#He was on deaths door and still looked good

[secret-moonstruck]

STUCK ON ME | Y.JW | PART 2

— Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader | Part 01 | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: When Y/N was with her friend, Jungwon became jealous and possessive. He decided to show who Y/N belonged to. .

— Genre: smut, Horror, bloody

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, cum eating, overstimulation, gore, death, blood, torture, kidnapping, more. .

Warning: The content may be dangerous. Read at your own discretion.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

A few weeks have passed since Y/N met Jungwon, at first it was a bit difficult, but now she was getting used to the situation.

She had gone out for drinks with some people from the publishing house to celebrate the sales of her book, among them was Hyun, he was the cute guy who worked there and he always showed interest in Y/N, whenever she went to the publishing house he tried to please her.

When they left the bar, they decided to walk a bit. He was a little drunk and started confessing to Y/N again.

- Why don't you go out with me? - He said, stopping suddenly and turning her towards him.

Before Y/N could say anything, he disappeared. She saw him a short distance away in the alley next door, pinned against the wall with a furious Jungwon choking him.

- What the hell is this? What the hell are you doing? - She ran towards them. - Let him go now, Jungwon.

She ordered, she knew he couldn't disobey an order from her, she had already witnessed how it caused some kind of horrible pain.

However, he didn't let him go; he suffocated him until his body fell to the ground unconscious.

Y/N thought he had killed him, and out of fear, she ended up fainting.

Upon waking up, she still felt a bit dazed, looked around, and saw that she was in some kind of abandoned warehouse. She saw Jungwon sitting on a table reading a book calmly, but when he lowered the book and smiled at her, his face and clothes were covered in blood.

She looked around desperately and saw Hyun unconscious, bloodied, and tied up in a corner of the room.

- Did you kill him? - She asked in despair.

Jungwon rolled his eyes before putting down the book and getting off the table.

- Not yet, my dear. Maybe, if you are very nice, I'll let him live.

He approached Hyun and kicked him to wake him up.

- Where is Y/N? Please, let us go. - Hyun said as soon as he woke up, further irritating Jungwon.

- Who or what do you think you are to try to steal something that is mine? - He lifted him up before throwing him back to the ground.

- Please stop. He is innocent, he didn't do anything. I am yours, okay, you know, you always remind me of that. He has nothing to do with us, let him go. - Y/N pleaded.

A horrible pain coursed through Jungwon's entire body for disobeying her, but it only enraged him even more; she was causing him pain to protect that worm.

Jungwon approached her, lowering himself to her level with a smile that frightened her.

- I know you are mine, but it seems he doesn't know yet, and you seem to have forgotten. - He squeezed her neck, making her stand up. - Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, and show this nothing that you only have one owner.

Still with his hands on her neck, he pulled her face for a kiss full of anger.

- Now, how about you being a good girl? - He pushed her away, and as if it were nothing, dragged the table to where she was.

- Don't touch her, or I'll kill you. - Hyun shouted.

Jungwon went up to him and gagged him, he wanted to kill him, but not before displaying her, not before showing who she belongs to.

Leaning against the table, he ordered her to come closer, she obeyed out of fear.

- Suck me, like the good slut you are, show him what he'll never have.

Trembling, Y/N did as he commanded, kneeling in front of him. She tried to open his pants, but she was trembling too much. He got irritated and took off his clothes by himself, his cock already hard, waiting to be sucked.

Y/N looked at Hyun, who was struggling to break free, before turning their attention back to Jungwon.

With tears in her eyes, she touched him, pumping it before running her tongue over the tip covered with pre-cum, eliciting a moan from him. She licked his length a few times before putting it in her mouth, starting to suck it, but he needed more, he pushed everything in, making her gag.

Jungwon held her by the hair while pushing deep into her throat. The sight of her crying, choking on his cock, excited him even more; he pulled out of her lips and came all over her face.

- Come here dear. - He said, helping her to stand up and bringing her closer to Hyun. He pushed her in front of him, holding her face firmly to confront Hyun.

- Isn't she beautiful covered in my cum? - He smiled frighteningly as he said that.

- Do you know how she becomes more beautiful? When she's moaning desperately for me to fuck her. - Upon saying this, he bit Y/N's neck.

Y/N shuddered at the initial pain of the bite, but soon it was exactly as he wanted, moans escaping her lips mixed with her heavy breathing. Her legs tightening as she began to feel aroused.

Hyun looked horrified as Jungwon drank Y/N's blood. Jungwon easily tore her dress, and did the same with her underwear, before running his fingers over Y/N's pussy.

- You really are a slut, how can you already be so wet? You really get turned on by having your blood sucked, don't you?

Desperate moans escaped Y/N's lips as Jungwon's fingers worked on her pussy. She no longer cared about anything else, she just wanted more.

- Yes, yes, please, Jungwon, I love this, more, please.

Despite being scared, Hyun was starting to get excited seeing Y/N in that state. It was wrong, everything there was wrong, but he couldn't help it.

- Look Y/N, he likes what he sees. - Jungwon continued his movements while rubbing her clitoris with his other hand. - Come on, darling, cum for me already, let's go.

She shuddered, Jungwon's voice both sweet and venomous pushing her to orgasm, she came on his fingers, just as he wanted.

He raised his hand, displaying it with a smile before licking his fingers, while moaning in pleasure.

Y/N knew it wasn't over yet, Jungwon picked her up, she was still trembling when he set her down on the table.

He saw her tired face, her eyes red from crying. He wiped her face, which was still covered in his cum.

- You don't know how beautiful you look like this, all messed up. - He said, caressing her face. His fingers running over her face and neck. - It just makes me want you even more.

He said before biting her again, while pushing his painful cock into her wet pussy.

Y/N gasped in surprise when she felt him enter her so suddenly. If it weren't for him holding her, she would have already collapsed on the table while he mercilessly pounded inside her, the sound echoing through the room.

- J... Jungwon, please! I want, I need. - Y/N was begging for their liberation.

Hearing Y/N's pleas, Jungwon couldn't hold back and came, painting the inside of Y/N, who not long after also reached their orgasm.

Jungwon pulled away from Y/N, watched for a few seconds as her pussy leaked before starting to lick it, holding her thighs firmly. While sucking every drop, his claws tore into Y/N's thighs, who screamed with a mix of pain and pleasure, still very sensitive from the previous orgasm. She buckled, trembling, when she came again, this time more intensely than the others, covering Jungwon's face, who savored every drop before releasing her with an arrogant smile, while Y/N collapsed on the table, her breath still uneven.

She had already forgotten about Hyun, but when she remembered and looked in his direction, her eyes widened in panic.

Jungwon, already dressed, was holding Hyun by the neck with his hand inside his chest.

- No! - Y/N shouted, a desperate scream, a scream that caused an unbearable pain in Jungwon, he had already endured too much pain disobeying her that night.

With a quick movement, Jungwon pulled his hand back, covered in blood, with Hyun's heart in it. Blood splattering across his face, while the most terrifying smile Y/N could imagine was on his face.

He threw Hyun's body to the ground and went to Y/N. The pain of disobedience was torturous, but the anger was greater.

- This is so you never forget that you belong solely to me. - He held her by the shoulders. - And remember that I will never allow you to get close to any man again. I am the only one for whom you should exist. You are mine, and you must never forget that.

The panic that was etched on Y/N's face was replaced by a dark smile, which left Jungwon confused.

- What? Why are you smiling? - He said, releasing her.

Y/N pulled Jungwon close, tilting their head while still smiling.

- You look so sexy like this. - She pushed him away while assessing how he was covered in blood, eyes shining, his expression full of rage. She loved it.

- Y/N said while getting dressed. - Just thinking about having to put up with him every time I entered that building. Aaaah, so annoying.

Jungwon was confused, why was she acting like this when just a moment ago she was crying for him to spare Hyun?

- You know, Jungwon, I was kind of missing the feeling from when we first met, how you seemed so cruel that night. I wanted to see that side of you again, so I decided to combine two useful things. I could have fun and also get rid of something annoying.

- You are a psychopath. - Jungwon didn't know if he found her scary or amazing.

- Oh, no, of course not. I'm just a defenseless woman trapped by a sadistic vampire. - She said with a false fear on her face before approaching him with a smile and kissing him.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

[sentientthing]

Reader adopts a big fluffy dog that's very opinionated, when and where walks happen is entirely the dogs decision. It's a good dog, perfectly pleasant but thick headed as a bull. Demands pets with authority a dog has no business having.

They love that mutt, got it from a shelter and doesn't have the heart to take charge when being a bit bossy is the only 'misbehavior' the dog ever shows, until it's walkie time in the middle of the night, new moon and cloudy, pitch black. Resigned you get the harness, leash and treat bag and bundle up. In a hurry to get the head of the house their wish you forget any kind of light, left your phone on your bedside table when you heard the grumbles of demands.

It seems to be a night for adventure, leash pulled taught in a direction you've never even walked by daylight and nose glued to the floor. The gates to a park at least let you know where you're going, not that you recognize the name, its far out of your usual range especially in the middle of the night. You cope by clinging to the 'scary dog privilege' even though the mutt never showed an ounce of aggression towards anything.

Looking around to not get caught off guard by a malicious stranger you miss your dog perking up, fixating a direction and taking off, the "STOP" leaves your mouth the second your body is jostled but its no use. You're dragged across the park, thankfully mostly grass but it still hurts. Digging your feet in is no use, hopelessly outmatched by the dog the shelter told you was perfectly sized for you. "Manageable my ass you stupid dog stop running!", you scream no care for time of day when you come to an abrupt halt, sliding a little on the muddy ground until someone grabs the leash and is immediately crowded by the traitor. All wags and tip taps, it'd be adorable if you weren't on your ass god knows where thanks to him.

"Bad dog thief if you can't even train one.", you can't place the tone, or read the strangers face through his balaclava. Thief? You would never steal someones beloved pet. "Fuck you, I'm no thief. He's from a shelter, if I wanted a free dog I'd get a stray." The amount of awkward eye contact that followed made your skin crawl, you shivered in discomfort from your mud caked clothes to the scary stranger starring you down. Was he not going to react at all? Your attitude had always been your biggest flaw. Why couldn't the floor just open up and swallow you whole? You were going to die for mouthing off for sure, or worse. "C'mon boy, home.", he was looking at you but definitely talking to the dog, voice even as he yankes you up by the leash and herds you after the dog happily trotting the way it came. Oh no, your dog was going to YOUR home, backtracking through the park, mindful of the grooves he, or rather you, left. Caring about tripping you now, between treating you like a crash dummy and a lamb to the slaughter.

The streetlights flickered back on one by one, the silent man at your back cast eerie shadows over you every time you passed one. You could barely breath, fear clogged your throat, choking you. Running was out of the question, he would catch you, no doubt in your mind. You didn't dare think about what your- well, his dog really would do. He might even be trained to bite, maul you to bits for the crime of displeasing his master. Tears threatened to spill over your lashes at the thought, you blinked them away as hard as you could, whatever he thought of you now wouldn't be improved by turning into a sobbing mess. No crying about whatever this was, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you dissolve, if he wanted to he would crush you either way.

Your front door looked like a guillotine, the slanted window that once charmed you now made your stomach turn. You fumbled with the keys, hands shaking in helplessness. When they slipped your grasp, a gloved hand reaches out from behind you and catches them, palm up, the keys to your doom cradled in the hand of death. Slowly, you lifted your hand to take the keys back. The thought to stab him with them crossed your mind, but you had no follow-up. You stretched your fingers towards the house key. The next moment, you were crowded against the door and heard the keys jingle. The hinges protest when the door swung open. Unsteady legs carry you inside, mechanically taking off the harness and hanging the gear up in the dog corner.

The door clicks shut, and you refuse to acknowledge it in any way. Frozen in place, no useful thoughts in your head, your mind was screaming to do something anything at all. Time trickled by you in slow motion, for the first time you heard footsteps that weren't yours on your living room floor, the clicky noise of dog paws soon followed. Sounds from the kitchen startle you back into thought. That's where your knives are. He could take the damn fridge for all you cared right now, but you were not getting stabbed by knives you had picked out and paid for without a fight.

The sound of water hitting something metal had you confused, that weirdo did not follow you home to fill his dogs water bowl, that would be insane, and yet a few seconds later the water is being gobbled up loudly.

Something fills with water again, you're still looking at the slow swinging leash on the hook.

The stove beeps, the glasstop clinks quietly, something was placed on it.

Nails on the floor tell you the dog is scampering towards you, probably dripping water all the way. Soft fur brushes your fingers accompanied by the wet nose and tongue licking your hand. "You broken, pet?", leaning against the wall as nonchalant as the question he asked. The nickname had you glancing at the dog for a second before it clicked - this fucking guy dragged you around on a leash and called you pet like it was a normal thing to do.

You turned to give him a piece of your mind, freezing again when you saw him in the light. He'd been scary outside, dressed entirely in dark clothes and towering over you like a bad omen. In the light he looked downright terrifying, the skull print balaclava blending with his eye black, equally dark eyes looking at you with a bored expression, you had to guess. Good thing you hadn't tried anything, he looked perfectly able and willing to really hurt you. Not like how your bruised body ached from being dragged, real agony that would rip through you and fray every nerve you had. You were once again starring at each other, him waiting for a reply and you desperately trying to keep it together, whether you'd laugh or cry or attack him you didn't dare guess but something was boiling over.

The kettle whistles - you burst into a fit of nervous giggles.

[rose24207]

Like a kiss

Summary: after coming to terms that his girlfriend is a ghost, a new routine builds.

Genre: fluff

Lando x ghost!f!reader

TW: mention of death

A/N: get ready for a new series!! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist pt. 2

The soft hum of morning filled the apartment as Lando shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, before grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

"Morning, love," he said casually, his voice still rough with sleep.

The kitchen light flickered once, and Lando smiled to himself. He knew what that meant: good morning.

It had been almost a year since Y/N passed, and Lando had gone through every stage of grief imaginable. There were nights when the loneliness was unbearable, and mornings when the silence was deafening. But then she started making her presence known—little things at first, like the lights flickering or her favorite mug being moved to the counter.

It scared him at first, thinking he was losing his mind. But over time, he realized it wasn’t just wishful thinking. She was still here, in her own way, and they had developed a rhythm that felt almost normal.

"Coffee or tea today?" he asked, glancing toward the light fixture.

The light flickered twice. Tea.

"Tea it is," he said, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water.

As he waited for it to boil, he leaned against the counter, looking around the apartment. It was still very much the same as when Y/N was alive—her touch was everywhere, from the throw pillows on the couch to the photo frames on the walls. He couldn’t bring himself to change much.

"You know," Lando said, his voice filling the quiet space, "I think I'm getting better at this whole cooking thing. Carlos and Max came over the other day, and they actually liked the pasta I made."

The light flickered once, and he laughed. "I know, right? Shocking. I didn’t even burn the garlic this time."

The kettle whistled, and Lando poured the hot water over the tea bag in her favorite mug. He set it on the counter across from his coffee, the same way he used to when they’d have breakfast together.

"I have media duties later," he said, sitting down at the counter. "You’d hate it. Same questions over and over again. ‘How do you feel about the car?’ ‘What’s your strategy for the weekend?’ Blah, blah, blah."

The light flickered twice quickly, and Lando grinned. "Exactly. It’s so boring."

He sipped his coffee, glancing at the chair across from him. It was empty, of course, but he could almost picture her sitting there, wrapped in one of his hoodies, her hair still messy from sleep.

"You know," he said softly, "I think about you all the time. Sometimes it feels like you’re just in the other room, and if I wait long enough, you’ll walk out and tell me I’m being lazy."

The light flickered once, and he smiled, though his chest ached.

After finishing his coffee, he rinsed the mug and set it in the sink. He grabbed his keys and wallet from the counter and paused by the door.

"Alright, I’m heading out," he said, turning back toward the apartment. "Don’t cause too much trouble while I’m gone."

The lights flickered twice, and Lando chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you later."

Later that evening, Lando returned home, the day’s exhaustion settling in his bones. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag by the door, running a hand through his curls.

"I’m home!" he called out, the words instinctual.

The lamp in the living room flickered, and he smiled.

Dinner was a simple affair—just leftovers from the night before. As he ate, he talked about his day, recounting funny moments from the track and updates from the team. It was a one-sided conversation, but the occasional flicker of the lights or soft creak of the floorboards reminded him that she was listening.

After dinner, he cleaned up and settled on the couch with a blanket. He turned on the TV, flipping through channels until he landed on a Series they used to love watching together.

"Look," he said, holding up the remote. "It’s Teen Wolf. Your favorite."

The lamp flickered twice, and Lando laughed. "Alright, my second favorite. But you liked it enough to watch it a million times with me."

He sank into the couch, the familiar intro of the Series playing in the background. It was almost like old times—the glow of the TV, the soft warmth of the blanket, and the comforting feeling of not being alone.

As the fourth episode that evening ended, Lando stretched, his limbs heavy with sleep. He turned off the TV and stood, heading toward the bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, the bedside lamp casting a soft glow over the space. Lando changed into his pajamas and slid under the covers, letting out a content sigh.

"Goodnight, love," he murmured, his eyes already closing.

The lamp flickered once, and for a moment, he swore he felt the faintest brush of warmth against his cheek—like a kiss.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he drifted off to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that she was still there, watching over him.

It wasn’t the life they had planned, but it was theirs, and in its own way, it was enough.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris

[k0nanharv3y]

Tim Is A Wayne. AU

Au where Tim joins the batfam early but decides to have a simple life

Most "Tim joins the batfam early" fics end with Jason never going to Ethiopia and Tim becoming Robin while Jason becomes Flamebird or Red Hood. And I'm usually fine with that

But

Listen to me carefully

What if... What if Tim doesn't become Robin? 😦😦😦😦😦

LISTEN TO ME

PUT DOWN THAT ROCK

So... yeah, the kid likes to run around Gotham and take pictures, but let's be honest, Tim is an amateur, the only times he plays the hero are to protect himself or because the situation requires it

So... Tim keeps "sneaking" around to take pictures of Batman and Robin, and I say "sneaking" because even if he walked out the door it wouldn't change the fact that everyone already knows. And Tim doesn't want to become Robin, in canon he never wanted to be Robin, but Batman needed a Robin, but since Jason never died, then Tim doesn't have to become Robin

Do you get my point?

No? I don't care

There are two paths here, Tim becomes a spy for the Bats and now takes pictures of villains and deals in illegal stuff and... Well, he's an Oracle but physical (SOMEONE GIVE ME TIM A SPY, I AM BEGGING YOU) and now he has backup in case he falls off a building or someone notices him, and now he has equipment that doesn't consist of black clothes and worn out sneakers, but he never becomes a vigilante who fights bad guys, he's... Natasha Romanoff but without the fighting skills

And the other way... Tim... has a normal life 😦😦😦😦😦😦😦 as normal as being Bruce Wayne's son would allow him, he goes to school even though he's ahead, he has two brothers who love him and are willing to kill/die for him, he has Alfred (which, being the only member who doesn't stay up all night hitting people, he appreciates him and teaches him things about life [TIM KNOWS HOW TO COOK LIKE ALFRED, SOMEONE, I BEG YOU TO GIVE ME THAT] and among all his grandchildren, Tim is the favorite). And he has Bruce, who is a good father and is thrilled that one of his sons didn't take his path and is safe at home :D

Here are two more paths from "Tim Joining The Batfam Early" and that is... Jason's Death. It didn't happen: It's a lot of what you read above, not a lot of changes and that's fine. And... Jason does die

But Bruce doesn't get another Robin and Tim doesn't become Robin because his brother just died in that suit... a lot of Angst there. And Bruce doesn't break down because his family won't let him, he can't break down because his other son needs him. And when Jason comes back the first thing he wants to do is see his little brother

And there's plenty of angst there for them to feed on

But let's leave the angst aside, let's get to the fun part

Jason never dies and Tim is kidnapped

Option A) Tim stays silent as he waits for whoever comes to get him out of here, staring at anyone who passes by

Option B) He unties himself and escapes to the roof, waiting for whoever is coming for him to appear

Tim finishes high school and goes to Ivy University and is accepted with a scholarship and the family is happy

Tim welcomes Damian with open arms because he always wanted a little brother (he wanted to stop being treated like the baby of the family, please, he's 15 now) and Damian wants to hate this kid because it seems like everyone in the family loves him, but he's the person who gives the most stability to the mansion and the family and he's the one who convinced Bruce to let him have a cat

Tim is still the smartest of the 3 brothers, he helps out with whatever he can, Superboy has a weird crush on him, he solves all of Nygma's riddles and brags about it on social media, he does his internships at WE but not out of necessity but because it's his father's company. Ra's has his eye on him for some reason ????? But fuck everyone, Ra's looks at him too much and his family will make sure that's the last thing he does

And Tim... he lives a normal life. He goes to college, he has friends outside of the masks, he is loved and he loves and... It's okay

And WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT IS THIS THOUGHT???? TIM BECOMING RED HOOD????????? WHAT?????? that's another post, lol

[i-dared-myself]

Heads

Hyunjin x reader

Requested ‘sequal’ of this.

In which your hopeless romantic blunders come to an end

18+

After another terrible date, you stumble into your apartment. You barely manage to kick your shoes off before you sink to the floor and cry.

Is there really no one decent out there? Why do your dates feel the need to point out your flaws? Why are they all such assholes?

You dump your purse next to the door, along with your jacket. It’s future-you’s problem, and future-you is going to call now-you a bitch.

You remove your makeup, and return to your living room. Turning on a stupid romantic film is what you need right now, so you do it.

You gather your pyjamas and bring them to your living room, peeking at the television. The love interest has the protagonist in his arms, and this is what you need in your life.

But alas, you only attract morons, apparently.

“I could offer you a deal.”

You whip around, shrieking in alarm. The man grimaces, covering his ears with his hands.

“Who the fuck are you?” you demand. Your eyes flick to the kitchen, where your knives are (obviously) located.

“Hyunjin.” He offers you a small bow, lips tugging up at the corners. His dark red hair falls around his face before he tucks it back, eyes glinting. “Love god, at your service.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Really? Prove it.”

He seems taken aback, and frowns slightly. “Prove it? How?”

“I dunno.” You shrug and take a miniature step to the kitchen. “You’re the love god.”

Hyunjin rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, considering your words for a moment. “I don’t need this contract.”

“Contract? Are the you devil or a love god?” You snort and shake your head. As you feign amusement, you continue to shuffle backwards.

Hyunjin entwines his fingers behind his back, cocking his head. “I��ve been called both. And I don’t think I need to prove myself to you. You’re the one who’s lonely and unloved.”

You wince. “Harsh. Okay fine, what do you have for me?”

He chuckles, gliding forwards until his chest is a hair’s width away from yours. If you take a deep breath they would brush together.

“I can give you undying affection and passion unlike anything in those… tasteless movies.” Hyunjin flashes the television a look of disdain before returning his attention to you. He lifts a hand to lean it on the wall next to your head, leaning even closer. “What do you say?”

You swallow thickly. What he’s suggesting is everything you’ve ever wanted.

“And what do I have to do in exchange?” You gaze up, right into his eyes. They’re half-lidded and his eyelashes frame his gorgeous eyes.

“Nothing.” Hyunjin smiles wryly. His other hand is brought up to gently caress your cheek. “Just a small, teeny-tiny, little thing.”

“What is it?” 

His lips part to speak, and you barely hear the words coming out of his mouth. But you do. And they cut through the haze in your head.

“You have to play a bit of a game with me,” he simply says. “Doesn’t that seem like fun? Then you can have your happily ever after.”

“What kind of game?” you ask him warily as he spins around and drapes himself across your couch. The knife is forgotten and the only thing at the forefront of your focus is what he could give you.

“We flip a coin. If it’s tails, you get your true love. If it’s heads, you die.” Hyunjin looks smug and pleased with himself. He holds a hand up, and a coin gleams between two elegant fingers.

“I… die?” you repeat. Suddenly this doesn’t seem like such a good idea. 

“Well, there’s a chance you’ll survive.” His expression shifts and he looks away. He’s still toying with the coin. “Anyone I kiss dies. It’s ironic, considering who I am. The only one that can survive, is-“

“Death,” you finish. “Love-hate relationship with them? I get it.”

Hyunjin blinks. “What? No. Don’t interrupt me, either.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, not wanting to risk his wrath. Does he only kill people by kissing them? Or does he also stab them? Either way, you don’t want it.

“The only one who can survive is my true love.” Hyunjin curls his fingers to get you to approach, patting the couch next to him. “Ready?”

You hesitantly sit, watching as he flips the coin. It lands on the table and you both peer down at it.

“Heads,” Hyunjin croons, slowly raising his gaze to yours. He scoots closer to you as your heart sinks.

“Get it over with.” You sigh and cast a hateful look at the coin.

Hyunjin’s hand comes to the back of your head, cradling it gently. He pulls you closer to him, his grip firm and his lips soft as they lower to yours.

You kiss him back, because why not? You have nothing to lose at this point.

His head moves and his lips part. You accept his tongue slipping into your mouth as he guides you down until your back hits the couch cushions.

Then he’s hovering above you, eyes wide. You’re waiting for the inevitable end. The last thing you’ll see is his stupidly pretty face, and you can’t be mad about it.

“You’re not dead,” he observes.

“You’re smarter than you look,” you tease, mind reeling with what this means.

If you’re not dead, and he’s surprised at this fact…

“I’ve looked for you for so long,” Hyunjin whispers and buries his face against your neck. His teeth graze the skin there. “Can I fuck you, please?”

Your breath hitches. “What?”

“Please?” he begs. “I’ll make it so no other man can pleasure you. None of those shitty men will make you happy like I can.”

You hum. Maybe this a little hasty, but you’re just glad you’re not dead.

“Words, pretty girl.” Hyunjin lifts you into his arms.

“Yes, you can fuck me,” you tell him. Then you’re being dumped on a bed of smooth sheets. “What the-“

“This is my room.” He gestures around to your surroundings. There are paintings hanging on the walls and big windows that overlook… clouds? 

“Okay then,” is all you can say. 

Hyunjin grins and snaps his fingers, and then suddenly your clothes are gone. His have been removed as well, and he crawls across the bed to stare down at you.

“No other men are like me,” he promises silkily. A finger is plunged into you, quickly followed by another. You fist the sheets at the stretch, feeling him scissor them out.

“Please.” You grind down on his hand. “Please, Hyunjin!”

He coos and runs his hands through your hair. “Oh, you’re not cumming until I say.”

“Why?” You gasp as his fingers in your hair tighten and wrench your head up. “Hyunjin!”

“Face down, ass up, pretty girl.” Hyunjin manipulates you into the position he wants. He sighs heavily and tosses his head back. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

You moan as he enters you, squeezing around him. You claw at the sheets as he rolls his hips experimentally. “Just-“

He shushes you as he thrusts. Strands of his hair stick to his face. “Gonna marry you and everything.”

You squirm back against him. “Y-Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Hyunjin reaches down to circle your clit. “I’ll fill you up anytime you want. You’ll be like this every day, just for me.”

“Just for you,” you agree. You can feel yourself flutter around him as he continues muttering. You’re getting closer and closer.

Hyunjin forces your back into an arch, at just the angle he wants. This way, his thrusts hit the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and you’re babbling out pleas to cum. 

“I wanna see that face as you cum.” He presses harder to your clit, grinding hard against you. “I bet it’s just as pretty as the rest of you.”

Your mouth falls open as you fall over the edge. He works you through it, thrusts stuttering until he spills deep inside you.

Hyunjin pulls out, smiling at you gently. His hair frames his face as sweat shines on his body. “I’ll clean you up, then get you some water.”

You blink dazedly. “Sure. And cuddles.”

He stretches out, waving a hand to form robes on the both of you. “Anything you want, pretty girl.”

Tagslist:

@velvetmoonlght

[notdotspot]

Dp x Dc We Meet Again

Masterpost

Tim was waiting impatiently in his normal corner of the Bat Burger. He finds it difficult to sit still when he is so close to clues about his dreams. Despite his anger at Bruce for benching him, the ten hours of sleep did grant him reprieve from his visions. He thought sleeping would have reawoken the nightmares, but Tim had dreamless sleep for the first time in years. In retrospect, he does not even have clear memories past the forty-eight-hour mark, so his research after that time was nothing but jumbled thoughts. At least now he is not plagued with paranoia and that creature lurking in the outskirts of his vision. He could take the chance to get some fuel in his body, though Damian would argue a burger and fries are not sufficient nutrients for their nighttime activities, and put his rest towards quality investigation. 

The door chimed as new customers walked in. Tim glanced up to see Jason walking towards him. Tim would have directed his attention back to his food if he had not noticed Jason speaking to someone behind them. Leading the mystery person to the table where he was sitting. 

“Trust me he is chill. He might actually be able to help.” Jason’s attention turns to Tim. “I brought someone for you to meet. I do not think he is working for Ras but I think he knows something about the Lazarus Pits.”

“Hi, I am Phantom,” says a boy as he pops out from behind Jason.

Tim freezes the second their eyes meet. Those green eyes sent him right back to the clearing he found himself in four nights ago. The black figure whose whole being radiated fear and death. A glowing green aura and eyes to match. Eyes he has seen a thousand times since his dream. Eyes that were burned onto the back of his eyelids. Eyes that he thought he escaped after sleeping off his exhaustion. Eyes he had nearly chalked up to being a fictional dream and a symptom of delirium. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, but the darkness does not cover the blazing green of those eyes. His ears are ringing and his heart is pounding out of his chest. A firm hand grips his shoulder and his eyes spring open, meeting Jason's clear blue eyes. 

Tim finally registers his voice, “Hey, Timmy! Are you good?”

A voice off to the side speaks quietly, “Is he okay? Should I  leave?”

“No!” Tim forces out, quickly. “Stay. I need answers.”

The boy, Phantom he remembers, hesitantly slides into the booth.

“I can try.”

“What are you?” Tim asks with a bit too much aggression. Jason smacks him on the back of the head. 

“Do not be rude, dipshit. He is willing to help and he does not seem like a threat.”

“Were you not just chasing him through the city earlier?” Tim accuses.

Phantom interrupts, “Yes, but it was all fun and games. I try not to interfere with human realms.”

“So, you are not human?” Tim’s scrutinizing gaze tears through him. Jason goes to slap him again but Tim catches his hand, giving him a dirty look.

“Be nice.”

Tim raises his hands in surrender but his guarded posture remains. “Okay. Okay. Can you, please, queue us in on your existence?” 

“Sure! I am a ghost from a different realm,” he says, casually, “It can not be that crazy. You have a Kryptonian on your planet and he is a ghost, too.” Phantom points at Jason.

“I mean, well, kind of. Not in the same way that I am but he reeks of tainted ectoplasmic residue. He has seen death. I can feel it.” 

“What? I am a ghost?”

Phantom turns to Jason. “Not quite. It is like the difference between fish and aquatic mammals. Ghosts, or for the sake of this analogy fish, survive within water. They rely on it for habitat and food sources, but they also breathe it. You are like an aquatic mammal, you seem to also rely on the water, or ectoplasm, for survival, but you do not breathe it. If my inference is right, you require your human functions to be alive but without ectoplasmic energy, you would unravel. You would be like a beached whale, still alive, but slowly shutting down without water. There is likely a more scientific approach but no way to know for sure without a lab.”

“Cool.” Jason stands from his spot. “Good enough for me. I am getting food. Your usual, Tim?”

“Sure,” Tim says blankly, eyes never leaving Phantom. 

“Anything for you, kid?”

“Not a kid, but I will take a number three. Thank you.” Jason walks around the corner to place the order. Tim’s eyes harden.

“My turn. Why are you haunting me?”

“I am not. Haunting is not a real thing. Just some GIW propaganda to make people subconsciously fear ghosts. A haunt is a ghost’s safe space and a term stolen and twisted by humans,” he replies, cooly. There is a tinge of bitterness in his voice.

“Okay, so why did I see you in my dreams? What is the GIW?”

“The GIW stands for Guys in White. Some secret government organization under the guise of public security. They research and hunt ghosts. To the dream question, I do not know, but I am flattered.”

“I am serious. Night terror level dreams.”

Phantom seemed to soften. “Look, I really do not know. Maybe you had a recent brush with death. Sometimes close encounters wear down the line between our realms. I am sorry. They will go away with time.”

Jason slams the food tray down, sliding into the booth next to Tim. 

“Thank you, uhh?”

“Red Hood,” Tim answers for him, seeing as Jason had already slid back his helmet for a bite of burger. 

“I am Tim.”

They eat silently as Tim and Phantom’s eyes flicker back and forth. Jason finishes quickly, and with his helmet back in place, turns to Phantom.

“So, is the Lazuras Pit ectoplastic?”

“Ectoplasm? Umm. Do you have a picture?”

Tim wipes his hands and grabs his phone. He takes a moment to scroll and type before turning the screen, displaying a picture of a glowing green pit.

“Oh. One hundred percent ectoplasm.”

“Is there a way to fix me? Should I swim in it again?”

“Again? No. You never should have in the first place. It looks dirty. I can infuse you with fresh ectoplasm. With the right amount, it should last you about the same time as a normal human lifespan. I would need a few days to do the calculations and maybe consult some colleagues.” 

“Colleagues?” Jason questions.

“People I know. They would know more than me about ectoplasm specifics. I will make the trip soon.” 

Tim speaks up, having tucked his phone away, “Could you get rid of the Lazarus Pit?”

“I think so. It would need some purification but, theoretically, I could send it back to the ghost zone.”

Tim turns to Jason, “I think you need to brief B. We could solve more than one issue with Phantom’s help.”

Phantom’s phone begins to ring. He pulls it from a pocket that was definitely not there before.

“I have to take this. Thank you for the meal.” He exits the booth, answering the phone. 

“Hey, Frostbite. Perfect timing! I have some questions for you.”

As Phantom neared the door, already engrossed in his conversation, Tim calls out, “How will we contact you?”

“I will find you!”

-----------

Linked the master post bc I am lazy and don't want to link each part individually

I can't stop writing. I am about to get busy with personal work, so updates may slow down. I was posting a chapter a day but I don't know if I can keep up with that as this story gets longer. I will try to find a schedule quickly!

Thank you for reading!

[lost-in-fandoms]

GP is a King and he has a very good Blade. About 1.2k. cw: mentions of blood and death (slightly-but-not-really graphic).

Gianpiero is in the middle of the new tax legislation discussion when one of the nobles falls to the ground with a blade between his ribs.

He isn't expecting it, but he still doesn't flinch, while many of the other nobles jump back with various degrees of surprised or horrified exclamations. One of them goes as far as tripping on his own feet, almost falling to the floor too which, in Gianpiero's opinion, is honestly quite an over-exaggeration.

He ignores them, grabbing another one of the papers on the table and clearing is throat over the sounds of the man choking on his own blood.

He would be quite happy to go back to the negotiations, eager to get this done as soon as possible, but he's obviously not that lucky today.

"Your Majesty!" one of the other nobles calls, sounding outraged.

When Gianpiero looks at him, there's the same degree of outrage on his face too, turned up to the max probably to hide the fear underneath. It's admirable, really, or at least more so than the openly confused and shocked faces of everyone else.

"Yes?" he prompts, when the noble doesn't continue.

"Your Majesty, Count Wimark...."

"Count Wimark is guilty of crimes against the crown," Gianpiero interrupts, steely. He doesn't exactly knows what those crimes are, but the nobles don't need to know that, and those daggers have never found an innocent victim. As soon as he had seen the blue and golden hilt, he had known it was treason.

The noble opens his mouth as if to speak again, which is an impressive show of determination that, in other circumstances, Gianpiero would allow. But as he's wanting to get this finished before dinner, he cuts him off again.

"Do you think knives fly around my halls without my knowledge, or permission?" he presses, before gesturing towards the guards around the room with a sweeping motion. "Or that my guards would be standing there doing nothing?"

"Of course not, Your Majesty, but..."

The man on the floor stops choking, and as he falls silent the other men around the table bring their fingers to their heart, and then to the sky, hopefully guiding his soul upwards. Gianpiero doesn't move.

"Count Wilmark was guilty, and he met his punishment," he reiterates firmly. "Does anyone want to argue with that?"

He looks around the room, giving the nobles a chance to speak, even if he knows nobody will. If anyone knows something, talking would make them guilty too, and if they don't, they can't protest either.

When a minute has passed, Gianpiero turns toward a guard, gesturing to the corpse on the floor.

"Take the body away, and get somebody to clean up, please."

He has to hold back a smirk when the nobles look at the positions of the guards and of the body being dragged away, and realise they have no idea where the dagger came from.

Uneasiness blankets the room for the rest of the negotiations which, much to Gianpiero's satisfaction, end before dinner.

--

Gianpiero closes the door of his chambers behind himself, shutting his servants out, and takes two steps into the rooms before unclasping his cloak with a sigh, letting it fall from his shoulders.

He's already going for the first button of his doublet when he realises he never heard the cloak touch the floor.

He turns around just in time to see Max gently placing it on the chest next to the door, not making a single sound.

Any other ruler would be concerned and terrified upon finding a man between their unarmed selves and the door, with no knowledge of how or when he got there, but Gianpiero isn't any other ruler, and Max isn't any other man.

"So, what had he done?" he asks, skipping any pleasantries, fingers going back to his buttons.

"Doubting me?" Max counters, eyes icy for a second, before they crinkle in a smile when Gianpiero rolls his.

"Just curious."

He hands his doublet to Max, who lays it down on the chest on top of the cloak, but doesn't start on the shirt's strings.

"He stole wheat destined for the castle, overcharged his people, and tried to convince the neighboring Lord to marry his twelve years old daughter to him to merge their counties," Max lists.

Gianpiero raises an eyebrow.

"That's not pleasant, but I didn't know we were punishing tax fraud and being power hungry with death."

Max glares at him, before offering him his hand, a small velvet pouch in his palm.

"I am not stupid," he remarks. Unnecessarily so, since Gianpiero knows better than anyone else just how smart he is.

He doesn't comment on it though, taking the pouch instead and opening it slowly.

"Be careful," Max says softly, offering his palm again for Gianpiero to dump the contents of the small bag in it.

A brooch comes tumbling out, delicate gold wrapping itself around three sparkling blue gems. It's not Gianpiero's style, but it's rather pretty.

"Are we declaring war on accessories?"

Max doesn't deign him of an answer, carefully opening the jewel and tilting it slightly, light catching on the pin. It shines green.

"Ah," Gianpiero breathes out, impressed again, both by the ingenuity of the noble, whom he had believed quite empty-headed before today, and by Max's intelligence. "Poisoned?"

"Cursed," Max says curtly. "He was planning on giving it to you at dinner. Your cloak would have choked you to death."

Gianpiero nods, watching as Max puts the brooch away and makes it disappear somewhere in his pockets. He doesn't fully know what the plan following his death would have been, but he does understand the Count's death better now.

He knows that, if Max had wanted, the Count would have been dead before touching the ground. Piercing his lungs and making him choke in his own blood had been a choice.

He reaches forward, cupping Max's cheek, and watching in amazement as he closes his eyes, leaning into it. The most dangerous and deadly man Gianpiero has ever met, in the palm of his hand. His very own human Blade.

"You did good," he murmurs, and something loosens in Max's shoulders.

No matter how many men Max kills for him, how many secrets he finds, how many times Gianpiero tells him he's his most precious, his most trusted, there's always a part of Max who expects to receive back the same violence he brings to others.

It's that, and the love Gianpiero has for him, that makes him want to be extra gentle with him.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

Max nods, opening his eyes again, already reaching forward to help Gianpiero with his clothes.

The water in the bath has cooled down from the scalding temperature it had been when the servants had left, and they both sink into it gratefully, letting its warmth wash away the tension of the day.

Their skin is still damp when they get under the covers, and they stick together as Gianpiero drags Max over his chest, pressing a kiss in his hair.

"Thank you," he tells him, not because he has to, but because he can.

"Always, my King," Max replies, already sounding half asleep.

Like for all of Max's promises, Gianpiero knows there is no breaking this one either, and he falls asleep easily, sure that his Blade will keep him safe.

[gs29]

A Surprising Reunion

Squid Game Master list

It had been years since Jun Ho had last seen his older brother, the man he had once looked up to, before everything had shattered. After all the chaos, the secrecy, and the horrors of the Squid Game operation, Jun Ho had believed his brother was gone. He had watched as his brother fell—believed him dead in that cruel, unyielding game. But now, as he sat in the quiet warmth of his home, his two-year-old son babbling happily in the living room, everything was about to change.

The doorbell rang.

Y/n glanced up from the kitchen where she was busy preparing dinner. The clock on the wall read 6:30, and it was a little odd for anyone to be visiting at this hour. She wiped her hands on a towel and moved toward the door, wondering who it could be.

As she opened it, her eyes widened in confusion.

Standing in the doorway was a man she never thought she would see again. He was dressed in black, his posture commanding, but there was no mistaking the familiar, sharp features—the same eyes, the same jawline. It was him.

“Jun Ho…” The voice was low, almost a whisper.

Y/n froze, the blood draining from her face.

Standing before her was none other than the man who had disappeared, the man whose death Jun Ho had never fully accepted.

The Front Man.

Jun Ho’s older brother, In Ho.

Inside the apartment, Jun Ho was in the living room, playing with Joonie. His heart felt lighter than it had in a long time—life was good. His wife, his son, everything felt like it was falling into place, and yet, he couldn’t shake the nagging emptiness that lingered deep inside him. The loss of his brother had created a hole that nothing seemed to fill. Even after everything, even after all the time that had passed, part of him still felt like he was waiting for some sort of closure.

But he hadn’t expected closure to come knocking at his door.

The sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway caught his attention. Y/n’s voice, soft but with a tinge of something strange in it, echoed through the apartment. “Jun Ho…” she called, her tone faltering.

A sudden tension coiled in Jun Ho’s chest. He stood up, his instincts kicking in. He had no idea why, but something about the way she called his name made him uneasy.

Before he could make it to the door, it swung open, and there stood his brother—alive, standing right in front of him, looking exactly the same as he had when they last saw each other, all those years ago.

Jun Ho froze, his heart stopping in his chest. He blinked, feeling like the ground had slipped out from under him.

"In Ho…" he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room went silent for a long, agonizing moment. Jun Ho just stared at him, unable to process what he was seeing. His brother was alive. Alive. After everything—the Squid Game, the betrayal, the gunshots—it didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be real.

In Ho looked at him, his expression unreadable, a faint trace of sadness in his eyes. His lips curved into a small, tired smile, as though the weight of the past still hung heavy on him.

“I’m sorry, Jun Ho,” In Ho finally spoke, his voice surprisingly soft. “I couldn’t let you know I was alive. It… it wasn’t safe for either of us.”

Jun Ho’s breath caught in his throat. "But… but I thought you were dead. I watched you fall… I—" He broke off, his mind racing to catch up with the impossible reality in front of him.

In Ho stepped forward slowly, his eyes never leaving his younger brother’s face. "I know. I wanted to end it, Jun Ho. I wanted to disappear, to make sure the Game died with me. But I couldn't—couldn't leave you with that… that nightmare hanging over you. I had to make sure you were safe. So I let you think I was gone."

Jun Ho swallowed hard, emotions flooding him all at once—relief, anger, confusion. He wanted to reach out, to pull his brother into a hug, to shout at him for leaving him alone in that chaos. But his body froze, unsure of what to do.

Finally, it was Y/n who stepped forward, her voice breaking through the haze. “You…” Her hand trembled as she reached out, staring at him. “You’re really here. You’re really alive.”

In Ho’s gaze softened, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "I should have contacted you. I should have told you. But after everything—everything we went through, I thought it was better this way."

Joonie, who had been quietly observing from the corner, suddenly toddled over to In Ho, his small hands reaching up. He looked up at the unfamiliar face with wide, curious eyes. “Papa?” Joonie asked, his voice innocent and confused.

In Ho looked down at the child, his heart tightening. "No, little one. I'm not your papa," he said, bending down to meet Joonie’s gaze. "But I’m your uncle."

The simple words hung in the air, and a quiet, painful understanding passed between the brothers. In Ho had been gone, had been trapped in his own self-imposed exile, and now he was finally back, but the world had changed. Jun Ho was a father now. There was so much time lost, so much to catch up on.

Jun Ho watched In Ho interact with Joonie, his heart conflicting with the warmth and distance that had developed between them over the years. This was his brother, the same man who had once guided him, who had once shared his dreams—who had once taken a very different path.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jun Ho finally whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought I had lost you.”

In Ho looked at him with a somber expression. “I know. I was a coward. I didn’t want to drag you back into that world. I didn’t want to hurt you. I made choices that… I can’t undo. But I’m here now. If you’ll have me back, I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

For a long moment, Jun Ho didn’t speak. His brother had hurt him, had caused him so much pain, and yet… here he was, standing in front of him—alive. And even after everything, even after all the years of uncertainty, a part of Jun Ho’s heart still longed for the connection they had once shared.

Slowly, Jun Ho stepped forward, his breath shaky. "You have no idea how much I've missed you, In Ho," he said, his voice filled with a raw emotion. "I didn't know how to live with the thought that you were gone. But now—now, we can figure this out. Together."

And in that moment, the weight of the past seemed to lift just a little bit. There were still many things to face, many wounds to heal, but for the first time in years, Jun Ho felt like maybe—just maybe—his family could come together again.

Joonie, oblivious to the tension and history that had been tangled between his father and uncle, reached up again, this time pulling at In Ho’s sleeve. “Uncle play?” he asked, his big eyes hopeful.

In Ho’s heart swelled, and he chuckled softly. “Yeah, little one. Let’s play.”

Jun Ho, Y/n, and In Ho—three people who had been separated by the past, but now, perhaps, could begin to heal and rebuild. It was a messy, complicated reunion, but it was theirs. And that, in itself, was enough.

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 2

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

TW: Angst. mentions of death

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 2

The themes explored in Daddy Long Legs by Jean Webster take on a new meaning each time I pick it up. I first read the novel in middle school, where I immediately saw pieces of myself in Jerusha Abbott.

While the mysterious benefactor, Jervis Pendleton, offers her an opportunity to experience a world beyond the orphanage, I don’t believe he’s the hero of this story. A door is opened thanks to his financial aid, but the hard work and dedication from Jerusha Abbott allows her to achieve success and independence.

This storyline resonated with me and still does. As new chapters of my life unfold, I find myself returning to Jerusha Abbot, wondering what I might accomplish if given the chance.

In this essay, I will cover...

His fingers drummed the surface of his helmet as Jason scanned your essay, the pages spread out across his scuffed kitchen table. Most of its content was ruined, streaks of mud and ink staining the page, but what remained was good—better than good.

It had been years since he read Daddy Long Legs or even thought about it. Jason remembered the basic plot—a benefactor paying a young woman’s way through college—your essay made him yearn to pick it up again, to see what you did in its message and themes.

You deserved a full ride with writing this good, but Crime Alley had a nasty habit of snuffing out dreams. Jason picked up the first page and reread your opening paragraphs once more. Regret coated his tongue like ash.

He should have shot that bastard dead. If he had, this wouldn’t have happened.

His anger simmered, flushing his skin. He sank back in his chair, willing it to recede. You never asked for his anger, nor could he explain why he felt it at all. Bad things happened—worse than a ruined essay and a crushed dream—but this was the second time he’d crossed paths with you this week. He should have guessed it was you when he saw that yellow hoodie.

And the way you looked at him... Did you always look at people with such blatant distrust? Or did he just have that kind of effect on people?

Jason scrubbed his face, chiding himself. This fixation with your paper, with you, couldn’t be healthy. It was late. He needed to sleep so he could do the same thing all over again. Patrol, eat, sleep. The monotony was grounding. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself.

He gathered the pages and dumped them in the trash before he lost himself. You said you weren’t going to sweat it, so why should he?

A heavy silence settled over his apartment as he shrugged off his jacket. He had yet to turn on the lights, accustomed to navigating in the dark, so why bother? He undid the buckles and zippers that fitted him into his uniform as he steeled himself for another restless night. Sleep never came easy, regardless of where he slept.

Despite his best efforts to ignore the temptation, his gaze drifted back toward the trash bin.

I find myself returning to Jerusha Abbot, wondering what I might accomplish if given the chance.

Jason was no hero, not that he had claimed to be one since taking up the mantle of Red Hood. There was always a new villain trying to know the hero off their pedestal. Sometimes the hero won, sometimes they lost, but the battle was never truly over. They gave more than they got, and the public didn’t always appreciate their efforts. Being a morally ambiguous vigilante was only slightly better without a moral compass to weigh him down, but he digressed.

You had a shot he never had, and he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to make things right.

“Fuck,” he grumbled as he fitted himself back into his uniform.

***

Breaking into Wayne Enterprises was easy.

Stupidly so.

Honestly, Jason should have taken that as a bad sign, but he was too focused on the task at hand.

He proceeded with caution down the hall toward the foundations department. The mission was simple. Find your application and approve it. The foundation's board blew through money faster than Batman blew through batarangs. What was one more recipient added to the pool? They probably wouldn’t even notice.

The office didn’t require a badge and opened with a soft click. Two desks sat facing each other, each outfitted with their own computer. His lip curled as he took in the blank white walls and a window that looked out onto nothing. Talk about depressing.

He sank behind one of the computers and got to work. Passing the initial lockscreen was easy, but the information he sought was heavily encoded and buried behind other security measures. Unless all he wanted to play a quick game of solitaire, he needed to put a little more work into this. He expected as much given how paranoid Bruce was about his digital information. It would take more than a few passwords to hack this system.

It would have been easier to simply ask Bruce for a favor, but he’d rather stick his dick into a live socket than be in his debt.

His screen flickered once, twice, before it went black. He swore under his breath. He clicked a few keys before checking the back of his monitor. It came back to life when he jiggled the connection, but when he saw what was awaiting him, he swore more overtly.

“Fuck me.”

Tim glanced off screen, the harsh light from the monitor casting harsh shadows across his pale face. Jason squinted at the screen to try to discern the muddled shapes behind him. Not the cave, nor his bedroom, so he could only assume he was somewhere in the building too.

“Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” Jason wheezed, “Why are you here?”

“I do work here.”

Jason sneered. Sure, Bruce named Tim a majority shareholder once upon a time. But it didn’t come with a job. Lucius managed most of the day-to-day operations in Bruce’s stead, leaving Tim to do Tim things. It still didn’t explain why he was still here, well after midnight. At least, Jason had a valid reason for sneaking around.

“How did you know I was here?”

Tim flicked a strand of black hair from his eyes. “Lucius had new cameras installed after Bane tried to infiltrate the building last month. You would have known that if you hadn’t disappeared with your band of misfits.” His fingers flew across the keyboard, the clack of the keys biting into the audio in a way that set his teeth on edge. “Now, answer my question. Why are you here?”

Of any Wayne or Wayne-associated person he could run into, Tim was the best option. They might not always agree on which methods to employ to get the job done, but he was the best suited to help him with this particular problem. He was also clearly distracted by something else, which helped his case.

“I’m looking for a scholarship application.”

“Our applications are available on our website. You didn’t have to break in and hack our systems.” Tim paused, his lips pursing. “But I don’t think you can get a scholarship if you’re still legally dead.”

His eye twitched. Tim was a shit, and from the subtle curve of his lips, he knew it too. Jason forced himself to breathe through the irritation and clarified, “I’m looking for a specific applicant. She already applied.”

Tim finally looked at him. “She?”

“I saved a woman from getting mugged, but they tossed her bag in a puddle. He scholarship essay was ruined and I—”

He tried to play it cool, but from the slow furrow of Tim's brow, Jason missed the mark. Going to college had been a dream of his long before Bruce found him in that alley. He loved books. They saved him when he had nothing, and the knowledge that came with reading was just as deadly as his guns, but there were limits to self-education. Higher education always seemed like an unattainable goal until he stepped foot in Wayne Manor for the first time. Suddenly, that dream felt more like a promise.

And then he died.

Dead kids didn’t get to go to college.

Hell, they didn’t even get to finish high school.

Even after the League brought him back, his dreams dimmed like embers on a fire, little more than a whisper of the time he lost. He never shared his dream with anyone, but if someone was going to connect the dots, it was Tim. Ironic, seeing as Tim never wanted for anything.

Jason licked his teeth. “I feel bad about it, alright? She mentioned she also applied for a scholarship with Wayne Enterprises, so I thought I could help her out.”

“Hm.”

Tim appeared unmoved. Jason expected that. Unless the problem immediately concerned him or whatever case he’d fixated on at the time, he couldn’t be bothered to expend the emotional effort to care. His lack of empathy bordered on psychopathy at times, but Jason wasn’t about to call him on it. Seemed hypocritical for the pot to call the kettle black while he was currently in the kettle’s domain.

“Forget it,” Jason said as he stood, “I’ll try again la—”

“What’s her name?”

He hesitated. “What?”

“Her name. I can look her up for you.”

Jason knew the way your mouth pinched when you were upset, or that you chewed on the strings of that stupid yellow hooding, but that wasn’t what he asked. “Right, her name. Her name is...”

Tim stared at him. “You don’t know her name.”

“Shut up.” He threw up his hands. “There wasn’t a lot of time for formal introductions. I scared off the mugger and made sure she made it home.”

“Fine. Do you remember where she lives?”

That he could answer with a little more confidence. He gave a rough estimation based on where you had parted ways. There were two complexes on that block, but that seemed to be enough information for Tim to work with. His hands flew across the keyboard, staring unblinkingly at the screen. That had to be a strain on the eyes.

“Want to try blinking?”

Tim did, though it looked painful to do so. “Happy?” He turned his attention back to the screen, eyes wide and unblinking once more. Jason suppressed a shudder.

“Found her. Sending her application now.”

A new window appeared on his screen with your information laid out for him. Your name, address, among other personal details. He had no way of knowing it was you until he reached the essay portion. You had a distinct written voice. One that he clocked immediately.

With the wave of relief came a poignant shame that hollowed his chest. Genuine intentions aside, this felt a little too close to stalking for his liking. He minimized the screen to avoid temptation.

“Why didn’t she get the scholarship?”

“We give scholarships to students from the university’s business or science schools, and it looks like she planned to go to school for...” Tim skimmed your application. “Classics and writing.”

The unimpressed look he received was unwarranted.

“You’re a sap and painfully predictable.”

So, was that.

Jason chewed on his response. The fact that you wanted to be a writer and study the classics had little to do with his motivations to help you, but it did look pretty damning that they coincided with his special interests. He just wanted to see someone succeed. If it couldn’t be him, he wanted it to be you.

And if he lived vicariously through you as a result, well, that was just two birds with one stone.

“Can’t Bruce, I don’t know, sponsor a new scholarship?”

“The board doesn’t pull scholarships out of their asses,” Tim chided, “There’s protocol and paperwork for these things. Not to mention the screening process for applicants and we’re already wrapped for the year.”

Jason curled his fists. “Can you do it or not?”

Tim paused, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“Answer the damn question. You're supposed to be the smart one here.”

He sniffed and tapped a key. The screen went dark.

“W-Wait, no! Don’t I—” Jason gripped the screen and shook as if it were a magic eight ball that would bring Tim back. A growl ripped from his throat as he sank back into his chair. Well, so much for that plan.

He shut down the computer and made sure the office was how he found it before heading for the door. It swung open before he could grip the knob. Tim stood a head shorter than him, but his presence held a sharp intensity that had Jason stepping back in surprise.

“Jesus. Can you not?”

Tim spun on his heel and motioned for him to follow down the hall. “I have something to show you.”

They walked past his (often grossly underutilized) office and toward Bruce’s at the end of the hall. The lights were off, the only light coming from the curved monitor on his desk. A blanket and pillow sat discarded in the corner, recently used.

Jason stared at the Tim-made nest before shifting his attention to the perfectly acceptable couch that overlooked the Gotham skyline. “Are you sleeping on the floor?”

“I was sleeping on the floor before you tripped the cameras,” he said as he settled behind the desk, “I’m awake now and sitting in a chair. Try to keep up.”

His fingers twitched as he resisted the overwhelming urge to wring his neck. “What did you want to show me?”

Tim stiffened. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

That was reassuring.

“Or maybe you will, I don’t know, but I found this a few months back.” He angled his screen toward Jason, who bent down to squint against the harsh light from his monitor. What kind of psychopath worked with their monitor on full bright—

His thoughts guttered as the words on the screen finally sank in.

The Jason Todd Memorial Foundation

Jason recoiled. It would have been less painful for Bruce to kick him in the fucking teeth. Physical pain was fleeting, easier to stomach, but this... he had no idea what to do with the kind of pain that dug beneath his skin and festered like an infection.

He tried to make peace with Bruce, and the hard truth that his death had meant very little in the grand scheme of things. Villains like the Joker continued to wreak havoc on the streets. He refused to go against his morals, and so nothing got better.

It was a tough pill to swallow, but he managed to move forward and carve out a place for himself that wasn’t wholly fueled by anger and spite. His methods weren’t good or pure, some might argue he was just as bad as Black Mask, but no one could say they didn’t yield results. Drug trafficking to minors was cut in half overnight, and he kept dealings tightly contained within Park Row. While Jason couldn’t stop the distribution that plagued Gotham, he could contain it.

Red Hood could be the change that Jason Todd never was.

But seeing this now… knowing Bruce had…

He shoved away the complicated feelings that twined around his heart as he continued to read. The foundation would fund scholarships for low-income students seeking higher education in honor of Bruce Wayne’s late son. That included a full ride to Gotham University, an opportunity that Jason would never have.

A lump lodged in his throat as he choked out a strangled, “Why?”

“Bruce tries his best. He’s far from perfect, yeah, but he does try to make up for his shortcomings in his own way. From what I can tell, this never went live, not to the public at least. I have my guesses as to why that happened given his mental state after…” Tim let the statement die there. They both knew what after meant without having to rehash the gritty details. “I asked Lucius and the money is there. It’s been there, waiting for someone to do something with it.”

His throat constricted around the lump until it threatened to burst. He looked away to blink away the sting in his eyes. How was this supposed to make him feel? Good, bad, a nauseating combination of the two?

“I would argue the money is yours, seeing as your name is attached to it. This is a need-based foundation, and it sounds like your girl needs it. You can tweak the parameters to suit your needs. I really don’t care.”

His computer pinged, signaling the end of a download. Tim bent down to grab a thumb drive and stuffed it in his pocket.

“What was that?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

In other words, Bat business.

Jason let the matter die without much fuss.

Tim sighed and said, “Look, I know this is messy given your tepid relationship with Bruce.”

Tepid was an understatement.

“You don’t have to use the money or the foundation, but if you want to help her, this is your best option. It’s exactly what you asked for.”

He exhaled sharply. Tim made a valid point. Bruce created this for a reason, even if he never had the balls to make it live. It was time the ghost of Jason Todd finally did some good. “What do I have to do?”

“I’ll get you in touch with Lucius.”

[simp2537]

𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻

a/n: We start the movie with this chapter 😝. Oh my goodness how I love this fic already. I hope yall enjoy.

Word Count: 3926k

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, depression, war, war crimes, imprisonment, torture, abuse, predatory behavior, anxiety, nightmares, suicidal thoughts, death  gore, murder, teen pregnancy, drug abuse, alcohol addiction, just heavy themes all around

Chapter Three

Normal School

Y/n smiled as she raced Bella downstairs. Bella wasn’t actually racing she knew that. Being back in her childhood home made her want to jump for joy. She slammed the door open and all but ran outside to her dad’s side. 

She smiled brightly at the father and son in front of her. Jacob smiled back at her as her dad moved to speak.

“Bella, Y/n you girls remember Billy Black.” Charlie tells his daughters. Y/n nods her head with her normal bright smile. She can remember all the play dates she would have on the reservation with Jacob.

“Wow, you’re looking good.” Bella says smiling.

“Well, I’m still dancing.” Billy answered.

“You never could out dance me though.” Y/n giggles. Billy smiled at Y/n as she shook his hand. 

“I’m glad you girls are finally here. Charlie here hasn't shut up about it since you told him you were coming.” Y/n laughed softly at Charlie’s bewildered expression.

“Miss us that much daddy?” Y/n asked giggling. Charlie rolled his eyes at his young daughter and scrunched at her hair. 

“All right, keep exaggerating. I'll roll you into the mud.” Charlie amused.

“After I ram you in the ankles.” With that Billy rolled over to Charlie. The two men began to playful fight. Y/n smiled softly, she’d liked Mr. Billy. We would let her sit in his lap and read to her when Charlie would work late shifts.

“Hi I’m Jacob.” Y/n eyes widened as she saw him. He was taller now, more muscular too. When they were little he was short and scrawny. His ebony hair had grown out a bit more. She remembered him well.

It was like the universe wouldn’t let her forget, her bestest friend. Jacob Black.

“We used to make mud pies when we were all little.” He continued smiling. 

“Right, no I remember now.” Bella smiled. Y/n couldn’t hold back her grin anymore and she pounced onto him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as a squeezed him.

“I hated those mud pies! I would just braid flowers in both of your hairs.” Y/n laughed as she pulled away from him. A soft pink dusted over Jacob’s cheeks as she pulled away. 

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jacob chuckled not knowing what to say. 

“It’s a shame you grew so much. I can’t make fun of you about how small you are anymore.” Y/n turned to Bella with a smile. Bella shook her head softly and looked over at their fathers.

“Are they always like this?” She asked softly. 

Jacob shook his head slightly replying, “it’s getting worse with old age.” Y/n smiled again as she stared up at Jacob. He still has the small scar under his chin from when they went swimming together when it was storming. 

Y/n hadn’t realized she been staring for a while till she hear Bella squealing in excitement. She turned as Bella was moving around the red truck.

“This is perfect.” Y/n followed Bella into the car she hit Jacob with the  door. Her arm shot out catching his back and helping him back up. He turned to her staring for a few seconds. Y/n blinked and sat next to Bella with a small smile. Jacob quickly slide into the car next to her.

“Listen, you gotta double-pump the clutch when you shift, but besides that you should be good.” Jacob told Bella. Y/n watched Bella test it out quickly. 

“Do you want a ride to school or something?” Bella asked. Y/n turned to Jacob. She knew it was a long shot but maybe they could go to school with one another now.

“I go to school on the reservation.” He admitted with a smile. 

“I wish we could go to the same school.” Y/n muttered softly. 

“That’s too bad, it would’ve been nice to know one person.” Bella answered. Pouting Y/n gently hit her sister’s arm.

“What am I then?” Bella rolled her eyes. 

“You don’t count in that aspect.” Y/n scoffed softly and crossed her arms. To her sides both people laughed at her.

…………………………….

Regular human school was boring. Y/n sat next to Bella at her lunch table unamused. She’s already been asked three times if she had studied in Italy. She wasn’t sure why that’s the country everyone picked.

The cover for the academy wasn’t even in Italy, it was in Egypt. The desserts made the perfect hiding grounds for the portals to the hidden realm. She didn’t like how all the boys seemed obsessed with Bella.

They reminded her of rabbits in heat looking for a mate. She liked Erik, he seemed nice enough. Mike was fragile but a little funny. Quietly stabbing her fork through her apples coated in honey and tajín. She perked her head up at Bella’s words. 

“Who are they?” Bella asked staring out the window. Y/n’s gaze drifted to where her sister laid. Walking into the cafeteria were two pairs of boy and girl. 

“The Cullens.” Angela answered with a smile. Y/n furrowed a brow at her. Cullen? She’d sworn she’d heard the name before.

“They're Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They moved down here from Alaska, like a few years ago.” Jessica answered handing Y/n half of her sandwich. She smiled softly and ate it quietly.

Gods above and below how Y/n has missed a simple sandwich. With deli meat, cheese, and mayonnaise. She loved all the food she’d ever eaten but there was something nostalgic about a plain sandwich.

“They kind of keep to themselves.”

“Yeah, cause they’re all together.” Jessica added smiling like the gossip queen she was. “Like together, together. The blonde girl, that's Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett, they're like a thing.”

Y/n stared at them as they walked past her table. Rosalie the blonde was gorgeous beyond belief. Her hair was perfect in every way, soft, bouncy and smooth. Emmett the big dark haired boy was no different. Not an imperfection on his body. 

He was huge like a pro football player. His large hand tightly wrapped around Rosalie’s. But as they passed a stench wafted into her nose. Like the smell of a hospital completely sterile.

“I’m not even sure that legal.” Jessica whispered. 

“Jess, they’re not actually related.” Angela snipped quietly. 

“Yeah, but they live together. It's weird.” Jessica turned back to the Swan sisters. “Okay, the little dark haired girls Alice. She’s really weird, and she’s with Jasper, the blonde one who looks like he’s in pain.” Y/n watched as Alice twirled about. 

Weird wasn’t the right word. She was so pale, paler than Bella and that was an achievement. Jasper did look like he was in pain. His eyes were glassed over like some ravaged wolf. Hungry carving blood. 

They too had not visible imperfections.

As they passed her they left a new scent to her nose. It smelt like smoke, maybe a hint of smoke. It was faint, not entirely unpleasant like the two before them. It was just odd. It was familiar to her. 

“Dr. Cullen's like this foster dad/matchmaker.” Jessica amused. Y/n scoffed softly as she finished her last bite of sandwich. Jessica smiled softly at her, handing her a small package of cookies.

“Maybe he’ll adopt me.” Y/n froze for a second so small it thankfully went unnoticed. Adoption… the word sent shivers down her spine. She wasn’t ungrateful to be living with her dad and sister.

She loved them dearly, but it always made her feel uneasy. 

“Who’s he?” Bella asked staring so deeply it made her confused. There he walk, the object of Bella’s thoughts. Y/n could practically feel the way her heart began to move.

“That's Edward Cullen. He's totally gorgeous, obviously, but apparently nobody here's good enough for him.  Like I care, you know?” Jessica finished. Y/n wanted to visibly recoil. 

Edward wasn’t ugly, handsome and perfect. She hated it, she wasn’t sure why. He like all his siblings were perfect. There was something off about him though. The way his lip curled when Jessica talked about him.

As he passed her his smell was something else entirely. He smell still, like a heart that hadn’t beat in a hundred years. Completely frozen over, like ice had found its way around his heart. 

Bella stared at him too, but not like herself. She admired him for the distance. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to. 

“Seriously, like don’t waste your time.” Jessica mentioned as she saw the sister staring. 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Bella uttered as she looked back. 

“He’s probably too old for me anyway.” As she turned back his eyes were baring directly at Bella. Edward’s gaze turned for a moment to her. His eyes were blacked with not clear distinction between iris and pupil. 

His whole family smelt, they were not human. Y/n was a skilled enough hunter to know that. They were something else entirely. Now she just needed to figure out what.

Then she would have her first real hunt as a branded hunter. 

…………………………….

Mike had graciously decided to lead the two sister to Biology together. It took him a moment to realize that Y/n was a junior with them. It seemed he’d forgotten quickly how smart she was.

“Mr. Molina.” Mike greeted as he walked to his seat. The teacher smiled at him as both Bella and Y/n walked in. Her baggy leather jacket was held in her hands as she followed. 

“The two Swans.” Mr. Molina greeted. Y/n played with her pendant dangling from her neck. She thought of Kellan as she looked over all her jewelry. He’d crafted them all himself. The pendant hung elegantly over her chest.

On instinct her and a hand wrapped around it. She clung to it for comfort. She wasn’t afraid. Fear was the mind killer. To be afraid was to let your enemies have control over you. She was not afraid. Just uneasy.

Y/n’s eyes roamed the class room till the landed on the Cullen boy. His black eyes bore into hers with an animalistic expression. His scent enveloped her senses, unchanging, unmoving, just still. 

She watched his face recoil as the fan blowed the air through her and Bella’s hair. His hand covered his nose and moth in disgust. She smelt her hair quickly, lotus flowers and honey. The same scent she always had. A hint of rose and vanilla maybe from the perfume she had worn earlier.

She smelt good, she knew that could not be the issue. As she walked to sit next to him, she studied him. His fist were tightly woven together. His jaw clenched so tight he might break a tooth.

Sitting down on the edge seat Bella sat next to Cullen boy, Edward. Her teacher , Mr. Molina gave her the books for his class with a smile. Her old instructors rarely smiled. It was a nice change. 

The two sister shared a quickly glance as Edward slid the small dish over to them. His nails scratched the desk, creating the most annoying sound. Bella poked her head towards him, his black unsettling eyes caused her to turn away. 

His stare never left the two girls. Every few minutes Y/n would look back at him, her eyes hardened to there cores. She would stare back till his eyes faltered. He was unnatural. The way he all buy jumped out of his chair moments before the bell rung. 

As he passed her quickly she felt her skin grow warm. Glancing under her jacket lo and behold her hunter marks were glowing softly. She eyes shot towards his retreating frame at an inhuman pace. 

Monster. He was a monster. That much was sure. What kind was the issue now. Changeling? Golem? Vampire? Skinwalker? What would a monster be doing in a high school of all places.

Y/n look over at Bella softly. Bella held her hands gently over her beating heart. Y/n felt the rage boiling inside of her sister. Bella’s anger often turned into tears. It never ended well for anyone who made her sister cry. 

“Well, he was an asshole.” Y/n uttered offering Bella her hand. Bella smiled faintly and took it. 

“I guess he was.” Bella murmured. Y/n giggled softly and nudged Bella’s shoulder. 

“Look at you talking smack, looks like all those years of being the horrible little sister have been paying off.” Bella scoffed and pushed her gently. 

“As if…. You were never a horrible sister.” Y/n smiled faintly. 

…………………………….

Her next class was chemistry with seniors. Although she wanted to stay with Bella, chemistry was a passion of hers. Well

More chemical experiments. The juniors had a course but it wouldn’t have been as fun. As she approached her teacher the older lady smiled almost manically. 

“Good morning, I’m Y/n Swan-“

“And you’re my newest student?” Y/n nodded with a smile. Her teacher giggled and patted her shoulder. She wore goggles on her head like a mad scientist. Y/n knew she would like her.

“I went over your transcripts from Northride Academy, very impressed. Your old chemistry teacher had many good things to say.” Y/n let her smirk widen slightly. Most of the transcripts were fake in a sense. Northride Academy was a real school, she did learn there.

It was just not all she learnt. As for her chemistry teacher, it was just Kijani. He too has an interest in the subject.

“I’m surprised you decided to continue your high school education instead of going to collage.” 

“I wanted the high school experience, even if it’s just for a few years.” Her teacher nodded softly.

“I’m Ms. Franken.” Y/n let her brows furrow.

“Like Frankenstein?” The older women nodded. 

“I’ve got a seat for you at lab four, in the corner over there with the Cullen’s.” Y/n nodded as she walked over. The two Cullens she was to seat with the gorgeous blonde and hefty brunette.

She set her bag to the side and grab her lab safety kit from Ms. Franken. It was just her luck that her teacher had an extra. Unfortunately the coat was a boys coat. It’s was rather large on her, but rolling up her sleeves would fix that issue.

She took the empty spot next to the boy and  met the blondes gaze. Her eyes were sharpe and golden. Her scent was cleared now. Roses, she smelt of roses and perhaps some moss. It was a gentle scent, kinder to her nose than Edward’s. 

To her side Emmett smelt of the forest and oddly cookie dough. It was a warm smell, something she enjoyed. But when they stood together the collective sterile smell was still present. Simply not as pronounced.

Placing a smile on her face she turned to the pair. She reached her hand out slowly. 

“I’m Y/n Swan, I’ll be your new lab partner.” The boy immediately took her hand in his. His hand engulfed her own as he shook it firmly. His hands were ice cold and then he retracted quickly. The glare from Rosalie was promising. 

“Emmet Cullen, and this is-“

“Rosalie Hale.” Her voice was perfect too. Y/n nodded with a smile. She was an enchanting creature. She wasn’t human that much was obvious. 

She glanced at her arm. Her lab coat had lifted slightly. She could she the mark of Anubis glowing on her wrist. She pulled the coat down with a smile.

More monsters. 

“I’m not totally sure what we’re ment to be working on, could you both help me?” Rosalie didn’t answer and went back to her work. Emmett smiled and noddded.

“We’re making colored fires. Simple enough.” Y/n nodded softly as she look at all the equipment at her lab. The burner before her was probably the weakest. It looked a bit worn as she suspected, when lighting the flame it was dull.

Slowly as grab her metal salts from the vials she glanced over at her lab mates. Rosalie had an annoyed look plastered on her face. The statement necklace she wore looked old, 1900’s maybe. 

“Your necklace is pretty.” The blonde’s golden eyes snapped up as she pressed her hand to the desk. Y/n breathed in deeply as she focused. The Blaze orders powers were most difficult to control.

The high emotions the high the heat. The tiny wisp of fire grew larger and she pulled her hand away. Kijani had always been specific about using her powers in the human realm. 

“Nothing noticeable, unless absolutely necessary.” 

She slipped her gloves and glasses on and she flicked her air vent on. Grabbing the strontium chloride and lithium chloride she grab the small spoon.

“Thank you.” Rosalie answered softly. Smirking Y/n dropped her metal salts onto her fire it lit up in red and a crimson pink. The two at her side stared at the strong colorful fire as she caught her teachers gaze. Ms. Franken was smiling at her.

“You’re most welcome.” Y/n added as she looked away. Under her coat she looked at her marks. They all glowed softly in a silver and gold. She had found her first hunt.

…………………………….

Climbing out of her room had been too easy. Y/n had always remembered her house to be much bigger than this. Maybe it was the fact she was small once, maybe it had just been how imposing the house had once looked. 

It didn’t matter now, she had already journeyed into the woods. Her footsteps were light as she followed by a stream. Small tadpoles flowed up the small body of water effortlessly. 

She smiled to herself as she progressed, it was so simple in this forest. It was peaceful unlike the forests in the hidden realm. No monsters were lurking around in the shadows.

Well, that she wasn’t quite sure just yet. Those Cullen’s were human. Maybe to a real human they just looked like supermodels but to Y/n, she knew better. Nothing human was that perfect. 

Humanity was perfect, that’s what made it so beautiful. That’s what humanity worthy of protection. Its imperfections made it real, not perfect but real.

The Cullens were something else internally. As her eyes looked around her she noticed the smallest of movement within the trees. They swayed softly, as if they had a life of their own. 

Smiling she lifted her hand to grasp into the warping air above her. Her sword, a black blade with a decorated handle. The metal shined in the moonlight, casting a small glow on the area around her. At its every end was the Eclipse symbols and at its hilt was a star shoot out of the curve of the crescent moon. 

Slowly she dragged its tip again the soft mud, making a small circle. She stabbed the sword into the middle with a smile. As the moon moved over the circle she took in a breath. Slowly she reached her hand out. 

A grayish sliver admitted from her hands. The circle itself began to glow. Gently symbols materialized in the air and floated around.

“๒ץ Շђє ק๏ฬєг ๏Ŧ Շђ๏Շђ, ɭєՇ ๓є รקєคк ฬเՇђ ๓ครՇєг кเןคภเ.” The glow spread till it formed her masters body. He stood with his back to her, speaking softly with another. The other he spoke to was out of her view, still she smiled anyway.

She had not been gone long but she missed her master. He’d been like another father to her at her time in the academy. When others didn’t believe in her, he always did. Her need for his approval was so great. She needed to make him proud to call her his apprentice.

Cleaning her throat she spoke, “Master Kijani?” 

He whipped around, smiling proudly at the small mirror like portal in front of him.

“Your first moon message! I’m so overjoyed you’ve decided to call upon me.” He answered standing straight. 

“Is this a bad time? I can call you tomorrow if you’re speaking with another.” She offered, her shoulders relaxed. He shook his head, his locks swaying side to side.

“No child, I was just finishing up.” His comforting gaze left her and went to his side. With a soft nod, whatever figure that was at his side left. She nodded and stepped towards the figure in front of her.

“Who was that?”

“No one, what can I help my prized student with?” He answered.

Her lip curled up slightly. Kijani had always answered every question she’d ever asked. Her brows furrowed, she could remember if he had ever denied her knowledge. Perhaps she’d simply grown spoiled, always being informed. 

“I believe I’ve found my first hunt.” She answered with a smile. Kijani’s hazel eyes perked up in interest.

“Truly? Normally it takes new hunters at the very least take a year to find a hunt.” He mumbles knowledgeably. She smiled happily, her nails biting into her skin through her excitement.

“I know! I think I’ve found some kind of changeling, or skinwalker maybe, perhaps a coven of vampires.” She exclaimed. He chuckled softly at her optimism.

“Changelings? Skinwalkers? Vampires? All in Forks, Washington?” He asked with an amused look. She nodded once more. 

“I’m not sure yet.”

“We’ll do explain then.” His calm voice grounded her chaotic happiness. Her heart beat skyrocketed as she recounted her thoughts.

“There’s this family here, they’re unnaturally perfect. They smell like a still corpse, sterile and completely unmoving when tougher. They’re cold to the touch, and seem always annoyed with humans.” Kijani nodded at her rambles softly. 

“You can get rid of Changelings then, they are always hot to the touch.” She nodded and stand in the moist moss bellow.

“Perhaps they’re vampires then, could you ask Dracula if there are any covens here in Forks?” She asked leaning her head in one elbow. He laughed softly at her words.

“Funny you should mention Dracula, Aerion is currently in Transylvania.” Her h/c brows shot up in surprise.

“Really? Wasn’t her placed in Romania?” She asked. Kijani agreed with her words softly. 

“Yes, but Dracula needed aid with Andrei, he’s ill? In a sense.” Worry took over her face. Andrei was sick…? He was the son of Dracula, born of a human mother two hundred years ago.

His father had always been protective of his only son, it made the partnership with the Hunters all the more difficult. Dracula was the only vampire they would never hunt. He aided humanity too much to be rid of. 

So by extension they could not hurt his family. Andrei was a friend to her, Dracula was often a rude in kind terms to hunters. However he had an odd softness for Y/n, she didn’t know why. Both vampires seek tame around her.

“What’s wrong with Andrei?” Her voice was laced in concern. 

“We don’t know yet, if the situation escalates, I need you in Transylvania.” Kijani answered. She frowned greatly and stood up.

“Send me now! If he needs help, let me!” She snapped. Kijani laughed gently at her emotions.

“I’ve only just sent you home, and you want to come back already.” She scoffed softly as she walked around the glowing circle. 

“And you tell em something horrible.” She snipped back. He hummed gently at her as he watched her with gentle eyes. 

“You worry too much, Aerion can handle this alone, just as you will handle this hunt alone.” He answered. Alone… she was really alone this time. Kijani couldn’t come to her rescue if something went wrong. 

Nothing would go wrong though, she was ready. She’d found her kill, now all that was left was to do it. 

Taglist

@svtbpbts, @l-nectarine-l

Previous / Next

[sunnywiz]

pairing: mingi x afab chubby!reader

contains: smut(mdni!), pet names(doll, good/dirty girl), fingering, cunnilingus, simp!mingi, a little cursing

wc: 1k (what the)

susu's note: i lowk love and hate this at the same time.. requests are open btw!

When you and Mingi met for the first time in a cafe, his eyes immediately lit up in interest towards you. You just had made your order and were on your way to a table but ran into him when he got into the cafe. 

He started scanning over your body with his eyes and said wow quietly to himself. He loved the way your tight t-shirt hugged your curves and showed off a little bit of your tummy. Your long white summer skirt flowed a little in the air as the cafe door closed. You thought you weren’t in the best condition but in his eyes you were in the perfect fit. I mean, who wouldn’t love a little curviness in a girl.

Mingi was standing there in front of you with his jaw all the way on the floor, poor guy almost drooling. You looked at him in confusion, you got very entertained by his very random and sudden reaction.

”Are you okay?” you asked him, letting out a laugh since he still was in his thoughts. Mingi snapped out of it immediately and apologized to you, then quickly walked away to a table. You got confused by his action but decided to brush it off and got to your table.

You felt a pair of dark eyes on you the whole time you were drinking your coffee. It was certainly not the best feeling in the world. But when you had just finished and were getting up, the same guy from before walked past you at a fast pace, dropping a napkin with his number on the table. There was also a simple sentence above the number. ”Call me”.

~~~

You and Mingi had been dating for a while now and he has made it clear multiple times that he didn’t care if you were a little chubby. In fact he thought it was one of your best qualities and he absolutely was against any diets or you trying to lose weight.

”Doll, you know I love your body. You’re like a goddess to me, seriously” he said as you both finished your dinner and got up. You slapped his chest playfully and he acted like he was hurt. ”Stop joking around, Mingi” you pouted at him. 

Your words caused something to snap in him. ”You think I’m joking? Do you really think I’m messing around?” he looked down at you with his eyes dark. Mingi almost looked like a predator trying to mess with his prey’s mind. You got flustered and looked away from him. He immediately grabbed your chin and made you look at him again.

”You know I don’t play when we’re talking about you, doll” you are loving the pet name he gave you more and more every second. Mingi put his arms around your waist and slid them down to your ass, giving the cheeks a firm squeeze.

You started getting into the mood, forgetting about all of your insecurities and actually about everything in the world, but him. He pulled you

close and kissed you deeply. You kissed him back and parted your lips ever so slightly to let his tongue wander and explore all of the inside of your mouth.

He picked you up with ease in his muscular arms and brought you to your bedroom. He placed you down on your bed carefully not wanting to hurt you. But his actions other than that told a very much different story.

Mingi hovered over your body and pulled your shirt off, leaving you only with a bra on. ”Baby you are so incredibly beautiful” he said as he started kissing you all over your torso. He quickly also undid your bra exposing your bare chest and he groaned to himself. 

”Shit doll, one day you’ll be the death of me” Mingi said as he went lower and lower with his kisses, finally reaching the band of your shorts. Then he pulled them off with your panties, leaving you all naked and raw on the bed. 

He sat up for a second to admire your figure only for him to dive back down as fast as he got up. He lowered his face to look at your already dripping core.

”Oh dirty girl, you’re liking this, aren’t you?” you nodded slightly in response. He brought his thumb to circle your clit lazily while looking at your face that quickly turned into a very much fucked up one.

”Mingi please..” you begged for his touch. He obeyed your words immediately and dived down to kiss your core. You let out a moan and that only made him more and more excited. He started lapping at your hot wetness with his tongue and you let out more of those erotic noises that went straight to his dick.

You felt him insert two fingers inside of you, one at a time. First was his index finger that made you feel good yet a little empty, but when he put his middle finger in as well you started to feel like heaven. Mingi thrusted his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace at the same time as he lapped at your sweet nectar.

”Ming-…I’m...” you started to feel a knot form in your lower abdomen and your body started to tingle. He got what you meant right away, you were close and he curled his fingers inside you. One of your hands gripped tightly on the bedsheet and the other went straight to Mingi’s hair to pull his mouth even closer.

”Let go for me, doll” he muffled against your core and that’s what you did. You let your juices flow all over his face and neck with a loud moan of his name. ”Shit Mingi..” you said while panting heavily. 

He licked you clean of your juices and hovered over you. He brought his fingers that had been inside of you onto your lips and you opened your mouth, licking and sucking on his digits, tasting yourself. ”Good girl” he said while admiring you. You looked down at your lower parts and saw him having a painfully big looking bulge. 

”Now let’s see how I can make you sound like”.

[starriisarchives]

PROMISE ❀

ᝰ.ᐟ sebastian x fem!farmer!reader | duration: 939

description: after getting hurt in the mines, sebby is worried about you as helets you relax while he work on the farm.

content: sfw ﾉ fluffy ﾉ hurt ﾉ comfort ﾉ angst.

notes: ahhh, my first sebby fanfic! sorry for being a little late but i was outside, really hope you guys like this, its something short.

masterlist 𝜗᭪ previous fic 𝜗᭪ taglist 𝜗᭪ based on this ask

Today marks the first day of spring, which means you have a lot to do, having prepared things beforehand that you need to do on the farm. 

Sadly, you’re stuck in bed due to your husband’s orders after breaking your arm in a nasty fall in the mines early last week. When you wake up in the hospital, you can see the worry etched into his face.

It’s the same look he’s giving you as he looks down at you after you tried to leave the bed to start working. “But Sebby, you know today’s an important day, between taking care of the animals, seeds need to be planted.” You express, looking up into his eyes, making sure to not make any sudden movements that can hurt your arm.

“I know but you’re just not in the right headspace to be working on the farm until your arm is all better,” Sebastian speaks with a serious tone in his voice, his expression softens at the worried look on yours, knowing you’re not going to give it up until he offers something, as you’re always a hard worker but also very stubborn. “Would you sit and relax if I do all the work that needs to be done?”

“Hmm… yes, the list is on the fridge,” you speak in a soft tone, accepting it easily because you trust him, knowing he wouldn’t do something wrong. “The seeds are in the blue bin along with the fertilizer, the tools are in the red bin, if the silo ran out of hay, there is some left over in the green bin, please make sure to put everything back the way they were.” 

A low chuckle escapes his mouth, thinking just how cute you’re being. “Yes honey, I know, I’ve watched you and helped out since I moved onto the farm, I’m pretty sure I can handle it with no problem.” He speaks confidently. 

“Plus the animals love me.”

Sebastian places a kiss on your forehead before telling you if you need anything, just shoot him a quick test and he will be in quickly. Once he’s out the door, you fetch for the remote so you can watch your favorite cooking show for any new recipes it might give. 

“Alright, plant the seeds in a certain order, water the plants in the greenhouse, pet the animals, make sure they come outside and go back in at five…” Sebastian reads off the list out loud so he doesn't forget anything.

He knows exactly what he has to do but it doesn’t mean that he’s not worrying about not getting the job done right, you’re counting on him to not screw things up and he plans to make sure he does a good job. 

Plus he thought doing this will keep his mind from running but he was wrong. As he does each task, all he could think about is how you got hurt and he was trying to protect you to prevent that from happening. 

When Sebastian got the call from Harvey, he was scared, currently still is, you got hurt and he wasn’t there to protect you. He knows how hard you work for the farm and the community but he feels that it shouldn’t get to the point where you get hurt. 

What if it wasn’t your arm that got hurt? What if something more dangerous happened? What if he lost you either by death or you getting amnesia, if you fell in a different angle? He knows he shouldn’t think of these questions but he can’t help it being the main topic in his mind as he completes his duties. 

“Sebby?” Your voice interrupts the many thoughts in his mind and he rushes over to you. “What’s wrong? What are you doing out of bed? Sebastian questions frantically, you smile up at him, it’s cute to see him worry about you. Usually it’s the other way around when he goes outside when it rains.

“Well since you’ve been working hard, I figured to bring you a cup of coffee” 

You hand him the cup of coffee as you explore the expression on his face. “Sebby, are you okay? You seem a bit out of it?” You ask softly. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.” 

“No I know there’s something wrong, please tell me instead of pushing it away,” you let out, moving closer to him as you watch him take a deep breath. “I was scared okay. Hearing you getting hurt worries the hell out of me to the point, I’m thinking of possibilities of what other things would happen without me being there to protect you.” Sebastian lets out a breath, he doesn't realize he’s holding, looking down into your eyes. 

“Sebby, no matter what happens, I’ll be okay, plus I got a man who will take good care of me,” a smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you cup his face, your thumb rubbing it softly as he places his hand over yours. “Can you at least promise me to be more careful?” 

“Yes I promise, it’s not like I meant to fall off the ladder,” you chuckle, he brings your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on it. “Good, now go back to laying down, you’re distracting me from my work.” 

A heavy laugh comes out of your mouth briefly before giving him a kiss, going back inside leaving him to his duties, more calm and relaxed than ever knowing he’s doing such a good job, maybe this was a good thing to happen so you can get the break you need.

comments: @sephreads0, @akihayakawife.

© starriisarchives 2025. all rights reserved — do not copy, repost or translate.

[irondadfics]

Hey, I was wondering if you have any good fic recs of adult Peter? Those ones seem rare and hard to find good ones, so I figured I'd ask here!

I don't mind if he is a dad or not just trying to find some non teenager Peter fics.

Thank you in advance!

Here are some. Happy reading!

Sweet Stories and Gentle Goodnights (series) by frostysunflowers

Series with Parent Peter and Grandpa Tony.

I Would Lay My Armor Down by losingmymindtonight

“Where’s Happy?” Morgan asked after a minute or two, determinedly moping out the window. “He’s got the flu,” Peter said slowly, still turning the puzzle over in his head. “Didn’t you get your dad’s text?” “I didn’t look.” She shifted. “Why’d he send you?” The accusation in the question stung. He’d spent over a decade as the object of Morgan’s blind affection. Losing it now, without any warning and no explanation, made his whole perspective shift off-kilter. -- Or, Morgan's angry with Peter, Peter's oblivious, and Tony's self-sacrificial streak goes a little too far.

Left In My Memories by OverlyObsessed223

She shifts from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, both of her hands holding onto purple backpack straps. “Um… can I help you?” Peter says, not unkindly, and looks up for a second to make sure there wasn’t anyone else with her. Nope, it was just her. He pulls the door open wider. “Uh, yeah, um…” the girl stutters before taking a deep breath. “My name is Morgan, and I think you’re my brother.”  - Or where Peter's past catches up to him in the form of an eleven-year-old girl.

After The War by grilledcheesing

Peter survives the war against Thanos that kills all of his teammates, and returns to an earth laid to waste to discover Tony has left him … everything.  And he means everything. The company, the relief efforts, and — most importantly — the infant son Tony never knew he had.  As Peter pushes through a grief that threatens to swallow him whole, takes the burden of rebuilding the planet on his shoulders, and raises Tony’s son, the last thing he expects is for Tony himself to show up on his doorstep five years later as if no time has passed at all.

5 times peter saved aurora by parkrstark

this is Part 2 of the “darling, don't you ever grow up” series

...and 1 time they saved each other.  Or the one where Peter is a protective older brother and will do anything to keep her safe.

Desperate Measures by blondsak & seekrest

Waking up in the medbay, groggy and weak but otherwise okay, Tony instantly realizes two things. First, that he should almost certainly be dead—yet he isn’t. And second, that Peter isn’t here—even though Tony knows there is nothing in the world that could have stopped him, not when Michelle had been hurt too. At least, nothing short of his own death… or something far too close for comfort to it. With growing dread Tony lifts his head to stare at Michelle who stares right back, her expression as grave as he’s ever seen it. “What did he do?”

Love Comes Free by blondsak & seekrest

May isn’t expecting the phone call. But as soon as she hears Pepper’s voice she knows her time has come. “Listen, I hate to bother you, but Tony needs a favor,” Pepper says-- just as another voice in the background protests, “I don’t need a favor because I don’t need any help!” “He definitely needs help,” Pepper deadpans.  May laughs before saying, “What can I do for you two?”

love without end (series) by blondsak & Gruoch

It hadn’t been the first time Tony had woken up to a frantic call from a parent tending to a busted-up teenager bleeding all over their apartment. But that had been May, and also decades ago.  Somehow, tonight is even worse than that. Because tonight, it had been Peter doing the calling. Tonight it had been Peter, begging for help for his thirteen year-old son.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy needs Lucy more than ever after a devastating blow is dealt that will send shockwaves throughout the entire family and empire that he has built.

Word Count: 6,936

Warnings: Major character death, suicide baiting, grief, suicide/death pact, and references to past suicide attempts.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 21: A Thousand Tears

“Mr. Shelby? Miss. Winters?” Frances asked, eyes questioning and confused when they came in.

“Would some breakfast be possible, Frances?” Arthur asked. 

“It’s already set up in the dining room, Mr. Shelby. Mrs. Shelby and the children aren’t up yet, but I would expect that they will be soon.”

Lucy followed Arthur into the dining room, where he began to pile a plate high with eggs and sausage.

“You should eat,” he told her when she made no move towards the table.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry to bother you again.” Frances appeared in the doorway. “But Charlie Strong just called.”

“I’ll get it.” Lucy was already moving towards the hall that led to the study. She closed the door behind her, walking over to the heavy wooden desk and picking up the phone from its cradle. “Charlie?”

“Lucy? Is that you? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s busy at the moment.”

“What the hell happened last night?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“You don’t know?”

Her mind had been turning over every possible person who could have spilled the information about the assassination. Anyone who was at the last family meeting was a possible leak. She knew that it wasn’t her, Tommy, or Arthur. Certainly not Aberama considering he was dead.

But that still left a lot of people who potentially could have blabbed.

“Tommy, Arthur, and I are working it out,” she tried to assure him.

“Johnny said that some of our people are dead.”

“Listen,” she walked over to look out the window. “I’ll call you when we have some information to share, alright? Keep the yard locked down for now. You’ll hear from us soon.” She froze, eyes focusing on the tall figure walking out of the house and towards the fields in the same direction that Tommy had gone. “I have to go, Charlie.”

“Now, wait just a second–”

She hung up the phone and rushed out of the room.

“Where is Lizzie going?” she demanded. Arthur looked up from his plate.

“I told her that Tom went to walk by the fields.”

Spinning on her heel, Lucy went quickly for the door.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go after them–”

“Stay here. Stay inside. Don’t let the children come outside.”

She ignored Arthur’s further attempts to call after her, jogging out the door and towards the fields. The whole area was covered in such thick fog, she could barely see a few inches in front of her face. Her shoes sunk into the mud all the way up to her ankles, causing her to stagger and wobble at the way it stuck and sucked at her feet. There was a bone-chilling, agonized scream from somewhere in front of her, the click of what sounded like an unloaded gun being fired. The thud of something falling into the mud. Lucy broke into a run, or the best that she could manage at one with the wet soil tugging at her shoes. She focused on the ground until she found the outline of shoes in the dirt and followed them. Somewhere, a significant way in front of her, she heard the hum of Lizzie’s voice. 

“You’re not even a soldier anymore, Tommy. You didn’t check your weapon. You’re not a soldier, you’re a coward. I heard you pull the trigger. Leaving your family behind without a goodbye. If you still need a way out, here are six of them.” The sound of clinking metal punctuated her words as bullets were tossed to the ground. Lizzie’s voice radiated nothing but complete and utter contempt and disgust. 

The squelch of footsteps in the mud began to grow louder, until finally Lizzie emerged from the fog, freezing to stare at Lucy, eyes widening a fraction. Lucy tilted her head to the side.

A cold sort of rage washed over her, quiet and dangerous, leaving her nearly trembling with it. Before she could even process her own movements, her hand flew out, striking Lizzie hard across the cheek. The woman’s hand flew to her face, mouth gaping at Lucy in shock from the slap. Lucy took a step back, looking at Lizzie almost as if also in surprise at her own actions. All the rage and resentment that she had kept bottled up toward Lizzie, locked tight in a box in the far recesses of her mind, came pouring out in one great rush.

How miserable Lizzie had made both her and Tommy. After all they’d done to try to make their situation as tolerable for her as possible. Of course they’d made mistakes, but she had known what she was getting herself into. No one had ever forced her into anything. And yet she turned around and hated them for it all the same; played at being the victim, when she had been nothing but an active participant in the misery that the three of them shared. 

And now she stood there, over Lucy’s lover as he laid in the mud, the gun he’d had pressed to his head a moment ago still grasped in his hand, and threw bullets at him while taunting him to try again. 

Lucy could tolerate being kicked by Lizzie over and over. Deep down she believed that she deserved it. But her going after Tommy in such a way, striking at him when he was already down, was not something Lucy would ever be able to tolerate. 

No one touched him or hurt him like that. Not on her watch. 

“Go back to the house and stay there,” her voice was level and quiet, but even she could hear the dangerous remnants of rage in it. “Don’t come back out. Don’t let the children go outside. Don’t even let Arthur go outside. When we come back, you will not speak to me. You will not speak to Tommy. Not until I say that you can.”

There were a thousand things that she wanted to say to Lizzie, to scream at her until she was hoarse. There was even the temptation to grab her by the back of the head, throw her to the ground, and shove her face down into the mud. 

Lizzie continued to stare at her, clutching her reddening cheek, eyes frightened. Lucy jerked her head.

“Go. Now.”  

The taller woman pulled herself to her full height, chin held high, jaw clenched. Before she walked around Lucy and back towards the house. 

With a deep, slow breath, she forced herself to let the anger go. Before it burned her up and consumed her from the inside out. She could deal with Lizzie more thoroughly later. Right now, Tommy needed her. When she turned away from watching Lizzie leave, she was met with another figure. White shirt blending into the fog, the wind ruffling her blonde hair. 

“You tried to take him from me,” Lucy said. Grace smiled sadly, apologetically.

“I’m sorry.”

Lucy just sighed. “Take me to him?” she asked softly. Grace nodded and turned wordlessly, guiding her through the mist.

The fog was so thick, she didn’t even see Tommy until she was practically colliding with him, grasping at the front of his shirt in surprise. Half of his body was covered entirely in mud, no doubt where he had fallen. In one hand, he was clutching the empty gun. In the other, a handful of the bullets Lizzie had thrown at him.

“Lucy.”

He looked smaller than usual, huddled in his suit jacket, tear tracks clear on the side of his face not drenched in mud. He was shaking, unable to meet her eyes.

“Tommy,” she cupped the side of his face not caked with dirt. “Oh, love.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, body wracked with a violet sob. Shaking her head, Lucy pulled him tightly into her arms, not caring that he was getting mud all over her. He buried his face in her shoulder, arms going around her waist. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” was being chanted over and over again like a mantra. She stroked at his back and hair, practically holding him up with how hard he was crying.

“It’s alright, love. It’s alright. I’ve got you,” she rocked him gently from side to side. But she didn’t shush his sobs. The poor man probably needed to have a good cry.

It could have been hours or only minutes, she wasn’t sure, but Tommy eventually quieted. Lucy turned her head, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Okay?” 

He nodded. She knew better than to believe that he was truly alright, but at least she could be relatively confident that she’d gotten him stabilized enough to keep him from doing anything rash. He pulled away from her and she frowned, tugging a handkerchief from her pocket and attempting to wipe away the mud on his face.

“Close your eyes.”

He did as she asked, so she could clean his face without fear of getting mud in his sad, beautiful blue orbs. He opened them and looked down at himself.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, and under any other circumstances it would have been quite funny, to see the look of utter disgust take over his face as he fully took in his current state of being. Completely and utterly caked with mud. Lucy wrapped an arm around his waist to help support his uneasy steps and, rather gingerly, they began the trek back to the house. 

The phone in the study was ringing when they arrived, Frances was there to greet them, but quickly scampered off at Lucy’s gesture for her to leave them.

They staggered into the study, Tommy dumping the gun and bullets onto the desk before picking up the phone. He tilted it a bit where it rested against his ear so that she could listen in.

Lizzie came storming into the office, but one look at Lucy’s face and a small shake of her head and she remained silent, just standing in the corner with her arms crossed over her chest. Together, Lucy and Tommy listened quietly as the woman on the phone spoke to them of how the IRA had been the ones to thwart the assassination. And that the truck pulling up on the front drive was there to deliver to them the three bodies of their dead.         

Three. Three? Two of them had to be Aberama and Barney, but who was the third?

She followed Tommy back outside, to where the three bodies had been spread out on the driveway. They were each wrapped in white sheets and twine. Tommy pulled a knife from his pocket and crouched down over one, cutting away the twine. He pulled away the material covering the face.

Barney.

He moved to the next body and repeated the process.

Aberama.

To the third, then. She could see Lizzie watching from the window. Anxiety churned in Lucy’s guts, mind racing to try to figure out who it could be that was wrapped up in that white sheet.

Tommy pulled away the material, just enough to uncover the face.

Lucy staggered away for a moment, chest shuddering, too shocked to even be able to make a sound. Tommy clasped a hand over his mouth. His face crumpled with horrified grief and guilt. He turned to look at her in desperation before turning away, a hand over his eyes as he began to shake with sobs. With unsteady steps, Lucy stumbled forward. She looped her arms around Tommy, pulling him close so that he could turn his face to cry into her stomach. Silent tears rolled down her own cheeks.

As she stared down at the lifeless face of Polly Gray.     

∗ ∗ ∗

She watched Tommy with increasing worry, fingers toying with her rings, lip caught between her teeth. He was sitting at his desk, staring vacantly at nothing, one hand holding a smoking cigarette but not bringing it to his lips. There was something dead and empty in his eyes that had her worry tripling. 

She and Polly had never really seen eye to eye, or gotten along much at all for that matter. At least not until towards the very end. But Lucy knew how massively important she had always been to Tommy. 

He had already been so raw from the failure of the assassination plan, Lucy feared for what this would do to his already fragile mental state. She could see him blaming himself, starting to tailspin out of control down a dark abyss of self hatred. 

The day had passed in a blur after they uncovered the bodies sent to their doorstep. Arthur was in hysterics the moment he saw Polly laid out on the drive, Lizzie’s face pale and horror stricken at the window. 

Tommy hadn’t been in any state to give orders. So Lucy had taken it upon herself. She set Lizzie to work calling everyone and telling them the news. She’d have done it, but she was afraid to leave Tommy’s side for that long. She feared that her presence was the only thing keeping him from raising his pistol to his temple again. And this time he knew to check to make sure that the chambers weren’t empty. 

Most of the family had come to the house once they heard the news. Most were quiet in their mourning, sipping whiskey and speaking in low voices where they gathered in one of the sitting rooms. Ada–to Lucy’s great relief–took charge of handling Arthur before he hurt himself. She could only handle one suicidal Shelby brother on her own at a time, and Tommy was always her priority.

The only problem was Michael.

He’d gone into the room where they’d laid out Polly’s body, alone, and didn’t come out for a long while. And when he did, he made a beeline for Tommy, screaming, roaring in his face, spittle flying from his lips, threats and curses echoing throughout the room. It took her, Charlie Strong, and Johnny Dogs to all wrestle him off of him. And Lizzie had to threaten to throw him out of the house to get him to stop shouting. He’d spat at Tommy’s feet and stormed off into another room with Gina, and they hadn’t seen them since.      

Throughout the entire altercation, Tommy made no move or attempt to defend himself, simply standing there, staring at Michael miserably. Lucy had a feeling that if Michael had tried to kill him, Tommy would have let him. 

It was late. Darkness had fallen outside, blanketing the grounds in pitch black. 

Asher was laid out at Tommy’s feet. He’d been hovering by him ever since Lucy finally managed to shepherd him back into the house. When Tommy retreated into the office shortly after Michael confronted him, Asher had followed him. He’d plucked up one of his toys from the floor, carrying it in his mouth over to Tommy and dropping it at his feet, nudging at his legs with his nose to try to get him to play. When Tommy made no acknowledgement of him, Asher had started crying softly, going to Lucy and even trying to herd her with little nips and nudges at her heels towards him, before finally laying down next to Tommy, watching him with worried big brown eyes. 

Such a good boy. Always looking out for them. 

Trouble was also agitated. She kept rubbing herself against Tommy’s legs, meowing up at him curiously and hovering nearby, green eyes focused on him intently. 

Both animals clearly had picked up on their owners’ distress. Lucy couldn’t help but note how the clinginess that they had shown towards her after she’d first arrived home from the hospital had transferred over to Tommy. Like they knew that each of them had tried to take their own lives.  

Probably, at least on some level, they did. 

“Tommy,” she took a tentative step closer to him. He didn’t respond. She was starting to worry that his still burning cigarette would burn all the way down until it singed his fingers and he wouldn’t even notice. “Love,” she slid her hand into his hair, palm laying flat against the back of his skull. She managed to convince him to change out of his muddied clothes and take a quick bath to get the lingering dirt off his body before everyone had started showing up. He’d laid back in the tub, eyes staring up at the ceiling while she sat on a stool beside him and he let her wash him. His hair was soft and smelled nice from the soaps she’d lathered in it, fingers working carefully to massage the crusting dirt from the dark strands without pulling on them. 

Again, she was struck at how sharply their positions had reversed from where they’d been only a few days ago. 

Going to perch on the desk in front of him, she took the cigarette from between his fingers, stubbing it out in the ashtray and caressing the side of his face. 

There was a soft knock on the door. Lucy sighed. 

“Come.”

The door opened, and Lizzie slipped in. “Ada finally got Arthur to go to sleep.”

Lucy let out a breath of relief. “Good.”

“Pretty much everyone else is heading to bed. I told them they could all stay in the spare rooms, if they liked. Ada said that she would sleep in Arthur’s room with him. To make sure he doesn’t get up in the middle of the night and…you know.”

“Good.”

“And…Charlie says that he’s found a wagon that he thinks will be suitable.”

Lucy swallowed hard. “Right. Assuming nothing changes, I think we can still plan on lighting the fire tomorrow, then.”

Lizzie took a step forward, holding out an envelope. “Johnny Dogs came back with this.”

Lucy hopped off the desk and went to take it from her. She turned it around, flicked it open and checked the contents inside. Satisfied, she tucked the envelope away into her pocket. “Are Michael and Gina still up?”

“I think so. They’re in the west sitting room.”

“Right,” she hesitated, glancing over at Tommy. Trouble had hopped up to curl in his lap. She didn’t want to leave him, but they had both agreed that this needed to be done, and she didn’t trust anyone else to do it. 

Lizzie noticed her nerves. “I can stay with him,” she offered, voice lowering so only Lucy could hear.

Lucy frowned, remembering the bullets Lizzie had thrown at him.

“I promise that I won’t…” Lizzie sighed. “I’m sorry for what I did out there in the field. It wasn’t right.”

Lucy eyed her carefully. “I’m sorry that I slapped you,” she said finally. To her surprise, Lizzie just shrugged with a small smile.

“Call it even?”

Lucy frowned, unsure if she would ever entirely be able to forget Lizzie baiting the love of her life into trying to shoot himself again. But she couldn’t be fighting with Lizzie right now. Plus, they’d finally managed to get to an at least somewhat good place with each other. She shouldn’t throw that away. For everyone’s sake. 

“Alright.” Walking around the desk, she bent to kiss Tommy’s forehead. “I’m gonna go deal with Michael and Gina, love. I’ll be right back.”

His face turned to her, hand shooting out to grab her arm. “Be careful.”

“I will. Don’t worry.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ll only be a minute,” she told Lizzie, who had plopped down onto the loveseat and lit a cigarette.  

She made her way to the sitting room with hurried steps, fingers flexing at her sides. Without bothering to knock, she blew through the door, striding in to find Michael and Gina standing together by the window, speaking in hushed voices. Their heads whipped around when she came in, immediately going silent. Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Scheming again, are we?”

Michael scowled. “What do you want, demon?”

“You know,” she stepped deeper into the room. There was an untouched plate of little appetizers that Frances must have brought for them at some point. Lucy plucked one up and popped it into her mouth. “I take that title as a compliment.” 

Hands shoving into her pockets, she leaned against the wall, looking over the pair of would-be-usurpers lazily. 

“You can stay for the funeral,” she said slowly. “But then you need to leave. I think it’s well past time you both returned to America, eh?”

Gina’s lips curled back from her teeth. “How dare you try to tell us–”

“If it were up to me,” Lucy talked right over her. She didn’t even really pay the little brat any mind at all, her gaze fixed squarely on Michael. “We’d have slit both your throats and sunk you in the canal the second after you proposed that fucking restructuring of the company. But Tommy, in honor of your mother’s memory, has decided to be merciful.” Reaching into her pocket, she tossed the envelope Lizzie had given her onto the table between them. “That’s two tickets for the train to Liverpool, and two tickets for a ship departing for New York in two days’ time. First class, of course.”

Michael didn’t look at the envelope. Instead he merely stared at her, eyes burning with hatred. 

“It’s his fault she’s dead.”

“No. It was the IRA and fascists who killed her, Michael.”

“Yeah, and he’s doing fuck all to punish them for it!”

“It’s been less than twenty four hours since he was weeping over her body in the driveway. What do you expect him to have done in that time?” A scoff left her lips, shaking her head. “Petulant child. All you’re looking for is an excuse to kill him and steal his throne. It’s what you’ve been planning from the beginning, right? Since you came back from America, if not before. And now you’re grasping for a justification of it. Because you need to convince yourself that she wouldn’t have hated you for trying to hurt Tommy. But let’s not pretend that killing him wasn’t what you were planning to do long before Polly was dead, Michael.”

Michael’s jaw worked. “She would have chosen me.”

Lucy chuckled, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe. I guess we’ll never really know, will we?” 

Michael broke eye contact with her, looking away with his nostrils flaring. 

Lucy cocked her head. “She always loved your sister more than you.” She saw the blow hit. The way that Michael flinched almost imperceptibly at it. Good. She was done playing nice. She wanted to hurt him.

Taking a step forward, she drew herself to her full height, schooling her features into the immovable mask of cold sternness and wrath that was the Red Demon. 

“As a result of your attempts to undermine and usurp the boss, and your repeated defiance, petulance, and incompetence, you are no longer a member of this Shelby family. By order of the Peaky Blinders. We do not trust you. And we do not want you here. You are to leave after the funeral, or I am free to deal with both of you as I see fit.” 

Michael’s expression was one of complete, burning fury. He seemed to be shaking a little with it. But he made no movement towards her, nor tried to argue against her declaration. Lucy held eye contact with him for a few more beats, then turned and walked from the room without another word. 

When she returned to the office, it was to find Tommy and Lizzie still there. Trouble was batting around a ball of yarn across the rug that Lizzie must have set out for her. Both Tommy and Lizzie were watching her quite intently. They looked up when Lucy came in. 

“It’s done.”

“It went alright?” Tommy asked, tapping a fresh cigarette into the ashtray. 

“As well as can be expected.”

“Right,” Lizzie stood. “I’m going to go check that the children are asleep and then I’m going to bed. Unless either of you need anything?”

They both shook their heads.

“Alright,” she went to the desk, giving Tommy a peck on the forehead and then turning to Lucy, bending to kiss her cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” they both mumbled after her. 

Once she was gone, Lucy went to Tommy, sliding her arms around his shoulders and tucking her face into his neck. 

“It’s late. Let’s go to bed, hm? Come on.” Entwining their fingers together, she pulled him from his chair and led him to the door. Behind them, she heard the soft pad of Asher and Trouble’s paws trailing after them.  

She took him to her room, closing the door once both Asher and Trouble slipped in after them, then thought of Michael still lurking in the house somewhere, and locked it. Just in case.

With numb, almost automated movements, Tommy took off all his clothes save for his underwear and climbed into bed. Lucy wondered if he even was aware of what he was doing, or if he merely was running on instinct while his mind dissociated somewhere very far away. Stripping down to her knickers, she decided it was too much work to root around her wardrobe for one of her nightgowns, instead merely snagging one of his soft cotton Henley��s and pulling that on. When she turned back to the bed, Tommy was sitting there, legs half drawn up to his chest and his back bent, playing with his fingers and watching her with eyes full of deep longing and sorrow. 

Checking one last time that the animals were tucked away in their respective beds, she climbed into her side of the big bed, reaching over the flick off the light. Shifting to recline against the pillows, she fixed her gaze on Tommy’s figure next to her, still hunched over, twiddling with his fingers. When she curled her hand around his shoulder to try to get his attention, she found his skin to be a little clammy. He sighed, letting her coax him to lay down beside her. In the dark, she could just make out the way that he was staring up at the canopy, lips trembling and throat flexing. Moments away from crying. 

It hurt her to see him like this. So broken and devastated beyond belief. 

“Come here, love,” she pulled him into her arms, his head resting on her chest. She began to card her fingers through his thick dark hair, hoping it would help to soothe him. She was under no illusions that he probably wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight–neither of them would. 

His shoulders started to shake, arms going around her, and suddenly a ragged, broken sob tore from his throat, sounding like he had tried to stifle it but failed.

“Tommy…”

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, clinging to her tightly, body half collapsing in on itself with the force of his cries. “I’m so, so sorry, Lucy. Please don’t leave me. Please, please. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. Just please…” he looked up at her, expression laid bare, completely vulnerable and pleading. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

Tears welled into her own eyes, taking hold of both of his cheeks. “I won’t. I won’t, I promise. I’ll never leave you again.”

“I love you so much,” he hiccupped, burrowing deeper against her, as if he were trying to meld them into one being. “I need you.” 

“I love you too. I love you more than anything, Tommy,” she shushed him gently, tightening her hold on him. “I know. I know. It’s okay.” Kissing the top of his head, she nuzzled into him and rubbed his back, lump in her throat growing at his quiet cries against her chest. She could feel the dampness of his tears seeping into her skin. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Throughout the entire night, he wept in her arms, and the whole time, she held him as tightly as she could. Until his sobs gave way to quiet crying, to sniffles, and finally he fell into a fitful sleep against her. 

Lucy remained awake, a little afraid to fall asleep in case he woke in the middle of the night and needed her. 

Was this what he had felt like after she’d cut her wrists? No wonder he’d been reluctant to let her out of his sight since then. 

She squeezed him a little tighter, both out of wanting to comfort him even in his sleep, and out of guilt for what she’d put him through.   

Silver moonlight was filtering in through a crack in the curtains.

 It caught and glinted briefly against the gold of his wedding ring, where it rested on the hand he had settled on her hip. She stared at it numbly. 

She had almost completely forgotten the train ticket that she’d purchased. Still likely hidden under the mattress in her room at Charlie’s. She doubted that anyone had found it yet. But   dealing with getting the train and ship tickets for Michael and Gina had reminded her of it. 

She could not leave him. Not after everything that had just happened. Not when she knew that he still loved her and wanted her in his life. Not when she still loved him. And certainly not after it was just all but confirmed to her that she was still the only one able and willing to take care of him. There had been a time when she thought that maybe Lizzie would actually be up to the task, but that was before she’d openly tossed bullets at him mere moments after he tried to shoot himself. 

She could not trust Lizzie. Not with this. Not with Tommy’s life and wellbeing. 

But could she live with the guilt that remaining would bring? It would never be completely smooth sailing with Lizzie. And she still felt the burn of self hatred for what she’d put her through. What she continued to put her through. Would she be able to let that go? To allow herself to be at peace with the choices they’d made and not forever seek to punish herself for the crime of being the recipient of Tommy’s love? 

She honestly didn’t know. She supposed she would have to, if she wanted to stay. It was that or be torn apart by guilt and self hatred. 

He’d promised that he would help her. All she had to do was let him. 

Let it go, Lucy. Let the guilt go, and be happy.

In his sleep, Tommy turned over, eyes still closed. “Lucy?”

She shifted closer, squeezing her arms around him. “I’m right here.”

“Mm,” he nuzzled into her chest. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t, sweetheart,” she promised, kissing his forehead. “I won’t leave you alone.”

He snuffled, then settled back down into sleep. Lucy kissed his temple and settled more heavily into the mattress, with him still clutched tightly in her arms.  

∗ ∗ ∗

The smoke barely cleared from the funeral wagon and Tommy was pulling away, turning to stride off into the trees. Lizzie called for him quietly, a hand reaching out to try to grasp at his shoulder but he shook her off, not even turning to look at her. Lucy waited only a small beat before following him, keeping her eyes trained on the ground in front of her, not wanting to have to deal with the rest of the family’s gaze that she was sure was fixed upon them.

He had come to a stop at a small creek, settled down on a rock with his gloved hands clasped in front of him. Lucy sat herself carefully down beside him, her shoulder brushing his gently. This was better. In the quiet of nature, without the tears of the family or Michael’s furious eyes.

They all were likely convening now, muttering to themselves about how heartless their patriarch was, unable to shed a tear even at his own aunt’s funeral.

They had not been there, when he pulled the cloth away to reveal Polly’s lifeless eyes. They had not seen as his buried his face in his hands and wept. How she’d had to put her arms around him for fear that if she didn’t he would collapse completely.  

Now her small hand looped around him to rub at one strong shoulder. Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, body drooping. Lucy let her head settle on his shoulder. She was hit with a sudden wave of deja vu, of memories of sitting with him alone outside in the dark near Arrow House. On those nights after Grace died and neither of them could stand to be in that mansion for one more minute. They would sit, their arms around one another, often both quietly weeping as they watched the flames of the fire they’d built dance before them. 

How cruel this world was to make them bury so many that they loved. 

“Fuck,” Tommy mumbled, lifting his head from where he bowed it. Lucy hummed softly and closed her eyes. Tommy shook his head and leaned back, blue eyes gazing at the sky. “Everyone I love dies.”

She sat up, head lifting from its home on his shoulder. She didn’t know what to say to make any of this better. She knew that he felt cursed; that his presence did nothing but bring misery and pain to everyone he cared about. 

“Not me,” she replied hoarsely. And not for lack of trying, either. With how many close brushes with death she had managed to survive, she was beginning to think that maybe she really was unkillable like some of the people in Small Heath whispered. Tommy glanced down at her with those devastated eyes. She cracked a tiny smile, “Apparently I’m gonna live forever.”

His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. He tucked a red lock of hair behind her ear, thumb rubbing along her cheek. Turning her head, her eyes peered up at him. He continued to pet her cheek, his expression dropping as he stared at her.

“Did I ruin your life?”

Startled by the question, her brows furrowed, immediately shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t even have a life if it weren’t for you.” 

Tommy looked at her with such heartbreakingly sad eyes that it made her chest ache to just look at them.

“I could have protected you from Matthew and your father without dragging you into any of this. You could have had a good, normal, easy life somewhere.” He looked back at the creek, eyes tracking the way that the water rushed past, carrying bits of leaves and debris with it.

“Boring,” she remarked with a click of her tongue. Her head cocked curiously. “Why didn’t you?”

“I liked you,” he shrugged. “You made me feel…I didn’t have to be Thomas Shelby with you. I could just be Tommy.” He glanced back at her again. “You were pretty. And smart. And loyal. And you intrigued me. I wanted to keep you close.”

“Am I not still all of those things?” she teased lightly.

“You know what I mean,” he chastised in a failed attempt to hide his amusement. She grasped his arm, lifting it to wrap around her shoulders, snuggling into his warm side. Her gloved hand stroked his jaw.

“If I had the chance to go back to when I made that deal with you on the bridge, I wouldn’t change a thing,” her forehead rested against his. “Not one bit of it.”

“I love you.” 

Her eyes fluttered. “I love you, too.”

They sat there for a while, listening to the birds chirp and the brook babble. 

“Are we going to try to kill Mosley again?”

“No.”

She was a little taken aback at how immediate his response was. “No?”

He shook his head furiously. “These people who stopped us this time…clearly they want very badly to keep him alive.” His arm tightened a little around her. “I can’t lose anymore of you.” 

Understandable, and she knew better than to try to push the matter. At least not right now. She’d still like to see the fascist bastard bleed, sometime. 

“I’ve decided to stop drinking.” 

She jerked. “You what?”

He nodded, slowly. “It’s been addling my mind. Keeping me from thinking as clearly. And…”

She shifted a little closer to him, raising an eyebrow curiously. “And…?” she coaxed. 

Tommy looked at her softly. Regretfully. “It almost lost me you. If I hadn’t been so drunk that night Lizzie came to me with her deal, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to it.”

She reached up to cup his face, resting her forehead on his. “I’ll quit with you. Solidarity.”  

His lips twitched upwards. “You don’t have to…”

“It’s alright. It would probably be good for my liver, anyway.” She gave him a stern look. “I’m not giving up smoking, though.” 

“Oh, absolutely not.”

She giggled, pecking his lips. When she pulled back, he was smiling at her softly, thumb rubbing against her cheek.

He hesitated, wetting his lips, smile falling, one hand sliding down to dip under the left sleeve of her coat, stroking his fingertips across the bandages on her wrists. The pain in his eyes doubled. Lucy leaned closer to him. 

“Stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” she mumbled, shaking her head. Tommy’s eyes snapped up to hers. 

“You–”

“Massively overreacted? Yeah, something like that.”

He shook his head. “You were in pain. It…It wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t yours either.”

“I wasn’t there for you…”

“You were trying to be. I was the one who kept shutting you out.” With a sigh, she drew her knees in closer to her chest. It was chilly out there in the middle of the woods. Her hand began to stroke along his arm. “What about you?”

“Hm?” 

“You held a gun to your head, Tommy.” She swallowed dryly around the words. The way he had screamed while she was searching for him in the mist still haunted her. Visions of variations of that moment, where Arthur didn’t think to take the bullets out, ran through her mind. The crack of gunfire. The splatter of brains meeting dirt. The thud of his lifeless body hitting the ground.

She huddled in closer to him, slipping a hand into his coat to more distinctly feel the warmth of his body. A reminder that he was still there with her.  

“I’m alright.”

“Very convincing, love,” she huffed sarcastically. “Just promise me that you aren’t…” she choked on the words, closing her eyes. “Promise me you aren’t going to try to do it again.”

The pads of his fingers rubbed across her cheek. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with a blue gaze full of understanding. “I promise if you promise.”

She supposed that was fair, angling her head against his shoulder to more properly meet his eyes. “I promise.”

He kissed her nose, starting to idly play with her fingers. Lucy tugged off one of his gloves so that she could trace across the faint scar that still marked his palm, a twin to the one she had on hers. “You’re all I have, you know that?”

“So are you.”

She shook her head with a small, self deprecating laugh. “You have your family…”

“Do I?” 

“They love you, Tommy.”

“Yeah,” he shifted, leaves crunching beneath him. “To a point.”

There was nothing she could say to argue against that. Instead she just squeezed him tighter.

“I don’t want to live without you,” he brushed his hand across her face, thumb stroking up and down her cheek. “I don’t think that I can.”

“Me neither,” she whispered, understanding.  

He kissed her forehead, the other arm joining the one already around her to squeeze her against him. Together they sat quietly, listening to the sounds of the forest and the creek around them. 

An idea came to her. “Let’s swear it.”

Tommy raised his head to look at her. “What?”

She looked into his eyes, deadly serious. “Let’s swear that we won’t live without one another.” She reached out to stroke her thumb along his bottom lip. “If one of us dies, so does the other.”

He looked into her eyes for a long, long time. And then he reached into his pocket and procured a switchblade. The silver blade popped out with a sharp click. He flexed open his palm, bringing the knife to the faded scar made from their blood bond. Forged so many years ago. He sliced into the skin cleanly, deep enough to have blood welling from the wound, but not so deep as to cause any real damage. Lucy pulled off her gloves, holding her scarred palm out to him. He drew the blade along the scar carefully, kissing her temple when she hissed at the sting. 

Bleeding hands raising, they pressed them flush against each other, staring intently into each other’s eyes. And then entwined their fingers, squeezing their palms together, their blood mixing. Like it had that time they created their blood bond in 1918. Like when the paramedics had transfused his blood into her to keep her alive. 

His blood ran through her veins. He was a part of her. Forever. They were merged. Blurred together. One.  

“If you go; I go,” Tommy said, his face so close to hers that she could count his eyelashes. 

“If you go; I go,” she repeated. Their hands squeezed even tighter against each other. Their mixed blood dripped to run down their arms and splatter onto the ground. 

Tommy kissed her, Lucy’s fingers weaving into his hair and keeping his face close when he did. 

The pact was complete.

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[tristanacer]

Tristan was crouched as he took in the hospital. She was not wrong. "Yeah...they are." And they were mixed in with the staff of the place too so he needed to be careful of them as well. Of course, there are drones too.

"Definitely way more going on in there with how secure they have this place." He mumbled and scanned the place through his binoculars. He stashed it and reached for his M4A1.

"No. Stay here." If something happened in there then she could at least still help assist. "You can tell me if more of these assholes arrive." Tristan reached up and reversed his cap.

He made his way down after checking all his gear and comms with her as he got further away. With the patrols and other locations in mind, he made it inside. Here and there he had to take a few out because there was no way for him to get where he needed to without giving himself away.

Slow and steady. A few close calls and threatening a few staff here and there if they dare say anything. A few were even helpful in giving him the location of Emmett

Eventually, he made it to Emmett's room. On his way there through the lab, he noticed a few details that had made him nervous. A few warning labels indicated that they were working with infectious agents but this was a hospital. Of course, labs would work with these kinds of things, right?

Tristan found Emmett and he looked sick. The man wasn't responding so Tristan made his way towards the door, which was surprisingly not locked in any way. The moment he entered, Emmett opened his eyes and full of panic managed to stop Tristan from getting closer to him. Tristan stepped out and listened through the observation window.

A chill went through his spine when Emmett explained what was happening and what had happened to him and Kyle. They were so royally fucked! A damn virus...and Emmett and Kyle were both infected. The worst part was that Kyle was already at Erewhon. He watched Emmett through the glass as the man passed out again. Death would soon take him and there was nothing Tristan could do for him.

He needed to get the word out to Mads. He reached up to get Shi on comms.

"We got a huge fucking problem. Emmett is as good as dead. He and Kyle, yes Kyle, as in Maria's brother, are both infected with a virus." He went quiet a moment when he heard voices. Letting them pass. "Kyle is already at Erewhon." There was the little detail where Kyle hadn't escaped but got released instead.

It didn't take long to trek to the location from where they had been. Shiloh crouched a bit back. Taking another look at the hospital this time, actually looking. She noticed the sentinel security crawling all over it. "Jesus, they are like roaches..."

Looking at Tristan, she narrowed her eyes. "This isn't just gonna be a sneak and go Acer." She pulled out her binoculars, watching them for a few minutes. "I can take the lead, and you can clean up behind me. Or are you dead set on doing this alone?"

[torturedpoetsdepartmentemployee]

Some people might side eye me but I'm just going to say it.

One Piece Grandpas can still get it.