#while talking with family about a relative passing they spoke of having a really hard time communicating with her since she didnt like

[doublyamusing]

My hot take is that ASL should be mandatory from a young age in schools in the USA

[fricc-darn]

How would BEN react to overhearing reader talking fondly of them?

It was one of those days. A day that went on for too long with too much to do. Thankfully, your long day finally came to an end. As exhausting as it was, the only thing on your mind was to quickly get back home and relax. The stroll back home wasn't glamorous by any means; there was litter on the pavement, and noisy cars were zipping by during rush hour. The city life is what you knew, and frankly, you enjoyed it here.

You learned to appreciate its beauty from being cooped up inside for so long. The sun embracing your skin with its warmth, freshly cut grass, people, and animals. It was the small things that mattered. On your walk, you passed by a corner store. You worked hard, so why not get a little snack as a reward?

The bell chimed as you opened the heavy glass door. Immediately you make a B-line towards the snack section. You snatched a big bag of chips before making your way to the freezer section. A nice, sunny day like this called for some ice cream.

Your eyes repeatedly scanned the frozen food section. The options were many, and you were horribly indecisive. A gentle tap on your shoulder distracted you from your decision-making. Were you in someone's way? You turned around while scooting to the side. It took you a moment to realize that person was your close friend! It felt as though it had been ages since you two last met.

You haven't been able to see friends or family for some time now. At most, it's been sporadic visits. Speaking to people felt disjointed. You felt as if everything you say and do was being surveillanced. Dealing with others became so stressful that you often opted to stay home. That nagging thought in the back of your head knew your questionable health was because of BEN. Alas, what was the point in complaining? You wanted to be with them; it was better to be on their relatively good side anyway.

You cheerfully greeted your friend back with a hug. After so long without contact, it was time to play catch-up. The two of you went on about life and anything interesting that it had to offer. As much as you enjoyed the talk, your friend spoke much more, and it was obvious. That's when the concerned questions came in.

"Hey, you sound really tired. Are you sure you're alright?"

Anything that had a hint of worry, you brushed off. Tired? No, it was a super long day, and all of your responsibilities drained you. It wasn't like you were lying per se; you were just slightly exaggerating. Deflecting was an easy way to cut questions short. It was a tactic you trained yourself to use. Without it, you would've certainly started yapping about BEN. People would think you were delusional. That scenario would definitely end with you up in a psychiatric unit.

Your answers were going smoothly until your friend hit you with the cold water. A question you never thought of.

"So, tell me! Have you gone out with anyone lately?"

You didn't respond. Noticing that your attention gave way, your friend went on about their own endeavors. You weren't sure how to answer. By taking the time to think, your brain begins to spiral. Obviously, the answer was yes, but how would you go about explaining this vaguely? You never spoke about BEN to anyone. What response would it want? Would it like to be talked about? How could you go about this without getting your friend in harm's way? Did that even matter? BEN probably knew of your friend from your contact information anyway. Why did things have to be so difficult?

You threw in the towel. Settling on something that seemed like the best option. You kept it simple and brought up BEN. Not by name and not as your partner. Just as "someone". It was open ended where it could've been interpreted as any relationship. Though you let one thing be known, and it was how much you cared for them. It made you happy that you had the chance to learn more about them. Even in the smallest degree.

The more you went on, your nervousness subdued and the shakiness in your voice faded. The last thing you ever expected was to be praising BEN to anyone.

From how you described, BEN seemed like they were a joy to be around, despite their closed-off nature. They were absolutely fascinating, witty, and cute. You knew the last part was really debatable so, you didn't show any pictures.

The tangent you went on could've been seen as a crush but it didn't matter. Both you and your friend were laughing and having a good time. As you collected your breath, you figured it was time to head out. All that banter took what little energy you had left. You said your goodbyes and sent them off with another hug. You went back to staring at the freezer. Finally picking out an ice cream, you quickly paid and left the building.

Unbeknownst to you, BEN was lurking and heard everything through your phone. They felt...weird to say the least. You spoke so well of them. Were you that deluded from reality to say such sweet things about them of all people? It wasn't in their nature to be nice. Yet, you managed to find so many good things to say about them with relative ease. How noble.

It was funny. When was the last time someone gave them a compliment? They didn't want to linger on those thoughts.

A pathetically weak part of them thought it was slightly uncomfortable to hear. Maybe even a bit upsetting. Those compliments were humanizing, and that made them feel uneasy. BEN would never admit it; that was just an insignificant thought. A weakness that needed to be weeded out. They're better than feeling such things.

It knew what you said was true. Their uppity attitude made sure that superiority was known. Nonetheless, it certainly enjoyed the flattery. Even if you were slightly worn out from their antics, you were still strong-willed. That was impressive. It made playing with you a delight; no wonder they kept you around for so long.

Once you step foot out the door, your phone went off. You contemplated ignoring the call, you had things to carry. You couldn't ignore the feeling in your gut saying otherwise. Taking a look at your phone you groaned. Great, it was an unregistered number calling. You had a hunch as to who it could be and decided to pick it up.

The call was silent.

Faint static crackled on the other end of the line. It was soon replaced with an ear pericing ringing. The sound was beyond agitating. Annoyed, you spoke into the phone.

"Hello?"

"How sweet."

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Your gut was right. It's just BEN. Not like you were complaining; at least it was BEN bothering you and not some other weirdo. The grating ringing came to a stop. Listening carefully to what they had to say, you heard it giggling! Your lips slowly curled up into a smile. Even if you didn't know what they were laughing about. Their distorted laugh was cute in this situation.

"What do you mean 'How sweet.'? What's so funny?"

"Your little talk humored me."

The realization immediately got you flustered. It was a bit embarrassing they heard you gush over them. You didn't know when they were listening. Honestly, you forgot about that possibility entirely. You needed to know if they really heard everything.

"Did you-"

The call abruptly ended in the middle of your sentence. Your brows furrowed together. You huffed at their unsatisfying answer. What a bitch! Still, you couldn't wipe that faint smile off your face. There was nothing to do but brush it off. Thankfully, it seemed to take your compliments well. With a newfound pep in your step, you eagerly resumed your walk home.

[zsakuva]

I was watching your stream yesterday, and you mentioned Isaac speaks Japanese.

It made me kinda curious, since, if his mother passed so early on (around 12 if I remember correctly), and his grandfather was from his father’s side, how did he manage to upkeep it for so long? Did he have friends in college who spoke it, or maybe some distant relatives? 

Even if, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for someone who hasn’t had a consistent conversation partner for 17 years to speak 3 languages fluently, (counting Spanish).

I grew up having to juggle three languages at home, and I still find it really difficult to speak and express myself in all of them properly, despite having family and friends I can talk to everyday. A part of me wants to think he tried consuming Japanese media to keep a part of his mother alive, but that’s probably me just overly romanticizing reality haha~. 

I’ve been following Isaac’s series since the beginning, and while it’s sad to see him go, I really enjoyed the ride:)) Thank you for your hard work! All of your characters are super well written and the level of detail, down to the accuracy of the geographical locations (which still blows my mind), and the small links between each of the series is actually insane. I’d kill to meet any of your oc’s irl (except for Alex *cough*). So yeah, thank you:)

(also, please ignore the grammar/spelling, this was one stream of consciousness rip)

I'd assume that, due to how fond he was of his mother and the memories they made together, he'd actively attempt to keep it close. Universities are very diverse, so I can imagine him making Japanese friends, or those who spoke the language.

I'd also think that his job and the clientele he interacts with would be from all over, including Japan, so he'd need to be adept enough in the language to read, write, and speak it. Within his library, I'd expect there to be Japanese books among them too!

In my eyes, he wouldn't forgive himself if he lost that skill because he would view it as losing a part of his mother, something he desperately strives to save.

Thank you so much for the support! (And don't worry about the writing haha)

[tommyspeakycap]

Shelby!Sister getting poisoned whilst at dinner with the whole family?

changed it up a bit; reader is roofied at one of Tommy’s fancy ball type parties and there’s one particular gentleman around to help her out.

Good Team

Tommy had, since you were merely a little girl, endeavoured to introduce you emphatically as (y/n) Shelby, with your surname stated soaked in ferocity and warning. You are a Shelby. You are his little sister. He makes sure people know this. He makes sure they’re aware. He sees it as a pre-warning, the kind that lets them know that you are very very important to him without actually saying those words. He sees it very much as a pre-warning for grievous bodily harm had any trouble befell you at another persons discretion. It was made incredibly clear from the moment you were born that you were so far from off limits to the enemies that it didn’t even need to be spoken.

However, it was a relatively occasional occurrence that this message was not accurately conveyed no matter how clear your elder brother was about the matter.

You were usually so cautious and so careful, but you were in your brothers own ballroom with his own supplied champagne and you had very few worries of such a simple business gathering for Christmas. You were adorning an extortionate dress that Tommy had made for you with a beautiful fur shoulder wrap, cheeks dusted with a champagne blush and a gorgeous smile as you mingle with rich business people and rich couples who were born into money. They were amazing at times to ogle at, coming from such a poor background. It was hard enough to adjust to your new life flaunting pretty dressed and walking around with a purpose and a job that had significant purpose.

But it would be safe to say you weren’t so worried around these people. You should’ve known better.

You keep blinking, squeezing your eyes shut to try and find vision again that wasn’t restricted by blurriness. The heels on your feet didn’t aid you much in the way of keeping your balance as you stumble into a long hall. You don’t remember where you last saw Tommy and you can’t remember where the glass you were holding had gone. You don’t know much, but you know you have to find one of your brothers.

Heavy footsteps behind you send a rush of hazed adrenaline through your veins, forcing your legs to move you faster, your arms scratching off paintings lining the walls as you attempt to use the wall as a stabiliser.

“Someone’s ‘ad a bit much, eh?”

Your eyelids flicker as you try to keep them open against the light that makes you feel like your head is exploding. “No, no I- there’s someone trying to get me!” You hiss in a slurred whisper with arms that flail somewhat aimlessly as you attempt to point out the person behind you. The man with his his on your biceps steadying you leans around to get a good look behind you. “Mhm, there me no one there love.” He says, confused. You can only vaguely make out who the person is that holds you up and it’s someone you know your brother only invited so as to attempt to talk him into taking on more Blinders for distillery protection.

Alfie Solomons wasn’t entirely the most trustworthy person that surrounded your family. Him and Tommy had a bit of a tendency to betray each other, no matter how expected it always was. The London gangster probably wasn’t the best person for you to bump into and definitely not the most reliable, but he was who you had ended up with and although it could have been him that drugged you, it didn’t seem incredibly likely. He told Tommy and Grace when greeting people at the front door; “No need for the fucking niceties eh Tommy? I’m here for the free booze mate yeah?” and walked on through with a pat on your brothers back.

Despite the fact you didn’t have much trust in him, you really holed that he wouldn’t pass you off as being overly drunk and leave you alone. You feel dreadfully unwell. Alfie looks down the hall, then back at you and with a sigh, he slips his strong arm around your waist and pulls you into his side for your stability. “I think you’re right, Shelby.” Alfie mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for even you to hear. “Something‘s just not right.” He turns to you, using his arm that wasn’t wrapped around you to lift up your eyelid. Beyond the terror in your eyes in huge pupils. “You’ve been drugged,” he states, his voice still low. “Better find those brothers of yours.”

That brings you some form of relief, but the terror still remains. It’s a scary situation, to know what you want to do with your limbs and know exactly what you want to say, but to be unable to speak or walk or even hold up your head. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing and you were drenched in sweat. It’s a shock you didn’t recognise you had been drugged before hearing Alfie say it.

His arm is tight around the waistline of your expensive ballgown, keeping you steady against him as he walked as quickly as he could manage while supporting your weight. He only vaguely knew the way around Tommy’s huge country house, but he did know where the man’s office was, and he’d likely have a maid in waiting there who Alfie could send to fetch him once he got you there. As you both rounded the corner into the corridor that would take you to Tommy’s office, there a man dressed like a waiter standing seemingly waiting for you. “Mister Shelby sent me to collect his sister when he heard she was overly inebriated.” The man spoke. Alfie furrowed his eyebrows tightly, but nodded and walked you closer to him. You want to protest, but your mind still won’t coordinate with your body and the most you can do is grumble. “She’s a bit hard to deal with,” Alfie admits, “So a tip you should really know for the future?“ He pauses, moving as though he’s going to pass you over to the arms of the other man. Alfie leans in until he’s only a few inches away and whispers a warning “I fucking hate liars,” before sharply drawing back his head only to but it forward forcefully into the man’s face.

He stumbles back and Alfie takes that opportunity to grab the front of his suit jacket and throw him behind the two of you with a kick to his ribs a few times for good measure. He wraps his arm back around your waist and continues on down the hall as if nothing had ever happened. “Could tell by his-fuck!”

A yelp leaves you as your legs tangled when you attempt to bare your own weight and instead clatter to the floor with a thud. Alfie grunts and you fight to open your heavy eyelids to see that a man had dove out at him from a doorway along the long hall and there were now two of them and two of you, except they were both conscious and had full control of their own bodies, whereas it fell upon Alfie to fight for both of you. The Londoner truly does not know why he has put himself in this situation for anyone, never mind for a Shelby he had only met a handful of times. But every time he had met you, you were incredibly sweet and kind to him. He knows that they’ll stop attacking him if he allows them to take you and do as they please with you, but something in him prevents him from doing that. There’s a part of him that encourages him to spit the blood from his mouth and stand in front of where you lay in and out of consciousness on the fell, ready to fight for you like he had something to lose if he couldn’t protect you. Tommy would never know Alfie was there with you if he walked away now, but something in him wants to be there. Wants to fight for you.

And so fight he does, throwing punch after punch, trying to take on two at once. Alfie managed to take the blonde assailant out of the game by cracking the wall with his blonde head of hair, leaving him out cold and potentially dying on the floor. When he does that though, his moment of glory is short lived before the other appears behind him with an arm tightly around his throat. Alfie squirms and grunts, kicks and scratches attempting to get him off, but the attacker holds on despite the blows. Alfie thinks he may well have to accept his fate.

Then he clocks you again on the floor, except this time your hands and trailing up your leg, hiking up your dress and he is utterly confused at your behaviour, thinking that it must be the drugs acting weird in your system. That is, until your dress reaches your upper thigh and the London gangster feels what he thinks may be butterflies when he spots the holster and gun that had been well hidden by your long ballgown. He would laugh, grin even if he wasn’t being strangled nearly to death. He watched with blurry vision as you try to steady your hands enough to point the gun at the attacker that was too bury trying to hold Alfie Solomons down to notice your movements. Alfie squeezes his eyes shut as you move your finger over the trigger and he hopes to God your heads are steady enough to shoot the right person.

The bang goes off and very suddenly he can breathe again. He notes that’s a good sign. He scrambles away quickly, turning around to press his foot onto the bullet wound in the shoulder of his attacker. “I will come back for you.” He growls in warning, pressing his foot harder to elicit a scream before he nods and turns back to where you stand. He wipes the blood off the bottom of his shoe on the carpet before he steps forward to swoop your gun off the floor to slip it back into your thigh holster, and then he helps you back up. Except this time, he opts to sweep you off your feet and into his arms bridal style.

“Good shot.” He notes. You breath a chuckle with hooded eyes in response, but can’t manage anything else. If you hadn’t been severely drugged, Alfie might’ve kissed you.

He makes it to Tommy’s office with ease, ordering the maid to get your brother immediately. Alfie lays you down on the soft couch in the office, placing you carefully on on your side for safety in case you’re sick. He uses the not blood tinted side of his handkerchief to wire some blood splatter and sweat from your face gently, and offers a gentle smile. “We make a good team, Solomons.” You hum with words slurred and jumped, but he understand what you said nonetheless. “That we do, Shelby.” He rumbles back in response.

The moment is as any moment of yours often is, interrupted by your elder brothers storming in. Immediately, Alfie is ripped from your side by Arthur slamming the him roughly against the wall with a loud clatter and bang. John goes to stand by Arthur’s side, and Tommy takes a knee beside you. The patriarch places his cool hand against your forehead before dipping down to place his ear just above your lips. “She’s breathing.” He concludes, “What the fuck did you do to her?” He sneers through gritted teeth as he takes steps towards Alfie.

“And why the fuck and you covered in blood.” Alfie sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and flaring his nostrils at the proximity of the three Shelby brothers. “Funny story, you see Tommy.” He grumbles discontentedly, “Seems as though someone tried after your sister right under your fucking nose, mate. Drugged her drink, removed her from the crowd. I found her wandering the halls all fuckin’ disoriented yeah. Now I don’t like a man who targets a woman, much less has to fuckin’ drug her to achieve it.” Alfie shrugs. Tommy narrows his eyes, but something in him believes what the Camden Town Gangster is saying. Alfie doesn’t have much in the way of necessity for taking you and it wouldn’t make sense for him to have the opportunity to but instead to bring you here. Right to them. “Doesn’t explain the fucking blood.” Arthur hisses, slamming his back against the wall again.

Alfie holds up his hands. “You’re little sister isn’t such a damsel as you make her out to be, Thomas. She has a fantastic shot. Some cunts-“ Alfie’s words drop with pure venom as the reminder of the man nearly strangling him to death reenters his mind, “Came after her. On that note, you’ll need a carpet cleaner and some body bags just along that hall. Don’t let the missus see that mess.”

Tommy paused for a moment, his eyes not leaving Alfie’s even when he speaks. “John, check that corridor.” He orders, making his younger brother grunt in annoyance but do as told nonetheless. “Arthur,” He grumbles, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Take our sister upstairs and get Polly.” Arthur is hesitant. Tommy might believe the words that Alfie speaks, but Arthur despises him and the only thing he hates more than Alfie is the thought of Alfie’s hands on you without any of them being there to help you, protect you. He knows that he and a Tommy are asking themselves the same question. How could something like this happen to you right beneath their noses. How had someone managed to get to when they were so close, literally right in the same room in an event organised by them. Arthur couldn’t answer the question, but could probably have killed Alfie in his rage at that moment. “Arthur,” Tommy repeats more firmly, “Go.”

This time, he listens. But that’s not without a warning glare at Alfie, who simply offers a smirk in response. “And you,” Tommy says finally, turning his attention to Alfie, “Fuck off.”

Alfie chuckles, but begins to walk past Tommy to leave the office when the smaller man grabs his arm in a vice like grip that makes the tips of his fingers tingle with the strength of it. Alfie feigns the urge to fight back in reaction to the pain. Tommy leans in close to his ear with a low snarl, “You don’t just help people. I don’t care what the reason was eh, but don’t you ever go near my sister again.”

Then he lets go and Alfie simply shakes off his arm and walks away. He hasn’t listened to Tommy Shelby any time in the past, and it appears as though today will be no different.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Content/Warnings: mentions of Diana’s Alzheimer’s and Schizophrenia, prison, separation of father and daughter, swearing

A/N: i hope you guys enjoy my new fic! this may be about 8 chapters or so! i’m not sure yet, going to see how interested people are in the plot :) (also quick disclaimer: i have never been in the foster care system so please excuse any inaccuracies)

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Spencer never wanted his daughter to see him like this, being brought into the BAU bullpen in handcuffs. He was supposed to be the good guy.

Right now, he couldn’t tell if he still was. He had good intentions going down to Mexico to get non-FDA approved medicine for his mom but he may have killed someone in the process. If only he could just remember.

Camellia ran into his arms to hug him, a hug he so desperately wanted to return if it wasn’t for these stupid cuffs around his wrists.

“They can’t just take you away, Dad,” she cried.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m going to get back to you as soon as possible,” he promised, kissing the top of her head.

Spencer felt absolutely crushed as the guards had to drag his crying 11-year-old off of him so he could be taken to his holding cell.

-

You had just gotten off of work when your phone rang. Eileen, the head foster care coordinator, was calling.

“Hello,” you answered.

“Hey Y/N,” she greeted you, “I know you haven’t had a foster kid in a few months but I kind of have an urgent case. 11-year-old sixth grade girl. Mom has been out of the picture for a while, Dad recently imprisoned and on trial for murder. There are a bunch of family friends willing to take her but no direct family,” she explained.

“I can take her for as long as she needs,” you told Eileen.

“Great! I’ll text you the address, it’s the FBI headquarters.”

-

When you walked into the BAU, still in your dino scrubs and white lab coat, Eileen was surrounded by a frantic group of people.

“As I said before, I don’t doubt any of your credentials but this is the law. We can only give away a child to direct family at this point in time. If you are not direct family, you will need a lawyer to fight for custody as well as permission from her father but that process could take months,” Eileen stated.

“Spencer hasn’t spoken to his father in years and his mother is in a facility for her schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s,” a dark-haired woman spoke.

“Exactly so she must be turned over to the foster care system. I apologize to you all but this is how it works. We can’t bend the rules,” Eileen said.

“I don’t want Callie fending for herself in a house with 20 other kids,” a blonde-haired woman argued, “I’m her godmother. She stays with me all the time. She was staying with me while Spencer was in Mexico.”

“Sorry, my answer is still no. But, hopefully this will squash your concerns, Y/N!” she called you over, “This is Y/N. Jo will be placed with her. She is a pediatric doctor and currently has no other foster kids at the moment but all of her past kids have absolutely adored her. She always passes her surprise safety and wellness checks with flying colors.

“Hi,” you waved, intimidated by this huge group of frustrated people with guns on their hips.

“A doctor? So she isn’t even going to be home most of the time,” a curly-haired man scoffed.

“Actually, I own my own practice. I don’t work at a hospital so I usually have a regular 8-4 shift unless one of my patients needs urgent attention,” you clarified.

“JJ, don’t make me go,” a girl, who you could only assume was Callie, sobbed.

They were all staring at you like you were the worst person on Earth. You wanted to shrivel up and die. When you went through the process of becoming a foster parent, you thought this was a very admirable thing to do. You just wanted to provide a good home to kids in need.

“Do any of you have a key to Dr. Reid’s residence so Camellia can pack a bag?” you asked politely.

The woman closest to Callie that must be JJ pulled a key off of her chain and handed it to you.

“I’ll-um-leave my phone number and address here so you guys can contact me at any time or stop by. I understand your concerns but please know I try my absolute hardest to make sure all kids feel welcome and safe in my house,” you scribbled your information down on a scrap piece of paper.

“Are you ready to go, Camellia?” you asked softly.

She went around hugging everyone in the circle before solemnly nodding to you.

God, you felt like such an asshole.

-

After Callie finished packing her things from her bedroom in relative silence, you returned to the car.

“I don’t know what you like to eat but we can stop at the grocery store so we can get stuff you like and any other things you need,” you said.

You were met with silence from the backseat. You offered for her to sit in the passenger seat but she declined.

“Listen, I’m really not trying to be the bad guy here. Please don’t make me out to be one. I know you are having a tough time with your Dad’s situation right now but shutting everyone else out won’t help,” you spoke softly, “Trust me, I know.”

You sighed when the silence continued. You pulled out of the Reid’s driveway and headed to the grocery store.

-

You let Callie lead when you entered the grocery store, opting to follow behind her with the cart. She went immediately to the frozen meal section and started throwing them in.

“Camellia, that’s fine if those are what you want but just so you know, I love to cook so I can make you anything you want,” you offered.

“This is what I’m used to,” she spoke sharply, “My dad is not a bad dad, he just usually doesn’t have much time.”

“I never claimed he was,” you defended yourself.

After that, you kept your mouth shut. Clearly, she was a very independent girl and she had her own routine she liked to stick to.

-

You hauled all the grocery bags inside the house and unloaded them as Callie brought in her suitcases.

“So Camellia, I put all the food you picked out in these two cabinets. I mean obviously, you are welcome to anything in the kitchen but I just wanted you to know where the things you picked out were. I always have a grocery list on the fridge that you can add to,” you began to give her a tour of the house, “Bathroom is in there. There’s another upstairs. Here’s the living room with a TV,” you headed up the stairs, “Here’s my room.”

On your bed was an adorable toyger kitten cuddled up on your pillow.

“Oh! This is Winnie like Winnie the Pooh. I just got her a few weeks ago from a shelter. She is super friendly and loves snuggles so she will probably try to sneak into your bed unless you keep your door closed.”

“I don’t mind,” Callie spoke softly as she petted Winnie.

You smiled softly. These were the first words you got out of her that weren’t a rejection.

You continued the tour, “There’s a bathroom between our rooms but I tend to use the downstairs one so feel free to make it your own. And here’s your room,” you opened the door to a white room with a queen bed in the center, a small bookshelf, a few plants, and paintings.

“I hope this is good enough for now. We can go out this weekend to a home goods store if you want to redecorate. I’d even be open to repainting it if you want,” you offered.

Callie just set her bags down and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be. I’ll probably be downstairs for a while watching TV if you want to join. Let me know if you want me to make you anything,” you began to shut the door but Winnie slipped in first.

“Good night, you guys,” you smiled softly.

-

“Do you want me to wait out here or come in with you?” you asked softly.

Spencer had been denied bail, meaning he was transferred to a federal prison and Callie was going to be staying with you for a while. She had taken the news rather hard as expected when the team came over to your house to tell her. You still weren’t really accepted by the group so you mostly stood in the corner of the kitchen while they were all in your living room.

You had spoken to Eileen several times about Callie’s current situation. She gave you permission to do whatever you saw fit. This means you could opt her out of school one or two days a week if she wasn’t feeling up to it as long as she emailed her teachers and got her missed work in on time. You were researching different therapists for her to talk to because she didn’t seem to want to open up to you. You were also given a schedule of visiting times for her to visit her dad in prison.

“I’ll just go in alone,” she walked in the door to the visiting room, leaving you in the waiting room.

-

“Dad,” Callie tried to hug Spencer but the guard pointed to the ‘No Touching’ sign posted on the wall.

They both sat down defeatedly at opposite ends of the table.

“How are you?” Callie inquired, wiping her tears away from seeing her father locked up.

“I don’t want to talk about me, sweetheart. How are you? Emily and my lawyer visited yesterday and told me you had to be placed into foster care,” Spencer asked, concerned.

“It’s okay. Not the best,” she sighed.

“What’s happening? Are they hurting you? Are they not giving you enough to eat? Callie, I’ll have my lawyer on the phone and you out of there so quick,” Spencer frantically stated.

“No, Dad. Y/N is fine…nice, even. But she’s not you,” Callie cried.

Spencer’s face softened, “I’m so sorry, Callie. You don’t deserve to be dealing with any of this.”

“Just please come home,” she sniffled.

“I’m trying, sweetheart, I’m really trying,” he replied earnestly with tears in his eyes.

A/N: i will also be starting a series taglist if you don’t want to be added to my main taglist so just clarify which one you want to join! also i recommend listening to the song Home by Phillip Phillips because it is kind of like the theme song for this story

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme

[lemonpeter]

🧡Day 1: Inc*st🧡

Really starting off strong huh lol anyway, this is very background heavy (I don’t know what happened but now I’m obsessed) and I hope y’all enjoy 🧡

Warnings: inc*st, nff, father/son (but they don’t know), Peter is 18 and an intern at SI, brief substance ab*se mention (and impaired s*x, not between starker)

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

There was always room for accident, though.

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

He never had sex without multiple levels of protection. And he was famous enough that people rarely tried to argue against it. Sleeping with him at all fulfilled what they wanted.

So things were perfectly fine. He never had an issue, he was always completely safe with his partners.

Except for this one night.

He was in a self-destructive episode, in the downward spiral before he hit rock bottom. Mixed every possible substance that shouldn’t have been mixed, impairing him until he wasn’t sure which way was up.

And he had a woman spiraling right along with him.

Her name was…Mary. Mary something. She was a scientist in some field, but he didn’t catch anything else. Or he just didn’t remember it. It didn’t matter anyways, they were both just wanting to ignore what was around them. What their lives had served them.

And maybe he forgot to ask if she was on birth control when he sloppily kissed over her neck.

Maybe he fumbled with the condom to the point where she whispered, “We’ll be fine,” and he believed her.

How it happened didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it did.

Tony didn’t even know.

He didn’t ask for her number the next morning, he just hid out in the bathroom, emptying his stomach of its entire contents while he waited for her to leave.

She was gone by the time he could see straight.

Thank god.

He never heard from her again.

Mary Parker and her husband died six years later and he never knew.

He didn’t know that they had a son. Or she did, at least. There was no way for him to know that the son had been passed along to his aunt and uncle when no other relative was found.

He never knew that Mary Parker had a son. And that her husband wasn’t the one who got her pregnant.

She never crossed his mind again after she left him.

***

Enter Peter.

Tony had new interns come in every year, typically college students that needed the credits, but sometimes someone special would come along.

Peter was a high school senior, but he was one of the smartest people that Tony had ever come across.

Tony had a job lined up for him as soon as he graduated if he wanted it. Not that he’d told him that yet.

He swore that he wasn’t a stalker. He had to prove to Pepper that he wasn’t giving too much attention to one intern over another, and for him that meant that he needed to stay away from Peter personally.

No matter how tempting it was. There had to be a family history of such genius, right? That kind of brains didn’t just occur at random.

But he didn’t look into him at all. He wouldn’t even let himself google search his name.

Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Peter Parker.

Although maybe he could just do it the old fashioned way. Minimal favoritism involved.

He spent months working with Peter. They became friends. Close friends.

It got to the point where Tony couldn’t help the smile he had when he looked into those warm brown eyes.

He felt it happen, it was official. Peter Parker had his heart.

It didn’t matter how wrong it was, he couldn’t help it. The young man had completely gotten hold of him.

And he hoped that it was mutual.

***

“Peter, can you stay back for a second?” Tony was still standing at the lab table, eyes scanning over the coding that they’d put in place during the session.

Like that was actually what was on his mind.

The young man looked up with wide eyes. Very deer-in-headlights. But it was so cute on him.

“Y-yeah! I actually needed to tell you something, so yes, I can definitely do that.”

Peter sounded a bit nervous which made Tony pause. Maybe his confession could wait a while. Maybe forever. Whatever was on Peter’s mind was infinitely more important to him.

“Okay, you first. I can follow up.” Tony tucked his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the table.

His cheeks burned. “No- no, you can go first. Don’t worry.”

The older man let out a breath. “Peter, you say what you need to. I can wait.”

Peter looked at him, face flushed. He hadn’t really meant to blurt out that he had something to say. He’d thought about it, sure. But he didn’t know-

His brain couldn’t keep up with his body and suddenly he was leaning up, pressing his lips to Tony’s.

The older man froze. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all. But then he relaxed into it, kissing back.

Who knew that they both had the same confession?

But it wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Tony pulled away once he finally got control of his senses again, raking a hand through his hair. “Pete, I’m supposed to be the adult here. I can’t be a good role model if I’m….”

When was he ever a good role model?

“Let me start again. I’m an adult. Kid, I’m old. Old enough to be your dad. And you’re…how old?”

“I turned eighteen in august,” he supplied helpfully.

At least it was legal.

“Eighteen. That’s a thirty year age difference.” Jesus, he was creepy. Falling for an eighteen year old. He couldn’t even buy alcohol for himself.

Peter blinked up at him. “So? I like you, Mr. Stark. I don’t care how old you are.”

Tony sighed softly. “You’re gonna be the death of me. And it’s Tony. If this is what’s happening, call me Tony.”

Even though it had been his plan to confess his feelings anyway, the guilt was still eating at him. He had fallen for a teenager who was just barely legal.

“What is happening, Mr.- Tony?”

Tony leaned in for another kiss, sighing softly. “What do you want to happen, kid?”

“Oh. Well, um, not to be blunt, but- I just- I mean- I really want you.”

He was cute. Innocent. But Tony could tell that what he meant was a bit less innocent.

“Are you sure? You realize this is a bad idea on...a lot of levels, right?”

Peter huffed softly, looking up at him with a stubborn expression. “I don’t care. We can be sneaky.”

Tony snorted. ‘Sneaky’ wasn’t really how he’d describe it, but he had to remind himself that his terms were a lot different than Peter’s. Different generations and all that.

He was horrible.

“Okay, kid. We can take this upstairs-” where there was no one to walk in on them. “-and talk about what exactly you’re thinking.”

“How about we don’t talk about it and we just...do?” Peter gave him a shy, devious smile.

“Uh huh. We’ll see.”

Tony grabbed his wrist gently, glancing in the hallway to make sure that no one was coming before he dragged him to the elevator.

Before he could get another word out, Peter’s lips were on his again. And this time there was more heat behind it.

He kissed back, eyes slipping shut just as the elevator doors did. Their lips pushed together insistently and he felt Peter’s tongue clumsily swiping over his lip.

He suppressed a laugh and parted his lips, allowing Peter to lead.

It was all so curious and clumsy that he wondered just how many times Peter had ever kissed anyone. If any. But that was a question for later.

The elevator dinged softly when they reached the penthouse and only then did they pull away from each other.

Tony led Peter out, instantly heading for his bedroom. Bad idea or no, he’d imagined such a scenario so many times. He didn’t want to waste any time.

“Tony?” Peter spoke up, eyes on the bed. “I know this is really straightforward, but I’m glad you, like, don’t hate me. I’ve thought about this...a lot.”

“You and me both,” the older man murmured. “Something I feel like we should cover before anything else...how far are you wanting to go?”

Peter chewed his lip. “Not to rush things, but I really really want to go all the way.”

“Well, not to rush things, but I want that too.” Tony gave him a small grin. “Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm?”

The confused look that he got made him feel guilty again. Just how much had Peter ever done with anyone else?

“Top or bottom, honey. Receiving or giving, pitching or catching, whatever you want to say. What do you want to do?”

Peter blushed, deciding to distract from the question at hand by pulling his shirt off.

It worked. Tony’s attention was instantly elsewhere, his eyes focused on his trim waist but hard muscle.

“Jesus, kid. That’s...wow.” If he wasn’t hard before, he was definitely getting there from seeing just what his innocent little intern was hiding under loose clothing.

“Like it?” The young man grinned to himself, one hand sensually sliding from the v of his hips up to his chest.

Perfect abs. Round, firm pecs. Jesus, Tony was entranced.

But he remembered what he’d asked. “Peter, top or bottom. What’s your preference?”

“I- I don’t...know.”

There it was.

Tony looked at him, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip quickly. “You’re a virgin.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it for sure. It wasn’t surprising.

Peter got defensive. “I’ve done some stuff.”

“Uh huh. What ‘stuff’?”

He refused to look at Tony, his eyes on his hands as he played with the button on his jeans. “I’ve given oral. Guys and girls. And I’ve gotten, like, a couple handjobs and blowjobs.”

Tony closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be your first. This- Peter, this is such a bad idea. You should be with someone your own age.”

Peter made an indignant sound, popping the button on his jeans and unzipping them out of protest. “I don’t want someone my own age. I want you.”

He said it with such finality.

Tony stepped closer to the bed, his hands cupping Peter’s face gently. “You promise me you won’t regret this?”

“There’s nothing that could make me regret this.” Peter unbuckled Tony’s belt, slowly pulling it out of the loops before dropping it to the floor.

Tony nodded slowly, not fighting when Peter pushed his slacks down. It was really happening.

“Holy shit-” Peter’s eyes were wide. His eyes were fixed on the way that Tony’s dick was straining at the front of his tight boxers. There was a nervous look in his eyes.

“Good or bad?” Tony teased a little.

“Good. Good, oh man.” Peter reached down and squeezed himself hard. “So big….”

That was nice to hear. “You think so? Do you think you could take it, sweetheart?”

Peter’s fingers ghosted over the length slowly, making it twitch in its confines. “I...I want to try.”

Tony nodded. “We’ll make it fit. Let’s finish getting you undressed.” He pulled his own shirt off and tossed it to the floor before getting onto the bed next to Peter.

He finished pulling the young man’s zipper down and helped him shimmy out of his jeans. Peter’s thighs were gorgeous, Tony was nearly drooling over them. But he couldn’t get distracted.

“May I?” He met the young man’s eyes, his fingers slipping into the waistband of his boxers.

Peter nodded, breathing hard as he laid back more.

Tony slowly pulled the piece of clothing down, biting his lip when he watched Peter’s cock drop against his hip once it was no longer covered. “So hard for me, honey. Look at that.”

The younger man blushed darker. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Tony….”

“God, me too. Me too, kid.” He pushed his own boxers off, unable to keep himself from wrapping one hand around himself and stroking slowly.

Peter watched him with wide eyes. “Okay. I want you inside me. Now.” He kicked his boxers away, grinning a little.

Tony laughed softly at his eagerness. “We have to get you ready first. Hold on, let me show you….”

Turns out that Peter was incredibly responsive to everything and by the time he was open enough for further activities Tony had already worked him through an orgasm.

If Peter was that responsive to just his fingers, he couldn’t wait to get his cock in him. And the young man was still raring to go.

Tony grabbed a condom - habit, it wasn’t like they were preventing anything - but Peter stopped him.

“Why can't we just do it…without?” He asked shyly.

“I mean…we can. But you’ll have to clean up and that can be annoying.”

“I want…I want to feel you. Is that okay?” Peter hid his face in his hands, embarrassed by the admission.

Tony nodded, biting back a smile. “Yeah. That’s okay.” He set the foil square down on the nightstand before moving back to the young man.

He got between his legs, hands sliding over the strong thighs he was met with. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, kid. I hope you know that.”

Peter smiled up at him, spreading his legs further. “Thank you, Tony….” He leaned back more, laying his head down. “Now hurry up,” he joked.

Grabbing the lube and slicking himself up, the older man shook his head. “Impatient,” Tony chided, laughing softly. But he was already moving to position his cock at the man’s hole, the tip brushing over him.

They both moaned softly, laughing a little at how in sync they were.

“Fuck me, Tony…please?”

The older man nodded, slowly pushing past the tight muscle with a groan. Even though he’d prepped him, Peter was still tight. Just perfectly so.

Peter was tightly gripping the sheets, popping a couple threads even, with the first movements.

It seemed like his effort was in vain, but he really wanted to try to last.

Tony bottomed out, hips pressed flush against Peter’s ass.

The younger man was whining low in his throat at the feeling. His cock twitched between them. He knew that if he was touched at all before he could calm down a little, everything would be over way before he wanted it to be.

“Need me to stay still?” Tony asked. He could tell that Peter was struggling.

He nodded quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes. Fuck.”

“Okay, honey. Don’t worry, we can take this at whatever pace you want.”

Peter nodded, trying to get a hold on how he was feeling.

It took him a couple minutes, but eventually he signaled Tony that he was okay. And he could start moving.

So he started slow, but Tony started thrusting when he was given the okay.

Peter moaned, mouth falling open around his noises.

He tightened around Tony’s cock, squeezing down with every movement. Then he cried out when a particularly deep thrust hit something that made him see stars.

“What was that?” Peter gasped, hips rocking up wildly.

Tony groaned, laughing a little through it. “I’m going to, fuck, I’m going to assume that was your prostate. Feels good, doesn’t it? I should have showed that to you when I was fingering you.”

“Do it again!”

The older man snorted, aiming for the same spot again as he picked up his pace. He held one of Peter’s legs, lifting it just enough so that he could get at a deeper angle. “I can try.”

From the increasingly louder noises he received, he assumed he succeeded.

He was so lost in the feeling of Peter that he missed how close to the edge his partner was getting. All that registered was how incredible (borderline painful) it felt when the younger man squeezed around him like that.

Then Peter was crying out louder and thrusting up as he spilled onto his stomach.

Tony swore under his breath. “God, Peter.” He watched him, subconsciously speeding up as he chased his own high.

“Tony!” Peter moaned, eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. It was the best orgasm he’d ever experienced, alone or otherwise.

But he slowly opened his eyes, wanting to watch Tony cum.

“I’m close too,” the older man moaned, speeding up again.

Peter moaned louder, feeling himself being pushed up the bed with the quicker pace. “Cum, Tony, please, want you to fill me up.”

He wasn’t so sure about dirty talk, but it could only be but so bad because Tony went still moments later. Peter felt the cock inside him pulse briefly before there was a smooth warmth spreading.

The thing itself felt odd, but thinking about what was happening almost made him cum again.

Actually-

His hand flew to his own dick and he quickly jerked himself off before he was cumming for a third time. It wasn’t nearly as good as the other two, but it was still incredible. Especially thinking about how good Tony still felt inside of him.

He opened his eyes when he heard Tony chuckling. “What?”

“You’re insatiable. And I’m amazed that you can just go again that fast.” The older man closed his eyes again, catching his breath.

He was almost in shock that it had actually happened. He had sex with Peter. After thinking about it for months, dreaming about it, it happened.

He slowly pulled out, laying next to the young man. He knew they were both messes, covered in sweat and cum and lube, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to hold Peter close before they had to go back to real life.

Tony gently wrapped his arms around him, just gathering him close while he pressed a kiss to the man’s temple.

He found out quickly that Peter’s dazed, relaxed post-sex state would only last for so long.

It was only minutes before the man was talking, whispering about anything and everything. And Tony happily listened.

He hummed softly, holding the younger man close to his chest. One hand gently carded through Peter’s soft curls as they talked quietly.

“My mom met you one time,” Peter murmured. “Before I was born. But she would never tell me about it. Just told me that it happened.”

Tony snorted softly. “Yeah, well, about when would that have been? I had a reputation for a reason.” But the confession started pulling at a memory. It couldn’t quite come to light, though.

“Ew.” The young man grinned at him. “But I guess you’re right. I don’t know, she was kinda weird about a lot of stuff. Not just that.”

“What do you mean?”

Peter sighed softly and Tony frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But Peter started answering anyway.

“I don’t know who my actual dad is. She never told me. I vaguely remember her telling me that Richard was the only dad I needed, but nothing else.”

“You would have been so young,” Tony whispered. “Maybe she just figured it could be a conversation for another time.”

“But she wouldn’t tell anyone else. My aunt and uncle knew that Richard wasn’t actually my dad, but they were never told who was. And I guess it just…died with her.”

The older man nodded. “You could always do a paternity test, right?” Why was guilt pooling in his stomach?

Peter shrugged. “That’s assuming that my dad has done one too that we could match. And sometimes….” He trailed off.

“Sometimes what?” Tony kissed him gently, trying to soothe him.

“Sometimes I’m not sure that I want to know,” he confessed.

It made sense. But something was still trying to pull at Tony’s memory. Forming an idea slowly.

Although he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answers.

But he couldn’t just leave a question unasked. No matter how dark the potential answer.

“Peter…when did you say that your mom met me?”

The young man snuggled into him more, shaking his head. “I didn’t. I think it was…the year before I was born or so. Why? Do you remember?”

Tony tried to mentally do the numbers. He’d spent most of that year in a fog, but that had been the theme of that era in his life. But maybe…

“Are you okay?”

The older man closed his eyes, frowning as he tried to remember.

Parker. Had he been with a Parker? He couldn’t remember the occasion at all.

Maybe that was for the best.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay, was just trying to see if I remembered her. I’m sorry.”

Peter leaned up to kiss him gently, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not a big deal, really. Sometimes I just wonder about that stuff.”

Tony tried to assure himself that it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it was best to not have all the answers.

He had what he wanted. That was all that mattered.

[arvinsescape]

Pregnancy Support.

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while since I posted! I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: None, i don’t think.

W/C: 1.4K

You were due in six weeks and you couldn’t be more excited. You were excited to meet your baby but you were also excited to be able to sleep comfortably, walk comfortably, just do anything comfortably. Tom was due back from filming in the next week, he’d been unable to get out of it and had to work hard and to a tight schedule so that he could get himself home to you.

It hadn’t been all bad, you missed him, massively, and you wished he could be here but you understood that this was part of his job. You’d been left under the supervision of the boys and you’d gotten somewhat of a routine going that helped you through the late stages of your pregnancy, each of the boys played a different role in catering to your wants and needs.

Sam made you whatever combination of food you needed and craved and always managed to make it tastes utterly amazing, Harry was there to help you eat it all, he tried all of your strange food combinations and was always there at half four in the morning to eat with you. Harrison and Tuwaine became your source of comfort, helping you get around the house and helping you out with all your pregnancy issues, like not being able to reach things or carry things. So to say you had a routine going was an understatement.

When Tom returned home he didn’t really know how to fit into that routine, you all seemed to have it down quite well. It wasn’t that you excluded him in any way you were all just so used to the way daily life was now. Tom was somewhat taken aback when he’d returned home and you’d cried because you were so happy to see him, sure you’d gotten emotional when he’d been away for a while but never had you almost broken down with happy tears.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked as he stroked through your hair, you were crying into his chest, almost uncontrollably.

“Yeah, just happy to see you.” You said as you clung to him like he’d disappear in an instant, amused look on Harrisons face.

“She okay?” Tom asked his best friend, wondering if there was any reason to be more concerned for his fiancée.

“Yeah, daily routine this. She has a good cry and then an hour later behaves like it never happened.” Harrison laughed. “Hormones are everywhere, have been for a good month.”

“She’s definitely okay though?”

“Yeah.”

Tom watched as you waddled towards the couch and before he could act Tuwaine had appeared to hold your hand make sure you made it safely onto the cushions. Tom raised his brows at how effortless it all seemed. You thanked Tuwaine and he smiled before disappearing into the kitchen, passing Harrison on his way in, Harrison had a cup in hand.

“Your 4 o clock green tea.” Harrison said as he handed you the cup to which you gladly accepted.

“Thanks Harrison.” You smiled as you blew the top of the cup. Tom couldn’t help but smile at the level of attention the boys had paid to your needs.

“And what are we eating today?” Harry asked as he sat down on the couch next to Tom.

“I don’t know, I’m fancying something really greasy like fried chicken.” You mumbled.

“Something relatively normal, I like it.” Harry joked. “Maybe we could give Sam a break and go to KFC, Tom you gonna come?” Harry turned his attention to his brother.

“Sure.” Tom said as he turned his attention to you. “Do you need anything else?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No thank you.” You smiled as you sipped your tea. “Wait actually could you pass me the remote?” You changed your mind and Tom smiled as he handed you the remote, it felt like the first helpful thing he’d done since he got back.

You mindlessly watched TV for the next hour and a half, cuddled up the best way you could be with a bump in the way. Harry came in shaking his keys, excited look on his face.

“Come on let’s go. I haven’t had a KFC for months.” He said excitedly as he held his hand out to you. Tom was happy for his brother’s and friends involvement but he was starting to feel a little useless and couldn’t help himself as he stood and spoke.

“It’s all good bro, I got her.” He said as he took your hand in his, Harry shrugging before disappearing towards the door. Tom helped you get up, placing a kiss to your head once he was successful.

**

This continued on for a good week or so, Tom just wasn’t fast enough for the boys, every time he decided he’d be the one to help one of the other boys had already done it. The only thing he has managed to take over on was the foot rubs you’d usually receive from Tuwaine.

“Mate, Can I talk to you?” Tom asked Harrison as he watched him brew your herbal tea.

“Absolutely you can.” Harrison mindlessly answered.

“I feel a little, I don’t know useless.” Tom sighed in defeat, Harrison turned to look at him, furrowed brows.

“What do you mean mate?”

“Well with Y/N/N. I just feel like you guys have a routine and I don’t really know where I fit into that.” Tom admitted and Harrison smiled.

“You’re doing more for her than you think.” Haz said comfortingly.

“How’d you mean?” Tom asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“She doesn’t cry as much for one.” Haz grinned.

“She cries a lot.” Tom said matter of factly, the memory of a few hours ago filling his mind, you’d watched a kitten get rescued on a facebook video and gotten emotional.

“Not like she did, some days it wouldn’t matter what we did, she just wanted you and you’re here now.” Harrison comforted. “Listen,” Harrison sighed, “you help her in ways we can’t and haven’t been able to. So what we run around after her? You offer her emotional support that she needs. We don’t mind running around after her, running around after both of you now that you’re here. Anything to make this easier.” Harrison said as he placed a comforting hand on Tom’s shoulder and Tom felt himself relax.

“I guess I never thought about it like that.” Tom admitted and Haz smiled as he passed Tom your cup of tea.

“Give her this. Don’t beat yourself up. You’ve got this. Just think in a few weeks it’s gonna be your hand she’s practically breaking, you that’s gonna be there for her and none of this will matter.”

Tom smiled as he took in his friends words, he was right, Tom offered you something that none of the other boys could.

“It does matter, all of this does. You have no idea how grateful I am that you guys have done this for her.”

“You know what I mean.” Haz laughed and Tom joined. “Now go, her tea is now almost ten minutes late, get your skates on or we’re both gonna get our heads ripped off.” That made Tom laugh harder as he thought about your short fuse these days.

“Thank you.” Tom said as he made his way out of the kitchen, your tea in hand, he smiled as he took in your expression, you looked so content and happy. “I’m sorry baby, I was talking to Haz.”  He handed you your tea and you smiled wider.

“Thank you, I love you so much.” You beamed and Tom smiled as he sat next to you, kissing your cheek.

“I’m tired.” You grumbled and he laughed.

“Want me to take you upstairs to bed?” He asked and you shook your head as you practically face planted his chest, Tom grasping the tea before it went all over the two of you. He put the tea to one side as he wrapped his arms around you as you snuggled further into his chest. He smiled as he watched you sleep, thinking about your little family and the support you’d both get from the people around you.

[favefandomimagines]

Why? (t.h.)

Summary: you and tom broke up at the young age of 21, after the success of Captain America: Civil War. now 3 years later, you run into him again with your three year old son

AN: more angst than fluff that’s for sure and here’s a twist: Evans!Reader (i’m also really bad a writing how toddlers sound so use your imagination)

When you imagined having a baby, you thought of the basic evolution of adulthood. Meet, marriage, then kids. Not meet, date for a year and a half, then baby. A baby who you were currently raising on your own. 

The breakup between you and Tom was the opposite of mutual. You didn’t want it. You wanted to be with him even before you got pregnant. But he wanted other things. 

He wanted other people. And that’s the part that broke your heart. 

“I don’t understand. You have never mentioned this before.” You said to him. “Y/N, it’s not you, okay? It’s just, we’re young. We’re 21 years old, our careers are just taking off. Don’t you want to be free?” Tom explained. 

“Free? You think I’m tying you down?” You questioned. “That’s not what I said.” Tom rebutted. “That’s exactly what you said! You think being in a relationship with me is tying you down. Well, fine Tom. If this is what you want, this is what you’ll get.” You snapped. 

You began to pack up everything you could fit in your small, weekender bag. “I’m going home and I never want to speak to you again.” You sneered. “No, Y/N, don’t do this. We can still be friends.” He told you. “No we can’t. Because I can’t be the friend who’s hopelessly in love with a guy who doesn’t love her back.” You said. 

“I do love you-” He started before you cut him off. “Don’t lie to make yourself feel better.” You sneered. You walked to the door of the hotel you were staying in and slammed it shut. 

You were a mess after the breakup. Physically ill is how you described it to people. You never left your room most days and when you did, you glued yourself to the couch. You lived off of Ben and Jerry’s and The Notebook.

Your friends tried to get you out of your apartment. But you didn’t feel like going out and facing the paparazzi. Especially when every time you stood up, you felt sick to your stomach. 

Even your older brother stayed with you most days. He didn’t want you to be alone. 

That’s when your friend suggested something. “When did you get your period?” She asked you. When she asked, you couldn’t remember when. You chalked it being late up to the stress you were feeling because of Tom and being cast in a new TV show. 

But, your friend bought you the test anyways. And it was positive. Your world was crumbling around you and now you had to fend for a baby. Tom told you he wasn’t going to leave you so you didn’t use a condom. And you couldn’t be on birth control because of underlying health issues you had. 

You were pregnant and you were going to have to raise a child by yourself. But your family was there through it all. Chris came to every doctor’s appointment with you, already earning the title of ‘world’s best uncle.’ 

You were about four months along when Kevin Feige called you about shooting an end credit scene for Spider-Man: Homecoming. How were you going to hide a baby bump from the cast and crew? But the only person you needed to keep it from was Tom. He didn’t want you so why should he be apart of the baby’s life? You would ask yourself that simply out of anger. There was no logical reasoning behind it. 

You shot the scene while pregnant and quickly left Atlanta before anyone began asking any questions. The main one being: who’s the dad? 

The night you gave birth, your entire family was at your side. Throughout the entire 20 hour labor before you welcomed a baby boy into the world. Theodore Evans-Holland was the newest member of the family. But Holland was only on the birth certificate. 

__

Three years had passed since you gave birth to Theo and when they said being a working mother was hard, they weren’t lying. Word spread that you got pregnant but the identity of the father unknown by the public. Including Tom. When asked about Theo in interviews you say it was a one night stand with a friend and that you weren’t together romantically. No one questioned a thing. 

On the set of Infinity War and Endgame, your mom brought Theo to visit often. He got to see his mom and his uncle Chris be superheroes.

“And cut! Let’s take a quick break! Y/N needs to go be a mom.” Anthony Russo joked. You smiled brightly at the three year old who was sitting on your makeup artist’s lap. 

You picked him and placed sloppy kisses all over his face, making the little boy laugh. “Are you having fun?” You asked him. “Yes!” He replied loudly. “Uncle Chwis!” Theo yelled, pointing to his uncle across the set. You couldn’t say no to him so you brought him to his uncle who was talking to Chris and Robert. 

Tom watched as you brought your child over to the three men. He didn’t know you moved on so quick. But he didn’t have a right to be mad. He broke up with you, not the other way around. Though a part of him couldn’t help but wish it was his son. 

You and Theo had decided to have a fun day since it was relatively nice in LA. You took him to the zoo and the aquarium before stopping at the Starbucks close to your house as a nice treat. 

Theo was a big fan of their frappucinos. 

You were holding him as he was beginning to get a little bit fussy after such a long day. 

“Y/N?” You heard from behind you. You turned around and saw Tom in the line behind you waiting for his name to be called. “Oh, uh, hi Tom.” You greeted him. “How are you?” He asked. “I’m fine. Just waiting on our order.” You answered. 

“Mommy, that’s spider-man.” Theo whispered to you. “Yes, baby, that is spider-man.” You spoke to him. “Hey little man.” Tom greeted the young boy. “You two have the cutest son. He looks just like his dad.” An older lady commented on the two of you. 

“No, he’s uh, not mine.” Tom quickly corrected her. The lady looked from you back to Tom before giving a pretty fake smile. “We, uh, we have to go. Theo needs a nap.” You said quickly, grabbing your drinks and making your way towards the exit. 

“Y/N, wait!” Tom called. You stopped a turned around to look at him. You and Tom looked at one another for a few moments before he looked at Theo. You could see he was doing the math in his head and analyzing Theo’s facial features. 

It was true though. He did look just like his dad. Same hair, same eyes, he had your nose though. 

“See you around, Tom.” You said breaking the silence before walking back towards your car. 

__

Later that evening, you were sitting on the couch with Theo watching Captain America. It was his favorite movie at the moment because he got to watch uncle Chris be a superhero. 

You were alerted by the sound of the doorbell and wondered who would be at your door at such an odd hour. “Stay here, buddy.” You told your son as you got up to answer the door. 

And when you did, you were very tempted to close it right in his face. Because Tom was standing on your doorstep looking completely distraught. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “He’s mine, isn’t he? Theo’s my son.” He said. You were quiet for a moment before you stepped out on to the porch so Theo wouldn’t hear. 

“Yes. Theo is your’s.” You answered quietly. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tom asked, the anger in his voice very evident. “Because, Tom, you didn’t want me anymore! A kid wasn’t going to change that! It would tie you down even more than I did.” You replied. “I had a right to know. I’m his father.” He said. 

You ran a hand through her hair as you squeezed your eyes shut trying to make the tears go away. 

“You didn’t want me, Tom. You didn’t want to be with me and a kid wasn’t going to magically fix that. Who’s to say you were going to want to be apart of his life if I told you? Like you said that night, we were 21, our careers taking off. I gave you the freedom you asked for.” You spoke. 

“I messed up, okay? I knew that the second I woke up the next morning and you weren’t there next to me. It was stupid of me to even think that. We could’ve been regular 21 year-olds together.” Tom said. “But at the time, you meant it.” You said. 

The silence that fell upon the two of you was awkward and uncomfortable. The only sound coming from the TV inside seeping through the cracked front door. 

“I need to know him. I know I hurt you and it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. But I need to know my son, Y/N.” Tom begged. 

You looked at the man in front of you and didn’t see who you were in a relationship with three years ago. Maybe because he’s had to grow up faster than the usual person. Or maybe because you had to grow up faster and raise a child. 

“You can meet him. But we need to take this very slow. Theo is my entire world and I will not have him end up heartbroken like I was.” You finally spoke. 

Tom’s eyes lit up at your words and he rapidly nodded his head. You slowly let him into the house, Theo entirely unaware that anything was happening. 

“Hey, bud. There’s someone I want you to meet.” You said to the small boy. You sat down next to him, him taking the liberty of crawling onto your lap. 

He stared at Tom warily, wondering why a stranger was in his house. He knew. that he was spider-man but to him spider-man was a stranger. 

“Theo, you know how I told you that daddy was an astronaut exploring space?” You questioned. Theo nodded his head looking up at you. “Well, he’s back from space now. Theo, I want you to meet your dad.” You told him. 

The brunette boy looked from you up to Tom. “My daddy’s spider-man?” Theo questioned. “Yes, your daddy is spider-man.” You confirmed. “That’s why he was in outer space! Helping Iron Man!” Theo shouted. “That’s right bud. I was gone for a while, but I’m here now.” Tom finally spoke. 

Theo left your lap and launched himself at Tom. You didn’t know you would feel so emotional when Theo finally met Tom as his father. You just thought it wouldn’t be until he was older so you weren’t prepared for it. 

“Are you staying, daddy?” Theo asked the man. Tom felt like all of the oxygen was knocked out of his body when Theo called him that. 

He looked over at you and you reluctantly nodded your head. “Yeah, buddy. I’m staying.” He answered. Theo jumped up and down on the couch before you scolded him. 

“Hey, hey, we don’t jump on couches anymore, remember? Besides, it’s past your bedtime.” You told him. “I wanna show daddy my room.” Theo. “He can put you to bed. Now go get your PJs.” You said. 

Theo got off the couch and ran down the hallway towards his room. “He’s going to want to show you all of his Marvel stuff but only for five minutes. After that, tuck him in with his Black Panther stuffie. Then you have to read him a story or he’ll never fall asleep.” You explained to Tom as you stood up. 

“You did a really good job with him.” Tom commented. “I know.” You smiled fondly. “I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me too.” He said. “You’ll sleep in the spare room. He wants you in his life so you have to be here. And tomorrow, we’ll go get Tessa.” You told him. 

Tom smiled at you as you retreated to the kitchen to pick up a bit before bed. Tom walked down the hallway towards Theo’s room and found him all tucked in bed with various pieces fo Marvel collectibles. 

“Daddy, daddy! Come look at the things mommy and Uncle Chwis got for me!” He said to Tom. Tom happily obliged and sat on the edge of the bed as Theo began to explain what everything was. 

You leaned against the doorframe and observed the two together for a short while. You had a lot of healing to do with Tom but you couldn’t deny the fact that Theo needed his dad, despite Tom’s past mistakes. 

[vrishchikawrites]

Anon asks - There was another idea I had seen on @crossdressingdeath's tumblr where JC's reputation was ruined because of his behaviour and WWX's attempts to protect him from the consequences of his behaviour. The concept happens pre Qiongqi Path where JC attacks WWX to the point it injures and frightens him. A passerby sees WWX startled and asks him what's wrong but WWX dismisses it as nothing. Said bystander ends up thinking that JC had sexually assaulted him resulting in the cultivation world gossiping about JC being a rapist when really he isn't. Overall, the cultivation world gossips about the other shitty things JC had done and because he did alot of pretty bad things, he can't defend himself and resorts to victim blaming WWX. That however only has him dig a deeper hole for himself. WWX, on the other hand is left confused as to why everybody was pitying him all of a sudden when they used to hate and/or fear him. By the time the truth comes to light, the cultivation world thinks JC had deserved it anyway with it ending with JC hated just for him being himself and public opinion on WWX flipping. If you don't mind, can you make it light-hearted?

(Probably not as light-hearted as you would wish. It is a bit complicated. Be a little gentle because I wrote this twice and ended up fleshing it out much more. Is this a short prompt or a long one? who knows. writer is tired. she will sleep now.)

Everyone has personal boundaries, even people who are usually tactile and social. Boundaries exist even between family members who love and trust each other.

Wei Wuxian is a veteran fresh from war. He has survived bloody battlefields, spent days dealing with one hostile enemy after another. Even before that, he had spent his days constantly battling resentful ghosts and monsters in a place he can’t bear thinking of now. Before that, he had survived torture at the hands of the Wens. And before-

Better not to think about it.

So, when Jiang Cheng presses up against him threateningly, his face twisted and eyes furious, Wei Wuxian can’t help but flinch. He takes a step back and puts some distance between them quickly. Jiang Cheng has grown increasingly bitter and discontent in these past few months and Wei Wuxian is getting tired of dealing with it. He doesn’t want to be in such close proximity with a man seething with fury.

Unfortunately, that reaction proves to be a mistake because Jiang Cheng follows him, “What? Are you too big for us now? Turning away from me in disgust now that you’re a war hero and the best of us?” Jiang Cheng is so close, their noses almost touch and Wei Wuxian feels his hair stand on end in response.

“Jiang Cheng,” He says lowly, something unsettling stirring in his chest. He feels almost anxious. His heart is racing and the proximity makes him feel like he’s trapped, “Back away.”

“Back away?” Jiang Cheng snarls, “Who are you to command me, Wei Wuxian? Do you know what people are saying about YunmengJiang? Do you know who-”

“Back away,” Wei Wuxian says tightly, his skin crawling, “Now.” His hard-earned instincts are sounding alarms. He feels threatened and provoked. He feels the resentful energy in him respond to the danger.

“What are you going to do? Send a few ghosts at me?” He sneers, “Try it! We’ll see how brave you are under the wrath of my Zidian.”

No. Wei Wuxian isn’t going to just stand here and let Jiang Cheng pick up Yu-furen’s habits, He’s just about to react, to give Jiang Cheng the thrashing he clearly desires when he realizes they are outside. He glances beyond his Sect Leader’s shoulder and sees a small group of three clad in bright white looking at them with wide eyes.

He bites back his angry retort and masters himself. He’s not going to squabble with Jiang Cheng in front of Lan disciples. His relationship with Lan Zhan is strained as it is.

“We’re in public,” He says, hoping that concern for his Sect’s reputation would move Jiang Cheng if concern for Wei Wuxian doesn’t.

Jiang Cheng looks over his shoulder and sneers at the Lan disciples before rolling his head, “Lans, of course.” He snarls and pushes Wei Wuxian away roughly, “I’ll deal with you later.”

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath and watches his brother leave.

The Lan disciples are still looking at him with heartwarming concern. He waves at them with a smile and watches as they start like little ducklings and bow to him before fleeing.

Cute.

---

“We have to do something!” Lan Zhanxiao insists, “Did you see how he looked? Wei Wuxian was clearly trying to-”

“Shh! Keep your voice down!” Lan Lishan reprimands.

“Don’t say his name!” Lan Guan whispers urgently, looking around in a panic. There are already a few curious and interested eyes glancing in their direction. Wei Wuxian is a notorious name, after all. Even non-cultivators are interested in the man who had just a material impact on the war. It is hard to tell if they would’ve won without that powerful unorthodox cultivator on their side.

“We can’t just stand by and do nothing,” Lan Zhanxiao, always the righteous one, continues. He doesn’t care about the people around them, “If Wei Wuxian is hurt and we do nothing to prevent it, aren’t we culpable as well?”

“This is Wei Wuxian. Who would dare?” Lan Guan asks incredulously, “He is one of the most powerful cultivators in existence.”

“Is he?” Zhanxiao demands, “Doesn’t everyone know he’s very loyal to Jiang-zongzhu? Would he take a step against him? Even if it meant saving himself?”

“He should be building his own sect,” Lan Lishan says reluctantly, “He’s the Grandmaster of his cultivation form. It may be an unorthodox method, but it is still something new and entirely unique.” He would know. Lan Lishan is an avid student of history and cultivation theory. He knows that most cultivators with unique abilities tend to form their own sect to pass their teachings down.

He shudders at the prospect of cultivating resentful energy but Wei Wuxian has mentioned it is a technique people with absent or damaged Golden Cores can use.

The potential is almost limitless.

“See what I mean?” Lan Zhanxiao points out, “Hasn’t he been isolated from other cultivators because they fear his methods? If Jiang-zongzhu is really hurting him or…” He grimaces and lowers his voice, “That expression, Shan-ge, it reminds me of jiejie. What if Jiang-zongzhu is… doing something inappropriate?”

They all exchange alarmed glances, “You don’t think…?” Lan Guan breathes, horrified.

“He was scrambling to get away,” Lan Zhanxiao says, “And Jiang-zongzhu kept pressing-”

“We can’t talk about this here,” Lan Lishan says firmly, “Come, let’s leave.”

Unfortunately, they leave chaos behind.

---

Rumors are a powerful entity in the cultivation world. They are born in tea and wine houses, spread from one tradesman to another and spread to the far reaches of cultivation society in a matter of months.

The rumors about Jiang’ Wanyin’s treatment of a war hero are no exception to this rule. People gossip about it with their friends and neighbors, share the news with vendors while on errands, and the rumors continue to grow. With every retelling, the story changes, growing increasingly distorted and vile.

“The entire business is unpleasant,” A small clan cultivator says to one of his tradesman friends, “Jealousy really alters a man.” He speaks about old rumors then, speculations about Wei Wuxian’s parentage, Madam Yu’s wrath, and the Jiang heir’s relatively lackluster growth in comparison to his prodigious shixiong.

“Surely not,” Another cultivator scoffs, “Who would dare raise a hand against Wei Wuxian? Did he not decimate a large Wen battalion with just his flute and some music?”

“Merchants at Lotus Pier say Wei Wuxian always looks wan and tired these days. He has grown pale.” One woman whispers to her companion, “He spends more time in wine houses with ghost maidens than in the comfort of his rebuilt home.”

“It seems so improbable!” A young cultivator protests, “Why would Jiang-zongzhu provoke the sleeping dragon like this? Wei Wuxian is stable now but who knows when he will give into resentment?”

“Lan disciples saw it.”

And that’s the crux of the matter. If the rumor didn’t originate from Lan disciples, it might not have traveled so far. Lans are known for their honest and forthright nature, after all. What cause did they have to lie? And no Lan spoke carelessly, so their words must be the whole truth, without any exaggeration.

Because Lans are the source, everything they say is taken as fact. If one Lan disciple finds Jiang-zongzhu’s behavior horribly inappropriate then it must be. If another Lan is worried about Wei Wuxian’s safety, there must be a just cause.

The rumors spread and propagate, and soon almost the entirety of the cultivation world is aware of them.

---

Gossip is forbidden at Cloud Recesses. Disciples are usually discouraged from meddling in other sect business. Rumor-mongering is punished severely, with all parties involved facing the wrath of the disciple whip.

But Lans are raised to be righteous and compassionate. If someone is in trouble, a Lan must act. He must offer a helping hand and take the victim away from danger.

When the rumors reach Caiyi Town and land on the ear of one Lan Ruyao, he hesitates. He asks around, gets more information, and then rushes back to Cloud Recesses, intent on knowing it all.

Lan Ruyao seeks the three disciples that are the cause of it all and demands an explanation, his mind disturbed with worry. What he hears gives him no comfort for he cannot discard their concerns. The behavior they describe is alarming and their observations are precise, without any emotion clouding their judgment.

Lan Lishan narrates the incident in detail, describing every action with no embellishment or exaggeration. He speaks of Wei Wuxian’s retreat, of Jiang Wanyin’s insistence, the threat of whipping, and words spoken with cruelty and disrespect.

Lan Ruyao’s mind is disturbed as he retreats, absentmindedly assigning some lines to the junior disciples. They have erred by being so indiscreet but their cause is righteous. They don’t deserve severe punishment.

He meditates on the matter for an entire morning, trying to decide on a course of action.

You see, Lan Ruyao is Lan Wangji’s peer. He has known the Second Jade for many years, and while they are not close, they are of the same clan. The entire cultivation world may believe Lan Wangji hates Wei Wuxian, but Ruyao knows better. The Second Jade wouldn’t have been so insistent on bringing Wei Wuxian to Gusu if he didn’t care.

Lan Ruyao suspects both of them hold each other in some esteem. They have saved each other’s sides many times and seem to get along well when they’re not quarreling. He believes that they are friends.

It would be unwise to keep this from Lan Wangji.

Decision made, he quickly requests a private meeting with the Second Jade. The request is granted promptly and soon Lan Ruyao finds himself before his peer, readying himself for a difficult conversation.

The Second Jade listens to his piece without any interruption, his expression blank and beautiful as white jade. But his golden eyes are twin chips of flint, coldly furious.

Indeed, they are friends.

Lan Wangji summons the three junior disciples and questions them thoroughly. His demeanor becomes frostier as the interview progresses, his spiritual energy gaining a deadly edge when the juniors murmur of ‘inappropriate behavior.’

“You have my gratitude,” Lan Wangji says finally, bowing to him and nodding to the juniors, “Rest assured, I will address the matter directly.”

---

“Lan Zhan, wait!” Wei Wuxian protests as Lan Zhan drags him away by the elbow, his uncharacteristic behavior taking him by surprise, “Don’t take him so seriously, Lan Zhan! You know he’s a temperamental brat.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t say anything until they are a fair distance away from Jiang Cheng and the Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian tries to get an explanation for such unusual behavior but his companion is entirely silent, guiding him towards a crop of trees that offer some semblance of privacy.

“How long have you borne this?” Lan Zhan asks once they stop walking, his golden eyes bright and fierce, “How long have you endured without speaking a word to me or your friends?”

“All my life,” He rolls his eyes, “You know Jiang Cheng has a temper and says careless things, Lan Zhan. Don’t worry, I know how to handle him.”

“All your life?” Somehow, Lan Zhan seems stricken, “Wei Ying!”

“Aiya, Lan Zhan,” Honestly, he is moved by Lan Zhan’s concern for him. They have spent so many years just quarreling and being distrustful towards each other. The concern is a pleasant distraction from the wretched state of their relationship, “Don’t worry about it. I can deal with everything Jiang Cheng throws at me.”

“How can you be so callous about your own well-being?” Lan Zhan asks, his tone betraying his dismay, “Do you not care-” He visibly bites back those angry words and calms himself, his voice taking on a gentler note, “Did you think I would not help? That your friends wouldn’t offer you shelter or protection?”

Really, this is a bit of an overreaction, isn’t it?

“Do I really have any friends left, Lan Zhan?” He asks casually but the reaction he receives is anything but casual. Lan Zhan’s eyes widen as though he has been struck, “Aiya, please don’t look like that,” Wei Wuxian feels a stir of panic because Lan Zhan looks almost hurt, “I’m just being a brat.”

“Have a care,” Lan Zhan says, “Your dismissal of this matter doesn’t put me at ease.”

“Lan Zhan,” He sighs, “I’m used to it. You saw how we were at Cloud Recesses. Did I look unusually troubled then?”

“You’ve become… accustomed to it?” Lan Zhan asks, once again looking uncharacteristically stricken. Wei Wuxian feels a stir of concern in his stomach and reaches out, placing a hand on the Second Jade’s arm, “You’re accustomed to it.”

Not knowing what to do in response to such open emotion from Lan Zhan, he looks for something to distract him. Immediately, his mind remembers an old promise, “Let’s focus on something more pleasant. It’s about time you saw Lotus Pier in its full glory, Lan Zhan! I want to show you all of my favorite places, including all of the trees I climbed!”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan’s voice is low and pained.

Wei Wuxian’s smile softens as he tugs on the Second Jade’s arm, “Don’t think of unpleasant things, Lan Zhan. It’s a beautiful day and we haven’t seen each other in months! Let’s be happy, alright?”

Wei Wuxian feels a jolt of surprise as Lan Zhan raises a hand and covers his fingers, squeezing gently. The touch is warm and reassuring, and it sets Wei his heart racing.

Lan Zhan studies him for a long moment before dipping his head elegantly, his grip on Wei Wuxian’s fingers still firm and steady, “If Wei Ying wishes it,” He promises, “I will make it so.”

Oh.

---

It all comes to a head at the Discussion Conference. Wei Wuxian is accustomed to being the center of attention these days but the quality of that attention is different now. Instead of wary glances, he sees eyes filled with sympathy and tentative smiles of welcome.

Wei Wuxian being Wei Wuxian, ignores the nagging suspicion that lingers at the back of his mind and smiles brightly back at them.

That seems to make things worse because the looks of sympathy seem to somehow intensify. He even sees a few women blink their limpid eyes and turn away, as though disguising tears. Somewhat alarmed, he glances at Jiang Cheng and winces.

His martial brother is bristling with anger. There’s a thundercloud-like expression on his face as he meets every eye in the room with a clear challenge.

If glances towards him are filled with sympathy, those towards Jiang Cheng are filled with contempt and disapproval. Between that and Lan Zhan’s protective hovering, Wei Wuxian is at the end of his patience.

He needs answers and he needs them now before the situation can escalate somehow.

Baffled by the situation, Wei Wuxian looks around and finds the most reliable source of gossip he can find. “What is going on?” He demands as soon as he is at Nie Huiasang’s side, “Why are people glaring at Jiang Cheng like he’s a fierce corpse?”

Nie Huaisang waves his fan, his expression a strange mix of amusement and grim satisfaction. For one, his old friend doesn’t hide behind his usual prevarications. He glances around the room and seems to catch someone’s eye. Wei Wuxian follows that gaze only to blink as Lan Zhan walks sedately towards them, expression stern and disapproving, “Do you know what’s going on, Lan Zhan?”

The Second Jade remains silent, his eyes fixed on Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian sighs in frustration and glares at Nie Huaisang, “Nie-xiong, what?”

His curt tone is enough to snape Nie Huaisang out of his musings. The man smiles wryly behind his fan, “Ah, Wei-xiong,” He waves his free hand, “There has been some speculation about your relationship with-”

“Why don’t you speak up?” A loud voice asks and Wei Wuxian turns around, “Why don’t you defend Wei Wuxian, Jiang-zongzhu? You’re going to let people slander your loyal Head Disciple so boldly?”

It’s Wang Jin, the Sect Leader of Runan Wang Clan. The man’s face is twisted in rage and disgust as he stares at Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian frowns, ready to step forward and stand by Jiang Cheng in such a hostile environment.

Lan Zhan’s hand on his arm stops him.

He looks at the Second Jade questioningly but the man just shakes his head, “Wait.”

“Why should he defend him?” An annoying Jin pipes up, his voice sharp and mocking, “We know what Wei Wuxian is! He may pretend to be loyal on the surface, but he is nothing but a faithless dog-”

“Jin Zixun!” Nie Mingjue snaps, “I will not have you insult one of our men in my presence! He fought and bled on our side.”

Nie Mingjue’s words silence him and Jin Guangyao speaks up soothingly as Wei Wuxian frowns, studying the scene with keen eyes, “Let us all calm down. I’m sure Wang-zongzhu means well.” He smiles placidly, “There have been rumors, just a bit of gossip about Wei-gongzi speaking ill of Jiang-zongzhu.” Wei Wuxian tilts his head to the side, mind whirling.

He refuses to be angry. There’s something about this situation that has his instincts rattled. He needs to focus.

“The Hanguang-jin himself said they were lies. Wei Wuxian has never spoken ill of Jiang Wanyin!” Well, that’s not entirely true. He is certain he has called Jiang Cheng a temperamental brat in Lan Zhan’s presence more than once. “Jiang-zongzhu should know better than to-”

“Why does Jiang-zongzhu need to do anything for that man?” Jin Zixun demands and Wei Wuxian feels a stir of amusement. All of this drama on his account? He’s honored.

“What kind of Sect Leader is he?” Wang-zongzhu asks, fuming, “If he doesn’t even defend his own Head Disciple? Has he not brought glory to YungmengJiang? Doesn’t the Sect owe him a debt of gratitude?” Wei Wuxian winces and Jiang Cheng’s expression turns stony, “If you want to talk of rumors, why not discuss the other rumors?” Wang-zongzhu turns to Jiang Cheng with a scowl, “Is he not your brother in all but blood? Didn’t the former Jiang-zongzhu raise Wei Wuxian as his nephew? Is this how YunmengJiang treats its brightest disciple? How will you face Jiang Fengmian, Jiang-zongzhu?”

Wei Wuxian bites back a groan as Jiang Cheng’s expression darkens with fury. This is the absolute worst thing to say to his martial brother.

“Why is he so concerned about this?” Wei Wuxian asks, almost to himself.

Nie Huiasang leans in and whispers in his ear, “His sisters were… assaulted by the Wens.”

Wei Wuxian feels a shudder crawl down his spine and shakes his head. Those disgusting wretches deserved the death he inflicted on them.

He still doesn’t understand what this has to do with him.

He glances at Lan Zhan, he is looking at the scene with his usual frosty expression, giving nothing away. He looks ahead to see Jiang Cheng ready to erupt and frowns. “Lan Zhan, I need to… help, somehow.”

“Wei Ying needs to do nothing.”

He’s about to protest when Jiang Cheng finally snaps, “Glory to YunmengJiang? He has brought nothing but devastation to it!” Wei Wuxian flinches and Lan Zhan steps forward and to the side, pointedly placing himself between the two Jiang Sect cultivators, “YunmengJiang has always been glorious. My ancestors bled and fought for it! We earned our glory through centuries of cultivation and diligence! I owe him a debt? Wei Wuxian owes me the lives of my parents! He provoked the Wens to save Lan Wangji’s life and I lost my family because of it!”

“Jiang-zongzhu, perhaps-”

“Shut up!” Jiang Cheng interrupted Jin Guangyao, “How I treat my Head Disciple is none of your business.”

“It is very much our business if you’re abusing him,” Nie Mingjue says and it silences everyone.

Wei Wuxian is… dumbfounded. He feels like he’s just a mass of confusion at this point because nothing about this situation makes sense. “Abuse?” He whispers harshly to Nie Huaisang, grabbing his arm to drag him away to a quieter corner, “Nie Huaisang, what is going on? Jiang Cheng doesn’t abuse me!”

“Does he not?” It is Lan Zhan who speaks, his expression solemn, “Truly, Wei Ying? Does he not abuse you?”

“Of course, not-”

“So he didn’t threaten you with Zidian?” Nie Huaisang asks, “Or try to physically intimidate you while you were clearly trying to step away?”

Wei Wuxian frowns, “Well yes, but that is just him being angry! He does that all the time.”

“That is no comfort to us.” Lan Zhan says stiffly.

“Didn’t he push you away several times? We have accounts from people who saw you fall to the ground.” Nie Huaisang’s expression is unusually stern, “Didn’t he seek to isolate you from everyone? Didn’t he keep telling you Wangji-xiong hated you?”

“Wangji-xiong gave every impression of hating me.” Wei Wuxian firmly denies, “Let us not attribute that particular error to someone else.”

“Indeed,” Lan Zhan nods graciously, as expected. He wouldn’t be Lan Zhan if he didn’t accept his own mistakes without hesitation.

“Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang tucks his fan away and he sees Lan Zhan focus on that, his eyes suddenly sharp, “He has been saying the same thing since you were at Cloud Recesses. He has always dragged you away from Lan Wangji. You saved Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan’s lives. Why is he so intent on our Second Jade, hmm?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head, “You’re making this unnecessarily complicated.” He says, “On the surface, all of these actions appear wrong but the intent behind them isn’t cruel.”

“Your love for him blinds you.” Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes sharply at his old friend, “If er-ge treated Wangji-xiong like that, you’d be furious. Just the threat of da-ge whipping would have you reaching for your flute.”

“Huaisang-”

“Did you think we wouldn’t feel the same way?”

Wei Wuxian studies him and Lan Zhan, realizing they are utterly serious. Concerned and a bit baffled, he looks at Jiang Cheng over his shoulder, only to find him nose to nose with Wang-zongzhu. “Heavens,” He breathes and steps forward, determined to intervene.

“You think what?” Jiang Cheng’s voice is full of disgust, “You… you think I have… that I’m some disgusting cutsleeve?!”

Wait, what?

“How dare you?! I would never touch a man!”

“Is that what he’s focusing on?” Nie Huaisang asks incredulously.

For once, Wei Wuxian has nothing to say.

---

It takes a few weeks for fresh rumors to make their rounds. People now know that Jiang Wanyin hasn’t behaved inappropriately with his martial brother, but that doesn’t make much difference.

The cultivation world, in general, still believes that Jiang Cheng’s behavior is abhorrent. Wei Wuxian is tempted to point out the hypocrisy of their words but knows it is futile. Once the masses make up their minds about something, few can persuade them to think otherwise. Jiang Cheng’s reputation has been tainted forever and there’s little they can do about it.

Unfortunately, this issue has also cemented the break between Wei Wuxian and his Sect Leader. There’s nothing that can repair the relationship now. He feels a pang of loss but he had already resigned himself to that when he had given away his Golden Core.

Fortunately, it seems he has some options available.

“Come to Gusu with me,” Lan Zhan says, his tone softer, his voice imploring, “Please.” This time, Wei Wuxian can’t mistake his intent. Lan Zhan’s reaction to the entire mess made one thing very clear to him.

Lan Wangji cares about him.

Isn’t that something? Never in his life did Wei Wuxian think he would be in such a position. He had always assumed Jiang Cheng would be by his side and Lan Wangji would stand against him. But everything is different now.

Wei Wuxian thinks of his childhood home, thinks of a life that has been irrevocably changed, and sinks in those memories for a brief moment. Despite what everyone thinks, there have been some good times. He doesn’t regret the course his life took when he was welcomed to the Lotus Pier by Jiang Fengmian.

He lingers, briefly, on regret,

Then, he shrugs it off and looks into the golden eyes of his future with a grin, “I’ll come to Gusu with you, Lan Zhan.”

And that’s that.

[ravennm84]

Serafina

Part 2     Part 3

Based on @unmaskedagain post “Marinette’s Haunted Doll” this is my take on the story and the kind of things Serafina would have done to get even. There’ll be three parts, and will hopefully be posted through the week. Blood, gore, and character death ahead. You have been warned.

She was seven years old when her Grandma Gina’s sister, Ramona, passed away. Marinette couldn’t remember ever meeting her. Her dad said that she was a very private person and didn’t get out much. Since she had never married or had any children, all of her relatives were asked to come over to the house and divide the property before the rest was sold and equally divided. 

While her parents had been in the kitchen, looking over some family cook books, Marinette had wandered around the old house until she came to a small room. It was full of spiderwebs and old toys, which greatly interested her. She spent a long time looking through the boxes and shelves until she found a locked chest in the closet. Remembering the key she had seen in a dresser drawer, she retrieved it to see if it worked. It was hard to turn, but she heard the click and was able to open the lid. Inside was a box with an envelope laying on top of it. Curious she opened the envelope and read the note as best as she could.

“If I’m dead, Serafina killed me.”

Tilting her head in curiosity, Marinette set the letter aside and opened the box. Inside was an old looking porcelain doll. It was covered in spiderwebs, the dress was old and ripped, she was missing a shoe, and the hat looked like it was stained with red paint. 

“Are you Serafina?” She asked the doll before carefully lifting it out of the box. “I don’t think you’re bad, you just look lonely. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you!” Giving the doll a gentle hug, the little girl got to her feet and left the room and letter behind. Finding her parents, she asked if it was okay to take the doll home so she could take care of her.

Tom remembered seeing that doll when he was a kid and had always thought it was creepy, but if his little girl saw the good in it, he would trust her. And since none of the other relatives wanted anything to do with the doll, it came home with them. 

Once home, the little girl raced up to her room with the doll and immediately got to work. She threw away the old dress, hat, and shoe before cleaning away all the dirt with a washcloth and carefully combing out the knotted hair. Then Marinette got to work on making Serafina a brand new outfit with new shoes and a hat. It took a few days, but she was really happy with what she came up with: a pink Victorian dress with rose and pearl accents, a wide brimmed hat with maroon feathers, and maroon slippers that tied with ribbons around the ankles.

Proud of what she had made, Marinette held the doll up high as she twirled around her room. She had been interested in fashion and clothes for months now, and making the pretty outfit for Serafina was a lot of fun. If anything, it proved to her that fashion design was what she wanted to do.

“I hope you like your new clothes, Serafina. You make the perfect little model, so I hope you don’t mind if I make more clothes for you later on. I promise to only make you clothes that will make you feel pretty.” Giving the doll a kiss, Marinette placed her next to her computer before skipping down stairs for dinner.

~oOo~

Serafina had not been expecting this when the young girl, Marinette, had opened her box. It had been decades since anyone had shown her any kindness. For so many years, she had been passed from person to person, shoved into boxes and hidden from sight or attempted to be sold off. Serafina had had no choice but to punish many of her past owners, and she had not been lax with their punishments. 

But she didn’t feel the need to do that with Marinette, this girl was different. She wasn’t afraid of her. She didn’t scorn her and hide her away where no one could see her. No, this girl was kind and made Serafina feel loved; something she hadn’t felt in nearly a hundred years. Staying with Marinette, she knew that she would be happy. So, no one needed to die here.

And she was.

The porcelain doll smiled quietly on Marinette’s desk as the years passed, and felt more for this girl than she could remember with anyone else. She felt beautiful whenever Marinette used her to experiment with a new outfit before she would make a full sized outfit for herself. She had fun when the girl would sing and dance around the room, sometimes even picking her up so she could dance with her. She felt entertained when she would play movies on her computer, one time watching a movie about a haunted doll like herself; they didn’t watch much before she turned it off, but Serafina thought it was funny. Scratching people and leaving notes wasn’t scary, she had done much scarier things than that.

As Marinette grew into a teen, Serafina felt proud as she grew from a shy girl into a fearless superhero. Her owner had a lot of love and light to give, so it made sense to her that she became Ladybug. She also felt scared for the girl, not wanting to lose her to Hawkmoth, but silently promised her that if she was ever hurt, the people who hurt her would pay her back in blood.

Serafina was also aware of the tiny god that gave Marinette her power, just as Tikki was aware of her. No doubt, the god could sense the darkness that dwelled in her porcelain body, but realized that she cared for the girl and would not harm her. So the little god wisely said nothing, she would hate it if Marinette suddenly feared her.

After all, the three of them were happy and at peace.

Until the day Marinette came storming into her room, complaining about a girl named Lila. From what she could hear, this girl was a liar and was using her friends. Knowing how much her human cared for other people, that didn’t sit well with how it would affect her. Then she didn’t hear anything about the girl for months. But when she was mentioned again, it quickly got worse from there. 

Serafina heard about the threats, the lies, almost being akumatized, her crush Adrien telling her to take the high road, all of it. She watched as one by one, her friends turned against her. Bullying her while accusing her of being a bully until only three of her classmates remained. She knew that the teacher and principal were useless and even accused Marinette of being a problem, especially after the expulsion. Serafina had nearly enacted her revenge that day, but held back when she was reinstated the next day.

Nathaniel, Rose, and Juleka were the only people left that believed her or even bothered to try and help in her class. There was also Kagami and Luka, Juleka’s brother. Serafina would admit, that boy was sharper than most. When he first saw her, his blue eyes studied her intently for a long moment until Marinette spoke up.

“That’s Serafina, she’s been passed down through my family for a long time. She was in really bad condition when I got her and took a lot of work to get her fixed up, but it was worth it. She was my first ever model and I’ve never felt lonely since she’s been around.”

Luka looked back over at the doll and gave her a smile. “I can tell, I’d bet no one gave her the proper love or attention until she came to you. And I think, if she could talk, she would say that you kept her from feeling lonely too, and all she wants is for you to be happy.”

Serafina liked that boy, a lot more than she had liked Adrien when he had come to play video games. The boy genuinely seemed to care for Marinette. And even though he could somehow sense that she was more than just a doll, he didn’t spill her secret. Yes, she approved of this one.

And then, less than a week after she returned to school, came the worst day. They were taking pictures at the school and Marinette had worked so hard on a new dress; it was pale purple cotton with teacup sleeves, a tulip skirt and pink lace at the hem. It was so sweet and looked like she was going to a spring tea party. Then half way through the day, she came into her room crying. Her makeup was smeared, there were bruises and scratch marks on her arms, another bruise on her cheek, her hair was a mess and covered in dark blue paint. The same paint that covered almost half of the dress. Tikki was doing her best to comfort the girl as she showered. Marinette was unable to save her dress and ended up throwing it away before she cried herself to sleep on her bed. 

Serafina was angry, the kind of anger she hadn’t felt since Ramona had attempted to burn her in the fireplace… and that hadn’t gone well for her. Tikki flew over to face her. “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t condone you falling into old habits and killing her entire class. Despite how much they’ve hurt her, it would still break her heart if they all suddenly died.”

The doll actually considered that for a moment before picturing some very specific people. Lila, the liar that was trying to take away/destroy the person she cared about. Alya, the best friend that betrayed her, acted like a hypocrite, and took joy in hurting her. Adrien, the boy that not only broke his promise to help her as a civilian, but continually harassed her as a pseudo-hero. And finally, Hawkmoth, the person that was constantly putting her in danger. Everyone else that had harmed her would be punished, paying back the harm they had done to Marinette in blood, but those four would pay with their lives.

Tikki shook her head. “As angry as I am with Adrien, you can’t kill him. Marinette still has feelings for him and if he dies, she might never get over him. I can’t stop you from punishing them, but please try not to kill them. You know that she has a big heart and it would hurt her to lose any of them, so please keep that in mind.”

Serafina would have argued, but the little god was right. Killing around Marinette would only upset her. So she would do her best to punish them without killing them… although, accidents do happen. 

~oOo~

It was easy enough to sneak herself into Marinette’s bag the next day of school. It was even easier to select her first victims. One of her classmates, Kim, stole her backpack and dumped out all of her stuff, including her. The boy laughed about Marinette bringing a doll to school as he ran up the stairs to keep it away from her. It took little effort to make the boy trip, in full view of everyone that had been watching, and fall backwards down the steps. 

Serafina had landed at the top landing with a perfect view of the boy’s tumble, and it was oh so satisfying. She could see his knee bent in the wrong direction, a bone in his arm protruding from the skin, and blood dripping from the cuts and open wounds. But the sound was even better, all the cracking and popping of bone before he began crying like a little girl, begging for his mom.  Ah, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed those sounds.

When the principal came out to see what was happening, she hid her presence and let the principal trip over her and fall as well. He even landed on Kim, causing more injuries to both of them. She held back a laugh as the grown man wailed and cried until the paramedics arrived. Loading the two into the ambulance while one of the teachers called the Board of Governors. A representative, M. Rupere, quickly came to take over the principal’s duties while he was gone, and was surprised when a bunch of students tried to blame Marinette for the incident.

“And how is it her fault?” He asked the students that surrounded him. “Did you see her push or trip M. Le Chien or M. Damocles down the stairs?

“Marinette brought in a doll and Kim was distracted by it when he was going up the stairs, that’s how he tripped and fell,” Lila told him with tears in her eyes. “Then M. Damocles tripped over the doll and fell down the stairs too. It’s just like how she pushed me down the stairs last week and I hurt my knee. I think she’s actually trying to hurt people.”

The man looked at Lila for a moment before looking to the top of the stairs, but there was no doll there. Then he looked back at Lila with a stern glare. “Young lady, if you had been pushed down the stairs last week, you would have been severely injured just like your friend or M. Damocles. And whether or not it was Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s doll that caused the incident or not, does not mean that she is at fault for the accident. To the principal’s office, right now. I think we should have a discussion as to why you are trying to blame another student for something she did not do.”

Totally shocked, the girl looked around to her followers for some support, but they were now looking at her with uncertainty. They had just seen two people fall down the stairs and receive severe injuries, so how was Lila walking around just fine without a scratch on her? Huffing in annoyance, Lila stomped her way to the office while the class stared after her, most of them noticing the lack of limp to her walk.

Serafina was pleased with how this was turning out, she had already punished two of the people that had betrayed Marinette and had begun sewing seeds of doubt with the liar. At the moment, she was hiding in the classroom, observing everyone so she could figure out the best way to punish them. She noticed Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel sitting close to the girl and doing their best to comfort her. She also noticed Nino, a boy she had seen a couple of times over the years, casting looks back at Marinette. 

During the first break, the boy cautiously approached her, clutching his hat in his hands. “Hey dudette, listen… I, um, wanted to say I was sorry,” he said, having a hard time looking her in the eye. “After Kim fell, what that Governor dude said about Lila not being hurt, and the fact that I’ve known you forever. I felt so stupid. You would never push someone down the stairs or cheat or steal from someone like that. And I tried looking up Jagged’s discography to see if there was any mention of a song about Lila, and there was literally nothing. I tried telling Alya, but she didn’t want to listen and-”

Nino was interrupted by Marinette giving him a hug. Serafina smiled at that. The boy had thought for himself and admitted that he was wrong. He apologized and Marinette was willing to offer him forgiveness. She supposed that Nino could also be exempt from punishment, so long as he never betrayed the girl again.

Half way through the second lesson, Lila had returned to the class with two weeks worth of detention and had a meeting scheduled with herself, M. Rupere, and her mother at the end of the week. Serafina decided to let the girl’s empire fall before going in to completely destroy her.

During lunch, when all the students had left. Serafina got to work on punishing Mme. Bustier. She started by slamming the door shut, it made the woman jump and look around the room, but there was no one there. Then the giggling started, causing her to look around the room again. This time, she walked up the steps to see if anyone was hiding in the room, but she was completely alone. When she turned back to her desk, the papers she had been grading were torn to pieces. A bit panicked, Bustier tried to run out of the room, but the door was locked. As she struggled with the door, she heard the scraping of chalk and froze for a moment before looking at the board. Large words were scrawled in block letters: LIAR, ENABLER, MEAN, CRUEL, and the most frightening of all, YOU WILL PAY.

Bustier’s hands were shaking as she erased the words from the board, not understanding what was happening. Only taking a breath when the door opened and her students began to file in. Serafina quietly laughed at the teacher’s fear, she was another person that she would take her time in punishing. Payback for failing to help Marinette. For now, it was time to take out her biggest supporter. 

Again, it was much easier than it should have been to sneak herself in Alya’s backpack and go home with her. When the girl found her she sneered. “The klutz must have put you in my bag by mistake.” Then she smiled cruelly at her. “I think I’ll give you to Etta and Ella to play with before giving you back to Maribrat, maybe tell them that you need a makeover and give them some permanent markers too.”

Turning to take the doll out to her sisters, she stubbed her toe on her desk chair hard enough that she felt a crack and dropped back on her butt while hissing in pain. When she was finally able to think past the pain, she realized that she had dropped the doll and didn't see it on the floor. After wrapping her foot, she looked all over her room but couldn’t find it anywhere.

That night, things got… more than scary. Alya was absolutely terrified.

First, her computer turned on, on its own, and started printing off papers saying “YOU KNOW THE TRUTH”. She turned the computer off, only for it to turn back on after she’d climbed into bed and the browser pulled up past searches; specifically, the searches that proved that Lila had been lying. She had found that out after Lila had disappeared from school for months, but had kept to herself so she wouldn’t lose her credibility on her blog or have to admit to Marinette that she’d been right. Turning it off again, she’d decided to sleep on the couch when her phone suddenly let out a hiss and burst into flames.  

Letting out a shriek, Alya rushed to her door, and had just barely opened it when it slammed shut on her fingers, causing her to scream as she struggled to pull her hand free. She could hear her parents and Nora shouting on the other side of the door, trying to push it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Her head got fuzzy and she suddenly felt cold, she realized that she was going into shock. Her parents’ shouts became garbled background noise and Alya heard the sound of tiny feet running around the room. She tried reaching the light switch so she could see, but it was out of reach.

From the light outside her window, she could barely make out the movement of a small shadow, moving from one part of the room to another. Coming closer and closer to her with every sweep. Alya began tugging harder on the doorknob and her hand. She needed to get out. Something was in the room with her. She could almost feel the darkness creeping closer. It wanted to hurt her!

What happened next, Serafina couldn’t have planned better if she’d tried. Alya jerked back her trapped arm and the doorknob at the same time Nora threw her shoulder into the door as hard as she could. Sending the teenagers flying into her bedside table and her head hitting the corner with an audible *crack*. The doll smiled silently in the corner of the room as the paramedics were called and listened to her parents cries for their horrid daughter to wake up. They called time of death at 2:03am.

~oOo~

It was a bit more of a chore for Serafina to get back to the school, but it was still manageable as her mother had to inform the school of her daughter’s death and pick up her things. The woman had also noticed the information that had been brought up on Alya’s computer and thought that she had been up late chasing a lead. And as the lead had to do with the disturbing behavior of one of her daughter’s classmates, she thought it best to show the acting principal the information before taking her leave. 

Making her way back to the classroom, she saw that the news had spread already. Nino seemed to be hit the hardest, as it was his girlfriend, but he would get over it. Kim was still out of class, and likely would be for a few more days. Tikki saw the doll when she was peeking out of the purse and gave her a disapproving glare, but there was nothing she could do. And in Serafina’s defense, she had only intended on maiming the failed journalist, her death had been an “accident”.

When class let out for lunch, Serafina got back to work tormenting Mme. Bustier. Today, the door slammed and locked shut a few minutes after the last student left. The woman shrieked and was struggling to open the door when the giggling started again. Bustier started screaming for it to “go away” but the giggling continued. Turning back to the door, books began flying at her from all over the room, hitting her chest, back, arms since they were shielding her head.

Then the door opened to show a panicked looking M. Rupere. “I heard screaming, are you alright?” The red haired teacher looked extremely frazzled; her hair was a mess, eyes wide and dilated, and her hands were shaking.

“The books,” she said in a trembling voice. “There was giggling, the door wouldn’t open, and the books attacked me. And this was the second time!”

His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he stared at the woman. “Did you see who was throwing the books at you?”

Bustier shook her head in a frantic manner. “There was no one, the books just started flying at me after the giggling.”

Giving her a slow nod, Rupere gently motioned her to step out of the room ahead of him. “How about you take the rest of the day to recover? Some rest will do you some good.” 

To his relief, Mme. Bustier agreed and collected her purse before leaving the school. Looking around the room, he was confused to see all the books in place on the shelves. Curious, he went to examine her desk and saw essay papers… covered in red ink with large “F’s” on every one of them. Reading the paper on top, all he saw were a few grammar mistakes, nothing that should have resulted in a failing grade. A bit unsettled, Rupere called the Board to schedule a psychological exam for the teacher. Serafina watched the man with satisfaction, at the rate she was going with that terrible teacher, she wouldn’t be around much longer.

Her next victims were Max and Alix during science class. She switched a couple of labels on the tubs on their desk before hiding in the room to enjoy the show. Half-way through class, Max poured a large amount of reactive chemical into the mix while it was warming over a burner, and the glass exploded. The two screamed and cursed in pain as Max tried wiping the liquid away from his face, only succeeding in getting more in his eyes. Alix tried wiping it away with a cloth, not noticing in time that the fabric was also soaked in the chemicals that now covered her entire face.

Serafina was impressed with how quickly Mme. Mendeleiev reacted to the incident. Doaning on gloves in an instant and leading the two students to the chemical wash station. Both students looked to have chemical burns on their faces, arms and necks. She could already see the burns covering a large amount of their exposed skin. While the class was distracted, Serafina switched the labels back so it would appear that the two had not been doing as instructed.

When school let out, the doll hid away in Mylene’s bag and ended up going on a date with the girl and Ivan. They commented on the bad luck their class seemed to be having and wondered out loud at what the cause might have been.

Mylene was hesitant to speak as the two ate their ice cream. “Do you think… maybe it’s karma coming back on our class?”

“Why do you think that?” Ivan asked her, seeming genuinely curious. Deciding that their conversation might lead to something more, Serafina waited and listened.

“It’s just… ever since Kim fell down the stairs, it’s got me thinking. Lila says that Marinette pushed her but the only injury she says she got was a bad knee, and she’s been walking around fine since then. And then she tried blaming Marinette for Kim and M. Damocles, when Kim shouldn’t have been running up the stairs and M. Damocles tripped at the top of the stairs when she was still down in the courtyard.”

“You’re right, now that I think about it. Lila lied to that new principal and she did it really easy.” Ivan nodded slowly, his brow creased as he pulled out his phone. “I wonder if she lied about anything else.” Mylene watched over his shoulder as he looked up the story about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten from an airplane. There was nothing, the only article that came up about a pet was his crocodile, Fang. The story said that he had hatched the reptile himself seventeen years earlier and any other pet wouldn’t be as rock’n’roll as Fang. “I don’t think Jagged ever had a cat, this article says that he’s only had Fang for longer than we’ve been around.”

Mylene pulled out her phone and called Rose, putting the call on speaker when she answered. 

“Hi Mylene, did you hear anything about Max and Alix? Are they going to be okay?” The girl asked as soon as she picked up.

“Ivan and I haven’t heard anything about them yet, but we have a question for you, Rose, and it’s something only you would be able to answer.”

There was a slight pause on the line. “Go ahead.”

“Do you still chat with Prince Ali?”

“Sure I do! We video chat every Saturday and I send him videos of our performances with Kitty Section. Why do you ask?”

“Ivan and I were wondering… Has he ever mentioned Lila to you?”

There was another pause, although they could hear a hushed conversation in the background. “So, you guys figured out the truth about Lila?” When they didn’t respond right away, Rose continued. “I found out a few weeks after Lila says she came back from Achu. I mentioned Lila to Ali and asked him about the charities they had been working on together, but he’d never heard of her. And Ali is only working on charities involving children, nothing with the environment. When Juleka and I tried asking Lila about it, she got really mean and threatened us if we told anyone. I would have been akumatized if Marinette hadn’t been there to calm me down.”

Ivan and Mylene were horrified, not only had Lila been lying to them, but she had threatened Rose, Juleka, and probably Marinette too. “What should we do?”

“First, you should apologize to Marinette for how you’ve been treating her and let her know that you know the truth.” They heard Juleka over the phone. “Lila has been more terrible to her than anyone else and she keeps getting in Lila’s way to protect us and Nathaniel since we know the truth about her.”

“Who all knows?” Ivan asked, feeling a bit sick to his stomach. Sure, he and Mylene hadn’t really hurt her or done anything, but they hadn’t stood up for her either and they were supposed to be her friend.

“Us, Luka, Kagami, Nathaniel figured it out when she said she could introduce him to Stan Lee, Nino figured it out yesterday, and Adrien’s apparently known from the start but didn’t say anything because he doesn’t think her lies are hurting anybody.”

Both of them could hear the acid in Juleka’s voice when she mentioned Adrien, and they couldn’t argue with her. They knew he had led a sheltered life, but how could he claim that ‘lies don’t hurt anybody’ after sitting back and watching Lila and her friends torment and bully Marinette?

Mylene hadn’t even realized that she had asked that question out loud until Rose answered them. “He told us that it was Marinette’s own fault for antagonizing Lila, and ‘If she just took the high road like I told her, then Lila would leave her alone’. It took everything I had not to slap him.”

Coming from Rose, that really was saying something.

Serafina was then taken on a shopping trip to an arts supplies store, a card shop, and a stop at an ATM before going to Marinette’s family’s bakery. She smiled quietly and with great respect to the couple as they apologized to her girl, gave her cards, an entire bolt of soft purple cotton the same color that her ruined dress had been, a new sketchbook, and money to pay her back for some of the things that Marinette had given them over the past year. They even asked her to provide them with proper receipts, and admitted that they knew the amount they had given her wasn’t enough to cover everything. But they promised to pay her back before asking for anything else, as well as pay in advance for any future items or baked goods. 

The little doll would have cried right along with Marinette if she could. These two had proven themselves to her and would avoid punishment, just as Nino had.

Taglist (it’s a long one):

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[yikesharringrove]

Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

-

Steve Harrington is a liar. 

He always has been. 

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade. 

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine. 

Steve is a liar. 

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore. 

It was always about protection. 

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory. 

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers. 

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion. 

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay. 

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins. 

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband. 

The Harringtons. 

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma. 

That’s what they told everyone. 

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school. 

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears. 

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal. 

So Steve lied. 

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports. 

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

-

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight. 

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section. 

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip. 

She glared at him. 

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine. 

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died. 

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options. 

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him. 

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve. 

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically. 

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was. 

Almost. 

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now. 

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place. 

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit. 

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back. 

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more. 

Robin means well. He knows she does. 

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her. 

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share. 

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her. 

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them. 

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him. 

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy. 

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose. 

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for. 

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit. 

Especially if he did it right. 

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat. 

It was always too simple when he let the power take over. 

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him. 

And then just, twist it as much as he wants. 

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide. 

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority. 

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand. 

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being. 

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house. 

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used). 

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house. 

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place. 

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place. 

Which was good for Steve. 

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove. 

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new. 

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant. 

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain. 

And there wasn’t silence. 

Creaks. 

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway. 

Footsteps. 

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts. 

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful. 

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still. 

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves. 

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall. 

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing. 

No questions asked. 

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath. 

He closed his eyes, and swung. 

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder. 

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve. 

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear. 

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused. 

His top lip was covered in blood. 

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs. 

The footsteps that were caused by no one. 

It’s official. 

Steve’s lost it. 

He’s fucking crazy. 

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life. 

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps. 

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight. 

-

Billy hates Harrington’s house. 

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated. 

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise. 

It keeps him on edge. 

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room. 

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs. 

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house. 

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety. 

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed. 

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat. 

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered. 

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal. 

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage. 

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot. 

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it. 

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped. 

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them. 

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team. 

Billy let himself be the muscle. 

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role. 

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise. 

They’d all lost enough people to understand that. 

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding. 

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms. 

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night. 

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head. 

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him. 

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing. 

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging. 

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters. 

Save the rest. 

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die. 

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone. 

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it. 

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit. 

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up. 

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house. 

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room. 

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking. 

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit. 

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place. 

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too. 

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him. 

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs. 

-

Steve’s going fucking crazy. 

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes. 

He hadn’t slept at all last night. 

Something just felt. Off. 

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions. 

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone. 

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards. 

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill. 

And he couldn’t push them out. 

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings. 

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one. 

He’s lost the metaphor. 

Doesn’t matter. 

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked. 

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video. 

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life. 

He was going to be late for work. 

He didn’t really give a fuck. 

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making. 

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin. 

His brain was empty. 

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings. 

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit. 

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation. 

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.” 

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. 

Bingo. 

She wasn’t actually mad at him. 

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning. 

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say. 

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room. 

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick. 

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today. 

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything. 

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go. 

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into. 

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift. 

It was easy to pass the shift like that. 

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight. 

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well. 

Lonely. 

He almost felt lonely. 

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence. 

He’s officially crazy. 

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky. 

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen. 

Or something to that effect. 

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day. 

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention. 

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit. 

-

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot. 

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced. 

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys. 

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall. 

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it. 

Things had been quiet lately. 

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to. 

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body. 

Billy hadn’t listened. 

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now. 

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that. 

They had the runs down to a system. 

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest. 

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air. 

Billy got it. 

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen. 

They just. Make do. 

Ration food and keep each other safe. 

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward. 

There’s nothing to see too far in the future. 

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could. 

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left. 

Billy would keep watch. 

He always kept watch. 

Things had been too good for too long. 

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls. 

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer. 

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm. 

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute. 

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out. 

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second. 

Things were too quiet.

-

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull. 

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight. 

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this. 

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability. 

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken. 

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of. 

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby. 

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride. 

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society. 

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul. 

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep. 

  “Hello?”

It was his house. 

But it wasn’t his house. 

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere. 

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house. 

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove. 

But it wasn’t Billy. 

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn. 

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes. 

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water. 

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain. 

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either. 

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

-

So. 

That’s something. 

Dreaming about Harrington. 

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life. 

Or maybe he did. 

He’d said it in the dream. 

Somewhere safe. 

It’s what he felt in that blackness. 

Safety. Warmth. Hope. 

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library. 

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head. 

It made waking up that much shittier. 

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air. 

He needed to process. 

There was something so fucking weird about that dream. 

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened. 

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy. 

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions. 

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy. 

All that made sense. 

But everything else. 

Steve said he was dead. 

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about. 

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response. 

His head was spinning out of control. 

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe. 

Because, they were. 

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe. 

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame. 

The door had long since rotted right through. 

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet. 

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil. 

He hopes not. 

He likes Andrew too much for that. 

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot. 

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose. 

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet. 

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place. 

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them. 

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.” 

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away. 

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew. 

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it. 

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

-

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning. 

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit. 

His nose had bled in the night. 

He never got nosebleeds. 

Unless he used his power. 

And that dream. 

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed. 

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head. 

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver. 

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety. 

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup. 

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

-

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door. 

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. 

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown. 

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota. 

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today. 

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it. 

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight. 

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him. 

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all. 

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was. 

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer. 

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news. 

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas. 

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway. 

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve. 

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood. 

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it. 

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help. 

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door. 

It took two to finally tame his nerves any. 

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately. 

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie. 

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her. 

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin. 

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him. 

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name. 

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer. 

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

-

Nobody dared speak. 

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move. 

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard. 

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant. 

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt. 

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met. 

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him. 

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through. 

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.” 

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas. 

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries. 

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in. 

Respect and responsibility. 

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives. 

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued. 

Hopper nodded. 

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days. 

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed. 

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid. 

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green. 

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games. 

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit. 

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow. 

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday. 

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety. 

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

-

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by. 

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her. 

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .” 

Steve nodded at Dustin. 

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously. 

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts. 

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist. 

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.” 

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing. 

Steve was tired. 

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment. 

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon. 

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again. 

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence. 

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else. 

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin. 

It was always Robin. 

Steve let himself look at her. 

She was pale, but she was smiling at him. 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?” 

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully. 

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas. 

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever. 

There was no going back after this. 

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with. 

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him. 

Made her want him. 

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart. 

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her. 

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him. 

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper. 

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off. 

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel. 

She slammed the door closed behind her. 

Another fucking silence. 

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him. 

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question. 

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor. 

And, when it’s put like that. 

Sure. 

It’s kinda fucked up. 

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure. 

All he does is try to help. 

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence. 

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud. 

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house. 

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death. 

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall. 

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him. 

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

-

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. 

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place. 

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple. 

It didn’t make a sound. 

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke. 

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place. 

The safety. 

“Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like. 

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows. 

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle. 

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle. 

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh. 

Steve knows. 

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy. 

Nice. 

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?” 

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve. 

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward. 

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly. 

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head. 

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb. 

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad. 

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again. 

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways. 

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell. 

-

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground. 

“You saw him.” 

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her. 

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed. 

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment. 

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot. 

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day. 

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain. 

He knows it’s Billy. 

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is. 

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment. 

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries. 

A genius. 

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell. 

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question. 

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters. 

She wants to know if he’s held it together. 

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next. 

She just wanted it confirmed. 

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve. 

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her. 

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had. 

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home. 

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her. 

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

-

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place. 

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining. 

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard. 

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid. 

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio. 

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes. 

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow. 

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place. 

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him. 

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy. 

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore. 

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product. 

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting. 

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface. 

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes. 

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement. 

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him. 

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up. 

“I’ll explain it when you get back.” 

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore. 

-

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick. 

Which he didn’t mind in the least. 

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house. 

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same. 

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to. 

It was kinda nice. 

At least one thing hasn’t changed. 

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable. 

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair. 

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up. 

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt. 

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same. 

Unease filled the room. 

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning. 

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience. 

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second. 

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment. 

And then it crashed down. 

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy. 

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions. 

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out. 

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky. 

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did. 

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified. 

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever. 

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone. 

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned. 

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago. 

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him. 

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.” 

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway. 

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him. 

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does. 

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout. 

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him. 

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere. 

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget. 

They were in some form of a ready position. 

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place. 

His heart was pounding. 

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon. 

He didn’t believe it. 

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head. 

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house. 

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard. 

The air was still. 

Billy’s ears were ringing. 

He stared the thing down. 

Its long fingers twitched. 

Someone screamed. 

And the thing charged. 

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet. 

It charged. 

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out. 

Plant your feet. 

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now. 

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited. 

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung. 

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down. 

Well, actually. 

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy. 

Which was less than awesome. 

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away. 

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place. 

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots. 

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree. 

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him. 

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal. 

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former. 

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone. 

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head. 

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about. 

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished. 

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails. 

Billy turned. 

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging. 

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived. 

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it. 

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone. 

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight. 

-

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it. 

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it. 

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt. 

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape. 

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes. 

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye. 

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided. 

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool. 

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death. 

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy. 

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters. 

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try. 

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. 

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes. 

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense. 

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways. 

He grabbed onto it. 

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak. 

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury. 

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip. 

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. 

Steve was livid. 

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world. 

He opened his eyes. 

There was blood flowing steadily from El’s nose, and he knew his was doing the same. 

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers. 

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt. 

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it. 

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition. 

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo. 

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it. 

He remembers getting the tattoo. 

It was nearly the same process. 

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind. 

001

Number One. 

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance. 

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool. 

It was open. 

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool. 

-

It was the little one that noticed it. 

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way. 

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming. 

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own. 

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared. 

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold. 

Something was moving in the pool. 

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete. 

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them. 

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge. 

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open. 

He was blinded with pain and rage and 

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through. 

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils. 

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold. 

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength. 

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold. 

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily. 

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy. 

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while. 

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself. 

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else. 

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.” 

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about. 

Nobody but Hopper, that is. 

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift. 

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,” Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off. 

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door. 

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors. 

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through. 

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?” 

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down. 

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong. 

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.” 

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face. 

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face. 

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual. 

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his. 

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now. 

Right before they tried to journey between worlds. 

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

-

Billy meant it as a joke. 

He really did. 

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality. 

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.” 

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths. 

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool. 

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire. 

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass. 

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through. 

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy. 

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long. 

He could feel her on the other side. 

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her. 

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her. 

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool. 

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve. 

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house. 

Everything was so. Wrong. 

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected. 

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares. 

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade. 

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission. 

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen. 

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside. 

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold. 

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder. 

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground. 

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him. 

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El. 

The thing shrieked. 

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. 

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head. 

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out. 

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces. 

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood. 

He had never felt so wrung dry. 

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool. 

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

-

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury. 

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds. 

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool. 

It was the best feeling in the world. 

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life. 

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm. 

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air. 

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around. 

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm. 

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed. 

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train. 

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage. 

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing. 

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him? 

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit. 

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin. 

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders. 

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel. 

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side. 

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses. 

Steve looked like shit. 

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down. 

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life. 

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well. 

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears. 

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town. 

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died. 

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand. 

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead. 

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve. 

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him. 

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around. 

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat. 

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him. 

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room. 

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room. 

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs. 

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room. 

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado. 

But it was oddly comforting. 

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy. 

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.” 

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him. 

About the lab. 

About the experiments. 

About the torture. 

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him. 

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get. 

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out. 

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy. 

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was. 

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade. 

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him. 

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation. 

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is. 

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with. 

Showing them. Talking about them. 

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve. 

Steve would just. 

He’d know. 

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea. 

Billy sat down gently on the bed. 

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy. 

Billy just grinned at him. 

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Cupid

Note: This is for @afriendlyblackhottie​​ Brat and Birthday challenge. Happy Bday Month 🎉🎈🎊🎂🍰! I chose Cupid by 112. Chris art work by @nix-akimbo​ she is amazing here is the original.

Summery: Ransom likes a bridesmaid.

Warning: Daddy Kink, gag, oral (reader receives), sex

Groomsman Band member Ransom x Black Reader, Knives out Alternative Universe

Leaning in the archway of the reception hall you sighed watching the newlyweds dance their first dance. You didn't want to be here. Not after all the shit he put Courtney, the bride, through.

But your bestie was the kind of girl that could not function without a man in her life. He had cheated on her five times, that you knew of. You were sure there was more, but she as well as you were tired of the berating.

It was always the same. He cheated, she cried, you picked up the pieces and then when he was ready she would go back. Pathetic.

"Aw don't pout princess your day will come" your eyes rolled at the sound of his voice. You had the misfortune to be linked with Ransom, the cousin of the groom. All the other bridesmaids drooled over him, but you weren't impressed. This rich boy was looking to add to his body count so you only interacted with him only when you needed to.

Their family had paid for this whole affair. You nearly punched one of the grooms relatives when she made a remark on Courtney's color choices. They were all on your shit list.

Just ignore him. Its almost over and you will never have to see him again.

As the song ended everyone applauded while you made your way over to the open bar. Your wrist was snagged as you crossed his path. Snatching it back you looked at him as if he grew another head.

"Look you don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Let's be miserable together." He held up his hands in surrender. You were stuck on this island and you were smart enough not to fall for dumb shit so you gave yourself permission to relax.

You both took over an empty table in the back of the massive hall. Ransom disappeared for a bit, then returned with two bottles of champagne and two glasses. The bar was an open bar, but you were sure they weren't handing out bottles left and right.

"OK let's play a game to pass the time." Ransom proposed as he approached.

"Game? What kind of game?" You waited curiously. Sitting the glasses and bottles down Ransom proceeded to pop the cork on one of the bottles of Champaign.

"We both take turns pointing out people we think the other would fuck."your mouth fell open with his boldness as he spoke. "If you guess wrong you have to take a sip. Yatta yatta you get it."

"Are you just trying to get me drunk?" You squint at him playfully suspicious.

"Nah, just bored. So come on let's play."

You watched as he poured the glasses to the brim, when he handed you the bubbling glass you thanked him. Ransom moved his chair next to you, sitting shoulder to shoulder so you both were sure to have the same view of the people on the floor.

"Ladies first" he held his glass high. You clinked your glass with his signaling ‘good game’.

"What about her?" You pointed to Courtney's great aunt. The lovely woman was at least eighty-seven, you knew this would be a 'no', but why not start off with a softball.

He gave you a look that made you snort.

"Wow was that a laugh? I seriously didn't think the ice queen was capable. You didn't even smile for the wedding photos. Achievement unlocked." Ransom was full of himself.

"No one is gonna believe I got the frost queen to crack a smile." Ransom boasted.

You took a sip from your glass so you didn't have to reply. There was nothing to smile about. You didn't approve of this wedding so you weren't going to act like you were. Courtney was lucky you even agreed to be a bridesmaid.

"OK my turn." He observed the crowded floor, before finding his mark. "Glasses two o'clock."

You searched out 'Glasses' and scoped him out. Tall, put together nicely. "Yep."

"Really?" He gave you a look, that made it hard to fight back the curl of your lip.

"Yep..I have particular taste." You say casually with a shrug.

"Well all right to each his own I guess."

"My turn" you stopped for a beat then found her. " Oh what about her?" you pointed to a tall slender blonde.

"Ugh no...That's my aunt."

"Oooops....My bad... let me see who else, umm" you looked around the room, but he only looked at you.

"Oh! Oh! Her" you pointed to Stephani, a younger cousin of Courtney's. Thick thighed, uber fit college student.

"You can't go twice. Take your sip."

"What that was your aunt that cant count" you argued back.

"A no is a no" he tutted.

"Fine" you gulped from your glass and waited your turn.

"OK my turn. Hmm...What about him" he pointed to an older man that was chatting up a bridesmaid that was way to young for him.

"Eww nah not my type, but he might have gotten a yes back in the day." You tilted your head with a smirk.

"Oh thank gawd. That's my dad."

"What the fuck? Dude gross" you slapped at his shoulder and laughed. Ransom rubbed it fanning pain.

"Hey you picked my aunt" he chuckled with you.

"Yeah but I didn't know she was your aunt!"

After finishing the first bottle you started to feel loose. Ransom's arm stretched out along the back of your chair, slyly rubbing circles on your bare arm, while you leaned snuggled into his side as you both continue to people watch.

"So what do you do?" You asked him.

Ransom was silent for a moment. Taking a long swig from the glass before looking over at you and sighing.

"I'm in a band."

"Oh really, is that your little hobby you do before you take over the board seat at your grand-papa's company?" you bit back a laugh. Ransom frowned at you, but you didn't care.

You knew of the older Thrombey, the famous author and owner of a publishing house. Through rehearsal you watched the interactions between the two and you knew that Ransom was the favorite of the acclaimed writer's brood.

"I don't want anything to do with that company believe it or not. I love music always have."

"Must be nice to play in a band bankrolled by a publishing house. What are y'all called 'Blood and Rock'" you laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

"Ha wrong again. We're called 'Coffee and Roses'. And I've been cut of financially ever since I got these bad boys" Ransom shimmed out of his blazer and rolled up his sleeves. His well toned arms were completely covered in ink. When he pulled down his collar you were able to see the massive art work that encompassed his neck, you bit into your bottom lip as he allowed you to ogle him. "This art work was not board approved " he joked. The booze mixed with Ransom's rocker bod was starting to lower your inhibitions and you needed to put a stop to it.

"Your cousin is a piece of shit." You changed the subject before taking a pull from your glass.

"Yeah well he gets that from his dad, he's always been an asshole."

"Apples don't fall far do they?" You snipped. When Ransom didn't respond you looked over, he was looking at his father who had now moved on to another pretty young thing.

"He made a mistake and he is fixing it." Ransom replied, suddenly in defense of his cousin.

The mistake in question was a child, by another woman. That baby you thought would be the final straw to break the camels back.

"Diamonds don't fix problems." You didn't come from money, but you knew that this wedding was a band-aid. And once it got wet you wondered what would be the gift for the next 'mistake'.

The groom had always bought his way out of his binds. The more he fucked up the more money he poured on it. This wedding you couldn't even fathom the cost. The wedding ring alone looked like it could choke a horse. And this destination wedding on his dime made you think on what happened in the interim leading up to this event.

"You're a really good friend. She's lucky that she has someone that cares so much." You both stared into the distance at the couple. They danced and smiled at each other so happy, but you felt sick. Ransom's sweet words made you immediately suspicious of his intent, his cousin had a habit of talking sweet, but he was a fucking snake. You weren't going to end up like Courtney.

"Look don't think that just because we got all chummy that all of a sudden I am gonna want to bang one out." You hit your glass on the table harder than you meant to, it tipped over and spilled out the rest of your drink.

When a little bit of the liquid trickled off the table and hit your dress you pushed away from the table. Just a tiny bit, nothing major to fuss about, but you had hit your limit. You'd done the wedding, you took the pictures and you stuck around for the reception. It was time to go.

You weren't about to be some random rich kids one night stand. So you stormed off. Thankfully the ball room was not far from the adjoining hotel. Marching you fumed and you cursed your friend for being this dumb, yourself for not doing more to stop this and almost falling for Ransom's charm. Mashing the buttons you thought of changing your number, wiping your hands from this friendship and looking into an overnight flight back home.

How much worse would it be now that she was legally married to that douche bag. The thought of them having kids only served to further irked you.

Before the elevator door could close a hand sliced down the middle, halting the closure.

You stood stunned as Ransom appeared out of breath and in-between the open doors.

**"Baby, I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into deception and lies"**

Ransom consumed the space between you two. Your ass hit the hand rail as the doors closed.

"I am not my father, I am not my cousin. I liked you." His confession made your heart flutter.

Don't be stupid. He is the same as the rest of his family. Don't fall for his game.

His hands rested on the bar on either side of your hips as he stood toe to toe with you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed turning away from him, unable to keep staring into those eyes.

**Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind I'm only saying what's in my heart**

With one finger he brought your focus back to him. You frowned at him, you weren't weak. You weren't falling for him no matter how much your body wanted to throw in the towel.

**Cupid doesn't lie** He leaned in close and you held your breath as your heart raced.

**But you won't know unless you give it a try** Ransom whispered over your lips before kissing you gently. You broke down allowing him to invade your mouth. His lips felt soft and his firm arms a welcome feeling as they wrapped around you.

The elevator dinged loudly and you pulled back. Your lipstick smeared on his mouth made for a funny sight. Looking at the number it was your floor then back at him.

**Give it a try** Ransom pleaded.

A switch flipped inside you. Angry at yourself you pushed past him and marched to your hotel room.

He is just a spoiled rich kid trying to have fun. Don't fall for it. You try and convince yourself.

He shouted as the doors closed and you tried to ignore him.

**Cupid doesn't lie**

He shouted again. You halted, but refused to look.

"All men lie" You stopped as you replied back at him. There wasn't a woman in your life that wasn't hurt and you didn't want to join that club. You wanted to protect yourself at all cost. You heard the elevator doors close so you let out a sigh of relief.

What if you were wrong. What if he was right? A nagging thought bubbled in your mind. He was fun, you felt at easy around him. Some part of you yearned for him to come back.

You were so lost in your own head that you hadn't heard him rush up behind you. Ransom quickly spun you around, his eyes boring into your soul. The sight of which made it hard to stay angry.

**"Oh baby, true love won't lie...But we won't know unless we give it a try"**

He kissed you again. This time more hungry than before, so much so it took your breath away as he pulled back.

**"Give it a try"** he pleaded yet again.

It was hard to get the door open with Ransom latched onto your face. Fumbling with the key you tried blindly several times to get the card in the slot with your back pressed hard against the door.

Frustrated Ransom snatched the card and opened the door for you.

"Thanks Daddy" you teased, looking up through your lashes at him.

"Daddy huh?" The grin that grew on his face was devilish indeed. "So that's it...You act all bratty to get Daddy to react. Huh?"

Scooping you off your feet he carried you across the threshold. You were so surprised that he was able to handle your weight with ease, as he walked you over to the bed, before tossing you.

"Keep the dress on and pull your tits out" he command as he furiously unbuttoned his shirt.

You marveled at the fit rocker. He revealed more tats as he opened his shirt. Pushing down your off the shoulder strap you yanked your top down. Your half bra going down with it, allowing your breast to bounce free.

"Stand up."

Without a word you rose to your feet.

"Turn around."

Again you followed his orders. The way he commanded you made your need soak through your panties.

"Gonna come deep in that pretty pussy, show you who you belong to" Ransom taunted into the shell of your ear. "Say ahh."

The neck tie that had long since come undone was now being wrapped around your open mouth, wrapping it  quickly then knotting the fabric.  

Once secure Ransom proceeded to massage your breast from behind. As he tweaked your nipples you felt his cock, hard and stiff pressed into your ass.

You pushed and rubbed against it toying with him, the hum that buzzed from his lips almost sounded primal. "Nothing but a big tease huh? Daddy's going to show you what he thinks about teases."

Pushing you over on the bed you yelped through your gag. Looking over your shoulder you watched as Ransom bunched up the fabric of your dress, tossing it over your hips to expose your ass.

Feeling cocky you twerked your ass before him, the look in his eye showed that he approved of the sight. Ransom palmed your cheeks with both his hands, kneading the soft tissue as he rubbed his erection on you.

One hand moved around your hips and on the outer-lining of your panties.

"Fuck baby girl is that all for me?" Ransom's finger pulled at the elastic that touched your bud. He felt the drenched panties and pulled them back until they snapped back in place.

"Fuck baby girl" he purred.

Ransom lowered himself onto his hunches, pulling your panties down with them. You felt his tongue lapping gently at your folds. The sensation sending shivers throughout your body.

His tongue separated your lips, you knees wanted to cave at the tantalizing feel of him. Through your gag you moaned, the slow torture of his feasting was bringing you close to the finish line.

Ransom sucked hard on your bare mound adding a finger as he rose to his feet. "You taste so sweet baby." He praised as he curled his fingers inside of you.

"Do you want to come on my cock or my fingers?" He asked as your cunt tensed around his digits. Ransom knew you were getting close and you hoped he would choose the former.

"I cant hear you" he added another digit as you begged through your gag. You wanted to feel him all of him, but there was no way to make your answer clear through the fabric.

"Well, if you are not going to answer I will pick for you."

Ransom knew what you wanted, even with your desperate mumbling. Kicking your legs father apart he then removed his fingers. You whimpered at the lack of touch, but you were also thrilled to finally get what you really wanted.

The sound of his zipper going down made you antsy. You danced on the heels of your feet with anticipation of his next move.

Ransom took his cock in one hand while he spread one of your cheeks with the other. He rubbed his cock against the deep pink within your folds.

Toying with you as you mumbled through the tie. His pre-cum mixed with your juices as he pressed his tip hard against your opening.

"Are you gonna be a good girl from me?" He teased. You furiously nodded 'yes'.

You felt the pressure of him entering you as drool seeped past your gag. "Do you belong to me?" He halted, the sudden stop drove you crazy. Again you nod and shouted 'yes' through your restraint.

"Good girl."

Ransom filled you to your core, only stopping when you sheathed him completely. You gripped the fabric of the hotel duvet, you hadn't expected him to be so big.

The slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room. His moans mixed with the sounds of your sloppy sex were enough to send you over the edge.

Ransom controlled the pace, his length undeterred by your lack of space to take him in. You cried through your gag as he sent jolts through your body. "You were made for me" he proclaimed as he snapped his hips into you.

Your mewls were muffled by the tie, but you were sure whoever was in the room next to you could still make out what was happening here.

"Fuck" he growled as he fucked you into the bed. "I'm gonna fill you up."

"Gonna make you nice and round" he slapped your ass as he thrusted. You felt your core tighten.

"Fuck Daddy I want to come on your cock!" You finally shouted as the gag finally slipped from your lips.

"Come in me Daddy!" You felt him twitch inside you at your desperate pleading.

"Oh baby girl your tempting me."

"Please!" You panted.

"Fuck" Ransom shouted as he shot his load inside you. You felt him coat you as you milked him dry.

Ransom fell on-top of you and your knees buckled, causing you both to fall forward onto the bed. Ransom moved off you, sweaty and exhausted. "Don't think that I'm done with you yet."

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 2]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married. To make matters even more difficult for them, they were from two different walks of life, with (Y/n) being the Prime Minister’s daughter, and Kyōjurō being the heir to his clan’s Yakuza group.

Warnings: Smut, Kabedon, Groping, Making Out, Marking

Chapter 1| Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

***

No matter how much (Y/n) tried to shake the memory of those piercing eyes from her mind, she never could forget just how hauntingly beautiful they were— especially when they were trained so hard on her the night before.

It was why she had made a hasty escape; tucking tail and practically shoving her champagne glass at a waiter, before making up some halfhearted excuse about forgetting a prior engagement.

She could tell that the ladies she had been with were skeptic of her reasons, but had still let her go; just in time, as well, because Kyōjurō would have gotten to her if they had tried to keep her any longer.

Still, hours after that ordeal— even while she laid on her bed— with the warm, morning rays of the sun shining down on her through her windows, she could still feel the less-than-proper intent behind them. They were the eyes of a predator; someone who was silently telling her that he was going to devour her.

And if she were being honest, it scared and thrilled her at the same time.

“Hopefully, I’ll never have to see him again,” The young woman whispered to herself, right before closing her eyes and stretching her limbs outwards; it felt so good on her tired muscles. But her peaceful time alone was cut short with a soft but firm knock on her door.

“Good morning, (Y/n)-sama.” She almost groaned aloud at the sound of her temporary secretary’s voice; wishing to all hell that she were back in her university dorm— protected by a bodyguard, but still living with relative privacy.

But, unfortunately, it was summer break and she was obligated to stay at the Prime Minister’s residence; much like how her brothers were also required to live there when they weren’t living at their dorms. And, being the youngest— as well as the only girl— out of three children, her father was much stricter on her.

(Y/n) sighed then, deciding not to stall any longer and calling out a flat ‘come in’. It was then followed by the quiet creaking of the door, as well as the soft footsteps coming towards her bed.

As much as the young woman still wanted to just go back to sleep, she decided not to be difficult and opened her eyes— only for them to fall on Rin. She was a frail woman in her mid-thirties, looking very strict with her neatly pressed uniform; but it was her severely tight bun that had (Y/n) and her siblings knowing that the woman meant business at first glance.

“Good morning, Rin-san, may I know my schedule for today?” (Y/n) asked with a forced smile, knowing full well that she had a full roster for that day— what with her mother forking over some small charity appearances over to her and her brothers; all to show the people that they were very much active in society, despite also being busy with their own passion projects.

Rin nodded at that, before referring down to her clipboard and flipping a page— which had (Y/n)’s eyebrows quirking, since she saw so many things highlighted on one of her brothers’ schedule sheets.

“Your schedule has been cleared today, (Y/n)-sama.” That explained why she saw all those neon yellow lines on the pages before hers, but that had her stomach tightening with apprehension; because having a clear schedule at the last minute didn’t really bring good things.

“And why is that?”

“The Prime Minister has requested an audience with you for brunch, and he asked that you clear your schedule for the rest of the day to entertain his guest.”

Suddenly, she wanted to switch schedule with either one of her brothers. Hell, she would have rather been giving speeches and kissing babies, if it got her out of whatever clown show her father was about to put her through.

“Can I get out of this brunch?”

“No, Miss.”

“Alright, then. What time is this… fiasco? Nine-thirty? Ten? And do I already have something to wear for it?”

***

Who comes in late to meet the Prime Minister? The barbed thoughts reverberated around within (Y/n)’s head, as she presented a calm and collected façade for the world to see.

The dress she wore was modest enough for brunch, but with a touch of sexiness that had her quirking an eyebrow at the stern Rin when it had been handed to her earlier. Because, normally, Rin had her dressed up with the most modest of dresses; it would have been enough to put any miko to shame.

That already had her mind reeling with possibilities, yet she didn’t dare jump on any of them— since there were also numerous other things that could happen. Nothing was impossible, what with her being the daughter of Japan’s Prime Minister, after all.

For all she knew, she could be meeting the Prince of Wales with her father.

“Are we meeting Prince Charles, otou-sama? I didn’t brush up on my English last night,” She whispered to her father, who stifled his laughter and dabbed his table napkin to his lips— if only to muffle his humorous chuckles.

Yorihiko, (Y/n)’s father, turned to her then— before lowering his table napkin back down to his lap and showing her his bright grin. For someone who was in his mid-sixties, he still looked as youthful as ever. And, save for the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes— as well as the greying hair atop his head— she would have gandered him as not a day over fifty. “Not the Prince of Wales, (Y/n)-chan, but someone who will be much more important to this family in the future.”

Maybe it was just her being a little chilly, but she felt shivers race down her spine at those ominous words. However, she couldn’t even collect herself before the butler announced that their long-awaited guest was finally there.

And she had to try really hard to pick her jaw up from the ground when she saw two heads of blond hair coming out into the garden. The one she knew as Rengoku Kyōjurō wore a crisp, black suit with a blood red tie— one that matched his eyes and hair very well; while the older man next to him wore a formal kimono with a sleek, black haori perched on his shoulders.

“The yakuza, otou-sama?” (Y/n) whisper-yelled at her father, who only gave her a nod before getting up from his seat— all while smoothly laying his table napkin on the table— so he could greet their guests.

She followed suit immediately, but she couldn’t help her unsteady legs as she walked around the table and gave the Rengokus a small bow. “Welcome to our home, dear guests.”

“Don’t be too stiff, daughter; call me otou-sama,” The older man spoke in a gruff tone, smirking all the while as he looked at (Y/n).

The young woman couldn’t even speak, but managed a small nod— right before turning to the man that she had been under just the night before. A chorus of “oh no”s kept playing inside her head, but she couldn’t even voice out her panic, nor her disapproval at whatever arrangement had been arranged between her and the Yakuza heir.

“How about we have our meal as we talk, Shinjurō? And then we can leave the kids to be acquainted?” Yorihiko suggested with a bright smile, all while motioning over to the table that he and (Y/n) had been sitting at earlier.

It already burned (Y/n) to even be in the same vicinity as the man who had been between her legs just the night before, but it burned her even more when he smirked right at her— before offering his arm to her; as if he was the perfect gentleman.

And with her being who she was, couldn’t even turn him down. So, she found herself slipping a hand into the crook of his arm; holding on to him as he walked her back to the table. To make matters even worse for her, he even pulled out her chair for her, before helping her sit down.

That action hadn’t been done for mere chivalry, however, as Kyōjurō took it as a chance to whisper right by her ear, “It’s nice to see you again, baby. You look really… fuckable in that dress.”

“Fuck you.” (Y/n) managed to whisper back, which earned a sexy little chuckle from the blond.

He wanted nothing more than to pull her by the hair and make her face him, just so he could kiss her breathless and show her that he wasn’t to be messed with, but they were in front of company, and he didn’t want to disrespect her like that in front of their fathers.

After all, he was going to be his wife. And he was always taught that Rengokus respected their wives above all else.

“You almost did, baby. Maybe on the honeymoon, though,” Kyōjurō whispered back with a grin, before finally pulling away and taking the empty seat right next to her— much to (Y/n)’s chagrin.

Lunch passed by in a blur for (Y/n), however; with conversation being led by the two patriarchs. She was nothing more than a spectator at the table, since she was still trying to wrap her head around what was happening.

And, from what she could catch, she and Kyōjurō really were arranged to be married. In this day and age, arranged marriages were such an archaic concept but, apparently, the Rengokus had a lot to do with her father getting the Prime Minister position— and he owed them a lot.

So, now that the Rengokus are being pinned with crimes that weren’t their doings— and with Shinjurō facing multiple life sentences if things aren’t resolved— they had to cash in that favor with (Y/n)’s father.

After all, what better way to clear someone’s name, than to get related through marriage to the very man who signs them? No other man’s vouch could be stronger that the Prime Minister’s; if he said that he trusted the Rengokus enough to have his only daughter marry into their family, then all those pending cases would be dismissed as nothing more than baseless accusations.

(Y/n) had always known that her father was involved with all kinds of people, but she had never even had an inkling that he had been rubbing elbows with the Yakuza— of all people.

***

Once brunch was over— with her food having been barely touched— the patriarchs left both (Y/n) and Kyōjurō in the garden to ‘get acquainted’. However, (Y/n) had much more different things in mind, so she got up from her seat and tossed her table napkin onto the table; all before making hasty escape back into the house.

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows quirked at his fiancée’s actions, but it didn’t dampen the smirk that tugged up at the corners of his lips; as he watched her hips swaying so seductively a few ways away from him.

Last night, he had been pissed to have seen her walking away from him— and that time was no different, but it posed an extremely exciting challenge that he was more than willing to take on.

So, that was how he found himself getting up from his own seat and following after her— but not before glaring right at the guards that had been about to keep him from following her.

That kept them right in their places, which was good enough for him— and had him resuming his leisurely stroll right behind his charismatic bride-to-be.

But she didn’t get to go much farther than the back door of the mansion; as Kyōjurō quickly took his chance to press her back against the wall— making sure to cushion the back of her head, as he caged her in with his right arm and his body.

“Don’t walk away from me, baby,” Kyōjurō stated with a smile; right before dipping his head down to brush his lips against hers in the faintest of kisses.

That move didn’t fail to make (Y/n)’s toes curls right in her heels, but she tried so hard to ignore the tingles that were shooting across her skin; even taking to looking at anywhere but at Kyōjurō.

All because the events from the night before were playing in her mind— hot, raunchy, and filled with so much lust for him.

But the blond wasn’t deterred by her reaction at all, coming to press his hips right against her— and making her feel the bulge that was slowly growing bigger beneath his pants.

“Come on, sweetheart. Kiss me like you did last night,” The young man teased once more, then dipped his head down to catch her lips once more‚ but in a much deeper kiss that, inevitably, had (Y/n) melting against him; especially when he lightly tugged at her hair, all while gently nipping at her bottom lip.

All the while, his right hand snaked itself down to cup her right hip; kneading it in a gentle massage, before slipping down further so he could cup her ass. He then gave it a squeeze, which had her gasping right into their kiss; giving him enough time to slip his tongue right between her lips, all so he could play with her own.

When Kyōjurō felt her responding to his kisses— much like how she was last night— he took that as his chance to tease her even further by pulling away; latching on to her neck and trailing kisses down to the crook where her neck met her shoulders— and biting down on the skin, before sucking on it to leave a love bite.

He wasn’t contented with just one, however, and found himself leaving more of his marks all over her neck as well. Every single one had her moaning softly and, somewhere along the way, one of her hands had made its way onto the back of his own head— where she was gripping his hair tightly.

She was really melting under his touch, and he loved it so much.

And things only made a turn for the better when he quickly bunched the back of her dress up with the hand that had been groping her ass, before slipping his hand down further so he could cup her pussy from behind; grinning when he felt her so wet beneath her underwear.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, all while rubbing the tips of his fingers against her soaked entrance; loving the way that her fingers kept tightening and loosening on his hair— especially the subtle way that she was trying to rub her pussy up against his cock.

(Y/n) was silent at first— refusing to give in and answer him— until the blond readjusted his hand and made quick work of slipping it up the front of her dress; right before pushing her panties aside and pinching her clit between his index and middle fingers. The move had her hips jerking involuntarily, and also had her moaning softly when Kyōjurō began to play with the little bud.

“…Please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

(Y/n) was just about to give in and actually beg him to fuck her right there— up against the side of her father’s residence— when all sense came crashing down on her and she yanked on Kyōjurō’s hair… hard. “Get off of me!”

It was clear on Kyōjurō’s face that that move had pissed him off, but he couldn’t help but obey (Y/n)’s words— albeit reluctantly. And he wanted to just scowl at her, but the sight of her looking so disheveled had him laughing; outright laughing, as he took in her messed up lipstick and crazy hair.

The glare that (Y/n) was aiming right at him looked mildly threatening, but it was the best she could do— especially when she heard the blond’s attractive laughter. How a laugh could be attractive, she didn’t know; it just was— and it was highly unfair, since he already had such a handsome face.

Even the fresh love bites all over her neck and shoulders added to her ‘just fucked’ look, diminishing the aggressiveness in her expression even more, and that pleased Kyōjurō so much.

He couldn’t wait until he really messed her up. He’d make sure that she wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed in the morning.

[redrobin-detective]

Delayed Mourning

Going Angst Day 5: Death

_________________________________________

It was 3pm when there was a knock on Maddie Fenton’s door. She huffed and set down the meal she’d been working on. Of course the one day she had time to pre-plan a nice meal from her family was the day she’d get interrupted. 

“Yes? May I help you?” Maddie asked, opening the door. She had expected a salesman. Possibly even a neighbor coming to complain, again, about the noise or the smells that came from Fentonworks. Instead she found a small woman who couldn’t have been much taller than 5 ft with dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was wearing a sharp white shirt and suit jacket with a matching white skirt.

“Mrs. Fenton, hello,” the woman gave a polite little head nod. “I’m from the the Government Institute of Interdimensional Warfare though I hear the locals like to call us the Guys in White.” She said with a knowing smiling, “of course, as you know, it’s not only the guys who are interested in ghosts. May I come in?”

“Oh yes, hello,” Maddie blinked, opening the door to let the agent in. The petite woman stepped inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her small frame, her oversized glasses and soft nature seemed so at odds with the meatheads Maddie usually found in the GIW. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Perhaps,” the agent demurred. “It’s more there was something I wanted to inform you of. If you’re not too busy, may we sit down and talk? Your husband and children are not home.” Maddie thought that last statement was a bit odd, framed as a statement of fact rather than an inquiry but moved on. 

“Yes, Jack’s out of town visiting a relative and my kids won’t be back for a little while,” Maddie said. “Let me just finish putting this roast together, I’m almost done. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” The woman said quietly. “And please, continue while you’re doing. Let me give you a little bit of background.” The agent adjusted her large glasses with her tiny hands. “Let me introduce myself, you may call me Agent S. I work primarily out of Washington for the Institute but sometimes I am deployed on site for... special cases. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, your town is very special.”

“Now, as you may have noticed, I am not particularly built like the normal Institute agents you have probably come across. That is because I do not work in the field but behind the scene in Investigations. My job is study the history and happenings of hauntings and spectral entities.”

“Oh that sounds fascinating,” Maddie beamed as she finished with her final preps and put the roast in the over. She looked over her shoulder at Agent S while she washed her hands. “Jack and I dabble a bit in history and folklore but we’re more versed in the hard sciences of ghosts.”

“Yes, I’ve read some of your papers, you and your husband truly are the frontrunners in the field,” Agent S nodded. Maddie preened at the praise and sat down, delighted to have a sophisticated conversation with someone in her field who she wasn’t married to. If more of those GIW agents were like Agent S then Maddie would get along a lot better with them. “So, Maddie, may I call you Maddie? What date and time did your portal start working?”

“It was August 28th,” Maddie said proudly. “It didn’t work at first when we first plugged it in. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact time it started up as we weren’t here. Jack was convinced one of the electrical conduction pieces wasn’t fully connected and was preventing ectoplasmic distribution. We ended up driving 4 hours to Springfield and back for some specialty parts only to find the portal working when we returned.”

“I can help you there,” Agent S said with a soft smile reaching into her white briefcase and pulling out several thick folders. She laid them out gently on the table and Maddie was unnerved by some of the information: schematics of Fentonworks, past and present financial records, transcripts of public statements. Her shoulders tensed when she saw Jazz and Danny’s names on some of the files. “Toll camera captured your vehicle on the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway at exactly 1:26pm on August 28th. We can confirm you and your husband’s vehicle traveled to Springfield and back via video feeds and credit card statements at 10:45pm that same day and were therefore out of the city all day.”

Maddie suddenly felt very trapped by the woman’s sharp grey eyes as she plucked a piece of paper and pressed it towards Maddie. 

“At 3:18pm, the majority of the residential power in town went out for a period of 2 and a half hours. The cause was determined to be from a massive power surge that blew out the transformer. You may recall being blamed for this outage given your history with previous outages but the news that you were out of town settled that argument. However, I was not convinced.” She pulled out another piece of paper and Maddie bristled to see it was a Casper High attendance sheet.

“Your daughter, Jasmine was at her final summer cram session which ran from 2pm until 5pm. I spoke to her tutors and she never left the whole time and, in fact, stayed late to help a fellow student work through her study materials. But what about your son?” Agent S asked with with a curious smile but her eyes belied the fact that she had her own answers. 

“How dare you spy on my family, on my children,” Maddie hissed, crumpling one of the papers in her fist. “Get out of my house, I will sue the pants off of your organization for this invasion of privacy! Get out!”

“Now Maddie, don’t you want to know how your son started up your Portal?” Agent S asked coyly, that drew Maddie up short. Danny? No, he couldn’t have possibly. He had no interest in their work, in fact, now that she thought about it, Danny had been sick that day. Agent S pulled out a set of blueprints for the Fenton Portal. Some small component inside the Portal was circled.

“You left at approximately 1pm and your daughter presumably left not long after. Phone records indicate Daniel called both Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. Your neighbor, Mrs. Benson, saw them coming into your house not long after but before the 3pm power outage which I was able to triangulate did in fact originate from your home.” Agent S tapped the circled part of the inner portal mechanisms. “Now did you happen to push the on button in the Portal before plugging it in?”

“On button?” Maddie asked with a dry mouth, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown her way. All she could think about was how Danny hadn’t seemed sick when they’d left that afternoon but had looked awful when they returned. Would he have really gone downstairs and messed with the Portal? Had he gotten hurt? Been contaminated down there? Images of Vlad’s sickly visage after his accident flowed through her head. She should have paid more attention but she’d been so excited about the Portal working...

“It’s right here in the blueprints you submitted to the patent office, buried under dozens of other hardware bits. Its small, such a little thing compared to all the moving parts required to open up a dimensional portal. Daniel was a bright boy, his middle school records prove it. A bright mind, friends to impress, no parents around to chastise him... I think you can see where I’m going with this.”

“No, no,” Maddie said, burying her hands in her hair. “No, I’m not. You’re saying -what? - that my teenage son turned on the Portal when we were gone? No, my Danny wouldn’t lie to me about that... Why wouldn’t he say anything?”

“I don’t blame him for not mentioned in because, if my hunch is correct, he was inside the Portal when it turned on, killing him instantly,” Agent S said with a carefully neutral face. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid this haunting has gone on long enough.”

“My child is alive!” Maddie screeched, standing up in her chair. “Danny is alive and healthy and he is not a ghost!”

“I will admit the evidence of how he died is circumstantial but the fact that Danny Fenton is deceased is not.” Maddie fell back into her chair as he legs gave out underneath her. 

She watched the agent put paper after paper in front of her and detailed all sorts of data about her son that Maddie, who lived in the same house as him, had missed. Unusually high ectosignatures picked up by GIW (and their own) detectors, Danny being spotted in some form before most ghost attacks, faked signatures of hers getting him out of nurses’ visits. Maddie barely felt alive herself as she stared at a red light camera photo of her baby sitting atop a light post late, late at night. His eyes were a toxic green color.

“I know this must be distressing as a mother but your child never left that basement, never attended high school and will never achieve his dream of working for NASA.” Agent S said with carefully measured sympathy as she gathered up her papers and put them back in her case. “But you are a brilliant scientist, unlike your husband, you should be able to look past your emotions and see that your child is gone and the ghost he left behind is dangerous.”

“My husband?” Maddie asked blankly, running a finger down Danny’s unnatural photograph.

“I approached Jack two days ago, mistakenly believing he would be the most understanding of you both. He refused to believe the evidence and was, in fact, going to warn your son’s ghost that we planned on taking him. He is safe but he presently being held at one of our facilities until the capture is complete.” Maddie should feel outraged at her husband’s kidnapping but all she could think about was the fact that her son was dead, dead, dead, killed by her own invention over a year ago and she never noticed. How could she not have noticed?

“Daniel’s ghost is extraordinary, not only able to pass as human so accurately for so long but immensely powerful. We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else. Think of his friends who are probably being forced to aid him and keep his death quiet. Think of your husband, your daughter, living in the same house as a dangerous ghost.” Agent S dropped some of her professionalism and plucked the photo of Danny out of Maddie’s hands and replaced it with her own tiny hand. 

“I know this is impossible thing to ask but I must do it anyway, will you help me capture what remains of Danny? There is a chance with his charade exposed, he will be able to move on and so will you. You have been wronged, Maddie. You have been denied the right to process and grieve your child by his own ghost. But a delayed mourning is better than none. Danny’s death is a tragedy but please don’t let it become someone else’s.”

“Maybe he’s not-” Maddie’s breath hitched, “he’s never shown any signs of aggression. Jasmine spoke of benevolent spirits... maybe-” Agent S sighed roughly and retracted her hand to grab another photo from her case. Maddie was surprised when she held up a picture of Phantom. 

“Ignore the glow,” Agent S instructed. “Change his white hair to black, his green eyes to blue. Think of how often Phantom is spotted in your neighborhood, around Casper High. Remember how he always has his hands on your technology,” the agent frowned. “Think of how he grins when he sees you, like he knows something you don’t. Like it all just a big joke you’re not a part of.” Maddie felt like she’d been slapped.

“Your son is dead,” Agent S said more forcefully, throwing the picture of Phantom next to the spooky one of Danny. “And his ghost has taken his place, taunting you, stealing energy from your family, from the portal that killed him. Phantom’s power is increasing too rapidly and soon we won’t be able to contain him. It’s why I was brought in to identify his haunt so that he could be stopped before anyone else died.”

“I will state this plainly, I am giving you the chance to participate in putting your child to rest but you are not required for this operation. If you refuse, you will be confined with your husband until Phantom is taken down. Do not let this monster with your son’s face trick you any more. So I ask again, Maddie Fenton, will you help us stop Phantom from making a mockery of your son’s memory?”

XxX

“Mom! Jazz! I’m home!” Danny announced, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a paper out of his backpack as he walked into the kitchen with a grin. “And I have a present! Jazz’s tutoring paid off, look at this A I got on my history test! Well A- but a solid A-!” 

“Oh... that’s great,” Mom muttered quietly. She was sitting at the kitchen table, not cooking or tinkering with some gadget. Just sitting there quietly, twiddling her thumbs and not looking at him.

“Is everyone okay?” Danny asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to his mother. “I saw Jazz at school but is Dad okay?”

“No, everything is not okay,” she said turning and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Someone died, someone I love dearly and I’m not ready to let them go,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But they've been gone for a long time, even if I’m just hearing about it now. I’m upset but it’s better to know and be grieve than to go on in ignorance, living a lie.”

Danny was about to ask who had died when something was jammed into his neck and he was shocked within an inch of his half life. His body spasmed to escape but his mother was gripping his arm to hold him in place. He transformed unconsciously but that only made it worse. He fell to the floor, ectoplasm leaking off his form as he could barely hold himself together.

“Mom,” he croaked, reaching for her despite everything. She stomped on his hand which was practically goo from such a vicious, destabilizing ectoplasmic shock.

“Don’t you ever call me that,” she hissed through angry tears. “I didn’t want to believe it but the proof is right in front of me you horrible, selfish ghost.” She kicked him in the side and half of him ended up on her boot. “How dare you, how dare you impersonate my son! How dare you string me along all this time, make me look like a fool who had to told that her own child was dead! I bet you just laughed and laughed at our stupid, human ignorance of what your were!”

“‘lease,” he begged through the ectoplasm in his mouth. “I’m still your....”

“My son is dead and he has been for a while,” Mom said, throwing the ecto-taser away from her. Danny vaguely heard the door being kicked in and in his rapidly diminishing vision, he saw black boots and white suits. “With you gone, I can finally come to terms with it and not be tormented by an inadequate replacement.” She turned her back to him. “Get that filth out of my house, I never want to see it again.”

“Of course,” a quiet feminine voice said as his goopy arms were restrained with ghost proof cuffs. “I know this is hard, Maddie but you made the right choice for your family and Danny’s memory. Jack will returned to you within the hour. I spoke to my superiors, for your cooperation, the Institute will take care of declaring Danny dead as well as covering costs for your boy to be laid to rest, the first step in moving on.”

“No, the first step will be removing that duplicitous monster from my home. It’s stolen enough of my baby’s life. Now please leave, I have - I have a funeral to plan.”

[ibijau]

Here's a prompt: Lan Xichen somehow dies while in seclusion—or at least that's what the rumors say—and Nie Huaisang deals with the consequences. And heartbreak. As the saying goes, you don't realize how much you love someone until they're gone.

Okay, if that sort of plot interests you, do yourself a favour and check Between the Shadow and the Soul which is exactly that. It's an amazing xisang fic, I cannot recommend it warmly enough!

And now:

Warning in this fic for a lot of references to suicide and depression

It struck Nie Huaisang as interesting that he felt so little about the whole thing. His reaction upon learning the news had been first to dismiss it as a joke in poor taste. Once it had been confirmed, and his presence had been required, he'd been too busy planning his trip to give it much thought. Then he'd arrived in the Cloud Recesses, just in time for the funeral, and gone through the motions of what was expected of him. At most he'd felt mildly when asked to keep vigil, as if there was still any connection between them. He'd only agreed for the sake of appearances, refused to look at the body, and gave his seat to the next mourner as soon as was polite.

The ceremony itself was conducted to perfection, as could be expected of the Lans. Every word was said the right way, every gesture graceful. It was almost a beautiful thing to behold, Nie Huaisang distantly thought. Lan Qiren's monotone voice was better suited for such events than for teaching, certainly. And Lan Wangji had always looked his best when in the throes of loss and despair. Sadness just became those Lans a little too well, as if they'd been born for tragedy.

Perhaps they were.

Nie Huaisang did not dwell on the subject, and allowed time to pass him by until at last the ceremony was entirely over. He would have gone home right then if he could have, his duty accomplished, but it would have been noticed and discussed. Nie Huaisang did not want to get mixed up in the gossip that was sure to spread around after this.

“Did they tell anyone what he died of?” Sect Leader Yao asked in a too loud whisper while waiting for the refreshment promised to the guests.

“I've only heard that because of his seclusion, it took them several days to even notice he had passed,” Sect Leader Ouyang replied. Then, noticing Nie Huaisang standing alone nearby, he gestured at him to join them. Nie Huaisang tried to pretend he hadn't seen them, but it was in vain as Sect Leader Ouyang called him by name until he couldn't be ignored anymore. “Join us please! You were his friend, weren't you? Surely you must know more than us.”

It was a sign of the hollowness that had seized Nie Huaisang since learning of the news that he did not laugh. What friends they had been indeed. Once, perhaps... but no, the word would never have been right to describe them. They were acquaintances at best, brought together out of love for Mingjue, torn apart after his death even if Lan Xichen hadn't known it then.

He'd learned it, in time.

Two years earlier, when Nie Huaisang had finally given a proper funeral to his brother, Lan Xichen had tried to talk to him about everything that had happened. Lan Xichen had wanted the truth, and he'd certainly gotten it. Nie Huaisang, bitter and angry and broken after going through the pain of burying his brother again, had not spared the other man a single detail of everything he'd done, everything he'd learned, everything he'd felt.

Two weeks after that, Lan Xichen had entered seclusion and they'd never met again, unless one counted what little time Nie Huaisang had spent with the other man's coffin.

Nie Huaisang did not think it counted.

“I have not been told anything more than anyone else,” Nie Huaisang said, more careful than the other two to keep his voice down.

“It is just too odd,” Sect Leader Yao said. “A man his age doesn't die without reason, and his cultivation was far too great to allow for sickness!”

“Surely I don't know what Yao-zongzhu might be suggesting.”

“I am just saying it is very odd,” Sect Leader Yao insisted, glancing toward Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji with what he had to consider a knowing expression.

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang said.

They were thinking Lan Xichen had been murdered, then.

It was amazing, he thought, that anyone could misunderstand Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji this much. Perhaps the second's reputation was no longer as pristine as it had once been, due to his open association with the Yiling Patriarch, but he could hardly have been accused of killing his brother when he profited so little from his death. It was to Lan Qiren that the title of Sect Leader went, something which had been decided long ago, and which Lan Wangji would have known. Not that Lan Wangji would ever have wanted such a title. And as to accusing Lan Qiren of murdering his nephew, it was ridiculous. There were few men in the world whose honour Nie Huaisang believed in, but Lan Qiren was definitely of the number.

If it was not an ordinary sickness that had killed Lan Xichen, and it was not another person either, then it left only one option.

The Lans tended to easily fall prey to melancholy, Lan Xichen had once told Nie Huaisang, during one of those rare true and sincere conversations between them, when they had both bared more of their soul to the other than they'd intended. And that melancholy was a powerful sort, Lan Xichen had explained, more dangerous than any disease, any war, any demon. The way he had spoken of it had made it clear that Lan Xichen himself particularly struggled with it ever since becoming Sect Leader during the war, a struggle he hid under a mask no less carefully crafted than Nie Huaisang’s. Lan Xichen had told him he thought that melancholy would overcome him someday as it had done others in his family, an affliction no less powerful than that the Nie suffered.

So it was clear to Nie Huaisang that the manner of Lan Xichen's death was...

His whole body shook as he hurriedly fought to contain a sob.

“Nie-zongzhu?” Sect Leader Ouyang said with concern. “Are you unwell?”

Nie Huaisang shook his head. He was fine. He was unaffected. They'd never even been close.

Another sob had to be contained.

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath, and smiled weakly.

“Nothing dramatic,” he said with a voice he scarcely recognised as his own. “A moment of... I have known him for so long.”

“Of course. This must be hard on you. He must have been like a brother to you.”

Nie Huaisang made a noise. A sob, or a laugh, he could not have said, but it was too loud and attracted more attention than he cared to deal with. Having spent the last couple of years carefully working to undo the damage he had done to his own reputation, Nie Huaisang could not have born to be seen crying in public, something he now felt the danger of. He muttered some vague apology to the two men standing near him, and excused himself from the assembly. He managed to keep himself in check until he had left everyone behind, and only broke into tears when he was sure to be alone.

Gone was the numbness that had so puzzled him since hearing that Lan Xichen had been found dead, because the full horror of that loss finally hit him.

Lan Xichen was gone.

Lan Xichen was dead.

He would never again come by the Unclean Realm in answer to a desperate plea for help that never really needed his input. There would be no more praises of Nie Huaisang's birds, his fans, his paintings. No more gentle comforting and undeserved patience.

Lan Xichen was dead.

And if Nie Huaisang had acted with less cruelty, Lan Xichen might not have killed himself.

-

Nie Huaisang, a month after returning home, wondered whether melancholy was a contagious ailment, and whether one might catch it from sitting near the corpse of a man who had died from it.

He made the mistake of asking Nie Liyan, his favourite cousin and heir, expecting her to laugh or tease him. Instead she gave him a most pitiful look, and told him that melancholy was most often caught in such a manner, especially if the corpse was that of a person held dear.

It had never occurred to Nie Huaisang to think that Lan Xichen might be dear to him. The man was merely there, full of good intentions and blind to the nature of those around him. They had shared pleasant moments together perhaps, but no more than Nie Huaisang had done with others. In fact, Nie Huaisang was quite sure he had laughed more with Jin Guangyao than with Lan Xichen. If asked, he might have admitted that he'd held warmer feelings than he ought to have toward the man who had so cruelly murdered his brother. But Lan Xichen?

Nie Huaisang would have been hard pressed to decide what he felt for the man while he was alive. Only in death was he forced to realise that Lan Xichen too had been an important figure in his life and, yes, perhaps dearer than he would have liked. But it was hard to hate a man such as Lan Xichen, he told Nie Liyan when the realisation became too bothersome to bear it alone. Nie Huaisang simply could not imagine that anyone in the world might have met Lan Xichen and not liked him.

“I've never understood what people saw in him,” Nie Liyan had just replied. “And I've told you as much many times, even before your brother's death. His looks were good but not to the degree everyone claimed, he smiled too much, and he spoke too much like a book.”

“That says more about your tastes than about his qualities,” Nie Huaisang retorted hotly.

“Perhaps. Or it says something about your tastes.”

That insolent answer had not pleasant Nie Huaisang, who had promptly changed the topic, and never breached it again with her.

-

The melancholy did not ease with time, but instead invited some friends to live with it in Nie Huaisang's heart.

Such as a sharp terror over the concept of his own mortality.

Nie Huaisang had always known he would die early. It ran in the family, and he'd seen it happen twice already to his own relative. Considering his own temper, his weak and unstable cultivation, Nie Huaisang had long feared that he would not even live long enough to see his brother avenged. This had made him frustrated with the slow pace he'd been forced to endure, which in turn had only had a worse effect on his general state. Things had improved after the death of Jin Guangyao, making Nie Huaisang hope he might perhaps make it to the venerable age of forty, something neither his brother nor his father had managed.

The death of Lan Xichen robbed him of that hope.

It was only, Nie Huaisang told himself, that the loss had reminded him people died of reasons other than familial curses or to pay the price of their hubris. Death, even for cultivators, was not an uncommon occurrence, so no man could leave his bed in the morning and be certain he would return to it at night. And if he were to die now, what would he have to show for it except a sect that still wouldn’t be treated seriously, and the blood on his hands?

That consideration was also an important one in making a decision. No matter how hard he tried, Nie Huaisang couldn’t seem to correct the reputation he had given his sect. When people talked about the changes happening in Qinghe Nie, the way it might has started to become reliable once more, they always felt the need to point out that it could be nothing more than a stroke of luck, something that was sure to return to normal very soon under Nie Huaisang’s poor guidance. It was a source of great annoyance to him that people now considered it normal for Qinghe Nie to be weak and useless, when not twenty years earlier it had been greater than Lanling Jin.

It would take a dramatic change for people to accept that Qinghe Nie was returning to its roots.

So Nie Huaisang told Nie Liyan that he would abdicate in her favour.

She was more than ready for this, he told her. They had been working in tandem since long before the death of Jin Guangyao, and she had proven multiple times that she would handle the position of Sect Leader better than he ever would. She was a good administrator, with great martial art skill, a cultivation level that was among the best in their generation. She was also an excellent teacher, and well liked by all the disciples, from young juniors who had never known their sect’s glorious days to elders who’d known Nie Huaisang’s father as a young child. Nie Huaisang and Nie Liyan had always agreed that she would succeed him if he died the way his family so often did, or whenever he would decide to give up on a position he had never wanted.

“Are you sure now is the right time?” Nie Liyan only asked him.

“There is no right time for these things. But Lanling Jin is still not quite stable yet, Gusu Lan is in the hands of an old friend, and Yunmeng Jiang is caught up in the Jins’ business. That means the three great sects won’t give you a hard time as you settle in, and I know you can handle the others.”

“And what will you do?”

“Travel, perhaps,” Nie Huaisang replied without conviction.

He had never planned for what he would do after handing her his title, and realised suddenly that he’d never expected to be alive for that. No matter how often they discussed the possibility of a quiet succession, Nie Huaisang had never really considered he would be luckier than his father and brother. Yet there he was, suddenly forced to accept that tomorrow was something that existed for him while also dreading the uncertainty of his own mortality.

Nie Liyan accepted his answer, and they set out to plan the succession, calculate the best possible date for it, and choose how to announce the news to other sects. They did not talk about Nie Huaisang’s future any further, for which he was grateful. He had a vague suspicion that Nie Liyan thought he intended to kill himself, which would explain why she kept suggesting he took a companion with him when he left.

Nie Huaisang promised to consider it. He even did wonder who in the world might be a travelling companion worth putting up with. Nobody from his own sect would do, as he thought they would quickly grow bored of any destination that might appeal to him. And there was no one left outside of Qinghe Nie who he felt close enough to. It was only a pity, he thought one night, that Lan Xichen had passed away, as he would have been a very interesting person to have on a journey. Someone who shared his sense of beauty and his love of great landscape, who would not complain if Nie Huaisang asked to stop and paint but might instead join him. And perhaps travelling in that manner might have lifted some of Lan Xichen’s melancholy in a way that locking himself up away from the world could never have done.

Perhaps it could have saved Lan Xichen.

Nie Huaisang slept little that night, half drowning on sorrows and what-if that could never come true.

Come morning, he told Nie Liyan that he would travel alone, and she did not insist.

-

Nie Huaisang left the Unclean Realm as soon as the succession ceremony was over so he wouldn’t have a chance to change his mind. He recently bought an excellent horse, and the animal was packed with whatever belongings could not be put inside a qiankun pouch. Nie Huaisang had money, he had clothes, everything needed to paint and write. He even had a destination in mind at last, one suggested to him by Lan Qiren, of all people. The old teacher, upon learning of his intention to step down, had written him a thoughtful letter wishing him the best of luck in his new life, inviting him to come and stay in the Cloud Recesses if he ever went that way so they might play weiqi together, and suggesting he should go visit Baidi in his exile, where he too might become inspired to write some poetry. Perhaps, Lan Qiren added, a place so rich in history would help him find new meaning to his life.

The idea had something romantic to it. More than that, though, Nie Huaisang remembered that several times over the course of their acquaintance, Lan Xichen had expressed a wish to visit the city, while always failing to find an excuse to do so. It seemed appropriate that Nie Huaisang’s first destination should be inspired by the man whose death had forced him to reconsider his own life.

So Nie Huaisang set out toward Baidi, and promised himself to enjoy his time there, for Lan Xichen’s sake as well as his own.

[all-my-love-for-harry]

part two of shy little boy! maybe a family says something to yn abt being a single mom and how harry is dating her, everyone hears, while her boy is on her hip, she gives him to harry and leaves upset. harry says something to the family member and yn little boy goes to find yn and harry does too :) love ur work

thank you for your ask! this is actually my first request ever so i'm very excited, i hope you like it. 🖤

you can find more of my shy little boy here

Usually, Y/N doesn't let people's comments affect her as she held so much pride in being a single mother.

But she was already feeling anxious about meeting the entire family, so her nerves were at the highest.

So far, Harry's aunts were very nice both to her and Artemis. They'd say he was the cutest child they've ever seen, and Y/N was very comfortable talking to them.

However, she couldn't say the same about some of the men.

She had Artemis on her hip as she walked towards where Harry was talking to one of uncles. It was passed six and he was a little too drunk.

The older man noticed her before Harry did, and he opened his arms as he exclaimed, "There she is! Harry here was talking about you" Y/N gave the man a half smile, never have really liked being around drunk people while her child was there. "How amazing is that you managed to tie up this one, uh?"

tie up?

"Must be nice having that security of a man again, right?" he spoke again. "You know, at first i thought it was ridiculous how my nephew would date a single mum?! Always thought they're desperate for-"

"That's enough" He barked, a frown on his face as he looked at his relative.

He quickly looked back at Y/N and his eyes softened when he say the tears forming in her eyes. He took a step closer to her but she only shook her head. Artemis looked at his mum, frowning when he also noticed she was upset.

Before someone could speak again, Y/N was quick to pass Artemis to Harry, who quickly took the child in his arms, arm under his bum to secure him.

Y/N turned around and walked fast inside of the house, trying to not look at the people who were giving her a sympathy look.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Harry was mad. Oh, he was furious. Family or not, how dare he speak to his girlfriend like that? "You had no right. No right to speak to her like that" He pointed a finger at his uncle, taking a step closer to him. "You have no idea how hard she works, she doesn't need me, not in the way you imply. Discredit her work as a parent just because she's a woman? I will not allow that"

At this point, everyone was watching them but Harry still didn't care. Gemma came running to him and grabbed his arm. "Harry, stop"

"Stop?! Did you hear what he told her?"

"C'mon, kid. I was joking, she seriously cannot be offended by it" the man scoffed.

"You called her a-"

"Harry" Gemma spoke sternly. "You have a kid with you" Harry almost forgot the extra weight he was carrying for a second and he turned to see Artemis, hiding at the crock of his neck.

He sighed, knowing that even if punched his uncle right on the face, he wouldn't even remember it in the morning as he was too drunk to even care about the feelings of the woman he had just offended.

"I want mummy" Artemis whispered to Harry, lifting his head to look at him. "Take me with mummy, please"

"Let's go find you mummy, baby" Gemma tried to take the boy from Harry's arms, but he refused.

"No, I want Harry!" Harry knew if he didn't get out of there soon, Artemis would throw a tantrum, and the last thing he wanted was both of his loves being upset.

He threw one last angry look at his uncle before turning around. He went in the same direction Y/N went, hoping to find her soon.

"She went outside" he heard someone say.

He quickly made his way out of his mother's house and started looking around for Y/N.

"Mummy! Mummy!" Artemis started squirming, wanting to be put down. "Harry, i want mummy!"

Harry obeyed, making sure to grab Artemis hand before he could run away. Y/N was in Harry's car, apparently getting their bags as she cursed to herself.

She was not going to cry. She felt like she could punch that man's face but she wouldn't, out of respect for Anne.

She still didn't understand how people could think that about single mothers. It wasn't the first time she has heard the same old you need the security only a man can provide but for some reason, coming from one of Harry's family member, it did hurt more.

What if more relatives thought she only wanted him for money?

"Baby, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

"I... uh, Artemis needs a shirt change, yes" She replied, struggling to talk due the anger still being palpable in her.

"Mummy..." the little boy let go of Harry's hand, taking small steps towards his mother.

"Mummy's okay, baby" she assured him.

"Baby, i am so sorry... i-it pains me to think he thought he could speak to you like that"

"It doesn't matter, H" she shrugged. "I just... don't want your family to think that i want something else from you aside from... well, you"

"No, no, no. No one thinks that, darling. Everyone loves you and Artemis. Fuck him"

Y/N raised her eyebrows, silently saying language.

"Fuck him?"

There he is. They looked down and found a confused five year old. "Who?"

"It's nothing, mate. Don't say that word" Harry chuckled nervously.

"You said it to the man when we were there" he pointed to Anne's house.

Well, damn.

"What did you say to him?" Y/N asked.

"Well, i defended you. No one speaks to you like that and expects for me to no f-... be mad about it"

"It's your family, you didn't have to"

"No, you two are my family. It's my job to be on your side" Harry pulled the two of them in a hug. "And when i said no one can disrespect you, i meant it. I don't care if it's my family or a stranger in the street"

Kissing both of their heads, he squeezed them closer to his chest. Yes, Y/N was lucky to have him in both Artemis and her lives, but so was Harry. He now has everything he's ever wanted and we was going to protect them until his very last breath.

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

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