Talia found Yasmin's hide out only two days after the bomb.
It wasn't easy. Yasmin had hidden herself well - her monthly reports had never mentioned an acquaintanceship with Vladimir Masters, the absolute gall of that girl - in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin. She bypassed the few security measures with ease, eventually finding her daughter sitting at a kitchen table, hyperventilating.
"What happened?" Talia's voice was cold and demanding.
"The-" Yasmin gasped before stealing herself. "The Fentons are dead."
"I know the Fentons are dead." Talia circled the girl. "One split navel to throat, the other strangled. What. Happened?"
"The Fentons discovered their son was a Meta. Specifically, they thought he had been replaced with the extradimentional species they study." She took a deep breath. "By the time I had discovered their actions, Daniel was... dissected on a table."
Talia closed her eyes. She knew from Yasmin's reports that she'd been acting as the Fenton child's primary caretaker since her adoption and a fondness had developed. "Yasmin-"
"Don't, Mother." She snapped. "Don't act like this is anything less than a tragedy."
"I know-"
"He was a child-"
"Everything's been taken care of," Talia said. "As far as the authorities are concerned, Jasmine Fenton died in that explosion you caused. You need to return now-"
"No!" Yasmin bolted to her feet, glaring at Talia. "He's dead, Mother! An innocent child, the child I raised as my own, is dead because I couldn't protect him! Don't you dare try to sweep this under the rug like... like Danny was something shameful! I'm not leaving! I have to-"
Time Out.
Yasmin shut her mouth mid-sentence, giving Talia time to convince her off her self-destructive path.
"What happened to Daniel is a tragedy, Yasmin. But wallowing in grief and what-ifs only leads to further pain." Talia sighed. "The Fentons and the research you were so fascinated with are gone now. You made sure of that. It's time for you to return home and put that knowledge to use."
Yasmin stared down at her hands. Odd that Talia hadn't noticed, but Yasmin's hands cradled a small, dark blue jewel, polished into a smooth, oblong oval. It glittered under the candlelight, like stars in the sky.
Yasmin swallowed the rock and spoke, refusing to acknowledge what she'd just done. "You are right, Mother. The time of Jasmine Fenton is gone now." She stared straight at Talia, no trace of fear in her gaze. For a moment, Talia wondered where her child had gone. Yasmin never met her eyes unless prompted to when she was growing up. Now she was met with a younger version of herself with cheap dyed-red hair, with the same level of determination that made Talia the Right Hand of the Demon Head. "I will mourn for Danny... on my own time. For now, what is my mission?"
Talia studied her daughter. There was a reason why she'd hidden the girl so far out of the way of her Father and her son. Yasmin was a strong fighter, but had her father's heart, despite her willingness to kill. She'd always reminded Talia of a bodyguard rather than an assassin, but Yasmin wanted to go her own way, wanted to study everything. For years, Talia had indulged her daughter, but now it was time for her to return to the fold.
"For the next month, you will be training to remove any weakness the Fentons may have left in you. After that, you will be guarding an ally for me."
"Which ally?"
"A boy a few years older than you, a son of the Bat." Yasmin didn't react to the mention of her father. Good. "His mind is infirm, but by the time you finish your training, he will be ready to strike a blow against Gotham. You will act as his guard during his training and act as my spy while he's in Gotham. Do you understand?"
For a moment, Yasmin's hand brushed her stomach before she forced her fists to her sides. "Yes, Mother. I will do as you ask."
712 notes
·
View notes
space cadet.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word Count: 831 words
Warnings: None
reverie (noun): a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream
You imagine the thoughts in your head as a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea: dense, beautiful, brimming with life and all too easy to get lost in.
They’ve caused you trouble in the past. Countless rapped knuckles, letters sent home to your parents, walking into trees on the way home from school. But how could you resist? Empires rose and fell over the course of an hour inside your mind, mighty beasts swore their allegiance to you and the four seas were yours to explore. The childhood you had in the real world was so dull and lonely in comparison.
When you ran off and joined the Straw Hats, you finally had the excitement you had so craved. And yet, even now, your mind still wanders.
“If you swab the deck any more, we won’t have any left, sweetheart.”
Only a select few can bring you back.
You blink rapidly, the clouds dissipating as you stop scrubbing and look up. Sanji’s already smiling when you meet his gaze.
He lifts his hands; one offers a plate of shortbread cookies, the other a glass of milk.
“I’m going to guess that you haven’t had a break in a while,” he says. “Am I right?”
A break? Sending him a perplexed frown, you lean on the handle of your scrub brush and glance over your shoulder.
The side on which you had started winks back at you from afar, wood gleaming under the afternoon sun.
Oh.
“I … I guess so,” you reply slowly, turning back to him. It’s only then that you register the saltwater washing over your feet and the ache in your muscles. “I didn’t even realize …”
He shakes his head and chuckles, leading you to some nearby crates to sit down. “Too caught up in your stories again? I’m almost jealous that they get to spend so much time with you.”
“I don’t mean to make you worry.”
“Loving someone means worrying about them from time to time.”
He winks, and you smile, flustered.
“I see,” you say quietly. “Then thank you for worrying, Sanji.”
“Of course.” He hands you the glass of milk, then picks up a cookie and taps it against your lips. “Now, this is my best batch of sablés. You have no idea how hard it was to keep Luffy from eating them all in the kitchen.”
“I have some idea,” you drawl amusedly, taking a bite.
The cookie breaks with a gentle snap. It crumbles delightfully in your mouth, sugar and butter dancing on your tongue. A pleased hum rumbles in your throat before you wash it down with a gulp of cold milk.
“What do you think?”
“I think I might eat the whole plate right now,” you say, taking the other half of the cookie.
He grins. “So you like them.”
“They’re delicious.” Picking up another one, you hold it in front of his face. “Here.”
Sanji’s gaze remains locked with yours as he leans forward to take a bite of the cookie, his lips brushing your fingertips in an impromptu kiss before he pulls away. He chews thoughtfully. The action should not look as good as it does.
“My best batch, as I’ve said,” he tells you once he swallows. “But I’ve tasted sweeter.”
You tilt your head. “Where?”
His mouth curls into a smirk, and he places his fingers under your chin to bring your face closer to his. Your noses touch and you can feel his answer against your lips as he murmurs, “Right here.”
The rest of the crew may also have the pleasure of eating Sanji’s food, but they do not share your privilege of knowing just how talented he is at kissing.
He sets down the plate and lifts his hand to cup your jaw, meeting your lips and letting out a soft sigh before pressing his lips more fervently against yours. You can taste the smoke on his tongue, a constant underneath the warm sweetness of sugar and the saltiness of butter. Your eyes flutter closed, and you reach up to cradle the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly. The groan he lets out sends tingles down to the tips of your toes.
“Sweetheart,” he pants, and the longing in his voice would’ve made your knees buckle if you were standing, “I won’t be able to stop if you keep doing that.”
You put your glass of milk down so you can bury both hands in his golden hair. Your forehead touches his. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Maybe it is,” he mutters.
You bring him back in for another searing kiss that Sanji returns just as eagerly.
Yes, you value your time alone with your thoughts. They are a forest of kelp at the bottom of the sea, beautiful, countless, and wild.
But as easy as it is to get lost in your thoughts, it is infinitely easier to get lost in him.
1K notes
·
View notes
Sitting in a pretty white dress, sipping wine, and cackling over the fact that Dick beat Dean Winchester in the Eldest Sibling Tournament.
Planting flowers in my garden, wiping the sweat from my brow, and cackling over the fact that Dick wasn't allowed to compete in DC's sexiest man contest because he's too pretty and would win.
Going out on the porch late at night, gazing at the constellations, and cackling over the fact that an airport baggage handler held Dan DiDio's luggage hostage in exchange for Dick's safety.
Kicking off my slippers, snuggling down in bed, and cackling over the fact that Robin Dick resurged and thrived amongst Tim and Damian's Robin runs.
362 notes
·
View notes