#i use sm repition in my writing

[brokenandtiredsouls]

Come Home With Me?

a small piece of my parkner fic that i may or may not finish(based on an au from Bela, where Peter is Hades and u know what it kind of doesn’t follow Bella’s au at all but i was insPIRed anyways Hades is Peter y’all ok cool bye), idk but this is for u @parknerplease i hope u like:

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He's 21.

Abbie Keener?

She's gone.

It hurts, oh god it hurts so much-

“Harley.” The cool voice of Hades shocks Harley enough to ground himself, if not for just a second. The cool floors of his lab are littered with tools and discarded pieces of metal, and he hasn't gone up from his lab in days, probably.

“Why'd you take her,” Harley rasps, voice raw and broken from all the screaming and sobbing. His voice cracks, and his eyes hold a fury Hades has only seen rivaled by Ares himself.

“Why'd. You. Fucking. TAKE HER!” Harley screams, flinging a wrench in his direction.

“Harley-” Hades’ eyes seem darker than usual, shadows swirling within them.

“Why are you always tAKING?” Harley has tears streaming from his eyes, again, and he picks up his latest piece of tech, a gorgeous piece of metal with intricate wiring twisted within, a copy of Tony’s gauntlet but with more power, more destruction within. 

He throws it at Hades. Hades lets it crash into him, and stumbles back a little. 

“Please, Harley. Harley I never wanted to take, I'm so sorry, please, I don't want to take you too, please,” Hades’ eyes are dark, deep, and full of such emotion it just breaks Hadley even more. “Harley, please,” he begs.

He drops to his knees and runs a grease covered hand through his hair, wild curls sticking up in every direction. 

“Why,” Harley breathes out, rocking back and forth slowly. “Why do you have to take?” His voice is thick and broken and his grief is worn so raw and open in front of Hades that his breath catches a little in his throat.

“I don't know,” Hades admits sorrowfully. He can hear his own grief, and he thinks maybe Harley can, too, because he stops rocking for a moment to glance up at Hades.

“I don't know,” he whines, low and hurt, in the back of his throat, and Hades doesn't think he's ever been this open to a mortal before, to anyone before, and it feels like a dam has opened in his chest and he can't stop.

“I don't know, I don't know, Harley, I don't know,” Hades sinks the the floor too, eyes large and panicked, chest heaving. “Harley, I'm so sorry, but I don't know, the gods before me chose and I never asked to take I never want to take and there's always so much grief and pain,” he turns to Harley, who is now openly staring at the god before him, on his knees and letting out the sorrows of his ancient soul.

“Harley,” he breathes, tears running their own tracks freely down his pale cheeks. “Harley, I'm so sorry.” And he feels the sincerity of it resound in his chest and tries to pour as much of it as he can into his words, begging mentally for Harley to forgive him, if only, please.

Harley can’t. But Harley does, because he knows. He watched Abbie get hit, and he thinks it’s all his fault. He can’t blame it on the god. “It’s,” Harley’s voice cracks and he has to stop, trembling on his little place on the floor, and for a terrible moment, Hades thinks every time he comes to visit all he will receive from the boy with the stars etched into his skin, the universe trapped behind his eyes, and the brightest, most beautiful soul, is an unforgiving coldness. He fears this might break him. But then again, Harley has always been unpredictable. Stronger than anyone had ever really given him credit for.

Hades jumps when he feels Harley crawl into his personal space. He’d been too busy panicking to watch what Harley was doing.

The beautiful, messy head of golden curls lay themselves onto Hades’ shoulder, and he can still feel the shaking of his shoulders, but his soul just glows brighter, warmer in the presence of the god of death.

“Yeah,” Harley breathes, pain lacing its way into his voice, but there’s no anger left. It’s a tired, broken voice, but it’s there and it’s trying. “It’s not your fault.”

The god melts into Harley’s touch, and Harley takes it in stride, wrapping his arms dotted with the stars around Hades’ shoulders, breathing evening out.

“Harley,” the god whispers, scared to break the calm silence, but needing to say it again.

It’s ok, it’s ok, Harley whispers into Hades’ unruly dark curls, words colliding with Hades’ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

They stay there until MILES (my Modern Intelligence’s Luminous and Endearing Snark) reminds them they aren’t alone.

“Young sir, Miss Potts is preparing you another meal to bring to you in approximately twenty minutes.” his voice is gentle, and Harley can hear the concern lacing his words. He pauses, then pushes onward. “Would you like me to ask her to stop?”

Harley hums, resting his cheek on Hades’ hair. 

“I think you should tell Pep to make it small, babe.” Harley smiles gently at the approving hum he gets from the AI in response, and lifts Hades from off his chest. “I don’t think I’m coming with you today either, Darlin’.”

Hades turns to Harley and smiles, softly, but surely.

“I don’t want to take your soul for a very, very, long time,” he murmurs gently. He leans forward and presses a cold kiss to Harley’s cheek. “Take better care of yourself, princess.”

He leaves, and Harley can feel blood rushing to places they really shouldn’t be rushing, especially given he was probably on the brink of genuinely working himself to death.

Pepper finishes not ten minutes later, holding a tray of warm pasta and a cup of water. Worry laces her voice as she rushes in through his now unlocked doors, dropping the tray onto the nearest surface to pull him into a tight hug. Words are exchanged, but there are tears, and love, and then Tony comes in, too, and Harley can barely breath, they’re smothering him in such fierce love.

The weight of Abbie’s death weighs heavy on him, and there’s still a gaping, aching, Abbie sized hole in his chest, but maybe, just maybe, he was starting to heal.

He makes it through.

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