#news flash: inductions are hard

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These

(The Anniversary Edition)

Link to anniversary post

Now with amazing FANART 😱

When Eddie finds himself back in his living room, staring down a very alive Chrissy Cunningham, after just having bled to death himself in the middle of a nightmare world, he was rightfully very, very fucking confused.

-Or-

What happens when the new guy, who only just got inducted into the fucked up world of monsters and mayhem, gets stuck in a time loop and finds himself responsible for saving everyone?

Chapter 1: The Hell Loop

WC: 2,902 | AO3 link

Eddie could hardly breathe past the blood that was flooding into his mouth, threatening to choke him before he even had the opportunity to bleed out. He tried to keep it together for Dustin’s sake. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to get hurt or have to see something like this, hence the cutting of the rope, but traumatized was a hell of a lot better than dead, so he couldn’t regret either of the choices he’d made.

“I love you, man.” 

Eddie forced the words out, coughing and sputtering

“I love you too.” Dustin replied.

Eddie couldn’t see anymore, but the tears in the younger boy's voice were hard to miss. 

It was the last thing he heard before he died.

Dying didn’t hurt, quite the opposite actually. Eddie could pinpoint the exact moment he passed on, because it was the same moment the pain stopped. He found himself floating away into an unfamiliar blackness and couldn’t even bring himself to be scared. He was too relieved at being free of the agony and guilt.

Before he could do much more than wonder where he was floating off to, a loud almost overwhelming rushing sound hit his ears. Instinctually, he tried to cover them to drown out the noise, only to realize he didn’t exactly have a body right now. No ears to cover, no hands to do it with.

With that frightening thought his eyes shot open, -oh thank fuck he had eyes again- and his feet hit solid ground. Inexplicably, he was back in the trailer. He looked up to find that the ceiling was intact, and Chrissy Cunningham– whole, and alive, was standing just a few feet in front of him, looking nervous and jittery. 

“Are you sure you have it?”

What the actual fuck?

“Holy shit, Chrissy! You’re alive?!” Eddie gasped.

Her face twisted up in confusion, a feeling Eddie was also becoming intimately familiar with. What was this? Some life-flashing-before-your-eyes-on-the-way-to-the-grave bullshit? But he was already dead, he was sure of it, so that could only mean…

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out. 

Why he was apologizing to some visage of the past that probably wasn't even real, he did not know, but it felt appropriate. 

She’d been through a lot. 

“You’re probably not alive, actually, if you’re here. Since I'm, y’know– dead, and all.” He continued, letting out a frankly deranged sounding laugh as he began to pace around the room.

“But why are you here?” He mused, thinking out loud.

It could actually be her, he reasoned. She was dead too, right? But that would mean they wound up in the same place and that was absolutely ridiculous. 

A sweet little thing like her? 

Guaranteed one way ticket to the good place. 

And Eddie? 

Well, he never had any doubts about where he was going to end up.

The realization hit him like a Mack truck, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Oh my god, I’m in Hell. This is Hell. I ran away. I ran– I didn’t even try to help you and then I fucking died!” Eddie let out a painful sob as he dropped to his knees on the floor, hands covering his face. Now that he was back here, having to face her again after what he’d done, It was all hitting him at once. 

His voice shook as he continued rambling. “Right in front of Dustin too… and- and now this is my Hell. I’ll probably have to watch you die, over-and-over-and-over again.”

He felt the air shift, heard the light footsteps as Chrissy took a few hesitant steps towards him. 

“Watch me die?” She said, voice cracking, sounding so, so small and scared. “Eddie, please… you’re kind of freaking me out.”

Shit, he really couldn’t stop fucking this up could he? 

Even if Hell-Chrissy wasn’t real, he still felt horrible for scaring her. None of this was her fault. He rubbed at his face hard and took a deep calming breath before looking up at her again. 

She wasn’t looking at him anymore though. She was rigid, staring straight ahead at something he couldn’t see, only the whites of her eyes visible as they rolled to the back of her head. 

He jumped to his feet, every instinct in his body screaming at him to run, again, but fuck that. He was already dead, probably, and none of this was real– he was almost sure none of this was real, but maybe he could still try to help her. 

Music had snapped Red out of it, maybe it would work for Chrissy too. 

Eddie raced to his bedroom, snatching his Walkman off the bed before sprinting back to the living room. He knew it was pretty fucking unlikely that the head cheerleader of Hawkins High was a secret Metallica fan, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

He gently placed the headphones over her ears and pressed play, the volume loud enough that he could just make out the sound of the opening riff to Master of Puppets.

-

It didn’t work. 

He hadn’t really thought it would.

He forced himself to watch as her body began to float.

Listened to the sickening snap as each of her arms and legs were twisted, and broken.

Stood frozen, a silent witness, unmoving until her body dropped to the floor like a ragdoll.

He didn't even scream.

He’d tried, and he hadn’t let her die alone. It was all he could do.

Hell or not, Eddie wasn’t keen on hanging out with a dead body if he could help it. So finally, he let himself go, grabbing his keys off the counter, and rushed out to the van.

–

Eddie drove slowly, aimlessly around town, at a bit of a loss for what to do next. It was a far cry from the way he’d peeled out of the trailer park and sped down the road on the night of Chrissy’s actual death, heart racing like a trapped rat desperately seeking shelter from a predator he couldn't even see. This time around he just felt numb.

Not knowing what else to do, he decided to follow his previous course of action. If he was right in assuming that he was being made to relive his greatest hits from the last 7 days, at least this way he knew he’d get to see Dustin’s face again. He drove towards Lover’s Lake, already dreading spending another night at Rick’s.

–

The morning after a sleepless night found him back in a boat, hiding under a tarp, and clutching tightly to the neck of a broken beer bottle. The numbness had faded hours ago, leaving the door open for anxiety and terror to return in full force. In short, Eddie was freaking out. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d left Chrissy's body to grow cold on the living room floor, but the second he heard the voices outside the boathouse he went into panic mode, just as he had the first time, unsure of what or who might be coming for him. 

Would it be more visions from the past? Or had the devil finally sent his minions to collect.

A few confusing moments, and a jab to the ribs with a fucking wooden oar later, Eddie was, for the second time in his life, throwing Steve Harrington violently against a wall and shoving a jagged edge of glass close enough to his throat that one deep breath would draw blood.

He stared into the other boy's eyes from inches away, and he wanted to drop the bottle. He remembered every single thing Steve and the others had done for him as he faced down the worst week of his life, but this could very well be Hell. 

And that might not be the Steve he’d come to trust.

The one he’d come to know wasn’t the same stuck up asshole he remembered from high school, who had proven time and time again that he was a good guy.

And he couldn’t afford to be wrong.

“Eddie! Stop!” The thing that looked like Dustin shouted. “Eddie, it’s me, it's Dustin. This is Steve, he’s not gonna hurt you. Right, Steve?”

Eddie, wanting to believe it so badly, actually did lower the bottle a little, only to accidentally drop it to the ground, his only weapon shattering at his feet. 

He fisted a hand into the front of Steve’s shirt. 

“What are you doing here man, what do you want from me?” 

Steve dropped the oar, all the breath whooshing out of him at once. “Dustin and Max wanted to find you. I’m just here to keep the little shits safe, I swear.”

Eddie caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Robin and Max began to approach from the side cautiously. Right, they had been there too, he'd almost forgotten. 

“We just want to know what happened, Eddie. We wanna help,” Max said.

It was the earnestness in her voice that got him, that made him finally break and move away from Steve, allowing Robin to rush to his side. 

“You won’t believe me,” Eddie said, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice with the way it trembled. 

He was sure they wouldn't believe it. If it even mattered, if they were even really here, if any of this was even real. 

He was still pretty convinced this was all just some form of divine punishment, and only happening in his own head, after all. 

It wasn’t about what happened to Chrissy. He knew they would believe that, they had once already, but whatever else was going on here? This deja vu flashback thing or whatever it was? They had no reason to trust he was telling the truth about the fact that he was dead– or had died temporarily? Or that this had all happened to him before. 

It was, admittedly, unbelievable. 

So, he made a choice. He didn't tell them that part. He told the same story he had the first time around and they in turn told him a very short history of the Upside Down. It didn’t hit so hard this time, since he’d already heard it all once before, but it was still wild to think about everything this group had been through. He couldn’t believe it’d all been happening right under his nose.

Despite himself, he watched Steve through most of the explanations. Eddie had been so focused on his own experience at the time that he hadn’t paid much attention to him after the attempted throat slashing. He looked dejected, sad, already resigned to the fact that the monsters he’d been protecting these kids from for years now were back, again. Eddie sympathized.

-

The week flew by in a blur of blood, sweat, and tears, events unfolding in the exact same way that he remembered, and he never said a word about it to anyone. 

He kept expecting it all to end somehow. 

On the rare occasion that he fell asleep,  he thought for sure he would wake up from this nightmare either back in his bed after having the longest most fucked up dream of his life, or somewhere– else, preferably on a fluffy cloud after having served his penance for petty crimes.

Unless god actually did hate the gays… then he was fucked. 

It wasn’t until he and Dustin were alone, after fortifying the trailer and getting his guitar set up that he decided– maybe he’d been an idiot to just keep going along with the script like this. It’d been days without so much as a hint of fire and brimstone, so either he'd been sold a bill of goods his whole life about what Hell would be like, or, this was really happening. 

Again. 

At this point, neither possibility was a particularly good one. If he’d been somehow sent back in time and given a second chance, he had absolutely screwed it up. 

Fuck it, he might as well tell Dustin now at least. See what happened.

“Alright, uh, listen, I have to tell you something– and I’m not sure you’re going to believe me but I swear I’m telling you the truth.”

Dustin laughed, bright and incredulous as he checked the plugs on the amp one last time. “After everything we’ve been through the past few days, and the shit I’ve seen over the last three years, do you really think there’s anything I wouldn’t believe?”

Ok, kid had a point. 

Eddie took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

Here goes nothing. 

“I’ve been through this before, all of it, with you guys. For a while I thought I was in Hell, y’know? Doomed to relive Chrissy’s death over and over again, and between you and me I’m still not totally sure that isn’t the case, but then you guys found me in that damn boathouse just like before, and everything else has happened exactly like I remember, and I-” 

His speech was cut short by Dustin screeching, “Are you serious right now?! You have to be fucking kidding me! I can’t believe you… you’re in a time loop and you didn’t say anything?!”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows raised up nearly to the bandana he had tied around his head. “Wait, you believe me?! Just like that?!”

Dustin put his hands on his hips, in a gesture that was eerily reminiscent of a certain babysitter that Eddie definitely hadn't developed the habit of staring at at every given opportunity. 

Not the time!

“I wouldn’t say, just like that.” Dustin said, snapping his fingers. “If it was anyone outside of the party I would think they were crazy, but this is you we’re talking about. And like I said, after everything? This is not that hard to swallow. I mean, why would you make something like that–”

Dustin stopped abruptly, his entire demeanor changing on a dime as if he’d just discovered something awful. Belatedly, Eddie realized his mistake.

“Eddie, why would you think you were in Hell? Did you… “ The kid trailed off, and when he spoke next his voice was thick with unshed tears. “Do we lose? Did you…die?”

Eddie sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, I didn’t think– I guess there’s no way to tell you I might be repeating time without admitting it. Yeah, I… died. As far as Vecna, I have no idea. I was gone before Steve, Robin, and Nancy got back.”

Before he could respond, the Walkie in Dustin’s hand came to life, with Robin’s voice crackling through the small speaker. “She’s in, move on to phase 3. Over.”

“Guess that’s it. Time’s up.” Eddie muttered.

Dustin bit his lip as he looked at Eddie, eyes questioning and full of fear.

Eddie shook his head, silently answering the unasked question. He didn’t want Dustin to tell them, or try and stop this. It was too late. He refused to risk the kid, or somehow make things worse by changing the plan this late in the game. 

Dustin squeezed his eyes closed and pressed the button on the handset to reply, “Copy that, initiating phase three. Over.”

Eddie gave the kid his best reassuring smile as he pulled the guitar strap up over his head and with shaking hands began to play, knowing there was no time to waste. 

-

Bleeding out wasn’t any more fun the second time around. 

Eddie had given it his all, fighting tooth and nail against those flying leeches, but there was no use. There were hundreds of them, and only one of him. Just as he had the first time he took off on that bike to lead the bats away, he’d known the fate he was resigning himself to. The difference this time was, he actually had a sliver of hope. 

If the impossible happened once, maybe it could happen again. 

“Sorry, kid.” Eddie said, choking back blood as he watched Dustin limp towards him. “Didn’t notice the leg last time–“ He paused, panting, trying to catch his breath. Talking had already become difficult. “Shouldn’t have cut the rope, s’not like it stopped you.” 

He forced a smile, trying so hard not to let it show on his face just how much pain he was in. Not that there was much point, the kid had eyes. He could surely see the red ruin Eddie’s body had become.

Dustin sobbed openly and it broke Eddie’s heart. 

“God damnit, Eddie!” He shouted, shaking his head and pounding the ground with his fist. “Promise me if you get another shot at this that you’ll tell me. Tell me as soon as you possibly can about the time loop. Please! We have to come up with another plan.”

Eddie wanted nothing more than to be able to scoop the boy into his arms and comfort him, might have tried anyway but he couldn't move. “What if you don’t believe me?” He choked out.

“I'm adopted,” Dustin blurted out through his sniffles. “My mom only told me last year. No one else knows, not even Steve, but… I trust you, Eddie. I’d believe you without it, but if you need to, tell me that and I’ll believe you.”

Eddie nodded, or tried to, and felt Dustin’s hand slip into his. 

“I love you, man”

“I love you too”

Chapter 2

Thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Shoutout also to @theheadlessphilosopher @withacapitalp and @hitlikehammers for the help and encouragement to do this.

Tagging a few friends that expressed interest or I think might be interested? I am ALWAYS happy to tag or remove - just let me know!

Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @mentallyundone @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch

[deeper-x-deeper]

[NEW PINNED 8/24/2024]

WARNING!

18+ HERE THERE BE HORNY 18+

MINORS DNI

got sick of scrolling past a big thing so if you're new CLICK THE READ MORE

hi I'm a 26 year old transmasc boything with an emotional support god complex. (it's mostly a bit but I may like it a little too much) he/him, it/its, or ze/zem/zis (treated as grammatically singular) pronouns. they/them is whatever but not preferred. top surgery and on T. if you absolutely must refer to me by some kind of name/title, Administrator or Admin will do, since that's what I use in recordings and drone style sessions. I use Handler for petplay style things but don't usually use it verbally. otherwise you can just mention "god" in your moans while you jack off to my blog and I'll accept that as an offering of worship. :3

update: I can no longer deny how much I like the title of "Master" so. guess I'll add that to the list.

I am an Aromantic Bisexual Service Switch with a preference for dominance, and despite being proudly easy to hypnotize, I do not submit for just any generic dom, and my submission must be earned. however, I have no preference between top or bottom.

I will mostly be talking about hypnosis on this blog. Honestly, most of my non-hypnosis posts can be interpreted with hypnotic undertones, and my god complex posts should always be interpreted to have hypnosis involved.

I also make my own recordings! The free ones will be linked here, but if you want to keep up with the stuff that I can't post here...

https://www.patreon.com/user?u=118883163

I also have a YouTube page for the recordings available for free at the above link.

https://youtube.com/@hypnosis-rar

💚 asks, anons, dms open, please be respectful or I will block 💚

(I may play up the god complex but please speak to me like a person first)

main kinks talked about on here:

Hypnosis (obviously)

Puppy play

CNC and occasionally free use

monsterfucking including oviposition

idk what it's called when I get off on pretending to be a cult leader but that's here

I've probably forgotten a lot of them but I try to remember to tag oviposition for posts and rbs but I only seem to remember to tag hypnosis on my original posts.

important tags:

#my art [for original artworks I either have rbed from my main or are so horny they're only available here]

#my vibrations [for original hypnotic voice recordings]

#text induction [for text based inductions]

#covert induction [usually paired with the text induction tag]

#personal thoughts [for original text posts]

#trance ideas [for potential future scripts]

#records for my research [for posts about my irl and vc hypnosis sessions]

#god complex? it's simple really [for posts containing my cult leader fantasies]

#spiral

#gif (and #flashing but rarely and it's never intense)

[these are separate as not every gif is a spiral, and not every spiral is a gif]

HARD LIMITS

detrans/forcefem

ddlg

feet

💚Final Remarks💚

if you receive a follow from stinkypossum, that's my main art blog.

if you receive an anonymous ask signed

- d x d

that's me

this pinned will be directly edited as needed and I will update the date at the top to reflect changes

let's have fun and be weird!

[january-summers]

Just thinking about some stuff, whole train-of-thought re: Wash's induction into PFL, (and the idea that it would be hilarious if he was actually one of the first Freelancers selected for the project despite being considered by the others to be a rookie) and it sort of spiraled back into the idea that he and Ohio (Vera) worked together pre-PFL.

Cause like, Wash had to have done at least 7* years in the military, he reached at least corporal (I've seen a head-canon he might have even been a sergeant on his way to staff sergeant but got demoted as part of his court-martial and I'm here for that tbh) and as a corporal he would have been a team leader for a small team, or at least he would be cleared to act in that capacity. (UNICOM Corporal: Enlisted Officer 4th rank - Typical Responsibilities: Fireteam leader)

(*IRL court-martials can come with prison time, so Wash might have been in prison for 'a little while' before PFL, then released with just enough time to realise how hard it would be to get back in the fight before PFL “conveniently” came along with a job offer, or they offered to broker a deal to keep him out of prison if he worked for them instead. If he was discharged right before being recruited and he was recruited at the start of the recruitment period he actually would have been in the military for 9 years at least, which I think we all know by this point?)

Anyway, I'm just picturing rookie!Vera has been assigned to David's team (and yes, as always I'm secretly running “his last name starts with 'C' and his 'call sign' was D.C.” head-canons) and she's not fresh from an academy new, but D.C.'s team is the elite in their field type team, so she's still out of her depth a bit.

Naturally, Military Intelligence has proven to be an oxymoron still, and bad intel has them all in over their heads. The team gets split as they're trying to wipe out a target via ground assault. D.C. takes a flash-bang (or alien equivalent) basically to the face and ends up blind (temporarily) so he's out there with a makeshift blindfold wrapped around his head to stop his eyes taking any more radiant damage and letting Vera steer them through the unfriendly terrain.

And Vera would really like to go home but they still have a job to do, especially if they're the only ones left, so she and D.C. stealth their way to their objective, but they run into a problem, a small covie strike team, and Vera doesn't know how they manage to take them out between her and her currently blind commanding officer, but they do, except for one, who makes a run for it back towards the covie base to tattle on them after the radio gets wiped out.

The covie is way too far ahead of them, they'll never catch up, and they're running out of time before it alerts the base, Vera doesn't know what to do, but D.C. tells her she has to use the sniper and take the shot herself.

“Can-can't you do it?”

“Literally blind kid.”

“Right. … shit.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, okay, I can do this, I can totally do this.”

And Vera fumbles the sniper into position and freezes. She can't do this, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, and the covie bastard is running fucking serpentine!

And then D.C.'s hand is on her back and he's telling her to breathe with him.

“You know where he's running too, look at the ground, he can't stack it now, he'll take the easiest path, that's how he's going to move, aim, lead the target for distance and speed, take the shot. You can do this, look how well you've already done while lugging my blind ass around, you have the potential, the skills, the training. Breathe. Aim. Lead. Take the shot.”

For three long seconds after she shoots, Vera worries she's hyperventilated herself high and imagined landing the shot that turned the covie's head into confetti.

It was an improbably shot and she'd landed it.

"Holy shit did you fucking see that? I mean, uh... sir? boss? -"

"Nope, still blind :) and you know what, you can just call me David; David's fine."

They finish the mission and rejoin the rest of the team, complete success thanks to their maintained stealth.

A few years later, Agent Washington will point to that shot as proof Vera has what it takes to be a Freelancer when he's asked for his opinions on some potential recruits.

It's the reason Wash was the last to know the Triplets were gone. If he'd heard it from on-high, he would have known something sus had gone down, and his penchant for breathtakingly vicious revenge would have endangered Price. Instead, hearing it fifth hand, Wash was left believing Vera had dropped out without telling him because he'd somehow made her think he'd be ashamed of her, and what kind of bastard was he, that she didn't think she could come to him with her worries, that she'd leave without leaving. Did she know he'd put her name forward, did she blame him?

[spectrechosts]

Vandalize My Heart - Chapter 9

Okay Grace is convinced, she's ready to get turned into a demon now.

Huh? She's not ready? Oh.

Oh.

Full Series

Grace prodded at the mark Lilith had left on her abdomen.

"So, how does this thing work, anyway?"

Lilith looked up from the stack of contracts on her desk and adjusted her glasses. "Well, it's an incredibly complex-"

"Whenever you get horny about ripping my soul apart it just, WHAM, huh?"

"Oh, that part. That is essentially how it works, yes." Lilith said, a smug smile creeping onto her face. "Why do you ask?"

"Mm, I just like to be prepared." Grace said, tracing her finger across the intricate linework. "I think I'm ready now, Lilith."

The effects of her words on the Queen of Lust were immediate.

A blast of unholy heat exploded from her, scattering the papers on her desk and hitting Grace like she had just opened an oven an inch from her face. Her mark flared to life an instant later, shining more intensely than ever before. Grace crumpled into a heap on the sofa, writhing.

"Hhhoh god even when I know it's coming-" She whined, as Lilith stalked across the room toward her.

"You know Grace, I'm so fucking happy you think you're ready." She said, looming over her. Her body shifted as her internal fire roared, becoming larger and more monstrous. Horns, spikes, talons all grew longer and grislier. "There's just one, tiny problem. Do you know what that is, little lamb?"

"U-um, you're, you're being kinda scary right now-" Grace said shakily.

Lilith touched one of those horrific claws to her mark, causing new glowing lines to etch across her skin and stitch together into an expanded crest. She met Grace's gaze with eyes like burning coals and flashed a sharp-toothed grin.

"You're asking me to take your soul, when you should be begging."

Grace's skin flushed, her body went completely rigid, and she forgot how to speak.

"I, uh, I-I-" She stammered, before swallowing hard.

"Mm, don't try now, darling." Lilith husked. "No, no, I've been slacking, your soul should be far more corrupt at this point. Your induction to my realm has been practically chaste." She sighed dramatically, exhaling a plume of purplish black smoke.

"I-Is the mark going to turn off at some point or-"

"Hah!" Lilith barked. "No, darling, of course not. We need to turn you into a proper succubus, don't we? And you're woefully unprepared. The sum total of your sexual experience is squirming pitifully while me or Azaerixia takes the lead."

She scooped Grace up into her arms and carried her out the door.

"Don't get me wrong, it's a gooood fucking look on you, little lamb. But if I just reach in and fuck up your soul right now you'll make a pretty pathetic succubus. Weak magic, tiny little nubby horns, and, no offense, you wouldn't be very good at the job." She explained. "You'd improve over time, but you really want your soul nice and stuffed to the brim with lust before the initial transformation for the best return on your efforts."

They entered one of Lilith's bedrooms, a gaggle of succubi waiting for her. Grace kind of recognized some of them, and she definitely recognized Azaerixia.

"Now, my wonderful girls, they can't touch your soul with my mark on you. So that crest is going to stay nice and shiny, make sure you're eager to please, and you're going to be their new toy. Doesn't that sound fun, little lamb?"

Well, she was being magically teased so intensely she could hardly think, and these succubi were all looking at her like they couldn't wait to help her over that edge, so it did sound fun. And the thought of it making her a better succubus made Lilith's crest tingle in a different, but just as exciting way. She nodded hastily.

"Goooood." Lilith cooed, gently placing her in the bed and turning her attention to the other succubi. "Have fun with her dearests, and don't hold back. You all deserve to feast on her pleasure as I do. Just be sure to teach her some tricks for the job, we don't want your precious new sister to starve out there, do we?"

The succubi murmured their gratitude and excitement, but Grace was focused on her confusion that Lilith was… leaving?

"W-Where are you going?" She asked, and Lilith chuckled.

"My darling little lamb, if I fuck you right now I'm going to tear that pretty little soul out, readiness be damned. No, no, I will wait. Wait until you're ripe, and then devour you, Grace." She gave her a little wave as she lingered in the doorway. "Until then, just think of this as… not seeing eachother before the wedding. Look forward to it, little lamb. I know I will."

Lilith closed the door and sank the room into darkness. Unholy violet flames burned like stars around the room, bathing everything in gentle candlelight.

And among those stars, hungry eyes bored into her.

"I, um, haha-" Grace laughed nervously.

"Relaaaaxxxx, babygirl." Hummed a familiar voice as she was gently taken into Azaerixia's arms. "I've got you, and I'm gonna make sure you have such a good time with us. Okay?"

"Y-Yeah, okay."

Azaerixia kissed her, then released her hug and gently eased Grace onto her back, evaporating her clothes into ribbons of smoke.

"Poor thing, the mark must be driving her crazy." Cooed one of the other succubi, settling in between her legs. "We'll take such good care of you, make your soul so beautiful for Mistress."

Grace's breath caught in her throat as the succubus dipped her long tongue between her folds. The magic was already so good, and now-

Another succubus joined her, the two taking turns swapping off eating her out and kissing the insides of her thighs. They giggled, watching Grace whimper and squirm.

"New girls are always so cute, we haven't even really started yet." Said one.

"She was a nun, you know." Azaerixia said as she stroked Grace's hair. "So cute and innocent."

That got a chorus of interested ooohs from the girls who weren't familiar with her.

"Oh, that must have been so boring! Don't worry cutie, we'll show you a good time." Said the other between her legs.

"Maybe too good for a repressed little choir girl to handle." Said the first.

The two of them got to work on her in earnest, prehensile tongues flowing over eachother as they lavished attention on her dripping cunt. Grace groaned and scrunched her eyes shut, canting her hips involuntarily and covering her mouth. Azaerixia stole her hand away from her mouth and intertwined their fingers.

"Nuh-uh, little lamb!" She chided. "How are we supposed to teach you to use those kissable lips if you do that? Ooh, now that I mention it-" She settled in on top of Grace and kissed her deeply, probing her throat with her long tongue. The demon's breasts squished against hers, and she gagged on her tongue as the two succubi going down on her brought her to her first climax of the night.

"Yummy~"

"You can really taste that she was a nun, mmm."

Grace panted, overwhelmed, as Azaerixia broke the kiss.

"Yep! Veeeerry kissable!" Azaerixia said happily, licking her lips.

"I, um-" Grace stuttered, breathless. "Am I supposed to know how to do that with my tongue?"

"Pfft, no, silly." Azaerixia giggled. "That's a succubus thing, we'll teach you that some other time. It's fun though, right?"

She punctuated her question by winking and making a peace sign as she stuck her tongue out, letting it hang down to her tits.

Grace blushed and nodded meekly.

"Yeah it's cool." She squeaked.

"It is!" Azaerixia said, clapping her hands together. "But enough about that, your soul isn't going to corrupt itself! Drennixi, do you want to come over here and-"

~

"Okay, keep your throat relaxed, and remember: eye contact!" Azaerixia instructed, hanging off Grace's arm and encouraging her as she sucked Helneth's dick. "I know you're nervous but you're doing so good! Listen to how her breath is hitching, figure out what's making her do that and keep doing it."

"G-Gonna cum-!" Helneth panted, as her cock throbbed needily in Grace's mouth.

"Ooh!" Azzy said. "Now, some people are going to want you to jack them off onto your face, but for Helneth you should just keep doing what you're doing. It's a case-by-case thing, you'll be able to tell which they're into when you're a succubus."

Grace kept doing what she was doing, until Helneth grabbed a fistful of her hair and came with a sharp cry. She pressed her lips as far down her shaft as she could and held them there as Lilith's mark pushed her over the edge as a reward for a job well done. She squeezed her legs together and moaned around the succubus's cock, slowly withdrawing as its twitching slowed. One final gooey rope shot onto her tongue as she did so, and Grace opened her mouth to show it off before swallowing. Helneth blushed furiously and covered her face.

"See! You're a natural!" Azaerixia squeed, hugging her.

"I-I mean, I saw you do that like twenty minutes ago-" Grace tried to protest, but Azaerixia could not be stopped.

"Still! You did so good!!!" She said, hugging her even more tightly. "Remember, a good blowjob is 90% confidence, 8% not accidentally biting their dick, and 2% everything else. Now, next we should-"

~

"Now when you're dealing with mortals, you have to make sure there's enough give in the rope that you aren't cutting off their circulation." Brizora explained as Grace tied Azaerixia's hands behind her back. "Azzy likes them tighter, but she's not mortal. Also a freak."

"Guilty!" Azaerixia said gleefully, wagging her tail.

"So you want to keep them about this tight on a mortal, enough that you can stick your finger between their wrist and the rope. But, just for fun, pull it a bit tighter and push her face down into the pillow-"

~

"Now, people will tell you that mortals can't feel what you do to the strap, but they just aren't trying hard enough! Put this on and I'll show you that if you just believe in yourself-"

~

Grace braided Helneth's hair in silence, while Azaerixia braided hers and had her own braided by Drennixi, and so on. She cleared her throat.

"So is this like, a lesson about patience, or mortals needing breaks, or-"

"No, I just thought it would be nice!" Said Azaerixia.

"Oh. Well. Any advice to fill the silence?"

"Sure! So the thing with summoning circles is that it's actually really easy to convince horny people to let you out of them before they've bound you to a pact, but like, running loose up there isn't as fun as it sounds. It smells kinda bad and it's like super loud and sometimes a car hits you-"

"Azzy I've been down here for maybe a month, I remember what the mortal realm is like."

"Oh! Right!" Azaerixia exclaimed. "Ummm, anybody else have advice?"

"If a summoner is being shitty you can sear the flesh from their bones with hellfire and Mistress won't be mad. You don't get to keep the soul though." Brizora said.

"I'll… keep that in mind for when I can do that?"

"Succubi can't impregnate anyone or be impregnated, but you can lie about that if you're fucking someone who's into it or if it would be funny." Said Helneth.

"If it would be funny?" Grace asked.

"Yeah, y'know, like, 'well this was fun, see you in nine months to pick up the antichrist' or whatever."

The other succubi nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah, classic bit."

"Funny every time."

"…Uh huh. Listen, are we going to go back to fucking soon? Because I still have the whole demon crest thing going and it's making it kinda hard to do good braids. Sorry Helneth."

"Oh it's fine! I can just change how my hair looks with magic, it's whatever." Helneth said.

"Okay, Drennixi you take over braiding Vylona's hair!" Azaerixia ordered, placing her hands on Grace's hips. "Helneth, lie down so I can teach Grace how to properly ride cock."

[everythingunderthestarsthings]

Aelita and William - Quiet besties

My own post about Odd and Yumi's friendship inspired me to write another set of headcanons for an equally unusual pair - Aelita and William!

So these are my friendship headcanons for Aelita and William!

Main masterlist/Blog navigation post

Code Lyoko Masterlist

I realize Aelita looks terrifying in this picture, but let us deal with it, shall we?

Aelita and William are the pair that get the least screentime on the original show.

Also, I said I would rewatch Code Lyoko for more accurate headcanons, but college is killing me, so bear with my hazy recollections of the show.

Early on, Aelita thought William was just the guy that made Ulrich jealous cuz he also liked Yumi. He was nothing more to her at that point, so she treated him with civility, that was all.

Similarly, William didn't think much about Aelita at all.

That was, until the whole Aelita remix happened.

William was indirectly the reason Aelita got into DJing and music. He legit thought she had been doing it for years!

Aelita probably pulled him aside after her first show with the subdigitals (you know, after the return to the past) and thanked him, cuz she felt without him encouraging her and he obviously did encourage her she would've never got to that point.

Baby boi is flustered but he's also sincere, cuz he likes Aelita. She's got wicked skills and she's nice and she's a close friend of Yumi's, so he's hoping to get in her good graces.

So now, they're a little more friendly with each other, but with Ulrich's and William's competition for Yumi's heart (those two treated it like war. Atleast, Ulrich definitely did), their interactions were limited again.

When the group needed a new addition, William was the obvious pick, because he'd proven useful to the team. Aelita was okay with the idea overall, but she had some reservations about inducting someone with a normal life into X.A.N.A.'s hell.

The gang didn't exactly tell William everything that happened, so he was basically just a little oblivious to Aelita's past, but willing to help her and the team with X.A.N.A. He's an adrenaline junkie, and again, wanted to be close to Yumi.

Aelita felt really bad when he was caught by the Schypazoa (forgot how to spell it, too lazy to look it up) and X.A.N.A.-fied. The show didn't focus on Aelita's thoughts throughout the series, because obviously, Code Lyoko is a kids show and Ulrich and Yumi were always the ones assosciated with William. We only see glimpses of it -- how she's happy when he suddenly shows up the next day, how she risks everything in the episode where they bring William back home. Fortunately, those glimpses are just about enough, and give us an idea of how she feels.

After he's saved, the gang basically ghosts the fuck out of him, and Aelita is the only person who voices out that they're being unfair to him. He's gone through all of this bullshit -- frankly, her and her father's bullshit -- and she feels partially responsible.

Now, William, after returning to Earth, has to deal with his new ruined social life (thanks to his clone) and also grapple with the fact that X.A.N.A. brutally fucked him up.

He wasn't able to recall his memories after materialization, but I think he gradually gets flashes of memories of Lyoko, what he did to the team, and the number of times he targetted Aelita under X.A.N.A.'s influence. X.A.N.A.'s intentions and history with Franz Hopper would have also become known to him.

X.A.N.A. also had a good idea of what Aelita wanted to do -- retrieve Franz Hopper and destroy it. William eventually pieces everything together and his memories are whole.

Below is a small conversation that I think definitely took place after the supercomputer was shut down by the gang (before evolution):

William: Hey Aelita? Aelita: Yes? William: It's done? Aelita: *realizes what he's referring to* Oh, yes. We just shut it down two hours ago- William: Ah. That- must've been hard for you. Aelita: *after a few moments of stunned silence* Yeah. And hey, I know we never had this conversation, William, but on the first day you were on Lyoko- William: The Schypozoa? Not your fault. I was being cocky. Aelita: No, I should've done something to- William: It's okay, Aelita. Really. Thank you for bringing me back. We're sort of even. Aelita: If you say so. William: And uh- listen, I know you have Jeremie in love with you and the others adore you, but if you ever want to talk about Lyoko, I'm here. Aelita: Oh. Aelita: Thank you. Aelita: And you, likewise.

By the time Evolution rolls out, we see William and Yumi on quite friendly terms again. This must've been the basis for it.

Aelita discovers that William is sensitive. That he's so much different than she thought. William too, discovers that she's far braver than he gave her credit for. But all of this happens in the tiniest intervals.

Both of them have insomnia. Though she loves the others, and they're the ones who have been on this journey with her since the very beginning, William alone is able to relate to X.A.N.A. in a way no one else could. And to William, Aelita's far kinder than most people he's met.

I don't think the others are very aware of Aelita and William's friendship, because when with the team, for a long time, William's voice was muted. Or altered because of anger and misunderstanding. He has a right to be angry -- the others just ghosted him after he had come back from Earth, when he'd desperately needed a friend.

Aelita, on the other hand, had to grapple with X.A.N.A. returning during Evolution and the whole drama with her mother and Tyron.

Aelita spent her nights googling her mother's name, her age, anything to get her wherabouts -- that is, if they're not fighting X.A.N.A. or Laura.

And with time, William and Ulrich get on much better terms -- so much that it needed to be Ulrich who could get William back from X.A.N.A.

They shut down the supercomputer again, during the end of evolution, and Aelita is in tatters.

She can't find her mother, she can't beat X.A.N.A. and she doesn't want anything to do with X.A.N.A. after this. She's done.

Unknowingly, she seeks out William again. They're good friends, albeit a quieter pair, but their friendship sparks up the most when they're in the dark and need someone else who was in the dark too.

Evolution basically cut out Aelita and her music! I think she put a stop to music cuz of everything that happened in Evolution, and William helps her by getting her back to it.

This is when he properly teaches her how to mix and how to create unique sounds (she's a natural, but she doesn't know the theory, right?).

He teaches her how to let X.A.N.A. get to the background -- that she was all that mattered. He had taught himself how to not let X.A.N.A.'s influence define all that he was as a Lyoko warrior and as a person, after all. She had helped, but this was all him, and he likes that he could teach her how to do so.

I also headcanon that Aelita would be the one to introduce him to his future partner.

Aelita and William are the quiet friends. The duo you never knew worked, because they work only in specific ways. Yet, they're the only ones who can soothe a particular ache in each other.

[curatoroffiction]

The Curse of Alice: Chapter 2

Fandom: Ikemen Villains For the first chapter, go here!

----- Content Warnings for this chapter;

Suicide mention

Graphic depictions of death

Graphic depictions of blood

Graphic depictions of suicide/forced suicide (Not the reader or the main cast.)

Medical work performed by someone who definitely ain't a doctor, by sketchy medical standards in the 1800s

Medical torment (Needles, scraping, ect..)

-----

Chapter 2: Satiating Curious Minds

Now that you've been inducted into whatever the hell Crown is, the others are starting to get to know you. Liam is the first to truly glom onto you. He has so many questions and is so friendly and excited. You find yourself drawn to his warmth of personality.

Your cellphone fascinates him. Your clothes fascinate him. You fascinate him.

You don't mind answering his questions. It actually puts you at ease to learn what's different about this place from what you're used to. It helps to distract you from the gruesome murder you witnessed. A murder that went down in the history books as a suicide.

'They can kill you and make it look like an accident.' A voice in your mind rings out, reminding you of the danger around you at all times.

'I suppose I'll be seeing more scenes like that, given the work expected of me here..' You think to yourself as Liam is playing with a game on your phone. He's so enthralled by this simple puzzle game. It's something unlike anything he's ever played. When you taught him how to play the game, he caught on fast and learned quickly. He adapts well to the new and strange. His delighted demeanor is such a stark contrast compared to the scene you'd seen that night.

Your mind keeps flashing with the memories of the man dying on the ground. Had you been saved that same fate because of this 'Curse'? It's hard to say.

Your phone's screen flickers darker and you glance over at it. Ah. Low battery.

Liam looks to you questioningly, pointing to the device. "What's going on?"

"It's low on power. Needs to recharge."

"... Recharge?"

"... Do you guys have electricity?"

"I've heard of electricity. Is that what this is?" Liam cocks his head to the side, blinking.

Nearby, on a couch, Jude, the man with the black and white hair who scowls a lot, has been reading a paper. "Electricity is a fairly new horizon of technology right now."

"I wonder if you guys know about wattage then."

Jude glances over towards you, his eyes scanning your face as he thinks. His thinking expression is quite.. intense. You find yourself watching him cautiously. Did you piss him off? Something you just said registers to him as more important than whatever he was reading before, and you can't read him emotionally. He just seems like an angry guy.

Liam is intrigued again though. Something that connects their time to yours! But he also feels guilty. He didn't know your magic little box had a time limit for how long it could run. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize I was using up the energy of your machine!" He's embarrassed, but you quickly alleviate his concerns;

"I didn't expect it to last long, considering the current state of affairs. It's chill."

You pocket your phone from Liam, turning it off. Liam still feels embarrassed, and wants to make it up to you somehow, but he can't think of something to make it up to you yet. Jude, meanwhile, is still staring at you intently, which leaves you feeling anxious.

What you don't know, is that he's realizing you could be a goldmine of information about future technologies.

"What's wattage?" Jude pries, not yet closing his paper, but eyes still scanning over you.

"Oh, like, the intensity of the electricity flowing through wires. Think of it as like.. A basic unit of measurement for how much electricity is traveling through a line. Without it, even if you guys rigged up a generator to generate electricity, I couldn't control the amount of electricity coming through, which would likely just fry my charger chord and my phone."

"Like 'Voltage'?"

"Oh, yeah, actually. Do you guys have capacitors?"

"What is a capacitor?"

"It controls the output of electricity, I think. Makes it more.. Stable? Manageable. Anyways, I think that's what we'd need to be able to rig something up to charge this thing."

"...." Jude's eyes narrow on you. "You work with that kinda stuff? That why you know so much about it?"

"... No, it's just kinda.. basic knowledge I've accumulated being a person from the -- century."

".. Basic, huh? Do you know how someone could make one of these 'Capacitors'?"

"Not really. Not off the top of my head. If you guys are already playing around with electrical work, though, I bet you guys have some kind of predecessor that would make it work."

"And electricity is what allows that thing of yours to work?"

"Yeah."

"..." Jude grins quite big. A little too excitedly, considering how much he was scowling before. He stands up and folds up his newspaper. "You're comin' with me tomorrow. We're going to go on a little trip. I'd like you to talk with some folks." He doesn't know how long he's got you for, but everything you've shown him here is a clear indication that he'd be a fool not to capitalize on your presence here. Even if you don't consider your knowledge valuable, he can see its worth. And, besides, a trip to one of his inventing warehouses is significantly safer than anything you'd get into with any of the other members of Crown.

Despite the fact that Jude has a cold, distanced demeanor, he doesn't like that you've been mixed up in all of this. He feels bad that you've learned you're cursed and that you're now trapped in this place.

Though, he's not exactly a bleeding heart. The fact that he personally benefits from it definitely influences his interest in making you tag along with him for the day.

You look up to him, suspicious. "... If I come along with you, are you going to use my knowledge to change the flow of history?"

"...." Jude smirks.

"I would prefer to not be used as a resource that could change the courses of events, ending in me destroying the timeline that I came from."

Jude scowls, now standing in front of you and Liam. ".. Huh?"

"Well think about it. If I change things here, in this time, and it changes the series of events leading to when I was born, wouldn't it change things in the future? What if we were to change things so much that I couldn't be born?"

Jude blinks, He's genuinely going to need a minute to think about that one. Could the things you do in the past actually change the future irreversibly? "Is that a fact?"

".. Well, no. Time travel isn't real in my time period. We can only speculate on the concept."

"....." Jude studies your face intently, weighing the pros and cons. You've never tested this theory, and it's all theoretical anyway. So, as far as he's aware, no one's ever actually put these ideas to any kind of test. Until someone actually tests the hypothesis, it's just an idea.

And it's an idea standing in the way of real, tangible progress.

After coming to terms with the fact that he can accept the outcome if things turn into a disaster, he steps one foot up onto the couch, his foot landing on the cushion next to your leg as he looms over you, grinning. "Let's test that little hypothesis of yours."

"..." You can feel the overwhelming, looming danger in front of you, locking you in. He's got his sights set on you and the goldmine of knowledge you keep.

Liam looks to you with a warm, excited grin; "I'm so very curious too. What an exciting question that only you can find the answer to. You have to give it a try." He's visibly excited, almost beamingly so. You can feel something intense from his gaze. He doesn't just want to know, he needs to know. You've just posed a question that no one in this world, not even you, knows the answer to.

You groan, tearing your eyes away from Liam, hand covering your face as you think through it. Every time paradox concept you've ever read is theoretical. You truly have no idea whether any of them could be true. Something completely unexpected might even happen. But in most of them, there's an overwhelmingly intense sensation of "Don't do it". Like the pervasive 'truth' of the culmination of those stories is that changing the past is something people should never do.

And yet something inside you calls to you asking you 'Why not?' - Similarly to when you saw the rabbit, the thought consumes you. It's like the men on either side of you know exactly how to pull out that internal desire to challenge the rules you know to be true.

If the rules don't make complete sense, then why not break them?

These two are extremely good at drawing out your deepest yearning of intrigue. That little voice inside you that needs to challenge the established, unfounded rules. Is this what the curse feels like? Is this something tugging you closer and closer to that fate of tragedy that they mentioned?

You have no idea, but you know you need to know.

"... Okay."

"Man, you cave quick." Jude laughs at you, stepping off the couch as he starts walking out the door. "Great. Be ready tomorrow morning to go out."

Liam's eyes light up. He gives you a flirtatious smile. "I'm definitely coming along." This whole interaction has given him a great idea for how to make sure he pays you back for using up your phone's power. Going out with Jude alone would be rough, but Liam can keep you company to make sure you're not overwhelmed, and maybe you can even have a fun time. Liam stands up, holding a hand out to you to help you up from the couch. You take his hand and he pulls you up. "I'm going to go prepare for tomorrow. You should too! Rest well!"

You watch Liam disappear off into the castle, and you tug your phone out to look at the powered down screen and sigh. The dead man's eyes flash in your mind as you remember earlier in the night.

You've been caught up in a whirlwind of events since then, never quite being able to settle down since you arrived. This is the first moment you've had to yourself, where you can actually digest what happened to you.

You traveled back in time and learned a major secret of the government. Not only that, but you've become part of it as well. You've learned about cursed people, which you are apparently one of. You're supposedly fated to break rules, do horrifying things, and live a life of ultimate tragedy. The dead man's pooling blood feels like it's touching your shoes again. You look down. They had your shoes cleaned when you entered the building. The bloodstains are present though. Your shoes weren't made for this kind of work.

They've decided to give you clothing to use while you're here in this time period, mentioning that they'll have it for you by morning.

---

You begin to walk back to where you know your room is. You feel anxious. On edge. And yet something inside you thrives off of it. Something deep inside you is yearning to see more. Even if it haunts you, even if it changes you, you want to see it all.

"___." You're startled from your thoughts to hear Roger calling your name. You look to see him motioning to you from down the hall. "Please come with me." You visibly grimace upon seeing him which makes him laugh sourly; "Oh, don't be that way. Come on."

You begrudgingly follow him into his laboratory. It can only be called a lab. It's not a medical clinic, as they so earnestly tried to sell you on when they first showed it to you. He has you sit down in a chair as he sits across from you, holding a notepad and a pencil.

"I'm going to need a thorough medical history for you."

You scowl to him. He's not a real doctor, and even if he was, he's a 19th century doctor. "... I doubt you'd know half of what I'm saying to you."

"All the more reason for you to educate me on it."

"...." You're visibly disturbed. Your eyes wander over his lab equipment. "Besides, you're not a real doctor. You're not held to any confidentiality laws."

"Nope."

You look to him in disgusted shock. He just admits it? At least make some attempt to make it easier to share information with him!

He chuckles, seeing your face contort. "Look, I have to have a baseline to work from for my profile for you. The more you help me understand, the better. Which can also help with understanding your curse and the condition it leaves you with." His pencil taps his notepad. "Besides, you can't go anywhere until we understand your curse."

"...." You sigh in resignation, visibly frustrated.

You walk Roger through your medical history, explaining everything as best as you can. There are times where he has to pull out charts, which you sometimes even correct, giving him important medical knowledge and updating his understanding of the human body in the process.

He takes his time poking and prodding you, testing your reflexes, listening to your heart, taking samples of tissue and blood to test and toy with.

You're just grateful that he has syringes.

He seems to appreciate your reactions of pain. Still, you can tell he's trying to be as gentle as he can be. He does relish the way you freak out when he doesn't have anesthetic to keep you from feeling the pain of his pokes and prods and sample-scraping.

"You guys are rich?? You can't afford anesthetic??"

"It's funny that you think this place is ours and not a cage we're also confined to." He mutters, smirking as he pokes you and you groan in pain. He swears he can see some tears forming in the edges of your determined, spiteful face. It fuels something inside of him.

His comment, however, surprises you. They've talked about this place like it's a clubhouse for their edgy group since you arrived, but this is the first time you've heard it referred to as a condemnation. How many of the others feel the same way?

You don't have time to think on that though as Roger jabs you again and you cuss him out, causing him to laugh.

---

After a couple hours of thorough inspection and documentation from Roger, you meander back towards your room, exhausted. Once again, you're alone with your thoughts. You finally make it to your bedroom though. You close the door behind you and sigh, sinking down against the door. The room is gorgeous in the dim lighting. You groan, leaning back against the door, your head stares up at the ceiling.

It all happened so fast.

You quietly close your eyes and imagine the man you watched die. You don't know much about him as a person. And you never will. Sure, you could ask for the information from Victor, claiming it's for the writing work he's making you do, but can you really trust information given to you by a pack of murderers?

You're deep in the lion's den here, and the only way forward is to keep playing nice.

His wretched face haunts your memory as you can remember the warmth of his blood on your face. You reach up and touch your face where the blood splattered. William's touch. It's almost as though they've explicitly been throwing as much as they can at you at once so you never really truly digest what they've put you through, and what you've witnessed.

But you can't allow that.

You hate playing by people's rules, and you yearn to find the goal of this game so you can end it.

It feels like a game.

You don't want to play, but they're making you play.

You open your eyes, looking to the ground. You don't even know what time of day it is. How will you wake up in the morning? You don't know. And frankly, you're so exhausted that you don't care.

Scooping yourself up, you force yourself to head to the dresser. Atop it is a wash bin for you to wipe down with before you get dressed for bed. You use the tools given. The water is surprisingly still warm. When did they have the time to get this prepared for you? They also gave you a loose change of clothes, so you change into them, placing your dirty clothes in a hamper nearby. As you do, you look over the bloodstains. "...."

You're going to have to have your wits about you with these people. Always on guard. Can't get complacent.

Lest you end up dead too.

-------

End

-----

Check out my Masterlist for other chapters!

-----

If you like this chapter, you can stay easily updated when more chapters come out via AO3; Link All of my other random off-shoots for this fandom will also be posted there under "The Curse of Alice - A Collection" series. Thank you for reading!

[allyouneediskilly]

One thing that struck me whilst replaying Control is Dr. Darlings recordings. Not the educational ones, which I imagine were like induction videos for new FBC employees, but his personal ones.

The one where he talks about Dylan killing Roberts, or the one where he is half naked and clearly coming to terms with the fact he had to give himself to Hedron in order to hold off the Hiss as a “large scale HRA.”

Did he record them for the people who would have to deal with the Hiss after he was gone? Did he want the people who would judge his actions after the fact to know what he was thinking?

Did he record them for himself? What we know of Darling pre-Hiss is that he was a very extroverted, excited man who loved to talk to others about his research, maybe he recorded them because it was how he expressed himself, dealt with stress, thinking out loud.

How did these videos end up on the consoles you find them on? It’s hard to imagine he saved or uploaded to them to random office computers, but that’s where you find some of them. Is the Oldest House trying to show Jesse what happened by showing her these videos?

Another thing these videos highlight is the contrast between Darling and Trench. Darling, a man who needed to express himself and talk through his theories, and Trench, a man so secretive we barely know anything about him and only see flashes of through the Hotline. They were friends once. They must have been quite the team back in the day. Its sad knowing their final days with each other were distant, paranoid.

I wonder if Darling knew that Trench was responsible for the Hiss in the end.

Anyway, Darling is a fascinating character and Matthew Poretta really brings him to life. I can only hope he has some role in Control 2, even if it’s just finding out more about him in the past tense.

[strippervanfleet]

Count The Headlights On The Highway (Chapter 1.)

A/N: Hi this is my first fic! I highly encourage you to choose a fake stripper name for Y/N and if you liked it tell me what your stripper name is and what your signature song would be. Hope you enjoy! 💗

Description: A spicy dancer at the local club catches the eye of Josh, and he catches her eye as well. What happens when they spend the whole night in a private room together?

Warnings: cursing, drinking, nudity, descriptions of a lap dance but it doesn’t get graphic or inherently sexual

Word Count: 3.3k

It was just like any other Friday night. I was working at Maggie May’s waiting for the crowds to roll in while my friends and I danced around, and sang out of tune to all of the strip club classics. Some songs we didn’t even like, but after so many long nights of dancing in the club, the lyrics stuck in my head like the glitter we could never quite shake off after the weekend. The hot and stiff air in the back room was traded out and replaced with hairspray, burnt hair from flat irons and curlers, and roaring laughter as we exchanged stories of bad customers, bad boyfriends, and bad coworkers.

The world of putting rhinestones on with tweezers, and blow drying the hard plastic on heels so it wouldn’t cut into my already scarred feet was briefly disrupted as my friend Envy burst through the black velvet curtains.

“Y/N you’re on!” She said giggling and holding onto the door frame, knees bending. It was clear that she had already begun drinking, but who was I to judge? I didn’t even hear the DJ call my name.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit,” I spoke to myself. I ran a brush through my long, thick hair one last time, and wrapped a robe around myself to conceal the dark green lingerie that would be discarded to the floor in a matter of two songs.

“Y/N?” the DJ bellowed in his pseudo-sultry voice over the speakers. “Has anyone seen-oh there she is!” he said, his tone shifting to a more loving one.

“I’m coming!” I giggled, and scurried over to the stage as fast as my clear 8 inch heels could take me. The bar staff repeated my name back to the DJ, and laughed. At this point it was a well-known fact that I was always late: late to work, late to get on the floor, and late to stage. However, if you weren’t being teased, you weren’t quite yet inducted into the dive bar- strip club-family,

I scanned the stage, unimpressed by most of the men trying to keep poker faces on, but sitting there at the end of the stage, one face stood out amongst the rest. It was rare to see a young, attractive face in the crowd of customers, but this one was absolutely radiant. He bore curly brown locks, and the biggest smile in the room- enough to compensate for all the grumpy divorced dads sitting at the tip rail. His eyes and skin seemed to glow from the way the stage lights bounced around the room, and fell on his face. For the first time since I was just a brand new dancer, I felt nervous to take my clothes off and dance, but my signature song began to play, and it was time to put on the mask and pretend this beautiful man wasn’t making my knees a little weak.

I pulled myself to the top of the pole, and did a myriad of tricks including some new ones I had been working on, partially and embarrassingly to impress the young man watching me. The dizziness subsided quickly, and as I reached the bottom I realized he was still wearing that giant grin, completely focused on my movement. While being the one flashing the best smile in the club, he was also tipping the most, so I decided to crawl to his side of the tip rail, and make him feel as special as he was making me feel with his dollar bills, and brown doe eyes full of adoration. I pushed his light orange drink with a salted rim to the side, and sat right in front of him, his eye level being at my waist and chest. The feeling of bashfulness crept up on me again, nervous to take my top off in front of someone so handsome. The feeling was uncommon, and confusing to be quite frank. That feeling melted away as I remembered that I had the power in this situation. I threw my leg on his shoulder, and he leaned his head on it, the softness of his skin almost shocking me. I undid my top, and slingshotted it teasingly at his face. When he pulled the fabric away, it revealed a rosy tint on his high cheekbones. I slung my other leg around his shoulders and carded my fingers through his curls, messing them up slightly. He let out a soft and shy laugh. Whipping my hair dramatically, and grabbing onto the edge of the tip rail I leaned back to expose more of myself to him. He reached his hand an inch above my chest, following the rules, and never actually touching me, and worked his way down to my soft stomach, dropping dollar bills along the way as we both giggled.

The brown eyed boy finally spoke, “Who ARE you?” he questioned me.

“Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you,” I said as I winked at him.

“Deal,” he said as he reached out to shake my hand, “I’m Josh by the way.”

I put my clothes back on as quickly as possible, and met him at the bar. He gently placed a hand on the small of my back as I wrapped one arm around his neck, and placed my other hand on his chest. “You came back,” he said softly.

“Of course I did,” I laughed, looking down at him, finally seeing how much I really towered over him in my heels. Unbeknownst to him, part of my motivation to come out so quickly was to flirt, something I rarely do at the club, but something about him gave me butterflies in a way that even a non-customer has never done.

“Well, get whatever you want it’s on me,” he said, head down and hands fiddling with the edge of the bar, flashing his eyes back up at me to punctuate his sentence.

I thanked him, and signaled our bartender, Holly, over. “Your regular?” she said to me with an expectant look, and when I answered with “yes please” she flashed her signature smile, placed a napkin down, and got to work on my drink. After she slid my drink that was sure to be strong as hell with the heavy hand that that woman has, I invited him to sit at a back table with me away from the commotion.

As we sipped on our drinks we exchanged simple small talk, but I learned through it that he was anything but simple or boring. He explained to me his upbringing in Michigan with his siblings that he had created the band with, the same band that had brought him right into Nashville, now somehow sitting in my tiny strip club. I was wondering what someone like him was doing here alone. He wasn’t the typical stereotype of a strip club goer. His hair line wasn’t receding. He didn’t seem miserable, and he definitely was under the age of 45. So I questioned him.

“Oh I’m not here alone!” he exclaimed. “I brought my brother Sam but he seems to be,” he drew out the last word of his sentence as he scanned the room, finally motioning to a man with sandy shoulder length hair flirting with a red headed cage dancer “occupied.” He finished his sentence by raising his eyebrows and clicking his tongue. We both laughed at him, but the dancer seemed to be engaging or at least faking it to try to sell a dance.

We both promptly reached the bottom of our drinks continuing conversation, but it became harder and harder to focus. I felt a little silly being so entranced by a customer. The more comfortable he got with me, the more animated he became. The shoulder touches and knee grabs became almost regular, and sometimes his gesticulations became so large that he would accidentally hit a girl or her customer, almost knocking their drinks out of their hands. They all rolled their eyes, but it drew me even more into him. His mannerisms made him even more attractive to me. If I was wearing pants he would have charmed them off of me. I heard the crackle that was him sucking up the last bit of his drink from the ice at the bottom, and he changed the subject of whatever we were talking about. I was only half engaged, staring at him and studying his movements.

He seemed to get shy again. He played with the bottom of his glass, and looked up at me through his curls. “So…the DJ keeps talking about this VIP room, and since I seem to have been ditched by my brother, I’d like to have our next drinks there if you want.”

I was shocked. I didn’t think he would ask for a dance so quickly. “How long do you want to book the room for? I can do an hour, half an hour, fifteen min-”

“How much for the rest of the night?” he interrupted.

“Oh!” I gave him the price, not thinking he would actually pay that and settle on half an hour or fifteen minutes.

“Okay let’s go,” he said, promptly pushing his drink forward.

He was so eager it almost made my head spin. “Okay, cowboy. Well I have to go check out with the DJ first, and go to the dressing room really quickly. Give the bartender the fee for the room, and I’ll meet you in there.”

He nodded. “Take your time mama.”

I turned around to head to the DJ stand, and whispered to myself, cheeks growing red, “Mama?”

I practically sprinted to the dressing room to baby wipe the sweat from my stage set off of myself and spray myself down in my lavender and vanilla body spray.

Envy burst in, hands on either side of the door way leaning forward, even more drunk than earlier. “Y/N”

“Yes?” I said trying to hold back from laughing at the state she was in now.

“That guy you’re talking with in the back is SO CUTE.”

“Right?” I all but squealed out. “I’m about to go do VIP with him,” I said nonchalantly as I walked past her, placing a hand on her shoulders to make sure she was stable.”

“Oh, get it girl!” she chanted, giving me a friendly slap on my ass as I headed back to the VIP room.

My hands were shaking, and my knees felt like jello again as I reached for the brass door knob. I breathed to myself, “I’m okay. This is my JOB. He is just a customer.” It was a lie. No customer had ever caught me this off guard before, but I needed to at least try to convince myself that it was true. It got harder to keep up the lie with myself as I opened the door. He almost looked too sweet to be sitting in the room on a black leather couch surrounded by cheetah print curtains and red shag carpet. I sat in a chair across from him and he leaned forward to hand me the cash for my dance. He scratched the back of his neck, and asked if it was enough. I counted it out. That sweet man tipped me on top of the cost. “Yes this is perfect,” I said. I put the money in my little black faux leather purse, and asked him “are you ready?”

“Born ready.” he said, cocking his head to the left and smiling at me sweetly. It almost felt familiar, and eased my nerves. I sat on my knees in front of him, the way I always started a private show. I inched my face close to his clothed groin, but pulling back, teasing, before I could quite get there. As I pulled back I undid my top, and slowly repeated the motion, but this time crawling up into his lap. As I arrived at my destination I noticed for the first time how small his frame felt, especially under me. I felt like I would break him, but he seemed to be blissed out already. I got a kick out of pushing my breasts in his face as I lifted myself above his lap, a hum coming from in between them before he told me I smelled good. Little did he know I was just in the back room, spraying on perfume specifically for him.

As I came back to meet his eyes, I noticed he was sitting on his hands, as to not touch me without permission. “It’s okay to touch a little” I said softly to him.

“Really?” His eyes lit up.

“Yes, just go with the flow, okay?” I said as I grabbed his hands. He nodded at me and lightly gulped as I put his hands on my waist, and slowly moved them to my hips, and to my ass. I turned around so he could get a better view and placed his hands back on my butt.

“You’re sure this is okay?”

“Yes, Josh, this is more than okay. Most customers just go straight for my crotch though, so I appreciate the politeness.” I laughed, and looked back over my shoulder. He was looking at me lightly tracing his hands down my back, and to my ass again, wearing a pink tint on his face again. It was only this close that I noticed even more features on him that sent me even further into this silly little work crush: the small gap in his otherwise straight teeth, the light pink of his pillowy lips, the deep amber of his brown eyes. Even the fabric he wore didn’t feel rough on my skin like most other customers’ did. Focus Y/N jesus.

He spoke quiet praises throughout the dance as he grabbed at your hips. “You’re just so,” he stuttered, “I don’t know you’re just such a woman. A beautiful woman.”

A little over half an hour in, Josh spoke up again. “You know, you don’t have to dance this whole time? I’m sure it gets tiring,” he paused. “Actually, come here.” He moved me to sit next to him, and rotated my body to face away from him as he turned and put his hands on my shoulders, starting to lightly massage them, asking, “Is this okay Y/N?” He continued as I nodded in approval. He spoke more as he massaged. “This has to be such hard work, you know, those pole tricks were really impressive. And you do it completely naked AND in heels?” he half questioned in awe, punctuating his sentence by leaving his hands on my waist, slightly shaking me. I’m glad I was facing away from him, because I could feel my whole body heat up, and a blush creep onto my face. I couldn’t help it as my lips upturned.

“Yeah, but it’s worth it at the end of the day. I don’t think I could do a normal job ever again.” Josh cocked his eyebrows up curiously at my statement, and the questions began to roll in. We got to know each other even better. I told him about my passion for film, but my ultimate decision to leave film school for my mental health. We bonded over being part of our schools’ music departments growing up, him in musical theater, and myself in marching band and choir.

“You have to sing for me,” he said.

“Uh. Hard pass.”

“Hey! I’m paying you for a reason Y/N! Put your clothes back on and sing,” he joked. “Well you can come see me sing one day, yeah?”

“I’d love that,” I said, running a hand through his hair and resting on the nape of his neck to lightly scratch it. He closed his eyes in delight like a cat basking in the sun.

The night got closer to its end, and I somehow ended up with my legs in Josh’s lap with his hands running up and down them. Feeling human in this industry was rare. At times I felt like a commodity, an object. Men made me feel below them, but not Josh. His praises were lined with innocence, wonder, and worship. I felt seen. He made me feel so respected, and like…a person. The conversation was brought to a natural and comfortable silence as we could hear the DJ announce we would be closing soon, and that we were running the last stage set of the night. I felt myself being pulled in naturally until I was mere inches from Josh’s face. He got closer too, gently holding my arm.

“Y/N, I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now, but not here. Not while you’re working. I know you’re probably going to say no, but what would it take for a guy like me to take a woman like you on a date?”

I pondered. Seeing customers outside of the club was usually a bad idea. I knew it first hand, but I couldn’t pass this up. There was something special about him that I couldn’t quite place my finger on. “Okay cowboy, take me out dancing tomorrow night.”

“Then it’s a date?” he said, flashing his big grin, almost vibrating from excitement. He handed me his phone when we decided to wrap up the evening, and he helped restring my top as I entered my digits in. I walked him to the door, and watched as his intoxicated brother looked at me, looked at him, and gave him a high five. Josh didn’t leave him hanging of course, but turned back around to me shaking his head, guiding his brother who might as well have been walking on eight inch heels too, the way his balance was so poor in that moment.

I walked to the backroom once he was out of sight, slipped off my fancy lingerie, and slipped on my sweats, oversized Black Sabbath t-shirt, and checkered vans, almost unrecognizable from my previous state. I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder, and felt relief wash over me as the bouncer finally walked me to my car. I could finally get food, and go to bed.

I decided to go to an all night diner with some of the other girls. Our fake lashes, bright highlight, and bold lipstick looked excessive and extravagant in regular lighting. The waitresses alway had a hunch about what we did for a living when we arrived in pajamas and a full face of makeup, but we were too hungry to care.

We debriefed each other about the successes, and the complaints of our separate nights. My friend, Cherry, finished up her story. “Okay, okay, yes Mike tried to finger my bellybutton for the third time, but Y/N, what’s up with that funky little cutie that you took to VIP tonight?”

I tried hard to fight my smile, but gave in. “Dude, he wants to take me out tomorrow night!”

The girls asked almost in sync, the pitches of their voices rising, if I was going to do it. “I think I want to!” I said beginning to let loose and get giddy with them. My phone went off. I slammed my fork onto the table, almost choking on my waffle. “Holy fuck you’ll never believe this..it’s him!”

They squealed in response, “answer it! Answer it! Right now!”

3:12 am 7194444444: Hi Y/N it’s Josh? So dancing tomorrow night at 8? You can choose the club. :)

There was that blush again. The blush I wasn’t supposed to be given by customers.

[lboogie1906]

Clive Campbell (born April 16, 1955) known by his stage name DJ Kool Herc, is a pioneer of hip-hop music in the Bronx in the 1970s. Nicknamed the Father of Hip-Hop, he began playing hard funk records of the sort typified by James Brown.

He began to isolate the instrumental portion of the record which emphasized the drum beat—the “break”—and switch from one break to another. Using the same two-turntable set-up of disco DJs, he used two copies of the same record to elongate the break. This breakbeat DJing, using funky drum solos, formed the basis of hip-hop music. His announcements and exhortations to dancers helped lead to the syncopated, rhythmically spoken accompaniment now known as rapping.

He called the dancers “break-boys” and “break-girls”, or simply b-boys and b-girls, terms that continue to be used fifty years later in the sport of breaking. His DJ style was quickly taken up by figures such as Afrika Bambaataa and Grandmaster Flash. Unlike them, he never made the move into commercially recorded hip hop in its earliest years.

He was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in the Musical Influence Award category.

He was the first of six children born to Keith and Nettie Campbell in Kingston, Jamaica. He saw and heard the sound systems of neighborhood parties called dance halls, and the accompanying speech of their DJs, known as toasting. He emigrated with his family at the age of 12 to The Bronx.

He attended the Alfred E. Smith Career and Technical Education High School in the Bronx, where his height, frame, and demeanor on the basketball court prompted the other kids to nickname him “Hercules”. After being involved in a physical altercation with school bullies, the Five Percenters came to his aid, befriended him and as he put it, helped “Americanize” him with an education in New York City street culture. He began running with a graffiti crew called the Ex-Vandals, taking the name Kool Herc. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[wikiuntamed]

On this day in Wikipedia: Wednesday, 2nd August

Welcome, أهلا وسهلا, Willkommen, Velkommen 🤗 What does @Wikipedia say about 2nd August through the years 🏛️📜🗓️?

2nd August 2022 🗓️ : Death - Vin Scully Vin Scully, American sportscaster and game show host (b. 1927) "Vincent Edward Scully (November 29, 1927 – August 2, 2022) was an American sportscaster who was the play-by-play announcer for the Brooklyn / Los Angeles Dodgers, beginning in 1950 and ending in 2016. He is considered by many to be the greatest baseball broadcaster of all time.Scully's tenure with..."

Image licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0? by Unknown authorUnknown author

2nd August 2017 🗓️ : Death - Judith Jones Judith Jones, American literary and cookbook editor (b. 1924) "Judith Jones (née Bailey; March 10, 1924 – August 2, 2017) was an American writer and editor, best known for having rescued The Diary of Anne Frank from the reject pile. Jones also championed Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. She retired as senior editor and vice president at Alfred..."

2nd August 2013 🗓️ : Death - Alla Kushnir Alla Kushnir, Russian–Israeli chess player (b. 1941) "Alla Shulimovna Kushnir (Hebrew: אלה שולימובנה קושניר; Russian: Алла Шулимовна Кушнир; 11 August 1941 – 2 August 2013) was a Soviet-born Israeli chess player. She was awarded the FIDE titles of Woman International Master (WIM) in 1962 and Woman Grandmaster (WGM) in 1976. In 2017, she was inducted..."

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2nd August 1973 🗓️ : Event - Summerland disaster A flash fire killed 50 people at a leisure centre in Douglas, Isle of Man. "The Summerland disaster occurred when a fire spread through the Summerland leisure centre in Douglas on the Isle of Man on the night of 2 August 1973. Fifty people were killed and 80 seriously injured. The scale of the fire has been compared to those seen during the Blitz. ..."

Image licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0? by Stuart Taylor

2nd August 1923 🗓️ : Event - Calvin Coolidge Calvin Coolidge became the 30th president of the United States after Warren G. Harding suffered a fatal heart attack. "Calvin Coolidge (born John Calvin Coolidge Jr.; ; July 4, 1872 – January 5, 1933) was an American attorney and politician who served as the 30th president of the United States from 1923 to 1929. Born in Vermont, Coolidge was a Republican lawyer from New England who climbed the ladder of..."

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2nd August 1823 🗓️ : Death - Lazare Carnot Lazare Carnot, French mathematician, general, and politician, president of the National Convention (b. 1753) "Lazare Nicolas Marguerite Carnot (French pronunciation: ​[lazaʁ nikɔla maʁɡəʁit kaʁno]; 13 May 1753 – 2 August 1823) was a French mathematician, physicist, politician and a leading member of the Committee of Public Safety during the French Revolution. His military reforms, which included the..."

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2nd August 🗓️ : Holiday - Christian feast day: Peter Faber "Peter Faber, SJ (French: Pierre Lefevre or Favre, Latin: Petrus Faver) (13 April 1506 – 1 August 1546) was a Jesuit priest and theologian, who was also a co-founder of the Society of Jesus, along with Ignatius of Loyola and Francis Xavier. Pope Francis announced his canonization in 2013. ..."

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[domme-by-starlight]

University of Mind Control

Part 1.2

a continuation of x

Jenna stared. She’d been prepared for a lot of things, but she had to admit a roommate who looked like a literal succubus hadn’t been on the list. 

Also, she was hot. 

The possibly-a-succubus girl purred, “Hello, roommate.”

“Um,” Jenna responded eloquently, staring at the girl. Her irises were completely black, more like two voids than just dark eyes. Fuck. Fuck this is bad. 

After a moment, the succubus stepped forward. “My name is Morgana Heartbinder. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m - I’m Jenna.” She couldn’t stop staring. I need to break out of this, fast. Must be some kind of magic - it’s way too fast to be natural. 

“Lovely to meet you, Jenna,” Morgana murmured, coming closer and reaching out a hand. Jenna watched, frozen, as it came closer, trying and failing to move away. Her breath was coming faster now, despite her best efforts not to panic. 

Then Morgana’s hand touched her cheek, and burned. Jenna instinctively jerked away, startled, and tried to use the moment to gather some resistance. 

“Shit,” Morgana said. “Are you okay?”

Jenna blinked. In an instant, the girl had transformed from an enthralling demon to a normal-looking, anxious girl. “Um, I’m okay, I was just startled.”

“Are you sure? I forgot how cold most mortals are, I didn’t think, I’m so sorry. Did I burn you at all? I’m sure there’s a healer on staff, we could go find them-”

“No, I’m okay,” Jenna replied hastily. Morgana looked on the verge of panic. “It was just hot, not hurting - at least not for the fraction of a second that you touched me, at least.” She tried to smile reassuringly. “I’m alright, I promise.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Morgana said with obvious relief, but then her face crumpled again. “But- but I’ve fucked it all up now! Father will be so angry, he trained me so long, if I can’t even take my roommate what hope do I have for anyone else? And I was so close, too! No offense,” she added quickly. 

“Uh, none taken. I’m… sure it’ll be okay? Are we expected to take control of other students here?” 

“Well, yeah,” the other girl said as if it were obvious. “It’s mostly temporary, but it gives you important practise. If you’re lucky, you might even get to keep them.”

“Mostly temporary? What does that mean? Uh, also, if it’s okay to ask, what… are you?”

Morgana was still wringing her hands, but she looked calmer, at least. “I’m, I think humans would call me a succubus? And every week one person gets to keep a thrall, based on good classwork and such. Didn’t you learn anything about UMC before you got here?”

“I tried, but it’s not the kind of thing you can just Google. Wait, do you have Google? Are - you’re not from Earth, right? I didn’t miss literal demons hanging around?”

Morgana laughed. “No, all the students are from different universes, I think. If you didn’t know anything about this place, why’d you come?”

“Well, my world doesn’t have any magic, as far as I know. And I just couldn’t turn down that kind of opportunity, honestly.” Jenna didn’t want to mention hypnosis, not yet. Morgana seemed genuine, but there was no harm in being careful. “What about you?”

She grimaced. “My father, mostly. He’s… well, he’s really powerful, and I’m not very good at being a succubus. I think he’s hoping that I’ll somehow become seductive and confident and a proper Heartbinder heir. Who knows, maybe he’s even right.”

“That’s awful,” Jenna said sincerely. “You seem like a lovely person, and I’m sure if you tried you could do really well! But I know what parental pressure can be like.” Jenna didn’t want to dwell on that topic, though. “I should unpack,” she said instead. “We don’t have long till classes start, right? Day after tomorrow?”

“Yeah. First assembly tonight, and tomorrow to explore and make friends. Or slaves. That’s probably why the assembly isn’t for several hours, too - it gives roommates time to figure out their, uh, arrangements.”

Jenna started unlocking her suitcases as they talked. “Will there really already be students under control by the end of the first day? I knew this institution might not exactly be ethical, but still.”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure many of the students are already accomplished mind controllers in their chosen field. It doesn’t last forever, but it’s still a pretty significant advantage to have a thrall this early on.”

“Mm.” Jenna looked up. “Are you planning on trying to control me again?”

Morgana looked torn. “If I don’t enslave my roommate my father will kill me. Sorry, I don’t want to, you seem really nice, I just…”

Welp. “Hm. Could I just pretend to be your slave? Or, like, you technically take control of me but you don’t do anything with it? I just think we could really be friends, and if you control me we’ll never get to find out the proper way.”

“That… might work? And honestly, I’m not very good. I caught you off guard and even then it didn’t work. I just get so nervous that I forget what to say and start shaking and it just never works.” Morgana signed heavily and turned away to start dealing with her own belongings. 

Not good enough. Maybe she’s right, but she nearly had me. Jenna shivered. She really didn’t want to be enslaved, even if Morgana seemed nice. 

She narrowed her eyes in thought. “What if we made some sort of agreement? You can practise on me as much as you like and I’ll help you try to improve, but you only control me during those practise sessions. And maybe vice versa, too? I’d far rather have an ally than spend all year fighting with my own roommate for control.”

She hesitated for a moment, then threw in, “There are plenty of other students, after all, and I’d be happy to help you capture other people if you want.” I can deal with her trying to hold me to that when we get there. Free will first, consequences later. 

“I… you would do that? Honestly?”

“Promise.”

Morgana’s smile was so hopeful that it hurt Jenna’s heart a little. She wanted words with that girl’s father. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Morgana said. “I would love to have someone here I can trust not to be constantly trying to enslave me. To have a… a friend.”

“Then we’re agreed,” Jenna declared, trying not to show her relief. “Friends it is.”

[stickyjjaem]

dirty little secret - just another regret | bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader, ??? x reader genre: uni!au, predebut/idol!au, manager!reader, slow burn chapter warnings: chan is a bit of a prick, that's it i think word count: 960ish

author notes: chapter two! this chapter brings us up to the 'present' more or less. poor y/n is getting baptised by fire, does it get any better? who knows? (me i know heheheheh) enjoy this chapter! feedback is welcome but not obligatory!

taglist: @idunnomanmynamewastaken (send me an ask to be added!)

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It took a long time to get over Chris. You can’t remember how long, but it had to be done. You remember the first time you saw him with a girl in public. It felt like a punch in the guts, he was so reluctant to be seen in even the same area as you, but he was more than happy to be seen flaunting this other woman. You don’t recall a time you’ve run faster than that day. It got easier after that though. You decided Australia was no longer the country for you and chose not to stay after graduating, leaving behind all your friends, and all the memories. That ended up being one of the best decisions of your life. Upon moving home, you found a job almost instantly. Better yet, the company you worked for paid for your return to university, allowing you to pick up a degree in human resource management. You remember your manager mentioning that they had close ties to a large entertainment company in Korea, who had an opportunity arise to work with one of their more popular groups. They recommended you for the role, and following a Zoom interview, you landed the job.

So, here you are. In a foreign city, in a foreign country, on a foreign continent. You had a basic grasp on Korean due to taking the time to start learning prior to moving, but is that enough? Hopes and prayers only do so much, but that’s what you employ when you head into a high-rise building bearing the letters JYP. It’s a clean building, but all that’s on your mind is not saying the wrong thing and insulting the young lady at the reception desk.

“Hello, I am Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here to see Song Minhye.” Your broken Korean seems to work this time. You watch intently as the receptionist quickly types away and instructs you to take a seat. Not long after, a tall woman with a dark bob and killer legs exits the elevators to your left. You stand immediately and bow politely to this woman who you assume to be Minhye, your new boss.

“Hiya! Lovely to finally meet you! I’m Minhye, you must be Y/N? I’d love to chat get to know you more, but your induction is going to be intense, so we do have to keep moving.” Her looks do not match her voice. She’s chirpy, bright, and very excitable. You flash a smile and follow her back into the elevator, as she presses the 8th floor button, and the carriage starts moving. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as you thought, at least one person in this building speaks English.

“So, you just moved here, right? From… where was it? It’s escaping me now, but I know it was a hell of a trek! I hope you aren’t too jetlagged! First things first, meeting the boys!” The elevator stops at the 8th floor, Minhye almost pulling you towards some form of dance room judging by the mirrors. You can vaguely seem some guys around your age in there, some drinking water, some stretching, you’re pretty sure you see a couple of taking selfies like white girls. One of them looks familiar, he’s on his laptop, clicking away at something, but the cap he’s wearing obscures his face a bit.

You don’t have time to ponder on it before Minhye is bursting into the room to a chorus of Korean words you don’t yet understand, tugging you in behind her. You look around and find a group of 7 very sweaty young men, and one man you thought you’d never have to see again. Your mouth goes dry, and you swear you’re about to pass out, but you won’t let anyone know. You were just a fling, something to pass the time and relieve stress. Nothing worth noting.

She starts speaking to them, and you assume she was introducing you to the men in front of you, but you still don’t know what’s going on. In fact, the only part of her monologue you understand is your name.

“Y/N, I need to go grab some things from my office before we keep going, I’ll be back in a sec!” And with that, Minhye’s out the door. You’re stuck in a room of strangers. The floor is rather clean as you rub your hands on the front of your thighs to try gather some courage to introduce yourself. Thankfully, someone else speaks up.

“Hi Y/N! I’m Changbin, nice to meet you!” The shortest of them steps forward and bows before extending his hand to you. You bow back and take his hand, shaking it gently and dropping it.

“I’m Jisung! You can call me Han or Hannie though!”

“I’m Seungmin!”

“My name’s Minho. Welcome!”

“Hey, I’m Felix. Everyone said you spoke English best, if you need help learning Korean let me know!” The Australian accent shocks you, but it’s thicker than you’re used to, and the voice is deeper. A cat-like boy steps forward, you can’t help but smile at the juxtaposition of his voice and appearance.

“Yeah, I do actually! I might take you up on your offer, my Korean’s nowhere near as good as it should be.” You laugh, somehow getting pulled into a bro hug. You ignore the stare burring holes into your back. The other two boys introduce themselves as Hyunjin and Jeongin, and you’re left looking at Chris. You watch as he swallows thickly and gains some composure. It’s impossible to distinguish the look on his face, but he is feeling something other than the nostalgia of seeing someone for the first time in years.

“I’m Bang Chan. Good luck, I doubt you’ll last long.”

[blue-eyed-banshee]

Sylvanas lowered her head as memories came flooding back, the ball when she had first met Jaina to their shared kiss on the balcony in Windrunner Spire and finally.... the last words she whispered as she had her soul torn from her body during the invasion of Quel’thalas.  She took small notice of how less graceful she always got when they were together, she felt the same thing; she was able to be just that.... herself whenever she was near. Her eyes widened in surprise at Jaina reassuring her. In all honesty, she will likely never stop blaming herself that she could have done more for her people.... for Lirath..  That was a name that brought a pang of guilt to her every single time she thought of her little brother, her little lord sun.  How Lirath was leaning against a wall of the balcony with a satisfied smirk when he witnessed them in a moment of bliss on the stone balcony of their home.  ”It would appear I have to tell Lady Sun and Little Moon that I won the bet.” He proclaimed with a musical laugh. “Alleria thought you were too... how do you humans say it?.... ‘chicken’ to make the first move, Lady Moon.”  ”You always look at her like she was belore incarnate!” He said, making his words sound dramatic as he placed a hand on his chest to make his point. “Even Ann’da knew you clearly liked the human mage.” The youngest Windrunner said with a fanged smirk, much like her own.  “Lirath!” She hissed, her ear-tips slightly turning red from embarrassment to which Lirath laughed a belly-aching laugh seeing his sister’s eyes flash which was something she did when she felt intense emotion. Lirath's laughter still sounded like music on the most delicate instrument. The elf wiped a tear from his eye from laughing so hard, his face practically changed slightly in color. “Come now, Sylvanas. It was no secret even though I know you two tried to keep it as such. Just like an open book within the family library, you are very easy to read when it comes to love.”  Sylvans waved a hand to dismiss the thought, “Whatever you do, do not tell Minn’da!” She straightened like she did when she was training new recruits who were inducted into the Farstraiders.  Lirath grinned. "I won't tell Lady Sun and Little Moon or anyone else but... you have to keep her close to your heart, Sylvanas. And I'm sure mother and father expect half-elven children." He smirked as Sylvanas blushed once more. Lirath’s laugh slowly faded as Sylvanas was brought back to the present, to where she lost nearly everything she held dear .. her brother was gone... She didn’t even notice that she was clutching the sapphire necklace which always hung around her neck every day since a horde champion went to her family home or what was left of it to retrieve it for her.  Her reminiscing was interrupted as she felt Jaina’s hand on hers, making her look down for a moment, it was strange to feel the warmth of someone who truly cared for her. The former banshee looked up at Jaina, trying to mask her surprise at her words of sympathy which were the opposite of the glances she got from the horde leaders.

This was true, genuine sympathy. It was something she had yet to get used to, after so long of just being closed off from her emotions, full of vengeance and sadness.  She unconsciously clasped her hand with Jaina’s bringing their intertwined hands up to her lips and she kissed her hand, like a gentleman trying to court a princess. She knew such an action would make the mage even more smitten.. every time she did that. “Jaina.... I never stopped thinking nor loving you since my death at the hands of... ” She couldn't even bring herself to say the name of her murder and tormentor without ruining the moment that they shared, it was like they had just met all those years ago. A time when everything was perfect. The reformed Sylvanas knew people would be passing by and occasionally glancing at them but right now, she didn’t care. She could only focus on how she desperately wanted to pick up where they left off so, so many years ago. Sylvans’ eyes widened as she remember she still had the gift she was going to give her but never got the chance to. “I... had this crafted by a blacksmith in Silvermoon long ago... A champion went back to what s left of Windrunner village and the Spire, in order to retrieve this without my knowledge.”  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pendant. It was silver and adorned with Quel’thalasian and Kul’tirian gems and was blessed by one of the mages and priests within the city, to never rust as well to enable them to be connected emotionally and telepathically when they were apart.

She swallowed nervously. “I- I know this is... an unfortunate really, really late gift but I took it with me before I came here, waiting for the right moment.” She let out a breathless chuckle and just as all those years ago, her ear tips went red.  "I.... wanted to give this to you so long ago and every time I saw you since ... I was reminded that was lost after.... my last stand with...that butcher and how I couldn't give you that happiness of being with someone and experiencing the benefits of marriage" She whispered the last few words, hoping she didn't hear. Her now blue eyes drifted to the ground as she silently tried to find a sliver of strength to say what she had to say next. "I desperately tried to remember you when...." The elf closed her eyes as she couldn't bring herself to say anything regarding her death. "That... man-child tortured me and mocked me at every chance he got, always about you and how you would never want to be with a banshee after killing so many of my people... women and children..." A dark scoff escaped her lips. "I hated him for it... even up until his death. I am just angry that I did not deliver the final killing blow..." She snarled slightly when she said the last bit. "Then.... when I became Warchief and Vol'jin passed, all I could think about was having you by my side. Just know, I did not abandon the alliance on the broken shore. We had to retreat when... it happened..." She didn't realize dust had formed near her eyes.

"I don't want to admit it, I hated the idea of raising your brother from death. But... a small part of me wanted to bring him back to you. I do not know what compelled me to twist his mind, but I want- no, I need your forgiveness.... Lady Proudmoore." She said, fully looking at her with dust falling down her cheeks.

"I so desperately wanted to warn you about... what Garrosh was planning... but his... kim'jael of a commander was watching my every move. I ultimately had no choice but to send Cheiftain Bloodhood in my stead."

She didn't even bother to stop the dust from forming and falling down her face and onto the armor she wore. "I blamed myself every day since and... I knew you would hate me for it." Sylvanas lowered her hood and brushed a hand through her hair as a habit she did in life when she was overwhelmed. Her hair was no longer that blonde-white hair that had earned her the nickname 'Lady Moon' among her siblings. "I understand if you're angry with me, my lady. I hope your people can forgive my acti-"

Sylvanas' ears twitched as Jaiana exhaled shakingly. She listened carefully to the mage's words as if the other woman would change into a creature... She thought before shaking the thought out of her head. "I- when.... died, I swore to myself, to my people; that no one would suffer the same fate." She scoffed at herself before her voice dropped an octave. "But that was a fool's dying thoughts..." She moved over to where she saw a bench, next to the statue of a man who she knew was Jaina’s mentor, she just couldn’t remember his name... “To answer your question, yes I have. It took my death and... Zovaal giving me back what lost, to learn that... Jaina, I was so blind that I didn’t see what he was really planning... just like in the undercity and at Garrosh’s trial, I was betrayed...” Her she closed her eyes, and dust could only fall from her eyes. “You are correct on that.... Lady Proudmoore.” She purred slightly, trying to bring back a happy moment of the past when she visited Quel’thalas... a time before Arthas. “Father would want me to make up for my wrong doings, but know he enjoyed your chats.” She said,turning her head towards the arch mage and she desperately wanted to feel Jaina’s hand in hers, when they watched the sun set at the Spire.  She flashed a fanged smirk, “I still remember what you wore to that ball Kael’thalas held for you. How we had plans for us to go back to Kul’tirias and meet your side of the family But...” She stayed quiet, turning her face away from Jaina, not wanting her to see she was crying or her version of it, at least. “Then.... Arthas happened.” Her voice lowered in that octave again, the voice that she had when she was an angry vengeful banshee.  “That monster took me from you...” She whispered in Thalassian.

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Mature | Biker!Dean/Castiel | Destiel | 5,285

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

Castiel was sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant when Benny slid into the seat across from him. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his rough jeans and flannel amid the midday lunch crowd all in skirts and suits. It took Castiel a moment to pick his jaw up off the table but when he did, he was livid.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Relax buddy I’m just here to deliver a message.”

“You can’t be here. I’m waiting for someone.” Castiel glanced around, noting that a few eyes flicked away, their interest peaked by the rough and tumble man who clearly wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Yeah, yeah I know. Your boyfriend.” Benny rolled his eyes, hooking his elbow over the back of the chair, and gazed around the space. He smiled wolfishly at an old lady who immediately averted her eyes. “You find it ironic that you went from dating a man on one side of the law and then immediately jumped into bed with a guy on the other?”

Castiel grit his teeth. “I did not immediately - Look I didn’t like you when we ran in the same circles so if you’d be so kind as to show yourself to the door.”

“Right back at’cha, sweet cheeks.” Benny grinned. “But the prez sent me on an errand and I gotta complete it.” Benny’s face turned serious as he leaned over the table, lowering his voice.“Some shit’s about to go down.”

Castiel blinked then leaned in as well, his own voice a low rumble. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

Benny snorted. “Look I dunno if your new boyfriend talks shop with you but the Demons aren’t taking too kindly to his new two strikes policy. They put out a hit on him.”

Castiel squinted at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

Benny examined his fingernails. “Figured you’d wanna know.”

Castiel bit his lower lip, thinking. “No. No, you wouldn’t come here-“

Benny sat up straighter in his chair. “You’re right I wouldn’t. But the VP gives an order, I follow it.” Benny leaned closer. 

Castiel clenched his jaw. “Dean sent you.”

Benny lifted his hands and clapped loudly four times, drawing every eye in the room to them. Castiel sunk down in his seat. “Now you’re catching on.” Benny grinned, eyeing Castiel. “So, what is it like fucking the D.A. fresh off bein’ a biker’s old lady?” Benny gestured loosely. “So to speak.”

“You need to leave.” Castiel nodded towards the door. “Now. You have no right to interrupt my lunch-“

“Looks like I was interrupting you being stood up, but okay.”

“-with bullshit. I told Dean to stay out of my life and I meant it. Sending you instead is not a loophole. It’s a waste of your time.”

Benny snorted. “Don’t I know it.” He sucked his teeth. “But say I am right. And your shining beacon of civil obedience does have a price on his head. Would meeting him for lunch right now really be that good of an idea.”

Castiel grit his teeth. “If Dean thinks he can come in and disrupt my-“

“Hello, darling. So sorry I’m late.” A man in a dark suit, impeccably tailored, rushed by, leaning to peck Castiel on the cheek. When his eyes fell on Benny he barely even blinked. “Benny Laffitte, where’s your kutte, it’s not often you see a Man of Mayhem out of uniform unless it’s in my courtroom.”

Benny gave him a wan smile. “Crowley. Just passing on information to your beau here. I’ll be on my way.” Benny stood from his seat, towering over Crowley

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. “What information is that, pray tell?”

Benny grinned down at him. “I ain’t no snitch, Mr. Prosecutor. Ask your boy.” Benny gave Castiel a nod before he swaggered away, a hush following him through the room so that the clang of his hand on the glass door rang out when he exited.

Castiel sat back, chewing his bottom lip as Crowley took his seat, grabbing the napkin on his plate and draping it in his lap. “You want to tell me what that was all about.” Crowley reached for the bottle of water on the table, tipping some into his goblet then topping off Castiel’s.

Castiel brooded for a moment. “Nothing. It was nothing. Just…”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Just?”

Castiel heaved a sigh. “Dean thinks the Demons have a hit out on you.”

Crowley blinked, setting the bottle back down. “Well, it’s a good thing you were never inducted into The Cemetery Boys because you fold like a cheap suit my love.”

“Oh shut up,” Castiel groused, reaching for his water glass but he was smiling by the time it touched his lips. Crowley gave him a smirk. “So… it’s ridiculous right?”

Crowley raised his brows, hooking his elbows on the table and holding one hand in the other. “Oh know they have a bounty on my head.”

Castiel choked on his water. “Wh-what?”

“No need to worry, darling. It’s merely a formality so they look tough for all the other little gangs around town.” Crowley sipped at his water. 

“The MC never put hits out on anyone just to look tough,” Castiel objected, looking horrified and Crowley lifted a brow.

“Oh did they put them out for other reasons?”

Castiel’s eyes went flat. “The Cemetery Boys are a group of motorcycle enthusiasts. The worst thing they’re guilty of is drinking too much on a weeknight.” Castiel scoffed when Crowley smirked.

“Drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, racketeering, sports betting-“

“Alright, alright,” Castiel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked around the room for a moment before glancing back at his boyfriend. “You’re safe though?”

Crowley’s eyes softened, his hand reaching across the table. Castiel took it. “I’m touched. Yes, safe as houses.”

#

When Castiel pulled into his apartment complex that evening after work he couldn’t help but notice the Harley parked across the street from his building. A young man was sitting astride it, eyes on his phone. Castiel slammed the door to his car watching as the young man jumped and met his eyes before he immediately looked down again. Castiel sighed, striding over with purposeful steps.

“Hello, Sam.”

The young man looked up, his shaggy hair hanging in his eyes before he shook it back. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel looked around. “Where’s your brother?”

Sam shifted. “Dunno.”

“He wouldn’t have you here by yourself. Where is he?”

Sam’s face screwed up, indignant. “Hey, I’m a Prospect now!” He twisted so Castiel could get a look at the designation on the back of his leather vest.

Castiel’s brow creased. “I thought you were going to Stanford.”

Sam’s head dipped, fiddling with his phone again. “Nah, I belong here. With my family.”

Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sam, you wanted to be a lawyer.”

Sam shrugged him off. “Yeah well, now I wanna be a Cemetery Boy. What do you care anyway? You left.”

Castiel’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I was with Dean for a long time-“

“Yeah. And you left.”

“-and you know why I left. It’s why you left too.”

Sam leveled his gaze on Castiel. “Yeah. And I came back.” He paused. “It’s not safe for you right now. Crowley’s got a detail but you don’t. He should be protecting you.”

“I don’t need protecting, Sam!” Castiel sighed exasperatedly. “And if I did it wouldn’t be your job to do it. Or Dean’s.”

Sam shifted, his hazel eyes going soft in a way that Castiel knew was going to hit him right in the gut. “You could come back too. You don’t have to pledge-“

Castiel started to laugh. “Yeah, no. I’ve moved on.” Castiel made to turn away. “Tell your brother he should do the same.”

“He has!” Sam called after him, voice petulant. “New girl every night!”

Castiel’s eyes cut over his shoulder at Sam before heading up the stairs to his apartment.

#

The creak of his bedroom door woke Castiel from a dead sleep at 2:13 am. His eyes opened to his alarm clock, fluttered for a moment as his brain cleared. The sound of a hammer locking into place brought everything into sharp perspective and before he even took a breath he’d rolled off the side of the bed, the gunshot booming impossibly loud in the silent room. 

He didn’t have a weapon, had always hated guns, but crouched between his closet and his mattress he would have given anything to have Dean’s pearl-handled .45. He’d give anything to have Dean here. The sound of boots on hardwood thunked closer and Castiel stood abruptly, grabbed a pillow and threw it. 

It hit the intruder in the face and the gun went off again, the flash bringing spots to Castiel’s vision as he rushed the guy, knocking him hard in Castiel’s dresser. The intruder was trying to get the gun up and Castiel grabbed for the lamp, smashing it over the guy’s head as he made a break for the door. Pinballing off the hallway walls he tripped into the living room just as his front door was kicked in.

Dean Winchester charged forward, reaching for Castiel on instinct and shoving him behind him. The intruder emerged from the bedroom, gun outstretched and Dean brought the bat he held up and swung. The sickening crack of a wrist breaking, followed by an inhuman howl of pain turned Castiel’s stomach and he had to hold on to the back of his couch to keep from hitting the floor. Another sickening crack of the bat and the horrid sucking sound of a man trying to pull in a breath his body won’t accept.

“Dean.” Castiel turned his head, immediately snapping his eyes shut when he saw Dean raise the bat over his head but thanks to the sound of it cracking across the intruder’s back, Castiel’s brain unhelpfully provided him with a visual. “Dean! Please!”

Dean froze bat aloft and looked over, finding Castiel hanging on to the back of his couch, legs trembling beneath him. He was sucking in breath through his nose and letting it out of his mouth slowly as if trying not to vomit. Dean dropped the bat.

“‘ey Cas,” Dean grabbed his biceps and immediately pulled him to his chest. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“W-w-who was that. What….what’s happening?”

Dean petted his hair, sucking in a deep breath as Castiel’s arms went around him feebly, Castiel leaning all his weight against Dean. Dean pressed his face to the top of Castiel’s head. “Nothin’ for you to worry about. You’re safe now.”

#

“I want a uniformed officer on this building at all times. No one should come in and out of here without express clearance. Is that clear!?”

Dean and Castiel watched from where they stood leaning against the back of the couch as Crowley continued his rampage. Dean leaned towards Castiel.

“He’s pretty intimidating for a short guy. I’ll admit it.” Dean shrugged and Castiel cut his eyes at him.

“He’s not short. You and your brother are just freakishly tall.”

“He’s shorter than you.”

“I too am taller than average.”

Dean pounced. “Since when do you like average?”

Castiel’s head whipped to look at him. “Since it generally follows the law.”

Dean made a face. “A whole hell of a lot of good it did you tonight.”

“Winchester, what are you even doing here!” It seemed that Crowley’s tirade had finally turned to him and Dean gave him a placid smile.

“Oh just taking care of Cas here. You know. What you should have been doing.”

Castiel raised a hand. “Hey, hey now. This was no one’s fault.”

“Really,” Dean asked, his eyes ablaze as he glanced at Castiel and then lanced Crowley with a heated stare. “Last time I checked, D. A. Douchebag here had a security detail. Why wasn’t he protected, huh?”

“There were no credible threats on-”

“It’s the Demons, Crowley!” Dean shook his head, his face slack in disbelief. “They always make good on their threats. He should have had someone on him from the second you got the intel two days ago.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel looked to Crowley astonished. “Fergus, is he telling the truth? Did you know about this and not tell me?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, looking supremely satisfied as Crowley’s face soured. He looked from Dean to Castiel. “Darling,” Crowley took Castiel’s hands in his, leading him away from Dean. “I would never put you in harm’s way. I’m appalled you’d even think it. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to the intel. I thought…” Crowley pursed his lips. “I thought no one would dare go after you.” His eyes cut to Dean, gaze hateful. “I was wrong.”

“Damn right you were wrong,” Dean accused, pointing a finger at Crowley. “And it almost got him killed.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighed, holding up a hand.

“What? Cas you can’t possibly be giving him a pass on this.” Dean’s voice was indignant.

“Dean you can’t possibly think that he knowingly let this happen.”

“I think something stinks in here and it ain’t the biker,” Dean snapped.

Castiel sighed, reaching for Dean’s shoulder and forcing him to turn towards the door. ‘Thank you. For… for…”

“Saving you,” Dean supplied and Castiel fought the roll of his eyes.

“Yes, thank you for that, but I think the police have it from here.”

Dean glanced over his shoulder and leaned closer into Castiel. “I don’t trust him, Cas. There’s something really fishy about this.”

“You’re paranoid, Dean.”

“It’s not paranoia if you’re right.”

Castiel sighed again, rubbing his forehead. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“You should come to the clubhouse. It’s safe and no one would-“

“Good night, Dean.”

Den pressed his lips together, throwing one last scowl over his shoulder at Crowley before giving Castiel a pleading look that went unanswered. He heaved a sigh and left.

#

Castiel laid awake a long time after Crowley had fallen asleep, listening to his light snores. They’d talked after the police cleared out, Crowley apologizing profusely for not taking the threat more seriously. Something continued to niggle at Castiel, some deep-seated intuition that wouldn’t let him sleep.

Castiel: Dean?

Dean: Yeah, Cas.

Castiel: I wasn’t sure if you still had this number

Dean: Looks like I do.

Dean: Everything okay?

Castiel’s thumbs hovered over the screen as he chewed his bottom lip. 

Castiel: Yeah. Yeah, everything is fine. I’m sorry for bothering you.

Dean: It’s no bother Cas. Message me any time.

Dean: Or call. 

Castiel put his phone back on the bedside table and resettled but sleep didn’t come.

#

Castiel’s unease stayed with him through the morning and well into the next afternoon. Crowley had assured him that the threat on him had been neutralized but agreed to keep a uniform officer on him when Castiel didn’t let up. He couldn’t focus at work, his mind drifting to Crowley and what he was doing, who he was talking to. Was he safe? Was Castiel? By the time evening came, he had a pretty terrible headache and a determination to get some answers.

Rocky’s Bar is a ramshackle establishment off route 6 that Castiel had hoped to never set foot in. The fact that the Cemetery Boys ran nightclubs all over town was a well-known fact as was their reputation for keeping order in these establishments. Castiel just wasn’t much for strip clubs, especially those run by his ex-boyfriend. 

Stepping inside he expected to smell cigar smoke and sex but instead was greeted by a pleasant, feminine scent, sweet and cloying but not overbearing. He spotted Dean immediately behind the bar, grinning at a scantily clad woman as he loaded drinks onto her tray. Castiel stamped down the flare of jealousy in his gut.

Dean was watching the show now, eyes on the girl spinning on the pole as he wiped down glasses behind the bar. Castiel sidled up and it took Dean a minute to look at him. When he did he dropped the glass he’d been wiping so that it shattered on the floor. 

“Shit!” Dean hopped back to avoid glass spraying over the toes of his boots. “Cas? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I need answers.”

Dean had moved down the bar going for a broom that was tucked in a corner. He paused, looking back over his shoulder at Castiel. His jaw tightened as he turned away again, snatching the broom and coming back over to sweep up his mess.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“I did,” Castiel said, pausing to watch Dean methodically push glass into the dustpan. “Now I’m asking you.”

“What’d he tell you?” Dean set the broom and dustpan aside, crossing his arms over his chest and Castiel was not at all distracted by the flex of his biceps and the way his shirt stretched around his muscles. He wasn’t wearing his kutte, just a black v-neck and jeans.

“That I was safe. That the threat had been neutralized.”

Dean’s eyes widened just the slightest bit before his face went dangerously blank. He turned his head, looking down the bar, and then returned his gaze to the stage. Castiel huffed, annoyed, and stepped into his line of sight.

“Do you ever get tired of looking at tits?”

Dean snorted. “Absolutely not.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned to stomp off. “Never mind. I don’t even know why I bothered to come here.”

Dean was out from behind the bar in a microsecond, reaching for Castiel’s arm before worming in front of him, blocking his exit. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You want answers? I’ll give them to you. Just… “ Dean looked around and his eyes landed on something over Castiel's shoulder. He cocked his head back and Castiel glanced back to see Benny dutifully pulling himself up from an armchair and making his way over. He begrudgingly took Dean’s place behind the bar.

Upstairs in the office, Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. It was a tiny space, just big enough for the large desk and a few filing cabinets. Dean wormed his way behind the desk and Castiel forced himself into the small armchair across from him. There were posters of half-naked women on the walls and Castiel was once again struck with an extreme sense of inadequacy. Dean loved women, but Castiel knew Dean has also loved him.

“So you wanna hear word on the street or just straight facts?” Dean was pulling out a bottle of whiskey from one of the drawers along with two mugs. One of them was the one Castiel got him for Christmas two years ago that said “Send Noods” with a bowl of Ramen noodles. 

“Let's start with facts,” Castiel said showing Dean his palm, declining the drink. Dean shrugged and poured himself one.

“The fact is that the Demons are going after Crowley and the people close to him.” Dean picked up his mug. “You.” He sipped. “They’re using out of towners, seasoned guys not prospects.” Dean’s eyes leveled on Castiel. “That makes it a serious threat.”

“Why?” Castiel asked, shifting in his seat.

“Prospects are idiots,” Dean waved a hand then pursed his lips. “My brother excluded.” Dean shook his head. “You don’t give important jobs to prospects. They’re meant for grunt work and low-level intimidation. That guy I clubbed in your apartment was a Nomad - an out-of-state-er, no home club. Meant to blow in and out of town, generally used for serious shit they don’t want traced back to the local club.”

“O-kay.”

Dean sighed, seemingly annoyed that Castiel wasn’t understanding something. “These guys are one step down from trained assassins, Cas. It was a serious threat.”

“Why would Crowley lie to me?” Castiel burst out and Dean downed the rest of his drink.

“I dunno, Cas. Why do you think?”

Castiel bristled. “Oh, I guess you have an opinion?”

Dean gave him a smarmy grin. “Oh, I have several.”

“This is stupid.” Castiel threw his hands in the air. “I shouldn’t have come here.” 

Castiel made to leave but Dean stood, gripping his wrist and refusing to let go. “Cas, wait. Come on. This is serious okay? I assume he put a uni on you?”

“Yeah but I ditched him,” Castiel settled back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean rubbed his face hard. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want Crowley to know I came to you, Dean. Why do you think?” Castiel scoffed shaking his head and Dean set his jaw.

“What he got a problem with me or something?”

Castiel gave him a deadpan stare the lifted a finger, counting off each, “Drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, racketeering-“

Dean hissed waving his hands at Castiel. “Alright alright, enough.” Dean sighed. “Word on the street is that Alaistair put the hit out because your boyfriend,” Dean looked disgusted as he said it, “is trying to go maximum sentence when he’s only at two strikes.”

“Didn’t Alaistair maim and torture two immigrant women?”

“Yeah, but they were stealing his coke when they were supposed to be muling it.”

Castiel blinked. “So he tortured and maimed them?”

Dean gave a shrug.

Castiel felt his stomach go cold. “Do you do that?”

Dean gave a shrug then smiled. “We don’t run drugs, Cas. We’re just a group of motorcycle enthusiasts.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “That’s it? That’s all the information you have?”

Dean shifted in his seat. “There’s some other things. In-fighting and some club shit you don’t need to know but it’s not relevant to you or your safety.”

“But it’s about Crowley?”

Dean gave a short nod.

“What is it?”

Dean reached up to rub his chin, the scratch of his stubble barely heard over the thumping bass in the club below. “He’s paying off some officers on the force.”

Castiel’s brow crinkled. “What? Why?”

Dean shrugged. “No idea.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Okay so I have some idea but it’s just a gut feeling. And you only wanted facts.”

Castiel frowned. “Tell me.”

“He’s going to make a bid for mayor right?”

Castiel blinked. “Uh… yeah he’s been thinking about- how did you-?”

Dean waved a hand. “Guys like him only want power. And he’ll do anything to get it. He’s set all his pieces on the board. Stellar win record in court, charitable donations to all the right charities…” Dean eyed Castiel. “Wholesome, attractive man on his arm.” Castiel fought a blush, looking at his lap. “But he needs an edge.”

“What kind of edge.”

Dean tilted his head. “That I don’t know.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Are you going to continue to have someone in the club tail me?”

“Do you want me to have someone in the club tailing you?” Castiel hesitated. “I’ll keep Sam on you.”

# 

Castiel was driving home from the club when his car was sideswiped by a large panel van. Dazed and dizzy he could barely process that he was being dragged from the car. A man smelling of whiskey and day-old sweat pulled him up before punching him solidly in the jaw. Castiel’s ears rang as something solid ran into his assailant, knocking Castiel out of his grasp and Castiel fell back against the fender of his car, trying to focus.

The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed down the empty highway. Castiel heard a shout and someone scuffling before two meaty hands gripped the lapels of his trench coat and began to drag him towards the back of the van. Castiel began to struggle, eyes trying to focus and he saw Sam Winchester fighting against two men in black hoodies and face masks, his wide reach the only thing keeping him up in that fight. 

A twin engine sounded in the distance and Castiel felt his heart clench, struggling harder as two sets of hands tried to haul him up into the back of the van. He could barely see, the old two-lane road unlit except for the headlight of the bike as it drew nearer and the broken headlights of the van crunched into the side of his car. Castiel’s feet were leaving the ground as he was lifted bodily and he yelled out despite himself. 

“No! Let me go! Get off me! Help! Help!”

“Get off him you son of a bitch!” Dean’s voice rang out in the silent night, the motor on his bike dying as he skidded to a halt and let it drop to the ground as he vaulted off of it. He fired off a round into the air, everyone around him cringing down and looking his way. 

“Shit, Dean Winchester,” one of them muttered, dropping Castiel immediately and it was enough for Castiel to break free.

Without thinking he ran towards Dean, throwing his body at him and Dean accepted him with open arms, cocooning him in a tight embrace. Castiel clutched him close, fear pumping through his veins, heart galloping so hard in his chest he felt sick from it. He heard boots on gravel and one of Dean’s arms shot out, pointing the gun at the man who tried to approach.

“Stay out of this Winchester.”

The gun fired and Castiel gave a small cry, pressing his face hard into Dean’s shoulder trying to block out the distinct sound of a body hitting the pavement. 

“Anyone else got something to say?!” Dean shouted, his other arm still wrapped tight around Castiel. “You.” Dean gestured with the gun. “Tell Alaistair he comes near Castiel Novak again, he’ll be shitting his own teeth for a week.”

A high laugh bubbled from behind Castiel and he gripped Dean tighter at the icy sound. “We don’t work for Alaistair. Don’t you know, Winchester? There’s a new God in town and he’s playing for keeps.”

The gun went off again and someone howled in pain. “I’m not much for riddles,” Dean spit. 

“Dean…”

“Shut up, Cas.”

Castiel shut up, keeping his chin tucked over Dean’s shoulder.

“He calls himself Lucifer,” A trembling voice hissed. “He’s working with the prosecutor.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. He felt Dean swallow hard.

“How?” Dean’s voice was more a command than a question.

“To take over the Demons. Alaistair goes down and he’s the new leader. Anyone who stands against him dies.”

“What’s in it for Crowley?” Dean demanded.

“Mayor,” Sam chimed in, his voice astonished. “He puts Alasiatr away, the infighting stops and there’s peace on the streets again.”

“What does this have to do with Cas?” Dean redoubled his grip and Castiel tried to keep himself from trembling. Silence. Another gunshot, this time followed by rapid-fire speech.

“Jesus! Okay, okay! He wants him dead.”

“Lucifer? Why?” Dean asked.

“No, Dean,” Sam replied and Castiel knew before Sam even said it. “Crowley.”

“What?” Dean’s voice was astonished, his gun lowering a bit and Castiel merely closed his eyes, turning his face into Dean’s neck.

“You said it yourself. He needs an edge,” Sam’s voice was almost giddy with understanding. “What’s better than a dead husband?”

Dean’s entire body stiffened. “They aren’t married.”

Castiel curled in more, his throat feeling as if it might burst. “Not yet. I found the ring. He was going to ask soon.”

Dean growled softly. “Alright, you and you, listen up. Anyone comes near Castiel Novak and they’ll deal with the Cemetery Boys. You want a war you fucking got one. Now get your friend out of here before he bleeds out on the side of the road. Sammy, call a tow and wait with the car. Cas,” Dean’s voice softened as he turned his head, nose brushing in Castiel’s hair. “You’re with me.”

Castiel didn’t object.

#

Castiel wasn’t fully cognizant of anything that was happening to him until he found himself being helped into a pair of Dean’s sweat pants in the room above the clubhouse. Dean had practically carried him up the stairs, sat him on a chair, and chattered at him about anything and everything while he went about putting clean sheets on the bed. 

Castiel shivered as Dean guided his arms through an old club t-shirt, one that Castiel used to sleep in when he and Dean had been together. Why had he ever left Dean? He’d been so mad for so long he couldn’t even remember why anymore. And given the night’s events, he was sure it was small and insignificant in comparison to everything he’d done for Castiel tonight.

“Dean.” Castiel reached for his hip and Dean placed his hands on Castiel’s biceps, steadying him.

“You need to get some sleep. You’re dead on your feet.”

Castiel acquiesced though reluctantly as Dean guided him over to the bed. The mattress was lumpy but the linens smelled like fresh laundry and Castiel curled up as Dean tucked him in. Castiel caught his wrist when Dean made to move away.

“Stay. Please.”

Dean swallowed hard. “Cas, I-“

“I just want you to hold me.” Castiel knew he’d likely feel shame later but right now all he wanted was comfort. “Please.”

Dean was perilous to stop himself, toeing out of his boots and letting his jeans fall to the floor. He shrugged out of his kutte, hanging it on the arm of the chair before tossing his flannel aside and slid between cool sheets next to Castiel. Dean chuckled as he was immediately enveloped, Castiel latching onto him like an octopus, and god, how he’d missed this.

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured into his chest and Dean shivered at his warm breath on the bare skin of his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen. Dean. I’m sorry.” He was starting to hyperventilate and Dean held him tighter.

“Shhh, calm down, Cas. It’s okay. You were just… It doesn’t matter. I forgive you okay. Don’t freak out, just breathe.”

“How could I be so stupid?” Castiel panted, his eyes squeezing shut. “How could I not see it?”

“Well Crowley is a slimy, lying son of a bitch and you’re… well… you trust people too easy, Cas.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you do. It’s something I love about you but only when I’m around to look out for you.”

“I never should have left.” Silence stretched. “Dean?”

“I’m not gonna argue with you.”

Castiel couldn’t help it, he huffed a laugh. “You’re an asshole.” They were silent for a moment. “What do we do now?”

“Well, I got some lube in the drawer over th- OW!” Dean winced as Castiel pinched his nipple hard. “Easy on the goods.”

“I meant about Crowley.”

“Oh, you should definitely break up with him,” Dean nuzzled his nose into Castiel’s hair and received another, less severe, nipple tweak. 

“We can’t go to the police.”

“Nope.”

“So what do we do.”

“We’ve got church tomorrow. I’ll bring it up.”

Castiel sat up, gazing down at Dean. “You’re gonna get the club involved?”

“Honey, we’re already involved. You fuck with one of us you fuck with all of us. They hurt you. They’re lucky I only blew out their knee caps and not their skulls.”

Castiel’s eyes snapped shut. “Jesus, Dean please don’t kill anyone.”

“Aw, Cas you’re no fun.”

“This isn’t funny!”

Dean’s face turned sober. “I know. I’m sorry, I know it isn’t. Look, we can’t do anything tonight, but I promise you, you’re safe here. YOu’re safe with me.” Dean rested his forehead against Castiel’s. 

“And we’ll just… figure out the rest?” Castiel gazed up at Dean, taking in the dusting of freckles across his nose. A small smile pulled at Dean’s lips.

“Yeah. We’ll make it up as we go.”

[katsukikitten]

Part 5

For once in your life, your eyes slowly open, only having been disturbed by warm morning sunlight. The soft comforter trapping your body heat and essentially you, as it pinned you to the soft mattress. You snuggle deeper into the sheets, breathing in the smell of clean linen and caramel.

Wait. Caramel?

With a jolt you jump from the bed, eyes wide as you look for the source of the scent. Patting down your jeans and shirt for at least one knife. You hardly remember what happened after dinner with his family. You remember booze, light conversation while feeling warm and floaty. Oh shit what was that passive that activated again? Rest assured?

"Info on rest assured." You grumble, voice soft from disuse. Your quirk happily pulls up a little informational box that you can see. Too sleepy to make the box private as it reads aloud to you.

"PASSIVE BUFF REST ASSURED. A newly unlocked buff that increases sleep quality and can only be activated around trusted individuals and safe places. Would you like a list?"

You stare at the question box with a flashing yes or no before you point with the tip of your knife to yes.

"Currently there is only one thing listed. Type : Individual Name: Bakugou Ka…."

"Oi." Someone calls from the front door of the apartment as you dismiss the information with a wave of your hand. He discards his boots at the door before making his way to his bedroom.

"You talking to yourself dumbass?" He says, blocking your only exit by leaning on the door jamb. He holds an iced coffee towards you, his eyes sharp as he adds.

"We need to talk about your file."

Crossing his arms you ignore his offer of iced appeasement, he sets it on the low dresser as you speak.

"It's not up for discussion."

"I'm your boss, I deserve to know."

"What you deserve to know is what's in that file. My whole life doesn't fit into a manila fucking folder. Quit asking questions."

"I'll ask what I want." He growls, "Because it's suspicious that you have this unbelievably complex quirk and yet I'm sure your top skills have nothing to do with stealing."

"If you're that concerned then ask the director of the program. I'm not the only secret 'reform'." You throw your hands into the air is exasperation

"He showed up dead shortly after you were inducted. Plus no one has any real record of what you've done. Not a single thing listed on what you've stolen."

"Talk to Deku then, he's next in line for that program, he ain't dead."

"He said he doesn't remember approving your file." He bites back and before you can retort strong fingers wrap around your wrist. His calloused pads brush over the cool metal of your bracelet.

"RECOGNIZED, BAKUGOU KATSUKI : NEW LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. 1. Health and Condition status, upon request 2. Top five skills 3. Buffs that would benefit Bakugou Katuski. 4. Pending buffs to be activated by host. Please state a number."

"Two." "Cancel!" You try to shout over him but he beats you to it. The bracelet opens up a little box displaying your top five skills as of late.

"Stab resistance, poison resistance, what would a thief need those for? Stealth is number three and slight of hand is number five. Shit don't add up Princess." He glares while your nostrils flare, ripping your wrist away from his grip.

"You're really fucking pushing it…" He takes a step towards you while you step back as if it were part of a dance as you try so hard to keep your wrath in check.

"Am I? Like I said, shit ain't adding up. You have this bracelet that still has limited information to your quirk, support knows nothing of the recordings or god damn blocks you've placed on it and lastly…" Your knees hit the back of the back of the bed causing you to sit on the mattress. His rough palms come to lie flat against the fabric next to your thighs as he leans in. You fight to shrink back.

"Lastly, I deserve to know how an unnamed woman, who obviously knew you, turns up dead moments after I arrive on scene and then her body is gone in a matter of minutes. She poisoned you with a complex concoction that the lab in the agency has yet to figure out the formula to it and yet you knew the fucking antidote? What did you really do?"

Rage boils in your blood as you stare into his vermilion eyes. Like flipping a switch you turn ice cold, your breath mingles with his.

PASSIVE BUFF SHARP TONGUE ACTIVATED INSULTS DEALT WILL HAVE 39% MORE STING.

"You know what's funny? You don't see me asking how you became a manager with your shitty attitude. Nor do you see me asking how you manipulated and gaslit your way to the number one spot." You press your cheek against his as your lips graze his ear, "And you sure as hell don't see me asking how you're considered a hero at all after you told Izuku to kill himself in middle school."

The scars in his chest and stomach roar to life, demanding attention as his shirt scrapes against the sensitive skin. He takes a step back as if struck while the room begins to smell of smokey spiced caramel. His bones groan as his knuckles bloom white.

You smile as you stand, collecting your bag and the jacket he lent. Even grabbing the iced coffee he got you. Because why let it go to waste?

Cruelty slips onto your shoulders as nicely as his borrowed jacket while you pause at his bedroom door wanting nothing more than to leave him with terrible thoughts.

"Did you ever even apologize for that?"

Silence is your answer as you chuckle to yourself.

"Didn't think so."

You leave him with those nasty thoughts. Long gone as he still pants, pain shooting through his gut and lungs as it did all those fucking years ago.

As he moved without a second thought and placed himself in front of a stupid, dopey mop top boy who tried to hold up the weight of the world by himself.

With a guttural growl he looks over his destroyed room, as if a bomb went off.

He reaches for his phone dialing the number he never bothered to save.

"Meet me at our usual when you get off your stupid fucking shift. I know you've forgotten to eat you useless hero." The other line chimes in with a deep laugh as he adds.

"Okay Kaachan. I'll be there."

Izuku doesn't get invited out often and especially not by Bakugou. So the emerald haired boy decides to keep an eye on his oldest friend. Silently watching and not glancing too long as hot head huffs and puffs, taking another shot. The ash blonde's favorite spicy ramen goes untouched as the large man across from him slurps up his fourth bowl, covered in sweat and dirt from the day's work.

"You better get my fucking money's worth of this endless ramen bowl shit." He bites, slamming down another shot, fingers subconsciously finding the old scar on his chest. The action does not go unnoticed by his more docile friend. Izuku thanks the waiter as he starts on his fifth bowl.

"I'm starting to think you're mad about more than the endless ramen you ordered me." Bright emerald meet dark garnet eyes that glare, Bakugou's cheeks burn in his buzz.

"Fuck you. Nothin's wrong." Another deadly shot.

"That's your seventh. Kaachan you can't fool me. Your body language gives it away." Bakugou follows Izuku's eyes to his fingers. Quickly he removes his calloused pads from the divot. Angrily staring at the wall like a child who's been caught.

"Fuck you." He murmurs, silence settles over the pair in the far back corner of the restaurant. Bakugou's eyes glance over to Izuku who continues to eat, crimson bore into the scars on his arms from where the dumbass had broken them time and time again. His scars burn with your words, with the memory of what he's said in the past.

Too cruel and for what?

"You know I'm-" Bakugou starts but Izuku holds up a hand, wanting to spare his friend.

"I know, you've shown me everyday, even before you jumped in front of me, Kaachan. I've always known." He leaves it at that, in his heart he knows that Bakugou is sorry. He's seen it in every action since their first year at UA, he doesn't need to hear him say it.

What good are words when actions spoke louder?

"So what's bothering you? Worried over someone? You're dating Rogue now right?" Izuku asks, holding his chopsticks at a point while Bakugou takes another shot.

"Her file is what's bothering me. Deku, she doesn't have a fucking thing of her past. Not to mention you don't even remember signing off on her. Real responsible." Bakugou watches with a dull snarl as Izuku goes back to slurping his noodles.

"Ka...Kaachan." Izuku chokes, "Not fair. They put a lot of your desk too and I bet you don't remember half of it."

"I'd remember something like that. Just makes it that much more suspicious. Probably foraged by someone but the question is who…." Katsuki sets his head in his hand, staring at his orange broth.

"Well, did you ask her yourself?" Bakugou scoffs in response.

"Yea, and it didn't fucking turn out well." His finger finds his stomach this time, the ghastly white crater suddenly irritated by the fabric of his shirt. Izuku stops eating, he isn't stupid and easily connects the dots. The soft man thinks back a decade of his friend is the worst condition but more worried about him.

"Kaachan…" Deep jade eyes water a bit but Bakugou puts up a hand

"Don't." He barks, sighing.

"So you must really care about her if whatever she said affected you that much. You weren't even bothered when they were trying to 'cancel' you." Izuku taps Bakugou's bowl with his chopsticks, silently begging the blonde to eat. Hopping he'll take at least a bite to soak up some of that alcohol. Reluctantly deadly fingers pick up the sticks, gathering ramen between them but still undecided if he should eat.

His silence is answer enough for Izuku.

"I know my agency started the program. I'll look into it some more tomorrow. I'll be mostly office duty since I have so much paperwork anyway. But even if her past is dark Katsuki, what are you going to do? She may not have had any say in the matter, she doesn't give me that evil vibe."

Bakugou thinks back to you. How you fight, how you hold yourself.

How cute you were sleeping on his shoulder before he eased you onto his lap. How softly you snored in his bed. His stomach twists, Izuku's words and yours floating around his head.

"I guess I'll decide once I have more answers." With that the blonde decides to bring the spicy noodles to his lips.

[moonlit-ocs]

Sidekicks Partners

The Story of Young Justice’s Leila al Ghūl

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

—————

HALL OF JUSTICE

December 31, 21:49 EST

2008

This year had come to a close as the Justice League and affiliates privately celebrated. Since the last update, over a year and a half has passed, which were fairly eventful to say the least. Leila had met the Justice League some years back, but let’s just say they had mixed feelings about her being inducted into vigilantism. Some got it, some didn’t. But Green Arrow was able to come around after he recruited his own young partner.

Green Arrow wasn’t the only one with a partner in crimefighting. Aquaman recruited a young boy, a warrior, from his kingdom earlier that year, Kaldur’ahm, AKA Aqualad. Then the Flash recruited his own nephew as Kid Flash, a rambunctious geek with a need for speed before he even got his powers. Also a fast friend of the Batkids, Robin and Demonspawn. But Kid Flash was fixated on Leila, absolutely obsessed.

“Hey, babe.” He jumped into the seat next to the girl in her civilian clothes and sunglasses. Indoors. She wasn’t a fan of the idea, but Bruce was very adamant on her and Robin keeping their identities secret, even from the League. “Sunglasses inside at night? That some kind of fashion statement?”

“Do you know who I am?” Leila responded while she took a sip of her can of soda and peered around the room for her brother.

“You’re Batman’s partner, the Devilish Demonspawn!” He mocked with hands raised and she cracked a smirk that he was quite proud of causing. “So, yeah, maybe I was asking an obvious question. Just wanted to start a conversation with you.”

“Yeah?” Leila looked over at him and set her drink down, curling up in the chair to fully face him. “Why’s that?”

“You’re sitting here all alone and it’s a New Year’s Eve party and that’s lame.” Kid Flash told her flat out. “Come on! You should socialize a little bit!”

“I socialize enough at school.” Lei thwarted his attempts for whatever he was playing at, but Kid Flash wouldn’t give up so easily. Sure, he was concerned for the girl’s New Year, but he was also a bit of a rising player who saw the prettiest girl in the room (the only one his age) and jumped at the chance.

“Yeah, but how often do you socialize with people who know what you really do? Huh? Besides Robin.” Lei didn’t answer him, he seemed like he already knew. “That’s what I thought. So, come on, come hang out with Aqualad and Speedy, you can flex your seniority. How long have you been in the life, again?” She never told him, actually.

“My whole life.” Leila sighed and confused the boy. Really, he had no idea what she meant. “I mean, I’ve been with Batman for almost four years.”

“Four years? Dude, I’ve only been Kid Flash for a few months.” He told the detective’s daughter.

“I’m aware.” Leila responded.

“Right, you Bats keep tabs on everyone.” Kid sped away a moment and came back with a restock on your drink. “Oh, by the way, the name’s Wally. And you are?”

“Nice try.” You grabbed the can from his hand and popped it open. “You can call me ‘Dee’ as opposed to ‘Demonspawn.’ It’s nice to meet you, Wally.”

“Darn, so close.” He slapped his knee and leaned back in the chair. “You know, you seem really, really cool and down to do something fun, are you game?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Lei genuinely answered, a bit concerned with what he was implying.

“Okay, so I’m thinking we sneak out of the Hall for a little bit—not too long, but just long enough to explore D.C.?” Wally proposed, waiting to get to the best part. “And I’ll speed you around with me.” That poker-face she had, it was hard to read, but who wouldn’t want to jump at the chance of a speedster zipping them around. Even Leila was intrigued by the offer.

“Sneaking out off the Hall would be difficult considering my mentor is literally Batman.” Leila added, but Wally scoffed at the comment.

“Psh, don’t worry, babe! Batman’s a bit preoccupied with the League right now, we’ll be fine.” Wally assured and she cracked, Leila wanted to do this, and this Wally was charming enough for her to be on board this quick. He was trustworthy, being the Flash’s partner and all.

“Okay, I’m in.” The words made Wally’s jaw drop, he just convinced a Batkid to do something they probably weren’t supposed to do.

“Alright, rebel, let’s go.” He grabbed Demonspawn’s hand and dragged her away, out the exit, and into the cool, fresh air. “You sure you’re not cold? I could get you a jacket?”

“I don’t get cold.” Lei smirked and he nodded.

“Me neither. So, you ready?” Wally asked, extending his arms to lift the girl up. “I’ll be carrying you, if that’s alright.” She complied, letting him scoop her off the ground and immediately falling off balance, dropping Lei on top of him. Embarrassing. “Sorry! Sorry, not used to picking people up yet! Flash usually does it.” He thought she’d be angry, but she had resorted to full-blown laughter. Definitely embarrassing for Wally as she crawled off of him and stood back up, covering her mouth and offering to help him back up.

“It’s fine, really. You wanna try that again, Kid?” He took Lei’s hand and dusted himself off, she could see him blushing hard. “Honestly, Wally, this is the hardest I’ve laughed in a while. Since I got a whiff of Joker’s laughing gas. Not a pretty week.”

“Okay, okay. I’m ready this time.” He assured. “Wait! Need my goggles.” Wally fished the red pair from his pocket and slid them over his own red hair and green eyes. “Okay, now I’m ready.” He lifted Leila up, giving himself a moment to balance out. “You ready, Dee? Hold on tight.” She heeded his warning and wrapped her arms around Wally’s neck and shoulders, tucking her head in to make sure she didn’t get whiplash. Just like that, he took off and brought her all the way to the Washington Monument, their first tourist destination. “You good? Not too fast, was it? Do you need a bucket to puke?” Wally set the girl down and she shook her head.

“No, that was great!” She really felt free in those few moments, beaming at Wally the first chance she got, but his face dropped as soon as he saw her. “What? What is it?” Leila touched her face and immediately realized her sunglasses were absent from her face. “Oh, man.”

“I was really missing out not seeing your eyes. Wow…you are gorgeous.” Wally told the girl who was panicking a bit on the inside. “Don’t worry, you can trust me. I mean, I’ve only seen your face, right? No big deal.” He tried to assure her, but she was still a little hung up on the compliment he’d given her.

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. Batman’s gonna kill me, though. Not a word of this to him.” She warned Wally with a finger to his chest. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” He teased and sped away, retracing his steps and reappearing in front of her. “Here’s those glasses. A little scuffed up, sorry about that.”

“Thanks, it’s not your fault, though. I should have remembered the laws of aerodynamics.” She put the sunglasses back on her face, shielding her eyes from the dull moonlight.

“Hey, why don’t you lose the sunglasses for now? I mean, I’ve already seen your face, so there’s no use in the tacky accessories, right?” Wally suggested that she cut back a little, something that just wasn’t her style, but she was already having one of the best nights of her life. Because of the Kid Flash. Kid was on a roll and this bit? This was a step in the right direction. Real childish behavior missing in her life. So she took them off and stuffed them in her pocket. “Yesss, I can keep looking at your face! You know, now I could pick you out in a lineup. You better hope I don’t get called into a police station to identify the vigilante, Demonspawn!”

“Leila.” She spoke quietly.

“Huh?” Wally furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head.

“My name. It’s Leila.” She said again and Wally’s grin spread cheek to cheek.

“Woah, you must really trust me. Either that, or you’re a really bad Batkid.” Wally chuckled and repeated her name a few times. “Leila…Leila…Leila…”

“It’s just my first name, and I have like, seven aliases. Just keep it to yourself, Kid. You swear?” Leila rationalized the decision she just made.

“I swear. I can keep a secret, I do it all the time!” Wally assured and before he could make any more comments, Leila was beeped in on the comm devices.

“Demonspawn, where are you?” Batman’s voice invaded her earpiece.

“I’m just outside getting some fresh air.” She replied.

“Really? Because it looks to me like you revealed your face to Kid Flash.” He didn’t seem to be very happy about that.

“Ooh, busted.” Wally commented and she punched him in the arm.

“Just get back to the Hall, it’s almost midnight.” Batman ended the brief conversation and Leila side eyed her new friend, starting to laugh again.

“It’s almost midnight, huh?” Wally winked and scooped Leila up one more time. “Hold on, Leila.” With a blink of an eye, they were out front off the Hall of Justice once more and she equipped her sunglasses once again, getting a “look” from Wally.

“What? They have really harsh lighting inside.” She jokingly defended, checking the time on her phone. “Three minutes to midnight. Not a bad adventure.”

“We’ll have more.” He pat her on the shoulder as they walked inside.

“Think so?” She asked.

“We better!” Wally exclaimed and easily sent her to laughter again.

“Okay, shut up for a minute, Batman might need to give me a dirty look.” Leila caught sight of her dad immediately and waved, seeing him smirk at her when she walked in. “I don’t like that, that’s unsettling.”

“Is he drunk? Is that why he’s doing that?” Wally asked, thinking Batman was gonna “take care” of him for learning Leila’s identity.

“Batman doesn’t get drunk, Wally.” She pulled him into the crowd of other superheroes, ones she absolutely loved so far. Just a month ago, a ton of new people were inducted into the League. Black Canary, Zatara, Captain Marvel, Captain Atom, a new Green Lantern, and Red Tornado. Now they were your human (or robot) shields for the end of this year. Not long after, the countdown started to 2009.

“So, uh, I don’t know if this is too soon or anything, but I was wondering if maybe you’d be my New Year’s kiss? It’s cool if you say ‘no,’ I’ll have more chances in the future. You can count on that, babe.” Wally winked and she rolled her eyes behind the dark lenses. “I know you just rolled your eyes, Dee.”

“Ten, nine, eight…” the countdown continued with people calling the numbers out loud. She looked away from him, making him think that was a solid “no.” “…three, two, one, Happy New Year!” Leila turned to Wally and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Woah, wait! I wasn’t ready yet, I want a do-over!” Wally protested to her, completely flustered.

“Well, you said you’d have more chances, right?” She teased him back for once and pat him on the back. “It was great meeting the real you, Kid Flash.”

“You, too, Demonspawn. Sick name, by the way.” Wally kissed her on the cheek and sped off to his mentor. The Justice League wouldn’t be sticking around to mingle much longer, it was time to vacate the area. Lei made her way back to Bruce and awkwardly greeted him.

“Have fun?” Batman gruffly asked her as the made their way to a Zeta tube.

“I did.” She turned around and waved goodbye to her fellow “sidekicks” who she barely interacted with all night. Oh, well. She’d see them again.

“Good.” A genuine answer came from Batman. The secret identity reveal wasn’t his favorite choice she’d made, but he wanted to trust her judgement. And seeing his daughter happy like this might have softened him up a bit. “We’ll talk about your little ‘adventure’ later.”

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