#i would riot so badly if my child ever had any reason to say that about themselves

[isolophilian]

i think we need to understand the gravity of how quickly Percy blames himself and his disabilities for the way his world is. how he's been made to believe over years and years that he's weird, that there's something wrong with him. Percy saying he should've been paying attention. Percy saying there's something wrong with his brain. Percy calling himself broken.. he's just a kid man

#this is so unbelievably important #goes to show how the treatment of disabled kids can harm their self esteem so much #he's literally twelve?? #this kid has been told his entire life that there's something wrong with him #and he believes it #you can see how upset Sally is that he thinks that #like that's her little boy #i would riot so badly if my child ever had any reason to say that about themselves #also brunner calling him “special” earlier in the episode probably aggravated his reaction to getting the same statement from sally #god he's just a baby #he doesn't deserve this #this show is going to jumpstart such important conversations about a wide variety of things and I am so here for it #renew it already #percy jackson #sally jackson #walker scobell #virginia kull #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo tv spoilers #isoceratops

[gentrychild]

An anon who was rereading Anyone asked me what would have happened if Izuku didn't like eggs and how you tell a supervillain you don't like what he made and that you want something. I have bravely tried to answer said ask but Tumblr laughed at my pain, so here is it, on a new post.

------------------------

When confronted with the super villain Izuku had accidentally broken out of the most secured prison in the country, a man who had basically walked out of said prison as soon as he hadn’t been restrained anymore, Izuku did the only thing any rational person would do.

He ran like hell. No shoes, no plan, nothing except Full Cowl roaring in his veins and he fled.

At least, he tried to.

Strong tendrils stopped him dead, then hands picked him up by his shoulders and suddenly, his feet weren't touching the ground and he was forcibly brought to the kitchen table.

''No, no, no,'' All for One said with the tone one would employ with a disobedient pet or a very young child. ''Your breakfast is going to get cold and we have so much to talk about. Sit. Enjoy the eggs. If you don't like them, I can make something else.''

And he dropped him on his chair, before putting the plate in front of him. Then, he sat at the other end of the table, facing Izuku, his own plate in front of him and he started to eat. Slowly, his manners perfect, while Izuku was dying of sheer stress over there.

Then, he looked at Izuku. Then at Izuku's plate.

''You're not eating?''

Izuku looked at the man who had literally reduced people to paste last night and then at his plate of eggs and bacon, then back at the lunatic who was probably going to skin him alive soon enough. He needed to do something, to get the time to find a way out of this mess.

Now, any reasonable human being would have eaten a bit of eggs and bacon – well, eaten the bacon in Izuku’s case – but he had just woken up, was in a pre-caffeinated state and truly, Izuku had never claimed to have the slightest working relationship with sanity.

“I don’t like eggs,” he blurted out.

The supervillain, the very same man who had literally gone through a prison riot of fellow villains like he was running through wet paper, was startled so badly by those four words that he dropped his fork.

“What do you mean, you don’t like eggs???” he asked like this was a ludicrous notion, like everyone’s favorite breakfast should be eggs and bacon.

“Never liked them,” Izuku lied, by pure spirit of contradiction, far more developed than for most people, for it had been left with quite the amount of room after the disappearance of all his survival instinct.

And it was indeed a lie because, once upon a time, it had been his favorite comfort food, but when he had been a kid, during one of those weeks where his mom was gone and the neighbor supposed to watch over him was busy forgetting his existence, he had gorged himself on it at every meal until he had gotten so sick of it that he had been unable to eat them ever again.

All for One watched him with something that went beyond annoyance, it was the patented look of someone who knew one was messing with him and the words “You’re a goddamn liar” were probably fighting to be left out but he had no proof that Izuku was bullshitting him and if even if he somehow had a lie-detecting-quirk, Izuku would keep denying it because he probably wasn’t making it out alive anyway so why deprive himself of the chance of annoying his would-be-killer?

And actually, why wait?

“I prefer waffles,” Izuku informed him because, after all, All for One had offered him to make him something else.

All for One stared at him without saying anything, probably thinking about all the ways he could have killed Izuku back when they were in Tartarus. Meanwhile, Izuku gave the illusion to be staring back at him when he was actually thinking about the fact the window made a faster exit but All for One would have the time to catch him before he landed seven floors lower while the door offered him more options.

All for One eventually abandoned his plate and started to rummage through the cupboards, going straight to the place where Izuku and his mom usually put the baking ingredients. Either everyone organized their kitchen the same way, or All for One had broken in so many homes that he was just a pro at using any kitchen he found himself into.

“Do you have flour?” the lunatic called out. “I can’t find it.”

Izuku had already flowed out of his chair and was making his way to the door by walking backwards, trying to radiate nonchalance and not the need to RUN AWAY WITHOUT LOOKING BACK.

“Try the highest shelves,” Izuku helpfully suggested, his hand on the doorknob.

It was where his mom put the heaviest pots and pans they usually didn’t use, since everyone in this household needed to climb a chair to access it. With a little luck, they would all fall on All for One.

Izuku left the apartment, not even bothering to fully close the door behind him, and he ran. He was in his pajamas, had found his sneakers by the door and they were still in his hands as he booked it out of his neighborhood as fast as Full Cowl could carry him and he didn’t stop until his building wasn’t in sight anymore. Then, he stopped on a bench, the couple flirting on it deciding they could do that somewhere else when they saw him approaching, and he put his sneakers on, took a deep breath, and decided to run some more, still in the opposite direction of where Todoroki was living, and then, he would figure out a plan.

Unfortunately, liquid shadows chose this moment to appear right in front of him, revealing All for One, who was holding a bag from Waffle Palace in one of his hands.

“I didn’t find any flour or sugar so I just ordered in.”

Some people would have screamed or been startled but Izuku had already ripped the bench from the ground and thrown it at All for One. The villain batted it away with his empty hand but it didn’t matter because Izuku was already half way through the park, or at least until black tendrils grabbed him and yanked him back.

 “Your waffles are going to get cold,” All for One sternly informed him before grabbing him by the back of his shirt and he warped again, this time with Izuku under his arm.

#I hope you see this Anon #anyone fic #anyone au

[pluviophile-bookworm]

HSMTMTS 2x10: New and a bit alarming... ok, very alarming

I don't even know at this point if I'm more nervous or excited for this episode. I've done my waiting and, well, whatever lies ahead, good or bad, or a little bit of both, I just can't wait anymore, even though I haven't been so scared to press play since... well, since last week. Guess I should just go for it, then:

Ooh, shady Seb doing the recap! We love to see it. Like, seriously, I'm anxious about the Seblos fight, but shady Seb is kind of my new favourite Seb.

I just... Ashlyn's acting is top tier. Emotional connection to the material? Superb! Chemistry with her co-lead... well, he'd have to be co-leading for any chemistry to be possible. I love Ricky, and I feel for him with all he's been through, but he's just not lead material right now. And it shows. Especially next to Ashlyn, who is killing it!

Miss Jenn is on the verge of a bloody mental breakdown and I just... wish I could do something to make things better. She reminds me of my mum when a deadline approaches for her to submit an article, and I just feel for her right now. Gosh, I'm feeling for everybody today. My empathy seems to be at its peak and I might just burst from all these emotions this episode is making me feel even before the 5-minute mark.

Ok, but Miss Jenn being stressed means Carlos is stressed for two, which means... this is a really bad time for him and Seb to have personal problems. My heart just can't handle it.

Wow... I never thought I'd see the day! The two leads are actually talking to each other! This is a mid-July miracle!

Why does everyone keep pretending their HSM was good? It was a flaming hot mess! A child could see that.

Miss Jenn needs a lot of work on her 'gracious face'. I, like Carlos, have quite some notes. Only mine aren't exactly, how do you say... verbally formulated quite yet.

Did Carlos just refer to Miss Jenn as 'mother'? Because yes.

I've been in a couple of local theatre productions in my day, but none of them had actual physical sets — we relied on the audience's imagination quite a lot — so I wouldn't know what a good set is made of... but even I can tell that plywood and Elmer's glue = not good.

Kourtney is a multi-tasking icon and we love her. I feel like I don't say this enough, but she deserves all the love.

Ooh, shady Seb is... well, shady! 'Quit school and get a job at the pizza shop?' — I mean, you don't see Reddy or Kourtney (or Howie, for that matter) quitting school in order to work at the Slices! Those kids juggle it all and, as someone who's never had to balance school and a job all at once, they have my deepest admiration.

Still, I think they should have thought about 'inventing' something re: transformation earlier than this point. The personal drama has taken up too much of their time.

Why does everyone keep inviting people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, it's not like I've ever heard her complain, but the girl needs some rest! And her house is not a public space.

Oh, so they're making this into a contest? I mean, I have never been a fan of competition, but to each their own. And Redlyn are hosting! This is going to be so beautiful! (You know, unless the boys try to sleep — see my post from yesterday about Reddy's background noise machine)

'I'm not worried. But North High should be!' Ooh, I love this look on Ashlyn! See, there's a lead to take notes from! And Ricky should be the first to do so. Take notes about what a lead acts like, I mean.

Oooooh, Big Red claps back! We love to see it. Although, you know, it stems from the fact that he's nervous about coming up with a solution to the transformation problem. 'I get bossy around the power tools' — Yes, sweetie, and I love that look on you. Maybe you should be around power tools more often, if that helps.

Ughhh, look what the cat brought in! Lily (I wish I knew her last name so I could refer to her by it exclusively, but we'll have to make do). I hate that girl. She reminds me quite exactly of the girl who bullied me in seventh grade to the point where I wished I'd die before having to deal with her at school again. She and Lily both bring out my aggressive side, and I hate that about them.

Ricky — 'so good at being a leading man'? I don't know what Lily is playing at here, but Ricky has not shown himself to be a very good leading man this season. He has the potential to be, but he has not fulfilled it by this point. Sure, he supports his friends and they support him, but that's basic decency. Not yet good leadership. No hate on Ricky, just the truth.

'I vaguely remember him' — please tell me this is setup for Ricky leading Lily on and then slamming the door in her face with the truth. The way I see it, he's been given a chance here. A chance to be the supportive, protective best friend Big Red deserves. I just... have a lot of ideas about this and I don't want it to end badly instead.

'I'm just not well-liked here, and I don't know what to do' — well, of course you aren't well-liked, you little— (ok, ok, calm down, breathe, 10, 9, 8...) whatever. I mean, she hasn't even considered basic decency, as it seems. Must be a new concept to her.

'Don't start with me, Carlos!' Wow. As much as I hate it that my two faves' only interaction in so long is so hostile, I kind of like this side of Big Red. I wonder what other sides of himself he's been hiding.

Listen, I don't like Seb being patronised and babied, but... 'Chip, this is your mother speaking: go call your mother!' made me laugh so hard. They're leaning into the on-stage family dynamic and I live for it.

EJ's idea of using old skateboards for the spinning contraption is... a brilliant callback to the fact that Ricky and Big Red were first characterised as skateboarders... you know, before diving headfirst into the theatre thing. And it feels like it might actually work.

Miss Jenn's excitement at seeing Mr Mazzara ('Benjamin!!!') is perhaps only topped by the fact that he was halfway home, got a text from her and instantly went back to the school. I mean, these two have something that's really big.

Miss Jenn referring to the kids as 'my children', combined with Carlos calling her 'mother' earlier just warms my heart so much! Those guys really are family. I live for it.

Ok, but... as clear as it is that the Wildcats are very far behind NH in terms of budget, rehearsal time and who knows what else, I hate seeing Miss Jenn resigned to them losing. I want to see her have faith in them, talk about how they will win, and, in her own words, 'trust the process'. I mean, I guess it's good that, as a teacher, she wants to prepare her kids for a possible defeat (and I mean really possible if they don't step up their game immediately, especially some of them * cough* Ricky *cough *), but a team that goes out to the field expecting to lose has a very minimal chance of winning.

Despite everything I've been saying again and again about Nini lately, the fact that she just delivered a very different 'No, Seb' has just redeemed her. See, this one wasn't dismissive or patronising — this was like, 'no, Seb, don't put yourself down' and I love that spin on the catchphrase I'd grown to hate. See, many things can be redeemed. And some simply cannot. * cough* Devil's spawn Lily *cough *. Also, Seb being self-conscious about the fact that Carlos 'doesn't have many options' at East Hight is the perfect setup for In a Heartbeat — meaning they will either have a chance to talk about their issue, or they have a telepathic connection, in which case, what kind of soulmate stuff is that?

'You're my sister; he's my cousin' — yeah, Ash, putting it like that makes it sound a lot weirder than it should, but I do get what you're trying to say. This is not a drill! Ashlyn is a Portwell shipper (heck, maybe even the captain of that ship) — but I feel like we already knew that.

'Why'd I never hear about this?' — and there it goes. Within the same scene, Nini was redeemed and then made aggravating again. What does she care if Gina thought Ricky sent her chocolates? He didn't. Because he and Gina can't be anything but very good friends. And I feel like good friends is what Gina needs. Maybe that's why I wanted EJ to be that for her initially (or it was because I'm aroace and don't tend to notice romantic attraction between fictional characters — or real people for that matter — unless it's explicitly stated to be there). But I've been on board of the majestic S.S. Portwell for a few weeks now and it's finally about to set sail.

Yeah, Nini, get a root beer, calm the heck down and get over it!

'Your other clockwise!' — Why does this even need to be said? How many 'clockwise's are there? I absolutely understand why Big Red gets the way he gets around power tools. I'd be on edge too, if the people I was trying to work with didn't know what way clockwise is. Still, I feel like by the time I'm 30, nobody younger than me would have a reason to know what way clockwise is, and I don't know if I feel bad or neutral about it.

Oh, so there's no telepathy involved in Seblos' problem resolution — it's been Redlyn's good communication all along. I might have known.

Ooh, Portwell is being discussed on both sides! PORTWELL NATION HOW WE FEELING

Nini? Why is everything about Nini? There's no way everything is about Nini. In all seriousness, though, EJ's worries about letting the next girl go seem valid in regards to Gina, given that she explicitly stated (though not within earshot of EJ or anyone who could have tipped him off) that she needs someone who will show up and stay. But they'll figure it out. They'll find a way. I know it. They will, or I will riot, and I know I won't be alone in that.

Ooh, Howie is giving Kourtney the original blueprints! Looks like Reddy isn't the only one who has a spy on the inside.

Ahhh, Ricky! Not 'Let You Go' again. I haven't cried to it in three days and I was not ready to break that streak. But... wait, this is where Carlos approaches Ricky to ask him for help with writing a song for Seb, isn't it? I am definitely ready for this.

Oh, is it... is it Ricky who suggests Carlos write a song for Seb? Now that is what a good leading man looks like.

'I'm adjusting to being called bro' — me too, Carlito, me too. But... this scene must have been so emotional for Josh, given that he hadn't come out yet. I remember him crying during The Climb and... all I'm saying is I want Ricky to come out at some point, too.

Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh... they were just talking about love languages and that's when Carlos shows up? Cinematic. Wait, there's Portwell too? This is what dreams are made of.

My oh my oh my! Risotto! For real this time. I might have just teared up. (Full disclosure: I did.) I've only had Portwell for about three weeks, but if anything happens to them, I will... you know how the meme goes. [side note: Wait, when I said 'for real this time', I was not expecting EJ would say it, much less word for word. Am I... writing this show now? It's usually my dad who predicts people's lines in TV shows]

'Not that I know of'... excuse me while I hyperventilate! These two are literal soulmates. They might share a brain, too, for all that I know. Portwell nation you ok guys?

I love that Ricky helped Carlos out with this song and is supporting him through it, but... I just might have preferred for him not to be there. I kind of need Seblos to have this moment to themselves. But, you know, with the way they feel about each other it might as well be like they're alone in the universe, let alone the room.

Ok, but Frankie's voice... brings out feelings in me that I didn't know I was capable of. Make of that what you will. Also, I'm not sobbing my eyes out, you are.

Ahhh Reddy my sunshine my sweet boy I love you but why did you have to cut Seblos' moment short? They were going to kiss, I know it. Oh well, they probably will, later on. Off-screen probably, but who cares? Not everything is for us to see. At least Carlos and Ricky had a moment there... Carlos calling Ricky 'bro' made me more emotional than I expected. It's like Miss Jenn says in s1: 'They're best bros, and that's a sacred thing... for reasons I will never understand'.

Ricky's acting sounds like a cat about to spit up a hairball, and it's so funny... in a scene that is supposed to be arguably the most dramatic of the entire play, that is not a good thing.

Oh my, oh my... you did not! You did not just end the episode with Ricky taking a fall from who knows how high. I was not ready. This episode was entirely too much for me. I will need 10 to 15 business days to recover from this, and we all know there aren't that many. But in the meantime you'll find me obsessively listening to In a Heartbeat for hours on end. Seriously, this episode is too much.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #ricky bowen #nini salazar-roberts #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew-smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara #jnk #seblos #portwell #redlyn #jenzara

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part IX

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 2,883

Note: Sorry for the delay :(

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8

“I’m glad nothing serious happened to you or your friend.” Tyrion poured himself some wine and you accepted to drink with him.

“Me too.”

“I know you are a hero but I sense something else here... why you keep taking those risks for her?” He curiously asked.

“She has no one...” That was true, still, you were trying to keep your feelings buried.

“You love her.” You hid your blush behind the silver cup. He chuckled. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. She seems to be a good Lady. With all that your brother has done to her having you is a blessing.”

“You... you’re okay with it?” Loving her in secret was one thing but saying it out loud to someone was a different one.

“Of course! I could never judge you. You don’t dictate your heart, you have all my support, Y/N.” He warmly smiled, you bent down to hug him. This is one of the many reasons you love your uncle so much.

“Thank you, uncle.”

“Now I fully understand why you did that yesterday. Does she know?” He walked to the balcony gesturing you to follow him.

“No. And maybe it’s all in my head.” You brushed it off. “She sees me as her very good chum who saves her from my horrendous family.”

“Or perhaps she’s just afraid to admit it. After all, you are the princess. It’s not that easy. You’ll figure it out.” He tapped your shoulder. Could Sansa really feel the same? Nothing’s impossible, you just have to give it time and be patient. But with the way she looks at you... how you find comfort in her embraces... how she gently touches your hand...

You made your way to the Stark girl’s room to check on her just to find the door wide open and a scared Sansa with the bed stained of blood, her nightgown had red stains too.

The Hound was there, you scowled. You knew he was going to tell Cersei, and that was the last thing the redhead wanted. Shae arrived shortly.

“Good morning.” You said.

“Princess.” Sandor and Shae greeted. Your gaze landed on Sansa, the tears were threatening to come out. She didn’t say anything.

“I will inform the Queen.” He stated and left. Sansa threw herself into your arms. You could feel her tensing and quivering.

“Hey hey, it’s gonna be fine. He’s not gonna touch you.” You promise her, you would do anything to keep him away from her, even if that meant being punished.

“You should take a bath before you meet her grace.” The young handmaid said.

“I’m going to wait outside until you are finished, then I’ll escort you to my mother’s chambers. Don’t worry, my lady. I got you.” You assured. Her features relaxed and you gave her a small nod.

You tried to come with excuses for your mother to not force her to carry Joffrey’s babies immediately but nothing with a valid point seemed to be compelling enough.

After she was done you headed to her big room. “How is your wound?” You added to soothe the hike.

“Better. You are a very good healer.” She shyly answered.

“One of my many gifts.” You winked to ease her nerves. The Queen Regent was already expecting her, yet she was not very surprised when you showed up behind Sansa, you let her entered first.

“My love, what are you doing here?” Cersei asked you, raising her eyebrow.

“I... thought I’d give Lady Sansa some advice, I flowered almost two years ago. I know it is grubby at first.”

“It certainly is. But her mother prepared her, didn’t she?”

“She told me. I thought... it would be different.” Sansa confessed.

“In what way?” You both took a seat.

“I thought it would be less... less messy.”

“Wait until you birth a child. You’re a woman now, do you know what that means?”

“I’m fit to bear children for the King.” Yes, your heart was breaking again.

“Is there any rush?” You intervened and Cersei faked a sympathetic smile.

“The sooner the better.” She made a flick for you to keep your mouth shut. Your jaw tensed. “A prospect that once delighted you. The greatest honor for a queen. Joffrey has always been difficult. Even his birth, I labored one day and a half to bring him into this world. You cannon imagine the pain. I screamed so loud I was sure Robert would hear me in the Kingswood.”

“His grace was not with you?”

“Robert was hunting. Whenever my time was near, he would flee to the trees with his huntsmen and his hounds. The only time he was with me was when Y/N was born. I’ll always remember how she wrapped her little hand around his finger, she smiled at him and that was the only time in my life I saw a tear fell from his cheek. It was too emotional.”

You missed him so badly, the stories he used to tell you about Westeros, the adventures he had when he was a young Lord, the thrill in his eyes when he saw you swing the sword for the first time, he taught you all about archery, about bravery. When you were feeling low because of Joffrey and your mother he would carry you in his arms and then ride far from the city in your horses. You missed those days cause in the dark moments he was your hero.

“You never told me that before.”

“You were your father’s favorite.” Then she referred to Sansa. “Joffrey will show you no such devotion. You may never love the King but you will love his children.” She told her calmly.

“I love his grace with all my heart.” Sansa lied in her usual innocent voice.

“That’s very touching to hear. Permit me to share some womanly wisdom with you on this special day. The more people you love, the weaker you are. You’ll do things for them that you know you shouldn’t do. You’ll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children. On that front, a mother has no choice.” Was it so hard for Cersei to love you as much as she loved your siblings? To support you and be there for you?

“But shouldn’t I love Joffrey, your grace?”

“You can try, little dove. My sweet daughter here, she will be marrying some Lord very soon. I think it’s time for you to start your own family.” The blonde abruptly added. Sansa felt her stomach twist itself into an uncomfortable knot.

“That means I will have to leave you, mother.” You complained. Cersei doesn’t want to end up alone, Jaime is a prisoner, you don’t know if you’re going to see him again. But she doesn’t want you to abandon her, deep down does she care? A question you often ask yourself.

“You grew too fast. You are my oldest daughter, any man who has your heart will be very lucky. Many of them are interested in you.” Your eyes were set only on Sansa Stark, even if you couldn’t be together.

“But I’m not interested in them.” You pointed out. Was she trying to send you away just because you were willing to keep protecting Sansa at all costs, or did she really wanted to get rid of you?

You and the northerner walked out. You let go of those thoughts. Focusing on her again you broke the silence. “There’ll be a battle soon. My uncle’s army will arrive anytime. Joffrey is going to be busy. I’m always here for you, Sansa.” You reassured once more, for her to know she’s not alone.

“I feel trapped. But when you’re around... you make everything better.” Hearing that made you feel a wave of joy. She blushed and gods, your face was the color of her hair too.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” You said smiling sincerely at her. She smiled back at you.

The following days passed so very fast, now you were helping uncle Tyrion do some researching on books to find information to use for the incoming battle. The King himself apparently is occupied torturing people and animals to care for his Kingdoms. Bronn was there too, your uncle thought he’d come with some ideas for the defense of the city.

You were distracted, to say the least, your mind wandering in the redhead beauty, in how she seemed to be troubled almost all the time.

“Dear niece, I need your cleverness.” You came out of your trance.

“We are very lucky to have you as Hand of the King, uncle, otherwise we’d be doomed. And I mean it, no sarcasm. I want to join you in the field.” Tyrion wasn’t expecting to hear that statement. You knew you could be effective.

“What? Absolutely not. The last time in the riot the gods were good and you were unharmed. This is way different. I know you are brave, just like Robert was, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Let alone the fact your mother won’t allow it.”

“I can take care of myself. Joffrey won’t last a moment there. Maybe I can coax him to fight along his men.”

“I wish you could. He won’t listen.”

“I’ll do it anyway.”

“So stubborn. My brain might explode before I find something helpful. ‘A History of the Great Sieges of Westeros.’ By Archmaester Shevelathin. Shevelatesh.”

“Ch’Vyalythan.” You corrected him.

“Are you sure?” You shrugged.

“My Princess. Lord Hand. Commander. I must compliment you on the Gold Cloak’s performance last few weeks. Did you know there has been a marked drop in thievery?” Lord Varys said entering the room.

“How did you accomplish this?”

“Me and the lads rounded up all the known thieves.” Bronn nonchalant replied.

“For questioning?”

“No. It’s just the unknown thieves we need to worry about now.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Have you ever been on a city under siege? Maybe this part is not in your books. See, it’s not the fighting that kills most people. It’s the starving. Food’s worth more than gold. The thieves love a siege. Soon as the gates are sealed they steal all of it. By the time it’s all over, they’re the richest men in town.”

“Yes, I believe extreme measures are warranted. Ah ‘The Great Sieges of Westeros.’ Thrilling subject, shame archmaester Ch’Vyalthan wasn’t a better writer.” Varys referred to the big book on the table.

“Uncle Stannis knows King’s Landing, he knows where we are the strongest and where we are the weakest. We need to be cautious. Take him down before he arrives at the gates.” Now you were focusing, strategy was essential.

“That’s it! The Mud Gate. A good ram will batter it down in minutes, and it’s only fifty yards from the water. That’s where he’ll land.” Tyrion affirmed certainly.

“If he does attack at the Mud Gate, what is our plan?” Varys curiously inquired. Tyrion looked at you, and then back at him.

“Wildfire.” He said.

After discussing the tactics you went to share some time with Sansa, she is one of the few people who gives you peace. Little Tommen was on his reading lessons. She was embroidering a red scarf with two lions on the top. Your heart warmed at the sight of it.

“Shae is not here?”

“I dismissed her an hour ago.” Then she stood up. “A present for you.”

“Why do I owe the pleasure?” You admired her flawless needlework.

“Because you always save me. You are always there for me. I don’t know how can I ever repay you.”

“You don’t have to, you know I do it cause I love you I’m your friend. But I appreciate the gift though. It is a very fine design.” She flushed, seeing her like this is very cute.

“You think... your brother is going to defeat Lord Stannis?”

“Brave men will fight. I have faith in them and in my uncle’s plan. I-I might... get involved.”

“Is this a bad joke?” She looked at you perplexed.

“I’m afraid is not.”

“Y/N, you could die! You are strong but still too young to go to war. And you are a princess.” Sansa winced. You squeezed gently her arm.

“I won’t die. I heard uncle Renly had in his Kingsguard a female warrior. And what about Visenya Targaryen? She was a fantastic skilled warrior as well. She fought alongside Aegon in his conquest, and in the First Dornish War. Also, she was a dragon rider, she bonded with the one called Vhagar. And had a Valyrian steel longsword named Dark Sister. I wish I had one.” You commented, utterly excited. Sansa didn’t really like the topic but her eyes lighted up every time you talked about something you were passionate about.

“You never cease to amaze me, you know so much about these things. I understand now why Arya and you got along so well.” And it’s true, you wished she was here, you missed the youngest Stark girl running around the castle. “But still, I don’t like the idea of you being out there. It’s too dangerous. You said you weren’t going anywhere.” She mumbled the last sentence.

“Trust me.” You held her hands on your own.

“Just be careful, please. Don’t leave me alone.”

“I will be. And I’ll never leave you.”

You were walking side by side with the King, Varys, and Tyrion on the eastern walls.

“If my uncle Stannis lands on the shores of King’s Landing, I’ll ride out to greet him.” Joffrey smugly spoke.

“A brave choice, your grace. I’m sure your men will line up behind you.” Tyrion subtly jeered.

“They say he never smiles. I’ll give him a red smile from ear to ear.” You rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t stand a chance against him on his own. Lord Varys and your uncle began to converse with each other.

“Hey, Y/N. I heard you want to join us in the fight.” He said in a mocking way.

“You think I’m not capable?”

“Exactly. You are a woman. Not that I really care about what happens to you. You’ll die out there.”

“You have little faith in me, big brother. But still, I’m way better than you in almost everything.” You squinted your lips. “No! In absolutely everything. Don’t worry, I’ll pray for our victory.”

“I already know your whore friend has flowered. I’ll come to visit her right after I kill our uncle.” He hissed and you didn’t punch him right away right there cause you held back your fury. He was provoking you, you would get your knuckles bloody for Sansa if he goes too far.

“...They say he burns his enemies alive to honor the Lord of Light.” You joined the conversation between the two men.

“The Lord of Light wants his enemies burnt. The Drowned God wants them drowned. Why are all the gods such vicious cunts? Where is the god of tits and wine?” Tyrion wittily questioned.

“In the Summer Isles, they worship a fertility goddess with sixteen teats.” Varys responded.

“We should sail there immediately.” You smirked.

“Lord Varys, do you know anything new about the Targaryen girl?" Some nights you wonder, if your father hadn't won the Rebellion she would be here, this would be her home, she was exiled so she could survive, she was forced to marry a savage, her family is dead, the world is such a cruel place... and when you are a helpless girl it gets worse, what if things had turned out differently? And you were the one on the other side of the world, maybe that's one of the main reasons why you sympathized with her.

“This morning, I heard a song all the way from Qarth beyond the Red Waste. Daenerys Targaryen lives.”

“That’s a relief.” You said.

“A relief? She has three dragons. But even if what they say is true, it’ll be years before they are fully grown. And then there will be nowhere to hide.” Varys argued.

“She’s on the edge of the world, the least of our problems.” Uncle Tyrion tried to sound unconcerned.

“Three baby dragons? How is that possible?” They were extinct for almost three hundred years. How she managed to bring them back?

“Princess, do you consider it was wise to let her live? If you knew then what you do now... would you persuade his grace to give the order? She might be a threat soon enough, she will claim the throne-“

“Maybe she’s not interested in it. Not everyone is. Especially the rightful heirs. She did nothing wrong.”

“Yet.”

“I don’t regret my choice. I wouldn’t change it if I could.” You were confident, she’s innocent, one game at the time, you thought. Just because her ancestors were evil doesn’t mean she is evil too.

“You are so selfless, and good. Westeros might need a Queen like you.” Varys remarked.

“I’m no Queen, my Lord.” The throne belongs to you more than to Joffrey that was for sure, but how can you overthrow snakes that know your weaknesses and can use them to sting and hurt you the most?

#game of thrones fic #got #game of thrones imagine #sansa stark x reader #sansa x fem baratheon reader #baratheon reader #house baratheon

[portugalisinsa]

In my desperate attempt to sleep I ended up thinking about copaganda and how the term as been abused and misused, so let me rant about it for a little bit

So “copaganda” means a specific thing, namely, a piece of media that pushes propaganda for the police, implying that the police is Great, Actually, and Don’t Worry Your Pretty Little Head About It. Cops is an example of that. Blue Bloods is the poster child.

However, as it always happens, a specific term that is actually Important enters the mainstream and loses its meaning because of people, and now it’s being used by many as “movie and/or show that’s about the police and/or has a police character that isn’t a total dick, which obviously means that the movie and/or show is bad”.

That’s obviously bullshit, and I will show that with Edgar Wright’s great masterpiece Hot Fuzz.

On the surface, a complete dumbass would say that Hot Fuzz is copaganda. Nicholas Angel is shown as good! The final act is a big shooting! Of course it is, right?!

Wrong.

Alright, so, Hot Fuzz begins by showing us Nicholas Angel and how fucking awesome he is. There��s what you would expect (urban pacification, riot control, resolution of “Operation Crackdown”, highest arrest) but, most notably, there’s a degree in Politics and Sociology, and they specifically mention popularity within the community. In fact, in the rest of the movie, that is what he mostly does- community work. He checks the traffic, patrols, gets minors out of a pub, and tries to find a duck for a member of the public.

So Nicholas Angel is awesome, and he’s the best cop. it would naturally follow that the rest of the police would love him. That’s what we want- if you’re good, you meet your objectives, and do your best, you will fit in the police and make the world a better place!

But no, the others fucking hate him. His superiors are shipping him off because he’s too good. He’s making the others look bad, and the idea of, you know, holding everybody at a higher standard doesn’t touch them. No, Nicholas Angel makes them look bad, and looking good matters more than all the results he gets.

Now, it would be easy to make it look like it’s just a higher up problem. The higher up are lazy and image obsessed, but the common officers, the ones we all meet, they’re good and appreciate him. “Don’t worry, public, we’ll protect you even though our superiors are dicks.“

Nope, they fucking hate him too.

So already, not a glowing endorsement of the police. But hey! It could still be copaganda! Maybe, I don’t know, it’s just those city cops, and the country cops are actually the good guys!

Ahah lol, actually? The country cops fucking hate Angel too. Angel is a “city cop” who thinks too highly of himself and is there to show them how it’s done.

If you’re reading this, you may remember that Angel kinda never did anything other than, you know, be a by-the-book officer. The country cops don’t like him for completely bullshit reasons that can be summarized as “you’re new and also you’re trying to make us feel bad for not being as awesome as you by being that awesome and we don’t trust you go away”. Danny likes him, admittedly mostly because he’s a sweetie pie, but partly for the bad reasons- he wants soldier cop.

All of this is, needless to say, not a glowing endorsement of the police.

Eventually, we find out what made Angel want to become a police officer; his uncle was one. He admired him, and wanted to be like him. Now, Edgar Wright could have left it at that, and we would have had a nice, traditional “amazing cop comes from long, noble line of cops” story, but instead, we instantly find out that, actually, his uncle was corrupt, and that’s bad, and Angel is disappointed in him.

So, to recap- we’re basically halfway through the movie, and the only good cop is Angel. (Danny isn’t bad, but like... he’s not exactly good either, at least as a police officer)

The movie continues, and murders start to happen. Angel is literally the only one who thinks anything is wrong. A long, long string of “accidents” is happening, and none of the cops has even the slightest inkling that something is wrong. They’re just like “Angel, you nipped scarf, you’re a paranoid dum-dum“, and what little they do, they do after a lot of arm-twisting and with extreme disgruntlement.

Once again, not a glowing endorsement.

On and on we go, two thirds into the movie, with only Danny liking Angel and showing any kind of improvement as an officer, until we finally get to the revelation that the council is killing people for the greater good (the greater good)... Oh, and btw, who is also part of the council?

The Frank Butterman, AKA The Police Inspector, AKA THE FUCKING LEADER OF THE POLICE IN THIS TOWN.

So, to recap, by the final act of the movie, we find out that the higher ups are corrupt and the main body of the police are ineffectual.

Okay. Cool.

Nicholas Angel then proceeds to pack up for the final showdown. I see lots of people making the argument that this is an example of soldier cop, fixing everything with violence. Me, I think that’s bullshit. In real life, the problem isn’t that cops have riot gear, the problem is that they use it for everything. Riot gear is something you use only when strictly necessary, and I would argue that “murderous council that’s packing” is one of those times when it is.

So the riot gear and packing up is fine. But what about the violence, I hear you cry?

Well, here’s the thing- the man is responding with the appropriate amount of force. Everybody is trying to actually murder him, and he never, ever shoot to kill. He shoots to incapacitate.

Look at the final body count, people. You think Bad Boys would have ended such a show up with none dead, lots low-to-medium injured apart from one guy who was badly injured but did it himself by tripping on a pointy thing? Fuck, even outside of copaganda, what was the last action movie that had such a body count?

Also, the rest of the country police come around, after initially responding AGAINST Angel, and only thanks to Danny mediation. Which... I mean, good, it’s good, I’m very proud of them, but like, once again, this isn’t exactly glowing endorsement. This doesn’t scream “see, audience?!?! Cops may look ineffectual, but when push comes to shove, they’ll save you!” to me, this screams “yo, they’re finally doing the bare minimum”.

Anyway, the end comes. The London police wants Nicholas Angel to come back because now they look bad, but Angel wants to actually rebuild and direct the police here in the town. They all do paperwork, because that’s what the rules say and rules are important and cops should follow the rules, and more stuff happens but it’s not important for the purpose of this so, here, the end.

At the end, we get the song. The choice of music is important for a movie, it means stuff. Even a mediocre director knows that, and Edgar Wright is a goddamn master of the craft. Have  you seen The World’s End? Check that soundtrack. It’s perfect. Hell, the man directed Baby Driver, which, you know, was half soundtrack. Edgar Wright cares about music in his movies and he chooses it carefully, is the point, okay?

So, keeping in mind that, what do we end Hot Fuzz with? Some bombastic “bad boys bad boys, whatchu gonna do, whatchu gonna do when they come for you”? Something that pumps you up, that makes you go “FUCK YEAH”?

We end it with “Caught by the Fuzz”, by Supergrass. Which, yes, slaps, it slaps my whole bod, and yes, it does pump you up, but, once again, is not a glowing endorsement of the police. It’s a song from the point of view of a scared teen having been arrested by the police who is thinking “fuck I should have stayed at home fuck”.

So what am I trying to say with this? Well, let’s start with what I’m not trying to say; I don’t think Hot Fuzz is an indictment of the police. Please don’t take all of this as me saying that Edgar Wright intended Hot Fuzz as a giant ACAB. That is what in the field we call a reach. Hot Fuzz isn’t an indictment of the police, and that’s fine, because it’s not trying to be. It’s showing the police as a highly flawed institution, and sure, it’s not showing it as flawed as it actually is, but that’s fine, because it’s not trying to be The Wire. What it is trying to be is a fun action movie, which it is, and it is so amazingly.

What I am trying to show is that it’s not copaganda. It’s a movie with a police officer as a main character, a main character who is awesome, but it isn’t copaganda. It’s not endorsing the police. It’s not whitewashing it. It isn’t saying “look at the police, aren’t they great? Aren’t we glad the police are around? Aren’t we better because of the police? Don’t you want to become a police officer? Don’t you think that what they do is excusable, at the end of the day, since they deal with so much?”

But what does this have to do with copaganda? So, look. I get that it’s very nice to tell other people that their favourite shows and/or movie is bad AND wrong, and to feel like you have the moral high ground while doing so. I also get that words change and at the end of the day who gives a shit about it. I really do get that- I will never, ever give a shit about ‘literally’ being used as an intensive and not just to mean ‘literally’, for example.

BUT, some words are actually important, because they do mean a very, very specific thing they are best at describing. And “copaganda” is important, because you read it, you hear it, and you instantly know what it means; it’s something that’s also cop propaganda. Got it.

Which means it’s a word that is important to try and keep for as long as possible, because, you know... the cops aren’t always great. And it’d be best if we weren’t constantly told they are.

I understand that it feels bad to have so many bad things happening around us, and so little power to stop it. But you do have a little bit of power. You have the power to call a spade a spade, and to say ‘that isn’t cool’.

Calling a spade a spade, however, means that you don’t go around calling everything a spade. If you call everything a spade, it creates confusion, and dilutes a message.

So please. Please.

Instead of just pointing at something that has a cop in it and say “copaganda!”, use your critical skills and, like I just did with Hot Fuzz, try to find out if it actually is copaganda before saying it is so.

#hot fuzz #copaganda #long post #now please let me sleep #i'm so tired all the time #man this movie is great #my favourite one is the world's end tho #i'm absolutely not sorry it gave me everything #it made me sad it made me laugh it made me happy it made me cheer #p.s. this is all to say that I'm also not exactly sure Brooklyn 99 is copaganda #but i honestly haven't watched it in years so i have no interest in defending it tbqh #not that i've ever seen anyone saying that hot fuzz is copaganda #i'm sure someone has if only because there's always that one person willfully misinterpreting things #usually the same person going 'uhm maybe if people don't have critical skills #it's because of english teachers not doing their job' #sure it's your english teacher's problem #not you ignoring what they're saying because 'the curtains are just blue' and then covering your ears

[lukneetoonz]

Little Goddess Part II

——————————————————————-

Summary: As a newer goddess you think back on how you got to where you are; in the throne room sitting next to your husband, the god of the dead.

Pairing: Hades!Aizawa x fem!reader, DadNyx!Izuku x fem!reader platonic, MomSelene!Uraraka x reader platonic.

Warnings: Shameless flirting, cussing, bakubae threatening people like usual, aizawa being hot, both aizawa and reader talking down on themselves kinda, mean ex.

Word Count: 2,545

A/N: 2nd chapter!! Hope you guys like it! If you didn’t catch on, y/n gifted aizawa the cat version of Cerberus! He didn’t have a guard before and now he does! Also I really hope the tags work this time round!

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

——————————————————————

You never thought a place so hated and talked down on could be so- beautiful…. The skyscrapers all painted with glass walls it seemed. Even if it was in constant darkness, the moon- your mother’s moon glittered across the river Styx and reflected off windows. Turning to look at your father you smiled in disbelief, how could some place that was described as eternal damnation, be so- sleek? So aesthetically pleasing to one's eyes? “Are We at the checkpoint, or-” Your father laughed at your obvious amazement

“You hurt me, did you really think that the place me and your mother work constantly at could be horrible?” Izuku chuckled at your pouty face “Well I’m sorry that Everyone always makes a big deal about how scary it is here!” You would cross your arms but you still held the cat in your arms. You both arrived in front of the tallest building and you gulped as you stood in front of it “What if the king hates me?” You hear a small chuckle beside you only to be met with golden eyes

“Lemme guess, you’re a new egg?” Nodding your head, you stared at the winged man in front of you but your father was quick to jump in front of you “Keigo! I see you’re working today… this is my daughter, Y/N.” Your father had a nice smile on his face but his eyes were staring keigo down who had a lazy smirk on his face, golden eyes trained on you “Well, aren’t you a gorgeous little thing” The gods words made your father scowl and you blush

“Keigo, she’s young.” The winged god merely snickered “Relax Izuku! I just like to ruffle your feathers sometimes!” He laughed, a smile on his face as you looked at them curiously “You must be who the mortals call Hermes?” You spoke out, the attention on you now and Keigo nodded “That’s correct chickadee, but you can call me Keigo, or Kei for short” He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, winking at you with a small smile as you blushed and nodded, your father staring in disapproval.

“As much as I’d like to catch up keigo, We have a meeting with Aizawa. Y/N is going to be doing some work for him, today is her first meeting with him.” This peaked the blonde's interest as he raised his eyebrow “Ah, well good luck chickadee. Don’t be a stranger.” He smiled with a nod before flying off, your eyes following his movements “Are all gods that nice?” Your question made your father sigh “Be careful around the men… sometimes they get- power blind.”

His tone made you confused, but it made you remember stories of Zeus, or Enji, many affairs with mortals and nymphs, Queen Rei never once able to do anything about it. Nodding, you just walked in and followed your father, taking in the smoothly functioning atmosphere.

*•*

“Why can’t you just do your job quietly and not bother me katsuki?” Aizawa leaned back in his chair from behind his desk and sighed “You’re the God of Death. Your job is to bring the souls here, so what’s the problem?” The monotone voice spoke almost annoyed as red eyes glared, the younger God moving as his grey feathers ruffled in anger. “Because that shitty mail man thinks he’s better than me since you hired him!” Katsuki’s voice strained in anger as he clenched his jaw.

A cigar appeared in the King's hand and he took a couple puffs, before his dark eyes bore into the red ones. Calm anger stirring in them that made the younger God gulp but he still didn’t stand down. “Sit down Katsuki. Since you demand that your complaints are so worth my time, let’s go through this, shall we?” Aizawa’s voice was dripping with cold emotion and Katsuki tensed before sitting down, regretting his decision of coming in

“I hired that, what did you call him? ‘Mailman’, because I saw the population go up in the mortal world. When the population goes up, that means there will be more deaths, correct?” Katsuki moved to speak but Aizawa shook his head, his eyes glowing red in a threat. “I didn’t say you could talk- to be honest, your voice annoys me. So just nod or shake your head.” Huffing, Katsuki nodded as he looked away with a frustrated blush, trying to keep the cough down from the smoke that now filled the room.

“So I do something, nice, and you barge into my office, on MY company time, YELLING at me? I think I’m a pretty reasonable man, there’s never been riots here. No complaints, it runs smoothly, I think that I’ve proven myself to be reliable. Wouldn’t you agree?” The angry king seethed with smoke blowing through his nose, Katsuki only nodded slightly but Aizawa noticed. He always noticed everything. “So if you agree, why come and waste my time when you could've even scheduled a meeting?”

The red eyed man was stuttering, only to be interrupted by some laughing from beyond the office door and in came Hitsoshi, also known as Hecate, followed by Izuku and Y/N. You (e/c) eyes met dark ones that look in desperate need of sleep and a hug, taking a deep breathe you blinked away and tried to hide the blush on your face as you ignored the butterflies in your stomach

“Shouta- I didn’t realize Baku-please just fucking go already, was here” Shinso smirked, earning a glare from Bakugou as he clenched his fist. “You asshole, the next soul I bring will be yours I swear to god-” Before anything could happen, the cat in your arms jumped down and formed into a giant version of itself and hissed at both of them, keeping them apart. Everyone’s attention now on you as you smiled sheepishly.

“Ahem… hi, I’m Y/N, and I’m the Goddess of Monster, and I came to work here with my parents!” Aizawa felt his mouth go dry as he looked at you, eyes quickly skimming your figure and he flinched when he heard a glass picture frame crack on his desk… fucking power losing control. Izuku was by your side and smiling, but also making sure Katsuki and Shinso kept their distance.

“Oh c'mon Izuku, she’s not a child! Look at her-” Shinso smirked lazily as your face grew even redder as you whispered a small thank you. Katsuki tsked and rolled his eyes at you, looking at Izuku with a scowl. “Just because you think you’re some big, don’t expect people to treat her any differently. She’s just some newbie.” Katsuki was grumbling and Izuku huffed at his attitude, but it just made the cat hiss more at Katsuki and nudge Y/N in a comforting way and you finally found your will to speak

“Oh! Y-yes thank you cutie!” You quickly whispered to the cat, before making your way to the king himself and holding out your hand with a smile, “I wanted to thank you for giving me a job, and I heard from my father that you have to stay up guarding the gates to this place yourself, so I made you a little guardian…” Aizawa was stunned and he smiled softly, making every man in the room freeze in their spot as he took your hand gently and shook it. “Thank you… He looks like a Cerberus, doesn’t he?”

You laughed at the name, and oh god your laugh made his heart flutter in a way it hasn’t- well ever before. Looking at you even his eyes smiled slightly before he noticed you two were not alone and he coughed, fixing himself, putting the emotional guard back up and on duty. “But, you really shouldn’t have Y/N…. I hired you because of your abilities and plus every god and goddess that knew you spoke highly of you, so it was a good decision on my part.”

Eyes meeting the ground, you had to bite back the smile on your face as you took in deep breathes, “Well then take Cerberus as my act as your employee. No take backs, plus he really is a sweetheart and he deserves a good owner!” How could Aizawa argue with that? Simply he nodded before looking at the other men and raised his eyebrows, “Well? Don’t you all have jobs? I don’t bite. I just plan on taking her on a door, an orientation if you will.” Nodding, the men left but you father snuck a quick hug before he went. Feeling eyes on you, you looked up and smiled, “I can’t wait to see your kingdom, aizawa…”

*•*

You walked side by side with the king himself, a crown on his head as everyone he passed seemed to hold their breath and straighten up just a little bit more. The sight alone made you giggle, because all these people looked so afraid of a man who smiled so kindly at you, it confused you. “What has you giggling little goddess?” Aizawa’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked at him and smiled, looking at his raised eyebrows.

“Well… I just- you have the kindest smile I’ve ever seen yet everyone we’ve passed has held their breath and paled like you’re horribly mean. I don’t mean that as offense, I just find that your eyes are too kind to hold any type of evil.” A blush was prominent on your (S/C) cheeks as you finished talking, Aizawa himself seemed to be in a daze. “I’m sorry- that was weird! I didn’t mean to get too personal or weird!” The floor was now deemed more interesting as you started rambling, only stopping when a large hand was placed on your shoulder.

“Thank you… no one has ever said that about me or to me, for that matter, before. It means a great deal…” How he was even forming proper words was beyond him right now because even walking next to you in silence was hard since the smell of your perfume was overwhelming and making his senses go into overdrive, not to mention he can feel your body heat and he so badly wanted to maybe, just maybe, hold your hand. What was he thinking?! He just met you! Fuck fuck fuck- Izuku would kill him- hell he would kill himself for falling for such a young...beautiful… nice… goddess.

“Aizawa-” A hand- no YOUR hand waving in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts and he shook his head cursing under his breath “ ‘m sorry, just got lost in thought…” The soft smile on your face brought his nerves peace. “It’s okay.. we all have those moments! Anyway, you mentioned Tartarus before? Is that one of the places I have to work?” As soon as you mentioned that place, Aizawa’s face grew hard and his eyes were darker with an emotion you couldn’t place. “Promise me you’ll never go near that place little goddess. It’s a horrible place filled with true monsters. And since you’re similar to a fertility goddess, they’ll want to tear you apart.”

Nodding quickly you felt a shiver run down your spine at the demanding tone of his voice and the powerful stance he took. “I promise…” Your voice was a meek whisper and it made Aizawa feel horrible for being so hard on you. “I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to be so harsh, I just if something happened to you, your father would never forgive me…” and I wouldn’t forgive me, he wanted to scream… but he didn’t want to seem like a creepy old man. Of course it wasn’t weird for gods and goddesses to feel powerful emotions like this but- this was wrong… right?

You merely bit your lip and nodded, before walking forward, “It’s okay ‘zawa, sometimes you can’t turn off being king huh?” Your laughter filled the air and he just followed you as you both continued the tour. Everytime you could, you would sneak a look at the raven haired man, how could someone be so- beautiful? He took your breath away, really every detail was just so pretty, even the scar on his cheek bone, all you wanted to do was touch it and ask him about it then kiss it when he told you.

Sadly, like aizawa, you couldn’t help your thoughts and insecurities get to you as you kept thinking about maybe being flirty, see where it takes you… you were too young, plus you were here for a job! Strictly business! You’d be branded if you got with the king, your parents would be shamed! And if he turned you down what would he think of your parents? Would they lose their work here? Gods you couldn’t do that to them… hell, was he even single?

*•*

“Shoutaaa” A woman's voice made you both jump just as you were coming to the end of the tour, and Aizawa automatically grimace as he saw the green haired nymph. “What do you want Emi?” It was like you weren’t even there as the woman- now known as Emi walked up to Aizawa and flung her arms around his shoulders with a devious smile, “You know what I want…listen I’m sorry for not making it the other week, I was just tired…”

Aizawa pushed her off and scoffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah and I’m tired of you taking me as a joke. You have a job, and you’re lucky you still have that job. Get going” His jaw clenched as you merely looked at the situation, the woman looking taken back, her eyes finally settling on your form “Is it because of her? She doesn’t even look like she could handle you.” Her bluntly lewd statement made both you and aizawa blush before he spoke up in your defense, the lightest blush on his face.

“She’s the daughter of a friend Emi. Not that it’s your concern anyway, but this has nothing to do with her.” Emi rolled her eyes before trailing her fingers down Aizawa’s jaw and clicking her tongue, “You’ll be back.” Her voice was confident and sassy as she turned around and sauntered off, leaving you with a confused face and aizawa looking like he was about to blow. Well… I guess that answers your question. Mentally you just state his relationship status as: ‘It’s complicated’...

Taglist; @present-mel @maya-ngpirit @a-match-into-themoon @nhievyenne @negansnumberonewifie @darkqueenhyde @minfani @the-british-koala @lhcartoonist @fairy-inthegarden @creolemimi @taylor----wonderland

#mha fanfiction #mha imagines #aizawa imagine #aizawa x reader #bnha shouta aizawa #mha aizawa #shouta aizawa headcanons #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa fanfiction #shoto aizawa #mha hawks #hawks imagine #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawksbnha #my hero academia keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #mha keigo takami #bnha shinso hitoshi #shinsou headcanons #mha shinsou #bnha shinsou #shinsou x reader #katsuki imagine #katsuki bakugo imagine #mha katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #littlegoddessfic

[maria-scribbles]

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part four

summary: carmen actually steps foot inside her own house after discovering her daughter isn’t the only teenager living there. the hurricane hurtling toward the island matches the tempest in sailor’s heart as she finally gets some long-overdue words off her chest that her mom isn’t very happy to hear and two friends inch closer and closer to crossing that metaphorical line.

word count: 6.6k+ (oops, i did it again 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect, gambling addiction, child abandonment, being kicked out of home, fluff, swearing, underage drinking, flirting, having shitty dads, mentions of weed, star wars, and sailor’s unhealthy addiction to nutella, mention and direct quote of the percy jackson and the olympians series (again), subtle nod to new girl (i love seeing how many references i can make lmao)

a/n: first off, i just want to thank each and every one of you for your likes, reblogs, and especially your wonderful comments! they mean to world to me, seriously ❤ now, here comes the dramaaaaa! we get to dive into sailor’s complicated, turbulent relationship with her mother (sailor, like john b, has a very big, very real fear of being abandoned by people she loves because of her dad) before heading toward the canon timeline of the show. the quote about the sea near the beginning is from jaques cousteau, legendary french naval officer, marine explorer and filmmaker who co-created the aqua-lung and paved the way for modern scuba diving. he also pioneered marine conservation and discovered the wreck of the hmhs britannic, sister ship of the rms titanic! so overall, he was a pretty cool dude and i feel that he’d be a personal hero to ocean-loving sailor (maybe even kiara as well, considering her love of the environment/conservation).

unbetaed as usual so all mistakes are my b.

gif credit to @toesure (who has the most beautiful gifs, ngl)

~Masterlist~

part four: high tide

The sun’s just peeking its rays over the horizon, painting the deep blue sky the softest shades of pink and orange. Calm, steady waves lap against the shore and over Sailor’s bare feet as she stands alone on an empty and desolate beach, the only signs of life coming from the seagulls squawking overhead. The air is thick and sticky with early morning humidity, the type that makes it hard to breathe and frizzes the hell out of her wavy hair, and she can already feel moisture starting to collect on her skin.

Why’s she here again? She can’t remember a reason and come to think of it, she can’t remember exactly how she got here, either. Did she drive? She turns her back to the ocean and its entrancing pull to look for her truck but finds the surf shop is the only thing she can see clearly, the world surrounding it blurred in an incomprehensible mess of color; the sight should’ve caused anxiety to take root in her chest but somehow she finds herself unbothered, relaxed. Somehow, she feels at home.

“The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”

Sailor’s head snaps to the left at the sound of a painfully familiar voice. A tall, redheaded man now stands in what was only a few seconds ago an empty space, smiling out over the water with the brilliant colors of the sky reflecting in his green eyes.

“Dad?”

Ryan doesn’t seem to hear the incredulous tone in her voice or even the fact that she spoke at all as he turns to face her and asks a question of his own, “It’s true, don’t you think?”

Of course she does. The sea has had her under its captivating, magnetic spell ever since she first laid eyes on it when she was a toddler, a baby, even. Her parents always said she wanted to spend every waking moment at the beach, combing the sand for shells and staring out at the water, imagining what new discoveries were waiting for her in its depths. Her mouth moves on it’s own as she replies, “You know I do.”

It’s not what she wants to say at all. She wants so badly to yell at him, let out her frustrations and hurt and pain ‘how dare you leave us’ ‘what did I do wrong’ ‘why haven’t you come back yet’ but finds that she can’t form the words. It’s like she’s watching a video, or maybe reliving a memory -oh. It feels like a memory because it is one, she recognizes with a start, of the week before he took off and abandoned them for the very first time, leaving behind a gaping, bleeding wound that neither Sailor nor her mother ever managed to properly stitch back together.

Ryan’s smile widens. “Always got your eyes on the horizon, Starfish. Just like your old man.”

Her heart clenches at the old, familiar nickname that she hasn’t heard in years, like she’s looking at a favorite pair of childhood shoes or an old t-shirt from a family vacation long past and realizing she doesn’t fit in them anymore, that she’s moved on, and surprisingly, it doesn’t sting as much as she thought it would.

“Come on,” Her father says and when he reaches out to her, Sailor finds herself reaching back with a much smaller, eight-year old sized hand that’s swallowed by Ryan’s larger, calloused palm. “Think you can go fifteen feet today?”

“Fifteen? I’m gonna go twenty!” She declares confidently in her most grown-up voice, giggling when her dad beams and hoists her little body up into his arms, the stubble on his face tickling her skin as he plants a kiss on her cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

He runs into the surf, tossing a laughing Sailor into the ocean when it’s waist deep before they wade out, further and further until the sandy floor drops away from their feet and they’re left treading water.

“Ready, Starfish?”

“Ready!”

The sun breaks over the horizon and casts its golden light on the pair, turning their hair an identical shade of fiery red just as they dive below. She has to work harder to keep up with her father’s longer strokes but she does it and reaches the bottom the same time he does; he smiles widely and reaches out to quickly cup her cheek, pride shining clearly in his eyes and she beams back before turning away to scan the floor for any worthy shells. Finding a knobbed whelk a few feet away, she swims over to grab it before pushing off toward the surface, Ryan following close behind. The sun becomes brighter and brighter the closer she gets and just when her head breaks through the waves-

Sailor wakes.

The early morning sun shines across her eyes through the curtains as she stares up at the surfboard above her bed, the very shelf were the whelk from that day still sits, proudly displayed with her other finds. Yawning, she runs her hands over her face and blinks away the last threads of sleep still clinging to her lashes, along with the memory of her dream. Moments like that with her father were rare. Ryan was a blast to be around when he was happy doing something he wanted to do, like diving for shells, hitting up the bowling alley for a few games, or taking his old, beat up boat out into the marsh to fish for hours on end (never something mundane as doing the dishes or folding the laundry, no, those were children’s jobs and being an only kid, those responsibilities fell to Sailor.). Moments like that were when she felt that -naively, foolishly- her dad was actually proud of her, that he wasn’t horribly inconvenienced by her having the audacity to be his daughter, to be born, that maybe he loved her as much as she loved him.

Cold from a sudden shiver that runs through her body, she rolls onto her side to seek out the best human space heater she knows but her arm only finds empty sheets lacking warmth, her hand reaching for someone who’s no longer there. She frowns and sits up, fingers automatically running through her sleep mussed waves in a semi-futile attempt to fix them into something less resembling a bird’s nest. A quick check of the phone she doesn’t remember plugging in to charge reveals its just before 7 in the morning and her confusion over her missing bedmate only grows; JJ’s rarely ever conscious before 9 AM at the absolute earliest and almost never by his own volition unless surfing’s involved. Even Binx is gone from his usual spot at the end of the bed, leaving her truly alone in the tiny room.

On the floor alongside his boots, the backpack she never noticed him having yesterday is still where he dropped it with its zipper open wide, while his phone rests next to hers on the bedside table and Sailor feels an almost embarrassing wave of relief wash over her knowing he’s still here, that he didn’t just up and disappear in the middle of the night, that he stayed (of all the times he’s come to her before, only once did he leave before dawn and, after she’d frantically tracked him down at John B’s place, tears in her eyes and streaming down her face at the thought of him returning to the lion’s den that he called home, he held her close and promised to never do it again.). She pulls herself out of bed and crosses the room to pull on a random hoodie from the closet before pocketing her phone and padding into the hall, the wooden floor cool under her bare feet.

A demanding meow comes from the kitchen followed immediately by a vexed, “Binx, my dude. For the last time, you can’t have this.” JJ’s bright laugh echoes throughout the room when Binx meows again, this one more insistent than the last and the redhead smiles, quietly shuffling forward to lean against the wall. He doesn’t notice, instead holding a finger to his lips as he shushes the cat sitting on the counter beside him, then turns back to whatever he’s doing. “Be quiet, dumbass! You don’t wanna wake your mom up, do you?”

“I don’t know, sounds to me like he might need my help.”

He startles at her teasing voice, nearly dropping the butter knife in his hand as she steps forward and scoops Binx into her arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Is mean old J not feeding you, Binxy? That just won’t do!”

He rolls his eyes but the grin tugging the corners of his mouth upward betrays his amusement as he says sarcastically, “Yeah, I’m the bad guy for not giving the brat Nutella. Great.”

With a laugh, Sailor gives the cat another loving scratch behind the ears before gently setting him on the floor and hoisting herself onto the counter beside JJ, her legs swinging back and forth and lightly brushing against his side. “So...you’re up early.” She says, watching him scrape the last bit of Nutella out of the jar and smear it on some toast, another piece already made on the plate at his elbow.

“Yeah, I woke up and couldn’t go back to bed.” He shrugs, tossing the knife in the sink and the empty container into the trash; her stomach does a little flip when he brings his hand to his mouth and licks away the chocolate left behind on his thumb, then continues, “Sorry if I woke you up. I tried to be quiet but that shithead over there wouldn’t shut up.”

He nods his chin in the direction of a lounging Binx, stretched out on the back of the couch in the sun and she shakes her head. “Don’t worry, you didn’t. I-” She shrugs, too, and meets his blue-eyed gaze. “I guess I couldn’t sleep, either.”

“Bad dream?” JJ asks, holding the plate of toast out to her and she takes a piece with a grateful smile as she replies, “I’d call it more of a bittersweet memory.”

They both fall into a comfortable silence while they eat until he suddenly asks another question around a mouthful of breakfast, “About your dad?”

Sailor freezes mid-chew, her father’s green eyes flicking away from her best friend’s face toward the floor as she swallows thickly, her free hand anxiously clenching the fabric of her shorts. After a long, pregnant pause in which they finish their food and he puts the dirty plate in the sink, she finally says softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

She apologizes again, staring down at the floor and swinging her legs back and forth, her bare feet hitting the cabinet with dull thuds.

“For what?” His brow furrows in confusion while he takes a step forward to stand between her legs, one hand reaching to hook a finger under her chin and lift her head so he can look her in the eye, the other resting on her knee. “Seriously, help me out here ‘cause I’m confused as fuck.”

“Because I feel guilty, okay?” She starts, eyelids briefly closing as she takes a deep breath before snapping open again and continuing before he can interrupt, “Here I am, getting upset over a stupid dream I had about my gambling addict dad that ditched me when your dad does that,” -she points to his bruised ribs- “and this,” -her palm rests on his cheek, thumb skimming over his scabbed lip- “and God, I just-”

“Whoa, hold up there, Sail.” JJ cuts her off, his free hand joining the other in cupping her face, “Just because your dad never hit you doesn’t mean you don’t have something to be pissed about. He abandoned you, stole your mom’s money, and made you feel like shit! You have a right to be mad as fuck about it.”

“But-”

“But nothing! We’re not having a fucking competition about who has the shittiest dad,” -He smirks devilishly, brushing a wayward red curl off her forehead- “because they both suck major dick. End of story.”

In spite of herself, Sailor snickers as she winds her arms around his neck and pulls him close, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder while his own arms slide around her waist. “We should start a club.” She jokes lightly and feels his snort of laughter against her ear in response.

“‘Shitty Dad Society,’” He declares proudly, “I call being president.”

“Well, I’m your VP! Binx’s our secretary- shit, I’ll be treasurer, too ‘cause I don’t trust you with any type of financial situation at all.”

He laughs again, hand tightening its grip on her waist and she smiles into his neck as he says, “That’s fair. We should make shirts.”

They settle into another comfortable silence after that, both more than happy to relax in the other’s arms and just be. It’s one of her favorite things about..whatever they are, the ease, the contentment, the familiarity felt when they’re together are sentiments she never, ever wants to lose and a thought, an exciting, dangerous thought pops into her head: what if he never has to leave?

“Come live with me.”

“...what?”

Oh, fuck, she just said that out loud, didn’t she? Brain, enter panic mode. The redhead abruptly pulls out of his embrace and buries her already blushing face into shaking hands, closing her eyes tight for good measure, stammering between her fingers, “Nothing, nothing! I said nothing!”

“Pretty sure you said something,” His hands encircle her wrists and gently pull them down to her lap. “And it wasn’t ‘nothing.’”

She stares down at their entwined fingers resting on her thighs, the backs of his hands deliriously warm against her exposed skin and grounding her to this (scary, exciting, vulnerable) moment, and blurts out in a rush, “I said, come live here. With me.”

JJ doesn’t speak, but the way his hands almost imperceptibly tighten their hold on hers -she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t already been looking- compels her to raise her head and meet his eyes; the indescribable depth of the ocean is behind his gaze, as well as the barest hint of pure, brazen hope, and it says everything his mouth won’t.

“Remember yesterday, when you said you don’t know how much more you can take?” She asks. At his tight nod, she weaves her fingers even more intricately with his and admits softly, “Well, I’m not sure how much more I can take, either.”

Sailor’s eyes sweep over the cuts on his face with all the gentleness of a lover, his lip first, followed by the one on his cheekbone before meeting his again. “I can’t...I can’t see you hurt like this anymore.”

Blue stares into green for an insurmountable stretch of time, long enough that she starts to think that she should’ve just kept her big mouth shut, until he finally whispers, “Seriously?”

“J, I’ve never been more serious about something in my entire life. I can’t let him do this to you anymore.” She finishes with a shrug, “My mom’s never here, anyway. It’d be, uh, really nice to not be alone all the time ‘cause as much as I love him, Binx doesn’t count.”

His eyes become stormy at that casual admission of loneliness for just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment before brightening into their natural blue, the same color of the sky on a clear day as he says simply, “Okay.”

“Seriously?” It’s her turn to ask it now and the smile that breaks over her face when he nods is one of unabashed relief; without thinking, she leans closer and presses her forehead to his. “Good.”

He smiles, too, and briefly lets his eyes fall shut at the contact as he jokes, “Just so you know, Flynn, I’m probably not gonna be the best roommate.”

“Please,” She giggles, freeing one of her hands to playfully push at his shoulder, “I live with the most spoiled, demanding cat in the world. I think I can handle you, Maybank.”

The teasing smirk on his face makes her heart beat a little faster. “We’ll see about that.”

Sailor decides to pretend she didn’t hear his loaded comment (she’s not quite ready to open up that particular can of worms just yet), instead pulling her phone from her hoodie pocket to check the time. “Alright, here’s the deal: in one,” -she glances at the time again because holy shit does she have the short-term memory of a fucking chimp- “two hours, we’re going shopping and, hey, don’t give me that look!” She laughs at the pained expression that crosses his face, “If you’re gonna live here, get ready to put in the work.”

JJ offers her a lazy salute with his free hand and she rolls her eyes, trying her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as he says coyly (again, damn him!), “Yes, ma’am.”

“Until then, though,” The redhead continues, hopping off the counter to grab his hand and starts pulling him toward the hall to her room, “We have a book to read and you have some Greek to mispronounce.”

“Fuck, you’re bossy.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

-

It goes like this: for nearly three weeks, life for the pair is pretty damn good. The summer days pass the same as they had been, either spent lazing around with the rest of the pogues or working their variety of jobs -Sailor at the ice cream parlor, along with her weekly shell dives and the beginner surf classes she teaches for The Sandbar, JJ at the country club and doing whatever odd jobs he can find around the island- as June slowly bleeds into July. They find themselves doing everything together: shopping, cooking dinner, sharing her tiny room, and it’s so painfully domestic, so natural and so right that it hurts to wrap her head around it.

If their friends notice, none of them comment on it, even though she sees the looks sent their way whenever they both hop out of Sailor’s truck together (most are curtesy of eagle-eyed Kiara, but Pope and even the ever oblivious John B raise their eyebrows a few times). At night they continue to read through the Percy Jackson series, taking turns reading aloud each evening and for a short, blissful time, they let go of the burdens weighing heavy on their shoulders. For a while, everything is close to perfect.

Typically, predictably, it doesn’t last and when shit finally hits the fan, it happens in epic fashion because nothing is ever easy when they’re involved.

It happens a few days after the Fourth of July. It’s late-afternoon, Hurricane Agatha brewing off the coast causing the clouds to streak faster through the sky and, with the rest of their friends working or otherwise occupied, the two teenagers decide to spend a day lounging at home, getting in a few more chapters of The Battle of the Labyrinth and drinking the beer left over from a night of partying at John B’s house.

“’Jumping out a window five hundred feet above ground is not usually my idea of fun,’“ Sailor reads as she relaxes on the couch, book in one hand and can of PBR in the other, the wind blowing in through the open window ruffling her hair, “‘Especially when I’m wearing bronze wings and flapping my arms like a duck.’“

“I’ll drink to that,” JJ says, briefly lifting his head from her lap to chug the rest of his beer before settling back down, feet propped up on the couch’s arm. They’re both a little buzzed, having lost count of how many drinks they’ve downed but she’s had enough to make her start giggling at his comment as she struggles to keep reading while Binx, fed up with the noise, jumps down from his spot behind her and slinks down the hall to find some peace and quiet.

“Damn you, stop it!” She laughs harder as he pulls a ridiculous face at her pronunciation of Daedalus, then shoots her an impish grin and she responds by ‘accidentally’ dropping the paperback on his face. Both are so caught up in hysterics that they don’t notice the sound of a car pulling into the driveway or a key unlocking the front door.

“Sailor!”

The girl freezes at her name, green eyes widening at the sharp tone of her mother’s voice. Slowly, she turns her head to look over her shoulder where she stands, arms crossed, and she’s so shocked Carmen’s actually looking her in the eye that nothing comes out of her open mouth but an oh so eloquent “huh?”

“What the hell is going on here?” The older woman demands, moving around the couch before either teenager can react, and her eyes narrow when she catches sight of JJ’s head on her daughter’s thigh and the empty beer cans on the end table. “Are you two drunk? Get up, now.”

He hastily does as she asks, eyes downcast to the floor and shaking hands clenched at his sides; ignoring her mother’s glare, Sailor deliberately reaches over and rests one palm on top of his as she says tightly, “Nice to see you home for once, I’m surprised you remembered where it is.”

It’s a low blow and she knows it but she can’t find it in her fuzzy, alcohol-numbed brain to care when Carmen reels back like she’s been slapped before she seems to compose herself, mouth pressing into a thin line. “Sailor Giselle, don’t you dare talk to your mother like that!”

The redhead feels something inside her snap and she glares up at the only parent she has left, all but spitting her next words, “Then start acting like my mother! This is the first time I’ve seen you here in four months!”

“I had to come home after Rachel told me you were shacking up with some boy! Do you have any idea-”

“Rachel?!” Sailor explodes at the mention of their obnoxiously invasive old biddy of a neighbor whose sole mission in life is knowing everyone’s business, “God, that hag just can’t keep her nose out of anything can she?”

Carmen crosses her arms once again and glowers at her daughter. “You know how hard it is for me to be in here, Sailor. I asked her to keep an eye on you for me and I’m glad I did.”

The teenager stares at her in disbelief before barking a loud, humorless laugh. “Let me get this straight: you asked our neighbor to spy on me so you didn’t have to come home...so you didn’t have to actually put in some effort?” Carmen opens her mouth to defend herself but before any words can come out, Sailor continues, throwing her free hand in the air, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“This is my house!” Her mother thunders, not noticing the way the silent blond boy flinches at her yell and how her daughter tightens her grip on his hand. “This is my house and I can do whatever I damn well please, including having someone look out for you when I can’t.”

“When you won’t, you mean.” She scoffs, shaking her head in thinly-veiled disgust, “I’m doing just fine on my own, no thanks to you, Mom.”

“Does ‘doing just fine’ mean living alone with this kid?” Carmen spits and when she glances at JJ like he’s gum on the bottom of her shoe, Sailor’s finally had enough and takes a step toward the older woman with a furious glare.

“Will you just let that go? God! He’s my best friend and he needed somewhere to stay, that’s it!”

“I don’t care.” Turning to JJ, she demands coldly, “Go pack your shit and get out.”

“No.” Green eyes hardening into chips of emerald, the redhead grabs his other hand as he goes to leave the room and steps in front of him protectively. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Carmen pinches the bridge of her nose, her voice low as she threatens, “I swear to God, Sailor, either he leaves or I’ll make him leave.”

When she feels his whole body go rigid behind her, she knows her mom’s won this particular battle and before she can even turn to face him he’s disappeared down the hall to her room without a word. Sailor whirls to face her like the wind outside, red hair flying over her shoulder like a whip as she seethes, “How dare you.”

The older woman sighs like she’s the one hurting and crosses to the window before closing it with a firm hand. “Drop it, I’m done arguing.”

“I care about him, Mom, you can’t just kick him out!”

“I said drop it! I don’t give a shit how you feel about him, I’m not having your homeless boyfriend mooching-”

“Jesus Christ -his dad beats the shit out of him!”

The words ring out like a bell, loud and clear and impossible to ignore. Carmen freezes in the middle of picking up a discarded can, tan skin turning pale as she stares, mouth slightly agape, at her daughter; the girl stares back unflinching, and despite her heart’s rapid staccato in her chest, her next words cut like a knife.

“He’s not homeless, okay? But his dad hits him, all the damn time. You’re not gonna stand by and let that happen, are you?”

Her mother’s eyes soften -for a fleeting moment, she looks like her old, caring self again- before they harden to steel, the open expression on her face slamming closed with all the force of a screen door in a hurricane.

“I’m sorry -really, I am- but that’s not my problem.”

Sailor flinches at the icy edge in her voice and looks down at the floor, jaw clenched tight as she tries to blink away the sudden burning behind her eyes. “I...I don’t know you anymore. My mother would never say that.”

She hears Carmen heave another deep sigh as her footsteps slowly head toward the front entry, “You and I have a lot to talk about when I get back from work, Sailor.” She says, followed by the snatching of keys and the door handle turning. “And that boy had better be gone when I do.”

The redhead looks up from her feet, watching the door slam behind her mother’s retreating form before hastily making her way down the hall to her room and like that morning, the wave of relief that she feels when she sees JJ still sitting on her bed, realizing he’s still here, is downright embarrassing but she’s well past the point of caring. In a flash, Sailor’s in his arms, face pressed against his neck as she cries, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Sail, you’ve gotta stop apologizing for things you can’t control.” He whispers when she eventually falls silent and she can’t stop the rough laughter bubbling in her chest, even as her whole world feels like it’s falling apart around her.

“Sorry.”

His own laugh is short and low in her ear, and then he’s pulling her closer as his hand draws soothing circles on her back. She lets herself relax for a brief moment, eyelids fluttering closed at his touch, before she takes a deep breath and pulls back to look him in the eye, hands carelessly wiping away the tears on her cheeks, “Help me pack.”

“...what?”

“When she kicked you out, she kicked me out, too.” She says matter-of-factly at JJ’s confused look while she abruptly kneels, pulling her old suitcase from under the bed and heaving it up onto the mattress.

“Okay, so she didn’t actually kick me out but she might as well have!” The redhead strides to her closet and starts picking out her favorite clothes, tossing them haphazardly onto the bed as she fumes, “God, I even told her about your dad -I’m sorry, shit I did it again- and she said she didn’t care! Not to mention she had our neighbor spy-”

“Sail!” She’s so caught up in her rant that she doesn’t notice when JJ moves to stand beside her, and only when he puts his hands on her shoulders does she stop short, a Kildare County High School sweatshirt dangling from her fingers; she can feel him watching her and when she flicks her gaze up to meet his, she’s not at all prepared for the tempest of emotions -admiration, pride, empathy, something else she can’t name- all crashing like the surf behind his eyes.

Blue. Oh so blue. It’s been her favorite color ever since she knew what colors were and she thinks her favorite shade has to be the one she finds in his eyes: bright, clear, and ever easy to drown in if she’s not careful.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He says it in such a casual way that it’s impossible to think it’s not as intentional as the fingers that slowly tuck a stray curl behind her ear and the thumb that brushes along her flushed cheek.

She just shakes her head with a tiny, bashful smile and her words are an echo of a quiet, rainy night all those weeks ago, “I’m just doing what feels right.”

They fall into an easy rhythm after that, one that helps them both sober up as they fill her suitcase to the brim with everything Sailor thinks she’ll need for a long stay, wherever she ends up. The Chateau makes the most sense of course, but with the DCS breathing down John B’s neck recently, she’s not sure how viable of an option that is but there’s one thing she knows for sure: there’s no way in hell she’s coming back here any time soon. It hurts to leave her shell collection behind -for a brief, dark moment she toys with the idea of tearing the shelf down and smashing them all until they’re turned to dust but she pushes that thought away- so she takes her favorite, the lightning whelk that reminds her of JJ and that day on the beach, and gently tucks it away in her backpack to ease the sting, as a promise to one day return for the rest.

“Jackpot!” JJ exclaims and she looks up to find him on the floor by her chair, pulling up the loose wood board that hides her secret stash of booze and money and reaching in to snag a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels, holding it above his head with a triumphant smile.

“Shit, I forgot that was even in there,” She replies as she kneels beside him and snatches the whiskey from his hand before he can take a swig, slipping it into her backpack, “Not yet.”

“Oh, come on,” He laughs when she rolls her eyes at his pout and reaches into the dark space to pull out an old plastic lunchbox, along with a small flask that gets thrown in her bag without a second glance. “Boooo.”

“Patience,” She teases, opening the cracked lid to take all of the cash inside and stuffs it into the ziploc bag that doubles as a purse (“it’s cheap and waterproof, what more do I need?” was her argument when Kiara asked her why she didn’t have an actual handbag), which she then stuffs in her backpack. “We can get drunk after we get out of here.”

“You had me at ‘drunk,’“ He slides the floorboard back into place after Sailor tosses the empty lunchbox inside and then stands, pulling her up alongside him with his hand in hers, the other reaching out to grab the handle of her suitcase. “Ready when you are.”

The redhead takes one last look around her room, from the assortment of shells and pictures on one wall to her poster of Bethany Hamilton on the other and everything in between -her sanctuary for the longest time- before turning away from the familiar comfort of the old to face the enticing uncertainty of the new. “Let’s go.”

After a quick stop in the bathroom to grab her shampoo, conditioner, and toothbrush -no way in hell is she gonna share any of those with the boys- then the kitchen to grab some food for Binx and the cat himself from the back of the couch (surprisingly, he doesn’t put up much of a fight), they head outside and throw her suitcase and their backpacks in the bed of the truck along with her surfboard.

“John B’s probably gonna be pissed about the cat,” JJ says, leaning against the passenger door with his arms crossed, smirking as she gives him a flat look and unceremoniously dumps Binx onto the bench seat through the driver’s side window.

“Well, John B’s just gonna -stay, Binxy!- have to get used to it. I’m not leaving him behind.”

Across the street, Rachel perches on her porch as she watches the two teenagers with her beady little eyes and Sailor, feeling particularly defiant, grins wickedly. “J, watch this.” Waving to the woman to catch her attention she calls over the wind, “Hey, Rachel!” before slowly extending both middle fingers toward her, one at a time. “That one’s for my mom and this one’s for you, you nosy bitch!”

He instantly joins in and both hold their hands high, cackling with laughter, until the old crone scowls and slithers back into her house like the snake she is. “Good riddance,” the redhead says, opening the truck’s door and sliding behind the wheel, “Let’s blow this joint.”

“Joint?” JJ asks, climbing into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him, Binx instantly curling up on his lap, “Did you say joint?”

“You and weed, I swear...” She laughs and goes to start the engine before she realizes she’s grasping at an empty ignition and lets her head fall against the steering wheel with a thunk, “Son of a bitch, I forgot my keys. I’ll be right back.”

Going back inside isn’t as hard as Sailor thought it would be, but leaving is a whole other ball game. She snatches her keys from the bathroom sink where she left them and heads back toward the front door; she’s just passing by their family portrait when it hits her: this is it, the last time in who knows how long she’ll be here. It’s now or never. She thinks of it as a weight on her shoulders, one that’s been dragging her down for far too long, like Atlas holding up the sky, but unlike him, she’s going to break the chains and set herself free.

In one final, sudden burst of years of anger and hurt and frustration, she rips the picture from the hook and smashes it to the floor, sending pieces of glass and wood skittering down the hall before striding from the house and all its memories without a backwards glance, slamming the door behind her with a resolute bang.

-

Surprisingly, John B doesn’t give a shit about the cat when they show up at the Chateau but he does give a shit about Sailor and her well-being after they give him a quick rundown of the afternoon’s happenings.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sail?” He asks as he and JJ carry her bags into the house and deposit them in the spare room, the redhead trailing behind with Binx in her arms.

“That’s the age old question, bro,” She deflects with a shrug, taking a seat on the bed and setting the cat down beside her; he instantly takes off to explore his new home as she continues, “Who actually knows if they’re okay? What’s okay to one person can be completely different to another-”

“Sailor, seriously.”

She glances back and forth between the two boys -two sweet, caring boys- watching her with twin looks of understanding and relents. “Look, I’m still kind of...processing everything, alright? I’m not exactly sure what I’m feeling and I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for me to find out but I promise you,” She says softly, looking them both in the eye, “I’ll let you know if I’m not okay. Deal?”

JJ shoots her an enthusiastic thumbs up while John B opts for a simple nod and she grins before pulling the bottle of Jack Daniels from her backpack with a flourish. “Good. Now, I think we could all use a drink.”

The trio (and Binx, house thoroughly explored) bums around the living room while the afternoon slowly turns to evening, the wind outside getting worse with each passing hour the storm moves closer, passing the bottle back and forth until none of them are anywhere close to sober. What started as a game of truth or dare quickly dissolves into straight up truth as they get remarkably philosophical about what animal they’d want to be (an eagle for John B, a wolf for JJ, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, a dolphin for Sailor) and then have a deep, animated discussion about the best Star Wars movie and why it’s The Empire Strikes Back. Later, when the whiskey’s down to a few sips left and their collective demons have retreated to the very back of their minds, JJ drunkenly suggests playing strip poker and both Sailor and John B have to remind him that none of them a.) know how to play poker or b.) even own a deck of cards.

“Damn it!” The sly grin falls from his face when he realizes they’re right and he dejectedly sinks back into the couch, head coming to rest on the redhead’s shoulder. “I wanna see you take your clothes off, Flynn.”

She laughs loudly and grabs the bottle from his hand before taking a big sip and passing it to John B. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, Maybank.” Whiskey, she found out few months ago, hits her hard: her filter? Gone. Blushing? Aside from the flush in her cheeks from the alcohol, gone. Self-consciousness? As long gone as her father. She’ll flirt her heart out without giving a single shit and it’s both a blessing and a curse, as well as an endless source of secondhand embarrassment in the morning.

“That’s okay, you know I like a challenge.” He declares with a wink, cracking up when she plants her hand directly on his face and pushes him off her shoulder as John B snorts and downs the last of the liquor without either of them noticing.

“Jesus, get a room,” He uses the empty bottle to point down the hall, then sets it on the side table with a hollow thunk as he leans back and stretches his arms above his head. “There’s one right there.”

Sailor gives him a swift kick in the shin with her bare foot for that, plus the shit-eating grin on his face. The trio lounges around for a little while longer, relaxing in a whiskey-induced haze; the redhead finds herself nodding off every so often, slipping back further and further until her head finds a place to rest on JJ’s lap and her legs end up on John B’s. The feel of fingers running through her hair is so feather light that she can barely keep her eyes open and before she knows it, she’s down for the count.

When she wakes some indefinite amount of time later the room is dark, the only light coming from the moon shining through the windows and John B’s gone from his spot by her feet, Binx curled up in a ball on the cushion instead. JJ’s dead asleep, hand stalled in her curls and the sight of his head tipped back against the couch with his mouth slightly open is so damn endearing that she can’t help but smile, even as she reaches a hand up to gently shake his shoulder.

“J, wake up.”

“Five more minutes.” He groans, free hand sluggishly pushing her arm away. Sailor sits up and swivels to face him before shaking him again, giggling quietly at the way his head lolls from side to side.

“Come on, the bed’s way comfier than this.”

Sleepy blue eyes open to give her a heavy look that screams both gratification and longing and so much hope as he quips, “You just want me in your bed again, don’t you?”

She reverently rolls her eyes but reaches to grab his hands anyway and pulls him to his feet, both swaying in place before they find their balance. “And if I do?”

The corner of his mouth rises in a small, adorable smile as his fingers entwine with hers. “I’d say that’s right where I want to be.”

“Well, you’re in luck ‘cause that’s where I want you to be, too.” Still a little bit tipsy, her words are honest, sincere, and as she leads him down the hall, she realizes that old saying is true: drunk words are sober thoughts. After three weeks sharing a home, a room, a bed, she just doesn’t think she can sleep without him anymore and that belief doesn’t quite scare her as much as she thought it would.

Lying wrapped up in his arms in the dark, Sailor finds herself dreaming of a future -as much of a future an impoverished, quasi-homeless, not-quite alright, not-quite-seventeen year old can dream of- with the damaged boy that holds oceans in his eyes.

-

A few miles away, Carmen Flynn sits on her daughter’s bed with a broken picture frame in her hands as she cries, all alone in an empty house with no idea how to make things okay again.

-

let me know what you think! also, fun fact: sailor compares her short-term memory to a chimp because studies have shown that chimpanzees are the absolute worst at remembering things, not goldfish as we previously thought (they can remember things for at least five months, compared to chimps who, despite their similarities to humans, forget things in about twenty seconds). sailor, being a zoology nerd, would definitely find that fascinating and make it her mission to educate the masses that goldfish aren’t that stupid jj finds it both adorable and kind of hot

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves​ @jiaraendgame​ @hmsjiara​ @obxsummer​ @maysbanks​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @sunflowerbecca​ @obxlife​ @obx-adventures​ @sexualparkour​ @coltonparayyko​ @miawantsapuppy​ @jjmaybanky​ @ethereallust​

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fic #obx fic #obx netflix #obx #my fics #obx fanfic #jj x reader #jj x oc #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #john b #john b routledge #obx imagines #rudy pankow #jj fanfic #jj maybank x oc fic #jj maybank x reader

[hazelenergy]

What happened that final night.

One year ago today was my last Elysium in Atlanta. And in a mere 48 hours, I will have betrayed and killed my adoptive sire, blood bonded myself to the wild sister of two famous Malkavians, and lost two people I loved. 

A few days prior to this night was the beginning of the end. A bloodhunt was called in Atlanta. Not for me. Not for the other thinbloods. A salubri had entered the city. Our adoptive sire, Mary Andrews and primogen of the Tremere (and the only Tremere in the city..I dont know actually why she was alone but I have theories) ordered her children, myself and my two shovelheaded broodmates to bring this man to her alive. We complied. At first. 

Solomon had been working closely with Reverend Clancy, the primogen of Clan Brujah. We never knew Solomon’s bloodline, but he vibed with the righteous and nonviolent nature of Clancy’s leadership. Clancy told us the other half of the history of clan Tremere and the Salubri. We were devastated. And now our adoptive sire wanted this man and would probably experiment on him like she did to us. And it would be worse. He can heal. He’d be able to endure what she did to us. So Clancy asked us, two lowly thinbloods, to help him and his clan free this man and get him out of the city. We said yes without questioning the consequences. 

Long story short we put our ability to blend with humans to the test at Airport security. We managed to slide through the TSA check with ease- without tipping off the inquisition either. Solomon and I had intercepted the international flight by getting the plane to dock in the incorrect port, allowing the Salubri to slip past the sheriff and his hired guards. Things didn’t go as well as we hoped- as the Sheriff caught on to someone was messing with the radio tower and hopped over to where we were hiding. We had already called the brujah boys to the airfield to intercede the sheriff’s men. A huge fire fight broke out. The brujah were losing so Solomon and I made a rash decision. We used far reach together and launched a fuel tank at the gun fight- fire engulfed the scene. Solomon and I fled into the night- starving, but unscathed. Cue camarilla media blackout and clean up. 

The next night we were ordered to return to the chantry. We refused and gave pitiful excuses saying things like keeping face by going to a night job or Solomon had a legit excuse of needing to write his Yom Kippur service. Instead we tracked down Clancy and the brujah and high tailed the Salubri out of Atlanta. Clancy handled the money for the dark flight and I wore less clothing to convince the guy to bypass security. Our Salubri was in the air and out of Atlanta. But the sheriff was on our trail. Someone had to take the blame. Clancy knew how hard we had worked. He was the only kindred who knew about the safehouse project. He took the fall for freeing the Salubri and let himself be staked by the sheriff as we fled unseen into the night. 

The following night, we did go to Mary’s Haven. She immediately shoveled us into the car and took us to Elysium. She knew we had something to do with this. Or just wanted to see us squirm. Regardless. Clancy had been placed on trial for his crimes against the Prince and the brujah were ready to Throw. Down. The air was tense and violent choleric resonances dominated the room. There is one brujah in particular, Jamal. He was basically an anarch. The only reason he wasn’t a Baron and fighting the Prince was because of his faith and trust in Clancy. He was nearly going to free Clancy then and there- if it wasn’t for Solomon. Sol begged him to let him play the political game first. Solomon  offered himself to the prince as the duskborn primogen. He advised the prince that Clancy’s life was the spindly thread that kept the brujah from rioting. Solomon ruled that Clancy should be exiled but allowed to live. The Prince agreed. The brujah and Jamal backed down- begrudgingly. Clancy was still staked and was to be driven out of the city once Solomon achieved a few goals as his new primogen. Mary was furious. Was it because her ex had arrived in the city and had gotten close to her other child? Oh that was a part of it- for sure. Somehow this night really did not go according to plan and the car ride home was AWKWARD. 

That night Mary tried to get me to drink from her again- which uhhh no. Idk what you all know about Tremere who follow Carna- but they can still blood bond. And that made her even angrier. She was willing to try anything to get either myself or Solomon to comply. We resisted. That’s when I figured out Mary had slipped on some control over us and wanted to reclaim it. So, I left the haven that night and went to get some sweet distractions at Atlanta’s Asylum chain. That’s when I decided to stop being careful and took that final drink- as a huge fuck you to Mary and to give myself the edge I wanted. I’d have the swirling madness and premonitions in my system for a while and could be thinking ahead of her. I didn’t realize how loopy I’d get. I felt higher than ever before and couldn’t keep my thoughts from spilling out of my mouth.  I stumbled back into the chantry and told my adoptive sire this:

“I reject your blood.”

and

“Any kindred that bothers with me is up to something. You. You chose me. YOURE Up to Something And I wont let it happen.”

She looked me in the eye and said, "tell the truth."

I babbled about everything. The page from the book of Nod and how I copied it. The alchemy I kept from her. The thaumaturgy I tried and made a mess. How she blood bonded Tommy. Letting the Salubri go. How I knew about her plan to usurp the Prince- the madness told me what she’d do. We argued until the sun came up. I went to bed, thinking that I’d have to continue the talk in the evening. I didn’t expect to find myself warded into my own room, windows loaded with explosives, security cameras installed, and my girlfriend Lisa trapped with me. Mary had called an emergency Elysium- excluding Solomon. They were planning our executions. I made it out, barely. Mary’s ghoul and Lisa were killed when one of the explosives went off. There was nothing left but her necklace. In a fit of grief, rage, sorrow I don’t know what emotions I was feeling but it was a lot of them. I obliterated the wards around Mary’s private lab and took whatever I could carry. 

We drove off, thinking we’d lay low for a few hours before Mary could use trail of prey on me. We could beg borrow and steal to get our things and get out. I had just parked the car when I vomited the first time. My blood began bubbling and boiling and oozing out of every open surface it could. I had three bullet holes in my stomach- the bullets were pushed out as my blood gushed. I spent the next fifteen minutes in agonizing pain as Mary called my phone. She heard every gag and wretch- and laughed. The ultimatum was to bring me before the Prince to be put out of my misery, and return what I stole. I told her to go fuck herself. Within seconds, my blood was boiling again and I was a mess on the sidewalk. 

The next few hours were agony waiting. I didn’t know if she’d do it again. But the clock was ticking. The Prince had ordered a hunt for us. And Mary’s ritual to dominate the Prince and the entire court was already ignited. We could have just fled right then. Fuck the Camarilla of Atlanta. Fuck everything about this place. Lets leave and never look back.... But Solomon still had too much to lose in Atlanta- and was willing to fight for it. And Cass had old wounds from Mary (they were an item at one point omg). And I wanted to go so badly- but what I wanted more was to see her vitae spilling out onto the floor as I drove my knife through her. So after cleaning myself from the third wave of dagons call and alleycat hunting for the first time- we took what little time we had left in the city to put an end to this. 

We used the first hour before sunset to gear up. I immediately drove out to the few spots to where thinbloods were hiding and told them to RUN. Find a new city or something- just get out. A few times they looked at me with power hungry eyes. It was a perfect opportunity to take a wanted kindred to the Prince and move up the ranks. I reminded them that they are not known by the prince. And to take me in was to also announce themselves- amidst a time when they are using thinbloods as scapegoats for anything gone wrong. And BOY. Is it going wrong. The last stop I made was to my alchemical dealer. I drained my bank account and bought some of the most powerful brews I’ve ever drank. As a parting gift, or grift if you ask me, he let me have his best brew: Potence.

Solomon went to free Clancy with a group of the brujah boys. A minor fire fight broke out. Solomon was a bit roughed up- both physically and spiritually. I think he had broken one of his own oaths and it was weighing heavily on him. 

When we met up at the edges of Mary’s Haven- we didn’t realize how quickly she had redone the wards. As one of the Brujah boys drove up the path it kept twisting and winding to steer us back to the front gate. Eventually I crawled into the drivers seat. Even though I wasn’t welcome anymore- I was the last one to drive this path and now armed with malkavian whispers. It wasn’t my best driving. Certainly creative. But I got us to the bottom of the hill and we could see the lights to the haven. Mary had laid tons of traps as we made our crawl up to the porch. Landmines specifically. Seriously, where the fuck did she get these? Were they always here? 

When we made it to the porch, the sheriff sat illuminated by the single flickering light. That certainly explains why it was so easy to bust Clancy out. Solomon took the diplomatic approach and tried to reason with the sheriff. I knew it wasn’t going to work and hovered one of the explosives over him. If anything happened to Solomon I’d-- two gunshots. Solomon clutched his chest and fell to the ground. There goes the second person I believed was actually good in this world. Thats when fresh vitae rained from above. Yeah, this is where I get frenzy bombs. The brujah boys immediately attack each other. Clancy and I keep our cool. 

I dropped the explosive and the sheriff flies back into the haven. I go to enter the door, and am met with Mary’s hell cat. Far reached the cat aside. I didn’t care. Nothing was going to stand between me and ending this. The sheriff, his skin singed and peeling, turned to me with frenzied eyes. Far reach again. He’ll never lay a hand on me again. I held him still as Cass drove the stake through his chest. We tossed him aside. 

Thats when we realized the basement was warded. It sent Cass flying back everytime she got close. Even Clancy couldn’t get closer than five feet to the doorway. So I pulled out that potence brew and drank it. I slammed my fist into the mahogany floorboards and crashed through two levels of the haven. I fell to my knees surrounded by rubble and looked up to see my adoptive sire performing her ritual- the circle nearly illuminated. “Mom, I’m home.”

When it came down to it, my hand shook and I couldn’t pull the trigger. At first I tried to far reach her out of her circle, but my hunger had gotten the best of me. So instead, Cass took my hand. She fired at my adoptive sire. The Tremere collapsed and fell to ash. I hadn’t seen someone suffer final death before. I stared at the wispy grey ashes fluttering around the room. Suddenly, the house began to crack and crumble. Clancy grabbed both me and Cass and leaped out of the rubble. When we got back to the ground level- the sheriff was gone. Jamal had taken all of him-the last drop. He told Clancy that Atlanta won’t be the same without him- but its going to change in a way he didn’t like. Clancy looked so disappointed. Without a word, He turned and picked up Solomon’s corpse. Sol was now warm. He was dying. He breathed his last breath in Clancy’s arms. The old brujah carried him to his family that night and they got to give him the proper funeral for his faith.

I told Jamal my dark secret and it’s why I couldn’t stay in Atlanta. He told me to get moving and come back when I’m zeroed. “I need a chameleon that can put on charm and take a punch like you.” I was still chased out of Atlanta by a few kindred who wanted that sweet sweet blood hunt boon- but Jamal used it to his advantage. He took them out as I sped away with Cass to Miami. I don’t know what the affairs of Atlanta are like- a mere year later. I know Jamal was going for the Prince since was now without a sheriff missing his two heavy hitting primogen. But regardless of who is in charge- the duskborn trio perished in that haven that night. And we keep it that way.

~HB

_____

Here Jackie, this is the sob story. @ventrue-in-control​

#vtm #thats what happened #most of this is canon...in the chronicle the third drink didnt happen but hazel was still loopy af #vtm chronicle #vampire the masquerade v5 #vtm rp

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 44

Last time: Doctor Marcoh broke the Hippocratic Oath, Envy chose the worst possible host, and a Central Officer showed Armstrong the Great his collection of action figures. Onwards!

Episode 44 - “Revving at Full Throttle” Oh heck yeah, we’re starting at the family reunion in Liore! Camera shows the radio fixed by the Elric Brothers way back when. [Beard]: “It’s been a long time, huh Al?” [Al]: “Yeah.” *awkwardness intensifies* [Beard]: “So, uh… I saw Pinako recently.” *Rose is standing off to the side, probably wondering about this ‘Pinako’ character her new boyfriend is talking about* [Beard]: “She told me about your body.” *awkwardness intensifies* *awkwardness intensifies* *awkwardness intensifies* [Villagers]: “Hey Mister Ho, could you-” [Beard]: “Oh sweet Leto yes get me out of this family drama. Absentee Anime Father, away!” Wow, really? Al are you just gonna let him walk away from this conversation? You haven’t seen him for a large portion, if not most of your life! Demand some friggin answers! Well at least the cook is trying to cheer Al up, thanking him for fixing up the radio. Al apologizes for the riot being caused by them exposing Cornello, but Cookie insists on looking at the good stuff that happened.

Sure people reacted “badly” at first, but now everyone’s all happily working together to rebuild from the ashes of their home! Can’t fault the man’s optimism. Inspired!Al goes running off to help build, seeing their General getting his hands dirty Toad and Boar (still wearing their winter clothes?) tag along, dragging a protesting Yoki with them. The Villagers are realizing Oh Crap We Interrupted Family Reunion, but Beard’s brushing it off. He left when Al was super young, he probably doesn’t even think of Beard as his father anymore. And have you seen the guy try to smalltalk? He doesn’t know what to say- [Al, clanking towards the group]: “Hey pops! Imma help with the building, cool? Cool. Hey NPCs, gimme that heavy stuff to cart around.” Aw, Beard gets to see that Al being trapped in a cold, unfeeling suit of armor hasn’t kept him from being a decent person. Whoa okay bath time for Winry, apologies for interrupting. Winry’s happy to finally get a good bath after traveling for so long. Rose is chatting with her while laying out clothes, admiring Winry for being a independent Automail Engineer at her age. And she was the one who literally got Ed back on his feet, which would mean later he would help Rose get back on hers. *Goes back to Ep 3 Recap*. That’s right, he told her to Keep Moving Forward, that she needed to use her two good legs to make her own path. Rose tells Winry about her misplaced belief in Cornello, when Winry gripes about Ed’s Tough Love routine Rose says that’s just his way of being nice. [Rose]: “But you already know that, don’t you?” [Winry]: *Stammers, blushes, and tries to hide her face in her tea.* So yeah, Ed exposed the truth behind Cornello’s miracles, and now Liore is learning to stand on its own. “All thanks to Ed and Al.”... yeah, calling it now. We’ll come back to this place in a decade or two, and the old Church of Leto will have been replaced with one to The Armor and the Alchemist. Hey, it’s Lizard dude! Bido, according to Bag of Magic Food. He’s going through a tunnel, griping that it was a bad idea to follow those MPs aw crap he’s wandering into Uncle’s sanctum, isn’t he? Turn around dude! But he’s still looking for Mister Greed, squeezes through some pipes to crap it’s the Golem Room. And are the Officer and Armstrong the Great still there? Quick, pull an Igor!

Ok, so it looks like he got there just before the Officer did his “Look at my cool toys” reveal, he’s hiding behind the pipes again. Officer’s explaining that the Golems are empty dummies that they can bond souls to. Oh, so they’re like Advanced Soul Armors, then? Tell me, have you gotten around the problem that Al’s having of the body rejecting the soul? Anyways, the Golems are immortal and apparently any bonded souls will be completely obedient. Alright Armstrong the Great, here’s the kicker; where do the souls to activate the Golems come from? Officer says that they’ll come from rival nations, “through the course of war”. Hoo boy. This was what I was afraid of way back when the concept of Philosopher Stones was introduced to Armstrong the Great. She is fiercely loyal to her troops and those she chooses to protect, it was the threat against her own forces and the reveal that the Goths were going to harvest the entire country that allied her with our main characters. But an army fueled by the conquest of Others? A chance to not just defeat her hated Drachman enemies, but fully convert them to her cause? Weapons that only grow stronger the more she uses them? I mean, with all the pushing around by Central and bullying of her troops I’m giving her 80% odds to still reject the Golems. But that remaining 20… We don’t get to hear any more as Bido freaks the fuck out and bolts back down the tunnels, screaming his head off. [Bido]: “This place is evil! Pure evil! Why did I ever come here?! Mister Greed would never be in an awful place like this-” Oh hey, it’s Ling! How’s Greed going to react to seeing an old “possession”: happy to see something of old that he gets to claim again, or annoyed that one of his old crew fled rather than try to help him? We’ll get back to that, we’re back in Liore where Al is warning Beard about the giant tunnel running under Liore. Beard tells him to stop talking about the Super Secret Goth Plot To Harvest A Country in the middle of the town square, waits until they’re in the ruins of the Church to discuss the story. He’s letting Al explain everything, does he want to keep his own involvement secret for- well never mind, Al’s brought up his Identical Brother chilling in Central. Beard turns away still acting all Mysterious wait what [Menacing!Beard]: “Did it ever cross your mind that I might be on their side?” But you’re not, unless… NOW HOLD UP. If you’re telling me that we’re looking at a Triplet situation, that Uncle made another copy to Oh ok I get it now. Beard is just emphasizing how trusting Al is, at least with him. But seriously dude, now that I’m thinking about it spilling your entire plan to a guy because you think he’s your father is a terrible idea. Maybe ask him to repeat a childhood memory, or somesuch? So after Al gets his non-corporeal heart to calm down from that scare, Beard says that he wants to tell his Backstory to both brothers in order to save time. Right, about that… Back up in the land of snow, at… “Bank’s Bank”? Really? That’s like a restaurant owned by Mister Burger or a law office run by Johnny Litigator. Whatever. Registers are ringing and checks are being cashed when huh. Sorry, just distracted by the banker’s appearance, she’s a lady with blonde hair but brown eyes and Ishvalan skin. What’s her story, is she an Amestrian/Ishvalan child like Sideburns? Moving on, a giant of a man is making a withdrawal oh hey it’s Monkey, he’s drawing from Ed’s account. Uh, are you that badly strapped for cash? You know that a withdrawal from the Protagonist’s account, by an unknown party no less, is going to raise all kinds of flags in Central. Yup, Monkey got the cash from Ed’s research account, but another banker’s already making a call. Ah, so it was for the medical bill. How much was this doctor charging? Oh jeez, the guy’s chuckling and saying he could charge them even more, Monkey complains that he’s already ripping them off but the doc’s likewise squinty-eyed wife says it’s only “reasonable” considering the risks involved.

Well, as long as they keep their mouths shut well never mind, looks like the cops are already on to them. I don’t suppose they can get a refund? The cops show up and push past the doctor, Lion’s getting bandaged by Mrs. Doctor. Oh great way to sell out the resting patient, our guys had better get a refund if he’s going to cave this quickly. No wait it’s just Monkey scowling from under some covers wait is he trying to hide Ed under the sheets? The cop asks if Monkey was at the bank earlier, and pulls a gun… Outside a guard hears someone walking, another white coat? Doctor #2? Cop #1 is ordering for Monkey to put his hands up oh hey the white coat outside is Ed with some groceries! Outfit change? I suppose his red coat was pretty distinctive. While Monkey’s at gunpoint Lion readies his own pistol and Monkey starts drawing his own gun, things might get loud pretty soon. Wait, is Ed’s hair loose? What happened to the ponytail?

Ok yeah, that was pretty distinctive like his coat. Outside guard is listing off the red coat, blond hair worn in a braid… uh oh. Here it comes. [Guard]: “... and short.” [Ed]: *bites through wooden skewer in annoyance* Nice knowing you, guard. The cops in the apartment hear a thud, and #1 tells another to check out the noise. Outside Guard is out cold, Cop #2 tries waking him up before there’s another thud, #1’s left yelling at the other two for answers when

Wait hold on, is Ed grabbing this guy around the neck? Is he standing on a box or something? Unless… no. No! Is it finally happening? Is my little boy finally getting a growth spurt?! … Wait, but if he’s growing taller, but has an artificial leg whoops better find Winry quick to upgrade, fighting might be a bit difficult if you’re all lopsided. Monkey snarks that Ed just had to take out three MPs on his own, when he hasn’t fully recovered yet. [Ed]: “Don’t treat me like an invalid. My injuries are fully healed, and I’m revving at full throttle!” Title drop! And damn but Ed’s rocking the new look. White coat, loose hair, and a growth spurt? Leg imbalance aside, I am totally down for this. Wait, is this because he “used his own life force” to patch himself up earlier? His body aged up from the energy expenditure? Cool! Mid-ep pictures of Bath!Winry and Older!Ed. So is carrying a wooden skewer in your mouth just a thing now, Ed? The doc’s telling Ed and the Chimeras to shove off, doesn’t look like that refund’s coming after all. Ed snags the Guard’s note in passing, thinking about how they’re just looking for the red coat and braid (pointedly ignoring the “short” comment), guess the outfit change is staying around for a while. Whoops! Took too long, some other MPs have shown up and are demanding they freeze. Wait, “move it kid”? Oh yeah, they’re just telling the guys with visible weapons to stand down, they think that the kid chowing down on bread is a bystander. Who just got grabbed by Monkey and threatened with a weapon! Monkey uses the MPs shock at the hostage-taking to tuck Ed under his arm and run for it, outside some more MPs spot them but Lion shoots some snow down on them. Run for it! One hotwired car later, Ed tells ‘Gorilla’ (“Don’t call me that!”) to step on it, but their stolen car isn’t fast enough to outrun vehicles from Northern Command. Dodge a truck so the MPs crash into it? That they… can’t do, actually. The MPs are catching up when Ed says to turn a corner and park. Plan? Transmutation sounds as they round the corner, the MPs follow but… it’s gone? Wait there’s another car in the road, but… … Ow. Ow ow ow. OW! Sweet Leto, but that hurts the eyes. Really, Ed? I can only assume that the MPs brains have shut off from the sheer garishness of that thing, they drive past the parked car looking for something a little more sensible. The Chimeras immediately ask for the car to be turned back to normal. [Ed]: “And why’s that? I think this car looks cool as hell!” [Monkey]: “Just change it back. Please, we’re begging you!” [Ed]: “You guys got a problem with my sense of style?!” [Monkey/Lion]: “You don’t have any!” Outside of town, Monkey’s answering the call of nature while they all discuss being drifters again. Ed’s wait buddy you’ve got your hair back in a ponytail, it’s not a full-on braid but it’s still close enough that any guards are going to give you a second look. Go back to the loose hair disguise! Ed’s thinking about how he let his guard down around Kimblee, and hoping that Al’s ok. For now, the Chimeras are asking their new boss where to go, Ed says that they need to find Al who’s probably with Marcoh now. [Lion]: “You do know how to find them, right?” [Ed]: “Right, about that…” In Liore, Al’s trying to wrap his head around Beard’s Backstory. Beard understands if Al doesn’t believe him, it’s a pretty crazy story. Then we remember that Beard’s talking to a soul bound to a suit of armor, so the idea that Beard is a Philosopher’s Stone isn’t that far fetched. They chat about being immortal, and thankfully Beard acknowledges the advantages of his form before settling on the fact that seeing everyone he knows and loves wither and perish sucks. Hey yeah, if you have a Philosopher's Stone body, did that affect Ed and Al’s development? Apparently not, Beard says he still has a human body. Unlike Uncle, who’s likened to “a leather bag”. He built a human body around himself and his gathered souls, so if they can destroy the body… Speaking of, the Nationwide TC! Beard looks over the TC and reverse-TC while Al says they can destroy the tunnel below Liore, but Beard shuts down the idea. Pride’s watching over the tunnel. But can they still try before nope we know the tunnel’s finished, and Beard is rather relaxed about the idea it’s complete. “Because it’s not yet time”? How do you know? [Beard]: “Look up, son. You’re too busy looking down when you need to look up.” Oh! I get it, it’s a constellation thing! That explains why the Xerxes King was talking about carving all the Crests before it was too late, the Nationwide TC needs the right positioning of the stars. Can’t do it until then.

Yes please follow along Al, look up to the sky, to… LETO! Bwahaha, Al thinks that Beard’s talking about Sun-God Leto. There we go, turns out Beard has converted to Letoism and plans on praying the Goths away. Or the Man in Central could indeed be waiting for the right star positions, that works too I guess. Oh hey, back to Bido in the pipes. Running? Oh shoot, looks like it was “Annoyed his possession abandoned him” Greed after all. Greed laughs about the chance to kill his boredom, Bido’s shocked to see the Ultimate Shield and hear the voice, yells at Greed for imitating Mister Greed. Wait, does Greed not recognize Bido? Greed boasts about wanting everything, Bido finishes his spiel about demanding the finer things in life. Greed asks who Bido is wait static? Ok, so Greed really doesn’t remember his past iteration? He lost his memories when Uncle reconsumed him? Bido’s struggling to reconcile the Mister Greed he knew with this new guy, while Greed demands Bido answer his questions. [Bido]: “It’s me! I’m your friend, Bido! You haven’t been gone from Dublith long enough to forget!” [Greed]: “Oh, you’re from Dublith! Ooohoho, now it makes sense!” [Bido]: “You remember m SHIT Greed just stabbed Bido! [Greed]: “Afraid not. You must have been buddies with the previous Greed.” Well this sucks, Bido’s trembling in pain and grief while Greed says they’ve never even met wait the static’s back and his arm is trembling and the static is becoming visions of Greed’s old crew. Is his memory returning? Hoo boy Ling’s calling Greed out for killing his old friend. Greed protests that Bido wasn’t his friend, that those memories belonged to the previous Greed. [Ling]: “Then why are you in so much pain?!” Ling’s threatening that if Greed doesn’t pull himself together that he’ll take control of the body again. Greeds gritting out that his old memories were purged by Uncle, that they aren’t part of him anymore- [Ling]: “No, you’re wrong Greed! It’s not that easy! They’ll always be a part of you! You can’t just erase them from your soul! They were the only part of you that you chose! Look at them! Can you not hear their souls crying out? You abandoned them, your real family! You threw them away like trash! Fool, you turned your back on something you wanted. You don’t deserve to call yourself Greed!” Clutching the still form of Bido, Greed screams. End Credits. Post-credit scene in Central at the Bradley Manor, Mama Bradley is suggesting a book to Selim. About an adventurer who travels the world- Bradley’s looked up and Mama Bradley grabbed Selim at the sound of rustling and footsteps. It’s Greed. And he’s not happy.

#wmtw #where my twin #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 44

[mijihun]

➟ a job badly done

TW: BLOOD, ASPHYXIATION, TORTURE

hyunjoon had fucked up his mission, he knew he had, so he supposed he should have seen this punishment coming. hydrus weren’t just going to let him get away with letting the weapons dealer he was supposed to be protected during the riots die. oh no, they were going to want to punish him for that misstep, and when it came to his gang that punishment came in the form of some good old corporal punishment.

the man in charge of dealing out this punishment was no one special. of course, he was a man who was in higher standing than hyunjoon was and a rather respected senior, but he wasn’t important. just another man who could take care of things just so someone even more important didn’t have to. and hyunjoon could tell that this guy wasn’t exactly thrilled to be tasked with the job of beating down on him. probably because he thought he had better things to be doing than using some teenager as a punching bag.

this man also happened to have a name, and that name was cleaver.

he had complained the whole time he trussed hyunjoon up so he couldn’t fight back - because what sort of punishment would it be if the victim was allowed to throw their own punches? “a waste of my time,” the words came out sharply as cleaver wrapped the tape on more time around hyunjoon’s wrists before taking a step back to admire his handiwork.

hyunjoon was currently standing in the middle of a rather dingy looking basement in some building he didn’t know, arms up above his head and wrists currently taped either side of a rusty old pipe bolted to the low ceiling. he was not all amused about it.

“this is just a waste of my talents,”  cleaver continued to lament, ignoring the dirty look hyunjoon was currently giving him, “i have better things to be doing than beating up some child.” but clearly the lamenting wasn’t good enough as he suddenly spun back towards his victim, swinging a fist right at him.

the first punch hit hard, right square in the stomach. hyunjoon felt the breath leave him, body buckling as much as the tape keeping him up would allow. but he was quick to regain his composure, letting out a strong breath through his nostrils. but he didn’t get to stand upright for very long before there was another punch and he buckled again, this time to the knuckles making some rather good contact with his ribs.

“if you have better things to be doing,” hyunjoon started, groaning slightly as he rolled his neck and regained himself, “then why don’t you fuck off and go do them?”

that particular quip was met with a hard punch to the face with enough force to head his head snapping backward.

hyunjoon saw stars, wetness starting to roll down his upper lip as his head lolled forward again. blood dripped over his lips and down his chin before starting to fall fro the bottom of his chin. and it had hurt and all, but he didn’t think he had been punched with enough force to break his nose. not yet, anyway.

“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?”  cleaver spoke again, flexing out the hand he just used to punch the daylights out of hyunjoon, “but cleverness isn’t going to make this any easier. i’m to beat you to a bloody pulp and then go on my merry way. of course, i have limits, i ain’t supposed to seriously maim or kill you, but there isn’t anyone here to stop me if you piss me off. so want my advice, cobra? keep that pretty mouth of yours shut if you want to keep your head attached to the rest of you.”

it was good advice, hyunjoon supposed and he clenched his jaw for a moment, managing to hold in the grunt as another fist connected with his torso. and then another one and each one stung more than the last as it seemed cleaver was very good at punching the exact same spot. by the end of all of this, hyunjoon was sure he was going to be painted black and blue. it would be a right pain to try and cover it all up for his next lecture.

this beating method went on for some time, by the time cleaver had to stop for a little break, hyunjoon was sore all over and he couldn’t feel his arms anymore. they were as slack as they could be against the bindings and he was quite sure all the blood and drained from them from being held up for so long. it was just making him more uncomfortable than he needed to be feeling.

blood was still dripping from his nose as he rested his head against the side of one of his arms, taking the moment to try and fight through the pain to stand up straight again. he narrowed his eyes. “what? so weak you have to take a break while beating me? seriously? no wonder you were lumped with this job.”

that seemed to piss cleaver off more than he was expecting. the other man was on him before hyunjoon could ever register it, a strong hand wrapping around his throat and squeezing the air out of him. cleaver was staring right at him, anger clearly burning in his eyes as he watched his squirming victim, though his grip didn’t loosen for a moment.

“you really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”  he growled out, fingers gripping a little tighter, “i was just going to stick with your shoulders and down, but now? now you've pissed me off and i’m going to have to bloody that pretty face of yours.”  and almost as soon as those words were spoken, a clenched fist made contact directly in the face.

hyunjoon’s head snapped back again, though there was still a hand around his throat choking him out. he couldn’t breathe, panic flaring in his chest as he practically ignored the pain, brain and lungs screaming at him as he pulled at the tape keeping his arms above his head. then there was another punch and the world was starting to spin. another and he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

finally, cleaver let his throat go and hyunjoon instantly started coughing and he doubled over.

blood splattered against the ground with his saliva, mouth gulping air back in, trying to coax it back down his throat. his whole mind was spinning, feet staggering as he tried to stand up properly again. and then a hand was grabbing the back of his head, pulling his head back to clever could look right into his bloodied and pale face.

the two just stared at each other for a moment before the older man huffed, dropping hyunjoon’s head and wipe the hand which had just been holding his hair on his shirt. “pathetic,” the words were spoken with a shaken head, “i don’t know why they gave you the job in the first place. you were bound to mess it up. you’re useless, it’ll be better for everyone if we just killed you and be done with it. i reckon the only reason you’re still alive is because of your parents, but trust me, if they were so well respected then there would be no reason keeping you alive.”

hyunjoon clenched his jaw again despite the pain, curling his hands into fists best he could. but he didn’t speak, just painfully breathing out through his nose as he lifted his head. the whole top half of his body was completely numb at this point and he was covered with blood coming from his nose and from his mouth, but he chose not to say anything. it was probably better that way. but the words had cut him, he knew them to be true, of course, but it still pissed him off.

cleaver just tutted, shaking his head before deciding this time to go with a kick.

the boot smashed into hyunjoon’s chest with a strength he hadn’t been expecting. a loud cry leaving his mouth, the kick delivering enough force that the tape keeping his wrists attached to the pipe finally ripped as he body was thrown backward. a cracking sound reached his ears as he was thrown backward, crumpling to the ground in a heap.

tears prickled his vision as hyunjoon held them back, curling up a little tighter on the ground as he wheezed. pulling his hands apart, one hand pressed lightly against his right side, a muffled cry into his arm as pain instantly shot through him. he had broken a rib before, so he knew what it felt like and this was undeniable. but it still hurt the same amount, each breath shaking him to the core as he just heard cleaver sighing as he stood over him.

“pathetic,” cleaver just reiterated as he crouched down, cocking his head as he stared at hyunjoon for a moment, “you really do amaze me sometimes, cobra.” but then the man stood up again, raising his wrist to check the silver watch which was strapped around it. “luckily for you, though, while i could string you back up - i do have plenty more tape - our time is up. so i’m just going to leave you to pick yourself up. but want my advice? just stay down, kid. you’re not cut out to be in this business, so go find some nice dark ditch, lie down in it and just die before you fuck up so much that you can’t be forgiven.”

and that was the last words cleaver said before he headed towards the steps out of the basement and hyunjoon heard the sound of his boots vanishing up them. finally, he was alone.

only then did hyunjoon attempt to try and sit up, a stranged cry leaving his mouth as he used a hand against the dirty floor to try and push upwards. the other was still pressed against his side, the first tears finally slipping from his eyes as he slowly pushed himself back to his feet. but he had the find the wall, using it as support as he wobbled slightly.

it was a lot of pain to move towards the stairs and climb them into the derelict house, using the wall to keep himself up the whole time. but as he approached the front door he finally pushed away from it, using his free hand to push it open before stumbling into the night.

now, where the fuck was he?

#➟ solo #➟ wc 1782 #(a follow up to his reward thread) #(it does not go well for hyunjoon)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 026: Obstacle Course Part 2 (Conclusion)

Previously on BnHA: The kids of class A busted their way through the sports festival obstacle course like the young gods-in-the-making they are. Everyone was like, whoa, these kids are kicking ass. Momo made a gun and I may have cried a little. Some girl from the support course macguyvered her way through with moon shoes and a utility belt. Fucking Deku tore through the entire thing carrying a giant metal plate and just whomping robots left and right and shimmying across the floating islands of Pandora like fucking Spider-Man. He then catapulted himself onto a bunch of mines in a fucking minefield and fucking surfed the resulting explosion and I’m fucking done you guys.

Today on BnHA: Deku nearly commits a murder but it nets him first place. Todoroki spits in the face of continuity. Everyone in class A advances to the second round of the festival. Midnight announces that round 2 will be a cavalry battle. Deku has a target painted on his back because no good deed ever goes unpunished.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 48 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.) 

oh my god look at these huge text boxes. are these all Deku?? this kid is fucking twacked out on something right now I swear

yeah I guess this is Deku’s POV from when he was like “RARRRRRRRR [BOOM]” from before

seriously this kid is out here channeling the Hulk or something

holy shit he actually dug up the mines in order to jump on them??

All Might what have you done. look what you’ve created

more like blasting shounen maniac

also I forgot Kacchan’s arm was frozen and I had to stare at it for a sec before my memory filled in the blanks there

so we’re all in agreement that Deku has actually gone crazy right?

“yup this is intense” totally fucking bananas

Kacchan has such an over the top wtf expression that for a moment I actually thought Deku had hit him in the head on the way down

he didn’t think about the landing. of course not. shounens never think about the landing

well maybe this guy can inadvertently help you out with that somehow

wow look at his face. Deku what have you done

now Todoroki’s making an ice path

by the way, so Todoroki apparently doesn’t need to physically touch whatever it is he’s freezing, then? because here he’s just stomping on the ground and it’s immediately turning to ice, but he’s wearing shoes. I can’t remember if he’s done this before, but I feel like up till now it’s always been his hands

in fact, I just went back and checked his intro in chapter 11 and it specifically said he freezes things with his right hand (left hand is the fire one). so I consider this panel a plot hole unless Horikoshi decides to come along and explain it later

(ETA: not only did they not explain it, they didn’t change it for the anime either. WHAT KIND OF GARBAGE IS THIS. I CAN’T BELIEVE THE ENTIRE SERIES IS RUINED JUST LIKE THAT OMG.)

Deku seems more worried about losing time on his landing than he is about, you know, landing badly and breaking every bone in his body. I guess once you’ve already done that a few times, you kind of become accustomed to it and it’s no big deal anymore

(ETA: let’s not talk any more about Deku not giving a shit about his own broken bones holy shit.)

why do shounen people always take such a long fucking time to fall

lol the other two are rushing past him while he’s slowly drifting into the frame upside-down

grab onto them and use them as your sled dogs!

holy fuck what is he doing lmao

this kid is really out here with his HEEERE’S JOHNNY face deadass about to commit murder live on camera in front of 100,000 people

oh thank god he didn’t actually hit them. though I feel like it wasn’t for lack of trying

he hit the ground again and of course, more land mines

I feel like he ended up murdering them anyway tbh

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TEACHING THOSE KIDS ERASER HEAD” lmao sob this chapter is epic

and EH is all “I didn’t even do anything they’re just like this”

Deku actually made it back first! holy shit. and all he had to do was go completely off the deep end and murder two of his classmates to do it

oh my god his mom is watching

I mean, of course she’s watching, but it only just occurred to me. is he actually going to use his quirk here at some point or what? and if he does, just what the hell is she going to make of that?

I hope he comes clean with her afterwards, honestly. I have faith in her ability to keep a secret that would put her child’s life in jeopardy otherwise

(ETA: Deku is a liar and a thief and his poor mom deserves better)

and speaking of that, scrolling back up to the panel above Izumama, there’s this other random guy watching Deku who seems to also recognize him

what’s this about exactly? a year ago would be right around the time of the Sludge Incident. does he remember him from that? or does he somehow know Deku from back in his middle school days?

(ETA: it’s the former, I overthought this)

actually there are a lot of people who went to school with Izuku and specifically knew him to not have a quirk, come to think. what are all of them going to think if he suddenly busts one out here in front of the entire country? I feel like that’s going to seem really fucking suspicious and raise a lot of questions

anyway, moving on here, it seems Tomura is watching too. what a creep

and his hands are gone, just like when he visited the school that day and (presumably) broke in

aww. Deku sought out All Might’s face in the crowd and he’s grinning at him and he looks so proud. he’s crying again sob. and All Might looks fucking ecstatic

now All Might is having an internal monologue about how so many modern heroes are in it for the fame and so they’re selfish, but Deku isn’t like that, and that’s why he chose him. and interestingly he says he thought that quality would be a potential weakness, but he’s happy to be proven wrong

“but you gotta stop crying all the time!” aww, let him be, he’s emotional, there’s nothing wrong with that. I was gonna add “and he’s still a kid”, but that implies that there’s anything wrong with an adult being emotional which isn’t the case either. I know he’s all about the whole “smiling through the pain” thing, but Deku’s not the type to keep his feelings so hidden, and honestly I think that’s also a strength rather than a weakness

people from the business course are discussing Deku’s draft stock now, and speculating on how they would market him

yeah All Might I kind of see what you mean here. it’s all about the PR, and the actual hero stuff has almost been taken out of the equation

there’s a panel explaining how the business course members don’t participate in the sports fest directly and instead they just walk around doing boring business things. I’m not at all interested in this but I am dutifully making a note of it

(ETA: though I would be interested if they did some more shit dealing with sudden fame and celebrity and marketing deals. it’s still ridiculous to me that a country with as huge an idol culture as Japan would not be attempting to do this with at least some of these U.A. kids.)

(ETA 2: finally in the latest chapter I read we at least had someone filming a commercial.)

Kacchan and Todoroki have arrived back at the stadium out of breath as losers. sorry losers

poor Todoroki. IN FRONT OF YOUR FAMOUS DAD AND EVERYTHING

Kacchan’s super pissed but what else is new. is your arm okay bud. also you probably could have blasted your way across that final part of the course similar to how Deku did, but you didn’t. you literally have only yourself to blame

oh wow, Ochako and Iida rounding out the top five! what a pleasant surprise

(ETA: yeah this misconception will be rectified shortly, so I’m leaving it)

Iida’s depressed because being fast is His Whole Thing and he still came in like fifth. honestly I feel like that does hurt him a little more than the rest, because if any heroes out there are on the lookout for a speedster, they’re probably going to be less taken with a guy that didn’t even manage to make the podium in the speed competition. but you still have the rest of the festival, Iida. and if all else fails, you’ll still have two more chances after this

Deku is literally hiding his face because Ochako came right up to him and started talking about how great he was

it was not close, Deku

now he’s saying he got lucky. that was part of it, sure, but dude you were a fucking beast out there. honestly it was scary

Momo made it in sixth! along with this piece of drifting garbage that seems to have gotten stuck to her somehow

I’m sorry you had to see this, everyone. Momo is brilliant, but I feel like she missed a golden opportunity to make another gun or something and solve our Mineta problem for good. they did say no rules, after all. any lawyer worth their salt should be able to work with that

oh wow, I thought Iida and Ochako were fourth and fifth, but apparently that Poison Ivy girl came in fourth! Ibara, huh? I like her a lot

and this Dia de Muertos guy came in fifth!!

MY GOD IIDA, SIXTH?? YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB

and Ochako is #16?? EVERYONE, WE’RE GONNA RIOT

class B seems to only have a few standouts, really. thank god tbh. it was hard enough trying to memorize the first twenty kids’ names

(ETA: for a brief moment it looked like this might not be true, but then it was true again lol)

can’t believe Kaminari’s all the way down at #24. what happened?

are there... two invisible kids here?

(ETA: this literally never came up again??!)

and Aoyama barely made it. the cutoff was at #42 for some reason. they could have easily set it at the much more normal number of 40, but they just liked you that much, Aoyama!

Midnight’s about to announce the second event, but she’s dragging it out so damn much and I can’t take it

“Cavalry Battle”! yay! what’s that

Tsuyu says they’re teaming up but imma need more deets

“participants will form, on their own, teams of two to four members each” okay I can already foresee a few problems here

-- and get into a horse and rider formation, oh my god

I LOVE IT

for a brief moment I was like “wow this is really tame compared to the first event.” but then I remembered that they all have powers and will presumably be trying to kill each other and I can see this getting really fucking violent actually

that said! I’m definitely here for it lol

damn she’s still going on. apparently each kid has been assigned a point value based on the results of the previous event. so that means Deku has the highest value I guess. well, he wanted to stand out

TEN MILLION POINTS wow. this seems a bit broken to me

Deku’s face is

pretty good

what kind of fucked up olympics punishes you for doing well though

ten million points, though. damn. and meanwhile that lucky s.o.b. Aoyama is only worth five

and wow, we’ve reached the end of volume three already! well that sure was fun

BONUS:

Mt. Lady again?

she’s ordering takoyaki

she’s trying to get it for free omg

it worked omg

that’s it. that’s the comic

wow

now there’s a second comic that seems almost identical to her first comic from an earlier volume. this accountant guy is complaining that she’s lost them so much money

she can apparently grow from her normal size up to about 67 and a half feet. and that’s it. nothing in between

aside from that slight bit of additional detail, this is literally the exact same comic strip from before. I want those twenty seconds of my life back damn it

#bnha #boku no hero academia #makeste reads bnha #can anyone tell me whether that second invisible kid ever shows up again? #there's some potential for laughs there even though we already have a 'kids with the same power' thing going on with Kimi and Tetsu #honestly it would make that gag even better #because they can't even have the 'we have the same power' thing be THEIR thing #poor kiddos #can't catch a damn break

[madamebaggio]

(Notes:OMG I AM SO ABSOLUTELY SORRY!

I had the worst case of writer's block of the year and I was unhappy and pretty miserable. I am kind of back now, trying to write more, so if you reado one of my other fanfics ("Kiss with a fist", "Those Stark Boys" or "If I close my eyes") know that I'm working on them as we speak.

Thank you so much for all the support and kind comments. You're all the best.

BTW... A lot of people keep asking me about the other characters of GoT and if they will show up here. They won't, guys. No Arya, no Jon, no Brienne, or anyone else for that matter. Sansa is alone in Camelot and that's part of the story, ok? Nobody else from GoT will show up in this story. (They might for the epilogue, but jury's still out for that one, but it's basically a cameo to close the story).

Chapter 5

“What do you mean?” Bedivere demanded.

“The magic in her blood is much stronger than I anticipated.” The Mage murmured, eyes still fixed on the fire. “To have this amount of power… Her bloodline must be extremely ancient, and they somehow were kept relatively pure…”

“Are you saying she can use magic?” Bill asked socked.

“No. Even if her ancestors practiced magic at some point, I think they left it many generations ago.” The Mage stared into the distance.

“Could she be a sorceress?” Bedivere wanted to know. 

The Mage shook her head. “This magic is dormant; she was never trained in the arts. However…” Now she finally looked at the others. “It is too powerful for it not to manifest in some way.”

“Manifest?” Rubio repeated, curious.

“Yes. Even if she is not trained, magic this intense finds a way to get out.” The mage explained. “She should have some peculiar talent. In cases like these, it normally is having visions of the future, healing powers or even talking to animals.”

“Someone would know if she had any of these gifts, no?” Bill commented.

Someone snorted. They all turned to find the women rolling their eyes at Bill.

“Something we missed, ladies?” Bedivere asked politely.

Ada, who was only a bit older than Arthur, but had helped raising him, gave Bedivere a flat look. “Someone would know? Has it occurred to you that, if she can do any of those things, she is very likely to keep very quiet about it?”

“Why?” Rubio was confused.

The women groaned in frustration. “Wet Stick, what happened to Daisy when she was accused of witchcraft last year, for no reason other than the fact she was a good healer?” Sigrid asked.

Wet Stick winced. “She was taken by the soldiers and we never saw her again.” He told the others.

“Women with ‘gifts’ are hardly ever well seen.” Ada told Bedivere. “Being a noble lady might give her some protection, but she would never tell people. I don’t believe Westeros is that different from here.”

“She is right.” The Mage called. “There is a chance she might not even know she has gifts, but if she does… She has no reason to tell people. Especially if she has a story as tragic as she supposedly does.”

“What do you think he will do to her?” Arthur spoke for the first time since it all had started.

His body was tense, his jaw locked. Bedivere and Bill traded looks, but refrained from commenting at that moment.

“He is going to sacrifice her.” The Mage spoke, full of conviction. “He would never use her for anything else; she’s perfect: noble blood, magic, virgin…”

“How do you know that last part?” Back Lack asked confused.

“The hair told me all I needed to know.” She informed him.

The man made a disgruntled face, making Wet Stick and Percival snort.

“This is easy to fix.” Bill suddenly said.

“How?” Rubio asked.

“If he needs a virgin sacrifice, and she is not a virgin anymore…”

He didn’t need to finish the thought, they’d all understood it.

“Yes.” Judith, another one of the girls, drawled. “Because it will be very simple to go to a noble lady and tell her she needs to sleep with someone for the sake of England.” She finished dryly.

“Because I expect that is what you’re suggesting right there, Bill.” Arthur said, his voice deadly cold.

Bill arched a brow. “I expect you know me well enough to be aware that it is, in fact, what I am suggesting.”

“Let us take a deep breath, mates.” Back Lack put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Ladies, what do you think we should do?”

“It might be a good time to just tell her the truth.” Ada offered. “If she feels you lot are hiding something from her, she might be more inclined to believe in the other one.”

“I agree.” Sarah, another of the girls nodded. “Get Maggie to tell her the truth, she might like us a bit more then.”

“What if she’s on his side already?” Arthur pointed out. “What if she doesn’t believe us?”

“We have to take the risk.” The Mage answered from her place. “We can’t afford to let him have her. If she won’t believe us… We will need to do something about it.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “So you’re suggesting we kill her if she doesn’t believe us.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s either her or England.” The Mage indicated simply. “Which one would you choose?”

He didn’t even need to answer that.

XxX

Sansa hadn’t slept after Arthur left; she hadn’t managed to even close her eyes. He’d scared her, badly. For all this time she’d been living in England, she’d tried to forget everything that happened to her in Westeros, she tried to convince herself it wasn’t her life anymore.

She shouldn’t have been so naïve. Again.

She didn’t question Vortigern motives, and she should have. By now she knew the King well enough to know he would never have brought her to Camelot if he didn’t have a plan for her. However, she chose to pretend he was just bored or something, and that he just wanted a companion for his daughter.

She had been willingly blind; Vortigern could get a thousand girls to keep Katia company without even walking far. He had no reason to need specifically her, he had no reason to trouble himself with bringing her all the way from King’s Landing.

Which meant he wanted something.

After her first year there, Sansa had started thinking Vortigern wanted to either marry her himself or marry her off to someone else. He was extremely protective of her, and many of the guards wouldn’t talk or even look at her. She thought he was saving her for some reason and the only logical one was marriage.

Right?

Now she was not so sure anymore. To be honest, since that damned day that Arthur came into her way she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

He’d destroyed her peace and he was still doing it.

For a man like him it was easy to say she just needed to fight back and be her own hero. He was raised to fight, and believe that because he could carry a sword the world was his for the taking. He grew up knowing his strength would be measured by what he could do with said sword, and that men would respect him if he was bigger and meaner than the others.

Sansa had been raised to be a wife and a mother. She heard a thousand times her kindness and graciousness should be her biggest assets, and that a woman should turn her face away from violence. She was never raised to be a fighter, she was supposed to have a family as soon as possible and care for that family. All the fighting should be left to the men.

He spoke like she was in this situation just because she wanted, as if it would be as simple as picking up a sword and she could go anywhere she wanted.

Men hardly ever understood.

“This is not fair!” She heard Katia protesting.

Sansa hurried down the stairs, only to find Mercia looking down at Katia. “It is what the King wishes, therefore, it shall happen.” He informed her.

“What happened?” Sansa asked, standing by Katia.

“My father wants us back in Camelot!” Katia cried, grabbing Sansa’s arm. “He heard about some commotion in Londinium and now he wants me to go back. This is not fair!” She insisted. “I was not there.”

“But Lady Sansa and Lady Maggie were.” Mercia turned his eyes to Sansa, and she felt the accusation on them. “Now, we cannot allow them to be in danger, can we?”

Sansa cleared her throat. “Lord Mercia, this is hardly necessary. Maybe we can stay a few more days, no more visits to…

“The King was clear.” He cut her, without any respect. “You are going back to Londinium now.”

Katia’s eyes welled in tears, then she stormed off to the bedroom she had been given.

Sansa turned to follow her, when Mercia’s voice stopped her. “Make sure she packs fast, Lady Sansa.”

Sansa had to control her expression as she nodded at him and followed Katia back to her room.

It was quite curious that, despite being older than Katia, Sansa was more mature. Katia very often behaved somewhat like a spoiled child, like she’d just done. Of course, Sansa understood she was upset -she hardly left Camelot and this trip was already short as it was -but she was old enough to know that tantrums just looked bad for her.

She consoled Katia for a few minutes, letting her cry and say how it wasn’t fair, then told her she would send someone to help her pack. Sansa left to her own chambers to start her own packing, when Maggie came in and closed the door after herself.

“Lady Maggie…” Sansa started carefully.

“I do not have much time.” Maggie said urgently. “I rather say this here, because I am not so sure if I can say it in Camelot without someone hearing and reporting back to the King. Here I feel a bit safer.”

That shut Sansa up.

“You were right.” Maggie admitted in a rush. “I took you to Londinium so you could meet Arthur. I swear that it was never my intention that you would get lost or scared; the riot we saw was not part of the plan. I am sorry for that.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Sansa wanted to know.

“They think Vortigern plans on sacrificing you.” Maggie told her directly.

“What?” Sansa was incredulous.

“Arthur asked for a lock of your hair, the Mage tested it. She believes he wants to sacrifice you for your bloodline.”

“This is preposterous!” Sansa snapped. “Sacrifice me? What type of person would…

“You have heard the whispers.” Maggie spoke firmly. “You know about the Tower and Vortigern’s desperation to finish it. You cannot say you think it is all madness.”

Sansa took a deep breath. “But why me?”

“Because of your lineage. I do not know the details.” Maggie admitted. “But they are sure this is what he wants.”

“So I have to believe in your word?” Sansa hissed at her.

“I know it is difficult, and you have no reason to believe me, Sansa, but I am being honest. If I wanted I could have said nothing. And I am taking a great risk now, telling you that I have contacts amongst the rebels. You could go straight to Vortigern and tell him all of this.”

Why those things kept happening to her? She did not want to be involved in this…

But then again… That was exactly what that prick had told her, wasn’t it? She couldn’t remain happily neutral, pretending there wasn’t a revolution happening out there, and that it could go either way at any given moment.

She would have to choose a side

“I have to pack, Lady Maggie. You should go.”

Maggie still opened her mouth, like she intended to say more, but then she just nodded at Sansa and left.

XxX

This time they couldn’t watch the party moving. Mercia had come to pick the princess up and carry her back to Camelot, and he’d brought guards along.

Besides, they didn’t really need to watch the whole parade, they knew where the princess was going, who she was with, and that Vortigern wasn’t anywhere near them.

“You’re quiet.” Back Lack commented from his place beside Arthur.

“Just thinking.” Arthur commented in a lower, tired voice.

“I know what you’re thinking about.” The other man snorted.

Arthur sighed. “Don’t start, Back Lack. You have no idea…”

“You got hooked by those pretty eyes, there’s nothing wrong with that. I know you better than anyone, I’m not blind.” Back Lack indicated as he got up. He put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Just remember: she belongs to him. Don’t do anything stupid.” He recommended, squeezing Arthur’s shoulder before leaving the man alone.

Arthur wouldn’t even ask why Back Lack had come to the conclusion that he had some type of interest in Lady Sansa. He was right, he knew Arthur better than anyone.

But on one thing he was wrong.

“She belongs to no one.”

XxX

Sansa was spiraling; she was panicking. What if they were right? What if Vortigern really intended to sacrifice her?

By all the Gods, how was this her life? Would she ever get just a bit of peace? How come she was always falling into the hands of crazy Kings that wanted to use her?

And what if Maggie was lying to her? How could she trust the other woman?

Why was all of this so complicated?

Maybe she’d grown less than she thought. Perhaps she still was that stupid little girl, the one that knew nothing and trusted all the wrong people.

“My Lady.” A servant knocked on her door. “The King wishes to see you.”

Sansa nodded to the man and got up. What could Vortigern want with her? They had occasional conversations from time to time, but she’d barely arrived back at Camelot.

She checked her appearance on the mirror than made her way to the King’s solar. Vortigern was there alone, sitting behind his massive desk.

“My King.” Sansa curtsied prettily.

“Lady Sansa, come closer.” He told her softly.

Sansa started to feel distinctively like prey; his eyes were fixed on her, cool and calculating. Vortigern was a good-looking man, but the more time she spent with him, the more he made her nervous in a way that was different from other men. Even when Sansa briefly thought he planned on marrying her, she’d never thought he actually wanted her; she was certain Vortigern didn’t see her like a woman at all. Sometimes, when he looked at her, Sansa felt a visceral fear.

She felt like prey.

Sacrifice.

Oh no! It was not the time to let those words -those absurd words -wreak havoc in her mind.

She walked up to his desk, unsure if she looked as nervous as she felt.

“I have talked to Lady Maggie.” Vortigern said when she was close enough. “About what happened in Londinium.”

“It was an unfortunate event.” Sansa spoke carefully.

“I am not happy about it.” He informed her. “You are my guest, I cannot have you in dangerous situations.”

“It was not something we could have predict, Your Majesty…”

“You are right.” He gave in too easily. “An even better reason to not leave the keep at all.”

She knew she was in a delicate situation now. “Of course, Your Majesty.” She conceded. “I truly apologize for any problem I may have brought. I do not wish to be ungrateful after everything you have done for me.” She lowered her head, eyes on the ground.

The silence stretched for a whole minute, until the King decided to break it. “I worry about you, Lady Sansa. I am just trying to keep you safe.”

“I know, My King.” She replied quietly.

“There is someone out there, trying to destroy me; the so called born-king. I cannot have you or Katia out there, where he can do something to both of you.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

She risked a look in his direction. He was looking intensely at her. “Have you ever seen him?”

She didn’t need to ask who he was talking about. “No, My King. I haven’t seen anyone.”

His mouth curled up on the right corner. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Sansa?”

“No, My King.”

He hummed under his breath. “Go rest. You had a long trip and I would like to see you for supper.”

“Yes, My King.” She curtsied.

She started leaving, then stopped. She shouldn’t… It was a bad idea, but…

“My King?” She turned back.

He had been watching her leaving. “Yes?”

“I know it is not my place to ask anything of you, considering how generous you have been all this time, but…” She bit her lower lip. “Well… I have always wished to marry and have my own family; and now I am older… I was wondering… Would you consider finding me a match?”

The room became so silent so suddenly that Sansa feared he could hear her heart beating inside her chest.

“Why are you asking this now, Lady Sansa?” He finally asked.

“I know it is not something to be decided lightly, and it might take you some time to consider it.” She replied carefully. “So I decided to ask you now, Your Majesty.”

Vortigern wasn’t blinking. “I do not know if I want to part from you so soon, Lady Sansa.” He finally replied. “You are a great company for my daughter and I have no plans of marrying her yet. Do you have someone you wish to marry?” The last part wasn’t so much a question, as it was demand for the truth.

“Not at this time, My King.” She answered. “I just wish…”

“You are still young.” He cut her. “I do not wish to see you married so soon. This conversation is done.”

“Yes, My King. I am sorry for bothering you.”

As Sansa hurried away from him she started questioning everything she thought she knew. Was this really a simple question of Vortigern not wanting to marry her now, or was there something else behind it?

Why was she suddenly starting to believe in a man she’d seen twice before?

And if he was right… What could she possibly do?

(Notes: So for this chapter I took in consideration something I saw on the internet and I'm almost sure it's actually official. Supposedly, G.R.R. Martin said that all the Stark children had the hability to warg, but Sansa lost Lady before she could discover this. The Starks descent from the First Men, so I'm basically using all of that as justification for Sansa's magic blood. As the Mage said, she isn't a sorceress and she isn't going to become one, it's just a heritage she has.

BTW I have just finished this and immediately posted it, so I can only imagine the mistakes there... Let me know if something is too terrible.

Let me know your feelings!

Cheers)

#fanfic #madame baggio #Sansa Stark #Arthur Pendragon #Sansa x Arthur #game of thrones #king arthur legend of the sword #CrossOver #crackship #chapter 5 #gifs not mine #i wont believe in songs

[catbowserauthor]

Next Part of my Lost TMNT story

And here we have the third chapter...

EDIT: Chapter One: http://ulisabarbic-blog.tumblr.com/post/176470662623/lost-tmnt-story-of-mine

Chapter Two: http://ulisabarbic-blog.tumblr.com/post/176501947253/more-of-my-lost-tmnt-story

  Chapter Three

        Eyes tightly shut, Splinter’s form reflected more than anything else how deeply disturbed he was. He shook, his body trembled and sweat coated the whole of his face. The issue with visions however, always remained that they were vague. They never gave you a clear picture. More than anything else, they could alarm you to the type of emotional situation you would soon be faced with but not the specific details you may encounter. So  far, all Splinter’s vision had revealed for him had been dozens of different emotions: fear, anger, worry, hopelessness.

            That was perhaps the most frightening.

            He had learned over time that hope was the most precious thing that one person could possibly possess. It would lead one through a lightless tunnel and allow them to emerge on the other side victorious. It was difficult to take away but when it was accomplished, failure and loss followed swiftly. He did not like the fact that this was the emotion he was sensing the most. That and fear. Lots and lots of fear. Given that he had been raised among a fighting family, he was well accustomed to fear. He grew up with it and it pretty much dictated the way he ran much of his life. He had raised his sons to accept and respect the emotion.

            Yet even with that type of background, he was not accustomed to this level of the emotion.

            Eyes flying open, the old sensei gasped for air a moment, a hand to his chest. His entire body felt cold, like he had been doused with ice water. He blinked a moment, realizing he was still in his home, he could hear his oldest son Leonardo in the training room, perfecting his katas. Donatello was working hard in the laboratory; he could smell the scent of oil and mechanical grease. The typing of buttons and yelling from the living room told him that Michelangelo and Raphael were settling one of their video game duels again. It gave a sense of relief to his older heart to know they were all safe.

            All the same, the presence of the vision was enough to make him want to delve deeper and learn more. Despite it causing him pain and worry, he closed his eyes once more and focused on that dark premonition.

OOO

            Halfway through his latest kata, Leonardo was broken from his concentration by the rapid beeping of the turtle com on his waist. Blinking, he was rightly surprised. All  three of his brothers and his sensei were accounted for which meant it had to be either April or Zach. They had been working together for the majority of the summer, she had been kind enough to let Zach come on camera with her a few times and he had waved to them every single time. Even so, a great a majority of their news reports had been limited to things like business openings or, in the past week, a handful of riots. It had actually been pretty boring lately.

            So, he was not really sure what he was going to see when he flipped open his turtle com but it was not what he got.

            Zach’s face peered back at him, covered in vomit, skin pale and sweaty and shaking like he was in some kind of Artic storm. Leonardo could hear banging and groaning in the background.

            “Zach, what’s wrong?”

The boy’s voice answered him with a flurry of sentences, some coherent and some not but all of them flowed together as the boy sobbed out his answer as tears erupted from his eyes: “I don’twannadie,Idon’twannadie. April’s hurt and…Freddy…Freddy…dead! He’s dead, theyatehimtheyatehim!”

            Leonardo caught some of it but not all of it. He caught something about April being hurt and someone dying but the rest was all a blur of a child’s terrified sobbing. He took a breath to keep himself calm as all kinds of scenarios flooded his mind. What could possibly be going on that got Zach this frightened? More so, what could have frightened him so much that he was unashamed to show it? Zach always tried to put up a hard face to the turtles, Leonardo and the others knew that all too well and it had gotten them into trouble on more than one occasion. So, for the child to call him now, sobbing, in hysterics and unable to stay focused on one topic was unnerving at the highest degree.

            “Whoa, whoa, Zach, calm down.” That was the first step, he reasoned, calm the boy down. He would get loads more information if the boy was not in shock and screaming and crying. He tried to keep his voice level and calm, it seemed to usually work on nearly everyone he spoke with. He was known for having a very soothing attitude and it was something he attempted to utilize here by locking his eyes with Zach’s. However, as he did that, he became acutely aware that it was not doing any good. The boy’s eyes were wild. He was beyond calming. Okay, step two: “Zach, where are you?”

“I’mgonnadieI’mgonnadieI’mgonnadieIdon’twannadieIdon’twannadieIdon’twannadie!!!”

By the end of that mess of syllables, Leonardo had only managed to translate that the boy was scared of dying which meant whatever threat he was facing was still close. He had no other information but judging from the banging and Zach’s face, it was very dire situation indeed. So, given that he could get no information from the boy, he would have rely on Donatello’s tracker. Thank God he had thought to put those in. It had come in handy more times than he could count and now, it looked like they needed it badly. “Okay, just stay put, Zach, okay?” Leonardo was jogging from the training hall, heading for his Master’s room even as he spoke. “Stay put, Zach” he tried desperately to put a strong emphasis on that phrase. The worst thing that could happen now would be an emotionally torn child wandering around, “We’re coming.” He attempted to reassure his young friend even as his feet slammed against the lair floor.

“I’mgonnadie.”

“Iie!” Leonardo cut in then blinked, realizing he had switched to Japanese for a moment. Taking a swallow of breath, he amended, “No, no you’re not Zach. It’s going to be alright—“

“Idon’twannadieIdon’twannadieIdon’twannadie!”

That was easily the most horrible thing Leonardo had ever heard. He had finally managed to catch what his young friend was saying and hearing your young friend, one you looked upon as a younger brother, pleading over and over that he didn’t want to die cut into his heart more deeply than he thought anything was capable of doing. He wanted to just reach through the turtle com, pull him to his chest and hold him tightly, as he swung his katana to disintegrate whatever dared cause him such fear. However, he did not have that option, so instead, he focused on getting to his brothers and sensei so they could end this.

“Zach, listen to me. Can you hear—“

“I’mgonnadieI’mgonnadieI’mgonnadie!”

“Zach!” Leonardo hated to raise his voice, especially since the boy was obviously terrified but he needed to get his attention, he needed him to focus. “Zach, you need to take some breaths. Remember the meditation training Master Splinter taught you! Use it!”

“Don’twanndiedon’twannadiedon’twannadie!Mommy!Daddy!Idon’twannadie!”

It was never good when people started calling for their parents.

Leonardo sped up.

OOO

“Score! I smoked you, dude! For the fourth time!”

Raphael threw down his controller in frustration and scowled at his bragging little brother. “Only because you used every cheat code in the book…and some that aren’t in the book.”

Michelangelo just beamed widely “Aw, do I sense a sore loser? You’re just mad you now owe me…” he pretended to count out on his left hand, “Five pizzas…plus a soda.”

Raphael was in the middle of a snappy comeback when the door opened and Donatello emerged from his lab, covered in oil and rust. “Good news guys! I got that dimensional portal working.”

Without looking up from his discussion with his other brother, Raphael quirked “Now, is this work-work or Donatello-work?”

Flushing a faint color of anger, Donatello responded “I’ll have you know it can access, without problem, almost any dimension now!”

Michelangelo turned “Whoa! So, could you like tune into any dimension?” at the exact time that Raphael joked, “He said no problem, which means everything’ll go wrong.”

Donatello beamed at his youngest brother, choosing to ignore his other sibling, glad to see some enthusiasm, “Exactly. No more needing a fancy lab to go after Shredder, we can get to him right from my lab.”

“All Expenses Paid Shell Kicking, now available in Delivery to your own home” Raphael snorted at his brother, though he was glad to see him finally get out of that stupid lab. He was beginning to think he was going to set up camp in that stupid room. Granted, having a dimensional portal was useful and helpful but as far as he was concerned, it was most costly than it was worth, especially given the amount of times that dumb portal broke down but he had to admit, it was nice to see Donatello in a good mood instead of frustrated as all hell.

Plus if the portal worked, it meant the means of communication with Dimension X were back up which meant…

He leaned over and elbowed his youngest sibling in the ribs, grinning from ear to ear, “Looks like you and your girl can move beyond pen pals then, eh?”

Blushing a dark red, which looked odd against his green skin, Michelangelo responded “I..I dunno what you’re talking about Dude…Kala and I are just…”

Donatello leaned over the couch, laughing “If you say, just friends, Michelangelo, just remember Yama-sama pulls out the tongues of liars.” He and Raphael gave one another a high three as their youngest brother pushed himself off the ground, scowling “Totally uncool, Dude.”

Raphael stood and pulled Michelangelo into a noogie, saying “Hey, if we ever stop picking on you, I’m pretty sure we lose the Big Brother card.”

Pulling himself free of his sibling, Michelangelo gave him a playful shove back, saying “I’m in the mood for a victory pizza, maybe something with chocolate and marshmallows.”

Donatello shook his head but all their plans were crushed when the door to the left and the door to the right both opened at the same time and Leonardo charged in from the right, Splinter from the left.

“Something’s wrong!” they both cried at once.

Raphael blinked, looked from one to another. “There an echo in here?” Leonardo gave his brother a scowl but then focused on his father,

“Master, you-“

“Yes, my son. Something horrible is happening.” The elder ninja master clasped his hands close together, trying to erase the horrific emotions that had shot through his mind and heart for the last three hours. He had hoped them to dispense or become less intense but if anything, they were worse. Seeing Leonardo charge in, in a near panic only confirmed his fears. “I do not know the cause or what exactly is going on, but something horrible is happening. Something beyond what you have faced before.”

Leonardo nodded “We have to go, Zach called me and said April’s hurt and he was panicking, crying, and slurring his words, the whole mess.” Leonardo frowned as his brother grasped their weapons and added “I could hear something in the background but I couldn’t make it out. Could be anything, but sounded like banging or moaning.”

Michelangelo’s entire body posture changed. He stood more upright, his eyes narrowed and he eyed his elder brother “Where is he? Where’s April?”

Diverting his gaze to Donatello, Leonardo commanded, “I need you to track his turtle com, Donatello. He can’t calm down enough to give me an answer.”

“On it.” The joking manner had left the room as Donatello wiped out his own turtle com and started pressing button after button. They had gotten accustomed to this over time, especially with the many kidnap attempts on April so tracing a turtle com signal had become second nature. He had upped their power especially because of this reason.

Ignoring his brother’s progress, Michelangelo took out his own com and called up his young friend, “Zach, hey, little amigo, you there?”

A moment later, he heard Zach’s voice and then saw a pale face, shaking and stuttering “I’mgonnadieI’mgonnadieI’mgonnadie!”

Panic set into the young turtle’s heart, made worse by every word that broke from Zach’s throat. He took off for the garage, with his brothers on his tail. Donatello took up the far end and Master Splinter called after them “Go with care my sons. If they are injured, bring them here!” There was so much intensity and desperation in those words, in particular the last line. It caused enough pause that Donatello froze, turned.

Surprised, he tried, “But Sensei…” He was no doctor. Oh, he could treat minor wounds but major wounds, he was always nervous when he had to do more than stitch a minor injury on his brothers. He could not imagine the types of wounds they might be faced with in this situation. Especially with how panicked Zach sounded, it was not a minor matter. Who knew what kind of injuries they would be dealing with? He might do more harm than good. In fact, he was SURE he would do more harm than good.

“There is no time right now, my son. But you MUST bring them back here.” Splinter’s words were fierce and determined. They rang like a bell on a silent night so Donatello simply nodded

“Yes, Sensei.”

“Now go, with haste!”

Taking off down the hall and into the garage, he let out a sigh of relief as his com found its target “I’ve got it guys, the corner of Eastman and Laird!”

Piling into the van, Michelangelo was still trying to talk Zach down, “Zach…Zach? Zach?”

Nothing. The turtle com was blank, no face but it had clattered to the ground and they recognized all too well the red of blood that splattered the screen. Michelangelo’s entire world turned red as his blood ran cold. His speed easily tripled as he darted to the van, his siblings close behind him. He ignored their like charge. Thousands of horrible things were rushing through his mind. What could cause that much blood? Why wasn’t Zach answering anymore? As they pulled open the door to van, Michelangelo pushed past his elder brothers and slammed himself into the driver’s seat. The other three ran in through the back, Leonardo ahead. He rarely saw the type of look in his youngest brother’s eyes that he saw now and that made him nervous. Out of all of them, it was no secret that Michelangelo was the best with kids and that he was the closest with Zach…or that he was easily the most emotional of the four. He had all kinds of things rushing through his mind, he could only imagine the emotional level his sibling was on and the idea of an emotionally charged person behind a wheel made him more than a little uneasy. “Michelangelo, you’re too upset right now, let me—“

Shooting his brother a death glare that would have made Shredder run in fear, an army retreat and Sensei go silent, Michelangelo spat out his response like each word was poison, toxin dripping from his eyes and tone, “Urusai yo! Watashi wa unten, Leonardo! SUWARINASAI! DAMARINASAI!” His voice echoed like the voice of Kami-sama himself by the last statement. His eyes burned like fire and his hands gripped the wheels intensely, the knuckles burned to a light lime green color through his deeper green skin. Michelangelo could be dangerous, and very dangerous at that, if given the right motivation. It was something only his brothers and sensei knew of and even they only saw it on occasion. Each and every time, it was frightening.

It was petrifying to see that reflected in their youngest sibling’s face now.

It was also rare for any of the turtles to use Japanese frequently though they were all four fluent in it, given their Master’s background. It had become an emotional sign, a signal that there was a great deal of emotional weight in the situation. Leonardo was known to slip into it on occasion, Raphael and Donatello would let one or two word phrases slip that Sensei no doubt would have turned red with fury if he knew they used them. As for the baby of the family, he was only known to use an occasional “Surgoi!” if something exciting was going on or occasionally use Onii-chan if he needed or wanted a favor. If he wanted Leonardo’s help with something, he was known to use Ani-ue even if he knew, as Leonardo had explained to him, that such a term had not been used since the Middle Ages. All the same, regardless of who he used them with, he used them sparingly and as a result, they worked almost one hundred percent of the time. But to hear such caustic commands emerge from his throat was enough to stun all three of them for several minutes.

The van went dead silent until Raphael reached over and pushed Leonardo into the passenger seat “You heard the turtle. Sit down and shut up!”

No sooner had he said that, then Michelangelo pushed his foot all the way down to the floor and the van jumped from 0 to about 65 in less than four seconds, all courtesy of Donatello’s engineering feats. Donatello flew back to the back of the van and Raphael hit the ground. The only two that didn’t move were Leonardo and Michelangelo and that was because they were seated. The needle kept climbing, stopping at 115 as Michelangelo pressed the pedal completely horizontal, flat against the ground. The needle peeked at the very edge of the speedometer, firmly seated there as its driver did not relent in the slightest on his accelerator pressure. Donatello managed to get to his feet as they rounded a corner with a turn that should not have been possible. He could smell the tires burning on the cement ground.

“Hamato Michelangelo!” It was unsure if that was Donatello, Raphael, Leonardo or all three. It was rare for them to ever use his full name. That was usually a Sensei only privilege, “Slow down! You still have the grate up ahea—“

“SHUT UP!” He spat and pulled the nearest lever, bringing up their large laser cannon and fired it, full force. The grate exploded outward, with the van’s squealing wheels less than a second behind as they sped towards downtown. Raphael managed to grasp hold of the back of his brother’s seat and Leonardo reached up and grasped his sibling’s wrist to make sure he stayed upright. If the situation had been any less serious, Raphael would have made a sarcastic bite towards his younger brother’s driving skills but you could have cut the tension in the air it was so thick. That aside, despite his rather nonchalant outward appearance, Raphael’s mind was doing all kinds of flips as well. He may have found Zach annoying at times but he didn’t want anything happening to him. They had all kind of acquired the brotherly protective streak over the young boy, though Michelangelo more so than any of the others.

Then, there was April. She was the adult in the situation. Why had she not called them? Zach had said she was hurt but they hadn’t gotten any more information from him. If she was hurt enough that she was not able to call them, if she was hurt enough….that had been blood that had clouded Zach’s view screen and while it hadn’t been dark red, thank God (Sensei called it  the ‘death red.’) there HAD been a LOT of it. When they had been trained as children, he had been quick to teach them the warning signs, made them memorize the most vital of signs and what to do for them for the worst of the worst injuries. Knowing them and having to use them was something else altogether. Raphael felt his breath catch at the possibility that their oldest friend may well bleed to death before they got there. He tried to stay positive but…that had been a lot of blood…too much…

Maybe it was a good thing his emotional driven brother was driving…

OOO

Blinking, Raphael climbed out of the van and looked around, joining his siblings. It didn’t take long for them to find the Channel Six van. The entire place was deserted and in New York, that was disturbing. It would have been a lot more comforting if they had stumbled onto a scene of hysteria, fights and shouts. That would have been normal and easy to deal with. Well, okay, maybe not EASY but it would have been something familiar. He liked familiar, he liked known. He liked evils that he had dealt with before. He knew what to expect, how to react. It made him uneasy to not know what he was walking into. His nerves were put up on edge and the dark, eerie silence of a normally busy intersection just added anxiety to his fire.

Michelangelo had started to run ahead but Leonardo had been quick to pull him back and had whispered something harsh to him in Japanese. Though he did not catch the whole of their conversation, the red banded turtle, did hear ‘gomen ne’ and ‘onii-san’ from his youngest brother and it was rare for Michelangelo to use such an honorable suffix with his brothers outside of a teasing mode, likewise, he rarely apologized in Japanese. He felt more comfortable in English. Leonardo’s tone had been harsh as well and Raphael had caught the title of ‘little brother’ which again, was rare. Leonardo did not like lessening his siblings to titles. He did not catch all the words in-between but, well, he was willing to bet his eldest brother had said something along the lines of ‘don’t push me right now’ or maybe even, ‘that’s an order.’

Raphael had not caught it but whatever had been said, but as his youngest brother started forward again, Leonardo pulled him back and hissed,

“Wakarimasu-ka?” his tone was heavy and dark as he requested clarification that his youngest sibling understood.

“Wakatta, ‘Nii-san, Wakatta!” Michelangelo insisted and his older brother released him.

Perhaps it was best he didn’t know.

Looking around, he shuddered involuntarily “When did this turn into an episode of ‘The Twilight Zone’?” he spoke, mainly just to break the silence. Leonardo shushed him and motioned them forward, silent and still. For all their playfulness when the events took this dark a turn, they fell back on the harsh and dark nature of their ninja training: the ability to become one with the shadow, to move within it. The four of them crept forward with the grace and dignity of a jungle cat and just as silent.

The area around the Channel Six van was decorated with broken equipment, broken glass and blood. There was…a lot of blood. It was the death red. Raphael closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the obvious conclusion. If that was April’s blood, it did not matter how fast they had arrived or what kind of medical magic Donatello possessed. You could not undo a bleed-out. He stepped forward gingerly, trying to avoid getting the liquid on his feet, not out of disgust necessarily (Splinter had made sure they were well accustomed to injury and blood quite early on) but out of the idea that it might have been his dear friend’s.

Rounding the back of the van, Leonardo stopped short, his brothers slamming into him. Michelangelo looked around his sibling and paled significantly. His two other brothers followed suit.

Though he kept his voice to a whisper, Leonardo swore, “Nande kuso…”

Lying at the floor of the van, just inches from the doors, was what was left of a corpse. They recognized some of the remains of the clothes; it was a cameraman. There was not a lot left to him though. They could make out the skull and it was a clean white, but not from age. It looked like a chicken bone when it had been scrapped and ripped of all its flesh. Some remains of skin and muscle clung to the left arm, but that was minimal. The best way to describe it was as if someone had thrown a body into a pit of piranha. There was little to no skin (or ANYTHING) but judging from the pool of blood he was lying in, he had been torn apart. The right arm bones were a good five feet away and they had bite marks all over them, like when a dog gnawed on a bone too hard to break. Except these were not canine bite marks.

Raphael, always being the blunt one, stated what was on everyone’s minds, “Shimatta…”

Michelangelo eyed his siblings “Dudes, we need to get them and get out of here!”

Donatello nodded, his eyes still focused on the remains of the camera man. The blood was still fresh. Hell, it was still warm! This couldn’t have happened more than…fifteen minutes ago. But, what in God’s name could reduce a healthy human male to literally skin and bones in that short amount of time? Was it still here? Still stalking about? Donatello put one hand on his bo, tightly, as his other hand clasped at his ninja stars tucked into his belt, though he never lessened his grip on his first aid kit.

Creeping around the lost camera man, Leonardo banged once on the van, “Zach? April?” Raphael tugged on the van doors and they held fast though they opened maybe a half inch or two. He could smell blood, sweat, urine and tears. As soon as the doors crept open though,

Oh, that scream would haunt them forever.

OOO

Blinking, Zach’s eyes opened to a cold, uninviting floor that he recognized all too soon as the floor of the Channel Six van. Sitting up was a difficult task. His hearing and sight was fussy and he felt cold, through his entire body. He saw Miss O’Neil still on the floor. She hadn’t woken up. How long had it been? She didn’t look like she had slowed at all. He was unable to help her and now…, yes, yes he was surer than ever that she had died. He was all alone. No one was going to help him. They had killed poor Freddy…eaten him. Eaten him alive.

Zach buried his face into his hands, crept to the very back of the van, pressing into the multitude of wires and panels. He started to rock back and forth, chewing on his left thumb. He wished more than anything else that he was at home right now. He wanted his mother, he wanted his father. He would even take Walt. He wanted anyone, anybody to just take him away from all of this. He wanted away from all of this. The look and sight of Miss O’Neil was starting to make him sick and he could smell the…well, what had happened outside the van had a smell and that just made the visions replay, replay, replay. Tears began down his face again and he sniffled as his nose began to run. Wiping his face with back of his arm, mucus was dragged across his nose and mouth.

He heaved again, though he had emptied the contents of his stomach earlier. The dried results of it were present all over him. “Mommy! Mommy!” He had switched from Mommy to Mama not even two years ago but right now, he didn’t care. He wanted her here! “Mommy!” Truthfully, she probably would have been more helpless than him but at the moment, he found himself calling for anyone. His father, his mother, his brother, the turtles, April (even though she was right next to him) and yes, his friends the turtles. Honestly, he probably called for them the most.

Banging. Jerking his head up, Zach’s heart beat doubled and then tripled. He heard it, all over again. They had come back! They had come for him and Miss O’Neil! They were gonna die! Just, just like Freddy had! Torn apart, ripped to pieces. Oh, GodohGodohGod! Tears erupted anew and Zach tried to make himself as small as possible, pulling the wires and cords down in a frenzy, covering his body with them. They were heavy and made it hard to breathe but maybe, maybe that would be too much trouble for these monsters! If he could just become tiny and disappear, disappear…

The doors cracked open.

Zach screamed, screamed like he never remembered screaming before. It seemed to cut loose directly from his heart, and poured out of his mouth like some kind of endless pool, constantly being fed. All his fear, all his horror, all his anticipation was embodied in that one single scream and he kept screaming. He could hear the doors moving, he saw something reach through and those strings, those simple lines that were keeping him safe… severed. Nononononono! He was gonna die!

Grabbing his knapsack, Zach grasped the nearest thing, his wallet, then his Junior Detective kit and he chucked it as the doors were crashed inward. He never stopped screaming, even though his throat was starting to protest. The monsters were here, they were here, they were here!

When one of them reached out for him, Zach swung his fist. He kicked, he spat, he bit and he bit hard.

OOO

“Ah, damn it! Zach, it’s us!”

Raphael’s words did not seem to reach the young boy at all. He screamed, his eyes were wide and frantic. He kicked at the turtle with all his strength and for such a small boy, that was a surprising amount of force. Michelangelo moved from the entry way, followed by Leonardo and Donatello and tried to console his younger friend. He had never seen Zach really frightened before, not like this. He didn’t even look like he had heard Raphael and the guy was right next to him! What had happened to his little amigo?

“Hey, Zach, it’s us! The boys in green, the good guys!” Michelangelo dropped next to his brother, trying to reach their hysterical little friend. Zach, if anything, became more upset and howled again, clamping down on Raphael’s hand again with his teeth even as he tried to kick out with his legs. Michelangelo grasped hold of his ankles and pinned them to the ground as his brother pried his hand loose. Zach screamed even louder, not even words now, just screams. It was horrible to hear, like witnessing an animal dragged to its slaughter.

“Ayie! Fearless!” Raphael called to his blue clad sibling, “A little help over here?”

Leonardo sprung over, slicing the wires with his sword. Grasping Raphael by the shoulder and Michelangelo by the arm, he pulled them both back, away from the wall. This gave them a little more room. Without saying a word, he grasped Zach’s legs, releasing Michelangelo of it and the younger turtle instantly moved to support the boy’s head. Last thing they needed was him splitting his head open on the hard floor. The noise was deafening and all Michelangelo could think of was:

“This is gonna call whatever the hell did this back!” he screeched to his older brothers. He was scared; he was not ashamed to admit it. He was scared for Zach, scared if they were in time to save April, scared if whatever this thing was still lurked close and he was also reeking of anger and a desire for vengeance. The multitude of emotions made him see red and he had to restrain his strength. Focus on little Zach, he coached himself. Keep him safe. You know he’s alright. Keep him safe.

“Agreed, we don’t have time for this.” Leonardo turned to his other brother, “Donatello—“

“Cook up something, boy genius!” Raphael demanded, pinning Zach to the ground with his own weight across the chest. He wasn’t trying to crush the kid but damn it, the kid had to stop kicking and biting. Especially him! Apparently, he must have looked like a steak or something with all the kid’s teeth marks being pinned into his skin. It didn’t hurt, not a lot anyway. His skin was naturally tougher than most but the state of panic Zach was in was the most unnerving thing he had seen in a long time and coming from a mutated turtle who frequently fought for the safety of Earth, that was saying something.

Already digging through his kit, Donatello eyed the small boy, his eyes awash with pity. But his face was all business and it came out in his voice. “Roll him onto his side.”

“Got any ideas how to do that?” Raphael spat, though he was already working with Leonardo to do just that. Michelangelo kept still, using his own body as a barrier between Zach and the floor of the van. Not to mention all the equipment around them. It was already feeling claustrophobic and this was probably going to lead to some bruises later on but the orange dressed turtle kept his eyes constantly locked with Zach’s and he was still trying to talk to him, reminding him that they were ‘the good guys, remember?’ Raphael didn’t know how much good that was doing but he was not about to discount it. Damn it, how was a puny little kid this strong? Once he and Leo got a good grip, keeping him still wasn’t a problem but he was surprised how much strength it was taking. Did adrenaline really give you this much of a boost? He was afraid he’d hurt Zach if he put any more strength into his hold.

Sticking two capped syringes into his mouth and one in his hand, Donatello crawled over to his siblings and their struggle, though by now Leonardo and Raphael had a good handle on it. He knew it was difficult to restrain their strength though and that was what they had to do. Grasping hold of the jean waistband of their younger friend, he mumbled an apology to the boy and wriggled the boy’s slacks down, just enough to expose some of the buttock. Swiping an alcohol swab over a section of skin, he uncapped the syringe in his hands and with a “Sorry, kiddo,” though his clenched teeth, he poked the needle point into the skin and pushed the medication in. Then without waiting, he repeated it with the two he carried in his mouth. By the third injection, Zach seemed to have some recognition of reality, at least minimally, because he yelped in pain. Donatello rubbed the injection site a moment, saying, “Sorry, kiddo,” again.

At first, it didn’t seem to do much but after about another five minutes, the boy’s kicking was lessening in intensity. He was still struggling but it was lessening. Leonardo locked eyes with Michelangelo and the younger one nodded and stroked Zach’s blond hair. “Hey, little amigo? It’s us, it’s the good guys.” He repeated for about the tenth time. This time though, recognition seemed to take place and Zach lifted his head, seeming to realize who was with him. His kicking stopped entirely and he stopped throwing punches.

Raphael and Leonardo both immediately released their hold. Zach turned, slightly so he was cradled in Michelangelo’s lap. He blinked a few times, then asked, “Leonardo? Michelangelo? Raphael? Donatello?” Were they here? He was not hallucinating? Help was here? He wasn’t going to be ripped apart? Relief like a fog swept over his heart and despite any pride, tears came to his eyes, as his voice choked, “Guys, you’re here. Leonardo…Michelangelo, Donatello, Raphael…” By the last name, his voice was slurring. But he had to say them again. To make it real to himself.

 Leonardo smiled at their younger friend, despite the intensity of the situation. Michelangelo felt a sense of relief wash over him and Raphael sat back, rubbing his wrists. Despite his usual gruff attitude, even he managed a smile at the realization that their little friend was finally keyed into reality.

 “You’rehere?” Zach managed, though his eyes were definitely clouding. It was hard to focus on anything but yes, he recognized their voices now. He was more sure than ever that they were here but he had to know. He had to be certain. He didn’t want this to be a dream. Help had come. He wasn’;t going to…go like Freddy did. Freddy. Oh, God, Freddy…

Leonardo gave him a gentle punch to the cheek, more like a push which seemed to snap him from those thoughts and said, “I told you we were on our way, Zach.”

Despite his usual desire to appear tough, to appear strong, to be every bit as brave as they were, Zach was, above all other things, a little boy. A boy that had just turned ten and had seen things that no child should have to see. He had faced villains with the turtles before but he had never been exposed to so much carnage, so much fear of death before. He could still smell that horrible iron stench of spilled blood on top of rotting flesh, he could still hear Freddy’s screams, his futile cries for mercy.

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes, higher and higher until, despite his desperate attempts to stop them, to slow them, they spilled down his cheeks. He bit his lower lip so hard that blood seeped out. “You…came…” His voice finally cracked at the end.

Michelangelo being both the closest in proximity and in relationship to the boy took him into a tight embrace. Unlike his brothers, Michelangelo had never been one to shy away from showing affection, at least not too much. His brothers had learned a long time ago that the best way to calm him was with an embrace so he utilized that here. It was odd to be playing the role of ‘big brother’ but he couldn’t stand the sight of Zach so scared. It tore his heart open. He wanted to take all that pain onto his own heart. But, not being able to do that, he settled for pulling the boy into his plastron and stroking his hair, “Course we came, amigo. Nothin’s gonna get you, little buddy.”

Raphael knelt, putting a hand on Zach’s shoulder, “Part of the hero contract, kiddo—all fellow turtles get top billing on the rescue list.”

The human boy managed a small smile and wiped his face with the back of his hand though he still shook like a leaf; Donatello stood, “We need to move though.”

Nodding, the leader stated, “Right, let’s go.”

Zach tried to stand, not about to be more embarrassed than he already was but swayed instantly. Michelangelo grasped him by the shoulders. “Easy, compadre. Take the turtle express today.” That said, he scooped the boy up into his arms, the boy’s head against his plastron. Zach blinked, “April…” he tried to push his way into a sitting position but Michelangelo was having none of it and he had to admit he really didn’t feel like fighting it. “She was hurt. I tried to—“

“We’ve got her, kid.” Raphael assured him as he hoisted the limp reporter into his own arms. “Rescues are our specialty, remember?” He thumbed the boy’s nose, “You did a good job with what you had, kid.”

Zach nodded, his eyes drooping. Michelangelo gave him a light smile, “See? Relax, little dude. We’ve got this.”

“Freddy..he’s…” Zach started but Leonardo shushed him, though not unkindly, with a gentle finger to the lips.

“Shh. We saw Zach. Time for grief and answers later. Right now, I need you quiet as you can be. Understand?” Despite the gentleness in his voice, there was also a determinism in it that left little room for argument. Zach recognized it, despite not hearing it very often. He tried raising his hand to give Leonardo a salute but the rest of the medication hit him hard right then and his eyes finally shut completely, leading to him laying against Michelangelo, out like a light. Raphael whistled softly though his teeth as they climbed out of the van, gently hoisting April into his arms,

“Potent stuff, brainac.”

Donatello frowned but did manage a low chuckle, saying “Took it a while to kick in. He’s a fighter.”

“Yeah, but dude, what did you give him?”

A smile finally breaking through his frown, Donatello always found himself touched by his youngest brother’s ‘mother-hen’ tendencies when it came to Zach. It mirrored their own behaviors concerning him actually but to see his youngest brother, standing there, looking so vulnerable with an armful of frightened child, despite the situation, and maybe even to defuse the situation, the purple banded one replied, “Same thing I gave you when Pizza Hut went on strike last year.”

Michelangelo narrowed his eyes at his brother, clearly stating without words that he was not in a joking mood. Truthfully, Donatello had not expected him to be but all the same, it had been worth a try. In any event, Donatello quickly remedied his response, “Haldol cocktail. He’ll be in la-la-land for a few hours.”

As they quickly moved through the carnage and back to the van, Leonardo inquired “Where do you get this stuff?” While his younger brothers may not have recognized what kind of drugs were in a cocktail (and he certainly didn’t know all of them) he had heard enough about Haldol in the news and his general reading to know it was not a drug you could just waltz into a drug store and request.  His genius brother shrugged in reply.

“Usually the labs and stuff that we end up helping end up asking to compensate. Providing me with some drugs and equipment usually works.” He cleared a space in the back for his brother to lay April down, stating, “I never know exactly what we’ll need so it never hurts to be prepared.” He winced though as Michelangelo climbed in, still cradling their limp ‘fifth turtle.’ “Just sorry I had to give him something so strong.”

At Michelangelo’s look, he added, quickly, “It won’t hurt him, Mikey. I promise. He won’t exactly be shootin’ hoops when he wakes up but he’ll be fine.”

The younger turtle gave a nod as his red banded brother made his way in with their older friend, trying not to jostle her too badly.

 “How’s April?” Raphael asked simply, setting her down as gently as he could.

“She’s alive. She’s lost a lot of blood, looks like a bite into her pectoral muscle.” Donatello turned to Leonardo and Raphael. “Let’s get them both back to the Lair.”

“After a bite like that?” Leonardo inquired.

“Sensei told me to bring them back to the Lair, not to a hospital.” Donatello informed his leader, his eyes serious as he patched what he could on April for the moment. At least he could put a permanent pressure on it. That would help. Wrapping it as best he was able to, as well as quickly as possible, he started to look her over for any other injuries, any other signs, anything else that could be important.

Thus, the trip began, Leonardo taking the place in the driver’s seat as the other three settled in the back, Donatello working on April, Raphael standing at the ready and Michelangelo cradling Zach close to his chest. The boy breathed but did not move otherwise. “Hey Donatello?” Michelangelo kept his voice very low but focused nonetheless.

Though he did not move from his position over April, he responded “Hmm?”

            “What do you think did this?”

            A pause, silence “I have no idea but if I had to guess, demon would be a pretty damn good place to start.”

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles darker 1987 tone #TMNT vs Walking Dead #fanfiction plot bunnies #I am becoming less stuck as I go I think!

[nattvingen]

Batfam Fic Recs

Specifically, JayDick and DamiTim! (Please mind the tags on AO3, be responsible for your own fandom experience, etc.)!

JAYDICK

this is where you are by empires Mature | No cape AU, Past abusive relationship, Hurt/comfort, Subspace

I'm lonely now, and I don't know how to get it back to good - matchbox 20

written for the geckoholic's prompt for the jaydick winter blahs exchange: you're a nude model at my art course and I'm so gonna fail it because you're so distracting

hold my body, hold my breath by redhoodsrobin (manatsuko) Teen-Explicit | Fake relationship, Undercover, Pining, Getting together, Sex

Nobody ever said it would be easy.

to catch a thief by badraph Teen | Character study, Relationship study

He's forced to realize, now, that his mental picture of Jason has been seriously outdated for a while now.

Exit Wounds by Fudgyokra Mature | Rape discussion, Incest discussion, Hurt/comfort, Sex, Getting together, DickKori

After a traumatic run-in with Slade, Dick returns to Wayne Manor to find peace. Instead, he finds Jason Todd.

Between The Bars by Mikimoo Mature | Undercover, POV outsider, Getting together

A number of suspicious deaths at South Haven Penitentiary are being ignored by the authorities, but have attracted the attention of various other parties.

OR:

That one time Dick and Jason accidentally ended up undercover on the same mission and started a riot.

Take the Heat Out of Me by quipquipquip Explicit | Sex, Injury, Some murder, Getting together

Lost Days!Jason trolls Officer Grayson!Dick in Blüdhaven. Dick counter-trolls with the power of love. (It's super effective.)

Swimming Up High (Flying Down Low) by geckoholic Explicit | Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism

Dick's cheeks flush with... he's not sure. There was no alcohol to cloud either of their memory and he remembers every dirty, debauched thing they did last night. And yet there's something indecent about watching this, now, like he's catching Jason in an intimate moment that he wasn't given permission to see.

ghosts and gods by perissologist Teen | Paranormal stuff, Getting together

If Jason is a ghost, then Dick is a supernatural force all his own, one that tears worlds apart in search of better ones.

---

As a side effect of coming back from the dead, Jason is a bona fide paranormal phenomenon. Dick seems to be a little too caught up in mooning after him to notice. Their siblings aren't amused.

(Or, Jason is a supernatural presence after his resurrection, but the poor fool in love with him thinks the freaky feelings are just the butterflies in his stomach.)

Novelty by Salmon_Pink Mature | Sex, Selfcest, Threesome, Costume kink

Two Dicks, no waiting, and it'd be funny if Jason wasn't so turned on he can't think straight.

Under My Sneered Lips by Salmon_Pink Explicit | Sex, Rimming, Felching, Dirty talk

Jason enjoys being Dick's first for all the filthiest things.

Fathers, Be Good by ariadne83, somehowunbroken Teen | Kid fic, Mostly gen

The last person that Dick expects to hear talking when he picks up his phone is Jason, who has been dead for years. Except he isn’t anymore, apparently, and Dick can hear a baby screaming in the background as Jason asks him for help. What is there for Dick to do but drop everything and run to help his long-lost brother?

The Miscommunication of Severance by orphan_account Teen | Divorce, Kid fic, Angst, Happy ending

Dick and Jason were just trying to make it work for the sake of their son.

a holy fool all colored blue by hadrons_collide Teen | Angst, Hurt/comfort, Getting together

After Batman deals with Scarecrow, Nightwing tracks down the Arkham Knight.

His Girl by Neffectual Teen | MtF!Jason, Coming out, Established relationship

Jason Todd took until she was thirty to become Violet, and she sometimes wonders if she'll ever feel quite right.

I Think I Wanna Marry You by dinolaur Teen | Established relationship, Marriage, Coming out

A night out for drinks and a certain Bruno Mars song land Dick and Jason in an interesting predicament. Guess it’s as good a time as any to come out to the family.

It Doesn't Stick by Skalidra Teen | Immortality, Flirting

Jason's fifteen when he dies for the first time. He's eighteen when he comes back to Gotham for vengeance, and dies again. But for some reason that second death doesn't last any more than the first one did, and Jason comes to the realization that something, somewhere, is keeping him alive.

Calendar Boy by empires Mature | No cape AU, Friendly rivalry, Getting together

prompt: Non tragic no cape AU where Jason's a sexy fireman and Dick's a sexy police officer. Bonus +1: policemen's ball. Bonus +2: firemen's calendar. JayDick?

All the Way (Like a Good Boy) by TimmyJaybird Explicit | Sex, JayRoy, Phonesex, Threesome-ish

Jason is drunk. He's drunk and on Dick's couch and suddenly faced with an age-old crush that never exactly died. Except he's with Roy now- but Dick is fairly sure all can be fixed with a quick phone call.

Melt Me Down by Skalidra Explicit | Sex, Marathon sex, Established relationship

Sometimes, Dick gets in moods. Jason's never been able to figure out exactly what the moods stem from, despite their years together, but he always finds himself caught up in the flow of them anyway. But of all the things that Dick could be doing in these moods, this is definitely a good one.

into you by perissologist Not Rated | Dance AU

“You think it’s really Nightwing?” Kyle asks, gaze searching ahead in the herd. “Here, in Gotham?”

“It’s possible, I guess,” Jason says. “He goes everywhere, doesn’t he?”

“C’mon, what’re we waiting for?” Duke is already pushing forward, eyes glittering in excitement. “Man, how crazy would it be if it is him? Dude’s a legend. I’ve been hoping he’d come to Gotham since that one video of him dancing to Tupac on the Eiffel Tower.”

---

The Outlaws are the best underground hip-hop crew in Gotham--until the anonymous international sensation Nightwing crashes onto the scene.

A Hot Mess by Skalidra Teen | College AU, Roommates, Getting together

Jason's roommate at his college, one Dick Grayson, is both a blessing and a curse. Hot as sin but messy as hell, and completely oblivious to both things. Even when he brings up the mess part of it, it doesn't get much better (although Dick is trying). So, they enact a system. Cleaning, in exchange for 'favors.'

I'm Just A Problem That Doesn't Wanna Be Solved by geckoholic Mature | Sex, Sex pollen, Angst, Pining

The agreement, as it stands, is a couple months old. Back around New Years, they had to deliver Bats to Catwoman's doorstep in a last ditch attempt after the chemical route didn't take. It was awkward for everyone and, from what Jason heard, had served to curtail eye contact in the manor to a minimum for a few days. He and Dick had a conversation about it a couple weeks later, and really, this kinda shit happens to them often enough that certain... contingency plans seemed like a good idea.

knocked me off the ground by Windmire Not Rated | No cape AU, KoriDonna, StephCass, Getting together

"It's Jason Todd you'd be working with. You remember Jason, right?"

"He's probably hoping you remember him."

For his best friend's wedding, Dick's more than willing to double as best man and co-wedding planner, even if it means going back to the city he's been avoiding for years on end. Then he meets the other best man and co-wedding planner and falling so hard and so fast was so not part of the plan.

Baby Let's Forget the Morning by MissNaya Explicit | Sex, Incest play, Dirty talk

Jason wonders what Dick thinks of him: is he a brother, a friend, something else entirely? He gets answers, but not in the way he pictured.

deafening perceptions you have of me by thanatopis Teen | Angst, Mutual pining, Getting together

Dick and Jason keep dancing around each other, never quite giving in or giving too much, and Dick is tired.

came down easy spinning threads to the throne by pissvinegarandacrowbar Mature | Sex, Fluff, Prescribed drugs, Established relationship

Red Hood took a bullet for Nightwing. Dick is grateful, he really is. But now he has to deal with a drugged-up Jason Todd.

Run and I will Chase You by Gravity_Sun Teen | First kiss, Pining

Day 1 - First Kiss

Or

The three times it didn't count, and the one time it did.

Cabin Fever by Skalidra Explicit | Sex, Established relationship, Injury

In one random fight, Dick takes a badly angled shot to the knee that puts him out of commission. As his partner, and the one living with him, it's Jason's job to keep Dick off his feet until he heals. Not an easy job, not with Dick's resistance to ever staying still, but he has to do it. At least there's one way that he knows for sure can bleed out some of Dick's extra energy.

Dad!Jason AU by fishfingersandjellybabies Gen-Mature | Baby Damian, Talon!Dick, Hurt/comfort, Getting together

In which Jason is resurrected and found that Talia had a baby with the Batman. To protect Damian from Bruce and Talia's battles, he gives up on his plan of revenge and instead secretly takes the child to Gotham to raise as his own.

But then Dick finds them both, and all bets are off.

My Downfall is Rooted in Your Desperate Need by victoriousscarf Explicit | Sex, Temporary character death, Rape discussion, Angst, Getting together

Dick isn't Orpheus and he can't play a lyre. But that's okay because the analogy falls apart the longer you look at it.

He's just not going to let Jason stay dead a second time.

Pop Psychology by perissologist Mature | Sex, Angst, Injury, Getting together

Stupid broken boys in love.

we will wear our masks again out after dark by IMightwing Explicit | Sex, Batman!Jason, Injury, Hurt/comfort, Getting together

Dick paused and looked straight at Jason. “I want you to be Batman until I’m healed.”

“No,” Jason said. No way in hell, he wanted to say, but the quicker he got this over with, the better.

Written for the Batfam Reverse Big Bang 2017.

Another Perfect Catastrophe by Mikimoo Explicit | Sex, Undercover, Non-consensual drug use, Non-consensual kissing

Dick goes undercover as himself in order to catch a gang of international thieves. Jason reluctantly tags along as his long suffering bodyguard. During the ensuing mayhem they get to know each other again and build a few bridges.

Indulgence by MissNaya Explicit | Sex, Established relationship, De-ageing, Dirty talk, Rape roleplay, Virginity roleplay, Spanking, Rimming, Costume kink, Bondage

A villain's curse turns Dick into a teenager physically. Before they figure out a solution, he and his boyfriend Jason decide to explore a few taboos.

Trophy Wife by Volavi Teen | Fluff, Established relationship

A casual remark from Roy forces Jason to re-evaluate his understanding of his relationship with Dick and his self-identity. Jason can't possibly be the trophy wife, can he? Dick helpfully sets Jason straight. Well, not exactly.

Miniature Bridges by Gravity_Sun Explicit | Sex, Angst, Pining

Day 3: First Time Realizing They’re In Love

Or

It's just sex, until it isn't.

Dick's Dick by MissNaya Explicit | Sex, Sex toys, Self-discovery, Dirty talk, Exhibitionism

Jason gets Dick a gag gift for Christmas. Neither of them expect him to end up liking it so much.

Through the Wire by pissvinegarandacrowbar Explicit | Sex, Tattoos, Body image, Getting together

…to your door, to your door.

When Jason finally works up the courage to get a tattoo he's wanted for years, he attempts to send a picture of it to Roy, who is out of Gotham on an emergency mission. Turns out, Harper and Grayson are awfully close together in his contact list.

Exeunt'verse by elwon Explicit | Sex, Getting together, Coming out

JayDick character studies. A pre-nu52 AU, set after Damian arrived in Gotham, but wherein Bruce never 'died' and therefore Battle of the Cowl didn't happen.

—————

DAMITIM

For a Change by MissNaya Explicit | Sex, Oral sex, Dom/sub, Dirty talk

Tim notices everything, whether he wants to or not. He knows by the clothes Dick wears whether he’s on-again or off-again with Barbara (tight pants and polo shirts mean on-again). He remembers how many bullets Jason has left even when Jason himself forgets. And he knows that Damian has been jerking off to the thought of him for at least several weeks.

Things Have a Way by cadkitten Explicit | Sex, Masturbation, Scent kink, Frottage

Tim gets mugged in his civilian identity. Damian comes to pick up the pieces.

Hoodwing’d by somehowunbroken Mature | JayDick, Fake relationship, Or is it?, Accidental relationship

Dick and Jason seem to think it’s hilarious to make out where Tim and Damian are going to walk in on them. Naturally, Tim and Damian take revenge.

Taste the Green by Salmon_Pink Explicit | Sex, Costume kink, Blowjob

Damian is wearing the original Robin uniform. Tim doesn’t think he can be blamed if he loses his mind a little.

Show Me the Meaning (Of Being Lonely) by TimmyJaybird Explicit | Sex, One-sided TimJay, One-sided DamiDick, JayDick, Heartbreak, Rebound sex, Accidental relationship

It started with a drunken need for comfort- when Tim and Damian were broken at what felt like their worst. But what was reflex, could have been called an accident, turned into the exact thing they both never knew they truly needed.

Involuntary Ties by TimmyJaybird Explicit | Sex, FtM Tim, PiV sex

Tim invites Damian to crash on his couch for the night, and quickly expects their night to go to nothing but bickering. Good thing that Damian is weak and pretty, and Tim doesn’t mind either.

Backwards by shadeblue Mature | Sex, Hate sex, Or is it?

He doesn’t even like Tim. Tim doesn’t even like him.

My True Love Gave To Me by fishfingersandjellybabies General Audiences | Crush, Superbat, Clark is a bro

In which Damian has a crush and has no idea what to do about it.

A Day of Rest by MarbleAide Explicit | Sex, Dom/sub, Bondage, Sex toys

Tim works too hard, but Damian has his own way to make him stop and get his head cleared up.

Give by cadkitten Explicit | Sex, Breathplay, Dom/sub

“Give.” The crack of Damian’s voice was like a whip, right next to Tim’s ear, and God that did things it shouldn’t have.

you don’t have to say i love you (to say i love you) by akaparalian General Audiences | No cape AU, College AU

It is 7:46 AM on Wednesday, and Damian very carefully sits down in his seat (front row, just to the right of the podium), every fibre of his being aware that Drake is sitting two seats away. This is – surely this is statistically significant. From five seats away to two, all at once – and after the coffee, and –

lit!verse: anachronism by heartslogos Teen | Major character death, Resurrection, Damian pls

Damian’s face softens as he reaches out, fingers brushing the unconscious face, “You were my father’s Robin, and for a time, Richard’s, perhaps… you could be my Robin as well.”

Join Me When You’re Free by Skalidra Explicit | Sex, Established relationship, Bondage, Sexual experimentation

Damian and Tim have been together for years, and sometimes, Damian likes to try new things. Usually Tim can see them coming a mile away, or at least know when Damian’s got something on his mind, but this time he’s caught a little off guard. (Which does not at all mean that he’s not interested.)

Plan Awry by DustToDust Teen | Unrequited love, Or is it?

Damian had a plan. For what only became clear after it’d all gone wrong.

#Great fanfic #JayDick #DickJay #DC #Feloss does stuff

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Life Story 102

Patrice, the general manager at Zany's where I worked, was socializing at a function of some kind, and ended up talking to the parents of one of her old college friends. This old couple went to the Lutheran church, and they had just lost their cleaning woman, an undocumented immigrant from Mexico that they paid under the table once a week to do janitorial work for their church. And every other Thursday they arranged for her to come over and clean their home as well. Patrice gave them my number, and I accepted the job. At this point, I really didn't need the money that badly, but Patrice had known from Sarah's attempts to get me a job there for so long that I needed work, that she instantly thought of me.

It was an awkward arrangement, and I found it difficult to communicate with the elderly mother of Patrice's distant friend. She wasn't forward in a way that I liked. For instance, she asked me too many questions, or delivered too many options but only wanted me to pick one option. She had days that she wanted me to do work, but she was unwilling to say them and instead told me to pick days when I could work, so then I would pick working on a random day, and she would start getting huffy and anxious, and eventually, after asking a lot of questions, she told me that day wouldn't work. It would have been far simpler if she gave me her ideas and I worked with her on those ideas instead. She ended up doing the same thing with everything involving the cleaning tasks she set me up to. She gave me four different cleaning products for cleaning the toilets, then went out and bought more cleaning products. In the end I had no idea what she wanted me to use – there was just so much.

It was not a long lived job. I remember the first day I went up to the church to clean it. It was way out of town, towards Tammany, miles from where I lived. Honestly, I was so tired of working with this uncertain woman that I just wanted her to leave me to the tasks so I could do them without her fretting about it as I worked. It was like she wanted to have all the control, but not at the same time, and she couldn't make up her mind and it stood in the way of ever getting the basic stuff done.

The church itself had a few people in it, there was a church function for special needs teens that attended that church, as well as a few other people who walked around the premises. The pastor was horrible. It might be unfair for me to say that because he really was never anything but nice towards me  - but something in my intuition didn't like the guy. He was phony, and he had a weird palmy handshake and as far as I could tell, he only ever wore Hawaiian shirts. He seemed cheesily happy all the time, but I could tell he was also very judgmental and full of himself. I tried to avoid people as I cleaned the church. I could feel them wondering about me, wondering if I was a fellow Lutheran, or if I would cut it as a replacement to the other cleaning woman that had left.

All in all, there were things I liked about cleaning the church. It was pretty in there. The light from the stained glass was beautiful. There was a serene and soft echoey feeling of calm in the church that was refreshing when one was alone. I always liked church pews, the old wood, candles, the bibles – even though I was a perfect heathen myself. It reminded me of days I had spent as a child in Sunday school with Rachelle. There is an old smell to these places that gave me a sense of nostalgia for my childhood. It ruined things when the pastor was around though, or when I found pamphlets concerned with 'fixing' gay people.

On the other days of the week, I went to the elderly couples house to clean for them. I absolutely hated cleaning there house it turns out. They were very rich, and they lived several miles the other direction in a small town just down the river called Asotin. They lived in a gated community, where the homes were plastic and new and everything looked very similar in these squeaky clean winding neighborhoods. There weren't any older homes, or old trees. I hated the community they lived in. Inside wasn't much better. They lived in an enormous house that they didn't need. They had a basement that was giant, and five bathrooms they never used – but wanted me to clean each one. It turns out that I hate cleaning and dusting when there is no grit or dust on anything. It was mind numbing, and I had to endure more of this woman following me around.

The older man was friendly. He was an old veteran, and he eventually found me cleaning and brought me into his office – which was decorated with war regalia and figurines representing warplanes and ships. There were paintings of soldiers all over. It seemed he spent a lot of his time in his war room, in order to get away from his wife and the idea that the50's were no longer. He was friendly though, and he seemed far more direct in what he wanted from me as far as cleaning was concerned. He seemed lonely. Though they were both grandparents, their kids and grand kids weren't all that interested in visiting much.

I accidentally scratched a table and I panicked. They had a precious stone of some kind on a table on display, and it tipped over and slightly chipped a part of their table. I don't think it was really my fault. It just kind of happened. Still I deliberated on what I should do, and instead of telling this woman, only to watch her fret and stew over it, I moved the stone so it was over top of the mark it had made on the table, hiding it from sight. As far as I know, it never went farther than that. What ultimately frustrated me the most though, was there wasn't any reason for me to clean around this thing. There was literally no dust. That, and I could hear them listening to conservative talk radio. It seemed really cheap to me that they were fine with an undocumented immigrant when she was cleaning their house, but they at the same time they wanted to coldly deport immigrants. It seemed weird to me that they both relied on immigrants and seemed to detest them, and only liked an immigrant if that immigrant was someone they saw as someone they personally owned who benefited them because they didn't have to pay a decent wage.

I did this job for about a month, but two things happened that made me stop. The first thing was something odd that happened at the church. It wasn't bad per say. It just was a sign. I was looking for reasons not to go to this job – I wasn't making that much more money than I was at my dishwashing job, and the people were snobby. What happened was, I was busy cleaning the church, and I had made my way down to the downstairs bathrooms – I tried opening the door to get in so I could clean the toilets and mop and clean the mirrors when I heard a moan of agony in one of the stalls. Clearly someone was in there, and it smelled horrid the second I walked in. In fact, I have never smelled anything so badly in my life. Whoever created that smell might have been dying – it was the first instinctive thought I had. I looked briefly in the direction of the moan, and it was the shoes of the pastor. I didn't mean to look, but I instantly noticed it was him and I skated out of there to give him space in the bathrooms.

He ended up being in the stall for forty minutes. I cleaned other areas of the downstairs of the church. I swept and changed the garbage bags. I waited patiently for him to leave the bathroom. I vacuumed the stairs twice. Eventually I heard him leave. I went in there, and it still smelled wicked, and when I looked in to the stall he had been in, the entire thing had been wiped down. The floor was wet. The sides of the stall were wet. And something about this, along with the rude looks of the church ladies who taught the special needs folk upstairs and their phony rich whiteness just bothered me, and I decided I wouldn't go back the next Thursday.

As for the job with the elderly couple I was cleaning house for. In all earnest, I tried to make it up to their home one more time, and I was going to explain to them that it wasn't going to work for me. I didn't want to come off as unappreciative, but their fake neighborhood and the phony rich white conservative attitude about the world made me uneasy – but I intended to tell them something nice just the same. Sarah foolishly let Zack use her car that day, and I had asked her to drive me out to Asotin to clean the elderly couples house before she headed off for work at Zany's. So we drove out there and into the phony hill neighborhood using Zack's car instead. Zack's car was loud and the back window and front window was duct taped and hideous. It looked like it had gone through a riot. I was trying to find their house, but every house on that hill was identical. I in all honesty couldn't recognize anyone's home apart from the next, so I just had Sarah drop me off. It was still morning but it was pretty hot outside already, Lewiston has an extremely low elevation compared to the rest of Idaho and it's very dry and desertlike, and summers in Lewiston can be very brutal.

Anyway, I didn't want Sarah to be late for work, so she dropped me off, and I just walked around this area looking for the house I was supposed to work at. It started to become clearer and clearer to me that there was no way I could tell each house apart, and what's more, out of the corner of my eye, I could see people looking at me suspiciously through their blinds. It was all quiet of course, but I could feel judgment coming from the peeping people who were watching me walk through the neighborhood. It was like a silent buzzing hive mind in the background. Zack's car had caught a lot of attention on account of how loud it had been. As I was starting to get nervous and desperate looking after a half hour, I just stopped and a resolve of clarity hit me. This was not my world and it never would be. There was no flavor in this community, no character or history. I wasn't providing a real service. I didn't enjoy walking around looking for this pointlessly big house that didn't even need cleaning, for people who couldn't really understand what it meant to be poor. If I couldn't even find this place after having worked there twice, it went to show that I probably didn't belong there. It hated me just as much as I hated it. So I decided to walk back home. I wouldn't put in my notice. I would just go.

Unfortunately for me, Asotin was a long ways from home. Eight miles to be exact. And it was going to be a day where temperatures reached into the one hundreds, and already my mouth was becoming sticky and dry. I would have to walk along the river's bike path to get back into town, and I could see the town looming in the distance. I could already tell how sore my legs were going to be by the time I finally got back. But probably the worst problem of all was that I had failed to wear socks. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I wear socks, but for whatever reason, maybe because I was feeling like we were running out of time, or Sarah was worried about making it to work on time, I had somehow left the house wearing just shoes. As I started to walk, I could feel the sweat in my sneakers, and the itchy burning sensation of my heel against the back of my shoes. One foot in particular was horrible. I would almost have taken my shoes off and walked barefoot, but the tar cement on the path was boiling hot, and there were too many little rocks, and my feet are soft. I tried to tough through it.

After walking a mile, I just felt delirious. My feet were on fire, particularly that one foot. I was half certain there was already a bloodblister on my heel. And I still had so many more miles to go, and I needed to get out of the sun as soon as possible, as I don't take well excessive sunlight. In my delirium, I began fantasizing about socks. 'Just one sock'. I imagined the sock cradling my feet. I could live with my right foot hurting, but the left one was becoming unbearable. I was sort of drifting in and out of clear thinking as I continued on.

There wasn't a lot of traffic on the path, and as I continued on down, I saw something white laid out in the middle of the path ahead of me. It looked familiarly like the very thing I was looking for. A sock. I was floored. If I hadn't been thirsty, if I hadn't been delirious from exhaustion, I might have been a little frightened. It seriously looked like someone had carefully laid a sock out on the path – waiting for me. And it wasn't two socks. It was one sock. Just like I had been internally bartering with myself. As I got closer, sure enough, it was a clean white man's sock, a few sizes too big for me. The very basic kind you buy in packs at Walmart. I looked around and there was no one. It was surreal. Surely what were the odds? I never saw anything like this on the path. Regardless I guess if it was divine intervention, if I had created this sock with the power of my thoughts or if it was just a strange coincidence, necessity called, and I put the sock on my foot. It helped considerably, and somehow, by mid afternoon I stumbled home sore, with the one man's white sock. I decided to take the sock as a kind of sign that I wasn't meant to work for those people. That the universe was still on my side, even if it felt chaotic and indifferent and random. I try not to make too big of a deal about it, but internally, I still think about that sock sometimes.

My mother sent David to stay at my grandma Marie's for a week or so. One of Wes's relatives was coming to check on Wes's house, and David wasn't supposed to stay there – and he of course wasn't coming home with the likes of me, so my mom sent him temporarily to my grandma's for a week until Wes's relative was done staying there, or at least, that is the arrangement I remember.  Speaking to my grandma about it later on – she told me that David was frightening. He walked around at random hours of the night, his shaved eyebrows frightened her and he sometimes looked at her like he wanted to kill her. David later explained it differently. Grandma was being judgmental and bitchy. I know them both well enough to know that neither one of them are exactly good at understanding how they come across. I guess I will never know precisely what went on, but after a week, David demanded my mother drive him back, and I guess he was supposed to come to the apartment regardless.

So it was early evening, another hot sunny day. It was my day off, and my mother had just driven her van into the driveway. Sarah and Zack were laying in their bed. Allison was doing her own thing, and I was doing my own thing in the living room. My mom came in the house, and she looked confused and angry and desperate. I guess she wanted Sarah and Zack and me to move. David didn't want us there, and he was refusing to come into the house until everyone moved. He was punching the side of the van as hard as he could and screaming outside. My mother was afraid that the cops would be called. So, rather than address Sarah, me or Zack, rather then let us know what was even happening the night before, or at some point before David was outside throwing a tantrum, she suddenly wanted everyone to move out that second. She hadn't planned this, I guess. But she was too afraid to ask Zack or Sarah to move. But she felt comfortable going after me. So she began screaming at me. She started screaming that she was done with me and I needed to get the fuck out. She didn't ask Sarah or Zack to leave, and instead she followed me as I went into their bedroom to get away from her. I was panicked because I had nowhere to go. Sarah and Zack really didn't either, but me least of all. I had to stay in town. I had nobody's house I could stay at. What was I going to do? And she wasn't kicking them out. The only person she was kicking out was me.

My mother was pounding on the door, screaming at me frantically, telling me I had done nothing but use her, calling me all kinds of names. Zack didn't budge, he wasn't intimidated by my mother's display, and in any case none of this was even aimed at me. It looked in every way like a personal vendetta against me. Perhaps my mother had anticipated that Zack and Sarah would get upset on my behalf and all three of us would leave. She should have known better. Sarah and Zack were fairly unaffected by her rampage, and it was clear she was afraid to confront them and instead was targeting me exclusively. So Sarah deliberated on my behalf, and she messaged Josh through facebook, and asked him if he would be alright if I stayed with him and Whitney in their apartment about a mile and a half away. Josh was instantly stoked and he said 'SURE!' and that was how I came to live with Josh and Whitney. In a way, I felt kind of sold off. I felt powerless. Somewhere between Josh and Sarah trading me off to one another, and my mother kicking me out randomly, it all just kind of happened to me – I didn't happen to it. An hour later I was sitting nervously in Josh and Whitney's house, in a spare bedroom alone wondering what would happen next.

At first, I was very timid, I stayed in the spare bedroom whenever anyone was home, and would only come out when everyone had left. Josh's apartment wasn't very big. Whitney's art was everywhere, and it was fairly entrancing. She painted these swirling chaotic colors all over everything, and she had obviously done damage to the apartment due to accidentally spilling paint. She had recently acquired a little pet black dog named Ichi (I presume the dog was named after Ichigo, the main character in the anime show Bleach), and they were never home enough to potty train him so they had to clean up his turds after work. Whitney didn't have a job. She had quit working at Wendy's after she had broken her leg, and she spent most of her time with her current boyfriend Ryan, this douche bag who lived in Pullman who had cheesy fiery clown tattoo sleeve. Josh was angry that he was paying the full rent on the house. Whitney and he shared a bed, but it wasn't a warm romantic thing, at least not for Josh.

There was something about that apartment that felt oppressive. It was hard to put my finger on it, but being around Josh and Whitney – even when nobody was angry, and nothing bad was happening, well, something was wrong. I felt like someone was trying to pull my soul out with a vacuum. I felt anxious. Josh used television to avoid thinking, and there was something almost militant about how he did this. He came home at five every evening, and he turned on the television. It felt like if I acted normal, the rest of the house wouldn't work. So I learned to sort of hold back whenever I was around Josh and Whitney, Josh in particular. It became instinctive.

Sarah and Zack meanwhile continued to live at my mother's. It was a great big joke to me that they stayed behind and lived the last month with David in that apartment. David tried to scare them off, but Zack was too dumb to care, and Sarah was too oblivious. It had all happened very fast, but in August it had been stipulated that Josh, Whitney, Zack, Sarah and myself – we were all moving into a big house together that was a big run down in a poor neighborhood in Clarkston. The rent would be cheap, and we would all have our own bedrooms. Nobody really talked to me about it, but it was clear that I was never going back to live with my mother, and I was excite about it. This was a huge step for me. Finally I would be moved out of my parents' houses for good. I remembered the girl I had been three years ago, feeling heavy and inhuman and lonely, afraid to go into a grocery store – believing I would never escape. I wanted to reach back and time and tell my old self what I had gone through, what I had powered through to get to where I was. I was finally free. I would have my own place and my own job. It was happening.

Allison didn't stay long at my mother's either. What happened with her was, she was offered to live up in Moscow with Melissa, Josh's sister. She was too behind for the Lewiston High School to accept her as a student, and the alternative school in Lewiston was already booked and full. And she didn't seem to be doing well emotionally. I can't put my finger on it, but after the Bright Eyes fight, things hadn't been the same between her and I. She low key hated me, and she said and stated a lot of arrogant illogical statements at me and everyone around her. She liked cutting me down, and anymore I found myself avoiding her. Of course, who could really blame her. She had pretty much been the victim of our parents, ignored, and she found in me an opportunity to look down on someone (given my vulnerable predisposition), and everything around her was changing fast. She now had Whitney and Josh as friends. I convinced her to go to the alternative school in Moscow, as I had done. I really wanted her to meet Mike. I guess in my mind, I hoped Mike could set her straight. Mike had a way of reaching me when I had been a teenager and wasn't logical. Mike had reshaped me, gave me the tools I needed to find the things in myself to grow. I was hoping he could help Allison. And since she had decided to take Melissa up on that offer to live in Moscow, it was the perfect opportunity for her to go to that same school. So that was what the plan was for her.

Josh, Melissa and Whitney adored Allison. For two months there, it was the cult of Allison. It was kind of strange how much they seemed to center their admiration around this confused teenage girl. And this really fed into Allison's ego, and it permanently changed her. She went from feeling uncertain of herself, tending to focus on her art and music, to seeking attention and being very extroverted. She often times liked to talk about how flawed I was, and criticize me in front of people. It hurt my feelings to some extent, but she wasn't seeing it from my age and vantage point. This situation played with Allison's ego, and it brought things out in her that I don't know she had ever had the opportunity to feel. She felt this sense of power. Her whole life she had been somewhat pushed down or felt inferior to, me – her older sister, and David who was generally the one who got the most attention from our parents. With the popularity she felt from Josh and Whitney giving her attention, she became a different person. She never quite returned to her same coping methods. Looking back, I couldn't help but think that, though it was inevitable that Allison would eventually meet the world and fall victim to flattery and her own complexes and neurosis, Josh and Whitney ultimately damaged something innocent in Allison. Because they weren't truly responsible with Allison. They don't realize what she gave up to them. Josh and Whitney were bored, and they saw Allison's youth as a fancy. They saw that she wrote songs and they gave her praise not because they cared about the art in it, but because it was something they couldn't do, and it made them feel cool to associate themselves with this young prodigy.

Josh and Whitney would drive up to Melissa's to visit Allison, and there were a lot of parties that I didn't know about. Allison came back to visit in Lewiston a week later, and she was flouncing around acting somewhere between a five year old and an egocentric rich woman. There was one day in particular, where Allison, Whitney, Sarah and Zack and I went up to Sarah's ranch. We didn't stay long. I remember separating off from everyone. The dynamics of my relationships with everyone I knew was so different, and anymore, even when I loathed feeling lonely, it was starting to be the only real option. Allison was going between people these days, and she was telling everyone the things that each person had said about the other. Everything anyone told her, she went and told someone else. If you gave her an inch of power, she ran with it. She now had this very open vendetta against both me and Sarah. Part of the reason for this was because she couldn't really affect Sarah and me. Sarah and I had a lot of problems at this point, I think that it's pretty obvious after everything that had happened. Some might reasonably suggest that we were both broken to one another. I still didn't even know if she was my friend or not. But with that said, if I said something bad about Sarah to Allison, it was something I also discussed with Sarah – I made sure she was aware of how I felt no matter how pleasant or unpleasant, no matter if I think she understood or not, and in this sense I could be honest with Sarah in a way that it's very hard to be honest with people. If I had this notion that Sarah was a flake, that she was a selfish person in some fundamental way, that she had an empty soul, I would just tell her, and though she was piss poor at really helping me work through those feelings, it was very personal between us. The truth didn't come from the statement, but it came from the honesty in my exploration of those feelings – at least from my end. And that was the honesty of how Sarah and I communicated and still do so.

So Allison was going between everyone, and telling them what the other had said. She was doing this with Josh and Whitney. When she was around David, she sided against me and Sarah with David. She was trying to do this with me and Sarah. It was neurotic, and after awhile, I felt badly for her. She wanted to control everyone. She wanted to be in the center. I think for years, Allison had felt fundamentally unloved and pushed aside, belittled, ignored, and ashamed, and this was in some confused way, her way of trying to place herself in the middle where the love was, where people would appreciate her and respect her. It was unhealthy, a testament to her own internal breaking point. It was clear that the little bit of attention she had received was causing her to become desperate, and to fall apart. She got pretty angry with Sarah when she tried to tell Sarah that I was mad at her. Sarah already knew – even if I hadn't told Sarah she accepted my feelings, and she didn't take much appreciation when Allison tried to control Sarah with information I had already told her personally.

I was out in the field alone when we were at Sarah's ranch. I was picking wildflowers by myself. Allison came up to me, and she told me that Josh was in love with Sarah. This information should have meant nothing to me. It shouldn't have affected me. But somehow I felt punched in the face. Everyone seemed obsessed with Sarah. Whitney seemed obsessed with Sarah, Zack had flocked to Sarah, and now of course Josh was obsessed with her. I felt like every mutual person that Sarah and I both knew would have made excuses for every bad thing Sarah had done, and they would have dismissed the fact that she had betrayed me, would have dismissed me as a person, the pain I had endured, and even my personal growth, all because Sarah was gorgeous and funny and likeable. She was more marketable than me, even if Sarah was internally falling apart. Even if Sarah's character was flawed, even if Sarah was a terrible person. The fact that everyone I knew leaned in this direction, it was giving me this complex and at times I felt inferior and furious at everyone who didn't seem to care. Why hadn't anyone really stood up for me? Why was I inherently worth less than Sarah?

Sure, my mom seemed to care somewhat about what had happened  - enough to acknowledge Sarah was an idiot, but she didn't really care about anyone but herself, and my father might have sided with me if I had been dumb enough to let him know anything, but that didn't matter because he was more or less just a war monger who would have agreed with me in order to try to convince me to move back to Kendrick. I needed someone in my life who was actually on my side, who was there for me. Who would tell me my worth, and wouldn't make me feel less than Sarah. It was hard to wake up and go to work for instance and know that Sarah could get away being a really shitty friend and ruining my life. I was finding myself mad when she laughed with her coworkers at the hostess stand. I wanted everyone to know what Sarah had done. The fact that she kept it in like a secret made me feel even angrier. Sure, I could understand she wasn't proud of her behavior, but she still stood by it. She would probably have been uncomfortable had I told anyone myself. People should know what she had done. She was a fraud. I guess I can't help but look back and feel like I was being a bit like Jan from the Brady Bunch, in her jealousy of her sister Marcia. I recognize that something kind of ugly was growing in me against Sarah. It was part of the dynamics now, and to be fair, I really hadn't fallen into this unwisely. Life had thrown some pretty big wrenches from some odd angles. Sarah had ruined my life, and now I had to be proud and individualistic and aggressive about myself in a way I hadn't really needed to do before.

But for some reason, finding out that Josh was crazy about Sarah, it kind of hit me in the worst way – in a very special way, in a mysterious way that felt like acid to the face. Allison had simply told me because she knew. She'd just wanted to gossip and probably didn't know this would affect me this way. I didn't say much to her in return – I didn't let her see what I was feeling, but I felt sick to my stomach, the world was kind of spinning and suddenly I didn't really want to pick wildflowers anymore. I wanted to crumple up into a ball. On the car ride home, I thought about Josh. I wondered why it was hurting me so badly. It just seemed so cartoonish for him of all people to be obsessive of Sarah. Allison had told me that he thought she was the kindest creature on the planet for trying to fix Zack, that he was pretty much willing to give up his life for her. I wanted to scoff at it. After seven years of Whitney, he had found this new person to be in love with - it seemed a tremendous feet. Like Sarah had something irresistible, something magic to her. And compared to her, i was a common stone. In the back of my subconscious, I had to wonder if I would have been happier if I had discovered that Josh had fallen for me instead. But of course, why would it bother me so much if in my last dream, I had turned Josh down? What did I even want anymore?

PART 101 - https://tinyurl.com/yafyhse2

My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-100 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far). 

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-100

#text #life story #long text #writing

[ccjinxxandjake]

Done for You: 2

Chapter Title: I am Bulletproof

Author: Max

Word Count: 6,076

Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut, suicide, suicide notes, character death, minor character death, implied/referenced character death, original character death(s), temporary character death, past character death, near death experiences, child death, animal death, not really character death, possible character death, near death, slow burn, slow to update, slow romance, tags may change, rating may change

Rating: Teen audiences and up

Summary: A fanfiction based off of Wretched and Divine and Vale aka an overhaul of a fanfiction that I had been writing for a few years.

Main pairing: Undecided

Author’s Note: Don’t forget to comment because comments are what keep me going and make me want to continue writing. I do not get paid to write this and I could be using this time to study for my AP Government and Politics exam and all of my college courses (I’m a dual enrollment child). Comments are your way of giving me my “paycheck” and feedback on my writing so I can improve to actually earn a paycheck from this in the future. So please help me put by commenting, liking and reblogging this.

The warm California air hit my face as we drove into the city. My hair blew in the wind, hitting me in the face. CC and Ashley’s hair blew back and hit my noise as well. I smiled and looked at CC, who seemed to be having a grand time. Ashley seemed to be having a good time too. I smiled and danced in the backseat. Ashley looked in the rearview mirror and at me. I watched them sing along to the music and just be so carefree. These are the moments I held close to me. We didn’t get these moments very often. When we did, we clutched to them harder than normal people. We were just too damaged to not hold onto the good movements. CC had gone through an eating disorder and years of depression. He had been in and out of hospitals most of his life. Up until recently, he had spent a few years in an inpatient eating disorder ward, one controlled by F.E.A.R. He knew what kind of mind games F.E.A.R used on people. He knew what kind of tactics they used to make people submissive. CC was useful to all of us as Wild Ones. He knew what went down with the community that oppressed us. He had the best experience with them. Ashley also had experience with F.E.A.R but less of a first hand experience. Ashley’s parents worked for F.E.A.R and so did his grandparents. luckily, his grandparents had escaped and joined the first generation of Wild Ones. He was the only one who knew what went down with F.E.A.R and he allowed some more insight into F.E.A.R. He said that they were pretty terrible and were responsible for his parent’s car crash. We had very little evidence of that right now. We were sure we would get more evidence once Angie came back from her mission. She was supposed to be extracting more information about Ashley’s parents. Apparently there were some files on their deaths at F.E.A.R head quarters. I guess it was super important for Ashley to see them. He says that his parents death wasn’t an accident. That is was apart of a plan, a conspiracy. I was the only one who was very close to F.E.A.R but that was only by birth. But, I wasn’t useful for any sort of information. Andy said that the Wild Ones were the first people to find me and I believed him. I had no reason not to. I had no other memories proving him wrong. I never knew who my parents were and I hoped they weren’t that big in F.E.A.R but assuming I came out of a Shadow, they probably were. Either that or they were druggies, homeless or just couldn’t take care of me. I assumed that they were good people. I assumed they were able to give me a good life, whoever they are. Maybe I sound a bit too much like Annie but it’s the truth. I wanted them to be good people so badly. It only made sense, I was a good person so they had to be. Ashley finally pulled into the parking lot, parking the car as far away from the Target. He pulled off his clothes and motioned for us to get out of the car. I got out and held CC’s hand as we watched Ash clean out the car. Ash was always through with the cars we stole. He cleaned it down and stripped the VIN number. He looked at me and smiled lightly. Ash motioned for us to put our hoods up, we did, and we walked towards the entrance. “We’ll have to scope for a new car but that’ll be pretty easy. Don’t think many people are going to pay attention to us, at least I hope no one pays any attention to us.” People normally left their keys in their cars. It was Los Angeles but it wasn’t what it once used to be. It was said that Los Angeles was full of people who wanted to make it big in the industry. More and more people soon came their to start their careers. Skin thin models ran alongside purvey men looking for another child actor to feed off of. The downtown area had more of a suburban feel to it. All of the rockstars, actresses and models had either joined the Wild Ones or became mind controlled zombies of F.E.A.R. Work in LA had dried up and the whole city was revamped. It was still the health conscious city it always was, just with a more normal batch of people. It was safe and clean, perfect almost. F.E.A.R had done a good job at cleaning up cities, pulling out anyone who didn’t belong. The store was brightly lit with fluorescent lighting. The hum of them drowned out what little conversation was going on. CC went off in search of some candy while Ash and I went to the food aisles in search of actual food. We filled my pockets with frozen meals and whatever bread I could shove into my pockets. CC came back moments later with his pockets stuffed to the brim with candy. Ash shook his head and continued to stuff more reasonable food into my pockets. “He’s getting a little more handsy, don’t you think?” CC whispered in my ear, shooting a look at Ashely who was more concerned with actually getting food than focusing on our conversation. “Don’t think a guy like him could ever swing that way. Even if he did, I’m sure he’d try to knock Juliet out before he made a move on Andy.” I shot a look at Ashley as he pulled out some frozen pizzas. We could easily pull three hundred dollars worth of food out of here, but we would need a lot more than that to feed eleven people. “Nah, Andy isn’t an Ashley type as much as he likes to think that. We all know Andy would swing more for a Jinxx type anyhow. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were fucking right now.” CC kept an eye on Ashley and any cameras that were in place. “Okay, and? What does Andy’s type have to do with Ashley being all handsy?” I shot another look at Ashley and pulled out some frozen mashed potatoes. “Well, it seems like he’s putting out feelers. He’s trying to get you to make the first move, verbally at least. I bet you he actually likes you.” A heat creeped to my cheeks as I looked over at Ashley once more. “There’s no way in hell he actually likes me. If he did, it would be a risk to even ask me out. It would be an even bigger risk for me to ask him out. You both know where we stand. If we got together, all hell would break lose.” “Fuck Andy and his stupid rules. He shouldn’t be able to do that to you. He shouldn’t control you. Just because you’re an important asset doesn’t mean you can’t be a bit more relaxed sometimes,” CC looked up at the camera as it whirred a bit, zooming in on his face. Panic set in one his face as he looked down at us. My stomach dropped. I knew what he was going to say almost immediately. “We have to go, like right now. They got me.” We were fugitives of the law. Wild Ones were of course put on an immediate watch list because we were actively committing treason against our president. But there were a few other reasons they wanted us. Andy was an escaped CIA agent and Ashley’s parents were agents of F.E.A.R. CC was an escaped convict, wanted for some weird reason. We don’t even know what his original crime was. Jake was wanted for the most crimes. Jake was wanted for animal abuse and neglect, he used human insulin on a dog. He tried justifying it but to no avail. He was wanted for scamming people. He had a clothing line that he overpriced. Jake was also wanted for harassment. He bullied a little girl, told someone to kill themselves, constantly called people names and bullied his ex-girlfriend/fiancé with his own wife for no reason. Jake was still bullying his peers, which sucked because he would never listen to us. He created massive hype for a song that no one really enjoyed which incited a riot, so he was wanted for that. Jinxx was wanted for hacking and arson. He was also wanted for doxxing people, but that was for the FBI to handle and not the local police. Ashley perked to attention upon hearing CC’s words and grabbed my hand. He dragged me, a few frozen dinners falling out of my coat. I grabbed CC’s hand and dragged him along with me. I dashed along with Ash and CC, trying to keep up with their long legs. My shortness was good for everything except for running. I tried to keep up but I had to stop every so often for my legs to catch a break. Ash and CC got a car wired up while I took a break. We were about a block away from the Target now. I could hear police sirens wailing in the distance. They pulled the car up alongside me and I jumped onto the roof of the car. I smiled and tapped the front of the car for good luck. Ashley shook his head as I turned to look at him. CC smiled widely and I could only assume he was giggling at my antics. There was no way I would have time to get into the car with the police on our tail. As soon as Ashley started the car, the police rounded the corner. I smiled and hopped onto the top of the car. The police were on our tail now. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, standing on top of a car we had just stolen, but the police had never chased us before and I was on a high. The police didn’t say anything as we weaved in-between cars. I smiled and just let myself enjoy the ride. I giggled and looked at down at my boys. CC was screaming something about feeling free and Ashley was focused on the road. We pulled onto the freeway and I prayed to god that we would lose them. “Get off of the car, miss.” The crackling sound of the megaphone covered up some of the message but I could get the gist of it. I growled lightly and rolled my eyes. Was my face really that feminine? I looked down at Ashley and his eyes popped up to look at me. “If they say ‘miss’ one more time then you can go off on them, okay? If you go now, it’ll look a bit suspect. But the second time will look a bit less suspect. Plus, we have to wait until they start shooting. We need to get them off out tail, okay?” Ashley yelled up at me. I nodded, a pain growing in my hands as claws formed from my hands. The loud screech of nail on metal pierced the air. A burning pain came from my shoulder blades and I smiled. As much as I hated having wings, they came in handy sometimes. I latched on as Ashley began to erratically through the cars. “Miss, please get off the car.” The cop in the passenger side of the car pulled out a gun and started shooting, trying to pop a tire. I smiled, my cue to go absolutely batshit on them. I leapt off the car and flew into the air. My claws latched into the glass of the windshield. The cop in the passenger seat looked at me, terrified. The other cop seemed to think nothing was wrong. Good, I truly was only visible in this form to people who believed in demons. I guess the man was an atheist as most other people would believe in some sort of demon. A small smile appeared on my face. I turned and looked at Ashley, who was about half a mile away from us. I ripped off the windshield off and threw it onto the pavement beside me. I reached in and grabbed his throat, crushing it in one fatal squeeze. He didn’t even struggle with me. I reached over and killed the other cop the same way. He didn’t struggle much either, which was good. The car spun out of control and I reached in, grabbing the wheel. The other hand reached and flung the driver out of the window. I tossed the passenger out of the now open hole that once was the windshield. I gained control of the car, turned off the sirens and pulled up next to Ash and CC. Ash gave me a thumbs up and I gave him one back. I smiled and pulled off the highway, exit 120, and onto the desert. Ash followed close behind me. We pulled up towards our abandoned apartment building. Well not really abandoned, just forgotten about. It was way out of anyone’s reach and no one wanted to trek half an hour into the city almost every day or time they wanted food. Not many people wanted this kind of seclusion but the Wild Ones enjoyed the privacy. We didn’t want anyone butting into our business. “Think anyone followed us?” I asked, looking at Ash as I jumped out of the car. Ash smiled and shook his head. “Probably not, unless they put in an APB for all of us. I’m sure F.E.A.R soldiers are on their way though. We are all wanted and they scanned CC’s face. He can’t go out for a while, they’ll be searching for him.” Ashley looked over CC and scanned him for any injuries. He did the same to me and I did the same to him. We all looked relatively okay, but Juliet would have to check us out, she was the healer of the group. I nodded and looked down, heading inside. We passed a few normal people, those who wanted to just get away from the city. I smiled and headed up to our apartment. “What the hell was that, Max?” Andy stormed up to me, arms crossed in front of my chest. I rolled my eyes and looked at him. 
“It wasn’t all my fault. I wasn’t the one who was caught on camera.” I turned and pointed at CC. Ash rolled his eyes and looked at me. “Why do we have to throw CC under the bus?” Ash looked over at CC, he looked at me. Andy looked at me and smiled. “It’s the truth, he was the one who was caught on camera. He was the only one who kept looking directly at it.” I looked at Andy and sighed. “You were on TV. People saw you, Max.” Andy glared at me and sighed lightly. I just walked away. I wasn’t ready to deal with an angry Andy just yet. I waited in my bedroom. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, I never did. Yet, I was still waiting for something. The bedroom was just an old room with crumbling walls and possibly mold. I had tried to fix it up, with duct tape no less, but to no avail. It wasn’t supposed to be much though. We moved around a lot. F.E.A.R kept a lot of tabs on us. My bed wasn’t that much either. It was a little fold up twin bed. It had some hand me down sheets as well. There were holes and such from moths and wear. I sighed and flopped onto the thin mattress. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. A place away from everyone. All the yelling and all the other people. I was a bit of an introvert anyhow. I hated being around a lot of people and being around nine men and one genderfluid person, made me feel so drained. Sometimes I hated being around other people. “Max, what the hell is wrong with you? You probably got us tracked.” Andy stood in the doorway and looked at me. “It wasn’t my fucking fault, okay?” I turned over in my bed, facing away from him. I curled into the ratty teddy bear my adoptive dad had given me. “Was it really all CC’s fault? If you weren’t so hungry, you wouldn’t have gone on a raid. CC wouldn’t have gone with you and gotten caught, now would he?” He looked at me and all over my body. “Where’s Juliet? I think I’ve got some injuries or at least some minor ones.” I looked over at Andy and watched his face twist in disgust. “She should be in the basement doing god knows what.” Andy nodded in her general direction. I got up and moved lightly. I walked all the way downstairs and into Juliet’s lair. She wasn’t just a natural healer, she was a witch as well. But she never really did much with it. She normally kept to herself. Juliet kept to herself besides trying to fuck Andy. We let her be most of the time. Juliet never seemed to mind much either. She was just doing her thing and we let her be, she was okay. I looked down and frowned a bit as I opened the old wooden door. It creaked a bit as I opened it. Juliet was looking over some of her own books. Her face looked at me as I peaked in. “What do you want from me?” Her eyes scanned my body as I stepped further into the room. I smiled lightly, our relationship wasn’t all that good. Apparently I had stolen her man or something like that. “I just want you to check me for some injuries, see if you can do anything about the ones I have. I mean, that is if I have any.” I looked at her as I walked over to her workbench. I sat on the only open space and peeled off my shirt. The sooner I got out of here, the better. She looked at my chest. “I saw the chase, doesn’t seem like you would have any injuries, but I guess I’ll check you over.” She began looking me over for any wounds. It appeared as though I had none. “Yeah, Ashley was worried that we might have any injuries. Ones we couldn’t see, but I doubt it.” I looked her over and sighed, she was worryingly skinny. She probably hadn’t eaten in a few days. “Yeah, you were right. There are no injuries I can see. You’re pretty much okay.” She shooed me off and I got up, grabbing my shirt off the table and walked outside. It was such a good day outside, is I decided to head out and sit out for a bit. I grabbed a lawn chair and sat on it. Today was going to be super nice. It was already turning out to be a good day. I had gotten into a police chase and I had sustained no injuries. I was on cloud nine. I smiled and just let myself get a bit of a tan. I giggled and looked at Ashley, who was working on burning the cars. He was shirtless and only wearing a pair of boxers. I smiled and looked him over. He was a good looking guy, I wasn’t going to lie. Ashley looked the police car over, dropping the gasoline by his side. He made a line from the car to a spot a few yards back. I smiled and looked him over. He looked over his shoulder and looked at me. Ash winked and smiled lightly. I smiled and looked at him. I blushed lightly and looked down. I sat in the sun and smiled lightly. I felt the sun warm my already tan skin. Ashley started the fire and the car burst into a ball of flames. I smiled and the few people who were outside cheered. I smiled and he walked towards me. I giggled and smiled lightly as he sat down next to me. “Like the fire?” He looked at me and smiled lightly. I blushed and smiled as his hand brushed against mine. “I do, but are you sure that no one will find us here?” I looked at Ashley as he watched the fire. He looked at me, smirking lightly. “I don’t know. I don’t really care either. We need a change of place anyhow. Though, I’m not sure where we would go either.” I smiled and looked at him, shaking my head lightly. I knew that he knew that Andy would kill him if the police found us. Andy always said that Ashley would bring the cops to us. I always said that Andy’s dumbass would bring the cops to us. “Great, we don’t have a place to go if your dumbass brings the cops here.” Ashley laughed and looked at me. “I mean, I’ve scoped out a few places. They’re all nuclear fallout shelters. But I’m not sure it would hold us all.” We had like two hundred people in our little set of Wild Ones. Oddly enough, we were the smallest group. All the others had roughly five hundred to a thousand people. “I’m sure a few of them could just hold us for a bit while we find another place.” I looked at Ashley and smiled lightly. “Yeah, but with all of our equipment, I don’t think we could all fit.” Ashley’s hand brushed up against mine again. “We’ll figure it out as soon as we get raided, yeah?” I looked at him and smiled lightly. We laid back and stayed there for a bit. I smiled and looked at him. The sound of police sirens was nothing new. It was rare, but it happened often enough that it didn’t alert anyone. That was until the police sirens got closer. I stood up and looked over at the highway, which wasn’t too far away from where we were stationed. They began pulling off the highway, one by one, and slowed their speed. I knew there were no other complexes around us. All of them were destroyed except for this one. I looked at Ashley and he nodded, running inside. I headed inside as well, shoving past a few people. We all began panicking, freaking out. People ran past each other and were all groveling to get to their rooms to pack. I ran up to my room and began packing. “I heard the sirens, are they coming here?” Vinny asked, stopping in the doorway as people rushed past my room. I nodded hurriedly as I threw my bag over my shoulder. My teddy bear hung at my side as I turned a bit. He nodded and headed to his room. I ran down to the only room that actually looked like an actual apartment. I knocked at the door and sighed. The door swung open and I was face to face with my dad. “The police-“ My dad held up a hand to shush me and just nodded lightly. His eyes were filled with sadness as he walked to an old recliner. He waved me in and I sat down next to him. People were screaming and trying to get out as fast as possible before F.E.A.R began shooting up the place. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time with my own father. We wouldn’t have much time with each other. The police must have already been here by now, knocking the down the door. The receptionist would keep a few of them back for awhile. “I don’t think I can go on anymore. My body is getting too old. I can’t move around anymore. My body just won’t do it, it can’t do it anymore. I don’t think I can make this trip.” I looked down and nodded. Even if Juliet could heal him, I knew what was coming. His eyes were old and losing their color. His skin was sagging and his joints creaked with every movement. He would be too much of a liability if I took him with me. We had this agreement since I was a small child. If he ever got too old to be with the Wild Ones anymore, he would go down one final time. He would use the last of his powers to protect us. “I understand dad, but…I want you to know that I love you. You’ve been the best dad I have ever had. I can not thank you enough for all that you have done for me. You have given me the best childhood I could ever ask for. I know how much you have tried to give me a normal life. I appreciate you and all that you have done for me so much.” It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to him. He was all that I had known in life. The only male figure that wasn’t somehow corrupt. I loved him as much as a son could. “Thank you Maxwell. I love you so much too. I knew this time was coming and I think you knew it was coming too. But, in my final hour, I want to give you something.” I heard the screams of a few people as shots ran out. My heart beat faster as I looked around. My dad looked at me and nodded lightly as he smiled. He pulled all of his rings off of his fingers and put them into a small baggie. I smiled and looked down lightly. His rings were always something I coveted. Each one had the birthstones for each month and another one had my birthstones with the other two being my brothers birthstones. I never knew my brothers and looked at him. I smiled and looked at them as he reached over to give the bag to me. “Find your brothers, I haven’t been able to find them in my whole lifetime. I want you to do what I couldn’t do. Their mothers have a ring just like the one I gave to you. Three birthstones in one ring. They should be giving their sons the ring today. Please, wear the ring as a sign to your siblings that you are someone they can trust. Find them, as my final wish, find them. I want you to find your brothers and get them away from F.E.A.R and their teachings. They’ll be in a city and under F.E.A.R’s brainwashing.” I nodded and heard more shots ring out. I smiled and looked at him. It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing that he was giving these rings to me as a final wish. I looked at him and looked down lightly at the bag of rings. My dad shooed me out and nodded. “They’re under F.E.A.R’s control?” I asked and he held up a hand to shush me up. I looked down and sighed lightly. “We don’t have much time left. F.E.A.R’s agents will be here soon.” I looked down and sighed lightly. “C-can I at least get one final goodnight?” I asked, pulling out my phone to start recording a video of him. He nodded and began singing our favorite lullaby, an old African one that his mother had sung to him. He smiled and looked at me, saying I love you one last time. I stopped recording and smiled lightly. “Now go, I’ll fight them off. Go be safe, my little lovebug.” I nodded and got up, taking one final look at him. I gave him a kiss on the forehead and sighed. This would be the last time I would ever see them. I grabbed my teddy bear and left, running downstairs and into the line of fire. I knew Andy, Jinxx, Jake, CC and Ashley would be out in the desert already. I knew that they needed to be protected even more than what we would like to do. They were the most important. Tens of people were already dead. I looked down and sighed, looking over the bodies. Loads of them were still alive. Their bodies were twitching and moving lightly. I looked down and left a few of them behind. I couldn’t save them all. They were all friends of mine too, so leaving them was super hard. I looked down and sighed lightly. I moved towards the back of the apartment building. Hundreds, and I mean hundreds, of F.E.A.R agents were shooting at the remaining Wild Ones. If someone was wounded, they would arrest them and throw them into the back of the SWAT van they had brought. I looked down and stood behind them. If I got noticed, I would be hurt as well and I was ‘the chosen one’. Andy would kill me if I got caught by F.E.A.R with the rest of them. I sighed and looked down lightly as I watched my friends get slaughtered. I took a look at my father’s window. F.E.A.R agents burst into the room. My father stood with his back to the window. In a single, silent stroke a F.E.A.R agent put a bullet in his head. Blood splattered the window and I held back my screams. Tears threatened to spill but I held back. My dad’s body fell lifeless. An idea hit me like a bag of bricks as soon as I saw Andy from across the way. He was hiding with the others behind some bushes. There was a dead F.E.A.R agent next to me. I picked her up and dragged her back to a wall of bushes by the apartment building. I pulled on her outfit, it was a bit baggy but I didn’t care. I shoved my bag into her backpack. I also took my teddy bear and the rings my dad gave me into the bag as well. I grabbed her gun and walked back towards the SWAT van. I smiled and looked at the wounded people in the van. I didn’t want to the dramatic pull-back-the-mask-to-surprise-the-wounded trick but I was itching to have a hero moment. I turned and looked at them lightly. I shifted lightly. My head spun lightly. I had no idea had gone through me. I had just done gone through with impersonating a F.E.A.R solider, which was highly illegal. If I got caught, I had no idea what was going to happen to me. I heard of one guy getting sentenced to a concentration camp and he almost died. He's still in a coma to this day and I felt so bad for doing something that could possibly kill me. If all went well, I could possibly find my brothers. My stomach churned as I looked at my friends. None of them seemed to notice me. I sat in the back of the van and we rode for a few hours. I had no idea where we were going and it didn't look like any of the others seemed to know where we were going either. I looked at them and tried to make out who was with me. It looked like Vinny, Chris, Josh, Ricky, Ryan and Ghost seemed to make it on all safely. They sat in a long chained row across from me. As long as I knew where they were and that they were safe, I was okay. But there were a few faces I had names to but I wasn’t sure if the names I had actually matched to the faces I was seeing.   There was Jamie, a soft haired girl with bright eyes and a knack for staying out of trouble. She was the one we sent out when we didn’t want to be caught. She was more of a pawn to the Wild Ones than anything else. There was Ryan Ashley, a woman who I knew only through legends. Ryan Ashley was a tall, tattooed woman and she was apart of a long line of witches. Her bloodline drew all the way back to the Salem Witch Trials and beyond. She was decently powerful as well and never seemed to pass up the chance to show us her power. She was always making sure we all had protection charms and sigils all around whatever compound we decided to stay in. I wasn't sure that her magic worked this time. Either that or she thought we were safe enough to not warrant these kinds of protections. I wasn't going to blame the killing and capture of all two hundred Wild Ones all on her. I just wasn't in the mood to actually do anything about it. There was a woman with deep red hair who I only knew as Phoenix and the was more powerful than anyone I had ever seen. She was able to catch herself on fire and not get burned. Of course, Jinxx had that power but it was very subdued. I couldn't imagine him using it on the scale that Phoenix used. I had access to Hellfire but that was only if I worked up enough strength to do it. The whole Hellfire thing just wiped me out. But Phoenix, she was super special. She was just able to catch fire and spontaneously combust only to pull her charred remains back together over a short period of time. Those were the only faces I could actually The ride into the city, or wherever we were going, seemed shorter than what I expected. I didn't like it because that mean that they were close to where our compound was and they were just waiting for the right time to pound. They were watching us the entire time and I knew it. There was no doubt in my mind that they weren't watching us. I was sure that they were just waiting around until one of us showed our faces. Those fucking assholes! I couldn't wait to just..I don't know, start a revolution or something. But I had to restrain myself a bit. I couldn't tell them all just yet. The van stopped and the back doors opened up to a whole new compound. It was underground and not like what I expected. It was just as put together as out place, and that was saying something. It was covered in a layer of filth and dust. The only high tech thing about it was their campaigning. It was all a front. Well, as much of a front as a government funded religion could put up. All of their tech seemed to be at least a generation older than what we were working with and we were already two generations behind. The F.E.A.R soldiers came out and took the prisoners to their cells and I followed their lead, I was going to have to go undercover after all. I turned and looked at one of my friends, deciding that I would lead Josh to his cell. He was the only one I could trust to not blab to. Everyone else, I would have totally set off as soon as I grabbed hold of them. I followed the lead of the other soldiers and followed them down to a catacomb like jail. I turned and looked at Josh. He sneered at me and growled, fangs showing lightly.  I backed up and sighed lightly, still holding onto his arm. I knew how much Josh hated F.E.A.R agents. His whole kind was killed off by F.E.A.R agents. I was just another F.E.A.R agent to him and that kind of hurt. Though, I knew what I looked like to him. He looked at me as I tossed him into a cell with five other people and closed the door behind him.

#my superman #jake pitts #koala bear #jinxx bvb #lion haired man #christian coma #unicorn #ashley purdy #andy biersack #done for you