#yeah uh chapter 8 is a bit. a bit worse. in that he’s like ‘i’m gonna die. there’s a joke in this’. whoops? i broke the boy someone help)

[flowercrowngods]

live footage actually

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️

——————

Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.

One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.

Ellie and Y/n.

Stay awake.

Men coming.

Leading them away.

Kill them.

The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.

Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.

They crept through the room.

He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.

Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he’d watched it happen.

After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.

Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.

—————————

Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.

She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.

David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.

“How is she?”

Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.

David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”

Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”

“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”

“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.

The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”

Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.

He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”

“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”

David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.

Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.

“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.

Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”

“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”

“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.

“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”

Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.

He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.

“But I stopped them.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.

“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.

Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”

“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”

As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.

“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.

“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.

David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”

Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.

“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”

David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.

“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”

Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.

Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.

“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.

“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“

Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.

Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.

Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.

It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.

Mom.

Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.

And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”

David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.

Joel wasn’t coming to save them.

They were on their own.

And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.

————————————

Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.

But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.

Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.

“Stop…stop, please…”

Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.

“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.

“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.

“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”

Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.

“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.

“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.

The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”

When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.

“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”

“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.

“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.

Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.

“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”

Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”

Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.

Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.

“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”

There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.

Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.

Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.

“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.

Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.

“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”

In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t the villain.

He was a father and a husband.

And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.

—————————

Ellie was relentless.

“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.

“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”

“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.

Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”

“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.

Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”

She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…

An ear.

An actual fucking ear.

In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.

David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”

Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.

“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.

“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”

Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.

“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.

“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.

“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”

“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.

“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.

“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.

“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”

Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.

“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”

Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.

“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.

“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”

Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.

“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”

“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.

But this wasn’t her opportunity.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.

“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.

“What about our friend?”

“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”

“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”

It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.

“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”

David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.

“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.

“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”

David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…

“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.

Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.

Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.

“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.

“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.

David turned, “What?”

“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”

“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”

He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”

“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“

“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.

“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.

She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”

———————————

The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.

He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.

Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.

Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.

All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.

Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.

Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…

His stomach turned.

He had to fucking hurry.

—————————

David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.

“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.

David and James wrenched the two of them apart.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”

“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”

If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.

“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.

“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.

Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.

“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.

“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.

“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.

David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”

“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.

In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.

This was how it ended.

“I’M INFECTED!”

Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.

“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”

David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.

“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”

Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.

“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.

James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”

“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.

Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.

This was their opportunity.

Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.

Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.

Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.

The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.

“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”

“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”

As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.

“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”

While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.

“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”

Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.

She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.

It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.

————————

Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.

In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.

Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose them.

—————————

“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.

“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”

Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.

“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”

Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.

“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”

In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.

Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.

David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.

Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.

With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.

Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.

The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.

Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.

With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.

David’s back was blissfully turned.

Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.

The flames were consuming the restaurant.

Y/n inched her way closer.

David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.

Ellie screamed louder.

Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.

Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.

The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.

When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.

Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.

The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.

They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.

“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.

“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.

Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.

“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.

Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.

“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”

Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.

Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.

“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.

Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.

“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”

Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.

After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.

“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.

Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.

Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.

But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.

—————————

That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.

Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.

All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.

Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.

As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.

Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.

Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.

——————

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[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 8

roman roy x fem! reader

Summary: The retreat dinner started as Logan's game plan was set into place. Jealousy and envy towards the others began to set in, ruining what Logan had been trying to set up for such a long time.

TW: Veganism, Logan Roy, Connor was interested in politics at an early age

Word Count: 4.6K

Notes: I had to put this chapter up as soon as I finished it.

Chapter 8: Connor Roy was interested in politics at a very young age

Logan sent everyone out of the room. Dinner was about to be set up as they had just finished cooking all the dishes. Everyone found their seats at the table. Roman sat with you, Jess sitting on your other side while Kendall was right across from Naomi, Shiv on Kendall’s side. You were close enough to start a conversation with Nan as was Shiv. Nan came out with a large turkey, setting it on the table as if she had anything to do with preparing it. She set it down before starting her speech to only make Naomi make her own little speech. Once they finished speaking, everyone around the table clapped, you following their lead. Roman rolled his eyes, exaggerating his feelings towards it. It was the purest form of pretension. You lightly kicked Roman under the table.

Jess leaned over to you, whispering. “See, I told you it was gonna get worse.” She let out a light chuckle before putting her napkin in her lap.

Kendall leaned towards Naomi and began to congratulate her speech. Instant sparks began between the two of them. You watched impressed before ignoring them for Roman and Jess. Everyone went back to their own stupid conversations before. Before you knew it, Roman got into a conversation that he seemed to get stuck in with his stupid jokes. He was asked about books, lying that he could even read in the first place. “Can you recommend anything?” He asked. Roman tried to come up with something but was also trying not to fuck with this guy even more than he was before. “Oh, didn’t you tell me to read that classic novel, uh fuck- what was it?” You jumped in to save him as you tried to think of a book you had put on the back burner for a bit. Roman looked over, hiding a laugh behind his hands, but acting as if he was just talking to you. You truly were always there for him. “Oh yes! The Pachinko Parlour!” You exclaimed. “Roman doesn’t wanna spoil it for me though. I like to experience them as I read.” You made an excuse for Roman not to go on.

“Oh yea, I’ve read it like 3 separate times. I’m actually giving her my copy. Uh- but what’s your memoir mostly on?” He asked as if he gave a single fuck about the memoir.

“Well, I’m kind of interested though. What is that book about Rome?” Shiv tried to embarrass Roman at the table. “Yeah, who’s the author?” A woman apart of Nan’s family asked as she tried to pull it up. “Can you spell it?” She questioned.

Roman tried to struggle with the concept, even forgetting the name of the book. Logan watched carefully, annoyed that Shiv would even do this. This was not the time to embarrass one another. Logan observed everyone to make sure they weren’t messing up the deal.

“Oh come on, I really don’t want this spoiled.” You tried to help Roman out. Jess decided to help out either, looking the book up and sending a text to Roman. He looked at his phone quickly, finally able to even answer a few questions.

“It’s fine. Uh- so- it is about…” Roman dragged out his sentence. “It’s kind of about this woman teaching a girl French.” He simplified it. He didn’t have a lot of time to read everything Jess had texted him.

“That’s it?” Shiv continued, a smirk appearing on her lips as she leaned down to sip soup off her spoon. You decided not to eat the soup. You didn’t know what kind of broth was in it.

“Well-uh no Shiv. It’s just kind of them, just- uh- well she sees her as a mom and it’s about identity and fucking war and stuff.” He was struggling. It was painful to watch. “It’s mostly about her family.” He tried to recover from whatever Shiv had set him up for.

“Alright, let’s not spoil it any longer for me now.” You cheerfully smiled at everyone. “So uh- what about you? Have anything you could recommend me? I’m mostly into classics or just anything devastating honestly.” You tried to take the spotlight from Roman.

He felt like a loser around everyone. It was almost as if he was a kid again being made fun of for saying something annoying. He felt such a deep shame overcome him.

“Why aren’t you eating, my love? Something wrong with it?” Nan took notice. You looked over and shook your head no. “No-it’s not that it’s just-uh I don’t eat meat.” You reassured her. She sat back and looked confused. It was just soup. “It’s just- I don’t eat any animal products and I wasn’t sure if it was uh- bone broth or something.” You tried to explain. She nodded slowly as she tried to find a solution to the issue. “It’s fine though. Please don’t worry.” You smiled, putting your hands over your heart.

“No-no. It’s fine. One of my daughters’ children is vegan. I’ll make sure with the staff of that fact.” She commented before asking a staff member to make sure what was in the food. She told Nan about some of the courses that were going to come out later that would be okay for me. They nodded to each other as your plate was taken away.

“I fucking knew you were a grass eater.” Roman snickered. “I can’t believe you would like to me like that.” He pressed. Finally the spotlight was off of him and no one was paying him any mind anymore. You were the freak at the table that can’t eat most of the food that was prepared.

A conversation started between Nan and Logan about politics and their network thanks to Shiv admitting she was happy to be leaving politics to work with the company now. They tried to shift some blame to Tom, as Tom was always pinned as some kind of scapegoat for anything Waystar did wrong. Kendall tried to rebuttal in the argument and make Waystar look better. Shiv wasn’t making this better though. Nan felt offended before looking over at you. You wanted to but in and say your opinions, but knew they didn’t align with the companies. “Anything you need to get off your chest?” Nan asked you. You shrugged before finally deciding to get into the conversation. “Well-uh, I agree with Logan that at Waystar we’re allowed our own opinions. I mean he hired whoever has the ability to interview and do journalism at ATN, no matter their political party. I mean, I don’t personally agree with anything ATN says, but that’s my own views.” You shrugged, sipping onto your champagne.

“And what exactly are your views?” Naomi asked, leaning in. She wanted to hear more from you. “Oh. I guess, I would consider myself a Marxist. I think money is just- it’s a concept we created.” You started before Nan cut you off to agree. She went on about it and spoke the evils of it and went by talking about what actually mattered. But Tom came in and shared that his view was money mattered since he had to pay things with it.

“Yeah, but Tom, do you think that’s all that has to do with who we are? For example, as Nan said virtue and integrity is what do matter at the end of the day. If we don’t have our morals, what’s going to happen when the planet dies, and you guys don’t have money to buy your ways out of it?” You tried to hit back at him. Nan agreed with you as did Naomi. It seemed like they thought you were the only one in the company who actually had some kind of insight. Shiv saw this and jumped in and dismissed her husband’s argument. Which only ended a small and petty lovers’ quarrel. Jess had to step in and settle it. “I think that we have our own lived experiences that create our perception of money and how the world actually works. But regardless, it’s what makes Waystar so brilliant. I mean look at Shiv and Tom, two completely opposite opinions, yet so deeply in love. I mean you should’ve seen their wedding. It was beautiful.” Jess tried to remove the conversation from something so hostile to something sweet. Jess was always the peacekeeper. She always tried to minimize any arguments and didn’t ever pick sides. But it mostly to keep Logan happy. If she was actually allowed to tell everyone what she thought, she’d tell Tom to go back to whatever cheese state he was from and remember what it was like before marrying Shiv. But the topic of Tom’s position came into play. It felt tense. It felt as though everyone sent digs at the Roy’s. Everyone insulted the siblings. It apparently was enough for Tom and Shiv to excuse themselves. “Do you think they’re gonna fight or…well that’s all they ever do.” Jess whispered to you. You laughed quietly.

Apparently, Jess was wrong. Tom had to calm her nerves since she went into full panic.

Kendall excused himself later too, Naomi taking notice. Kendall had gone into the bathroom to sniff the coin bag of coke in his pocket.

God, this dinner felt like a massive mistake. The only thing saving this was Jess and you, since you were both neutral.

But you spoke too soon apparently because one of Nan’s family members began to target you. “So who are you related to in this table?” He asked. “You both don’t seem very… y’know.” He pointed to you and Jess.

“Oh me and Jess knew each other in college. We both just happen to work at the company too.” You tried to answer.

“Oh? Who got hired first? You both seem so young to be this heavily involved.” It seemed inappropriate to even imply we couldn’t get the job based off of our age.  “You know also if you don’t align with their ideals. Especially the commie.” He pointed towards you.

“Uh- yea. I’ve been working for Kendall for 2 and a half years now.” Jess tried to remove herself, but couldn’t find an exit route. “As what exactly?” He asked. “An assistant.” She clarified.

“Why are two assistants this heavily involved with the company then?” He seemed to act as if we had any rights to speak onto what would happen in the company.

“Well- I had practically told Nan earlier, but they really treat us like family. I think we spend most of our days together really. I mean even the other night both of us and Kendall went out to dinner. And Logan was gracious enough, even a week into me working there, let me in his home and hosted a dinner for me. It’s a little thing they do for people who just get hired.” You lied. Logan caught on and seemed pleased enough. “But no one knew you didn’t eat meat products?” He seemed to caught on to your lies.

“No, but it was like a dinner like this. I just picked whatever I could.” You tried to explain.  

“Just leave the poor girl alone, you’re making her uncomfortable.” Nan scolded him.

But the conversation of CEO came up after Logan’s eventual step down. It caused concern for the entire family as they anticipated to hear their own name. But Logan refused to even say anything. He just left it up in the air. But Shiv interrupted and asked Logan to admit it was her. Roman looked at Shiv then Logan for confirmation. He had spent weeks preparing for the CEO position because Logan told him he had to. Only to have promised Shiv the same position. It felt as though it had gotten stolen from him. The room was quiet. Nan asked if it was true and Shiv confirmed. “Rome?” You whispered. You rested a hand on his arm, feeling how incredibly tense he was. “My life is fucking over.” He whispered to himself. Logan tried to back pedal, but Shiv wouldn’t let down. Roman felt as though he was going to cry at the table. The dinner was a complete mess. Nan dismissed everyone and Roman couldn’t be more happy for everyone to leave the room. Everyone got up, Roman with his head in his hands as he was in complete disbelief of this new betrayal. “Did you know?” You asked him. But Roman was too shocked and just told you he didn’t.

You guided him out of his chair, putting an arm around him as you made him go outside with everyone for a breathe of air. Jess decided to leave you two be. She felt sorry for Roman. She just hoped it didn’t end with a crash like Kendall. You walked down with him as you tried to have him focus on the view. “Just relax Rome. Maybe he was trying to keep his options open. Y’know, a backup?” you tried to rationalize. He didn’t wanna hear any of it.

“But what the fuck was all of that? As if he couldn’t have that conversation after I fucked up. I mean- just-“ his brain couldn’t grasp with what had happened. He bit his lip and tried to prevent himself from having a meltdown. This entire dinner was an entire shit show. He needed to leave. But he was stuck here. All thanks to Logan. And if he did anything to upset him, he would get blamed for creating the deal to fall apart more than it had already done. “I don’t know Rome, I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You whispered, rubbing his arm. “Can we just fucking go? I wanna go fucking inside.” He was basically shaking. You nodded, leading him back inside. You went into the bedroom he was staying at for the night, setting down on the bed. Roman just grabbed his clothes from his bag that he had packed and went into the bathroom to change. He had been taking a while though. You got up, putting your ear on the door. You couldn’t help but hear sniffling and low murmurs of insults thrown at himself. “Rome? You alright?” You called out before knocking. “Can I come in?” You asked. Roman got up from the bedroom floor as he just seemed to slide down on earlier as his emotions got the best of him. He had tried to hide the fact he was just crying in there, wiping his face before opening the door. But his cheeks were still wet and his eyes were puffy. “Roman..” You sighed, trying to pull him into an embrace, but he shoved past you.

“Do you think they have booze in here?” He asked in a calm tone as if nothing was impacting him. But it wasn’t working. He sounded disappointed. “Fuck- I should’ve known. Dad would’ve never thought of me. I don’t know why the fuck I even- just.” He couldn’t express his emotions. You searched the room for booze before finding a bottle left in a cabinet. Roman took it from you, laying on the couch that sat near the window as he took swigs of it. “What am I even supposed to do?” He asked. He looked up at the ceiling to prevent him to starting to cry again.

“I don’t know Roman, but I’m sure it wasn’t-“ you began to lie. You didn’t think Logan was ever setting him up for CEO. Anyone can see it. Roman was the last choice. Worst case scenario. Even with all the management training In the world. Even with the amount of times he’s been put in the COO position. Roman wasn’t ever meant for CEO in Logans eyes. “I just-fuck Rome- “you breathed out. “I just think- Logan has his options open. Shiv might’ve just taken his suggestion as fact rather than what it was; a suggestion.” You tried to reason.

“But you saw them out there. They constantly tried to insult me to my face. They all know how fucking stupid I am. I even had to have you cover for me.” He had run his fingers through his hair, tightening his grip on it. His breathing was irregular. It was either really fast and uneven or just deep heavy breathes. Roman felt as though there was a giant rock on his chest, and he had to try to catch air before he eventually passed out.

“Rome, you’re not stupid.” Your tone had so much pity in it. He knew it. You saw him as pathetic. Why wouldn’t you? Everyone else did.

“Yes, I am. Don’t act as if you don’t think so. I even fucking know it.” Roman mumbled, taking another drink from the bottle before offering it over to you.

“No Roman. You aren’t. I do think you’re very smart. If you weren’t Logan wouldn’t offer you the position in the first place.” You tried to season with him. You sat down on the floor next to him, trying to reason with him. But the mood was set for the night. “You may not have your siblings’ strengths, but you have our own they can’t compete with.” You laid a hand on his arm. He nodded trying to pay attention to you, but nothing you said made sense to him. His thoughts were getting the best of him.

“No- they’ve all told me before.” Roman tried to explain. He tried to get the words out before giving up. “Can you just fucking drink with me? I don’t wanna be a bigger fucking loser having someone stare at me get drunk.” He raised his voice. You knew he only did so because he was upset. You took the bottle from him and just took a swig. You set it down next to yourself, just knowing if you gave it back, Roman would finish it.

“If it matters, my family use to treat me like the dumb one too.” You opened up. You never really opened up about your issues with your own family. You had cut them off back when you were 16. You left the house as soon as you could and never looked back. Now it was about maybe 7 or 8 years since you’ve spoken to anyone. “They use to really make me feel like shit. Like call me a moron, that I did nothing to contribute to the family, that I was worthless.” You tried to recount everything. “But- I know I’m not that. Because I put myself through college, got good grades and now I work at one of the biggest companies in the world.” You hoped it would cheer him up. But you weren’t sure anything could.

“I’m sorry, I just-.” He mumbled. “I just- fuck- my dad just- I feel like he doesn’t trust me though. I mean- I did everything he asked. And what? Shiv? Really?” He didn’t know how to react to your story. He just knew his life was essentially over. His career would be gone with Shiv there. “I even told Shiv, I never considered CEO and then she tells me I can. For fucking what? So, she can do this to me?” He was questioning out loud. Not even that he was talking to you anymore. More just talking to himself.  “What’d you do? To prove it to them? Do they still-just-.” He tried to ask.

“I mean- we don’t speak.” You cleared your throat. “This is more different though. Roman it has to count that he even offered you. He didn’t even confirm it at the dinner. He might still have you in mind.” You tried to make him think differently.

“Fucking Nan. Old stupid bitch.” He mumbled. You laughed, getting up and sitting on the couch with Roman, moving his feet over.

“Come on, move over…” You tell him.

He grabbed the bottle off of the floor, clinging onto it as he tried to finally feel some kind of buzz. But still nothing.

“I’m sorry that I dragged you here. If I didn’t- maybe- I don’t know. My dad went in on you. I just- “he sighed before passing you over the bottle. You both took turns drinking from it. “I really-I just fucking need you… to be around I guess.” He tried to cover up what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell you that he needed you. Not as in support. But right now. His ego hit a massive wall and he was just hoping if you shared some kind of feeling it’d cheer him up, but he decided against it. He couldn’t ruin this right now. Especially since he did need you to be with him right now. “Hey, no, it’s fine. Nan was nice to me. Your dad wasn’t as harsh as he was to Shiv. He basically insulted her the entire dinner.” You pointed out. He barely acknowledged any of Romans wrong doings the whole night. It must’ve counted for something with Roman. “I mean did you hear half of the things he said to her.”

Roman cracked a smile, nodding. He did realize maybe it wasn’t the end of everything. Shiv might’ve ruined the deal. It could impact her chances of being CEO if she’s willing to spite Logan this much when she knew how important it was.

“You’re really smart Roman.” You reminded him. “Really.” You laid your head on the back of the couch, looking up at him. He looked so sad. You wished you could’ve comforted him a bit better, but it didn’t seem like that’d happen anytime soon.

Roman didn’t want to acknowledge your compliments. He just didn’t believe them. Despite what you said. He looked over at you, looking down and up. His eyes stayed onto your lips a bit too long before finally looking at your eyes. He sighed once again before looking at the window to avoid any thoughts he had about you. He wanted to grab you and finally do what he’s been thinking about for days now. But again, he needed to be professional enough around you. If you didn’t reciprocated feelings it could be the end of the one thing he enjoyed having around him.

“Also what a douchebag that guy was? Did you hear him just straight up call me a commie?” You brought up, your lips curving into a smile, laughing out of confusion of the awkward interaction.

“I think the biggest blow of the night was finding out you were a commie. I mean come on. All vegans like communism.” He started to finally revert back to him.

“You’re not too mad about that, are you? I really like this job; I hope it doesn’t impact my abilities to work now.” You batted your eyes at him, leaning close up to him. Your bottom lip turned into a pout as if you were begging him to reconsider his thoughts. “I don’t know how I feel about some dirt eater working around me honestly.” He joked. His heart began to pick up the pace as you had gotten close to him. He wanted to hold you and finally make that connection. His fantasies began to run wild of everything he’d do with you if he wasn’t so scared of everything he actually wanted to do.

“Okay fine. What if I compromise with you?” you joked. Roman looked at you curious to how you’d even do so. “I don’t know, y/n, what’s done is done. How wont I know you won’t poison my food with that crap?” He asked you.

“How do you know I haven’t?” You smirked.

You still hadn’t moved away. You were still awfully close to him. You tried to reason with him, but his mind was somewhere else. Almost as if he was in his own little world. You blamed it on all the stress he had just gone through. But in reality, his mind kept playing every possibility in his head. How you would feel. How you’d taste. How your bodies would just know what to do together. But Roman didn’t want to ruin what you had. This work dynamic worked so well. You actually cared about him. He couldn’t waste whatever you both had for some stupid mistake he might regret. But leave it up to Roman to let his body work faster than his mind.

His hands reached up to your cheeks, landing there before pulling you into him even further. He messed up. He knew he did. But it had been too late. He finally closed that gap between the two of you. Your body didn’t know how to react. Roman just kept his lips onto you, hoping you’d reciprocate. He was begging, pleading for it in his own mind. His hand leaving your cheek and fell down to hold onto your waist. The other remained but loosened his grip onto you.

You kissed back. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact you wanted to kiss him. You moved closer over to him, adjusting to face him better, moving onto his lap. Your armed draped around his neck as your lips moved with his. Roman finally relaxed under your touch. He didn’t fuck up. This wasn’t gonna end in a complete fucking disaster. His hand ran through your hair, the other roaming your body. There was a quickness to the kiss. Almost as if this was the last time this would ever happen again. A kind of hunger that had been there for awhile. A new fear set in. He didn’t know how to deescalate this. He had no intention on furthering this with anything but a kiss. Possibly dry humping. But his fear of intimacy was starting to creep up. He just thought he’d let it become an issue if it started to become one.

You couldn’t believe what you were even doing. You didn’t even think you had a crush on him. Sure, a few fantasies. But you weren’t ever sure if you’d actually go for it or ever really happen. But it was. Your heart was practically beating out of your own chest, adrenaline running through you.

The kiss finally broke apart, both of you just looking at one another, unsure of where to go from here. There was a sense of nervousness. An anxiety of whatever relationship you both had before was officially gone. “Can you stay the night? Please.” He began to beg. He didn’t want sex out of this. He wanted to know your feelings towards him, if you even felt the same. You held your breath, unsure of how to respond to him. You didn’t have any intentions of sleeping with him. What if people found out? “Uh- Roman… this was just- “You tried to let him down easy.

“Please. Just- I don’t wanna fuck you or anything. Just stay here.” He asked, his hands still around your waist. He drew little shapes into your hips out of nervousness of how you were going to even respond. He was worried you’d reject him.

“Okay Roman, I’ll stay the night.” You smiled lightly before being met with a softer kiss from Roman. You let yourself get drawn back to him.

He laid back further, allowing you to straddle his waist. His hands sliding down to your thighs as you laid down to kiss him back. It wasn’t as rough and eager as the first one. It was sweeter, calmer. It felt natural between the two of you. This was extremely wrong, but you wanted this just as badly as him.

Notes: It finally happened! AHHH

Chapter 9

[hbyrde36]

It's Only Forever

R: Mature | WC: 6507 | | Ch 2/8 | Read on AO3

Ch 1 [Penny Art Link] [SissayeRys Art Link]

Chapter 2: Into The Labyrinth

Tick, tock.

It didn’t take Steve long to reach the outermost wall of the Labyrinth. He was feeling cautiously optimistic as he approached—thirteen hours seemed like more than enough time to complete his task—but was quickly brought back to reality when he noticed the distinct lack of any sort of entrance. 

Surely the place had a gate or front door of some kind, right? 

Shit.

For all Steve knew he’d been dropped off on the wrong side of the thing, or maybe getting inside was the first hurdle he had to overcome?

“Well, that doesn’t seem fair,” he murmured to himself. 

Thankfully, not far from where he’d walked up there was a girl wandering along the edge of the wall, wielding an old fashioned bug repellent sprayer. She appeared to be roughly his age, and honestly Steve might have thought she was an outsider like him If it weren't for the way she was dressed. 

Similar to Dustin's kidnapper, she looked a bit like a character out of a period film or something, though her clothes weren’t fancy like his had been—more commoner than king. She wore a loose-fitting off white blouse with puffy sleeves tucked into beige linen trousers, and a pair of well-worn leather suspenders slung over her shoulders. 

“Hello?” He called out. “Excuse me, miss—I’m supposed to solve this labyrinth, but I can’t find my way in.”

The girl turned, her light brown chin-length hair falling into her eyes. “Oh, It’s you.” She said with a frown, and turned her attention right back to tracking what, at a glance, looked like a huge flying bug.

“Hey! I was talking to you—” Steve stomped after her, managing to trip over a large rock on the way and stubbed his toe. “Ah, fuck,” he spat, balancing on one foot for a moment until the pain subsided. “What are you doing anyway?”

Steve squinted. Now that he was closer he could see that what she was stalking were not in fact large moths, but rather, small humanoid creatures with wings.

Fairies, he hazarded a guess. 

“Hmm, cute.” 

She turned slowly, staring at him over her shoulder as though he’d suddenly grown three extra heads. “Cute?! It’s an infestation!”

“What’s the problem? They look harmless enough,” he said.

The girl scoffed, and once more returning her attention to her task, aimed, fired, and with a puff of noxious fumes, the fairy that had been hovering in front of her fell like a stone to lie motionless on the ground.

“Shows what you know.” She smirked, toeing at the creature at her feet. It remained limp and still. “Fairies bite. Ever heard of rabies before, Harrington?”

“Wait, you know who I am?”

“Uh, yeah? Would have thought that was obvious when I said—oh, it’s you—a minute ago. You really don’t stand a chance in there. You should just turn back now, save yourself a whole lot of trouble.”

Steve huffed, hands coming to rest on his hips as he stared at her. “You’re rude, you know that?”

“No, I'm Robin, and I'm a little busy here, so if you’ll excuse me—” 

She tried to walk away from him again, and this time Steve ran out in front of her, physically putting himself in her path. This girl might be fucking infuriating, but somehow he didn’t think he was likely to run into anyone else out here. 

“Wait, please,” he pleaded through gritted teeth. “Do you know how to get into the labyrinth?”

She sighed heavily. “Of course I do. I’ve got eyes, don’t I?”

Jesus Christ, she was worse than Dustin. 

Steve waited expectantly for a moment, but she just stood there, silent.

“Well..? Are you gonna show me or not?!”

The girl poked a finger hard into his chest. “If you can’t see what’s right in front of your face, dingus, I don’t think there's much hope for you.” 

“What do you mean right in front of my—”

She grabbed him roughly by the shoulders with both hands and forcibly turned him back around to face the high wall, the same stretch of it he’d already seen… except now there hung a huge set of doors that were absolutely not there a minute ago. 

“What the fuck—” 

Each side of the entrance was covered in creeping vines, criss-crossing over the cracked and weathered planks. There were no handles or latch that he could see set into the ancient wood, which might have posed a whole new problem, but as he watched, the doors swung open of their own accord as if to welcome him inside, or else, daring him to enter. 

Steve held his breath and took a few tentative steps towards the archway, catching his first glimpse of the inside of the maze. It wasn't a total surprise. More walls lined the interior, nearly as high as the last, though these were made from stacked bricks rather than large stones, and the surface seemed to shimmer as the light bounced off of it, like a visual representation of the magic this place must be steeped in. 

“You really going in there?” The girl asked from behind. Her voice, for the first time, completely devoid of any attitude or snark. 

That, almost more than Steve’s current surroundings, was unsettling, to say the least.

“I have to.”

With no more hesitation, and without looking back, he stepped inside, worrying his bottom lip as he cast his gaze to the left and to the right. It was as if he were standing in the middle of a long hall or alleyway, no discernable difference between the two directions.

“Cozy, aint it?”

Her voice was loud and far too close for comfort. Steve jumped—whirling around to see the creepy girl suddenly right next to him again. He hadn’t heard her follow, and assumed she'd gone on her way, happy to be free of him. 

She smiled, clearly pleased that she’d startled him. “So, which way will you go? Left, or right?”

“I don’t know,” Steve began, taking another long glance down each long stretch. “They look the same.”

She shook her head. “Oh yeah, you’re doomed alright.”

“Okay, which way would you go, if you know so much?”

She snorted. “Neither, obviously.”

“Right,” Steve breathed, and using a silent count off of eenie-meenie-miney-moe in his head, picked a direction and started walking. 

“Thanks for nothing, Rachel.” He called back over his shoulder.

“It’s Robin!” 

“Whatever!” 

“Don’t say I didn't warn you!” She shouted.

He spun around at that, walking backwards as he flipped her off, praying he wouldn’t trip again in the process and ruin the effect. 

Robin, who’s name he finally, begrudgingly, managed to commit to memory, stormed away back out through the set of wooden doors, which slammed shut behind her, leaving him trapped inside—alone. 

Not that it mattered, he had no intention of leaving. If he didn’t bring Dustin home their mother would literally kill him, and damn it all, he loved that little dweeb.

Steve had no choice but to press on.

For almost an hour he walked, picking his way over bare tree branches, fallen leaves, and other debris that he didn’t care enough to try and identify, all the while growing more and more frustrated. He’d gone what had to be at least two, maybe three miles? And had yet to see a single turn. 

It just went on forever and ever with no end in sight.

And look, Steve wasn’t as dumb as people often assumed he was. He knew there had to be a trick to it, something he was missing or overlooking, but for the life of him he had no idea what it was. In a bid of desperation he took off at a run, thinking maybe that was it, maybe the trick was to make him think the path was never-ending so he’d give up!

Like hell was he going to fold so easily to that damned Goblin King… and his big stupid gorgeous eyes, and those curls, and that jawline and—

Fuck.

Steve’s chest heaved, heart racing, and it wasn’t just from the pumping of his arms and legs. There was a reason he’d been avoiding thinking too much about the dark, mysterious figure who’d come into their home and stolen his brother away. He was evil. What else could a thing like that be—a monster who steals children and threatens to keep them forever? 

Just because he was obscenely attractive, and fucking packing if the unmistakable bulge that had been so clearly visible in those skin tight pants he’d been wearing was any indication, that didn’t mean—

Steve licked his lips absently, skidding to a sudden stop as he became aware of where his mind had wandered.

No.

Absolutely not.

Dustin. He had to find Dustin. He couldn't afford to let himself be distracted. 

Steve glanced down at his ever-ticking watch as he worked to catch his breath. Damn, another hour down already. 

He squinted his eyes in a pointless effort to see as far ahead as he could, but there was no change, just the same long, endless path in front of him sandwiched between brick walls.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Steve cursed, with feeling, pounding his fist into the hard wall over and over again before sliding down to sit at the base of it, resting his head on his knees. Crying wouldn’t help a goddamn thing right now, he knew that, but knowing it didn’t make it any easier to swallow back, to stop the burning in his eyes or the tightening in his throat.

“Hey, watch it!” 

Steve’s head snapped up as a high pitched yet powerful voice shouted very close to his ear, and he found himself face-to-face with a worm the size of a small guinea pig, or a large hamster, sitting on a ledge built into the wall. 

She was bright pink and yellow with a sky blue underbelly, and her hair—

Hair? 

Did worms usually have hair?

Her dark brown hair was set in braids that fell around her head, with teeny tiny pink and yellow beads on the ends of each strand.

“Did you… did you just say hello?” Steve heard himself ask, though the question was ridiculous. Worms couldn’t talk, he was sure of that much. 

Reasonably sure.

Okay, fine. Considering everything else that had happened so far, maybe it wasn’t entirely out of the question.

She gave him a scathing once over, somehow looking down her nose at him even though she was only a few inches tall, and curled her lip, unimpressed. “Actually, I said—hey, watch it—but close enough I guess.”

“But, you’re a worm.”

“Yeah, and?” She scoffed, “watch whose walls you're punching, jock. You shook the whole damn house!”

“Oh. Um, I-I’m sorry?” Steve stuttered out. Why was he feeling so intimidated by this small pink worm?

“That’s more like it.” The worm gave a satisfied nod before moving to leave.

“Hey, wait,” Steve rushed out. “You don’t know the way through this labyrinth by any chance, do you?”

The small creature turned back to him with narrowed eyes. “What’s in it for Erica?”

“Who’s Erica?”

“That’s my name, dipshit. Keep up.”

“Right.” Steve’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t have anything to offer you, I just—I really need to get through this thing so I can save my little brother, but there aren't any openings or turns or anything!”

“Brother, huh?”

“Yes. He’s only a kid and I…” Steve blew out a long breath, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him with a light thud. “It’s my fault he’s here.”

“Alright, alright, save the crying for your mommy.” Erica wriggled closer, the lines of her small face softening slightly. “Look, I got a brother too, and you’re lookin’ a little pathetic—so—I guess I can help you out, pro bono.” 

“Really?”

“First, you need to get your head out of your ass. There's openings all over the place, you’re just not seeing them. Like, across the way, just there—” Erica tilted her chin, gesturing at the wall opposite them.

“What?” Steve glanced from the very-solid-looking wall, to the worm, and back again. “But there's nothing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just get up and try it.”

He pushed himself to his feet, mumbling, “can’t believe I'm taking orders from some little worm girl.”

“What was that?” Erica asked.

“I said, okay, I'm going!”

Steve took a few careful steps forward as he held his arms out in front of him—not about to walk face first into a brick wall even if it would prove his point, but no matter how close he came to the surface his hands touched nothing but air. He kept going, until his hands, then his arms, then his whole body went through the wall to the other side, revealing another path. 

Well, not through the wall exactly. There was an opening, it was just an optical illusion. 

The bricks of one wall were perfectly patterned and aligned with the bricks of the next set, causing the entryway to be effectively invisible to the naked eye until you were right on top of it.

Steve’s heart leapt, a sense of hope coming back to him in a rush. Maybe he could do this! 

He moved to take off down the right side of the new alleyway, but the worm called out to stop him. He didn’t really have time for more delays but he supposed after what she had done for him, the least he could do was stop and thank her.

He turned around to face the worm again and flashed a quick smile. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” He said, and quickly bounded away before she tried to detain him again.

The further Steve ventured into the Labyrinth, the more twists and turns he encountered. Which was better than no turns, obviously, but it was becoming more and more difficult to retrace his steps when he encountered a dead end. 

Eventually he began to leave himself breadcrumbs of a sort, marking his path with small rocks and twigs formed into arrows, indicating whether he went right or left. 

It was going great actually, and he really felt like he was making progress, right up until he hit his sixth dead end. He turned back ready to take the other choice of turn, only to realize the slab of floor he’d left his bits of twig on was moving, spinning around to make the arrow point in the opposite direction.

”What the hell?!” Steve threw himself to the ground, lunging for the flat rock, trying to pry it off the floor to get to whatever force or creature was trying to trick him by changing his marks. He pried at the edges with his fingertips but it wouldn’t budge.

“It’s not fair!” He shouted.

“Newsflash, life isn’t fair.”

The unexpected voice came from directly behind him and had Steve jumping back to his feet, whirling around to face the source of it. The sight was as unexpected as the voice had been.

“B-but, this was a dead end a minute ago.”

In the middle of the empty alcove he’d just come out, of were now two ornately carved doors. In front of each stood a child-sized guard. One of the girls had dark hair, shorn very close to her head. She stared at him with wary eyes and a tight lipped neutral expression. The other had bright flaming red hair styled into two braided pigtails. Her face was painted with a spray of freckles, and she wore the most condescending smirk Steve had ever seen outside of a mirror. Both guards held gigantic shields out in front of them.

“No,” the dark haired girl said, shaking her head, “that is the dead end, behind you.” 

“Wha–” Steve twisted around to look back—he was going to get whiplash at this rate—and sure enough the girl was right, the path behind him had vanished, and a wall of leafy green hedges had taken its place.

He was trapped.

“It keeps changing!” Steve shouted, stomping his feet. “No one said it would—I thought this was just a maze!” He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “What am I gonna do?”

“Your only chance of getting out of here is to try one of these doors. One of them leads to the castle at the center of the labyrinth,” the redhead said. 

Her partner cleared her throat, as if gearing up to say her part like it was something they had rehearsed. “And the other one leads to—”

“Certain death.” The redhead lowered her voice to a dramatic rasp, while the other girl dissolved into delighted giggles that she tried, and failed, to hide behind her shield.

“Awesome.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a feeling I'm going to regret asking, but which one is which?”

“You can only ask one of us,” the short-haired girl answered. 

“Mmhmm, it’s in the rules,” the redhead added, “and you should know, one of us always tells the truth, and one of us always lies. 

The other girl nodded solemnly. “Yes, that is a rule too.”

Steve stepped closer, examining what he could see of each door over the girl’s heads as they spoke.

The redheaded guard leaned forward as he approached, whispering to him conspiratorially and pointing to her friend, “she always lies.”

The other girl gasped. “Max! I do not lie! I tell the truth!”

“Oh, Jane. Don’t lie to the guy.”

Jane stuck her bottom lip out, pouting, and raised her eyes up to meet Steve’s. “She is the liar.”

“No offense, girls, but I don’t trust either of you.”

“Girls?” Max snapped.

“We are very old. Do not let our looks fool you,” Jane said. 

“Right, fine, whatever.” Steve said, not really listening anymore. If either of them were to be believed he had a fifty-fifty shot at guessing right, and being well on his way to the castle.

And hopefully one step closer to the end of this goddamn nightmare. 

He pointed at the redhead—Max—and the door she guarded on his left, and with another silent count off of eenie-meenie-miney-moe in his head, swung his finger back and forth until it landed on Jane, and her door.

“What are you doing?” Max asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Choosing.”

She threw her shield down, freeing her hands to settle on her hips, looking as though he’d personally offended her. “But you didn’t even ask us anything!”

Steve lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Riddles are more my brother’s thing than mine, so either way I'd only be guessing.”

“And if it is certain death?” Jane asked.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“Cross that…” Max sputtered. “Certain death, is certain death!”

“Nothing is certain, especially in this place. That's what I've learned in the last few hours,” he said, as much to himself as his audience, while stepping up to Jane’s door. “So if you’ll let me pass, I'd like to use your door—please.”

Jane stepped aside wordlessly, moving to stand next to her counterpart, and Steve wasted no time grasping the handle, pushing the door open, and walking into the dark beyond it.

Then, he was falling.

Eddie let the heavy doors slam behind him as he bounded back into the castle after leaving Steve on his own just outside the limits of the labyrinth. He was grateful that whoever was supposed to be on guard duty seemed to be occupied elsewhere for the moment, probably in the throne room with the others gawking at their new captive.  They didn’t need to see him like this, and he could use a moment or two to compose himself if he was honest. 

He was feeling a bit… strung out, or something, after spending time in close proximity to—him. 

The pretty boy who was somehow even more alluring in person. Eddie had managed to hold it together, to play his part as the Goblin King in a masterful performance, if he did say so himself, but it hadn’t been easy—for so many reasons. 

Under his cool, calm, and collected exterior had been a heart beating like a racehorse in the Kentucky Derby—a situation not helped in the slightest by the way Steve had stared, seeming to be struck by him too. 

A most unexpected turn of events. 

Not that it mattered. There was no coming back from this, no chance that Eddie could continue to drool over the subject of his desire in the same way. 

It was—

It’s not like he’d even really liked Steve before, okay? The other boy could be such an ass at times, and downright bitchy on occasion. Though, bitchy was a damn fine look on him. 

And maybe Eddie had wondered what it would be like to live in a world where he could occupy space next to Steve, let himself sink into a fantasy or two when he was lying in bed late at night, his own hands and fingers roaming his body as he pretended they belonged to another, but that was done now. He couldn’t entertain it anymore when Steve had done something so cruel.

Eddie paced back and forth in the hall just outside the throne room, knowing he needed to get in there and do his bit, but it was all still roiling inside him, a savage storm raging in his head. 

A very, very deep down voice whispered that Steve probably hadn’t been serious, hadn’t known his words would have any real effect or consequences, but that was a little bit the point, wasn’t it? You shouldn't say shit you don’t mean—not like that! And certainly not about your child!

Not that— 

Not that Dustin was Steve’s child, obviously. So, sure, maybe it wasn’t exactly the same situation but—

Eddie hurled himself forward and flung open the door, cutting that train of thought off in its tracks—now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past—and had barely a moment to look around before something, or rather someone, barreled straight into him.

The absolute last thing he expected upon his return was to walk into his throne room and be immediately assaulted by the boy he’d just kidnapped. 

Dustin’s short curls bounced as he began to smack at Eddie’s chest, more than half the blows not even making contact, and the ones that did were weak at best. Eddie grinned, enjoying the show of spunk, but quickly realized they had an audience, and it wouldn’t do well for his image to let the goblins see him allowing a young human boy to assault him like this. 

As gently as he could, Eddie took the boy up by the back of his neck, feeling a little like he was scruffing a disgruntled kitten, and proceeded to march him out the door, wearing a scowl for show. 

He led Dustin down to the end of the hall, stumbling through another door and into the library where they could have a moment alone, releasing him once they were behind closed doors. 

“Listen, kid…”  Eddie began, only to have the little shit turn on him the second he was free, arms windmilling wildly. “Stop!” He shouted, catching one of the kid’s small wrists mid-motion, applying just enough pressure to get his attention.

Dustin finally stopped trying to hit him, thankfully, but instead shouted in his face. “What did you do to my brother?!”

Eddie had expected to see fear in the kid’s eyes when they finally stood face to face. There hadn’t been time for them to really size each other up before, when he’d whisked the boy away from his room with a hand on the shoulder and a tiny bit of magic, but there was only simmering rage in those baby blues now as Dustin glared. 

“Nothing much, but why should you care anyway? Has it not yet occurred to you that he is the reason you’re here?” Eddie scoffed, releasing his grip on the young boy’s arm. “He wished you away, kid.”

“So?” Dustin shot back.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “So?!”

“Clearly you didn't grow up with siblings. Now, where is he?”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth several times before shaking his head. “Right about now I suspect he’ll be trying to find his way inside the walls. That’s the deal, if he can manage to get through my Labyrinth, find his way to the gates of the Goblin City, and make it all the way up to the castle, he can win you back and you’ll both be free to go. If he fails? You’ll become one of us, stuck here forever.” 

“Oh,” Dustin said, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. 

…Oh?

That’s it? 

Oh?!

This kid and his fucking single syllable responses. He’d just found out he’s going to be stuck here forever, and all he can say is oh?!

Eddie ground his teeth together, hissing through them. “You don’t seem very worried.” 

“You don’t know Steve the way I do. He might seem like just another jock asshole, and he is sometimes, but people underestimate him. He’s brave, and smart—smarter than even he knows, I think. If anyone can do this, he can.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. In truth it just made him feel even more sorry for the younger boy. To have such blind faith in his brother? He was setting himself up for a world of disappointment when Steve inevitably gave up on him. 

“You accepted all of this rather easily,” Eddie remarked eventually. “Your brother did too. Most people these days don’t believe in other realms, or creatures, or even magic. I expected more disbelief, honestly.”

Dustin shrugged. “The world’s a weird place, if you take the time to look. I'm not gonna deny something I can see with my own two eyes, even if I had thought it was made up.”

Following their little chat, Eddie returned Dustin to the throne room, leaving him in the care of his innermost circle of goblins. They’d never actually harm the boy, and now that Eddie knew the kid had next to no fear—and frankly no survival instincts, but that was a whole other issue—he wasn’t so worried about leaving him alone with them. 

He was surprised to find no sign of Chrissy hanging around the court. He thought she’d be waiting impatiently for his return, to question him about his little quest. 

When asked, the largest of the goblins, who he’d taken to calling Freak, grunted that she’d gone off to her chambers. And while it was true she did have rooms within his walls now, having moved into the castle at his insistence once they'd grown close, he had a feeling that’s not where he’d find her. 

As suspected, she was perched in the window of his own bedchamber, looking out over the city. It was her favorite spot to sit and think, and watch their world go by.

“So, he’s a handful.” Chrissy said without looking back, the moment he entered the room.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed a laugh, peeling off his travel cloak and tossing it on the long wooden bench at the foot of his bed. “You could say that again.”

“For some reason I was expecting a baby, or like, a toddler? Or maybe I was just hoping he was.” She sighed, and swiveled around to face him, leaning her back against the window frame as she pulled her knees to her chest. 

Eddie sauntered over to her, a sad crooked smile playing on his lips. “Everyone is a child to someone. I was practically an adult when I came here, as you know.” 

He’d confessed his own backstory to her long ago over a few bottles of wine, but though they both knew the truth Eddie always said came, and not was brought, whenever he referred to his own origins aloud. As though it were his choice, in hopes that eventually the creatures he ruled over would forget how he came to be there—in hopes that maybe one day he could forget too.

“He’s the same age I was.” Chrissy said quietly.

Eddie stilled for a moment, breath catching in his throat. Chrissy never talked about her past. She usually spoke as though her life began here in the Goblin City, and he never pushed the issue, understanding on a deep level what a sensitive subject it could be. 

A thousand questions popped unbidden into his head at once, but he held back. She’d tell him what she wanted him to know at her own pace. He could be patient. They had all the time in the world. 

“I just…” 

Chrissy trailed off, trying to find her words as she fought off angry tears. 

“Well it’s a little more cruel with an older kid, isn’t it? A baby wouldn’t remember where it came from, wouldn't know that the person who was supposed to love them the most in the world didn’t even try to get them back.”

Eddie closed the remaining distance between them and gathered her up in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she lost the fight against her own grief and broke down crying. He knew this pain—all too well. His own father hadn’t made the effort either, had been glad to be rid of his disappointing offspring, but he couldn’t imagine the same being true of this sweet, precious girl, would never have guessed their stories were so similar. 

He lost track of time after a while, no idea how long he and Chrissy hid away in his room while he consoled her, and maybe shed a few of his own tears for her as well as himself. But Eddie knew he needed to get back to work eventually. 

He needed to check on Steve. 

No, not—

Check in on—he needed to check in on Steve. See how far he’d made it, or if he’d given up already. That’s what Eddie meant. 

It was no longer merely the stipulations of his post that made him want to test the other boy. It was for Dustin’s sake, as much as anything now. If Steve wanted his little brother back he was going to have to earn it, and pay for his mistakes in the process.

He tried to convince Chrissy to stay behind. She looked exhausted after their talk, and he wanted nothing more than to tuck her into his bed and let her rest until it was over, but she refused. 

She was going to be there for him through this no matter what.

When they did finally return to court, Eddie took up his spot on the throne while Chrissy stood like a sentry just behind him. 

The goblins all gathered excitedly around on the floor in front of him, the scene so reminiscent of toddler story time at the public library that Eddie nearly broke character. He managed to hide his throaty giggle behind a cough, or so he thought until Dustin glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow.  

The boy had joined them as well, and seemed, inexplicably, like he was trying to make friends. Specifically with three of the smallest goblins, who he was calling Mike, Will, and Lucas respectively. The goblins already had names of course, but even Eddie had to admit they were notoriously difficult to pronounce, and besides, the three seemed to be enjoying the attention, as well as their new given monikers.  

Eddie lounged back in his seat, attempting to give off an air of casualness as if this were any other day, and conjured two of his crystals in hand. Dustin gasped at the small show of power, and Eddie couldn’t help smirking to himself.

He concentrated on the two spheres, rolling them around each other, swirling them in his palm and thinking of Steve until the first images began to appear within.

In one he saw pieces of the recent past—Steve coming across Robin, the two of them bickering which ended in her relenting and showing him the way inside. Eddie was definitely going to have to do something about that. After all, he couldn't have his subjects out there aiding his adversary. 

The image warped and changed, and then Steve was conversing with one of the labyrinth’s many colorful worms, somehow convincing her to help him as well. In fact, had he continued to listen to her he might have even found one of the shortcuts that led directly to the castle—Steve’s arrogance getting in his own way. 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to the other crystal, his window into the now, and watched as Steve ranted and raved about the unfairness of the world and the audacity of the labyrinth to change right under his nose, even as he tried to adapt. 

Refusing to acknowledge the pang of sympathy that shot through him at Steve’s plight, Eddie let out a low chuckle, focusing instead on Max and Jane as they explained their rules, and wondered how Steve would handle the riddle. 

“No, no that’s not,” Eddie muttered to himself and sat bolt upright, the smile falling off his face as he stared at the scene playing out in his hand. “He can’t do that!”

“Do what?” Chrissy asked, leaning over his shoulder. 

At the same time Dustin cried out, “What’s happening?!”

“He’s guessing,” Eddie snarled, breaking his concentration for a moment to address the kid. “For all your monologuing about his abilities, that so-called brother of yours is out here blindly guessing, like jumping into fire and hoping for the best!”

“I told you.” Dustin grinned. “See? He’s so brave.”

“That’s not bravery, it’s idiocy!”

Eddie fumed, returning his attention to the crystals just in time to see Steve step through Jane’s door, and immediately fall from sight.

Fuck.

His heart clenched. It was the right door, Steve had gotten lucky, again, but it didn’t mean he was completely out of harm's way. 

A drop like that…

“Helping hands,” Chrissy whispered.

Thankfully much of the magic Eddie wielded was instinctual, there weren't a lot of fancy complicated motions to perform or words to say. As long as he knew his capabilities and his intention was clear, it was, for the most part, easy enough. 

Without thinking twice Eddie tossed the balls into the air, sending them back to whatever limbo they lived in when he wasn’t using them, and took a deep breath. He let his eyes roll back, for a moment in his mind becoming the dark shaft Steve was currently plummeting down, before forcing it to change. Countless pairs of hands sprouted from the curved walls—hands Eddie controlled that reached out to catch Steve mid-air, bringing him to a sudden halt.

With a dozen or more sets of hands and fingers Eddie held on, mostly gripping Steve by his arms and legs, but for security a few cradled his bottom, and fuck Eddie never dreamed he’d get to touch Steve's luscious ass for real, but he would have preferred it under different, and definitely more consensual circumstances than these. 

He did his best to ignore the fire that began to burn in his belly at the feel of it, which wasn’t all that hard to do when he finally looked into Steve’s eyes.   

It was something he’d never seen on the other boy’s face until now—terror, pure terror. Eddie thought back to all the months of watching Steve, and remembered the one and only other time he’d seen Steve anywhere near this level of fear, when that asshole friend of his, Tommy Hagan, had tried to get him to climb the town’s water tower. 

Steve was afraid of heights—of falling.  

As hard as he was holding onto Steve, Steve was holding right back just as desperately, lacing his fingers with some of Eddie’s. Not that the other boy knew they were Eddie’s, all Steve would see in front of him were hands the color of stone.

The warmth from before traveled up into Eddie’s chest, his skin breaking out in goosebumps at the touch of Steve’s hand, and that reaction was enough to finally snap him out of it. 

What was Eddie doing? 

He didn’t want Steve to die, sure, but who cared if he was afraid? He should be. This was all his own fault.

With another shift of his will, the eyelashes fluttering on his physical body where it still sat on his throne, Eddie manipulated some of the hands to form faces and mouths, like some bizarre version of shadow puppets, and used them to speak.

“Come on, come on, we haven't got all day.” 

“W-w-what do you mean?!” Steve asked, stuttering.

“Which way?”

Steve swallowed audibly, repeating the question back to them. “Which way?”

“Up, or down?”

Down!” Steve quickly shouted. “Down. Yes, please, down.”

“Then down you go—”

Perhaps a little slower than was necessary for mere survival, but still fast enough to have Steve kicking and screaming, Eddie passed him down from one group of hands to the next, until the narrow shaft opened up into a small room, and he had no choice but to let the other boy drop the last few feet to the dirt floor below. 

It was less of a room and more of a dungeon, actually. A place to put things or people and forget about them. Which is probably what Eddie should be doing now, but he had other plans in mind for Steve. 

Eddie pulled himself abruptly out of the vision, thankful he was seated or he might have fallen over from the impact of suddenly being more solid in his own body. 

Chatter erupted all around the room, everyone present shouting questions at him at once. 

“What is it?”

“What’s happening?”

“Where is the human now, King Eddie?”

“He’s in the oubliette,” Eddie stated plainly. 

The gathered party, minus Dustin and Chrissy, erupted into cheers and laughter. Which just made Eddie feel bad for Steve all over again, and a little gross for scaring him, which then made him angry, and—

Eddie panted, out of breath like he’d been holding it. How was Steve doing this to him? 

“Quiet!” He shouted in a rage, narrowed eyes raking over his people. “Why are you celebrating? Clearly we’ve been going too easy on him. He shouldn’t have even made it this far, he should have given up by now!” 

The goblins were enthusiastic in their agreement, save for the three that’d been bonding with Dustin, who were a little quieter in their enjoyment of the festivities, and giving little sideways glances to their new friend. 

Dustin paid them no attention, his eyes glued squarely on Eddie’s figure. ”Steve would never give up!”

Eddie stood, looming over the young boy. “We’ll see how true that is when I have one of my people lead him back to the beginning. All that work and he’ll be right back at square one!”

Chapter 3: Underground

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[piedpiperart]

Phantom of Gotham 9

Chapter 8

Jason wasn’t worried. He wasn’t. He was just coming by to drop off some case files and say hi to Alfred. It was just a coincidence that he would check on Danny when he got there. It just so happens that he was also here to drop off some of Danny’s stuff from the Pizzeria. Jason was not getting attached.

Danny had been through a lot the past few days, what with being homeless and dealing with winter only to be snatched by the big bad Red Hood and dropped off at a literal mansion. As a street kid himself, Jason knew the change could be a bit overwhelming and he didn’t want any of his brothers making anything worse. Tim and Damian were not the most helpful, and neither had been on the streets like Danny and Jason. So maybe he was worried and a bit attached to the snarky teen, but he definitely wasn’t staying at the manor longer than he had to. 

Climbing the stairs with a duffel bag of the kids' stuff, he made a beeline for the kitchen to hopefully sneak in some of Alfred’s breakfast platter. Imagine his surprise when he heard voices coming from the kitchen so early in the morning. 

Jason turned the corner to find the usual arrangement of breakfast foods on the counter, but with the demon child sitting petulantly by the counter with Danny on the opposite side, holding a spatula out to him menacingly. 

“It’s supposed to be a giraffe!” Danny exclaimed, exasperated. Jason could see he was in some of Tim's clothes, but more baffling was that he was… making pancakes… in Alfred’s kitchen. 

“This looks nothing like a giraffe, Folson,”Damian scowled at his plate. “You should stop making those and eat before it goes cold.”

“You just don’t appreciate art,”Danny sniffed playfully, turning back to the stove. 

Damian gaped indignantly, about to retort when Jason entered the room. “What’s all this about giraffes?” Jason asked. Danny turned to him, a bit surprised, but elated all the same. 

“Pancake art!” Danny exclaimed, turning to plop something on a plate and pushing it towards the counter. “I helped Alfred with breakfast, he’s going to wake the other people that uh, live here, but he’ll be back soon.”

“I would not call it art,” Damian grumbled. Jason snorted and sat down at the counter next to Damian, passing the duffel bag over the counter to Danny.

“Red Hood dropped off your stuff,”Jason explained when Danny raised an eyebrow at him. The kid perked up and took the bag to rummage through.”I’m Jason by the way, second oldest around here.”

“Ah, thanks for the stuff. I’m Danny,”Danny smiled. He eventually closed the bag and slid it to a corner that would be relatively in disturbed. Jason couldn’t help but wonder where he used to live, or if he had any family. Tim was supposedly doing a background check on the kid last night though, so Jason figured he’d get the information sooner or later. Meanwhile Jason looked at the plate he was handed, only to find what looked like a gingerbread man in pancake form and what was maybe a butterfly. Or a clover. 

Whatever. Jason shrugged, piling other things on his plate. He cut into the human pancake only for something red and squishy to come out of the middle. “What the fuck?” Jason frowned.

Danny looked up from where he was at the stove, confused before looking towards Jason’s plate. “Oh! The human pancake has strawberries inside, so when you cut them up it’s like guts.” Danny informed him.

Damian looked offended, and Jason barked out a laugh. “Why would you do such a thing?” Damian scowled. 

Danny shrugged. “Used to make pancakes with my sister. We got creative,”Danny smirked. “Besides, art is subjective. I can see why you wouldn’t appreciate such a masterpiece.”

“Yeah Damian. You wish you could have a pancake as cool as this.” Jason laughed, taking a bite of the surprisingly good strawberry pancake. He wondered what Bruce would think of the human pancake. Did this count as murder?

“I am not surprised that you came up with something so childish. The one you gave me definitely looks like something a child would do,”Damian stated flatly, busying himself with some eggs.

“I told you it’s a giraffe! Look, it’s got eyes and spots and everything!” Danny complained, gesturing with the spatula. Jason grinned, leaning over to catch a glimpse of the thing, and he could kind of see the resemblance. It looked more like a hippo with chocolate chip spots and a long neck with a head so small the two blueberry eyes barely fit on it. 

“Yep, looks like a giraffe to me,”Jason confirmed, smiling easily at the glare Damian returned. “Still not as cool as the human pancake, or this other one. Butterfly?”

“Exactly! See Damian, even Jason knows art,”Danny proclaimed. Seeing Damian getting worked up over pancake art was pretty funny, but Jason had to admit he was surprised Danny hadn’t been stabbed yet. “But it’s okay, I can teach you my secret pancake art making skills next time. Then we can make them together!”

Jason smirked as Danny’s offer halted the rage in Damian’s eyes. A glint of challenge lit up in the kids eye. “You would not need to teach me anything, I have no doubt I’d be better at it than you and your… giraffe.” Damian scoffed.

Danny pursed his lips, turning mysteriously,”We shall see, young grasshopper. You may have much to learn from master pancakers like me.” He said sagely. 

“Stop that. Pancakers is not a word, idiot, and it can’t be that hard,”Damian frowned. Danny just hummed, and Damian sighed, seemingly given up on entertaining the conversation any longer. “Now stop making your abominations and eat already. There is enough food here and it’s getting cold.”

Danny sighed dramatically. “Alright,”he drawled, but abandoned the pancake station to grab a plate. Jason couldn’t tell what pancake he’d gotten, but it looked like a ghost from where he was sitting. “Hey Damian,”Danny whispered. 

Damian huffed, but turned to Danny sitting next to him and asked in a normal yet exasperated voice,”What?”

“What do ghosts eat?” Danny whispered, and Damian frowned. 

“What are you talking about?” Damian squinted. 

“Boo-berries,”Danny whispered, and  lifted his plate so Damian could see the ghost shaped pancake with blueberries for eyes. The teenager looked on with a satisfied smile as Damian got the joke.

Jason snorted when Damian gave him a flat stare in return. “How old are you?” Damian asked seriously. “I refuse to believe someone so childish is actually attending highschool.”

“Don’t let Dick hear you say that,”Jason smirked. 

“Grayson is worse than Danny,”Damian grunted. Danny blinked at the two of them, out of the loop a bit. “But at least he doesn’t look like a twelve year old in addition.”

“I know I’m short and all but I’m actually 16,” Danny complained. Jason frowned, seeing Danny had only put the single pancake on his plate. Was the kid not hungry? Jason wondered. 

Before Damian could say anything, Tim bounded around the corner, coffee in hand. “Jason, you would not believe what I just found out about- Danny!” Tim cut himself off to exclaim when he caught sight of the teen sitting next to Damian. Tim looked between the three, bewildered. “What uh, what are you doing here?”

“Tim?! Did you get kidnapped too?!” Danny exclaimed with wide eyes. How many people lived in this mansion, he thought incredulously.

“What? No, I um, I live here. What happened?” Tim asked, looking between the three of them. Jason just snorted, so Tim shot him a glare, knowing it was somehow Jason’s fault he was unaware about his friend. 

“Um. Well,”Danny started, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know the vigilante Red Hood? He kinda picked me up and brought me here last night, but I’m only staying until the weather lets up, and then I’ll go back home.”

The three of them frowned at the explanation. “Huh, okay, why would Red Hood kidnap you?” Tim asked, shooting Jason a look. 

“I dunno,” Danny shrugged. “I was fine on my own, but I think he thought I was ‘unprepared for winter’ or something like that.”

“I heard you were camped out in a building with no heat or water, so he brought you here so you wouldn’t freeze to death during the blizzard,”Jason scoffed. Danny shrugged again.

“Same thing,” Danny said, much to Jason’s exasperation. He glanced at Tim, fidgeting uncomfortably. “Sorry, this is probably really weird for you. I’m not staying long, I promise.”

Damian turned his frown on Tim, surprisingly, and Tim scrambled to reassure his friend. “What? No- no you can stay as long as you need to, I don’t mind. And you’re always welcome here.” Tim finished lamely.

“Yes, and I doubt anyone here would let you go back to being homeless when we have so many resources to help you,”Damian added. Danny’s face contorted to one of panic.

“I really don’t need help, promise,”Danny said hurriedly, glancing to his bag of stuff. Jason rolled his eyes at his siblings. They were obviously freaking the kid out. 

“Quiet down,”Jason said. He looked to Danny,”No one’s gonna force you to do anything you don’t wanna do. We just wanna make sure you’re okay, whatever your plan is.”

Danny paused, but nodded after a second. The table was quiet after that, mostly because Jason was glaring at the other two to shut up about it. He didn’t really understand why Damian was so adamant about Danny staying either, but it really wasn’t helping. “So,”Jason started. “Have you had the tour yet?”

“Oh- no,”Danny stammered,”I saw the library though. And a living room? I think?” 

Damian nodded. “He arrived late last night, but had cocoa with Alfred in the living room,”Damian reported. “I am not sure to when you visited the library though.”

Danny’s smile turned sheepish,”I uh, couldn’t sleep so I went to get some water. Ended up at the library and just, read for a while.”

Jason perked up at the mention of books, but didn’t get a chance to ask before Damian pointedly passed some fruit over to Danny. “You know there’s plenty of food. You don’t have to eat so little.”

“Uh, I’m not that hungry,”Danny said nonchalantly, but picked out some fruit anyways, if only to get Damian to stop staring. 

Tim startled at the comment, but soon picked up his own plate, piling food onto it and staring in confusion at the precarious pile of mishshapen pancakes. “Uh, what are these?”

“Pancake art!” Danny chirped, mood sufficiently brightened. Damian on the other hand, frowned at Tim. 

“Alfred and Danny cooked breakfast this morning,”Jason crowed. Tim’s eyes widened in awe when he looked to Danny.

“He let you cook?” Tim asked. Danny nodded, confused at the reaction. “He never lets anyone cook. Except Jason.”

“Really?” Danny asked, looking thoughtful. “It was fun. How come no one else can cook?”

“Because they suck at it,”Jason smirked, dodging the blueberry thrown at him by Damian. “Timbo’s only allowed to touch the coffee machine, but otherwise the rest of the family is banned from Alfred’s kitchen.”

“Cooking is a waste of time when Pennyworth is perfectly capable,”Damian reasoned. 

Danny sighed. “I guess you don’t want to learn the art of pancakes then,”He teased, making Damian freeze.

“I am sure I would be allowed in the kitchen to participate,” Damian stated, albeit hesitantly. 

“I’ll have to come by for breakfast tomorrow then to help judge,” Jason mused. 

“You could join us!” Danny exclaimed, then continued mischievously. “Tim and Damian can be on a team since they suck and we can be on the team of winners.” 

“Wha- that’s not fair,”Tim complained. “Why not split up the good cooks and bad cooks?”

“You saying you can’t beat us?” Jason wiggled an eyebrow challengingly.

“No,”Damian objected at the same time Tim said yes. They traded looks. 

“Alright then, Drake and I will prove to you we are superior at your weird pancake art. Even if Drake is unhelpful, we’ll still make better art than your human pancake.”

“Human what?” Tim asked. Jason snorted, but stabbed one from the pancake plate and plopped it onto Tim’s plate. 

“Try one,”Jason said, and the other two watched in anticipation as Tim warily cut into the pancake. 

“What the fuck?”

Chapter 10

[fandomout]

Chapter 9

Chapters- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Story Description-Wanda has used you to bring back her brother. She erased your memory. Can Wanda keep this up and end it without anyone getting hurt?

Previous Chapter Description-Tension was running high between Y/N and Wanda. Matters only get worse as they get held up in a high risk situation at the store in front of civilians.

Having been shot and exhausted Y/N’s powers, Wanda watched as they fell to the ground. 

Wanda’s vision come and goes with spots of black and white, and she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Pietro stood frozen at the events until Wanda’s sniffling alerted him once more. Pietro became active as he lifted Wanda’s shooken state and made his way over to Y/N. He leaned Wanda on the counter and rushed to sweep her body into his arm as he kneeled on the ground. He tried to shake them awake with pleas of, “Y/N?! Y/N?!” A response couldn’t be mustered from Y/N’s spent body. To no one in particular, he whimpered out, “What do I do?” He hugged them as close as he could, pleading, “Please.” 

 With Pietro losing control, Wanda tried to calm herself by letting out a few deep breaths. Shakely, she asks Pietro, “Is Y/N breathing?”

“I-” 

He pulls their body in close and feels and hears them breathing, so he nods in response. Wanda holds at her stomach feeling a bit nauseous as she keeps her eyes away from the sight and moves a bit from the strong metal smell. 

Wanda says, “Good. Uh. Apply pressure to the wound? I think that’s all we can do until…uh…”

“I can run to the hospital?” 

“But-I-Okay do it.”

“I’ll be right back for you, okay?” Wanda nods.

Pietro speeds off and gets to a hospital in seconds screaming out, “Please help! Ple-“

When they take Y/N from his arms and onto a stretcher, Pietro feels a breathlessness that even running couldn’t cause. He pushed himself remembering Wanda. He took a small breath before rushing to Wanda. He grabs her shaking body, but he stops not even half way from the hospital. 

In the middle of a dirt road, his knees meet the ground with a thud, and his arms begin to tremble. Although he tried to regain strength and get back up, he ended up trying to let Wanda down onto the ground gently, which more or less worked as his arms gave out.

Wanda blinks aggressively and looks around only to see only trees. She looks to see Pietro huffing and puffing, and the site makes her heart clench. In her shaking state, her hand touches his cheek even though the touch doesn't bring him back. She barely voices out, “Are you okay?” 

He can only muster a shake of the head and small cracks to say, “What if they…”

Wanda knows what he means as he can’t finish his words, and her mouth wavers as she admits, “Pietro…I did something bad.” He doesn’t respond as he keeps trying to get his force back; however, Wanda’s whole body tensed and relaxed as her mind keeps running. She only feels some kind of relief when he’s able to breathe to an extent again and asks, “What?”

Wanda responds, “You were hurt so bad, and I found Y/N because of SHIELD. I’ve been using them to heal you…”

“Wanda, didn’t you already tell me this?”

“Yeah, but I did it without permission. I don’t know if they are looking for me, but I don’t want them to find us. I know I said we were going to the tower. I mean we were on our way…Just honestly, I didn't know if we should because of what could happen…I’ve been lying to you so much…I-I’m sorry. There’s so much I haven’t been saying…I-I hope you can forgive me…It’s bad. It-” 

He hugs her as her body violently shakes and tells her, “Thank you for telling me.”

“No. Pietro, you don't understand…All the lies-”

“You were just protecting me and caring for me. I get it. All you did was get into a system. It's not like anyone got hurt. No harm done. Everything is working out. Okay?”

“I-” Wanda couldn’t bring herself to tell the whole truth, but she feels a little pressure leave her body. She can only nod at him and notches as he stays quiet on the ground. His hand reaches for his heart with his eyes closed, and she sees him hitching his breath for air. She states, “Let’s take a second, huh?” She grabbed his shoulder. His eyes shot open, and he lifted his head. He raced to lift his body only to crumple back to the ground. He barely caught himself with his head close to the ground. Wanda exclaimed, “Pietro!”

He looks at her and says, “We should get going.” 

“Pietro take a second…” 

He shakes his head and strains to say, “Y/N…It-It-uhh-hurts.” Wanda straightens her body to take a look at him, and her eyes go back to Pietro's hand that still lies on his heart. She soothes his back with her hand and repeats, “Take a second.” He doesn’t say anything as his breath huffs in and out of his body. 

Finally, Pietro stands without warning, and he softly utters, “I don’t think I can run us to the hospital…”

“It’s okay. Let's just walk it. We’ll check on Y/N. Then, get you some food and water.” He shrugged and started walking. His hands together and covering his chest. Wanda grabs one of those hands as they begin their walk. 

When they arrive, they’ve calmed slightly and ask for Y/N. Eventually, a doctor 

directs them to sit, and Pietro's body gives out and plops onto the chair. Unwillingly, he takes Wanda’s commands to eat and drink. Pietro’s mind flashes to the previous scene of Y/N, and it makes his body tense up even more. He ached for them to be okay.

Eventually, a doctor came up to them with an update. Pietro rose to his feet giving himself whiplash along with dizziness. The doctor held their hand up and went over to them and explained, “The surgery went well. We got the bleeding under control, and the bullet placement wasn’t lethal. Luckily, the bullet placement wasn’t impossible.” 

Pietro asks, “So, they are okay?”

“The injuries they came for? Yes…However, there is a concern…” 

“Oh god…What is it?”

“The brain activity they have is concerning. We will monitor. Sometimes trauma to the body causes the body to shut down to heal, so they could end up in a-“

“A comma…”

“Ah-Actually, yes. It’s possible, so we are monitoring. If you have any questions, let me know.”

“Can we see Y/N?”

“I’m afraid only family is allowed.”

“I- But-”

“I’m sorry. Hospital rules. Unless you're married.”

“No.”

“Sorry. I can't help you. Regardless, they are resting.” 

The doctor waved them off to go to talk to the nurse at the front desk. Pietro’s eyes never leave the doctor, and he nudges Wanda. She raises her hands very slightly before she shakes her head at Pietro. “What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t right now.” Pietro sees her face drop and her eyes tear up. He hugs her close as she cries trying to soothe her. 

After a moment, Wanda pulled away, and she softly said, “Go see Y/N.”

“Wanda, I can’t just leave you and you heard what the doctor said.” “Pietro, I think you forgot something.” “What?”

“You’re faster than this.”

“I’m not dumb-I-Oh…”

“Yeah.” They look at each other before bursting out laughing. He nods and asks, “You don’t want to come?”

“No. You go. I’m good here for the moment.” 

“You sure?”

“Very sure.” 

He gave her one last look, and she gave him a small smile. He darted off into the hospital without noticing Wanda’s smile drop. 

He looked through every room; finally, he found Y/N’s room on one of the higher floors in the hospital. Through the small window in the door, his eyes catch their bodies lower half. His hand strained on the door handle before he leaned on the door for a moment. 

The ding of an elevator alerted him to stand straight. His legs bounced up and down restless as he rushed inside. The site of seeing them covered in wires and blood smeared hands. He sits down in the seat near the bed, and he grasps their hand. His hands started to shake. He puts his forehead onto their hand before whimpering out, “I’m so sorry…Maybe we should’ve just went to the tower. This never would’ve happened…” 

He looked at Y/N’s peaceful face and smiled slightly as he continued to say, “If you were awake, I bet you’d say something along the lines of it’s not like I’d know this was going to happen…I’d probably be convinced by you…You’re good at that.” He laughs to himself slightly before he looks at all the dried blood on his hands. His breath goes shallow. Tears finally free from his eyes, and he continues to say, “I…I should be fast enough…I am…I swear. Just the gun…it…” 

His eyes close, and his tears fall onto Y/N. Soon after, he leaned on their hand and started calming down in their presence and touch. The effect was so strong that all the exhaustion hit until he fell asleep on Y/N’s hand. 

When he woke up, a nurse was shaking him awake, and he woke up with a jolt. The nap and previous crying made him feel groggy. The nurse grabbed his shoulder trying to pull him out of the room.

Pietro was quick to apologize, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see them.”

The nurse answered, “Well, you’ve done that. Time to go. Do I need to call security?” 

“No. I’m going…” 

He trembled as he bent down to kiss Y/N’s hand; then, he left the room and headed back to Wanda.

As he neared the waiting room, he stopped short from the site of Wanda sitting in the same seat previous with no movement. He sees her blank expression. He waited for a few seconds and hardly anything changed. Worry filling him for her, so he sees no other option but to collect himself. He took a few seconds while he breathed in and out. He thought of your hugs and caresses, and it helped him once more. 

With a recollected state, he walked over to sit beside Wanda. Wanda didn’t move one bit. Pietro reached for her arm, and she jumped. His eyes went wide at the action. She barely mumbled out, “Sorry.” He faked a smile and nudged her with his shoulder to reply, “It’s okay. Didn’t realize I looked that terrible, but I must be to get you jumping.” Wanda couldn’t even manage the smallest of smiles or any change in expression and shrugged at him. He puts his arm around her to hug her close and mentioned, “They say Y/N’s okay. Really…It’s just the coma thing. Y/N’ll get out of it though. I mean after all the times they helped me before. They’d been using their powers for a while then…It lasted a while, but they woke up. They will this time too.” Wanda shuddered at his words. He rubbed her arm and put his hand to her hair to calm her. Her exhausted state finally feeling itself give out. Her eyes close, and she falls asleep in his hold. 

After almost a week, they were both getting a bit restless. While Pietro would go to see you as long as he was allowed to without anyone knowing, Wanda still hadn’t seen you. 

At the time, Pietro was checking on you as usual with Wanda waiting in her seat. Wanda sat with her head in her hands when she heard someone clear her throat. A new doctor was present in front of her. The doctor smiled and grabbed at the clip bored slightly fidgeting with it. The doctor said, “Hello, Ms. Maximoff?” Wanda nodded; however, the doctor didn’t speak. Wanda stood and asked, “Is Y/N okay?”

“Y/N? The patient…well-”

“Did something happen?”

“Don’t worry, just-You’ll understand when I show you. Follow me.” Wanda nodded and followed. Even with her mind occupied she couldn’t help notice the halls were a little more crowded than usual. Wanda convinced herself she was just trying to distract herself, but she knew she should focus on the issue at hand. 

They walked for a good while, and it gave Wanda’s nerves more time to build. They walked not only all the way outside but towards the back of the hospital, which was almost completely empty. 

Wanda finally blurted, “What do you need to show me?!” 

The doctor dropped his clipboard and rushed to pick it back up. Wanda kneeled down to help pick up the papers and apologized. The doctor looked at her with what looked like fear. Then, a glimmer caught Wanda’s eye. The glimmer came from a gun seemingly concealed by the hospital coat. 

Wanda’s eyes glowed, and she used her abilities to push the doctor rolling back on the ground. Wanda’s eyes glowed in menace, and she yelled, “What do you want from me?!” Her hand quickly raised. 

Suddenly, her hands are put behind her back before her hand is locked in a bulky set of handcuffs. She groans as she struggles against the new forces on her and tries to let her powers flow, but it results in nothing. She looked around frantically to see agents multiplying.

The agent behind her forced her face down onto the ground, and she exclaimed, “Hey!”

The weight on her was removed shortly after; then, she felt someone lift her and set her on her feet. 

She raised her head to see Agent Hill in front of her. Agent Hill gives her a small smile and addresses Wanda, “Wanda, I apologize for the treatment. It was certainly not our intention that they treat you so roughly.” Agent Hill stares down her agent that restrained you, and they look away. 

Wanda looks to see how scared the fake doctor is and how other agents carry him away from her. Wanda narrows her eyes and asks, “What’s going on?”

Maria answers, “Right now, we’re taking you and your brother back to the tower.”

“Pietro! You-”

“He’s fine. Sedated, but he isn’t harmed. Don’t worry. Now, we’re heading out.”

“But, no! I don’t understand! Let me go! Let my broth-” 

An agent sedates Wanda. Wanda lets out gibberish, and the last thing she hears is Maria say, “I’ll let Fury explain.”

Wanda wakes up laying down on a hospital bed in a room, but her hands are still within the weird cuffs. There’s a screen in front of her. Wanda narrows her eyes around the scene and asks, “What’s going on?” Nasha is about to speak when Fury aggressively clears his throat. He wore a stern expression and he answered, “Isn’t it obvious? I’m protecting them from you.”

“Fury-” Natsha tried to interject. 

“Do you see the agent you were just talking to?” Fury points to the fake doctor and Wanda looks at their terrified expression as they need help being lifted by fellow agents. “What exactly were you going to do with them?” Fury narrows his eyes.

“I-” Wanda looks down. 

“Exactly you-”

Natsha cuts him off this time to say, “She’s got to defend herself. What else? Not only is she supposed to trust this doctor, but the doctor could do her harm and lie. What did you think was gonna happen to Fury? Honestly, I don’t think this has been your best plan.” Natsha shook her head and Fury. 

It riled up Fury as he clenched his jaw, and he looked like he wanted to say something to Natasha. Instead, he looked back to Wanda and asked, “What did you think was gonna happen when you had your little store fiasco? The witnesses are all talking about your powers.”

“I didn-”

“How is your brother even alive?”

“I-” 

One of the agents' radios goes off, and they all hear, “The twin is secured. Over.” Wanda eyes scrunch in anger, and she yells, “You captured my brother?!”

“We don’t know how dangerous he is. He shouldn't even be alive. Did you think anything through?”

“No! But, that doesn’t give you any right to treat us like this! We’re still human!” Fury sighed and touched the bridge of his nose before starting to walk out of the room. He looks to Natasha and warns, “The cuffs stay on.” 

Natasha walks closer towards the bed. Wanda lets out a huff of air and comments, “Yeah. Fury is actually as rough on the edges as he seems.”

“Natasha, what are they going to do to him?”

“Honestly, I don’t know…I saw the news and what happened. Even after realizing it was you, I didn’t expect any of this to happen. I know we deal with some crazy cases. That being said, I'm still surprised about all of this…Uh…So, how is it to have your brother back?”

“Besides everything it took…It’s him. Despite everything, this is still better than before when he was gone. I couldn’t ask for anything more…” Natshas’s pocket beeps, and Wanda nods her head towards the door and says, “Go ahead and take it.”

“Alright. It’s probably just Steve. He should be coming in here soon. Then, maybe things will move along better for you.” Natasha smiles and opens the door. 

“Natasha?”

“Yeah?”

“It feels like so long ago, but honestly thank you.” Nstasha smirks and nods before leaving,

As she finds herself alone in the hallway, she makes a call that soon goes through.

“Hey Nat, what’s up?”

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“The twins are back here.”

“The twin-What?”

“He’s alive.”

“He’s alive?”

“He is.”

“He’s alive! How in the-”

“None of us know. That’s what Fury wants to figure out. I just wanted to make sure you know. You beat yourself up for that for so long-”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“You should be seeing me soon.”

“I figured.”

“What the hell is going on there?”

“Honestly, things have been crazier than usual, so I can’t even tell you.”

“Well, see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

If anyone wants to be tagged, let me know.

Hope your day got better

@ifilwtmfc @dumbasscorn @paryl @cicatraize @blithecapricorn @confuscita @the-camilucha @ultramarinecupcake @nickangel13 @morganasimp26

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 8

pairing ; childe x gender neutral! reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none

notes ; listen guys. i can explain. rly tho, i’ve been horribly busy with school stuff and for a long time i wasn’t rly inspired to write but i got SOME free time now and managed to finish this bad boy up!

sadly, kind of a boring chapter imo, just a LOT of continuing childe’s story quest. i’ve mentioned a bunch of times before how i hate writing by the quest dialogue and how tedious it is and i believe that’s partially why i couldn’t continue writing for a bit. anyway, i promise i’ll try to get the next chapter out sooner as next chapter WILL have some things i’m looking forward to writing LOL

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the bright high noon sun shines against the blades of grass in the hills of qingxu pool, making the greenery seem like shards of vibrant emerald. the very same sun, unfortunately, nearly causes you to melt right then and there- with impossible steep peaks to cross and a whole child in your arms to carry. teucer had fallen asleep in your arms somewhere along the trip and he still snores soundly as you round up to the location childe had referred to earlier and where you immediately spot him, as well as some other men.

“found him! there’s childe!” paimon exclaims as she floats on ahead, effectively waking up teucer at the mention. he tries to move around and gather in his surroundings within your hold, sleepy eyes adjusting to the light once more.

as you get closer to the group, you find that the men childe is speaking to are… treasure hoarders. and it certainly didn’t look like the friendliest of exchanges, some kind debt collecting that lunatic does. you hear half of a taunt coming from childe when you approach earshot.

“…i suppose i should forgive you country bumpkins for your ignorance, for i am-“

“brother!” teucer yells excitedly and the harbinger freezes in his tracks the next second.

“you’re selling them toys, aren’t you, brother? that’s so cool, i’ve always wanted to watch you work!”

childe stammers. “w-why yes, of course! for i am, uh…

…the greatest toy salesman in snezhnaya!”

oh, for the tsaritsa’s sake. this time, you truly cannot fight the involuntary reaction within your muscles to facepalm at his half-assed save, if you can even call it that. though, what makes it worse is when he raises his fists triumphantly, clapping as if there was nothing wrong with what he said.

“so cool!”

“…huh?” says one of the treasure hoarders.

“you playin’ games, pretty boy?” goes another and you snort at the nickname.

“so, will you buy, or not? the toys that snezhnaya produced three months ago will run you.. yes, six hundred thousand mora- to be paid in full.”

another treasure hoarder chokes on his breath. “t-toys..? a-and how much mora…?”

“wow, is that what it’s gonna cost to fix that head of yours?”

the three hoarders bark out in mocking laughter. childe doesn’t seem to be dissuaded in the slightest, in fact his eyes drop into a lethally serious glare.

“i’ll say it again- toys from snezhnaya. three months prior. six hundred thousand mora. paid in full.”

“yeah… no, sorry, salesboy. the same joke isn’t funny twice. or were you always cruisin’ for a bruisin’?”

the harbinger sighs. “alright then, i’ll make things a little easier for you- i’ll join the treasure hoarders. perhaps you’ll be more willing to pay when we’re brothers-in-arms?”

you frown, slightly skeptical of childe’s methods of negotiation. however, you know better than anyone that childe, for all that he seems, is not an idiot. he’s just as aware of the means as he is of the ends and he wouldn’t be making statements like those with such certainty for nothing.

“hah- would you listen t’yourself?! you think we just let any old person into the treasure hoarders? i’m not so sure you could hack it…”

“heh, well then, why don’t you put me to the test, dear seniors? i like to think of myself as quite talented in the field of treasure hunting.”

“hmm.. looks like you’re not gonna pack it up until someone packs you in. alright then, show us what you got.”

the leading treasure hoarder proceeds with the proposition of a challenge where childe would have to collect some loot on a nearby hill within a time limit set by them. while you could see the hill from where you were, it was impossibly far to reach on foot in such a short amount of time. a tinge of worry creeps into the back of your neck and you shoot childe a concerned look, which he receives like he’s perfectly understood your silent doubts.

in return, he only cheekily winks to you and takes off.

he expertly uses the powerful gusts of wind shooting nearby to cut the path toward the hill in short and before you can even think of keeping track of his movements, he’s back with a small chest in hand- nonchalantly brushing dust off his uniform.

“well, i have the goods, here you go. so how’d i do? pretty well, i’d say.” childe smirks.

one of the other treasure hoarders starts sweating and whispers worryingly over to his fellow bandit. the leader turns back to childe, somewhat containing his shock.

“please… hold on a moment, sir. we need to discuss something amongst ourselves.”

the three turn to a small circle, where they mutter back and forth to each other, unintelligibly to you. periodically, one of the hoarders throws childe a quick, fearful look to ensure that he’s not becoming impatient- lest something freakier than his show of inhuman speed happens. finally, the leader turns back.

“so, mister.. salesman. my apologies but we can’t have you joining us.”

“oh? i didn’t pass? i must say i never imagined that the treasure hoarders would have such strict entry requirements…” childe replies unimpressed.

“no, i-it’s not that- ..what we mean is you’re too big a fish for our little pond. but we fully understand the situation with the uh… toys, sir. we’ll fetch that six hundred thousand mora for you right away.”

you scoff, shaking your head incredulously at how… somehow childe managed to get his way with such a ridiculous front to impress his brother. teucer, on the other hand, could not be happier with the outcome.

“that’s my brother for you! toy sellers are so cool!”

some rustling of grass from behind you grabs your attention and you instinctively tense your shoulders, hand ready and reaching out towards teucer if you had to protect him from an unexpected ambush by the sour treasure hoarders. fortunately, the arriving individual turns out to be a familiar fatui employee, felix. he recognizes your presence with a curt bow-like gesture before directing himself towards the harbinger.

“ah, master childe, you’re here. a new batch of fresh recruits have just-“

“hey now, keep your voice down. can’t you see i’m entertaining some clients over here?”

“clients? well uh… the motherland has dispatched a new batch of recruits to liyue. they’ve just arrived and i’m afraid we must ask you to speak to them.”

“ugh, do i have to? now is hardly the best time…”

you decide to interject with a suggestion. “couldn’t signora give them the initiation? she’s also an acting superior here in liyue.”

felix shakes his head. “i’m afraid the fair lady has already returned to the palace to attend to other affairs.”

dammit, you really couldn’t keep track of that woman. both you and childe seem to simultaneously deflate slightly at the news, as if you’d both imagined at the same time how hard it’d be to keep teucer satisfied and ignorant towards the truth with so many predicaments.

“i truly must apologize for troubling you, master childe, but they are already waiting for you south of lingju pass. every new batch of recruits must be baptized by the tsaritsa’s will through the words of her harbingers. this has always been our rule.”

childe groans and rolls his eyes petulantly.

“well, alright then, i’ll go. just give me a moment to catch up with my brother and i’ll be right with you.”

“do you have to keep working?” teucer finally speaks up, with his saddened tone from earlier returning.

“yes teucer, we have a group of new toy sellers fresh from the motherland and i need to go teach them the ropes.”

“that’s great! when i grow up, i wanna be a toy seller too. can i go listen?”

you stammer to answer quickly. “ah- maybe not now, teuce’. you’re still a little too young for that, bud.”

childe nods in agreement. “besides, most of it is rather boring. why don’t you go play with y/n and the traveler instead? sound good?”

teucer shoots out the most impossibly heart wrenching combo of big eyes and a pout towards his brother. “b-but.. but…”

“i really do have to go, teucer. a lot of people are waiting to see me. i’ll see you around, alright?”

the boy sighs melancholically and for a moment you do understand his side of the situation, but again you’re reminded of the harsh reality of the fatui and how hard it must be, no- how hard it has been to keep such a young, adventurous kid oblivious to all of it. it truly has not been easy for childe for his little brother to show up so absurdly unannounced.

the traveler and paimon are a few feet away, whispering to each other while teucer still sulks, and you catch a bit of their conversation.

“to think he’d go this far just to prevent his family from seeing his… dark side.”

“i wonder how much longer he can hide it from teucer…” the traveler responds.

“paimon wonders too. but hey, let’s at least help him

out while we’re out in liyue…

wait- where’s teucer?”

panic shoots up your spine chillingly and you turn around to where he just was, to find nothing. the few seconds you’d kept your eye off him he disappears. you scan the grasslands for teucer almost involuntarily, but no sign of him at all.

“ugh.. we were too busy chatting! where’d he go?”

you sigh frustratedly and stomp down the hill, eyes still vigilant. “dammit, i shouldn’t have taken my eyes off of him while he was still upset. not even for one second… of course he’s going after childe.”

—

“…from this day forward, you will honor the oaths you have made to her majesty the tsaritsa and you will stop at nothing to bring snezhnaya victory.”

you can still taste the very same oath you swore years ago on your tongue. you still remember how tense your shoulders stayed and shaky the fist held to your heart was, how harsh and vile the words of the fatui initiation sounded coming out of dottore’s mouth. and now, they sound just as sharp coming from childe- you find that it gives you an unpleasant feeling in your chest.

teucer and childe, and consequently the new recruits, were not at all hard to find. you approach the gathering to see teucer propped up on a nearby rock, head held in his hands as he attentively watched the ceremony. you truly wish you’d kept your eye on teucer before and stopped him from coming here. it’s hard to be reminded of childe’s cold and devoted demeanor when it came to the tsaritsa- though, cold and devoted is what you could call any of her followers.

for some reason, the occasion causes you to pause and watch a bit of the procedure yourself, but you don’t focus on how intense the harbinger’s words are, nor on how the recruits react to it. no, instead you focus on childe’s scars.

they’re so evenly distributed throughout his body, or at least what you can see of it, that it almost seems intentional. at any other time, you would’ve thought them to be artistic and beautif- but err, uhm… but now they only look like glaring reminders of childe’s nature as the tsaritsa’s weapon of war. you’ve always thought that was a baffling title to have.

you notice teucer stand up to wave to his brother in the distance.

“…for the trials that we face are harsh, and the enemies are like- ..ehm,”

childe also looks over to where you were at that very second, catching onto teucer’s excited movements. his eyes asses your group, then they trail over to you and the seconds where your eyes meet seems to last longer than it should- there’s a shocked shift in his gaze and it’s then that you realize you’d been frowning this whole time. the harbinger then regards his brother’s presence and he stutters on his sentence.

“a-ahem, like… kites a-and rattle drums.. who shall become redoubtable foes of mr. cyclops in the marketplaces of liyue..!”

you hear teucer approve of his message right next to you, although the recruits don’t seem entirely sold.

“this is, of course, an analogy. as they say, ‘the marketplace, too, is a battlefield.’”

nobody says that.

“so, as your… sales manager here in liyue, i demand that you obey my every order! a refusal shall be considered a betrayal, and the price for betrayal is to be dishonorably discharged from.. a-ahem, the institute of toy research.”

this time, he can’t stupidly get away with this, as both teucer and the recruits seem queasy about the statement- much to childe’s dismay. he looks down for a moment as if to consider his options and shoots up again.

“eh.. uh… forget it! perhaps a round of hands-on training will suit us better!”

just how in teyvat is this guy your superior?

as if everything could not become any more absurd, childe’s proposal seemed to utterly please the new recruits- they whisper and rave to each other about the huge honor that it would be to fight with the eleventh harbinger. you could see the duels’ ends before they even began, with all of these poor newbies licking the dirt as they’re kicked into ground by childe with minimal effort.

just as expected, it’s over rather quickly- though the recruits do hold up their own for longer than you anticipated against someone like childe.

“well then, do you all understand what i said earlier?” childe interrogates with nonchalant confidence, as if he wasn’t slipping up and stumbling on his own words earlier.

“yes, sir!” the recruits heave out exhaustedly.

“excellent, and you all almost managed to get me limbered up. in other words, you’ve done well- for new recruits.”

“thank you, lord harbinger!”

childe gives the recruits some more encouragement before dismissing them as soon as possible. once they take off, teucer takes the opportunity to run up and tell his brother how amazing he was just then.

“teucer- what in the world are you doing here? there i was thinking that these three had taken you to play at wangshu inn, aha!” childe says, the latter sentence is pointed, much like his subtle glare up at the three of you.

“you really did get stronger.” the traveler admits with dignity and childe’s ego, as if it hadn’t been inflated enough by the drooling recruits just now, seems to swell.

“hah, i told you, didn’t it? i never pass on an opportunity to improve my strength. i’m not the

man i was when we first met.”

“you didn’t go all out, though.” she teases.

“by that, i assume you mean i didn’t use foul legacy transformation, yes?”

“it puts a great strain on my body, so it’s best saved for crucial moments.”

your eyes lower into a warning glare, thought playful one. “as if i’d ever let you use it in a situation like this.”

childe laughs with his full chest, amused at your quip.

“ahaha! yes, that much is true. if it hadn’t been for y/n’s medical prowess, i’d still be ways in recovery from the injuries i sustained back at the golden house. and they wouldn’t be a very good medic if they just let me slow down my own healing process, now, would they?”

you two share a knowing look and you give him an approving nod- and as everyone follows suit to look over to you, you fold your arms and pose out proudly, fully drinking up the praise towards your skill.

“anyway, i’m no signora. i don’t use lethal force against recruits, come on now…”

teucer scratches his chin in confusion. “the foul legacy transformation? does it make you stronger than mr. cyclops?”

“ahah… you could say that.” paimon laughs awkwardly.

“i wanna learn how to fight too! i wanna be cool like you!”

“now teucer, fighting isn’t about looking cool. you can only continue to get stronger if you know the reason why you’re fighting.” childe gestures to his younger brother in a lecturing manner.

“i can teach you. but think carefully first- why do you want to fight?”

“i…”

“hm?”

“..i want to protect sister tonia.”

the breath is taken from your chest for a moment. you don’t know what exactly you were expecting teucer’s answer to be but it was certainly not that. it’s so noble and honest and so… ajax, in a sense. you can’t describe what it is, but it sends you back to the times where you and ajax would have late-night deep talks inside pillow forts, whenever he slept over at your house. you’d deliberate about your lives and ambitions and you’d hear ajax express how much he aspired to become like the heroes in his father’s tales. courageous and selfless, so he could brace his fears and protect his loved ones. it’s uncertain if childe recalls the same memory as you, but he’s just as visibly pleased with teucer’s answer.

he pats the younger boy on the top of his head tenderly. “that’s a good answer teucer. when i return to snezhnaya, i will start teaching you fighting techniques.

then, you’ll have to protect tonia for me- how does that sound?”

“hehe, leave it to me!”

“you’ve had a nice long time here in liyue, haven’t you? isn’t it about time you took the boat back home?”

teucer pouts. “but, but… but you’ve been so busy, and we didn’t get any time to play together yet..”

“teucer, you know i’m very busy at work.. and hasn’t it been fun traveling all over the place with y/n and two proper travelers?”

you can tell childe feels like he hasn’t spent enough time with his brother either, but his worry about keeping up the toy seller appearance to protect teucer overcomes him. today has been nothing but close calls for him.

“w-well, how ‘bout this? if you just do one little thing for me, i’ll be a good boy and go back home!”

“oh dear, who taught this little devil to bargain.. alright, what’ll it be?” childe chuckles.

“take me to visit the institute of toy research!”

what? surely he doesn’t mean the research lab… once again, childe seems to have the same thought as you and you take the opportunity to throw him an incredulous, threatening look- as if to tell him ‘this might be your most gods awful idea yet if you take him there..’, but seemingly to no avail.

“done deal. after all, you’ve come all this way for me, teucer…”

childe persuades the traveler and paimon into taking teucer back to the facility at lingju pass and they take off soon after. you decide to stay behind and hopefully steer the harbinger away from the idea and he only faces you in waiting, like he already expects you to reprimand him. you cross your arms disappointedly and sigh.

“you know what i’m about to say to you, right?”

“hm, i might have an idea or two but just-“

“childe, that’s not just some abandoned facility for tourists to frolic inside- it’s dottore’s research lab and it’s active! if the machines inside that place don’t crush us all the second we walk inside, then surely my boss will do worse to us if we put anything out of place. i mean, this whole ordeal started because i had to go regulate the lab, then we found teucer and had to take him elsewhere so nothing bad would happen, who in their right mind-“

two strong, gloved hands come up to hold either side of your face.

the touch is somehow firm enough to effectively shut you up and hold up your head as to fully face childe, but still gentle enough as to not hurt or startle you. the committer of the act stares you right in the eyes, a doting look is apparent on his own azure gaze.

“y/n. answer this simply, do you trust me?”

there’s a pause as you process the development of the literal last 3 seconds and think of an answer- though the distracting, fluttering sensation in your chest also factors in the time you take to actually speak.

“w-well, it’s- it’s not about trusting you or-“

“do. you. trust. me?”

another pause. you look into his eyes as deep as you can and search for anything that says that maybe there’s an off-chance you shouldn’t trust him, but there’s nothing. he’s shown himself more than capable of steering situations back in his control today and it doesn’t need to be spoken how serious he is about protecting his family, even a scratch on teucer’s cheek would be a last case scenario to him. you sigh.

“i trust you, ajax.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

[weirdestbooks]

Wrong Reflection Chapter 8

The Terrible Truth of the Countryhumans Family Tree (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

Link to my family tree here

“What other family do you have? I’m starting to figure out that family trees might be a bit different if you don’t have a Britain.” America, now known as Sam, asked Alfred one afternoon.

“I mean, I have Mattie, who’s my twin. He’s Canada.” Alfred explained. Sam’s eyebrows raised, and he stared at Alfred with a look of pure shock.

“You and Canada are twins?” He asked, his voice sounding very surprised.

“Yes? Are you not?” Alfred asked, worried. Sam shook his head, and Alfred felt his jaw drop. Mattie wasn’t Sam’s twin there.

“And, no offense to you, Alfred, but I’m glad my Canada and I aren’t twins,” Sam said, causing Alfred to give him an almost offended look as he struggled to process that. Sam didn’t have a twin, and he was happy about that. He was glad he and Canada weren’t as close as they could be.

“Why’s that?” Allistor asked.

“Well, if we were, it would make the fact that we’ve had five kids together more awkward than it already is,” Sam said calmly, causing a deafening silence. All of Alfred’s thoughts about how lonely Sam probably was without a twin were cut off as he tried to process that information.

“Dude, what the hell,” Alfred said, brain swirling from that information. Sam and his Canada had kids. Together.

“Why do you just drop information like that on us,” Dylan asked, his voice full of pain.

“It’s amusing to me,” Sam said, a smile tugging his lips, “Also, we aren’t biologically related at all. Different dads and mom. So…just horrifying in concept.”

“NO, that’s horrifying in general. What the hell.” Alfred said, his voice cracking. Out of all the things he had learned about the other dimension, this was by far the worst. Maybe they weren’t related (which was its own degree of horrifying), but Canada and America had fucking kids!

“Okay, to be completely honest, I’m not even sure if it’s five kids,” Sam said. Alfred felt a wave of relief go through him at that information, feeling so overwhelmingly relieved.

“Oh, thank god,”

“It might be six.” Alfred made a pained noise at that, head in his hands, wishing he could forget what he had just been told.

“What is wrong with your world?” Seamus asked. Sam shrugged.

“The family tree gets worse. Canada and I have children, which is…strange, but it gets worse. Mainly for you guys, who have a much different family tree than us,” Sam said, smiling. 

“I don’t want to know what else is on that family tree. I think I’m better not knowing.” Ciarán said. Sam chuckled slightly.

“I think that’s the right choice to make if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“I’m telling Mattie about this. If I have to know this, so does he.” Alfred said, reaching for his phone.

“Oh, that’ll end well,” Sam muttered. Ignoring his counterpart, Alfred quickly pressed his twin’s contact. 

“Alfred? Why are you calling me?” Matthew asked. Alfred put him on speaker, so Sam could hear whatever Matthew’s reaction would be.

“Mattie, you aren’t going to believe it! My counterpart has had five or six kids with your counterpart!” Alfred exclaimed.

“Uh…Al, what are you talking about?” Matthew asked confusion in his voice. Alfred froze.

“Oh my god, I never told you about my counterpart,” Alfred said, causing Sam to start laughing, “Shut up!”

“Alfred, how did Arthur find out before Matthew?” Seamus chimed in.

“You told Arthur before me?” Matthew exclaimed, his voice holding a note of hurt.  

“I didn’t mean to! I forgot! I was busy with the fact that another version of me from another dimension had shown up!” Alfred protested. Matthew sighed.

“Well, I can’t blame you for that. But how did Arthur end up finding out?” Matthew asked.

“Alfred couldn’t find a science solution, so he’s turning to whatever magic your England claims to have,” Sam said, leaning closer to Alfred’s phone.

“Is that…”

“Other me? Yeah. We’ve been calling him Sam.” Alfred said.

“Hello, Canada,” Sam said, “How are you?”

“Processing things. Where are you, Al? I’m coming to meet my twin’s counterpart.” Matthew said, sounding somewhat annoyed.

“I’m at Arthur’s place. Cause of the…magic thing,” Alfred said, forcing out the word magic. Getting help from magic was almost as bad as getting help from Arthur. It…sucked.

“I’ll be there soon. And Alfred?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to invite Francis over, too,” Matthew said. Alfred groaned. He hated it when his brother did petty things like this.

“Why? Dude, I’m already dealing with Arthur and magic. Don’t make me deal with Arthur and Francis fighting!” Alfred protested.

“Too bad! Next time, tell me when another version of you shows up!” Matthew said before hanging up. Alfred sighed just as Arthur entered the room.

“So, Sam…what happened?” Arthur asked as he caught sight of the faces of everyone else in the room.

“I called Mattie, and now he and Francis are coming to meet Sam,” Alfred explained. Arthur groaned.

“Why’d you have to do that, America?” Arthur asked.

“I didn’t do it on purpose England. I just wanted to tell Mattie something horrific Sam told us.” Alfred said defensively, crossing his arms.

“Not to cut into this lovely argument,” Sam said, sounding almost…uncomfortable, “But I’m assuming Francis is France?” 

“Yep,” Allistor answered. 

“What a lazy name.” Sam then commented. 

“Yeah, Francis should have put more thought into his human name like the rest of us did,” Arthur said. 

“Isn’t King Arthur Welsh not English? You didn’t even name yourself after an English guy; you just named yourself after the guy from the legend you stole from Wales.” Sam said, prompting Alfred to start laughing loudly. Dylan smirked. 

“Yeah, Arthur, you just stole your name from my mythology. I’m so glad you think so highly of me.” 

“Oh bugger off, King Arthur is our mythology idiot.” Dylan just stuck out his tongue, and Alfred watched Sam bite back a laugh. Alfred smiled, glad to see that his counterpart was warming up to the other countries. Sam hadn’t exactly been hostile, but he had been distant.

Or maybe that was someone else. The fact that this America had DID scared Alfred. He had looked up how someone got it, and it scared him when he found out how someone gets DID.

His childhood hadn’t been great, but how bad was Sam’s for him to have developed DID?

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] || Also on AO3

Chapter 13: July 2016

[CLICK]

[ECHOING FOOTSTEPS, ONE SET OF WHICH HAS A DECIDED LIMP ]

MARTIN

Feeling better, Tim?

TIM

Yeah, thanks. Head’s a bit clearer. Nasty headache, but, uh, I think that’ll pass. Jon, how’s the leg?

ARCHIVIST

[Strained] It’s fine.

[FOOTSTEPS STOP]

MARTIN

Jon. Do you trust me?

ARCHIVIST

Wh—

[Deep breath] Yes.

TIM

Whoa.

MARTIN

Here.

[FABRIC RUSTLES, SLIGHT GRUNTING NOISES]

MARTIN

There, I’ve got you. You don’t need to make that worse by walking on it.

ARCHIVIST

Thank you.

TIM

What happened, anyway? Fuck, you didn’t get bitten, did you?

ARCHIVIST

Only by one. And Martin got it out. I’m fine.

TIM

But what if you’re…you know. What if you missed one? Will you end up like…

ARCHIVIST

I don’t know, I—

MARTIN

We didn’t. There was just the one. I’ll look again later, but I promise, Jon, you’re not Corrupted.

[BRIEF SILENCE, SAVE THE FOOTSTEPS]

ARCHIVIST

That’s twice now.

MARTIN

Huh?

ARCHIVIST

You keep using that word. Corrupted. That’s what you said Jane Prentiss was doing to the documents, too. And now…

I-it, it means something, doesn’t it? Something important.

MARTIN

…

Yes.

Look, Jon, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you before. I did. I was going to tell you about all this after she attacked me the first time. Actually, I’d told Neens to come tell you if she didn’t hear from me. I thought Prentiss sent her an all-clear, but turned out she never got my text in the first place, so—

TIM

Sorry, Neens?

MARTIN

Melanie. King. She’s my stepsister. How do you think I was able to get hold of Hannah?

TIM

Han—wait, the nurse from Ivy Meadows? What’s that got to do with…hang on, Melanie King is your sister?

MARTIN

Stepsister. Her mum died around the same time my dad left us, and—never mind. It’s not important. But yeah, that’s why she came to make a statement in the first place. She hadn’t heard from me in a while and just…wanted an excuse to get into the Archives to see me, but without letting people know we knew each other. Making a statement seemed as good a reason as any.

TIM

Why was that such a big deal? That people not know she knows you, I mean? If I were related to Melanie King, I’d be bragging about it to everyone that came through.

MARTIN

It’s kind of a safety thing. We’ve had issues in the past with…people…finding out we know each other and using that against us. Not letting some of the more dangerous people out there know you’ve got someone who can be used as leverage keeps them safe. I guess we’re just so used to protecting one another that it’s second nature at this point.

Especially after Gerry.

ARCHIVIST

I suppose I owe her an apology. It was true, wasn’t it? Her statement. I-it wouldn’t go on the laptop.

MARTIN

Yeah, a lot of…those things are weirdly resistant to a lot of technology. It’s probably why the video file was so…

ARCHIVIST

Corrupted? Distorted?

MARTIN

Messed up. That wasn’t…I don’t think it was either of those things.

TIM

And we’re back to “Corrupted means something important”. Distorted does too?

MARTIN

I…sort of? It’s not as big as the Corruption, but…

Okay, look. It’s a lot to explain and I’m…I dunno. Do you want to stop and have me tell you about it now?

TIM

In this mess?

ARCHIVIST

No, I—you can explain it when we get out of here. When we’re safe. Just answer me one question.

MARTIN

Sure.

ARCHIVIST

Why didn’t you tell me before?

You—you said you wanted to, that you’d told…Ms. King to tell me and she didn’t, but…you didn’t, either. Why not?

MARTIN

When I first got back? You believed me. About what had happened with Prentiss, I mean. And you were anxious enough, I didn’t…it didn’t seem like the time to lay out exactly what we’re involved in. I figured when things settled down a bit, I’d tell you.

ARCHIVIST

And yet, you didn’t.

MARTIN

…No.

ARCHIVIST

Why not?

MARTIN

Elias. He called me up to his office for a “chat” the day Melanie came to make her statement.

ARCHIVIST

I—I remember. You, uh, you didn’t talk to anyone for the rest of the afternoon.

What did he—wait, does he know all this?

MARTIN

[Bitterly] Of course he does. You can’t run a place like the Magnus Institute and not be aware of Them, or what’s actually going on with the Leitners, or any of that. He knows, all right. And he knew when he hired me that I knew. He sure as hell knew before he sent me down to the Archives.

But he didn’t want you to know. I don’t know what his game is, I don’t know why it’s so important to him that you stay ignorant, but it is. I’m pretty sure he went out of his way to make sure you wouldn’t trust me, o-or believe me if I said anything, which kept me from saying anything at first. And then I got trapped, and we started…getting along better, and I was finally at the point where I was going to tell you everything. And then he talked to me.

ARCHIVIST

What did he say?

MARTIN

…

[Softly] He threatened to kill you if I told you.

ARCHIVIST/TIM

What?!

MARTIN

You wanted to know why I had a second tape recorder? That’s why. I didn’t—it was just him and me in his office and I don’t have any proof, so I thought…i-if I keep one with me, if anything like this ever happens again, I can record it and I can…I don’t know. It made sense in my head.

TIM

But to kill…do you think he really would?

MARTIN

Without a moment’s hesitation. It wouldn’t be the first time, either.

TIM

Jesus fucking Christ.

ARCHIVIST

[Incredibly shaken] All right, let’s—let’s discuss this later. Above ground, maybe. Where there’s light. And when we’re not…when we’re away from the worms.

Is there someplace safe we can discuss this? Is here safe?

MARTIN

I think so. It’s more of a strain for me to See down here, and I am down here, so I think if Elias has a way of spying on us, it doesn’t work well down here.

TIM

It’s a strain for all of us to see down here. There aren’t any lights.

MARTIN

That’s…not exactly what I meant.

ARCHIVIST

We’ll add that to the list. I promised only one more question for now.

Let’s just get out of here.

TIM

Lead on, Macduff.

ARCHIVIST

It’s “Lay on, Macduff,” actually. And that doesn’t—

MARTIN/TIM

Shut up, Jon.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[FIRE ALARM BLARING IN THE BACKGROUND, SOUND OF WORMS SQUIRMING]

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Ugh—shit! Watch your step!

SASHA

I can see them, thank you.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Great! Glad to hear it. Can you see where we’re supposed to go?

SASHA

It’s not like there’s a map. I don’t spend a lot of time in the maintenance areas of the Institute, but the boiler room should be—

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Who’s there?

SASHA

Elias!

ELIAS

Sasha. What are you still doing in here? You need to get out.

SASHA

The fire suppressant system—is it active? Did you find the switch?

ELIAS

There’s no point, I’m afraid.

SASHA

What? What do you mean?

ELIAS

[Almost pityingly] You can see how fast these worms are spreading. If they are truly as dangerous as Jon and Martin have believed them to be—and I regret to say I no longer have reason to doubt them—then they would not have come up here if there was any reason for them to still be in the basement.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

[Softly, somewhat panicked] No, no, no…

ELIAS

I’ve been trying to get to the boiler room since we were separated, but at this point, that is not the optimal course of action. We need professional help.

The fire brigade will have specialized equipment, and as soon as I get outside, I can call the ECDC as well, but for now, you need to complete the evacuation so they don’t need to worry about you when they get here. I cannot condone wasting lives trying to save the dead.

SASHA

What?! No! You don’t know they’re dead—

ELIAS

Sasha, if by some miracle they are still alive, how do you think they will react if they get rescued only to learn that you died in the attempt? Would you really be so cruel as to force them to live knowing you died painfully and unnecessarily—because of them?

SASHA

[Angrily] Don’t. Don’t you dare.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Get out of the way, old man.

ELIAS

I’m sorry, who are you? This is a private—

[SOUND OF FIST STRIKING FLESH. ELIAS YELLS IN AGONY]

SASHA

Come on!

[RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, ECHOING SLIGHTLY]

SASHA

I can’t believe you just hit him.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

I can apologize later if your job is on the line.

SASHA

Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to do that for years. Never thought anyone would ever actually do it.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Yeah, well, he was trying to stop us getting down here, and I don’t believe for a minute it was out of concern for your safety.

Boiler room, you said?

SASHA

Yes. Here it is.

[DOOR OPENS. PIPES HISS IN THE BACKGROUND. THE FIRE ALARM IS A LITTLE FAINTER HERE]

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Shit, that’s a lot.

SASHA

There! There’s the override panel. We just need to find the right one…

Of course they aren’t labeled. Of course not. That ought to be il—ouch!

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

You okay?

SASHA

It bit me! Jesus, I didn’t think you could feel a spider bite…

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Where?

SASHA

Here.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

No, I mean, where’s the spider?

SASHA

Right there.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Ah, there you are, you little bastard.

[CRUNCH OF FOOTSTEPS, RATTLE OF PIPE, GRUNT OF EFFORT]

[Low growl dripping with contempt] Mother, may I?

[THUNK OF A LEVER BEING THROWN]

[LOW HISSING NOISE]

[CLICK]

[cosmicdreamt]

Excerpt from Chapter 1: New Moon - The Fool

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11

Therapy rooms are weird. It’s like entering a portal to some unknown space where there’s an attempt at a sense of familiarity and comfort but you still know. You know it’s a room of business and profession and picking at your brain. What you’re there for and what the room tries to be just don’t match up.

It’s a strange feeling for her no matter how many times she’s been there. Even if she can sit on that couch with one of her legs tucked under her and her torso draped over one of the arms as she awaits her therapist to arrive at their session - being too hyper aware of the room gets her mind going. As her hand reaches up for her to rest her face against it her pinky finger starts tapping at her cheek. Sure, they can make you wait all the time in the world but God forbid you make them do the same.

The door finally opens and the man walks through, an action that has her finding herself sitting up straight once he places the folders on his desk and sits across from her in the other chair. 

“Good morning! Sorry for the wait. Thank you for coming today, Neff. How’ve things been for you lately?”

The dissociating feeling from earlier dissipates now that she has other things to focus on. How have things been lately? A lot better than they were that’s for sure, thanks to him of course. She was lucky to have found a therapist that works well with her after ones before didn’t quite work out. She’s been seeing him since right before she started college and now she was twenty-three. 

His name being Dr. Kruger is one for the books, though.

“Uh….well it’s been alright. A normal amount of stress, no mental spirals or breakdowns, usual depressive episodes but the meds have been helping with those. I’ve been able to keep up with work - I’m still at the cafe, working full time now -  and my art business has been doing well. I feel like I’ve been able to function well enough in society lately. Things have been fairly steady and consistent.”

She gives a slow nod and shrug of her shoulders as if to say ‘yeah, that’s about it’. He nods in response, taking a few notes down before continuing.

“That’s good to hear then. And what, to you, is a ‘normal amount of stress’?”

To that her eyes glance up and to the side, thinking for a moment before pursing her lips.

“Work stress, mostly. Making sure I’m doing all my tasks and doing them right. Making sure customers are satisfied. Dealing with the ones that come in and are unreasonable. My bosses say I’m doing fine and I know they mean it, but you know how my brain works by now. I’m always double and triple checking and just still have that lingering worry. Outside of work it’s just making notes of payments I need to make, making sure I have enough groceries, making sure I’m cleaning on time, giving myself time to relax so I’m not burning myself out. Things like that.”

“Not trying to take on more than necessary just because you think others have it worse?”

“I think you’d beat my ass if I did that. So no. Not this time.”

She can see him attempt to stifle a snort, the corner of his lips betraying him by curling just a bit before making more notes. He tries his best to remain professional but his mistake was encouraging her to be as raw and real with her feelings as possible. He wasn’t immune to her dry humor. 

“Hopefully not any time, either.”

“Can’t make any promises except I’ll try.”

[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#8)

On my way to the stairs so I can check out that file cabinet, I stop short. Not because of the, uh, creative swaths of paint marbling the Main Hall mural, but because of the voices just a bit farther ahead. The student store, or maybe the Nurse’s Office.

Is someone hurt?

Well. More than they were already.

I creep closer.

“...as tight as I can, but that’s not gonna, like, fix anything. ‘s gonna get worse the more you keep pushing it, dude.”

“I’m aware. At any rate, thank you for the assistance! I do appreciate it.”

“Yeah...”

Not much doubt about who's talking, but I still startle when I turn the corner. Monochap is poised just outside the Nurse’s Office, one of his ear-ish things this close to the door.

“Wh...”

Noticing me, he scuttles back.

“O-oh...! Kakumi! Can I help you...?”

“You...”

“Were you eavesdropping on them?”

“E-eh?! Of course not! Th-that would be an invasion of privacy...!”

“...........”

From the guy who’s always watching us anyway. Okay. Are the cameras broken or something...?

Probably too much to hope for. He just might not have anything better to do if nobody’s getting murdered.

Ignoring him, then, it seems like there are a good few questions I could ask around here. 

Not sure I liked what I was hearing.

FREE TIME EVENTS PT. 2

[Aidan Doppler] [Kanagi Yuukei]

[BACK] [NEXT]

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-A-Long, Tower of Dawn, day 2

Ch 6

“to completion”

Gosh this hurts my heart. So much of sex is focused on a man’s orgasm, anyways. Especially for a young man, like Chaol. He probably feels so inadequate, and I feel like that was the worst come-on imaginable. I just love her for offering, for being willing to love him and treat him like she always has. Chaol needs someone like her. But this whole “completion” thing - I feel for him. I think the most important thing right now is just making sure they both enjoy themselves. Don’t put so much pressure on the act of an orgasm, male or female, I can’t think of a worse way to make a sexual encounter feel like an obligation instead of just letting it be as fun and meaningful as any other part of a relationship.

I also get the vibe this prince is kinda flirtatious with Nesryn. We love a flirtatious prince!

But uh, I’m growing to like Nesryn a lot. And I don’t want to see her break Chaol’s heart. I mean, she can do what she wants, she can flirt with a prince and go for a breathtaking ride on a ruk through the skies of Antica - she should be able to do that, she should be able to enjoy herself, and flirt, and fall in love - and I want her to. I want to see her live her best life, believe me, I do. But i’m a little bit obsessed on Chaol, lol, and I need to see him be treated with kindness and love.

Ch 7

Ah political intrigue, and peacocks and posturing.

I’m not sure how to feel about Chaol being obsessive over Nesryn, lol. I know I just stood up for him in the last chapter but he was being kind of possessive and mean in this one. She’s Captian of the Guard, and she’s strong and capable, and this is her family and her home. Probably their dynamic needs to change a little bit. Mutual respect, yeah.

I’m glad her family is okay.

I’m glad she’s not in eminent danger.

Ch 8

There are… too many new characters lmao I’m having such a hard time keeping them straight.

One prince wants to be with Yrene and one prince was flirting with Nesryn. One prince was posturing politically to Chaol. One princess is a lesbian and she’s friends with Yrene and likes to go out drinking. My ability to focus is so strained right now for this.

"There are choices in my past," he said tightly,

"that I have come to regret. But I can only move on - and attempt to fix them. Fight to make sure they do not occur again."

That’s right baby! Good for you Chaol! You still fight for a better world, and for a better you! Never forget that you are a hero - you are my hero!

This chapter was so touching, ugh. Yrene is gonna be a hell of a healer someday, but she does need to work on herself. I think agreeing to work with Chaol is going to end up benefiting both of them.

Ch 9

“Indeed, some small part of him hoped Yrene would stay away, if only to avoid what she so heavily implied they'd also be doing: talking.

Discussing things. Himself.”

This is the book where Chaol gets therapy

I love this book, lol

The little dinner scene is good and helps me kinda get more familiar with all these characters.

I like Hasar the most, surprise surprise, Maddy latching onto the only sapphic character

Ch 10

“She knew that face, gaunt as it was. Knew the golden-brown hair, nearly the twin to her own. The healer from the Womb, the very one she'd comforted only hours earlier -“

WTF

Who’s sucking out souls in the library???? What entity - is it a valg - this is BS, we’re all over here without firepower and magic (except healing magic) HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT SOUL SUCKING DEMONIC FORCES

I’m very upset about this

[crystalelemental]

Engage, day 4.  Not as much to update, but you know.

I want to put this out there: I am an idiot who should not be allowed to do things. I like clearing everything that pops up, but doing the side battles absolutely over-leveled me for future chapters.  I beat the shit out of Hortensia, it was not a challenge.  Chloe could've soloed that map if she wanted.  She almost did.  I had to actively back her out of just annihilating Hortensia like it was nothing.  The side maps are...honestly the biggest challenges, though admittedly the one with the fog of war shit was the worst.  There were a lot of enemies, and I had a metric ton of issues with that map.  It absolutely broke me.  I used the Time Crystal.  I don't even care.  I hate Fog of War, man.

But I'm also an idiot because I kept using my mains for it, instead of the backup units like Boucheron and Clanne, and now they're way behind and I don't know if they can reasonably catch up.  I need to try.  But I feel dumb for letting it reach this point.  Ugh.  Once everyone starts hitting level 20, that'll be a good time to just leave them there, and work on the backup units.  I like getting like...all the supports in the first runthrough.  I like to know what everyone's like.

But as a preliminary assessment, it's already become difficult to choose a team. I'm on Chapter 8.  Chloe is MVP of this army, she is literally untouchable.  Solid defenses, fantastic speed, solid offensive presence, Sigurd ring for complete map control and Canter, just an absolute wrecking ball of a unit.  Celine is second best, but I'm ready for a slight drop-off.  Celine has been carried, in part, by Celica's ring.  Warp Ragnarok is obscene.  But, as I'm learning, Celine is also the only reasonable option for it.  I have it now on Cittrine, who is...super physically frail, so she gets annihilated really easily when she warps, and her speed is atrocious when Thunder is equipped, so she...really needs to be careful or she just dies.  Celine has none of these issues. I think she hit 10 defense, and is almost as fast as Chloe.  Celine just wins.  Third best is Framme, though she's gunning for second.   She's gotten so many strong levels that the only other unit who can beat her in Arena battles is Chloe.  She's bulky, decently strong, absolutely insane with Micaiah's Shine active, and just a delight overall.  These three are the backbone of the team.

"What about Alear?"  Yeah, not gonna lie, Alear's been fairly strength screwed. Not badly enough that she can't manage, but I think it's worth noting that 11 strength at level 13 isn't exactly great.  I also wanted to use Etie a bit, but no one has had worse level luck than her.  It's bad, guys.  It's real bad.  Barring the Marth situation, I think Lapis is just outright better than Alear.  Less bulky, but just as strong and fast with more room to grow.  Alcryst has also taken over as main archer.  He's, uh...he's really good, actually.  The other big name right now is Anna.  I adore that she's an axe fighter, and I kinda love kid Anna being adorable and also a goon.  Early access to Hammer and Poleaxe has also made her a really, really good generalist.  I just wish she wasn't so...the way she is. Her strength is just slightly too low to one-shot most cavs, her speed isn't fantastic, these weapons come with lower accuracy so she sometimes misses at critical moments, and her luck is really low so she gets crit, which is usually death.  It's a lot of problems to have.  I don't think this girl would survive Hard mode.

While I do like Alfred, he's just so far behind Chloe, and is more a tank than a well-rounded unit.  And I do mean in the physical sense.  He's Horse Louis.  Res is bad, he hasn't gotten the best speed growth, but he is bulky.  Which is good, he'll make a nice backup option.  And eventually Chloe will cap Sigurd's ring at rank 10, and it'll be his time to shine.

As for units I don't like...Boucheron isn't doing much.  Clanne was incredible right up until Celine arrived and took everything from him.  I don't really like Jean, and his growths have been sad for a high-growth unit.  I'm not really keen on Jagen characters, so Vander isn't doing much either.  I feel like I'm forgetting someone, so if I did, they're in this bucket too.

By tactics...I kinda like these new bigger weapon options.  They can smack a unit back one space and potentially into hazards, but they result in the foe attacking first, even on your turn.  It's a really cool idea, I just don't know how much it's going to matter.  I've also officially started using the guard effect on Framme and Jean.  Framme's new-found bulk means she's blocking a metric ton of damage for the team, and it's frankly hilarious.  I talked about that whole fog of war issue?  Yeah, this was a solution.  Block all damage from everything except one ally.   Completely stall out the enemy's movements and set them up for a KO next turn.  It's great.

The rings are...interesting.  I'm going to be honest, I think they're a ton of fun, but also hysterically overkill.  Sigurd grants +5 range.  +5!   Chloe, a flier who cannot be stopped by terrain, covers a map in like two turns.  And then gets Canter for another 2 move after combat.  It's nuts.  Celica's Warp Ragnarok has been a clean one-shot against any foe.  It's devastating in the extreme.  And Micaiah's Great Sacrifice is a beautiful effect that I've seen give Framme a full level, as late as level 14.  Like, that skill is free EXP, man.  If someone's behind, just slap Micaiah on them, turn them into a Staff-based utility bot, and let them farm those levels.  It's so busted.  The only one who doesn't initially seem as busted is Marth, but I assure you, he is.  The evade stacking is unreal, any fast unit effectively becomes untouchable.  Add in a skill that lets you recover to 20% when under 20% HP after battle, and all I'm waiting for is something that gives me survival at 1HP from a single lethal blow, and you're effectively immortal.  It's just so extreme.

But I also think that, for challenge maps anyway, that extreme response is necessary?  All foes move instantly, and you start out surrounded on nearly every challenge map.  This results in needing some really extreme solutions. Warp Ragnarok, while absurd, also becomes necessary sometimes to snipe out an opponent that could be a problem.  Micaiah's Sacrifice becomes a necessary hard reset after a rough round of combat.  Marth's evasion is necessary just to stay alive.  The only one out is Sigurd, who...might be my favorite, because his utility is just perfect for getting where you need to go.   Like, you know those maps where it's like "Oh no!  That enemy thief is so close to that chest, they're going to steal that thing!"  Sigurd ignores the danger and gets you right to them. Even his big attack is more about movement than damage.  I love it.  I love Sigurd's ring so much.

The story's reasonably simple, and if my character talk being focused on combat rather than characterization wasn't much of an indication, they're all pretty straight-forward and simple.  I like it, though.  It's fun in a simple way.  They just have to not do anything too stupid with the ending and I think we'll have a decent experience.

On the whole, I'd say I'm enjoying myself a lot.  This...might even be the rare Fire Emblem game I attempt to clear on Hard once I'm through the game once. My next mission is getting Lyn's ring, so I'm pretty excited about that.  And I met Goldmary!  Who...yeah.  I like her a lot.  Looking forward to that recruitment.

[papijean]

behind the lens [8 - yes]

chapter eight 

warnings: smut, 18+ content, nsfw, oral (f. rec), face sitting

word count: 2.4k 

a/n: if you’re reading this before you’ve read chapter eight, go back

"Do you want to come in?"

Those words could have gotten you in a lot of trouble. Your whole tangent about this whole mess being made was because you were daring enough to step foot into his room in the first place. Were you really willing to make it all worse by doing it again? Or would this miraculously make everything right again.

Eren had a small smile on his face, though it was impossible to tell if it was forced or not. He held one hand on the door handle, the other leaving room for you to enter the darkroom. A lamp on his desk was on, notebooks scattered about and the screen to his TV paused on a video game. His room was messier than last time, but still relatively clean.

You had school work to do. Armin was awake and working just a wall away and you already tortured the poor boy once. Every reason you had led you to say no, you had no good reason to stay. Nothing good was going to come out of you staying in their apartment any longer.

"Yeah."

The door was closed behind you, this time the lock clicking loud and clear. You stared at his bed, remembering well and clear what happened the last time you were there. You could practically hear your shameless moans, the sound of his skin slapping against yours as he fucked your senseless.

Eren pressed his hand into your lower back, looking down at you with darkened eyes. Last chance to leave. No, this would be a time where you'd keep a secret between each other and never let anyone know. Eren wasn't willing to start more drama, but he'd always be able to have an ace up his sleeve if he needed.

Your lips were on his in an instant. Rushed, eager kisses that were nothing like Porco's or Jean's. Eren was the kind of needy where he'd leave your lips bruises and swollen because of his desire. He'd nip pull at your lips, thinking about how much better they'd look with his cock between them instead.

He jerked as your cold hands went under his sweater. So warm and inviting compared to your icy skin. His grip on your waist tightened as you giggled from his sudden chill. Eren was never one to be bothered by such small touches like this, he was always the one to deliver them instead.

His hands landed on the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up only to drop you on his bed. In a smooth motion, he pulled his hoodie off, sitting above you to show off his physique. The loose bun he wore completely fell out.

"I like your hair down," you commented. Thick brown locks that felt so nice between your fingers and fell so beautifully in his face. Eren chuckled at your sudden compliment, his hair was never one of his priorities when trying to look good. "Don't laugh, I'm trying to be nice! You look... older."

"Oh, so you're into older men?" He cocked his eyebrow. You tried to playfully slap his chest at his joke, though he caught your wrist with ease. You felt at ease with him this time. Your trust for him ran deeper than before, even though he gave you plenty of reasons not to. "I was thinking about cutting it all off but if you like it I guess I'll have to keep it."

"Does it matter? You'll look good with both," Your hands dragged up his thighs, burning through the thick material of his sweatpants as you grew closer to his hardening cock. He didn't allow his full weight to fall onto you as he practically sat on your lap, most of it going to his knees. Eren shrugged - you were right. "Cocky bastard."

"And?" Eren hovered over you. He kissed down your neck while waiting for you to counter him again. One hand kept him up, the other went straight towards your pants. He toyed at the hem only for a moment until slipping in completely. He grinned as you inhaled sharply from his fingers grazing over your underwear. "Come one now, I'm waiting."

"Always think you can get everything you want because you look good," you tried to keep your voice steady but his fingertips threatened to go past the edge of your underwear and it had you needy. Eren's lips were on yours again, this time taking it slow. He swallowed your moan as he dipped beneath the cotton material and straight to your nerves.

His teeth clamped onto your bottom lip, biting until you whined in dull pain. He pulled away with a tug, grinning to see your pretty lips puffed up from him. You dragged your already sore lip between your own teeth as he circled your clit in the most teasing way, holding back any signs of a moan. Falling apart for him after barely a touch, he loved it.

Fuck Porco. Fuck Jean. I'm the only one who can get you crumbling in mere moments.

His fingers looped onto the hem of your pants, pulling the material down in a split second. Eren could never get enough of his hands on your skin. Palms against your thighs, eyes glued to your glistening folds. He was addicted to you alright - a dangerous game he wasn't sure he should play. It was too late to change his mind now.

"I think you made me a promise last time."

Your nose scrunched in confusion while trying to think about what he meant. It wasn't until his tongue glided over his bottom lip did you remember. Next time. Yeah well, that next time arrived and Eren was hungry.

He laid flat on his bed, arms tucked behind his head as he waited for you to move to him. That stupid cocky smirk of his was back again. His teal eyes avoided you, knowing this was entirely your move, not his. He awaited you to take the lead even if it meant impatiently craving your taste again.

"Don't tell me you forgot already?"

"No," you shook your head. Eren's tongue dragged over his lips, desperate to have another taste of you and actually be able to take his time to enjoy it. The small action had your thighs pressed together. That tongue. I know damn well what that tongue can do. "I don't want to hurt you."

Eren rolled his eyes. His wounds were practically healed, you had nothing to worry about. Besides, he could handle a little bit of pain to make you squeal for him.

Your leg swung over him, wet core drowning his torso. "Na-uh," he shook his head. His tongue swiped over his lips again, sizing you up like prey. It was a little nerve-wracking sitting above him like this. Eren was the first-ever person to offer for you his face as your throne. By how he was acting, this certainly wasn't his first time. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't be shy."

Eren grabbed your ass, pulling you closer towards his face until you were hovering over him completely. He ushered you down until your core was directly on his lips. Eren wasted no time, diving his tongue between your folds and moaning at your sweet taste. He never remembered you being this good.

He got consumed with your taste, ravishing your cunt like fine dining. Eren no longer cared about how you felt he just wanted every last drop of you. His tongue rippled through your velvet folds, moaning at your taste. The vibrations shot through your core causing your thighs to tighten around him.

"Fuck!" You cried out. God, you knew Eren was good but this was an entirely different level of pleasure. His warm tongue protruded at your hole causing an endless stream of pleasure. Strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you from squirming and holding you down so it was impossible to be free of his pleasure. "S'good, Eren. Oh, god."

The tip of his nose continuously brushed against your clit as he bobbed along to your jutting hips. He was forced to tighten his hold on you to prevent you from moving. You could barely contain yourself, the softness of his tongue felt godsend against you. If it weren't for your need to stay quiet, you'd be practically screaming out his name already.

He hummed against you again, this time longer than the previous time. The feeling caused your thighs to shake and your breath to stop. Eren glanced up at you, adoring how your head was jutted back because of him. Beautiful. As always.

You were holding back your sounds. Whether it was to be polite to Armin or because you didn't want him to know you stuck around, he didn't know. It didn't matter your reason, he was still going to try his damn best to get your incredible sounds. He couldn't just accept these little whimpers and whines, not when he knew how you sounded.

"More, please, more," you whined. Eren might have been addicted to your taste, but the thought of not having his tongue against your heart was unbearable. You wanted this feeling all the time. Every fucking day you wanted to feel high like this. "Eren, please." Fuck he loved your begs.

Eren pushed you down an inch or so. You thought he wanted a break for a second and got ready to pull yourself off of him. His arms forced you to remain where you were - getting off of him wasn't an option until you were creaming on his mouth.

A gasp sounded through his room as his lips wrapped around your clit. The pressure he created was different than anything before, you could barely even comprehend the feeling it gave. Eren sucked against the sensitive nub. Your hand shot out to his headboard to ground yourself from the pleasure.

"Eren, fucking hell," You groaned. No matter what you held onto it never seemed enough to keep yourself stable. His pleasure towards you continuously left you shaky. "S'good. Fuck."

The tip of his tongue flicked against you and you couldn't control the pathetic moan. You rushed to cover your mouth with your hand but it was too late. Eren grinned against you, deciding to do the motion again and again until those manicured nails of yours dug into his scalp and tugged at the roots of his hair.

You found yourself grinding into his tongue, desperate for more attention. The delicate posture you once obtained was long gone. If Eren was committed to this, you were going to enjoy every second of it. He was moaning against your pussy, seemingly enjoying this just as much - if not more - than you were.

His large hands grabbed your hips, urging you to move against him. Hesitantly, you did so, riding his mouth just as you would his cock. The sensation drove up your spine and if it wasn't for the way you were biting against your own arm you'd be yelling out his name. The lewd smacking of his tongue on your wetness was so intense you couldn't hear anything but it.

"Wanna cum on your tongue," you whined out in desperation. You didn't want this feeling to end, not ever. "Eren! I can- can't, need to, need to cum so bad please!"

Your words were muffled to him. The fat of your thighs was so tightly squeezing either side of his face to prevent him from hearing you properly. He knew what you wanted, whether he could hear you or not. The look on your face said it all, you were desperate for him. Just as you were last time, just as you would always be.

His teeth grazed your overly sensitive clit, leaving your whole body to jolt with pleasure. He groaned in pain as you tugged his hair harder than before. Close, so close. That's it, pretty girl. Want you to cum on my tongue. You can do it, wanna hear those pretty fucking moans again.

Fuck, were they beautiful. Eren might not have been able to hear them to their full potential but it was enough to have his hips buck into the air. He felt you grind onto him, hips rocking as your rode out the high he gave you. Endless moans of his names, pleas of feeling too good. He did this, him alone.

The fingers in his hair loosened, headboard no longer being gripped. Your chest heaved with an attempt to get some air back into your lungs. As your vision came back to normal, no longer the messy blur of pleasure, you lifted yourself off his tongue that was lazily sliding through your folds.

Eren kept you on his lap, aching cock pressing through his pants and onto your ass. His face was drenched with your juices and his own saliva. He grabbed the shirt he tossed off early to wipe away the far places on his face he couldn't reach with his tongue.

"Fucking delicious," Eren cheekily grinned. His hair was an utter mess because of you, not that he cared in the slightest. He ate your pussy like it pleasured him more than you. There was no denying this man was the real deal. "Worth the wait."

You felt a tremor in your thighs. Eren noticed it as well. His rough fingers dragged over your shaking thighs, watching them shiver even more under his touch. All because of me, no one else. Me. Want you shivering under me all the time. Want your whole body to fucking shake because you don't know how to control the pleasure.

"Want me to-"

"No," Eren cut you off, he knew what you were going to ask. Want me to suck you off? Make it so we're even? No. Eren didn't want that. He wanted this little piece of blackmail so he could trade it in when he was truly desperate. No matter how much his cock was aching at the moment, he was willing to save your lips for another day.

"No?" You cocked an eyebrow. Your hips ground down into his hard member, grinning as he groaned at the friction and the way he moaned so shamelessly because of it. He couldn't deny the raging boner he had from eating you out, but his intention wasn't to fuck you senseless. He just wanted to make you feel good in an attempt to make up for his words. "I came in here for a reason, Eren. I wouldn't have if I didn't want to."

"Don't worry sweetheart. I just want you to remember I'm the one who can get you shaking in pleasure."

[quokkacore]

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee​ for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday. 

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00. 

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak. 

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM] 

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY 

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM] 

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear 

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late 

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid. 

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me. 

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range. 

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life. 

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly. 

[7:57 AM] 

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took. 

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School. 

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.” 

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation. 

  A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.” 

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement. 

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.” 

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon. 

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking. 

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored. 

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him. 

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you. 

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.” 

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front. 

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since. 

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her. 

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today. 

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

 “I don’t like her, Yeeun.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark,  Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more��� weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken. 

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.” 

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club. 

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you. 

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice. 

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?” 

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled. 

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately. 

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?” 

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’. 

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.” 

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy. 

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time. 

 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord. 

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends. 

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?" 

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!” 

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me 

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving 

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months. 

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung. 

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung. 

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history. 

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since. 

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything. 

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration. 

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to. 

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel. 

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face. 

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also. 

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college. 

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing. 

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!” 

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss. 

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either. 

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only. 

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters. 

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked. 

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—” 

 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit. 

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here." 

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things. 

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious. 

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Perfect.” 

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things. 

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed. 

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?” 

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!” 

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.” 

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?” 

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.” 

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out. 

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry." 

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me." 

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change." 

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult.  You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?" 

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year." 

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal." 

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist. 

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether. 

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly. 

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed. 

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

 “Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.” 

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them. 

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was. 

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before. 

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped. 

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him. 

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered. 

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came. 

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground. 

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!” 

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault. 

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station. 

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could. 

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up. 

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs​ @crescentjen​

[soft-angelic-kiss]

We’re all a little bit crazy (1)

We’re all a little bit crazy 

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Therapist! Midoryia x Paitent! reader x Patient! bakugou x patient! todoroki  x patient! shinsou

Chapt 1 TW: mentions of abuse, suicide and self harm (just mentions no actual veiws)

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A/N: Hiii! I’ve been working on this for a while and I really hope you guys enjoy it! any feedback is appreciated, I tried to do as much reaserch as I could for this so if anything is worded wrong please be kind and let me know! Much love! Anyways,, enjoy! 

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UA was a well-known mental asylum in japan. It was known as a last resort for the lost souls that had no hope in ever making back into society. It was where they kept the people who had nowhere to go because nobody else could handle them.

UA held some of the most dangerous and scary patients. The lady who ran the place, well known as Momo Yayorozou, had a horrible reputation for being mean and running the place horribly. Izuku noticed that as soon as he walked into the giant building.

The walls were breaking and rotting. The floors were creaky and groaned under Izukus weight. The whole first floor smelled like mush and it made his stomach lurch. He kept his head down as he slowly made his way to the front desk.

“H hi, I I’m-“Izuku was cut off as the bright pink cheeked girl at the front desk started speaking.

“Oh! You must be Izuku Midoryia, right? The new therapist for the fifth floor?” she gave a soft smile grabbing a medium sized stack of papers. Seemingly files.

Izuku was taken aback. Why was she so cheery and bright? She worked at an asylum, shouldn’t she be angry? Grumpy? He didn’t dwell on it for too long seeing as he was nervous for his first day and had other things to worry about. He made a vow in the car that he would make his patients feel loved and safe.

“U-uh yes ma’am that’s me.” He stutters

“Alright I’m Ochako Uraraka! If you’ll follow me I can get us to the fifth floor yeah?” She walked out from behind the desk and held out the stack of papers.

Izuku nodded and took the files from her hands “Please. That’d be great, thank you.” Izuku looked down and flipped the first page of the folder and sure enough sitting on top was a picture of a man with half red and half white hair, a plain sad look on his face and a list of information.

F I L E  1 (Patient Name) Shoto Todoroki

(Date admitted) 21-8-14

(Patient age) 23

(Patient disorder) crippling anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, trust issues, insomnia, hallucinations and irritability

(History/cause) Father (Enji?) was emotionally, physically and verbally abusive. Sent Todoroki’s mother to a physiatrist ward a few years before he was due to her unstable mind (also caused by enji?) she had a mental breakdown and poured boiling water on his face resulting in a scar over his right eye. His older brother (Touya?) had committed suicide only a month before he was admitted to the asylum. His older sister (Fyumi?) tried to take care of him but the more she tried the worse his father’s beatings got. His older brother (Natsuo?) has been absent since his mother was put in a ward.

(Has patient...) -attempted suicide? -attempted homicide? -attempted any act of self-harm? -attempted violence on past employees? -attempted escape?

(Other) Patient is extremely easy to manipulate and believes that his brother is still alive and thinks he stays in the room with him. Will throw a tantrum if you say otherwise and don’t greet his brother (Touya?) every time you come in. He narrates, asks and gives responses for his brother. If you gain his trust he’ll get attached. Don’t let him get attached, he will do ANYTHING to keep you with him. If he starts showing signs. RUN

(Danger level) 6/10

Izuku shuddered. He felt horrible for the poor boy. Both parents were so horrible to him. And he lost all of his siblings. He had followed Uraraka up to Todoroki’s room which was guarded by a metal door which had some severe dents made into it. It also had a hand scanner and a passcode. Uraraka smiled at Izuku's look of shock and confusion.

“Alright, You can just place your hand over the scanner. I know Mrs. Yayorozou already had you do the hand recognition evaluation. Your passcode should be the same one you used to enter the building. Here is your timer.” She pulled a small device from her pocket. “You have 20 minutes with each patient today. Normally you’d have 60 minutes with each but since you’re just introducing yourself I see no need to be there any longer. And I know you read the file. So please just be careful.”

Izuku nodded thoughtfully. He placed his hand over the scanner and input his passcode. The big heavy metal door unlocked to reveal a slightly smaller and less protected door. Izuku took a deep breath, started his timer and walked in. 

chapter 2

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A/N: again- I know this is short but it’s just a tester page,, feedback is appreciated SO are ideas and theories