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walkerwords · 4 years ago

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“The Savior Sessions” Part 31 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Negan seals a deal, Daryl asks questions, Carol provides the answers and forgiveness is asked of the reader.

Word Count: 6506

Warning: Swearing, Violence, Blood

Song I Wrote To: “A Little Forgiveness” by The Rescues

Note: Quick little thing: As I am not continuing this past “Certain Doom” a lot of the Eugene/Princess stuff isn’t really a thing in this series. Also, with Michonne not on some quest to find her hubby, it is a bit different. With only two parts left, I want to start wrapping up a few things. The next part is going to be very much focused on conversation and then the big showdown in the finale! ALL OFFICIAL DIALOG IS PROPERTY OF AMC AND SKYBOUND

-----------

J.D. Salinger once said, “And I can't be running back and forth forever between grief and high delight.”

Salinger had the right idea, you thought as you lay in the middle of your floor, staring at the ceiling.

You and the rest of the group had arrived back in Alexandria early in the afternoon and you had immediately shut yourself away in your house.

There was more work to be done. There were bodies to be buried and you knew you should have been helping with the preparations, but all you could do was lay there and stare at the damn marble.

When you had returned to the group after confronting Negan, nobody spoke to you and you refused to speak to them. Not even Lydia could get you to talk, and while you knew you were being cold, you didn’t know what to tell them.

There was a part of you that felt such rage for the man that had faced you in that old shed. Nothing about the way he looked told you that he was your Negan. There were too many shades of his old self and it was terrifying, but not because you were scared of him, but because you were scared for him.

Negan had worked so hard to not be the man that had stepped out of that RV nearly a decade ago only to end up back behind enemy lines. When Daryl had told you that Negan was with her, you didn’t want to believe it, you couldn’t, but there was that small voice in the back of your head that was telling you that perhaps you had known for a while.

You had searched for weeks and never even found a trace of him. Thinking about that night when the leaders of Alexandria were debating on what to do with him, you never blamed him for needing an out. Now, you just only wondered why he thought Alpha was his only choice.

“What am I missing?” you asked to the empty room as you rolled the marble between your fingers. You began to think back to everything that had happened since that night and one moment stuck out.

The day that you and Enid had been hunting Walkers together.

You were almost positive that someone had been watching you. It was the day Beta had attacked you in Alexandria. You had thought that it was a Whisperer scout, but what if it had been Negan? Now it was only a matter of why he was doing it. Negan wasn’t one to take orders, but if Alpha had asked him to watch you, would he have?

You didn’t know what the nature of their relationship was. Hell, you didn’t even know if she even tolerated him. However, considering he was still breathing in her presence, you figured it was one that held at least mutual respect.

Then there was the baseball bat.

You had no idea where he had even found another one. Just by looking at his new weapon you knew it wasn’t the original. Lucille 2.0 was a different bat, but to you, it still meant the same thing. You had accepted that she would always have a hold on him, but seeing him hold the thing that he connected his wife to hurt more than you had ever imagined.

“There’s a reason,” you whispered. “You were right, there is a reason. He wouldn’t have given you the damn marble if there wasn’t.” Pausing, you sat up and frowned. “And now I’m talking to myself...again.”

Groaning, you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop your thoughts from racing. It was as if there was an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Except they were both Negan and one wore a Whisperer mask and the other didn’t. You wanted to reach out and talk to your family about it, but you had no idea where to begin.

For all you knew, Negan had just given you the marble as a diversion. He could just be playing with you. However, as you began to think back on the conversation you had had with him, something felt off and it was only after a few seconds that you realized what it was. He had never directly answered any of your questions. This also could have been a diversion, but you knew him better than that.

“He was trying not to lie to me,” you realized. Jumping to your feet, you ran from your room. “Lydia!” you called, searching for her, but there wasn’t an answer. “Lydia!” you tried again but were still met with silence. Opening your front door, you scanned for her.

“(Y/N)?” Rosita asked as she noticed you.

“You seen Lydia?” you asked.

“Daryl didn’t tell you?” Rosita said.

“Tell me what?” you asked.

“Lydia’s gone,” Rosita said. “She went looking for Negan after Daryl told her that he was with her mother.”

“She went alone?” you asked, suddenly very worried.

“She’s been out there alone before, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I think Negan is planning something,” you said. “Something big.” Rosita furrowed her brow and then gestured into her house.

“Tell me everything.”

————-

Negan could feel his heart racing as he walked with Alpha through the trees.

That morning, he had been nervous, but determined. The day before, he had begun to think that there would be another way to do what Carol had tasked him with. Negan thought that perhaps he could kill Beta as well or even both of them at once.

He thought about doing a lot of things. Until you had ambushed him and he heard how hurt you had sounded. Now, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to kill her and he had to do it now.

His final plan was in motion and it helped to know that Alpha was feeling rather victorious after the battle at Hilltop. Her guard was done and after he had helped block the survivors from leaving Hilltop, she trusted him. There was a part of him that was dreading what he was about to do.

No matter who it was, killing someone always had consequences. Alpha was the biggest gun he had gone up against. Rick had been difficult, but that man had had a soul. Negan wasn’t even sure if Alpha knew how to be human, let alone a decent one.

Then there was the moment he had had with her earlier in the day when she had asked about her daughter.

There was a moment when she had seen almost genuinely concerned about Lydia and whether or not she was alive after the fight. Negan had no idea what happened to Lydia. However, considering you hadn’t told him that she was dead and you didn’t seem to be acting as if you had lost a child, Negan figured she was okay.

When Alpha had begun asking questions about her, it was then that Negan finally realized how he would take out the Queen of the Whisperers and he was going to hate to do it.

Walking alongside a silent Alpha, Negan thought back to an hour before when he had gone in search of his final piece.

Earlier in the day…

Negan moved through the trees after finally losing his tails. He knew that Beta was having people watch him, but he didn’t care. Beta was dealing with his own problems as well. Negan had learned that the giant man had killed Gamma during the battle after she had stopped him from killing the one with the sword.

Negan had left camp after hearing that Beta had once again tried to kill you. He needed some air and he needed to find Lydia. Negan didn’t want to move too close to Alexandria, but he had to be close enough to intercept the young woman.

He also knew that Daryl would have figured out that he had been the one to set up the roadblocks and so he had to be smart. He didn’t doubt that Daryl would shoot him if he got the chance no matter how he felt about you.

Which is why he needed to get to Lydia. Negan stayed in the shadows of the road that led to the community. He had learned enough about Lydia’s former family to know how to get her attention. He also knew that she wouldn’t stay behind the walls long and that she would get restless.

And so, he waited.

Negan was getting restless as he waited, but at the time, he didn’t have any other options. He was ready to give up and go back to the pack when the gates slid open and Lydia slipped through the fence. Her staff was in her hand as she took a deep breath and then turned to say something to someone behind the gate. Negan figured it was either Scott or Eugene.

Lydia began to wander away from Alexandria and that’s when Negan began to track her.

He would never forget the way her expression changed from hope to betrayal as she saw him walking towards her only to see the mask in his hands.

It was only an hour later when Negan approached the Alpha.

“Alpha,” he said, “that thing you’ve been looking for…” Alpha turned to him with curious eyes. “I found it.”

A smile crept across the woman’s face and for a moment, she looked genuinely happy at the prospect of finding her daughter.

“Lydia.”

---------

“It is beautiful,” Alpha said as she stared at a Walker stumbling through the trees. Negan watched it with disdain. “Pure.”

“All I see is a bag of bones and some gnarly-ass teeth,” Negan scoffed.

“You will see. Maybe soon. And I will meet you there,” Alpha promised, looking up at him with eyes full of unrequited compassion. Negan turned away as he adjusted the strap on his back that held his bat.

“You know, I ain't exactly ready to meet my Maker, if that's what you're saying,” Negan said. “Hell, I’ve survived this long and I don’t plan on making any appointments with the man downstairs.”

“You proved yourself again by finding her,” Alpha went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “And like the young lion cub who must leave his pride, it is time to roam the Earth. Build a new pride.”

“Do you want me out there, preaching your gospel?” Negan asked. “Cause I’m gonna be honest with you, people stopped listening to me a long time ago.”

“I want you to become a lion,” she said. Negan paused, trying to understand what she was saying. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“You know,” he began, “I may not be hip on the whole Greek alphabet, but Beta is no Alpha. And if we're going stick with the whole lion thing... then isn't it the young lioness who takes her mother's place?” Alpha looked up at him and he could see the shift in her attitude at the mention of her daughter and that was when he finally understood. Lydia was not her strength, she was her weakness and Alpha could not bear to be weak.

“Walk,” she ordered.

As they moved together, Negan began to think about Lucille of all things. After you had brought her up the day before, he couldn’t keep her out of his mind.

“A long time ago before meat-lovers like him started showing up,” Negan said, gesturing to the Walker not far from them, “I, uh... I lost somebody that was close to me. Pancreatic cancer. If the disease wasn't eating her up from the inside, then the chemo was kicking the ever-loving shit out of her. And yet... I don't know. Maybe, uh... Maybe the cancer just put things in perspective. She was, uh... She was never more beautiful.” Negan paused, letting the memory of her wash over him. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about his wife in this way for a long time. It was as if he was finally ready to let her go.

“Be grateful,” Alpha said. “Death... set her free.”

“The thing is,” Negan said as he kicked out at an old root, “when she was gone, I didn't feel much of anything anymore. You know? I didn't feel scared, I didn't feel happy. I didn't feel anything. I was just... here. And that is my strength. However, someone else has taught me that that strength isn’t the only thing that has kept me alive. They taught me that we need people.”

“I thought you didn’t have people,” Alpha said.

“Everyone’s got people,” Negan argued. “Even if you hate each other, they’re still there. Still waiting. See, you are pretending. You think that it makes you strong to say that emotions aren't real, that we are animals. That is bullshit. And you know it.”

“Is it?” she asked as they approached an old cabin between two tall trees. Alpha started at it as if it held all the answers in the world.

“You’re claimin’ that you have to kill your own daughter,” he said. “Right? That’s what you’re plannin’ to do here? She’s your own flesh and blood.”

“It is her destiny,” Alpha argued. “That disease... took your wife... because that was what nature intended. She could not take you with her. But you live every day wishing she could.” Negan shook his head.

“No, not anymore,” he said, his jaw rigid. “I may have felt that at one point, but I’ve seen what a real future looks like and I ain’t about to throw that away.”

“Lydia was made for this. To be free. With me,” she said.

“You still love her,” Negan said.

“I have to do it because I love her. She will always be my baby,” Alpha said as she approached the door to the cabin, laying her hand against the door.

“You don’t know anything about her,” Negan said as he drew his blade from his belt. “She is kind, strong, resilient, and she is loved by people.” Alpha pushed open the door and beheld an empty room, stopping her in her tracks. “People that I love as well,” Negan said as Alpha turned to him in confusion, but he didn’t hesitate.

With a quick strike of his arm, Negan slashed Alpha’s throat with his knife. Alpha stared at him with wide eyes as blood sprayed and cascaded down her neck. As she lurched forward, Negan caught her, taking her down to the ground. Her eyes were boring into his, but he could feel no remorse towards the dying woman.

“I really thought that there was a chance for you,” he said, but then he was shaking his head. “But then you tried to kill the kid that is like a daughter to me. I love Lydia, and I will protect her with everything I have left. You took people from me, won the battles, but now you don’t get to win the war.” Leaning down, he put his lips next to her ear. “Thank you, for making me realize that I don’t have to be a monster.”

Negan leaned back as Alpha finally went still and the blood slowly trickled from her neck and mouth. Picking up his knife, Negan aimed it at her throat and finally finished what he had started.

----------

In the silence at the border, Negan dropped a burlap sack on the ground as Alpha’s head rolled out and landed at a pair of worn boots.

“Took you long enough,” Carol said as she met his eyes. “What took you so damn long?”

“What took me so long? Doing your dirty work?” Negan scoffed. “Oh, I don't know, Carol, I guess I wanted to get out of there with my head still attached. Shit like that takes time and I’ve been in a bit of a mood lately if you couldn’t tell.”

“I told you to do it fast,” she said.

“It's done. All right? I held up my end. Now I am asking you to hold up yours. Just walk me through those gates so I can open up a new chapter in the Book of Negan and get the love of my life back. In case you hadn’t noticed, they’re pretty fucking pissed at me.” All Negan wanted was for Carol to do as she said, make the people of Alexandria look at him, not as the man who ruined them, but the one who saved them. However, it seemed like Carol had other plans.

“I'm not going back. Not yet,” she said. Negan who was glaring at her clenched his fists.

“I go back there without you, there is a noose around my neck the second I step foot in there,” he argued.

“Then wait,” Carol said as she picked up Alpha’s head and approached the pike she had set up in preparation.

“Wait? How long are we talking about?” Negan asked as Carol placed Alpha’s head on the pike and took a step back, admiring Negan’s work.

“You're free now, Negan. Do whatever the hell you want,” she said. “Wait, don't wait, it's up to you. You did good on what I asked of you.”

“I did this for (Y/N),” he said, “not you.”

“They want Beta’s head, not Alpha’s,” Carol said. “Go home to them, Negan, I need to be alone.”

“Carol!” Negan yelled, but she just turned away from him.

“Shit like this takes time,” she said as she continued on her, leaving Alpha behind and stepping into the next chapter of her own story.

“Fuck.”

----------

Negan was pissed at everyone.

He was pissed at Alpha, he was pissed at Carol, and he was even more pissed at himself. “I’m a fucking idiot,” he said as he kept moving towards the place he had actually kept Lydia. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do and he wouldn’t be surprised if she hated him or slapped him as you had. He just hoped that she would listen to him and even forgive him for what he had to do.

What Carol had asked him to do.

Yet, it seemed that that deal was useless at the current moment. Carol hadn’t kept her end of the bargain and now Negan was the one running around with his head cut off. Alpha’s mask burned a hole in his pocket and all he wanted to do was scream.

Instead, he approached the old hunters’ cabin and braced himself for a teenager’s wrath.

“Hey, kiddo,” Negan said as he moved up onto the porch. “Sorry about‒” Negan froze as he opened the door to find an empty chair. “Shit,” he swore when all of a sudden, he was thrown into a wall and a crossbow was pointed at his face.

“Where's Alpha!” Daryl yelled as he levelled his weapon at Negan. Carefully, Negan raised his hands, his bat pressing into his spine.

“Look, whatever Lydia told you..,” he tried, but Daryl wasn’t listening.

“Where is she!”

“She is dead. She is dead. I killed her,” Negan said, trying not to think about the bolt that could enter his brain at any moment.

“You’re lying,” Daryl said.

“I am not lying. I have somethin' in my pocket,” Negan said. “It's not a weapon. I am slowly gonna reach for it.” Daryl waited as Negan pulled Alpha’s mask from his jacket and held it out. Daryl grabbed it with disgust.

“Her mask ain't her head,” Daryl growled.

“Oh, I know. I am getting to that,” Negan said.

“Well, then, get to it,” Daryl said. Negan gestured down to the weapon and Daryl jerked it away from his face, but didn’t put it completely down. Negan went on.

“The whole reason I threw in with them, was so I could get close enough to Alpha to slit her throat. Now, you talk about ‘silencing the Whisperers’, I silenced the Alpha,” Negan said and then leaned towards Daryl. “Why the hell else you think that your girlfriend let me outta that cell?”

“That don’t mean shit,” Daryl said. “Ya didn’t do this out of the kindness of yer heart.”

“Nah,” Negan said. “I did it for (Y/N). I never stopped loving them.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Daryl said.

“I never planned to leave them. I would rather die than hurt them,” Negan tried again.

“Good,” Daryl scoffed.

“Dammit, Daryl!” Negan said. “Can’t you see what’s goin’ on? You’re so goddamn blinded by your hatred for me that you don’t get what I just did! Alpha is dead and now her psycho personal trainer is gonna be comin’ for me!”

“Show me,” Daryl said. “Show me her body.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Negan said. “Come on.”

-------

Negan was getting real tired of the universe screwing with him.

“Are you fucking serious?” Negan said as he stared up at the empty pike.

“So, where is it?” Daryl asked, aiming his bow at Negan’s back.

“It was right here. I swear to God, it was on that spike,” Negan said, looking back at Daryl. “Jesus,” he swore as he realized the weapon was trained on him again. “Look, we sit here, we can wait for Carol. Or I can take you to find the body.” Daryl raised the bow higher. “Oh, come on, man. We're talking about Lydia here. Why would I stash her out in banjo country unless the whole point was to keep her safe? Unless the whole freakin' point was just to use her as bait so I could get Alpha alone? That’s a pretty far stretch, don’t you think?”

“You sure took your sweet-ass time, though, didn't you?” Daryl asked and Negan threw his hands up in exasperation.

“What is with you guys thinking I didn't do it fast enough? You didn't kill her. I did. It took a minute. I had to get her to trust me. Because I wasn't on some half-cocked suicide mission. I wasn’t exactly wishing to get my head cracked open by Beta or my brains eaten by Alpha’s ‘guardians’. I had a plan!”

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Daryl asked.

“Take me to (Y/N),” Negan pleaded. “I think that they may have figured it by now.”

“Figured out what?” Daryl sneered.

“That I’m not bullshitting you,” Negan argued. “And we gotta do it now before her pack comes lookin’.”

“For you?”

“No, for all of us.”

---------

“I don’t know…” Rosita said as you stood in front of her. “Seems… crazy, even for him.”

“He is crazy!” you said, trying to get her to understand. You had finally finished explaining your theory you had about Negan and the Whisperers. There were a lot of holes in that theory, but overall there was one central idea. “Negan’s playing double agent.”

“And you got all of that...from a marble?” Rosita asked, still not buying it.

“It makes more sense if you know more about the marble, but I don’t have the time to get into all of it.”

“What do you think about all of this?” Rosita asked, turning to Michonne who had come in mid-explanation.

“I agree with, (Y/N),” Michonne said. “Negan is crazy.”

“Not the point, Michonne,” you argued.

“Just listen,” she said. “If this was some sort of crazy plan of his, why didn’t he tell us?”

“Who would have believed him?” you asked.

“You?”

“I’m not enough,” you said. “I don’t know what the plan was or if he just wanted to take control of the Whisperers, maybe turn the tide, but I don’t think he is with them because he believes in all their bullshit. Negan is a lot of things, but that? No way.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Michonne asked.

“I can’t be,” you said.

“But what if you are?” Michonne pressed and you could see the growing concern in her eyes.

“Then, everything over the past year has been for nothing and I never knew him at all,” you said, dreading that outcome. If Negan wasn’t on your side and he had actually willingly gone to Alpha… You didn’t think you would be able to handle it. When Rosita went to add her two cents, the door to her house opened and Lydia rushed in.” Where the hell have you been?” you asked.

“With Negan,” Lydia said. “Sort of.” You, Rosita, and Michonne all shared a look.

“Explain,” Michonne said.

“No time,” Lydia said. “He’s here. Negan is here.”

“What?” you asked, unable to comprehend what she was saying.

“Daryl just walked in with him. He’s heading this way.”

“Daryl’s with him?” Michonne asked, but you didn’t hear Lydia’s response as you turned and walked from the house. The sun was starting to set over the trees as your eyes scanned for his tall form. When you finally saw him walking down the road, speaking to Daryl, you picked up your pace, aiming right for him.

Daryl saw you first and took a step towards you. “(Y/N), wait,” he said, but you didn’t listen as you walked right up to Negan, pulled back your fist, and let it snap forward, catching him in the jaw. Surprised, Negan dropped from the sudden hit.

“Shit!” Negan swore from the ground. “What the hell!” he asked, staring up at you.

“You know what that was for!” you said, pointing at him.

“I have a lot to explain,” Negan said, getting to his feet.

“Yeah, no shit,” you said and then you turned to Daryl. “You, too.”

“Call a council meeting, (Y/N)” Daryl ordered. “This is far from over.”

------------

Laura’s empty council seat felt as if a black hole had appeared in the room.

Nobody sat in it as Gabriel called the meeting to order. Everyone was glaring at Negan who stood at the side, his arms and ankles crossed. You were across from him, staring him down and trying not to unleash the fury you were feeling. You still believed that he had been playing the other side, but seeing him again after your last encounter only reminded you of the rage you had felt then.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Gabriel said.

“Maybe with a bullet to his brain,” Aaron offered, staring at Negan who in turn, just narrowed his eyes at him.

“Considering Alpha wanted your head on a stick, Aaron, you should be a bit more grateful,” Negan shot back.

“Enough,” Michonne said. “Daryl, you better start talking before anyone else starts throwing punches.” You rolled your eyes at that but remained quiet.

“Negan claims that Carol let him out,” Daryl began. That made enough sense to you, but then again, you were still pissed that you weren’t let in on the secret. “Alpha killed her son and Carol wanted revenge.”

“So she went to Negan?” Siddiq asked as he held Coco in his arms. Rosita was nearby as well. Even though it was a council meeting, every major player in Alexandria and Hilltop was in attendance. Enid was there too as she stood near Alden.

“I’m assuming she figured not many would go looking for him,” Daryl said.

“Assumed?” Michonne asked. “So you haven’t spoken to her?” Daryl shook his head and then looked at Negan.

“Carol went off on her own after I delivered Alpha’s head to her,” Negan said and then caught the look on Lydia’s face. He didn’t want her there and you didn’t either. Her mother had just been killed and no matter who she was, hearing that was not easy. Lydia seemed to be in shock as she sat on one of the benches in the back, not speaking. Jesus’ coat was around her shoulders to keep her warm, but it didn’t seem to be making much of a difference.

“So we’re going on his testimony alone?” Alden asked.

“This isn’t a fucking murder trial, Alden,” Negan said. “Then again, you were always a true crime fan.”

“I told you that one time,” Alden argued.

“Guess it stuck,” Negan said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“That’s enough,” Gabriel said. “What I’m gathering from Negan’s sudden reappearance, is that Alpha is dead, he killed her, and that was why he left Alexandria the second time.”

“See, it’s not that hard to get,” Negan said.

“Except for the fact that you helped burn down Hilltop,” Enid added.

“I had no idea she was going to do that,” Negan defended. “I tried to convince her to offer some sort of deal to the lot of you. She got it all twisted around and wanted to make you all a part of her horde. You’re just lucky so many of you refuse to die and actually stood up and fought.”

“What were we supposed to do? Lay down like dogs? Kneel at her feet?” Aaron pressed.

“I did,” Negan said. “And I guess it worked.”

“But then what? You had a change of heart?” Rosita asked.

“No,” Negan said. “I was always going to take her out, but I was going to take Beta out first if possible.” You looked up at him at that statement and he was looking right at you with steel resolve in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you?” Gabriel asked.

“She forced my hand. Told me that she was going to kill her kid. I couldn’t let that happen,” he said.

“And suddenly he’s a Saint,” Aaron scoffed.

“I wasn’t going to let her murder a kid, Aaron,” Negan shot back.

“And what about my kid, Negan? We tried to evacuate them before the battle, but you put up your goddamn roadblocks to stop us from leaving!”

“I didn’t know the kids were with you! I thought they were back in Alexandria. How the hell was I supposed to know anything? Carol sent me out there and I never heard from her. I was running around with a single goal but no idea where the hell I was going. You think you know the Whisperers, Aaron? You don’t. You haven’t even seen the worst of what they do or who they are, but I have! Now I’ve done a lot of horrible shit in my life, but what she did, I would never.”

“You can’t tell me that you didn’t like it,” Aaron pressed. Daryl then fell into his seat, trying not to get a migraine from the conversation.

“Liked it?” Negan asked. “Did I like not being locked up in a cell most of the day as I received death glares from every damn person in this place? Yeah, I fucking liked that. I liked that I was out in the world and doing something rather than sitting here waiting for this damn kangaroo council to decide whether or not to finally off me. The fact that any of you are surprised that I did this is astonishing. I thought you were smarter than this.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” you put in.

“You know me better than anyone, (Y/N),” he said. “Tell me, do you think I’m lying?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” you said.

“Don’t bullshit me,” he said, but just as you were about to fire back. The back door to the meeting hall opened and Carol stepped in. She was a bit banged up but she was alive. Nobody spoke as she walked down the aisle. She stopped and looked over at Lydia who slowly looked at her with heavy eyes. Ignoring the teenager, Carol faced the room.

“It’s all true,” Carol said. “I let Negan out to kill Alpha.”

“And you didn’t want to share with the class?” Siddiq said.

“It only worked if you all thought he was against us,” Carol said and then she looked at you. “I’m sorry.” Turning away, you stormed from the meeting hall, not wanting to hear anymore. Negan moved to follow you, but Daryl moved into his path. Negan shoved Daryl back, not caring how pissed the man was at him. He needed to speak to you and he needed to do it before there was no going back.

“(Y/N)!” Negan called as you walked away from him. He ran to catch up with you, grabbing you by the arm. You tore away from him, facing him head-on.

“Don’t,” you warned. He stared down at you, searching your eyes and then, he frowned.

“You didn’t find it,” he whispered.

“I did,” you said and his eyes lit up again.

“Then why are you punching me and screaming?” he asked.

“You lied!” you yelled at him. “You never lie to me and you just...you left when you promised you never would again.”

“I know, Baby,” he said, using a rare pet name. “I know, but this was the only way.”

“Why?” you asked, trying to understand.

“Alpha she is... was complicated,” Negan said.

“She murdered children!” you said.

“Which is why I did what I did!” He said, reaching for you. When you didn’t pull back, he gripped your arms and looked into your eyes. “See me, (Y/N), please see me and see that I am not lying to you now.” As you tried to keep your emotions in check, you failed, letting the tears flow down your face. Reaching up, you placed your hands on either side of his face and looked into his hazel eyes.

It took you a few moments, but finally, you saw it. That spark, that fire that you had fallen in love with. The same fire that everyone else saw before you did. “I see you,” you whispered and Negan sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. “I don’t know how to get through this,” you admitted.

“I know,” he said. “But I am willing to do anything to win that trust back and even your love back if I have to.” Leaning back, you shook your head.

“I never stopped loving you,” you said. “That was never the problem. I am always going to love you, but there is more to a relationship, a partnership, than just love. I mean, you were with her for so long…”

“She meant nothing to me,” he swore.

“Did you…” you hesitated, not wanting to say the words out loud but you had to. “Did you do anything with her?”

“Fuck no,” he said. “I know that she wanted to, but I couldn’t do that to you. Not with her or anyone. You are the only one for me.”

“How do I believe you?” you asked, clutching at his face.

“Believe this,” he said before pulling you to him and kissing you with everything he had left in him. Your mind wanted to resist, but your heart won the battle quickly. You tugged him further into you as you kissed him back, hard. This wasn’t one of your usual kisses, it was firm, desperate, and you were throwing your whole body into it, needing to feel him solid in your arms.

You were crying as you kissed him and you could feel him shaking. HIs hand came up to your neck and then your jaw, keeping you in place as he apologized with love and passion. When you finally pulled away, you breathed in his scent, letting his labored breathing wash over you. “You are my whole universe, (Y/N),” he whispered.

“Constantly reaching towards each other?” you quoted, leaning your weight against him.

“I knew you would figure it out,” he said, rubbing your back. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I have ever done.” Negan brushed the tears from your face as you pulled his lips back to yours in a quick kiss.

“If you ever do this again,” you said against his lips. “I will kill you.”

“And it would be an honor,” he said as he leaned back and looked down at you.

“A part of me knew, I think,” you said. “I spent so long looking for you everywhere except across the border. I think I just didn’t want to think about you with her.”

“But you finally understood?”

“When I got the marble,” you said. “I got the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle.”

“Forgive me, (Y/N),” he pleased.

“I don’t know…” you said, running your hands down his arms. He then stepped back out of your hold and in one fluid movement, knelt down on his knees. “What are you doing?”

“You once kneeled at my feet, begging for me not to hurt you and your family,” he began. “Back then, I was lost, horrible, and not capable of remorse. It took me a long time to see that what I had become was not right. You changed that, (Y/N). So, now, I’m doin’ the same. I’m on my knees, begging for you not to hurt me. I’m begging for your forgiveness.”

“Negan…”

“Please, just listen,” he asked and you nodded. “When you told me about Lee that night in your house during the storm, you told me that you never regretted what you did but that it was still unnecessary. Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” you whispered. You remembered everything from that night. It was the same night that you realized you were falling in love with him.

“I told you that you had to do it because you were protecting the people that you loved. I meant that and I still do. We are all darkened by this world, but the thing that keeps us going is doing the right thing for the people we love and dammit I love you. I didn’t think that after Lucille I was going to love again, let alone someone as kind and as strong-willed as you. You made me want to live again and you made me want to fight for this place and everyone in it. I know that a simple apology ain’t gonna cut it, but until this war is over, it’s all I got. I am so sorry, (Y/N), and I am willing to spend every day making it up to you no matter what you think of me now.”

“It’s going to take me a long time to forgive you for the lies,” you whispered as you then kneeled down in front of him, taking his hands in yours. “But,” you said.

“But?”

“I can try,” you said. “I can try to be the person you described because I love you too much to give up on you. You don’t need to kneel for me, Negan. We don’t have to kneel for anyone anymore.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “This war ain’t over, Teach,” he said and you laughed quickly at the nickname.

“I still have a target out there,” you said.

“Beta, I know,” he said.

“I am going to kill him,” you promised, “but I am going to need you by my side to do it.” Negan reached forward and kissed you softly. Pulling back, that fire was burning brighter in his eyes.

“Where do we start?”

Note: I know some of yall wanted so massive angst, but I really wanted to look at the deeper connection between these too. These two have been through too much to not see how the other thinks. The Tower is next and we will finally see Lydia’s reaction.

TAGS: @lucillethings @cameronsails @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor

#the walking dead #twd #imagines #negan imagines #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x y/n #negan x gn reader #savior sessions #walker words #ApolloLoki97 #whisperer war #alpha #beta #season 10 twd

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spice-chan · 4 years ago

Text

Runaway Omega - Chapter 4

You and Sho sat down with steaming tea, about to drink it in more ways then one.

“So...” it was you that broke the silence.

“If you want to stay, you have to know who the father of my child is, since he might come looking for them if he finds out” you explained. Plus, it’d be super weird to have your roomie’s pup suddenly showing dragon scales.

“I’m telling you this because I trust you, and I expect you to tell no one Sho” I warned, watching him nod his head and keep rabid attention on me.

“So it’s the current dragon prince Bakugo” I confessed, watching his eyes widen, the only indicator of his surprise as he still maintained his poker face.

“After being together for years, he suddenly said that I was beneath him, that I was a distraction to him.” I said, my voice broken at the memory of how my heart broke. At the look on your face, Sho’s jaw tightened.

“You might still not believe this, but I came from the dragon kingdom, I used to be the castle healer.”

Shoto wasn’t aware that the soon to be dragon king was such an asshole. Their kingdom’s aren’t particularly close, so there wasn’t much interaction between them, but Shoto already hated him.

Beneath him ? (Y/n) is a thousand times better then he must be.

“I couldn’t stand to stay there, he was set to be coronated in a few months, and he probably wanted to take the weeds out before he was king, it’s probably why he never marked me or mentioned it; he never intended to.” Your voice hitched. You avoided thinking about this for so long, retelling the tale suddenly opened up a dam of emotion. The betrayal, insecurity, hopelessness you felt after he said those words, when you laid in bed for a few days waiting for him to apologize. The self pity after you saw how sad you are, waiting for a man that rejected you.

He lifted his head, then opened his arms and enveloped you in them.

Surrounded by his strong Alpha scent, potent, yet so virile and comforting, made the dam finally break.

Your shoulders shook as a sob wrecked through you. Crying for wasted years, tears pouring out in memory of the man who consumed your childhood and early adulthood, your first love. The person who you thought, is the one.

He never reciprocated your affections as readily as you gave them to him, but you thought that’s fine, that’s Katsuki, at least he’s trying. He’ll get there one day.

But now here’s Sho, willingly giving all you’ve ever wanted from Bakugo all those years.

Your Omega lifted her head in interest, her head for once not completely filled with thoughts about the pup.

Suddenly, surrounded by his virile Alpha scent and his warm arms, your face flushed crimson, heart picked up speed as you reciprocated his hug.

Then your shoulders shook while a sob wrecked through you. Your emotions flooded and fogged your mind, while a lump settled in your throat, rendering you mute.

You cried and cried, until all your energy was sapped out of you.

When you woke up, you were still in Sho’s arms, still in the sofa. He was awake and silently staring at you.

“Oh, your awake. You passed out for a while there” Sho said nonchalantly.

You gaped at him. Had he not moved from this spot at all?

“You should’ve woken me up” you chided him.

“I didn’t want to” he said.

“Besides, there’s somethings I have to say too”

Oh, right.

He’s probably going to tell you he’s going to leave-

“My name is actually Shoto Todoroki” he declared.

An awkward silence befall you, Sho’s confession hanging in the air.

“Fuck, you’re who ?” Your question cut the silence like a dagger. The Todorokis... he doesn’t mean that he’s actually....

“Shoto Todoroki, third prince of the ice kingdom” he once again repeated, with nonchalance that doesn’t go hand in hand to what he’s just confessed.

“Sho, are you serious ?” You asked him with disbelief painting over your features.

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Sho holds both of his hands out, palms facing upwards, and suddenly, ice sprouted from his right, and a small flame lit up in his palm.

You might not have believed him otherwise.

You gasped and covered your mouth. The infamous third prince, the only dual wielder of both his parents powers. He is heard of across lands, famous for his raw power and potential.

The Sho that you shared a bed with, the one who carried groceries with you, Sho who couldn’t peel potatoes to save his life... he’s a prince ?

You were suddenly impressed with his humility. He had not shown an ounce of arrogance while with you, even though he came up from such a prestigious background. Certainly contrasts with a certain ash blond who didn’t see how a simple healer such as you would he worth his highness’s time.

God, how did he even end up here ?

“But then, why would you want to stay with me ? “ came out the simple question plaguing your mind. He has such a promising future, yet he chose to stay here and limit himself to this simple and mundane life with you.

He turned his head and stared at the wall with a faraway expression, scrutiny still evident in his eyes, as if searching for the answer himself. His dual coloured irises glinted.

He turned his body to you, and took both of your hands in his and softly squeezed them, looking at them to admire how delicately they fit in his. His thumb softly stroked your soft hands, making your Omega squeal in happiness, and heart squeal at the act of affection, at the fondness residing in his eyes.

“I pondered the answer for a while now...-“ he started, sharp eyes suddenly meeting your own ”-but it must be because of a certain cute Omega who showed me the definition of home”.

“I too, have left home, after years of abuse and neglect, Enji decided to seek redemption, and I was just... so overwhelmed. I didn’t want to stay in that place anymore, to be used for this inherited power for his selfish gains. I can’t trust that he’s truly repentant.” The temperature of the room dropped with his confession. He dropped his head and his hair fell to cover his face, as if shielding him from the world and its grievances.

Your hand reached out and swept the hair away, seeing a beautiful grey arise look up from the floor then to you.

The world somehow intertwined our fates. Two runaways, one a prince and another a healer from a completely different kingdom. One would never expect the two of us to be together, but here we are, sitting in a small living room, locked in an embrace, a curtain covering you guys from the prying eyes of the world and its occupants.

He comforted you, now it was your turn. Although he wasn’t shedding any tears, his downhearted expression spoke in higher volumes then any sob ever could. You and your Omega whimpered at his sadness.

“Sho, do you enjoy living with me ? “ you asked softly.

You fully tuned to face you, and nodded his head earnestly.

“Yes, more then I’ve ever enjoyed anything.”

You smiled at his answer, his eyes soaked in your smile, then his own lips tugged to form one 0f his own. He caressed your cheek, his smile still intact.

“Then Sho, you don’t need to be sad, we have each other. But of course, if you ever decide to venture away, I won’t stop you, I want your happiness just as much as I crave a happiness of my own.” Your smile turned a bit sad at the end, involuntarily. The thought of the stoic yet adorable Alpha leaving you behind made your Omega whine and your heart stutter in displeasure.

You were startled when Sho growled, a frown tugging at his lips.

“I’d never leave you and the pup alone” he chided.

“But Sho, you don’t really owe me anything.”

“I know, but yet I still can never find it in me to leave you, I don’t know why...” he mused, trailing off at the end in confusion.

Maybe you miscalculate how attached he is to you and the pup. The fact that he was there during your pregnancy before you even formed a bump would also make his Alpha slightly protective of you. You decided not to fret it anymore.

“Ok Sho, I’m going to take a shower. Need to unwind from all this drama.”

He nodded and smiled at you. The sight still foreign and as heart fluttering as the first time you saw it. His smile was like a warm fire on a snowy day, soothing to the soul.

...........

You squeezed your shampoo bottle, finding barely anything to lather your hair with. You sighed deciding to make do with what little you have, but your eyes caught sight of Sho’s bottle.

You grabbed his bottle and finished your shower using it, the slightly more masculine and musky scent not deterring you in the slightest.

You finished your shower and wore a fluffy sleeping dress. You smelt so much like Sho, it was soothing. Your pup seemed to be soothed by it too, you can feel it somehow.

You felt so relaxed that your eyelids begun to grow heavy.

Suddenly, you felt a kick.

Sleep was knocked out of the window.

“SHO !”

The heard rapid footsteps pounding the floor until the doorknob was opened and Sho barged in, eyes drinking every corner of the room for threat.

His eyes landed on the corner where your nest lay with your excited body on top. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He glared at you, making your stomach drop.

“Sho the pup kicked.”

The glare was wiped straight away.

“Really ?!”

“Yeah, it was right there” you said while pointing to the side of your bump where you felt the kick. You were 7 months in, so it was kinda expected. Time passes so fast.

Sho rushed over and put his hand where you pointed, and jumped when he felt a kick.

Shoto was overcome was so much happiness, he let out a purr. Shoto was confused by his own immeasurable contentment, the pup wasn’t really his, it was yours, so why did he already feel like that pup was a part of him ?

You returned the purr with one of your own, your happiness leaking into your eyes. Your little pup is kicking.

Suddenly, Sho got close and sniffed.

“You smell like me” he surmised. He seemed somewhat pleased, if you’re reading his stoic expression right. He got closer and rubbed his neck against your scent gland.

“Now you really do”

You blushed at his bold actions.

“Sho, umm, while you are here, can you scent some things for me ?” You said while holding a fluffy plushy to him. You felt shy asking something so intimate, but you wanted to have his scent in your nest for a while now. It made you feel safe.

He grabbed it from you and rubbed it against his scent gland, soaking it in his scent. He seemed like he was in a daze, walking on clouds. Sho did feel that way.

There you were, wearing a sleeping dress with a cute sleepy look laying somewhere underneath the excitement. With a bump that would make any Alpha or Beta leap in happiness, sitting there on your nest asking him to scent things.

You can’t really blame Sho for what he’s tempted to do. You were there, looking as ripe as an apple, begging to be plucked from the tree.

Sho inched closer to you, then pushed you back on your nest. Your supine form was towered over by Shoto’s while he inched closer and closer to you. You could feel his breath intermingling with yours.

Then he pushed forward, capturing your lips with his own, holding you captive against his charm. Your nose was overwhelmed with his scent, your ears filled with the sounds made by the harmony of your lips. At this moment, there was no other man in the world then Shoto. His lips were so soft, so passionate.

His hands buried in your hair, and your own found themselves in a similar predicament. You wondered why you didn’t do this before.

Then you remembered why and tensed up.

You pushed Sho away, breathing heavily, your lips a redder shade of rouge then normal, but to Shoto’s eyes, it seemed more like rubies glistening. Beginning the dragon to hoard it.

And Shoto did plan on making you his treasure.

Although, Sho reacted purely on instincts, he didn’t think this far.

“(Y/n) tell me, what does it mean when my heart beats faster around you, when I turn hot whenever you show me affection, when the world seems brighter when I see you smile.” Shoto said, taking your hand and placing it against his pounding heart. It might’ve sounded like it came straight out of a theatre, but it’s how Shoto felt. He didn’t find any other way to communicate the reason for his kissing you other then describing his unadulterated feelings. He felt suspicious of you, but was so enamored when he discovered the purity of your soul, untainted with the greed that seemed to consume everyone around him. When he saw the little habits you exhibited, when he became addicted to your smile, your happiness being his. Shoto couldn’t blame it on spice and weather anymore, eventually.

“Well...based on your symptoms, I diagnose you with love Sho” you boldly replied, and to your amusement, the male solemnly nodded, as if he was diagnosed with a fatal illness.

“I see” he replied. Your heart however palpitated in surprise when he suddenly gave you a peck.

“Will the reason for my ailment take responsibility?”

That made you pause. 7 months ago, you were with an Alpha that you knew for most of your life and thought you’d be mated to someday. But now, it seems as if you are narrating a tale from long, long ago. But truly it was 7 months. And somehow, narrating the tale makes it sound so unattached to you, something that you would be stupid to let hold you back.

“I guess I have no choice” you smiled at him, then pulled him in for another kiss.

#bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfics #bnha #bnha shoto #todoroki shoto fanfiction #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo #bakugou katsuki fanfics #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #omega!reader #omegaverse #alpha!bakugo #alpha!shouto

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tw-anchor · 4 years ago

Text

28. Deucalion and the Darach

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x04; Unleashed

Word Count: 8,853

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, talk of sex, blood

Author’s Note: Stiles teams up with Lydia to do some investigating and Olivia has her first real interaction with Deucalion and the alpha pack. Hope you enjoy! Make sure you tell me what you think! Reblog and like!

Story Masterlist in Pinned Post!

"I looked everywhere. It's like he just walked away," Scott told Stiles. "He left his car and his dog."

As soon as Stiles and Scott walked into the boys' locker room to get ready for cross country practice—which was mandatory for lacrosse players, who needed to stay in shape during the fall—Scott had started to tell Stiles about the previous night at work. Apparently, a senior that was on the football team, Kyle, had come in with his little dog. After they left, Scott was taking out the trash when he heard the dog barking. Kyle was nowhere to be found.

Stiles nodded shakily as he slipped on his gray hoodie over his practice uniform. "Okay. Was he, like...could he have been a virgin maybe? Did he look like a virgin? Was he, you know virginal?"

"No, definitely not," Scott pulled on his own sweatshirt, a giddy smile on his face. "Deaton makes me have sex with all of his clients. It's a new policy."

Normally, Stiles would have laughed at Scott's joke because they were few and far between. This wasn't a normal situation, though. He might not be a virgin but the love of his life, his girlfriend, was. There were already three virgins dead, so if Kyle was a virgin, too, the rest of them in Beacon High were screwed—and not in a good way.

Scott sighed when he saw the blank look Stiles was giving him. "No, I don't know if he was a virgin," he told his best friend. "And why are you talking like he's already dead? He's just missing."

"Missing and presumed dead because he's probably a virgin, Scott," Stiles didn't know how much simpler his explanation could get. "You know who else is a virgin? My girlfriend, all right? Her lack of sexual experience is now literally a threat to her life. And you know who keeps putting sex off? Me because I'm an idiot who wants her first time to be special."

The locker a few down from them was slammed shut by Danny. He turned to face them, stating, "I know a guy who would—"

"Don't be a dick, Danny," Stiles stopped him before he could finish his statement.

No one was going to have sex with Olivia but him, thank you very much.

As Danny shrugged and walked off to talk to one of his friends on the team, Scott raised an eyebrow at Stiles. "Have you told Liv that, you know...you're not a—"

"No, I haven't," Stiles huffed, frustrated with himself. "And I'm a total hypocrite because I told her that we shouldn't lie to each other but I—I don't know how to bring it up."

"You don't have to tell her."

"Yeah," Stiles shook his head at Scott's suggestion. "I do."

"Mr. Lahey!" Coach called as Isaac scurried into the locker room fifteen minutes late. "Happy to have you back. Not happy that you're late."

"Sorry, Coach," Isaac mumbled as he went to his locker, only a few away from Stiles and Scott; they both nodded at him in greeting.

Coach shook his head and addressed the boys' team. "I'll remind you all, cross-country is not optional for lacrosse players. I don't need you turning into a bunch of fat-asses in the off-season," he paused as Isaac and Danny took off their shirts, both of them fit. "So work on that."

Five minutes later, Stiles, Scott, Isaac, and the other members of the team were lining up outside of the mini cross-country trail behind the school. Stiles and Scott settled at the back of the group and waited for Coach to blow his whistle, allowing them to start running.

Coach blew his whistle and everyone took off. "Pace yourselves! Come on!"

Stiles started jogging beside Scott but both of them stopped by Isaac, who hadn't started running and was still on one knee where he had been tying his shoe. Just as he was about to start sprinting, Scott grabbed his shoulder. "Isaac!"

Isaac turned to face them, an angry look on his face. "It's them."

Before Stiles could even ask who 'they' were, Isaac ripped himself away from Scott and took off.

"Isaac, wait!"

Stiles shrugged and started jogging, watching as Scott started running after Isaac. He settled into pace, grateful that he had always been a natural runner, and soon overtook some of his teammates. Soon, he fell in pace with one of his classmates.

Riley was trying cross-country out for some type of extra-curricular besides student government but she wasn't used to running a mile or more at a time. She was asthmatic, her inhaler clutched tightly in her hand, and she usually took an aerobics class every Saturday. Yes, she told him all of that while he ran beside her, voice breathless because of her light wheezing.

Eventually, she started slowing down.

"I need to take a break," she wheezed as she veered off the path, pressing her inhaler to her mouth.

Stiles didn't feel right just leaving her to work through her asthma attack—or rather, the start of one—so he stopped with her. It looked like her asthma was stronger than Scott's had been; her face was stark white as she stumbled toward a tree to sit against until she felt better.

Stiles followed her and stood still when he saw the body tied against the tree in front of them. Like the others, it looked as though the guy had been strangled, had his throat slit, and his head bashed in. Another three-fold death, another sacrifice.

Riley saw the body and only took a second to let out a high-pitched scream. Within minutes, the rest of the team was gathered around the body and the police were called. Stiles barely looked away from the body as Scott and Isaac ran up to his side.

Stiles looked away from the body to glance at Scott. "It's him, isn't it?"

Scott, who was looking at the body in horror, nodded slightly.

The body was Kyle, the guy who went missing from the animal clinic the night before.

"Hey, get out of the way. Get back," Noah burst through the teenagers forming a circle around Kyle's body, Deputy Tara right on his heels. He got to the tree where Stiles was hovering, trying to get a better look at Kyle's injuries, and turned back to Tara. "Get this area cordoned off before they trample every piece of evidence."

Deputy Tara immediately got to work. "Back up!" she raised her voice to get everyone's attention. "Everyone back!"

Noah gently pushed Stiles away from the body. "Get these kids out of here!"

Stiles slapped away his father's hand and stepped back toward the body. "Dad, look. It's the same as the others, you see?"

Noah looked at him firmly yet calmly. "Yeah, I see that. Do me a favor and go back to school, yeah?" he turned way to address Coach. "Coach, can you give us a hand here?"

"You heard the man," Coach called out to his students. "Nothing to see here. It's probably just some homeless kid."

Stiles stared at him in disbelief while Scott sighed, "Coach."

Coach turned to him. "Yeah?"

"He was a senior."

"Oh," Coach sighed sadly, holding his fish against his mouth. "He wasn't on the team, was he?"

Stiles rolled his eyes just as Kyle's girlfriend, Ashley, came sprinting up to the tree, already crying. She took one look at the body and screamed in grief, a heartbreaking look on her face as sobs broke through her chest. Deputy Tara grabbed her before she could get to Kyle's body and held her tightly as she broke down into hysterics.

Noah pushed against his chest, quietly urging him, Scott, and Isaac to get back to the school. The three of them walked away solemnly, all of them feeling bad for Kyle and Ashley.

"You see the way the twins looked at him?" Isaac asked as they left the group surrounding Kyle's body.

Stiles remembered the look that the alpha twins had given the body and it seemed more like shock than anything else. "Yeah, you mean like they had no idea what happened?"

"No," Isaac said determinedly. "No, they knew."

"The kid was strangled with a garrote, all right?" Stiles spoke with exasperation. "Am I the only one recognizing the lack of 'werewolfitude' in these murders?"

As they came to stop only twenty or so feet away from the crime scene, Isaac faced Stiles with a look of disbelief. "Oh, you think it's a coincidence they turn up and then people start dying?"

"Well, no, but I still don't think it's them."

Both of them turned to Scott, who had been way too quiet for their tastes. "Scott?" Isaac grabbed his attention. "How about you?"

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest expectantly, waiting for Scott to be on his side, only for him to be disappointed.

"I don't know yet."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "You don't know yet?"

Scott shrugged and nodded toward Isaac. "Well, he's got a point. Seriously, dude, human sacrifices?"

Now Stiles knew what betrayal really felt like. How could Scott—his very best friend, his brother—agree with Isaac over him? His theory was so sound yet he choice to agree with Isaac, when he had only known him for what, six months? He and Stiles had been friends for a decade.

"Scott, your eyes turned into yellow glow sticks, okay?" he was more than a little huffy. "Hair literally grows from your cheeks and then will immediately disappear, and if I were stab you right now, it would just magically heal but you're telling me that you're having trouble grasping human sacrifices?!"

"That's a good point, too," Scott sighed, looking at Isaac; Stiles nodded in satisfaction.

"I don't care," Isaac stated firmly. "They killed that kid, they killed the girl that saved me. I'm gonna kill them, too."

Ollie: How's Cora doing?

Derek: She's still healing

Olivia raised her eyebrows in surprise, only glancing away from her phone for a second to see if Mr. Harris had turned away from the board; he hadn't.

Ollie: She's actually staying still?

Cora had always been an active child. When they were little, she couldn't count the amount of times Cora asked her to play tag, hide the flag, or go on runs. She had always exhausted Olivia, who wasn't the type to just run around for fun.

Derek: I didn't say that

Olivia huffed silently in amusement and slid her phone back into her leather satchel to turn her attention back to Harris' lecture—of which she had already knew.

"All right," Mr. Harris finished writing on the board and turned to face the class. "since inertia is a subject of which you all know plenty, why don't we start with momentum?"

"Isaac," Scott whispered from behind her and Isaac, who was sitting next to her. For some reason, Stiles was mysteriously missing from his seat beside him. "they're here for a reason. Give me a chance to figure it out before you do anything, okay?"

Apparently the boys had quite the cross-country practice that morning. Stiles and some girl on his team had found a senior's dead body and from the quick explanation that Stiles gave her before he went running off, he had been killed by a three-fold death. Another sacrifice; she wasn't going to lie, it scared the shit out of her.

Olivia glanced at Isaac to see if he was going to agree with Scott but jumped when Mr. Harris got her attention.

"Olivia," she looked over at him to see that he was starting at her expectantly. "what do we know about momentum?"

"It's a product of mass and velocity," Olivia answered easily; this was her thing, after all. "The more massive something is, the faster it's going—"

"Mr. Harris," Isaac interrupted her in order to get the teacher's attention. "can I use the bathroom, please?"

Olivia gave him a half-irritated and half-curious look. Why did he need to go to the bathroom so urgently? She quickly figured it out; he wanted to go after the alpha twins.

Mr. Harris sighed and gestured toward the door. Isaac quickly got to his feet and walked out of the classroom.

Scott rose from his own seat. "I have to go to the bathroom too."

"One at a time," Mr. Harris reminded him of the school-wide rule. The rule was supposed to cut down on hook-ups and smoking or whatever it was that students did while skipping class but she didn't know if it actually worked. The only time she had skipped class was when Stiles was trying to teach Scott control.

"But I really have to go," Scott said urgently as Olivia grimaced, nervous about what Isaac was going to do. "Like, medical emergency have-to-go."

Mr. Harris stiffened and Olivia just knew that he was going to rant. She was right.

"Mr. McCall, if your bladder suddenly exploded and urine began to pour from every orifice, I would still respond with one at a time," despite Mr. Harris' irritation, he kept his voice calm. "Is that enough hyperbole for you or would you like me to come up with something more vivid?"

"No," Scott quickly sat in his seat. "That's pretty good."

All of a sudden, everyone in the classroom heard a huge bang come from the lockers on the other side of the wall. Mr. Harris made his way over to the door and the rest of the class followed him. Olivia and Scott stuck together as they pushed past their classmates in order to see what was going on.

Isaac stood in the middle of the hallway with one of the alpha twins at his feet, beaten up and bloody. Olivia's attention was immediately captured by the other twin, who was casually turning into another hallway; she quickly nudged Scott and nodded at him and his face lit up in realization. It was clear—to them, at least—that Isaac hadn't done anything to the twin at his feet. No, the alphas were trying to get Isaac into trouble.

And it worked.

"Isaac, what the hell did you do?" Mr. Harris asked him angrily. Before Isaac even had a chance to explain, he added, "You'll be seeing me at lunch detention."

They all went back to class and before long, they were at break. Olivia and Scott escorted Isaac out of the room, Olivia holding onto his arm tightly so that he wouldn't lose control.

"Don't let it bother you. It's just lunchtime detention," Scott said as they came to a stop by Isaac's locker. "If all they want right now is to piss you off, then don't give in. They're just trying to get to you."

Isaac paused, his eyes down the hallway. "It's not just me."

Olivia and Scott followed his gaze and saw that one of the twins—the one who hadn't got beaten up—was chatting up Lydia. They watched as he smiled flirtatiously at her until she closed her locker and leaned against it before playfully patting his chest.

Olivia pressed her lips together, displeased. Lydia was her own person and everything but Olivia didn't want her cousin fooling around with someone as dangerous as an alpha who could conjoin bodies with his brother and had a hand in killing Erica.

"Now they're getting to you," Isaac commented to Scott.

Olivia stormed away from Scott and Isaac and made her way down the hall to where Lydia and the alpha were still talking.

"Lydia," she took her cousin's attention away from the twin. "we need to talk."

"We were kind of in the middle of something," the alpha douche objected as Lydia nodded at her.

"Were you?" she asked sarcastically.

"Aiden, here, was offering to help me study," Lydia raised an eyebrow at Olivia, as if to say 'get a load of this guy'.

"Really?" Olivia looked back to Aiden. "You have an IQ higher than 170?" when Aiden faltered, she continued, "No? Didn't think so. Scram."

Aiden narrowed his eyes at her and even though he could rip her apart and it did kind of freak her out, she raised her chin, meeting his gaze head-on. She wasn't going to back down.

"I'll see you later, Aiden," Lydia dismissed him.

Aiden huffed and sent Olivia one last glare before walking away.

Lydia turned to Olivia once he had walked out of the hallway. "What was that about?"

"Lydia, he's one of the alphas," she told her cousin, watching as realization dawned on her face. "Yeah."

"The one that can conjoin...?"

"Yep."

"Shit," Lydia sighed in disappointment. "but he's so hot."

Olivia didn't agree but she and Lydia had always had different taste in guys.

"Sorry—"

Olivia instantly cut herself off as a tingling sensation started in her belly and a flash of Derek's loft came and went quickly as her head and ears started to ache from the intent voices spinning through her mind.

Derek, Derek, Derek. He's in trouble. He's going to die. Derek, Derek, Derek.

She gasped sharply as she came back to reality, noticing that Lydia was giving her a worried look.

"Liv, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Olivia answered distractedly. "I have to go to Derek's."

Lydia furrowed her eyebrows. "What? It's not even lunch yet."

"Yeah, I know," her vision was flashing between normal and purple; she had to get out of there. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later."

She turned away from Lydia and marched out of the school, ignoring the surprised looks that Scott and Isaac were giving her. She quickly got into her car and set to Derek's loft. He was in trouble and if she had to guess, it was the alpha pack who was responsible.

Stiles peered over the windowsill that allowed him to look into the main office. He could clearly see his dad and Deputy Tara asking Kyle's girlfriend, Ashley, if she knew anything that could help them investigate his death. He waited, trying to listen and gain as much information about Kyle's death as he could—the walls weren't good at keeping out voices, which was a concern for the school—and there were some things he found helpful.

But he still needed to know if Kyle was a virgin.

He waited until Tara had Ashley wait outside of the office while she conferred with Noah to go up to Ashley and speak to her.

"Um, hi, Ashley," he greeted her hesitantly, reminding himself to have tact; she looked at him unsurely. "Can I talk to you for just one sec?"

After she nodded silently, he gently moved her so his dad nor Tara could hear what he was going to ask her. He was going to Hell for it, he didn't need to get into trouble with his dad, too.

"I just need to ask you something really quick and it's gonna sound really unbelievably insensitive, so I apologize in advance," he cringed and took a deep breath. "Um, was Kyle a virgin?"

Ashley jerked her head a little, surprised. "What?"

"Your boyfriend," Stiles said patiently. "was he a virgin or did you guys, you know, have sex—"

Stiles was cut off by a harsh slap in the face. His head turned to the side, he blinked in shock while his left cheek stung from the force of Ashley's slap.

Yeah, I deserved that, he thought to himself.

He looked back at Ashley, about to serve her an apology, but she was being whisked away by Deputy Tara, who was giving him a look of disapproval. They were only a few feet away from him when Ashely turned back to him.

"No, he wasn't a virgin."

Her answer had his mind racing. There were only three virgin sacrifices then, which made everything all the more confusing. Then again, the number three did have a bunch of meanings, especially for ancient civilizations. Maybe that could be something to go on...

"Have you completely lost your mind?" his dad's voice brought him out of his head. Stiles took one look at his father's angry expression and bowed his head, scratching his nose unsurely. "I've got four murders, Stiles. You see those men in there? That's the FBI. They're pulling together a task force to help because it looks like we've got a full-blown serial killer on our hands. You get that?"

Stiles pressed his lips together, trying not to get angry in response. "Yes, Dad, I get that."

"Then what are you doing?"

He hesitated for a moment. "I'm trying to find a pattern."

And right now, all he had were three virgins and Kyle to go on.

His dad wasn't pleased with his answer but he didn't yell at him again, either, so that was a plus. With another disappointed look—which Stiles was more than used to by now—Noah was on his way and Stiles had to get back to school. Thankfully, the juniors were on lunch break so he had time to visit Kyle's locker, where a memorial of sorts was set up for him.

Kyle's locker was covered in brown paper so that his friends and classmates could write messages to him and put up any pictures they might have had with him. He read through the messages, each one of them a memory of the person of Kyle. Though Stiles knew Kyle because he was an athlete and they went to the same school fundraisers and stuff but he hadn't known him very well. He seemed like a cool guy and the memories on his locker supported that.

Stiles stepped back from the locker as Boyd came over and clipped a blue card with the ROTC emblem on it to the brown paper.

"Hey, Boyd," Stiles nodded at him in surprise. "I didn't know you were back at school."

Olivia didn't tell him anything about it. She had said that Cora, her cousin who came back from the dead—which was really confusing, by the way—was still healing but nothing about Boyd.

"Yeah, I would have told you but we're not actually friends," Boyd stated.

Ouch.

"Oh, yeah," Stiles blinked awkwardly and hurried to move on. "Hey, so did you, uh—so did you know Kyle?"

"Yeah," Boyd nodded, looking back at Kyle's locker with a solemn look on his face. "we were in Junior ROTC together."

"So, you two were friends, then?"

"I only had one friend. She's dead too."

Boyd quickly walked off after that, leaving Stiles to look back at Kyle's locker unsurely. He took another minute to study it for any hints that might have led Kyle to his murder before turning to walk away.

While he walked through the hallways to his locker, he pulled out his phone to call Olivia. She didn't answer, even after three calls. It concerned him, because she should be at lunch just like he was and she usually looked through her phone while eating. She wouldn't just ignore his calls since they had made up and apologized to each other about the fight they had the week before.

He was about to call her a fourth time when he spotted Lydia at her locker, down the hall from his. He quickly made his way over to her, ignoring the annoyed look she shot him when he popped up next to her.

"Hey, have you heard from Olivia?" he asked her while shooting a few texts to his girlfriend.

Sweetcheeks: Hey, where are you?

Sweetcheeks: Why are you ignoring my calls?

Sweetcheeks: Are you okay?

"She went to Derek's," Lydia told him as she grabbed her textbook for her next class. "She had an episode."

"She did?" he asked worriedly. "Did she say what was wrong?"

"Nope."

"And you didn't go after her?"

"Nope."

Stiles scoffed in disbelief. "Why not? You know she's all out of whack when she has her episodes. Aren't you a little worried about what was so wrong with Derek that she had an episode in the first place?"

Lydia shrugged, frowning slightly. "Scott didn't seem worried."

Stiles rolled his eyes and messaged Olivia again.

Sweetcheeks: Do you need me to come to Derek's?

He was in the middle of an investigation but he would drop it for her, especially if she was in any danger.

His phone dinged:

Livvy: Everything's fine. Don't come here.

All right, then, Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

"Okay, I can't talk to Livvy about this but I can talk to you, right?" he addressed Lydia as she closed her locker.

Lydia sighed, like listening to him was the most boring thing she had ever had to do in her life. "I guess."

Stiles didn't pay attention to her attitude. He didn't have Olivia to bounce ideas off at the moment so the next best person who had the same amount of knowledge of him and Olivia was Lydia. She would have to deal with him.

"Okay, so did you know that there's a temple in Calcutta where they used to sacrifice a child every day? That's every day a dead baby, Lydia, every day!" he exclaimed as they walked out of the school and through campus to the building that held the cafeteria. "Hey, you want to know what today is? It's dead baby day. Oh no, wait, that's every day because every day is dead baby day, yay!"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because Livvy's not here and Scott, Isaac, and Allison are dealing with the alpha twins," he answered diligently. "You know about them, right?"

"Yep, Ethan and Aiden," Lydia confirmed almost bitterly. "Liv shared the news this morning."

"Good, good," Stiles nodded and continued with his theory. "So look, here's what I'm thinking. I'm thinking that the murders maybe come in threes. Ancient people love things in threes, right?"

Lydia shrugged lightly.

"So, maybe first it's three virgins and then, I don't know, maybe it's three people who own little dogs."

Lydia stopped in her tracks—Stiles following her lead—and stared at him blankly. "We have a little dog." Stiles grimaced. "We're not getting rid of Sirius."

"Look, I love Siri as much as you and Livvy but if—"

"No," Lydia interrupted him sharply as they started walking again. "And by the way, you can't discern a pattern by a single data point, so stop trying."

Somehow, he knew that Olivia would have said the same thing.

"Okay, so what, I'm just supposed to wait around for someone else to die then?" Stiles asked, growing a little irritated. "I'm just supposed to sit there and watch them die? Just wait for them to wither up and die right in front of me?"

Lydia paused again, giving him a strange look. "Wither?"

Wither might have been the wrong word, he admitted to himself.

"You know what I mean," he snapped and gestured wildly as he continued, "Die in just a hideously awful, strangulating, head-bashing, throat-cutting kind of way."

Lydia grimaced and looked away, making him feel bad because he knew that she had seen Heath's body the same way as he did.

"Maybe it's not your job," Lydia said after a few seconds. "They were strangled with a garrote and we both agreed that it was something a human would do, so...Maybe you should just leave the figuring out part to someone human."

"You mean someone like my dad?"

"No, I mean your dad," Lydia emphasized, rolling her eyes as she began to walk away from him. "The sheriff!"

When Olivia received the warning that Derek was in trouble, she expected that something was wrong and that it had to do with the alpha pack. What she didn't expect, however, was that the alpha pack—other than Ethan and Aiden—would be gathered in the loft and that the female alpha would have Derek pinned to his hands and knees on the floor, a metal pipe impaled through his stomach.

She had been taken aback by just how serious the situation was. Maybe she should have asked Scott and Isaac to come with her. Maybe she shouldn't have told Stiles that everything was okay.

All eyes went to her as she frantically pushed the metal door open and stepped into the loft. Other than the twins and the brief glimpses from Isaac's memories, she hadn't seen the other alphas that made up the alpha pack. There were three of them in Derek's loft; the female who was hovering over Derek, who looked like she could be feral and in need of a desperate pedicure to take care of her clawed toenails; a massive guy who was standing behind Cora to make sure she wouldn't move, his head bald and his muscles massive; and a guy who sat in front of Derek that she figured was Deucalion due to his seeking cane and dark glasses.

Her skin crawled from their attention; the female smirked viciously and the huge guy eyed her with cruel eyes.

"Ah, Olivia, right on time," Deucalion greeted her casually, causing her eyes to widen in fear.

"Ollie—" Derek grunted, unable to speak because the female alpha twisted the metal pipe in his stomach.

"Ollie, get out of here," Cora urged, glancing from her to Deucalion.

"Oh, no, she should stay, I insist," Deucalion stated. "Ennis..."

The big one, which was now known as Ennis, made his way toward her. Olivia didn't dare move, listening to the voices in her head that warned her that fleeing would be a bad choice. Ennis roughly took one of her arms and shoved the door closed with the other, before dragging her over to stand next to Cora, where he could watch over the both of them to make sure they wouldn't make any moves against him or his packmates.

Finally, Olivia found her voice, her eyes stinging as her eyes locked on her cousin's form. "You're killing him."

The female turned to her with a smirk and shook one of her clawed fingers at her. "Not yet, little Anchor, but I could," Olivia paled when she turned back to Derek and nudged and twisted the pipe. "Who knows if it's five minutes or five hours before it's too late to take this thing out. But, just to be on the safe side, Duke, you might want to get to the point."

"Now that Olivia's here, I can," Deucalion rubbed his hands together and addressed Derek, continuing their earlier conversation that Olivia wasn't privy to. "You see the problem with being in an alpha pack. Everybody wants to make the decisions. Me? I'm more about discovering new talents. Like your cousin over there," Olivia winced in fear and when Cora took her hand, she squeezed it tightly. "And you."

Derek coughed and blood splattered on the floor beneath him. "Not interested."

"But you haven't even heard my pitch."

"You want me to..." Derek was panting, in too much pain to speak quickly or all at once. "kill my own pack."

Olivia's eyes widened. We're screwed.

She had known that the alpha pack were after Derek as she had been privy to that knowledge since the beginning of summer but this situation was much, much worse than she thought. They wanted Derek to kill his pack—which sucked for her, Isaac, Boyd, and now Cora—and for some reason, they wanted her, too.

And all she could come up with for a reason for that was that she was an anchor.

"No, I want you to kill one of them," Deucalion told Derek. "Do that and I won't have to ask you to kill the others. You'll do it on your own. I did it. Ennis did. Kali did," Olivia guessed that was the female and she was proved correct when Deucalion nodded at her. "Tell him what it's like, Kali, to kill one of your own."

Olivia and Cora shared a horrified look as Kali answered him, "Mm," she hummed. "liberating."

"Listen to me, Derek," Deucalion drawled in his British accent. "Do you really want to stay beholden to a couple of maladjusted teenagers bound to become a liability? And believe me, they will become a liability. In fact, I have a feeling one of them is getting himself into trouble right now. Just ask dear Olivia."

For a moment, Olivia had no idea what he was talking about. Then, her gaze went purple and her mind flitted away from reality. The part of her brain—or soul, or whatever, that kept track of her pack—told her that Isaac was losing control. She didn't know why and she didn't know where, but she knew that he was having trouble.

"Isaac."

She didn't know that she had spoken her friend's name but Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis stared at her intently as she went through another episode, like the one that had led her to Derek's loft. Cora squeezed her hand, trying to get her attention—she hadn't seen Olivia like this yet—but it was no use.

Olivia's mind was split as she heard herself mentally call for Allison. She was in danger and Isaac...Isaac was with her—No, Isaac was the one who hurt her. He didn't mean it, but he was out of control for some reason.

Isaac, Allison, Isaac, Allison...

Come on, Isaac, she mentally pleaded to him. You're in control. I'm here with you and you're in control. Just hang on. Come on, come on...

Olivia came to when she felt a familiar voice rock its way through her head and Isaac took control of himself. Her wrist tingled from Allison's injury but she knew that her friend would be okay. So would Isaac.

"Fascinating," Deucalion said while she noticed that he, Kali, Ennis, and Cora were staring at her; she blinked and the purple in her vision went away. "See, the reason I'm always interested in new talent is simple," he stood up and folded his cane, his head still facing Olivia, though she knew he was addressing Derek again. "The stronger the individual parts, the greater the whole."

He unfolded his cane again, letting it snap back into place. "When I lost my sight, one of my betas assumed I wasn't fit for my role anymore. He tried to take it from me," he folded the cane again; Olivia guessed he was fiddling with it for symbolism, though she was pretty sure that her, Derek, and Cora could understand perfectly fine. "Killing him taught me something about alphas I didn't know they could do. His power was added to mine. I became stronger, faster, more powerful than I'd ever been."

Olivia shivered but tried to stomp her fear down. Although she knew that the alphas could probably smell it on her, she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of letting it show on her face of with her body language.

"I tested this new ability to subsume the power of your own by killing another one," he continued as he folded another part of his cane. "In fact, Derek, I killed them all," he folded the cane again. "I took the individual parts and became a greater individual whole."

Deucalion shook out his cane, making it snap together once again. He kneeled in front of Derek, who was getting weaker and weaker—Olivia was hearing more of his name than what Deucalion was saying at that point—and grabbed his head, pulling it up so he could feel Derek's facial features.

"You're right, Kali. He looks like his mother," he commented as he stood up again, slowly walking over to the table in front of the wall of windows. "You'll get to know me, Derek, like she did."

More blood dripped out of Derek's mouth as he spoke, "I know you. I know what you are," he grunted breathlessly. "You're a fanatic."

And psycho, Olivia added in her head.

Deucalion set his cane on the table and turned so he was facing Derek and the others again. "Know me?" he repeated slowly, his voice hard. "You've never seen anything like me."

Thunder started to rumble as he raised his voice. "I am the alphas of alphas," lightning flashed somewhere outside the building. "I am the apex of apex predators! I am death, destroyer of worlds! I AM THE DEMON WOLF!"

Olivia winced in pain and stepped backward with Cora, both of them hiding behind a pillar from the fear that Deucalion's words and alpha voice had stirred in them. Even though she wasn't a werewolf, her entire being told her that she needed to obey and cower from the alpha in front of them. His display of power and ambiance struck such a fear in her that she had never felt before.

She hid her face in Cora's shoulder and only looked up when the lightning and thunder stopped. Deucalion's glasses had cracked and when he took them off, his eyes were crimson red. His voice and demeanor had softened into a casual tone that only psychopaths could manage after such strong words he had given only a second before, "I hate when that happens."

Kali ripped the metal pipe from Derek's body and smirked when he started to fall to the floor, the puddle of his own blood soaking his skin and clothing. Ennis stepped away from behind Olivia and Cora and followed behind Kali as she grabbed Deucalion's arm and led him out of the loft.

When the metal door slid shut behind them, both Olivia and Cora rushed to Derek where he was laying on the floor. Tears stung Olivia's eyes as they coaxed him into a sitting a position, both of them sighing in relief when they saw that his wound was already healing.

Olivia glanced at the door once more; they were in deep trouble.

Having no idea what was going on across town in Derek's loft, Stiles had skipped class in order to speak to someone who he thought would know what was going on with all of the murders.

He parked in place outside of the animal clinic, glad that no one seemed to be there but Deaton, and entered the building. Deaton, dressed casually in a t-shirt and no coat—Stiles guessed he was at lunch—walked out behind the front to see how it was that had the dogs in the back barking like crazy.

Deaton gave him a surprised look. "You're out of school early."

"Yeah, free period, actually," Stiles lied. "Um, I was just headed home to see my dad. He's, uh—you know, I guess you probably heard people are kind of getting murdered again. It's his job to figure it out."

"I gathered as much from the sheriff title," Deaton stated sarcastically, though the tone kind of fell flat. It was a good thing that Stiles was fluent in sarcasm.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You know, but it gets kind of hard for him to do his job when he doesn't have all the information. And we all know he's missing pretty much half of the story here, right?

Yeah, um... You know, but it gets kind of hard for him to do his job when he doesn't have all the information. And we all know he's missing pretty much half the story here, right? So—so, then I started thinking and I remembered someone who does have a lot of information."

He saw Deaton shift uncomfortably and figured he was in the right place.

"Someone who always seems to know more than anyone else around here," he finished, giving the veterinarian a pointed look. "You."

Deaton pressed his lips together and nodded toward the back of the building where his exam room was. "Let's talk back here."

When Deaton opened the wooden gate to let him back, Stiles quickly walked through and shut it behind him, knowing that it was important to the man that the mountain ash barrier was always complete in order to protect him from wandering werewolves and the like.

"All these symbols and things, the triskeles, the bank logo, the mountain ash," he started speaking rapidly, hoping to get answers right away. "all of it is from the Celtic druids and anyone who has ever looked up human sacrifice before knows that the druids had a pretty big hard-on when it came to giving one up to the gods. You ever hear of the Lindow Man?"

Deaton just stared at him and Stiles knew that the veterinarian was intelligent and probably knew of the story but he told the gist of it anyway.

"He was a two-thousand-year-old body found in England. He was found strangled, head bashed in, throat cut—a threefold death," Stiles stated firmly. "They also found pollen grains in his stomach. Guess what favorite druid plant that was?"

Deaton picked a jar out of the box on the steel table they were standing around and pulled a sprig from it to show to Stiles. "Mistletoe."

Stiles stared at the plant for a few seconds before he looked back up to Deaton's face. "I'm just telling you everything you already know, aren't I?" Deaton didn't say anything, which was an answer in of itself. "Then why aren't you telling us?"

Deaton put the jar of mistletoe back in the box and looked at him, ashamed. "Maybe because when you've spent every moment of the last ten years trying to push something away—denying it, lying about it—it becomes a pretty powerful habit."

Stiles softened only a little. "All right, so this guy—is he a druid?"

"No," Deaton shook his head. "It's someone copying a centuries-old practice of a people who should have known better. Do you know what the word druid means in Gaelic?"

"No."

"It means wise oak," Deaton informed him. "The Celtic druids were close to nature. They believed they kept it in balance. They were philosophers and scholars. They weren't serial killers."

"Yeah, well this one is," Stiles scoffed lightly, only to pause when his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket. He answered it, seeing that it was Lydia who was calling. "Hey, I can't talk right now."

"Well, Olivia isn't answering my calls, so you're my best bet," Lydia rushed, her voice panicked. "Look, I'm in the band room and the teacher is missing."

"Wait, what?" Stiles blinked in shock. "He's missing."

"That's what I said!"

"Are you sure?"

"Actually, I'm not sure he's missing," Lydia corrected herself, exhaling deeply. "I think he was taken. Like Heath and the Kyle guy were."

Stiles pressed his lips together and looked over at Deaton, who was patiently waiting to hear about what was going on. "I'll be right there and I'm bringing Deaton with."

Twenty minutes later, after several calls to Olivia—who still wasn't answering, which was a whole other panic-inducing situation—and sneaking Deaton into the school without a visitor's pass, the two of them, plus Lydia, were searching through the band room to find anything that could tell them where the band teacher had gone. It wasn't a question of if he simply didn't make it to class, the bloody handprint on the piano gave them enough evidence to the contrary.

While Deaton listened to a recording on the teacher's phone, Stiles searched through his desk. The creepy voices coming from the speakers creeped Stiles the fuck out but he kept himself busy by going through the teacher's stuff.

"Can we get a copy of this?" Deaton asked Lydia, who stood by his side.

Lydia took the phone ands started to transfer the recording to herself so she could pass it onto Deaton.

Stiles opened the top drawer in the desk, finding nothing so far. "Hey, Doc, any held would be, you know, helpful."

"Each grouping of three would have its own purpose, its own type of power," Deaton spoke thoughtfully. "Virgins, healers, philosophers, warriors—"

A lightbulb went off in Stiles' head as he laid his eyes on the photograph on the teacher's desk. It was from his wedding, where he stood next to his gown-clad wife in his military uniform.

"Wait, wait, wait," he cut Deaton off as he picked up the picture, his mind still racing. "Warrior, could that also be like a soldier?"

Deaton nodded. "Absolutely."

Stiles showed him and Lydia the photo and added, "Kyle was in the ROTC with Boyd."

"That's got to be it. That's the pattern," Deaton declared. "Where's Boyd?"

Stiles grabbed his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time as he started to call Boyd. "He's probably home by now. I'm gonna try to get him on the phone."

He pressed the phone to his ear as Deaton looked over at Lydia, who was stiff and looking ahead of her thoughtfully. "Lydia, is something wrong?"

Lydia shook her head. "No, it was, uh," she grimaced. "I mean, I just thought of someone else with a military connection."

Stiles dropped his phone from his ear, ending the call before Boyd even answered. "Who?"

"Mr. Harris."

Stiles sighed in realization; why was their dick of a science teacher involved in every supernatural drama that ever came up in Beacon Hills? "He went to West Point. He has the honor code on his desk and everything."

Lydia bit her lip. "We should go see if he's in his classroom."

He wasn't. The classroom was empty by the time Stiles, Lydia, and Deaton entered, and Mr. Harris wasn't to be found. On his desk were many ungraded tests, though some of them had letters written in red at the top, and his briefcase was on the floor next to the desk.

Deaton looked around the room cautiously. "This is just one of many possibilities," he muttered as he came to the desk where he and Lydia were looking around. "He could have simply left for the day."

"Yeah, well, not without this," Stiles grabbed Harris' briefcase and held it up for Deaton to see.

As he set the briefcase back down, something caught his eye. One of the graded tests he had looked at before didn't hold an A, B, C, D, or F. At the top of the packet was a letter that he had never seen on graded homework before; it was a 'R'.

"What?"

"This test is graded 'R,'" he showed Deaton and Lydia the packet.

Lydia pursed her lips and looked down at the tests, grabbing another one that was graded unusually. "This one's an 'H.'"

A bewildered expression passed over Deaton's face as he grabbed both of the tests from them. He set them on Harris' desk and rearranged some of the tests until the letter grades spelt out, 'DARACH'.

"Stiles," his voice conveyed the worry on his face. "you remembered how I told you druid is the Gaelic word for wise oak?"

"Yeah," what did that have to do with anything?

Deaton had his answer. "If a druid went down the wrong path, the wise oak was sometimes said to have become a dark oak," he looked over at him. "There's a Gaelic word for that as well. Darach."

Stiles grimaced; they were in deep trouble.

Olivia would probably be scrubbing Derek's blood from her nail beds for a week. It seemed like it was everywhere but in reality, it was isolated in the puddle in front of her where it had started to dry on the floorboards as she mopped and scrubbed it away. She wasn't one to get sick over blood but she still wasn't a big fan of it—especially when she had the job of cleaning it up.

Cora was upstairs with Derek, helping him clean and disinfect his wound before it healed up all the way so that left Olivia to do the work. Isaac, the little fucker, had refused to help her clean it up when he got home from school, and she would never forgive him. She had been on her knees the past hour or so after she finished mopping, trying to get the stain out of the floorboards. She was almost there.

"I think you missed a spot," Isaac called idly from his place on Derek's couch, his English textbook opened on his lap.

"Isaac, I swear, if you say another word..." her voice took on a warning tone that had Isaac smirking to himself.

Satisfied that he wouldn't say anything else, Olivia went back to the large, soapy sponge in her hands, wishing that the stain would just be gone already. She didn't want Derek to have to see it; her cousin was more than capable of protecting himself physically but she wanted to support him, even if she had to clean up his blood so he wouldn't have to do it himself.

She heard the metal door slide open and she only stiffened for a second before looking up and sighing in relief when she saw who it was. Stiles walked into the loft and rolled the door closed behind him before turning around to look at Isaac and then Olivia.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"She's cleaning up Derek's blood," Isaac answered casually, turning the page of his book. "He had a little accident."

Olivia rolled her eyes at him and then looked back at Stiles. "The alpha pack made a surprise visit."

Stiles winced worriedly. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, but Derek was," for the moment, Olivia gave up on the blood stain, throwing the sponge in the bucket of pink water and getting to her feet. "Kali decided that he needed a pipe through the stomach."

"Fuck, that had to hurt," Stiles made his way over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "Why'd they come?"

"They want Derek for their pack," Olivia kept it simple for now; she could tell him all the details later.

Stiles, who usually had a hard time picking up silent signals that a person didn't want to talk, just nodded in understanding. Olivia was one of the people he could read the easiest—other than his dad and Scott—so he knew she didn't want to talk about it. Usually, he would have pushed her to tell him anything but for some reason, he knew that tonight wasn't the night.

Olivia looked away from Stiles' face when she noticed that Cora was descending from the spiral staircase. Her cousin was dressed in a black t-shirt now, rather than her workout clothes, and her hands were cleaned of her brother's blood.

"How is he?" she asked her.

"He's getting dressed," Cora answered, her eyes flitting toward Stiles before pointing at him. "I know you."

Olivia furrowed her eyebrows as she looked between her cousin and her boyfriend. "How do you know Stiles?"

Stiles' eyes were lit up in recognition, as well as horror and embarrassment. "We met last summer," he told Olivia before looking at Cora accusingly. "You said your name was Cara."

Cora folded her arms over her chest, looking uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, I lied."

Shit, I'm fucked, Stiles cursed himself. I'm so fucking fucked.

Olivia was still confused. "Wait, what?"

Stiles nor Cora got a chance to answer as Derek came downstairs, cleaned up and dressed warmly to combat the slightly chill air from the storm going on outside. Olivia, Stiles, Isaac, and Cora turned to him and waited for him to say something.

Derek's expression was somber as he addressed Isaac. "Isaac, I need you to leave."

Olivia shut her eyes tightly; somehow, she knew this was coming. She knew Derek better than she knew most people; it was unfortunate that he was doing this but he was trying to protect Isaac. She just hoped he wouldn't screw it up.

"When should I come back?" Isaac misunderstood his alpha's words, closing his textbook and standing to his feet.

"No, I need you to move out," Derek elaborated, a grimace on his face. "It's for your own safety."

Isaac gave him a curious look. "Did something happen?"

"It—the alpha pack��" Derek shook his head. "Look, it's not important. You didn't do anything wrong but I need you to go."

Isaac's blue eyes were wide as he looked between Derek, Cora, and Olivia. "Where am I supposed to go?"

Olivia's heart ached for him; the loft was Isaac's home. He had been with Derek since his father was killed by the kanima last spring and he had no other family to go to. She was going to offer him a room at her and Lydia's house but surprisingly, Stiles was the one to speak up.

"I don't have a guest room at my place but Scott does," he said, uncharacteristically kind—when it came to Isaac, anyway. "I'm sure Melissa won't mind."

Derek looked at Isaac and Olivia could see the sadness in his eyes; he truly cared for his betas and he hated the fact that he had to send one away from his home. "Is that okay for now?"

Isaac nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, it's fine."

(Gif is not mine)

#teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x original character

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fluerallinmylis · 4 years ago

Text

ANGST AHEAD LOVELIES!!!

NO SERIOUSLY - I HAVE SURPASSED MY USUAL ANGST LEVELS - WE ARE AT DEF CON 4 FOLKS!! IT IS FREAKING DARK FOR A BIT!!

So most of these are stated without going into specifics but I do go into the creation of children to be trained as future soldiers. I do not have any Child Psychology to back me, and most of what I am basing this from is various sci-fi movies and the TV show Dark Angel.

Heed the warnings, Lovelies. I don’t go specific but it is there.

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat!

Warnings: Child Death, Child Abuse, Institutionalized Abuse, Military Grooming, Medical procedures on minors (unspecified), Training of Child Soldiers, Possible Child character death (in later chapters), Medical Procedures, Bio-Engineering, Unethical Medical Practices, Genetic Tampering, Non-Consensual Body Modification, SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome), Temporary Main Character Death as per The Old Guard. I think that’s the worst.

(let me know if I missed something)

Title: That Would Be Enough

Fandom:The Old Guard (2020)

Status: 2/? WIP

Summary: It’s been almost a decade since the Merrick debacle. Almost as long since their wayward brother slipped into the shadows of the modern world and only sporadically checked in to send gifts. But a quick jaunt through Italy may prove the serendipity they needed to become a family again.

Perhaps even grow....

Nicky

“I apologize it took so long to get this to you, but I felt I had to ….”

“Verify the sources?”

Nicky tightened his grip on his Joe’s hand. Ever since Joe had returned from the Market, he had been upset. His love had tossed the bag of sweets on the kitchen counter and knelt at his feet, wrapping his arms around his waist and hiding his face against Nicky’s stomach. Such actions weren’t uncommon for them but to do so in the kitchen, without a single word passed between them? Joe had said that Copley had vital information for them, that they needed to contact him immediately, then whispered softly to him,

“Booker is here, with Quynh. But Nicolo, he had a girl with him…. Oh my heart, she has your eyes. I fear what the truth they spoke may mean, but she has your eyes.”

Joe had buried his head without another word then continued to hold to him as a drowning man would his last anchor.

Nile had quickly set up a secure connection for the laptop and printer and proceeded to print several dozens of pages. They had all looked over the first few pages, then Nile had immediately taken to the laptop while Andy called Copley. He had quietly coaxed Joe up and onto the couch, where they were now, with his arms holding his other half as he pressed tight against Joe’s back. Even after looking at several of the documents himself, he could scarcely believe what they said.

“The facility where this data came from has been wiped from the map,” Copley said from the video connection on the laptop. “Whoever went after them, there is barely any of the structure left that hasn’t been razed to the ground by fire or explosives. But, there IS enough to confirm my suspicions.”

“Copley, these are kids,” Nile stressed, waving a handful of papers. Copley himself nodded, running his hand over his face.

“I am aware. It appears that Dr. Mita Kozak, Merrick’s lead scientist during the Debacle, took what information and samples she could when fleeing. She found funding with another private think tank and then proceeded to,” at this point Copley refers to his own papers, “‘use bio-engineering to enhance tomorrow’s soldiers.’ From the data and documents Booker sent to me, She used the samples she took from all of you, as well as his initial samples, and used illegal cloning practices to try and –”

“What ‘initial samples’?” Nicky found himself interrupting. All eyes turned to him, then to the laptop where Copley looked confused.

“The initial samples Booker gave when he brokered the original deal.”

“What ‘original deal?’” Andy demanded.

Even hundreds of miles away, Copley leaned away from her. “The original deal with Merrick was that he would receive the samples from the base kill room and Booker as a live and only test subject. Booker was to walk in to the building two days after the mission and surrender himself. It was Merrick who changed the arrangements and demanded all of you. When he brought you to my home, he had said he would show you the blueprints and plans to get your men out in trade for himself. Your new mortality and Keane derailed that plan.”

“And when were you going to tell us this?” His lover growled in his most dangerous tone. He himself was quickly reaching the point of murder. Sebastien had made a deal only for himself? He hadn’t sold ALL of them to Merrick? Then why were they just hearing this now?!

“Booker said that he would tell you before you made your verdict,” Copley stated and silence reigned. A quick search of faces told that their brother had done no such thing, hadn’t told anyone. It might not have made a difference given the hurt and betrayal they felt then, but to know that he had been taken advantage of as well? That he had not gladly led them to that madwoman, but had been tricked alongside them?

“We’ll get back to that,” Andy announced then turned back to the pictures in her hand. “Tell us about what that Bitch did.”

Copley took a deep breath before beginning, “From the notes and information Booker saved, Kozak used genetic cloning to attempt to create more Immortals. During the initial tests, one set of embryos were injected with a contaminated sample of two of your DNA, instead of receiving a single donor sample. Of the,” Copley paused here and swallowed heavily, “‘the Alpha batch,’ only the that set of embryos survived past the first trimester. When they did amniotic testing to see why, they discovered that the two samples had somehow merged to create a new DNA helix. Kozak then purposely did so with 4 more embryos, and each survived to birth.”

“How many?” he forced past the tightness in his throat. Copley ran his hand across his face again then sagged against his chair.

“The first were two embryos were implanted into the same woman. Due to contaminated lab protocols, both Nicky and Booker’s DNA was injected after the embryonic DNA was removed. One boy and one girl were born on October 19th, seven years ago. The ‘Beta batch’ were four embryos injected with only Nicky and Joe’s DNA.”

“Six children,” Joe whispered, then turned to face him. Tears welled in his eyes because this? This was a dream that NONE of them had dared to dream, an impossibility both because of their Immortality and then again from who they were. But Six? He had SIX CHILDREN?! A daughter and five sons – two by his Sebastien and four by his Yusuf?!

“Three,” Copley whispered and those tears fell for entirely different reasons. Copley cleared his throat then met them with solemn eyes.

“One of the boys died as an infant, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome is listed as Cause of Death. Another had an adverse reaction to a procedure and was unable to be resuscitated. One fell during what is termed a ‘training exercise.’ He died on impact of a broken neck. The girl was deemed ‘undesirable for future training’ and was left while the remaining were sent to another facility. The last records state that they were attempting to harvest her bone marrow due to an accelerated healing factor roughly an eighth of your own. They list a time of death shortly before the destruction of the first lab and facility – ”

“No, she lives,” Joe argued. “She has Nicky’s eyes and Booker’s hair and she – She lives! Booker had her in the Market earlier, and he mentioned Quynh protecting them both!” He stood quickly rounding on Andy with a calm desperation few ever saw. “That level of destruction, of complete annihilation? To protect one she considers family, Andy? She would do all that more and if she started her attack as they performed these tests –”

“We contact Booker first,” Andy said lowly. She was still in shock but hope and experience made her push thru, as did their own. “We meet him first and find out what is true or not. Copley, he gave you a number?”

The younger man nodded. “He is currently staying in a Villa, twenty minutes past the opposite side of town. Satellite imagery shows three heat signatures. I’m sending the directions and his number to your phone.”

“While we’re doing this, dig into anything you can about Kozak and where those other kids are. Any and all information, I don’t care how outrageous.” At this, she reached out and grasped Joe by his neck, bringing him close to press forehead to forehead. “We will find them and we will bring them home.”

“Everyone,” Joe said with tears in his voice and Nicky could only close his eyes and breathe deeply.

“Everyone,” Andy repeated.

Nile and Copley began discussing other matters but he blocked them out as his chest tightened and grief swelled within him. Gentle hands clasped his own and he opened his eyes to Andromache pulling him to stand, hugging him tightly and whispering that “We WILL find them. I PROMISE you, we will.” He could only nod, no words escaping his throat, and then HE was there. His Yusuf, His companion for this entire immortal journey, his soul and heart given physical form. He took his hand and led them away, to their room. Try as he might to keep quiet, he choked twice in an effort to keep his tears inside, but then the door was shut and he was surrounded by the sight/touch/smell of home…..

…. and he broke….

His tears and grief fell from him in agony and he clutched to his man with all the strength he had been given. He grieved for the young lives that had been lost, for the children they would never know. He grieved for the horrors that-that monster would have visited upon his children, THEIR CHILDREN for they would ALL be THEIR CHILDREN if he had his say. He grieved for the time lost, for not being there to see all their firsts, their joys or fears, their likes and dislikes and that which made them them. He held tight to the other half of him and grieved in his Husband’s arms even as rage boiled low and fierce in his heart.

“They will die screaming,” he promised in a hiss of breath, faces pressed close and staring into equally grief-stricken yet enraged eyes. “We will end all of them then we will live.”

“We will bring Him home,” and he shuddered in relief because Yusuf could only mean one Him when he spoke to him in that voice, “And we will raise our children. And if any try to stop or take them from us….”

Here they both bared their teeth in snarls that they remembered from the first glimpses they had across a battlefield. Yes, should any try to stop them, they would bring down 900 years of war upon their entire bloodline. They will wage war and they will WIN but for now….. Now they will grieve the children stolen from them before they even knew. They will rebuild each other’s broken parts and then be stronger for it. But for now, they wept.

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stilessdylanobae-ddixonlove · 5 years ago

Text

Surviving The Walking Dead - Wanted (Chapter 17)

Author: @stilessdylanobae-ddixonlove

Characters: Daryl Dixon, Carol Peletier, Michonne, Lydia, Evan, Will Barbor, Magna, Aaron, Rosita, Eugene, Alden, Mary, Negan, Beta, Dog & Reader.

Summary: Y/n and Dog struggle with recent changes, Daryl meets with the council, Aaron learns where the horde is being kept and a group sets out to find you.

Note: I hope this chapter comes together okay. I wanted it to be a group decision to find you.

Also, consider the idea that certain people are so forgiving of you because you aren’t the only one who knows of this secret plan with Negan. (;

Warning: Cursing, graphic violence, death, painful losses/flashbacks, fluffffff.

Chapter Seventeen - Chapter Eighteen

You were in and out for a bit, slowly forced awake by Dog’s constant whining. When your eyes finally fluttered open, you reached an arm out beside you but felt nothing but a wad of blankets and empty bed. You sat up, noticing Daryl’s vest laid perfectly in his place.

He was gone.

You felt the devastation building, the pain in your chest and throat as you tried to hold back the tears. You succeeded in keeping all but one; a single tear fell in unbelievable despair, as you quietly wept over the thought of never seeing him again.

You were on your own now.

——————

Daryl was in a daze back at Alexandria. It’d been another three days and he’d spent most of it quiet and closed off. He sat inside Carol’s house that afternoon, incessantly tapping his leg while he waited for Lydia to get back from school. He thought long and hard about a way out of this mess. Michonne was on her way to Oceanside to help there for awhile, so he couldn’t talk to her yet.

Carol descended the staircase and noticed the back of his head resting against her couch. She paused.

“Aaron's going to talk to that Whisperer again tonight.” She said to him. He groaned. “Are you okay?” She asked.

Daryl turned and reached for his crossbow. “Mhm.” He mumbled. “Are you?”

He stared a moment, then stood and made his exit. Carol stepped out on the porch and watched him stop and chat with Lydia for a moment as she returned. He patted her shoulder and walked away.

“Where’s he going?” Carol greeted.

Lydia shrugged and sat down underneath the window. Her face was still covered in cuts and bruises. “I don’t know.” She stated, simply. Carol nodded and went to sit next to her with a long and drawn out sigh. “One of these days, he’s gonna leave and not come back here.” Lydia’s lips quivered.

“No.” Carol turned to her. “He’ll always come back. Is that what you’re worried about?” She asked.

“I’m worried that none of us will be the same without her.” Lydia swallowed harshly. “Negan did save my life and yet, she was the only one who could see any good in him.”

“You don’t understand the pain he’s inflicted.” Carol informed the teen.

“Maybe he’s changed. I did.” She said. Carol looked to her, reeling. She wondered if what she said had some truth to it as she looked to the young girls wounds. She thought about what they could have been and reached for her antibacterial cream in her pocket that Siddiq gave to her. She rubbed her thumb over the lid, lightly.

“Here. It’ll help with the bruises.” Carol ultimately handed her the container.

“I’ve had worse.” Lydia replied, taking it anyway.

“So have I.” Carol said with a harsh stare. “So what do you know about Mary?”

“Just that the one’s who watch the horde are loyal.” Lydia winced. “It’s like, I hate them but I still know them.” She rested her head back against the brick wall with a sigh.

Carol shook her head. “Yeah but Alpha drew a line and you have to choose a side.” She urged.

Lydia sniffled. “I wish I’d left when Henry asked me to. I wish we all did, like we talked about.”

“So do I.” Carol lamented. “I want you to come with me somewhere tonight, help me with something.” Lydia hesitantly agreed.

___________

That night, Aaron met with Mary again as planned. But she seemed off this time-more distant. And to his surprise, after he got close she grabbed him from behind and put a knife to his throat. She was feeling beyond overwhelmed, growing afraid and desperate to see her nephew.

“Don’t do this. It isn’t you.” Aaron told her as she pushed the blade a little harder into his neck.

“You have no idea who I am.” She spit in his ear. Carol , who was spying on them from afar, hoping to hear the location of the horde quickly appeared through the trees with her bow drawn.

“Let him go!” She yelled. Lydia, who came with her upon request showed her face next while Mary was suddenly blindsided with confusion and betrayal at the sight of her. She dropped the knife and ran. Carol couldn’t help but smile for a split second, wanting her to see Lydia all along. She wanted to send a message of uncertainty. She wanted to make the Skins question their loyalty to Alpha. Lydia quickly stepped in front of Carol, panic stricken. “Your mother told her people that she killed you.” Carol explained Mary’s behavior. Lydia’s heart dropped and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“You said you wanted my help!” Lydia hollered. “You used me to get to them.” She cried.

“I’m sorry.” Carol admitted. Lydia looked back and forth between Carol and Aaron, unsure what to do next. Her tears burned the cuts on her face but she was too angry to care.

“You said earlier you wanted me to choose a side.” She muttered. “Well fine, I choose mine!” She concluded, preparing to leave.

“You can’t go out there, it’s dangerous!” Carol tried to stop her. Lydia shook her head in disbelief. “Listen, I’m sorry about what just happened but it will help us. All of us! You, Daryl and Y/n too.” Lydia huffed and turned to walk away. “I want to go find Y/n and bring her home! I want to keep her safe too, can you help me do that?” Carol begged. “We can go to Hilltop, get Evan and Will. They will fight for her to stay.” Lydia’s breathing slowed as she finally began to calm down. “Okay?”

“Fine. I’ll go. Alone, I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now!” Lydia hissed before disappearing into the woods. Aaron looked to Carol questionably with disapproval.

_______________

Daryl stood in the middle of the latest council meeting, his arms tightly crossed against his chest and his head hung low. Michonne returned home only a few hours prior, bitter and frustrated over the details of Siddiq’s death. She sat impatiently listening to the other discuss Dante and all that they had trusted him with; how he helped treat the people here, many times. It was truly repulsing. Aaron leaned back in his seat and rubbed at his beard.

“Alright, enough.” He cringed, throwing a hand up to silence the noise. “Dante will pay for his actions, Michonne already said he will be put down. We are here to simply say that we need to take different precautions when it comes to allowing new people into the communities.”

“Clearly.” Rosita grumbled from her seat, looking directly up at Daryl who scowled uncontrollably.

The room was finally dead silent.

“If you got something to say, say it!” Daryl angrily threw his arms down as he skimmed the council members with his tired and heartbroken eyes.

Michonne took in a deep breath from her seat at head of the table. “Daryl, we’re all just trying to make sure everyone is safe. After Dante and after what Y/n did, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the people here are worried.” Daryl shook immensely and went to lean against the windowsill.

“No.” He spoke firmly. “Get it all out of your heads because Y/n ain’t like that. You’re all scared and I get it. But you are wrong about her!” His voice grew louder. Rosita shook with frustration as Eugene put his hand on top of hers. She grunted while Daryl glared her way for several quiet moments. “This is why she left!” He muttered.

“Maybe that means she had something to hide.” Alden spoke up, placing his hands together firmly on the table in front of him. “The guy never should have been allowed to live and that’s on Rick. But now, it’s on us.”

“You better stop talking, kid.” Daryl snapped. Alden sighed heavily in response.

Michonne made her way over to where Daryl stood, hunched over near the window. “Listen, you are the best damn judge of character I know.” She turned to the group but she only spoke to Daryl. “I trust you and as I mentioned before she let him out, Negan is not our biggest problem anymore. Now, Hilltop and Maggie...” She paused, looking back to him. “They might be a different story but for now I promise you that no one here is going to go after her.” Michonne reassured her friend. Aaron stood and left the room, forcefully slamming the door behind him while Michonne winced.

Daryl crossed his arms again. “Lydia is still out there too. We don’t know what that means yet.” He motioned to Carol who stood in the back of the room quietly.

“I know.” Michonne paused as Carol stepped out of the shadows.

“Mary came back, she told Aaron where the horde is.” Carol spoke about the only thing that interested her during today’s meeting.

“We’re gonna trust a Whisperer now?” Daryl questioned, looking to Michonne.

“You wanna do nothing?” Carol scowled.

“Alright, I have to go back to Oceanside for a bit.” Michonne said. “But I know I can’t stop you from checking on this. It’d be better if you got a group together.” She suggested. “Maybe you’ll see Lydia along the way.” Daryl ultimately nodded in agreement, knowing Carol would go alone otherwise.

_____________

You finally felt hungry. Finally felt good enough to get out of bed. You decided it was time to pull yourself together and go hunt. You slipped a sweater over your head, your body aching and your head still slightly spinning. You weren’t sure if you had came down with the flu or if your anxiety and stress was physically attacking you. Maybe it was both. Your long y/h/c hair was greasy and matted, therefore driving you crazy. So you threw it up into a messy bun and thought about heading for the edge of the border. If you remained patient and quiet, you could possibly check up on Negan and wash at the river without running into any Whisperers. You gathered some supplies while Dog sat down and stared up at you, his head cocked to the side.

“You gotta stay here. This could be dangerous and I have to be quiet. No running, no barking. I’ll come back for you, boy.” You spoke out loud for the first time in days, your voice harsh and raspy. You cleared your throat and made your way up the stepladder and out of the bunker. The outside world was bright and hurt your eyes at first. You stared into the empty field surrounding you, wondering what was in store for you next. Regardless, you had to see this plan with Negan through.

You made your way deeper into the forest, the ground getting softer and muddier under your boots as you got closer to water. All was quiet, except for the sound of the river. You could see it now, from behind a tree where you sat and watched for almost an hour to make sure it was safe.

No walkers. No Skins.

You opened your bag and pulled a large piece of bread from it, still savoring what you took from Alexandria, and you took a bite. Next you took a sip from your water bottle and then decided to attempt a bath. You pulled out a small bar of soap in plastic wrap you’d been saving for this moment, held it tight and stepped out into the open.

You found a spot where the river was shallow and well shielded by large bushes and proceeded to remove your shoes, jeans and sweater. You left your tank top and underwear on and slowly climbed into the freezing river. Though, it felt good and refreshing. You dipped your head back into the water and scrubbed your hair with the bar of soap generously. Then you rinsed. As you sat there for a minute soaking, you began to hear soft whispers. You slowly moved to the edge of the water and under a cliff of dirt and exposed roots. You could hear them above you, Beta and a few others.

You remained completely still.

“Hey, you see that?” You heard one Skin say from behind his mask. Beta looked over to see your backpack laying against a stump below them. They turned around to make their way down the hill and you quickly reached for your belongings, grabbing your knife and pistol first before running behind some thick bushes. You covered your mouth, your hair dripping wet down your shivering body.

“You, Jolly Green Giant! The Queen is asking for you.” You suddenly heard in the distance. It was Negan, you knew his voice. The men skimmed the area, then gave up and left. Beta grunted the whole way and once it was quiet again, you stood from the bushes, stealthily making your way farther out. You could see Negan now, he was wearing his infamous leather jacket, covered in dirt and blood and staring off in the distance. “You’ve got some serious lady balls.” He said a little louder. “Come on, I saw you.”

You stepped out in front of him in your underwear, soaking wet and he looked you up and down, smiling.

“You look like shit.” You greeted.

“I can’t say the same, Princess.” He laughed.

“So?” You harassed, pulling your wet hair back up into a bun with the hair tie on your wrist. Then you set your bag back down to slip your jeans on while Negan watched your every move.

“Well, seeing as I’m sure you can’t stay for dinner I’ll make it quick. These sickos have me digging holes to roast big ass pigs for them, they’ve sent walkers to kill me...oh, and let’s not forget Alpha's booty call yesterday.” He shrugged. “It’s been awesome.”

“You had sex with Alpha?” You frowned. He smiled.

“Jealous?” He teased.

“No, that’s just disgusting.” You shook.

He grinned uncontrollably. “Listen, you don’t have to worry about me. Everything is going according to plan.” You stared. He got closer, forcing you backwards until your back stopped against a tree. He grinned. “Now, get out of here before you get seen and I can’t help you.” He spoke quieter. You scowled, picked up your bag and turned to leave. Negan quickly began covering your footprints.

_____________________

The next day when the sun was at it’s highest point in the sky, Daryl watched fellow Alexandrian’s finish setting up for Siddiq’s service that would happen in the next few minutes. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked over to where their fallen friend was now buried in the dirt. But Daryl quickly fell distracted when he spotted Lydia re-enter Alexandria’s front gates accompanied by Will, Evan and Magna. He raised his right hand up to shield his eyes from the bright light, making sure he was seeing correctly.

Daryl then eagerly approached them. “Hey, what’s going on?” He yelled. “Did you go to Hilltop alone?”

Lydia guestered to those she brought with her. “They needed to know what happened with Y/n and that Negan wasn’t here anymore.” Lydia explained herself. “Carol thought-”

“Carol asked you to do this?” Daryl questioned and she nodded. “Why?” Lydia rubbed her hand, awkwardly as Magna stepped forward impatiently.

“We wanna help with the horde." She announced. Daryl stared for a moment. “We heard you needed people so here we are.”

“If you’ll have us.” Will added, remembering the circumstances of the last time they spoke.

“Alright.” Daryl hesitantly replied.

“So, where is Y/n?” Will then changed the subject, awkwardly.

Daryl painfully eyed the tall blonde. “She won’t want you out looking for her, trust me. But I promise she’s safe.”

Will gulped. “Does she know about all this though?” He wondered. Daryl nodded. “Look, not to step on any toes here but her and Negan’s relationship was always complicated, she saw things in him that no one else ever did. It was infuriating and the bastard wanted me dead but I have to believe that if she helped him, it was for a good reason. Y/n’s loyal but she’d never put me or anyone in danger.” Will defended you in front of everyone.

“I know that.” Daryl spoke firmly.

“So do we.” Carol suddenly appeared with Aaron.

Daryl looked to her best friend as she smiled up at him. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Daryl quickly asked her.

“We’re gonna go get Y/n.” Lydia finally announced. “On the way to find the horde.”

“What?” Daryl questioned. His eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open.

Magna huffed. “Yeah, I always liked her. And honestly now none of us have to see Negan’s creepy face again.”

Daryl turned to Aaron and simply raised an eyebrow. “I don’t like it, but she’s family. I don’t think she did it to hurt anyone.” Aaron struggled to admit.

“You said Y/n wanted to help and honestly we could use it.” Carol noted and all of Daryl’s confusion and stress left his face instantly. “She’s one of us.” She shrugged, then grinned at Lydia sincerely with her lips pursed as if to apologize once again.

“Does Michonne know about this?” Daryl wondered.

“Yes.” Aaron answered for her.

“And Maggie?” Daryl continued, looking to Evan and Will. He knew she would never agree to it, you were too close to Negan. “Eugene, Rosita, Ezekiel? You could piss a lot of people off here, maybe put her at risk.” Daryl voiced his concerns.

Evan furrowed his brow. “She wouldn’t want to sit on the side lines.” He quickly replied.

“She’d want to help keep you safe. And me,” Lydia stepped forward. “All of us.”

“Enough of us want her here, she’ll be okay.” Carol went on. “We can deal with Maggie and Hilltop later.” Daryl’s heart fluttered with relief and knew he couldn’t help but give in. “You don’t have to be alone, Daryl. Let’s bring her home.” She finished. Daryl nodded.

“So where’s this horde supposed to be at?” Evan asked, wanting to protect the place they happily called home just as much as everyone else.

“Sunken field on the edge of the national forest.” Aaron responded.

“We can leave right after the funeral.” Carol mentioned. “We good?” She asked before embracing Daryl in a big hug. He smiled gratefully.

____________

Daryl led the way back to the bunker-back to you. The anticipation was growing rapidly within him but he remained focused. Carol and Lydia followed closely behind while Magna, Aaron, Evan and Will stayed a little farther back to keep their eyes open for anything unfriendly.

Daryl pulled away some small weeds, revealing the large metal door below. “Y/n!” He called as he made his way inside.

Silence. Not even Dog was there to greet him. “Daryl?” Lydia questioned from the field above.

“She’s not here.” He hollered back, looking around the empty room. His vest was gone, along with Dog and your backpack. He rubbed his chin in thought before climbing back up the ladder.

The truth was you were running low on supplies and still needed to hunt. So after your run in with Negan, you went back for Dog and left for your old neighborhood. As you made your way through the deserted area, seeing a couple more walkers than the last time you were here, you decided to once again head for Will’s house. You hoped your remaining stored items would still be there. The houses continued to crumble and rot away around you more and more each time you came.

When you reached Will’s kitchen, you began opening and sifting through cupboards. Each one empty. Until the last one on the end. It had a jar of peanut butter, half empty with the marks of Daryl’s fingers still in it from last time. You scooped out a fair amount and let Dog lick it from your fingers. Then you stuffed the jar in your bag. The only other thing was a single can of peaches. You stuck your knife in the top and cut away at the lid as much as you could before drinking it’s contents. When you finished and set the can down, you noticed the fridge had been knocked over in front of the entrance to the living room. You stared out passed it, where the living rooms far wall and part of the roof had completely caved in and now littered the couches. You could see the outside world and how it had begun to take over. Weeds and other plants that were pushing through the broken wood floor and climbing the walls as well as a corpse, one of a man who couldn’t of died too long ago that laid under the rubble. You could just barely see his arms and the side of his head. People had been here since your last visit. Suddenly, Dog began growling as a walker spotted you and tried to enter the house. You stepped over the broken boards and to the opening where it was crying out for you. Then you jammed your hunters knife into it’s already cracked skull. You stared out into the world after it fell, waiting for the possibility of others. But none came.

Will’s house was no longer safe. Exposed and taken over, it belonged to the dead now. You lowered your head and closed your eyes, giving yourself a moment to grieve before climbing back over the fallen fridge. You opened the front door and suddenly found yourself staring at your house. You hadn’t been there since the start, unable to go inside.

Until now.

Your breathing increased, the thought of seeing your childhood home again frightening you way more than the dead. You and Dog crossed the street and stepped onto the porch. You looked to the familiar white door and thought about your sister. You could see the child version of herself running out of it to find you riding your bike on the sidewalk. Then they both disappeared as you came back to reality and Dog whined.

You peered inside the large window, passed the dirt. But all you could see was a tent, blue in color that was blocking the rest of the room. With your knife still firmly in your hand, you slowly turned the doorknob and went inside. You fiercely looked around, your good memories quickly being overtaken by the bad. You looked to the cream colored carpet that was now dark brown. Except in front of the sliding back door, where it was still red tinged. It took you back to when your neighbor came rushing in to warn your family before being eaten alive in front of you all. You remembered your father locking the rest of your family in the pantry while he successfully killed the dead and removed your neighbors body, even though you’d eventually all come to see much worse. You thought about how he then guided you to his truck, where you abandoned this place all together.

Only to end up back here, alone. The lone survivor of your family.

You suddenly heard a rustling at the door and crouched to hide behind the abandoned tent, clearly left here by a stranger sometime between then and now. Will and Evan barged in, almost frantically. You stood with shock, your weapon lowered. You let out a large breath of relief, instantly losing your stiff posture. They turned to you, Evan with a slow smile and Will with a serious and fixed gaze until he too lowered his weapon-a rusty lead pipe. You smiled as they ran to hug you. Then you looked up to see Daryl step inside with Lydia, Aaron, Carol and Magna. Your eyes focused on only his, the air being stolen from your lungs. You swore your heart stopped momentarily as Will and Evan stepped away and he got closer.

Your face hardened but a tear escaped your left eye. “How?”

“I’ll always find you. That’s what you said to me once.” Daryl replied, swinging his crossbow back onto his shoulder. You looked to Lydia with a smile and she ran to hug you next. You held onto her, resting your cheek against hers until your eyes moved to Daryl again, who pulled you in by your clothing-by his vest you were wearing. “It looks good on you.” He said, wrapping his muscular arm around you tightly. Your body fully relaxed against his. He kissed the top of your forehead and let his lips rest there for several minutes as you breathed in his familiar scent.

“Y/n, we want your help.” You heard Carol say as you let go of Daryl and looked to your friends, questionably awaiting their reason for being here.

____________

@jodiereedus22 @dashesoflipstick @theunofficialduke @dixonluvv @nikki082489 @jordangdelacruz @lunatheumbreon @dbtvluvI

Thanks for reading! I am super excited about what’s to come.

<<Chapter 16, >>Chapter 18

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixion imagine #Norman Reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #Jeffery Dean Morgan #jeffery dean morgan fanfiction #negan #negan fanfiction

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phlintandsteel-ao3 · 5 years ago

Text

Before The Beginning

"Do you think of me, while you're out building stars?"

A flutter of wings.

A whisper in the spaces between their atoms.

Red hair lit up like its own halo, like Raphael is twice as holy, twice as important as any other angel.

And he is...

He is.

"Every moment, angel."

<//>

The moment after the Heavens are created, they are drawn to each other. From the dawn of existence. Time hasn’t been invented yet, so there’s nothing to mark the passage. There is only brushing against their brethren, light interweaving as they rejoice.

When She gives them corporations, it makes many out of one, and secretly, not all are happy with it.

Raphael misses belonging. But when fingers run through his hair, marveling at the color, at the curl, he recognizes.

“Oh. It’s you.”

A nod.

“Your hair is the color of flames.”

“Yours is the color of starlight.”

They explore their new forms, tracing each other with fingertips, then palms, then pressing close in a snug tangle of limbs.

If they share enough skin, they can feel each other again.

(The other angles do not feel like they do.)

<//>

She gives them jobs, right after She creates time.

Something to pass it.

<//>

They cling close, spirits mixing and dipping into each other along the places where their skin touches.

<//>

“This nebula is truly one of our most beautiful projects to date… Did She give you the suggestion for the color?”

“No. It’s the color of Jehoel’s eyes.”

Gabriel blinks, stares at him too long.

“But since She made Jehoel, I suppose in the end, it actually was Her idea…”

The corporation that is Gabriel relaxes.

It is the first time that Raphael wonders.

(The questioning comes later.)

<//>

“I miss you when you’re off creating constellations… It’s...cold without you.”

“You know my hair isn’t actually made of fire, right? Isn’t that supposed to be your element anyway?” Raphael teases, pressing his forearms all along Jehoel’s back, crisscrossed in between his wings, holding him close.

(Curse these corporations that keep them apart.)

“I meant inside,” Jehoel admonishes, pressing his cheek more firmly against Raphael’s neck, baring his soul to him as best as he can.

“Shhh, I’m here now, angel,” Raphael squeezes him tight.

<//>

(Isn’t it blasphemy, for Her Grace to not be enough?)

<//>

"Do you think of me, while you're out building stars?"

A flutter of wings.

A whisper in the spaces between their atoms.

Red hair lit up like its own halo, like Raphael is twice as holy, twice as important as any other angel.

And he is...

He is.

"Every moment, angel."

<//>

“If the forms of our existence can change, cannot the names attached to them as well?” Jehoel asks.

Raphael blinks at him.

“Why do you call me ‘angel’?” Jehoel frames Raphael’s face with his hands.

Their legs are twined together, stomachs pressed close.

They only breathe to feel the rise and fall of each other’s chests.

“Because…”

(Because he’s not Jehoel. He’s not. We should be the same, but admitting it feels too much like a reprimand.)

“Because ‘Jehoel’ has never felt quite right, has it? Not to you, and not to me,” Jehoel admits, his eyes tracing the thoughtful curve of Raphael’s brow.

“What do you want to be called, then? What feels right?” Raphael asks, shifting to rub a thumb over the back of the hand cupping his face.

“In my spirit? ...I would be called Raphael,” Jehoel whispers.

“We can’t both be Raphael,” he reminds him, voice shaking as he yearns.

(Yearns for when the two of them were made of the same atoms, the same light.)

“Then I shall be Aziraphale, instead.”

Raphael’s soul sings as a joyful smile spreads over his face. He can feel the harmony it creates with Aziraphale’s, so close, right there under his skin. They both move to get as close as possible as quickly as they can, pressing against each other even more, willing the torrent of emotion to spill over into light, into the oneness that they lost.

In their haste, Aziraphale’s smile bumps against Raphael’s.

Oh.

Neither of them thought the parts they used to communicate could be used to communicate this.

“Aziraphale…”

Raphael presses their mouths together again.

The veil is lifted.

Aziraphale surges forward, in corporation and in spirit, filling Raphael with a hurricane of suppressed longing. He’s swept aside in the torrent of it, gone. He isn’t just himself anymore, they’re them.

(He yields instantly.)

(Willingly.)

It’s not the all consuming oneness of before, but it’s close. So close.

“Oh, my clever Aziraphale…”

“Stop talking, my dear.”

<//>

They don’t talk to each other for a long time after that. Three nebulae and a galaxy’s worth. They have better things to do with their mouths once obligations are done.

<//>

(They should have talked.)

(Maybe Raphael wouldn’t have questioned, if they had...)

(But maybe Aziraphale would have where he hadn’t before…)

<//>

When She creates the humans, everything changes.

Raphael can see why she adores them.

(But the other angels do not feel for humans like She does.)

<//>

It takes the humans a much shorter amount of time to realize the intimacy of mouths on mouths than it did Raphael and Aziraphale.

<//>

(Why?)

(Why not?)

(Why us?)

(Why them?)

<//>

Raphael is on shift during The Betrayal.

When Lucifer betrays Her, Gabriel bears witness against Raphael and his questions.

Light cannot escape the strength of his grief when Raphael realizes that questioning will be punished with losing everything.

(At the center of a black hole is love.)

<//>

Good and evil.

Light and dark.

Up and down.

You and me.

All Her creations are double edged swords.

(Be careful how much you want to know.)

<//>

It is supposed to be part of their punishment, that demons remember while angels do not.

For Crawly though, it is only mercy.

If his angel suffered without him as he did, well… Then he would have lost faith entirely, like the rest of his brethren.

(As it is, he's the one who’s lost both the most and the least.)

(He isn’t sure what Lucifer is on about, that prat never loved anyone but himself.)

<//>

The forces of Hell spend rather more than seven days trying to break in to the Garden.

In the end, it is Crawly and Crawly alone who can slither through.

(Go up and make some trouble.)

He can feel it as he burrows, feel it in his bones, that the only reason he can pass through the barrier is because Aziraphale is on the other side.

(But he keeps that to himself.)

<//>

When he stands in Aziraphale’s presence for the first time in an eon, he can tell his angel is...diminished…

(But still Aziraphale.)

(Always Aziraphale.)

<//>

“You gave it away?!?”

<//>

(He gave it away.)

<//>

Aziraphale may be a Principality now, and Crawly may be a demon, but there’s still a strange sort of leftover resonance in their souls, drawing them to each other, only feeling truly at ease in each other’s company.

<//>

“What? You can’t kill kids!”

Crawly can feel the vacillation in him, even if Aziraphale doesn’t say anything, and he clings to it.

(It feels like hope.)

<//>

“What was it that he said that got everyone so upset?”

“Be kind to each other.”

“Oh, yes, that’ll do it…”

(There are too many conflicting emotions in him to parse each one out.)

(So he just watches on in horror.)

<//>

Crowley gets called back down below, where all Hell has broken loose.

Because the keys have been taken.

Lucifer’s lost his greatest leverage in his self proclaimed war against Her, which was the human souls he’d been hoarding down there.

Everyone has to report back for some sort of giant strategy meeting.

(Which is ridiculous, because they’re all just doing as they’re told.)

It’s a pain and a mountain of paperwork and a swearing of allegiance to a new plan and all Crowley wants to do is run his fingers through hair like strands of starlight again.

(He remembers the stars.)

(He’d trade them all to feel the touch of Aziraphale’s skin again.)

<//>

Lucifer leans forward on his throne, head tilted just so, to make sure the light of the flames bounces properly off his cheekbones.

“Do you love him?”

Crowley doesn’t think of warm hands and warmer mouths.

“I remember him. I remember what loving him cost me.”

(He thinks of stars collapsing instead.)

By some miracle, Lucifer is placated. It might be for the very first time.

(What the devil is She playing at?)

<//>

Crowley isn’t sure which is the worse torment, being in Hell without Aziraphale, or walking the earth with him so close and yet so far.

<//>

(Is this part of your plan?)

<//>

He takes it back. Being friends by Arrangement is the worst chaos of a feeling ever.

(But it’s also the best.)

At least they can make up for all the talking they didn’t do before.

<//>

It takes everything in him not to grab Aziraphale by his frilled lapels and kiss him senseless in France. But he knows it wouldn’t go over well.

He has to keep telling himself that this isn’t his Aziraphale.

(But it is.)

(It is.)

He’d do anything just to be allowed to stay at his side.

<//>

“Anthony?”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I didn’t say that… I’ll get used to it. What does the ‘J’ stand for?”

“It’s, uh, just a ‘J’, really…”

(Lies told in a temple should burn more, shouldn't they?)

(It’s a ‘J’ to remind him that angels have free will too.)

Their hands brush as he hands over the rescued books, and there’s shock in it, shock at the tendril of love interwoven.

(It’s enough to sustain Crowley for another 6000 years, the whisper of love in Aziraphale’s touch.)

(He wishes he could craft another hundred nebulae the exact shade of Aziraphale’s eyes in that moment, but his angel isn’t the only one who’s been diminished.)

(Falling made them all less.)

<//>

“Anywhere you want, anywhere at all,” he offers.

But what he means is please, choose me.

<//>

And suddenly, he’s out of time.

The End is upon them, Hell is onto him, and Aziraphale doesn’t remember him.

“The forces of Hell have figured out that it was my fault. But! We could run away together! Alpha Centauri, lots of spare planets up there, no one would even notice us!”

(Choose me, his soul screams, just for once, choose me!)

“Crowley, you’re being ridiculous. Look, I’m quite sure if I can just, reach the right people, that I can get all this sorted out…”

“There aren’t any right people,” Crowley says, dumbfounded, getting right up in his face, “There’s just God, moving in 'mysterious ways’ and not talking to any of us!”

“Well, yes, and that is why I’m going to have a word with the Almighty, and then the Almighty will fix it.”

“That- won’t happen… You’re so clever, how can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?” Crowley asks, aghast.

“... I forgive you.”

(So that’s it, then.)

(After 6000 years, Crowley snaps.)

(What reason is there to keep holding on?)

(Maybe he’s been deluding himself this whole time….)

“I’m going home, angel. I’m getting my stuff and I’m leaving! And when I’m off in the stars, I won’t even think about you!”

<//>

(Well, he thought he’d snapped at the time.)

(When he really snaps is screaming at both Heaven and Hell on the floor of a burning bookshop.)

(He imagines this is what Falling felt like for the rest of them.)

<//>

"I lost my best friend…"

"I'm so sorry to hear it…"

(Something in Aziraphale shifts, to see that Crowley didn't leave without him after all, that Crowley stayed.)

<//>

After the failed End, things are almost too quiet in comparison.

Aziraphale wears his own face again.

Perhaps it’s for the best that he doesn’t remember, in this moment.

(Because the symbolism would break his heart.)

(God knows it would break Crowley's, if he allowed himself to think about it.)

They stay together, without going off anywhere, just living their lives, but together.

<//>

The first time Aziraphale leans toward Crowley with the intent to kiss, there is no other word to describe Crowley's posture but nervous.

"Is this alright?" Aziraphale whispers.

"It is. God, Aziraphale, it is. It's just, I'm not sure what will happen…" Crowley confesses.

Aziraphale smiles at him indulgently.

(Because he doesn't know.)

(Maybe Crowley should stop him…)

(But he doesn't have the heart to seriously consider it.)

(It feels like he's been waiting an eternity for Aziraphale to choose him.)

When Aziraphale presses his lips to Crowley’s, it’s soft, no surging or toppling him over onto his back like the first first time. Aziraphale kisses like he doesn’t know that souls are for pouring, but it’s more than Crowley ever expected to feel again.

“I… Crowley, have- … Have we done this before?” Aziraphale asks him, confusion writ hard upon his face, “I would remember if we had done this...but…”

“But not if She took it away…” Crowley whispers, his eyes still closed.

(Were they told not to speak of it, or was that just his own self preservation? It’s not like any angel would have ever believed a demon about it…)

(But now...)

(But now…)

“What do you mean She took it away?”

Crowley opens his eyes.

“I mean… In the beginning, there was us. Before.”

“Us?” Aziraphale asks, a slow terror dawning over his face, “Before what?”

“Before I questioned!” Crowley answers, his voice too loud compared to Aziraphale’s. “Before the Fall, before the humans, before time itself was set spinning, there was us.”

“Us,” Aziraphale echos, brushing his fingers over his own lips. “I… I think I believe you… But why-”

“Oh, come off it, angel,” Crowley practically jeers, his emotions spinning completely out of control.

(Healer, heal thyself.)

“It was part of our punishment, to remember. Think about it. You know all demons were angels before the Fall, but do you remember any of us? Do you remember me? I know you don’t,” Crowley spits out, so close to breaking that he risks complete and utter ruin if this goes badly.

Aziraphale looks terrified as Crowley is speaking, but instead of answering, he kisses him again.

And this time he pours his heart into it, no holding back.

It burns.

(But god, Crowley could die happily this way.)

“Is… Is it supposed to feel like this?” Aziraphale pulls back, tears in his eyes.

“You were the angel of fire, you’ve always burned a little…”

“Of fire?... No I wasn’t. I’ve always just been, me,” he frowns.

“No...you weren’t...” Crowley insists softly, “Well, you’ve always been you, but you used to be more, just like I did…”

Aziraphale shakes his head, like he can’t fathom the concept of everything he’s finding out, everything that’s been taken from them.

“Wait. The angel of fire’s name was Jehoel,” Aziraphale says hesitantly, like he isn’t sure if he wants Crowley to be lying to him after all or not.

“Yes. But you chose to be Aziraphale instead,” Crowley makes a helpless motion with one shoulder.

“I chose? I… I don’t remember...” Aziraphale adds, sounding frustrated.

“I know…”

“Crowley, what were you the angel of?” Aziraphale asks, as if he’s just now realizing how strange it is that he’s never asked before.

Then it’s Crowley’s turn to shake his head.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“Leave it, angel.”

“You can’t tell me things like this and then not answer my questions, Crowley,” Aziraphale chastises him, starting to look distraught.

Crowley gives him a horrified look, just now realizing what Aziraphale is dancing along the edge of, by questioning.

Aziraphale’s face softens, but he still looks hurt, confused. Not by Crowley, but by the situation. “Why would I be diminished? I didn’t fall… Did?... Did She change me? From Jehoel into-” Aziraphale pauses and motions at himself.

Crowley jumps into the pause and says, “No, angel. You chose to be Aziraphale, long before the Fall, ages beforehand. That wasn’t what diminished you, that was...that was something She did later...” Crowley trails off.

(He’s not going to say the words ineffable plan. Not here, not now.)

Aziraphale stills. It’s not the peaceful stillness that angels are supposed to be known for. It’s an angry, teetering stillness. One that when it tips over, promises violence.

“Crowley, what was your name, before you fell?”

(Damn his clever angel.)

Crowley hesitates, swallowing hard as his throat threatens to close up.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale repeats himself, insistent, “What was your name?”

With a trembling hand, Crowley reaches up and cups his angel’s cheek.

“It was Raphael.”

Aziraphale’s face looks like it’s about to shatter.

Crowley is ready to grab the pieces of him, if need be.

(Always Aziraphale.)

And then the anger comes flooding forward.

“How dare She.”

“Aziraphale…” Crowley whispers, not sure if he can or should or even really wants to calm him down...

“How dare She,” Aziraphale repeats, his anger far beyond righteous.

(Words like primal were invented for this.)

Before Crowley can say anything else in return, the two of them are suddenly bathed in a blue-white light from above. He freezes in terror, eyes going wider than they ever have before.

But Aziraphale, his clever, beautiful Aziraphale, looks up, and rages.

“Give it back.”

Crowley’s heart skips a beat.

“Aziraphale, you don’t know what-”

“Give it back!” Aziraphale cuts off the Almighty, “He may not have known the consequences, but I do. Give me back my memories,” he demands as angry tears start to pour down his face.

“Aziraphale…” Crowley says helplessly, his whole corporation starting to shake and tremble.

“You said we had a choice, but you took mine away from me,” Aziraphale admonishes God, “You had already taken my memory of him away when you told us of the Fall. That’s not a choice, that’s a lie.”

The sadness clinging to the air around them is so strong that Crowley feels like he’s choking on it.

When no response is forthcoming, Aziraphale turns his face down and away from the light of God.

Sparks and embers begin to swirl upward out of him, like a log disturbed on a campfire.

(This is what happens when you kick the angel of fire too many times, Crowley thinks a tad hysterically.)

Aziraphale falls to his knees, crying out in pain.

Crowley catches him, eases him down while they cling to each other tightly.

(God, it burns.)

(It was always going to.)

The sparks intensify, until Aziraphale is consumed, until they both are.

But Crowley doesn’t let go.

This is their choice.

An informed one this time.

(We should be the same.)

(The same light.)

(The same fire.)

(The other angles do not feel like they do.)

(He yields instantly.)

(Willingly.)

(He remembers the stars.)

(So that’s it, then.)

(At the center of a black hole is love.)

Falling made them all less, but somehow, it makes Aziraphale more. And Crowley is swept along with him, their fetters removed, shackles broken, fire and stars at their fingertips again, now that they’re on the same side.

(God, show me your Great Plan...)

After She leaves, it’s silent for a long time while they exist.

“Raphael?...”

“That’s not my name anymore, angel…”

A thoughtful hum.

“But I remain Aziraphale yet... I think, because I chose that, She cannot take it away from me...”

Crowley lifts his angel’s hand, presses a kiss onto the back of it. They’re still laying on the floor, all pretenses and trappings of humanity stripped away, burned away by the Almighty’s light.

“Do you want to call me ‘Raphael’ again?” he asks, quiet, accepting of any outcome.

“Aziraphale is my rebellion, but ‘Crowley’ is yours, my dear. I’m not going to be offended if you want to keep it. I’ve grown rather fond of it, actually.”

“Ok, angel. Ok,” Crowley finds himself smiling.

“You know, I’m not an angel anymore…” Aziraphale points out.

“That’s not what I mean by it,” Crowley assures him, still smiling.

Aziraphale smiles back.

“I know.”

When Aziraphale rolls them over, hovering over Crowley, the intent to kiss him for eternity written plainly on his face, it takes Crowley’s breath away to see his new form.

“Aziraphale,” he says, a benediction now, no longer a plea, “Your wings are red…”

A nod.

“Yes, I thought we’d go well together that way, without being too matchy-matchy.”

Crowley is laughing when Aziraphale finally leans down to kiss him, unable to resist tasting the joy on his lips for a moment longer.

Kissing on the floor of Crowley’s flat for a year and a day may seem excessive, but it’s not.

(It’s not.)

(It’s really not.)

They used to kiss for decades, they used to kiss for centuries when they could get away with it.

(Plus, in Heaven, there was nothing else all that interesting to do but steal each other’s atoms and tuck them up close inside their hearts.)

But Aziraphale pulls back after only a year, and Crowley whines in protest, following his lips upward.

“I’ve been thinking…”

“Well I haven’t, I’ve been kissing you,” Crowley complains ineffectually, already feeling the stretch of their souls separating and settling back into their own corporations like taffy pulled too far apart.

Aziraphale smiles indulgently at him.

“Some of us can do more than one thing at once, my dear.”

“Not all of us are Cherubim of unfathomable power, angel,” Crowley grumbles.

“Are you, overwhelmed?...” Aziraphale grins, leaning down close again.

“By you?” Crowley says, wrapping all his limbs around Aziraphale like a limpet, “Always.”

He tucks his face into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck and just, holds on tight.

“Oh darling… I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, these 6000 years,” Aziraphale cups the back of his head, sliding fingers up into his red locks.

(In his true form, Crowley’s hair was like a tumble of lava, like a curtain of a million red stars burning and twisting around each other at once.)

(Aziraphale could spend eternity running his fingers through it.)

“Don’t get all mushy on me now, angel,” Crowley says, his voice cracking.

“I make no promises...”

Crowley squeezes him extra tightly for a moment, before settling back against the floor again.

“What have you been thinking about?” Crowley asks, knowing they really aren’t going to be able to just kiss for the next century, as much as they both might want to.

“Us. And Heaven, and Hell,” Aziraphale tells him, growing pensive.

“We… Surely, we must have a little more time?” Crowley says.

“If we didn’t, would you have wanted to spend it any other way?” Aziraphale asks, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“...No,” Crowley admits, “Is this it, then? Can...can you feel them coming for us, somehow?”

“Not as of yet,” Aziraphale shakes his head, “But it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?”

“What are we going to do?”

“Well, the way I see it, we have two options. We could run, but, it couldn’t be to any place within Creation. She’d still be able to find us, no matter how distant the nebula…” Aziraphale tells him sadly.

“The only thing outside Creation is the Void, Aziraphale, we can’t go there. No one but God Herself has ever survived it. There’s no stars, no space there, just nothingness…”

“And yet, every constellation brought into existence overwrites it…” Aziraphale points out. “Also, it has come to my attention recently that omission is not the only lie being perpetuated upon us by the Almighty.”

“Even if we could survive it,” Crowley says, scrubbing a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Honestly? That kind of sounds like the easy way out now, running from our problems… And, there’s no books in the Void, no Bentley’s… What’s option two?”

“Well, in order to fix all this, truly fix it… I believe we will have to kill Lucifer.”

“...” Crowley blinks at him. “Angel, my darling, I think the Fall may have gone to your head a bit...” he suggests calmly, eyes worried.

“I don’t mean to rule Hell, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Aziraphale tuts, because it’s very obviously what Crowley is thinking. “What I mean is to end the War, but not by fighting it. I don’t think I need to explain to you the impossibility of getting Lucifer to call things off on his end. But if it wasn’t his call to make anymore…”

“Exactly how is that not ruling Hell, again?” Crowley asks.

“Because once Lucifer is gone, we will tear it down.”

Crowley surges forward, sits up so that he and Aziraphale are on a more even level.

“Aziraphale, you cannot set loose the hoards of Hell upon the earth. I didn’t think I needed to explain to you how completely awful I am at being a demon, I am, literally the worst demon in existence, going off evilness, you cannot base the rest of them on me. Granted, some of them are only half bad, but, there are some beings down there that would like nothing better than to reek havoc and terror on humanity for the rest of their days…”

“That is why they would not be let loose, they would be watched, retrained, so to speak, by me.”

Crowley doesn’t question his ability to do it.

As a one of the Cherubim, protecting the Garden, and by association the entire earth, had been Aziraphale’s job.

“That’s a...rather hands-on approach…” Crowley says, jaw hanging open.

“Well, someone needs to take one. Humans get a second chance, why shouldn’t demons? This is getting rather ridiculous, don’t you think?” Aziraphale counters. “Why do we have to serve Lucifer just because we refuse to serve Her?”

(How do you refuse to serve a plan you don’t understand?)

“Thinking you’re better than your superiors is a dangerous game to play, Aziraphale, he’s the Morning Star,” Crowley says, shaking his head.

Aziraphale reaches out and cups Crowley’s cheek, stroking a sword-callused thumb over it.

“How many suns have you created?”

Crowley’s eyes go wide.

“That’s different...”

“What are the odds,” Aziraphale says slowly, so that it has plenty of time to sink in, “That Lucifer is diminished as well?”

(Falling made them all less.)

“Ok... But. Even if we could kill him, that doesn’t guarantee that She’ll stand down, Aziraphale, She could still set Heaven upon us and try to wipe us all out.”

“She could… But worst case scenario? The absolute, most final, irreversible scenario? Is that She undoes us completely, erases us from existence. And my dear, I think, if She really meant for it to end like that? That She would have already done it. But She didn’t. She let me Fall instead…”

“Fuck... Are we really doing this?”

“If we want to stay together, here, on earth, I think we have to. Besides, even if we had another 6000 years of being ‘left alone’, it wouldn’t be enough. I demand eternity at your side,” Aziraphale declares to him passionately.

(And sometimes, that’s all there is to it.)

<//>

(In the Beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth.)

(And God looked upon Her creation, and saw that it was good.)

(Who judges, when God is created?)

(What good is just beginning over?)

<//>

Having watched Crowley go in through the front door so many times, Aziraphale certainly knows the way into Hell.

He does not saunter in.

He unfurls his wings, all four of them, blood red and shimmering, and calls up an armor he has not worn since before the invention of man.

The front doors explode inward under a single touch of his finger.

Demons scream and scurry away from his presence before even having a chance to see him.

“Lucifer!” Aziraphale calls out, making his intentions clear, “Where is he?”

He meets no resistance, absolutely none, until he gets to the little throne Beelzebub has set up outside the Dark Counsel’s chambers.

And even then, it’s hardly resistance.

“What’s going on here?” they bluff.

But Aziraphale can feel their fear.

(No other Cherubim has ever Fallen.)

(And the only Seraph who did, well…)

“You have taken him, and I intend to get him back,” Aziraphale seethes.

(He doesn’t need to elaborate, because now he knows that demons know.)

(Know what Crowley is to him.)

(Know what they were.)

(Know what was done to them.)

Beelzebub steps aside, even as they say, “He’s not here, we don’t have him…”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we.”

Aziraphale floats up the steps to the chamber’s doors, rolling his eyes internally at the ridiculous figures and symbols carved into it.

(They mean nothing to a being of his power.)

For these doors, he uses his whole palm. They dissolve with a boom under his power, leaving a gaping space that four of Aziraphale could walk though.

(He manages to fill it up though.)

The Lords of Hell turn from their various debaucheries and hiss at him, drawing their weapons, leaping toward him with murderous intent simply for daring to be an intruder.

Aziraphale raises both arms out in front of him and snaps his fingers, wiping all of them out of existence at once.

There’s a strangled sounding noise from behind him, probably Beelzebub.

(Good, let them bear witness to what’s about to happen here.)

Even the Dark Counsel's playthings are erased, leaving Lucifer and Aziraphale alone.

(Small mercies.)

Lucifer stands up from his throne.

He tilts his head, hands clasped behind his back like he’s unfamiliar with taking any pose but condescension.

“If this is supposed to be an...audition, you’ve got my attention-” Lucifer squints at him, tilts his head the other direction, “...Aziraphale.”

“Nothing of the sort,” Aziraphale says at the same moment that Crowley, in snake form, jumps quick as lightning from his hiding place under the throne.

He wraps himself around Lucifer’s hands and middle, like a living restraint, keeping his arms behind his back.

“How dare- You insolent piece of scum!” Lucifer rages. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I believe,” Aziraphale says as he summons his sword to him, his old sword, the broad one that takes two angelic hands to wield and could cut down a dozen foes at once, “The technical term is an execution.”

Lucifer laughs, incandescent rage still pouring off of him in waves.

“You think I need my hands to fight you? You think this very realm itself doesn’t obey my commands?” Lucifer sneers.

And then everything is on fire.

The very air itself is made of flame, and not just of regular hellfire either. This is The Fires of Hell, that which destroys even demons, that which torments the very souls of humans, long after their bodies are gone.

There are multiple screams from the doorway, where the gathering watchers have to suddenly reel backward for their lives.

Lucifer laughs maniacally for a long minute, which, that alone would make an observer question his sanity, forget everything else…

Eventually, he stops laughing though, and wills The Fires away.

“You know, you always were the brightest star,” Aziraphale says, causing Lucifer’s jaw to drop, “But not exactly the brightest pupil.”

“What!? How!?”

“I’m The Angel of Fire, idiot,” Aziraphale says primly, then takes the Morning Star’s head clean off with one swing.

(There are perks to being soul bound to the former Angel of Fire.)

(And Crowley likes this whole immunity to fire thing too.)

“Don’t forget hisss heart,” Crowley stays holding on tight, even through the pain of being in contact with Lucifer’s bare skin this whole time.

“Of course, dear,” Aziraphale says, stepping forward, “I’d not forget a thing like that. Are you out of the way?”

Lucifer’s corporation is still standing, still struggling, even as his head comes to rest a short ways away.

“Yesss, jussst do it!”

“You fools, we’re on the same side now!” the head screams at them, blood already matting his golden locks.

Aziraphale looks Lucifer directly in his decapitated eyes as he says, “We’re on our own side.”

Then he pierces the blade through the Morning Star’s chest.

What’s left of Lucifer falls to its knees.

“Leave the blade in, he’sss not dead yet!” Crowley warns, tightening even further against the thrashing.

“Oh? What was your first guess?” Aziraphale says, motioning to the head that’s begun screaming continually.

“Jussst end it already!” Crowley urges him.

“What else do you want me to do? I can’t take the sword out again!” Aziraphale says.

“I don’t know, angel, killing isssn’t my department,” Crowley hisses, “Jussst, do sssomething!”

Aziraphale looks between the severed head and Crowley, back and forth, until suddenly an idea flashes across his face.

(To err is to exist.)

(To be inspired is divine.)

He drops to his knees, placing his hands on Lucifer’s forehead, and calls up all the power he possesses within him.

(How many times did he see Crowley do this?)

(How hard can it be to do the reverse?)

(What’s the opposite of healing?)

Light bursts out of Aziraphale and Crowley both.

The face of the Morning Star crumbles.

The screaming stops.

His corporation is crushed within Crowley’s coils, leaving only ash behind to float on the super heated air.

It’s dead silent in the throne room of Hell.

Aziraphale grimaces as he wipes the ash off his hands.

Crowley slithers over to him, climbing right up him and draping himself around his angel’s shoulders.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Aziraphale asks, running soothing hands along Crowley’s scales.

“Yesss. It ssstingsss, but I’ll live.”

“Not that I don’t love having you all over me, dear, but perhaps it would help to transform back?” Aziraphale points out as he climbs the few stairs up to Hell’s throne.

“Perhapsss,” Crowley says, but makes no move to disentangle himself.

Aziraphale smiles to himself as he turns around and sits on the throne.

A mass of demons, lead by Beelzebub and Dagon, are all gathered at the doorway, watching in shock.

“Right,” Dagon seems to come to her senses first, before any of the others, “We’re under new management, then.”

And she takes a knee.

All of Hell is quick to follow.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Aziraphale says, his voice carrying to all of the corridors of Hell.

Before he can continue though, Crowley turns back into his human corporation, right there on his lap.

Aziraphale quickly steadies him, to keep him from falling to the ground.

“Really, Crowley?”

“What? You look just as powerful with me sprawled over your lap in this form,” he grins, flashing some fang.

“Lord have mercy…” Aziraphale sighs.

The demon hoard gasps.

“Listen, everyone,” Aziraphale says, getting back on track, “The War is off. There will be no more evil for evil’s sake, no more temptations, no more discord and discontent. Hell, is hereby closed.”

Before the shocked exclamations can even begin to rise from the crowd, a blue light envelopes them all.

Not the solitary spotlight of God’s attention, but a diffuse glow that builds and builds until it’s blinding, until there’s nothing left in all of existence but The Light.

(And God looked upon Her creation, and saw that it was good.)

Crowley and Aziraphale come back to consciousness clinging to each other tightly. They’re hovering in the clouds, with every angel and demon accounted for behind them. This is the Heaven Aziraphale remembers from before, just majestic clouds and light and gentle breezes, not the corporate police state the angels turned it into after being left to their own devices for too long…

“What’s happening?” Crowley whispers, looking around as everyone else looks back at them with the same confusion.

“Judgement,” Gabriel says, his face determined.

“Um, not quite.”

Every being looks upward at the source of the voice like they normally would. Aziraphale’s eyes go wide though, and he forcibly grabs Crowley’s head and turns it back down, covering him with one of his wings.

“It’s ok, Aziraphale, I’m going to tone it down for you guys.”

It’s not until God has fully descended and Her Majesty has been tucked away enough that She’s no longer glowing, that Aziraphale releases his protective stance over Crowley.

(Even as angels, very few types of them were made to withstand God’s presence.)

(Archangels were not one of them.)

“Let me just start by saying that I am, so, so glad that you stayed,” God smiles at them kindly, almost proudly.

Crowley leans over to Aziraphale and whispers, “Is it just me, or does she look exactly like that chick from Star Wars?”

“Star Wars? What are you- Crowley, focus,” Aziraphale hisses at him.

God folds her hands, as if in a mockery of waiting patiently.

“Oh, uh, were you talking to us?...” Crowley looks around and then winces, pretty much preparing to be smote right there.

“Were any of the rest of you thinking of running off to the Void?” She asks, giving them a wry smile.

There’s a murmur through the assembled masses behind them.

But no one speaks up.

(No one has a single, solitary clue as to what’s going on.)

“I wanted to thank you, too,” God says, “For taking care of Lucifer. I just couldn’t finish things up knowing he’d still be around to terrorize the humans afterward.”

“You’re welcome?” Aziraphale says, incredibly confused.

“Wait, so this is The End, then?” Crowley asks.

“For some of us,” She answers. “Look, I appreciate the sentiment of you taking care of ‘The Enemy’ for me, but, guys, come on. The opposite of Life, isn’t evil,” She tells them, “Lucifer may have been a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t my other half. He wasn’t the first one to screw up,” She assures them.

“I… I don’t understand…” Aziraphale says.

“Let’s just say, that when we went through our crucible, we were too afraid to stay… It, changed us, though… And we regretted it…” She sighs, her gaze going out past them, out into the distance.

Crowley turns around, some unknown danger pricking at his senses.

Behind them, moving slowly but steadily toward the crowd, is Death.

God lifts her arms, making a parting motion in front of her. The angels and demons are separated like the Red Sea, with Heaven and Hell mixed on both sides.

Aziraphale tugs on Crowley’s arm, pulling him with him out from in front of God.

“This is not our fight, my dear,” Aziraphale whispers to him.

Crowley steals a look at God’s face.

She doesn’t look determined or angry or even riled up. She looks sad.

“Are you sure this is going to be a fight?” Crowley asks him, asks Her, asks for anyone who’s listening.

“It's ok,” God assures them all, “I wasn’t sure if it would be this way or not, you know, with free will involved and all, but I’m glad it is. I’m glad we get a chance to fix our mistake. You all know enough now to hold on to your existences yourselves, without my help. My Son will shield the humans, but the rest of you are kind of going to be on your own,” She adds, like She really does regret that, but there’s nothing to be done for it.

As Death approaches, the group of angels and demons closes up behind him, silently and unanimously, as if by a higher power’s will.

“Oh my God, you’re just going to let him?...” Crowley blurts, cringing at how it comes out halfway through. He pushes on though. “If you’re just going to abandon us, then what was the point?”

God takes her gaze off the approaching finality and addresses Crowley with glowing, starlit eyes.

“The point was, to teach you that dichotomy is a trap. Don’t fall into it,” She says, turning to look back at Death, “Or you’ll end up just like us...”

Death stops in front of her, reaching out with his free hand that isn’t occupied with his scythe.

God reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I’m so tired,” She whispers, tears starting to fill Her eyes.

“I know,” Death whispers back.

And then he runs her through.

Thousands of angels and demons cry out in sadness, cry out in agony at the loss of Her Grace, all at once.

Death holds God as She dissolves into a million points of light in his arms.

(Who judges, when God is created?)

(Who judges, when God is killed?)

(Who is created, by good existing?)

(Why?)

After She is gone, Death drops his scythe.

He tips his face upward.

He dissolves into a million points of darkness.

And the Heavens shake.

“Uh, we need to get out of here,” Gabriel says, panicking.

“It’s too late for that,” Crowley overrides him, “Everyone! Form up!” he yells, waving his arms just a touch desperately.

“Yes, quickly now, stay together!” Aziraphale adds, shedding his human form as existence starts to tremble around them.

Everyone copies him, wings and eyes and claws and eyes everywhere as they huddle together, angels and demons, creations of God and abandoned of God, all together, all at once.

The Seraphim and Cherubim form a protective circle around the rest of them as the lesser start screaming, feeling their selves being eroded away. Those protecting turn up their power, as high as they can, willing with every miraculous allotment ever given them, for it to be ok.

Aziraphale’s fire-red wings are the only point of color on the outer circle of white.

Crowley slips inside his wings, the sacred ones used to cover himself, and he presses their lips together, one last time.

The Void beckons.

(At the center of a black hole is love.)

Nothingness begins to creep in between the angels’ wings.

(At the center of a black hole…)

Tears flow freely down Crowley’s face as he and Aziraphale kiss and kiss, their atoms sliding in between one another’s, the light of their souls the only thing they can see behind their eyelids.

(At the center…)

Something wild and desperate at the very core of Crowley clicks.

Wonders.

Questions.

“There’s another option,” he suddenly says, breaking away from Aziraphale’s mouth.

“What?”

Crowley looks around quickly, not leaving the safety of Aziraphale’s arms and wings.

“Gabriel!” he yells, catching his former co-worker’s attention from across the huddled masses, “The Pillars!”

The fear on Gabriel’s face flickers as it competes with dawning comprehension.

“Go!” Crowley waves at him, pointing to the other side of their angelic shield.

“Crowley, what are you doing?” Aziraphale asks as Crowley turns back to him, sticking his hands through the gap on either side of the Cherub’s shoulders and out into the Void.

“If this existence is going to insist on unraveling,” Crowley hisses, because fuck, that hurts, “Then we’ll just build a new one.”

And stars explode from his finger tips.

Crowley leans in and kisses his other half again, and a hundred blue nebulae the exact shade of Aziraphale’s eyes are born in succession.

(Suns burn.)

(Planets spin.)

(Galaxies twinkle in the sky.)

(The universe is a lot smaller afterward, but at the center of it all, is love.)

<//>

“What now?” the humans ask.

The Son of Man looks up at the night sky, filled to the brim with new constellations that have never been seen before, never even been dreamed of, and a knowing smile spreads over his face.

“Now we’re free.”

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziraphale/crowley #ineffable husbands #crowley-as-raphael #aziraphale-as-jehoel #playing fast and loose with angelic mythology here #i hope you all are up on your good omens meta #all you really NEED to know though is that Aziraphale basically means “Also-Raphael”#that’s like a major plot point #on a side note i just gained like 500 followers in less than a week?#you guys are crazy and i love you #here have some fic #i actually titled it this time #fair warning i made myself cry while writing this

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lovecinnatwist · 5 years ago

Note

Hi! Oh man i loved your abo!jaydick GCG dick cheating with jason. Would you do more? I’m dying to know what happened afterwards.

No problem Anon! I hope this fulfils your needs!

After Freedom PRT II - JayDick / KaraDick

Contains: Omegaverse, Cheating Dick, Angst and mating cycles/in heat

The affair doesn't stop there.

Dick is drawn to Jason like a moth to a flame. At night in Kara's arms, he finds himself longing for the other alpha. Kara's gentle fondness being scorched away by Jason's lawless lust. He knows that nothing will come of it. That each forbidden tryst brings them closer to the end. Still, Dick knows that he will go back for more. Wanton and passionate in the brief moments he can steal.

He hears Kal cry in the cradle, the baby decidedly ready for another feeding. Dick's chest is sore from Jason's mouth earlier. He doesn't let that stop him from getting up, however. Not performing his omega duties would make Kara suspicious. Something he can't afford. Not after imprinting on Kal and certainly not after giving so much to his new family.

His alpha doesn't stir. She sleeps silently but does sigh as his warmth leaves the bed. She's stunning. Always has been and always will be. He drinks in the sweet serenity on her face. The beauty he finds is unearthly. How did he ever think this woman- his alpha had been human?

How did he ever think something this beautiful could love him?

His feet carry him to Kal with familiar ease. The nursery only right across the hall from their room. The second Dick peers over the edge the baby's wails come to a stifle. His chubby fingers reach up with a desperation that makes Dick's heart glow.

At least he never had to wonder how Kal felt about him. This incredible, marvellous child is his in every meaning of the word. He coos down at his fussing baby and gets a puppy whimper in return.

" Shh, Mama's here. "

He picks up Kal with care. Despite how tender his chest is, milk still swells to the surface. It's instincts. The same ones that made him lactate the first time he held the pup. Privately he nuzzles down into silky soft hair. The action earns him a huff. Kal clearly too hungry to enjoy the affection.

" It's okay Kal, I'm going to feed you right now. "

He makes his way over to the large nursing chair in the corner. It's one of the most luxurious things they own. The cushions are plush and support his back, while the bottom rocks with just a little movement. He's spent so many hours here. Not only feeding Kal but also reading to him and playing games.

A dark voice reminds him that he could lose this. That if he gets caught with Jason, it will jeopardize his claim over his pup. That Kara can take him away and Dick will be out with no pack and no one.

He swallows down the guilt and fear like a shot of whisky.

Once both he and Kal are comfortable, he pulls up his shirt and tucks it around his neck. He looks down into beautiful blue eyes. The pup nuzzling against the bare skin with fervency. It takes very little to lead him to a nipple and get him to latch on.

The relief that goes through him when the pup finally does is soothing. Kal is a vigorous eater. His little mouth nurses milk so quickly that some spills. Dick coos, tenderly brushing away stray droplets. It's uncomfortable but doesn't hurt which he's grateful for. Like this, he can enjoy Kal's serene expression and the sweet smell of content pup.

It melts his heart a little more. For a brief instant, he allows himself to imagine a little girl with blonde hair. Maybe with his blue eyes and Kara's complexion. Kal would be a wonderful big brother he's sure and Kara- well she's already an incredible alpha. What would be one more pup to their family?

For a while content, suckling sound keeps him busy. His awareness entirely on the adorable baby in his arms. It doesn't take long to shift, however. Not with the way soft black, curls and wide blue eyes make him think of Jason.

He's sure this is what their pup would look like.

How many times has Jason whispered this fantasy in his ear? How long did it take for the idea to take root in his very core? Thinking of Kara and his child has always been a thing. Since Dick's taken on the omega role in the pack, it's always been a possibility.

When did he start thinking of Jason with that kind of possibility too?

A content whine draws him out of his daydream. Kal tilting to the side clearly done. Dick smiles and shifts the baby over his shoulder so he can burp him. It takes very little to get him to do so. A few light taps and Kal is comfortable and sleepy once again.

Dick never thought he could be a mother, let alone such a good one. He feels pride at the way he'd managed to give himself over to this role. Once Kal is fast asleep, Dick carefully takes him back to his crib. He stands over the cradle afterwards. Just staring at this beautiful, wonderful child that he's been given. He doesn't realize how long he's standing there until slivers of sunlight come through the curtains. He swallows the uncertainty that comes with it.

" You're up early. "

Kara's warm arms encircle him from behind. Pulling him into a steady embrace that makes him feel secure. He doesn't let his eyes leave Kal, but he does reach back to touch her. The alpha tangles their fingers before bringing them to her mouth to kiss.

" Kal was hungry. "

Is all he offers. Kara accepts it without question. She nuzzles into his neck and draws in deep breaths of his scent. It's intimate and tender. Typically Dick would preen under this attention. Now all he feels is guilt curling in his gut.

" You smell good. Your heat must be coming up. "

Dick licks his lips. It's rare for Kara to mention his heat. At least in this context. There's a dark murmur in her voice that sounds almost possessive. Like an alpha claim that he's never gotten before. A hopeful part of him swells.

" Yea- next week. Lois said she'd watch Kal for me. "

He swallows. Choosing his next words carefully.

" Do you want to spend it together?"

Turning up the omega charm, Dick looks down through his lashes. Pressing his curves against her in a way he hopes is suggestive. The action makes Kara step back. The loss of her heat lets him know the rejection is coming before she speaks.

We can't

" We can't. "

We aren't in a stable place.

" We aren't in a stable place. "

We need to focus on Kal.

" We need to focus on Kal-"

Dick stops her. They've had this conversation so many times. Why they can't cross the line. Why they can't take it any further. New Gotham needs Super Girl, she needs to stay focused. He's tired of the excuses. Tired of being pushed to the side.

" That's not enough to make a relationship work Kara."

The alpha tenses. The air around her visibly shifts the atmosphere. Her posture is defensive. The same way it always is when they talk about this.

" What's that supposed to mean? "

God, they were going to argue. What Dick wouldn't give to not fight about this for once.

" It means that I have needs too. That you have responsibilities to more than just new Gotham."

Kara's eyes flit away, unable to keep eye contact. He knows she loves being a hero. He's glad that she can make a difference and help people. Still, why is it every morning she leaves his mouth feels tastes bitter. It isn't enough anymore. She leaves him in charge of taking care of the house while she takes care of New Gotham but then who takes care of him?

" You don't- "

His voice cracks before he can continue. Emotion thick in his throat. He can't bring himself to say it. How can he be honest when what they have is already so delicate? He curls in on himself and takes a step back. Something about his demeanour cools Kara off. Her gaze softens.

" What, What don't I do Dickie? "

God, he just wants things between them to be good. Like a customary alpha and omega pair. Like a proper pack. The emotions bubble inside of him until their spilling out of his eyes. He can't bring himself to say the words. Can't bring himself to ask for what he needs.

All it takes is a soft hand taking his for him to break. For him to confess.

" You don't treat me like your omega..."

It feels too quiet to convey everything swirling around inside of him. The guilt, resentment and fear. Emotions that have been slowly poisoning him every day and making it harder and harder to be alive.

He feels oh so tired.

Understanding blooms in Kara's eyes for the first time since they've gotten together. She reaches out for him with warm hands that burn. Drawing him into an embrace that shatters his walls. Tears of defeat fall involuntarily.

" Oh, Dick. Oh, Dickie, I'm so sorry I've been a terrible alpha to you."

The sympathy of her tone makes him sob.

" I'm so sorry Dick you're right. I don't share your heats, I don't help you with Kal, I don't take care of you... "

She’s shorter than him so he has to duck into her. Hiding his wet face into her fragrant neck. She strokes his hair with care. Whispering apologies that make his heart full. Then murmuring promises he finds himself believing.

" I'll do better alright? How about I spend the 3rd day with you. I can't stay for the entire thing- but I'll at least be there for when it gets really bad. "

Dick's arms squeeze around her shoulders. He hesitantly smiles into her warmth. Enjoying the embrace and vibrations of her soft alpha rumble. His heats have always been dreadful. He wouldn't mind them having their first time then. During the height when he's most sensitive and desperate. The thought draws a wavering purr from his throat.

" Yea? you mean it?"

Kara hovers enough to brush their noses together. Her touch is soft and comforting. She holds his face in her hands. Soothing his broken heart with care.

" I mean it. "

He believes her without question, swallowing down his bitter confessions of betrayal on his tongue. How could he let Jason lead him away from this? Why did he doubt Kara would understand? Why didn't he just talk to her in the beginning?

They stay like that for a while. Gently holding each other until Kal stirs. When he does, It's the alpha who picks him up. Taking Dick by his hand and leading the omega to the kitchen.

They would be alright. Dick just needs to trust her.

After they make arrangements for his heat, Dick makes a vigorous effort to avoid Jason Todd. He goes to the market in New Gotham even though it's further. He doesn't go back to Big Al's and generally keeps away from where he can usually find the alpha.

After all, Kara has bought him a trunk full of nesting material for their first time. He, himself has gone to the doctor to get a birth control shot. Everything's right on schedule to happen. He doesn't want to mess this up. He doesn't need any unnecessary distractions.

" Wing! "

The voice is loud enough to carry over the park. Dick finds himself shifting his hold on Kal, his steps becoming long. He has no hope at outrunning the alpha, but he tries anyway. Jason cuts him off with physical effort. The man outright sprinting.

" Jason. "

He hopes it comes across as cold and indifferent. He clutches Kal to his bosom but has to loosen when the pup whines. His heart is pounding in his chest. Memories flood to the surface and drown his lungs. His pup, as if picking up his distress, starts to whine.

" You shouldn't be here. "

Jason ignores it. Dick hates how relieved the alpha looks. He can tell from the open body language that a heavy, weight is taken off of him. He doesn't want to think about what that means. Looking too deeply into Jason's affection means losing the nerve to chose his family.

To his credit, the man does keep his distance. Blue-Green eyes look at Dick to the baby, then back at him. It makes him feel uncomfortable. It's almost as if he's exposing his pup to his infidelity. To his disloyalty.

" I know, I'm sorry you just disappeared. I didn't know if you were alright. "

Dick closes in on himself. It's this that drew him into the alpha. The concern, the caring, the attention. Of course, it had been too easy to fall for him. He had been broken before, desperate and wanting. Not now though, now he can still feel the burning weight of Kara's words. They ground him and stop him from leaning into temptation.

" I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me anymore. "

The words are thick in his mouth. His tongue feels heavy. It's nothing he can't handle. Not when he and Kara are finally going to fix things.

" I-I'm spoken for. "

Alpha possession flashes in Jason's eyes but quickly retreats. Dick doesn't look into it. He doesn't want to acknowledge the sorrow, the heartbreak. The man gives him a teasing smile. Here, in the light of day and away from the bar, he can see it for what it is, self-conscious.

A facade.

" She can't give you what I can. "

Dick doesn't waver.

" You're right, she'll give me more. "

Jason tenses, his back straight and eyes searching. Dick can see the disappointment in the clench of his jaw and the tightness of his fist. Still, he stands across from him. Trying not to let the sudden burst of emotion make him hesitate.

" Yea? Well, whenever this phase of hers fizzles out. Whenever your little pack falls apart again. Don't think you can come back to me. Don't think I'll take you back. "

The words hurt more than Dick wants to admit. Though he knows that this has gone on way longer than it ever should have. Jason had been a fantasy, an idea that made him feel better about himself. This had all be a mistake.

" I was never yours, to begin with. "

Jason's jerks, recoiling from the words like a physical blow. The barely concealed pain there is hard to stomach.

There are people all around them in the park. Thankfully, no one he knows. The display earns them a few brief glances. Nothing to be worried about. The audience seems to make Jason restless. The alpha struggles, the attention clearly making him uncomfortable.

" You'll eat those words, and it won't be me who feeds them to you. "

Dick rolls his shoulders back. " I won't."

The only other time he's seen Jason quite this red is in the bedroom. Embarrassment and shame roll off of him. Nearly masking the subtle scent of pain and anguish. It makes Dick feel at least a little guilty. He should have never led the alpha on.

Somewhere deep inside he had known it wasn't just sex. The promises and touches that offered more had been genuine. Just as real as Jason's constant offers to run away with him.

The alpha leaves just as quickly as he came. Stocking off to his bike, and getting on with a rough heavy-handedness he's never seen. The machine roars to life and Jason tears off loud enough to draw the attention of everyone nearby. The noise is deafening. Ripping a cry from the small pup in his arms.

Dick soothes Kal. Rocking him while pressing soft kisses to his scalp. Long after Jason is out of sight, he keeps crying.

At least the worst part was over with, maybe now they both could move on.

The journey back home is exhausting. Dick finds himself falling apart before he even gets through the door. He pushes on to get Kal ready for his nap. The baby needs it, maybe he does too.

He bathes, changes and feeds Kal on autopilot. He needs time to emotionally decompress, a break. The second his pup settles down in the cradle he gets it.

Jason's words replay in his mind on a loop. His face is vivid in Dick's memory. The guilt rises in his throat like bile. Making him feel dirty and beaten. He's wrong. Kara loves him, she wants him. Jason just wants to mess things up, to make Dick doubt so they can go back to their previous arrangement.

" Don't come back to me. "

Dick strips out of his clothing. The sudden need for a shower making his skin crawl. He reminds himself that he's done a good thing today. That working on things with his pack alpha is way more important than a rouge alpha. His family needs his mind and heart here.

Once he gets under the hot spray, tension starts to bleed from his body. It's a small comfort, one that he isn't afraid to bask in for a moment. He needs to focus on the positives. Like his upcoming heat in two days.

He could process all of this after. When he's feeling a little more stable in his and Kara's relationship. A small smile comes to his lips at the thought. They were fixing things.

Dick manages to throw himself into his chores to keep himself busy from any thoughts of Jason Todd. The closer he gets to his heat, the more excitement bubbles in his chest. He's adjusted all the furniture in the master bedroom three times now. He wants everything to be perfect for his and Kara's first time.

He's never been one for nest building, but he tries his hands at it anyway. It's a little messy and full of colours that clash, but he loves it. It smells like them and their home. It's warm and safe. Moreover lying in it makes Dick's blood hum. He feels blessed.

The moment the well-known itch of heat starts to break out on his skin he's ready. He spends the first two days satisfying and touching himself to ideas of Kara. Of her firm hands and sunshine scent. His thighs tremble with the knowledge the soon she'll be inside him. A more optimistic part of him yearns for her bite.

He tries not to get too caught up, but he does allow himself a few smaller fantasies. One's that leave him panting in the middle of the pretty nest of fabric. By the time the third day comes his skin is nearly searing. He's so worked up with keen excitement that he finds himself throbbing for it.

It takes a lot of discipline not to touch further, to deny himself in anticipation for Kara. For her touch, for her hands and for her knot. He whines into one of her jackets. Drawing in her scent by the lungfuls. He can't believe he's so close to getting everything he wants.

Dick doesn't realize she's hasn’t come until the last day. His body trembling against sweat and tear, soaked fabric. His first moment of clarity is terrifying.

Jason was right.

#JayDick #KaraDick #gotham city garage #Cheating Fic #The Cost of Freedom #Sorry Anon this probably isn't what you wanted #Hopefully someone likes it though #ficlets

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isafalco · 4 years ago

Text

Getting Back Into Nico’s Good Graces

Featuring: @silasbriar, @thomaswieland, @presleystone, @isafalco

Location: The Barn

Summary: Silas convinces Thomas to force Blair to torture Isa and Presley to test his and her loyalty and possibly impress Nico with some sadistic tendencies.

Warnings: Gratuitous violence, torture.

Silas:

It takes a little artistry to get it all set up, but nothing even remotely outside of his abilities. The chains in the barn are prepped and there are two vials of wolfsbane in Silas’ pocket as he stalks his first target. The manor is abuzz with one panic or another, a wolf recovering from her near-death encounter, or a human seriously injured for reasons unbeknownst to him. They’re distracted, and not looking to the shadows where Silas lurks.

He spots the first one, the former Beta (the bonded one) and is grappling her from behind before she could make a sound. He plunges a syringe full of wolfsbane into her neck until he can feel her struggle losing its strength, then has them both out of the back door and into the barn in seconds.

The second wolf he’s less graceful with. Isa gets a hand over her mouth, seemingly from nowhere, dragged backwards out of the manor, then tossed halfway across the lawn in a display of strength to set the tone of helplessness for the rest of her unfortunate evening. He’s at her side again before she can recover, and throws her, again and again, until she’s inside of the barn being chained up against the wall, directly opposite from where Presley droops in her own mess of chains– wrists and feet– and feeling the effects of the poison.

Silas rubs his hands together and sighs while he admires his work. “Thank you for joining us this evening. And now we wait for our guest of honor.”

Thomas:

Thomas does no explaining, already testing the limits of how obedient Blair plans to be tonight during their little show. The scene is already set by the time they enter, the two wolves chained and the smell of wolfsbane sharp and cloying. Blair must be able to smell it too. The role of tormentor is all too easy to fall into, and he finally turns to the wolf by his side.

“Earn your place. These wolves practically attacked my dear brother and they need punishing. If you’re truly on our team, then there’s no going back to this wretched little pack anyway. Time to strike a match and burn the pieces of your old family to ash.”

Thomas rummages around in his pocket, transferring a few items in slow movements into Blair’s hands. A dagger. A lighter. And another syringe of wolfsbane for good measure, destined for the wolf of her choice. “Restore the family name, pet. Get as creative as you’d like. I’ll stop you when I’m satisfied.”

Blair:

Blair doesn't know why exactly Thomas called her, though she has been enjoying the brief respite after her encounter with Nico. Not that it seemed to help, considering Riley almost got murdered because the head vampire wanted to throw a tantrum, but that is a problem for someone else that wasn't her. Thomas seems uncharacteristically silent as he leads her to the barn, and her steps falter briefly as the acrid bitterness of wolfsbane reaches her nose. She's had enough of the scent for the rest of her life.

But none of that compares when she sees who is waiting for her. Silas, and Isa and Presley. She doesn't know what they did to anger Silas, whether they did anything at all. The lighter and dagger are pressed into her hands but Blair simply stares at the two wolves in front of her, a blank expression on her face.

Internally, she is scrambling. She has known this moment would come and yet she still feels entirely blindsided. Finally, she turns back to Thomas and Silas, hoping that her internal conflict is not written all over her face.

"How is me torturing anyone fun for you? Okay, I get it, this is a loyalty test. So let me fight one of them. We've got dead leg Barbie over here and the dead Alpha's runaway sister, so it's hardly a fair fight to begin with, but at least it doesn't feel like kicking a puppy."

She keeps her eyes trained on the vampires, back ramrod straight, knowing that if she turns around, she may lose her nerve. "If I win, then pretty sure that bridge gets burned anyways. If I lose, well then, better you know sooner rather than later."

Silas:

Silas rolls his eyes and with heavy, impatient steps in Blair’s direction, he gets a hand around the back of her neck and forcibly walks her towards Isa. “You were given an order, pet, and a purpose. We’re not interested in standing here and watching you negotiate your way around this like someone who may be a tad bit still on the fence about where her loyalties lie. Which brings us right back to–” He pushes, hard, when they reach the chained wolf, then takes a few steps backwards with his palms toward the ceiling like a showman. “–Get creative! Cut your old, beloved Alpha’s memory from your life and you’ll have won the beginnings of an official welcome to the family. This isn't fun, love, it's principal. It's symbolic. It's loyalty, earned." When he finds his way back to Thomas' side, he places a hand on his shoulder and flashes a toothy grin. "The fun is just a bonus."

Isa:

She's never felt so helpless in battle before. A trained assassin who traded her life of camaraderie and family for something she probably will never come back from, and she had never been bested like this. Her body flies across the lawn like she's nothing but a rock skidding across the surface of a still body of water; Isa rolls, and then she's tossed again, and again, until she's inside the barn and chained against the wall with the same ones they use for the full moon. To her left, there's Presley, and the rotten smell of Wolfsbane that has her struggling against the chains like a wolf possessed, a growl sitting in her throat furiously.

There's a second, when Blair appears before her and she's given a dagger, that she pulls on her chains so hard the wood cracks under the pressure, but they're enchanted, and keeping Isa so tightly in place she knows she won't get out of them. But anger boils in her chest, and when she finally settles against the chains, she blows her hair out of her face, looking at Blair through her eyelashes. She knows what's coming; Isa grips the chains harder, grips her teeth. Its not the first time she's been doused in wolfsbane, it probably won't be the last.

"Do your worst, bitch". She spouts, laughing under her breath. "Loyalty means nothing to you anyway".

Blair:

Of course Silas is the one to respond, his inability to stay out of anything probably causing a good chunk of this. She doesn't bother masking the annoyance or the trepidation that she felt. Hiding would only make it seem like she has something worth investigating, and that would be worse. So if he gets an extra wave of disgust, that is all sincere on her end too. Her jaw twitches slightly, wanting to point out that she could "get creative" by doing exactly what she had asked, but she doesn't know what else these two have planned. If this is only the first part, she couldn't pull out her ace at the start of the game. Isa and Presley would be fine. They are both soldiers, and beyond that, both are survivors. Even after telling herself that, Blair doesn't feel any better.

A cold expression sweeps across her face as she turns toward Isa. Presley is still in and out of it seemingly, with wolfsbane already running through her so Blair turns her focus back on the brunette. She steps into Isa's space, face to hers, and holds out the syringe to her. "All right hero, since you want to talk a tough game, I'll make you a deal. Either, you put this entire syringe of wolfsbane in yourself or I'll put it in Presley and we can see what her pain tolerance really is."(edited)

Isa:

Up close and even through the syringe, the wolfsbane reeks, and it makes Isa's nose flare. She bares her teeth, hands tightening around her chains and sweat running down her forehead. Of course she would take the wolfsbane, better her than Presley. The decision is easy, as her eyes flicker to her unconscious beside her. But its not just about Presley, or her, or this -- its about betrayal, and thinking about Blair making a mockery of her brother's legacy and Victoria's pack like this.

They're too close, too close and personal and Isa's pissed. So pissed that all she does is tighten her jaw, draw her head back, and head-butt Blair on the nose as hard she possibly could while dangling from those chains. It makes her forehead throb, bruise, but it leaves her with a sadistic sense of satisfaction. Like killing hunters again... "I already said do your worst. What are you waiting for? Instructions?"

Presley:

It happens fast. Presley hears footsteps, goes to turn and before she can clue in to the smell of wolfsbane, she feels it. It's a low dose but mixed the right way, like a sedative. She fights for only a second before it passes and when she finds realy consciousness again, she's in the bar, chains holding her arms and legs, her head hung. The sound of something like a scuffle besides her clues her in just as Blair knocks backward. She sees who did it, eyes suddenly wide and on high alert as she pulls against the chains holding her back. "Isa? What's --" There are two vampires in front of them, and Presley knows the feeling of the weakness in her bones all too well. The very thought of that, and Isa beside her makes her heart race. She looks from Blair, to the vampires, the woman chained beside her. "Let her go. Let us both go. Blair you don't have to do this."

Thomas:

An involuntary snarl leaves his lips as he watches Isa wind up and headbutt Blair with jarring force, some misplaced protective instinct for this wolf he was supposed to be protecting surfacing. He finds a place for his fury to go. Presley stirs, pipes up, and he draws more attention to it, forcing Blair to acknowledge it. If he wants to earn Nico’s forgiveness, it needs to be a good show. Both wolves will have to come back bruised and shaken. Drifting close behind Blair, he runs fingertips lightly over the curve of her shoulder, full of taunting advice. “No pressure, pet. But I’m bored already. Nice half-hearted attempt. Choices are always a good start, it’s a real lose-lose situation. But you know from experience wolves are suffering, simpering, stoic little martyrs. She’ll always choose to hurt herself first. These two are lovers. The pain isn’t in hurting them both. It’s in them having to watch the other get hurt. Why do you think they’re face to face?”

He raises his voice to address the two wolves. “This is Blair’s little show, and she can steer the ship, but one note from me. Lock eyes for that romantic ambience, you two. If either of you choose to look away from your beloved, to look down from the pain on her face, to shut your eyes for a momentary respite….I break one of your girlfriend’s fingers. I guess that gives you ten chances to look away.”

Blair:

The burst of pain that explodes behind nose makes her eyes water, and she can immediately taste the blood from where her teeth split her lip. The growl she lets out in response isn't forced, and she bares bloody teeth at Isa before her eyes snap towards Presley who is now awake, with her idiotically earnest eyes. She is barely able to meet her gaze for a second before Thomas commands attention once more, his hands ghosting along her skin. For a split second, she has the urge to shove the dagger into his throat, but she stamps that down.

Blair knows that having two wolves out of commission, especially having these specific two wolves out of commission is dangerous to the pack. She has to make a decision, and it would be far easier to throw a punch at Isa than at Presley, not because the blonde was weak, but because knowing that the other wolf would spend the entire time trying to make everyone other than herself feel better.

"If I'm supposed to be the creative one, you both are trying to take a whole lot of artistic license. And you suck at emotional torture. Sure, you can send them back all bruised and bloody, but they puff out their chests and tell each other how proud they are of each other for making it through. It doesn't last past tonight. Send one back pristine while the other ends up in a full-body cast? That's where you make the guilt roll in. Also, Presley's bonded. If you want to piss off Miss Aemilia, again I might add, go right ahead, but that probably would be the opposite of making your daddy happy. So I'll do whatever sick torture porn fantasy you have with Isa, make Presley watch, because that's going to hurt her way more than any bad leg ever would. Then when all this is over, she can torture herself for being perfectly unharmed while her girlfriend is nursing some broken ribs. Everyone happy with that?"

Isa:

In the most twisted of ways, Blair is right. This is a sure way to make them suffer. Making the other watch while one remains unharmed, but its relieving, all in the same, because she'll be the target of Blair's torture and Presley will come out unscathed. Its not the first time she's been tortured, something tells her it won't be the last. Whatever pain Blair puts her through she knows she'll be able to handle, regardless of how beaten, and bruised, and out of commission it will put her.

She tilts her chin up, looks at Presley apologetically -- she doesn't know why, this isn't her fault, but she has the vague reminder that Presley had watched someone she loved be tortured before, in a way that was eerily similar to this one. Isa inhales sharply, lets the air fill her lungs like she's preparing herself for the inevitable. "What are you waiting for? You're wasting my time. If you're going to torture me get on with it. I'm bored".

Presley:

It takes only a second or her to get her bearings, to take in the situation, hear Thomas's voice again and understand fully what's going on. presley's heart hammers, her blood runs with wolfsbane -- no doubt so does Isa's now too. And as they continue, as she hears Blair's spiel and fights the hold on her chains, she's reminded of this moment -- of staring back into the eyes of someone that matters and not being able to do anything. Her stomach flips, the air leaves her lungs. And in that moment, exactly, it all makes sense. She and Blair had discussed Eden, discussed the torture Presley had faced while her girlfriend watched. Switching the target -- it's protective. It has to be. Which means that somewhere, somewhere in Blair there's a shred of who she really is underneath it. "Blair --" Presley tugs at the chains but her eyes stay on Isa, not at all willing to break the vampire's rules. "Blair you don't have to do this. We're a pack. We're your pack. I know you feel scared, and alone, and you don't want to lose things again but none of us -- we can help you. I'll do it with you. You don't have to hurt her, you don't have to prove anything to anyone."

Blair:

Blair is glad that for the twisted instruction that makes Isa and Presley look at each other instead of at her. Hearing them is hard enough, but to face either of their accusatory stares would make this near impossible. And Presley... listening to her plead with Blair is both exactly what she wants and the opposite of that. Hearing those worlds helps, knowing that maybe people haven't entirely given up on her yet, but at the same time, she needs everyone to give up on her for this plan to work.

"Give it up, Superstar. We're not a pack. Even your girlfriend over there will tell you that. We're not going to kumbaya this away with your trusty guitar, so as Isa requested, let's get on with it."

She tosses the dagger on the ground, not caring to give herself yet another edge during this farce of a test. If they won't let Isa out to create a fair fight, then she could do at least this much. Without warning, her fist strikes out and catches Isa on the bridge of her nose, and Blair takes advantage of the surprise to stab the syringe of wolfsbane into her neck. She steps away briefly as the poison works its way through Isa's body, and Blair takes a moment to steady herself. There is no more need to gloat or talk, just a singleminded focus on getting through this intact. And with that, she wastes no time on raining blows down on Isa.September 7, 2020

Isa:

It comes fast and it comes hard, a right hook to the nose that immediately makes her bleed, blood rushing down her mouth. She doesn't wince, she only takes it, but she knows its broken and she'll have to set it back in place by the time this was all over. But what comes next is even more painful: wolfsbane. She's always described the feeling as being shot up with embers, the type that sizzle and make her entire body burn like she's been set on fire. What comes out of her mouth is a whimper, like a dog defeated; her muscles go weak and she looses her grip on the chains keeping her steady until she can't hold her neck up any longer, and she falls limp against her chains.

She's been beat up before, multiple times, with and without wolfsbane, but with the wolfsbane coursing through her veins, she can't tense her muscles to make the blows hurt less. There's blood on her neck from her cracked nose and bruises surely forming under her shirt, Blair's punches making her rock against the chains like a punching bag, all the while keeping her half open eyes on Presley as she watches Blair beat the crap out of her.

Isa coughs, with a second to breathe, and spits blood on the floor that she wishes she could wipe with the back of her hand. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but air gets caught in her throat at the pain on her sides. All she can do is grit her bloody teeth together again.

Blair:

She channels all of her rage and hurt into her attack on Isa. Blair tries to forget the way she can feel bones cracking under her knuckles, hoping that maybe some of those crunches are her own hands giving way. A small price to pay in exchange for this. She doesn't bother to check whether they're still looking at each other and she figures that one of the vampires will have something to say if they don't.

By the time she pauses, there is a thick scent of blood filling the barn, almost enough to mask the wolfsbane. Blair blinks, staring at a very battered and bruised wolf, and she almost loses her nerve in that moment. Loyalty means nothing to you anyway. Isa's words bounce and rattle around in her head, along with Presley's pleas for her to do the right thing. It's too much and enough is enough. Maybe if she can end this now, she would have enough time to pass a message to Ellery before even more damage was caused.

She steps away from Isa and turns to look at Presley for a long moment, wondering if the wolf finally hates her now as she should. Then she glances at Silas and Thomas, a disinterested expression flitting across her face. "Okay, so we good here? Let them limp back, I'm sure the wolves will cry about it some more, and you get to have all the angry threats you can twist into something else that's fucked. Did I pass? Again?"

Presley:

She wants to look at Blair, wants to look her in the eyes and see what's there, figure out what's causing all of this. Because Presley can't fathom that it's betrayal. It doesn't make sense, as Blair calls Aemilia Miss Aemilia, and forgoes the tools for her fists. She can't fathom that the same Blair who sympathized with her brother and their pack and everything they'd gone through would turn and betray them all -- betray Derrick -- now. I must be something else. She repeats the broken sound of Blair's words when they fought in her head, and knows if nothing else, that there's a person under all of this pain that wants something. Like Elias, like Ronan, like the people who they'd all met who had done awful things for reasons people couldn't understand -- but reasons all the same.

But her focus on what Blair might need goes out the door fast when she starts wailing on Isa anyway. At first, Presley flinches, a few times, jaw steeled as much as she can against the wolfsbane in her own system. BUt as she continues, panic hits. "Blair, stop!" She finally blurts out, abrupt and pained and pushing past all her better judgement about giving them the satisfaction they want. There are tears in her eyes she'd barely felt, and her head feels foggy with memories and her rapidly beating heart. Her voice cracks when the beating stops and she tries to use it again but she doesn't look away from Isa's bloodied face. Not once. "Please stop...."

Thomas:

The dagger hits the ground and Thomas sighs, a quiet sound. Fists and fighting don’t seem out of the usual for the wolves, just more of the same pain, but the wolfsbane will bring a sharper, less familiar edge to it all. The barn smells of iron and the cracking of bones bounce back from the barn walls, and he by the time Blair stops it looks like the chains are the only thing keeping Isa’s slender body from crumpling the the ground. His eyes stray to Presley, treated to the novel sight of the stoic wolf streaked with tears and panicked. He doesn’t answer Blair's question. Silas is the supposedly affronted party and the one who wanted to watch the wolves bleed, the one who didn’t trust Blair, the one who might whisper to Nico that Thomas was still worth trusting.

“Up to my elder, pet. I always respect the hierarchy.”

Supernaturally fast, he flits to pick up the dropped and forgotten dagger and is back in front of Blair in an instant, dragging the blade across his palm. If she’s so determined to leave Presley unmarred physically, he refuses to let her escape the same fate. No, he wants the scrapes across her knuckles to disappear and the fragile bones of them to mend. Let the other wolves picture darker weapons than her fists when they looked at her torn apart packmate. He presses the bleeding gash to cover her mouth, blocking Blair’s air until she’s forced to swallow. It’s the first time he’s forced her to do anything, a conscious choice since she first told him she didn’t have a choice in her original bond. Turning to exit the barn, he squeezes Silas’ shoulder on the way past but doesn’t make eye contact, giving him little chance to stop him from leaving. He doesn’t believe his brother will bicker about family drama in front of the wolves, not when it would sour the mood of the performance.

Isa:

She's barely holding herself together, once Blair stops railing on her with her fists, but barely makes a sound. Something akin to a shaky breath leaves her lips, and she doesn't know if what falls down her cheekbones is sweat, blood, or tears. Her wrists are limp against the chains as her head lulls forward, unable to hold herself upright for much longer; she thinks she sees Thomas heal Blair, but its a blur, even Presley looks foggy through her eyes.

Its hard not to focus on her pain, but its everywhere, on her chest, on her ribs, on her abdomen. In a fair fight she might have the upper hand, but with the wolfsbane weakening her body its so incapacitating she can barely move, and when she finally decides to speak up, her words tremble, her lips shake, they come through a bloodied mouth and a hoarse voice. "When... all of this is over..." She spats and even though her eyes are on Presley, the threat is for Blair, and only Blair. "... I'm going... to slit your throat... and I'm going... to enjoy it. Remember that... Falcos... Keep their word".

Silas:

Silas lingers with his lips pursed. He’s not completely satisfied, what with all of the excessive talking and negotiating, the dropping the knife and the lighter when they were the sole, implied parameters, the lack of the creativity he had expected… but then again, these are wolves, and he’s not completely disappointed either. Isa is in rough shape, and the threat to Blair is the cherry on the cake. It takes a second of mulling over his level of satisfaction before he turns sharply on his heels and begins to follow Thomas. "Come, pet," he commands over his shoulder with a sharp whistle like one might call a dog. "Leave them."

Blair:

She doesn't know what she was expecting, but the bitter taste of blood explodes on her tongue as Thomas shoves his bleeding hand against her lips. There is a slight albeit futile struggle, and there is a stark look of shocked betrayal on her face before she forces it away. She supposes this is a small price to pay for defying their demands, but as he walks away from her, she can feel the split skin on her knuckles beginning to knit back together. The ache remains, but as though this had happened days ago, not minutes.

Isa's threat, as labored as her words are, hits home and Blair turns, caught between Silas and Thomas' retreating backs, and Presley and Isa still hanging by their chains. She wants to ask how long they'll be locked up, but she knows she's not supposed to. She's not supposed to care about them. But she also can't say nothing. So she walks back over to Isa, uncaring about the bloody mess that is spattered around her. She tilts her head up, gently but with purpose, and she blocks her view of Presley so that the wolf has to focus on her.

"If you manage to get the jump on me, I'll let you do it." She forces a levity into her words, but she means them nonetheless. Not that either of them would understand. She doesn't bother to look at Presley as she turns and follows the vampires.

Blair needs to find Ellery.

#c: presley #c: silas #c: thomas #c: blair

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bgn846 · 4 years ago

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Worthy Epilogue (Chapter 13) FFXV A/B/O Promnis

<Previous Chapter 12

Ignis hugged Prompto close as they stretched out on the couch. The omega was nearly asleep and mumbled softly at the attention. Six months had passed since they’d moved in together, and Ignis never tired of cuddling with the blond.

Granted, this situation was slightly unique in that Prompto wasn’t awake and chattering on about his day. He’d been busy all week helping Luna plan a wedding. The two omegas had taken on the task of coordinating Ardyn and Soliamare’s nuptials.

Prompto had gone from avoiding people to having meetings with florists and caterers. Luna usually handled most of the talking, but Ignis had observed Prompto on several occasions attempting to add his opinion. The omega was coming out of his shell, and it was a joy to witness.

However, it appeared the stress of the situation had finally caught up to Prompto. Of course, it wasn’t shocking that he’d run out of energy. Planning a party on that scale was a daunting task. Running his fingers through Prompto’s fluffy blond hair elicited another contented hum from the omega. Ignis was taking advantage of the rare opportunity to watch his mate rest.

They normally went to bed around the same time. Prompto had adopted Ignis’ schedule within the first week of cohabitation, so he didn’t often get to see the omega dead to the world. Ignis leaned down to tenderly kiss the blond’s head, who sighed contentedly. So much had happened after Noct’s twentieth birthday. Sometimes he would wake up afraid that all of it had been a dream.

Thankfully, it wasn’t.

He’d found his mate, and they were having fun experiencing life together. They’d even rescued a cat from a local shelter to keep them company in their shared apartment. Prompto fit into Ignis’ life like a missing puzzle piece. Aside from a few disagreements over who slept on what side of the bed, things went smoothly.

Suddenly wondering how Noct handled that same issue, Ignis laughed at the image it provided. He made a mental note to ask Gladio later. His friend enjoyed cuddling on an epic scale, so he was most likely very happy with the new arrangement.

During the same week as Noct’s birthday, a private ceremony had been performed to make the princes’ pack official. They were still learning how to co-exist together just as Ignis and Prompto were. The one difference was that Ignis and Prompto hadn’t been married yet. Ignis insisted they live together first. Noct and Gladio had been slightly shocked by the move but understood the reason. He needed to be absolutely positive Prompto was comfortable.

Ignis already had an inkling that after Soliamare’s wedding in a few weeks, Prompto would be asking about their own. He’d actually already started planning it and couldn’t wait to show Prompto his progress. Nothing seemed to bring as much joy in life as gifting things to his omega. Prompto would groan and hide his face, but the advisor knew he loved the attention as well.

There was something about gifting your mate things that was very satisfying. Ignis had seen the same behavior with Aranea and Nyx. She was forever leaving him little trinkets in his locker. The alpha had even been allowed to go on a few missions with Nyx. Cor had been happy with her performance and appreciated the extra help.

Drautos didn’t even have an issue, and he never liked anything new. He’d single-handedly taken care of the investigation regarding Saeva and the attempted murders of King Alban and Prompto. Needless to say, Saeva was never going to see the light of day as a free woman. According to Drautos, she’d changed after her arrest.

Saeva hadn’t exactly gone insane, but she wasn’t really in her right mind anymore. Ignis figured Ardyn had messed with her sufficiently to do permanent damage. Ardyn would only vaguely allude to what he’d done after he chased her down. It was one story Ignis may never get out of his friend. The thing that mattered most was that she was locked away and unable to hurt anyone anymore.

King Alban had to contend with his remaining brothers and their betrayal. Otho had been sent away to live in the countryside. Amet, the fool that Nyx had met, was Otho’s friend in exile. It was fitting that they should spend the rest of their days together. Niflheim would survive the scandal and continue on. King Alban now appeared to be trying to follow in his father’s footsteps. It literally took getting stabbed in the back to push the issue.

A soft noise broke Ignis’ train of thought. Peering down, Ignis noted that Prompto was trying to wake up. He began rubbing the omega’s back to help rouse him.

“Iggy – mmmnn, that feels really good,” Prompto mumbled as he started to purr lightly.

Ignis loved the sound it was so relaxing. He’d wanted to ask Prompto about his day but that meant the purring would stop. Maybe he could hold off for a little while longer. Waiting paid off, and Ignis was able to enjoy another ten minutes of his omega happily purring. Finally taking a deep breath, Ignis spoke up once more. “Did you rest well?” he asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Prompto hummed. “You’re so warm. Can we stay like this forever?” he added.

“I think we might starve to death eventually.” Ignis laughed.

The blond in his arms giggled quietly. “I’m so happy we’re together.”

“As am I.”

Ignis’ plans for making dinner were put on hold for a little while longer when their cat suddenly showed up. She carefully picked her way along the back of the sofa and plonked down on Prompto’s back. The omega resting on his chest went very still, and Ignis knew what would happen next.

The purring war lasted for nearly half an hour. The cat eventually got up, stretched, and jumped off to go meow at her food bowl. Prompto then pointed to his mouth and smiled.

“Guess I need to feed you both before you faint from exhaustion.”

“Thanks Iggy!” Prompto gushed. “I love you so much!”

“I think I love you more.”

They could never reach an agreement on who loved who more. Right after dinner, they went back to cuddling on the couch, and Prompto filled Ignis in on all the details of his day. As he listened, Ignis couldn’t help but smile. He was going to get to spend the rest of his life with Prompto, and it appeared the blond shared the same enthusiasm on the subject.

THE END

Full fic can be found on AO3 HERE

#ffxv #fanfic #promnis #prompto #ignis

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sherrybaby14 · 6 years ago

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Who Am I Chapter 19

A/N: I said I wasn’t going to update this until it was done, but I’m a hypocrite. Still not finished, but still hoping to post chapter 20 by tomorrow and then it will be finished.

Warnings: None, this is a plot chapter (also hypocrite because I said I wouldn’t update until there was smut). This story is a rape/noncon story. Please do not read if this offends you. (But there’s nothing in this chapter)

Words: 7k

Summary: After leaving Steve and Bucky to redevelop your pills that blocked your Omega nature you went into heat. Bruce flew you back to Stark tower and your Alpha’s took care of you and when you woke up you were alone.

When you came to everything hurt. Your head and your body. But not your soul. It was over. No more detoxing. You were an Omega. Yourself. You reached your hand out to touch one of your Alphas but felt nothing.

You ignored the aches and sat up. You were alone in a strange room. You looked down and saw you were in a tank top and a pair of yoga pants. Was it all a dream? You went down and smelled the sheets. They were clean, no hint of Bucky or Steve.

You brought your hands to your neck. There were no claiming marks. You sat back up again and drew your legs to your chest, trying to calm the shaking that went through your body. Many muddled thoughts tried to flash through your brain, but there was only one truth that flashed. You were alone. Literally and figuratively. You stifled a cry at the realization that you got what you had wanted all along. You really were alone.

~~~

No. It couldn’t have been a dream. You jumped out of bed, ignoring your body’s protest and ran towards the door in the corner. When you flung it open you walked into a bathroom and went straight for the mirror.

The woman staring back at you made you gasp. Your eyes were clearer than before, your skin had a glow to it, your hair was a perfect texture, thicker than normal.

Tears started to well. This was the first time in your adult life you were looking at the real you. There were no pills in your system, nothing to alter your intended state. It wasn’t a stranger in the mirror, anyone would recognize you. Only now you looked…healthier, more alive somehow.

Before the water could drip down your cheek you glanced at your neck. That was what you were looking for: proof. You held up your arms and saw it there too. Tiny bruises, love bites, and actual bites decorated your body. There was no way anyone could have that much sex and walk away without a mark.

It was real. It did happen. Steve and James saw you through your heat. Maybe you weren’t so alone. Before your heart could flutter it started to fizzle.

You couldn’t remember much about last night. You didn’t even know if it was night. Some of the bruises showed signs of healing.

Though you weren’t certain what being bonded would feel like there was no claiming mark on your neck. They didn’t mate you.

The plan had been for them to do it together during your first heat. It had the best chance of taking. In fact, it was probably the only chance of them being able to simultaneously claim you. They let it pass.

Of course, that had been the plan before you turned on them, sent them away, said horrible things about them to Loki, to Tony. Shame filled you as you pinched your eyes shut.

They were only trying to help. And what was your response? To smear their names. You didn’t deserve them.

You were lucky they saw you through your heat and didn’t leave you to suffer. The thought made you sink to the floor. All you could remember was the pleasure and only the way it felt. Did they even speak to you during it? They probably hated you and were too nice to let you die.

There was a shake to your hand as you brought it to your mouth. Death. That is what would’ve happened without them. You were overheating and too stupid to even notice it. You didn’t know what a heat was like and ignored all the symptoms.

If Bruce hadn’t shown up when he did you wouldn’t have survived the night. What was wrong with you? How could you let it get that far? Maybe you did have a death wish after all.

Memories of the last time your life almost ended made you sob. When you were running away and almost fell off the edge of Stark Tower.

“Y/N STOP!” Steve’s voice was too much and you fell forward, your body moving at such a high velocity you skidded across the floor.

When you stopped the last piece of plastic sheeting gave way and you gripped on to the edge as your head hung over the open air. You vision tunneled in almost a spiral as you looked down at the city street below you. The traffic was unmistakable as the car horns echoed from a distance and the wind sent your hair flying. You pushed yourself back up and scooted away, so your body was level with the edge, horror spreading through you. If it had been a few more feet you would have plummeted to your death.

“Y/N, baby, please come over to me.” Steve’s voice was softer; the anger was gone. “You don’t want this. I know you don’t. Whatever you’re feeling, I want to help you.”

Steve was so gentle with you then. James too, and all you had done was betray their trust. And how did they repay that betrayal? By showing you affection, easing your fears.

You remembered how you felt after that. Giddy with love.

The sob quieted because you didn’t feel that way right now either.

Sure, you felt guilty and deserved to, but you weren’t that needy love-struck Omega that always came forward after your coupling.

Your heart hurt over what you had done, but what you were, who you are wasn’t either of those two things.

You hoisted yourself up off the floor and looked back in the mirror, tilting your head to the side.

“Who Am I?” The question sent a shiver down your spine.

“Knock knock.” The words and the sound broke you from your thoughts and your head snapped towards the main room. “Y/N? Are you decent?”

“I’m coming.” You turned on the sink and splashed some cold water on your face.

In the back of your mind you were hoping that Steve and Bucky were going to walk in, hold you, tell you all was forgiven and they never wanted to leave you, but when it was Bruce’s voice that fantasy vanished.

“You…really scared me there,” Bruce said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Fine.” You walked out to the main room to see Dr. Banner nervously looking around.

“Woah.” His eyes stopped on you. “You look great.”

Before you could respond you noticed the brown paper bag in his hand and your stomach let out a stabbing pain.

“Right, you haven’t eaten in days.” Bruce sat down on the bed and reached into the bag.

You felt almost feral as you ran over to him and took the burger from his hand, barely unwrapped the paper before taking a bite.

“I’m starving.” You glanced at the bag and hoped he brought more than one. “Days? How long have I been here?”

“Five.” Bruce glanced at the ceiling. “The first three you were…ummm..yeah, and the last two you’ve been asleep.”

If you weren’t so hungry you would’ve cringed in embarrassment.

“There’s a motion detector in here. So we knew you were finally awake.” Bruce set the bag down in between you two.

“We?” You hoped two names would drop from his lips.

“Me and Tony.” Bruce twiddled his thumbs. “You’re back in the tower. I brought you here after you collapsed, I figured you needed an Alpha?”

“I can tell how uncomfortable you are.” You whipped your mouth with the back of your hand. “But thank you. If you hadn’t found me, brought me to them, I would have…”

“Yeah.” Bruce sighed. “Your welcome. So what now?”

“What do you mean?” You could barely remember the last five days; you hadn’t even begun to question the future.

“Y/N. You’re an unmated Omega. It’s clear to anyone who looks at you. Keeping you here, or anywhere, is illegal.” Bruce pivoted towards you, his mouth in an awkward grimace.

“Oh.” You dropped your eyes to the bed and tried not to let them tear up.

First, you felt selfish. So far all you’d thought about was yourself, feeling shame and guilt over your treatment of your Alphas. It never entered your mind what a risk you were putting the others at.

“None of this is your fault.” Bruce straightened his back.

If it was Steve or James talking to you they would have pulled you in their lap, stroked your hair while they tried to comfort you. The idea made a hole in your heart over what you were missing, how badly you’d screwed up.

“I never should have brought you here in the first place, and for that I am sorry.” Bruce put his palms on the bed and leaned back. “But this is the situation we’re in now and the way we see it you have two options.”

You looked up at Bruce, silently pleading that one of them went back to Steve and Bucky’s apartment, wait until your next heat and let them claim you.

“Option one is going to an Omega house. We’ll come up with some story to explain your age, leave out the drug creation.” Bruce scratched the back of his head and looked at you.

You shook your head. That was too dangerous. If anyone ever got a hint about the Frankenstein concoction you had brewed up they might decide you were better off dead than risking exposure.

Even if they accepted some late bloomer story that would mean being paired with an Alpha, and you already found yours. The idea of being with anyone but Steve or Bucky made you feel sick.

“Option two, we set you up on one of the private floors, which you are never allowed to leave, get you what you need to recreate your pills and then you can go back to your old life.” Bruce smiled.

It felt like you were punched in the gut. Back on the pills? Back to being so disconnected from your emotions? To be a ghost in your own life? To have no room for anything but work? To poisoning yourself? That was option two?

“Tony’s not really thrilled about that one, but I convinced him. You will have to work fast and remain isolated. If anyone sees you or knows you’re here we will all be in huge trouble. Tony is risking a lot for this, he would probably get jail time since he owns the company.” Bruce seemed to fall back into his head. “Actually I probably would too since I knew and didn’t turn you in, and then we’re all becoming complicit if we let you recreate your medicine.”

“What…what about Steve and James?” There you went, being selfish again, but you wanted to know why they weren’t an option.

“They’ll step in and take care of you if your heat comes back.” Bruce gave a soft smile. “But do you think it will take that long to make the pills?”

Your heart broke. You brought your legs up to your chest to form a little ball. They knew that going back on the drugs was an option and they supported it? They must hate you. The nagging voice in the back of your head wouldn’t stop saying that their animosity towards you was justified.

“That’s it? That’s all they said?” You didn’t know why you were torturing yourself like this, but you were still holding out hope that they would forgive you.

“Yeah. Why? Do you want to talk to them?” Bruce stood up from the bed. “I can run and get them right now?”

“No.” You shook your head and unfolded your body. “No.”

You had to learn to listen to your instincts and right now your heart was saying that you would not be able to handle rejection from them in person. You were fragile enough and already filled with cracks. Hearing them send you away, seeing the look of disgust on their faces it would be too much and you would shatter.

“Alright.” Dr. Banner nodded his head toward the door. “I’ll let Tony know. Then we will figure out a way to transport you without anyone noticing, probably after dark when the building isn’t so crowded.”

Bruce left the room, leaving you alone again. Option two had been selected for you. Never once did you agree to it, but really what other choice was there?

The only Alphas you would ever want didn’t want you and it was all your fault. Maybe you warranted spending the rest of your life living like a drug addict. You didn’t deserve happiness.

~~~

“Everything about this is wrong.” Bucky paced in the kitchen. “We should be there when she wakes up. She’s going to be confused, alone. Maybe scared.”

“Or angry?” Steve finished Bucky’s thought. “Maybe hate us for taking away her old life?”

“She’s an Omega Steve. We’re her Alphas. Now that the toxic crap is out of her system she will see that. Understand.” Bucky didn’t stop pacing. “She will want us there.”

“But she has to make that choice.” Steve was getting sick of having this conversation, mainly because he was already having it in his head. “She’s not a normal Omega.”

“We should have claimed her.” Bucky was talking to himself. “She was ripe for it, practically begging.”

“And she was in heat, not in her right mind.” Steve folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “If it wasn’t what she wanted she would have been bound to us forever and hated us. I won’t do that to her.”

“But she wanted us to.” Bucky stopped walking and looked at Steve. “Before all of this. That was the plan. Y/N wanted to be ours.”

“We can’t help her more than we already have.” Steve shook his head. “She’ll ask for us, and this way we know, without a hint of doubt, that we’re all in this together. Equally.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Bucky folded his arms.

“Then…it wasn’t meant to be.” Steve pushed off the counter and started pacing. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she will wake up scared. We should’ve have stayed.”

“No.” Bucky leaned against the table. “If she is still angry after all of this it would’ve broken me.”

Steve knew they were feeding off each other, both equal parts confident their Omega was going to ask for them and terrified they made a mistake by leaving her. Right now there was nothing they could do but wait.

~~~

Two days. It was two long excruciating days. Steve couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t do anything but think of Y/N.

Bucky wasn’t doing any better.

“What if…what if she doesn’t wake up?” Steve finally asked the question that was plaguing the back of his mind. “What if we were too late?”

“Don’t say that.” Bucky sighed and ran his fingers over his hair before jumping up from the kitchen table. “That’s it. I’m going to check on her.”

As if on cue the doors to the elevator popped open. Steve’s adrenaline flared, hoping to see their Omega step out. Everything deflated when Tony walked into the room.

“Well, you two look like shit.” Tony kept alternating his eyes between them.

“Where is she?” Steve asked.

“How is she?” Bucky spoke at the exact same time.

“Have a seat.” Tony pulled out a chair.

Neither of the Alpha’s sat down. Tony gathered half of his lip upward. Steve clenched. This was bad news.

“She is fine.” Tony held his hands up. “Woke up starving, Bruce said she looks good though. Is that enough to get you two to stop looking like you’re going to beat me to a pulp?”

A shudder went through Steve as he exhaled. He was almost relieved enough to cry. Bucky had the same look as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Now as to the where.” Tony blew a raspberry. “Don’t shoot the messenger, alright?”

Steve braced himself for what Tony was about to say.

“She wants her pills back. I’m setting her up in a private lab until she’s back on them. Then she is free to go wherever she wants.” Tony kept his hands in the air.

Anger exploded through Steve. All he could see was red. SMASH! Bucky hit the table so hard the metal dented as he popped up from his chair.

“NO.”

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?”

“WHERE IS SHE?”

“NOT AN OPTION.”

Bucky and Steve were shouting at Tony at the same time. It was impossible for Steve to tell what he was saying and what Bucky was saying since he was blinded by rage.

Tony responded by folding his fists until only the index finger was up and sticking one in each ear.

Steve took a few heavy breaths, trying to hide the shake in his voice and calm down enough to continue the conversation without picking up the Beta and tossing him through the wall.

“Where is she?” Steve cracked his jaw. “I want to see her.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but she doesn’t want to see you.” Tony sighed.

Images of her flashed through his mind. The smile on her face when he walked in, the way she laughed at his stupid jokes, how she melted against him when he held her. Then the pain on her face when they were first together, the fear that radiated off of her during her relapses, and her irate behavior.

One of them was the real her. He had always assumed it was the former, but now without anything in her system, he saw it was the later. The girl he loved might not exist. Steve felt dizzy at the realization and fell into a chair.

“She didn’t say that.” Bucky looked at Tony. “You’re lying.”

“Look, Bruce asked her point blank if she wanted to talk to you and she said no.” Tony dropped his hands to the table. “I’m sorry guys. This situation turned into a mess, and believe it or not, I was rooting for you in the end.”

Steve was familiar with pain. He’d had his fair share, but nothing like this. Never like this.

“I’ll leave you two to process this.” Tony rose from the table. “Maybe take some time and then make an appointment at an Omega house.”

Both Bucky and Steve growled at Tony. The Beta raised his hands again and shook his head.

There would never be another Omega. Y/N was the only one Steve would ever want.

“Things are a little slow right now. Take all the time you guys need.” Tony started to back away.

He thought the Alphas were going to attack him. Part of Steve wanted to. He wanted to grab Tony and pin him to the ground until he said exactly where Y/N was. Then Steve wanted to show up, throw her over his shoulder, and bring back his girl.

He thought back to her heat. How she promised she would never leave again. How she kept apologizing. Was it all a show? Pheremones she couldn’t control?

Steve was so lost in thought he didn’t notice Tony leave until the ding of the elevator sounded. Leaving him and Bucky alone.

He had a hard time looking at his best friend, but Steve raised his head to see Bucky shaking with anger.

“AHHH!” Bucky let out a scream and flipped the metal table, then went over to the wall and started punching.

Steve wished he could join him in anger, but right now all he felt was numb. How had it gone so wrong?

~~~

Nine hours. That was all it took. You held the tiny white compressed powder between your thumb and forefinger.

Once your orientation set in your cells stopped mutating. It took about an hour to locate the line that needed suppressing and another eight to mix the ingredients.

Now you held the pill and wondered what would happen if you popped it. You thought it would maybe take a few days to feel the effects. Taking the thing shouldn’t even be a question, but you sat staring at it, the small white thing carrying the weight of the world with it.

Steve would be so disappointed. Bucky would be more understanding, but even he wouldn’t be able to hide his hurt.

Your lip started to quiver and you set the pill down, burying your face in your hands again. You were all cried out.

A ding sounded and you looked up from your makeshift lab bench. You got the idea you were in one of the basement levels. There were no windows, all the walls were concrete. There was a decent amount of square footage, but the bathroom had stalls for the toilets and showers. This was never designed for residential use.

Outside of your cot, a refrigerator, a small table, the desk, and lab station the whole floor was empty. Some of the heavy black marks on the floor made you think it may have housed computer servers at one point, but the technical advances left those obsolete and the floor empty and secure.

The ding sounded again. It came from the desk a few feet away. You got up from your bench and moved to the chair. An e-mail. You opened it up.

Y/N,

Hope your first day went well. Call or e-mail me if you need anything. I’ll stop in next week.

Bruce

You knew you should e-mail him back and tell him you were done. The pill was finished, you’d be fine in a few days. But when you hit reply you couldn’t bring yourself to type the words.

It was only going to lead to heartache, but your fingers worked faster than your brain and you pulled up a web browser. Without hesitation, you typed in Steve Rogers James Barnes in the search engine.

A smile crossed your face when official photographs of your Alphas popped up. You scrolled down and saw each of them had their own Wikipedia page, along with fan sites, and news stories about their latest accomplishments.

They were both heroes. Not only that, but they were both your heroes. Your saviors. Only you were too damaged to see that. Now it was too late.

You would never be happy without them and they didn’t want you, so you might as well take the pills.

You pulled back up the e-mail to Bruce and started typing.

Please tell Steve and James I’m sorry.

You deleted it and started over.

Please tell Steve and James I miss them.

That still didn’t sound right. You wished you had a way to contact them directly without going through Bruce. Even though you had a cell phone with you it wasn’t like their numbers were listed. This was the only way.

You took a breath and tried again.

Please tell Steve and James I love them.

You read the eight words over and over again. What did it matter? You were too late. They gave you their love and all you did was stomp on it.

You deleted the e-mail and stood up from the chair. When you made it to the cot you collapsed on your side and brought your knees to your chest as the tears started to fall again.

“Shhhh…” James rubbed your back. “It’s okay Doll. It will all be okay.”

You imagined Steve kissing your shoulder as you snuggled in between them. It was all in your head, but living in the fantasy was the only thing you could do to fall asleep.

~~~

When you woke you still felt hollow. A piece of you was missing, rather two pieces. The idea of taking the pill was becoming more appealing. Sure it would stunt your emotions again, but the idea of feeling nothing was better than what you were currently feeling.

You struggled with the idea the entire time you showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed. Every time you got close to making a decision Steve and Bucky’s disapproval made your heart hurt.

Of course, what hurt more was that they did approve. There’s no way you would be in this situation if they hadn’t. You thought back to your first time with Steve, the irate Alpha who was so affected by the upset Omega.

You wished that would happen again. That he would storm down here, throw you over his shoulder and take you back to your apartment. The fantasy made you smile and your heart lurch.

The smile faded and your heart sunk when rationality told you that wasn’t going to happen. You had your chance with him and blew it. Besides, you knew he didn’t want to be in that situation again.

It wouldn’t be like the first time though, or any of the other times you relapsed. If he or James would just show up you would fall into their arms, beg forgiveness, and confess your love for them.

But they knew that and still didn’t come for you.

When you sat down at your work station you picked up the pill. Again your hand shook and you put it down.

You were going to go crazy if you didn’t find some way to clear your mind.

You had no clue where to start with that but figured Google was as good a place as any. You went to the computer and searched for ways to clear your mind.

A lot of yoga stud flooded the screen. You’d never tried any of that before but right now you were desperate. You clicked the first video and went to youtube.

A grey-haired woman sitting on your floor with her legs in a pretzel appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to beginning yoga.” She smiled.

You tilted the screen and tried to sit in the same way as her.

“We’re going to get right into it with some breathing exercises.”

At first, you found it difficult to copy, but you through yourself head first into the videos. When the first one ended you didn’t stop the autoplay from continuing.

By the third video, you thought you had some of the stances down pretty good. By the fifth video, you realized there was a lot more to yoga than you thought. By the eighth video, your body was sore, but your mind felt clearer than it had in forever.

When video number ten was over the autoplay stopped. You went to see why and realized you had watched the entire series and it was eleven o’clock at night.

The entire day was spent watching youtube. You knew it had been a few hours, but nothing like this.

Your mouth hung open in shock as you sat in the chair.

“I like yoga.” You spoke to nobody in particular.

Then you tilted your head to the side and sat up straighter.

“I like yoga.” There was a confidence in your voice.

All your life you followed your passion for science, but it consumed everything and was tied to the need to conceal your Omega status.

Today felt like a small victory. For the first time, you had no pressure. No secret to protect, no Alphas to please. It was just you.

That didn’t eliminate the guilt of losing the Alphas or your desire for them, but it did give you a slight answer to the person you were.

You let out a yawn and realized you were also a tired person. You shut down the computer and went back to your cot.

“How was your day doll?” Steve opened his arms for you to crawl against his chest.

“It was good.” You smiled as you tilted your chin up to look at him. “I learned about myself a little.”

“Really? That makes me happy.” Steve placed a peck on your lips.

“All we ever wanted was for you to be happy.” Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist as he kissed the top of your head.

You let the fantasy play out in your head as you drifted off to sleep, wishing this was really the way things were.

~~~

The days started playing out the same. You sort of liked ballet, but you lacked the coordination. You did discover you were much more flexible than you thought. Zumba was sort of fun. You didn’t have the equipment for Pilates.

That was a big problem for the youtube hobby channels. You wanted to try knitting or playing the guitar or even one of those painting videos, but you didn’t have the supplies so you kept to things that required no additional tools.

Today you found yourself down a science rabbit hole. Your specialty was always genetics and gene mutation, but you were branching out. The latest article was on mutating viruses. It gave you some new theories you wanted to test. Those were supplies you could ask for and you added them to your list to send Bruce.

Maybe you could start doing other experiments while you were down here. Asking for a flute would draw attention but some of these chemical compounds wouldn’t raise a concern.

Another pang of guilt hit over what you were doing. This was selfish behavior. Tony Stark was risking a lot by letting you stay down here. You were supposed to use the time to get your pill set and get the hell out of here before anyone got in trouble.

But the more you were learning about yourself the more questions you had. How did you like your eggs? Would you be able to bake a cake shaped like a cartoon character? If you were able to splice a cell with an egromatic charge could it cause cell regrowth and would those proteins result in a patentable medication?

You knew two people who would support you in finding out those answers. These activities were keeping you occupied, but your head and heart still constantly floated to the two Alphas. Everything you did went back to the two of them. They were the ones you wanted to share the news with, tell them about your day, hear about theirs.

You shut your eyes as tears started to swell. You would do anything to hear how they were doing. Every time you almost caved and e-mailed Bruce to ask for them the fear of rejection came back.

What if they already moved on? What if they hadn’t given you a second thought? Then all of this learning would be for nothing because the result would be taking the pill.

And every day you were further and further from wanting to go down that path. So you decided to stay selfish. Act like you were hard at work on your medication, when really you spent the time learning about yourself.

It was time for bed again and as always the second you shut your eyes you weren’t on a tiny cot in a basement. You were in a king sized with both of them. The imaginary conversations and phantom touches were becoming your favorite part of your life. You wished they were real.

Steve and Bucky said they would help you through your heat again. It was impossible to tell when it would come next since your body was so deregulated from years of neglect. Every night before you fell asleep you wished it would come soon. Then there would be an excuse to see them again. You could have a chance to apologize, prove how much you loved them. Maybe it would be enough for them to take you back.

~~~

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Steve was aware of the grief cycle, but awareness didn’t stop him from traveling the circle.

Acceptance. That was the one he was dreading because that would be she was really gone. He would give anything for that not to be true. He rolled his eyes as he tried to internally bargain with himself.

The door to Bucky’s room slammed shut. Anger. Steve’s best friend was stuck in stage two. The last week was hell for both men. He tried to channel everything into the gym. Working out had always been the best way for him to avoid problems.

Steve had no clue what Bucky was up to. It was obvious some of the other Alpha’s anger was directed at him. Maybe it was deserved. He was the one who convinced Bucky they shouldn’t mark her, that it should be her choice.

Maybe if they had Y/N’s good side would’ve won out. Of course, if she was still in the building that meant her heat could come back. If that happened Steve would not hesitate to lay his claim.

Even if it was wrong, it was too difficult the last time and he didn’t think he had the level of control not to again.

He hoped her heat hit before she rediscovered the formula for those pills, of course, she was so smart she was probably back on them already just waiting for them to take full effect before she left.

Steve thought about chasing her, finding her and then taking them away again. It would be for her own good. But he knew that was wrong. She had a choice. She made it. There was no doubt it was the wrong one, but it was hers.

His biggest fear was her rejecting them and going to an Omega house, finding another Alpha to take care of her. Thought the idea enraged him it was not as bad as her slowly poisoning herself with the drugs.

Steve was angry enough he debated on calling the authorities himself. The only thing that stopped him was the threat to Y/N. He was angry enough about her medication, he could only imagine was other Alphas would think. The government might decide it was more prudent to put her down than have other Omegas hear about the pills that block their makeup.

The door to Bucky’s room opened and he came running down the stairs with some rolled up paper in his hands.

“Hear me out.” Bucky strode over to the new kitchen table.

This was the first he’d spoken that wasn’t yelling all week. Steve grabbed his water bottle and went to the table.

“Blueprints?” Steve recognized the schematics.

“The way I see it; Tony has her stashed away on one of these floors.” Bucky pointed to the area under construction. “I narrowed it down to twenty-three most likely ones.”

“And then what” Steve looked over at Bucky.

“We find her, plead our case. Tell her we love her. We’ll do anything if she comes home.” Bucky spoke without hidden context.

“Didn’t we already do that?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then we go back to the way things were.” Bucky started to make a fist. “We help her.”

“Bucky.” Steve recognized this phase. His friend moved on to bargaining. “The drugs are out of her system. It wouldn’t be helping her at this point. It would be…”

Bucky’s face dropped.

“Fine. I’ll do it without you.” He turned his attention back to the map.

Steve snapped at the threat. He reached out and grabbed the other Alpha by the throat.

“If you lay a hand on her…” Steve didn’t get the sentence out before Bucky chopped his arm.

Then he swung left and Steve took a sock to the jaw. Before Steve hit the floor he threw himself as Bucky, shouldering him in the gut and lifting him in the air, smashing him into the kitchen table, splintering it into pieces.

Bucky responded by punching into Steve’s side and trying to twist his legs to get the upper hand. Both of them beat on each other, neither of them holding back.

Pain exploded in Steve’s back when Bucky managed to stand up and slam his boot into the middle. Steve just spun and blocked the second kick, grabbing Bucky’s ankle. He was met with a slam of the head and fell to the ground, pulling Bucky’s leg with him.

They continued, back and forth. Steve would throw Bucky against a wall, only to have his legs taken out from under him smacking into the floor with a thud. Steve would roll away seconds before Bucky stomped on his face, the jump up and knock Bucky in the gut.

After a few minutes, both were likely concussed and running out of steam. Steve managed to roll on top of Bucky and pulled his elbow back, ready to punch him in the eye, but he was getting too tired and his aim was off.

He missed and slammed his fist into the floor. Pain exploded down his knuckles and he rolled to his back, wincing and clutching his hand.

Both of them were gasping for breath. Little black dots decorated Steve’s vision and he was sure Bucky felt the same as they lay there in silence.

“What are we going to do?” Bucky finally asked, there was a break to his voice.

“I don’t know.” Steve stared at the ceiling wishing he had an answer because right now nothing didn’t feel like much of an option.

~~~

#stucky/reader #a/b/o dynamics #bucky x reader #steve x reader #omegaverse #marvel fanfic

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