#not only do they kick you out of the program but they BAR YOU FROM REAPPLYING

[petz5]

i might go apeshit if i think abt school too long but other than that i'm normal 👍

[theealbatross]

a habit to kick, an age old curse (s.s)

Plot | They're no longer friends unfortunately they're still soulmates.

or, you and Sebastian are now strangers but at your most vulnerable moment he picks up the pieces. Only he knows. Only he can.

Tags | angst, heartbreak, when you're too depressed to confess, sebastian and the bad bitch he pulled by being stupid, sebastian is an academic weapon if he wants to, mentions of fire torture, murder (self-defense), trauma, emotional cheating (if u squint), slight fluff as a treat, panic attack, PTSD, Anne is dead, 3k-ish of angst

[A/N: Stream 'i love you, i'm sorry' by gracie for full immersion.]

Quidditch Season was important for every student in Hogwarts but it was the after-parties that everyone was truly looking forward to, house pride aside. 

Which is what exactly Garreth had been barred from. “I can’t believe I wasn’t given an invitation just cause I’m friends with you! I’m not even a Slytherin! And I make the best punches!”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, sighing. Even he didn’t think those pesky Ravenclaws would take their competition this seriously. It all started when he had finally decided to become an auror, after a peaceful, distraction-free year and careful deliberations from each of his professors, he was given the informal encouragement that he was one of the few students who had the potential to become a trainee to such a prestigious program. With his ever-growing physique and indisputable intellect, it would simply be a question of effort.

He just needed to be at the top of all the classes required of him. This was the tragic news for all those Ravenclaw dreams – once Sebastian had his sights on it, it was as good as his.

He hadn’t expected that their ire of him extended to his friends. Even refusing to invite them to the first party of the year that the Ravenclaw had won against the Hufflepuffs. Sebastian had half the mind to join his own House’s quidditch team even with his packed schedule just so he could wipe the floor with them. It would be worth never sleeping again.

“What do you want me to do Gar –”

“Here.”

A piece of paper hung from above him, the hand it was hanging from was connected to a face he hadn’t seen this closely in a long, long time. Even the whisper of her name in his mouth felt foreign – a tragic circumstance when a lifetime ago she had been a kindred soul.

Before he could say anything else, Garreth had already snatched the paper from in-between his eyes. “Is this – Really?!”

“The password for today’s party, try to sneak in when the ‘guards’ are smashed,” she grinned at the redhead. Then, Sebastian felt a cold blade slice through his chest (a hand suspiciously touching the spot just to check) when she looked back down at him again. “For old time’s sake.”

It took him a moment too long to realize she was talking to him too. But his tongue felt heavy and stuck, the metaphorical rug under his feet getting pulled out when he least expected it.

He nodded.

“See you around.”

He stared as she waltzes gracefully from the bustling crowd, getting roped into a hug by her boyfriend, William Frey, the bloody captain of the Ravenclaws. When he had heard about it, he couldn’t quite point out why he hated his smug, pretty face but then, using his blessed brain he got his bitter answer: they were too damn perfect together.

He was everything she deserved.

Smart, popular, kind, and comes from a good family that will be able to support her in whatever endeavors she might be up to in the future.

Not an orphaned criminal who couldn’t even save her sister.

The state of their friendship – or lack thereof – was pitiful but he knew it was for the better. Without each other in the way she can be loved by all those around her – something he has never been able to offer with his murky history that left a rubble of a man. And without her he can forget about his failures and mistakes, distract himself with as much schoolwork as he can cram in his head and never remember the times he sacrificed their friendship for his own gain only to lose it all anyways.

If he doesn’t see her then he can forget – he failed and his twin sister is dead.

A brilliant witch with a brilliant future didn’t deserve to be associated with failures.

“That was tense,” William whispered in your ears as he led you towards the courtyard. “A friend of yours?”

A flash of the lives you’ve lived with the Slytherin flashed before your eyes. Friends, what a lowly name.

You faked a smile, fighting every urge in your body to look back.

“A long time ago.”

The party was loud, no doubt the quidditch players were milking any taste of victory they have before they deal with whoever wins between the Slytherins and Gryffindor’s next week.

The music was loud, nearly pounding through the silencing charms in the walls of the common room. William at the thick in all of it, celebrating with his teammates, not forgetting to wave at you in your seat with that charming smile that usually makes you swoon.

However, it was the charmed fireworks all over the ceiling that had your heart exploding out of your chest. Flashes of nightmares at every pop.

The dark forest, the ruined castle, the ropes in your stretched out hands as Rookwoods men threw all sort of fiery spells at you as target practice.

You pinched your eyes shut, shaking your head, trying to focus on breathing.

When you were starting to get dizzy you knew it wasn’t working. You tried to push through the crowd, reach your boyfriend somehow and at least let him know what was going on but it was impossible. It was the peak of the party when everyone was too drunk to do anything but drink more and dance more. With a shuddering breath, you instead skirted around the crowd and escaped narrowly through the doors of the Ravenclaw common room.

Not even bothering with a disillusionment spell, knowing damn well all the prefects would be in the party, you ran to the nearest floo to travel to your common room.

However, even the silence and comfort of the top of the common room wasn’t enough to ground you as you stumbled straight down the cold tiles, a yelp escaping your mouth from the sting of your skin.

“Someone there?”

That voice, distant but familiar. Painfully familiar. Your eyes continue to blur as your breath hastened, your limbs too weak, and the cold floor too damn comfortable for your overheating body.

“Are you alright?” He’s closer now, at the bottom of the stairs.

No, no, no.

In your desperation, you swallowed your pride. Forgetting in the moment how humiliated you will be to be seen by the last person in your house you wanted to show this side of you.

He would take care of you.

He always takes care of you.

“Sebastian,” you could barely croak out in between your gasps. Silence followed and you whimpered, crawling down to the edge of the top of the stairs when you heard fast footsteps ascending and there he was.

“Fucking hell, what happened to you?!”

Before you could try to say anything else you were already carried in his arms, Sebastian’s panic at seeing someone that was always so shiny and untouchable on a daily basis gasping and writhing in their common room floor was something he had not prepared himself to see tonight.

He thought the worst would be drunk seniors he would have to haul up their rooms not his … not you.

Carefully, he placed you on the nearest couch, your grip in his arms painful but welcome as it grounded him and prevented him from rattling when he saw your pale face covered with sweat and tears.

“Pet, you gotta help me here, what’s going on?! What do you need?!”

His eyes plotted your face, firm hands frantically running across your body to check for any stain of blood or hints of the source of your pain. It was agonizingly intimate, especially with the knowledge of how much this has happened in the past – one of you writhing in pain, the other doing their darndest to fix it.

A shot of pain pierced your chest when you suddenly breathed in, making you cry out and crawl into his arms.

Your calming medicine – it was in your bedside table. However, it was no use, like blood was not reaching your brain and all you know to do is to just hold on to Sebastian.

“Fuck!”

In a blink, your face was buried in Sebastian’s neck, the entirety of your curled up body tightly held together by him as he sat you in his lap, arms wrapped protectively around your body. “Breathe with me,” he whispers, taking deep slow puffs and caressing your hair. “That’s it, deep breathes. Follow me, darling. Enough with your crying now, listen to my voice.”

In. Out. The clean scent of the common room, faint sweet smell of his favorite tea.

In. Out. The sweat on his skin, the cologne he had worn since the first day you met him.

In. Out. Old books, fresh parchment, thick ink, and the throbbing aroma of the Amortentia you brewed last week.

“Hey,” you could feel the sweat start to cool your skin, his rough hand worked on your cheeks as he continued to cradle you in his arms. His body relaxing with yours until you could take up air on your own. “What hap –”

“What in Merlin’s … did you do this?”

You stared up in wonder, the two of you surrounded by a large bubble, the ones you usually see when you throw a Protego, except this one continued to enclose you. Now that your panic has passed you realize you can’t hear anything else but … the sound of water?

He looked shy, rubbing the back of his neck as he settled you back on the couch. It was only then you realized that you had been in his lap this entire time. You hoped the dim light of the common room hid the embarrassment in your face.  “It’s … something I’ve made. Helps me sleep at night. What you’re hearing is the sounds under the Black Lake. I’m gonna write a paper on it for Ronen, should get me a couple of points.”

Ah, his valiant academic conflict with the Ravenclaws did not escape even you. They’re going to fucking curse him in their sleep when they realize he was a lap ahead of his competition.

Now that your vision wasn’t doubling you could faintly see a golden string that connected from the bubble, straight through the tall glass window of the common room. “Sebastian, this is brilliant.”

A flare of nervousness lodged in your chest when Sebastian suddenly looked at you– the gaze that let you know that he could see right through you. He always saw right through you – you’d grown to hate it.

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

He was a gentleman – always had been. It could be the fact that he had (has? is it too soon?) a sister that he was so well-versed in the heart of a lady. But aside from that – Sebastian, at some point in time, was someone who knew the most. And the gods’ honest truth is you never could hide a secret from him.

It could be the alcohol in your system or the buried instinctive nature to tell him everything back when the two of you spent late nights in the Room of Requirement and talked about everything being unearthed but you felt like being honest. Even if the boy beside you had grown into a stranger.

“I’m … remember when I got kidnapped by … and you …”

And you saved me.

Again. Always.

He was there, charging headfirst, ignoring Professor Fig’s warnings and Ominis’ pleas to wait for the Aurors in Hogsmeade. When he arrived, he saw the burn marks, bruises, and wounds all over your body and just saw red … and left red. 

“The Rookwood incident?”

By the time back up had arrived the two of you were slumped on each other and surrounded by corpses, eyes blank and suspicious, desperately holding on to each other.

“The Rookwood incident,” you nodded. “What I didn’t tell you is that before you had arrived, they had been … they tied me and threw fire spells at me, that’s where I got my wounds. I never told you because –”

He was too angry. And you were too terrified of pushing your closest friend to the darkness he had been tethering on. Not that it mattered, he fell right to that cliff on his own.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened, hands shaking in front of you. “No, Seb, it’s not like tha –”

“I know you were trying to protect me. You always were,” he shook his head, now it was him who couldn’t look at you. “How many scars did I give you?”

“I healed just fine –”

“Then let me rephrase my question, “ This time, the look in his eyes terrified you. The intensity, the guilt – it was so palpable you almost want to cup his face the way you used to, to ease his cruel burden. “How many of these nightmares have I cursed you with?”

Your silence made his bitter smile grow. You don’t have to say it because he (always) knows – the worst nightmares were the ones with him in it.

“Does … does he know about it?”

You nodded, “He does. William tried to help, sent me to the best mind doctors last summer but … I’m just so tired. I’m tired of the tests, the probing in my brain – he means well, I know he does but there’s nothing those strangers can tell me that I don’t already know.”

With an understanding expression on his face, the two of you sat in silence, staring at the large windows hovering over the two of you as the deep quiet of the lake echoed in the fragile haven he had conjured up. If you close your eyes, if you forget about everything else, you could almost trick you mind that these was one of those good times.

That you’d turn and find him buried in between towers of books you had borrowed from the library and Ominis would be sleeping against the wall of the Undercroft. And then you’d catch his eyes and he would smile – a silent message between two people who didn’t need to speak to communicate – and the silence would stretch, just like this, but you would be together again.

“I could teach you.”

You raised an eyebrow and despite himself he chuckled. He didn’t have the best history with teaching you spells, after all. “This charm, I mean.”

How many cures has been shoved in your throat? How many disappointments you hid in lies that, yes the Calming Elixir cures me of such flaws. Did you need any more help? Would it fix you this time?

“It won’t fix anything but it might ..” he shrugged. “… make tomorrow easier.”

You’re terrified of him, you realize. How can someone know you so deeply without ever even realizing it? Does he know? The power he has over you? How you would’ve burned your life to the ground if he had asked for it?

Ask, you wanted to scream. Ask. Ask. Ask.

“Alright,” He seemed surprised, you smiled at the face he made. “Couldn’t hurt.”

For all his nonchalance it was a complicated charm to cast. “No, it has to be more than half a circle when you swish it –”

This was familiar. A bit more awkward and with a lot more strain but it was familiar – if all had gone well this would have been just an unremarkable day in your life. You can’t help but wonder if your burden would be lighter if he was the one helping you carry it.

You swallowed your thoughts back down, no sense in dreaming of different realities now. Because this was your life and the worst thing that could possibly happen did happen. So, you’ll take all that you can get – even if it’s just one last night pretending everything didn’t slip out of your hands.

“No, here, let me guide you,” When Sebastian was in his ‘professor mode’ as you and Ominis used to tease him for, he gets so focused on teaching that he doesn’t notice anything else, doesn’t even notice your gasp as he wrapped an arm around your back, grasping the hand with your wand and helping you trace the shape needed to cast the spell. “And the word is ‘Salus.”

Salus. Safety. Salvation.

That’s who he was. Your Sebastian. “Salus.”

On cue, a bubble surrounded the two of you once again, the white noise of the castle replaced by the deep lake’s groans. “Perfect.”

Despite the time you spend learning all sorts of complicated magic, it never takes away the quick flutter of your chest in excitement at every spell you master. “I did it!” You turned to be Sebastian but he was already looking at you.

You’ve always told him if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought Sebastian was the true heir of Slytherin. He just fits here – in the dim lights, and emerald furniture, and the coldness that emphasizes just how warm he is. “… beautiful.”

“What?” He was staring, his hooded gaze, the freckles you had always wanted to trace into constellations, the part on his lips that teases your skin with his breath.

“Your technique is beautiful.” He’s lying, you don’t catch it. Suddenly, your half-pinned hair fell apart, Sebastian having pulled away the clip holding it away from your face. “Now, lay down.”

His arms were gentle and firm as they guided you to lay across the wide couch, Sebastian having scooted down to sit on the floor, face in front of yours. He’s so close. “Sleep.”

You hope he knows, that if your sleep remains dreamless tonight and if your tomorrow is easier, it’s not because of his painfully complicated spell. Your eyes waver, the edges of your sight dimming and blurring. You feel a touch on your cheek, you try to chase it. The last thing you see is his deep brown eyes and the soft smile that had been the biggest curse he had unknowingly laid on you.

He has to know, right?

You have to tell him.

Sebastian, I’ve always – I still – I never stop –

“Hey, wake up.”

Your eyes split open, another ghost of your past in front of you. “Ominis?”

The noise slowly trickled as you became more aware, eyes shifting to you, some out of curiosity why you picked the couch as a resting place instead of your bedroom a few feet away or some that saw you in the party that held some pity, probably thinking you’re suffering the worst hangover of your life.

“William Frey is looking for you by the door,” he muttered sharply. It’s been a while since you and Ominis interacted, his tattered friendship with Sebastian extending to your own as the boy’s most loyal comrade in his pursuit of destruction. You know he lays a blame you and for that you couldn’t blame him. “Honestly, I had thought you had grown out of your foolish habit of sleeping everywhere.”

“I-I’m … sorry?”

He shook his head before turning to leave.

Had … had everything been a dream?

You looked around suspiciously, for what you weren’t quite sure. A sign? A pillow out of place that could be evidence that last night happened?

It wasn’t mere delusion, you were sure. The knowledge of the spell in your head evidence enough of the small moment you shared with an old friend last night but it would be nice to have some sort of proof. A tangible confirmation that you could keep with you as you return to your reality.

With a sigh you let your disappointment fester for a second longer, locking last night in the deepest part of your heart, one that can only be unearthed once again in your loneliest nights.

A practiced smile cements on your face, turning to the chair one last time to allow yourself one more moment of hesitation before going up the stairs.

Back to the beautiful boy who will only see the beautiful parts of you and leaving the one who gets the honor of keeping the shadows.

Inside the boy’s dormitory Sebastian stares at the stolen emerald clip on his bedside table.

[wileys-russo]

Kyra cooney-cross "I don't know how you managed to make me your girlfriend" (in a funny way) london colney

kyra cooney-cross

if there was one key attribute that no one could ever deny you had, it was patience.

hell you had to in order to date kyra, the girl was like an energiser bunny on a slow day and didn't need any sort of substance to be bouncing off walls.

you'd grown up together and gone through the youth teams side by side, so overtime you'd learned exactly what it took to try and navigate being her girlfriend rather than her babysitter, though that wasn't to say there wasn't days where that line felt blurred.

today was one of those days.

with the weather outside set to storm all day the training program had been altered to mean no one needed to train outside, the flu making its way through london and a big game coming up on the weekend the the coaching staff weren't ready to take any risks.

most of you didn't mind the change, taking the opportunity for further strength training in stride.

one person who did not like the change however was kyra, whose pent up energy coupled with the shitty weather meant she was like a ticking time bomb, unpredictable and ready to go off at any second.

"ky, baby please stop that." you sighed, your girlfriend stood in front of you as you sat up on the weights bench, repeatedly punching the air in front of you, her fists mere millimeters from your nose.

"can't, i'm like rocky!" kyra puffed, making all sorts of strange noises as she continued, another sigh leaving your lips as you dropped down to your back and continued with your exercises, kyra reverting to now kicking the air.

"kyra! do your program!" kim yelled out from across the gym, the words falling on deaf ears as the captain gave up for the day, having been pushed to her very wits end by the young energetic aussie who seemed allergic to sitting still.

"ky, honey please do your weights." you sighed as you finished your reps, your girlfriend returning to her punches, again only millimetres of space between her hands and your nose.

"fine! spot me." kyra groaned as the two of you swapped, her laying down on the bench, your own program long finished as kyra wasn't even halfway through hers.

"babe, focus please." you reminded as the brunette chattered away mid chest press, the bar slipping slightly as you hurried to grab it but she assured it was fine and continued on her way.

"whats next?" you held your hand out for her program as she tossed it to you, causing you to sigh and unravel the crumpled up ball, running your finger down the list. "bicep curls." you nodded for her to grab the hand weights.

"don't need those. i'm massive!" kyra stood up on the bench and began to pose, grunting and heaving as she flexed and moved like a body builder, rolling her sleeves up as you watched on unphased.

"wonderful, bicep curls please." you held up the hand weights as the brunette dropped back down with a huff. "you're no fun sometimes you know babe, like a wet blanket." your girlfriend accepted the weights as you chuckled.

"well you have enough fun for both of us, someones gotta keep you on the right track." you gestured for her to start, the girls around you watching on in wonder at the utter patience and the fact that kyra seemed to listen, able to work through the rest of her program with minimal interruptions.

"ky maybe thats not the best idea." you warned as she moved into the other section of the gym, grabbing the ropes and starting to pull herself up. "its fine! look im like a monkey." the brunette started to make noises as she swung herself back and forth and you took a seat.

"you've got twenty on the bike and ten on the rower and you're done. can we please get it done? then you've got free time and lunch." you tried to encourage, most of the other girls long finished as your words fell on deaf ears.

"you have the patience of a saint." steph sighed pulling herself up to sit beside you as kyra continued to swing. "just the practice of one is all." you chuckled, again try to coax kyra into finishing her program but to no avail.

"kyra i really don't think thats a good idea." steph warned as the girl dropped and started to try and wrap her ankles up to hang upside down from the hoops.

"sometimes you just need to let her do something dumb, its the best way she burns off energy and learns a valuable lesson." you shrugged as steph looked to you to continue her warnings.

and sure enough, your words rang true as kyra swung about upside down.

"im the king of the castle and you're all dirty rascals! oof." with a loud thud and a grunt she fell from the ropes to the floor with a groan, wincing as the ropes all fell down on top of her to complete the accident, the girls who were left in the gym all roaring with laughter.

with a sigh you hopped down and offered her a hand up, her face flushed bright red with embarrassment as you shook your head.

"ky baby some days i really don't know how you managed to make me your girfriend."

[hisxthighs]

jongseob x y/n smut

includes: first time, sex, oral sex, making out

-

“y/n!” jongseob yelled after you turned away from him to start walking home.

the two of you had met up for a cup of coffee earlier that afternoon and hours went by of just strolling in the park and talking about life. before you knew it, it was already almost 10pm and the only light you shared was from the light post above you.

you turn around to look at him and tilt your head, “yeah?” you ask.

he rubs his neck with his hand, mumbling, “do you wanna come over? i’m not ready to say goodnight to you yet.”

you pucker your lips, in thought. “but jongseob~ we’ve already been together all day. aren’t you sick of me?” you joke around.

he raises an eyebrow, “well… are you sick of me?” he asks back, crossing his arms together.

“fine, i’ll come over for a bit…” you walk back towards him, your hand occasionally brushing against his which made you too excited.

when you walked into jongseobs house behind him, a hint smell of cologne filled the air, with a bit of freshness behind it. it’s exactly what he smelled like. you had never been over to his house before. the two of you had really only gotten close this last month — you met in a college program last semester and now you feel like you can’t go a day without wanting to see his handsome face. it was obvious that the both of you liked eachother (a lot) but neither of you could actually make a move. so when jongseob invited you over tonight, you wondered if maybe it would lead to something — maybe even a kiss at least.

“you thirsty?” jongseob asks, opening up the cupboard to grab two empty glasses.

you nod, sitting on his stool that was tucked into the wooden bar table. his house was dark however very tidy.

jongseob pours a glass of orange juice, making a mimosa. as he hands it to you, he smiles and you catch that cute snaggletooth of his which you had grown to love. you take a sip and smile, nodding with approval.

he puts his hand out and nods his head at you, telling you to follow him without using any words. a glass in your hands and both your empty hands holding eachothers softly, you walk into his living room.

one drink after another, about an hour passes and you can really start to feel the drinks kicking.

“you doing okay? too many drinks?” jongseob asks.

“no i’m fine, thanks though seob,” you smile. you notice his cheeks getting flushed and you wonder if it’s because of the short nickname you gave him.

jongseob stretches out and sighs. “are you doing okay?” you ask him.

“you’re too pretty.” he says, refusing to make eye contact.

“what?” you sit up a bit, looking at him, waiting for him to look back at you. but he doesn’t.

“jongseob?” you ask, eventually tilting your head in front of his face and his eyes narrow up to yours.

“fuck…” he mumbles, his eyes moving from yours down to your lips.

you can feel your face getting flushed, unsure of what to say. before you can even think, you put your hands on his cheeks and lean in, giving him a deep kiss. he doesn’t refuse, instead he kisses you back much more passionately, finding your hips with his hands and pulling you on top of his thighs. without breaking the kiss, you automatically move your hips against jongseobs waist, causing a soft moan to escape his lips. and then he pauses, his hands gently on your waist still.

“i’ve never done this before.” he blurts out. and the corner of your lips curve into a smile. giggling, you peck his lips and nod. “i’ll go easy then,” you say softly. “unless you don’t want me to keep going?” you ask with honesty.

“nonono- this is all i’ve been wanting y/n…”

and with that, you kneel down on the floor in front of the couch and watch as jongseob fiddles with his zipper to undo his pants. it didn’t take long for them to be wrapped around his ankles. and that’s when you finally got to see his size. his glistening pink tip that matched the color of his lips. he was uncut which you loved, slowly peeling down the foreskin to reveal his whole tip. you mouth was basically drooling and with every little touch you gave him, jongseob would twitch and quiver, as all of this was so new to him.

you gathered a pile of spit in your mouth before letting it drip down his cock, the sight you gave him made him bite his lip down. with your lips forming a small ‘o’ you wrap your mouth around his tip, slowly pushing more of him into your mouth as you watch jongseobs reaction from below him.

“fuck- oh my god.” he mumbles, breath shaking and his thighs shivering as you push him deeper into your mouth. he had to lean his head back to rest against the couch because he could swear if he keeps watching you suck him like that, he might just cum already.

you slowly tap his cock against your tongue after a few minutes of lapping at it, and you stand up. “sorry seob… i don’t think i can wait much longer,” you tell him, pulling your panties down after your pants as you reveal your cunt to him. you watch his cock twitch at the sight of you which only makes you hornier.

just as you climb on top of him, lining up his cock with your entrance you hear him mumble, “wait…”

and you quickly look up at him, “do you want me to stop? i’m sorry-”

“nono, uh… shouldn’t we use protection?” he asks, stroking his cock softly with his hand.

you shrug, “i’m on the pill…”

and before you could even prepare yourself, jongseob was already crashing into your wet pussy. the stretch was unreal and made you groan, falling onto his chest as you get used to his size. all he keeps doing is apologizing but his cock just keeps plummeting into you. you couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex, so the way he was fucking into you was almost painful — but you were enjoying it — the wet sounds, the moans, and the way jongseobs nails were digging into your waist.

“holy fuck y/n- you feel… so… so good.” jongseobs movements underneath you started to feel erratic so you took control and began bouncing on his cock, putting your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. it didn’t even take minutes to feel his cock let loose against your walls. hearing him moaning so loudly, whining so softly as you put your forehead against his, and feeling his cum spurt in you was enough for you to let yourself come undone on him. you were in shock as that was the first time you had ever finished from being with someone else before.

as you slowly let yourself off of his sensitive cock, jongseob grabs your neck softly and kisses your lips passionately.

“we’ll be needing to do that again sometime soon, y/n.”

[gremlinmodetweeker]

From the Cage to... Another Cage

Okay so, I'm desperate for some a/b/o alpha König, so if anyone knows anything, hit me up pls. I am desperate. I'm so desperate I made my own. I'm so sorry for being so degenerate.

MDNI SFW

tw: Sexual themes implied (heavily)

Story below the cut

From the Cage to... Another Cage

“Are you certain she is the one?” a giant man turned to his companion, a korean man staring at a piece of paper.

“I… I think she is,” the beta type A scowled at the paper, “but she’s a bit…”

“What am I supposed to do with her?” the alpha type A gestured at you through the bars of your cage, “this must be a mistake!”

“This is what the SHA came up with, not me,” the paper flapped in the korean’s hand as he dropped it to his side.

“She’s not too bad,” a tall beta type A stalked from the shadows to lean down to see you better, “you’re kinda cute, for an omega.”

You glared at her. She was only a beta, but still she was able to lord her status well above you. An omega type O like you was the absolute bottom of the barrel. You were the weakest of the weak and everyone in the room knew it. It’s not like it was a hidden secret. Omega type Os were typically used in the breeding program, so it wasn’t that surprising that you were selected as a candidate for the alpha. If anything, it was odd that he didn’t seem to be thrilled by your omega status.

“Stilleto, you’re scaring the poor girl,” a man with ochre skin called from the other side of the room. 

Another alpha, this one type B. He seemed more sympathetic than the others, at least.

He walked up to you and knelt down.

“Look, we don’t even know your name. Can you tell us who you are?”

You gave your name in a quiet voice. Submissive, just as you were trained to be. You played your part beautifully, which is part of why it was so startling that the alpha was so upset.

“I never asked for this!” the big alpha kicked a can across the room.

“I know, I know,” the beta man sighed and rubbed the big man’s shoulder, “but we don’t have a choice in this.”

“If I knew this was part of enlisting, I never would’ve done it,” the big man seethed.

“It’s not so bad, König,” the other tall man stood up to his full height, “I got myself a beta, and sure it’s awkward at first, but now? I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I’m not ready!” the biggest man, evidently König, snapped before rubbing his temples under his mask.

“Dude, you’re a colonel. It’s a wonder you weren’t set up earlier,” the man scratched the back of his head, “but seeing as you’ve gotten so far so quickly, the higher ups are gonna be desperate.”

“So I suffer for my success,” König groaned.

“Cheer up,” the woman laughed as she turned to face the man mountain, “now you’ve got a new toy to play with when you’re mad.”

The man froze in place. Even you, despite not knowing a single thing about these people (aside from the obvious), shivered and backed further into your cage. The woman, however, stood strong against the goliath, looking upon him with Davidian confidence.

“König,” the woman challenged him further.

“Stilleto,” the colossus gritted out.

“If you lay one finger on me, this omega will be the least of your problems,” the woman said cooly.

The man growled from deep within his chest, but he relaxed his shoulders. He still looked like he would reach out and snap her neck without a second thought, but at the very least he redirected his anger. Unfortunately, he redirected it to you.

“If I could leave you to rot in this cage, I would,” the alpha seethed.

“Oh come on man. That’s no way to speak to your omega,” the korean man sighed, somehow visibly rolling his eyes despite wearing sunglasses.

König rubbed his temples again as he took a seat on the floor in front of you. The dark skinned man urged the others to leave the room before shutting the door behind him with a click, leaving you alone with this ‘König’ to get used to you.

König hung his head as he took in the current situation. You couldn’t help but feel guilty, even though you were just as much a victim of the situation as he was. It’s not like you would’ve chosen an alpha type A yourself. Quite frankly, you’d heard enough legends about how aggressive and destructive these alphas were, so you were keen on pairing up with a beta. A beta would’ve been lovely, honestly. Someone nice, calm, easy-going. Betas were known to go into heats and ruts, sure, but they were at least capable of controlling their urges outside of their seasons. A beta was easy to get along with, and they weren’t naturally submissive and weak like an omega, but they weren’t as dominant and headstrong as an alpha. A beta would have been kind and loving while breeding you. An alpha? An alpha type A? You’d be lucky if you came out in one piece.

“You.”

You snapped your head to look up at the man in front of you, wincing slightly when you locked eyes with him.

“You know that as of today, we are both off suppressants.” 

That… You were unfortunately aware of. You knew your purpose here, and he knew it too. Good soldiers didn’t come from nowhere, and the government was always hungry for more. To satisfy a growing demand, your program was developed. And now, you were with your new partner for life.

“Once you get out of this cage, I’ll bring you back home. Do not look up at others. Just follow behind me and keep your head down.”

You nodded along to his orders. Something told you it wasn’t possession that prompted him to order you to keep your eyes down, but something else. Shame, maybe?

“And when we get home,” König faltered, “we will figure it out. I have a guest bedroom for you.”

“Are you sure?” you curled into yourself at his withering stare.

“If the SHA does a follow up interview, we sleep in the same bed and I breed you every other night,” König stumbled through the sentence awkwardly, but you didn’t dare question him. You were curious how he would explain two fertile partners not being able to produce any offspring by the time of a follow up, but you figured he’d figure it out.

König reached up and slid the latch of the cage, opening the door and letting you crawl out slowly.

“Did they really ship you in this cage?” König wondered aloud.

“It was just an overnight,” you said as you shook your limbs. Crouching down for over twelve hours had been excrutiating.

“Do you have a washroom anywhere?” you turned to him, and he silently led you to a public washroom.

You looked around the building as you walked out of the washroom only to hear a sharp clicking sound. You whipped your head to look at König, only to realize that you were already breaking his rules. You quickly train your eyes on the ground, relaxing when the man gives an affirmative hum. You wondered how you’ll know where you’re going when you felt a warm pressure on the back of your neck. It dawned on you that he’d be essentially scruffing you and dragging you along back to his home. It was humiliating, but there was no way to avoid the shame.

As the man walked you out to the parking lot, you endured whistles and catcalls, surprisingly not directed at you, but rather at mocking the man that pushed you along. He seemed to try and hurry you to the best of your abilities, but your legs weren’t nearly as long as his and he had to slow down lest he topple you over. It was laughable how this big man seemed so shy around those who were obviously of a lower rank, but still he seemed anxious as he rushed you to the parking lot.

Once in the parking lot, he hurried you into the passenger seat of a large pickup truck, evidently the only thing that could accommodate his size.

In the car, he slumped with his head in his hands, panting and gasping like a suffocated dog.

“It’s okay,” you gingerly rubbed his back, “it’s over now.”

König groaned and dropped his head onto the horn. You winced at the drawn out honk before he bonked his head against the horn as he processed what had just happened.

“Hey, hey you don’t have to-You should probably stop-”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” he flopped back into his seat and dug his palms into his eye sockets, “ever.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” you tried to assure him but he was inconsolable.

“They all know who you are now. You know, they’ve been making jokes about me for years, ja?” König barked a bitter laugh, “and now they’ve actually seen you. I’ve spent years building up my reputation and now it’s all over.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, unable to help the man beside you.

“It’s fine,” he waved you off, “it’s not your fault. Just… I wish they could’ve delivered you after work or something. I mean, while I’m working? Ridiculous.”

You watched as he composed himself. He jammed the keys in the ignition and cranked it harshly. He backed out of his parking spot, then zipped out of the parking lot as quickly as he could.

After a couple of clicks, he glanced over at you.

“I’m a colonel,” he said, “so I get certain perks, ja? I get my own home. It’s nice, but small. Not as big as my home back home.”

“Home back home?” you looked at him strangely.

“I come from Austria,” he explained, “so my real home is back in Austria, near my parents. It is very good, but I cannot go there often.”

“When you go there, will I be coming with you?” you asked timidly.

“Well, my current home does not belong to me. It’s only a temporary home on the base,” König explained, “so ja, you would come home with me.”

“Do I need a passport for that?” you asked.

“You didn’t come with one?” König questioned you bitterly.

“I don’t think so,” you picked apart your file for all your identification, “no, it doesn’t look like it.”

“Just…” König sighed, “wonderful.”

The rest of the drive was silent.

AU Masterlist

[onskepa]

Left behind: You promise?

Hellooooooooooo everyone! Now the story will really starts kicking! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Left behind series

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

Third pov

It was like looking at his own dead body. There he was. His twin brother, his other half, dead right before him. Jake found it a bit cruel, his brother studied hard to be in a position to go to another planet, to be with the big science guys. Only to be killed by a simple, pointless crime. 

He didn't want his little girl to see her dead uncle. It would break her heart. It was only a few days ago they all had a cup of coffee and luxury sweets called cookies, did Tommy break the news. That he would be leaving Earth for the ideal planet called pandora. To make connections with life over there. 

It was a bittersweet goodbye since the travel to pandora is 5 years. 

It was best to not tell his little girl that her super smart uncle is dead. Best that she believes he left to space.

Third pov

“I'm sorry, WHAT?” 

“The RDA wants you to take your brother's place and continue what he couldn't even start”

Jake was at a loss. He needed to mourn for his loss but the officials couldnt even give him 5 fucking minutes. 

“The RDA wants me, a crippled ex-marine, to join them? What use would I be to them?” Jake asks, feeling a bit pissed off by the second. 

“More than you know. You see Mr. Sully, your brother was going to join the Avatar program, it is a section of the RDA where scientists use a body that looks like the pandorian natives. Those bodies costs billions of dollars to make. And not being used is a huge waste” one of the officials said, almost in a robotic way. 

“So?” Jake shrugs. 

“You have a 100% accurate DNA of your brothers avatar, they want you to join in the program and do the mission that was given to tommy” 

Jake scoffs. Slamming his fists against the table. 

“You want me to leave this place, leave my kid behind. Mind you, just to get to that planet takes 5 years! 5 years of me being gone away from my kid! The hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted. Jake was ready to leave them and just get back to his home, back to his daughter. 

The two officials looked at each other, having a silent conversation in their eyes. 

“Mr. Sully, I don't think you are in a position to reject this” 

“Oh, why the fuck not?” Jake tilts his head, almost ready to laugh out of his insanity. 

“We know you are financially unstable. Barely scraping by, making a clown of yourself in low cheap bars. Can't even give a good education for your kid. Jake, you are at the bottom of the trash, and even with your useless legs, you can't crawl up. But hear this. If you join the RDA, your daughter will be given the best education we can give her. All employees who work for the RDA, if they have kids, are given the utmost care. School, shelter, a chance in life” 

It was like a spell. 

The more those bastards talk, the more tempting it sounds to jake. 

His kid getting everything he can't provide? School? A warm bed? 

“But…..it's 5 years……10 years to and from…thats….that's too much I would be missing so many years of my kid…” Jake says rather weakly. 

“Oh jake….many parents make the biggest sacrifice to give their kid a better tomorrow. If you truly care for your kid, you leave her behind”  

Jake’s pov

“You are leaving…?” Her voice was weak. 

God damn it this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. 

I accepted the Devil’s offer. I will take my brother's place in exchange for my daughter having a better future. Sad to think it might not have me involved. But there is still time, she is still a baby. By the time I returned she might be a moody teen but still a kid. 

“You are not staying with me daddy?” my little angel asks. Her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes reflecting mine. 

“It won't be forever, baby, just for a little while. Uncle tommy needs my help” 

It took everything for my voice to not shake, my girl is a smart kid, she will sense my heart breaking. 

She crawled on my lap, her little face eager. “I wanna go with you!” she whines. Shaking my head I had to explain to her. 

“I'm sorry baby, but where I am going, kids are not allowed. Too dangerous. Its safe you stay here”. 

“With Miss Morve?” she questions. God I wish. 

“No, Misses Morve is too weak, you will be going to a school that will take good care of you. Doesnt that sound nice? You get to go to school like you always wanted. Make friends and eat all the yummy foods we see on the holograms. Doesn't that sound great?” I do my best to make it sound good. 

But stubbornly, she shakes her head. 

“It's not great! You won't be here! I wanna stay with you! You said it daddy! Sullys stick together!” 

My little girl started to cry her little heart out, and I followed. Hugging her really tight, we cried for a bit. 

“Don't leave me daddy!” she wails out. 

“I won't baby, I will always be with you. It will just be for a little while. It may feel like forever, but I will come back. I promise love” I tried to reassure her. 

Feeling her pull back a bit, I can see her eyes puffy red, tears still flowing out. God, seeing her cry makes my heart ache. My little angel does hold my heart in her hands. 

“You promise?” she asks, holding out her pinky finger. 

I intertwined my pinky finger. 

“I promise. No matter what baby girl, I will come back. Sullys stick together” 

Third pov 

Handing the handlers his child’s only luggage, Jake gives his daughter one last hug. But this hug will be the last for who knows how long. 

Jake’s little girl was crying her soul, not read to really let go at all. Wanting to be with her dad forever and ever. 

“Don't leave me please!!” she begs. This was really hard for Jake. Hard for both of them. And it took jake everything in him to not change his mind. To say no to the RDA, to take back his child and go back home. But this was for her. This was for the little sully girl. To give her everything she could ever want, it required the biggest sacrifice. And that was letting go. 

“I'm not leaving you. I will come back, I promise with my life babygirl” jake says. Giving her so many kisses. 

Sniffling away her tears, his little princess leaps up to give Jake a kiss on the cheek. 

“Be good, ok? Make friends, study hard, and before you know I am back for you” 

But little Sully was still scared. 

“You won't forget about me?” she asks, wanting to make sure her dad won't forget. 

“I could never forget you. My angel, my sunshine in the rain, my little princess "Jake praises. 

Wiping away her tears, his little girl takes a deep breathe. “You promised daddy. Sullys stick together…” she says, her voice shaking. 

“Sullys stick together, forever” 

Third pov 

“And there they go! Off to the beautiful planet Pandora '' the teacher says as she shows to her class the live recording of the RDA employees in the transportation ship leaving the Earth's atmosphere. 

Among the astonished woas of the little ones, little sully was watching the ship with her careful eyes. A small tear leaving her eye. There goes her daddy. But he will come back. He promised. So, if she is a good girl and does everything, her daddy will come back for her. 

He promised. 

Right?

I am so pleased with how it turned out! Tell me what you think! Until next time! See ya!

Like the story? Put your name on the taglist for the next update!

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

Taglist:

@boobitchhehe @heart-an0n @justcaptiannoodles @mochacoffeeumai26 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @skittlebum @teyamsbitch @ratchetprime211 @iwannabeapinkaesthetic

[mangoshorthand]

A Hargreeves Christmas Carol | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader | Ch2

SUMMARY: Luther is the sort of idiot who goes around with a 'Merry Christmas' and a goofy smile on his lips. In your opinion, he should be roasted with his own turkey and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. Who better to teach you the error of your ways than Luther's brother, the man who holds the power of Christmases Past, Present, and Yet to Come in the palm of his hand? Info/Announcement Post << Read Chapter One

Chapter Two (Rated T, 4.7k words)

The First of the Three Spirits

You blinked, eyes protesting in sudden, bright daylight. 

“Where are we?” came Five’s voice, still holding tight to your elbow.

“How the hell am I -?”

But you broke off. You knew this place.

“It’s your past,” Five said. 

And then, proudly, as if he couldn’t help himself, he elaborated:

“This briefcase is a prototype I made. It just needs DNA, and it can take you back along that person’s individual’s timeline. All I needed was a hair from the brush in your room, and here we are.”

You weren’t fully listening. Instead, you were looking around at your surroundings, staggered by what you were seeing. 

You and Five were standing on a suburban street; a sprawl that would be featureless to all but those to whom it was familiar. The snow, in gentle flurries, was just starting to overcome the grit on the road, and shoveled driveways too were being dusted with fresh power. 

“I lived here.” you said, softly.

You gazed at the small house across the street from where you stood, at the azalea bush whose flowers used to brush the living room window in spring. So many memories rushed back, half forgotten and shadowy in quality; like dreams you couldn’t be sure really happened.

It made you feel strange. 

“I was little,” you murmured.

Your voice was soft, and it wavered as you spoke. Five looked at you curiously, at your trembling lip and the small tear on your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, more gently than he’d yet spoken. 

You swallowed.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I didn’t.” Five said, “Emotional stuff gets into your DNA too. I just programmed it to take me to your earliest salient christmas. And here we are.”

He continued to look at you appraisingly. 

“I don’t want to do this,” you said. 

There was no anger in your voice, none of the rudeness or indignance from before, only vulnerability. 

He knew you well enough for this to strike him as unusual. You were a tour de force: a hard-nosed bar owner, a woman he’d watched ordering drunk and disorderly patrons out of her establishment without turning a hair. It would be fair to say he admired you. You were striking: hair shining in the low light, the unadorned, efficient way you pulled a pint or shook a cocktail. The bar was your stage, and your presence there was magnetic. 

For a moment, he felt guilty about the part he was playing, about the hornet’s nest in your life that he might, even now, be kicking. He didn’t know quite why he did it, but something about the tear falling down your cheek made him release your elbow and hold out his hand instead.

You took it, and led him towards the house.

“You can go in,” he said, when you hesitated a little out of view of the front windows, “they can’t see us. This is a read only visit.”

“What?”

“It means we can’t affect anything,” he explained, patiently, “It’s as if we’re watching a movie of what happened.”

He eyed you then, at the thin sweater you were wearing, and felt another small pang of guilt that he hadn’t let you get a coat. 

“I don’t want to go inside,” you said, quietly, and led him to the front window. Together, beside the bloomless azalea bush, you pressed your faces against the glass.

Inside was a christmas tree, at the foot of which a small girl sat, surrounded by gifts, discarded wrapping paper and new toys. There was a set of crayons and a coloring book, a small lego set, and a stuffed calico cat with a bright pink bow around its neck.

She was alone in the room and, what was even more unusual, she was not opening any of the other gifts around her and was instead staring at her own legs in footsie pajamas. 

The reason why was clear. From within the house, a raging argument was clearly audible, even though layers of walls and glass must separate you from them.

“What world do you live in?” came a woman’s shriek.

“A world where me placing one little bet isn’t going to break the fucking bank, Ellen!”

“Fuck you! Two hundred dollars is not a little bet! I earn twice your wage, what makes you think you can -?”

“Oh HERE we go,” the man shouted, “you never let me forget that, do you?”

“Not when you’re wasting the money that I earned!”

“What about when you earned less than I did? Back then there was plenty of money for you to spend on fucking David!”

“Go fuck yourself!”

There was a loud crash and a cry from your fighting parents that made your younger self jump and start to cry.

Maybe I wouldn’t have been fucking David if you hadn’t been neglecting me!” came a shrill, scream, “You’ve never cared whether I’m happy!”

“GET OFF ME, YOU CRAZY FUCKING BITCH!”

As you looked at your younger self, you cried along with her, all the memories coming back in that moment: hurled insults, smashed plates and drunken tussles. 

Five’s hand came to the small of your back.

“Hey, look,” he said.

A car was pulling up on the drive. You turned your tear-streaked face towards it, and it made your heart skip a beat.

Everything about the car and its driver fell hard on your heart: the sickly beige of her Dodge Caravan, the squeak of the parking brake as it engaged, her perm, the swing of her leather purse as she carried over her arm with a sack of gifts clutched to her side; all of it just made the tears come faster. 

“It’s my grandma,” you wept, and Five’s hand rose to your shoulders, rubbing tentatively between your shoulder blades as your grandmother juggled with her stuff and knocked on the door. 

In the living room, little you sprang to her feet, ran to the hallway and opened the door, falling against your grandmother’s legs to cry against her. The young you cried with relief that she could run into her grandmother’s arms, while the adult you cried in grief that she could never do so again. 

“What’s all this?” your Grandma said, scooping you up and holding you to her chest, “What’s wrong?”

But the young you was too overwhelmed to respond, and the voices echoing from within the house quickly helped grandma to put two and two together.

“Fighting again?” she said, grimly, holding open the front door with one leg, “Merry goddamn christmas.”

She joggled you onto one hip and shouldered her way into the house.

When the door clicked closed behind you, muffling your parents’ screaming, you were left sniffling beside the azalea. 

“She got full custody of me eventually,” you said, “Dad left, Mom moved back in with her, and then Mom married a new guy, moved to Illinois, and left me with her.”

“Ouch,” Five said, wincing, “so no Parent of the Year awards here?”

“Grandma was parent of the century.”

Five nodded. His arm hadn’t moved from around your shoulders. 

“I bet you had a lot of happy christmases with her at least?” he said. 

“I guess so,” you said, quietly, “but she wasn’t big on celebrating.”

You stood there, shivering, watching your younger self curled up on the couch while shadows moved in the kitchen behind you, as your Grandmother tried to lay down the law with her daughter and son in law before giving in and taking you back to her apartment.

There, you’d be in peace, away from the gifts, the twinkling lights and all the yelling, watching the snow fall down onto the city street outside the window, and drinking hot chocolate in her undecorated but undeniably peaceful apartment. 

Five, watching you, briefly set down his briefcase, removed his coat and placed it around your shoulders. 

“She died when I was twenty-one,” you said, quietly, drawing Five’s coat more closely around you.

“I remember you saying once that she left you the bar?”

“Yeah. And the apartment above. Mom tried to contest the will, but Grandma left it watertight. She always fought for me.”

You chuckled reminiscently.

“She left Mom one dollar and an ugly ceramic beagle.”

Five gave a half smile. 

“She sounds like an impressive woman. Formidable.”

“She was,” you sniffed, wiping your face with your hands. 

“Like you.”

You looked at him and returned his smile, tears dried now. 

“Let’s see another Christmas,” he said, taking your hand gently.

Again, you vanished with a fizz into the ether, and the world materialized around you as your body buzzed with electricity. 

It was a Starbucks filled with people, and festooned for the holidays, a jazzy version of Sleigh Ride pumped through the speakers. It was stiflingly hot, so you pulled off Five’s coat and folded it over your arm. The patrons jostled one another as they joined the line, staked out tables, or took their takeout, walking through you and Five as if you were nothing more than ghosts. 

And there you were, at twenty-three, sitting at a table in a low armchair, the seat of which sloped at such a high angle that your body was sunk back into it. You looked older than your age, tired and drawn: this impression would only increase over the years as the day to day stresses got to you. 

“Oh no!” you groaned, turning back to Five and deliberately blocking his view, “Not this.”

“What’s going to happen?” Five asked, craning around you curiously. 

Something about your tone had piqued his interest. It wasn’t a tone of distress, but embarrassment. His consciousness of this, as evidenced by a small smirk playing around his lips, made you scowl.

“I’m about to get dumped.”

Five quirked a brow.

“Well this I have to see.”

And he disappeared, leaving that little electrical frisson on your skin as he dematerialized, and then rematerialized immediately behind you.

“You’re such an asshole!” you said, following him as he approached the table.

Across from you sat Nick, your ex, running his fingers through his straw colored hair.

“He’s drinking a latte,” Five said, as if it was a crime. 

“- Is this about Brisbane again?” you were saying, with a roll of your eyes, “Do you expect me to close up for two weeks during the holidays? It’s the busiest time of year. If I acted like you wanted, I’d barely break even. Right now, I’m actually making real money.”

“You remember in college we used to talk about traveling after we graduated? We even talked about volunteering to teach in Ghana. We used to actually talk and laugh, but now you just snap at me. All you do is count your profits and push me away.”

You disclaimed this with a little shake of the head.

“I don’t push you away, I -”

“But you do.” he interrupted, “ever since you took over the bar. You’ve changed so much. I feel like I barely know you.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Nick,” you said, sarcastically, “excuse me for not having the time to fantasize about vacations when I have my grandmother’s business to run.”

“Do you think she would have wanted this?”

“Yes!” you cried, “She put her whole life into that bar!”

Nick gave a small, defeated sigh and took another sip of his latte. When he looked up again, he asked:

“Tell me something. If you met me now, would you want to be with me?”

You watched your younger self struggle to reply, the justice of what he was saying dawning in her eyes. You remembered the feeling well. 

When you opened your mouth to answer and nothing came out, Nick put his mug carefully down on the table.

“I didn’t think so.”

His voice faltered as he spoke, and you sat in silence for a few moments while Nick recovered himself. 

“I think that clears things up.” he said, simply.

“Nick…”

“No,” he said, his grey eyes serious, “I’m sorry, but it’s over.”

And he stood up from the table, leaving the last third of his latte. 

“Nick.” you said, again, starting to cry. 

“I think it’s been over a long time. I just didn’t see it.”

You tried to stand up to follow him as he moved towards the door, but the ridiculous armchair made you scramble to find your feet, and when you did, you fell back into it.

Five stifled a snort beside you, so you kicked him in the shin, slightly harder than could have been called gentle. 

“Ow!”

I hope you get everything you want,” Nick said, sincerely, “I really hope you find happiness.”

He hesitated a moment, looking awkward.

“So…goodbye then.”

And then he was fighting his way through all the people towards the door, leaving you staring after him with tears brimming in your younger self’s eyes. 

You watched you pained expression, and then turned to Five.

“I want to go home,” you said, to Five, “you’ve tortured me enough. What good does this do?”

Five was looking at the point where Nick had vanished into the crowd.

“I didn’t like him,” he said, bluntly, “You’re better off in my opinion. A Starbucks latte? No, you need a real man. I wouldn’t drink that shit if -”

But then he cut himself off, his eyes caught by something.

“Shit,” he said, distractedly, “that’s Luther.”

You looked up and followed his gaze. There, indeed was Luther, standing in line for the counter, looking unlike you’d ever seen him before: he looked young, comparatively baby-faced, and, though still tall, his proportions looked completely normal. 

Five glanced down at a display near the briefcase’s handle.

“It’s before he went to the moon,” he murmured. And then, in a more normal tone, “I didn’t know you knew him this far back.”

“I didn’t,” you said, dumbfounded.

“I didn’t know Dad let him leave the Academy,” Five said, almost to himself. 

Leaving your younger self to cry in her armchair, you and Five approached his brother. 

“Hey there,” he said, with his usual, grin, “I’ll just take this smoothie to go, thanks.”

And then something caught Luther’s attention. Perhaps he caught a glance of something out of the corner of his eye, because he turned to stare directly at you and Five. 

“Oh fu-” Five began, but petered out as it became clear that he wasn’t actually staring at you, but rather through you.

No, he wasn’t looking at you and Five, he was looking at the younger you, and his face had fallen into lines of empathy. 

“If I buy something for that lady, will you take it to her after I’m gone?”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Sure,” answered the barista, glancing at you, crying at your table, and immediately understanding Luther’s kind intentions. 

He furrowed his brow as he read the menu.

“I think she needs something chocolatey,” he said, “how about…a venti gingerbread hot chocolate with cream and those gold sprinkles?”

You watched Luther’s honest, earnest face as he paid, took his little bottle of smoothie, and left, humming a little snatch of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen as he went.

“That was him?” you said, watching Luther’s retreating figure with a dumbfounded expression on your face,  “I remember that. I thought one of the baristas took pity on me. It made me feel…”

Your own words to Luther echoed back in your mind:

“Why not keep all your Christmas shit to yourself and mind your own goddamn business?”

And then his reply, so like Nick’s:

“Why are you pushing me away?”

And your face flushed with shame.

“I was so mean to him,” you said, ruefully.

“Well,” Five said, with the reasonable air of someone chairing a debate, “it can be hard not to be mean to him. He asks for it.”

This didn’t make you feel any better, but Five continued.

“He didn’t always have it easy, but he always had this… uncrushable spirit beneath the surface. He’s always been a teddy bear, no matter how much Dad taught him to suppress it.”

Five gave a reluctant, half mocking chuckle.

“If you ask me,” he continued, “I think he’s trying to make up for lost time: our Christmases sucked.”

There was another moment of silence in which you looked down at the briefcase. 

“Can you show me?” you asked. 

“Huh?”

“Show me what it was like for you and Luther as kids. 

“We’re here to sort out your shit,” he said reprovingly, his thick eyebrows lowered.

“You think you can stop me from causing nuclear armageddon if you show me the past, right?”  

“We’re here to get to the root of your christmas hate-boner so you don’t cause such a mess, yeah.”

“Then show me Luther’s past. Show me why it’s so important to him.”

Five considered you, a vertical line between his brows and the corners of his mouth turned down. After a moment, he spoke, sounding impressed with the idea:

“I guess we could try it. And I know just the one.” 

He moved closer to the table and armchairs to give himself space, knelt and placed the briefcase on the floor beside him. He reached into an inner pocket of his blazer and withdrew a pair of tweezers and a small vial sealed with a cork. 

Carefully, he bent over the briefcase and removed the strand of your hair from one of its mechanisms with the tweezers, and deposited it into the vial.

“That’s creepy as shit,” you remarked, “Do you regularly steal DNA from women’s bedrooms to keep in little jars?”

Five rolled his eyes as he stowed the vial away again.

“Trust me, if I wanted to be creepy, your mess of a bedroom gave me ample opportunity. Do you even own a laundry hamper? If I had a thing for worn panties, that room would be nirvana.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as Five used the tweezers to pluck a single dark hair from his own head. 

“That ought to do it.”

With a steady, precise hand, he slid his own hair into the briefcase’s mechanism. When he clicked it closed, the entire panel hummed, lit briefly with a faint blue glow. 

“Perfect,” he said to himself, and drummed his fingers briefly on the briefcase as he thought.

“Christmas of ‘95? Yeah, six seems about right.”

He fiddled with the dials briefly.

Five rose to his feet again and held out his arm, which you took readily. 

“Here we go,” he said, and clicked something on the briefcase. 

And there was the roiling static, your skin alive with tingles, and you arrived, swaying, into a scene unlike any you’d seen so far. 

The room was white walled, the floor of that squeaky wooden variety you get in a school gymnasium. Padded mats were stacked neatly against the wall at one end, and mirrors lined one of the walls.

Four small children stood in front of the mirror, watching two more facing each other in the on a large mat in the center of the room. One of these was blonde and tall for his age, the other slight and dark.

“Where are we? Wait, is that you and -?”

“Number One and Number Five,” came a crisp voice from the other end of the room, “I have chosen to pair you today because your respective power offers the other a unique and complementary challenge.”

It was Reginald Hargreeves, standing tall and imposing in a pinstriped suit, trademark monocle firmly in place. Beside him, another child stood, hiding behind bangs with a clipboard at the ready, presumably to take notes.  

“Wait,” you asked, “isn’t this supposed to be Christmas?”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” the grown Five beside you confirmed, grimly. “Didn’t mean shit when it came to our training.”

As he spoke, Hargreeves continued.

“Number One, you have size and strength on your side, but you are uncontrolled; clumsy. Number Five, while you may be agile and precise, you are small and weak.”

The young Five in the center of the room’s jaw set. It was simultaneously a sad expression to see on the face of such a young child, and a pleasant little hint of the man he would grow into.

“You were adorable,” you said, before you could stop yourself. Then, you hurriedly added, “all of you, I mean.”

Five only smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was looking at the two boys in front of him, and it seemed as if he was already regretting his decision to show you this.

“The object of this fight is to overpower the other by any means necessary,” Hargreeves continued.

“Jesus,” you murmured, and Five shrugged beside you. 

“Prepare yourselves.” 

The two children shifted, and squared their small frames, bare feet planting against the mats. 

“Three,” Hargreeves voice rang out, “Two…One. Begin!”

Young Five and Luther sprung into action, Five vanishing before the latter could even make his first move. On instinct, Luther ducked immediately, avoiding Five’s tiny fist as it punched the air where the back of his brother’s head was, just a moment earlier.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, half in shock, half in horror.

The two children moved like professionals: like lightning, almost. It was hard to keep track of whose body was where: one minute Five was spinning away from Luther’s perfectly executed knifehand strike, and the next Luther was leaping over Five’s leg, extended in a high kick.

When the first hit came, you gasped and clapped a hand over your mouth.

The heel of Five’s hand slammed up and into Luther’s face, causing him to cry out and stagger backwards, his hands clasped over one eye. 

“Oww!” he whimpered, body wracked with sobs, “Ow, Dad!”

As Luther wept, the young Five hesitated, his hard, determined expression betraying a little remorse. Though he remained on the balls of his feet, prepared for another attack, he glanced guiltily at his father. 

“Press your advantage, Number Five,” Reginald said, a hint of pride in his voice, “and Number One, pull yourself together. Take a demerit for tears.”

At their father’s words, both Five and Luther leapt back into action, Luther’s expression contorted into pure, emotion driven frenzy, lashing out in pain more than he was sparring. 

You took an instinctive half a step forward, hand extended towards them.

“You can’t help,” Five reminded you, his voice carefully nonchalant, “they’re just shadows of what happened.”

Luther became wild and less disciplined in his movements, and though Five blinked around so fast that he was barely visible, the forceful strikes he landed affected Luther no more than a foam bat might have done. 

Then, Luther landed a hit of his own, a blow to Five’s stomach that made him double over at the waist with a hiss as all the air was punched out of his lungs.

“Excellent, Number One.” Hargreeves said, motioning to the child beside him to take a note.

But Luther wasn’t listening. Breathing through his teeth as snot ran from his nose, he pulled back his fist once more and struck Five squarely on the chin with a devastating uppercut that sent him off his feet and flying across the room, struck with the full force of the young Luther’s power.

His head hit the far wall with a sickly crack, and he fell like a ragdoll onto the pile of stacked mats. 

A great gasp went up around the room, yours included. You dropped Five’s coat and, unthinking, ran over to the injured child and dropped to your knees beside him, reaching out a hand. But, of course, your fingers passed straight through his face. 

His eyes were open, but far from alert. One of them, filled with blood from burst blood vessels, was looking inwards towards his nose, while the other looked straight ahead, unfocused. His mouth dripped with blood from a badly bitten tongue. 

You looked from him to the older Five, who simply shrugged as if to say: ‘what are you gonna do?’

“What happened?” you asked, turning desperately to Five, though the words kept coming before he could answer, “Oh my God, I didn’t know what he made you... it’s horrible!”

“It’s not how I’d raise kids,” Five said, with an air of forced casualness.

As Hargreeves lectured Luther for being undisciplined and told him that his fun and games privileges tomorrow were revoked, Five approached your end of the room. 

He picked up his coat with the hand not holding the briefcase and folded it over his own arm. 

“You want to see what happened?” 

You nodded, and Five began to fiddle with the briefcase once more. It took no more than a grasp of his hand and the final click of a button before you were in a bright, cozy sitting room.

“This is Christmas day,” Five said, “I was the only one who got the day off training - I still couldn’t see right -  but the others except Luther got to watch the movie with me.”

Though a fire was crackling in the grate, there were no decorations, you noticed. 

Little Five was sitting propped up in an armchair, his face bruised, one eye still red and a bandage wrapped around his head. All the other children save Luther were seated on a couch.

One of the boys was wriggling, much to the annoyance of his brother.

“Klaus,” he said, indignantly, “stop kicking me!”

“Stop kicking me,”  Klaus imitated.

Then, one of the girls piped up from the floor.

“Can you two be quiet? I want to watch Rudolph!”

The two boys fell into scowling silence, and all eyes turned to the stop-motion animation on the TV, where Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was guiding Santa’s sleigh across the sky. 

Little Five looked from the TV to the sibling beside him.

“Hey, Ben,” came Five’s whisper, leaning towards him with difficulty. 

“What?” 

“I got presents from Santa last night.”

“No you didn’t,” Ben said, dismissively.

“Yes I did,” Five countered, “I got a black power ranger and three of the candies Dad gives us on our birthday, and a bookmark and two moon rocks. And it was all in a sock hanging on my bed, just like in the movie.”

“You’re lying,” Ben replied, “Santa’s not real. Dad says it’s just a lie they tell normal children.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, with a smug smile. “Then how come I got presents?

“Because you’re lying,” Ben retorted, tartly.

”I am not lying,” 

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Shut up!” said the girl again, indignantly.

“You shut up, Allison!”

“Oh yeah? Well I heard a rumor you stopped talking until after Rudolph!”

The two boys fell silent immediately, though Ben stuck his tongue out at Five. 

“I was such a little asshole,” the Five beside you said.

“You were a kid,” you said, gently, “you all were.”

“I guess.”

You watched the six of them, legs too short to touch the floor, and frowned.

“It was Luther, wasn’t it? The sock.”

“Yeah,” Five said, a tender note in his voice, “and he got in trouble for it. He stole the candies from Dad’s office.”

The corner of your lip twitched outwards in a sad smile. Five’s hand was still in yours, and you squeezed it. 

The pressure seemed to bring Five back to himself, and he cleared his throat, shaking off a little of the gravity that had settled on him as he revisited his own past.

“So that’s why you need to come tomorrow,” he said, stoutly, “for Luther, Christmas is about rejecting what Dad tried to turn him into. He feeds off showing people he cares, and he wants to show you.”

“But why am I so important?” you asked, a small whine edge into your voice, “He has you guys to show he cares. Why would him not being able to serve me turkey cause armageddon? Can’t I just smooth things over with him in the New Year?”

Five gave a large sigh and looked up at the ceiling, bringing all the lines and hollows of his neck into greater prominence. 

“God, you’re so stubborn. I am done trying to get through to you. Is all this not enough for you? You hate Christmas because your parents sucked and you got dumped, I get it. But still, you had people who loved you and were kind to you, and that’s what it’s supposed to be about, asshole! What more do you want from me?”

“What?” you asked, irritated, “you just expect me to jump for joy and turn into Mrs-fucking-Claus at the drop of a hat?”

“No,” Five said, dropping your hand and setting the briefcase with gritted teeth, “I was hoping you’d get your head out of your ass long enough to realise not everything’s about you and your, frankly, pretty mundane traumas.”

“Fuck you,” you retorted, annoyed by his attitude. “I’m sorry your dad made you beat the shit out of each other, but that doesn’t mean you get to dismiss my feelings!”

“I am not dismissing your feelings,” he said, punching a final few settings on the briefcase, “but would it kill you to make Luther’s day? Sometimes we do stuff to make other people happy. That’s what it’s supposed to mean to live in a goddamn society.”

“Are you fucking kidd-” you began, but your voice was cut of as Five seized a fistful of your sweater and you disappeared in a flash of light.

Read Chapter Three >> I FEED OFF COMMENTS AND REBLOGS YUM YUM YUM

Mr Fezziwig's Ball (left) and Scrooge Extinguishes the First of The Three Spirits (right) Both by John Leech, 1843 in Dickens's A Christmas Carol, first edition (1843).

Dickens' A Christmas Carol full text available here.

Read it! It's a much better than this, and you can see how many lines I stole verbatim or clumsily referenced.

Dividers used in this series by @bernardsbendystraws (garland) and @strangergraphics (lights)

Taglist: @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969, @chalametabingbong, @lolawassad, @icantpickanamefromonefandom @thebearmage @kaybreezy3000, @starlitflora (comment to be added or removed)

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[captainsophiestark]

Epiphany

Javi Rivera x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Twisters

Day Two Prompt: "It's been a long time."

Summary: Javi's job bring him back into the same town as a sort-of-ex, but if he wants a chance at rekindling anything, he's going to have to answer for his decision to work for Riggs.

Word Count: 3,189

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Happy spooky season everyone!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I grinned as I lined up my shot on the dartboard ahead of me, ignoring the heckling of my friends and a few new competitors we'd met at the bar. I was the undefeated champ at darts, both tonight and in general, and I hadn't gotten here by letting people get in my head.

I let out a breath, completely focused on the center ring, and sent the dart flying in one smooth motion.

Bullseye. As planned.

I turned to my friends with a grin, enjoying their chorus of groans. While I wasn't completely undefeated for all time, I was undefeated tonight, and I was frankly having the time of my life.

"Okay, there's got to be somebody in this bar who can beat you," teased one of my friends, throwing an arm over my shoulder and turning to scan the rest of the patrons who hadn't been roped into our competition yet.

"I bet I could give it a shot."

I turned at the sound of the voice to see a man I hadn't seen in years.

Javi Rivera and I had met while we were both studying at Muskogee State College almost six years ago. We'd hit it off, going quickly from friends to dating, and after only a couple months, I'd started to be able to see a future with him. And then, three of his friends died in a tornado while they were trying to test their PhD project and secure grant funding.

I'd done my best to be there for Javi, but we'd pretty quickly realized he needed some space--from chasing, from school, from Oklahoma. From everything. Including me.

It sucked to say goodbye to someone I loved, but at the same time, I got it. We'd parted on pretty good terms, deciding for both our hearts it would be best for the break to be clean. I'd thought about him a thousand times since then, clean break or no, but I hadn't seen him once. Now, he was standing before me in the dive bar just outside my hometown, apparently challenging me to darts.

"...Javi?" I managed, a smile tugging at my face despite the shock and disbelief. He grinned back at me, holding his arms out but not making any move to close the distance.

"Hey. It's good to see you."

I grinned, quickly closing the rest of the space between us to wrap Javi in a hug.

"It's good to see you too! What are you doing here? ...How are you doing?"

He stepped back with a smaller smile on his own face, running a hand through his hair before he met my eyes again.

"Better. A lot better than the last time you saw me, actually. I'm working with a team that's researching tornados, trying to get better data to better understand them and hopefully make everybody safer as a result. My team's just passing through the area on our way to chase a some big cells developing further West, and we're staying in town for the night. I was really hoping I'd find you here."

"You know, I do have a phone. And I haven't changed my number."

He grinned. "That was going to be Plan C, if Plan A of finding you here and Plan B of finding you at another bar didn't work out."

I just shook my head and laughed.

"You know, there's a lot I could say about that, but I think instead I'm gonna settle for kicking your ass in darts."

"Oh, bring it on. I was watching you, I think you've lost your edge since the last time I saw you. And I can tell you right now, I haven't. I've only gotten better."

"Sure you have, Rivera. Come on, put your money where your mouth is. You start us off."

"If you insist."

Javi leaned in close, hitting me with a charming smile as he took his half of the darts out of my hand, taking his time and letting his fingers linger over mine. For a split second, it was like I was back in grad school again, spending weekends blowing off steam and occasionally working on our project from the back table of a bar. Then, he pulled back, turning his attention to the dartboard again.

"Loser buys drinks," he called as he drew his arm back, then let the dart fly. He hit an 18, but not on any of the score-multiplying rings. I grinned.

"You're on."

****************

Javi and I spent most of the rest of the night together, trading blows in darts and just catching up with each other again. To my delight, it had been like no time had passed since we'd last seen each other. We immediately fell back into the same happy, comfortable routine we'd had for years, and my heart did a happy little flip in my chest every time Javi leaned into me with the smile I loved so much.

We stayed out at the bar together long after my friends had left, hovering at a back table together until they kicked us out. Javi had walked to the bar from his hotel, so I gave him a ride back, the two of us lingering as clearly neither of us wanted to leave. When Javi finally hopped out of the car, it was only after we'd made plans to get together the next day, depending on the tornado situation.

Luckily for Javi and I, the forecast the following morning looked very calm. Javi texted me early, and we made plans to get together for lunch. I was practically walking on air as I drove into town, parking and hopping out to wait for Javi before heading inside. I didn't want to get too far ahead of myself, but having Javi back in my life even for these twelve hours or so had been amazing. I couldn't stop thinking about him, and frankly, I didn't want to.

Unfortunately, my happy little bubble got momentarily popped by a Storm Par truck pulling into the lot. I frowned and narrowed my eyes. They'd shown up in the area recently, swooping in like vultures and taking advantage of tragedy in the community to make a profit. If they were heading into the restaurant for lunch, Javi and I might need to find somewhere more peaceful to hang out.

I glowered at the truck, trying to project as much malice and disapproval as possible. Then the door popped open, and my heart stopped in my chest.

Javi climbed out of the driver's seat. He had on a Storm Par button down. He grinned and waved at me as soon as he saw me, but I couldn't do more than stare back. What the fuck was he doing?

"Hey! Sorry I'm a little late, I had a meeting this morning-"

"With Riggs?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them. Javi stuttered a step, the smile on his face dimming a little as I crossed my arms. He came to a stop in front of me.

"I... what?"

"I think that's my line, Javi. What the hell are you doing? Why are you showing up here in Storm Par shit?"

"I told you I was chasing again-"

"You told me you were here researching tornados! Not conning grieving people out of their family homes!"

Javi took a step back, blinking like I'd physically slapped him across the face. I huffed, trying to get a hold of myself. I'd been almost shouting by the end of my speech, and I really didn't want to throw a scene in front of the restaurant.

"Listen, I get why you're mad," Javi started, holding up his hands like a peace offering. "But Riggs is funding research that's going to allow us to better understand how, why, and when tornados form, which will save lives. We're on our way to the most complete understanding of a tornado ever, and we never would've gotten here without Riggs investing and getting us this tech."

I'd started shaking my head after the second sentence, getting faster and faster until Javi finished speaking. I huffed a disbelieving laugh and took a half-step back towards my car.

"There are other ways to get grant money, Javi. Ways that don't include Riggs."

"Yeah, just ways that include risking everything going into an EF5 that got almost all of my best friends killed."

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. It had been a dream come true when Javi walked into the bar last night, but this was quickly turning into a nightmare. Hurt, anger, saddness, and disappointment formed their own little tornado in my chest, and I barely managed to keep my voice level as I met Javi's eyes again.

"I know what you went through when you lost your friends. I understand why you're making the choices you're making. But you know as well as I do that Riggs is taking advantage of people, actively hurting people in this community, and that all the data you bring him with your research is just going to make it easier for him to swoop in looking to make a profit after disasters, not bringing help before them."

"That's not what we're doing-"

"You might be able to convince yourself of that while you're riding around in your stupid trucks, but unlike you, I was born and raised here, and I never left. I know what's happening, I know the reputation your sponsor has earned for you, and frankly Javi? I want nothing to do with it. Any of it."

Javi huffed in surprise, then scowled.

"I take it to mean that includes me?"

I nodded, slowly at first, then faster and more confidently as I took a few more steps back.

"As long as you're going to keep enabling the vultures? Yeah, that does include you."

He huffed again, a humorless laugh, as he shook his head and shuffled around like he couldn't figure out how to react. It felt like a knife to my heart, but I didn't let myself hesitate before turning around and heading back to my car. I'd sat and cried with neighbors in the wake of tornados, trying to salvage anything we could in the wreckage, before polished looking guys in suits came in and way underpaid for properties, then left without lifting a finger to help a single living thing in the devastated area. If Javi was willing to be a part of that, then he was nothing like the man I'd known and loved before.

****************

I sighed, dropping an armful of books on the kitchen table. I still had a few things to bring up from the storm shelter, but I couldn't stop myself from sinking into the nearest chair. It had been a long few days.

Less than 48 hours after Javi and I had our fight, one of the worst tornados of the year had touched down much too close for comfort. It had done some significant damage to the next town over, although not nearly as bad as it could've been. Exactly what had happened was still a little unclear, but it had been a long time since one had come that close to me. I hadn't been expecting it to affect me, but my knees were actually feeling a little weak.

I took a few moment to focus on breathing deeply, then rallied myself to move the last of my supplies out of the storm shelter. I'd just made it to my feet again when a knock came at the door.

I sighed and honestly debated pretending I wasn't home. But, most likely, it was a neighbor coming to check in or share news from the tornado. I didn't want them to worry, and I probably wouldn't get away with pretending not to be here.

I made it to the door just after another knock came, slightly louder this time. I swung open the door without looking outside first, then froze halfway through the motion when I found Javi staring at me, standing on my doorstep with a six pack of beer held loosely in one hand.

"Thank god you answered. Listen, I'm sorry. You were right. Kate was right. Storm Par... Riggs..." he shook his head, apparently at a loss for words. His hair and clothes were a mess, back to the Javi I'd known in grad school instead of the perfectly-pressed Storm Par rep I'd seen a few days ago. More than just that, though, he looked frazzled. Offbalance, in a way I'd never seen before.

"Javi... are you okay?"

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"Did you hear about the big one?"

"...The tornado that just hit?" He nodded. "Yeah. I've only heard bits and pieces outside of the siren, but yeah. What happened? Is everybody... you said Kate's name earlier."

He quickly reassured me, getting halfway through reaching for my hand before pulling himself back.

"Kate's fine. I convinced her to come out here and help with research, but she almost-" Javi stopped short, closing his eyes for a long, long moment. I frowned, briefly considering what to do next, but it didn't take me long to reach a decision. Javi seemed to be implying he'd ditched Storm Par, but even if he hadn't, I still cared about him. And he clearly needed somebody right now.

"Javi. Why don't you come inside and sit down? Take a breath for a minute?"

He nodded, opening his eyes again and taking a slow, deep breath.

"Thanks."

"Sure thing."

I held the door open, and Javi didn't need me to show him where to go. We'd spent a good part of our relationship hanging out in this house, and it hadn't changed much since then. I followed Javi, letting him decide where he wanted to settle. Eventually, we ended up on the back porch, Javi settling into the bench swing where we'd watched more sunsets than I could count. He set the six pack down by his feet, and after a moment's consideration, I sat down next to him.

Javi didn't look at me as I joined him, his stare still a thousand yards out on the sun that had just started to approach the horizon. I gave him a few moments, then gently reached out to take his hand. His attention immediately snapped to me, his eyes wide with surprise. I gave him a soft smile.

"How long as it been since we spent an evening sitting out here?"

He huffed a laugh. "It's been a long time."

We shared a little smile, then after a moment, I sighed. Javi seemed calmer, at least slightly, and now I needed some answers.

"So... you wanna tell me what brought you here?"

"I came to apologize. You were right about Riggs, and about what's important. I want to be helping people, and it's a long story, but it became clear in the last few hours that I can't do that as long as I'm working with Riggs. I just wish I'd been able to figure it out earlier."

Javi shifted, taking my hand in his and shuffling a little closer to me. The apology was sweet, and I'd missed having moments like this with Javi, but his answer still had a lot of holes.

"I'm glad to hear you're done with Riggs- I mean, I'm assuming that's what you're saying?"

"Yes. Very much yes."

I smiled. "Okay. But maybe you should start a little further back on explaining what happened between now and the last time I saw you. Starting with why you failed to tell me Kate was in town."

"...In my defense, I was planning to tell you at lunch."

I couldn't hold back a snort.

"Fine. Depending on how good the rest of your explanation is, you get a pass on that."

Javi laughed. "Good. Alright, let me think about this..."

It took a while, but eventually Javi managed to walk me through his whole story. It was the serious catchup we'd been planning to have over lunch, but with the added beneift of a private moment together in one of our old favorite places. A lot had happened since Kate had come to town, and she'd had the same kind of fight with Javi as I had, but he'd come around and stepped up when it mattered.

"So, now we're done with Riggs. We're working on a pitch for investors back East right now, actually. Kate's going to present what we've got so far, and hopefully we'll have ethical funding for helping people and nothing else by the end of next month."

I smiled, leaning into Javi. The sky was red from the sunset now, and we'd been holding hands the whole time. Even though we'd gone years without really talking, right now, it felt like nothing had changed.

"I'm glad to hear it, Javi. And I'm so, so glad you're okay."

"Yeah, me too. It was dicey there for a minute, but we're on the other side now."

I leaned a little further into Javi, and after a moment, he raised one arm and stretched it around my shoulders. I sighed.

"You know..." Javi started. He paused and cleared his throat, then shifted a little on the bench before continuing. "Kate and I could actually use some help working on those grant proposals, and maybe some of our future presentations. I know you've always been happy to do your own thing, but... we'd love to have your help if you want to come back to spending more time with us. I would love that."

I leaned back to look Javi in the eye, and I couldn't keep a gigantic smile off my face for even a second.

"Honestly Javi? I would love that. Both to be part of helping you guys finish what you started, helping our community, and... for you. I missed you a lot."

"I missed you too. So much. And I know I'm the one who left, but if you'd be willing to give us another shot... I'll be around for the long haul."

 My heart did a backflip in my chest, and the beaming smile on my face mirrored the feeling.

"I would really love that Javi."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good." He smiled back at me, then started leaning in before stopping short. "Can I kiss you?"

"Absolutely you can."

He grinned, then the two of us closed the distance as one, Javi's hand going to my waist as I tangled one in his hair. It felt right, and we both smiled into the kiss.

"No pressure if this is a little fast," I said, pulling back from Javi just enough to speak, "but... would you like to stay the night tonight?"

"You know I've stayed the night before, right? Regularly. I don't know if it can count as too fast if we've already done it a million times."

"Fair point. So what do you say?"

"I'd love to." He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on my neck and then moving slowly up towards my ear. One of his hands moved to my thigh as he whispered: "I've got a lot to catch you up on if you're going to start writing grant proposals for us. I think we've got an all-nighter coming on."

I laughed, pulling back and swatting at Javi's arm. He just grinned.

"Okay, I'm officially banning work talk until tomorrow morning."

"Honestly, you don't have to tell me twice."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Twisters Taglist: @turtlee-says-rawr

[harryslittlefreakk]

dr. styles

Summary: fratboy!harry is a surgical resident in your class, and he helps you to relieve some stress*

Word count: 1745

Warnings: smutty, oral (f receiving), 18+

A/n: i’ve been watching too much greys anatomy and some kind of lhh/alex karev mash up needed to be written . not proofread!

my masterlist can be found here!

You slumped against the door, too exhausted to even get to bed. Your eyelids were heavy, threatening to close if you blinked for too long. You knew being a surgical resident would be exhausting, but this case was eating at you in a way you rarely experienced. Your patient was having seizures every few hours and you had no idea why. Pages of medical journals were swimming around your mind, but you couldn’t find anything that made any sense.

“D’ya need to be carried to bed, princess?” A voice spoke up from one of the bunks. Harry Styles, your bastard colleague. He was one of the men who got into medicine for the glory, for fun stories to tell women who thought he was a hero. He was one of the most arrogant and selfish people you’d ever met. “No, dickwad,” you retorted, too tired to be truly annoyed. Your feet dragged towards a bed on the opposite side of the room, suddenly hating how small the on-call room felt. You liked to keep a bigger distance, for your professional (and personal) sake. If anything was going to get you cut from this program, it wouldn’t be him.

Harry rolled over to look at you, flipping his shoulder-length hair out of his face. You hated his hair as much as his personality. He was forever whipping it around, running a hand through the top, generally fiddling with it in the hopes that young, impressionable women would appear. He was handsome, sure. If you met him at a bar you’d probably lust over him for the night, but he wasn’t anything to write home about. You groaned, covering your face with your forearm as you felt his eyes on you. “What?” He asked, feigning innocence. You rolled your eyes and turned away, slamming a pillow over your head. You needed to sleep so badly, but between your patient and Harry’s presence, you would need to count at least 2 billion sheep.

You only turned back around when you felt a great big lump weighing down the end of the mattress. “What now?” You snapped, glaring up at the man now sitting on your bed. “Jeez, Anna is pissed today too. There’s too many women in this damn hospital, you guys probably all synced up or something,” Harry scoffed, but kept his ass firmly planted where it was. “Fuck off, Harry.” You tried to kick at him, but he caught your ankle with one quick grab. “Seriously, I’m not in the mood. I can’t figure out this case and I need to sleep. Go away,” you half-shouted, now wishing you’d never even tried to rest.

“Tell me about your patient and I’ll leave you alone,” Harry offered, somewhat dejectedly. You sat up and told him all about her seizures, her medical history, everything you knew. He simply shrugged in response. You rubbed harshly at your temples, breathing a sigh of relief as he stood up. But Harry only stalked over to the door, locked it, and then resumed his position on your bed. “Harry, I’m not joking with you. I really need my rest,” you groaned. He knew exactly how to rub you the wrong way. “You’re a real bitch when you’re tired, y’know that?” he replied, coming to lay down behind you. You pushed yourself as far into the wall as you could, not bothering to even ask what he thought he was doing. “Hey, relax. I’m not trying anything. I just know it’s easier to sleep when someone’s with you,” Harry told you, wriggling his forearm under your head. Your body relaxed slightly at this. He was right. You always slept better with someone next to you, and these beds were hardly known for their comfort.

“She could have an aneurysm, y’know.” You barely heard what Harry had mumbled. Turning around to face him, you asked him to repeat himself. “An aneurysm,” you repeated. “That’s it! She had a fall recently. Didn’t even get checked out but that could explain everything!” You were laughing now, so relieved to at least have an idea of what was going on. “Oh Harry, I could-“

“You could what? Huh?” he smirked, glancing from your eyes to your lips. Harry had never wanted to admit how hot he found you, even at your meanest you were still one of the prettiest girls in the world to him. He stroked a soft hand across your cheek, leaning closer as he muttered, “do this?”

His lips met yours softly at first, waiting for you to shove him away. Instead, you opened your mouth wider for him, slipping your tongue past his teeth. He moaned against your mouth as your tongues battled for dominance, a fire brewing deep in your core. Harry pulled you on top of him, taking handfuls of your soft ass in his hands. “Maybe I should solve your cases more often,” he smirked against your mouth, deepening the kiss. “Maybe you should,” you replied, flipping the two of you around so Harry’s big body was above you. You rushed to pull each others clothes off, separating your mouths for as little time as possible.

You’d never realised what an incredible body he had under his scrubs. A chiselled six pack, tattoos littering his torso, and a deep v-line poking out of his boxers. You traced his inked laurels sitting just above the band of his pants with a careful fingertip, before dragging your hands up his body. Your kisses were hot and heavy now, saliva sitting on both of your swollen bottom lips. Harry pushed you back, pressing a hand to your belly to make sure you were flush with the bed, before hooking a long finger inside of your panties. He looked down at you as if asking for permission, and when you nodded, he slipped a digit inside of your opening. “So wet for me already baby girl,” he moaned, withdrawing his finger and licking it clean of your juices. You squirmed under him, lusting after the way his tongue moved skilfully around his fingers. “Harry,” you panted, “more please.”

“And here I was thinking you didn’t like me.” Harry’s words came out in a singsong tune, his trademark smirk nestled between two dimples. He pulled your panties down your legs, sliding down the bed as his arms moved, before nudging your inner thighs with his nose. Before you’d even fully opened yourself up to him, Harry was getting a taste of your pretty pussy. He lapped at your folds, moaning into you with every flick of his tongue. Your hands found his hair almost instantly, grabbing and clawing for something to hold onto. A loud groan tumbled out of your mouth as his lips moved to suckle on your clit. You’d never imagined someone’s mouth could bring you this much pleasure, let alone this mouth. “Fuck, harry,” you moaned, watching his head dive between your legs. “Gotta be quiet baby,” he reminded you, moving a hand up to brush your mouth. You nodded, whimpering under his fingers. He slipped a digit or two from his free hand under his tongue, moving inside you in a beckoning motion. Your back arched, feeling your core tighten. “I’m gonna come Harry, I’m-“

He shushed you as you panted. “I know baby. I’m gonna get y’there, okay?” His fingers and his tongue worked faster now, the idea of your sweet come on his lips almost too much to bear. Your head lulled back as your body began to shake, thighs closing in around his head. His long moan vibrating against your pussy tipped you over the edge. You pulled a pillow over your mouth as you cried out his name, hips bucking into his hand as he rode you through your orgasm.

You collapsed back into the bed, panting heavily. That was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had. “Needed that, sweet girl?” Harry cooed, hands snaking up your body. His face was covered in your juices, his lips glistening with your come. As you were about to pull him in for a kiss, he flipped you onto your front. “My turn now,” he drawled in your ear, pushing his boxers down his thighs. You heard the familiar snap of a condom before feeling the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. His hand landed a heavy blow on your asscheek before he peppered it with kisses. You were delirious already from the sheer thickness of just his tip. You pushed your hips up towards him fervently, ready to have your mind blown again. Harry pushed into you in one thrust, pulling your asscheeks apart to watch himself enter you. “Fuck Harry, you’re so big,” you whined, his huge cock splitting you in half. He pulled out slow, moaning as he watched himself re-enter your tight pussy. Your walls were clenched around him, pulling and pushing your come along his shaft. The sounds were obscene.

Harry reached around and gripped your throat, his free hand steadying himself on the bed behind you. He fucked into you fast, months of built up annoyance and rivalry shooting pleasure deep inside of you. His cock reached sweet spots you didn’t even know you had, you were full to the brim with him. “You feel so fucking good princess,” he groaned, leaning down to bite at your earlobe. “Fuck, Harry! Stay there, stay there, please,” you begged, the angle of his thick tip perfectly hitting your g-spot. He thrust into you faster and harder, fingers digging into the sides of your throat. Your moans were strained, the tightness sending a rush of blood into your head. Before you could even register it, you were coming again. Soaking his shaft in thick, creamy come. Harry watched it ooze out of you, settling at the base of his cock as you whined and squirmed underneath him. He’d never seen anything so sexy. His pace was slipping now, fucking your come back into you in a slower, sloppier fashion. Feeling your opening tighten around him as you came was too much for Harry to take. He cried your name as he came violently, legs shaking under him. Harry collapsed beside you, rubbing a hand over your lower back, after throwing the condom into the bin.

“Should we get some sleep now, sweet girl?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. You were already snoring sweetly, exhausted after your two big climaxes.

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (46)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N NOT BETA READ. PLEASE EXCUSE THE LATE UPDATE. Holiday weeks have officially passed (boo) so we are hopefully back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Your jaw was clenched as you stared at the building in front of you. The boys all stood behind you, trying to come up with a plan to infiltrate city hall. The only thing on your mind though, was getting your father out and putting Hendricks behind bars where he belonged. 

“How do we get in?” Seonghwa asked. 

“We could use the side window, like last time.” Yunho answered. 

“People would notice us by the time we crawled through.” San said. 

“We could wait until Klein steps out and we kidnap him.” Wooyung suggested. 

Each of the boys were too preoccupied with trying to find a way in, that they hadn’t noticed you march your way through the front doors. Your adrenaline from the anger was kicking in and you had not movement to stop your legs and think about a plan before going in. 

“That would take too long.” Hongjoong shook his head. “Quaid could be gone by then.”

“Angel?”

Your hands pushed the door open, making it slam against a wall. Everyone inside flinched, turning to see you walk further in and towards the back of the building. 

“Hey, what's going on?” A worker asked, quickling trying to block your way. 

“Out of my way.” You glared, finding Klein’s office and throwing the door open. 

“Miss, you can't go in there.” The worker called out, but you had shut the door in his face before he had the chance of walking in.

“Stop her!” Someone shouted on the other side of the door. 

However you had moved to turn the key, quickly locking it. Turning on your heel you faced Klein at his desk with Hendricks sitting in front. Hendricks crossed his arms as he took you in, clenching his jaw, while Klein was confused over the whole thing. 

“What is the meaning of this!?” Klein sputtered. “Who are you!?”

“Why don't you ask your dear friend Hendricks.” You turned your stare to the sheriff, turning your nose up.

“Serving men well?” Hendricks asked, eyes boring into you. 

“Arresting innocents ease your mind?” You sneered back, glaring at the older man.

“Excuse me—” Klein tried to put in. 

“This doesn't concern you.” Hendricks scolded the mayor, making you glare harder. 

“Don’t speak to him that way.” You shot back.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Hendricks stood from the chair, moving into your personal space. 

You took a step back, an unsettling feeling falling into your chest from how much the man wanted to intimidate you. It wasn’t that you were trying to get away from him. It was the you wanted room to throw a punch if need be. 

Before you could say anything more, something pushed the window behind Klein open harshly. Mingi’s glare was pointed into the room, hands gripping onto the window sill. He quickly lifted himself into the room, moving aside to let all the other boys in. 

Klein gasped out and moved away from his desk, trying to get away from the 8 boys who were slowly crawling in. When Hongjoong stepped through, his harsh glare turned to everyone in the room before stopping at you. 

“Did you really have to lock the door?” Yeosang asked you, sighing in disappointment. 

“Get back!” Hendricks glared, quickly pulling out his gun from his holster. 

When the boys all heard the click of it, Yeosang was quick to put a hand out in front of you while the others moved to get closer to your side. You heard Klein gasp as Jongho and Seonghwa pushed him out of the way to reach you. He placed a hand on his chest, looking appalled at the boys. 

Hongjoong stood on the other side of the room though, quickly taking out his own pistol aiming it back at Hendricks. “Think you're the only one with a gun?” He asked with a tilt of his head. 

You sighed deeply before softly moving Yeosang’s arm down so you could move forward. With the boys all crowded at one side of the room, Hongjoong stood at one corner with Klein at the opposite. Hendricks was still by the chair he had stood from, gun aimed directly at Hongjoong. 

Your lips twitched and lips pursed. “This isn't a grudge match.” You glared. “Put your weapons down.” You added, looking between the two men. 

“Princess, you're testing my patience.” Hongjoong answered you, only giving you a side glance. 

“Put it down, Hongjoong.” You demanded again. 

Hongjoong clenched his jaw as his eyeskept going back and forth between you and Hendricks. The man was not lowering his gun which put him on edge. But the strong pointed look you gave him made him click his tongue. He slowly lowered his gun. 

“Not a smart move.” Hendricks mocked, flexing his arm as if he was about to shoot again. 

The boy all flinched, moving to duck but you were quick to pick something off Klein’s desk and swing it towards Hendrick’s hand. The glass of whiskey hit his wrist making him drop his gun in a grunt. 

Hongjoong quickly dove forward to take the weapon from him as everyone else looked around in astonishment. With him now disarmed, Yunho and Jongho both moved forward to restrain Hendricks.

“You shoot, everyone outside those doors come running in.” You calmly tell Hendricks, standing as if you hadn’t just thrown something at him. 

“You really think they'd believe some criminals over their sheriff.” He sneered, rubbing at his wrist where glass had cut just a bit. 

“They will with the proof of your involvement with Strickland.” You pulled out some envelopes from your pockets, dropping them onto Klein’s desk. The mayor raised his eyebrows, looking over the browning papers with curiosity. 

“Look familiar?” You continued. 

“What are those stupid papers going to do?” Hendricks shook his head. “Strickland is just a town that helps people.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Not with the evidence we have from Quaid's home.” Yeosang put in.

Hendricks glared at the boy, his lips turning up. 

“Mayor Klein.” Hongjoong stepped in, leaning over the desk to look at the mayor directly. “Why have you been raising taxes?” He asked. 

“To help the people—” The old man sputtered.

“Don't bullshit us.” Mingi threatened, coming to stand behind him. 

Klein began to tremble as he had to look up at the outlaw, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with an answer. “Quiad told me Strickland would send people down to help reform the city! Make it bigger than Aurora.” He shook his head. 

“It was a lie.” Seonghwa said. “They're making drugs to turn people into emotionless people.”

“No, that's not true.” Klein shook his head, looking at all of you bewildered. 

“It's in the papers.” You told the man, sliding the envelopes closer for him to read. 

The mayor didn’t waste time quickly opening the letters, reading over Quaid and Hendricks handwriting. His face slowly morphed from confusion to frustration as he read over more and more. He threw some down before going over other ones–all reading the same thing. 

“Don't listen to them!” Hendricks yelled. “They're outlaws! They took your money.” He grunted when Jongho pulled his hair back, shoving the man down to the floor and onto his knees. 

“And where have you been getting yours?” You sneered, turning around to face him. “Those boots look a bit too clean to me.” You said. 

“Quaid lied.” Klein spoke to himself. 

“They're feeding you lies.” Hendricks tried to defend himself again. 

“Hendricks!” Klein snapped. “It's all here! Everything!” The mayor growled. “Even yours. I can't—I can't continue this.” He throw all the papers onto the desk, slamming his hands onto the wood as he looked furious. 

“You traitor!” Hendricks growled.

He was quick in shoving Jongho and Yunho off his arms. The two boys grunted as the man’s elbows caught into their noses. Your eyes went wide as you saw the man lunge for you, moving your hands behind you to find something to use as defense. However before he could get to you, San was quick to rush forward and tackle Hendricks to the ground. 

The old man had no chance with how much larger San was. He seemed to know what he was doing because the moment he got Hendricks on the ground, his was swinging away at the man’s face. The boys took a few seconds before finally rushing forward to pull San off the man who was starting to bleed profusely. 

“San!” You cried out, rushing forward to help him.

You pulled his face to look at you, wiping away the smudges he had on his cheeks. You smiled softly, showing him that you appreciated his help. Turning back towards the old sheriff on the ground, rolling in pain, you crouched to get closer to him. 

“Your biggest downfall was thinking you could get away with it.” You told him. 

“Whore.” He spit in your face, you flinching a bit from the blood. 

Mingi and Wooyoung held San back again. You aggressively wiped at the spit, flinging it back into his eyes. “Rot in hell, Sheriff.” You whispered. 

“Guards! Seize him! He's a traitor to this city!” Klein called out, moving from behind his desk.

You got back up and gave Hednricks a small kick with your boot. Scoffing, you turned to look back up at the boys, a smile over taking your features as you took them all in. 

“Not gonna lie.” Seonghwa nodded. “I got a boner.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

[betterfettered]

Hello hello we'll be back to our regularly scheduled obey me programming soon but I'm so down bad for blade from honkai star rail right now so I wrote a real quick little thingy about him.

Your yandere kidnaps you

(Gn!reader x AMAB!yandere, please let me know if reader is gendered)(noncon)(violence against reader)(kidnapping)(forced affection)(masc rage)(plus size reader 💖🫡)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)

Part 2

[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

You thought your master’s bondman was not just cute, but also harmlessly so. “Blade”, he called himself, which you thought was so melodramatic that you could not help but smile whenever you happened to see him. On greeting him, you bent your knee and lowered your face as a maid ought to, but surreptitiously peeked at him from beneath your fringe and pressed your lips together to hide a laugh at the stilted way it made him hold himself, the apathy in his expression stirred up into a vague discomfort. For all the chagrin his name heralded, you could not help but see an awkward man who liked heaps of sugar and a touch of salt in his tea, one who would nudge your arm with his knuckles before demanding in monotone that you reaffix his barrette and shivering when your hands brushed his scalp. A hissy cat, a moody kid with overgrown bangs – you were fond of him, and nowhere near as scared as you should have been.

In fact, that lack of fear made it hard to understand what was happening when he first locked you away. His expression not budging out of its typical hollowness, he simply wrapped his hand around your arm and began to lead you; you followed, as a servant did, through halls and down many stairs. You didn’t question it when he led you to a part of the compound you had never been to until a door shut behind you, hard, and you turned in time to watch him slide a bar into place to lock it. When he faced you again, it was to glare down his nose at you with his typical emptiness, this time with more intensity than you were used to.

There was a brief pause, then he raised his hand to your cheek, letting his fingertips ghost just above your skin until you raised your own hand to push his away.

“I o-ought to be going,” you said, taking a step back. “I’ve plenty of work to do.”

That was not the right answer. This time he seized your wrist, hard enough to make you hiss a little, and dragged you further through the hall you had been sealed in. It was hard to focus with your heart pounding so hard, but you tried to scan your surroundings to see where you were and only recognized that you were somewhere dark, poorly lit by dim bulbs and no windows, with his feet leaving prints in the dust telling you that no one had been down here for quite some time in a way that makes your stomach drop, because you have a bad feeling about anything he could need privacy for–

Your fears were validated as he pulled you into a tiny room, some defunct servant’s quarters you’d imagine, containing nothing but a small bed covered in threadbare sheets and a rickety nightstand. Panic overwhelmed you, and you immediately began to struggle against him like mad, your chest seizing up so hard that it took you a while to realize that that loud noise you could hear was you screaming, apologizing, promising to do anything else that he wanted if he just let you leave.

He had been uncomfortable trying to approach you gently, unsure how to do it with his hands reforged specifically for killing and only killing. Subjugation, however, was his only nature, and once you began to act like prey, he allowed his instincts to take over. The nails of your flailing hand caught his face but seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever; he wrenched you forward by your arm hard enough that you stumbled and then kicked your feet out from beneath you while still holding your arm so that he could press you onto your back as you fell. It was relatively easy to pin you after he did that, and he did so by planting his knee downwards into the soft flab of your stomach, driving it in a little deeper when you tried to squirm away and loosing a knife from his belt to remove your clothing with.

He fucked you like a punishment, pushing into you with no foreplay and holding you down by both of your wrists as he thrusted into you hard enough to make your fat thighs clap against his skin. He watched you rather emotionlessly, unmoved by the tears pouring from your eyes and down your temples into your hairline or the whimpers that occasionally escaped your lips despite how hard you were pressing them together. Wracked with pain and with humiliation at your body suddenly being so exposed and shock at how things had turned bad so quickly, how you were suddenly being pinned under him like this used like some disposable toy, you looked just beyond the side of his head and traced cracks in the ceiling while you waited for him to finish. The room had been quiet but for the hoarse creaking of the bed, so you were surprised when you suddenly heard a grunt from him: he freed one of your wrists to bring the back of his hand to his blushing face, covering his mouth as he finished, his eyes growing distant as he stared down at you and his cock pulsating inside of you, making you feel sick.

You expected him to fix his clothes and leave you there, back to his same nonplussed demeanor, but instead he continued watching you the moment that he came back to his senses. As though that would make him vanish, you squeezed your eyes shut and only felt what happened next. He grabbed hold of the bottom of your face with his horribly cold hands, the bandage wrapped around it feeling clammy with his sweat, and then his lips pressed onto yours and his fringe tickled your forehead. You recoiled in shock and disgust, retreating backwards into the mattress and turning your face away from him, wiping your mouth before you could stop yourself. You flinched, expecting to feel the bruising of his hands roughly handling you again, but instead he lied down on you a little gently, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Wrap your arms around me,” he commanded.

It took you a second, but eventually you complied.

“Now say that you love me.”

“I--… I can’t,” you whispered back.

“You will. Say it.”

It took a long time for you to finally comply, and to his credit he waited in your embrace without moving as he awaited you saying it; eventually, your disgust was outweighed by your worry that he would never pull out of you and leave if you did not obey, so eventually you did finally whisper it into his hair, tears welling up in your voice as you pried the words from your throat.

After what felt like an eternity, he eventually left, but you were not allowed to because he locked the door from the outside when he went. In fact, you were kept in that tiny room so long that you lost track of time. You tried to measure your days by the showers you took in the adjoined bathroom, or the times you’d get hungry and eat some of the food you’d been left the day before, but you could not stop the time from blending together into slop no matter what you did.

It was easiest to measure time in when he suddenly reappeared to see you.

The first few days, upon just the sound of him unlocking the door keeping you shut in here, you would shake uncontrollably and fix your eyes to the ground. Once he entered, you tried to put as much distance between him and you that you could, though that was only a few steps or so. That ruined feeling, the unfamiliar slickness and soreness between your legs would rush back over you in memory and you’d feel overwhelmed to the point of dizziness, your trembling jaw barely able to form “please don’t” as he stared you down impassively. The second or third time you did this, he lost patience with it and dragged you kicking and screaming back over to the bed, but this time he only lied down beside you and rested his head on your chest, then demanding the same two things: to put your arms around him and say that you love him. You obeyed, sobbing, but sooner rather than later you got used to your new routine and became proficient, or comfortable even, in the new ritual of greeting him.

“Welcome back,” you’d tell him when he entered, going over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying him back and forth. Then you’d say you missed him or you were thinking of him or you were happy to see him. You started to wonder if that was actually true: he was your only human interaction, and after (what felt like) a few weeks you felt almost excited to see him, especially when he bought you things you requested, like wine and puzzles and lube and books. You felt like you could kiss him when he brought you a video game from his companion, though he seemed not to be sure what it was.

Well, more like you could kiss him and want to, because you often kissed him, actually. After greeting him you often led him, still emotionless as he always was, over to the bed where the two of you would lie down in the same position, his head on your chest and your arms around him. When you could stomach it, you’d roll over onto him and press your lips to his and moan into his mouth and grind on him, doing your very best to arouse him. Your hope was that if you preempted his lust with seduction of your own, maybe the sex would be easier, maybe you would have fewer nightmares that woke you up screaming. Strangely, your success with this strategy was variable: often times, he allowed your ministrations and then let you ride him until he came, his hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise while his other hand covered part of his face. Other times, he seemed to grow overwhelmed with your affections, flipped you back over and rested his head on you again, burying his reddened face into your chest so you could only see the top of his head. You’d be confused, not sure what to do, and he’d quietly command you to do the same thing he always did: wrap your arms around him and tell him you love him.

Still, no matter what you did, you could not escape that often he wanted to hurt you. You could predict it based on how much blood he was covered in when he visited you or how he seemed to bristle away from your touch, but most reliably he was in this violent mood when he woke up from nightmares of his own, seemingly gripped with unwavering rage that drove him to want to destroy, whether that be furniture or himself or you. If you were unlucky and he went for you first, you’d be awoken by him striking you, hitting your face or dragging you by your hair or roughly tearing your clothes from your body. You learned better than fighting back quickly, as that only made him angrier, and so you just tried to shield your face and go somewhere else in your mind until it was over. Sometimes he’d fuck you dry, hard enough that you bled a little after, other times he’d hit you all over your body until it hurt to move, other times still he’d twist your arms painfully behind your back, lean into your ear, and tell you exactly how he was going to kill you in gruesome detail that made you want to vomit. He only seemed satisfied when your tears had run out and you stopped moving, overwhelmed by pain and despair, and then the room would fall into silence but for the sound of his panting, slowing breath.

After these rages were the only times he’d hold you and tell you that he loved you in a way you knew was meant to be comforting but only sounded flat and disturbed.

Eventually, he let you go (later you learned that it had been around two and a half months after you’d been captured). It was unceremonious – he simply left one day and did not shut the door behind him. It took you nearly an hour to summon the courage to leave, as you could not help but fear that this was some sort of trap, that he’d be waiting just beyond the threshold to punish you if you left. In the end, though, it was not, and after some walking you found yourself back in a central corridor of the compound with business as usual happening around you. It was hard to comprehend how other people were talking, laughing, cleaning, working without bone deep, paranoid fear strangling them. You’d dreamed of your freedom for a long time, of the relief you’d feel to be out of his clutches, but there was no relief to be had.

You could not sleep with any semblance of normalcy after getting out, so you often lied awake at night and wondered why he had gotten rid of you. Had he grown tired of you, bored? Had he moved on to someone else? Had he seen that there was something within you that he had irreparably broken that made you not worth using any more? Part of you worried about this so endlessly because if he was angry that you failed him, you needed to figure that out so you could prepare for him to return in one of his rages.

But another part of you, one that you could not bear to acknowledge, had grown used to making him and his comfort the center of your universe, and now felt lost without him. You wished that he had just kept you until you died.

[writingfromabox]

Alone on Thanksgiving? (adamsapple)

Working on a fic using this ad as a prompt because all I can think of is Adam making this post:

Not done yet but I think if I manage to finish it, I’ll put it on AO3. What I have written under the cut:

Adam had placed the ad out of sheer perverse humor, absolutely certain that no one would bother to call him on it. For a short while, he achieved some internet fame as people passed it around on social media, obviously getting a kick out of the idea. He’d joked around with the girls at the bar and tattoo parlor he worked at, saying his Thanksgiving plans were all wrapped up and this was the way he’d be swimming in pussy by the end of the month.

Obviously, the whole thing was meant as a fucking joke. So, when he got the email from a Charlotte Morningstar, he’d been tempted to send her back something rude about her reading comprehension. Like, was it not clear that this was comedy? The fuck. 

He showed it to Lute, who was in the middle of sketching out something for a client: a lion, holding a dagger in its mouth. Her skilled fingers easily traced out the minute details of the animal’s mane, her mouth set into a frown in concentration. The frown slipped into a wicked smirk as she read the email, her eyes lighting up slightly. 

“What’s the problem?” she asked, setting her pencil down and giving him an expression that attempted innocent curiosity. Lute’s face wasn’t made for that, and her sharp amusement made her look like a cat waiting on a mouse to walk into a trap. “I thought this was your big holiday plan. I thought you were looking forward to all the ladies with daddy issues and the ‘fuck you dad’ sex.”

Going to Lute for sympathy for his bad decisions never turned out right, but for some reason he kept trying it. He just grumbled and put the phone back in his pocket.

“Anyway, why not do it?” Lute asked, turning back to her sketch. “It’s free dinner. Your ass doesn’t have family to go to on Thanksgiving. I’m too busy this year to do our usual ‘neither of us can cook’ dinner. You’re extremely good at being an annoying asshole, why not turn it into a fun way to get free turkey?”

Adam folded his arms and tried to be more insulted about that accusation, but the wheels in his head were already turning. Unfortunately. It wasn’t even as though this would be the worst decision he’d made on a holiday, really. That would have been the time one of his biker friends convinced him to dress like the grinch and steal their ex-girlfriend’s Christmas tree. 

The night had ended in mayhem, with the tree sparking a minor electrical fire and Adam ending up tossing it into the outdoor pool. And then ripping off chunks of flaming grinch suit, screaming, as his accomplice hosed him down. 

Apparently, the ex-girlfriend’s kid still had nightmares from watching it out his bedroom window. 

Compared to that shitshow, this would only be a minor sort of shenanigan. Probably something he wouldn’t walk away with a property damage felony with. It wasn’t technically illegal to pick fights by antagonizing someone’s probably elderly, decrepit dad. Unless he, like, actually punched him. And Adam had some amount of self control as long as he didn’t dip into the recreational beverages. 

“Well? Figured out what you’re doing yet?” Lute asked, looking up at him from her spread out stack of sketches. Someone seemed to have ordered one of a goth bear holding a chainsaw. The holidays always brought out the weird shit.

He shrugged, mulling it over. The girl had a whole screed laid out, with a father who was being a dick about her attempts to house and reform former criminals. She’d gone on some rant about the program itself and he zoned out every time he tried to read it, the whole thing seemed like she was some kind of charity ball debutante getting pissy about her dad giving her some hard truths.

Not like it mattered either way to him, in the end, as long as he got a dinner. Adam would be lying if he said it didn’t sound like fun to fuck with someone and get rewarded for it. 

And so it came to pass that Adam decided to agree to be the fake dinner date of this do-gooder princess for Thanksgiving, with about the same amount of logical thought that went into his usual decision making. Which was to say, absolutely none. 

[phaticserpent]

Hello! I know you are very busy so if you don’t want to write this I don’t mind at all! :) But if you can could you please write a Ultron x reader where the reader takes the place of black widow in the scene right after Clint flys off with Visions body and the same thing kinda happens, like we wake up Ultron tells his sob story but something changes in the reader where before they felt only bad things towards Ultron but know they feel so much sympathy for him especially after he says “I don’t have anyone else” because the reader knows what that feels like. You can take it from there wherever your imagination takes you! Have an amazing day/night!❤️

Hi hi! Yeah finals have been really kicking me down, but thank you for this prompt! I've done something similar if you haven't read it

Prompt 1 , Prompt 2

With a start, you woke up, delirious; and you glanced around in confusion.

"....I wasn't sure you'd wake." A voice came. Confused, you turned to the source of the voice to see Ultron. "I hoped you would, I wanted to show you something.....I don't have anyone else."

You inched closer, your heartstrings pulled at the sadness and desperation. "W-wait.....Ultron, please." Your voice was husk and rasp, so you swallowed your spit. Ultron paused his activity, presumably walking away for a split second to pick something up. Cautiously and slowly, he headed towards you; a little wary and afraid, you inched backwards.

".....I'm not going to hurt you." Ultron assured. He had a cup in his hand and placed it a couple of inches from you. "I don't want to hold you from the bare necessities. I'm not that evil."

You reached out for the cup, eyeing him carefully before drinking the entire cup. Then setting the empty cup down, "Thank you."

".....There we go, you sound better with your voice." Ultron nodded solemnly and your face flushed. He grabbed the handle for the door and gently closed it, leaving you to stare at him as he walked away.

"......I suppose we're alike then." You sighed. "I never belonged with the Avengers....I think they pitied me more than anything."

"Ah," Ultron started. "I guess that makes the two of us. Except, they had higher expectations from me that were too much."

".....I don't know anything about what Stark does up there." You peered through the bars. "Do you mind if I ask why?"

"......I don't." Ultron sighed, pausing his activities to meet your gaze. Although his eyes were piercing, filled with hatred but also a look you know all too well. "He created me as a peacekeeping program....wanted me to bring peace to a violent world. I splurged through the internet to find everything he was responsible for."

"Oh....." You slumped against the metal bars. "I'm sorry, burdening another to fix it all....that's a selfish thing to do and ask for."

"You....understand." Ultron stared at you, his eyes searching in your confused eyes.

"....I mean....yeah. It would be the equivalent of a person raising a child just to burden them with selfish gains or just for care." You shrugged. "I think you have every reason to be upset and angry.....but I don't think the way you're doing it is.....pardon me, morally correct."

Ultron blinked at you before letting out a soft chuckle. "You have some galls to point that out, and rather directly as well."

"Thank you." You smiled. "I try, I guess. Or don't, I don't know."

".....I can never understand humans. Or....I understand them but the concept is just....." He waved his hand around, a signal you knew too well of searching for a word.

"Difficult? Complicated? Bizarre?"

"Heh, something like that."

"....I wouldn't recommend racking your brain trying to understand us or figuring humans out. We don't know either, so if we don't know, how would you? What I'm saying is, don't stress it." You smiled. "But if you want, I can help with the human side. I may not be the 'ideal' human citizen.....but I've dealt with people a lot more than the Avengers."

"How can I trust you?"

You leaned your head back, before cracking your neck. "You don't have to. I just want to help you, but if you feel like I'm not to be trusted, you can keep me locked up. I am being genuine." You smiled. "Don't keep be locked up for too long though, humans like to be outside."

Ultron barked out a laugh. "Of course. I wouldn't do that, it's rather inhumane. Plus, it is pointless to run so I see your point."

You cracked a grin. "So? What do you say?"

Ultron slowly walked over to where you were, staring down at you before unlocking the door. You smiled and held out your hand, gesturing for him to shake it. He took the hint and shook your hand.

Smiling up at him, "You probably already know, but nice to meet you. I'm (Y/N)."

[yellowocaballero]

smth from the ncau? whichever one you're most interested in talking about

I want to finish the no chip thing so fucking bad. The fics are so fucking good and I need people to see them. It is definitely going to happen, I just needed a break from it. I think I need a break from writing right now in general. Kinda want a break from a lot of things. Anyway!

A lot of the stories are focused around why good people do bad things. What makes somebody a bad person, and what can make them change. How atrocities happen, why fascism takes root, how it spreads. The methods in which we justify cruelty to ourselves.

Here's a scene from the Rex story that talks about it. There's a lot going on subtextually, but hopefully that subtext is clear. Some of it won't be clear until you read Neyo's story.

Sorry for making all of your faves terrible people. It's, uh, complicated.

Original sin under the cut. It was kind of hard rereading Rex in this scene - he's so painfully naive.

“Lord Vader and I are best friends!”

Ponds scoffed, biting the bottlecap off and spitting it across the room. It hit Bly on the head, which had taken a lot of practice. “Natborns and clones can’t be friends. You sound delusional.”

“But clones can succeed at their missions,” Rex said gleefully. He opened another beer bottle - with his hand, like a normal person - and passed it to Cody without looking. Cody tossed aside his empty beer bottle and began drinking the new one. “And baby, I am killing this one. He told me that he trusts me more than anybody, you know that? Me, Lord Vader’s trusted confidante! Am I good at my job or what?”

“Or what,” Ponds muttered. 

Rex wasn’t entirely certain whose fault the clone bar was, but he wanted to shake their hand all the same. Almost no natborns even knew that it existed. The bar itself was boarded up like a nun’s underwear, and it was sealed tighter than an airlock. No natborns in, no natborns out. No clones in without leaving uproariously drunk. The bartenders were droids who had been programmed to secrecy, serving a permanently open bar. One of the droids could even cook, barely. 

Literally nobody knew the logistics of the thing or who had created it. It was one of the galaxy’s infinite little mysteries. Fox had once off-handedly mentioned that he knew. Then he hadn’t answered any follow-up questions. Then he fell asleep. Sometimes Rex really hated Fox, but only in the way you hated an existential crisis.

The bar area itself was robust, but it was uncouth for officers to get drunk in front of the masses. That was why there were a series of back rooms, similar to the little rooms for that karaoke thing the Mandalorians enjoyed so much. Rex and his honorary batchmates commandeered one and drank themselves into oblivion whenever possible. It was difficult to rope Cody and Fox into joining them, but Rex had blackmail on Cody and Wolffe usually just picked Fox up and dumped him into a speeder. Cody had been uncharacteristically eager to join them today, but Rex knew why. 

“Hey, I think we’re all killing it.” Wolffe kicked his heels up on the table cluttered with five different varieties and twenty different brands of alcohol. “I can’t believe I thought that fooling these morons might be difficult. Prime always made them out to be these telepathic and psychic demons who’ll always be trying to catch us out. But it’s like stealing a bolt from a protocol droid! Couldn’t be easier!”

“Speak for yourself.” Ponds was drinking almost as fast as Cody today - alright, not even almost, but he was trying. He looked haggard - alright, not nearly as haggard as Cody, but he was getting there. “Windu keeps treating me like I’m some puzzle he needs solving. He won’t stop asking questions about stupid shit. Like, how we were made, or why the Kamino don’t legally exist. Who cares!”

“He’s asking too many personal questions, right?” Wolffe said sympathetically. “Mine keeps on asking about my favorite fruit. Couldn’t believe I’d never eaten a fruit before.”

Ponds grunted, thumbing open a bottle. “We have not had a personal conversation so far and I hope we never have them. He’ll never discover that I have a personality. None of his damn business.”

“How are you going to kill him?” Rex asked, interested. “I’ve seen Windu in action. He’s just insane. I didn’t know humans could do what he does. No offense, but are you actually up to do that?”

“Of course I am,” Ponds snapped. But something about his tone made Rex think that he’d been asking himself the same questions. “I have plans in place. It’s thousands of us against one of him. I don’t care how many backflips he can do, one man can’t defeat a battalion of the Emperor’s elite.”

Fox, who had been sitting in the corner staring blankly at the wall, finally blinked. “Emperor’s going to take care of him personally.”

“Thank fuck.”

Wolffe snorted, taking a long swig of his whiskey. “Glad Ponds’ll have help. The Wolfpack won’t need it. You’ll never believe how trusting Koon is, it’s insane. He’s always out there, like, you know -” Wolffe waved an absent hand, summarizing the entirety of Plo Koon in a vague gesture. “Helping and being nice and giving advice and telling us how much we matter. How special we are or how much he cares about us. He’s practically asking for that knife in the back. Boy, it’s gonna feel great when the last thing he sees is me.”

“Why?” Rex asked blankly. 

“Because,” Wolffe said promptly. Then he stopped. Then he took a sip of his beer. Then he coughed. “Because he’s a damn dirty Jedi and I’m honored to kill every single one, alright? It’s not complicated. Fuck you.”

“Literally what did I even do -”

Bly, sitting on the floor with a beer cradled in his lap like a gap-toothed toddler, popped one of the nutty gelatin sweets in his mouth. “Are we talking about our Jedi? That’s cool. Guess what I’ve been doing with my Jedi?”

“We know,” everybody chorused. Even Fox.

Seriously. He had blown up the groupchat. At length. Nonstop. It was fucking horrendous. If Rex never had to hear another word about Aayla Secura again it would be too soon. Ponds was already begging Fox to move up the time table and let him take Secura out now. Save them all from Bly’s incessant fawning.

Rex pointed at Bly, letting the beer slosh in his bottle. “You’re gross. I still can’t believe you’re into that stuff. There’s too many fluids.”

“The fluids are awesome,” Bly boasted. He popped another sweet in his mouth, masticating it with a shit-eating grin on his face. “You guys have got to try this shit out. It’s insane. Better than spice. When you finish you feel like a total god. And she says I’m great at it. Apparently clone stamina is awesome.”

“Shut up shut up shut up,” Ponds said. 

“Why are you even doing it?” Rex asked, fascinated. He opened up another beer bottle and passed it to Cody, who dropped his empty one on the floor. “You are gonna get in such massive trouble when somebody who gives a shit finds out.”

“Uh, fun? There’s literally nothing funner than sex. It’s totally worth it. And it’s advantageous, right?” Bly kicked back against the wall, crossing his hands behind his head and grinning. “I’ll wake up in bed next to her. I’ll get the order. I’ll snap her neck in a second. Like Wolffe said, it’s like stealing a bolt from a protocol droid. So when you think about it, it’s all for the mission. I’m like a super spy.”

Cody glared at Bly, bleary eyed. “So why’s she fucking you then?”

“She’s totally in love with me,” Bly boasted. “She’s head over heels. Like I said: super spy!”

He glanced at Fox, who was still counting ceiling tiles. He quickly looked down at the plate of sweets, popping another one in his mouth. 

“It’s called strategy, Ponds.” Wolffe grabbed a bottle of whiskey, unscrewing it with one thumb. “Stay frosty with Windu all you want. But us forward-thinking guys know that you gotta get close to get access to ‘em. With me and Plo - Koon, Plo Koon, his trust is the greatest weapon I got. So even if it looks like I’m getting close - it’s all a ruse, right?”

Wolffe glanced at Fox. Fox was still avidly counting ceiling tiles. 

“Right,” Bly said quickly. He looked at Fox from the corner of his eye, before looking away. “It’s part of a clone’s job to get close. So we can stab them in the back. Better.”

“Can’t relate.” Rex smugly passed Cody another beer. “Vader and I are actually tight. His trust’s my mission, and I’d never betray somebody as powerful and important as Lord Vader. Cody’s in the same boat.” Rex grinned, elbowing Cody. Who, despite all odds, was not drunk yet. “Eh? You’re really killing your mission for Lord Vader too, aren’t you?”

Cody was too dead inside to acknowledge his existence. Boy, that eyebrow twitch had sure gotten permanent. 

Bly perked up, shooting big bantha eyes at Cody. “Mission? Are you having sex with Qui-Gon Jinn too, Cody?”

“I would rather fucking kill myself -”

Cody’s upcoming rant about how much he detested Qui-Gon fucking Jinn - and, to be fair, the guy was the most insufferable Jedi of all time - the door to the private room thumped open. 

Two clones walked directly inside. The occupants of the room froze. The invaders halted. 

Bacara surveyed the room, judging them all against his gimlet eye. He jerked a thumb at the door. “Out.”

“Why the fuck do we have to get out?” Wolffe screeched. “You’re the one who walked in here!”

Bacara and Neyo glanced at each other. They had one of their absolutely fucking inscrutable microexpression conversations. Then Bacara turned back towards them, sipping his beer. “The other rooms are occupied and we want this one. Git.”

Ponds and Wolffe immediately flipped them off. Rex would have, but he was a bit too scared of both of them to do that. Cody shot them his best unimpressed look, but that was his equivalent of flipping you off. Fox was seemingly asleep.

But Bly just perked up, holding out a beer to Neyo. “Hey, ori’vode, it’s been a while! We invited you to Jango’s remembrance day event, but you missed it!”

“We didn’t want to come,” Neyo said, straight faced. 

“Well, you’re welcome to join us now! We got plenty of booze, and it’s been forever since we’ve all been in the same room!” Bly stopped short. “Wait, why are we all in the same room?”

“Because there’s that giant-ass conference we’re having about the deployment of the new batch of clones,” Cody said flatly. “All of the officers and top generals not currently stationed on a planet were recalled to Coruscant so we can distribute the new forces.” Everybody stared at him. “Do none of you read a fucking briefing?”

“Only if you write them,” Wolffe said.

“As if you read Fox’s briefings.”

“He gets Stone to write those.”

Bacara sneered down at them, undoubtedly intending to press the ‘everybody get out just because I walked in’ matter. He totally would. Worst part was, they all had so much leftover terror of Bacara that they probably would evacuate. They would just go find a different private room and kick out the officers in there, who were undoubtedly lower ranked than them. Then those officers would find another room and etc. Eventually the lowest ranked officers would be SOL. This was the function of clone society. 

But Neyo just squinted at everybody, and then at the large plate of whimsically ordered sweets on the table. He walked over, grabbed a fistful of their food, dropped himself on the couch, and started eating it. It was immediately understood by everybody that Neyo would leave once he had eaten all of their sweets. Bacara, who was unbelievably indulgent of every single whim Neyo ever had in his entire life, sighed and sat down on the arm of the couch next to him. He held out a hand. Ponds hurriedly put a glass of whiskey in it. 

“You kids blow your missions yet?” Bacara asked. Everybody made faces. “You all got stupid important Jedis and jobs, right? Typical. I can’t believe you runts control most of the GAR.”

Wow, Rex did not miss how incredibly condescending Bacara was. He really thought he was as good as an Alpha, just because he had been trained personally by Alpha-17 and was probably the most insane badass in the entire army. Alpha-17 beat him out on kill factor but Bacara always won on bloodlust. 

Bacara and Neyo were the only survivors of Batch 1. The Alphas had been prototypes, but Batch 1 had been pilot tests: a much smaller group than the standard model Batch 2s. Batch 2s were still being manufactured, but apparently they were working on the next physiological model for the Batch 3s. Smaller decanting groups of five-to-six clones were still called batchmates, and they tended to be closer than the rest. Cody’s batch had apparently been decanted from entirely different batchmate groups, all among the very first decanted out of Batch 2, but they had been slotted into the command track so young that they just called each other batchmates. 

Most of the Batch 1s had been on Geonosis or the very early fights. Which had all been catastrophic losses. Nobody had known what they were doing. Apparently a ton hadn’t even survived Kamino. Rex once heard off-handedly that the Batch 2s had been made to be much more mentally resilient than the Batch 1s. Which tracked. They had probably all been too unstable to live. 

“I’m the right hand man of Lord Vader,” Rex said quickly. “The Emperor -”

“Shut it, don’t care.” Bacara relaxed in his seat, kicking his heels up on the low table and scattering empty beer bottles. “This entire army’s an embarrassment. What are we, fifteen months since Geonosis? Not even halfway in? And the discipline of the men’s gone to shit. Can you believe I heard some shinies talking to each other about their Jedi was cool?”

“Ugh,” Ponds said, picking at his thumbnail. “Shinies, am I right?”

“We’ve had three deserters in the last three months.” Bacara was working himself up into a rant, anger steadily growing. Fox blinked. “Three! There should be zero deserters! We weren’t built to abandon our posts. Some of the men are out there getting cold feet. Because their Jedi are nice.”

“Maybe they’re just surprised.” Cody strained to take another beer from Rex’s regretful forbidding grasp. He was doing it for Cody’s own good. “A Jedi’s the first nice natborn most of us have ever met.”

“Nice is weakness,” Bacara said. Everybody around him fervently nodded. “Kindness, compassion, charity - they’re words of the weak meant to justify being weak. They celebrate weakness. A real Mandalorian would want to strangle the nice on sight. Not feel sorry for them.”

“Lord Vader’s tough, a real strong leader,” Rex eagerly jumped in. “The Empire’s going to be as tough and fair as him one day, right?”

Bacara pointed sternly at him. “He’ll only be as strong as his clone commander. Don’t embarrass us by showing weak manda.” Rex nodded, fighting the urge to salute. “This room’s a bit more competent than the rest of the foot soldiers out there. You all know better than to buy into their nicey-nice crap, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Wolffe said immediately, “I’m gonna use Koon’s weakness against him.”

“I better get an award when I kill Windu,” Ponds added, a little loudly. “He’s the worst out of all of them. I’m just pissed I’m not allowed to kill him yet.”

“Secura’s never gonna see me coming,” Bly swore. “It’s all for the sake of the Empire, right?”

“That’s right. It’s for the sake of a government that will let us do what we want.” Bacara tipped his beer into his mouth, snickering. “I’ve been fantasizing about it lately. How great it’s going to feel when I wrap my hands around Ki Adi Mundi’s neck and squeeze. He’s just so annoying and pretentious and nice. Vermin, all of them. It’s gonna feel good to clean this galaxy up a bit and take out the trash.” 

Neyo popped another piece of candy into his mouth, bored. “The officers need to be good examples for the men. Our weakness is the Empire’s weakness. You should all be monitoring your men to make sure that they aren’t acting seditious.”

“It’s about discipline,” Bacara complained. “Jango never would have let any of this happen. Jango was more passionate about exterminating Jedi than anybody. After the work he put into us, the slightest ounce of mercy would shame him.”

Everybody nodded. Everybody wanted to nod the most. Nobody wanted to be seen nodding the least. Nobody had a very strong idea of what would happen to the person in the room who cared the least about taking out the trash, but they were all certain that they didn’t want to be the guy. 

The only ones who stayed silent were Fox and Cody. Bacara’s eyes skipped over Fox - what were you going to do, ask Fox if he was being loyal? Literally Fox? - and landed on Cody. He took another long drink from the glass, pointing it at him. “What about you, Kote? Weren’t you given an assignment to be a caretaker for the young lord?”

Wolffe pounced on the topic change. “Yeah, Codes, how’s the babysitting going?”

Cody pointed at the five beer bottles on the ground. Cody, obviously, wanted to fucking kill himself.

Bly made a sympathetic face. “It can’t be that bad, can it? Quinlan’s spunky, but he’s always trying hard to impress me. It’s - annoying.”

“It’s a very prestigious job,” Rex informed the room. “The young lord is going to be one of the most pivotal players in the Empire. He’s only thirteen now, but the Emperor’s already thinking of him as a potential future apprentice. The Emperor decided that Cody would be the best influence on him.” Rex elbowed Cody, grinning. “And he needs the good influence, right?”

Bacara raised an eyebrow, downing the whiskey like water. “I’m not surprised that Kote was asked to do it. You always acted like every snot-nosed brat in Kamino was your job. You were adopting pathetic life forms all over the place.” He pointed at Rex. “Like that one.”

“You are unnecessarily mean -”

“Cody always said that somebody had to look out for ‘em.” Bly tried to nab a sweet from the plate. Neyo slapped his hand away. Bly sulkily retreated. “‘Cause nobody but a clone would ever look out for a clone, right? Cody always used to say that.” Bacara gave Cody an unimpressed but amused look. “Oh, right, ori’vod said that first.”

“Guess the Emperor figured that they had the best babysitter in the GAR right there,” Wolffe joked. Hopefully. Rex couldn’t decide if clones were wasted as babysitters or if they would make the best babysitters ever. Both, maybe? “Can’t be that hard a job, though. Monk babies are probably perfectly behaved all the time. Right?” Cody popped open another beer, dead-eyed. “...right?”

Slowly, excruciatingly, Cody said, “He is the worst child I have met in my life.”

Rex patted his back sympathetically. “He’s not that bad. He’s pretty fun, actually.”

“You say that,” Cody gritted out through clenched teeth, “because you are not in charge of keeping him alive.”

“Yeah, his death wish is what makes him fun.”

Shockingly, Neyo stopped his ruthless plundering of their food long enough to chime in. “What’s a thirteen year old doing with a death wish?”

“Yeah,” Wolffe said, “thought Neyo-ori’vod had cornered the market on thirteen year olds with death wishes.” Bacara threw a bottle at his head, and he only narrowly dodged. “Hey, watch -”

“Being in charge of the young lord’s safekeeping is a great honor.” Cody said the words with such incredible emphasis, as if he was trying to carve them into his own body. “He will be an incredible asset to the Empire and it is my duty to prepare him as a future Sith apprentice. I would…never complain…about my sacred duty to the Empire.”

“Ow,” Bly said. “That bad?”

“Much worse,” Rex confirmed. 

Bly’s sympathy was the last straw. Cody groaned into his hands, and Rex could almost hear the release valve popping. “He has decided that it is his life’s goal to discover every single secret a clone could conceivably keep. He has stopped at nothing to achieve this. He is in the vents. He is in the supply closets. He is underneath the beds. He is in the fucking trash compactor.”

“Like the trash?” Ponds asked blankly. 

“He has decided it’s his job as padawan to impress his teachers into actually teaching him.” The entire room had been trained by Jango Fett, so they all nodded as if this was obvious. “His ridiculously negligent teachers, who think it is funny to let a thirteen year old boy vanguard every attack, throw him at the largest enemies on the field, lead every attack squadron, fly a starfighter -”

“Vader says it’s very normal for children to fly starfighters,” Rex said, affronted. 

“The most reckless battalion in the GAR has found the single most eager to please child in the Jedi Temple. He will do anything for their approval. So he is out-performing Anakin Skywalker on reckless stunts.” Cody gave Rex a glare as dark as night. “And somebody is encouraging every single one.”

“I’m the fun one,” Rex informed the room. “Part of the mission.”

“Anakin Skywalker can do all of the reckless stunts he wants,” Cody snarled, and almost the entire room quailed. “He is the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. This mildly talented thirteen year old is as fragile as flimsi and is attempting stunts twice as dangerous. And Skywalker is encouraging and cheering him on every single time.”

“And the vent thing,” Bly added helpfully. 

“And the vent thing.” Cody popped open another beer, potentially in self-defense. “I want to tie him to a chair. I want to lock him in a room. I have an army to run, the most annoying Jedi in the galaxy to manage, Darth Vader calling me ‘no fun’ every other day, and Rex to worry about. I do not have the time or the energy to stop a child desperate for attention from flinging himself down an elevator shaft.”

Neyo abruptly stood up. The motion was sudden and strange, although it shouldn’t have been. The treats tray was cleared, and there was nothing left in the room that interested him. “My fists itch. Let’s go find a fight, Back.”

“Oh, hell yeah, been a minute since I got some energy out. Planetside’s boring.” Bacara stood up, carelessly dropping the glass on the ground and letting it shatter. The dregs of booze dripped from the sharp corners and stained the tile. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a second.”

“We can’t pay you two for bounty hunting,” Fox said, raising a thousand questions. Neyo adopted a considering look. “I don’t care what you do, just don’t make it my problem.”

“We clean up our own messes,” Neyo said. 

He nodded at Bacara and left. Every eye in the room swiveled on Bacara, who casually sipped his beer and waited ten precise seconds. Then fifteen. 

Finally, he stood up too. He walked towards the door, but he stopped in front of Cody first. Cody looked up at him, a little leery, as Bacara sat down on the table in front of him. Rex evacuated the vicinity, leaving Cody to his fate. It had been nice knowing him while he lasted. 

“You’re a little asshole, you know that?”

Cody made a face. “I’m sorry, are we six -”

“No, you listen to me. Pay real good fucking attention.” Bacara constantly sounded like he wanted to kill you. He didn’t sound like he wanted to kill Cody any more than usual. But something in his tone made Cody sit up anyway, and made the rest of the room hold their breaths. “Your duty is to take care of that kid, and you are half-assing it.” 

Rex puffed himself up, leaning forward. “Hey, nobody out there’s more dedicated than Cody -”

Bacara put a hand on his head, shoving him away. “Did the Emperor tell you to keep the kid alive, Kote? Or did he tell you to be his caretaker?”

Insanely, Fox yawned and weighed in, betraying them all. “Caretaker.”

“Taking care of a child is more than keeping them alive. It’s more than mopping up after somebody else’s messes. It is protecting that child. If you don’t protect that child, then the galaxy is going to eat him alive and rip him to shreds.”

“I am doing the best I can,” Cody protested, a little weakly. “He’s the one who keeps on throwing himself in danger just because he wants attention.”

 “You’re sitting here whining and bitching and complaining because a kid who is not being protected is in danger. And whose fault is that, huh?” Bacara leaned in, and Cody finally quieted. “He’s not getting approval or attention, whose fault is that? Do you really think it’s normal for a kid not to care if he lives or dies? You need to step up. The fact that you’re whining about this at all is a failure.”

“Why am I the one who has to manage his entire life?” Cody snapped, heedless of Bacara���s dangerous look. “Why am I the one who has to change and not the natborns? Shouldn’t they be looking after their own damn kid?”

“That’s exactly what you don’t want,” Bacara said shortly. “You can’t wait for the natborns to get involved. Fuck, stop ‘em from getting involved. You know why? Because natborns are evil, nasty, selfish, lazy, and weak. Do you know what they do to kids who aren’t protected, who nobody cares about? ‘Cause Neyo and I do.”

The awkward reality of Neyo settled over the room like a charge of electricity. Nobody looked at each other. Cody looked a little shaken. It was the first time Rex had seen him shaken in a very long time. 

“Jedi are vermin. You think the natborns we grew up with are bad? Those are the good guys. And after everything those cunts did to us, what they did to fucking - because they could get away with it. You think the Jedi wouldn’t do the same to a kid who nobody gives a shit about?”

“I’m just a clone,” Cody said, well and thoroughly rattled by Bacara’s words. Or maybe just the look in Bacara’s eyes. He could get wild sometimes. “I can give as much of a shit as I want, the rest of the galaxy isn’t going to care. My power is extremely limited. What am I supposed to do to protect him?”

“Stop making excuses and start taking some damn action.” Bacara stood up from the table, sneering down at Cody. Cody stiffened, clearly fighting the urge to lean back. “Fight dirty if you have to. Get underhanded. It’ll be you against the filthy vermin, so do whatever it takes. Got it?” 

Cody nodded fervently, eyes wide. “Got it.” 

“Good. When you see Neyo again, don’t disappoint him.”

With that parting remark - betraying the reason why he had said anything at all - Bacara left the room, slamming the door behind him. Rex and his batchmates were left sitting in silence, stewing in the cold shock of Bacara and Neyo’s vicious reality. Cody looked a little traumatized.

Most of the time, Rex considered a day three weeks after that point as where it began: the day Cody gathered the 501st and 212th and, frazzled beyond belief, told them that they would be educating the young lord in Mandalorian values and culture for the mission. Nobody had understood, but Cody’s increasingly specific instructions had been too much fun to complain about. 

But sometimes Rex thought that this was where it had started: the back of a bar, sagging with drunk men and alcohol, brought still and awkward by an unwelcome reminder of the weighty reality nobody liked talking about. The horrified look on Cody’s face as Bacara broke a terrifying image over his head. 

Maybe it was just all Bacara’s fault. 

But what kind of dick would say that?

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 7 - Oh, What a Night!

📜 Have fun with this one! We got reunions! We got tension! We got some heat packing 👀

P.S..... Don't kill me for the ending.

❗ 18+, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, original child, sexual themes, mentions of violence/threats

#5.9K words

Part 6 | Masterlist | Part 8

This wasn’t the first time you worked New Year's Eve, but it was the first time you were staying past midnight.

Penny always had a rule. If you didn’t work Christmas Eve, you worked New Year's Eve. You always found it fair, though you never drew the short end of the stick when you worked for her during school.

New Year at the Hard Deck was always fun. The students in the Top Gun program would be the rowdiest, whether it permitted them to let loose or enjoy the holiday. And the locals loved it here.

Penny would decorate the bar, banners strung from the ceiling and balloons on random chairs. She’d leave the Christmas lights up to make it look festive, and she always splurged on confetti canisters for when the clock struck midnight. 

And the best thing? The harbour across the water from the Hard Deck would put on a fireworks display, the best view being from the back deck—where Sadie, Will and Alyssa were currently settled in. 

When Alyssa learned Sadie would tag along with you tonight, she took pity on her. She decided to forgo her New Year's Eve plans of sitting at home, watching the Ball Drop with Will, to spend it with the pair of you. Penny had graciously set up the Adirondack chairs and a small heater for the three of them as they waited for the display you knew was the only reason Sadie agreed to come. 

The bar hadn’t become as busy yet as you expected, but the anxiety for the rush tonight was driving you mad. Penny had run out to do a last-minute errand, leaving you and Jimmy to cover any early customers. You found yourself double-checking and triple-checking the inventory, leaning down occasionally to make sure the bottles of sanitizer were full in the bottom cupboard, despite having just filled them. 

And that stupid keg with the loose nozzle was still causing issues.

“Come on, you stupid, goddamn thing!” Huffing in frustration, you kicked it, knowing it wouldn’t solve anything. “Why do you have to do this to me? On today of all days.” 

“What did that Keg do to a beautiful woman like you?”

You froze.

Turning around, you couldn't believe your eyes. There was Jake, just like the day you met him, leaning up against the bar with the same cocky Mona Lisa grin, taking in your reaction to his sudden appearance.

“Jake!” you almost squealed, quickly making a run for the opening of the bar. Jake laughed wholeheartedly as you slid coming around the corner, hand whipping out to balance yourself before throwing yourself into him. 

Jake bracketed his arms against your back the second you leaped, pulling you further up and into him tightly, your legs swaying as you continued to laugh happily. 

“When did you get back?” you managed to ask through your laughter. 

“Late this morning,” he chuckled into your shoulder. You didn’t want to let him go. He was here. He was back. And suddenly, the mystery ache in your chest from his absence was disappearing with each second he held you. 

“Where are the others? Are they here?” 

“Not yet,” he said, putting you down but not letting you go, hands travelling to your waist. “On their way, I might have snuck out early.” 

“Jake, please tell me you're not going to get into trouble.” 

“Nah, I just got my report done before everyone else.”

You unwound your arms from behind his neck, your hands sliding down, slowly coming to rest on his chest. Peering up at Jake, you couldn't help the gentle smile.

"Hi."

He returned your grin before looking down at your mouth, murmuringly lowly, “Hi, darlin’.” 

“You want to see her?” you asked happily. Jake's stare lasted a few seconds before a soft smile stretched across his face, and he nodded. “She’s here?” 

You couldn’t help your glee. Sadie was going to be so excited. 

“Jimmy!” you shouted, turning in Jake’s arms. “Can you handle the bar for five minutes? Somebody needs to say hi to Sadie!”

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Jimmy walked out to smile at the sight of Jake standing next to you.

"Ah, Hangman! Welcome back!" he exclaimed, reaching out his hand. Jake gripped his forearm, his grin wide as he greeted him back. “Jimmy, it's good to see you.” 

“Everyone made it back, okay?” 

“Just by the skin of our teeth.” He joked. Something made you uneasy about how nonchalantly Jake spoke, whether he was serious or not. You knew you couldn't really ask what happened while they were deployed, but that didn't mean you weren't concerned for their well-being.  

“Go say hi to our girl. I can take care of it,” he winked at the both of you. 

Jake held your hand as you led him out to the back deck, coming to stop just before the doors. You turned to him, pressing a finger to your mouth, telling him to be quiet and to remain hidden.

When you stepped outside, Sadie and Will were deep in a conversation, Alyssa with her nose buried in her phone. She looked happy, you thought, a different comparison to Christmas day. While she seemed to have a good time, the traditions that she and Ridley had that you tried to keep up only made her sad. And you couldn’t help but shed a few tears when she admitted she thought she could be making new traditions with everyone else while opening her gifts, staring at the ones she left under the tree for her aunts and uncles. 

“Bug!” you called out to her. 

She turned her head mid-conversation, and you resisted the urge to laugh, her entire body, minus her head, encased by the big fluffy blanket she had brought with her.

“There’s somebody here to see you!” you called out to her, barely containing your excitement.

Sadie leaned forward in her chair, thinking somebody might be behind you before looking to the door with a curious gaze. You motioned for Jake to leave his hiding spot. He took a gigantic step, placing himself in her line of sight and out of from behind the door frame, his voice loud as he said, “I heard somebody missed me?” 

It took Sadie all but three seconds to gasp. 

“Uncle Jake!” she shrieked, blanket floating behind her as she practically flew out of her chair. Sadie slammed herself into his legs, gripping him tight as the first bouts of happy tears started to make themselves known. Jake did a double take, registering what Sadie had called him, a new weight settling in his chest. 

Sadie wanted him in her life. She wanted to have him as one of her honorary uncles. A slow smile spread across his face at the thought. He leaned down to peel her off his legs, picking her up and spinning her in a circle while laughing with her. 

“Wait, does that mean Auntie Nat and Uncle Roo are back? Uncle Bob?” she asked as he came to a stop, putting her down. 

“Coyote, Payback and Fanboy, too,” he nodded, kneeling beside her, his hand coming up to wipe at one of the tear tracks on her face. You never saw her smile as big as she did then, dimples on full display as she tilted her head back towards the sky, shooting her arms up in joy, before going to hug Jake once more. 

You weren’t surprised Sadie didn’t want to let him go - her hand was small in comparison as it rested against his wide shoulder. But it seemed like he didn’t mind, looking at you with a smirk every so often as Sadie filled him in on what he missed before looking back to her with interest. He latched on to the warplane museum story, asking her about all the different planes she saw; Sadie happily named off the ones she remembered. 

Alssya came to stand beside you, bumping your hip with hers as she watched the pair interact with each other. 

“Whose this hunk?” she asked, making googly eyes at Jake. “Is there something you're not telling me?” 

“What, Jake? He’s just a friend.” 

She scoffed. “Yeah, friends.”

“Lyssa, don’t. He doesn’t really have anyone else. And Sadie adores him.” 

Alyssa stared at you, really stared at you, before shaking her head. She leaned down next to your ear as she returned to her seat.

“Just friends don’t look at each other like that.” 

____

You got another break when Penny returned from her supposed errand, though it was more like a 'supposed reunion' with a certain Captain. Bob, Fanboy and Payback had followed her in not long after. Sadie booked it from sitting on Jake’s knee, crashing into them while crying and hugging them. 

Then shortly after, Rooster, Phoenix and Coyote arrived. Rooster hung back as Nat swept Sadie up in a full-bodied hug, Coyote also picking her up, much like Jake did and swung her in a circle. But last to the approach was Rooster, Sadie turning to spy him nervously, smiling at her as he held out his arms. Sadie stood stock still, tears welling in her eyes and her face becoming red as she held out her arms in front of her, racing to Bradley as he knelt down, pulling her into his arms. 

Out of all the people she welcomed home tonight, Rooster’s welcome made her cry the hardest. 

The night progressed.  You noticed Jake and Coyote playing a game of pool from behind the bar. Sadie had spent, and was still spending, a good chunk of time curled up in Nat's lap, retelling her the stories of what she missed while coming down from her crying spree. Bob was with them, sitting next to Sadie while striking up a conversation with Alyssa. Fanboy and Payback had left after saying hi, explaining they already had plans to go back home for the rest of the holidays. 

And Rooster found his perch, sitting at the piano taking requests. 

Your found family was back. And you couldn’t have been happier. 

You were saying goodbye to a customer when Coyote approached the bar, smiling as he ordered more drinks for himself and Jake. 

"How was she?" he asked as you reached down to get two beer bottles. "While we were gone?"

“She was miserable. Worrying about you guys every day,” you answered, taking each bottle to the opener fixed to the door. “The video chats really helped. I’m sorry I couldn’t speak with all of you guys. Cyclone made me choose.” 

Coyote shook his head, chuckling to himself. “It’s okay, Liz. We knew you were thinking about us.” 

"How was everyone else?" you placed the beers down on the counter. Javy turned, looking out at the rest of the squad. 

"Missing home,” he said while looking at Jake.

___

Penny finally came to relieve you again a half hour before midnight. 

You found a quiet booth no one had touched yet, sliding all the way to the back to put your legs up on the bench, sighing in relief when the pressure came off your ankles. You tilted your head back against the wall and closed your eyes. You finally felt like you could breathe and take a moment for yourself. 

Till you felt a hand on your bottom ankle, lifting up your legs so somebody could slide underneath them. 

“Whoever that is, you have five seconds before I kick you off this bench.” 

“And here I thought you missed me?” Jake replied back amusedly, hand resting on your calf. You kept your eyes closed, though you smiled fondly. 

“I’ll still kick you off this bench. This is the first time I’ve sat down in hours.”

"Nope, I don't think so." He said, pulling your legs forward and trapping them in his hold as your butt slid forward on the slippery wood. You let out a startled laugh, your hand whipping out to grasp the table to prevent the back of your head from connecting with the wall.

"Hey, watch it!" You called out, laughing with him as he dramatically held your legs closer. That was until he caught you staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused, once he noticed your laughter dying down.

“What’s wrong?” 

You jolted. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. Just tried."

He didn't buy it. “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me what’s wrong.” 

He could read you so well, you thought. You weren’t fine. Ever since finding the letter, you were on edge, looking over your shoulder in parking lots and grocery stores, making sure you were never late to pick up Sadie from something. Or if Penny or Alyssa did, you’d stress making sure they let you know when they had her.

It was only a piece of paper.  And yet, it was burning a hole in your pocket.

Sighing, you slid your legs off Jake’s lap, using the momentum to sit next to him and pull Tyler’s letter out of your back pocket. It had been folded over so many times from you looking at it that the page was starting to crease. 

“Take a look at this. I found it in Ridley’s stuff.” 

You held it out to Jake. You couldn’t help but leer at his hands, prominent veins moving while long fingers worked to unfold the piece of paper. You watched his eyes scan the page, eyes tracking over the words until they paused at the bottom. You knew the exact moment he realized, his body becoming stiff and tense sitting next to you.  

“That fucker.” 

You gulped. Jake turned to face you, harshly throwing the letter down to the table.  “Do you think he’s the one who put the review in?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t think he can.” 

“Liz, he was threatening her." His words made you drop your head to the table. Your voice was muffled as you replied sadly, “And Sadie.” 

The contents of that letter scared you more each and every time you looked at it. Tyler had written inquiring after Sadie, demanding your sister return her to him or else. There was no legality in what he was requesting, Tyler having signed his rights over. And after witnessing what he did to your sister, there was never a hells chance you'd let him get close to her. 

You’d sooner die than let her suffer at his hands.

It was a quiet cry on your lips when threading your fingers through the roots of your hair, you admitted, "I'm so scared, Jake."

“Did you take this to the police?” 

“What good would that do?” you cried out,  pulling your head back up. “They’ll probably tell me there’s nothing they can do without evidence he’s actually been in contact with me. That letter is how many months old, Jake.”

You picked it up, playing with one of the edges, bending it back and forth.

“I keep looking over my shoulder. Worrying about Sadie while she’s at school. That he's going to do something,” you sniffed, pressing the heel of your hand into your eye before letting the letter fall once again to the table.

"Elizabeth."

You turned to face Jake upon hearing your name. He looked furious, his jaw firm and a vein on his forehead protruding angrily.  "I'm not going to let that happen. He'd be flat on his ass in two seconds before he got that close to Sadie," he spoke harshly before his face relaxed slightly. "Or you."

"I can't ask you to do that. You're not getting in trouble for us."

"Too fucking bad."

Feeling overwhelmed, you pressed your forehead into the side of Jake’s shoulder, taking the opportunity to try to compose yourself before turning to rest it against his shoulder. Jake turned his head, pressing his lips to the top of yours, murmuring into your hair, “I won’t let anything happen to her.” 

You leaned back, looking up at Jake thankfully. However, you were suddenly confused by the look of determination on his face.

Liz," he said softly. "There's something I need to tell you."

You straightened a little, placing your hand on top of his resting on the table. You couldn't hide the concern from your voice when you replied, "Of course, Jake. What's wrong?"

Jake took a deep breath, turning his hand over on the table to grasp yours. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he noticed the worry in your eyes.

Unfortunately, in that hesitation, it took almost two seconds for Bradley to slide into the booth opposite, a permanent scowl on his face as he immediately remarked,  “And what do we have going on here?” 

“Hi, Rooster,” you said, turning to him while attempting to force a smile on your face, letting Jake's hand go to place it under the table.

“You two seem pretty close. Something you want to share?”

The heat in his voice caused a bundle of nerves to form in your stomach. You knew what it looked like, you and Jake being this close to each other.  You hadn’t really told him about Sadie, and you knew any attempt to tell him now would only result in complete denial, to cover up whatever he thought he knew. 

You picked up the letter on the table before looking up at Jake. 

"It's up to you," he told you, not bothering to once turn towards Bradley. “I’m not saying a word.” 

Jake’s choice of words didn’t help either. But you respected that he was letting you choose to tell Bradley about the issue with Sadie for yourself. And something told you he would back you up either way. 

“Bradley, whatever your thinking...”

“I don’t know, Liz,” he interrupted you. “I think you didn’t listen to us when we told you to stay away from him. That he's bad news."

"Wow, subtle Bradshaw."

Rooster ignored Jake, still eyeing you harshly.

"Are you fucking him?"

You felt Jake tense beside you, a hand coming out to grip your thigh. Instead, you calmly asked, "How much have you had to drink tonight, Roo?

He didn't answer, too caught up in his words to listen to you. “Are you even thinking about Sadie? What this might do to her? Do you even care to think about her first? You're her aunt, you should be!"

Your heart dropped into your stomach. 

“Jake, let me up. I need to get back to Penny.” 

He didn’t move. “Your break isn’t over yet.” 

“Too fucking bad.” 

Noticing your need to escape, Jake stood up to let you out. He reached out when you weren’t mindful of the coat hook above your head in your desperate urge to flee. His hand prevented what would have been a painful moment for you, and despite the pain on your face from Rooster’s words, you managed a small smile in thanks after your head bumped his hand.

You took two steps forward before deciding to stop, turning around in a silent rage, only to throw Tyler’s letter to the table to stare dead into Bradley’s eyes. 

“It is about Sadie, you asshole.” 

Jake watched as you stomped off back to Penny, helping to relieve her of the sudden line forming around the bar. Penny’s face was one of gratitude as more people eagerly gathered in line to get their next drink before midnight. As he sat back down, Rooster watched you march off with an open mouth. 

“And here I thought you liked staying on that perch,” Jake leaned back, staring at Bradley while crossing his arms. “Observing, learning everything before you made your move.” 

“Fuck off, Hangman.” 

“You might want to take a look at that before you start mouthing off. Least of all to poor Liz.”

Rooster glared at Jake before looking at the piece of paper you threw down to the table, reluctantly picking it up. Jake remained seated as Bradley read, his eyes frantically moving back and forth the longer he read, and not unlike Jake’s reaction, Bradley reeled back, dropping the letter to the table as it burned him. 

“Motherfucker.” 

“My sentiments exactly.” 

Rooster eyed the piece of paper wearily. Then he started to put two and two together. Jake knew something he didn't. And he didn’t like that. 

"What's going on, Hangman?"

It took Jake a moment to think about what you’d want him to say. Bradley was always a stubborn person. He didn’t know your reasons for not telling the rest of the Daggers what had happened. But if Tyler really was going to follow through with his threats, Sadie needed to be protected. Bradley needed to know. 

“CPS called Liz in a few weeks before we left. Somebody put in a review on the paperwork for Sadie’s guardianship.”

Rooster was stunned. Out of all the things he expected Jake to say, that wasn't certainly one of them. Jake's words sobered his rage, at least for the moment.

 “Can they do that?” he asked, throwing himself back into the seat in disbelief.

Jake nodded, replying, "Somebody requested it from the outside. It wasn't internal." Bradley took a moment, staring at the piece of paper now in between them. 

“She says the list is non-existent, though my money is on Tyler if his letter isn't a dead giveaway," Jake glanced down, picking up the letter. He was brought back to that day of the hike when you told him of Tyler and your family, how you told him about the promise you ensure Sadie never suffered the same trauma you did growing up. He folded it up as you had done and pocketed it into his pants. “Regardless if she says he can’t.”

Rooster thought about his words before asking, "Why didn't she come to us?"

“If you haven’t noticed, she puts up a mask whenever she’s around you guys.”

Rooster scoffed. "How would you know? You’ve only really known her for less than a month.” 

Jake didn’t hesitate when he answered, “She’s the first to ditch on a Saturday night—collecting the dishes and disappearing when nobody else is looking, not bothering to ask someone to help to carry them in. And you should know better than anyone, Liz doesn’t have a tendency to ask for help.”

It was true, Bradley thought. Not once did you ask for help with anything. He practically had to sweet talk you into letting him pick up Sadie from school. But regardless, if it was about Sadie, you still would have let them know.

"She still would have told us."

“Really? Cause I think it’s no wonder she didn’t trust you if you’re resorting to calling her names because you saw something you didn’t like.” 

Bradley had enough, sliding out of the booth and starting in the direction of you to set the picture straight. 

“Bradshaw,” Jake called out after him. “Have you really asked her how she’s been since bringing Sadie home?”

Bradley stopped but didn’t turn around. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t be the only one that notices she clams up when her sister is mentioned. Whatever you see, It's clear she’s not grieving.”

Bradley turned back around, staring at the floor for a few seconds before looking back up at Jake.

“Whatever resentment you have for me, can you at least can it for now? Until we figure out who's targeting Liz and Sadie.”

Rooster sighed, making his way back over to the booth and popping himself back into the seat. 

“Okay, fine,” he relented. “Until Sadie and Liz are okay.”

“For Sadie and Liz," Jake nodded, looking down to straighten his nameplate. “Besides, I’ve officially got Sadie's stamp of approval. What type of Uncle would I be if I didn’t look out for her?” 

Looking back up at Bradley, Jake had to give Sadie credit.

Her statement about his ability to turn 'Red as a Rooster' was surprisingly accurate.

___

At five minutes to midnight, you found yourself ringing the bell three times. Jake and Bradley were the closest to you, having stayed in the booth talking. You’d be stupid not to realize Jake would have filled in Bradley regarding the issue with CPS. It was the longest you’ve ever seen them together in each other's company, let alone that close to each other, without deciding to tear one another apart. 

The minute the guy realized, somewhat drunkenly, he would be manhandled by two naval officers out of the bar, he quickly got up with both hands raised. Jake led him outside with a hand on his shoulder while Rooster stayed behind, observing you somewhat regretfully.

“I’m sorry, Liz.” As he spoke, you didn’t look him in the eye, deciding to polish a glass instead. This only made Bradley feel worse, hating that you were treating him like he wasn’t in the room.

"I should have..."

"Should have what, Bradley?" you snarked, pulling the rag from your shoulder and throwing it into the small sink under the bar. "Should have asked why I was so upset before jumping to conclusions?"

You glared at him, leaning forward on the edges of the makeshift counter. "For thinking that I don't put Sadie first? For thinking that I was fucking Jake?"

Some of the older patrons sitting at the bar shot you a look. You grimaced at your choice of words, but it didn't stop you from raging. Lowering your voice, you continued, "You know damn well I don't do anything without making sure she'd be okay. That she comes first before all else."

“I just wish you would have told us. We could have helped.”

You sighed, looking down and picking up your rag. “Honestly, Bradley. If I told you why, you’d hate me.”

Rooster paused for a second before replying, “Because of Sadie.” 

You looked up at him, instantly regretting it once you saw the look of pity on his face. You couldn’t stand his face, suddenly deciding you needed to collect the empty glasses Penny had left on the side of the bar. Only Rooster followed along the opposite side, coming to stand directly in front of you.

"Bradley, don't."

He didn't listen to you. "She's always with us. Saturday nights, special occasions, simply hanging. If not, your working."

You placed the whiskey glass in your hand down, head hanging low as you fought the pressure behind your eyelids.

"You don't want her to know what is going on. And I don't mean with Tyler or CPS, but with you."

You gripped your forearm, bracing yourself for his next words.

"It's okay to grieve Ridley, Liz."

His words made you crumble.

God Dammit, Rooster.

"I'm sorry I said you don't put Sadie first. I know you do. We all do," he said gently. Then his next set of words surprised you.

"And I'm glad you at least told someone. Even if it was Hangman."

That made you pause, finally deciding to look him in the eye and let your arm go, already knowing you were going to forgive him for his words about Sadie. But while you didn't care for the implications behind his words regarding you, there was something you needed to get off your chest. Your voice was fierce as you gave into that split-second urge to divulge the one thing that had been bothering you since after the Hike.

“Don’t shit on Jake all the time, okay?”

 He gave you a look, arching a brow almost playfully, but dropped his face the minute he realized how serious you were being.

"I get it. To you, he's rude, ignorant, and defiantly says the wrong thing at the wrong time. And he might be a womanizer, but he's been nothing but good to Sadie, okay? And me."   

Bradley’s face remained blank as you continued. "Sadie's picking up on all the animosity and hates it. So either you get over whatever issues you have with him and be there for Sadie, including letting Jake be involved in her life, with the rest of the Daggers in line, or I don't accept your apology.” 

"Okay."

Wait, What?

You looked at him shocked. He nodded to you once, knocking on the top of the bar twice with his knuckle before turning on his heel to leave. There was no way it was that easy, especially with Bradley.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" you called after him.

Bradley whipped around, hands gesturing out as he replied, "Because you asked," before continuing his walk to reclaim his previous spot at the piano bench, calling over his shoulder, "Besides, it's a new year. We need to make resolutions and shit!"

You had no idea what happened after you left Jake and Bradley to their own devices, but you couldn't help but chuckle, even somewhat nervously, at Bradley's sudden carefree attitude.

How long it would last was another thing.

After a quick bathroom break, you caught yourself in the middle of the Hard Deck as the final countdown started. You spied Will and Sadie with the sparklers you had brought, waving them around to match the numbers being said aloud.

Alyssa had joined Rooster momentarily at the piano, and you had a feeling she was purposely putting herself in a place where she’d be easily accessible for a midnight kiss. Something you'd be grilling her about the next time you saw her.

Coyote was standing next to the girl he had been chatting up all night, Bob and Phoneix were shouting the countdown together, and Penny and Mav smiling at each other.

But Jake was nowhere in sight. 

You sighed, turning around to go back to the bar, anticipating the rush once Penny popped the bottles of champagne. You were one step in the opposite direction before hitting a solid chest, a cry of surprise escaping your lips as a pair of arms came to stop you from toppling over. 

Jake was coming back into the bar when the countdown started. In years previous, when he wasn’t stationed somewhere or found himself out celebrating, he’d generally chat up a girl to seal the deal with a midnight kiss, which would usually end the night in someone’s bed.  

He had nothing but you on his mind, searching for you as he walked, finding you staring out the back doors to look at Sadie and her friend before your eyes travelled the rest of the room. You were there, standing in the middle of the floor, and as he told you not once, not twice, but three times now, you were beautiful. 

Time has a funny way of changing your priorities. Time spent away from your friends, family and home. Moments when you have nothing but time, waiting around for something to happen. Instances where, in life-or-death situations, you found yourself wondering how much time you had left. 

Would he ever own up to the fact that one of the photos Sadie must have accidentally sent him ended up in his cockpit? A photo of you from the picnic when Sadie was messing with the blanks. You weren’t looking at the camera, not even aware she had pointed it at you nor taken it, but rather staring off over the lookout, a soft smile on your face. 

And on those runs, the ones where enemy fire was inescapable and on the ones where they’d simply fly over doing recon, he’d look to that picture and think about you. 

He thought about how you scared him with your presence, how you cared. You challenged him to think more about life in the sky, the impending moment he would eventually burn in, simply by allowing him to see into your and Sadie’s lives. How much more time would he have left to be a part of your lives? 

Women always told him he wasn’t the type you’d settle down with. He was the one-night stand, the fling from the bar the night before deployment because it would be the last time he’d ever feel something. Being involved with him came with consequences, and it was just too high of a price to pay.  

And yet, before he left, you told him to come home. On that video call, you told him to come home. Sadie even wrote to him on the back of her plane photo she wanted him to come home.  So he secretly found himself looking at your picture, at Sadie’s, wanting to come home to both of you. 

You were off limits.

But he was tired of listening to what others were telling him to do. 

If the world, fate, or whatever guiding force was telling him all those other times weren’t right to kiss you, a kiss to start a New Year had to be it.

He found himself behind you, about to say your name when you turned, slamming yourself into his chest with a cry, and wobbled, so close to falling over. He reached out to grab you, pulling you upright and into his body. 

Ten, Nine, Eight…

"Jake?" you asked concerningly. His eyes were blown wide, just a bare line of green making up his irises. Looking up in worry something might be wrong, you found nothing of the sort. 

“What’s..”  you started to say, but the words died in your throat. Jake’s hand came up to grip the side of your face, fingers hooking themselves around the edge of your jaw, pausing momentarily before sliding to the back of your neck to find a grip within the roots of your hair. 

You drew in a sharp breath, feeling like your body was drowning underwater, ears muting out the shouts of everyone counting down around you. Instead, the voice in the back of your head took over, strangely sounding a lot like your sister's, attempting to encourage you to believe It must be lust.

Seven, Six, Five…

He found himself tilting your head back, pressing forward where your noses nudged together. Your fingers mocked his, slipping delicately up his cheek and settling into his hair. Finding yourself thinking, what harm would it do if you did give in to whatever this thing was if it felt so right? 

Four…

As Jake’s grip got tighter on your waist, you started rising on the balls of your feet to meet him, pressing your body into his.  Ridley’s voice, a mantra in your head, was screaming fuck it, fuck it, fuck it as you felt the warmth of his breath caress your lips. 

And Jake, wondering how you’d feel under him. What would your lips taste like? Would they be as soft as he’d imagined on those sleepless nights on the carrier during his deployment? Or would you kiss him as you did in his dreams, the ones that would make him startle wake?

Three…

But then came the little traitorous thought, ‘Would you care for it if he did?’ 

Two, One…

At the last second, just before the final shout of Happy New Year, Jake moved, pressing a delicate kiss to the farthest corner of your mouth instead.  The sound of popping outside overtook the sound of your heartbeat as you registered the softness of his lips just on the barest part of yours, his hands relaxing their grip on the back of your neck and waist.

His words warmed your cheek as he pulled back an inch; his breath was shallow as he spoke, “Happy New Year, Liz.” 

You almost chased his lips, eyes fixed on his mouth, as you managed to choke out a reply.

“Happy New Year, Jake.” 

Hehe, I'm sorry for another 'almost' kiss. I promise stuff is happening soon.

Tags:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern

Part 8: Drift Away is coming Soon.

Wickett ;)

[finneyfinland]

I think We're Alone Now Chapter 3

SUMMARY: Billionaire Reginald Hargreeves adopts 8 children all born on the same day of the same year. 7 of which were soon introduced as the umbrella academy. To you, the umbrella academy was nothing but a man using his power to traumatizes children. You’d know, as you were number 8. The Vampire

WARNINGS: mentions of child torture (experiments), starvation, body horror (vampire). Child abuse, blood, childhood trauma, arguments, assault, body dysmorphia, abandonment issues

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I've been taking writing courses so I've had no time to write as a hobby. ANYWAYS- fight scene time

Vacations are always weird for you. Most 'vacation' activities are off limits, no beaches, no trying new restaurants. You could go to the library, but the only books that you haven't already read, or aren't revolved around your job, leave you with slim pickings. You tend to spend the day in your apartment, watching new shows or coming across new content creators. Not to mention you're only on vacation because your father finally kicked the bucket. It was only when the sun grazed the middle of the cloudy sky when you headed back to the house.

To your surprise some of your sibling were gathered in the parlor. Five, Vanya, and Allison were missing. When they saw you walk in they rushed you in front of the old box tv, "Oh (Y/N) I'm glad you made it." Luther says as he catches you quietly walking in. "What's up with the old tv?" You ask, you haven't seen the thing since you were very young. "Apparently Allison and Luther have something 'important' to show us" Diego sarcastically rolls his eyes. As the boys glare at each other you notice Klaus as he scarfs down some chips he must of stolen from somewhere. He's always had stress related problems, whether that be alcohol, drugs, or simply eating, or not eating. You move to lean against the back of the couch next to him, in hopes of your presence maybe having a positive affect on his current mental state.

Soon Allison enters with Vanya trailing behind, Luther finally starts up the old tv for the group to see what was so important. As the low quality security camera footage plays, you stomach twists at the sight of Father's death. "I mean, do you really think Mom would hurt Dad?" Vanya asks in disbelief. "You haven't been home in a long time Vanya, maybe you don't know Grace anymore." Some part of you doesn't appreciate Luther's tone. Mom wouldn't hurt anybody, there's just no way. "If he was poisoned, it would've shown in the coroner's report." Diego says tiredly, Allison swirls her glass full of alcohol as the rest of us sit back and watch the two boys start up another argument.

"Maybe all that low gravity in space messed with your vision." Diego rewinds the tv and points out Mom taking Father's monocle as she leans over him and walks back to his tray. Diego walks back as Klaus agrees with him. "She wasn't poisoning him, she was.. taking it. To clean it." Klaus strides back behind the bar to get a drink. "No I've searched the whole house, including her things and she doesn't have it." Luther still argues as you pace to stand against the pillar next to Vanya. "That's because I took it from her, after the funeral." Diego's words turn the group against him. As they start to square up you rush to try and deescalate the situation, not wanting another ugly fight, putting a hand on Luther's arm.

"Calm down." Vanya jumps in to help you, "Look, I know Dad wasn't exactly an open book, but I do remember one thing he said. Mom was, well, designed to be a caretaker, but.. also as a protector." Klaus saunters over to lean against the pillar you're standing by. "What does that mean?" Allison asks, confused. Vanya walks slowly towards the middle of the group as they explain, "She was programmed to intervene if someone's life was in jeopardy." You nod, remembering one of Father's introduction to our new caretaker.

"Well, if her hardware is degrading then.. We need to turn her off." The reaction is immediate, "She feels things, I've seen it!" Diego raises his voice as he points one of his throwing knifes. "She just stood there and watched our father die!" Luther argues back, "I'm with Luther." Allison butts in. To no one's surprise, you think to yourself. They look back to Vanya and you for your vote. You decide to speak up. "Mom isn't some robot you can just turn off, she has feelings and would never just standby, regardless if her wiring is starting to fail." You cross your arms tightly against your chest as Diego nods along. Luther rushes to hear from Vanya. Vanya stutters in surprise at being involved and Diego interrupts before they get the chance. "I was gonna say that I agree with you." Vanya says, shocked. "Okay. They should get a vote." You shake your head and lay your hand on Vanya's shoulder. They reach up a hand to cover yours. "What about you. Stoner boy? What do you got?" Diego gestures to Klaus, "Oh, so, what? You need my help now? Oh, 'get out of the van, Klaus. Well, welcome back to the van." Luther scoffs, "What's it gonna be, Klaus?" Klaus swallows, "I'm with Diego, because screw you!" Diego points to Klaus victoriously. "And if Ben were here, he'd agree with me." A small part of you shakes it's head, no he totally wouldn't.

As Diego starts to celebrate Allison shoots him down, "Votes not final yet, Five's not here. The whole family gets a vote." Of course, just when they're losing they change the rules. As always with this family. With that you all take you leave. As you walk behind Klaus the sight of Mom standing in one of the doorways breaks your heart. She's not smiling, just silently observing. I hope she just got there, that conversation was nasty. You head to your room, wanting to get a quick reprieve from the never ending drama that is your family.

As the alarms continued to go off your siblings ran from room to room around you. You were sitting on your bed waiting for everybody to be ready. Mom had already helped you get into your uniform, your body still too small. Your siblings had already began to grow. Limbs too long, baby fat still prominent on their cheeks. But your body didn't seem to get the memo. Your mind was years ahead of your body. Inside, you looked the same as your siblings, but outside, you were still only eight. So you waited, until Father came down to yell at your siblings for being tardy. Mom made her rounds checking up on us. When she stopped at your door she walked in with a bottle of sunscreen in her hands. "We can't forget about this, now can we?" She asked with a smile. "But it's cloudy today, Mom" She opened the bottle and lathered her hands before moving to apply the sunscreen to your face. "Just because the sun isn't out-" "Doesn't mean you're in clear" You finished with a pout. Mom giggles before handing you your domino mask. "That's right, dear" She stands and walks to the doorway but waits to make sure you manage to put your mask on your own. When she sees you're all set she moves next door to complement Vanya's playing.

Before missions you always stop in Vanya's room to make sure they'll be ok when you leave. They opened up to you about how staying behind felt for them. Never wanting to hurt them you've been personally saying goodbye as your group walks out the door. When you come back, they're always waiting at the door to make sure everything went well.

The sun has soon since set past the horizon. The dark and heavy clouds have thinned out to wisps breezing by. You're standing outside in the backyard pointedly ignoring Ben's broken statue behind you. You're on the phone with your shift manager, discussing your schedule. As much as you love your family, it's only been two days and you're ready to get back to work, halfway across the state. Your superior doesn't seem to get the memo however, insisting you haven't had enough time to properly mourn your 'terribly tragic loss'. You pinch your nose and sigh softly to yourself as they continue to reassure you that the hospital with still be standing a week from now. You gaze up to the quarter moon, silently greeting your old friend. While everybody shared the sun, you practically had the moon all to yourself. Faintly seven hearts beat together from inside the house. Wait… seven? Isn't there supposed to be only five right now? You turn to the house and see two unfamiliar figures pass by one of the windows. "Sorry Maureen, I think my brothers' calling me back in. I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Yep, thank you. Bye" You wrap up the phone call as fast as you can and pace into the house.

As you get closer to the main foyer the scent of blood hits your nose. You break out into a sprint when Vanya's heartbeat overlaps with one of the strangers. You step into the main foyer and come face to face with Luther fighting a masked man. I need to get to Vanya, but he's probably not gonna let me pass. You reason to yourself. You pull off your gloves and stuff them into the pockets of your coat. As the masked man lifts Luther up you rush behind him and slice through his pants. Your nails cut through down to the man's Achilles tendon, causing him to fall to the ground on top of Luther. While he tries to recover you run into the parlor where Vanya's laying on the coffee table. Thankfully Luther covers for you, aggroing him so you can reach Vanya. "(Y/N)" They say weakly as you pull them up. "(Y/N) get them out of here!" Luther yells to you while pounding the man's back. You quickly grab their hand and run to the space between the doorway and the wall, pinning them against it and using your back as a potential shield. "Stay quiet" You whisper to them as Luther calls out Vanya's name.

They meet your eye with hope, but you shake your head. It's not over yet, the man's still moving. Just then a yell comes from the foyer followed by a loud thud. Vanya squeezes their eyes shut, heart racing inside their chest. You try to push them further into the wall as heavy step approach the parlor. You put your chin on their shoulder and lean your forehead against the wall. The man takes a few steps into the room before turning back and heading towards your bedrooms. Vanya signs from relief and slumps their head onto your shoulder in return. You pull you head back and reach a head up to their hairline. Blood trickling down from a gash. But before you get to fully assess the damage Allison's voice rings out through the air.

"Luther!" Her and Diego approach Luther squirming on the ground and help pull him up. Just as they steady him, a metal clang covers their heartbeats. "Out of the way!" Is all you hear before the chandler comes crashing down. Luther pushes Allison and Diego out of the way and falls to the ground, pinned down by the metal chandler. For a couple seconds all is still, but Luther stands, pushing the chandler off his back, tearing his top in the process. As you and Vanya step into the doorway something catches everyone's eyes. Luther's torso is covered in thick dark skin and patches of hair. Well, that explains the smell.

As Luther turns he sees several pairs of eyes on him. He quickly runs up the stairs with blood dripping onto the carpet from the wounds on his chest. Allison sees you and Vanya standing in the doorway, she walks up to the both of you. "Did you know?" Vanya asks, "No" is all she said, shaking her head. Mom's hums fill the air, Diego runs to the second floor to check up on her.

While you sit Vanya down on the couch you turn to Allison. "Can you get me a towel or something please?" She nods and walks away. You sigh and sit down next to Vanya. You check them for other injuries before Allison comes back and hands you a red hand towel. You smile at her and take it, pressing it to Vanya's wound and start to rub the blood off. "Who were those people?" Vanya asks, "I don't know. But we are lucky to be alive." Allison sits down on the coffee table in front of you. She leans closer "You sure you're okay?" They nod, you pull back the cloth and check to see if the wound is still bleeding. Thankfully it's starting to form a scab over it so there shouldn't be anymore blood. Diego paces into the room, "Diego?" Allison questions. He turns to your group, panting. "What are you still doing here?" He carelessly says to Vanya. "I'm just trying to help" You put the rag down and grab one of their hands. "No, you could've been killed." Diego points to Vanya, "Or gotten any of us killed." You squeeze their hand. "They're a liability" Diego says to Allison before walking back to stand next to the other couch. "Allison?" Vanya asks, looking to her while she lowers her head.

"I think what he's trying to say is that this kind of stuff is dangerous." She pauses, looking away. "You're just-" "Not like you" Vanya finishes. Allison's pause speaks for itself. Vanya scoffs beside you before letting go of your hand and pushing off of the couch walking out the parlor. "That's not what I- Vanya wait" Allison stands and tries to follow them. "Let them go. It's for the best." Diego calls out from his spot on the other couch. Allison stops in the doorway as Vanya walks out the front doors and leaves without saying anything.

You stand from the couch and glare at Diego as you pass by. Feeling ashamed of your siblings actions. You walk out onto the street, but they're already gone. You can still hear their heartbeat, you could follow them. But a little voice inside you whispers to let them go.