#yes I know the lantern he uses is supposed to be metal

[bunnyscar]

The Siliven's Request: Part 21

“Sara?” Manas’ voice spoke near her, and she forced her eyes to open. Though the sky was still dark and the lantern had gone out, Alaine could make out the cliff above her and the river rushing past on the other side. Sitting next to her with a look of concern was Manas, his blue and white eyes seeming to glow in the dark. Though he looked tired and worn, he was alive. With a cry, Alaine flung her arms around him, startling him and almost knocking them off the ledge into the river. He was alive, he was alive, he was alive!

“S-Sara, are you all right?” Manas finally asked.

Pulling herself away and drying her eyes, Alaine nodded. “Yes, I’m just so happy that you’re alive,” she sniffled.

“Yes...somehow,” Manas replied. “But are you all right? How did you find me?”

Alaine proceeded to explain how she had been shielded from the bombs, how the Siliven children had found her, how she had talked with Kelsin and discovered Manas’ disease, and how she had found Manas and used the necklace to save him. Manas frowned when she mentioned being with Silivens, but he listened without interrupting her until she mentioned using the necklace.

“You were supposed to use the wishing stone to protect yourself,” he said.

Somewhat angrily, Alaine retorted, “But if you died, it wouldn’t matter if I were protected or not!”

Manas’ eyes widened. Alaine looked away, her face turning slightly red. “I see. I’m sorry I made you worry,” he murmured. There was an awkward pause after that. Manas finally broke it by saying, "This Kelsin, are you sure we can trust what he said?"

"He didn't seem to be lying. And he was very kind to me, especially considering the circumstances," Alaine said. In a softer voice, she murmured, "Besides, he called you his grandchild."

Manas glanced at her, then said slowly, "Well, I suppose it's good to know you have allies on the Siliven side. Who knows what will happen with this war...."

After another pause, Alaine asked, “Do you think that the wishing stone healed you of your disease?”

Manas shook his head. “No, probably not. My eyes are still blue and white, aren’t they? And the wishing stone grants only one specific request, so even if it kept me alive I doubt that it fully healed me.”

“I guess I should have wished that it would take away the disease entirely,” Alaine said regretfully.

“Well, you still saved my life, didn’t you? And since it only grants one request, it’s hard to make it fix everything,” Manas said with a shrug.

Alaine nodded, then said determinedly, “But that means you have to promise to not use your metal abilities anymore.”

“Not even in emergencies?” Manas asked with eyebrow raised.

“Not even to rescue me,” Alaine said firmly. “Promise?”

Manas considered her a moment, then sighed and said, “All right. I promise I won’t use them unless it’s an absolute emergency involving both of us. How’s that?”

“I’ll accept it,” Alaine agreed.

“Now then, we’d better find a way out of here,” Manas said. He looked up at the cliff thoughtfully. “The human army is up there...but our best bet is probably to find a way up the cliff or over the river.”

“The human army?” Alaine queried. Manas explained how he had carried Pim to the human army and then fallen off the cliff. “Thank goodness Pim is safe,” Alaine sighed in relief.

Manas nodded then said, “If we follow this cliff, we might find a staircase up.”

Seeing Alaine’s surprised face, Manas explained, “If I’m remembering right, there are two big rivers in this part of the land, with several of these cliffs lining the rivers. A long time ago, dwarves carved their homes into the cliff-sides and tunneled deep underground. That’s probably why the hole you entered was a tunnel that led here. So if we keep going, we might find one of the dwarves’ staircases.”

“Wow, you sure know a lot, Manas,” Alaine exclaimed.

“I did a good amount of research about different things when I was looking for someone with your ability,” Manas responded.

“You mean after you were exiled?” Alaine asked. Come to think of it, she never had really asked what he had been doing during the time between his exile and when he had come to her uncle’s shop.

Manas nodded. He hesitated, then said, “I was exiled after the war ended, and it was only a year or two later that I found you. During that time, I was mostly doing research about the land and about memory abilities.” Manas struggled to his feet, holding onto the cliff wall. He winced slightly when he tried to put weight on his wounded left leg. Though his wounds appeared to not be bleeding anymore, they were still painful. “We should go,” he said.

“Here, you can lean on me too,” Alaine said, resting his other arm on her shoulder. They made their way slowly along the rock ledge, Manas holding onto the cliff wall with one hand while Alaine supported his other arm. Though the sky became slightly lighter as the sun rose, smoke hung thick in the air above, making it dark. Gingerly, the two made their way along the rock until they came to a staircase carved into the cliff.

“You were right, Manas!” Alaine cried in excitement. Glancing at Manas, who looked exhausted, Alaine suggested they rest for a bit before continuing. He nodded and they sat down on the bottom stair. With a weary sigh, Manas rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Perhaps it was because of his wounds, or perhaps he was still recovering from his bout of sickness, but he seemed very weak. Despite that, Alaine smiled to herself. He was alive. That was enough.

Link to Part 20:

#fantasy #original story #siliven

[sidehugsnsideblogs]

FCSU #81 Making Due

The gift baskets were now arriving weekly at the Swamp House. Farrah was embarrassed but accepted them all the same. She knew they weren't deliveries from Roy. He sent bare necessities once a month, and they arrived in a soggy cardboard box left out in the rain. The baskets by comparison, were placed on the deck, where they were safe and mostly dry.

One night Farrah decided to confront her secret admirer. She lay in wait under the broken front window. Eventually she heard footsteps on the deck. Summoning all her courage she sprung up to face him. "Who are you?" She tried to mimic Rachel's assertive voice. "What do you think you're doing?"

Just as she planned, she startled the man. He looked about thirty, dressed in old ripped jeans and a cozy, warm looking suede jacket. "I'm your neighbor. I saw that you have kids with you. There's no power in that shack so I wanted to make sure y'all have food." It was the same farmer who’d caught her in his garden!

"I'm not supposed to talk to you, I'm not supposed to talk to anyone!" She rambled, her tough façade crumbling. He looked taken aback. "Okay, so stop talking to me then. You don't have to talk to me. Can I still send you food, though?" Farrah thought of her own pitiful garden. "Yes." He chuckled "Alright, then. God bless!" He said as he turned away into the night. Farrah was flustered by this interaction, good Priesthood women never spoke to townies!

Though it was against her religion Farrah began adding the eggs to their salads and giving the girls milk to drink, no one complained. Actual nutrition had an amazing impact on them all. Once they started eating some protein, they found enough strength to start improving their environment. Farrah requested some tools and materials from Roy at his next visit.

First she fixed the windows. She made Roy go into town to buy new windows and then installed them herself. She reinforced the clothesline to make it stronger and hung up more lanterns throughout the house so it was partially illuminated, at least. She dug out an old woodworking bench from the basement and got to work, determined to build a table and some chairs. Farrah quickly found that she HATED handiness projects but she persevered nonetheless. Who else was going to fix up the place?

Farrah began to pester Roy to buy her a fridge and stove so she could make proper meals for the kids. He relented in the end and bought her a used fridge, he refused a stove since they were only supposed to be eating salads. She decided not to push the issue as she was also gunning for better beds and didn't want to make him angry.

The house was starting to feel a bit like a home at least. The girls studied and prayed and slept happily in the little cabin. But winter was coming and Farrah was worried about them all freezing to death. It seemed like she wasn't the only one, however because the next basket arrived with a makeshift woodstove, scrap metal to make a chimney and a note reading "SUPRISE!"

It took her several days to get it figured out and hooked up properly but the woodstove was a massive improvement. One morning Farrah awoke early, snuck back out to the farmer's field and just stood there, playing she violin. She hoped the sound would carry over the yard to the farmer's house.

This became her routine. The day after a basket was delivered, Farrah would go out to the fields to serenade the Farmer as a symbol of her gratitude. Now that Lily-Anne had aged up she’d sometimes bring all three girls, they didn't know what she was doing, they just figured she liked practicing outside. 

#fundie sims #fcsu #fundie tumblr #fundiesims #sims 4 story #cult blog #sims 4 #the sims 4

[softforloki]

Chapter 8: The Fallout

Chapter List

Word Count: 3,067

Summery: Loki faces the aftermath of Selene's confession....as well as the consequences of his own actions.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Explicit mentions of child abuse, neglect, and dead naming (cisgender character, just no longer uses birth name) at the very beginning. Scroll until the first break if these topics disturb you

. . .

Selene was writhing against him.

Loki was woken up in the middle of the night by something shaking against him. He opened his heavy lids, brain fuzzy and confused. He couldn’t see much in the dark, but he felt something moving. He heard whimpers. Memories of the hours before came flooding back with a sickening twist in his gut. Selene.

“Selene, you’re having a nightmare.” He realized, shaking her gently. “Wake up, darling, please.”

He turned her onto her back. Her face glistened with sweat, and her brow was furrowed. Loki smoothed his palm across her forehead, brushing hairs aside.

“What torments you, my love?” He whispered, broken and desperate. He pressed his hand against her heated skin.

Suddenly, Loki felt himself being pulled from his body. His consciousness was no longer in the darkened hotel room; he was standing in a large, unlit basement. He squinted against the darkness to see stone walls, metal support beams covered in rust, and a rickety looking set of stairs leading to a door.

“Damn it,” He muttered, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. His mother had taught him the spell only under the promise that he’d only use it with the expressed permission of the person whose memory he was diving into. He rarely used it, so he’d forgotten how easily activated it was- all one had to do was touch a subject’s head and wish to see into their mind. It was even easier when they were sleeping.

He was about to pull himself out of the memory, but then the door at the top of the stairs swung open and light flooded the basement.

“No, no please I don’t wanna go! I’m sorry, I’ll do it, please don’t make me go!”

Loki’s heart dropped to the very pit of his stomach. Dread pooled in his chest as he watched a young girl, bicep clutched by a woman who was yanking her down the stairs.

“I’m disappointed in you, Lilith. You should know by now that when you disobey, you get punished.” The woman tsked, a poisoned motherly tone curdling around her words. “You don’t want to listen? You get to sleep in the basement.”

“But I’ll do it! I’ll do it, don’t make me!” The girl- Lilith?-  protested, sobbing loudly as she tugged against her mother.

“I suppose we’ll see if you’ve kept that attitude after your time-out is over.” The woman replied blankly, throwing her down the rest of the stairs.

The girl landed with a painful sounding thump near Loki’s feet, crying out in pain. He quickly knelt down near her, reaching out despite his inability to touch, be seen, or heard by her.

“Do you understand me, Lilith?” Her mother asked, tone sharp.

“Yes,” She mumbled, voice cracking.

“Good. We’ll see you in the morning.” The woman replied curtly. She ascended back up the stairs, and left the basement, taking the light with her.

The girl crawled across the floor to an electric lantern Loki hadn’t noticed, lighting it. In the dim glowing circle he could now see her clearly. She had long, blond hair, hanging partially in front of her face as she curled into a defensive ball. Loki leaned closer to her, trying to peer around her hair to see her face. He gasped. 

It was Raven.

Only, it wasn’t. Her nose was different, her eyes were a slightly different shape, and she was older; eleven or twelve, perhaps. Not to mention the woman- who’d called her Lilith- had clearly not been Selene-

Oh.

Oh no.

Loki made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, scrambling ungracefully onto his feet as he watched a young Selene Lovelace, before she had given herself that name, rock herself back and forth, crying quietly. 

The sleeve of her shirt slipped off her shoulder. From his vantage above her, Loki saw a deep cut down the back of the shoulder. His finger tingled with the memory of the sensation of Selene’s scars, and he quickly moved to get a closer look.

Loki knew from his time as a warrior what blade inflicted wounds looked like. The cut appeared fairly fresh, no more than a week or so old. There was only so much he could see without being able to physically move the fabric, but he was certain it was not the only of its kind.

Bile rose in his mouth as he ripped himself away from young Selene. He squeezed his eyes shut, summoning his flickering concentration to pull himself out of the memory, to dismiss the spell, to get out of there as quickly as-

Loki woke up in a flash in the dark, still in his seated position on the hotel bed. He ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair, twining them together and folding his hands on the top of his head with a shaky exhale. 

His mind was racing a mile a minute. Thoughts, theories, and past interactions with Selene all swirled through his subconscious. He replayed the memory again and again, until he knew with grim certainty he’d never forget a single second of the encounter. He was so caught up in what he’d just witnessed, he very nearly missed present-day Selene lying below him, brow twitching from the nightmare she was still experiencing.

“My sweet love,” He whispered, pressing a hand again to her forehead. “I’m so sorry,”

This time, he focused his magic on a dreamless sleep charm. Green light glowed under his hand until Selene’s face relaxed, and she let out a little sigh. He laid his fingers gently on her cheeks, pressing a tender kiss to her brow. 

He watched her chest rise and fall with her steady breathing, taking stock of his situation.

He’d just inadvertently invaded Selene’s dream, where her mind had been playing out a memory from her past. A memory of a cold, lonely, and abusive childhood. He now had insight into her past, but at the cost of peeking into it without her knowledge or consent. Shame curdled in Loki’s gut, and he hung his head.

I have to tell her. He decided. She deserves to know what I’ve done and what I’ve seen. I owe her an apology, and the reassurance that she doesn’t owe me any sort of explanation of that particular memory or of anything from her history.

He allowed himself to sink back into the pillows and sheets next to Selene, and pull her slumbering body close to his. He pressed his face into her shoulder, snuggling into her. He closed his eyes and clutched her like a lifeline, as though he could beg forgiveness this way.

I can’t lose her. Not to this, nor to anything else that may come our way. She’s far too good for me, and I love her far too much to let something this wonderful slip from my fingers.

His eyes shot back open. He had no idea where the thought had come from, but he knew at that moment how true it was. He loved her. He loved her words, be they thoughtful and practiced or biting and witty. He loved her strength and grit. He loved her loyalty and compassion. He loved her mind, and her soul. He loved her, so deeply and so genuinely he felt his eyes burn at the pure power of it all.

He gazed at Selene’s peaceful face, a small smile pulling at her lips.

He loved her.

He smiled as well, pulling her gently into his arms, resting her head on his chest.

He loved her.

He did not sleep the rest of the night. He watched over her to make sure her slumber was peaceful and undisturbed. 

He loved her.

. . .

“MAMA!”

Selene laughed, gleefully scooping the squealing girl into her arms. “Raven! I missed you, birdie!”

Raven wrapped her arms and legs around her mother, clinging to her like a monkey. Loki chuckled warmly at the exchange as he stepped off the Quinjet’s ramp.

“I missed you too!” Raven hummed, disentangling herself as Selene lowered her to the ground.

“You’re getting too old to be picked up.” She grumbled, playfully pushing her daughter away. “I’m not strong enough for that anymore.”

“Nonsense,” Loki interjected, coming up on the pair. “You’re very strong, my dear, Raven’s just a big girl.”

“Loki!” The girl exclaimed, throwing herself at him, next.

“Hello, sweetness. Did you miss me, too?” He enthusiastically lifted her up, setting her on his hip and holding her up with his Asgardian strength. 

“Mm-hmm, a lot.”

“More than you missed Mum?”

Selene shot him a playfully dirty look. “Don’t turn my kid against me, jerk.”

Raven giggled. “I missed you the same amount.”

“Ah. I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied with our shared status.” Loki lamented to Selene, hugging the young girl against him as she continued to snigger.

Selene rolled her eyes, moving to speak to Clint Barton, who’d been awaiting their return. Raven had been staying with the Bartons during his and Selene’s absence. According to her, she’d only trusted Barton with her daughter once he'd told her he had children on his own.

He watched the two of them chat, presumably about Raven’s stay, and how it went. Still holding the girl, Loki found himself drifting closer to them, but stopped short when he remembered last night. Flashes of a girl who looked far too much like the one currently in his arms crossed his vision.

Guilt once again overtook him. Who was he, to love this wonderful woman after he’d invaded her privacy? Who was he, to hold her incredible child after he’d gazed, uninvited into her own horror story of a childhood?

Immediately clocking Loki’s sudden mood change, Raven fixed him with a concerned look. “Are you okay? You got sad.”

Clever girl. Loki smiled tiredly at her, bouncing her a little on his hip so he could readjust his grip. “Some things have….happened. Things I need to work through. But rest assured, little bird, I will work through them. All is well, I promise.”

She squinted at him, and Loki got the very distinct feeling she was trying to decide whether or not he was lying. “Did something happen with Mom?”

Very clever girl. Loki laughed softly. “In a way, yes, but we will handle it. Everything will be alright.”

“Okay,” She replied, still unsure.

He chuckled, setting her on the ground and crouching to her level. “Come now, have you ever known me to lie to you?”

“You’re the god of lies.” She replied tersely, though she was smiling.

“My question still stands, little one.”

Raven pouted. “No.”

He smiled, tapping her lightly on the nose. “And I intend to keep it that way, both with you and your mother.”

He booped her again, as Raven laughed and shied away from his finger. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Good.” He grinned, getting to his feet. “Now, why don’t we save Mum from that conversation? She must be positively bored to death.”

A grin appeared on her face that Loki could only possibly describe as wicked, and Raven rushed over to Selene and Barton. She tucked her face in her mother’s stomach as she hugged her around the middle. Selene let her daughter steal her away from her discussion, burying her nose in Raven’s long, blond hair.

He watched mother and child hug once again, and he let himself smile softly. He watched Raven clutch Selene as though she were her whole world. He watched Selene cradle Raven with the sort of tender ferocity that might make one tear the world apart for the sake of their loved ones. Waves of love and fondness washed over him.

He loved Selene.

But he realized with a quiet, stunned chuckle that he was growing to love Raven, too.

. . .

Selene didn’t comment on Loki’s continually awkward, hovering behavior until later that evening. 

“Would you like to talk about what’s bothering you?”

He was helping her cook dinner; carefully stirring a pot of boiling noodles. He looked up at Selene, who’s attention was fixed on the beef and vegetable she was pushing around a sizzling pan. He chuckled ruefully. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“Not when you’re being weird like this.” She replied, sprinkling garlic powder over her mixture. “I thought you were supposed to be the god of lies.”

“You’re the second person today to point that out to me, you know.”

“Well, you’re bad at your job.”

Loki shrugged with an overly dramatic sigh. He stabbed a fork into his noodles, blew on it, and popped it into his mouth, chewing contemplatively. Needed a few more minutes.

“Loki.” Selene prompted, eyebrows raised in question. “Are we gonna talk about what’s bothering you?”

“It’s less of something we have to talk about, more of something I should confess to you.” He admitted, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Now I’m scared.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, looking pointedly into the bubbling water of his pot. “Last night, you had a nightmare. Do you remember that?”

Selene hummed in thought. “Maybe. I think I remember a nightmare, don’t know what it was about, though. Why? Did I wake you?”

“Yes, but that’s not it. In my attempts to soothe your sleep,” He took another breath, slower and deeper this time. “I….I accidentally activated a spell that allowed me access to your dream.”

Selene was quiet. Loki forced himself to look at her. She’d stopped stirring the contents of her pan- in fact she’d dropped her spoon into it. She stared down at the quietly fizzling oil, eyes wide and unseeing.

“Darl- Selene?” He felt unworthy to call her any of the sweet names he normally would. 

“What did you see?” She asked quietly.

Loki moved the noodles off the burner and turned off the heat so he could give her his full attention. He leaned over to do the same to her pan as he began to tell her about the dream. He told her about the basement, the girl, the woman, and the brief yet horrifying exchange they’d had. He skewed his eyes shut as he told her about the name she’d abandoned, and the scar he’d seen on her back. Tears pushed against his closed lids.

Selene had yet to look at him. She twisted the beads of her crystal bracelets, her own eyes starting to water.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Selene. I’m not in any way asking for an explanation, I’m simply telling you what I saw because you have a right to know.” He held his hands out like a peace offering. “I witnessed a moment in your life that was vulnerable and private, and I deeply apologize for that.”

She nodded, and Loki was relieved just to have garnered any sort of reaction. She stared at his hands, but did not move to take them or push them away. “I’m upset with you. I understand that you didn’t mean it so I think I forgive you, but I’m still upset.”

“I understand.” He nodded, exhaling softly. “I wouldn't expect you to just be alright with this.”

She smirked, finally looking up at him as she took his hands. “I don’t take bullshit.” She joked quietly.

“No, you do not.” Loki chuckled, raising her hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles. 

Selene tightened her fingers around his. “You’re right. What you saw was a really dark part of my life that I’m not totally comfortable sharing at the moment. I think I’m coming to terms with what happened to me and I’m healing, but I’m not yet at a point where I feel like I can speak freely about it.”

“I understand.” He repeated, gazing earnestly into her eyes.

“Someday I want to tell you about it,” She continued. “You’ve been making things so much better and so much easier, but for now I’d rather leave this here, and maybe not come back to it for a hot minute.”

“Take all the time you need, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will be here when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Loki.” She said it with weight, touching his face briefly. She gestured to the food abandoned on the stovetop. “Now then. What say we put these together? I’m starving.”

“Oh- yes, of course.” Loki had nearly forgotten about dinner. He drained the water and carefully tilted the noodles into Selene’s pan, where she stirred them into her mixture.

“Can you set the table?”

“As you wish.”

Loki set bowls around the dining table as Selene glided down the hall, knocking on Raven’s bedroom door. “Dinner’s getting on the table. Wash up, please.”

Loki watched with a soft smile as the child skipped down the hallway to the bathroom as her mother rejoined him. “You know,” He began, chuckling lightly. “Given my personal history, I’m not at all surprised that in the two weeks of this relationship I’ve nearly ended it with my foolishness.”

Selene let out an unexpected bark of laughter. “Loki-love, you didn’t screw up that badly. It takes more than accidentally watching some of my worst trauma to get rid of me.”

“How could I possibly do worse than that?” He asked incredulously.

She twined her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her height. “I trust that we won’t have to find out.”

Loki hummed in ecstasy as she kissed him deeply. He settled a hand on her waist, the other clutching the back of her head. He lost himself in her skin, her scent, her lips, SeleneSeleneSeleneSelene-

“Ew! Mom!"

Loki startled away from the kiss, though his hands stayed firmly anchored to Selene. They stared rather awkwardly at the nine-year-old gaping up at them.

“Hey, kiddo.” Selene said casually, disentangling herself from Loki. “Hungry?”

“I knew it!” She cried, pointing an accusatory finger. “I knew he was your boyfriend!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re very smart.” Selene ruffled her daughter’s hair affectionately. “Why don’t we sit down and eat? You can ask us whatever you want.”

Raven, a triumphant gleam in her eye, scrambled up to her seat at the table as Selene swept dinner into the dining room. As she scooped food into Raven’s bowl, she made eye contact with Loki. They shared a warm smile.

For tonight, all was well.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki friggason x reader #loki x oc #loki x female oc #loki x fem oc #loki marvel #marvel loki

[buildugsroamin]

Parallel Botany, Part 5

“Nice weather today, huh?” asked Malagasy as he and one of the sisters (he’d forgotten her name) clattered down the hall.

“I suppose it is.”

Malagasy sighed. Why was everyone in this Kibforsaken place so cryptic?! At least the bats were lively that night, if nothing else. He wondered how they must think of the two of them, puttering down below. Did they even consider they had their own lives, their own adventures to get to?

But he did not have long to think. Like so many other places in the Monastery, the Archives were dark and foreboding, no matter how many lights were lit. Rows and rows of shelves and drawers stretched out on either side of them, going far past where what little light the glowing lanterns provided could reach. On the sides of these shelves, yellowing placards with numbers had been attached, allowing Malagasy to appreciate just how vast the place was. Under his arm, wrapped in burlap, he held a treasure that could change the way they understood their new home forever.

Malagasy, the Chief Archivist, and Madame Saguaro herself.

The three of them stood around a table, staring at the long, burlap wrapped object before them.

“Alright, let’s give it a look.”

Tepidly, Malagasy undid the leather packaging, revealing the curious object.

“Traveller, what is it we gaze upon?”

Malagasy paused, sweat dripping down his temples.

“Well, the the guy who sold it to me said it’s some kind of human weapon. See, you open it…” He explained, gripping both ends, then with a swift snap, splitting it open on a brass hinge. “And then you put in a little metal ball with some black powder, so it fires.”

“And you believe that’s how the old inhabitants of this world used weapons?” Saguaro’s voice was firm, but Malagasy could detect just a hint of judgement in it.

“Well, I suppose so…” He answered as one braces for impact. “This is much too elaborate to be a forgery…”

“THINK, Malagasy,” began Saguaro, “Just look how much metal this single artifact contains. Do you think it could conceivably be manufactured en-masse on this planet?”

“Well, I guess it’s unlikely…”

“Malagasy, the surface of this planet is primarily oxygen and silicon. Hypothetically, there could be enough an area of the planet where tectonic movement thrust rare metals close enough to the surface to be attainable, but-“ She gestured to the darkness, and the vast waters beyond it. “As far as we know, there is ocean, everywhere.”

Yeah, says the lady who never leaves her house. Thought Malagasy. But of course, he didn’t say it out loud.

“Not to mention the mechanics that go into such an artifact.” Continued Madame Saguaro. “It uses ignition to fire, correct?”

“Uh, yes?”

“And why would the masters of this world use a weapon that is useless in over seventy percent of the planet? Would it not be easier to genetically modify shrimp to fire rapid projectile rounds, as was achieved on our homeworld?”

“I mean, I guess so, but you presume intelligent life must have evolved in this planet’s ocean. It’s entirely possible sapience could have developed in a terrestrial ecosystem.”

“And why would THAT happen, Malagasy, when land exists only in isolated pockets? When they only have limited access to the metal from which these weapons are forged? When-”

Malagasy turned inward, focusing on his own thoughts. Why did he still do this? Going to all the trouble to acquire rare and unusual artifacts, only to get condescended to by a delusional priestess living in a cave? And for all his desire to eventually convince Creosote to leave this place, was that REALLY feasible, all things considered? Was he just being selfish, in wanting her to still like him? Why did he have to be so introspective about things like this? Why couldn’t he just take life as it was, like-!

“Malagasy, are you unwell?”

Four words shot Malagasy back to reality, where Madame Saguaro’s stare threatened to bore a hole through his soul.

“No.” He sighed, then thought about it, and added “Ma’am.”

Saguaro nodded. “Good. It does one well to learn from their mistakes.”

And so Malagasy returned to wondering, wondering if maybe Vera had a point about him…

As the adults debated down below, two children wandered on the back of a long dead lizard. Azul inhaled gently, letting the morning air into her lungs. It was strange, being out in the garden at this time of day, when normally she’d still be whittling away in the Scriptorium. Perhaps this was Kib’s way of awarding her valorous life. Or perhaps, as Sister Barrel would say, this was a sign of her innate evil, having swayed the innocent maiden…

“Are you okay?” Vera asked.

Azul, roused from thought, realized she’d gotten within six feet of the guest, and promptly backed away.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Ma’am? I’m not that old!”

It took everything in Azul’s power not to curl into a little ball of shame.

“Hey.”

Azul opened her eyes to see Vera looking right at her, the way a child might inspect a beached jellyfish.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yes.” Was the curt reply.

“No you’re not! You’re stuttering and stuff!”

Azul could only wince at this. What had she ever done to deserve such kindness?!

“Hey, I’m sorry. Let’s just forget I said anything okay?”

“O-okay.”

“So why does everything here look like something else?”

“Well, biomimicry is a common adaptational strategy in nature…”

 Vera shook their head. “I mean, I know that! But I’ve never known a place where so many creatures do it!”

“W-whatever do you mean?” Was the quick reply. Though Azul immediately regretted saying something that could be construed as a barb.

“Like, how the flowers are mosquitoes, and the flowers look like bugs! Or how the snakes are plants, or-!”

The Prodigy recited “Via a process known as natural selection, organisms accumulate favorable traits, which allow them to survive their changing environment and pass their genes to their offspring…”

“But what do you think?” asked Vera.

The Prodigy pondered this for a moment, then decided “It’s a form of atonement.”

“What do you mean by that?”

And Azul sweated. She was not used to dealing with people so… blunt. “See those orchids there?”

Vera did. It was a rich purple, but at the center were delicate orange petals arranged in such a way they bore a striking resemblance to a large bee.

“Their petals resemble a bee that once lived on this island, but has since gone extinct.”

“But there are so many patterns!”

The Prodigy shrugged. “There were a lot of bees.”

“Wait, so are you saying you…?”

“Correct. They were all killed off when we arrived here.”

For a time, they wandered aimlessly, neither knowing what to say.

Vera finally broke the silence. “So this is why you guys like in that Komodo all day and wear robes?”

“It’s a way of atonement.”

“And the reason we have to stay six feet apart?”

“The sickness might dwell in us still.”

Vera pondered this for a moment. The Prodigy understood, it wasn’t easy to-

“That’s stupid.”

Azul paused, then shook her head. Surely-

“I said, that’s stupid.”

No, the guest had absolutely questioned the edicts of the Monastery.

“H-how DARE-!” The Prodigy quickly calmed herself via deep breaths.

“I understand you do not have much knowledge of our ways, but I believe it uncouth for you to-!”

“But it is! Why should you pay for the sins of a bunch of old geezers?!”

They kicked a pebble. Bushes rustled as the creatures of the forest fled from the surprise missive.

“It’s stupid, I say!” To which their companion said nothing.

The Prodigy’s mind whirled. What to do in such a situation?!

And just like that, the answer was clear:

“You are incorrect. The ways of this Monastery must be held sacred, so that we might return to the motherland. There, we will be cured of our illness.”

“But that wasn’t your fault!” Vera retorted. “You guys didn’t know you were carrying something dangerous!”

“If not our fault, then why was it OUR life ship?” The Prodigy argued “Surely, of all the life ships that fled Venus in the rapture, why would a great plague find itself on ours in particular?”

“Or dumb luck.” Vera muttered.

The Prodigy, for her part, said nothing.

Inevitably, Vera spoke up.

“I’m sorry.”

And so the Prodigy found a new puzzle. How to respond to such a situation?

Vera could only stare as her friend paced about in circles.

“A-are you okay?”

For some bizarre reason, the nun in training pondered the question.

Was it better to lie and offer false assurance, or devote oneself to the truth? Or perhaps-?

 “Look, if saying I agree with you will get you to stop, will you?”

What to do what to do what to do-!

“Because I’m not going to! Not until you stop hurting yourself!”

The Prodigy inhaled. Azul exhaled. She just wanted to sleep.

“Look, just forget this, okay?” Vera stared at the ground.

#dispatch to venus #speculative biology #my writing #science fiction

[ikemenfics]

Fireflies

It’s winding down the end of summer and I thought...why not

Word Count: 2015 (think I could pull four more words outta my ass?)

For: @ashv716 cuz I see what you did there...Thank you so much for your support!  I hope this will suffice..

You sat in your corner of the hut.  How long has it been since Kennyo took you hostage?  A week?  Two?  You tried counting and failed.  [How does Sasuke keep up so well with the tracking of time here?]  It didn’t really matter.  What mattered was the fact that you were still here.

Kennyo, for all his talk, did treat you fairly at least.  You weren’t sure if that eased the fear of being kidnapped from the Oda forces or not.  Not that you’d been entirely there by your own will in the first place.  The cosmos were just having quite the kick knocking you about, weren’t they?  But there was something about your current captor…

You were sure you could see it, just behind his midnight eyes.  That deep, gnawing pain.  You knew the story...sort of.  Of how Kennyo and his men stood against Nobunaga and subsequently were defeated.  You knew that no loss in war was ever easy, so of course you understood how the pain got there.  But...it was still there, and it still moved you to see it every time.  Perhaps that was why when Kennyo released your bonds you didn’t run.  You were getting confused.  [Getting attached isn’t the plan.  You are going home soon.  You can’t drown in those pain filled eyes.  Stop thinking about his eyes.  Or his face...H-hello, heart?]  You sighed.  It seemed you went from the devil’s palace to something far more complicated.

“I’m coming in,” a gravelly voice greeted from beyond the hut and speak of the Buddha, Kennyo entered.  He carried a bowl, something you’d come to associate with being meal time for you.  Kennyo didn’t eat with you, but he always sat and watched as you did.  Guess the demon has to make sure you get all your nutrition for the day.  You reached out, giving a quiet thanks, and took your food.  

“There is no need to thank me,” came your response.

It was familiar banter.  You’d thank him, and he’d either tell you not to thank your captor for keeping you alive, or questioning why you would thank your captor.  After all, he did kidnap you.  You sometimes argued back, but today your preoccupied thoughts with the eyes gazing down at you in equal mix of shame, pity, and something you couldn’t quite name made you mute as you looked down towards your food.  It looked like namasu would be your dinner for today.  You took the chopsticks, giving a soft, “itadakimasu,” and took to your meal. 

It wasn’t anything Gordon Ramsay would fawn over, but as Sengoku cuisines went, it was good to you.  The fish had been grilled and the warmth of it relaxed you.  The vegetables of the salad seemed to have come from around the forest.  Definitely not the salad one would get from Miyabian or anything, but it was filling all the same.  You ate in silence, Kennyo silently watching you in a way that had your heart pattering inside you.  [Stupid stupid brain.  You had to bring up those eyes and now the heart ran off.  This wasn’t in the plan.]  You closed your eyes, put down your bowl and chopsticks, signifying you were finished.  Perhaps he expected to get stabbed with chopsticks, but Kennyo never seemed to take anything from your hands while chopsticks were present in either of them.  

“Do you need more?”  He asked, standing and taking your bowl.  You shook your head in the negative.  

“It was filling, thank you.”  

“Why do you thank me?  Do you still not realize the situation you’re in?”

“You keep asking and I keep telling you that I do..”

“Then why?”

Kennyo’s eyes crinkled, the confusion evident in his expression.  There was a lot of why happening in that face.  Why haven’t you run?  Why haven’t you cried?  Why haven’t you tried to fight?  You were pretty sure he had you pegged on the last one.  After all, fighting wasn’t exactly a common occurence of the 21st century and apparently your ‘I’m not a warrior’ status showed.  

You dared a glance up, really taking in his expression.  It was painful, those beautiful dark orbs.  The scar bisecting his face had nothing to the pain those wondrous pools held.  The silence stretched as you two simply watched each other.

Eventually, he sighed, the moment broken as his face turned from yours.  He opened the hut, handing the bowl to someone outside with a muttered word.  The guard that had been apparently assigned to watch your hut hurried away.  You blinked, confused.  Was Kennyo letting you go?  

He didn’t really look at you, opening the door wider, the sunset spilling into your tiny space.  The last vestiges of summer glowing in the world beyond.  That meant it wasn’t long until the wormhole opened and all of a sudden, you weren’t sure anymore that you were ready for it to.

“Come,” he said, stepping out, “You need to exercise.  No harm will come to you.”

“Not that I ever believed you would…” you whispered as you stood.  You did feel a bit stiff, the last few days of being locked away needing to be worked out as you stretched a bit.  

Your comment did not go unnoticed, a grunt being your answer as you walked outside.  It was bright and still warm, the night not quite having taken the summer’s day away just yet.  The sun was a dark orange sphere on the horizon, the sky painted in pinks and purples that marked the time.  It was stunning and your heart fitted a little more as another warmth claimed your back, Kennyo having stepped out of the hut behind you.  [It’s so romantic…]

You were prodded eventually to move, breaking you of your romance addled daze.  Your cheeks burned as you hid your face, Kennyo leading the way.  You walked the camp, a circuit you’d grown used to as you’d had to exercise every so often during your stay in the Honnonji hostel.  This time, though, instead of tracing your way back after stopping by the training grounds, Kennyo stepped further.

A hand reached back, taking your hand gently but firmly.  It took everything you had to keep your heart where it belonged as Kennyo guided you into the trees beyond the camp.  You stared at his hand, yours being swallowed inside his grip.  [His fingers are longer than I thought they were...He has nice hands.  Big and worn...but long and strong also..]

You failed to keep track where you were going, or how long you’d been walking, but soon it was dark.  Not quite night, but trapped in that twilight phase, the first stars peeking through the trees in greeting.  Kennyo stopped walking, allowing you to finally take in the scenery.  

Trees cast long shadows, making the forest darker than the time said it was.  You could hear the crickets coming out to play their songs.  You could hear an owl somewhere above your head, your facing turning upwards to find the source that you knew you wouldn’t discover.  Wind brushed through your hair, the coolness of night finally coming to take her due.  If the sunset was romantic and beautiful, the night was mysterious and content.

Kennyo still held your hand, his other holding up a strange paper tube with a handle you hadn’t realized he carried all the way out here.  He knelt, his hand still grasping yours and set the item down to strike his flint against a rock he’d found on the ground.  The small flame came alive and Kennyo moved it to the small wick inside, creating a small lantern’s glow.  It looked for all the world like a paper and bamboo gando lantern.  [Sasuke would thrill at seeing that here].  You were mesmerized at the small makeshift flashlight Kennyo had created.

“Are you tired?”  He asked.  You shook your head, now thoroughly curious what the monk had planned.  You continued to move deeper, the small glow forcing you to giggle at the small Slender references you knew the big man in front of you wouldn’t understand.  He glanced behind you, clearly having caught the small sounds you were making, but made no comment.  

It had already grown chill, the signal that night had fully overcame the world, when Kennyo stopped again.  His hand released yours, and the cold and lack of his touch immediately making you wish he’d take the action back. 

Instead, you asked, “Kennyo-san, why are we here?”

He looked over to you, his face softening, “Are you afraid?”

“No...curious.”

“You should be afraid.”

“I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are...why be afraid?”

Kennyo gave a wry grin, blowing out the light he’d made.  You could barely make out his face in the darkness.  “I am a demon.  You should be afraid…” he said, anguish clear in his whisper.

You tried to discern his expression and couldn’t.  Neither of you made a move.  The silent night stretched on forever and you didn’t know if you wished it would actually do so or if you’d rather something happened.

A flicker in the corner of your eye had you turning.  Kennyo’s eyes followed yours.  Another flicker.  Then a third.  Small little flicks of light were filling the scene around you as little fireflies came to life.  The forest took on a near ethereal glow as fireflies flitted towards the two of you.  

You looked towards Kennyo, noticing that, for the first time, his face was not a mask of age old hurts.  The grin from earlier still remained, his features looking years younger as he took in everything.  It was a rare show and you had front row seats.  Your heart did a dance and you just knew you were grinning like a teenager with a crush.  

Kennyo looked down to you, his night dark eyes showing tiny pricks of gold as the little glow bugs flew about their nightly business.  His face held an almost ironic humor as he took in your features.

“Seems even the Buddha agrees with you, princess,” he muttered.

You grinned back, “So...what now, mister demon?”  You couldn’t help needle the man after all the show he put into telling you of his dark nature.  

He huffed at that, shaking his head.  “It seems I’ve no choice…”

He leaned towards you, his lips snatching yours before you had time to blink.  His eyes stayed open, watching your face, your own eyes unable to close.  His lips lingered a moment or two before he pulled away, leaving you breathless.

It wasn’t some passionate ballad of tongues like most romantic kisses were, but even so you were swooning on your feet, giddiness making you a touch dizzy.  You giggled and arms were around you, steadying you on your feet.  

“How that Devil King managed to find such an innocent creature…” Kennyo started, his voice full of flustered exacerbation.  You pressed your face into his chest, trying for all the world to stop the blushing and giggling.  

You were soon enough able to calm yourself.  Glancing up at Kennyo again.  By then, his face has sobered, leaving you a little bummed at that.  You stayed in his arms as the night chirped and glowed around you.

“Kennyo-san…” you whispered, a sudden curiosity coming over you, “...why did you bring me out here?”

He opened his mouth, clearly at a loss for words.  His eyes narrowed as he seemed to consider the question.  

Finally, he responded, “It hurt me to see you so isolated.  I may be a demon, but even I could not bear to see such a beautiful flower wilt.”  He sounded confused, you leaning closer to prod him more.

“I figured I would come and show you what I could do…” he continued, “but found that I couldn’t get past how much it hurt to frighten you further.”  He gave a small huff of a laugh, “Some demon I have made…”

You nuzzled into his chest, taking in the scent, “Yeah…” you muttered, “some demon.”

#Honganji Kennyo #Kennyo Kosa #iksen #ikesen kennyo #ikemen sengoku fics #ikemenfics #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #there's probably errors #it's 3am i must be lonely #yes I know the lantern he uses is supposed to be metal #I figured it'd be a makeshift one...

[ragingbookdragon]

Batsis & Green Lantern, Sittin' In A Tree. K-I-S-S-I-N--Wait, Is That Our Sister? PT. 1

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Aye, looks who's back at it again with a fic like this! IT'S ME! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The creature was coming at him a lot faster than he’d thought it was, and he barely had enough time to form a wall before it slammed into him. Even then, the force of it hitting the green construct sent him back a hundred feet and into the side of an abandoned skyscraper.

Pain wasn’t really felt when in the suit, but man, it still threw him for a loop and he groaned as he picked himself up off the ground, shoving glass and concrete away from his body. He could hear the rest of the Justice League fighting outside and as he started back towards the hole his body had made, the creature came in.

And this time, he didn’t have any to react, and the glowing magenta beast was coming right at him—fast. He lifted his arms and started to will a construction when a low sound came from his hand and with wide eyes, he watched the glowing neon green ring faded dull.

“Shi—”

His suit faded instantaneously and the next thing he knew, he was being shoved into the wall. It cracked under the pressure and his skull felt as though it’d been split when it connected with the concrete. The creature’s giant clawed hands wrapped around his throat, starting to choke the life out of him and he scratched at the magenta skin, to no avail.

“He—lp!” he gasped. “Som—on—e hel—p!”

Black started to edge from the corners of his vision and a haze began to settle over his brain as his lungs stopped receiving air.

I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die like this. Someone, anyone, help!

Something cold splattered across his face, and suddenly the steel grip around his throat went slack. The weight of the creature fell away from him and he dropped to his knees and collapsed onto his back, gasping in lungfuls of air to his deprived organs.

When his head stopped spinning, and he found the strength to move, he rolled onto his side and immediately, he recoiled with a shout of fear. The creature’s big ugly head had been decapitated and was leaking a fluorescent blue blood—that’s probably what splattered on his face and he reached up, wiping a hand across his skin. He pulled his hand away and there was the neon ichor painting his palm.

“You’re weak, Rayner,” a voice commented disapprovingly.

He craned his neck up to see a woman who looked about his age wiping the neon blood from a silver sword before she sheathed it on her back, her white slit eyes finding his.

“You almost died because your ring ran out of power.”

Kyle huffed and unsteadily stretched his legs. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the woman that saved your life.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Thank you,” he said, casting one last look at the creature before looking back at her. “So, who are you again? You obviously know me?” he took a moment to examine her suit. It was black, with silver stripes and in the middle of her chest was a silver symbol, that of a Greek helmet. But what got Kyle was the bat wings that outstretched from the sides of the helm.

“Are you apart of Batman’s troupe?”

She grunted and tapped at the glowing screen on her wrist. “Yeah. Name’s Silver Sentinel.”

“Oh, I know who you are!” he grinned. “You’re Dick and Jason’s sister!”

“Yes, please, tell the world who my younger brothers are.”

Kyle’s face heated and he glanced down at his hands. “Sorry.”

She tapped a button and waited, then a voice came over the comm link.

Talk.

Her eyes found Kyle’s and she replied, “Rescued your Green Lantern about two klicks from your position.” A sneer came over her lip. “Fool let his ring run out of power.”

He stared at his hands as embarrassment crawled across his skin, flushing from his neck up to his cheeks.

Hmm. Can you get him back to New York?

“I could be persuaded.”

Sentinel.

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, whatever. I’ll take him back to NY.” Walking over to the hole in the wall, she saw a beam of light. “Need a hand down there?”

Negative. We’ve got it under control.

“Ten-four. Silver Sentinel out.” The line went dead, and she looked down at Kyle. “Well, are you going to keep sitting there on your ass or are you gonna get up?”

He scrambled to his feet, an apology rolling off his tongue. “Sorry.”

She merely grunted in return and started off towards the exit, him following rather quickly. As they got to the entrance to the floor, she walked over to the elevator and pried it open, and Kyle had to fight to not be impressed by her sheer strength. She placed some type of device between the open doors and clicked a button, and it spread, keeping them apart.

Next, she pulled out what looked like one of the grapple guns Kyle had seen her family carrying around, and pointed it at the ceiling of the elevator, pulling the trigger. It hit the top with a clink, and she gave it an experimental tug before looking over at him.

“Come here,” she commanded, and Kyle blinked as something tight shot through his gut at the tone she carried—one of force and complete authority. Something told him that she was the type of woman who did what she wanted and expected people to fall in line behind her or else. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve been aroused or terrified, but it was probably a mix of both as he walked over.

She curled an arm around his waist and tugged his body up against hers. “Put one of your arms around my shoulder, the other around my body.”

“I—uh—I don’t feel comfor—” Kyle stuttered as his cheeks turned scarlet and she glared at him.

“We’re not going to dry hump in the elevator like horny teenagers, Rayner.” She pulled them nose to nose and he tried not to wince as the black nose of the cowl pushed into his skin. “If you’d rather us grapple down the side of the building where everyone can see, then let’s go.”

He swallowed thickly and did as she’d said a moment earlier, putting one of his arms around her shoulder, the other wrapping snug around her back. “N-no. We can do this,” he agreed, and she grunted.

“Listen carefully, this is going to be scary because you’re not used to it, but the second our feet come off this floor, don’t panic. I’ve got you and I’m not going to drop you.”

Though her voice was harsh, he could feel the security. “And the claw holding us up?”

“Has a gripping force of two tons.” She looked at him and inched towards the opening. “We’ll be fine.”

Kyle stepped over and looked down into the cold and dark shaft, immediately feeling his heart-rate pick up and she sighed when she heard the sharp intake of breath.

“You’re such a baby,” she scowled and pulled them into the shaft. His arms tighten instantaneously and even his legs tightened around hers. “Gonna try and climb me, Rayner?” she teased.

“Shut up,” he hissed and buried his face in her shoulder pad. “Just hurry and get us down.”

She snorted and clicked a button, allowing them to descend at a faster pace than he would’ve liked. “I thought Green Lanterns were supposed to be fearless?”

“Usually when I’m somewhere I could fall to my death, I’m powered up.” He retorted, still burrowed in her shoulder. “This is a little different.”

“Relax, Rayner. I’ve got you.”

Kyle pulled his face away from her armor and stared at her, though all he could make out was the white slits. “How are you this strong? I know I weigh at least one-eighty.”

She grunted. “Yeah, I can tell.”

He blinked. “Are you calling me fat? That sounds like you’re calling me fat.”

“Your muscle mass could be better.”

“That wasn’t a no,” he griped and when she chuckled, it sent shivers down his spine.

“To answer your earlier question—”

“The one where you called me fat?” he interrupted, and she scowled at him.

“The one about how strong I am. I work out daily, Rayner, and I can lift a lot more than my weight.”

“How heavy—” he chuckled nervously when she glared at him. “I’m not gonna finish that question.”

“Good idea, Rayner. Might save you from being dropped.”

“Hardy-har-har. You’re hilarious,” he retorted, and suddenly his feet his something hard. He looked down and saw the elevator, and she shoved him back from her, clicking the button on the grapple gun.

It recoiled in a matter of seconds and she tapped a button on the side of her cowl as she stowed the gun, then she moved to the corner of the elevator and brought her foot down as hard as she could. Kyle winced when the hatch gave way and he wondered how powerful she was to kick through a metal latch in one hit.

She looked at him. “Come on. I’ll call the Batplane when we get outside.”

“I thought only Batman was allowed to do that?” he asked, and she scoffed.

“Let’s just say I’m the one who’s allowed to do whatever she wants, and things don’t get fucked up.” She disappeared down the hatch and a moment later, he heard the elevator doors being pried open. “Are you coming, Rayner? I’d be more than happy to leave you here without a ride home.”

Kyle hurried and squeezed down the hatch, grunting when his tennis shoes hit the floor. The elevator rocked and creaked and she made a noise that sounded a lot like the one Batman made when he was annoyed.

“Hurry up and get through the doors.”

He ducked under her arms and out onto the floor and she followed, letting the thick metal doors slam behind her. She strode ahead and tapped at her screen.

“Alfred, are you there?”

A moment later, an older voice came over the line.

Yes Miss Wayne. How can I assist you this evening?

“I need the Batplane at my position. Could you send it?”

At once.

“Thanks Alfie.”

Of course, Miss Wayne.

As they waited in the lobby of the skyscraper, she murmured, “If you’re not going to ask whatever you’re thinking about asking me. Stop thinking. It’s annoying.”

Kyle blinked. “How’d you—”

“Oh please.” she rolled her eyes. “You’ve opened and shut your mouth eight times in the last two minutes.” She gazed at him. “Just ask.”

“You’re really Bruce Wayne’s daughter? (Y/N) Wayne?”

“I am.” (Y/N) replied. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I dunno…it’s just kinda hard to believe that a famous model doubles as a vigilante at night.”

“Why’s that so shocking? My dad’s a multi-billionaire playboy by day and Batman by night. Are you telling me a woman can’t do it too?”

Kyle’s green eyes widened, and he shook his head. “What? No! That’s not what I meant! I just meant that with back-to-back photo shoots, it must be hard to make time to do all this.”

(Y/N) hummed, turning her gaze to the street, a blur of red went by and she knew it was Barry Allen. “I run on my own schedule, Rayner, not anyone else’s.”

“Wow, you really are the woman in charge, aren’t you?” he remarked.

And she turned her eyes onto him again, this time narrowed in amusement as she teased, “Trying to see if you can find out what it’s like to be in charge for the night?”

Kyle’s mouth opened and snapped shut. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, swallowing nervously.

She crossed over to him in one step, getting up in his personal space again as she cooed, “Oh, you don’t?” he nodded and she reached up, trailing her silver armored fingers up the front of his white shirt and he was incapable of fighting how his muscles twitched at the pressure.

“I think you do,” she flirted. “Come on, Rayner. Don’t you wanna see what it’s like when you’re the man in charge? How much fun it can be to take all that control?” (Y/N) leaned close, her face barely an inch from his. “To be the one who holds all that power over a woman?”

He couldn’t breathe. His head was swimming with R-rated thoughts that if she really were a mind reader, she’d probably break his jaw, but all he knew was that his mind was so far into the gutter it wasn’t funny, and he swore she could hear his heart pounding.

She pulled away. “You should break out on your own instead of working for a design company. Then you’d have better control over your own schedule.”

Kyle blinked, stunned silent, then he said, “Wait, what?”

(Y/N) cocked her head to the side. “What?”

“What was,” he gestured wildly. “All that just now?”

Placing a hand on her hip, she asked, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Rayner. All I said was that you should get on your own.”

A deafening sound shook the floor and Kyle stared at the black plane settling down in the middle of the street. (Y/N) walked out the doors and to it as if it just hadn’t pulled a “J-turn” at twelve G’s.

“Let’s go, Rayner. I’ve got better things to do than babysit you,” she called, and he ran after her. She helped him climb into it, then scowled. “Move over. You’re in my spot.”

He shimmied in the tight space to the other seat and strapped in, watching curiously as she tapped at the buttons and flipped switches before grabbing hold of the steering device.

Kyle snorted. “It’s even shaped like a bat.”

(Y/N) huffed. “Yeah, that’s how we do things in our family.” She tapped at the screen. “Batman, this is Silver Sentinel. Come in.”

Read you loud and clear, Sentinel.

“Green Lantern and I are in route to New York.” She paused and directed her gaze to the screen, watching red dots surround a group of blue ones. “You’ve got enemies incoming. Do you want backup?”

Negative. You and Green Lantern get back to New York. We can handle this.

For once that night, Kyle watched as concern crossed (Y/N)’s face and she replied, “Dad, I think—”

I gave you an order, Sentinel.

(Y/N) glared and looked at Kyle and he about shrunk in his seat form the withering stare; she tossed him a helmet and ordered, “Put that on and don’t puke in it.”

“Don’t what?” he inquired as he put it on and the only answer he got was the sudden kick of the engines and he was pulled back in his seat. “Holy shit,” he whispered breathlessly as the Batwing took a U-turn in the air and headed off towards the fight.

Sentinel, we’re fine.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe that,” (Y/N) retorted and in a matter of moments they were flying over the rest of the Justice League. She tapped at the screen. “You’ve got incoming hostiles from the north, east, and west.” (Y/N) flipped a few switches above her then pressed a button on the steering wheel. “Heatseekers and nanite missiles deployed.”

Kyle watched her go between the screen and the switches. “Hostiles in the east and west quadrants have been eliminated.”

What can you tell me about the north?

“You’ve got multiple hostiles coming in. Got a big guy too. Got any tips?”

They’re vulnerable to sound waves. Take him out and we’ll do the rest.

“Ten-four. Happy hunting.”

(Y/N) turned the steering wheel and directed the Batplane towards the north part of the fight, grinning when the giant creature came into view, while Kyle looked like he was going to crap himself.

“Merry Christmas, ugly. Kiss my ass,” she quipped and pressed a button, and a black tube the size of a fire hydrant shot to the ground, and with a thunk, sunk in.

“What’s that supposed to do?” Kyle asked and she grinned.

“Watch and learn.”

The device popped up, blue and armed and she hit the screen. Immediately the windows of every building and car in the mile radius shattered and to his amazement, Kyle watched the creatures screech and grab at their heads before they exploded into piles of neon blue goo.

His jaw dropped. “Holy shit. That was cool.”

(Y/N) smirked and checked the map once more. No more hostiles inbound and she hit the comm link again. “Justice League you are all clear. I repeat, Justice League you are all clear.”

Good work, Sentinel. Now do as I told you and take Green Lantern back to New York.

“Is nothing I do good enough for you, father?” she griped, though Kyle could see the humor in her eyes.

Get off the comm link.

“Make me.”

Sentinel. Get. Off.

“Fine, fine. I love you too.” (Y/N) pushed at the screen once more then reclined in her seat, shutting her eyes.

“Don’t you have to fly this thing?” Kyle asked as the engines picked up again.

“Nah. It’s got autopilot.”

“I gotta get me one of these,” he whispered, and she reached over him, pulling out something from a drawer. (Y/N) opened a snack bag and popped a cookie into her mouth.

“You could probably construct one with your ring,” she offered, then held out the bag.

He took one with a ‘thank you’, then said, “Yeah but there’s nothing like owning the real thing.”

“HA! Give my dad a couple million dollars and he might be willing to part with one.”

“And on that note, I’ll stick to constructs,” he chuckled, and the rest of their flight was filled with easy banter, where (Y/N) found herself teasing Kyle a lot more than he was comfortable with—only because he found himself lacking a comeback for every remark she gave him.

***

“You really gotta get a new apartment. This place is way too small for a grown man,” she commented, and he snorted, picking up a pair of shoes that were laying haphazardly on the floor.

“I’m not exactly on the billionaire’s credit card, (Y/N). I live on minimum wage and whatever I can get out of commissions.”

She observed Kyle as he recharged his ring and when he was finished, she asked, “How much do you charge for commissions?”

He blinked and looked up at her. “Oh, well it depends on what the commissioner wants me to do.”

“Give me a price range.”

“Uh…between eighty and two hundred. That’s usually what I charge.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment. “Mind showing me some of your best works? I’ve been thinking about hiring a graphic artist for a new project I’m working on.”

Kyle felt a giddy feeling rise in his chest and he practically tripped over himself to his desk to grab his sketchbook. His cheeks were warm when she giggled and took it from him, flipping through it in silence. And that wracked his nerves because without the cowl on, he could see just how scrutinizing her gaze was.

After a moment she passed it back to him and when she didn’t say anything, merely frowned, he couldn’t help but deflate a bit. “I guess it’s not what you’re looking for, huh?” he tried to sound light, but it came out a lot bitter than he meant.

(Y/N) hummed. “It’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

“I can get you in touch with a better artist at the—” he stopped mid-sentence and gaped at her. “Wait, what was that you said just now?”

She snorted. “I said your work is exactly what I’m looking for.”

He couldn’t fight the shock coursing through him. “Really? It is?”

Suddenly her smile was replaced with a scowl and she bit out, “Quit making me repeat shit and listen the first time.”

Kyle nodded. “Right. I just…wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“I know,” she replied cockily, then took out her phone and tapped at the screen before showing it to him. “I know you’re a graphic designer and not a clothing one, but you’d be really helpful with the new line of clothing and jewelry I’m planning on making.”

He took her phone gently and swiped at the pictures. “Justice League themed?”

(Y/N) tipped her head. “We’re doing an exclusive line for Gotham’s vigilantes first. If it pays well, we’ll go from there.” She took her phone back and stared at him. “I’m willing to pay you up to two grand for every design you give me.”

Kyle’s eyes practically popped out of his head and his jaw went slack. “Are you—are you being serious?”

She nodded and stowed her phone. “On one condition.”

He nodded. “For two grand a design? I’ll do anything for you.”

The corner of her mouth rose in a smirk and he realized his words too late as she purred, “Well I would love to see you on your knees for me. So, I’ll keep that in mind, Rayner.” Waving a hand, she added, “But besides that, if you want the job, you have to come to the manor.”

“Wayne Manor?”

“Mhm. I’ll provide everything you need to create and design.”

His dark brows furrowed. “I can do that, but why?”

A solemn look came across her face. “You almost got yourself killed tonight because you let your ring power down.” She placed her hands on her hips. “If you want this job, you’re going to take combat lessons from me and you’re going to start working out more.”

Kyle’s face pinched. “You want me to work out and get my ass kicked for a job?”

“More like so my brothers don’t lose a best friend.” She shrugged. “But, if a freelance artist like you can find better money elsewhere, I’d be happy to let you go and—”

“I get it!” he scowled and looked away for a moment before sighing and turning back to her, his hand outstretched. “Fine. It’s a deal. You pay me and I’ll do your designs.”

“And?” she questioned with a smirk.

He groaned, his muscles already feeling the pain coming. “And I’ll take lessons from you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I’m so glad we could come to an arrangement.” She shook his hand. “It’s going to be a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Rayner.”

Kyle swallowed thickly as she pulled away and walked to the fire escape. “Likewise, Miss Wayne,” he replied lowly, knowing that with each sway of her hips, he was getting more and more screwed. Not only was she his better, she was also his best friends’ older sister—hotter and badass older sister.

She opened the window and paused, looking back at him. “This’ll be a three-month project. Are you okay with that, Kyle?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” (Y/N) seemed to be thinking about something and he could tell. “Is something on your mind?”

She pulled on the cowl and gazed at him. “I’ve half a mind to tell you to pack a bag and spend the time at the manor while we do the project.”

“Pay my rent and I’ll consider it,” he snorted and then she blinked and shifted her gaze down to her wrist then tapped at it.

After a minute, she said, “Alright, your rent and utilities have been paid for the next three months.”

“What?”

“You said pay your rent. So, I did.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Kyle begged—he didn’t want to owe her like that.

She smiled. “Pack a bag Rayner. You’re moving in.”

“Seriously?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop making me repeat things?”

He sighed heavily, moving to pack. “Yes ma’am.”

“Ooo, call me ma’am like that again and I might not let you leave when this is over.”

#kyle rayner x reader #kyle rayner x reader imagines #kyle rayner x reader imagine #kyle rayner imagines #kyle rayner imagine #green lantern x reader #green lantern x reader imagines #green lantern x reader imagine #batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #batsis x batfam #batsis x batfamily #batsis x batfamily imagines #batsis x batfamily imagine #batsis imagines #batsis imagine #batsis #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine

[jordanstrophe]

Be a Good Guest part 1

CW: Whump, mild car crash, creepy intimate whumper, luring unsuspecting whumpees into some dark questionable woods, parental whumper, drugging. 

(They get names as the story progresses.)

Masterlist

Annnnd the most oblivious Whumpee title goes toooooo-

Whumpee drove down the endless road, nothing but dark trees surrounded him. This place gave them the chills... He just had a bad feeling every time he drove through. The sun had long set, so it was even creepier with only the dim headlights lighting up the forest, Whumpee was just waiting for a deer or bear to jump in front of the car at any moment.

The car started rattling and slowed down, as Whumpee let out a groan 

“Oh, no no no! Not now!” He cried out, as he tapped the breaks. To his horror, the car didn’t slow down any further. 

“Eh?” He gasped, slamming down on the breaks hard, as nothing happened. A sharp turn came, as Whumpee did his best to glide through, but the car skid with a shriek as it rammed head first into a large tree. Whumee’s face hit the steering wheel, slicing his lip. Whumpee gasped, immediately touching his fingers to his lip, blood falling down his chin. 

“Ow...” Whumpee muttered, pulling a napkin from the dash to hold to his lip. He climbed from the car, his heart sinking as smoke rose from the engine, letting off a hissing sound. 

“Someone tell me this isn’t happening...” Whumpee gasped to himself, shaking his head with a defeated sigh. 

“Are you okay?” A deep voice asked, as Whumpee squeaked in fear, whirling around. There was a man standing right behind him with a dim lantern in hand, swaying back and forth. He looked older, with curly grey hair.

“I’m f-fine.” Whumpee stuttered, lowering the napkin a inch, as blood immediately dripped down his face, he gasped and held it back up. Whumper took his wrists, lowing his hand as he shone the lantern to his face. Whumpee whimpered, trying to take a step back, but Whumper tsked. "Easy there son, let me see.” He instructed. He took his thumb gently to his chin, wiping away some blood. 

“I live in the woods not far from here. I can get you some ice for that. Does it hurt?” The man asked with a sweet smile.  

“I'm okay... Do-... Do you have a phone?” Whumpee stuttered.

The man paused, his wide eyes glinting from the light as he stared at him.

“Of course I do! Why don’t you come with me, you can spend as much time as you like.” The man tilted his head to the side with a grin.

“N-no thank you! That won’t be necessary... I could just really just use a phone.” Whumpee nervously laughed. 

The man’s smile faded slightly. 

“... Of course! Whatever makes you comfortable, got someone waiting for you?” He asked. 

“Yeah! Lots of people, whole group of roommates!” Whumpee completely lied though his teeth. He lived alone in reality. 

“Hmm, is that so?” He asked, looking him up and down. “ Well, wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.” He nodded, coaxing him towards the dark endless woods.

Whumpee cringed, knowing this was a terrible idea, but what other choice did he have? He was in the middle of nowhere, no phone, no car, no signal, besides, the man seemed nice. Right?

Whumpee yelped when the man wrapped an arm around his, locking it in place. 

“Sorry dear, I didn’t mean to scare you. Come on now! You’ll catch a cold if you wait out here all day. I’ll make you a hot tea.” Whumper pulled him through the woods, the uneasy grip made Whumpee feel both uncomfortable, yet somehow comforted and safe at the same time... 

There was a dim yellow light in the distance, as Whumper lead them to a log cabin in the middle of the woods.

“You live here?” Whumpee asked, looking around. Whumper carefully walked him up the steps, making sure he made it up alright.

“Yes I do! Lovely isn’t it? So peacefully, so quiet. None of that pesky traffic noise at night.” He waved.

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” Whumpee asked. Whumper stopped with the rusted key halfway in the door. He stood frozen for an unusually long time, as Whumpee immediately regraded his question. 

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mea-” “-No no! It’s fine. You’re right, I suppose it can get a little lonely all the way out here. I hope it’ll change soon though.” He smiled.

“Oh! Are you going to get a pet?” Whumpee asked obliviously, with excitement in his voice. Whumper blurted out a laugh as he pulled Whumpee into the house by his arm. 

“Not quite, young man, not quite.” He chuckled to himself. 

The cabin was dim, long dark curtains covered the windows, small candles and lanterns around giving the room a soft glow. It was an old house, but well kept aside from some clutter. But there were unusual metal hooks all over the walls and floors.

“Phone?” Whumpee asked, tugging at Whumper sleeve.

“Phone?” Whumper repeated back with puzzle in their voice.

“Yes, the phone you said I could use?” Whumpee tilted their hair, raising an eyebrow.

“OH! Yes! That phone, of course, right over here.” Whumper kicked the door, as it slammed shut behind them, leading him into a kitchen. “Right there! I’ll get a kettle on.” He smiled. He grabbed an old wooden chair from the table, setting it next to an ancient looking wall phone. 

“Woah, I haven’t seen one of these in forever.” Whumpee puzzled, tapping a nail on the old phone. Whumpee jolted at the stove letting out a loud squeak as Whumper turned it on, giving him a creepy smile. Whumpee took a deep breath, as he sat down, lifting the phone to his ear.

Silence. 

“Does it... Work?” Whumpee glanced back.

“Of course it works!” Whumper hollered, as they both froze, staring at each other.

“Ahh, I mean, just give it a minute, there’s a delay sometimes.” He waved his hand. 

“Mm.. Mmkay.” Whumpee muttered, he had no idea how that worked, but he  dialing in numbers anyway.

Silence. 

“Just give it a few more minutes!” Whumper called. “Are you sure? It’s still silent.” Whumpee muttered, his voice getting shaky, his body visibly beginning to tremble. Whumpers eyes shot off the kettle when he noticed his nervousness, grabbing another chair and sitting it next to him. 

“Dearie! Don’t be frightened. I know you had a rough night, just relax, everything will be okay.” He coaxed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, handing him a icepack. Whumpee just let out a small nervous mumble in response, whispering a thank you as he held the ice to his busted lip.  

“Tea is done! It’ll help calm your nerves. I know you must be frightened, you were in a car crash for goodness sake!” He grabbed Whumpee’s chair, twisting it around and pushing him up to the table. Whumpee gasped and froze as he was pushed in. 

He blinked at the delightful cup steaming in front of him. He knew better then to drink that, but it smelled so good, and he was pretty thirsty. He glanced up at the man sitting across from him, looking at him kindly while he sipped his own cup. 

Whumpee sat down the ice on the table, hovering the cup an inch from his lips. It smelled divine. “Is this peppermint?” Whumpee muttered. “Mmhm! Good smell. Do you like it? I can make you something else. I have green, black, Jasmin, white...” He rattled off.

“No! No this is good. My favorite, actually.” He smirked. Whumper gave him a loving smile in response. Whumpee felt rude to not drink it by now, the man had even offered to make him another flavor, and wasn’t even pressuring him to drink it at all. He took a sip, it was just as good as it smelled, as he practically melted at the warm flavor. 

“I’m going to try the phone again...” Whumpee muttered, as he nodded. He held the phone to his ear, as he heard soft ringing. His heart fluttered with excitement as he felt a glimmer of hope. He reached up to dial the number again, but he could hardly see, they were fuzzy and swaying back and forth. 

“Mmm..” Whumpee whimpered, slowly lowering the phone, as he realized the ringing wasn’t coming from the phone. He slowly turned around to face Whumper, the ringing in his ears getting louder and louder, his head jolting as lightheadedness hit him. 

“You... Did you...?” He breathed, the blurry image of the mans smiling face burning into his mind as his knees buckled. He felt arms wrap around his chest as his knees hit the ground, the embrace around him keeping his chest up as a hand stroked across his face. He blinked his eyes open, as the next thing he knew he was laying on a couch with his head resting on the mans lap, who was slowly stroking his hand through his scalp. He desperately tried to cry out, but nothing came out.

He couldn't move. 

“What a sweet precious little thing...” Whumper smiled, playing with his hair. Whumpee felt like he was listening to the words underwater, as his voice haunting and distorted to his ears.

“Don’t worry son, I’m going to take such good care of you.”

“So long as you behave.”

Next

Tag: @alien-octopus

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ *:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!

#whump #whumper #whumpee #intimate whumper #parental whumper #nice whumper #kidnapped whumpee #kind whumper #possessive whumper #drugged whumpee #whump prompt #whump scenario #Whump stories #whump writing #creepy whumper

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Write about Tongs you coward

Some Tongs content for the many people that requested her!!!! I'm so glad people seem to like Tongs because oh boy do I have plans for a fic.

Four would like to say that the sound of shattering glass at dark o’clock at night is an unusual occurrence. He’d like to say that the sound is unexpected. Suspicious. Odd. He’d like to say that the sound sends him bolting upright in bed. That it sends him stumbling down the stairs to check on his shop.

Four would like to say those things. He really would.

They might have even been true at one point.

Now?

Now the sound of shattering glass disturbing him in the middle of his sleep cycle at bullshit o’clock merely sends him rolling over so he can muffle a groan into his pillow.

One night.

One peaceful night.

Was that really too much to ask for?

The sound of continued, muffled scrabbling from downstairs answers that question with a resounding yes, yes apparently that is too much to ask for What a couple of assholes Hey We happen to like those assholes Speak for yourself!

Four waits for the sound to die down before rolling back over and staring at the ceiling.

All is quiet for a blessed moment.

...Maybe they’re done?

…

…

…

The sound of something long and metallic hitting the floor with a resonant CRACK says No they aren’t God damn it That’s our queue!

Four rolls back over and mashes his face more fully into his pillow and groans a little louder for a second before slowly dragging himself into a sitting position. He blindly fumbles with a candle and matchbox  on the nightstand– usually used for late night reading but which have gained this new almost nightly use– eventually managing to get the thing lit.

It's not a particularly strong candle. Not nearly as efficient at lighting up a room as their lantern but it does its job well enough, creating a five foot bubble of light around Four so he can see the stairs.

Based on the way the footsteps and clattering and muffled cursing comes to an abrupt halt, it also does its job in telling the other tenants of the house that they’ve been caught. Four takes the last couple of stairs at a stomp, just to drive home just how not happy he is about having to do this again.

Once at the bottom of the steps, the smithy takes a quick survey of the storefront. Nothing broken or out of place. Not that he had really expected otherwise. The last time these two got into one of their “late night disagreements” as Red called them in either the shop or the forge, Four had split, giving them not just a piece of his mind, but every piece of his mind. They weren't done lecturing and yelling and guilt tripping and sneering until the sun had peeked over the horizon. No doubt the deviants wanted to avoid a repeat performance.

Which just leaves the kitchen.

Four shoves open the door with probably more force than is necessary while pushing the candle forward so he can survey the damage.

Though the candle barely lights up the room, it shows Four exactly what he needs to see: the bright gleam of several pieces of silverware on the floor, glinting amongst the shards and dirt of a now destroyed potted plant.

It also shows him the culprits: two pairs of eyes, one at the height of the counter top, wide and round and flickering between green and orange in the candle light, and another pair floating up by the ceiling, glowing a deep crimson.

“She started it,” says the crimson eyes.

“I didn't ask,” Four replies blandly, setting the candle on the floor beside the mess. He grimaces at the sight. The casualty was his mini cactus. One from the Desert of Doubt that Zelda had given to him, stating that even he couldn't kill it.

How long did this one last Three weeks New record It might not be dead One of its ‘arms’ are off But the roots look to be in alright shape We’ll repot it tomorrow With what pot Well–

“She broke that too,” Sounds above Four’s head.

A hiss crackles from the counter top.

“Hey, no!” spits back the first voice, “That doesn't matter! You touched it last which means you broke it!”

A responding hiss followed by a grumbling meow.

There is a scandalized gasp from overhead followed by a spat out, “Why don't you come over here and say that to my face, you overgrown throw pillow!”

“Shadow,” Four cuts in, voice as tired and exasperated as he can make it,“You’re arguing with a cat.”

Four doesn’t need the candle to know that a scowl accompanies Shadow’s annoyed tisk.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Shadow grumbles, finally lowering himself from the air and stepping into Four’s bubble of light so the hero can see his glower. “You talk to her all the time. How you managed to find such a smartass of a cat is beyond me. I swear, she says the worst shit when you can't understand her.”

There is a soft thump from behind him and then a large, warm body presses itself into Four’s side, purring already.

“Kissass,” Shadow mutters, crossing his arms.

Tongs merely cuddles closer, sweeping herself across Four’s side until she can push her head beneath Four’s chin, trilling happily.

Four rolls his eyes at the both of them, gives Tongs a quick scratch behind her ears, and straightens up, taking his candle with him.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s downright vulgar,” Four says, not even trying to sound sympathetic as he walks over to the fireplace to grab the broom, Tongs threading between his legs with every step. “Just like I’m sure she’s the one who suggested… hmm, what was it again?”

Four takes hold of the broom and turns back to face Shadow. He folds one hand over the top of the wooden handle and rests his chin there, letting a faux thoughtful expression cross over his face.

Below him, Tongs sits, her posture tall and perfect, her tail curled around her paws smugly.

Shadow sticks his tongue out at her.

Four clears his throat and Shadow's attention snaps back toward him. This time, Four simply raises an eyebrow which sends Shadow’s eyes all around the room, like he's looking for any other words than the ones Four is thinking of.

Eventually, he admits defeat, throwing his head back petulantly with an exaggerated sigh.

“...Night forging…” the shade mutters.

“Night forging!” Four repeats brightly, sarcastically, striding past his shadow back towards the mess. “That's what it was.”

“She did actually suggest that though!” Shadow insists, exasperated. “She thought if we did some of your work in the night, you would have more free time during the day. It’s not my fault I didn't know how to run your forge!”

Four pulls up short at that, turning to glance at Tongs, who had leap back up onto the counter to supervise their cleaning effort.

“Did you actually suggest night forging?”

Green-orange flickering eyes blink at him slowly as she tilts her head with a purr, the picture of innocence.

Four sighs with a crooked smile, holding out the broom for Shadow to take, which he other does after only a moment's hesitation.

Tongs is much too big to be picked up anymore. Has been for most of the time she's been with him. But if there's one thing his adventures and occupation are good for, it's maintaining strength.

Though she would stand only a head shorter than him if she were to be on her hind legs, Four hefts the massive cat into his arms. And boy, is she an armful. He can barely contain her length and mountain of long, grey fur in his arms, but even with the second it takes to adjust his hold on her, Tongs simply relaxes into his hold belly up, staring at him.

“You’re supposed to be making sure he doesnt get into trouble,” Four tells her with fake solemnity, ignoring the Hey, I resent that! that sounds from behind them.

Tongs stares at him for a moment, as though considering his light scolding.

And then reaches up and gives Four’s nose a lightning quick bop.

Four laughs.

“You're a brat,” he tells her, turning and beginning to walk back out of the kitchen .

Tongs responds by shifting her shoulders slightly, snuggling more firmly into him even as she smacks him in the mouth with her feathery tail.

“Uh, hello?!”

Four pauses in shouldering open the door and turns to see Shadow, broom in hand, other hand on hip, eyebrows high,  and eyes wide.

“Aren’t you going to make her help clean up?”

Four glances down at Tongs in his arms.

She stares back up at him.

Against his side, he can feel her tail flicking mischievously. He sends her an answering smile.

“She's a cat, Shadow. I’m not sure how much help you expect her to be without opposable thumbs,” Four reminds with a shrug and a grin that only gets smugger as Shadow’s face goes from expectant to disbelieving. “I’m sure you’ve got this. See you in the morning.”

The door swings shut behind Four, muffling any response Shadow may have thrown at his back, leaving the boy and his cat to head upwards, laughing as they head back to bed.

#lu four #lu shadow link #lu Shadow #tongs the benevolent #finally some tongs #after this next chapter of AT I think ill start working on the official Tongs fic #but for now here's a quick preview of her personality #summary: she loves four and is a little shit to everyone else #train writes

[hermannsthumb]

Maria. *Grabs your face* MARIA. I would LOVE to see 15 bobbing for apples from the autumn fic meme written by you. Nothing would delight me more!

Anonymous asked: Halloween prompt #15 please!!... "Bobbing for apples but we meet accidentally underwater lady and the tramp style." OR "I thought we'd have fun bobbing for apples but you actually hate it and are really mad now"

15. Bobbing For Apples

from autumn fic prompts here

KATE ❤️__ ❤️for you id write anything... and anon the lady and the tramp scenario is so fucking funny/good

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

It’s a really good thing that Hermann has Newt, because if Newt’s being honest, he has no damn clue what the poor dude would do without him. Work himself to death, probably. Or spend every Saturday night alone in his bunk. So depressing. Newt considers it his big charitable act of—well, of all time—to force Hermann into social functions, whether it's fun nights out at the bar (with Newt!), or down the hall a few feet for awesome movie marathons in Newt’s quarters (with Newt!), or something like tonight, which is a super awesome and fun Halloween party that, like, everyone on the base was invited to (including Newt!).

Hermann was all set to spend another night alone (probably changing the batteries in all his calculators or rearranging the hangers in his closet) when Newt dragged him out, more or less by the collar of his argyle sweater, with multiple threats to make his life a living hell the following week in the lab if he didn't comply immediately. "Seriously, dude," Newt had said, ominously, while Hermann looked at him like a furious cat ready to take a swipe, "you're gonna put in those vampire fangs and get drunk with me, or you're gonna regret it. I mean it." Newt was not opposed to blasting the shittiest depths of his Spotify account over his bluetooth speakers or using Hermann's favorite coffee mug to hold his dissection tools. Luckily for both of them, Hermann decided the risk wasn't worth it.

Newt knows Hermann is bound to recognize how selfless Newt is being and thank him for it eventually. Probably. Maybe a few years from now. For now, Newt is enjoying the warm and fuzzy feeling of having done a good deed, and also of drinking a considerable amount of spiked punch.

Hermann is not enjoying either.

"I did, in fact, have plans for tonight," he tells Newt, sipping his ginger ale and observing Newt with a fierce scowl. He flat-out refused the booze Newt tried to push on him. It's fine, whatever—it's enough for Newt, right now anyway, that he actually came. They'll work up to bigger stuff like that later.

"Like what?" Newt says. "Doing a crossword puzzle and watching the second half of that boring-ass documentary you put on last weekend?"

Newt considers it an affront to the very concept of movie nights that Hermann used his pick on a documentary, and one about the jaeger program that didn't even bother interviewing him, no less. Newt loves a good documentary, don't get him wrong, but movie nights are for escapist shit. You don't see him switching on Godzilla. Plus, having to watch stock footage of Dr. Gottlieb Sr. blabbing his mouth about how smart he was while you were debating making a move on his son (who was currently in you bed, looking super cute in your sweatpants, because he'd forgotten to pack pj's) was kind of a mood-killer. "It wasn't boring," Hermann sniffs, which tells Newt that his guess was dead-on. "It was...interesting. And anyway, just because they aren't your idea of plans..."

"Okay, whatever," Newt says. "Let's just have fun. That's the point of a party."

He throws an arm around Hermann's shoulder and drags him closer, until their heads knock together painfully. He hears Hermann growl low in his throat. Newt doesn't say, soon, we won't have the time to do stupid shit like this anymore, so we should enjoy it while we can, even though he wants to. It's better to not make fun stuff depressing. Plus, Hermann might decide to take that as an invitation to bail and put on his documentary. Instead he reaches up across Hermann and flicks his chin. Hermann's whole body stiffens. "I can't believe I got you into this super awesome party and you're not even pretending to be thankful," Newt says.

With no great deal of difficulty, Hermann pushes Newt off of him. Newt lands heavily back in his chair, making the whole thing wobble, and he laughs as he just manages to catch himself from falling off the other side. "You got me in?" Hermann says. "Newton, I was invited three weeks ago."

Newt stops laughing. "You were?"

"Yes," Hermann says. The corner of his lip twitches up, with a smugness so powerful Newt can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Bastard. "I took it upon myself to ask if you might be permitted to come, too." He adds, sarcastically, "Out of the kindness of my heart. I know how terribly put out you get when you aren't included in these sorts of things."

Newt considers this new information, and then discards it, because it really doesn't fit the image of himself he's been cultivating as the cool, hip friend to Hermann's uncool, unhip nerd. Like, come on, between the two of them, Newt is obviously the one you'd want at your party. Hermann's gotta be kidding. Probably. Maybe. "It's a lame party anyway," Newt mumbles.

He tries to put his arm around Hermann's shoulder again, remembers that Hermann really didn't like that the first time, and then drops it back down at his side instead. "Totally lame," he continues. Newt recalls the Halloween parties of his youth with a warm, fond glow: elaborate costumes, tacky decorations, passing around bowls of peeled grapes in the dark, carving jack-o-lanterns while his dad hovered protectively over him to make sure he didn't take a finger off with the knife. This is none of that. Barely anyone even dressed up! The lack of Halloween spirit is tragic. "There aren't even any party games."

"Yes there are," Hermann says, mildly.

He points across the room at a large metal tub that Newt somehow missed before. It looks like it's filled with water, and...

"Dude," Newt says.

He doesn't wait to ask before he's hopping to his feet and dragging Hermann along after him by his blazer cuff. Hermann swats at his heels a few times with his cane, but eventually—like he does with most of Newt's ideas—gives in. "I'm a fuckin' champ at bobbing for apples," Newt boasts. "I used to—oops, excuse me," (he runs into two guys who are, like, twice his height, upsetting their drinks, and he hears Hermann groan as something purple spills on his sweater), "I used to always win it at the fall fest when my dad would take me." And then when he went back as an adult by himself, but it was less impressive a win when you were up against a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"You do have an exceptionally large mouth," Hermann says, rubbing at his stained shoulder. "I suppose that helps." As Newt bends to investigate the iron tub, he says, "Oh, Newton, don't, it's been out all night. Who knows what sorts of germs are in there?"

Newt gets to his knees and rolls up the sleeves of his PPDC-issued labcoat. He's a mad scientist to Hermann's vampire (vampire librarian?) tonight. Yeah, it's kind of a lazy costume, but it was free—he already had everything he needed in the lab. "I can get it in five seconds, max," he declares. His record is one second, but he's the first to admit he's a little rusty, and he'd rather impress Hermann by beating his estimate. "Will you hold my headlamp?"

Grumbling, Hermann takes it. Newt sets his glasses on the ground. "You're going to get yourself bloody soaking," Hermann says, and then he complains about something else, too, but Newt is screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head into the tub, which makes it difficult to hear him. One second—two seconds—two and a half—Newt emerges victorious from the tub, teeth clenched down firmly on an apple, and accidentally splatters a large amount of water on Hermann's shoes. He pulls the apple out of his mouth with a grin and waves it at Hermann. "See. I'm a fucking pro."

He tucks his glasses back on his face to discover that Hermann is staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. Newt can't decide if it's the blacklight bulbs overhead that are washing him out and making him look so flushed, or something else entirely. Then, in a second, he's grumpy and scowling and tsking over his wet shoes. "A pro," he echoes. "Hardly. It can't be that complicated."

Newt gestures grandly at the tub and takes a bite out of his apple. Hermann can always be relied upon to never turn down a challenge, especially when it means making Newt look—potentially—stupid. Newt uses it to his advantage often. Whatever it takes to help the guy have a good time. "It's all yours, dude."

Hermann grumbles something again about Newt being too arrogant for his own good, and something else about showing Newt how to do it without making a mess of everything, then gets down to his knees with a quiet hiss of discomfort. He shoves his cane, and Newt's headlamp, at Newt, though bewilderingly leaves his blazer on. "I'll be just a moment," he says, and dunks his head into the tub.

He splashes back up no more than five seconds later. Apple-less. "Bugger," he coughs, and then coughs some more. The entire front of his sweater is soaked. "I didn't—I didn't start out right. Let me—"

Newt watches Hermann try to drown himself a few more times in mild interest before he finally intercedes. "Need a hand?" he says, getting to his knees next to Hermann.

"No," Hermann splutters.

Newt takes his glasses off again. "Yeah, you do. Okay, now watch me—"

He emerges with another apple in seconds.

Hermann grits his teeth. "Newton—"

"One more?" Newt says, his grin widening.

Back under. Another apple. He winks at Hermann when he goes in for a fourth time, and this time, he feels the water of the tank being upset as Hermann (refusing to be outdone once again) splashes in alongside him. God, Newt loves riling Hermann up like this—he gets so funny, and kinda cute, when he's mad about something. Red in the face, and scowling, and sometimes (when he's real mad) speaking in a dangerously low and rough sort of voice with his r's rolling that makes Newt shiver, just a little. Like, Newton, you worthless, pathetic little man, cease this immediately, or else I'll... He actually said that to Newt once. It made Newt feel a little warm under his collar. Hermann's probably going to say something similar to him this time, and Newt can't wait.

Ten seconds in. Newt has been cutting Hermann a little slack at first, just to see if he can catch up, but finally decides to just go for the apple that's been bobbing steadily against his mouth this whole time. (He loves beating Hermann at stuff.)

And, well, apparently Hermann goes for it too.

They both miss the apple. Newt's mouth is up against Hermann's for another five seconds before he realizes what's happening (that that is definitely not an apple, that that is definitely a mouth, that that mouth is wide and weird another to belong to only one person Newt knows, that that mouth is parting in surprise, oh my God) and then he pulls away so quickly that he breathes in what feels like half the tub of water. He falls back on his ass, coughing furiously, and it's not until he shoves his glasses back on with a shaking hand that he realizes that Hermann has done the same. "I," Hermann says. His eyes are wide. "I'm sor—"

"It's fine," Newt squeaks.

"It was—"

"I know!"

Newt and Hermann's mouths were touching for five whole seconds. Underwater, while apples bobbed against their foreheads, but their mouths still touched. Oh my God. In elementary school, Newt thinks dizzily, that would be enough to catch cooties. This was so not how he wanted his awesome eventual seduction of Hermann to go down. For one thing, it wasn't even a seduction.

"I'm gonna get a towel," Newt says.

Hermann nods. He looks strangely adorable with water droplets on his nose and his hair plastered to his head like that. Newt has to get out of here before he does something stupid, like take Hermann's pointy cheeks between his hands and put their mouths together on purpose. He doesn't think Hermann would respond to that very well right now.

"I'll get you one too," Newt says, and it takes a lot of effort to force himself to his feet.

Hermann nods again.

"Okay," Newt says, and stumbles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he just catches Hermann raising a hand to his mouth.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #hermann's pov in that one bit was just 'mouth............'

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 8

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  “You have become the only one in the universe who can claim to uniquely know him.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,002

Warnings: fluffy fluff, some plot, swearing, reunions, soft!Din, Kuiil thinks Cupid is a fool, Kuiil’s backstory from canon, surprisingly little angst (it shocked me too)

Author Note: I want to apologize to those on the tag list not getting notified. I have no idea why Tumblr isn’t cooperating and I feel horrible about it. I love each and every one of you who spares time to read this segment/series and I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season.

Links to Part 1 and Part 7 and Part 9

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

The next morning you find Kuiil outside welding together two pieces of metal at his workbench. IG-11 tends to the small herd of blurrg the Ugnaught keeps in a large pen, feeding the two-legged creatures their breakfast. Although you were initially wary, the former assassin droid has been nothing but kind to you, if not a little obsessive about checking the bandage on your head every few hours.

“IG was explicitly warned by Death what would happen if your health declined in his absence,” Kuiil had informed you the previous evening when your attempt to stop the droid’s incessant fretting failed.

“He’s such a worrywart,” you muttered as IG-11 scanned your temperature, heart skipping a beat as it always does when you think about Din’s protective nature. There’s something unbelievably attractive about him making threats when it came to your wellbeing.

“A worrywart who left his gunship in my yard.” Kuiil aimed a sharp look towards the entrance of his home, as if he could see the Razor Crest from this distance.

You snorted a laugh at him calling Arvala-7’s desert landscape a yard of all designations, only for the rest of his sentence to register a beat later, making your eyebrows rise to your hairline. “Wait, what? He seriously left the Crest here? Why would he do that?”

“The quicker his trip to Nevarro, the quicker he returns to your side,” was the response, accompanied with a shrewd look implying you were a fool for asking such a question.

Your Ugnaught host reminds you of a grandfather figure; a bit prickly and blunt at times, but ultimately kindhearted and selfless at his core, wanting only what’s best for those in his care. Between his insistence you keep resting in his bed and IG-11’s nurse programming, you no longer wonder why Din chose to leave you with them, thoroughly convinced you’re receiving better around-the-clock care than most people experience in medcenters.

Kuiil turns when you approach him, pushing his goggles back to the top of his cap as he clicks off the welding torch, eyes giving you a cursory once-over. You feel better than you had yesterday, both headache and dizziness gone, and he must sense that since his head dips in a firm nod, satisfied with what he sees.

“Good morning,” you greet, smiling.

“Morning,” he replies. His expression turns repentant, eyebrows lowering. “My apologies for waking you, but I could not let these repairs remain unfinished.”

“It’s okay.” You tilt your head up towards the sky, enjoying the warmth of the early sunshine after spending the entire previous day cooped inside his home. “I’m supposed to report back to headquarters later today, so I needed to be up anyways.”

Hearing the words out loud grounds the upcoming meeting in reality. It’s really happening. Hours from now, you're going to have to tell your bosses everything, now including your new title as Din’s soulmate. Maker, you can just imagine Hess staring you down with those beady, rat-like eyes of his, asking question after question about you and Din.

And if Hess was serious before on the comlink—and you highly doubt the bastard’s ever told a joke in his life—then there is also the very real prospect of Moff Gideon being there to take part in your interrogation.

“Are you alright?” Kuiil asks, noticing how pale you’ve become. Without waiting for an answer, he ushers you over to a nearby stool. You sit, mouth opening to reassure him you’re fine, only to be startled by the knowing glint in his eyes. “I recognize your anxious face from my years as an indentured servant. You fear punishment from your superiors.”

Your eyes widen, stomach suddenly feeling hollow. “You were a servant?”

“From my birth until my hundredth year, yes.” The nauseous feeling intensifies. You knew Ugnaughts typically lived up to two-hundred years, meaning Kuiil had lived half of his lifetime in servitude. “Earning my freedom did not occur without harsh discipline.”

You draw in a shaky breath at that. It feels wrong, being worried about meeting with your bosses when there are others, such as Kuiil, who have endured far worse horrors.

“Those with power think it comes from weapons and control over others through means of fear and violence,” he continues, returning the welding torch to its proper placement in his toolbox. “True power comes from the strength of one’s hope. It allows you to believe in a better future for yourself and so long as you cling to it, no enemy can break your spirit.”

His rumbling baritone washes over you, calming the worst of your worries. You press your thumb against your soulmate marking, a nervous habit that has developed since you first saw it yesterday. You’ve become addicted to the warmth the mark emanates as it reassures you you’re not hallucinating its appearance.

“I just keep thinking about what their reactions are going to be when I tell them about me and him being together,” you confess, feeling shy as you duck your chin to avoid eye contact.

“Are you embarrassed of Death being your soulmate?”

Your head snaps back up, shocked by his bluntness. “What? No. Din means everything to me.”

The words seem too loud against the quiet atmosphere of the planet. They reverberate off seemingly every surface—the desert rocks, the Razor Crest’s steel paneling and the metal roof on Kuiil’s home—echoing for miles in every direction. Despite knowing that isn’t truly possible, you are unable to stop yourself from wincing.

“You gave Death a name?” Kuiil’s bafflement is visible in the way his head tilts, looking at you in a way that is reminiscent of Omera’s puzzled expression back on Sorgan.

"I didn’t.” You shake your head, for some reason feeling the need to clarify, “He named himself. It’s just something for me to call him when we’re around mortals.”

“I have known Death many decades now,” he begins, sounding no less confused despite your explanation. “He’s quite...particular about the mortal traditions he chooses to adopt, such as appearing as a human male and piloting a gunship.”

“Yeah, I know how picky he can be,” you say slowly, not understanding what his point is.

“Not once has he ever felt compelled to use a mortal name because, in his opinion, names establish ties."

“What does that mean?”

“Without a name, he is but another stranger amongst trillions of beings, unrecognized and unmissed,” Kuiil explains, and you find yourself leaning forward, elbows on your knees. “By giving you a name to call him by, he has tied himself to you in a way he has not permitted anyone else. You have become the only one in the universe who can claim you uniquely know him.”

“Huh.” You let out a long exhale, suddenly aware of your heartbeat pounding deafeningly in your eardrums as it begins to sink in just how monumental the gift of Din’s name truly is. “Well how bout that.”

And the shrewd look from last night makes a reappearance, conveying once again how foolish he thinks you are.

“I have spoken.”

~~

People tend to forget a Cupid’s bow is first and foremost a weapon of defense. Comprised of wood from a Brylark tree, sinew from orbaks, and a thin layer of a mudhorn’s horn, it can be compared to Din’s armor in that it is virtually indestructible. A Cupid carries two types of arrows: one made from kyber crystal meant to lighten one’s emotions or, on rare occasions, induce lust, and the other one made from a kyber crystal coated in ichor, meant to inflict harm against enemies. Once a target is hit, the effects are instantaneous and the arrow vanishes in a burst of sparkling light, regenerating in your quiver seconds later.

You underwent rigorous training to learn how to become a master of archery. Your bow is bound to your Cupid abilities, capable of being summoned to your aid and dismissed with a mere thought. You were taught how to control your breathing, learning that the expanding and contracting of your chest cavity during a shot can ruin your aim. Missing a target is one of the worst mistakes a Cupid can commit, meaning you must make every single shot count.

All that to say, Cupids are fierce archers as much as they are dedicated matchmakers.

They are also dangerous when startled unexpectedly.

You’re in the middle of tidying up Kuiil’s tiny kitchen space, a task you had insisted upon after he’d served you a delicious lunch, humming to yourself quietly as you scrub at the dishes when hands wrap around your waist, pulling you backwards towards someone’s chest.

You react completely on instinct, teleporting out of their hold and reappearing on the other side of the room, bow ready with an ichor arrow aimed directly at the assailant. It is only when the meager light of the nearby lantern reflects off their beskar helmet do you realize who you’re facing.

Immediately you lower and dismiss your weapon before pressing a hand over your chest where your heart is fluttering like a trapped bird. “I’m so sorry, Din,” you tell him, limbs trembling as it sinks in just how close you were to shooting him. “Maker, you scared me and—and I thought I—well, I don’t know what I was thinking, just that I had to—”

In between blinks he appears in front of you, yanking his helmet off with such ferocity your words catch in your throat. You have only the slightest of seconds to glimpse the arousal darkening his brown eyes before he slips a hand behind your neck and crashes your lips together.

He kisses you as if you’re gravity and he’ll float away if he dares to spare a moment to breathe, sending a current of warmth surging through your body. You thought the mere touch of his hand had been life-altering, but it is a mere candle compared to the wildfire his lips spark. Your eyes fall shut as you kiss back with an equal amount of fervency, bringing him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck, grinning at the groan the action spurs from deep within his chest.

There is the heavy thud of his helmet striking the ground before he’s wrapping his hand around your waist, slotting a thigh between your legs to ensure every inch of your bodies are touching. Your cheeks rub against the scratchiness of his facial scruff, an invigorating burn you think you could easily become addicted to.

An embarrassingly high-pitched whine escapes your lips when he pulls away a minute later. He’s never looked more attractive, mouth swollen and hair disarrayed from your roaming fingers. His hands cup your face, and it occurs to you as he swipes his thumbs over your cheekbones he isn’t wearing his gloves.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, sounding slightly hoarser than usual and out of breath. His gaze roams your face, like he’s trying to re-familiarize himself with your features after the time spent apart. “Especially with your bow. When you pointed that arrow at me, there was this...fierceness in your eyes I’ve never seen before. Fuck, angel, you looked so gorgeous.”

“Seriously?” you say, raising an incredulous eyebrow, because of-kriffing-course he’d be the one being in the whole universe who is turned on by a weapon being pointed at him.

“Seriously.” He leans in, forehead pressing against yours, noses brushing. It’s hard to focus when he’s this close, like you’ve again entered that separate realm where it’s just you and him.

“Din, look,” you whisper, fighting the magnetic pull insisting you kiss him again long enough to show him your marked hand. “It’s real. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

The smile that stretches across his face when he sees it is nothing short of breathtaking.

“Angel,” he says, tilting your head so the words are spoken right against your lips. “I’ve wanted to hear you say those words ever since I gave you my name.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​, @eleinemk​, @captain-jebi​, @aerynwrites​, @promiscuoussatan​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @coaaster​, @lin-djarin​, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

#death and an angel #my fic #Din Djarin #din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #soulmate au #my writing

[in-my-feels-probably]

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Chapter Six

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more. don’t forget to read the prologue, it’s important to the story!

INEFFABLE – Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of. 

Chapter Six

It was nightfall by now, and Elham, Kaz and Inej were following the Conductor to his supposed way across the Fold. Jesper was nowhere to be found, and Elham could only imagine what kind of trouble he had gotten to by this point in the night. The moonlight casted over them as they walked, the Conductor leading.

“We're almost there. Just a little further.”

Kaz fell back a bit, causing Elham and Inej to slow, matching his stride. He kept his voice hushed. “Where the hell is Jesper?”

“I should’ve gone with him. Have I ever been wrong? No. Do you ever listen to me? No. And here we are.”

Elham knew she was bold for speaking to Kaz like that, they might have been close, but he was still technically her boss, and more than that, she needed him focused on this job. Making him angry was never a good idea, but she just couldn’t help herself. It was too fun teasing him. She was the only one who could get away with it.

Kaz pretended like he couldn’t hear her, rolling his eyes, walking a little faster. He knew she was right, but he would never admit it. The Conductor approached a sign, barely lit up by his torch. He continued walking past it, but Inej stopped, putting her arm out in front of Elham.

“Landmines.”

Elham stopped, huffing. There was no point in being surprised, she knew this job was going to be the hardest one she ever went on. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t have a slight temper tantrum in Kaz’s direction though, it was just her luck that this would go bad from the beginning.

She almost risked following the Conductor, deciding to not care about the imminent death in the field, when Kaz put his cane out to stop her, giving her a glare. “We’ll wait. Follow the path that you carve.”

“Oh, that sign, it was my idea to keep people away. Can’t be too careful. We’re fine. Come.”

Elham glanced at them, sighing. Might as well. She took off, following the footsteps the Conductor had set, Inej hot on her trail. Kaz stood behind, looking for another way, before realizing there wasn’t one. He sighed, trying to corral the goat closer to him, before slowly following them.

The Fold was a wall, a giant black mass, with eerie groans and high pitched screeches coming from the inside. It was bigger than anything Elham could have imagined, and the pit in her stomach only grew. If nightfall was dark, the only light coming from the moon, she couldn’t imagine how dark and empty the inside of the Fold must be, a void.

Inej was warily glancing around. “It’s one thing hearing about it, but this is--”

“Nothing, compared to what lies within.”

Elham scoffed. “Thank you, Arken, very inspiring.”

The Crows watched Arken slowly crank a handle, watching a dingy train emerge from the edge of the Fold. “There. So, goat, jurda, thank you. Now we’re just waiting on…”

Gunshots emerged on the other side of the field, and Elham turned to see Jesper sprinting in their direction, a crowd of men right on his heels. “Wait for me!”

“They can’t see the train!” The Conductor took the torch from Inej, putting it out in the sand.

Kaz was growing angrier by the second. “Jesper! Get here now!”

“Put out the lantern.”

Elham pulled the pistol off her hip, advancing forward just enough to be able to aim at the men after Jesper. She only had two bullets, and then her gun would be useless. Without her sword, all she would have left is the knife strapped to her thigh. Still, Jesper had to get there, preferably not full of bullet holes.

She began picking off the two closest to him, one bullet missing, hitting the sign next to him, the other lodging itself into another man's thigh. He crumpled to the floor with a cry. “Damn it, Jesper! Hurry the fuck up, I’m out of bullets!”

She dropped the gun, pulling out the knife, ready to use it if she had to. Jesper had stopped now, reading the landmines sign. He picked his pace back up when another gunshot flew over his head. “Oh, wait for me! Don’t you go without me! Wait!”

Elham turned, pulling herself up onto the train, grabbing Jesper’s arm and pulling him in when he got close enough, falling back into one of the seats. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

The men were still advancing, and Inej began pulling the door shut, checking to make sure everything was secure. Elham had stood now, grabbing the sack off Jesper’s shoulder handing it to Arken.

“Please tell me this is 20 pounds of alabaster coal.”

Jesper turned to them. “Slight snag in the plan. Turns out that the kid who was helping me buy the coal, didn’t exactly know how to, uh, buy coal.”

Kaz nodded, unamused. “We know you gambled it away.”

“I lost a little bit of the money...ok I lost all of the money, but I managed to steal twenty pounds of alabaster coal.”

The Conductor looked over the bag. “No, no, no, there’s sixteen pounds!”

Jesper corrected himself, smoothing down his jacket. “Sixteen pounds, of alabaster coal.”

Kaz looked like he was going to have a heart attack, and Elham was fighting herself to not say I told you so. “Can we do it on sixteen?”

“Never been done before?”

Gunshots hit the side of the train, and Arken moved Jesper, placing him into a seat. “Sit here. Never shift your weight.”

Inej slowly sank into a chair, and Kaz violently pulled off his jacket, before motioning to Elham to sit down. She took a seat next to him, and watched Arken pull up his sleeve, seeing cuts along his wrist, like tally marks. Saints, he had crossed that many times?

Inej, knife drawn, said a quick prayer. Elham took a deep breath, getting ready to think of some funny last words, when an explosion went off, followed by the sound of men screaming.

Kaz’s face grew cold. “I thought you said they weren’t real.”

“I said nothing of the sort. I just said I put the sign up myself.” The Conductor hit a few levers, and the train began moving. Kaz glared, leaning back in his seat, and Elham straightened up next to him, exasperatedly laughing. Could this be going any worse?

---

It had been a few minutes, and the train was barreling down, the Conductor checking his watch. The sound of metal clanging got everyone’s attention, and Jesper uneasily sat up. “What was that?”

“I’ve erected a system of timers along the line. Bits of metal hung on poles to keep me apprised of our pace.”

This piqued Kaz’s interest. “How did you know where to put the poles?”

“Physics and engineering account for most of my success. The rest is what we might call divine intervention, what others might call luck.”

Elham scoffed at that. “If there was any divine intervention, I’d be at the bottom of the harbour right now, Saint’s know I deserve it. But here I am, imminent death looming over me. Sounds like bad luck to me, eh Arken?”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I do know that the Fold is thick with volcra, and the tracks are not complete. Coal, please?”

Jesper perked up at that, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, did you say the tracks weren't complete?”

“I said they aren’t complete. And stop moving.”

Elham turned to Kaz, for the first time in the night, feeling actual fear. If she was going to die back there, a gunshot wound, or landmine, then so be it. It would be kinder than anything Heleen had planned for her. But to be ripped apart by volcra, part of a mass grave in the Fold?

Kaz gave her a look, one that said to calm down, don’t lose it. Arken ignored it, telling him to put in more coal. They were running late.

Jesper fidgeted in his seat, panicking, “I'm sorry, can we get back to the bigger issue? We’re on tracks that don’t connect to other tracks?”

“Yes, there’s a gap, but--”

Kaz had lost all patience. “You said you could get us through.”

Jesper was still panicking, now exasperated. “How much of a gap?”

Arken fidgeted with the levers, pushing buttons, and the car lurched forward. “I built slats on the car. They roll into place under the wheels. The turbine generates enough wind to push us all the way to the eastern track. As long as we don’t shift our weight. Now, the noise may attract volcra, but it’s the only way across. There’s a nest nearby, but we’ll be fine. If they haven’t attacked us in--”

A volcra screech was heard in the distance.

“Well now we’ve got a problem.”

“Of fucking course. Because why would this go well? Why would anything be easy? Can’t have anything nice, can we?”

Kaz looked worried now, but he was probably the most calm of the group. “Elham, shut up, Jesper’s gonna go into cardiac arrest if you say things like that. Arken, how do you fight them off?”

“I outrun them, open the throttle and toss in all the coal, which works when there’s twenty pounds of it!”

Elham sucked in a breath. “Jesper, I love you, but if we make it out of this alive, I’m most definitely going to kill you. Sit still!”

The car was slammed into, and a horrifying screech was heard. A pool of blood began pouring in through one of the cracks in the ceiling. Arken looked out the window. “Damn it! The stupid thing impaled itself on the spike.”

Kaz spoke up. “We need to get it off, the others are going to stand on it!”

“More coal!”

“We’re down to fumes! We’ll never make it with this extra weight.” He tossed the bag into the flames, but it did little to the pace.

Jesper was sitting in his chair, staring off. “This is how we die?”

Arken didn’t even look up. “Jesper, grab the groat.”

“I’m not throwing out the goat!”

“Grab the damn goat! It’s not bait, it’s for you! I need you to calm down, hug the goat. Shut the hell up.”

Jesper picked up the goat and held it tight to his chest, Inej groaning and placing her head in her hands.

Another clang, signalling the pace, went off, and Arken paled. “We should have hit that twenty seconds ago. My timings are precise to get us outside. Even twenty seconds behind means the train stops inside the Fold, and that...that means we die. There’s more coming!”

More volcra stacked up on top of the train car, screeching, and Arken scurried back to his chair. “You may want to make your peace!”

Elham turned to Kaz, who was positively out of plans. Inej was praying, Jesper was clutching tightly to the goat.

This was it.

Kaz met her eyes, desperately trying to come up with something to say, something that would possibly be good enough for his last moments with his Crows, with his Valkyrie, when Jesper stood up, the goat still under his arm.

He had this sense of calm to him, face now determined. He stepped forward, heading to the front of the car, the Crows watching him. He suddenly pulled his pistols from their holsters, twirling them around in his hands, before firing up at the ceiling. Volcra screeched, blood spattered, Arken was cowering in the corner, but Jesper persisted, rotating pistols, firing away.

Their pace increased as more and more volcra fell away from the train car, and Jesper holstered his pistols.

Inej glanced around, who had been still in her seat the entire ride. “Are they all dead?”

There was a moment of silence, before a claw burst in through the ceiling, and a volcra’s head pushed its way in. Arken screamed, but Jesper just raised his pistol, chambering a round, and launched it into the volcra’s head. It screeched, before falling off the train as well.

The Crows sat in their seats, stunned faces, before another metal clang went off, signalling the timer again. Arken checked his watch, and suddenly, the inside of the train car was lit up.

They had made it out.

They skidded to a stop at the edge of the Fold. They slowly stood up, making their way out of the train car. Elham wiped at her face, hopping out, turning to Jesper. “I’ve reconsidered. I’m not going to kill you. But pull some shit like that again, and I swear I’ll--”

“Got it, got it. Won’t happen again, love.”

She scoffed at that, speeding up to catch up with Kaz, who was leading them into the city. She muttered to herself. “Yeah, Jesper, sure. And I’m the Queen of the Barrel.”

Kaz raised a brow, glancing at her next to him, before continuing on.

---

A/N - hi, here's another chapter. please check out the authors note chapter, i will be deleting it before i post the next chapter, but i wanted a little feedback. (if you're reading this on tumblr, i didn't post the authors note on here, i'm basically just asking for opinions, critiques, likes, dislikes, ideas, i just want to writ something you all would enjoy better.) feel free to contact me anytime, and thank you for the support!

#wattpad #in my feels probably #ineffable #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone #grishaverse #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker

[therealyaspen]

Possessed Legend Go Brr

You know I was gonna just post a snippet bc I stopped writing this like five months ago bUT HERE HAVE A MESSY, UNEDITED BUT COMPLETE THING I GUESS?? Any grammatical errors will probably be looked over tomorrow dfnsav

So. The Lost Woods were still creepy as hell. Good to know. A dense fog still covered the area, and crows still screamed their call-and-respond at random seemingly just to startle anyone not expecting it. The same old eerie lantern-light darted between the trees, the same poes laughed at the group as they got up and dusted themselves off.

Some things would never change, Legend supposed, no matter how often you came back.

"Looks like the Lost Woods," Time observed. "Do we know whose era we're in?"

"Mine," Legend said with a glance at the pedestal in the middle of the clearing, "The Sword looks just like I left it."

Sky sighed sadly. "This place is so... different," he said, then turned to Legend and asked, "Are you going to take it?"

Legend shook his head. "Better to leave it here for now, I think." In truth, he didn't want to hold the blade ever again. Too many memories involved his hand clenched tight around the azure hilt of the Master Sword until his knuckles turned white. Without another word on the matter, he started walking. "We should probably get going before that scaly bastard can put anymore distance between himself and us. Follow me and stick close--Hyrule, no wandering off."

And so began the journey through the woos. As the group of heroes left the Sword behind them, however, it became increasingly apparent that something was wrong with the Lost Woods. The further they went from the clearing, the more obvious the signs were. The plants were wilting and turning a sickly purple grey color, the crows got to be fewer and fewer. Wild was caught trying to grab mushrooms that even Legend hadn't seen before three times. Even the poes seemed to notice that something was amiss and were avoiding the rest of the forest as much as they could.

Hyrule was the first to say anything. "Something's not right. There's magic here, but it's... wrong. Like Dark Link's," he announced, reaching up to touch a grayed leaf and recoiling with a yelp when it crumbled to dust in his hand. It almost looked like it had burned the Traveler.

"Then all we can do is stay on our toes and trust Legend to get us out of here," Twilight replied, and Legend noted the way that his pelt almost looked like the fur on the back of an animal's neck, bristling and on high alert. He nodded.

"New rule--don't touch anything. Wild, for Din's sake, put the mushrooms down!"

Wild gave him a kicked puppy look over his armload of slimy, red-capped fungi. "They look like they might be good for cooking!" he protested.

Legend pinched the bridge of his nose. "They also might be poisonous, you--" the Veteran stopped mid-sentence, and not of his own volition. He felt his arms drop to his sides, his face go slack. What the hell...? What in the actual goddess-damned fuck?! He wanted to shout, to rip whatever was doing this to him a new asshole, but he couldn't.

This was... something else. Something other.

"...Legend? You okay?" Wild asked. "It's fine dude, I'll put them down." Gingerly, he set the mushrooms on the ground, then put his hands up when Legend--or rather, the thing that was controlling Legend--didn't look away or change its expression or do anything. Get the fuck out of me! I swear to Hylia, I'll kick your ass! Legend swore at whatever it was, trying to force even just a little twitch of his finger.

Four looked at him warily. "Is he... do you guys think he can even hear us? Legend?" he asked, tentatively walking over to him. Yes! Yes, I can, and I have no goddess-damned clue what the hell's going on! Hyrule's arm shot out to stop Four. His eyes were wide, never leaving Legend.

"Don't," he said, voice cracking a little. "Something... something's really wrong."

Whatever had taken Legend's body finally decided to speak. Its voice was raspy and quiet and most certainly not his own. It sounded almost like fallen leaves scraping against the bare earth in the fall. "Trespassers... leave..."

Then Legend felt himself be thrown forward in a leap towards Hyrule, sword out and ready to attack. Move! He screamed, but again, his mouth didn't so much as twitch. Four grabbed the other hero and pulled him down just barely in time to avoid getting sliced in half, but the sound of steel cutting through flesh was as clear as Hyrule's scream as the blade struck him. The Traveler had a massive gash in his side. legend's arm moved up to deal a death blow, and he was begging now, Please, don't do this! Don't kill him, don't kill any of them, they're all I have--

Clang!

Legend would have cheered at the sound of his sword striking Wild's shield if he could. Wild pushed outwards with a shout, sending Legend stumbling back. Warriors and Time were on him before whatever had him could even think about getting up, though the thing was apparently much stronger than he was and was struggling violently in an attempt to throw both of them off. "What the hell are you doing?!" Warriors bellowed. The fury in his eyes almost physically burned, and Legend didn't really blame him. He'd probably react much the same.

"He's not himself," Time said. His voice was strained, and Legend could see that behind his neutral expression was a barrage of emotions. He couldn't imagine any of them were particularly pleasant. "Someone grab his sword!"

Twilight was just barely able to pry the weapon from his grip, which seemed to just further aggravate the thing inside him. Time and Warriors both ended up being thrown off. "Damn, that was... has he always been this strong?" Warriors muttered, getting up swiftly and moving to aid Sky in trying to grab Legend again.

It's probably whatever's causing him to act like this," Sky guessed. He blocked a punch aimed directly at his head and Legend silent-howled in pain as his fist connected with solid metal, but his body landed a blow to the Skyloftian's gut and a kick to Twilight's left knee.

He was sent downwards when Wind charged him and grabbed ahold of the back of his legs, then swore internally as his newly-retrieved sword tore through the Sailor's calf. "Fuck! I don't want to hurt him, but this asshole's sure not taking it easy on us!" the kid exclaimed.

Twilight was back on his feet quickly, though Legend noticed that he was favoring his injured knee just a little. He hoped to whoever would listen that this thing didn't see it too. Sky was a little slower to recover, but he got back up before Legend shook Wind off of him.

"Hey!"

Legend's head snapped in the direction of the shout to see Warriors. The Captain looked jarringly unsure and a little surprised, as if he hadn't meant to yell. He shook his head and the surprise disappeared, though he was clearly still uncertain. Legend was barreling into him before he could start speaking, and he hardly had time to get his shield up. "Snap our of it, Legend! This isn't--I know you're still in there!"

The thing controlling Legend kicked at Warriors' ankles, sending him toppling down. Warriors went at Legend's own ankles, hard. Fucking ow, asshole. Legend didn't even have time to think before he was on his stomach, Warriors holding his left wrist firmly against the ground and rendering the sword he held useless. The Captain's knee was in his back, and his full weight was holding Legend down. The whatever-it-was struggled, thrashing to get free, but the others were quick to secure his other limbs.

There was a beat of silence, save for ragged breathing and the sounds of a frantic attempt to get free, before Warriors spoke. His weight shifted a bit. "Sorry, Legend. We'll figure this out, I promise."

Then there was a pain in the back of Legend's neck, and he was released into unfeeling darkness.

~~~

When Legend awoke, the first thing he noticed was the rope tying his hands together. The second was the very familiar bed, and the third...

"Oh, Mister Hero! You're awake!"

Legend groaned and gave Ravio the evil eye when he helped him sit up, but was relieved to find that he could move his body on his own now. "What the hell am I doing here, and where are the others."

Ravio gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "Oh, you wound me! And here I was, worried you wouldn't wake up yourself!"

"Ravio..."

"Fine, fine--but you did give me quite the scare, you know! Being carried in, unconscious and apparently possessed and all--"

"Ravio!"

The merchant put his hands on his hips. "Hold your horses, Mister Hero, I'm gettin' to it! Your family--" Ah. Yeah. He had called them that, hadn't he? "--didn't have time to say much at first. Mister Cape pulled out his sword--somehow, he had the actual Master Sword, what's up with that?!--and did this thing with it Something about purifying a corrupted forest spirit and getting it out of you? I dunno, that kinda went over my head if I'm being honest,... Anyways, the sword burned up his hands pretty bad, so I pointed him and a bunch of the others towards Kakariko so they could find a healer or something. Mister Scarf, Mister Armor, and Freckles headed to the castle to try and get an audience with Zelda for help, in case the whole sword thing didn't work."

Legend frowned, taking a moment to digest all that. So Sky had tried to use the Master Sword to exorcise him? And apparently it had worked? But he'd hurt himself. Now Fable might get involved, and not only would he get the ass-chewing of the century, but she'd be wasting her time she could be spending not worrying about a brother that was okay, really. Legend sighed. "I guess we're gonna have to wait until they get back, then," he said. "Think you can untie me? I'm guessing these were put here in case I woke up and was... not myself." Come to think of it, how had he stayed out that long? Had Hyrule used sleeping potions? That had to be it, there was no ay he would have been out for the entire trek from the Lost Woods to his house otherwise.

A mischievous light glinted in Ravio's eyes. "Hm... I'm not sure, how do I know you're not just that evil, corrupted spirit impersonating Link? Think you can prove you're not?"

"Fucker-- you know damn well I'm not!"

"Mmm, I dunno~"

Legend seethed. "Fine, when you started your 'rental shop' or whatever, the thing that pissed me off the most was that you moved my goddess-damned bed. That good?"

Ravio clapped his hands together, and Sheerow chirped from somewhere across the room. "It really is you, Mister Hero!" he exclaimed cheerfully, going to work at the knot holding Legend's hands together.

He would still be working at it when Time, Warriors, and Hyrule returned with Fable to the sound of Legend screaming at him to just cut the damn thing.

#linked universe #lu #linked universe legend #linked universe time #linked universe sky #linked universe wild #linked universe hyrule #linked universe twilight #linked universe four #linked universe wind #linked universe warriors #possession #legend deserves a break but does he get one now? no #injury cw #violence cw #nothing graphic but it's still there so be warned :) #OH also #ravio #linked universe ravio #there's an lu ravio tag?? sick #angst #angst with a happy ending #because that's like all i write lmao #let wild eat weird mushrooms 2021

[vanillann]

the museum of heartbreak (spencer reid x f.reader)

this is based off the book “the museum of heartbreak” by meg leder

word count: 2.3k

a weirdly shaped bobby pin

Spencer sat at his desk, Penelope stood beside it with a cup of coffee talking about her new partner coming in today.

“I know I’m supposed to be training her, but do you think if I told her she was going to be my best friend in the whole world she'd get scared?”

Pen stirred her coffee while she rambled you Spencer. He gave the women a sincere look. 

The sound of the door opening and closing cut the two off, looking over to see a woman.

She had her arms crossed and her eyes wandered around the large bullpen.

Once they landed on Penelope, she gave a soft smile and walked to the two.

“Hi, are you Ms. Garcia?”

Penelope sat the large pink mug on Reid's desk, turning fully to look at the women.

“Call me Penelope,” the woman went to stick out a hand, but Penelope grabbed both her shoulders and pulled her into a large hug. 

Spencer chuckled at the woman's face, she looked alarmed to say the least.

Once the blonde let go, she turned to Spencer.

“Meet Doctor Spencer Reid, he likes to eat lunch in our office so you will see him a lot.”

Spencer gave a shy wave, the women easily returning it.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

Before the two could exchange words, Penelope grabbed her arm and rushed her into her office.

Spencer watched the two walk away, to the tech office.

“Who was that?”

Derek clapped a simple hand on Reid's shoulder, looking down at the doctor.

“The new tech analysis,” Spencer turned to look up at his friend.

“She looks youngish.”

“Youngish isn’t a word and she graduated a year early from what Garcia said.

Derek nodded, taking a sip from his mug.

“You should go help her figure the place out.”

Spencer looked over at Derek, a crease forming between his eyebrow.

“Penelope is probably going to do it.”

“Her and I are about to pick up lunch for everyone, she promised she’d go with me this time.”

Almost like it was planned, Pen came running around the corner, purse in hand.

“Ready chocolate thunder?”

“Coming baby girl.”

Derek patted Spencer's shoulder, falling the tall woman to the elevator.

Spencer waited until the elevator completely closed, not wanting to give Derek something to tease him about.

He shoved both hands in his pocket, walking through the class door to the “BatCave” as Garcia once called it.

Once he got closed, the sound of metal jiggling and groans were heard from the small room.

Spencer peaked through the small gap in the door, walking (Y/N) sitting on the floor in front of her desk.

She had one eye closed and her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth.

He gently pushed open the door, watching the women play with the lock on one of the cabinets in her desk.

Suddenly the women looked up, giving him a wide eye look.

“I swear I’m not doing something illegal.”

Spence only chuckled, playing with the fabric in his pocket.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

She smiled, pulling her legs up to his chin slightly.

“Penelope gave me a copy of the teams personal files and told me to keep them safe, but she didn’t give me the key to my desk,” she pulled what looked to be a bobby pin from the lock.

The bobby pin was twisted and bent in odd ways, obviously being through something.

Spencer only smiled, pulling the bobby pin from her fingers and squatted beside her.

He easily placed the bobby pin in the lock, turning it twice and pulling the cabinet open.

A loud gasp was heard from beside him, the same wide eyes from earlier were back.

“You’re a genius.”

Spencer smirked as he looked over at the women.

“I know.”

an empty bag of skittles

The sight of the two kids smiling faces had Spencer feeling sick.

The kids had been gone for 27 hours, over the 24 hour span. The team knew they were dead, but nobody dare say it out loud.

“We are missing something, why do we have to be missing something,” Rossi mumbled under his breath.

Suddenly the conference room door swung open, a bewildered (Y/N) stood in the door with a stack of papers in one hand and a bag of skittles in the other

“So I was doing a background search on the extended family with Pen, and I didn’t find much,” she ran over to the large table, a picture of the two missing kids with an older woman.

“I was wandering on an old Facebook page when I found this photo, but the woman wasn’t on any record.”

The woman stood with her arms around both children, squatting to be at their height.

She held a balloon with the number 6 on it, a small birthday hat sat in her head.

“I found her in the system, Kallie Gray, she’s their birth mother sister.”

“You think it’s her?” Hotch asked, a small bit of hope in his voice.

“Yes.”

(Y/N) threw her arms out, a handful of skittles flying from the bag.

Spencer watched a few hit his chest, but paired no mind as he listened to the girl intensely.

This was the first time Spencer really heard her go on about something, since she’d only been at the BAU for a week.

“Here the address.” She handed Hotch a piece of paper, which he read and passed to Rossi.

“Spencer and JJ, saying here for the parents, I don’t think she would hurt the kids.”

Spencer nodded while JJ excused herself, going out to call the parents.

“The rest of us, let’s go.”

The rest stormed out the door, serious looks on all their faces.

Once the door closed, the new tech analysis collapsed into a nearby chair.

She took a handful of skittles, throwing them into her mouth.

She looked up at Spencer, an exhausted look at her face.

“Skittle?”

She took her hand, moving it from her chest to the shape between them.

Spencer took the seat beside her, turning to look at her.

He took one single skittle and threw it in his mouth.

“You did good today,” Spencer walked her looked at the glass wall, watching the busy room below.

“It’s because of the skittles,” she simply shrugged.

“Or because you belong here, because this is what you are good at.”

She only looked over at him and smiled.

“You’re nice, I’ll share my skittles with you anytime.”

a unopened hello kitty bandaid

The team let out large breaths of air as they walked back into the bullpen. Everyone smiled as they looked up, seeing the younger tech analysis sitting on top of Spencer desk.

Spencer smiled, walking over to the girl as she read one of his books.

“Spencer you need better taste in-” she cut herself off as she looked up.

Spencer watched as she reached up and touched his cheek. If it wasn’t for the pain of the small cut, his cheek would probably be on fire.

“A piece of glass got me, it’s nothing.”

The girl said nothing and she got off his desk and grabbed his hand, pulling him through the halls into Pen and her shared office.

She pulled him into the room and gently pushed him into her soft chair.

She pulled out a small box from behind her computer, the sight of pink and hello kitty made Spencer laugh.

“You could get the average bandaid, you know.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling one from the box and opening it.

She pulled herself closer to him, Spencer held his breath. The way her tongue stuck out the side of her lips had him melting in his seat.

She placed the bandage gently on his cheek, a little smile formed once it was on all the way.

She didn’t move, she stayed where she stood watching Spencer. In that moment he was so happy she wasn’t a profiler, because the way he was watching her she would have known about the crush he had been developing.

“Did you know bandaid were invented in 1920 by Earle Dickson.”

Spencer wanted to beat his head on the table, this wasn’t the time for facts about band aids.

She blinked quickly, pulling back and grabbing a few extra bandaids. She grabbed his arm and opened his left hand, placing three hello kitty bandaids in his hand.

“My band aids are better than an average bandaid.”

a blue dog collar

Halloween had come, and to say Spencer was excited was an understate.

The BAU was covered in cobwebs and fake jack-o-lanterns, a small table of finger foods sat on a table.

Penelope and (Y/N) had convinced Hotch to throw an office party if they didn't get a case on Halloween, which made Spencer almost cry with joy when nothing came in.

He stood talking with JJ, who was dressed as a princess, and Emily, who was dressed as catwoman.

He stood with a large pair of khakis and a large green shirt (Y/N) bought just for this costume.

Suddenly Spencer 's eyes were covered, the sweet sound of said voice had a small smile come over his face.

“Woof,” Spencer moved her hands and turned around, seeing her smiling face with two large brown dog ears on top of her head.

She smiled up at him and held up a large blue dog collar.

“I was going to put it on but it hurts, hold onto it for me?”

Spencer only nodded and took the collar from her, shoving it in his pocket.

“Thank ya Shaggy,” she gave a dramatic wink and finger gun as she backed over to the drink table.

“Okay Reid, what’s going on there,” JJ gave her friend and serious look.

Emily put a hand on her hip and gave the same look, a smirk on her face.

“She’s my best friend.”

Reid shrugged, looking down into his cup of punch. The sad smile started forming across his face.

“She’s seeing someone.”

Without another word from the two women, they moved him into one large big group hug.

a broken piece of a starry night mug

Spencer walked into the break room, an empty mug in his hand.

(Y/N) stood with her back to him, and a large smile played across his face.

“Happy one year of working at the BAU.”

He walked behind her, throwing an arm over her shoulder.

She only nodded, not even looking up at Spencer. He felt his heart shatter, his world felt crushed.

“What’s up with you?

“I ended it.”

Spencer didn’t want to admit it, but he felt like the lights in the break room were brighter and the kick in his step felt lighter.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t love him, I just wanted to get over someone else,” she turned to look up at Spencer.

Her elbow swung into the microwave, causing the starry night mug she held in her hand to tumble to the ground.

Spencer jumped into action, getting on his knees to pick up the pieces.

She followed after him, a small little laugh fell from her lips with a soft ‘sorry’.

“Can I come to your place tonight?”

Spencer looked over at her, her soft feature made him forget how to speak. HE simply nodded his head and he took the broken piece of the mug from her hand.

He walked to the trash can, throwing all but one piece away.

Welcome to the Museum of Heartbreak

Spencer taped the small piece of paper with the words on his apartment door, a  nervous smile on his face.

We walked back into his place, the random white Christmas lights hung from his ceiling. In front of each item was a card with the object name and the date of the event.

Suddenly a loud knock ripped through his thoughts, without thinking he jumped behind the objects and yelled a come in.

The door opened, (Y/N) face came around the door. Her eyebrows knitted together as she closed the door, looking up at Spencer than the objects on the floor.

A small laugh fell past her lips and she looked down at the object, her hand coming to cover her mouth.

“Spencer,” she looked back up at him. He held up a single finger, quickly clearing his throat, reciting the speech he prepared.

“I know you are heartbroken right now, I’m sorry about that truly, but I’m not sorry about being in love with you for 323 days.”

A small sigh left her lips, her hand coming to rest over her heart.

“The day you told me about that date, you broke my heart. Today after you told me it was over, you fixed it.”

He stepped over the objects, a small smirk on his face by the amazed look in your eye.

“I learned that life breaks your heart, a lot. I also learned that it sends people to fix it.”

He walked over and grabbed the woman's hand, the same hand he’d want to grab for the rest of his life.

“Everything in this room was a small way you fixed me, because it all leads back to you. It will always lead back to you. Dopamine-”

Spencer was cut off, the soft feeling of lips upon his made his head spin.

He moved the hand that sat in his pocket to move around the back of her head, the other around her shoulder.

Their teeth clashed from the large smile on both their faces, the hot air moved across both their faces.

She slowly pulled away from him, watching him with a goofy smile.

“I like this museum.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Penelope Garcia #bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #hotch #derek morgan #Emily Prentiss #jj #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[liquid-luck-00]

Crossing Worlds

This all started because of this

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne, age 18, son of Bruce Wayne the Batman. Was surprisingly walking aimlessly through the manor. He knew his father was in his study, Tim was in the cave, Jason, Dick, and Alfred were somewhere but that didn't matter to him. It was a rare moment where the manor was quiet, but his mind was anything but.

He found himself in one of the music rooms.

He went over to a blue and silver Stratocaster, what looked like two small earring hoops were pushed through the strap, the blue metal with each having three onyx bats shown against the matte strap. He plugged it in and begin to strum, after a while a melody was in his mind and he followed the song in his head. He was vaguely aware of his family coming in during the song, but he continued, his mind solely focused on the music.

"Wow I didn't know you could play Baby Bird" Grayson complemented after he had finished.

"Tt. I am proficient at many instruments" he responded calmly.

"Okay Demon Spawn is good at guitar" Todd started "Do you know any Jagged Stone songs?"

"Who?" he asked confused, this was apparently the wrong thing to say.

"What!!!" all three of his brothers shouted simultaneously.

It was Todd that spoke up again "We are totally listening to his albums now" Todd pushed and guided Damian to the game room and placed a CD into the player, tossing the album case to him. After a three full albums Damian spoke again "I've never heard any of those but they were good I suppose" again that was the wrong thing to say.

As all three yelled "What" again.

"How hard did Croc hit you yesterday?" Drake asked.

What I had a run in with Ivy. And that was just to help her find Harley.

He must have shown his confusion because his brothers were about to descend on him but then all of them heard a crash. That sent everyone into alert. Within a moment Damian took point his katana in his hands, Drake and Grayson behind him, and Todd brought up the rear a glock in each hand.

They heard a high pitched chirping from the music room, so it was as good a place to start as any. They opened the door to see a...is that a bat. The bat must have noticed them because they were now facing them just floating there.

"Wait why are you floating not flapping your wings?" Damian didn't realize he spoke aloud but he didn't expect it to answer back.

"I don't need to" it answered gruffly.

"It can talk. Why can it talk?" Grayson shrieked behind him.

"First off it has a name and it's Damon" the little bat, Damon, crossed it’s wings "and second I am a Kwami."

"And what is a Kwami?" Drake asked.

"Simply put Kwami are pocket sized gods bound to miraculous or jewelry." Damon explained "I am the Kwami of space, sorry for pulling you with me pup." By now the little god was floating in front of Damian.

That was when he realized he was talking to him. "What do you mean?" he asked and held out his hand and the Kwami hung upside down from his fingers.

"Essentially my miraculous was lost in space and ended up in your world. You unconsciously activated my miraculous which allowed me to come home but you were pulled into it with me." he explained.

"So this isn't Demon Spawn" Todd spoke the question on everyone’s mind.

"No. He is saying this Damian is from an alternate universe" Drake explained "its the multiverse theory."

"Exactly but unless you want to go back there are no consequences"

"There is always an effect with magic though." Grayson added intelligently.

"That is true for magic wielded by mortals" he answered "but I am not. My powers in this form are unlimited and volatile but not without balance. You pup exist in both so it has no consequence."

"Would this affect my memories?" Damian asked the god.

"Yes and no. Major events of an individuals past and character traits tend to stay the same. Smaller and more trivial events may be different" Damon explains. By this time Pennyworth and Father have been caught up and were listening. "More likely there are people added into this world who did not exist in yours."

"That would explain why you never heard of Jagged when we are always blasting his songs" Todd grumbled.

That was when an alarm sounded from Drake's phone.

"Speaking of which Jagged's concert is in two days and our flight to Paris is scheduled to leave in three hours." Drake informs us all.

"Shit" Todd yells as he runs out at the room.

"I'll bring the car around." Pennyworth spoke to no one in particular. Drake and Grayson followed him out. Leaving Damian, Damon, and Bruce in the room.

"Father" Damian didn't get to say any more before he was stopped.

"Yes" he answered.

"What? I'm confused. Father"

"Damon you may stay with Damian" he answered "Alfred explained a bit more about the miraculous and spoke fondly of one Duusu."

"So he was a past bird" Damon hummed "that would explain the trace magic on him." His father left and Damian was about to leave when Damon floated in his face "You might want to put on the earrings pup."

"Alright. Wait earrings does that mean" he couldn't help the shock in his voice.

"You need to get your ears pierced" Damon smirked, "seems so."

How can something so cute look so smug at his displeasure.

He could either do it in Paris or here in Gotham. You know what, why prolong the anticipation. So he went to find Todd. Granted he would never have willingly sought him out. But for this he trusted his brother's judgement. Surprisingly Todd didn't make a big deal of it. A quick shout to Pennyworth and they were out of the manor. Within 15 minutes they were in front of a Tattoo Parlor.

"Tt. I said I wanted a piercing, Todd, not a tattoo."

"I remember Demon spawn. You got the earrings."

Damian nodded and they went in. The whole process took about 20 minutes and was relatively painless. He got a double cartilage piercing on his right ear. He was given instructions for care and cleaning and a warning it would be sore for a while.

All in all, Todd isn't always an asshole and gave him some suggestions. Mainly that since he had wanted the cartilage pierced to only do one ear so he could sleep on the other until it is healed.

Back at the manor his bags were already packed. Whether it was Pennyworth or him from this world he didn't know but was grateful. Damon had taken to sleeping and hiding in his jacket pocket.

The airport and flight was uneventful. But it wasn't until they exited the airport when they noticed something was wrong. Well that wasn't hard when there was a giant baby on a rampage. Two figures one in red and one in black made quick work of the giant. A swarm of pink fixed the damage and were gone. Damian looked towards his father and brothers whose expressions mimicked his own shock.

He felt his phone vibrate, signaling a message. He was going to ignore it when he felt Damon poke him.

The message read :

Something is wrong, there are miraculous active.

Once in the hotel Drake went through the records from Paris while father went through the JL system. Damon had taken his phone and seemed to be writing, when he was done he flew over dropped his phone and shot him a smirk but his eyes were calculated.

"Damon" he called but the Kwami gone with only a salute and phased out of the room, so he opened the phone

If I'm not back in an hour get in uniform with the Big Bat and go to the inner floor of the Eiffel tower. I'm going to find the guardian to get a meeting with the heroes. To transform say or mumble 'Damon, Night Terror, to de-transform say 'Day Break' . Your weapons include dual swords and a grappling hook. Your powers allow you to open small pocket dimensions but in battle you can create shadows of yourself and whoever you want. Shadows are corporeal for about five minutes or until they receive enough damage to use it say, 'Shadow Runner'

Delete this.

Damian sighed, erased what was on the unsaved document and closed the application. He went back into the main room to see his Father in a meeting with Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, and Green Lanterns (Bravo and Foxtrot).

"We need to find out how we can help" Bravo, Hal Jordon, commented.

"All we know is that the miraculous are in play" Batman responded.

"Do we know which ones" Wonder Woman commented.

"Right now no."

"So asking for those of us who don't know, what is a miraculous?" Foxtrot, Jessica Cruz, asked.

"Essentially jewelry, like the lantern rings, but are powered by pocket sized gods"

"Heroes are called Ladybug and Chat Noir" Drake supplied from the other side of the room.

"The Ladybug and Black Cat then. Do we know who they are fighting?" Wonder Woman asked.

At that point in the conversation Damian noticed there was 30 minutes until the meet up so he went to get dressed in his Robin uniform.

"Honestly Bats if you don't like outside heroes in your city. How would they react to outside heroes who have never heard of them?" the Flash made a valid point.

Batman hummed and was going to speak, but Damian beat him.

"Then it is a good thing that Father and I are meeting the heroes in 15 minutes.” By now Damian was standing behind his father in full view of the league members. Everyone stared at him, he was pretty sure Superman was going to say something about his piercing. As the boy scout was pointing to Damian's right where two hammered platinum earrings were.

"Then we will give a report later then." his father signed off and turned to him expectantly.

"Damon" was his response.

'sigh' "Alright lets go."

The two of them slipped out of the hotel and made it to the Eiffel Tower unnoticed. They waited a few minutes until they heard what sounded like a grapple wire and a thump they couldn't place. Two teens no older than him were in front of them. The thump must have come from the baton the blonde boy dressed as a cat in leather was holding. The girl was in a red spotted spandex suit with hair so dark it shone blue.

"Pup" he heard Damon shout before flying over and hanging upside down from his bracer.

"Tt. At least you left a note before zipping off." Robin scolded the kwami.

"Yes and it worked out."

"You didn't know where to start did you?"

"No, but..."

"It worked"

"Exactly"

That was when they noticed the two Parisians laughing and giggling respectively. A small smile, not smirk Damian can tell the difference, played an Batman's lips.

"So Monsieur Robin, you are the pup this one spoke of" Ladybug finally pushed past the giggles.

"Tt. you didn't introduce your self" he scolded yet again.

"Nope" Damon smirked popping the 'P' "that's why I have you pup." he flew up and landed on his head laying down.

"Tt. This" Robin pointed to the crown of his head "is Damon, Kwami of space" said Kwami lifted a paw and dropped it again.

"Why come and offer help now when you hadn't responded to our pleas before." Chat Noir seemed to bite out.

"Damon noticed the miraculous were active so we dug into it." Robin shrugged.

"Because a kwami tells you you believe it, when we have been asking the Justice league for help these past five years." Ladybug tried to remain calm, but there was a hard edge to her voice.

"The aren't any records for Paris from the past five years" Batman stated.

"What!" both Parisians yelled.

A chuckle escaped Damon, as he floated in front of the Parisians. "Its because of you little bug."

"What! I didn't do anything" she shook her head.

"Not consciously. You subconsciously erased those videos to avoid an akuma that was already empowered before turning. The same goes for the news outlets. You are unconsciously restricting the news of akuma to prevent already super powered threats." Damon explained.

"Oh" was spoken so softly Damian saw more than heard her say it.

"Robin why don't you transform and LB can catch Batman up on the situation while we patrol." Chat Noir attempted ease the group of the revelation Damon provided.

He looked to his father who gave him a nod. In a flash of indigo blue he transformed. A charcoal loose shirt, pants, and gloves. Black reinforced boots, vest, and greaves. The vest had a dark blue center, like the boots across the top of the foot. The greaves had a shocking blue cuff matching the blade edges of his twin swords, and the bats on both his boots and belt. A navy blue cape hung at his shoulders ending at his knees was held in place by two shoulder plates. A black mask covered the bottom half of his face, his hair turned midnight blue, and his eyes a haunting icy blue.

"What should we call you?" Ladybug asked him.

"Bat?" he answered slightly unsure.

"Maybe add a descriptor." his father stated a smirk on his face.

"Blue, no Nelly." He decided. "My name is Nelly Bat." His father nodded and Ladybug gave a wave as Chat Noir dragged him away to patrol.

This was shaping up to be an interesting world he fell into.

#maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #miraculous x dc #mlb x dc #bat!miraculous #crossing worlds au

[ragingbookdragon]

A Lifetime In The Dreams Between

Hal Jordan x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.1K Warnings: Explicit Lanuage, Angst!

Author's Note: I have completed an idea! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

He didn’t know what happened. One second he was throwing up a shield to protect himself from the blast and the next his eyes were widening as the black magic passed through the construct and hit him straight in the chest. Shouts echoed all around him, but all Hal understood was that the world was swirling black and blue around him, figures blurring faster and faster, and he finally understood what it was like to see the world when Barry would run. And all he remembered was feeling the blood drain from his face as he dropped to his knees, and pitched forward, falling into darkness.

***

He could hear voices above him, stressed and frantic.

“He’s going into cardiac arrest!” Barry.

“Shit! Flash shock him!” (Y/N)?

“He won’t survive that much generated electricity!”

“Hal won’t survive if you don’t! Damn it, Barry! Shock him!”

Hands pressed to his chest and a shock jumped Hal’s chest, and he descended back into darkness.

***

His eyes snapped open, and he winced, raising a hand to his head, but someone grabbed his arm. “Don’t try to move, Hal.”

He lolled his head, eyes rolling as the metal ceiling flowed above; he felt so far away and so weak, brain fuzzing, and Barry appeared in his sight, searing his gaze.

“He’s having a seizure. His brain can’t handle the stress.” He looked at the woman across from him. “We have to get him to the med bay.”

She nodded, folding Hal’s hand back to his chest as she worried, “Hang on, Hal. You’re going to be okay.”

(Y/N)’s voice was so comforting, so warm, so trusting, and all Hal could do was shut his eyes, his brain imploding on itself.

***

He rolled over onto his side, burrowing his face in the soft pillow, exhaling deeply. Sleep welcomed him again and he was about to fall off the deep end when someone’s hand caressed his hip, lips pressing against the space between his shoulder blades.

“Good morning,” they murmured, trailing kisses up his back to his neck and to his ear. “Sleep well?”

He moaned lowly in his throat and turned his head, blinking blearily as their face came into clearing—actually her face, and suddenly his eyes went wide as he flailed, pulling away from her. “(Y/N)!”

She cocked a brow as he fell over the side of the bed, immediately shooting up, eyes shocked and very confused. “That’s my name, Hal.” Propping herself on her elbow, she asked, “Everything alright?”

Hal’s mouth opened and closed, and he looked down, his eyes widening all over again as he realized he was nude; he jerked the sheet to cover himself, an action not really in his repertoire. His coffee eyes went to her body, and she was there too, bare as the morning day.

“You’re naked. We’re naked,” he blurted out and she huffed a laugh.

“Yeah? Traditionally, married people typically get naked every other night when they make love.”

“Married?” Hal’s eyes shot to his left hand, and he almost collapsed on the floor again; sure enough a gold band was around his ring finger. “Holy shit,” he breathed, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be more shocked about, the fact that they were married or that he didn’t remember it.

“Hal?” (Y/N) was crawling over the bed, her hand coming to cup his cheek. “Is everything alright?”

He gazed into her eyes, so stunned that this woman that hated his guts was so concerned for him. “I…I don’t know.”

Her brows furrowed and she shuffled, sitting on the edge of the bed, and maneuvered Hal’s head until it was resting in her lap, his back against the side of the frame. She carded her fingers through his hair and bent down, gently pressing kisses where she could reach, to his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his lips, everywhere; then she smiled against his lips. “Something tells me you and Barry got so drunk last night you forgot you married me.”

“What?”

(Y/N) snorted, pulling away and with her free hand, she caressed his cheek. “You and Barry went to Aviators last night and came back at like three AM hammered out of your minds.” Her smile was ridiculously bright, and it made Hal’s heartbeat flutter against his rib cage. “You,” she started, but broke into a giggle. “You looked at me and said, ‘Hey pretty mama, wanna fly with me?’.”

Laughing again, she continued, “And when I said that I was your wife, you went, ‘Holy shit, I scored.’.” (Y/N) sighed wistfully and kissed his forehead. “Barry collapsed onto the couch, and you left a trail of clothes from the living room before collapsing in the bed.”

Tugging a strand of his brown hair, she said, “I had to maneuver the covers underneath your body in order to get into bed last night.” She pressed one more kiss to his forehead. “You’re still hungover though, so get back in bed and sleep a little while longer while I go make sure Barry’s up and awake, okay?”

Hal could only nod and when he tipped his head up to let her stand, he stopped her and pulled her down, pressing his lips to hers. (Y/N) responded eagerly, already forgoing checking on the Speedster as she lowered herself into his lap, and Hal immediately wrapped one arm around her waist, the other planting itself on the bed as he shifted his legs, giving himself some leverage to pick the two of them off the ground and shuffle back onto the bed.

And the second Hal’s thighs connected with the mattress he found himself being shoved down onto it, (Y/N)’s hands smoothing down his chest and abs, a flirtatious look on her face.

He couldn’t help but feel cocky. “See something you like?”

She grinned, splaying her fingers on his abdomen. “Actually, I feel something I like.” (Y/N) ground down on his hips and Hal inhaled sharply, causing her grin to turn into a downright evil smirk as she quipped, “And it seems like you feel it too.”

His hands came up to grasp her hips when someone stumbled through the bedroom door. “Hey, do you guys have any toothpa—oh dear God, you guys are fonduing!” They both jumped and looked at Barry who was busy shoving a hand to cover his eyes, the other fumbling for the door frame. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t see anything, (Y/N).”

Hal snorted. “How come you’re not swearing you didn’t see any of me?”

“Because I’ve seen all of you before, Hal. Multiple times in fact.” Barry retorted, speeding out of the bedroom.

(Y/N) chuckled and pressed a kiss to Hal’s collarbone, starting to shimmy out of his lap, only stopping when he started whining at her. “What?”

“Why are you leaving?” he questioned, and she flicked his shoulder.

“Because you need to get up and cook some breakfast before all of us have to get back out and go to work.”

Hal blanched. “Work?”

(Y/N) tossed him a look as she pulled on some pajama bottoms and one of his t-shirts. “Yes, Hal Jordan, you have to go into space and be a space ranger.”

“Oh, Green Lantern, right.” He sighed in relief. “I thought you meant the airfield.”

She snorted. “Oh, that too. Carol called and asked if you’d come down and fly one of the new F-18’s they got recently.”

Hal perked up. “How fast?”

“Fast, fly-boy. Now get up and go cook while I shower.” And she was off into their bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

***

Hal wandered into the kitchen, watching as Barry lifted his head from the refrigerator. “Morning.”

“Mornin’,” he replied, flicking on the coffee maker. “So…can I ask you a question?”

“I’m not checking your dick again to see if it’s above average, Hal,” Barry deadpanned and Hal about fell to his feet in laughter.

“What! No!” he chuckled and wiped his eyes, pouring water into the top of the coffee maker. “About last night…what…exactly happened?”

Barry looked at him, pulling out the pack of roast beef. “You don’t remember?”

“Well, from what (Y/N) said, I’m surprised either of us remembered how to get back here.” He met Barry’s eyes. “Everything’s a little fuzzy. I was just wondering if you could fill me in.”

The Speedster nodded, shoving a piece of meat in his mouth. “Well, I got off patrol and came over here, and then you said we should go out. But (Y/N) had some things to take care of, so she told us to go have fun. And then we went to that military bar you like, and we got dared to drink some marines under the table, and you can’t say no to a dare from ‘warthogs’, so you just had to drink more pitchers than they did.”

He snorted. “I barely had enough functioning brain cells to remember how to get back, but we just crammed into a cab and drove back here.” He wiped his eyes. “You kept telling the cabbie to play Danger Zone the entire time.”

Hal wasn’t somebody who was embarrassed easily, and as much as he loved Top Gun, he felt flustered that he was drunkenly belting out the main song the night before.

“And when we got here, I fell asleep on the couch, but (Y/N) was already chasing you down the hall because you were stripping left and right.”

Barry had all but fallen into hysterics as Hal merely set the coffee pot under the drip. “Yeah…about that too.” He felt confused. “You didn’t happen to like…change the timeline again, did you?”

The Speedster stopped laughing at that, blue eyes wide and concerned. “What? No. Why do you ask?”

Hal shook his head, twirling the gold band on his finger. “Because I don’t really remember marrying (Y/N)? But I do remember how much she hates my guts.”

“Well, yeah, but that death scare you gave her a few years ago really made her realize that as much as she hated you, she loved you just as much.” Barry rested a hand on his shoulder. “Now that I think about it, you did take a bad blow a couple days ago. Maybe you’re still reeling.”

The pilot nodded, listening to the coffee pour. “Yeah…maybe.”

Footsteps sounded from the living room and (Y/N) appeared in the entryway, a towel wrapped around her head, a bathrobe around her body; she scowled. “Hal, you were supposed to start breakfast.”

He blinked. “I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

“Lazy,” she griped, yanking the roast beef out of Barry’s hands. “That’s for sandwiches, not to eat out of the package, you bottomless pit.” Shoving the meat back in the refrigerator, she said, “There’s eggs…ham…I could omelets?”

“Omelets sound good,” Barry replied, taking the coffee mug out of Hal’s hands who in turn glared at the Speedster. “Do you have onions and peppers to add?”

“Mmm…I dunno…Hal used the last of the onions and peppers the other night to make steak with.” (Y/N) looked back at him, lips parting to speak when a beeping came from the living room.

Barry darted out and back in with a blinking device in his hands. “It’s the League Communicator.”

Immediately, she and Barry suited up and her eyes found Hal’s behind her blue mask. “Highball, get your head in the game. We’ve got a mission.”

He shook himself out of his stupor and the green suit formed to his body, though he muttered, “I still haven’t had my coffee yet…”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Race you guys to the Watchtower.”

“You’re on.” Barry chirped, the two of them disappearing in flashes of yellow and blue.

***

It seemed like much more routine patrol than it was a mission, but still, when Hal and (Y/N) finally made it back to Coast City, they all but collapsed onto the couch. Her suit faded from her body, and she rolled onto her back, laying her head on his thigh.

“I’m so tired,” she groaned, shutting her eyes.

Hal stared down at her, the green suit receding. “You look tired,” he murmured, resting his arm comfortably on her chest, his fingers rubbing soothing circles in her collarbone. “I still can’t believe you socked that bank robber in the face like Guy.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Hey, that man can teach anyone to throw a good punch.” Her eyes opened, and she reached up, tracing the dark circles under his eyes. “You look more tired than I am, husband of mine.”

Hal smiled, turning his face to press a sweet kiss to her wrist. “I’m just glad we’re home for the evening.” He expected her face to rest in relief, but it only clouded, and he murmured, “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember what we talked about a couple week ago?”

No, he did not.“You know I have a terrible memory, babe.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, a knowing sigh passing her lips. “Your memory is almost as bad as Barry’s ability to be on time.” Blinking at the ceiling, she said, “You know, what we talked about…having a family? How you said you wanted to try?”

Hal’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Yeah? What about it?”

She looked up at him. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?” His eyes immediately darted to her stomach, and he reached down, pressing his hand to her abdomen. “Are you really?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah. Took a test last night.” Snorting, she added, “I was going to tell you, but you went out and got drunk, so I figured I should wait.”

Hal simply stared at her stomach. “Holy shit. You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, Hal. I’m pregnant.”

“I did that?”

“No, Bruce did.”

He scowled at her. “That’s not funny.”

(Y/N) winked. “No, it’s not. It’s hilarious.” She rose from the sofa, stretching her arms above her head. “I say it’s probably time for bed.”

Hal watched her. “You go on ahead. I’ll be there soon.”

“Yeah?” he nodded, and she bent down, pecking his lips. “I love you, Hal.”

“I love you too, (Y/N),” he replied, watching as she walked down the hallway, disappearing into their bedroom.

It was so weird. To be married to her. He knew this had to be some giant hallucination from his subconscious desires of wanting her, but still, even this “dream” seemed so real. Usually, she and Hal were at each other’s throats; they’d fight at the drop of a hat just because the other looked at them funny, and yet, other than him and Barry, (Y/N) was the only person that could keep up with Hal. To keep him on his toes. The only person smart enough to keep in his six. The only person he trusted to be his wingman. And he realized through all their fights that he cared for her.

Hal looked down at the band on his finger, and something warm spread through his chest when he thought about a little kid running around the apartment dressed in a baby flight suit, squealing “daddy!” at the top of their lungs. He wanted that. As much as being a father scared him, he wanted that. And he wanted it with (Y/N).

He smiled widely and got to his feet, but the second he did, the world shifted, and his vision darkened, body becoming weightless as he dropped to the floor.

***

Something was stroking his hair, gently smoothing it across his forehead, and a voice whispered, “Wake up, Hal. C’mon.”

He tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy.

“If you wake up, I’ll watch Top Gun with you until you’re thoroughly convinced I could fly a jet.”

That made him want to smile and the hand shifted, cupping his cheek.

“Just open your eyes for me, Hal. Please. I…I need you.”

“You do?” he murmured, managing to crack one eye open, taking in the sight of (Y/N) sitting there beside his med bay bed, tears in her eyes.

She gave him a watery laugh and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his cheek. “Yes, you stupid ass.” (Y/N) pulled away, running her hand over his cheek. “You’ve been out almost an entire day.”

Hal inhaled deeply as she helped him sit up. “What happened?”

“You took a blow of dark magic to the heart and almost died on us. Twice.” She took his temperature and heart rate. “You went into cardiac arrest on the field and then had a seizure when we got you here in the Watchtower.” Meeting his eyes, she said, “You owe Barry a thanks for shocking your heart and J’onn for getting your mind to calm during your seizure.”

He blinked, completely dumbfounded. “Wow…that’s…I took a lot of damage, huh?”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed with anger, and she socked his shoulder. “You’re damn straight you did. What the fuck were you thinking? Using constructs against a black magician?”

“Well, what’d you want me to do? Stand there like a jackass?” Hal retorted with a glare.

“Maybe you could’ve moved?” she met his glare head on. “You almost got yourself killed.”

“People die every day, (Y/N). I’m going to die one day.”

“And who would you leave behind if you did, huh? You’d leave behind your family and friends. You’d leave behind Guy and Kyle and John. You’d leave behind Barry. You’d leave me behind.” (Y/N) searched his eyes. “Don’t you know how heartbroken we’d be if you died, Hal? How devastated I’d be?”

Hal’s jaw went slack, and she shook her head. “This is just like you. Always flying headfirst into danger without a single regard for anyone else. You are so foolish and stupid and—”

He grabbed her chin and pulled her to him in a searing kiss. It was over as fast as it happened and when he pulled away, he smirked at the stunned expression on her face. “Oh? So that’s what it takes for you to quit yelling at me? Man, I should’ve done that a long time ago.”

(Y/N) blinked in shock, one hand coming to press against her lips. “What…what was that?”

“That was a kiss, (Y/N). You see when two people care about each other very much they—”

The meeting of a palm and a cheek echoed through the med bay, and he grabbed his face, gaping at her as she scrambled up.

“You don’t just kiss people, you ass!” (Y/N) shouted, though she looked more flustered than angry. “That’s—It’s not right!”

She spun and ran for the med bay doors, and he called out, “Wait! You didn’t tell me if you loved me!”

“Go to hell, Hal Jordan!” she shouted in return and Hal grinned wide and smug as he reclined on the pillows, eyes directing to the glass window, giving him the view of space.

That dream didn’t seem too far out of reach now.

#hal jordan imagine #hal jordan imagines #hal jordan x reader imagine #hal jordan x reader imagines #hal jordan x reader #hal jordan #green lantern imagine #green lantern imagines #green lantern x reader imagine #green lantern x reader #green lantern x reader imagines #green lantern #lanternfamily x reader imagine #lanternfamily x reader imagines #lanternfamily x reader #lanternfamily imagine #lanternfamily imagines #lanternfamily #barry allen #the flash #flash #j'onn j'onzz #martian manhunter #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc

[seekingseven]

Another drabble request: how does Four find out about Twilight's wolf form?

Linked Universe Prompt Requests #8!

Oh, that's a great question! Here's one possible way it could have gone down...

⚠️CW: Alcohol Mention! ⚠️

(You can also read the fic here on Ao3!)

~~~~~~

Four was not the kind of person who spent his evenings in a places like this, and he knew Twilight and Time weren't either.

Maybe that was why he was so uncomfortable.

Music pulsed through the floor, amplified by the tavern's high ceilings and the patrons' warbling voices. Drinks clinked, beer frothed, and lantern light clotted over polished countertops. Across the room, a red-lipped waitress tossed a red-faced patron a pinched smile, the kind that crinkled at the edges with professional, faux patience, and the man let out a wheedling chuckle. A group of boys howled at each other as glossy cards splashed across their table. Behind the bartop, a tenderfaced bartender dropped a stack of glass mugs, and a nearby group of tipsy women had begun to crackle out the Hylian national anthem.

Four pressed his hands over his eyes and tried to cough out the smell of vomit and rotting sweat. No use. Spirals pulsed at the edges of his vision--he was pressing too hard--and he let his hands slide into his lap. The muscles in his neck tensed as he slipped deeper into Twilight's pocket.

This was not what he had in mind when he had decided to follow Time and Twilight on their "quick, fifteen minute errand." He had been right in deducing it was more than that, of course; reports of local children going missing near a known monster hideout hadn't inspired confidence in Four that grocery shopping was all on the two's minds.

But, a tavern?

To each their own, he supposed, but he couldn't entirely stifle the little flame of disappointment in his chest.

Adrenaline gushed through his throat as the world swung around him; Twilight was moving again. Vibrations thudded through the cloth around him. The overhead lanterns flickered crazily, blocked by Twilight's shoulders one minute and blazing down his backside the next. Four shielded his eyes under his hands and stared at his knees. This whole shrinking thing had been a bad--terrible--idea. He could only hope that Time and Twilight had a lower alcohol tolerance than they appeared to.

The movements stop, and Four sighed as the acid in his throat slipped back down. A booming echoed from overhead, and Four couldn't help but wonder if this is what the Minish had to deal with whenever he came to visit.

"Is Mr.Garto here?"

Four's ears perked up; that was Twilight's voice, and that was the name of the man who had first begun reporting the disappearances. Interest piqued, he righted himself until he as peering just over the small slip of space between the pocket and Twilight's tunic. If he turned just enough, he could catch a glimpse of Time's legs and the mahogany bartop behind them.

"He's not here right now," a voice whispered. The muscles crisscrossing Four's chest cinched. That wasn't the sound of a bored bartender, or a dolled up waitress, that was...

"A child?" Time asked, voice thick with its typical lack of tack. "Where are your parents? A tavern is no place for a boy your age."

Silence--at least, between the three parties. The debauched din around them showed no interest in smothering itself for the sake of dramatic tension.

"My parents work here," the voice replied. It was soft, but there was a bristle underneath it; a boy, Four would bet, and a frightened one at that. "My dad's Mr.Garto. Amerigo Garto. He's out right now. If you have questions, then you can, uh, demect them to me."

"Cute," Twilight murmured, voice lowered so that he was its only listener. Four would have rolled his eyes if he didn't happen to also find the childish mispronunciation endearing.

"Very well then," Time cut in. Whatever spell the boy's subtle stutter had cast on Twilight was lost on him, judging from the clipped words and serious tone. "Please tell your father that we would like to speak to him about the abductions. If he has any information, he's welcome to contact us. Here's the postal address of the inn my teammates and I are staying in."

A shuffle of cloth, and the faint sound of a hand bumping a counter. Four pulled his arms over the pocket and strained his neck to the side. The cloth around him dipped under his weight, threatening to give, and Four flinched so hard that he slipped back inside.

"You're looking for them?" the voice came again. "The lost kids?"

Time chuckled. The paternal sound felt oddly out of place in the drunken supernova around them. "Of course we are. We have an idea of where they might be, so we wanted to get in contact with your father to see if he had any more information."

Twilight leaned forward, letting both his pocket and his pocket-sized stowaway swing along with him. "We'll find them for sure. Don't worry."

"You will? Do you think you can find them? My sister and my puppy, I mean."

"Your sister?" Time asked.

"Your puppy?" Twilight added.

The boy's voice seemed smaller, now, lighter, and it took little imagination to envision the pale faced, blue-eyed seven ear old that was undoubtedly cowering under the others' combined stares. "Yes. They were the first to go missing, sir. Sirs. I hope you can find them. Let...let me know if I can help."

Across the bar, someone threw a bottle of wine against the wall. Glass powdered around the purple stain in the wood. Twilight flinched. A gaggle of teenage laughed in their testosterone-saturated way, unabashedly amused at the adults making spectacles of themselves, and Four stifled the urge to slap all of them.

"We will," Time said. His voice was a breath's distance from inaudible. "Take care, little one. We'll speak to you soon."

A mumble of agreement, muffled, and Four clutched the fabric of Twilight's pocket as the world spun on his heel. Left, right, left; he was swaying with each pull and pinch of movement, and he caught only a heartbeat's glimpse at the boy before Twilight and Time exited the tavern.

He looked exactly as Four had imagined him to.

"That's so sad," Twilight murmured, letting the tavern door close softly behind him. "I hope we find them."

"We will. Hopefully Garto gets in contact with us soon. For now, we'll just need to brief the others and see if there are any other locals who might have more information."

"Yeah, yeah. That sound about right."

This time, the silence was real. Only the sounds of feet squelching against mud and dirt interrupted their thoughts.

Twilight stopped. Four gripped the back of his head and hissed as it bonked against the raised metal of Twilight's scabbard.

"Hold on," the rancher began, "I forgot something back there."

"Forgot? What?"

"...something. I'll be back. Don't wait for me."

"Sure. Try to not stay out to long, though."

Twilight assured he wouldn't, then turned heel. Feet against the floor, night air, cold, and then a flush of heat. The air is stuffy again, and the quiet is gone, and Four is peering precariously between gaps in the pocket stitching. He thumps against the back of Twilight's leg as the rancher makes another sharp turn. It's a wonder that the rancher hasn't grown suspicious of the wiggling in his pocket yet.

But perhaps he was too occupied to grow suspicious, because Twilight slowed to a stop and leaned forward on what Four assumes to be the bartop.

"Is the kid still here?"

A grainy voice responded with a huff and grunt. "No, he went outside. Just through the hallway. Something about wanting to play hopstoch."

"Ah, okay. Thank you."

Another snort. "If you find him, tell him to come back inside. It's too dark to be out alone."

Twilight made a sound that could have been construed to be somewhat affirmative, then hurried out the door. The evening breeze, greased with the steam and sweat spilling from the tavern's backdoor, greeted them again. A clink of metal and the cloth ruffling; Four furrowed his eyebrows. What was Twilight up to?

It was the last cohesive thought he would have for a good minute.

The cotton confines around him popped out of existence. Air rushed against his head and through his air as he fell, weightless, and he had barely processed the fact that Twilight had vanished before he thumped against a tree stump. Dazed but unharmed, he sat up, eyes widening.

In the place where Twilight had stood mere moments ago was a massive grey wolf.

A wolf...

Wolfie?

"Who's there?" someone whispered. A figure on the other side of the backyard inched forward, and Four's throat tightened when he recognized it as the boy from earlier. His eyes were red. Little hopstotch stones dangled between his fingers, shining and unused.

The wolf--Wolfie--barked. The boy flinched, squeezing his elbows to his sides. Wolfie barked again, insistent, and wagged his tail furiously. Blue eyes watched silently as Wolfie rolled on his side, then chased his tail, then made an impressive show of chasing a terrified chipmunk through the yard. Gradually, the boy's eyebrows slipped downwards. Wolfie let out another bark. A whisper of a smile pinched at the boy's mouth.

"Where did you come from, big guy?"

Wolfie barked again, advancing further and, when the boy didn't recoil, butted his head against scabbed knees. The boy laughed again. Wolfie's tail wagged harder.

"You're so big! Who's your owner? They must take really good care of you. And you look really strong, too. Look at these muscles!"

The boy carefully closed a hand around Wolfie's paw, then lifted it upwards. Strength roiled beneath an oily coat, and the boy let out a small gasp of awe.

"Wow! You look even tougher than my sister! Hey, wanna play hopscotch with me? I think you would be good at it."

If Wolfie licking the boy's face wasn't confirmation enough, him hopping towards the dilapidated hopscotch court was. The boy laughed with delight and rubbed Wolfie's snout, giggling harder as the wolf licked a wet strip across his cheek.

"Huh," Four murmured, picking stray wood chips out of his hair and grinning to himself. "Looks like we both have a little secret."

~~ Fine ~~ I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading! [Previous Request] - [Next Request!]

#linkeduniverse #linkeduniverse twilight #linkeduniverse wolfie #minish four #linkeduniverse fanfic #so sorry for the plethora of typos here im just #this fic turned out to be a lot more of a challenge than i thought it would be #haha! #hope you enjoy! #seeking's prompt requests #ope forgot a tag #linkeduniverse four