#hadnothing

blue eyes watch the moving bodies across the grass below, watching the flurry of colors of their clothes. the ones with their heads tipped back in laughter. she’s been watching them for so many years now, it’s become ingrained in her. melanie bird and her nest of mutant baby birds! the joke’s been floating around here almost as long as Summerland’s been open to them all. more often than not, they do become like her children, all of them as she gets to know them over years. they are her purpose, her legacy.

David, Ptonomy, and milk in Legion: Chapter 2.

What I love about my big cousin, Zee.

She’s funny, sweet, and gorgeous--I mean look at us Zataras. We’re the full package. We got lucky.

Any man would be lucky to be with her!

Side note her choice in men are trash but that’s ok once I convince her to hook up with Bruce Wayne she’ll be set for life.

She’s the greatest and most entertaining magician there is ( besides me ofc ) and she’s so powerful--I’m proud to admit I look up to her.

“----but maybe we can get away with it,” John says, reaching up to take her hands in his own - and for a moment it’s like they’re young again, able and willing to being whisked away on some adventure that’ll outlive them. He’s got that crisp grin with the fresh breath caught between his teeth, the one that makes his chest swell with anticipation, with vigor, with that persuasive energy that could make anyone believe anything. 

He’s thought about this; the magic, the universe, the... everything. It’s selfish to even crawl back all these years for another go, but, sod it - why not? Why should this be the one thing that John Constantine gives up on?

“Come with me, Zee.” He kisses her forehead, eyes soft, eyes bright. He loves her - that’s never changed.

     Ah hell nah. This was supposed to be her off-day, one where she could relax and just pamper herself; have a pleasant day with friends. And yet here she was, with some sort of metal scrap that wanted to disturb her peace and quiet. As Bella Donna spoke, she glanced over her shoulder to look at her for a moment. She seemed ready, prepared for the worst despite this not being her business at all. It was something she could respect.

     ❛ Nah, hon. Jobs pay... but somethin’ like that. ❜  It sure did feel like a day-job more than anything with all the work she put into it. ❛ Help me clear the perimeter. If this junk bag keeps goin’ like this, people might get hurt, ❜  she instructed. Starting to fly above ground, she gathered her strength as she looked at the metal scrap. ❛ Go! Ah’ll distract him. ❜

     It was better that she wasn’t tired out when the battle was to reach an end. Rogue may have the brawn and durability, but at the end of the day, Bella Donna was the better fighter; more tactical, cunning, than she. She needed her prepared.

Well. 

His hair, usually perfectly maintained was matted and covered in debris, there was blood trickling down his forehead from a cut near his hairline and his shirt was torn open. Several deep looking gashes in his chest looked like they needed stitches. His eyes had a glassy quality to them that Peter knew far too well. He’d been drugged.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” He’d said. 

“What happened?” Peter demanded, moving to help him inside, to get him to the bathroom, to try and stitch up whatever he could. “Who the hell did this to you?”

Who the hell could?