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thegildedbee · 4 days

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Choice: May 10 Prompt from @calaisreno

Program Note: Here, apparently, is my version of the Fall (I didn't know I had one until writing this 👻 in response to the picture the word "Choice" prompted in my mind's eye.) Because I'm doing these on the hoof, you may find aspects that don't make sense or contradict something I wrote previously and so on. I point this out not to whine,😊 but to invite you, if you're perplexed at anything, to feel free to let me know, in the notes or by message! I'll add any feedback re incongruities to my own growing list of errors, and, if I do something with these prompt puppies someday in actual fic form, I'll be sure to ponder any observations you send my way! ( tgb 🐝) ...........................................

Fleeing from Kitty Riley’s home after Moriarty's escape, Sherlock is more furious than he has ever been at any time in his life, and his breathing is shallow and patchy. He stands in the middle of the street, caught in indecision, as he watches John paging through the cuttings in Jim’s “Richard Brook” file folder, his heart beating erratically, his mouth pressed into a line that twists into a grimace, despair evident in every centimeter of his body.

John registers the sudden quiet, and looks up distractedly, his forehead creasing in concern when he spies Sherlock suspended between one side of the street and the other, immobile.

“Sherlock? What? What is it?”

Sherlock’s brain has been stoppered along with the rest of his body, through the force of the emotional tsunami racing through his nervous system. He closes his eyes briefly, registering the storm inside: fury, despair, futility, chaos, blackness, and a deep unhappiness that any semblance of okay has disappeared, blown far out of sight and beyond his reach. His mind stutters on the last one, and he suddenly knows where he should be.

“There’s something I need to do,” he says grimly, looking at John as if peering at him from a vast distance, which he is. He feels his thought processes beginning to slowly start making connections again.

“What is it? Can I help?” John says, confused, tentative.

“No. The rest I have to figure out on my own.” Sherlock turns away from John and breaks into a jog on his way to Bart’s, intent on catching Molly before she leaves the building, his feet pounding in a dismal cacophony as he makes his way. The mounting tension pressing against his skin from deep inside his body levels off when he catches sight of her in the hallway, and he skids to a stop and flags her down.

“Molly. Earlier – when you said I looked sad, and asked me if I was okay. You were right. I am sad, and I’m not okay. Time is running out. I have very little room to maneuver, and none at all if I can’t find an ally I can trust. You said you didn’t count, and that’s not true. You do count. I’ve always trusted you. That’s why I’m here now. ”

He looks at her intently, saying urgently, “I need your help. Moriarty has injected a lethal poison into the world that surrounds me, and its effects are accelerating, and they’ll soon take on a life of their own, if they haven't already.” He stops, fists balled up, his fingernails sending sharp stabs of pain through his system.

Molly returns his gaze, also intent, scanning his face, her forehead furrowed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I think I’m going to die.”

“Explain.”

“I will. But first – it’s important for you to know that you can tell me no, for what I'm about to ask” he says softly, slowly, carefully. “If I wasn’t everything that you think I am – everything that I think I am – would you still want to help me?”

Molly looks back at him, steady on. “Sherlock. You are many things, some good, some not so good, some peculiar, some hard to fathom, some astonishing. Inside these walls, I have spent thousands of hours reconstructing lives with you, and beside you. I know who you are when you are here and I know it to be who you are when you walk back out these doors.”

She sits down on a stool, and says gently, “Tell me what you need. I’ll do my best to help you.” She watches as Sherlock gives her an achingly helpless nod, an expression that she doesn’t think she’s ever seen before on his face. “It’s urgent, yes? Let’s get started then. What do you need?”

“You. I need you. Your medical expertise. Your access to Bart’s. Your ability to work with my streetside networks. Your solidity. Your counsel.”

As he speaks, Molly sees him beginning to regain his footing, and says, encouragingly, “Go on.”

“Moriarty is nearly done setting up his fun house mirrors, reflecting a false image of me to the world, destroying my reputation. I think he means for this all to end by making it seem as if I’ve committed suicide, when it will actually be by his hand in one way or another. It’s inevitable.

“I have a very few hours to try and tilt the odds in my favor. I need to meet him at a time and place of my choosing – in the morning, here at Bart’s, on the rooftop. No cctv; no outside intrusions; no other people at hand. Just the two of us, finishing the game he’s been playing, moving the last two pieces on the board: him, and me.

“But the roof, Sherlock. That sounds incredibly dangerous. What if he forces you off the edge?”

Sherlock continues, his tone grim and determined. “It may come to that, although I will do my best to turn the tables on him. I won’t know until I meet with him what options are viable. I hope to capture him; my best chance of repairing the damages he's made by his slashing through my existence is to take him alive. But it may not be possible. The roof we’re standing on – he may go over the side; I may go over the side; we both may go over the side. I am going to try and prepare for these eventualities, but I have very few resources I’ll be able to have at hand. I’m afraid that, in the end, it will come down to the unanticipated, and to whatever luck the universe will allow.”

“If you fall – how are you going to manage that?” Molly probes, worried.

“Before I answer you, first -- when this is happening, I’m going to need you to be in contact with Wiggins. Hold on, let me make sure he’s gettable.” Sherlock steps aside to send a text and then sets down his mobile -- and then immediately picks it up again, glancing up at Molly. “One more – stay with me,” and his fingers set to work sending a message to another number. He regroups, then at the feel of his mobile vibrating, holds up a finger. “Okay, Wiggins is standing by for instructions after we’re done."

Sherlock takes in a deep breath and pauses, and then takes in one more. “I’ll ask him to have members of his crew gather signs that can be placed to block off the street, and arrange those people so that they can reinforce the restricted access. There will be a crucial period when there should be nobody on the street who is not one of our confederates. He’ll text you when that is, and I’ll need for you to keep a lookout and provide help from inside the building, in heading off any of Bart’s personnel who may be at ground level for some reason, and who look inclined to leave the premises.

“That’s one thing. The next is if I’m injured. I’ll need for you to assess the situation and, only if it’s absolutely necessary, get some of them to help you route me to the emergency room. But only if it’s absolutely necessary. You know that my definition of absolutely necessary will be much further out on the scale than anyone else’s. Anything short of that, I’m asking you to triage me yourself as best as possible until Mycroft appears.

“Mycroft is helping, then?”

“No, not yet. I can’t be sure he’s not compromised. After whatever events transpire on the roof, I’ll know which it is, but I don’t have enough evidence yet. If I’m dead, it won't matter which it is. If I’m conscious, I can let him stay, or send him away and zigzag myself away somehow, whichever makes sense.”

Molly waits quietly, absorbing all the details she's being entrusted with.

“There are two items I need, and I’ve told Wiggins where to find the first – one of the old-fashioned nets that firefighters used before modernizing their equipment, in the case of suicidal jumpers or people up several stories high, caught in a burning building. They’re circular, but they’re stored folded in half. There’ll be a large laundry truck at the site, and the net will be stored hanging on the outside passenger side panel. Wiggins’ people will grab it, open it, and hold it – and we’ll hope for the best.

Molly's eyes dart back and forth, turning over the scenario. “But Sherlock, that’s incredibly risky. If the net is that old – whatever material it’s made out of could have degraded over the years, as well as depending on how it's been stored. It may not hold, and that’s if you actually land on it.”

“Or I can land on it, and it holds, but the momentum causes my body to bounce off of it, and I may get smashed up even so," Sherlock says evenly.

“Or no matter how hard they try to manage it," Molly continues, "one or more of the people holding it could falter, causing it to tilt at an angle, or even drop it before you land, or drop it if and when you hit it, come to that."

"Yes," Sherlock affirms. “Or there could be a wind gust that throws things off. And so on. I know. As clever as we both are, I’m sure we could find more specifics of what can go wrong. But at that point I’ll have no control over the matter, so spending more time on it now won’t help me stay alive."

Sherlock’s mobile vibrates again, and he reaches out quickly to grab it, as if it is something vital to hang onto while floating across a stretch of ocean, lost. After he reads the message, he also sits down, the stool catching him as he sways, and slips, holding him up.

Feeling some of his rising panic receding, he says, “There, that’s the second piece. There’s a small company about an hour outside of London, D30, that makes body armor for extreme athletes who ski, use motorcycles, and so on, people who attempt jumps and find themselves falling from a height, and need impact protection. They're doing work for the military now as well. They’re brilliant chemists, and they’ve been working with polymers and created a material that’s soft and pliable, but when hit with force it goes rigid, dispersing the force at the points of contact, and then returns to its original state. I’ve texted one of the engineers to see if they can bring me something to wear, and they should be here within the hour. It should help some."

“That's good," Molly says, although the stern cast of her face is at odds with her words, the reason why revealed with what she says next. "Sherlock, what about John? Why isn’t he involved in this? Or is he, toward some other end?” Molly asks, tense and apprehensive.

“Whether or not Moriarty and I actually physically struggle, I may still need to make the choice to jump, because I may need to buy time up ahead to be safe from Moriarty’s people while I try and neutralize them – especially if I can’t trust Mycroft. I may need to appear to have died."

Sherlook looks her in the eye, and then drops his gaze. “I’ll need two forms of evidence to bluff being dead. One is to have you do the autopsy and sign the death certificate. For the second verification, I'll need a compelling witness at the scene, and that will be John. I will need for him to believe I’m dead, no question, in order to convince others, as everyone will be looking to him over the days ahead, to see if there are any falsities about what's happened, and if he puts a foot wrong, it will all be for naught. He’ll have to be there to confirm my fall and how it killed me.

“There’ll need to be some stagecraft – I’ve stored some blood in the empty cadaver bin at the end of the last row on the bottom, which you’ll need to hand over to Wiggins, and which they'll spill around my head. I’ll place a rubber ball in my armpit that I’ll squeeze against my side, and that will stop my pulse along that arm."

Molly looks dissatisfied with the chain of thoughts Sherlock is sharing, but she remains quiet. "An additional bit of insurance that this will go off as it should," Sherlock continues, noting her disquiet, but shrugging to himself mentally, "there’ll be a bicycle rider who will collide with John to slow him down as he moves toward where I've landed. When he stops to help John up, he’ll place one of his riding gloves over John’s nose and mouth. His gloves will be soaked in a substance that, when John inhales it into his lungs, will immediately hit his bloodstream; he'll be light-headed and disoriented and somewhat clumsy for a short while. After it clears his system, he’ll assume that how he felt will be due to the shock of seeing me fall.”

Having heard all she can without responding, she slides from her stool and stands up, bending her elbows and placing her hands on her hips. “You’ll tell him, won’t you? He’ll be devastated if he doesn’t know the truth, Sherlock.”

Sherlock shrugs, this time physically, his countenance withdrawn, his voice hesitant. “Initially, maybe. But I don’t think that John’s regard for me is based on a solid foundation. I told him once that heroes don’t exist, and that even if they did, I’m not one. But I think he’s invested in my being an infallible genius, and a chief reason he's stayed with me is that he has a front row seat to watch me perform my mental gymnastics. I’ve been observing him over the last hours, taking in the information that has been amassing that I’m a fraud, and I think it’s starting to have an effect. Even if he doesn’t completely believe everything they’ll say about me, if he believes even some of it, that will be the end of us. And if he does manage to set all of that aside -- I will have irreparably disappointed him by not being able to anticipate Moriarty's game and to beat him at it . . . and, in fact, to have done as badly at handling Moriarty as anyone without a brain would."

“Sherlock, I don’t think that’s true about John," Molly says insistently.

"You may be right, Molly. But beyond me, beyond myself, the horrible stories that are being spun are catching John within the web as well. The collateral injustices he will have to bear is thatof being an object of curiosity, of pity, of scorn -- at the very least -- and, much worse, he will come under suspicion himself of having been duplicitous." Sherlock sinks his head down into his hand, his expression wrecked and weary. "I don't want to add fuel to that fire, and divorcing him from myself and my work is the only thing I have of value to give him, in a poor imitation of compensatory and punitive damages for loss of employment, emotional distress, and product liability," he says forlornly, his tone edging into bitterness.

"Sherlock, even so, you need to give John a chance to let you know how he’s responding to all of this. Don't assume you know his mind."

Sherlock's eyes dart back and forth, lighting anywhere but in her direct line of sight. "I will, Molly. I’ll see him one more time, here in the lab before I go to meet Moriarty. I’ll be able to tell what he's decided about me then, after he’s had time to take in the latest theatrics and make a judgment. I'm sure he'll let me know what he thinks of me, and how he feels."

........................................................ @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper rest of the @s in the tags, which will work for communication purposes, I hope? just say the word if you want to be untagged or tagged xoxoxo

#mayprompts2024 #calaisreno #sherlock bits and bobs #may prompts 2024 #johnlock

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dairy-farmer · 2 months

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Young Justice Fuck Up AU? Tim is Robin, well into it. Not a rookie by any means.

But! Magic users, man. They stumble upon a mad scientist. Who is CONVINCED he can make sense of Magic. Instead it drove him crazy, as it tends too. The duke it out. Good ol punch fest.

But oh no! Perv man has been eyeing Cassie in a way none of them like, this whole fight. Makes a Comment as he levels a ray gun! "More agreeable"?! Oh HELL no!

Tim is closest. Bart still elbows deep, trying to stop some poor harpy woman from bleeding out in front of her kid. Tim pulls that Classic Hero Move(tm) and dives in front of his friend. Takes the beam.

Hits the ground. Feeling like he's on FIRE.

Terror Furious is a SCARY look on Amazons. Cassie breaks his damn near EVERYTHING before Kon can pull her off. Tim's not moving. Ray guns busted to hell. They take it anyway. Free everyone they can, take the "research" to try and make sense of it, burn that nightmare pit to the GROUND.

Tim wakes up with... weirdly nice hair and skin. Like? His complexion? Usually pale and half dead looking. His hair a birds nest. But he looks? Dewey. Ready for a photo shoot. He's also kinda hungry.

But? Nothing touchs it. Not coffee. Not toast. Not even when he breaks down and eats a "real" breakfast. He just feels kinda bloated.

And he notices.

That press ready complexion and such? Slowly gets duller as he gets hungrier. He's not stupid. Far from it. He's a god damned ROBIN. The ray DID something.

He testes his DNA.

It's no longer a match. Fuck. He tears apart the Creeps "research" looking for blueprints of that gun. It takes hours to find it. The missing Model? A young succubus. It's HER DNA in the gun.

He's literally gonna starve.

Obviously, he tells his team. And Obviously they swear not to let that happen. Everyone splits up. Kon flying him back to Gotham. They stop by his safe house. So he can get supplies. And Kon? Well he spent the flight THINKING. Stacks everything to the side, ready to go, and crowds his bro back up against a wall.

Hugs him real close. Fingertips touched to those bits of skin he can find, cheek pressed against cheek as he sucks in air. As he jacks it. Tim wide eyed and frozen, full body pressed against him, staring unseeing over his shoulder from where Kon tucked him close.

It's crazy. Kon knows he should be doing this. But he let's himself get into it anyway. Feel as much lust as he can. Feel as GOOD as he can. Because Tim needs it.

And Tim tries not to think about how it feels like perfection. When Kon cums on this thigh. How he can feel it even through his armor in a way he shouldn't be ABLE too. How he DOES, actually, feel so much better. Because he's going to "fix this". Turn back.

Except...

Except it doesn't seem to be working. Even with the awesome power of the Batcomputer and the advanced labs he has at his disposal in the cave? Everything pointing to his body not being able to HANDLE two full DNA changes back to back. Maybe in a DECADE... but...

No. He's running out of time!

And he IS. The other Bats have noticed he's not eating. Worse, they're clearing noting his physical decline. Digging for answers.

Finding them.

Dick storms up to him looking like murder Very Much is an option on the table. Doesn't so much slap the printout down as rest it like a death warrant on top of his keyboard. It's a print out of the ray gun. Fuck. He knows.

A second page. Print out of a conversation with with Zatara. How long can Succubus go with out eating? He passed "medically advisable" two days ago.

He refuses to look at Dick. The disappointment and no doubt disgust. That's why he doesn't see the arm coming to sweep him up and out of his seat. Barely has the strength to object and struggle. Dick ignores him. Carries him up stairs.

To his room.

Does he want Tim to rest? Conserve strength? But then why is he taking off his shirt? Tugging off Tim's sweats? The thought is so wild, so unimaginable and out of reach, it doesn't register until Dick has him pushed back and by the legs. Is leaning forward towards the hem of Tim's baggy sweater.

His entire body JOLTS.

He feels like he's been holding his breath too long and suddenly sucked in air. It doesn't JUST feel good, he feels light-headed with how hard it hits him. Dicks hands have slid up. Seized him by the hips so he can't escape. Now he's being devoured.

Dick is mad at him. Has to be. It goes beyond just being careful with a virgin. Wet, teasing, and relentless. It takes forever for there to be fingers. Then they're overwhelming and GOOD but not ENOUGH. It could only be on purpose. It's too deliberate.

Maybe he decides Tim's is gushing wet enough, or maybe it's the whimpering, like Tim's going to cry. But Dick decides to eventually take pity of him. Too shush and sooth. Scoop up and pull close, as he lines up and starts rocking DEEP.

And it's fizzing in Tim's veins. Fuller and fuller, closer and CONNECTED in a way that feels like he can KEEP. And Dick? Feels closer then he has in years. To anyone. He never wants to pull out. Wants to stay like this, rocking lazily in and out, riding the afterglow, FOREVER.

Wants to take him hard and deep, slow and sweet, bent in half and gasping for air. His, his, his~.

But? Guess who forgot to grab those papers? Dick. Guess who is Worried About His Son(tm)? Bruce. He snoops. He finds them. He has his moral panic and brooding session on a gargoyle in the rain. He does the mental gymnastics necessary to live with himself.

He tracks down Tim.

Because really, who else could they TRUST with this? And yes. Bruce has not been... the best mentor. But he has been trying to be better. Will be better! And he is not about to let some Creeps lay their filthy hands on his boy.

So Tim gets to live out his teenage hormone dreams~☆

Pulled into Batmans lap. Kissed as gentle, powerful, and calloused hands slide down his pants. Between his legs. To tease and rub. To slide deeper then in. Filling him, fucking him, stretching him in preparation for something BIGGER. All while his mouth is plundered by that commanding mouth. All while he squirms in his lap, feeling the thickness of what's going to be buried DEEP pressed against him.

Clothes discarded. Being lifted up. And pulled down onto something that feels like it can't possibly fit. Whining and breathing through it. Leaning forward and just breathing in the scent of Bruce's aftershave, concentrating on the beat of his heart. Being pulled all the way down to the root. Listening to him GROAN and rock Tim's body just to FEEL it.

Up and down, up and down. Lifted and dragged, like a sleeve. Held like a TREASURE. Listening to Bruce rumble out praise in a way he NEVER does. It drags against every good spot inside him. How could he not come apart? Over and over until his bones feel like goo and his head full of honey? Drooling and twitching against Bruce's chest.

At least he's not hungry when he wakes up.

The problem? BRUCE left those damn papers in the cave, too. And both Jason AND Damian found them. Independently of each other.

AND no one in this family TALKS to each other. So EVERYONE thinks that Only They(tm) can prevent him from starving to death.

He... he should tell them. Honestly, he's ABOUT too.

But then? The little nightmare is... not NICE, so much as civil to him? Something about a victory being meaningless if Tim starves thanks to his team mates slow reaction time. Tim likes to think NOT punching him for that remark is being rather mature, on his part. Still, it's nice he's largely backed off.

Only THEN? Tim finds out he backed off because he was going on some weird, DEFINITELY Bruce's Son, "journey of soul searching" about whether or not to fuck him to save his life? Did it never occer to EITHER of these two, to FIND him someone trustworthy? No? HAS to be done by their own two hands, huh?

Is control-freak a genetic trait? Asking for a friend. Who is Tim.

The answer was apparently "yes, he will do it", by the way. And was apparently Preparing himself mentally. How does Tim find out? He finds out in the showers, completely naked. Leg bruised to heck and back, trying to balance on wet tiles, when hot hands too small to be Dick or Bruce, steady him.

It's Damian.

Who is flushed and refusing to look at him. Embarrassed scowl all but carved onto his face. Helping wash with the same efficient but careful method he lovingly washs Titus. Crowding close to him. Sliding an arm around his waist to keep Tim upright. A bold but fumbling hand down and down, like he has a right to what he'll find.

Spreading and curling, under the sprays of water, everything slick. Pin pricks of water hitting his skin, as everything starts to feel so SENSITIVE. Damian pressing against his back like he wants to hide how badly he WANTS, even though Tim can FEEL how hard he is against his back. How greedy his hand is, as it explores.

Sliding to their knees, then the floor. Because Damian's legs have gone weak and Tim can't bear to put pressure on one of his. Damian scrambling forward, eyes almost manic, as he finally learns what all the FUSS is about. His Rival so magnificent beneath him.

Hands tracing scars. Rutting, slick and desperate, under the pouring showerheads. Clawing at those strong hips, to finally put theory into practice. Whining like he's WOUNDED against drenched skin. So HOT. So good.

No technique or skill.

Just frantic pounding. Deep. Again and again. Hips trapped in a desperate hold, as Damian throws everything he HAS into fucking the hot body beneath him. Overwhelmed by the need to milk himself DRY into the perfect vice around his young cock.

Tim not only isn't hungry the next few days, the little gremlin? A doting, if stabby, little shadow. Dick is thrilled they've "become friends". Tim wonders if this is what Talia was like with Bruce. Tries to keep track of his DNA.

Goes to Jason, because honestly, he's probably MET some Succubus before. What with his "Scew You, Dad!" World tour. Might know something. Problem is? The SECOND he climbs in the window? Jason just puts down his guns, turns, and pulls him into a kiss that melts his brain.

Tim's not even sure HOW he loses his clothes. Jason doesn't give him time to think. Next thing he knows, he's bent in half, being held still by his hair, as Jason both sucks the air out of his lungs and pounds him through the mattress. Grinding some little vibe he got from SOMEWHERE against his clit, like Tim isn't ALREADY losing his damn mind.

He absolutely loses time, after the second earth shattering orgasm.

All Tim knows is he wakes up with a drool and tear stained face, bones made if jello, and the bruises like he went a round with Bane. He's practically GLOWING with how well fed he is. Is bordering dangerously close to... to PERKY and Cheerful! In the MORNING!

If he could move, he would accuse Jason of some sort of dick based witchcraft.

Instead he's pulled close like some sort of lover and Jason mumbles something about breakfast after he wakes up. It BETTER include coffee. Tim can't move. Well, the healing ability is kicking in. But he gets to complain anyway!

He does not, in fact, remember to tell anyone.

They NEVER fucking communicate because of course they don't.

So each one of them, Secretly of course, keeps Tim's Super Secret Succubus Secret from the other's. And helps him feed. Secretly.

Tim is extremely well fed. And never DOES figure out how to change back... not that he tries too hard.

-🐼🐼🐼

tim being magically turned into a succubus and his family all independently deciding they will take on the oh so hard task of "helping" him and keeping him fed 👀👀! and then tim being in absolutely no rush to change back because he's well fed and taken care of so it's not like he's on a time crunch or anything 👀👀👀

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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mysteryideasgroup · 1 year

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MSA x WnG: A Matter of Loaf and Death AU Chapter 5: Going to Piella's Mansion and Spinel's Mansion/Discovered Revealing

Stormy Night, Gromit, Arturo with Sarah with her own pets Dogs/Kitsunes of Dog/Kitsune and Polter Dog/Kitsune and Laura with her own pet Polter Cat, Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs (MS (MysterySkulls), TSM (The Sector Mystery), MI (Mystery Ideas), MH (Mystery Hunters), MS (Mystery Slayers), TGBM (The Greatest Bakers Mystery) going to Piella's Mansion and Spinel's Mansion.

Gromit holding Piella's Purse, Arturo holding Spinel's Wallet, Rest of the Teams/Groups/Gangs are going to in entrance inside and hear the entrance doors are closed behind them. They see the light bottom of the doors.

Bart: Gromit, go to the door.

Sarah: Arturo, better to go.

Gromit and Arturo knock on the doors before being interrupted by a flash of lightning thunder lightning flash with Shadowy figures Fashions. They are shocked to see upstairs.

Sarah: What?

Arturo: It’s upstairs.

Sapphire: Wait...

Laura: Let’s check out...

Cera: ? (Seen shadowy figures in upstairs bedrooms)

They have confused about shadowy figures. They are shocked and turn to look at the doors to see upstairs. They slowly go upstairs and go to the bedrooms in shock and fear, revealing that 12 Fashions wore Bakers Chefs Hats and Aprons and 12 Dummies wore Bakers Chefs Hats and Aprons too.

Vera: ! (Seen shadowy figures wearing Bakers' clothing)

Albert: !? Oh my gosh, that’s full of creepy things that Bakers have clothes!

Sarah: Oh my God... Creepy, I’m realizing that Dead Bakers!

Samantha: ! Not good, Bakers have to be murdered and deaths.

Vicki: Not good! 12 Bakers and 12 Bakers have dead too had 24 bakers!

The rest of the Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs are shocked and horrified.

Arturo: Wait, guys, I noticed that 13 not having a baker's hat, apron, 13 not had.

Matilda: 13 not having too, now 24, left 2 not having Bakers Chefs and Aprons. 26 yet.

They are looking at 2 13 Fashions with Apron not having baker hat, apron, 13 not had. They are noticing that Diary Books.

Arturo: Guys, I think it's Diary.

Vera: I think it's Piella's Diary and Spinel's Diary.

Sarah: I’m thinking that bakers?

Laura: Sure, I’ll look inside...

Arturo put Spinel's Wallet on Hampton Mandi's Vanity table. They darted their eyes back and forth with caution to make sure no one was watching, Arturo and Sarah slowly opened the book while the others looked over their shoulders. Inside, there were pictures of Spinel with some Bakers. The Gangs noticed a number (1) on the photo, there was a picture of Spinel with a man in a Baker’s hat and baking uniform clothes, apron. The label underneath read ‘Edward Anderson’ and someone had drawn a big Red Cross X over the baker man’s face/body and looked to the number (1) of the Fashion Dummy that matched with it.

Gromit put Piella's Purse on Hampton Mandi's Vanity table. They darted their eyes back and forth with caution to make sure no one was watching, Gromit slowly opened the book while the others looked over their shoulders. Inside, there were pictures of Piella with some Bakers. The Gangs noticed a number (1) on the photo, there was a picture of Piella with a man in a Baker’s hat and baking uniform clothes, apron. The label underneath read ‘Norbert Stodge’ and someone had drawn a big Red Cross X over the baker man’s face/body and looked to the number (1) of the Fashion Dummy that matched with it.

Sarah and Arturo: Wait a minute...

Gromit is noticing that numerous of matches dead Bakers are familiar matches.

They turned the page to see Baker 2 with Spinel. His name was Joseph Cullen (a Baker), and he too had a Red Cross X drawn over his face/body.

They turned the page to see Baker 2 with Piella. His name was Wayne Scales (a Baker), and he too had a Red Cross X drawn over his face/body.

Sarah and Arturo noticed something familiar with each photo. Page after page showed pictures of Spinel with Bakers, Gilly Clarkson (3), Remy Denton (4), Jake Branson (5), Lou Gibson (6), Harvey Harrison (7), Nando Jensen (8), Scotty Fallon (9), Neddy Maddock (10), Huey Thompson (11) all crossed out Xs. They saw pictures of her with other Bakers. They all had a red X over them. But they saw 12 pics, it was Alex Parker. They are gasping and surprised. They are recognizing that Baker 12 was Alex Parker.

Gromit noticed something familiar with each photo. Page after page showed pictures of Piella with Bakers, Rich Teabiscuit (3), Basil Dumplings (4), Phil O'Pastry (5), Bread Astair (6), Quiche Richards (7), Crusty Rolls (8), Herb Bruschetta (9), Shorty Shortcrust (10), Brendan Butterpudding (11) all crossed out Xs. They saw pictures of her with other Bakers. They all had a red X over them. But they saw 12 pics, it was Baker Bob. They are gasping and surprised. They are recognizing that Baker 12 was Baker Bob.

Gromit recognized that Baker Bob saw the news of having murdered.

Sarah: It's Alex Parker.

Lewinn: It's Baker Bob.

Maren: Those were red Xs means two Females must've been the killers.

Sapphire: Those red Xs means two Females must've been the murderers.

Gromit turned the picture and next Baker was Wallace. They are very horrified and fearful.

They turned the picture and next Baker was Lionel. They are very horrified and fearful.

Sarah: Oh no!

Vera: She got to kill Wallace!

Arturo: She's going to kill Lionel!

Bart: !!!

Flash frame is Lightning Thunder frame 2 13 fashion dummies. They are shocked backward accident bumped knocked out all Fashions Dummies.

Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs are very shocked in fearful that 12 fashions and 12 dummies are knocked all down.

Lewinn: !!!

Landon: Oh no!

Sarah: Oh my God!

Arturo is shocked and frightened, and Gromit is shocked and fearful

Arturo: Oops.

They hear the doors open downstairs.

Sapphire: We need to hide!

Samantha: We gotta hide!

Laura: We’ll get the racks up as fast as we can.

Arturo: Better get back to stand up fast.

Later, Piella and Spinel enter their rooms and found the racks still intact.

Piella and Spinel turn the light on and found racks still standing.

Piella: Hm? Fun. I'm sure I heard something like that ... Oh, there it is. (closed her diary and found her purse) ?

Spinel: Huh? Funny. I’m sure I heard something. Oh, there it is. (closed her diary and found her wallet)

Piella: It must have been there all along. Early night, Fluffles? Big day tomorrow. Our final baker is nicely potted off.

Spinel: I'm really right. Early night, Judy? Big day tomorrow. Our final Baker is nicely potted out.

Piella and Spinel closed the mirror doors. Gromit and Arturo hung on a chandelier as the two went to bed, but Gangs have hidden the other closets not wanting to notice. Piella and Spinel, Fluffles, and Judy don’t know that Gromit and Arturo are hanging from the chandelier.

Gromit and Arturo hung on two chandeliers as the 4 went to beds.

Piella: Good night, Fluffles. Sweet dreams.

Spinel: Good night, Judy. Sweet dreams.

Fluffles and Judy are awake and frightened from mistreatment at the hands of her owner/mistress and her friend. They are feeling sorry for Fluffles and Judy.

The two went to sleep, however much later, Gromit and his friend fell off the chandelier and landed in Piella’s bed and Spinel's bed. Lucky for them, it was morning and Piella wasn’t in her room, Spinel wasn’t in her room. The rest of the Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs are frightened to open hidden closets. They are remembering Piella's and Spinel's words that Our final Bakers were Wallace and Lionel! They got Diaries and books to rush to Homes.

----

For @laurasanchez36

Crossovers of AUs Alternate Universes belongs to me

Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs belongs to my msa ocs sonas Teams/Groups/Gangs and Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs Bakers belongs to my new msa ocs sonas Teams/Groups/Gangs, The Greatest Bakers Mystery

Mystery Teams/Groups/Gangs belongs to her msa ocs sonas

Mystery Skulls Animated belongs to Ben and MysteryBen27

Wallace and Gromit belongs to Aardman Animations

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ikenbar · 2 years

Text

Mr. Love: Ike's Choice CH5 PT10

Alright people! We are one away from Chapter five being finished! This one was a super fun one to write. The fluff made me giggle like a school girl. Although, all good things come to an end! As you will see with this part in the series ',:) Stay tuned for mysteries finally being put together!!

Warnings: Not much besides the first bit of angst that we haven't had in a while!! Not to mention some ~Gayness~ so ya homophobes better watch out. (also get off my page you disgust me) Not to mention a cliffhanger that may cause you to beg for the next upload to come sooner >:P

(Chapter Five (Kiro and Youran) Prologue and part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine can be found here~)

((Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D))

(((And here is the Masterpost to the whole story for anyone who would like to dive into different parts of the adventure!!)))

Chapter Five:

Part Ten:

Gavin and I had spent the rest of that night at St. Richards, laughing together. I had introduced him to Hunter and, after a moment of inspection, Hunter had deemed him worthy of my time. Not that I needed it, but it was nice to see the smile that Gavin gave me after Hunter had said it. After I had told them both the story with Sam and Kiro, they were in stitches. That day had ended perfectly, and I got to watch it end as the sun rose through the window. Gavin walked me home and wished me goodnight at my door. Though it wasn’t out of his way, the thought of it was what made it perfect. So was the second kiss to the back of my hand that he had given me.

As I walked into my home and lay in my bed, sleep evaded me. All I could do was think about that day. Sam had woken up not too long after I had gotten to bed and we made breakfast together, enjoying each other’s presence and the good food as Sam kept the promise he had made me the night before. After breakfast, Bart had come to take Sam home. I walked him down to the parking lot and said our goodbyes.

That weekend had passed by in a flash and as soon as it had come, it had gone. I had returned to my work and was back to being the hardheaded boss I always was. Though, now it seemed more difficult to hold my usual poker face.

It was late as I sat at the desk in my office, looking through the plan I had just finished writing. There was a knock at my door. “Come in.” I said, keeping my eyes on my computer screen. The door creaked open slowly, as if the person behind the door was nervous to open it.

“Is the coast clear?” A hushed voice asked. I looked up and saw a head with a baseball cap and large sunglasses peering around the room.

“Excuse me?” I asked coldly, prepared for just about anything.

“Is the coast clear?” The head reiterated a bit louder. A suppressed smile seemed to be leaking from his pursed lips as he waited for me to play along with his little game.

“From what?” I asked, straightening my posture.

“From evil of course!” A familiar cheery voice came from the head as he looked at me, beaming. I rolled my eyes.

“You really think I’d work in an office with evil sitting with me?” I propped my head on my hand and arched an eyebrow.

“Good point!” The head said, opening the door further to reveal the rest of his body. He took off his hat and sunglasses and winked at me, “Heya, Super Stranger!”

“Hi, Kiro.” I hummed, turning back to my computer, “What can I help you with?”

“Well, I was just about to go to dinner with Youran when we realized, you should join us!”

“Youran?” I snapped my head back to Kiro. As I did so, music tickled the air. I looked behind Kiro and saw Youran holding a small music box in her hands. One I had kept on a shelf on display. I stood up and made my way over to her. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she listened to the tinkling melody of the music box.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked softly. Youran jumped; the box slipped from her hands. I swiftly caught it and grabbed Youran around the waist.

“I’m sorry I startled you.” I chuckled, steadying Youran as I spoke, “Are you alright?” Youran’s cheeks flushed as she nodded and stood up straight. I kept my hand around her waist for a moment, then removed it when I felt she was really ok.

“S-sorry!” She mumbled, “I didn’t mean to play it. I was just-”

“Don’t worry about it.” I smiled softly. I turned the key to the music box and let the melody play again, “Music is meant to be heard.” Youran’s once flustered state calmed as she listened to the song again. Her shoulders eased as she watched the box.

“What…” Her voice seemed far away, wading like the music after each note was played, “... What is this song?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember.” My eyes drifted to the music box as well, “I’ve known it all my life but I could never figure out the source. The song always seemed to comfort me when I was stressed so, when I was fifteen, Maria had given this music box to me that played the melody. So I’d always find a way to be… be calm.” The melody ended, washing the room in complete silence. I cleared my throat and placed the music box back on the shelf, “So, what is this about dinner?” I turned to Kiro. He was watching us, leaning back on the table and arms folded. But, his face wasn’t holding his normal brightness. It was cold. Ice cold. His eyes were sullen and his lips were pressed tightly together.

When our eyes met though, he quickly straightened and smiled brightly. “Sorry!” Kiro laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Got lost in thought.” He laughed. I kept my eyes trained on him. That wasn’t right. Who looks like that when they stare off into space? A warmth spread across my arm. I looked down and saw a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and caught Youran’s eyes. She smiled at me kindly.

“Is everything ok?” She asked this like nothing had happened. I slowly nodded and looked down. I was holding my arm in front of Youran, protectively. I quickly lowered it and coughed to cover a rising blush.

“So, Super Stranger!” Kiro made his way over to me and slung an arm over my shoulder, “How do you feel about Hot Pot?”

>>>

We all settled in our seats as our waitress left to get us water. Youran bounced happily in her chair. “I have been craving hot pot for the longest time!” She drooled, deeply breathing in the savory smells that filled the air, “I haven’t had the chance to go because of work!”

“Same, Miss. Chips.” Kiro joined her in savoring the smells, “I’m starving!”

“Well I guess we will have to start a conversation before you end up eating one of us.” I folded my arms and leaned on the table, directing my eyes at Kiro, “So, why do you call Youran, Miss. Chips?” Kiro smiled widely.

“Oh yeah! That’s a good story!” Kiro repositioned himself in his seat, “So there I was, looking for a bag of chips. But not any kind of chips, oh no no! A special kind that had collector edition batman cards in it!!” I placed my head in the palm of my hand, listening intently, “When I had found it, there was only one left! So I went to grab it but another hand stopped me!” I looked over to Youran with a smirk. My smirk fell. Youran was smiling widely and her eyes sparkled with adoration as she watched Kiro. The way she smiled was so familiar… and captivating.

"Long story short," Kiro continued giddily, pulling me out of my head and my attention back to him, "she gave me the cards and it was the one that completed my collection! So I started calling her Miss. Chips because of it!"

"Cute." I said somewhat sarcastically as the waitress came with our drinks, "You guys seem close."

"We are!" Kiro flung his arms around Youran from across the table, making her already big eyes grow wide, "Practically inseparable! Especially after what happened in that basement!" I choked on my drink.

"Excuse me?!" I spluttered.

"Yeah!" Kiro answered almost nonchalantly, "Miss. Chips and I were at the hackers summit when-"

"You're a hacker?!" I snapped my head to Youran. She waved her hands frantically.

"No! No!" She squealed, "I was just reporting on a story!"

"Yeah! And I found her there! And she found out I'm," Kiro leaned in close and whispered, "Key."

"Right." I pushed his head from me, keeping my eyes bolted on Youran, "So, what happened exactly?"

"Well," Youran almost whispered, "There was a bomb."

"A whAT?!" Panic flooded my chest.

"We're fine!" Kiro quickly said, smiling reassuringly, "But, while we were running, we tripped into this basement! It had three rooms that… had… death traps- actually…" Kiro paused, face becoming grim, "... the basement kinda reminds me a lot of what we had fallen into, Ike." My breath hitched. Images rearose in my mind from that strange computer. They flashed by quickly but the one picture of the little brown haired girl on an experiment table lingered.

"What exactly happened?" My tone had unintentionally become dour. The air had suddenly become stiff.

"Well," Youran begun, "there were three secret rooms we had to get through. Each one harder to defeat then the last."

"They were targeted towards us specifically." Kiro gave me a knowing look. I clenched my hands under the table.

"Then," Youran's voice was soft. Her eyes were looking at the table but they seemed a thousand yards away, "Then there was this text. And… pictures." My heart stopped, "Pictures I don't remember… but-"

"Seem familiar to you." I finished. Youran looked up at me, locking our eyes.

"Yeah!" She said, shocked, "How did you-"

“Here we are!” A team of waiters brought over the ingredients for our hot pot. I leaned back in my chair and let them scramble the ingredients around the table. Kiro and Youran’s faces lit up as they immediately started digging in, dropping the subject at hand. I hadn’t quite gotten there yet.

I slowly picked up the chopsticks by my side as my mind raced to make sense of what I had heard. Youran saw the pictures too? Had she seen the same ones I had? And the text, was it the same? Was it black swan? It had to be. What other person was making a three tiered death trap, targeted to us specifically? Why was Kiro with her? What did he have to do with any of this? A picture came to my mind from the computer.

A picture of the brown haired girl laying next to a bright blond haired boy.

The boy’s eyes…

I dropped my chopsticks.

Kiro was in those pictures too. That would mean…

“Stranger?” Kiro’s voice sounded far away, “Are you ok?” I nodded slowly, unable to speak. I looked up at Kiro. Images overlapped in my mind. Not just ones from the computer, but ones from the most forgotten part of my mind. Images of a bright eyed boy, reaching out a hand to pick me up, making me a flower crown, smiling the world's most dazzling smile…

I stood up quickly from my chair. Kiro looked at me with worry. “Is everything alright?” He stood with me, reaching out a hand. I backed up slightly, mind still racing. If Kiro was there, then he was an evolver too. What was his evol? Could he have been using it on me without me knowing? Keeping me tied around his little finger? Is he a member of-

I felt a tug from my left side. I snapped my head down and locked eyes with Youran. She held my hand, worry filled her eyes. “Ike.” The moment she said my name, I felt my body relax, “What’s-”

“I-... I’m ok.” I cut Youran off, looking away from her and holding my head, “Sorry, I… lost my cool.”

“What happened?” Kiro came to my side, touching my arm. I jumped at his touch, but soon settled into it. No matter who he was, he was still Kiro. He was still the man who fought so hard just to make me happy and spent the best day of my life with me and my brother. His past may not be as innocent as I’d like to think, but he was still Kiro. He was my SongBird…

He was my friend.

I looked up at Kiro and met his eyes, “Sorry.” I said earnestly, patting his hand, “I.. I don’t.. S-sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” Kiro chuckled, smiling reassuringly, “Are you ok now?”

“I…” My mind still spun with questions and emotions, “... I’m going to need a minute. Excuse me.” I shook Youran’s hand out of mine and walked to the bathroom, ignoring the holes the Kiro and Youran bore into my back with their eyes.

Once I got to the restroom, I slumped over the sink and looked up at the mirror. I looked like a wreck. Worry wrinkles creased my skin, my hair was a frizzy mess, and bags sat prominently under my eyes… my blue eyes…

I grimmised as another wave of images crashed into my mind, stronger then it had before, but these images were new. Those of a small blond haired boy playing soccer with me, a raven haired boy feeding me a spoon full of pudding, a small child laying lifeless in the middle of a street, a teenager flying in the air, a little brown haired girl sitting under a sycamore tree.

I groaned and held my head, feeling a pulsing in my temples as I knelt to the ground. Why was this happening?! What did Black Swan have to do with those images? Who was the Qu-...

The images stopped spinning in my head, landing only on one. That young, bright brown haired girl, reaching out a hand to me. Smiling.

Youran

… Youran was the queen.

I didn’t know why that truth was so clear to me but, it was. She was the queen. She had to be. But what did being the queen mean? And why were those images only shown to the two of us? What did any of this have to do with me?

I stood up shakily from the ground. Chuching my head as I steadied my self in front of the sink. I turned on the water and splashed it on my face. This was all insane. First Montu and now this?! I sighed and looked in the mirror. My breath hitched as shock filled my chest. I was in the mirror. I looked the same as I did before. Worry wrinkles, messy hair, bags under my eyes and all.

Except the color of my eyes had changed to a crimson red.

I quickly stumbled away from the mirror. The image of the broken lab and a little girl standing over Youran came to my mind. That little girl with the bushy brown hair and the monstrous red eyes...

she was protecting her…

I was protecting her.

I-... I was the Rook.

My protective feelings toward Youran, her ability to calm me with one touch, to look at me and instantly make me feel peace, that must have been the power she held as the Queen. She needed protection and, of course, an Evolver with super strength would do just that. She had to have been planning this the whole-...

Except.. she couldn’t. When she talked about the images, she said she didn't remember them. That they only seemed familiar to her. Like they did to me. Was she also struggling with these headaches? Would she tell me if she was?... did she feel the same closeness as I did? Did she feel that same pull, that same ease in her heart, when I spoke?

My blazer pocket buzzed. I shook my head slowly and shakily pulled out my phone. It was a text from Youran.

Are you feeling any better? Do you need anything?

I paused, a calm drifting through my beating heart.

She was worried.

I breathed deeply, then looked back at the mirror. My eyes had returned to normal. A thought came to mind. One that could solve everything…

But it would cost more than I'd like to give.

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

Text

Bloody Valentines

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Young Justice 98, Titans, GL Corps, Legion of Super Heroes, Flashfam, New Gods, Shadowpact

Summary: 90s vampire slasher AU

Chapters: 7/?

Characters: Dick Grayson, Joseph Wilson, Jason Todd, Charley Parker, Zatanna, Eddie Bloomberg, Daniel Cassidy, Chester Williams DC, Guy Gardner, Kyle Rayner, Lilith Clay, Raven Roth, Kole Weathers, Bette Kane, Donna Troy, Roy Harper, Jenni Ognats, Bart Allen, Virgil Hawkins, Richie Foley, Ayla Ranzz, Zoe Saugin, Rol Purtha, Darla Aquista, Lori Zechlin, Hal Jordan, Helen Jordan II, Orion DC, Lightray DC

Relationships: DickJoey, Daniel Cassidy/Zatanna, DonnaRoy, Jenni Ognats/Virgil Hawkins, Raven/Lilith Clay

Additional Tags: POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator(s), Vampires, No Capes AU, 90s Slasher AU, Homoeroticism, Horror, Slasher

Chapter Seven: The Hitchers (Rol Purtha's POV)

I held onto a piece of wood from the wreckage, drifting toward a light in the distance. I retched as the ice-cold Atlantic waters surrounded me. As I neared the light, it flashed over me, warming my body. The stars fell from the sky and danced around me like a fairy light menagerie. Then, I saw the source of the flashing light, spinning slowly, brighter than sunlight itself, only appearing to disappear. The lighthouse. And finally, something hitched my shirt in the water, pulling me under. I didn’t fight. I was paralyzed by fear and exhaustion, unable to struggle against the force.

I woke up dripping wet with perspiration… As I’d done for the past twelve nights. I shook violently as the ambient noise of my fan returned to my ears despite the violent ba-booming of my heart. I didn’t know how to make it stop until I saw the lighthouse on a postcard. Long story short, I took a ferry and the bus to get to a place of nightmares. I had no choice. I don’t think the nightmares would’ve stopped had I stayed away.

The ferry was almost vacant, save for two girls who seemed like sisters sitting on opposite sides. I sat behind the less intimidating of the two, and she sat on her feet and turned to face me. “Happy Harbor?” she questioned as she offered me a cookie. I respectfully declined her offer.

“Uh-huh,” I answered, “I’m gonna set up camp near the lighthouse.” I patted my rucksack.

“I wanted to rent a cabin, but I think they’re all booked for the weekend, so I’m camping out that way,” she replied. She extended a hand to me. “I’m Laura. Laura Fell.”

“Roland Purtha. My friends call me Rolly or Rol,” I replied. I shook her hand.

“Maybe I can set up camp nearby… Unless you’re doing a soul-searching thing,” Laura suggested. I shook my head.

“It’ll be nice to have the company… Your sister setting up camp, too?” I asked, gesturing toward the other girl on the ferry.

“Oh… No, we’re not sisters. I actually haven’t met her yet… Hey! What’s your name? Are you going to Happy Harbor, too?” Laura asked loudly. The other girl turned toward us.

“Yeah, I’m writing about the crap that went down there in my zine,” she replied as she walked toward us and handed us a copy of a handmade blood-splatter-designed zine on deliberately dogged and chewed-up paper. It was laminated with a matte finish. The inside pages were thin, rough, and as chewed-up as its exterior. Un-glossed. Some pages were black with white lettering, some were white with black lettering, and others used magazine letters instead of handwriting or typed words. She wrote horror stories. Murder stories. Ghost stories.

“This is a horror zine,” Laura noted.

“Mhm. Call me Black Alice or Alice. Horror enthusiast,” she introduced herself.

“What happened on the harbor? Was it at the lighthouse?” I asked. I sounded more urgent than I wanted to. Alice’s eyes widened.

“That’s the thing. A massive amount of people disappear from the harbor every few decades. In the seventies, a camp cook chopped up a bunch of teenagers. Each one bled dry before they were dismembered. He was found dead, holding his son’s silver cross in one burned hand… His suicide note contained only one sentence: I am not a monster. In the forties, families built neighborhoods there. In one single night, all the adults drowned. None of the children remembered the events of that night, but they all said the last thing they remembered was a song lulling them to sleep. All separate homes… But the same lullaby-.”

“Yikes,” Laura whispered.

“Anything about the lighthouse?” I asked.

“Um… Let me check,” Alice whispered. She pulled a journal out of her bag and read through the most recent pages. It was eerily silent for several minutes. “Mhm… Actually, that’s probably the safest spot you can be at. That’s where they always find the survivors. In the seventies, they found a handful of kids holed up in the lighthouse… Scratch marks on the door, but no one could get in.”

“These would make for killer campfire stories,” Laura whispered, “Alice, do you have a cabin, or are you camping out like us? My tent has enough room for two, and Rol said I could set up camp by him.”

“Oh, we never told you our names. I’m Rol Purtha, and this is Laura Fell,” I introduced us. We shook her hands. They were cold, but not shockingly so.

“I’m setting camp, and it’d be great if you guys were nearby. I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t believe something awful is coming,” Alice confessed. I should’ve been scared, but I wasn’t. Something about the lighthouse frightened me more than the stories. I fell asleep sometime after that.

I dreamt of the water, but things were different. I sat in a rowboat as I washed up gently on the shore. The sky was a deep, reddish purple. It was warm, so I stuck my hand in the water. It was shockingly hot. I pulled my hand up, wrapping it in my sweater. I glanced down and gasped at the wet crimson as it soaked straight through the knitted cotton fabric of my cardigan. I fell out of the boat and woke up struggling for air. "Rol?" Laura whispered. She looked green around the gills. "Your nose is gushing blood."

Alice took a napkin from her bag, and I held it to my nose. “Thank you… That’s not-. This is embarrassing. I’ve been having these nightmares-.”

“Do you mind if I interview you about your nightmares after we set up camp?” Alice interrupted. I shook my head. I desperately wanted to explain my nightmares to someone, but it wouldn’t have made logical sense. Alice seemed like she’d look beyond logic if she noticed a pattern.

The ferry docked, and we got off and took the bus as far as it would take us. My nose had stopped bleeding, and I unfolded the map in my pocket. “How many miles are we from the beach?” Alice asked, adjusting the brim of her hat to hide her face.

“Eight miles-.”

“Let’s hitch it,” Alice suggested.

“Cool,” Laura smiled.

I wanted to argue with them, but eight miles seemed far. Alice stuck out her thumb as we walked along the side of the road, and a truck pulled over. “Headed to Happy Harbor?” the man yelled out the window. We nodded. “You three should be able to fit in the back.” We nodded and sat in the rear-facing seats. When we sat down, a little girl turned around and greeted us.

“Be careful,” she warned as she pointed to Laura. The man nudged the little girl. “You should put your seatbelt on.”

Laura edged closer to me, and we touched hands. Hers were ice cold. She recoiled and scooted closer to Alice. Alice stared at me with concern for my safety. The man drove for a short while and stopped at a grocery store. We all got out and picked up food for the trip. I bought a cooler and ice to hold the meat for breakfast. "I'll cook if you guys want," I offered.

I felt a tug at the bottom of my shirt. “Hey, Mister?” the little girl whispered.

“You can call me Rolly. What’s your name?” I asked. I took a knee, and she shook my hand.

“Helen… Rolly, don’t be afraid of the lighthouse,” Helen whispered. My breath caught as I looked at her serious little expression. “We’re taking the tour. Right, Uncle Hal?”

The man looked up from his magazine and grinned at her before frowning at something outside. “That’s right, Helen… And we better get going, because it looks like a storm’s coming,” Hal whispered, “Come on. Round up your friends, okay?”

I obeyed and we paid for our things, but the rain started soon after we got in the car. It poured and the roads were barely visible in the downpour. Hal didn’t seem concerned, though. He drove calmly through the storm while Helen fiddled with the radio. As we neared the campsite, Hal hit his brakes hard, and we collided with something. Everyone gasped and Hal got out of the car. I unbuckled my seatbelt and followed him. “I hit a coyote… He came out of nowhere!” Hal shouted. And that was the last thing I remember.

#fic #bloody valentines fic #Rol Purtha #Darla Aquista #Lori Zechlin #Hal Jordan #Helen Jordan II #losh #shadowpact #Dream boy #POV First Person #Unreliable Narrator(s)#Vampires #No Capes AU #90s Slasher AU #Homoeroticism #Horror #Slasher

0 notes

monstermaster13 · 5 months

Text

TftW: Life As A Sophisticated Criminal.

Once upon a time in the small town of Springfield, there lived an ordinary man named Robert Thompson. Robert was a mild-mannered individual with a passion for literature and classical music. He worked as a librarian, spending his days surrounded by books and helping others discover the joys of reading.

One fateful day, as Robert was shelving books in the library, he stumbled upon an ancient and mysterious tome hidden behind dusty volumes. The book, titled "The Carnival of Curiosities," seemed to beckon him with its faded cover and enigmatic aura. Unable to resist the allure of the unknown, Robert opened the book, unknowingly unlocking a strange and magical power that would change his life forever.

As he turned the pages, Robert felt a surge of energy coursing through his veins. The room began to spin, and a blinding light enveloped him as he heard the charismatic voice of Sideshow Bob in his head guiding him, Bob was offering to use him as a means to carry out a plan to reconcile with Bart after everything he had done and he knew what to do.

Bob’s spirit guided him from within and influenced him slightly, in term increasing Robert’s intelligence and also giving him some of his traits, of the course of a couple of hours Bob was fully able to take advantage of this, and this grew into altering him further as it made his body elongate and become quite lithe.

In addition it slowly turned his skin yellow and his clothing slowly turned into an elegant suit while his height increased and his hair slowly spiked up into a palm tree style and turned a deep shade of red, taking on the appearance of Bob himself while his voice deepened and gained a regal and mature tone that belonged to none other than Kelsey Grammer, he was very much like Bob in terms of his appearance and voice but he was still himself.

It’s just now Bob’s spirit was sharing a body with him, and so Robert as Bob went to go and reconcile with Bart and the rest of The Simpsons family for everything Bob had done.

And of course he was accepted, of course the story continues from here, with Bob’s spirit remaining with him and helping him, helping him do things he needed to do and to help others in the process.

0 notes

l0vegl0wsinthedark · 3 years

Note

for the prompt:

"there's no need to grope me every time, Malfoy"

❤🖤❤

"I'm telling you, nothing works."

"I am about 86.5% sure that he paid a Healer to fiddle around with his brain."

"I imagine he'd look like that even when his mum's about to die or something."

"Or when he wanks."

Everyone collectively stared at Harry who in turn was steadily turning purple and pretended like he hadn't just said that out loud.

"You all do realise that he probably underwent months of training to perfect that poker face?" Hermione said calmly, stirring her cocktail with the cherry on a stick and turning a page on her latest case file.

"Hermione, we know nearly every other Unspeakable on Level Nine," said Ron. "They smile when greeted, Hermione. They talk like a normal person. They display emotions, albeit in a restrained manner."

"You know the word albeit?" said Seamus.

"Fuck off, Finnigan."

"Look, look! He's getting up!"

"Don't you men realise how sad it is that you spend your time off staring at Draco Malfoy?"

"No," said the men.

"I swear to Merlin," said Ron, slightly hoarse on his fourth beer now. "I'll drop trou and flash my new underwear at the whole pub if one of you manages to get a reaction of any sort from that pointy ponce."

"Challenge accepted," said Harry, getting to his feet and downing the last of his beer.

"Harry, don't," said Hermione, exasperated.

"Do it!" said Dean, delighted.

"Harry, just sit back down," Hermione actually slapped her file shut, her cheeks pink.

Ron abruptly hooted. "That's right. Hermione made these underpants for me."

"Gotta go," said Harry, and with a lot more confidence than he actually felt he had, he strode over to the bar.

Malfoy had taken off his uniform but he still looked sharp and professional in his formals, cuffs buttoned, tie still immaculate.

"Malfoy," said Harry pleasantly, hunching over the bar standing very close to Malfoy. "Surprised to see you here."

Malfoy turned his head a fraction and regarded him with absolutely no expression.

"We both have been visiting this pub for around seven years now," he said.

Harry just grinned, feeling like an idiot. Malfoy was very handsome and Harry was an idiot.

"Yeah," he said. "So, what are you drinking? On me."

"That won't be necessary, Potter."

Malfoy didn't smile or alter his toneless manner of talking but still managed to sound pleasant as he dismissed Harry.

"No no, I insist." And then, "BART! OVER HERE!"

Malfoy hadn't even flinched as Harry bellowed to the barkeep. Every other person in the pub was staring at him.

"God, what's with you tonight?" said Bart. "What can I get you two?"

"Another pint for me and Malfoy's phone number if he's giving it out," said Harry. Yeah, he was definitely a bit pissed.

Bart and Malfoy both blinked at him in silence.

"What," said Bart.

"Why would Bartholomew be giving out my phone number?" said Malfoy.

"Right," said Bart before wandering away.

"That was merely a clever way to ask you for your number, Malfoy."

"It wasn't clever at all, Potter." When Harry's grin slowly slipped off, he added, "Sorry."

He made an odd guffawing sound. "Not everyone is as clever as you, Malfoy," he said, and then gave him what Harry thought was a very charming wink.

"That's true," said Malfoy somberly.

Harry fidgeted and glanced over his shoulder he saw Ron, Seamus and Dean clutching at one another, heaving with laughter. Hermione looked very stern.

"So, you never said what you'd like to drink."

"I didn't, did I?"

Bart came back with Harry's beer.

"You want another usual?" Bart asked Malfoy.

"What's the usual?" Harry asked at once. Bart looked from Malfoy to Harry. "Some fancy secret cocktail?"

"Are you always this intrusive?"

"He must fancy you," said Bart. "He doesn't offer to buy people drinks, this one."

Malfoy had to blush at that, thought Harry as his face went up in flames yet again.

But Malfoy's face remained like blank parchment. "How flattering."

Harry sighed. Well, he'd tried. Maybe he'll coax Hermione later to tell him what she found so embarrassing about the underpants she made for Ron.

Mortifyingly, he gave Malfoy a friendly punch on the shoulder. Then, in the process of hurrying away with his beer, he fumbled and the bottle slipped out of his hand.

Malfoy and he reacted simultaneously, making a grab for the bottle. Harry caught it by the neck with his left hand.

Malfoy's hand landed on Harry's crotch.

Frozen, they both stared down at Malfoy's hand, his palm pressed to Harry's flies.

And then it happened.

Malfoy went wonderfully, beautifully pink in the face, lips turning inwards.

Delighted beyond words, Harry opened his throat and hollered, "THERE'S NO NEED TO GROPE ME, MALFOY. I'LL GO TO DINNER WITH YOU."

The whole pub went completely still and silent. Malfoy looked like he was about to explode.

Beaming, Harry turned to his table - every one of them was stunned.

Then Ron was jumping to his feet, climbing atop the table and dramatically saluting Harry before undoing his flies and pulling his trousers down.

Crookshanks' squashed face, replicated a dozen times over a pink background, blinked around from Ron's underwear.

The pub roared with laughter. Hermione looked like she might faint. Ron was turning around on the spot, arms held out.

"You fucking bastard," said Malfoy, looking furious. "What the fuck?"

"Sorry, it was for a bet," said Harry, unable to stop grinning. "Hey, Malfoy?"

"What?" spat Malfoy.

"You can take you hand off my cock now, you know?"

#drarry #my writing #p.s. Draco's usual is butterbeer

438 notes · View notes

biromanticbooknook · 3 years

Text

My Most Ambitious Crossover

I got bored by posting only my second gen Amazon AU, so I’ll get back to that tomorrow, but enjoy this one-shot about Chloe and Marinette creating their own trip instead of their class trip in the meantime. Can’t have you all thinking I’m a one-trick pony, can I?

“-and that’s why we think you shouldn’t go on the trip this year.” Mlle. Bustier tried to look apologetic, but it was as much her idea as the students. Between Marinette refusing to set an example and Chloe associating with her, neither of them deserved to go.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid I would have to get my daddy to donate 30% of the funds like he does every year.”

“I’m just glad I don’t have to take 60% of the trip funds out of my commission profits. That will give me a much bigger budget for fabric and accessories.” Everyone blanched at the statements of the 2 girls. They were saying that they paid for 90% of the trip every year, but that couldn’t be right. They worked so hard on fundraisers every year, they must be lying about how much they contribute.

Marinette just ignored them, turning to her seatmate. “Do you think that our other friends would want to go on a trip with us? Most classes take their trips during May, so we could leave at the beginning of June and take the entire summer.”

“Nice thinking, Maribug. With fewer people, prices go down and we can afford more bang for our buck.” They walk out of the classroom, discussing who to ask and when.

The class just made a big mistake.

-----

By the time the weekend rolled around, Marinette and Chloe had their group list finalized. The people going on their trip were themselves, Luka, Kagami, Aurore, Mireille, and Marc. They got together and started brainstorming fundraisers.

Marinette started. “There are the given examples; you know, car wash, bake sale, raffle. What else?”

“We could host a show.” Luka suggested.

“Like an exhibition?” Marinette asked. “We could have you perform, Kagami do a fencing demonstration, and I could do a small fashion show, using Chloe and Marc as models. Aurore and Mireille could be our MCs.”

“To capitalize on money-making, we could sell tickets, food and drink, and merch for Luka’s solo career as well as commission spots for our resident designer.”

“That’s good.” Marinette starts scribbling in the shared notebook.

“At Le Grande Paris, we could host parties. I know days when the grand ballroom is open. We could host an auction, sell lessons and creations and stuff. We could also host a masquerade ball that we sell tickets for. We could charge for food and drink. The pools are open for private reservation quite often, we could have parties there too.” Chloe takes the notebook and starts writing down her ideas, mapping out all the resources needed while muttering.

“We could also host a carnival or a gaming tournament in the ballroom.” Kagami looked thoughtful. “I’ve never actually been to one.”

Chloe added that to the list. “Should we do anything else?”

“We could start a go-fund-me. Artists and writers do it all the time to get their creations off the ground.” Marc murmured.

“That would be great. What’s our goal for this entire endeavor?”

“Our goal, Maribug, is €45,000. That should cover travel, boarding, tours, food, and souvenirs. Whatever we don’t spend gets redistributed to the group.” Chloe supplies.

“Then that should be it. Nice job, guys!”

“My, what a whirlwind of a planning session. I hope nothing rains on our parade. I wonder weather Mlle. Bustier’s class is doing this well.” Aurore beams at them.

“Mm-hmm.” Mireille agrees with Aurore.

“Probably not. Our classmates couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. They’ll just listen to Lila that the boot will empty by itself through the toe because ‘I worked on patenting this boot’, then they’ll get mad at the boot for not doing it.” Chloe chuckles dryly.

“Be nice.” Marinette reprimands half-heartedly.

-----

Chloe immediately filed the paperwork with the school board so they could go on their trip with no safety or legal concerns. She recruited Mme. Mendeleiev and M. D'Argencourt to be their chaperones, who were more than happy to go on an all-expenses-paid trip to Los Angeles, Star City, Central City, Metropolis, Gotham, New York City, and Tokyo.

They had their first fundraiser at the end of September, a pool party at Le Grande Paris. Even Mlle. Bustier’s class attended, though they didn’t know who had set it up, only that Luka was performing. They hadn’t even started their planning yet. The group made €3,041.

The next was a car wash in the middle of October. It was cool enough for a car wash to be pleasant while being warm enough that everyone was still out and about. They earned €2,632. Bustier's class was getting ice cream and listening to Lila brag.

They then had an All Hallow’s Eve bake sale, complete with candy decoration reminiscent of the American holiday. They earned €1,800.

During November, they held a carnival, with a full fall theme. It was wildly popular with families from all over Paris, earning them €6,483. It was around this time that Mlle. Bustier’s class held a bake sale, and earned €1,594. They celebrated.

Throughout the holiday season, they took advantage of peoples’ spirit. They held a raffle throughout the 12 Days of Christmas, while also holding a bake sale the day before winter break. Overall, they earned €10,749.

Over winter break, Chloe bought plane tickets and reserved tours and hotels, so all that was left was to get money for the tours and food. They were over halfway to their goal.

During January, they rented a theater, and held their exhibition. They had a crowd of fencing enthusiasts, rock music lovers, and fashion followers. They made €5,830.

They held a date auction and a masquerade to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was amazing, and they earned €7,284.

They had checked their go-fund-me, and had found that €10,000 was there, putting them €2,819 over their goal. They were ecstatic!

They still held the gaming tournament at the end of April, but let it be free for everyone to enjoy as their celebration of reaching their goal.

-----

Mlle. Butsier’s class had made €7,000 over their 3 fundraisers, and they were pretty proud of themselves. No doubt they would be going somewhere much better than whatever Maribrat and Chloe have planned. Once the girls walked into the classroom, the class started to brag.

“We’ve finished fundraising!”

Marinette smiled and decided to be nice to them. “Cool. Where are you going?”

“We are going to New York City.”

Chloe was not as kind. “Oh, so are we! It was so hard to raise the €45,000 needed for our trip, but we did it. It was so euphoric to meet our goal. How much did you guys raise?”

“We made €7,000.” The smiles slowly slipped off the faces of the class. “What do you mean the €45,000 needed?”

“Well, we needed to cover food, travel, boarding, and tours, and that was just for the 7 of us. I can’t imagine what the budget would’ve been like for an entire class.” Her smile got an edge, like a lioness who knew she had cornered her prey.

Her classmates blanched. “What was our budget, Alya?” Rose looked towards their new class representative, hoping that she had an answer.

“We never had one.”

“Well, at least you filed the paperwork right?”

“What paperwork?”

Marinette responded this time. “The paperwork needed to go on a trip. You were supposed to submit it to the school board for approval of safety and legality. It was on page 17 of the packet I gave you at the beginning of the year. Didn’t you read it, Alya?”

“I-I-no. Lila said that was just extra work that you had given me to throw me off my game. She said you didn’t actually need to do all of that.”

“I didn’t know that Lila had more experience being a class representative than me and Marinette, the only 2 people who have ever been class representative here.” Chloe’s voice became as sharp and sweet as her smile. “Well, have fun with your trip. Marinette and I have to do last-minute checks on our arrangements.”

The class looked at the people that had carried them the previous years, and realized how much they relied on the girls. Lila was cursing herself for pushing away the only people who actually did anything in this class.

-----

The class ended up going to Disneyland Paris, and tried their best to look as upbeat as possible on their social medias. Meanwhile, The group was having the time of their lives.

They stayed in LA for 2 weeks, visiting movie sets and meeting actors. They spent another week just going on everything at Disneyland and California Adventure.

They then spent a week in Star City, touring Queen Industries and having a meet and greet with Oliver Queen and his ward, Roy Harper, who seemed to enjoy Aurore’s outgoing personality. They even saw the vigilantes.

They spent another 2 weeks in Central City, touring STAR Labs and watching the rogues try to fight the Flash family. It was the most meta-filled city in the world, and They toured a forensics lab with Bart Allen. Chloe seemed grimly pleased with seeing the bodies. She might’ve been projecting certain people onto them, not that she would ever admit it.

2 weeks in Metropolis was really fun. They toured the Daily Planet with Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Mireille was amazed by what you could do to report without having to be in front of a screen. They made a scavenger hunt of how many Supers they could find, and they found 2 different superboys. Lex Corp also gave them a tour, although it was more professional than the tour of the Daily Planet.

They spent 1 week in Gotham. They toured Wayne Enterprises and stayed out of the Bats’ way. Luka got the phone number of Tim Drake. Marinette enjoyed the inspiration that the gothic architecture brought her. There wasn’t much of a nightlife scene, considering only fools stay out after dark in Gotham.

Their 1 week in New York City was hectic. The Avengers were all at the tower when they were touring with Pepper Potts by Chloe’s request. Chloe might’ve been unofficially adopted by Tony Stark when she stood up to them and made them ‘cease their bullshit’. The Black Widow also took a liking to the girl. They also ran into these weird teens muttering about monsters when they were waiting for the elevator at the Empire State Building.

2 weeks in Tokyo. Their last stop. They visited the prestigious Ouran Academy, the host club getting Marc to come out of their shell by constantly helping boost his self-esteem. Chloe enjoyed talking business and finances with Kyoya Ootori. Kagami led them all in a traditional tea ceremony, before they all stormed the streets to try the unfamiliar street food.

Marinette ended up being unofficially adopted by 3 heroes, 2 rogues, and 5 billionaires. She was happy getting to spend 7 weeks on the road with only her closest friends.

The class was incredibly jealous of the trip their classmates took. They hoped next year they could go on a trip like that as well, but they had missed their shot.

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purplehairedwonder · 2 years

Text

Lead Me Back to Suffering Chapter 11

Fandom: One Piece Rating: R Pairings: Trafalgar Law/Donquixote Doflamingo (Non-consensual), Trafalgar Law/Monkey D. Luffy (eventual) Words: 5,135 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey. D Luffy, Donquixote Doflamingo, Bepo, Nico Robin, Chopper, Penguin, Shachi, Clione, Usopp, Franky, Jean Bart Warnings: Rape/Non-con, suicide attempt Note: This was written for the “Kidnapping” square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo @badthingshappenbingo card. Anon prompted Law and Luffy.

The title comes from the Vertical Horizon song “Shackled.”

Summary: In the wake of Kaido’s fall, Law is kidnapped from the shores of Wano.

Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Read also at AO3

Law lay in his bed, reading a book since, like most nights, insomnia was keeping him awake. Law had come to appreciate these late nights; usually, the Polar Tang, was raucous, bursting with the activity of such a large crew, but at night, the ship calmed down as most of the crew slept. Law loved his band of idiots, but he also relished the quiet. If he was going to be wide awake in the middle of the night anyway, he might as well enjoy it.

He turned the page, but his breath hitched as he felt a hand between his legs sliding slowly up his thighs. The book was suddenly pulled from his hands, revealing Luffy popping out from the sheets between Law’s legs with a mischievous smile playing at his lips. He tossed the book across Law’s room.

“Toraooooo,” he said in a singsong.

“Straw Hat-ya—” Law started, preparing to shake the other captain off.

Luffy cut him off by pushing Law back into the mattress. Law let out a huff of surprise that quickly turned into a groan as Luffy started pressing kisses against the insides of Law’s thighs, moving higher.

Or they could see where this went.

Luffy met Law’s eyes and smirked as he purposefully bypassed Law’s hardening dick to start working up Law’s stomach.

“Tease,” Law said, slightly breathless.

He felt Luffy smile against his skin as he trailed kisses up Law’s abdomen. Law reached for Luffy, his hand combing through Luffy’s messy hair, and Luffy hummed in pleasure before he took Law’s wrist and kissed the palm of his hand. It was sweet, intimate, and not something Law had a lot of familiarity with.

Law inhaled in surprise as Luffy suddenly grabbed Law’s other wrist and pinned them both to the mattress above Law’s head.

“Keep them there,” Luffy said, voice low, as he nibbled at Law’s earlobe.

A jolt of arousal went right to Law’s cock at that, and he nodded mutely, not trusting his voice. Law’s eyes slid closed as Luffy continued working down Law’s neck and down his chest.

“So good for me, Torao.”

Law’s breathing picked up as Luffy traced Law’s tattoos with his tongue, and his hips started bucking upward, looking for some friction for his now-hard cock. Luffy chuckled against Law’s stomach before pushing Law’s thighs wider open. When Luffy’s hand found Law’s cock, Law gasped, and his eyes flew open—

To find Doflamingo straddling him.

“There he is,” Doflamingo said, grinning.

Doflamingo chuckled as Law tried to jerk away but couldn’t move. Panicked, Law looked up to see his wrists bound with string to the bedposts above his head. He looked frantically around, and his stomach sank as he realized he was still on Doflamingo’s ship, just as he had been for the last three months.

“You looked so tempting while you were asleep,” Doflamingo said, stroking Law’s cheek. “I just couldn’t control myself.”

It had just been a dream.

The tension leeched from Law’s body as the memories came back, and he went still beneath Doflamingo in resignation.

“Dreaming of better company?”

As Law’s eyes snapped up to Doflamingo, his face warmed with the memory of what—who—he’d been dreaming about, and the larger man’s grin widened.

“It’s too bad no one but me cares about where you are, little bird,” Doflamingo said, leaning over Law to suck at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “It’s just you and me.”

Law choked off a moan as Doflamingo reached down and took both their cocks in his hand, stroking and thrusting his hips forward. Law screwed his eyes shut, even as his hips bucked, and he could feel his orgasm coming close. Doflamingo’s movements quickened and became more erratic as he chased his own pleasure, tensing and biting down on Law’s skin as he came over Law’s stomach.

The pain from the bite was enough to send Law over the edge, and he went rigid with his release before slumping bonelessly into the mattress. He hated the way his body had come to respond to Doflamingo’s touch, even if it was a defense mechanism. When he opened his eyes again, Doflamingo was sitting next to him, smirking in satisfaction.

Law jolted awake with a gasp, remnants of the memory fading from his mind’s eye. He looked around the darkened room, taking a moment to register that he was in his room on the Polar Tang. His crew and their allies had found him and brought him home. He wasn’t Doflamingo’s prisoner anymore.

“Captain, are you all right?”

Law started as Bepo sat up from the floor next to his bed with a concerned look on his face. When had he—?

Oh, right. There had been a party in the mess, and Law had had a flashback. In his panic, he’d stumbled back to his room, where Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin had found him curled up on the floor. They’d managed to calm him down then get him into bed.

Lying on the floor, he’d felt thirteen all over again, waking from screaming nightmares in Wolf’s house while his new friends, just kids themselves, had struggled to figure out how to help him. Over the years, they’d gotten a lot better at supporting him through his nightmares and panic attacks, though as far as they knew, Law had had fewer of both over the years. In reality, Law had just gotten better at hiding them. Not sleeping also helped cut down on the nightmares—there were simply fewer opportunities for them.

Law rubbed his face through his hands as Bepo sat down next to Law on the bed. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Captain.” There was far too much understanding in that one word for Law’s comfort. “No one is expecting you to be fine after what you’ve been through.” Law glanced at Bepo, who quickly added, as if he were afraid Law would interrupt, “And we’re not asking you to tell us! Just. Whatever it was, we know it was hard.”

Law snorted. Considering Bepo and the others had helped Chopper examine Law after he’d been brought back to the Tang, they’d all no doubt seen the marks Doflamingo had left on him. It wasn’t hard to get a picture of what had happened from the scars and bruises that marred his skin. Doflamingo was a possessive man, after all.

“And we’re here for you.”

“I know,” Law said, leaning back wearily against the headboard. He still didn’t know what he’d done to earn the loyalty of these amazing people, but he had them and he considered himself incredibly fortunate.

Bepo reached a paw toward Law’s hand. When Law flinched, he withdrew it. Law winced at his body’s unconscious reaction.

“Sorry,” Bepo immediately apologized.

“No, I’m sorry,” Law said, reaching for Bepo. Law was not the touchy-feely sort, but he made an exception for Bepo. (He made a lot of exceptions for Bepo.) He took the mink’s paw in his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Bepo enveloped Law’s hand with his paw and squeezed it. Law gave him a wan smile, which Bepo returned with a wide smile of his own. Something tight loosened just a bit in Law’s chest at that. Bepo had always been the best at reaching him when he was at his lowest.

“It’s just…” Law said haltingly, feeling Bepo, of all people, deserved an explanation. “Right now, it’s… hard for me. To be touched. Especially if I don’t know it’s coming.” He still felt the ghost of Doflamingo’s touch on his skin, and any surprise touch reminded him of it. Touch with Doflamingo meant violation, pain, humiliation. “It’s not your fault.”

Bepo nodded. “No touching without asking. Got it.” He gave Law a lopsided smile. “The others are going to need a few reminders.”

Law huffed a weak laugh. The Hearts were an affectionate crew—despite their emotionally constipated captain—who regularly bumped shoulders and threw arms around one another. Personal space was rare on the Polar Tang, and not just because they were a large crew in a confined space. Though Law had tried to keep something of a distance from them over the years, it had never worked. He’d mostly grown used to their casual affection, but now it would take some relearning.

“It’s not your fault either, you know.”

Law started. “I—”

The bear squeezed Law’s hand again. “However many reminders you need of that, Captain, we’ll give them.”

-----

Later that morning, Law woke up to white fur in his mouth, and he sputtered until Bepo came awake and shifted so Law could breathe. For as gross as it was having a mouthful of fur, there was something comforting in the familiarity of the smell of Bepo’s soap and the softness of his fur.

“Sorry, Captain,” Bepo murmured sleepily as Law sat upright. He gave Bepo an absent pat to tell the mink he had nothing to apologize for.

It was the first time Law had gotten a good look at his room since he’d been back, and since the ship wasn’t submerged, sunlight fell through the porthole, illuminating the space. From the books on his bedside table to the papers on his desk, it looked almost exactly as he’d left it, expecting to return later that night on Wano. Instead, Law hadn’t seen it for seven months.

His eyes widened as he noticed Kikoku resting against the wall next to the bed and his hat sitting on the bedside table. Swallowing, Law reached for his sword, and he could feel the nodachi’s pleasure at having her master home once more as well as an underlying bloodlust toward the one who had separated them. Law could relate. He entwined his fingers in the cord on the sheath, savoring the familiarity. It felt good to have a blade in his hand again.

“She missed you,” Bepo said. “When we found her on the deck the day you were taken, she was furious. We could barely touch her at first.”

Law’s stomach clenched as his bedroom melted away into the deck of the Polar Tang.

Kikoku in one hand and his pile of notes in the other, Law was crossing the deck of the Tang toward the door when he heard something clatter behind him. He felt his irritation spike.

“Straw Hat-ya, I thought I told you—” he started, spinning around. But the other captain was nowhere to be seen. Law frowned and glanced around. The deck was empty. What—

His Observation Haki flared just a moment too late, as a loud crack rang out through the air. Law’s eyes widened, and he gasped as pain ripped through the back of his right shoulder and exploded down his arm. The strength drained from his still-healing body, and Kikoku clattered to the deck next to him while his papers slipped from his fingers and scattered across the wood. He sank to his knees, his body seeming to move on its own.

Seastone bullet, he realized as he reached behind him to feel a hole in his shirt and wetness spreading on the fabric. His hand came back red. He looked down at the undamaged front of his shirt; the bullet hadn’t exited.

He cursed as he watched a shadow rising behind him, a large figure with a gun in hand. Law pushed his pained body to move—to do something—as the shadow approached, and he managed to twist himself halfway around before the butt of the gun slammed into his temple. Another wave of pain jolted through his body, and he had the faintest sensation of falling as everything went dark.

Law’s eyes flew open at the sudden memory and he bolted to his feet. His grip tightened on Kikoku. Even on his own ship, with allies in shouting distance, he wasn’t safe. Doflamingo could find him anywhere, at any time…

He looked around wildly for a moment before his gaze settled on a startled Bepo.

“Captain?”

Bepo.

Bepo was safe.

Bepo was safety.

Bepo was home.

Law’s shoulders dropped, and he loosened his white-knuckle grip on the nodachi. He slumped back against his desk, half leaning against it as he stared at the floor.

“It’s nothing.”

“Law,” Bepo started to protest.

Law cut him off, a spike of irritation flashing through him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Bepo. Neither did Straw Hat-ya last night. You all shouldn’t have to walk around on eggshells around me just because I’m broken.”

“Don’t say that, Captain. You’re not broken.”

Law let out a derisive snort. “Have you looked at me?”

Eyes still on the floor, Law watched as paws approached him. “I’m going to touch you, Captain,” Bepo said quietly. Law tensed but nodded. A gentle paw lifted his chin so he had to meet Bepo’s gaze. The mink’s expression was determined.

“When I look at you,” Bepo said, “I see a man who has survived everything the world has thrown at him. I see a man who, by all rights, should have shattered years ago but has kept fighting. I see the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

Law could feel the threat of tears in his eyes so glanced away at the earnest look Bepo was giving him. He didn’t deserve it.

“I gave up, Bepo,” Law admitted quietly. “I’d stopped fighting by the time you found me. I’m not…” He shook his head. “I’m not what you say.”

“Law, you tried to fight us when we found you,” Bepo argued.

Law couldn’t take the kindness Bepo continued to show him, the faith he had in him. “I tried to kill myself!”

Bepo looked stunned for a moment before his expression shifted—but not to one of disappointment but of sadness and was that guilt? “When?”

“About three weeks ago,” Law said, practically falling into his desk chair as his legs felt like they might give out at any moment. He propped his elbows on his thighs and dropped his face into his hands. “I’d discovered Doflamingo was experimenting on my blood.” He remembered the revulsion of finding the blood and tissue samples in the lab and the horror of realizing his blood might hold secrets to weaponizing Amber Lead Disease. “I didn’t want to keep living as a guinea pig, so I tried to jump off the balcony.”

“What happened?”

“Doflamingo stopped me.” He could feel the echo of the strings wrapping around his chest and pulling him back. “Then he caged me in so I couldn’t try again.” Waking up after that had been one of the worst feelings of his life. “I just… stopped fighting after that.”

Because I’m weak.

Law let out a startled yelp as Bepo pulled him up and into a hug. He went rigid at the touch, but after a moment, relaxed into Bepo’s grip.

“You’re still here,” Bepo said fiercely as he tightened his grip on Law. “And that bastard isn’t. You hear me, Captain? You’re still here.”

He’s going to get out, a voice in the back of his mind taunted. He might be out already. The Gorosei will free him again, and he’ll return for you.

Law shuddered and pushed himself free of Bepo. He needed space. He needed…

Fuck, he didn’t know what he needed.

He ran a hand through his hair and glanced past Bepo’s shoulder. Out of the porthole, Law could see some of the Flevan coastline. He frowned, realizing he’d never actually gotten any answers about how he’d been found.

“How did you know to come to Flevance anyway?”

“Ah,” Bepo said, wringing his paws nervously at the change in topic. “About that, Captain.”

Law raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in Bepo’s tone. “Bepo?”

Bepo sat down on the edge of Law’s bed while Law returned to his desk chair. Bepo filled Law in on the allied crews’ months of trailing Doflamingo as well as Eustass Kid running into Doflamingo.

“Eustass-ya… was looking for me?” They’d fought against Kaido and Big Mom together, true, but Kid had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with an alliance with either the Straw Hats or Hearts beyond the borders of Wano.

Bepo nodded and explained how the Kid Pirates had found Law’s blood samples, which led Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin to realize Doflamingo must have some plans related to Amber Lead Disease. After running into Smoker, they’d made the connection to Flevance and immediately made their way to the North Blue. They’d also made a deal with Smoker to lead him to Doflamingo in exchange for letting the pirates go. It seemed then that Smoker had brought Fujitora in on the plan, leading to Doflamingo’s arrest.

Law took a few moments to digest this information. It was… a lot.

“I see,” Law said slowly. Then, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, he asked, “How much did you tell the Straw Hats about Flevance?”

Sanji, being from the North Blue, likely had a better sense of what being from Flevance meant than anyone on his crew except Robin, though even he would have been quite young when Law’s home fell. The rest… well.

“All of it,” Bepo said, hanging his head. “I’m sorry, Captain. We thought it was important everyone know so we could find you.”

Law sighed. “I’m not mad, Bepo. You made the right call.”

But now everyone knew Law’s history—a history that, even seventeen years later, he still found too painful to dwell on for long. It was also a history that put a target on his back; Doflamingo had been released in part because the Gorosei found it inconvenient to have a survivor of Flevance roaming around after they’d ordered the country’s genocide.

Law was a loose end.

He also didn’t want anyone’s pity. He didn’t want anyone, neither his own nakama nor the Straw Hats, looking at him differently because of what he’d obviously been through as Doflamingo’s prisoner or because he was the sole survivor of Flevance. He’d had enough of those looks as a child; he couldn’t bear it again.

“Now what, Captain?” Bepo asked quietly.

Law hummed thoughtfully; looking at the city had given him an idea. “Now we go talk to the others.”

-----

After a shower, shave, and change into his own clothes, Law was starting to feel like himself again. Bepo watched as Law picked up his hat from his bedside table and turned it over in his hands a few times before putting it on and grabbing Kikoku. He rested the nodachi in her customary spot against his shoulder, and some of his tension melted away. When he looked in the mirror, he could almost recognize the reflection looking back at him.

Bepo’s smile was wide as Law turned to look at him. “It’s good to see you, Captain.”

“Thanks, Bepo.” For that morning. For the night before. For coming for him. For never stopping looking for him. For always believing him.

Bepo beamed as he followed Law out of his room and toward the mess. The mess was empty except for Clione working in the kitchen; he handed Bepo and Law plates as well as a mug of coffee for Law. “Everyone’s eating on deck this morning.” Law nodded. “By the way,” he added, and Law’s chest tightened for a moment as he turned to look back at Clione. “It’s good to see you, Cap,” he said, echoing Bepo’s words.

Law’s chest loosened. “Thanks, Clione.”

Clione saluted with his spatula before returning to the pancakes he was flipping. Bepo and Law headed toward the deck, and when they stepped outside, they found most of the crews mingling between the two ships.

There was a chorus of calls to Law and Bepo, and Law inclined his head in response since his hands were full. He glanced around the two ships until he spotted who he was looking for on the Thousand Sunny. He handed his plate to Bepo.

“Save me a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Bepo nodded, and Law headed toward the gangplank. He considered Shambling himself over but remembered the Room he’d tried to summon the day before and decided not to push things. Considering how long his system had been exposed to Seastone, there was a good chance it would take days—more likely weeks—for his full grasp on his power to return. As he stepped onto the grass of the Sunny, a familiar voice called his name.

“Torao, good morning!”

Law stiffened, images from his flashback playing in front of mind’s eye. Luffy’s mischievous smile. The sound of his voice dark with lust. The feeling of the younger man’s lips on his skin and his weight pressing Law down into the mattress.

“You love him.”

“My Corazons, always made weak by their hearts.”

Law’s face warmed, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Luffy.

“Straw Hat-ya,” he said curtly before heading toward his true target. He could practically feel Luffy’s disappointment radiating from him, but Law ignored it. He had something else in mind for today.

Robin looked up from the book she was reading in mild surprise as Law sat down at the table across from her. She glanced at Luffy over Law’s shoulder but said nothing as she returned her gaze to Law. She was nursing what looked like a Bloody Mary.

“Good morning, Torao-kun,” she greeted with a smile.

“Nico-ya,” Law replied. “I was hoping to talk to you and Tony-ya.”

Robin hummed and glanced around the ship before her eyes alighted on the reindeer. She crossed her arms, and Law watched as a hand sprouted out of the reindeer’s shoulder across the deck where he was chatting with Usopp and tapped him. Chopper yelped in surprise before noticing Robin’s hand then finding Robin and Law across the deck. Robin waved him over, and Chopper’s face split into a grin. He said something to Usopp then scurried over to the table and hopped into a chair next to Robin.

“How are you feeling, Torao?” Chopper asked.

“Better after sleeping in my own bed,” Law replied, and he was mildly surprised to realize it was true.

Chopper nodded then glanced at Robin. “What’s up?”

“Torao-kun?” Robin prompted.

Law took a breath. “Bepo tells me he told you all about Flevance. And that I was born here.” He grimaced at how awkward he sounded, but this was not something he was accustomed to sharing with others.

“He did,” Robin agreed. “It was quite the surprise.”

“It’s amazing that you were able to cure Amber Lead Disease, Torao!” Chopper added. “I’ve read about it, but it sounds like the literature is wrong.”

“Propaganda spread by the World Government,” Law said darkly. “Amber Lead Disease was never contagious. It was a genetic disorder resulting in shortened lifespans due to the effects of the Amber Lead my people mined. The World Government and the Royal Family knew about it but kept it to themselves.” He realized he had tightened his hands into fists atop the table and made himself loosen his grip. “Anyway, I was only able cure it because I had the Ope Ope no Mi. Without it, I would have died at thirteen.”

“That’s terrible, Torao,” Robin said. “But why are you telling us this?”

“Because,” Law said, taking a breath, “in addition to creating weapons with Amber Lead in them, Doflamingo was experimenting with my blood. He’d brought Caesar in for the work.”

According to Bepo, they’d already figured out Doflamingo was experimenting on Law, but they made surprised sounds at the clown’s involvement, and Law nodded.

“I believe he wanted to see what would happen to blood that had already been exposed to the disease once.” That was what Law had assumed from the bits of research he’d come across in the lab, anyway. “After all, Amber Lead on its own doesn’t create immediate sickness; it settles in the cells and passes on its mutations to future generations. But my blood once held a fatal dose of the disease and may have been the key to spreading a fatal dose to others.”

“You think he wanted to use your blood to weaponize Amber Lead Disease?” Chopper asked, eyes wide.

“Yes. I don’t know if it’s possible; I cured myself fourteen years ago and have done regular checks to make sure it hasn’t recurred. But Doflamingo seems to think so, which is enough of a concern.”

“What can we do?” Robin asked.

“I’d like to take a small group up to the palace to see what was left behind after Doflamingo’s arrest,” Law said. “And I’d like you two to be part of that group.”

“Of course,” Robin agreed immediately.

“Yeah!” Chopper agreed before sobering slightly. “Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“It’s necessary,” Law said instead of answering the question. And it was true; there was no way Law could let this research on Amber Lead leave the island. He needed to get a better sense of what Doflamingo and Caesar had been up to then destroy it all.

Chopper frowned but didn’t challenge Law’s reply.

After lunch, Law led a small group from the docks into the city. Bepo, Shachi, Penguin, Jean Bart, Robin, Chopper, Usopp, and Franky had been selected to make the trip. Luffy had wanted to come, but Robin had spoken to him and somehow had convinced him to stay behind. Law was fairly certain he didn’t want to know what she had said, but he appreciated the distance anyway after his nightmare the previous night.

As they left their ships, Law couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The first clue was that all the ships in the harbor were gone except for the Thousand Sunny and the Polar Tang. The next was that there were no guards in sight when the group approached the entrance. When Law had arrived with Doflamingo, there had been guards spaced out around the entire perimeter.

After exchanging confused looks with the group, Law shrugged and headed into the city. He’d been in shock when he’d first arrived in Flevance so hadn’t paid much attention to the city as they’d driven up to the palace. Now that they were making the trek on foot, Law couldn’t help but take in the familiar buildings, remembering what had once been a thriving city full of happy people. The white of the Amber Lead had dirtied with time, windows were blown out, and marks of fire damage were everywhere. No one commented on the stains on the cobblestones and walls that were obviously old blood.

“Are you okay, Captain?” Penguin asked as they walked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Law asked through clenched teeth.

“Oh, no reason. Just that this used to be your home,” Usopp muttered. “And now it’s a total ghost town.”

“It’s super creepy,” Franky added as he looked at the burned-out buildings.

Law rolled his eyes but said nothing, instead focusing on the path in front of him. Despite not having walked these streets in nearly two decades, Law still knew exactly where he was going.

“Flevance was once considered one of the most beautiful islands in the North Blue,” Robin said into the uncomfortable silence. “The entire city was said to sparkle in white, as if constantly covered in snow. Even the plants had turned white due to the Amber Lead in the soil.”

“Wow,” Usopp said, pausing to kneel next to some debris that had been overgrown with white grass and vines.

“It was,” Law said suddenly. He wasn’t sure why he’d spoken, but when he noticed the others looking at him, he clarified. “Beautiful, that is.”

He remembered getting up before sunrise with his father to shadow him at the hospital and walking down the streets as the reds and oranges and pinks of the rising sun reflected off the white buildings.

The buildings had also reflected those same colors as fire tore through the city the night that it fell.

“Captain—”

“Let’s keep walking,” Law said, throat tightening.

After an hour’s walk, they reached the main gate of the palace. Law’s skin was crawling; they hadn’t come across anyone in the streets or heard any sounds of activity nearby. The palace itself loomed with a haunting quiet of its own. Where was everybody? Before, there had been Marines, palace staff, men working the mines, runners between the palace and harbor, and scientists in the lab, but now there didn’t seem to be anyone around except for the two pirate crews.

Law led the way into the palace and toward the infirmary. Doors and windows were left open, as though the staff had left in a hurry without bothering to close everything up.

“Nami would faint if she could see this place,” Usopp said, eyes wide as he looked at the ornate finishings in the hallways they walked through.

“Flevance was one of the richest nations in the North Blue before it fell,” Robin sad absently, studying a portrait of the Flevan King and Queen.

“And then the Royal Family abandoned their people to die to appease their greed,” Law said, glaring at the portrait. He shook his head and started walking again. “The lab is this way.”

The group fell in step behind him, the only sound the muted footfalls of their shoes against the carpet. Once they reached the infirmary, Law frowned when he saw the door to the lab open and the lights on. It really did seem like everyone had just fled after Doflamingo’s arrest. Law led the way through the infirmary and into the lab.

He froze when he stepped inside.

“It’s empty,” Shachi said from behind him, looking around.

Every workstation had been cleared of its machinery and plans. The papers that had hung on the walls had been torn down.

No…

Panic rising in his chest, Law strode over to the sample refrigerator and opened it.

It was empty as well.

All of Law’s blood and tissue samples were gone. All the prototype weapons and the plans for further research were gone. Someone had taken it all.

But who?

And for what purpose?

Law shut the refrigerator door and turned back to the room, a familiar emptiness creeping back over him. The others were looking for anything that might have been left behind but were coming up empty.

Robin came up next to him. “I’m sorry, Torao-kun.”

“Someone has all of this research,” Law said, shaking his head. “It could be Caesar. It could be the Marines. Or, shit, anyone who had access to the palace in the last two days.”

“And there’s no telling what they will do with it,” Robin said.

Each possibility that floated through Law’s mind was worse than the previous one. “Fuck.”

#This chapter is really long #I originally planned four scenes #Got two of them into the chapter #And it's still ridiculously long lmao #Trafalgar Law #Monkey D. Luffy #Donquixote Doflamingo #Caitlin's fic #One Piece fic #One Piece fanfic

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ikkaku-of-heart · 3 years

Text

Her Brother's Blood is on His Hands

(Originally written for @heart-pirates-week for Ikkaku’s day with the prompt “Family” but ended up being delayed until now. Inspired by discussions with @shambledsurgeon and @medicus-mortem)

Ikkaku awoke slowly, the persistent beeping of a heart monitor resembling that of a particularly slow but annoying alarm clock. She tried to sit up but a sharp pain in her side dissuaded her, so she was forced to remain on her back, looking around at the sterile walls of the infirmary. She was hooked up to an IV, there were several machines monitoring her vitals, and she could feel the pressure of tightly-wound bandages around her torso and arms.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Law said from the chair at her bedside, putting down the medical book he’d been reading. The circles under his eyes appeared darker than usual, but his grin was comforting and sure. “I was beginning to wonder if we’d have to resort to drastic measures to wake Sleeping Beauty.”

“Law?” she asked weakly, grimacing at how hoarse she sounded due to the dryness of her throat. “The fuck happened?”

“Gonna have to be more specific,” he stated as he carefully helped prop her up enough that she could safely drink some water. “Do you mean how did you end up here? Maybe the extent of your wounds? Or how about what, exactly, I did to the fucker who hurt you?”

Her eyes widened as she recalled what had happened. She’d been taking a walk with Jean Bart, venting about how much she hated that they were now government dogs because Law’d insisted on handing the Navy one hundred hearts. They’d run into a squad of Marines. Her brother’s squad, to be exact. Ushi had decided it was pointless trying to climb the Navy ranks the normal way, and thus had come up with the idea of sucking up to the Celestial Dragons. And what better way to do so than to return to Saint Rosward his wayward slave?

Heart clenching at the thought of her shipmate being handed back over to those bastards, she asked, “Is Jean—”

“He’s fine. Discharged yesterday,” Law promised, nodding towards the empty bed on the other side of the room. He picked up a chart, studying it as he continued, “Needed a lot of stitches for the lacerations across his back and arms, but nothing life-threatening.”

“Good,” she sighed in relief. He hadn’t been killed or taken. Jean Bart would continue to live as a free man for a while longer. He deserved that much.

“Was quite the sight, seeing him charging towards the ship, covered in blood, carrying you like a baby while you bled out from a stab wound,” he commented, voice even, though there was an unmistakable tightness in his jaw. “I’m just glad he managed to tell me who’d done this to you two before he passed out.”

White teeth sank into her bottom lip, guilt pulsing through her. That’s right. It hadn’t exactly been a victory. They’d managed to take down most of the Marines, but Ushi had managed to get behind her, and then there’d been excruciating pain as he’d driven a knife deep into her side…

“I’m sorry, Captain,” she whispered, black curls hiding her face as she hung her head in shame.

“The hell are you apologizing for?” he asked, gold eyes flicking up from the clipboard and narrowing in displeasure.

She wrung her hands, anxious and guilty. “Jean Bart got hurt because of my family baggage.”

“He got hurt because of an opportunistic asshole who decided that Jean being under the protection of a shichibukai didn’t matter,” he snapped. Pausing, he took a deep breath to compose himself. “The fact that said asshole came out of the same uterus as you is irrelevant.”

“We both know that’s not true,” she countered, refusing to look at him. “He targeted the Hearts because of me. He always has. And he wouldn’t have been able to go after Jean Bart if I’d let you kill him years ago. Or killed him myself. You deserve a subordinate with the stones to kill her own brother.”

Internally, she berated herself for that last part. None of this would be a problem if she’d just toughened up and put an end to that bastard. Why did she always seem to stop herself? Morality? Because she knew how heartbroken her parents would be? Because even years later, she was still scared of her childhood boogeyman?

Her thoughts were disturbed by the clipboard lightly smacking her on the head in reproach. It didn’t hurt, but Ikkaku rubbed her head anyway, frowning up at her captain. “You trying to knock me unconscious again?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you to stop talking bullshit,” he retorted. He glared at her for a moment before letting out a sigh, a tattooed hand falling heavily on her shoulder. “Ikkaku,” Law stated, tone brokering no argument, “what I deserve is a subordinate with the stones to stand up to a power-hungry bastard looking to sell her nakama to a bunch of delusional inbred freaks, which that’s exactly what I’ve got. And what you deserve is to not get stabbed in the spleen by your own blood.”

Well. It was hard to argue that logic. “I guess. But next time—”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“You don’t know that.”

The hand on her shoulder fell away to flip through the pages of her chart. “Ikkaku, you nearly bled out before you even got to the sub. You’re lucky Shachi and Penguin share your blood type and were basically tripping over themselves to donate. I had to replace your spleen and left kidney, and if that knife had gone in at a slightly different angle, he could have punctured your stomach or lung. In other words, this bastard nearly cost me my engineer. You’ve known me for goin’ on five years now; do you really think that once you were stable I just sat around twiddling my thumbs while I waited for you to wake up?”

Dark eyes widened in realization. “Did you kill him?”

“Would you be mad if I said I had?”

No. Not at him at least, but she still felt like she’d let him down by not being able to do it herself. “He shouldn’t have been your problem to solve.”

“You’re right. He shouldn’t have been a problem,” he replied harshly. Before Ikkaku could internally berate herself further, though, Law ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and there was a spark of guilt in his eyes. “No Marine should have even touched you guys. That’s supposed to be one of the fucking perks of being a shichibukai. I told you when I took this damn title that you be safe and look how that turned out.”

Yes, that had been a major argument between them, hadn’t it? For Ikkaku, not wanting to be affiliated with the World Government hadn’t just been a matter of pride or general hatred for the bastards who ran the world – she’d been afraid. Terrified that her brother would be waiting for her around every corner. That he’d find a way to get her alone, to finish the job he’d started when she was seven, to finally get her out of his hair. Law had promised she’d be safe, that he wouldn’t let him so much as breath near her. Eventually, she’d come to believe him, but things hadn’t gone to plan.

“You can’t blame yourself for Ushi not following the rules, Law,” she insisted. Yeah, she could have berated him for not listening to her, but in reality, Law’s logic had been sound; Ushi shouldn’t have dared to try anything. Ikkaku didn’t just have the Hearts protecting her anymore – the Navy itself had become another obstacle in his way. She should have been safe.

However, even she hadn’t fully considered why Ushi would go this far, but in hindsight, it made sense. Last she’d checked, he hadn’t been promoted in a while. Hadn’t advanced as quickly as he wanted or earned any accolades for heroism like everyone back home had been expecting. He was a commodore still – not even a rear-admiral, and his name didn’t strike fear into the hearts of pirates like Smoker’s did.

Because he’d been put on a pedestal, her brother had always gotten away with everything, which had only enforced his cruel and abusive nature. The whole island had believed that he’d become a famous Marine and boost their reputation, which was why they’d been willing to overlook the bruises that littered his sister’s arms, or the fact that she’d gone missing for three days while under his care.

If he’d come home a failure, everyone would have to finally admit he was nothing but a twisted, cruel bully. And instead of accepting the blame for enabling, they’d likely make him answer for his crimes.

But more than that, he’d be forced to accept that he was never that special to begin with, and she knew a man as arrogant as him wouldn’t be able to bear that.

Shaking her head, she almost felt pity for him. “Ushi was desperate, and desperate men are unpredictable as fuck. You couldn’t have known he’d be crazy enough to try to suck up to the Celestial Dragons.”

“Neither of us could have known, but I still could have protected you better,” Law retorted, crossing his arms. He still didn’t look fully convinced of his own absolution, but he declared quite plainly, “The fact is, brothers shouldn’t murder their younger siblings, or even try to.”

Well, not even Ikkaku could argue that.

But actions had consequences, and there was still a strong chance Law’s retaliation, justified or not, would bite him in the ass.

“Ushi might have been no one special, but the Navy’s not going to be happy about you killing one of their own,” she said, genuinely worried. Even if Ushi had been going against orders, shichibukai weren’t supposed to attack their Marine allies. What if they decided to strip Law of his new title? Sure, she hated that he was a government dog, but it was a vital part of his plan to take down Joker, and if that had been stripped away because he’d recklessly pursued revenge on her behalf…

The way he smirked at her belied that he didn’t share even a fraction of her concern. “The Navy’ll have a hell of a time pinning a murder on me when there’s no evidence. It’s unlikely he was ordered to attack you and Jean Bart, so there’s no paper trail. The man was obsessed with advancing up the ladder, so likely only a select few are even aware you’re related, thus no one knows of his unfortunate connection to the Heart Pirates. And unless they plan on gutting a bunch of Sea Kings and piecing together chunks of half-digested flesh, I doubt they’ll find enough of his body to even determine his cause of death.”

“You fed him to Sea Kings?”

“His remains, at least. As for how I killed him…well, I won’t bore you with the details.”

It was highly doubtful what he’d done could be described as boring, but Ikkaku decided not to press him. Knowing Law, it had been slow, painful, and had probably involved dissection. “You didn’t have to do all that for me, Captain.”

He dismissed her concerns with a casual wave of his hand. “Of course I did. You’re family. Besides, if I hadn’t, the rest of the crew would have gone after him themselves, and they wouldn’t have done as good a job covering their tracks. Or made him scream quite as loud. No offense to them, but conventional torture methods just can’t match the agony of having your heart slowly crushed to a pulp.”

Was she a bad person for not feeling sick at the thought of her oldest brother—her own blood—being subjected to the Surgeon of Death’s sadism? That instead of anger or disgust, she felt relieved? Sure, he was a massive piece of shit who deserved to die for everything he’d done to her, her other brothers, and who knows what else, but he was still family, wasn’t he?

No. The Hearts were family. Law was family. He was right – Ushi was blood, but he wasn’t her brother.

Law’s brow furrowed with concern and he reached forward, cupping her cheeks and wiping tears away with his thumbs. Ikkaku hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, looking genuinely guilty. “I shouldn’t have overstepped like that. I should have at least waited until you were awake and asked—”

Though she was tired and weak and it took far more effort than she’d like, Ikkaku lifted her arm and flicked Law squarely in the forehead. He didn’t quite flinch back, but he did give her an annoyed grunt, but his brow did smooth out when he saw her bright smile.

“Thank you,” she said, cheeks streaked with tears but voice warm with love and affection and gratitude. It might take a while for her to fully accept that Ushi was no longer laying in wait at every Marine base, but for now, she could breath a little easier. The monster from her childhood had finally been vanquished.

Trafalgar Law might not have been a knight in shining armor, but he was something better. He was the big brother she’d always wished for.

Relieved that she wasn’t angry, Law gave her a tiny but sincere grin back. His engineer was alive, safe, and giving him that sunny smile that could light up a room. Well worth the blood on his hands, and quietly, he vowed to keep her, and the rest of his Hearts, safe from whatever hell might come their way.

They were a loyal bunch of fools, but they were his family. He’d set the world on fire before allowing anything to happen to them.

A hand adorned with the word DEATH retreated from Ikkaku’s cheek to ruffle her hair. “Don’t mention it.”

#The Engine is the Heart of the Ship (canon)#Join the Hearts: We Have Uniforms #Heart Siblings #Drabble #(been wanting to go into what happens to Ushi during the timeskip)#(and how it would definitely be Law that kills him instead of Ikkaku)#(hope people like this!)#(not sure about the title but it's the best I could think of without being cheesy or cliche)

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cutie1365 · 3 years

Text

Hello Detective Chapter 71

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is my first time writing in months oof, but I’ve had these next few chapters outlined for a while so I’m really excited about this idea and where it’s going.

Any and all feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

Masterlist in bio, taglist in reblog.

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“Wow,” Charles said in shock as he took a sip of his martini. Sitting across from him in a dark secluded corner of the expensive restaurant you explained everything to him and how your life had changed over the last few weeks.

“Are you really surprised? You know how crazy my life is. This can’t be that much of a stretch.” You chuckled. Looking back, shocking things happened to you all the time. Serial killers, faked deaths, assassins.

“I just can’t believe you got married.” He shook his head. You were no longer the cold hearted grieving girl he once knew.

“Actually I’m kind of shocked about that one too. Everything happened so fast.” You gazed off out the window. You’d gone from married to fake broken up so fast that it almost gave you whiplash.

“Are you ok with all of this?” Charles asked with a raised brow, uncertain.

“It’s our jobs, I know it’s never going to be easy. You and I have each done worse for a case.” You tried to convince him, and maybe yourself.

“God I know,” He almost shivered, “Remember Barcelona?”

“Don’t remind me.” You cringed, shaking your head, before looking up and smiling at the man across from you. The two of you sure had some wild adventures.

“So when’s the last time you saw him?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Hm, guess it’s been about three weeks. We texted for the first two, but he told me he’d have to cut off contact. Guess a break in the case. Hopefully this will all be over soon and things can go back to normal.” You said, taking a sip of your wine.

“Our lives are never normal Y/N,” Charles teased, “How’s work been? I mean, obviously can’t be that great, I’m not there.”

“Ask me something else.” You groaned, stabbing at your plate as you pictured Magnussen’s face.

“O come on, do you need me to kill someone for you?” He asked, and you knew he wasn't joking.

“That’s so sweet, Charles, really chivalrous of you.” You smirked, placing a hand over your heart.

“You know I’ll do it darling, drop of a hat.” He sipped his drink once more.

“Oh I know you will. Work’s fine. I like it, I do. I hate the politics of it though.” You shrug.

“We need to get a gun back in your hand and get you back to MI6.” He said.

“What, do you not like your new partner?” You asked with a smirk, knowing he didn’t play well with others. Hence the whole reason you were assigned to work with him in the first place.

“Well they’re not you darling, so obviously.” He flattered you.

“Do you want a desk job at MI5?” You teased.

“Oh shoot me.” He scoffed, causing you to laugh.

You’d missed this, the shenanigans you two got into. Of course you were happy to be catching up with him again, you just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances. You were thankful to have someone to confide in though.

“Why don’t you come see the office tomorrow, I’m free in the morning. Take a break from the River House.” You suggested, tempting him with your puppy dog eyes.

“I might...” He smiled, knowing he could never say no to you. His voice trailed off as you noticed your waiter approaching your table.

“Are you ready for the check, sir?” The waiter asked, only making eye contact with Charles, not even acknowledging you.

“Yes please.” Charles took the leather booklet from the man who promptly turned and left. You reached across the table to snatch it out of his hand but he pulled away out of your reach.

“A gentleman never lets a lady pay.” He shook his head.

“Well we both know you’re not a gentleman. And this lady promised you dinner, for you know, saving the entire country from a nuclear explosion.” You argued.

“If you insist.” He smirked, bringing the check closer, now within your reach.

“I do.” You snatched it, slipping your card in without even looking at the price. Perks of the new job. Hell if Mycroft had told you how much you were gonna make you would have gone off to work with him a long time ago.

As Charles walked you back to your flat, you slipped your arm under his as you noticed the photographer on the other side of the street. They seemed to be camped out with a direct view of your house. Of course you pretended not to notice them.

“What do you say Gregson, gonna invite me up for old times sake?” Charles smirked as you’d made it to your front door.

“I say, we’ve got eyes on us at your six and my husband needs the world thinking we broke up. So you’re going to kiss me on the cheek and then I will invite you inside.” You smiled sweetly, you had to make these photos look convincing. Surely they’d be on the front page come tomorrow morning.

“Have you always been this bossy?” He smiled, rolling his eyes and slowly moving in to kiss you on the cheek, giving the photographer time to make sure he got a shot.

“Of course I have.” You whispered back with a chuckle.

“Happy?” He smiled, pulling away.

“Come on, my couch misses you sleeping on it. And I’ve got some Glenlivet 25 with your name on it.” You slipped your arm around his back and pulled him into the flat, no doubt giving the photographers a couple more shots.

“Oh Gregson, you know me so well.” He smirked.

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

The next morning you were giving Charles the grand tour of the Thames House, MI5 HQ. You were hoping for a calm, quiet, peaceful morning. Of course in your world that was never likely.

As you’d made it to the top floor of the building and stepped into your corner office Charles immediately strode in like he owned the place.

“So this is your office, hmm, I could get used to this.” He smirked as he plopped himself down into your desk chair and spun to face the windows. They were floor to ceiling and made up the whole wall. Of course they were bullet proof for security purposes.

“You wouldn’t last a week.” You joked as you approached the window and admired your beautiful view of the river.

Suddenly, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you were pulling it out as you turned back to Charles and chuckled at his behavior.

Who knew a world class assassin could be won over by a cover office and a swivel chair. Your face went pale as you glanced at the text that lit up your lock screen.

911 Barts

-JW

“Oh my god,” You muttered.

“What is it?” Charles asked, he knew it was serious from the look on your face.

“911 Barts Hospital.” You turned the phone so he could see as you snatched your purse off of your desk.

“Come on, I’ll drive.” Bass jumped into action, leading you out the door and down to the garage as your mind wandered. Something was wrong. John wouldn’t have texted you if it wasn’t. Was it Mrs. Hudson? Was it Sherlock?

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

As you burst into the lab that the receptionist had directed you towards you heard the hard slap of flesh on flesh as Molly’s hand came down onto Sherlock’s face. He was alive, hell he looked like shit but he was alive. He’d told you this case would take a physical toll on him, you knew it could mean a relapse.

“Oo, can I go next?” You ask, annoyed as you stood in the doorway, Charles lingering behind you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Sherlock spat, matching your energy, making sure to hold up his end of the charade. You saw his head tilt to view the man standing behind you. He almost looked intimidated for a moment, as his face flashed in a “That’s Charles?” sort of manner.

“John texted me ‘911’, I thought it would be important, I was on a date. Clearly I can see we’ve wasted our time.” You retorted, crossing your arms as you stepped into the room. This was as close as you’ve gotten to Sherlock in nearly a month.

“I’m confused.” John chimed in, furrowing his brows as he looked between you and Sherlock.

“We broke up.” Sherlock explained with an eye roll, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“You’re joking.” John almost laughed, not thinking he was serious. The hint of laughter left his lips as he looked back at you and Charles, “You’re not joking. So you two...”

You nodded as Charles stepped to your side to introduce himself.

“Charles Bass,” He shook John’s hand with a smirk. For an extra touch he slipped his hand to the small of your back.

“Right.” John nodded, still confused as to how so much had happened while he was away on his honeymoon. To him it seemed like his whole world had turned upside down.

“Maybe one more slap for good measure, Molly.” You smiled at the girl who looked just as shocked as John at the news of the break up. Glancing down you noticed the missing ring on her ringer, and hoped she wouldn’t get any ideas.

“If you were anywhere near this kind of thing again you could have called, you could have talked to me.” John moved towards Sherlock, obviously he wasn’t clean. Rock bottom always meant a certain 7% solution. You hated how it always came back to this.

“Oh, please, do relax. This is all for a case.” Sherlock rolled his eyes at John’s scolding.

“Isn’t it always. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that one.” You scoffed.

“What kind of case would need you doing this?” John asked, still not amused.

“I might as well ask you why you’ve started cycling to work?” Sherlock said to John, trying to change the subject as you glanced at the wrinkles in John’s shirt and followed his deduction.

“No, we’re not playing this game.” John shook his head.

“I drove all the way here for this?” You raised a brow, annoyed.

Sherlock looked to you as John had his back turned. A smirk lingered on his lips, he was enjoying this little game. That or he was still high. You had to admit, it almost was fun, and a bit like role playing. The smirk dropped as he put back on his mask and turned to John.

“Quite recently, I’d say, you’re very determined about it.” He just loved to get under John’s skin.

“Not interested.” John said, and you nodded in agreement as you turned to walk back towards the door.

“I am. Ow!” You recognized a voice coming from behind Sherlock and turned around at the sound of his yelp. You tilted your head to see around him, your eyes landing on a familiar face.

“Wiggins? What’re you doing here?” You asked, your brows furrowed in genuine confusion.

“How do you know him?” Sherlock asked with hostility, but something in his voice told you he was scared. He didn’t like not knowing things, and he couldn’t comprehend how you could possibly know this man. You weren’t supposed to know him, this wasn’t part of the ruse.

“We’re old friends,” You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes, “What do you think?”. His eyes widened in realization. Well there’s anothering thing the two of you had in common, same dealer. Although for you it was more of a one time thing.

“Is it his shirt?” Wiggins butt in, changing the subject and breaking the unintentional staring contest you and Sherlock were having.

“I’m sorry?” Sherlock turned back to Wiggins.

“Well, it’s the creases, innit?” Wiggins said, “The two creases down the front? It’s been recently folded but it's not new. You must have dressed in a hurry this morning. So all your shirts must be kept like that. But why? Maybe ‘cause you cycle to work every morning, shower when you get there, and then dress in the clothes you brought with you. You keep your shirts folded, ready to pack.” He said, shocking nearly everyone in the room.

John and Mary were so focused on Wiggins that you and Sherlock were able to share a quick smile, almost a laugh. It quickly faded to ensure no one else noticed.

“Not bad...” Sherlock said.

“There you go, a new toy to play with. Have fun,” You scowled at Sherlock as you made your way towards the door once more, “Molly, Watsons, Wiggins, it’s been a pleasure.” You nodded at the rest of them, ignoring Sherlock as you left the room.

As you walked down the hall, you weren’t sure whether to feel angry or happy that you at least got to see your husband and know that he’s alive.

“Well that was unexpected.” Charles said, breaking your train of thought as you walked back to the car.

“Welcome to my world.” You scoffed, a ‘quiet morning’ was unheard of for you.

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

Just as you began the drive back to your office your phone lit up with a call from Mycroft, causing you to roll your eyes.

“My brother’s drug habit is about to hit the newspaper. Did you know about this?” He asked, and if you didn’t know any better it sounded like an accusation.

“Well that’s not really my problem anymore is it?” You retorted.

You’d spent the last few weeks convincing him that you and Sherlock had broken up. Making sure to mention plans with Charles more in his presence to really sell it. Luckily after some initial shock and a brief conversation with his brother, he believed you. But surely he wouldn’t think you would leak a relapse to the press for some sort of petty revenge.

“Did you know?” He asked once more, more forcefully.

“No, I just found out. He’s at Saint Barts, John texted me.” You explained, rolling your eyes once more.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to block all of these articles. Will you meet me at Baker Street, I may need back up.” He asked, but you knew it wasn’t really a question. You tapped Charles on the shoulder and mouthed ‘Baker Street’ to him and spun your finger to instruct him to turn the car around. He nodded and complied.

“Should I bring my gun?” You asked sarcastically. What kind of back up did he think he was going to need, it’s his baby brother for christ sake.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” He said, unamused.

“Well if you’re not wanting me to crack any skulls I’m not sure why I have to tag along.” You said, you had a very certain skill set and if he wasn’t looking to utilize it, there was really no point beyond moral support.

“Don’t make me order you.” He threatened and you scoffed, as if he could.

“Mycroft, I don’t want to have to see him. Surely you can understand why. It’s not my job to look after him anymore.” You pleaded.

“No, but it is mine. So you will be there.” He said sternly, and you sighed and hung up.

Of course you had already instructed Charles to turn around and head to Baker Street, you just wanted to push back against Mycroft a little to make this whole break up seem more convincing.

When you pulled up Mycroft was waiting outside. Charles got out and made his way around the car to open the door for you. You leaned back against the closed door as you smiled sadly at Charles.

“Thank you, sorry your tour gott cut short.” You smiled, making sure to keep your voice at a whisper so Mycroft didn’t overhear anything.

“Oh my morning was much more interesting, you’re one hell of an actress darling.” He whispered back with a smirk, placing one hand next to you on the car and leaning closer casually.

“You’re just figuring that out? By the way, we have a very important audience right now.” You informed him.

“That the brother?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Then we’ll just have to be convincing,” Bass said, leaning down to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed for a case, public displays of affection make people uncomfortable and tend to prove very useful in spywork.

“I’ll call you later.” He waved with a wink as you walked towards Mycroft. You smiled and waved back with a nod.

Mycroft raised a brow, his face in its usual look of disgust.

“Well that was unpleasant to watch.” He said once you were now standing in front of him.

“I told you I was busy and I don’t want to be here, you don’t get to judge.” You scolded, raising your finger at him. You turned to face the famous black door of 221 Baker Street, realizing how long it’s been since you’d been here.

“No, but I do get to say I was right.” He smirked, causing you to furrow your brows and turn back to him.

“About what?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“I always knew there was more between you and 007.” He said, with the tilt of his head, as if he took pleasure in being right. Of course he wasn’t really right.

“Spare me, Mycroft. Let's just get this over with.” You rolled your eyes and crossed the threshold into 221B, an eerie feeling starting to settle in. Your gut told you not to walk up those seventeen steps, it warned you, it screamed ‘Danger Ahead”, but of course you didn’t listen. You never did.

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

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damianwaynerocks · 4 years

Text

Zuko & the Waynes - Chapter 3

Batfam/ATLA au

Description: Prince Zuko, pre-finding Aang, falls into Gotham City. After being adopted by Bruce Wayne, Zuko finds himself enjoying life in this strange world. Zuko Wayne has a family who loves him unconditionally. Zuko Wayne is a hero, saving the innocents of Gotham City every night. But Zuko soon finds himself at the center of a plot that threatens to destroy not only this new world he's come to love, but also the world he's trying to leave behind.

A/N: okay, so the members of the titans and young justice team are different in this au.

Young Justice: Tim Drake (Red Robin); Cassie Sandsmark (Wondergirl); Kon/Conner Kent (Superboy); Bart Allen (Impulse)

Titans: Dick Grayson (Nightwing); Koriand'r (Starfire); Garfield Logan (Beast Boy); Rachel Roth (Raven); Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle); M'Gann M'orris (Miss Martian)

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

Chapter 3:

"So, you remember the plan?"

"Yeah, we got it," said Cassie into her earpiece, having to raise her voice to be heard over the pouring rain outside. "Don't worry about us, we're fine."

"Good to know," Tim responded into the comlink.

It was the night of the auction. Zuko was wearing a black suit while Cassie was wearing a red dress. Both had their masks on. Kon, also known as Superboy, was sitting in the driver's seat. He was acting as their chauffeur, and was there as backup in case anything went wrong. Zuko rolled his eyes as he heard a slurping sound in his com link, presumably from Tim taking a sip of coffee.

"That was gross," Kon sighed. "Don't do that."

Tim ignored him. "Proud of you both. Remember, if the wrong person gets their hands on the magyntite, not even Superman will be able to stop them." He paused. "No pressure, though.”

"Wow, you're great at pep talks." Zuko adjusted the mask on his face, making sure it hid his scar. "You ready, Cassie?"

"I was born ready," Cassie responded with a grin. "Now, let's go, Henry."

"After you, Larissa." Zuko grabbed an umbrella and stepped out of the self-driving black limousine they'd borrowed from Bruce. He went around to her side of the vehicle and opened her door for her. Cassie looped her arm through his, muttering a thank you as Zuko raised the umbrella above both of them. They walked into the casino.

Just inside, a bouncer stepped in front of them. "How tall is the eagle's wingspan?"

"That means do magic," Tim said through the coms.

"Uh," Zuko's mind raced as he tried to think of a spell on the spot. "Fire Dragon Iron Fist!" he finally said, and a ball of fire appeared over his closed fist. The bouncer nodded, and unhooked the red rope, allowing them to step inside.It was bright and loud and flashy, and Zuko had to stop for a moment to get his bearings.

"You good?" Cassie whispered, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. "It's okay. Let's just go downstairs, follow me." She gently led him towards the back of this casino. Tim had told them that there was a staircase behind the bathrooms, and the basement was where the auction was taking place.They walked past the doors that said 'men' and 'woman' and opened the third door, revealing stairs going down to a concrete basement. "You okay now?" Cassie asked as they began to descend.

"Yeah," Zuko grunted. "I'm fine." They walked down a dark and damp hallway, a stark contrast to the bright lights and clean floors of the upper floor. The reached a huge room with a wrap around balcony overlooking the bottom floor. Many people, all wearing masks, were crowded together.

"It's about to start, Mr. Henry," Cassie said. "Let's go sign in." The pair walked through the people until they reached the stairs leading to the bottom floor. Arms still linked, they walked down the stairs.

"There's a ton of people here," Zuko mused. "I wonder what they all want to buy."

Cassie shrugged. "Drugs. Artifacts. Who knows."

They made their way to the middle of the throng of people and sat down in two of the chairs. The auction started soon after, and the words the auctioneer was saying sounded like white noise to Zuko. Finally, twenty minutes in, Tim's voice in his ear made Zuko flinch. "Magyntite is next," he said. "Be ready."

Sure enough, the man held up a silver briefcase. "Magyntite!" he yelled. "This drug is like Kobra Venom! Bulk up your muscles, lady and gentlemen. Do I hear... two million?" Zuko raised his hand and the same time another man did. The man glared at Zuko, who did the same.Back and forth this happened, Zuko and this man trying to get the magyntite. In the end, though, Zuko and Cassie got it for $45,000,000.

"Holy crap," Cassie breathed as they walked back up the stairs. "That man wanted to kill you."

Zuko hummed. "He isn't the only one."

Cassie gave him an amused look."Is that so, Sir Henry?"

"Indeed it is, Lady Larissa."

Golden eyes gazed into blue for a second, both having small smiles on their faces.

"Yo, you guys get it?"

"Uh, yeah," Cassie replied, breaking eye contact. "Yeah, we're heading back now."

Zuko's face reddened. He hadn't felt any feeling similar to that since Mai, when he was thirteen. He shook his head to clear it. Don't be stupid, he told himself. Don't even go there. No chance of that happening.

"You good?" Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow under her mask. Zuko cleared his throat and nodded a little too quickly.

"Me? I'm great. Splendid. Never been better!" he babbled. "Oh Agni, I bet Kon is going crazy! Uh, let's go see him!" He linked his arm with Cassie's and half-led half-drug her through the club and out the door.

"And the lovely couple returns!" Kon cheered as Zuko opened the door for Cassie. "I missed you! Tim told me I couldn't listen to my podcast because I had to stay alert so I've been bored out of my mind."

"Oh, poor baby!" Cassie mocked. "Do you need a massage and a nice cup of tea?"

"I do, actually."

"Too bad, Superbrat."

Zuko looked out the window. He missed his uncle's tea.

Only 11 more months.

___

The next morning, Zuko, Duke and Damian were at the table eating breakfast. Zuko was about to put a piece of bacon in his mouth when he felt eyes on him. Looking up, he frowned as he met Duke's eyes. "What?

Duke's eyebrows were furrowed in disbelief. "Dude, it's 7:00 in the morning. Why are you already dressed?"

Zuko blinked. While the others were in their pajamas- Duke in an old t-shirt and shorts and Damian in his silk robe -Zuko was in jeans and a Ralph Lauren button-up, his hair in a topknot. He would've put shoes on, if it weren't for Alfred's no-shoes-in-the-house rule. "I'm used to getting up at dawn and getting ready. It's what I've done for three years."

Duke shook his head. "You're making me feel like a slob, Zu."

"You will not feel that way for long," Damian spoke up. "For I hear Drake coming down the stairs."

Sure enough, Tim walked around the corner, staggering to the table. He was in an over sized black Superman shirt and his boxers with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His long hair was a mess, and the circles under his eyes made it look as though he had been punched in the face. Alfred pulled out a chair beside Zuko, a cup of coffee already in his hand. Tim stumbled towards the chair, looking as though he was about to pass out. He sat down in the chair slowly, and Alfred immediately put the cup of coffee in front of him. Tim blinked slowly, before picking up the coffee and bringing it to his lips.

"Well," Duke chuckled. "I no longer feel like a slob."

Damian wrinkled his nose, scoffing at Tim. "You are a disgrace, Drake. Have some self respect." Tim stared at him owl-eyed in response.

"Just give him like ten minutes," Duke said. "Anyways! So I heard you went on a mission last ni-"

"Master Duke!" Alfred interrupted him sharply. "Might I remind you the rules of breakfast?"

Duke seemed to shrink into himself as he answered in a small voice, "No vigilante talk at the breakfast table." Alfred nodded in approval before going back into the kitchen. Duke turned back to Zuko. "Later."

Zuko hummed in response.

As soon as breakfast was over, Duke ran to Zuko excitedly. "So!? How'd it go?"

"It went fine," Zuko replied. "I mean, we went in, got the stuff and got back in the car."

"That's it? No fights?"

"No fights."

"What about Cassie? Any emotions?"

Zuko coughed, his eyes widening. "What!? No! Don't be stupid!"

Duke laughed. "Dude, you're gonna have to get better at lying if you want to join the business."

"Which could start right now, if you want." Zuko and Duke whirled around to see Bruce holding a cup of coffee. "You've been here for a month. You can fight and you're smart. You're welcome to start training today, if you want."

Zuko's jaw dropped. "Uh, yeah! That'd be great!"

Bruce smiled."Fantastic. Go get changed into something comfortable and we'll start."

Zuko practically sprinted to his room, but before he could change, his phone chimed.

Cassie Sandsmark: good morning doofus

.Zuko grinned in spite of himself.

Zuko Wayne: good morning!

Cassie Sandsmark: how'd you sleep?

Zuko Wayne: great but i don't know if tim slept at all he's barely alive right now

Cassie Sandsmark: sounds like tim

Cassie Sandsmark: so when u joining the hero business

Zuko Wayne: right now,, I'm about to start training

Cassie Sandsmark: YAY TELL ME HOW IT GOES

Zuko Wayne: of course

Training, Zuko decided, was difficult. It'd been a month since he'd started, and while he was improving, he was sore and sick of computers.

"If I have to break another one of Tim's codes, I'll kill myself," he groaned, flopping on to the couch beside Damian, who nodded.

"Every time Drake speaks, I want to kill myself." Zuko eyed him wearily.

"That's harsh."

"Such is reality." Damian flipped to the next page of the book he was reading. "So, your first patrol is tomorrow?"

Zuko grinned."Yeah. I'm so excited." He sat up, cracking his knuckles. "Gonna be a blast."

"Are you finally adequate at lying?"

Zuko winced. "It took me a while but yeah, I got it."

"Good. We cannot have you exposing our secret." He looked up from his book. "Christmas is next month. Pennyworth instructed me to inform you that he needs a list of what you wish."

Zuko groaned. "I have no idea what I want."

"Well, figure it out," Damian replied. "Because if you do not, I'll have to listen to the complaining."

It was the night of his first patrol. Zuko turned to the mirror. His suit was a black kevlar lined jumpsuit with an obsidian utility belt and combat boots of the same color. There was a blue bat symbol across the chest, and a demon-type stage mask of the same color on his face. He looked at the blue gauntlet on his wrist and flexed his arm.

Dick whistled lowly. "Lookin' sharp, Zu."

Zuko grunted in response, but he couldn't stop the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

"Good to see you suited up," Bruce said as he saw his son. He turned to the Bat Computer and typed something in. "Alright. Nightwing and Robin, you take the east side. Red Hood and Black Bat, you take the west. Red Robin, you take south. Blue Spirit and I will take north."

"You got it, boss man," said Jason with a mock salute. At that, the vigilantes headed out.

"Remember," Bruce began as he and Zuko got into the Batmobile. "Code names in the field." Zuko nodded.

"I won't forget, Batman."

"Good to hear, Blue Spirit."

After a few minutes if driving, Oracle spoke. "Croc is robbing a store on the corner of North and Order," she said. "Blue Spirit and Batman are closest."

"We're on it," Bruce said, and sped up.

They reached the corner in five minutes, and jumped out of the car. "Croc!" Bruce yelled.

A huge reptilian humanoid turned toward the voice, and smiled. "Batman!" he chirped. "And who's this?"

"Blue Spirit," Zuko said stiffly.

Killer Croc chuckled."New kid to destroy? I love that."

Croc rushed him, snapping his jaws viciously. Zuko jumped into the air, doing a flip over the creature. Fire blasted out of his elbow and he punched Croc in the snout as he turned.

Croc stumbled back. "Igniting your elbow to increase the force of your punch? Smart. Not smart enough." He ran towards Zuko again, claws outstretched, moving at inhuman speeds. Zuko ducked under his claws and gave an uppercut with the same advantage into his stomach. Croc was thrown into the air by the force. Before he could land, Zuko sent a blast of fire at him, engulfing him in flames. Croc screamed and fell to the ground, charred and smoking.

"He's still alive," Bruce said gruffly. "Not bad. I'll call Gordon." Zuko's chest swelled with pride, but he simply nodded.

"There's a robbery at the R&D center of Enterprises," Oracle said suddenly.

"Blue Spirit and I are going to check it out," Bruce answered.

"10-4," Dick replied. "Call if you need backup." Bruce grunted in response and, gesturing for Zuko to follow, jumped back into the Batmobile before speeding off.

"R&D?" Zuko echoed what Oracle had said earlier. "What's that?"

"It's the Research and Development Center," Bruce replied. "It's where we store Batman Inc. tech that's still in production."

"Oh."

“That's right. If anyone succeeds in getting their hands on what's in there-"

"-They'll get their hands on everything." Zuko bit the inside of his cheek. "It's fine. We can do this."

A hint of a smile ghosted across Bruce's lips, so small that Zuko wasn't sure if it'd even been there in the first place.

The Research and Development Center of Wayne Enterprises was primarily used to develop advancements in technology. These advancements ranged from more effective cancer treatments to new engines for vehicles.The blueprints listed the building as being eight stories. Unbeknownst to the majority of WE's employees, there was a basement. A basement hidden far below the actual building, so far below than an express elevator was needed. This basement was where the technology for Batman Inc. was developed.

Unlike the secret basement of Falcone's club, this basement was in pristine condition. It had a hospital feel to it, with white flooring, walls, and ceiling.

Bruce and Zuko had just grappled down the elevator shaft was landed at the end of one of the basement's hallways."The only alarm that's been triggered was the entry alarm," said Bruce. "The rooms where the... merchandise are kept have separate alarm systems. Can you tell me what this means, Blue Spirit?"

"The intruder either doesn't know what exactly is down here, or they just haven't managed to get into the rooms yet." Zuko frowned. "Wait, if they figured out this place was here then that means they definitely know what's down here. So then they haven't found the location of the 'merchandise.'"

"And you believe that to be the most probable scenario?"

"Well... yeah. I mean, unless they managed to bypass the alarm system. But that's impossible, this place is un-hackable ever since that incident with Ra's al Ghul. The security system is invincible. Right?"

"Rule of thumb, Blue Spirit," Bruce grunted, raising his arm closer to his face to he could activate his gauntlet. "Nothing is invincible. Everything has a weakness. Some are harder to find than others, but the only thing that is truly invincible is God Himself. And I don't think He would have any reason to break into Wayne Enterprises."

"Okay, but they tripped the alarm when they came in," Zuko pointed out. "So they must not have been able to hack the system."

"Unless they want us here."

Zuko sucked in his teeth. "So that's what you think? This is a trap?"

"It isn't a trap if we know about it," Bruce countered. "Here, I'm pulling up the motion sensors." Sure enough, the holographic screen coming from the gauntlet showed motion in room 121.

"Is that one of the rooms?" Zuko asked.

Bruce nodded."Yes." He and Zuko started to run in the direction of the before mentioned room. "There's very dangerous technology in there. We need to stop this intruder now." The two were sprinting, taking twists and turns through the winding hallways until Bruce stuck his arm out, signaling for Zuko to stop. In front of them was room 121, the door ajar.

"Holy crap," Zuko whispered. "They hacked us."

"They hacked us," Bruce echoed. "And now they're going to pay. Manuever 13. Be cautious." Bruce rolled a metal ball into the room, and it exploded into smoke Using the smoke as cover, Zuko and Bruce dashed into the room.

Using the heat signatures to see through the smoke, Zuko jumped forward, swinging down his broadswords in arc. His eyes widened as they hit air; the person had disappeared."What-" he broke off as someone landed a hit to his spine. Zuko whirled around, kicking out at his attacker, yet his foot hit air as the assailant dodged again.

"A teleporter?" he muttered. A laugh hit his ears, and the assailant landed another hit to the back of his head. Zuko tried to return the hit with one of his own but, of course, he missed.So far, Zuko noticed, they were teleporting closely around him. They were staying in close proximity with him. It would be hard to deduce where exactly they would strike, unless he limited their options.

Zuko stomped on the ground, and a ring of fire flared up around him. The attacker led out a gut wrenching scream as they were caught in the flames.He caught a glimpse of a person in a black suit clutching their arm before they teleported above his head, aiming a dropkick above him.

But Zuko had anticipated this. He grabbed their leg from above and slammed them on the ground. They landed with a crack and coughed.

"You just broke my spine, you asshole," the person wheezed. They were still now, and Zuko could see she was a girl with long brown hair in a wine-colored robe.

Zuko gulped, forcing down the rising panic at the girl's words. "Maybe you shouldn't have tried to break my skull."

The girl shrugged. "Just following orders."

"Who are you!?" Zuko snarled. "Tell me! Who are you and what do you want with this technology!?"

"Well, if you must know," the girl said, pain evident in her voice despite her calm tone. "I am but a servant of The Lady of the Dual Skies."

"The Lady of the Dual Skies?" Zuko echoed. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing's taken," Bruce said as he crossed his arms from where he stood behind Zuko. "Nothing has even been tampered with. You clearly weren't looking for anything here. So what did you want?"

"The Lady does not permit me speaking with anybody but you." The girl was speaking directly to Zuko, not sparing Bruce a glance. "She has something she wishes you to know."

Zuko narrowed his eyes behind his mask. "And what would that be?"

The girl grinned wickedly. "She says she'll see you soon."

With that, a portal opened up under the girl and she disappeared in a flash of purple light.

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fiction-fun · 3 years

Text

Hey guys! Part 2 of my newest Simpsons story. I'll be honest after this, it will probably be older stories for a while. But I hope to atleast post 2 stories a week, but at the very least I'll post 1! Send asks guessing what I'm posting next! I'll confirm with using your ask as the story or deny with an answer! Here we go!

Fandom: The Simpsons

Pairings: Future! Bart/Nelson, Future! Lisa/Oc

Words: 7230

Warnings: Child abuse

*There's a note on the first part about that tag*

“He won’t be there much longer.” She said finally softly.

Lisa just snuggled closer to her, and tried to calm down. An hour later the doctor shuffled out of the house after looking them all over. Kaley carefully stood up a little while later and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, covered Lisa with it. She turned to look at Bart and Nelson, waving them to follow her. Bart had stopped shaking a bit ago but still looked to be in a sense of shock.

“What are we doing?” Nelson asked looking around.

Kaley walked down a hallway that none of them, except for her had been down before.

“I’m sick and tired of this. We’re taking this jerk down.” Kaley started as she paused outside a door, pressing her hand to a keypad.

The door opening and she walked inside, the other two following her. The door sliding shut behind them. Kaley walked over to a desk that held a computer with a lot of different things plugged in.

“Time to get some information.” She said as she pulled open a browser.

Bart tapped her shoulder.

“Let me.” He said, looking at the computer, his eyes still not really there.

Kaley looked at him for a second before nodding and standing up. Bart took the seat and typed in a web page, and logging in.

“I made this forever ago.” Bart said in explanation of why he had access to the page.

Nelson and Kaley crowded around and looked at the computer, on screen was a social media profile for the 2nd grade teacher Miss Hoover. With a few quick taps on the keyboard, Bart pulled up Lassen’s profile.

“No way.” Kaley said softly.

Nelson’s eyes widened as they looked over the profile.

“What’s Blazing Guy?” Bart asked looking up at the two of them.

Kaley hummed for a second.

“Its uh, kind of a celebration where adults go to basically party.” Nelson said finally.

Kaley nodded but paused.

“He’s the head pyro this year. Oh, this is good this is very good.” Kaley said an evil smile curling her lips and as her fingers tapped lightly against the back of the chair.

Bart and Nelson looked up at her and looked a bit scared.

“One, you look like your father. And two, why is that good?” Nelson asked voicing both of their thoughts.

Kaley’s smile widened further.

“Excellent.” She said with a short laugh.

Both boys shivered at that and Kaley shook her head, her smile shifting into a nicer one.

“Lassen being the head pyro, the person to light the statue. We can use that to our advantage.” Kaley said with a short laugh.

“What do you mean?” Bart asked.

Kaley tapped a few keys going to a different website.

“If we can get to Blazing Guy, we can find evidence against Lassen. Or alternatively we can sabotage his lighting attempt. Look, it’s that spray that stops fires from starting!” Kaley said pointing at a picture.

Nelson and Bart looked at the screen and evil smiles lifted across they’re faces. Kaley’s smile lifted as well. The next two days were spent planning, and asking parents for permission. By Saturday all of them were ready.

“Kaley, are you sure this is the only solution?” Her dad asked her worry lacing his tone.

Her father had to stay back to watch the plant. Kaley smiled and nodded, her feet tapping on the floor.

“Yeah, we have it all planned out. Everything will be perfect.” She said happily.

Waylon sighed but nodded as he pulled into a parking spot. Kaley unbuckled quickly and climbed out of the car. The two of them quickly got their tent set up before going to find Nelson, Bart and Lisa.

“Oh! There they are!” Kaley said pointing towards the small group.

Her dad looked in the direction she was pointing for a few seconds before nodding.

“Who’s that with them?” he asked her.

Kaley looked up at him confused for a second before looking back towards the group and groaning.

“That’s Millhouse dad, remember he was originally in the group but he was too soft to handle it.” She said a small whine in her voice.

Waylon looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, not used to hearing that tone coming from his daughter.

“Well, perhaps he can help.” He suggested mildly.

Kaley shrugged lightly. “As long as he doesn’t get in the way.” She said finally.

They reached the others and Waylon moved over to the other parents, giving them some privacy.

“Oh, hey Kaley!” Millhouse said happily.

Kaley stopped next to Lisa and looked at the boy.

“Hey Millhouse.” She said, with a short sigh.

The kids spent a while talking and exploring the area. After a few hours the sun had set and it was time for Lassen to light the statue. Kaley looked around for Bart not seeing him or Millhouse.

“Hey Nelson, you see Bart?” she asked looking at the other boy.

Nelson looked at her slowly eyes a bit wide.

“I thought you knew where he was.” He said voice low.

Kaley just shook her head slowly. Lisa gasped and caused Kaley and Nelson to spin around to face her.

“Bart!” she yelped pointing at the statue.

Kaley looked at the statue and sure enough there were Bart and Millhouse scaling the tower, with Lassen shooting the flamethrower at them.

“Lets go!” Nelson shouted, before taking off running.

Kaley nodded taking a few steps before turning sharply.

“Go get my dad and your mom!” She shouted before turning back around and racing after Nelson.

The two of them grabbed the flame prevention spray and started to scale the statue as well. Reaching the top, they started emptying the canisters to help fight off the fire. Lassen ended up getting angry and trying to chase them up the tower, causing a nearby wrecking ball to crash into the tower, knocking the whole thing down. The leader of the event called for Lassen to be placed in ‘the human jail’. Kaley, Nelson, Bart and Millhouse ran away from him and to their parents.

“Think that’s enough?” Kaley whispered to her dad as he leaned down and hugged her, Nelson stood at his side.

“Yes, I think that’ll be quite enough.” Waylon agreed with a smile.

After that they ended up ending the trip early, Nelson, Bart and Lisa coming to Kaley’s for a sleepover instead. The following Monday they got the good news, Lassen was fired for his antics at Blazing Guy. Kaley met up with Nelson before they met with Bart and Lisa.

“Wearing a camera is weird.” Nelson said handing it over.

Kaley laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, but after a few years you forget all about it.” She said tucking the small button camera away.

Nelson laughed and the two of them walked out of the school and towards Bart and Lisa. They settled in the grass and talked for a while just enjoying the first day in a bit that they were able to relax.

#fanfiction #oc #the simpsons #bart simpson #lisa simpson #nelson muntz #tw: child abuse #part 2

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dying-hemlock · 3 years

Text

The Figure At First Church of Carnation

“The Figure at First Church of Carnation”

A Story by: Dying-Hemlock

Bart fell silent as the headlights of James’s car illuminated the front door of the church. It was falling apart and held together through a combination of rusty nails and strangler vines, which anchored what remained of the walls to their support posts.

“What the hell are we doing here?” Bart asked.

“You told me you were bored, so I figured we should so do something exciting,’ James said.

“And hanging in a church parking lot is your idea of exciting?” James rolled his eyes, and he turned off the car, putting the keys in the middle console. Bart shot him a look, raising his eyebrows a little.

“Don’t give me that look. Nobody is out here. Nothing is gonna happen to the car.”

Bart rolled his eyes and turned his head towards the church. Somehow it made him feel cold, even with the car slowly heating up from the summer air. He couldn’t place what made him feel this way. It was just an empty church, right? James stepped out of the car, a 2006 Subaru Outback, shut the door and motioned for Bart to do the same. He exited and joined James in the parking lot. Bart let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in when he heard the crickets chirping outside. Hearing something other than the car’s engine helped make the scene before him less creepy.

“James. Really, what are we doing here?” Bart asked. “I don’t need to tell you anything,” James said.

“Well, then you can take me back home.”

James sighed. “Fine. You always have to ruin my surprises, don’t you?”

“Get on with it, or take me back.”

“I heard some kids talking about it while I was waiting tables at Shoney’s last night. Apparently, this place is haunted by some deranged priest who tried hanging some ‘witches’ back in the day and can’t rest till his work is done. I don’t know. It was some bullshit like that,” James said.

“And you seriously believed some story enough to drag me out here?” Bart said.

“You are the one who said you were bored. Be grateful I’m doing something for you.”

Bart crossed his arms and stared at James. After a quick look, James huffed and turned around, walking towards the church. Bart followed and didn’t say a word to James as they approached the building. As he moved closer, Bart began to notice the only sound he could hear was the gravel crunching beneath his boots and that the air had grown unseasonably cold.

“James, I think we should go back.”

James did not respond to Bart as he inspected the door. Unable to find a lock, James took a few steps back and ran, forcing his foot into the door. Bart looked up and gritted his teeth as the structure began to sway.

“James, wait!”

Bart was too late to stop him as James had already started to charge the door again. With a loud crack from the dry wood, the door splintered, a portion of it flying into the chapel. Bart looked up, seeing the building swaying even more now, and pulled James away from the structure as it began to rock even more wildly than before.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Why don’t you take a look, you dumbass?!” James said, pointing at the church. James quieted down when he saw the church’s walls and roof were rocking like the boats down at the town’s marina. Eventually, though the church fell back into place again, the vines that grounded the building still holding firm.

“Don’t try anything like that again,” Bart said.

James shook off Bart and entered the chapel, careful to dodge the large splinters poking out of the now broken door. Bart followed closely behind, holding his breath as he passed through the threshold. When he entered the space behind the door, Bart breathed again as he could see there was not much of a roof present. A few semi-rotted beams still made up the somewhat triangular frame above their heads, but others had fallen down, crushing a few up the pews. There were also large gaps in the shingles as well, making the starry sky visible through them.

“So…” Bart said. “Is there any way to summon this priest or whatever?” “I don’t know. I lost interest in the conversation after they gave me their card. It’s not my job to satisfy them after that,” James said, poking around some of the more complete pews by the altar.

Bart stayed near the back, his hands in his pockets and his muscles tensed. He scanned his eyes around the room, which soon landed on a red book in a pew near him. Intrigued, Bart lowered his shoulders a little and walked to the book, and began flipping through it. It read ‘First Church of Carnation Hymnal.’ It was an old songbook. The pages were yellowed. He could make out a few hymns on some of the pages, “Doxology,’ ‘Mighty Fortress is our God,’ and ‘How Firm A Foundation’ were a few of the titles.

A yell from the other end of the chapel interrupted Bart’s skimming, “Hey, look at me!” James said. “Hear ye, hear ye. You all are going to Hell unless you repent of your sins, you filthy sinners.” James said as if addressing a room full of churchgoers.

James continued on for a little bit before he was interrupted. “You think that’s funny, boy?” a voice said from behind him.

James spun around. A tall and rail-thin man dressed in a black suit looked more like it belonged to a mortician behind him. His black hair was wild and had streaks of gray running through it, and his voice was like sandpaper to Bart and James’s ears as he spoke.

“Do you think that’s funny, boy?” the figure said even louder this time. Bart and James were frozen in their spots. The priest began to approach Bart and repeated his question over and over again. James slowly backed up. He began to sweat heavily as the figure closed the space between them. Bart tried yelling at James to tell him about the window behind him, but his voice wouldn’t work. All that came out was a squeak. As the figure backed James into a corner, Bart dropped the songbook. It made a loud thud against the dusty floor and sent up a cloud that burned his throat. As soon as the book made contact with the floor, the figure turned its head to Bart. By that point, the figure had already trapped James against the wall and hand a hand around his neck, and James’s pleas to Bart were getting harder and harder to hear.

“Bart…please…” James said.

“Do you think that’s funny, boy?” the figure said, this time to Bart.

The words sent a shock through all of Bart’s muscles when he heard them. He turned and sprinted out the door. The shards of wood scraped his skin, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t turn around, either. He kept going and looked for a way to get away from the church. Bart spotted the car and sprinted till he was at the old hatchback. He fumbled through the console, his fingers failing to grasp the keys due to the sweat coating his palms. Bart looked up and saw the figure sprinting towards the car. Overcome with fear, he finally grabbed hold of the key fob and jammed it into the ignition, and turned on the vehicle. Bart put it into reverse and backed out onto the road, tires squealing as he did so. Bart sped off for several miles and stopped at the end of a long driveway leading. The sign near the road was hard to make out in the low light but read, ‘Heishman Farm.’ When he stopped, his chest was heaving and burning from a combination of the dusty church and exerting himself more than he had since high school. After catching his breath, he suddenly jolted upright.

“James!” he said.

He couldn’t go back. What if that thing was still at the church? Better to take the risk than to leave James behind. Throwing caution to the wine, Bart turned the ignition. The car sped off once more, kicking up the dust in the driveway, and moved down the road back towards the church.

When he arrived, Bart leapt out of the car and began calling for James. The air was silent, except for the crickets, which were once again chirping. He tried calling again, but nothing. Bart ran up to the church entrance, trying to squeeze his way through, but a massive splinter by the base of the door caught his calf muscle and sent him to the chapel floor. He winced in pain. Bart tried to get up but had a hard time due to his injured leg, which was now coated in blood. Eventually, he got stable enough footing by using a pew as a crutch and pushed himself up.

Bart’s stomach fell when he saw the room. There was no figure anywhere to be seen. The songbook was gone too, but most importantly, James wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The pews were empty, and the altar was too, free of the tattered banners with the Methodist church icon and wooden podium that once adorned it. Bart was alone in that church in the middle of nowhere.

END

#american gothic #Southern Gothic #gothic horror #horror #horror stories #creepy small town #creepypasta #original character #original post #original content #original story #college gothic

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ikenbar · 3 years

Text

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH4 PT12 (end)

Warnings: (mainly in epilogue if you want to skip that part once you reach it, go ahead) Blood, insinuating a bone breaking, threatening, broken skin, desperate begging, and just evil things all around

... meanwhile we also have fluff!, Gavin fluff!, Victor Fluff!, surprise guest fluff???, also Bart being an icon!, also some insinuated ~✰☽Gayness☾ ✰~ so if you have a problem with any of that you can leave now before you are hooked by the heckin cliffhanger that I have all cooked up for you!! :D

(Chapter Four (Victor and Gavin) Prologue, and part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven can be found here!)

Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D

Chapter Four:

Part twelve (end):

She was there again. After all these years, my queen was standing right in front of me. She really hadn’t changed. Sure she had grown quite a bit but,

It was her.

She wasn’t very tall. Or plump for that manner. She looked to be only the size of a teenager but, after all the time that had passed from then, I knew she couldn’t have been that young.

Her hair was brown and shoulder length. She wore a layered white skirt with a striped blue shirt tied just on top of it. She was there. But she was facing away from me. I moved to touch her but my legs wouldn't budge. Why couldn’t she just turn around? Why couldn’t she just let me see her face again?

I called her name

Everything went black.

Screams and cries for help filled my head. Scattered footsteps, soft cries, stone grinding stone, a loud bang, and then silence. Pain welled in my chest. A pain I hadn’t felt but somehow seemed familiar. Horribly familiar. It wretched at my insides, breaking me without giving me any kind of release. I wanted to tear the feeling out of me, pull apart my chest until I could find peace again. I just wanted it to stop. To see her again. I just wanted to see my-

I gasped and threw my eyes open. I sat up quickly, clutching at my chest and breathing heavily to steady my racing heart. The dream was over but the pain was still there. It wasn’t as prominent but it was there. What could have caused that? Why was it familiar?? Who was that girl?!

I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly. "It was just a dream." I whispered to myself, "That girl doesn’t exist. It doesn't mean anything it's… it's just a dream." I repeated those words in my head over and over again but something about it still bothered me. Where had I seen that girl before? Where had I felt that pain before? Why was it all so familiar to me?

I groaned and held my face in my hands. I had a lot of memories that I had repressed from my childhood. That pain was heart wrenching. It’s no wonder I wanted to forget it…

But that girl. She didn’t make me feel bad. In fact, seeing her made me calm. I wanted to be closer to her, to see her face, to hold her. Why would I want to forget that? Forget her?

I looked at my watch. There was just a few minutes until my alarm to work out would go off. I sighed and lay back down. A pain pushed through my chest, not the same one from my dream but a familiar one nonetheless.

I clutched my side as memories from the night before came flooding back to my mind. I looked over to the living room. Adri stirred from the couch, letting the blanket on her shoulders fall slightly. I slowly got out of bed and approached her cautiously. Being sure to move slowly, I pulled the blanket up and tucked the blanket into her shoulder. She snuggled into it, still fast asleep. I smiled slightly as I looked up. Gavin was sleeping in the recliner. He was sitting up in it. Despite how uncomfortable it seemed, Gavin looked to be sound asleep. I moved to walk back to my bed but paused as something on his lap caught my eye. It was a book. But not just any book.

It was my high school yearbook.

A pen rested in the middle, as if marking the page he was on. I smirked and carefully pulled it from him. He sure was obsessed with this book. I put the book away in its rightful place and pulled out a blanket out from a small bin. I gently placed it on Gavin, draping it carefully down his body. He breathed deeply and sunk into the chair further, falling farther into his slumber.

A soft smile blossomed on my lips. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping like this. Not to mention vulnerable. I wonder how he would look with a mustache…

My phone buzzed. I quickly plucked it from my pocket and turned it off. I glanced at Adri and Gavin. They didn’t seem to be phased by it. Sighing lightly, I looked around my apartment. Well, now that I’m up, I might as well continue with my day…

>>>

I smoothed out my work out clothes before carefully picking up my gym bag. I walked to the door and reached for the door knob. Gavin stirred in his seat slightly. I glanced at him. I should probably leave a note if I’m leaving them like this. I tapped my chin and looked around. My eyes landed on the note pad that I kept on the fridge. Taking that and the pen that Gavin had in his yearbook, I wrote a quick note:

I’ve already headed to work. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge as a thank you for staying over. I think I have some homemade casserole in there if you're interested. Maria should arrive around seven so, Gavin, you shouldn’t be late for work and, Adri, have a good day at school. Let’s do this again soon.

Talk to you both later,

Ike.

I placed the note in the middle of the coffee table. I gave one last look to my guests before heading back to the door and grabbing my keys. I moved to reach for the doorknob again but paused. The spare key to my apartment enchantingly dangled before me. I looked back over to Gavin.

Gavin’s eyelids were overwhelmed by the morning sun. He squeezed his eyes tightly, hoping to get some more sleep. But he found that to be impossible from a craning on his neck. Gavin slowly blinked awake, his memory slowly coming back to him. He looked down. Wasn’t he reading the yearbook? Now, not only was the yearbook gone, but a blanket sat in its place. Gavin looked around the room, stretching as he did so. Adri and Ike were nowhere to be seen. Gavin quickly stood up and looked around again with more fervently this time. The bathroom door opened and Adri walked out of it, eyes looking down at her phone. She glanced up at the room and paused when she saw Gavin.

“G-good morning.” Adri stammered, cheeks becoming slightly rosy, “How’d you sleep?”

“F-fine.” Gavin faltered, his once racing heart easing at the sight of one of the sisters safe, “Where’s Ike?” Adri gestured to the coffee table, leading Gavin’s eyes down to it. There sat a folded note with his name on it. Gavin picked it up swiftly.

“Also, I think she wants you to have this.” Adri said, cutting Gavin short of reading the note. She tossed something to him, which he caught with ease. It was a key with a separate note attached to it in Ike’s handwriting. Gavin read it.

Just in case.

“I would guess she’d want that for me but I can’t even drive yet.” Adri laughed sheepishly. Gavin smiled sweetly. Much to Ike’s perceptible dismay, Gavin had expected to use that key whenever he had the chance.

I stood in the elevator next to a nervously sweating Bart. “How do I look?!” He asked for the umpteenth time that day.

“Like a nervous wreck.” I honestly answered yet again. I had spent the whole day with my team, trying to put together the plan for next week’s filming. We had spent so much time together that day that I hadn’t seen Victor since he had picked me up that morning. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t see him at all that day. In the car, Victor told me that he would like to meet with both me and Bart. I didn’t know why. All Victor said was that it was important. I was unphased by the sudden invite but Bart on the other hand…

“What if Victor hates the color purple?!” Bart asked, looking distastefully down at his violet tie, “I knew I should have gone with vermillion!”

“Honestly, aren’t you the one that does all the interviews?” I asked, arching my eyebrow, “Why are you so nervous?”

“Because! What if Victor is taking back the investment?!” Bart said quickly, as if he had been waiting for my question, “What if the lunch from yesterday was enough to realize that we spend too much time as a family and not enough time as a company?! What if he hates me and wants me out of the picture so you can take over?!”

“Ok, now that we have all the dumb ideas out of the way,” I rolled my eyes, “let’s start thinking of the good ones. He probably has something that he would like to discuss about the investment to the both of us. You know, to make sure we are all on the same page.” Bart relaxed slightly, “Or he has trained ninjas waiting just beyond this door to take us out so he can take over our company.”

“EVELYN!?”

“We’ll be fine… but maybe let me take the lead.”

“Out of the elevator or in the meeting?”

“Yes.”

The elevator dinged and, after checking for ninjas, Bart and I hurried to Victor’s office. I knocked on the door. “Come in.” Victor called. I walked in and immediately froze.

Standing in front of Victor’s desk was a petite, professionally dressed young woman. She had brown hair that fell just at her shoulders, framing the knotted blue shirt she had on perfectly.

She turned to me.

As she did the flouncy shirt she wore twirled beautifully around her knees. Her eyes were big, brown, and laced with innocence. And her smile could out match a child’s with it’s purity.

It was her.

The woman from my dreams.

She was standing in front of me.

She was real.

I staggered in my steps as I watched her, dazed and astonished by the sight of her. Part of me expected to wake up. Another part wanted to continue dreaming. The last part was wondering why the heck I hadn’t said something yet.

Bart set a hand on my shoulder, “I’m sorry.” he said as he peered into the room, “Are we interrupting something?”

“Not at all.” Victor stood from behind his desk, “Bartholomew, Ikamara, this is Youran.” The name sent sparks in the back of my mind, “She is the producer of the Yu Yun Productions Company.” Youran approached Bart and I. Each step she took shockwaves into my head. For some reason, I felt nervous to greet her. I shouldn’t have been though, as her head barely met the top of my nose from how short she was. I could have thrown her like a football if I wanted to… or hold her close to me like a puppy.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Her voice was soft and sweet like taffy. Despite the strange feelings I had, I stepped forward. But before I could out stretch my hand, Bart had pulled me aside and took Youran’s hand instead.

“The pleasure is all mine!!” Bart enthusiastically said to her, shaking her hand fervently, “I have been a fan of your show Miracle Finder since I was, well, as young as you are!!” Bart belly laughed, causing Youran to smile sweetly. I gulped. “You’re show is the reason I decided to become a producer myself!! Your father was a legend! It was a shame to see him go... I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” She said meaningfully, accepting another handshake from Bart, “That’s really sweet of you to say.” Youran’s eyes landed on me, making my heart freeze. She held out a hand to me. “Hi!” She said kindly, “You must be-”

“Ike.” I said, finally finding my voice as I took her hand, “Call me Ike.” Something flashed In Youran’s eyes. Something indecipherable. I hesitated. Did she feel the same feelings that I had?... or maybe I was just scaring her with my staring. Speak, Ike, SPEAK! “I-it’s a pleasure to meet you, Youran.” I continued, hoping to ease away any awkwardness I may have conjured, “What are you doing at LFG? Does Victor have an investment with Yu Yun Productions as well?”

“What company hasn’t he invested in?” Youran grumbled slightly, she leaned forward and whispered, “I swear he has the whole city wrapped around his little finger.”

“Please.” I scoffed, folding my arms, “As if Victor would let in the entire city. He would only have the best of the best then leave the rest to wallow.” Youran laughed with such an intoxicating sound that it should be kept in a music box, ready to be played when I needed it.

“He could be some sort of super villain.” Youran whispered to me as she glanced back at Victor. I bent over next to her ear and away from Victor’s sight.

“Captain Capitalist.” I whispered back. Youran laughed harder, causing a warmth to bubble in my chest and a smile to spring onto my face.

“Alright ladies.” Victor called from the other side of the room, “Time for leisure is over. Youran, you have a report you need to turn in before the end of the week. Ike, we have a meeting.” Youran rolled her eyes.

“Good luck.” She said sweetly to me.

“Thank you.” I said, holding my smile, “Hey, if you need help with that report, you should let me know. I’m pretty good at writing what Victor wants to hear.”

“Really?!” Youran’s eyes became wide with enthusiasm, “That would be great!!”

“Ladies.” Victor urged.

“Sorry!” Youran said, waving to Victor. She turned quickly back to me. “We should continue this later!” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a business card. She handed it to me. “The second number is my cell phone! Text me next time you’re free!” She turned back to Victor and Bart. “Bye! It was nice meeting you!”

“The pleasure was all mine!” Bart waved happily to her. She turned back to me, gave me one last smile then briskly walked to the door and closed it behind her. I kept my eyes on her, the business card sitting strangely in my hand. She couldn’t have been real. That can’t have happened... Why did she seem so familiar?!

“Wow!” Bart snapped me out of my thoughts. I quickly turned to look at him, catching his teasing expression before it faded.

“What?” I asked, somewhat defensively.

“Nothing! It’s just… I’ve never seen you smile like that with anyone before.”

My breath hitched, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it took us months just to get you to talk! You don’t trust anyone who we bring to the house, and you’re cold to everyone in the office.”

“Yes, Bart. Please keep insulting me in front of Victor. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the encouragement.”

“But one conversation with her and you’re already smiling!”

My face flushed. “Y-Yeah, well. you’re one to talk!” I stammered, slipping the business card into my blazer pocket and approaching Victor’s desk, “‘You’re the reason I became a producer in the first place!’ She’s like half your age, Bartholomew. Calm down.”

“I’m just saying!” Bart defended, throwing his hands up, “She must be a really neat person if she could pull a smile from you that easily!” I opened my mouth to retort but paused. I was inclined to agree with him. Being with her felt so easy. It was like nothing I had felt before. I wonder why that was…

I cleared my throat. “Don’t we have a meeting to start?” I said, taking on a power stance across from Victor and looking steadfastly at him. Victor had his hand to his mouth, seemingly lost in thought. “...Victor.” I appealed. He snapped to and looked up at me.

“Right.” He said, prepositioning himself in his chair, “Bart, have a seat.” Bart, who was still questionably giddy, sat down in the seat next to me. “First thing’s first,” Victor’s tone had become intensely professional, pulling Bart and me into the same professional mood, “As you can see, Ike, your office has moved.” I looked around. He was right. My desk was gone.

I whistled, “Geez, I didn’t even notice.”

“That was because you were too busy making googly eyes at Youran.” Bart sung.

I snapped my head to face him, “I was doing no such thing!”

“Yes, dear.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Just so you know, Maria and I will support whomever you choose to love.”

“Bart!”

“Focus, you two.” Victor snapped at us, bringing our attention back to him. “You can find your office a couple doors down from mine. It’s close enough to your offices that they don’t have to make too much of a trip to visit you, and yet far enough away for you to get some quiet while you work.”

Bart leaned over next to me, “And I bet if you leave your door open, you can see Youran come and-” Bart suddenly cut off. I looked over to him. He was frozen in place. I quickly looked at Victor. He was already looking at me, expression riding more into dourness then professionalism. We locked eyes.

“It’s also close enough for you to come to me any time you feel as if you are in danger.” Victor’s voice was stern but gentle at the same time, “It’s windowless so you need not worry about another attack. I also put a guard outside your door to stop any suspicious characters from coming in. You should be safe there.” I frowned.

“Didn’t I tell you specifically not to get a bodyguard?” I deadpanned.

“You were pretty quiet in the car.” Victor continued, ignoring my questions, “Are you well? How are your injuries?”

“I’m alright.” I sighed and touched my side out of habit, “I had a friend help me patch up. Though it was harder to work out at the gym with a cracked rib.” Victor’s eyebrows fell into a knot.

“Are you an idiot?” Victor tactlessly barked. I looked at him, clearly taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“You haven’t even had a full day to recover and you’ve already gone to the gym?!”

“It calms me!”

“How does being in pain calm you?”

I rolled my eyes, “Stop worryi-”

“How can you expect to protect yourself, or anyone for that matter, if you can hardly breathe?” I froze. A sweet smile popped into my mind...

“...Ok, fine.” I huffed, “I’ll stop going to the gym... For now.”

“Good.” Victor sounded resolute but something was off about it. I didn’t have time to think about it as Bart finished talking.

“-go as you please.” I looked over to Bart, shoved his face away, then looked back to Victor.

“Now, for the actual meat of the meeting.” Victor adjusted himself in his chair, “After watching how the both of you run your company this past week, I’ve made two observations. The first being, you two have no control over your employees.” Bart tensed from next to me, “I’ve received countless complaints talking about how your employees have been disruptive in the workplace. From being too loud to leaving messes all over the offices.”

“They're just passionate about their work!” Bart defended.

“Your ‘passion’ is making it hard for LFG’s employees to focus on their own work.” Victor retorted. Bart opened his mouth to speak but I held a hand up to him.

“I’ll have a word with them.” I spoke sternly, “What was your second observation?” Victor trained his eyes on me for a second.

“... There is a potential in this company that LFG would like to underpin.”

Bart and I froze.

>>>

Bart held open the door for me as we stepped out of the office, still in shock. “LFG wants to invest in our company.” Bart whispered to me the moment the door had closed.

“Yup.” I breathed.

“Five hundred thousand dollars.”

“Yup.”

We both stood in silence.

And, as predicted, Bart was the first to break it.

He started wooping loudly and punching my left arm. “WE DID IT, EVIE!!” He yelled, dancing around the room. “We DID IT!!” Bart continued dancing down the hall, twirling and pumping his fists in the air like a lunatic. I rolled my eyes and walked behind him, heart still bouncing in my chest from the news. Victor actually saw potential in our company. In me. He saw my vulnerable side and didn’t leave. In fact,

He supported it.

This was all new to me... But, it wasn’t bad.

I looked out one of the floor to ceiling windows in the hall. It had started raining outside, basking the view of Loveland in a soft gray and cleaning it of what dirt it hid in. I closed my eyes and took in it’s sound against the window as my heart slowly calmed to match the underlying beat of it.

“Hey, Ike!” Bart called, making me open my eyes once again and turn to him. He was standing in the elevator, holding the doors open for me, “You coming?” I nodded, stealing one last glance through the window.

I stopped.

From where I stood, I could see the entrance to LFG where Youran was standing. She looked disgruntled as she looked up at the sky.

“You go ahead.” My voice drifted softly as I kept my eyes on Youran, “The next time I see the team, I’m going to yell at them for their behavior in the office.”

Bart hissed, “Ah right. Ok! See you soon, Evie!” I nodded lazily as the elevator doors shut.

>>>

By the time I had gotten to the front doors of LFG, Youran had taken a seat on the front steps, resting her head in the palm of one hand and using the other to draw circles on the ground with her finger. I adjusted the grip on the umbrella in my hand and opened the door. Youran’s eyes flashed to me once then landed on me again once she saw who I was. She smiled kindly.

“Hey!” She chimed, turning to face me better. “It’s Ike, right?” I nodded.

“I thought you had left already.” I said, trying to remain nonchalant. Youran sighed and looked at the rain.

“I didn’t bring an umbrella.” She placed her head back on her hand and pouted, “Even though there was an eighty percent chance of it raining today. Heh, I can be an idiot sometimes.”

“Can’t we all?” I popped open the umbrella in my hand and held it over Youran’s head. She looked at me, shocked. “Come on.” I held out my hand, “I’ll protect you.”

Victor watched from his office as Youran accepted Ike’s outstretched hand. She helped the little girl to her feet easily and they both walked down the front steps together. The umbrella was tilted to completely cover Youran’s small body, and, even though Ike’s blazer was getting wet, she didn’t show any signs of changing her position. Victor sighed and shoved his clenched fists into his pockets. “So she does remember her.” Victor spoke to himself as he let his mind wander. Old memories coursed behind his eyes, making his eyebrows furrow deeply. When the two girls disappeared from his sight, Victor walked to his desk and pulled open a drawer. A folder slid into view. On the tab, in big black letters, it read,

"BLACK SWAN"

“Perhaps it’s not too late.” Victor lied to himself.

Epilogue:

“S-sir!” Dylan choked, “Sh-she surprised me!! But I got a shot in her! I got her arm!!”

Montu ran to catch up but it was too late. The bike had already driven off and out of sight. They breathed heavily and marched back to the building. Dylan moaned from the floor as he slowly came out of his unconscious state. Montu jumped back into the room, charged over to Dylan, and grabbed his shirt. They raised him in the air as if the six foot man weighed nothing. “What did I say, Dylan?! What did I say about LOSING HER AGAIN?!”

Police sirens cut through the air. Montu cursed. “Sir, the cars.” One of the soldiers pointed out.

“Hit the sewers.” Montu growled, rolling up their sleeves, “I’ll deal with the cars. And lock up this disappointment of a man until otherwise instructed.” The men nodded without hesitation, taking Dylan by the arms.

“Quit your blathering!!” Montu threw Dylan onto the floor, emanating a loud crack as he landed on his elbow. Dylan screamed and cradled it. “I’ll deal with you further at the base.” Montu spat, glaring distastefully down at him, “And don’t for a second think I’ll let you off as easily as I did before.” Dylan gulped.

“But it’s true!!” Dylan pleaded his empty case as they dragged him away. “She was hurt when I saw her! I shot the bullet right into her arm!! It stayed there! She was in PAIN!! I SWEAR!!” Montu removed their mask and rubbed the bridge of their nose, hoping to stifle the rising migraine behind their eyes.

Unwilling to waste anymore time, Montu focused their attention on the cars. They breathed deeply, creating a rising aura of tense air around them. A soft wind tickled their bangs and brushed the warm blood falling from his forehead. Right as it seemed like something would snap,

Montu raised their hand.

The sound of creaking metal filled the air as each of the cars were lifted from the ground, groaning against the invisible force supporting them.

Montu walked to the window, preparing to leave, when they kicked something on the ground. Looking down, their eyes landed on a tool.

A grinding tool.

Pieces of skin were stuck in between it’s blades as drying blood dripped down the side of it. Montu bent to inspect it.

“She was hurt, huh?” Montu’s voice was as smooth as butter as they traced their finger along the tool, “How interesting…”

End of Chapter Four :D

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