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nastybuckybarnes · 19 days ago

Text

Clumsy Corporals

Pairing: Ghost x Reader

Summary: Someone takes a tumble in Ghost's bathroom, leaving him to clean up the mess.

Warnings: Angst, attempted assault, language, violence, injuries, fluff, murder(?), Nudity,

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: fun fact - this is the first instalment for Ghost and Mouse that I ever wrote, and everything else kinda fell into place around this which I think is beautiful

A/n2: Posting this cause I feel like I just wanna escape reality a lot now and maybe some of you do too.

~*~

"Johnny told me you didn't join 'em for dinner again," Ghost says after closing the door to his quarters.

He can hear the shower running and shakes his head, following the sound and pushing open the ajar door.

"How are they supposed to warm up to you if..." the words die on his tongue almost comically as he takes in the scene before him.

You're curled up in a ball on the bathroom counter, bloodied hands clutching a towel tightly around what appears to be your naked body.

On the ground is Corporal Jacobs, a knife through the underside of his chin and a pool of blood around his head.

His lifeless eyes are open, and your eyes are focused on his body as if waiting for him to get up, to move, to attack.

Ghost surveys the scene quickly, taking in the marks around your neck, the blood on your hairline, and the cut on your cheek.

"What happened?"

He doesn't need to ask, but he does anyway.

Your bottom lip quivers, and for a moment he's not sure if you even heard him. You don't flinch, your breathing doesn't change, and you don't lift your eyes from the corpse on the ground.

"Mouse. Eyes on me."

Your gaze finally snaps to his and you suck in a sharp breath as if realizing his presence for the first time.

He inspects your face once more, swallowing his rage when he sees the bruise blooming by your eye.

"What happened here?" He nods to the body on the ground.

You follow his gaze and he watches intently as your fists tighten and you swallow hard. Your lip quivers so fast it nearly vibrates, but you take a deep breath and eventually speak.

"He fell."

He thinks he's misheard you at first, glancing between the dead man and you.

He kneels down and grabs hold of the hilt of the knife stuck under the man's chin. A knife that Ghost distinctly remembers you taking from him a long while ago.

"He fell?" He asks, tilting the dead man's head to the side and grinding his teeth together at the claw marks on the side of his face.

You put up quite the fight. He'd be proud if he wasn't so filled with fury.

You slowly lift your eyes to his and his stone heart cracks a bit at the unshed tears he sees.

"Yes," you whisper.

He watches you for a breath longer then nods slowly, looking back down to the mess on the bathroom floor.

"Looks like he took quite the tumble, hmm? Silly prick, s'what you get for running with knives."

A weight lifts slightly off of your shoulders and you nod, wiping a tear off of your cheek with a bloody hand, leaving a mess in your wake.

"Now, did he fall before or after your shower?"

You swallow hard before answering, shaking your head as if trying to get rid of the memory of what happened.

"Before." Your voice is so quiet, quieter than usual, and he finds himself straining to hear you.

He pieces together all that he can with what's before him, and quickly comes up with a plan.

"It's late, little one. How's about you finish your shower, and-"

"No!"

He's taken aback by the force of your words, the ferocity of them. The terror in your eyes is twice as surprising.

"No shower?" He clarifies, glancing at the running water, no doubt cold by now.

You shake your head, confirming his words, and he nods his understanding.

Slowly, he stands up and turns the water off, then takes a step toward you.

"New plan. You sit right here, and I stay with you. I'll call Price and Johnny to come clean this up. How's that sound?" He asks, his eyes locked on yours.

You think about it for a long moment then slowly nod, leaning into his hand when he pushes some of your hair back.

A soft sigh leaves his lips and he leans forward, placing a soft kiss to your hairline before stepping back to send a quick generic text to the two men he trusts most.

Pipe burst in my quarters. Get here now.

It takes a minute and a half for Price to get there, two minutes for Soap.

"I'm gonna go meet them at the door, Mouse, but I won't be out of eyeshot, okay? Keep your eyes on me the whole time. That's an order."

You nod carefully, your eyes never leaving his as he takes calculated steps backward out of the bathroom to meet the other men at the door.

"What's going on, Lt?" Soap's gruff voice asks quietly.

The huge man takes a slow step back, allowing the two into his room.

Each man does a sweep of the room, their eyes finally landing on the bathroom and the bloody scene within.

"Fuckin' hell," Soap murmurs, rubbing his jaw.

"What happened?" Price asks quietly, looking at you skeptically.

Your eyes, however, are still locked onto Ghost's.

Ghost gives you a gentle nod then glances over at his teammates, his friends.

"He fell."

"What the bloody hell was he doin' in 'ere in the first place?" Soap asks, slowly walking toward the bathroom to inspect.

His eyes take you in, take in the blood on your hands, the bruising wrapping like a necklace around your neck.

"I think I have an idea," is Ghost's grunted reply.

Your eyes are on the Scot as he steps into the bathroom. Your breath hitches and you scoot back on the counter the tiniest bit.

"Easy, Mouse. Johnny's just gonna help clean up. You can trust him, remember?"

Soap looks up at you and gives you a gentle smile, his own anger rising when he sees more of the damage on your soft face.

"You've saved my arse. More than once, I imagine. S'only fair I help clean up after the poor man's fall," he says gently.

You watch him for a long while then slowly nod, sniffling then wiping your face against your arm, only to hiss at the unexpected pain.

"Why don't you let the Lieutenant get you patched up, sweetheart, hmm? Let Soap and I deal with this?" Price offers, stepping into the doorway.

You look between the three of them then nod again, watching in awe as they move like a well-oiled machine.

Soap takes a step further into the bathroom and Price steps out of it, making way for Ghost to walk in and carefully scoop you up in his arms.

He carries you from the bathroom and sits you down on his desk, turning his back for just long enough to grab a first aid kit.

Price and Soap immediately get to work in the bathroom as Ghost gets to work tending to your -visible- wounds.

He starts with your face, spraying a gentle antiseptic onto the cut on your cheek.

Your eyes stay focused on his as he works, and every now and then he meets your gaze.

The bathroom door opens but you don't look away from Ghost as Price and Soap shuffle by.

Ghost, however, takes a pause and shoots a glance over his shoulder.

"Dump 'im outside. I'll do the rest."

They don't question him.

The only thing allowing him to keep a level head right now is the promise of chopping that pathetic piece of shit's body up into a thousand unrecognizable pieces and feeding him to the stray dogs in the city.

But he needs to make sure you're taken care of, first.

"When we're done here, Johnny will get you a snack while I take care of... our friend. Okay?" Though it's posed like a question, you know he's telling you what's happening and leaving little room to argue.

The door shuts with a soft click, leaving the two of you alone.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He asks, scooting back to inspect you as much as he can.

You swallow hard and glance down, shrugging.

"I know you don't want to, but I think you should shower. I'll be right outside the door, won't let anyone in. I swear."

You look at him with wide eyes and shake your head.

"Come with me?" You finally ask, looking toward the bathroom as if it's where nightmares spawn.

For you, it is.

His brows draw together.

"You want me to sit in there with you?"

You shake your head again.

"In the water... please?"

Realization dawns on him and he's not too sure how to feel.

"You want me to shower with you?"

You nod, dainty fingers sliding over his wrist almost absentmindedly.

He doesn't have the heart to refuse you. To tell you that the shower is hardly big enough to fit him comfortably, let alone the both of you.

Instead, he just nods and helps you to your feet.

He's gentle with you, alarmingly so, as he helps you into the -now clean- bathroom, locking the door and turning the shower on.

You lean against the counter, towel held tightly around your body as he undresses swiftly.

When he's naked, he reaches a hand out to you and waits patiently for you to drop your towel, then steadies you as you step into the shower.

You barely made it this far before Corporal Jacobs-

Your thoughts are cut off by Simon stepping into the shower behind you, big warm hand holding your hip gently.

His chest presses against your back, the tiny shower even tinier now that it accommodates two.

"You okay, pretty mouse?" He asks, arms winding around your waist.

You shrug, leaning into him for a moment before slowly turning around to look up at him.

His eyes find yours, reading you, hearing the words you don't have the strength to say out loud, and then he's pressing his forehead against yours.

"You did good, little one. M'proud of you. Next time let me kill him, though. Poor bastard got off too easy, thinkin' he can go around n' touch what's mine. 'sides, don't need any blood on your pretty hands."

Your lip quivers and you tug your head away to lean it against his chest.

"Was scared," you whisper after a moment.

"Yeah, I bet."

"Of you," you add after a moment, not lifting your head even when you feel him stiffen.

"Why?" He finally asks, the fingers of his right hand trailing up and down your spine.

"Thought you... would not listen. Would think it was me."

His hand snakes up your back to grab your hair, tugging your head back gently and forcing you to look up at him.

His face is bare for your viewing pleasure, the steam the only thing between the two of you.

"Do you understand how much you mean to me? 've killed for you, love. 'n I'd do it again in a heartbeat, without question."

A silent tear slips down your cheek and is quickly lost in the humidity of the bathroom.

No more words are spoken for the rest of the shower.

He helps you gently wash your hair and your body, taking note of every scratch and bruise that wasn't there when he left you this morning.

Every new mark on your soft supple skin is another piece he's going to be cutting Jacob's body into, and he cannot wait.

But he needs to take care of his Mouse first.

When your fingers start to prune and the water is running a little cold, Simon helps you out of the shower and wraps a towel around you tightly.

He ushers you out of the bathroom, sitting you on the bed while he dries himself and tugs on some clothes.

After that, his focus is entirely on you. He dries you off gently, his eyes focused on yours the entire time, and you can't help but melt into his touch.

He helps you into one of his shirts then slides a pair of socks onto your feet.

"Do you want some water?" He asks quietly, his warm hands on your bare knees.

You shake your head, reaching forward and sliding your fingers over his thick shoulders.

"Want you. Stay."

He obeys, climbing into bed with you.

You curl up against him, nuzzling your head under his chin and taking deep comforting breaths of his scent.

He holds you against him until you fall asleep, moving only when his phone vibrates from its spot on the ground beside the bed.

Reaching for it slowly, careful not to move you too much, he scoops it up off the ground and reads the message quickly.

He sets his phone down and gingerly rolls you out of his arms, tucking you in tightly and then silently getting dressed.

He shoots you one last look once he's all dressed and ready, then slips out the door, shutting it tightly behind himself.

Soap stands outside the door, silently nodding to his Lieutenant, then turning his back to the door - keeping guard.

No words are spoken as the skull-faced man heads out to the coordinates on his phone. No questions are asked when he returns hours later with his sweater and gloves discarded and the faint smell of fire in his hair.

And when you wake up and start asking questions, he's sure to kiss them away and reassure you that you're safe. That Corporal Jacobs will never lift a finger to harm you again.

How can he? All ten are chopped off and sprinkled in different parts of the city.

Let that be a lesson to the next idiot who tries to harm his sweet little Mouse.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost and mouse #mouse and ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon x reader #simon ghost riley #simon/you #simon riley/you #simon riley/reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost/reader #tw: assault #tw: sa

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kit-williams · 5 months ago

Text

Consequences

Male Lead: Konrad Curze/Solruthis Uadasha/The Night Haunter (Sol being his nickname) Female Lead: Reader/Sorsollia (sun that illuminates)

I'm sorry I love Zalgo text a lot it says HIS

tw: yandere, broken bones, physical assault, torture

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog

Another successful compliance! As they didn't receive as much fighting as he had forseen but he was certain that would please Sorsollia. The smile on his face disappears seeing another scribe there waiting for him... you were the main scribe they were to collect when he had to do these frivolous talks of what he had done.

The other scribe bows their head and he feels a sense of anger... perhaps disgust that someone else is here... but he swallows the feeling and gets the talk over with. As they are packing up their tablet he stops them. "Where is Sorsollia?"

There is an upturn in their heartbeat, "She hasn't been feeling well. I don't know what she is sick with all I know is that she's off rotation for some time." LIAR his mind hisses but he knows his Sorsollia will be displeased if the only other Scribe that he has 'dained to be in his presence is dismissed.

"Thank you." He dismisses them as he sits and broods. His Sorsollia is alive... he would have been told otherwise. So he simply waits for a few hours... and waits... and waits... and waits. Sorsollia does not come... she does not message... there is silence... and Solruthis Usdasha does not like this.

He moves with the flickering lights... they turn off long enough for him to move to the next hall... to cram himself into the next crevice. Humans are surprisingly unaware creatures though many are Nostroman he passes... he frowns as he heads into the part of the ship that is inhabited by those who do not like it being so dark. Here the prey tends to act skittish... as he watches how one person turns on their heels when they see the hallway lights flicker hiding his movements. The soft nope from their lips would normally make him smile but he is on a mission.

He could easily also push himself into the service halls and move around that way but no... this is his ship and he can slink about how ever he pleases. He comes to her door pushing his thumb over the reader and overriding her locks... after all it is his ship he is the skeleton key.

He moved with unnatural quietness into her abode; spacious given her rank it had two rooms compared to the typical singular room. His ears moved as he heard her pained hiss.

Sorsollia winced as she dabbed the cotton ball against the cut on her forehead her non dominant arm in a sling as her broken wrist was splinted. Most of the swelling on her face had gone down just leaving the ugly bruising. She sniffled hard feeling herself want to tear up and cry again, her eyes went up freezing as there was someone- "Sol?" Her voice cracked as she turned around.

The fearful beating of her heart died as he knew that rushing hopeful beat. His mind was terrifyingly silent as he took a step closer... as he gently grabbed her face and turned her toward him... it was so quiet when he looked over her face... someone had beaten his Sorsollia. Someone had harmed his Sorsollia while he was away. His eyes look at her broken wrist and splinted fingers too he knew a threat he knew what a threat to someone's livelyhood looked like. His thumb absentmindedly wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks as her legs give way and she lets out a dispared wail. A wail that normally excites him... and oh how it still excited him in a different way. He pulls her out of the small room of the bathroom and holds her close. "Oh my Sorsollia what happened? Did the head scribe order this?" His voice suddenly went cold at the thought of someone abusing her because they were on a power trip.

"No! No... no... no... I don't-"

"Don't lie to me. Sorsollia you know I don't like lying. Don't protect the scum." He snarls holding her tightly, "They must be punished... I am a Primarch no one-"

"I don't know who they were." She sobs into his chest afraid of the repercussions but her Sol was there. "They came to me when you were gone. They didn't tell me who they worked for but to only edit a few documents to make their lord look better. I assume they were thugs for some noble. Because one of them had to have been one... because I talked back to him I was too comfortable in my position working for you because they didn't like a scribe talking back to them." Her voice strained at the end as the tears ran harder. "They knew which hand was my dominant one... so they broke my wrist of the other one to send a message." She was so very ugly when she cried... utterly distressed and distraught.

"And you still told them no?" He probes.

"They told me that they would be back and to use this time to consider it." She hiccups softly.

"When they come back I want you to agree." He says holding her. "I'll make sure I find out who they are and who their employer is." He whispers to her as she sobs into his shirt. Solruthis Uadasha finally truly comes out... there has been a great injustice inflicted upon his charge... upon his Sorsollia. And he will make them pay.

She was withdrawn... hardly holding the name Sorsollia but he played his role just as she did. They stayed apart as he played the distant ruler and not the attentive lover and she hardly needed goading into her role of the cowed submissive. He held her the night he came back... as she was tired and sleep wasn't coming to her... she was afraid and clung to him but for now she was by herself.

Konrad leaned back on his throne as the chirping of the small cogitatior he planted in her room. His impassive face split into an insane grin as he watches how the three... no four, his eyes spy the man at the door, "faceless" mooks walk with such false swagger. His nails dig into his seat as her arm is grabbed and Sorsollia collapses to her knees trying to get her wounded arm free. Konrad had sat and tended to her wounds to soothe her as she had been living in such sweet fear for days.

His dark eyes narrow at the hand touching his Sorsollia far too affectionately. Konrad gritted his teeth in that manic grin feeling the teeth chipping before healing. But once they were gone he quickly collected his Sorsollia taking the document they wanted her to improve and the name of the noble that had the AUDACITY to threaten what was H̷̨̭́̿Ḭ̴̏̕S̷̢͇̐. He hid her away in his room as Solrithis Uadasha got to work.

The lookout lay dead and blind... his tongue shredded to ribbons as they went down without saying anything. His torture felt much like an afterthought much just like their role in all of this. The two guards who had beaten and broken his Sorsollia's wrist he was careful in the application of pressure and pulling away... breaking more and more of their bones and perhaps like a Drukhari he twisted their useless limbs into unnatural shapes as the two bleated for death and each day he brought them closer and closer with more and more bones breaking and each day they did not expire he continued to crush and twist.

The lower noble who felt so big to be perhaps within the fucked up standards of society be able to get away with beating the personal scribe of a Primarch. Perhaps he had the right.... perhaps he did... but unfortunately for him he picked the wrong Primarch to try and get away with this crime. He had cut off the hand that he had dared touch what was his and was slowly peeling it bit by bit and feeding the flesh back to him.

Sorsollia was far too kind for her own good... he'd have to see what the laws from where she was were like... He pushed the flesh into the mans mouth grinning. "You know she said that the sins of the father don't pass on." He laughed, it was a hideous laugh one of disbelief that he held affection for someone so blind to the cruelty of the universe. And yet he hesitated to rip the veil from her eyes because once he did that... he was certain she would see the disgusting creature that he was. He craved her affection... he craved her attention... he craved her seeing him as a man. She couldn't be blind to everything... she was a legion scribe... she knew the methods.

There was a nasty thought planted in his mind now... the paranoia and mistrust rearing its ugly head... he left the torture room unable to find satisfaction in conducting the punishments until he figured out why. "Sorsollia." He said entering the room wiping the blood from his hands as she paused what she was listening too looking over at him from the lit corner of his room.

"Yes?"

"I need to know something." He walked over.

"Of course I live to serve." She said with a genuine smile but that only heightened his paranoia.

"Why did you want to work for my legion? We are perhaps the most cruel ones... and you had personally applied."

"I had personally applied for both your legion and the blood angels." Her lips became a thin line as she thought of words, "While I don't agree with the methods you employ... your rate of compliance compared to the body count is a good ratio. Um..."

"Speak."

"I just don't agree with it... but it leans more into the necessary evil. Not that you are evil Sol." Sorsollia quickly adds, "Just all of this... the great crusade... perhaps there is a selfishness in my part for hoping that I'm on the correct side of history... instead of simply being a conscientious objector... that maybe this will all be worth it in the end. But what do I know of war and combat... I'm just a helpless Scribe." She says looking at her wrist, "I chose you for the low ratio of bodies to compliance."

"And Sanguninius?" He says not betraying the way his hearts were twisting at the thought of his Sorsollia being in the Great Angel's company... being his Scribe. Konrad wants to claw his scalp at the anxiety that bubbles over at the thought of her being enamored with the perfect angel.

"I've heard he is kind. He gives many chances to accept the imperium's generous offer... but I've heard that the Blood Angels can be... scary. " She nervously laughs, "Me talking about how scared I am of the Blood Angels when I work for the Night Lords. I probably sound stupid..." He's noticed since she's been attacked how critical of herself she has been.

He pulls her into his arms his long fingers combing through her hair, "Sorsollia." He listens for her hum, "In a couple of days this will all be over. I want you to return to being yourself."

The pitying smile she gave him nearly had him snarling, "You're very bad at comforting but I appreciate the attempt. Just..." Her voice sounded so small, "Please promise me this won't happen again? Just... I thought I was safe and-" Her voice breaks as tears flow.

Giving her his child would let everyone know who she was... it would make sure no one would touch her... He kisses away her tears, "Shhh Sorsollia I swear upon one of my hearts that it won't happen again."

That gets her to smile, "If I'm keeping track that means you've sworn on both of your hearts so far."

"So it is. I've already taken care of the thugs that hurt you. They've been punished."

She just nods and hides her face in his chest, "I should probably go back to my room."

"One more day Sorsollia. You slept so fitfully last sleeping cycle... it would make me worry to find out you've been struggling to sleep. And I need to make sure you are comfortable so your wrist and fingers heal."

"Okay Sol. One more night." She sighs happily just feeling that she'll soon be able to put this all behind her. For Konrad he was thinking of what he was going to do to the noble who was so eager to get the Primarch's gaze... oh the dark grin on his face as he certainly had it now. He gave his Sorsollia a kiss on the forehead and swore that the sparkle to her eyes was slowly returning and that made his hearts sing.

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago

Text

The Conversation

Final Part of The Interview [Part One] [Part Two] [Ao3]

Steve finishes putting on his boots, shoves a beanie on his head, and grabs his thermos of coffee before heading outside. Robin had texted when they left Pendleton so they should be arriving soon, and he wants to make sure the dogs stay clear of the driveway, and also finish some of the chores he is being lazy about. The mountain air is cold in February, and the snow is deep, but it's still warm for a winter day in Eastern Oregon.

His childhood house had been at the edge of a little forest. His current home is tucked away in the woods, trees for miles, and the nearest neighbor farther still than that. He's lived a lot of places, been able to see the whole of America almost, and in the process, he's learned that he'll always be a small-town boy. The real revelation is how at home he feels in this two-bedroom cabin sequestered away from any town at all. Sure, he's got to drive a little over half an hour to get to the nearest grocery store, but he's learned he likes that.

He's got 1600 acres of woods all to himself and the dogs. He's owned this property for almost four years, but recent events made him finally move out here. Originally, he'd bought it to make it as another flip project, but something in his gut told him to make it a vacation home / safe haven for his family instead. Robin, mainly, as a getaway from the LA life and overwhelming spotlight she'd started to face as her music career took off. He might be turning it into his permanent home and base of operations, but everyone knows they're still welcome.

Anyway, the day might be warm for winter, but the night won't be, so Steve sets his thermos on the top of the wooden railing of the porch and heads down the steps to the woodshed. The plan in the summer is to update the cabin, which includes adding central air and a good heating system, but until then, portable heaters are in the bedrooms and the wood stove gets the rest of the cabin. There's also plans to start the construction on the guest house. It's going to be a busy summer.

He replenishes the woodpile on the porch from the woodshed and debates chopping more but decides against it. That can be a tomorrow chore. Next is cleaning up the snow paths he's made previously. Doesn't want anyone falling on their ass on the way to the house, no matter how funny that'll be to watch. As usual, Pancake makes the task difficult because she wants to play with the snow shovel. Melody cries until he throws snow into the air by the shovel full for her to play in. Chowder, old man that he is, supervises from the porch, front paws hanging just off the top step.

It's rough going but he manages to complete the few chores, even with two dogs underfoot.

Steve is on the front porch, forearms holding his weight as he leans against the railing, thermos of coffee between his hands, taking in the afternoon sun and enjoying the silence when Dustin's work truck slides into the driveway. Almost literally, given the foot and a half of snow still on the ground. The driveway is long, okay. Steve's doesn't have enough time in his day to keep up with salting it all.

It'll be strange to see Eddie after all these years. He still can't believe Robin got him to come. When he'd asked how she did it, she brushed him off with an it's not important.

Speaking of Robin, she's the first person out of the truck, sliding out of the passenger seat and then cursing when she drops right into the snow. She shoots an accusatory look towards the cabin, and therefore Steve, like he placed the snow there himself, when the fault is Dustin, who has left the driver side with plenty of room between the truck and the snowbank.

Dustin gets out of the truck and Steve faintly hears him say this side, man, less snow before pushing his door closed and turning to brace himself as Pancake and Melody rush from the porch to circle like sharks, barely restraining themselves from jumping up. Chowder follows after slowly, taking his sweet time getting to Robin, his favorite human. Steve can't even be jealous about that because Robin is his favorite human, too.

The back driver side door opens, and he watches as Eddie Munson all but falls out of the truck. It's the least graceful anyone's looked getting out of the back of the truck and that's counting Chowder and his old man hips. Seeing Eddie again is- well, it's a lot of emotions all at once, but they're are all overshadowed at the moment by how Eddie looks... well, bad. His hair is longer than Steve's ever seen it, a little longer than mid-back length, but it looks like it hasn't seen a proper hair brush in a couple of days. Even from this distance Steve can see the bags under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in days.

He pushes himself off the railing and meanders down the two steps, waiting for them to notice he's waiting. Robin trudges out of the snow berm and to the front of the truck, where Chowder is waiting patiently for his pets and kisses. Dustin has managed to get Melody to stop hopping in front of him so she can get her side scratches, and Pancake has realized there is a new, third person with a set of hands currently not petting her, and is circling Eddie, waiting for him to reach down and pet her but he just stands completely still, heading tracking her in her circles.

"She's friendly, I promise," Steve calls out, which makes Eddie's head snap up to look for the source of the voice. Well, everyone looks, but Eddie looks like he's seeing a ghost, which. Fair. Steve kind of feels the same way.

"Hello, Dingus," Robin calls as she stands from her crouched position, where she's been cuddling Chowder. As soon as she stands, he starts making his way back to the porch. "I have delivered one Edward Keaton Munson. You are not allowed to ask anything of me for, at minimum, a year."

"Steve! Why didn't you tell me you knew the Eddie Munson?" Dustin shouts.

Robin is scoffing, clearly offended. "Am I not famous enough for you Henderson!?"

"Get back to me when you've run a 24-hour Dungeons and Dragons live stream for charity!" Dustin shoots back, then has to dodge Robin's half-hearted punch aimed for his arm.

Eddie stays silent, looking more pale than when he got out of the truck. Steve's a little concerned he's going to faint.

"You been living under a rock, Dustin?" Steve asks. "My knowing him is apparently the only thing on the internet currently."

Dustin puts his whole head into the eye roll. "You spend a month backpacking with your girlfriend in the southern hemisphere and you never get to hear the end of it. I told you I'd catch up on your drama after I catch up on my DnD Live Plays."

"You also missed me winning a Grammy, you know."

"I thought Steve's thing was more important?"

"You are impossible, Henderson."

"You guys going to argue in the snow all afternoon, or do you want to come inside?" Steve says then places his fingers in his mouth and whistles. Melody and Pancake dash for the front door, where Chowder is already waiting. Dustin, Robin, and a still eerily quiet Eddie fall into line to walk the trail to the porch Steve had cleared.

Steve jumps the steps, grabs his thermos, lets the dogs in, and then holds the door for everyone else. Robin and Dustin breeze past, but Eddie slows, eyes jumping around Steve's face as they just look at each other for a moment. Eddie opens, then closes, then opens, then closes his mouth.

"Hi," Steve offers up, shifting a foot to hold the door open so he can wave his fingers at Eddie.

Eddie swallows thickly, then whispers back, "hey."

"In the house, Eddie. Don't want to let too much cold in," Steve tilts his head towards the doorway.

"Oh, right, sorry," that kick starts Eddie again and he crosses the threshold, Steve close behind.

Robin and Dustin are currently occupying the bench just inside the door, taking off their shoes. Once Dustin has his boots off, he leaves the bench, heading to the kitchen. Eddie seems lost, just standing in the entryway, so Steve takes the spot Dustin just left and proceeds to undo the laces on his boots. He gets one boot done by the time Robin stands, wandering after Dustin once she's hung up her coat, scarf, and gloves. Eddie doesn't move still, so Steve pats the empty spot beside him.

"No shoes in the cabin. Dogs track in enough snow, don't need us doing it too," Steve says, then busies himself with his other boot.

He sees Eddie sit and begin to untie his- jesus, he's not even wearing boots. Just a black pair of sneakers. Eddie unties his shoes in silence, sitting rather stiffly next to Steve.

This quiet, obedient Eddie is not what he expected.

"You want something to drink?" Steve asks, once both of them are free of their shoes.

"No, thank you."

"Alright. Have a seat, then," he gestures towards the couch. The cabin door opens up directly into the living area, which Steve has set up as 3/4th a living room and 1/4th dining room, in that a small kitchen table is along the far wall. Beyond that wall is the kitchen, where Robin and Dustin are undoubtedly helping themselves to his coffee or hot chocolate.

Eddie shuffles off to sit on the edge of the couch, as close to the armrest as he can get. Now that Steve can see him closer, he can see he's added more piercing to his face than just the eyebrow ring he wore in high school. Snake bites, a septum piercing, and a second eyebrow ring next to the original. He's sure that if Eddie's hair wasn't covering his ears, he'd see more metal there. Eddie had hung up the coat he'd been wearing but under that is a hoodie he didn't take off, so Steve can only guess if he ever got those tattoos he'd been planning in high school. His entire outfit is black, which just makes him look sickly in the cabin lighting.

Steve drops himself into the chair facing the couch. It's Melody's favorite chair to curl up in, but Steve thinks she'll forgive him for taking it. There's tension in the room, so he tries to break it. "You look like you've seen a ghost, dude."

Eddie makes a weird nose, almost a whimper or a whine, but before he can say anything, Robin rounds the wall, holding a mug of hot liquid and she says, "Oh, I'm sure he feels that he has. I didn't tell me we were coming to see you."

"Robin!" Steve is shocked.

"What? You said you wouldn't mind getting some closure, so I got him here. Does it matter how?" She takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Eddie, making a show of how comfortable she is in the space by sitting cross-legged and leaning back against the couch, in comparison to Eddie who is sitting up completely straight, barely on the couch with how close to the edge he's sitting.

"Yeah, it does! If he's not here voluntarily- if Eddie doesn't want to talk to me you can't-"

"I do," Eddie says. It grabs Steve and Robin's attention and Steve sees Eddie almost wilt under their twin stares. He clears his throat before continuing, "I mean, I would have come still, if she'd told me. I do want to talk to you. Apologize for.... for everything. So much I don't even know where to begin, or how."

"Uhh, this feels like something personal," Dustin says from where he's standing with his own mug, hovering nearby. "Should I be here for this?"

Good question. Steve doesn't care if Robin and Dustin hear what they talk about, but Eddie might. "How about we just relax a bit. How was the drive?"

Eddie scrunches his face, a half confused expression on his face.

"Fine," Robin says at the same time Dustin says, "Tense as fuck."

"Those two things don't seem like they match," Steve says.

Dustin moves to plop himself on the couch in between Eddie and Robin, then quietly curses as his drink sloshes over the edge of the mug. He starts mopping at it with the sleeve of his shirt as he says, "Robin is a liar. The tension in the truck is going to linger that's how bad it was. I'll be feeling the tension every time I get in the rig. Clients will feel the tension when I pull up to their curbs!"

"It was not that bad!" Robin swats Dustin. Successfully this time, since there's no way for him to dodge unless he wants to spill his drink again.

Steve just laughs. "Robs, light of my life, mate of my soul, knowing you and your grudges, Dustin's probably going easy on the description of the tension here."

"Well, there wouldn't be tension if I was allowed to say what I want to say."

"Can we go, like, five minutes without your negativity?"

"My negativity!? I'm not negative, I'm rational and level-headed!"

"You are not sounding very level-headed right now."

Dustin chimes in, "Steve's right. Level-headed people don't have to shout that they're level-headed."

"What say you, Eds?" Steve asks, the old nickname slipping out. He doesn't have time to be embarrassed about it though.

Eddie stands quickly and flings his hands in the air, having reached an invisible limit Steve is unaware of, pacing about the living room as he basically shouts, "Why don't you hate me!? You should hate me! I hate me! I can't- why are you just sitting there, trying to have a-a decent conversation with me? You should be screaming at me! You should be mad! Why aren't you? My fuckin' song ruined your life!"

The silence in the living room is heavy following that, all eyes on Eddie. Even the dogs, who had been in various states of sleep, lift their heads and look in Eddie's direction.

He looks mortified by the out burst, and his face turns red. "I-I'm sorry. I- I'm just, I'm sorry. I need air."

They all watch silently as Eddie jams his shoes back on and goes out the front door without tying them or grabbing his coat.

Steve sighs, deep and annoyed. At Robin and himself. He looks to Robin and she looks shocked by Eddie's outburst. She was watching the door, but turns her head to meet Steve's eye, a small frown on her face.

"Well, it's not like he's going far," Dustin says. "You going after him?"

"I don't know if I should."

Dustin scoffs. "Don't be an idiot, of course you should. We drug that guy to the middle of nowhere to talk to you. He agreed to come to the middle of nowhere even though I could have been a hit man hired by Robin to off him in the woods and he didn't even complain. Didn't even question. I don't know what happened, but I think you two need talk it over."

Steve blinks at Dustin. "Since when did you get so wise?"

"I've always been wise. You just refuse to see it with your ageism. Go. Robin can fill me in on the beef, here in the toasty, cozy cabin, while you two chat in the cold, and freeze your asses off."

"I don't have ageism-"

"Wrong argument to be having, Steve!" Dustin interrupts. "And take another cup of coffee with you. Even if he doesn't drink it, dude doesn't have gloves either so y'know, warm the hands."

Steve does just that. Fills his other thermos with coffee, taking a chance by adding cream and sugar, before putting his boots, coat, and beanie back on. He throws Eddie's coat over his arm and tucks both thermos' against his body with that same arm so he can have a free hand to open the door.

Eddie isn't far. He's pacing back and forth in front of the truck, talking to himself.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Steve steps off the porch and makes his way to Eddie. "Hey."

The pacing stops and Eddie turns to look at Steve. They just look at each other as Steve approaches. Steve doesn't stop until he's close enough to reach out and touch before he shuffles the two thermos's to his other arm and extends the one with Eddie's coat on it out.

"Thank you," Eddie says, taking the coat and shoving himself into it quickly.

"Brought you coffee, too," Steve holds out one thermos and after a pause, Eddie takes it, too, then almost instantly brings his other hand up to cradle it, warming his fingers.

He looks up from the thermos and meets Steve's eye. "I am sorry, Steve. I'm sorry for how things ended between us, and for the song I wrote, and for-for not thinking about how people would be able to work out that you were the Steve from Hey Steve. You should hate me for that alone. I'm so sorry for everything that's happened because I didn't think of the consequences."

"I don't- I don't hate you man. Not... not anymore. Not for a long time."

"Well, you should!"

Steve frowns. He wants to argue because who is Eddie to tell him how he should feel? But that's not going to help anything. "When Robin called me. During her interview after the Grammy's and asked if she could tell the truth I never- I didn't know what she meant by the truth. But. Well, nothing she said was a lie, but it wasn't the full story."

Eddie stays silent, seemingly waiting for Steve to continue.

"Those first two years after our breakup were- I'm not going to lie, they were fucking awful. I think I received my first bit of hate mail the very same day Hey Steve released. It was harsh. All from the same person, but sent to my Facebook and my Twitter and Instagram. Guess they really wanted me to read it.

"And then, with each passing day, a new person, new message, just as awful. After three days I deleted Instagram and Twitter. Then I locked down Facebook but like- physical letters showed up at my house. I can't lie, it certainly felt like you'd ruined my life."

Eddie makes a wounded sound at that. "That's because I did! What I did was unforgivable and-"

"You don't get to decide for me if I forgive you or not!" Steve snaps. "I haven't actually said I did forgive you, did I? All I've said is I don't hate you."

That gets Eddie quiet again for a moment, then he says, "you ended up hospitalized because of me."

"Robin said I ended up hospitalized, and that's true, but it wasn't- It was more complicated that just being your, and your fans', fault. For people who were supposedly on 'your side' of our breakup, they used a lot of homophobic language. That's how my mom found out. The letters were easy enough to just get rid of because all the bad shit was on the inside, but someone sent a post card, and mom collected the mail that day. It's... I don't like talking about this."

"Then don't," Eddie is quick to say, "you don't have to explain anything to me, or make yourself relive these events. It's- you don't owe that to me."

"I think I need to. I wrote you a song, said I'd do it all again, and I meant that. I want you to understand why. Just. Just give me a minute."

Eddie nods and takes a sip of his coffee. He looks pleasantly surprised and takes bigger drink before his face falls into a frown as he stares down at the thermos and Steve has to look away. He turns and squeezes his eyes shut to continue. "Mom showed the postcard to my father, and he confronted me that evening. It was.... it didn't start off bad. He asked if it was true. That I was gay. I made a choice, then. I didn't have to; I could have lied. I could have told him I was straight and that I didn't understand what the postcard was saying, but I didn't.

"I knew how he felt about queer people, and I told him the truth anyway. I was bisexual. I thought it was a miracle that he didn't kick me out instantly. Instead, he calmly asked me if that meant I liked woman. I said it meant I liked more than just woman.

"Then he told me that didn't matter. That so long as I liked woman, I would be with a woman, and that we never had to speak of this again. And I told him no. He didn't get to decide that for me. He said that he would rather have a dead son than a faggot one. And I thought- I never- surely he was just meaning, like, metaphorically, right? Like, he'd disown me, kick me out or something so I scoffed and said- God, I was so stupid. I knew it wasn't safe, but I was so angry at him, I shouted 'dead or alive, I'm your faggot son so deal with it.' And he- he said 'dead it is' and he attacked me."

He hears Eddie suck in a breath, hears the crunch of snow in what could only be Eddie taking a step towards him but stopping after just one step. Steve doesn't know if he wants Eddie to close the distance and give him the hug he knows Eddie wants to do. Steve doesn't know if he'd welcome the embrace or not. He sucks in his own shaky breath, and continues, "He almost beat me to death that night. The only reason he didn't was because mom dialed 911," Steve turns around, looks at Eddie and sees the tears falling down his own face reflected on Eddie. "As far as I know, dad's still serving time for his attempted murder, so like, at least I don't have to worry about him. And mom... I don't even know what to think of that.

"She called 911, didn't want to see me die, I guess, but also couldn't have a gay son. She sold the house, and everything in it, while I was still in the hospital, and just... disappeared. Robin's family took me in. She told that story during the interview, you knoe, but I wasn't even at the house when that guy with the gun showed up. I was meeting with a lawyer.

"She-Mom was- I don't know what she was trying to do but she gave me the family business. The whole company! It felt like she was trying to buy my forgiveness, except she didn't ask for it and still hasn't contacted me. It's like... she felt guilty about what happened but hated me at the same time. Felt she needed to do something to alleviate her guilt? Or maybe she just wanted to cut herself free of the whole Harrington name; free herself from me and my father. I don't think I'll ever get closure for that one."

Steve quits talking, needs to take another moment. He'd already rambled on about more than he meant to but talking to Eddie had always done that to him. Afterall, before they dated, they'd been friends. He sips at his coffee, not knowing what else to say.

"Jesus, Stevie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know- It's no excuse but I'm just so sorry."

He doesn't think Eddie knows he called him Stevie, but it's nice to hear. "So, see, it wasn't your fault. Your song set things into motion, for sure, so it's nice to hear an apology, but like, if anyone is the bad guy in this situation, it's Richard Harrington."

"But Robin said she just had to help you move to here. That you still get hate mail, and doxxed. That's on me. I saw your list of addresses, Steve! You've had to move, like, eight times a year!"

Steve can't help the cackle that springs from him. He surprises himself with the laugh, and Eddie, too, if his wide eyes and eyebrows hidden behind his bangs are any indication. "I- yeah, I move a lot. And yes, this most recent move was because of a brick with Hey Steve scratched into it broke my living room window, but like, I've only had to move because of harassment like, four times, if I'm counting the whole mom-selling-the-house thing."

"What?"

Steve holds up a finger, adding a new one as he counts them out. "Mom sold house. Scary gun guy at Robin's. The year anniversary of your first album's release. I was still in Hawkins, figuring out what to do with all the money I'd, uhh, inherited I guess, so I was easy to find. And the most recent one. Not sure what inspired it this time. Usually, the hate mail resurges when you go on tour, but it's less and less every time. Anyway, none of those other moves are because of crazy fans."

Eddie blinks at him, a picture of confusion. "But I found a YouTube video and that guy- he showed all your old addresses. He said- I thought..."

"Well, there are a lot of addresses. But not because of your fans. I move for my job. Do you... did you even read the truck?" Steve gestures to Dustin's truck and Eddie steps around to see the printed H&H Project Flip and below that is their website.

Eddie looks back to Steve like that answers nothing. Which, fair, but it would answer a lot of questions if Eddie had looked up the website. "After that surge of anniversary hate, I knew I needed to get out of Hawkins. Robin was graduated, then, and headed to college. I decided I wanted to see more than just Hawkins. I followed Robin to college in Chicago, and uh, bought a house. A real fixer upper but that was fine. I had plenty of money to throw into it. On a whim I thought, what if I try to fix it. I had a lot of free time and if it ended up badly, I could afford to pay a professional to fix whatever I broke. I found that I loved doing that."

He's still just being looked at like he's not making sense.

Steve rolls his eyes, "I flip houses, dude. Me and Dustin. Harrington and Henderson Project Flip. I was in Chicago for three years, lots of addresses for that city. But then Robin pointed out there were a lot of states. That I should see all 50 of 'em by renovating a house in each. She'd moved in with her then-girlfriend by this time, so she said I should go. See the States at the least. So, I did. I find it easier to just live in the house I'm renovating, so I'm not paying mortgage and then rent somewhere else in the same city."

Eddie looks like he's had a rug pulled out from under him and he lets out a laugh that's a little hysterical.

"And moving so much has allowed me to meet so many amazing people, y'know? I got friends in all the states. So, like, yeah, you did ruin my life, but like, just my life from 18 to 20. So, yeah, I'd do it all again. Did you think I've been living in perpetual misery for the last ten years?"

"Robin certainly made it easy to assume that, so yeah!"

"I think she did that on purpose. To hurt you back."

"I deserve it," Eddie says. "I didn't even try to check in on you. Well, once, but when I couldn't find you on any socials I just. Gave up."

Steve shrugs. "I didn't reach out either. And if you'll remember, I broke up with you. Screamed in your face that we were over and went home."

"I don't know when, or even if, Corroded Coffin will tour again, but I swear to you, we'll never play or release Hey Steve again. And I'll release a statement, or go on camera, or something, and address this. I can't make it right, but I can make a change starting now, to do better and be better," Eddie says this while gripping his thermos to death.

"I believe you, and I forgive you."

Eddie nods grimly, then looks from Steve to the cabin, and back to Steve. "Do you think Robin will ever forgive me?"

"I don't know. You hurt her pretty badly, too. We were all best friends in school and when we broke up, you cut off Robin, too. And then, when she started to gain her own fame- I think when she first moved to LA, she thought you'd try to reach out. But you never did."

A silence falls over them, and Steve refuses to break it. He's done enough talking. They drink their coffees 'til they're empty before Eddie speaks.

"Where does this leave us?"

Steve thinks about it before answering. "You were my best friend before you were my boyfriend. You'd been in my life longer than you've been out of it. We don't have to be anything. We can have our closure and go our separate ways, if you'd prefer. But, I think I'd like another chance at being your friend."

"I can do friend," Eddie says slowly, like he's picking his words carefully. "I can. But, full transparency, I think I still love you."

It hurts to hear, after all the pain and the time, and it's a bittersweet kind of hurt. "I'll always love you, Eds. I meant it, you know, every word of the song. But I don't know if we can, or should, try again. We were so good until we weren't."

Tears spring from Eddie's eyes when Steve says he loves him, and they don't stop falling even as he's nodding along with everything Steve says. "No, I know. I know. I just, I needed you to know. Friend is, it's so fucking great. More than I ever expected, and certainly more than I dared hope."

"Come on. Let's go inside where it's warm and chat with Dustin and Robin like civilized people. I need a break from the heavy talk."

"Yeah. Me too. Thank you, Steve. For the chance."

Steve shrugs and shoots him a crooked grin. "Yeah, well, ruin this a second time and Robin will rip you to shreds on live TV, probably."

There's more to talk about. More hurts to heal and things to discuss, Steve knows. And maybe after all the talking, they'll learn they've changed too much to even be friends. But that'll be okay, because if that's how it goes, it'll be because they talked it out instead of screaming at each other in a living room.

If they've changed too much, this time, it'll end gently.

It doesn't stop Steve from letting a little bit of hope in. That this won't end, that they can find a way to be in each other's lives again.

As friends, or more.

#steddie #my fic #the interview #prepare yourself for the whiplash of a full tonal shift in the story as we switch to steves POV #tw: homophobia #tw: assault #Steve discusses his assault/subsequent hospitalization. I tried to not go into too much detail but proceed with caution if thats a trigger #there is also the use of the word faggot as a slur #also! there is a point where steve casually says robin has a girlfriend #this is NOT an accidental outing. Robin is an out and proud lesbian singer/song writer/grammy winner #also.... maybe there will be an epilogue? I am debating.#if you wanna be informed on the epilogue #subscribe to the fic on ao3 cause it'll alert you if i add another chapter

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mythsandheather · 11 months ago

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So, that latest chapter, right? Apollo of all people is standing on business and pointing out flaws with everyone that are almost word for word what we critics say, yet still include shitty over the top misogyny, and as @genericpuff pointed out, this is likely not unintentional.

What a bizarre choice to use your r*pist character as the mouthpiece “gotcha” moment for the thousands of people who want you to make your comic less abusive, racist, classist, sexist, homophobic and all round harmful. And at your big age, Rachel, of 37.

You sure showed us.

#antiloreolympus #lo critical #lore olympus critical #lo criticism #anti lore olympus #lore olympus criticism #anti lo #tw: assault

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aestariiwilderness · 2 months ago

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TW: GRAPHIC, GORE, CHILD MURDER. More included in the source; I wish I had not seen.

This is heartbreaking. When you need to coin a new word for the evil Hamas rejoiced in. Torturing, mutilating, and killing infants and children in front of parents; torturing, mutilating, and killing parents in front of children. Burning families alive.

There is no justification for this.

This was evil, plain and simple. Everyone who supports Hamas also supports this. Hamas will die -- as an idea and as a group. It's inevitable. When the name is spit on or forgotten in history books, and cowards round the globe hastily distance themselves from what they so fanatically supported not so long ago -- when all that happens, Israel will still be there.

But in the meantime, if you can look at crimes like this and still support Hamas, still insist Israel has no right to exist, still insist Israel doesn't have the right to win a war she didn't start -- May God have mercy on you. (Hamas won't.)

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damien-thedoctor · 2 months ago

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"monster you have made me."

damien backstory.

TW: ASSAULT and VIOLENCE

words: 600 - 1k

“HOLD IT DOWN!”

[One guard shouted, grabbing at the chains that bound the struggling person. There were cries of pain and sounds of something thrashing around wildly]

“NONO YOU HAVE THE WRONG PERSON, IT WASN’T ME- IT WASN’T ME-”

[SMACK.]

[The sound echoed throughout the chamber, and a choked sob escaped the poor man’s lips as he was thrown to the floor like he was just a creature to be used and abused.]

“st..op… I didn’...t… do.. Any..thing.. *Hic*….”

[More people entered the room, somebody was carrying a tray which they set down only a few feet away from the raven haired male that was cowering on the floor.]

“Get up.”

[The man who was in front of everyone else said, there was a feeling about him that made Damien’s blood turn to ice.]

“Sir.. p..please.. You know I didn’t do any-”

[SMACK.]

[He was violently thrown against the ground, now being held down in a chokehold by the other scientist. He could feel his tears dripping down his cheeks as he sobbed, it hurt not to breathe. It was like his lungs were on fire. Everything hurts. Damien tried to take one last gulp of air when-]

[He let go and Damien’s head smacked down against the floor, chest heaving desperately]

“We need him alive for this Mr {REDACTED}. We can’t just use his corpse.”

[Great, so it wasn’t only humanity as to why they kept him alive, they needed him for something.]

[Dr {REDACTED} approached Damien and tilted his head up so they were staring eye to eye don’t touch me]

“Now, Mr Scot , do you know what you’re here for?”

[His tone was different, Damien realised. A tone of sweet manipulation.]

[Just nod and behave. Act like you understand, be obedient.]

“..yes sir..”

[He could see just behind Dr {REDACTED} they were prepping a serum. It was a mix of reddish pink. It made Damien’s eyes hurt.]

“If all goes well, you should be free from any punishment today. If not then we’ll have your grave ready for you.”

[And then he was violently held down again-getoffgetoffgetoffgetoff-]

[He saw the doctor raise up the serum and then it was pressed into his neck, everything went black. But he wasn’t unconscious. No he could only see black, it was pain beyond pain he had ever felt, were those claws? He stared down at his hand, there were claws. Fangs? They ripped through part of his lip. Horns? Tail? What was happening. It felt like it was all ripping through his body, shredding his senses apart.]

[There were shouts from all around him, and then something was on top of him- get OFF.]

[He screamed, it felt like his lungs were on fire.]

[He felt hands that grabbed onto his legs, his tail. Feeling him, touching him.]

[He kicked out, felt someone grunt in pain and scrambled to the wall away from everyone as fast as he possibly could. He had hooves. What had these fuckers done. WHAT DID THEY DO.]

“It worked.”

[He was hungry, he wanted flesh. He craved it.]

[He had given Dr {REDACTED} a nosebleed. That was who had been on top of him- touching him. Grabbing him. He could feel the marks he had left.]

[he snarled, tail lashing furiously. The way Dr {REDACTED} was looking at him made him want to hide. He felt like prey. No. He was prey.]

[He sobbed, blood ran from his mouth as his throat convulsed. There was no vomit only blood.]

[There were more researchers, they had clipboards and were taking notes.]

[Stop looking at me.]

[He wanted to kill but all he could do was cry, it was pathetic. He didn’t want them to touch him. He wanted them to leave him alone.]

[Everything was just ringing inside his ears, he was having trouble hearing. There were alarms blaring, red lights. more guards were grabbing at the chains that bound around his neck. Pulling on it so his already horrible vision blackened worse.]

[He sobbed so hard he passed out, he didn’t know what happened after that.]

[When he woke up, he was in his cell again. Back in hell. He wished that they would have just killed him.]

[There was a note and fresh clothes beside him.]

[He shredded the note to bits.]

#damien scot #tw: assault #damien #damien-the-doctor

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aftgficrec · 2 months ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you know of any fics that explore the friendship between Andrew and Kevin? Especially how they became close after Kevin came to the Foxes with a broken hand. I just think their friendship is so interesting, and I am so curious about how it started. Thank you!

@lynntjeeee and @sayonara-you-weeaboo-shits: These asks overlapped, so we combined them and separated fic types with subheads. The last ones under ‘you may also like’ don’t fit neatly but still hold the main ideas found in pre canon Kevin & Andrew stories. Unfortunately most are not very long. -A

also see:

‘a foxhole collection…’ Chapter 30 here

‘The gentle violence of loving you’ and ‘I Don't Know How to Breathe’ here

‘I came for the safety (stayed 'cause you made me feel)’ here

‘Searchlights’ here

‘Trust Me’ here

you may also like:

higher ground by darkoceanbottom [Rated T, 6085 Words, Complete, 2021]

Kevin Day and identity.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: canonical character death

Roaring Like Beasts Full Of Rage by Sashe [Rated E, 30713 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

The PSU Foxes' luck takes a turn when they take in the Raven's injured goalkeeper Andrew Doe. Andrew isn't exactly happy to be there, treated as a spectacle by the media, an outcast by his new team and a let down by the family that never wanted him. He's especially not happy about the new striker recruit, who no one else seems to think is supicious. or Roleswap canon divergent where Raven!Andrew has a broken hand and Wymack has been raising Kevin.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced psychological abuse, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: panic attacks

The Truth Hurts Worse by mcmeasle [Rated T, 2742 Words, Complete, 2024]

Kevin chattered on as Andrew opened the door and tuned out the cadence of his voice, Kevin’s full attention on Andrew. Immediately, Andrew locked on to the man with bright red hair sitting in his desk chair, feet thrown on top of the desk with ankles crossed, tapping an impressive looking knife blade over his fingertips. “Welcome home,” the stranger said cheerily, a sharp smile wending its way onto his lips, icy blue eyes locked onto Andrew. —- Or Butcher!Neil makes a house call

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

decline of the empire by drewdrugs [Rated T, 1507 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2024]

Kevin embraced the idea that, even he had never been taught by his father, he was learning to lose now. The structures of his coliseum were crumbling and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. This time, Andrew couldn't do anything for him. Or at least that's what he believed.

tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm

NB: this last one is the culmination of Kevin & Andrew’s deal from the very beginning

Interesting by ashestoashes7 [Rated T, 6632 Words, Complete, AFTG 2024 Olympics]

Andrew decided to make the Exy Olympic Finals more interesting. No one else knew what to do with that, not even his own teammates, but Andrew and boredom was a recipe for the unexpected. After all, it was not every day a goalkeeper slammed the ball down the court and bathed the opposition in red.

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wordingg · 1 month ago

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Revenge Is Cold Comfort

Dead Boy Ween Day Two ~ Prompt: Comfort

Summary: Charles and Edwin go to a park to see some ducks and Charles gets into a fight.

AN: check the tags on this one, just in case. there is comfort, but you gotta make it to the end!

It was a rare day that saw Charles and Edwin spending time together without Crystal about. But, as she had so firmly told them "these curls don't maintain themselves" and had warned them in no uncertain terms not to bother her while she was at the salon or she would "punt them directly into the sun" they decided to honor her wishes and give her a day to herself.

So, Charles and Edwin found themselves with a whole day to fill, with no pressing cases to work on and no Crystal to bother.

After a few minutes of the both of them puttering around the office uselessly, Charles said, "We haven't had a day out ourselves in, God..." Charles looked up at the ceiling like it would have his answer.

"Not since April," Edwin helpfully supplied. That day had been quite lovely. Charles and Edwin had attended a performance of Shakespeare in the park and then spent the afternoon in a nearby combination coffee shop / bookstore where Edwin was able to peruse both the interesting people and the new releases just put on the shelves.

"Right. That's way too long, probably," Charles said with a wrinkle of his nose. "Let's go out!" he said, clapping his hands and grinning at Edwin devilishly. Edwin firmly told his heart to go back where it belonged and stop trying to climb up his throat. Charles looked quite devious, but he often did. It didn't require that kind of reaction from him of all people.

Swallowing, Edwin turned on his heel to grab his coat and shrugged it on. "Capital idea, Charles. Lead the way."

They ended up in a park a bit farther away from the office than Edwin had expected. "I want to see the ducks!" Charles had insisted when Edwin asked why he had picked that particular park. He supposed that was as good a reason as any. Ducks were perfectly pleasant to look at.

It was a clear and warm autumn day, the strong buttery sunshine chasing off most of the chill. That being the case, the park was full of people, despite it being the middle of a weekday. True to his word, Charles went straight for the duck pond, crouching down at the edge and gazing intently at the ducks swimming in lazy curves along the flat mirror like surface of the water.

"D'you ever think it's odd that only cats can talk?" Charles asked idly as he frowned at a particularly round mallard duck that looped around to point one beady dark eye at him suspiciously. "I feel that if cats of all creature can talk, surely ducks can too."

Edwin frowned down at Charles. He looked again at the especially rotund duck who was apparently engaged in a serious staring competition with Charles. Sometimes, even after thirty-eight years of living together, Edwin still had no idea what went on inside Charles' head. When Charles wasn't speculating about the communication abilities of aquatic birds, Edwin could appreciate Charles' unique way of thinking as an asset to the agency and something to be admired. It was hard to remember that while he was staring down a duck.

"I'm certain I have no idea," Edwin muttered, despairing at the thought of what the rest of the day had in store for him. Hopefully not more ducks.

Whatever Charles was about to say in response was cut off by the sound of a loud smack just behind them. Before Edwin had even fully turned around, Charles was on his feet and walking fast.

Only a dozen feet away was the apparent source of the sound. A large man holding a now crying little girl by her upper arm and whispering fiercely at her. His free hand was still raised threateningly and she was holding her steadily reddening cheek in one little hand, her big brown eyes welling over with shining tears. It didn't take a detective to put the sound and the scene together and realize what had happened.

"Oi!" Charles shouted, still stalking toward the scene.

"Charles," Edwin called, hurrying after them. "They can't hear you," he said, already knowing that it didn't matter.

Charles got right up into the man's face, squaring up like he was ready for a fight. "Oi, you wanna do that again, mate?" he spat.

The man didn't react, of course. He couldn't see them. But, the little girls' eyes got even bigger as they focused on Charles and the way he had pushed himself between her and the man.

"Are you listening to me, you little brat?" the man shouted, giving the girl a hard shake.

"Get your FUCKING hands off her!" Charles shouted, giving the man a hard shove. The man went flying backward, his eyes now almost as big as the little girl.

When the girl stumbled, Edwin stepped in smartly to catch and right her before she could fall. She gasped at his touch and he took his hands away quickly. He understood that touching a ghost could be quite unpleasant for the living, but he didn't want to let the little girl fall either.

She turned her big wet brown eyes up at Edwin and he felt his heart melt a little despite himself. Her tears had stopped, but her cheek was already starting to swell, the poor thing. He tried his best to give her a reassuring smile and held his index finger up in front of his mouth.

"Oh," she said faintly and then nodded. She shuffled a little closer to him and Edwin tried not coo at her.

Just a few feet away, the man was shouting and cussing up a storm as Charles kicked his feet out from under him every time he tried to stand up. A small knot of people had gathered around to watch, a few of them with their smartphones out to record what to them likely looked like a man flailing about wildly and somehow failing over and over to gain his feet.

After almost a full two minutes of that, someone finally noticed the little girl standing back with a swollen red cheek and tear tracks on her face. A kind looking middle aged woman who had been watching the man in concern glanced over, her eyebrows shooting up her forehead as she saw the girl. She hurried over and physically put herself between the man and the girl, which Edwin approved of.

"Hello, dearie," she said as she knelt down to the little girl's level. She had a bit of a northern accent and she smiled kindly at the little girl. Edwin watched her closely, cataloging her appearance and temperament (the woman was wearing a cardigan, she had a purse and sensible shoes, she was wearing a wedding ring on her left hand third finger, the edge of a tattoo peaked out from beneath her collar) and found nothing to raise his concern. "How did you get hurt? Are you all right? Are your parents here somewhere?" the woman asked.

Behind them, Charles had stopped tripping the man and a few good samaritans had stepped forward to ask if he was having a seizure or a stroke and if they should call the paramedics. The man seemed shaken and confused and was having trouble answering.

The little girl looked up at Edwin questioningly. "I think you can trust her," Edwin said quietly. "Tell her the truth."

The little girl nodded seriously and then turned back to the woman. She was looking up at Edwin with a frown, but obviously couldn't see him. Her attention went right back to the girl when she looked at her.

"That's my uncle, Samuel," the girl said very clearly, pointing over the woman's shoulder at the man still slumped on the ground. "He smacked me for getting my dress dirty," she said sadly, fingering a little spot of mud on the end of her skirt.

"Wanker," Charles spat, stepping up behind Edwin. The girl's eyes flew to Charles and his own widened in surprise. "Oh! Uh, I mean. What a meanie?" Charles looked desperate to Edwin for help.

Edwin gave Charles an unimpressed look. "Really, Charles."

"Right. Sorry," Charles winced in apology. He turned back to the little girl to give her a big warm smile, the kind of smile that Edwin sometimes felt might be burnt onto the back of his eyelids because it was so bright and unforgettable. "Don't you worry about him, love. He won't be bothering you anymore, I don't think."

The woman, unaware of this little exchange, was already on her cellular device talking to emergency services. She had her arm tucked around the little girl's waist and was shooting nervous glances at the man who still seemed not to remember to look for his niece. Edwin thought this was quite right. It was gratifying to know that there were still good people in the world who would step in to do the right thing, whether he and Charles were there or not.

"Are you fairies?" the little girl asked Charles with her big shining eyes focused entirely on him.

"What?" the woman asked, a little shocked. She looked toward where Charles and Edwin were standing with concern and then demanded into her small rectangular telephone "Please hurry! She's in shock, the poor thing."

Edwin wrinkled his nose at the implication that he and Charles might be fey. "Absolutely not," he declared. "If you ever see a real fairy, do not speak to them. They are quite insufferable," Edwin informed her seriously. He and Charles had more than a few run in with fairies over the years of working cases and every one down the last was the most awful bit of nonsense he had ever had the misfortune of coming across.

"We're ghosts. Ghost detectives, actually," Charles explained. He then elbowed Edwin, which Edwin felt was quite uncalled for. "Give her our card, mate," he said with a smile.

Huffing, Edwin pulled one of their enchanted business cards from the inside pocket of his coat and offered it to the little girl. She took it very carefully, looking down at it like it was magic, which Edwin supposed it was. Luckily the woman had been too busy watching two police officers approach at a fast walk to notice the card appearing in the little girl's hand.

"You can tuck that business card into an envelope with a letter and then put it under your bed and it will be delivered to us," Edwin informed her.

"Or you can call the number on there," Charles said, pointing to the phone number printed neatly under their address. "We have one now. Right handy, it is," he said with a smile.

Edwin looked up at the clear blue sky and took a deep breath. A phone number just didn't have the same gravitas as a magical business card that could summon the dead postman who delivered their mail, but he couldn't begrudge Charles anything. Even ruining a good moment.

"Yes, or you can use the telephone number," Edwin sighed.

"Thank you," the little girl whispered, before the two police approached her and the woman and they were both pulled into a serious conversation about what had just happened.

Charles and Edwin stayed in the park for a long time. They watched the police talk to the little girl, and then more police arrived to speak to her uncle, and then more police arrived to put her uncle in the back of a vehicle in handcuffs, and finally the girl's mother, still dressed in an apron and non-slip shoes, ran crying through the park to scoop her daughter up in her arms. The nice older woman also stayed the whole time. Edwin had privately begun to think of the three of them as the little girl's volunteer security team. She certainly looked at all three of them like she trusted them to keep her safe. That was a feeling that Edwin would cherish for a long time.

The sun was setting by the time that the last of the police and the crowd of onlookers finally dispersed. The ducks, who had been avoiding the side of the duck pond that had been host to so much chaos, finally returned to swimming lazy half circles in the water near the edge.

Charles sat in the short brown grass watching them. Edwin wanted to scold him for sitting on the bank that was surely more duck feces than it was grass, but knew that it didn't really matter. It wasn't as if Charles' clothing could get dirty from something as mundane as duck poop.

After a long time spent with the two of them staring morosely at the ducks, Charles said, "Sorry for losing it there for a bit."

"Quite understandable," Edwin assured him quietly. He peaked at Charles from the corner of his eye. He was frowning at the shining surface of the pond, his eyes not tracking any of the ducks, his hands fisted in the material of his pants.

"It's not," he bit out. "If I was smart, I would have looked out for the little girl instead of just-" Charles bit off whatever he meant to say. Edwin actually heard his teeth click together as he did it. "You had your priorities straight. You kept her safe," Charles said, finally turning to look at Edwin. His eyes shined too much in the warm orange light of the sunset, betraying the tears swimming at the edges of his dark curling eyelashes.

Warning lights were going off in Edwin's head. This subject was a minefield and Edwin was uniquely unqualified to navigate it. He never knew what the right thing to say was, when emotions were involved. He barely knew the right thing to say when they weren't.

But, Charles looked so beautiful and tragic in the fading light of autumn, that Edwin knew he must try, come what may.

Hesitantly, Edwin reached out and placed his hand over Charles'. He carefully pulled the hand loose from his pants and weaved his fingers between his friend's. He looked down at their fingers twined together, because he felt if he looked at Charles' face he would never be able to put his thoughts together.

"Perhaps I stayed with the girl, but the only reason I could do that was because I knew I could trust you to keep that man away from her," Edwin said.

Charles made a strange sound and Edwin looked up at him. The tears had escaped and were running down Charles' cheeks, spectral fluid glowing a pale blue in the fading sunlight.

"Charles, you are kind, and strong, and most of all compassionate. I would never disparage you for being yourself, because I love the person that you are," Edwin said firmly.

And then he wrapped his arms around his best friend in the world and let him cry onto his shoulder as the sun sank below the horizon and the ducks finally left the pond to find their own place to roost.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #fanfiction #dead boy ween #deadboyween #post canon #prompt fill #hurt/comfort #friendship #pining #tw: child abuse #tw: assault #tw: childhood trauma #wordinggwrites

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mayasdeluca · 2 months ago

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Stefania's Meet and Greet at ECC2

#stefania spampinato #carina deluca #station 19 #ecc2 #tw: assault #it really irritates me how they used that assault plot as basically just a one off to have carina 'bond' with jack #just to make him more usable as their sperm donor #like do they not realize how sickening and gross that is???#the fact that stefania didn't even remember it like...wow

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inkblot22 · 7 months ago

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Can You Keep A Little Secret 3

Someone call somebody, because Epel beat my ass while I was writing this chapter. I thought I had it drafted perfectly and then I reread what I had and was like what is this?? So this is maybe the most edited thing on this blog, hooray! Real talk, though, his rabbit suit is the cutest thing ever and I want to put flowers in his hair. Dividers by @/cafekitsune.

This fic is aimed towards sort of everyone, but the reader possesses afab features. This is important in this chapter, but as it is a reincarnation fic, the fic is aimed at anyone who can handle it. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns!

TW for threatening behavior, mention of death, violence (reader gets tossed around a bit), strangulation, semi-shy reader, AFAB reader, NONCON, DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, pregnancy mention, degrading language used towards reader

Link to previous chapter here!

Epel doesn’t even mention it. You keep your interactions professional, go over your lines at home, and this proceeds for the first week.

He’s called you a few times, sent a few messages. You changed his name in your phone to “Epel Fucko.” It makes you giggle, at least. That’s about the only funny thing.

Over the week, you ignore every single call and message from Epel. On Thursday, it feels like he’s finally gotten the message, since he stops trying. When he’s at work with you, the two of you are hardly alone, if ever. He’s as sweet as pie as long as there’s at least one pair of outward eyes on your interactions. You sleep alright on Thursday and Friday.

As usual, on the weekend, your new mother comes by, but this time she isn’t alone. She’s got groceries with her, and attached to the groceries is Epel, who she seems absolutely taken with. She’s beaming as she walks in, and when you go to help her with dinner, she shoos you away.

“Go entertain your guest! I can handle myself in here.”

He’s not your guest, but you don’t want to find out what she’s like when she’s annoyed, so you go to the living room, making sure you’re seated within sight of the kitchen. The apartment isn’t big, but you’re not taking any chances.

Epel smiles sweetly at you and shows you his palm, “Lemme see your phone?”

“Why?”

“You ain’t been picking up. Just wanna make sure I don’t gotta get you a new one.”

“It’s not broken.”

Epel’s face twitches, that little microexpression that you notice but can’t observe. He smiles and leans back, resting his ankle on his knee.

“I get it.” You’re certain he doesn’t, but you don’t get the chance to retort when he continues speaking in that overly-innocent tone of voice, “Your mom’s real sweet.”

You have half a mind to think that might be a threat, but surely it couldn’t be. Threats are for fantasy stories, best left in books of espionage and diplomacy and magic. You nod, sighing.

“I think I’d be dead without her, haha.”

“Mmm.” Epel hums, as though he’s disinterested, and changes the subject, “It’s odd to see you not all dolled up.”

“Uh…”

“It’s nothing bad. I think it’s a good change, really. All of this is.”

“Thank… you?” You don’t know how to respond to any of this.

“You’re welcome.” He glances at the wall and squirms in his seat, “You, uh, haven’t replaced your television yet.”

You didn’t know you had a television. It dawns on you, as you shake your head, that Epel could literally have made up anything and is testing you, but you shake that thought off. It’s more ridiculous than the idea of him threatening your mother.

Speaking of, she exits the kitchen with some amazing looking stir-fry. She hands you your plate and frowns at your proximity to where Epel is sitting.

“You can sit closer. I don’t judge. My, it almost makes me miss your father… and then I remember what he’s like, ahaha!” She jokes, walking back into the kitchen.

Epel smiles, but he’s looking at your plate. He looks confused.

Your mother fills the air with chatter. Since you don’t know much about her, it’s very welcome. At least her talking gives you a distraction from the unwanted guest in your home.

You don’t know why Epel decided to visit you today. Well, slight correction- you do know, you just don’t understand his audacity. What gave him the right to barge in like this, especially after you were very deliberately ignoring him?

Your mother heaves a sigh and gathers the dishes, “Well, let me clean up and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

You stand up and try to help with the dishes, half-hoping to convince the woman to take Epel with her when she leaves, but she shoos you out of the kitchen again. It figures that you’ll have to face your problem head on.

Epel looks about as comfortable as can be, sitting on your couch. He has a tendency to look somewhat stiff in public, but right now he’s leaned back, his legs spread and his toes wiggling in his socks. His eyebrows tick upwards as you stop right in front of him.

You swallow warily, “Uh, it’s getting sort of late.”

“It is.”

You know he understood what you meant. You can’t really trust your mother to be on your side here, however, so you refrain from telling him to stop acting smart, “Yeah, uh… early morning tomorrow?”

As Epel smirks at you as though you’ve just told a very adorable joke, your mother breezes out of the kitchen, “Ta ta, kids! Don’t have too much fun without me!”

About as soon as the door closes, you feel like you need to leave if Epel won’t. Although common sense would tell you not to poke the bear, you don’t have much of a choice, “Epel, it’s time for you to leave.”

Epel doesn’t respond, not immediately. He flexes his hands, cracks his knuckles, and rests his ankle on his knee before his lips quirk into a smile, “You remember the last time we were alone like this?”

The words freak you out more than they have a right to. You can feel your face cycling through various expressions- you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re angry, you’re distressed- and Epel laughs.

“I know you don’t.” He says, standing up. He’s not much taller than you, but he’s somehow looking down the bridge of his nose at you. “If you did, you’d have left with your ma.”

You don’t like that smug, smirky look on his face. You don’t like the way he acts, you don’t like the way he treats you. You don’t like him, point blank period. Your eyes narrow and your lip curls, and you can’t help the scowl, “You know, you’re right. Have fun in my apartment, Epel.”

You take two steps back from him and fight back a shiver when he begins giggling. You walk backwards towards the door and he just watches you, laughter peppering the air. As soon as you have your back against the door and your hand on the knob, his laughter dies down and he sighs.

“‘Course.” He drawls, taking a step forward. “I mean… any pretty thing like you would probably not want to be in a room with me after what I did to you.”

“Wh-what?”

Epel’s eyes narrow in some slight disbelief, “You really don’t remember?”

“I-”

His expression twists a little further, then smooths into neutrality. He hums, thoughtful, “What college did I go to?”

You furrow your eyebrows, twisting the knob a little bit. Epel’s expression grows more and more confused.

“Hmm. Somethin’s off about you. Has been for a little while now.” He mumbles, shapely lavender eyebrows furrowed.

“N-no, I’m me, I just-”

“How long have we known each other?”

You don’t have an answer. You have no answer. You balk and Epel grabs you by your collar and drags you away from the door. You kick and struggle, clawing at his hands, but he’s unfortunately stronger than he looks as he dumps you on the floor of your bathroom then crouches to get in your face.

And then he’s standing and scrubbing a hand down his face, his back to you as he mumbles to himself. He stalks to the mirror and wrenches it open. You didn’t even know it did that.

“You only took one.” His voice is cold, and he turns to pin you with a glare, “But you’re acting a lot better than you was.”

“O-one what? Epel, you’re scaring me. I’m gonna call the cops.”

Epel laughs in your face and stalks towards you. His posture is all wrong, he looks like some kind of feral animal, and then he grips the front of your shirt and yanks, “What would you tell them? I’d love to know.”

“Y-you’re threatening my wellbeing by acting erratic!”

He looks unimpressed, jostling you once, “I’m acting erratic? I used to be the polite one! And now you… you don’t got none of your memories and you’re sweeter’n pie. People don’t change like that, honey, not without a little help. You’re smart enough to know that.”

“What are you talking about? What did you pull out of the medicine cabinet?” Your voice is warbling, like you’re trying to speak to the tune of a theremin.

Epel shoves you back, your back hitting the bathtub, before picking a weekly pill case out of the medicine cabinet. His slender fingers pull out a pearlescent pill from the case and hold it up to the vanity so the light frames it. He’s very picturesque, but this isn’t something sweet or wonderful. You’re absolutely certain he’s going to fuck you up tonight, and you don’t know how you’re going to get out of this yet. You shuffle so you’re standing, and Epel turns to you, an eerie smile on his pretty face. He’s in-between you and the door.

“Do you know what these are?” He shows you the pill.

You shake your head. You don’t know what that is. Epel clucks his tongue and mockingly pouts.

“This,” He takes a step forward and places the pill in his palm, looking down at it, “is what your daily multivitamin looks like. I remember, because you made a big deal about it when you were first put on them. Do you remember?”

You don’t answer. It’s not like you needed to, really, since Epel is once again carrying the conversation.

“Of course you don’t. The self-centered brat I know would never miss an opportunity to make themselves prettier at the cost of actual beauty. And you are not the self-centered brat I knew. You’re someone else.”

“I-”

“Don’t worry. Let me finish, and then I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do.” He shows you the pill again. “This is not your daily multivitamin. If you were the person who lived here, the one I’ve known for five some-odd years, you would also know that I went to NRC.”

“The mage school?” You ask blankly.

“Mmm-hmm. Very good. I was placed in Pomefiore. It’s a dorm there, bunch’a frills and shit, all obsessed with beauty… and poison.”

“Y-you-”

“Ah-ah! I ain’t done, sugar. Now, I knew something fishy was going on when you weren’t wearing a pound of makeup last week, but I figured it was what I intended to be a… soothing powder, of sorts, at work. Now that I know you ain’t been taking them, well…”

“Y-you poisoned them?”

Epel’s eyes narrowed sharply at you. Normally his features are very soft and welcoming, but his piercing blue gaze is nothing but dangerous now. “So you admit it.”

It’s not a question. It’s a blunt statement, the only fluctuation in his voice having been placed there by his accent. You inch along the wall and he turns to watch you. As you reach the door, you think he’s maybe going to lunge at you, but instead he delicately covers his mouth and snickers. His shoulders shake and he begins to giggle, which evolves into full blown hysterical laughter.

You twist the handle and over-estimate, falling a bit backwards as the door swings open. If you survive tonight, your neighbors are going to be pissed. You quickly scramble to your feet and rush for your phone. There is no house phone here, and you wonder why you didn’t bring your cellphone with you when you went to the door.

You don’t make it to the living room, since Epel tackles you to the floor. His laughter echoes in your apartment like some kind of haunting song, the tolling of the bells before a funeral. You shriek, your eyes filling with tears as his arm curls around your neck.

“E-Epel, I’m sorry, I’m sorry that whoever I was acted mean to you, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me-”

His laughter rises, “Shut the hell up and stay still.”

You do as he says, despite you wanting to keep pleading, because his arm has constricted around your throat and you’re choking. The guttural noises escaping you are a combination of your terrified sobs and broken gasps for air. Epel wrestles you so you’re standing and then drags you into your bedroom, shoving you so you’re splayed out on the rug next to your bed.

“I always dreamed of seeing you… the real you with that cute look on your face, the one that screams, ‘Oh, help me! Anyone, save me!’ Distress. Like your little heart is breaking.” He straddles you and puts his hand over your face, grinning. “I always wanted to see you like this. Too bad you’re just the unfortunate bystander to years of rivalry, huh? Guess it makes sense that you seemed spacey.”

“E-Epel- Epel, p-please don’t do this. I’ll leave you alone, I promise, I-”

“What is ‘this’?” His voice is teasing, a cruel little smirk on his face as he leans so his hands are cuffing your wrists to the floor. “What do you think I’m gonna do?”

“Y-you’re gonna kill me again…?” You sound so small. Like a mouse, or something of the like.

Epel covers his mouth again as he laughs, eyes shutting in mirth and then he leans close to your ear. You can hear him moving, hear the saliva in his throat as he swallows, and the moisture on his breath hits your ear, making your skin prickle, “Do you want me to kill you again?”

You shake your head, desperate for this second chance at life. You already died, and there was nothing until you woke up. You didn’t even realize it, thinking you were just asleep before. You’re stressed out, but you want the chance for things to get better.

“Mmm. Good.” Epel draws back a bit and places his hands on your waist, his thumbs pushing a bit too hard against your skin, “Here’s what we’re gonna do, honey. I am going to fuck you-”

“No! No, no, no, please-”

Epel smacks the rest of your plea out of your mouth. Your cheek stings and he lowers his hand, smiling sweetly, “As I was saying, I am going to fuck you until we both know you’re pregnant. We’re going to announce that we’re together, we’re going to be together. Because you’re not who I knew, I like you more than the person I knew, and you need me anyway.”

You sob, your voice loud as Epel braces a hand around your neck and makes quick work of your shorts. You squirm and wriggle and he uses the other hand to drag up your shirt, pinching your nipple before he pants and starts pulling his slacks open.

“You need me, you know that? I’m the only one who knew the real you, the you before your little accident.” Something burning hot presses against your thigh, and you shudder, “Do you understand? Tell me you love me if you understand.”

“N-no, no, please, Epel, I don’t-”

“You don’t what?” He seethes, angling his hips and pressing against your entrance, “You don’t understand or you think you’re gonna be okay on your own out here? Those other motherfuckers, they don’t give a damn about you. I’m giving you a chance to heal your public image, bitch. You’d best take it.”

You don’t get the chance to hysterically decline, as Epel slams into you with a lusty grunt. He stays still for a moment and you hear your voice before you realize you’re speaking.

“-this to me? Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?” You babble, your tears making your voice thready. Epel flexes the hand around your neck and you stop talking.

“I always thought you was pretty. You know that?” He almost sounds vulnerable, but the wild look in your eyes and the sudden jerk of his hips makes you remember that Epel is not someone to think of in a positive light, in any capacity. Pity counts.

He moans and lets his arms loose, his entire body still casing you in as he rests his forehead on the plush rug you’re sprawled on, his hips undulating as he snickers meanly, “Always thought your personality was shit, though. Mmm, I like you so much better like this.”

He’s hot, on top of you. His body temperature is making you uncomfortable, and you’re not sure if that’s your sweat or his sweat that’s dampening your skin. His fingers are a shocking cold, however, as they come up to harshly tweak your nipple.

You yelp, coming back to yourself and squirming again. He sits up so he can clamp a hand around your throat again. The lights are all still on, the room is bright and although there’s a shadow clinging to his front, you can see Epel’s features plain as day. His hair is a mess, it must have fallen out of the tie he had it in. The lavender waves spiral over his pretty face like an ornate picture frame. His cheeks are a pink that would maybe be cute if he wasn’t trying to forcefully fuck a baby into you.

Like always, Epel looks like he’s maybe about to cry. His eyebrows are furrowed, his lips clamped unnaturally tight, his eyes glistening. But behind the shine in his eyes, behind the rosy cheeks and the upset expression, there’s an eerie air of disturbia.

He releases your throat for a moment, then clamps it down again, watching your skin ripple with the force of his thrusts, “I don’t want to kill you. I didn’t want to kill you the first time. So you are going to have to do something for me, so I don’t decide to kill you.”

You gasp, choking for air. Epel tilts his head and smiles, looking more worried than conniving.

“You need to stay still. You don’t have to enjoy it. It’s more about my pleasure anyhow.”

You hate him. You thought you disliked him, but as you nod so he’ll stop strangling you, you decide that you hate this man, you loathe every fiber of his being and the very thought of having his child makes you long for death again. This second chance is not worth this.

Epel coos and kisses your tear-streaked cheek, then lets your throat go, bracing his hands around your head. He’s framing your face as he smirks down at you, his hips rutting into yours. His eyes narrow a bit and he reaches down to tilt your hips further up, one of his hands hooking in the crook of your knee, which he presses as far up as he can go.

And then he bows his head and lets out a whisper of a groan, his hips stuttering to a stop. You shiver and cry, feeling somehow numb despite being overly aware of every single touch on your body. You feel the carpet beneath you, but you don’t. You feel Epel’s weight on you, but you can’t. You can hear yourself crying, you feel Epel’s lips peppering your face, kissing the tears away, but you refuse to live in this moment.

Epel gets off of you and stretches, then starts unbuttoning his shirt and rolls his slacks the rest of the way off, but leaves his socks on. He hums to himself as he walks out into the main area of the apartment, leaving you in a heap and alone in the bedroom.

He returns with a pair of mugs, one of his cold hands rubbing your belly as he smiles down at you and puts the mugs down.

“Don’t tell me you’re all spent, sugar. It hardly ever takes on the first try. We’ve got another few rounds before we can go to bed.”

You can’t respond.

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bleedingichorhearts · 9 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Uh, apologies?

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: I do not ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ these 𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

TW // Disownment, Assault, Angst? Yandere Themes.

There was something about being a child of the rich. It wasn't as fun people thought it would be. It was… lonesome, exhausting in a way.

Especially, for a child that just wanted to be recognized by their own blood. That wanted to be held, and coddled just like their siblings did. To be read a book to settle down into bed with. To be cooed at and laughed at. To be running away from her guardians with glee. To be just loved, just like her siblings did.

What made her so different?

What made her to be the outcast? The black sheep? She wasn’t anything different than her siblings, was she? She looked like a normal child to her, but why can’t her mother love her the same way, and not send her off to do her studies? Why can’t her father teach her just like he did to her sibling? …Maybe they just needed time to recognize her? Maybe she needed to prove her worth? Yes, that must be it!

So, she waited, and waited, and waited until these golden knights showed up just as another of their siblings was born. They were huuuuuuge, and in different colors too! They were nothing compared to what she's been reading in the books! Their helmets, a little wonky, but it's just another thing she will have to deal with as she continued to wait for her parents' recognition.

She waited for them through a couple more seasons. Her hopes, high for any day they might give her anything that resembles a real hug. She's been watching long enough to know what was real and what wasn’t. She’s seen them fight before; right in front of her too. She's seen them drink their heads off. Laughing about anything and anyone that is deemed funny enough to them, then start a fight about it?

That part confused her. Why drink something that made you fight, and miserable afterward?

The golden knights confused her too. They were hanging around with her a lot more when they should be hanging around with the rest of her family. She knows her family doesn’t like it so that means she shouldn’t either, right? But with any attempt she has made for the golden knights to dislike her was proven false afterward, and it irritated her. Why can’t they just leave her alone?! That’s what her parents wanted, right? For her to be left alone?

She tried throwing heavy blankets, and pillows over the railing when one of the golden knights would pass by. Landing on their helmet and obstructing their view. Only for them to pull off the blanket and look up at her with a questioning tilt of their helmet. She's tried hiding the books that one of them was reading. Which, in her opinion, she won because it took him a day or two to find it again. She's even tried wandering the streets of the city, only to be carried right back to the house by one of them. She was so sure they wouldn’t be able to find her because she had lost herself too.

These actions, of course, didn’t come without some grounding from her parents, but if it meant getting a fraction of their favor. She can handle the extra weight.

Though, there was a time where she realized that she will never be loved the same way as her siblings. She will never be loved by her parents. She might as well never have been loved at all, and deep down. That scared her.

She strictly remembers staying up late one night. Wandering the halls of the modern mansion at one of her father’s hosted parties that lasted halfway through the night. She could hear their drunken laughs, and the slamming of their drinks on the tables. How someone laughed at a higher pitch than them all. Unlike the rhythmic laugh they do together. She had even questioned herself if they were female or not.

Nevertheless, she was simply wandering the halls, too restless to fall back asleep. Not like she could anyways. It was too loud for her to do so. Her room wasn’t all that far from the main entertainment rooms, nor the laundry room. So, it would be a while for her to go back to bed.

She was also surprised that she hadn’t seen one of the golden knights yet. They usually were more active when there was a party going on. Patrolling the halls. Busy trying to keep people in their place, within their area. Except for one that managed to bypass them.

The bypasser was a young-looking man dressed in a messy black, and white tux as he stumbled into the hall she was in. His form hunched over with an arm to his mouth. Trying not to puke up whatever he’s eaten. His green unfocused eyes staring at the ground before acknowledging her.

“Where you wonderin’ little gal?” The man slurred, grinning as he tried to steady himself. His suit stinking heavily with alcohol. His pupils, bigger than average; pink too. Meaning he drank too much than he should have.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Her shoulders tensed as the man took a slow step towards her. She knows this wasn’t a friendly man. She’s seen what a friendly man was like; they were kind, generous, and happy. Not drenched of alcohol, not wobbly and unfocused, creepy, this man is creepy.

It reminded her of a monster in one of her books. How this monster would come in through the bedroom window and steal the children away and into the dark where he emerged from. The book never specified what the monster did to the children afterward, but a child can imagine, and they can imagine big.

“C-Come over here.” The man hiccupped, nearly falling flat on his face after he tripped on a rug. Pulling it out from underneath an end table. A loud thud going off as the table tipped to the ground. The man huffed in response and looked back at the fallen table while she turned around to get out of there. She knows that he was a very, very bad man. How couldn’t he be? He was described as one of the monsters!

What the little girl couldn't expect was an object to be thrown at her. Hitting her right in the back of her head and shattering. Making her fall down to the ground. She even couldn’t register the pain yet, too busy hearing her own little heartbeat in her ears. Too busy scrambling away from the man who gave chase.

She yelped as she turned a corner. Hearing the man slam into the wall with slurs coming out of his mouth. Never has she's been so close to a drunk man before. She only watched them from afar, never coming close to them like her siblings did. They never were this… angry. They never hit her siblings like this one hit her.

She desperately dashed for a cubby hole that she had found while wandering another of her restless nights. Knowing that if she tried going back to her room when she really wanted to, she could end up putting herself in a bad situation just like in those horror movies she's seen her father watch.

Spotting the cubby hole. She flung herself into it just as the man had caught her leg, trying to pull her back out as she kicked and screamed at the man to let her go. Her arms nearly failing on her to keep herself inside of the cubby hole until she managed to kick the man right in the face.

Scrambling inside. She tucked herself all the way up against the other wall of the cubby hole and in the corner while she held her breath. Silent tears going down her cheeks as she watched the man try and shove himself in the cubby hole with her too. His arms thrashing all around in order to snatch her right back out there. A lot more curses falling from his mouth before he finally stopped. A snap shushing his foul mouth. His unmoving form being taken away before being replaced with a shine of gold. The blare of a red visor staring right back at her.

The golden knight cooed out to her, but she didn’t move a single inch. Replaying the events in her head. Wondering why one would do such a thing until she passed out in the cubby hole. Running out of breath to hold. Running out of energy to cry. Her form curling around herself.

She woke up the next morning with a headache, but she stayed in that space for almost three days. Quietly weeping, thinking; waiting.

Waiting for someone to acknowledge that she was gone, except for the golden knights. That have tried everything within their power to make her come out without having to smash through the wall and get her themselves. They really wanted to, but they didn’t want to spook her anymore then she already was. They wanted her to trust them. So, they brought her food that she never would eat. They brought her hobbies that she might like to play with, but still. They sit there at the entrance of the cubby hole untouched.

She wanted her family, her own blood to recognize her. Not these… colored bananas that shouldn't have been with her in the first place. Her family didn’t like her around them. So that means she shouldn’t be around them either, but never once, did her family call out for her. Never once, did her family make an effort to find her. Not once, did they acknowledge her disappearance. Even when the next day was her birthday.

That’s when she realized she was just a watcher, an observer of the household. She was nothing more than a camera in the corner, or a phantom that wandered the empty halls at night. Only to be walked though like a ghost in the morning. She was never a daughter to them. She never will be. She never was.

She came out of that cubby hole the day after her birthday. Hungry, thirsty and… different.

She never ran to anyone like the maids the house hired that she trusted. She didn’t speak much as she used to. She never picked up any toys she loved. She just kept to herself, and her studies as she grew. Ignoring whatever might drive her away from it, and she watched.

She just watched.

Watched how her siblings tore into her things she used to love. Watched as her parents continued to treat her like she wasn’t there. Watched how the maids, or babysitters tried to cheer her up like she once did. Watched how the golden knights even tried being just a little closer than before, but it ended up with her “grounded” for nothing. She watched as her birthday’s zoomed by without a lit candle on a cake or even just on a cupcake, and she continued to watch the days of her creation pass by like any other day.

She also noticed a lot more things that way.

Her father liked to cheat behind her mother's back while she would do the same at 1:00A.M. and 3:00AM. sharp. Her brothers, and sisters doing the same, just worse? They would steal each other's girlfriend or boyfriend, and that was just a loop of disastrous events. Her father liked to drink, and gamble at some casino not too far from here. Her mother also goes there to get laid by another rich man. Just waiting on the day, the two catch one another, not they haven’t before. Oh, and her father's businesses were failing. That he told nobody about. Too afraid of his own failure, and that brings us to the “Golden Knights.” The Adeptus Custodes that she does not have much on.

All she knows is they are annoying. Following her around like she was some royal to them, and her parents hated that. Hated they couldn't do anything about it, but who’s to say anything to a 9ft tall, armored warrior that shuts you up by just staring at you? Not her parents, and certainly not the crackhead down the street.

Though, it makes her wonder why the Adeptus Custodes are truly here? Out of all the places they could have gone to they chose to be here. She knows they weren't being “controlled” by her father. They were to… divine looking to be swayed by his horrible contracts. So, why were they here? What was their purpose? There was nothing special for them here.

Furthermore, making her untrusting to them. No matter what they did. She didn’t trust them, and it's all they wanted. For her to trust them. For her to come to them and use them as their shield. To relish in their protection. To love them just as they loved her.

Please, trust us little one. We will wait a millennium if we have to.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #fanfiction #third person pov #yandere custodes #adeptus custodes x reader #adeptus custodes #custodes x reader #custodes #reader insert #tw: disownment #tw: assault #tw: angst #tw: yandere

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sarahsmi13s · 2 years ago

Text

Hesitation

(gif not mine)

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x fem pilot!reader (last name: abbott, call sign: medusa)

characters: jake seresin, reader, the dagger squad + maverick and warlock, leroy jethro gibbs, ziva david, timothy mcgee, anthony dinozzo junior, donald mallard (ducky), james palmer, abby scuito, secnav, male villian!oc - Cole Cooke

warnings: THIS FIC IS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, language, death, SA, torture, abuse (not by hangman), car accident (mentioned), vomiting, guns, canon violence, i’m sorry if i missed any, please let me know and I will add it to the list

word count: ~10.6k (i-i don’t know what to tell you)

a/n: the NCIS team will consist of Gibbs, McGee, DiNozzo, and Ziva (mainly because that’s the season i’m currently on) and the Dagger Squad is temporarily stationed at Oceana

like mentioned in the warning, this fic contains sensitive themes, reader discrection is advised

**********

The Gibbs Team looked at the plasma, looking over the military file displayed on it.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and got closer to the screen, “She’s pretty, real pretty.” “She’s missing DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, walking into the bullpen with his coffee. “How did you-” Gibbs just stared at him. “Nevermind.”

McGee rolled his eyes before turning to the screen. “Lieutenant Y/N ‘Medusa’ Abbott was reported UA this morning by her captain, Captain Pete Mitchell.” Ziva spoke up, “She’s a Naval Aviator, graduated top of her class and has flown several high profile missions.” “She also was a TOP GUN graduate, graduating in the number one spot there as well,” Tony added.

“She got a backseater?” Gibbs asked. “Uh, no, not anymore,” Tim said, looking down at the ground. “Not anymore?” The image changed to one of a photo of Y/N and her backseater. “Lieutenant Jordan Winters was in a car accident in 2018. He was in a coma for a month, when he woke up the damage to his legs had been so severe that he was discharged,” Tony elaborated.

Gibbs nodded, “What about her wingman?” Ziva pressed the clicker, “Lieutenant Jacob Seresin, call sign ‘Hangman’; also graduated top of his class and graduated from TOP GUN in the number one slot.” Tony winced, “Wonder what he did to earn a call sign like that.” Ziva chuckled, “I can think of a few things.”

A smack sounded out in the bullpen.

Ziva and Tony rubbed the back of their heads. “Right, sorry boss.”

“We need to talk to her squadron, Captain Mitchell, and Admiral Bates,” he walked around his desk and grabbed his coffee. “DiNozzo, you’re with me.” “Gibbs, why are we looking into this? She’s only been UA a few hours, that’s not really enough to classify her as missing,” Ziva questioned. “My gut.”

As Gibbs and Tony got into the elevator, “McGee, I want a BOLO out for her vehicle.” “Yes, Boss.”

********

After flashing their badges to the gate they went into the training facility.

“How can I help you guys?” The secretary asked as he looked up from his computer. “Do you know where we can find Admiral Bates?” “He should be in his office, he’s expecting you.” Gibbs nodded and went down the hall.

He knocked and received a ‘come in’.

Gibbs walked in flashing his badge, “Admiral Bates? Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS. This is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.” Warlock stood, “Glad you could make it here so soon. I know Captain Mitchell called it in, but he was ordered to start training as usual.” “Is he on the ground?” Warlock nodded, “Yes, as are the rest of the pilots. If you’ll follow me I can show you the way.”

As he led the way, they asked him questions. Like what Y/N was like, what her relationship was with her squad and her commanding officers. And Warlock had nothing but positive responses.

They entered the hangar seeing the pilots sitting casually, standing at attention when the Admiral entered the room.

“You may be seated.” Warlock gestured to the agents, “They are Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo. They’re from NCIS.”

Payback sat up with a furrowed brow, “NCIS? What happened?” Warlock sighed, “As you all know, Lieutenant Abbott did not report this morning. They’re here to ask you all some questions.”

Gibbs turned to Maverick, “Captain, I’d like to speak with you first.” “Of course, my office is this way.”

******

In Maverick’s office, Gibbs asked him questions about Y/N.

“You called this in very early, why?” Maverick sighed, “Med- Lieutenant Abbott, has never been UA and has barely ever called in sick. I’ve had to send her home a few times actually.” Tony nodded before asking his own question, “So, there is no possibility that she’s late?” “No, sir.”

Maverick sighed, “I just, I have this feeling that something’s very wrong. It’s in my gut, and my gut is usually right.” Tony and Gibbs shared a look, nodding.

“Is there anyone that might want to hurt her for any reason?” Tony asked. Pete shook his head, “Not that I know of. She’s loved by everyone on this squad and her past squads had nothing but nice things to say about her.” Gibbs sat up, “We need to personally talk with each of those pilots out there.” Mav nodded, “Of course, whatever you need.”

******

They spoke with Hangman first.

“What can you tell us about Lieutenant Abbott?” Gibbs asked. “She’s one of the best damn fighter pilots around. It’s an honor flying with her,” Jake answered honestly.

“You’ve flown with her for a while, nearly your whole career,” Tony pointed out. “Yes, sir. We were in another squadron together before being reassigned to this one.” Both nodded.

Gibbs glanced down at Y/N’s file. “She’s got a badass call sign. ‘Medusa’. Let me guess, you gave that to her?” Jake nodded, smiling at the memory, “I did.” “Why Medusa?” Jake chuckled, “Well, first she flies stone cold. If she ever gets hit on in a bar, the look she has could kill. She also loves mythology, it’s one of her hyperfixations.” He smiled as he remembered the last reason, “She’s got a sick Medusa tattoo on her thigh.”

Tony raised his brows, huffing in amusement.

Jake tensed at that, and Gibbs noticed, but didn’t mention it.

“You mentioned that she got hit on, do you think any of those guys would maybe try to hurt her because she rejected them?” DiNozzo asked. Hangman frowned a little, thinking, “No, most of them are usually drunk and just move on to the next girl.” “Were there any that didn’t move on?” He nodded, “A few, but they tend to move on when the rest of us size him up from across the room.”

“Has anything like that happened since you’ve been stationed here?” Gibbs asked. “No, mainly because she’s not too familiar with the area or the bars so she usually doesn’t go up to the bar alone.” “What about her stone cold stare?” Tony asked, a hint of mirth in his tone. “It still works, but some guys tend to take that as playing hard to get. So, one of us guys usually goes to the bar with her. If she needs to go to the bathroom, she goes with Phoenix or Halo.” They nodded, writing their notes down.

“What about her relationship with her backseater?” Jake chuckled, “Her and X-Ray are like brother and sister. She still visits him when she gets the chance.” Tony arched a quizzical eyebrow, “They’re still close?” He nodded, “The bond between pilot and wizzo is something else. When you’re in a plane together, your life rests entirely on the other person’s shoulders. They were a great team, I owe both of them my life.”

Gibbs nodded, “Seems like Lieutenant Abbott owes you her life as well. You’ve got two air-to-air kills, one of which was to save her life about 2 years ago.” Hangman nodded, “Yes sir. She was out of defense with no ammo, she had a bandit on her three o’clock.” “So, that’s when you swooped in and saved the day?” Tony asked, chuckling before cutting it off with a cough from a stare from Gibbs.

“Thank you Lieutenant Seresin, if we have more questions I need you to be available,” Gibbs said as they both stood. “Of course, sir,” Jake shook his hand, along with Tony’s before leaving.

********

The rest of the interviews went very similarly.

Everyone said basically the same thing. Medusa was never late, loved by every one of them, and had no known enemies. When at the bar no pursuers ever tried to follow her out.

While they didn’t get a lead to where she could be, they got an idea on who she is.

*******

As they drove back to NCIS, Gibbs’ phone rang.

“What ya got, McGee?” “Lieutenant Abbott’s vehicle was spotted in a ditch headed towards the air station. Sending the coordinates now,” McGee reports. “Ziva and I have already started that way.”

Tony nodded at Gibbs after checking his phone. Gibbs nodded back, “Okay, we’ll meet you and Ziva there.” He hung up and started driving to where Y/N’s car was spotted.

*******

They met up at the scene and began to process it.

“So, what are we looking at Boss?” DiNozzo asked as he photographed tire marks. “I’ll tell you when I know, DiNozzo.” “Right.”

Gibbs turned to Ducky, “Do you have a time of death, Ducky?” “Based on bruising, I’d say a day, maybe two.” They moved her body from the vehicle to the gurney to check her body temperature. “Her body temperature suggests the same.”

“How are we gonna tell the Dagger Squad?” Tony asked, watching Palmer wheel the gurney up to the truck. “How are we gonna tell her family?” “Her squadron is the only family she’s got, McGee,” Gibbs huffed and made his way back to the car.

*******

Jethro walked into autopsy, “You got a cause of death for me, Ducky?” Dr. Mallard went over to the x-rays, “Well, based on the bruising, and the position we found her in - Lieutenant Abbott died of asphyxiation. When she crashed into the tree, she was pinned by the steering wheel. Poor girl, her ribs were crushed and it could have taken hours for her to lose consciousness.” Gibbs turned to the autopsy table, walking over to the body on it.

He tilted his head as he looked at her face, squinting a little. “Did we get a positive ID on her?” “We found her ID, sir,” Palmer piped up. Gibbs just gave him a look before turning to Ducky, “Did we confirm that?” Ducky waved his finger, “I thought you were going to ask that, which is why I was going to suggest getting one of her colleagues to come up here to confirm.” “Why didn’t we just fingerprint her?”

Palmer came over, “We would have-” He turned her palm over, “Except she doesn’t have any.” Gibbs nodded, “Lieutenant Seresin mentioned she had a tattoo on her thigh. One of Medusa, said that’s how she got her call sign.”

Ducky nodded, “Ah! Yes, Medusa.” He moved the cloth of her leg, showing the tattoo there. “Beautiful work of art, truly.”

Gibbs’ phone rang, “Yeah Abbs?” “I think I’ve got something fishy with the Lieutenant’s car.” He nodded, “On my way.”

Ducky looked down at her body, “Call it a gut feeling my dear, but something about you just doesn’t line up.”

*******

Gibbs and Tony walked into the garage, “What you got Abby?”

The scientist popped up from behind the door. “Something that doesn’t line up.” He rose a brow, “And that is?” She enthusiastically waved him over.

“Look at the interior.” He did. “It’s covered in glass, Abbs.” “Exactly!” Tony laughed, “Abby, that’s normal for a crash.” Abby held up a finger, “But the lack of blood is not!”

Gibbs furrowed his brow and looked at the interior more closely.

There truly was not enough blood in that car for it to have been a proper crash. There was little blood on the air bag, the seat, the windows- anywhere blood would be, there was small amounts.

Gibbs looked at the crime scene photos, seeing the little amount of blood on her body.

“The lack of blood suggests-” “She was dead before the car hit the tree,” Gibbs said as he turned to walk to the elevator.

Abby quickly followed him, “Gibbs wait!” “What?” She smiled at his expectant expression. “I was checking the brake pedal and I found this,” she held up an evidence jar. He sighed and grabbed the jar, shaking it a little, “What is this?” She took it back, “I’m thinking it’s cinder block. I’m gonna run tests to be sure, and on the trace amounts of blood as well.”

Gibbs smiled, “Good work, Abby.”

*****

Gibbs walked into the squad room the next day, he really hadn’t left the building, going over every detail he could find on Lieutenant Abbott. Also staying for the autopsy of her body, learning that she had in fact died somewhere else two days prior to the day she was found. And results from the residue found in the floorboard were confirmed to be cinder block

He was still waiting on the results of the blood analysis.

As if on cue, his phone rang. “Gibbs.” “The blood results came back and you won’t believe-” That’s all he needed before he hung up and went to the elevator.

*******

Walking in with a Caf-POW, Gibbs went over to Abby at her lab computer.

“Tell me something, Abbs,” he said, sitting the drink down. “I can do better than that.”

She pulled up the blood test, both from the body and what she pulled off the airbag. “These blood samples don’t match.” Gibbs furrowed his brow, “So there was someone else in the car?” Abby shook her head, “Nope. This blood-” She held up a vile taken from the body. “Does not match this blood.” She held up the swab Ducky took from where Medusa’s nose bled. “When I ran a test on this swab, I couldn’t find a match. So, I requested this.”

Abby took a breath, allowing Gibbs to ask questions. “So whose blood is this?” “I’m glad you asked.” She pulled up another test, showing a positive match. “What is this?” “When I learned the blood pulled off the Lieutenant’s skin didn’t match what was taken out of her body, I ran what I found on the airbag against both. What was found on the airbag matches what was taken off her skin.”

Gibbs nodded, “Do we have any idea on whose blood that is?” “Not who,” Abby smirked, turning to her evidence table. “Animal?” “Nope.” Gibbs exhaled impatiently, “Then what is it, Abby?”

“Based on the theory we had about her being dead before the crash, I tested the blood for red dye. And I found that both samples, the ones taken from both the air bag and her skin, contained Red Dye 40.” “That’s food coloring.” Abby nodded, “Yup! The blood in the vehicle is fake. Our Lieutenant was murdered before the crash.” Gibbs kissed her cheek, “Good work, Abbs.”

*******

“McGee, go get Lieutenant Seresin. Bring him in for questioning, but don’t tell him why,” Gibbs said as he walked around his desk.

Tim stood up, “Uh, but do I get to know why we’re bringing him in?” Gibbs looked up at him, “Because Lieutenant Abbott was murdered.”

*****

Hangman sat in interrogation, toothpick in his mouth as he tapped on the table.

Gibbs walked in and Jake looked up, taking the pick out of his mouth. “Lieutenant Seresin,” Gibbs nodded to him. “Agent Gibbs,” Jake nodded back.

It was silent for a moment, Hangman waiting for the agent to speak.

“When did you last see Medusa, Hangman?” Gibbs looked up from the file on the table. “Sunday night, around 2200, sir.” “That’s late, you both weren’t in your dorms?” Jake shook his head, “No sir. The squad went out to the bar that night, sir. Y/N and I went to our rental on base at 2130.” “You lived together?” Hangman nodded, “Yes, sir. We’re dating, sir.”

Gibbs leaned on the table, “Dating?”

“Yes sir.” “Was this not an issue with you being in the same squadron?” “We were dating before joining the Navy, sir. Grew up together.” “And you aren’t married yet?” Jake exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching a little.

Gibbs smirked a little as he watched Hangman’s eyes fall to the table. “What happened Sunday night? Did you and Y/N get into a fight that night?” Jake swallowed, looking Gibbs in the eye, “Yes sir.” “About what?”

“A girl at the bar had flirted with me-” “Did you flirt back?” Jake looked at Gibbs incredulously, “Of course not.” “Then why did you fight with Medusa?” Jake rubbed his face, “When I turned the girl down, she laid it on thicker. Y/N claimed her territory.” Gibbs nodded and began writing, “I assume you left after that?” He nodded, “Yes sir.”

“What happened when you got home, Lieutenant?” Jake sniffed and rubbed his nose, “Medusa was giving me the cold shoulder, which I’m not entirely surprised about. I tried to get her to talk and when she did, it escalated. And she asked me a question, one that I hesitated to answer.” “Was the question,” Gibbs played with his pen. “When you were gonna marry her?”

Hangman nodded, “Yes sir. She said she was tired of having to show ‘barrack bunnies’ that I’m taken. That if we were married, it’d stop them. I told her a ring doesn’t stop them, if anything they try harder… Then she asked if I ever planned on marrying her, and I hesitated.” “That’s when she left?” “Stormed out the door and left. I needed to talk about it, so I called my buddy Rooster and he came by. He stayed over because I wasn’t sure if Medusa was going to stay with Phoenix or not. She didn’t come home or show up on base.”

Gibbs cleared his throat, “She didn’t come home because she was in a car accident, ran off the road and smashed into a tree.”

He could see Jake’s heart plummet as the words left his mouth. “Is-is she okay?” Gibbs shook his head, hesitating to pull out the photos but laid them out anyway, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. She was found dead in the driver’s seat.” Jake looked down at the photos and covered his mouth, “Is she here?” Gibbs nodded, “She’s in autopsy.” “Can I see her? Please?”

******

Tony and Ziva watched the interrogation through the glass.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” He asked, looking down at Ziva. “About seeing her Sunday night?” She looked up at DiNozzo, laughing a little, “Or that they were a couple?” He scoffed, “I know that’s a lie. Dating for nearly 15 years and they aren’t married, there’s no way.”

Ziva looked back and saw how torn up Jake looked. She sobered up, “I think he’s telling the truth. Gibbs does too.”

******

Gibbs took Jake to autopsy, “Ducky, I’ve got a second opinion to confirm Lieutenant Abbott’s ID.”

“Oh, who might this charming young man be?” Ducky asked, walking up to Jake. Hangman held his hand out, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin, you can call me Hangman.” Ducky smiled and shook his hand, “Doctor Mallard, everyone calls me Ducky.” Jake couldn’t help but chuckle, “I think you’d like my friend.” “Is he also a medical examiner?” Hangman shook his head, chuckling, “No, he’s also a bird.”

Gibbs smirked from behind his coffee, before following Ducky and Hangman.

“I must warn you, Lieutenant, the crash made matching her to her ID through facial recognition difficult.” Ducky pinched the cloth in his fingers, waiting for Jake’s confirmation that this is what he wanted. “Please, Doctor Mallard.”

Ducky moved the sheet, exposing her face. Jake inhaled sharply, hesitantly reaching out, pausing. “You may touch her, Jacob.” Jake ran his index finger along the side of her face. “Oh, Sugar… I’m so sorry..”

Both Ducky and Gibbs watch tears fill Jake’s eyes before he furrows his brows. “What’s wrong Jake?” Gibbs asked, tilting his chin up. “It’s just- Y/N has a scar. Right here,” Hangman used his pinky to trace a line from just below her cheek bone to a spot on her neck. “She got it last year. She tried to break up a bar fight and got grazed by a broken bottle.” “Are you sure it hasn’t faded?” Jake shook his head, pulling out his phone, finding a photo from Sunday night before the fight.

He gave it to Ducky, who zoomed in on the photo, seeing the scar in the exact place it was supposed to be.

“Can you show me her tattoos?” Gibbs arched a brow, “Tattoos?” He looked at Ducky, “Why didn’t you say she had more than one?” “Because we only had one to go off of.” Gibbs nodded, “Yeah, the important one!”

Jake arched a brow, looking between the two before Ducky smirked and turned back to him and lifted the sheet. Jake’s eyes scanned her body, matching every tattoo to the ones he had committed to memory. He shuddered, covering his mouth, “It’s her.”

Gibbs inhaled through his nose, shoulders rising a little before he exhaled. “Lieutenant, can anyone confirm that Lieutenant Abbott was at the bar on Sunday?” Jake’s eyes shot up to the marine, “I don’t understand, you said this was a car accident.” “Answer the question, Hangman.” Jake stood straight at the tone Gibbs had, “The Dagger Squad, or the bartender at the Siren’s Cave, sir.”

******

Ziva and Tony headed to the air station to talk to the squad and McGee went to the bar to get surveillance.

“Lieutenant Machado, can you confirm that Lieutenants Seresin and Abbott were at the Siren’s Cave Sunday night?” Ziva asked, sitting across from Coyote. “Yeah, Medusa beat me twice at 9-ball.”

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, Lieutenant Seresin said that he called you to come over after the fight he had with Lieutenant Abbott. Did you pass her on your way to their home?” Tony asked Rooster. “Yeah, she passed the bar as I was leaving.”

Tony called Gibbs to relay the information.

******

Gibbs opened the interrogation room door.

“Everyone confirmed seeing you both at the bar on Sunday night. Lieutenant Bradshaw confirmed that he saw her on his way to your house. You can go.” Jake stood up, “Can I get her tags, sir?” Gibbs nodded and jerked his head for Hangman to follow him.

They went down to Abby’s lab.

“Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!” Abby came over, startling Jake a little. She paused, noticing him, “Hi, I’m Abby, forensic scientist.” He smiled, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin, friends call me Hangman.” “Oooh, a pilot- wait, you’re…” She trailed off as she realized who Jake was.

She hugged him, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Jake glanced at Gibbs, who was smiling at him and shrugging, before hugging her back. “Thank you, Abby.”

When she pulled away she looked at Gibbs, waiting for him to speak. “If you’ve processed them, I need Lieutenant Abbott’s dog tags out of evidence and given to Lieutenant Seresin,” Gibbs told her. Abby frowned, “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.” Jake swallowed and nodded, “I understand if you need to keep them for any reason. I just-” “No!” Abby cut him off. “No, it’s not that I still need them. I don’t have them.” Jake tilted his head, “That can't be right, we never take them off.”

“Abby, I’ll be back. Lieutenant, I need to talk to you.” Gibbs ushered Jake out of Abby’s lab and to the elevator.

“Agent Gibbs, there’s something you’re not telling me. Was my wingman murdered?” Jake hissed as soon as the doors closed. Gibbs pressed the button for the squad room, sighing as he looked at Jake and stopped the elevator, “The body in autopsy is three days old. Y/N left your house on Sunday night.” Jake’s jaw slacked, “There’s a chance she’s alive?” Gibbs clenched his jaw, “Yeah. So I want to know who went through all the trouble to find a damn near perfect body double and replicate her tattoos to make it look like she died, and I wanna know why.”

******

Your head stayed down when the door opened.

“Oh come on, Y/N.” The cold metal of the blade under your chin made you raise your head. “There she is.”

*******

“Is there anyone in Y/N’s past that would want to hurt her?” Jake shook his head, chewing a toothpick as he paced through the squad room, “I don’t know.” “Come on, Hangman, think.” Jake clenched his jaw so hard he broke his toothpick, “I’m sorry if I can’t think of a single person that would have it out for the sweetest woman on the damn planet, Agent DiNozzo!”

Gibbs' phone rang, “Gibbs.” “I’ve got something!” He hung up and stood, “Abby’s lab now.”

Everyone, including Jake, went to Abby’s lab.

“Show me what you got Abbs.” She grinned at him and turned to her computer. “Just to be thorough, I found the Facebook pages of the tattoo shops Medusa got her tattoos at. I found the posts where she tagged them, and matched them with the photos taken in autopsy of her tattoos. And-” The team watched on the plasma as the photos layered over one another. “They don’t line up,” McGee finished for Abby.

“I also called the tattoo shops and learned they all use different ink. And all of the tattoos on our Jane Doe use the same ink.” “So this just further proves the fact that that body isn’t Lieutenant Abbott.” “Yes, but the fact it’s all the same ink means it’s easier to trace, Boss,” McGee spoke up.

Gibbs nodded and moved to leave, “Well, trace it McGee!” “I already did, Boss.” Gibbs stopped and turned, finding a smiling Probie.

He tossed his arms to the side, “Are you wanting a microphone?” Tim shook his head, “Sorry, Boss. First, Abby found the brand of ink, and then I was able to find where it’s sold. Turns out you can find it on Amazon, along with a tattoo machine. Ducky also noticed that, upon closer inspection, that the tattoos were in the healing stage. So I narrowed the search to purchases made two weeks ago and delivered to addresses in Virginia.”

McGee turned back to his computer, and everyone went to the plasma.

“Both were delivered to a: Hannah Nicholson.” Gibbs turned to Jake, “Lieutenant, does that name sound familiar to you?” Hangman shook his head, “No, never heard of her.”

Abby came up, “No, but you’ve seen her.” She clicked her remote and someone that looked similar to you was pulled up. “Hannah Nicholson is our Jane Doe.”

*******

You gritted your teeth as a slap was delivered to your face.

“When I’m done with you, your career will be over. You’ll never be in the sky again.” You laughed, like actually laughed, “You can’t be serious. Ruin my career? I’m a part of the best of the best, you could never keep me-” You grunted as he punched you in the gut.

The man squatted to be eye level with you, “Don’t get smart now, Y/N.” “Well, you could definitely benefit from getting smart. Don’t you think? You fake my death with a car accident and then send a video to NCIS of you with me, very much alive?” You arched a brow at him, “Not very smart-” He cut you off with a punch to the face, sending your chair, and you, to the floor.

*******

The next day while Jake was on base, he got an email sent to his phone. When he checked it and saw it was a video with you tied to a chair as a thumbnail.

“Maverick,” Jake didn’t hesitate to burst into his Captain’s office, not caring who may be in there. “Lieutenant-” “I need you to take me to NCIS.” (Jake was shaking too much to drive himself) Maverick stood, glancing at Warlock for a moment, “Why, Hangman?” Jake just turned his phone around and showed him the email.

Both Mav and Warlock looked at the phone. “Go, Captain, I’ll take over training for today.”

******

When they arrived, Jake had no hesitation to go right up to the squadroom.

“Lieutenant Seresin? What are you doing here?” McGee asked, being the first to see him. “Where’s Agent Gibbs?” Tony spun in his chair to get up, “Coffee run.”

He walked up to Hangman, “As senior field agent, I’d be more than happy to help.” Jake chuckled, tapping his palm with his phone, not really in the mood for putting up with Tony’s arrogance. “I’d prefer to speak to Agent Gibbs.” “Well, like I said, he’s not here. And I’m much better at-”

“At what, DiNozzo?” Gibbs said, standing next to the agent and the pilot as he sipped his coffee.

Tony stuttered to respond, making Jake smirk a little. “Have you ID’d the man Hannah met online?” “Not yet, boss.” “Then why are you standing here?” “Well, I was- uh- I was just- I’ll get right on that boss.”

Hangman and Maverick shared a look, before Gibbs spoke to them. “Lieutenant Seresin, I take it you have something for me?”

*******

“Well, you could definitely benefit from getting smart. Don’t you think? You fake my death with a car accident-”

“God, Medusa, stop talking…” Jake mumbled to himself. The group winced when you got punched in the face and your chair fell over.

Gibbs grunted a little, “Get this video to Abby. I want her to analyze every frame of that video. And who sent it to Lieutenant Seresin.” “On it, Boss,” McGee said, emailing it and then following his email.

Jake rubbed his face and sat down. He threw his head back and bit his lip. Maverick knelt down in front of him, “Hangman?”

Jake sniffed and looked down at his captain. “What is she thinkin’, Mav? Antagonizing him like that? That’s not how we were trained to handle situations like this.” “She’s not thinking, she’s just doing.” Jake scoffed, “As comforting as I assume that was supposed to be, it’s not even remotely easing my nerves.”

Ziva perked up, “Wait, what if she wasn’t taken because of the mission?” Tony nodded, “That would explain why she’s being so sassy. It’s not intel, it’s revenge”

*******

“Agent Gibbs!”

The crowd turned to the voice, seeing Director Vance upstairs. “SecNav would like to speak to you. MTAC now.”

As Gibbs made the stairs Vance noticed the two khaki uniforms in the squadroom, but simply nodded at them as they walked into MTAC.

“Agent Gibbs.” “Mister Secretary.” “One of the best naval aviators that just flew a high profile mission is missing. I was told you were on the case.” Gibbs nodded, “Yeah.” “Do you have any leads?” “No.” “Agent Gibbs, you do understand that if anything about that-” “He doesn’t care about the mission. He only cares about Lieutenant Abbott. It’s personal for him.” “So you know who he is?” Gibbs shook his head, “No, but based on the video sent to Lieutenant Seresin, he hasn’t asked any questions related to any mission.” SecNav nodded, “Okay. But Gibbs?” The marine raised a brow. “Get her back, the Navy needs her.”

*******

“You know, you ruined my life that day,” the masked man said as he played with his knife.

Your head lolled to the side, your exhaustion from the beatings taking a toll on you now. “What are you talking about?” “Do you not remember me?” He stood and you gritted your teeth as you forced your head up to look him in the eye. “Obviously not. Should I?” You winced as he pressed into a cut on your shoulder.

“Yeah, you should.” He pulled off his mask to reveal a face you haven’t seen since he got kicked out of the Academy.

“C-”

********

“Cole Cooke,” McGee said, pulling up Cooke’s old Naval Academy file. “Abby was able to find him because the email he used to send the video to Hangman, he used on an online dating site where he met Hannah.” Jake stood up, “Wait, Cooke?” The team parted to let him get a closer look.

The pilot's face morphed into anger.

Anger that the marine recognized.

“What’d he do, Lieutenant?” Jake had fire in his eyes when he looked at Gibbs. “He sexually assaulted her and three other girls. Y/N’s the one that reported him.” Tim nodded, “And that’s what got him kicked out of the Naval Academy and blacklisted from the military.” “He wasn’t arrested?” Jake clenched his jaw, “He was, but he got out on good behavior.”

Jake’s phone went off with a notification, an email to be more accurate.

He dropped it onto McGee’s desk. “I don’t understand, why would he send these to me?” “You’re her boyfriend, Lieutenant, this can just be another form of revenge. He wants to get back at her for reporting him and, in turn, ruining his chances at a military career,” Ziva said, crossing her arms as McGee transferred the videos.

“He ruined his career all on his own, Agent David. Y/N just got a scumbag out of the service,” Jake huffed rubbing his forehead. “Nobody liked him, he was cocky. Always thought he was better than he is.” Tony chuckled, “Isn’t that the main trait of a naval aviator?”

“They have something to back it up with, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “The only thing Cooke has to back him up is a record of being a dirtbag.”

He looked at McGee, “Play it.”

You looked worse than before and Jake felt sick to his stomach. “Oh my god.”

They watched him squat in front of you, twirling the knife he just cut you with in his hand. Jake’s jaw was clenched as he watched your head fall to the side as slow breaths made your chest move.

“You know, you ruined my life that day,” Cooke said. Your face scrunched in pain as you took a deep breath, “What are you talking about?” Cole stood and tipped your head back with a harsh grip on your chin, “Do you not remember me?” You scoffed, “Obviously not. Should I?” He moved the hand holding your chin to press into the cut he had just placed here, making you wince. “Yeah, you should,” he ripped his mask off.

The look on your face Jake had only seen one other time and it was when you came to his dorm crying.

********

The banging pulled Jake from his book.

“Hold your horses!” He pulled the door open, coming face to face with you crying and looking absolutely terrified. “Sugar what’s wrong?”

Your hands were shaking as you showed him your knuckles, bruised and cut up.

“I-I didn’t want– I told him I had a boyfriend- Ja-ake,” you broke down outside his door. “Hey, hey, I got you. You’re safe now.” You swallowed, “Jake, I need to go to the superintendent-the dean-someone.”

He pulled you into his room to get you out of the prying eyes of other midshipmen. “Why? I need you to-” He finally took in your appearance, you were wearing a disheveled USNA t-shirt and athletic shorts. Bruises were forming on your wrist and your eye and lip. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“You remember last semester when those two girls dropped out for no reason?” He nodded, “Yeah, the two freshman girls right?” You nodded, swallowing another wave of tears away. “I found out why…” Jake searched your eyes, “Why, Y/N?”

*****

“Cole Cooke…”

Jake was brought back to the present by your voice.

Cole laughed, pushing your shoulder, “That’s right, Y/N. Cole Cooke, the man’s who military career you ruined.” It was your turn to laugh, “Me? Ruin your career? You assaulted me! And those two first years! They quit because they were scared of you! Scared because you threatened to kill them if they told anyone!”

He punched you, sending you falling back. He grabbed you by the rope under your breast. “And you’re not scared that I’ll do the same to you now?”

You held your head up to look at him, blood pouring from your nose. “I would lie and say ‘no’. But guess what?” “What?” He spat through gritted teeth. You smiled with blood stained teeth, “I put you in jail once. It’s almost poetic that I’d do it again. Except this time, there won’t be a chance you’ll make it out.”

Cole growled and they all noticed his posture change, “Let’s play a game, Lieutenant.” You shifted forward to get in his face, gaze stone cold, “What do you suggest, Cooke?” The team could feel the venom dripping off your tone. “Hangman.”

The video stopped on the frame of your face falling once again to show fear, and the team turned to face the pilot who looked equally worried and pissed.

*****

You were hanging from the ceiling, your chin resting against your chest.

The door to the room you were in opened. You whimpered just a little when he brushed his fingers against your bruised ribs, “You didn’t hurt him, did you? Please… You can do whatever you want to me, but please leave Jake out of this…”

Cole hummed in your ear, “Anything I want, hmmm?” You glanced at the camera, before looking at the ground shamefully. A shaky and timid ‘yes’ fell from your lips. He let out an amused huff before his hands ran over your shirtless torso.

*****

Jake felt bile rise up his throat when you looked down in shame.

“What’s he gonna do to her?” McGee asked. Gibbs frowned, “What he tried to do 12 years ago.”

The anger and disgust rolled off the agents as Cooke’s hands ran down your body. When he got to your breast you jerked away out of reflex, earning a pull to your hair which made you cry out.

You were getting weaker by the hour and the team could tell. Jake could tell, and he hated it.

“You know, you only had the one tattoo at the academy,” he said, groping at the inked flesh of your thigh. Jake watched your lip quiver and you inhaled as best you could with your position. “I also found your back, extremely enticing,” Cooke ran his hand down your back. You gritted your teeth and looked behind you at him, “Is that because you’re too much of a coward to attack women from the front?”

That must have really pissed him off because he came around and started to punch you.

Jake stood up hastily and made a beeline to the elevator, “I can’t watch this anymore.”

Tony jogged after him, “Lieutenant Seresin! Hangman-” The doors closed when he got to them.

******

Jake just needed to get away and he was going to Abby’s lab.

When he stopped on her floor, he moved quickly to her lab but nearly ran into Ducky in the process. “I’m sorry, Doctor.” “In a hurry, Jacob?” Hangman chuckled nervously, “Yeah.” “Needed a breather, my boy?” “Sir?” “I saw the videos as Abby was analyzing them.”

Jake felt bile rise again and this time he couldn’t stop it. Ducky noticed and quickly helped him get to a trash can.

“Let’s get you someplace cooler,” Ducky ushered Jake back to the elevator.

******

Jake sat on one of the metal tables in Autopsy.

His khaki uniform shirt was neatly folded next to him as he sipped his water. “Thank you, Ducky.” The doctor nodded, “Of course. It can’t be easy, seeing the one you love like that.” Jake coughed a little, trying to force the emotion out of his throat, “It’s not.”

Ducky watched his eyes fall to his shoes, he could tell he felt guilty. “It’s not your fault, Lieutenant.” “I hesitated, Ducky. And since I hesi-” His voice cracked, tears finally slipping past his lids. “Since I hesitated she's having to relive the worst day of her life.”

Jake set the bottle down and used his white undershirt to wipe his eyes, “How long have you been together?” “Over 15 years…” Ducky nodded in understanding, “High school sweethearts.” Jake huffed out a laugh, “Childhood friends to high school sweethearts to USNA sweethearts.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but why aren’t you married?” Jake shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess it’s because we were already acting like a married couple, just without the license and the rings. I never thought about it.” Jake laughed and shook his head.

It was silent for a moment.

“She asked me if I was ever gonna marry her, and I hesitated. It was a question she asks me all the time, but this was the only time it was during a fight. It was the only time that my answer really mattered. And I hesitated… She left and was in a vulnerable enough state to let herself get taken.”

Ducky leaned on the table next to Jake, “Cooke was going to get to her one way or another.” “But I led her right to him.”

Jake looked at the doctor next to him, allowing Ducky to see how broken and tired he was. “I’m scared, Doctor Mallard.” “That’s perfectly normal, Jacob.” “I'm a damn fighter pilot, I’m supposed to be level headed, and right now… my head doesn’t even feel like it’s on my damn shoulders.”

“It’s normal to feel like that, Jake,” Gibbs said, leaning on the doorframe.

He walked over to the pilot, “She’s strong. She’s gonna fight to get back to you.” Jake rose a brow, sniffling as wiped his eyes, “Did you see her, Agent Gibbs? He was using her like a punching bag…” “She will make it out of this.” “How do you know?” “My gut.”

That was oddly comforting to Jake.

“Do you know the mythology behind Medusa?” Ducky inquired after a beat of silence. Jake chuckled again, remembering the nights throughout your lives that you would stay up and talk about mythology of all sorts for fun. Sometimes when he was having trouble sleeping, you’d tell him the story of some hero in mythology and he’d fall right asleep.

He sighed, “We’ve stayed up hours talking about mythology. But if I’m honest, I never really heard the words she said…” Both men knew what Jake was getting at; he was listening to your voice and watching your expressions as you told the stories.

Ducky just smiled, “Medusa was a priestess for Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war strategy, and had sworn celibacy. However, Medusa had gained the attention of Poseidon, and they-” “Had sex in Athena’s temple,” Jake said as he sipped his water. “That much I remember.” Both Gibbs and Ducky laughed a little at that.

“When Athena found out, she punished Medusa for breaking her celibacy by turning her into a ‘beast’ with the ability to turn men to stone.” Jake nodded, “Yeah, Y/N has the tendency to do that, whether it be with fear or with her beauty.” Jake couldn’t help but smile at the memory of him seeing you on prom night for the first time, he froze on your parents doorstep.

Ducky and Gibbs smiled as they saw the look in Jake’s eyes as he thought about you.

“She was killed by the hero Perseus, beheaded. Then her head was then used to protect those who had it in their possession. The image of her head was used on shields, breast plates, and more recently, tattoos.” Jake remembered you mentioning that as he held your hand as you got it, “She mentioned that when she got it. She was getting it because she thought it looked cool, makes her feel powerful; but she likes the extra meaning.”

Ducky rested a hand on Jake’s shoulder, “I know it may not look like it, but she is protecting herself.” Jake took in a deep breath and nodded.

********

They walked back into the squad room, the group sitting at their desks and making conversation.

“Go home,” Gibbs told them.

It was late. They’d been out all day talking to Cooke’s neighbors, his parents, his boss and coworkers. And the last video was sent just after sundown.

They were tired.

“But we haven’t found-” “I know that, Ziva.” McGee spoke up, “Abby’s trying to analyze the room she is in so we know what to look for. I tried to triangulate where he sent the emails from, but he was using public wifi at an internet cafe.” “We have no direction to go, Boss,” Tony said, not being able to look at Jake.

Gibbs turned to DiNozzo, “Which is why I’m telling you to go home. Get some rest.” Ziva inhaled through her nose and interlocked her hands, “Gibbs, we don’t know what Cooke is going to do next. We have zero time to waste.” “If Cooke wanted her dead, he would have killed her already,” Jake said, jaw clenched with his eyes trained on the floor. “Believe me, I’m worried. Hell, I’m terrified out of my mind right now.-”

“But we can’t make progress without leads. Cooke lives in a studio apartment, his parents disowned him, and he’s not shown up to work in days, we don’t have anything,” Gibbs said, frustration in his tone. “Go home, get some sleep.” His team begrudgingly got their things, all avoiding Jake’s eyes.

“You should get some sleep too, Lieutenant.” Jake chuckled dryly as he shook his head, “I don’t think I can, sir.” He ran his thumbs along the khaki of his uniform.

Plus Maverick had left, needing to be back on base. The only way Jake was getting back to base was by cab. Maverick also gave him as much time off as he needed.

“But- uh, I better head back to base though.” “In what, Lieutenant?” Jake shrugged, “A cab, I guess.” Gibbs shook his head, “Stay with me, Jake. It’s late. And I doubt you want to be in that house right now.” Hangman looked down at the floor, huffing out his nose and tonguing his lip.

“I know how you feel.” Jake looked up, green eyes swimming with curiosity as his brows pinched together. “When I was in Desert Storm, I was informed that my wife and daughter were dead. It was hard to even walk into my house, let alone sleep there.” Jake’s eyes widened slightly and he swallowed as his jaw ticked, “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like…” Gibbs nodded, “And I hope you never have to.” He patted Jake's shoulder, “Come on.”

******

Gibbs gave Jake a pair of sweats to change into.

They went to his basement, neither being able to sleep.

“So, you’re a Marine?” Jake asked, sipping his bourbon. “What gave it away?” Gibbs asked, smiling a little bit as he sanded the wood of the boat. “Other than you being in Desert Storm?” Gibbs turned, wiping his hands on a damp towel, nodding. “Everything.”

The marine let out a breathy, amused chuckle. “You know a lot of marines?” “I was raised by one. My father retired when I was 4 as a Sergeant, he was 38.” Gibbs sipped his bourbon, “Why’d he retire?” “Wanted to be there for us. He had a close call, he didn’t want to risk not coming home to us. His 20 years were up, so he retired.”

Gibbs nodded, looking at the boat before looking back at Jake. “You wanna help?” Jake looked up from his glass and between the boat and Gibbs. “Sure, yeah.” He downed what was left and Gibbs gave him a sander.

*******

Since Jake didn’t need to report to base, he just freshened up and Gibbs took him by the base rental to get some clothes.

He had forgotten his keys in his locker and had to call someone to bring them to him at the house. That someone was Rooster.

Jake got out of Gibb’s car and saw Bradley on the porch. He was sitting on the bench, one fist held by the other as he looked at the ground. Maverick had gotten permission to relay what had happened to you to the squad, and everyone had taken it hard.

Rooster looked up when Hangman shut his car door.

They immediately met in a hug. “I’m so sorry, Jake.” “I’m scared, Rooster. I didn’t even-” Bradley pulled back and held Jake by the shoulders, “Hey, they’re gonna find her. Say it to her then.”

Gibbs came up beside them, nodding at Rooster before they went inside.

Jake didn’t want to be there longer than he needed to be so once it was opened, he booked it to the bedroom.

Bradley and Gibbs stood at the island in the kitchen. “They didn’t decorate much.” Rooster shrugged, looking around, “We aren’t here for long. They didn’t see the need to bring a whole lot.” “If you aren’t here for long, then why’d they rent the house?” Rooster chuckled, “They wanted their privacy.” Gibbs chuckled and glanced at his watch.

Hangman was taking longer than he said.

Gibbs went down the hall and found Jake sitting on the side of the bed. He had changed into a pair of his own sweatpants and a green t-shirt. Jethro knew what he was looking at, even with his back to him and from the door.

“Ask her.”

Jake chuckled humorlessly, “After this…” He shook his head, “I doubt she'll say yes.” “Ah, I don’t know about that.” Hangman sniffled, “I messed up…” Gibbs nodded, moving to sit next to him. “Yeah, you did, big time.” Jake shook his head.

“But this is how you fix it.” Gibbs pointed to the ring box. Jake swallowed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “I wanted to wait, ask her on my family's ranch where we had danced in my headlights to George Strait. I had this big plan. Just a private thing, but special…” “Plans change. Sometimes you have to adapt.” “Yeah.” “So ask her.”

Jake turned and looked at him, nodding at him. He stood from the bed and slid the box into his pocket. He grabbed the small stack of clothes next him and they left.

“Agent Gibbs?” Gibbs and Jake looked over at where Bradley was at his Bronco. “When you find her, give us a call?” The agent nodded, “Yeah, I’ll give ya a call.”

*******

When Jake and Gibbs got to NCIS, nothing had changed yet.

No new video. Abby was still working on room measurements, and no one had seen Cole.

Until McGee’s computer went off. Everyone’s head turned, and Jake felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “It’s Cooke.” “Pull the video up McGee.”

You were still hanging from the ceiling, Cole running his hands over your torso.

The camera was a little closer, and it showed the tear tracks on your face.

“You know,” you spoke, voice shaky and raw. “I’m gonna need a drink after this. Yeah, whiskey sounds really nice.” Cole just grunted and pulled you back against him. You whimpered a little bit, definitely feeling gross because of what was happening. “Or an Oscar. Maybe two.”

“The hell’s an oscar?” Tony asked out of reflex, glancing at Jake, but he was just as confused.

Cole grunted into your neck, “Shut up.” “Have you ever been to the delta?” He stayed silent but reached over to yank the rope and pull you up higher. You swallowed, glancing at the camera, “Me either, but I’ve been to the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I went there with Hangman on a weekend getaway after a rough deployment. My uncle has a cabin up there. God, that weekend was so fun. I love Jake, I love him so much…” You kept your eyes on the camera to make sure that Jake knew that you’d love him. The video stopped just as Cooke pulled your hair back, making you yelp.

Jake cleared his throat, nodded, “Yeah, that weekend was fun… Wait, we didn't go to the Sierras; we weren’t even in California, we were in Arkansas.” Gibbs caught Jake’s eyes and that’s when they realized it.

“She’s using phonetics!”

The team's eyes grew wide in realization. “Whiskey, Oscar, Delta, Sierra,” McGee repeated. “W O D S?” Ziva spelled it out. “She said two oscars,” Tony pointed out.

“She’s in the woods,” Gibbs finished for them. Jake thought back to what you said, “She put emphasis on ‘cabin’.” “DiNozzo, check to see if Cooke’s parents owned or still own a cabin.” “On it Boss.”

His phone rang, “Yeah, Gibbs.” “Gibbs, I ran the measurement of the room. She seems to be in a cabin. Based on the dimensions it’s a family cabin, probably two or three bedrooms.”

“Boss, it seems Cooke’s parents own a lot of cabins,” Tony said just as Gibbs picked up his phone. “Did you narrow it down to Virginia?” McGee asked, brow arched. “Yes, McGeek, I did. Mr. Cooke owns two hunting cabins and a-” “Family cabin, two or three bedrooms,” Gibbs cut in.

“Yeah, they haven’t used it in years. It’s in Fletcher State Park.” Gibbs got up, “Get your gear, let’s go.” Jake watched them all grab their things.

“Agent David,” he called out before she got too far. “Yes, Lieutenant?” Jake grabbed the clothes he brought. “Here,” he held them out. “She’s in nothing but a bra and underwear, give her these.” Ziva hesitated to take it. “Please.” She heard the desperation in his voice and took them.

She went over to Tony and Tim. “You know, despite the odds, we may not-” “We will find her alive,” she glanced at the fabrics in her hands. “We have to.”

*******

You yanked down on the rope, crying out a little at the pain in your dislocated shoulder. You had honestly been scared of losing feeling in your hands, but he gave you a bit of a break when he was finished hurting you for the day and left you locked in one of the bedroom closets.

Your toes barely scraped the ground and the rope wasn’t going anywhere. You shivered in the cold damp air of the cabin. Only being in your underwear, the chill soaked into your bones. You were certain that if you didn’t die of whatever Cooke was doing to you, you might die from the cold.

Hearing tires outside the cabin, your heart sped up. You could only huff out small breaths as you heard footsteps outside the door on the porch.

It was his routine to get you set up for his next sick video, film it, and then leave to send it. You’d calculated the time it took for him to get back and it was getting close for time to him to be back.

But then there was banging on the door, followed by a gruff voice yelling, “NCIS!”

Your entire body relaxed. You were safe.

“I’m in here! Help me!” You called back, coughing a little.

The door frame splintered when the door was kicked in. “Lieutenant Abbott?” The agent asked, pistol drawn as he walked over to you.“Yes,” you breathed out. “Where’s Cooke?” You shook your head, “I don’t know but he’ll be back soon.”

“Please get me down from here. It’s hard to breathe,” you begged, tears of relief falling down your cheeks. You jerked your neck towards where Cole had secured the rope, “Ease me down, please.”

McGee was quick to loosen the rope and Ziva helped steady you once your feet were on the ground. “Can you walk?” She asked, gently placing her hand on your sternum. “I think so. I might need a little help.” The agent simply nodded and helped you outside.

Once you were outside the uneven ground and rocks caused you to stumble. Tim moved to help Ziva steady you but he jostled your dislocated shoulder. “Shit!” McGee looked panicked, “What’s wrong?” You gritted your teeth, “My shoulder, it’s dislocated. I tried to break the rope and pulled it out.”

You chuckled a little at his expression, “Hurt like a bitch. Can either of you pop it back in?” Ziva nodded and leaned you against the car. She got a proper grip and looked at you, “Ready?” You swallowed and nodded. She exaggerated a few breaths and when you matched she popped it back in.

“Holy shit! Sweet baby Jesus..”

You pushed off the car and threw up; all the pain catching up to you with the adrenaline rush. Ziva came up and held your hair out of your face.

Spitting out the last of the saliva in your mouth, you thanked her under your breath.

A coat was wrapped around your shoulders. You looked to see Gibbs rubbing your shoulder, a small smile on his face.

His fatherly nature was present and it allowed you to be vulnerable, finally allowing yourself to outright sob; mostly in relief. You fell into his chest and he caught you, hands moving to rub your back. He mumbled into your hair, “You’re safe. I got ya. I got ya.”

The sound of gravel shifting caught their attention.

Gibbs felt you tense under his touch, “Is that him?” You nodded, whimpering a little bit. He looked at Ziva, “Stay with her, cover the front. DiNozzo, McGee, go find cover on the right, I’ll get cover on the left. You’ll know what to do.”

Carefully, Gibbs placed you in Ziva’s hold and she placed you in the car for both warmth and cover.

When Cole finally reached the cabin, Ziva raised her weapon. “Cole Cooke! NCIS! Get out of the car-” He threw it in reverse just to be stopped by Tony and Tim. He tried to get out and make a break for the tree line but Gibbs stepped out. He quickly surrendered and was handcuffed.

With you in a separate vehicle they made the trip back to NCIS.

********

Jake paced the squad room. Abby was up there with him, trying to keep him calm.

He was mumbling things to himself out of worry and Abby was following him, trying to grab him by the shoulders. “Jake. Jake. Ja-”

She finally got a hold of him, and ducked her head a little bit to make sure he was looking at her.

“Jake, they will find her. They’re the best there is. I’m sure they already found her and are either on their way here or to a hospital.” Jake frowned, “She hates hospitals, especially being in them alone.” Abby shook her head, “She isn’t alone. Gibbs wouldn’t let her be alone. Y/N is safe, I can feel it.” Jake just nodded, slowly calming down.

The elevators dinged and he was on his feet, nearly giving himself whiplash as he turned.

But when he did all he saw was red.

Cooke was being escorted out in handcuffs by Tony and McGee. Abby couldn’t hold Jake back as he swiftly made his way over and landed a punch to Cole’s jaw. Neither agent bothered to stop the pilot as the one punch sent Cooke to the ground.

But as he went in for more, Gibbs gripped Jake and pulled him away. He had to fight Jake back to the bullpen, but he got him there.

“That asshole just punched me!” McGee and DiNozzo huffed as they harshly yanked him off the ground. “You’re lucky that’s all he did.” They dragged him to interrogation.

Jake’s nostrils flared as he exhaled, his chest still broadened in his display of dominance over Cole.

However, the adrenaline wore off as quickly as it appeared and Jake felt tears line his eyes. He hung his head and fell into a chair. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, sobs leaving his lips. “I wasn’t there the first time, and I wasn’t there this time… I can’t believe I-” Abby cut him off, “Don’t finish that sentence, Jake. Because you are here, you were there the first time. She ran to you, you are her safe place.” “But-”

He was cut off the elevator ding again.

Glancing up, his heart soared in his chest.

There you were. Standing right before him in an old Longhorn sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. You were clean from the dirt and dried blood, having used the showers to clean up after any evidence was collected.

Your arm was in a sling and some butterfly closures adorned your forehead. But even then, you were still the most beautiful girl in the world to him.

*****

You walked quietly with Ziva out of the elevator, the weight of the conversation you had with her and Ducky still sitting on your shoulders.

The sound of a chair rolling back and hitting a desk caught your attention.

Looking up, you saw Jake and once again, you were crying; both from relief and the realization you almost never saw him again.

You moved as fast as you could to get to him, slamming your beaten body into his when you got to him. His arms carefully wrapped around you, obviously not wanting to hurt you. But when your soft crying exhales hit his chest, he all but scooped you into his arms carefully wrapping your legs around his torso.

You winced a little when his arm tightened around your waist. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he immediately apologized. You pulled your head out of the crook of his neck, shaking it lightly before looking into his eyes, “It reminds me this isn’t just another dream.”

Jake closed his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks as he rested his forehead against yours. “Jacob, if you don’t-” He cut off your sentence with a kiss, it was slow but no less passionate. He was gentle, the arm wrapped around your shoulders bringing you closer to him.

Ziva, Gibbs, and Abby watched on with smiles. Tim and Tony walked in mid conversation, but stopped seeing the intimate moment happening in the squad room.

You had to pull back for air at some point. And when you did, you rested your forehead against Jake’s, both of your eyes closing with the contact.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes shot open and were met with Jake’s green ones.

You had said it at the same time.

A grin broke out on your face, “I hope you aren’t just askin’ me that-” Your tease was cut off by Jake, “I’m not. I-I had this big plan. I wanted to take you out to the pasture we danced in on prom night our senior year.” You giggled a little, “That would have been nice.”

Biting your lip you played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I had a lot of time to think over the past few days,” you said quietly, your breath ghosting over his lips. He nudged your nose with his. “So have I. And I’m sorry I never asked you sooner.” “Let me finish, will ya?” You chuckled lightly and he did as well. “I realized that proposing, nowadays, is a two way street. I could have asked you at any time and you would have said ‘yes’. We’ve been together since we were 15, Jake. Friends since we were born. We should have gotten married right out of high school, but we were scared of what our future held during the Academy and then flight school, then through separate deployments. It was too much to worry about at once, and we didn’t know what was gonna happen.”

You licked your lips and inhaled a little, “But I can’t go another damn day without legally being your wife. Those bitches at the bar aside. I just, I want others to know that you're mine and that I’m yours.” He nodded, “Okay, let’s do it.” You giggled and kissed him, “Alright cowboy.”

He sat you down and pulled out the ring box.

“Wait, you had that this whole time?” Jake rubbed the back of his neck, “Like I said, I had this whole plan. I was gonna ask you after we got some time off when we got back to North Island.” You laughed, “You perfectionist.” You peck his lips and he slid the ring on your finger.

You heard a squeal from behind you and you both looked around to see the entire Gibbs team smiling at you and Jake.

“Thank you, for getting her back to me. All of you.”

*********

thank you guys for making it to the end! i hope this crossover was accurate

i have plenty of ‘x readers’ in the drafts so if you want more let me know

and my asks are open, feel free to request what you would like to see next

feedback is greatly appreciated!

tags <3: @milesdickpic

<3 love ya babes

#ncis x reader #ncis/topgun #ncis x top gun #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #glen powell #gibbs #ncis #hangman angst #jake seresin x fem pilot!reader #tw: assault

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maybethistimemegz · 5 months ago

Text

Criminal Minds - One Quote per Episode ↳ s04e03 - Minimal Loss

#Criminal Minds #criminalmindsedit #Paget Brewster #Joe Mantegna #Thomas Gibson #Shemar Moore #onequote #tw: abuse #tw: assault #tw: blood #mine

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rq-cringe · 4 months ago

Note

(I forgot to add TW to my ask, I'm so sorry. TW for violence and SA type stuff when you see it. Again I'm so sorry 😭)

It's alright! Your original ask is below the cut! :)

TW: Transharmful/transharm mentions, SA mentions, and general abuse

I'm so sorry that happen. /genuine

Yeah, I also learned the hard way about those people. It's sick stuff. I'm so sorry that happened to you, and I hope it didn't trigger you in any way. It's probably best to use those banners. Even if they keep interacting, it shows your boundaries. Just remember that there is a block and report button.

#Mod Fluffy/🧸☁️#tw: abuse #tw: sa #tw: assault #radqueers dni #radqueer dni #anti radinclus #dni radqueer #radqueers fuck off #dni transid #transx dni #anti transid #anti transx

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cookies-and-mirrors · 3 months ago

Text

Prison of Stone and Flesh

Chapter Nineteen

This is a collaborative fic between @cookiesupplier and @faceless-mirror.

Dividers by @samspenandsword @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics

Authors Note: Trigger Warning for assault and past abuse. Please tread carefully.

Pairings: Multi-Pairings, Everybody x Everybody.

Triggerlist: transphobia, homophobia, abuse, SA, dubcon, religious trauma, past suicide attempts, mental health issues, grief, death, violence, (To be added to)

Christopher, Justin, and Ryan are members of the Gargoyle Order, soldiers fighting in the angels war against the demonic supernatural evils of the world to protect human kind. Through the years they lost comrades and now just the three of them remain in their little town.

Now, Ricky and Vinny are moving into their church, stirring up old and new feelings, along with the past, posing the challenge of navigating this new chapter in their lives.

Can they all navigate this path successfully and break free of the prisons that is their lives of both stone and flesh, or will they all be trapped forever in a world that could prove to be a constant misery?

MASTERLIST HERE

Taglist: @miamore0570 @21-century-tae @dragon-chica @shilohrosechicken @phxntxsmicgoricxl

@missduffsblog @witchyweeb34 @spicywhenspeaking @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens

@bngurngheart @dominuslunae @collapsedglasshouses @emmmm127 @sunsshinesunny

@latenightmusiclover @dontdiganothergravetoday

(please comment/like/reblog/message to be added to taglist)

Chapter Nineteen

Ryan, Justin, and Christopher climbed the stairs towards the rectory, only this time, they had Ricky, and Vinny coming alongside them. They’d all been up the long hours of the night for the party, and they stay’d up, to help them clean afterwards, not to mention, they were so used to staying awake, it was easier for them to do. Now, though, it was almost dawn, and Justin had gotten excited, pointing out this would be the very first time they knew. They knew they were gargoyles now. Did they want to see them actually fully turn to stone?

So, that was what they were doing now! Ryan had admittedly rolled his eyes and said they weren’t a circus sideshow, but, whatever, let's go.

Ricky and Vinny had changed out of their costumes, wearing jammies and comfy clothes sighing softly with exhaustion, cleaning the rest would have to wait til the next day… or at least later in the day. “We might… need to nap in here before going upstairs to sleep…” Ricky admitted with a content smile and leaned up kissing Justin’s cheek, offering a soft smile to Ryan too. “We’ll have coffee for you guys tonight still.” he offered softly, stepping back as Vinny made out with Chris a moment longer.

“I’ll see you tonight-” Vinny said softly, petting Chris face softly, looking up at him so tenderly and caring.

The gargoyles had all changed out of their costumes to help clean up the start of the mess from the party, though the rest would have to be left until later. Ryan hoped Ricky and Vinny waited until they woke up. Especially the worst of the disaster Justin had created with the chocolate fountain. After everyone had left, he had thought it was smart to want to stick his head into the thing instead of the fruit. He pointedly didn’t watch them all say good night, but the smile, he swallowed, nodding back to him, almost, almost even smiling himself faintly before it disappeared. His night had had slightly peaceful moments, which had felt, interesting, he wasn’t sure where they had come from, but the rest, had been confusing, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the stranger. Thankfully, they had left without a fuss. Thinking about it, he touched his hammer by his side thoughtfully, it was contracted to a shorter length currently, just a basic war hammer right now. He could extract the hammer handle to its full six feet when needed, it wasn’t tonight, thankfully. For once, aside from that one little hellhound issue earlier on Chris’ walk with Vinny, Halloween had been quiet, that had been a surprise.

Ryan climbed onto his platform, glancing away from Vinny and Christopher, watching the other pair step up onto theirs, and waited for the stone prison to take them. Usually, they took their beast forms for effect for this, but tonight, now that Vinny and Ricky knew, they didn’t need to if they didn’t want to, it was a choice… He heard the sound of the change taking Christopher, Justin beside him… And felt the tingle of the dawn as always, but then… nothing…

His eyes danced around the room… his hand unreasonably warm as he glanced at Ricky and Vinny, confused. Why wasn’t he stone?

Vinny stared. “What the fuck-”

The door opened and in stepped Gwynn, pulling off their mask that faded off, turning into runes on Justin and Christopher. They smiled at Ryan awkwardly. “Hey, Baby… sorry I was gone, I can explain- I'm not even technically cleared now even-” they rambled leaning on their cane, wobbling slightly, long silver hair falling, it was too long, far too long.

Gwynn, the stranger, they, they were here… that… that face… Ryan’s breath caught when he saw their whole face as they took off their mask, it just disappeared into thin air. The ability to apply runes like that, he’d only seen it once before, Jerahmiel never did that, he always, always had to apply them by touch… Ryan’s head tilted slightly, staring at this, this, Gwynn as they stepped in… sorry they were gone… thinking over what they’d said earlier. Choking in his throat… they… they… No. No. No!

It got worse.

They hadn’t- They… just been healing. Ryan had forgotten. How? How had he… And he felt it, the disgusting sick churn in his stomach, the same disgust and ugly feeling every time that he- He would do things to him- That was how. Ryan’s eyes prickled with tears as he looked at Gwynn, by the angel, it, it was Gwynn. They, they were home. They were finally home. He finally had them back. For a bare moment, Ryan felt pure joy clenching his heart, a feeling he had not felt for almost as long as he could remember, thanks to another angel stripping away at his mind, tainting his memories. He moved without thinking, a massive hand reaching up and cupping that delicate beautiful face that he loved so much, Justice, Gwynn, and brought his lips to theirs. The kiss was sweet, soft, more than he’d been for anyone, willingly, in over a thousand years.

Gwynn gave in, kissing back immediately, eyes watering as they melted for Ryan, fully relaxing as they looked up at him. Pressing closer, they didn't stop kissing til Ryan did.

As the kiss broke, something in Ryan broke too. It all came crashing down for him. Reality. A thousand years. A thousand years Gwynn had left him here to rot, they apologized that they hadn’t come back sooner, that they were still healing, but what good did that do him? He had been abused by a monster for centuries, thinking they were fucking dead. No one told him that his mate was even alive. There were angels all over the world, there was even him, not that Ryan would expect he would have told him. Anyone could have gotten a message to him, somehow. It wasn’t like he was hidden away in the far vestiges of the world. It must not have been worth it, he must not have been worth telling. Why would he be, he was just a gargoyle. Gargoyles were never worth more than how useful they could be to angels, and considering he knew he’d be obstinate for the past thousand years, doing everything he could to oppose his abuser. He’d pushed himself the pure opposite way on purpose. He’d want more feminine, Ryan pushed to be masculine. He picked him a gargoyle to breed with, Ryan refused to consent. They went around and around in circles for centuries. It got uglier and uglier as time wore on.

Thinking about everything he endured, every ugly, bitter, horrifying dark painful thing he suffered at the hands of that monster while Gwynn was off hiding, not even out there to give Ryan just a shred of hope… As Gwynn looked up at him with nothing but pure love and adoration, Ryan snapped, and with a dark look, he lost himself and went and slapped Gwynn sharply across the face to the floor.

The sound of the angel hitting the ground was horrific and cold, the heavy thump of flesh meeting the wall to the dull thump of them hitting the carpet, breathing hard.

A lazy glance over his shoulder to the gargoyles behind him, Christopher and Justin had woken from their stone forms by now, both looking on, dazed, confused, and a bit horrified to see Ryan attack the disabled angel unprovoked… “I believe you have business with our new handler, Christopher, I’m done with them.”

Damn straight, Chris was in shock, as he and Justin stepped off their platforms, witnessing Ryan kissing the angel… Dammit, their new handler, he was dreading this day arriving, but he was not going to let them hurt Ricky, or touch Vinny… and by the angel, “Ryan!” Chris exclaimed as the younger struck them, only for him to so calmly turn and look at him, and Chris moved towards the angel on the floor. For all his annoyances at the higher beings, and all the fact that they could destroy him with a word… They were barely able to walk, and Ryan had just slapped them down!

The angel grunted in pain, holding up a hand, “No… no… I de- deserved that. Go be with your mate, Christopher. I'm fine.” they urged, not looking up, fighting the sting of pain from not being allowed to love their mate. The fact their mate struck them. It was as if a switch had been flipped.

Feeling sick, they sat up, ignoring the gold blood from biting their tongue, recoiling from Chris’ touch almost fearfully as they pulled away fully, shaking some. The angel swallowed and didn’t look up at Ryan or Christopher, almost as if they were expecting more strikes to hit at them. Expecting it from all sides. For all of them to start.

Ricky and Vinny were frozen. Though Ricky seemed more terrified than anything. Ryan hit an angel… an angel was in the Rectory. He was a nephilim… he was scared. “Let's get you an ice pack.” He got out despite his trembling, nearly choking on his words that could hardly be forced out.

Christopher, Chris, didn’t even hesitate to kneel and help the angel up though, even with their words, and his breath caught with the realization, a flood of memories coming back to him. It was like dust had been blown away in one swoop as he helped them to their feet.

“Justice… Gwynn… shit.”

The one angel that Chris didn’t have to obey. The one angel that was kind enough to command him to never be forced to obey them from the moment that they’d realized the flaw in the original gargoyle design. Glancing at Ryan, wondering what was going through his head that he’d assault his mate like that, had he gone insa- oh… That… Chris didn’t want to consider that.

“Maybe we should all head downstairs, get you that ice pack, and have a seat to talk, well, Vinny, Rick, maybe you should go rest. It’s been a long night.” he didn’t want them to have to worry about this, and one look at Ricky, the nephilim, well, perhaps it was better if he got some rest and stayed calm. Chris was giving him an out.

Ricky looked at Chris thankfully, already slipping towards the door, unprepared to confront this right now. Though, Vinny was the one to speak up. “Wait. Hold up. Gwynn- you died-”

“I almost died. It doesn’t matter- It doesn’t- It doesn’t matter,” They whispered, leaning on their cane and heading downstairs after Ricky had disappeared downstairs stealthily.

The angel sat down in the café in a pew and hid themselves in the corner, looking away, a heavy white shirt wrapped around their thin frame.

Once they were all downstairs, Chris went to get Gwynn an ice pack from the bar kitchen, wrapping it gently in a cloth so it wouldn’t be so hard on their skin. He brought it over to them as they set themselves in one of the booths that had been fashioned from the start, using with the pews of the old Church. Chris sat across from them, even as they tried to hide.

“Almost died? We never found out how, Jerahmiel came to tell us the news, and in the years after that, he, well, he made it difficult to trust him. Despite it being required of us, and then about a century ago, he just disappeared.” Which, if Chris was honest, he was more than thankful for.

Ryan did not go sit with the others, Justin joining Christopher in the booth, instead he went right for the bar to find a bottle of whiskey and pour himself a healthy… unhealthy glass really. Oh, he wanted to skull the entire bottle, he’d pay Ricky back later.

“Thank you, Christopher,” they said taking the pack to adjust it, with a heart and heavy mind, ignoring the violent emotions and feelings in their chest.

Gwynn sighed, looking away, feeling sick, “Of course he wouldn’t tell you- I had to rush. I should still be in heaven, in lock up-” they froze, changing direction. “But I wasn't going to let you guys have another… angel-” they grumbled softly, “I have to keep my head down, I have to-” they grit their teeth. They sighed, holding the ice pack to their face but averted their gaze. “I should have pushed harder to come back sooner- to escape-” their voice was soft, full of regret.

Frowning, so Jerahmiel knew what had happened to Gwynn all along, of course he had. It made Chris wonder what had happened, and made him want to find and get his hands on Jerahmiel for answers. Asking Gwynn felt like in poor alternative right now, given their condition. Sadly, from how long they’d been gone, considering that Gwynn had been gone for a thousand years and sounded like they should be gone even longer, he had no doubt Jerahmiel was in on all of it. Even if Gwynn had eventually come back… how much longer would it have taken? Especially considering gargoyles went insane without their mates, did they really just assume Ryan would be fine? Chris didn’t want to admit, after the display upstairs, he was starting to wonder if he wasn’t finally starting to slip… If, maybe, Gwynn came back too late and Ryan was on his way to half feral, the fact that he’d lasted this long was astounding enough, it had never happened before… Never…

“Chris.” He corrected quietly. “You can call me Chris, if you like, everyone can… If they'd like.”

He sighed, but that, that wasn’t the issue now, “Wait, wait… escape?” Gwynn had said escape, if that was true, and they were never meant to come back, that changed everything.

“I… I don’t… want to talk about it.” The way they spoke was in of itself a quiet no. The only denial that the angel had ever uttered to them. “Where’s Honesty? He should be up here by now- He could come out of the catacombs.”

Hearing the way Gwynn said it, had Ryan just staring across the bar at them, his face devoid of emotion. What the fuck was that even? Ryan hadn’t even gotten to properly mourn their supposed death… Thanks to the… The… The fucking angel command from Jerahmiel. He took in a breath. A thousand years without Gwynn, years without his mate, he hadn’t even been worthy of an explanation of why. Then again, what did he expect, he’d forgotten his own mate, he deserved nothing. Blinking, he looked away from them.

“Honesty is dead, gone for centuries now, or did Jerahmiel not report that to your superiors like he was supposed to? Sure as hell told us after he fell.” Pouring out some more whiskey for himself, the glass of the bottle clinking to the cup.

“Atsuko is alive. He's in the catacombs, Jerahmiel was keeping him there to try to corrupt him- Archangel Jophiel got in touch with him-” Gwynn said in a panic now, jumping up to their feet, cane clattering to the floor.

“I need to get to the catacombs and bring him out!”

Ryan snorted derisively at the bar, sure, corrupt Honesty, yeah, that would have gone down real well. Ryan himself felt violently ill every time he lied just because he knew how much others tended to feel included to trust him implicitly with his virtue, it came with his nature. Honesty? He was just something else entirely. Chris glanced over at Ryan, he was trying really hard to put up this wall right now, it was painfully obvious, and the elder gargoyle didn’t know what to do about it.

“No offence Gwynn, I know it might seem like some of the angels have been helpful to you, helping you heal, but for us, they just left us here-”

Chris started gently, not sure quite the extent of Gwynn’s terms of escape because they wouldn’t explain and didn’t want to assume, but then Ryan’s glass at the bar glass slammed down, hard. The loud noise rocking through the bar. “Fuck no, all the damn offence. Justice. You assholes left us down here to rot. Alone. There are three of us. Three. That's all that's left, the rest of us have been maimed, tortured, and picked off one by one. Sure, the last couple of months we’ve had Vinny and Ricky, but that's fucking it. So what’s next, huh? The riot act because we haven’t exactly been following the fancy angel edicts about how we should behave like proper mutts? Hmmm?” That was after all what Jerahmiel would refer to them under his breath when he thought Ryan wasn’t listening while he was assaulting him. As it were, he knew Chris didn’t want to lose Vinny because of the fucking edicts.

Gwynn leaned on the table, hands shaking as they listened to the seething words their mate uttered, breaking his heart so harshly, so violently. Hearing him call himself a mutt almost making Gwynn’s knees nearly buckle under the implication, “W…what- No! I wouldn’t- I’m not- I'm actually happy for you-” they rambled before hesitantly explaining, “I’m not a full angel anymore- I’m… I’m fallen.” they said awkwardly looking away, partially afraid, almost ready to fly away if attacked even if their wings wouldn’t support them long enough.

“Chris… Your troupe is Archangel Jophiel’s pride and joy. She… she made sure I would get here as soon as possible.” They rushed out, the words spoken before more could be said or done.

Chris watched Gwynn rush out in shock, staring after them for a moment, trying to comprehend what they were saying. Shaking his head, Chris, glanced at Justin, Vinny, even Ryan had looked as shocked as he felt at this news, too surprised to be an ass for the moment. Chris got to his feet, “Justin, go check on Ricky while I help Gwynn in the catacombs find Atsuko. It’s been awhile, and who knows where he is down there.” Chris had been down there a few times, considering he used to hide Chenza’s ashes down there. Moving after them now, he went to follow Gwynn down into the catacombs.

Gwynn had moved out of their way, so far, out of their way, to avoid getting close to Ryan. They would never admit it openly, but they were scared of their mate. Of their gargoyles. Every movement made them jump, their grip on their cane tighter than it should have been, as long silver hair blew back with the pace they moved.

Chris had noted Justin leave the booth to head upstairs, unsure what Vinny was going to do. However, after how Gwynn literally avoided going near Ryan, he sighed at how the other gargoyle sullenly stared at his glass of whiskey sitting on a barstool. That, could not end well now, and it hurt his heart, those two had been part of the reason he had even wanted a mate one day. Approaching Gwynn, Chris noting how wary they were, it was impossible to miss. “I can help, Gwynn, you don’t have to go alone. I was probably the last down there… aside from Atsuko himself, that is.” Walking just behind them towards the catacombs, not wanting to pressure them if they said no, however. The gargoyle was careful of each step, his pace even, so he didn’t out pace them.

The angel trembled some hearing Chris behind him, fear gripping the angel before nodding slowly, “Of course- of… of course you can come with, Chris.” they said softly, hands shaking a bit as they reached the door still keeping some distance.

Standing before the door he pressed forward unlocking the door leading down to the catacombs and pushed it open, easing in, stepping into the dank stale air. How Atsuko lived down here, they were almost certain they would never understand. He had always been an odd duck. A very odd duck. But an appreciated one.

They grunted, pulling out an electric lantern and held it up, casting wide shadows over the walls from broken caskets and pottery. They sighed and ran their fingers through their hair, glancing towards Chris, ignoring how sore their face was. “We need to get to the deepest part.”

Keeping up with Gwynn easily, his legs carrying his massive frame after the angel, the deepest part of the catacombs, perfect. He’d never been in that deep, the catacombs were forbidden for a reason they were scared in their culture, going in there for the ashes had been practically sacrilegious, however, for Chenza he’d do anything. So, to find out that Jerahmiel has trapped Atsuko down there, it was horrific.

“Gwynn, wait…” As he walked with them, his eyes adjusting to the light in the dark, he’d have preferred the pitch black of darkness, it would have meant he could see better, but he knew their eyes weren’t equipped that way. “Please, don’t hold Ryan’s attitude against him. I think… Jerahmiel, he targeted him. Ryan never wanted to talk about to what extent, but we know he did.” Chris also didn’t like talking about the way the angel took advantage of him being unable to defy him when he figured that trick out… The others, the others, just thought he was ever the loyal and obedient one. Fulfilling his responsibilities to their handler.

Gwynn sighed, “Chris… I’m not upset with Ryan.” they sighed and looked up, “I knew I wouldn't be received well. I knew that… but it’s more complicated than that… He’s not the only one who went through things… I never thought… I didn’t think he would strike me. He was the only reason I pulled through. I will always do anything for him. But… I can’t say I’m not scared. I love him… but I am scared.”

They walked steadily towards the dark depths. “I love him. I always will. I would do anything he asks of me.”

Oh, Chris knew that feeling, he’d do literally anything Vincenza asked of him, she had gotten him to dress as a prince, another time as a damn knight… a literal knight in shining armour. The suit was still here, in the catacombs, actually, Chris had brought it down when the reservations had started in an effort to keep them from throwing it away. He hadn’t dared risk it. Chris swallowed, thinking about how Ryan had struck Gwynn though, the thought of ever doing that to Vinny. Worse, he knew Ryan knew, he knew who they were, Gwynn wasn’t reincarnated like Vinny had been. “Let me, point out, this in no way condones what he did… I don’t… Ryan hasn’t trusted angels in a long time, Gwynn, while we have all struggled with it… but for him, with his virtue… it’s…” Trust was everything for Ryan, and seeing any angel, was going to be difficult for Ryan. Ricky, Ricky, was a different breed. They’d known him since he was a kid, and he was half human. In a sense, they trusted the human part of him, more than the angel part of hum.

“I wish I could tell you it’s going to be easy for us to have an angel around again, but it’s not, it’s been a long time since we’ve had to walk on those eggshells on what we do, and what we say.”

Gwynn was stiff as they walked, aching, careful not to stumble along despite the uneven floor and stonework. “… I’m sorry I’ve disappointed everyone.”

Chris reached for Gwynn gently, to steady them, just a soft touch of their shoulder, despite the fact Gwynn flinched away immediately on instinct, Chris sighed, feeling immediate regret that Gwynn feared him so. “Gwynn, I- for years all we knew was that you were attacked, you were gone, the one light we had from the angels. Since then, nothing has been…” Chris swallowed looking ahead, while he couldn’t say everything was monstrous, there had been good things in his life. He had moments of joy in his life, moments that he has fought so hard to try to grasp on to, but it had been a battle, and they always seemed to be destroyed in the end. His eldest son needlessly slaughtered at the hands of rouge demons… his mate and unborn children slaughtered in the very Church they lived by humans, hounds, sent by demons.

“Nothing was the same for us after you left us, Gwynn, and for Ryan. Every so often, I wonder, if the stories about a gargoyle going mad aren’t valid. I’ve felt nothing but truly mad without Chenza.”

“Chris…. I… I know. I know what the angels were doing… ri… right now, I don’t think it’s a good time to discuss me and Ryan… I just escaped… I haven’t even slept yet. I need to do what I need to for the Arch Angel… I need…” They stopped, hesitant to say more, just walking faster despite stumbling.

Chris fell silent, accepting the end of the conversation, as painful as it was that right now for Gwynn, what the angel needed came first. What the angels required always came first, it was their purpose. It was why the gargoyles had been created in the first place. He would never hold that against them. Besides, he had a feeling Arch Angel Jophiel was involved in some way with Gwynn’s escape, so he just continued on, careful to make sure Gwynn didn’t fall as they limped along.

They kept walking in the dank stillness that made one feel as if mildew would grow in the lungs and choke out life… but pressed on. Gwynn was weaker down here, limping along, until finally the stillness was broken after an hour.

“Finally.” A gravelly familiar voice spoke, and slowly a form walked out from the dark, eyes reflecting the light. “Took you long enough…”

While he continued to watch out for them, Chris had to resist reaching for Gwynn, Justice, again, as they finished walking through the uneven terrain of the catacombs, with the way they had flinched away from him before. He didn't desire to make them uncomfortable any more than necessary. He had accompanied them to assist them, not hinder, so he had followed along dutifully.

Hearing that voice, Chris sighed. “Long enough, dammit Honesty, of all the times I came down here, not a peep, not even after that bastard left?” He didn’t hesitate to move towards the other gargoyle, engulfing him in his arms and wrapping him in a massive hug, squeezing the life out of him. It was like having two, no, three back from the dead, in less than two days.

Honesty was stiff and growled lowly, hugging back but snapping lightly at Chris’s shoulder, grumbling like a wild animal for a moment before huffing. “Kinda hard to get out of a command…” he huffed, “I was re-commanded to stay quiet until a new angel handler arrived. I'm happy it's Justice.”

Gwynn smiled and sighed out. “It's good to see, you, Atsuko…”

Was Chris surprised by his reaction after centuries down here, among the dead, alone? No, no, he was not. Sometimes he wondered about going a little feral himself, and he still had Ryan and Justin to keep him semi-sane. Poor Atsuko, was on his own, commanded, and the only ones he knew to get out of commands on their own, were ones created, not born, like him admittedly, he hadn’t seen another since long before Jerahmiel had left. Wait. Pulling back, he looked over to Gwynn, Justice, the smile was not returned. “He was re-commanded, by who?” and when? Gwynn had said Honesty was the reason they had gotten the information that something was wrong… if the angels' response was to continue to imprison him down here, for at the very least another century. That was how long it had been since Jerahmiel had run… Christopher was going to have words with someone. Maybe not Justice, but someone.

Gwynn looked at Chris, “I was told that he was only told to keep his head down-” they said, looking just as confused as it registered. “The angels who went to him were Jophiel and some lower angels she trusted-”

“One of the lower angels commanded me before leaving with Jophiel. Jophiel wasn’t there…” Atsuko grumbled, and swallowed, “There’s more fallen angels in heaven than you think.” he said softly, frowning as he stepped back, wearing his old uniform that was in disrepair. “I can go up… if I am pulled up. At the door, I can be commanded- Get me out of here.”

While Chris didn’t like the idea of having to command him again, anything to get him out of the catacombs right now. It also seemed the angels had a far bigger problem than just their unit. Fallen angels in heaven. They always acted like they were so much better than them, treated them like they were so superior over the years, and this, this was going to be a difficult issue, he was sure. “Alright, let's start back. Are you alright, Atsuko?” Chris had no idea of the state he’d been left in down here.

Atsuko sighed, “I’ve been better. It’ll be nice to feel the wind… and everything… I don’t even know what time it is… I haven’t shifted in hundreds of years.” he confessed, running his fingers through his hair with a growl, holding onto Chris.

Upstairs, Vinny sighed and walked over to Ryan, gently placing a hand on his arm, “Hey….” she whispered, “Wanna talk? Or would you like some coffee?” she asked, “A walk maybe?” Anything to get his mind off of… this. Gwynn… Justice. Jerahmiel… All of it. Her dishevelled curls and bags under her eyes were a reminder of how tired she was, but she couldn’t just leave. No… she needed to stay. For the fact she was a former gargoyle… she deserved answers as well. She couldn’t quite remember the details of her death… but this was important.

Ryan was actually surprisingly feeling a bit tired himself, he was used to sleeping all night, but by now he would have well been encased in stone, imprisoned for the daylight hours. What he really wanted was blood, Jerahmiel’s blood. He wanted all of it. Finally. He wasn’t going to get it though, he knew that much. For everything he had done to him, commanded him, to all of them. From the sounds of it, it was just the start of it with what Gwynn said, the angel had seemed to play by the rules here, toeing the line. Treating them horribly, but carefully. He’d played by the rules, Angel Rules.

“I don’t… I just…” He swallowed, staring at his glass before looking at Vinny, seeing her, remembering all the times he would make bets with Justice, Gwynn, about Chenza and Chris, whether they’d figure themselves out already… “Okay, Justice left, yea… but that bastard made me forget my own mate, and now all I want to know, is when I’m going to finally be allowed to hunt him down. Because that bastard is finally time to pay his due, for all of us.”

Vinny sighed and moved to drape over him, “Ryan… I know it was killing you… And I think you’re fair for being upset. But Gwynn would absolutely let you have him if they could. You know that. Gwynn is good at hiding their emotions when it comes to business, but… you know Gwynn has always been violently protective and sure of themself when it comes to you.” Vinny moved and sat in his lap, hugging him gently, kissing his cheek. “Ryan… You’re strong. You always have been. And I’m proud of you, but it’s okay to be upset, especially after being forced to forget your mate’s name.”

Ryan didn't stop Vinny when she moved to him, shifting to adjust herself over him. The way he sighed, you'd think he was annoyed, he wasn't, not really. He was looking over to his glass, his fingers idly running around the rim as she spoke. Honestly, he was trying not to think about what she was saying, but he knew he needed to. His mind was reeling, just reeling from so many memories that were stolen from him, and it honestly hurt to have them just running through his head. It was chaos right now, and he didn’t know what was up or down.

His other arm wrapped around her back, as she leaned against him, sighing. Swallowing, forgetting his mate’s name… Forgetting his mate’s name…

“Their face. He made me forget their face.” Not just their name, but their face. All he could ever see was Jerahmiel.

Her eyes widened in horror. “G…Gwynn’s face? He… he took… Ryan…” she gasped, wrapping around him tighter, holding him firmly chest to chest. “... Ryan… I’m so sorry.” she whispered, eyes watering. “Ryan… oh angels… fuck…” her eyes watered, holding his head to her shoulder, offering him the solace of her shirt to cry into to hide from the fact he was breaking down, if he took it.

His eyes closed as Vinny stumbled with her words, clinging to him, just taking in a slow, deep breath as he considered what he’d admitted to. A sacrilege, a violation, to forget his mate's name, let alone their face, it was horrifying. Even if he found it in him to forgive Gwynn for disappearing, would they ever be able to forgive him? Could he forgive himself? He knew the answer to the last. No.

Angels, angels, sure, angels, fuck the angels though, they didn’t give a shit really, angels had done this to them, time and time again. If they’d really cared, they’ve sent someone else in the last century, at least, to tell him his mate was still alive. Let Honesty out. Do something to help them, while they waited for Gwynn to come back to them. But, of course, the angels. Still, he held Vinny, holding her close, welcoming the comfort, knowing that she understood, that she wasn’t blaming him for feeling… feeling the way he did right now. “Thank you, Vinny.”

Justin made it up the stairs, and while he had a phone now and could call him to let him know he was coming, but he didn’t think, he was just too anxious and needed to see him, immediately. Not to mention he was right there, and the ability to pick every lock known to mortal kind if he wasn’t going to let him in. Did he really want to do that to Daddy, though? Pausing as he glanced back the way he came, before turning to look back to the front door of the apartment that was Ricky and Vinny’s home before, knocking. Knock first, then see if he’d answer.

Ricky jolted at the knock. He had been staring at the door, trying to calm down, since he came back upstairs. He was exhausted, but fear was a powerful emotion. He hadn’t felt this way in years… not since his father… His father. The angel. He gagged, covering his mouth. “Hello…? Who…?” he called, swallowing before approaching the door shaking.

Justin sighed, he sighed, Ricky should be sleeping though, if he was honest, Justin was surprised he wasn’t. Justin himself was wired, tired as well, but wired. “It’s me, Rick, just me, Loyalty.” Not Justin, Loyalty, that was more important, especially right now. Loyalty was who he needed, Loyalty was who he had known for so long. “It’s okay right now, I promise. Can I come in?”

Loyalty…. He opened the door and pulled him in, hiding into his chest, shoulders shaking as he sniffed some, holding onto him for dear life. Then he collapsed into him, uneasy on his feet. Odd… so very odd… But he held on to Justin, closing his eyes as he melted.

Justin swallowed, his arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly, “I got you, I’m here, we’re okay.” Next thing, he was picking him up and carrying him into the apartment the way he felt Ricky almost just collapse, not liking how he seemed to almost sink against him. Taking him over to the couch so they could sit. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Pressing a kiss to his temple.

Ricky rested against him, “I’m so tired…” he murmured softly, holding onto his arm gently. “I couldn’t relax… I was scared…” he never admitted he was scared. He knew it did no good, but he had to say it. “I was so scared you didn’t want… Didn’t…. That they were going to… I…” he babbled, slurring his words softly, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Nodding slightly, “It’s okay to be scared, Christopher told me that, a long time ago, our old handler always used to come down on me about it. I struggled, a lot, and he would slap me down something horrible.” Jerahmiel would punish him for it, being scared, every single time he thought he was even slightly fearful growing up, and all through his teen years, it had been an absolute disaster, worse later. Justin reached up to brush Ricky’s tears away, hating to see him cry, “I have something I wanted to talk to you about, but I, it’s… it’s… intense.”

He looked up at him resting on his shoulder, “O… okay. Afterwards… can I nap on you? You can do whatever you need but- I would very much like to stay close…” he whispered to him, blinking slowly at him, “I feel safe with you around… so much…” he whispered.

Smiling softly, Justin really liked hearing that, he’d wanted to talk to Ricky about this since last night, since the party… “Which is a part of what I wanted to talk to you about. This feeling between us, it’s stronger than I have ever felt before, and, there is, is a bond between gargoyles and… And while we are not technically monogamous.” He wasn’t explaining it right, he didn’t know how to explain it right, but Ryan had mentioned it, and Chris had mentioned it. Just last night, it was said outright about spending time with their mates, Vinny herself had said it. Justin had flushed so bad because they hadn’t even talked, let alone made that step for Ricky to understand.

Ricky swallowed and looked up into his eyes, “Mates.” he said, his cheeks turning pink, “Do… You think…?” he asked softly, “You think I’m… good enough?” he asked confused almost by the thought… Odd… very different from the confidence he normally radiated. “You’d want me as your mate…?”

Just hearing Ricky saying it, had Justin get this silly, goofy grin, while Ricky might not be feeling confident, Justin, oh Justin just hearing Ricky say mates had him feeling so purely excited about the thought. “Yes.” There was not an ounce of hesitation in his voice when he replied, even as Ricky asked. Justin not once wondered if he was good enough, despite all the rules about nephilim, and how dangerous they were. “I love you, and I want to be bonded to you, if you’ll have me? All of me.”

His eyes were wide as he looked into his, and reached up petting his hair before pulling him into a deep loving kiss, fingers tangled in his hair as he shivered. “Yes.” he answered, eyes watering as he leaned up just enough to kiss him again, eyes watering. “Yes…a thousand times… and more… yes.”

Letting him have the moment to consider it, to think as he pet his hair, though as he pulled him in, it would seem he didn’t need so much time and Justin was okay with that. Sighing against his lips, the way Ricky shiver, groaning softly as he nipped so lightly at his nip gently the way he saw his lips watering, fuck… Daddy… If he didn’t know, the others were probably waiting, and who knows how long it would take to get Honesty.

Even so, “I need to hear you say it too, that you want to be with me.” It was a good laugh to figure out Chris and Vinny were already bonded again, and that they had agreed without even realizing. Justin had a feeling it was because they had once before, their souls were made to be already.

“I want to be your mate.” He murmured softly with wide eyes looking up at him dreamily.

It was so simple to hear, so simple to say, but so massive a feeling to wash over him right then, and Justin could not get enough of it, hearing that word come out of Ricky’s mouth. He wondered if this was what mortals described with the marriage thing. No, no, it couldn’t be with the way he’d seen some of them treating the union. Some of them treating it like it was nothing but a signature on a piece of paper, it was sacrilege. This was something so much more. Justin cupped Ricky’s cheeks and kissed him again, smiling against his lips with a sigh, happily.

“I know you want to sleep, but, downstairs, you can snuggle up in a booth with me, I promise. Gwynn is in the catacombs with Chris, finding a lost member of the troupe that our former handler trapped down there… Honesty, he’s always been a bit, different, probably a little bit more so now.” Justin rubbed Ricky’s back, he really wanted to go back downstairs, but if Ricky didn’t want to go, he would stay with him, he’d promised, and his mate came first right now. They’d just become mates, he was sure the others would understand.

Ricky sighed softly, “anywhere with you… I want to be with you. I'm just so tired.” He admitted leaning more into him and hid his face against his neck, moaning. His eyes watered as he looked up at him. “Take me anywhere… as long as I'm with you… I'll be okay.” He breathed out softly, arms holding him as he sank against him.

“Okay.” Pressing a kiss on top of Ricky’s head as he leaned against him, his arms wrapped around him, not questioning anything as he picked him up. “Let’s head down.” Carrying Justin downstairs, he didn’t mind how long he had to wait for Chris in the catacombs, and seeing Vinny with Ryan, he settled with Ricky in the booth, and waited.

#chris motionless #ryan sitkowski #justin morrow #miw fanfic #vinny mauro #chenzo mauro #ricky olson #ricky horror #chris cerulli #miw band #miw #fanfiction #angels #gargoyles #band fic #monster fic #motionless in white #tw: past abuse #tw: assault

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