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redrose10 · 1 year ago

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Alright here is Chapter 5! Originally it was supposed to be a much shorter chapter but I didn’t like the way it flowed so I changed it up. There are still a few more chapters to go!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 3,016

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Yoongi had started making an effort. It was small but you did notice little things like the tea kettle already filled when you got up in the morning and he’d text you to ask how your day was going. He didn’t seem to be bringing home women any more either but you knew he had other ways of accomplishing that so you were still skeptical.

Yoongi walked through the door after a particularly hard day. His company was denied the patent that they desperately needed to move forward on a new project costing them millions of dollars and precious time. He of course got chewed out over it by the entire board and it soured his mood for the rest of the day. He just wanted to get home, take a shower, have a glass of whiskey, and get in bed.

When he entered his home he heard loud music blaring through the speakers. He recognized the song as some girl group but he’d never cared enough to actually pay attention. It was catchy though. But what really caught his eye was you dancing around the kitchen in a white T-shirt that was just long enough to barely cover your backside. Your hair up in a messy bun. Your hips swayed to the music as you stirred something in a pot before returning to the cutting board. He watched you for a few seconds admiring your beauty. How you sang along to the song somewhat off key but still managed to sound beautiful. He did deserve the scolding he got earlier because he truly was an idiot. An idiot that had someone like you right there practically handed to him and he tried his best to ruin it all.

Slowly he walked over and cleared his throat, “It smells really good in here. What did you make?”

You were startled nearly jumping a foot in the air as you didn’t expect him to be home so early, “Oh Namjoon’s mom gave me a recipe for Jajangmyeon so I wanted to try it out.” Yoongi knew you hadn’t spoken to his mother since the wedding but here you were exchanging recipes with another man’s mom. That stung. “Would you like some?”, you asked almost certain he’d turn you down like every other time but to your shock he nodded, “Yeah sure. Sounds good.”

Placing the bowl in front of him he immediately took a huge bite.

“This is amazing Y/N. Best I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you.”, you replied before digging into your own bowl. The two of you made light conversation over dinner. It felt domestic and while this was what you’d always wanted it created a fear in you that eventually this would all come crashing down and be worse than before.

He ate the bowl in no time and even asked for seconds. Once you were both finished he offered to clean up and wash the dishes. You stared at him in disbelief causing him to stop what he was doing and look up at you. “What?”, he asked like what he was doing was completely normal.

“Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded, “Yeah I’m fine. Why?”

“Well I’m just waiting for you to tell me you got someone pregnant or like you’re dying or something.”

Yoongi chuckled and for the first time you saw his gummy smile. “I just thought I’d help you out since you made that delicious meal.” You gave a small smile, “Oh okay. Well thank you.” Quickly you made your way back to your room to hideout until he went to bed. You fully expected to wake up and realize this was all a dream.

After that night things between you and Yoongi stayed pretty weird. Technically they were pretty normal for a married couple but for the two of you it was strange.

He started eating dinner with you at least once a week sometimes more. Some mornings you’d wake up to him making breakfast. The two of you never spoke much but ate in comfortable silence. One day he even insisted that he accompany you and Namjoon to the opening of a new art museum claiming that he didn’t want rumours to circulate about the two of you but the way he placed his arm around you any time Namjoon got a little too close for his liking told you differently.

Things peaked at weirdness on a chill October night. It was the annual Min Gala and the first big event that you and Yoongi would be attending together. There had been other smaller gatherings here and there but nothing of this level. The Min Gala was known globally for its luxury and grandeur while pulling in celebrities and royalty from around the world, and you were now going. Which is why you were currently staring at yourself in the full length mirror you had purchased for your room. The outfit, something Jimin had picked, a velvet navy blue floor length dress with a deep v cut in the front and a slit on the right side that almost went up to your hip. Even you had to admit that you looked incredible. While admiring yourself you heard Yoongi lightly knocked at the door, “Y/N we seriously have to get going. We’re gonna be late.” Not wanting to make him angry you grabbed your clutch and swung open the door not expecting him to still be standing there.

He looked you up and down with wide eyes. “Y-You look very nice.”, he stuttered. You gave a shy smile back, “You look very nice yourself.” He then lead the way for you two out to the waiting car.

When the driver pulled up to the event you went into panic mode. There must’ve been 100 photographers along with hundreds of other various personnel. You were very out of your element. Yoongi could sense your uneasiness. “I know it’s a lot Y/N but keep your head up and just look ahead. I’ll be there with you through the whole thing.” You nodded as the car door opened. Yoongi stepped out first then turned and gave you his hand to help you out also. He placed a hand on your lower back and started quickly but gently ushering you through the crowd. You did your best to politely ignore the various questions being thrown at you while also trying your best not to trip due to the blinding lights. Once inside you felt a rush of relief. One of the staff members came over and grabbed your coats while a waiter brought you a glass of champagne which you happily downed.

You fully expected Yoongi to run off to the first woman that looked his way and leave you to fend for yourself but surprisingly be stayed by your side until an older gentleman came over asking to speak with him for a bit. Yoongi excused himself and told you he’d be back shortly as business needed to be handled.

You weren’t alone long though before Jimin slid over wrapping you in a big hug and catching you up on all the gossip you missed. He was in the middle of telling you a story about his trip when another presence walked up next to you. The man looked vaguely familiar but you couldn’t quite place it. Luckily Jimin stepped right in to introduce you, “Oh Y/N please meet one of my really good friends. This is Taehyung.” The man gave you a big boxy smile before reaching out to shake your hand, “Hi Y/N, It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”, you smiled. Taehyung was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. He had soft black hair that had some natural curls which fell perfectly. Smooth skin and beautiful eyes. He was dressed impeccably. His outift a dark purple three piece suit. It reminded you a lot of the dark green suit Yoongi had on the day you met him and that’s when it hit you. You were talking to the famous fashion designer and owner of KTVY, a very prominent fashion line that had quickly entered the same ranks as well known brands like Dior or Versace.

You spoke with Jimin and Taehyung for a while listening to their various escapades. Taehyung playfully pouted when he realized you weren’t wearing one of his designs and Jimin being the one that picked it out made him pout even deeper. Taehyung started grabbing at your dress talking about the low quality and how he would’ve made a nicer dress for you. It was clear he was a very hands on person but you felt comfortable with him. “Looks like someone’s jealous.”, Jimin leaned over whispering into your ear. Glancing over your shoulder you spotted Yoongi staring back at you while ignoring the man next to him expressively talking with his hands. Instead of his trademark unreadable expression he actually looked angry and it made you feel a certain kind of way.

When he was finally able to break free from the conversation with his business partner Yoongi walked over and pulled you into him before placing a kiss on your cheek, “Come on Y/N. Let go find my parents.” As you were being drug away you quickly waved goodbye to Jimin and Taehyung missing the way they both rolled their eyes and giggled to each other like teenage girls. After your meeting with Jimin and Taehyung, Yoongi’s mood for the rest of the evening seemed to change. He refused to leave your side. Every ten minutes he’d tell you how beautiful you looked, the most beautiful woman in the world. He also decided to start trying to mask his anger by downing Jack and Cokes like they were water.

Eventually you were able to cut him off and convince him that it was time to go home so there you were waiting for the driver to pull up while you did your best to hold up the swaying Yoongi. Luckily you were able to sneak out the back so no one other than a few kitchen staff saw you. Once in the car you started digging around looking for a bucket or bag or anything incase Yoongi’s body decided to rid itself of the alcohol on the way home. Just as you reached to look in one of the cabinets you felt hands grabbing your waist pulling on you and you fell back onto the seat next to Yoongi.

He started nuzzling his face into your neck mumbling something you couldn’t quite understand. “Here you need to sit up.”, you said while doing your best to push him over. He looked at you with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks.

“You are not going to feel good tomorrow morning. This is gonna be the hangover of all hangovers.”

He scoffed, “Yeah well I can’t feel any worse than I did earlier.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked while searching the car for a bottle of water you knew he needed.

“The way Taehyung looked you up and down and the way he had his hands all over you. I’m gonna kill Jimin. I told him not to introduce the two of you.”

You snorted at his remark. Yoongi looked over at you, “I’m serious. And after I kill him he’s fired too.” You just laughed it off. You were like 99% sure Yoongi wouldn’t do either but you made a mental note to text Jimin later and give him a warning.

Once you were standing outside your penthouse door you were fumbling with the code while trying to keep Yoongi standing upright and you were really regretting not taking the help from the driver when he offered. Even though Yoongi had a small frame he was surprisingly heavy and the fact that he had zero control right now was not helping. After finally getting Yoongi in the door you started walking him towards the kitchen to get some water and some food in his system when suddenly he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him. Within seconds he had you pushed up against the wall with his arms on either side caging you in while using the wall to brace himself. Slowly he placed kisses starting behind your ear and trailing down towards your cleavage.

“Fuck that Kim Taehyung. I’m never buying shit from him again.”

You chuckled at his whiny statement before Yoongi grabbed your hips pulling you flush against him as he continued to pepper kisses all over any visible skin he could reach.

He moved his left hand to your lower back while his right hand slowly started moving down your hip to the slit in your dress that he gently started to toy with. “Y/N, I don’t know how you did this to me. I wanted to hate you so bad. I wanted to hate our situation. I tried so hard to prevent you from breaking down my walls but I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to love you and I’m scared because I think I’m starting to.”, he mumbled between kisses. He began to tease the lace of the black underwear that you had on and that’s when you broke out of your haze and stopped him.

He was drunk and you were sober and even though he initiated all of this it felt like taking advantage of him and there was also a part of you that was worried once he sobered up he’d regret everything and his words would mean northing.

“Come on Drunky. Let’s get you to bed.”, you said pulling him down the hall. He looked around the room confused, “Who the hell is Drunky?”, which earned a big eye roll on your part. You help him get undressed and put him in the bed. You tried to leave to go get some water and some pain killers but he grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the bed next to him, “Please stay with me. Every time you walk away from me I worry it’ll be the last time I ever see you.” Again you remembered that this was just the liquor talking and in the morning he’d probably be upset that you were even in his room. You nodded and laid in the bed so he rested his head on your chest as you began to run your fingers through his hair hoping it would soothe him to sleep faster.

Thankfully it worked like a charm because he was asleep within minutes and you quickly got the supplies you were looking for before setting them down next to his bed for easy access when he woke up the next morning.

You pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and did a double check once again to make sure that he had everything he would need before heading over to the door.

You stopped when you noticed a bottle sitting on his dresser. It was beautiful and very ornate. A matte red glass bottle with a gold topper. In big intricate letters it read ‘Solace, A Comforting Fragrance by KTVY’. You chuckled at the irony that this was his choice of cologne. Gently you popped open the top and the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla hit you and a wave of memories of the last year came flooding back. Taking a look over at the man who was now softly snoring you felt anxious and uncertain about the future. You knew how to handle cold cheating asshole Yoongi. That was easy. But this new Yoongi, the one who’s been trying to improve and who claims he’s falling in love, you don’t know how to move forward without getting hurt more than you already have been.

Placing the bottle back in its spot you walked out gently closing the door behind you.

The next morning Yoongi woke up with a massive headache. After downing the glass of water and pain killers he took a quick shower and walked out into the kitchen. You greeted him with a smile and placed a large plate of food down in front of him, “Here this is called Y/N’s happy hangover special. You need the grease and carbs. There’s also hot coffee ready for you but you need to finish a glass of water first.”

He smiled and began to dig into the food letting you know how good it was. He watched you walk over and water the blue hydrangea plant that he had delivered a few weeks ago. He thought back to that morning. He wasn’t sure what was more beautiful, the flowers themselves or the way your face lit up when you saw them.

Then like a bad flashback the events of the night before came back to him. How he was filled with jealousy watching Taehyung touch you. How he used alcohol to try and extinguish the flames that burned inside of him. The way he kissed you and grabbed at you like a horny teenager. How he told you he was falling in love with you. It was all true.

You hadn’t mentioned any of it yet though which concerned him. He thought maybe he’d upset you or took it too far too fast. He was worried that you didn’t take his words seriously and assumed they were only spoken thanks to his drunk state of mind.

He wanted to tell you all of that same stuff now, while sober, and maybe have a deeper more thorough discussion. He cleared his throat, “Umm Y/N, about last ni-.”

*Ding*

Checking your phone you saw a text from Jimin letting you know he was outside.

“Hey Yoongi I have to get going. I’m hanging out with Jimin today. Don’t wait up.”

“Oh okay.”

Grabbing your purse you ran out the door without looking back.

He bit his lip staring at the space you were no longer occupying. “I deserve that.”, he whispered before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #yoongi x y/n #arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #cinnamon&vanilla #yoongi au #yoongi

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mymoodwriting · 1 year ago

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Because You're Mine

Female!Reader x Werewolf!SKZ

Genre: A/B/O

Warning: Insomnia, Anxiety, Panic Attack, PTSD, Pheromones, ABO Dynamics, Mentions of Assault, Physical Assault, Restraints, Gags, Abuse, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Bullying

Words: 4.6K

Chapter One

(//Next) (@starillusion13)

Prompt: With omegas completely removed from society, they needed their own communities and institutions to grow. All your life you had lived and gone to school alongside your fellow omegas, and orphaned alphas. You had managed to keep yourself together, but now at the university level, keeping your secret had grown impossible. You had to face your fears and make friends with an alpha eventually, and now was the time.

“Can you believe it!? Tomorrow is graduation…”

“… yay…”

“Could you be any more excited?”

You sighed, staring up at the blank ceiling. You had honestly been dreading this day for years now, but it finally caught up to you. Graduation should be something to celebrate, but it just meant things were going to get harder for you. It was the reason why you were still awake so late into the night. You were anxious about tomorrow, whereas your roommate and best friend Jisung was excited. Even if he was making a joke he knew what was on your mind.

“Y/n… after graduation we’re gonna be moved to a different campus, a bigger one, and there-”

“I know.”

“You’re gonna get found out sooner or later… you should tell someone so-”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Y/n… you can’t hide this forever…”

“You can’t tell anyone!”

“Y/n-”

“Promise me, Jisung.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone… but I am worried about you…”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll figure something out.”

“Don’t forget I’m here for you.”

“I won’t. Thanks, Jisung.”

“We should probably get some sleep though.” Jisung chuckled. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah… good night, Jisung.”

“Good night, y/n.”

♥♥♥♥♥

Even if you only slept a few hours you still needed to be up early for graduation. You woke up before Jisung, letting him sleep in a bit more before getting him out of bed. Both your outfits were simple, but you still had to check in early at the ceremony site. It was kind of weird to have such a big celebration considering no one was here to see you. All the alphas and omegas here were orphans, never having known their parents. Besides faculty and staff, and the graduates themselves, no one else would be present. It made it feel like something was missing, but then again you just wanted this whole thing over with. After the long ceremony everyone was given a few hours to refresh and rest before the big party would begin. Of course you had no desire to attend, so you were just glad you could turn in early and enjoy a quiet night.

“Are you really not going?”

“It’s not her scene, Felix.” Jisung explained. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yup.” You smiled. “The whole dorm is gonna be quiet, so it’s like I have it all to myself.”

“That doesn’t sound bad at all. I’ll message you when I’m on my way back.”

“Cool. Now you two have fun.”

“Will do.”

Besides Jisung, you didn’t have many other friends. There was Felix who you knew pretty well, but he was more Jisung’s friend than yours. You were just fine with your mini circle of friends, although you weren’t sure how it would develop going forward. After graduation everyone got a week to just do as they pleased before the moving began. No one really had much to their name so when it came time to move it was fairly easy. You got lucky that Jisung was still your roommate, and you both loved the spacious upgrade to your dorm situation.

While in your high school years your dorm was pretty small, and for omegas only, the alphas had their own building. The school itself was also a decent size that could accommodate everyone that was there. For those couple years the alphas and omegas were separated with a few classes being co-ed. It would still be the same at the university level, but there was more of a choice. The alphas still had certain classes to take that were only for them, but omegas could pursue any type of knowledge by either taking omega only classes, or the co-ed ones.

The campus itself was also different. There were more students around in general. Those a year ahead of you, and also other incoming freshmen from other academies. It did feel a bit overwhelming, but you had a plan to make things easier for yourself. Besides the classes, there were some omega only spaces, and you’d be sticking to those. You wanted to pursue science and learn more about your world, whereas Jisung was excited to get into the arts. He was always very creative and passionate so you were excited to see where things went for him.

You took omega only classes, and afterwards you’d continue your studies in the library. There was an omegas only section there, and you always reserved a study room for yourself. On occasion Jisung and Felix would join you, having homework they needed to do. If you weren’t in class or at the library you’d simply go back to your dorm. There were plenty of omega only activities that you could participate in, but you preferred to keep for yourself. Although you were glad there was an arts class you and Jisung shared, Felix too.

“Y/n, you’re not looking too good.” Felix commented. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? I’m just tired, stayed up late last night studying.”

“Why did you choose science? It can be pretty hard.”

“Yeah but there are some questions I want to find answers for.”

“But aren’t the more advanced classes co-ed?” Jisung mentioned. “You’d only be able to go so far.”

“I know.”

“What does that mean?” Felix questioned.

“Nothing.” You assured. “I’m gonna head back to the dorm and catch up on some sleep. You guys can use my study room reservation if you need to.”

“Thanks.” Jisung smiled. “You get some sleep.”

“Will do. You two stay out of trouble.”

“No promises.”

When you got back to your dorm you put your bag down and dived into bed, snuggling the sheets. Luckily sleep came easy, so you got some good rest. You woke up a few hours later, checking the time and seeing you still had some daylight. You got out of bed to freshen up so you could do your assignments. While you were in the bathroom you heard the door unlocking, a bit surprised to hear that Jisung was back so soon. Usually he’d barely be getting out of a class at this time.

You stepped out to go greet him, and then the scent hit you. Jisung wasn’t at the door, it was an alpha. You quickly scrambled back to the bathroom and locked the door. You were already finding it difficult to breathe but you needed to calm down in order to hide yourself. You had no idea why an alpha was in your dorm, or how they got a key, but you didn’t care for it. All you wanted was for them to leave. You heard some rummaging around, and then things got quiet. You thought maybe they had left, but then you heard the bathroom door knob jiggle, followed by a knock.

“Are you okay in there?”

The voice was not Jisung at all, nor was it anyone you recognized. Of course it wasn’t anybody you knew, you didn’t socialize with alphas.

“I’m fine!” You stammered out. “Please… please leave…”

“Are you sure? You sound stressed and your scent-”

“Go away!”

You wanted to get away from the door and wound up tripping over the floor mat. You hit your head against the wall, reaching over to the wound and feeling the throbbing from the pain.

“Are you okay!”

Now the alpha was trying to open the door again with far greater urgency. Your vision was a bit blurry, but hearing the alpha try to break in shot your fear up to eleven. With the pain in your head, and the feeling of impending doom it was becoming very hard to breathe or focus. You screamed when you heard the alpha throwing themselves against the door. You were frozen in fear, starting to cry, and desperately hoping they’d hear your cries for them stop. It didn’t help though, and soon enough the door swung open. You couldn’t see the alpha through your tears, but they didn’t hesitate to approach you, even if you tried to push them away.

“Let me see. Are you hurt?”

The alpha pulled you into their arms and moved your hand away, examining your head. Thankfully you weren’t bleeding, but now that they were close they could smell the fear and panic on you.

“What’s wrong? Did someone-”

“Go away!”

You tried to push the alpha away from you again, but they only grabbed your hands which made you squirm all the more. You desperately tried to pull away but they kept their grasp firm, and only pulled you closer to them. They spoke softly to you, looking at you with sincere concern on their face.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The alpha asked. “It’s okay, you’re not bleeding. You’re not hurt, you’re just fine.”

You continued to scream and thrash, just wanting the alpha to leave you alone and go away but they weren’t listening. Instead they pulled you into their embrace and wrapped their arms around you, trying to sooth you.

“Deep breaths, it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

You couldn’t get away from their scent now that your face was buried in their chest. They smelled nice, and you could definitely tell they were trying to calm you down but it was directly clashing with your desire to escape. You were still trying to fight, but their scent was getting to you, turning your screams into silent cries.

“There, there, you’re okay, you’re okay, I got you.”

“Y/N!”

Jisung returned to the dorm out of breath, looking around in a panic while calling your name. Soon enough he found you in the bathroom and his eyes went wide.

“Let her go, Chan!”

Without hesitation Jisung pulled Chan away from you, shoving him out of the bathroom and focusing his attention on you.

“Are you okay, y/n? Hey, can you hear me?”

“… jisung… is that… you…”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“… jisung…”

You were still scared and out of it, your eyes were starting to tear up again. You could barely talk through your sobs.

“It’s okay, I’m here, it’s okay. Let’s get you out of these clothes and into a shower.”

Jisung got up to turn on the shower head, making sure the water was warm before putting you under it. He got you out of your shirt, and took off his own jacket, holding it out to you.

“Here. That’s my scent, just take a deep breath. You’re okay.”

“Jisung-”

“Get out!”

Jisung got up and pushed Chan away, shoving him out of the dorm. The other boy didn’t fight him, but was very confused over the situation.

“Jisung, what-”

“Get out before security realizes you’re here. And not a word of this to anyone!”

“What just happened!?”

“Nothing, now go.”

Jisung shut the door and took a breath before getting back to you. He found you with your face buried in his jacket, now completely soaked from the water. After a while he helped you out of the shower, drying you off with a towel and tossing your wet clothes in the corner. You leaned against him, resting your head on his chest, breathing in his scent and gradually calming down. You felt much better now.

“I’m sorry.” Jisung apologized. “It slipped my mind that you were in the dorm. I thought it’d be no problem to have Chan come and get something of his while I was in class. This is all my fault, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine… nothing bad happened…”

“I’ll talk to him, make sure-”

“It’s okay, Jisung. I’m glad you’ve made friends.”

“You can be mad at me, you know.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know. I put you in danger…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” You assured. “How did you meet this alpha anyway?”

“Oh, we’re in the same class and share a couple interests. So we kind of hit it off from there.”

“Look at you, making friends.”

“Stop it.”

“Just saying. I’m happy for you.”

It took a bit but you were able to put the whole thing behind you and continue with your life. Jisung didn’t bring it up again, but he was a bit more cautious around you. The only difference was that every now and then you would see Chan around Jisung. You knew they were friends and nothing bad was gonna happen, but you still felt uneasy. Whenever Chan would notice you around you’d quickly avoid his gaze and hurry along with your business. Besides all that you didn’t think anything would come of the previous incident, but you were wrong.

“Ms. y/n?”

“Uh… yes… how can I help you?”

“The headmaster wants to see you.”

“Wa… what for…”

“Please come with us.”

After one of your classes two faculty members, along with a security guard, approached you. Just seeing them put you on edge, so the fact they were asking for you specifically made it worse. You had no choice in the matter but to go with them.

♥♥♥♥♥

“Jisung!”

Felix came running into the cafeteria, finding his friend at one of the tables. He interrupted the group conversation but he didn’t care. He took a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“What’s up?”

“It’s y/n…” Felix breathed. “I saw her being escorted by faculty and security.”

“What!? Why!?”

“I don’t know, but she seemed scared.”

“Scared… what would-”

Jisung stopped in his tracks and looked over at Chan. The boy was silent, but a glint in his eyes told Jisung everything.

“What did you do!”

“There’s something going on with your friend and I’m trying to help.”

“You’ve done the opposite of help.” Jisung snapped. “Fuck!”

There was only one place you’d wind up. Jisung got up, leaving his things behind and bolting out of the cafeteria. Chan chased after him and caught up to him, holding him back.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business!”

“Jisung, whatever’s going on isn’t good.”

“You don’t know anything!”

“All I know is that she was panicking for no reason and I wasn’t actually helping.”

“You have no idea.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“It’s not my story to tell, and it’s too late now. So let go!”

“You’re not gonna get her out of this.”

“I know that, but she’s also not gonna be able to speak for herself.”

♥♥♥♥♥

You nervously sat outside the headmaster’s office, fidgeting with your hands and shaking your leg. This could be nothing related to what you were thinking, but at the same time it could be. If that was the case, well, Jisung always told you that you’d get found out in the end. While thinking of him you suddenly heard your name called.

“Y/n!”

Jisung came running down the hall towards you. He was out of breath but still took your hand, pulling you onto your feet and into a hug.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m scared…”

“I know, I know, but everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Jisung…”

“Deep breaths. I’m here with you.”

Jisung took his jacket off and put it on your shoulders, pulling you into his arms. Just then the door to the headmasters office opened. The secretary asked for you to step in, but Jisung wasn’t going to let you go in alone. He kept a hold of your hand and pushed his way into the office with you.

“What’s going on?” Headmaster Shim asked.

“I want to ask the same thing.”

The headmaster raised a brow and Jisung quickly apologized. Even if he had the strength to stand up for you, the headmaster was still an alpha and held power over any omega.

“… sorry… I… I need to know why you called y/n here.”

“Why?”

“The matter may pertain to me. I’ve been her roommate since high school.”

“I see. This may pertain to you as well. Sit. Both of you.”

You both sat down in front of the headmaster’s desk, Jisung still holding your hand. You couldn’t make eye contact with the headmaster, and kept your head low. That way Jisung’s scent was right in your face and could keep you calm.

“Now. I received a report of unusual, and concerning, behavior in regards to y/n. I’m beginning to understand the reason for the report. So, which of you will explain?”

“That depends. You-”

“Mr… what was your name again?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.”

“Mr. Jisung, you seem to know more about this incident than anyone else. I’m not happy with what I am seeing right now, and I need to know what is going on in order to fix it. So please, tell me what is going on.”

Jisung glanced over at you. He couldn’t imagine how you felt right now being so close to an alpha, but he could feel a slight tremble coming from your hand. He knew there was no hiding this anymore. For your sake he needed to speak the truth, no matter what happened. Jisung got up and pulled you into his arms again, softly rubbing your back.

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.” Jisung took a breath. “Headmaster Shim.”

“Yes?”

“Y/n was assaulted her sophomore year of high school.”

“Excuse me?”

You buried your face into Jisung’s chest, trying to focus on his scent and not his words. You couldn’t help the tremble in your body, biting your lip to hold back tears. You thought you could forget that horrible night, but it always lingered in the back of your mind. You feared the day it would come to light as you had no idea what the consequences would be.

♥♥♥♥♥

“We told you to back off!”

You were always a loner that kept to herself. You only managed to make friends with your roommate Jisung, and were kinda friends with his friend, Felix. Besides that you stuck to yourself. You didn’t cause trouble, and you never wanted to, but it wound up finding you. There was this alpha in your class. Super pretty and very popular. He had both alphas and omegas fawning over him. You weren’t interested, but apparently he was interested in you. Because of that you had a target on your back

Just because alphas and omegas were meant to end up together, it wouldn’t stop them from dating one another while young. Even then one didn’t know what the future held. It made sense for omegas to fawn over alphas, but the opposite wasn’t so common, especially when it was an alpha crushing on an omega. What upset everyone the most is that you weren’t already crushing on the alpha, so the others felt like you didn’t deserve his affections. You only thought he was being nice to you, and you were grateful for that, but you didn’t think there was much else to his kindness. Although you’d soon learn it didn’t come with consequences.

You’d always stay late after classes to get your assignments done. So by the time you left the library the school would mostly be empty. After one of your study sessions you were making your way through the empty hall when you were suddenly attacked. A bag was placed over your head and you felt multiple hands grabbing you and dragging you away. You didn’t know what was happening, but you knew you were being taken down some stairs. Then you had your hands tied behind your back, and your legs tied together. The bag over your head never came off, but it was pulled up in order to gag you.

Once you were restrained things got quiet. You could hear multiple heartbeats around you, and some low whispers. Then you began to catch scents. You couldn’t identify anyone at the moment, but you knew that they were all alphas. You had never been afraid of alphas before, or saw them as greater than you, but this was seriously scaring you. After a long while you felt this crowd approach you, someone kicking you over onto your back. You moved over to be on your side but got shoved onto your back again, someone putting their foot on your chest to keep you still.

“You should’ve known better.”

“An alpha like that wouldn’t choose someone like you. So what did you do!”

“She’s just a desperate omega trying to get attention.”

“If you want the attention of an alpha there are plenty others to choose from.”

“So how are we gonna teach this omega a lesson?”

“I have an idea. Got this from the infirmary.”

“What is it?”

“No idea, but it’s not meant for students.”

“Are you sure it won’t kill her?”

“Doubt it, but we can give her a little bit just to be safe.”

You started squirming again when you heard them talk about giving you something, but the pressure on your chest only got more severe. You already felt like you couldn’t breathe, and the panic you were feeling only made it worse. You felt the bag over your head being lifted up, followed by a pinch on your neck. You started desperately thrashing around to no avail, and soon enough you began to feel uncomfortable in your own skin. It started off gradually, like a fever, but it was soon becoming unbearable. You didn’t want to cry, but you were certainly screaming into the gag, desperate for anything to make this feeling go away.

You could hear laughter though. Everyone had stepped back to watch the show, to watch you suffer. After a while you stopped screaming and were just crying for help, but they all ignored you. Sometimes they’d step forward to kick you, wanting to see your reaction. Your head was spinning, and your body was tired from fighting the restraints. You were certain you were going to pass out soon enough, but they weren’t gonna let you go quietly. Now that you had calmed down they got closer, poking at you softly. Even if they were so close you couldn’t identify anyone, all you had was a mixing scent of alphas and no one else. They kept bothering you until you actually passed out, realizing you were no fun unconscious.

Even when you woke up later you had no idea how much time had passed. You were still in the dark, your body sore and aching all over. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry or scream, everything having been rung out of you. In this situation you weren’t even sure if anyone would find you, or if the alphas that did this would drop a hint as to where you were. The thought of dying there crossed your mind, it was so grim, but you had no idea what those alphas were capable of doing. At some point you must have passed out again, but with the bag over your head it was hard to figure out if you were really awake or not.

“Y/n!”

You heard your name being called, and even though you were exhausted your body tensed up. You were trembling from fear, whimpering as well. When you felt a hand on you your body flinched.

“I’m sorry… just…”

You felt the bag come off your head and immediately shut your eyes. You needed a second to adjust to the light. Whoever was here helped you sit up, giving your arms a bit of a break. You slowly peeked your eyes open, coming to find a familiar face. You felt tears well up in your eyes, your body relaxing a bit as well.

“What happened to you…”

Jisung undid your arms and legs, getting the gag off you as well. Once you were free you started crying and Jisung gently pulled you into his arms. Breathing in his scent further put you at ease, and he just held you for however long you needed him to. You’d later find out it was the next morning. After missing two classes Jisung ditched the next to go looking for you. Everyone thought you were sick but he wasn’t buying it. After all, he was your roommate and knew you weren’t in the dorm. Not to mention when he went to sleep and woke up you weren’t there. He retraced your steps and followed your fading scent from outside the library, finding you in a wretched situation in the basement.

You were in no condition to be going to class, although you pleaded with Jisung to just get you back to the dorm instead of going to the infirmary. Despite his better judgment he did as you asked. Back at the dorm you took a cold shower, wanting to wash everything away. You broke down again and Jisung held you, doing his best to assure you that everything was going to be alright. When you were strong enough you told him what had happened to you. He wanted to go to the headmasters office now more than before but you didn’t want to make a big deal of this or get them in trouble. You sounded crazy to him, but you begged him to keep quiet.

Jisung kept your secret, but he also kept a closer eye on you. He didn’t leave you alone after that, and he could also see how you changed. You avoided the alphas from the class, all of them. You didn’t know who was responsible but the scent of an alpha alone would make you panic. Jisung was weary of all the alphas too, but he just focused on looking after you and getting through the rest of the year. Over time you were able to be like your old self, but he knew you’d never be the same again. You still avoided all the alphas, even the teachers. You were doing okay, but Jisung knew that the truth would get exposed one day.

♥♥♥♥♥

“Why wasn’t this reported earlier?”

To say that headmaster Shim was angry was an understatement. For a second Jisung tensed up from the shift in scent, but they quickly composed themselves.

“I… she didn’t… she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble…”

“The reason for the OCPD is to look after omegas. If any alpha were to go against that ideal then they are not fit to be agents.” Headmaster Shim took a breath. “I will gather a list of the alphas from your high school class and we’ll need to-”

“No.”

You were shaking your head, trembling in Jisung’s embrace. The incident may have been nearly three years ago but it felt like just yesterday for you.

“I’m overlooking the fact that you didn’t report this to me when it happened, but the guilty party can not go unpunished. Miss y/n here may not be the only victim to this type of cruel behavior. Not to mention a staff member from the infirmary failed to report a supply discrepancy. This goes beyond just the two of you.”

“I… I’m sorry…” You mumbled. “I’m sorry…”

“What happens then?” Jisung asked. “After you catch those responsible.”

“They’ll be removed from the institution and miss y/n needs to begin therapy.”

“Therapy?”

“She’s been trembling since she set foot in here because I’m an alpha. And her records show she avoids any interaction with alphas in general, not to mention her behavior in regards to the recent incident. You also need to explain that one. An alpha shouldn’t be in the omega dorm.”

“Right…”

“For now the priority is with miss y/n. We can have a separate conversation later.”

“Of course, but I don’t want y/n going through any of this alone.”

“I appreciate that, but you are also an omega like herself. Part of her therapy will involve reworking her relationship with an alpha. I’ll need to find someone to-”

“Chan…” You whispered.

“Huh?” Jisung questioned. “What did you say?”

“Chan… he… he’s okay…”

“What?”

“Is that your choice?” Headmaster Shim asked. “You’d like him to assist with your situation going forward?”

“… yes…”

“That’s good. It gives us a good starting point.”

“You want to hang out with Chan?” Jisung wondered. “Really?”

“He was nice…”

326 notes · View notes

a-yellow-van · 10 months ago

Text

Wish You Were Here | Part 1

We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

20 years after the outbreak, you’re a stable, well established member in the community of Jackson, Wyoming. You have been for a long time now, the horrors, the brutality of survival buried deep inside, leaving place to the safe simplicity of routine. You didn’t think there’s anything that could disturb that, after all you’ve been through. That is, until you meet Joel Miller, and a drunken choice leads to…much more. Set in between Part I and Part II. Canon compliant (I'm breaking my own heart)

Series masterlist

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Fanfic tags : canon compliant, slow burn, romance, eventual smut, angst, hurt/comfort, joel and the reader are terrible at feelings, female reader, no use of y/n, reader is in early 30s, past relationships, trauma/PTSD, grief, loss, post-apocalypse, joel is a good parent to ellie, major character death, original characters, queer characters, bisexual main character, age difference, canon-typical violence

WC for Part 1 : 4.5 k

Warnings for Part 1 : drinking, swearing, implied sexual content

New Year’s Eve 2034. Jackson’s tavern is packed to the brim, people in every corner of the room, almost shoulder to shoulder. It’s hot and humid inside; layers have been shed, revealing patches of sticky skin. A musky, sickly sweet smell assaults your nose : a mix of sweat, booze and dust, making you nostalgic for a time you never knew, before the world fell apart. The windows are fogged up, blocking out the view of snow falling peacefully, coating the street. You’ve rarely seen anything like it. Nearly every adult survivor in the community has seemingly decided to come out tonight, and the fact that Eugene has finally dipped into his batch of mead, home brewed by the barrel, is most certainly to blame. Maria, Jackson’s leader, doesn’t exactly approve, but she’s making an exception. Just for the holiday. You spot her at the back; she’s holding hands with Tommy, her husband, protectively watching over the crowd. Eugene’s feeling particularly generous this evening; he offers a hefty bottle to whoever asks, reminding each lucky recipient to “savour ‘cause she’s been fermenting since July!” You must have heard that sentence a good twenty five times since you got your own bottle, the words getting progressively less intelligible as Eugene indulges in his creation. You’re still not certain why he refers to his mead like it is a woman, and frankly, you’re afraid to find out. One thing’s for sure, the beverage is incredibly strong, has a horrid taste, burning your throat like acid with every drop. It’s questionably safe for consumption, but the occasions to get shitfaced in the midst of an apocalypse are quite limited, so you endure. Even Jackson’s most reclusive members agree with that notion. Including him. Joel Miller. He’s nursing a drink at a table near the bar, opposite to the one you’re sharing with your usual group. You wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but they’re fellow patrollers, close to you in age, so, naturally, you’ve grown familiar.

“What are you looking at?” Max, the one you’ve known the longest, nudges you with their elbow.

Your gaze quickly snaps back to meet theirs. You realise you’ve been staring at the older man. Noticeably. You don’t quite know why. Maybe he intrigues you, all quiet and pensive in the middle of a rowdy celebration. His expression is hard to read, but there’s a hint of…sadness? You get a hold of yourself and brush off the thought.

“Nothing,” you lie. Max cocks an eyebrow, a little grin forms on their lips, freckled cheeks dimple.

“Uh-huh.” There’s a glint of malice in their green eyes. “You sure? No one particular caught your attention?”

You don’t let their teasing get to you. “Nah. Just checking at Seth trying to hit on Leanne,” you reply without missing a beat, “for the millionth time.” This one isn’t a lie, as the scene really is unfolding a few metres away. You blink at Max, feigning innocence. They narrow their eyes, not buying it.

“Man, when is he gonna get the hint?” Fred chips in, breaking the unspoken exchange between you and Max. She quickly peeks in the direction of the duo, a muscly arm propped on the back of her chair, long cornrows draped across the other shoulder. She scoffs, and takes a swig of her drink. “She looks like she’s seconds away from kicking him in the balls.”

“Don’t know how she hasn’t done that, like, years ago.” It’s Astrid’s turn to talk. She sighs, shaking her head, her wavy golden blonde hair rustling with the movement.

“Maybe you should go beat him up for her, A,” Fred jokingly suggests. “Bet she’d like that.”

“Don’t give me ideas,” Astrid responds, seriously. “I’d have him in a wheelchair for the rest of his days.”

“Oh, yeah. And then you and Leanne would run off into the sunset,” Max adds, taking their attention off you, finally. They start screeching in a horrible, high-pitched voice. “Oh, Astrid! Oh, thank you! You saved me from the big, bad man! I lo-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Astrid cuts them off, cheeks reddening.

“Hmm. I think they hit a little nerve there, A,” Fred continues, laughing, moving her arm to playfully put it around a flustered Astrid. She’s too easy, you think. It’s pretty endearing.

“Who are you kidding,” you join in Astrid’s torment. “You can’t even say hi to Leanne without stuttering.” The woman gets even redder, the angry tint reaching her pale neck. Fred and Max giggle. “You’re such a teenager,” Max strikes.

“Just fucking drink.” Astrid commands the three of you, pouring the group another round.

“Fair enough,” Max says, before clinking glasses with Fred in front of them. Astrid finishes hers in one gulp, which makes her cough, while you sip slowly. The buzz is setting in. It’s nice. It eases the burden on your aching shoulders.

You let your companions carry the conversation as the night progresses, occasionally humming or laughing at a remark. You’re not exactly concentrating. You keep getting drawn back to Joel Miller, for some reason. He arrived in Jackson last summer, about six months ago. Him and a kid, a girl, around fourteen or fifteen. You assumed that was his daughter, but soon learned that you were wrong. People talk, especially in such a small community. Something about Joel smuggling her across the country for the fireflies? A failed operation, clearly. You heard the organisation disbanded since then. It was about time. You’re surprised they lasted that long in the first place. He’s Tommy’s older brother. There’s history there, you know some of it; Joel already had a bit of a reputation before ever passing through Jackson’s gates. He hasn’t done much to help it since then; he barely interacts with anyone besides Tommy and Ellie, the girl. He keeps to himself, brooding, silently observing, tough, cold, detached. That’s how Joel’s treated you on the few patrols you’ve had to go on together these past months. He usually works with Tommy, you usually work with Max, but Maria likes to switch around the schedule occasionally to test out different pairings. You and Joel have done a very efficient job, only speaking when absolutely necessary, technical terms only, mumbling salutations. However, on the last patrol, in early December, you made a great shot at a stalker, and you could have sworn Joel’s mouth twitched in approval. It was so short it might have been a product of your imagination, but then, after coming back to Jackson and bringing your horses to the stable, he mumbled your last name instead of his usual grunt goodbye. It’s fair to assume there’s mutual respect for each other’s skill there. Nothing else. So then, why does your gaze keep returning to his tousled, greying curls, scruffy beard, piercing brown eyes, and the scar on his left temple? Maybe it’s the alcohol. Yeah, that must be it-

Joel’s eyes suddenly lock with yours. Your heart skips a beat, making you choke on your drink. Shit. What the hell was that? Fred immediately interrupts the story she’s telling and you feel three pairs of eyes on you. You clear your throat, looking down at the table.

“Sorry. Went down the wrong pipe,” you mutter. They keep staring. “Uh, Fred, what were you-”

And then, as if the universe takes pity on you, Mike, Jackson’s butcher, jovial fellow in his early sixties (but barely a wrinkle creasing his dark skin) claps loudly and calls out over the incessant chatter.

“How about some music, huh?” A few supporters acclaim him. He pushes through the crowd, reaching the old console piano standing at the south wall, underneath a window. Around, some tables have been stored away, allowing some space for dancing. The instrument is in poor shape, the keys are yellowed, a pedal has fallen off. Mike sits on the worn piano bench. Most survivors in the tavern have momentarily lowered their volume, following the man’s moves. He tries a little riff. Not as bad as was expected, just slightly off tune. You know he’ll make it work. “Alright. Get ready to groove, everyone!” He plays the intro to Johnny B. Goode by Chuck Berry perfectly, earning cheers and applause. Chair legs scrape on the ground, glasses and bottles are snatched up as the crowd converge around Mike.

“Woo! Come on!” Fred exclaims. She stands and takes Astrid’s arm, forcing her patrol partner up. Astrid resists, but just for the principle, a beaming smile on her face. The pair leaves, already bobbing their heads to the rhythm. Max takes another shot before shuffling away from the table on legs rendered wobbly by the booze. They hold their hand out to you, but you don’t take it yet. You dare look over at a certain someone again, who is grounded in his seat, indifferent to the change of mood. Max wiggles their fingers impatiently.

“I’ll, uh- I’ll join you later,” you say, averting their eyes.

“Ugh. Fine. You suck,” they reply.

You raise your middle finger in response. They turn away abruptly, flashing the back of their frayed jean vest, the sleeves cut off by hand. Max catches up with Astrid and Joey, and you watch as they start dancing, snorting at how uncoordinated the three are. You’ve downed a good five drinks now. One more won’t do any harm, right? You fill up your glass with the last drops of mead from the current bottle. Warmth spreads through your veins, making your head throb in a pleasant way. Your eyelids are heavy, your surroundings blurred. Something is clear, though. You and Joel are amongst the very few survivors that aren’t taking part in the fun. Hell, even Maria’s letting her husband spin her around.

And then it happens again. Joel meets your gaze. But this time, he holds it for a couple of seconds, before looking to the side and rubbing his chin. Almost like he’s doing it on purpose. You must be drunker than you thought, because that makes no fucking sense. And what your clouded brain makes you do next is even less logical. Slowly, you rise, and walk unsteadily to the now deserted bar, heading towards Joel. Your heart picks up its pace. This is so stupid . You sit down at one of the stools, just a few feet away from him. You lean over the counter, resting your head in your hand, staring straight ahead at the row of vintage bottles aligned on a shelf behind the bar. On the piano, Mike has moved on to I’m Still Standing by Elton John, his voice strong, smooth. You catch a glimpse of Joel in your peripheral. He’s tensed up ever so slightly, his back straightened. He’s aware of your presence. This is so stupid.

“Hey, Miller,” you hear yourself speak, still looking ahead, but loud enough he can hear you.

He sighs. That’s something. He hasn’t gotten up and walked away, he hasn’t told you to get lost. He’s acknowledged you. It’s full of irritation, sure, but it gives you enough motivation to keep going.

“Not a fan of the music?” You attempt a sultry tone and make yourself cringe. Great start. Joel grunts, takes a swig of mead and crosses a leg over the other, nonchalant.

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly peg this as your scene,” you continue, gesturing vaguely at the crowd. The booze has taken the reins, and you can’t hold your tongue.

A full minute passes in silence. You’re about to give up. And then Joel talks, gruff, sarcastic, the inebriation accentuating the southern drawl in his voice. “Right. And like you’d know, of all people.”

A sentence. Joel Miller just spoke a full sentence to you. You’re stunned.

“Fair point,” you recover after a few seconds. “You just, uh, don’t really seem like the social type.” A pause. You feel Joel’s gaze burning the back of your neck. “No offence,” you add.

“None taken.” Joel downs the rest of his drink, exhales. “You’re not dancin’ either,” he observes.

“Perceptive,” you retort. You spin on your stool, now facing him. A corner of his mouth curves upwards almost imperceptibly. It goes back down immediately, but you caught it. And it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve made the grumpy bastard smile, or, well, the closest to it he can probably manage.

“Why not?” he questions. “Your friends looks like they’re havin’ fun.” He nods his chin over at Max, who’s gone up to the piano and is belting the lyrics to the song, stomping their feet, while Mike plays the melody. Two things : first, Joel knows who you hang out with, which means he’s not completely oblivious to who you are, and second, he’s making conversation with you. Astonishing.

“Guess I’d rather be bothering you.” You shrug, trying to suppress a smile. “Thought you’d have cursed me out by now, if I’m honest.”

Joel scratches his forehead. “Dunno why I haven’t,” he mumbles.

“Maybe you should.” Did you really just say that? Did you just try to flirt with him? And why did his gaze flicker to your lips?

He looks back up and narrows his eyes at you. “Nah. You don’t want that.”

You don’t miss a beat. “Hey, I could take it.” You’re maintaining eye contact from your seat at the bar. “I’m tough.” Well, this is happening. Damn Eugene and his mead .

The ever-so-subtle smirk passes over Joel’s face for the second time. He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna make you cry.”

“Hm. How considerate,” you reply, unable to fight a little smile. Joel emits a short, low, rumbling sound.

“Was that a laugh?” You ask, the smile growing larger.

“Hm. No.” He goes right back to irritation. But still, he’s not pushing you away. So, in your drunken state, you decide to test the limits. You slip off the stool and take a step towards Joel. He furrows his brows, but doesn’t say anything. You take another step, and then another, until you reach his table. There’s no going back now.

“Uhm, mind- mind if I sit?”

“Are you really gonna leave if I say no?” He asks, rhetorically. He’s challenging you. You feel your cheeks heat up and your stomach drop. You pull the chair out and settle on it. You’re suddenly very conscious of your near proximity to Joel. The courage you had mere minutes ago is disappearing; you have to fuel it up. You grab an empty, upside-down glass sitting near two bottles of mead, one empty, one half full. Joel is acting quite coherent for a man who’s had that much. You tilt your head in request.

Joel scoffs. “Go ahead.”

You pour yourself a seventh drink, knowing perfectly well that it is an absolutely terrible idea. You down most of it in one gulp, wincing, before putting the glass back down with a thud.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Joel asks, the nickname dripping with irony. Still, your stomach does another flip. “Can’t hold your liquor?” He mocks. He leans back in his chair, legs open, right hand on his knee, left hand palm down on the table. Your gaze travels from his face, down his neck, to his broad chest where the small unbuttoned portion of his flannel reveals a few dark hairs. What the hell are you doing? Your eyes snap back up

“Fuck off,” you mutter under your breath. Joel looks pleased with himself. You finish your drink, looking straight at him, taunting.

“What was that?” he asks, even though he heard you perfectly. His smug smirk is assured now. You don’t answer. Joel fills up his glass. You take it as a sign that he intends to see this interaction through. Fine by you. You search the depths of your sluggish brain to find something witty to say.

“So, Miller. What’s with the accent?” This is the best you can come up with. The words are slurred.

He scoffs again. “Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” he says, pointedly adding your last name. He’s playing you.

“Ah, come on, cowboy ” you continue, impressed by your own audacity, “Where you from?”

Tommy has mentioned this to you before. Definitely somewhere south, but you can’t recall in your current state. And you want to hear Joel say it.

He rolls his eyes at the nickname, but he doesn’t stop smirking. “Texas. Austin.” He takes a sip. “You?”

Texas. Right. Makes sense. In a way, you feel proud to have gotten this minimal piece of information out of him. You didn’t think you’d ever witness Joel Miller opening up to you, not even a tiny crack. But here you are.

“Washington. Seattle.” You copy the structure of his answer; Joel nods, casual. “Uh, you’re a long way from home,” you add.

“Yup.” He doesn’t elaborate. Takes yet another sip. “Seattle, huh?” His gaze pierces through you, eyebrows knitted in reflection. “Born and raised?”

“Yeah…” You’re not certain what he’s getting at.

“There’s a QZ, right?” A pause. “D’you end up in it?” he questions.

The words are like a slap in the face, sobering you up a little. You don’t want to think of that right now. Not at all. You look down, fidgeting with your empty glass.

“Hmm,” you confirm.

“Damn. Heard things got pretty bad up there,” Joel says. You wish he’d just shut up. You don’t like this turn the conversation took.

“Yeah, well, I left, so.” The sentence comes out harsher than you had planned. Joel understands the message; he raises his hands up in defence.

“Got it. Sorry I asked.” The guy doesn’t look one bit apologetic. It frustrates you, and yet…You’re enjoying this little game.

“Yeah, watch it, Miller,” you warn, but your tone has gone back to being playful. Joel relaxes in his seat. He rests an elbow on his denim-encased thigh, shifting his weight.

You proceed. “So what’d you do? In Texas?”

“Hm. Contractor.” He really is a man of few words. His past occupation suits him like a glove.

“Fitting.” You give him an unimpressed pout; he stays unbothered.

“Yeah, yeah. What’d you do, then?” He asks.

It makes you chuckle. “Uh, middle school student. 6th grade sucked ass.”

Joel takes a second to register. Something quickly washes over his face, an emotion you can’t quite discern, before vanishing. You’re too drunk to analyse it.

“Huh. I would have guessed elementary,” he states.

“Aw. Don’t flatter me,” you reply, dryly.

“I’m not. Just sayin’ you don’t seem like you’ve learned much past fourth grade,” Joel says with a shit-eating grin.

Wow. You’re speechless. And then you burst out laughing. And, miraculously, Joel starts chuckling with you, the corner of his eyes crinkling. The sound is hearty, surprisingly warm. It’s the kind of laughter that you would try your hardest to hear as often as possible. That could make you all fuzzy inside, if you’d let it. And just like that, the tension that had been building between the two of you breaks. It’s comfortable, you’re at ease. The moment stretches out; you feel a strange connection with Joel, and you wonder if it’s mutual, or if you’re going completely insane. It’s probably the second option. You manage to utter a few profanities, between two breaths. Joel watches, amused, waiting for you to calm down.

“Alright, you’ve got me there,” you concede, a smile lingering on your lips.

Joel’s expression has softened. He looks younger, somehow, like a few years of constant stress have been erased just by talking with you.

“I may not be the brightest, but at least I can take a joke.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Joel fills your glass with the remnants of the mead, while you push a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to conceal a blush. “You deserve it,” he explains, “if you can take another round.”

“You keep underestimating me.” You raise your glass up in the air.

Joel imitates you. “No hard feelings?” He suggests.

“Deal.” You clink Joel’s glass with your own, and tilt your head back to swallow the foul liquid as quickly as you can, your gut churning in protest. You groan.

“Think my estimation was correct, actually,” Joel quips. You look over at him. Besides a slight glaze over his eyes, he appears unaffected by the alcohol.

“How are you doing this?” You ask, baffled.

He shrugs. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“And by there, you mean kidney disease?” You naively bat your eyelashes at him.

“I’ve survived worse,” he remarks. It’s lighthearted, but it hides a bleak truth you know all too well. You ignore it.

“Yeah. It shows.” You tease, giving him a scrutinising up-and-down.

“Hm. Funny. You didn’t seem to mind it that much when you were starin’ earlier.”

Jesus Christ.

Game over. Joel wins, one million to zero. You want to bash your head against the table, or run very far away, preferably out of Wyoming. And get torn apart by clickers. Instead, you stay right where you are, mouth agape, cartoonish. Fucking idiot. Are you twelve?

“That’s not- I- I- wasn’t-”

Joel is delighted by your reaction.

You wisely decide to shut up and quit stuttering. As if on cue, Mike hits the iconic intro to Don’t Stop Me Now. Max starts singing dramatically, in an offensively bad Freddie Mercury impression. Some survivors join in, not a single one on key, resulting in a cacophony. You take it as an opportunity to get out of the situation. You scramble off the chair and start walking away, stumbling and catching yourself on a nearby table.

“Where you goin’? We weren’t done.” Joel calls after you. You turn around.

“Me? Oh just stretching my legs.” You start stepping side to side and swaying your shoulders, following the rhythm. “Showing some love to the artists.” You shoot two fingers at him, moving your arms to the music. Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re terrible.”

“Well then why don’t come here and try to do better!” You shout back, doing a ridiculous twirl as the sheer quantity of mead you ingested finally hits you. The room spins, transforming into blobs of colour. So, you close your eyes, and you flail around carelessly, your mind too foggy to worry. The tempo of the song increases.

I'm burning through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit-

Suddenly, there’s a presence next to you. You crack your eyes open, checking on who’s intruding. Joel is standing about three feet away from you, hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets. His left heel is tapping the beat.

“S’a good song,” he mumbles.

Joel Miller, nervous to dance with you? Anything truly is possible tonight. You approach him, not interrupting your dance. He stays put. You two are away from the crowd, and it feels like you’re alone in the tavern with him, like no one can see you.

I'm travelling at the speed of light, I wanna make a supersonic man outta you!

As Max puts all of his might into the chorus, you get closer to Joel, because he lets you, close enough that you could reach out and take his hands if you wanted to. And you do, but they’re hidden in his pockets. So you keep dancing, wiggling your hips, jumping up and down. Joel still isn’t budging, but you feel his gaze on you, eyeing your bare arms, the tattoo right under your left clavicle, and going lower down your chest…You take a step towards the man.

“Who’s staring now?” You hadn’t planned to say that out loud, but it’s too late. You take another step, now inches from Joel’s chest, which is rising and falling faster than before. His lips are parted, his eyes intense. It’s now or never. Fuck it.

Your right hand moves up to rest on Joel’s shoulder, causing him to tense up. His expression goes stern, serious, like he’s fighting an internal conflict, debating whether he should pull away. Yet, he remains still. So your left hand goes to his other shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. He holds your gaze, then inhales like he’s about to say something.

A clunking noise interrupts him, shattering the moment. Your arms fall back to your sides and you glance over Joel’s shoulder, searching for the source of the disturbance. You find it easily. Astrid is standing near the table your group had claimed before, her hair thrown in a ponytail, face glistening with sweat, the sleeves of her sweater pushed up. Her water gourd lays on the ground, its content spilled. Her eyes are wide with surprise, jumping between you and Joel. Her mouth contorts in a silent, one worded question.

That’s bad. That is very bad.

Joel notices the shift in your attitude and whips his head around, as a snickering Astrid jogs up to the crowd, merging into it again, certainly to tell Fred about what she just stumbled upon. Joel turns back and leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers:

“Outside. Now.”

His breath tickles your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Something stirs in your lower abdomen; a longing, a desire that demands to be dealt with, urgently.

Joel snatches his coat from the back of the chair he sat in, before striding towards the exit. You follow behind, docile, not bothering to retrieve your own jacket. Once you’re out of the tavern, the freezing wind barely even pinches your skin. You’re too preoccupied with another feeling that’s dangerously rising up inside. You need his touch. And you get what you want. Joel grabs your forearm, and drags you to the alleyway at the side of the building, lit up by a single, flickering street lamp. In a second, your back is pressed against the logs, Joel’s face taking up your entire field of vision. He’s seething with anger. His pointed finger digs into your sternum.

“You- you- ” he growls. You look back at him like a deer in headlights.

And then he kisses you. Hard. His lips crash onto yours and you let out a startled yelp, jerking your head to the side. Joel stares, anticipating your reaction. You don’t let him wait for long before you kiss back. His hands glide down to your waist, gripping it, while yours go to the nape of his neck. You pull each other in and a burning heat spreads between your bodies. Time seems to slow down as you part your lips to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue in. He tastes bittersweet like the mead. Your heart races. An ache forms where your thighs meet.

Just as suddenly as he came in, Joel shoves you away roughly. Your head bounces on the tavern’s facade. He storms out of the alley without another word, leaving you alone in the cold, panting, riled up, confused.

What the fuck just happened?

Next chapter

To read on AO3

#the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel tlou

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cr33pz-mck3nna · 2 months ago

Text

Some facts about my creepypasta au/rewrites

MONSTERS

(^the name of the au, this is my main au, I have many ocs in this au, if you wish to hear about them just consider supporting by liking, commenting, following, reblogging or just submitting a request and feel free to comment or request a vers for my ocs)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, mvrder, sewerslide, abvse, assault, substance use/abvse, Offenderman-

Characters this is about: Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Homicidal Liu, Jane the Killer, Nina the Killer, Laughing Jack, Slenderman

READ IF YOU DARE!

• Jeff and Liu's full names are Jeffrey Warren Roberts and Liu Michael Roberts and they are half brothers with different mothers, they also have a baby sister(also a different mother) named Amber-Rose, and they had a happy life before moving next door to the Meeks family and Cargile family

• Jane and Nina Cargile are twin sisters from Louisiana, they have a younger brother Christopher Cargile who went missing after the infamous JTK(Jeff the Killer) incident, Nina was Jeff's girlfriend

• Jane married a woman in college named Catherine Mary(to pay homage to canon Jane's wife) Harkness who changed her last name to Cargile, Catherine's apartment caught fire shortly after receiving a letter from Jane and attempting to send multiple to Nina

• Slenderman has an adopted ghost son named Lucid(shapeshifter) who manipulates people through dreams and thoughts, Slender is a good entity(atleast he tries), Lucid is the one who gives him a bad rep, but Slender has more children too such as Sally and his three somehow biological(?) humanoid children Vixen, Vivianna and Snow

• Laughing Jack(prns He/They/It) is made up of parts and pieces of the souls of many dead children and teenagers, some entities such as Slenderwoman refer to him as "The puppet of Artemis", he was created by the gods to be a protector of human children but Zalgoid corruption switched his "programming"

• Eyeless Jack's real name is Jackson Nelson but start praying if you call him anything other than E.J. or mention his twin, Jamison or Jamie as they call him, the perfect child of course..

• After the JTK incident Jane and Nina never truly got better, Nina all but lost her mind and Jane became an addict who eventually all but gambled away her soul and was found by Lucid who gives her dreams about Jeff's location with false pictures of her brother with him to manipulate her and keep her chasing him

• Slenderman(prns They/He) was a being who did not know how he came to exist but just knows he woke up one day and they were themself(Jack Frost ROTG style-), he has always loved human children and admired humans like a curious puppy but they haven't always been kind to him, he has no knowledge of the other Slenders but they know about him(Offenderman likes to pretend to be them, making humans fear him even more)

• E.J., Liu and Nina bonded when they all met over the fact they have all tried to "slide the sewer" before, they wear matching safety pins that Nina made them

• After both Nina and Jane eventually met Slender and went to the mansion, Jeff and Liu already having been there for awhile, it was a combined effort of Slenderman, E.J., Slenderwoman, Clockwork and Nurse Ann but eventually Nina and a very reluctant Jane forgave Jeff

• Laughing Jack has a sheer hatred for and MASSIVE beef with BEN, he looks just a bit too much like Isaac for his liking and BEN knows that his appearance has an effect on him and uses that to torment him

• Slender is possibly the biggest LGBTQIA+ supporter out of all the crps, in their mind "Why would you not like and support them? They're still a person." and he's literally the epitome of all lives matter, he does not like killing and like the Slender is the games he only kills when provoked or someone is on his territory and won't leave, as I said Lucid is the bad one

SORRY IF THIS WAS SHORT, I JUST TRIED TO THINK OF AS MUCH AS I COULD RN BUT I'VE BEEN SOOO BUSY CHRISTMAS DECORATING 😭 Hope y'all enjoyed, peace out gremlins! -Creepz

#creepypasta #fanfic #creepypasta au #don't like don't interact #don't like don't read #eyeless jack #laughing jack #slenderman #jeff the killer #jane the killer #nina the killer #homicidal liu #i'm bored #asks open #my version #pls reblog #accepting requests

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booksrbetterthanpeople · 2 years ago

Note

Ooh! What are the other students of Dupont like in the Shadyverse? What are their crimes and personalities, and do they also cause trouble in costumes?

Marinette

Poisoned a few customers with her “special” pastries, which sent many to the hospital

No reason other than she found rat poison and wanted to see if it worked on humans

She’s just a tad bit paranoid and always makes people eat her food before her to see if it’s poisoned or not as payback for her crimes

She still likes to sew, but a lot of her designs are based off well known toxins

Alya

Spread rumors that got several people arrested and sent to psych wards

She wants people to hang off of her every word and if she needs to make some of her rumors true to do that, so be it

If there’s an outlandish rumor flying around, Alya probably started it

Incredibly annoyed by her sisters and his not above starting a few rumors about Nora taking supplements and lying about Ella and Etta ruining their mother’s dishes

Nino

Stole and plagiarized music from young musicians and passed them all off as his own while making hundred of euros a week by selling CDs

He’s also known to be quite violent when the right buttons are pushed. Don’t cross him

He hates to do any work for himself and relies on empty promises and gullible morons

He’s got a soft spot for Chris and makes sure to teach him everything he knows

Adrien

Used his connections to have each of his fans stupid enough to put the return address on their fan letters stalked for months

It gets boring as a young model and he needs something to keep him entertained

So, what better way than by seeing how far he can push some poor sap before they eventually break

He even does this to his own parents

Ivan

A bit of physical assault here, some intimidation there

Uses his stature against others to keep people out of his way and give him what he wants

He’s got a soft spot for his sister and will take down anyone who poses as a threat to her

Before you try to get back at him, ask yourselves, “Do I want to die today?”

Myléne

Committed charity fraud and stole over two millions euros to buy herself clothes from companies that everyone knows makes money off of child labor

She’s apathetic towards charity cases and sees them as nothing more than an annoyance

Any time an opportunity to do some good comes up, she looks the other way

Extremely vain and only obsessed with having the best clothes

Rose

May or may not have poisoned a few IV bags in while posing as an intern at a hospital

Rose is a bit like Adrien and Marinette. She likes to conduct “experiments” on others

She doesn’t see the people outside of DuPont as people, just test subjects for her to try her toxin-laced perfumes on

She holds a place in her heart for Juleka, the only one smart enough to known if she’s poisoned her drink or not

Juleka

Stabbed several people at random with makeshift knives

Just to see how quickly they bleed out

Juleka’s always had a fascination with morbid stuff and gets a thrill out of traumatizing people

Luka’s her right hand, posing as the scared good twin looking for help before she strikes

Alix

Sold items in the museum to wealthy buyers for months until the eventually got caught

Alix and Nino share a love for get rich quick schemes and occasionally conspire with each other

She’s never above blaming others for her crimes, including her own brother

If you wordly possession has gone missing, it was likely that Alix stole and sold it

Nathaniel

He used fear and blackmail to make the student body obey him and grovel at the ground he walked on

Back at his last school, he possessed the Butterfly Miraculous and looked through students memories in their sleep to dig up dirt on them

Nathaniel absolutely HATES being seen as second rate and makes sure to let everyone know he’s the one who holds the power

Uses the Butterfly Miraculous for no reason other than to get his way

Kim

Physical assault charges that never stuck becuase everyone was afraid of him

There’s no telling what this guy will do. He’s unpredictable and gets a thrill out of seeing people flinch when he walks by

Makes a show of seeming like a nice guy to people who don’t know him before he does a 180

It’s how he got the Ladybug Miraculous

Max

Hacked into the grade books and ruined everyone’s GPAs just for the hell of it

He enjoys being the best and likes to tear people down in order for that to happen

Is always a step ahead of others. To him, life is only a video game where he knows all the codes

He saw the box sticking out of the old man’s pocket. So, he helped him up and swiped it right while he wasn’t looking

Chloé

Basically what canon Chloé does before season 4 and minus the Akumas

… So, not going into detail, other than she’s not the worst person at DuPint

Sabrina

Framed several teachers she didn’t like so her dad would arrest them

Sabrina got a sick thrill out of using her dad’s positions to gain fear and respect

She’s played the role of the good lieutenant’s daughter actively pointing out horrible crimes, when really, she just wants certain people out of her life

He tricks won’t work anymore, but she can always count on a few suckers

Lila:

Canon Lila but without the… You know

She and Alya are the main rumor mills at school and are actively turning people against one another for the thrill of it

She doesn’t lie to get people to do what she wants out of pity. She just does it to ruin lives

Besides, it’s like a game for her

Marc

Psychologically tortured his classmates and actively threatened just about everyone for the smallest incidents

Marc thrives off of fear from others, even his own family

He’s been Kiran’s main caretaker since he was born, not that he gave his mothers much of a choice and constantly warns him about the dangers of going outside so he can keep his “precious baby brother” all to himself

Now that he’s at DuPont, he can no longer protect Kiran and fills the void with his Senticreatures

Aurore

Kept her family under her thumb for years with all sorts of threats before they finally sent her to DuPont

A bit unhinged, but plays it off as the stressed out “little miss perfect”

No one had any reason to suspect Aurore since she seemed like perfection incarnate, but they never saw what else she did

Aurore can easily get into peoples heads, so watch out for that

Mireille

Was caught cheating in one of Alec’s contests and many others before that by rigging the votes

Extremely confident and selfish, Mireille does whatever it takes to win in life

Similar to Max, she sees life as only a chessboard where everyone is a pawn

Mireille can make even the most confident people question themselves

Cosette

Manipulated her siblings into committing crimes for her and put on the facade of the innocent younger sibling when they try to blame her

One of the school’s master manipulators, they get a thrill out of making others do their dirty work

For years, they made Yvette and Jordyn look like the bad siblings while they were a perfect Angel

Its manipulation won’t work at DuPont, but Cosette has many other tricks

Lacey

Broke into people’s homes with her rock climbing gear and stole any money or jewelry they had lying around

Prone to violence when questioned, Lacey is one of the people you don’t want to mess with

She has a place in her heart for her brothers, and it crushed her to see the hurt in their eyes when she was caught

Dubbed, “Queen of Thieves” by members of her small but active gang of others sent to DuPont for thievery. They look up to her

Jean

Used his looks to get the male students to do as he pleased- Steal, do his homework, take out anyone who poses as a threat to him

Jean is incredibly vain and obsessed with his looks. Becuase when you’re gorgeous, people do whatever you want

His tactics still work at DuPont, and he’s getting away with it all

The only person he’ll ever love is Austin Tomassian, his boyfriend and the leader of the most notorious gang at DuPont

Denise

Beat up just about anyone weaker than them… So pretty much everyone, for no reason other than they could

Denise ruled their other school with an iron fist, constantly hustling students out of their money, starting fist fights, and making no empty threats

They, Kim, Ivan, and any other muscular students are one of the most feared gangs at DuPont

Simon, of course, is safe from any sort of torment unless a certain someone wants to meet Denise’s fist

Simon

Filmed people at out of context moments and posted them on all of his social media accounts to have their lives ruined

Why? Becuase they can.

He’s pretty close with Lila and Alya, but wishes they’d step up their game just a little bit

Lords it over peoples heads that he’s dating one of the most feared students at DuPont

Reshma

Used her family name and bribery to always have her way at school, and made any lower income students do as she pleased

Reshma is a nightmare version of Regina George

She’s in with the gang of rich kids who bribe the other students to entertain them

Still close with Ismael and is not above getting physical with anyone who disrespects him

Ismael

Tried to burn his own house down with his mother still inside

He told everyone she had it coming, but his dad insisted on sending him to DuPont to avoid prison

Ismael has trust issues, and only puts his faith in Reshma, the one who helped him find unscented kerosene

It’s best not to mess with him since he’s got backup from the wealthiest gang at DuPont

Zoé

Used threats and occasional blackmail to make everyone at her last school fear her

Like Nathaniel, Zoé ruled over her school at New York with an iron fist before she was eventually sent to DuPont

Zoé HATES anyone who poses as competition, which is why she made herself the unquestioned leader of the gang of rich kids

Often funds most of Cosette’s crimes. They CANNOT say no to her

As for any of them having the Miraculous, Blood Beetle and Ikati Bleak are working to hunt down the old man they got their Miraculous from, knowing he has more

Thanks to Max’s intellect, they’re able to sneak out of DuPont undetected to cause chaos

While the four of them could easily destroy DuPont and free their associates, special forces will be called in and they’ll all just be shipped to some maximum security prison that’s countries away, so they need to find the Miraculous to give them all powers and even the odds

Plus, Prince Pain refuses to send his babies into battle

#shadybug and claw noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb ocs #akuma class #science kids #answered ask #ask me stuff #mlb au

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defensivelee · 10 months ago

Text

Dona Dona: You Could Have Been a Bird, You Could Have Been a Swallow

The third chapter is a story about a boy and his mother. Please enjoy. Here is the AO3 link :)

CW: gun violence, murder, abusive marriage, religious indoctrination, fantastic racism, religious war, implied/referenced terrorism, ableist language, child abuse, non-sexual nudity, implied/referenced child murder, implied/reference child sexual abuse, implied/referenced father/son incest, pedophilia, normalization and glorification of sexual assault.

He thought when he fell asleep that morning he would never wake up again. His father had stayed with him practically all night, and he was sore all over. It even hurt to breathe, though eventually his father had given him his inhaler. Even he had his limits, he said. William had no idea what that could possibly mean.

Much to his disappointment, he did wake up, shaken by his mother. He looked up at her with wide eyes, and then she held him close and began to cry. He didn’t know what to do about that; all he could think about was how she wished she had killed him as soon as he was born.

Is that what you still want? He wanted to push her away, but he found he couldn’t disagree with her.

“Oh, William,” she said once she had composed herself enough, though her voice was still shaky. She pushed his hair back; it had been clinging to his cheeks and shoulders with sweat. “I’m so sorry. You were never supposed to be here. But I’m going to fix it now, okay? We’re leaving today. As soon as he goes, we go too.”

“No,” he said matter-of-factly. That much he knew.

“No?” His mother looked at him with disbelief. “William, we are both going to die if we stay here. I have friends on the outside, we’ll be safe.” She sighed, looked away. “This has been a long time coming, and I thought I could wait, but I can’t. Not anymore, after seeing what he did to you. What he’s been doing to you.”

“I’m okay,” he said in a hushed voice.

“You are not!” She took him by his wrists, and at that William gasped, flinching back. “I decide what’s okay for you, and your father sleeping with you is not okay! Do you understand, William? We are leaving, and you will live a normal life. No more terrorism, no more religious mania, no more fear.”

No more fear sounded nice. But a normal life? He only stared at her as she stood and looked around the room.

“Take only what you think you need,” she spat at length. “But make it as little as possible. I want nothing around that will remind us of him. That monster.” She glanced down at him. “Did he give you that earring?”

William’s hand flew to his ear. He shook his head, swallowing nervously.

“Where did you find it?” She took his hand away and examined the earring. “I asked you when you first got it and you never told me. And you’ve worn it everyday since.”

What could he say? That a devil had given it to him? Would she see that as treason? Or maybe not, now that they were leaving. He had no idea.

“Give me that,” she said, starting to unclip it from his ear.

“N-No—!” He pulled away, but she caught him by the horn.

“Hold still, you’ll hurt yourself!” She took the earring and held it up to the light. “It’s like a devil’s horn.”

“Please, Mama!” He jumped up, trying to take it from her, and she glared down at him.

“Why do you want it so badly? If he gave it to you, I don’t want to see it on you!” She pushed him back, and he cried out as she fitted the earring around the tip of her horn and then turned her head abruptly to the side.

The earring snapped in three pieces, and she caught them in her hand, snorting with disgust as she looked at them. “There. So you won’t have to wear him on you at all times.”

He only stared at her in shock. He wanted to be angry, but mostly he was just stunned into silence. He was already trying to remember the summoning circle for Liselotte. He had seen it countless times.

His mother glanced out the window. “I think he’s gone now. Come on, William, we don’t have much time if someone else comes. Grab what you need and meet me downstairs.” She hurried out of the room, and William’s tail shook.

He was leaving? Leaving everything here? What about Hans, what about de Witt? He couldn’t leave them at the mercy of his father.

My books! He looked under the bed, pulling out all of the ones that de Witt had given him. He knew he couldn’t take them all, but maybe just one. His favorite one, the first book with illustrations of the world’s history. Every bit of it that he needed.

So he took that, his coat, Liselotte’s knife, and his inhaler. He glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror and realized he looked like a mess. But his mother was calling for him already, so he descended the stairs and met her at the door.

“We are going to meet a few friends,” she said. “Don’t freak out when you see them, okay, William? They’re on our side, trust me.” She rested her hand on his head, smiling at him with misty eyes. “I’m sorry for everything that has happened here. I’m sorry for bringing you into this world, for never being able to fight him off—” She paused, taking a shaky breath. “But you’re here now. And you can make the world your own kingdom without him.”

“I’m a Devil of Orange-Nassau,” he protested.

“No,” she said. “You’re just a normal boy. And we will not stay here so you can realize your delusional fantasies that everyone has fed you. Now let’s go.” She took his hand and led him outside. He was tempted to pull away, but part of him was curious, part of him was...hopeful. He shouldn’t have been.

They didn’t drive, they walked for a long time right into the heart of New Amsterdam. William was shaking; all the walking had not made his soreness any better. But he was also nervous, somehow certain that everyone they walked by knew what they were doing and would tell his father. And he would be furious, William was sure of it.

“I’m hungry,” he announced. He hadn’t even eaten breakfast.

“We’ll eat when we get there,” she said. “I’m hungry, too.”

“My legs hurt.”

“You think mine don’t?”

He clamped his mouth shut and glowered at the street ahead of them. There was a Hoerenkast on the corner, smaller than most but with tall spires and a tower with a bell in it. He wondered if it was functional; he’d never heard it before. Maybe he’d just never been close enough.

Much to his dismay, it was the Hoerenkast that was their destination, and he collapsed onto the first bench he found inside, flopping dramatically onto his back. His arm was stiff from having carried the book all the way here. At least it was dimmer and darker here. Quieter, too, where he didn’t get the urge to bite anyone who spoke a single word at all.

“Mary!” A booming voice he recognized called from behind him. “You made it! Come, we have a room upstairs, take the boy with you, too.”

William sat up, his eyes widening when he saw Charles Stewart. What was the leader of the Disciples doing here? Wasn’t he their enemy?

“Thank you, Charles,” his mother said. “William, come on. De Witt told me you had seen him before, but you’ve never properly met. I’m sure you know who he is.” She paused, lowering her voice. “But I promise he’s on our side. I’ve known him for a very long time.”

A long time? William blinked, bewildered. This whole time, his mother had been friends with their worst enemy! The things he had heard about how she had come to the Devils of Orange-Nassau, then— were they all true? Had she been a Disciple before?

“And Charles, this is William,” she said, motioning to her son. “My boy. He’s ten.”

“Ten years old, hm?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “I couldn’t tell from his height, yet somehow he looks older.” He held a hand out to William, who saw the blue tattoos hiding under his jacket sleeve and sprawling out towards the back of his hand. “Hello, William. I’ve heard much about you and how you’ll kill me eventually.”

“I will,” William said, shuffling back on the bench.

“Oh, don’t talk that way, boy!” Charles laughed. “You and I, we could be great friends. Hm? Uncle Charles, how does that sound?” He sat down by William. “We could be the greatest Overlifers this world has ever seen.”

“No,” William said resolutely. “I could never call you family. You’re a Disciple, and I’m a Devil, and anyway, there can’t be two Overlifers at the same time.”

“Guess for that you’ll have to kill me, then.”

“I will.”

“No, William, you will not,” his mother said. “He’s a friend now. He’s helping us. He’s why we got to leave in the first place. I trust him, and so you will too, and you will not lay a finger on each other.”

“Awfully intense for such a young boy,” Charles said, twisting his tail around to tap Mary on the shoulder as he stood. He somehow had more diamonds on it than when William had last seen him. “James was like that too. You had to practically untwist his tongue so he could get the words out, but once you got him to talk, he wouldn’t shut up.”

“And you’re saying my son’s the same way?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Just ask him what he likes.” Charles shrugged and turned around. “Speaking of, James is waiting for us. I told him I’d only be a minute, let’s go, let’s go!”

“Come on, William.” Mary took him by the hand as they went up the decorated stairs, the walls painted with praises in Infernal.

“You still hold his hand?” Charles looked back at William, who glared right back.

“Leave him alone, he just likes to run off sometimes,” his mother said. “Does it matter? Sometimes certain things are just more interesting than the bullshit his father was spouting at him.”

It wasn’t bullshit. It was our doctrines and traditions. How could his mother be so easily turned?

“Look what I’ve brought us, Jamie!” Charles swept aside a curtain, and William and his mother found themselves in what looked like a tiny replica of the Ally meeting rooms. There were far fewer offerings, though, and a bed instead of a throne. William recalled from de Witt’s many lessons that some Hoerenkasten had temporary rooms available for those who wanted to please the devils and Allies in a much closer manner. That made no sense to William, and de Witt’s explanation was useless.

It is not a place where you should ever go, William, not until you’re older, was all he said.

“You seriously brought a child here?” A man looked up from his spot on the bed, lying back on a few pillows and blowing smoke from his mouth to the ceiling. He had white horns with a black, random wiry pattern all over them, sprouting from his sandy curls that fell over his wide blue eyes. He lay under the heavy blanket, switching the channels on the TV, and his bare arms were covered in dark green tattoos with both praises and curses to the devils.

“What do you mean, I brought a child here?” Charles asked. He picked up a collared shirt from the ground and threw it at the stranger. “Put some fucking clothes on, Jamie, you knew they were coming.”

Is he not wearing clothes under there? William swallowed and squeezed his mother’s hand.

“I thought they’d die first, honestly.” But this man, Jamie, obeyed and lifted himself up so that William could see all the tattoos on his chest as well. He pulled the shirt over himself and began to button it up, staring at William as he did so. “This is who I came all the way here for? He looks scrawny.”

“James, if you would please stop smoking,” Mary said. “He has asthma.”

“I just lit this one,” James said, yawning. William caught a glimpse of gold on his teeth, and he shuddered. “Can’t you take him somewhere else?”

Charles walked over to him and snatched the cigarette from James’ fingers, taking a puff from it before putting it out on the ashtray by the bed. “Ignore him, William; this is just my brother, James. He thinks he’s hot shit and he might be, but I’m not allowed to opine on that so make your own judgment.”

William looked up at his mother, who rolled her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Charles wants me to move back here,” James said. His long blue tail, decorated with rings and dangling jewels more than even that of his brother’s, swished irritatedly behind him. “Wants me to bring my daughter over, too. But I’ve never wanted to return, not after...everything that has happened.”

“Well, if you do decide to leave,” Charles said, “you can take Mary and William back with you. You live far enough away that her piece of shit husband won’t be able to find her. That is,” he added cautiously, “if you’re willing to help.”

“Sure,” James said, shrugging. “Just as long as they’re out of my sight after a year.”

Charles tilted his head to the side. “A year? James, do you really think-”

“It’s fine,” Mary interrupted. “A year is more than enough time. It’ll be...hard to adjust, but after that, I think I can manage.”

“It’s just as well,” James said, curling his lip back to sneer at William. “I have no desire to help raise a little monster who believes his destiny is to destroy us all. That’s how these Devils of Orange-Nassau play, that’s how all Westerners play. Accept your kindness just to return it with violence. Isn’t that right, boy?” He stood, and William narrowed his eyes up at him.

“James, that’s enough,” his mother said, swiping her tail at his nose. “He’s been through a lot.”

“Why doesn’t he say so? Doesn’t he speak?”

“He’s exhausted,” Mary said. “His father raped him last night and has been doing so for a while. And don’t get me started on the beatings. The horrific lies. William learned how to hold a gun before he learned how to speak. This has been his whole life so far.” She lifted her head, her eyes glinting. “So he can do whatever he likes now.”

William’s face flushed. Had it really been necessary to say all that? He didn’t know these men, and they didn’t need to know him.

“His father did what?!” Charles barked out. Beside him, James took a step back, his tail twitching at the tip as if he had just smelled something foul. “And you didn’t think to start with that? We should take him to a hospital!”

“I- I don’t think that’s necessary,” Mary said, clearing her throat.

“It’s okay,” William said. He lifted his head haughtily at Charles. “It’s nothing. I’ll be an Overlifer one day, so it’ll be worth it.”

Charles glanced down at him. He looked very much a different man than the person that William had seen at the Southern Kingdom celebration.

“You do look exhausted,” he said. “Lucky you, you won’t have to walk for much longer. We’ll be headed a little farther out, and you can sleep on the way there. How does that sound?”

“Aren’t we going to eat?”

“You haven’t eaten?” Charles raised his eyebrows at Mary. “Alright, we’ll go there first.”

After they had eaten (not very peacefully on William’s part; he kept glancing outside and half-expecting his father to walk through the door), William found himself in Charles’ car, leaning against his mother in the backseat. It was very warm back here, and it was making him drowsy.

“You want to sleep, William?” She stroked at her son’s horns. “Go ahead.”

“Where are we going?” He shut his eyes.

“Far away from here,” she said. “And we’ll never return. Just promise me one thing, as we leave this place.”

“What?”

“You will never get your six lives,” she said. “You will never be an Overlifer and carry out what the Devils of Orange-Nassau would have wanted for you. You will live a normal life forever and you will be safe.”

He wanted to protest. He opened his eyes but realized he was too tired to do so. He also realized James was staring at him through gleaming eyes, and Charles glanced over at him through the rearview mirror.

“You promise that right now,” James said in a low voice. “Don’t think about it. You belong to us now.”

“That isn’t how I would phrase it,” Mary said, “but yes, William, we’re with them now. And if you want to stay, you have to make this promise.”

He didn’t want to, but he remembered everything de Witt and his father had taught him. That to survive in this world, you had to deceive. It was something Mary herself had taught him, one of the first lessons he remembered— he had to keep his father happy, whatever it took.

And so to guarantee to himself that one day, he would be an Overlifer, he would rule the world, he made that promise, but inwardly whispered to Ferocity that it was a lie. He made his own promise to her that he would come for her descendants soon.

I’ll kill both of you, too. He closed his eyes again. He didn’t care what his mother said; didn’t she see that Charles and James were still enemies? They wanted to control her!

But he didn’t say that. He fell asleep and let them believe they had quelled the danger.

They ended up in a hotel; at least, that was what William observed when he woke up. He’d never stayed in many. Even on their rare visits to relatives in Grand Cabaret, his father had insisted on staying with the family.

“This is where Jamie’s been staying,” Charles said as he turned off the car. “Even though I told him he didn’t have to do that.”

“And stay with your whole mess of dwaallicht spirits, no, thank you,” James said. “When will you settle down? Those sultry little beasts are no match for a lifelong partner.”

“It’s not necessary yet, is it?” Charles said. “I still have much time. Six lives, you know!”

“I just think it’s best to get it over with,” James muttered under his breath. He turned back to William and his mother. “And you see why I stayed here instead.”

James’ room was larger than William’s room back at home, and had infinitely more places to hide. William counted them all in his head and then ran over to the balcony, hearing his mother’s exclamation behind him. But the words everyone was saying were all blurred to him now.

He leaned over the edge. Today the city was clearer than usual. He took a deep breath, which his lungs met ungratefully with a sharp cough.

“William,” he heard his mother breathe out beside him. “We’re far away from him now.”

William shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“We are,” she insisted. “We can live our own lives now.”

“You said I should have never been born.”

She inhaled sharply. “That...doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to live. I’m only sorry I couldn’t have left before it all happened, and for what he’s done to you, I—” She paused, taking William’s hand. “I never would have guessed. I knew there were other women, but you- you’re not-”

“It was better than everything else he did,” William said.

“William, look, I- I swore I was staring right back at myself when I saw you last night,” she said. “When I was younger. Not your age, but before this...before you. That’s how you were born and now to realize my son suffers the same—!” Her voice went higher at the end, and she began to cry like she had this morning.

William leaned on her. Maybe he could forgive her. He wasn’t entirely sure what was her fault, but he thought it could make her feel better.

But after everything she told him? After she’d broken the earring, after she had quite rudely ripped him away from his destiny and his friends, did she deserve forgiveness?

One day, maybe. When I rule the world and my father’s dead.

He wiped at his eyes, glaring down at the city and realizing he was crying too. Was he allowed to hope that things could get better? That his father would never lay hands on him again? Was the price of his authority worth it?

So many questions, I just want one answer. He looked up at the sky. He could just taste the beginnings of a tentative new destiny; it was hanging right there in front of him if he wanted to reach for it. Like de Witt had always spoken of it, there was no fear and no pain and no blood. He was tempted.

“What are you two doing out there?” James asked behind them. “It’s freezing.”

“R-Right.” Mary looked up, wiping her tears away. “Come on, William.”

William looked back at James as he walked in and wondered how his mother had ever come to befriend such a sour creature. He didn’t seem at all sympathetic to either of them. He wondered if it was true, if James was really going to take them along with him when he left. It seemed to him that living with James might be the same as living with his father, except more annoying.

But the good part was that his mother assured him that they would leave James after they figured everything out. “Besides,” she added later that night, “he’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

Well, William did get to know him. After his first day there (much of which he spent rereading de Witt’s book) came his first night. It was hard to fall asleep as he had been sleeping for a good part of the day, and he couldn’t close his eyes knowing that this time Liselotte wouldn’t open them. He wondered if the connection was severed or if she would show up to the dream anyway and just wait for him. Endlessly.

He got off the bed, taking care not to disturb his mother, and walked past the Disciple brothers’ room to search in his coat pocket for Liselotte’s knife. Though none of the city’s glow made it this far into the room, the knife on its own shone in his hands, especially from the red stripe over the blade.

He looked up and nearly screamed out loud when he saw the figure on the balcony, with the tall, twisting horns and the unblinking blue eyes. James was staring right at him, blowing smoke out from his lips into the night.

Why did he scare you? William tried to quiet his breathing, his hand clutching at his chest to calm his beating heart. He’s just an idiot smoking. He knew both James and Charles had been out for a while today, late into the night, but when he heard the door he’d assumed both of them had gone to bed.

James lifted a hand and beckoned for William to join him there. William hesitated; he wouldn’t put it past James to push him off the balcony. But it was a stupid way to kill someone as important as him, so he lifted his head up with as much dignity as he could and stepped out beside James.

“Can’t sleep?” James asked.

“I could if I wanted to.”

“Don’t be like that.” He flicked his tail over William’s horns. “I couldn’t sleep, either. Especially since I couldn’t smoke all day thanks to you. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

“I don’t care,” William said.

James raised an eyebrow. “You should try it.” He held his cigarette out to William’s mouth, and William stumbled back, holding his hand out defensively.

“D-Don’t burn me,” William said. And he hated himself for pleading.

James tilted his head to the side and looked back to the city. “I wasn’t going to.” He laughed suddenly. “Oh, your daddy had it out for you, didn’t he? Is that why you can’t sleep? Because he went into your room last night, or you went into his, or whatever he made you do.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” William mumbled.

“Of course you don’t,” James said. “But I don’t want us to be strangers, hm?” He lifted William’s chin up with his tail. “So here, I can tell you something about me, and you can tell me what your father did.”

“I- I don’t think-”

James hissed, suddenly bringing William closer and speaking right into his face. “Listen here, you little monster. I’m not fucking stupid. You were planning to murder me and Charles, weren’t you? I saw that flashy knife you were playing with.”

“I wasn’t going to kill anyone,” William said, pushing him away. Inwardly, though, he was pleased that James would think that of him.

That’s right, fear me! See me for the danger I am!

“I know what you were brought up to do,” James said. “You think just because you’re ten I’ll believe you? News flash, kid, I first killed someone when I was twelve. You don’t need all these years to know when someone deserves to die.”

Twelve? William could hardly remember anything from when he was younger. He knew there were the ever-present sensations of terror and blood, though, and he knew the plainly-worded facts like he knew the names of every Ally.

A seven-year-old boy killed someone three years ago.

Why did James get to wait for so long? He wanted to say that that wasn’t fair, but maybe that was why James was such an idiot. William had learned early on. At least his father had done that well.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“So unless you want me to take you back to your father, I suggest you be nice,” James said. “Go along with what I’m telling you and everything will be fine. I’ll go first, how about it?”

“Okay.” William looked away, coughing as James flicked his cigarette thoughtfully in between his fingers.

“I have a wife and daughter,” he began. “I live over in the Mercia Governorate, but I was born here. I can’t say I miss it. Bad things happened here.”

“Was it the invasive devils?” William asked. He still remembered what his father had told him, how the brothers had fled Berufungsachse because of a situation with those devils. One he called Cromwell.

James blinked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“My father told me,” William said. “How’d it happen? I thought they couldn’t do it anymore.”

“When you’re stupid as fuck they can,” James said. He flicked his tail dismissively. “Enough of that. Tell me what your father did. Did it hurt?”

William hesitated. “Yes.”

“Did he kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

William stepped back. What kind of question was that? Did he look like the kind of person to like it?

“Answer me, William,” James said. His eyes glittered. “You did, didn’t you?”

“No!” William cried. He paused. “Should I?” He had tried to last night— and look where it had ended up. Not an entirely bad thing, though, to be out here, but he wasn’t sure if he would have done it all over again even if he had known.

“Would you rather it hurt you instead?” James asked. “Might as well try to make the best of it. It’s what defeated enemies in the Four Kingdoms did.”

“I have more pride than them,” William said, his face flushing.

“They are pleased that the enemy who beat them still wishes to touch them at all,” James said. “It’s tradition. I know this is something very different, but maybe it would have helped you to think of yourself that way.”

What a stupid tradition, William wanted to say. It’s what they’d done for centuries, even among the Overlifers themselves— after any victory, the winner would take the loser to bed, and the loser was expected to like it. And judging by the stories William had read, they did. But he was better than that.

“That’s nothing to be proud of,” he said. “Letting the guy who beat you do all that to you?” He shuddered, the shiver running down to his tail. “It’s gross.”

“Think of it that way if you want, little prince,” James said. “But if you don’t like it, perhaps it was your father doing something wrong.”

“There’s no right way to do this.” William began to cough, and James shook his head as if that was the most disappointing thing he’d ever heard.

“You’ll find someone you like one day,” he said.

“I’m ten!” William glared up at him.

“And that’s exactly what makes you so special.” James rubbed his head in between his horns. “No one else knows as much about this as you do.”

Special? For some reason the word didn’t feel so great to William anymore.

“William—!” He heard his mother’s cry from within, and he jumped, rushing back inside. Anything to rid himself of James’ presence, he thought, but when he looked back he saw James had followed him.

What he found was his mother sitting up on her bed, breathing heavily as she stared down at her ringing phone. Charles was beside her, rubbing at his eyes and taking her hand.

“Calm down, Mary,” he said. “Just don’t answer.”

“But- but what if he- he’ll find us—!” She looked up at William and immediately brought him closer to herself, and William saw the name on the dim screen. It was his own name, but also not his own, because he didn’t have any phone.

William. His father.

“If he’s calling this late, he was probably out pretty late, too,” Charles said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe cheating again?” He flicked his tail against her nose, but she only looked away and shook her head.

William tilted his head to the side. His father’s unfaithfulness had been the subject of a lot of his parents’ arguments, often the reason he was able to summon Liselotte in the first place. But he hadn’t heard that point brought up in what felt like a long time.

“He- he hasn’t in a while,” Mary said. She looked William up and down. “I think because he had you.”

Oh, great. William swallowed. “You’re welcome?” he tried.

“But he’s always been- I mean-” She took a shaky breath. “If he was doing it now, I wouldn’t be surprised.” She lifted the phone, her eyes widening. “Do you think he can- he can find us like this? He’s taken my phone before— what if-”

The phone stopped ringing for a moment, then it started up again.

“Give me that,” James said, snatching the phone from her hand. He answered the call and held the phone up to his ear. “Hey, freak, your son thinks you’re awful in bed. And I would agree.”

There was silence, and William froze. His father would absolutely kill him for that.

“Jamie...” Charles winced.

“Ah, Charles. James.” The high voice came from the speaker. “I should have known she went running back to you.”

“We’ve done more for her than you ever have,” James spat. “I hate you. I fucking hate you. You know you could have helped us when the invasive devils came.”

“That was never my responsibility. I owe you two nothing.”

“Are you aware that they would’ve come for you, too?” He lifted a hand to his horn, rubbing at it like Mary had often done to William to soothe him. “You had everything to gain and nothing to lose if you had just helped us. No, we had to run to the Southern Kingdom and- and do you know what happened there?!” He snarled the last words out, and William saw his eyes glistening. “You can’t be bothered to care about anyone but yourself! You piece of shit, you don’t deserve Mary.”

“James, please,” Mary said. “Calm down.”

“Mary,” her husband said. It was said as calmly as ever, but William recognized the anger behind it. “Where are you?”

“She’s not telling you,” Charles said firmly. “Fuck off, William.”

“Kidnapping my wife is grounds for a war, you know.”

“Then say the word and we’ll be guaranteed to fuck you up.”

“Very well. I’ll be there tomorrow.” With that, he hung up, leaving everyone’s tails lashing nervously.

“Damnit,” James grunted. He wiped at his nose, and William got a strange, dizzying sense of watching himself in someone else’s body. James was holding his head up as if his father had just punched him right in the nose, and sure enough, William saw the blood running from his nose to his lips in the light reflected from outside.

“Again?” Charles nudged him to his feet. “Go get yourself cleaned up.”

“I’m sorry,” James said.

“Aw, don’t worry about it.” Charles smiled. “It hasn’t been so long since, ah...” He glanced at William. “Everything, I suppose.”

James narrowed his eyes at William and left the room without another word.

“What’s everything?” William asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Charles said, patting William roughly in between the horns.

Ugh. William backed away.

Mary was silent. She kept staring at the phone, then picked it up, her finger hovering over the numbers. “I- maybe I should call him back...and tell him I’ll go back on my own...”

“What? No, Mary!” Charles took her hands. “You just left!”

“But I put you two in danger.” Mary blinked, and William saw tears running down her face. “If it’s all because of me I couldn’t forgive myself. Maybe if I go back willingly he won’t be so mad.”

“But you would put yourself and William in danger?” Charles twined his tail with hers. “All over again?”

Mary shook her head helplessly and shuffled back, covering her face. “No...I can’t do that again...”

“We’ve known each other since childhood,” Charles said. “And no matter what’s happened between us, this isn’t what I would want for you. You deserve to be free, Mary. And so does that boy.”

“I could just leave you with William,” Mary said, looking up. “I know it’s me he wants. I could handle everything he does to me as long as William is safe.”

“No—!” William burst into tears at that moment, burying himself in his mother’s arms. “No, no, no, I- I wanna stay with you!”

“Oh, William, I could never leave you,” he heard her whisper, and he gripped her tighter. If that monster was coming for them in the morning, then they had to stay together, whatever he did to them.

“I don’t know.” He heard Charles pacing behind them, his tail lashing and making a sound like a whip. “I don’t think he’ll be able to find us here, but as long as you’re in New Amsterdam...you’re not safe.”

“Then what do you suggest?” she asked.

“You leave with James immediately,” he said. “He can take you to Mercia.”

“In the middle of the night? By train or by car?”

“Car, obviously, what do you think we are, poor?” Charles laughed. “He did come here by train, though. I’ll just lend him mine— I know your husband loves attacking the rails, and I wouldn’t put it past him to order bombings on multiple lines if he thinks you’re there. Chances are, he would hit you eventually.”

“He wouldn’t kill me,” Mary said.

“Absolutely he fucking would,” Charles said at the same time William nodded fiercely.

“Where would that leave you?” Mary asked, squeezing William perhaps harder than she intended. He winced, hiding in her arms again and sniffling.

“I’ll handle any war he wants to fight,” Charles said. “I’ve been through worse, trust me. And he won’t care once he realizes that I don’t have you anymore. Right now, I can just call someone to come get me...” He yawned and stretched. “Jamie, you heard all that?”

“No.” James’ voice sounded muffled.

“Alright.” Charles smiled at Mary. “You get ready, I’ll explain to him what he needs to do.” He walked out after James, and Mary stood, beginning to pack what little she had brought. William wiped away his tears and watched her, his tail shaking.

We can’t go back there. He felt the sting of his father’s touch everywhere on him suddenly, like he’d just gone through another beating. Whatever that meant at this point. He shook himself out and stood to help his mother. He could fulfill his destiny without his father, he decided. Without the whole of the Devils of Orange-Nassau.

Does this mean I’m leaving Hans forever? De Witt? He thought there might still be a chance he could see them if he stayed here in New Amsterdam, but what were the chances they would find him in the Mercia Governorate?

He would find them again. He had to. And they had to be okay. He took a deep breath and tried to look as dignified as a prince had to look, even with his face still wet with tears.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“Be safe,” Charles said as they got into his car, with him waiting outside of James’ window. “I think it’s about five hours from here. You might get there at dawn.”

“They can just sleep on the way there,” James muttered. He didn’t look too pleased to have to drive back this late. “They’re not the ones driving.”

“I’m sure there’s a few places you can stop if you get tired,” Charles said cheerily. “Alright, James, don’t die out there, please and thank you.”

“You don’t die here,” James said.

“I can afford to lose one.”

“No!” James cried out, turning his head to him frantically. “You have to survive. Don’t lose even one. I want to come back to you later.”

Charles paused, then laughed, leaning into the window to pat his brother on the shoulder. “Call me when you get there. I’ll wait for you whenever you decide to bring your family over.” He rubbed at one of James’ horns, then stepped back and cleared his throat. “Alright, I can’t keep you waiting. It was nice to see you and Mary again. And it was good to meet you, William.”

William looked away. He was still crying, albeit quieter now, and his mother was rubbing at his back.

He fell asleep about twenty minutes into the ride, as the bright lights around them started to dim and become fewer and farther apart. The silence in the car made him sleepy, calmed him down a little, and he thought perhaps he would be safe after all.

He woke up not so long after, when a bright light shone into the window and his eyes. He groaned a little, rubbing at them and sitting up when he realized the car was stopped. Had they arrived already?

“Oh, I’m sorry, William,” his mother said. “James just wanted to stop here for a bit.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m tired,” James said, yawning. “You know your brat snores like a devil lord?”

“Leave him alone,” Mary said. She looked out the windows and narrowed her eyes. “I know you did not just bring us where I think you did. William’s not allowed in there, you know how-”

“Don’t worry, the Disciples run the show here,” James reassured her. “Besides, he won’t see anything that he doesn’t want to see. They have extra rooms here, and we can all take power naps and then get out of here. I’ve got some business to do here, anyway. Meeting with some of the Devils, coincidentally.”

“Of Orange-Nassau?” Mary asked, her eyes widening when he nodded. “I- I think I’ll just stay in the car.”

“I’m not leaving the heat on,” James said. “Come in, just make sure no one sees you. I’ll walk in before you.”

“Fine.”

As they stepped inside, James lit a cigarette as if he had forgotten William was there. It was much too loud and bright here already, with lights like the ones in New Amsterdam at night, and so many people dressed in clothing somehow more revealing than that of the Allies, their tails bouncing along to the beat of the current song. William shut his eyes and hid behind his mother as he heard James speak to the men at the bar who greeted him with a strange, yet all too familiar respect.

“You will have to forgive the late payment...I’ve been running with Charles in Berufungsachse, but I’m here now...”

“Did you bring the kid for us, too?”

William realized with horror that one man was pointing at him, and he sprung back behind his mother, covering his ears. The voice had somehow sounded louder than the music. It hurt from his ears to his heart, and he could feel himself shaking against Mary, sickness rising in his throat. He knew what this place was now.

He didn’t open his eyes until the music and voices faded away to a muffled lull and he was sure his mother had led him away from the crowd. They were standing in an endlessly dark hall, the only light being from the street lamps outside.

“I think this one’s empty,” James said. He opened the door to the last room and motioned for them to go in. “I’ll come back for you when I’m done. Don’t get into any trouble.”

“You too,” Mary said. James bowed his head at this, and William thought he was hiding a smile.

His mother fell asleep soon enough and ordered him to do so as well, holding his hand that rested on the pillow by her. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie on this bed.

He pulled his hand away. He would be an Overlifer; no one ordered an Overlifer to go to sleep.

Instead he left the room and walked cautiously down the hall. He didn’t know the path they had taken to get here, with his eyes having been shut the entire time. But he knew there were rather sharp turns, so he took a left and then a right and another left. There were the stairs, where he knew for a fact his mother had to drag him up. But he hadn’t seen the animals painted on the wall.

There were heraldic deer and griffins with muzzles of rope and leather clamping their furious jaws shut. They lay on top of trios of saltires, and underneath those sat cheerful lions pulling on those very ropes. There was a haughty air to them that reminded William of James.

Lions of the Eastern Kingdom, he realized. Of course. In a place run by the Disciples, that was more than expected. He looked scornfully up to the griffin of the Western Kingdom; the poor, weak thing.

You’ll never muzzle me.

He didn’t want to go downstairs, that was where the music and the bad men were, so he went up the stairs again, farther and farther away from everyone. It was a little lighter here, but the lights flickered often, starting to give him a headache.

There were fewer rooms, too. Louder ones, with people speaking behind doors. He thought he heard James’ voice. And, he realized as he crept closer, a more familiar one.

“Just tell us where he is. You must know.”

“I left Charles in New Amsterdam. There’s no one here but me.”

That first voice was Mijnheer Bentinck. Hans’ father.

Oh, Ferocity. William began to step away, turning around cautiously just as he heard rapid footsteps start up on the stairs behind him. He didn’t know who it was, but he knew he couldn’t be found.

There were no rooms he could run in. To barge in and hide with James would only make things worse, with Bentinck there. He could only freeze in place, falling still as if his father had finally caught him.

It was Hans who entered the hall, yawning and wiping at his eyes. He looked up and gasped when he saw William.

“William? William, it’s you!” He ran to William, taking his hand and embracing him. “Your father said you’d been kidnapped! I was so worried, I-” He stepped back. “What are you doing here? Is this where your kidnappers brought you?”

“N-No.” William shook his head. “I mean, kind of. If you could just please be a little quieter—”

“I have to tell my father!” Hans declared. “Come on! Don’t worry, he’ll drive us back, and you’ll be safe back in Berufungsachse in no time.” He pulled William along with him, and William stumbled, following him for fear of having his arm ripped off.

“Hans, please— I don’t wanna go back!”

“You- you-” Hans paused, looking over at him and tilting his head to the side. “Huh? Really?”

“I mean, I don’t want Mama to go back,” William said, his face burning with shame. “She’s been through a lot. So I went with her, but I don’t- I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“But how will you become an Overlifer?” Hans asked.

“I can do it on my own!” William insisted. “I don’t need my father to teach me the right way to rule. I can figure it out myself. It’s what Overlifers have always done. Besides, I don’t-” He took a breath, holding back sudden tears. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

Hans slowly let go of him, blinking in surprise. “But I’d be more afraid if I didn’t have my father with me. If I didn’t have the Devils of Orange-Nassau. And especially for the heir— William, this is everything to you, and you’re leaving it behind?”

“I’ll never be more afraid than I was with him,” William said firmly. “I know that.”

Hans was silent for a moment. “There’s...nothing to fear,” he said at length.

Is he crazy? William narrowed his eyes, and just then the door behind them opened, Hans’ father glaring down at them and then back at James beside him. James himself looked very annoyed, but his eyes widened in disbelief when he saw William.

“I knew I heard him,” Bentinck growled. “Our Overlifer is very wise. I would advise you to think twice before attempting to fool him.” His gaze softened as he looked down at William. “Did the Disciples capture you? Where is your mother, little prince?”

“I- I’m just-” William began to back away.

“You still have my phone, Hans?” Bentinck looked down at his son. “Call de Witt and tell him we found the prince.”

“The fuck you are,” James said. He started towards Hans, who looked up in alarm, just as his father slammed into James, his elbow in particular stabbing into James’ chest, having as sure as an effect as if it had been a knife. The Disciple fell back on the ground, huffing for breath and shuffling back when he saw Bentinck take out his gun.

“Hans, get out of here.”

“But-”

“I’m telling you to go!” He cocked the gun down at James, who scurried towards William in a manner that much reminded him of the smallest dwaallicht spirit. But he couldn’t escape the first shot; his legs buckled under him as the sound rang out, and he fell forward with a sharp grunt.

“Mijnheer de Witt!” William heard Hans’ voice behind him. “Tell our master— we found William! Yes, he’s okay, but he’s with the Disciples— they could have hurt him—”

That was William’s cue to run. He didn’t know where exactly he would go, but he knew he had to get his mother. Some part of him didn’t want to leave James, the man who was somehow, in his own awful way, trying to protect them, but he didn’t think there was much they could do for him now. Besides, his mother could drive, couldn’t she?

“Mama!” he cried as he opened the door. “Mama— the Devils are here! Hanni and his father!”

“What- what is it, William?” She opened her eyes with a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

“The Devils, Mama, I’m telling you! Come on, we have to go, they shot James!” He ran to her and started pulling her off the bed, and she sat up abruptly, putting on her shoes and following him out the door.

“Where? Where is he?”

“It doesn’t matter! He-” He was cut off by another gunshot. “He’s probably already dead!”

“No!” Mary cried. “Charles needs him alive! And he’s the only one that can take us. I need him alive, too!” She ran ahead of him, past the alarmed faces poking out behind the doors. William backed away from them and followed her, trying to stifle his wheezes.

The two of them nearly collided with James on the staircase, running down with an awkward limp. “What are you doing here?” he asked, bewildered. “We have to go!”

“William said you were shot,” Mary said. “Was it your leg? Did it hit the- the artery?”

“Fuck, no,” James muttered. “I can feel it in there, but it’s not the first time I’ve been shot. Come on!” He pushed them forward, and William heard someone else running down the stairs behind them. There were lighter steps, quicker than the heavy ones.

James seemed to hear it too, because he stopped, holding his tail out on alert. “You go,” he told Mary. “I’ll hold them off. It’s just a brat and his father.”

“And if you’re shot again?” Mary asked. “I’m staying with you. At least give me the keys!”

“Ugh, fine.” James turned around to do so, but they were cut off by another gunshot beside them, the bullet just barely missing James’ horns. William winced, and James looked up, his eyes wide.

“I’m not letting you leave with the heir of the Devils of Orange-Nassau.” Hans’ father still had his gun pointed at James. Hans was hurriedly writing on slips of paper as he followed him. “We’ve been training him for years.”

“Abusing him, more like,” James hissed. “To fulfill his father’s fantasies. You would be sick if you knew what your Overlifer has done to him.” He snorted as he looked at Hans. “You think a boy’s messily written spells will help you?”

“You stole our prince!” Hans retorted. “And I’ve gotten very good at spells, I’ll have you know.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Doubtful.”

“Lady Mary,” Bentinck spoke up, bowing his head at William’s mother. “Did you go with them willingly? We all know of your...history with the Disciples of Restoration. While I’m ready to forgive you, I don’t know how easy it will be for your husband to do so.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m not going back. And neither is William.”

“And why is that?”

“James may look like an idiot to you, but he’s right about one thing.” Mary narrowed her eyes. “That man is not an Overlifer you want to follow.”

“So you are traitors,” Bentinck said thoughtfully. “I do have to question what wisdom William had in choosing an Easterner for his wife.”

“Hold that thought,” James said, lurching forward with a lash of his tail, “because that means you’ll die a traitor, too.” Something unnatural glinted in the dim light, and William looked up, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen before he realized in a split second that Mijnheer Bentinck’s throat had been split open, and James held his tail high with blood dripping from its tufts of fur. No, not just the fur— out of one of the many gold rings he wore on his tail, there was a blade pointing towards the ceiling, and that was where the blood came from.

A hidden blade. William’s father had one on his tail, too, and he’d used it often. Nobody could ever pinpoint which ring it would come out from, though, which was why William had liked it.

Bentinck lifted a hand up to his throat, holding his other hand out to steady himself on the wall. But he didn’t stay up for too long and fell to his knees, and Hans looked wildly from James to William to his father. He knelt beside him and shook him, crying out, “No- no, stay up! We can’t let the Disciples win! Please, Papa!”

“Hans, you must—” Bentinck looked up, and William swallowed. When had his own father said his name with such love? When had he ever looked at him like this, like he was sorry for everything he’d been through?

“There’s so much, oh, Ferocity, it’s too much,” Hans whispered frantically, holding his hand up to his father’s throat. “Papa, please, breathe!”

But his father was not breathing, his father held his son’s hands in his own until he couldn’t anymore and slumped against Hans' body. Hans wrapped his arms around his neck, and that kept him up until the boy collapsed as well, sobbing into his father’s chest and blood dripping onto his hair as he did so.

He tried to stop us. William lifted his head high, trying not to let any emotion show on his face. It was necessary.

“Well.” James, however, sounded very pleased. “Now you’ve watched your father die. It isn’t fun, is it?”

Hans shook his head. “He’s not- he’s not dead,” he said shakily. “He’ll be up again soon, just you wait.” He pushed the body off of him, looking into his father’s eyes. “Look at me, say something—!”

“Hans,” William spoke up. “You can come with us.”

“What?” Hans looked back at him. “I- I’m not going to leave him until he’s okay.”

“You know he’s dead,” William said. “But that’s okay, ‘cause you can come with us now, and no one’s gonna stop you.”

“What are you talking about?” Hans’ eyes widened. “He’s not dead! He’s not dead, William, stop talking like he is! I’m staying with the Devils forever, just like you! I’m going to be your Ally, don’t you remember?” He stepped forward and took William’s hand. William shuddered at the feeling of the blood, but forced himself to meet Hans’ eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

“I don’t have a problem with taking this boy with us.” James shrugged, but in his gaze there was something William had seen from his father before, and he didn’t like it.

His mother must have seen it, too. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

James laughed dismissively, but William thought he noticed an uneasiness in the way he waved his tail. “I only mean to protect him. Of course, we could always return him to the Devils...or we could just kill him right here.” His smile faded, and he looked bored suddenly. “He’ll want vengeance when he grows up. Might as well kill the brat before he gets any ideas.”

“No!” Mary and William yelled in unison.

“Why not?” James rolled his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you Louis did it? It was smart.”

“Louis is a paranoid psychopath,” Mary said. “You are not. Don’t make me think that way of you.”

“I’m- I just- I want to get him help,” Hans said, pulling at his father’s arm. “Come on! Help me, William!” He wiped away his tears, his eyes narrowed in determination.

James snorted. “What do you think, William? Should I shoot this boy, too?”

“Argh, shut up!” Hans took the gun lying beside his father and pointed it at James. “I’ll kill you first!”

“Ooh, feisty,” James said, raising his hands. “Fine, then, I’ll let you live. We don’t have time for this shit, anyway. I’ll get some of my guys to clean this up later. Come on, Mary. William.” He waved his tail at them and continued down the stairs.

“I’m sorry, Hans,” Mary said. “You called de Witt, right? Go with him before the Disciples kill you.”

“I couldn’t go with you Easterners,” Hans hissed. He was crying again, and William felt sick, staring into his friend’s bloody, desperate features. “Just leave me alone.”

“Goodbye,” William said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I love you.”

“Huh?” Hans looked up again, but William didn’t know how to elaborate, so he just followed his mother down the stairs.

“Alright, clear out, all of you!” James was saying to the Disciple guests and clients when he got there. “I suspect the Devils of Orange-Nassau will be here soon, and you don’t want to be in the crossfire when they demand to know where I am.”

“How’s your leg?” Mary asked.

“Same as it ever was.” James scowled. They walked towards the exit, and William glanced back worriedly in case Hans was following them. He still had that gun.

Mary opened the door for him. William looked up and in that moment saw someone standing there, blocking his way, and his heart stopped when he thought he recognized who it was. His mother’s shocked exclamation behind him only confirmed it.

“William?”

William stumbled back into her arms as his father came in, de Witt following close behind. He didn’t look very thrilled to see William there— if anything, he looked horrified.

“William,” he blurted. “Where are the Bentincks?”

“Um-”

“I killed one of them,” James announced proudly. “Next time, William, come here yourself if you must and quit sending your dogs after me.”

“Don’t make him mad!” Mary prodded him in the shoulder with her tail.

But her husband only turned his head towards James, his own tail eerily still behind him. “You have killed the boy?”

“I was going to,” James said. “Would you have cared?”

“No.”

The coldness in his reply infuriated William. He had sent Hans and his father to them, and if they had died for it— he couldn’t find it in himself to care? Hans was his friend! And with that knowledge, with the idea that he would never again return to living with this rat, he ran at his father with a furious scream, taking Liselotte’s knife out from his pocket.

He was aiming for the stomach, and though he felt blood splash on his face, he realized that wasn’t where he’d hit at all. His father had held out his hand, catching the blade in his fist. William glared up at him, shaking slightly as his father withdrew his hand, the wide, open wound dropping blood onto the ground.

“Formidable boy,” he said. “You must check that impulse. That was what my mother told me.”

“What?” William’s gaze softened.

“You think you could have killed me?” His father, for once, looked apologetic. “That was never for you. I only say this because she’s gone now, but my mother was right. Marrying an Easterner was the worst thing I ever did. And you were never supposed to be here.” He ran his bloody hand through William’s hair. “I was supposed to rule forever.”

Don’t you want me to rule? William shuddered as he felt the blood stain his cheek.

“Get away from him,” he heard his mother spit out behind him. “I’m done. We’re not going back. William, come here.”

“Yes, run off to her!” William’s eyes widened as his father raised his hand high, but before it could come down on his face, James shoved him away and bucked his head forward, much like a provoked bull. His horns drove through the Overlifer’s chest, and as James jerked his head violently to the side, William heard an ugly tearing sound.

His father fell to the ground, holding his hand shakily up to his chest. William had never seen anyone draw blood from him. He thought he was going to faint. Only seeing de Witt saved him; he saw the steady gaze fixed on him, no longer shocked but patient.

This is what he wants. The right word for that was traitor. He’d always known it.

James barked out a triumphant laugh, his pristine white horns now stained red, the blood running down to his hair and face. “You know, I can kill you now,” he said. “Do you know how delighted Charles would be with me?” He brought his heel down on William’s chest, eliciting a loud grunt from him, his body jolting at the impact.

“Don’t hurt him!” Mary frantically pulled James away.

“Why not? After everything he’s done to you?” James looked into her eyes. “And your child? Mary, you don’t- you can’t seriously feel anything for him at this point. “

She held her son close, and William shut his eyes. He couldn’t bear to stare at his father like this anymore.

“Please,” she said. “I just don’t want you to kill him. Let him go.”

“Mary, if you’re with us now you have to understand that we’ll forever be against the Devils of Orange-Nassau.” James’ voice sounded unsympathetic. “There’s no room for split loyalties. If I have a chance to kill one of our greatest enemies, why shouldn’t I?”

“De Witt,” William heard his father say. “Kill James now.”

William peeked behind his mother and saw de Witt with a hand on his gun. He was tempted to let it happen, but he met de Witt’s gaze and shook his head.

De Witt paused, then nodded once at William. “Sir, you’re wounded. The prince takes charge in your absence.”

“I am not absent.” William’s father began to stand, and Mary shoved William behind her, turning around to glare at her husband. “I am right here.” Every breath he took seemed an agony for him, and William was briefly disgusted before he realized he was pleased.

“I really must advise against this, sir, you may be at risk of losing a life,” de Witt said. “We’re at a serious disadvantage. If we don’t leave now, you could lose all of them.”

“No!” a fierce little voice insisted behind them. “You have me, sir.”

Hans. William’s tail dropped to the ground, and James and Mary stepped closer to him, James in particular lashing his tail nervously when he saw the boy with the bloody face and the gun.

“He killed my father.” Hans wiped at his eyes, but his voice betrayed that he was still crying. “I’m not letting this Disciple get away.”

“Hans, if you think you’re any match for Charles’ brother you are sorely mistaken,” de Witt said. “Look what he’s done to our leader.”

“No!” William’s father snapped. “He’s done nothing to me! I am very well, I-” He stumbled forward, and de Witt rushed to hold him up as he fell into fits of coughing. William raised his head higher.

“Hans,” de Witt said. “Come here.”

“I don’t follow orders from you,” Hans growled. He looked at William. “You, tell me to kill him. Please. There’s nothing more I want right now.”

“He will do no such thing,” James cut in, much to William’s relief. “You couldn’t kill me, boy. No one can. You see that the blood on my horns is that of your Overlifer. I have only one life, but I am more powerful than he could ever imagine. I killed your father.” He limped toward Hans, who shuffled back, holding his gun out cautiously. “I can kill you too. The rest of your family would come first, however, because you don’t get to die without seeing that.”

“You’re not doing that,” William’s mother said sternly. “He’s doomed enough as it is, working for the Devils of Orange-Nassau. The least you can do is let him keep the family I know he loves.”

“Mary, Mary,” her husband sang, still held up by de Witt. He was smiling, but William saw the urgency and panic in his fiercely twitching tail, and in the shudders running through him as he reached for his gun. “Don’t pretend like you still care for any of us anymore. You betrayed us and you betrayed me. You took my heir with you. Unforgivable.”

“I don’t want your forgiveness,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I- I just want you to leave us alone.”

“Leave you alone?” He laughed, as if in disbelief. “After everything I’ve given you, including that half-bred little brat, isn’t this a little unfair? I think so.” He lifted the gun and pointed it towards James, and William saw the apathy come back to him again and knew in an instant that James was going to die.

He didn’t cover his ears fast enough. The gunshot seemed to bounce around and rattle in his skull, and he scrunched his eyes shut, trying to make it stop. Through the ringing, he picked up Hans’ voice.

“Lady Mary!”

William opened his eyes and found his mother swaying beside him, a hand held out to shove James behind her. James looked stunned, and when William looked up he saw why. She removed the hand she held over her chest to reveal the bloody hole there and flexed her fingers curiously before her legs slid out under her and she fell rather ungracefully. James caught her, shaking her and saying something that was fading into the back of William’s mind.

Not now. Not now. He was losing his words again! But he had to say something.

He saw his father’s eyes widen in outrage and horror, he saw Hans drop his own gun and run to de Witt as if he’d been frightened. James was crying now, but William could tell he was trying to stop himself. Out of his frantic speech William could pick out names.

Mary...William...Mary...Mary...Mary...William.

When he walked over and fell to his knees beside his mother, she looked up from James’ arms, her gaze all on her son. She was saying something, wasn’t she? He had no idea. He shut his eyes and felt her hand run over his horn.

William, he heard her say through labored breaths. That was all he knew, and he wasn’t ever going to forgive himself for not hearing the rest.

When her hand fell still over him at last, he realized James was glaring at him. William cocked his head to the side, and James shoved him back against the ground and took the gun Hans had dropped. He turned as if he was about to point it at William, but then de Witt was shouting at him. His name was there again, and William thought maybe that meant he wanted him to go there. So he stood and ran over to de Witt.

James’ tail dropped behind him. He hesitated before he roared something out at them, his tears mixing with the blood that had fallen to his neck. De Witt turned and pushed William along with him, and the last thing he heard from James was his mother’s name.

Mama. He had to go back for her! He turned around and cried out, but de Witt caught him by wrapping an arm around his chest and holding him back. William kicked his legs out, desperately trying to push him off. He heard Hans’ name said from de Witt, and then that same man was holding him in his arms, whispering gently, slowly enough so William knew what it was.

“I’m so sorry, William. This isn’t the end. Your mother loved you very much. You have to keep going.”

“No,” he managed through his sobs. He hadn’t even realized he was crying. “I wanna go back.”

“Where?” “To her.”

“I know, William.” De Witt brought William’s head down to rest on his shoulder. “I know. I’ll be with you now, okay? I’m here.”

Normally seeing de Witt’s car would have made William’s heart jump with excitement, but now it only scared him. They were taking him away, taking him away from his mother.

His father hadn’t said a word. He lay in the backseat, and William saw him wince as he held a hand over his bleeding chest.

“I- I’m going to die,” he coughed out. “Too much blood, I’m drowning- in it.”

“No!” William leaped at him, trying to stifle his tears but failing. He buried his face in his father’s belly, realizing too late that this could be punished for insolence. But he didn’t care; he’d taken worse. At least if his father hit him, he’d know he was still alive.

But he only felt a hand smoothing down his hair, and he looked up slowly. His father was staring at him, and not in any way he understood.

“After this...it- it will be my last life,” he said. “Like I said, William...I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” William let out hurriedly before his father could go. “I’m sorry I left, Papa.” It was a stupid idea to think he could have been anything less than the Overlifer in the destiny his father had laid out for him. He was already almost there.

Just one more life and his father would be dead, and he would be alone. The realization shook him to the tip of his tail when before it would have brought him relief.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice shaking.

“You should be sorry. You...should be sorry.” His father’s eyes looked up to the sky and didn’t move again.

William turned away. He knew, logically, his father would return, but he wondered if the devils had become displeased enough with him that they would end it right here.

“William, sit over here,” de Witt said. “Next to Hans. Please.”

William nodded absently and sat beside Hans, right behind de Witt. He could hear Hans sniffling, his body shaking violently. Maybe he was cold. William sure was, even in his coat.

“I’m...sorry about your father,” he tried to say with a steady voice.

Hans wiped at his nose with his arm, looking up. “My family’s gonna hate me. They didn’t even say goodbye. I didn’t say goodbye, William, I- I don’t know what I’m gonna do!”

“We’ll get him back, Hans,” de Witt said, glancing at the boys from the rearview mirror. “When James doesn’t want to kill us as much.”

“Not alive,” Hans mumbled miserably. “He should have killed me too. He wanted to.” He buried his head in his arms, and William scooted closer, his tail waving over Hans’ shoulder. He didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to stop crying. He wanted Hans to stop crying.

“We- we always knew this would happen,” he began. “People die for us and- and for their Overlifers. Awful things will happen to us...it’s only a price, Hans, of the power we’ll have.” It was what his father had always told him, it was what he’d always told himself. It always worked for him; he could only hope it worked for Hans.

But it didn’t look good when even this couldn’t make him feel better. The price was too high.

“I don’t want this power, I don’t wanna be an Ally, I don’t- I don’t wanna do any of this!” Hans let out, his voice breaking. “I don’t want any power if I can’t fix things with it.” His eyes widened. “Wait, can you do that, William? Can Overlifers- can they bring people back to life? They can come back all they want!”

“I- I don’t know,” William admitted. “I hope they can.”

“Please, William, tell your father to bring mine back!” Hans begged. “Please, I don’t know- I don’t want to go on like- not like this- I’m not-” He brought William closer and wept into his shoulder, and William stared out the window.

We never should have left. His mother had only gotten herself killed and brought Hans’ father down with her.

No, he couldn’t forgive her. Not for this, and not for dangling this new life in front of him and making him want it. She was a traitor and she had died like one.

He would not be a traitor as well and grieve for her now, he decided. Instead he shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around Hans.

#six lives won't make you happy #hmm. much to think about #this was a little rough to write but i do love how it came out #everyone say hello to charles and james!!

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shauntamae · 10 months ago

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Hey yall, Hey! This may possibly be a difficult blog to follow with so a bit of a disclaimer. Some of my family history with mental illness, drug addiction and abuse will be mentioned. Please protect your heart and mind and proceed with caution if you so choose to continue reading.

I sit almost daily with my thoughts. One in particular, "my life was/is a shit show. There's no way people are going to believe I went through all of this." While I am an open book, some stuff I hold close because of this very thought. In all honesty, this thought is encompassed with fear and protection. I'm afraid that some of the deepest darkest things I've experienced won't be believed. Sure, who cares? Well, I do. If I'm not believed, then Little Me is silenced again. AND THAT THOUGHT is still what needs healing!

I came into this world swinging. My biological mother was addicted to crack/cocaine. She hit before I made it earthside, and I was born addicted as well. I used to be ashamed that I was "Crack baby." Especially growing up in the 90s. The many foster homes I jumped around to had no problem bringing it to my attention. I was slightly bullied for being a crack baby, a foster kid, and having a mother who was addicted to it and known for sleeping around town to get it. I say slightly because I learned how to fight early, and I didn't play those games. I also knew my mother was going to come back for me, and if you said anything that didn't align with that, I was meeting you on the blacktop or the streets... imagine little 5 year old me scrappin. Yeah... I know... Plot twist. She never came and that was the best thing that could ever happen. Save this for another blog.

I fought away from home because I could never fight at home. I say quite often that my memory from childhood is a blessing and a curse but mostly a curse. I remember my first assaults happening while I was in pull-ups. I didn't understand what was happening, clearly, but I remember being told that it was okay, because this is how "dads show their love" My biological father was nonexistent but my foster parent at the time had a boyfriend... And we were to call any man she had "dad"... I was potty trained fairly early, however, I'd have accidents quite often... sometimes they were true accidents out of fear and other times once I caught on... they were intentional. Somehow, I felt a whooping was far greater than "dad's love" and other times, well, both were equally unbearable.

I became too much of a problem for this foster home and eventually social services came and got me. I moved to another foster home but I never escaped the assaults and the abuse. Each home I went to became worse than the one before. The physical, emotional, mental, sexual abuse I endured is unfathomable at times. I also sit and wonder how I really went through this all and managed to make it to this day to write about it all. The simple answer is God! I'm a firm believer that He covered my heart and mind for all of these years because He knew there was a purpose far greater than I could have ever dreamed for myself and nothing... NO THING OR PERSON was going to stop that. To say I don't struggle mentally about it all would be a lie. I have PTSD, depression and anxiety. Looking at me, you'd have no idea but baaaaaby it's rough. However, I do the work to heal and find healthy coping mechanisms to get me through on the hardest days.

Peloton plays a huge role in my mental fortitude. On days when I am unable to get into a therapy session, I check in to therapy on my bike, mat, or treadmill. Movement is really medicine. I say all of this to say that we all have stories. We all have journies, and while they may not all be the same, one thing we all hold in common is our truth. We all hold autonomy over them, and there isn't a soul on earth that can take it from us. So, while my story (this is a TINY fraction of what I've endured) is absolutely horrid and unbelievable to someone out there, my truth is mine. I KNOW there's someone out there who is living or lived, maybe even a fraction of what I did who needs to hear it and may find solace in knowing they are not alone and that there's so much beautiful life to be lived beyond the confinment of our Trauma. For that very reason, I will continue to honor not only the things that have made me the person I am today, but I will forever honor Little Me, who deserves to be free and validated... BY ME! May you find the courage one day to do the same!

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early20sfailingplenty · 3 years ago

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I HAD A DREAM WHICH INVOLVED MY HAIR BEING CUT OFF.

It was so vivid I felt the scissors against my skin, heard them snip, felt the hair fall... nope nope NOPE

😰😰😰

I snapped awake and immediately ran a hand down my braid and felt relaxed as soon as the full length ran through my hand omg please nu-uh I don't even like getting it trimmed, let alone cut off like that.

Been there, done that so many times in the past when I didn't wanna be so as a result I'm incredibly protective - overly, honestly - of my hair. I get scared that one day someone will assault me by cutting it off without my consent so that nightmare was a bit too visceral... mmmm nope.

😰😰😰

#theres a reason i keep my hair where i can see it or feel it at all times #especially when im at work #when i was a teen there was a person going around town and literally cutting off braids when there was someone with long hair #it was a whole thing for MONTHS #they eventually caught the assaulter but i never got over the fear of it #also i never had autonomy over my hair as a kid and always had to have it short bc it was easier for ppl to look after it #so as an adult i have long hair and i hate getting it trimmed etc #i can count on one hand the amount of people allowed to even TOUCH my hair #and of those only one is allowed to trim it #the others get to brush it if they want #im just overly protective of my hair #some days it feels like its all i have for myself #its my favourite body part too bc i feel like it makes me pretty #idk i carry some serious luggage about this pfffft im just always so scared about shit most people dont even care about

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undead-merman · 2 years ago

Note

thoughts on a yandere aqrabuamelu lucifer? I got the idea and can’t stop thinking about it. they were made to wage war on the gods and can become possessive over travelers they warn of danger. also keep it up i love your work!!

A kiss from me to you. Thank you.

Yandere aqrabuamelu Lucifer with GN-Reader

Appearance

Like most of his kind Lucifer is large hulking made of muscle and dark chitin. Standing as tall as he can reach, he is about ten feet tall, though he keeps his legs low to the ground so he’s normally about eight and a half.

From his pelvis down are flat mesosoma segments that lead into a long six-legged scorpion body. The legs are lengthy and hold himself low to the ground. The limbs themself are bulky, though agile. They have to be with him being born to fight.

Below his pelvis is a pair or rounded claws capable of crushing even elephant bones. They are smooth right at the pinchers but become thorny and pointed almost artfully jagged in a way. Like chaotic and intimidating armor.

His tail is as long as he is tall, seated higher on his body it does seem much longer than it actually is. The stinger is long and is tipped with a hot and burning-looking red.

His human skin is tanned and kissed from the sun though littered with scars, old scars have chitin growths around them like quartz sprouting from the earth. His arms were the most assaulted and had growths more like gauntlets than anything else. His humanoid arms end with long claws similar to his stingers.

His hair is silvered, the tips like a grayed arctic fox while he has streaks of inflamed red.

War Against The Gods

He was there when Lilith was struck down and the first to rise against the gods who so brutally killed those they did not agree to. Their whims are far too dangerous to be left alone, so he and his brothers resist their tyranny and slay them just as they have slayed their loved ones.

Every battle he gained a new scar that eventually turned into more armor-like growths on his body, each a reminder of each mistake, each victory. It’s gotten to the point where he cannot remember them anymore. They’ve become countless.

He hardly sleeps anymore, he has to be extra vigilant for his brothers. He refuses to allow them to be hurt more than they already have. Over the years his eyes have gained a heaviness that can never be removed as well as dark eyebags that have started to try and crystalize with chitin just like the rest of his body.

He’s absolutely ruthless to not only the gods but those he’s close to. In his mind, they cannot falter. Faltering will only hurt them more, but at the same time, he wants to keep them safe. A horrid cycle that’s not only destructive to the relationships around him but self-destructive.

He wants to be over with this conflict but he worries that even after the war, nothing will be the same. So he revels in it. Prolongs it when it comes to him and only him. He’s not sure how he’ll cope when the battles are over. He’s scared of a social conflict compared to a bloody one. So he fears and craves the day it’s finally over.

Finding You

You were a simple merchant that was caught in the middle. You stumbled across the youngest, Belphegor, he was horribly injured and bleeding out and you stuck your neck and made yourself an enemy of the all-powerful oppressor that claim the heavens.

You even dragged his impressive form back to their home on your cart, knocking over all kinds of products and even damaging the cart from his pained thrashing. Lucifer couldn’t thank you enough for what you did and worried for your life after this. He offered his home to you at least for a few days.

Their home was beautiful and the brothers were warm and even playful with you as they splashed you in the crystal clear oasis or chased you through the sands and over the rocky caves. Beelzebub even shared his food with you, something he hardly ever did even for his most beloved brother.

He watched as they got quickly attached to you, and the same with you. Like bees to honey. It was heartwarming, if not terrifying. A soft and weak human like you. Not only would it damage them but himself as well. He grew as attached as them and with the gods surely focusing their attention on you. He knew what he had to do.

Dark Tendencies

The day you were to leave he held you and refused to let you go. He would never use chains, whips, or even cages. He tried to use words. Something foreign to him, and ended up coming out as a threat. Well, if it works it works.

He watches over you like a vulture hovering over sick cattle in an arid desert. Keeping tabs on your every move, acting like you are here because you want to be. Holding your face with a painful iron grip whenever you hint you want to go.

He’s placed wards on you so when he’s out to battle you’re unable to leave, you can’t step out of their home unless he’s there so he can go on ‘walks’ with you.

You want to be here, it’s safer this way and you don’t want to hurt his brothers do you? Not only that but you’ll end up causing too many problems if you just go. Just stay here, it's not that hard. You can do that, can’t you? And stop crying. He’s helping you, he cares, so just be good and stay put.

#edited by inkyquince #obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #yandere lucifer #yandere

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ghost-like-pale · 4 years ago

Text

a flinch is enough

info: the past never forgets, and techno never forgives. 》 they/them 》 in canon + platonic 》 1.4k words

warnings: sexual assault, explicit descriptions of murder/blood, hurt/comfort, swearing

a/n: this was a request from my beautiful 🌹 anon, thank you for sending this in. i made the implications of sexual assault a a little more subtle but i still hope you like it.

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

——♤——

the moonlit sky was a beautiful dark blue as you stared at the light. you had been doing housework the entire day due to your counterpart being too busy with whatever he was brewing upstairs. the piglin hybrid usually helped you when he was home, it's his house after all. but today was different, you supposed.

you were so caught up in the moon's doings that you didn't notice the tall figure creeping down the stairs and right behind you. he assumed you were aware of him and went to tap on your shoulder.

as soon as he does you whip your head around, backing away from him as you hold one arm in front of your face and the other in front of your lower body. the shaking of your body became more prominent as time went on.

"(y/n)?"

you couldn't look at him. you weren't strong enough.

"(y/n), please. look at me."

you lowered your arms hesitantly and looked him in the eyes still filled with fear.

"(y/n), i'm not going to hurt you. i promise."

you averted your gaze and drop both your arms. tears leaked out of your eyes and cupped your face with your hands, all the memories coming back and hitting you like a truck.

"i'm so sorry, techno."

you dropped to the floor, your knees buckling under you and techno barely being able to catch you. you felt a heavy, warm cape drape over your figure while a worried piglin grunt escaped techno's throat. he got on one knee and rested one of his hands on your shoulder.

"don't apologize."

two simple words managed to tug at your heartstrings so harshly you couldn't hold it in anymore. you sobbed loudly into your hands, completely losing any posture you tried to maintain. techno was startled, thinking he did something wrong. he quickly snapped out of it, however, and pulled your body by the shoulders into his chest. his firm grasp made you feel secure, stifling your cries a little.

"...are you alright?"

you knew he had no idea how to handle it from here, but you appreciated the concern and kindness he showed. you pulled back from his embrace and wiped your eyes gingerly.

"i'm.. a little better."

"good."

the voices wanted to know who did this - who made you this way. who the fuck hurt you? he tried to keep them quiet, but he wanted them dead as much as his mind.

"can you tell me what happened?"

everything was silent for a few seconds. the voices were quiet, nothing came out of techno's mouth. you sighed and shakily started explaining yourself. techno listened silently, trying to catch every detail and description of the man who scarred you. he had a basic image of him in his mind by the time you were done.

"thank you for telling me."

techno glanced outside the window, the soft glow of the moon telling him it's late. how long had he been brewing? he shuffled a bit and eventually stuck an arm under your legs and upper body. with a small yelp you were lifted a few feet in the air, the cape that you were siting under fell off your back and onto the floor in the proces.

"you need some rest."

you didn't bother trying to stop him. your mind was foggy and your body felt heavy.

"thank you, techno."

"shh, there's no need to thank me."

in comfortable silence you were carried up the stairs and into techno's room. you were confused, you had your own room after all. you didn't mind, though. he placed you on the mattress he slept on rarely. his bed was bigger, the blanket was heavier, the pillow was softer, everything felt better. you wrapped yourself in the plush blanket and felt your eyelids getting heavier already.

"sleep well, (y/n)."

just as he was about to stand up you grabbed a hold of his wrist. he looked at you quizzically, knitting his eyebrows together.

"where are you going?"

"don't worry, i won't be away for long. now sleep."

"fine. good night, techno."

"good night."

—

looking through his bag once more technoblade checked if he forgot to grab anything; he had food, arrows, ender pearls, potions and a small knife. on his hips hung his axe, crossbow and sword, yearning to be used. his bag was full and everything he needed was in his possession. before he opened the door techno noticed the red velvet fabric resting on the ground. with a few paces he arrived in the kitchen and picked up the cape. he swung it over his shoulders and adjusted it carefully. with a loud exhale he stepped out of his house and into the cold weather of the tundra. he whisteled a command and one of the wolves in the pack jumped out of the enclosure it sat in and rushed over to techno's side. he was going to find them.

you've shown him your previous residence multiple times, which is where he was going to look first. it was his best guess. while making his way over to your former abode the wolf that traveled with him was scouting out ahead, hoping it would find it faster than techno.

techno's eyes shoot in the animal's direction when it starts barking aggressively at a moving figure across the woods. the voices screamed at him to assist his pet, to shoot him, kill him immediately, to which he happily obliged. he sped over to his companion, hoping to catch a better glimpse of the person.

"stop him, now!"

techno ordered the animal. after a few seconds he heard a loud thud followed by a yell belonging to a man in immense pain. he made his way over to the barking wolf, it having a slightly stained mouth from its jaws going through the man's flesh and muscles. he found them.

"what's the rush?"

he towered over the other male pathetically writhing on the floor. his calf had a nasty teeth mark, bleeding profusely and covered in dirt and saliva.

"p-please... don't... hurt me!"

"why shouldn't i?"

technoblade hated these kind of men; not even willing to fight or run. just begging and whimpering for mercy. it made him sick. the wolf that followed him all the way here was still barking, ready to tear the man to shreds.

he takes his netherite axe off his hip and hoists it over his shoulder. techno looks the other man right in the eyes, fully aware it fills him with fear. he wanted to feel everything you were put through. he was going to feel your pain.

"i...i've never done anything to you..!"

technoblade froze at the sentence. nothing? he thinks he's done nothing? he's not completely wrong; he's never physically hurt him - he's never even met him before. his train of thought was interrupted by the voices yelling in his head. they were screaming at him to cut him, to strangle him, to burn him, anything. he needed to feel pain.

"does the name (y/n) mean anything to you?"

the horror on the man's face got worse by the second, him figuring out why techno is here. the piglin drops to one knee and gets about an inch away from his victim's face.

"am i going to get an answer?"

"y-yes! we were friends a few years ago."

techno let his axe fall off his shoulder and into the dirt, the blade only falling a few inches away from the other male's injured leg.

"do friends traumatize each other?"

the question filled the victim with dread, his monotone voice only adding to the fear.

"y-you don't know what we did!"

the sudden surge in confidence surprised techno, to be sure. there was nothing more pathetic than a man yelling at the brink of death in such a tone. he scoffed with an amused expression and retracted his axe back into the holder that rested on his hip.

"yeah! they were lying to you, i promise. that's the reason i stopped being friends in the first- GAH!"

his sentence was cut of by a dagger being plunged into his stomach and dragged up to his ribs, cutting open his body. he mewled and moaned in agonizing pain, unable to form any coherent words.

"you disgust me."

technoblade stood up, his ears twitching and voices pleased. the blood on his hand dripped on the dried leaves as he called the wolf he brought with him. as the animal sped over to technoblades' side the screams of the impaled man were completely gone. looking over his shoulder he sees the lifeless body of the man who has haunted you for a long time.

he'll never hurt you again.

——♤——

thank you for reading, hope you liked it.

masterlist

taglist;

@esylwen

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valwentinefics · 4 years ago

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Instincts - Helmut Zemo x F!Reader (omegaverse) 18+

Plot: Y/n, an unmated omega, forgets to get a refill of her suppressants, sending her into her heat while at work. Luckily for her notorious criminal and alpha Helmut Zemo is hiding out in the backroom. (Takes place after episode 4 of tfatws)

A/n: First of all I’m sorry, second of all I’m sorry, third of all, You’re welcome. This is my first time writing omegaverse so it’s probably not the best and I haven’t read an omegaverse fic in a hot minute. Sorry my smut is always so short, I really gotta work on that.

Warnings: smut, normal a/b/o things, possessive dirty talk, mentions of omegas being harmed, mentions of fear of being assaulted. (if i missed anything please let me know)

As an unmated omega, Y/n knew well of the dangers of the world. Everywhere she looked alphas lurked around looking for their own omega, a rare thing to have in this society. Although omegas were coveted and prized they were still at the bottom of the hierarchy and were expected to be subservient to whatever alpha marked them, a thought that terrified Y/n. Stories of alphas that harmed omegas were sickeningly common, and with everyone plastering on fake kindness in hopes to place their mark on her neck, Y/n was terrified she would end up a statistic.

Suppressants were Y/n’s saving grace, an illegal method to mask her true nature from the world and pose as a beta where she could live her life peacefully, something she could never do as an omega. If she were to get caught she could face serious time in a correctional facility built just for omegas to learn their place in the world, and so every day was filled with caution and fear.

“God I look like shit.” Y/n’s heavy eyes looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the bags under her eyes deep and only looking worse due to the harsh fluorescent light buzzing away above her. The illegal suppressants had many side effects ranging from life threatening to mildly troublesome, but the one that affected Y/n most was the inability to fall asleep. Each night was spent tossing and turning, her body feeling restless.

Sluggishly Y/n grabbed her concealer, dabbing it on beneath her eyes, her hands shaking with exhaustion. She finished with a sigh, running her hands through her hair to remove any major knots. She didn’t have the energy to fully go through her hair, not seeing the point. She was hidden as a beta anyways, no one would give her a second glance. Y/n opened the medicine cabinet, looking for the white box of suppressants, only to not find it anywhere. Her stomach sank as she realized she forgot to get her refill yesterday. It would be fine though, she hoped. She had gone without them before and hadn’t gone in heat, surely it would be the same thing this time, but for some reason there was a nagging feeling in her mind it wouldn’t be.

Y/n grabbed her perfume, spraying it on herself. The scent was cinnamon, similar to her natural scent as an omega, but it had the slight acrid scent of being a perfume. She hoped that would be enough to convince the alphas she passed by that she was just a beta wearing perfume. It wasn’t something she used often, only when her overtired brain didn’t remember to get the refill of her suppressants.

“That's good enough, I hope.” Y/n mumbled to herself. She smoothed out her short sundress, the light flowy fabric ending at her mid thigh. It was her favourite dress, she felt and knew she looked cute in it. Y/n didn’t like to wear things like this often, she didn’t want the attention of anyone, but frankly she felt like shit and needed the joy looking nice brought her.

The walk to the flower shop had Y/n’s body feeling hot, however she assumed it was the warm weather, not wanting her paranoia to make her miss work. The flower shop she owned was Y/n’s only source of income and it wasn’t a bad one at that. It was common for alpha’s to come in and buy bouquets to give to the first omega they see on the streets in an attempt to woo them. That was another reason Y/n refused to accept her status as an omega. Every bit of romance was just disingenuous. Alpha’s only wanted to have the honour of being chosen by an omega, they didn’t care about who that omega was. However, Y/n was happy it paid her bills.

The day went by smoothly until closing time when Y/n turned off the open sign, the neon light no longer lighting up the darkening street outside. As she grabbed her keys to leave a sharp pain went through her abdomen, causing a gasp to escape her throat. She rested a hand on the painful area, eyes wide. She should have listened to her instincts, she should have stayed home, but she didn’t and now she was going into heat in her store. Y/n paced, her mind running at a hundred miles an hour as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn’t go home, walking would be near impossible for her with her heat approaching fast. She would have to wait it through in her shop with no relief.

“Oh fuck…” Y/n groaned in pain, leaning against the wall. She knew she had to find something to eat to get the strength to get through this. With shaky steps she headed to the back, her hand glued to her abdomen as if that would alleviate her pain. As she approached the door to the back room her blood went cold, her nose picking up the faint scent of an alpha through the thick door.

She debated opening it. Her instincts were telling her to open it and get his help with the heat, her brain told her it could be dangerous. Eventually decided to confront him, to ask what he was doing and maybe for his help getting home if he didn’t seem too awful. With her keys clutched between her fingers just in case, she slowly opened the door, her body almost melting at the scent that wafted to her.

A man dressed in a long coat with a fur collar stared back at her with shock, the scent of pine trees wafting off of him. “Omega…?” He spoke with a Sokovian accented voice. It took Y/n a few moments before the identity of the dangerously handsome man registered in her mind. She had seen him on the news. He was Helmut Zemo, the man who almost single handedly destroyed the Avengers.

Y/n shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate. “You’re Helmut Zemo… What- what are you doing here?” She asked, fixing her posture to appear assertive and trying her best to resist the urge to submit right there. A mixture of fear and arousal was filling her body to the point where she thought she might explode.

“So you’ve heard about me?” He tilted his head slightly. “I needed a place to hide for a bit, I’ve been scoping this place out. You’re the owner, Y/n, correct?” Y/n gulped but nodded, worried about why he was hiding out. “That doesn’t matter right now. Why are you here? It’s not safe for an omega in heat to be out in public.” He scolded as if Y/n didn’t know that. It was odd, having the notorious criminal seem to care about her safety. She wondered what he was trying to achieve, if anything.

“It wasn’t my choice okay?” She snapped, a wave of pain washed over her and she slumped against the door frame with a groan. Zemo got up, moving to her quickly but stopping once Y/n had flinched, worried he was going to try something.

“You need to get home, where’s your car? I'll escort you there.” He said, his voice was strained and Y/n’s eyes couldn’t help but land on the growing bulge in his pants. He was going into a rut which explained his current caring and protective nature. Her mouth watered at the thought of having his cock in her mouth but she tore her eyes away, looking to the side to avoid him.

“I don’t have a car… too expensive.” She groaned out, her breaths growing to pants as she started to overheat, fanning herself with her hand.

Zemo let out a staggered exhale, running his hand through his formerly perfectly done hair. “What’s your address? I’ll bring you there myself.” Y/n was impressed at the amount of self control this alpha had. Even as his rut was beginning he managed to stay calm and collected for the most part, but Y/n knew it was hard for him, sweat ran down his forehead as he strained to keep control.

Reluctantly Y/n told him her address knowing he was her best bet at getting home safely. A whimper escaped her throat as she felt her slick begin to drip down her thigh. She clenched her legs together, desire seeping into every part of her. She wanted the alpha’s knot more than anything she had ever wanted before. She could hardly focus on what Zemo was doing, not noticing he had draped his coat over her and picked her up until they were already out the door.

Zemo didn’t breathe as often as he needed while he walked, trying not to inhale Y/n’s scent as he moved at a quick pace, shooting piercing glares at every passerby that dared look their way. He felt protective over the little omega. His cock strained uncomfortably against his pants as his mind filled with thoughts of mating with her, but he pushed them back, not wanting to take advantage of her. Arriving at the apartment building he used her keys to unlock the door to the humble apartment, locating her room and placing her down on her bed. Y/n took off his coat and offered it back.

“You can keep the jacket for now, I’ll come back for it once you’re done with your heat.” He said, quickly turning around. Y/n’s hand shot out, grabbing his gloved hand.

“Please alpha, don't leave, help me.” She whimpered. Y/n didn’t know where that had come from, but she didn’t regret it, knowing it wasn’t just her heat talking. He was powerful, respectful, not to mention handsome. Everything a good mate should be, even though Y/n knew mating with a dangerous man like him was out of the question. Y/n found herself liking the man despite knowing what he had done and not knowing him long. She knew he would treat her well during her heat, if he accepted.

“Are you sure omega?” He asked, not facing her in fear that he would pounce on her as soon as he saw the desire in her eyes.

“Yes alpha, please…” Y/n whimpered again, giving his hand a small tug. “I need you”

That was all he needed to lose control. Zemo turned around to face her, stalking to the bed as he removed his shirt, straddling Y/n’s warm needy body. Her smaller hands reached out, undoing his belt and palming Zemo’s cock through his pants. Y/n couldn’t help the filthy thoughts that flooded her mind, desire for the dangerous man’s knot consuming her.

Zemo let out a groan, taking off his pants and boxers, letting his painfully hard cock free. Y/n’s eyes were clouded with lust as she leaned forward, mouth open and ready to suck it. He tapped the side of her cheek with his cock, running his hand through her hair and gripping it.

“No liebling, this is about you. I can wait for another time.” He let go of her hair and Y/n laid down, watching the alpha as he took off her panties and put her legs over his shoulders, running his cock slowly up and down her folds and coating itself in her slick, the tip teasing her as it came so close to going in. Y/n let out a little whine, letting him know she was growing impatient. “I apologize omega, it’s rude of me to tease.” He smirked before shoving himself all the way in easily.

Y/n’s toes curled as she let out a loud gasping moan, throwing her head back in pleasure as he began to thrust in and out of her, the position they were in allowing him to reach every part of her with ease. His hands ran up and down her waist as he let out a deep moan. Y/n’s eyes were locked on him as he fucked her deeply, causing her to let out a whimper of pleasure with every thrust.

“Look at you little omega, taking my cock so well.” He reached over to cup her cheek in his hand, rubbing circles into the soft flesh with his thumb. “Does it feel good?” His hand dropped from her cheek and began to rub her clit with just enough roughness to send her over the edge, a loud moan escaping her as she came.

“Yes, fuck! harder, please!” She said between moans, her hands tangling themselves in Zemo’s hair and gripping it as she panted.

Zemo moaned as he re-adjusted her legs on his shoulders, picking up the pace. “This pussy of yours, it’s mine now. I’ll fuck you through this heat and every heat you have next.” He growled, hitting Y/n’s sweet spot, making her cry out in ecstasy.

Y/n felt warm inside at his words. Her pussy clenched around his cock as the stimulation from him rubbing her clit and pounding into her sent her over the edge again, panting as she came hard. He was good at making her feel good, and for once Y/n was glad she was an omega.

“Fuck, you feel so good clenched around me. Do you want my knot in you, little omega? Do you want me to fill you up with my cum?” He asked cockily, receiving a desperate whine from Y/n.

“Please, please, please!” She begged, the only thoughts filling her mind were those of need for his knot buried deep into her.

“How can I refuse... when you’re asking so nicely, liebling.” He spoke between grunts. His thrusts slowly became more sloppy and deep and Y/n knew he was about to cum.

With one last deep thrust Zemo buried his cock all the way into Y/n’s pussy, his knot trapping the two together as he emptied his cum into Y/n. She felt so full in a good way, her breaths heavy with exhaustion as she internally frowned at the thought of Zemo pulling out of her. His knot alleviated the worst of her heat and as she laid there sore and sweaty, her now clearer mind had no regrets about what had happened.

Zemo pulled out after a while, his knot going away. A smile danced on his lips as he saw the cum dripping out of her as he pulled out his cock. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed as she moved to a more comfortable position on the bed. Zemo grabbed his jacket from the floor, dusting it off and draping it over the omega’s tired form. Hesitantly he hovered over her before pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head, deeply inhaling her scent.

Not wanting to intrude any more, he got dressed and walked over to the couch, exhaustion filling his body as he slumped down onto it, closing his eyes with a smile. He could tell he would need all the rest he could get while he rode out the omega’s heat with her. He was so happy he decided to hide out at that flower shop.

Tags: @peculiar-monstar @lovelyzabrak-meadow @captainsherlockwinchester110283

#a/b/o #omegaverse #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #zemo #zemo smut

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cheekygreenty · 4 years ago

Text

Leave Me Lonely p.1 - The Darkling x Reader

Based on Ariana Grande’s song Leave me Lonely ft.Macy Grey. Was supposed to be just one part but I got carried away as per usual 🤓

'Get the General!' Zoya's eyes were borderline frantic but her composure remained the same, the once pristine blue kefta was dirty and ragged and her long luscious hair was disheveled, a piece of it in the way of a small cut on her temple.

'Zoya are you alright?' You were exiting the General's tent when you saw her approach, your body filled with an alarming feeling as you raced to meet her and some other Grisha, The skiff, she was manning a skiff across the Fold not even an hour ago, why is she back?

She ignored your question and continued with her dutifulness, 'The General, this is urgent'

You nodded and ran back, mind whirling with the possibilities of the skiffs return. Zoya was a great Squaller who'd successfully manned many journeys across the Fold so why was she back here, all scratched and bruised.

He was conversing with First Army Lieutenants and Captains when a rough grasp around his arm interrupted the flowing conversation. He squared his shoulders but when he saw your panicked face, he relaxed but only the smallest amount. Not even 10 minutes beforehand you two were involved in a heavy argument and at the feel of his tense muscles beneath his kefta, you guessed he thought you were back for more.

You had a right to come back and throw insults at his face, hell, he was the one who brought out that side of you. A vicious, ruthless, and malevolent side you never knew you had, but you ignored that urge.

-Dangerous Love, you're no good for me darling-

'We have a situation.' You cocked your head in Zoya's direction and waited until his company excused themselves and stood to the side before you let Zoya speak.

'I think we may have a sun-summoner.' She said without any negligible hesitancy. The tent suddenly froze in time. The Grisha held their breath and the otkazat'sya paled as your eyes grew wide. A Sun-Summoner.

'We were 2 markers in and were attacked by volcra, a searing light came out of nowhere, or rather came out of a girl, a first-army soldier.' You could see the lieutenant perk up at the sound of one of his being mentioned but Aleksander's expression hadn't changed since Zoya started talking.

'Bring her to me.'

'A Healer is bringing her now.' As she concluded her statements, she silently moved off to the crowd of other Grisha who'd come back from the skiff journey looking equally as shaken as she did.

You leaned back on the desk for support as you settled the information she'd just given you. This was Zoya, a very, very credible witness who'd just said a Sun-Summoner had been found. A legend come true, a myth that no longer needed debunking.

You looked at him again, this time noticing a flicker of hope in his eyes. He stared right back into your own wide eyes and gave a gentle nod followed by a small squeeze of reassurance to your hand which still held a tight hold on his arm. He kept his back to the entrance but you had a full view of her once the tent flap opened.

She was brought in by two guards in a scuffed First-Army uniform, Whether it was from the volcra or just daily use, you didn't know. She looked slightly sickly but mostly scared, like a wounded animal being hunted by its prey.

'Bring her closer.' You had let go of his arm now, that feeling of surety left you cold as his touch disappeared from yours. The guards brought her forth a bit more, letting her go and stepping back as their General finally turned around.

'Closer.' She took a tiny step forward. The poor girl is petrified.

'Well?'

'Well, what. Sir?' She was on the defense, I don't blame her. He was intimidating even when he wasn't using his powers.

'What are you?'

'Alina Starkov, Assistant Cartographer, Royal Corps of Surveyors.' Her fearful expression suddenly changed into a more devastated one. 'They’re all gone. It’s my fault. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?'

'Answer the question.' He leaned back against the desk just as you did.

'A mapmaker, sir' It was clear to you that Ms.Starkov had no idea why she was here. She was scared, alone, and being interrogated by the most feared man in all of Ravka. The tent erupted in a peal of laughter but you had no time for such snobbiness.

'Quiet' You ordered and a silence fell over the space once again. There was a time when you wouldn't dare command a tent full of Grisha, but Aleksander had changed you; changed the way all his Grisha looked at you.

'So who actually saw what happened? Zoya? You manned the mainsail.'

Zoya repeated what she told you, and Aleksander asked the girl whether she'd been tested but your ears stopped listening once she'd stated she grew up in Keramzin. You too grew up in Keramzin before you were shipped off to the Little Palace to train and become a skilled Heartrenderer. You knew they tested all the children, so how the hell did she slip through the cracks?

You came back from your thoughts just as Aleksander approached her and subsequently amplified her powers. A beam of light so bright and strong you felt some heat from it pounced from her skin and up through the ceiling.

Everyone looked away from the harsh ray but you couldn't turn away. It was beautiful and magical, the physical embodiment of hope, but short-lived as Aleksander let her go and she fell back with a look of awe. He moved quickly, whispering into Ivan's ear and then moving back to you.

'Accompany them to the Little Palace. Ride on a horse and be on the lookout, and give her your kefta.' You nodded curtly, knowing he only trusted his inner circle with the transport of the Sun-Summoner to Os Alta, and that included you. Alina was dragged out from the tent still in a daze of her own.

Your earlier argument with him vanished from your memory as he leaned down to briefly kiss you on the top of your head, 'Be safe.' And with that, you left to find your horse.

***

The backroads were peaceful and quiet as your horse galloped along the dirt road. You wanted so badly to sit in the carriage and speak to Alina, a fellow child of Keramzin, but you listened to Aleksander's command and served as a lookout for any oncoming dangers. So far it had been all clear, but as you approached a hill, a tree blocking the road caught your attention. You slid off your horse and signaled the coachmen to stop too.

'The road is blocked! Beware!' One of them shouted and then all hell broke loose. Shots came from everywhere and anywhere while your horse, in a frightful spell, escaped the way you came.

You had no clear line of vision as dust and dirt clouds plummed above ground and a bullet scratched your left shoulder, then your leg. Your eyes stung and lungs burned as you tried to get yourself out of direct lines of bullets and bombs, eventually finding a place behind thick trees.

Ivan and Fedyor joined you almost immediately both panting and the latter holding his hand to his chest.

'You're bleeding Y/N, where is your kefta?' Fedyor panicked and lay his other hand on your leg where the blood glistened like a jewel.

'How many are there?' Ivan risked asking, trying to get your mind off of the bleeding wounds. Your hands were up in the air as you listened for heartbeats and your heart dropped to your stomach. Too many.

'At least 15 more.' You looked around the Grisha desperately devising a plan in your head that would bring you all out alive.

'Get to the carriage, protect the girl' You signaled to the three Heartrenderers and Squaller.

'But you're hurt and you cannot fight the-' Ivan was cut off by the darkening of the forest, a classic tell that Aleksander was here. Relief flooded you all. The shadows loomed over you, directing their course to near the carriage and then up ahead to where Alina was.

You waited for him to erupt from behind the trees and help you, but the minutes ticked by and you were still hiding from the skilled Fjerdan fighters without backup. Fedyor looked to you, disappointment and pity clear on his face.

Only momentarily did the fighting cease as bullets carried on their assault. You assumed they would flee from the fear of being in the Darkling's presence, but they hit back twice as hard. In return, you all fought back equally as strong, knocking out bodies left right and center despite your dwindling body.

All throughout the fight, you had one thing on your mind and that was why Aleksander chose to ignore you. Was he still mad from your argument? No that couldn't possibly be why he would leave you to potentially die at the hands of druskelle.

Yes you were a soldier, but no doubt he knew the extents of the Fjerdan army and their skilled fighters. If outnumbered, a Grisha was basically of no use.

-If you're gonna love me and leave me hanging here....-

You understood she was the Sun-Summoner but you were you. You were the person he shared his bed with every night, the person who could calm his stormy mind, and the person who stayed with him through it all even though you hurt more than he loved. It stung like a throbbing wound and snagged at your already dwindling will to keep the relationship alive.

-then I'd rather you leave me lonely-

—————-

Part 2

Taglist

@aleksanderwh0r3 @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx @pansysgirlfriend @pansysgirlfriend @justmesadgirl

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ravennm84 · 4 years ago

Text

Complicity

Hey everyone! Sorry I’ve been missing for a while, but I’ve had a lot going on and lacking inspiration, until the other day! I know that Lila thinks she’s the smartest person in the room and that everyone else it too stupid to figure her out. So, I decided to let her “think” she’s being smart, but gets caught because she did something stupid. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

Lila was happy. Since she had become a model, she had acquired a small fan base of people that thought she had beauty and talent. Granted, it wasn’t as large as she thought it should be, but she had only done three photo shoots and had been mentioned in one magazine. But this was just the beginning; soon, all of Europe would know her name and reporters would be clamoring after her for pictures.

But at the same time she was very angry.

This was because Marinette had been mentioned in the same magazine as her. And where Lila got a single photo that showed more of Adrien than it did of her, Maribrat had gotten an entire article and multiple photos about her designs and the collaboration she was doing with Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois since the woman had decided to stay in Paris. She had even looked at the girl’s website and saw that there was an actual wait list to receive one of her original designs.

Enraged that someone she considered to be plain, talentless, and all around lower in status than her, Lila started coming up with plans. She wasn’t about to share her spotlight with anyone, let alone Maribrat.

She was tempted to accuse the bluenette of stealing her designs and ruining her reputation, but since she had been designing for longer than Lila had been in Paris, that had too much of a chance to backfire. She’s thought of sicking one of her classmates/sheep to break into her house and destroy her commission projects, but that also had too much of a chance to backfire since they would likely blab if they were caught.

No, she needed a different type of plan. Something that would be farther removed from herself so nothing would blow back on her, but harsh enough so that even Maribrat wouldn’t connect what happened to her. It took a few weeks and a lot of planning, but she came up with something that would work. It had been the perfect plan, a way to get Marinette out of her life and the spotlight for good.

All it took was some sweet talking one of her new followers; a large, burly boy named Henry that was a couple years older than her and not very bright. He would have done anything for her… including going after a “stalker” that had threatened to hurt her. She barely even had to suggest anything before the boy assured her that he would protect her at all costs. It even seemed to be working when Maribrat was suspiciously absent from school for a few days after Henry said he would “take care of it”.

It had been the perfect plan...

Until the police showed up.

She had just gotten home when the police arrived, saying that she was wanted for questioning in an open case. They had already been in contact with her mother and Greta Rossi had promised them their full cooperation. Rather than risk looking guilty, Lila called her mother to make sure they were telling the truth before grudgingly going with them.

When she got to the police station, she was met by her very confused and furious mother. This wasn’t the first time she had been in trouble with the law. There had been an incident in Rome where she’d been accused of pushing a boy, Simone, down the stairs, and her mother had been forced to pay his medical bills. She had made it very clear that if Lila caused any more problems at school, it would not be pleasant.

So there she was; sitting with her mother and a couple of police detectives that she didn’t recognize, who were giving her condescending looks. “I am Detective Cooper, and this is Detective Raimus. We understand that you have been made aware of your rights, correct?”

“Yes, multiple times. What is this all about? You can’t just bring my daughter in for questioning like she’s some common criminal.” Her mother said as she stared down the two men.

“Mme. Rossi, we need to ask your daughter some questions in connection to an assault that took place against one of her classmates.” Stated Cooper, a detective with a thick mustache.

“Are you or your daughter familiar with a M. Henry Mortaure?”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Lila lied with a shrug.

“Neither have I, who was attacked?” Her mother asked, suddenly worried about what her daughter might have gotten involved in.

“A Mlle. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, are you familiar with the name?” Asked Raimus, who looked a bit older than his partner.

Greta Rossi thought for a second before nodding. “Lila has mentioned her a couple of times, said that she was a bully. What about her?”

“The Dupain-Cheng residence was broken into a few days ago by M. Mortaure. He was armed and confessed to be doing so with the intent of killing Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.” Mme. Rossi gasped in shock while Lila was attempting to hide her smirk with a look of worry. “The Dupain-Chengs were not harmed, although the same cannot be said for M. Mortaure.” Cooper placed some photos in front of them on the table, gaining another gasp from Greta. Three of the man’s limbs were wrapped in heavy gauze, his face was swollen and bruised from a black eye and a seriously broken nose.

Lila didn’t flinch when she saw the photos, but was now fighting a scowl at the knowledge that Henry had failed her. And since she was here in an interrogation room, it could only mean that the idiot had blabbed. But that didn’t matter, she could just say that he must be a crazy stalker who had somehow found out that Maribrat was bullying her and decided to take things into his own hands. After all, it wasn’t like she had called or messaged him from her personal phone. She had bought a burner phone with cash just for this occasion.

“Despite being armed with a pistol, he never had a chance to use it,” Raimus stated as pushed one of the photos towards Lila. “He will require reconstructive surgery on his face from being hit multiple times with a rolling pin. His arms were severely burned when he fell into a fryer, it’s likely that he’ll never have full use of them again. Despite the burns, he attempted to go for a kitchen knife after being disarmed. That knife was turned on him and he ended up with a perforated lung.”

Greta looked like she was going to be sick, unable to look away from the pictures in front of her. But she eventually did, casting a harsh stare at her daughter. “Please, tell me you had nothing to do with this.”

Doing her best to fake her shock, she shook her head and pushed away the photos. “I swear, I had nothing to do with this. I don’t even know why he would do this.”

“We were wondering the same thing and discovered that he’s a fan of yours. He has multiple pictures of you, as well as Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. We suspected that he had been stalking you and came to the conclusion that he thought she was bullying you and decided to protect you on his own-”

“Oh no, that has to be it!” She exclaimed, skillfully faking shock. “Marinette followed me out of school last week and threatened me to stay away from my boyfriend. This boy must have seen her and decided to get rid of her.”

“If that’s the case, why are you questioning my daughter?” Greta pressed, not completely believing Lila but seeming to be coming around to her side.

“As I was saying,” stressed Detective Cooper. “We had suspected that M. Mortaure was stalking your daughter, until we got the warrant for his phone. It seems that someone, supposedly Lila, has been corresponding with him for many weeks. She had been flirting with him, sending him photos of herself, and then Marinette. She went on to tell him that Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was a stalker and had threatened her. M. Mortaure seems to have done what he did with the understanding that he was protecting Lila, at Lila’s own behest.”

“I would never do that!” Lila cried before reaching into her purse to pull out her personal mobile and set it on the table in front of them. “Check my phone, I never messaged him.”

“We have already checked your phone records against the one that has been messaging M. Mortaure, and found that the numbers did not match.” Detective Raimus said, and Lila watched her mother visibly slump from relief… but it was short lived.

“We did, however, track the number to a burner phone that was purchased in cash from a gas station. We thought it was a dead end, but the person who bought the phone made a mistake.” Raimus continued as Detective Cooper pulled out his own mobile and dialed a number. “The person who bought it has kept it on, and it is currently active.”

Seconds after Cooper pressed send, a ringing came from Lila’s purse. Greta Rossi stared at her daughter in shock before yanking the purse out of Lila’s hands and pulling out a second phone from inside. When Cooper cancelled the call, the second phone stopped ringing.

“What have you done?” She spat at Lila.

Panicking, she shook her head while looking around the room for an exit. “That’s not mine! They must have planted it on me when they brought me here! They’re trying to frame me!”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Greta screamed at her daughter, causing Lila to practically fall out of her seat in fear. “You convinced someone to commit MURDER for you! That makes you just as guilty as him!”

“But-but I have diplomatic immunity! I can’t be charged for any of this!”

“Yes, you can,” Greta said, her voice going cold. “I may be a secretary to the Italian Ambassador, which grants me immunity, but that doesn’t extend to you! I told you to behave! I told you to never cause trouble like you did in Roma after what you did to that boy that called you out on your…” Understanding washed over Greta’s features as her expression morphed from anger, to understanding, and then disgust. “That’s it, isn’t it? Marinette never bullied you. She knew about your lies and you set out to hurt her just like before!”

Standing up quickly, her mother started pacing the room before looking back to the detectives. “I’ll still need to speak with the ambassador, but you can expect our full cooperation in this.”

“Mom, no!”

“What are the charges?” Greta asked, acting as though Lila wasn’t even there.

“As Lila is a minor, she can be charged with Complicity to Commit Murder, the decision of sentencing is ultimately up to the judge. But seeing as she purposefully bought a burner phone to use and has also lied to the police, I wouldn’t hold much hope.”

~oOo~

The trial took longer than expected. At first, things had been looking up since her followers from class had come to act as character witnesses. All of them saying how wonderful she was, a great friend that did so much for them and everyone she knew, and that she would never do something so terrible. That Marinette was just jealous of Lila, so it was better to take whatever she said with a grain of salt.

Then, the prosecution started their case. Showing evidence of Lila falsifying records at school, video evidence of her purposefully framing Marinette for assault and theft. As well as the communications between herself and Henry, encouraging him to kill Marinette.

Her followers had still been a bit sceptical to believe what the prosecutor was saying about her, not wanting to believe that they had supported someone who would try to get another person murdered. But then came her past victims, many of whom her mother had never known about. Simone from Rome, Sara from Florence, Giulia from Venice, Daniel from Viterbo, and Sofia from Palermo. All of them testifying against Lila, many with screenshots of threatening texts from her, photos of ruined property and injuries she had inflicted on them, and all around proof that Lila was the reason behind many hardships that had happened to them. And all because they had figured out that she was a liar and she had done everything in her power to hurt them.

After all that, the judge had not been kind.

“It is clear, Mlle. Rossi, that you are a very disturbed girl in need of help,” the judge said, not bothering to hide how offput he was by Lila. “I cannot, in good conscious, allow you to roam freely. Having seen that these habits of yours have not only been repeated over and again, but have escalated to attempted murder. I have no choice but to have you returned to Italy where you will be kept in a juvenile detention center until you turn 18, at which point you will be transferred to a mental hospital for treatment for no less than five years. At which point, you will be evaluated to see if you will be able to safely rejoin society.”

Lila was immediately escorted back to Italy in disgrace. Her name slandered across every newspaper and magazine across Europe for what she had done. She was now famous, with most everyone knowing her name and reporters scrambling to take her picture as she did her walk of shame out of the courthouse. She was finally famous, but for all the wrong reasons

In case you are wondering. Henry made the mistake of coming after Marinette when she was with her parents. Tom and Marinette were in the bakery kitchen and Sabine was at the front. Tom saw the gun and hit him in the face with his rolling pin twice. He dropped the gun but was still coming after Marinette, she tripped him and he landed in the frier, which had been turned on to make donuts, and splashed oil all over him. Sabine had rushed back in time to see a bleeding and badly burned Henry grabbing a knife, she did some wicked moves that resulted in Henry stabbing himself. By then, he passed out from the pain and the Dupain-Chengs had called the police. The officers that came were both impressed and terrified by what happened to the boy, but the surveillance footage proved that they were only defending themselves.

TAGLIST:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @ miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #class salt #miraculous justice #lila karma #tom dupain #sabine cheng #marinette dupain cheng

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reidology · 4 years ago

Text

Dying in a bathtub - Hotchreid

Summary: Hotch gets nightmares and hides in the tub, so Spencer makes it comfy for him <3

Word count: 4.4k

Content warning: discussion and description of nightmares, smut, brief description of physical abuse, light angst, quite fluffy, happy ending <3

AO3

__________________________________________

The first time it happened Spencer woke up shivering, the cold of a missing body beside him seeped through the sheets chilled his bones. He braved a lazy glance to his bedside, squinting to see the alarm clock blinking big and aggressive red numbers. 05:25. Aaron must have gone out for a morning run, something Spencer never understood. In fact, his reasoning of ‘why run, when sleep?’ whenever Aaron attempted to get him to join always earned him an affectionate eye roll and kiss on the cheek, so why would he ever give that up? No promise of endless coffee can get Spencer Reid to wake up before 7am, much less for exercise.

Reluctantly the sleepy man made his way to the bathroom, knowing he might as well shower and get ready for work now, there’s no way he could get back to sleep without his human furnace of a boyfriend covering him completely. Only, through his grogginess he failed to notice the boyfriend-shaped body softly snoring in the tub.

So he padded over to the semi-closed shower curtain and blearily reached in to turn the water on for it to heat up while he got ready.

Almost as soon as the water turned on, a high-pitched shriek assaulted the young agent’s eardrums. Spencer did what, in his opinion, any caught-off-guard fully trained FBI agent would do— he squealed in shock and fell back on his ass. A moment later the shower curtain pulled back, revealing a very irritated -and very wet- Aaron Hotchner.

“Babe what the fuck,” the older man whined, wringing out his shirt and turning the freezing water off, “I was sleeping!”

“Oh this is my fault?!”

“Yes! Couldn’t you see me?!”

“I just woke up!”

“Me too!” Aaron pointed to his wet shirt as if to say you have no excuse for this.

Spencer let out a frustrated sigh and pushed himself up from the floor. Somehow he upset his boyfriend, he guesses apologies are on the table. He carefully stepped into the bathtub to face his dripping boyfriend and wrapped his arms around the soaking man’s neck, “I’m sorry,” he pouted quite prettily, “But honey, why were you sleeping in the tub?”

“I didn’t sleep in the tub. I went to sleep in our bed, then you woke me up in the tub.” Aaron grumbled.

Spencer thought Aaron looked positively insane. His eyes focused on the older man’s pupils as his hands checked for a fever.

“Do you have a concussion?” He couldn’t help but fret about the man who is usually so well put together. He was obviously in distress though what kind of distress completely eluded the dry man. Aaron waved Spencer’s worried hands away from his face, “No. Spence, I’m telling you, I didn’t sleep in the bathtub.”

“Then how did you get here?”

Aaron shrugged and swatted Spencer’s nosy hands away that were trying to inspect the grumpy man for any injuries, “Who knows? Let’s get some breakfast.” He calmly stepped out of the tub and headed out, leaving Spencer confused (for once).

“... But it’s 5 am.”

_____

Two nights later, it happened again. But this time Spencer awoke to the sound of sobbing. His heart just about broke in two at the sight of Aaron curled in on himself in the porcelain tub, shaking and covered in sweat.

The Unit Chief used to have terrors most nights. After Foyet, all of life’s problems seemed to unravel in his dreams. The sounds and images were so vivid that upon waking up he believed he had done what he’d dreamed. That he’d hurt his family or that Foyet had come back to finish the job.

During hard cases, Aaron would forgo sleep completely, knowing his mind would only haunt him with terror beyond his conscious capabilities. It left him exhausted and agitated for the rest of the investigation. The team and LEOs got frustrated but none had the guts to confront him, except for one young agent who took special notice of his boss.

So Spencer stepped in, and after weeks of getting closer and learning more about each other than they had in the past five years of working together, Aaron digressed and accepted the help that was offered. The following three months ensued so smoothly, the therapy was helping and Aaron couldn’t believe he was sleeping full nights again. He knew it was all thanks to Spencer, who had taken up a very special place in his heart. Aaron knew that Spencer would always be there when he woke up, like an anchor. Something real to hold on to and keep him in place.

It had been a while since Aaron had such a bad episode, luckily Spencer knew just what to do and jumped right into action. Without missing a beat, the younger man climbed into the tub and sat by Aaron’s head, taking hold of one of his white-knuckled fists and gently coaxing it open by rubbing his thumbs from the palm to the back of the hand. Constant pressure, soothing, real. With one hand he threaded his fingers through the brunette’s damp hair, stroking softly at his scalp, willing his nightmare mind to latch onto the familiar touch.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” He murmured sweetly like a mantra.

Eventually Aaron’s panicked sobs dissolved into pained whimpers, his body lost some of its tension, allowing for Spencer to gently lift his boyfriend’s head into his lap and off the hard floor of the tub. The whimpers died down to light trembles and Spencer shushed him comfortingly, continuing to sooth him with gentle strokes to his head. Slowly Aaron’s eyes opened and Spencer felt the moment panic set in. The taller man’s breathing quickened and tension returned to his body, frozen in fear. God, Spencer should have turned the lights on.

“It’s just me, darling. You’re home, Aaron. This is home. You’re safe.”

Aaron trembled more, his eyes glazed over as if reliving the nightmare, “Shhh you’re safe.”

Spencer placed a feathery kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead that seemed to anchor him immediately. Tentatively, Aaron looked up at his rescuer, relieved to be in his lover's arms and away from the nightmare universe that had felt so real. He burrowed further into Spencer’s lap, wrapped his shaking arms around his boyfriend’s steady hips. He tried to focus on Spencer’s heartbeat in an attempt to regulate his own. Spencer was warm, Spencer was safe. Always safe.

“Foyet?” Spencer asked cautiously, breath fanning over the older’s forehead. Aaron stilled at the name then nodded. The younger man knows that Aaron needs to talk about it immediately, even if it’s terrifying. It allows him to discern dreams from reality, so that the events and sensations of the night terror don’t ingrain themselves into the man’s memories of reality .

“... and Scratch,” Aaron gulped, “They had Jack. I couldn’t... I didn’t know what was real. Couldn’t tell if it was really Jack. He made me hurt him. Oh god, Spence… I hurt him.” Sobs wracked the pained man’s body once again, unable to forget the horror of the dream. Spencer rocked them back and forth.

“Shh… Jack is fine, he’s at Jess’s. You would never hurt him, Aaron.”

Aaron was spent, he couldn’t muster up the energy to talk. He fell asleep once more in his partner’s comforting hold.

_____

The next morning they woke up with aching muscles from being in the bathtub for so long. Spencer couldn’t help but be worried about his boyfriend. There was definitely something going on, and though he respected Aaron’s privacy immensely, he was afraid of the older man getting into a dangerous situation. Was he sleepwalking to the bathroom? What if he tripped and hit his head on the edge of the tub? But most importantly, why were Aaron’s nightmares leading him to the bathtub?

Spencer nuzzled Aaron’s neck in an effort to wake him up a bit more. “Darling, we need to talk about this.” The worry in Spencer’s voice was audible and prompted Aaron to sit up and sigh deeply. He didn’t think this part of his life would ever come back up to the surface, he’d avoided thinking about it for decades and he didn’t know what triggered the habit to resurface. But now it’s affected Spencer, and he knew he couldn’t keep the love of his life in the dark, but some things were so hard to talk about.

Aaron found himself panicking again, flashes of Foyet and his father clouding his mind once more. Images of Sean taking cover in Aaron’s arms while their father pounds on the bathroom door-

“I know. I-” He was cut off with the sweetest kiss.

“You can take your time sweetheart. No rush.”

Even at this stage in their relationship, Aaron wasn’t used to being treated so well. The kindness that naturally radiated off his boyfriend was enough to make his insides melt, the understanding words never ceased to choke him up. But he knew Spencer would be there to put him back together once he gave him all his pieces. He buried his face in the younger’s neck, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, relaxing into his hold. Spencer wrapped his arms around Aaron’s lean form, offering a safe space. Aaron had never been this vulnerable with anyone before his relationship with Spencer.

After a moment of just holding each other, Aaron’s breathing mellowed out and his voice cracked as he explained everything.

“After Sean was born, my dad started drinking. He’d always been somewhat aggressive, scary even. He- he’d get angry and take it out on my mom… and if she wasn’t there... But when he started drinking it got a thousand times worse. I vowed to myself to protect Sean at all costs, I promised him I would never let our dad get to him. So I took the brunt of it when he was sober. But when he was drunk… he would chase us, try to get to Sean specifically. He was just a little kid 5 or 6, I was 15. He would scour the house to find Sean so I took him and locked us in the only room in the house with a lock… the bathroom. I’d carry Sean in my arms and make a run for it. I blocked off the door with a cabinet and we sat in the tub until he passed out.. My dad couldn’t get in but he would pound on the door so loudly, his voice was so angry-”

Aaron inhaled hard, the grip on the back of Spencer’s shirt tightened and his breathing shallowed. Spencer continued rubbing soothing circles on his back, allowing Aaron to take his time.

“The bathtub was the only safe space for Sean and I. We spent whole nights in there, waiting for my dad to pass out. Sometimes we’d tell stories, play games, but other times we cried and I covered his ears with my hands, not wanting him to hear the horrible things our dad was saying. This went on until I went to college, I tried to take Sean with me but my mother wouldn’t allow it. My dad died a year later, when Sean was 9.

“I- because of that, if any of us had nightmares we’d go into the bathroom and sleep in the tub, because no one could get to us in there.”

Aaron swallowed thickly and timidly looked up to the honey-haired man. Had he sounded pathetic?

But Spencer cupped his cheek once again and kissed him lovingly.

“Thank you for telling me. You’re the strongest person I know, Aaron. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Aaron’s heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through his chest. He swallowed down all his uncertainties and let Spencer in, he was proud of himself. Both of them yawned in succession, still exhausted from last night and uncomfortable from sleeping in the bathtub.

With a cheeky grin the younger man announced, “Let’s go to bed, I’ll get us the day off.” Aaron was so grateful.

While he called in sick, Spencer had an idea, and he knew just who to call.

_____

“Boy Wonder! How wonderful to hear from you on this frabjous day! We miss you and the Bossman dearly. We are definitely… working. Work is happening, and we’re doing it, and it’s getting done. You can trust me on that. Definitely no piñatas in the break room, where would we even find one on such short notice? Emily doesn’t even know where to get balloons! Anyway, what magical service may I bestow upon thee today, my little lord?”

Spencer bit back a chuckle, “Hi Penelope. Listen I need some advice on… interior decorating-”

Immediately, he got cut off by a squeal, “I’m on my way!”

“No! Garcia- after work-”

The line goes flat.

“Dammit. I should’ve just texted JJ.”

_____

Despite her best efforts, the rest of the team did not let Penelope leave the BAU for a ‘design emergency’. Fortunately for Spencer, that gave him some time to plan what he wanted to do while cooking lunch for his sleeping beauty.

After a full meal of soup and grilled cheese, Hotch retreated to the living room hoping to watch some History Channel with Spencer. They love watching the conspiracy shows together and debunking the awful propositions. Though Hotch learned quite surprisingly that Spencer is very open to the idea of aliens on Earth. However, he has a suspicion that that’s mostly wishful thinking on the part of Spencer's inner child. Nevertheless, it’s adorable and Hotch was excited for it, and waiting patiently for Spencer to finish cleaning himself up.

Before he could question what was taking so long, their doorbell rang a sweet lullabye sound (they had to change it from the awful buzzing that it was- it was too overwhelming for Spencer). Not expecting any company, Hotch was puzzled as to who could be at their door.

“Who is it?” He spoke through the intercom.

“Bossman! Sorry to hear about your incurable case of Work Sickness! If you could let me up, I brought you some warm soup!-”

Spencer bounded through the foyer from the bedroom, practically hopping over furniture and knocking down a flower arrangement, “I got it! I got it!” he heaved frantically.

“Babe, what’s Garcia doing in front of our building on a weekday?”

“Nothing Aar don’t worry about it, Penelope and I are just going out for lunch, see you later!”

Spencer grabbed his satchel and was out the door.

“But- Spencer you just had lunch!” The curly haired man was already running down the steps, “Bye!”

It was Hotch’s turn to be left alone and confused.

_____

In Penelope’s car, Spencer explained his idea to Penelope, without going saying too much about Hotch’s nightmares. In true Penelope fashion, the bubbly bits-and-bobs connoisseur knew the perfect place to get what Spencer needed. Penelope dragged Spencer around the independently-owned home goods boutique like a lost puppy for about two hours. She ended up with more bags for herself and Sergio than what Spencer needed.

A few texts and one missed call from Hotch wondering what the hell was taking Spencer so long prompted them to leave. Spencer thanked Penelope in front of their apartment and air kissed her goodbye, promising to show up at girl’s night next week..

Spencer walks into the foyer as quietly as possible and hides the bags behind the living room’s entertainment center.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah! I’m home!”

Aaron walked out of their bedroom with a soft smile. His round glasses were on, meaning he’s been reading… or looking at case files.

“Are you going through the case?” Spencer scolded.

The bespectacled man didn’t waver. “There’s something the victim’s parents said that doesn’t add up, they said that every Thursday Mandy went to soccer practice after school and swim practice in the next town over in the evenings. She takes the bus so if the unsub was stalking her he’d either have to take the same bus and risk getting caught or have a car- which goes against our age profile- so that would mean there’s someone driving him. Spencer, there are TWO unsu-” He was cut off by being pulled into a kiss. He hummed into it and wrapped his arms around Spencer’s slender waist, pulling them closer together. When they pulled apart Spencer whispered “Two unsubs. The team knows, they’re working on it. You-” he tapped his finger on the older’s chin for emphasis, “need to relax today.”

The resulting pretty pout was swiftly kissed away. None of that now.

“But I don’t know how to relax. I’m Aaron Hotchner, stoic as a statue, stern glare extraordinaire, Mr. Emotionless…”

Spencer rolled his eyes and trailed his hands down Aaron’s hard chest, “I know how to make you relax…” The other man grinned “Oh is that right?” Spencer smirked and led his boyfriend to the couch.

_____

That night when Aaron was gone to bed, Spencer quietly retrieved the bags from behind the TV and set his plan in motion.

_____

He’s trembling. And he can’t recognize his own thoughts, he can’t think straight, all he can see is his son- and Haley with terror written all over their faces.

He barely registers the sound of Jack’s wailing because, as if from right behind his ear, he hears a voice that he interprets as his own thought ‘shoot him’.

‘What?’

‘Pull the trigger’

He looks back up to his sobbing, terrified son, and without hesitation- click- BOOM-

Aaron bolted up from the bed, gasping for breath. His eyes darted around the dark. Jack? Where is he- Jack ohmygod-

His vision landed on Spencer’s sleeping form, breathing shallowly and folded into himself like a pretzel, sleeping soundly like an angel. Spencer. Real. Safe. He took a deep breath to regulate his heart. In for 4, hold, out for 6, repeat. This was exhausting.

Groggily, Aaron slipped out from under the covers and headed to the bathroom to get a drink of water and maybe splash his face a little. He thought of getting into the bathtub for the comfort he desperately needed right now, but he’d be embarrassed if Spencer found him in there again. Who does that? But nothing could have prepared Aaron for the sight before him when he opened the door.

Lights. Yellow, green, purple electric lights on strings, illuminating the room in a beautiful calming glow. They were suspended from the curtain rod of the bathtub, taped to the walls. Gorgeously scented candles perched on the sink, some on the ground, a few tea lights lining the edge of the tub. It smelled glorious and comforting and Aaron couldn’t tell what it was. Pine? Sandalwood? Campfire?

The most breath-taking part was the inside of the bathtub. Patterned sheets hung from the walls and draped over to form a delicate roof. Fluffy pillows perfectly laid out to coat every inch of the porcelain interior, and soft blankets piled on top for added comfort. Lights lined the inside of the sheet tent as well, it looked fantastical. Like something out of a book.

Aaron was floored, to say the least. Was this what Spencer had been doing today? He was flooded by a new emotion, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Spencer had done all of this for him? To make him feel safe?

He was still standing just barely in the room, taking everything in and getting emotional when he heard soft footsteps behind him and felt Spencer’s long arms slink around his waist. A chin hooked over his shoulder and a kiss was pressed to his neck.

“Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?”

Aaron nodded, “You did all this… for me?” A tinge of awe decorated his voice.

“Yeah,” his boyfriend whispered back, “So you don’t hurt yourself when you sleep in here.”

Aaron felt stupid for ever thinking his wonderful, thoughtful boyfriend would ever feel embarrassed by him. Of course Spencer took everything he admitted seriously, of course Spencer cared about what he’s been through, Spencer cares… that's what he’s been feeling. Taken care of. Important. For once in his life, he feels like he’s allowed to let himself be loved.

The stunned man seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing how to respond. His mind was overwhelmed with love for his boyfriend. Spencer pulled away and grabbed the older’s hands, Aaron let himself be led to the makeshift fort.

They climbed in together, careful not to knock over any of the burning candles. Spencer settled on one end of the tub and pulled Aaron into him before he could even think of not cuddling with him. He made space with his legs for his boyfriend to settle between, chest pressed to back, arms wrapped around his love. Safe, warm, and comfortable in a sea of cushions like twin yolks in a shell.

Laying here, in his lover's arms, surrounded by low tranquil lights, and the gentle rise and fall of Spencer’s chest, Aaron felt as serene as he’d ever been. Spencer slid warm hands under Aaron’s shirt, bringing one up to rest cozily on his heart. Aaron turned his head and nuzzled further into Spencer’s neck, feeling the familiar tingle of the man’s touch and murmured a low hum of approval.

Spencer’s other hand, that wasn’t on Aaron’s heart, was used to tip the taller man’s chin up to look at him.

“I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind,” he cooed, “sometimes it’s impossible to take yourself out of that world. But in our home, Aaron, I want you to feel safe and protected at all times. I want you to be vulnerable and unashamed. You’re free to be everything you are in here, and I hope that you feel you can be everything you are with me, too.”

Aaron lost himself in his partner’s deep gaze, glorious hazel eyes boring into him. Completely enamored by the words spoken to him, all he could do was nod and lick his lips, trying to regulate his heart rate for a completely different reason now. Spencer had never been so… authoritative before and his sincere but stern tone sent thrilling sparks down his spine. A blush rose up his neck.

Spencer tracked the slow movement of Aaron’s tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and didn’t fight the impulse to drag his thumb over it. “You’re always safe with me.” He barely whispered before angling his head down to catch those lips in a languid kiss. Aaron sighed into it, waiting a little while before pushing himself up to fix their awkward angle. He positioned them so that Spencer was laid down flat on his back, allowing Aaron to lay between his legs once more, chest to chest. They tangled themselves in each other, lips colliding again like a match to a box, igniting a fire in the both of them.

Both were still tired from waking up in the middle of the night, but the desire coursing through their bodies was a more pressing matter. Spencer lifted his hands to frame his lover’s neck and wrapped his legs loosely around his waist, inviting Aaron to grind down onto him, both already half hard from the anticipation. Spencer groaned into Aaron’s mouth. A sound that went right to Aaron’s dick.

They explored each other’s bodies with a youthful novelty, eager to feel more skin. Never once pulling their lips apart. Aaron slipped his hands under Spencer’s shirt and shoved it up under his arms, digging his fingers into those delicious hips. Finally he broke away from the kiss to pepper the younger’s face with sweet ones. Aaron’s heart grew three sizes at Spencer’s soft giggles and let out a low laugh of his own. How ridiculous were they, making out like teenagers in a bathtub fort? Neither much cared to answer that question though, because the impatient genius bucked his hips up to meet his boyfriend’s, who was still in his boxers, let’s get those off.

Spencer eagerly reached for Aaron’s underwear and palmed at his bulge just until he heard that impatient sound from him. He pulled the man’s cock out now fully hard and dripping with precum. A groan escaped the both of them at the sight and sensation. They wasted no time in getting Spencer out of his nerdy physics flannel pajama pants, and grinded their dicks together. Lighting sparked right through the both of them, Aaron balanced himself on one arm near Spencer’s head and took both of their lengths into his right hand.

The rub of their slick cocks together was spectacular as Aaron kept a slow and steady pace, making sure to draw out all the best sounds he knew Spencer could make by nipping at his neck, where he knew the younger man was ticklish. Spencer whined at the excruciating pace, turning into a desperate whimpering mess. Making Spencer wait was so fun.

Spencer’s hands find grip in Aaron’s short hair, keeping him close, feeling the pull of Aaron's big hand on his dick and grinding up to meet him. It’s intoxicating bliss, being taken over the edge by the man he loves.

Their worlds minimized to just the slide of their cocks and the lips on their skin. The whimpering man felt the familiar build up in his abdomen, moaning freely now as he chased his orgasm, guiding Aaron’s hand with his own to feel his touch everywhere.

“Yeah baby,” Aaron encouraged, his own orgasm coming on quickly, “Cum for me baby.”

Spencer sputtered his release over both of their hands and stomachs, momentarily suspended in the intense bliss of his orgasm. He laid there spent, feeling like putty in Aaron’s hands, and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. He took his lover’s cock in hand and pumped him quickly, thumbing the head of his dick on each upstroke. Aaron came with a groan and a shudder, his arms gave out. They laid there catching their breaths for a while, ignoring the drying stickiness between them and tracing slow patterns on each other’s skin. They were so lucky to have each other.

“How are we going to shower now?” Aaron looked up and pouted.

“There’s a perfectly good sink just 5 feet away.” They laughed, Aaron pulled a blanket over them.

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

Taglist: @foxtrot91 @physics-magic @ssa-sarahsunshine @hearteyedhotch

#hotchreid #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x aaron hotchner #spencer reid fic #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds fic #my fic #bathtub au

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