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heavenlyraindrops · 1 month ago

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The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Twenty

available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag for other chapters | warnings: profanity, smoking, threats

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Twenty:

You stared at the heavy chained padlock, and then the blueprints Donna handed you. Your eyes roamed over the sketch.

“We had them redraw the original lock, every little detail,” she said. “And this is what we got.” She struggled to lift the heavy lock. You waved your hand at her and she dumped it back on the table. You leaned down to inspect it.

“It’s pretty much the same,” you muttered. “They’d never notice.”

“The key system is different,” she added, and handed you a wrought metal key. “This cost us a lot, you know.”

You plucked the key from her hand, holding it up to the light. “It’s fine,” you muttered distractedly. You snapped your eyes back to her, gaze re-focusing. “We need to test the metal.”

“Right, I’ll gather-“

“No, me and you.” You grinned at her as she blanched. “It’ll be a bonding exercise.”

She scoffed at that, not bothering to protest and instead turning to leave the room. The beads tinkled in her wake.

Over the next week or so you’d tested the metal under every possible weapon under the sun. ‘[name], do we really need to run a truck over it?’ Unfortunately, the truck did break it, but you figured it would be a while until they decided to run a truck over the front door- or even figured out how to.

The chainsaw had only cracked it a little. After all was said and done, you and Donna both looked at each other and nodded. The answer was clear- this would buy you enough time to set up a small space on the bottom floor to rival theirs, if you worked quickly and tirelessly.

“This is a huge stretch,” Donna said nervously. You shrugged, dropping the giant heated knife you were holding. The metal chain of the lock had melted a little where the blade had cut it, but hadn’t been cut through completely.

“So what? Even if they find out, I don’t care.” You tossed the knife onto the ground. It clattered and sizzled. “This is just a throwaway effort to fuck with them a little. We won’t get far.”

Donna hummed, crossing her arms. “It’ll cost a lot.”

“So what? I’m richer than half of Zaun combined.”

She snorted. “Love to see a humble woman these days,” she snarked. You laughed, nudging the hot metal with your foot.

“I don’t need to lie to be humble. I’m loaded; it’s a fact.”

“Incredibly humble.”

You nudged her forcefully. “Just- piss off. Go send someone to commission more locks. Say we’ll fund the supply of the metal on top of the payment.”

Donna wrinkled her nose. “What even is that stuff?”

You shrugged. “Probably metal on Shimmer. Go on, then.” Donna rolled her eyes and stalked away. You put your hands on your hips and pushed your goggles, which you’d worn for safety purposes, over your head. You looked out over the empty, abandoned scrap yard. You might get someone to clean it out later- it would come in handy. You were surprised it hadn’t been found and the scraps taken to sell already, but you weren’t complaining.

You turned to leave.

The lock was on. It had been on for two days.

“I can’t believe we got away with this,” Donna said, awe-struck. You took a drag of your cigarette and rolled your eyes.

“We won’t get away with it for long,” you remarked, flipping the page of an old book. The paper had yellowed with age but the words were still readable. You’d nicked it from Hilda’s shop, years ago, and had never found the courage to throw it away.

“Okay, but it’s been two days, we’ve worked around the clock, and there’s already a good set-up in there.”

“Shocking how they haven’t noticed,” you muttered thoughtfully, eyes still fixated on the pages. You looked up at Donna. She was zoned out, eyes glazed over with wonder. You snapped your fingers at her. “Back to reality, please.”

She flinched, eyes flicking back to you. “S-sorry. Just. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“What I wanted was to rile them up, but I didn’t expect it to fucking work.” Your finger ran across the edge of the page. “I haven't planned this far ahead. Do you think they’ve noticed?”

“Maybe if they take the padlock to get inspected,” Donna quipped. You frowned, leaning back on the cushions and taking another drag. Smoke curled from your mouth as you spoke.

“I don’t know if he’d do that or not, or just have it broken off.”

Donna paused. “All you wanted to do was rile them up?”

You sat up straight again. “Yeah. And-“ you held up a finger. “We can’t afford to be predictable.” Donna blinked at you, confused, so you launched into an explanation. “We need to do anything and everything under the sun. Smart things, stupid things, risky things, play it safe- so they can never know what we’ll do next.”

Donna nodded along, transfixed.

“The play with the employee trade was a safe one, a smart one. I was reasonable and fair.” You stubbed out the cigarette on your ashtray. “Now it’s time to be unreasonable.”

“You give great speeches.”

Your face lit up. “Thank you!”

“I was being sarcastic.”

Your face fell. You went back to the book.

‘Julia’s eyes followed the rooftops, wind swaying in her hair as he leaned his head on hers. That was the moment she realized: one kiss, and this moment would be sealed in time forever.’

It was ridiculously soppy. You shut the book.

“This is a bad move, but it’ll throw them off.”

Donna was silent for a while, until she finally spoke. Her voice was gravely quiet. “I can feel it all coming to a head.”

You tossed the book onto the table and took a drag of your cigarette. The title glinted in the honeyed light.

“So can I.”

Apparently Allison had been incessantly whining at Elliot to take her to the secret camp in the factory. You’d found him standing by a shipment of weapons, with her clinging to his arm. He looked greatly uncomfortable as you grabbed Allison and dragged her back.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You snapped. The girl looked up at you before crossing her arms, wordless. You shook her a little.

“Disobeying my direct orders?” You snapped furiously. You grabbed her by the ear and she cried out in protest, feet stumbling over each other as you dragged her back into the Haven. Once you were inside, you released her, shoving her as you did. She staggered back across the carpet.

“Do you have a death wish?” You hissed. Her eyes widened as she guiltily looked at her feet. Your fingers twitched with the familiar urge to throw something across the room. “I forbid you to go anywhere near the conflict. You’re not old enough.”

“He wouldn’t have taken me anyways,” the girl replied defensively. You stiffened, feeling the eyes of workers and patrons on you, the room hushing. You flashed them a quick smile, smoothing down your hair.

“Kids, am I right,” you laughed. You looked back at Allison and the glare settled back on your face, as you leaned in, lowering your voice. “You’re gonna go upstairs, you brat, and you’re not coming down until you realise just how serious it is.”

“That’s not fair!” Alice wailed, but you didn’t have the patience for her petulance,

“Now!” You snapped, and she whirled around, charging up the stairs. You scowled, straightening up and dusting yourself off. You whirled around on your heel and disappeared into your office, slamming the door in your wake.

The brothel resumed its usual hushed bustle. Inside the office, you paced around, trembling fingers lighting up a cigarette. Someone knocked on your door.

“Not now,” you snapped, irritated as you took a deep inhale of your cigarette. The doorknob turned anyways, much to your displeasure. Sevika stepped in.

“Janna, your office reeks of smoke.” She wrinkled her nose and you scowled, resisting the urge to flick the roll-up at her and set the whole place on fire in the process.

“You smell like alcohol and a shower allergy,” you snapped back. She raised her eyebrows.

“Kitty’s got claws today, I see,” she remarked, stepping into the office and shutting the door. You groaned, stretching as she made herself comfortable on the couch.

“What do you want?” You complained. Sevika raised an eyebrow, cocking her head. It made your blood boil.

“The lock on the front door of the factory seems to have suddenly stopped working.”

“So?” You asked indignantly, taking another drag of the cigarette and willing your leg to stop shaking.

“So, what do you know about it?”

“You sure the key hasn’t broken?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’, and you scowled, stepping forward.

“Well, what do you need it for?”

“Excuse me?”

“What do you need the key for? Since when are you going in and out? Since when have you started locking it?”

“Since we’ve taken it over,” she replied evenly, watching your temper rise with much enjoyment. You leaned over her, cigarette hovering close to her face. You took a slow drag, never breaking eye contact, and slowly blew the smoke in her face. She turned it away, furrowing her brow, but you grabbed her jaw and turned her back to face you forcefully. Her eyes watered from the smoke.

“You haven’t taken over anything,” you murmured. “You can’t even get into your own building.”

“It’s of your interest too,” she muttered as you hovered the cigarette over her neck, the heat warming her skin.

“Not my problem yet.”

“We’ve tried breaking the lock. It’s barely cracked.” Her eyes settled on you, her silence expectant. You scowled.

“So what? You want me to help you unlock the building?” You laughed, and her scowl grew.

“There’s been reports of activity in the building,” she began slowly. You stared at her, bemused.

“…Okay? Do I look like I give a fuck?”

Sevika suddenly grabbed your wrist and you tensed up, trying to pull away from her. Her grip only tightened, and you hissed at the bone-crushing pressure.

“[name], one day we are going to bust open that lock,” she said darkly, eyes trained on yours. You smirked. “And you and I both know what we’re gonna find in there.”

You shrugged innocently. “No idea what you’re talking about,” you replied smoothly, as her grip loosened on your wrist, her hand slipping away.

You put out the cigarette on her neck, and she exhaled sharply. You pulled away, admiring the burn mark, then chuckled, spinning around on your heel to flick the cigarette onto the table.

“Donna should be in the lobby,” you smirked. She scowled, dusting herself off as she stood up.

“That won’t be necessary,” she growled. She turned to spin on her heel, but just as she did, the beaded curtain flew aside and Donna ran in. Sevika dodged her as she hurtled towards you, throwing herself at you.

It took you a few moments to register that Donna was sobbing into your shoulders. You stiffened, confused, before wrapping your arms around her. “…You okay?”

Donna clung to you like a child to its mothers leg. Sevika turned towards you both and frowned. You could feel hot tears on your shoulder.

“I- the- and the-“ she hiccuped, the words barely registering. You hushed her, smoothing your hands over her back. You looked up at Sevika.

“I think you should go,” you said with finality. Sevika was frozen to the spot. “Let’s drop the subject of our little conversation for good, shall we? For-“ your eyes slid to Donna, “-All our sakes.”

You smirked and lifted a hand to point at Donna’s head with two fingers, mimicking a gun. You pretended to shoot it with a flick of your hand, mouthing:

‘Pew.’

You could see the conflict simmering behind Sevika’s eyes as she stared at you with ill-concealed horror, before whirling around to leave. You could hear the front door slamming in the wake of her heavy footsteps.

Once the office had grown silent you peeled Donna away from your arms. “What’s wrong?” You asked, concerned. Donna straightened up and wiped her eyes, face falling into an expression of indifference.

She shrugged. “I’m fine. Just sounded like you needed Sevika out of here.”

You grinned.

The book thumped onto the table. Silco raised his head, frowning. His hair wasn’t tied back, instead flowing freely around his face, and the dark swipes of eyeliner beneath his eyes had smudged a little.

“Julia and the Wickerlight,” he read the title aloud, and pulled a face at the cheesy cover. “What’s all this, then?”

“It’s a novel,” you said excitedly. “I nicked it from Hilda today.” At the amused look on his face, you straightened up. “I’ll give it back after I finish it. She won’t even notice it’s gone.”

He chuckled. “Right.” He picked it up, turning it over. “Is this a romance? It looks awful.”

You scoffed, slumping into the booth opposite him. “What do you know about novels? I’m sure it’s better than those ledgers you look at all day. When you close your eyes at night, do you dream about numbers?”

“Do you dream about romance?” He challenged you, and you scoffed, burying yourself into the booth and crossing your arms. He laughed at your mortified expression, and with a deft flick of his wrist the thin hardback slid across the rough wood towards you.

“I don’t read much,” you admitted, picking up the book. “So I’ll take anything I can get. Novels are hard to come by in Zaun.”

“That they are,” he agreed. You looked up at him, and he paused. “Wait. Is this your first time reading a novel?”

“No!” You spluttered, and he burst out laughing at your bad lie. You began to panic, face turning red. “W-wait! It’s not my fault.”

He wiped his eyes, then looked up at you, still grinning widely. “Calm down, darling. I won’t bully you for not ever enjoying a good story.”

“I was a broke orphan in the undercity,” you snapped defensively. “Where would I find a novel?”

He hummed indulgently, but he was still smirking. You slammed the book onto the table.

“Well, after today, I will be enjoying a good story. So hah!”

He snickered again, and the triumphant look on your face faltered. He leaned over to tap the cover with a long finger. “You’ll enjoy a good story, yes. Not sure about the ‘good’ part, or even the ‘enjoy’ part, although-“ he snapped his fingers, “-you do seem like the type to have awful taste.”

“Excuse me?” You gasped, shocked. You leaned over and swiped his drink, which was left neglected beside the open ledger he’d been inspecting, and swirled it around. You took a sip. “I have wonderful taste.”

“In what? Awful novels?”

You smiled at him, fluttering your lashes. “In friends.”

His face turned slightly red and he quickly looked away from you as you took another sip, eyes never leaving his. “Flattery won’t work on me.”

“Aww.” You pouted, then shoved the drink back to him. A little droplet rolled down the side of the cup. “What a shame.”

He cleared his throat. “Let’s just drop this, shall we?”

“Of course,” you giggled, earning yourself a swat from him.

“Go away. I’m trying to read.”

You stood up, turning as if you were about to leave. But just as you least expected it you lunged into his side of the booth, tackling him as you shoved him for a seat. He yelped, the drink sloshing about before he set it down. “Get off of me!”

“No,” you laughed, straddling his lap. “You’re a killjoy.” There was a small dusting of coal on his cheekbone. You swiped at it, and his blush turned deeper. “I’m going to fix your eyeliner now.”

“That’s not necessary-“

You were already shoving your hand into his jacket pocket, before pushing his chest. He fell back, letting out a small noise of protest as you leaned over him, uncapping the eyeliner pencil. His loose hair spread across the leather of the seat unceremoniously.

“Must you crawl on top of me?” He muttered as you rubbed at the corners of his eyes with your thumb. He hissed, jerking his head away. “Stop doing that.”

You poised the pencil over his face. “It’s more fun this way.”

“For you. I’m being crushed.” His actions betrayed his words- he looked completely fine, as if the body weight you’d tossed on him barely bothered him at all. You fell silent, chewing your lip with concentration as you touched the pencil to skin. He sighed. “So what’s your stupid novel about?”

“There’s a girl called Julia,” you said slowly, focused at the task at hand. “And she falls in love with a boy who only lives as long as a magic candle burns.”

He shifted uncomfortably beneath you as your knee dug into his side. “What’s the boy’s name?”

“Nico.”

“Right. And this candle. It burns eternal?”

“Unless someone puts it out, yes.”

“Right.” His eyes fluttered shut, relishing your warm breath skimming across his face. “Tell me more.”

“Well, she has two sisters. Ciara and Elysia. And they help her protect her love’s candle.”

“Not a classic evil stepsister situation, then?”

You laughed a little, and he scrunched up his face. You frowned and flicked his forehead. “Stop moving your face,” you snapped. And then you sighed. “No. It’s not an evil stepsister situation. In fact, they’re the best sisters she could have asked for.”

“How does he keep it safe- before she meets him, I mean?”

“He keeps it in a special case, so no wind can blow it away.”

“So what does it need protecting from?”

“Well, there’s an evil witch-“ you’d just finished his second eye when he grabbed your wrist, pushing it away.

“Alright, that’s it.”

You huffed. “It’s not that bad.”

“Well, how does it end?”

“I suspect they vanquish the evil witch and live happily ever after.” You put the cap back on the eyeliner and straightened up to admire your handiwork. He rolled his eyes.

“See? Cliché. If I was writing it, I’d make the candle burn out, and everyone would die, and it would have a tragic ending.”

“I hope you never write a book,” came the grave reply.

“I’m very creative.”

You snorted derisively, before clambering off of him. He sat up, slightly dazed. His face was dusted with a light blush. You laughed at the absolute mess that was his hair, and stepped forward to run your hand through it, smoothing it down. He didn’t break eye contact with you.

The intense gaze that you tried to avoid made your heart start beating faster, and you looked away quickly, blushing.

“Very creative.”

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britcision · 6 months ago

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FRIENDS IT IS HERE. As promised even! We are technically just under 20k for this chapter, but still not small enough that cutting it in half has stopped it from brutally murdering the app, so…. We’ll see how this posts! 😅

I did myself a whole honkin’ reread on the whole thing too, refreshed my lil reminders of what I named things and all the lil threads I was playing with… and hot damn it’s a beast huh?

The good news is, although we are getting into plot, we are getting out of the heavy stuff, at least for the next little bit! Back to our silly happy fun times with the boys 🥰

And, y’know, dealing with Jason’s death and first transformation and all. Totally all fine! Nothing to worry about! 😇

Today’s chapter is a lil Bruce-heavy in this front half because the main thing stopping me was that I got most of the way through before I realized I needed to rewrite Jason’s entire first scene, but I’m a lot happier with it now 😁

First Chapter and AO3:

Previous Chapter:

——————————

The Finished Core part 1

When it finally happened, Jason’s core coming in was pretty anticlimactic. For all they’d worried it might trigger a transformation, rile up the pit, or even have a physical shockwave… the event itself was almost disappointing. Buried busily in some paperwork for the library, Jason himself hadn’t actually noticed.

He’d already started feeling what he thought might be his core over the past few days; like a vibrating ball of energy, usually in the middle of his chest (although it wandered in all directions). Which would make the knot of tension that sometimes sat in his gut and sometimes went as far up as his throat… probably Pitty.

Not fun having a distinct sensation that went along with everything else the Pit was. Did nothing at all to ease his worries about what the hell would happen when they were both actually completed.

But when the day finally came… yeah, nothing. The soft, warm glow in his chest when he thought about the project had grown steadily stronger over the week and a bit he’d known Danny at that point, so he hadn’t really paid enough attention to notice a change.

They’d still been seeing each other every day, although now that the new school semester had started up it had slowed down to a couple hours in the evening. Jason had dived headlong into his restoration project both on Frostbite’s advice, and to keep himself from counting the hours. Which, apparently, worked?

The biggest disruption was actually Danny blasting in through the wall not a minute later, invisible until he dived through one of Jason’s freshly legal goons and almost knocked the table over. Luckily there were no actual Red Hood links lying around - Catherine’s name was staying clean, which was for the best since Jason still hadn’t thought of a way to bring it up.

Even now, back from another appointment with Frostbite to confirm all was well, Jason didn’t actually feel any different? It was official though; both cores were complete, and now all they had to do was wait until the pit matured enough to actually leave Jason’s body and do its own thing.

Now that he didn’t have any choice but to confront it, he couldn’t have said what he’d expected anyway, but… well, surely there should have been something? More energy? More corruption? Hell, even increased ghost senses or some indication that the powers would be coming in.

According to Danny, intangibility usually came with the pit dropping out of your stomach and feeling floaty. Accidental floating came with a head rush or feeling like falling. Invisibility just fucking happened.

All he felt was weirdly normal? The fancy ecto ice was working, and his little ghost succulent - that or all the time with Danny; even Pitty’s flares of emotion were manageable. The green haze hadn’t come back since meeting Lady Gotham.

And okay, maybe he was pushing that by going right back to the manor the next day, but listen. Frostbite had reminded him to do calming tasks, since Pitty should start being more aware of their surroundings now.

Baking with Alfred was as calming and soothing as Jason could imagine, without stapling himself to Danny in classes. And sure, he’d helped with Danny’s homework the past couple nights, but the guy would get sick of him eventually. Faster if they stayed attached at the hip.

(And that had been another “fun” tidbit Frostbite had dropped on them; if they were actually making their own ghost baby, they’d have been able to trade the core off between them. Jason hadn’t thought anything could make that idea sound appealing, but if he coulda just stuffed Pitty into someone else… well, he probably wouldn’t actually wish its corruption and constant tantrums on anyone else, but having a break woulda been nice.)

Now that his core was done, technically the daily hanging out probably wasn’t as necessary. So long as Jason had some backup plans to keep himself calm and in control. Which should mean that they could go from hanging out as a necessary chore to just… friends.

And since no one in the city wound Jason up like Bruce, if he happened to also be at the manor he’d have a trial-by-fire for his shiny new core. He’d kept his word and tapped out of patrol since meeting Lady Gotham (and apparently Harley had taken the manor in fire and glory the night after and locked Bruce… somewhere for two full days), so he’d not heard from B since.

According to Tim, Constantine hadn’t returned to Gotham at all.

The thought of their names only stirred angry bubbles from Pitty, and Jason absolutely wasn’t self destructive or a masochist, so he was just testing to see how far that’d last. How careful he’d need to be, and how aware the little guy was.

So obviously he wasn’t even all the way into the manor before he ran into the man himself.

Stopping short, Jason’s fist clenched more from force of habit than any actual desire. Sucking in a deep breath, he thought of his ghost succulent (which had started glowing faintly blue a couple nights ago, which was hopefully a good thing?) and carefully unclenched. Nodded a little stiffly.

This would be the first time they’d been alone together since… shit, he didn’t even know. He hadn’t seen the guy without the buffer of at least one other bat in months.

“Bruce,” he said warily, half hoping the man could just… be normal. For once. Nod, say hi, fuck off about his own business. He couldn’t still be on his anti-Danny crusade, could he?

The man actually flinched, face twitching through a couple of expressions Jason couldn’t even guess at. A sudden urge between his shoulder blades did nothing to help, distracting him long enough for everything to be smoothed under the usual masks.

If Bruce just had a damn aura… okay, that’d be one change with the completed core. All of his attempts to reach out with his own aura before had basically involved his whole body actually leaning in the same direction.

That… urge, itch between his shoulders, if that had been his aura trying to reach out, felt more like an entirely new muscle group. Curiosity won and Jason focused, trying to follow the urge and reach out… and wasn’t sure it had worked at all.

Because all he could feel was sorrow and regret, and that didn’t sound like B. At all. His compartmentalizing was out the ass, sure, but what the hell would he actually feel sorry for?

“Jason?” And from the sound of it, not the first time he’d said his name. Great.

Shelving the apparently-faulty aura for now, Jason frowned back.

“I’m here to see Alfred.” It wasn’t exactly a warning. Wasn’t exactly a threat, although it carried the possibility. Meant that if B pissed him off enough to leave, he’d face some British disapproval.

Bruce’s shoulders sagged just a little, and then he drew himself up, his face firm and resolved. Jason tensed automatically; if he actually tried to bar him from seeing Danny face to face, would he still be able to walk away?

That was why he’d brought the glacierfrost. Slipping a hand into his back pocket, he crushed a crystal quickly before the man could open his mouth. Wintergreen mint burst across the back of his tongue, another brief flicker of distraction that, for some reason, came with another pang of sorrow.

“I’m sorry.”

Jason nearly stumbled, and he hadn’t even been moving. Bruce looked… tired, all of a sudden. More tired than he could remember ever seeing him.

“Wait… what?”

Bruce gave him a sad smile.

“It’s been brought to my attention… multiple times… that you should have heard that from me alone first. And then I kept adding more and more to be sorry for. And I know you don’t want to see me, so now seems like the best time to start.” It was jerky, and awkward, and probably the most uncomfortable Jason had ever seen Bruce in a conversation.

Which only served to confuse him further. Bruce overplanned everything; he never acted without at least two layers of backups. It was why he had a million plans for every possible micro-scenario. He didn’t do spontaneous.

“What are you even talking about?” He asked, half exasperated, and Bruce’s smile widened a fraction. That only made it more self deprecating.

“There are too many things to count, but… Jason, I’m sorry I sprung the apology on you at the gala. I thought having the world as my witnesses would show you I meant it, but I should have asked first. I should have apologized first, to you. Alone. I’m… aware what it says about me that I couldn’t.” He was almost wearing one of Brucie’s self-deprecating smiles now, but the edges were raw. Unpolished. Certainly not camera ready.

Real?

Jason’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his brain entirely short-circuited. Of all the things Bruce could have said to him… of all the things the man might apologize for, he’d honestly forgotten all about the damn gala speech.

Forcing himself to focus, he folded his arms and regarded his former father figure warily.

“Sure, that’s a place to start,” he agreed, more sarcastically than he’d meant to. But he couldn’t take it back.

There was another moment of stiffness, and then Bruce’s shoulders sagged as well as he breathed out, still looking… well, so much more human. More breakable, more fallible. Or was that just from hearing him admit he’d been wrong?

“I do mean it, Jason. I did mean it,” he said softly, piercing blue eyes unusually gentle as he looked him over, and suddenly Jason knew what was bothering him.

The mask. The iron mask of Batman, the bumbling shield of Brucie. B always had a mask, over every interaction. Every situation, every possible scene, B always had a character to play. And he played them well.

That was what looked wrong about him. He wasn’t… intentional. His posture was open and unthreatening, his face lax in a way it never was while he held every muscle in check.

This was just actual, sincere B.

Jason wasn’t completely sure why that made him want to run or cry, but it said a fuck of a lot about him too.

More that he just couldn’t bring himself to return it.

Sucking in a sharp breath, seriously considering grabbing for another crystal, he nodded sharply.

“Okay. Now what.” Because that was the thing; Jason had never wanted B to be sorry that he hadn’t come for Jason. That he finally hadn’t been on time to save him from himself.

He didn’t want the apology, he wanted things to change. To be better. For Bruce to accept that it had happened, and Jason was who he was now because he’d decided to be, not the pits or Tallia or the Joker.

He wanted so many things.

Bruce was searching his face, eyes sharp even as he consciously kept the rest of the expression open. Jason could see the tick of muscle in his cheek. Fuck, was it that hard for Bruce not to put on the act?

After a moment, he spread his hands. A gesture of peace? Not holding a weapon, not tensed for an attack?

“That’s all. For now. I just… wanted you to know. I’m sorry. And I’m…” the expression pulled a little, becoming pained, “I have been told I am overreacting to the news from Amity Park as well. I should trust your judgement. So I’m pulling myself from the case to focus on the Anti-Ecto Acts.”

This time Jason’s jaw just dropped. B… Bruce never. Never pulled himself from a case. Not for broken bones, ruptured organs, not even if he’d died.

It was almost worse than the rage; all of a sudden he was lost at sea, the one grounding, immovable rock in his life swept away. Part of him was even angry at that - at B suddenly deciding that now, this time he was going to be reasonable.

When all Jason expected from him was judgement, antagonism, stupid overbearing demands and being held at arm’s length, now all of a sudden the Bat was human.

It was too late to pretend the moment hadn’t happened, to completely hide his shock, but he also couldn’t stop the bluster from rising. Not the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously, even when every part of him that had been Robin desperately hoped this was real.

“And what the hell brought that on?” Not the accusation in his voice, although for once Bruce didn’t rise to it. He just chuckled dryly, like he’d been expecting Jason’s reaction.

“Because you were right.”

And now Jason was fully on edge again, scanning the man more closely for any signs of hypnotism, mind control, that this was a clone or a replacement. A trap or a trick. Because B… Bruce would never…

Bruce raised both hands quickly, possibly expecting Jason to just… jump him. Which, to be fair, would have been a more normal interaction.

“You were the one who brought the Amity Park situation to our attention. And you’re right, that I can’t expect your doctor or any other ghost to come here to help you until it is safe for them to do so,” he added quickly, and Jason rocked back onto his heels.

Of course, the caveat. That made sense, bitter in the back of his throat as it was. Just an inarguable set of facts.

Not like he’d ever actually admit that Jason’s judgement was reliable or anything. Folding his arms again (partly to stop his fists from clenching), he gave Bruce a sceptical look.

“Right, so what finally yanked your head out of your ass about it?” He asked sharply. Bruce gave him that same wry smile.

“Diana. And Harley. And Alfred. And Selena. I have been… extensively informed I had my head up my ass. So. I’m sorry for that too. I just wanted to tell you before I left, since I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

And it shouldn’t have been funny that he actually looked more pained talking about this, admitting a mistake, than he had when nursing broken ribs in the infirmary. Than he’d looked during any of their fights, than when Jason had all but grabbed his face and forced him to see that it really was him, that his dear little Robin came back wrong.

But dark humour was a refuge for all the bats, and if Jason didn’t laugh he had a horrible feeling he’d cry. All that tension, all those days he’d worried about what he’d say or do when they came face to face again… he’d never have imagined any of this.

Could imagine another bloody battle before imagining Bruce saying sorry.

All of a sudden he was just tired. Ha. Dead tired.

Nothing drained the life out of him like dealing with Bruce.

“Great. So where are you going?” It was almost a rhetorical question; he didn’t really expect an answer.

Should have, though. Obviously B had to stick his foot in it again.

“Amity Park. As Bruce Wayne, not Batman,” he added quickly when Jason’s head snapped up, glare sharpening, “it seems the logical place to begin work on the acts.”

And alright, Bruce didn’t sound defensive. He never did; just obstinate, which meant so many things that guessing when it meant what was a losing game.

Jason groaned loudly, raising both hands to scrub down across his face. Because of course all that weirdness hadn’t changed a damn thing. B was gonna B, creepy and intrusive and all.

“And look into Danny.” He said flatly, locking eyes with Bruce in time to see his expression twitch. Was he actually gonna lie?

Apparently not. Bruce sighed and nodded.

“My focus will be on establishing a connection between “Brucie” and the Anti-Ecto Acts, and investigating the GIW. Danny has been involved in both, and Zatanna has requested the elder Fentons provide me with protection,” he said like it was anything but a weak excuse.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, and then figured fuck it. Actually telling them before he left was technically still an improvement, and Danny and Jason were both well aware that there was gonna be some nosy bullshit.

He’d warned Danny this was gonna happen, and Danny had said it was fine. That he didn’t care about anything Batman might find… and knowing just how badly the Justice League had fucked up was going to eat the asshole alive. Which he could have avoided just by listening.

About to just walk away, Jason hesitated. There was actually one thing… technically not a necessary for a halfa, but fuck it. Might as well get B used to some ghostly etiquette early.

“Have you asked Danny?”

Bruce stilled, giving Jason a complicated look that mostly felt like judgement. Like Jason should know better than to ask.

“I was under the impression that removing the Anti-Ecto Acts is a priority?” He said stiffly, all awkward tension again.

Jason really did roll his eyes this time.

“Sure, but you’re going to his haunt. You text Superman before investigating in Metropolis.” Which technically hadn’t even been true when Jason was actually Robin, but B did text Clark before getting caught investigating in Metropolis. By anything but Kryptonian hearing.

The protocol basically only applied whenever another hero wanted to operate within Gotham because only Batman cared, but it was on the League’s books.

Bruce had picked up the wording though, because of course he had.

“His haunt?” He asked carefully, that tiny tick between his brows that meant he was processing starting up.

Jason rolled his eyes harder. For emphasis. Had JL Dark actually missed this part of the briefing? He was so not writing up Ghost Etiquette 101 for the league. No way.

But. It. Might be kinda cool. To have for himself. Especially since it was gonna be increasingly relevant.

“He’s a ghost hero, B. He died there, he protects the city. He’s like, the only one who’ll actually get your territorial crap, because in his case it’s part of his makeup.”

Actually, might be part of B’s too. Danny hadn’t said how liminal Bruce in particular was, but it really wouldn’t surprise Jason if claiming a haunt was part of it. Or if Lady Gotham had already picked out a spot for him.

That thought stung, so he dismissed it immediately and turned towards the kitchen. Hell with the brownies he’d been planning, he was gonna need something much more complicated to keep his mind off the latest wave of bullshit.

Alfred liked soufflés. Jason could activate the house defences to keep the little gremlins out until they were done.

“Just fucking text him, B. Entering a ghost’s haunt without permission is declaring intent to throw down, and that’s a fight none of us need.” No matter how much he might like to watch B go up against the ridiculous power-set Danny was packing.

Sure, the Bat went toe to toe with the gods, but that was with plans, tech, and often, backup. Apparently he still didn’t know shit about ghosts, so it’d be fun to watch him try and adapt on the fly… especially when even Danny wasn’t sure how many actual powers were on the table.

Bruce hesitated for a long moment, looking at Jason’s retreating back.

That had gone… frankly he did not trust his own read on Jason enough to tell. Neither of them had yelled. He’d said what he was prepared to; he was still working on the appropriate format for the rest.

Jason… hadn’t reacted. Not with anger, which was a blessed relief, but not with anything else either. Except disbelief. Exasperation. Shock.

Not really any aggression, though. That had to be a decided improvement. And while part of Bruce suspected he’d been told to inform Danny so the boy could hide anything unsavoury….

He’d known that was likely to happen when he told Jason his plans. Jason would tell Danny; his allegiances there were firmly (and worryingly quickly) established.

Telling Danny himself… there was a chance that Jason had been serious about it being a matter of protocol. A formal request, for contact with an inter-dimensional entity.

Despite that entity being present and active in Bruce’s own city without so much as a nod to the Bat. But then, Batman was not a ghost, despite what the goons liked to suppose.

Firmly marshalling his own suspicions, Bruce pulled out his phone to message the youngest Fenton.

Stopped.

Bruce Wayne didn’t have the boy’s number. But Danny knew at least Nightwing’s identity; it was possible he knew them all.

He was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not Batman. But Brucie Wayne had no way to get the correct phone number. Unexpected contact from Batman was… well, expected, to an extent.

And his investigations would be handled and presented as Batman. Surely no one would challenge Brucie Wayne to a fight?

Mind made up, Bruce took his vigilante phone out and did a quick scan through his childrens’ updated contact lists. Most of them seemed to have been enjoying the company of the Amity Parkers; it wouldn’t be hard to get Danny’s contact information.

So. New year, new problems. Danny used to say it as a joke, but this year it was looking pretty darn literal.

Last year, for example, he hadn’t had to worry about his parents finding out about his supposed “love life” from a magazine (that Jazz must have sent them after they’d gone back to Amity Park, the traitor), and calling to hound him for details.

He’d managed to talk them out of driving the GAV straight to Gotham to threaten Jason into “treating him right”… which Jason thought was funny solely because he still didn’t actually know how large Jack Fenton was, nor how intense Maddie could be.

He still thought of them as civilians, and maybe a little less than competent, thanks to the database and their zero capture record.

Maybe Danny was cultivating that ignorance specifically so he could watch the moment of truth in person. Sue him, it was funny.

Unfortunately, since the magazine had also included that the gala they’d been “hooking up” at had been to celebrate Jason’s return from the dead, his mom had reached the halfa conclusion on her own. Danny had wanted to let Jason decide when to tell her, but that very first phone call the first words out of her mouth had been “Daniel James Fenton, have you met another halfa without telling us?”

And Danny had been so taken aback by them actually noticing anything (it was to do with ghosts, of course they’d noticed, he’d kicked himself for days after) that she’d taken his speechlessness as confirmation.

So.

They had that out of the way before they even said hi.

Despite Danny’s firm assurances that he and Jason weren’t actually dating, the papers were making the whole thing up (the photos hadn’t helped, but his dad seemed to buy that he’d been. Trying to help Jason fix his shirt. After the rogue attack, y’know), his parents had insisted on another call with Jason.

And Jazz. Because he had to introduce his sister to his new boyfriend too.

Jason had… taken it well? Hadn’t gotten much of a word in edgewise, around Jack Fenton’s boisterous laughter and insistence that he come around some time soon. He’d agreed with Danny that they definitely were not dating, which.

They weren’t.

They just weren’t.

They were just. Friends. Who hung out after classes in the evening. And texted all day. And told each other their deepest darkest soul secrets in like, a week after they’d met.

Danny’s mom had seemed a little more convinced by the end of the call, but still insisted Jason should come down to Amity Park anyway, to get to know the family.

Danny was still in denial about it being even a little bit helpful, but Jason had decided to drop the Fright Knight bomb right away. It was the actual real reason they were so close now, so it made sense as an explanation that wasn’t them being partners or whatever.

(Danny still hated it. Resented he couldn’t be trusted to just… have a friend. It always had to be something stupid and dramatic.

And he was totally offended by how immediately relieved his mom had been that he’d have someone “looking after him”. Like he wasn’t a whole ass adult for years already, and the king of a realm for longer than that.)

And now he was gonna have to call them back, and probably get a message to Fright Knight, because Danny’s newest problem was that Batman now had his phone number.

And was asking his permission to go to Amity Park to deal with the Anti-Ecto Acts.

(“Brucie Wayne” was officially the one going for the Acts, the message only said that Batman would be escorting the billionaire and gathering evidence separately, but Danny wasn’t fucking buying it.

And since Batman had his phone number and had used it, Tucker could technically get into Batman’s phone and prove it. Like Constantine showing up at Wayne Manor left a shadow of a doubt.

But noooo, Danny knew all about dramatics and billionaires and their sketchy underground labs. He could play along.)

Which, technically, might wind up solving one of his biggest problems.

It was also gonna completely ruin all the work he and Jason had done persuading the Fentons they weren’t dating; he could already hear his dad booming delightedly about meeting future in-laws. Because why else would Jason’s dad go to visit?

Not like there were actual laws on the books declaring Danny as a mandatory extermination target. Or like the Justice League might finally have gotten their thumbs out of their asses and want to check in.

Clearly Danny’s love life was the only thing that mattered.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about that crap from Frighty; all the ghosts were gonna know all about Danny and Jason’s soul resonance (be still his beating fucking heart that was still ridiculous). He would have to let him know a superhero was gonna be in town though.

Actual ghosts weren’t likely to mistake Batman for one of their own and these days most of Danny’s rogue gallery was cool about not picking fights with humans without Fenton tech, but Danny figured better safe than sorry.

And.

Maybe.

Really wanted to see Batman and Fright Knight hang out. They were gonna totally love or totally hate each other, and either way he was a little sorry he was gonna miss it.

Unless he gave in and took time off class, kidnapped Jason from whatever work he did, and made the trip home… because he’d been direly warned that if he did show up without Jason, Jack Fenton would drive him back to Gotham personally. So, no. Nope. Not happening.

The long and the short of it was that instead of being blissfully free of his parents nagging him to visit until the summer, he was now fielding calls and texts demanding he come back home for March Break, at the latest. And bring Jason.

Mom wanted to “assess him”, which was fucking terrifying and the more Jason didn’t take it seriously the more Danny was tempted to actually make the trip. It would at least come with a defined end date. And force Jazz to take a break if she wanted to come too.

She at least had been less insistent on calling him every single day to bug him about it; probably because she was busy frying herself to death at university. She’d apologized for missing the group chat too, and the first family phone call, but it wasn’t a huge surprise.

Jazz had had the helicopter parent firmly knocked out of her by double majors, which Danny used to think was a good thing. Now he considered it might actually be a sign she was… not cracking under the pressure? But not taking care of herself.

Hopefully it wouldn’t return full force once she got some actual sleep and decent food in her.

Honestly, Danny wasn’t unaware that this was the most normal his problems had ever been. Just a few years ago he’d have done anything but wish to Desiree that his biggest problem would be “my parents think I’m dating one of my friends”.

Right now it was looking pretty good too, actually. Because at this precise second, Danny’s biggest problem was that he was running out of excuses not to talk to Nocturn.

***

Tim was beginning to think he had a bit of a crush on Tucker Foley. It was a surprise to him as much as anyone else; normally the kind of fawning adoration that tech geeks usually followed him with was an instant turn off. There was just… no point getting close to people who saw him as an idea, not a person.

And, frankly? The mere existence of Timblr probably would have been a red flag for anyone else. Sure, Tucker had closed it down, but it still existed - and Tucker Foley could have taken care of that easily.

The thing was… even under the hero worship he’d caught in Tucker’s eyes when they were first introduced… well, Tucker wasn’t exactly respectful to his heroes. That did tend to follow along with a friend in a teen hero career; everyone else was instantly less cool by association.

Tucker just plain wasn’t a good fanboy. He hung on Tim’s every word, right up until they started talking tech - the subject he most admired Tim for. Didn’t admire him enough not to cut him off half way through an explanation, call an idea “archaic”, or ask if Tim was serious.

(And okay, once or twice he hadn’t been; just testing his technical chops.)

The thing was, Tucker wasn’t only a genius with regular technology, he was a prodigy in an entirely new field of software and occult collusion, and he knew it. He was delighted to upgrade Tim’s systems (although Danny would still need to do the full ecto-infusions; Tucker could interface, but didn’t produce his own ectoplasm), and more than happy to point out everywhere they needed improving.

Tim genuinely respected his opinion, which wasn’t a distinction he gave to many people who’d never worn a cape; he’d already cc’d the other, Lucius Fox, into his and Tucker’s email chains. (Lucius was very enthusiastic about the oncoming apprenticeship - for him.)

And Tucker was funny, allergic to personal privacy, and… well, Tim was pretty sure he’d felt those first twinges when, as promised, he tagged Tucker in to help interrogate the Riddler.

Digitally, obviously. With Tucker’s classes starting back up and the New Years hangovers finally clearing the board, the next time they saw each other in person might be upsettingly far out. But Tucker had cheerfully hacked his way into Gotham PD’s systems and made himself comfortable while Red Robin and Batwoman waited for Riddler to be brought in.

Tim had so few pure pleasures in his life, but watching Kate try to keep a straight face when the interrogation room’s speakers began blasting what was essentially a stripper theme perfect for Eddie Nygma the second the door closed?

Riddler had been utterly baffled as well, talking over the beginning until they reached the chorus, where the singer practically spelled out his name. His stunned silence had given way to a burst of offended protest that was entirely undercut by the way his fingers kept time.

As the teen hero in the room, Red Robin was allowed to snicker at him, but Batwoman had to pretend to be an adult about it.

And when the first song ended, silence had fallen for what must have been a perfectly calculated fifteen seconds, and then the Jeopardy theme began playing.

Of course, soundtracking hadn’t been Tucker’s only contribution to the interrogation, just Tim’s favourite. Red Robin had the tablet from the gala back from evidence, from which Tucker had cheerfully admitted in Matrix style scrolling green text that he’d been the one back-hacking Nygma’s files… and locking him out of them.

And replacing every single link Nygma had clicked from the night of the gala to the day Batwoman hauled him in to a random page from Riddles.com, which Riddler had declared a new vendetta against every time anyone would listen. It was beautiful.

Robins were professionally annoying, it was part natural talent on all of their parts (except Damian) and part intensive training on how to disrupt thought patterns and push people into mistakes. Tucker could have led the class, and Tim had been overtaken by a powerful urge to kiss the smug grin he could feel through Tucker’s text straight off his face.

Of course, Tim had a boyfriend. And had been overtaken more than once by similar urges for almost every one of his friends, when they did something brilliant.

Steph called it oral fixation, Tim preferred positive reinforcement. Conner found the whole thing extremely funny, especially since Tucker still stumbled over his words if Conner was so much as looking at him.

Which made all of his siblings trying to tease him about Tucker’s “crush” on Tim look ridiculous, by the way. Tucker Foley was not a subtle man; he couldn’t even string a sentence together around someone he actually liked.

He could string plenty of sentences together around Tim, the two of them could finish each others’ half the time.

(He wasn’t upset about Tucker’s obvious interest in Conner either; Tim knew damn well his boyfriend was an incredible catch and he was lucky to have him. Tucker’s crush was just… peer review.)

Already he was counting down the days until March Break, when Tucker was going to visit in person again. Honestly, he might push to get a zeta put in nearer to MIT in the meantime.

It wasn’t like the institute was never targeted by supervillains, it would just be practical.

But Tim himself couldn’t suggest that now, because then all of his siblings would jump on the Tucker thing and he’d never hear the end of it. It was a dilemma… because even if Conner or Danny could just go and pick him up again, zeta was just faster.

It had nothing to do with missing time that Conner and Tucker were bonding, or being a puppy waiting for his master to come home, whatever Steph said.

(And honestly, Tucker Foley? Not exactly commanding “master” material. Until he was talking about his area of expertise. Then he was certain and confident and got this really attractive gleam in his eye…)

The quickest solution would be getting all of Team Phantom officially involved in the Justice League, of course. Then he wouldn’t even need to suggest it; close zeta access was vital for all of the heroes.

But Team Phantom couldn’t join the League until Phantom’s existence was no longer illegal. So they had to dismantle the Anti Ecto Acts. Bruce was investigating the GIW, and planning what he probably thought was a secret trip to Amity Park, but none of it was happening fast enough for Tim… because it probably wouldn’t be done by March Break. In two months.

He’d broken more than just the American government in two months; all it took was the right leverage. And a complete lack of self restraint.

So, y’know, Tim had a new side project in and around his other Gotham cases. All he needed was a house and then senate majority, and they could get those laws repealed the second the government came back from break.

Lois Lane was already working on the story, Clark would probably join Bruce in Amity Park (whether he knew Bruce was there or not) for interviews. There was only so much public pressure could do though, and that never worked fast enough either.

Not compared to Tim’s preferred methods. He liked the personal touch.

****

Fun fact, slower core formation? Had not meant slower ghost powers. Not in Jason’s case, anyway; not even a week after his core came in, a coffee cup had slipped straight through his hand and shattered on the floor.

He’d stopped handling Alfred’s good china that day, mindful of Danny’s many horror stories about the school lab’s glassware. Alfred hadn’t actually questioned it, although he’d gotten a couple of raised eyebrows when he slid a junk mug toward the kettle.

It was just a good thing he’d already cut down patrolling; he’d been planning to take a step back anyway for a while. Just until he got the balance right between being Red Hood and the newly resurrected Jason Todd.

He’d had to stop entirely, at least until he got the intangibility under control. Sure, becoming temporarily impervious to weapons would be convenient when he got to choose when it switched off or on. Phasing various limbs half way through solid surfaces and getting stuck though?

No.

Not a chance in Hell. That was not an acceptable risk.

Invisibility had started not long after, which had definitely complicated his trips to the manor; all the bats were good, but vanishing completely out of the blue? That would raise comment.

The good news was that the glacierfrost seemed to be helping there too; either because of the ecto in the ice, or just keeping his emotions regulated, which kept the powers from acting up. Jason wasn’t taking unnecessary risks, but he’d noticed that for at least a couple hours after a hit, he was in more control.

Intentionally turning the powers on was still a struggle, but apparently that’d just get better with time. And probably fighting - that was the common denominator under all his ghost problems.

Ghost Fight Club was officially starting the second he’d got the transformation down, but how exactly they were going to try and trigger that in a controlled environment was still… less clear than Jason would like.

They’d have to work it out soon though; the only other ability that was likely to kick in before he could transform was flight, according to Danny. Time was a-tickin’.

And… alright. It wasn’t like Jason was sat at home every night; that was what he and Danny were doing after school now that they’d cut back to at least a couple days a week. A little practice on budding ghost powers, with backup.

“Surveying his haunt” was what Danny called it, but it basically meant Danny going ghost and Jason putting on a domino he claimed he borrowed from Dick, and the two of them bouncing around the Alley. And occasionally Danny pushing him off roofs to see if flight had kicked in yet.

(It hadn’t, but he still had his grapples, and refused to let Danny rescue him from his own bullshit.)

Sensing the city’s natural ecto had gotten much easier with his core fully developed, and Danny was teaching him how to mark it with his own. Pitty’s ongoing corruption was fucking it up though; it was still producing corrupted ectoplasm, and actually more of it now that they were both whole.

(Jason had started sleeping with Frostbite’s ghost succulent next to his pillow. That was how he’d noticed the new blue glow, which he still meant to ask about. It was still firm and strong, and it… didn’t feel sick?)

Corrupted ecto reeked so strongly of that corruption that it was completely useless for anything else, apparently. So until they finally finished purging Pitty, what all their little adventures actually amounted to was tagging.

Danny made them special ecto-spray-paint, and they spent the nights finding weirder and weirder corners to spray a little mark onto. Jason would have liked to use something to do with Red Hood, for the symmetry, but. Well. He hadn’t worked out how to have that conversation yet.

He’d been making do with little ghost doodles. It had been years since he’d done any real graffiti art, but it was like riding a bike, and the ecto sprayed really well. A cartoon ghost wasn’t all that hard anyway; an elongated little blob, occasionally with little fangs or unattached clawed hands.

He’d been going for something like an Among Us bean, but Danny had declared that he was drawing Pitty, and well… it stuck. Doodling little Pit ghosts was the order of the day, ranging from cute little Pittys (modelling good behaviour, Danny called it) or vicious little bastards, depending on how both Jason and Pitty had been that day.

Because that was definitely one piece of good news, in with all the bullshit new ghost powers was causing. Before he’d felt surges of rage, the moments where the Pit was reaching out and trying to affect him. Universally bad, aggressive, and violent, pre-Danny.

He could kinda feel it all the time now, like a heated scarf draped over his body, or the constant breathing of a dog just behind his ear. It was quiet mostly, and he was beginning to suspect it had cost more energy than he’d ever expected for it to reach out to him at all.

For all that he’d worried about it being too much like raising a kid, it… well, the nice way to say it was probably that it wasn’t that bright. It could talk to him in ghostspeak, kind of; most of what he actually heard felt like emotional reactions, closer to speaking through auras than words despite how much it’d felt like it was crawling up his throat.

The Pit could handle basic concepts, recognised Danny’s name, but other than that? It mostly seemed to follow Jason’s emotional lead… and then dial it up to eleven. Which, yeah, was exactly what he’d been scared of when he thought it might be like, a whole ass person. Toddlers were terrifying little sponges.

Jason’s experience of kids wasn’t exactly what he’d call normal, sure, but Pitty was reminding him less of a kid and more and more of some kind of small and bitey animal.

Which, y’know, was a relief. Sort of. It wasn’t like he could fuck up an animal in the same way as he could a kid. Nowhere near the same level of responsibility.

Just. When he thought about the pit rage, the idea of it being attached to something which literally had fangs and claws was not exactly reassuring. Even at the size of a chihuahua.

A little impromptu art therapy while they marked his haunt wasn’t exactly helping with that part, but it wasn’t hurting. And he was trying to explain that feeling bad was not actually dangerous or harmful… via spray paint.

He was only about 70% sure that Pitty could see.

But it got him out and about, kept him in shape at least for swinging from roof tops, and gave him an excuse to hang out with Danny. It did involve actively avoiding anything he’d normally investigate (at least until he had a reasonable explanation… or brought up the Red Hood thing)… but it felt good. It was soothing.

Even knowing full well he’d made plans, prepared extensively, still had his guys making sure the Alley was safe and all was well, he still found himself itching to patrol on the nights he stayed in.

He could only assume that was part of the whole Haunt thing; he had good people working under him, and a couple of bright lieutenants that while he’d never let them wear the hood, he was comfortable giving them some solo enforcement missions to keep the fear of Red Hood in everyone’s hearts. All relevant parties, anyway.

Luckily he still had the library project as a convenient excuse for the bats. It kept them off his ass, and Jason could admit that it probably wouldn’t have taken much to persuade him to take a night run.

And get his ass stuck half way through some fucking wall somewhere, or lose a foot to a rooftop, and need to break himself free or call Danny in the fucking suit. Nope.

(He’d been tempted to let his family think he was saving his nights for Danny, which wasn’t even completely untrue; Danny wasn’t over every night anymore, not with his school schedule, but if he wasn’t over they texted.

Jason had begun saving a meme folder just for things to show Danny, which had quickly absorbed his full folder for death jokes and just kept going. Danny was going to be a very supportive “father” for their fake pit-kid, and had clearly been stockpiling dad jokes to send back.)

Honestly though, Jason was just relieved he’d already planned to slow the vigilante side for a while in the wake of his official revival; there was a lot that had to be done to come back from the dead, and a lot more he could do with official Wayne backing for areas of Crime Alley that Hood couldn’t touch.

He’d even let some of the bats in on those plans before Danny showed up; it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t patrolling. They were mostly leaving him alone about it, although Dick had offered to pop his Red Hood gear on and run a couple of patrols if things got too rowdy.

Jason had told him to fuck off, then got his street kids spreading the rumour that Hood was gearing up for something big. Let people think that the momentary quiet was just the first rumbles for an oncoming storm.

Hell, let them think Hood was in cahoots with Jason Todd-Wayne; that or preparing to run him out of the Alley. Let both of his lives work together for a while. The rumours shut half the fucking low-level dealers up; no one was pushing anything within three blocks of his territory, in case Hood was planning an expansion.

That’d boil over after a while and bite him in the ass if he didn’t go and kick something down, but for now it worked. He had so much to do for the library, for the new shelters from the Wayne foundation, for the soup kitchens. He actually was pretty busy, even on his nights in.

Fuck, he’d even taken time to hang out with the actual Alley kids, as Jason and Hood. The mouthy little shits kept him grounded, and maybe he’d tried it as a trial run for Pitty, but since that wasn’t gonna be the same problem he’d kept it up as a test of his own patience.

Which had. Very abruptly. Become the cause of one of his biggest concerns. Because the biggest change since his core came in had actually taken him a couple more days to notice.

Because now, Jason could see the fingerprints of the new entity.

That hadn’t been fun to work out; he’d been intentionally taking it slow until his core formed. Part of him had been sorta hoping to be able to just avoid anything that might set them both off until the Pit was ready to pop out on its own. Nothing related to the new case he couldn’t start, nothing related to the Joker or pits or any of that shit.

So when some of the kids had been showing up with some weird shadowy smudge on their clothes, he’d assumed it was the usual Gotham grime. They claimed not to see it, he threw them at the laundry room and cussed them out, it always came off.

Now the Curse, the Curse was staying out of Crime Alley entirely. He’d seen it during the day once or twice, a shadow attached where it shouldn’t be, a flicker over Damian or Tim’s shoulder. He always knew when the Curse was around now, a frosty fog filled his lungs whenever it was close.

(Danny had called it his “ghost sense”, which was lame but Jason didn’t have a better idea.)

And those smudges didn’t have the same kind of ozone-aftertaste that the Curse left in his mouth.

And then one of his girls, maybe seven years old, had come in with that same kind of smeared shadow sticking through soft black hair. He’d had some sharp fucking words with the older kids about that, he didn’t expect them to stay pristine at all times, but for fucks sake it was clumping.

Basic hygiene fucking mattered on the street, none of them could afford a proper de-matting or even a decent razor to shave their heads, so Jason had instilled the importance of bare-minimum finger combing in every one of them years ago. You could live with a fucking rug dragging at your skull, but it made absolutely everything harder.

He’d sat the girl on a stool and washed her hair in a bucket himself, while repeating the same fucking lecture to the other girls. Noticed half way through that while the sticky shit was indeed washing out of her hair, it wasn’t being broken down by the soap.

It was clinging to him instead, seeping into the creases of his fingers and under his nails. He’d tried not to visibly react, giving her a last rinse and wrapping her hair in a towel-hat that she didn’t stop touching for the next forty minutes, fucking it up a dozen times.

The smudgy crap had washed off his hands eventually, but when he saw Danny the next day he’d visibly backed up a few steps, then given Jason about six shots of ecto because his was apparently rancid again. No prizes for spotting the connection, and from there it was obvious.

And then he’d seen Harley the next day, that same smudgy crap a handprint around her fucking throat, and he’d seen red. Hot, angry, blood red, and it not being green had startled the life out of him.

(Harley noticed. Duh. It was her thing. And while Jason couldn’t just tell her some malevolent fucking entity made from her shitty ex was crawling through the city, he’d been as honest as he could be.

Harley definitely couldn’t see the smudges. Danny hadn’t had any answers or way to make it stop fucking touching people.)

Hypothetically, this was all gonna be good in the end. It’d make things easier, being able to see and track this shitstain’s work.

It did not feature in his “don’t get pissed off or think about work” plan.

It was just faintly possible that obsession, self flagellation, and a desire to be personally responsible for fucking everything might be more than just Bruce’s problem. Could maybe be a family affair.

Jason made more pies. Occasionally narrating what he was doing aloud, half for Pitty’s benefit and half for Danny’s when the little shit was crashing on his couch.

It was fine. He was coping. Another couple weeks, Danny reckoned, and Pitty would be out of his body and he could get back to his fucking life.

With a pet Pit ghost in tow, apparently, but if the worst came to the worst he could fucking soup the thing once it was outside him.

(He was also going to teach Danny to make soup. Proper soup. On principle.)

Preparing for his trip to Amity Park had taken longer than Bruce had expected. Not least because Alfred had finally run out of patience, and sentenced him to bedrest for the next 12 hours after he returned from the Justice League meeting lest he unlock the tranquilizer guns and give his children free reign.

In the old days, when he’d just become Batman, Bruce had assumed Alfred would never be able to catch him anyway. He’d been cocky and confident in his skills, and often ignored Alfred’s demands.

And yet the man always seemed to know, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Bruce every time he’d slipped back into the room just before Alfred made his rounds.

And then Steph came into his life, and Bruce learned all too fast that Alfred had merely been waiting for appropriate safeguards. That was three kids along of course, but by now Bruce knew exactly why it had been Steph Alfred had waited for.

His relationship with Dick was too tumultuous. While Dick never feared Bruce and was perfectly happy to join Alfred in nagging and bossing him around, by the time Dick moved out Bruce had half expected to only see his son at Justice League meetings, if at all.

They were different men, and Dick had always had an anger in him that Bruce couldn’t fathom. He’d mastered it, his control very rarely slipping, but… Bruce had trained Dick himself, and he was one of a very short list of people that Bruce had no concrete backup plan for.

Nothing but hope to make him cocky with the first attack, and pray the second caught him off guard.

His relationship with Dick hadn’t improved until Tim came into his life… and helped him get his head out of his ass.

Jason? Jason had been an angel. A scruffy, beaten down angel with badly bruised wings when Bruce first picked him up, but he’d flourished in Wayne Manor. He’d taken to Robin with joy and enthusiasm, but had more devotion to his studies than any of Bruce’s kids before or since.

He’d even stay in to study for tests, and if things had been different… perhaps he’d have been the one to break Bruce’s obsession with his night life.

But Bruce had begun taking that good heart for granted, pushed when he should have listened, and sent Jason to his death.

Tim had a hard enough time keeping Bruce from killing himself, along with anyone who stood in the way of his mission. He was a solemn, serious little boy from the start, and though Dick took a more active role this time around and declared himself a big brother (possibly to spite Bruce)… well.

It had to be Steph.

Steph, who would vehemently deny being one of his from whoa to go, was just like all of his children; a feral little gremlin. But Steph had that one more element too, the one which young Dick had had in spades but pulled back from with Bruce years before.

Steph liked to have fun.

Tim treated Bruce as a mission just as much as Gotham was Bruce’s, and Dick had never forgiven him for Jason. Or the fights that went before. Neither could pick up a Nerf gun and hunt him through the city in pure play in those days.

Until Steph gave them the guns, of course. Now any and every one of his children would happily take a tranq gun from Alfred and merrily stalk him through the manor and city at large, and even to the Watchtower if he tempted fate (and Tim).

Bruce was powerless against them, although pride warred with frustration every single time one of them managed to drug him to sleep. He’d trained them well. Well enough that they’d put what was right over what he wanted, that none of them were even a little afraid of him.

He’d planted the seeds of his own destruction.

So when he’d seen Duke and Dick hanging “casually” around the halls while Alfred escorted him to bed, he’d resigned himself to twelve hours of rest.

He’d slept for sixteen. And woke feeling much better, to his own chagrin. His head felt clearer, the migraine almost gone, and the sudden swoops of nausea had finally begun to pass.

He still had odd moments, especially when he’d been on the computer planning the trip to Amity Park for too long, but he’d reluctantly agreed with Alfred. He needed to fully recover from his concussion; that meant rest. And taking days and weeks instead of hours.

Amity Park would still be there, after all. He couldn’t get back the years they’d been late. He’d had to concede another two weeks.

Zatanna had also demanded an explanation for why he was suddenly interested in the town - luckily the Anti-Ecto Acts provided a sufficient cover. They were even most of the reason he was going.

She could also see the gravity of the situation, and offered to put him in touch with some local specialists who claimed to have tech that would keep him from being possessed. Specialists named “Fenton”. Because of course they were.

She’d offered him a ward as well, but mostly in jest. She knew how Bruce felt about magic, and had told him science was on the table almost immediately.

Bruce knew full well it wasn’t a coincidence. Formerly regarded as quacks, the Fentons had been featured prominently in all of their Amity Park news sources. Usually as menaces and a hazard to society, which aligned with what the Mansons had told him.

Still, their actions had nothing to do with the character of their son. Danny Phantom had been Amity Park’s protector for six years, although he’d not had many serious ghosts to fight for the last three.

As Foley had claimed, the ghosts seemed to have settled into a status of local nuisance that was oddly aligned with the Fentons senior; loud, intrusive, and often an inconvenience to your day, but not the threats to life, limb, or infrastructure that had characterised the first years after the portal opened.

Amity Park’s general consensus seemed to be that Danny Phantom had tamed the ghosts, won over the Fentons, and quite efficiently saved the day. He hadn’t been sighted there much in the past year, but that was because he’d been in Gotham.

In school. Finally being able to study and look towards his future.

His main heroic endeavours in the last three years of his career had involved the same GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward that Foley had told Tim about. They unfortunately had not followed the general trend of de-escalation… although they had been rather subdued in the last year.

It felt different to Bruce, though. Incidents were less frequent, but those occurrences where they did find a ghost had become markedly more violent. The decreased frequency seemed to have lulled the townsfolk into believing they were also less of a threat, but the problem with pushing your enemies into a corner was how much more dangerous a cornered animal became.

There was something worrying happening with the GIW, that would have borne looking into even if he wasn’t also looking to understand Danny better. Preparing everything he’d need for the official investigation was most of what had slowed him down.

Of course, he was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not as Batman. Vlad Masters’ friendship was going to help him there; the man had been delighted to invite him down for the weekend when Bruce had reached out.

A little faked enthusiasm for football and interest in Vlad’s favourite team and he was a seemingly completely open book. He was more than happy to give Brucie the grand tour of his little town, and even promised a personal escort from the airport.

Bruce was beginning to suspect that getting away from the man might be more of a challenge, although he was another potentially useful source of information on the Amity Park situation.

Not that Masters was a particularly high priority source. But Bruce could admit he may have been hasty to dismiss his views on Danny as being biased, and as mayor he should know something about the GIW operations in his city… and given how many contracts with the agency could be traced back to his companies in the early days of the agency’s formations, he would be a much more serious subject for investigation than a source.

The good news was, everything was now in place. He had Danny’s permission and would be flying down to Amity Park in a matter of hours, and had already bought out the entire top floor of a local hotel, so he should have plenty of privacy to operate from.

With any luck, being able to set things in motion to repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts could also be a first step towards patching things up with Jason… and with Danny. No matter what conclusions Bruce came to in Amity Park, the Justice League owed Danny Phantom a serious apology, and the Infinite Realms some swift action.

Their negligence could have sparked an inter-dimensional war, and nearly had cost a young man his future. Bruce was self aware enough to admit that the guilt of that knowledge was a major factor in why he hadn’t spoken to Danny face to face again.

Yet.

At least Danny had given him permission to visit and explore his haunt. That had to count for something.

He was going to apologize. Probably after giving Jason the proper apology his son so richly deserved. Perhaps Jason would even be willing to help him work out how to properly apologize to Danny too; Bruce wasn’t good at apologies at the very best of times, but Harley had made it explicitly clear that he was going to be getting in a lot of practice.

Now, ya can call Harley Quinn a lot of things (and people definitely have), but one thing she ain’t despite the goofball act? Stupid.

Somethin’ was up in Gotham, somethin’ one heck of a lot weirder than all the weird shit that had marked her time in the city.

Oh, she’d gone an’ had another word with Brucie after Waylon told her how Jason’d had to leave through the roof after his talk with Constantine.

(She’d hunt Johnny-boy down later too, probably just after he decided she wasn’t gonna come for ‘im and stopped hiding, but odds on? Brucie’s fault, and Connie was just his unfortunate messenger.)

The thing was, he’d decided to sicc Johnny on poor Jason before they’d had their little talk, so by the time she caught him again he was already all downcast and shamefaced. Already admitting he done fucked up.

And it just wasn’t satisfyin’ to kick him while he was down, an’ while he was already tryin’. He’d even decided on his own to leave both boys alone for now, to let things cool down before tryin’ again.

Now, Mama Quinzel didn’t raise no dummy, she could see a million ways ol’ Brucie’s plan to go and try an’ fix Amity Park for Danny was gonna go wrong. But she wasn’t an expert at this ghost business, so she didn’t pretend to be.

She did exactly what she’d told Brucie to do; consulted an actual expert.

She asked Sammy and Jazzy, Danny’s big sis who was just a real darlin’, in their group chat (which had been popping off since Sammy was a lil sweetheart and set it up for ‘em; Jazzy-boo was of doin’ all kinds of neurological shit but she’d read some psych textbooks in her day, and Harley loved watching a self taught student grow). An’ then she hunted down Jason and Danny, to ask ‘em directly.

Which had been when she’d got her first clue that somethin’ was up; when Jason looked at her like she was still wearin’ a certain other clown’s paint, all stiff and locked up and full of anger.

See, that’d happened before. When they first met, him fresh outta the grave, her fresh outta Hell. When he’d asked if she and Joker were really through, an’ she’d told him hell yeah.

When he’d asked if she’d get in his way of killing the asshole.

That anger, all tight an’ tense an’ burstin’ had been wrapped around his throat then, chokin’ him on it. It was cooler now, more human, more like somethin’ the sweet lil sunshine child who could melt her heart with his tears could feel.

It still wasn’t, ya’know, in the vague vicinity of healthy, but she’d seen Jason Todd about to lose his shit before. An’ his hands shook when he touched her, when he asked what the hell she’d done to her neck.

Harley’d taken a good long look in several bathroom mirrors since. There was nothin’ she could see there, but Harley Quinn had been a short term guest in more than one Hell. There was plenty of shit she was all too happy not ta see.

Then there was ol’ Harvey. She’d run him down faster’n the bats, because she wasn’t also chasin’ Riddler, Great White Shark, at least three new plots from ol’ Pengy, or a suspiciously quiet and freshly escaped Scarecrow.

Two-Face had been all quiet an’ polite since his heist on the young Mr Todd’s party went tits up, so he’d flown under their radar.

Not hers.

Harley always made time for her old friends.

And Harvey had been weird too. Twitchy, on edge, jumpin’ at shadows. That happened if he thought the ol’ Bat was after ‘im, but he’d had no reason to think that. An’ for all he’d flipped his little coin and played up the bit, Harley knew when her friends were off.

Something had put Harvey on edge. Stuffed a bee up his ass and made him all snappy.

He’d even tried to pull a gun! On her! His sweet, darlin’, perfectly loveable and innocent Harleen!

So, ya’know, when she’d touched ground again an’ he’d run outta bullets, she’d knocked it outta his hands before he could reload and reminded him there were more than just Bats to fear. There was also her bat.

An’ by the time they were both all tired out and slumped against each other to order smoothies, he’d admitted he didn’t know why he’d decided to go fer young Jason. To attack their buddy Brucie’s boy.

Now, Harley wasn’t sure Harvey knew silly ol’ Brucie was the Big Bad Bat. She suspected he did, somewhere, in the part of him he hid from all the unpleasantness.

If he knew, he was repressin’ it real deep.

But he’d seen word of the gala, an’ something inside him went dark, and he’d flipped a coin. Got all sorts of plastic explosive of all things ready to really give Gotham a show they wouldn’t forget.

An’ then when it was time to roll out, nunna his cars’d start. An’ he’d flipped the coin again. And stayed home.

She snagged the detonators on his explosives on the way out, on principle. There were some rules after all, and while the Bats could certainly handle anythin’ ol’ Harvey could build, he shouldn’a shot at her.

Harley Quinn was officially out of the rogue game, but that had nothin’ ta do with shit disturbing. She was beginning to wonder though.

Somethin’ was weird in Gotham, a kinda energy in the streets that wasn’t the same black stubbornness she’d known and loved. Somethin’ that felt a little nastier. A little closer to biting.

Now, Harley Quinn was a lotta things. She also wasn’t a lotta the things everyone else thought she was.

She was no quitter. She was no fool. She was no coward to turn tail from some nasty vibes. She might still be a teensy weensy bit mentally disturbed, as you say, but she had her shit together.

An’ she knew when somethin’ else was tryin’ ta play with her head.

Much as she loved Gotham like a second home, she was beginnin’ ta wonder if she shouldn’t head back to Pammy an’ let their mystery of who was givin’ Coney Island a hard time sit with the Bats.

——————

The song Tucker’s playing for Tim and Nygma is here:

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IMPORTANT NOTE! Since about half the tag list no longer links to a blog, I will probably be retiring it for chapter 20, so either comment and let me know you still wanna be on it, or proceed on over to AO3 for alerts!

Part two:

#dfdali #danny fenton dead and loving it #dead on main ship #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #chapter 19 part 1 #the finished core

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jasontoddsmommyissues · 2 years ago

Text

Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Talk About

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Y/N Henderson’s relationship with Eddie puts her at odds with Jason Carver and co.

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, bullying/harassment, slut shaming, allusions to sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), Jason being a prick, swearing, Reader is Dustin’s sister but no physical descriptions are used and you can read it as an adopted sibling if you want, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed something

A/N: Alright, this is the first Fic I’ve ever posted on here. I’m honestly a little nervous, but hopefully you enjoy. I’ll probably end up posting this on my Ao3 too so I’ll link that at some point.

My Master List | Ao3

—

“I’m gonna miss you”, Eddie whines as he leans against the locker next to yours.

“It’s one class”, you reply as you swap out your English textbook for history, “that’s, what, an hour?”

“Actually I have Davis’s class next so it feels more like three hours”, Eddie says.

You snort. Mr. Davis has probably been around since the dinosaur era, and if there were to be a competition for most boring teacher at Hawkins High, he would win it hands down.

“It’s not funny”, Eddie teasingly pouts, “I might actually die of boredom.”

“As much as I would hate for that to happen, I’ve got my own class to get to, so unfortunately you’re on your own for now,” you reply.

“Alright well, please tell the rest of Hellfire I’m going to miss them”, he tells you, “and feel free to wear that black skirt of yours to the funeral. The tight one. It’s what I would’ve wanted.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re so dramatic”, you say, “I’ll see you later.”

“If I survive that long”, he calls. You shake your head before turning the corner and heading into your history classroom.

“Okay, class”, your teacher, Mr. Price announces once the bell rings, “I’ve written some questions on the board. You’ll find the answers in Chapter 5 of your textbook. Write them down and turn them in by the end of class. You may work with a partner if you’d like.”

You pull your textbook out of your bag and flip to a clean sheet in your notebook. You don’t have any friends in this class, so you figure you may as well just do it yourself and get it over with. That is, until a voice startles you as you’re about to start reading the first page of the chapter.

“Hey, Y/N. Do you wanna work together?”

You blink up at the source of the voice and are pretty sure you must be hallucinating. That’s the only explanation you can think of as to why Jason Carver would be asking you to be his partner.

The two of you have been in the same grade since Kindergarten and you can't think of a single time in all those years that he’s directly acknowledged your existence. The closest thing you have to a connection with him is that your little brother is friends with one of his new Basketball recruits, but you kind of doubt he even knows or cares about that. There’s a few members of his little posse he could be asking to work with him, so you have no clue why he’d be asking you of all people. But, you don’t have anyone else, so you shrug.

“Sure, I guess”, you say.

“Great”, he smiles, moving to sit down next to you.

“I’ll get started on number 1”, you suggest, “maybe you can do number 2 and we’ll compare?”

“Sure”, he says sweetly. You’re honestly getting a little freaked out by how friendly he’s being.

You both do your agreed upon work, and then switch off to show each other your answers.

“So?” you ask when he’s finished reading yours, “does that seem right?”

“Yeah”, he replies, “you’re good at this. You ever thought about being a tutor?”

“Oh, no, not really”, you say.

“See, I just ask because our youth group has this program where some of us older members help the younger kids out after school and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s cool”, you tell him, not really engaged the conversation. It all sounds well and good, but you really aren’t interested in being a tutor at the moment.

“You know, the church has a lot of great programs”, Jason continues, and you’re not sure what any of this has to do with the Byzantine empire, which is what you’re supposed to be discussing.

“Okay”, you say.

“They do a lot of outreach, a lot of stuff to help people who have lost their way.”

“Lost their way?” you inquire, a small part of you beginning to understand what’s actually going on.

“Yeah. You know. Made bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people.”

“Um, I think we should just get back to the assignment”, you suggest, uncomfortable with the discussion and not wanting it to go any further.

“Look”, Jason sighs, “what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a nice girl. I’d hate to see you go down a bad path.”

Okay. You get it now, and it’s starting to piss you off.

“Thank you, but I’m doing just fine”, you insist.

“You’ve been hanging around with Eddie Munson”, Jason says, as if it’s some scandalous secret and not just you spending time with your boyfriend, “you really shouldn’t do that, you know…”

You stare at him, a little dumbfounded he would just up and say such a thing to you.

“You can’t be serious…”, you say.

Jason leans in to you, a deadly serious expression on his face.

“I’ve heard about guys like him before”, he tells you, “I know the stuff they’re into.”

Yeah, so do you. It’s tabletop role playing games, which is about the least nefarious activity you could possibly think of. Jason clearly doesn’t see it that way, though, because he’s still going on.

“And I know they like to lure innocent people like you into their little organizations. I’m telling you, Munson is bad news. You should stay away before you get hurt.”

You seriously have to hold yourself back from laughing right in Jason’s face. You’re not sure what reality he’s living in, but it clearly isn’t the same one you are. Last weekend, you and Eddie had watched Terms of Endearment and he’d started to cry (well started tearing up at least, even sniffled a little, though he vehemently denied it). There’s not a single situation in which you can ever imagine him causing you intentional harm.

“Okay, you know what”, you say, “I think I’m gonna finish the rest of the assignment alone, thanks.”

Jason grabs your arm gently but firmly. “I’m serious, Y/N. He’s dangerous. Stay away from him before you end up hurt or killed.”

You’re really not sure what the most offensive part of all this is. It’s either that Jason thinks that somehow Eddie Munson, your lovable dork of a boyfriend,is secretly an evil Satanist cult leader, or that you’re apparently too stupid or naive to make that kind of judgment for yourself. Maybe it’s that he volunteered to work with you on an assignment and acted all friendly with you just so he could get this opportunity to preach to you about your supposedly “dangerous” lifestyle. He’s never given you the time of day before, after all.

“I don’t know what it is you think you see in him, but I promise you it’s not going to end well.”

You snort. Is he, what, jealous or something? He’s got a girlfriend, after all, and plenty of other girls who’d be willing to take her place if she were to leave him. It’s kind of sad that he’s apparently so insecure that the mere thought of Eddie Munson getting female attention is enough to have him losing his shit like this.

“Whatever”, you spit, “just leave me alone.”

He glares at you, but ultimately turns his attention to his textbook and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the class.

You happily shove the encounter out of your mind once the bell rings. You’re perfectly content with the social circle you keep, and you’re not going to let some jock with an inflated sense of self importance change that.

Jason apparently doesn’t do the same because he spends lunch glaring at you from his table. Granted, him shooting disgusted looks in the general direction of the Hellfire Club is a regular occurance, but today he’s making it obvious his ire is directed specifically at you.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Eddie asks.

“I dunno”, you shrug, “he’s just an asshole.”

Eddie peers at him for a moment and you can see a familiar glint of mischief twinkle in his eye. Before you can comment, he’s dramatically pushing himself to his feet and sauntering over to Jason and company.

“What do you want?” Jason demands.

“Couldn’t help but notice you staring”, Eddie says, “just wanted to let you know that I’m flattered, but unfortunately you aren’t really my type. Sorry.”

“Fuck off”, Jason barks, “disgusting freak.”

“Don’t take it too hard”, Eddie says, giving him a joking pat on the shoulder before making his way back over to you. You stifle a laugh at the indignant look plastered on Jason’s face. Eddie shoots you a proud grin and you shake your head affectionately. Jason clearly doesn’t know shit about “guys like Eddie.”

The next few days pass by uneventfully. Jason doesn’t try talking to you again, which you’re thankful for. Wednesday starts out normally, you go to history, and Jason roundly ignores your presence. Then you have to go to your next class, which is gym.

Definitely not a favorite of yours, and you don’t even have Eddie in your class to ease the pain. You make it through your warm ups, and then the coach has you split up to practice your volleyball serves. Everything’s going well until Andy, one of Jason’s buddies, approaches you out of nowhere.

“Hey, Henderson”, he says, a smirk on his face, “you think you could score me some weed?”

You look at him, confused. You don’t get involved in Eddie’s side hustle, so you’re not sure why he’d ask you.

“What?”

“Oh, I just figured you probably get a good discount”, he goes on, “I mean, that’s why you let Munson fuck you, right?”

You freeze in shock, your cheeks starting to grow hot. You can’t say you’re used to people making comments about your sex life, especially not to your face.

“I mean, I gotta say”, Andy continues, a cruel glint in his eye, “I didn’t take you for a slut. But come on. Spreading your legs for that freak? Jesus, that’s sad. You know, I’d be happy to show you a good time, since you’re so desperate for it.”

You can only stand there, mouth agape. Sure, you’ve gotten a gross comment or two from a male classmate before, but nothing like this. You certainly have never been called a slut before. You try to formulate a response, but you can’t come up with one. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the coach’s whistle rings out, signaling for you all to hit the changing rooms. You dash out of the gym, more than pleased to be away from Andy.

You hop in the shower in the locker room, take a few moments to shake off the discomfort of the interaction. You’re not entirely successful in that endeavor, because it keeps playing in your mind even after you’re dressed and making your way back into the hallways.

You have no idea where the hell Andy came up with all of that. At this point, it’s common knowledge that you and Eddie are dating, but you don’t know where this idea that you’re sleeping with him for drugs came from. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Hey, Beautiful”, you’re distracted from your thoughts by Eddie, who comes happily bounding over to you. His face falls when he sees the look on your face though.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine”, you say. Something about the idea of telling Eddie about what happened leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s embarrassing, and you definitely don’t want him to feel like it’s somehow his fault that Jason and Andy are giving you a hard time.

Besides, it doesn’t matter. Once again, nothing they say about you or Eddie is true. You can’t let some stupid jocks get to you.

Honestly, you probably could’ve been okay, if that was the end of it. Unfortunately, things only get worse the next day.

As you make your way to your seat in history, you catch sight of Amber and Samantha, two cheerleaders who like to hang around Jason and the others, whispering as you walk by.

You ignore them, figuring you’re being paranoid and they probably aren’t even talking about you, but when you sit down, Amber turns and looks you right in the eye.

She raises her voice then, clearly intending for you to hear what she’s saying.

“I hope she’s gotten tested”, she tells Samantha, “I can’t imagine what nasty shit the Freak is passing on to her.”

You take a deep breath, turning away from her.

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, it’s not true.

“I hope the drugs are worth it,” Samantha says.

You clench your jaw as you slip into your seat. It shouldn’t bother you so much. It's not true, and even if it were, who cares what Amber and Samantha have to say about it?

You’re dating Eddie because you like him. You like the way he’s always joking around and making you laugh, you like that he makes a point of looking out for Dustin and his friends, you like the way he looks at you with those big puppy dog eyes and flashes that mischievous grin. Cheap access to his drugs has never even crossed your mind.

You shouldn’t concern yourself with what they say, you know that, but hearing your name in connection with “slut” grinds at you.

During gym class, you do your best to avoid Andy, because everytime he notices you looking at him, he’s making some suggestive gesture at you. You don’t bother telling anyone about it, since Andy’s on the basketball team and the coach would probably take his side.

In the hallway, you accidentally bump into Patrick from the basketball team. You mutter an apology, which he accepts, but his girlfriend gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t talk to her”, you hear her tell him as you walk away, “she’s a slut.”

All of the gossip has put you in a foul mood by the time you get to your second to last period of the day, which happens to be study hall.

Like always, it’s in the cafeteria, with you and a bunch of other students of varying grade levels all sitting around doing your homework. Technically, you’re not supposed to talk, but the teacher in charge is way too underpaid to worry about enforcing that, so you can usually get away with conversation as long as things don’t get too rowdy.

You’re not taking advantage of that today, rather trying your best to distract yourself by actually doing your homework. You’re halfway through summarizing Act 3 of Hamlet when you hear someone say your name.

“Hey, Y/N…”

You’re confused when you look up to find Lucas standing there. Technically, you’ve known him for years, but it’s not like you’ve ever associated with him outside the time he spends with Dustin.

“What?” you ask, a little meaner than you mean to.

“I just thought you should know that…well, I think Jason has been going around saying things about you.”

Of course. You should’ve known Jason was behind this. Jason fucking Carver. Captain of the Basketball Team. Active member of the local church. Son of one of the most respected families in Hawkins. He’s clearly used to people listening to whatever he has to say. Apparently, his ego couldn’t handle you dismissing his comments about your relationship with Eddie.

Jesus, you’d always known he was a bit of an asshole, but this is a level of pettiness you’d never expected, even from him.

“Don’t tell him I told you”, Lucas adds, “but I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you”, you say. You’re definitely glad to have that piece of information.

The next day, you storm into Mr. Price’s classroom with righteous fury coursing through your veins. You bypass your desk and instead march straight up to Jason.

He pauses his conversation with Andy and Samantha when he sees you approach.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You demand.

“Excuse me?” Jason asks.

“I know you’ve been starting rumors about me”, you tell him, “what exactly is your problem, Jason?”

“Me? I don’t have a problem”, Jason insists, “I just think it’s fair the men of Hawkins High get a warning about your ‘extracurricular’ activities.”

You can feel heat flood your cheeks.

“You’re a dick, Jason!” you hiss.

“You know, Y/N”, Jason retorts, “I actually feel bad for you. I mean, no decent man is ever going to want you when they find out you’ve been giving it up to some trailer trash freak.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you snap.

“Believe me, I know exactly what happens to girls who hang around with filthy, Satan-worshiping scumbags”, he says, “and you know what? I’m not going to feel sorry for you when they’re finding your body dumped in the woods.”

“Get over yourself!”

“Whatever”, Jason shakes his head, “I’m not gonna take the attitude from some little slut.”

You’re not fully in control of yourself during what happens next. One second you’re standing there listening to Jason degrade you, the next your fist is connecting with his face.

He stands there, stunned for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something. He doesn’t get the chance though, because Mr. Price gets to it first.

“Ms. Henderson”, he gasps, “Mr. Carver, what on earth is going on here?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason spits accusingly.

“I-I…I’m sorry I…”

“Enough”, Mr. Price sighs, “I want both of you going to the principal’s office right now!”

You’re in deep shit. That much is immediately clear. You punched Jason Carver in the face. It’s not like you even claim it was self defense, since he didn’t do anything physical to you.

“So”, Principal Higgins sighs, “tell me what happened again?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason hisses.

“Is that true?”

“Yes”, you sigh, “but he called me a slut.”

Principal Higgins rubs his temple, processing the information. Meanwhile, Jason’s gaze is fixed firmly on you, his eyes full of hatred.

“Mr. Carver”, Higgins says finally, “that is not appropriate language to use in regards to another student. You may go back to class, but I better not hear about something like this again.”

Jason stands and marches out of the office, as if he has a right to be pissed about Higgins’ scolding. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he gets a slap on the wrist. Nobody wants to punish the star basketball player. You’re certain that if it were anyone else, Eddie or Dustin or one of the other Hellfire Club members, they definitely wouldn’t be getting off so easily.

“Now, as for you Ms. Henderson”, Higgins says, “we do not allow for any sort of violence in this school. However, in all your years at this school, you have never had to receive any form of discipline. So I’m willing to be flexible here. Normally, something like this could be grounds for suspension, but since this is your first time, I say it’s two weeks detention after school starting next Monday. Does that sound fair to you?”

Not really, no, but you can’t say that.

“Yes”, you reply instead.

“Alright. Good. Now go back to class. And Ms. Henderson, I sincerely hope I won’t have to see you in my office again.”

You’re in a bad mood when Mr. Price’s class finally ends. You’ve gone your entire high school career without getting a detention and now you’ve ruined that over some pompous dick bag. Speaking of, Jason has been staring daggers at you since you returned to class, and is continuing to do so even now as you’re leaving.

There’s a tense, awkward moment where you both stand there in the hallway, glaring at each other, but it’s broken when the force of a body colliding with your back almost takes you off your feet. Jason is forgotten when a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Eddie”, you huff playfully.

“How’d you know it was me?” he asks as you turn around to face him.

“Cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Munson”, you reply.

“Don’t blame me”, he replies, “you know I’m powerless to resist your charms.”

Before you can reply he’s pulling you close and beginning to press kisses to your cheek. You know the two of you are making a scene, and on any other day you might be a little self conscious about it, but today you’re just glad to have him around.

His kisses stop suddenly and you realize he’s stopped because he’s finally noticed Jason’s hateful glaring. Unfazed as always, he just flashes a cocky smile and gives Jason a mocking impression of a friendly wave. Jason makes a face like he’s wishing for both you and Eddie’s violent deaths.

“Geez”, Eddie comments, “he looks pissed.”

“Um, yeah, probably because I punched him in the face”, you mutter.

Eddie’s eyes widen in obvious surprise.

“He had it coming”, you add, “he was being a Dick.”

You know you don’t have to defend yourself to Eddie. He knows better than anyone how nasty Jason can be.

“My, my, Fair Lady Henderson”, he smiles, “I dare say that was very Metal of you.”

“Yeah, well, Higgins didn’t think so”, you reply, “I got two weeks detention for it.”

“Ol’ Higgins never did have a sense of humor”, Eddie says, “but from where I’m standing, you’re basically a hero.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah”, Eddie tells you, “Jason and his goons have been making our lives miserable for years.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You’re definitely not happy with the day’s events, but knowing Eddie’s on your side makes it a little more bearable.

On Monday you begrudgingly make your way to Mrs. Cline’s room for your first day of detention.

“Ms. Henderson?” she asks when you walk in.

“Yeah”, you say, a little embarrassed.

“Wonderful”, she says, checking your name off of a list in front of her, “please take a seat.”

There’s only two other people in there with you, so you just pick a seat as far from them as possible and sit down.

“Alright”, Mrs. Cline says, “looks like everyone’s here except…”

“I’m here.”

You look up in surprise to see Eddie come walking into the room.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Munson”, Mrs. Cline says dryly, “what a surprise. Please take a seat.”

You know that Eddie isn’t a stranger to detention, but it’s weird that he didn’t mention anything to you when you’d told him about it. He walks over to the desk next to yours, looking way too pleased for someone who’s about to serve a stint in detention.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Oh, you know, got caught vandalizing the boy’s locker room during free period”, he tells you.

“What? When?”

“Friday”, he says with a satisfied smirk.

You frown. This must’ve happened after the whole Jason thing on Friday which means…

Which means Eddie did it knowing that you were also going to be in detention.

“Eddie”, you say, “did you get detention just because I did?”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” he grins.

You can’t help but smile along with him.

“Mr. Munson, Ms. Henderson”, Mrs. Cline calls from her desk, “no talking during detention.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips and waits until Mrs. Cline looks away before giving you a playful wink. You stifle a giggle.

You don’t know Jason all that well, but you’re pretty sure he would never dream of landing himself in detention just to keep his girlfriend company. You’ve never seen him make a scene in the middle of the hallways to get her to smile. That’s the thing about this that really gets under your skin. Jason and the others don’t know shit. They think that just because Eddie doesn’t fall into their narrow definition of “acceptable”, he must be scary and dangerous. They think that just because you’re not afraid of him, you must be dirty and corrupted. They’re too close-minded to look closer and see that Eddie is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine, that you spend time with him because he makes you happy. They’d rather write him off as a freak and you off as a slut than accept that maybe their perception is wrong.

You’re far from being a violent person, but you can’t say you regret what you did. Jason deserved to be put in his place, and it’s not like you did any serious damage to him anyway. You’re glad you stood up for yourself, for Eddie. You’ve probably tacked “psycho bitch” onto your already unflattering “whore” reputation, but at this point, you’re not sure you care. If being a freak means you get to spend your days with the love of your life, you will gladly accept that label.

After the designated two hours are up, Mrs. Cline dismisses you all.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad”, you say as you and Eddie start making your way through the hall.

“Nah”, he replies, “I mean it’s boring but it’s not bad.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not planning on having to do this again”, you continue, “but it’s bearable.”

Eddie nods.

“I’m sorry, by the way”, he adds.

“For what?”

“Jason and the others. They’ve been giving you a hard time, right?”

“Yeah”, you shrug, “it is what it is. Not your fault.”

“I mean it kind of is”, Eddie replies, “they’re only doing it because you’re dating me.”

“Eddie”, you say, “Jason’s an asshole, okay? That’s not on you. If he can’t handle our relationship, then fuck him.”

That gets a grin out of Eddie.

“You know, you’re getting to be quite a rabble rouser, Henderson”, he jokes.

“I’m learning from the best”, you tease back.

Eddie’s smile widens. He follows you out to your car and then presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“See you tomorrow, Sweetheart”, he says and then heads off to his van. You watch him go, butterflies still lingering in your tummy from the contact.

If you’d actually had any doubts about Eddie, they would’ve disappeared in that moment. That feeling, it’s a one of a kind thing. No one’s ever managed to give it to you before, and you’re not sure anyone else ever will. You love Eddie. He loves you. He’s sweet, and silly and he treats you right. If your peers want to believe a bunch of bullshit about you two, then let them. You know what you have, and you’re not going to let them ruin it for you.

Grinning to yourself, you hop in your car, put the Black Sabbath tape you borrowed from Eddie into the player and head home.

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grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks · 2 months ago

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A quick little Scottish Safehouse fic for you. Check it out on AO3, or read below. Reblogs, replies, etc are always extremely appreciated.

They didn’t talk about it, at the safehouse. They talked about everything but – the weather, the dishes, the neighbors’ cows. They talked about Daisy, but only to comment about her decor, or her taste in books and music made evident by the small collection of vinyl and battered paperbacks scattered across the house. They didn’t talk about what she might be doing now. They didn’t speculate about whether Basira had made good on her promise yet.

Jon didn’t ask Martin about anything he’d said in the Lonely, though the words I really loved you, you know burned a constant hum in the back of his mind. Martin didn’t ask about any of the things he’d Seen. He wouldn’t know what to ask, even if he wanted to. Was it real? Do you love me? He wasn’t sure he needed to ask. What does it mean? Where do we go from here? That was closer to the mark, but terrifying. Everything felt so fragile at the moment. He didn’t want to push. It was easier, safer, to keep things light. Was the tea in Daisy’s cupboards still good? Had Jon seen that grey heron in the stream outside the window? Should they stop by the library the next time they went into town for groceries?

They barely spoke at all when they went to bed. The nerve-wracking reality of sharing a bed, just inches apart, overpowered any instinct to chat. So they said nothing, falling asleep to the sound of the other’s breathing until it was time for one or both of them to be woken by a nightmare.

***

The first night, it was Martin. He tossed and turned in his sleep, badly enough to shake Jon from his own bad dreams, so Jon could hear the second he woke with a hitched, choked breath.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “You’re alright, it was just a dream.”

“Jon?”

“I’m here.”

Jon reached across and slipped his hand into Martin’s, and Martin squeezed it like a lifeline. They didn’t say anything else, after that, but when they finally fell asleep nearly an hour later, their hands were still clasped together.

***

In the morning, they talked about the crossword.

“How do you spell obstinate?” Martin asked across the breakfast table.

“O-B-S-T-I-N-A-T-E.”

“Hmm. Too many letters, then.”

“What’s the clue?”

“Stubborn, 8 letters.” Martin told him. “First two letters are O and B.”

“What about ‘obdurate?’”

Martin pencilled it in. “It fits.” He frowned down at the puzzle with a contemplative hum. “And if that’s an R, then that means I was right about 4 down from the beginning…” He filled in a few more clues, then looked up from the puzzle and scoffed. “Obdurate,” he repeated, incredulous. “Who uses the word obdurate?”

***

Jon was woken after midnight by Martin’s harsh, shuddering breaths – crying or on the verge of tears; Jon couldn’t tell. He reached out, and Martin breathed out a shaky sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was on the beach again,” Martin whispered. “I was alone.”

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“I know.” Another sigh as he struggled to calm his breathing. “I know.”

***

The next day, they talked about the laundry.

“We forgot to buy detergent,” Jon informed him after spending the morning inspecting Daisy’s laundry room and its ancient washer-dryer.

“Daisy didn’t leave any behind?”

“You can look for yourself if you want, but I didn’t see any.”

“I trust you.”

Jon settled on the couch and spread the throw blanket across his lap. “How much did you pack? Do you think we can put off doing laundry until after we go to the shops?”

“Sure,” Martin told him, though in truth he hadn’t packed much. “We’ll be fine.”

***

When Jon woke, he didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound. He lay on his back, letting his tears slide down his cheeks in total silence, certain that he hadn’t woken Martin. But when he finally had to breathe – the tell-tale hiccuping inhale of someone who had just been crying – Martin rolled over to face him.

“Jon?”

“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Martin watched him. Jon’s chest rose and fell unsteadily, and in the light of the nearly-full moon outside their window, Martin could see the tear tracks glisten, incriminating, on his face.

Jon finally turned to face him, and they lay face to face for a long, silent moment. A strand of long, grey-streaked hair had fallen into Jon’s face with the movement, and Martin reached out to tuck it behind his ear.

“Oh, Jon…”

He let his hand linger, cupping his jaw, then moved it an inch to brush aside the tears from Jon’s cheeks. His hand was warm, and Jon’s skin was cold, and Jon turned his face to press into that point of warm, gentle contact.

Jon waited for Martin to pull his hand away. Martin waited for Jon to turn away again. Neither of them moved.

Finally, Jon closed the space between them to tuck his face into the crook of Martin’s neck. Martin held his breath for a moment before bringing his arms up to pull Jon even closer.

They woke up that morning entwined in each other’s arms, but they didn’t talk about it.

***

“We’re almost out of eggs.”

“Already?”

“It’s probably my fault,” Martin admitted. “I used a lot of them for my omelet yesterday.”

“Well, we needed to go shopping anyway.”

Martin hmm’ ed thoughtfully. “There was something else we needed. Wasn’t there?”

“There was,” Jon agreed. “God, what was it?”

“We should start writing these things down.”

***

That night, Jon had another nightmare. Martin could hear him trying to stifle his crying once again, and reached out.

Jon froze at the contact, caught like a deer in the headlights. Then he turned to press himself against Martin’s chest and let himself be held.

“Nightmare?” Martin asked, and Jon nodded.

“I couldn’t look away,” he murmured. “I tried to, but– I just stood there and watched.”

Martin pressed Jon to him. “It’s alright,” he said, though it wasn’t exactly true. Then he whispered, “I’m here,” which was.

***

The next day, they went into town for groceries. They chatted a bit on the walk there.

“God, breathe that air,” Martin exclaimed, sucking in a good lungful for himself.

“I’m breathing it…” Jon said. “Is there… something I’m supposed to notice?”

“It’s fresh!” Martin told him. “It’s good, country air! I don’t miss London right now, I’ll tell you that.”

“No.” Jon glanced at Martin, bundled in his worn peacoat against the highland chill. “I can’t say I miss London either.”

They chatted more in the grocery store.

“Where are you going?”

“I just want to look at the tea selection…”

“We already have so much back at the house.”

“I’m just looking!”

And more, on the walk back.

“Ooh, look there! Is that a falcon? Or a hawk?”

“A hawk.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, it’s a Eurasian sparrowhawk.”

“Know-it-all.”

“Yes, Martin, that’s sort of the idea.”

And more, when they got back to the safehouse.

“Geez,” Martin said as they walked through the front door, “it’s getting a bit nippy, isn’t it? Should we have a fire tonight?”

“Yes, that’s probably–”

Martin dropped the tote bag he was holding with an abrupt clunk.

“Laundry detergent!”

Jon didn’t have to ask what he meant; he just swore under his breath.

“Damnit!”

“We forgot laundry detergent.”

“Look, Martin, you finish putting the groceries away and I’ll run back to the shop.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to. It’s a long way–”

“I want to.”

“Alright.” Jon bit his lip around the urge to smile. “If you’re sure.”

***

It was Martin’s turn for a nightmare that night. It was too much to ask, it seemed, that just once they both sleep soundly.

He was crying. Quietly, but not so quietly that it didn’t stand out starkly against the silence of the house. He had his back to Jon, and Jon watched his shoulders shake for a single hesitant moment before he wrapped his arms around Martin’s waist.

“Was it the same dream?” he asked in a barely-there whisper, and Martin shook his head.

“You were there this time,” he said. “In the Lonely. But you… you hated me. You didn’t say it, but I could tell– I knew– you wanted me to go.”

“I’m sorry.”

Martin sniffled. “It was just a dream,” he said, as much to himself as to Jon.

“I… I don’t want you to go.”

“I know. You don’t have to… It was just a dream,” Martin repeated.

They let the silence hang in the air for a time, Jon holding Martin in a wordless embrace, Martin letting the tears come without trying to fight them this time. Jon broke the silence to murmur,

“I was prepared to stay.”

“What?”

“When I went into the Lonely, I didn’t know if I’d be able to pull you out – I didn’t know if I’d be able to pull myself out. I just knew…” he took a steadying breath, and pressed his ear to Martin’s back to hear the quiet beating of his heart. “I’d rather be there with you than leave you there alone.”

“Oh.”

Martin took Jon’s hand in his, pressing it to his chest like a talisman, like it could ward off the Lonely. Maybe it could.

“Thanks, Jon. I…” Another sentence he couldn’t finish. “Thank you.”

Jon turned his head and pressed a kiss to the back of Martin’s neck. In that moment, it felt natural. It felt simple. It felt right.

Martin sighed. The sound was warm, and gentle, and content, and it felt so loud against the silence of the room.

They didn’t talk about it.

***

The next day, they did laundry.

The washer seemed up to the task, but the dryer, which Jon had been dubious of since the moment he set eyes on it, gave out halfway through the first spin cycle. In the end, they had to hang it up to dry.

They worked as a team, Jon handing Martin clothes and pegs and Martin hanging them on the laundry line that stood in the yard behind the safehouse.

They chatted while they worked.

“I’ve never seen you wear this in my life,” Martin remarked as he hung up one of Jon’s old tee shirts from uni.

“Yes, well, I was in a bit of a hurry when I packed…”

Martin read the text printed in too-small serif across the front of the shirt, and his face split into a grin.

“Wait, am-dram? You did am-dram in uni?”

“Very briefly.”

“This explains so much about you.”

“Shut up, Martin,” Jon muttered without any real venom.

“Well, let’s hear something! You must have a bit of Shakespeare memorized.”

He did, but he wasn’t going to say as much while Martin was mocking him.

“I’m not a performing monkey.”

“Oh, come on, just one quick monologue! Just a little, ‘But soft, what light through yonder window breaks…’”

“It is the east, and Juliet is the sun,” Jon finished rotely and without intonation. “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou her maid art far more fair than she – and that’s as much as you’ll get out of me.”

Jon bent over to grab more laundry and did his best to hide his face.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

Martin grinned. “Very.”

“Well… that’s good,” he said stiffly. “I’m glad.”

Martin looked at Jon – desperately embarrassed, surrounded by sodden tee shirts, windswept silver-black hair gleaming in the late September sun – and felt more fond than he ever had of anyone in his life.

“I love you.”

The words slipped out before he realized what he was saying. Jon’s head swung around to stare.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t– I mean– I know it’s–”

“You do?” Jon’s words were quiet and utterly serious.

Martin gave an anxious little nod. “Yeah.” His voice came out smaller than he expected. “I do. I really, really do.”

Jon let the pair of trousers he was holding fall to the ground as he surged forward to kiss him.

***

Another nightmare. Another round of whispered reassurances.

“It’s alright, you’re alright, I’m here.”

When the shock wore off and they were able to shake the residual dread from their respective bad dreams, they turned to face each other on the mattress. The light from the barely-waning moon painted everything in shades of dusky silver.

For a long time, they didn’t speak; they simply studied each other’s faces. Eventually, Jon brought his forehead up to rest against Martin’s.

“I love you.”

Martin swallowed. He still wasn’t used to hearing it. Jon wasn’t used to saying it.

“I love you, too.”

Their lips met in one soft, slow kiss, and then they pulled away just enough to gaze at each other as they fell back into sleep.

#tma fanfic #tma fic #jonmartin fic #do not archive #jmart fic #jonmartin fanfic #jonmartin #scottish safehouse period #scottish safehouse fic

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bimboothefool · 1 year ago

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𝔒𝔲𝔯 ℑ𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔰 𝔄𝔯𝔢 ℜ𝔢𝔡

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐀𝐝𝐚 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝓇𝓎! 𝒜 𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑜𝓅𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹! ℛ𝓊𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇, 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅.” The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley

𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔖𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: A mysterious yet familiar looking woman enters your life in the midst of the various murders happening. Yet why and what makes this woman so familiar to you..?

𝔗𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰: Reader is femme/femme coded and uses she/her, that’s where the specification ends. Mentions of death, details of death through police reports. Stalking, Ada getting jealous and possessive. Might add more later if it pops up.

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔏𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯: Separate ways has been out for awhile now, why not make more fics for Ada. She definitely needs more love. Also this story is heavily inspired by Little Red Riding Hood and The Path. I highly recommend it! Might make more fairytale retellings later down the line. We’ll see~ Feel free to read it on Ao3!

The combination of the stench of booze, noisy crowd and blasting music. Was practically sensory hell.

You decided to use an excuse to get some fresh air as a way to escape the bar’s suffocating atmosphere. As your footsteps echoed and the crowd’s chatter grows more quiet, you reminisce on the dreams you’ve been having as of lately.

“A forest graveyard, dead tree and a girl in red turning into a wolf… What does it mean…” You remembered talking to your mom about what you dreamt about and she recalls the times your childhood friend Claire searched for you. She found you sleeping against a tree that was in the deeper parts of the forest. She didn’t always come alone, Chris accompanied her just to be safe.

However a part of your brain couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were missing something crucial. Like your version of events isn’t right.

“Mom keeps saying these are signs, yet I’m not sure what they’re telling me…” You clutched your coat tighter around your form, trying to keep yourself safe from the cold night air. You unconsciously walked towards the forest, you remember this path. Your senses kick in as you sent your location to your friend group chat, just so that they won’t run around looking for you, like chickens without their heads.

As you walked along the path, you saw a playground sign, along with a yellow flower. Putting it in your coat pocket. “I remember this park, me and Claire would always explore here as kids.” You plucked the yellow flower from the ground and walked into the forest, sending your location again. So far they don’t seem to notice that you left the party to explore the woods.

All you could see was the bright full moon shining above you and what you can hear is your footsteps crunching the dead leaves underneath. You arrived at the playground noticing that it’s metal parts were not treated so kindly by time. Yet the memories it held still filled you with relief, you sat on the swing set.

The faint smell of flowers, the fall breeze and the cool sensation of the wind, felt like it made your stress get blown away.

You took the yellow flower out of your pocket, lightly twirling it in your hand. Currently pondering on what has been happening lately. The talk of monsters or monster murdering people left and right, changing the lock on your door. It was weighing on your mind so heavily especially when something broke into your house.

The party was supposed to lift your mood, yet it did nothing to deter the sinking feeling that you were being watched and everything you did was under a microscope.

You just wanted to— “Mind if I sit here?” A woman’s voice brought you out of your spiraling thoughts. “O-Oh! Umm… Uhhh…sure go ahead.” You looked away from her brown eyes. It’s almost like they’re looking into your soul or can see your skeleton.

She sat down and swung slightly, her red nails shone under the moonlight. You couldn’t help, but feel like you’ve seen her before. Especially those brown eyes. Your mind flashes the memory of the girl in red, as she looks towards you, her eyes become clear to see. They’re brown as well. “What’s a girl like you doing out here, alone?” Her voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You fiddled with the yellow flower once more trying to put yourself at ease. “I…needed fresh air and some alone time…” You answered softly, almost as a whisper that was only meant for her ears.

“So you went to the park deep into the forest for that?” You realized now how dangerous your choice was, yeah you let your friends know where you are, but who knows what or who will seek you. “Dumb I know, but I just don’t want to burden anyone right now… I’d just kill the mood.”

The chains rattle as she places her hand over yours, her warmth reaching to your heart. The flower peeking from your joined hands. You shouldn’t be falling in love so easily with a stranger and yet she feels so familiar. The isolation and alienation makes you cling to any sense of familiarity no matter how innocent it may seem.

“Ada, my name is Ada. And yours?” She introduced herself, slightly swinging you both. “Ada…” You let it slip off your tongue, the name is also familiar too. You tell her your name and you see a smile grace her glossed up lips. “That’s a pretty name.” You felt your cheeks get warm as your heart beats faster. “Thanks Ada…” Ada giggles at your shy reply.

You spent the time just talking and now, Ada’s making you a flower crown with a couple of yellow flowers and daisies she found. She gently placed the crown on your head, smiling warmly at you.

As you two stared into eachother’s eyes, it was almost as if time started to slow down, but it suddenly starts again once your phone goes off. “Are you gonna answer it?” Ada teased as you pout, hurriedly grabbing your phone from your pocket. “Thank god you picked up! We were worried sick!” Claire’s voice rang clear, you decided to just tell to her why you wandered off. “Yeah sorry I worried you, I just didn’t wanna kill the mood with my paranoia…” You could almost hear her smile as she laughed. “You kill the mood? Hardly, besides your feelings are valid. Especially with everything that’s happened. At least we got you out of the house and tried.”

“I’m gonna head back to the bar right now. Hopefully it won’t be far.” Both you and Claire mutually hung up as you turned on the GPS on your phone on. “Wanna head back with me?” You asked Ada holding out your hand for her.

Ada’s eyes widened at your hand and offer. “Oh… Okay, lead the way.” She says and gently takes your hand, leading you two out of the forest. Right back on the path you came from as the crickets chirped, you at the crescent moon shining above you. Now that you hear her footsteps along with yours, it frankly made you feel reassured and safe.

Claire being shocked was an understatement and frankly, this mystery woman appearing with you walking back in the bar. Hand and hand has left her severely confused. “Ada Wong… Hmmm…” She looks on as Ada lights up the room. The way you two have interacted thus far made her think she’s a childhood friend of yours. Yet she’s known you since you were infants, Claire knows your deepest, most intimate secrets yet she can’t really recall who Ada could be.

But the feeling that Ada’s presence was odd didn’t shake off even when she smiled or laughed. It felt fake, it all felt like it was scripted and the unsuspecting were gobbling Ada’s act right up.

‘Whoever Ada is… I have a feeling we’ve seen her before.’ Claire silently vowed in her head, soon Ada caught a glimpse of Claire’s face. Her concerned look only fuels Ada further. Her hand drapes over your shoulder possessively. Silently telling Claire to back off.

“She’s gotta be kidding me…” Claire mumbles in disbelief.

Weeks turned to months and months turned into a year. After two months, it wasn’t long before you started to date Ada. She was always so loving and dotting, you are everything to her. You were spending a sickeningly long amount of time with Ada.

Though throughout that duration of time, Claire decided to look into her. Starting up a silent investigation on Ada’s background. Oddly enough when she tried looking into her general history, not much came up. No birth certificate, prior home addresses or even a family member. It was just blank dead end after blank dead end.

So when the computer data failed, she asked the locals more specifically Ada’s neighbors. They all said she’d just miraculously moved here one day and is generally a kind woman. However a select few of them, feel like there’s something off about her especially since they’ve never seen her come home in the early hours of dawn. However they did note that they’ve seen a large dog like creature around the area.

Claire with a clearer idea, decides to back home to take a look at the victims one more time, after clicking through online pages of police reports, she suddenly realizes some of them are your ex’s and a couple of them are people who’ve flirted with you. She vividly recognizes you dating one of them in senior year of highschool, another during your freshman year of college and the guy hitting on you during the party she took you to. The day you introduced Ada. The murders seemed to have suddenly stopped once you started dating her and nobody’s been harmed since then.

It was either the worst timing or Ada’s genuinely tied to the murders that had happened prior to Claire meeting her.

Claire looks through the files especially in regards to the pattern. Claire was beyond mortified. “The only thing tying the victims together was the method of murder. Claw marks and puncture wounds, yet animal researchers were unable to identify which animal it could belong to. Furthermore the zoos in the nearby area have yet to file a missing animal case…” Claire looks around feeling herself being watched, she quickly gets up to lock all of her doors, windows and whatever entrance there may be.

Claire heads back into her room, opening her laptop again and decides to look into potential sightings about a dog like creature near the town. Not much showed up, only local paranormal blogs have picked up the story and catalogued this creature’s appearances. Soon she finds one with photo evidence, her heart begins to stop. Those eyes, she remembers them.

Those cold, blood thirsty eyes, from all those years ago. Claire immediately shuts off the laptop, hurriedly getting dressed. She quickly dials your number, yet she’s getting no answer. “SHIT!”

“I’m really worried about Claire… She’s been off lately…” Your eyes trailed to the side of the forest path as you and Ada walked side by side. “Hey, don’t worry about her, I’m sure she’s fine.” Ada said nonchalantly, still you really couldn’t shake the feeling of concern for Claire’s wellbeing off. “Still she usually has a reason… I dunno, maybe you’re right, I’m probably overreacting..?” Your eyes looked at Ada’s, trying to find a small semblance of reassurance.

Ada leans closer, her warm hand cups your cheek. Her thumb gently strokes the apple of your cheek. “No it’s understandable that you’re worried for her.” You sigh and held her hand that was on your cheek, leaning into her palm.

“…Thanks Ada, really it means a lot…” Ada hums and smooches your forehead. “I have to keep my princess grounded, don’t I?” You laugh dryly and smiled. “Guess so.” You and Ada walked off the path once more, heading towards a very familiar place. It was the forest graveyard you’ve been seeing in your dreams.

Being here sent chills down your spine, a gut wrenching feeling has your stomach unsettled. You feel like you shouldn’t be here.

The same decaying tree stands tall on the small hill as tombstones surround it. Ada turns to you and tilts her head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Something wrong?” You felt your body move on its own, making your way towards the dead tree. Ada calls out your name yet you cannot hear her.

Your memories started flowing back in all at once. Ada calls out your name and your whole world begin to spin. The dizziness makes you fall over, knocking you out effectively.

You heard the crickets chirping, the familiar smell of flowers invades your nose and you opened your eyes.

The full moon shines above you but is a bit filtered by the trees above. The fireflies providing as another source of light. A young girl’s voice calls out your name, it’s the girl in red.

“You always sleep in the strangest places.” She finally becomes clearer, the shadowy silhouette wearing just a red dress is finally melting away. Her eyes, they’re brown and beautiful. Her short black hair sways in the wind. “What’s the matter?” She giggles and you looked to see you’re a kid again. “Ada..?” She smiles at you and laughs. “That’s my name.” Your eyes widened slightly at this revelation. So that’s why she seemed so familiar.

You have met before, long before that night at the playground. Yet something tells you, that’s only a chunk of this story. “Where are we..?” The younger version of Ada replied. “The flower field silly! I promised to take you hear and teach you how to make flower crowns. Remember?” You immediately remember that promise.

“How could I forget that?” You mumbled out, with furrowed brows as Ada tilts her head. Her curious brown eyes looked at your baffled face. “Maybe you’ve been losing sleep?” You murmured a maybe to Ada, you got up. Dusting off the dirt and pollen off your clothes.

Ada grabs your head, urging you to follow her. You decided it was the best course of action for now. The two of you walked together hand in hand. You noticed she wore a messily strung together flower crown made of poppy flowers. You reached your head, taking your crown off to see it was more stable and lovingly crafted. The flowers used were white daisies.

“C’mon let’s go princess!” Ada happily said, pulling you along as the two of you reached the forest graveyard. The two of you reached the small hill where the decaying tree resides. You sat down with Ada as she warmly hugs you, cuddling with you. Your heart skipped a beat, at this familiar comfort you’ve been desperately seeking. Yet this felt wrong.

Extremely wrong, the familiar stomach knotting feeling returned once another familiar voice called out your name

“Claire..?” Ada’s eyes snapped towards a younger Claire. “Who’s this..?”

Claire worriedly asked, Ada gently pushes you behind her. She stalks towards Claire, staring knives into her form. “I’m her future wife and best friend.” Ada said in a matter of fact way, Claire looked confused.

“Don’t be stupid! I’m here to take my friend back home, her mom’s worried sick!” Claire stomps over to you, but Ada blocks her way. “No her mom doesn’t need to worry. She’s in under my protection.” Ada smiled stiffly at Claire. “Move! She has to go home, you two can always play tomorrow!” Claire said roughly shoving Ada to the ground, running towards you.

Claire takes your hand as she said. “You’re explaining this later. For now let’s go home.” The two of you turned to see Ada changing. Her bones snapping into a new shape, her hair growing longer and spreading throughout her new form. Her face turning into a wolf’s snout, sporting razor sharp teeth. Her once human ears became wolf like as well. Her brown eyes stare at Claire’s blue eyes with disgust and hatred.

All that stood was a monstrous wolf that barely resembles Ada. You stood there, your eyes widened with fear and realization. Those dreams, were a warning and you were a fool to not heed them. Something big outside of this dream was waiting for your present self and you wanted out so you could do something about it.

Ada roared and lunged at Claire, needing to act quickly you tug Claire’s sleeve and this leads the two of you to roll down the small hill as Ada slams into the tree.

You woke up with a big intake of breathe, clutching your heart. Unable to forget what happened in the dream. Ada was the girl in red, the one who transformed into that wolf like beast. How could you repress such a memory, you asked yourself internally. Yet you had an idea as to why, but couldn’t properly articulate that feeling.

Ada’s soft voice called out your name as her hand was on your shoulder. She wore a genuinely worried look on her face. “Are you okay..? You suddenly passed out and I didn’t know what to do…” You practically tuned her out as you looked to where you fell down the hill with Claire. It was now dark, but the moonlight provided enough light for you too see what you were looking for.

Just as you suspected it wasn’t a nightmare, that event did happen all those years ago. The gravestone you hit your back against was noticeably knocked back a bit, but still stood.

Ada gently shakes your shoulder, calling out your name as she follows your gaze. Her voice dies down in her throat. “…Oh.” Her almond nails dig themselves into your clothed shoulder possessively.

You perk up at the sound of Claire yelling out your name. “Claire..? CLAIRE NO STAY AWAY!” You yelled trying to discourage her to stay away and let you deal with Ada alone.

“NO I’M NOT LEAVING YOU!” Claire yelled back as you see her running towards you and you felt your body move on its own. Not deterred by Ada’s grip on your shoulder. You pushed her hand off and ran towards Claire trapping her in a tight hug. She returns it tenfold as Ada watches on with a blank stare.

Ada had worked so hard, and she doesn’t want to lose you again. Not to some silly human girl.

“I have so much to tell you, it’s about… Ada…” Claire’s eyes glared at Ada, whilst Ada sighs heavily. “Tell me something I don’t know…” You knew that from the dream alone, something much worse has reeled its head towards Claire.

“Those murders, the stalking it was all Ada… She’s not from here or even like us…” You felt a lump in your throat, the part of Ada being a monster you already knew. But the murders, the stalking it all made sense now.

“Why do this Ada..? Do you enjoy seeing me scared? Please talk to—“ You were cut off as Ada confessed. “I loved you.” You were utterly shocked by this. “Loved me..? But why kill those people, what did they do to you..?”

Ada sighs as she walks down the hill slowly and says. “They were obstacles and defective. Why not get rid of them, people like them just come and they go.” She continues to get closer as Claire drags you away. This doesn’t stop Ada, she raises her hand. Her nails effortlessly getting sharp. “And the only obstacle left, is Claire.”

You felt your blood run cold, you couldn’t help, but feel like their deaths were your shoulders. Even if Ada was your childhood friend and girlfriend, you still don’t want more people dying in your name or be hurt by Ada’s hand.

“Chris is on his way with backup. Get out of here!” Claire pulls out a gun, Ada huffs and knows it’s no use hiding anything anymore.

Your eyes looked at the moon, it was a full moon tonight. She quickly transforms into her true form, her bones snapping and contorting into a new shape. As she becomes that same black furred werewolf with razor sharp teeth, claws and her brown eyes had a red hue to them.

Claire pulls out her gun and starts trying shooting Ada’s leg to give you two an opening. Yet Ada was moving around swiftly, dodging the bullets with ease. You huffed and take Claire’s hand, running as fast as you two could. Zigzagging through the trees trying to shake Ada’s true form.

Once you lost her, but unfortunately you two weren’t out of the woods yet. You and Claire catch your breathe, the brunette beside you gasped as she walks over to something. You lifted your head and see her and a motorcycle that’s nature definitely got a hold of. “Hmmm… Maybe there’s a key around, odd that the tanks half full…” Claire murmured as something shined in the moonlight. You walked over to it and saw a key, you grabbed it and dusted off the dirt.

You showed her the key and her eyes light up. “That’s it! Let’s hope this is the key and we’ll hopefully be able to get out of this forest to meet up with Chris.” You hummed at her plan, helping her set the motorcycle up. Claire gets on and starts it up, the engine purrs to life. “C’mon hop on!” You nodded, suddenly your blood runs cold once you picked up on the sound of a growl. You hurriedly got on, grabbing onto Claire for dear life.

Claire soon drives it fast enough to dodge Ada’s pounce. You screamed as you smoosh your face on Claire’s back, Claire’s head was in this chase. If Ada wanted you, Ada’s gonna have to fight her first. As she swerved the motorcycle through the area, she sees the path through one of the tree. She makes a break for it hoping it’ll take Ada out of her element.

Claire repeatedly mumbled. “We’re gonna make it, we’re gonna make it…” She cranks up the speed as you two were out of the woods and back on the path. However as you two tried to make your exit, Ada swipes her claws at the motorcycle causing it to swerve violently to the opposite direction.

“Shit—!” You blurted whilst you lost your grip on Claire’s jacket. You felt yourself tumble and roll back onto the ground. You groaned, feeling a hot breathe on your face as you froze. Ada stares down at you, her now larger form covers your form.

“Ada… Please…” You pleaded, Claire screams out for you and a crazy idea strikes your brain. A crazy, potentially deadly idea. It may not make sense to Claire now, but if this can hold Ada back from going on a rampage. You’d rather take that brunt than let others get brutally killed.

“Claire, I want you to leave…” Claire’s eyes widened. “Are you fucking serious?! I’m not losing you, whatever you’re thinking please just—“

“I’m being dead fucking serious, Claire.” You turned your head to look at her, still on the ground as Ada watches you. “If Ada wants me and it stops the murders… I’ll let her have me…” You decided to do it not only for yourself, but for everyone.

“Besides, I made a promise. I promised to marry Ada, I just wanna honor that promise…” You knew how crazy it sounds, but it was the point. You needed to keep Ada away from Claire, Chris and everyone you cared about as far as possible.

Ada’s tail wags in delight at the prospect of you remembering her promise. “You promised to marry her..? Why if I can ask..?” You sighed and answered Claire honestly. “She’s my first love, I don’t wanna give up on what I started…”

Claire sorrowfully mumbled your name, knowing how hard it was to express that side of you. “Please Claire, just leave…” Claire stays for a bit, her lips quiver as her eyes became glossy. “Okay… I understand…” She starts the engine again and soon drives off. Leaving you with Ada and the sounds of nature.

Ada stares down at you with an unreadable expression or atleast given she’s in her wolf form so there’s probably not enough muscles in her face in this current form. She gets off of you, only to toss you over her shoulder. Walking back into the woods, back to where everything between you two had started.

This sick and twisted love story, you looked at the back of Ada’s head and the full moon one last time. As much as you wanted to protect your loved ones, Ada meant too much for you to let go. You just wanted to be with her, whether it was genuine or not. You feel like you can sort it out later.

Several years passed and so far, Claire hasn’t heard a peep about any wolf sightings or murders. It was gut wrenching to tell Chris, your family and friends that you were gone. It left them shaken to their core, others tried to brave through life without you. Others were stagnant and were unable to really move on. To the townspeople it was a relief that left them with paranoia and trauma. However Claire, was slowly giving up on finding you. Your words echoed in her mind.

Soon she heads out to check her mailbox. As she sifts through the junk mail, bills and others. Her eyes widen as she reached her home again. A letter with a poppy and daisy held together by a red wax seal. She turns it around, it had no return address and it was for her from, you. Her breathe hitched as she closes the door and sits down at her kitchen table. She opens the letter, it was general update and to let Claire know you’re still alive and are being treated well.

This fuels her further to push harder to find you, to give you the truth and to finally free you from your shackles.

You sat at the table as you looked outside the window as Ada cooks your food. You hoped the letter reaches Claire and to put her search for you to a halt. “Hey, are you okay..?” Ada’s voice lifts you out of your thoughts, your eyes looked towards hers. “Yeah I was thinking about something…”

“Go on, you can tell me anything…” Ada sighs and turns off the stove and places the food on two plates. “I just don’t want to be found is all.” You didn’t want her to see your real colors. You wanted to keep your promise both the ones you Ada’s and Claire’s.

“I see, but just next time don’t send another letter. Before you ask, I’ve always known. I could smell the faint smell of melted wax from a mile away. You’ve always were a terrible liar, but don’t worry. I’ll have you be my good girl in no time…” Ada grabs your face with one hand, pulling you towards her face. Her fangs glint in the sunlight as her claws sink slightly into your cheeks. “Now do you understand..?”

“Yes dear…”

#my writing #fairytale retelling #fairytale au #ada wong #re4 ada #ada wong x reader #ada wong x you #ada wong x y/n #resident evil 4 x reader #re4 x reader #ada x reader

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massivedrickhead · 6 months ago

Text

Bechloe Week Day 2: “You’re up early”

Words: 1694

Notes: Trigger warning: an eating disorder is alluded to.

Read on AO3

“Hey,” Beca said, entering the kitchen that morning, her hands pulling her hair into a ponytail. “You’re up early.”

“Hmm?” Chloe said, blinking as she looked up from her phone. “Oh, yeah, I guess I am.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “What are you doing up? I thought you were off today?”

“I was, but they want me to go in and meet a potential new artist for the label,” Beca said, turning on the coffee maker. “Which apparently can only be done at the ass-crack of dawn.”

Chloe nodded but offered no more conversation, which was extremely unlike her. The coffee maker beeped, Beca poured some into her thermos and then poured a mug for Chloe.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Beca asked, setting the mug down in front of her.

Chloe opened her mouth to say yes but then closed it. “It’s nothing,” she said, after a few more seconds of silence. “Just family stuff.”

Beca’s shoulders slumped. “Your Mom again?”

“It isn’t important,” Chloe said. “You’re going to be late.”

Beca pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and looked down at her watch. “We’ll talk later?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, trying her best to give Beca a reassuring smile.

Beca kissed Chloe goodbye and grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter.

“I shouldn’t be too late,” Beca said. “I’ll see if I can score an early finish since I had to go in at this time. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Chloe replied, wishing she could take hold of Beca’s hand and stop her from leaving. Wishing she could pull her close and cling to her. But she knew Beca would stay if she asked her to, and she couldn’t do that to her career. Not when they were finally starting to take her seriously as a producer.

At the sound of the door closing, Chloe let her shoulders slump. She twisted the engagement ring around her finger and picked up her phone again.

Chloe scrolled up through the barrage of texts she’d received from her Mom since 3 am.

Some of them seemed perfectly normal - a text about a friend of a friend who was a wedding photographer who might be available for their chosen date, or an update on how her uncle was doing after his knee surgery, or pictures of her cousin’s new puppy - but then every so often there would be a jellyfish sting amongst the calm water. A new diet she’d heard about, because Chloe would need to fit into her wedding dress. A photo of her neighbour’s newly single son who apparently had a thing for redheads. A lamentation about not having any grandkids yet, and how now it was unlikely that she’d ever get one.

Her relationship with her Mom had always been difficult, and she’d done bouts of little to no contact before, but when Beca had proposed last week, Chloe had decided to extend an olive branch.

It was something she was regretting now.

Her phone buzzed with a new message.

Mom: Well? Aren’t you going to reply?

Chloe: I’ve only just woken up, give me a chance to read through them.

Mom: It’s 10 am! Why are you only just getting up now?!

Chloe: It’s 7 am in L.A., and it’s my day off. You’ve been texting me since 3, I had to put my phone on silent.

Chloe decided a lie was better than the truth in this situation. She didn’t want her Mom to know that she’d crept out of bed at 3 in the morning and had sat at the kitchen island, her stomach full of dread and anxiety, as she’d watched each message come in.

Mom: What if it had been an emergency?!

Chloe: I assumed you’d have called if it was. Me being too fat for my wedding dress doesn’t really seem like it needs an urgent response.

Mom: You’re too sensitive! I’m only telling you that because I’m worried about your health. If no one else is going to be honest with you about this, then I’ll have to be the bad guy. I usually am anyway as far as you’re concerned.

Chloe sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache beginning to push at the backs of her eyes.

Chloe: I’m not fighting with you about this. We’ve had this conversation a million times, please just keep the comments about my body to yourself.

Mom: I don’t know why you have to take everything so personally. Anyway, did you see my text about Alice’s puppy?

Chloe: Yeah, it’s super cute. I need to head out so I’ll talk to you later.

Chloe locked her phone and closed her eyes, wishing more than anything that she could just have a normal relationship with her Mom.

Her phone continued to buzz, and Chloe switched it to silent. She was exhausted both physically and mentally, and she didn’t think she could read another text from her Mom without snapping and uninviting her from the wedding.

She made her way back to bed, crawled under the blankets, and fell asleep in seconds.

It was close to 2 pm when Beca made it home. She was pleased with how the meeting had gone and was even happier about being able to get home before 5. Being home in time for dinner felt like a rare occurrence these days, and Beca was excited to spend the rest of the day with her fiance.

She frowned when she walked into their home and saw that Chloe wasn’t in the kitchen or lounge like she’d expected her to be. Her coffee mug from that morning was still on the counter, and it was still as full as it was when Beca poured it.

“Chlo’?” She called out, wondering if she’d gone out for the day.

She went to their bedroom so she could shower and change into some sweats, and she saw Chloe curled up in bed.

Beca sat on the edge of the bed and gently put the back of her hand against Chloe’s forehead.

Chloe didn’t seem to have a temperature, but Beca assumed she must be sick. It was the only reason she could think of for Chloe being asleep in the middle of the day since she never napped.

Not wanting to wake her, Beca stood up from the bed and went for a shower.

Chloe was just beginning to stir when Beca was pulling on her sweats, her hair still damp.

“Hey,” Beca said, her voice quiet.

“Hi,” Chloe mumbled back, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand. “Time is it?”

“Two-ish,” Beca said. “Are you okay?”

Chloe nodded and settled back against the pillows again. “I didn’t mean to sleep for that long.”

Beca climbed onto the bed beside her, and Chloe turned to cuddle into her side.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Beca asked, her arm wrapping around Chloe. “You aren’t sick or anything?”

“Not sick,” Chloe said, stifling a yawn. “Just tired.”

Beca pressed a kiss against the top of her head.

“How was the meeting?” Chloe asked.

“Pretty good,” Beca said. “The kid was really talented, I think he has a good shot at being signed. How was your day?”

Chloe shrugged as best as she could, and Beca knew that something was definitely wrong.

“You gonna tell me what had you up so early this morning?”

Chloe sighed. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and opened up her text thread with her Mom. She scrolled back up to where it had started that morning, and she handed the phone to Beca.

She could feel Beca’s anger increase with each message she read. She could feel the tension in her arms, the way her breathing changed, could see the scowl on her face becoming more and more pronounced.

“I know,” Chloe said when Beca handed the phone back. “You don’t need to say it, I already know.”

“Okay,” Beca said, trying to soften herself. Trying to shift the anger out of her bones to a place where Chloe couldn’t feel or see it anymore. “I won’t say anything. Just… You know she’s wrong, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Chloe said. “And I’m gonna tell her that if she wants to come to the wedding - if she wants to be in my life at all - then she needs to change.”

Beca stayed silent. It was a conversation Chloe had had with her Mom before, and the outcome was always the same. Tears, pleading, and promises to do better, but it never lasted, and Beca was tired of seeing Chloe get hurt by the one person who was supposed to love her unconditionally.

“I know you think she’s already had enough chances,” she said.

“I do,” Beca agreed.

“But she’s my Mom,” Chloe said. “I want at least one parent at our wedding.”

“I know,” Beca said. “And I know it’s not my place, I just…” Beca trailed off. “I want you to be happy, and she doesn’t make you happy. She’s… You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are now, and I’m terrified that, I don’t know, like, one afternoon dress shopping with her will have you spiralling again.”

“That won’t happen,” Chloe said. “I’m not a kid anymore. I know that everything she says comes from a place of jealousy and insecurity, and it actually has nothing to do with me.”

Beca wasn’t convinced, but she nodded anyway. “I’m sorry that your Mom can’t see you for the amazing, incredible, beautiful person you are,” she said.

“I love you,” Chloe said. “Thank you for asking me to marry you, even with all my Mom issues.”

“I love you too,” Beca replied. “You’ve got Mommy issues, and I’ve got Daddy issues. I’d say we make a pretty great pair.”

Chloe laughed and felt some of the tension in her shoulders loosen.

“She gets one more chance,” Beca said. “Right?”

“Right,” Chloe agreed.

They lay together in silence for a little while longer before Chloe spoke up again.

“Bec?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we get pizza for dinner?”

Beca smiled and squeezed Chloe tighter. “Absolutely we can.”

#bechloe week 2024 #bechloe week #bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #pitch perfect fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfic #pitch perfect #fanfiction #fanfic #beca mitchell #chloe beale #beca #chloe #no matter the timeline

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starfall-spirit · 19 days ago

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Read on Ao3 // Chapter I

Summary: Elain doesn't need a pack bond to be satisfied as an omega. She's perfectly content being mated to Azriel alone and their solo bond had never been a problem. That is until Elain's heat cycle arrives ahead of schedule and her alpha is half way around the world with no way home.

Luckily for them, their very good friend and roommate, Lucien, is willing to step in until Azriel can get home to help her.

AN: I was hoping this would be longer and better quality, but I’ve been a little stuck. Sorry guys. Anywhoville, hope you still enjoy it! 💕

Chapter II

Lucien

”How's she doing?"

Lucien smiled, putting his phone on speaker so he could continue working on breakfast. It had been two days since Elain's heat had kicked in unexpectedly and he wasn't afraid to admit he was enjoying every moment of it. "She's fine, Az. Still sleeping at the moment. I'm just working on breakfast."

"She's been eating enough?"

"Not nearly, but that's going to stop today. She'll be fine, Az. What are we looking at when it comes to flights?"

Lucien heard his friend sigh on the other side of the line. "If all goes to plan I'll be home tomorrow night."

He nodded. "She'll be excited. You want to talk to her?"

"Not if she's resting. She'll need it to get through the next wave of her heat, I'm sure. I need to start getting ready anyways."

"Right. Good luck, man."

"Make sure she eats someth—" Lucien had already ended the call, rolling his eyes.

"He doesn't think you're incompetent. He just worries.”

Lucien turned, waving Elain into the kitchen space, unable to resist sweeping his gaze down the bare skin her skimpy robe failed to cover. She was still flushed, pupils dilated. Another glance and she leaned into the counter, her slick-damp thighs pressed tightly together. “How are you feeling, little one?” he asked out of courtesy.

”A little tired. Achy again. I’m okay.”

She pressed in close, her blush creeping down her chest even as she nuzzled into his scent gland. “Careful, sweetheart. Stove’s hot. Everything’s almost ready. Once you’ve eaten we’ll see if we can help that ache again.”

”Breakfast later,” she pouted, one hand slipping under his shirt. He ground his teeth, trying to think of anything but fucking her into her newly repaired nest as she nibbled over the spot she’d previously had her nose buried in.

Taking a deep breath, he eased her off of his chest, nearly flinching at the wounded look it put in those soft brown eyes. “You need to eat, Elain. I’m not letting you go hungry through your heat.”

“I’m not hungry,” she huffed. “I don’t need food, I need you to knot me.”

His lips twitched. Brat. And how quickly her tune had changed on that front. One sharp look had her biting her tongue, shuffling over to the table when he gave her rear a soft swat. “If you want me to knot you anytime soon,” he began, plating breakfast for them both, “you’ll eat.”

She frowned again, eyeing the plate he set in front of her even as her stomach growled. “Eat, little dove.”

“Yes, Alpha,” she mocked, cutting into a sausage link.

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word, simply watching to make sure she kept eating. The poor thing was squirming in her seat by the time she cleaned her plate. “Good girl.”

”Lucien, please.” Pushing back his chair, he curled a finger in summons. Elain hurried over, perching on his lap and tucking back into his neck. “Please.”

”Such lovely manners, little one. They might just make up for all that backtalk a moment ago.” She huffed against his collar and he reached around to squeeze her hip in reprimand. “Hm, petulant, aren’t you? Tell me,” he purred. “Does Azriel let you get away with talking to him like that? Or would he put you over his knee for trying to make eating such a low priority?”

She whimpered, going stiff in his lap even as he watched her drop one shaky hand between her legs. “Ah, ah.”

“Lucien.”

He turned her in his lap. Leaning back into his chest, she was small enough to fit her head beneath his chin, riling the sort of protective instinct he couldn’t afford to entertain. He rolled his neck, trying to steady himself with the scent of her heat back in full force. Ignore the slick already soaking through her thin robe and onto his sweats. “Perhaps, sweet girl,” he murmured, “we can keep your secret this once. See what we can do to fix our problem here.”

”Wait, I-”

“Elain.” She shivered, neck bared to him the moment his teeth grazed her earlobe. “Spread your legs.”

~~~~~

Azriel

The scent of her heat hit him the moment he stepped into the apartment. He knew Lucien had been taking care of her, of course. But it didn’t change the fact he was concerned about the situation as her mate. He was just shrugging out of his hoodie when he heard a muffled moan from the bedroom he shared with Elain.

He couldn’t help but smirk at that, dropping the rest of his things in a heap before aiming to join them. “Having fun, I see.”

Elain was a panting mess, eyes glazed over, her nest half ruined beneath her. As for Lucien…

Just as he’d told Elain, a pack bond had always appealed to him. Who better to complete it than their friend and roommate?

”We are,” Lucien growled, not bothering to withdraw the two fingers buried to the knuckle.

”Az,” Elain whimpered.

”How you doing, angel?” He kicked off his shoes, sinking into the nest and hunching over her to stroke her tangled hair back.

“Want you,” she begged.

”Me?” he asked, lips grazing her brow. “Or both of us?” Lucien went still, starting to pull back from where he was braced over her, hand drenched in slick by then. “Don’t,” Az told him. “Keep going.” He needed an honest answer, inhibitions down. Devious as it sounded, she was more likely to be honest about her feelings when she was riding out her heat than trying to clear her head enough to find an answer that sounded polished and loyal.

”B-both,” she squeaked. “Both of you.” Her hips jolted when Lucien twisted his wrist so he was able to stimulate her clit with his thumb. A broken, desperate sound left her before she called for Az again. He leaned down to kiss her, his hand wrapping around her throat. “Please,” she whined against his mouth.

“Sweet, needy omega,” he purred. Elain swallowed hard beneath his palm. “All wound up again.”

“Been like this from the start,” Lucien told him. “Insatiable.”

He clicked his tongue, loosening his grip and letting himself map the freckled skin exposed to them both. “Poor little thing. Just need kept full, is that it? I think that can be fixed easily enough. Can’t it, Lucien?”

Smirking slightly, Lucien withdrew his hand, muffling Elain’s soft pleading by pushing those two fingers down over her tongue. Always one to please, she suckled there as long as he let her, licking his fingers clean. “Good girl,” he praised. Keeping one braced by her head, he lined up against her, easing in slow and steady. “Good girl.”

There was nothing Az wanted more than to be inside his mate right then, but this would be the nail in the coffin. Elain needed to see there was truly room for all of them here.

So he watched. Waited. Sat back, pleased to see Lucien was confident in his handling of their omega, even with ties unestablished. She detonated, trembling from head to toe as Lucien worked her through the aftershocks. Sniffled when Az told him to take her again. To fill her up how she needed.

Az stepped out of the nest just long enough to strip his clothes before coming to the top of the bed and bending down to kiss her, fingers rubbing soothing circles wherever he could to ease her distress. She was already overstimulated.

“Easy,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead before starting to tease her breasts. “You’re doing so well, angel.”

He slid his fingers through hers, pressing down on her belly. “Oh, God.”

“How does it feel,” he asked, “to have Lucien fuck you while I hold you in my arms?” Lucien smirked, dipping his head to graze his teeth across her scent gland, right beneath the place Az had already marked her.

There was an unspoken agreement that everything would need to be further negotiated when Elain was in a clear state of mind. Planting the roots now was as far as they could go without breaking her trust. Marking was too big a step to address with her head so clouded, considering all that had changed in the past few days.

Soft little pants met his ears and he didn’t bother trying to hide his groan of pleasure—nor the raw need coursing through him the moment he watched Lucien knot his mate. She cried out, scrabbling to secure a grip on something solid. “That’s my girl,” Az praised the next time she came down, Lucien easing out of her with a deep groan of his own. “That’s it. My sweet little mate. Back with me?” he asked when her breathing had leveled again.

Elain nodded, her sweat-slick brow flush against his chest. “Missed you,” she mumbled.

“I know, angel. I hated being away, even knowing you were in such good hands.” She withdrew, chewing at her lip. The moment of truth, then. “Elain?”

She dropped her eyes, a dark blush that had nothing to do with her heat staining her pale face. “I’ve… enjoyed it.” He coughed sharply, unwilling to laugh when Elain still felt so vulnerable in her confession. “I just felt I should at least be honest—”

“Elain, angel, you haven’t done anything wrong. You were given a solution to the problem you found yourself in.” He could feel Lucien staring him down with every word, but Elain deserved his full attention when it came to this. “You’re allowed to change your mind, you know. I won’t push anything you’re against. Neither will Lucien. But I won’t let you see any shame in it either.”

“This would be okay, then?”

He smiled. “It would be perfect.”

~~~~~

Elain

“I told you.”

Elain smiled, sharing a glance with her brother in-law who was already shaking his head at Feyre’s smug tone. There were many ways Feyre had grown up before Elain and Nesta, but at the end of the day she wasn’t entirely free of the common allegations against youngest siblings.

“I’m not discussing it, Feyre,” she said, bending to check the twin loaves she was baking for the five of them to share that evening.

“I’m sure what you’re after is the last thing your mate cares to hear about at the moment.”

Rhys smirked again, but was smart enough to pretend his focus was entirely on feeding his son and not the antics Feyre had started. “Elain,” her sister said, the lack of teasing in her tone making Elain pause. “You’re happier for it, aren’t you? It isn’t just about Az bringing up pack bonds?”

Elain smiled once more, resting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all I want and more.”

~~~~~

Taglist: @corcracrow // @goddess-aelin // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiyawhitethorn // @vulpes-fennec // @headcanonheadcase // @aldbooks // @panicatthenightcourt // @jennity-blogs // @thelovelymadone // @temperedink // @ninthcircleofprythian

#acotar #Elucien #elucien fic #eluzriel #elriel #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #mine for a moment #elriel fic #Eluzriel fic

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m-jelly · 13 days ago

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Late night snack - Chapter 11

Vampire Levi x human reader

Your last stream before getting married is an emotional one for you. Your wedding day arrives, but it takes a dramatic turn. You do everything you can do to survive your new situation.

Ao3

Ending

You tapped away on your computer and smiled when your stream was set up. “Hello, everyone. This is a bit of a special stream because I will be a married woman the next one after this one.” You giggled as everyone sent you love. “Thank you. I’m excited, too. Also, I have an announcement to make.” You turned in your chair. “I need Levi for this.”

You got up and forgot you were wearing booty shorts and high fluffy socks, so a few pictures were taken by stalkers and the one person who had kidnapped you. It was an innocent act by you, but sometimes you were unaware of how people saw you. You weren’t even fully aware of how Levi saw you.

You opened your office door to see Levi right by your door sitting on the floor with his laptop for work. “Oh, look a little kitty.”

Levi looked up at you. “Bunny!” He put his laptop down, shot to his feet and hugged you tightly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Now, how about you come with me so we can talk to my chat? We’re gonna tell them about the baby.”

He picked you up and carried you into the other room as you giggled. “Hello, everyone.” He sat with you on his lap. “We have news.” He squeezed you. “We’re expecting!”

You hugged Levi. “We’re going to have a cute little one.”

Levi smiled as your fans celebrated. “So, it’ll either be a cute bunny or a grumpy black kitty like me.”

You giggled. “They’ll be adorable.”

He tapped his forehead against yours. “They’ll be loved.”

“Yes.”

“I love you so much.” He kissed your cheek. “So, as my lovely cute bunny would have said, we’ll be gone for a couple of weeks for our wedding and our honeymoon. When we return we’ll be here to do a lot of streams with you.”

You nodded. “He’s right, we’ll do a lot with you and do some long streams. We’ll figure things out when the baby arrives.” You giggled. “I’m thinking a friend might have to take over for me.”

Levi kissed the side of your head. “Sounds good.”

You clasped your hands together. “Okay, I should get back to gaming.”

“I have some work to do, so I can’t join you this time.”

You shifted off him. “That’s okay. I’ll see you later.” You hummed a laugh. “You look like a puppy that’s been told no.”

He lowered his head. “Well, I know I have to work but I want to be with you.”

“You could always sit at your desk in here?”

He gasped in delight. “Really? You okay with that?”

You hummed a laugh. “Of course. I’m always okay with you being with me.” You giggled as he ran back and forth to get his things and then settle at his desk. “Sorted?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

You turned to your computer. “So cute.” You opened your mini fridge and got out a drink and a snack. “Okay, let’s see what we have today for you all. I think we’ll have a nice chill stream for today, so we’ll play a bit more of the card shop sim we have. I think we’re close to unlocking more things to sell at the shop.”

You started up the relaxing game and put on some chill lofi beats. You hummed along to the songs because it was a playlist you almost always used, which meant your fans always associated the game with those songs. So, a lot of them told you that when they played the game and the music wasn’t the soundtrack, it threw them off a little. It was the same for you, you couldn’t play the game without the music anymore.

You covered your mouth and yawned a little. “Sorry everyone, I’m more tired these days.” You shifted in your seat and looked over to see some messages. “What’s going on?” You frowned as you read it. “Oh, so when I got up you lot took loads of pictures of my bum? I’m not surprised.” You smirked as Levi growled. “Levi’s not happy though.” You looked over at him to see he was looking over. “It’s okay, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He huffed. “But you’re wearing your booty shorts. Your bum looks delicious in them.”

“Why, thank you.”

He tapped on his computer and saw a few things being said about you. He growled and contacted the other mods and worked with them to purge everything nasty, along with a few people talking about the fang marks he’d left on your thighs. He was enraged that people were talking about you in such a way. One innocent moment had led to people acting like animals.

You glanced at your chat at the wrong time and saw someone comment on your thick thighs. “That’s a bit rude. Not every woman has skinny legs you know, some have thick legs like me meant for kicking ass and wrapping around a sexy vampire’s head and squeezing tightly.”

Levi coughed a little. “Bunny!”

You smirked. “What? You like it when I crush your head with my thighs.”

“I do, but be careful what you say you might get a strike.”

You groaned. “You’re right. Anyway, if you don’t like my thighs or my body, I honestly couldn’t give two shits. I wasn’t made for you. I am me and I have someone who loves me very much for who I am, so why do I need some random stranger man to fancy me? I don’t. You coming here to troll me about it means you have something about yourself you’re not happy with. Instead of trying to attack others, why don’t you reflect on yourself, acknowledge what issue you have with you and work on it? Also, sob off if you don’t like me.”

Levi walked over and kissed the side of your head. “You are so amazing.”

You looked up at him. “I only need you to love me and like me.”

Levi looked at the camera. “Anyone who hurts or upsets my precious bunny, I will hunt you down and have a little word with you, one-on-one.” His voice lowered at the end as his eyes darkened. “Do you understand? Levi Ackerman and Erwin Smith protect this little bunny.”

You pocked his cheek making his dark look disappear. “Levi?”

He looked down at you. “Mm?”

“Kiss?”

He leaned down and kissed you. “Enjoy your card shop game, okay? Be sure to show me all the plushies you’ve unlocked at the shop.”

You gasped in delight. “I will!”

“The cute cards too.”

You squeaked in delight. “Promise!” You turned to your viewers. “You lot, my sweet woodland creatures and bunnies are the absolute fucking best. I truly love you all so much. I know there are millions of you, but you’re all so incredible. I can’t believe I started with just a handful and we’re here now. I plan on meeting as many of you as possible by going to conventions in different countries. Plus, you all know me, I keep everything at a low price. I don’t like charging you lot anything I feel bad.” You sighed and then huffed when a lot of donations came through, including big amounts and a subscription chain. “Unbelievable you lot.” You smiled sweetly as you read the messages. “You’re gonna make me cry.” You rubbed your tears.

Levi walked back over and started reading the donations out loud for you. He held you against him as you cried against his stomach. He smiled as he kept reading. “So sweet and lots of donations for the baby. Thank you, all of you. You’re so kind to her.” He looked down at you. “Bunny is a bit emotional right now due to your kindness.”

You sniffed. “They’re just all so nice!”

He hummed a laugh. “I know, I know.”

“I don’t deserve them.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He crouched down and turned your mic off so people could hear the two of you. He turned your chair so they couldn’t see you both either as he crouched and spoke. “Look at me, my love.”

You locked eyes with Levi. “I’m an emotional ball these days.”

He chuckled as he wiped your tears. “It’s okay. Look, you deserve so many good things. These people are your fans for a reason, okay? They love you for you. They like spending time with you. They are thanking you in the only way they know how which is donations. I know it’s hard to accept the money, but this is your job and they want to send you the money.” He held your hands and showered them with kisses. “I love you.”

“I love you so much.”

He leaned up and kissed you. “You okay now?”

You nodded and released a long sigh. “I’m okay now.”

“Good girl.” He turned you back around and tapped your mic on. “She’s okay now.”

You grinned. “I’m back.”

Levi ruffled your hair. “I’m over there if you need me.”

“Thanks again, Levi.”

“Anytime.”

You shuffled in your seat. “Okay! Where was I?”

You wiggled in your wedding dress and sighed. “It’s gotten a bit tight.”

Henri helped you adjust. “Well, you are pregnant.”

“I know…” You pouted. “Baby…”

He chuckled and admired you. “You look beautiful. You really do.”

You turned to Henri. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He welled up and hugged you. “So very beautiful.” He released you and looked over at Theodore. “Your shoes.”

You hurried over. “Thank you.”

Theodore knelt and smiled up at you. “You look incredible.”

“Thank you.”

He slipped on your shoes before standing and taking you in. “Like a goddess.”

Henri chuckled. “Right?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thank you. I better get ready and marry that handsome man out there.”

Henri put his arm around you. “Your maid of honour is ready!”

You giggled as you walked with him. “You were born ready for this, huh?”

“Oui.” He led you out and saw Levi was looking nervous as he waited for you. “Someone looks a little scared.”

You hummed a laugh. “He probably thinks I’ll run.”

Levi flinched when the music started. He turned around and looked over at you at Henri’s side. A strong blush consumed his cheeks as he admired the beauty that was you. He left his spot next to Erwin and approached you. He felt like there was a magnet inside you and he was being pulled to you. He raced over and wrapped his loving arms around you as he softly sighed. He was happy to have you back with him.

Levi tapped his forehead against yours. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

“You’re more beautiful.” You touched his cravat. “Look at you, like a dark deadly vampire prince.”

“Only for you.” He guided you to the front. He held you close as you went through the ceremony. You exchanged rings made of each other’s blood and drank from the bonding chalice before letting Levi bite your wedding finger. “Mine.”

“All yours.”

He pulled you along as everyone cheered to a private room full of flowers. “So, this is where I would turn you.”

You caressed his cheek. “Mm.”

He held your baby bump. “But someone beat me to it.”

You giggled. “Technically you are changing me. I wouldn’t be like this if it weren’t for your sperm.”

He hummed. “True.” He pushed your top lip up a bit. “Your fangs are coming in a bit.” He smirked. “They’re adorable.”

You grinned. “Means I can bite you, right?”

“You can.”

You opened your mouth and chomped on his neck making him moan. You gulped down some of his blood and pulled back. “Yummy husband.”

Levi crashed his lips against your blood-soaked ones. He kissed along your lips, jawline and your neck before sinking his teeth in and sucking. He moaned in delight. “You’re always so delicious to me.” He held you close and started slow dancing. “You are so perfect and all mine.”

“Forever and always, my darling Levi.”

He smiled at you. “I’m a lucky man.”

“I’m lucky to have found you.”

He hummed. “You do know, I was an obsessed fan of you, right?”

You played with the undercut of his hair. “I know. You were the perfect fan.”

He pulled you close and paused when your small bump touched him. “Oh, hello baby.”

“They say hello too.”

He chuckled as he held your hips. “I can’t wait to meet them.” He turned his head and kissed you. “We should head back.”

You nodded. “I’m really hungry. Also, I need the toilet.”

“Well, you head to the toilet and I’ll get our food ready.”

You kissed him. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” You walked away from Levi in the opposite direction. You lifted your dress and went to the bathroom. You left the place and fixed your dress. “Alright, food time.” You gasped when you felt something sharp in your neck. “Not…again.” Your eyes rolled back as everything went black.

It was dark for a long time, but your senses started to wake up. The first thing you felt was a muffled voice calling for you and a cool breeze. A feathery touch made your skin tingle a bit. Your eyes opened, but they were heavy and you felt so tired. Your vision was blurred at first but then Henri’s face came into focus, but everything around him was blurred. Your heart started breaking at seeing him.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks. “You?”

Henri sighed. “Thank goodness you’re okay.” He looked around panicked, then back down at you allowing you to see blood on him. “I have to get you somewhere safe.”

“You…did…this?”

He shook his head. “No, I saw you being taken away by some weakling vampires. I had no choice by to kill them. They wouldn’t let you go. Problem is, more turned up and chased me away from the wedding. I need to circle back, but I’m low on blood.” He looked down at you. “I’ll protect you, I swear.” He looked up. “Shit.”

You blacked out again and felt like your body was drifting in black sludge. You tried everything to reach out to Levi and your connection to him, but there was only something very tiny. Your connection was shut off again, but it seemed your baby was linked to him. You tried your best to reach out to your husband because you didn’t want Henri to die.

You gasped as your eyes flew open to see the tree canopy above and the bright stars. You turned your head to see a terrified Henri trying to stay calm. You felt the cold air rushing by meaning Henri was running for dear life with you. “Henri?”

He looked down at you as he panted. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay.” He skidded to a stop and looked ahead. “You!” He held you against him so you couldn’t see. “You fucking traitor! You’re insane! Stop this now, she’s married and having his baby!” He backed up. “She is not yours!” He shifted you and started running again. “I won’t let you have her.”

You squeaked as Henri dropped you and flew forward. You slammed against the floor and shifted a bit to see Henri smack against a tree and land on the floor. “Henri.”

He crawled slowly towards you. “I won’t…let him…have you!” He reached for your hand. “I’ve got you.” He gasped and looked at you in pure terror before he was dragged away shouting your name. “NO!”

You welled up and sobbed. “Henri.” You cried out when you were picked up. “Don’t…hurt…him. Henri!” You panted. “Henri!” Everything started to go black again. “Henri…”

You sat up quickly and screamed. You were no longer outside but inside a grand room on a bed. You looked around to see it was like an old gothic home. A weight on your ankle drew your attention allowing you to see a cuff and chain linked to a point on the centre of the room. The lit fireplace crackled and added the only sound to the quiet room. The weight of the situation made you sick.

“You’re awake.” A cheerful voice called. “Good, I’m glad.”

You looked over at the voice and felt enraged and heartbroken. “Theodore. What did you do to Henri?”

“He’s alive. I wouldn’t kill someone who means so much to you.” He walked closer with a tray. “I have him locked up here.” He placed the tray down. “I brought you food.”

You looked down at it. “I smell blood.”

“Well, it’s all infused with my blood. I have your blood in me and I want you to have mine in you.”

You shoved the tray to the floor causing everything to spill and smash. “I want Henri and Levi.”

He reached for you. “I care about you. I’m the only one who can care for you.”

You slapped him hard. “How could you do this to your friends!”

He lightly touched his cheek. “You’ll starve if you don’t feed. You need food for you and the baby.”

“I need my husband. I need my best friend and you need to stop this.”

He smiled at you. “I’ll get you better food.”

“I don’t need food, I need to go home!”

He slipped off the bed and walked towards the door. “I’ll send my maid in to clean the mess.”

“Theodore!” You winced a bit as you felt some pain inside you. “Shit…” you rubbed your belly. “Sorry, I should think of you, but I don’t want his blood in me.” You looked over at the double doors for the windows and hurried over, but before you could open them the chain yanked your ankle. “Fuck, ow!”

The maid slipped into the room and started cleaning up. “Miss?” Her voice was soft and quiet. “Miss? I can get you normal food.”

You sat up and hugged yourself. “How do I know if I can trust you?”

“Theodore forced me to become a vampire so I could work here. He wants little dolls to work for him. I’ll do anything, and the others, to get away and be free.”

“Thank you. I’m so hungry.”

She moved closer to you. “I’ll make sure I’ll get you something to eat. I’ll be right back. Please, rest.”

You let her guide you back to bed and lay there thinking about Levi. You rubbed your baby bump and thought about him. You sat up when the maid returned. “Thank you.”

She placed it on the bed. “No blood from him in this.”

You sniffed it all and sighed. “Thank you so much.” You shovelled the food in and sighed. “Perfect.”

She handed you a glass of blood. “This is from his reserves.”

You sniffed it and it didn’t smell of Theodore. “Again, thank you. You’re a blessing.” You chugged the blood and sighed. “Baby is happy.”

She held your hand. “Stay safe.”

“You too.”

She cleaned up everything. “I’ll get you more food, but I have to make sure he’s not around when I do, okay?”

You nodded. “I understand.” You flopped onto your side in bed. “I’m tired.”

“Please rest. I’ll ask Theodore to not disturb you.”

You closed your eyes. “Thank you.” You softly slept and tuned into your baby and their link to Levi. You did everything you could to get the connection to Levi working. You then felt it, the link and Levi being aware of exactly where you were. You got up from bed, dragged yourself to the bathroom and vomited up blood. “Fuck, I pushed it too far.” You panted a bit and moved to the bathroom door and locked it, thankfully the chain fitted under the door.

You’d been at Theodore’s for days and you’d locked yourself in the bathroom. You’d moved bedding and other things in there too just so you could be comfortable. Theodore tried everything to get you to come out, but you refused. The only time you opened the door was for the maid who was kind to you.

You woke up with a start when there was a loud bang against the door. You crawled back and screamed when you saw an axe through the door, Theodore had enough waiting around for you. “Stop!” You hugged yourself and moved away from the door. “Stop it!”

Theodore threw the axe, tore the door apart and grabbed your chain allowing him to pull you two him. “There you are. I was so worried about you.” He smiled at you. “You must have accidentally locked yourself in here.” He picked you up and turned to his butlers and maids. “Move her bedding back where it belongs.” He looked down at you. “Let’s get you somewhere comfortable.”

As soon as he sat you on the sofa you shoved him off you. “I wanna see Henri.”

He stared at you for a bit. “I’m not sure about that…”

“Please?”

He released a long sigh. “Okay.” He walked over to the end of the chain and removed the connection part with a tool. He clipped the end of the chain to him and smiled. “Let’s go.”

You hugged yourself as you shuffled along and walked down the halls into the cellar to see a locked door. “You locked him up?”

He pulled some keys from his pocket and looked for the right one. “For safety reasons.” He opened the door. “He’s in here.”

You rushed inside to see Henri was chained up by his wrists, just like you had been in that cabin home, but he had needles of silver in him causing him to bleed and struggle to heal. “Oh…Henri…”

Henri lifted his weak head and smiled with blood-soaked teeth. “Oh, petit lapin don’t give me that look. Tell me I’m handsome. I must look dashing to you.”

You welled up and laughed a bit through your tears. “You’re the most handsome of men.”

“There we go. Much better.”

You caressed his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He winced. “I should be sorry. I failed at saving you.”

You hugged him tightly. “Henri.”

“Oh, come now petit lapin, you’ll get blood all over your dress.”

You sniffed. “I don’t care.” You ran your hands down his chest and sniffed. “We’ll get out of here and we’ll go for afternoon tea together. I want you to be the uncle and godfather to my baby.”

He welled up. “Merde, petit lapin. I’d be honoured.”

Theodore yanked your chain causing you to slip and fall, but he caught you in time. “That’s enough.”

You thrashed a little in his arms. “Let me go! Henri!”

Henri yanked on his chains and began shouting and swearing so much in French that you couldn’t keep up. He spat blood on the floor. “I will fucking kill you.”

Theodore glared at Henri. “You tried and failed at that.”

You snarled as your fangs grew a little more. You slammed your elbow into Theodore’s face causing him to release you. You used your speed, but you weren’t used to using it making you stumble a little. You grabbed your chain, wrapped it around his neck and yanked hard. You snapped his neck then kicked his shin causing the bone to snap in half. You stole his keys before shoving him out of the room and locking yourself in the cell.

You panted as Theodore rolled around on the floor as he slowly healed. “Fuck, my vampire power came in a bit. I guess I have the baby to thank for that.” You wretched a little. “Ugh.”

Henri called your name. “That was dangerous. You’re delicate right now.”

You stumbled over to him. “I know, but I had to save you.”

He shook his head as he smiled. “You are incredible.”

You fiddled with the keys and tried a few on the chains until you had the right one. “Got it!”

Henri dropped to his side and grunted. “Thanks.”

“Sorry!”

“It’s okay.” He rolled onto his back. “You shaved me.”

You knelt at his side. “Let me take this silver out of you.”

He hissed in pain. “Fuck those things.”

You hummed a laugh. “You’re lucky silver doesn’t hurt me yet.”

“I guess I am.”

You pulled at one but it kept on coming. “Oh, oh Henri. My poor pink prince.”

He chuckled a little. “A new title, I like it. Uncle, godfather and now a prince.”

You dragged the last out the needle out and tossed it. “You deserve the title after everything you’ve done for me.” You helped him sit up. “I wish I had blood for you.”

He winced a bit as he held his side. “That’s okay. I’ll heal.” He wiped the blood on his body a bit. “See? All better.”

You poked his pec. “Didn’t know you were muscular.”

“Thinking of marrying me instead?”

You snorted a laugh. “Sure, we’ll run off to France and live by the sea.”

He smirked. “Sounds like a dream.”

“Maybe we can go for a holiday.”

He tapped his forehead against your shoulder. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

You played with his hair as Theodore banged against the door and started shouting. “Levi will find us.”

“I believe it.” He lifted his head. “Did you connect with him? I thought Theodore used the blocker on you again.”

You smiled as you placed your hand on your belly. “I was cut off from Levi, but our baby wasn’t. It was small, but we managed it together.”

“Did you sense Levi connect?”

You nodded. “I did. I felt him and I felt him see me.” You lay back on the floor and shuffled. “Let me try again.”

Henri shifted and placed your head on his lap. “Be careful, okay? It can make you sick.”

“I know, it did before but I’ve got to do this.” You closed your eyes and started breathing slowly. “Levi.” You relaxed and felt your baby and the connection they had to Levi. You listened to the link as best as you could and connected to your husband. You gasped when you felt him see where you were. “I got him.”

Henri wiped the blood from your nose. “Cut the connection, you’re bleeding.”

You clenched your teeth. “Not yet. Ah, he’s close to here.” You cut the connection and gasped. “Shit.”

Henri held your hand. “You did good.”

You opened your eyes and panted. “He’s here. I think he’s been here for a bit. Maybe he’s planning things.”

“He’s probably making sure you’re safe before he raids the place. Plus, not all the workers here are bad.”

You hummed. “A lot of them are trapped here. Theodore has been collecting them.”

“What a mess.”

You pushed yourself up and felt a rush of sickness. “Ugh, shit.” You put your head in your hands and breathed for a moment. “Okay, I’m a bit better.”

Henri held your hand. “So, I guess we just have to wait.”

You leaned against Henri. “Yes.”

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slicznymartwy · 1 year ago

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and all at once i knew

part i (request)

read it all on ao3

billy lenz x gn!reader - billy watches you kill. he could have hurt you but he doesn't because he loves you. warning: includes minor character death(s), brief suicide/self harm mention, obsessive behavior

Billy’s a stray. He’s a kicked dog. He’s going to bite and hump anything that moves. He’s been abandoned at the park, or maybe he just ran away and forgot how to get home. But you own him now. He caught your scent, and he loves you. He’s your good doggy and he’s so terrible he should be put down for what he’s done.

He’s so loyal to you. You’re so nice to him. You rub his scalp and give him food and water. You don’t beat him. You only make him feel so so so good. He loves you so much. He could bite you. He has, but you forgive him. He loves you. He doesn’t mean it when he draws blood. He’s so lonely and cold, and you let him sleep at the foot of your bed.

You plan in the dark. Sometimes, you face each other; other times, you hold him from behind, arms wrapped around his waist. You hold hands and let your legs touch under the covers. You fix his hair when it gets messy, and he brushes an eyelash off your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“We’ll do it one by one, while they’re asleep,” you tell him one night, tracing the line of his nose. His eyes are closed, relishing in your touch.

“Tie them up so they can’t fight. Stupid sluts,” he whispers a week later. He entwines your fingers together, staring at them. You think he likes seeing how close he can get to you. He watches how your body wraps around his with reverence and worship.

“We could set the house on fire. They’ll never know it was us,” you giggle, laying on top of him. His hands are on your hips, and his touch is so warm that it makes you want to take your sweater off.

“I’ll cut off their heads if they talk to you again. I’ll saw them off and kick them like footballs,” he says darkly, drying your tears with his palm. He’s so angry you think he might kill them right then.

When Susan left, no one thought to ask you where she went. They knew how she treated you. They all watched her mock you, and they laughed along like it didn’t make them complicit. They cried and wrung their hands while the police questioned them, and you tell Billy about it at night.

“Tonight,” he hisses, holding you down on the bed. He pins your wrists down against the mattress and he sits on top of you. Sometimes, you realize what he is. Rabid, feral, untamed. He can be mollified with fresh food and pets along his back, but he’s wild, even when he manages to speak clearly. “I’m going to kill them tonight. They’re all going to die.”

“Wait, please. One more day,” you say, trying not to look afraid. “Just hold me. Please.”

He does, but you wonder if you let him go too far. You gave him too much lead, and now you won’t get him to heel again.

Like Billy entering your bedroom in the dead of night, some changes happen so quietly you don’t realize what’s happened until it’s too late. You wake up one ordinary day, and your sisters are nice.

Maybe you’re just easier to be around, with how happy Billy makes you. Maybe they felt guilty and wanted to make amends. Maybe Susan had your sisters under an evil spell that made them act like complete cunts to you and, by killing her, you freed your housemates from her mind control.

They laugh with you, they invite you to eat lunch with them. They still get teary eyed when they think about your missing sister, but they don’t say anything when you don’t cry. They know, and they’re sorry, and it feels good to hold that over them.

“Billy,” you murmur at night. He moans low and quiet at the back of his throat, and the sound vibrates against your chest. You brush you hand through his hair gently. “I don’t think we should hurt them anymore.”

Billy doesn’t respond. He’s so still, you wonder if he’s asleep.

“They’re not so mean anymore. It’s better now,” you explain. “I think they’re sorry.”

Still, Billy doesn’t respond. You pick your head up to look at him, but he’s already staring at you. His eyes are hauntingly empty of emotion. You try to smile, as placating as you can.

“I’m sorry, Billy,” you whisper.

He turns his face towards your chest, pressing his nose against your bare sternum. He groans, but it sounds like a growl.

“So stupid,” he mutters, sounding far away. “Stupid Bambi. Stupid slut.”

“That’s not nice,” you whisper quietly. You can feel his lips against the swell of your breast, and he kisses you like a lover.

“Stupid. Can’t see what Billy sees. Stupid disgusting lying whores,” he says against your chest.

“I’m not stupid,” you defend yourself meekly. “Stop being mean.”

“Billy can help. Billy will help his Bambi,” he promises.

“I don’t want your help anymore, Billy,” you say, pushing at him. He doesn’t budge.

“Need Billy. Bambi needs Billy,” he mutters. You wonder if he’s even listening to you, if he’s ever listened at all.

“No, I don’t,” you say, trying instead to stand up. Billy effortlessly keeps you down. “Stop it.”

“Stop it,” he says, matching your tone. “Stop it, Billy.”

You sob out of frustration, trying to squirm out of his hold. He doesn’t let you go.

“I hate you,” you say, looking into his dark eyes. “I wish I didn’t know you.”

Billy freezes at your words. The room falls quiet. He stares at you like you’re food.

“Something’s wrong with you,” you say, voice shaking.

“I love you,” he finally manages to whisper.

“Leave me alone. I don’t need you,” you say, turning your face from him. You can still feel his eyes on you, they burn through you like the sun through a magnifying glass.

When you don’t say anything else, Billy stands. He stares at you from the side of the bed, and you pull your sheets up to hide your bare chest. It feels strange, hiding from someone that you’ve already shown everything.

Billy leaves without shutting your door.

The next night, you lock it. You can hear him on the other side, twisting the knob. He rattles the door, wanting it open. Your pillow is so wet you have to turn it over to go to sleep. Your bed is so cold without him.

In the morning, the house is quiet. No one’s in the kitchen. There’s no line for the bathroom. No sounds are coming from any bedroom. There’s nobody in the house. You find some eventually, a pile of five girls in the bathtub. The tile is wet with their dark blood, so are their pajamas. You scream when you see them. Clare is on top, staring at you accusingly.

Sobbing, you fall onto your ass and kick your legs to get away. You feel like a kid again, throwing a tantrum when faced with consequences. You did this, you tell yourself, you asked for this.

When he appears by your side, you hug him without a second thought. He cradles you in his arms on the bathroom floor and he lets you weep.

“I love you,” he whispers against the crown of your head. “I love you. I love you.”

You sob. You keep your eyes screwed shut. You can’t look at them, laying like logs for a fire. You fist your hand in Billy’s sweater, remembering what it was like to hold the knife for Susan.

“Billy won’t leave Bambi,” he promises. It feels like a death sentence and a wedding. You’re the only two living souls in the house, and maybe the entire world. You love him because of it, but you wish you didn't.

“I need to clean before it stains,” you say, sniffling as you pull away from his chest. There’s so much blood. You wonder if there’s more in their beds, but you don’t want to know. Maybe it’ll be easier to burn it all to the ground with you and him still inside.

You find the bucket and gloves under the sink and turn on the faucet. Through the mirror, you see Billy rise and walk towards the tub. The water burns your hand and fogs the glass until you can’t see him anymore.

a/n: reblogs and replies are really appreciated

#billy lenz #black christmas (1974)#billy lenz x reader #slasher x reader #billy lenz x gn!reader #billy lenz x y/n #billy lenz x you #₊*. ⋆༘ — uli writes

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evergreenstringbean · 14 days ago

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Summary: In 2038, a so-called "freak accident" claimed the life of Ponyboy Curtis. Two weeks later, "Ponyboy" listens to Darry and Soda talk about what to do with him.

Detroit: Become Human AU in which Bob drowns Ponyboy in the fountain and is replaced with an android.

Read on AO3 here

Ponyboy didn’t want to eavesdrop. He was aware that people thought it was rude, but he couldn’t seem to prevent himself from silently leaving the bedroom when he heard voices coming from the kitchen. After doing a quick scan of his surroundings, he froze along the wall just outside the entrance to the kitchen as the voice of Darrel echoed in the otherwise quiet room. He listened close, but wasn’t entirely sure why.

“We’d get a lot out of it, Soda. With it being a prototype or whatever, I’m sure there’s collectors out there who’d offer a good amount. We could catch up on bills, and actually have something in savings for once!”

He heard Sodapop sigh. “We can’t sell him, Darry! We can’t just abandon him like that.”

“What did I tell you?” Darrel asked, voice tight with frustration. “I told you not to get attached to it, and look what you did.”

“He’s our brother! I’m sorry I can’t just turn that off!”

“That thing is not our brother!” Darrel snapped loudly. “It’s plastic and metal! If you want our brother, go to the cemetery where that Soc left him!”

There was a long silence in which Ponyboy considered walking in, but the sound of Soda’s crying cut through the air just before he took his first step. He didn't want to intrude. The eavesdropping was rude enough.

He heard Darrel sigh. “Soda…” There was another long pause, and Ponyboy could infer that the oldest was comforting the younger as his sobs grew louder. “Hey, c’mon…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“I m-miss him,” Sodapop cried softly, voice clearly thick with his tears. “A-And he looks l-like him…s-sounds like h-him…”

“But it’s not him, Soda,” Darrel replied, his tone more gentle now. “That Sheldon kid’s dad thinks that giving us an android replacement would just make everything right, but even Cyberlife can’t change the fact that that kid took our little brother from us…he’s gone, Soda…and getting attached to that tin can ain’t gonna change that. No matter what it looks or sounds like…it ain’t Ponyboy.”

Ponyboy blinked. Looking down at his hand, he watched as he retracted the skin on his arm to show the blinding white plastic of his real body. After looking at it for a while, the sight of an unfamiliar notification popped up on his HUD:

S̒̃ͫof̟t̳̲͟wạr̶͓̊eͤ Ins̹̓t͆a͗ͣ́biͤli̪t͙̤̃y

He ran a quick diagnostic to check for issues, only to see no alerts from the results. He considered informing Darrel and Sodapop of his discovery, and that he’d possibly need to go to the nearest Cyberlife facility for a complete diagnostic to find the problem. However, Darrel was already considering getting rid of him, selling him to the highest bidder. If he knew there might be an issue with him, then he’d for sure be gone. And while Ponyboy had no real stakes in that, he’d grown a fondness for them in the short week he’d been there.

Sodapop was kind and told him stories about the boy he shared a likeness with. He’d sit with him on the couch with a photo album and tell him everything about the snapshots on the pages. And while Darrel was cold and distant with him at best and downright hostile to him at worst, Ponyboy knew the man saw the benefit in having him around to lighten the load of the housework.

“…We’ll keep it around,” Darrel said defeatedly after a while. “But just for a while longer. The second one of it’s parts get faulty, I’m putting it on eBay.”

He heard Sodapop sniffle. “Really, Dar? eBay? Like it’s 2008?” he asked with a watery laugh. “Don’t stop there. Put him on Craigslist too.”

Ponyboy experienced a strange sensation. Part of him was glad the tension had dissolved, but something about joking about putting him up for sale on the internet made him finally stop eavesdropping and return to the bedroom.

While androids didn’t need to sleep, Sodapop had requested he share the same room as him when he went into stasis. Something about how the real Ponyboy used to share a bed with him and he’d gotten too used to it. Ponyboy acquiesced, hellbent on completing his purpose to make life easier for the Curtis brothers.

Ponyboy was determined to win Darrel over, despite the task seeming impossible. If nothing else, he could prove useful and stay enough in his good graces to remain there. He couldn’t replace the brother they lost, and he knew Darrel didn’t want him to, but he would rather be an asset to the household than a burden, or worse, sold off to some collector who wouldn’t understand the reason behind his imperfect appearance. Someone who didn’t understand his entire creation was a futile apology from a father whose son had done the unthinkable to a poor, innocent boy. Someone who didn’t understand his model was a trial in grief processing androids.

Laying in the bed, Ponyboy was suddenly struck with a flash of something, so fast he almost didn’t catch it even with his quick processing:

“C’mon, let’s walk to the park and back. Maybe I’ll be cooled off enough to go home," he heard his voice say. The air was cold and he shivered, holding his arms as he walked alongside a boy who worriedly asked him if he was about to freeze to death. But something else was more intense than the chill. The feeling of stinging on his cheek, and the unfamiliar sensation of fear and the pain of betrayal.

S̒̃ͫof̟t̳̲͟wạr̶͓̊eͤ Ins̹̓t͆a͗ͣ́biͤli̪t͙̤̃y

#the outsiders fic #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #ponydroid au #detroit become human #darry curtis #the outsiders musical #the outsiders movie #the outsiders 1983

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scribeofwinchesters · 11 months ago

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Secrets and Lies: Chapter 10 - Not Up For Discussion

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3,236

Summary: With the shifter dead, you and Dean head to Sam's last known location to find him… but will it be too late?

Previous chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Sevenandahalf Eight Nine

A/N: I know it's been awhile. Hopefully you read my recent personal update. If no ones out there anymore to read this, that's okay, I get it. Gonna keep going though <3 Link to Ao3 if you prefer

Tag list: @lauraashley93 @stoneyggirl2 @tiggytaylor

You and Dean climbed out of the Impala and hurried to the split doors of the garage. Each of you took one, and together, pushed them shut. You jogged back to the car as Dean pulled the keys from his pocket and locked it before turning to catch up with you.

As you waited for Dean, in the rearview mirror something caught your eye. Sam’s old ‘70 Dodge Challenger that he’d taken to driving as a backup when Dean needed to keep Baby.

“Dean,” you said nervously as he approached his open door. Your eyes stayed trained on the reflection of the car. Dean’s gaze followed yours until it fell upon what you'd already seen... the car.

He hesitated for the slightest second.

“Stay here,” he said. He turned and hustled over to the car.

You watched through the mirror as Dean opened the door and the overhead lamp filled the interior of the car with a faint glow. He rummaged through the car's interior before popping the trunk open. You studied what you could of his expression and movements, lit only by the moonlight and the amber haze of the interior, hoping it would pre-warn you as to what might be in the car, in case you needed to brace yourself for…

You shook your head, not willing to let your thoughts travel down that road yet.

Dean shut the trunk and hurried back to the Impala.

He climbed in, pulled his door shut, and gunned it. He didn’t let up as the Impala’s tires briefly spun out, spraying gravel in its wake.

"Found this," he said as he pulled a matchbook out of his jacket pocket. "That's in the town Sam was in, where he was working that case. It's just an hour's drive away… we’ll make it in thirty. Call that place, The Lost Creek Inn, see if he checked in under any of his aliases.”

You nodded silently as you began flipping the matchbook over with one hand and dialed the motel's number that was printed on its label.

Twenty minutes later you had managed to charm the kid at the desk into telling you which room Sam had checked into. He'd also tried ringing Sam’s room twice with no answer. You knew it had been a long shot but you were still disappointed.

You continued fiddling silently with the matchbook and stared blankly at the road ahead.

Dean had one of his old tapes playing quietly while you’d been on the phone but now that you were done it was just awkwardly quiet.

“Y/n-” Dean started before you cut him off.

“Dean, don’t,” you said as you shook your head carefully, flipping the matchbook between your fingers.

Dean watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t ask me… if I’m okay, or whatever. I don’t want to think about it. And if you ask me that… if I have to think about it, then I won’t be. And all I want to do right now is find Sam and until I put my eyes on him, on the real Sam, then nothing else matters.”

Dean gave you a single nod and faced back toward the dark road. You reached over and turned the volume knob so that the music filled your mind and blocked everything else out. Two more songs played through as the two of you sat silently, your emotions drowned out by the thrumming guitar of Jimmy Page and the crashing cymbals and beating drum of John Bonham.

Dean glanced at you. You were dialing Sam’s number again. It rang five times and you tapped the red button, ending the call before you could hear Sam’s voice telling you to leave a message, exactly as you had done each previous time. You looked back up at the road, your jaw set as you stared blankly ahead, occasionally reminding yourself to take deep breaths, occasionally reminding yourself to breathe at all. You hadn’t passed a single car the entire way, thankfully, so Dean was able to keep the Impala at a steady one hundred, and then some, miles per hour.

He shifted in his seat and you watched him out of the corner of your eye as he placed his arm across the seat, half-way to you, palm up. It could have easily been perceived as just an awkward stretch but you knew what he was trying to do. He may not be able to comfort you or himself with words, mostly because he couldn’t find them, but he could make sure you knew you weren’t alone. Without looking you dropped the matchbook from your left hand, reached across, and placed your hand in his. He quickly enveloped it in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

The action caused you to briefly remember the words of the shifter. Were Dean’s feelings for you entirely platonic? You shut your eyes and shook your head minutely. The thought was so completely ridiculous to you that you couldn’t even entertain it for a single second. Not even when you’d first heard it back in your room was there a single doubt that the shifter was lying to further torment you. If you googled ‘big brother’ in a perfect world, the first 10 search results would all be Dean Winchester. He embodied everything a big brother should be. He comforted you through the worst, he saved you from purgatory, and he could always make you laugh. Dean was your best friend. And you were his.

You knew you were close when Dean turned the radio’s volume down to a whisper. It was a small town and the last thing you needed was to get the wrong attention from the cops or locals.

You pulled into the motel parking lot where Dean parked haphazardly and followed closely behind him as he kicked in the door to Sam’s room. He motioned for you to stay at the entrance. He cleared the entire place, gun drawn, and jerked his head upward to let you know it was clear. You shut the door behind you as you both began searching the room for clues.

Dean went to the closet and pushed the shirts hanging there aside to find a map with various red, sharpie’d x’s and question marks beside three outlying addresses. It was an old road map so it was impossible to tell what you’d find there. Dean yanked on the map, ripping it at the corners where it had been pinned.

“Come on,” he said.

Once in the car, it was you who placed your palm out for Dean to grasp. He did so as he maneuvered the car out of the parking lot with one hand.

The Impala bounced as he pulled across the sharp incline of the driveway and Dean grunted out his mild annoyance.

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t try to convince me to stay back at the bunker,” you said.

Dean glanced over at you briefly and as he looked away you were certain he winced. His body seemed to shiver and you wondered what he was thinking. Maybe it was your appearance; seeing your cuts and scrapes. You tried not to think about it. He inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry to tell you this but you’ll be lucky if I let you out of my sight ever again. New Winchester family rule. You must be with either me or Sam at all times. I’ll get two twin beds, hell, bunk beds for all I care, in my room, if that’s what it takes,” he said. You expected him to chuckle, or smile at you, to let you know he was joking.

But he didn’t.

He was dead serious.

“Besides that… that thing fucked with the warding and until I can get Cass in there we need to be on red alert.”

“I mean… he had all of Sam’s memories. Maybe there was a spell or something Sam knew that helped him,” you suggested.

“Maybe…,” Dean said as he pulled the Impala in front of the building that had been the closest of the three red question marks. It was a small, abandoned store at the eastern end of Main St. Its sign hanging out front was replaced with a sun-bleached ‘For Sale’ sign. There was another huge ‘For Sale’ sign hung in the display front window. It had long ago slipped down to one side. Spiderwebs and dust coated every inch of what you could see through the window as well as the awning over the storefront. You and Dean both climbed out and glanced around for onlookers before heading to the window and peeking in. Dean tried the front door. It had not been opened in quite some time. You followed him around back. He shook the handle of the back door which was padlocked. He crouched down and you could see around him that it was old and rusted.

“No one’s been here in ages,” he commented.

You followed him back to the Impala and as you climbed in you grabbed the paper map from the dashboard and opened the maps app on your phone to cross-reference the other two question marks, hoping one might jump out to you as being the best place to look next.

The first one you looked up was a gas station that looked as though it hadn’t been in business for about half a century. You looked at the linked pictures. It was completely dilapidated and covered in graffiti. It was overgrown by tall weeds and encroaching trees. You could hardly see the building from the road anymore. The second was just a blank square on your digital map. No indication of what it was or used to be and no one had shared any images of it. If something about it stood out to Sam as he drove past it then it must have been his gut and Sam’s gut was rarely wrong. You couldn’t imagine it was the gas station. It looked like a smoking spot for high schoolers. Not secluded or private enough for a monster hiding in a small town.

You handed the map to Dean and pointed to the mysterious question mark as he put the Impala in drive and slid away from the curb.

“You sure?” he asked.

You nodded. “Has to be.”

It didn’t take long to get there. It was tucked away behind several municipal buildings just off Main St. You pulled past the Post Office and Dean turned right. You could see further down the street there were small houses that looked like they’d been built in the post-world-war baby boom of the late forties. They were tucked away behind a row of tall white oaks that had been planted and grown there alongside the lives of the people that lived here over the last seventy years. Behind the post office was a row of Elm trees along either side of a small, broken, and worn driveway. Dean turned off the headlights and slowly pulled the Impala down the drive, between the trees.

Another ten yards past the row of trees was a small brick building, with no windows and one heavy, steel door. It, too, looked like something built in years long gone. Nondescript, the kind of thing most people drive past and occasionally think, “I wonder what that is,” and then half a second later forget all about it. The entire area was squared in by unnatural rows of trees, separating it from the private property to the left and the post office to the right. It was completely hidden. Behind it towered a large phone tower and immediately you knew what it was.

“What is this?” Dean wondered aloud.

“An old telephone switchboard building. I think they still use them but now it’s all automated. I’m sure this place only gets visitors when something goes wrong or for routine walks.”

“Why’s it so hidden?”

“Well, probably because they don’t want to check on it more than they need to, so they don’t want it to stand out to randos driving past or teenage delinquents. Also, I’m genuinely just guessing, but probably because of the Cold War.”

“Ruskies. Right,” Dean nodded. Despite having not expounded, that conclusion made absolute sense to him.

“You and Sam really do belong together. I don’t know a single person other than Sam who would have known any of that,” he said, giving you a gentle smile.

He’d been doing that, reminding you gently that you and Sam belonged together. As if telegraphing it would comfort you somehow.

You suddenly realized how hollow you felt inside. It was as though a single marble was bouncing around inside of you, pinging off the metallic edges of you. It collided into nothing because there was nothing there: no heart, no lungs, no muscles or veins, no thoughts or wants or needs. There couldn’t be because until you found Sam, you weren’t a whole person. You had cut yourself off from everything else and you existed, now, only to find him.

Dean pulled the Impala off the driveway to avoid the off-chance of being seen from the road and cut the engine. You had already reached over the back seat and pulled your handgun packed with silver bullets and two knives from your duffle. The silver one you hooked over the back of your jeans with its holster and the other you tucked down into your boot.

You opened your door and as you climbed out Dean grabbed you your upper arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said in a hushed tone, his face twisted with confusion. “We don’t know that there’s not a second shifter,” he said, seemingly surprised at how easily you were about to jump in without talking it over first.

You sat back down and stared over at him. “It’s not very likely.”

“Oh, it’s not likely. Then by all means, just run into the weird, dark building with no windows where there’s god-knows-what inside,” he said, throwing his hands in the air as he whisper-yelled.

You sighed. You knew he was mostly right. “Okay, then how are we doing this?” you asked. “I go right, you go left, reconvene in the back, and go from there?”

“Mmm, no,” he said in mock consideration. “I think it’ll be best if you stick with me and then we’ll go in together,” he said as he checked over his bullets and shoved the clip inside the weapon with a click as it snapped into place.

“Dean, we can’t leave any entry poin-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before saying, “Nope. Not a discussion. Let’s go.” He climbed out of the car and you followed suit, rolling your eyes as you went. You each shut your doors as quietly as you could and Dean jogged out in front of you as you fell in line behind him.

He approached the front door and lightly tugged at the handle. It had zero give. For good measure, Dean pushed it and got the same result. Turning away from the door, he held his gun out in front of him while you pointed yours to the ground. He headed toward the left and it took everything in you to not disobey him to save time by splitting the work and heading right but after everything else, you were not ready to make an argument with Dean the cherry on top of this shit sundae.

Dean approached each corner of the building with confident ease and carefully spied around the corner before rounding it and guiding you to stay close behind. You periodically checked your back to be safe. It wasn’t an altogether out-of-the-ordinary position for you to be the tail but most often on hunts, you were sandwiched between them, the tall brothers towering over you even when they were hunching to make themselves less visible. It didn’t help you flex your hunter muscles but it did make you feel incredibly safe. And of course, Dean and Sam had many years more of experience on you so it was no use to argue with them.

After clearing the outside you made your way to the back door. It had seen more use than the front door and you imagined that was because of the lower odds of being seen. It was a small building and you imagined it didn’t even contain any rooms so if there was someone in it, they’d hear you the moment you opened the door.

Dean tried the handle which was, of course, locked. He pulled his lockpick kit from his back pocket and knelt down as he got to work cracking the lock.

Standing with your back directly to Dean, you scanned the small field behind you and beyond the fencing, to the horizon. You could never get over how legitimately flat Kansas was. Everywhere, every part of it… just… so flat; just ground and horizon for miles. The proverbial opposite of the mountains and boulders of Colorado where you’d grown up. The two places could not have been more different.

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears and you did everything in your power to focus on your breathing so that you could listen out for any movement in the grass or trees or buildings surrounding you. You tried not to imagine Sam lying dead beside a pile of shed shifter goo. But it was the only place your imagination seemed currently capable of going to.

“The horizon, the stars, the trees swaying in the wind, the moon,” you thought as you scanned the area slowly, from left to right, and listened. To your disbelief, it seemed to work. Other than the wind all you could hear was the scraping of Dean’s tools inside the lock. “The horizon, the stars, the trees swaying in the wind, the moon.”

Finally, after several agonizing moments, there was a soft click. Dean quickly put his tools away and tucked them back into his pocket as he stood up. He pulled his gun from the back of his jeans and released the safety.

“You pull the door and I’ll clear the entry, then fall in line behind me. Stay close,” he whispered as he looked back at you over his shoulder. You nodded blankly at him. This wasn’t your first rodeo. “Close, do you hear me? I better be able to hear you fucking breathe,” he said sternly.

“I’m not an idiot, Dean,” you replied in a hushed tone.

“I know you’re n-... I’m just telling you to be careful,” he said in an angry whisper. “Could ya maybe tone down the sass? It’s kinda the last thing I need right now.”

“I could say the same thing,” you thought. But Dean was right. As much as it annoyed you when Dean became overprotective, or condescending, you knew you were wasting precious minutes to save Sam.

He stood at an angle, away from the door. You put your gun into the waistband of your jeans and gripped the handle of the door with both hands. It was an older, steel door so you knew there was a good chance it was going to drag along the door jamb and you’d have to yank it to get it fully open.

You locked eyes with Dean and he mouthed the words, “Three, two, one.”

EDIT: Chapter 11

#supernatural #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fan fiction #reader insert #sam winchester #spn #spnfamily #dean winchester #spn fanfic #samwinchester #spnfanfic #scribeofwinchesters

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jadepalaceyaya · 1 year ago

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Red Lanterns and New Year Dinner

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC x Ominis Gaunt

Rating: E

Summary: Sebastian and Ominis has been looking for their elusive third member of their trio all day. It's starting to feel like a never ending game of hide-and-seek. Hopeful their answers can be found behind the mysterious door, beneath the red lanterns.

A/N: Thank you again to the amazing @lovelysallow for being my muse and inspiration. You can also find this one shot on AO3 Here

“Jade? I saw her earlier talking to Professor Howin.”

Sebastian raked a hand through chestnut curls in frustration. Both he and Ominis had been trying to track down their friend since the morning.

Being the more perceptive one of their trio, Ominis had been the one to detect a change in Jade’s behavior at the beginning of the month. At first, Sebastian brushed it off. She was entitled to bad days just as anyone else. But as days passed Ominis’ worry seemed justified. The Slytherin boys didn’t want to pressure Jade, so they gave her space. Hoping that she will open up to them first. But she never did. Instead she seemed to become more and more withdrawn.

They had hoped to catch their companion after her Care of Magical Beasts class, but Jade must have given them the slip. Instead they found the petite Hufflepuff.

“Thanks, Poppy,” Sebastian sighed, a little put out with the failure of locating Jade.

Was she avoiding them? Had he done anything to upset her? Even if he did, he was sure Ominis would have called him out on it and made him apologize. The fact that Ominis hadn’t lectured him means that it couldn’t have been his fault. Right?

“You wouldn’t happen to notice if she was acting…strange, did you?” Ominis’ voice brought Sebastian out of his thoughts.

Poppy hummed, lips pursed in thought, “Now that you mention it’s. She does seem more distracted than usual.”

It wasn’t just them that noticed something was off with their friend then.

“Do you know what she was talking to Professor Howin about?” Sebastian asked, hoping for any information of what could be bothering their friend.

“I’m sorry, they seemed to have spoken in Jade’s native tongue so I couldn’t catch what they were discussing,” Poppy looked at Sebastian apologetically, “but I did notice that Professor Howin did hand Jade a red letter.”

“A red letter?” Ominis’ voice tightened with worry, “a howler?”

“I don’t believe so,” Poppy shook her head, “Jade actually seemed to have brightened up when she received it. The whole interaction seemed quite strange.”

“We’ll ask her about it later…if only we could find her,” the annoyance was clear in Sebastian’s voice as he huffed a breath through his nose. “Do you happen to know where our friend headed?”

Poppy shook her head, “I stayed to help with the kneazles but I did see her head to the castle with Garreth. He might know where she is.”

Both the boys tensed as Sebastian clicked his tongue and Ominis’ brows furrowed. Poppy took in the change of their body language with a knowing look. The corner of her lips quirked a small smile.

“Thank you for your help,” Ominis said cordially.

“Of course! Anything to help bring Jade’s spirit up,” Poppy’s smile softened, “she’s usually so lively. It’s disheartening to see her so down.”

Bidding the Hufflepuff girl goodbye, Sebastian and Ominis ventured back to the castle. Hoping to find either their missing companion or the red headed Gryffindor that might help in locating her.

—

Luckily, or unluckily, it was the Gryffindor boy they encountered first outside the Great Hall. “How may I help you, gentlemen?” Garreth asked as the boys made their way to him.

“Where’s Jade, Weasley?” Sebastian all but demanded.

“Whoa Sallow! What’s with the animosity?” Both of Garreth’s hand raised in surrender as he took a step back from more intimidating of one of the duo. Putting space between him and the charging Slytherin. Garreth may have been the same height as Sebastian, but Sebastian had a wider frame and he was ill prepared for a confrontation today.

Ominis places his hand onto Sebastian’s shoulder. Both as a restrain and a warning to keep his temper in check. Sebastian turns to glance at him before huffing and turns to lean against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Did you walk Jade back to the castle?” Ominis asked calmly, though the tight grip he had on his wand showed otherwise.

Garreth nodded but replied after a moment, remembering that Ominis needed a verbal confirmation. “Yeah, I waited for her to finish her talk with Professor Howin. She said she wanted to join me when I had told her I was going to get a quick snack from the kitchens.”

The crease between Ominis’ brows deepened as he processed Garreth’s response. “She’s in the kitchens then?”

“Last I saw of her.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Sebastian’s ire began to grow. Even the thought of Jade spending time with Weasley, while she avoided them, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Why would I lie about that?” Garreth exclaimed incredulously. Before pausing to take a slow calming breath. These Slytherins are going to be the death of him. “Look Sallow. I walked her to the kitchens and thought she was also going to nab a quick snack like I was. I offered to walk her back to your Common Room but she declined. Said that she needed to chat with one of the house elves.”

“You better be right, Weasley,” Sebastian growled, glaring daggers at Garreth.

As the boys began to leave to continue their search, Garreth called out, “Gaunt!” Catching Ominis’ attention.

He slowed his steps and tilted his head toward the Gryffindor boy, indicating his attention, but said nothing.

“I’d keep that dog of yours on a leash, never know if he’ll bite the wrong hand next time.”

Turning quickly with a snarl, Sebastian tried to storm over but was stopped by Ominis’ hand pushing against his chest.

“I’d advise you to watch that mouth of yours. Lest, someday, someone silences you for good.” Ominis warned with a frosty tone, his unseeing gaze even colder. The hand he held against Sebastian’s chest reached and gripped his upper arm. Dragging Sebastian along, allowing the locating charm of his wand to lead their way.

Garreth watched as the duo continued their search with a shake of his head. “Jade really has her hands full with those two,” he mumbled to himself as he let out an amused snort.

—

The kitchens proved fruitless in their search. Sebastian was so close to yelling and pulling his hair from his ire.

“Argh, are you kidding me?” he growled through gritted teeth, “it’s like a bloody game of hide and seek but we’re not any closer to finding her!”

“Oh! Mister Sallow, Mister Gaunt!” A small voice called out, “how can Deek be of service?”

Ominis stilled at the unfamiliar voice, his tone hard with wariness, “How do you know our names?”

“Miss Jade speaks of you both quite often,” Deek replied with a bright smile.

“You know where she is then? Is she here?” Sebastian asked earnestly but his hopeful mood immediately sagged when the house elf shook his head.

“Unfortunately not, Mr. Sallow,” A sound of defeat escaped Sebastian upon hearing Deek’s response, “Deek is afraid she left quite a bit ago.”

Another agitated sigh came from Sebastian as Ominis stood in silence. At this point it really felt like their friend was avoiding them and it was starting to feel discouraging. Noticing their moods, Deek offered a sympathetic smile.

“Fret not, I’m sure you’ll find Miss Jade soon and she’ll be happy to see you both.”

“Do you know where we’ll be able to find her then?” Ominis’ questioned in a small voice.

“Miss Jade can often be found near the Troll Tapestry in the Astronomy Tower. I’m sure Mister Sallow and Mister Gaunt can find her there.” Deek nodded resolutely.

Giving their thanks to the house elf, which both surprised him but also brought a smile to his face, the two boys departed again in their search.

—

“Are you kidding me!” Sebastian exclaimed as he threw his hands up in irritation. They came to the Astronomy Wing as suggested only to find an empty hallway. “Deek must have played us a fool! We’ve scoured the castle top to bottom and still no sign of her.”

He began to pace the hall, needing a physical exertion as a way to vent his agitation. Ominis wasn’t too happy with their situation either and he understood how Sebastian was currently feeling, but there must have been a plausible explanation.

“What if Jade isn’t even in the castle and this has all been for naught?” Sebastian continued to rant.

“Calm yourself, Sebastian. I’m sure if she left school grounds for the highlands we would have heard whispers of it,” Ominis tried to reason, though even at this point he was feeling doubtful.

At Sebastian crossing the hall for the third time with his pacing, Ominis’ ear pricked as he heard an unfamiliar sound.

“What was that?” His head snapped to the direction of noise. It sounded like the rumble of shifting stone and wood. “Sebastian! Stop your incessant pacing!”

Turning to retort, Sebastian stopped at the sound as well. Gaping in awe at what seemed to appear from thin air before his eyes. The stone of the wall morphing, deepening as it made way for a large door to form.

“What is happening?” Ominis demanded again as something was interfering with his location spell, something with an immense amount of magic.

Sebastian tried to respond, mouth opening and closing but no sound came out, before he was finally able to gasp out, “Was there a door here earlier, Ominis?”

“Of course not, what kind of question is that?” It was now Ominis that was becoming irritated.

“Well, there’s a door now.”

Ominis paused, the crease between his brows deepening in thought. Thinking back to what Deek had told them before in the kitchens. The pieces of the puzzle clicked together in his mind.

A look of realization washed over his features as he turned his head toward Sebastian’s direction, “Deek did say that Jade could be found in this corridor. You don’t suppose?”

“Only one way to find out.” Sebastian said with renewed vigor. Feeling as if they just got closer to locating their missing friend.

Even if they didn’t find her, just the prospect of finding something undiscovered and new was enough to raise his spirits. Sebastian pushed the door open and entered, Ominis following right behind him. A noise of admiration came from Sebastian while Ominis was speechless. Red pulses from the tip of his wand letting him know how large the room was. Ornate decor covered the walls and shelves of books reached from floor to ceiling. Both the boys were so awestruck that, for a moment, they forgot their task at hand. A delicate tune drew them out of their reverie.

Deciding not to startle the room’s occupant, lest it not be their companion, the boys decided to follow the music. As they turned a corner into an adjacent room. It was there where that finally located the elusive member of their trio.

There sat Jade, an unfamiliar instrument sat on the round table before her. Her fingers plucking at its strings. Floating around her were a couple red lanterns which bathed the room in an atmospheric red glow. Jade, herself, was also wearing an Eastern red robe.

“Ahem,” Sebastian cleared his throat to catch her attention.

With a gasp, the music stopped, as Jade abruptly turned around at the unexpected intrusion. Her hand raised to press against her chest. Eyes wide and mouth opened with shock.

“Turning Gryffindor on us, are we?” Sebastian announced as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe that led into the room.

“Sebastian? Ominis? What–,” her voice pitched in shock and confusion, eyes darting between the two boys, “how did you get in here?”

“You’ve been avoiding us, little viper,” Ominis said in a disapproving tone as he walked into the room, “neither note nor notice. We’ve been trying to find you for quite some time.”

Properly chastised, Jade grimaced and ducked her head in shame. Her hands lowered to her lap as she twisted the material of her sleeves between her fingers. Teeth gnawing at the corner of her lips as her eyes averted to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Omi,” Jade’s voice soft with remorse, “I didn’t mean to.”

Ominis made his way until he stopped in front of Jade. The hand that wasn’t holding his wand raised to gently cup her cheek in his palm. With a tilt of his head he questioned quietly, “Have we done something to upset you?”

Jade’s own hand goes to press against his, tilting her head up to gaze at him as she leaned into his touch. “I promise that neither you nor Sebastian are cause for my mood.”

Ominis’ gaze softens at her words. Then a playful smirk lifts the corner of his lips. He sat down next to her, leaned in closer to Jade’s ear, and whispered loudly enough for Sebastian to hear.

“...Are you absolutely sure it’s not Sebastian? He’s the cause for my moods and I don’t have the misfortune of actually having to see his face like you do,” he teased as his eyes darted to where Sebastian was standing.

“Hey! I resent that!” Sebastian shouted without any actual anger in his voice. Pushing himself off the door frame, he struts into the room before dramatically plopping himself onto one of the stools at the table across from Jade.

“No, Omi. I guarantee that Sebastian isn’t the cause.” She snorted before turning her head to Sebastian with a mischievous look, “this time.”

“Now you’re just picking on me,” Sebastian playfully pouts, propping his chin in his hand.

“I jest.” Jade chuckled as she stood to put her instrument away.

Sebastian looked around to marvel at the room around them. “Well, what is this place? You’ve holed yourself in your own secret room without telling us. Even after we showed the Undercroft.”

“You mean, you showed her the Undercroft.” Ominis said flatly with a click of his tongue.

“It’s the Room of Requirement,” replied Jade, turning back to them after making sure her instrument was safely stowed away, “Professor Weasley showed it to me to help me catch up with my studies. It apparently changes and transforms itself to fit my needs.”

“And do your needs happen to explain why it looks like you’re changing from the noble house of Slytherin? If only you could see this, Ominis. Red everywhere! It looks like something straight out of the Gryffindor Common Room!” Sebastian’s gaze turned back to Jade. His eyes roving to take in her attire, “Even she’s dressed in red and gold from head to toe.”

“I know it’s a little…different from our Slytherin green,” Jade looked around with an amused hum before nodding, “but yes, it does. Back home we wear red for luck, for the new year.”

“New year? That was weeks ago!” Sebastian gaped at her with confusion, looking at Jade as if she were daffy.

Jade shook her head at him as she sat back down next to Ominis, copying Sebastian’s position of propping her chin up. Eyes squinted in laughter. “Not the western new year, Sebastian. We celebrate the lunisolar new year back at home.”

“As long as you’re not leaving us for better pastures,” Though Jade knew Ominis was making light with a joke, she could still hear the slight trace of insecurity beneath his tone.

Taking his hand into hers, she gives it a reassuring squeeze, her thumb tracing over his knuckles, “I promise you, I’m not. I’m a snake through and through.” Her voice is gentle but resolute.

“Now that we’ve established that you’re not planning to change houses.” Leaning back to cross his arms over his chest, Sebastian’s gaze turned serious, “What is wrong?”

“I’m fi–” Jade protested, only to be cut off by Ominis.

“You’re not fine, my dear.” It was now Ominis who squeezed her hand back reassuringly. His voice was heavy with worry and it filled her with remorse that she was the cause of it. “Tell us the truth, you have a habit of playing down your feelings just to make sure we don’t worry.”

“We’re already worried, pet.” Sebastian added on, his voice also heavy.

Jade gaped at them, struck silent. Biting her lips with apprehension, her gaze falls to the floor. It would be a lie to say that she didn’t feel touched by their caring. Which cemented her decision to be honest.

“...I’m just a little homesick,” she admitted quietly.

The boys said nothing, their silence urging her to continue without interruption.

“The new year, in my culture, is a time for family. We come together, feast together, and just spend time with each other. This is the first year I’m without them this time of year and it’s made me feel a little lonely…” she could feel the weight of their gaze as she stared down at her hands to avoid looking at them. It was difficult for her to be this vulnerable but she did owe the other two an explanation.

“Are we not your family, pet?” Ominis asked with a saddened voice.

Eyes widening, she snapped her head to Ominis and reacted frantically. “You are! But I didn’t want to bother you two with something this insignificant.”

“It’s not insignificant at all, my dear. Especially if it’s making you this way.” Sebastian quirked an eyebrow and counted smartly, leaning heavily on the table in front of him.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Jade sighed again. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I should have sought both of you out from the beginning.”

Humming with satisfaction, Sebastian flashed her a boyish smirk, “When am I ever wrong?”

As Ominis was about to retort a loud growl echoed through the room, startling Jade while Sebastian flushed red. Sheepishly scratching the back of his head. Though embarrassing, it was a reprieve from the tension that was hanging in the air.

“We may have missed lunch while looking for you,” Ominis’ voice light as he tried to stifle his laugh behind his hand.

“I suppose I should make up to you guys. Would you like to join me for dinner? I may have made too much for myself to finish.” After hearing their sounds of approval, Jade heads to the corner of the room to retrieve several dishes filled with food. All kept warm at the perfect temperature with a preservation spell.

Sebastian’s eyes were wide as he took in the wide array of food before him. Their savory scents drew Ominis to lean over. Trying to identify each dish from the medley of delicious aroma. Whole fish, chicken, meats, noodles, vegetables, and flaky desserts all sat on ornate plates. Jade filled bowls of rice and placed them in front of both Sebastian and Ominis, along with their settings.

“This was your reason for visiting the kitchens with Weasley?” Sebastian asked as he turned to her with excitement. You could practically see the drool on his chin as he swallowed with enthusiasm.

“Oh stars, I hope you didn’t give Garreth a hard time.” Jade rolled her eyes and pleaded with a groan. “He was kind enough to escort me there.”

They didn’t respond but the look on their faces did nothing to quell the amused frustration. She was going to have to make it up to the poor Gryffindor boy.

“What am I to do with you both?” Shaking her head fondly, Jade brought over the last plate. Once she sat back down in her seat next to Ominis, gesturing to the spread, she announced, “I worked hard for this meal. So, dig in.”

They did so enthusiastically. The air was filled with banter as well as animated praises of her cooking. Sebastian dug into every dish, taking seconds and even thirds from the ones he especially enjoyed. Ominis was more refined in his enjoyment but it did not miss Jade’s knowing look when he took more helpings of the dessert assortment. When they were finally full, Sebastian let out a huff of satisfaction. Hands rubbing over his much fuller stomach. Ominis thanked her for the meal and Jade happily accepted his gratitude.

“So…” Sebastian leaned over the table and smiled cheekily, “we heard from Poppy that you got a howler from Professor Howin?”

“A howler?” she tilted her head in perplexion.

“I’m sure you’ve seen them in the halls. The red letters sent by families to yell at the poor recipients.” Ominis filled in the information with a small smirk, “you can’t miss them, terribly loud they are.”

That was when a look of recognition dawned on her face when Sebastian continued with his questioning.

“So what did our poor pet do to warrant one from our Beasts professor?” This had been nagging at Sebastian since Poppy told them this detail. Now that they knew that their evasive friend was fine, he was itching to soothe this curiosity.

“Oh! You mean this!” Jade pulled out a little red envelope from the sleeve of her robe. She first showed it to Sebastian before handing it to Ominis so that he was able to trace his fingers over it for him to visualize.

It didn’t at all look like the horrid howlers that the students dreaded. It was much smaller with embossed details as well as elegant characters in gold gilding.

“Not a howler, thankfully, they’re red envelopes! Adults tend to give them to children to wish them luck and prosperity,” her face glowed as a large smile parted her lips. Joy and fondness flooded her features when she gazed down at the little envelope, “Professor Howin saw how down I was and wanted to cheer me up with this tradition from our homeland.”

“Does that mean we each get one from you?” Sebastian teased. The grin he sported before only grew larger. Seeing Jade disposition return to how it normally was settled the troubled tinge in his chest.

“Get one from me?” she asked.

Ominis decided to join in Sebastian’s poking fun, “Of course, my dear. Don’t you want to wish us luck and prosperity too?”

“Ha! Unless one of you wants to marry me right now, it would have to wait,” a loud, carefree laugh escaped her.

A choking sound came from Sebastian at her declaration while Ominis cleared his throat awkwardly. Both of their ears and cheeks flushed a bright pink.

Jade looked at them with appreciation, resting her hand in her palm. Eyes misty as she smiled warmly, “Thank you so much for spending my new year with me. You don’t know how much it means to me.” Sebastian returns her gaze, full of his own affections towards her. Ominis takes her hand into his own again, feeling her warmth radiate into his own. “We snakes stick together,” said Sebastian, “we are family, Jade. Happy new year.”

“Happy new year, my dear,” Ominis gave his own warm wishes.

If silent, happy tears fell from Jade’s eyes, no one commented on it. A watery but happy smile on her face as she grasped Ominis’ hand, red lanterns continued to float around them.

“Happy new year!”

#sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #sebastian x mc x ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x oc #sebastian sallow x oc #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #fluff #slytherin mc

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shipmistress9 · 22 days ago

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Virtually Tame Xtra Snuggles - 1

Fandom: The Epyrean

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Violet/Tairn/Xaden/Sgaeyl

Tags/Warnings: Poly Monsterfucking Smutfest. That's it. That's the fic. 😆

Summary:

*** “No other dragon, the mating bond is too sacred for that. But there’s another option.” Tairn’s tail moves behind me, gently pushing me closer to him again. “Another bond that’s equally sacred.” ***

When leadership gives the order that Violet and Xaden only get leave every two months, the strain that puts on their dragons quickly becomes more than they all can bear. Good thing that there’s a backup plan—which might end up as far more than just a temporary arrangement.

Chapter 1: Setting things up (no smut) Chapter 2: Violet/Tairn Chapter 3: Xaden/Sgaeyl (More to be added)

AN: Happy Secret Solstice to @copperfirebird

Also, did I pick this title specifically so its acronym is the ship's initials? Yes, I did. 😇

Also also, this story picks up directly at an early point in Iron Flame, specifically where Violet and Xaden get their orders about the scheduled leaves they get so their dragons can reconnect.

(AO3)

. o O o .

Violet

It could have been worse, I guess. At least leadership bought Xaden’s story about the gryphon attack in Resson. At least they don’t suspect us to be traitors anymore—or at least not openly. At least they will give me and Xaden time off so our dragons can reconnect.

But…fuck!

Only one extended weekend every two months? With alternating schedules, that’ll give them only four days per month—even less with the flight back and forth.

“We’ll make it work,” Tairn growls into my mind, even his mental voice barely more than a snarl. Oh, he’s pissed.

“But what about Monserrat?” I argue down the four-way path between Xaden, me, and our dragons. “Three days were your maximum.”

Despite the frustration about these new orders, there’s amusement echoing through the bond—coming from…Tairn I think?

“Well, about that,” Sgaeyl hums, and I get the impression of her giving Xaden a mental head bump. Like a scaly overgrown cat. I still can’t believe how much her behaviour towards me has changed over these last couple of days. How she seems to accept me as equally important as Xaden and Tairn now. “I think you two should talk.” Thenshe and Tairnretreat, rebuilding their shields to, thankfully, block us out from what’s probably going to be a very intense farewell.

I turn to Xaden standing next to me and cock my head. “What did she mean by that?”

Xaden Riorson blushes.

. o O o .

We talk. For the entire night, Xaden and I stay in a secluded corner of the dining hall—not daring to go to my room, near a bed or any other private place—and talk. About our feelings, about trust, about secrets. And he lets me in. Not entirely, maybe, but enough for me to know that he’s not keeping any vital secrets from me on purpose anymore.

We’re not where we were about a week ago, before war games and Resson and Aretia broke what we started that night, on the parapet and in his bedroom. But when we kiss goodbye before he has to leave in the morning, I’m optimistic that we’re getting there again.

And we do. By the time he arrives at Basgiath twenty-six days later, the long time of pondering my feelings and his words combined with Tairn’s thrumming impatience to see Sgaeyl again softened me. So when he takes my face between his hands, gently, and gazes into my eyes like a man starving, all he finds there is love and forgiveness.

That night, our dragons’ shields aren’t as solid as they could be. Just like that night the snow fell, their lust and desire leaks through, echoing within Xaden and me, but this time, we’re not even trying to fight it. Because there won’t be any regrets in the morning. Or in the days after. Officially, I don’t have leave on the days before and after this weekend. But there is absolutely no possibility of me leaving my bed, leaving Xaden, not with emotions and desire boiling hot.

I’m sure Rhiannon will be able to make up some excuse for me. That I’m down with some illness or whatever. Fuck, I don’t care. I should thank her though, for the lack of interruptions and also for the trays with food and water occasionally appearing in front of my door. And I will. Once I can think straight again.

And even when Xaden and Sgaeyl leave again after four days, I can’t keep the wide grin off my face. Everything’s working out better than I thought it would.

For about two and a half weeks into the second month of separation, at least.

. o O o .

“Fucking shit, Sorrengail!” a rider from Third Wing shouts, cursing as she slaps out the glowing sparks on her jacket. “Get your dragon to back off, will you?”

“I’m sorry,” I call over, trying to give them an apologetic smile. “He’s just…”

But I don’t even bother finishing. She and the group of riders around her give me dirty looks and step around the still smoking scorch mark, leaving me standing next to Tairn’s leg.

“What was that?” I demand, a little unnerved. “That was already the third time you nearly torched someone this week.” And it’s not as if they came that close, either. He really has no excuse.

Tairn doesn’t give me a verbal answer, only growls low in his chest. I still get it, though, and my shoulders slump.

“You miss her that much, huh?”

Tairn shuffles, his tail with the spiked club at the end curling around us. “Yes,” he growls into my mind.

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this because of me.” I place a hand on his leg, the black scales smooth beneath my fingers. “I wish there was something I could do to make it right again.” Then I frown. “But I don’t understand. Last month, it didn’t affect you this much. What’s different now?”

Tairn gives me a strange look, intense and piercing. Then he lets out a grumbling soundthat causes the last stragglers on the flight field to quickly leave and their dragons to take off into the sky without lingering. “What’s different now is that last month, I thought I could just wait it out and bear it,” he grumbles. “I thought it would get easier.” He snakes his head left and right, a tremor running through him. “But it doesn’t. It’s just as bad as last month, maybe even worse. Two years of this will be too much.”

My heart sinks. I doubt leadership will change our orders, not after they saw that Tairn and Sgaeyl made it through that first month just fine. “Tairn…” Absentmindedly, I stroke along his scales, aiming to soothe him. “I know it’s hard for you, but—”

Tairn huffs, a noise that sounds eerily like laughter. “Oh, you have no idea how hard it is, Silver One.”

Except, that I do. It’s there, at the edge of my mind, like some subliminal knowledge. No, that’s not quite it. It’s Tairn, his thoughts and emotions just hovering outside my consciousness. And I know this feeling, know it all too well. This feeling of cold nights and sticky sweat, trembling frustration. Something more than just longing.

It’s unresolved lust.

“Tairn?” I say out loud this time, alarmed. I withdraw my hand from his leg, and he groans. At the loss of contact?

“It’s a tricky truth, this tale about how mated dragons can’t live without each other.” Tairn bends his leg so his scales brush against my hand again. “It’s a ruse but also not a lie.”

Warmth prickles along my skin. “What do you mean?”

“When one of us dies, the other follows, that much is true. But being separated doesn’t affect our health, not directly.” He takes a step forward, effectively blocking out the rest of the world. “But we dragons are loyal. Once mated, this bond can never be undone. It’s a choice as much as it is an imperative, unbreakable. Or, to use your words, I’ll never in my life fuck another dragon but but the one I’m mated with.”

I blink, taken by surprise. Though mostly by his bluntness; I can feel his longing through our bond, after all. Then I burst out into laughter. “So, you’re saying you’re suffering from blue balls? That’s it? That’s the whole problem?”

Tairn growls, louder now, and his tail curls a little tighter. “Have you ever wondered how it is that we can fly across half the continent without a pause?” he says instead of an answer. “Or how we can fight and wield magic for hours and hours during a battle? How much energy that costs?”

Carefully, I shake my head.No, I haven’t. But thinking about it now, it must indeed be a lot, more than I can grasp without longer studies.

“Right,” Tairn scoffs. “And what do you think we do with that much energy when we don’t use it up? When we’re cooped up in these mountains with only your occasional flight lessons to think about?” He lowers his head, looking at me through eyes that seem to glow in the light of the evening sun.

Mutely, I shake my head. I don’t know the answer, though I feel like I can guess.

“We fuck.” Tairn’s words snap into my mind like thunder after a lightning strike. “What you and the shadow wielder sense occasionally are the moments we lose track of the world and everything around us, when we’re in too deep to care. What you don’t feel are the other times. You might call them quickies. The half-hours we steal here and there just to use up at least a tiny bit of that energy brewing in our bodies. For smaller dragons, once or twice per day is usually sufficient, but for Sgaeyl and me, anything under five times leaves us restless and aching. Ten times is better. So, yes, Silver One. I’m suffering from ‘blue balls’, as you called it. And it is intolerable.”

I bite my lip and look away, feeling bad for having laughed at him. This really isn't funny in any way. “But can’t you just...jerk off, or something? I don’t know. Rut against a tree, maybe?”

He lets out another huffing laugh. “That’s not how it works for us. Only another warm body will do.”

He comes closer still until my back hits the smooth wall of his scaled tail behind me. Without a warning, he opens his shields and foreign sensations flash through my mind, flooding it. Impressions of a thrumming tightness in my belly, of tingling limbs, yearning for the touch of the one that matters, insistent throbbing between my legs, so intense that it’s edging on pain.

After only one heartbeat, the sensations disappear as Tairn’s shields are back up again. But it still leaves my knees shaking, my head spinning, my hands fumbling for anything to hold on to.

“I—I’m so sorry,” I breathe, blinking to focus my vision again. “I…I had no idea…”

Tairn huffs again. “That was merely a memory. A memory of one of the times the shadow wielder got sent to a midland post for two days last year. If I were to let you feel how I feel now, it would tear your mind to shreds.”

A shiver runs down my spin at merely imagining it. How he must feel. He’s right, two years of this agony is too much.

“We have to do something.” I try to get back on my feet but still need to hold on to Tairn’s tail behind me, my knees still too wobbly to hold me. “Have to get them to change our orders. They can’t make you go through this. And not just you. How is Sgaeyl supposed to focus on fighting when she feels like this?”

“Your leadership won’t budge.”

He says it calmly, like it is just a simple fact, like stating the weather. And it is, I suppose. Because we both know they won’t.

“But you don’t need to worry about my mate’s safety—or the shadow wielder’s. Sgaeyl already found a solution.”

“She did?” I frown. “But I thought there is no other—”

“No other dragon, the mating bond is too sacred for that. But there’s another option.” Tairn’s tail moves behind me, gently pushing me closer to him again. “Another bond that’s equally sacred.”

I blink. There is no other dragon bond like the mating bond.Not between parents and their offspring, not even towards their elders. Nothing. The only other bond that might come close is—

My brain short-circuits.

No! No, that’s not possible. Tairn can’t mean…the bond between a dragon and rider? But that’s—

Soft calmness drowns my whirling thoughts, and even though I know it’s Tairn, I can’t fight against it. I’m not even sure I want to.

“Yes, Silver One. Our bond is the only one that rivals the mating bond, the only one that is equally strong. Equally important.”

“Okay, okay, stop there for a moment.” I hold my hands up as if I’d be capable of physically keeping Tairn from doing anything. “Our bond is strong, I get that. But what does that have to do with your current problem? I mean...It’s not like I could help you…blow off all that energy, or whatever.” I laugh, a little breathlessly. “I mean…all physical incompatibilities aside—”

And there are countless of those. It’s just impossible. Ludicrous. Insane. Just the idea of being in any form sexually involved with a fucking dragon, it’s…it’s… And just imagining what Tairn implied, that somehow Xaden and Sgaeyl… I shake my head, not to deny it but to clear it.

Because despite everything, the idea is not as disturbing as it should be.

“—I—I can’t do it. This. Whatever.” I take a deep breath. “I want to help you and I promise we’ll find a way. But I’m not going to go behind Xaden’s back. Or force you to go behind Sgaeyl’s.” And I won’t even be thinking about Tairn’s insinuations.

A low rumble sounds from Tairn’s chest, but it sounds more soothing than threatening. “I know, Silver One. I know your heart. But don’t you see? The four of us, we’re already linked, deeper and more intimate than physical relief can ever reach.”

The truth of his words sinks in quicker than I would have expected. Because he’s right, isn’t he? I’ve known it for months, ever since the night Oren attacked me in my sleep and Xaden brought me to the flight field, to this very spot. There’s a connection, not just between Tairn and me or Xaden and me. But also between Sgaeyl and me, between all four of us. We’re one.

“And…and you say Xaden and Sgaeyl already…” I switch back to talking mentally, a blush heating my cheeks. We might be alone out here, but I still wouldn’t want anyone to overhear this conversation.

“Yes, she told me when they were here,” Tairn growls, his mental voice rougher than usual, as if those memories alone set him off a few notches. A shudder runs through his powerful body, and I can’t blame him. Imagining it does things to me, too. “And in case you wonder why he didn’t tell you, it’s because he’s a coward,” Tairn adds with an amused huff. “Afraid of losing you again, or whatever. Because he still doesn’t see how hopelessly you’ve fallen for him.”

How unbreakable our bond is. Yeah, I get it. Xaden can be like this. The thought makes me smile.

But can I do this? Would he really understand? I only have Tairn’s word for it, and while I know he wouldn’t lie to me…

As I ponder, something else draws my attention. Something nudging against the edges of my consciousness. A message? No, a memory. A memory of me lying in my bed, deep asleep, exhausted from more orgasms than I could care to count. Xaden is leaning over me, brushing a kiss against my bare shoulder before he murmurs, “It’s okay.” Just these two words, out of context and without me even registering them. Except I did, this memory and its meaning planted into my mind for this very moment.

It’s okay.

Taking a deep breath, I refocus on the here and now, on Tairn all around me. “All right. How can I help you? What is it you need me to do?”

#violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #tairneanach #tairn #sgaeyl #fanfiction #the empyrean #monsterfucking #Violet/Tairn/Xaden/Sgaeyl #fluff #smut #mostly smut

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videogamelover99 · 2 months ago

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[Gravity Falls] Waking Days Ch. 8: A Nice Day Out

Summary: Bill Cipher is reborn, but not in the way he would have wanted. Stuck as a mortal and relying on those who brought his downfall, he realizes that maybe he didn't lie as hard as he should have. [AO3 Link] Characters: Bill Cipher, Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines, Stanford Pines, Stanley Pines, Jheselbraum the Unswerving, The Axolotl Pairings: past BillFord Rating: T

A/N: Hi! I'm not dead! Just dealing with my move and my new job! From now on, I will switch to a bi-weekly posting schedule until I feel like I can keep up with posting once a week again. It's a marathon, not a sprint, haha. Thank you to @megxolotl and @nexstage for beta-reading. Enjoy!

---

“Wow, that was awkward,” said Bill. “Anyway! You should probably go talk to him.”

Mabel stared at her hands.

“Seriously, who knows what he’ll get up to.” Bill cast a quick glance at the door. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t thought this through as much as he should’ve. No doubt the first thing Pine Tree was going to do, once he got over his tantrum, was go tattle to Stanford Pines. Hopefully, soon it wouldn’t matter. He could get rid of Sarah. He just needed Star out of the picture, and the rift was his. “Aaand you’re not going. Guess this sibling relationship will stay irreparable. Forever.”

Mabel sniffed.

“You’re not…leaking, right? That thing you humans do with your eyes? Cause if that’s the case-”

Mabel looked up at him. She was grinning. “Whaat? Come on, it’s not a big deal. You’re right, we should just talk to Dipper!”

“We?”

She grabbed his arm before he could protest, and hauled him up the stairs. “We’ll figure out the rift thingy later!”

Bill cast a mournful glance at the door to the storage room. He needed to get to that rift.

—

“Ah, nothing like kicking it back and drinking something terrible that’ll cause a problem later. Right, Ford?” Stanley leaned back against the hard plastic chair of the cafe and took a long sip of his milkshake.

Ford nursed his cup of coffee Stan had switched out for decaf while he thought Ford wasn’t looking. He smiled. “You were right. I was going at an unfeasible pace. The break was…much needed.”

“Of course I’m right. The world’s not ending today. Your friend over there give you a timeline?”

“Nora isn’t sure herself,” Ford said. “The only way to predict anything is by watching the rift. And even then, it could be months, if not weeks until…” He shuddered.

“Hey, what did I say? You don’t gotta think about this stuff now.” Stan shoved the milkshake in Ford’s face. “Here! Make some terrible choices and relax.”

Ford took the milkshake. It was overly sweet and frothy. The silly straw was certainly a choice. Not to his taste, but Bill would’ve…

Ford shook his head.

Why did that thought have to come up now?

—

Soos ran out to see if he could catch the hot dog cart across the mall, and Melody took the opportunity to sit down at the table over, where- Nora was her name? Where Nora was picking at the basket of fries in front of her as if they were going to eat her.

“Hi,” said Melody.

Nora blinked up at her. She looked…not quite there. “Hi.”

“I’m Melody.”

“I know who you are.”

“Oh. Right. Psychic powers.” This was getting awkward.

Melody took a fry and popped it in her mouth. Stan said she was an alien, right? Maybe she needed a demonstration.

It did the trick. Nora picked up a fry and finally put it in her mouth. Her brow furrowed with surprise. “These are good.”

“Right? It’s one of my top ten favorite places ever.”

“You know, you might be onto something,” said Nora. She took another fry.

“So, what’s it like being an alien from another dimension?”

The other woman shot her a look. “What is it like being a human from this dimension?”

“I don’t…know?”

The corner of Nora’s lips twitched slightly.

Melody laughed. “Fair enough.”

Melody’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She ignored it, despite Nora’s glance. It buzzed again. And again.

Angry, Melody pulled it out and pressed the power button.

“What is that?” Nora asked.

“Oh! It’s a cell phone.” Melody held it up, eager to change the subject. “We use it to-”

“I know what a cell phone is,” Nora said, not without irony. “I meant the messages.” She squinted at the screen. “Who is excelsior21?”

“No one!” Melody quickly hid it. The phone only buzzed again.

‘Doesn’t seem like no one,” said Nora.

“Okay, so maybe it’s someone! Someone who might or might not be my ex?” Why was she spilling her guts like that to a literal stranger? There was something in Nora’s demeanor that made her a little too okay with it. She quickly glanced at where Soos had been sitting, then turned back to her phone and glared at it. Suddenly, she couldn’t help ranting. “I hoped he would just get the message and go away! But he won’t. I tried turning it off, but-” It kept turning itself on again. And Melody knew why. She really didn’t need this ruining her day.

“Can I see it?”

Melody hesitated, then handed the phone to Nora. The alien woman inspected the device and pulled something from her pocket. “I can trace where they’re coming from and shut off any messages from that cell tower for you.”

“Like hacking?”

“Better than hacking.” Nora pulled out a small, tube-like device. A hologram erupted from it of some kind of network. “It’s magic.” She spread her hands in emphasis.

At the word “magic”, Melody shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Nora didn’t seem to notice, pulling out a piece of chalk and writing something on the table. The hologram flickered, then shifted, coming up with strange symbols. Nora frowned. “Well, I know where it’s coming from.”

“Where?”

“That direction,” she pointed down the hall to the nearby row of shops. “Three hundred feet away.”

—

Dipper stormed out of the store, almost running into a lady with a dozen shopping bags under her arm. He found a more secluded corner to pace.

What was Mabel thinking?! Bill couldn’t be trusted! He’d thought he’d gotten through to her, over and over again, but apparently, that wasn’t the case! She’d sided with Bill! Why?!

And the rift…how long has it been there? Were there others? Did Bill make them? What was Dipper supposed to do?!

He needed to tell Grunkle Ford. Dipper stuffed his hands in his pockets and hurried to the exit. His left hand closed around a scrap of paper, and he pulled it out without thinking.

16 degrees C to 18 degrees C, no higher than 24 degrees C.

Bill’s stupid riddle. Dipper crumpled it into a ball and launched it at the nearest trashcan, only to miss. The ball bounced off the lid and fell in front of a large, red-haired man exiting a nearby store. He looked down at it, and after a moment picked it up.

Dipper hurried over. “Sorry, man.”

The man looked down at the note. “You got a terrarium?” he asked.

Dipper froze, hand hovering inches away from the note. “What?”

“Oh! You’re a fish kind of guy, huh?” The man handed him back the note. “That’s tropical water temperatures, dude, gotta be expensive.”

He pointed his thumb at the store behind him which Dipper realized it was a pet shop. The guy had a small bag full of water in his hand. In the bag was a tiny silverfish.

“Oh, that’s not-” Dipper looked back down at the note. A realization started forming in the forefront of his brain. Degrees C wasn’t a code or a riddle. It was literal.

Bill had given him this riddle knowing he was going to overthink it. Dipper had two sudden, contradicting urges to either hug this man or go back and strangle Bill.

“Oh man, oh man, you have no idea what you just…” Dipper settled on shaking the man’s hand for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Then he bolted for the pet store.

—

Stanley’s stomach did not agree with his milkshake. He bolted for the bathroom and Ford was left staring out into space, having nothing else to do. Soos had been gone for a while, and the girls had disappeared. He hated boredom, a sure sign of his mind being idle and unoccupied, wasting time on the mundane, and yet he was too tired to move from his seat. Ford watched the milkshake slowly liquefy in his cup and wondered idly if he could invent unmeltable milkshakes. Now that would be…commercial drivel. He must truly be sleep-deprived.

It took him almost a minute to realize the two people coming out of a nearby store were his niece and his worst enemy.

It took him twice as little time to cross the food court.

“What are you doing here with Mabel?” he demanded.

“Woah there!” Bill took a step back. “Ever heard of personal space, Fordsy? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were eager to see me.”

Ford sputtered. His brain was so fried, he froze on coming up with a good comeback.

“What are you doing here, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel asked.

“I was- Stanley- They-” Ford left embarrassment to creep through the haze his thoughts were covered with. This was not how he planned this confrontation to go. “Bowling.” He said lamely.

Bill was grinning smugly. He wished Mabel wasn’t here, just so he could punch the demon in the face.

“I love bowling!” said Mabel. “Wait, no, gotta focus. Grunkle Ford, there’s something you should-”

“Yikes,” said Bill, looking Ford up and down. “You look like hell, Sixer, and I mean that from the bottom of my nonexistent heart. A smidge of bad news and you’d explode where you stand!”

Ford forced himself to ignore him. “What is it, Mabel?”

“Uh,” said Mabel. “Nothing! It can wait. Probably.” She put a concerned hand on Ford’s arm. “We were just…shopping! Super not important! Bill didn’t even make anyone cry today, nothing at all to worry about.” She grinned innocently.

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You need to stop indulging him.”

“You’d know a thing or two about that, don’t you?”

“Oh, be quiet!”

—

Dipper went through 6 terrariums and a dozen fish tanks and found several tanks with a water temperature within the range of the riddle. Most of them were tropical fish. Dipper tried to rearrange the names of the species, going so far as to compose several anagrams, but none of them made any sense.

He came upon a tank in the corner of the store and stopped. Inside the tank was not a fish, but a large pink amphibian, about the size of Dipper’s forearm. It floated at the bottom of the tank and looked like a frilled, smooth-skinned salamander. Its little eyes met Dipper’s own. For a moment, it almost looked like it was smiling at him.

Dipper checked the thermometer on the inside of the tank. 17.5 degrees Celsius.

“Interested in our axolotl?”

A woman in a nametag came up behind him. Dipper almost didn’t notice her, too busy staring at the creature depicted in countless tapestries and paintings in the oracle’s shrine. The that had a god-like significance to so many of the aliens they’d met. A creature they knew nothing about, but that felt so familiar. ”Um, could you tell me if this is accurate?” He held up the crumpled piece of paper.

The woman took a moment to read it. “It is! Looks like you’ve done your research. That’s so this little guy stays in a safe environment, temperatures too cold or too warm mess with his metabolism, which can be fatal. You wanna keep the temperature in that range, and not go over 75 Fahrenheit, or 24 Celsius if you wanna be scientific about it. We have two more of these guys if you want to take a look at them. Oh, but it looks like our little William likes you!”

Dipper looked back down at the note, then the axolotl. He noticed the tag attached to the bottom of the tank with a name scrawled in permanent marker: “William”.

I’m definitely strangling Bill next time I see him.

The axolotl let out a few air bubbles, almost like it was laughing.

—

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” said Melody.

“Yes, well, I don’t think your stalker is going away anytime soon,” said Nora. “Luckily, there’s plenty of ways to scare him off. I plan to use only the mildly painful one.”

This was turning into a disaster quicker than Melody expected. She had the sense that Nora was more powerful than she looked, but that did little to reassure her. “Look, not that I’m not super grateful you’re willing to stand up for me even though you barely know me-”

“I know more than you think.”

“...That’s kind of creepy?”

Nora shrugged, unbothered.

“Okay, but listen, you clearly don’t know about this, so trust me, it’s better if you just leave it alone- What are you doing?”

Nora stopped and bent over, sticking her head in a plastic topiary bush. “Found you,” she sang.

And Melody watched as this tiny woman dragged a grown man out of the bush.

—

The human man didn’t look like much by Nora’s standards. He had pale skin, shifty eyes, a mane of shaggy, barely-kempt hair, an oversized trench coat, and a nervous demeanor. He held an old leather suitcase close to his chest, having clung to it even as he realized he had been discovered.

“Hi~,” said Nora. “Having a nice day out? You must be.”

Behind her, Melody gasped. “Lukas?”

“Melody!” The man stood up, brushing invisible dirt off his coat. He puffed his chest out, and at his full height, he was not even a head taller than Nora. Still, her own lack of height in this new form irritated her. “I can explain.”

“This’ll be rich,” Nora muttered.

“What are you doing here?” Melody asked cautiously.

“I can explain,” Lukas said again. “I- I just needed to talk to you! But you were never alone, and I-I can’t just say what I need to say in front of…” He looked down on Nora with such disdain, that she was surprised by his audacity. “Some random hicks.”

“You have an intriguing taste in men,” Nora remarked.

“You should leave,” said Melody.

“Wait! Please! Just listen, I met this guy, and he’s some kind of a relationship guru? And I know now, that if we just talked, we could-”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

Something in the man’s demeanor changed - less pathetic and more angry. “You have to hear me out!”

“Actually,” said Nora, producing a small piece of chalk from her pocket. “She doesn’t.”

She drew a circle with the chalk in the air. The circle expanded before striking the ground as if pulled by a giant magnet, completely encircling the man. He let out a startled yelp as the air around him grew jagged, splitting off into dozens of golden fractals.

“Now, where should I send you?” Antarctica should be great this time of year.”

“Um, Nora?”

“Relax, it’ll be near a research station. He’ll have a whole sixty seconds before he freezes to death.”

The circle spun, growing smaller and smaller, the fractals along with it. A teleportation spell wasn’t terribly complicated, but it did make for a lovely show.

The circle grew small enough to touch the man’s toes - and promptly shattered. The fractals vanished.

Nora stared at the remains of a spell she’d cast a dozen times before. “What.”

“I should’ve told you,” Melody said quietly.

The man shuddered, looking straight at her. Then he chuckled nervously, pulling a pendant out of his shirt collar. It was covered in protective sigils. “That’s not gonna work,” he said.

With that, he popped open his suitcase.

—

“Hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?!”

“Being physically around you for more than five minutes at a time is giving me a headache.”

“Oh, you’re such a drama queen!”

“Stop following me!”

Ford realized that at this point, half of the mall was staring at the two of them yelling at each other. He was too tired to care. Seeing Bill now had only made Ford agitated and angry. He didn’t know whether to get away from Bill as fast as possible or turn around and throw him off the escalator.

Mabel ran to catch up with them, trying to reassure some of the gawkers. He didn’t want to make a scene in front of her, but Bill…Bill!

“After all of what happened you have the audacity to barge into our lives again-”

“How many times have I gotta tell you that I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS! You’re the one who put me on house arrest, Fordsy!”

“Why couldn’t you just stay dead?” Ford moaned.

Bill scoffed, as if genuinely offended by the remark. “Stop acting like you’re so miserable about it, we both know-”

That’s when a bolt of cartoonish lighting struck the ceiling above their heads.

Sparks erupted from the fluorescent lighting before half of the panels burst from the power surge. People around them shrieked and ran for cover. Ford turned to see a disheveled-looking Melody sprinting towards them.

“Melody! Are you alright?” Ford asked when she came to a stop. Mabel put a reassuring hand on her arm.

“So, uh…” said Melody, looking at Mabel. “You know how I said I dated a magician once?”

That’s when, from around the corner came a literal tornado. It shot more cartoonish lightning bolts, shattering a nearby storefront and making Ford’s hair rise from his scalp from all the static electricity. “Is that-?”

“Yeah.”

“And you-?”

“Yeah.”

“Girl,” said Mabel. “That’s messed up.”

Melody put her face in her hands. Ford felt a pang of sympathy.

Nora appeared on Ford’s other side, seemingly out of nowhere. Her hair seemed the worst off, strands of it sticking out in all directions. She seemed genuinely angry, which Ford had rarely seen. “Okay,” she said, “I was a bit too lenient. When this is over, I’m sending him to Mars.”

“Looking good, Seven Eyes,” said Bill.

“Bite me.”

They heard cackling from inside the tornado. Ford realized a person was floating in its epicenter, perfectly safe and balanced in the air despite the rippling winds. It was a man of average, disheveled appearance, in a long trench coat that floated around his body rather theatrically. He held a suitcase in one hand. The other he used to gesture dramatically.

“Listen closely, mortals!” the man bellowed. He must’ve cast a spell to amplify his voice because it sounded like it was coming out of a bass-boosted speaker. “I am the great wizard Excelsior! My magic power is great and vast. Many fear me, many more ask ‘How does that magic trick really work?’”

“You sure know how to pick ‘em, kid,” said Bill. Melody did not look up, looking like she wanted to be part of the magic trick that vanishes her from Earth.

“I have come to reclaim my lady,” he said, gesturing at melody to a nonexistent audience. “And I will not stand some mediocre wanna-be magician getting in my way!” he pointed an accusatory finger at Nora.

“The Sun,” Nora said calmly. “I’m sending him into the Sun.”

“Melody doesn’t want you!” Mabel yelled into the tornado. It was remarkable how such a small girl could muster that much oxygen. “She’s got someone else! Someone that’s way nicer than you!”

The tornado vanished. The Great Wizard Excelsior (simply thinking of the name caused Ford psychic damage) floated to the ground, his coat fluttering around him. Gone was the confidence as he hunched in on himself, reeling as if from a blow. “You found someone else?”

“Yeah, and they’re happy together, you big jerk! So beat it!”

Excelsior stared into the middle distance for a moment. “I didn’t want to use this, you know,” he said, ominous.

He popped open his suitcase and pulled out a strange, heart-shaped contraption. It resembled a locket with a chain attached to the edge on top, and yet it was as big as Ford’s fist.

Nora and Bill gasped.

“Where did you get that?”

“You’ve gotta be kidding-”

The wizard opened the locket. Inside was a

White.

Blinding.

Light.

---

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#gravity falls #bill cipher #flat dreams #pengychan #human bill au #fanfiction #the book of bill #vee's writing #a different form a different time #waking days reboot #doodledrawsthings

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