#and when I snap I pry for the truth which usually burns everything to the ground

[snittygoop]

I like tarot because when I can feel in my gut, that something isn’t right, the cards give me insight on what it is that’s being hidden under the surface that I can’t see yet

[24hlevi]

TW SH

ok im having an angstober thought, would it be possible to request the aot girls (pieck, mikasa, annie) + hange finding out their s/o self harms or walking in on them doing it ? if it makes u uncomfy pls ignore ! thank u love ur work !

thank you so much! i haven’t written for aot in a while but this makes me so happy to get another req for the girls!

also im so sorry for how long this took to post but since aot is back here you go

Modern AU

TW // Self Harm “SH”

AOT Girls + Hange Finding Out You Self Harm

Attack On Titan Girls (Mikasa, Annie, & Pieck) + Hange X Gn!Reader

- mikasa can easily tell when something is wrong with you with how observant she is, but it’s difficult for her to find the reason as easy as knowing you were upset

- it had been going on for a few weeks that you were acting weird, and eventually mikasa ran out of patience and ended up asking you directly if there was something wrong 

- when you said no, she was very confused, as she thought something was wrong, but that didn’t mean she was going to give up that quick

- one day, when mikasa was coming home from work, she couldn’t find you so she went onto the patio to see you not only smoking a cigarette which you never did, but there were many others on an ashtray beside you along with burn marks all over your hand and forearm

- she froze in her spot, making you look at her and realize yourself what was currently going on, when suddenly she grabbed the cigarette from your fingers and tossed it over the railing, grabbing your uncovered arm and seeing really how many marks there were

- “how long...have you been doing this?”

- you wanted to give her the truth, the fact that eren had been a complete asshole to you since you started dating her and that it was getting worse by the day, but you didn’t, instead you lied, saying that it was because of you not wanting to be alive anymore, but it technically wasn’t a lie

- mikasa didn’t believe your reason, knowing ther was something else, but she wasn’t going to pry about it at the moment, so instead she took you inside and put burn cream on the scattered burns that were prominent on your skin

- later, mikasa found out the real reason behind it, and she was beyond pissed, and ended up punching eren and getting him to stop talking to you and her, and he did just that

- she from then on did everything to make sure that this wouldn’t happen again, and also made sure that armin kept eren away at all times in case she wanted to punch him again

- hange is a master at hiding their sadness and only expressing it when their alone so they can often know when you’re suppressing something deep down with a facade on

- so they usually try to ignore it unless you talk to them about it first, because they don’t like invading your privacy like that when you are trying to hide it because you don’t want anyone to know

- that was until you ended up snapping at levi and erwin while the four of you were out shopping, they then knew that they had to take the first step and find out what was going wrong if it was so bad that you ended up yelling angrily at your two best friends

- so when you two got home they asked you if everything was okay as it didn’t seem like it, and when you coldly declined answering, they definitely knew something was very wrong

- the next day, hange ended up asking you again while making breakfast, having it seem like a normal question for everyday when they were truly trying to find out what was wrong

- because you were still half-awake, you ended up answering truthfully with a “no” and so they followed it up with a “why” and you realized what was going on before sighing and telling hange everything

- hange had to stop cooking and sit down next to you so you could explain everything and they felt so bad afterwards when they found out how long it had been going on for and how they just ignored it because they thought you wanted to deal with it by yourself

- “i’m so sorry i didn’t ask sooner. i should’ve, and i didn’t...”

- you guys ended up having a long conversation about this and breakfast ended up burnt, but hange cooked it all again after still feeling bad about not asking you anything before this

- now, it is a daily thing for hange to ask how you’re doing every morning and night just in case something like this ends up again, even thought they don’t think it will

- pieck always knows when something is wrong, idk how she just does, okay?

- so she figured it out pretty quickly that there was something different and wrong about how you had been acting around everyone including her

- she ended up finding out about it when you two were out for dinner and the sleeve of your shirt had rolled up a tiny bit, but enough for her to see a faint red mark on your skin that she knew wasn’t there before

- she didn’t say anything at that moment, but later that night when you got home she immediately asked about it, mentally praying that what she was thinking wasn’t what was happening

- “y/n, you know you can tell me anything. what’s wrong?”

- her comforting voice was all you needed to hear before breaking down and revealing to her all of the scars hidden under your clothes and explaining everything

- pieck was beyond worried when she discovered how many marks you had hidden and how many she had missed somehow and it made her feel terrible, but she didn’t show that to you

- instead she just pulled you into her chest, trying to hold in her own tears as you cried into her shirt, whispering sweet nothings to you to attempt and calm you down so you both could talk about this without tears involved

- needless to say, pieck was extremely upset for you not telling her these things, but she wasn’t angry, she could never be angry at you, especially for something like this

- but after you two talked it all out, she made sure ti check every now and then in case of it happening again, as much as she hates to do it because she trusts you, she just can’t stand the thought of losing you

- annie knew something was different with how you had been acting recently, but she never thought it would be something like this

- she had just come home from grocery shopping and couldn’t find you anywhere, making her confused as you always greet her at the door when she comes home

- so she set everything down and went to go find you, only to find you in the bathroom with bloodied wrists, making both of you freeze when you saw each other

- at first, annie stared in confusion, disbelief, and a tiny bit of anger, until a few seconds later when she realized it was real and there was no more confusion, just disbelief and anger 

- she didn’t say anything as she quickly went to you and grabbed the sharp item out of your hand and tossing it in the sink, staring down at you with eyes that were filled with such emotions you hadn’t seen before 

- annie still didn’t speak the entire time she was cleaning you up, only a tiny “sorry” when you flinched due to her pressing the bandages on you a little too tight, but only because she knew if she spoke then she would finally crack

- after applying the bandages to your arms, you tried to speak but she cut you off by hugging you tightly, holding you so dearly as the tears she had been fighting off finally fell 

- “please don’t do this...i..can’t lose you.”

- annie was never one to openly express her love towards you, but after this, she slowly started opening up to it more and more, feeling as if it was her own fault for why you were doing this 

- while annie does trust you more than anyone else, there’s still a continuous worry in the back of her head that it’ll happen again, only worse, but she doesn’t end up voicing these thoughts to you, seeing as it would only make things more complicated and easier for an argument to start

[pinkmirth]

—𝟑𝟒 + 𝟑𝟓 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝗺𝐚𝐧 🍓🥛

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《𝗺𝗼𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔 + 𝐬𝗺𝐮𝐭 + 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠) + 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼/𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬 + 𝐛𝐥𝗼𝐰𝐣𝗼𝐛 + 𝟔𝟗 + 𝐟𝐞𝗺𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝗼𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 + 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝗼𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐚𝗺𝐞 “𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭” + 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜 ‘𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝗼𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝗼𝐧𝐠’ 𝐭𝐫𝗼𝐩𝐞 + 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐥’ 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝗺𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 + 𝐬𝐡𝐡𝐬𝐡𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝗼𝐫𝐥𝐝》

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Levi trotted with a scoff, grumbling profanities as always. He practically manhandled the doorknob to his living quarters, mind blurring between the basic elements of push and pull. 

“Shitty door,” murmurs Levi, not used to being this out of it, “and that even shittier company, makin’ me work overtime. I oughta quit—“

The knob then rattled from the other side, and he couldn’t help but let the briefest chuckle slip past his lips over your incoherent giggles, seeming to be rooted from excitement.

“About time, ‘Vi,” with the whish of the opening door, you set your eyes upon Levi with a grin, taking hold onto the black tie of his work attire to pry him further inside the house. 

“Is that supposed to mean you missed me?” Once again, Levi characteristically scoffs, despite his wholehearted smile. 

“‘Course I missed you, even if you came back by— what time is it, eleven..?” You recalled with a hum, engulfing your lover-man into a hug regardless. Sure, Levi finally arrived with less than an hour left of Valentine’s Day, but you couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t as though he wanted to come home at such a time..

Besides, it seemed as though he was a little caught up with last minute gifting as well, deeming by the pink festive gift bag he held in his unoccupied hand.

“Whatcha’ got there?” You queried jovially, pressing a chaste kiss upon his soft cheek before urging him to sit on the couch, plopping down beside him. The dark haired male sets the bag beside his feet, resting his elbow upon the puffy armrests.

“Whatever it is, it’s for me, yeah?” He snickered over the evident cockiness in your question, though you couldn’t have been closer to the truth. “No, I only bought it to sit and look pretty. Of course it’s for you, brat.”

He exhales, shifting around on the leather seat as subtle sounds emitted in response to his movements. “You know I hate to say the word, but..” you face Levi once you hear his lowered tone, the dark haired male prodding at his inner cheek with his tongue. 

“Sorry. For showing up late, I mean. Had to work overtime, out of all the damn days..” He kicks off his shoes all the while, huffing through his nostrils with a subtle eye roll.

“Hey, it's okay. At least you’re here now.” Your reply is genuine, soft. It causes Levi to smile to himself. 

“But I’ve just gotta say, That isn’t very fair of them to keep you so late.. Don’t they know you have me to come home to?” You address yourself with a teasing grin, inciting Levi to show a brief one of his own before his expression fell flat as always.

“It’s not as if they care about me. For all I know, they probably think I’m single,” was what he mumbled, watching you nod subtly to show he had your attention. Well, not exactly.

“You just gonna keep glancing between me and the bag or should I take everything in there for myself?” He snickered, picking it up by the drawstrings before allowing it to plunk down upon your lap.

“No, I wanna listen to you before anything else,” you told him, setting it down with a pout. “I’m all ears, ‘Vi.”

“I don’t have much left to say, though,” Levi shrugged, “I’m just..”

“Stressed?” You finished off your boyfriend’s weary statement, earning his lowly huff in reply as he threw his head back onto the sofa’s headrest, eliciting yet another sharp sigh.

“Yeah. More than usual.” admitted Levi, tugging at the base of his tie, which was beginning to feel rather contracting.

 “You want a little shoulder rub, my love?” Your suggestion caused the tips of his ears to go red in an instant.

Subtle massages always resulted in something much more lewd than intended with you and Levi, and maybe that was why you’d offered such a thing in the first place. Though, who was he to deny?

“..Yes, please.” His response came out gruff and brief, the grumbling male beginning to rid himself of his blazer. 

“The shirt, too.” You mused, gesturing towards his buttoned up dress shirt. “—And what if I don’t?” It was merely a part of his nature to rebel, so you didn’t mind his taunting query. He was simply acting resistant, but that was the Levi you knew and loved. 

“Then forget about the massage. It won’t be as effective with clothes in the way,” you stated matter-of-factly, tugging at his collar all too teasingly.

“Bullshit.” He spat, begrudgingly undoing his buttons nonetheless. “Such a good boy,” Levi practically growled in reply to the nickname. You were obviously enjoying this way too much for his liking.

He withdrew his hands from the sleeves with a hint of aggression, tossing it aside before allowing his bare back to press along the cool leather of the couch.

“Quit your damn staring.” Levi said, clicking his teeth before emitting another round of incoherent murmurs. “Calm down, I’m just— admiring.” You whispered, eyes trailing along every ridge and curve of muscle on his body, drinking up the physique of the man before you. 

With a height like Levi’s, it would never be expected for him to have such a defined frame. Despite that, you knew well of all the muscle that rippled underneath his button-up shirts and tucked-in ascots.

“Alright, you ready, ‘Vi?” You queried your lover with a grin, albeit you definitely weren’t finished with eyeing his toned abdomen until the image was burned into your visual memory. Although, knowing Levi, he was bound to grow restless if you didn’t make a move.

Shimmying over to straddle Levi’s slim waist, your fingers began off thrumming against his tensed shoulders playfully, earning a groan from him nonetheless. “Relax for me, won’t you?” You muttered, skilled digits threading along his skin, kneading over his contracting muscles. 

You were fixed on being painfully teasing, sliding your palms along his bulging triceps while veering closer, lips ghosting along his earlobe. Levi hoped you didn’t catch the way his breath hitched.

“This doesn’t seem like a massage anymore.” Levi spoke strainedly, “You feeling any better?” Was all you asked, averting from his earlier claim, “Well, you’re not doin’ so bad..” he then murmured, subtly shivering over the way your breath fanned upon his neck. He began to tilt his head expectantly, giving you leverage to bombard him with a kiss or two.

“Hey, Levi,”

“Yeah?”

 With the mischievous gleam you send him, his stomach delightfully twirls. You run your hands along his firm chest, palms gliding across his flawless skin before you tuck aimless strands of hair behind his ear, fingers grazing against his undercut.

“You want a blowie, too..?” He practically chokes, albeit his hooded obsidian eyes peering up at you yearningly. “You horny little monster—“ he isn’t even halfway through with his sentence when you slide yourself off of him, your knees meeting with the fuzzy carpet below.

“Yes or no, ‘Vi?” Your query is accompanied with a persuading smile, hands running along his slack-clothed thighs, threateningly close to his zipper. 

It wasn’t always like this; Levi would usually be the one having you blubbering and whining for his touch in mere seconds. Though, he was going to let you have this, just for today. It was the most he could do to make it up to you after leaving you by your lonesome on Valentines. Besides, it’d be a blatant, almost painful lie if he claimed that he wasn’t already enjoying it all.

“Just touch me already, dammit..” his grouching sounded more pleading than he’d wanted it to come across, but it seemed to work in his favor, considering how your hands dove to undo his belt.

Your fingers move nimbly, tugging at Levi’s slacks until he complies with the lifting of his hips, aiding you in slipping them past his hips until they pool at his ankles. To your delight, his member was already protruding underneath the thin of his skin tight briefs, subtly twitching while clad in his underwear. 

“You’re too cute, ‘Vi.” you swoon, dragging your fingers along his drool-worthy bulge. He then averts his obsidian eyes from yours, light hues of pink gracing his cheeks, breathing growing ragged. “Gettin’ all excited just because of a shoulder rub—“

“Fuck you.” he rasps, thighs tensing as he claws at the armrest.

“Geez, babe,” you chuckled lightly over his vulgarity, “I just wanna make you feel good after such a long day..” he was sure you were more fixated on sucking his cock, but sure, your statement worked out too..

The expression you held was one that Levi knew all too well, from the moment you'd pulled him in from the length of his tie to now, ridding him of those all-too-restricting boxers. 

Need. You needed him. Luckily, your loverman was more than willing to give in to your fervor for him.

You release the elastic of his briefs with a light snap before watching his cock bob against his abdomen, the lubricating precum causing the swell of his cockhead to look so sheen, so suckable.

“I don’t like the way you’re eyeing me, brat,” Levi heaved, eliciting a choked gasp once your dainty hands wrapped around him, “Should I look away, then? Your dick is out, so I really can’t help but stare.” You voiced out a taunting giggle.

They’re such a fuckin’ brat.. Levi had to scowl internally, since he was too busy stifling his pretty little groans on the outside. 

“You were all I could think about today, ‘Vi.” You whisper, your fingers pressing firm along the underside of his cock, “I'm trying so hard to hold back from touching you all over,”

“I ain't stopping you,” retorted Levi breathlessly, expression smug albeit his reddened cheeks and hooded eyes. Your unoccupied hand inched along his knee, achingly dragging your fingers across until you reached his athletically firm inner thigh.

“Fine then” you mused, “Just try not to cum so early, love.” 

Levi relentlessly stirred in his seat just as you decided to implement something that was sure to drive him mad; your tongue. His twitching cock prodded at your anticipating lips before sinking into your mouth swiftly, weighty and resting on your tongue with a repetitive throb. His saline-like precum tasted borderline saccharine as you relished the feel of his thickness encasing your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” Levi voiced out an explicit moan with his head thrown back, the swirl of your tongue lathering at his cockhead causing him to seethe in pleasure. You ran your tongue against the underside of his length, trailing your wet muscle along the healthy veins that littered his dick.

By the moment his breathing picks up, you pull yourself off with a faint pop. Saliva coating your lips as you pressed them against his pink, raging tip, eyeing your boyfriend as he drank up each and every one of your wet kisses.

“I love having you in my mouth, baby,” you swooned, your dainty hand gripping him at the base as the other slid over to his balls, fondling and kneading until Levi elicited a lengthy grunt.

“I wanna taste you too,” He eventually uttered out, breathless but determined. “But I wanted to please you..! Leviiii—” he suddenly teeters towards you, cutting off your anticipated whine with a kiss, fervent and open mouthed, darting his tongue within your mouth just to hear your squeals.

“No buts. Let me, [Y/N].” He drawled out his plea, voice deep and guttural, bubbling with lust. 

“I want you to sit on my face,” Levi narrated his desire between your shared kisses, “But if you really wanna suck me off that damn bad, I've got a clue of how we could make it work.” Your ears perk up at his offer, your lips curving into a grin against his.

“A six-nine, huh? Who knew you could be so fun?” You taunted, punctuating your claim with the tug of your teeth upon his bottom lip. 

“Just get on top of me before I change my mind..”  hissed Levi, shifting over from being seated and  looming over you to lying flat on the couch. “Come,” he induced you to crawl towards him, his expression holding a complacent beam once you made your way over, his hands immediately beginning to roam along your ass while you pressed yet another chaste kiss on his tip.

“Take these off or they’re gettin’ ripped.” he’d demanded of you, eyeing and plucking at your polka-dot baby blue panties with a glare so craving that you could feel it— and it made your essence seep into the sheer material.

“So fuckin’ wet. You’re all riled up for me, yeah?” He murmured lowly, allowing you to raise your legs from either side of his face, tugging and shimmying your underwear down until you kicked them off of your ankle.

“Only you, Levi,” your words were hardly above a whisper, his member standing erected before your face, throbbing from the way your breath fanned upon it. 

“Fuck, just look at the way you’re dripping..” just as he spat his vulgar words, his strong hands finding their way upon your ass once again, he’d bucked his hips up, lunging his cock straight into your awaiting mouth, cockhead nudging at the back of your throat.

“Ngh—!”

“‘Bet you want me to fucking devour this cunt of yours, don’t you, brat?” Levi seethed, his breathy chuckle causing your pussy to throb, sounding almost condescending. “Hm? Is that what you want? Eat you out ‘til you’re crying?”

Levi then thrusts up into your mouth yet again, his pace steady as your saliva trails along the side of his pulsing dick, your murmurs converting into pleasurable shivers that ran from his sensitive tip all the way to the tensing in his abdomen.

“M-mhm..” your humming earns a guttural groan from the male underneath you, his warm breath fanning along your fluttering cunt. As much as you anticipated his touch, he found great fun in making you whine and wait. But that teasing entertainment would only last for long. Afterall, he practically pleaded to get a taste of you..

Once he finally ran his tongue along your slicked folds and lower lips, it was pure bliss. You shuddered over how he groaned against your heat, sinking lower onto his cock, as his wet pink muscle began to traverse through your cunt all the while.

“Damn,” Levi merely chuckles somewhat drunkenly, swiping the tip of his tongue against your awaiting clit, grinning once you begin to spasm above him, subtle but noticeable.

“You like that?” queries Levi, tongue making contact with your delicate bud as he suckles and licks, earning your muffled moans vibrating along his throbbing girth.

“Don’t stop sucking my cock, brat,” he then warns, popping his lips off of your convulsing heat, hips swiftly rolling up as his thick shaft stuffed your mouth.

You grind yourself against his mouth in response, eliciting a croaked sob when he abruptly jutted out tongue, gliding it from your puckering, drooling hole to your puffy clit.

“L-Levi—!” You pop your mouth off of his cock, emitting a warbled cry of his name. “Keep touchin’ me,'' he breathes, slender fingers digging into your hips as he grinds your saccharine, sopping cunt along his flickering tongue, your fervent rocking leaving him gasping for air.

You can’t help but bite your lip over his ministrations, getting your hands to work as they twist and writhe around his length. “I-inside, ‘Vi, inside,” you plead of your lover, lightly bouncing your pussy against his essence-lathered lips.

“Want me to tongue fuck your pretty pussy? Make you feel good?” He snickers darkly, prodding the oral muscle at your fluttering hole mockingly, “Then beg.”

“You’re so mean,” you whimper while your hands continue working at his cock, quickly giving in to his demands nonetheless, “Please, put your tongue inside me, Levi—“

A lengthy wail is forced out of you before finishing your statement, his tongue inserting you with a swift and warm thrust, swirling along your clenching walls before retracting back into his mouth and propelling right back inside, lewdly slurping at your juices with a lustful vigor.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” Your repetitive cries of stimulation cause Levi’s tensing member to throb heavily, pulsing against the messy, pleasureful rubs of your fingers. 

“Tastes so fucking good,” he incoherently grunts beneath you, gently rotating his hot, salivating tongue inside your spongy, rapidly tightening walls, his own climax beginning to evolve from indistinct twitches to lurid shudders.

The sloppy and brisk flicks of your wrist cause vulgar, arousing squelches to elicit as your palm massages his fairly wet thickness, shakenly licking and sucking at his cockhead as his tongue’s ministrations did none but continue,  ravaging at your swollen clit despite the way your body violently shuddered above him.

“—g-gonna cum!” Levi simply hums against your cunt in response to your moaned sobs.

“Then cum. Cum in my mouth.”

You squeeze at his shaft, as if bracing for the blissful impact before emitting a lengthy, dulcet moan, your essence gushing upon Levi’s skilled tongue, legs trembling. He does nothing but drink you up lewdly, brows deeply furrowed as he groans into your pussy.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Levi then curses within a low, strained groan of his own, thrusting his hips up vigorously until thick, white ropes spurt out from his throbbing cock and onto your agape mouth, dribbling down your lips as you lazily dart out your tongue, letting it run down your throat with a sleepy hum.

You gradually settle your spent body on his own, resting your cheek against his firm thigh as he rubs at your hips consolingly, fingers skimming along the small of your back. 

“...You’re the most admirable brat I’ve ever known, y’know. Made this shitty day a little bearable, made me feel good.” you elicited a soft chuckle over Levi’s uttered attempt at a compliment. At least he had the right spirit, you’d say.

“Love you, ‘Vi,” you murmured genuinely.

“I love you more.” whispers Levi, arms circling around your waist from beneath you. “By the way, there’s money in the bag.” 

You suddenly spring up from your lax position, lidded eyes peering at the gift bag with newfound vitality.

“How much yen, ‘Vi?” You question, grinning widely.

“See for yourself.” retorts Levi.

You crawl off of his toned but relaxed form, peeking into the red-magenta bag expectantly as you dig past the pink bows and layering paper. He can’t hold back his grin when you emit a grateful squeal.

You turn back to Levi, laying your head right against his bare chest, bodies mingling as his hands run down to encase your hips, while your hand runs along his subtly barbed undercut.

“You’re the best, sugar daddy~” he grunts in distaste over your snickered joke, “I’m not your gotdamn sugar daddy, you little brat..” he grumbled, his palm landing against your ass with a faint smacking sound.

You take his ministrations lightly, giggling over the subtle spanking. Though, it seemed that Levi merely  wasn’t in the joking mood. It isn’t even five seconds after that when you’re flipped over, practically manhandled with Levi’s raw strength, the dark haired male now hovering over your pretty frame upon the spacey couch.

“Now that I think of it,” you’re anticipating his answer more than anything else, smugly grinning up at him expectantly as his hands encase your wrists, pinning them beside your head. Levi’s breath fans and tingles against your ear, your boyfriend apparently harboring a new surge of libido, “It seems like this brat needs a bit of punishment.”

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[meenah-chan]

Solace

A Belphegor x GN! MC fanfic

3.14k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger warning: mention of death. Read at your own discretion.

Requested by: @belphiesimpalways thank you for patiently waiting for this. Supposedly, this is for your birthday but still, belated Happy Birthday to you!! This became a little bit too long, and I actually changed the whole thing twice 😅😅 I changed the title too to prevent confusion, hope you don't mind.

He lost it the day he lost his beloved sister. A place to call his home. Yet he met them. The one who brings light to his dark days. But what shall he do, when this solace was never been his?

“How I wished I didn’t met you at all.”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He can hear the harrowing sound of the clock, ringing inside the closed space. As if it were imitating his increasing pulse. Belphegor couldn’t open his eyes. He won’t though, even if he can. He fears he’ll see it again. The agonizing sight of that cursed attic, where he is trapped, cold and lonely. Each click, each clack drives him on a brink of madness.

Somebody please make it stop..! Curled up in his bed, writhing in anguish, Belphegor tried to block the sound with his trembling hands.

Let me out… I hate this place...

“It is for your own good.” Lucifer’s voice reverberates throughout the whole room. His guide light and the hero of his stories… once upon a time, that is.

For my own good? This place was a nightmare! He was imprisoned! He was trapped inside his head, with nothing but bleak thoughts!

He felt cold, with no one to hold onto. With no Beelzebub or Lilith, ready to embrace him when he’s afraid…

Ahhh…

Right…

Even if he managed to escape that place, there’ll be no more Lilith to hold him. To comfort him. To make him laugh of joy and happiness. No more… Lilith is no more…

“...Belphegor?” he snapped his eyes open and suck in a deep breath, as if the voice pulled him out of the deepest pit of the abyss. His heart was beating fast, bathed in his own sweat.

It was just another dream. He was not trapped in the attic any more. He was freed, by the person with him right now, sitting beside his bed, a few weeks ago. “Are you alright? You’re sweating buckets and squirming in your sleep.”

“I’m fine. It was just pretty hot in here.”

They stared at him for a moment before replying. “...If you say so… Wait, let me get you some water and a change of clothes.” unconsciously he raised his hand, fingers tugging on the hen of their shirt which stopped them from their tracks.

“Don’t need one… Just stay here and be my pillow.” Still, feeling a bit anxious of being alone, he didn't let go.

“That won’t do. You’re so drenched. If you don't change clothes and rehydrate, you might get sick. I'll be back in a jiffy.” Yet as they swiftly pried his hand off their clothes, he couldn't do anything but to watch them stride out of the room.

He sighed, recollecting the series of events from the time he met them. “...What a weird person...” He muttered under his breath.

A few weeks ago… Just a few weeks ago, they succeeded in freeing him... Just a few weeks ago, they died by his hands... Yet, they kept on approaching him like nothing had happened.

But oddly enough, he also couldn't get them off his mind; to want them by his side. The only time he could find his peace of mind is when he's with them.

I guess I'm weird too...

Silently, he observed them. The way they speak and walk. The way they would scold him when he chose to nap over catching up his missed lessons. The way they tap and hum unconsciously, while studying with him to encourage him to do so. Those awkward laughs they made as they tried to mend the rift between him and his brothers. The sighs left their lips as his brothers fought over who would have them. The slow and silent steps they make to slip away. The way they wink and place a finger over their lips and pull him with them.

Especially the way their eyes disappear when they're smiling. He can never describe how soothing it was, that smile.

...until he suddenly felt it wasn't.

The way they make the very same smile to Lucifer, Belphegor couldn't help but feel a little bit too irritated. Yes, it was Lucifer. He’s naturally annoyed by him, after what he's done. But this is a little bit different from his usual displeasure.

The youngest just wanted to pry the human off him and drag them away. He knew he couldn't suppress the burning sensation rising from the pit of his stomach. He also knew he'll regret what he wanted to do. He'd look possessive. Delusional. He may even hurt them in the process. So, he chose to escape the scene instead, into the attic which was once his prison.

“Belphegor! I got... and you're asleep.” the demon dares not open his eyes as he hears them make their way to him. “You didn't even remove your uniform...or your shoes. I'm really amazed how you can fall asleep in a matter of seconds.” They carefully remove the shoes and socks from his soles.

Oh no... That's not a good thing. For every touch of their skin sends tingles throughout his entire body. Each cell screaming in a way he never felt before. The bed shook as they crawled in, reaching for the buttons of his vest. He was at his wit's end, completely conscious of the human's presence.

Before they could ever reach for the last row of buttons, his hand stopped them before he lose it.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Y-You're awake?!” Before they could ever pull back, he tugged them in his chest, flustering the human even more.

“H-Hey, let go. Your uniform will get wrinkled.” They tried squirming out to no avail. The demon is just too strong to make him budge.

“Don't want to.” To hide his warm and probably beet red face, he clasped their nape and keep their face over his shoulder.

“I still haven't changed out of mine.”

“Hmm, goodnight...”

“Hey...” after a few more stirring in vain, they just sighed and let the youngest have it his way.

This is bad. Thought Belphegor. The annoyance he felt a while ago dissipates as fast as it builds up inside of him. Still, his heartbeats and head were in utter chaos, the time he held them so close. He said he’s returning to slumber, yet his heart showed no signs of ever slowing down. He bet they could hear it, but he have no more energy to even mind it. After all, amidst the chaos in him, could also feel he won’t be getting any nightmares right now.

“Say Belphegor. Do you have a fever? You’re hot and your heart’s beating a bit too fast.”

“Just tired from the extra work a while ago. I just need some rest.”

“If you say so...”

He could no longer deny this feeling inside him.

He… fell in love with a human. He found it, the peace to his raging storm. The salve to his wounds. But they can never be his solace.

He lost it the day he lost his beloved sister. He lost his home. His freedom. He doesn’t have anything but his disgusting self, who could only obsess over keenly observing each and every move they make. Like a stalker. Like a creep. Like a predator eyeing its prey.

But they were never been his. And the day they learnt of his habit is the day they will be disgusted by him.

“Lucifer!” and the fact that they were attached to his eldest brother— the one who robbed him of his freedom once— didn’t help.

They would link arms around his. Heck, even snuggled to it as they do so, with that widest smile upon their face. The small giggles they give off as the abomination in the form of his brother praised them while petting them. Oh, how he wanted to just cut off that hand straying onto them! How dare he touch–

…them that might have already belonged to him, long before he could enter the picture…?

No. There's just no way that heartless brother of his to fall for a mere human. That brother who bowed down to a demon the day his sister died. And the human who taught him how to love again, to fall for Lucifer. That’s just… impossible… It’s just too cruel…

But I love them too! I can love them more than that fiend who chose a demon over his family!

“No, you’re much crueler…” He could hear the whispers at the back of his mind. “Have you forgotten what you did? You killed them. Do you think you have any rights to even lay a finger on them? You spiteful, wretched, monster…”

…Right… He has no rights to have them… He lost it before he could realize the weight of his actions… It was the painful truth. A punishment for a sinner like him. He could regret it until his last breath but he could never be forgiven.

He doesn't deserve to have a place in their heart. Never. Never…

The door to the twins’ room creaked open and he knew exactly whose footsteps it was without the need to look. “Belphegor, Lucifer gave me some sushi. You like this, right? Let’s eat it while it’s fresh.”

Lucifer again, huh...

“It’s yours. Eat it yourself.” There’s no more point in fighting a lost battle.

Let it grow, “Ehh? But you like—”

“Let’s stop this.” … or let it go.

“…Huh? Stop what?”

He also fears what he might do in the future due to this rotten affection of his. “Just as I thought, I couldn’t stand humans. You’re so naïve and trusting. I’m already fed up with dealing with your antics.”

“Wait, I don’t understand…” They asked, confusion and unease were all over their face.

“You don’t? Then let me explain in a way you’ll understand in that small, gullible brain of yours.” He took a deep breath. He needs to keep his cool or he will definitely break in front of them, “Everything is all an act. You thought I like being with you? Think again, fool. Having a human around me fills me with nothing but wrath and anger! Who do you cause my nightmares!? Your race disgusts me to death! Just looking at you makes me want to puke!”

“B-Belphegor… please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Kidding? Do I look like I’m joking?” he scoffed, holding back the pain clawing in his chest. “Be thankful for my brothers. If not because of them, you won’t be alive the second time, nor your ignorant race are.

“I won’t touch a hide of you or any human. So please, stop bothering me anymore.” being unable to stifle the emotions on the verge of bursting, he turned his back on the devastated human.

This is for the best. He’s back in his cage. Staring at the lacework of the long-lived spiders on the ceiling. He already witnessed its threads wear and replace countless of times. That might not even be the same spider he saw on his first night there. He could care less. After all, the only time he was truly curious of a being is when he met them.

How he wished the thread of his feelings were as flimsy as the spider’s. That way it’ll fall off over time. It can simply be cut off when it comes on his way.

“How I wished I didn’t meet you at all.” He knows it well. He is a big liar. In some way or another, just like the firstborn. But they deserve him more than his wretched self.

Lucifer, he was the morning star. The fact that both heaven and hell were captivated by his beauty and excellence. But Belphegor… he was nothing but a bleak abyss. He once dreamt of his brother’s greatness. Yet he couldn't be anything. He, miserable and empty, who only had nothing but guilt, regrets and a broken heart— as he watched them weep.

It’s been weeks since then. They never approached him like he said. Neither in the dining table nor classroom do they discern his presence. It was painful, but he can take it. The only unbearable one he felt is catching them cry— in Lucifer’s arms.

How long are they going to cry? Is it still because of him? No… This is for the best...

This is his atonement. His fate. He still couldn’t have anything, yet he already lost everything. His—

Lucifer… He is staring at him straight in the eye. I should leave.

But Belphegor couldn’t leave. Not after the eldest gave him that sly smirk. What does that mea…

Lucifer didn’t give him time to think. “Wha, Lucifer…?” Sound of confusion left their mouth as Lucifer grabbed their chin firmly between his index and thumb, with the menacing look on his face. “What are you—!”

And the gap between their faces disappeared. “Hmph!” The sight of the futile struggle of his beloved in the hands of the man he entrusted them to… made the youngest snap.

“LUCIFER!!!” His horns and tail materializing, he lunged towards him. His clenched fist flying in the air, aiming for his jaw. Yet, as if expecting it, Lucifer evade him, loosening his grip on the stunned human in the process. Belphegor saw this as a chance to pry them away from his brother’s hands, before jumping a few meters away from him.

“When are you going to learn to clean after your own mess, Belphegor?” As if the devious smirk were never been present on his face, Lucifer looked at them with his usual expression.

“What the hell?! You’re the one who assaulted them!!” He snarled like a wild animal, holding his treasure protectively from the threat.

“I didn’t do anything. Ask them yourself.”

“Ask? Do you think I’m blind?!” His stance became stiffer, fangs sheathed and glaring sharply at his brother, who is unfazed.

A light tug on his collar made his eyes soften, and caused him to realize his tight grip on them in which he loosen. “Are you hurt?”

“N-No… Lucifer’s saying the truth… He didn’t kiss me. I was just a bit confused he pressed his thumb over my lips.”

“.... What? Okay, but still—!”

“Do you think I’m a fool, Belphegor?” Lucifer cut him off, “I know what you’re planning. I'm already your brother for thousands of years.”

“...”

“Do you now understand the consequence of your foolish action? You left someone important to you in the care of others. But you didn’t think that sort of thing might actually happen?”

“But it’s you who they love!”

Lucifer’s frown deepens, “Even if it were some lesser demon they’re in love with, I bet you'll leave them in their care.”

“I...” He… Lucifer’s right… No one's more dangerous for them than himself.

Belphegor's horns and tail disappeared as he calms down, processing what his brother is saying.

“Everyone’s dangerous in Devildom, you fool. If you really are sorry for what you did, protect them instead.”

“Protect? But… But I...” Ignoring him, the eldest glanced at the person between the youngest’s arms.

“Do you already get what I’m saying Y/N?” They nod. “Not only are you both foolish and stubborn, but also blind. Now fix this yourselves. I’m done with your drama.” pinching the bridge of his nose, Lucifer left them in that awkward position without another word.

“...I’m really sorry. I was afraid to hurt you more than I already did.” After a moment of silence, Belphegor decided to break it first.

“You already did, you idiot.” Wiping the stray tears on their puffy eyes, Belphegor gave them a sad smile. “I guess I did.”

“But I still don’t think this is alright. Shouldn’t you be a bit more wary around me? I mean you already… died in my hands once.”

“You brat. Do you think I’d cry like that if I we’re okay with not being with you? I've never held a grudge against you in the first place.” They pout.

“Why? How can you forgive me that easily?” The demon frowns at them.

“Well, wouldn't life be more wonderful if we know how to forgive and forget?”

Frustrations were evident in his eyes, Belphegor's frown deepens. “That's not right… I killed you mercile—”

“Then shouldn't I be asking you? Why can't you forgive yourself?” He didn’t answer. Mistakes have already piled up as is.

Forgive himself? Why? Does he hate himself?

...Yes... I probably do... He loathed himself. terribly so... But they, who tasted the his abhorrence. He couldn't understand how they didn't.

“You want you to find happiness.” They cupped his disgruntled face in their palms, foreheads touching as they gave him comfort.

“I can’t.” with glassy eyes, he held a hand on his cheeks, “Not when you are my happiness. Not when you liked my brother.”

“You really are blind. And here I thought I was just assuming things.” their giggles were like music to his ears. Their orbs were like the placid sky set upon him. “You really are blind. And here I thought I was just assuming things.”

“I love you, idiot.” And their words, with no hint of doubt or hesitation, hit him like a surge. It made his feelings overflow, coursing throughout his entire body, and finally spilling on every corner of his eyes. It made him unable to speak. “I’m not even hoping for you to feel the same. I just wished to stay by your side… and for you to cherish yourself like how I’ve been to you.”

Belphegor felt so happy beyond words. Such indescribable feelings swirling inside him, one that he can’t put into words. With so much running inside his head, the only line he could form is… “Thank you.”

Weeping, but from so much joy this time, they huddled in each other's grasp, not caring of their setting, until their hearts finally felt whole again.

And after such a blissful moment, “...that’s it? No I love you too?” They spoke.

“What are you saying? I already said I love you.”

“No you didn’t. Saying I’m your happiness and confessing are separate things.” they frown at him, expecting.

“It’s the same.” Yet knowing how stubborn the demon is, the human raised their white flag, although disappointed.

“Okay, alright…” They sighed, wiping his eyes with a tear-stained handkerchief. “Why am I the one comforting you anyways? I’m the one crying because of you.”

Belphegor smiled mischievously, like he didn’t cry a while ago. “Because I’m the youngest.”

“Ugh, why did I fall for a spoiled brat?” Another sigh left them as they pulled him up, “Let's go, I’m sleepy.”

Yet as soon as he rose on his feet, he placed his arms on the back of their knees and shoulder blades to carry them, gaining a small yelp from them.

“Hey...” no protest managed to leave their lips as he sealed it with a chaste kiss. Probably not their first but it was the sweetest one. It only last a few seconds, but Belphegor knew fully well. This memory will last forever.

“I love you more, my solace.”

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Tea Shop Part Three: Zuko x female reader imagine series

You struggle to come to terms with the reality Lee is Zuko and can’t get your head around the idea...until a dangerous close encourter shows you how fire nation Zuko really is.

Part One here

Part Two here

Part four here

You felt like a naive idiot. You always prided yourself on being more objective than an average air nomad, more realistic, but you'd believe Zuko was good and he betrayed his uncle and tried to kill Aang. You felt utterly bewildered and couldn’t believe the person you knew would do all those things. You made Sokka tell you all about their encounters with Zuko, every single detail, to try and get it into your head that the tea merchant you knew didn’t exist. Everything Sokka told you sounded insane but you knew it was the truth so begrudgingly you started accepting it. You were starting to see Zuko as an enemy instead of an ally and then all that work went out the window when you came face to face with him again.

The gang had landed on a secluded part of an island with a nice lake so everyone was swimming and relaxing but you didn’t want to just lie around, you wanted to explore. So you convinced Sokka to come with you for a walk into town and the two of you set off. When you heard there was beach you’re excitment peaked and Sokka relaxed his rule on staying out of sight figuring nobody here would recognise either of you. Sokka stopped to look at bags by the beach front and you walked onto the beach happily. You stood in the sand enjoying the warmth when suddenly a beach ball came flying towards you. You batted it away without thinking and sent it flying down the beach. "Great job genius" a voice called and you turned to see a very angry looking fire nation girl. "That was my ball and now you've catapulted it half way down the beach". "Sorry but it was that or get in the face so..." you joked but the girl didn’t find you funny. "Go get it" she said stiffly and something about her tone pissed you off "no" you said simply "it’s your ball". The girl went to step closer to you when her friends walked over too and a boy pulled her away from you. You mouth opened in suprise to see it was Lee or more accurately Zuko. It had only been a few months since you’d last seen him but he looked so different. His hair was longer, he was in fire nation clothes and he looked changed...he looked good. You could tell it was definitely him by how panicked he looked, which also suprised you. Was he really scared because he thought you'd reveal what he did and who he was to his friends? Surely they knew he was the prince? Then you realised he wasn't worried about himself he was worried about you. "Azula leave it" he called standing infront of her and you realised who this was. The gang had told you all about the deadly fire nation trio and sure enough you recognised the other two girls from their descriptions. The pale girl didn’t even seem to be paying attention but the pretty brunette looked at Azula worried. "This peasant disrespected me i won’t leave it" Azula snapped as Ty lee frowned "it’s okay Azula, those boys are bringing the ball back to us anyway" she smiled "they’re so nice". "Exactly so let’s just go" Zuko said and you saw Azula frown at him, you were guessing he wasn’t usually an advocate for the average person. You felt his sister scanning you and knew you had to get out of this situation right now but had no idea how. "Come on" Zuko called but Azula shook her head "no". Zuko groaned "for god sake Azula what’s your problem! Leave her alone". Azula tensed "why are you so protective of this girl zuzu?" she asked and you saw Mai look up at that and stare at you too. "I’m not" Zuko babbled "i’m just sick of your temper, why start fights with a stranger for no good reason!". Azula frowned as if she hadn’t even heard Zuko "you seem familiar" she said "have we met before?". You frowned "i...i’ve never seen you before in my life" you replied trying not to touch the burn on your arm like you always did when you were nervous. She hummed still staring at you and you waited for her to realise who you were. "I’m sick of this come on lets just go" Zuko sighed and he led Mai away. "Azula come on" he called and Ty lee tugged her arm. "Fine" Azula sighed and let them drag her away. You watched them go, facinated. So this was the real Lee then? You watched him, staring at the back of his head trying to find something, a look, a subtle nod, anything that told you he was still Lee...but Zuko seemed determined not to look back at all and he walked away like he didn’t know or care about you at all.

You came to your senses after they left and rushed away from the beach, running back up to the stalls and out of sight. You breathed heavily as what could’ve happened to you sunk in and jumped when Sokka appeared next to you. "Hey, did you get what you wanted?". "What?" you asked confused. "The beach? Is it nice?". "No it’s way too crowded lets head back" you stammered and Sokka shrugged "okay". You weren’t sure why you didn’t tell Sokka what had happened. Part of you didn't say anything because you weren't sure how to feel. You hadn't been angry when you saw Zuko more sad and confused. You’d felt embarassed he ignored you even if he had to do it given the company he was in. Another part of you didn’t say anything because you didn’t want the others to persue Zuko even if he was part of the fire nation and that thought embarassed you even more. You were very confused and so just stayed quiet as you walked further and further away from the beach.

All day you ruminated over your decision not to tell the others and even with ground between you, you couldn’t get what happened out of your head. You wanted to ask Zuko why he’d helped you on the beach, shouldn’t he hate you now? Especially given your air nomad identity or was he different to the rest of his nation? Giving up on sleep you decided to go for a walk and pretended you didn’t have an exact location in mind. You knew it was stupid and risky but you headed back to the beach and arrived quickly. It was empty and you sat down slightly disappointed. You knew Zuko wouldn’t still be there but you had to check. You sighed wondering what you’d even have said to him and were suddenly glad he wasn’t here. You didn’t know if you’d be angry at him or happy to see him, so him not being here made things a lot easier for you.

"You must have a death wish coming back here" someone called and you knew who it was.

You turned and there Zuko was walking towards you slowly. The first emotion you felt wasn't anger, he'd come back here too, just like you. "I could say the same for you" you smirked and Zuko sat down next to you. You sat beside one another in silence both of you suprised and confused by the situation you were in. "Why are you here?" he asked suddenly. "I thought you might come back here so i did" you said embarassed and he shook his head "no here on the island! Are you following us? Y/n they can’t know you’re here...if my sister knew who you were she'd....". "Pft i can handle some fire" you tried to joke but Zuko shook his head "no y/n, Azula is the best fire bender i’ve ever seen, you can’t take her and you can’t let her take you". You swallowed, you’d only been joking about handling Azula, you knew she was dangerous but hearing Zuko tell you that... "We’re not here because we’re following you" you said softly "we stopped off here and i wanted to see the beach, it was chance bumping into you i swear". Zuko looked at you and nodded "i believe you, it was just...odd". You nodded and watched him out of the corner of your eye. He looked conflicted, happy but not happy, sad but not sad. "How are you?" you couldn’t help asking "how is it being back home?". "Weird" Zuko replied "it’s changed so much...i’ve changed". “Tell me about it, the last I knew you were a tea merchant not a prince”. Zuko smiled slightly “I imagine it was a lot to take in?”. You nodded “it was but it explained a lot...your spoiled attitude for one”. Zuko smirked and you laughed. This was nice and all but you couldn’t just sit around ignoring the elephant in the room. "Why did you do it?" you couldn’t help asking and felt Zuko tense, the atmosphere now uncomfortable. "I know i don’t know you well and I know Lee isn’t really you but I still can't understand why you'd betray your uncle? Why you'd side with your sister after all she’s done? You just don’t seem like that type of person". Silence settled and stretched on for so long you got ready to leave but finally Zuko spoke. "You’re right, you don’t know me". You met his eye and saw nothing but anger and hate there. You looked away scolded and shook your head feeling deflated "back to that again huh? Back to hating each other?". "Well obviously! we’re on opposing sides y/n, what did you think was going to happen once you joined the avatar? We’re not friends". You laughed in utter surprise "ow so if i didn’t join the avatar it would've been different?" you asked "stop trying to blame me because you feel guilty for the choices you made". "You were always too prying and self rightous for your own good" he snapped “you know nothing! You’re just some waitress I worked with, you don’t know anything about me”. "Wow and there’s the fire nation prince" you smirked patronisingly "don’t know how you did such a good job hiding him before now" and stood up. "I saved you as a courtesy" Zuko called after you, his voice getting louder the further you walked "the next time i won’t". His announcement made you so mad you shook with anger. He was really threatening you for calling him out on betraying his family? He thought not letting his sister attack you owed praise? "Good" you yelled back "i don’t need anything from you. Have fun in your cursed life traitor". 

Zuko’s POV

Your words hit Zuko like a strike and he glared after you burning holes in your back until you disappeared around a corner. Even though you’d gone Zuko’s anger didn’t and he angrily sent a jet of fire up into the air with a yell. Zuko sat down on the cold bench and shivered. “What’s wrong with you now?” someone asked making Zuko jump. He turned to see Azula coming towards him and looked around to make sure there was no sign you’d been here. Azula seemed relaxed so she obviously hadn’t seen you but Zuko couldn’t believe how lucky he got, if Azula had been slightly earlier or you stayed any longer...it didn’t bare thinking about. “Hello? Does that scar effect your hearing?”. “No” Zuko snapped and sighed. His temper had been bad recently and was getting worse, that’s why he’d blown up so easily. He hadn’t meant to yell at you, he’d been happy to see you and he did...had seen you as a friend. But that was certainly all ruined now he’d yelled at you. That thought made Zuko even more depressed, which he didn’t think was possible. He supposed it was best you hate him though, he was the traitor prince, he’d betrayed his uncle who only ever wanted to help him. This way he wouldn’t be able to betray you too. 

1 month later

You’d regretted what you’d said to Zuko as soon as your anger feded but you were still hurt at what he’d said about you. You weren’t friends and you never were...

You decided that was the final straw and set out to make Zuko’s words a reality. Slowly you managed to lose thought of Zuko, even during the invasion of the fire nation palace you didn’t worry about seeing him, you knew now where your loyalties lied and it wasn’t with Zuko. You were done with him and getting to be okay with that.

So after finally working all that out, when you got a visitor at the western air temple you were angry to say the least. "It’s not..." you frowned looking at the figure but it was. Zuko...and he was smiling too. "Hello Zuko here" he called waving, appearing to be as calm as ever. The others all armed themselves but you just glared. Zuko looked at you all and glanced at you last. He looked down at the intenseness of your glare and you felt proud. "What do you want here?" Aang asked. Zuko explained he wanted to join you and you snorted "seriously? Now the great prince wants to grace us with his presence?" you asked. Zuko looked at you "y/n...i’m sorry for hurting you, all of you” he said looking at everyone again "what i did was wrong and i ask you to consider forgiving me". "No" you said simply "so thank you for coming but goodbye". Zuko rolled his eyes "y/n just let me explain...". "Explain what?" you asked "how you double crossed Mushi? How you hinted i’d be next?". Zuko went quiet and lowered his head. Aang touched your arm and you took that as a sign to calm down. “We can never trust you and we’ll never let you join us” Aang took over and you nodded. Zuko’s face crumpled in defeat and you sighed in relief. You watched, glaring, until Zuko walked out of sight and went inside the temple “well done Aang” you commented. "Man i thought air nomads were all peaceful" Sokka frowned. "Well guess i’m more earth nation then" you shrugged "if i see him again i’ll catapult him from this mountain". “Why are you so angry at him?” Toph asked suddenly and you laughed “you’re joking right?”. “No I get you feel betrayed but you were furious with him I could tell by your emotions and what did you mean when you said he threatenned you?”. “Yeah you never told us he did that in Ba Sing Sei” Sokka nodded and you frowned. “He didn’t threaten me per se and it wasn’t in Ba Sing Sei. I spoke to Zuko a few weeks ago". "What!" they all cried. Sokka launched in a lecture, Katara questioned you on safety, Toph called you insane while you just blushed. "This is exactly why i didn’t tell you!" you cried "i knew the risk but we were at the beach and he’d already stopped his sister from attacking me earlier that day so i figured....". "What" Sokka yelled and you sighed and just started from the very beginning. You finished your explanation and Sokka nodded. "I get why you’re angry at him" Sokka agreed and you sighed in relief. "Yeah because of what he said to me...". "No because you guys basically broke up". "What! We did not" you spluttered "we were never dating! That’s ridiculous" and stormed away angrily.

After a fitful night of sleep you woke up to the news Toph was gone. She’d seemed pretty sympathetic to Zuko yesterday so you weren’t suprised when she returned and announced she’d visit Zuko...and he’d burnt her. You helped carry her to the fountain and managed not to gloat that you were right but Toph sensed it. “I can feel you smirking” she commented. You frowned “I’m sorry you got hurt but I did tell you...”. “I may’ve been wrong but you’re letting your feelings cloud your judgement” Toph commented. You gaped “no i’m not!” and Katara frowned “guys....” when an explosion rocked the whole temple. Sparky sparky boom man was back, the assassin hired to kill you, and you all sought cover when suddenly the attacks ceased. “Zuko” Aang commented and you sighed, apparently Zuko was determined to prove his worth. Watching Aang’s reaction you felt anger, you knew what would happen. Zuko would save the day and that would win the gang over, they didn’t have as strong grudges as you.

Sure enough after the attack they let Zuko approach and listened to him. Aang vouched for him but then turned to all of you for your opinions. Aang looked at eveyone, they all met his eye apart from you. Toph and Sokka agreed, Katara hesitated but she agreed too. Finally Aang turned to you  "Y/n" he said softly "will you agree to let Zuko stay?". You looked past Aang to Zuko and resisted the urge to glare. "Y/n" Aang said softly "please, i need a firebender teacher and i really think it should be him". You stared at Aang, those big brown eyes wearing you down, and sighed. You had to do what was right, Aang needed this and he was one of the last members of your nation, you couldn’t be selfish. You nodded your head stiffly “if you say you need him then okay”. Aang grinned at you before turning back to Zuko “okay you can join us”. Those words made your skin crawl and you stormed away.  

It was awkward to say the least having Zuko around, all of you were reluctant to approach him but Sokka seemed to be having fun with it. As night approached Zuko asked where his room was and Sokka said he’d show him. Zuko nodded and Sokka siddled up beside you “want to show Zuko to his room yourself?" Sokka asked "so you can memorise the location". You smacked Sokka over the head in reply and he led Zuko away without another comment but had apparently put the idea in Zuko’s head.

You were laid on your bed glaring at the ceiling too angry to sleep when there was a knock on your door. You sat up cautiously and the door opened to reveal Zuko. "Hi" he said timidly and you stood up "what do you want?". Zuko blushed "i think we need to talk, privately...about what happened on ember island". "What is there to discuss? You never considered me a friend, you rejected me and left". Zuko frowned "y/n...it wasn’t like that". "Wasn’t it?" you asked and Zuko frowned "well it was but y/n i’m sorry! The things i said to you were awful but i didn’t mean them! I lashed out at you because it was you, because you make me want to be a better person, that’s why i hurt you". "Ow wow that makes it so much better thank you" you said mockingly and Zuko frowned "no, you know i didn’t mean it like that". "Well i’m sorry i didn’t take you yelling at me the right way Zuko, did i misinterpret you calling me nosy and self rightous and saying you never liked me too? Or how you saving me was just a such a nice gesture". Zuko groaned "why aren’t you listening i just said I didn’t mean any of that!". "Well i find that hard to believe" you glared "you don’t get to come here and apologise and have me forgive you, i’m angry at you". "Really you did a good job hiding that" Zuko retorted and you glared. "Get out of my room i don’t want to talk to you, ever”" you yelled and Zuko nodded "fine!" and stormed away. He slammed the door and the whole temple shook. You let out a cry of frustration and collapsed onto your bed. Zuko joining the group was going to make things complicated.

----

Next part is the last one!!!

[haloud]

things we could burn in one go (eminence) -- chapter 5

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, starts forlex ends malex, other characters may appear - Freeform, tags subject to update

Chapter Summary: With Max’s condition deteriorating and Alex struggling under the weight of his worries about his family and Project Shepherd, Michael goes to drastic lengths to get strong enough to protect them.

Excerpt:

All the soft spots they’d ever shown each other, all the ways they knew to dig in and hurt, and new pain was still a revelation, Michael discovered as Alex set his jaw and bared this truth: he didn’t believe in Michael, didn’t trust him as an ally, saw him as a liability before he was absolutely anything else. A burden.

“I never asked you to protect me,” he said.

Alex’s face twisted. Michael wanted to take the words back, but he didn’t know which ones. Maybe all of them.

He replied, “You never had to.” Then he stood. “I should get going. Thanks for the beer.”

And he got in his car and was gone.

Michael sat for a while. It was late afternoon, and it was hot, but Michael stared into old ashy iron like he was watching a bonfire. Storm clouds built up all billowy on the horizon. Static built up inside Michael’s head.

But it wasn’t Max’s kind of static, kinetic static, moveable, actionable, dangerous. Just a lowkey anxious buzz, formless and useless, a passenger in his skull alongside thoughts he couldn’t parse, like Michael himself.

His whole life he’d been a passenger. On a ship, in the system, in his own life, in the lives of others.

Maybe it was time to change that.

---

The bags under Max’s eyes grew heavier and darker, but he carried on like Isobel and Michael weren’t supposed to notice or care. Surprisingly, he hadn’t put up a fight when Isobel finally put her foot down and decreed he was staying with her until they figured out what was going on, but, more than likely, he was just too tired to fight her on it.

He was, of course, already awake when Michael let himself in and fired up the stove to make breakfast; Michael glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a door opening, and Max didn’t acknowledge him as he settled himself on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, his journal propped on his knees.

“What’s up?” Michael called over to him as he mixed the pancake batter.

“Same shit, different day,” Max replied.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Michael shrugged and let it go. If Max preferred to write about it, that was his prerogative.

“You working today?”

“Nope. You?”

“Not unless Sanders calls me in.”

Michael spoke without putting too much thought into it, but he ducked his head in embarrassment when Max smiled at him. Max’s open happiness whenever Michael let slip his own growing acceptance of the connections in his life was something Michael didn’t quite know what to do with—but he wasn’t going to snap at Max over it, especially when Max was struggling already.

“Chocolate chips or blueberries?” he changed the subject.

“Chocolate,” Max replied.

“Coming right up.”

He finished up the batter and poured the first three pancakes onto the heated skillet. As it sizzled, Michael’s mind wandered. When would Isobel get up? She was usually too nosy to let Michael and Max carry on for long without her, but maybe that was changing, or maybe Max’s state was driving it home for all of them the value of good sleep. Should they talk to Maria about giving Max more time off? No, she had a business to run, and she had eyes, she’d make an executive decision if Max became a liability, and he was capable of advocating for himself…

What was Maria up to? Maybe Michael should invite everyone around for breakfast instead of Thursday nights drinking; but then again, he enjoyed hosting Thursdays too much to draw attention to himself with a suggestion for a change of plans, in case everyone noticed and popped the soap bubble. He was pitiful enough already; any shift at all would be perilously close to begging.

Michael flipped the pancakes over and pictured doing the same to his stupid maudlin thoughts, getting out of his head and focusing instead on the patterns on the pancakes. One had a line going down the middle that almost resembled one of the sides of the alien symbol. That’d be something easy enough to make if he wanted to try his hand at something as frivolous as pancake art, but then, was he bold enough to go out of his way to create something they barely understood like that?

Jones would probably know the meaning of the symbol. He spent seventy years trapped behind it.

Nope. Michael’s ears prickled and he almost turned around to glance Max’s way; he had to force his head to stay still. No thoughts of Jones right now. Fuck that guy.

He slid the pancakes from the griddle to a waiting plate and poured three more. His phone buzzed in his back pocket, so he fished it out and thumbed it open. He had a text from Isobel, but nothing from Liz, still. And nothing from Alex, either, even though…whatever, it was fine, he’d probably fallen right asleep after a six-hour round trip to the airport last night. Michael would try calling him again later. Maybe. Or maybe he’d overstepped in asking him to check in. Alex didn’t owe him anything, he had a boyfriend, he was fine. Maybe Michael should just leave him alone.

The text from Isobel read: How are things going out there.

He texted back: Fine. Making breakfast.

 It smells good. How’s Max?

Michael chanced a look over his shoulder; Max had his head down, focused on his journal, so Michael couldn’t see his face.

 Tired.

From further in the house, Isobel’s door opened and shut, and Michael shoved his phone back in his pocket and flipped the pancakes, which had gotten a little over-experienced on one side.

“Morning,” Max said in a hoarse voice.

“Morning.”

Isobel dropped down onto the couch, almost landing on Max’s feet, which he yanked out of the way.

“How was your night?” she asked softly.

“Iz…”

“Max.”

“You know how it was.”

“Please, just talk to me.”

They were quiet for a bit, with only the sizzle of the pancakes filling the silence as Michael flipped them, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and turned around again.

Max and Isobel were staring at each other; Michael didn’t think Isobel was in his mind, more that they were just doing the freaky twin thing. Either way, it wasn’t going well, if the tense and drawn looks on both their faces were anything to go by.

“One of you want to help me out in here?” He interrupted them bluntly, handing Max the out as Isobel shot him an unhappy look.

Sure enough, Max took him up on it, swinging his legs around and standing up, going to put his journal in his room (away from Isobel’s prying eyes) before coming back to the kitchen and fetching silverware, plates, and syrup. He spread them out on the kitchen table—Isobel hadn’t gone full breakfast nook, much to her mother’s dismay—and took a seat, Isobel ambling over, while Michael slid the last pancakes onto the plate and brought them over to serve.

“Thanks, Michael,” Max said, taking his first.

“No problem.”

Isobel took her own, too, but she didn’t even pick up her fork and knife, folding her arms on the table and staring at Max with a line between her eyes.

“Please talk to us. Or, if it’s hard to put into words, let me look inside your head. Maybe I can make sense of what you’re seeing in dreams—memories—whatever they are.”

“There’s nothing to make sense of,” Max snapped. “Nothing I haven’t told you before. It’s the same nightmare from years ago, being chained to the floor.” His voice faded, and he said much quieter, “It’s the dread that keeps me awake. But I can’t tell if it’s dread for what will happen to me…or what I’ll do to someone else. I don’t know if I’m afraid of Jones, Louise, or myself.”

“Jones, of course.” Isobel’s eyes flashed, and she folded her arms. “When do we run errands for him again? I’d like to have a chat.”

“Please don’t make things worse,” Max said wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

He really did look exhausted. Haggard and gray in a way Michael hadn’t seen since the days after they brought him back to life. How long could he keep going like this?

“Have you talked to Kyle?” he asked.

“Yeah. But what is he supposed to do? I can’t go in for a sleep study or anything, sleeping pills don’t work, we don’t have a lot of options.”

“The fact that you think confronting him might make things worse just proves that he’s doing something to you!” Isobel burst out.

“How could he be doing something to me from underground, twenty-five miles away? What is he doing, breaking into your house, past the security Alex installed specifically for you, and disappearing into the night after just…giving me a bad dream?”

“We don’t know everything he can do with his powers, no matter how much work I’m putting in. Maybe he is!”

Michael watched back and forth as they argued, Isobel’s anger and worry, Max withdrawing deeper into himself. Breakfast was forgotten, unsurprisingly, Michael’s attempt at caring for his siblings insufficient for the situation they were in.

“Whatever!” Isobel said, pushing herself back from the table. “You’re not him, Max. I don’t care how many times I have to tell you before it sinks in. You’re not him, he can’t be trusted, and I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger because you’re too trusting.”

She stormed off before Max could respond, slamming her bedroom door in an echo of every fight the two of them had ever had, going back decades into childhood.

“And what about you?” Max asked Michael, his arms folded, body slumped in his chair. “You’ve usually got an opinion on my life.”

Michael snorted and didn’t take the bait, not caring if Max sensed his newfound restraint was born of pity. “I don’t know,” he said. “I think having an evil clone sucks. Better you than me.”

The words rang false. Michael would take every nightmare and sleepless night if he could. But hopefully Max was too tired to drag that out of hiding.

“Having an evil clone does suck.”

“Cheers.”

Michael clinked his glass of OJ against Max’s and downed it.

“Everything I thought I knew—everything I thought I was—it was all just a lie,” Max said, staring at the table. “Who am I supposed to ask, if not him? Maybe a new lie would be better than having nothing. Lies Jones tells…I don’t have any way of disproving. It would be something. Fucking anything. Isobel doesn’t understand.”

“Maybe she doesn’t understand your perspective,” Michael allowed. “But what she understands better than either of us is how mind control works. Buddying up with Jones is literally playing with fire, considering one of the four things we know for sure about him is that his first act on Earth was burning Hector Valenti alive for shits and giggles.”

Max raked his hand through his hair. “If it means I can get some fucking sleep? I might be willing to roll those dice.”

Michael’s eyes fell away from the exhaustion on his brother’s face. What was there to say to that? The only protection he could offer would be pollen to hopefully keep Jones from fucking with him, but with Liz still ignoring him, he wasn’t confident that the weakening effect of the pollen wouldn’t have a worse effect on Max’s already compromised health. Maybe he should get Valenti’s advice, but what would he even have to say? They had no way to test something like this.

So Michael was useless. What else was new.

“Isobel’s just scared of you getting hurt, man. Nothing’s changed for her; you’re not any less her person than you were six months ago.”

“Yeah, I know,” Max said with a sigh. “I just want to talk to him. Want to make him talk. I’ve thought about using L—about using some serum to get answers, withholding the antidote until…”

He trailed off, and lifted his eyes, and Michael looked at him, and he looked back, and tears welled up in Max’s heavy eyes.

“Max,” Michael said.

“I know,” he choked.

Last time they had a conversation like this, their roles were reversed, and Max had a gun. But they had nothing, now, the only thing between them the table laden with the breakfast Michael cooked, sun streaming pleasantly through Isobel’s gauzy curtains. Michael stood—Max flinched at the scrape of chair legs across the floor—and he rounded the table, fisted his hand in Max’s t-shirt, and hauled him in, hugging him tightly to his chest.

Michael left Isobel’s place an hour later, after he and Max had separated without saying a word and cleaned up the kitchen, saving the pancakes for later, also in silence. Isobel stayed in her room, so Michael resolved to call her later as Max convinced him to leave, that things would be fine.

But just because Michael capitulated and left eventually didn’t mean he felt any lighter as he rattled down the road home, his phone bouncing along on the seat beside him. He’d never been so attached to the damn thing, but with everything going on with Max, with Jones walking around, with Project Shepherd rearing its head, quiet moments were indistinguishable from the teeth of a trap just visible around him. So the phone went where he did for the foreseeable. If someone called, if someone needed him, he’d be there.

He pulled into the junkyard and sat up stiff when he saw a familiar black SUV waiting for him. The day was warm and bright, no weather for a fire, but Alex was there at the fire pit, hands folded between his knees, eyes fixed on some point in space. He glanced up and waved, one corner of his mouth picking up in a distracted-looking smile as Michael pulled closer and parked.

“Hey,” he called, clearing the ground between them in a few long strides.

“Hey,” Alex responded.

“What’s up? You’re super early—Thursday’s still a few days away.”

“It doesn’t have to be a Thursday for me to want to see you,” Alex said, and, heart fluttering, Michael swept his hat off his head just for something to do with his hands.

“You, uh, you didn’t text me last night. Or this morning,” Michael blurted.

“I know. I’m sorry. When I got in last night, I—didn’t want to wake you up, and this morning…it was kind of a rough night. It slipped my mind.”

“Don’t gotta apologize. I was just worried, is all.”

“Then I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“I just said you don’t have to apologize.”

Michael sat himself down in the chair beside Alex and squeezed his knee to reassure him; his eyes fell to Michael’s hand, so he pulled it away self-consciously, stomach twisting when, a few seconds later, Alex rubbed his own hand over the spot Michael touched.

Fingers tapping nervously, he settled his hands on his own knees in a mirror of Alex’s position and said, “So what brings you out here? What can I do for you?”

“Oh, I just,” Alex pre-empted his next words with a shrug. “Wanted to say hi.”

“Oh.”

Michael didn’t quite know what to do with that, how to exist without a looming crisis, no matter how many Thursdays’ worth of practice he got. Most of those were about triaging some kind of bullshit in someone’s life anyway.

Casting round for a conversation topic, he said, “You look tired.”

As if commenting on his appearance was so neutral and inoffensive. Way to go, Guerin.

Before Alex had to try and come up with a response to a comment that inane, Michael added, “Of course, you were up all last night. Stupid question.”

Alex laughed, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, but it’s true I’ve had a lot on my mind lately anyway.”

Michael itched to reach out again. First Max, now Alex, and there was nothing he could do for either of them.

“If you need, Isobel can make Fields leave town,” he said. “I know it’s not exactly above board, but I want her gone as much as anyone, so…”

“No,” Alex shot down. “We don’t know what kind of defenses a Project Shepherd operator might have, and I won’t put a target on Isobel. It’s not just Fields, either, it’s personal stuff, too. Life’s not exactly stress-free.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

They fell quiet, but at least Alex settled back in his chair, relaxing from his tightly coiled posture enough that Michael forced his own shoulders to drop too.

“So how’re things going with Forrest?” he asked.

“Oh, uh, fine. Landed safely in DC. I need to text him back, actually.”

The question had been more about the general state of the relationship than Forrest’s physical wellbeing or whereabouts, but Michael wasn’t going to push past Alex’s discomfort or misunderstanding. No matter how far they progressed in their friendship, they might never get to the “dishing their romantic joys and woes” stage, not with their history. That was okay.

Alex made no move to take his phone out and send that text. Something else was clearly still weighing on him, so Michael resolved to quiet his own self until Alex was able to speak.

“I thought I saw my brother. At the airport,” he said eventually, folding his arms across his chest.

Michael sat up straight. “What? Which one?” By the tone in his voice, it clearly wasn’t Greg.

“Clay. If it was Flint, how bad I freaked out might at least make a little more sense,” Alex said with a snort and a shake of his head.

“What…what happened?”

“Nothing drastic. I chased some guy into the bathroom ready to confront him, but then it wasn’t Clay and I managed to play it off. Probably freaked Forrest out with the way I was acting.”

A pang went through Michael’s chest at the thought of Alex, alone and three hours away with only Forrest, who knew nothing of the truth about Alex’s family and the conflict between them, for backup. If it had been Clay—if he’d gotten the best of Alex in that shitty airport bathroom like Jesse did in the junkyard—

Michael rubbed his chest over his painfully racing heart.

Alex continued, “I can’t be sure. If he was tailing me specifically or if he suspected I noticed him—I only checked one set of stalls; I was too conscious of how I was acting.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “But I’m probably just seeing things, and it was just a similar-looking guy in a crowd, and I seriously need to figure my shit out.”

“Well, join the club,” Michael said. “It’s alright, man. It’s not like you worried over nothing; your family don’t know when to quit.”

“Forrest thinks working with Project Shepherd might help. He thinks it could help me understand my father more, and therefore move on,” Alex said with a humorless smile, a flat-soda expression, blankness where it shouldn’t be.

“He what?”

“Ugh, no, that’s not fair.” Alex ran his hands over his face again. The front of his hair stuck up from how many times he’d mussed it. “He doesn’t know. Anything except that my father and brothers are bastards—minus Greg. He didn’t mean anything by it—I shouldn’t be so fixated on it. I didn’t even realize I was until it just…came out.”

Michael couldn’t reach out and touch him to give him comfort; that wasn’t allowed. But he could go grab him a beer, so he did, and let him compose himself without Michael hovering. When they both had drinks and he was settled back in his chair, Michael took in Alex’s appearance again, the wrinkled collar of his black canvas jacket, the dark circles under his eyes, the tightness of his hands clasped between his knees. So much tension he could do nothing to soothe. He worried the inside of his lip between his teeth until he tasted nails.

“Have you heard from Greg lately? Maybe he would know if Clay was really in the area,” he said.

Alex shook his head. “No. With Fields and Project Shepherd hanging around, I don’t want him involved.”

And that, Michael couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just let Isobel take care of—”

“I said no, Michael!” Alex snapped, head jerking up, his eyes black and glittering and finally meeting Michael’s, and now it was Michael’s turn to want to look away, but he couldn’t. “Getting any of the three of you involved, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

“I’m already involved if you’re involved,” Michael protested, gesturing wildly. “I’m not letting you face this bullshit by yourself!”

Alex’s nostrils flared. “I can take care of myself.”

“Duh. But you don’t always have to. I’m going to have your back.”

“Not if you get bagged and pumped full of anti-alien drugs, you won’t. I’m not letting my father’s legacy hurt you again, no matter what you say.”

Helplessness rose in Michael’s lungs like water, like flood and fury. His fingers flexed around his beer bottle, and he dropped it into the chair’s flimsy cupholder before he threw it away.

All the soft spots they’d ever shown each other, all the ways they knew to dig in and hurt, and new pain was still a revelation, Michael discovered as Alex set his jaw and bared this truth: he didn’t believe in Michael, didn’t trust him as an ally, saw him as a liability before he was absolutely anything else. A burden.

“I never asked you to protect me,” he said.

Alex’s face twisted. Michael wanted to take the words back, but he didn’t know which ones. Maybe all of them.

He replied, “You never had to.” Then he stood. “I should get going. Thanks for the beer.”

And he got in his car and was gone.

Michael sat for a while. It was late afternoon, and it was hot, but Michael stared into old ashy iron like he was watching a bonfire. Storm clouds built up all billowy on the horizon. Static built up inside Michael’s head.

But it wasn’t Max’s kind of static, kinetic static, moveable, actionable, dangerous. Just a lowkey anxious buzz, formless and useless, a passenger in his skull alongside thoughts he couldn’t parse, like Michael himself.

His whole life he’d been a passenger. On a ship, in the system, in his own life, in the lives of others.

Maybe it was time to change that.

There was only one road connecting Sanders’s to the main drag, so Michael’s tires hit the same ruts as Alex’s, at least for a little while. Then he was in town, then he hit the desert, and he was alone, at least for a little while. He rolled the window down to catch the breeze and squinted into the horizon.

Isobel was gonna fuckin’ kill him.

By the time he pulled up to the caves, the sun was hitting the stormclouds over town just right, burning them up against the broader lavender sky. He popped the glove compartment and grabbed the second pollen bracelet he’d made for Maria and slid it onto his wrist, pulling his sleeve down to cover it. He’d get it to her after this.

Climbing out of his truck, Michael stood and watched the sky for the while, the smudge of falling rain as the distant lights came on, and he smelled the storm, and the wind of it tugged his hair in a hundred different directions.

He headed inside as the first few raindrops reached him.

The tunnel wound long and dark into the earth, and Michael took it slow, hands in his pockets. Would Jones sense him coming, or would the bracelet protect him from even that? Isobel couldn’t sense Maria when she had the necklace on, but things were more uncertain with Jones. Even Michael, hollow-headed and senseless to so much of the psychic feedback Max and Isobel claimed they were capable of, couldn’t help but know when one of them was approaching. So, as advanced as Jones was, who knew what he would be able to sense.

He followed the ragged old footpath to the end of it, one hand trailing on the rough wall, trying to picture how it happened that Jones was marched down here and sealed away. And despite everything else he felt, he felt a twinge of pity—maybe they should let Jones choose a new place to hide out, somewhere away from his seven-decade prison.

The ground beneath his feet was worn by his mother’s feet, among so many ancient others, but walking it brought him no closer to understanding her, understanding anything. His mind reached out and came up empty for answers, again, and again, and again, and he understood, why the DeLuca women made the choices they did, what made the future and the past and the road between them worth any other sacrifice.

He came to the end of the path, where there was no door to knock on.

“Michael! What a pleasant surprise.”

Despite his words, Jones was the picture of serenity, clothes clean and pin-straight as always, hair and beard well-groomed, his cave home as neat and tidy as possible. He wasn’t nearly perturbed enough to actually be shocked by the visit.

“Cut the crap, you knew I was coming,” Michael said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t worthy of a welcome,” Jones replied. “Come in, have a seat, and tell me what brings you here.”

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

Jones held up his hands, an edge of mockery to the motion, and he crossed the cave to his hot plate, where he had a pot of tea brewing.

“I suppose I shouldn’t bother offering you any?” He asked as he poured himself a mug.

Michael ignored that statement of the obvious and said, “Are you fucking with Max’s head?”

Adding sugar and stirring his tea and setting himself down on his one chair, Jones took his sweet time before he answered.

“Now, Michael.”

He sounded almost disappointed, like a school principal. It put Michael’s back up; he worked his jaw back and forth, unable to stay still, but maintaining every muscle of his body to keep from looking as much like a surly, misbehaved child.

Jones continued, “I couldn’t begin to tell you what’s going on in Max’s head, as much as I’d love to be of assistance. But then, if you were serious about getting him some help, you would have brought him along with you, now wouldn’t you? How about you tell me what this is really about.”

“Like I’m stupid?” Michael scoffed. “Giving you access to Max is the last thing we’re going to do. All I need to know is how desperate you are to get in good with him to know that.”

“And how would Max feel if he knew that you thought so little of him that you think him not capable of making his own decisions? I bet he doesn’t even know you’re here right now. Would he thank you for what you’re doing right now, Michael?”

Shut the fuck up. Michael didn’t bark it out loud; he held his tongue in the face of the glint in Jones’s eye. He was being toyed with, as ever. The beads of the bracelet were cool and smooth against his skin, and he couldn’t do anything but hope they were working as he resisted the urge to fiddle with them and draw attention to his attempt at self-defense.

“I don’t get thanked for a lot of shit,” Michael said flippantly, stepping further into the cave. “But it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

Jones just gave him a beatific smile at that, taking a deep swig of his tea.

“Well, I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, but without Max here for me to examine, there’s really nothing I can tell you. Perhaps we’ll all sit down together the next time you three come through with supplies.”

Fists clenching in his pockets, Michael scrambled for a way to speak up that wouldn’t put him on his back foot, wouldn’t give Jones all the advantage; at least, no more than he already had, now that Michael had come to him. But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—be dismissed. Not if he wanted to be strong enough to support Max, strong enough to stand beside Isobel.

Strong enough to protect Alex. To never be a burden on him again. A pillar of strength, never a weak spot. He had to be better, more, than he was. Jones was an imperfect key, but the shackles around him were too heavy, too tight to stand any longer, so without any other way to free himself, he groped in the dark for anything that fit the hole.

Fuck it. Silence wasn’t making his position any stronger.

“What if I told you let’s play ball?” he demanded.

“What do you mean?” Jones asked mildly.

“You’re always going on about all the things you could do for us if we gave you a chance. Well—I’m here. Asking. I want to be stronger, so. Teach me.”

Jones leapt to his feet, sloshing tea over his pants and hastily putting the mug to the side as he spread his arms wide.

“Michael, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad you’re finally ready to take the next step.”

“It’s not wonderful, it’s not anything,” Michael snapped back. “I just want you to teach me what you know about using our powers so I can get something other than the telekinesis going. Don’t get excited.”

“Of course! Of course.” Jones summoned a towel from the box he used as a bedside table and dabbed at the tea stains on his clothes. Then he paused, giving Michael a wry look. “If I’m teaching you, you can’t spend the whole time standing in the doorway. Take a seat on the bed so we can talk.”

What served as his bed was the mattress from Isobel’s old guest room, and Michael sat on it cross-legged, folding his arms and leaning back against the cave wall.

“Now, tell me. When did you first develop your ability to move things at will?”

“Uh. I dunno, I was a kid, we don’t know our exact ages. But I was probably around eleven, it wasn’t long after I came back to Roswell. Some…stuff was going on in my life, I was mad all the time, and one day when I got really pissed, it just happened.”

Jones was nodding as Michael spoke, and he poured a second mug of tea, stirred some sugar into it, and handed it to Michael, who still wasn’t drinking a damn thing this guy gave him, so he set it aside. As he prepared the tea, his chair moved across the ground to sit across from Michael and he sat himself down in it.

“That’s common in all children,” Jones said.

He radiated an aura of calm that had Michael’s skin crawling, blunt nails digging into his knees. But even as his senses paced, waiting for the trap to slam shut, he had to force himself not to reach for these scraps of affirmation—the slightest confirmation that he wasn’t the freak he’d grown up feeling he was—like some new and fragile green thing toward the sun.

Jones continued, “Emotional outbursts, that is. Early adolescence is a little old to come into your activation, but not abnormal, and considering the environment you were raised in…” His voice dripped disapproval, to the point Michael opened his mouth, furiously set to defend his own orphaning, but Jones didn’t leave room for interruption. “Well. Frankly I’m shocked yourself and Isobel developed anything at all. We never could have tested the capacity for offspring to activate in the complete absence of communal psychic feedback…or even the capacity to survive and mature. And Isobel, at the very least, had Max. You…you were completely alone, weren’t you? To do that to a child, in our society, would have been, forgive the expression, inhumane,” Jones smiled, as if he’d told a joke. “But, here you are, despite such awful neglect. It’s wonderful.”

Uncomfortable, Michael flexed his left hand and flattened both palms over his knees, dragging them slow and hard against the rough texture of denim. “It’s not like I did anything special. Just survived like any other kid.”

“Well, pardon me, but you survived like any human child. And you are quite a bit more than that.”

There was a time Michael might have agreed with him, angry and hurting and needy to be anything that wasn’t garbage someone left by the side of the road. Litter, lower than garbage that someone cared enough to put in its proper place. But now, praise like that—if it could be called praise—just put him more on edge.

“Can we get on with it?” he asked. “I don’t actually have all day. I don’t have a set schedule with Sanders, so regular lessons might be hard to make, but I can work something out with him…”

“Oh, never fear,” Jones replied. “The first step is the hardest. If you had had a responsible parent, this knowledge would have been introduced slowly, but as it is…”

“Hey!”

“As it is, your mother’s gone, so it falls to me. Isobel will come around too, in time. It’s good for the both of you that I’ve always considered myself a teacher before anything else.”

Jones got to his feet.

What the fuck was Michael thinking? He rose along with him, but Jones had the advantage, and he seized Michael by the temples before he could get to his full height.

“All the things you haven’t seen, haven’t felt or learned—” Jones enthused, “You, your sister, your brother, all your raw potential…I’m so glad you’re finally ready to take the first step toward seeing it realized.”

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

One hand wrenched tighter in Michael’s hair as the other snatched his wrist. He shook it in front of Michael’s eyes, face serious, voice booming.

“This? Is sacrilege.”

His nail scraped the thin skin of Michael’s wrist as he shoved a finger between the cord and him and yanked, then tossed the broken trinket away.

“Now, don’t struggle. This may hurt a little, but pain, I’ve found, is a powerful teacher.”

His hands began to glow, searing into Michael’s skin, so bright his eyes streamed, and he gasped for air in the heat and the pain, writhing in Jones’s grip, thrashing, but Jones gripped him tight and poured light into him.

It went on for seconds, an eternity, seven decades of lonely torture, then the light died, and Jones took his hands away, and Michael fell.

Every cell burned, an ant crawling, biting beneath his skin, in triple vision he stared at his shaking hands expecting to see his veins lit from inside, imprinted on his visual receptors shifting gold and pink and violet, scrawled with shimmering symbols, words he could read, words that had meaning that capsized under the next wave, he couldn’t grab hold of it, not for pain and not for wisdom, there was no order, sign and signifier, his mind was a symphony in a single note, cacophonous, fundamental, elemental, atomic disorder of minutes compressed to an instant.

He was screaming. He heard screaming. The sky was red and he held himself, screaming. The sky was blue, and he remembered screaming.

“M-M-M-i-i-i-c-c-c-h-h-h-a-a-a-e-e-e-l-l-l—"

Three voices spoke to him—he heard them three times. There had to be three, and there were, bending over him, hurting hands outstretched.

Get away! he cried, but it left his mouth as a wordless howl, and he flung out a hand, sending Jones flying away from him, slamming against the far wall of the cave.

While he was stunned, Michael scrambled to his feet—got himself moving, somehow, trapped in the chaos and agony he had no sense left of his own body, but he propelled it down the tunnel, stumbling and catching himself and where his hand hit the wall he left behind a handprint of pearlescent glass. He let out a moan of confusion and dread but couldn’t do anything but carry on, toward the sky.

The storm was loud enough to drown out whispers, cold enough to sting and soothe his skin, and he threw his head back to drown in the relief, rain in his eyes, in his ears and nose and mouth as he panted to the sky.

His vision still wove triple, in and out, but—had to get away—he staggered toward his truck anyway, but he lifted his foot, put it down, again, third time, then he was blinking, collapsing, clutching a slat of wood—park bench—center of town, how did he—he stepped again, and—gone.

When he landed he fell to his hands and knees, scraped them, parking lot, stared at his blood on the outside, until more blood joined the grit on the heels of his palms, and the agony, in three waves, poured out his mouth, out his nose, out his eyes, and there was only one thing he could do.

He screamed for his brother, for the healer, for Max.

He forced himself upright and—had to trust—where to put his feet—he sent himself to safety, to shelter, home.

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 13: Jim

Ao3

Content warning: descriptions of raw meat, mentions of violence, toxic thought patterns.

“You know hon, you’re going to have to talk to Toby eventually.”

Jim jolted, smacking the top of his head against the underside of the cabinet, it didn’t hurt in the slightest, but the loud crunch as he made contact did not bode well for the cabinet.

Barbara winced and set her coffee mug down on the table “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,”

Jim pulled back and stood up straight, grimacing when he caught sight of the broken boards and deep gouges his horns had left in the wood. They were going to have to hire someone to come in and fix that “It’s ok,”

“I’m just...concerned, if you two are having problems things aren’t going to get better unless you both address them,”

“Yeah, I know,”

He regretted the flippant words as soon as he said them, getting a glimpse of the look of hurt and worry on his mom’s face.

 “Can you tell me why you guys are fighting?” she said softly

Jim looked away, turning his eyes back down to his...food on the counter “It’s complicated,” 

It didn’t look like that answer satisfied Barbara at all, but rather than push further she just frowned and went back to her breakfast.

Jim felt bad for being so evasive, but that was vastly overshadowed by just how relieved he was that she was willing to drop it. He finished grabbing the empty jars and frozen plastic wrapped rabbit and headed over to the table to join her. Eating this close to sunrise usually gave him wicked stomach cramps, but he’d put it off for too long already, and he was too hungry to wait another hour and a half to eat a normal breakfast.

So he didn’t waste any time downing all the jars and getting started on the rabbit.

“Are just you and Toby having problems, or does this involve the girls to?”

Jim froze mid bite, a fresh wave of guilt and anxiety crashing into him. The hand holding the half eaten rabbit dropped down to the table. He hung his head, the weight of his horns tugging it down even further. Even without looking he could practically feel the hurt on his mom’s face, which made him feel even worse.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m prying, but I’m worried about you,”

He heard her setting down her fork and clasping her hands together “I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me everything that goes on with you and your friends, but…” 

Barbara sighed “I was young once to. I know how high emotions can run, and how the littlest things seem to matter so much-- but they aren’t worth throwing your friendships away,”

Jim risked raising his head to look at her better. Briefly meeting her eyes and getting a peek of her melancholy smile.

As soon as she caught sight of him, Barbara sat up a little straighter and continued, emboldened by the eye contact “If you did something wrong, and I’m not saying you did, avoiding them won’t make it go away. Things can’t get better if you don’t apologize and start rebuilding trust. And if one of them did something to upset you…”

She paused, pulling in a deep breath “Then you have every right to feel hurt and angry, but you need to tell them that. Your friends can’t read your mind, you need to communicate how you’re feeling with them,”

Expectant silence filled the air, Barbara’s gaze stayed on him, patiently waiting for his response.

Jim forced himself to maintain eye contact, very deliberately did not ball his hands into fists, and only opened his mouth to speak once he was sure he could do it in a neutral tone of voice “You’re right...I’ll try to talk to them at lunch today, see if we can clear the air”

Whether she actually believed him or saw the cracks in his facade and decided not to push him further, Barbara’s only response was to smile, give a soft ‘I think that’s a great idea’, and go back to eating.

Which made him feel ten times worse about the fact that he intended to do no such thing.

He looked back down at the rabbit in his hand, stomach in knots. Even though it was the absolute last thing he felt like doing, Jim lifted the rabbit back up and forced himself to take another bite.

When you mess up you need to apologize, when your friends mess up you need to let them know that they hurt you.

But what do you do when it’s both of those things? Or maybe even neither?

He knew his mom was only trying to help, but this was way out of her league.

Jim wasn’t trying to keep secrets or shut her out. But Toby and the girls were straight up accusing her of abuse. How could telling her do anything but hurt her? 

They had threatened to send her to prison for crying out loud.

And maybe he was wrong or maybe they were, but bottom line, Jim couldn’t tell Toby and the girls the truth.

If this was how they reacted to just some scratches on a door...he couldn’t risk it.

He swallowed and glanced at what was left of the rabbit through the plastic, butchered and cleaned but still very clearly a rabbit, the ends he’d been chewing on bright red and bloody.

There was a monster here all right, but it wasn’t his mom.

Jim forced down the last of the macabre excuse of what passed for his breakfast and hurried back into the kitchen to start on their lunches. When it was time for Barbara to leave she kissed him on the cheek and thanked him before heading out the door.

And didn’t say anything about the fact he’d just made two instead of three, even though he knew she’d noticed.

He did his best to avoid thinking about it; but before he knew it the sun was up, he was normal again, and it was time to leave for school.

Jim sluggishly changed out of his now baggy t-shirt and jeans into his regular clothes, threw his messenger bag over his shoulder, and forced himself out the door, making a bee line for his bike. It didn’t look like Toby was waiting around to ambush him. But Jim didn’t want to give any openings just in case he was hiding in the bushes, which he’d tried a few days ago.

Fortunately that didn’t happen, and Jim was able to start pedaling to school in peace.

As glad as he was about being about to get to school without having to dodge a confrontation, Jim had definitely been taking Toby’s presence on their morning ride for granted. Less than two weeks and he already couldn’t stand the silence.

But as much as it sucked that’s just the way things had to be now.

All too soon he pulled up to the school. Jim headed around the building towards the bike rack, not one of the ones he and Toby liked to use, but the one near the gym that Steve and his cronies frequented. Hopefully they’d already gone in and Jim could avoid running into them directly.

His heart sank when he pulled up and saw Steve and Logan chatting by the end of the rack. So much for avoiding confrontation. Trying to be as discreet as possible, Jim quietly dismounted and started locking in his bike on the opposite side of the rack from them, praying to go unnoticed.

Unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, parking your dweeby bike next to ours?” Steve stomped over, a snickering Logan right on his heels.

Jim slammed his lock shut, what little remained of his patience gone “I thought that when people saw my lame bike next to your cool one it would make yours look better by comparison,” he said in a complete deadpan.

Steve’s face blanked as he faltered, unable to come up with a response. Jim tried to take advantage of the lull to get away, but he wasn’t quick enough. Steve stepped in front of him and snarled, looming in his personal space to block his exit. 

“You’d better tell me what your game is!”

Jim met Steve’s gaze without flinching, normally he wouldn’t try to butt heads with a guy who was called ‘Psycho Steve’ for darn good reason, but after everything he’d been through in the past week and a half Jim couldn’t be bothered to tip toe around him right now “Figure it out yourself Steve, because believe it or not I have bigger problems than your microscopic IQ,”

In hindsight that had probably been the worst thing he could have said. Steve’s face darkened, arm shooting out and grabbing Jim’s collar. 

Logan, still hovering behind him, let out a short laugh “Wrong answer Lake,” he said with a smirk.

Steve didn’t say anything, slowly raising his other hand in a fist. Jim winced preemptively and tried to brace himself for the coming blow.

But just before Steve could start rearranging his teeth, Coach Lawrence poked his head out of the gym door, causing all three of them to jump in surprise “Class starts in five minutes, everyone cut the chit chat and get in here!”

He snapped his head in their direction “Kish, Palchuk, that means you!”

Steve growled, but dropped his fist. The second Coach ducked back inside he shoved Jim into the bike rack before stomping towards the gym.

“This isn’t over Crybaby,”

He stalked off, Logan following shortly after. 

Jim glowered at Steve’s retreating back before pulling himself up and heading to his own class.

Getting teeth pulled was more fun than spending any time within a ten foot radius of Steve, but it was still better than the burning, queasy feeling he got in his gut whenever Toby, Claire, Mary, or Darci looked at him.

He breathed deeply and tried to force the sudden spike of stress down to a manageable level, Jim knew they meant well, he really did, and he knew all this stuff with curfews and scratched doors was scaring them, but he couldn’t tell them. 

Last week had been the closest he’d ever come to spilling the beans, when Toby had jumped him in the bathroom, begging Jim to tell him the truth, promising he wouldn’t go to the cops, Jim had almost done it. He had been so close to just unloading and telling Toby everything. But at the last second he’d bolted. Later once he’d had time to sit down and really think about what had just happened, he’d been really glad that he didn’t.

No matter how much Toby and the girls begged and demanded and insisted Jim could trust them with the truth, the fact was he just couldn’t, no matter how much he did or didn’t want to.

He fumbled with dial in an effort to open his locker.

Jim was a monster, and worse a liar. If the girls ever figured out what he really was...well they wouldn’t run screaming in terror that’s for sure. Maybe Darci would, but chances are she’d be helping Claire decapitate him while Mary filmed the whole thing. And Toby…

His throat tightened unexpectedly, struggling to grab his textbooks as his hands started to shake. That was the worst part, deep down he just didn’t know how Toby would react. Would he be crushed by the knowledge that his ‘best friend’ had never been what he’d seemed? Horrified that he’d never spotted the monster living across the street from him? Furious that Jim had lied to him for over a decade?

Knowing Jim’s luck it would be some unholy combination of all three.

Shutting his locker with much more force than needed, he turned down the hall towards Señor Uhl’s room.

So telling the truth was off the table, but the four of them had made it clear that they weren’t going to let this go any time soon. And they still had the pictures, and the recording Mary made.

Jim had been on edge for days after they’d first confronted him. Terrified that they’d gone ahead to the police with their evidence, and at any moment cops bust open the door and drag his mom away in handcuffs.

But a few days passed without incident, aside from hundreds of texts from all four of them, not an exaggeration, literally hundreds, Jim had slowly allowed himself to relax.

That and the fact that they were still badgering him told Jim that they needed more than just the photos and the audio to go to the police with, they needed him to. And if he didn’t go along with them there was nothing they could do to his mom.

Of course that didn’t explain why his phone had been disturbingly silent for the past two days.

He shook off the worries, Jim had more than enough of those right now, the last thing he needed was to go inventing more. If his friends had realized they couldn’t get him to say anything well then good for them. The important thing was for Jim to stay silent and not respond to their prying, in person or over the phone. As a long term solution it sucked, but he wasn’t about to get better alternatives any time soon.

His stomach was constantly in knots and it felt like he was walking on eggshells 24/7, but he couldn’t take the risk of dropping his guard even a little.

Jim rounded the corner only to freeze midstep. Two people were standing on the other end of the hall quietly chatting with each other. But not just any two people; Toby and Mary. And at the sound of his footsteps their gazes swiveled towards him, piercing him on the spot.

His heart rate tripled.

Ok, no big deal, looks like he was taking the long way to spanish today. 

Heart still going a mile a minute, Jim pivoted on his heel, stopping dead when he saw Claire and Darci in the hall behind him, blocking any escape.

Two might be a coincidence, but four? No way. This was an ambush, how long had they been planning this?

Now that he was pinned from either side, they started walking towards him.

Yep, definitely an ambush.

Jim tightened his grip on the strap of his bag. Stay calm, they might have cornered him but they couldn’t make him talk. And if he didn’t talk they couldn’t get anything that they could use to press charges against his mom. The five of them couldn’t stay here in the hall forever, sooner or later a teacher would come by to shuffle them all off to their classes. All Jim needed to do was stay quiet and wait them out.

The four stopped their approach at about three feet away. Jim braced himself, getting ready for the onslaught of begging and accusations.

Toby stepped up to him, breaking the silence “Jim, you don’t have to say anything, I-- we just need to tell you…” he dropped his gaze “We’re sorry, I’m sorry,”

Jim’s jaw dropped.

He what?

There were no words any one of them could have said that would have floored him more. He wondered if he’d actually heard Toby correctly. Right now Jim was too stunned to even react.

“All of us are,” Claire chimed in “We shouldn’t have pushed so hard, especially after you told us we were wrong,”

For over a week Jim had been hoping against hope for them to just drop this and back off, but now that that was, apparently, happening it almost didn’t seem real. If it weren’t for the fact that the school wasn’t made of gingerbread and he still had his pants on Jim would’ve thought that he was dreaming “I-- you-- you what?”

Darci looked nervously from side to side “Can we take this into the computer lab?” she gestured to the door off to the side “Somewhere a little more private than the hallway?”

“Uh...ok,”

They all stepped into the unoccupied room, Darci flicking on the lights and Toby pulling the door shut behind them.

Meanwhile the shock had subsided and suspicion was starting to creep in.

Did they really want to let this go, or were they just trying to get him to drop his guard?

 Jim leaned against one of the desks in a way that he hoped came off as casual “So…what exactly is it you guys are saying?”

Toby grimaced “We shouldn’t have kept forcing the issue of the whole basement thing and your curfew the way we did, if you say everything with you and Dr. Lake is cool….we believe you,”

Jim slowly turned to look each of them in the eye, trying to spot any traces of nervousness or dishonesty “Are you guys for real on this?”

“Yeah,” Darci stepped forward “This is your family, as soon as you said everything was fine we should have just butted out,”

Claire came up beside her “That goes for all of us, we’re really sorry we pushed it too far and made you uncomfortable,”

Jim didn’t quite know what to think, on one hand this was exactly what he’d dreamed of happening for over a week, but on the other...there was one person here who hadn’t said anything yet, who was known for having a stubborn streak powerful enough to crush diamonds.

He turned towards Mary, not even trying to hide the distrust on his face “Then what about the recording you made?”

In the second biggest twist of the day, Jim was taken aback to see that Mary actually looked genuinely...remorseful “I lied, I didn’t record anything,” she came up to him and plopped her phone into his hand “Check for yourself, and you can go ahead and delete the pictures of the….racoon scratches,”

Her voice dropped “And I’m sorry to…” 

Jim heard her apology, but for the most part he was preoccupied with the device in his hand. To be honest he’d been starting to think this all sounded too good to be true; but if Mary was actually letting him go through her phone--

He still couldn’t believe he was holding it, it was like being handed the holy grail, only somehow more sacred.

Only about a minute or so of browsing through her phone and Jim knew Mary was telling the truth, the photos of the scratched door were there, she hadn’t sent them to anyone. And there was no audio recording in her main files or her autobackup. 

A tiny part of Jim was ticked that she’d tried to trick him using an imaginary recording, but that was eclipsed by the enormous relief he felt that the damning words he’d said had never been captured in the first place. 

It was like a massive weight being lifted off his shoulders as Jim permanently deleted the photos of the basement door. After handing the phone back he looked around at everyone, torn between his remaining doubts and giddiness at the idea that this may be over after all.

“So you guys are really going to stop bugging me about my curfew and rules and everything?”

They all nodded.

“Yep,”

“Absolutely,”

“One hundred percent,”

Toby came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, smiling wide “At lunch today what do you say we meet up at the food truck, figure out what we’re going to do over spring break, and forget all this ever happened?”

A tiny smile of his own curled on Jim’s face “Sounds great,”

They all filled out of the computer lab, Jim was last, flicking off the light switch as they left, actually relaxed for the first time in weeks.

Against all odds Toby and the girls had actually decided to let it go.

Jim felt so light he was practically walking on air. It was over. This horrible, screwed up mess was finally over. His secret was safe, his mom was safe. He wouldn’t have to spend every day swinging back and forth between anxiety and crippling loneliness. Jim could actually talk to his friends again, go back to actually having a life.

For the first time in a long time things were looking up.

[blancheludis]

@whumptober2020​, Day 6, “Get it out”

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, JARVIS, Bruce Banner Tags: Hidden Injury, 2012 Avengers, Hurt Tony, Team as Family Words: 4.129

Summary:

During a battle, Tony is injured by getting stabbed with a piece of his own armour. He hides it, of course he does, because he always dealt with these things alone. He has not counted on JARVIS and the bots ratting him out, however, and much less on Steve actually rushing to his side. Maybe he's more a part of the team than he thought. 

---

Once the doors of the workshop close behind Tony, breathing gets that much harder. Away from prying eyes, he does not have to stand so tall anymore, does not have to concentrate on making well-timed quips and generally live up to the invincible part of his name. He does not have to pretend he is one wrong movement away from passing out. Right now, there is only quiet, the flashing red of the alarm inside the HUD, and the pulsing pain in his abdomen, threatening to overwhelm him.  

Tony is not quite sure what hit him. The outside of the suit looks fine – apart from the obvious dents, but it does not have any glaring holes in it. They were fighting a group of AIM soldiers, but they did not seem to be particularly well-equipped. Although Tony has to admit that a few spectacularly devastating things have come out of their lab before. So, they either created a missile able to penetrate the suit without leaving much trace on the outside, or Tony almost killed himself with his own creation again by leaving exploitable weak points.

It does not matter. He is not dead and now that he is home he can sit down and sleep this off. Nobody has to know and once his brain is not flushed by adrenaline anymore, he can try to reinforce the places where the suit has failed him.

Taking as deep a breath as the pain allows, Tony takes a step forward. He will not have gained anything from collapsing right inside the door to the workshop. It is agony. Every little movement sends new shocks through his body until it feels like he is burning. The flashing red inside the HUD intensifies as if Tony does not notice he has a serious problem right now. But there is a first-aid kit stashed somewhere and he is already halfway to the assembly station. While Tony would like nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week or two, he needs to get the suit off first. He opens the face plate, relieved at the sudden lack of flashing red.

Another step, and JARVIS pipes up, sounding at once too formal and too urgent. His kid is worried. “Sir, if I might advise you to –”

“I won’t go to medical for a scratch,” Tony cuts him off and tries to put some authority in his tone, which is hampered by how little air he manages to get into his lungs.

“That scratch comes from a piece of your suit that has pierced your skin and runs approximately three inches deep,” JARVIS reports as if he thinks words will make Tony see reason. After an expectant pause, he adds, “With a considerable piece of metal still inside you.”

Bless modern technology, Tony thinks. What does he need the medical team for when his AI can diagnose him just as well, if not better? JARVIS knows him and does not needlessly prod him only to arrive at a conclusion Tony knew beforehand.  

What a way to go, though, impaled on his own suit. The press would certainly call it poetic justice, and Tony might be inclined to agree with them. He does not plan on dying, though. A lot of trouble is still ahead of them and the team still needs him if they want to stand a chance against the army closing in on them from space.

With a last shaking step, Tony gets on the platform and steadies himself by grabbing one of the robotic arms. “Well, then we need to get it out.”

Tony does not need a medical doctorate to know that is not the best of ideas, not without proper preparation. He believes in JARVIS’ abilities, though.

“Let me alert someone at least,” JARVIS all but pleads. “Dr. Banner –”

“- is not that kind of doctor. Weren’t you listening to him?” Tony asks and manages half a smile. He knows perfectly well that Bruce would be put out if he ever found out Tony refused to call him in for help, no matter his constant protest that they have trained professionals for that.

“And yet he’s more proficient at stitching people back together than you are,” JARVIS argues, sounding like he is one wrong word away from open rebellion.

“He’s not more proficient at stitching me back together, though.” And that, in Tony’s opinion, is the absolute truth. He does not make it easy on people – or AIs – he knows, but he takes care of himself and tries not to be too much of a problem for other people. That is just human decency. Especially considering how many issues he has.

“Sir.”

When JARVIS resorts to quiet disapproval, Tony almost feels bad, but he is too miserable to let anybody else in. “It’s okay, JARVIS, I’ll be right as rain in a minute.” He just hopes they will not be called out for another mission any time soon. The pain might get better once the metal is out, but he will still have a hole in his side, which will make moving, much less fighting, a tad difficult. “Now, get the suit off.”

The robotic arms stay still and Tony thinks for the thousandth time that he needs to create a better system for that. A suit of armour is nice to have, but he needs an easier way to get out of it without ruining the suit than stepping on the platform in his workshop and hoping that his AI is in the mood to indulge him.

“It’s highly inadvisable to just rip out the piece of metal inside you.” If JARVIS had a foot, Tony is sure he would stomp angrily.

“I’m sure that’s still better than leaving it in,” Tony answers, trying to remain standing. “I don’t have the best of immune systems, if you remember.” He pats the arc reactor gently.

Tony is half-convinced that JARVIS is playing for time. The longer he waits, the more likely it is that Tony will collapse, and then he will not have any other choice but to call for help. Well, that only makes Tony fight harder to stay conscious. Worse than handing himself over to medical is being handed over while he does not know what is happening to him.

“At least get the rest of it off,” he suggests, wondering why his kids have to be so stubborn.

Nothing happens for another long moment. Then the machine whirs to life, slower than usual. Tony is sure JARVIS works as gently as he can and yet the process hurts. The removal jostles him, pressing against bruises and the pulsing wound in his abdomen. Waves of black roll through Tony’s vision and it is all he can do to stay upright.

When the chest plate is lifted, the dented pieces cling to each other, tugging on Tony’s abdomen in a way that has hot red pain shooting through him, making his knees buckle. JARVIS catches him with the robotic arms, the chest plate clattering carelessly to the ground.

“I really must insist –” JARVIS’ voice sounds from far away, barely audible over the ringing in Tony’s ears.

Still, Tony shakes his head, or maybe the world is just spinning in front of him. He is not sure what is happening anymore. Then familiar beeping reaches him as JARVIS has the robotic arms deliver him into the fretful hold of DUM-E.

“Hey there, buddy,” Tony mutters. It ends in a groan as a chair is pushed against the backs of his knees and he involuntarily falls into it. Manhandled by his own kids. It is probably for the best. Even sitting down, it is hard to stay upright instead of falling right down to the floor.

This is okay, he tells himself over and over again. A mantra to cling to. He has had worse. It just hurts. Looking down at himself, he sees the dented piece of the suit. It is not even bleeding much.

“I am sure you are aware it will start bleeding the moment you try to move that piece.”

Sluggishly, Tony blinks up at the ceiling, wondering when JARVIS learned to read his mind. That could come in handy – at least when JARVIS is not admonishing him.

“I must insist you allow me to call someone,” JARVIS goes on, sounding almost frantic now.

Tony wonders whether he really looks that bad. It almost feels okay now. The pain is dulled, almost like a second heartbeat. He could just go to sleep and wake up when everything is over.

“Just get it out,” Tony says. He is tired and just wants to get this over with. Sitting up straighter despite the pain, Tony clarifies, “Butterfingers, get the firs-aid kit. U, hold me. And DUM-E, get it out.”

This is probably not the best task to give to DUM-E, whose motor control is leagues behind Butterfingers’, but he is Tony’s oldest and least likely to rebel, if only because Tony never programmed any common sense into him.

Closing his eyes, Tony grabs the sides of the chair and braces himself for more pain – only nothing happens, nothing even moves. He glints and finds all his bots looking at him, DUM-E at least with an air of shame.

“JARVIS,” Tony bites out between clenched teeth. He does not have the energy to do everything himself. “Could you please not keep the bots from doing what I tell them to do?”

“My first priority is your well-being, sir,” JARVIS answers stiffly.

“And that means getting this damned metal spike out of my body, yes?” Tony snaps and glares at his bots.

“In a safe manner. I will not watch you bleed out right in front of me.”

If Tony were in less pain, he might acknowledge the trace of fear in JARVIS’ voice, but he does not have many alternatives to dealing with these things himself. There is no way he could go to Medical without the rest of the team finding out and they do not need the reminder that Tony is just a rather squishy human in a tin can. He does not know how Clint does it, who always comes out of fights with scrapes and bruises, unenhanced as he is. But Steve does not doubt his abilities as much as he does Tony’s.

“I won’t –”

Tony is interrupted by the door opening – which should not happen because he is sure that he ordered a complete lockdown. He always does when he comes home injured or when he needs to repair some serious damage done to the armour.

Drained and weary, he is unable to react quickly, does not even manage to really straighten in the chair. When he tries, fire spreads through his abdomen that has him flinch, unsettling his entire balance. It is all he can do not to slide right to the ground. And thus, barely hanging on to consciousness – and the last scraps of his dignity – Tony has to watch Captain America himself hurry into his workshop, his face already drawn into an unhappy frown.  

This is it, he guesses. He does not have the energy for another shouting match about all the things he has done wrong, so he will likely say something unforgiveable just to get it over with or pass out. In Tony’s head, there is no way this will end with him still on the team. Irresponsible as he is, endangering the actually useful members of the team – he can already see where this is going.  

“Cap, to what do I owe the honour?” Even to his own ears, Tony sounds strained, and his lips feel ready to crack when he pulls them into an estimate of a grin. It is a poor attempt at keeping up appearances, but Tony is too much of a Stark not to try.

Steve’s face grows considerably darker. “Don’t waste your energy, Tony. What were you thinking?”

These words should warrant a harsher voice and yet there is something careful to the way Steve moves. He comes closer, the bots getting out of his way without a fuss, and studies the way Tony is curled around the last piece of armour on his body.

“I thought we’d all take a nice post-mission shower and then meet up for dinner,” Tony says conversationally, doing his best to pretend Steve cannot see his shame. He is offering them an out. It would be easy for Steve to nod and leave, to let Tony himself deal with this mess. That is not how this works, however.

Steve looks like he will start yelling any minute now, and the familiarity of it relaxes Tony a bit, despite the pain. Some things will never change, and Steve’s disapproval of him and everything he does is one of them.

Then, Steve seems to think better of it and steps even closer, crouching down right in front of Tony. He reaches out as if to touch Tony’s side but his hand keeps hovering over the dented piece of armour.

“How bad is it?” Steve asks in a clinical tone.

Before Tony can even open his mouth to answer something dismissive, JARVIS speaks up, making him feel like he has been deemed unworthy to be a part of this conversation any longer.

“My preliminary scan shows that no vital organs or large blood vessels were hit, but there was considerable blood loss. Which will get worse when we try to mobilize the piece of the armour.” JARVIS sounds just as disapproving as Steve and in his haziness, Tony can just imagine the old Jarvis coming back from the dead only to appear right next to Steve, watching him with the same pinched expression.

In response, Steve pulls away his hand as if burned, as if his mere proximity might do more damage. Tony might be imagining things, though, since black is creeping in on his vision until he sees everything around him as if through a long dark tunnel.

“What hit him?” Steve asks, still with that worry.

Once again, Tony is too slow to keep the catastrophe from unravelling, and has to listen to JARVIS say, “It was blunt force that pushed parts of the suit inside Sir.” The honorific feels like a terrible mockery, considering that JARVIS is blurting out how irresponsible Tony was. What if he got a teammate hurt because he put himself out of commission and could not be there to help? “It is a stability issue of the seams that has been ignored in favour of more manoeuvrability.”

The glare Steve sends at Tony is enough to make his pulse race from more than the pain. They will have an argument about this later, Tony knows, and it will be ugly. If he is not thrown off the team altogether. Certain weak points have to be accepted if he wants to remain at peak usefulness. He is not sure where the difference is to Clint jumping off buildings every opportunity he gets without confirming someone is close by to catch him. The purely human members of the team have to take some risks at times – and they usually deal with it just fine.

Tony looks at where he knows one of JARVIS’ cameras is located and mouths, “Traitor.” Then he pushes himself away from Steve only to have the chair collide with Butterfingers, who is still right behind him. The unexpected jostling drives a whimper to his lips that he is too slow to swallow. He closes his eyes in shame, wishing this was just a bad dream.

“All right,” Steve says as if he has only just made up his mind about what he will do. “Can we move him to Medical or do we need to get a team here?”

“I’m perfectly fine with –” Tony bites out, his voice coming out much quieter than he wanted. It does not even surprise him anymore when he is ignored.

“I advise not to move Sir too much, although the piece should be removed in a sterile environment,” JARVIS says, no doubt thinking of Tony’s suppressed immune system. He has dealt just fine with that before. He does not need them to hold his hand through something he has done by himself a thousand times.

“Let’s get him a stretcher, then,” Steve decides and gets to his feet, although he keeps hovering over Tony as if he is just waiting for him to fall.

It is too much. The pain, the impending doom of Steve telling him he has outlived his usefulness, people deciding over his head what to do with him – Tony has enough.

“I’m not an invalid, damn it,” he snaps, glaring at Steve with all the energy he has left. “I can speak for myself and I can walk if I have to. I just fought a battle with you.”

Perhaps he should not have reminded them of the fight because Steve’s expression falls at that before settling into another frown.

“While injured,” he replies shortly. “That alone makes me doubt your mental capacity at the moment.”

This is so unfair. If Tony had bowed out of the fight just because of a scratch, he would have gotten a lecture about abandoning his team. Now that he kept on fighting, he is called irresponsible. Tony always knew that Captain America would disapprove of him but this is like dealing with Howard all over again and being unable to ever do anything right.

“Cap,” Tony tries but is cut off harshly.

“Don’t test me right now, Tony. I will not lose one of my team to his stubbornness. It’s bad enough that you didn’t tell anyone you are hurt.” The words do not quite fit the stormy expression. Then again, Steve has that helper syndrome where even losing just Tony would make him feel bad. “Why would you insist on going through this alone?”

The question hangs in the air between them for a minute, leaving Tony stunned with the desperate note clinging to the words. Then, Steve turns around abruptly and brings some distance between them before snapping at the air, “Where are you, Bruce? We need a med team up here immediately.”

Still stunned by the outburst, Tony is glad that Steve’s attention is not on him anymore. Otherwise, he might have just made a rather embarrassing admission like What if you decide to throw me off the team if you’re reminded how easily I’m hurt? or, worse, It’s better to hide than to find out nobody cares.

Tony does not believe that last thing, not really. He might not be a full-fledged member of the team, but they would care and they would help. Some lessons are hard to unlearn, however, and Tony has never been allowed to be vulnerable before.

“Steve,” Tony says, although he is not sure how to continue. He feels the urge to thank Steve. For coming. For not starting to yell immediately.

He does not come that far, however, because Steve whirls around to him and cuts him off. “No, I don’t want to hear any stupid excuses.”

That is more like it. Disappointment wars with relief in Tony’s chest. In the end, the familiar scorn is better than treading into the unknown and hoping for things to change. So, Tony swallows the words rising up in his throats and leans back in the chair. This time, he is prepared for the pain and keeps his face impassive. He is getting tired of this, and since his input is apparently not needed, he might as well close his eyes for a moment and get some rest.

“Tony? Are you –” A few hurried steps and Tony feels Steve right back at his side, sounding worried again. “I mean, is it getting worse?”

Tony is not sure. The pain is bearable when he does not move. His thoughts are very slow, which is not at all what he is used to, but that could just be the exhaustion.

“I’m fine,” he says because what else is there to do? “Everything’s fine.”

He keeps his eyes closed, does not want to see Steve, does not want to face reality at the moment. The darkness is pulling him under and he does not fight it. What for? Help is on the way, JARVIS and Steve will not let him do anything on his own. Might as well pass out and not have to face the fear of other people’s hands all over him.

“Stay with me, Tony,” Steve’s voice sounds from a distance.

That sounds like a bad idea. Staying with Steve means shame and arguments. No, he will stay like this and do his best to miss all the excitement. He might not like things happening to him that he is not fully aware of but it sounds nice to wake up once everything is over and he is alone again. He could –

Pain shoots through him, more acute than before, that makes him snap up his head and blink against the sudden light. He is not sitting in his workshop anymore. Instead, he is lying down, tight straps over his chest and legs, and the ceiling is flying by. Panic rises in him and he does not have any energy left to fight it.

“We’re here, Tony,” Bruce’s voice reaches him, calm and familiar, right before his face appears like a dark blob above Tony.

Only a second later, Steve shows up on the other side. “They’ll take care of you.”

“Don’t –” Tony says, but his mouth is too dry to continue.

Don’t watch, he means. Don’t let them take out my heart. Don’t let them put another battery in me.

“We’ll stay with you,” Steve says and it sounds like a promise, like he understands Tony’s fear, although they have never talked about his time in that cave. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Those two things are not the same, Tony wants to point out, but darkness comes creeping back in from the corners of his vision.

“Hold –” you to that, he wants to say.

Instead, the last thing he feels before unconsciousness claims him is something grabbing his hand and holding on tight.

 ---

When Tony wakes up, he is in his room. At first, he thinks he dreamt up all the excitement, his fantasy spurred into motion by blood loss and exhaustion. Some part of his incorrigible heart keeps wishing to be saved, no matter how much he fights it.

Then he hears the familiar beeping of a heart monitor and feels the pressure of bandages around his abdomen. That alone is a clear indicator he got outside help. If he had done this one his own, DUM-E would have gotten tangled up in the bandages until Tony decided a band aid would have to be enough. And he would have passed out in the workshop. Maybe he would have gotten to the couch. But his bed? Never.

Shame wells up inside him, but he stomps down on it. There is no use in dwelling on something he cannot change anymore. Now, he must soldier on and deal with the consequences.

When Tony opens his eyes fully and looks around, he is greeted by the strangest sight. On the sides of his bed sit Bruce and Steve, both asleep and looking like they would desperately need a bed of their own. Worse, Steve is still in his uniform, which means he really has not left Tony’s side since finding him in the workshop.

That thought does strange things to Tony’s stomach, which he cannot dully blame on his hole in his abdomen. He distantly remembers them promising they would stay with him, but that is just what people tell those who are injured and would rather jump off the rood of the tower than get actual, medical help. They were not meant to actually do that.

Opening his mouth, Tony means to clear his throat, to say something, to send them off to bed. Before he can get a single sound over his lips, however, his eyes fall on his hand. Specifically, his hand that is held by Steve.

Oh. Tony’s mind is blank, wondering what to make of that.

As it is, the lights around him dim a bit more, just enough to catch Tony’s attention. JARVIS, then, telling him that everything is all right – and probably admonishing him to shut up and let things be.

Later, Tony will blame it on exhaustion, but he complies without a second thought. With one last glance at their intertwined hands, Tony closes his eyes.

Maybe he is not in as much trouble as he thought. Or, in any case, a different kind than expected.

[hoboal87]

Elastic Heart Chapter Thirteen

Title : Elastic Heart - Crowley

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, Cordelia Y/L/N

Pairing(s): Sam x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Cordy have started to settle into their new home when an enemy of Sam and Dean knocks on their door.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: cursing, angst, TW: Torture (physical and mental), threats against a child, threats of kidnapping, CROWLEY IS NOT A NICE DUDE

A/N: Series is mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. For the purposes of this fic Sam was born in ‘84 instead of '83.

A/N 2: Please read the warnings! 

A/N 3: This chapter uses dialogue from 8x23 “Sacrifice”

Beta’d by @deanwinchesterswitch​

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Read Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen - Crowley

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” His gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine. He doesn’t wait for me to answer, stepping over the threshold into my home. He looks around for a moment, a smug grin creeping across his face. “Moose and Squirrel thought they could hide you from me, but as always, they underestimate me.”

I’m unable to stop him as he moves further into the house. My eyes dart to the kitchen, hoping that Cordy stays in there until I can get this stranger out of the house. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe the rumors aren’t true.” There’s a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

Rumors? “What do you want?”

“Oh, Y/N, I don’t even know where to start.” My heart stops at his use of my name. He lets out a low, breathy chuckle. “Squirrel’s head on a platter, Moose under my command, serving in his rightful place, and you’re going to help me get what I want.”

“Who are you?” I ask, trying to cover the fear in my voice.

“Name’s Crowley.” He walks into my living room, his voice is calm, but underneath I can sense he’s dangerous. “Been watching you for some time now, Y/N, since before you left that godforsaken town in Texas, lucky for you, I’m a patient man.” He’s been watching me? “It’s fate, darling, that you’re in Lawrence. Surely you know this is the same town in which he was born, where his mother died?” I don’t answer. “Now, the only family he has left is in the same place his family fell apart.”

“Y/N,” Cordy comes out from the kitchen. The man’s eyes widen at the sight of her, a look of smugness washes over his face. “Who is it?”

“Cordy,” I try my best to keep all worry out of my voice. I have to get her out of the house, “how about you go over to Ms. Cynthia’s and play with Ava?” I try to keep my voice steady, not wanting to alarm her.

“This must be her.” His eyes narrow on Cordy. “She’s the spitting image of him; how no one put it together sooner is beyond me.” A sly smile creeps over his face. “Hello sweetie, you can call me Uncle Crowley.”

Her eyes dart between the man and me, and she doesn’t move. I move towards Cordy, and I can feel the man’s eyes on me, watching my every step.

“Cordelia Mary, look at me,” I say, pulling her attention back to me. “Go over and play with Ava, I’ll come over to get you in a little while.”

She hesitates, and I keep a fake smile on my face as she makes her way towards the front door. She stops in front of me. “I don’t want to leave you, Y/N,” Cordy whispers, throwing her arms around my waist, holding on to me tightly.

“Yes, Y/N, let her stay,” he taunts, taking another step closer to us. “I do love to play.”

I gently pry her arms off of me and guide her out the front door. She stands on the porch for a moment, watching as I do everything to mask my fear.

He leans in whispering in my ear, “I could snap her neck like a twig.” Panic fills me as he stares into my eyes. I can feel them watering, and I nod slightly.

“Stay at Ava’s until I come and get you. You don’t have to worry about me.” I close the gap between us, lower myself down to meet her eye-level, and wrap my arms tight around her. “Remember what Sam told you? About the angels?” She nods. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

She takes a step back, and I give her a reassuring smile. I can feel Crowley behind me, watching as Cordy walks to Cynthia’s across the street. As soon as I see the door open and she disappears into the house, I let out a strangled breath. When I turn around, he’s only inches away and takes a step to the side; with a flick of his fingers, the door behind me slams shut. My heart drops, and I turn back around, desperately trying to open it. He chuckles at my attempts, before yanking me away.

“Whatever you want, leave her out of it,” I say with all the courage I can muster. “I don’t know who you think we are-”

“You’re exactly who I think you are, darling,” he says sharply. “I didn’t believe my source at first, thought she was sending me on some wild goose chase, but there is no denying it. That is the child of Sam Winchester.”

“She’s not–” I splutter, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There’s no point in lying, darling.” He sighs, rolling his eyes. “There’s been quite enough of that already,“ he laughs snidely. "Angels weren’t the only ones keeping tabs on you.”

“Who are you? What do you want from us?”

“I hate repeating myself,” he growls. “Crowley, King of Hell.” He snaps his fingers, and I’m forced into a chair, unable to move. “You and that little bastard Winchester, are going to help me get what I want.”

“Fuck you.” I spit out. I squirm against the chair, trying with all my strength to move, but as hard as I try, I can’t fight my way out. Castiel, if you can hear me, I’m in trouble, and I need your help.

“Feisty one, aren’t we?” he quips. “I like a girl with a little fight in her.”

I continue to struggle against the invisible force holding me down. He disappears for a moment, and when he returns, he’s holding a bottle of amber liquid and glass.

“In a moment such as this, one needs a drink,” he declares while filling the glass. “You, my dear, are going to be in for such a treat. Nothing brings me more joy than watching the Winchesters suffer.”

“They won’t let you hurt me. They’ll be here any second, and they’ll stop you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, darling.” He leans forward, a smug smile forming on his lips. “My sources tell me that those morons aren’t aware that you’re in Lawrence. They’re under the impression that you’re still in Weldon.” He brings the glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Tsk tsk tsk. I could move you across the country before they even realize you’re gone. Or maybe,” he takes another drink, “I’ll just leave your body for them to find, that is, whatever’s left.”

“Fuck you.”

“Very well then, perhaps I’ll go to your neighbors and have a chat with little Cordelia,” he smirks, and I can feel the blood drain from my face. “You’ll find I can be very persuasive.”

“Don’t.” My heart is thudding in my chest. “You even go near her and I’ll–”

“You’ll what, darling?” He grins slyly and produces a long silver blade, admiring it as he slices through the air. My eyes widen as I suck in a nervous breath. “Now, are you going to do as you’re told?”

Cas, if you can hear me, I need your help.

I clench my jaw and don’t respond, trying to hold my own against him. He’s out of the chair and in front of me instantly, holding the blade against my throat. I whimper as I feel a trickle of blood flow down my neck.

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Are you going to cooperate?” I nod defeatedly. “Good girl. You’re going to convince those idiot Winchesters to hand something over to me, something that belongs to me. Understood?”

“Why me?” I mumble, hoping that I can stall him until Cas answers my prayers. “We don’t– we’re not hunters, we’re not in that life.”

“That’s what makes this even more delicious,” He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip. “If you were, you’d know how to ward your home, keep things like me out. Moose just left you vulnerable to any sort of attack.” His words sting; I keep telling myself that there isn’t any truth to it. “It’s usually the first thing they teach someone, Devil’s Trap, simple enough for anyone to learn. Would’ve kept me from doing this.” He snaps his fingers, and pain radiates throughout my body. His eyes narrow as I silently struggle. “Interesting.”

He snaps again, and the pain slowly dissipates, before rising again. He repeats this over and over for what feels like hours. I’m a sobbing mess when he finally stops. Please, Cas.

“You know, our boy Sam has been getting his hands very dirty for quite some time now, and you two may be the only things that can keep him in line. You see, darling, you’re what they call leverage.” He finishes the glass and pours himself another drink. “If you’re not enough, little Cordelia may be the exact motivation those piles of flannel need.” His phone rings, pulling his attention away from me; he stares at it for a moment before looking back in my direction. “Do as you’re told, darling.” He taps a button on the phone and lays it down on the arm of his chair. “Moose! I was wondering when you’d finally call.”

“We’re finishing the Trials, Crowley. There’s nothing you can do to stop us.” The sound of Sam’s voice through the small speaker fills me with a temporary sense of relief.

“Are you sure about that? Because I’ve been having quite the lovely chat with someone who may be able to convince you otherwise. Say ‘hello,’ darling.” Crowley walks towards me, holding the phone out until it’s in front of me.

“Whatever you’re trying to pull, it isn’t gonna work.” Crowley’s eyes narrow as he watches me react to Sam’s voice on the phone. “It’s over, you lose.” Crowley arches an eyebrow and smiles at me. He’s enjoying this.

“Cooperate, darling,” Crowley hisses, waiting for me to speak. “Not talking, eh? We can fix that.” He growls, and suddenly a burning sensation spreads from my shoulder to my fingertips, as some invisible force pulls it into an unnatural position. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, doing everything I can not to give him the satisfaction of knowing the pain I’m in. “Oh, I like this one, Moose. She’s tougher than she looks. Let’s see what we can do about that.” Crowley looks at me pointedly for a moment, and his lips curl.

Before I can comprehend what he’s smiling about, the force on my arm increases. Tears fill my eyes, and the taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite the inside of my cheek, desperately trying not to give in to Crowley’s demands.

“I wish you could see the look on her face. She’s trying so hard to be strong. But…” Another pull on my arm, snaps the bone, and I scream, unable to do anything else. “I always get what I want.”

“SAM!” I barely recognize my voice as I shriek out his name.

“Y/N/N?!” His voice is faint through the buzzing in my ears. I let out a sob as the pain radiates through me. “Is that you? Talk to me, baby, let me know you’re okay.”

“It’s her, Sam.” My vision has blurred, but I can still make out the smug smile on Crowley’s face. “Did you really think you could keep Y/N and that little bastard of yours hidden from me?”

“Stay away from them!” Sam’s voice roars through the phone speaker.

“Too late for that one, Moose. I don’t know why I didn’t think of using them sooner. Tommy never stood a chance. Tell me, what was it like staring into Sarah’s face as she took her last breath? Knowing you allowed another child to be raised without their mother? You won’t see Y/N’s, and who knows what’ll happen to little Cordelia.”

“No, no, no,” I whimper. Crowley lets out a low, breathy chuckle as he continues torturing me with his words. Castiel, I need your help.

“I have connections everywhere, boys, you should know that by now. But can you imagine my surprise when Y/N and Cordelia show up at the only place I have one of my plants in a hundred miles? That’s serendipitous.”

“You go anywhere near her, and I swear to God–” Sam threatens, voice full of anger and frustration.

“You’ll what?” Crowley snaps his fingers, and it feels like white-hot pokers are being dragged along my veins. “You think you can stop me from doing this?” I scream out again as his knife slashes across my skin.

“Take your hands off of her!”

“Oh, believe me, Samantha, if my hands were on her, you’d know.”

He snaps again, and I let out a shaky breath as the pain subsides. I know it won’t last long. Crowley’s getting off on torturing me both physically and mentally. I try to prepare myself for whatever he may do or say next. The sudden sound of a dog growling somewhere from behind startles me, and I turn away in disgust as a rancid puff of air wafts across my cheek.

“You know, I’m quite disappointed in you,” sarcasm bleeds from his lips. “Knocking up some small-town girl, then just walking away? That’s not a move I’d expect from you, Samuel. But the pièce de résistance? Walking away without leaving some sort of protection for your whore and the little bastard. You know what’s stopping me from getting Cordelia?” Crowley’s eyes narrow on me, “nothing, except the fact that I want you to listen as I rip Y/N’s last breath from her. Come to think of it, maybe I’ll go to the neighbor’s house and bring Cordelia back here. Let her watch as I slit Y/N’s throat.”

“Y/N/N, don’t listen to him,” Sam’s voice cuts through the air. “Whatever he says, you can’t believe him. Demons lie. We’re– I’m gonna stop him.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Crowley sneers. “Tell me, do you even know where your precious Y/N and Cordelia are?”

“O-of course,” Sam stammers. Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact that I did the one thing I promised Sam I wouldn’t do, I took Cordy and left. Crowley’s baiting him, and he’s falling for it.

“Kansas,” my voice is weak, barely above a whisper, and every logical part of my brain is telling me that Sam can’t hear me, but I try to tell him anyway. “We’re in La-”

I feel a grip around my throat, cutting off my air supply as I try to choke out the words.

“Ah, ah, ah, darling,” Crowley berates me. “Let’s not spoil the surprise, shall we?

“Le- go,” I beg him, “pl- any-”

“What was that? Did you say anything, darling?” Still unable to speak, I nod in response. “That is a poor choice of words.” Crowley sets the phone down, saunters over and pats the air next to my shoulder, “stand down, Juliet.” The growling fades away as he leans in closer and grabs me by the hair, yanking my head back. “I could have you tied down and gagged, begging for death, and while I’d be happy to oblige, it wouldn’t quite scratch the itch.

“Maybe I should have one of my demons possess you,” Crowley eyes the charm hanging around my neck and lowers his voice. “Jolly Green would never suspect such a thing. He’d be so happy to have you back. Then, when the time is just right, I’d have you watch as he dies by your hand. Can you imagine the look on his face, watching the love of his life slice him open? You’d be a captive audience, allowed to watch as he draws his last breath, feel the warmth of his blood as it flows from his wounds, maybe even get a little taste. Squirrel would be devastated. There’s nothing that he wants more than for Moose to get his happy ending. Watching him unravel as he realizes there’s no way to bring back his precious Sammy? Well, that would be simply sublime.” He lets go of me and takes another drink from the glass. “No demon will deal with him, not again. Sam Winchester will be dead, for good this time.”

“This time?” I gasp as the pressure on my throat is released.

“Ah, it seems those flannel-wearing idiots haven’t shared everything with you. Can’t say I blame them, that lumberjack has died so many times, who can keep track?” He lets out a dry laugh, and I close my eyes in a desperate attempt to calm myself. “Surely he told you how he let Lucifer out of his cage in Hell? No? Or how he let Dean rot away in Purgatory for a year?”

The anger in Sam’s voice is almost palpable as it booms through the small phone, and I tilt my head, almost expecting to see him standing next to the chair. He alternates between threatening Crowley and begging me not to listen to the demon. Crowley continues to ramble, and I try not to react to his goading, hoping I can keep him talking until Cas shows up.

“Samantha tried to live a normal life.” Crowley walks over and picks up the phone. “Surely, he told you about the girl he gave up everything for?” I want to scream, tell him to shut up, and I can see the joy spread across his face as he riles me up. “C’mon Sam, tell us all about the girl that made you leave everything you’ve ever known. I’m sure Y/N is just dying to know why you chose another woman over her. Over your daughter.”

“I– I didn’t. Y/N/N, please, you can’t believe him. When all of this is over, I’ll explain everything.”

“I think we’d all love to hear it, Moose. Come now, share with the class,” Crowley intones. “Better yet, explain to Dean just how easy it was for you to walk away. You didn’t even think twice about it, did you? Just left poor Kevin to the wolves, so to speak. Dean was fighting for his life, and you were living in Texas with a girl and a dog.”

Sam’s breaths come hard and fast as he sputters out denials. Dean’s muffled ‘motherfucker’ filters through the discord.

“He was so close, darling, only a few hours away, and yet, he didn’t even bother to contact you, did he? No, Samantha found some other little whore to fill the emptiness. Gave up looking for his brother, for her. Gave up a life of hunting for her.”

I keep repeating Sam’s words in my head, demons lie.

“He didn’t do that for you, did he? No, he ran away.”

“He didn’t– it wasn’t his fault,” I argue feebly, not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself. “He loves me; he wouldn’t have left if he’d known-”

“Are you sure about that, darling?”

“Y/N, don’t listen to him,” the low timbre of Dean’s voice comes through the phone.

“We’d been keeping track of Y/N for years,” Sam and Dean are silent. “Oh, boys, did you think that Feathers and all those other idiot angels were the only ones who knew about Y/N? That’s just naive. You know Lilith was planning on using her next if Ruby couldn’t get the job done?”

“Fuck you,” Sam growls. “Leave her alone, Crowley.”

“Didn’t tell her about Ruby, either? You just love keeping your secrets, don’t you?” Crowley’s lips curl as Sam goes silent. “Got you nice and addicted to-”

“Shut it, Crowley!”

“You had so many chances to track her down. Admit it; you hadn’t thought about Y/N in years. If you had, it wouldn’t have taken ten years and a Shtriga to get you back to that one-horse town. We thought Jessica’s death would’ve sent you running back, but no, your unhealthy, co-dependent relationship with your brother and need for revenge consumed every part of you, didn’t it, Sam? Every choice you made after that took you further away from Y/N.”

I remember Sam saying he dreamt of Jessica’s death. Did he know that this was gonna happen? That Crowley would come after us? I knew he wasn’t telling me something, but I never realized just how dangerous the monsters that Sam fought could be, and apparently, he decided not to warn me. Crowley is making a point that I don’t want to believe: Sam chose to stay away for all those years.

“Alright, Boris, enough with the monologuing.” Dean’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Y/N, listen to me; whatever Crowley tells you, you can’t believe a word he says.”

“Let her hear it from the source then,” Crowley says with a coy grin. “Tell us, Sam. Tell Y/N why you never came back, why you chose girl after girl instead of her?”

“It wasn’t like that, Y/N.” Sam’s voice is filled with desperation. Crowley’s baiting him, and he’s falling for it. “I always wanted to come back to you-to our family.”

“Your family,” Crowley mocks Sam. “Rumors about a Winchester child went around for years.“ Crowley directs his next comments to me. "But no one could find her; someone went to great lengths to cover up her existence. Had a spell of protection cast over her shortly after she was born. Lucky for me, it was only a matter of time before you crossed paths with that lumbering idiot again.”

“Fuck you,” I mutter.

“Eloquent, aren’t we?” Crowley chuckles. “You know, I’m normally much more patient, but when I heard about the trials, I just knew it was time to act. All I had to do was give Samantha a nudge here, a well-placed article there, et voila, it was like taking candy from a baby,” Crowley refills his glass. “One of my lieutenants was already in place when those two heaping piles of flannel crossed the town’s lines. You still had so much resentment for your parents you didn’t even notice the change in your father’s behavior, did you, Y/N? Would you like to know the real cause of that accident?”

Crowley sneers as I cut him off with a scream. “No!”

“Oh, yes, darling. Sometimes you just have to pull the strings of fate in the right direction,” he snaps his fingers once again, sending lightning bolts of pain coursing through me. “Now let’s talk about the little one, should I bring her back and let her watch you die? Or should I leave your body for her to find?”

Panic replaces the pain coursing through me, and each breath becomes harder to take. “Maybe, I’ll just turn her into one of my loyal followers.”

No, no, no. I can see the pleasure Crowley takes in my fear. Sam’s voice rings out tense and full of condemnation as he continues to yell at Crowley.

“I’d have little Cordelia calling me ‘father’ in no time, it would be the ultimate power.”

My body vibrates with rage as he releases his hold. “You stay away from her. I’ll kill you if you lay a finger on her.”

“There it is.” There’s a smugness in his voice. “I see now exactly why Sam chose you. I didn’t at first, but now, with your mama bear instincts coming out? You are the perfect vessel to carry on the Winchester bloodline. Crowley turns his focus back to the phone in his hand. “What’s it gonna be, boys? You’ve got two minutes to make your decision. Finish the Trials, or save your precious family.”

The tightness around my throat returns, slowly cutting off my air supply. Please, Cas, help.

“We’ll deal. You stop, we’ll stop.” I can practically hear Sam pacing the floor of whatever room he is in. “Now, let her go.”

“First, we must discuss terms, gigantor. I want the Demon Tablet, the whole Demon Tablet. Then we’ll talk about what to do with the girls.” After several moments of strained silence, Crowley grows impatient. “Tick-tock, boys. Little Cordelia could walk in on us at any moment. I’d hate for her to have to watch her mother die. It’s an awful thing, isn’t it, Moose? Watching someone you love die right before your eyes.”

“Fine, then we get the angel tablet,” Dean’s voice fills the air.

“On what grounds?” Crowley argues.

“On the grounds that you’re a douchebag, and no one should have that much power.”

“Fine. Now about Y/N and the little one,” Crowley’s lips curl as I feel my throat closing.

“They’ve got nothing to do with any of this, we’ve agreed to your terms, now let Y/N go.”

“You’re right, Y/N doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use her in every depraved way I can think of, have a bit of fun with her.”

“Fuck you,” Sam snarls, “if you even think about laying a finger on her, I’ll kill you and every fucking demon that gets in my way.”

“Such a flirt, Samantha. Your dear Y/N is running out of time, and you want foreplay? I’m touched. Once she’s gone, little Cordelia will be mine for the taking. Azazel had the right idea; I could make myself a child-army. I wonder, Sam, did she inherit your predilection for demon blood?”

“Listen here, you son of a bitch.”

“No, you listen. You will stop the Trials and give me the tablet, or Moose’s whore is gonna bite the dust. What’s more important? Completing the trials or letting Y/N die? Will you let her become another innocent casualty in your quest to save the world? It’s up to you, Sasquatch, what’s it going to be?”

“Let me talk to her, Crowley,” Sam’s voice cuts through the haziness of my brain.

“You don’t trust me, Moose? I’m hurt.”

“Prove to me that she’s still alive.” Crowley rolls his eyes, and the grip on my neck loosens. I gasp for air as he brings the phone closer to me. “Y/N/N, talk to me, please, baby.” I choke back a sob. “C’mon Y/N/N, let me know you’re okay.”

“S-m,” I plead, “don- g- Cordy.“ Crowley lets out a deep chuckle.

“Y/N/N, you’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let him hurt you or Corie.”

“One minute.”

Tears press against my eyes, and I try to blink them away, not wanting Crowley to see my weakness.

“Maybe I’ll kill the little one first.” He rubs his thumb against my cheek, brushing away the traitorous tear that slipped free. “Let Y/N watch as I slit her throat.” Crowley’s voice is apathetic as it continues to torture me with his words. “Or maybe I’ll just take her with me to Hell; every child needs a father. Start her reprogramming immediately. She’s young enough. I’m sure within a few months, I could make her do anything I want. Now, shall I have her kill you or Squirrel first?”

“Fuck you,” Sam growls.

“Ah, the Winchester Wit, do you think Cordelia has that same mastery of language you have? Keep it up, and you’ll never know. Thirty seconds, Moose.“

Please, Castiel. I continue to pray silently as my vision begins to blur.

"I’ll stop the trials,” Sam mumbles, his voice so low I can barely understand him.

“What was that? Louder, Sam, so that Y/N can hear you.”

“I’ll stop,” Sam huffs, “now let her go.”

“I just need two little words from you,“ Crowley’s lips curve into a sneer, and he narrows his eyes back on the phone. "I surrender.”

Crowley’s fingers curl around nothing, and the pressure around my neck becomes unbearable. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my lungs are burning as my vision tunnels, darkness consuming it, but my only thought is for Cordy. Sam’s voice comes low through the phone, but I can’t make out his words.

Before the darkness completely takes over, the tightness around my neck loosens, and I take in long deep breaths, coughing as I exhale. Crowley is still wearing a smug smile; Sam must’ve told him what he wanted to hear.

"Pleasure doing business with you, boys.” Crowley ends the call and pockets the phone before turning his attention back on me. “This wasn’t personal; you mustn’t believe it was.” He sounds almost remorseful as he brings his attention back to me. “You and the little one were just a means to an end.” With a snap of his fingers, I find myself free from the unseen restraints. “As long as Moose and Squirrel keep up their end, my demons will stay away from you and Cordelia.” Crowley moves to place a hand on my shoulder.

“Touch me, and I’ll kill you,” I growl at him, adrenaline still pumping through me.

“Careful, darling. It may not have been about you, but I meant what I said. I’ll do things to you that will make you wish for death. The boys may have made a deal, but you didn’t. You could be in worse shape.”

“Why?” I mutter. “Why us?”

“I told you, darling, nothing motivates a Winchester better than threatening someone they love. Sam Winchester’s daughter and his former flame? You are the ultimate bargaining chips…”

I tune him out as my mind begins to race. This—this is the very reason why John wanted Sam to stay away. The reason why we could never be together. Dean said it himself, Crowley was using Cordy and me to get to him and Sam. I should’ve never told him the truth. I should’ve let him believe whatever John said to him that night.

“…next generation of Winchesters. Take care, darling.” he disappears before my eyes, leaving me alone in the empty house. My legs wobble as I stand, and I hold on to the furniture to keep myself upright. I make it to the front walkway before my legs give out, and I collapse against the wall, uncontrollable sobs leaving me.

I cradle my arm against my chest, and pain radiates from my shoulder with the slightest movement. I know I need a doctor. I foolishly pray to Cas again. Why would Sam tell me to pray to him if it wasn’t going to work? I should’ve known better than to trust that some angel was going to appear to save me.

Every instinct is telling me to go straight to Cordy and wrap her in my arms. I need to know that she is safe, that Crowley didn’t go after her anyway. Crowley said he had connections everywhere. Could Cynthia or Tom be possessed? Did sending her away do more harm than good? My mind is swimming with worry for her safety.

My legs shake as I stand back up, and I compose myself as best I can. I wrap my arm as carefully in a large ace bandage, wanting to shield Cordy from the aftermath as much as I can. I’m walking towards the door when I hear a light rapping, and panic starts filling my body again. Crowley had just proven to me that anyone or anything could walk into our house, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice fills the air. “It’s Cynthia; Cordy asked me to come check on you.”

I open the door just enough to peer out to confirm it is Cynthia standing there. I pull Sam’s necklace over my head and pass it through the opening, “can you put this on, please?” I say through the small space, Cynthia looks at me curiously but complies. I wait a moment to see if there is any kind of reaction before letting out a relieved sigh and opening the door wider.

“Y/N!” Cynthia exclaims as she takes in my disheveled appearance. “What happened?”

The night of the werewolf attack replays in my head, and how much it pained me to lie about what happened then, how I have to lie again.

“Me and my two left feet,” I lie and let out a weak laugh. “Tried to break my fall, and landed bad,” I shake my head and try to keep my voice as steady as I can.

“Hon,” she takes another step forward, gently grabbing my arm. An involuntary hiss leaves me, and tears fill my eyes. Her eyes land on the dried blood, where Crowley lacerated my shoulder. “A fall wouldn’t cause that.” A choked sob leaves me; I don’t know how to lie my way out of this. “I think you need to let me take you to the hospital.”

“I c-can’t ask you to do t-that, Cynthia.” I shake my head. I hate being this helpless. “Cordy, I need to see Cordy.”

“Cordy’s fine, Y/N,” she walks me over to the couch. “She and Ava are watching a movie.” She looks me over again; concern etched on her face. “Whatever happened, Y/N, you can tell me,” Cynthia softens her voice. “If someone attacked you–”

“No one attacked me,” I lie again, knowing I can’t tell her the truth. Cynthia frowns, doubtful of what I’m telling her. I pick something as close to the truth as I can. “When I was a teenager, I survived an animal attack,” I sigh.

“Oh, hon, I’m sorry.” Cynthia reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze.

“I’m mostly okay, but it caused me to start having panic attacks. Most of the time, I can calm myself down before they get really bad,” I gage her reaction. “But, my usual methods weren’t working, and I didn’t want Cordy to see me like that, that’s why I sent her over,” she nods as if she understands. “I was trying to get upstairs so that I could take my medication, and that’s when I fell.”

“That doesn’t explain the cuts on your shoulder and neck, Y/N,” she gently pries.

“It’s nothing, really,” I mumble, shaking my head. Cynthia’s forehead wrinkles, and her eyebrows furrow, but she doesn’t question me further. I lean my head back, and when I close my eyes, Cordy’s worried face is the only thing I can see. My heart begins to race, and each breath becomes harder to take. “Cordy!”

“She’s at my house, Y/N,” Cynthia attempts to calm me, but I jerk away when she reaches out. “Look at me, Y/N,” she demands softly, “where’s your medicine? Upstairs?”

I nod, mumbling “bathroom, sertraline,” in between ragged breaths. Cynthia returns with the bottle and a glass of water before I even realize that she’d left. She hands me two pills along with the glass, making sure that my trembling hand has a firm grip on it before sitting down. Once I swallow the medicine, Cynthia takes the glass from me and sets it on the coffee table. She squeezes my hand reassuringly and quietly sits next to me until my breathing begins to even out, and tensed muscles start to relax.

“Let me take you to the hospital, Y/N, I insist.”

By the time Cynthia and I are back from the hospital, it’s almost midnight. My arm is wrapped in a cast and perched in a sling. Cynthia walks us into my living room, setting a white bag with pain medicine on the coffee table. She props pillows behind me as I take a seat before her phone rings. She steps away, and I gather she’s talking to her husband, saying she doesn’t know when she’ll be home and that Cordy would be staying over.

“I can go get her,” I stand up from the couch as Cynthia walks back towards me, putting her phone away. “I don’t want to be a bother to you any more than I already have tonight.”

“Y/N, please,” Cynthia gently reaches for my good arm. “You need rest, and Cordy’s sleeping already. Let her stay over; it’s only going to worry her more if you come and get her in the middle of the night.”

“Are you sure? I know we haven’t gotten the chance to really know each other yet–”

“Y/N,” Cynthia lifts her hand to stop me. “You’re a single mom, and new around here, and you’ve already had a rough night. I’ve been there, and believe me, I know how hard it can be. Can I call anyone for you?” She asks as she retrieves a pill from the orange bottle, and I shake my head. “No family?” I shake my head again as she hands me one, and I swallow it dry. “No one at all?”

“It’s just the two of us,” my eyes drift over to a silver picture frame. “I’m an only child. My parents died in a car accident a few months ago. Cordy was in the car with them when it happened.”

“My God,” Cynthia gasps. “Y/N, I– I can’t imagine.”

“Thank you, we’re still adjusting, my parents–” I debate whether telling her the whole story. Maybe another time. “They were my whole support system.”

“What about Cordy’s dad? Is he around?”

“I don’t want to talk about her dad,” I snap back at her unintentionally.

“I’m sorry,” Cynthia’s face pinks up with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Guilt rises in me, it’s an innocent enough question, and I know she doesn’t mean to cause the reaction in me that it does. “No, please don’t apologize, you didn’t know. Cordy’s dad and me, it’s–”

“Complicated?”

“To put it mildly,” I let out a small chuckle, and we both relax. “He wants to be a part of our lives, but his job takes him all over the country, and Cordy needs stability in her life, not a dad who comes and goes.”

She lets out a sigh. “Like I said, Y/N, I’ve been there. If you ever want to talk about it, please don’t hesitate.”

Cynthia stays with me for another hour before going home and promising to send Cordy back first thing in the morning. I’m making my way up to my bedroom when I hear a rustling. My whole body tenses, knowing that just like before, I have no way of stopping another monster or demon from walking into my house. I turn around and see Cas standing in the front walkway, and for a moment, I relax.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have come sooner, Y/N,” Cas’ face remains unreadable as the two times I’d seen him before. As I close the distance between us, my relief is instantly replaced with rage. “But, I was otherwise engaged–” I cut him off with a slap to the face.

“You were ‘otherwise engaged’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I shout as I ball up my fist and pound it against Cas’ chest. “Sam said you would come if I prayed to you! Why didn’t you come? Didn’t you hear it?”

“Yes,” His face and voice stay emotionless. “The situation seemed to be under control.”

“Under control?” My face hardens, and I clench my jaw. It takes all of my willpower not to hit him again. “You call me being attacked in my own home, mine and my daughter lives being threatened ‘under control’? He tortured me just to get to Sam.”

“We had no reason to believe that Crowley was going to come after you. We were told by higher authorities that the demons weren’t aware of you or Cordelia. Clearly, they were incorrect.”

“Clearly,” I scoff and take a few steps back.

“I understand you’re upset, Y/N,” Cas responds coldly, speaking only in statements of fact. “Sam and Dean will have Crowley in their grasp soon enough; they won’t let him harm you or Cordelia. You must understand, Y/N, this is for the greater good.”

“The greater good is not my concern, Cas. The only thing I care about is my daughter. Do you know what he said to me? What he told me he would do to me? To Cordy?”

“I am sorry, Y/N. The angels assured us you were never in any real danger. If you were, I would have interceded sooner.”

“No real danger?” I gesture to my injured arm, “You call this no danger?”

“I can fix that,” he says and reaches out to touch my forehead.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” I slap his hand away. “I can’t believe I ever thought that I could have a normal life with Sam,” I say more to myself than Cas. “He says he wants to protect us, but how is he gonna do that?” I’m rambling, and Cas stands to the side watching.

“Crowley was only using you to get to Sam and Dean,” Cas says as if it should give me some sort of comfort.

“You don’t think I know that, Cas?” I snap back. “He told me. I will not allow my daughter to be used as a way to keep Sam and Dean under control. We will not be pawns in whatever game they are playing at. We’re done. I’m done. Two months ago, Sam scared me enough to think he would hurt me intentionally, and now I find out that they are letting people die, just so what? What is so important that they would let that happen? Tell me, Cas,” I demand.

“Sam,” Cas hesitates. “Sam is completing a series of tests, and when they’re completed, it will seal up the gates of Hell. Crowley doesn’t want that; he needs Earth to fuel his deals and keep his demons satisfied. Ever since he found out about the Trials, Crowley has been doing everything he can to stop Sam from finishing them. I don’t know how he found out about you or Cordelia.“

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble. “He knows, and I’m done with all of you, angels, demons, fucking werewolves, and soul-eaters. If fate was going to bring Sam and me back together, just for this to happen, then fuck fate.”

“Y/N, if I’d have thought that you were in danger, I would’ve been here with you tonight and not allowed Crowley to step through the door.” There’s a sincerity in his voice that I had yet to hear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better.”

“You didn’t protect me at all, Cas.” I throw his words back at him. “None of you did. If I would’ve known something like this would happen, I would’ve lied to Sam.” I let my emotions drive my next words. “I’m done with all of it. All of you. Just leave.”

“I am putting up warding around your house. Neither Crowley nor any other demon will not be able to step inside. I am sorry, Y/N, it was never our intention for any harm to come to you.”

“Sure,” I huff, trying to fight back my tears. “I’m supposed to believe you now? After what happened tonight?”

“I give you my word, Y/N. You and Cordelia will be under my protection from now on.”

“Somehow, I don’t find any comfort in that, Cas,” I grumble. “Please, get out of my house.”

“Y/N,” Cas softens his voice; it’s almost soothing. “I will never ignore another prayer from you or Cordelia.”

“I can’t–” I choke out. “Please, go.”

“You are safe now, Y/N. Both of you are safe.” Cas hesitantly nods and reaches out, gently squeezing my shoulder before vanishing with a rush of air.

Next Chapter

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[kidofthekat]

The art club and a certain reporter save the day.

               Contrary to popular belief, Marinette, was not, in fact, constantly positive. Sometimes it all got a bit too much and this was one of those days. Her class had grown used to her ‘off days’, having learnt a long time ago not to talk to her during them and just give her some space, which ways easy as these days were few and far between. Or at least they used to be.

               The class were absolutely baffled when Marinette came in for the second time that week, and fifth that month, with her body language screaming ‘leave me alone’ which in itself was unusual as she would normally emanate ‘don’t speak to me’ vibes not those of a frightened animal.

               So when their class president, hunched over and slightly shaking, sat, not in her seat, but right at the back, her eyes glancing around with the air of a paranoid creature, they were more than a little worried. Her behaviour reflected that of a girl on the run, they just had no idea who she was running from.

               “Um, M,” Alya ventured, attempting the hide her hurt from Marinette choosing not to sit together. “Why are you sitting way back there?”

               Jumping slightly when she realised she was being addressed, she avoided eye contact but still answered her friend’s question, “Lila thought it would be good if we switched seats for a bit.” Marinette gave a small and feeble smile before turning her attention to the door, and eyeing it with fierce hope, that faded quickly as Lila sauntered in.

               “Oh Marinette, I’m so glad you agreed to my little idea,” her sickly sweet voice holding an unidentifiable edge, “I hope you don’t mind Alya.”

               Alya wanted to say she did, she wanted to sit next her best friend, she really did, but she only had to glance behind her to see Marinette furiously shaking her head, her eyes pleading with her, for her to agree, determined to get the story later.

               She didn’t. She had posted various friends at each exit for the school, but she still missed the girl at both lunch and after class. Marinette, who had somehow managed to get in and out of school through a route no-one knew, was nowhere to be seen.

               Wondering aimlessly around the school, Alya drooped slightly.

Why had Marinette gone as far as to switch seats with her mortal enemy just to avoid me? Am I the reason she is so terrified?

She slumped against the wall, her head resting on the cool brick. Everything had gone wrong so quickly, and only now was she realising that something was off. More than off. She scrunched her eyes tight, attempting to fight the burning tears, eventually succumbing, and letting them fall, praying to whatever God was listening that Hawkmoth was busy.

Having just been let out, the art club chatted loudly on their way out of the school building, almost missing the saddened reporter.

“Yo, Als, are you okay?” Alya rubbed at her eyes, only succeeding in making them redder, and let out a resigned affirmation.

“Are you sure?” Rose lowered herself to the brunette’s level and gave her a tight hug, refusing to let go.

“I’m just worried about Marinette, you know?” Nathaniel and Marc pulled her to her feat, and Alix led the bewildered girl back to the art room.

“Sit here.” Rose pointed to a stool, and in silence the other’s pulled out stool’s in front of hers so that all four were facing her.

She shivered, remembering Marinette’s cult-like description of the art club, but decided against running. They stayed silent until Alya had taken a seat.

“Marinette missed art club today.” Alix stated observing Alya for a reaction, “She never does that, not even on ‘off days’.”

“Oh.”

“Something is wrong.” Rose narrowed her eyes.

“She is scared.” Nathaniel added.

“Of everything.” Marc’s tone was ominous to say the least.

“We are worried too.” Alix finished.

Ignoring their icy gazes and terrifying synchronisation, Alya nodded in agreement, “What do you think happened.”

Once more Alya found herself deliberately writing off the art-club’s weird actions as they simultaneously lost their creepiness and became their normal selves, not cult members.

They all got up and sat around one of the tables, Alix unrolled a large sheet of paper and gave each of them a marker, writing ‘what happened to Marinette?’ in a big circle and a line off it.

“It has something to do with Lila,” everyone agreed, though Alya was a little begrudging to, as she scribbled ‘Lila’ at the end of her line, “Discuss”.

“She openly hated Lila at first, but then she just stopped,” Nathaniel offered, mainly for Marc’s benefit as he was in a different class than him.

“I thought it was just jealousy and her stopping so suddenly strengthened that for me.” Alya admitted.

Rose nodded, “That does follow her previous actions, it’s logical to think so.”

“Thanks Rose, I mean, she and Kagami are pretty hood friends now and I know the other day Lila came out of the bakery.”

“Really?” Alix added a couple things to the ever increasing spider diagram and looked around for more suggestions.

“Um guys, what if we ask her?” Marc backed down slightly from their collective gaze, but quickly cleared his throat and prepared to say more, “I mean, we are cousins, she might talk to me cause of the whole family thing.”

Relived by their smiling faces and agreement, Marc quickly phoned his cousin, putting it on loudspeaker when asked but adding he will turn it off if she says something private.

“Marc?”

“Hey Marinette, uh, you weren’t in art club today, are you okay?”

“Heh, I’m, I’m fine.”

“So, uh, Marc, what’s up with you?”

“The usual.”

“Oh, so doing something with Nathaniel.”

Marc and Nathaniel blushed as Marinette giggled.

“Why are you calling me Marc? You normally just text.”

Sighing, Marc stood up and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Marinette, please tell me the truth, are you okay?” The silence before she chose to reply lasted too long for either of them.

“No, Marc I’m not. Everything is slipping through my fingers, all of it, both lives, it’s all going to hell and I can’t stop it!”

Marc quickly turned his phone off of speaker. Marinette had accidently revealed her second identity when he had asked to use her as Ladybug’s dual identity for his comic and he wasn’t about to let anyone else know. He gave Marinette a few soothing words and promised to be at the bakery in a couple minutes before hanging up and leaving his confused friends behind.

“Both lives?” Alya questioned, still dazed by Marc’s rushed departure.

Alix shook her head in an attempt to clear it, “I have no idea, but evidently Marc knows something, and we aren’t getting anywhere with this now, let’s meet back up here tomorrow lunch.”

They all agreed, leaving in various states of deep thought and bewilderment.

*

Alya stumbled into the classroom seconds before the bell, surprised to see Marinette still at the back. Actually, she was surprised to see her at all. Once again, Marinette had managed to get into the building unnoticed by her, or any of the art club if the looks on their faces as they too reached the classroom late were of any indication.

Unable to question each other or Marinette due to Mme Bustier arriving, they all took their seats, Alya slightly cringing at the sight of Lila in the seat next to hers.

When class finally finished, Alya tailed her best friend through the halls to the locker room, counting herself lucky that she had managed to hide each time Marinette looked behind her.

“Marinette.” Alya hid behind one of the lockers, instantly recognising Lila’s voice.

“Where have you been,” Lila stared Marinette down as she hunched against her locker.

Alya had never heard Marinette so scared as when she answered, “Please Lila, I just want to get my stuff.”

Alya heard a slap. Followed by a punching sound, though there was no scream of shout or cry, just more hitting. She pulled out her phone and rounded the corner.

Recoding the scene in front of her, Alya was close to tears and ready to intervene.

“Please Lila, please.” Marinette begged.

“I’ll stop if you hit me back.”

“I, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Alya stopped in her tracks shocked, Lila simply sneered, “You? Hurt me?” She laughed tauntingly and kneed the designer in her side, “You’re weak, just like the sheeple you call friends.”

They both saw the moment Marinette snapped, her eye’s narrowing and Alya would always swear that her irises became impossibly bluer. She pulled back her fist and punched Lila dead in the nose. Sweeping her legs around while Lila recovered from her surprise, effectively knocking her down.

From her place on the ground Lila held her bleeding nose, and with a nasally voice, threatened to go to the teacher as she now had evidence. Alya saw one shudder travel through her friend and stepped in, unable to take it anymore.

“I filmed it all, I have proof what Marinette did was in self-defence. You hold nothing over her.” Lila scowled and picked herself off the floor. Growling in Marinette’s direction, she stormed off, not before giving the pair one last dirty look.

Marinette glanced at her best friend and collapsed onto her knees in tears.

“Marinette! Why are you crying?”

“She’ll go after you now, you have to apologise to her, please Alya, please!” Marinette begged, clutching at the bottom of Alya’s shirt and sobbing loudly.

Prying Marinette’s hands off her shirt, Alya knelt beside her and pulled her into a hug, whispering assertions to calm the girl down.

“I’m not scared of that liar, Marinette, we can defeat her together.”

Masterpost.

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 22: Futuristic

In a world where cybernetic enhancements have reached the point of genetic inheritance and only those without them are seen as ‘pure,’ Logan is a mechanic attempting to hide his cybernetic status. He somehow catches the eye of Prince Roman, a human who has an interesting view of the Enhanced.

Logan POV, Logince

TW: Racism against cyborgs, brief mentions of oppression and public beatings/killings

Day 21 | Masterlist | Day 23

Logan sighed as he attempted to weld the two pieces of metal together. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but Logan wanted to get this done as soon as possible. The client had promised to pay him extremely well if he had it done in under 24 hours. And if there were two things that Logan would admit to being, it would be determined and dirt poor.

“Ah!” Logan hissed as his right hand was burned through the glove. He winced, fully removing his right glove before moving to the back room, away from any potential prying eyes. He used his teeth to remove his gloves, not wanting to get anything on his burn. His navy blue metal hand gleamed softly in the light, and Logan resisted the urge to scowl at it. He grabbed some burn cream and bandages from a nearby table and started to wrap his right hand up. The sharp contrast between his hands drew in Logan’s attention. Right and Left. Weak and Strong. Flesh and Metal. Pure and Enhanced.

Logan scowled. A little over 300 years ago, people first began obtaining cybernetic enhancements to make up for missing limbs. Soon, there were entire generations that used cybernetic enhancements to create ‘perfect’ children. Around 80 years later, science had evolved to where cybernetic enhancements could be applied down to the cellular levels. Any inhuman enhancements could now be chosen before birth, and could even be genetically inherited. After 200 years of cybernetic enhancements, the ‘Enhanced’ took up over 40% of the population. That’s when people began to discriminate against the Enhanced, saying that their enhancements made them ‘less than human.’ It didn’t help that by that point, 90% of the Enhanced were born with their enhancements. It was soon seen as wrong for Enhanced to hold positions of power, or have any children. The people without cybernetic enhancements were seen as ‘the Pure.’

Logan sighed. While there weren’t any legal ramifications to being an Enhanced, there was still major discrimination against them. If anyone saw his external enhancement, he’d be fired within the week. Most people had obvious external enhancements, such as metal eyes and limbs. Very few were born with internal enhancements, such as multiple sex organs or a cybernetic immune system. Logan had a few internal enhancements, but his only external enhancement was his left hand, which he tended to cover up with his gloves.

Logan sighed as he finished wrapping up his human hand. He quickly put back on the gloves before heading back to the front of the repair shop. He was surprised to see someone there, staring at the metal pieces he had been working on. Logan cleared his throat. “Excuse me, can I help you?”

The person jumped, turning to face Logan. Most of their face was obscured by their hood, but Logan could vaguely make out their tan skin and reddish-brown hair. “Hello! I’m looking for Logan Croft; is he here today?”

Logan adjusted his glasses while staring down at the stranger. Not for the first time in his life, Logan was thankful for the glasses. Most Enhanced had perfect hearing and eyesight, so he was usually assumed to be one of the Pure. “My name is Logan Croft; what do you need today?”

The stranger looked through the window towards the street, where the entire street was empty. He then turned back and pulled down his hood. Logan felt his heart stop. The stranger was extremely attractive, with big green eyes and plump pink lips. The stranger smiled. “Greetings, my name is Roman. I was told that you are the best mechanic in the kingdom.”

Logan felt a small amount of recognition at the name, but he couldn’t remember where he had heard it. He then blushed at the compliment. “Nonsense, I’m sure there are plenty of mechanics in the area that surpass me in terms of skill.” Besides, even if Roman was being truthful, people didn’t hire Logan that often. Especially since he didn’t discriminate against the Enhanced.

Roman shook his head. “Even if they are skillful, it is rumored that there is no problem that you cannot find the solution to. Even when you are physically incapable of fixing it, you can easily discover and explain what the issue is and how to fix it. That is deeply admirable.” He turned towards the metal he had been observing previously. “What is this supposed to be? I’m afraid I’m not well-versed with machines, and it’s been bugging me since I got here.”

Logan quickly answered, grateful to no longer be under Roman’s praise. “It’s a compact engine for a replacement eye. My client suffered from minor head trauma, and one of the wires snapped. Since the engine is so small, I had to completely take it apart before I could repair the wire. I am currently piecing it back together. With any luck, the engine should be fully repaired before noon.”

Roman turned to stare at Logan. “You have enhanced clients?”

Logan immediately became defensive. “Do you have an issue with that?”

Roman shook his head. “No! It’s just not often that I get to meet mechanics that work on Enhanced. It’s a dying field, sadly.” He sighed. “The world’s prejudice against Enhanced is pathetic, really. It’s not like the Pure are any better biologically. Actually, most Enhanced people are better than the Pure, both biologically and as people in general.”

Logan raised his eyebrows in shock. “That’s a very bold claim.”

Roman scowled. “And what’s wrong with that?”

Logan shrugged, moving to collect the metal pieces around him. “I didn’t say there was anything incorrect with your claim. You’re quite correct, actually. But I’m one of the few people in this area that actually believes that. And the Pure tend to get violent when opposed.”

Roman gasped. “I didn’t realize that things were that bad.”

Logan nodded, not turning to look at him. “If an Enhanced has any visible enhancements, it’s nearly impossible to walk down the street without getting harassed. And if one is getting beaten or even killed, people have learned that it’s best to turn a blind eye. Even if you’re also Pure, if you try and defend the Enhanced you’ll find yourself beaten within an inch of your life. And the royals don’t bat an eye at the loss of a few hundred Enhanced.” He held up the motor he was working on, nearly complete. “That’s why I do this. Even if I can’t stop the Enhanced from getting harmed, at least I can help them back up if they survive.”

Roman stayed silent for a long moment. Logan turned to look at him, and nearly flinched at the cold expression on Roman’s face. Logan was slightly shocked at the fact that Roman knew nothing about the violence against the enhanced. How sheltered would a child have to be to not even know about the people that are beaten out on the street?

Roman suddenly smiled. "Thank you for telling me that. It is quite apparent that I have much to learn." He then pulled an envelope out of his jacket. "The Enhanced are actually what I wished to discuss with you. My dear friend's leg was injured a few days ago. I was wondering if you could examine these photos and see if it is repairable. He's severely wounded in other areas from the attack, so he is currently on bed rest. I will pay any price, I just wish for him to walk again."

Logan took the envelope and grimaced when he opened it. It was filled with photos of the patient's leg. The leg was violet in color, with a giant gash running from the Achilles heel to the knee. Several wires were sticking out, and Logan noticed some serious dents around the ankle. "I'm afraid these photos do not provide enough detail. I will have to view the patient in person. If you could arrive tomorrow at sunrise, I will have everything ready for a thorough examination. I will not ask for any money until I have determined the extent of the damage. Does this sound acceptable?"

Roman nodded. "That sounds perfect! I will be here tomorrow to escort you to him." He bowed his head slightly. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Logan."

Logan smiled, bowing his head in return. "The pleasure was mine, Roman."

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

Logan sighed as he popped the eye into its socket. "Janus, you need to stop antagonizing people."

Janus snorted as he moved his eye around. "Honestly, you make such a big deal out of things."

Logan frowned "One day you'll go out there and they won't let you come back alive. Being rich won't protect you forever."

Janus rolled his eyes. The mechanical eye glowed a little as he spoke. "Right, and pretending to be Pure will definitely protect you forever. Especially when you do nothing to hide your sympathy towards fellow Enhanced."

Logan winced. Janus had an internal enhancement that allowed him to taste lies and see when someone was hiding something. Janus had known since the first day he came in here that Logan was Enhanced. "Even so, at least I keep my head down. You need to be more careful."

Janus suddenly froze. Logan was about to ask what was wrong when Janus whispered. "You're lying."

Logan blinked. "What?"

Janus frowned. "Every time we talk, you say that you keep your head down. And every time before now, you've been telling the truth. But today you lied." His eyes widened. "What did you do?"

Logan blushed. "A Pure man walked in here asking for assistance in fixing his Enhanced friend's leg. I'm going with him to visit his friend tomorrow. His ideals were very similar to mine, and I will admit he was rather handsome."

Janus smirked. "So, what's his name? And should I be ready for a wedding anytime soon?"

Logan's blush grew. "We only met today. He's just my client, nothing more." He looked down at his glove, a sense of shame filling him. "I didn't even have the courage to tell him that I'm not Pure."

Janus scoffed. "You just told me that he sees the Enhanced and Pure as equals. And I'm sure he'll understand why you kept it a secret." He moved to lean over the worktable, resting his chin on his hand. "So, what's his name?"

Logan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "His name is Roman. He's very kind and charming. He also seemed to come from nobility or wealth, since he was essentially oblivious to the street violence."

Janus started staring at him again. Logan tried to figure out what he'd lied about before Janus turned towards the monitor on the workbench. He typed something too fast for Logan to read before the screen showed a head-only picture of Roman. "Is this your Roman?" Logan nodded, confused. Janus pressed a button and the image expanded to show Roman standing in front of a crowd. He wore a white suit with red and gold accents. A sword was sheathed on his side. But what grabbed Logan's attention was that crown on his head. "That is Prince Roman, first in line for the throne." He turned back to Logan. "And not only do you have a crush on him, you also promised to see him tomorrow."

[fanficmarvelchick]

Monster

Summary: You and Eleven were both experimented on and escaped together to Hawkins. You were in hiding and the last thing you expected was to meet a particularly confident bad boy with a secret heart of gold. (Billy Hargrove x reader)

Warnings: some violence

Word Count: 4.8k

You couldn’t quite tell if you hated being kept away from practically everyone in Hawkins or if it was just being kept away from Billy. It wasn’t like you didn’t understand why you couldn’t talk to him, or be friends with him, but you hated isolation.

It’s taken you years to break out with El. She was the last straw for you. You could handle the experiments. You could handle being locked in a dark cell for weeks at a time, but seeing her go through the same thing broke your heart. Eventually you’d convinced her to break out and the two of you went on the run. Truthfully, you’d have taken anything over being in that place, getting experimented on practically every damn day.

You’re abilities weren’t exactly stress free, and to you they felt generally unhelpful.

You were able to heal anyone and bring things back from the dead (well, only small animals like mice seemed to be able to come back to the real world).

To the untrained eye this might seem like an incredible ability, to be able to stop peoples suffering and take care of the people you love. But everything comes with a price.

For you, the bigger the injury the more pain it caused. Whenever you would heal another person, it was as if you were transferring their pain to yourself. You could feel exactly what they felt until whatever wounds they had were gone.

This still didn’t come close to the time you were forced to bring a mouse back to life. A mouse which they forced you to kill in the first place. The pain you felt was indescribable and dark. You eyes became black as you felt a burning sensation beneath your skin, flowing through your veins.

You’d vowed to never do it again. You’d pretend that you weren’t able to do it anymore. That you’re ability had faded. The scientists didn’t exactly believe you, but you were stubborn enough to stick to it.

When Hopper took you in with El, you told him about it. He promised you that you’d never have to do anything like that again, that he’d take care of you and the people around you.

He was the one who allowed you to go to school, though only under the condition that you spent your time with Steve, Nancy, or Jonathan.

You figured this would be easy. You liked all of them and they knew about your abilities. You also weren’t the most sociable person. Being locked away for most of your life can do that to you.

You remember when Billy arrived. As you were a very quiet person, you were able to listen in on peoples conversations about it.

Only minutes after his arrival and everyone had an opinion on him. All the ladies were swooning and all the men were jealous.

When he strolled into the school with a denim jacket and a cigarette hanging from his lips, you found yourself agreeing with the ladies. The way he walked like he owned the place and the surge of confidence flowing through him had you wishing you could speak to him. You knew you weren’t allowed and due to your gratitude to Hopper, you decided you’d let it go.

Months went by without anything different. You’d continued to spend your time with Steve and Nancy. Two people who definitely did not like Billy. You’d sit with Steve, listening to him complain about the new guy and how annoying he was. You realised pretty quickly that Steve felt threatened in his presence. This was something you’d never understand. You couldn’t really imagine feeling threatened by just another teenager, especially since you’d been faced with much worse in your time.

Your days soon began to change when you were in your English class and your teacher lost it. She’s snapped at this disruptive class and decided on a seating plan. The truth was you didn’t give a shit. It was like you talked to anyone anyway.

You were placed directly at the back of the class and right next to Billy Hargrove. What a surprise, you thought to yourself. Out of all the people, it had to be this boy.

It took only a few seconds before you noticed him open his mouth. He was not going to spend the class actually paying attention so he figured he’d annoy you instead.

“So what’s your story, huh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning towards you.

“Excuse me?” You replied, unsure of what he meant.

“Oh come on” he grinned. “No one can be as shy as you and not have a story”

“Uhh, I don’t have a story” you said quietly, glancing around the room.

“Why don’t you talk to anyone around here?” He asked, deliberately prying into your life.

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I” you replied quickly, giving him a shy smile as you twiddled your fingers. He gave you a smirk as he nodded in response.

“How’s it feel to be responsible for the seating plan? I mean, you’re definitely the one who caused it” he said with a smile, causing you to let out a chuckle.

“Shh, keep it down” he joked as he gave you a slight nudge with his elbow. You couldn’t even hide your smile if you wanted.

“Be quiet!” The teacher yelled, snapping her head towards Billy, feeling her blood begin to boil as she looked around at the class.

You let out a small giggle as you ducked your head down.

“That’s you she’s talking to” he whispered as he leant over.

“Definitely” you agreed with a smile.

When the class finished, you felt yourself for the first time thinking that the class went well. Being the quiet one and not talking to anyone usually resulted in boredom and an overall feeling like you were going to fall asleep.

As soon as you walked out the door, Billy appeared by your side.

“So eager to get to the next class?” He questioned, letting out a laugh.

“Wouldn’t quite say that” you replied.

“Are you saying you’re not the complete nerd that everyone thinks you are?” He grinned as he looked down at you.

“Maybe the real nerd has been you all along” You retorted with a chuckle.

“Oh shit you got me. Don’t tell anyone or my reputation will be ruined.” He replied, trying to hold onto a serious expression.

The two of you soon parted to go to your set page classes. As you were sitting in your next class you felt yourself smiling, so much so that Steve kept giving you strange looks.

“What’s got you in such a good mood? Not that it’s a bad thing” he asked, giving you a smile.

“She was talking to Billy in her last class” Nancy replied before you had a chance, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Whoa, whoa. Billy? As in Billy Hargrove? King douchebag of the school?” Steve said, giving you a shocked expression.

“You should not be talking to him. Literally any other living thing would be a better idea than that asshole” he continued, pursing his lips as Nancy nodded in agreement.

“I don’t know... he didn’t seem so bad” You replied quietly, keeping your head down as though you were being interrogated.

The weeks began to go by and you deliberately didn’t tell anyone about Billy. You hated how much your friends did not approve of him.

Billy continued to talk to you, chatting you up at any moment with little jokes and flirtatious comments. It had become his new mission to get you to loosen up.

“You still haven’t told me your story” Billy said as he walked up behind you in the car park. “You know I thought we had something special, Y/N” he added, giving you a sad pout and a frown.

“Alright here it is” you said, watching him lean towards you in excitement. “I’m a secret agent sent from the future”.

“I knew it.” He replied. “Everything about you screams badass secret agent, capable of assassination at a moments notice” he laughed as he walked with you.

Steve came walking up behind you and tapped you on the shoulder, distracting you for a moment.

“You ready?” He asked, pointing towards his car. He’s being driving you and Nancy to school for the last few months now since you’d never been given the chance to learn how to drive.

Before you could answer, Billy stepped in to face Steve.

“Don’t worry Harrington, I’ll take her home” he said.

“I think she’d rather go with me Hargrove” Steve replied, pressing his eyebrows together as he looked at you.

“Why don’t you let her decide” Billy said, looking at you with a smirk.

You didn’t have time to answer before Steve grabbed your hand and began walking to the car.

“Enjoy your night” Steve said with a big smile as he waved off Billy, causing you to let out a sigh as you were pulled away.

You spent the drive ignoring Steve. You hated that you didn’t have a choice. You hated being forced to avoid Billy and anyone else.

-

The day Nancy and Steve broke up felt like a small relief for you. Steve has now become so caught up with the break up that he didn’t have time to focus his attention on you.

You’d told each of them that you were spending time with the other whilst you secretly spent a majority of your time with Billy.

Billy had approached you after school at your locker when the bell rang.

“You ready to go?” He asked with a smile.

He’d been driving you home in secret for the past few weeks. Though you didn’t let him take you to Hoppers house. You told him to drop you off earlier and he never pushed to ask why. Truthfully, he was happy that he could finally drive you at all now that Steve wasn’t in the way all the time.

You nodded with a smile as you began walking to his car. He knew you wanted to keep it a secret that you were spending time with him so he was quick and discrete. He was also glad that Max wanted to hang out with her friends after school so he had time to talk to you instead.

When he pulled over at the usual spot he’d drop you off at, he turned off the car and leaned towards you.

“We could just sit here for a while” he suggested, looking you up and down for a short moment.

“You know I can’t” You replied, letting out a breath and you looked down.

“I really like hanging out with you... I just want you to know that” he said quietly with a serious expression.

“I like hanging out with you too” you replied softly, a small smile creeping across your face.

You watched him lean towards you, only a few inches away from your face as he looked into your eyes.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you felt yourself move towards him. He took this as a sign of encouragement before he closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours as his hand rose to cup your cheek. You felt yourself reciprocating, pushing back against him as you reached out, your hand pressing against his chest.

When the two of you parted, you couldn’t stop the smile appearing on your face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” he laughed as his hand move to grip yours, allowing your fingers to intertwine with his.

“I couldn’t agree more” You replied with a grin as you squeezed his hand.

“I wish I could show you off to the world” he said, gently biting his lower lip.

“I guess I’ll have to be your little secret” you said with a small smile as you leant forward once again, softly pressing your lips against his.

-

The two of you went on like this for months. At school you’d act like you barely knew each other, trying so hard to make sure no one knew. It was a nightmare.

He’d always find ways to sneak touches or kisses. He’d find a way to catch you alone during the school day and would immediately be all over you, joking around with you or kissing your neck.

You’d sneak out in the late night and he’d be parked up the street, waiting for you so you could spend the night together.

You’d either spend the night sitting in his car talking until the sun came up, or he’d take you out. Either way, it’s all you could think about every night. You found yourself more and more drawn to him.

When the summer came and school finished, you could barely contain your excitement. Outside of working shifts as a lifeguard at the local swimming pool, he’d be with you. Lucky for you Hopper was often out and El knew how to keep a secret, especially since her and Mike were otherwise preoccupied.

You’d planned a night together after one of his shifts. He said that he’d take you out for dinner and then to a hotel for a proper night out. You couldn’t stop thinking about it all day.

That was until he didn’t show up.

All night you waited for him to pick you up. You couldn’t stop yourself from worrying. He had never once been late to be with you, he’d never even come close.

The next day you went to his work, knowing he had a shift scheduled. When you arrived and noticed he was in the locker room, you decided to follow him.

“Billy..?” You asked as you walked in, seeing him sitting on the floor of the shower with water running over his face.

“Hey...” you said softly. “What’s going in?”

He didn’t look at you but you could see he was shaking. He was curled up, holding his knees against his chest. You reached out your hand to touch him and he quickly grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t..” he said quietly.

“Billy, please tell me what’s wrong” you begged.

“Just stay away from me!” He said firmly as he flicked your hand away and stood up, quickly running out of the locker room.

You just stood there for a moment, your mind raising as a wave of confusion hit you. He’d never acted like this; you were beginning to worry.

Days went by like this.

He refused to talk to you, practically bolting away from you whenever he saw you.

You felt yourself panic, going over everything you’ve done and wondering why the hell he was acting like this.

Eventually you felt so confused and hurt that you told El. You confessed to everything. The secret relationship you’d had and how he’d been treating you lately.

You’d been expecting her to comfort you, giving you some type of comfort but instead it looked like a light bulb lit up in her head.

She didn’t waste a single second before telling you about him, about seeing him leaning over Heather. The blood ridden whistle in his bathroom and the similarities he was sharing with Will when he was possessed by the Mind Flayer.

You couldn’t believe it. Yet it made sense.

He’d never acted like this before and a part of you was grateful knowing that it might not be him doing this.

-

When El and her friends told you about the plan to lock him in the sauna, you were all for it. If this Mind Flayer piece of shit was in him then you wanted to know and you were going to find a way kill the thing yourself if you had to. There was no way you were going to let Billy be controlled by this thing.

When the door slammed shut on him in that sauna and he turned around, his eyes locking with yours.

“Y/N....?” He asked quietly, frowning as he took in a breath.

“What’s going on? What are you doing?” He asked as he glanced around, his confusion growing even more when he noticed Max.

“Open the door!” He yelled as he began to panic.

“Turn it up, Will” Mike said as Will increased the temperature.

You watched as Billy began to back up, his chest expanding rapidly as he began to breathe heavily. His hands rose to his head as he started to panic before your eyes.

“It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault!” He yelled as he collapsed to the floor.

You quickly walked forward, peering through the small window as you watched Billy sit on the floor.

“It’s not my fault, Y/N!” He yelled, his eyes tearing up.

“I’ve done some... bad things. Really bad things” he said as he looked up at you, his hands shaking.

“What did you do, Billy?” You asked softly, trying not to panic.

“It’s not my fault! He made me do it” he replied as he gripped his knees.

“Who made you do it?” You asked.

“I don’t know, it’s like a shadow” he responded, ducking his head as he tears began to pour down his cheeks.

“Please believe me, Y/N. It’s not my fault!” He pleaded before holding his head in his hands.

You couldn’t stop yourself from tearing up, seeing him like this made your heart ache.

“I believe you, Billy” you said. “It’s gonna be okay”.

You watched him continue to shake and shrink in on himself. You wished so badly you could go in there and wrap your arms around him. You wanted to stop him feeling like this and you wanted so badly to kill the Mind Flayer.

“Step away from the door” Mike chimed in causing you to turn around.

You barely had enough time to process before Billy launches himself your way, his hand smashing through the glass.

You felt Max pulling you way as Billy struggled to open the door. You’d never been frightened of him before but you were scared shitless watching him break out. The anger on his face sent chills up your spine.

It wasn’t long before you felt yourself backed against the wall as Billy came charging towards you. You were frozen, standing there waiting for him to attack you and you couldn’t move a muscle.

If it wasn’t for El, you would have let him kill you.

You hated how weak you felt as El stood in front of you, protecting you from Billy.

She was the only one who stood a chance against him and even she had been struggling. When his hand from gripped around her neck, you finally moved.

You sprinted up behind him. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulder as you attempted to pull him away. Though it proved to not be very powerful, it did distract him enough for El to get away.

She collapsed against Mike as Billy turned to face you. Black veins were bubbling beneath his skin as he clenched his jaw. In all the anger in his body, you couldn’t help but notice his tearful eyes.

You noticed his feet planted on the ground as if he were struggling to stay still. If only you had known the battle going on in his head. How he was screaming for the Mind Flayer to stop, to not force him to hurt you. He couldn’t imagine being the one to cause you pain, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever hurt you and he was begging for you to run.

In this moment of him standing still, you used it to move it of his way. He thanked god you didn’t try to come at him, knowing you’d never stand a chance against this horrid version of himself.

He’d never felt so frightened in his life. The fear of hurting you had him cowering in the dark corner of his mind.

When El was able to fight him off, sending him through the wall. He didn’t hesitate before running. He would not fight you.

-

You refused to accept that he was lost. That you couldn’t save him.

Once the Mind Flayer had taken shape and targeted El, you realised the kind of danger you were all in.

You’d all been hiding in the Mall once Billy appeared in the car park. You were sucked behind the car, sitting closely beside Nancy as the two of you tried desperately to stay quiet.

Due to Lucas and his smart thinking, he was able to distract it long enough for you to run.

He quickly handed out fireworks and you all scattered, firing them off in order to distract it from El... who was clearly the prime target.

When Billy stormed in, you began to truly panic.

He’d been dragging El across the floor towards the Mind Flayer, ready to offer her up. You began running down to the first floor as she began to scream, attempting to fight him off to no avail as her abilities appeared dormant.

You were trying so desperately to get to her. Watching him push her to the ground and lean over her. Your mind was racing faster than you’d been moving. You couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him and yet here he was, ready to sacrifice your own family.

You were stopped in your track as you noticed a change in his eyes. He was leaning over her as she began to speak to him, his eyes softening by her words as he began to tear up. You had no idea what she had been saying, but you could help but notice the tears falling from his eyes as her hand rose to his cheek.

You watched from a distance as Billy began to rise, turning away from El as he looked up at the Mind Flayer. His shoulders were broad, fists clenched and his face full of anger.

It happened so fast. You watched the creature launch at El and couldn’t stop the scream pour out of you as Billy jumped in the way. He was attacked from all sides, blood staining his white shirt as he yelled in pain.

When it ripped through his chest, that was when you finally unfroze, racing towards him.

He collapsed to his knees before you came running up behind him, arms wrapping around him as he fell against you. His head pressed against your chest as you gripped him tightly, tears falling down your cheeks as you stared at him in shock. You didn’t notice the monster beginning to cave in on itself as it died. Your attention being so painfully focused on the man dying in your arms.

His eyes locked with yours as you rested his head in your lap, unable to stop yourself from crying.

“..Y/N” he choked, staring up at you as he struggled to breath.

“I’m s-sorry” he said quietly, his eyes moving towards the ceiling as his final breath was taken away from him.

You felt his entire weight in your arms as your mouth opened, trying to find anything to say. Your eyes moved rapidly over his face, refusing to accept that he was gone.

You pressed your forehead against his as your hand tightened around him. The palms of your hand began to tingle and heat up as your heart rate quickened. Your eyes clamped shut as you winced in pain; the heat spreading rapidly through your body.

You could feel sharp pains in your body, as through your skin was being torn and ripped away from you.

The pain he felt was so horrific, your chest feeling as though it was shattering beneath your skin. El was attempting to pull you away as you yelled in pain, tears rolling down your cheek.

Your vision went black before you could see him. Before you could see the wounds on along his body closing up, before you could feel his pulse coming back. You could only remember falling back against El before you became completely unconscious.

-

Light was stinging at the corner of your eyes as you opened them to see the ceiling. You frowned for a moment, feeling like everything had been an extremely vivid and painful dream.

You lurched forward in a panic as you looked around the empty room. It was your room for sure, but it was so quiet. You rushed out of the door as your heart races, eyes tearing up as you thought back to Billy.

Your body stopped suddenly, staring up into the eyes of Billy as he stood at the other end of the lounge. His lips parted as he thought of something to say but he came up with nothing.

You were moving so quick yet your body felt numb. It felt like someone was controlling you as you ran to him, jumping up and wrapping your arms and legs around him.

He immediately wrapped his arms tightly around you as he pressed his head into the nape of your neck, his eyes tearing up as he held you in his arms.

Your feet dropped to the floor as you stared up at him, eyes scanning his face. He was okay. He was alive. He was beautiful.

“Billy...” you whispered, your voice cracking as you felt yourself tear up.

His hand rose to your cheek as he sucked in a breath. He leant down slowly before pressing his lips softly and hesitantly against yours. His hands were resting on your waist as he kissed you, touching you as if you were made of glass.

He wanted to hold you so tightly against him, to pick you up and spin you around. He wished him could kiss you with every fibre of his being, but the fear of hurting you was still inside him.

You pulled away slowly, your eyes still closed for a moment as you let out a breath, savouring the feeling of him being right here in front of you.

-

As the weeks went by, he became slowly more comfortable with you again. But he was still so quiet. He never once talked to you about what he did and what it felt like.

You definitely didn’t want to push him but you knew how much it must be bugging him. There were moments when you’d catch him just thinking to himself, a sad look on his face and you knew he was going through memories of what happened.

The two of you were lying in your bed one night, facing each other and intertwining your fingers.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” You said quietly, giving him a small sympathetic smile.

He just looked away as he took in a deep breath.

“I can’t...” he replied softly.

“Whatever you did Billy... just know it wasn’t your fault” you said, your hand moving to rest on his cheek.

“It doesn’t change anything” he replied quickly as he looked into your eyes. “It was still me. I’m the one who hurt those people”.

“Don’t say that. You didn’t do those things. It was that piece of shit monster” you stared, unable to change your mind on the matter.

“But it was my hands, I could’ve killed El. I could have killed you” he replied, his hand rising to grip yours as he pulled your hand from his cheek.

“You died, Billy.” You said softly. “You died saving our lives”

“If that doesn’t prove you’re a good person... than I don’t know what does” you added, leaning in closer and squeezing his hand.

“I still don’t know how to thank you saving my life.” He replied before his hand loved to your waist, pulling you closer towards him.

“You don’t have to” You said softly. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, unable to understand how you could look pass the things he’d done. He couldn’t change how he felt about you, being more and more grateful everyday that you were here with him.

“God I love you” He whispered, inches away from your face.

You felt yourself freeze for a moment. He’d never said that to you, or anyone else for that matter. Your heart was racing as he stared into your eyes, but you did not need to think about a reply. It was simple.

“I love you too, Billy. So damn much” you replied, leaning in to kiss him again as he arm wrapped around you completely.

You spent the night in each other’s arms, holding onto him tightly, as though he might disappear if you were to let him go.

The two of you had been through too much now for you to drift away from each other. After all... you did have shared trauma.

-Hope you enjoyed! :) Thank you to @ateliefloresdaprimavera for the request!

[bangtancentricsblog]

jjk/qw: 1

➣ a little something that came about because of Jungkook’s outfit and the way he was mad feeling himself on day 2 of on:e

❒ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

❒ genre: fluff(?), implied smut,

❒ alternative universe: mafia,

❒ rating: 18 +

❒ word count: 1.9 k

warnings/disclosures: no edit we die like men, a little bit of violence, implied smut, Jungkook is tall, dark and handsome, Hoseok is done with your shit, spanking, violence kink?? Is that a think?, cameo from yoongi, joongki must die I don’t think I missed anything but yeah let me know if you see anything!

main ml • AO3

There isn’t much that bothers Jungkook, not by a long shot. He’s a particular kind of man; he takes everything with a grain of salt so he usually isn’t bothered by anything a simple grunt has to say about him. He is however annoyed at the way this grunt speaks of you. All the nasty things he’s got to say about you, how he thinks a cock hungry slut like yourself is fine with anyone as long as they can fuck you stupid. And Jungkook doesn’t like that one bit as he runs the tip of his tongue over his lips. It does nothing to quell the simmering anger that sits beneath the twitch of his fingertips. He can hear a few snickers here and there others throwing in their own thoughts.

Hoseok can see the glazed look that fills Jungkook’s eyes the longer their subordinates speak ill of you. He’s known the younger long enough to understand his limits and this was a limit. It’s a peculiar thing to Hoseok the way Jungkook is with you, he’s soft and sweet but not all the time. And Hoseok will admit he’s walked in on his fair share of your sexual escapades to know that you and Jungkook were something completely different. If he were to compare your relationship to anything he’d say a modern day Harley Quinn and the Joker except with a whole lot less crazy. You two had your moments but he hadn’t seen anything too extreme, yet. The fact was Jungkook ran the biggest underground operations in the world and you, well you were his biggest asset.

Hoseok knew you were good at your job, better than most almost as if you’d been born for it. Now he isn’t saying that you don’t play the ditzy slut well because you do but he knows you’re much, much more than that. You let the underlings believe you’re nothing but a dumb bimbo who likes to sit all pretty in Jungkooks lap when he so pleases. Let them believe you’re nothing but huge tits with a pussy made of gold to have their boss keep you around like he does. It’s laughable really, especially to Hoseok because he knows you.

He knows that Jungkook is the brawn, the face of the operation but you were the brain. You were the reason Jungkook now sat in a gilded throne like the king of an empire when he came from nothing, and he’d done it all for you. Because if Jungkook was king then you were the queen, his queen and Hoseok respected that. So who is he to try and stop Jungkook from harming easily dispensable nobodies? Truth is he could care less but recruiting is slow right now and he doubts Jimin would have anyone ready to replace the empty positions. He’s sighing before he can think better of it, but as luck has it you come waltzing in.

There’s a distinct click clack that comes from your Louboutin heels every time you step foot in the massive warehouse Jungkook runs the operation from. In fact the previous voices have gone quiet as you easily make your way to the back headed straight for the second floor where Jungkook sits and oversees the work of those beneath him. The long sleeved v-neck bodycon dress you wear molds to your figure in a way that grabs the attention of all of those who’d been previously lusting after you, but this outfit is for Jungkook.

You waste no time taking your rightful place in his lap, both legs thrown over his thighs as you sit sideways to better wrap your arms around his neck. Today he’s wearing red, a silk patterned shirt tucked into his pants with nearly all the buttons undone. His chest is out little glimpses of ink peak out from where the shirt lies open for your viewing pleasure. His fingers have found the slight sliver of skin that lies just above the top of your thigh high boots and below the hem of your dress. He’s quick to draw patterns on the only skin available to him, your gaze falls to the necklace that sits pretty at his collar. A thin silver chain you’ve seen once or twice, it makes him look sexier.

“Hello Hoseok.” you chirp never taking your eyes off Jungkook.

“____, to what do we owe the pleasure?” he asks.

“Can’t I just enjoy the company of my boyfriend and his right hand man?”

“No, there’s always something with you.” he sighs gaze moving to Jungkook who has begun to mouth at your neck as you giggle into his ear.

“You guys are weirdly attached at the hip, it’s kinda gross.” Hoseok shudders, before snapping his attention to the sound of voices making their way closer to them. Jungkook, it seems, has also noticed the new arrival pecking your cheek one last time before he’s staring long and hard at one of their subordinates. A boy in his early twenties, Joongki he thinks his name is, personally Hoseok can’t stand him. The boy thinks he’s a hotshot because Taehyung had been nice to him a few times, and had managed to complete a job fairly quicker than some of the others. Had heard him boast that he would definitely be moving up in rank soon, maybe even to the same rank as Yoongi, which was laughable really considering Yoongi did a lot of one man jobs and was good enough to have been recruited to the CIA.

But he supposed a boy could dream, it would take him decades to get to Yoongi’s pay grade and even then it would never happen, not with the way you disliked him. Maybe it’s his arrogance, maybe it’s his swagger (or lack of) but something about his recruitment hadn’t sat well with you. You’d played your dumb bimbo part well when he was around giggling up a storm with him really boosting his ego because it was fun to watch him think your laugh was something he’d said and not actually him. Because as far as you could tell he was a goddamn joke, a real chump and one that they should’ve gotten rid of sooner. But you trusted Jungkook and the boys, so if they kept him around it was for a reason. You’d yet to see it though, today was no different.

Joongki saunters into the room, nose to the sky which already sets you off. Then he’s giving you a once over, the ugly shit brown of his eyes darkened as they zero in on the hemline of the number you’re wearing. You want to wrinkle your nose in disgust because eww you’d never. Then he’s greeting Hoseok and Jungkook like they’re friends, as if he’s on equal standing with them. But what really pisses you off is the way he greets you, the lecherous ‘hey doll’ he let’s slip past his lips makes your blood boil. Heat rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin to the point that Jungkook has to squeeze one of your thighs to reign in your anger.

“Joongki, why are you here?” Hoseok finally asks swallowing thickly, as tension fills the air.

“I’m a higher up now so I’m entitled to the second floor.” He grins, your eyes meet Hoseok’s in confusion, who had promoted this clusterfuck of a human?

“Who promoted you?” Jungkook asks, expression pinched.

“No one directly but Taehyung mentioned a rank promotion a few days ago and I’m the only one worth promoting.” You laugh, an ugly gut busting laugh that fills the halls and startles the others that occupy the floor.

“You stupid, stupid boy.” You say in between hiccups. His eyes narrow at you.

“What would a fucktoy like you know? You’re just here because Jungkook likes an easy fuck.” He spits. Oh what a poor fragile ego he has, you think with a smirk.

“Oh honey I’m more than an easy fuck.” You stand now, easily stepping into his space, in your heels you're a few inches shorter than him. Today was the perfect day for these, you think.

“Yeah, you fancy yourself a housewife? Sorry but whores like you could never be a housewife.” You land a solid blow to his cheek, stupid disrespectful kids. Your hand throbs, the warmed metal of the rings you wear press into your palm as you curl your hand into a fist again. You raise your fist ready to hit him again when a hand wraps around it, pressing into the split skin of your knuckles pulling a hiss past your lips.

“That’s enough, you hurt your pretty hand.” Jungkook says, prying your fingers from the tight fist you hold. Your gaze meets his anger burning in their depths, because this kid was so damn disrespectful. He needed to be put in his place, you refused to let a turd like him talk to you like that.

“Put your bitch in her place.” Joongki spits and Hoseok let’s his eyes fall closed because he doesn’t need to see what comes next.

*

You shove Jungkook against the wall, lips finding the skin of his chest easily. He groans carding his fingers through your hair, tugging on the ends a bit. He’s not surprised that you’d pulled him out the room after he’d beat the shit out of Joongki, it’s one of those things you’d liked about him way before you’d built up this empire. It’s never occurred to him to ask just what you liked about him beating someone up, but he wants to ask now. He wants to know what makes you so much more eager to take his cock, you’re nipping at his jaw, hands tugging his shirt from his pants. He moves to unbutton it but you stop him with a whine.

“Don’t take it off.”

“Hmm?”

“I like it like this, looks sexier.” You sigh, pressing your lips to his a little too desperately.

“Like this, fuck me like this.” You whimper rolling your hips into his. He smirks as you fumble with tugging his pants and boxers down to free his dick. His hands slide under the hem of your dress pulling your panties down, letting they slide down your legs. He pushed the skirt up around your hips landing a solid smack to one of your cheeks, you let out a choked gasp relishing the sting as he smooths his palm over the area. He’s going to thoroughly fuck you, he thinks smirking as you whine needily pressing your tits tighter to his chest.

*

Yoongi stands in the hallway when Hoseok makes his way out the room. He feels like he’s aged years just being in there for that long. He hates when he has to deal with the two of you.

“I saw the lovebirds scurry that way.” Yoongi offers, nodding his head in the direction of the sole bedroom in the warehouse.

“I figured, how’d the job go?”

“Fine, better than expected I had wanted to talk things over with ____, but she’s busy.” He laughs good naturedly.

“Yeah, those two can be domestic as fuck sometimes.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is dangerous. I’ve seen both of them do some pretty crazy shit.”

“Makes you wonder if maybe they’ll ever settle down.” Hoseok sighs.

“This isn’t a family kinda life.” Yoongi mutters, turning on his heel and leaving Hoseok on his own.

[flying-nightwing]

Dark Fox (5/7)

Yoooooo I love this chapter, I think it’s my favourite so far. 

Previous - Next 

Pairing: Jason Todd x League!Reader

Word Count: 5836

Warnings: same as previous

Your eyes were closed but you could feel Jason growing restless. 

It was already the middle of the day and you had not gone out once to train. He kept shifting his position, crossing and uncrossing his legs, and opening one eye to see if yours were still shut. He would also occasionally let long sighs of impatience, like a child stuck inside on a sunny summer afternoon. 

It wasn’t that far from the truth, actually.

“Alright” He spoke up, slapping something on his skin. probably a fly. “This is pointless”

You slowly opened your eyes and stared at him. He was sweaty and swatting away bugs around him, and an all too familiar frustration was growing in his eyes. Although you didn’t do this exercise to spite him off especially, you had to admit you did enjoy to rile him up that way. 

“I know that face” He grumbled, and you raised an eyebrow. “You’re enjoying this too much. Is there even a purpose to this?”

“Yes” 

“Then what is it?” He yelled, throwing his hands in the air. “We’ve been sitting here in silence for more than two hours!”

“Should I make it two hours more?” 

“You are evil”

“I’m making you do this because” You began after an over exaggerated eye roll. “This kind of meditation, when done well, allows you to take control of everything in you. When you feel conflicted, angry or need to find strength, you can tap into that power. But you need to find it first”

“Yawn” He pretended to sleep. “When I made the joke about making tea, I had no idea you’d take it literally”

“Don’t act so smug, you could use it” You replied. “And the tea technique as well”

He gasped.

“Now get back in position, palms up resting on your knees” You instructed, and he only crossed his arms against his chest in defiance. “Jason”

“I’m not doing it anymore” He shook his head like a toddler. “It’s as hot as the devil’s asshole and your little bowl of water is turning this hut in a sauna. And how the fuck are you not dying?”

He gestured wildly at your short sleeve base layer and tactical pants, which you thought was already a wild improvement from what you usually did. In fact, winter or summer, you had always worn your full League suit no matter how uncomfortable it could get. You had learned to ignore it a long time ago.

“Because I’ve been dead since 2004” You deadpanned.

It took him some time to react. “Sorry did you just make a joke?”

“No. I’m always serious” You didn’t concede, but you did suppress a smile. “Now focus”

“C’mon” He groaned. “For once let’s do something fun! I’ve earned it, don’t you think?”

You held his stare that had become wide and almost… Pleading? In a puppy-that-wants-treats kind of way. And thinking of it, he did work all for almost a year without really choosing what to do. You guessed you could make an exception for this once.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked tentatively.

“Let’s go swimming” He grinned, and it sparked an idea in your head. 

“Swimming you say?”

--------

“What do you think they’re doing?”

“I don’t know” Dick muttered, glancing at Tim with a bewildered expression. “But I’ve never seen Jay sitting so still for so long before”

“Do you think they can hear us?” Tim asked, eyes still on jason and you. “Pssst, Jason”

“Hey Jason!” Dick called, louder this time. Still no reaction.

“Jaybird!”

“Earth to Todd?”

“What are you idiots doing now?” 

Both men turned around at Damian calling them out.

“Jason and Foxy are sitting face to face on the floor like statues” Tim replied, crossing his arms against his chest. “It’s kind of freaking us out. There are herbs burning or whatever”

“If you call her that to her face she’ll kill you” Damian pointed out, pushing off the wall he was leaning on. 

“I know, she already pushed me out of a window” He sighed as Damian walked past him to look into the room. He noticed the positions, the shallow bowl of water and the sage burning next to it. It clicked in his head it was something his mother had taught him years ago, still the never ending sitting session in silence were hardly forgettable. You? He wasn’t surprised to see you do it from what he had gathered about you so far. Jason, however, he was surprised he would even considering let alone last so long. He was impressed.

“They’re meditating, you morons” He rolled his eyes. “League stuff. Lets you in into your own soul so deep you can tune out the exterior world”

“Sounds freaky” Dick hummed.

“I’m going to test that theory” Tim smirked, taking a few steps in the room.

“And if you do that it’s Jason that’s gonna kill you” Damian shouted as he walked away. 

“Can’t be worse that being thrown out of a window” 

“I swear one of them is actually going to kill you sooner than later” Dick sighed as he followed his brother nevertheless. He figured Tim would stand better chance at living with backup.

Tim tiptoed to Jason, taking good care to stay far away from you and your range. He had no idea if you had a blade hidden somewhere--you probably did--and exactly how fast you would hurl it at him. He needed to give himself a margin of manoeuver. He extended his finger and slowly, so slowly got closer to Jason.

“Don’t. You. Dare” 

He froze mid air, eyes widening. Jason’s eyes were still closed, but apparently he was aware enough to know he was close. He shared a glance with Dick, not willing to run away just yet even though Jason had quite literally blindly deducted his intention. He moved a bit closer again, and just before his finger came in contact with Jason’s ear, he snapped his eyes open and glared so hard at Tim it made him and Dick scatter out of the room. He help his glare a little longer on the room’s threshold before sighing. 

“I kinda miss the quiet of the hut”

You slowly opened your eyes to meet his stare. You would have given him a smile if your mind wasn’t so far away of your head. 

“Found anything?” 

You shook your head at his question, looking away from the concern that was growing on his face. You had tuned into your mind to find how in the hell and back you didn’t just let the arrow fly and ended it for Luthor. You had hesitated, something you didn’t even know was possible for you. Moreover, you had deviated from the only personal goal you ever had, for what? For the lives of people that didn’t matter to you. It was a good thing you didn’t work for the League on that one, because you wouldn’t have made it out alive. 

It was also a miracle Tim hadn’t ratted you going outside of the plan to go after Luthor. You had fully expected a fight when you met with the rest of the group, but he had kept his mouth shut after what went down. It worried you, because the only reason you could think for him doing that was for leverage, and well, you certainly didn’t like the idea of any of these people here having leverage on you. And with the warning Jason gave you about his detective skills, none of this settled right within you. 

“You’ll get another chance”

It was like he was reading your mind. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you better than anyone, and it was not like you were well guarded right now. You were too distracted to hold up your defenses. Still, you were angry at yourself.

“I let him go” You mumbled through gritted teeth. “I’ve never…”

“I know” He breathed out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes” You snapped. You didn’t need his pity. “I just need to remind myself of who I am”

He held your stare for a second, betraying no emotion. “And who is that?”

You gulped, hesitating despite your better judgement. “I am Thaelib fi alzalam, child of the darkness and servant of the demon”

His jaw clenched ever so slightly, but he didn’t say anything more.

--------

“Am I the only one who noticed Jay’s been… Different ever since he brought back the ninja here?” 

Dick looked up from his paperwork and grinned at Tim. “Right? He’s around all the time now”

“Do you think they’re together?” He asked in between two glances at the files in front of him. They were still on the Luthor case, and he had his own side quest to figure out. “She would seem like his type. Cold, snarky, slightly to very murderous, you know”

Dick laughed. “I mean something definitely happened between them, especially since they allegedly spent all this time together. But actually together? Meh”

“Don’t you have anything better to do that gossip about me?”

Both men’s eyes snapped up at the voice that joined the conversation. Jason was standing in the doorframe of the cave, arms crossed against his chest and a scowl on his face. A steaming cup of coffee was rested on his bicep, but he didn’t seem bothered by the heat of the ceramic container.

“Absolutely not” Dick sniggered, making Jason scoff. “So, you two together?” 

Jason’s eyes went from his older brother to Tim, whose head was cocked on the side. He was watching intensely for a reaction, and it made Jason shift on his feet. He did not like when Tim went all detective on him, especially since he had no idea of the reason why he would do it. It was creepy and invasive, and even him wasn’t immune to Tim’s hyper perceptiveness. Jason cleared his throat.

“You think I’m going to answer this?” He challenged Dick, doing his best to ignore Tim’s weird as fuck behaviour.

“Oh come on Jaybird, do a girl a favor and spill the beans!” He pleaded. “We barely know anything of what went down with you two”

“And I intend it to stay that way” He replied, walking to Dick’s rolling chair. “Now move. Alfred sent me to replace you. You’ve been here for hours and he wants you to take a break”

“Aw, okay” He complied as he stood up. “Can’t say no to Alfred”

“What about me?” Tim finally spoke with a small pout. Jason rolled his eyes and walked to his desk, putting down the steaming mug of coffee in front of him. Everybody knew it was pointless to try and pry Tim away from his work, so Alfred had instead sent him down with about seven shots of espresso in a mug. That was enough to change his expression from betrayed to content. 

Jason waited for Dick to leave and propped down in the seat, keeping watch on Tim from the corner of his eye. His fingers skimmed over the paperwork left behind, but he wasn't very interested in it. He only agreed to replace Dick because like his older brother, saying no to Pennyworth was not an option, not a moral one anyway. 

“So” Tim began nonchalantly, pretending to be interested in whatever was in his face at the moment. Jason braced himself for more invasive questions he would not answer. “How did you not kill each other in the first week of training?”

Jason blinked in surprise at the question. He did not expect something so… Impersonal? He seemingly referred to his and your character, which he must have witnessed while being paired with you the previous night. However, he still remained on his guard, because Tim was being weird. Well, weirder than usual that is.

“I guess… We tried?” He said carefully, frowning. “Didn’t work”

“Interesting” He nodded, taking a sip from his coffee. “I’ve noticed her fondness for violence, which makes sense why you would get along”

“Okay just say what you want to say” He sighed, making a vague hand gesture. 

“No it’s just--” He paused and took a breath. “Something weird happened the other day, after she pushed me out of the window”

Jason raised an eyebrow.

“She landed after me and then she just took off” He said with a shrug. “Naturally I went after her because nobody walks out on me. And imagine my surprise when I saw her facing off with none other than Lex Luthor”

Jason’s muscles tensed, but he gave no other reaction. Fuck. 

“I mean she could have killed him, she seemed pretty obsessed with going there or whatever” He kept talking, obviously noticing his brother’s subtle change of attitude. “But then they just held the stare off until the explosion went off and she instead saved a bunch of people that would have otherwise been crushed to death by concrete. Anyway. Now tell me if I got it wrong, but she doesn’t seem like the type to just hesitate, or care about the others, right? I tried to piece it together, the obsession, the hesitation, her weird knowledge of Luthor’s modus operandi, her whole involvement in this for that matters, but I still come short of the little missing piece to the puzzle. It bothers me”

He watched Tim with his mouth slightly agape. He knew it had been a bad idea for you to go after Luthor with Tim nearby, but he didn’t think he’d put the pieces together that quickly, or rather, that you’d let such a slip go noticed. Nonetheless, he wiped away his astonishment away and replaced it with yet another scowl.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t know, I’d believe you know more than anyone about her”

“I think you’re looking way too much into this, Drake” He dismissed, going back to his papers. “She was raised by the League. Going after a target is her basic instinct, and are you really going to judge her for doing the right thing and saving people?”

“Mhhh” Tim simply hummed, also going back to his own work. Jason gave him one last glance, knowing his deflection wouldn’t hold him back for long. The truth was about to come out, and he feared it wouldn’t be pretty when it did.

--------

“Go on”

Jason narrowed his eyes, his glance slowly going from you to the plank you had lowered above the water and to the post farther into the middle of the river. It rose about seven feet above the surface, and Jason didn’t trust it or your intentions for that matter.

He adjusted the quiver strap and the bow on his shoulder and began carefully reaching the post. Nope, he definitely didn’t trust that setting at all. However, as much as he was mad you had twisted his swimming idea, he was also curious as to what hellish stunt you would make him do this time. He knew you by now, so whatever it was, it would be both dangerous and entertaining. 

He grabbed the post and hoisted himself up by the only step that was carved in the middle of it. He stood up on the small surface, barely large enough to stand comfortably on both feet. He looked at you, and you had already pulled back the plank.

“Hey!” 

You smirked and brought the plank to the other post about twenty feet further down the river. You climbed on it and faced Jason.

“So what now?” He called from his position. “We shoot each other?”

You grabbed an arrow and nocked, but left your bow aimed down at the water. Even from the distance you could see his face drop.

“You’re fucking crazy!” He shouted. “How is this not ending in one of us being dead?”

“You found static meditation too boring” You shouted back. “This should do it to find your balance and inner strength”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

“Dodge the arrow” You said, lifting your bow and shooting straight at him.

The arrow flew at him, and in his attempt to dodge it, lost balance and landed in the water. He came up with a gasp, and swam back to the wooden post before the strong current could drag him away. He climbed again, all drenched and glaring at you.

“Or fall and get wet”

“Oh, because you’re so good at dodging arrows from a upright tree trunk without falling” He snarked back as he took off his tank top and threw it on the shore.. “I’d love to see you on the other end of these”

For emphasis he raised his own bow. You shrugged and slipped your bow through your arm and head to rest it on your back, and waited for him to shoot. In a blink he nocked his first arrow, aiming from your left shoulder. You leaned out of the way, stable on your post, then slowly returned to your position. You raised your eyebrow in challenge, and oh did he not like that. The next arrow went to your feet, and you simply jumped, landing back solidly on your feet. He shot at the same place again, you jumped, then aimed for your mid section rapidly after. You landed on your left foot and crouched so your right slipped along the post, resting on the step in the middle. Jason paused a moment, eyes wide, before shooting straight at you. You propelled yourself up, then saw a second and third arrow coming your way before you had the time to stabilize yourself. You saved your eminent fall with a side vault and landed gracefully.

“Oh you must be kidding me!”

“Don’t act so surprised” You teased. “You can do that too, Jason. Close your eyes and take a deep breath, don’t think about it too much. Empty your mind and trust your instinct”

You waited as his shoulders went up and down, and his eyes slowly opened. Without waiting you shot an arrow, an easy one to dodge and he did, seemingly on instinct. You shot another, he jumped over it. His landing was wobbly, but he didn’t fall. His eyes lit up like when he found out a game he liked, and he began shooting back at you. You exchanged hits, not once falling, well, until one of you did. 

Two quick arrow of yours managed to make Jason land a bit too far to the right, and he fell in the water. However, he didn’t resurface immediately, which made you lower your bow and search the water for him. You frowned, and only noticed too late the wave of water coming on your side. Jason then climbed on your post and tackled your waist, throwing you straight into the water with him. You hit the water on the side, and swam back to the surface with a gasp.

Jason stared at you with a devious grin, daring you to do something about it. You hooked your bow on your shoulder and lunged. 

You had to admit, sparing in water wasn’t something you had ever done, and the resistance was getting to you. Jason was already better at hand to hand, but now he had the absolute advantage. His longer limbs allowed him to move better and to pull himself up on the river ground if you were to push him down, and the fact that he was only in shorts didn’t impede his movements as much as your heavier clothing. The current was rolling you down the river, and when you hit a shallower part, you couldn’t see the posts anymore. 

You now had water to your midsection, and Jason took the opportunity from your stumbling on the higher river floor. He caught you in his classic headlock, pressing your back against his chest. You stopped struggling then, knowing it was over for you. But he didn’t release you, and you didn’t move either when he slightly loosened his hold.

Both of you were panting from the effort, his chest was heaving quickly on your back. The water made your and Jason’s skin cold, but his breath was warm on the crook of your neck. Usually you would have tapped out, or flipped him over. But you were like in a trance, and you didn’t understand why you couldn’t move away.

Why you wouldn’t move away.

“Gotcha”

His voice sent shiver down your spine.

“Fuck, Jay”

It took you a moment to realize what you said. His breath stilled on your neck, and you gulped. You had never called him just “Jay” before, you didn’t do nicknames. And especially not with that voice, and in that kind of circumstance. You cleared your throat, and he dropped his arm and took a step away.

"I'll…" You trailed off. "I'll go change"

“Sure” His voice wavered in a weird way. “Uh, go on, I’ll catch up later”

You turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Is... Everything alright?”

“Yeah" He said. “I’m just, uh, going for a swim real quick. Another one”

Without another word, he submerged himself in the water.

---------

You had Damian in a headlock when the trail of bat family rushed down the batcave in a hurry, Jason trailing behind seeming way less bothered than the others. You looked up, and this moment of inattention gave Damian the opening to send you flying over him. Your back hit the ground flat, and your confused stare at your own distraction was met by a grimace of disbelief from Damian. Okay, you were truly out of it. 

“Luthor has devanced his plan, we got intel he would move tonight”

You pulled yourself to your feet, suddenly interested in the rush they seemed to be into. You followed Damian out of the cage and met the group halfway, glancing at Jason. He only briefly met your eyes, returning his attention on Bruce afterwards.

“He is going to move the weapon in an underground facility just outside the city, which means we will lose the signal from the tracker” He briefed. “The classic, three vans, only one carrying the package”

“Do we know what it’s even for?” Jason asked.

“I found something about yersinia pestis being injected in certain areas of Gotham” Damian stepped up. “So basically, a plague weapon”

“A plague weapon?” He frowned. “Why would Luthor would ever be interested in bringing back the plague?”

“Wait” Dick perked up, running to the working tables and looking around for something specific. He grabbed a stack of papers and came back. “Here, I saw he made the recent acquisition of a pharmaceutical company that produces, wait for it, gentamicin. It’s a plague treatment”

“So he’s gonna drop the virus on Gotham with that little device?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know--”

“Last year Luthor made the acquisition of a low income housing company mostly operating in the Bowery, Crime Alley and Otisburg” You spoke up, a wary look on your face. “My bet would be that device is to slip the bacteria into the ventilation systems, or the pipes”

“... He did” Dick confirmed, looking through the papers. “That would make sense. He spread the plague at a little scale, he provides the medicine, he wins at every steps”

“He IS trying to slither in the city council” Bruce hummed. “Trying to steal Wayne Enterprises’ seat”

“We need to go now if we don’t wanna miss our shot, Bruce” Dick warned.

“Yes” He snapped out of it. “Three vans. Nightwing, Red Robin, you’ll be assigned to the car that will go down through City Hall District. Robin and I will follow the car going through Gotham proper” He paused, looking at you and Jason. “You two work better together. You’ll go North. I’ll send Dick and Jason the trajectories. Gear up”

Wordlessly, you all went to your own dressing area. Yours was simply a plastic box in a corner with your suit folded, and your weapons on a nearby table. You took a moment longer than usual at the black uniform, but nevertheless put it on piece by piece. The tactical pants, the gloves, the undercoat and the protective layer on it, the belt and the spiked arm bracers. Then the belt, your sword on your back and the arrow quiver crossing above it. You reloaded the shooter on your arm and strapped the sheath on your thigh with your blades, then put on the comm in your ear. 

You grabbed your bow and returned toward the others, who were finishing gearing up as well. Jason came and stood beside you, an unreadable expression on his face. Well, it could be, but you refused to look at him in the face. You instead put on your helmet, the black visor hiding your face. 

“There’s no time to waste, let’s go” Bruce called. “Whatever team finds the van, you stop it and bring back the weapon here”

And with that, you went out. Bruce took the batmobile, while the rest were all on bikes. You and Jason left the cave last, shooting out on the road like two blurs in the night. Your comm was on, tuned on the channel with him only. It took him about five minutes to start talking.

“Tim knows” He said. “Or at least he is close enough to know”

“Doesn’t matter” You clipped back, swerving easily around cars on your way. “This will end soon enough one way or another”

“And you’ll go back to the league?” His voice was bitter, and you could only imagine his expression.

“... Yes” 

“Whatever”

You rode in silence until you reached your hideout point. There was still five minute before the van was scheduled to turn the corner and engage on the one way avenue, and you would execute the plan from then. You both turned different directions to hide in alleys, turning off the lights of your motorcycle. You put one foot down, leaving one hand on the handle. The engine was purring softly under you, warm and ready to take off.

“We’ll attack from the sides” Jason spoke again through the comm. You could see his red helmet on the other side of the street. “We take off the doors quick and clean, if it’s not there we lose them. If it is, I take the van and you cover me”

“Copy that” 

“They should be there in one minute, get ready” 

You adjusted your helmet and readied your explosive arrows. You then crouched on the bike and waited for the van to pass in front of the hideout. You counted the seconds in your head, five, four, three, tw- 

“What the fuck?” You frowned when not one, but three vans heavily escorted with motorcycles sped past you. You and Jason engaged on the road nevertheless, coming up side to side at a safe distance from the vans.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen” He mumbled. “Alright, change of plans. Keep your distances behind them without being seen, I’ll cut them upfront. When I start drawing the escort, blow the doors of each vans. Fuck being subtle”

With that, he parted ways into a smaller street on his right. You remained hidden into traffic, making sure the bikers did not spot you. Not long after, you heard gunshots and they all were drawn at the front, like Jason had planned. You accelerated closer of the last van at the tail. With one hand, you grabbed your bow on top of the handle, waited for the bike to get back straight and slowed down a bit. In a quick movement, you grabbed an explosive arrow and shot on the van doors, immediately regaining your grip on the handle afterwards. The doors flew open, revealing it empty.

You cursed, but swerved nonetheless around the slowing down van and paused in the driver’s blind spot. You knew they’d look for you to pass them, so you got ready with a blade in your hands. You waited a bit more before rolling up to the window and throwing the blade in the guy’s throat before he could shoot you. You repeated the same operation with the next van, also taking down two rogue bikers that had left Jason’s distraction to get to you. That van ended up empty as well.

“Two down, one to go” 

“Alright, hurry up, those fuckers just keep coming from I don’t fucking know where-- FUCK”

“Hang on, I’m almost done”

Nothing in the last van either. You frowned, thinking how easy it had been for you to bust the vans. The bikers guarding the vans surely couldn’t be that stupid to still hover around Jason while you were clearly open, even if there was nothing. But you chased the doubt aside, and instead tuned in the frequency with everyone else

“Our vans are empty”

“So are our” It was Tim who replied a few seconds later. “Wait, vans in plural? B, did you get more vans too?”

“Only one, empty too” 

“Where did your intel come from again?” Tim asked. A moment of silence followed. 

“You and Jason should get out of there, something’s not right on the monitor--”

You lost contact when you were violently hit from the side by a black car. You were projected off your bike and sent rolling down several meters away. Your suit and helmet took most of the fall, ripping and breaking with the rough friction on the asphalt. You visor cracked and the protective plastic lining broke at the base. Your vision was blurry for a second, and your muscles barely responsive. You pushed through the pain anyway and carefully took off your helmet, throwing it away. You looked up and tried to focus on the figure in black coming toward you, and when you did, you gathered your remaining strength and managed a kneeling position. It was Luthor. 

You were about to shoot one of your dart when he shot first, sending  a shockwave through your already weak muscles. You fell forward on all fours with a barely contained scream tearing through your throat. 

“We meet again” His voice was deeper than you expected, and way too calm. You didn’t like it. “I knew if I organized this little parade, you’d come back out there following the masked clowns”

So, it was a setup.

“Where’s the weapon?” You rasped.

“Safe in my underground storing since this morning” He replied smugly. “Don’t beat yourself up, you had no chance. You came too close last time at the lab”

“Kill me now and get over with it”

“Now why would I want to do that? I just wanted to see you from up close” He smirked. “I knew those eyes the second I looked at you the other day. And now that I have you here without that stupid mask, I can see you took more after your mother than I had planned”

You gritted your teeth, panting from the pain of the electrical shock that had gone through you. Hairs were falling out of your braid and sticking to your forehead, yet you didn’t care. You could only glare at him.

“But you’re still my daughter. You belong to me” 

You lunged, but another electric shock sent you back on your knees with a strangled cry. It had been a reflex on your part, since you were usually pretty good a pushing your pain aside. But you had been off ever since your last encounter with him. He got in your head so easily, and now he wouldn’t leave. 

“I am Thaelib fi alzalam” You rasped out. “And I don’t”

“Ah yes, I figured you would deny your name when we finally met” He seemed amused. “And you do, legally speaking. Your mother were under contract to deliver you and walk away. Instead she stole you from me. She stole years of work, for what? So you could become no one”

“You killed her!” You belted out, eyes wide with rage. “You forced us into hiding, she sent me to the League to protect me from you”

“Is that what you think? Or what she told you?” He was becoming impatient. “You were special. You were my first successful genetic clone, but her own selfishness got in the way”

“She wasn’t selfish” You tried to reach for a blade on your thigh, but another shock forced you on your hands. “You were”

“I was?” He put a hand on his chest. “I gave you your superior skills, I gave you your speed, I made you like this. I gave you that gift, that power, that strength, all of it so you could make it out in this world. I did it for you, from a father to his daughter”

You lifted your head a frown on your face. You skills? What was he talking about?

“You didn’t think the League’s training gave you those skills, did you?” He scoffed. “As I told you, you’re special, my girl. I only wished for you to thrive”

“No” You mumbled, narrowing your eyes. Your mother never specified you were enhanced. Did she even know? All that time you thought your successes were from your hard work, but they were really from a genetic modification. You always knew there was something peculiar about you that made you feel like you didn’t exactly belong with the others, and it had just been revealed to you. And what else could he have put inside of you, you weren’t aware about? It made your head spin.

“You’re not one of them, you realize it now” He stalked toward you. “Not the League, not the vigilantes either. Your mother stole you away from what you were made for, and the League merely repressed it. But you can’t fight your nature”

You didn’t look up when he stooped in front of you. You only glanced at your black gloved hands, realizing that all you had suffered only delayed the inevitable. If your mother hadn’t ran away, maybe all of your struggle and pain would have never happened.

“Come with me” He offered. “This internal conflict you have will subside quickly enough once you’re back home, you’ll see”

You ears were ringing as his proposition replayed in your head in loops. Maybe if you agreed he’d stop tormenting you then, maybe he’d leave your head and you could finally rest without obsessing over him. You slowly looked up, but something coming on your side made your eyes widen. Only then the sound reached your ears, and in a quick reflex movement, you rolled away.

Jason was walking toward you, shooting his bullet in rapid fire in Luthor’s direction.

Luthor noticed him half a second later and jumped away, running away and climbing in his black car. He drove away as Jason reached your, his eyes trailed on the retreating black cadillac. Then, he turned to you, the glossing red of his helmet staring back at you.

“You okay?”

You shook your head no.

[diredigression]

hey yo can I get an order of "temperance" with Sole aaaand surprise me with who she's with wink emoji

temperance: communication, healing, moderation;

“I’m here for you. You can talk to me.” possible AUs/settings/ideas: comfort, deep talks, hugging, woundtending  

Finally got this out! Hope it’s worth the wait!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was just a raider den-clearing like any other. Sole needed to get out, clear her head, kill some jackasses, and Hancock was all too happy to oblige. She’d had time to cope with her experience inside the Institute, and this felt like a step back towards normal. She’d picked off a couple sentries from cover, then she’d then charged into the fray swinging as the rest realized they were under attack. Hancock was there at her back, blasting away any that tried to jump her from behind.

They’d missed one, apparently. A little smarter than the others, this one must’ve hung back, avoided the rush, sniped from a distance.

Sole goes down with a bullet to the thigh.

She lurches back to her feet, pain and rage fogging her head. She’s not at her best, but she’ll be damned if she’s gonna let one bullet stop her. She vaguely hears pained roaring and shotgun blasts as she struggles to return to the rhythm of the fight. She swings at the raider in front of her, screaming with the effort, and he crashes to the ground. Her head swings wildly, glaring back and forth, but the only figure she sees is the familiar red shape, oddly out of focus. “Hancock! Any more?”

“All finished.” His voice is hoarse. “Still with me? We're gonna wanna take care of that. C’mere.”

The red shape is now pulling one of her arms around his shoulders with his arm hooked around her middle, hauling her away. She tries to pry him off—”I’m fine, I can walk, let me go—” but is frustrated to find that, actually, neither words nor walking are coming easily now that the adrenaline rush is fading. She resigns herself to his help, and he half drags her towards shelter. All of her attention goes to her feet, on keeping them under her, on not stumbling and pulling that leg again on a broken piece of concrete, and to her hands clinging to the heavy cloth of his coat like a lifeline. After far too long she’s lowered with some difficulty onto something kind of soft, a bedroll, must be the raiders’ sleeping area. She tries to prop herself up against the wall, but she’s not angled right and that damn leg is useless and every stress renews the searing pain. She closes her eyes, forcing herself to relent, sagging into the cushioning, letting awareness recede behind the roaring of her body.

“Sole? Hey, come back to me. You gotta get these pants off so I can get to that wound.”

She manages a slight facial twitch in lieu of a frown. She doesn’t want to deal with the outside. Why can’t it just fix the problem without her?

“I know you like these pants. Don’t make me cut them off ya.”

She groans. Forces her awareness through the surface of the fog, just enough to push her eyes open and verify the situation. Yes, that’s still Hancock, kneeling at her hip with an expression she can’t interpret. Yes, there’s a lot of pain in that leg. Pants probably have to go. She forces her arms up, fumbles with the pants, gets them off with some assistance. With the effort returns a bit of clarity—a shot to the thigh, yeah. Could be bad. Forces herself upwards to examine the wound. It’s hardly the first time you’ve been shot, get with it, you’ve got to take care of yourself. Doesn’t look like the artery’s been hit. Of course, if it had been hit, she probably wouldn’t be conscious by this point anyway.

“Lie down, let me take care of this.” His hands are pushing hers away from the wound. A fragment of consciousness spares a moment to note the grounding, almost hot grip of his fingers.

“Just another shot. Gimme a stim.” She’s still struggling with words, and her attempts to grab in the general direction of supplies probably aren’t helping her case.

“It went through your thigh, you need help. You can barely even lift yourself.”

“S’not bad. Got it myself.”

“Just shut up and let me do it.”

Something in the ghoul’s voice gives her pause. Then another thought hits her. “No joke ‘bout gettin’ my pants off?”

A beat, then a chuckle that doesn’t quite manage to sound casual. “Oh, now you miss my jokes? Didn’t ya threaten my life last time?”

“What’s wrong?”

“…this is gonna burn.” And burn it does as he pours alcohol on the wound. Luckily, the burn at least helps numb it a little to the following stabs of the stimpak. He works with practiced efficiency and she finds herself able to let go a little more easily. Soon enough he’s put away the supplies and sat back. She looks up to find him shrugging out of his coat. He drapes it across her exposed legs.

“What’re you doin’? We gotta get back. Get me clean pants and we’ll go.”

“No, you’re stayin’ right there. You gotta rest.”

“What’s the problem?”

She looks back up at him. The stimpak is doing its job and the pain is fading from her brain, freeing space for consciousness. And, strangely, she finds that as she watches him her rage begins to fade as well, replaced with…concern? Is that it? He sits next to her, knees pulled up to his chest, arms folded around them, staring at the coat across her legs. He looks so slight without it, in just the white shirt and vest. The ghoul is so naturally larger-than-life, she always forgets how small he really is.

“I thought I was gonna lose ya.”

“From one bullet to the leg?”

“Not the leg. When ya left for the Institute.”

She snaps her mouth closed. His dark eyes flick to hers for an instant.

“Look, I…you know me. I been runnin’ from myself my whole life. And I know you done a lot a’ that too. So you and me runnin’ together, it worked out well to start, huh? Get in some trouble, keep each other distracted—”

“Wait, stop, where are you going with this?” Fear has begun to creep into her stomach.

“I know how you are and I’m not gonna stop, I need to say this and you’re gonna sit there and listen, okay? No running away this time.” He turns the full weight of his black eyes on her.

Her stomach backflips and objections die in her throat.

“I know ya haven’t told me everything goin’ on with you and the Institute. That’s alright, I don’t need ta’ know, I want to know but I’m not gonna push. The thing is, when I watched you enter that teleporter, all cold fire and vengeance…” He relents and drops his eyes again. “Of course we were all worried if you’d make it back. If they’d let you go, if you’d end up in the middle of a room full of Coursers, if the teleporter would even work and hadn’t just disintegrated you on the spot. But out of all that, I could only see that look on your face. That look that said if you didn’t find what you were lookin’ for…you’d try to take them down with ya.”

Sole’s eyes begin to burn. She drops them from Hancock’s face to the wall at her other side. No. You don’t owe him a response. You don’t owe him a piece of you.

“I been runnin’ from everything good in my life, but as soon as you vanished, I realized I was terrified that you were gonna run from me. From all of us that care for you. I know the hell that kinda anger can wreak on a person, and I know you been hurtin’ from it. Just…you got a lotta good here. Whether you include me in that or not. Course I hope you do, I mean, throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. I’ve got your back and that’s not gonna change. I just don’t want you to make the same mistake I did and run from it all…don’t you leave us behind.”

Avoid. Deflect. Definitely avoid that little lump of warm vulnerability. “You're not going soft on me, are ya, Hancock?” The statement doesn’t come out nearly as clear as she’d like.

His chuckle cracks, betraying him as well. “Hey, everyone's entitled to some softness. For me, it's pretty much everything below the eyebrows.” He clears his throat. “So, yeah. Guess I got a little overprotective, hence the leg. Just needed to get that out.” Turned back towards him, she sees his eyes shifting, looking anywhere but at her, hands fidgeting. He’s about to stand.

Her hand grabs his. For a moment she sees her terror reflected in his scarred face, but then she realizes it’s less terror, more wonder, as he stares first at their hands, then into her eyes. She didn’t plan this. Didn’t intend it. The warmth and strength of his hand is almost overwhelming. She has to say something.

When all else fails, the truth. “I can’t promise I won’t. But if you…feel so strongly…about me…then I’ll try.”

His face softens further, a small smile appearing. “That’s all anyone can ask for.” They sit there, hand in hand, a few breaths longer.

Then Hancock shakes himself and stands. “One clean pair of pants comin’ up. Unless you’re thinkin’ about some sorta no-pants party, in which case—”

“Hancock.”

He winks and flashes her a grin. Perhaps a softer one than usual.

[aeromuses]

Second Chances (An Avatar One-Shot)

   Description: An Avatar fic in which the ending is altered to get out more of my Aang and Katara feels. Just didn’t feel right to leave all of my unanswered questions between these two with nothing but a kiss, no matter how sweet it might have been. Hope this may satisfy some other Kataang shippers out there as well, and I may even write more if people enjoy it enough. Here we go! 

   Separating himself from the rest of the group, young Aang stands outside of Iroh’s tea shop, the battle finally over, and the once blazing sky opening up for him in a variety of leftover hues, gifting him the beautiful sunset that laid before him, a sight he would never take for granted again.

   Behind him, he felt a presence, his head turning to reveal his already smile, the side of his face shadowed within the natural lighting of the burning orange sun, as it lowered before them, the young water bender walking toward him with a weak, yet proud, always warm smile.

   “Aang, I-”

   “Katara.”

   “You did it.”

   “...I did.” 

   There was a short silence, as the acknowledgement settled in. It was overwhelming to say the least, to try to begin to even describe in words what Aang wanted to say to Katara, the way his mind had gone from winding in circles, to the newfound peace he felt, knowing everyone was safe and that Ozai would serve his punishment without him having had to take his life away. 

   “Well, i’m proud of you, Aang.”

   “You are?”

   “Of course.” 

   And then she begins, starting with her rosy blush, as it colors her light cocoa cheeks. Aang wasn’t sure why Katara would be blushing, after all their last moment alone together wasn’t exactly his best of moments, though it was one of the little things about her that tugged at his heart strings, and to see it after all his hard work and sweat, he savored it like it were going to be a cherished memory of his from now on, taking it as a sign that Katara was safe and well.

   As he looks back at her, he notices her hands are behind her back, Aang never having realized the way Katara presents herself so modestly whenever she’s red-faced, usually too red-faced himself to ever notice. Though the water bender typically will glance down, she’s managing to peek at the young Avatar through her blush, as if hoping for him to reply. 

   “What is it?” 

   Aang isn’t sure why, but it’s the first thing that comes to his mind. He has questions for Katara. A lot of questions, even if he doesn’t deserve to pry, or even if he can’t handle the truth of those questions. There are still questions that wrack his brain, especially when he watches her behaving this way, coming undone just a little bit in front of him, showing that soft side to her he thought had gone missing since...

   Zuko. 

   There’s a tightness in Aang’s chest, when he acknowledges this thought. His thought pattern right now is all muddled and confused. Both Zuko and Katara bring him happiness, but also pain. He looks down sadly, Katara noticing right away, as he was always seeming to wear his heart upon his sleeve, ever since the very day she had laid eyes on him. It was something that she was thankful for when it came to Aang, so she could always make sure that he was tended to. 

   “You ask, yet you seem to already fill the silence before I can even answer. Aang, is something bothering you?” She’s lifting her hand now, completely oblivious to Aang having pointed out the little display of emotions that were on her face, instead placing her hand comfortingly down onto his shoulder the way she always does, Aang however typically too distracted in most instances to even notice, but Katara knew his body language well. 

   If he were truly upset, he would refuse her touch, though he seems to instead gently lower the stance of his shoulders, allowing Katara to be near him. After all, she was here with him, and that was all that mattered. That was more than he could have ever asked for yesterday.

   “It’s understandable, with everything you just went through.” She adds, in hopes to sound sympathetic. “Which reminds me...what exactly did you go through, Aang?” There’s a worried look on Katara’s face, her speaking tone having melted down to an almost whisper. 

   “Nothing I ever want you to see, or hear about Katara.” 

   There’s a solemn tone to the air bender, his mind perhaps still on that thing that separated them. 

   It was Zuko. 

   “Can we just talk about that part later?”

   “What else is there to talk about? Oh...” Katara looked down, self conscious. She was rubbing her arm uncomfortably. Could he really read her that well?

   “Aang, I was...”

   “Scared, I know. You didn’t think I would make it.” His voice sounded like stone, like a straight-forward earth bender’s. He couldn’t help but be upset over the fact that Katara had also doubted him. Katara, his never-ending source of support, aside from Momo, Appa and his Avatar incarnations. 

   “You liked him, didn’t you Katara? Just give me the truth. You liked Zuko. You were scared to lose me, and he was there.” 

   “Aang, I-I don’t know! Look, it’s not so easy, liking you first of all!” Her hand snaps away from his shoulder, taken off guard by his sudden interrogations. “You’re the Avatar, and i’m just...”

   “Just what?”

   “Just Katara.”

   “Not just. You are Katara, and you’re amazing.”

   “I wanted to be more helpful. Do something more. Help save lives the way you’re destined to. I didn’t feel like I was a good enough match for you. I needed to match up to you. Zuko has been through pain like mine, Aang. We have that in common. But I never loved anyone before, no one but you...” And then her eyes, gleaming vulnerably up at him, that beautiful shade of blue, are suddenly watering right before him, Aang immediately feeling guilty for what he had said earlier. This was Katara, one of the most compassionate people he knew, and here he had taken advantage of that. It wasn’t long before she had broken into a full blown cry, Aang’s face distorting in pain and concern just by seeing her this way. He does what he knows he has to and wraps his arms around her shoulders, as Katara sniffles and wails, something even the Avatar himself was foreign to.

   “Katara, i’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-”

   “Do you know how many times I had to bite my tongue, while I watched all of those girls swarm around you? Every one of them, just swooning over the oh-so-great Avatar, when I was the one who knew you best, who took care of you in every single way that I could? I already knew that we were going to be together, Aang, but I thought it was too good to be true. It was ever since that fortune teller told me I was going to marry a great bender. That great bender was you.”

   Aang’s eyes nearly widened out of their sockets, unable to hide his surprise as Katara revealed herself. His face burned painfully in embarrassment, as she continued to speak, for himself or Katara, he wasn’t sure, though he was fortunate to preserve that same soft sympathetic look he had been wearing, attempting to smooth her over by rubbing her back gently, trying not to push it with his gestures, no matter how good-natured they may have been, while she was breaking down in front of him.

   “Yeah, maybe i’m just a water bender, and I can’t master the four elements, but I care about you, Aang! I care about you more than i’ve ever cared about anything else. Sometimes even more than I care about myself! It took everything in me not to lose it back when we visited the Eastern Fire Nation, where you went to that private school and met that cute girl, but then of course you just had to dance with me and make me forget everything! How could you be so smooth and get away with it!?” 

   The air bender had sworn she had given him a little bit of a shove, and couldn’t believe what he was hearing leave her mouth. He was astonished by her range of emotions, and how she could go from being upset to becoming so frustrated by him so fast. All he knew was that Katara was a very passionate girl, and he didn’t want that part of her to ever change, so he would tread very carefully before speaking at all, the water bender not leaving him much of a choice regardless, continuing to spill her heart out to him. 

   “I know that I had my moments too, and I may have looked the other way, but it was because I was sick of wanting you, Aang! You’re a boy, and you’re younger than I am, and you won’t understand how I feel. Some part of me just couldn’t see it working. But none of those other guys mattered! Not like that. Especially not Zuko. If anything, he’s more like a brother to me. I can’t believe you kissed me! Actually kissed me! Mmmph-” Katara was simply recollecting that very moment in her head, the day where Aang had kissed her just before they had to part and go separate ways before the war, when Aang had finally found the perfect way to silence her, wanting to take away all of her insecurities suddenly in this moment, knowing fully the way they could consume you. 

   For they had consumed him, in the same exact way. 

   “And i’ll do it again.”

   The words left his mouth. The only ones he knew how to say, after seeing Katara this way. A sigh that had dare escape, and her eyes were soon closed, finally able to rest after so long, a stream of tears falling down both cheeks, showcasing her deepest feelings for the one person she loved as much as family, the way she loved Sokka, her father and her mother who she knew was there with her now right in this very moment. Aang’s hands came to clasp around her cheeks, pulling her warmth closer to him, comforting and protecting her in any way he could, so happy that Katara was finally tangible, right here in his very arms. 

   “You may not be my brother Aang, but you are like family. You know I’ve even gotten jealous of Toph at one point, right?” He realizes just then that Katara is mumbling throughout the little private cavern they’ve created together, just by the closeness of the two of them, still shocked yet delighted that she still has so much to say. 

   “I haven’t been fair either, Katara. So many times I tried to gather the courage to tell you. The way I really felt about you, truly and honestly. But each time, I failed. I picked the wrong moment. I’ve always loved you, Katara. During your fortune telling, I kind of um...may have listened in a little.”

   “No time is the wrong moment, Aang. Wait, you what?” 

   “Nevermind...you know, i’m 112 years old, right? I’m not just some kid who’s younger than you.” 

   Katara however giggled at this, her hand brushing up from it’s place on Aang’s neck, not even having realized she had rest it there, smoothing out to touch the mark of the arrow against his bald head, looking up at him experimentally, as if to ask for permission. ‘Can I do this now? Touch you, whenever I want?’ 

   She had to admit, she missed his dark hair that had been present months before, but this was the Aang that she liked best, the familiar Aang, who she would be able to grow with, grow and learn with, forever. “You are some kid Aang, and you’re perfect just the way you are.” Her eyes smile at him, matching the warmth of her actual smile, even becoming a little deepened, as a look of admiration appears, the gentle stroking of her fingers causing Aang to shiver. “I love this Aang, and I love you. I don’t care how many lives you’ve lived. I want to live this one with you.”

   “Really?” Aang was at loss of what to say, still concentrated on this new side of Katara, a side he had never quite seen before. “That’s actually...really beautiful Katara.” 

   “I know.” She said back simply, still smiling. “But I will admit, I do miss your hair a little bit...and you did look pretty nice in that fire nation outfit.” 

   Smirking a cheeky smirk, Aang feels his confidence come back, Katara having been slowly nurturing it back to health throughout their little moment together. “Yeah well, I could say the very same for you. The way you danced back at-”

   “Shh.” Katara places a finger up to Aang’s mouth, not wanting to hear the rest of what he has to say. God was he so good at embarrassing her sometimes. 

   “Let’s just be thankful to have each other again Aang.” Suddenly separating their bodies, she’s taken his hand softly to look up at the sunset that’s still in the sky, watching it’s last glow before it turns into the dusk. “And thankful that this war is all over, and I don’t have to worry about losing you anymore. We can talk about all of the rest of our confessions later...” Her eyes deepen once more, relaxing, and she smiles nostalgically at the sunset, so lost within it’s sheer beauty, that she’s surprised when she feels Aang pull her to his chest, able to hear his heartbeat, butterflies blooming inside of her.

   “Yeah...yeah, I could get used to this. Thanks Katara.”