#orange fear toxin....... it pleases my eyes

[lucasoliko]

My scarecrow design

I hope it doesn't matter at what time do i post on tumblr, anyway here's my scarecrow and jonathan design

And here's an old doodle from almost 6 months ago I believe?? This is the first doodle of him I ever did

#scarecrow #jonathan crane #orange fear toxin....... it pleases my eyes #hroo hraa #i love this old man #dc comics #batman rogues #fanart #character design #batman #lucasolikos art

[hoodielord]

Green eyes in the fear fog.

For half a second, Steph thought today would be a decent day. But no, not in Gotham.

Steph's current events professor, who was also the head of student affairs, had offered extra credit to help give college tours. Look, she had to take the extra credit she had to, even if it meant that she had to be a tour guide. It wasn't hard, just annoying.

The group was small, only five people, but two of them stuck out. A brother and sister. The brother was the definition of adoption bait blue eyes, black hair, vigilante tendencies withholding. The sister was at least as tall as Jason. She had orange hair just like Babs, you'd think they were related.

Anyways, Steph's new mission was to make sure the kid and Dick never met. The kid would not stop making puns. Some of them earned him a laugh but some earned him a smack from his sister.

"Aw, come on, Jazz, it was funny."

"You can do better." she shrugged.

" Sounds like a challenge." A wicked smirk appeared on his face.

" Danny, please don't."

"Challenge accepted."

Yep, I'm definitely keeping him away from Dick.

But something was off about them other than looking at the crime capital's university. They could probably be metahumans. Their eyes seemed to slightly glow blue. They carried themselves as they had already expected danger. I mean, it pays to be prepared, especially in Gotham, but they aren't from here.

If the siblings weren't already on a list B has they should be now. Jazz had been almost ecstatic when we were moving through the psychology department. Danny was practically bouncing off the walls when it was time to go through the engineering and physics departments. Definitely should keep an eye on them.

It was reaching the end of the tour in the cafeteria. Another weird thing about the siblings was their reaction to food. They seemed to have this sort of optimistic curiosity like they were happy to have food to eat, but at the same time, they were poking to make sure it wouldn't attack or something.

Talking with the siblings was interesting too. Danny was buzzing about the engineering department. He went into a great rant about a project that Wayne Enterprises was working on in the aerospace engineering division. Maybe she should keep him away from Tim, too.

The conversation died quickly when a shriek rang out from down the hall. Steph turned quickly to see green fear toxin fill the cafeteria. Swarms of people ran for the exits knocking each over. She quickly dug through her bag and pulled out her gas masks, one for her and her backup.

"Jazz? Jazz, where did you go?" Danny called. They must have gotten separated.

Damn, she needed another one for the siblings. She shoved her spare into Danny's hands.

" Put the mask on and head for the exit."

"But I need to find Jazz."

"I'll find her. Put the mask on and go." Steph yelled as she went further into the fog. Quickly, she sent an alert to Oracle. Signal is on patrol right now, but more bats might show up.

It was dense she could barely see in front of her. There was some noise up ahead. Someone was screaming. The yelling grew louder as she rounded the corner.

"Stop! Get away!"

It was Jazz. She was practically growling. Her fist slammed into the concrete wall, leaving a deep impact. She was clearly affected by the Fear gas. A meta affected with fear gas, not good.

"Stop! Don't hurt him. He's not a monster! He's my little brother!" Jazz had gone from fury to sadness as she practically begged for her hallucination to stop haunting her.

If it wasn’t the meta thing it was whatever she was hallucinating that caught Steph’s attention. Definitely on B's list now.

"Isn't it interesting what fear does to the mind?"

Steph saw Scarecrow emerge from the fog.

"I saw you in the psychology department. Your eyes lit up like a fire. But now they are clouded with fear."

A chill went up Steph's spine. She quickly checked her mask for leaks but didn't have any. Turning her attention back to Jazz and Scarecrow, she saw something. Green eyes shifted inside the fog. They looked like a predator hunting its prey. For a second, they look like Jason's.

From behind Scarecrow, the eyes stopped, and a figure emerged. A baseball bat slammed into Scarecrow's face, knocking him to the floor. The figure came into full view now. It was Danny his eyes were glowing green.

He knelt down to Scarecrow.

"You really don't have any brains. Do you Scarecrow? If you did, you wouldn't have hurt my sister." His voice was downright, frigid.

He turned and rushed over to Jazz who was still trying to convince her hallucinations to stop.

"Jazz, it's okay. Come on, I'm fine. It's okay." His voice was soft and gentle as he helped her up. Jazz mumbled a little as she stumbled down the hall.

Steph quickly caught up to the siblings slinging Jazz's arm over her shoulder.

"Sorry, I couldn't help earlier," Steph spoke quietly.

"It's fine. Not everybody can be a hero."

Steph wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but she just nodded.

"Sorry about the tour too."

"It wasn't all bad."

" Oh, the rouge attack and poisoning wasn’t bad?" Steph asked sarcastically.

" Our hometown is haunted and our community college is funded by my godfather. And he is a rich fruit loop.”

‘Ghosts?’

“You know Gotham University is funded by Wayne Enterprises right?”

“Annoying crazy fruit loop or weird himbo? Hmmm. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with the himbo on this one.”

Steph laughed at that one. Bruce is going to want to hear about this but she’ll keep him away from these siblings for a little while.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #Danny and Jazz visit colleges #Steph is the relucent tour guide #Had a vivid image of Danny emerging from the fog to beat Scarecrow pop into my head it turned into this. #why does my brain get ideas when it is time for me to sleep why?

[coyote-nebula]

strawberry

Stephanie is having a life crisis, and Bruce is there to check on her. He relates to her predicament a lot more than she expects.

Prompt: please tell me it's not blood Word count: 1000 Characters: Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort

🍓

The granite countertop was fantastically cool under Stephanie’s forehead, but it warmed so fast that she had to keep moving to a new spot. All the thoughts churning in her brain were probably cooking her neurons; she tried to remember if she’d seen any sodas in the Wayne fridge.

Or milk. God, that would be tragic, to make cookies and not have milk— she might have enough time to go down to the fancy twenty-four hour convenience store at the end of the road, but she’d have to go now and probably speed too. Better check.

Stephanie lifted her head and yelped.

Bruce was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with a half-awake squint.

She tried to push her heart back through her sternum. “B. Can I help you?”

He didn’t react. “Is that blood?”

She glanced down at the container she’d forgotten to lid. “…Uh, yeah. Good catch. I know it totally looks like strawberry puree.”

Bruce hummed. “Have you recently contracted vampirism.”

“No, but a vampire friend recommended it for spicing up my baking, you know? I was thinking about doing some filled cupcakes. Or maybe swirling it in some cake batter. Do you have milk?”

“Yes,” he said, but he went to the refrigerator and looked inside anyway. “Are we out of peanut butter cups.”

Stephanie pictured the empty orange bag she’d stuffed in the trash. “Not… sure? There’s some in the oven.”

“Hn.” He closed the fridge. “Smells good. Cookies? Is there blood in them.”

“No, the straw— the blood is for later.”

“Hn. Are you alright,” he asked. “It’s four a.m.”

The oven timer saved her from having to answer that; she hopped up and took the cookies out— they did smell good— then got two glasses down for milk.

When they were full, she turned around to find Bruce standing over the oven with his eyes closed, sighing into a half-molten cookie.

“How are you not burning the crap out of yourself right now?”

“”S not that hot,” he said, and took another bite. “They’re good. Excellent.”

“Thanks,” she said, trying to keep her preening on the down-low while she hissed through prying half a cookie off the sheet for herself.

She passed him milk. They chewed in silence.

Sugar and carbs combined with crumbled peanut butter chocolate was, as she’d hoped, fortifying.

“You remember when Alfred got fear gassed?” she asked abruptly. “And we found out that after a certain age, you can’t tolerate much of the antidote but it also works better at low doses?”

Bruce’s chewing stuttered. “Yes.”

“So, I had this senior patient at the hospital today who’d been exposed to fear toxin. I was supposed to load her up, just drench her in antidote, so I went to the attending doctor to say ‘hey, I think there’s a mistake here, let’s not give her a stroke.’ She blew me off, so I went to the charge nurse, who also blew me off because I’m a student, right? What the hell do I know— and meanwhile the patient is screaming her lungs out and about to have a heart attack because I have to waste time arguing with people who aren’t listening so I went back and gave her the correct, not insane amount of antidote before she could freaking code and die and then she was perfectly fine! But I charted it like some kind of honest moron and my instructor is pissed—”

“You saved her life,” Bruce said quietly, listening with his arms folded.

Stephanie took half a breath. “I think I’m getting kicked out of the nursing program,” she said, then took a deep breath and let it out. “Actually… I want to quit.”

“You’ve already decided?”

She half-shrugged. “Nursing is great and important and it’s… not for me.” She picked at the other half of the cookie she’d broken. “Leslie thought it would be good because it’s hands-on and it’s a slightly less dangerous form of helping people, and Mom thought so too. But it’s…”

Bruce drained his glass and took another cookie off the sheet while she thought.

“I’m listening,” he said at length, gently even though he didn’t look up from the bite he was about to take.

Stephanie was glad. The illusion of distraction made it easier to think.

“I don’t mind, like… supporting someone else’s problem-solving occasionally,” she said slowly. “But usually, I want to be the one solving the problem, you know?”

Bruce’s mouth twitched. “I can relate, yes.”

“Taking orders from Batman and sometimes even following them is about as much chain of command as I can handle,” she said, watching the good-natured roll of his eyes. “Anyway, maybe I need a day job where I don’t hold lives in my hands.”

Swallowing, Bruce and his thoughtful expression reached for another cookie. “You could bake.”

Stephanie snorted. “Yeah, and have a bakery with evening hours instead of morning hours. I’m sick of not getting my beauty sleep.”

Bruce nodded. “You can borrow the catering kitchen for now.”

For a moment, she didn’t track. “You’re not going to give me a ‘don’t be a quitter’ speech?”

“I work in a quiet office with large windows. Sometimes I nap,” he said, taking another bite and closing his eyes in an expression that, for him, passed for bliss. “I understand.”

Tension Stephanie hadn’t even noticed in herself dissolved. “And… the patient. You think…?”

Bruce looked at her. “I would have done the same,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”

Warm relief filled her chest.

She smiled and glanced around the kitchen, already tidied from the cookie dough and the puree. “Well, no promises that I’ll be a baker instead of a nurse, but I do want to make vampire cupcakes.”

“Sleep first,” Bruce said, wiping his hands. “I’ll hide these.”

She yawned and nudged his arm. “Thanks for being chill.”

“You’re safe,” he said. “I can be chill.”

Stephanie grinned. “It was just strawberry syrup, B. G’night.”

Bruce smirked. “Goodnight, Stephanie.”

🍓

view on ao3

#bruce wayne #stephanie brown #batdad #batfam fic #my fic #stress baking

[caesariawritesstuff]

Behave

(Arkham!Riddler x Reader x Arkham!Scarecrow)

● Ao3 ● X ● Retrospring ● Read on Ao3 ●

“Crane,” Edward’s voice boomed throughout the workshop, laced with a thick irritation. He stormed across the room, goggles resting atop his head.

The annoyed tone in Edward’s voice made you look up from the crossword puzzle you were working on. Johnathon looked up; eyes narrowed. His masked expression stoic as ever. You paused, your pencil hovering an inch above the paper.

“How many times have I told you not to leave your toxin out?” Edward asked, thrusting a vial of Crane’s fear toxin towards him. “I already had one unpleasant experience being exposed to it last week. I don’t want to have another.”

“My apologies, Edward,” Johnathon said. He took the orange-filled vial from Edward’s gloved hands. His long fingertips wrapped around the glass, before resting it on the desk in front of him. But then, his gaze flickered back to Edward. “Are you sure you don’t want another dose?”

He raised his arm, wear his gauntlet was safely secured to his limb. Needles shot up from the contraption, a clear threat. You sat up straighter in your seat and cleared your throat, making them both look your way.

Never in a million years did you think you’d find yourself in this position: dating both Edward Nigma and Johnathon Crane. Two of Gotham’s most notorious and dangerous criminals. Yet here you were, sharing not only your heart and soul with them, but your bed as well. Some nights, you asked Edward into your bed. Other nights, Johnathon. Some night, both of them at the same time. It depended on your mood – and who behaved the most.

You wouldn’t deny it: you liked having both of them dangling on your every word, controlling them with just a look. For such powerful men, knowing they secretly bended to your will and whims behind closed doors made you feel…powerful. Seductive. Sexy. But if only they could learn to get along and stop fighting, things would go much smoother.

 “He started it,” Edward said, pointing as Johnathon, like a child tattling on someone else.

Sighing, you rested your cheek in your hand. “Boys, please behave. For me?” You smiled, batting your eyelashes at them.

It was Edward who crossed his arms first, chest puffed out, brows furrowed. His blue eyes studied you carefully; you were still dressed in a silk, lacy black nightgown you’d worn to bed. It was early morning, yet you hadn’t bothered to dress. You could just tell by the look Edward was giving you that he was jealous. Last night, you’d asked Johnathon into bed. And Edward very clearly was not hiding his jealousy well. But it was Johnathon who very quietly returned to his work without another word, focusing his attention on the new vials of fear toxin he was busy concocting. Edward scoffed and spun on his heels, heading to his side of the workshop to return to his work. You smiled, satisfied that you’d broken up the fight. For now.

You returned to your crossword puzzle, trying to focus, but you were too distracted now. You glanced up once more, glancing between the two of them. Edward returned to his workbench, grabbed a wrench, and began working on his next model of Riddlerbots. Johnathon was quiet as he scribbled notes down on a pad of paper beside him. Your heart beat heavy, and excited knots twisted in your stomach. Truth was, you were happy with both of them. Despite the fighting…you loved them. Both of them.

It was Johnathon who suggested the polyamorous relationship. For quite some time, you’d been doing business with both of them. Selling information, providing intel, offering your own criminal services. And as the months passed, the attraction grew. At first, you didn’t quite mind having relations with both of them without the other knowing. Nothing was official, it was simply quiet, passionate nights spent together. But overtime, it seemed both Jonathan and Edward began to catch on to the fact that you were spending your nights with both of them. And so, Johnathon came up with the idea. You were excited, at first. It was Edward who was hesitant; he was too jealous of a man to share you with anyone. But eventually, he caved.

It'd been weeks since the arrangement, and the three of you moved into a new hideout to share. The workshop was divided in half: one side Edward’s, the other Johnathon’s. Edward’s was all machinery and tools and parts. Johnathon’s was beakers and vials and barrels of toxin. For the most part, they kept to themselves, but, well…sometimes they got in each other’s way.  

Looking back down at your puzzle, you studied the next question you were on. You reread the question again and again, wondering what it could be – but you were positively stumped. “Eddie,” you said. “What’s an eight-letter word meaning ‘to insert’?”

“Intromit,” he answered without a beat.

“Thank you,” you said, grinning, as you scribbled the next answer in. You continued on with the crossword, scribbling another set of answers in, until you came to a second question that had you confused. “What’s a ten-letter word meaning ‘situated within the walls of a city’?

“Intramural,” Jonathon answered with the same quickness, without looking up once from his work.

“Intramural,” you repeated, writing the letters into the boxes. “Thank you, Johnathon.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Edward stiffen and glance over his shoulder, glaring at Johnathon so hard you could almost feel the heat radiating off him. “I’m surprised at your wit, Crane. You’d think that mask of yours would be squeezing too hard on that small amount of intellect you have.”

Johnathon sighed, but didn’t raise his eyes. “Insults will get you nowhere, Edward.”

“It’s not an insult. It’s a fact,” Edward shot back.

“Boys, please,” you said. You slipped off your seat and walked to the center of the room, glancing between both of them. But first, you wandered over to Johnathon.

He looked up at you, his mask-like mass hiding his expression well. But you leaned forward and placed a gentle, chaste kiss to the side of his face. Then you turned on your heels, wandered back to Edward, and placed a similar kiss to his other cheek.

“Now,” you said. “Please behave?”

Johnathon only nodded and turned back to work. Edward grumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t quite hear. But you smiled and settled back into your seat, glancing up once more. Despite Edward’s quiet mumbling, a small smile twitched at the edge of his lips. And even though Johnathon wasn’t the type of man to smile, you could tell by his relaxed shoulders that he seemed pleased by your kiss.

Smiling, you returned to your crossword puzzle, satisfied. Getting the Scarecrow and the Riddler to listen you was certainly something you reveled in – and if they continued to behave, you’d reward them tonight for their good behavior.

And oh, how you wished they’d behave.

#caesariawrites #arkham riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse riddler #arkhamverse #edward nigma #theriddler #jonathon crane #scarecrow #arkham scarecrow #arkham jonathon crane #riddler x y/n #riddler x reader #the riddler x reader #riddler x you #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you

[finniestoncrane]

(Please do this request when youre ready and relaxed enough for it ♡ i know you get a million of these and i dont wanna put pressure on you for thus ;w; )

I always loved the idea of soft arkham knight scarecrow. Mans always working himself and doesnt want to take time off for himself, but sees y/n(or reader really) inna soft type of way. Of course hes an ass or just mean sometimes, but those tender moments? Just jon gazing (or just staring holes) into his lovers eyes and promise hell burn the world for them, these tend to come out during sex or when hes beat tired.

Maybe something like jon hurting himself, and at first hes defensive and pushing away, til reader finally tells him he needs help with that atleast, so he allows it and it turns to a soft moment with kissss and gentle words qwq ❤🥺

Just,, soft jon is my fave, even if its little to none

Again!! Pls dont rush this and make sure youre in a good mental spot to do this ❤ i dont wish to stress you out with more request Q-Q

Tender

Arkham!Scarecrow x GN!Reader, word count: 500 as if i needed tender by blur to carry more emotional weight, but anyway i love soft jon, i love boys who are the masters of fear because underneath they're just very scared 🧡🎃 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: injury, blood, kissing

From the other side of the makeshift ‘lab’ you heard the gentle tinkling of smashed glass hitting the floor, turning quickly to find Jonathan kneeling, balanced on his weaker leg, lifting the pieces from the ground.

“Do you need help?”

“Perfectly capable, thank you.”

You approached him anyway, slowly, quietly, until you noticed that one of the shards had cut his thumb which was now bleeding profusely, droplets spilling onto the floor, mixing with the orange liquid that oozed into the cracks in the tiles.

“Oh no, you dropped a vial of the toxin?”

“Plenty more.”

“Your thumb, Jon…”

“Also fine.”

“But, the wound is open and the toxin-”

“It doesn’t have any effect on me anymore.”

He was indeed immune to the effects, either inherently or through years of exposure, but it was the blood that caused you concern.

“You’re bleeding though. A lot. Let me clean it up for you, please.”

Placing gloves over your hands, you cleaned up the wound, making sure there was no glass left embedded into his cracked, filthy finger. It was deep enough to warrant a couple of stitches, something Jonathan was more than happy to allow you to do for him.

“This might sting.”

“I’m very used to this specific pain.”

You tried to smile at the humour, dark as it was, but you knew it came from a place of genuine hurt. As you watched him surreptitiously out of the corner of your eye, he yawned, and you felt something invisible but strong tugging at your heart.

“You know, Jon… you should get some sleep. You don’t need to do everything alone, or be awake when I’m awake. There’s no need to be a martyr to the cause.”

He looked at himself in the dull reflection of the metal table.

“I’m afraid I already am.”

Bypassing the social conventions set in place by the nature of your working relationship, you took his cheek in your hand, turning him to face you, offering him a smile, his cold skin warming under your palm quickly.

As you only just grew accustomed to the fact that he had allowed such a close, intimate gesture to go unchecked, you were quickly taken aback as he leaned in, grabbing your face, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss took your breath away, how surprisingly tender it was, the feeling behind it. A drop of passion, a hint of desperation, vulnerability. And when your lips had parted, he remained close, stopping for a moment to catch his breath with his forehead against yours.

And when you had prepared yourself for the sweet moment to end, he quickly turned his head, a kiss on your cheek, the side of your neck, round to the front as his hands found your thighs, clawing at them. You inhaled sharply, tossing your head back to allow him more room to explore you, but he was done. It was over.

He pulled away, uttering a soft thank you before returning to the work bench. Tender, sweet, healing. You hoped he would remember the gesture, and the unspoken commitment to providing him with more when needed.

#finnie writes #batman #fanfic #scarecrow #jonathan crane #scarecrow imagine #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader #rogues gallery #batman rogues #scarecrow x you

[acapelladitty]

birth for the prompt list? :)

Jonathan Crane - Birth

It was supposed to be simple. It always was. Boyle Industries was notorious amongst the criminal underworld for being nowhere near as secure as any WayneTech building in terms of both physical and technical security prowess.

The information from Freeze had been accurate and it had not taken long for Crane to locate the chemicals he was seeking. He had even found them already packaged in an easily transported briefcase which seemed an unexpected act of serendipity for his plans.

However, as had become apparent throughout his personal history, with every stroke of luck he enjoying something else would be quick to follow to bolster his growing headache.

"What did you say to me?" Crane rasped, staring daggers at the woman who remained seated at the wooden table, her expression matching her three other colleagues who were fidgeting at their own positions around the table with panic clear in their movements.

His lips twisted in distate as her eyes took on the shine of unshed tears as she repeated her earlier statement.

"Please! Please don't hurt me," the terror in her voice was palpable, "or my baby."

The labcoat she was wearing parted as she stood to her legs shakily and Crane swore internally as it revealed a severely enlarged gut poking out from below.

She was pregnant, and heavily so.

Observing her, Crane was quick to realise that if the size of the bump were to be believed, this woman would be celebrating the birth of her filthy offspring within weeks, if not, days.

Caught off-guard by the unexpected development, Crane froze in position as he assessed the situation; his fingers still clutched around the vial of toxin he was using to keep the four scientists under control.

If he dispersed this particular toxin in this enclosed space, this woman would most likely lose the child. The average human body was barley able to survive an outright dose of his toxin and the stresses that such an experience would place on an expectant mother and her unborn fetus would be dire for at least one of them, likely both.

In the heavy silence of the room, he could see the headlines in his mind's eye; his face plastered across the tabloid rags with the words 'baby-killer' and 'monster' splashed across the pages in large lettering. The latter term wasn't anything new to him but such inflammatory headlines would whip the populace into a frenzy as those who bayed for his blood would find renewed energy and support for their movement.

Infanticide was a charge that would not be recovered from easily.

Murder was as commonplace as lunch in Gotham but even Gotham, the City of Dis that it was, still had the utter gall to continue to hold on to some basic moral standings.

Logically, he understood that it would be a poor move on his part but the dilemma which was staying his hand was not one of logic, but morality.

He took open pleasure in the reactions of the people to his toxin, the screaming and unadulterated terror regularly providing him with a satisfaction that was not matched by any other activity he could undertake. On top of that, this experience could be a valuable insight into how his toxin affected those who suffering that particular condition.

However, even with the benefit of gaining valuable field data in this regard, he found that his hand was unwilling to comply as a cold sensation flooded his gut.

He would not be held responsible for this.

"Leave," he muttered, the words escaping between clenched teeth as he pointed at the standing woman, "and be quick about it before my mercy is exhausted."

It felt wrong, to allow such a frightened mouse to escape his clutches without consequence, but the unfortunate part of himself that still held somewhat human values found itself sated with the decision.

The terror in her eyes was tinged with outright confusion as she stared him out, testing his words for any deception. Her hands, placed atop her distended abdomen, rubbed at the fabric there protectively as he held her panicked gaze with cold certainty to show his allowance.

Her footsteps were soft yet frantic as the woman waddled towards the door, abandoning her colleagues with little hesitation as she pulled at the door handle with shaking hands and disappeared from the room.

Knowing when a situation was lost and unconvinced that the woman was suitably terrified enough to forget to alert the authorities, Crane grunted in displeasure as he snatched up the briefcase of chemicals he had fought to acquire.

Surprisingly, one of the men at the table stood as Crane made his way past them to leave.

"Thank you."

The words were sincere, the fear within his tone laced by a disgusting gratitude which set Crane's teeth on edge.

Turning on his heel, Crane threw the vial which was still within his grasp at the feet of the fool. A smirk of satisfaction tugged at his lips as the man dropped to his knees, a plume of orange-tinged gas enveloping him, as he soon started to writhe across the floor with a long scream drawing from his throat and piercing the silence of the room.

Speaking to the remaining two staff, both of whom he was delighted to see had the sense to remain openly terrified, Crane straightened to his full height and extended his palm in their general direction.

"Do not mistake mercy for altruism. You may not have faced your fears on this night but keep an eye to the shadows because the monsters within serve the Scarecrow and I will come for what I am due."

They flinched as the screams of the downed man reaching a new pitch, marking his words with a nice dramatic flair and Crane used the opportunity to disappear throughout the door, eager to escape with his newly-acquired prize.

#Jonathan crane #Scarecrow #gotham rogues #Batman villains #dc comics #thank u anon! had a lot of fun with this

[avengerscompound]

The Hamptons’ House: 2009 - 2

The Hamptons’ House:  A Iron Man Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 1803

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of torture, illness, and PTSD

Synopsis: When Tony goes missing for three months in Afghanistan you grieve his death.  His subsequent return and outing as Iron Man means your first time seeing him in the Hamptons carries a lot of emotion and questions.

2009: Part 2

Tony woke just as the sun began to rise and he crawled out from between the pocket that you and Kurt had made around him.  He was reluctant to get up.  It was nice to wake up cuddled up with other people and he really relished his time with you.  He’d like to just lie there until you both woke and then spend the morning finding other reasons to stay in bed, but he had a few things to take care of before you woke, and it would be nice to take the time to watch the sunrise over the ocean.  He wasn’t completely sure he’d get another chance to see it.

He went to the workbench in his room.  It hadn’t changed much since he’d installed JARVIS.  The only new thing on there was the device he had made to check his blood toxicity level.

He’d known when he’d first made the miniaturized arc reactor having it embedded in his chest would be dangerous.  Palladium was toxic, but the toxins would kill him much slower than the pieces of shrapnel floating around in his chest so he’d hoped that he’d be able to find some alternative to the palladium, preferably before it killed him.  In the meantime, he was trying to live a little healthier.  He’d been drinking chlorophyll smoothies to try and negate the poisoning.

He pricked his finger and watched as the display lit up.

Blood Toxicity 06%.

Not too bad - he could work with that.  He would need to figure out how to get that under control though because at the rate it was going up, he was barely going to clear his next birthday.

He put the device aside and looked out the window.  He could worry about that later.  Now he had to worry about how he was going to tell you what had happened to him and how it was still not over.

He hadn’t really told anyone what had happened.  Not all of it anyway.  Some people knew parts.  Everyone knew he had been in the cave and about inventing the arc.  No one knew about the waterboarding or how from months after he got home when he got in the shower and the water hit his face - he would flinch.  Pepper, Rhodey, and some of SHIELD knew about Obidiah - but no one else.  No one knew about the dance with Pepper or how he’d realized he was falling in love with her and he was fairly certain she felt the same way.

He wanted to tell you.  You of all people wouldn’t hold any of it against him or pressure him to do something he wasn’t comfortable with.  It wasn’t going to be easy though.

“Tony?”

You spoke at barely above a whisper and yet the sound startled him in the quiet room.  He jumped a little and spun around in his chair.  Kurt still slept soundly, but you were sitting up, looking at him.  You’d pulled the sheet up to cover yourself but your breast was exposed.  He could see the look of worry on your face and a wave of guilt hit him.  He hated how upset you’d been last night.  He’d wished he could have protected you from that fear, and he had been grateful that he’d never actually started dating you in the first place.  He could only imagine how panicked you’d be if it had just been the two of you.

Tony’s automatic reaction was to smile.  It wasn’t real and he knew you’d see through it.  He hated using that smile on you, but it had become so natural to wear it.  When he realized what he was doing he let the facade fall again.  “Hey,” he whispered.  “Go back to sleep.  It’s early.”

You climbed out of bed and moved to him.  When you reached him, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close, resting his forehead on your bare chest.  “Why are you up?” You whispered.

“Guess I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted.  “Needed to get my thoughts in order.”

“Yeah?” You asked.  “Like what?”

He pulled back and looked up at you.  “Maybe we should go downstairs so we don’t wake, Kurt.”

You nodded and pulled away, going to your bag and pulling out a sleep shirt and a robe.  The two of you headed downstairs together.  The house was a hive of activity.  In the kitchen, the cooks were preparing breakfast-to-go for the party guests that were sleeping off the events of last night.  Tony paused just long enough to ask them to bring you something out to the patio before moving on.  There were maids and cleaners and Happy’s security team waking up people and moving them on as they cleaned up.  All over the living room and out on the deck people were blearily getting dressed and making their way to the buffet table that had been set up with tea, coffee, and juice and was being laden down with toast and breakfast sandwiches.

People called out happy birthday to him, but no one tried very hard to engage.  He was glad of that at least.  You followed him to the hammock and when he was comfortably lying in it, he pulled you down on top of him.

The sun was now a semi-circle on the horizon making the sky a mix of orange, pink, and purple.  You settled against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and staring out over the ocean with hooded eyes.  There was a pain in his chest where you were leaning against him.  He hurt most of the time since Afghanistan.  Having a hole carved out of your ribs and a battery shoved in where they used to be was bound to be painful.  Still, he took it.  Pain meant he was alive, and right now, that meant he was here with you.

“You gonna tell me everything?”  You asked quietly.

He rubbed your back and gave a small nod.  “Yeah,” he said.  “But I need you to promise me something, you can’t tell anyone.  Not Kurt.  Not some random friend you know who doesn’t know me.  Not Rhodey.  Especially not Rhodey.  He’ll just worry and get in my way and … I can’t do that to him.”

“You’re scaring me, Tony,” you said.

“Promise me, Cookie.  Promise me or I won’t tell you anything,” he said.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  You looked up into his eyes and gave a small nod.  “I promise.  It stays between you and me.”

Tony kissed you softly and ran his palm up and down your back.  This was it.  He was going to unburden himself of everything and he hoped that you were the person he could do that with without regrets.

“I was making a sale in Afghanistan.  Obidiah had convinced me it was better if we did the demonstration on site.  I ate it up…”

Tony told you everything.  About how he’d been arguing with Rhodey before it happened.  How he’d been joking with the soldiers just before the explosion.  How he’d watched those soldiers die right in front of his eyes just before a bomb landed beside him with the Stark Industries’ logo on it and everything had gone black.

He told you about waking up with them making a recording for Obidiah (though he hadn’t known it at the time).  He told you about waking up again and how Yinsen had saved his life by putting a battery in his chest.  How he’d been asked to make more weapons and that when he refused they’d tortured him.  The fact that Yinsen kept trying to befriend him, and by the time Tony did trust the man, he’d already built the miniature arc reactor and had started making the metal suit.

He told you about fighting his way out.  Watching Yinsen die.  Blowing up as many of his own weapons as he could.  Rhodey finding him in the desert.  Deciding he was changing the direction of the company.  Of building a new arc reactor.  A new suit.  How Obidiah had been the one that ordered the hit.  How the man who had acted like his stand-in-father had stolen his heart right out of his chest and left him to die.  How Tony had ended up killing him with Pepper’s help and some secret government organization had covered it up.

He didn’t just tell you about the events that led him to become Iron Man though.  He’d also told you about the dance with Pepper and how he was definitely in love with her and that he was pretty sure she felt the same way but neither of them seemed to be willing to do anything about it.  He told you part of the reason why he wasn’t willing to move it forward was that the very device keeping him alive was also killing him and he didn’t have it in him to put her through losing him if they moved from being boss and employee to lovers.

He didn’t leave out one single thing.  The staff brought you both breakfast and left it on a table beside the hammock.  You both left it practically untouched as he spoke, just pausing to sip his chlorophyll smoothie or coffee briefly from time to time.  When he was done the house had cleared out and was almost completely clean, and the sun was up.  You were crying silently, tear tracks staining your cheeks.

“Oh, Tony,” you whispered.

“Please,” he said.  “I don’t want pity, okay?  I’m working on it.  You’re the only one I trust to tell all this to.”

“It’s so much, Tony,” you said.  “You need help.”

He sighed and pressed his lips to the top of your head.  “I promise, I can handle it.  And if it gets to the point that it’s too much, I’ll tell Rhodey.  But I invented this thing -” he tapped the casing on the arc, “- in a cave, under pressure, by myself.  I’m the best one to fix it.  If Rhodey and Pepper are worrying too much, it’ll just distract me.”

You frowned and nodded.  He tilted your chin up to face him.  “Now, you know,” he said.  “But the world out there isn’t part of what we have here.  Right?”

You nodded.  “Right.”

“So, we’re just going to do what we always do,” he said.  “Hang by the pool.  Relax.  Fuck.  Enjoy ourselves.  Right?”

“Right,” you agreed.  He smiled and leaned in and kissed you.  You hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The sliding door opened and closed and he pulled back, looking over to see Kurt watching you both.

“Where’d you guys go?”  He asked.

Tony smirked and held out his hand.  “Why don’t you get over here and find out?”

// NEXT

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man #iron man fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #the hamptons' house #2009

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 6) The Fight

This scene does not appear in the books or the game. This is a scene that relates to the MC and her journey in my “Main Story Quests Rewritten” series but takes themes and information from what happened to Kogure and Akira Sakurai. One thing that is not communicated well in the game, is that Kogure and Akira were put in positions to die. The things that happened to them didn’t “Just Happen”. It was arranged.

I can’t ask you to enjoy what I’ve written, but I hope you read it and feel emotions.

In the park where you had taken shelter from Hydra, you were now trapped by them. You and Chance were unable to escape and Chisei Gen now stood over Chance while you hid behind a Buddha statue, still out of sight. You’re not sure what to do. While you were strong and fast and clever. Chisei Gen was stronger and faster than you. There wasn’t much cover, it wouldn’t be a lot of time before he found you. All you had was your deadpool claw dagger, but the sword Onimaru could even cut through that.

Chisei Gen loomed over the trembling whimpering Chance. “I’m only going to ask you once. Where is Ruri Kazama?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” He held out his hands, pleading and in a flash of light, one of his fingers disappeared. 

Chance’s agonized screams drove you to press your fingers into the ground. You didn’t care if you toppled a few buildings. You would use your Soul Skill if you had to make this stop! You just needed Chance to hang on for a few seconds. Just a few seconds!

“I’m telling the truth!” Chance clutched his wrist and fell to his side. Wide-eyed with terror, sweating with pain, he gasped. “After Ryoma Sakurai died, information stopped coming from up top. I didn’t even know Kazama was going to show up in town until he was there! I swear!”

You close your eyes tighter, the tendrils of spiritual energy pierce the ground, racing to gather and spread. Then your head is pulled up on your neck!  You're pulled up by your hair. You have to stand on tip toe to relieve the pressure on your scalp. A smooth slimy voice chuckles. “Oh ho ho… Hey boss! I found a little rabbit!”

Your eyes go wide. If he saw your face… Thinking quickly, you pull the golden comb out of your hair to release your bangs. They descend like a waterfall over your eyes.

“No! Let her go! Please!” Through your dark locks, Chance furiously tries to reach for the dagger in his leg.

“If you pull that out, you’ll bleed to death.” The mocking voice from behind you reminded you so much of the pantysniffer. “Oo… she’s young too… Boss, when you’re done with this guy can I have her?”

Chance’s face twists with anger but you meet his eyes and give a little shake of your head.

“I don’t care, Yasha.” Chisei turned back to Chance. “You’re Inuyama Ichirou, a Rank A hybrid, Code: Orange. You’ll lose control at any time, but you’ve evaded our tracking and have gone unmonitored…”

“I haven’t killed anyone!” Chance gasps from the ground. “I just worked as a prostitute and cater to clientele who like it rough. It’s what I do. It’s how I satisfy it. It’s all consensual.” True to his nature, Chance let out a laugh even though he could see his reflection in that blade that had killed so many of his fellow hybrids.

Yasha turns to you and you stay still to try maintain your focus on your soul skill, but your temper and fury rises. Your eyes glittered like hard black stones behind your hair. Yasha whispers in your ear. “You like it rough too huh?”

You didn’t just need to stay still for your sake, you needed to stay still for Chance’s. If Chance tried to fight Chisei, it would be over before you could do anything. You look at Chance again and shake your head.

“Huh!” Yasha’s eyes widened slightly. “A brave one.”

“Despite that…” Chisei continues slowly, sending an annoyed glance at Yasha. “I can’t just let you go. You need to be monitored.”

“Please… don’t kill me. Don’t send me to prison. I’ll live quietly, like I always have. I’ve always lived quietly. And… “ A tear slipped down his cheek. “I love her. I love her. Please.” He fell at Chisei’s feet, bowing until his forehead touched the ground. “Let us go to Hokkaido.” He turned to you. “Let’s go to Hokkaido. There’s a lot of snow there. We’ll go and we’ll get married in the snow.”

“Okay.” You say, softly, staying still. Your voice is gentle and sweet, in contrast to the brutal scene. “I’ll marry you in Hokkaido.”

Despite his fear and the pain crashing through him, Chance smiled through his tears. “Good. That’s good. Then in that case, I will renounce all ties to the Devil Clan!”

Chisei doesn’t say anything but the tip of his sword lowers. “Sakura. Go tell the others to finish searching the car. Yasha, let the girl go and go with her.”

Yasha let out a sad little whimper and released your hair. You sink down to the ground and the rest of your hair forms a curtain around your face. The flowers tilt askew, still hanging on by just their pins. Yasha stuffs his hands in his pockets and slouches sullenly as he ambles down the path out of sight.

“I will need your information so I can track you.” Chisei kneels next to Chance and Chance stares in wonder as Chisei pulls a handkerchief from his trenchcoat to wrap his hand where he’s now missing a finger.

Tears were already flowing down Chance’s face and now they became a torrent. “I want my nieces and nephews back! They took the children! I can’t go without them too!”

Chisei calmly ties the wound with a stiff knot.. “From where?”

“From the Residential District in Tokyo. The one that burned. My brothers fought so the kids wouldn’t be taken. They’re all orphans now… so they were taken to the prisons.”

Chisei let out a breath and then he nodded. “Alright. Give me a list of their names. Once you get to Hokkaido, I’ll have them released to you. But you have to stay monitored. That’s all I ask.” Chisei stands up and starts wiping his sword with a cloth.

Chance is shaking but he’s slowly returning to his confidence. He turned to you and smiled. Your chest swells with pride. Not only could Chance save you, but also what remained of his family.

Chance reached into his jacket and pulled out a vial of purple liquid. When you see it and when Chisei sees it, you both gasp. You remembered this vial from the man with the stripe suit who had used it to turn into a monster to fight Caesar. You never thought that Chance would be holding a vial of such deadly poison. No wonder he cried so much in your arms when you told him to live! He was holding a suicide pill right in his hand!

“I was planning on using this if we got in a pinch… but not any more.” Chance said gently.

“Who gave you that!” Chisei hissed. He had gone pale faced, his expression taut. His hand tightens on his blade.

“I don’t know. It was next to my head when I woke up one morning. Whoever left it, left a note saying I was at the end of my life and I should use my time to dance brightly.” His eyes narrowed in hatred as he held it up. “...like a moth in the flames…” He threw it hard into the pea gravel. The vial shattered and the purple liquid seeped into the ground.

Chisei lunged forward, brandishing his sword. You leap to your feet and rush to meet him.

From the shadow of the trees in the park, a muzzle of a gun flashes and the bullet that should have struck Chance in the heart, shatters across the sword Onimaru! The shrapnel sparkled in the air like gold dust and scattered onto the ground.

You skid to a halt and a bullet whizzes just by your head! 

Chisei snarled, crouching over a stunned Chance, his body blocking him from the hidden shooter. His eyes are dark with rage. “I knew it!”

You thought Chisei was attacking Chance, but Chisei was protecting him!

You both spot the hidden assassin at the same time. He’s lying low in the bushes in dark camouflage and had to have been watching the entire scene.

The assassin pops the cork off his own vial of the elixir and upends it into his mouth. Immediately, black vines crawl up his arms and neck, followed by shining white scales. His fingers extended beyond the limits of known life and his face shrunk into something monstrous!  He leaps directly at Chisei, clearing the distance in a single bound, screaming like a wild thing. Chisei moves aside just enough to allow the claw to scratch his cheek. He only lifts the tip of the sword slightly. The momentum of the newborn dead pool carries it into the tip, slides him all the way down the blade, to the hilt. Chisei doesn’t waste time or words. He raises his foot and kicks the would-be assassin to the ground, stands over him and stabs him once through the neck. With a single twist, you hear the vertebrae snap.

Chisei looks at Chance coldly, waving his sword once and splashing the black blood into the grass. “The Devil Clan is exploiting the desperation of its members when it's giving them that poison. This is the third time this has happened. First was with Akira Sakurai, the lab experiment who helped create this vile liquid. Second was Ryoma Sakurai who drank it to end her life at the Paradisio. The person giving it to them intends for them to die. Each time, they talk about moths… and flames… when I find out who is behind that toxin, I will kill him myself.”

Chance’s hands balled into fists. “But it’s you Hydra who are driving us to desperation. You’re not excused!”

“Chance… let’s go…” You move next to him to try to help him up. You want Chisei to let you go while you have the chance and while he still doesn’t recognize you.

“You should go quickly. That assassin was a Devil Clan member hidden among our ranks. Get tickets to Hokkaido. I’ll provide a safe place for you until this is all over. I’m afraid you won’t be able to trust anyone else.”

“MC…” Chance looks at you, whispering earnestly. “Do I get a star-heart?” He chuckles low in his throat.

You laugh that he’s still thinking of that silly game. “Of course you get a star heart. You can have all the star-hearts.”

He stands up and then suddenly pulls you to him. He holds you close, pressing his body against yours. His breathing accelerates like he’s just run a marathon. He kisses you but it’s not like the kiss from before. This is more like Z’s forceful, penetrating kiss but ten times more aggressive. His fingertips press into your back hard, so hard they might leave bruises. And then his fingers send sharp pangs into your back, like the nails have turned to needles. You want to scream. Your eyes widen and you try to pull away but his grip is so tight now, you feel as though your bones might break. When you look into his eyes, they’re blood shot and then they blaze golden!

Even though Chance didn’t take the molotov cocktail, the dragon blood in his body has been raging all his life, like the fuse on a bomb. He knew the eventuality and had maintained his human nature for a long time. But now, the excitement of freedom, of love, the smell of blood and the adrenaline of violence had pushed him over the edge. He wasn't losing control because of poison, he was losing control by his own nature!

Chisei’s attack was swift, and Chance turned to defend himself. Bone claws had started to grow from his hands just like they did with the assassin, but it was your bronze dagger that flashed up in an arc and sent Chisei staggering back. He stared at you, wide eyed, finally getting a good look at your face through your hair and makeup. “MC?!”

A look of horror passes over his face. He had wanted to get to know you over sake, but instead, you’d seen him torture and nearly kill the man you loved.

You don’t care about Chisei, you rush to Chance who’s clutching his head and staggering, moaning loudly in pain.

“Chance!” You grab his shoulders and look into his face, pleading. “Chance, you have to live, do you hear me? You have to fight it! Fight!”

His eyes flicker from green to gold and he stares at you in fear. “I’m trying…” 

He falls to one knee and you follow him down, your hands sliding down his arms. You try to keep eye contact as he swayed like someone drunk..

“Chance, you have to live. You have to live. Please… please remember.” You glance back at Chisei. His sword is low and his eyes are dull and empty as he looks at you. 

He doesn’t look like he’s going to attack. You turn back to Chance. “You can’t lose it now. You can’t!”

“I don’t want to…” He sobs. “I’m...so… close.” The dark veins on his hands slowly start to retract and the scales stop their progression. His will to live and to love you is so strong that the dragonization process has halted. He meets your gaze with sparkling green eyes. “I love you.”

You cradle his face in your hands and smile at him, lovingly. “You’re doing it!” You turn back to Chisei, face radiant. “He’s doing it!”

Chisei doesn’t share your enthusiasm. A heavy sadness has fallen over the man and he doesn’t move.

You look at Chance again, willing the scales to fall, willing the veins to retract. You shake his shoulders to rouse him. “I told you. You can live.”

“We’ll get married in Hokkaido.” He says, his eyes lidding half closed. He sounds sleepy, overcome with incredible weariness. “In the snow.”

“Yes.” You nod.

“We’ll raise my nephews and nieces.”

“Yes!” You laughed, tears of joy ran from your eyes.

“I’m… so happy…” He rests his head against your chest and you lightly stroke his hair. You press your lips against his head and close your eyes. For a moment, you hug him like a mother would soothe a child after a terrible nightmare. “Just focus… focus on getting better.”

“...Bye…” His voice is scarcely above a whisper.

Your eyes snap open. He pushes you to the ground and the claws rip across your dress. The delicate lace floats into the steady breeze. You’re on your back, looking up as the darkness of the sky surrounds the bright golden eyes of the person who was once Chance - Inuyama Ichirou. There was no human there, only a vicious animal. His hand closed on your throat.

You should have fought, but your training didn’t kick in. Your mind is completely blank. His face is withering away inches from yours. His skin is turning a sickly grey-green. But you don’t want to use your dagger. Or your soul skill. You want him to stop. To fight it.

In that moment, a strong arm wraps around Chance’s throat like a python and pulls him back. In the next instant, the bright blue sword pierces from his back through his chest, sending blood raining down on your hair, your face, your dress.

Chance flails wildly, gasping. “Wait… wait!” 

“Wait!” You cry. His eyes are green again. Chance was still fighting!

Chisei lets him fall however. He turns him over on his back with his foot. Chance can no longer speak, gurgling blood rising up out of his mouth.

“Stop!” You leap and take hold of Chisei’s sword arm in an attempt to disarm him but his elbow slams into your chest so hard your feet come out of your slippers, you sail through the air and land so hard on the ground you’re stunned breathless.

When you sit up, Chance is struggling, gagging against the sword in his neck. Chisei retracts it and he lays still.

You can’t even scream. You run even though it's too late. Your spirit feels out of your body and the ringing in your ears makes the world go completely silent. You don’t remember falling next to Chance, but in the next instant you’re cradling his head, rocking back and forth like the abandoned Izanami. You can feel the warmth of the blood soaking into your fine hanfu.

The scales leave Chance’s pale face and the skin left there is perfect, like a child’s skin. He looks beautiful. But he’s dead. He would never open his eyes again, speak to you again, or kiss you. You’re not getting married in Hokkaido and his relatives would languish in prison. You thought you had it. You thought you could defy the world. But the world is too cold and cruel to you to grant you such happiness.

You remove your tattered silk shawl from your shoulders and press it into the wounds. There’s so much blood that the thin fabric seems to dissolve into it. You turned to Chisei who was still pale, his jaw was clenched as he looked at you with a dull, heavy depression. 

The sky above you had grown darker and darker and now it finally opened up, releasing a flooding torrent from above that soaks you in cold rain. You gather yourself up to your feet.

“You murderer…” You point at him with one pale hand, your dark hair plastered on your face. “Killer!”

Lightning flashes and thunder snaps through the air as though the judgement was sustained by God.

Chisei shook his head slowly. “He was gone…” His voice is soft, but despite his attempt to be firm with you, the words were trembling.

“No!”

Chisei freezes. You’ve flung the shawl at him. The blood flies in an arc and you paint Chisei with it, like Jackson Pollock flinging paint on a canvas. It splashes up and down his white shirt and dark pants. “His blood…” You breathe the words in and out in fury. “His blood is red!”

Chisei looks down and palms the stain on his shirt. It was crimson without a trace of black.

“Chance was still fighting! He didn't give up! He didn’t die because it was hopeless. He died because you gave up on him!” You fling the shawl at him again.

Chisei flinches away from the rain of blood. His expression relaxes and the cold emotionless look returns to his eyes. He turns his back to you. “MC. You’re still wanted by the Executive Board. But… if you run… I’ll give you a head start.”

You gasp in disbelief at such bold insensitivity. The remorselessness struck you colder than the rain. However, the shock reminds you that there’s no point in fighting once the person you love is gone. Instead, you remove the gold chains from Chance's neck and give him one last lingering look. He looks like he’s sleeping peacefully there in the rain. You hold the chains tight to yourself and dash away towards the gate. You clear it in a single bound and disappear into the night.

#Dragon Raja

[luna-jaden-shadow]

no. 13 Breathe In Breathe Out

Prompts - | Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask |

Angst/Fluff

Warning - Character Death, Near Death Experience,

Pairing(s) - Jonathan Crane X Villain!Reader

-><-

-><-

It was an accident. A chemical spill that occurred when a rat got out of the cage and ran across the lab table and knocked down a vial or two. You didn’t even notice, too busy with working on fixing your own tech and get up you didn’t even notice the greenish brown fog that was seeping all the way from the lab into your work room.

The front door opens and borderline slams closed. “Y/n.” A voice calls out, making you smile and put down what you’re working on before walking out of your room. A shiver finds its way down your spine as you walk down the dark hallways that leads towards the main room. “Where are you my love?” He calls once more, prompting you to pick up your speed and appear in the main room, dusting the residue from your work off of your hands. 

Standing in the middle of the room is Jonathan still in his Scarecrow get up. “Hey.” You flash him a smile, waiting for him to take off the mask. “You okay?” Concern hits you when he doesn’t say anything or even look in your direction. Suddenly, his head lulls to the side as though he was asleep in your direction. “Jonathan?” You reach out slowly, jumping with a yell when he suddenly grabs your arm. ‘That’s not funny.” You try to pull your arm out of his grip but it was too tight. “Jonathan stop.” You laugh a bit, thinking maybe this is a joke, you always joke around with him. 

Before you could say anything else, your forcefully thrown away from him, hitting the wall. When you crash to the floor on your knees you’re on the blacktop of a street in the heart of the city. There’s glass in your hands, you can feel the sting as you push yourself up. Weren’t you just in the house? You scrambled to the sidewalk after almost being hit by a car that was speeding by, horn blaring. 

All the big screens on the buildings shifted, showing off Jonathan, still in his scarecrow get up. “Pathetic.” His voice carries through the normally loud city of Gotham. “Thinking the bat will save you, that he can help you. That you have nothing to fear. But fear, fear will always be around.” He goes on this lond rant before it’s static and cuts to black In the middle of the street when you look are no longer cars but Jonathan, fighting Batman. You find yourself frozen on the sidewalk, none of your gear on you to help the king of fear in this fight. Even if you wanted to your body wouldn’t move at all. 

“Jonathan.” You call out, your voice barely pushing itself past a whisper. But he heard it, and he looked in your direction, giving the Bat enough time to get the upper hand. A scream left you as you watch Batman snap his neck. Jonathan’s body drops to the ground, limp. You’re shaking as you cry and scream, now able to move and you go running to the body of your lover. “No, no, no.” You mumble, pulling him onto his back so that his head is in your lap. “Please, open your eyes. Please.” 

The shadow of the Bat looms over you two. You’re pulled up by Batman, his hand around your throat. No matter how much you claw and kick, he just lifts you by the neck till your feet can’t touch the floor. “Y/n.” His voice haunts you as you pull at the gloved hand wrapped tightly around your throat. Your airway’s being cut off more with every passing second. You can feel your heart rate pick up to painful levels, like you’re having a heart attack in his hold. 

The normal black void of the eyes of his mask now glow orange. “Stop.” You gasp out, lungs burning and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. Your name’s called again like a chant, a taunt even. “Please.” Your vision grows darker until there’s nothing but the echo of Jonathan’s voice calling out to you. 

The next sound you hear is the soft buzzing and humming of fans. There’s quick steps being made and you feel cold, unnaturally cold wherever you are. When you finally decide on opening your eyes you’re met with the pacing figure of Jonathan, finally out of his get up. “Y/n.” He breathes out, rushing to you where you now lay, in your bed. There’s an oxygen mask that he keeps around for emergencies like this strapped onto your face. You’re hooked up to a heart monitor that’s only now slowing down what you could guess to be your own rapid heart beat. “Are you okay?” 

Through teary eyes you look at him, biting your lip as flashes of everything still haunt the back of your mind. You just shake your head, reaching out to him. He doesn’t hesitate to sit beside you in the bed, letting you hold onto him like a child would after a nightmare. He went on to explain that he came home to see the mist of his fear toxin had coated the inside of the house. When he found you, you were on the floor in your work room, spasming and screaming. Had he been any later there’s a real possibility that you may have died. That was what really had you tightening your grip on his sweater, bread buried in his neck.  

#whumptober2020 #no. 13 #breath in breath out #delayed drowning #chemical pneumonia #oxygen mask #fic #fanfic #character death tw #near death experience tw #fear toxin #fear gas #jonathan crane x reader #Jonathan Crane #jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane drabble #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow imagine #scarecrow drabble #Gotham #Gotham x reader #batman

[98prilla]

Changing Tides

Next

AO3

So I started this like six months ago, forgot about, picked it up two months ago, forgot about it, and am working on it once more! I know it’s almost the end of May, but this still counts, and I did promise some Mer content! This is gonna end up being a long one, I can tell you that already.

...

         He was in the water. He couldn’t tell which way was the surface, he was being tossed around by the currents like a leaf in a breeze. His lungs were already burning for air, he couldn’t see, the salt stung his eyes, and he gasped as he was slammed against a reef, pain lancing up his shoulder. Instinctually he inhaled, choking on water, gagging and only inhaling more as he flailed. The current grabbed him again, scraping him against the jagged coral, snagging onto his arm before the current tried to throw him head over heels out into the open ocean, screaming as he felt bone snap, before finally being pulled out past the reef.

He felt unbearably heavy. He was vaguely aware of sinking, of falling deeper into the cold water, past the depths of the storm tossed waves, happy to just sink downwards, and let the current take him.

 He could taste copper in his mouth, bright spots the only thing he could see, and distantly he realized he was going to drown. It really wasn't that bad.

           And there was music. Serene, beautiful music, that made him smile even as water choked his lungs, soothing him with warmth. He wanted to stay in that music, forever.

           He felt something wrap around him, triggering his sluggish instincts as he struggled, feeling it grasp tighter as he realized he was speeding through the water, faster than any current he’d ever heard of.

           He was aware of air on his face, of being placed gently on rough stone, something prodded at his chest and he let out a choked gasp, coughing up buckets of seawater, hacking until his throat burned and he’d curled into a ball.

           He was shaking with cold and pure exhaustion, his clothes were obviously soaked and the sea breeze sent chills through every pore. He tried to push himself up, but fell back down with a pained whimper, his shoulder giving out under him. His hand came away red. He heard something, words he couldn’t understand, saw something large towering over him with orange eyes, and he tried to push himself backwards, away from the thing.

           It reached out to him, and he scrambled back farther into the cave, breath coming fast and sharp, eyes wide with fear. He was working on primal instincts. Large meant predator. Human meant predator. He winced again, breathing hitched from pain.

         “English?” That word cut through his haze, and his head shot up, locking onto the creature’s for a quick second before darting his gaze away. “You understood that!” It exclaimed, voice echoing through the small space, making him flinch back even further, not that there was anywhere to go. The cave sloped down into the water, and sloped up maybe five feet. Still within easy reach of It.

           “No, no, it’s ok, I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise! I need to go get someone who can help, but I’ll be right back, ok?” The thing hesitated waiting for a response, perhaps, but he’d already slumped over, unconscious and trembling. The merman let out a worried breath, before vanishing under the waves.

…

         He swam fast and hard, practically crashing through the large kelp forest that led into his friend’s underwater cave. He needed him to be home, he doubted the mer would go out in this weather.

           “Logan! Lo!” He called, looking around. The cave was also filled with kelp, though it was kept trimmed and tidy, only two to three feet tall, except for the back where Logan usually slept. On the left side of the cave, there were shelves carefully crafted of driftwood that held all manner of human artifacts. The right held makeshift nests and an artificial reef, where Logan helped rehabilitate or shelter injured or orphaned sea life he came across.

           “Roman, would you please quiet down? You’re upsetting them. Not to mention me.” Logan grumbled, emerging from the kelp, swimming over to the reef and soothing an eel who had peeked his head out, then rubbing the head of a sea turtle.

           Wheareas Roman had the white spotted blue tail of a Whale Shark, and shared its larger size, maybe 24 feet head to tail, Logan was closer to the human’s size. He was about 6 feet in length, his tail the black and gray striped and spotted of a Reef Shark, one gray fin emerging from his back as well.

           “Sorry, I know, but I need help.” Logan’s attention snapped to his friend, the worry clear in his voice. Something was hurt, that’s the only reason he’d be this anxious.

           “Let’s go.”

 …

         “No.” Logan said flatly, arms crossed.

           “Lo, please, you know I don’t have that power.” Roman pleaded, but Logan looked unmoved.

           “He’s a human. Do you know how many animals I find, tangled in their nets, starved, injured, drowned? Turtles choking on plastic bags they mistook for jelly fish, fish filled with toxins, dead spots in the ocean where nothing can survive, all because of them? They cut off shark’s fins then toss them back in the ocean to die. They throw explosives into whales to kill them for their oil. One less should not be mourned.” Logan replied, eyes flashing.

           “He’s just a kid, though. He didn’t do anything wrong! They were whale watching, I saw the boat. I let them see my tail and they got so excited!” Logan looked at him disapprovingly.

           “you shouldn’t take that risk. If they saw the rest of you-“ His attention was stolen by the human huddling in the back corner of the cave. He didn’t seem awake, quite, but he was talking.

           “I’m sorry… please… I didn’t mean it… I’ll do better… don’t” the human flinched, as if he’d been struck. “sorry, sorry, I’m sorry…” he whimpered, curling tighter against himself. Roman sucked in a breath, looking once again to Logan.

           The mer’s tail flicked uncertainly as he looked at the waterlogged human, drifting closer to the shore to assess him a bit more closely. His sweater was overly large, hanging down to almost halfway down his thighs, the arms pulled over his hands. He’d pulled the hood tight around his head. His dark pants were a bit faded, worn, his sneakers battered so he could see a toe poking through the front of one shoe, the sole separating from the other. He was too thin, too and he could see the dark bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep. It was clear whatever humans this child was under the care of were not very nurturing.

           “Please Lo? I know most of them don’t deserve it but… he’s so small.” Logan could see what he meant. It wasn’t just that the human was physically smaller than the whale mer, it was how it was curled up tight, how even unconscious it was afraid, how it had clearly been hurt by its own kind. Only humans could be that cruel to their young, and it made him furious. Finally he sighed, face softening.

           “Alright. You’ll have to bring him closer.” He relented. Roman swished forwards, sitting on the rocky shore, tail dangling in the water, as he very carefully scooped up the small human in his large hands. The poor thing was too weak to even try and fight him this time, merely letting out a small hiss and clenching his fists tight as Roman lowered him just above the water level before Logan.

           Carefully, Logan peeled the sweater off the boy, placing it on the shore. Then he turned back to the human, wincing in sympathy at his injuries. His shoulder was torn open, angry red scrapes across the entirety of his back. He had a large lump on the back of his head, and his hair was matted with blood. He noted a multitude of old bruises on his wrists, a faded yellow bruise across his cheek. There was also a multitude of new, dark purple splotches across his body. Most alarmingly, the boy’s right arm was bent at unnatural angle at the elbow, the bone snapped clean in half, part of it sticking out through the skin.

           Logan carefully held his hands over the boy’s chest, ignoring his wince and inhale of breath. He let his power flow through him and out of his hands, a soft green glow enveloping the human. Slowly, his shoulder healed, leaving not even a scar, the bruises vanished, the scrapes healed. Only the arm was left.

           “I have to set this back in place before I can heal it. It’s going to hurt… a lot. He’s not going to like it, but it’s necessary. I’m going to need you to hold him still.” Logan said seriously, looking up at Roman, who had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time. Roman nodded, shifting the human so he was laying flat across one of his hands. With the other he pressed carefully down against the human, making sure he wasn’t pushing too hard, fingers splayed so that his head was exposed.

           “Ready.” Logan nodded, gripping the human’s arm, carefully guiding the bone back into place.

           “It’s ok, it’s ok, I know, it hurts, I know, but you’ll be better in a sec.” Roman soothed, feeling the human trying to thrash underneath his hand. His brown eyes snapped open as he let out a strained shout.

           Logan held the bone in place, green flowing from his hands as he felt his way through the bone structure, rebuilding the joint and muscle tissue, repairing the ligaments and torn structures, rebuilding the bone strength, finally letting go with a sigh.

           “Done.” Logan backed up, uncomfortable now that the human was awake, and had seen him. He avoided them when at all possible, he wasn’t the show off that Roman was. He loved flouncing for boats, singing whale song to them. He could sing siren songs as well, ones so beautiful any human would gladly drown themselves for it, but Roman was too fond of the land walkers to use that power, too gentle to sing when there was any risk of humans hearing him.

           The human was now struggling against Roman’s grasp, who was doing his best to calm it, but the human seemed to be too afraid or disoriented to listen. The human managed to escape Roman’s hands, and splashed into the water. He floundered for a moment, before Roman lifted him to the shore, where he collapsed in a sputtering, shivering heap.

           “Oh goodness, are you alright? I’m sorry we scared you, but it was the only way to get you fixed up.” Roman explained, consciously keeping his voice soft so as not to startle it.

           “What… who… are you?” He choked out, arms hugging himself tightly, scooting so he was once again leaning against the back wall, knees pulled to his chest.

           “I’m Roman, that’s Logan. We are merpeople.”

           “Specifically, I am a Reef Shark mer, and Roman is a Whale Shark mer, hence his size.”

           “Oh great I’m surrounded by giant shark people, look if you’re gonna eat me or kill me or whatever, can you just do it? You might as well, not like anyone’ll miss me anyway.” He muttered the last sentence under his breath, shivering harder as he hugged his chest. The two mers exchanged a glance.

           “We have no intent to eat you, or otherwise do you any harm.” Logan answered, tentatively. “I healed your injuries as best I could, though you may still feel some soreness in your arm as that was a rather severe injury. You may also be light headed as you did lose a lot of blood, not to mention nearly drowning.”

           “fine. I’m… I’m fine… I guess. This is crazy, I’m probably hallucinating, but I’m sure it’s fine.” He whispered, rocking back and forth on his heels.

           He was shaking. At this point he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or pain or cold, but it didn’t seem to matter at this point. Either this was real, and he was in a random ocean cave with two mermen or he was drowning in the ocean and this was his brain’s final death throes. He couldn’t quite decide which was worse.

           “What’s wrong with him?” He heard Roman ask distantly.

           “He’s too cold. Humans don’t have the resistance to cold that we do. Our bodies regulate it like any other ocean creature, but they aren’t built to withstand it. We need to get him properly dried and warmed, or he’ll get hypothermia.” His teeth were chattering, and darkness was closing in once again. He barely cared as he felt Roman scoop him up once again. He looked up tiredly as Roman held him close to his face.

           “I know you’re scared right now. I know you have no reason to trust us.” He hesitated, “I know the other humans didn’t treat you very well, so there’s no reason to believe we would be kind either. But I promise we’re going to help you. I promise I won’t let anything hurt you. I’m going to swim very fast with you, and I’m going to cup you in my hands so you’ll stay as dry as possible. I promise I won’t crush you. Ok?” Roman asked, looking at the human for any sign of aquiescence.

           “Roman, what are you doing? We should hurry before it gets worse.” Logan replied.

           “I want him to know what’s going on. It’s important he knows so he’s not scared. So he can decide to trust us.” Roman replied, looking back down at the kid. His eyes were closed, but he let out a long breath, nodding once. Roman cupped his hand over the human, heart cracking as he felt how hard the little thing was shaking, and how it clung to his hand for dear life.

           “The sea is still pretty rough. I’ll have to stay near the surface. Are you sure you want to come?” Roman asked, glancing at Logan.

           “Yes. You dragged me into this, I might as well see it through.” He replied, though Roman could tell he didn’t mean it harshly. If there was one thing Logan couldn’t stand it was creatures being abused or mistreated, and it was clear this human had been both. Without further ado, they swam out of the cave.

#sanders sides #mermay #merman logan #merman roman #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #child abuse #broken bones #injuries #protective roman #drowning #teen virgil #angst #virgil angst #eventual happy ending #hurt #some comfort

[cupidscrystals]

Hey! I hate to bother you, but I was wondering if you could expand on vampire lore behind Romulus? He’s a super interesting character and I’d love to hear more about vampires in the HP world!

:O !!! I’d love to! Here are some of the more important lore me and my good friend @meadowslittlebug came up with! Please go check her out, her art deserves more attention and she’s a wonderful person!

Vampires, Dhamphirs, and Vampire-borns

Two vampires who produce a child with the magic gene, this child called Vampire-born. This is the result of one or both parents having wizarding ancestry. If there’s no wizard ancestry in their bloodlines the child is called a Vampyr. The vampire-born and vampyr have a slow growing process, reaching the maturity of their bodies around 160 and 200 years old. They share the same traits as their turned brethren. A child of a human and a vampire or a human and a part vampire is called a Dhampir. Dhampir’s are only given to those who are at least ⅛ vampire. Some will always inherit vampiric traits such as sharp facial features, fangs, oddly coloured irises, an allergy to garlic and silver, and a repulsion to werewolves, but the rest of the vampiric traits are selected at random.

Aging

Newborns: They are newborn vampires. Their abilities are very limited.

Fledglings: They are Junior vampires a.k.a Vampires in training. A Fledgling learns how to control their thirst and hunting instincts along with gaining the ability to turn into a bat at will. Usually an older vampire is the mentor of the Fledglings and they can have more than one mentor. Mentors are usually the parents.

Matured: Fully grown vampires. They are the most common types of vampires found in the known world. They can turn other mortals into vampires.

Elder/Ancient: Vampires that are over 1000 years old, usually these ones are highly respected by the vampiric community, usually Elders hold positions of leadership. These are the ones that look less human-like and more like a real vampire.

[Picture: Top - Matured vampires, Bottom - Elder/Ancient vampire]

Vampires age MUCH slower than normal humans. 10 human years is equivalent to 1 vampire year.

Diet

Vampires can only drink blood. If they consume other kinds of food or drinks, their bodies will react violently until they expel all the contents. It was believed that human blood was necessary in the survival of Vampires, however vampires simply need blood, any kind of blood to keep their strength up. Such examples are animals. Human blood is just more nutritious and better tasting than animal blood. Vampires living on a diet of human blood will need to drink less than vampires living on a diet of animal blood.

Biology

• Vampires possess anticoagulant in their saliva that helps the blood keep flowing after the incision was done.

• Quick regeneration after an injury.

• They hiss at each other to mark dominance or as a warning sound.

• During their first few centuries they can reproduce, but after that period of time they become sterile and only can turn humans into vampires.

• Vampires can live without drinking blood for a couple weeks, but if the being haven’t consumed blood in a while, their appearance will age quickly and look more like a living corpse and more prone to act feral.

• Instead of water-based tears, vampires cry blood tears.

• Some vampires can have black scleras. Mostly the older generations, however it can be passed down.

[Picture: Black scleras]

• No vampire or part vampire has brown eyes. The only vampires that can have brown eyes are the ones that were turned. This is the #1 technique used to identify true vampires and human-turned vampires. True vampires can have eye colours ranging from blue, green, red, pink, orange, and purple. They NEVER have yellow eyes as that is a distinguishing feature of werewolves and part werewolves.

[Picture: Vampire eye colours]

• Enhanced senses.

• Enhanced strength, speed and agility.

• Being able to float and fly unassisted.

• Able to shoot plasma balls, this skill must be trained and only temporarily paralyzes prey

• Sunlight doesn’t kill them but they get burned pretty badly, feeling as if they were being burned to the bone, they can regenerate when they are in the shadows again.

• Since they are nocturnal creatures they are very sensitive to any source of light and can be temporarily blinded.

• Can only be killed by a wooden stake to the heart

• Silver is a ‘pure’ metal and makes vampires get burned or have bad allergic reactions.

• A Werewolf bite can be fatal to vampires. The Toxin from the werewolf and the venom in the vampire blood cause a reaction that makes the vampire deteriorate and die.

• Crucifixes and holy symbols is ambiguous, they produce a cringey effect in vampires but also there’s also a few that likes to see crucifixes, usually those have an inclination for liking the suffering.

• Poisoned or disease ridden blood ( sickness or toxic substances) will give the vampire a stomach ache.

Races & Branches

Humanoid: The newest generation of vampires, with their attractive features some can mingle between humans unnoticed, and some may resemble a typical vampire that it’s very obvious. Characterized for having pale skin, bright and odd eye coloration, fangs, as well as sharp features. (ex: European vampires, Jiangshi)

[Picture: 1 - Humanoid vampires, 2 - a Jiangshi (Chinese vampire) and European vampire just vibing]

Ancient: One of the oldest generation of vampires. They are older than 1000 years old. Around the age of 1000 their bodies change to a less humanoid features and have features such as longer ears, balding, bigger and longer fangs. Due to their age, ancient vampires are more reclusive compared to other races and don’t interact fully with the outer world. They wait until their prey is close enough to ambush.

[Picture: Ancient/Elder vampires]

Feral: Vampiric beast-like monsters or creatures that attack without distinction at humans and animals alike. Usually is known for attacking livestock. Some examples of these creatures are the Sasabonsam and the Chupacabras.

[Picture: Left - Sasabonsam, Right - Chupacabra]

History

Before 1811 (or early 1800s) , humans and wizards alike used to hunt vampires for sport. They mainly targeted the old and elderly vampires (over 1000 years old) and would bring home their decapitated heads as a trophy. The reason behind this was because the older vampires looked less human like than the younger generations do so it was easier for Muggles and Wizards to see them as an non-human entity. Most of the older vampires they slaughtered were of high position as they were elders, kings, queens, and other members of the royal vampire court. Because of the fact that vampires are immortal and time passes way differently in their perception, a lot of vampires today are still enraged at wizard kind because they were alive before they made vampire slaying illegal.

During the 1700s, the fear of vampires were at its highest point. People were stabbing the recently deceased with wooden stakes to prevent them from potentially turning into vampires and were insanely paranoid about them. They did all they could to protect themselves and their families from vampires. Vampire slaying was also at its peak, especially since wizarding ministries were promising people rewards of 200 galleons PER VAMPIRE slain. The vampire community combated this with trying to turn as many humans and wizards into one of their own in an attempt to repopulate and give them a taste of what it feels like to be treated badly. This is an extremely important time in history and is addressed as The Great Vampire Revolt. Again, most vampires alive in the present day were alive when all of this took place.

Given the frictions between the vampire and mortal community in the past, having relationships between both communities was frowned upon. If a vampire married a mortal, the vampire must make a choice, turn their loved one or must abandon the vampire community until the spouse is dead. However their offspring was well received, but part human part vampire offspring are pretty rare in present day. Other reasons as to why they are not common is because of the biological differences between the human and vampire causing problems conceiving or early infant hood death.

Monarchy

A Vampire Monarchy is a vampire who rules over a country. The vampires of a country form the Vampire Monarch’s Kingdom or Queendom. It is overseen by the Monarch, who also has authority over his or her vampire subjects. Although the countries are under complete reign by their individual monarch, they still remain under the jurisdiction of the Vampire Council in the Vampire Hierarchy.

The Vampire Council was a clandestine council that is composed of eight of the most politically powerful vampires in the known world. It is the ultimate authority over all vampires across the globe, overseeing matters of both religious and political purview in relation to the vampire population. It was worshiped by many and feared by even more.

[Picture: Members of the vampire council]

A vampire is granted the title of king or queen if they are in line for the throne and the current king or queen passes away or abdicated the throne. Upon the death of the reigning monarch, the Vampire Council will appoint a new king or queen. Vampires can also earn titles such as duke and duchess, baron and baroness (or thane), viscount and viscountess, count and countess (or earl), baronet and baroness, imperial knight and lady, or gentleman and gentry. by doing a very significant or impressive act to be granted a title. These royal titles can vary and differ depending on geographical locations.

Vampire Academies

Since the vampire population is much lower than the wizards there are not that many educational institutions for them to attend. The only ones we came up with so far is that there is one in Transylvania, Romania, Russia, and China.

Fun Facts

• Some may say that they have a ‘not giving a shit’ way of life and only care for their interests and brethren. For example they are not phased by murders of species out of their own kind (I mean they’ve been drinking the blood of humans since the beginning of time), one’s sexuality, or most things deemed dangerous by mortals. After all they gave bigger thing to worry about, like how they’re gonna acquire their next meal and figuring out how to enter places without being invited inside.

• Their pupils are slit shaped and the iris in different bright colors

• They can’t be killed by the killing curse, only stabbing them through the heart with a wooden stake (preferably made from wood of a peach tree. Any other wood will result in a slower death while peach tree wood will cause an instant death)

• There’s a vampire transcontinental championship where vampires from all over the world compete to see who’s the fastest flyer. For centuries, Asia has been taking first place.

• They sleep with their arms crossed over their chest. It doesn’t matter if they’re hanging upside down or in a coffin or laying on a couch, they’ll always end up in that position.

• They can hang upside down from any ceiling

Alright, that’s only a small part of what we have come up with, but if you have any questions about ANY of the lore or vampires in the HP universe in general, feel free to shoot me an ask!

Picture sources (I do not own any of these pics)

What We Do In The Shadows (2014)

Interview With a Vampire (1994)

https://pin.it/af6yidekumfffx

https://pin.it/cqa35xsnbcripc

https://pin.it/7upbmlapsy4ux3

https://pin.it/xxisghgdhy3qn2

https://pin.it/dpekjlnmh6xzfs

https://pin.it/ae2urdc3schf2q

https://pin.it/7en7bwce5uzm45

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https://pin.it/nzn43moq3rypeb

https://pin.it/efm7amzuam3fle

https://pin.it/4hzqh4tzpghgph

Vampire Kingdom

https://trueblood.fandom.com/wiki/Vampire_monarch

#harry potter #hp #hphm #hpma #wizarding world #vampire #vampire lore #hp headcanon #harry potter headcanon #wizarding world of harry potter #wizarding world lore #cupidscrystals #what we do in the shadows #wwdits

[the-white-trash-wheelborrow]

C-man Episode #01

C-MAN

Chapter One

C-man is the self proclaimed hero of the story. C-man was once an average individual like you and I, well almost. C-man was Clyde Atkings, a simple, tall obese man, who lived with his mother. Clyde eventually had to get a job at age 27 after his mother died and her social security ran out. Clyde was now a slick, in his mind, venetian blind salesman. His very bad temper and poor peoples skills helped him sell no blinds at all. After three years Clyde was in debt having sold nothing and was in need of escape. Escape for him was to throw himself in the path of an oncoming vehicle, a chemical truck. This truck was carrying very foul liquids on this day. After slamming into Clyde the truck veered off the road and tipped, pouring the toxins all over his mangled body. In a month Clyde was out of the hospital and as good as new, the chemicals had hastened his recovery. Although, Clyde had lost all grip on reality, and his IQ dropped 1/3, he has three times his original strength. Clyde thought for sure this was a blessing from Jesus himself, he vowed he would do good. Clyde was now C-man, short for Chemical man. C was easier to have printed on a T shirt. C-man found an apartment in his price range, a shed. C-man also found a sidekick Smart Bob. Smart bob is a 5’ 5” tall 95lbs little man. Smart Bob, whose real name is Robert Thimple, was found by C-man in a dumpster behind Burger King. Smart Bob was a former math teacher who lost everything after becoming addicted to sniffing super glue. C-man hoped Smart Bob could be the brains of the operation.

Volume #1

(C-man)

(C-MAN HAS JUST GOTTEN EVERYTHING SET UP THAT HE THINKS HE WILL NEED FOR THE FIGHTING OF CRIME. C-MAN HAS WHAT HE REFERS TO AS “HIS CRIME FIGHTING

HEADQUARTERS”, WHICH IS A SMALL TIN SHED ON A SMALL PIECE OF LAND IN A RUN DOWN PART OF TOWN. THIS IS ALSO WHERE HE LIVES. C-MAN HAS RAN AN AD IN THE PAPER TELLING OF HIS CRIME FIGHTING SERVICES. C-MAN AND HIS NEW, TRUSTY, SIDEKICK ARE SITTING BY THE PHONE WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO CALL)

C-MAN- this is great, I’m so excited, any minute now someone will call in need of our help

(FIVE HOURS LATER C-MAN IS STILL STARING AT THE PHONE. SMART BOB IS READING THE PAPER. C-MAN NOTICES SUPER GUY ON THE COVER PAGE OF THE PAPER AND YANKS IT AWAY FROM SMART BOB. SMART BOB TRIES TO TAKE THE PAPER BACK AND GETS BACKHANDED TO THE FLOOR)

C-MAN- who’s this silly bastard wearing the goofy clothing?

(SMART BOB PICKS HIMSELF UP OFF THE FLOOR AND SITS BACK IN HIS CHAIR)

SMART BOB- you’re not exactly color coordinated yourself.

(C-MAN LOOKS AT HIMSELF, HE IS WEARING ORANGE SHORTS, A CHEAP LOOKING T SHIRT THAT SAYS C-MAN ON IT, A CAPE MADE OUT OF A BED SHEET AND HIKING BOOTS, HE THEN LOOKS AT SMART BOB, HE IS DRESSED NORMAL EXCEPT HE IS WEARING A CHEAP T SHIRT THAT SAYS SB REAL BIG ON IT)

C-MAN- do you want to get more practice picking yourself up off the floor?

SMART BOB- no.

C-MAN- answer the fucking question then, geek.

SMART BOB- the guy in the paper is Super Guy.

C-MAN- I’ll just read this article and see what all the fuss is about.

SMART BOB- either that or wait till they come out with newspapers on cassette.

C-MAN- WATCH YOUR MOUTH!

(C-MAN TAKES SOME TIME TO READ THE ARTICLE)

C-MAN- DAMN HIM, with him always saving children from burning buildings and protecting old people from muggers. Nobodies going to need me! This guy is hard to beat, what makes him so popular, what’s he got that I haven’t got?

SMART BOB- well for starters, I doubt he lives in a tin shed.

C-MAN- Hey, it keeps the rain off your head... if you know where to stand, and besides, this is only temporary. What else makes him so special?

SMART BOB- He also has a cool car.

C-MAN- I have a car.

SMART BOB- It’s a pea green, 4 door, Rambler, and it smokes like hell. If you stopped driving it the pollution level in this city would go down 5%.

C-MAN- It just needs a tune up.

SMART BOB- It needs rings, a head gasket, a new transmission, a new body, new brakes. The door latches fixed, the three windows put back on track....

C-MAN- SHUT UP! I like that car, it was my grandma’s car. She gave it to me after she died.

SMART BOB- Did she choke to death in it?

C-MAN- I’m not going to warn you again, watch what you say. Lets get back to our problem. How are we going to beat Super Guy’s popularity?

SMART BOB- There’s no way we can compete, not with him around.

C-MAN- Oh, that settles it, that only leaves us one choice, we’ll just have to kill him.

SMART BOB- WHAT? Nobody has been able to hurt him. How are we going to stop him? The only thing that even affects him is aluminum.

C-MAN- I think you just answered you own question.

(THE NEXT DAY)

(SMART BOB IS DOWN TOWN STANDING ON THE SIDEWALK FACING A BUILDING. SUPER GUY FLIES UP AND LANDS BESIDE HIM)

SUPER GUY- Pardon me kind citizen. I couldn’t help noticing you urinating on the side of this public building. Could you explain yourself?

SMART BOB- Ya’, ugh sorry, I have a bladder control problem and I didn’t know where the nearest public restroom was.

SUPER GUY- An honest mistake, let me point one out to you, for future reference.

(SUPER GUY TURNS HIS BACK TO SMART BOB TO POINT OUT A NEARBY RESTROOM. AS SOON AS HE DOES C-MAN RUNS UP AND CLUBS SUPER GUY OVER THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH A PIECE OF ALUMINUM SIDING. AFTER SUPER GUY COLLAPSES C-MAN CONTINUES TO BEAT HIM UNTIL HE IS SURE THAT SUPER GUY IS DEAD)

C-MAN- That solved that.

(SMART BOB WIPES BLOOD OFF THAT WAS SPLATTERED ON HIS FACE WHILE SUPER GUY WAS BEING SAVAGELY BEATEN BY C-MAN)

SMART BOB- I just help you beat someone to death, I feel dirty.

(C-MAN PUTS HIS ARM AROUND SMART BOB’S SHOULDERS)

C-MAN- Come on... I’ll buy you some ice cream.

(SMART BOB’S EYES LIGHT UP)

SMART BOB- What about a Sunday?

C-MAN- I don’t have that kind of money. Check Super Guy’s pockets it may be his treat.

(SMART BOB CHECKS AND FINDS A TWENTY)

SMART BOB- Look, look, a twenty! Just like the rich people carry!

C-MAN- Well wipe all the blood off of it and lets go!

(THEY RUN OFF)

(A WEEK LATER)

(C-MAN HAS RAN A MUCH LARGER AD. THEY ARE WAITING BY THE PHONE WITH HIGHER HOPES. THE PHONE RINGS AND C-MAN QUICKLY ANSWERS IT.)

C-MAN- Ya’, ya’, okay.

(C-MAN HANGS UP THE PHONE)

SMART BOB- What was it?

C-MAN- It sounded like an old woman. She has a cat stuck in a tree again and the fire department is tired of going down there. This looks like a job for C-MAN!

(AT A RETIREMENT HOUSING AREA)

(A 90 YEAR OLD WOMAN IS STANDING OUT BY A TREE, LOOKING UP WORRIEDLY. C-MAN AND SMART BOB COME UP)

C-MAN- DO NOT FEAR C-MAN IS HERE!

OLD LADY- What did you say... you’re a queer?

(C-MAN BRINGS HIS FIST BACK GETTING READY TO KNOCK THE OLD LADY OUT. SMART BOB GRABS HIS FIST.)

SMART BOB- She probably can’t hear.

OLD LADY- What about deer?

C-MAN- This is already pissing me off.

SMART BOB- I SAID, YOU PROBABLY CAN’T HEAR!

OLD LADY- What?

(C-MAN POINTS UP TO THE TOP OF THE TREE. THE TREE IS FLIMSY AND ABOUT FIFTEEN FEET TALL)

C-MAN- YOUR CAT STUCK UP THERE?

OLD LADY- Of course not, my cat is stuck up there.

(THE OLD LADY POINTS TO THE EXACT SAME, TREE C-MAN LOOKS AT SMART BOB)

C-MAN- You should have let me punch here. She’s fucking with me.

OLD LADY- Could you get my kitty, I’ll pay whatever you want.

C-MAN- Okay, Smart Bob climb that tree and get the cat.

(SMART BOB STARTS TO CLIMB UP AND FALLS BACK DOWN AND THEN JUST LAYS THERE)

SMART BOB- I can’t move. It hurts.

C-MAN- I guess I’ll just have to do this myself.

(C-MAN CLIMBS ALMOST TO THE TOP OF THE TREE AND CAN ALMOST REACH THE CAT. THE TREE STARTS TO LEAN, IT BOWS OVER UNTIL IT SLAMS C-MAN’S BACK TO THE GROUND. C-MAN STILL HAS HOLD OF THE TREE AND IS TRYING TO GET THE CAT TO JUMP DOWN TO THE GROUND.)

C-MAN- Here kitty, come here.

(C-MAN LOOSES HIS GRIP ON THE TREE JUST AS THE CAT WAS READY TO JUMP OFF. THE TREE SPRINGS BACK UP TO IT’S ORIGINAL UPRIGHT POSITION AND CATAPULTS THE CAT ABOUT 500 FT AWAY. )

C-MAN- SHIT!

OLD WOMAN- Is there a problem, sonny?

C-MAN- NO! No problem at all. As soon as your cat calms down I’ll hand it back to you, I’ll be right back.

(C-MAN RUNS OVER TO HIS RAMBLER AND TAKES OUT A FUZZY THROW PILLOW THAT HAS BEEN IN THERE SINCE JUNE OF 1972. C-MAN TAKES THE PILLOW BACK OVER, PETTING IT. HE THEN HANDS IT TO THE OLD WOMAN.)

C-MAN- Here you go mam. That will be $200, Smart Bob, get up.

OLD WOMAN- Shhh, I think kitty is taking a nap.

(THE NEXT DAY)

( C-MAN AND SMART BOB ARE BACK IN THE C-SHED. SMART BOB IS WORKING ON SOME KIND OF NEW INVENTION TO HELP THEM WITH THEIR CRIME FIGHTING NEEDS. C-MAN IS LOOKING THROUGH THE PAPER AND POUTING)

C-MAN- I can’t believe that old woman only had $100.

SMART BOB- She offered us sex.

C-MAN- Ya’, and you were going to take her up on the offer too. You sick bastard.

SMART BOB- What?

C-MAN- She had to have had more money than that. She probably had $500 worth of medication in her purse. I should have took it and kept it until I got my other $100.

(C-MAN LOOKS BACK AT THE PAPER, FINDS SOMETHING HE DOESN’T LIKE AND SLAMS IT DOWN ON THE SMALL TABLE)

C-MAN- LOOK AT THIS PAPER!

SMART BOB- I’m busy, I’ll look at it later.

(C-MAN WALKS OVER TO WHERE SMART BOB IS, GRABS HIM BY THE HAIR, DRAGS HIM OVER, AND SLAMS HIS FACE DOWN ON THE TABLE WHERE THE PAPER IS)

C-MAN- Could you please look at the paper?

(SMART BOB ANSWERS IN A MUFFLED VOICE BECAUSE HIS FACE IS BEING PRESSED AGAINST THE TABLE)

SMART BOB- Yes.

C-MAN- Was that hard?

(C-MAN LETS GO OF SMART BOB’S HEAD, SMART BOB DROPS TO THE FLOOR)

C-MAN- Sid you see what it said?

SMART BOB- I missed that.

C-MAN- It says new super hero wanna be calling himself C-man swindled an old woman out of $100 dollars. If I find the bastard who wrote this he’s getting shot in the face’

(LATER THAT DAY)

(C-MAN IS SITTING AT THE TABLE STARING AT THE CEILING. SMART BOB IS STILL WORKING ON SOMETHING. THE PHONE RINGS AND SMART BOB ANSWERS IT)

SMART BOB- Yes, yes, I’ll tell him... bye.

C-MAN- Who was it, was it the police chief thanking me for my help saving the kitty?

SMART BOB- No, actually it was the neighbors next door. They want you stop going out and getting the paper naked.

C-MAN- Those bastards, I can’t do anything right by them!

(C-MAN RUNS OVER TO THE WINDOW, BREAKS OUT THE GLASS AND UNLOADS HIS 9MM AT RANDOM AT THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE. A WOMAN SCREAMS BACK FROM OUTSIDE)

WOMAN- YOU SHOT MY DOG IN THE REAR END!

(C-MAN YELLS BACK)

C-MAN- I THOUGHT I WAS SHOOTING YOU IN THE FACE, I GUESS I GOT CONFUSED!

(WOMAN YELLS BACK)

WOMAN- JUST WAIT TILL MY HUSBAND COMES HOME!

C-MAN- I’LL SHOOT THAT FUCKER TOO!

(C-MAN TRIES TO SHOOT AT HER MORE BUT HE IS OUT OF BULLETS. HE IS SO MAD HE IS SHAKING UNCONTROLLABLY)

SMART BOB- Would you like some oatmeal?

C-MAN- FUCK YOU TOO!

(C-MAN TIPS THE TABLE OVER, GOES TO THE CORNER OF THE C-SHED, SITS DOWN, AND CRIES. SMART BOB TURNS THE SCANNER UP AND HEARS SOMETHING ABOUT VENDING MACHINES BEING BROKEN INTO AT THE SUPER OVERSIZED SUPER MARKET. C-MAN HEARS IT TOO, HE WIPES THE TEARS FROM HIS EYES AND JUMPS UP)

C-MAN- Smart Bob, to the C-mobile.

(C-MAN AND SMART BOB ARE DRIVING AROUND THE LARGE PARKING LOT OF THE SUPER OVERSIZED SUPER MARKET. THEY ARE CRUISING PAST THE LARGE ROWS OF VENDING MACHINES TRYING TO FIND THE THIEF. SMART BOB SPOTS HIM UP AHEAD BREAKING THE LOCK ON A MACHINE)

SMART BOB- THERE HE IS!

(C-MAN TRIES TO STOP, FORGETTING THE BRAKES ARE OUT, THE CAR SQUEAKS AND COASTS PAST THE THIEF. THE THIEF WATCHES THE CAR COAST PAST AND THEN GOES BACK TO HIS WORK. THE C-MOBILE COASTS UNTIL IT SLAMS INTO A COUPLE PARKED CARS. C-MAN AND SMART BOB HAVE TO CRAWL OUT OF THE BACK DRIVER SIDE WINDOW BECAUSE ALL OF THE DOOR LATCHES ARE BROKE AND IT’S THE ONLY WINDOW THAT WILL ROLL DOWN. THEY THEN WALK OVER TO THE THIEF)

C-MAN- HALT, lawbreaker!

THIEF- Kiss my ass, chunky.

(C-MAN PULLS HIS GUN OUT AND SHOOTS THE THIEF IN THE LEG. HE DROPS AND STOLEN CHANGE FLIES EVERYWHERE)

C-MAN- Why do people always have to make fun of my weight?

SMART BOB- I think our work here is done.

(A MAN IN A BASEBALL UNIFORM RUNS UP HOLDING A BAT)

B-BAT MAN- Never fear, baseball bat man is here. I heard the shooting, I thought I could be some help.

C-MAN- Smart Bob, who’s this freak?

SMART BOB- He’s a crime fighter from New York. He’s good. I heard he’s here to take Super Guy’s place

(C-MAN QUICKLY PUTS HIS GUN TO B-BAT MAN’S HEAD AND MAKES HIM GET IN THE TRUNK OF THE RAMBLER AND CLOSES IT. B-BAT MAN YELLS FROM THE TRUNK)

B-BAT MAN- YOU’RE JUST AFRAID I’LL KICK YOUR FAT, BLOATED, ASS!

(C-MAN TAKES HIS GUN OUT UNLOADS HIS GUN AT THE TRUNK. SMART BOB RUNS AND DIVES FEARING A BULLETS WILL HIT THE GAS TANK.)

SMART BOB- You killed him.

C-MAN- He pissed me off.

SMART BOB- Oh, that will stand up in court.

(C-MAN WALKS OVER TO THE THIEF WHO IS NOW LAYING THERE, SCARED AND BLEEDING)

C-MAN- When they ask you who stopped you tell them C-man. Okay?

THIEF- Ya, ya, whatever you say.

(C-MAN AND SMART BOB CRAWL BACK IN THE RAMBLER AND PUTT AWAY)

(THE NEXT MORNING)

(SMART BOB IS WOKEN BY THE SOUND OF C-MAN WHISTLING HAPPILY OUT IN THE DRIVEWAY, BASICALLY THE YARD. SMART BOB GETS UP OUT OF THE RICKETY BUNK BED, AND WALKS OUTSIDE TO SEE WHAT’S GOING ON. HE SEES C-MAN IN A VERY GOOD MOOD WITH A LARGE ROLL OF DUCT TAPE, HE IS STANDING BY THE RAMBLER.)

C-MAN- Look what I just got.

(C-MAN POINTS TO THE GROUND)

SMART BOB- It’s a railroad tie.

C-MAN- No, look harder.

SMART BOB- I don’t know.

C-MAN- It’s a C-ram.

SMART BOB- Oh, what are you going to do with that?

C-MAN- What are you, stupid? Can’t you figure it out? I’m going to duct tape it to the hood of the C-mobile.

SMART BOB- And after that, what are you going to do?

C-MAN- Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to ram stuff with it.

SMART BOB- Are you serious? When we hit that squirrel last week I think we bent the frame.

C-MAN- Shut up and do something useful. Bring me some kool aid.

(SMART BOB WALKS BACK INSIDE AND GOES OVER TO THE SMALL CAMPER REFRIGERATOR. SMART BOB LOOKS IN)

SMART BOB- We’re out of kool aid.

(C-MAN IMMEDIATELY STOPS WHAT HE’S DOING AND RUNS INSIDE)

C-MAN- WHAT?

SMART BOB- You heard me, I said...

(C-MAN SHOVES SMART BOB OUT OF THE WAY, KNOCKING HIM TO THE FLOOR. C-MAN THEN PICKS THE REFRIGERATOR UP OVER HIS HEAD AND SHAKES EVERYTHING OUT OF IT. AFTER ALL THE STUFF THAT WAS IN THE SMALL REFRIGERATOR IS ON THE FLOOR C-MAN GETS DOWN ON HIS HANDS A KNEES AND SORTS THROUGH EVERYTHING)

C-MAN- SHIT! I NEED SOME KOOL AID!

SMART BOB- Don’t you think you’re being a little impulsive?

C-MAN- You’ll see impulsive when I strangle you to death from lack of kool aid.

SMART BOB- Okay, lets go to the store then.

C-MAN- I’ll finish the car up real quick.

(C-MAN TAPES THE RAILROAD TIE ON THE HOOD, THEN THEY CRAWL IN THE BACK WINDOW OF THE CAR AND PUTT AWAY. THE CAR SPINS A LITTLE IN THE GRASS WHEN IT IS LEAVING AND CMAN LOOKS OVER AT SMART BOB, WHO IS SITTING ON THE PASSENGER SIDE)

C-MAN- You like all that power, don’t you?

SMART BOB- Ya’, sure, whatever, just don’t hit me again.

C-MAN- If we see any wrong do’ers I’m going to cripple their cars with the... C-ram!

SMART BOB- You’re going to cripple us.

(SMART BOB STARTS PULLING ON THE SEAT BELT TO PUT IT ON, IT WON’T BUDGE)

C-MAN- Pussy.

(SMART BOB KEEPS TUGGING ON THE SEAT BELT HOPING IT WILL UNLOCK)

C-MAN- Did you see that?

SMART BOB- Did some cholesterol fall out of your ear?

C-MAN- That guy in that sporty looking Pinto just ran a stop sign.

SMART BOB- I can’t believe you used the words “sporty” and “Pinto” together.

C-MAN- It has racing stripes on it.

SMART BOB- Whoopty shit.

C-MAN- No matter, he broke the law.

SMART BOB- We’re breaking the law driving a car with no brakes.

C-MAN- HE BROKE THE LAW, I HAVE TO STOP HIM!

SMART BOB- Your face is going to have some breaks soon.

(C-MAN GETS BEHIND THE PINTO)

SMART BOB- What are you going to do?

C-MAN- I’m gonna’ ram him, then arrest him.

(SMART BOB JUMPS IN THE BACK SEAT AND HIDES IN THE FLOORBOARD)

C-MAN- This one is going to be hard to catch.

(SMART BOB LOOKS UP AT THE SPEEDOMETER FROM THE BACK)

SMART BOB- We’re only going 50 MPH.

C-MAN- I know, but he keeps pulling away, and I’ve got this hot rod floored.

(THE PINTO COMES TO A COMPLETE STOP AT AN INTERSECTION)

SMART BOB- SLOW DOWN!

(C-MAN TRIES TO SLOW DOWN BUT THE BRAKES DO NOTHING. THE C-MOBILE SLAMS INTO THE BACK OF THE PINTO. THIS CAUSES THE RAILROAD TIE THAT WAS TAPED THE HOOD TO GET SHOVED BACK THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD OF THE C-MOBILE, ALMOST DECAPITATING SMART BOB WHO DUCKED OUT OF THE WAY JUST IN TIME, AND THEN FLIES THROUGH THE BACK WINDOW. AFTER THAT IT HITS THE ROAD AND SKIPS A FEW TIMES BEFORE IT FINALLY STOPS. THIS DOESN’T EVEN STUN C-MAN, HE LEANS FORWARD THROUGH WHERE THE WINDSHIELD USED TO BE AND YELLS AT THE GUY IN FRONT OF HIM)

C-MAN- HALT LAWBREAKER!

GUY IN CAR- Leave me alone, freak!

C-MAN- HUH? I COULDN’T HEAR YOU EVER MY MOTOR KNOCKING!

GUY IN CAR- BACK OFF, OR I’LL SHOOT YOU WITH MY GAT!

C-MAN- Smart Bob, did he say something about his cat.? WHERE’S YOUR CAT?

GUY IN CAR- MY GAT’S IN MY GLOVE BOX!

C-MAN- WELL TAKE IT OUT, YOU SHIT HEAD! He’s going to kill that poor cat treating it like that.

(THE GUY IN THE PINTO PULLS HIS GUN OUT AND STARTS FIRING BACK AT C-MAN. BULLETS ARE WHISTLING PAST HIS HEAD.)

C-MAN- Two can play at this game.

(C-MAN PULLS HIS GUN AND STARTS FIRING AT THE PINTO. BOTH OF THE CARS ARE NOW FULL OF HOLES. THEY ARE HAVING A HARD TIME SEEING EACH OTHER WITH ALL OF THE STEAM THAT IS COMING FROM THE NOW BROKEN RADIATOR OF THE C-MOBILE. NEITHER MAN HAS MANAGED TO HIT THE OTHER.)

C-MAN- Those chemicals must have made me bullet proof, I don’t have any holes in me yet.

(SMART BOB YELLS FROM THE BACK FLOORBOARD.)

SMART BOB- THAT’S JUST BECAUSE HE KEEPS MISSING YOU, YOU STUPID ASS!

(THE GUY IN THE PINTO TAKES OFF. C-MAN PUTS THE CAR IN NEUTRAL, REVS IT UP, AND DUMPS IT IN GEAR. THE C-MOBILE GRINDS, JERKS FORWARD, AND SLOWLY TAKES OFF.)

C-MAN- WE WILL CATCH THAT LAW BREAKER!

(C-MAN IS CHASING THE PINTO. THEY ARE GOING A NECK BRAKING 35 MPH. THE RAMBLER IS GAINING ON THE PINTO.)

C-MAN- Yes, I smell victory!

(SMART BOB YELLS FROM THE BACK FLOORBOARD.)

SMART BOB- THAT’S ANTIFREEZE, YOU DUMBASS, THE RADIATORS BROKEN!

C-MAN- I knew that Pinto would be trouble. Do we have any more bullets? I’m out.

SMART BOB- NO!

C-MAN- Look, there’s a Marijuana plant in the back of that car.

(SMART BOB LEANS UP FROM THE BACK FLOORBOARD AND LOOKS.)

SMART BOB- That’s a fern, jack ass.

C-MAN- I’ve got to stop this guy.

SMART BOB- Why, so he don’t run anymore stop signs?

(C-MAN FLOORS THE C-MOBILE AND CREEPS UP BESIDE THE PINTO. ONCE HE GETS BESIDE THE PINTO C-MAN SWERVES OVER AND RAMS THE CAR OFF THE ROAD. THE PINTO SKIDS OUT OF CONTROL, HITS A PARKED GAS TRUCK, AND BLOWS UP.)

C-MAN- TAKE THAT, that’s one less nut on the street!

(THE HOOD ON THE C-MOBILE POPS OPEN. C-MAN LOSES CONTROL, RUNS OFF THE ROAD, HITS A FIRE HYDRANT AND CAUSES THE CAR TO FLIP 15 TIMES. THE C-MOBILE IS NOW RESTING ON ITS TOP. C-MAN AND SMART BOB ARE LAYING ON THE CEILING OF THE CAR IN A MAULED HEAP.)

SMART BOB- I think I broke my neck.

C-MAN- I think I ripped my cape.

SMART BOB- YOUR CAPE? NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR GODDAMNED CAPE, I THINK I BROKE SOMETHING IMPORTANT! I CAN’T FEEL THREE OF MY TOES, I REALLY DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR CAPE!

C-MAN- Can you fix it, though?

SMART BOB- I don’t fucking know! My neck is at such an odd angle right now I’m practically staring at my ass hole. We better crawl out of here before it catches on fire.

C-MAN- Relax, I’ve been driving on E since last Tuesday.

(THEY DRAG THEMSELVES OUT OF THE CAR AND LIMP AWAY.)

C-MAN- I think we’re going to have to have the c-mobile towed back home.

SMART BOB- I don’t know, maybe if we get it back on it’s wheels...

(THE CAR BURSTS INTO FLAMES.)

SMART BOB- We could have done without that.

[iggy-of-fans]

Part 6, here we are! Also, I hope nobody thinks I don't like Raven. She's literally my favorite TT ever. Hopefully I didn't lose too many of you to her turning. She does get a redemption, I promise! 

Now, we're going to have the conclusion and the epilogue and then I'm done this one. 

What is will always be

Damian had seen several of the magic users take to corners in the ballroom, and so when Jason returned fully costumed he took the Cat Miraculous and ran to the cave. He found Tim about to transform and stopped him. 

"Take this one and transform instead" he said, "the weapon is a staff anyways. Give me the fox. I have an easier time hiding the eears under my hood. And my costume is brighter. No one will look twice at orange thrown in."

"That is…. Brilliant…. No One would believe you switched to a baton, and I don't know if we can switch weapons… Not that a flute is all that… Useful." Timothy said, handing the fox tail to Damien. They transformed quickly and threw on their costumes, finishing just in time for the others to start making their way down. Timothy tried to make it look like he was hiding something much larger than the little black triangles that blended into his hair, while Robin made sure his hat stayed securely on.

"The situation we find ourselves in today…." 

When the JL saw that they had two missing teens Alfred decided to step in. He was out of practice, but he was sure he could help the teens. He looked to Oracle and begged the Miraculous box to open for him. It seemed his prayer was heard, at least somewhat, as the butterfly Miraculous fased up through the box. 

"Oracle, take this. I will need your help to save those kids" Alfred handed her the Miraculous. Noroo awoke and looked at the woman, sitting patiently in a wheelchair and he gasped. 

"oh my poor fairy! Who hurt you so?! I was hurt before too, do you want to help each other heal?" Noroo was quite young in comparison to the others in the inner circle and had very little experience out in the world. But he was eager to redeem himself in the eyes of the world. Barbara was shocked, but nodded. When the light faded, she sat in her chair with new purpose. A butterfly was born from her good intentions to help and landed on her hand. "Magic is so weird" she mumbled, before she thought of how to help the kids. She'd seen the fear in the shorter boys, but the taller one was determined to do the right thing. Him then. She powered up the butterfly, watching as Alfred concentrated hard as well. With a wave of his fan, the butterfly and feather took off to Metropolis. 

… "Here's the plan, everyone. I need Tim to create an illusion of Robin to get close to Adrien and Alya. Then-" 

"Sorry to interrupt Angel, but I don't fight with a staff" Robin stated, lifting his hood slightly to reveal the long fox ears. He dropped it and Guardian Angel looked shocked for a second. 

"You brilliant, brilliant man!" she called, "Okay, new plan. We need a comm from their end. Can anyone do an impression of someone? Like Bane or something?"

"That would be me!" Red Hood called through the comms, shooting another assassin between the eyes. 

"Perfect! Robin, use the mirage to create a ring under your left glove, make it real. You will have to be able to fake a cataclysm midway through, can you do that?" Robin just nodded his head, pulling the flute out from under his Cape and creating a perfect Bane replica. The battle still raging produced the perfect cover for them. 

" Now, make it look like he's dragging you, don't fight too hard, or your illusion will vanish. Superman, get the real Bane and at least break his comm. Take the nerve toxin from Red Robin. Someone get the Red Hood the enemy communicator. Wonder Woman, assist Superman. Supergirl and Superboy. Are you recovered enough to take the ground troops out? Perfect. Remember Robin, you'll have to make an illusion of the ladybug earrings too. Tikki knows to run and hide as soon as he's distracted." 

In Metropolis, Max had long since gone from scared to catatonic. Barely breathing and too terrified to speak. He'd been separated from Nino after their message was discovered. He was as good as dead. 

Nino on the other hand kept tugging at his binds. There is a way out. Ladybug and Marinette would've found one. By Wayzz he hated himself. Why the hell had he let Lila get in the way of years of friendship? How had he believed the utter crap that came out of her mouth? 

Luther had decided it wasn't worth the trouble to kill them since Adrien planned to just resurrect them with his wish, so he left them tied (and beaten and bloody) in a couple of offices on the top floor.. Nino glared at the door, anger coursing through him. 

"Justice, I am Fairy Oracle, from Gotham. I can help you and your friend escape from not only this maniac, but away from the ones you once called friends." 

"And I am Påfugl. I will lend you a companion to aide in your escape. If you accept our aide, unlike when you were Akumatized, you will remember and have ultimate control of your actions. What do you say?" 

"I accept" Nino whispered. Immediately a green light overtook him. He felt the new powers coursing through him, but looking down he didn't look like his outlandish Bubbler form, but rather a bit like the American heroes, with a simple green spandex suit. He flexed his muscles. He didn't look too different from usual, didn't feel too different. But the binding broke from his muscles like glass. He wondered what the power up was hidden in. He hadn't seen the butterfly… Shrugging he looked to the door. He knew roughly that Max was in another office to the right of his own door. He also knew he had a minimum of four guards to fight through. He looked around for the companion he was supposed to receive.

"Look outside" a voice whispered through his head. He looked and saw a falcon flying in the distance, "when you're ready, jump. We will catch you." 

Oh… Okay. He looked at the door and checked the slit to see if it was locked. Of course it was. Okay. Let's see how strong he really was. He yanked the door with all his might, pulling the door clear off the wall. Oops. The guards turned to look at this unknown and lifted their guns. Well, so much for stealth, Nino thought as he threw the door at the two guards. He saw the two that had take Max running down the hall from his right and he quickly picked the door back up and threw it at them too before taking off towards the rooms at the end of the hall. He broke three doors before he found Max, gaping at him like he had two heads. 

"Let's GO!" Nino yelled, breaking the rope on Max and jumping out the nearest window. 

"OH please dear God if I rot in jail, please just get us out of here" he whispered as he and Max fell fifteen stories and counting. Suddenly they abruptly stopped falling, claws closing in on their shirts as a giant falcon swooped over them and lifted off towards Gotham. Distantly Nino still heard the shouts from guards to shoot, but they were out of range. 

With Bane subdued with Neuro-inhibitors, the assassins placed into bullet proof glass boxes, Scarecrow on his way to Arkham, and a quick Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, the heroes were left with a passed out Adrien and a cuffed Alya. Commissioner Gordon wanted to have Adrien brought to the hospital for treatment and Alya to the police station for questioning. But the heroes wouldn't be left out. Batman insisted he and Wonder Woman head to the hospital with Adrien. Red Hood nodded and asked Supergirl to accompany himself with Alya. Nightwing nodded to the passed out Raven, being held in cuffs by Star fire. Robin took hold of Guardian Angel and offered her a ride home on his Robin Bike. She smiled and was about to nod when a bird cry was heard from above. Looking up, everyone saw a giant falcon landing with two boys in its claws. They recognized them immediately as Max Kantê and Nino Lahiffe. Commissioner Gordon took them into custody as well, to decide what to do with them after, giving the heroes not joining for the Interrogation a rest. Guardian Angel thanked Comissioner Gordon, and went with Robin back to the batcave. 

Once there, along with several other heroes who were recovering, Marinette tuned in to the screen where Red Hood and Supergirl were with Alya. 

"Miss Cesaire, I am curious about what led you to follow Mr Agreste to Gotham" a translator sat in the room, turning her head to Alya. 

"Lila Rossi is not a liar! I'm a journalist, I know this! She can't be a liar. That means Ladybug is and I just wanted her to admit Lila was telling the truth!" Alya screamed in frustration. The translator frowned as she spoke to Comissioner Gordon. 

"What does that have to do with this incident?" 

And so Red Hood gave the run down of Paris and what happened to Rossi, including her deportation and multiple lawsuits she was facing currently. The translator explained to Alya that the lawsuits were from both individuals who'd been lied about, including Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, as well as the city of Paris on behalf of Ladybug. Alya paled with the words, shaking her head frantically. 

"Did you or did you not lead the planned attack on a former classmate on behalf of Lila Rossi?" Red Hood asked. But Alya was mute. She wasn't wrong. She wasn't wrong.

" Marinette was just jealous" Alya whispered. She wasn't wrong! "Marinette was just so jealous, she bullied Lila!" she finally screamed, "Ladybug could have fixed her!" 

"Has the girl mentioned, Marinette, ever shown bullying tendencies before? Been outwardly cruel or antagonistic when provoked or jealous?" Comissioner Gordon broke in. Alya froze. She thought about Kagami and Chloe and all the girls involved in Adrien's life and tried to come up with an example. She lowered her head and shook it no. 

" Has Ladybug ever been able to bring back a deceased that was killed outside of a magical attack by these Akuma?" 

"She cured Lila's tinnitus!" she exclaimed. 

"the same Lila that lied about being bullied, and has lawsuits against her from multiple sources? You believe this to be a credible source? Let me ask this, has she ever cured anyone else of chronic illness?" Gordon asked. Alya shook her head. 

"So you came here with the intention of what… Using Ladybug, aka, Guardian Angel, to bring back all those you and your partner killed?" Gordon looked skeptical. 

"you can wish for anything with the jewel of creation and destruction. Even for life to be breathed into the dead" Alya said clearly. 

"Is that a fact?" Gordon turned to Red Hood. He shook his head. 

"The consequences of making any wish can be destructive. A wish for peace might kill half the population, simply because less population means more resources. The law of Alchemy states that everything must remain in balance. To bring back a dear friend, you have to lose another dear friend first. To bring back 14 innocent people, 14 other innocent people would have to die. From my understanding, they planned on not only resurrecting the people they themselves killed, but also the classmate who committed suicide. On top of this, they also planned on creating a "perfect world" in conjunction, to make sure no conflict happened in their class specifically" Red Hood played the video on his phone of Nino explaining this before he was caught. Gordon frowned. He glared at Alya, who was pale. They couldn't bring them back. They couldn't bring any of them back and that meant Marinette was dead and she'd never be able to see or hug or apologize or…. Alya puked on the floor. The realization that even limitless power was in fact limited. Gordon nodded and told an officer to put her in a cell and call Paris. 

When Adrien awoke, he was cuffed to a hospital bed, his head was bandaged down past the right eye, and his torso was strapped to the bed with a warm blanket. In the room with him were Wonder Woman and Batman. He frowned. 

"Mr Agreste. Do you know where you are?" Wonder Woman asked. He tried to shake his head but he opened his mouth anyways. 

"Gotham City" his voice was scratchy and dry. 

"Do you know why we are here?" 

"I tried to get the Ladybug and Cat mirculouses."

"Why?" 

"Because Ladybug should've healed Marinette. My Princess should be here with me. Ladybug was jealous and let her die and sent Lila away and took my ring and my family from me! Everything was ruined because of her!" Adrien shouted. Batman looked at him. This was going to be a long day.

"Tell us what happened from your perspective?"

And Adrien did.

Okay, so.... Here's part six. Seven will be really short but I couldn't find a way to include it in this.

@bookreader20003

@mooshoon @artxyra @spicybelladonna @northernbluetongue @kuroko26 @mystery-5-5 @2sunchild2 @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @zelladane @ellerahs @thedarkwhiteangel @resignedcatservant @scribblinggraveyard @alexzandria-747 @nyctamaximoff @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @sapphiraazure2708 @tinybrie @dudet @thatrandomfandomsgirl @lunar-wolf-warrior @zazzlejazzle @zebrabaker @constancestruggle @unabashedbookworm @ginamarie1512 @mindfulmagics @bitterheart12224 @captainmac6 @blue-peach14 @enduskdragon @multishipper1needshalp @abrx2002

@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen

#daminette #damian wayne #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #maribat #marinette deserves better #maridami #Batfam #justice league #Lex luthor #Wonder woman

[repulsivepangolin7]

SEAL Team fic. Crush pt1

A/N: So, I recently fell into yet another wormhole and binged the first two seasons of SEAL team in less time than I should have used to watch it. I figured out a few things: 1. This show is freaking awesome once you get your bearings. 2. Sonny is cool, I dig him. 3. I love Full Metal (Like seriously, what a highly qualified dork!) And 4. There is NOT ENOUGH Scott Carter (Full Metal) fanfiction.

Oh, and as some of you MIGHT know… I’m too hung up on H/C and whump… Word count: 1860

You forget to be scared after a while. That was the truth for some of them at least. The problem wasn’t when you were neck deep in a FUBAR situation, it was when you were trying to get some shut-eye at home in your own bed. You took a deep breath and pushed the fear down and moved on.

But one thing was for sure, life had an impeccable way of telling you to take a breather every once in a while. Nature’s way of telling you to slow down a bit. A sucking chest wound, an arterial bleed, blood loss, a massive concussion. You know, stuff like that.

He tried getting his bearings as the dust settled. Last thing he remembered was someone yelling ‘incoming’ and diving for cover.

His sight was blurred and all sound seemed warped. His ears was ringing and his head was spinning, but it was nothing compared to the immense pain that was his left leg.

He forced himself up on his elbows, positive he was going to hurl as the world tilted on its axis. The sight that met him didn’t help too much.

One of the concrete walls had caved and landed on his leg. He barely stopped himself from trying to tug his leg free, he knew damn well it wouldn’t budge and all that would happen was that the pain would tenfold and he would probably do more damage to his leg than there already was.

Blood was soaking his tactical pants right above where the concrete block ended. First thing needing to happen was a tourniquet, then he had to get that thing off of his leg.

He barely noticed Bravo 1 ordering a radio check and sit rep before the fifth time he called him up by his nickname.

“Yeah. I’m here. Hear you Lima Charlie.” He sucked some air through his teeth, “My leg’s stuck under some rubble. Think I busted it.”

“Do you need assistance getting loose?”

“A-firm.” he took a second look at the bloody mess under the block of concrete, “Gonna need a tourniquet and help moving as well.”

“Okay, you’ve got it.” Jason paused, “Bravo 4, this is Bravo 1, you’re closest to Full Metal. Can you get to him? Out.”

“Bravo 1, Bravo 4. Sure can! Out.”

 *          *          *

 “Oh, damn…” Trent grumbled as soon as he had a visual on Full Metal, “How bad is it brother?”

“Think my leg is crushed.”

“Actual crushed?”

“Worse than just a break…” Metal gave a minimal shrug, but the pain written all over his features spoke volumes, “Hurts like hell.”

Trent nodded as he sat down beside Full Metal. “Tourniquet first. Then we’ll figure out how to move this.”

Full Metal nodded a bit, “I will be of minimal help during that part of this OP.”

“What? When we’re moving the block of concrete?”

He grimaced, “Something tells me whatever pain I’m experiencing right now is just a taste test of what’s to come once the initial shock wears off and my leg actually gets jostled.”

“I think you might be right, buddy.” Trent nodded, “You might want to administer at least 10mg of morphine before we start.”

“Already did.” Metal answered and reached for the spent auto-injector pen in order to wave it around and show it to Trent.

“Is it enough?” he asked as he dug a tourniquet out of his gear.

“Look at my leg. What do you think?” Full Metal growled, “Not gonna take anymore just yet, I’m gonna need it later as well.”

“Pretty sure the rest of us will be willing to share ours.”

“I don’t want to take so much one of you will actually have to keep an eye on me, to monitor for overdose.”

“I think you’re big enough to handle 20mg of morphine.” Trent shrugged as he leaned forward in order to wrap the tourniquet around Full Metal’s thigh, “This is gonna hurt…”

Full Metal nodded and placed his gloved knuckled between his teeth.

Trent wasn’t surprised when Full Metal suddenly went lax. He didn’t know the full extent of his injury, but one thing was for sure, it had to be painful as all hell. Full Metal wasn’t exactly one to fuzz over nothing, actually, he wasn’t one to fuzz over anything as far as Trent knew him. And syncope was a natural response to pain.

“Bravo 1, this is Bravo 4. We need additional manpower here to get Full Metal loose. Out.”

“Bravo 4, good copy. You think you’ll get him loose if Bravo 2 and 3 join up?”

Trent looked over the rubble and Full Metal, “Might need more. I estimate this block of concrete weighs 2.5 metric tons. We also need someone to drag Full Metal free once we’ve got that weight off his leg. He passed out when I put on the TQ. Think he’s coming back around now…”

“Okay, Bravo 5 you keep watch on the south corner, alert us of any movement south or east. The rest of us, help Bravo 4.”

The confirmations came in one after another.

“Havoc, this is Bravo 1. We are forced to divert from our plan, please alert us of any movement close to our position. Out.”

“Bravo 1, Good copy. Do you need anything else? Out.”

“Might need medevac. Out.”

“Site is considered a hot-zone. Is it critical? Out?”

“Haven’t got eyes on yet. Stand by for further information. Out.”

 *          *          *

 Clay, Sonny, Ray and Jason managed to lift the concrete block enough for Trent to pull Full Metal out from under it. None of them surprised when the big guy passed out for a second time.

The guys let go of the slab and it fell down, resting on some other rubble 3 or 4 inches off the ground.

“Let’s try to check and stabilize his leg while he’s still unconscious.” Trent called out as he started cutting away at the fabric of Full Metal’s pants. “Clay, find quickclot combat gauze, tape and regular gauze. Sonny, find cravats or anything that can be used to splint his left leg against his right leg. Jason and Ray, anything that can be used as cushioning between his legs and between his left leg and the cravats.”

They all hurried to their tasks.

“How does it look?”

“Open fracture above his ankle and below his knee. Multiple deformities from knee down. Lots of soft tissue damage. He needs to get proper medical attention, he’s at high risk for crush syndrome.” Trent rattled off as he took the things Clay handed him, “Clay, can you find Sodium Bicarbonate, a peripheral IV line and a FAST1.”

“Sodium Bicarb, peripheral IV line and FAST1.” Clay nodded, “Got it.”

*          *          *

 He woke up to one of Trent’s thighs on each side of his head, not exactly his favorite position.

“Heya buddy, really hoped you would be out for 30 seconds more…” his teammate winked down at him. “I’m just gonna place a FAST1. Already have an orange IV running in your left arm. How are you feeling?”

“-Like I got run over by a wall.” Full Metal answered, trying to mask a grimace, “How’s my leg?”

“Crush injury, like you predicted. You’ve still got a pulse distal to most of the injuries, if you wondered about that. Have sodium bicarb trickling into that IV you have in your arm. We’re waiting for medevac, tricky situation with this still being a hot-zone.”

Metal nodded, “But I guess you think I need it?”

Trent nodded, “The sooner the better. But, I also think you could handle a couple of hours delay. I just want to avoid that if possible. We managed to cover the worst gashes and stabilize your left leg against your right while you were out of it.”

Full Metal nodded a bit, taking in the information. “So. Crush injury. Muscle mass gets damaged, releases toxins. Clogs up kidneys. Renal failure. Am I right?” Full Metal met Trent’s eyes.

“Kinda. But that’s what the sodium bicarb is for.” Trent winked, “That, and they’ll probably load you up with saline once medevac gets here. How’s your pain?”

“Way too damn high.” he rolled his eyes a little, “7, I guess.”

“I’d guess 8 or 9…” Trent shrugged, “You passed out. Twice.”

“Probably won’t be the last time either.”

Trent nodded, “But, just looking at you and listening to you. I’d guess about a 4.”

“That’s why we call him Full Metal…” Sonny winked as he came into Metal’s view as well, “Seriously man, you are allowed to show that this hurts. I would’ve sounded like an air-raid alert. How are ya?”

Full Metal shook his head a bit, “Not good.”

“Maybe you should take that second injector…” Trent said as he readied the FAST1 introducer, “No need for you to suffer more than necessary.”

“You said it yourself. This is still a hot-zone. Medevac has unknown ETA.” Full Metal swallowed hard, “Might be here in 15 mikes, might take 6 hours. Or more. Have to save some for later.”

“We’ve got plenty.” Sonny said as he squeezed his shoulder, “You’re in pain. A lot of it.”

“I’m nauseous enough already.” Full Metal shot back, “Can’t remember morphine helping any in that department.”

“No, but it’ll help with the pain. And that might ease nausea.” Trent quipped back as he placed the introducer against Full Metal’s skin, “Ready?”

He got a short nod in return and pushed the introducer down.

The operator on the ground let out a single expletive and gritted his teeth.

“Sorry about that…”

“We’re good.” Full Metal nodded and held his fist up for Trent to bump it.

All of the sudden their earpieces buzzed on, “Bravo team, this is Havoc. Looks like we’ve a group of 4, potentially 5, Tango’s headed your way in a pickup with a mounted machine gun.”

Jason replied. The guys got their orders and quickly followed through.

“Bravo 1, this is Bravo 5, I have eyes on the pickup. Should I engage? Out.”

 *          *          *

 By the time Trent, Sonny and Clay had carried Full Metal to safety, the building they were in was once again taking heavy fire.

This time, Full Metal hadn’t passed out due to pain from being jostled. Probably because the injection had been given the time to reach full effect.

“You think you’ll be okay down here by yourself?” Sonny asked as he helped Metal lean up against his backpack.

Full Metal nodded slightly, his eyes squeezed closed as he prayed for the pain to pass.

“Hey, Full Metal…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to be okay down here by yourself?”

He nodded a bit more, “Yeah. As soon as I stop feeling like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Do you want me to stay here with you?” Sonny asked, “Or Clay, or Trent…”

“No-NO…” Full Metal shook his head, “I’m a big boy. Can take care of myself.”

Trent raised an eyebrow, “Alright, big boy… Just radio if you change your mind.”

Full Metal raised his thumb in order to show that the message was received and understood.

#SEAL Team #Full Metal #Fullmetal #seal team cbs #fanfiction #seal team fanfiction #scott carter

[of-the-silver-lining]

Prompt #5: Matter of Fact

(This is something of a follow-up to last year’s Scour)

(Content warnings: Character deaths, death in general, corpses)

A haze hung over the desert as the five of them, dressed in their full-body protective gear, opened the hatch of the tank cruiser and stepped out onto the undisturbed dust. No breeze blew, and their footsteps, their breathing through the tubes, and the hum of the aetherial barrier within their suits were the only sound to reach their ears. 

The sun burned as an orange disc above them in the perfectly still and silent air, and they started forth without saying a word. Rocks and the distant Gyr Abanian mountains loomed above them in the haze like silent, floating ghosts. Withered shrubs still dotted the landscape, as still as if they were frozen in time.

Before them through the haze, the silhouettes of tents and motionless flags grew visible, and soon, countless shapes that dotted the ground, little dark mounds.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Annelise said. Her voice was muffled through her breathing apparatus and the mask of her suit, and small in the deafening silence. She paused, and the others turned back to her.

Lilimo sighed audibly in her tiny suit. “I’m afraid the time for raising doubts is over. We’ve come all this way because we need those samples.”

Biggs III’s enormous suit towered over her. “If you don’t want to come, you can wait with the tank cruiser,” he said gently.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just...” Her eyes under her dark bangs darted from the mounds on the horizon to G’raha Tia and back. She probably hoped he didn’t see through the glass square on her headgear, but he did.

“This place is a grave,” said Arvin, a sad look in his dark eyes behind the glass. “This is where it happened, it should be as sacred as anything in this world could be. I feel in my bones we should not be here. All we can do is be respectful.”

“They would want us to continue our work if it means we can someday heal the planet,” said Biggs.

“Come now,” G’raha Tia said, fearing Annelise would push the matter, “Our time is limited. We cannot waste our air supply.”

With that, he headed onward and the others followed. The tents and lean-tos of the old military camp came more into view, the cloth of some of the tents still a brilliant Ala Mhigan purple and silver. Banners of the Alliance hung limply over some of the tents; from here, besides Ala Mhigan purple, he could see the blue of Ishgard and the yellow of Gridania.

And then, there were the bodies. They appeared as vague shapes littering the ground, until the group drew closer, and G’raha could make out the beaked griffin uniforms of Ala Mhigan Resistance members. When they reached the edge, they stopped, wordless, looking out over the corpse-ridden camp.

They were not dust and bones beneath faded cloth. Their skin had not rotted away or been dried out by the natural processes of the desert sun. They were perfectly preserved, as if time had stopped the moment they died, freezing the entire scene like a macabre painting. They looked almost unreal, like wax sculptures. Fingers were clawing at the dirt, hands were reaching for the sky. Some were clutching each other, some were curled up as if in the womb, and some held their heads in their arms or covered their noses and mouths with their hands or clothing. Their faces were frozen in agonized screams, contorted in pain, or, perhaps worst of all, wide-eyed in shock.

The five companions stood silently for a moment, taking in the utter horror of the scene. Annelise raised her hands and muttered words of prayer under her breath, and after a moment Arvin did the same. Lilimo put a hand to her chest and said, “To all those who rest here, please forgive us our disturbance.”

Biggs stepped forward and knelt by one of the soldiers, a wide-eyed young Hyuran man who lay on his stomach, head turned, mouth open, and teeth biting into the dirt. “It seems the theories were correct,” he said gravely.

Lilimo nodded and knelt next to him. “In this concentration, Black Rose has frozen all natural processes, even after all this time. All forms of aetherial flow are still utterly halted here. They do not decay, because no process that could decay them can continue. All micro-organisms are also dead, the sun does not dry, the rain does not fall, the wind does not weather. The toxin lingers in the air and the soil to keep it that way. I wonder if this land could ever recover.”

“Gods...” Arvin murmured. “One struggles to believe they are two hundred years old.” Through his headgear, his usually tan face looked a sickly shade of gray.

They continued on their way through the camp. Arvin, despite the irrepressible horror on his face, was a historian to the end and diligently removed a notepad from his pack of supplies and began scribbling notes. “These tents must have been where the Ala Mhigan soldiers slept,” he said aloud, as if trying to break the tension of their silence, “It looks like they came running out and... And, over there, I think I see all the banners in a row, that must have been where the Alliance leaders met. I wonder if... if we have time to see the tent where they met with Emperor Varis zos Galvus. I suppose it should be on the other side of... of... the hill.”

G’raha Tia was a historian as well, and distantly, he could understand the young Hyuran man’s fascination with a perfectly preserved scene from two hundred years ago. This, however, was not history to him. These were the nations of Eorzea as he had known them. It was nothing like history. As if the world had not become surreal enough, it was like stepping back into his original time, his all-too-recent other life.

Soon the five of them split up. Lilimo and Biggs went to gather samples of the cannisters used to deploy Black Rose as well as the air, soil, and other materials, and Arvin went to survey the camp and flesh out his drawings and notes. 

G’raha Tia was about to start off alone toward the middle of the camp when Annelise caught his shoulder with her gloved hand, and he turned back to her. “Wait,” she said. “You don’t need to do this. You can go back and wait for us.” Through the glass, most of her face was hidden beneath her breathing apparatus, but he could see the worry for him in her dark eyes.

“I appreciate your concern,” he said flatly, “But as I’ve said before, I do need to do this.”

“You must have seen enough,” she urged. “I promise, we’ll tell you if we... if we find anything.”

How could she understand? From the moment he awoke, everyone he met had been telling him things. He heard the end of stories he had lived in, and two hundred years worth of the future’s history--of Iris’s deeds of heroism, and of Cid’s life’s work left behind and the memories and legacies of the Ironworks. He explored the lifeless wastelands that remained of places he once knew, and it still failed to impress upon him that the world he knew was truly gone.

The decision he had made when he closed the doors of the Crystal Tower could not exactly be called spur-of-the-moment, but it was closer to that than to a long-prepared plan. He had closed the door filled with excitement to see the possibilities of the future, but with little thought to his own preparation for the permanence of what he was about to do. 

He never imagined anything like this. Every day he labored to accept the enormity of it. He knew it in his mind, but his heart held out some strange hope. Somehow, he still wondered if he would wake up at Saint Coinach’s Find in his tent and it would all have been a dream, or Cid and Biggs I and Wedge and Iris would appear and lower the curtain on some charade: “Wasn’t that a show! You’d better not be thinking of leaving us, G’raha Tia--look what might become of you!”

He didn’t have time to explain.

“If she’s here,” he said. “I need to see it for myself.” 

Thankfully Annelise did not follow him. In the middle of the camp, a large tent stood, striped in the colors of Ul’dah and Ala Mhigo, and some ways before it lay a cluster of bodies. These were all dressed differently, not in uniforms of any kind. A large man missing one arm seemed to be the only one among them dressed militarily, though from his elaborate armor he must have ranked highly. As he noticed the bull on his pauldron, he realized he must be looking at Raubahn Aldynn, the Bull of Ala Mhigo.

He continued on to the others, where a blonde-haired Hyuran woman all dressed in red lay staring at the sky. Some paces away he found a heart-rending sight; a Miqo’te woman was slumped over a white-haired Elezen girl, a staff still clutched in her hand, as if she had been trying to heal her. He bent down beside them. The healer’s glassy eyes were staring in shock and horror, but the Elezen girl’s were closed as if in peaceful sleep, the first serene face he had seen. Perhaps the healer had managed to give her some comfort in her last moments. 

Then, he noticed the tattoos on the Miqo’te woman’s neck--tattoos just like his. She was from Sharlayan, and an Archon. So the Scions were indeed here, as history had recorded. His heart sank with dread. She must be Y’shtola Rhul, Master Matoya’s pupil. Which would make the younger woman possibly one of Master Louisoix’s grandchildren, and the woman in red Lyse Hext, the Scion who had returned to fight for Ala Mhigo.

He rose to his feet, beginning to feel dizzy and ill. On the dusty, sandy ground, he spotted a peculiar trail: footprints. They led away from the bodies toward the southeast, and they were spaced far apart, as if the person was running. Likely they were there before the massacre, he thought at first, but he examined the ground beside the bodies, where it appeared they originated, as if someone had knelt or sat there, and then scrambled up to take off running.

Treading beside them so as not to disturb them, he followed the footprints as they led through the camp past more corpses. He saw many mail-clad bodies of Ishgardian knights, lying on the ground and up on top of the rocky outcroppings, where they must have been standing watch. At the edge of the camp, the footprints went on into the desert, and the runner’s pace showed no sign of slowing.

They must have been left there shortly before the gas had been deployed, G’raha told himself. Or they were left by someone else who had returned to the scene; perhaps other groups had developed the means to survive out here. After all, how could anyone have survived Black Rose long enough to run so far? Unless...

He pushed any speculation from his mind, focusing on the sound of his even breaths as he pressed on, loud inside his suit in the silence. He was compelled to see what was at the end, if he could reach it before his air ran low and he had to turn back.

Past the rocks, G’raha Tia squinted over the wide, flat plain, and distantly to the east, he could see the walls and towers of a city--the ruins of Ala Mhigo. Presently, he caught sight of a glint in the dead orange light. Glare on his mask, he thought at first, but as he pressed on, a shape came into view among the sparse, scrubby desert plants that were still rooted in the ground, a dark form lying in the dust.

The breathing that reached his ears turned shaky. He crept closer and saw the glint of metal--a clasp on a leather bag that lay on the ground. He could see leather boots, travelers’ clothes of green and white, and... an enormous bow and quiver on the corpse’s back, and the shine of golden hair. The footprints ended.

He ran to the fallen figure. All he could hear was his breathing quickening into frantic gasps. She lay on her stomach, her head turned to the side. He did not recognize her clothing or her bow, but beside her lay her small harp, the same harp he had heard her playing and singing to in Mor Dhona’s forest of crystals, the same harp he’d asked her to borrow to awkwardly pluck out an ancient song, and coaxed her to play along with him at the campfire late one night. Her fingers were curled and clawing into the dust, where they had left deep scratches.

Her hair was longer than it was when they had explored the Crystal Tower together, and it lay obscuring her face. It was undoubtedly her, undoubtedly... but he had to be sure. 

He knelt beside her, and with shaking hands, he touched the corpse’s hair, and slowly brushed it away from her face. He found himself looking into the familiar face of the Warrior of Light, the face he had seen many times in the Crystal Tower. It was no surprise, but that didn’t lessen the horror. His friend’s eyes were squeezed shut, her brows furrowed in sorrow, as if she had been crying.

A cry tore from his own throat and he stumbled back. He fell to his hands and knees, fighting back the urge to retch and the urge to tear off his suit’s headpiece and breathing apparatus. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he gasped desperately into the mask.

He had finally found her, and the truth had found him. The revolting, undeniable, inescapable truth. No matter how much he wanted to believe otherwise, the Eighth Umbral Calamity had ended the Warrior of Light, and all the hope she had brought to the world, along with almost everyone he had ever known. It made no difference what vain hope he held on to. Whether or not his heart had refused to face the truth. It was not a matter of belief. It was a matter of fact.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, sitting beside her body with his head bowed. Eventually, the others found him. They must have guessed what he had found, because they didn’t call out to him, but walked up quietly beside him.

“Is it really her?” Lilimo finally asked and G’raha nodded. “She looks so...” she began, but Arvin nudged her with his knee and she fell silent.

Biggs knelt down beside G’raha and rested his large hand on G’raha’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“This is all wrong,” he choked. “All of this... is a mistake. As you said, I should not have come here.” Hot tears streamed down his face. He knew he was making no sense, but he didn’t care what they thought of him. “I told her that history would remember her... but not... this is not.... This was never supposed to happen. How could this be the fate of the world?”

“It’s not,” Biggs said, to G’raha’s surprise. “That’s why we’re going to change it.”

“This may be our world, but we’ve always known that,” said Annelise. “After all, it’s what we are all working for.”

“Aye,” said Lilimo. “Many of us grew up with the Ironworks, living with Cid Garlond’s legacy, dreaming of a different world that could have been.”

“Knowing in our hearts that it should have been,” Annelise added. “I’m sorry we had to awaken you to this. It was cruel. But it’s only because we have a real chance.”

“I can’t promise that you will meet her again,” said Biggs. “but after all this time, our dream might be close to being realized. Even if none of us ever see it, I hope you can take comfort in knowing you were part of it.”

When they left the desert of Gyr Abania, G’raha was silent, his heart hardened with a new resolve. The facts may be indisputable, but he refused to accept them, and he was not alone. They would upend time and space itself in the hope those facts could be unwritten.

#oh my goood so yeah i was working on that for days #i hope make-up day can be used for such an old prompt #i have no excuse for myself except my add #really really really needs some editing and rewrites #but i will resist #i think it broke me out of my writing slump though #but god damn why do i write such horrible depressing stuff #cw: death #ffxivwrite2020 #g'raha tia

[itallstartedwithplayingvet]

Whumptober Day 22 - Do These Tacos Taste Funny To You? - Poisoned/Drugged

Fandom: Original

Characters: Dune the scorpion (OC), Bristle the tarantula (OC), Droplet the frog (OC)

Content Warnings: Venom, paralysis, lady whump (though not of a human woman), bugs, spiders

Word Count: 1,342

“I’m not going to miss this place.”

Dune felt herself crack a smile at Bristle’s comment. “You know, the desert really isn’t so bad once you get used to it.” She called back to him.

He scoffed. “You only say that because you were born here! I’m from the rainforest! I need moisture in the air, for Arachne’s sake!”

“Ugh, remind me not to visit once we find you a new home.” Dune teased. “All that mist sounds unbearable.”

“Oh, but you must visit!” Bristle replied. “Droplet would miss you...and well, I wouldn’t be too happy in your absence, either.”

“I’m not going to travel all the way to the rainforest for your pet frog, Bristle.” 

“Why not? I’d do anything for her, and she’d do anything for me. Right, cutie?”

Dune rolled her eyes as she picked up on the sounds of Bristle affectionately doting upon his little frog companion from behind her. She found the concept of keeping an animal for reasons other than getting food or a service from it to be rather pointless. She knew that long ago, the ancestors of rainforest-dwelling tarantulas had kept frogs in their burrows as a form of pest control, to protect their eggs from ant raiders. But selective breeding had seen those frogs reduced to a quarter of their former size in order to serve as companions for tarantulas without eggs to protect, and now they weren’t much help at all. Really, what was the point? To keep from getting lonely? Loneliness was something meant for displaced eusocialites...not for loner folk like scorpions or spiders. 

Her thoughts were broken by the piercing cries of Bristle’s frog. “Will you shut that---” As Dune turned to face him, however, she was met not with the sight of Bristle trying to soothe his nervous pet, but rather, with the sight of something large and black lurking in the shadows just behind him. When she caught the flash of an orange wing, she knew with a dreadful certainty just what it was. “BEHIND YOU!”

The words had barely left her when the stalking creature moved with terrifying speed and latched onto her companion. She saw the silhouette of a massive, needle-like stinger poised underneath him for only a fraction of a second...and then, it was plunged into his flesh.

Bristle gasped in a mixture of surprise and pain. Then, his face began to contort into all manner of agonized expressions as the creature’s venom entered his blood. His final expression was a pleading gaze fixed on Dune...and all in the span of mere seconds, before Dune even had time to react, he was suddenly screaming so fiercely that she could see his fangs in their entirety. 

The creature that had stung him soon withdrew its stinger with great force, and stepping away from its victim, the creature stood upright in the manner of Insectfolk -- two legs, four arms. It was pitch black in color, yet some small patches of its body shone a vibrant blue in the last remaining glimmers of sunlight.

By Selket... Dune, in fact, knew of this creature. It was the bane of desert-dwelling Arachne-Kin---the Tarantula Hawk. A sub-species of wasp, they were very particular about their breeding habits, and over thousands of years had not strayed from the instinct to paralyze large folk---usually tarantulas---so that their young might feast on their still-living bodies when they hatch. It was a gruesome habit, and Dune had seen the aftermath of such a method before during her travels in the desert, the lifeless husks of tarantulas much like Bristle, bearing a single entrance and exit wound where the young of the Tarantula Hawk had feasted upon their innards, and then left after having their fill.

Her mind flooded with the sounds of Bristle’s agonized wails and the thought of him as just another hollowed-out corpse in the sand...and it motivated her to do something rather foolish.

Dune raced towards the Hawk with a cry of rage, her own stinger poised to strike and fill the parasite with deadly venom. As she struck, however, the Hawk leapt to the side, sparing her body, but catching her wing upon Dune’s stinger, which promptly tore quite thoroughly.

The Hawk glanced at her torn wing in surprise, and then turned to Dune in fury. “You should have stayed out of this, scorpion.” She hissed. “Before you interfered, I was only going to take him.”

“I won’t let my friend be subjected to such a gruesome fate.” Dune snapped back. “He’s a good tarantula. He doesn’t deserve--”

The Hawk laughed at her. “Of course he doesn’t! No one deserves it! This is instinct, scorpion, nothing more. We can’t change our nature any more than you can stop your tail from brewing toxins!”

“I’m still not letting you take him. If you want this tarantula, you’ll have to kill me!” Dune stepped in front of Bristle’s still-screaming body, shielding him with her body. A single glance back at him would tell her that the paralytic component in the Hawk’s venom was already taking hold of him. His limbs were stiffening up, curling towards his body as though he were in the final throes of death. There was no time now to comfort him. The venom wouldn’t kill him, at least. It wasn’t meant to do that.

“...Your dedication to your friend is admirable.” The Hawk mused. Dune thought she detected a hint of sorrow to her voice. “...But I’m afraid I still need him. I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

In the next instant, the Hawk darted towards her, stinger poised to sink into her abdomen. But Dune was ready. She swung at the Hawk with one solid claw, knocking her to the ground. She didn’t wait for the Hawk to get up, before turning back to Bristle and attempting to drag him away.

“Easy, easy.” She spoke gently to him, trying to ease his terror. “You’ll live. The pain won’t last for much longer, and I’ll find someone to help you.” 

As she spoke to him, though, she saw his eyes focus on something directly behind her. Dune felt the Hawk’s spiked limbs seize her from behind and yank her away from Bristle. She thrashed and thrust wildly with her stinger, desperate to break free. At last, she slammed her head into something beneath her---the Hawk’s head. Reflexively, she released Dune, who scrambled away to recover, before tackling the Hawk.

The pair rolled down the side of a dune, locked together in combat. They landed with Dune pinning the Hawk to the ground, her stinger poised to execute the meddling wasp. “Now you will know why they call my people Deathstalker.” Dune, enraged, plunged her stinger into the Hawk’s thorax. The Hawk cried out---and plunged her own stinger into the underside of Dune’s abdomen. Dune echoed her cry.

For a moment, the pair of combatants remained still, each pumping their own mixture of venom into the other. The Hawk could not say another word to her enemy before Dune’s venom sent her into a fit of violent convulsions. Meanwhile, Dune wrenched her stinger from the Hawk’s body, and staggered a short distance away, before the rapidly spreading pain of the Hawk’s sting made her collapse. 

Dune convulsed as the Hawk’s venom coursed through her veins. In an instant, she was consumed by the sensation of being struck by lightning---over, and over, and over again. She felt as though her body had been lit ablaze from the inside. Though she feared attracting other opportunistic hunters to her location, Dune could not resist the urge to scream. And scream she did, sinking her claws into the sand and letting out a desperate wail that echoed across the barren desert. In her last remaining moments of lucidity, she screamed the name of Bristle’s pet.

“Droplet! If you can understand me at all, PLEASE find someone who can help us!”

Atop the dune, perched by her master’s side, was the faithful little frog called Droplet...quivering with terror from head to toe.

#whumptober2020 #no.22 #do these tacos taste funny to you? #poisoned #drugged #original universe #envenomated #paralysis #lady whump #nonhuman whump #bugs #spiders #poor lil droplet's gotta be frog lassie now :(