#and he’s so doubtful and suspicious and paranoid i felt fucking Sick

[priestfrommidnightmass]

these violent delights is actually kind of ruining my life because i’ve never read something that portrays a characters self hatred so thoroughly and unavoidably and entirely Needlessly. it’s tearing me apart if i’m being quite honest

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 16: The Sauna Test

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Henderson!reader

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter summary: Eleven, Max, Nancy, and Jonathan had all grown more suspicious of you and Billy after what El and Max had seen, but when everyone gets separated, the monster decides to rear its ugly head in more ways than one.

Word Count: 3352

Warnings: some angst, some fluff, some action finally (in more ways than one!!), a lil bit of cheating, language, pretty normal stuff

A/N: And we're finally getting somewhere with the Jonathan and reader plot line!!! I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and as always, my ask box and requests and tag lists are open babies! Love ya!

Tags: @just-my-fandom @nightbu-g

El couldn't let go of what she'd seen.

You being with Billy was weird enough and its strangeness had already burrowed under her skin, making her squirm. But the way you were acting, what she had seen that night when she was messing around, it wasn't right.

But what she had seen of Heather had made her downright disturbed. Sure, Billy was an asshole and she knew not to be around him, but he wasn't a murderer... right?

"Hey, there's nothing to worry about anymore, okay?" Max told her, noticing the way that El had gotten lost in her worried thoughts.

El gave her a doubtful look and let out a huff. "It doesn't make sense," she grumbled.

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Heather. The blood. The ice... Y/N."

"Heather had a fever, so she took a cold bath, but she's better now. And Y/N is probably trying to make Billy a better person or something. That has to be it. I don't know where that blood came from, but... we saw her. We saw them both. They're totally fine."

El stared at the wall, her brows furrowed. "What about Billy?"

"What about him?"

"He seemed wrong."

Max chuckled. "Wrong is kind of like his default. But it's nice to know he's not a murderer, because that totally would've sucked. Hell, maybe he seemed different because Y/N's making him better."

The two girls chuckled, and the conversation fell silent.

***

As soon as panicked panting sounded in the next room, Heather rose to her feet and walked over to the two people you held captive. Heather's parents.

You and Billy watched from afar as she spoke to her father, neglecting his pleas before stepping away and allowing you and Billy to replace her spot. Billy knelt in front of Janet as you knelt in front of Tom, both of you instructing them to stay still.

Simultaneously, you both rose to your feet and the three of you walked up the metal stairs. As you ascended the stairs, you could hear their pleas become drowned out by the guttural growls and snarls.

***

The next morning, you had awoke with a heavy pit in your stomach.

The image of Heather's overtaking was still etched behind your eyelids, and though you hadn't witnessed the other overtakings, you imagined that they occurred very similarly.

But the screams. You could never ignore the screams.

Silently, you slipped out of your bed and walked into the kitchen, pulling the freezer open and staring blankly.

The pint of strawberry ice cream from Scoops still sat there, perfectly untouched.

God, you wanted to sob. You wanted to scream. You wanted to go back to when your life was normal- well, more normal than this. Than being fucking possessed by this strange creature who was dragging you through hell.

You wanted to see your brother and his friends again. You wanted to see your friends again. Steve and Robin and Nancy and Jonathan.

Jonathan.

You were mentally kicking yourself, realizing that you spent the past six months avoiding him and now you don't know if you'll ever see him again.

You closed the freezer and scrubbed at your face, only to realize that tears had soaked your cheeks. Quickly, you swiped away the tears and rushed back to your room, not wanting to risk getting caught by your mother and having that creature take over once more.

After locking the door behind you, you curled up on your bed and pulled the blankets over your body. Maybe if you slept, you wouldn't have to deal with all this pain and guilt.

Just as you were drifting off, the doorbell rang. Immediately, your anxiety shot through the roof, and you contemplated not answering the door, but then the doorbell rang once more. You took deep breaths and slowly creeped out of bed, unlocking your door and leaving your room before stepping up to the front door.

Peering through the peephole, your heart sunk to your feet when you saw who was outside. Jonathan stood there awkwardly, his head bowed and his hands in his pockets.

You began to slowly walk away from the door when Jonathan began to speak, his voice traveling into the house. "Y/N?" he called out. "Are you home? I drove by the pool and you weren't there. I just... I was wondering if we could talk?" He sounded stressed, maybe even upset.

Your emotions took over, and against your better judgement, you pulled the door open. You watched as his eyebrows rose in surprise at the fact that you actually opened the door. "What's wrong?" you hummed. "I thought you had work today."

He chuckled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, that's uh... That's part of the issue," he coughed out. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping to the side and allowing him to come inside before you shut the door behind him. Afterwards, you stepped next to him and the two of sat down on the couch. "So, what's going on?"

"I got fired. Well, Nancy and I got fired."

Your brows knitted together in confusion. "Fired? How? I thought you were doing amazing at the post!" You tucked your legs under yourself and turned to face him directly.

"I was, and I really liked it there! But..." He let out a sigh. "Nancy had answered a call a few days ago from this old woman, saying that all of her fertilizer was going missing."

Sounds like a newsworthy story," you teased.

"Hey, it's serious!"

You held up your hands in surrender, but a giggle slipped past your lips. "Sorry, sorry. Continue."

He let out a playful huff, a smile cracking at the corners of his mouth. "Anyway, she realized that the fertilizer was going missing because there were rats in her basement that were eating it and the rats... They were getting sick, or something." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Nancy and I went to investigate, and we didn't ask any of the higher ups because we knew that they would tell us that it was stupid. We went, and we realized that she was telling the truth. The rats had eaten whole bags of fertilizer."

"Okay, hold on, you said the rats were different? In what way?"

He shrugged, shaking his head. "I have no idea. It was like they were feral, diseased." He let out a sigh before continuing. "We went back to work the next day and Nancy told everyone about what we saw. Like we expected, everyone just thought we were being stupid. That she was some paranoid and lonely old woman who sucked us into one of her many conspiracy theories so she could spend time with somebody."

Jonathan paused, lost in thought with a deep line set between his brows. Silently, you reached forward and smoothed the line with your thumb, brushing some hair away from his face at the same time. "So you got fired because you followed a potential story?"

He shook his head. "We went back last night, and we found her in her basement. She had eaten the fertilizer, along with a whole bunch of chemicals that we found around the house. She was screaming about how she had to go back." He stared silently at the carpet. "Luckily, the ambulance was able to stabilize her and she's safe at the hospital."

You could tell how much guilt he was harboring, how heavy everything weighed on his shoulders. You rested your hand on his shoulder and squeezed, earning a small smile from him. "You saved her, Johnny. I don't think there's anything you should feel bad about."

A sigh left his lips. "Tom thinks that we abused his trust, and we fed into her delusions. So he fired us."

The mention of Tom gave you flashbacks to last night, but you quickly smothered them and instead gave Jonathan a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry."

"I drove Nancy home, and we... we got into a huge fight about everything that happened. About how I needed that job and she didn't, and she fucked it up for both of us. I-I said some things I didn't mean, but..." He returned his gaze to you finally. "I'm just hurt and guilty and confused about how I feel at the same time."

"Well," you sighed, letting your hand drop from his shoulder to his hand, linking your fingers with his. "I know that you both did what you think was right, and I know that you both were so concerned about this because you've seen things that make you worry that it could be something... Out of the ordinary." You scooted a bit closer, looking him in the eye. "But I also know that maybe you let Nancy drag you into this big mess, and you blame her for everything that happened. But Nancy has been going through her own problems, and maybe she felt that she needed to prove herself and her judgement was clouded by that."

He was silent for a moment, letting his eyes search yours as he looked for the words to say. "I should call her. Apologize to her."

You sighed. "Maybe. Or maybe you should let it sit for a bit, make sure you have all of your emotions lined up, because I know you both get a bit hot-headed when you're defending your actions."

He chuckled at that, his eyes dropping to your linked hands and gliding his thumb along your knuckles. "Y'know, Max and El came up to me yesterday, and they said they were looking for you. That they were worried about you."

You resisted the urge to stiffen, instead taking a deep breath and trying to stay calm. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah, they said that you were being really weird. That you were even hanging out with Billy. It even freaked me out a little bit. I... I guess that was part of the reason I came here, to talk to you. I wanted to make sure you were okay, and now I feel stupid for even worrying."

Please don't feel stupid. Listen to that gut instinct. Please.

"I mean, it definitely is a little stupid," you teased, nudging his shoulder. "I think those girls just have a bit of an overactive imagination. I'm just fine. Just normal old me."

"Thank god for that," he added, a full smile finally spreading across his face.

You returned his smile before rising off the couch. "Do you want something to drink or eat?"

He shook his head, also pushing himself to his feet. "No, I should probably get going. Thank you, though."

You nodded, walking him to the door and opening it for him. "Of course. Thanks for checking up on me, Jonathan, even if I didn't need it."

He stepped out the door and stood on the porch for a moment, eyes flitting over your face. "I missed you, Y/N."

A small sigh left your lips. "I missed you too. So much. Stay in touch, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Bye, Y/N."

"Bye, Johnny." With one final wave, you closed the front door.

***

After seeing Jonathan that morning, you had felt a sort of urge to see him again, a magnetic pull towards that boy who broke your heart.

You knew it was dangerous to see him, not only because he was now in a committed relationship with your friend (though after what he told you had happened between them, you wondered if that label would last), but also due to the fact that you had no idea when this creature controlling you would make you snap and do god-knows-what.

So you locked yourself in your room once more, staring at the ceiling as you laid on the floor and attempted to will this horrible longing feeling away.

To no one's surprise, it didn't work.

Your next idea was to go spend time with Steve, hoping that maybe he would talk some sense into you. You threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater and drove to the mall in the sweltering heat, not wanting to risk letting your skin bubble and sizzle under the sun like BIlly's had.

But of course, neither Steve nor Robin were working, and no one had heard from them.

Under normal circumstances, you would be worried about their wellbeing, but you frankly had too much on your mind concerning your own wellbeing that you didn't fret about it. Instead, you ordered a pint of strawberry and a pint of mint chip from the boy at the counter and hurried out of the mall.

Before you could even stop yourself, you had pulled up (in the

car you had finally gotten fixed) onto the rocky front yard of the Byers' house.

With a few mumbled profanities towards your impulsiveness, you grabbed both pints of ice cream and stepped up the front porch steps that creaked under your feet. You knocked at the front door and shifted awkwardly, turning slightly to glance at the setting sun.

"Y/N?"

You turned around to face Jonathan who stood at the door, now dressed in an olive green tee shirt and a pair of jeans. "Hi!" you hummed, smiling brightly.

"Hi," he chuckled, mirroring your smile. "What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, brushing past him and walking into the house. "I thought you might still be feeling down about today, so I wanted to bring you some ice cream. You still like mint chip, right?"

His eyes followed your figure as you walked into the kitchen and grabbed two spoons for the both of you. "Uh, yeah. Thanks...?"

You finally stopped moving for a moment to take in his confused state. With a sigh, you sat down on the couch, placing the ice cream and spoons down on the coffee table. "And after seeing you today, I realized how much I missed spending time with you. I guess... I guess I just wanted to see you again and catch up."

His look of confusion slowly melted into one of comfort and slight melancholy. "I missed you too. I'm glad you came over." We walked over and sat on the couch, his leg bumping into yours. "And I'm glad that you brought me ice cream."

You nudged his shoulder with yours, giving him a beaming smile. "You're lucky I remembered your favorite. I was just about to get some only for me."

He shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I don't mind sharing."

"I do!"

He laughed, resting his head on your shoulder as his shoulders shook with giggles. You laughed with him, but you were acutely aware of how close he was to you.

As your laughs died down, the two of you opened your individual pints of ice cream and began to dig in. "Have you talked to Nancy yet?" you asked before shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "Not yet. I'm taking your advice and letting everything settle for a bit," he replied, leaning back on the couch. "I just... our argument made me realize a lot."

"Like what?" you mirrored his position, leaning back on the arm of the couch.

"I mean, I knew that we both came from different backgrounds and we would never agree on some things, but..." He poked his ice cream with his spoon. "I guess I never realized that though we've spent so much time together, she still has this idea that everyone has it as good as she does. That people can just throw away something that doesn't fit them perfectly because they have the money to do so." He lifted his eyes from his ice cream and up to you. "And maybe I'm narrow-minded too, spending time with other people who knew what it was like living without a lot of money."

You frowned as he spoke, slowly leaning forward to set your ice cream and spoon down on the coffee table. "Do you think that it could... hurt you guys in the long run? Knowing what she sees about the whole situation?"

He set his ice cream down as well, pulling his feet up onto the couch and crossing his legs. "I-I don't know."

Silently, the two of you searched each other's eyes with baited breath, a million thoughts racing through your head.

It was at that moment that your judgement took a back seat, and you felt that inky fog lurking in your mind.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He let out a hum of surprise, but he made no move to pull away from you. Slowly, you moved your hands to the back of his neck and scooted closer to him so you didn't have to crane your neck. You huffed out a sigh of relief as his hands finally rested on your cheeks, his shoulders beginning to lose their tension as he finally relaxed into the kiss.

Just as you were about to deepen the kiss, you felt the familiar surge of black course through your veins, your skin beginning to burn as black veins snaked up your arms and neck.

As the pull towards the creature grew stronger, your lips fell from Jonathan's and you fought the creature for control.

Jonathan gave you a confused look when you pulled away, but he quickly pushed himself away from you when he noticed the inky veins that adorned your skin. "Y/N," he gasped, his eyes wide with panic and fear. You immediately pushed yourself off the couch and rushed towards the door, only for Jonathan to lurch forward and grab your wrist. "Y/N, what the fuck is going on!"

You snapped your gaze to him, feeling that fog slowly take over your mind as you fought to stay awake. "Let me go," you begged. "Please, I don't want to hurt you."

"What?"

"Let me go, Jonathan!"

Your tone startled him, loosening his grip on your wrist just enough for you to slip away from him and out the door before the creature took control.

***

Jonathan began to pace back and forth a few minutes after... Whatever had just happened.

He knew those veins, those pitch black veins that flooded your skin. He saw them when he had to exorcise his own brother, and now another person he cared for so dearly was overtaken by that same creature.

When Will was fighting was controlled by that same creature, though, he didn't seem so... normal. Was it evolving? Learning?

That then made him question if it was even really you. Maybe it had learned your mannerisms, took advantage of the thoughts it had access to.

What if you didn't even want to kiss him, but that thing made you?

He shook the thought from his head. He knew you loved him, that you wanted to be with him. But he also knew that you wouldn't overstep since him and Nancy were still together, even though they had gotten in a fight.

But God, he'd kiss you again in an instant if given the chance.

With a huff, he sat back down on the couch and stared at the two half-eaten pints of ice cream, guilt and worry gnawing at his insides.

He needed to tell Nancy about what happened to you. Just not now.

***

You sat at the landing of the metal warehouse stairs, silently watching Heather patch up Billy's bloodied body as you thought back on what happened just minutes ago.

"The girl, was it her?" Heather asked, gently dabbing a damp cloth over Billy's shoulder.

"Yeah," Billy responded gruffly, his jaw set tight. "It was her. She knows now. She knows about me."

"Jonathan knows too," you voiced silently. "He saw."

He gripped onto Heather's wrist, stopping her actions. "She could've killed me," Billy continued, ignoring your statement.

"Yes. But not us," heather whispered. Silently, she turned to look over the rows of individuals you've sacrificed, people overtaken by the monster.

"Not us," you repeated.

[strangerobin]

Rue: Chapter 6 (Jasper Hale x OC)

Just know that, in another life where I was free of lies and deceit, I would move heaven and earth just to stay alongside you. To spend a lifetime with you. Body and soul.

Or

Stolen away just nights before their wedding, Jasper had mourned the loss of his lover, Adeline, for centuries. Until a similar face showed up one day out of the blue, just as beautiful and just as youthful.

Part 6

A plan of sorts that leaves neither parties thrilled.

She was still waiting for a sign.

On occasions, Adeline felt watched and the unease in her heart refused to subside. Something was about to happen to break this faux peace, she was sure; but just what it was she had no clue. And the more time had passed, the more on edge and paranoid she got, going so far as to snapping at poor Loreen for the smallest of things. She hated herself more than ever.

In the end, the sign she had been waiting for came in the form of flowers.

Cornflowers to be exact.

A bouquet was left in the early morning on the doorsteps of their little shared house. No one had heard the deliverer. Anakin and Teddy were away, engaging in their own businesses. Loreen was still tucked safely in her little fort of plushies and rag dolls. Adeline had merely opened the door to enjoy some fresh air and was instead met with a bouquet of cornflowers arranged with utmost care.

Your eyes are the colour of cornflowers.

A man she loved once told her. So she was reminded of.

Holding the bouquet as far away from herself as possible, she chucked the bouquet straight into the trash and went about her day as if nothing happened. As if she wasn’t bouncing her leg non-stop while watching reruns on TV, or how distracted she was, or how Loreen kept shooting worried glances at her. As if she wasn’t practically vibrating anxiety off her being.

The flowers never stopped. Every morning a fresh batch was laid on the doorsteps, Loreen even managed to steal some and displayed them in a pretty little vase in her room. Out of spite, Adeline thought. She tried to stay vigilant and stand guard at the door, but then they would only appear elsewhere around the house. She knew then that there was no running from this.

Adeline would bet good money on who her secret admirer (stalker) was. She did not remember him as a stubborn man; but from the persistence of his action she had gathered what game he was playing at. This was an open challenge issued to her, a taunt, he wouldn’t confront her upfront. No, he was patient with his schemes and would strike only when the hour was ripe; he was the predator and her the prey now. And she was so so tempted to rise to the bait. But she must keep her cool, and not loose her mind. He might loose his interest in her yet.

In a century or two. Her treacherous mind taunted mercilessly.

Oh but how wrong was she.

The next taunt came the next day in the form of a book, Frankenstein.

Specifically, the exact copy of the cheap paperback edition she had left behind in Whitehorse months ago.

In a fit of hysterics, she threw open the front door and went all the way up to the front yard and bellowed into the empty countryside. “Leave me the fuck alone you sick bastard!”

Only later did she start to question.

How did he find her? How did he manage to track her down from Whitehorse to Minnesota and now Colorado? She was confident of her concealment ability.

So then, how?

*

From a distance, Jasper watched the girl sitting at the front porch, lacing up her roller skates. The child turned her heard, seemingly to answer someone inside the house before finishing up the rest of her laces. Then in trepidation she tested water with the first few step, before gaining confidence and propelling herself forward into the open road.

In her flowy sundress and a light cardigan, seemingly not minding the alpine chill, the child spread out her arms and laughed with her head thrown back, as if she were soaring amongst the wind instead. She seemed like any other child, if it weren’t for her scent, and that luminous skin in the morning light.

Jasper casually got out of his car and leaned against it, unsubtly observing the girl. That seemed to catch the child’s attention as she eyed him suspiciously while zipping past the first time; before turning round at the end of the drive and passing by again. If she was scared then she hardly showed it. After a few back and forth, she finally slowed a few meters from Jasper and regarded him cooly.

“Who are you?” Her asked in a sing-song voice. “If you’re here to sell cable or insurance or fire resistant something, we’re not interested.”

“Ah I see so you are the Madame of the house then, little lady.” Jasper chuckled and watched as the child pouted and crossed her arms, petulant at the name. Yes, she was like one of those children too smart for their own good, sharp witted but quick to anger. And much too trusting. “Fear not, I am only a friend. Tell me, do you live here with family?”

“Half siblings.” The child corrected.

“And is not your half-sister called Adeline?”

“And you are?”

“A long time... friend.” He hesitated after a second.

“Oh?” Now her voice was laced with suspicion.

Jasper smiled charismatically and exerted an air of reassurance over the child. “Do you think you can send a message from me to her?”

The child frowned, clearly reluctant. “Couldn’t you do it yourself? If you really are her friend. She’s in a mood these days and I don't want to cross anymore than I need to.”

“I don’t think she’d like to see me for now.” Jasper shrugged nonchalantly, as if he was not in fact stalking the said person, but simply had a disagreement with her over a conversation during bar night.

She narrowed her eyes at him again.

“What’s in this for me?”

Jasper bowed his head respectfully. “Of course there will be payment on my part. I shall be forever in your debt.”

She pursed her lips and pondered on the request thoughtfully. “If I am to be messenger,” She began slowly. “I’d like a year’s worth of Ben and Jerry’s. And a year’s subscription of Netflix!” She looked so haughty then, so proud of herself for striking a deal that he had to chuckle.

“Oh little lady.” He said in between laughs, somehow adoring the sweet innocence of the child. “You drive a hard bargain don’t you? Yes of course I promise.” He put a hand over his heart and bowed. “Cross may heart and hope to die.”

That seemed to satisfy the child and she grinned cheekily at him, no doubt pleased with her little bargain of free ice cream and Netflix films.

“Here.” He produced from his pocket a single map. And handed it to the girl. She eyed it suspiciously before taking in gingerly, their hands briefly touching. If she noticed his ice cold skin then she did not make a remark.

Instead her eyes flickered back to him and she chewed on her lips thoughtfully before finally opening her mouth. “I hope... I hope whatever it is between the two of you, all will be well soon.”

Momentarily caught surprised, Jasper straightened his stance and looked to the house in the distance with longing and tenderness.

“Yes I hope so too.”

*

“Oh Lorie you’re finally back. Fun time roller skating?”

Adeline was sitting on the sofa, in a bathrobe with blankets wrapped all around herself up to her head flipping through the channels at top speed.

“I met a friend of yours down the street.” Loreen announced.

“Friend? What friend-”

“Jasper.”

She froze at the name.

“Come again?”

“Jasper was here and he wanted me to pass on a message to you.” Loreen stated as-a-matter-of-factly and handed over the old map. She scrutinised her sister; watched as her face blanched before being replaced by red hot fury.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Adeline bellowed, crumpling the map into a tight little wall. “Where is he? Is he still out there now?!”

Loreen shrugged, trying to convey the message that she was just as clueless as the other was. “I’m sure he’s only just left.”

Adeline bolted out of the doors at once.

“Jasper!” She yelled like a lunatic, and searched frantically, not giving a fig what the neighbours would think. She had other pressing matters to be concerned of.

How dare he! How dare he approached her family, especially her innocent sister! He had already shattered her little peaceful life! That she could tolerate, and she supposed to some extent, she was reaping what she had sowed years ago. But preying on her young sister like that! He had no right! Absolutely no right! How dare he!

Hidden under the shades of the woods she took off in a blur, trying to locate the man. But the faint smell she caught whiff of indicated that he had long since been gone.

Still livid, she stomped her way back to the house.

First the flowers, then the book and now this map. Jasper; yes she was finally going to acknowledge this, that he was the same man she had met all those years ago, and that yes he was a fucking vampire now! And one with no fucking sense of boundaries! His message was clear and simple.

Don’t think that you’ve been forgotten. I know where you are and I will find you, whatever it takes. Or you can come to me, on your terms. You know where to find me.

She spread the crumpled map out.

Washington.

It was a state map of fucking Washington!

Like a flame being doused with ice cold water, she finally realised her mistake all those months ago. The hybrid child she had met in the clearing… That was how he had come to know of her. There was no doubt of it now. The child must have told her coven of their meeting, and either he was part of the coven, or he was on intimate terms with them. Either way, she had damned herself that day when she had decided not to trust her instincts to stay inland. And like dominoes, a little push had unknowingly caused the whole system to collapse on its own, the shockwaves continuing to reverberate in the aftermath of the disastrous meeting.

Adeline cursed and screamed in frustration.

Stupid! Stupid! She was so stupid! What was she to do now?! Engage? And she would be falling right into his laps without a fight. Run? But for how long? He had proven himself more than capable of tracking her somehow, it would be all for naught. He had a coven; and she had only her siblings. Siblings whom never got involved with her affairs, nor did she wish to involve into the mess. And especially not her youngest.

Frustrated, she flipped the map to find an actual written message penned in impeccable cursive handwriting. Which got her blood boiling immediately.

Do you have what it takes?

Self-righteous bastard! Well she’ll show him!

Adeline was in and out of the house in a flash, clothes changed. “Addie where are you going?” Loreen was by the door, obviously concerned.

“I’m going.” Her reply was short, clipped.

“At least wait for Anakin or Teddy.”

“No Loreen. I have to go. You’ll be fine on your own right?” Adeline tried to smile to relieve the tension, but evidently the tight-lipped smile only succeeded in agitating her sister more.

“I suppose yes. But-"

“Stay safe dear. I’ll see you in a bit.”

And she was out.

She refused to address her other concerns; like what did he want by actively seeking her out, or how did he even find her when she had made sure all her tracks were concealed? What did it mean for the two of them now that the other was all along alive and well? What would it entail for either parties from here on? What would father even do should he learn of this?

All of the what ifs and hows and whys were all overshadowed by her high-strung emotions. Her action was spurred into motion and further fulled by her fury at her former lover. Really, she lacked even a concrete plan of engagement which she seemed to be forgetting repeatedly in favour of the raging anger within her.

One she had not felt in years now.

*

“Are you sure she’ll come?” Edward asked.

“I’m sure.” Was Jasper’s curt reply, even if the doubt was weighing heavily down on his heart. He was back in Forks, back with his family where there was still some semblance of safety and control.

For nights, he had sat outside of Adeline’s little house in his car, just thinking and formulating, the best ways to engage her. He could knock on her door right then and there, and no doubt she would lose her shit, and everything would be fucked. Or he could catch her attention and lure her out back to where he felt safest, and should she decide to come along with then he would engage accordingly. At that time it felt like a decent plan, but now that he was home, the plan seemed stupid. Either way seemed like it would end pretty badly. In the end, he had made his escape early, had not stayed to see Adeline’s reaction at his subtle message. For fear of rejection, for fear of being unable to bear the disappointment.

He was such a coward.

And now he watched as his brother grimaced and frowned, clearly hesitating whether to speak his mind out or not, before finally making his mind up. “It’s just… are you sure about this?”

“About what?” Jasper said feigning ignorance.

“You’re taunting her.” Edward stared him straight in the eye, somewhat sternly. “Is this any way to court the girl you like?”

“Well, says the man who stalked his then classmate in her bedroom every night.” He shot back with barb, clearly annoyed.

Edward’s face soured and immediately stalked off the other way.

Offended.

Jasper sighed and ran a hand absentmindedly through his tangled hair, emotions all over the place. He knew he was an unwelcome presence in the house lately, practically vibrating off anxiety within a mile radius and affecting anyone within. It made the others nervous, stressed even. And everyone avoided him like the plague.

Bella and Edward had taken Renesmee to their little cottage so that the little one would not be affected. Carlisle had taken to working long hour shifts at the hospital and God knows where Rose and Emmett were.

And Alice... Alice was distancing herself from him.

She had taken to avoiding him, bluntly. She was never in the same room as he was. Had stopped being affectionate like she used to. Their interactions were reduced to light pats on his shoulder, fleeting hand touches, tight-lipped smiles that never quite reached her eyes. She was clearly hurting regardless of what she proclaimed. And to make matters worse, it was fracturing the family.

Emmett’s the-devil-may-care attitude can be reassuring, but Rosalie’s disdain at him was dully noted. Bella was torn and Edward was still suspicious of Adeline but somewhat more understanding of his predicament, although apparently he had just pissed off his last comrade. Carlisle and Esme were only concerned for the two of them, no doubt wanting the best for the pair of them.

And there was nothing he could do.

Alice had made the decision for the two of them.

But it tortured him as much as it killed her. She was the light in his pitiful life for years, his beacon in the dark night. She would never forgive him for all his betrayals just as he could never forgive himself for being the one to hurt her,

And now it pained him just as much to think of Adeline, of his plan to lure her out. He had known her like the back of his own hand then. Though what an irony that felt now. The one he had meant to share his life with, ended up being the one he had known the least.

While she can be sweet and lively, her temper seemed to have a mind of its own. And her heart always dominated in any decisions she made. She was open to persuasion, but would never bend to anyone’s will by force. Would react badly and lash out if forced.

And he had forced her hand.

Adeline would come, she must. Because if she did not, what then? He could go back to Alice and begged for her to take him back or he could continue hunting Adeline down, but then what? He could not force her into anything against her will, he would not. While he was no saint, he certainly was no monster to force himself onto her. She had only need to say the words, with steel in her resolve and he would begone as she requested, forever.

And should she have changed?

It had been more one and a half century since their parting, he had changed much. How did he expect her to remain the same? How did he expect her to remain steadfast in their love? Or its lack thereof?

He was torn between being content with simple ordinariness, or pursuing something more, something all encompassing and consuming, but also elusive which might end up being a gamble for nothing.

Either required him to make a blind leap of faith, though one was certainly more perilous than the other.

"I don't... I don't know what to do." He finally admitted aloud to Edward's retreating form, watched as the man turned to look back at him with narrowed eyes. "I have the choice... I have the choice to move on like she did, or I can continue to pursue her to the ends of the world, like some psychopathic stalker vampire..."

"But you don't want to be neither." Edward sighed sympathetically.

"No."

"And yet you don't want to let her go either."

"No, I don't either."

Jasper shot his brother a bittersweet smile before lapsing into silence. It felt embarrassing to tell Edward of his inner most thoughts, but at the same time there was something cathartic in finally sharing with someone what he thought.

"If there's anything I learnt from being with Bella," Edward said after a moment of thought. "It's that every relationship requires the investment of both parties. It's useless if she doesn't reciprocate your feeling."

Jasper quirked his lips ruefully. "Alice seems to think otherwise."

"Alice can't see the hybrid's future."

"No but I told her we might be soulmates."

"Well are you?"

"I don't know... I think so."

Jasper looked up to see Edward with a smug smirk aimed at him. "Well what do we have here? The cold and calculating Major Whitlock stumped for once because he's confused what to do with his lover-"

"Edward!" He protested loudly.

Ed laughed with mirth before holding up his hands in surrender. "I digress." Then his demeanor turned serious again. "Like I said, it requires two people to be in love. A soulmate bond doesn't automatically make her fall in love with you and vice versa. At the end of the day, it's just a bond. It ties the two of you together in this life, you can feel her, might even need her. But at the end of the day, it's for the both of you to decide if the both of you want to purse a more serious relationship, no?"

Jasper looked away, not wanting to meet his brother's intense gaze.

Had he considered what she wanted?

He loved her, still. But did she want him in the same way?

"I... tell me what I should do then?"

The proposition pained him physically and mentally and Jasper closed his eyes and swallowed harshly.

But Edward only looked at him with a tenderness and pity in his eyes.

"Do what's right, brother. Don't make it a regret of yours for eternity."

[langst-is-my-unborn-baby]

Not The Deku I Know

Part 1 of the Deku’s Disappearance Series

Bakugou suspects Midoriya of being someone entirely different, yet the rest of the class doesn’t believe him. Mixture of angst and crack.

Masterlist

Part 2   Part 3

Repost of my Ao3 work

His walk had not changed, nor had the way he styled his uniform. In all physical ways, Izuku Midoriya appeared exactly as he always had. With that scruffy green hair, and wide aloof eyes. But Bakugou had known that boy his entire life, and despite the disbelief of his peers, he was absolutely certain that thing was not the Deku he hated.

Bakugou is absolutely convinced Deku is not who he says he is, but some copycat sent to infiltrate UA. Pity he can't seem to convince anyone of his theory.

His walk had not changed, nor had the way he styled his uniform. In all physical ways, Izuku Midoriya appeared exactly as he always had. With that scruffy green hair, and wide aloof eyes. But Bakugou had known that boy his entire life, and despite the disbelief of his peers, he was absolutely certain that thing was not the Deku he hated.

When it began, he was unsure, the oddities began little over a week ago, when the boy had turned green at the very sight of the katsudon in front of him. That little shit had nonchalantly passes it over to Icyhot, Bakugou knew that boy lived for the cuisine. He had first swallowed his confusion, still fueled by dislike that he chose to believe Deku was being nothing but strange.

And yet, that behaviour continued.

Who ever that boy was, had not seen Deku’s confidence in hero-related questions. Arm straight to the air, a confident shout of an answer, and bashful pinkened cheeks at being correct. When the fuck had he started looking bored? Tapping against the wooden surface of the desk as he stared off, ignoring the countless opportunities to share his knowledge.

The dread that filled him when he monitored the boy brought a terrible ache to his head, an onboxious annoyance to his otherwise normal life. He wished to return to his normal hatred of Deku, but instead had warped for a murderous feeling whenever he layed eyes on what he was certain was an Izuku Midoriya clone. A clone that had wholeheartedly brainwashed the entirety of his class.

“Oh Bakubro, you are too paranoid,” Kirishima had laughed, finding more amusement in Bakugou’s understanding of stupid fucking Deku’s mannerisms. Shitty-hair had given an affectionate shove at his shoulder. “The novelty of UA must have worn off for him.”

How could novelty wear off on the used to be quirkless fuck?

Still, Bakugou had grunted with annoyance when more and more of classmates vouched on behalf of Midoriya. And as they had sat around the couch at the dorms, Raccoon Eyes had thought it was appropriate to wheeze and tell that copycat of his suspicions.

“Ah, Kacchan is suspicious of me,” the boy tittered, rubbing his neck as he watched Jirou cover her mouth in a chuckle. The fucker even had the audacity to look dumbstruck, stuttering out that stupid nickname. “I just had a stomach-ache that day,” that fake Izuku had said, as he was retold the story of his rejection of the katsudon.

“Shut up idiot!” Bakugou yelled, shoving a hand of explosions close to the fake. The boy did not even appear with the same scared look, although he doubted any of his classmates could pick this up, as they boredly rushed to the defence of the shivering boy.

“Kacchan!” He squirmed, shielding his face with his arms, knees bent to lower himself away from the aggressive assault Bakugou wished to strike him with. No tears had stung at Izuku’s eyes, not when he hounded him with vicious words, and nor when he embarrassed himself. Which too had begun to happen substantially less, less had he said something so stupid he would begin to splutter with ripe humiliation painting his face.

Dumb fucking Izuku clone must have thought Bakugou was some idiot. And that made his blood boil. It blackened his heart and pumped irate blood that stewed within his veins - fuelling him with a violent take on life.

The following day, again in class, that fucker had fiddled his thumbs as Aizawa provided a personal life lesson. Note taking was non-existent. The boy had instead let his gaze fall on the classroom clock, nodding his head to the rhythm of the hand that moved with the seconds.

Bakugou felt his jaw clamp shut, as he watched the students slowly fizzle out of the room as the class ended. This boy grinning widely at Round Face as he promised to meet her ahead at lunch. Aizawa already passing out the door.

“Deku,” Bakugou spat, snatching at the fake fucker’s elbow, dragging him back when the last of their classmates had gone. “What the fuck is going on, huh, you think I wouldn’t fucking notice?”

The boy searched his eyes, testing him. A soft smile blossoming across his features with a fragile nervousness. “Ah, I’m sorry Kacchan, are you still worried I am sick?” he chimed, his small little hand reaching to rest on Bakugou’s.

Sick? Had he not made his suspicions obvious? Oh, how he wanted to press his palm to that shit’s forehead and burn him with his quirk. The light paling of the fake’s skin nerved him, as this Izuku, shaped his expression to that of a little nauseous from Bakugou’s threatening grip. “You fucker,” Bakugou said, his chest beating with a dying hurt, letting Izuku’s hand pull off his own.

The air breathed heavy in the room, thick and suffocating, rolling in waves down Bakugou’s throat as Izuku Midoriya awkwardly waved him off. They were alone, Bakugou was openly suspicious, so why wont this fucker do something? They were alone, any villain in disguise could use this moment against him, reveal themselves and play a power move against the foolish student. Unsafe. This situation was so unsafe, but the student that held his concerns instead warmly shook away his actions. ‘Fight me,’ he wanted to yell, be at each other’s throats and acknowledge he was correct in all his beliefs about the boy.

Izuku, maybe Deku, made their way to the exit. That paleness of their cheeks fading away with every step, appearing more safe as they moved to their escape. Cold dread filled Bakugou, that feeling of wrongness swayed inside of him, pulling mockingly at his strings as it dangled him like an unwilling doll. Deku’s head lifted up, turning to face Bakugou as that known a smile came to stretch across his face, showing his loving nature in just one look.

He was wrong, he had to be, this was when a villain would have taken advantage. To brag with boastful arrogance as they would have fought against him. But this was apparently not a clone of Izuku Midoriya, here to taunt him and be a mole of the class. This was just plain Deku, convincing him otherwise.

“Goodbye,” he smiled, that comforting look as he tilted his head, addressing him. “Bakugou.”

Wait a fucking minute.

[untilspringdays]

Catalyst: Chapter 3 Fear

Summary:  You were the catalyst, the start of it all. They would have found each other eventually but you brought them together sooner, faster than expected. Then you vanished from their lives and they were determined to get you back.

Pairings: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Mafia AU | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Eventually)

Warnings (This chapter): Angst, Swearing, Panic, Almost Violence

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me! I really appreciate it! This chapter is a little longer than the others so hopefully that will make up for it! As of posting this, this chapter is unedited so please don’t mind the mistakes. I really really wanted to get it up for you guys. It will be edited tomorrow once I’m done with work so if you want to wait then feel free!

Word Count: 4.5k

Previous || Master List || Next

Taglist: @jooheonbee @s-noir @asifetch7 @i-am-a-teenage-dirtbaggg (Ask me if you would like to be added to the list!)

He didn’t know what Jimin was up too. He knew RM had noticed the 95’s disappearances as of late. He didn’t want to think that Jimin was betraying them, but usually he didn’t go out this much. There was also the fact that Jimin wasn’t assigned any task that would require him to go out. He knew that Jimin didn’t have to watch the arena anymore because Mason had returned not too long ago. It was very strange, and concerning.

He couldn’t bring this to RM without solid proof because if he did then Namjoon would have his head.This was Jimin after all, he was too close to all of them. They couldn’t put blame on him without something, but he couldn’t leave it alone either just in case something was going on. It hurt to think that Jimin was doing something behind their backs because of everything the seven of them had been through, but he just couldn’t leave it alone. To quell his rising concerns, he decided on following the other. For the safety of his brothers.

✦

You were irritated. Everything was irritating.

When you had agreed to let Jimin help you out you didn’t think that meant he would be showing up at your book store every other day. Not that he bothered you too much. He would ask a couple of questions and then would sit on his own computer for the rest of the time. After the book store closed he would walk you home without much of an exchange.

No. That wasn’t an issue. In fact you felt safe with him around, but at the same time since his appearance you had also become more paranoid.

You were back to checking over your shoulder every so often. Afraid of who might show up next, slightly afraid of any regular person that so happened to approach you when Jimin wasn’t around.

The fact that you were acting like this was very irritating. You had managed to take care of yourself just fine over the past couple of years without Park Jimin hanging around, so why were you so paranoid now? Was it the fact that Jimin was digging into a past wound? Was it the fact that you were finally facing the situation more so than normal? You didn’t know..

Needless to say your anxiety was through the roof. There were many times that you had to step away from customers to keep from snapping at them because of the way you were feeling. It was keeping you from doing your job..

One place you always felt safe with or without Jimin there was at the Underground arena. Mason’s property was always neutral. Or at least between Gangs it was. It was a place to make money, a place to show off skills, a place where the second any rivalry happened it was broken up by the owner himself in no time at all. No one crossed Mason, not in his own spot.

You let out a small sigh, trying to settle your anxiety for the millionth time that day of your shift. Your eyes shifting to the clock and then over to the gang member sitting at the table not too far from the front desk.

You could have left the store a little while ago. One of your co-worker’s was supposed to close the store today, but some gut feeling kept you rooted to your spot. Was it your anxiety? Most likely, but when you had a gut feeling, it was usually right.

Something was off but you couldn’t tell. You could feel the change coming but whether it was good or bad you weren’t quite sure.

You shifted in your chair again, causing Jimin to look up from his laptop. His dark gaze locking on you. He could tell you were uneasy. About what he didn’t quite understand. Everything was fine as far as he knew. Even if he didn’t have all of his usual equipment with him, he still made sure you were safe, that this store was safe, while also doing his research into your incident. Not that he found much.

It was disappointing to say the least. You didn’t have much to say about the incident other than a couple of details. He already knew the guy that had beaten you within an inch of your life. His name and records that Jimin had found were already copied and saved to a location that would be hard to gain access too. You said that you were attacked in your old home before your current one. The was in the center of BTS territory so for the order to come from another gang was slim to none. Plus no one really knew about you. Yeah you interacted with BTS but there wasn’t really in gang activity involved.

Of course there was the chance that the guy was a traitor but it wasn’t likely. The guy had done everything he could to prove his loyalty to BTS, even going as far as to limit his interaction with anyone that wasn’t BTS. It was a confusing puzzle to say the least. Jimin wouldn’t know for sure until he could ask the guy some questions, but that wouldn’t be until he woke up from the coma you had put him in.

A small growl escaped the man. There were too many holes, too many possibilities. He had too little information but he didn’t know where to find more. He didn’t want to ask his brothers just in case that it was one of them. There was only so much digging into their files he could do without seeming too suspicious, plus he doubted any attack on you would have been documented.

He closed his laptop harshly, startling you. Your gaze settling on him with a shocked look on your face that quickly disappeared as soon as you noticed that it was nothing to be concerned about.

He quickly put the computer into his bag before tossing the bag over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. I have been sitting here too long.”

Normally you would have cracked a joke about how he has been spending the last few weeks in the store with you, and that he was only getting sick of it now? But you couldn’t shake your gut feeling.

As he stepped up to your desk, heading for the door expecting you to follow, you called out.

“Jimin.. Wait just a second.”

He paused just in front of you, looking at you from the corner of his eye. An eyebrow raised in question.

“There.. I have a bad feeling. Something isn’t right.” You stated softly, watching the concern etch his features.

He didn’t want to brush it off, but at the same time this book store wasn’t the best place to protect you if something bad happened.

“I can take you to the arena if you feel unsafe. If something bad happens, then I’m right here.” He knew the area was safe. He checked it numerous times. He shifted slightly making sure his weapon was on him just in case.

You pondered it for a second still unsure about taking the chance. If you got to Mason’s you knew you would be safe, but on the other hand, what about all the in between time?

You silently scolded yourself for being afraid, for letting your anxiety get the better of you. You were an underground fighter for fuck’s sake. You beat people within an inch of their life on a regular. What were you so afraid of? Doing your best to shake off your concerns, you nodded in response to Jimin’s offer. Grabbing your bag you followed him out the door.

You muttered a soft “Thanks,” to Jimin as he held open the door for you. Your arms pulling your jacket tighter against you before crossing them in front of your chest. Now that you were outside, the bad feeling only grew.

You glanced back over your shoulder for a second, seeing nothing you continued on the familiar path to the arena. Jimin just a step behind you. The taller man remaining silent in his focus to make sure nothing bad was going to happen. Unconsciously you stepped closer to him, trying to replace your anxious feeling with the safety you usually felt in his presence, but that didn’t seem to work.

What was going on? Why were you feeling this way? You wanted the answer, a safe answer so you could get rid of this feeling.

You jumped slightly as you heard someone slip up their step from somewhere behind you. Was someone following you? You glanced back over your shoulder once again, but nothing was there.

You knew Jimin could sense your rising panic. “I think… I think there might be someone following us…” You stated softly.

You flinched as soon as Jimin wrapped his arm around you, but didn’t shy away as he pulled you closer. You knew he was trying to calm you down, and you appreciated the effort. “It’s alright. I’m keeping an ear out, it was just someone passing by. I’m trained for this, so just trust me.”

You wanted to, you really did, but your brain screamed at you to trust your gut. You breathed out a shaky sigh, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself, letting Jimin pull you closer.

He looked down at you for a moment before returning to the path in front of you. He hadn’t seen you so worked up since… Well since you allowed him to help you out, and that was only a few weeks ago.

You flinched at another sound. At this point you were afraid. Your strong nature had vanished just like that after your anxiety settled in and rooted itself firmly in your gut. You felt like you were going to be sick. You didn’t feel good at all. You wouldn’t be surprised if you actually were shaking but at this point, you couldn’t tell.

You hid further into Jimin’s side, trying to hide yourself away from the world. Everything was starting to overwhelm you at this point. It was getting to be too much. You just wanted to be at the arena and be safe.. Was that too much to ask?

You were about half way into the trip when things changed.

You knew that you were slowing the both of you down with your behavior, but Jimin didn’t complain once, doing his best to comfort you despite the situation. As soon as you stepped into the back alleys that lead to the arena, you could tell something was going to happen. The feeling weighed so heavily on you, and at this point Jimin could tell as well.

Suddenly you were spun around. A whimper escaping you in the process. You felt Jimin’s grip on you tighten, and the familiar click of a firearm. You didn’t want to look. You didn’t want to know who it was trying to screw with the two of you. Or if someone was trying to kill you again.

Then everything changed again. Once the area was filled with tension, everything seemed to relax. “Hobi?” You heard Jimin ask.

Oh no. Oh no oh no… Not again.

You were still getting used to having Jimin around and knowing you were alive. You couldn't take another one! You shuffled back trying to hide behind Jimin more, hoping that maybe the other bangtan boy wouldn't bother you, but you knew that was not going to happen.

Then your thoughts went to worse. What if it was him that ordered the hit? What if he was going to kill you for sure this time? You gripped tightly to Jimin's shirt. Your heart beating so fast because of the panic you thought for sure it was going to burst out of your chest.

“Who…?” Hobi asked not even needing to finish the question fully. There wasn’t anyone else around so it couldn’t possibly be about anyone else.

Jimin didn’t pay any mind to the question. He could tell how afraid you were. It was out of character for you but so in character at the same time.

“Were you following me?” He asked sharply. His tone sounding angry and impatient. If Hoseok needed something he would have simply called. This… this was something else and the implication pissed the younger off.

“Who is behind you Jimin?” Hoseok’s tone was now angry. He didn’t want to think but it looked like his fear was coming true. He had watched from afar. He knew that the person hiding behind Jimin was the book store keeper, but the fact that Jimin was taking them somewhere? Who exactly was this person and who did they work for? Why were they heading to what was considered neutral territory? He knew one thing for sure the store keeper wasn’t just a store keeper, and Jimin had some part in whatever this was.

Jimin flinched at the anger and authority in Hoseok’s tone. He didn’t want to give you away, especially not with what he was currently looking into but if Hoseok someone he was very close to was following him in thinking that he was going rogue then… He didn’t have much of a choice.

His right hand reached back grabbing your arm. He turned his head towards you, a small whisper of “Sorry..” coming out of his mouth. He didn’t know who he was going to choose if this situation went south. If Hoseok was the one that wanted you dead in the first place then he was just making this worse.

Nonononono NO! You felt yourself being pulled out from behind Jimin. You heard the silently sorry, but it didn’t help the feeling of betrayal rising through you. You knew it would come to this. He would sell you out.. And to think you had trust him.

You were pulled to Jimin’s side. Your face, hair, and visible scars all on display for the taller man that had been following the two of you. Your whole body trembled. Tears welling up in your eyes, thinking this was the end for you. Different pleas crossing through you mind, but fear kept your lips sealed. You didn’t want to go through that pain again! You didn’t want to die!

You were so caught up in your fear and panic that you hadn’t noticed Jimin’s hand still holding on to your arm. His thumb rubbing circles into your skin trying to comfort you, know there wasn’t much else he could do to help you.

You could feel Hoseok’s eyes on you, a harsh glare that felt like it was burning into your skin. Your mouth was open. Your breaths coming out in short bursts as you hyperventilated from your panic. You couldn’t really see his face through your tears. Did he recognize you? Was he glaring at you because you were still alive? You never felt this afraid since the first near death situation. Was BTS finally going to kill you?

Hoseok let out a frustrated sigh. “I know this is the shopkeeper, but role does she have to play? Are you betraying us?” He growled out the last part.

You felt Jimin’s grip tightened on you. As you remained silent by his side. Thoughts still racing from everything that was going on, missing the part were Hoseok said he didn’t recognize you. You could tell that Jimin was irritated by the fact they would even think he was betraying them. They knew him better than that even if he was one of the latest to join them.

“Look closely Hoseok.” Jimin growled out. “Look at her face. See the scars and the fear. See what we did to her.”

“What..?” Hoseok was taken aback by Jimin’s anger, and his willingness to talk back to his second in command.

“Look at her!” Jimin was shouting now. His anger that he so normally controlled was out in full force now. He pulled you in front of him so his brother could get a better look, but he held you close. Almost afraid if he let go you would slip through his fingers again.

“Someone we claimed was so important to us is now afraid of us!” It was Jimin’s turn to be worked up now.

He turned you around and pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry… I’m so so sorry..” He said quietly to you, as you just stood there loosely in his arms. His tight hold on you bringing you back to reality somewhat from your fears. You could feel his body shaking from the anger and the held back emotions that he didn’t show to you when the two of you reunited. Silent sobs escaping him.

He had been holding back the guilt, and the sadness of knowing it was one of them that chased you off. Something his brothers did that took you from them.. Took you from him, one of the most important people in his life. He didn’t want to lose you again. He couldn’t take it again.

You glanced back over your shoulder at the stunned man. Hoseok’s eyes were on the two of you but you could tell he was processing something, trying to figure out something. It was still the same look you remembered from back then. He always got that look when he was trying to piece something together.

You clung tightly to Jimin, the hug bringing as much relief to you as it was to him. It helped to calm you down and process the situation without fear being the main factor in running your mind.

You pulled away from Jimin, realizing what had been done and that it was something he needed to do. A moment ago you blamed him and berated him in your mind for selling you out for his own skin, which to an extent might have been true. But at the same time he didn’t let you go once, his arm or hand staying on you. He was trying to comfort you the whole time, trying to make this reunion go okay. He took a risk for you, a risk he wouldn’t take unless he thought it through.

Your body was still trembling but you could function much better now. Your hand came up to Jimin’s face, settling on his check as you nodded a simple reassurance that he could let you go. You glanced over to Hobi, who was now in utter shock, silently communicating you were going over to him. The fear that once was Hoseok being your attempted killer out the window.

Jimin’s hand overlapped yours for a moment as he gave a silent okay. He slipped your hand from his face before releasing you completely. He crossed his arms over his chest, a comfort for himself as you talked to his brother.

You walked over to Hobi, your legs still trembling causing you to stumble right into his hold. You looked up at him taking note of his dark eyes that were filled with grief. Did he actually miss you that much?

“Is it really you? Is it really my little muffin?” He asked, his hands holding your face as he got a better look at you.

You placed your hand on top of one of his, just like Jimin did with you a moment ago. You leaned into his touch slightly, coming to realize over this long amount of time you missed him a lot. Just like you missed Jimin.

A soft sad smile crossed your features at the nickname. “Yes it is me.”

“What.. What happened to you? What did Jimin mean by we did that to you?” As he spoke the words the thumb of his free hand traced over one of the scars on your face.

You let out a small sigh. As best as you could you looked over at Jimin. He seemed caught up in his own thoughts. The guilt and sadness still clear on his face. He was far away from the world right now. He was probably going over stuff in his head now that it seemed clear that Hoseok wasn’t the one that drove you away.

From Jimin’s actions, you deemed it safe enough to tell the story. “I… I was attacked in my apartment Hobi.. One of the BTS members attacked me and almost killed me but I escaped.. And one of you seven ordered it..”

You watched as different emotions flicked over his features. The second in command processing the information trying to come up with something else that could be the truth, that told him one of his brothers didn’t attempt to have you killed. Something he didn’t want to believe. You were too important to all of them, but at the same time they didn’t clear anything with each other either when it came to you. They never wanted to get you involved in anything when it came to the darker side of their business.

“I know you don’t believe it..” You whispered softly. “You don’t have too. Jimin didn’t either but he wanted answers so he has been looking into it for me.” Jimin was out of his thoughts from the sound of his name. He stepped closer to the both of you.

“I haven’t really found anything, but you see how scared she was.. She was afraid of me too.. She never acted like that even after we told her what we did. So her story has to be true.” Jimin stated. His hand coming to rest on the older’s shoulder.

Hobi shook his head. Stepping back away from the two of you. He crossed his arms in thought. “If… I don’t want to believe one of us would do that to you. We all cared for you.. There has to be more there than what is being said..”

“That is what I’m trying to find out.” Jimin responded. “Believe me it’s hard doing it on our own, but I need answers..” He ran his hand through his brown hair. “I couldn’t turn to any of you for help because what if she is right? What if one of our brothers ordered the attack?”

He didn’t want to think it was true, but he had no way of knowing. He only had your statement on what happened. None of the others ever said anything. What was shared was the news of your death, all of them grieving the fact, and moving on eventually. None of the four others seemed guilty but what was true in the end was you were afraid of them. All of them. So something did happen. Either they did it, or they were framed. Nothing added up to him.

You stood by watching Hoseok’s face for any bad reaction. Anything that would put you in danger. One of your hands messing with the sleeve of your jacket out of nervousness. An exit plan involuntarily mapped out in your head just in case you needed it. You had already deemed Hoseok to be safe from the way he reacted but your gut wouldn’t let you settle. You had to keep yourself safe, no matter the situation. No matter if you had some trust in the two before you.

“Hobi…” You said softly, calling his attention to you. “You can’t.. You can’t tell anyone else about me being alive.. Please.. Not until Jimin can get some more information.” You were timid and afraid of him still, afraid of them all. Hoseok had a reason to not be as accepting of your story as Jimin was. Hobi knew the others longer than he knew you, so you didn’t blame him for doubting.

“I..” He started rubbing his hand over his mouth for a second as he pondered on it for a moment. “Fine.. I don’t like keeping secrets from anyone especially RM, but I can do it just this one for you my little muffin.” Even if the rest of his words sounded cold, you could still hear the affection in the old nickname he had for you. Did he never move on? You became slightly flustered at the thought.

You nodded, a soft “Thank you,” escaping you. You were relieved to say the least, though if another one of the seven found you, how much longer would it be before someone else showed up? The chances of you running into the person who wanted you dead was getting larger, and it scared you. It scared you so much.

“How about we head somewhere else and we can catch up, yeah? I might be able to provide some input on your search for answers.” Hoseok said, his usual relaxed and bright demeanor returning to him.

Jimin looked over to you, waiting on you to answer. He wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want to, and he knew that Mason’s Arena was just a moment away, the only place you felt truly safe.

You stiffened. You had already been through a lot today. The panic from earlier certainly took a toll on you both mentally and physically, but you didn’t want to turn down a chance for more details, or a possible answer to your whole situation.

Eventually you relented, giving in to his suggestion and the good you might get out of it despite the rollercoaster of a day you just had. You were going to trade safety to satisfy your curiousity.

“We can go to my apartment.. It’s not too far. This one is safer than the other.” You mentioned. Mason had given this one to you to keep you close to the arena, as well as to keep you safe after you had asked for a safe place to stay. He was a kind man even if he never liked to show it.

“Please don’t randomly show up after you leave though.. I don’t need anymore attention than I already get.” You said knowing the opposite was going to happen, but it was worth a shot anyway. Jimin already showed up often to your book store so it would be a surprise if he started showing up to your house.

You nodded your head in the direction of your building, guiding the two of the BTS members there. While you had remained silently the two began bickering over the fact that Hobi had followed Jimin in the first place. Jimin getting irritated that Hobi would ever think that he would betray them. You heard a noise, and glanced back to see that Jimin had hit Hoseok for even thinking that way. A whine coming from the older one. A small smile was on your features before you even realized. It was good to see them acting that way again. It had been such a long time. Hopefully this trip wouldn’t be a waste and you could get something, even if it was a small detail, out of it.

You had accepted a while ago you would never get an answer to what happened, but now pieces were falling back into place, curiosity eating at you once again. You were getting your friends back, but would it be worth the potential answer that could harm them all?

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Protect My Heart: Part 8

Fandom: Marvel (Bodyguard AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re an actress and after an assassination attempt on your life, your manager hires a bodyguard that will be with you 24/7.

A/N: For @buckthegrump ‘s writing challenge.

SMACK!

Bucky stared at you wide-eyed after your palm came in contact with his cheek. You were upset. Pissed. Angry. Seething. And, quite frankly, Bucky didn’t know why. You should be scared! Your boyfriend of three months is out to kill you!

“I can’t believe you would make up some lie to stop me from going away with Brock!”

“Y/N-”

“No, Bucky! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of you being so irrational and overbearing and overprotective and paranoid! I’m sick of you having to do a background check on every single one of my friends! I’m sick that you keep coming up with these lies and excuses to get me to break up with Brock! I love him, Bucky!”

Bucky’s breath was stolen from his lungs and not in a good way, “Y/N, you’ve only known him for three-”

“I don’t care, Bucky. The way I feel for him, I-I’ve never felt this way before. Never. I know it’s too soon, but I love him. I can’t-won’t leave him, Bucky. He loves me too. I know he does.” 

Well shit. Things got a lot more complicated. 

He let out a deep breath, trying to appear as calm as possible, “Y/N, I promise you, on my life, I know what I heard.”

“Do you have proof?”

He looked at you confused, “What? No, why would I have proof? And it’s not like you can just ask him upfront if he’s going to murder you!” he took another deep breath. Take it easy, Barnes. Nat warned you about your temper, “Y/N, you’re my friend and I care about you. Yes, I’ve been an overbearing dick and sometimes I can be unreasonable, but please, please, Y/N. Listen to me this one time. You can’t go with Brock. You can’t be anywhere near him. He’s dangerous.”

You looked into Bucky’s eyes and saw how much fear and desperation in them. You could hear in his voice the genuine worry and concern he had for you. He had to be telling the truth. 

“Okay,” you breathed out.

“Okay?”

You nodded, “Okay. But what do I do? If I break up with him now, it’ll seem too suspicious. Everything’s been going great between us and breaking up with him would be too out of the blue.”

Bucky bit his lip, hesitating on an idea that came to mind, “I have an idea. You might not really like it though.”

You and Bucky walked down the street. His hair was in a bun at the nape of his neck and sunglasses on his face. You wore your own sunglasses and a baseball hat. Your arm was hooked around Bucky’s. You heard a screech of tires and the slamming of a van door. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!” two paparazzi yelled as they pointed their cameras at you, “Y/N! Is this your new boyfriend?”

“What happened to the other guy?!”

“Are you cheating on your current boyfriend with this guy?!”

You were mentally cursing the paparazzi. They really had no shame. And no filter, it seems. 

“Hey, dude! What’s your name? Can you tell us your name?!”

“What’s your relation to Y/N L/N?!”

The next day, Steve drops a stack of tabloids onto your coffee table. Pictures of you and Bucky plastered on the front. 

Y/N L/N WITH NEW BEAU?!

Was the headline on one of them. 

“Jesus, they work fast,” Bucky grumbled, picking up one of the magazines. He flipped through it to find the article of him and Y/N. He cleared his throat and began to read, “Y/N L/N seems to be cozying up with her bodyguard and new beau, James Barnes. Barnes is a former Army veteran and currently works for Tony Stark’s security company. He has worked security detail for many politicians around the world. Sources say he’s the best at what he does, including stealing the heart of the breakout star.”

“I’m so uncomfortable right now,” you mumbled with a cringe and Bucky continued you.

“We thought L/N was still dating Brock Rumlow, a man who works for the rival company of Stark’s, Anvil. Is Barnes swooping in for a little payback? Well, we talked with Rumlow ourselves and he says that him and Y/N are still very much dating and very much happy. Are you sure about that, Brock?” he closes the magazine and tosses it back onto the table. 

“Well, that explains why Brock texted me late last night about wanting to talk,” you muttered.

And Bucky straightened up, “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “He texted me when I was asleep, Bucky. I saw it when I woke up and I didn’t have time to tell you because I was bombarded with this,” you said all too aggressively, “He wants to meet at Crossroads Cafe.”

Bucky winced, “Right. Sorry. I, uh, if you’re meeting him, then I think Hope should accompany you. She’s good at undercover work.”

“Alright,” You looked at the time on your phone, “I have to meet him in two hours. I’m gonna start getting ready.”

You walked past Bucky and Steve, heading up the stairs to your bedroom. Hope, Sam, and Nat were all up against the wall, listening and watching. 

Steve sighed, plopping down onto the couch beside Bucky, “You sure you know what you’re doing, pal?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure. If it looks like Y/N and I are starting to become closer than just friends, then it’ll make Rumlow doubt her feelings for him.”

“And your plans for Y/N meeting Rumlow today?”

“I’ll think of something, Steve. Don’t worry. I’m keepin’ her safe, just like I promised.”

Sam snorted, “That and more,” which earned him a slap on the arm from Hope, “Ow! What the-”

“You like her, don’t you?” Steve asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Bucky shrugged, “Even if I did, and I’m saying I do, but if I did, she wouldn’t feel the same. She says we’re friends, but I know she’s just bein’ nice. All I’ve ever been to her was an asshole, Steve. She can’t possibly like me.”

“Well, pretending or not, you two make a better couple than her and Rumlow. You two look a lot more natural together.” he gave his old friend a pat on the shoulder and stood up to leave. 

Bucky stood, following him to the door, walking him out, “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Hypothetically speaking, if I did like Y/N, should I tell her? I mean, after all this stuff with Rumlow is over?”

Steve chuckled to himself, give his head a slight shake, “Hypothetically speaking, if you did like Y/N, yes, you should tell her. But when it seems like the right time to you.”

“Right. Got it. Thanks,” he gave his old friend a grateful smile.

Steve gave him a salute, “Anytime, Buck,” and slipped into his car, driving away moments later. 

When Bucky turned around, he jumped, “Jesus on a fucking stick!” Nat stood there before him, arms crossed over her chest and her signature smirk on her mouth.

“I don’t like this idea. Someone’s gonna get hurt, Bucky, and I don’t mean physically.”

“It was the only thing I could come up with Nat,” he grumbled as he made his way back inside your house. 

“You’re playing with emotions here. You know that’s never a good thing when it comes to our line of work.”

“I know,” he gritted out, “But I’ll handle it. I promise.” Despite his words, Nat and himself knew that he had no fucking clue how he was going to handle it, or you, or his feelings for you.

Protect My Heart Taglist (CLOSED): @badassbaker @mrsdaamneron @avengersbabe13@hiddles-rose @denimandcabernet @courtmr @bitchwhytho@thebookwormslytherin @emilysallysmith @partiallyinthecloset@randomfandompenguin @thefridgeismybestie @wellfucksorrymum@moonlightbae14 @feelmyroarrrr @chewymoustachio @doctoranon@winchesterandpie @myawkwardnessisshowing @aletheladyinred @lilbit-ofsunlight @hennessy0274-blog @farfromjustordinary @msanimeotaku181 @evilzinblr @desibarnes @usernamemingmei @ravenshadowsoldier@viarogers @ediblemurderer @mavelfanatic @justrepostandlove

[bleached-d-soul]

Going Rogue

The 20$ commission for none other than @the-wayward-arc featuring one of my favorite crack ships in RWBY

Length: 10, 058

Remnant was the land of miracles and nightmares. On the one hand, you had Aura, Semblances and Dust. On the other hand, you had the Grimm of all forms, shapes and sizes. With the threat of hordes of creatures of horror, everyone was forced to one day make a choice. The choice of how you would survive. Do you put your faith in strength? Do you pray your feet can carry far enough? Or do you build walls and fences and hide behind them?

The Branwen Tribe had mastered all three. And that is why they survived for so long. Since the days when the Moon above was whole, the Branwens were the survivors. Vernal had no illusions about her tribe. As much as some Mistralian poets and Atlesian pseudo-rebel brats loved to glorify the bandits, Vernal never forgot what the Tribe were and what they were not.

They weren't some roguish heroes that stole from the rich and gave to the poor. They weren't free spirits out to live lives, unlimited by social conventions and norms. They didn't spean days talking philosophy or playing music as everyone laughed around the fire. No, all that shit belonged only in the books of some sappy bitch who would wail one day in their life.

Branwens were the survivors. And surviving was not pretty.

They stole from those weaker than themselves and ran when facing someone stronger. They raided villages and towns, taking whatever food and supplies the people there had before leaving them to die of sickness and starvation. And some of their own fell? They would spend one night drinking and mourning at best before splitting the valuables of that person among themselves.

Their life wasn't pretty. But it was the only life she knew and had.

In the tribe, everyone had a role to play and the weight to carry. Those who weren't strong or vicious enough to fight had to accept their role as the lowest on the totem pole, only occasional captives were given rougher treatment. Having been born into the tribe, Vernal felt it on her own skin what it meant to be the weakest. And she promised to never find herself in that position again.

She trained to be strong. And she worked to be useful. She made one sacrifice after another, all for the sake of the tribe. So that she wouldn't be left behind. So that she never became a burden to be discarded.

And now here she was, taking one for the tribe again.

"Are you comfortable?" the woman's silky voice slithered around Vernal's ears like worms. "You seem stressed."

Raven was strong. Their tribe wasn't much, relying far more on their target's weakness and sheer numbers, but Raven was strong. Strong enough to take on this bitch and her two little sycophants. Strong enough to tear the three to shreds and not even break a sweat. Raven could kill them.

But she didn't. Which only meant that whoever was behind Cinder Fall was someone even Raven feared. Feared enough to not even try to escape. Whoever this person - or creature at that - was, if Raven feared them, then Vernal knew better than challenge them. It was just how the survivors lived, kill and use those weaker than you. And, in turn, be used by those stronger than you.

"Not used to flying, that's all," Vernal grunted out. It was a shameful thing to admit, especially to some outsiders. But having spent her whole life on the ground, she never realized just how much she hated the air. "How long do we have to go?"

How much longer did she need to play along, was left unsaid. Cinder told her that they would be in Vale in an hour at most. The green brat and her cripple of a friend were already waiting for them at some hotel on the outskirts of the city, ready to do whatever their little owner told them to.

"I am sure Raven appreciates what you are doing for her," Cinder smiled, not bothering to hide her pleasure at getting her way. "Once we are done with the mission, your tribe will be granted full safety and protection from our Mistress."

Vernal knew it was all bullshit. She herself had given such promises before to so many suckers and stabbed them in the back all the same. She knew it was a pile of crap but didn't call the woman out on it. And so, with nods and half-hearted agreements, Vernal forced herself to swallow the shit Cinder was feeding her. After all, what would she do after calling the woman out?

What even could she do? In the end, every choice she could make would lead to her death. The only chance at survival Vernal had laid in her trusting herself to stay alive and praying for Raven to come up with something.

As the two got off the plane. As they picked up their luggage, one of the employees smiled at Vernal, "Welcome to Vale! Hope you will enjoy your stay here."

Somehow, Vernal doubted she would.

VA

When Vernal was seven, she took the diary from the village they raided. The owner - whom Vernal assumed was a woman by how neat and honeyed was her writing - used to study in one of the bigger cities and wrote all the details about how exciting her school years were. At first, the little Vernal used to dream of living the same life. The life where she wasn't forced to pick up other people's trash and do back-breaking chores for scraps of food.

It was a nice little dream, one that she cherished for years. Her safe room where she could escape after getting shit beaten out of her for doing something wrong or just for the laughs of some creep. Those dreams used to keep her warm at night.

But that was before she realized how foolish that dream was. She was a bandit. A damn good one too. What would she do if she ever came to attend some fancy school in the city? Drink tea and eat cookies all the while gossiping about some stupid stuff? Lose her sleep over some silly crush?

Ever since her first kill, Vernal hated her childhood dream with all the venom and spite one could have.

And now here she was, in the hall of the school, just like she thought she would hate.

The first night at Beacon is everything Vernal feared it would be and more. After listening to Ozpin talk about the duty and responsibility of huntsmen and huntresses - y'know other than dying like a bunch of morons to buy other idiots a couple more days - they were locked in one room. And boy, did Vernal wish she could kill them all and be done with it. Seriously, if Cinder wanted the damn comatose girl, why not just come here with her army and kill everyone?

That would make taking Amber or whoever so much easier.

No matter where she looked, she found something or someone to loathe this place even more for. The girls who kept giggling and chatting as if they were having some sleepover. And guys who were trying to show off their physiques. Granted, some of them were quite well-built but what did it matter when facing against a Grimm? Unless you knew how to use all that muscle, you were just making a bigger meal for some lucky Grimm out there.

At least, she was spared hanging around Cinder and her posse. The Fall Maiden wanted them to spend the night apart, as a precaution in case Ozpin found the four students becoming a team so smoothly all too suspicious. Paranoid but Vernal couldn't care less. She would enjoy whatever peace she could get.

Her peace didn't last for long.

"Stop stalking me!"

"I am just trying to be friendly! Why do you have to be so crabby?"

Quarrels and yelling weren't uncommon in the tribe. Honestly, every day some morons found a new reason to start trouble with each other. Someone stealing another guy's drink. Or some bitch banging someone else's man. The everyday trouble was the kind of trouble you got when placing every arrogant and self-centered piece of crap into one family where the only law was the law of the blade.

The fights between their own weren't uncommon and, in fact, somewhat encouraged by Raven.

But these two were nothing like that.

With the mixture of amusement and annoyance underneath her skin, Vernal watched two girls - both looking too young to even be here - argue over a vial of Dust. She quickly recognized the Schnee heiress and entertained the thought of stealing her wallet at some point in time in the future. Vernal briefly toyed with the idea of buying tons of sex toys for with whatever card the heiress had.

And then she saw him.

Tall, blonde and wearing the dumbest choice of sleepwear she had ever seen. He wasn't too bad on the eyes, if looking more like an errand boy than an aspiring huntsman. A couple of girls giggled as they watched him pass with guys laughing at him. And honestly would you blame them?

What kind of idiot wears baby blue pajamas? Let alone in front of everyone? If the boy's intent was to ensure he wouldn't get any till the graduation, then he did a fucking great job at it. Still, at least, he managed to make her laugh if not knowing that himself.

"Bold choice, blondie," she heckled, getting a few laughs out of the people nearby. The boy blushed in embarrassment but stopped and turned to her. Stupid, honestly. Should've walked away faster. "Got something to say?"

She kind of wants him to start trouble. To give her an excuse to vent out her frustration. Instead of hissing or glaring, the boy looks more embarrassed than anything and mumbles, "I like it, that's all. It's really comfortable."

"I bet the others think it is," she chuckles as the blondie briefly looks around the room. His face grows even redder as some girls whistle at him in a mocking fashion. She almost feels sorry for the idiot, he really should've left when he had the chance to.

"Eh, I can deal with it," the boy shrugs, though failing to play it cool. "Not the first time someone laughed at it."

She didn't have trouble believing that for obvious reasons. "Pretty confident in yourself, huh?"

"I like to think I am," the boy smiles before sitting down by her side. Vernal raises an eyebrow but the boy seems unfazed by her seeming lack of amusement. With the same goofy mile, he extends his hand, "Jaune Arc. Short sweet, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it."

"Are those ladies your mom and sisters?"

"Yup, mom and all seven of my sisters."

"Seven?" Vernal does a double take before looking the boy up and down in search of the clue at him joking. Nope, he is not shitting her. He is absolutely serious. "Wow, your parents are rabbit faunus or something?"

Some girl with black bow glares daggers at her and actually hisses. Eh, she would deal with her later. "Er, no, I don't think so. They just really love each other and-"

"They are pretty loud about it, right?" Vernal grins as the blondie blushes deep red again, no doubt reliving the moment he caught his mommy and daddy fucking. "Having some repressed memories? I wonder what was the weirdest place you saw them do it?"

"Okay, let's change the subject! Please?"the boy raised his hands in a plea. Alright, she was done with the joke. No need to come across as some sex-starved deviant. "So what's your name?"

"Vernal Wennbar," she said offhandedly. "Simple and memorable. The people whose villages I pillage and burn don't remember it though."

She is kind of disappointed when the boy takes it as a joke and laughs. As much as the conversation amused her, she was getting tired by the Mr Sunshine here. After a few seconds of laughter, Arc sighs and looks at the room with the weird longing expression, "Man, I can't believe that I am finally here."

"Let me guess, your parents are huntsmen as well?"

"I wish," Arc scoffs in annoyance. "Maybe then dad would actually let me come here."

The boy instantly freezes as the realization of what he just said hits him. To someone like him, a boy who never knew how cruel the world could be, running away was probably the peak of the debauchery. DId he expect her to be impressed or horrified? As if. Running away from your parents' home was about as petty as stealing candy as far as Vernal was concerned, "No worries, I am not ratting you out to anyone."

Seriously, who could she even rat him out to? And if she had someone, why would she do that? This was his life and his mess. Still, Arc thanks her with genuine smile, "Thank you, Vernal. I owe you one."

And just like that, the two kept up the small conversation. Bits and pieces of what they did prior to coming here, with Vernal lying at each and every step. Not that she expected Arc to be able to do anything even if she told the truth. But he looked like the kind of moron who could let it slip that she came from the tribe of bandits around the teachers.

And so she told a tale of poor little her who grew up on the streets, harsh and cold. How she was saved by the powerful huntress and now wished to be one to help people. And hey, other than the part about helping people, she was almost honest about her life.

As the time to sleep came closer, the blondie wished her luck on tomorrow's test. Cute if she needed it. She wished him the same, though not on passing the exam.

But simply not dying too painfully.

VA

"Now remember, you need to be on the same team. Roman will supply you with the proper communication equipment but you still need to be careful. Who knows where Ozpin might have installed surveillance. The last thing we need is him suspecting the new team of collaborating prior to the exam."

Keep your head down. Don't give away your powers. Blend in. Those were easy enough instructions even if given in annoyingly condescending tone by the Fall. All she had left to do was make sure she ended up partner with one of her little lackeys and she could get over the damn test.

The Grimm here were pretty weak as well. A few Beowulves and Ursas with big ones like Nevermore or Deathstalker few and far between, and even those were half the size of what a healthy Grimm should be. Her guess was the teachers controlling their numbers by routinely exterminating stronger ones. A dumb thing to do, really.

If their applicants couldn't handle a couple of stronger Grimm, then what good would academy do them? Weak should just stay in the line and not get in the way of the Strong. Weak died. Weak suffered. Weak begged for mercy and cried for help.

"Help! Somebody help!"

Case in point. Now where did that noise come from? She looked behind and saw nobody. From the right then? From the left?

"I am stuck up here!"

Vernal looked above and did double take. After she rubbed her eyes, the sight before her didn't change. It was the same blonde from yesterday. Impaled to the tree by someone's spear. Jeez, whom did he piss off that much that they tried to off him during the exam? Not to mention so dumbly. Seriously, if you wanted to kill Arc off, you could at least try and make it look like a Grimm attack.

Oh well, not her kill to steal. Before she could properly leave, Arc noticed her, much to her chagrin.

"Oh hey, Vernal!" He waved and smiled even though he looked deathly pale. "Uh, could you please help me get down? I think someone accidentally threw their spear at me and now I can't get down. I am not very good with heights so..."

Vernal barely suppressed the urge to throw a pebble at the guy. What was he doing here at the huntsmen academy in the first place if he couldn't even get down from the tree? It was so pathetic it was almost funny. Like watching a cat stuck on a tree. Or some moron with his head between the bars.

"If you need help getting down from there, you might as well quit the exam," Vernal said, enjoying how the boy flinched at her words. "Seriously, if you can't handle some heights, then how are you going to handle the hordes of Grimm?"

"Oh come on, is there nothing you can do at all? Come on, you aren't going to leave me hanging up here like that, right?"

It was almost amusing how wrong he was. She left much many more of much better people to much worse fates. Then again, if he made her a good enough offer, she just might consider helping him out, "What do I get out of it?"

"W-Well, I am pretty good with cooking and massages," at her raised eyebrow, Arc scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "Living with seven sisters will do that to you. You won't believe how many times I had to make up for my mess by giving them a good foot rub."

Hmm, that did sound tempting. But she could always get a professional for it. "Sorry, but if you can't offer anything better, I think I best leave you to your own-"

"I can get you a fake ID!" Arc blurted out in panic. Now if that wasn't interesting. "If, uh, if you help me get down, I can get you the fake ID. For buying drinks and getting into clubs and other stuff like that."

Well, well, it seems it was always the quiet ones. "How good are you at making those? Cause I can tell bad forgery from proper one, you know."

Arc looked uncomfortable as he sighed, "I am pretty good at it. Criminally good, you might say."

"Then you got yourself a deal,"

With a smirk, she released her weapons.

"Thank you!" Arc smiled brightly. Though that smile waned as he saw her approach the trunk of three with the savage grin. "Wait,what are you-Aah!"

The bark didn't even make the sound as she cut through it in one swift motion. The blonde did though, letting out the girliest cry Vernal had the displeasure hearing. With a loud crash, he groaned on the ground. "Ow... I think my arm is broken."

"Your Aura will heal it."

The boy looked at her as if she had just grown a second head.

"What is Aura?"

Was he fucking serious? "Are you fucking serious? Are you telling me that you are trying out for the Beacon Academy to fight Grimm and you don't even know what Aura is?"

"I, uh, was kind of planning to learn it later? You know, catch up on all the material once the semester starts and all."

Catch up on all the...

"You have no idea what Aura is, do you?"

The boy deflated, "No..."

"Great," for a moment, Vernal considered leaving the idiot alone in the woods for Grimm to eat. It was only right, after all. The idiot brought it on himself by coming here unprepared. And hey, maybe some meat would placate the other Grimm around and make it even easier for her to kill them.

But if he died right now, then she would be losing her fake ID maker. And while she didn't doubt the Fire Bitch could help her get one, Vernal was sure she wouldn't get her one. Alcohol makes you sloppy. Alcohol distracts you from the mission. And more of the same dumb garbage she didn't need listening to. Not to mention that if she was given one, those little lapdogs would follow her all the way to every good drinbking spot.

With a sigh and thoughts of quiet pleasant drink in mind, Vernal motioned for Arc to come closer, "Come over here. Before I change my mind."

He did as told, trusting her entirely. Seriously, who was this guy? He was too weak to be a huntsman. Hell, he trusted her - a random stranger who cut down the tree he was stuck to - as if they had known each other for years. For all he knew, she could just stab him and take whatever was of value on him.

Which she had done already. Many times.

And yet he didn't run or even look suspicious of her. Ah, she had no time for that. Better be done with him and move, "What are you going to do? Why is your hand glowing?"

"Just shut up and let me do it," Vernal snapped at him. The boy fell silent. The bandit took a deep breath as she placed her palm on his chest, letting her Aura flow free into the boy and find its way to his own. "For it is in our power that we achieve freedom. Through this, we become juggernauts who know no restraint. Free from laws and untamed by nobody, I release your soul and by my hand empower thee."

She could feel the momentary rush - the feeling of sharing her Aura with another and forcing it open. She felt slightly winded, both annoyed and impressed at how large his Aura reserves actually were. Well, her work was done here. With those reserves, he should be good enough to last until the teachers arrived to save him if something went wrong.

"So long, blondie," she said as she headed off in her own direction. "Try not to die too fast."

"Wait, aren't we partners now?" Arc asked awkwardly. "I mean-"

Partners... Yeah, right. "Oh just shove it, will ya?" Vernal scoffed. "You already owe me two favors. Don't go pushing your luck."

Just as she left, she heard someone else call out for him. Vernal didn't look, of course. She already helped that moron enough. Not that Aura would help him once Fall brought the whole place down. Helping out the weak wouldn't them any favor in the long run.

She just wanted to get whatever was worth out her deal with him.

VA

Days passed by and their team - appropriately named Venom (VENM) even if the Headmaster didn't know - was about as close as four strangers pushed together could be. Unlike many of the other teens though, there wasn't any real attempt to bond. And honestly what could they bond over?

Their kill counts? Favorite types of knives and guns? Their top ten ways to kill someone? Vernal just knew that it was much better to just put up some distance between each other. Mercury and Emerald would hang out with each other. That Neo girl would do... whatever it is she did when they weren't watching.

And Vernal would enjoy her lunch by herself. At least, the food here was decent enough. As much as it sucked she couldn't get any booze here, at least, they served some decent meat and fruit as well as some sweets. The latter of which they didn't keep around in the tribe.

Pancakes and waffles were, in particular, the rare treats around her home. She reached for the last plate standing when someone else grabbed it out of her reach. Well, this was looking like a good day already.

"Sorry, you snooze you lose~" the girl with ginger head and sickeningly sweet voice said in a sing-song tone as she made away with her pancakes. Heh, if it wasn't for the girl's love of frilly and pink, they might have gotten along. After all, pancakes, as everything else, belonged to those who got them first.

And who was strong enough to hold onto them.

"What the- Woah!"

The girl slipped and fell, her tray flying up with everything else. Eggs, bacon and juice all spilled all over the floor. And only the plate of flapjacks were safe, carefully snatched by Vernal. Her Semblance was usually for combat only. But who would judge her for that?

"Oh my God, Nora! Are you okay?"

Vernal didn't even make three steps away from the mess when she heard a familiar voice. As she sat down at the nearest empty table she watched as the three other students surrounded the gingerhead. A redheaded tall girl. A boy with pink strand of hair. And the blonde she kind of assumed was dead by now.

So they were a team, huh.

To her credit, the girl, now identified as Nora, didn't make much of a fuss about her clothes or hair as Vernal expected. She looked positively nonchalant until her eyes caught something missing among the pile of food. Eyes suddenly narrow and sharp, the girl looked around the room until her eyes zeroed in on Vernal.

Specifically, her plate of pancakes.

Vernal smirked as she slowly cut a piece of thick cooked dough, covered in honey and sprinkled with berries. Just as slowly she brought it to her mouth without breaking an eye contact with the girl. Their eyes locked, Vernal bit into the treat, making sure to show the gingerhead just how much she enjoyed it. The quickly growing scandalous look on the girl's face made the already sweet treat so much more delicious.

You know what, maybe the breakfast was a great time to be petty.

"You thief!"

With the impressive speed, the girl was in her face, an accusing finger pointing in her face. Under the scrutinizing gaze, Vernal saw no other option than take another slow bite and say, in a mocking imitation of the girl's voice, "Sorry, you snooze you lose~"

"Why you..." The girl looked positively murderous, ready to get into a fight. Great, just what she needed. And hey, whatever happened to it would in self-defense so she could go pretty much all out. "Rennie?"

Or would have, if her boyfriend didn't step in. Along with the two other people. "Come on, Nora. You may have mine if you want."

"Eh, but yours are never as sweet as I like them," Nora whined. "Can I have Jaune's instead?"

"Hey, I never agreed to that!" Arc protested. Only to fold in when the brunette gave him the look that said it all: his pancakes were no longer his and he had to deal with it. "Oh, alright alright. I'll just double down on the cereal then. Oh hey, Vernal!"

"Hello, Jaune," Vernal greeted him in return. "I see you aren't dead. Congrats, I guess."

Arc laughs awkwardly, probably thinking her words were a joke instead of genuine surprise. "Thanks, Vernal. I couldn't do it without you helping you there. Hey, where's your team, by the way?"

Probably robbing a shop or torturing someone. "They decided to skip breakfast."

"Why don't you join us then?" Vernal groaned silently. "My mom always said, breakfast is best with people."

Not when anyone could snatch your food when you aren't looking, Vernal wanted to add. Unlike the blonde overe here, Vernal actually liked being by herself when eating. No bastards smoking near her food or trying to stick their fingers in it. She had half a mind to tell the blondie to go and screw himself. But the way Jaune was smiling told her she wouldn't get out of it that easily. "Sure, thanks."

"Great, let's go then!"

The breakfast went from quiet attempt to enjoy her food to the lively conversation with the group. Surprisingly, the whole situation was not as annoying as she might have expected. None of them pried too much or did anything to particularly annoy her. And, in a way, it helped her out with her mission. As it turned out, Jaune got himself the famous Pyrrha Nikos as partner. She didn't even recognize her, with how shy and quiet the girl in front of her was acting.

Someone as strong as Nikos should have carried herself with more weight.

Still, Champion of four years in a row was someone she might need to keep an eye on. If Ozpin was half as smart as Raven described him, he would pick someone strong. But also someone gullible or naive enough to mold into a perfect little Maiden. Mistralian Champion with obvious self-esteem issue would definitely do. Not the only potential candidate but one who fit the bill well enough.

"Hey guys!" Slowly, four more people joined their small group. This one, looking all so much more interesting. With the exception of the quiet brunette with a dumb bow, she recognized the three easily. Two girls from the night before the exam, one of which was the potential score of a lifetime and another was a jailbait brat. "Who's your new friend?"

And, of course, Vernal recognized Yang Xiao Long. The weakling Raven had abandoned. The daughter whom her leader didn't want to have. She would have lied if she said she wasn't itching for the chance to meet her. If only to see what kind of warrior Raven's daughter could be.

"The name's Vernal," Frankly, she wasn't impressed. The blondie was strong, that much was obvious to anyone. She was strong but not powerful. For her, strength meant just raw physical power, disregarding the ruthlessness and killing instinct necessary to be truly strong. She could see it in the way the girl carried herself. Not like a warrior who would slay anyone who opposed her. But rather a fool who thought she could take on any challenge that came her way. "Nice to meet you."

The girl shook her hand, without any hint of doubt or suspicion. Even with her teeth shown and eyes sharp, Xiao Long didn't think twice before letting her get so close to her. If Vernal wanted, she could kill her. A knife within her reach would be enough - she was too fast for the girl to activate her Aura in time. And just like that, the bimbo would be dead and Raven would have one less nuisance distracting her.

Then again, murdering a fellow student would be a bitch to explain.

As the discussion within the group shifts from discussing weapons to weekend plans to dances and teachers, Vernal is feeling more and more frustrated with her position. With her plate now cleaned of any food, she asks what class they have first. And silently, she prays that it is not the Port's class on Grimm. She would rather suck Shay off than listen to another lecture by the man.

When she hears that they have the Combat Class by Goodwitch first, Vernal feels genuine relief. She finally gets to kick some ass around the place without any worry for her cover.

VA

"For the final match," Goodwitch says as the screen behind her is flashing with photos of students. "Cardin Winchester and Jaune Arc, come forward and prepare your weapons."

By this point, Vernal is ready to go out and fight the woman herself. Having been forced to sit out the whole class watching the others fight was one thing. But having to watch these morons fight so poorly was just infuriating. Everyone moved slow. Their attacks were sloppy and didn't have any actual force behind it. They were holding back, afraid to hurt someone. Scared of getting hurt in return.

Vernal was simply disgusted with it. And the final match promised nothing better.

Winchester was a hulking mass of muscles. And he had some skills and traits Raven would appreciate. But the shining armor he wore along with the arrogant grin that seemed to have been painted all over his face made him look less of a fellow survivor and predator and more like a hyena. It was clear that all that he had came from power and money. And those born into those things were always the first to break under pressure.

That, however, didn't change how this match would end.

Because even if Winchester was an arrogant prick, he still had enough strength to act like one. And Arc, for all his passion about being a Huntsman, was weak and as skilled as a toddler in terms of combat.

The match proceeded just as she expected. The bigger guy didn't seem bothered by the gap between them. In fact, it was quite the opposite as it was clear to everyone that Winchester enjoyed kicking the blondie all across the ring like a puppy. Arc was clearly faster and more agile but, just as with his sword and shield, lacked any actual experience in using those to his advantage.

In the end, Arc has no other option other than put all his remaining strength into holding his shield and taking on the hits. Vernal is somewhat impressed with how long it takes blondie to run out of Aura. His reserves are definitely twice what a normal huntsman his age should have. If he were better trained, he would make a fearsome warrior with those reserves. But the way he is right now, all he can do and is doing right now is just whimpering behind his shield as he weathers down the hits.

"Mr. Arc's Aura is in the Red, Mr. Winchester wins the match," Judging by her tone, the older Huntress hardly considers this a match and Vernal can't help but agree with her. A bully dishing out hits and leaving himself open because of his arrogance. And a weakling too unskilled to take advantage of said openings and turn the tide. "We will be covering the shortcomings of you both next class. Trust me, there is enough to last a semester."

Winchester scowls at the insult but doesn't do anything. To the professor, that is. As soon as Goodwitch's attention is focused on the rest of the class, the bigger guy quickly shoves past the blonde, knocking him down. Vernal expects the latter to yell, get angry, do something. And, unsurprisingly, she is disappointed as she sees the blonde just bury his eyes in the ground as he simmers in his own frustration and self-pity.

She stays a bit longer and watches on as his teammates try to comfort him. It's not his fault, they say. He will get better, Nikos promises. With a smile a bit too eager and desperate, she offers to train him. Get him up to speed on some basics. A generous offer, if one asked Vernal. She heard some people were willing to pay top Lien for private lessons from the Invincible Girl.

"Thanks," the blonde responds, with much edge to his tone than she expected from him. The trio mistake it for frustration with his loss. But Vernal feels like there's more to it. "I mean it, Pyrrha"

And in that moment, she sees something worth her attention. It is small but unmistakable for Vernal. The smallest glynt in Arc's eyes as he considers Nikos' offer. Briefest and impossible to catch unless you were watching, but it is there. But it is not the noble or grateful spark in the eyes of an aspiring hero. Not the bright flames of determined champion of the weak and oppressed.

But rather the same lust for power she and Raven shared.

The desire to be stronger than anyone else.

Vernal scoffed to herself as she gathered her things to leave. There was a spark, but hardly anything more. So what if the boy had some twisted desire for strength like her? From what she had seen, he had neither the drive nor readiness to do what needed to be done to achieve that kind of power. He wasn't willing to stain his hands and siul with the blood of others.

In the end, it was only those two things that determined whether you were predator or prey. And Jaune Arc had neither of those traits. He was a rabbit wishing to be the wolf. And creatures like that didn't last long out in the cold cruel world.

A sad yet simple fact.

VA

Days pass and Vernal wonders how long she would have to stay here. The classes are boring and useless as far as she is concerned. She knew plenty about killing Grimm and surviving in the wild. Why she needed to know about history was beyond her.

Luckily for her and any poor soul who'd suffer for her boredom, just when it seemed she was ready to start some trouble for the sake of having something to do, she happened to overhear something truly intriguing. A conversation between Nikos and Jaune, one she caught only thanks to her room being so close to the roof.

She expected a lot of stuff. A heartfelt confession. Or maybe even the two banging up there. Whatever high school cliche on the roof you could expect, she did. But what she heard was something completely unexpected. Though, in hindisght, maybe she shouldn't have been.

"So what you are saying is, that Arc kid faked his way in here" Black asks in the mid of their spar. For an asshole with no legs, he fights well enough. He actually makes her break a sweat. "Gotta say, I didn't expect that from him. It's always the dumb ones, I suppose."

Vernal notices that tiniest bit of respect in assassin's voice. And she can see why. Faking documents wasn't exactly an easy task. His fake ID was good enough for her to use, sure, but she never expected something of this scale.

Forging the certification from a huntsman school well enough to enroll into Beacon? This wasn't some sick note to skip school or prescription for drugs. This was the place where future fighters of humanity were raised into warriors of high calibre. To fake it so well... Jaune certainly had some talent for it. His skill would definitely be useful for the jobs in the cities if he were a part of the tribe.

Too bad he was too busy chasing after fairy tales and daydreaming.

"Cinder will like it," Sustrai smirks. "If I am right on Nikos crushing on that guy, we can use it as leverage. Get him to dig up whatever weaknesses the Champion has."

Vernal sighs in annoyance. That was indeed a good leverage. But just like everything else, only good in the right time. And theirs might have passed them by already.

"I doubt that will work out right now. From what I saw, Nikos is giving him a cold shoulder right now. Man, for a professional athelete, she is really uptight about the whole cheating thing."

Seriously, where could honest work get you in life? Slaving away from morning till night in some office as those born into power and money kept bragging about their hard work? Or work until your body breaks for someone to swoop in and take all that you've earned? In the end, the world didn't care if you got what you had by honest work or through cheating.

All that mattered was if you were strong enough to hold onto what was yours.

"And then there is Winchester," Vernal scoffs as she blocks Black's kick and goes for his gut. He dodges but she finds an opportunity to get him in the shoulder. "He knows it too."

The thief and the merc exchange brief looks before the latter smirks, "Feeling sorry for the Arc kid? Don't tell me someone got a crush."

The comment costs him a blow to the chest. Her crushing on Jaune? Right, as if she wanted to have some needy weakling for a boyfriend. As if she even wanted one. The guy looked like the kind of sap who would try and introduce her to his family after the third date or so. Life was short and Vernal wasn't one for commitments. And most definitely not to someone as weak and pathetic as that kid.

"I could care less about what happens to someone as weak as him," Vernal says honestly. "But lately the prick's been getting bolder. Thinks that just cause he got some weakling under his thumb, he is the king of the fucking school."

And she hated those kinds of assholes. Because if there was one thing Vernal despised more than weaklings, it was weaklings who thought they were some tough shit. Then again, she couldn't just kick his ass. Everyone knew that she was stronger than him. Her beating him up wouldn't humiliate him as much as she wanted him to be. No... If she wanted Winchester crushed, he had be beaten by someone he saw as weak. Someone whose victory over Winchester would leave him burning with shame.

"I am tired of being weak... This is why I came here. To learn how to fight. To never be left behind as my friends put themselves in danger trying to protect me!"

Arc's words from that night echo across her mind. She didn't buy all that crap about him wanting to protect friends, of course. What, would he be happy being weak and useless if there were no enemies? No, underneath all noble and heroic act the boy convinced even himself of, he wanted the same thing as all the people wanted. The same thing that people would fight and die for.

Power.

Winchester wanted power to push those weaker than him around. Black sought power to be free. Sustrai was a moron who hungered not for her own power but sought to give it all to her owner. And Vernal wished to be strong just for the sake of being strong. In the end, none of that crap mattered. Why they wanted it. How they would use it. None of meant anything.

It only mattered that you had power.

For power, you would sacrifice your soul and heart. For power, you would break your body over and over again. For the sake of never feeling weak, you'd do anything.

Even betray your partner.

"Leave Nikos to me," Vernal smiles as the plan brews in her head. "By the time I am done with Arc, he will be ready to hand over whatever he has on Nikos."

Power came before everything, after all.

VA

Mom always said that hatred was like poison. It entered your body and killed you from the inside. She always told them how important it was to let it go. Let the anger and rage wash all over you and fade away.

But how could he do that when he was drowning in this hatred?

"You better have my paper ready by tomorrow, Jauneyboy!"

Jaune grits his teeth as he struggles to keep himself in control. The bully notices it and smirks at the impotent rage on Jaune's face. He makes sure to look him in the eyes, challenging him to do something - anything at all.

He wishes he had enough strength to fight Cardin. To wipe that arrogant grin from his damn face. Or failing that, make it damn hard for Cardin to win. But he doesn't have the strength to do it. What's worse, he doesn't have the guts to even try doing something. Not just a weakling but a coward too...

Though honestly, what even was there for him to do? Even if somehow, through some miracle, he was strong enough to beat Cardin, he would still be ratted out and expelled. He would be paraded out of the school as everyone saw him for a fraud he was. And forging the documents into a huntsmen academy wasn't as forgivable as making fake IDs to get some alcohol.

At best, he would be blacklisted from all schools that trained huntsmen. He wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the academies and his best chance at fighting Grimm would be joining some faraway outpost city.

At worst, he might even go to jail. Mom and sisters would be devastated. And dad would blame himself for everything. His family would be shunned by everyone around them as the news of their only ending up in jail spread.

In the end, it didn't matter what he did. He was screwed either way unless he somehow got Cardin to never tell his secret.

"I always could kill him and bury his body somewhere in the forest," Jaune jokes as he walks to his room. His mind is falling apart under the stress as he struggles to do the double workload thanks to Cardin making trouble each and every class. "Yeah, right, that would totally solve all my problems."

"Don't be so sarcastic," a familiar tone interrupts his thoughts. Jaune is surprised to see Vernal. And slightly embarrassed about saying those things out loud. "Violence solves a lot of problems. More than you'd think, actually."

He gives Vernal a tired smile and half-hearted greeting, "Vernal, hey," Secretly he wishes he was in a better mood right now. Vernal was a good person, not the nicest girl, but a good one. "Sorry, but I am a little busy right now. I-"

"I know your secret, Jaune," the girl smiles and Jaune can almost feel the ground slip from under his feet. "I know all about your transcripts."

Suddenly, Vernal doesn't look as innocent or harmless as before. There is no pity or disappointment in her voice or eyes, but neither there is any support. As he looks longer at her, his heartbeat grows more frantic as he sees the same miscievous glynt in her eyes. The same burning in the eyes that he saw in Cardin's.

Both look like predators. But if Cardin looked like a hungry beast who had caught its prey, Vernal seemed more akin to a cat.

She looked like she wanted to play with him.

"Vernal, please, just listen," he doesn't even try to play dumb. The girl's eyes tell him that she knows everything and won't be fooled. "I know I messed up and I know you don't owe me anything, but please, don't tell anyone about it. Whatever you want, I will do it."

Pathetic and weak. Coward and wuss. Those are some of the nicer words that swin in his mind as he is trying to get Vernal's silence. Gods, how pathetic could he be? He wasn't strong enough to get in without cheating. And now he was too much of a coward to face the consequences like a man should. Though disgusted, he still begs and pleads for silence.

"You are tired, aren't you?" Vernal's question stops his pleas and he looks up at her in confusion. "The stress of keeping the secret, the whole Winchester mess... Those are really troublesome, aren't they?"

He nods miserably, feeling as the weight on his shoulders is slowly being lifted. "I just wanted to be a huntsman... To get strong enough to protect others. Where did it all go so wrong?"

"You chose the wrong purpose, that's all," Vernal smiles at his confusion. Wrong purpose? What was wrong with seeking strength for the people he loved and wanted to protect? "People don't seek power for the sake of others. The only person you should seek power is yourself and only yourself."

"That's not true," he quickly protested. "Huntsmen and huntresses all across Remnant train to help others. To fight the Grimm. How is that not for the sake of protecting those who can't protect themselves?"

"I think it is the part where they are strong to deal with Grimm," Vernal chuckles when he has nothing to say to that. "Think about it, Jaune, why seek power to fight Grimm if not to ensure that you don't have to fear them yourself? How many huntsmen and huntresses trained and graduated from one of the four academis yet chose to find safer places where they are the strongest?"

No, she was wrong. "There may be some bad people, Vernal. But that doesn't mean that all of the hunters are out for their own gain!"

"Yes, you are not one of them, are you? You only have the noble intentions," Vernal sounds genuine, yet something in her voice rubs him the wrong way. Like garlic floating in sweet tea. "Which is why I want to help you out."

What?

"Really?" he curses under his breath at the note of suspicion that creeps into his words. Vernal seems unfazed, even somewhat amused, by it though. "Why would you do that?"

"Maybe I have a thing for you. Maybe I fell for you the moment you came in that ridiculous sleepwear and have been pining for you ever since, waiting for the chance to get closer to you," Jaune chuckles humorelessly at the obvious bait. Normally, he would blush and stutter at the way Vernal widened her eyes and spoke just a tiny bit higher, obviously mocking the cliche romance tropes. But it was his life and dream at stake right now, so it was a bit harder for him to feel anything but fear and pressure. "Or maybe I just think there should be more noble huntsmen around. Someone who knows right from wrong. Someone willing to fight for what he believes in."

Coupled with her comments from before, Jaune can't help but feel the doubt in his gut grow. Was she serious about training him? Or was she just stringing him along for the sake of some cruel joke?

"She is not Cardin," Jaune chastised himself as he looked at Vernal again. This was the girl he befriended on his first night here. The same girl who helped him get down from the tree and even unlocked his Aura. Because of all the shit Cardin pulled on him, he now was blaming an innocent girl of something she didn't even do.

"I would like to take you up on this offer then," Jaune takes her hand. For a second, he feels the weird cold feeling coil around his heart. As if he was stepping into the dirty waters or night forest. He quickly shakes off the uncomfortable feeling, opting to focus on the more important things. "You can't imagine how much this means for me. Ever since I fought with Pyrrha-"

No. He won't talk about Pyrrha. Not like that. Not behind her back. His partner didn't deserve him lashing out at her back then. And she certainly didn't deserve him talking trash about her just bgecause he was dealing with consequences of his own actions.

"That's no problem, Jaune," Vernal smiles. "I am sure you will pay me back someday."

Definitely.

"I give you my word, Vernal. And an Arc never goes back on his word."

VA

Invincible Girl was the idol of countless people. The Champion of Mistral, capable of taking on any opponent, be it a professional fighter just like her or a very personal and invasive interviewer. Yes, Invincible Girl was indeed a confident and unshakeable person.

Too bad that Pyrrha Nikos was a nervous wreck, always anxious and worried. Her fame and success kept the others away from her. Alienated and starved for the interaction with her peers, she wished just for the normal person whom she could talk to without them going crazy over her status as the Champion.

And then she finally found one in Jaune. He had no idea who she was or how much being a Mistralian Champion meant. With him, she could be just Pyrrha Nikos. Not an Invincible Girl who had to carry herself with the power and esteem of the elite warrior but just another teenager.

And then she pushed him away.

Sure, Jaune had cheated his way in. But his heart was in the right place. He just needed someone to help him and Pyrrha was sure he would make an exceptional huntsman. But their first training session ended unpleasantly and now Pyrrha had no idea how to fix it with him. For all the interviews and meet-n-greet's she's done over the years, she still had no idea how to smoothly talk to someone when they had a fight.

Jaune, I don't agree with what you did but I want to help.

Hey, Jaune, weird week we are having, right?

Hi, Jaune! Wanna get back to training tonight and pretend nothing happened?

It wasn't just the fact that they had a fight, but also Cardin's increasing bullying of her partner. She wanted to put an end and she could. On the other hand, how could she know it wouldn't only worsen the relationship between her Jaune? If she just went and made Cardin stop bullying her partner, how could she knoew Jaune wouldn't see it as her looking down on him?

No. She was going to talk to him. No hesitation or doubt. The moment he walked inside, they would talk and resolve all their issues. No match could be won by remaining on the defense or waiting for your opponent to make a mistake. You had to be proactive and create opportunities on your own. With deep breath, Pyrrha promised herself that the moment Jaune came back, she would talk to him.

The door clicked open. Jaune entered. That confidence vanished.

"Hey, Pyrrha,"

Crap.

"Hi, Jaune," she smiled politely. "How was your day?"

"Not bad," he responded briefly, going for the closet in search of something.

"Good, that's good," she said and, for a few brief moments, there was awkward silence. Finally, Pyrrha decided to follow through with her tactic. "Look, Jaune, I know that- Wait... Where are you going?"

Only now did she realize that in those brief silent minutes, Jaune had changed out of his school uniform into some training gear. What concerned her even more was almost manic expression on his face as he packed Crocea Mors.

A small spark of hope lit up in Pyrrha. Could it be that Jaune also wished to bury that fight and get on with their training? "I see you are going to train," Jaune nodded in response as he checked his bag. "Great, just let me change into my workout clothes and I-"

Someone knocked on their door. Loud and hard.

"Hey, Goldilocks! Hurry up!"Pyrrha's words died in her throat as her mind struggled to match the face to the voice from behind the door. Not Nora or anyone from team RWBY. Then who was this? "You make me wait one more minute and I am breaking the door!"

"Oh man, she is pissed," Jaune didn't look afraid or surprised. In fact, he looked positively excited. Just who was this girl? "Sorry, Pyrrha, can't talk right now. I will be late so tell Ren and Nora not to worry."

Another loud banging on the door, followed by something that sounded suspiciously similar to blades being sharpened. "Five... Four... Three..."

"Okay, gotta go. Good night, Pyrrha!"

With a swipe of his keycard, Jaune opened the door. Behind it stood the girl whom Pyrrha vaguely recognized from their breakfast a week or so ago. Now also clad in combat gear of sorts, the girl looked positively annoyed. "Just for making me wait, I will make sure you are all sore by the morning. Oh, hey there, Champion."

"Hi, Vernal," Pyrrha feels something form in the pit of her stomach. Something small but hot. Something ugly and unpleasant. And that feeling grows bigger and stronger the longer she looks at Vernal and how close Jaune stands to her. "W-Where are you two going?"

"Just some late-night training," Vernal smirks. And Pyrrha can't help but feel the urge to wipe it off her face. "Jaune over here asked me to beat him into shape. Hope you don't mind if I borrow him for a few nights."

She did mind. She minded very much.

"Oh, sure," curse her tongue. "I am really happy Jaune has someone like you to help him out."

Even though he already had a professional fighter as his partner.

"Cool, then I'll return him by breakfast," Vernal slapped Pyrrha's shoulder, giving her a wide grin. Then, turning to the left, she called out for Jaune, "Let's go already. Trust me, blondie, you want to start the training as soon as possible."

Jaune doesn't even question or comment, instead obediently following the instructions as he runs after the girl. As she watches the two leave, that nasty burning feeling coils itself around her heart like a snake. Her fists clench and, for a brief moment, she considers fighting the girl right there and then. But then she stops...

It was good that Jaune found someone to help him out. Even if it wasn't her, Pyrrha wasn't going to start trouble over some jeal- concern for her partner. It was rational, after all. It was logical and normal to allow Jaune to train under whoever he wanted, he was old enough to make his choices after all.

But the further they left, the less Pyrrha believed her own words. And as the two disappeared behind the corner, that ugly feeling tightened its hold around her heart. She was happy for Jaune. But she certainly did not trust Vernal. Whatever was happening between the two, she would keep a close eye on it.

For both her and Jaune's sake.

VA

Vernal smiled as she stood in the pale moonlight, enjoying the sensation of cold light on her skin. Opposite of her, clad in his own gear, Arc stood ready. Ready to listen. Ready to follow. Ready to obey. In a way, she felt some gratitude to Winchester for driving the boy so desperate that he would listen to her every word. People, when backed into corner, would always take any chance to get out of it, after all.

"I hope you are ready to hurt, Goldilocks." She cracked her knuckles and let her Aura flare. "Because I am not going easy on you."

No pep talk. No kiddy gloves. No safe words or any other crap. If he wanted to be strong, he had to be vicious and mean. No matter how much she pushed, he wouldn't get to Cardin's level of brute force. So they would make up for that with pure viciousness and resilience.

"I am ready, Vernal."

To his credit, the blondie didn't let himself be intimidated. Instead, he stood tall and confident. Determined to take on any pain as long as he got what he wanted. That kind of determination was almost impressive. Bigger men than him ran away from her, begging for mercy.

"Do your worst..."

Despite being weaker, he grins. And in that grin, in those azure eyes, she sees the same hunger she once saw in her own reflection. The same desire for power that started out innocent and then turned primal. The same look in her eyes when she promised herself to stand above all with her strength. The same fire that burned in her eyes today every time she fought.

"Because I am not backing down!"

And she liked what she was seeing.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

DOTW 8 start

Erwin was fucking late and Levi was suspicious. Hanji was hosting a BBQ, with all of their friends invited, as well as the omega he'd seen cuddled into Eren. He had no idea they'd become friends, but the omega had steadily been winning over everyone, much to the annoyance of the alpha sitting beside him. Levi had only said two things to the man since he'd got there, "hello" and "do you want a beer?". That was enough. The man was an arsehole. It was bad enough he was being forced to be social. But being nice and social... it was too much. Hanji could have one or the other... It was only because she'd threatened to take Titan away that he was even here. He hadn't thought she'd been serious until he was woken by a very distressed cat, and a not so quite cat burglar in his apartment. Hearing the crunch of tires on the blue metal drive, Hanji rushed to the curtain, spying out like a paranoid neighbour "Erwin's here!" The front door literally opened into the open plan kitchen, lounge and dining area where they were all gathered. If she could have waited a few more minutes, Erwin could have announced himself. Jogging over to the door, she threw it open "Erwin! So nice... oh, you better come in" The room went silent as Erwin carried in an unconscious Eren. It was then that Levi knew he'd once and truly been had "Guys! It's ok. He just fainted. Anyway, this is Eren! He's going to be living here for a while!" He was what? What about Eren's family? He needed fucking answers. Placing his glass of scotch down, Levi followed Erwin and Hanji upstairs. Eren not stirring as Erwin carried him down to the guest room he'd thought was supposed to be turning into a nursery "Care to fucking explain what happened?" "His brother skipped town. Moved out and didn't tell him about it. He's officially homeless" Hanji let out a small gasp "How did you find out about Zeke?" "I took him by the apartment. Told him that he could talk with his brother, and if he agreed to take him back, he could stay there. Neighbours not so kindly informed us that they'd left. Eren freaked out, and collapsed. He smells like he's going into heat. Have you got suppressants for him?" "Yeah, I should do. I have just about everything in the bathroom. Fuck... I didn't want to believe his brother could leave him... he said he'd saved him" "He said the same thing to me. Zeke kept him safe and protected him. I get the feeling Eren has more than a few skeletons in his closet" "Oh. Good. Levi, can you keep an eye on Eren? I need to get his shot organised while Erwin grabs the rest of Eren's things out the car" The look between the pair was missed by the agitated alpha. If Eren was going into heat, he shouldn't be anywhere near him "Awesome. Thanks. I promise I'm totally not trying to set you up with him, it really was because he has no where to go" "Whatever. Just hurry up" Left alone with Eren, Levi sighed at the uncomfortable looking position Erwin had left him in. The kids hair was all over his face. Sitting on the edge of the double bed, Levi reached out, brushing the teen's hair back from his face. Despite its soft appearance, he really needed a good haircut. He shouldn't be fucking doing this. He shouldn't be sitting on the bed with Eren, not when was this distressed. Ghosting his fingers down, he cupped Eren's face. Even in his sleep, the kid was crying. As his thumb wiped at the tears, he realised what he was doing. Going to pull away, he was stopped as Eren whined softly, rolling and wrapping an arm around him. Hiding his face against his leg, as he whined again. Gently prying Eren away from him, the kid had a deceptively strong hold. He didn't want Eren rousing completely, so was fucking stuck like this. Much to Hanji's delight, when she finally returned "Did he wake?" "No, he fucking rolled over and now I'm stuck" "As long as you're stuck, would you mind keeping him still. I need to pull his sweats down enough to inject him" "Don't you have tablets?" "I do, but this will work faster. What do you think about his brother?" "I didn't expect him to pack up and leave him. Not with how possessive he was" "Maybe it's for the best, if he was being abused?" "He has severe abandonment issues and you're saying it's a good thing he's been left again. You don't listen to yourself do you?" "I just mean... now that Zeke's gone, Eren has the chance to start all over again" "I doubt he's going to see it that way" Hanji hummed, before climbing onto the opposite side of the bed. Sliding Eren's sweats down, she wiped the spot over with an alcohol wipe, injecting the sleeping omega with the suppressants "Hopefully this will keep his heat away until he can adjust to his new surrounds" Eren let out a whine, his hand gripping Levi's side "Here, I'll help get him off you" "Good. I can't believe you didn't fucking tell me about this" "And I can't believe you really thought I'd steal Titan" "I see how you look at him. You scared the fuck out of him" "I had planned to wake you up with him in the carry cage, but there was no way he was going to fit into one" "No. He's a bit too big. You better not be planning on trying to get us together. He needs to heal" "Nope. They wanted him out of the hospital. I stalled all I could, but as far as they see, it's a bed being wasted" "Fucking shitty arseholes" "Pretty much. He looks so innocent" It was a struggle to get Eren off of him. The omega whimpering and grabbing for him as Hanji pulled him off. Once free, he grabbed the spare pillow off the bed and placed it into Eren's hold. The teen holding it tight as he curled around it. For someone with such a tall frame, it was funny how gentle he seemed to really be. Creeping out the room, Hanji closed the door so he'd have some privacy. In their absence, the gathering had picked back up. His seat now occupied by Erwin, who was talking to the omega. Upon seeing him, the omega got to his feet, carrying over his glass from before "Sorry, I grabbed your drink so nothing would happen to it" "Uh. Right. Thanks" "I'm Marco. I danced with Eren for a couple of weeks, before everything happened. Is he alright?" "He's sleeping at the moment" Marco seemed to deflate "I'm sure he's just tired from the trip" "You're probably right" Slinging her arm around his shoulder, Hanji beamed "Marco, Eren just needs a little nap. If you want to go up and join him, I'm sure he'd love the company" Marco looked back at his alpha "I don't think Jean would be too happy. He thinks Eren's a bad influence" "I think Jean needs another drink. Oh, I've got Eren a new phone. Well, I got Erwin to pick him up one. Do you mind if we give him your number?" "That would be really nice. Thank you, Hanji. And thank you for taking Eren in. He's a really nice guy, and helped protect me, so it's nice he'll be living somewhere so nice" How could this kid be so nice? And since when did he say "nice", even mentally?! This. This is why he shouldn't socialise. This niceness just wasn't his cup of tea. The world was a shit place... and oh fuck. Hanji pushed away from him, Petra walking through the door with a smile "Petra! Come on in! Marco, this is Petra!" The poor kid had no idea what was coming, but as Hanji guided the two of them away, he was grateful it wasn't him. * Confused green eyes fluttered open as Eren pushed the pillow he'd been drooling into away. His body felt revolting. Like he was boiling alive in his skin. Fuck. He knew this fucking feeling too well. He knew the throbbing between his thighs, and sticky wetness. The aching in his chest and the sweat covering his body. Fucking heat. This was like his forth in less than three months. Even if they only lasted for a few days, and even if he could mostly keep his mental faculties during them, he hated them with a passion. Omegas were supposed to go into a full heat. Days of pleasure as they came over and over, filled to the brim by their alphas. Or days of self pleasure in desperate need. Not this limbo of arousal that left him hurting himself, while still able to get up and move around. He was fucking sick of it... and worst of all. His heat was starting while he was in a new place. He didn't feel safe. This wasn't his bed, and none of this stuff was his... he was alone... he was alone and he couldn't take care of his heat alone... and he couldn't tell Hanji. Or anyone. He couldn't cause them trouble. He didn't want to be all alone again. Climbing from his bed, his intention was to find a bathroom. Only, his leadened limbs tangled, sending him sprawling across the bedroom floor with a ridiculously loud thud. Rolling on his back, he flung his arm over his face, before sniffing in confusion. The scent on his arm smelt amazing. His omega purring it's acceptance of the scent. He wanted to wrap himself it in, and submit. "Shit brat. Do I want to know what happened?!" Eren blushed harder than he'd ever blushed in his life. The delicious scent radiating from Levi matched the scent on his arm... shit. He couldn't let the man know "Uh. Yeah. I think I fell for you all over again..." "Again?" "Yeah, 'cause, you know... at the club" Levi sighed heavily, walking over to his side and offering him a hand up "You shouldn't be laying on the floor. Not in this place. Hanji is terrible at cleaning, and Moblit isn't any better" "Moblit?" "Her husband. She didn't tell you anything, did she?" Eren stared up at Levi. The man had deflected his joke like it was nothing "I don't have all day brat, and by the smell of it, neither do you" "Oh... I think I'm going to stay down here" Levi shrugged, letting his hand drop "Suit yourself. I'll let Hanji know not to disturb you. Have fun jerking off" That fucking arsehole. He could have just told Hanji not to disturb him, but no. He had to bring up the omega thing "Because you fucking alphas don't go through ruts or anything. If anyone's a wanker, you are" He was quite proud of that. Levi's eyes widened a fraction before he snorted "Says the omega laying on the floor. I don't care what Hanji's got in mind, but I have no interest in you. Enjoy the floor" And then he left him. Eren's heart felt like it was breaking at Levi's rejection. He knew it was his omega's fault and the fault of his heat. But Levi smelt like nothing he'd known. Like true safety. He'd been safe with Zeke. Zeke had gotten him back on his feet. Had nursed him back to health and helped get him his job. Zeke had been there through his nightmares. He'd taken care of the people the police wouldn't deal with. He'd been safe... but Levi smelt like... he smelt good. He didn't want him to leave... and now that he had, he wanted to run after him and beg him to stay. Disgusted by his own desires, Eren stayed laying on the floor. He was being stupid he didn't need an alpha. All alphas did was hurt omegas. Zeke was the only alpha he could trust. His brother was... his brother was gone. Falling back to sleep on the floor, he woke to find he'd been scratching in his sleep. With his legs covered, his arms had born the brunt of the attack. Fuck. Hanji would ask questions and he wouldn't be able to give her answers. It was bad enough someone had been in the room while he slept. The lamp beside the bed was on now, blankets were neatly stacked at the end of the bed and by the bed was a small bucket. Peeling himself off the floor, he cringed at how gross he felt... first thing was first. Bathroom. Shower. Collapse back in bed and pray Hanji didn't see the scratches. Coming back from the bathroom, Eren nearly had a heart attack. His eyes widened as his heart leapt. Everything was forgotten. Rushing across the room the best he could, he threw his arms around Zeke. Burying his face in the curve of his neck as he started sobbing softly "Where were you?" "Eren, you need to be quiet" "You left me" "I had to. After all the trouble you caused, your picture ended up online. You know it's not safe. You put all of us in danger" "I didn't mean to" "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to. You still did. We had to leave" "But you're here now?" "Because I need you to stop looking for me. I need you stay here" "I want to come with you" "You can't. It's not safe" "But why?" "You know why. I need you to stay here" "For how long" "Until things are safe again. I'm not bringing you with us" "I'll be good" "You stay that, then you start fights for no reason. I can't have you if you're not going to behave. Maybe getting you that job was the wrong thing to do. You've been out of control for months" "I'll do better" "You always say that, but you never do. I know you can be good. But I don't have time to retrain you" "I don't want you to go" "Just stay here and I'll come back when it's safe" "You will?" "Come here, you're in heat. You should be in bed" "I don't want you to go" "I have to. You're not a child Eren. It's time you started taking responsibility for your actions. I didn't raise you to be a whore or to start fights" So all of this... he'd brought all of this on himself. Reiner, Bertholdt and Zeke were in danger because of him... his world was crashing down around him "I feel so sick" Zeke kissed his temple, nuzzling against the spot as he gave him a quick squeeze "Lay down. You shouldn't be moving and causing more trouble" Throwing up was never fun. Zeke rubbed his back and played with his hair as he did. He didn't want to believe this was the last time he was going to see his brother. He didn't want Zeke to leave. His words had hurt. They'd cut deep, but Zeke was right. He did start fights. He wasn't a good omega who lowered his head to just any old alpha that came along, and now he had to go because of him. He hated it. He'd done this. He'd put them in danger all because he couldn't keep his mouth shut "I have to go. Stay here and keep your mouth closed. They can't know I was here" "Please..." "Eren. This isn't up for discussion. Stay here and don't cause me any trouble" Falling asleep wasn't welcomed. He didn't want to close his eyes. He didn't want to say goodbye to Zeke. But exhausted from the fever, the nausea and the heat, he couldn't stop himself. When he woke, there were no traces Zeke had even been there. His body burnt with fever that felt more than heat. He couldn't even keep his eyes open. The whole world span each time he did. If Zeke was here, he'd know what was wrong... but his brother had left him. He'd told him stay here with strangers... because he'd done everything wrong. He wanted his big brother back. He would have followed him anywhere and would have done anything he'd asked him too. He loved him.

[xfilescat]

unbroken (steve harrington x reader)

word count: juuust shy of 2k

warnings: angst, fluff, language! i swear, you guys: in real life i’m SO prim and proper, but for some reason i curse like a frickin’ sailor when i write lmao

preview: “‘Do you think we’ll ever be able to feel like regular people again?’

‘I don’t know. But I do know one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I know that I love you, and I’ll always do everything I can to make you feel safe.’”

A/N: hi friends!!! this is just a little one-shot thingy (set some time after the end of season 2) that i randomly thought of whilst in the middle of writing something else, so i took a break and jotted this down. is jotted the past tense of jot? idk. anyway, sorry this is so short!!! also FORGIVE ME if i sound completely clueless about guns (there’s one mentioned in here) bc i’m very anti-gun (we need gun control NOW) so I don’t know anything about them. had to google “how do guns work? i’m a writer” and now the nsa is probably watching me. it’s fine! nsa, if you’re reading this, i’m literally just a clueless teenage writer. oh and enjoy my story! :) lol what if while i was writing this, the gov’t just broke down my door and took me away? that would be so

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” You’re sitting on the floor of your bedroom, your fingers shaking as you struggle to wrangle your hair into a tight french braid. You’ve got the handset of your phone jammed between your ear and your shoulder. It’s ringing, ringing, ringing. “Pick up the goddamn phone, Harrington,” you whisper through your teeth. You wait, but you hear nothing. Nothing but more fucking ringing. You finally finish your braid and tie it off, and then you grab the phone and slam it as hard as you can back onto the receiver.

Because of all of the crazy, unbelievable, and traumatizing shit you’ve been through, you and your boyfriend Steve have made each other an unbreakable promise: you call each other every night, no exceptions. No. Exceptions. Before this deal was brokered, you would both lie awake every night worried that the other was in danger, or hurt, or worse. Some might say you two were paranoid. Well, some haven’t been to hell and back. Some haven’t been attacked by literal monsters. Some haven’t watched the person they love almost die—multiple times. It’s not paranoia if the danger is real, so the nightly calls help you both sleep better. You can’t possibly go to bed in peace without hearing Steve’s voice. This is the first night in eight months that he hasn’t answered you on the first ring. So, you think to yourself, you’re going to his house right now. And you’re going to be prepared.

Irrational. Irrational. Irresponsible and irrational. That’s all you can think as you run from your bedroom to your basement, but your brain can’t seem to stop your feet from carrying you directly to your father’s safe under the stairs. You know the code. “For emergencies,” your dad had said when he gave it to you (right after the news about Will Byers’ disappearance spread through town). It’s your mother’s birthday. You’re so keyed up that it takes you four tries to get it open, but once you’re in, you grab the .45 without hesitation. It feels cold, foreign, and wrong in your hand. Good, you think. You would’ve been far more unnerved if it’d felt right.

There’s a glaring flaw in your plan: you don’t know how to shoot a gun. Shoving the pistol into the pocket of your jacket, you speed back to your bedroom (taking great care not to wake your sleeping parents), launch yourself at the phone, and hurriedly dial your best friend’s number. Her dad’s a cop and you know for a fact she’s been to the shooting range with him once or twice. She picks up instantly. “Hey Y/N, what’s up?” You take a deep breath and force a smile that you hope she’ll be able to hear through the phone.

“Heyyy, Grace! So, I’m writing a short story and I have a question for you.”

“Shoot!” You cringe at her remarkably apropos word choice.

“Can you… can you explain how to use a gun? One of my characters uses one and, uh, you know me: total perfectionist. Gotta make my work accurate!”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. You tap your foot anxiously, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 10:06, four minutes since you last called Steve. A lot of shit can go down in four minutes. Your head starts to spin. She finally responds.

“This is for a short story?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of gun is it? In your story, I mean.”

“It’s a .45.”

She sighs heavily. “There’s a little lever thing on the grip. That’s the safety. Switch it down, aim, and pull the trigger.”

You know she’s suspicious. She doesn’t know anything about what you and the others went through, but she knows you’ve suddenly lost the ability to go anywhere by yourself, you haven’t turned off the lights in your room since last November, and you jump whenever someone shuts their locker a little too hard. She’s probably very scared, and you feel sick with guilt. You can’t think about that right now, though. All you can think about is Steve.

“Gracie, I’m fine. I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise.”

“I’ll be waiting. You know you’re a terrible liar, Y/N/N. Whatever the hell you’re doing, you better be careful.”

“I will be. Don’t worry.”

You hang up, frantically leap to your feet, and grab the first pair of shoes that you see (actually, you just grab the first two shoes you see, which is how you ended up in one black boot and one brown one). You slide open your bedroom window. It’s pitch dark and raining hard outside, so that should make the climb down the drainpipe a whole lot more interesting. Luckily, you make it to the ground with minimal injuries. You rush to your car and reach into your pocket for your— “FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK!” You whisper-scream as you realize your pocket contains nothing but your dad’s gun. Suddenly, you remember where your keys are: locked in the fucking car. You did it this afternoon when you got home from school and promptly forgot about it. You absolute IDIOT.

Well, you think to yourself with a humorless chuckle, desperate times call for… throwing a rock through your window. After a quick search, you lift up a sizable stone from the street and lob it as hard as you can at your passenger window. It shatters with an ear-splitting crash. You glance up at your parents’ bedroom window to make sure they didn’t hear, and breathe out in relief when you see that the light’s still off. They’re gonna kill you when they find out, but at this moment, you couldn’t care less. You reach into the car to open the door from the inside, and in your haste, you slice open your forearm on a jagged piece of glass. “God-FUCKING-damn it,” you screech, feeling faint as you watch your jacket sleeve turn dark red. Great! Just great.

Shaking your head, you quickly brush the window shards off the passenger seat, climb inside, and clamber over to the steering wheel. Jamming the keys into the ignition, you stomp on the gas and speed off down the street. Your goal is to cram the fifteen minute drive to Steve’s house into a mere five minutes. You hope that neither the blood loss nor the anxious tears in your eyes ruin that plan.

You’re there in seven minutes. You pull into the driveway and slam hard on the brakes, tires screeching as you come to a jolting halt. Immediately, you pull the gun out of your pocket, stumble out of the car, and run up to the house—oh my god, why are all the lights off?—without bothering to shut off your car’s engine or even close the door. When you reach Steve’s front door, you knock about a million times. Your mind is jumping to horrific conclusions and you’re powerless to stop it. You hold your breath when you hear movement inside. You hold your father’s pistol tighter, going over Grace’s instructions in your head just in case: turn safety off, aim, pull trigger.

Fortunately, you don’t need to use any of that information because your boyfriend opens the door a moment later, his car keys in his hand and a worried look on his face. “Steve,” you choke out, breathing a shuddering sigh of relief. He looks you up and down, eyes widening in concern when he sees the gun in your shaking hand, the blood soaking through your sleeve, and the fact that you’re drenched with rainwater. He knows you well enough to know exactly why you’re here. “Y/N, baby, oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t call. This storm’s knocked out all the phone lines and the power on my street. I was just about to drive over to your place.” You don’t say anything. You just drop the gun and throw your arms around him. He pulls you close without hesitation. “Are you okay?” You nod into his chest, mumbling, “I am now.”

He leans back just enough to look into your eyes, leaving his arms around your waist. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re still crying, then?”

“I’m not crying,” you sob.

He breathes a laugh, sitting down on the front step and gently pulling you down with him. You’ve started shivering, and he notices. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he says softly before he sprints into the house. He returns in seconds with that thick wool blanket that’s always draped over the back of his living room sofa. He knows it’s your favorite. He drapes it over your shoulders and sits back down next to you. “Please tell me what’s wrong, Y/N/N.”

He wraps his arm around you and you lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I hate living like this,” you whisper. “I hate that this happened to us. I just want to go back to normal. This is—this is too hard.” He tenses. “By ‘this,’ do you mean us? Do you… not want to be together anymore?” You remember that conversation you had a few months ago about how bad Nancy messed him up, how he doubts himself as a boyfriend, how he has a debilitating fear of you not loving him. You sit up straight and tenderly place your hands on either side of his face, staring deep into his eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to be with you, Steve. I love you so much. This isn’t about my feelings for you at all—those will never change.”

Steve nods, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry. I know you love me, I do, and I love you, but I just—” He starts to ramble, so you gently interrupt. “No, it’s okay! God, you’re so sweet. You don’t have anything to apologize for. I know you, I care about you so much, and I’m not going anywhere. Loving you isn’t the thing that’s hard.” You look down. “It’s—it’s living in constant fear that I’m gonna lose you.” Your voice breaks, and he pulls you back into his arms. “Hey, shh. Look at me. Nobody’s losing anybody, okay?” He pauses to kiss you again, slowly and sweetly this time. “I’m not going anywhere, either. Everything that happened, all of the bad stuff, it’s all over. Everybody’s okay. We’re all safe.” You sigh deeply, sinking into his warmth. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to feel like regular people again?”

“I don’t know. But I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I know that I love you, and I’ll always do everything I can to make you feel safe.”

You hug him tighter, and he pulls you onto his lap. You don’t know if he’s right about everything being over, but you know that you’ve never felt safer than you do right here in his arms. After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, he looks down at you. “You wanna stay over tonight? I could take a look at your arm and try to patch it up. Plus, you’re already out of your house.” You smile brightly. “Of course. But no funny business, Harrington. I’ve just had a very rough night.” He sighs in mock-disappointment. “Well, shit! There go my plans.” You giggle, resting your head on his shoulder once more. Another comfortable silence ensues before he speaks up again. “You’re wearing two different shoes.”

“I know.”

“Your car’s still running. And did you… did you smash the window?”

“I know. And yes.”

“You’re gonna have to explain that to me later. Is that how you hurt yourself?”

“I will. And yes.”

“You’re crazy. I love you. Also, you missed a whole section of your hair when you were braiding it.”

“Alright, watch it, Harrington.”

[cow3survivor]

Ep. 6: “So Many Ways This Could Backfire” - Jennet

JENNET 

so the plan worked out great except jabari said that “now jake will know the truth” in front of daisy and the other tribemates🥺 i was hoping that i could pin this on lindsay so that once we merged i could lie about it and have lindsay be out next before the merge... this is truly sickening idk what to do

(a little later)

feeling really bad... is it my fault that jake forced me into a f3 with jabari who ive barely spoken with??? idk i feel like not only did i betray her but i betrayed a black woman and that makes me sick to my stomach.... hoping that i made the right choice and this propels me further in the game🥺 i honestly hated having to do that but maybe if ethan and sam have tribal connections left, when we merge, maybe we will be able to stick together and he’ll also help connect me

JESSICA

I GOT THE IDOL! It is good for 4 rounds and I still have my vote. And just in time as we are swapping into 3 tribes of 5 like I thought..... wow my psychic abilities! Jabari got voted out at tribal and I'm sad. I didn't know her but I think she was new to orgs and I really wanted to play with her! Plus she volunteered to do the tiebreaker for her tribe so I thought they'd keep her due to that. Time for a swap lets kick this game into gear!

JENNET

hoping jake isnt on the same tribe as daisy or lindsay

(a little later)

also hoping im on a tribe of winners so i never make it to tribal bc i DEFINITELY was/am the weakest link☠️

MIKEY

so. I FUCKING HATE THIS NEW TRIBE. THEY PICKING OFF ALL THE GOOD ORIGINAL CALUMMA MEMBERS AND MY GIRL JABARI LITERALLY JUST LEFT??? FUCK YOU JENNET. I KNOW THIS IS BECAUSE OF YOU! But anyways, its me and jake vs all OG (insert other tribes name) and i think I'm going next lool fuck ME. this is very sad indeed and idk im upset but ima try my mf hardest

JAKE

https://youtu.be/OzrGekDCG8I xoxo gossip girl

JENNET

jones and ethan on my tribe?? *blushes sm*

(a little later)

nervous about this tribe... ive pulled off three blindsides that ive helped orchestrate so if like if someone really wanted to look deeper into it.... they would be able to make a target out of me bc of it. definitely worried

(after cooking a fish)

this is basically an allstar team. everybody on here is a heavy hitter and that makes me worried bc if i wasnt the weakest link before, i definitely am now. wishing we had gotten rid of lindsay instead of jabari bc we just made another team stronger but it is what it is i guess

JONES

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbTUvzatQrw

JESSICA

Today's song is "Ribs" by Lorde because I have played it on repeat all morning. Also I forget if I said for my last confessional but that song was "Sober", also by Lorde. Basically I love Lorde and my life is better because of it. This swap worked out super well for me! I really said in my host chat "Could I please be put on a tribe with Shane and Daisy?" and the hosts simply said "Okay". I have my final 3 back together and we also have Lindsay and Lovelis. Lindsay seems really cool so far and Lovelis and I have a good thing going so I feel very confident on this tribe. I really hope we do not lose because honestly? I don't want to vote out Lindsay at all. I like that she is active and she seems like someone who really is putting in effort whereas Lovelis, as much as I like him, just really hasn't been here. I would rather play this game with people who are more active so to me it's like.... Lindsay is absolutely not the obvious vote if we lose. Not even a bit! I'd love to do with her what I did with Mikey and make a separate f2 so that when we merge, she's someone who will keep the target off of me. I didn't tell my alliance about the idol because honestly I just don't anticipate using it at all. It expires so soon and I really only took it so that no one else would end up having it. Also.... I don't know, I didn't tell them right away because I was a bit busy at the moment we swapped and now it feels suspicious if I do tell them? Also who knows, maybe they would not find my story believable and think I have an idol up to final 5 which I just don't want! I'd rather throw the idol into the sea so it causes no problems. This immunity challenge is an interesting one. If I knew what was in the boxes, I would probably bet more, but I bet some of those boxes have bad things or nothing in them and I simply do not want that. If I had to guess, one has the other half to that idol, one probably has an idol clue, another maybe has extra idol searches.... maybe another has an idol nullifier? Or a vote peek? Really none of these are things that I need. They're all cool but I'd rather be immune thanks! As far as how I feel in the game, I really do want the Maples to be f3. I'd rather be at the end with my alliance and lose than flip and be there without them. Ummmm what other thoughts do I have.................... I think that might be it. My mind is empty but I'm still moving forward.

LINDSAY

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1L5Nzch65XLD_njxnIxLKwqUs5vqXcYot/view?usp=drivesdk

JESSICA

Also if we lose this immunity....... I'll be mad because I bet 0 on everything and I am STAYING that way!

JENNET

feeling increasingly bad for voting out jabari /:: idk it doesnt sit right with me in the grand scheme of things. obviously its a game but the fact that i genuinely upset somebody to that extent is so sick. idec that we’re going to tribal, i want to be voted out

ETHAN

3 tribals in a row... I don't for a freaking second believe that Jones and Nicol "made a mistake" with their bidding. This feels like throwing, and if it is, it means that: 1. they feel comfortable enough with Jennet to have a majority 2. they feel comfortable enough with Pete to have a majority 3. it doesn't matter anyway, they now have 2 boxes and potentially an idol or two they could use Either way, this is a freaking sucky situation, and Pete is being super sketchy. People keep making bad play after bad play so honestly, it is hard for me because I keep assuming that they will be doing all of these things to throw the wool over my eyes when they actually aren't doing anything.

JENNET

im annoyed im frustrated and im angry... why were so many points used?

(a little later)

here i am... again... in the middle guys vs girls.... um this sucks bc like me ethan pete didnt use alot of points and nicole and jones did so thats like sucky bc initially i wanted pete gone but like now theres no reason for it to be him

(after soaking in the sun)

nicole says that pippa told her to wait to see whats in the box, so that could mean tribal or that could wait next round. or what if its a comeback power? i literally have no idea what to do

(after making a pillow out of leaves)

okay so the plan is, we get to tribal. me ethan and pete vote for nicole. jones and nicole vote for pete. nicole uses immunity on herself, pete goes home. there are so many ways this could backfire and honestly if it sends me home than im okay with that. i just hate going to tribal so many times in a row

MADISON

I AM FREE FROM MY BROOKESIA PRISON. Current tribe dynamic on Furcifer: me/Sammy have been on the same tribe this whole time, me/Sammy/Jake were just on swap Brookesia, and i know Sam from OG Brookesia so the only person i'm just now meeting is Mikey and that stresses me out so much less than if we had merged or something. My gut is telling me that the idol is long gone and searching might just get me annoyed before it gets me an idol. On the upside, i still have time to find one if it's it out there because i highly doubt I'll be in trouble anytime soon the way my tribe keeps winning everything. ALSO: i only said that i thought Calumma would lose because Shane was on that tribe and i just felt like he would go big or go home but that's an issue to address when our paths cross again. If our tribe ends up going to tribal sometime soon, i would hope it would be the obvious choice to vote Mikey seeing as how i know him the least but idk maybe thats wishful thinking i dont want it to come to that.

SAMMY

Mikey has my heart on this tribe....YUP I really just wanna keep all the fun ppl...im missing daisy:// umm I did not bid on a single thing and I kind of regret it but also??? At least I am safe from tribal...but damn I really should have bid huh? Anyways not much is going on...ready to start playing a more individual game tho hehe

SHANE

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1-WUq5wfYK3Xb1Y-KNZptfyagwvSff4cd

NICOLE

I cannot believe I risked being voted out only to NOT BE ABLE TO PLAY NEXT IMMUNITY!!!!!!! what a round, I'm so sad. But I hope I stay.

DAISY

from f15 https://youtu.be/-_meWPNctO0

PETE

it’s literally... dude.. why can’t i just float to a merge whyyYYYYYYYYyyYyYyyyYyYy does it AAAALWAYS have to be so COMPLICATED like this is it this is the time im mufuckin ouutttiiieeeeeee that challenge was clearly thrown so like ✌🏼 it was fuuuun i hope y’all liked me enough to bring me back for whatever the next chameleon returnees thingy is uwu

(after being attacked by bees)

i know i’m paranoid and every tribal i feel sick to my stomach but nobody has talked to me today, except ethan about how fucked we are, it’s half an hour before tribal and no one really seems like they want to work with me. i still haven’t heard a name

TRIBAL COUNCIL

PETE EXIT INTERVIEW

[loriendragonqueen]

New Dawn - Chapter Five

Pairing: Ivar x OC

Words: 1.959

Warnings: bad language; blood; fight; magic; explicit; pain;

Notes: Get ready to some gore, confusion and some Hvitserk interaction... ^^

Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four

___________________________________________________

"Where are you going?" Hvitserk asked halfway to the new camp.

"I do not know. I need to ride. Just ride!" Isa said before leaving at gallop.

"Where is she going?" Ivar asked getting close to his brother.

"Far from you, maybe!" he said risking a laugh, what made his brother squeeze his eyes and growl a bit.

Ivar knew that her sight had affected her somehow.

Isa rode until the afternoon began to fall completely. Her new bond to the animal carrying her through the valleys and woods helped her find part of the lost balance. The horse even carried her to a river source, where she bathed before her return.

She arrived when the five brothers were arguing about the true heir of their father, the great King Ragnar Lothbrok. Ivar was stubborn that he was the chosen one, for his father took him to England and told him to avenge him. But Bjorn and the others kept taking his words as child tantrums.

"That is why I killed my brothers!" she said to herself from the bench she was sitting, sipping the ale from her mug.

"And how many brothers did you had to kill?" a deep voice asked coming from her back.

"Not many, I guess..." the other voice said close to the first.

Isa laugh.

"So, how many, young queen?" the first one insisted.

"My father had nine sons. Five were killed after his death and my sale. Four remained. I killed them, their women and their loyal people." she answered filling her mug again.

"Impressive." the first voice said.

"Not really, king Harald, not really!" she took a sip.

"Why not really, young queen?" and he sat beside her.

"I wish I could have killed the nine. What they did to my father and to my mother is still unforgiving!" she looked at him.

"Ivar is a lucky bastard for have claimed a woman like you. Not Viking, but still Viking!" the other man said sitting beside his brother.

"I belong only to myself." she cutted him quickly.

King Harald laughed.

"And now I see what captivated the attention of the youngest of the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok!" he said.

"Not only the youngest!" Halfdan added.

"All I know is that this bullshit between them will end up in death. Five fools united but yet apart. Shame!" she sighed before turn her ale down the throat.

The two men giggled.

"Tell me, king, did your fair lady forgive you yet?" she asked now drinking from the jug before giving him a piercing gaze.

He looked at her in surprise.

"How do you know?" he retorted suspicious.

"It is known that you killed her husband... Or will still kill? I am a little confuse now..." and she frown searching for more ale in the bottom of the jug.

"I did nothing!" he answered sipping from his cup.

"So you shall be warned. Lovers shall be together by this time tomorrow, but there shall be weeping before the night cover us with her cloak; beware then!" she spoke before burp and stand up.

The young queen, who was still thirsty, left behind the two men. Then, she walked with the intention of finding more ale, or wine, or mead. She had this urge for drinking - maybe her demons were waking up.

Later that day, before Isa pass out completely drunk in her tent, she heard that King Harald had buried his axe in the forehead of Princess Ellisif's husband.

"I told it!" she said before falling in her bed, passing out.

Isa awoke in the middle of the dawn with blue eyes looking from beside her.

"For fuck's sake, Ivar!" she shouted out punching him in the face as a reflex.

She saw the blood run down his nose.

"Why so scared, witch?" he asked touching the red under his nose.

"I am not scared. We are invading a new land, therefore I expect the folk to try to stop us!" and she sat in her bed edge.

Her mouth was dry.

"Neró! Water!" she said looking all over the tent trying to find the goatskin with the clean and fresh liquid.

Ivar then handed her what she was looking for. Isa drank all the water inside the goatskin in long sips.

"Go to sleep!" she ordered him after yawn.

"I cannot sleep. It is like there are thorns all over me, poking me all the time!" he said as an excuse.

"Liar." she laughed "Come, but just sleep. Tomorrow the day will be a pain in the ass!"

And he laid beside her, waiting for her to do the same.

"Come!" he said patting the bed beside him.

"I need to piss first!" and she went outside to the woods.

When she returned to her tent, she saw Ivar wearing only the light tunica he wore under his leather armor - he was waiting her quite slumberous. Isa then laid close to him, embracing his chest, bringing him even closer. The sleep found her again.

Ivar awoke alone in the bed. His first thought was that he was no longer interesting enough for the queen; that she have found a new one, maybe king Harald. He felt some cold grow within him while his morning thoughts made him paranoid. After getting properly dressed, he left the greek tent and crawled to his family table, so he could have his first meal.

"You know where your slave is?" Sigurd asked coming from nowhere, ready to sit on the other side of the table.

"You know where your balls are?" he retorted acid.

"They are fine and working between my legs. What about yours, little brother?" he insisted in a mocking tone.

"Don't you have to suck some dicks along the camp? Our alliance depends on your talents too, brother!" and he laughed sarcastic.

"At least I do not have sick relationships with wicked witches that resemble our dead mother!" Sigurd then stood up with an impish grin on his face.

Ivar, by instinct, searched for some sharp thing to throw in his brother, but Sigurd was gone by the time he grabbed his axe.

Isa was right, death was surrounding the five brothers.

By the noon, Isa came back alone pulling her horse, for in its back there was a huge hog bleeding by its throat. She left before the sunrise just to hunt with only a knife. Both her hair and face were covered in blood, for she had covered herself as a sort of ritual.

"Look at the size of it!" Ubbe said astonished and smiling.

"A hog as fat as its king!" she said somewhat mischievous.

"And how did you killed it?" Hvitserk then approached to help her take the animal down.

Isa then showed him the knife in her belt.

"How?" he asked curious.

"The hog thought he was safe, then he stepped in my trap and I cut his throat. Just as simple as that!" she answered just about to open the animal's chest and take its heart.

After take the heart, she bit it, squirting blood everywhere. Everybody looked at her with their eyes wide open.

"What?" she asked guiltless, still chewing.

"You... You are..." Hvitserk stuttered.

"Why are you eating the hog's heart still raw?" Ubbe questioned giving voice to everybody's doubts.

"I killed it in cold blood. It is a sign of respect to eat the prey's heart still beating and bleeding. Its strength is mine now!" and she gave it another bite, making the blood runs down her chin.

She was the form of the death covered in blood the way she were. But, for some of them, she resembled a goddess, just like her people claimed her to be. She was powerful, ruthless, tameless, strong and fearless. Although, she was still fair and beautiful; seductive as the dancing fire - carrier of the light. She was unique.

"Take the hog as a gift!" she said when she saw Bjorn walking towards them.

Isa felt some fear grow inside the man. Fear and curiosity.

"Kalí órexi! Enjoy your food!" she spoke with a grin before starting to walk.

Ivar was the last one to see her. Crawling, he stopped and stared her from head to toes, feeling something grow inside him. When he decided to speak, she just deviated from him, for she was thirsty more than never and a servant was waiting her with a full amphora. Ivar thought he was beholding a sight of Valhalla.

Isa ate the whole heart drinking wine. She was a little tired, but nothing that some rest would not take care. She was not herself since the castle of Aelle.

By the afternoon, while Isa was cleaning herself, she heard a turmoil happens close to king Harald's tent. She knew what was happening.

"Two lovers now reunited once more!" she said almost fully immersed in her tub.

With the night almost there, Isa decided to walk in the surroundings of the camp. She felt the presence of the death even after Halfdan kills princess Ellisif. The cold followed her and a vision came by. It was the strongest and the longest she ever had. Her body was pure heat, as hot as the fire.

She was found fainted in the wet ground a short time after by Hvitserk, who was walking aimlessly after drinking too much. He carried the torrid body to her tent, carefully to not harm her or burn himself.

"Isa?" he called putting her in the bed.

"Ivar is... He is calling the death by the name. Beware!" she said with tears in her eyes before opening them.

"What?" he asked confuse.

"Death is on the way of one of you. I fear for the five of you, for the gods have already spoken. And I fear I cannot dispel the token of death!" and she sat while looking in the soul of the young man.

He shivered.

"But we do not fear death. We are vikings, this is how we live for!" he said getting back to himself.

"I know it. However, death should not walk among you. It is not the right time, for the future reserves the glory for each one of you! Beware, son of Ragnar!" and she wiped the tears of her face "And thank you!"

Isa then kissed the man's cheek as a sign of gratitude. She felt him shiver once again. By instinct, he kissed her lips tenderly, contrary to what she had thought. In a normal condition, she would have pushed him away, but something inside her insisted to pull him closer.

His kiss was something she never tasted before. It was warm, tender and yet full of desire and curiosity. She wanted him. Therefore, she slid her hands to the back of his head and grabbed his long hair with a little strength.

"By the gods, what are we doing?" she whispered between the kiss.

"Ivar won't care!" he said in the same tone while seeking for her mouth.

"He will kill you..." and she kissed him, pulling him to her.

His hands were softer than the hands of his brother. While Ivar was the tempest, Hvitserk was the lull.

"I promised to Ivar that he would be the first, I'm sorry!" she said taking a breath.

"You never..."

"He shall be the first. The gods have spoken!" she interrupted him touching their foreheads "After that I can do what I want!"

She smiled looking at his lips with a glare.

"I am sure that we both will glance at paradise when we touch again!" she kissed him again before showing him the exit.

"I will wait for it, be sure of it!" and he left.

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

Prompt: Sterek ;) Derek woos his mate the wolf way. :D

This is one of my favorite tropes! So glad I got to write it! Also on ao3!

Stiles wished he could say it was the first time he had found a dead animal on his doorstep. He really did. But it wasn’t.

For the past few days, five in a row to be exact, he had found all sorts of small, fluffy little woodland animals lying dead and bloody on his front porch. They ranged from squirrels, their furry tails soaked in blood, to birds, their feathers strewn around the doormat, to rabbits, who apparently were not fast enough to outrun whoever or whatever was leaving them on the front stoop.

Initially, he had thought it was one of their neighbor’s cats, the old woman a few houses down who owned a veritable army of feline companions having recently procured two more cat cadets. But on the fourth day, he had walked out of the house to check if they had gotten any mail only to find a large raccoon with its throat slashed open, blood seeping out onto the doormat that they had just replaced.

No matter how fierce those cats were, he doubted they could do such gruesome damage. And so, he had begun considering other culprits who may have been leaving the dead animals.

It had started with a dead bird, a blue jay lying on the top step of their front porch. Stiles had found it while leaving for school in the morning, taking a few minutes out of his morning rush to bury the poor thing in the front yard before heading off to school. He figured it had simply keeled over in exhaustion, no obvious injuries save for a few molted feathers, and moved on.

The next day he had found two dead squirrels, deep claw marks raked down their sides, on the front porch. He had wrinkled his nose at the grisly sight, running back inside to grab a plastic bag to shove them in before tossing them into another shallow grave by the blue jay. That was when he began having the sneaking suspicion that a cat was responsible for the morbid little deliveries.

The day after the squirrels, he found the rabbit. Its throat was open, a hole about the size of a cat’s mouth oozing bright scarlet blood onto the doormat, absolutely ruining it. Groaning, and internally cursing crazy cat people, Stiles held his nose and cleaned up the scene, again burying the poor victim and dumping the doormat into their trash can.

The raccoon was next, sullying the new welcome mat that Stiles had picked up after his last class the day before. Curiously inspecting the raccoon, finding wounds too large to have been inflicted by a cat, Stiles had reached another, new conclusion ― there was some new supernatural threat in Beacon Hills and it was killing poor, defenseless animals and dumping them on Stiles’ porch.

Why he didn’t know, but it was the only feasible thing he could think of. He had taken his theory to others, asking around to see if anyone else had noticed anything strange lately. No one else had.

He had gone to Deaton at the vet clinic to ask if he had any information about anything weird going on with any of the local animals. Deaton had denied that anything unusual was going on with any animals, neither domestic or otherwise, for once actually foregoing any cryptic responses. Though, he did mention that parvo was more common than usual that year.

After talking to Deaton, he went to Chris Argent, figuring the ex-hunter would have information on any supernatural goings-on that Deaton did not know about. Argent didn’t know anything either, indulging Stiles’ curious nature and patiently answering his strange inquisitions with as much patience as someone who had been woken up at four thirty a.m. could muster.

Afterward, he had dropped in to visit his dad at the station, hoping that it wasn’t just happening to them, even though it would be just his luck. The Sheriff let him rifle through recent reports of strange, out of the ordinary activities but all he found were reports filed about suspicious looking teenagers hanging around outside of local convenience stores. There had been no reports of rabies, either, dashing another one of Stiles’ theories.

And, of course, he had gone to the pack as soon as he began to suspect that the dead animals may have a more sinister origin than simply falling prey to some pet cat roaming the neighbor. No one in the pack had noticed anything amiss, no supernatural threats or random dead animals on any doorsteps.

Peter had made some snide little comment about Valentine’s Day coming up soon, pointing out that Stiles probably had a psychopathic secret admirer who thought that leaving dead animals on his porch was the epitome of romance. With Stiles’ luck, it was a disturbingly real possibility, one he wouldn’t discount.

The other betas had dissolved into a bout of raucous laughter, even Boyd chuckling under his breath at the comment, but Stiles hadn’t been very amused. Rolling his eyes at the remark, Stiles had noticed that the tips of Derek’s ears had been burning bright red, a sure sign that the alpha was blushing at something. Probably due to secondhand embarrassment, Stiles figured.

Now, there he was, standing on his front porch in his Spiderman pajamas, looking down at that day’s little ‘gift’ ― a twelve point buck, lying dead on the walkway in front of the porch, a large hole in its chest. Ripped out of the buck’s ripped, its bloody heart lay on the front porch just inches from his bare foot, a single red rose laid beside it.

He almost threw up.

Holding back gags, feeling the bile rise in his throat as his eyes watered, Stiles pulled his phone out of the pocket of his pajama pants and dialed Derek’s number, fumbling a few times while typing in the digits. He tapped his foot while waiting for Derek to pick up the phone, hoping the werewolf had his cell phone on him, aware of the fact that he sometimes left it at the loft when he went for his morning run through the preserve.

“Hello?” Derek answered a moment before the call would have gone to voicemail, voice rough and gravelly with sleep. Stiles sighed gratefully at the sound of Derek’s voice, relief washing over him.

“There’s another,” Stiles reported pitifully, a whine in his voice as he lamented his situation, hands clutching his phone tighter. With a disgusted glance at the deer’s carcass, he felt his stomach turn, desperately relaying, “Dude, it’s a deer this time. A fucking deer! I just― I think I’m gonna be sick… Can you come over and help take care of this? Please?”

“Sure,” Derek replied evenly, his tone calm and placating like he was trying to soothe a frantic animal. Given Stiles’ panicked state, the comparison wasn’t all that far off, in fact, it was actually rather fitting considering the situation. He was drawn out of his musings when Derek tacked on a weary, “Just give me a minute. I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you,” Stiles breathed in relief, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as he listened to Derek hang up. Shivering when he accidentally made eye contact with the dead buck, Stiles slipped back inside, infinitely glad that it was Saturday and he wouldn’t be missing any school because of his theoretical psycho secret admirer.

He waited patiently by the front window in the kitchen, sitting perched on the edge of the counter by the sink, swinging his legs over the side of the counter as he chewed his nails down to the quick while waiting for Derek to get there. He was so fixated on watching the street in front of the house for Derek’s Camaro, still frazzled from the ghastly sight on the porch, that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard his dad walk into the kitchen behind him and greet, “Morning, son.”

Flailing and tumbling off the edge of the counter, Stiles squawked in surprise and pure, visceral fear, for a split second terrified that whoever, or whatever, had been leaving the dead animals had somehow gotten into the house. He had been watching too many horror movies lately, it was making him paranoid. Well, more paranoid than usual.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He gasped in shock, clutching a hand to his chest as his dad muffled his amused laughter behind the back of his hand, shoulders shaking as he watched his son straighten up to stand on shaky legs. Running a hand through his hair, Stiles whipped his head around to glare at his father who was still laughing, snapping at him, “A little warning next time!”

“Didn’t know I needed to warn you when I walk into the room,” his dad snarked, crossing the room to open one of the wood cabinets above the linoleum countertop, grabbing a mug for his morning coffee. He visibly stifled a yawn as he shuffled over to their old coffee maker, a steaming pot of strong roast ready courtesy of Stiles who could barely go two straight days without caffeine, pouring himself a cup. Taking a sip of his black coffee, he asked, “So, we get a new one today?”

Stiles just nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face, not wanting to go into particular detail about the utterly lovely scene on their front lawn. Just thinking about it was enough to make him feel a bit queasy. Sighing, he simply claimed, “Yeah. Derek’s coming over to help me deal with it.”

“That why he’s parked out front looking like he’s here to pick you up for the prom?”

“What?” Stiles mumbled, turning his back around to peer out the kitchen window, indeed seeing Derek’s unmistakable Camaro parked out front, sleek black paint job shining in the morning sun. Sitting in the driver’s seat, Derek was fiddling with the steering wheel, looking like he was psyching himself up to tackle some unconquerable task.

Stiles figured the werewolf had caught sight of the bloody body of the buck and was a little bit horrified by the needless bloodshed. Though, why seeing a dead deer would have a bigger effect on him than seeing the dead bodies of the various supernatural creatures they slayed, Stiles didn’t know.

Steeling himself for seeing said dead deer again, Stiles saluted his dad and made his way to the front door, slipping out into the porch to greet Derek. Adamantly avoiding looking at the dead ungulate, Stiles waved Derek over, sure he was even paler than usual if that was somehow possible.

Derek climbed out of the Camaro, rounding it to jog up the front walk until he reached the dead deer, accidentally stepping into a pool of coagulated blood. He looked down at the buck with an indecipherable expression, no emotion whatsoever on his face, even his eyes blank.

After a long moment of painfully awkward silence, both of them staring at the slain deer’s lifeless body, Derek raised his head to look at Stiles. Voice gruff, he demanded, “You don’t like it?”

Wait, what? Was Derek seriously asking him if he liked the dead deer some crazy wacko had left on his doorstep? Seriously? Stiles’ voice revealed his incredulity as he gaped, “Of course, I don’t like it! It’s a dead deer for god’s sake! Who in their right mind would like it?! I mean, the rose and the heart were a nice touch but― That’s not the point! The point is, no, I don’t like it! Are you crazy?!”

“You could’ve just said you didn’t like it,” Derek growled out, curling his hands into fists at his side as he glowered at Stiles, a scowl planted firmly on his lips. “You didn’t have to insult me.”

“What?!” Stiles screeched, eyes wide as he gawked at Derek, his mind running a mile a minute as he tried to decipher how exactly he had managed to offend Derek. Eyes darting between Derek and the dead deer, Stiles groaned, “Insult you?! How the fuck did I insult you?! I just don’t like waking up to dead animals on my front porch! How in the hell is that insulting to you―” he cut himself off, pausing as the realization dawned on him “―Oh my god. You. It’s you.”

Ducking his head, ears burning again, Derek nodded silently and scuffed the tip of his shoe against the dirt in the front lawn, nearly kicking the dead deer. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and continued sulking, a frown on his face as he glared down at the buck as though it had done something awful to him.

Stiles broke the awkward silence by softly asking, “But why…?”

“It was supposed to be romantic,” Derek grit out in a growl, every word sounding like it pained him more than the last, a deep crease between his brows as he refused to meet Stiles’ eyes for even a second. Running a rough hand through his hair, Derek squeezed his eyes shut and accused, “But you humans are weird! You do things―” he paused in frustration as though wrestling with his choice of words, eventually snarling, “―different!”

“Romantic? Different?” Stiles repeated to himself, frowning as he attempted to figure out just what the hell Derek meant. Jaw nearly dropping a moment later when another realization struck him, he squeaked, “Wait, have you been trying to woo me? With dead animals?!”

“Yes,” Derek spat, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Brows still drawn together, he elaborated, “It’s how werewolves court each other! It shows we can provide for each other. Can take of each other.”

“Oh my god, you’re such an idiot,” Stiles sighed fondly, rolling his eyes at Derek’s utter stupidity. Bracing himself with a deep breath before he could over-think his next move, he stepped over the deer, just barely avoiding stepping into a large puddle of blood, to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck and tug him into a kiss.

Derek was slow to respond, Stiles stuck kissing a pair of rigid, unmoving lips until he did. Stiles was about to pull away, worried he might have somehow misread things, despite the fact that Derek had very clearly confirmed he had been wooing him, when Derek finally kissed him back.

Unfolding his arms, he slipped them around Stiles’ waist to reel him in a little closer, molding their bodies together with a soft sound of satisfaction in the back of his throat. Stiles smiled into the kiss at Derek’s eagerness, relaxing into the werewolf’s strong arms, trusting Derek to hold him up.

Gently scraping his fingers over the back of Derek’s neck, Stiles deepened the kiss a bit, gingerly sweeping the tip of his tongue over Derek’s bottom lip, hoping he wasn’t moving too fast. Derek hummed, tightening his hold on Stiles’ waist while he opened his mouth to flick his tongue against Stiles’, nibbling his lower lip.

Before things could get too out of hand, Stiles itching to bury his fingers in Derek’s hair and really kiss him, he realized that they were standing in the middle of his front lawn at six a.m., kissing each other beside the lifeless body of a slaughtered deer. Pulling back a little bit, pressing his forehead against Derek’s to let him know that he wasn’t going anywhere, Stiles fondly sighed, murmuring, “Y’know, chocolates and flowers would’ve worked just fine.”

“Duly noted,” Derek smirked, moving in for another, deeper kiss. Stiles rolled his eyes but accepted the kiss anyway, eyes falling closed as he melted into Derek’s arms even more.

Hopefully, this would be the last time he found a dead animal on his doorstep. But with Derek, he wasn’t holding his breath.

💕VALENTINE’S DAY FIC GIVEAWAY💕

[ravenhoodoo]

The truth you need to believe (2/6)

Survived exams but the procrastination fic is still going strong anyhow.

A thick layer of dust coated the inside of the warehouse, the absence of footprints damning for their mission. Reaper restrained the urge to scream in frustration. There had been a lot of empty warehouses over the past month. Empty warehouses where instead there should have been plentiful enemies. Every mission a missed opportunity. He has a moment of guilt, thinking about the mission in terms of people to feed off. Monster . It's just been...too long. The gnawing hunger pains never really stop anymore, in competition with the constant pain of regeneration. They’ve become more prominent, restricting the amount of thought Reaper can put towards the mission, both Talon’s and his. He needs to feed, soon. The thought that it should not have been so long adds to his growing unease. Is Talon still testing him? Testing his limits, how weak the lack of killing makes him? Perhaps calculating the ratio of man to monster? Or do they want him weak for other reasons? After all Talon assets are infinitely more loyal than Talon mercenaries.

The ingrate’s continual presence does nothing to belay that nagging suspicion. For every dead end where Reaper feels his frustration and hunger grow, the ingrate seems to take the hit without flinching. Like he knows why they found nothing. Like he knew before they got there. He’d almost voiced his suspicions at the last warehouse, had let slip that either Talon’s intelligence was slacking or something was wrong. The ingrate had just laughed before asking, “Anyone ever tell you, you’re paranoid?”

“Anyone ever tell you, you’re paranoid Gabe?” Jesse asked, curling up on Gabe’s chest. His fingers stroking gently through Gabe’s hair. And Gabe had said-

Reaper had walked off without responding. Which had probably been the ingrate’s intention. Two trips later and he still hasn’t fed, still hasn’t gotten a single straight answer from the ingrate. Not that that is out of the ordinary. He hasn’t gotten a straight answer from that man since the moment they’d been introduced. Smiling from behind Jesse’s empty eyes.

The ingrate comes up besides him now, looking vaguely apologetic. Reaper still isn’t sure if he’s actually capable of that emotion. “Orders are to regroup at the hotel in thirty, no stops.” Reaper closes his eyes, another pang in his stomach in response to the news. It’s not going to work but he has to-

“You never used to be so strict about orders. We’re finally in a big city, we could-”

“We cannot disobey direct orders,” said the ingrate without looking at Reaper. Just like he had the last few times Reaper had tried to conjole, threaten or otherwise convince the ingrate to disobey orders. The monotone in his voice makes Reaper's frustration compete with nausea. Another thing that had been off the past month. Every time anything contradictory to direct orders came up, the ingrate shut it down. Hard. Reaper had thought he’d gotten off with a slap on the wrist for the London debacle. Apparently it had been that and some remedial brainwashing. Reaper swore at himself under his breath. He’d tried to think of anyway he could have salvaged the situation but- every scenario made things just as bad if not worse. The only real way he could have avoided the ingrate being punished was if he hadn’t been so stupid as to hesitate to begin with. Another mistake he’s made that Mccree paid the price for. Just how many times could you fuck over the one person? Jesse was right to leave, he just didn’t run far enough.

The ingrate hadn’t seemed to have held a grudge though. At least as far as Reaper could tell. Jesse had a good poker face before Talon did- whatever they did to him. Maybe that’s what this is. The ingrate’s subtle revenge. Starving him out. But no, he wouldn’t dare interfere with Talon’s direct orders like that. Couldn’t. The thought made Reaper sick. He thinks he’d rather if it were personal. He’d been too complacent, too unwilling to put that faraway look in the ingrate’s eyes. A little afraid of what would happen if the ingrate’s ‘direct orders’ were contradicted. But he needs to feed. The gnawing hunger more intense than he’d felt since he woke up. He’d go back to the hotel as ordered then sneak out in the night. Hunt for the guilty. Perhaps if he’d been willing to settle for any innocent it wouldn’t have gotten this bad but he was not that far gone. Will never be that far gone. He has to believe that.  

He nods to the ingrate and turns to leave the empty warehouse. The ingrate relaxes slightly at his acquiesce, no longer carrying a tension that is only noticeable in its absence. He sticks close. Has done through all these trips, this wild goose chase across the midwest. Talon’s orders no doubt.

He’s not yours anymore. He’s theirs.

They get to the hotel, the ingrate organising rooms while Reaper lingers in the shadows. He needs to keep out of sight, a wraith being a bit more suspicious than a cowboy here. He tries to hide his relief at having a chance to try and pull himself together. The trek from warehouse to here had been more exhausting than anticipated. Gentle wafts of smoke are coming away from him right now and he knows he’s running out of time. Needs to hunt soon. Since they’re technically at the hotel he could just leave right now without causing any contradiction in Mccree’s orders. No sooner than he thinks that, the ingrate is there holding the keys for two adjoined rooms. Soon. He just had to make it up the stairs, be away from Mccree’s sight. He doesn’t know why it's so important that he not disappoint Mccree. His thoughts feel slow. Like he’s losing wafts of brain matter in the smoke that surrounds him.

He feels Mccree’s hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards an armchair. Feels it connect more solidly when he doesn’t move at first. He- he thinks they caught the elevator up. Doesn’t recall for sure. Focus tunnel visioned on the hand on the small of his back. It’s so warm. It feels- he needs to feed. Before he kills the wrong person in his hunger. He’s not sure if he sits or falls but the chair is uncomfortable against his back. Cold. Inanimate.

“You okay?” Mccree asks. It’s clearly not the first time he’s asked. The concerned tilt of his brow would be more convincing if Reaper hadn’t seen the same expression on a hundred missions. With a hundred marks. Reaper more senses than sees Mccree’s flesh-and-blood hand comes towards his shoulder. That shining lifeforce, stronger than any other Reaper has seen. He ruthlessly suppresses the urge to take. To take everything. It doesn’t matter that it’s no longer Jesse. Reaper would rather die than be the cause of Jesse Mccree’s withered husk on the floor. He shudders and flinches back from the touch.

Mccree seems to take the hint and disappears from Reaper’s field of view. Probably to get Talon. You’ve left it too late. Reaper tries to ignore the thought. He’ll get up and hunt soon. He just-he just needs a moment to rest. More wafts of smoke are escaping him now. He needs to focus. To keep himself together. He blinks and somehow the minute hand of the clock has already completed half its circuit. He blinks again and it’s become dark. He’s not sure if it's because it’s nighttime or if the smoke is just obscuring his view. He needs to get up. Needs to feed on the life he can taste in the air. Needs to- Too late. Too late. The next he registers is a quiet murmur of voices coming closer. They’ve come they’ve come. Open your eyes. It’s a flickering thought, come and gone too quick for action. He feels his attention drift once more. Maybe I’ll finally understand what they did to Jesse. It’s what I deserve.

A hand touches his shoulder and suddenly he is awake again. He surges forward with little intent but to feed an all consuming hunger. Feels himself ripping the life force free from the body that contained it. There is screaming for a short moment, then silence. His eyes slowly focus in on the withered corpse on the floor. It takes an extra moment to register the hotel uniform.

“Glad I got him to touch you first boss. Looks like that might have hurt.” Reaper looks up in horror to see the ingrate a couple of paces back, for once his smile extending to his eyes.

It could have been him . I could have- who did I kill?

“What the fuck ingrate?” Reaper says, for once not even trying to hide his feelings. He’d have to know how he was feeling to do that. Relief? Revulsion? Full.

“Room service Gabe, surely you’ve heard of it?” the ingrate is still smiling, extending a metal arm as if to help Reaper off the floor. Reaper ignores it in favour of looking down at the husk below him again. Just a kid. Another innocent on the list . The bubbling anger he’s tried to suppress all month comes to the forefront now. He surges upward, limbs now solid and obeying his command.

“You and your bosses have been trying to stop me eating all month. Don’t fucking deny it. And now you, what? Force feed me a fucking innocent and expect me to be grateful???”

“I don’t know what you’re tal-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me ingrate. I’m sick of your fucking lies.” He’s sick of a lot of things. Sick of the way Talon keep testing him. The way he basically lives with an echo of his former love. Sick of death and lies and having absolutely nobody he can trust. Nobody to rely on. Reaper feels a pang of homesickness, not for Los Angeles, but the people of Overwatch who had his back. They’re all dead now. Dead or broken and remade like the man in front of him.

There is a look of consternation on the ingrate’s face. He looks to the corpse as well before giving Reaper a calculated look. After a moment he sighs, a decision clearly made. He turns to the stationary on a nearby desk and rummages for a pen as he continues to talk. “As I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I understand your frustration. We’ve had a few unlucky missions. It would be mighty hard to inhibit the diet of a man such as yourself. Perhaps if that man had not been so picky about what he eats there wouldn’t have been such a situation as what occurred here.”

The ingrate holds up the message he’s been working on at the desk. Stay furious. Bugs: fruit bowl, under the right bedside table - your room, above the window by the pot plant

Reaper finds himself suddenly flat footed. Righteous anger extinguished as his mind changes tracks into mission focus. Find bugs. Remove them. A third directive comes to him before he even starts to move. Make sure it's not Mccree’s fault

“You’re lying to me. You think I don’t know Talon is watching my every move???   You think I can’t sense those fucking electronics you lay out every night???” Reaper knocks the full fruit bowl to the ground, taking some pleasure in how it shatters. It’s been a long couple of months. The little electronic device crushes easily under his boot. First bug destroyed.

“I was willing to put up with some tests for the sake of taking down Overwatch, was willing to be partnered up with the likes of you but if this is how Talon treats its employees…” Second bug gone. Mccree rolls his eyes and gestures for Reaper to get on with it. Reaper takes some pleasure in watching him dodge when Reaper throws the bedside table from the bedroom to the living room. It hits the wall near Mccree’s head. He shrugs philosophically and stomps down on the remains, contributing to the general sounds of destruction.  

“I will have the respect I deserve! From them and from you ingrate. No more tests. No more wild goose chases. I will destroy Overwatch, with or without you!” Possibly too melodramatic but the grin on Mccree’s face is the realest he’s seen since...well a couple of months before everything went to shit. For a moment Reyes forgets the realities of their situation. It just feels too much like that time in Amsterdam where they got followed back to their hotel and had to fake a domestic and then noisy make-up sex until the men left in disgust. Well, the domestic was fake… Reaper shatters the pot plant by the window first, hoping it gives whoever is listening a headache before finally reaching for and destroying the third bug. He turns to survey the destruction of the room but the corpse on the floor destroys any fun he had been having. This isn’t Blackwatch. And the man in front of him isn’t Jesse.

Mccree follows his gaze, his smile becoming strained. They stand in silence for a moment, neither really willing to break the fragile peace they had established. Surprisingly Mccree breaks it first.

“You probably have about twenty minutes before they come to check if you killed me Ghost. Whatever you want, better make it fast.” Ghost . Reaper decided to ignore the pang in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it hurt more or less than the ingrate calling him Gabe. Now that they were finally alone he felt overwhelmed by the amount of things he wanted to ask. Needed to know. You’re wasting time.

The remains of the third bug are still crushed in his hand. He could start there. “You placed this right?”

“Yes. I cannot disobey direct orders,” Mccree said formally.  Reaper fought the shudder that came with those words. What the fuck had Talon done to him? Focus .

“Right. But protecting them…” He tried to keep his words vague. Who was to say if there were more bugs that Mccree didn’t know about. Or didn’t tell Reaper about.

“That’s more implied than direct.” So he only had to obey the letter not the spirit of the order. Reaper could work with that. Provided this wasn’t all orchestrated so that Mccree could earn his trust. Work with what you have. Work with what you have.

“Why have Talon been trying to starve me?” Reaper asked, deciding to start with the most pressing question.

“Well it just seems an awful shame somebody starving themselves through picky eating. Maybe that person just can’t be trusted with their own decisions and needs a helping hand.”

Translation: Talon likes assets, not mercenaries. But only if they can get away with it . Reaper couldn’t say he was surprised.

Mccree continued, “Take for instance this fella. Worried sick about the sick old skeleton in the corner. Weird a room service fella would do that, let me tell ya. He was of half a mind to go get a gurney,” Mccree kicked the corpse absent mindedly, “Don’t much matter now with you feeling better and him being dead.”

He was Talon? No, that wouldn’t- If the man was Talon, then they had been planning to take him today. Probably to turn him into another asset. Mccree knew that when hungry Reaper can take a soul through touch which means if the man was Talon, Mccree must have set him up. Or if the man was just some poor smuck then Mccree must have called room service. Which would mean Reaper had killed an innocent and Mccree had still disrupted Talon’s plans. There was something missing and Reaper still felt a little too addled to put it all together. He knew better than to trust this version of Mccree’s better nature. Jesse is gone. And the ingrate is a liar.

“You could have orchestrated all this yourself. In order to get me to trust you.” Reaper could swear he saw Mccree’s smile slip for a second before returning. He wasn’t sure if even the micro expression was real.

Anyone ever tell you, you’re paranoid Gabe?

“That’s not a question Gabe. And you’re running out of time,” Mccree said. He pointedly turned towards the clock. Reaper tried not to glare too hard. It was an implied question. Direct orders. Direct questions . Reaper wasn’t sure he liked being treated like a Talon handler. No scratch that. He knew he hated it.

“Just-just tell me why’d you help me?” Reaper asked. He would not let Mccree get to him.  

“Job security. Talon doesn’t need more assets. Widow and I do just fine.” Mccree was still staring at the clock. Reaper wasn’t sure what it meant that he could recognise one of Jesse’s old tells in the stillness. He never had before.

“That might be a reason but that’s not why.” Reaper felt his teeth starting to grind involuntarily. One straight answer Je-Mccree. Just one and I can leave you alone.

“Oh? How can you tell?” Mccree had turned to face him, the challenge written all over his face. An unspoken “You want to play? Well fine.”

I can’t. I’m guessing. Reaper tried not to lose his patience. “Just tell me the truth. What do you get from all this? What do you want?”

“I’m one of Talon’s dogs of war. We don’t want anything but Talon’s continuous prosperity,” Mccree pauses, pondering for a moment, “maybe some amusement to relieve the monotony. Luckily you’re amusing. All those contradictions. A founder of Overwatch, working for their destroyers.”

“I hate Overwatch. They did this to me.” Reaper remembers interrogating Jesse at 17. He’d already known how to obfuscate, dance around the damn answer and pull you where he wanted you to go. Twenty years later and he was a fucking nightmare.

“Did they?” Mccree asked with a knowing tone. Reaper hated it. “Yes, much like they did this to me, I guess. I hated them too for a time. Hated you all for leaving me behind. Leaving me to my fate. But you need to be careful Reyes. You still feel. You know Talon would take that away if they could. Leave you unfeeling. Like me.”

“I'm not him. I'm just his ghost.”

“We're all ghosts here darlin’. All liars too.” Reaper tries not to let anything show in the face of Mccree’s smirk. What the hell does he think he knows? “You may be a ghost but Gabriel Reyes: Blackwatch commander, he’s still in there. Still seeking logic where there is none. Trying to categorise people. Trying to categorise yourself. Trying to categorise me. God you’ve been trying to categorise me for years.”

“Not you. You’re not him.” Reaper would not believe them the same. Not after the innocents he’d seen this Mccree kill. As for himself, well. Before the explosion, before all the pain Talon and Overwatch had caused him, he liked to believe he was a good man. Once.

“There you go again. I’m just Jesse, stripped to the core darlin’. And you’re just Gabe after a series of really REALLY unfortunate events. They took my feelings, not my thoughts. You think I don’t know you?”

“At the core Jesse was a good man.” And I am not the man you remember.

“Nah, at your core you loved him. Which means you’ll never be able to reconcile how he became me. It’s beautiful to watch, I wouldn’t want Talon to take that away. Think of the joy you’d be depriving me of if you became their asset. I mean so much as I can still feel joy.”

Reyes wants to believe him, he does but- he can’t help but ask, “How can I trust you?”

There was real frustration in Mccree’s eyes now. At least Reaper thought it was real. “Now who’s the damn ingrate. I’m taking a lot more risks here than you are Gabe. There could be more bugs. I could be reeducated for telling you anything. What do you risk asshole? How can you trust me? How the fuck can I trust you?”

He was right to be angry. He was in a lot more danger for messing with Talon’s plan than Reaper was. If he was telling the truth. If

“Just...Just give me one true answer. Just tell me something I can believe.”

Mccree gritted out a reply, “Fine. I lied to you before. When I said I’m unfeeling. Sometimes I feel angry. Feel furious. Does that count?”

At Talon? At Overwatch? At me? It may have been the only straight answer Reaper had ever gotten out of this Mccree and he couldn’t bring himself to ask further. Was afraid Mccree would tell him the answer.

Time was running out. “So what are you going to tell them?”

“After the mission was a bust you got so awfully angry. Something was wrong. I called room service. Now depending on what you believe, this may or may not have been a signal to summon the nearest Talon agent. The good man Harold came to the door and I asked him to leave the food just inside. But Harold saw you were weak. Or maybe he was just a young man full of concern. Either way he put his hand on your shoulder and well you know the rest. You just got so furious that you decided to destroy all the bugs in the room. Probably something Talon will consider next time. Not that there should be a next time. I mean somebody died because you were hungry. Pretty dangerous to cause that again, don’t you think? How’d I do, could you tell when I was lying?”

No. No I couldn’t. “And when they ask what we talked about?”

“Well I tell them you tried to interrogate me on what Talon was up to and as was my way, I led you on a merry chase for answers that delivered none. They’ll believe me, I mean some of these poor suckers had to interrogate me when I was first captured and well...twenty minutes ain’t nothing on that.”

And then what did they do to you?   Reaper had a million more questions and no time. He felt a distinct level of empathy for those Talon interrogators and then horror at the thought. Mccree had given him little to no straight answers after all this time. Maybe he’d forgotten how? Talon could already be listening by now. He could have just killed another innocent. Talon surely would have known not to touch him though...unless Mccree didn’t tell them.

“Were you lying? I need to know,” Reaper asks in desperation knowing there is no real time left.

Mccree settles down on the couch. He no longer seems angry. No longer seems much of anything. “No you don’t. You just want to. It doesn’t matter. Believe the truth you need to believe.”

He wants to believe in Mccree. More than anything. Wants to believe Jesse was still in there and that's why he’d been saved above any job security or amusement. Wants to believe that it wasn’t all a Talon trick for Mccree to gain his trust. But needs to believe?

“Anyone ever tell you, you’re paranoid Gabe?” Jesse asked, curling up on Gabe’s chest. His fingers stroking gently through Gabe’s hair. And Gabe had said, “It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you.”

And look what happened to them.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Purple Rain prt 18 full

Forest. Forest as far as Lance could see and he was loving it. Keith was camping under the wing of the jet Krolia had lent them, while Lance had happily strung up his own tent away from him, closer to the clearing's edge where he was able to survey everything from the nice little tree that had easy to climb branches. Keeping to his end of the bargain, Keith had spent a lot of his time hanging back at his campsite across the clearing, Lance venturing over when he felt like it, or for dinner, or to sleep at night. Keith was paranoid. Paranoid that some great big mystery animal was going to eat Lance in the middle of the night. Day naps were acceptable, with Kosmo there for cuddles, but night meant sleeping in Keith's arms. They'd failed at sleeping further apart. The first two attempts resulting in Keith octopusing his way across the foot or so between them, in order to capture and cage him in his hold.

Before leaving for the training planet, Krolia had forced them to have a "family meeting", her words sticking in Lance's brain. Lance was only allowed on off-world Blade missions on the provider that he stuck to his medication and followed the "no comms" rule when it was in play. He loved that Krolia was proud of her son, that she trusted him and his skill as she reiterated repeatedly between apologising for not remembering that the outpost didn't play by standard time rules, yet he didn't love that his husband had told her he wouldn't take his medication. That felt like Keith crossing the line and breaking his trust all over again. A feeling akin to finding out Krolia knew his darkest secrets relating to Klearo. If she ever found out that he was a recovering drug addict... Shiro knowing was bad enough... Lance had the feeling that Krolia knowing would be a lot like Shiro knowing. Knowing without knowing. Knowing without feeling those compulsions or desires. Passing judgment as if quitting was the easiest accomplishment attainable. So he'd lied. He'd agreed. Anything to make the conversation come to an end. Keeping busy had helped clear his head. No crowds meant no unknown enemies coming for him. The lack of running water sucked, the scanners not picking up a fresh supply in the immediate area, but when Acxa brought Keith's ship to regroup with them, they'd be able to shower then. He was currently 3 quintants seizure and panic attack free. His morning sickness was still kicking his arse, so was his fatigue, but he was so quiznakking proud of the mission he'd designed for Keith's team. With Kosmo at his side, his husband had loosened the invisible collar around his neck. Though unimpressed by the pair of them disappearing for vargas at a time with just a backpack and a holopad, Keith didn't try to stop him. Lance was sure his husband would if he knew the number of high places he'd frequented since their arrival. But what kind of team challenge would it be if it wasn't designed to test individual and team strengths?

* Giving in to his bodily urges, Lance was still a little tender when Acxa landed Keith's ship in the clearing near the jet they'd borrowed. His husband had told him he was scared over him being in the field, and that he'd have an answer for him by the time the movement was over. Lance didn't like to mention that he was kind of heartbroken that Keith had spent quintants thinking and still couldn't come to a clear conclusion over what they were going to do. His husband still loved him, still wanted to be with him, but what came next hinged on the success of this training mission. He was due right before Hunk's wedding... To him, the clear choice would be to return to the outpost for a movement or two, just enough to speed the pregnancy along... or even weekends. After pouring blood, sweat, and tears into getting the place into something functional, he wasn't prepared to walk away. Keith was his precious husband... but he was sure with how suspicious Keith had been over Krystaal, that his husband harboured feeling deeper than friendship for the man. That's what he wanted him to work out. He wanted Keith to work out that he did, then he wanted his husband to choose him. He'd given him the option to decide to walk away. Doing so would break Lance beyond words, but keeping Keith and forcing him to suffer... He couldn't live with that either. He wasn't proud of spreading his legs for his husband. He hadn't wanted to while Keith's feelings were so up in the air. Yet all the hormones coursing through his system had him waking up so wet between his legs, he'd soaked Keith's sweats with the slick substance he produced. Keith's hands were all over him the moment his husband woke, Lance nearly crying as Keith massaged at his small budding breasts, his nipples so tender that the slightest touch burned. With no one around, beneath the red sky of the planet, Keith had fucked him until the pleasure turned to pain, and his hips felt dislocated. Covered in fresh lovebites and limping, his uncomfortableness left Zethrid and Ezor in stitches as he tried to salvage some of his "reputation", which had fallen to land somewhere beneath the purple leaf litter, then sunk down into the unseen topsoil.

Acxa had delivered them an angry message from Veronica over him departing from Altea without telling her or the others. Lance had told Shiro, Curtis and Coran, letting Krolia cover for them when it came to the others. It didn't mean his sister wasn't damn near-apocalyptic in the recording. He's said they'd talk... and they hadn't. She'd probably run to their mother, then he'd cop it from her... Ugh. The quiznakking mess the fallout was sure to bring was enough to make him seriously considering never returning home. Something he had been considering since he'd found out he was pregnant, and knew the aunties would most likely shun him to the point of him becoming taboo. Being bisexual was bad enough, or "gay" as their narrow minds labelled it. Love was love. Just because he loved someone with more of the same bits and pieces as him, didn't make him anything less. No. He was kind of less than human, but if Keith wanted his twins, then there was no way he was letting them start their lives being tainted due to the fact he was a walking abomination. The embodiment of sin... It was all a load of quiznakking crap anyway. He was soon to be 24. He needed to stand on his own two feet, or face being swept under someone's thumb and never realising any of his remaining dreams. Not that he had many of those. He wanted Keith to be happy. He wanted to see Shiro and Curtis wed. The same for Hunk and Shay. He wanted to see Daehra reach her goal, and see Lucteal ask Yule out on a proper date. He'd given up Zak, Tobias or Pidge ever marrying... though they'd both made progress on their prospective projects. If they combined their forces, they'd more than likely combine them for evil. Building the world's first sentient sex bot or something along those lines. A different kind of mail order bride, or groom, or robot... He didn't like to think ill of Tobias, he just lacked so many social skills.

Prewarned that Lance was their commander for the duration of their training camp, the first thing he did was order the others to make camp, as he sent Keith and Kosmo off to gather firework. Having arrived midday, it was more important they first "found" shelter, and orientated themselves in the clearing, so they'd be able to use telltale landmarks to find their ways back in they became lost during their adventure, than it was important to launch into training without being properly prepared. Safety came first. Maybe because Lance was scowling so fiercely, not wanting to the group of recruits to think of him as "Keith's kept woman", none of them took him all that seriously. Ezor giggling her head off. As annoying as it was, he didn't show his irritation or deviate from his mental plan. The moment the recruits had lined up in front of him at Ezor's command, he'd begun relaying information they'd need to complete their objecting. Krystaal seemed especially pissed at him. His arms crossed as he looked bored. Lance would have paid good GAC to see a bird shit on him as he talked, only, he hadn't seen that many birds that weren't on ground level... Unimpressed by the lack of cooperation, Lance snubbed the others as he rearranged Keith's sleeping area. Krolia had given him permission to run the training exercise, that should be all that mattered. Plus, he'd worked exceptionally hard to pull all of it off. With his mood souring as self-doubt began pouring in... He decided that when Kosmo came back, the pair of them were going to bed very early... with Keith.

Keith refused to let him go to bed early. His husband had done a good job collecting firewood, and with Kosmo acting too protective of him, growling at Acxa when she came to report that everyone had set up their sleeping areas. Not wanting to risk anyone being bitten by Kosmo again, Keith had insisted that they needed to spend the night near the recruits, so Kosmo could see they meant no harm. That was how Lance found himself sitting around the main campfire with the others, cuddled up in Keith's lap by mostly his own choosing. Keith was off the market... so he may have ever so slightly been staking his claim. Drifting in and out of the conversation, Lance spent most of his time mentally sizing each member up. There were 6 recruits, the only one polite enough to introduce herself had been Regetta, but that meant 4 snobby Galra that his anxieties were telling him weren't to trust... The number dropping to three when one of the male recruits managed to set himself on fire, despite being a good foot away from the fire itself, and not even looking at it when it happened. Now it seemed to him they were less like snobs, and more like quiznakking idiots... Which was all the better for his training plans... These idiots were going to have to work with Keith's main team if they had any hopes of advancement.

* Woken in the middle of the night with morning sickness, Lance crept up into Keith's ship feeling like he was some kind of thief. He wasn't used to the quiet and empty feeling, nor did he have the layout memorised, so simply decided to stick the rest of the night out sleeping on the bathroom floor, where Kosmo and Keith found him in the morning. With a hot shower under his belt, he felt better about facing the recruits. Keith had pampered him in the shower, massaging his aching shoulder's until he forgot he was mad him, and something suspiciously purr like wouldn't stop rumbling up from his chest. Stupid Keith and his stupid skilled hands... And extra stupid Keith for reminding him that he'd been neglecting to check in with mami and Jorge. Acxa had reported magnetic solar storms that would have made outside communications impossible anyway, so he didn't need the reminder anyway. Not when it would be a full week of peace that he was past due. If not for the up and down between him and Keith, the last 4 quintants were heavenly. He loved the forest. He loved how Keith's natural scent matched that of their campfire. This, whatever it was, was what he'd needed.

Breakfast was better than dinner had been, everyone seemed much more talkative with him, expanding the number of names lance knew when it came to the recruits. Regetta he’d decided he liked. Krytaal was a big fat nope. Legre, the idiot who’d set himself on fire was a bit of an airhead... Happy to wander around chasing invisible butterflies or something, until he tripped up over his own feet... Melda was the... He was friends with Legre by the same... specialness. They weren’t like the Blade members of the past at all. Or maybe because Kolivan and Krolia were so scary, Lance found them lacking. That wasn’t to say that Melda and Legre had no redeeming qualities at all, it was more a fact that they were yet to be seen... and because he was a mostly okayish person, he was going to keep his mouth quiet about their lacking “smarts” if they proved to be “dumb smart” like him.

Asking Zethrid to gather everyone for him, Lance stood as tall as he could. Though not the smallest of the group, he wanted to make himself at least seem like a credible threat. Clearing his throat, he would have kicked Keith in the shin if he could have. His husband having the audacity to snicker at his attempts at confidence. Pouting mentally, he wasn’t going to miss his chance at revenge when the time was right. Pointing at the two recruits he didn’t know, the others looked to them “You and you. Names” The smaller female Galra of the unnamed pair didn’t seem impressed over being singled out, holding her tongue. She wasn’t overly remarkable. If anything she looked like a cardboard cut out of a young Galra. The second Galra stepping forward to stand to attention. Lance now regretting singling her out. Saluting, then bowing deeply, Lance blinked at her rapidly as he tried to process her level of dedication “My name is Nerlo, sir! It is an honour to meet you, sir! I look forward to working with you, sir!”

Yelling at her feet. Lance mentally cringed. He wasn’t “sir”. He didn’t like being called “sir”. Looking the woman up and down as she straightened, Lance could pretty much see the stars in her eyes. Greaaaaat. Just fucking fantastic... Wait. No. He couldn’t let his annoyance show... Professional. He could be professional. It was just like... No. it wasn’t just like training Lucteal and Daehra. Or when they busted Zak out... If it was, things wouldn’t be so damn hard “Umm... Excellent energy, Nerlo, but why don’t we keep that for the course? You’re going to need all the energy you can get. Now, because your friend decided she’s going to glare at me, your name is gonna beeee... Rachel”

Acxa covered her face with her hands, a small groan escaping her lips. Zethrid and Ezor both snickered audibly, as Keith covered his mouth with his hands. As much as her like to say he wasn’t petty, “Rachel” had rubbed him the wrong way. When no one bothered to correct him, Lance gave an exaggerated shrug “Soooo. I’m Lance, Keith’s husband and Acxa’s brother in law, because she’s dating my sister and she’s like a sister to Keith... and saying it like that sounds creepy. Now. Krolia has given me full permission to test your skills however I please, then report back to her. Keith and I have been here for the last 4 quintants in preparation for this. However, Keith has no idea what’s about to happen. If you’d all like to get your comms out, I have mapped out the area in play. I’ve divided the course into four segments around the clearing... ya’ know what, it’s going to be easier if you’re looking at the map when I explain. I can’t just send you the map in a bulk message thanks to our friend the sun, so we have to do this the old way with cords”

Transferring his maps to Keith, Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor, they passed it along to the recruit. Lance wasn’t about to take the subtle bullying from ”Rachel”, as he refused to speak until she’d pulled up her map on her holopad. Smiling sickeningly sweetly, Lance continued as he manipulated his own map “Excellent. This looks good. So, because I’m not an arsehole, I took pity on you all. Using the standard specifics of the older model Cruisers that we encountered as Voltron, I took the area of the top three floors and drew my area boundary 3 miles long, so it runs parallel to the escarpment about 5 miles away... Now I’m distracting myself. On your maps, the nice friendly yellow circle is this clearing. As you can see, there are four areas for this training exercise. Today you’ll be in the shiny green area in the northeast corner. I’ve hidden half a dozen targets for each team to retrieve. If you don’t retrieve them all, you won’t be able to pass into the next quadrant”

Zethrid crossed her arms, eyebrow raised. Yes. It sounded super easy “The aim of this task is to operate on limited information, and iron out the kinks before we take this show on the road. I may be Keith’s husband, and for that, I know a whooooole lot of what I said, you all blanked out. Since the moment you all arrived, I’ve dropped clues. I also had the benefit of having Kosmo by my side, and I’ve climbed a tree or two in my life. You’ll need to find out tracks. Each target will give you a partial hint towards the next one. It might say something as simple as “left” or it might say something like “36”. Your job is to work on the information you have, then make and draw correct conclusions. If you pass out the boundaries, you’ve got the dead. Climbing in and out of ships unnoticed is harder than it sounds. In my sector of space, you go in guns blazing. I’m not going to shoot you, but you will incur a day delay... and that will interrupt the next activity... and the next... you’ll get it when we get there”

Patting his leg, Kosmo obediently trotted over to him. Wrapping his hand around the wolf’s blinged-out collar, Lance allowed himself a tiny smile “You’re all going to break into teams. Kosmo will be staying here with me. Because you can’t always take a magical cosmic wolf everywhere with you. You’ll be maintaining “radio silence” between the teams. If you’re seen by another operative, your mission could go to quiznak... and you’ll occur a 6 varga time penalty. Time for the teams! Zethrid, you will be working with Nerlo on finding the pink targets. Ezor, you will be working with Krystaal and Melda. Your targets are blue. Acxa, and Rachel 2.0, your targets are like a shiny black grey. Keith, that leaves you with Regetta and Legre... to find the purple targets. Yeah, that should work... See, the thing is guys, sometimes you’ve gotta work with people who aren’t like you at all. You’ll find your first targets only a few trees in. If you can’t find it, come back and I’ll show you. If you get lost, stuck or injured, call for Kosmo and we’ll come help you out. I suggest you take both your blasters and your blades, as well as water. The forest isn’t air-conditioned like a nice big battle cruiser, plus there are no convenient vents to hide in. The terrain out there can be unstable, so always watch your step. Your suits can withstand most damage, but that doesn’t make you invincible. Be alert... and have fun. I’ll see you all in... well, the quickest time Kosmo and I laid out a track and got back was 2 vargas by foot alone, so I expect you’ll be back by sunset. If you’re not, stay where you are. I’ve got all targets mapped, so we can trace your movements... that and the best tracking dog in the universe. Right. Go. Get whatever else you think you’re going to need and can carry on your body”

Giving them a small wave, Lance turned his back on the group, hoping they’d leave sooner rather than later as his stomach had started rolling halfway through giving instructions. So far his secret seemed safe, his scent caught in the protective weave of his bodysuit. Following him happily, Kosmo licked at his gloved fingers in search for the pats he knew he was going to get as soon as the others left. Lance planned to get a few vargas sleep provided his pregnancy allowed him, as well as staying out of the direct heat, and keeping hydrated. Then he’s work on the small explosive devices he wanted for stage three of the exercise. None of the teams would suspect it, but when they collected their targets, the “information” they successfully collected came together to produce 4 of his mother’s best recipes. They needed to give him a code word from the recipes for them to move onto part two... which was the same word for all four teams. Maybe that was slightly douchey, yet he couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces. Sometimes you went through hell sneaking around, all for it all to be for nothing. That was another lesson he wanted to drive home. The thought of being penalised was just for added measure...