#Be warned ye who enter here: It is very dark and grim and sad

[harleyification]

Hey, so...like, my fic updated, if u even care...yeah, it's the Symbiote Harley one...yeah, the one where he gets a symbiote and gets adopted by Eddie Brock...yeah, it updated - 12.5k words to be exact. Would you like to read it??

YOU WILL READ IT

[alycosworld]

Tainted

Scaramouche X Reader

WARNING: mentions of (nearly) sexual assault

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A/N: I seem to have more angst/comfort ideas for genshin but I'm not sure why...also, I'm on holiday in a foreign country! I have no work and I'll probably spend all my nights on Tumblr after exploring the city in the day, so please please please send in some requests! I'm bored and although they might take some time, they might help me get back into writing more regularly. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but if I made a mistake, feel free to tell me. This has NOT been checked for any errors (I'll get around to it at some point).

I'm not sure if Scaramouche is ooc, since he doesn't say anything that nice in the game or in any official works, but I definitely think he has the capacity for it. And I like soft Scar <3.

If at any point you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE DO NOT READ ON. I felt a little icky after writing the assault bit so do not force yourself to read any further or read at all. I do not want to make anyone reading this unhappy. Any victims of sexual assault or harassment, I hope you heal

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Keep walking. Just keep walking. Get home as fast as possible.

Avoid dark spots, avoid all people, avoid secluded areas. Just get home now.

That's what you told yourself after it happened. Archons, you didn't even know how you should feel. Ashamed? Angry? Disgusted? Upset? Confused? Afraid? The amalgamation of these emotions just made everything worse. You felt sick to your stomach. You wanted to cry and scream and vomit and disappear all at the same time.

You felt like you were covered in grime and you don't even know how you managed to get away. You should've done something, anything! But in the moment, you couldn't.

Your day had started normally. You went to the Adventurer's Guild in Inazuma, doing your commissions and taking up a few extra quests to help people out. Even though you were walking home later than normal, you didn't think much of it. Until somehow, you lost your way. In the dark, things became a little more vague and confusing, so you ended up taking a left and ending up in a dark alleyway between two dimly lit buildings.

You walked through, lost in your own thoughts, until you heard some chuckling and some incoherent remarks made by someone exiting one of the buildings out a back door and into the alleyway.

Glancing up, you saw that the person was a man - quite tall and well built with flushed cheeks: he was clearly not sober. You paid him no mind, staring at the ground as you continue to walk, determined to get home to see your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Though he wasn't one to worry, knowing that you could handle yourself, you did want to see him as soon as possible.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man asked, and you looked up at him again, tilting your head in confusion but staying silent.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" He asked, a suspicious smirk on his face.

"I'm going home." You said firmly, not wanting to give him any ideas.

"Oh? A handsome young thing like you, going home all by themselves? Let me walk you, I promise I don't bite." He continued, clearly not getting the hint.

"I'm alright, but thank you for the off--"

"Stop being such a fucking tease! Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it." He pinned you against the wall despite your attempt to politely refuse any moves he tried to make. He caught your arms above your head and harshly shoved one of his legs between yours.

"Don't like to me, hon, you know you want this." He whispered huskily. You had fought countless hilichurls, abyss mages and monsters far more intimidating and dangerous than that man that day, but you couldn't seem to move. All you could manage was a fearful 'please, don't do this'. Struggling was futile, for some reason you couldn't escape his grasp. You had fought beasts ten times this man's size but violating you like this? It made you break.

He gripped you harshly and even managed to kiss your neck a couple times, making the tears stream down your face uncontrollably, until he heard some voices. You recognised them immediately: members of the Adventurer's Guild. He must be known it too because he stopped as soon as he heard, offering you a sickening grin and scuttling away before you could react.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

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You didn't get any help from the Adventurer's Guild members who you heard, instead opting to rush home as soon as possible, trying to figure out what to do next.

The only solution in your mind was to crawl into your lover's arms and tell him what had happened. You didn't want anyone else to know - you know you could trust Scaramouche and you knew he would help you.

But he didn't.

You got home and wiped your tears before entering the house, hoping to look somewhat presentable despite having experienced such an impactful event. You dropped your belongings carelessly, not flinging at the loud sound they made as they hit the floor. You immediately made your way to the guest room Scaramouche had turned into an office of sorts, for him to work on Fatui business. The bedroom door was open and empty and he was nowhere to be found on the first floor, so that was the only other place he could've been. You were relieved to see him sitting at the desk, deep in thought with some maps and other sheets of paper laid out in front of him.

"Scar, I--"

"Not now, (Y/N), I'm busy." He said hot even bothering to look up at your frazzled and shattered state.

"I know but, please, Scar. While I was--"

"If you know that I'm busy, why enter in the first place? I'm working. Leave me alone." He said harshly. You didn't say anything, instead opting to nod silently and close the door. Since this was the first time you had experienced this pain and discomfort from being touched and defiled in such a way, you decided that maybe you should put it aside. After all, maybe it was something so jarring. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Scaramouche's nonchalance was justified. In a twisted way, you blamed yourself for overreacting and decided to just forget about the incident. If it didn't mean enough for Scaramouche to even look at you, it clearly wasn't something worth fretting over. You were just exaggerating, right?

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You tried you absolute hardest not to let the incident bother you, but you unknowingly started changing your habits to prevent what had occurred from happening to you again.

"Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it..."

You started wearing less revealing clothing, going as far as wearing gloves at some point and covering your neck with collars and scarves through the hot weather.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

Initially, you just avoided dark or secluded places, even when you were with other people, but eventually, you were too scared to leave home at all. You didn't leave the confines of your small garden and if someone passed by, you would quickly hide yourself away. When Scaramouche had unknown guests and colleagues over, you would hide in your bedroom and make him promise not to mention you or acknowledge your existence in the slightest.

You even started taking longer showers and refused to bathe with Scaramouche, confusing him since you used to enjoy it so much. But you wouldn't let him see you in such a vulnerable state now that you were contaminated. You didn't want him to know that you had been tarnished in such a vulgar way, and you spent long moments scrubbing at the parts the stranger had touched. You were worried that Scaramouche would blame you for being assaulted - because in a sick way you thought it was your fault, despite having been nothing wrong. You had twisted the story in your mind to make it seem like you were responsible for the crime committed against you.

Eventually, Childe had to visit for business purposes, but you had become good friends with the eleventh Fatui Harbinger since he was friends with-- well, he and Scaramouche had a relationship, to say the least.

"So where's (Y/N)? Normally they're all over you and making you as embarrassed at possible." Childs grinned, and Scaramouche just frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"They're in our room. They don't really want to see anyone right now." Scaramouche said. Even though you told him not to mention you anymore, since you were so hellbent on avoiding all human interaction, he thought it would be okay to tell Childe. He was your friend too, after all.

"Is something wrong? What happened?" Childe asked, concern in his eyes.

"I don't know. They've been avoiding everyone, including me. They barely talk to me and insist on sleeping downstairs." Scaramouche confessed.

"Let me talk to them."

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Childe exited your room after hearing what to had to say, and he was disturbed and sympathetic, at the very least. Scaramouche saw his wide-eyed, grim expression when he exited the room and immediately had questions.

"What?" Scaramouche asked.

"I'll come back tomorrow to continue our work." Childs said, referring to the business he originally came for.

"But we have to--"

"Scar?" Scaramouche stopped all his trains of thought and turned to the sound of your voice. It was hoarse but still as beautiful as ever. He knew you had been crying from your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"I think you have other matters to take care of." Childe winked, before giving Scaramouche an informal two-fingered salute and showing himself out.

As soon as the door closed, Scaramouche turned his attention to you, not coming too close in case you didn't want to be near him.

"Yes, Love?" He asked, more concerned than you had ever seen him.

"Can I talk to you? If you're busy, that's okay, it's not that impor--"

"I'm not busy." He shook his head, and you offered him a sad and grateful smile before sitting on the edge of the bed while he took a seat on a nearby chair.

"So, uhm, a couple of days ago I was walking home and I kind of got lost...so I tried taking this alleyway and--" You stopped yourself, meeting Scaramouche's attentive gaze before continuing.

"There was a guy. And he-- he t-touched me. I-- I didn't know what to do. I could've easily fought back but I just got scared and froze up because that's never happened to me before and he kept saying that I wanted him-- but I didn't! I swear, I didn't. I know it sounds bad since I didn't stop him but I really tried, I just couldn't. And he started k-kissing me...here," You gestured to the spots on your neck that you could still feel being violated.

"And I felt so horrible and he didn't go any further because some people were coming, so I ran home. I-I...I didn't know what to do but I felt like I should tell you because I thought you would help me, but you said you were busy so I just-- It-tried to brush it off but I just couldn't get it out of my head! And before I got away, he told me that he'd come back and finish me off and so I didn't want to go outside anymore in case I ran into him. And I started to cover up since he said I was asking for it because of what I was wearing and then I just got scared and I felt dirty. I tried so hard to forget and clean myself but it kept coming back-- I can still feel him on me! I hated it, I still hated it! You have to believe me, I wasn't trying to get him to notice me, I just..." You broke down after finishing what you had to say. You had already been crying since you told Childe, but now you were choking out sobs and your face was drenched. Scaramouche stood up from his chair and sat next to you on the bed, a safe distance away just in case you still weren't comfortable with being touched.

"I believe you. I know you're not like that." Scarsmocuhe started calmly. In all honesty, he wanted to interrupt you as soon as you said that this man approached you. His blood was boiling and he was ready to murder this man for you but kept himself in check because you didn't need senseless violence or revenge right now, you needed comfort. What hurt him the most was that you were blaming yourself because he didn't bother listening to what you had to say on what was probably the worst day of your life.

"It's not your fault you were touched like that. You are not to blame, at all. I-- I should've listened to you when you came to me - as soon as I turned you say I thought something was wrong but I didn't bother asking about it. That's entirely my fault." He admitted, which surprised you. It took Scaramouche a lot to admit his mistakes, but for you? He didn't care. You constantly put up with his sour attitude, he can definitely listen to you and admit he was wrong.

"You sure? Because I still--"

"I'm sure." He said simply.

"But why did you start avoiding me?" He asked, wanting to understand the situation entirely.

"Well, because..." You started, unsure if he would get angry if you told him. While you were contemplating, he offered you an encouraging expression. It wasn't a smile, but it was more than enough to put you at ease.

"I didn't want you to think I was tainted. Of course, you wouldn't want to be near me after that had happened." You sighed, wiping up the last of your tears.

"You really are an idiot, you know?" He said, but after seeing the clueless and almost hurt look on your face, he immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't mean to be insensitive, he just...well, he often explained positive emotions with his very wide negative vocabulary.

"No, I didn't-- uhm..." He mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say, but you didn't interrupt him and made a small gesture for him to keep going.

"What I mean to say was, I don't think that you're tainted or anything like that. And I still...want to be...near you-- eugh!" He pretended to be grossed out at his own words in true Scaramouche fashion, but he knew you knew he didn't really mean it and was beyond delighted when he saw you giggle at his facial expression.

He sighed and acted angry as he opened his arms ever so slightly. You noticed the movement and quirked an eyebrow when he hesitated.

"Is it okay if I come closer?" Scaramouche asked, unsure if you wanted to be touched after the incident.

Your heart swelled at his care and then you slowly watched as he stiffly wrapped his arms around you comfortingly. Although you had hugged and cuddled on countless occasions, he still wouldn't stop being so robotic unless you did something. It made you laugh and he pulled away slightly to glare at you, so you decided to just pull him back in and hug back.

And when you relished in the touch of another human being, the touch of the person you love, you began to cry. The last time anyone willingly touched you was in that alleyway, and so to have someone be so gentle with you and have no bad intentions, you were overwhelmed with emotion.

Scaramouche must've felt your tears staining his clothing and skin, and quickly pulled away with poorly hidden concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, but you just continued to sob and nod.

"I love you!" You choked out. He sighed and gently patted your back.

"I...love you too." He said, before making another expression of mock disgust. He slowly moved to hold both your wrists in his hand and kiss down to your neck, pulling you into his lap with your legs straddling one of his.

You soon realised that he was covering up the placed the stranger had touched you with his own ministrations, effectively replacing the grime you felt you gained after the incident. After you came to that conclusion and Scaramouche was done, he didn't meet your eye, blushing profusely. It was justified since he didn't usually initiate any kind of affection acts, but you just cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, smiiling at him with purity and a newfound confidence in the both of you.

"Thank you, Scar."

[adcfan]

WARNED

He could clearly tell from the slightest wrinkle of irritation adoring the top left of her pale forehead that she is beyond annoyed. How could he blame her? After all it was him who lured the bird out of its comfortable nest in the middle of a tough night. From the height he could perceive the darker shades of her shadows dancing along the way she traced making him more curious to explore the limit of the demon’s braveness.

The edges of his lips pulled up to carve an honest smile as his eyes momentarily rested on the dagger resting against her waist that he once offered her in the middle of a battle, a year ago.

With a loud thud he made his presence noticeable startling her to the core in the process. His armor blazed a bright shade of jade green, bathed in the late moonlight that managed to get the taste of his attire. His eyes searched hers involuntarily, seeking to find any glimpse of game she or the titans might have planned to play on him. But all he could find was curiosity.

Curious? Is she really curious?    

“So, you decided to show up in the middle of a young, wanting night, far from your protective shell behalf of a demons’ call”. If it wasn’t for the mask he is wearing, she could see the imperceptible grim plastered over his face with ease. “And here I thought ravens aren’t creatures of the night”, his brows made a childish hunch testing her temper further more than she could actually take.

“What do you want?”, her voice remained cold as she tried her best to control all the urge to take him down on the very spot. His cape danced in unity with her robe as he approached her a little more without her noticing for a very long second. “Aren’t you forgetting a very special day, beloved?”. And that was definitely a hint of sadness that was sprinkled all over the Al Ghul’s tone.

Right, as if he could actually feel sad over anything with all the blood in his hands.

“I am not in for a game, Al Ghul. I have got a whole city to save and a good night’s sleep to resume, but here I am, in the middle of an abandoned area with a ruthless assassin who threatened to explode the best half of the city and what’s next? Seizure?”. Almost a devilish chuckle escaped his lips as if he had conquered the entire world.

“Oh for gods shake, little bird. Do you really think I will abandon the best of all nights in Nanda Parbat to blast a worthless city like Kansas?”, now he is definitely getting on her nerves. “But I must say, I had half a mind to blow the Titans bridge five minutes ago”, his all time devilish smile still painted his arrogant look. Raven barely recognized how Damian managed to corner her against the cold wall whose uneven surface pressed itself against her flawless skin dripping it with the night’s best dew.

“I am not asking you again, Ra’s. Tell me what you want with me before I banish you into a dimension of never return”.

“You hurt me, beloved. Don’t you remember the anniversary of our marriage?”

Married? With him? A year ago?

“If this is some sort of silly joke, you better stop it right now, Ra’s. It’s definitely not funny.”, her voice trembled with doubts by each passing second. She lingered over her left ring finger as if she has seen her own hands for the first time in all her life. No ring? Well that’s a relief.

He is just kidding or may be…

Or may be not

“Do I look like one who makes senseless jokes like the green monkey your tower owns”. 

Thanks to Gar, at least his pride is hurt a little.

“I didn’t say that, but if you insist on it… I may”, and she sure as hell liked hurting his weak point - his pride.

“Then how about I insisting on maintaining a decent distance between Conner and you, beloved”, for the first time in almost half an hour his words had the true taste of jealous.

“You are my wife and it is my business to keep flirty hybrids like him away from you. Well, if you don’t have to do it the easy way then I will have the pleasure of teaching him decency in my own way, beloved”. Is the night getting unnaturally warmer or…

Oh no! When did he get this closer to her.

And how the hell she didn’t notice it for this long.

If not for the pitch dark night sky, she could actually feel herself blacking out.

“If it is Conner the one you have your problems with then why the hell did you make me come here?” To reveal that she may be married to the Ra’s of League of Assassin’s a year ago? Probably, yes.

“I thought you would never ask. Let’s say I am here to get a gift”

Right, she barely knew that she got married and now he wants a gift in the middle of a night?

“I don’t have a ring”, the words spilled out even before she could realize it.

May be she lost her brain just like Beast Boy.

“I don’t think it is mandatory for a married couple have to propose during anniversaries, beloved”, his breath flowed through her entire being warming up all her dark desires that might love to make him hers and only hers even if…

Stop. Stop right there Raven.    

“I mean, I don’t even have a ring and how could I be your wife when I don’t even have a ring”

Way to go Raven, what’s next a Priest?

“The dagger, Raven. It means a sealed bond in my heritage. A bond made between a husband and a wife, which you willing took to save the pathetic Titans a year ago in the League of Shadows base.” His voice grew more husky and his breathe drove her senses away as he nibbled at her ear lobe. She was supposed to be mad, she was supposed to blast him to pieces and scatter every inch of his being at different dimensions for revealing something as important as being married, but his tone - well, that’s definitely not helping.

“What now? You want me to quit being a Titan, take sides with you and go against them?”

“Baby steps, beloved. Baby steps”. His left hand toyed with the hem of her dress, further breaking the already half broken control towards her urging needs that pooled in very being.  

“Just a kiss and a promise to keep that coward Conner away from you will do”.  She could feel the cold air of the young night kissing her wide spread pale skin that already missed the warmth touch of the assassin.

“And if I resist?”

“You really think you could resist me, beloved? Since it is our anniversary I will be generous enough to make another request”. His eyes grew darker with every words as his katana slightly battered against the cold wall.

“How about blasting the Titans tower to the ground while that stupid Gar and Jaime are trying with their half-celled brains to defuse the bomb or how about giving black fire all the 18 ways to kill Kori like a true assassin in the middle of their fight right now in Kansas or how about giving Slade Wilson the true identity of Dick Grayson and his fellow bat clan or how about letting Conner suffer in the hands of Bizarre Superman, left alone to die by a Kryptonite stabbing.” He hummed the last few parts as he withdraw from the spot he previously stood.  

“On second thought how about all of the above?”

“You are kidding. I would have received an alert signal at least if one of these is happening right now”.

“You mean this?” Damian raised a small communicator from his pocket still humming like an undisturbed teenager enjoying his long drive to no destiny at all.

“Give it back”. She raised her hand trying to snatch the communicator but in vain.

“Did I forget to mention that you have to be a grown woman to snatch a stuff, beloved”. His eye brow arched itself up.

That’s it. She could bear all of his sarcasms, all of his threats and even all of his flirts but not even for the shake of Azar would she let this damn Demon Spawn comment on her height and hurt her pride in nothing more than mere seconds. That’s not going to happen. Not today.

Raven rose to her tip-toes grabbing Damian’s collar to support her in the process but accidentally twirled their legs and slipped right on top of him. Their lips were locked like the mere existence of one depends on the other, when Raven realized the state she has put herself into.

Yeah, that’s how you snatch a communicator from a tall guy, who threatens to blast your whole family.

She would be cheating herself the entire time if she hesitated to accept that she did like the Demon’s head for a reasonably long time now. But she is definitely not going to let her pride get hurt.

“So, you got your gift. Now defuse the bomb and un-mess every mess you made”

“And all it took was calling you - short”. Damian let an almost an inaudible chuckle escape his throat.

He pulled out the dagger from Raven’s waist band and seethed it properly. “Don’t hurt yourself playing with this doll, beloved”.

“My team…”, Raven question was cut short by Damian as he spoke.

“They are safe. For now”

BOOM…

From the frequency of the sound wave she could say that it was near the Titans Tower.

“Well, except for one I guess”

With one last peck on her lips he disappeared into the shadows as if he never existed a few minutes ago.

--

Thank Azar!

There was not a single scratch on the tower. Not even one. At least he kept few of his words.

But the real horror stroke her when she felt no living presence inside the tower.

“Umm.. Rae what are you doing up late in the night?”, Dick asked as he and the other Titans entered the tower with handful of shopping bags. “You are all fine?”. She will never spell it out loud but deep down she knew that she couldn’t stand their loss. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Yeah, we are fine. It’s a little cold out there. But don’t worry we won’t catch a cold, Rae. If that’s what you are worried about”, Gar uttered with no care in the world as he glanced through the contents of the fridge.

“Where have you been?” was all she managed to ask when she realized that she wasn’t dreaming.

“We were out…”, Kori barely had a chance to finish when Raven added “Crime fighting?”

“Ah… shopping, Raven. I don’t think it is a custom on Earth to crime fight every time you step out into the public, is it Dick?”.

“Unless or otherwise you are in Gotham, no”, Dick replied as he loaded the fridge with the contents of the grocery bags.

“So, where is Conner?”, inquired Jaime as he entered the main hall. “Isn’t he in the tower?”, Kori added.

“There wasn’t anyone in the tower when I arrived”, Raven replied as a loud thud followed their conversation.

“Conner!”, Gar yelled as he reached him. The rest of the Titans followed by.

--

“What the hell happened dude?”, asked Gar as he tried to touch the bruise near his right eye.

“OUCH!”

“That’s just a small bruise, Conner. I have seen worse”, Dick replied while analyzing his wounds.

“And a broken wrist”, Conner added trying to rise his wounded hand but in vain.

“It’s just a minor injury, amigo. You will be alright as soon as the Sun’s back”, Jaime reassured him while attending to his wounds.

“Here, let me heal you”, Raven offered taking a step towards but the wound deepened as if it was being cut from inside out. Conner could barely resist the urge to break the table he sat on.

“Raven, is that a Kryptonite you are wearing?”, Dick pointed at the green stone that somehow perfectly settled around her neck.

“If that’s causing our flirty Superboy to yell like a mad man then it is definitely a Kent-repellent”, Jaime added.

“A kryptonite? Not again”, Conner banged his head against the wall as if that would make his day any better.

If you don’t have to do it the easy way then I will have the pleasure of teaching him decency in my own way.

“Raven, I know you mean no harm but I don’t think Conner could take any more kryptonite today. So, would you mind…”, Gar tried to get rid of the kryptonite that adorned her neck.

“Here let me try”, Kori flared a small star bolt which seemed to have no effect on it either.

“It seems you have to stay away from Conner for a few days until we find a way to remove that thing off your neck. By the way, it seems to have no effect on you Raven. You may leave, we will take care of Conner”

Seems like he played a particular demon played his part well at keeping Raven away from Conner.

Raven made a short nod and walked towards her room. In the background, she could clearly hear the boys filling Conner with questions about the attack.

“So, was it Bizarre the reason behind this?”, Dick asked as he finished cleaning the wounds.

“No, it was a masked man with a Katana”, Conner replied.

“And you - a bullet proof being got this from a Katana?”, Gar’s curiosity reached its peak when Conner made Kryptonian curses under his breathe.

“Stop touching my wound, Gar”

“You call yourself a super but you can’t stand a broken wrist” Gar arched both of his eye brows wanting for a genuine explanation.

“I have not even once been injected, Pea-brain” was all Raven could hear, when she disappeared into her own shadows. 

                                                                 - Samuel Damian Fernandez

Hi, everyone! This is just a one shot, not a great one but worth giving a try. Like I have mentioned before English is my 8th priority language. So, if you find faults in my work just let me know. Also, share your thoughts on this one shot, so I may get an idea for future modifications. 

Punardarśaāya 😉 👋

[theredsuzuran]

Douma x reader - Innocence

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Took me a long time to upload a new content am so sorry for the delay I was really busy with school assignments therefore I cannot manage the time to write. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors on my behalf, I hope you enjoy.

Warning : Dark themes like gore, blood and violence, degradation and swearing, mature content.

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The moon shone brightly above the sky as it's light leak through the branches illuminating the famous building of the eternal paradise cult. A new set of followers rushed into the dwelling in hopes of fulfilling their selfish desires, diminishing their agonies and enriching their possessions. However a particular human with her tattered kimono seem not to be interested to convey anything although the people around her would die to witness even a glimpse of the charismatic leader as for now she was busy running along the wide long corridors

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed throughout the building as a herd of followers attempted on catching the miscreant who disrupted the peaceful atmosphere prevailing over the supreme cult. The already annoyed and frustrated people were all worked up to catch the energetic human who on the other hand have thoughts of escaping this place they called paradise. If only she was careful enough to notice her mother's strange behavior soon as they entered the place but how can you possibly blame an innocent little girl like her, or so she thought. Afraid she might lose sight of her treacherous mother who abandoned her just moments ago she desparety stumbled her way out although that didn't concerned her simple thinking process but that's exactly how complicated the situation was.

Turning one last time to look behind if those weird people were still following her or not when suddenly she bumped into a Tall muscular figure standing infront of her soft delicate frame she must have missed him approaching while focusing on looking behind. "Please just leave me alone!" The girl fumed coherently still overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing towards her like waves something that she was not accustomed with as for eighteen years she lived indoors interacting rarely with anyone and playing with dolls most of the time.

"Watch your tongue brat" one of the men standing beside the tall man spoke with disgust hinted in his voice. "Crouch down you insolent woman, where's your gratitude it's because of lord Douma's benevolence that you are still here or you'd be rotting in the street thanks to your mother", the people around her started whispering and murmuring behind her back but she was not bother since her senses were filled with newfound wrath how dare they insult your angel like mother? No longer able to contain your anger you shouted with tears "Then take me to my mother, I don't want to stay here alone".

"Your mother abandoned you here so shut up and deal with it, now move your way for master" the man grunted irritatedly motioning the other followers to grab her and take her away.

"No don't touch me" she wiggled under their grip rushing towards douma blocking him from entering the room by grabbing his arm tightly "I am not going anywhere until I know where my mother is" she cried loudly making the demon flinch with surprise, how pitiful the creature looked in his polychromatic eyes. He have seen many humans crying before him for obvious reasons which honestly have become his monotonous routine but somehow this girl acted quite weird being her age, interesting him enough to investigate. As he was about to speak the man beside him pushed the girl hashly making her lose her balance and fall on the wooden floor.

"How dare you touch master with your filthy hands bitch" he lift his hand to slap her tight in the face but someone grabbed his wrist just in time to save the girl from further humiliation.

"Silence" all the questioning glances, judging looks and whispering stopped at once as douma spoke nonchalantly making the latter shiver in regret.

"I am sorry douma sama" the man uttered in pure horror having no intentions to displease his beloved lord. "I was-"

"I don't want to see that happen again, understood?" He replied coldly still maintaining his wide smile as the previous chaos shifted into complete hush. The man lowered his head down with shame nodding silently. Douma averted his attention and glanced at the figure underneath making the girl jolt a bit but his once frightening demeanor changed into a cheerful and optimistic one in matter of second upon seeing her.

"Please take her to my chamber and treat her wounds" the man clapped with a wide grin plastered on his face. A group of female servants came rushing to help picking her up. The girl being too bewildered did not protested and simply follow his tone as if she was hypnotized by his neatly decorated persona.

The girl was immediately taken away without delay and as per douma he needed to attend his cult duties. First of all she was washed and changed into a beautiful kimono as soon as she stepped inside, then she was escorted into a room filled with antiques and lavish items which she have never seen. Her face lit up with fascination as she began venturing those decorative pieces.

"Looks like you have ease down a bit, good good" A familiar tone struck in her ears startling her a bit only to turn back and view the handsome cult leader although it was a bit strange because she did not heard anyone approaching.

"Aww did I scared you?" He laughed covering his face with golden fans.

"No I was just- you came in without a warning, I was taken aback" she explained blushing trying her best not to act immature to which douma laughed uncontrollably as he found this human's expression adorable say entertaining in his words.

"D-dont laugh at me" she pouted crossing her arms in the attempt.

"I am sorry (y/n), you really amuse me" he replied still grinning. However there was a moment of awkward silence between them as he uttered her name abruptly.

"I didn't tell you my name.." after a long pause she replied to him with a confuse look in her face.

"I know everyone's name who are living under my supervision including yours besides what kind of cult leader I am if I don't have basic information about my fellow followers. Oh look I have been talking to you without giving the chance to let you talk my bad" he laughed again waving his fans creating another awkward situation. Causing you to sweatdrop on his remark.

"Say (y/n) how old are you?" to which she replied enthusiastically "I am 8 years old and will turn 9 soon"

"Ah you don't look like one" douma grinned closing his eyes in the process.

"Yeah I get that a lot" she remarked shyly.

"Your mother is one of my followers" he continued

"Really?" her eyes sparked with hope as she approached douma with anticipation grabbing his arms for the second time starling him, she really like holding hands eh? he have experiences like that but somehow this girl made him feel different so he allowed her but then she stopped halfway through her words "I really miss her it's been a week since she left me here" her voice dropped with sadness.

Douma felt no sympathy for humans or anything as such, he have learned to fake his emotions from a very tender age eversince he was born to the extent that even seeing his mother killing her husband mercilessly failed to evoke feelings within. He clearly did not understand what she was feeling he just stared at her with a blank expression only to replace it quickly with a grim look even faking few tears. "(Y/n) chan you know its okay you will still have me" he patted the girl in an attempt to comfort her.

"Friends?" (Y/n) replied between her tears.

"If that's how you want us to be" douma smiled at her gently shocking himself for a second because he didn't think of smiling?

Things escalated soon after that incident, (y/n) was a kind and compassionate person from inside and out and in not time the cult followers started loving her presence. As often douma would let her accompany him and most of the time she stayed by his side following him everywhere and he didn't mind that at all moreover he appreciated her company. (Y/n) was like a fresh bud to him who depicted innocence and purity he loved spoiling her with expensive gifts yet she never showed signs of greediness and genuinely appreciated his thoughtfulness slowly forgetting the past life she was in and cherishing her friendship with douma. At first she was reluctant and didn't like getting so much attention but in the course of time she bonded better with everyone and was quite content with the life she was leading. As for douma he began to depend on (y/n) to the point that not seeing her face for even one day would make him go insane and he didn't understand why not like he want to because all he cared about was how she made him feel so many varieties of pleasant emotions he wish he could feel. Eating her was out of context.

However all good things must come to an end for he is someone to not rest in peace after the sin he have committed for centuries. Seeing douma paying her more attention, spoiling her with a ravish lifestyle and even letting her stay by his side all the time made some of his cult members terribly envious they wanted to punish her for taking their chances of stealing the spotlight. There was this one room that he forbade his followers to enter for obvious reasons and specifically for (y/n) because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake. This was exactly what they wanted (y/n) to do break the rules and Douma's trust. Like that there would be no more favouritism on her with others.

"Ah (y/n), there you are" one of the female member approached her one fine morning.

"Yes how may I help you?" She asked cheerfully

"Lord douma have asked for your presence in the forbidden room tonight and he said its urgent"

"Aren't we all prohibited to go inside"

"Oh (y/n) it's true master have arrived today and he wants your presence"

Upon hearing that news her heart elated with happiness, it has been two weeks since he last saw douma around and she missed him but something felt off about the whole situation douma always sees (y/n) first before tending his followers then why did he not come meet her did he not miss her like she did?

She was lost in her thoughts until she found two hands waving and snapping infort of her face.

"Don't be late, okay?" With that said the female hurried back into other room leaving (y/n) behind even though the situation seem kinda odd maybe douma was busy afterall.

At night (y/n) went into the restricted area. She stood infront of the shoji door in absolute dilemma debating whether or not to enter the room or go back. There was her desire of meeting douma on one hand and not breaking his trust by entering the room on the other. In the end she decided not to but as she was turning back she heard someone grunting in pain behind the closed doors being a compassionate person, she decided to open the door and enter into the darkness adjusting her eyes in the process, a pungent smell hit her nostrils making her cover her mouth and to her absolute terror the scene infront of her made her puke in disgust.

A pile of Mutilated bodies, mostly women laid around lifelessly on the blood stained tatami mattress. Many having no limbs, some headless and organs missing from their body as if someone had ate all of that. The whole room was a mess full of unfortunate people. She felt sick and began crawling down her way back from the corpses. However she felt a tight grip on her left foot upon looking down she witness the sight of a woman her intestines oozing out of her stomach begging for help. (Y/n) stood there perplexed unable to say anything chocking through tears.

"I told you not to come here, why?" (Y/n) turned her head violently to see douma standing in a distance his countenance cold and sinister evident that he was highly displeased upon seeing his innocent flower disobeying his instructions.

"It's not... like... what you see" (y/n) cried fearfully but douma didn't seem to buy it well in a blink of an eye she found herself in Douma's arms as he aggressively dragged her out of the room.

"What's going on douma" no word came out from the usual lively douma.

"It's hurting me your grip" no reply again to which she forcefully tried to stand still with all her strength. This time douma stopped his features hidden under his bangs making her unable to figure the expression he was carrying.

"Is this why douma forbade us to enter the room" no reply

"Are you responsible for murdering those innocent people?" No reply

"DOUMA" she shouted

"Why you want to join them?" Douma finally looked at her his eyes glowing dangerously proving his existence to be something unnatural. (Y/n's) eyes widen at his remarks as tears rolled down her visage.

"I hate you.." she murmured

"What?" He tilted his head letting his guard down a bit at her hurtful comments.

"I HATE YOU" she pushed douma roughly and flew from the place running deep into the forest for she knew who he was and what he is capable of doing. Tearing down she constantly reminisce the moments she shared but she cannot allow herself to sympathize his heinous crimes. Why is it that the people I love are always taken away from me? She thought. Exhausted from running she halted in order to catch her breath while glancing back to see if he was following, there was no one indeed so a sudden feeling of relief gushed in her body. However turning her head back she saw him standing inches apart from her face which made her shiver and fall onto the knees.

"Why are you running away from me (y/n)" he said apatheticly his head lowered at her level. She did not reply and stayed quite.

"Is it true that you don't love me after all the things I did for you?" Covering his face with one hand his eyes glowing under the moonlight a look of dejection written on his face. There was complete silence in the forest except the sound of rustling trees.

"Answer me" holding her face now firmly he growled making her flinch under his breath. In one last desperate attempt (y/n) tried to stab douma with a tree branch she found laying on the ground but unfortunately douma was faster and easily dodged the attack and in a swift motion he hit her with immense strength causing her fragile little body to tremble in pain as she coughed mucus mixed with blood.

"How foolish of you" he crouched down her height staring intensely at the quivering figure of the miserable girl. As for (y/n) her body ached but more was the tightness in the chest that she was experiencing in the moment.

He pulled her by the hair roughly making her scream in pain although at this point all she could manage with her cracking voice were inaudible screams.

"Why did you disobey me? (Y/n)..." who knew beneath that friendly kind face was hiding a undeniably deadly and calculative demon and at this point it was clear for her that he was anything but human.

"Who are you?" these few words manage to escape from her shaky lips in between low grunts.

"I am the leader of the eternal paradise cult"

"Wrong" to which he tightened his grip making her shriek again.

"You humans are so dumb believing in the existence of primordial deities where in reality its just a myth, a fairytale, created for pleasuring the sufferings of mere human. Being superior than you mortals I wanted to make these pitiful existence happy and that's why I was born and what you saw there" his lips curved into a cheeky smile revealing his deadly fangs creeping the shit out of the already scared girl. "I eat them so that they can always be with me and attain salvation" a sinister laughter escape from his mouth as he covered it with his golden fans. (Y/n) unable to process the new sets of information knots formed in her stomach making her sick in the guts.

"I ate your mother too, oh she was ungrateful after all the things I did to her just like you" protruding her eyes with pure shock she felt her veins popping out and blood boiling in pure rage.

"You are a monster, you think your stupid morals would persuade people to think like you do, I despise you douma I thought we were friends and you took away the one I cherished the most?"

"You think your mother loved you?" Douma snapped. The duality of this was man was insane, all the things he does or says are plastic.

"She never cared for your life, you want to know why? I will tell you since you insist" douma dragged her out of forest holding a fistful of her hair tightly inflicting great discomfort to the girl while he continued with his harsh statements and deliberate insults.

"You were just a burden, behaving like a fucking child with the alluring body of yours"

"No my mother promised me..she would protect me.. you are lying"

"While you were crying everyday inside my shrine that lowly woman enjoyed her life indulging in adultery with various cult members leaving her sick husband and mentally retarded daughter in the dark" every word he uttered spread vemon into her ears.

"Still she wanted more and more and more, what a greedy whore" douma continued.

"Do you know how much difficult it was for me to control myself around you? While you sway your hips and act innocently making those hungry men lust over you, how much dumb can you be?"

"What do you mean I don't understand.. douma"

"I did everything I can for you yet you remain ungrateful, disrespectful? Well guess its runs in your blood and I thought you are innocent but it turns out that you are just like the rest of them, naive"

Her eyes widened with every hurtful remarks he made about her and she did not understand why she felt that way shouldn't she be resentful towards him for killing her beloved mother but here she is weeping constantly because douma was treating her like he never did before.

"But that's fine (y/n) I can not bring myself to hurt you I love you and we shall always be together whether you like it or not" nothing reached in her ears anymore as her body grew numb. Her eyes shut as she carried the unbearable pain in her heart slowly loosing consciousness and remaining sanity.

It would have been easier if she died but alas a mere human like her is doomed at his mercy.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Family Secrets (Demetri Volturi x Reader)

WARNING: Dark themes mentioned!

For as long as you could remember, your mother was always a rigid woman. She was constantly tense. You used to believe it was because she worked so much to keep the two of you going but after some time, you had to wonder if it was just a personality trait. She didn't have friends, or people she considered friends specifically. Her focus was always on you, the house and her job. Your mother said she didn't have any family but you. She was disowned by her parents and had one sibling that also cast her out. She never told you why. She never told you anything about her life before you. Eventually you stopped asking because she wouldn't entertain the question and instead got more agitated with the more curious you had become as you grew up. 

The next common topic was your father, someone you wondered about since your earlier school days. You noticed the kids in your class with their parents. Mum's, dad's, mums and dads, two mum's and two dad's. All had more information about their family than you did. Your mother also didn't talk about your father. You knew you had one but your mum hadn't been in contact with him since she was pregnant with you. She gave no reason why, nor did she give any clue about who he was. He didn't matter, she had told you and that was the end if it.  However being the child you were, that only raised more questions. 

Things boiled over a few months, living most of your childhood in the dark about your family. The questions bouncing around in your head. That was until you discovered some old photos in your mother's room. 

You were almost taken aback, there were two pictures of your mother both in different angles. She wore a sundress and sun hat, her head tilted back mid laugh, looking at something out of frame. Behind her, out of focus was what looked like a large dark brown door. To the left a red smudge that could only be described as a person and many other smudges in the background. After a moment you recognised those smudges to be people, simply out of focus like the rest of the background. You couldn't help but stare at her brilliant smile. Your mother had always been a pretty woman but she never smiled as wide as she had in this picture. Not that you could remember anyway. The woman was younger, identical yet completely different in nature. The mother you knew was very reserved, never having a smile that showed her teeth and practically lived in business suits with heels. Even a small smile from her had to be earned with good reason. You felt a pang in your chest, knowing that this version of your mother was long gone. Even more so, this was the person she wanted to hide you from so much. The other photograph had a what simply looked to be the wall of what you could only assume was the same building and people passing by in the background. Suddenly the photographs were ripped from your hands. You let out a startled cry as your mother looked at you with a fury you had never seen before. "I raised you better than to go through people's belongings!" She snapped. "But I-" You quickly discovered there was no room for excuses. "Go to your room!" You couldn't understand what made her so angry about those photographs but you didn't dare argue, the subject immediately dropped the next day. 

It wasn't long until there was bigger worries. It started off with small but odd symptoms. Until they became so frequent that they couldn't be ignored. A doctor's appointment turned into many. The doctors appointments moved to hospital appointments and that was when everything went very wrong. 

Your mother's illness was very aggressive so much so you had been forced to face the fact that you thought she'd be around for many decades yet, you woke up one morning to the fact that she only had months left. She eventually stopped working and had a couple of appointments with lawyers. It didn't take long for you to figure out why such meetings were happening. It became clear that any well moment she had, she was tying up loose ends. The house would be taken care of, as well as her burial, her money going to you in inheritance.  However there was one thing that you refused to think about and she struggled to bring up. An even further harsh reality that not everything could be fixed. You were still young. Whilst late teens, you were still regarded a child. You had no other family to live with or contact, it was more than likely that you'd be put into the foster system for at least a year and then be left to figure it out on your own. Secretly you couldn't help but feel anger towards your mother for that. This is what happens! You would think to yourself internally. This is what happens when kids don't have family! 

As time went on, hospital appointments became admissions. That was when you had to start packing some things for her and that was when you found even more things. Your brow furrowed to find some old letters, they weren’t recent. You could tell by their condition but they weren’t dated. You quickly skimmed the letter, this was someone your mother was romantically involved with. That was clear but who it was from wasn’t so clear. There had been no mention of you and the more you read the more apparent it became that this letter as well as the others were older than you. All were written and initialed by the same person. ‘D.V.’ 

You didn’t know anyone by those initials and to your recollection, neither did your mother. Or at least that’s what you thought. It made you wonder if you knew your mother at all. You kept your discovery a secret. You didn’t even know what you were looking at after all, some of the writing, you couldn't understand. This person’s handwriting was elegant and neat and in complete cursive. You’d have to sit down properly and read them to try and understand what had been written. 

After a couple of nights studying these letters you found nothing. They weren’t important, love letters that provided no context. Your thoughts drifted to your mother. She was weaker now, curled up in her hospital bed in Forks. Although she was just as grim as always.You wondered if you should tell her what you discovered, be honest about your discovery. You pictured her in the same spot you left her on that bed, night fall outside with blue-ish lights in various sections of the room. She preferred to be alone and luckily she was given her own room. Although you wondered if it wasn’t so much lucky as it was a favour for other patients. People who were dying weren’t usually in wards, they were in private rooms. Dying peacefully and out of sight for some dignity. It was hard to picture that she could be one of those people, but it was a reality you had to face. Even if with everyday, you waited to hear from doctors when she got to go home. However, all they ever told you in gracious terms was that those chances got slimmer each passing day. You imagined a doctor entering with a warm smile, a smile beyond his years as well as his wisdom.  “You’re working the night shift tonight?” Your mother would ask him.  “Yes, Ms (L/N).” The doctor would nod, his appearance and his voice being something of an angel. “I’m here to check up on you. How are you feeling today?”  “Like a useless bag of bones,” Your mother would mutter. “useless.”  "You are most certainly not useless." The doctor would smile with sad eyes yet a twinkle would still resonate, as though he knew this to be fact. "You're a mother after all." She nodded. "They won't need me anymore. They're grown up."  "My wife likes to believe our children, no matter how old, will always be children." Your mothers mouth twisted. "She is correct, Doctor. We would do anything for our children." She seemed distracted almost immediately. “Would you turn on the TV?” 

You blinked, shaking the thought away before checking your watch. Ten o’clock. You called it a night, watching a movie before bed. The next you, you began your routine, getting ready, making sure the house was in order before finally collecting some things to leave for the hospital. The place almost becoming a second home. 

As you arrived, you found your mother reading a book, noting it to be one of her favourites. She enjoyed books about travelling to far away places, even a few romances about someone meeting the love of their life in a foreign place. She looked up at you, marking her page before placing it at her bedside.  “Hello, did you sleep well?” She asked.  “Hey.” You smiled at her. “Yeah, I didn’t seem to notice the silence as much this time.” You struggled to feel completely comfortable in that house. You hadn’t wanted to leave your previous house and so moving to your current one left you with a sour expression and a nasty attitude. You had always told yourself you moved for her, rather than because you didn’t have a choice. Although you hadn’t realised that mindset would backfire. The house didn’t feel like home and now that your mother had been in hospital for some time, you felt that you were intruding.  “That’s good.” She nodded, looking a little more peaceful. “Very good.”  “Can I ask you something?” You asked hesitantly and she hummed in confirmation as you took a seat at her bedside. “When I was packing you another bag the another night, I found some old letters.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “They were rather personal.” You added. “Signed by a ‘D.V.’? Your mother sighed with a frustrated eye roll. ”I...who is that?” You asked.  “No one worth while. Back then when I knew that person, I was young and stupid.”  “So why do you still have them?”  “I don’t know!” She snapped. “They aren’t important!” 

A knock at the door interrupted your conversation. You were startled to see who had walked in the door. A man with blonde slicked back hair, pale skin and gold eyes entered. You must have seen him passing by before as it was the same doctor you had imagined as a scenario in your head last night. You couldn’t help but look mildly confused.  “Ms (L/N).” The doctor nodded to your mother.  “Dr Cullen.” She greeted him in response. Your eyes shifted between him and your mother in confusion.  “This is (Y/N).” Your mother nodded at you.  “Ah, hello there (Y/N). I haven’t seen you since you were a baby, forgive me for not recognising you.” Dr Cullen smiled, reaching out his hand for a handshake. You reciprocated the motion. “Please, call me Carlisle.”  “Nice to meet you.” You said quietly, unable to shake off his statement. He had said that he hadn’t seen you since you were a baby but he looked younger than your mother and barely ten years older than yourself. Whilst it was possible mathematically, you couldn’t help but find something a little off about it. Then again it would have made sense that he was a kid at the time. With that, you shrugged it off.  “I’m taking over your mothers case.”  “Oh, okay.” You nodded. “Is that allowed? If, uh, you know-”  “(Y/N), Carlisle is an old friend who I havent seen in years. There is no rule against him treating me. The circumstances call for it.” Your mother said slightly exasperated. That last line stuck with you.  “What circumstances exactly?”  “I’m more ideal for your mothers case.” Carlisle said quickly. “It’s more of my field that the previous doctor, especially with your mothers condition.”  “Oh...okay.” You nodded. ”Tell me, have the two of you discussed (Y/N)’s next steps after all of this?” Carlisle took out a pen and began rummaging into a locked cabinet behind him. He pulled out a folder with your mothers name on it.  “Not exactly.” Your mother answered. Carlisle looked over at her. “Well, have you given much thought of where you’d want them to be?”  “I have given it a lot of thought, but I don’t have much options.”  “Well is there a relative (Y/N) could stay with or you’d consider?”  “It’s just us.” You said quietly, your eyes flickering to Carlisle.  “I don’t want them put in the system but i’m not in contact with my family. I don’t have friends that I could ever ask such a thing as to take guardianship of my child.” Your mother sighed. Carlisle paused before looking over at your mother. “Would it be possible to get back in touch with these relatives?” Your mother stiffened before shaking her head with a clenched jaw. “No. I cut all contact. I’d rather it was that way.” You noticed the look your mother and Carlisle gave each other, almost like a silent conversation. Or more so a one-sided argument if you knew your mother. Carlisle trying to get through to your mother whilst your mother stubbornly refused with a sour expression.  “Well, i’d have to begin the paperwork on (Y/N)’s situation for social services immediately.” Carlisle looked almost saddened and your mother shifted in discomfort.  “(Y/N), would you bring me some tea?” Your mother asked and you slowly nodded, before digging into your bag for some money. 

After you had left, your mother spoke up breaking the silence. “They don’t know Carlisle.”  “I understand but they will need to know.”  “How would I tell them?” She snapped. “Vampires were the monsters under their bed for so long, friends with the boogeyman and werewolves. You expect me to tell them they’re half vampire and who their father is?”  “He could take care of them.” Carlisle said quietly.  “You don’t know that. That place isn’t a place to raise anyone! They’re strangers!”  “I can give you my word that they’ll always have a home with me.” Carlisle assured her.  “Whilst I live and breathe, (Y/N) will never know.” Your mother insisted.

Weeks passed and eventually so did your mother. You felt lost. Still without answers and now with nowhere to go. You couldn't help but wonder what would happen to you now. Your mother never told you. After that day, your mother assured you that you wouldn't have to worry about it. She had taken care of it. You just had to trust her. 

Carlisle had been around almost everyday since you had first met and even his wife Esme wanted to meet you when she discovered you were in the hospital visiting your mother. Esme greeted your mother like an old friend a warm smile graving her perfect features. She was clearly very caring and nurturing. Your mother seemed to appreciate that and hesitantly welcomed it. That was very out of character for your mother...at least in your eyes. You had a lot of questions when you discovered that no longer would you be going into the system. Somehow Carlisle and his wife arranged for you to be staying with them. At some point your mother had agreed to this. However, you couldn't figure out how they had done so. They weren't adopting you. That much you gathered but once again you were only left with more questions. 

The Cullen's were a strange bunch. All had gold eyes, which you weren't sure was even probable to be adopting so many kids who had matching bizarre eye colours. All but one. A girl called Renesmee, 'Nessie' for short. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh and she too seemed to get amusement out of it. She looked to be the same age as you. Then it got confusing. One of the kids, Bella, married into the family and had a biological child with Edward, who was Nessie. Yet all looked to be in their late teens, barely two years older than you and Nessie.  Another being, Emmett spoke about your mother as if he too also knew her a long time ago. The family as a whole didn't make sense yet none were willing to clear anything up for you. Somehow they were more secretive than your mother had ever been. However, they did an excellent job at keeping you calm about it. 

Carlisle took some time off from the hospital to help you settle in. He understood this was a big jump for you and a very difficult time. Carlisle had been the most familiar part of your day and he wanted to be there just as he had been prior to your mother's passing. You decided to give Carlisle some peace in his office. 

You moved to the kitchen to see Esme chopping vegetables. She looked up with a bright warm smile. "Hello, (Y/N)." "Hi, Esme." You returned her smile somewhat shyly. "What are you making?" "Renesmee is craving some vegetable soup. I'm thinking it's the time of year." Esme responded, her smile never faltering. If anyone appreciated your efforts, it was Esme. She had immediately wanted to reassure you when you had first come to stay with them. Her words stuck with you. "I know it was just you and your mother before. Living with such a large family must be very different. We'll do our best to make sure you're comfortable here. You're a part of the family now." 

Ever since you had tried to be a part of the family, rather than the outsider- as much as you wanted to hide away in your room that you had to share with Renesmee. Esme was the first to notice and she was more than encouraging. She noted the tiny details such as you no longer lingering in the kitchen doorway and now willing to approach her, just as you did to get a closer look at the pot.  "It is getting colder." You nodded. "It could be the change of weather." "I agree." Esme responded. "Would you like to help?" You thought about it. "I don't know if I can be much help." You said meekly. "I, uh, wasn't allowed near knives a lot of the time with my mum." 

You expected Esme to be confused but instead a flash of recognition rushed over her face before her usual smile. "Well, they are dangerous." Esme responded. "Here. I'll show you." "Really?" Your eyes lit up. Your mother never had time for things like this so to have Esme offer was a surprise. "Of course!" She stepped to the side, gesturing for you to stand beside her as she reached for another knife. "I'll get you to cut these." Esme put some newly washed leeks on the chopping board in front of you. You picked up the knife and Esme immediately advised you. "Put this hand on the leeks but tuck your fingers in like this, it's safer." You copied her. "Like this?" "Yes." She praised. "You hold the knife like this." She showed you where she positioned her fingers around the knifes handle. You followed suit. "That's it." You couldn't help but smile as you cut into the leek. "Well done! Those are excellent size of pieces too." Esme praised with a small grin, like a proud mother. 

You and Esme kept conversation going. Suddenly you squeaked, the knife dropping onto the cutting board with a clatter. You immediately covered your thumb. Esme however remained calm, even offering a comforting smile. "Not to worry, it doesn't look too bad." You put your bleeding thumb to your mouth before recoiling sharply. Your mother's scolding returning to your mind. Her eyes always widened before she'd swat your hand away from your mouth, demanding you didn't do it. She never told you why she was to against you doing it. She did it herself. All she would say is that it's disgusting. Esme, on the other hand, said nothing about it simply taking your hand and leading you to the sink to run it under some cold water. "It was bound to happen." She said simply. "Renesmee has done it plenty of times. She can be as clumsy as her mother used to be at times." "Someone can stop being clumsy?" You looked over at Esme who seemed to ponder the question. "Hm, perhaps that's poor phrasing. Bella still has her stumbles ever now and then but back when we first met her...?" Esme trailed off, giggling. "Bella fell many times. She got a paper cut from a birthday gift from Alice, you know." "Really?" You cracked an amused smile. Esme nodded. "Yes. Cut it on the corner of her gift, the wrapping paper no less." Esme chuckled to herself. "It drove Edward wild." She continued. "He was always so worried about her. Even now, he'll still forget how capable she is." "Never underestimate a woman." You smirked and Esme grinned. "Indeed." "Was it just paranoia or did he have reason to be worried?" Esme's smile faltered, as though remembering something bad. "Sometimes he had reason..." Her smile returned quickly. "Although mostly he was worrying over nothing." She said almost as though assuring you.  However, your mind latched to her hesitation. "I'm sorry, I ask a lot of questions. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." You apologised. "Never be afraid to ask questions in this house. It's a good thing. You're clever. I know you have a lot of questions." You said nothing as she continued. "I can't give you all the answers right now but I promise you will get them." "Can I ask some right now?" "I'll do my best to answer them." She nodded. "How did you know my mum and how did you know me? She never mentioned you." Esme pondered the question. "I can tell you how we met you?" Esme offered and you nodded frantically. "Although I can't go into every detail. Just know you'll know soon enough." You nodded in response.. "We met your mother when she was young, before she had you and she loved to travel. She had begun to see the magnificent things about the world and was eager for more. After a year, she returned one night at our doorstep. She was scared and had a baby in her arms. We helped her get back on her feet but by the time you were weeks old she insisted that she could do things on her own and since then she had moved around. Carlisle took her case, recognising her name.” "Do you know who my dad is?" You asked hurriedly and Esme stiffened. "Yes. Your mother told us that night. We know him but not on a personal level.” You wanted to know more but before you could ask, Esme put a hand on top of yours. "That's all I can tell you, right now but you will know everything soon. If you want to." 

Renesmee flopped onto her bed with a huff mumbling into the covers about being tired. "You and me both." You stretched. It had been two days since you had last slept. You had always struggled with sleeping every night and no amount of doctors appointments seemed to help. Your mother eventually gave in, assuring you it was fine and perhaps you were just different that way. However she made you promise you'd keep that to herself. That was until you started living with the Cullen's however. You noticed that the Cullen's seemed to be the same and even more so, Renesmee also only slept a couple days at a time. The two of you bonded over that. 

"Sometimes I just feel like I'm different from everyone else." You had once told her. "We are." She responded brightly. "We're rare." "What?" You laughed. "How do you know!?" "I just do!" She grinned. "Oh Renesmee..." You sighed after your laughter died down. "You talk so much crap sometimes." Her laughter roared back to life and she pushed you. You nearly fell off her bed in the process only making the two of you laugh harder. "You are though." Renesmee said finally, rolling into her side to face you. "You just don't know it yet." You sighed. "I mean it." She insisted. "You and I are more alike than you think. We're rare. You'll see." She rolled back onto her back, a moment of silence filling the room. "We're so cool." She finished and you scoffed with a giggle. 

 A few days later, you were with Carlisle in his office. You asked if you could sit with him, enjoying the peace. Somehow by design, the office was away from the house. You found that most weren't built that way. Carlisle agreed and you watched as he wrote in the same cursive writing that those letters had before. You thought about your time with the Cullen's. In the strangest way, they had their oddities and secrets. The secrets you had grown accustomed to thanks to your mother but the oddities bugged you. You never saw them eat, they'd leave every week for one night leaving only you and Renesmee. They never went to bed before you and we're always awake before you. They grew worried about the sunlight on the days it threatened to break through the grey clouds. Their eyes changed colour. Something about them free you closer and that tempted you to tell a secret you had never told anyone. 

"Carlisle, can I talk to you about something?" You asked your eyes peeling away from his writing and rising to his face. He paused, looking up at you. "Of course. Is something wrong?" "No, I- uh... I've never told anyone this, not even my mum. I feel like I can trust you with this and that you won't think i’m...weird." You admitted. Carlisle smiled at you. "I'm good with 'weird' individuals. You tend to find that they're truly magnificent. Go ahead." You shifted in your seat. "I don't know if it's some dumb teenage thing but...I think I'm different from other kids my age." "In what way?" Carlisle asked seemingly intrigued, putting down his pen and resting his head on his hand. "I dunno, I just the feeling...it was little things." "It's alright." Carlisle reassured you. "I'm here to help." You leaned forward slightly. "So, when I was little, I fell off a balcony. Fourteen foot drop and I felt the pain, tried to get up but my left leg gave out on me. I remember my mother screaming that I had broken my leg. She took me to a hospital, by the time I arrived, I felt better. My X-rays came back saying I was absolutely fine. I thought I had super powers, I fixed my broken leg. After that my mother insisted to the doctor's she never said a 'fourteen foot drop'. She said I fell at a 'four feet drop'. She took me there because of how awkwardly I landed and was concerned about my leg." Slowly you shook your head. "I remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember perfectly what she said and I remember where I fell. It was fourteen feet. " You took a breath. "I remember every birthday, every Christmas and every miniscule minute in between." You continued. "I don't sleep every night. I don't get tired like everyone else. I always heard things others couldn't." You swallowed, leaning back in your chair. "My mother lied to so many people about events in my life and I don't understand why. Most of all, I don't understand why I feel so different from others. Like an imposter but even I don't know what lies underneath." 

You looked at your lap momentarily before lifting your gaze to examine Carlisle's expression. He didn't look appalled or uncomfortable, in fact he looked exactly the opposite. Perhaps he heard this sort of thing every day. "Am I crazy?" You asked lightly. Carlisle shook his head. "No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I believe you're very intelligent. You pick up smaller details that others don't. You're seeing the pieces of a puzzle and are trying to out them together. However, you haven't seen the full picture. So how can you really know what you're looking at?" Carlisle continued. "I can help you. I can answer all of these questions but once I do, your life will be changed forever. It can't be ignored and whatever you wish to do with the information I give you. I want to support you with. Are you prepared for that?" You nodded. 

Carlisle moved to a sofa and gestured for you to sit beside him. "This is a long story and I need to keep an open mind and listen to all of it first." You nodded. "We knew your mother through a group of individuals. She had just finished her studies and was travelling the world with her friends. She wanted to go everywhere and anywhere. She was young and wanted to see everything, now that she was free from responsibilities. She went to Volterra, Italy." You remembered the photographs you saw of her smiling, looking at something out of frame, mid laugh. "They wanted to see the castle there." Carlisle quickly dug out a box and inside were the same pictures you had discovered. He had stored them away for you, no questions asked. He pointed to one. "This is the fountain outside of the castle and in the background you can see blurred figures. Cameras weren't the best back then but this is a line of tourists to go and see inside the castle. He pointed to a particular red blur. "It is beyond likely that we know who this is. A woman named Heidi. She's a part of a group called the Volturi." You soon noticed he had photos that you hadn't seen before. The third was one that was definitely of the same day and time. Another angle, minutes before or after the previous two. However, the tourist line was more clearer behind your mother in this shot. This 'Heidi' was in a red tight dress with high heels and her brown curled hair framed her perfect face. Your eyes narrowed, noticing that this 'Heidi' was looking directly at your mother. "Heidi offered your mother and her friends a tour, free of charge." Your mother never took free samples, she would always pull you away, looking unnerved by anyone who offered anything free. Carlisle sighed, as though struggling to find the right words. "Your mother's life changed that day. She, like, many other humans never believed in monsters but she learned they can be very real and they aren't under the bed. The group, as I mentioned, are known as the Volturi. They're almost royalty in our kind...the vampire world." Your eyes narrowed. "Let me finish. It sounds bizarre right now but you need to hear everything to understand." Carlisle reminded you and you nodded, pushing back your building questions. "Those tours are organised for that group to feed upon humans and that day, your mother was the only one who survived. She had watched her friends and strangers from all walks of life be murdered. She was given a choice, she could live and do what was asked of her with no questions, or she could die with the others. She was young and would have done anything to live, like everyone else and so she agreed. Your mother met a man named Demetri. He too was a part of the Volturi- a vampire. Your mother was very drawn to him and the two of them spend more time together." Carlisle tilted his head. "They were in love." "D.V..." you whispered under your breath, remembering the letters. Carlisle nodded. "An old friend of mine, Aro, is the leader of the Volturi. One of three. He took interest in my grand daughter after she was born." Your face scrunched up in disgust and Carlisle chuckled. "Not like that. You'll understand, you're doing well." Carlisle continued. "He wanted to learn more about what she is but due to our history with the Volturi, we'd never allow him near her. Renesmee was a child, not an experiment. So he wanted one to study. Demetri was selected to help create one...and Demetri chose your mother. Which is why she lived." You trembled slightly but continued to listen which Carlisle seemed to appreciate. "Your mother didn't know Aro's plan and had grown very attached to Demetri, soon enough she was pregnant. By then, she found out her purpose. She didn't want her child to be studied, no matter what it originated from. So when she gave birth, it was a miracle she survived. Whether it was preparation or luck, no one knew. She took the baby and fled. By then Aro had grown bored of the idea and didn't come after her. Neither did Demetri. Months had passed and she was on my doorstep holding a baby and begging for my help. The rest you know." Carlisle took your hands in his. "Renesmee was born to Bella and Edward. She is half human and half vampire. Bella gave birth to her whilst still human and my family and I are all vampires. We don't feed on humans, we've never condoned it. That's not our way of life. We feed on animals, 'vegetarians' if you will. We don't sleep, every week we leave you and Renesmee to hunt. Renesmee was the first hybrid the Volturi had ever seen and Aro wanted to know more about how similar they are to vampires. I think you know where I'm going with this."  "We're rare, you and I!" You remembered Renesmee words from that night. "The baby..." You mumbled and Carlisle nodded giving your hands a light squeeze. "You did have super powers that fixed your legs. Vampire venom is quick to heal injuries. Injuries you and Renesmee are more susceptible to be because you are still half human. You moved constantly because you aren't entirely human. However there has been many differences with hybrids. Another Hybrid Nahuel was fully matured after seven years since birth. Renesmee grew very fast, and at this rate will be fully matured in a matter of months. She's taken a little longer than Nahuel. You however, have taken even longer than her. Her growth is double yours." Carlisle looked at your expression. "You were three years old but had the intelligence of a five year old. You've been moved schools and home so many times as to avoid suspicion, never staying long enough for anyone to notice why you suddenly looked to be eight within a matter of a year. These things aren't patterns. Renesmee showed me that. Sometimes your growth will be very fast and other times it'll be slower. Vampires don't age and can only die by fire. Your mother told me before she passed that she was worried you had already stopped aging. It's possible and you need to know that." "What?" You managed out quietly. "Think about it, (Y/N). It's been three years and you look exactly the same." Carlisle answered. You were taken aback that your mother had mentioned that to Carlisle. "You don't feel right around the other children because you aren't like other children." "Why would my mother hide this from me?" You asked finally. "I think she wanted to give you something that in the end, you can't have. A normal human life. She wanted that for you but...your biology, could never allow that. Do you understand?"  You remembered all the times your mother would look alarmed and swat your hand away from any paper cuts and you must have had said it out loud because Carlisle answered you. "I think she was worried you'd enjoy blood. I can't say I agreed with her methods, (Y/N). Suppressing instincts is never good for someone. However she didn't want you to have anything other than normality. I think it's important that you know that nothing your mother did, keeping this from you, would hurt you. You can survive on blood just as you can on human food but she couldn't account for the aging. I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. However, in the end...she didn't want you to be alone." 

You took a week to process what you had been told. Everything had changed just as predicted. Yet in the same way, it didn't seem to change your feelings for the Cullen's- only reinforce them. 

Finally, you approached Carlisle again. "Can you tell me more? About the Volturi? About the vampire world?" "I can, but might I ask why?" Carlisle answered.  "...do you think I could contact him? My dad?" You didn't realise how big an ask that was until Carlisle talk you through with it. Although he reminded you of his promise. He'd support you with anything you wanted to do with the information he gave you. If you wanted to contact Demetri, then he'd help you do that. 

Within five days, the Cullen's had a visitor. You opened the door to see a boy with shockingly red eyes, dark hair and wearing all black. Around his neck was a good crest, with rubies and in the shape of a 'V'. His eyes stared into yours with an empty gaze, he said nothing. "Hi?" You furrowed your brow, slightly unsettled before Carlisle stepped around you. "Ah, Alec. It's good to see you again. Please, come in." "Carlisle." 'Alec' nodded to Carlisle before stepping inside. You blinked and Alec suddenly sniffed once. "Smells like the other one." He said quietly and walked away from you. You looked to Carlisle sharply in alarm but his look told you not to worry about it. "(Y/N), this is Alec. He's one of the Volturi guards." Carlisle said, putting a hand on your back and guiding you to follow Alec into the living room. "Alec, this is (Y/N). Who you've been expecting to meet." You inhaled sharply as Alec was in front of your face in seconds. Whilst the Cullen's were wary of scaring you, their speed was limited around you. However, Alec didn't seem to care if he scared you or not. 

"You're age development is rather confusing." Alec most certainly didn't talk like others his age. Dared you say it, he was even worse than you. He'd stick out like a beacon. "Last I saw you, you were only a baby. A newborn." Alec said mostly to himself. "You aren't the first to say that." You replied. His eyes moved to yours with a piercing gaze. "So if you're Alec then you're not-" "Your father?" Alec interrupted and tilted his head and a small but very condescending smirk. "No." 

After a moment of silence Alec turned to you. "I've to meet you and then report back to Aro. That's all you need to know." Alec said flatly. Without warning, Alec grabbed your jaw within one hand, tilting your head to the side. "Hearing?" "Slightly higher than human range." Carlisle responded as you blinked. "Sight?" Alec asked. "Above human range." Carlisle responded again. "Smell?" "Human range." "Strength?" Alec enquired. "Above human range but no where as good as a vampire." Carlisle answered. "Speed?" "Above human...we learned that recently." Carlisle looked at you. 

You immediately remembered the time Emmett was chasing you. Your mother never allowed you to fun as fast as you could. The punishment was strict. However since her passing and staying with the Cullen's, you had began to relax and allow yourself to do those things, with the encouragement of the Cullen's. "Diet?" "Human food. We haven't introduced them to a blood diet yet." You shivered at the thought but couldn't help the creeping curiosity. Perhaps that was the vampire in you. "Intelligence?" Alec asked. "Highly." Carlisle smiled at you like a proud parent would. Alec seemed to catch this and stifled the urge to roll his eyes. "Behaviour?" "Well behaved." Carlisle said instantly. "Are they able to control themselves? Emotionally and such?"  "Yes." Carlisle responded. "How much do they know of our kind?" "They're learning." Carlisle retorted. "I see." Alec hummed. "Any gifts?" He asked after a moment of silence. Carlisle shook his head "None we've been made aware of." Alec nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I'll report this back to Aro. We'll be in touch." 

"(Y/N)?" Carlisle peeked into your room with a smile. "I thought you'd like to know the Volturi have contacted us. They'd like to meet you. Demetri included, of course." Your heart pounded. "My dad...wants to meet me?" Carlisle nodded with a warm smile. "It's your decision, if you so wish it. They're more than happy to accommodate you. Demetri is eager to see you again and they're pleased with the information we gave. We'd have to give them a some time to prepare for you. They're awaiting your response." Renesmee grinned at you in glee. You slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'd like to meet them."  Carlisle nodded. "Not a problem, I'll arrange the details with Aro." Just like that, Carlisle turned away. You turned to Renesmee, mostly in shock. She smiled brightly at you. "This is great!" 

Two weeks later, you landed in Italy. Taking a plane yourself was a new experience but your nerves were too busy with the prospect of meeting your father. Outside the airport you were met by Alec, this time with a blonde girl. "Hey Alec." You said and Alec nodded at you. "Hello again, (Y/N). This is my sister, Jane." He gestured to the blonde girl. Both wore stoic expressions that were horrifying. Their hoods were up. Instead of a cloak, they each wore hoodies and their hands were stuffed into the pockets, not a single bit of skin exposed. "Nice to meet you." You said to Jane. "Likewise." She said quietly, with an innocent tone. However their bright red eyes said otherwise. "This way." The two turned towards a black car. "Afton is driving us. He isn't one for conversation, don't take it personally if he ignores you." Alec turned to you. You nodded. "Got it." You paused. "My stuff?" "We've already got it." Alec responded. "We can't afford delay." You nodded. "Thanks." 

A man with black hair rose to a stand with a gasp and a grin of glee. "Ah! You must be our dear (Y/N)! My, how you've grown!" He hurried down the steps are towards you briskly as Alec and his sister moved to stand at the corner of the room. "Finally, I get to put a face to all the wonderful things I've heard about you." He reached out for you and by instinct you took his hand. You though he was going for a handshake but instead he turned your hand, encasing it within his own, his other moving to trap your hand in place as he hunched over slightly. He looked down at your hands before looking up to meet your eyes. "My name is Aro." So this was Aro. One of the three leaders of the Volturi and an old friend of Carlisle's. If anything he was the boss of the whole Volturi coven and guard. "Brothers! Come and see our little hybrid! They won't remember us!" The blonde and dark haired man who remained on their thrones stood up and walked towards you, although much slower and slightly less enthusiastic. All the while you really hoped that nickname wouldn't stick. 

"The resemblance of Demetri...it's quite surprising." Aro said to himself in awe. "Perhaps the vampires have the dominant gene." The blonde responded, sparing Aro a glance who dropped your hand as to watch the exchange. "My name is Caius." The blonde began. "Our sincerest apologies if this is uncomfortable. For us, it has been a blink of an eye. You were only a baby at the time we last saw you." "You were the last of us to hold them, brother!" Aro spoke up. "Indeed." The blonde agreed. 

You were surprised to hear the leaders had held you. With Caius' piercing stare, you were surprised you didn't have nightmare for the rest of your life. "Last but not least, this is Marcus!" Aro grinned gesturing to the dark haired man beside him. "It's a joy to see you again, little one. You have our condolences about your mother." Marcus' voice was move gravely, ad though he hadn't spoken for a while. A pang hit your chest and you nodded. "Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you all." "There will be plenty of time for questions and answers. However I do believe there is a more pressing matter." Aro smiled knowingly. "Indeed." Caius raised an eyebrow. "Jane! Send for Demetri! He has been waiting so long!" Aro announced. "Yes, master." Jane nodded before she was gone in a flash. 

You knew it was him as soon as he entered. His eyes locked on you instantly as he froze. You heard yourself exhale, silence filling the room, only the sound of your breathing. Although you were sure everyone else could hear your racing heartbeat. The blonde stranger slowly moved towards you. Almost as though frightened every step he took would cause you to shatter before him. His eyes were a dark red, wide and unblinking. As though he didn't dare. For you, this was the first meeting but for him...it had been years and each one seemed to pain him. The blonde before you was clearly emotional just by the sight of you. Just as he was a few feet away from you, he spoke. It was almost a whisper. You almost didn't catch it. “Il mio bambino...” You had no clue what that meant but you couldn't find the ability to ask. You couldn't find the ability to speak at all, a lump in your throat. Emotions arose within Demetri quickly. This time, his words louder and directed towards you. "I thought I'd never hear your heartbeat ever again." You looked down at your chest before looking back at up at him. Demetri's hands moved to cover his mouth. "Oh that wonderful sound." You were taken aback at how attached he had been to the sound of your heartbeat. Your heart ached for him. So you did what you thought unthinkable. You moved forward and closed the space, wrapping your arms around him into a hug. He gasped in surprise, uncertain what to do at first. You felt tears build up in your eyes. "I found you." You whispered, mostly to yourself. "Yes, you did." You felt his arms wind around you, holding you to him. “Il mio bambino...” He said again. You held him tighter as you felt a tear run down your face. 

From that moment on, Demetri wanted to know every little thing about you. No detail was dismissed. You realised during that time that Demetri had never heard you talk so naturally he’d want to listen to you talk about anything. He was eager to know every tiny little detail and spent hours finding out, with a sudden interest in everything you had ever done.Although some details about how you lived saddened him, he never explained why. You had speculations why. Your mother spent your whole childhood trying to suppress any part of him within you. 

Whilst caught in a daydream, you felt a hand ruffle your hair. You jumped in surprise looking behind you to see a very amused Felix. "Look sharp, little one. The world is a hungry place.” Demetri rolled his eyes. “Not in here, they couldn’t be safer.” Felix raised an eyebrow. “Even with Alec sitting across from them?” You scoffed, standing up and grabbing your now empty glass. “Yeah, okay.” You said unconvinced. After pouring yourself another glass of water, you turned and reeled back. A black mist, like an tendril hovering inches from your face.  “Alec.” Demetri narrowed his eyes in warning. Alec retracted his mist with a cold expression.  “See?” Felix pursed his lips. "He...he wouldn't." You said shakily. Alec turned his head from his seat, his red eyes boring into yours. "Go on, underestimate me. Entertain me." Your eyes widened in fear. His face was void of emotion but his stare was piercing. Your eyes fell to the floor, visibly backing down from him. "Next time I won't be so forgiving." Alec said coldly. 

Suddenly a hand slammed against the table before Alec making him look up. Demetri stared down at him coldly with a low growl. "I won't tolerate anyone threatening my child, that includes you, Alec. Warn them if you must but threaten them and then the line will be crossed." "You should teach your child to know better then, shouldn't you?" Alec glared up at Demetri. "They haven't been here long enough to know.. but you have." Demetri leaned forward. "You know I tend to leave you and your sister be. So the least you could do is have some patience for (Y/N). I'd hate for you and I to have a problem, Alec." Alec growled in response but seemed to take in his words, leaning back in his chair. "Fine." He said simply. "I'll do my best to be... accommodating." 

You jumped slightly when Demetri peeked into your room, knocking twice. "Are you busy?" You closed your book with a quick shake of your head and a smile. "What's up?" Demetri paused as if not entirely understanding what you mean but continuing nonetheless. "Felix and I have some jobs to do and I would appreciate your help?" You looked surprised by Demetri's response and he smiled in amusement. "It'll be a test of strength too." "A test?" You asked, moving towards him with intrigue. "You'll see." He smirked. "Alright, let me get my shoes." The curiosity had already consumed you and made you unable to refuse the request. He led you down many sets of stairs and corridors. Finally leading you to a room that looked older and more run down than the rest of the castle. 

Felix grinned at you immediately. "Hey, kiddo!" Felix greeted. "What are we doing in here?" You asked, taking a look around the room. "Well, this room will be redecorated as well as the one next door. We've got to break down all the furniture...and some of these walls." "Alright but...there's no tools here." Felix snorted. "What?" You asked. "You're adorable." Felix smirked in response before pulling out a drawer. Like it was nothing he pulled the backing of the drawer off, tossing it behind him, then the sides and finally ripping off the handle. Your jaw dropped at the sight before you turned to your father. He smiled at you. "Over the past couple of days, ive been noticing that you could be stronger than originally thought. So, let's test that theory." 

The two led you to a coffee table before tipping it. "Try to pull a leg off. It's an old table, so it won't be too complicated. You just have to pull." Demetri crouched down beside you. Hesitantly you wrapped your hand around a table leg and tugged. Nothing. "Come on, you can do better than that kid." Felix grinned, crouching down too. "You're holding back in case you break it." Demetri added. "You want to break it so you don't need to be careful." "Think of something that annoys you, really aggravates you- got it?" Felix asked. You nodded enthusiastically. 

You thought about all the times your mother lectured you for questioning her. The secrets that were life changing that she kept from you. A father you were robbed off. You pulled and with a crack it came off with ease. Your jaw dropped, instinctively waiting for a lecture that never came. "Nice one, kid!" Felix grinned. Demetri smiled at you, ruffling your hair as he, along with Felix stood up. You had never known how much fun destruction could be. You felt a rush run through you, suddenly very eager to do it again. The two vampires smiled as you clearly began to enjoy yourself. You spun driving your fist into some wooden railing above a half wall. All came off with ease and you made a noise of accomplishment before the force of your spin caused you to fall to the floor. Next that was heard as Felix's booming laugh before he punched chunks out of the brick in the wall. As you all continued, you grew more and more surprised that it didn't hurt very much and you didn't even have a scratch on you. 

You were having such a good time you didn't even hear the twins approaching. "Watch and learn, you two." Felix gestured to you. "You're more than able to help after all." Jane huffed. "Why would we ever concern ourselves with such things?" "Entertainment. Again, look at (Y/N)." They did exactly that to see you have the time of your life with Demetri, ripping a cabinet open. 

“Are you guys sure about this?” You asked, looking into the mug. After a moment of silence you quickly apologised. “Sorry! I...I ask a lot of questions.” You said hurriedly. Heidi frowned slightly. “Listen honey, I’m not going to give you trouble because you ask questions. That’s a good thing, take it from me. Actually, i’ll tell you something i’ve lived by all these years, even when i was human. Only ever ask questions. It gets others into trouble. Never give answers. It gets you into trouble." Heidi sent you a reassuring smile. “Now to answer that question. It’s absolutely fine.”  “If we wanted to kill you, there is easier ways.” Alec rolled his eyes. “You need to become accustomed to a blood diet. We can’t always give you a  regular human diet.” 

Slowly, you put the mug to your lips, taking a reluctant sip. Your first instinct was to pull back sharply, your brain reminding you profusely that it was blood in a mug. Although you weren’t repulsed.  “It should be an easier compromise for you that it’s warmed up.” Heidi smiled. “It was a blood bag but introducing you to blood and it’s cold...is a little cruel. Especially since we don’t drink it cold.” There was a slight gleam in her eye. You took another, longer sip.  “It doesn’t taste bad.” You sounded slightly surprised.  “Of course not, you’re half vampire.” Alec said. 

Once you had finished it, Alec held his hand out. “Took you long enough.”  “Alec!” Heidi tutted. Alec scowled at Heidi in response. Suddenly, you had an idea. You didn’t let go as Alec took it from you. Alec sighed, sending you a look of annoyance. "Let go of it. Now." You smiled at him. "You're pushing your luck, little one." Alec warned you with a clenched jaw. "You could easily take it from me." You replied, still holding onto the handle of the mug. "Does blood just make you more annoying? Hand it over!" Alec snapped. "Again, you've proven many times you could just take it from me." For a moment, Alec's anger was visible and he pulled the mug from you...only to find the mug now in two separate pieces. You still had the handle whilst Alec had the rest of it. Alec sighed, sending you another look of annoyance. "Now we're even for you threatening me, truce?" You asked lightly. Alec's instinct was to yell no, throw you to the ground and break every bone in your body. "Fine." He said through a clenched jaw. 

"Dare I say it..." Felix mused and he and Demetri walked down the corridor. "...I think Alec actually likes them. They test his patience every couple of minutes but I've never seen him be so gentle." Demetri thought for a moment. "Or it could have been my warning." The two cracked a knowing smile at one another, both very aware that the latter just simply wasn't the case. "I have to agree with you friend. I was wary at first but a thought occurred to me." Felix raised an eyebrow at Demetri, pressing for his friend to continue. "Jane and Alec are the same age physically as (Y/N). Perhaps it'd do them good." Felix thought for a moment before agreeing with a nod. "I didn't think of it that way. I suppose it would be the beneficial for the twins. Jane may take some time though." Demetri hummed. "Well we do have lots of it, friend." 

After some time, you began to think about your mother, now that you were experiencing the Volturi first hand, it made you wonder about her. More specifically, her feelings on you. The quiet always did bring nagging and often negative thoughts. Alec noticed almost immediately something was wrong. What made the matter worse was that he actually cared. He hated that but somehow he hated seeing you upset more. Your back was to him yet he knew you were crying. You had curled into yourself slightly and were trying very hard not to let your crying be heard. "Are you alright?" Alec asked quietly, moving to your side but refusing to look at you. You jumped slightly, quickly wiping your eyes. "Yeah!" You said, frantically nodding. "I'm fine." Alec tensely turned his head to look at you. "What's wrong?" Under his stare, one thing was simple. You couldn't lie to him. "I was just thinking about..." You trailed off, finding it difficult to really sum up what you were thinking. “I had so many questions and secrets about my life that I didn't want to notice the differences. I couldn't ignore them when she was gone...my mum.” Alec was quiet as you continued. "I can't help but think...she was scared of me. Or maybe that secretly, deep down she hated me." Alec thought for a moment. "Your mother was annoying." He said simply. Your eyes shifted to his. "I didn't like her. At all. I was very disgruntled to discover she was pregnant. I wanted to discover she wasn't compatible and be killed. Clearly I didn't get my way." Alec cast you a glance, noting your look of horror. "We weren't allowed near you." Alec continued. "When you were born my sister and I were the last people on this earth she'd ever let near you. She was hysterical when you were given to Jane who delivered you to the leaders. I won't lie, I enjoyed the misery it caused her." Alec paused, as though uncomfortable. "However, I think it's quite clear that if your mother ever hated you, she wouldn't have clung to you as she did. She wouldn't have risked her life to take you away. The way I see it is the exact opposite. I think she loved you more than anything in the world. She may have hated herself for that deep down. Some kind of moral dilemma I suppose, wanting to love and protect a child that is half vampire. She experienced our way of life and decided she didn't want it for you. So even if it killed her, she'd make sure she protected you from our world.” "What if she gave me up? Put me up for adoption or abandoned me?" "You'd have been back here immediately." Alec said flatly. "For the purpose of our laws and that Demetri wouldn't have had it. He let you go knowing you'd be with your mother and that this castle, isn't the best for raising a child. So if you had a better life, even if it wasn't with him, he'd make that sacrifice for you. In all honesty though, it was only a matter of time before you were apart of our world anyway. It's half of your DNA, you can't hide that for long." You couldn't help but crack a smile. "No wonder you hate me, you couldn't stand my mother." Alec paused. "i don't hate you." You looked at him in surprise. "I actually like you but you can be so damn annoying." You laughed. 

 "You believe the child is gifted?" Caius said as he turned to Aro. "Indeed." Aro hummed. "It's quite fascinating. Although I cannot be certain." "Do you think it would be useful to us?" Caius pressed and Aro hummed in thought. "Upon occasion." "What might it be?" Marcus asked. "I believe (Y/N) can see what's happening in current times with people they know. I believe I caught a glimpse of it in action. They saw Carlisle before meeting him but didn't understand." "From what you have told us, that seems logical considering they didn't know their true nature." Caius replied and Aro nodded. "Our focus right now is to keep them comfortable whilst transitioning them to a blood diet. Then we will investigate this potential gift." Aro decided. 

You hadn’t been able to find anyone. As it seemed, you found them all in a room. You staggered back in shock. Blood pooled in one side of the room that looked almost identical to the throne room. However this one, wasn’t marble. It was stone, there was a wooden table and wooden chairs and in the middle of the room was a large, bulky grate. You noticed the three leaders were missing, yet the higher guard were not. All of them were present.  “I was looking for you.” You said to Demetri but warily couldn’t take your eyes from the large puddle.  “I see, well allow us to clean this up and i’ll be right with you.” You began to shake slightly remembering that the Volturi didn’t feed from blood bags, not according to Carlisle’s story anyway. As you stood before the grate. You froze.  “(Y/N)?” Demetri called out but you didn’t respond. You looked in horror at the large grate, slightly trembling. Everything in your body told you to look away but you couldn't...and then your eyes focused on a hand. 

You screamed, staggering back in horror. Demetri was quick to catch you in a vice grip. He was talking to you, but you couldn't hear him. Tears falling from your eyes. In that moment, you knew. This is what your mother was trying to protect you from. You remembered Carlisle's story and it disturbed you, making you hysterical. You tried to get out of Demetri's hold but he wouldn't let you. All the while, the story looped in your head. Your mother looked at the same grate. She watched as her friends lifeless bodies were dropped inside. At the end of it all, not only did her friends never come home, neither did she. She could never tell the tale, even though it haunted her everyday. You could feel the fear that she without a doubt felt back then. 

You continued to scream, shaking violently in Demetri's arms. "Demetri, move." Alec said, finally moving forward with his arms out stretched. Demetri stepped back as the mist glided up to you. Your screaming and tears began die down. You began to lean and Demetri was quick to catch you lowering you to the ground. Demetri wiped your tears before looking at Alec who moved in front of you. "You can hear us now, I'll give you the rest of your senses back in a moment. Right now, you need to listen. You're alright. No one is going to hurt you but you need to calm down. I'll give you feeling back in one hand. Move your fingers if you understand." Alec's eyes dropped to your left hand. Your fingers twitched. "Good. Now remember, be calm. Nothing is going to hurt you." You began to blink erratically, swallowing hard. Before your eyes could wander beyond Alec and back to the grate, Demetri turned your head away. "Don't look." You met your father's gaze. Demetri looked heartbroken, apologetic. "I need to be alone right now." You said quietly. 

It felt like you had gotten the best if both worlds. Your mother told you nothing, wanting to protect you. It had seemed wrong at the time but now that you had the alternative, you missed it. Your father was honest with you. Perhaps a little too honest. The truth was no longer a sought ally but instead something you wanted to run from. The truth always seemed like a bright light to you. Now that you knew the truth for what it was. It was dark. 

You didn’t even go to your room, you rushed to the top floor of the castle, a place still and quiet and judging by the layer of dust on everything. It was abandoned, as many old places were. It seemed even areas of the castle weren’t safe from being forgotten by the vampires. You hunched over, swallowing back another wave of tears, trying to focus on the wooden floorboards underneath you. However it was no use, the tears constantly fighting they’re way out.  Suddenly in the corner of your eye, you saw someone. 

You turned to look at them and froze in shock. “Have I finally gone insane?” You trembled slightly, staring unblinkingly at your mother who mirrored your sitting position beside you.  “This place makes people go insane. Believe me.” She glanced around the dark room, only illuminated by moonlight. She noted your tremble and exhaled. “No. You’re afraid and that’s a very sane thing.” “Was this a mistake?” You asked her.  “A mistake? I don’t think so. Beyond the fear, lies the truth. You know everything now, there’s nothing left to protect you from.” Your mother responded.  “But you had reason to.”  “Yes...mine. My reasons. Truth be told, i knew nothing would happen to you here. Demetri loved you more than anything in the world. Protect you maybe, but I knew him well. I knew that me taking you away would be one of the most painful things to him. So I took you. I got my own revenge in the end.”  “Fighting fire with fire?” You whispered.  “It’s what this place drives you to do. Kill or be killed, hunt or be hunted. Adapt...or fall. This place...it saves them you know, it’s their sanctuary.” You turned to look at her and she continued. “None of them would last five minutes out there, they hide because they have to. The witch twins are a prime example. They could never survive modern life. So they hide and mock us for being expendable, never willing to admit the truth that in the end, we’re all leaving them behind. However there is something important in knowing that, (Y/N)- in knowing all of this, knowing why i did what i did.” A tear ran down your face but your mother continued.  “It isn’t your story, it didn't happen to you. They’ve treated you well. You did not live my story and so you won’t hold it against them. I’ve already done that for the both of us.” Your mother said firmly. “Before you died, you were adamant I never discovered any of this.” You began but never continued. Although your mother seemed to catch on. “You know me better than that.” Your mother chastised. “I had to let you go, it wasn’t fair to you. At the very end, I knew i had to let you go and you had to go back to him. If you taught me anything, it was that terrible beginnings don’t always have to be terrible endings. So if it was best for you, i’d give him back the one he loved the most.” Another tear ran down your cheek, before the tear hit the floor, your mother was gone. 

Ghosts were a lovely thought but you couldn't say you believed in them. You knew you needed your mother in that time and so you created her in your mind and willed her to speak the words you were so desperate to hear. In that moment you felt at peace, whether you had fooled yourself into believing what you wanted. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. It was enough for you to pull yourself to a stand and wipe your eyes. 

You stepped down the last step, meeting eyes with Alec. “There you are. You had some of us worried.” Your gaze travelled to his. He paused, his eyes canning your face. “Are you alright?”  “Yes.” You whispered.  “(Y/N), there is a lot of frightening things in this world but just as there is the ugly, there is the beautiful and good things in this world. When you live through what i have, what i have survived, believe me when i say, those terrible things are nothing in comparison, you’d go through a million of those terrible things because that one good thing is so rewarding. You have a father that loves you and will always be here for you. If you want it to be...this is your home.” Alec’s words resonated with you. Slowly, what he was trying to say made sense. You remembered the memories you had already made with your father, with Alec, with the Cullens, Renesmee ... your mother. None of them were perfect. Most had to do terrible things to survive. Yet that didn’t take away from any tender moment. So you let it go. Just as your mother had told you upstairs, whether she was real or your imagination. 

“Alec, i’d like to thank you.” You began.  “For what?” Alec asked.  “For your time, your effort. Angry or not, you’ve been there every step of the way. So thank you, you saved me. This is home.” Alec smirked slightly. “I know what it’s like.” 

Demetri looked into the room, find you fast asleep with your book still in hand and open at the page, laying on your stomach. Your hands held it in place but it was clear to see you were in a very deep sleep. Demetri noted you were still in comfortable clothing. He quietly moved towards you before gently lifting your hand and sliding the book out from your other hand. He marked the place before putting it on your bedside table. Carefully he lifted one of your legs ever so slightly to move in under the covers before doing the same with the other. Demetri pulled the covers over you, up to your shoulders. He didn't want you to get cold. He was pleased with himself that he didn't wake you. You didn't even stir. He tucked you in ever so slightly. Whilst he knew that wasn't necessary, he couldn’t help himself. He'd missed so much of you growing up, this was the first time he'd ever tucked you in since you were days old. He turned off the lamp beside your bed before leaning down to kiss your head. Just as silently, he left, leaving the door open just a crack. He had noticed you preferred the door like that most times. 

[lapis-arts]

The Knife of Amphibia

Chapter 1: Dishonored

Summary: Riots are getting more chaotic by the second in Newtopia, thanks to a deadly plague breaking the city apart. King Andrias had sent his most loyal subordinates to ask for help all around Amphibia to bring aid to his people. What happens next, will change the course of everyone's lives involved, and all fingers are pointed towards Anne for it.

Fandom: Amphibia

Features: Assassin AU, Aged Up Calamity Trio, also Marcy is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, blood, and a lot of murder.

Word Count: 1,877 Words

____________

Within the walls of Newtopia, another mass riot broke out. Amphibians and humans alike gathering into mobs, armed with weapons and torches, marching towards the castle in an attempt to break in and overthrow the king for his supposed neglect to care for his citizens. Why neglect? The citizens in Newtopia were falling deathly ill from a new plague no one has ever seen before, only adding more fuel to the fire as the sick were dying and the king sat there and did nothing to aid his people.

The Newtopian Royal Guards answered promptly to the incoming riot and blocked every entrance of the castle from the angry mob, their numbers eventually pushing the mob back slowly.

King Andrias looked down at the scene from his balcony. He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his temples, the giant newt retreating into his throne. He had sent out his best loyalists, his trusted Knight; Anne Boonchuy, and Royal Spymaster; Marcy Wu, in an diplomatic mission in order to ask for help around the continent regarding the outbreak. He would've sent any other official in his castle, but this was a dire emergency no ordinary loyalist would embark on.

That was nearly two weeks ago, and he hoped they come back with great news. The longer the gates to the city were closed, the more it was going to tear itself apart.

____________

"Steady now!" A newt soldier shouted above as a ship lowered a small boat they were on into the ocean, containing him, a driver, and most importantly, Anne and Marcy.

The two humans sighed in relief to see the Newtopia docks once more. The most they could hope for is that the city was still there in one piece.

"We did the best we could, Marcy." Anne started, placing her hand on the other's shoulder, their expression still saddened from the failure of their long and exhausting journey.

"I know. It's just.. Why would they refuse? People are dying, Anne.. Our people are dying. The plague is spreading quickly and they're not willing to let their greatest minds come together to find a cure!?" Marcy spat, getting more frustrated the more they spoke of it.

"Marcy, I know it's harsh and unfair." Anne intervened, trying to level the situation with them.

"I'm sure they had their best interest in mind. Wanting to keep them safe from further spread." She reasoned, giving Marcy a hug for comfort, which they gladly took.

Soon enough, the boat had reached the docks, grabbing their bags and headed towards the castle to give King Andrias the bad news in the form of a scroll. The humans glanced at the city's horizon, seeing a few clouds of smoke and caught the scent of burning and the sound of screaming the more they walked. They both tried their best to ignore it, entering through the back entrance of the castle and made their way to find Andrias. It became quite the daunting task to ignore the outside, hearing people scream louder and louder.

Some from rage, others out of pain.

Anne was the first to look out of a nearby window, seeing the angry mob, filling her in on how much pain the city has gone through in the span of two weeks.

"This is just awful.." Anne said, Marcy looking out the window shortly after, shocked as much as Anne was. "I understand the anger and agony of these people, but this is just way out of hand." The young knight expressed.

"Riots are the voices of the unheard, Anne.." Marcy said, pulling out their spyglass to get a better look. From the looks of it, both soldiers and civilians were hurt, but it hasn't escalated to bloodshed just yet.

The humans tried to shrug it off once more and return to their duty. A swift turn to a corridor later, they both bumped into Lady Olivia and General Yunnan, who was surprised to see the humans in such short notice.

"Oh! A pleasant surprise to see you two have returned." Olivia said, bowing down to them in respect.

"Ah yes. A few days earlier, just as usual." Yunnan commented, rolling her eyes at them. Olivia cleared her throat and straightened her position to continue speaking.

"King Andrias hopes you bring great news?" She asked, the two humans giving her very upsetting reactions.

"It's not good.. If we can speak to him soon, that would be appreciated." Anne said, Olivia nodded and swiftly led the two to the King, who was at his garden, tending to his plants while his guards stood by. Yunnan stood aside as Olivia entered the garden with the humans behind her, announcing their presence.

"King Andrias. I announce that Anne and Marcy have returned from their mission." She said, the king turning around to see them. He dawned a smile upon his face as he was delighted to see the humans again.

"Oh, a marvelous day it is!" He exclaimed. He turned back to Olivia and signaled her. "Lady Olivia, mind if I speak to them in private?" He asked, Olivia accepting his request and gathered all his guards out of the garden, leaving the three of them completely alone.

"So... How was your trip? What news do you bring?" He asked, Anne nervously rubbing the back of her head while Marcy sighed and handed Andrias the scroll. His expression fell as he noticed their demeanors and hesitantly opened the scroll. Sadness fell upon his face as he read on the formal request denial and that other nations will barricade the outskirts of Newtopia to further keep the plague contained.

"No.. This can't be..." He turned to the city's horizon, seeing chaos unfold, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts.

"We won't give up just yet.. There's still a chance to help our people." Andrias said, Anne and Marcy looking up at him, feeling a bit more hopeful.

"You're right. Things look grim right now, but we'll figure this out." Anne agreed, walking up to Andrias to place her hand on his arm for reassurance.

"If the others refuse help, so be it. We still have our wits here in the city." Marcy added along, smiling with confidence.

All of a sudden, the atmosphere changed rather quickly. Marcy detected it as soon as it occured, their gut not even trusting the flow of the wind. It was as of they were all being watched. They quickly turned around and spotted some figures running on top of the castle roof. They got their wrist bow loaded and dagger ready and got into a defensive stand.

"Sir, intruders on the roof!" They shouted, Anne quickly drawing out her sword and got into position promptly.

"Intruders? Where are the guards!?" Andrias asked. While he had his best protectors with them, they were severely outnumbered. However he was not one to cower from a fight and drew his own sword out.

Once they got a good sight on the intruders, the realized it was a gang of toads. The toads suddenly vanished and appeared right before Anne's and Marcy's faces, striking their swords at the humans. Anne quickly blocked with her own sword and kicked the toad in the stomach, slashing and injured him as he vanished into thin air while another pair of toads came towards her side, Anne having no problem taking them down with a few slashes.

Meanwhile, Marcy was quick to dodge their attacker and sliced the toad in the back of the neck, turning towards another toad charging towards them and shot a crossbow bolt between their eyes in one smooth motion, instantly killing them.

It was then another attack got them from behind, Andrias getting a few strikes at his arm, yet he fended them off with no problem from his size alone, slicing the intruders in half with the ease of his giant sword.

Once the grizzly fight seemed to be done, the three dropped their guard, assuming the ambush to be over.

"Anne, Marcy, I'm grateful that you two were here to-" Andrias was suddenly interrupted by a dark magical force, keeping him from moving. The humans looked up to see another gang of toads, using their black magic to keep Andrias down.

At the same time another toad teleported behind Marcy and pulled them back.

"Anne! Help!-" their mouth was quickly covered by the strong toad, sedating them with a dart before teleporting away, taking the human with them.

"Marcy!!" Anne did her best to move quickly to save her, but she was too late. Marcy was gone and now she was getting dragged back from the forces of dark magic. Anne was held up in the air, unable to break free, only helplessly looked down to see Andrias being forced to kneel down under the magic.

Then, as if they couldn't be anymore surprised, a human appeared in front of them, in front of Andrias. However she looked very familiar...

Could this be the infamous assassin Anne has heard so much about? She tried with every fiber of her being to break free from the magic, but it was no use as the red clad, blonde assassin, charged towards the king and ferociously sunk her blade into King Andrias' neck and down into his torso, hearing him cry out in pain.

"NO!!!" Anne screamed, struggling for the life of her, but it was all in vain.

The assassin twisted the blade for good measure and yanked it out with some resistance, blood splattering everywhere. The toads finally let them go, the blonde just giving Anne a evil, smug grin as she and her toad gang teleported away, vanishing into thin air once again, leaving the two alone.

Anne was weak, as if the dark magic drained all of her strength. She mustered up whatever energy she had to crawl towards Andrias, the king now laying in a pool of his own blood.

"My King..." Anne gasped as she reached him, turning him over to face her as he took his in last breaths.

"Anne.. My time is up.. It's not over just yet..." He gasped, coughing out blood.

"Find Marcy... Take care of the city.. I believe in you.." After that, the king fell limp, tears falling down Anne's cheeks and onto Andrias' corpse.

The human heard the rapid footsteps coming towards them, relieved to see Lady Olivia had returned with General Yunnan by her side, along with a few soldiers. All of them were shocked by the scene, General Yunnan growled and unsheathed her hidden blades, quick to judge the human.

"What happened here!? What have you done to the King!" She yelled, the guards raising their spears and pointed at Anne.

"And where is Marcy?" Olivia asked, Anne attempted to speak up, but had no energy left to explain what happened to them.

"Yunnan, please let her rest and explain herself! It seems like an ambush occurred." Olivia pleaded, the general ignoring her and took matters into her own hands.

"She'll have to explain herself while locked away then. Guards! Arrest her." Yunnan ordered, one of the soldiers walked up to Anne and smacked the human with the hilt of his weapon, knocking her out cold.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Omertà👄4

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (sexual intercourse); tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: You guys are awesome. Just thought you should know! Thanks for reading and following along. :D I am always so thankful for everything y’all do.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Aside from the colour, you were not a fan of the dress. The black number was little much for you; the long sleeves couldn’t make up for the length of the skirt or the strappy back. You were still unaccustomed to your new wardrobe and you doubted you ever would be. When you arrived that morning at The Attic, you’d felt like an idiot. 

After noon, you excused yourself if only to escape Loki for an hour. He hadn’t failed to remind you of the day’s meeting. Over a week and a half since the last. Just as long spent in dread. It was bad enough facing Loki each day but another to know you’d be book-ended between him and Bucky.

You went to a restaurant not far from the shop. You passed it now and then but never thought of stepping inside the ultra sleek bar. You did that day; a reluctant retreat. You sat by the window and ordered an organic juice and a salad. 

You rarely ate anything more than microwaves dinners and non-perishables. You often found yourself forgetting to stop and eat when you were at work and you gave little thought to what awaited you after.

You poked at the baby spinach and glanced out the window. The strawberry juice was a little too sweet and made your jaw twitch. You looked back to your bowl as you tried to hide your recognition. The man across the street; you’d seen him before.

It would be easy enough to shrug off his brief glance as coincidence as he walked casually along the pavement, but you hadn’t missed him as you emerged from The Attic. Or a few days back on your way home. His golden hair shone above his chiseled jaw and his bright eyes made him a beacon on the streets. He was following you and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

You left the last few leaves in the bottom of the bowl to drown in dressing. You took your last sip from the glass and folded the bills in the little leather folder. You stood and nodded at your waitress on your way out. The blond man was gone. For now.

You returned to the shop and slipped into the office. Loki wasn’t there and you were thankful. You sat and pulled out your phone. You pulled down the skirt which had a tendency to slip to your thigh. 

As you wiggled in your chair, the door opened and Loki appeared. He didn’t miss the little shimmy and smiled as he neared your desk. His eyes sparkled at you as his fingers rubbed along the edge of the wood.

“We should go soon.” He said. “But we should talk first.”

“Right,” You kept your phone propped up but spared him a brief peek.

“First, listen,” He reached over and tapped your phone. “Important. I tell you to do something, you do it. No back talk. It would be as bad for you as for me should you choose to undermine me in the presence of those men.”

You nodded and lowered your phone. You looked at him and squished your lips together.

“Play along. I know you’re not stupid so I know you can play your part well.” He grinned. “This man is simple; even you can rile him.”

You shook your head and swayed your leg as you crossed your arms.

“Is that all?” You asked.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you of what this world means; of the consequences of such repugnance.” He frowned. “Remember your father, perhaps that will keep you in line.”

“Perhaps,” You sneered.

“Well,” He drew away. “I’d rather this over with. I am not a fan of these places. Sad, really.”

You stood and tucked your phone in your purse. You slung it on your shoulder and sighed.

“Well, at least we can agree on expedience,” You said.

👄

The She-Wolf looked grim in the daylight. The neon sign flashed although the flicker was hard to notice so early. You followed Loki to the doors but he swiftly sidestepped a patron stumbling out. You watched the man, already drunk, as he wobbled away. 

You swallowed your discomfort and entered as Loki opened the door for you, the bouncers eyed both of you. He was greeted by a woman in a crop top and booty shorts. He looked at her as if she were a leper.

“Laufeyson for Barnes,” He announced. “Is there a man who I should--”

“Over here,” She interrupted him and his brows drew together. “Just by Tiffani.”

Loki hesitated but followed, his arm curled around you as he swept you along with him. There were only two stages in use and the bar was almost empty. Still the music buzzed and the dark room was swathed with coloured arcs of light. You sat along the half-moon stage as the woman offered you drinks. 

Loki sniffed as he peered around and refused. You thanked her but forewent the offer as well. Loki sat back and draped his arm behind you. He looked over at you and you didn’t miss his gaze as his hand flitted down to your dress. His hand snaked over and he caressed your leg just beneath the hem.

“Well…” He kept his voice low. “I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Stop,” You grabbed his hand.

“Stop? Ah, you know, I never expected to share tastes with Barnes but I might see a little of what he does.” He purred. “This might be more fun than I expected.”

“Loki,” You hissed as he flipped his hand and twisted yours back. “Enough.”

“We should’ve taken our time back at the office.” He slithered.

“I mean it.” You wrestled with him. “It’s not funny.”

“I am not joking, darling,” He rolled his R coyly. “And seeing as…” His eyes went to the woman spinning up on the pole. “He has such low standards… you’ve made this pleasantly easy.”

He shook you away and pushed his hand between your knees. He gripped your leg as he took a breath. He cleared his throat and rescinded his touch as he stood. Bucky appeared from a doorway along the back of the club and you rose too. He was flanked by two other men and they followed him to the stage as he smirked at you. He barely acknowledged Loki as he offered you his hand.

“Sweetheart,” He looked you up and down. “Mmm, you look wonderful.”

You thanked him softly and stiffened as you shook his hand.

“Loki,” He released you and extended his hand to the other man. “Early. As always.”

“We take our time seriously in Manhattan,” Loki gripped Bucky’s hand firmly. “It is, as they say, money.”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky withdrew and sat. His men stayed behind him, like statues. 

Bucky leaned his elbow on the table that lined the stage and gazed up at the now topless Tiffani as she hung upside down from the pole. He smirked and his eyes slowly fell to you.

“So, you thirsty?” He asked.

“It’s early,” Loki answered for you.

“Not that early,” Bucky insisted as he raised his hand. “What do you like? You seem like a scotch man.” 

His eyes never left you as the woman who greeted you returned. 

“Or whiskey,” Loki replied, annoyed that he was all but being ignored.

“And the lady?” He wondered. “Champagne?”

“That’s a bit much,” You sat straight. 

“Rose? Chardonnay?” He continued. “I have a rather extensive cellar. I could let you have a look if you wish.”

“We didn’t come here to peruse your wine collection,” Loki intoned.

“No,” Bucky slapped his hand on the table. “You came here to give me my money and to accept my hospitality. It would be rude to bite the hand, wouldn’t it?”

Loki’s jaw jutted out in anger and he nodded, a snarl slowly left his nostrils.

“Gin,” You said sternly. “Gin is fine.”

“Gin,” Bucky repeated as his expression softened and he turned to the waitress. “Scotch for my friend,” He waved to Loki, “And two gins. Top shelf.”

“Yes, sir,” She recited and her smile betrayed her attraction for the man. Bucky, despite his person, could not be called hideous.

“You know,” Bucky turned to Loki, his eyes strayed to you for a moment, “I was thinking of this new arrangement and while I appreciate that your men are working so hard, I would prefer a few of mine help out.”

“Help out?” Loki squinted.

“Allies, you said.” Bucky leaned back and pulled his thin lapels straight. “So we should work together. If I sent a few of my hands down to our warehouses, they wouldn’t be hassled, would they? Especially not if they were helping with our business.”

Loki swallowed. It was one thing to split up the take, but another to allow others onto territory he still felt was rightfully his. The compromise was temporary in his mind; a means to an end. A patient plot.

“Surely not,” Loki forced out. “I would make sure of it.”

“Very good,” Bucky smiled as he watched the waitress set down the drinks. “I will send them down tomorrow then.”

“I’ll make sure mine are aware,” Loki inhaled deeply and took his scotch. His other hand wandered over your thigh and he rested it there as he sipped. 

You grabbed your drink and swigged down a bitter mouthful before you could chide him. Bucky didn’t miss the movement and his eyes followed Loki’s arm to his hand. Loki’s long fingers squeezed and you winced. Bucky took a drink as he looked you over.

“I’ll take my money now,” He gritted out. “Drinks are on me though.”

Loki set down his glass and dragged his hand from your leg. He shifted your skirt as he did, enough to expose your upper thigh. You fixed it and Bucky hummed. You looked up as he shifted in his chair. He was focused on your lap and you pushed your legs together tightly.

Loki reached into his jacket and pulled out the bundle. He planted it on the table before Bucky who quickly took it and began to count. When he finished, he smacked the stack on his palm and then handed it over to one of his men.

“You like her?” Bucky pointed to Tiffani and Loki frowned. “The night shift is better. The girls are… skilled.”

“I’ve never been one for dancers. Or escorts.” Loki sneered.

“My girls are clean and I’d not call them escorts, they’re good company. Especially for men like us.”

“Men like us?” Loki huffed. “I don’t pay for my company.”

“So you must be lonely,” Bucky countered.

A tense silence followed as they stared each other down. Loki chuckled and finished his drink.

“Not that lonely,” He stretched his arm behind you. 

Bucky scratched his chin and nodded.

“It’s not always money you pay with,” Bucky mused. “Is it?”

“I have been told I am charming,” Loki’s fingers tickled your shoulder. “I’ve never wanted for much.”

“Is it charm or hot air?” Bucky challenged. “You talk a lot.”

“I won’t deny that,” Loki smirked. “But you know, a sharp tongue is truly a gift. Isn’t it, darling?”

Both men looked at you. You tapped your fingernail on your glass and chewed on your irritation.

“Truly,” You answered rigidly. “It must be.”

You lifted your glass and drank. Bucky watched you intently. Loki stared at him until he looked away and their gaze met. There was a moment of understanding; an unspoken challenge. You felt as if you were suffocating in your dress. You wanted another drink desperately.

👄

You left shortly after the pissing contest. You were glad to be away and didn’t stick around much longer at the antique shop. Loki was agitated and barely noticed when you left. Despite his well-honed veneer, he hadn’t been able to withhold his chagrin once free of the strip club.

The next day, you sensed little difference. He was silent, grumbly. He sat behind his desk and made the occasional call. He was impatient and bossy. He had Bucky’s men in his warehouses and he was talking his own down from igniting another war. Each call ended with a scribbled list of numbers for you to add to your ledger.

Your work was disturbed in the late afternoon. You heard Lopez in the showroom, his voice panicked as he neared the other side of the door. There was no knock as the squat man’s voice was left unmatched. The door opened as Loki reached under his jacket. He gripped his gun and watched the man who entered.

“No need for that,” The blonde man said coolly. He held a box and smiled as he looked around the room. “Just got a delivery.”

Loki scowled and reluctantly lowered his hand. “Delivery? Did Barnes forget something?”

The blonde’s jaw squared as he turned to you. He placed the box atop your open ledger. 

“Boss sends his regards,” He smirked. You said nothing as he nodded and glanced at Loki one last time. “To both of you.”

As quickly as he’d come, he was gone. You watched him go and frowned as Loki bid Lopez shut the door. You were silent as you shook your head at the box.

“Who was--”

“Rogers.” Loki snorted. “Barnes’ little lap dog.”

You were quiet. You wouldn’t let on that Barnes’ man had been tailing you. You didn’t think that would help with either of them. Or you.

“Well, open it.” He demanded.

You glanced at him and he lifted a brow. His eyes pierced you as you slid the box closer and let out a long breath. You rubbed your thumbs over the cardboard and carefully shook the lid free. The box fell to the desk and you set aside the top. You brushed aside the tissue paper and gaped at the swath of sparkling diamonds.

Loki sighed and tapped his fingers as he leaned forward.

“Do go on,” He said dryly.

You cringed and reached into the box. You hooked your fingers under the diamonds and lifted the glittering pair of panties. Your eyes met Loki’s over the top and his face paled with anger. Fuck.

[wreckofawriter]

We'll Leave This All Behind

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: mentions blood, kinda angsty (dw; happy ending)

Summary: You were raised the same as Draco you go through the same hell, maybe it wont be so lonely together

A/n: Me: I'm so sick of Harry Potter Me 10secs later: I'm in love with Draco Malfoy again. I got feels and wrote this in 2 hours, totally unplanned. I hope you guys like it! Btw pls request AUs, they are so much fun to write.

Link for AU requests

    You could feel yourself falling apart, it was agonizingly slow like each day a layer of who you were was stripped away. You never quite realized how alone you really were until you got to Hogwarts. You knew people, but you had no friends. Your parents didn’t love you, they loved your accomplishments. When you got to the warmly lit grand hall and looked around at all the smiling faces it made you realize that not everyone felt like you. It made you realize that some people were actually genuinely happy, not smiling for a camera but smiling because they wanted to. Because they felt like it. Knowing that made you hate them that much more. 

    Your first year in Hogwarts was spent alone. You sat alone, you ate alone, you studied alone, you were alone. You didn’t know how to change that and you weren’t quite sure if you wanted to. When you were alone you knew what was going on. You knew what was going to happen, there were no surprises, no skeletons in a closet that you didn’t know about. Your own was filled to the ceiling but you weren’t scared of them anymore. You were taught that if you were scared you would die. 

    You met Draco Malfoy through some ball when you were five years old, you still didn’t smile much, even then. Draco had called you evil and ran from you. You hadn’t been hurt by it, kids did it most of the time. You had made friends with a young girl once but your mother had seen you and locked you in your closet for three days for playing with a muggle. You didn’t try anymore. 

    Draco was dreadfully scared of you as a child. He had heard his mother and father compare their methods of a discipline to your parents to reassure him of their own kindness. The things he heard were done to you were like nothing he had ever heard of before. They were inhuman. 

    When he saw you at Hogwarts he had been sure you would be evil and he was horrified,  not that he would ever admit it. But by his fourth year, he began to see you as less of a demon and more of an ally. He knew what you were going to do as you got older and he knew he would have to do the same no matter how much he tried to push it to the back of mind. 

In fifth-year things got worse for Draco Malfoy. He couldn’t push things away anymore. He was facing them soon and he was scared. So dreadfully scared. That’s when he began to see you as a friend. 

    Draco approached you one night looking unsure, almost fearful of you despite the inches he held over you. You glanced up at him, your back stiff as a bored, “Draco.” 

    You never called him by his last name. He wondered if you knew how much he hated it or if you simply didn’t respect him.

    “Y/n.” He responded. You blinked owlishly at him the sound of rain on the stained glass windows of the small stairwell seemed to echo around you. 

    “Do you have something you would like to speak to me about?” You asked, peering straight at him. But that wasn’t right. You were looking through him. 

    “I don’t know,” Draco answered honestly, his heart thumping from nerves. You were so strange.

    You gave a curt nod, “You’re scared.” your voice was suddenly soft, almost a whisper. 

    Draco wasn’t sure how to respond. He had been wrong you looked not at him, not through him but into him. You could see who he was, he marveled. He supposed it was like looking in a distorted mirror and knowing what looked back didn’t look the same, but it was you. 

    “Aren’t you?” He asked, the stairway seemed to darken.

    “I don’t think so.” You said. “I don’t think I’m scared.”

    Draco wasn’t surprised, he wondered if you felt anything but he knew that was silly, of course, you did. You were just better at hiding it. 

    “You shouldn’t be scared Draco.” You murmured, your eyes had lost the sharpness they held moments before, “You’ll be okay.” 

    You had then shouldered past him and as the sound of your expensive dress shoes echoed off the stone walls he wondered if he would be. 

   

    Draco got into the habit of sitting near you. He insisted on being with you at meals and in classes, he even began to study with you bringing chocolate frogs and expensive candies from America. He was slowly invading your lonely life. 

You were studying in your common room late one night. You didn’t sleep much anymore, the darkness made you uncomfortable and nightmares haunted your young mind. Draco was always up with you, he had twin bags under his eyes which matched your own. 

“Why are you here with me?” You asked suddenly, eyes leaving the textbook in front of you for the first time in an hour. 

Draco looked up at you, “Because I’m terrible at Transfiguration.” 

You shook your head and narrowed your eyes slightly, eyes that always softened when they landed on the blonde, “Why are you always here with me?” 

The boy bit his lip, “Because you’re real.” He answered after a second too long. 

“So are Zabini and Parkinson.” He was the only one you didn’t call by his last name. 

Draco dropped his quill into the ink beside him, his eyes locked with yours, and just like yours did months ago in the stairwell he looked into you. “No, they aren’t. They pretend like everything is alright, like we’re normal. They’re fake.” There was a long pause and the fireplace let out a loud crack that sounded like a whip. “You don’t pretend.” 

You cocked your head a bit, “I thought you liked pretending.” 

“I used to.” He murmured, “But I don’t think I can anymore. I don’t want to be scared and when I pretended everything was okay I got scared when it wasn’t.” 

You made no response, you looked almost like a statue - something a greek carved a thousand years ago, a greek who managed to make stone beautiful. But it wasn’t a greek, and they made beautiful into stone, not the other way around. 

“Do you feel anything?” Draco wondered aloud, almost joking. 

You let out a soft chuckle, “I’m angry Draco.” You smiled, “And sad. And lonely.” you licked your lips and Draco watched that stone around you break, a small crack forming as your eyes went glassy and a heartbreaking smile curved your lips. “But you know all about that.” 

And he did. 

Things got less lonely for the rest of the year. Draco watched as slowly the statue that you were peeled away, you still didn’t smile much but you talked more. You told him about things he sometimes wished he didn’t hear. He told you about his own misfortunes, about how his father had built a dungeon under his house and how he was getting a tattoo over the summer. You didn’t pity him as he was sure many would have. Instead, you nodded, you understood him, you understood what he was doing and why he was doing it. You were doing the same after all. 

Summer was dreadful. You wrote letters to each other but it wasn’t enough. You found yourself needing Draco the way you had never needed anyone before. You had forgotten what it was like to be so utterly alone and you were no longer numb to the feeling. 

When you came back to school Dumbledore pulled you both aside, calling the two of you into his office one evening. When you entered the room he wore a grim smile, one so fake you would practically smell its plastic. 

“Hello y/n, Draco.” He spoke motioning for you to sit in front of his massive desk on two matching wooden chairs. You did as told folding your robes beneath you as Draco tucked the books he was holding for you on his lap. 

“Yes, professor?” You asked, you didn’t smile like he thought you might, you didn’t pretend even now. 

“I’m sure you have a sense of why I called you up here.” He responded, his smile dropped and replaced with a much more real frown. 

“I could take a guess.” You responded, Draco still didn’t speak. 

The headmaster turned his gaze to focus solely on you, his eyes were trying to pick you apart and when he glanced away Draco realized he had failed

“I know you two are in danger.” The man said, “I am not oblivious to what goes on at your homes. And while I am sure I could never fully understand what you’re going through I wish to help.” His voice was soft, “You know as well as I that dark forces are trying to infiltrate this castle at this very moment and I need you both to remember, their greatest weapon is no spell at all but you, children.” 

Draco could feel the elderly man’s eyes move to him and he tipped his chin to meet them hoping his gaze was as blank as yours. 

You waited a few more moments before speaking, “You’re right professor.” You said and Draco’s eyes widened, “You could never understand what we go through.” Your words were bitter, “And we are their greatest weapon.” 

Dumbledore looked defeated as he looked over his half-moon spectacles at you, he seemed to age ten years before your eyes as you sat with your legs folded, gaze unbreaking. 

“Do you have anything else to say or could we get back to our common room?” Draco swore the man almost flinched as you stood.

“You are free to go.” He mumbled and Draco stood to follow you, he was glad he hadn’t had to say a word. He wasn’t sure what he might have done. 

You broke down that night. Tears poured from your eyes as you struggled to catch your breath. Draco was stunned when you let out the first sob, the common room was empty and it bounced off the silent stone walls. Your statue had finally crumbled to dust. Draco pulled you into him as you fought against his hold for a moment before leaning into his warmth. You stayed there for a while, tears wetting his shirt as you burred your head in his neck. When you pulled away your eyes were rimmed in red and swollen, your cheeks were blotchy and shining in the dim light. 

“I need to get out of here Draco.” You whimpered to him, “I can’t kill someone, I can’t go back to my parents, I can’t face them.” 

There was a pregnant silence, Draco could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he raised a hand to your cheek tucking a loose string of hair behind your ear and using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. 

“Let’s run away.” He offered, “From all of this, we could go together into the muggle world, maybe to Canada or America.” 

You bit your lip so hard your teeth broke the skin, “We can’t.” choked back another cry, “We can’t Draco, I have to go through with this. We have to go through with this.” 

“Why?” The Slytherin asked, “Why do we have to? We don’t owe anyone anything.” 

Your gaze stiffened, “I do. I made promises I can’t break.” 

Draco felt his momentary hope crumble, your gaze softened again, your hands wrapping around his neck as you pulled him towards you until your foreheads were resting against each other. 

“I’m sorry Draco.” You whispered, “I’m so sorry.’ Your breath was hot on his face, your deep eyes peering into him through glass panes. 

“Don’t be sorry.” He murmured his chin tilting upwards to capture your lips on his own. Your kiss was desperate, hungry. You felt his teeth graze your bottom lip as your bodies were pressed closer together by his grip on your waist. Your hands moved to his hair as you tumbled over, your back pressed into the leather couch, your legs wrapping around him. Draco’s lips wandered up to your cheeks where he left open-mouthed kisses which tasted bitter and salty, they trailed down to your neck where he bit lightly before finding your own again. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth tasting the blood there before he plunged his tongue into your mouth. 

When you finally pulled apart you were panting lightly, “We’ll leave when all this is over.” spoke between breaths. “We’ll leave this all behind.” 

You choked back tears as you held your wand to your headmaster’s neck. 

“I understand why you are doing this.” The man sighed, he wasn’t even putting up a fight. That made it so much worse. 

“No, you don’t!” You sobbed, “You could never understand what it’s like. Never.” 

Draco stood a few feet from you. His eyes were glassy, his own wand raised. 

“That’s right y/n.” Bellatrix laughed, “This stupid old man could never know what it’s like for you, He could never help you.” She took a few steps toward you, her teeth were barred in a snarl, “Now kill him.” 

You felt your throat close up, your eyes so thick with tears you could barely see, “I’m sorry.” You whimpered quietly, “I’m so sorry, I have to, if I don’t kill you he’ll kill me, I’m sorry.” 

“Now y/n!” Bellatrix bellowed “Now!” 

Your voice was raw and broken as you whipped your wand at the man, “Avada Kedavra!” green flashed through your blurry world and you stumbled backward not wanting to watch as he tumbled off the tower. 

Draco snatched you by the shoulders, pulling him into his embrace as his aunt cackled. “It’s gonna be okay y/n/n, everything is going to be okay.” His sentence broke and you could feel his body shake, “We’re gonna leave soon. We’ll leave this all behind.” 

You stood hand and hand, your palm had pebbles buried inside a layer of skin, your cheek burned from a cut which you could feel dripping blood off your chin. You stared across the ruins of what used to be your school at your classmates. You felt your mother beside you and your father behind you. Draco squeezed your hand and they disappeared. His whisper echoed in your mind. You would leave this soon. You would leave this all behind. 

A shout broke you from your trance, you watched as Harry Potter rolled from Hagrid’s arms and felt Draco drop your hand. 

“Potter!” He shouted and he broke out running towards him, you took after him as he threw his wand at the boy and a barrage of spells were shot at you. 

“Protego!” You shouted shielding you and Draco as red and green sparks danced around you. Suddenly your arm was snatched and you turned to meet your mother’s gaze but before any words could be spoken she was hit by a blue light and scent hurdling backward. You turned to look at Hermione Granger who had her wand held up. You nodded at the girl in a silent thank you before turning your attention back to the blonde who suddenly tackled you to the ground. Something whizzed by your cheek and you hit the ground with a thump. 

Draco pulled you to your feet and you both sprinted for the castle gates. Your legs caught just short of the entrance and you tumbled downwards dropping Draco’s hand only be hulled back up and thrown backward. You heard a shout and turned as a death eater snatched Draco and slammed him onto the ground. 

“Avada Kedavra!” You shouted and the man flew backward into a limp pile. You snatched Dracos robes pulling him upwards and into the castle. 

You tumbled onto him, gasping for breath as your heart sped in your chest. “Draco?” You asked quietly, shouts seeming so far away now.

His eyes fluttered open, his neck had a wide scratch down the side, his face was covered in soot and dust, rubble had sliced open his pale skin just below his left eye. You sobbed tears stinging your cut and mixing with blood before dripping off your nose and onto his cheek.

“I’m okay.” He mumbled, “I’m okay, please don’t cry.” 

You pressed your forehead into his chest still sobbing as you fisted his singed shirt.

“Y/n.” His voice brought you back up to his eyes, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You whimpered, leaning down to meet his lips. They were chapped and rough, your own were split and all you could taste was blood and salt but that was okay. It was okay because you would be gone. You could leave soon. You could leave this all behind. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

[petitelepus]

His Beloved And More, Part 5

Thanks to Brainstorm’s brilliant plan you’re tucked away in his habsuite. Nothing can go wrong... Or can they?

WARNING! There is major character death in this chapter and blood and gore. I do not recommend this chapter for those with sensitive mind.

Mechs were sad by your disappearance and many came to give Brainstorm their consoles. The scientist acted through them, thanking everyone but never letting them lose hope of seeing you again. They would all get to see you again and he would be a hero. Some mechs got uneasy by his positivity, but many of his friends dared to keep the hope up, even if it was just a facade for Brainstorm’s sake.

Their travels continued on and Brainstorm kept doing his usual job in the lab with Perceptor, but in his free time he would lock himself into his habsuite behind heavy steel doors and take you out on display as he would work on the cure for your humanity and sometimes shower your tank with his love.

Then the fated day came that the alarms went off in the laboratory. Perceptor and Brainstorm were right there reading damage reports when the grim news came, but there was not one bad new but two. The scientists quickly commed Ultra Magnus.

’Perceptor, what happened? The ship stopped moving forward and is twisting on its side.’ Ultra Magnus asked the former Wrecker scientist.

’I’m well aware of this Ultra Magnus. It appears that engine 2 has been sabotaged. I’m going there with Nightbeat and Nautica right now to see what is going on.’

’Good, let us know immediately what you find there.’

’There are more news.’ Perceptor added, sounding almost regretful for informing that.

’And they’re?’

’Grave. We lost contact with liaison’s capsule.’

’…I’m afraid I don’t understand. What do you mean Perceptor?’

’I regret telling you this, but I’m afraid that capsule has wandered far off its direction, but most likely, it has been eliminated by an outside force.’

’I see…’ Ultra Magnus grew quiet. ’Does Brainstorm know about this?’

’Yes. He’s rather upset now so I would recommend letting him think this through.’

’I understand. Find out what’s wrong with the engine and I’ll inform Rodimus and Megatron about her fate. We need to have a conversation about how to approach this to crew…’

’I understand.’

As Perceptor and his little team ventured to the engine room, Ultra Magnus approached his captains, and Brainstorm made his way to his habsuite. He seemed almost too happy, no one could tell what news he had just received.

Even if the news were fake, only he knew it and only he knew you were alive and well in his habsuite. He gained weird looks since he couldn’t contain some of his giggles of excitement. He couldn’t wait to see you and tell you how well his plan has worked!

Brainstorm entered his room and locked the door behind himself before approaching your safe. He hit the code in and your lovely calm face greeted as your tank emerged from the wall. Brainstorm smiled behind his mask at the sight of you and rested his forehead against the tank's cool glass as he looked at you.

”The plan worked my love…! Everything is going just as I planned! We’re so close to our goal…!” Brainstorm kept looking at you until this uneasy feeling settled to his tanks. Something was wrong. He took a look at your monitors that showed him your heart rate, brain waves, and everything else that was essential to keeping you alive. That’s when his spark froze.

Every monitor showed a straight line. Your heart monitor, brain line, lines everywhere!

”No, no, NO!”

How was it possible!? Was there something wrong with machinery that was supposed to keep you alive?! Brainstorm quickly yanked your tank aside to get a look at the machines he had planted inside the wall to support your body. What he saw made him see red.

A creature as big as the largest dog on Earth, with a disgusting tangled fur, along three-way split tail and horrible teeth was chewing on all the cables and tubes of his machinery, digging through metal and grounding it in its teeth before swallowing.

The little alien must have been the source of the failed engine and it had somehow ventured to Brainstorm’s habsuite and inside his wall where you rested. The biggest tube that had been completely destroyed just happened to be one pumping oxygen to your body.

"Get away from her!"

Without a second of doubt, Brainstorm snatched the alien to his hand in crushing grip and threw it across his habsuite, away from his machinery. There was a sickening squishy sound and crush, but the flier didn’t pay any attention to them. He quickly opened your tank and pulled you out, laying your limp body on the floor as he tried to resurrect you.

He tried everything he knew, pumping your chest carefully with the tips of his servos, patting your back, blowing air to your mouth, and giving you a little electricity to start your heart again…! But after struggling with your cold body for fifteen minutes everything turned grey in his optics. The only color he could see was your blue lips and he was taken over by an urgent need to kiss you. You two never really kissed, but you wouldn’t mind one kiss, would you?

With his mask off, Brainstorm gently kissed you, your cool unmoving lips pressing against his warm soft metal lips. He kept kissing you in sad hopes that you would magically wake up as all the princesses did in your favorite movies at Earth Movie Nights, but no matter how much he showered you in his love you wouldn’t wake up.

Brainstorm stopped kissing you and just stared at your body. There was a bing in his commlink, telling him someone was trying to contact him, but he ignored it. His plans and your shared future together…! All ruined by an uncounted accident.

No, Brainstorm wouldn’t let you disappear, he wouldn’t lose you. But… He just lost you…

'Brainstorm…? Why are you sad?'

Was that...? Your voice!

Brainstorm looked at you with his optics widening in joy, already expecting your eyes to slowly blink open and look at him with life in your eyes… but there you laid, unmoving and cold. But it was your voice that he heard, laced with worry over your loved one aka him. Brainstorm held his helm and curled over himself.

”I- it happened again…! First Quark and now you! Why I lose everyone I care about!?” He cried out loud. ”I really tried this time, I really did! I tried my hardest and it wasn't enough!”

'But Brainstorm, you haven’t lost me. I’ll always be with you because I love you.'

Your voice was gentle and it sounded like you were smiling at him like during those times when you just held him in your lap and stroked his helm so peacefully and lovingly.

”It’s not enough! I want to see you smile, I want to kiss you and hold you! I can’t love you this way like I want to!” He cried in despair, but you didn't disappear.

'Then do what you must to bring me back. You’re a brilliant scientist, aren’t you? I know if there is anyone who can do it it’s you.'

Yes, you were right…! There was still hope…! You weren’t gone yet! Your heart may not have been pumping, but you could still be saved! Brainstorm didn’t know much about humans, but his latest experiments could be essentials to return you to your glory!

First, he had to save you! The thing that made you. Your brains!

Brainstorm giggled, quickly jumping to his pedes and running to his little instrument cabinet! He picked up a thing or two, humming a happy tune as he made his way back to you. The scientist put all the little saws, drills, and containers around you and picked up a specially big and sharp scalpel, sharp enough to cut through your flesh and bones with ease.

'Will it hurt Brainstorm…?'

You sounded frightened but more worried than anything else.

”It will hurt a little bit, but bear with me my beloved…! It’s all for our future together…!” Brainstorm assured you with a wicked grin as he made the first bloody cut across your forehead.

For the next hour or so, the flier ignored all the attempts of others to contact him for one reason or another, was it the loss of your signal or mysterious alien sabotaging ship. He was too busy saving your relationship and one of the healthy relationship bases was quality time together.

With the last piece of you saved, Brainstorm smiled and looked down at his handwork. There was blood, dark, cold, and sticky, everywhere and all over mech’s hands, but the messy job was worth it because you were now categorized so neatly!

Every single piece of you, organs, limbs, extra blood, all categorized into their very own tanks, bottles, and vials!

'Wow, I had so little blood in me…!'

”I think you’re thinking about that Dexter series’ first season you made us watch. There were far more humans killed in that blood-filled room episode.”

'I always thought 5 liters would look bigger.'

Brainstorm chuckled. You were sometimes so silly. Brainstorm carefully picked your brains he had put to the side and carried them to his secret little lab inside the wall. He would need to collect every single bit of data and memory before your brain cells would lose all the information they hold in them.

He placed your brains on the stand and turned away to activate his machines and take out a handful of long sharp needles that he should definitely not have in his possession.

'What are those for Brainstorm?'

”Brilliant question my sweet spark! These needles are usually used when performing mnemosurgery on mechs for they have a unique feature in them that allows them to work through electricity with Cybertronian brain modules. Seeing that your humans' brains also work with electricity, I’m going to electrocute your brains to keep your brain cells active so they won’t die out too much before I get every essence of you saved to this little chip here on the computer.” Brainstorm explained, briefly motioning to the minimalistic supercomputer on the side while he attached wires to needles.

'Is it going to hurt also…? I don’t like needles…'

”I know you don’t, my darling oilcake, but bear with me…” The scientist grinned, pushing the first needle into your brains. ”There are only 13 needles left…!”

[infinitefandomimagines]

I Can’t Lose You - Poe Dameron x Reader

-

WARNINGS: RISE OF SKYWALKER SPOILERS, MENTIONS OF DEATH, MENTIONS OF TORTURE, ANGST, BLOOD, YELLING

REQUEST: @lookinsidemyhead could I maybe ask for a Star Wars imagine? Like a poexfem!reader Maybe like instead of chewie being captured it was the reader and when they rescue her she’s a little out it from the torture in the interrogation room. angst with happy ending bc they escape

+

A poe dameron tros x reader where reader gets captured with chewy and poe rescues her, lots of angsty poe after losing reader because he thinks she's dead, then fluff when they reunite

-

The only thing that could pull the team's stunned gazes from the fiery explosion of the First Order ship was Poe's horrifying scream. The way your name ripped through his throat made Finn's heart stop and his blood run cold.

Poe took no caution in his efforts to make his way down from the rocky structure their getaway ship stood perched on, slipping and nearly falling more than once.

His heels kicked up sand as he sprinted towards the wrecked ship and Rey, who still stood frozen as the realization of what she'd just done dawned on her. Finn had to stop Poe from running straight to her, he'd never hurt Rey, but after what just happened he definitely wasn't thinking straight.

Finn wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him back and restricting his movement as he struggled to get free.

"What did you do?" Poe yelled at Rey, the high pitched crack in his voice was enough to send daggers through anyone listening's heart. Poe never stopped struggling to break free from Finn's grasp, and it was getting to the point where he just might succeed.

"Chewie I need some help down here!" Finn called up to the Wookie. There was no way he could get Poe to the ship himself, not when he was like this.

"Poe we need to go!" Finn yelled as he tried to pull Poe towards the ship, knowing if they stayed any longer your life wouldn't be the only fatality.

"No! No, I can't leave her!"

"She's gone, Poe. There's nothing we can-"

Finn stopped short as Poe finally broke free from his grasp. However, he didn't get very far, Chewie had made it down just in time to grab him.

"Chewie!" Finn yelled out, "Get him to the ship we need to get out of here! Rey come on!" Poe tried to fight his way out again, but the Wookie was too strong, forcibly pulling him back to the ship. He didn't stop fighting until Chewie released him once the ship had taken off with everyone safely inside.

There was a heavy tension in the air, nobody knew what to say. It's like they were just waiting for Poe to lash out like he usually did when he was upset, but he didn't. The burst of yelling and cursing the team was anxiously waiting for never came. Instead, he simply collapsed onto a storage box and with his head in his hands, he sobbed.

Finn watched his best friend, one who usually stood so strong and fiery, completely fall apart. Rey's heart ached in a way she didn't know it could, the thought that she'd caused this haunting her mind.

BB-8 slowly rolled over to Poe, letting out a series of confused beeps. "She's gone, buddy," Poe said in a broken voice. The small droid let out a high pitched whine mixed with sad beeps.

"This can't be for nothing," Finn finally spoke up, his voice soft as he struggled to speak through his own tears. "We can't let her die for nothing."

"She had the dagger with her, and without that. . ." Rey's voice was grim.

"So true, the inscription lives only in my memory now," C-3PO spoke up. All heads turned towards the droid. "Hang on, the inscription from the dagger is in your memory?" Finn asked.

"Yes master Finn, but the translation from a forbidden language cannot be retrieved, that is short of a complete redactive memory bypass. It is an extremely dangerous procedure usually performed by criminals."

"Alright, how do we do that?" Finn asked as if there was no question as to what the next step was.

"I know a black market droidsmith," Poe finally spoke up, his eyes glazed over and red. "He's on Kijimi." Poe didn't like the idea of going to Kijimi, but he didn't like the idea of you dying for nothing more.

"For Y/N," Finn said, giving Poe's shoulder a squeeze. "Yeah, for Y/N," Poe repeated, the sound of your name leaving a sad and bitter taste in his mouth.

-

Kijimi went just about how Poe thought it would. They had a rocky start, but in the end, they were able to retrieve the inscription from C-3PO's memory.

The droid's eyes glowed an ominous red as it recited the location to the Wayfinder.

"The Endor system? Where the last war ended?" Finn asked. No one had the opportunity to answer him as the entire building started shaking. Everyone shared concerned looks, but it was Rey who was the first to run outside to see what was causing the commotion.

"Ren's destroyer," she announced, looking up at the large, menacing ship. "He's here?" Finn asked, looking up at her. But Rey didn't answer, it seemed as though her entire body had gone stiff. "Y/N. . ." She spoke softly, but loud enough for Finn and Poe to hear.

"What about her?" Poe asked bitterly, your name sending a dagger through his heart.

"She's alive, she's on that ship," Rey turned around to face her friends.

"What?" Poe whispered, his voice cracking slightly. Tears stung the back of his eyes, but this time the tears weren't ones of sorrow. He felt a small glimmer of hope bubble up inside of him. He no longer slouched, his back straightening up and shoulders rolling back, Rey's words bringing a new light to his eyes.

"How is that possible?" Finn questioned.

"She must have been on a different transport," Rey spoke, her words still laced with disbelief.

"We have to go get her," Poe said eagerly, grabbing his things and looking around at the group. Everyone nodded in agreement, all except C-3PO, who sat confused, his only thought being to introduce himself.

"Yeah, that's gonna be a problem," Poe muttered, a little annoyed at their situation, but not even C-3PO's lost memory could damage his spirits. His head already fantasizing about seeing you again, creating multiple scenarios in his head.

Once everyone was ready, they rushed from Zorii's hideout, the girl following them just to be sure they made it to their ship.

"Thank you," Poe rushed out to Zorii once they'd reached their ship. He didn't plan on waiting for a response, but a grip on his forearm stopped him dead in his tracks. "Poe-" Zorii spoke up, only to be cut short.

"I'm sorry, I have to go, but you can come with us," He offered. Though his feelings for his past relationship were gone, he still cared about Zorii as a friend and leaving her behind just felt wrong. But Zorii shook her head, "I can't," she answered sadly, "But take this, it'll grant you passage to Ren's ship."

Poe stared at the shiny medallion, "I can't, it's yours-"

"Anyone two eyes and half a brain can see how much you care about this girl, it's worth more to you than it is to me."

Poe paused before lifting his hands and gently taking the medallion from Zorii, "Thank you," he breathed out, wrapping Zorii in a tight embrace. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Zorii chuckled a bit as she returned the hug before lightly pushing Poe towards his ship, "Now go, save your girl and win the war."

Poe nodded, mumbling one more 'thank you' before boarding the ship with the others.

-

Getting inside Ren's destroyer had been easier than anticipated, especially with the held of the medallion. However, searching the maze of a ship deemed a difficult task. It seemed as though with each hall they turned down there were more and more stormtroopers.

The next corner they turned no one had their blasters at the ready. Rey quickly jumped in front of Finn and Poe, waving her hand in front of the stormtroopers, "It is okay that we are here," she rushed out.

"It is okay that you're here," one of the troopers repeated.

"You're relieved that we're here."

"Oh thank God you're here," The trooper's shoulders relaxed and he lowered his blaster to his side, as did the other.

"Does she do that to us?" Poe asked, a little confused as to what exactly just happened. Rey just ignored him, instead, she asked the troopers for where you were being held, which they gladly provided.

It was a mad dash to the room you were in, the name of the room being "Interrogation room #6" worrying him.

At some point, Rey ran off on her own, but when Finn tried to follow her Poe gripped his arm, "We need to find Y/N, Rey can handle herself." Chewie howled in agreement with Poe, and Finn knew better than to argue with his friends.

It didn't take long to reach the room you were being held in and even less to shoot the lock on the door and bust in. Poe winced as he entered the familiar room, the dark lighting and metal chair-like structure sending painful memories of his time spent being tortured by Kylo Ren. He didn't even want to imagine what you must have been through, though sadly he could.

Poe quickly shook all thoughts that plagued his mind, you were the only thing that mattered right now. Nothing else. He approached the chair slowly, scared that what he finds might not be what he hoped for.

His heart sank when he saw your unconscious form strapped down to the chair by restraints. A bruise had already formed on the left side of your face, just over your cheekbone. There was a bloody cut that stretched across your right temple which was beginning to form its own bruise, and a trail of blood trickled down and dripped onto your shirt from your nose. Your chest moved up and down slowly as you took in shallow breaths. Poe didn't even want to imagine what the parts of you he couldn't see looked like.

Poe gently placed his shaking hands on either side of your cheeks, cupping your face. The pad of his thumb lightly brushed over you bruise, examining it. "Y/N," he spoke softly, "Y/N, baby please wake up."

Your entire body suddenly tensed up as your struggled against your restraints, prompting Poe to quickly pull his hands away from you, terrified he hurt you.

"No, please. . ." You mumbled, not fully awake, your eyes screwed shut. "Please. . . Don't."

"We need to get her out of these restraints," Poe instructed, trying his best to hide the panic in his voice. Chewie let out a wail, pressing a red button on the wall adjacent to the chair. There was a hissing sound followed by a click as your restraints popped open.

You blinked your eyes a bit at the noise and sudden release of pressure on your wrists and ankles. A familiar face came into view as you blinked away the hazy glaze from your eyes.

"Poe?" You whispered, not quite sure if Kylo Ren was playing tricks on your mind again or not.

"It's me, baby, you're okay." He said, helping you out of the metal chair and pulling you into his arms. One arm wrapped around your waist as the other held the back of your head, your cheeks resting against his chest. You winced as he accidentally pressed against your bruised ribcage, but in all honesty, you didn't care. You were just relieved to be back in his arms, and Poe was more than happy to have you there.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled into your hair, "I shouldn't have let you go out there alone."

"It's not your fault, you couldn't have known."

"Guys I really hate to break up the moment, but we gotta go!" Finn rushed out, earning a bellow of agreement from Chewie.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Poe said, pulling away from the embrace. "Can you walk?"

You nodded, however as soon as you took the first step forward your head started spinning and your vision blurred. You quickly reached out and gripped Poe's arm to stop yourself from losing balance. Poe instinctively caught you, holding up the majority of your weight.

"Chewie!" Poe called out, gesturing to you. The Wookie swiftly placed your arm around his waist, and wrapped a furry arm around your back and under your arm, holding you up.

Poe and Finn walked ahead of you, blasters at the ready, inspecting each hallway for hostiles. You limped behind them, Chewie helping you walk by holding you upright.

And after Poe being shot, all four of you nearly being executed, only to be saved by an unlikely ally, you made it to the Millennium Falcon.

Chewie gently set you down on the small cot in Poe's quarters while Finn rushed to the cockpit, trying his best to remember everything Poe had taught him about flying. Chewie soon joined him, helping him get the Falcon in the air so they could go find Rey.

Poe stayed with you in his quarters, sorting through a med pack to find supplies to bandage and clean your wounds. A soft groan escaped your throat as the ship took a sharp turn, harshly shaking the cot you were laying on, sending a wave of pain through your body.

Poe wet a cloth and started dabbing at the dried blood on your temple. You let out a hiss as the sudden contact stung. Poe slipped his free hand into yours, attempting to provide any form of comfort he could.

"What did they do to you?" Poe asked as he moved to clean the blood from under your nose. The question wasn't directed towards you, more of Poe just thinking out loud. However, his question still sent a chill up your spine as you began to replay the horrible things Kylo Ren and his minions did to get information out of you. You were able to refrain from giving them anything up until Kylo Ren used the force to crawl around in your mind. The pain was indescribable.

"Hey, it's okay," Poe comforted, stopping what he was doing. He'd noticed the grimace on your face and how you tensed up when he brought up his question. "You're safe, he can't hurt you."

You nodded weakly, waiting for the horrible thoughts to pass as Poe got back to work.

Poe worked quickly to clean and bandage your wounds, finishing up a matter of minutes. While he packed up the medical kit, you attempted to sit up, but the action proved to be a bit more painful than you anticipated. You inhaled sharply as a sharp pain exploded from your side, your hand instinctively flew to your bruised ribcage, holding it as if that would help the pain subside.

"Here, let me help," Poe said softly when he noticed your struggle. He placed a hand on your back and the other lightly grabbed your arm as he pulled you to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Your hand still clutched your side as you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the pain to dissipate.

The bed sank beside you as Poe took a seat beside you, his hand rubbing comforting circle in your back. You leaned into him, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

"Do you want something for the pain," he asked, there was a bit of tension in his voice as he tried to hold back tears, he hated seeing you in so much pain. "No, it'll pass. I'm fine." And eventually, it did, leaving you relieved and a bit more cautious about how you moved.

You lifted your head from Poe's shoulder, your eyes meeting his. A soft smile graced his lips and his hand moved from your back to your neck, his thumb resting on your jaw. "I thought I'd lost you," he said in a shaky voice, tears threatening to spill. "And it made me realize you're the one thing I can't live without."

You wrapped your fingers around Poe's arm, just below his wrist, rubbing small circles in the back of his hand with the pad of your thumb.

"I can't lose you," his voice cracked as his eyes glazed over with tears.

"You won't, I promise," you confirmed.

Poe pulled you into him, gently pressing his lips to yours. His hand slid down from your neck to your waist, his other hand finding it's way to your hip. He pulled you into his lap, breaking the kiss to fully envelop you in a hug, careful not to touch your bruised side. One arm kept hold of your waist while the other crossed your back, his hand placed on your shoulder. Poe rested his head in the crook of your neck, holding you close.

You rested a hand on his back while the other held the back of his head. You lightly ran your fingers through his messy curls.

You let out a sigh of content, finally feeling at ease being in Poe's arms. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

TAG LIST

@gracielou0518 @booklove103

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CIV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Not to toot my own horn but this fic really is one of the best things I’ve ever written -Danny

Words: 3,498

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Enemies’ -by Lauv

Chapter Two: Expected Mishaps.

"You may think he doesn't like you, but he's got a knack for interrupting your flirting with others," Fred smirked.

"Shut up," Mel groaned.

It was chaos in the kitchen. A bunch of people trying to discover why and how Harry had seen himself in the position of having to use unauthorized magic. Mel chuckled bitterly as she entered the living room.

"This is why I don't worry, I've been acquainted with my uncle's ways for far too long to even bother– Harry was being watched, wasn't he?"

Hermione gave her an irritated look.

"You're talking about your best friend!"

"He's alive, isn't he?" She sat on a chair lazily. "Explains my headache..."

"Your headache?" Ginny asked.

"The point is," Mel brushed it off, "Dumbledore will find a way to fix it."

"They'll give him a hearing on August twelfth, he won't be expelled just yet!" Her mother's head peered from the doorway before disappearing again.

"See?" The girl smiled sarcastically. "Harry Potter and his bloody luck..."

'I've just been attacked by dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.'

She'd been glaring at the piece of parchment for days. The nerve! No letters whatsoever to ask about how was she doing and the first time he writes is to demand things! As if they knew more than him...

The moment she'd gotten the letter she locked herself in her room and refused to think about it. Everyone downstairs couldn't stop talking about Harry and she just wanted a nap.

Her mother walked in with a very grim expression, holding a cup of tea.

"You missed dinner."

"M'sorry," Mel said hoarsely, rubbing her eyes. "My head was hurting..."

"Was it Harry?"

"I guess," She sulked. "This connection is a pain..."

"You must be dead worried–"

"I never said that," Mel replied promptly. "It annoys me, that's all."

"I know it hurts when things don't happen the way we want to, but I hope you know better than to treat someone poorly because of it, especially when they're not to blame."

Mel let out a short and dry chuckle. If only her mother knew...

Harry wasn't to blame on his trauma, that much was true, but when it came to the way things ended between them, that was a different story. If he'd handled things differently they'd be together. Mel would be waiting for him, he would have someone to come home to.

He messed up and yet he still had twenty people running around doing everything in their power to help him, she was allowed to be a bit shitty.

"I know," Mel replied, but it sounded condescending. "Is he coming tonight?"

"Yes. He's coming guarded."

"Because he's bloody Harry Potter..."

"Language," Her mother warned her, standing up and taking the empty teacup with her.

Ginny came in and sat down next to her, an anxious look on her face.

"What?" Mel grinned. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

Ginny inched closer.

"I promise I won't ask again, you'll have me off your back..."

"What's going on?"

"Are you avoiding him because of me?"

She didn't need to explain herself. For almost a year Ginny and Mel had kept their mouths shut about their feelings for a certain dark-haired boy in order to keep a good friendship, but tonight the wall was falling apart. They had to be clear in order to move forward.

"Not at all!" She smiled tensely. "I'm so sorry if you thought I was, I didn't mean to worry you."

"Oh!" The girl turned scarlet. "I was starting to feel guilty, especially now that..."

She stopped and sent a furtive look to the door, Mel cocked her head to the side and smirked.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm dating someone."

Mel let out a short gasp.

"Who?!"

"A Ravenclaw from your year," Ginny responded happily. "I met him during the ball, his name is Michael..."

"I know him!" She exclaimed. "Quiet boy, kinda looks like he's falling asleep all the time?"

"Yes," Ginny laughed. "He's really nice, though..."

"I'm happy for you!"

The girl beamed at her, but her eyes grew shy as she continued.

"Why did you stop talking to Harry, then?"

It'd be easier for everyone if she just started lying. Ginny knew her enough to know she wasn't being entirely honest, but Mel was determined to work on it until it was true. She wasn't going to feed a stupid illusion, by the end of the year, Harry Potter would have no place in her heart.

He was going to have a place in her life though, he proved as much three seconds later, when his voice echoed from the second floor:

"SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH! AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO'VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT — WHO SAVED THE SORCERER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?"

Ginny and Mel shared a look.

"Sounds delighted to be here," Mel said sarcastically.

"Should we go check on him?"

The older girl changed her posture awkwardly.

"Dunno Ginny, things kinda went sideways last time we spoke..."

"It's Harry! He can't be mad at you!"

"I'm mad at him," She corrected.

"Don't be a baby," Ginny stood up. "He'll be happy to see you..."

They continued to hear his yelling as they went downstairs.

"WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME! BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING?"

"He's out of control," Mel rolled her eyes, starting to feel a bit annoyed. "I'm sure everyone's listening downstairs, I'd be embarrassed if I were him..."

"CAN'T'VE WANTED TO THAT MUCH, CAN YOU, OR YOU'D HAVE SENT ME AN OWL, BUT DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR — FOUR WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TO TRY AND FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON — I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER —"

"...What kind of idiots does he think we are?"

"He's stressed, I mean, he's been alone hasn't he?"

"Four weeks!" Mel exclaimed. "Barely a month! Sirius spent a whole year hiding just to be sure that twat was okay!"

A loud cracking noise came from Ron's room followed by Hermione's scream, Mel chuckled.

"Your brothers have arrived at the crime scene..."

"At least that way Harry won't be able to snap at us," Ginny smiled.

When they reached the door, she hesitated. Mel stood behind her, her smile vanished completely and her palms were awfully sweaty.

"Whatever the fight was about..." Ginny said. "I'm sure you'll make things right."

"Yeah..." Mel said weakly. She really, really wished she could've avoided Harry for a few more hours. "Let's just..." She gestured vaguely to the door, which Ginny opened.

"Oh hello, Harry!" She heard her say. "I thought I heard your voice." She walked in, Mel following with a quiet groan. "It's no go with the Extendable Ears, she's gone and put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."

"How d'you know?" asked George.

"Tonks told me how to find out– You just chuck stuff at the door and if it can't make contact the door's been Imperturbed. I've been flicking Dungbombs at it from the top of the stairs and they just soar away from it, so there's no way the Extendable Ears will be able to get under the gap."

"Shame. I really fancied finding out what old Snape's been up to."

"Snape? Is he here?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," George walked past, giving Mel a funny look before carefully closing the door. He sat down and Fred and Ginny followed. "Giving a report. Top secret."

"Git," said Fred.

"He's on our side now," Hermione reminded them.

"Doesn't stop him from being a git," Ron replied. "The way he looks at us when he sees us..."

"Bill doesn't like him either," said Ginny matter-of-factly.

Harry was skinnier than ever, he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was even more unkempt than before. But what really hit her, what made her realize how long they'd been apart, was the fact that he'd finally surpass her in height by at least six inches.

"You've grown," She stated, a mix of sadness and outrage.

"I know," Harry replied. His voice was no longer angry, and his eyes had softened at the sight of the girl.

"Good."

Mel tried not to think about the way he was looking at her. Was she supposed to hug him? To ramble about how happy she was? She didn't even know if she was happy...

The group was looking back and forth with increasing interest.

"Well," She cleared her throat. "Welcome..."

"How's Emily?" Harry stepped further.

"Fine. So is Sirius and Buck–"

"How're you?" He looked positively anxious now, eager to get closer.

For some reason, that irritated her.

"I'm having nightmares and headaches, thank you very much... You would know if you had written to me."

Harry's face fell.

"You didn't write to me either!"

"So?" She responded.

Harry looked like he wanted to reply, but Fred moved and that caught his attention, he remembered they weren't alone.

"So... Bill's here?" He asked, clearing his throat and looking away from her. "I thought he was working in Egypt."

"He applied for a desk job so he could come home and work for the Order. He says he misses the tombs, but," Fred smirked, "there are compensations..."

"What d'you mean?"

"Remember old Fleur Delacour?" said George. "She's got a job at Gringotts to eemprove 'er Eeenglish —"

"— and Bill's been giving her a lot of private lessons," Fred grinned.

"Charlie's in the Order too," said George, "but he's still in Romania, Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards brought in as possible, so Charlie's trying to make contacts on his days off."

"Couldn't Percy do that?" Harry asked.

Mel sat down, feeling ten times heavier than an hour ago. She let Hermione silently rub her back as a way of comfort.

"Whatever you do, don't mention Percy in front of Mum and Dad," Ron said quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because every time Percy's name's mentioned, Dad breaks whatever he's holding and Mum starts crying," Fred said.

"It's been awful," said Ginny.

"I think we're well shut of him," said George darkly.

"What's happened?"

"Percy and Dad had a row. I've never seen Dad row with anyone like that. It's normally Mum who shouts..."

"It was the first week back after term ended," said Ron. "We were about to come and join the Order. Percy came home and told us he'd been promoted."

"You're kidding?" said Harry.

"Yeah, we were all surprised, because Percy got into a load of trouble about Crouch, there was an inquiry and everything. They said Percy ought to have realized Crouch was off his rocker and informed a superior. But you know Percy, Crouch left him in charge, he wasn't going to complain..."

"So how come they promoted him?"

"That's exactly what we wondered. He came home really pleased with himself — even more pleased than usual if you can imagine that — and told Dad he'd been offered a position in Fudge's own office. A really good one for someone only a year out of Hogwarts — Junior Assistant to the Minister. He expected Dad to be all impressed, I think."

"Only Dad wasn't," said Fred.

"Why not?" said Harry.

"Well, apparently Fudge has been storming 'round the Ministry checking that nobody's having any contact with Dumbledore," said George.

"Dumbledore's name's mud with the Ministry these days, see," said Fred. "They all think he's just making trouble saying You-Know-Who's back."

"Brilliant," Mel said bitterly. "More people thinking we're mental..."

"Dad says Fudge has made it clear that anyone who's in league with Dumbledore can clear out their desks," said George.

"Trouble is, Fudge suspects Dad, he knows he's friendly with Dumbledore, and he's always thought Dad's a bit of a weirdo because of his Muggle obsession —"

"But what's this got to do with Percy?" asked Harry, confused.

"I'm coming to that. Dad reckons Fudge only wants Percy in his office because he wants to use him to spy on the family — and Dumbledore."

"Bet Percy loved that." Said Harry.

"He went completely berserk. He said — well, he said loads of terrible stuff. He said he's been having to struggle against Dad's lousy reputation ever since he joined the Ministry and that Dad's got no ambition and that's why we've always been — you know — not had a lot of money, I mean —"

"What?" Harry spat.

"I know... And it got worse. He said Dad was an idiot to run around with Dumbledore, that Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that he — Percy — knew where his loyalty lay and it was with the Ministry. And if Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry he was going to make sure everyone knew he didn't belong to our family anymore. And he packed his bags the same night and left. He's living here in London now."

"Bastard..." Harry swore quietly. She would've laughed at his outburst hadn't been because she was upset about Percy too.

"Not that he deserves being in your family right now," Mel grumbled. "That idiot..."

"Always thought you were his fan, Lady..." Fred teased.

"If he's stupid enough to stand behind Fudge, then I clearly had the wrong impression."

"Mum's been in a right state," Ron continued. "You know — crying and stuff. She came up to London to try and talk to Percy but he slammed the door in her face. I dunno what he does if he meets Dad at work — ignores him, I s'pose."

"But Percy must know Voldemort's back– He's not stupid, he must know your mum and dad wouldn't risk everything without proof —"

"Yeah, well, your name got dragged into the row. Percy said the only evidence was your word and... I dunno... he didn't think it was good enough."

"Percy takes the Daily Prophet seriously," said Hermione.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Haven't — haven't you been getting the Daily Prophet?"

"Yeah, I have!" said Harry.

"Have you — er — been reading it thoroughly?"

"Not cover to cover. If they were going to report anything about Voldemort it would be headline news, wouldn't it!"

"I haven't read it at all," Mel didn't want anything to do with the world for as long as she could, that included the newspaper. The rest would discuss it during breakfast, but her brain would sort of tune out whenever that happened.

"Well, you'd need to read it cover to cover to pick it up, but they — um — they mention you a couple of times a week."

"But I'd have seen —"

"Not if you've only been reading the front page, you wouldn't. I'm not talking about big articles. They just slip you in, like you're a standing joke."

"What d'you — ?"

"It's quite nasty, actually," said Hermione, Mel could feel her tensing. "They're just building on Rita's stuff."

"But she's not writing for them anymore, is she?"

"Oh no, she's kept her promise — not that she's got any choice, but she laid the foundation for what they're trying to do now."

"Which is what?"

"Okay, you know she wrote that you were collapsing all over the place and saying your scar was hurting and all that? And that Mel was a dangerous loony that would do anything to keep you happy?"

"Yeah?"

"Clear as day," Mel grumbled.

"Well, they're writing about you as though you're both deluded, attention-seeking people, they say Harry thinks he's a great tragic hero or something. They keep slipping in snide comments about you. If some far-fetched story appears they say something like 'a tale worthy of Harry Potter' and if anyone has a funny accident or anything it's 'let's hope he hasn't got a scar on his forehead or we'll be asked to worship him next —'"

"I don't want anyone to worship —"

"I know you don't," said Hermione. "I know, Harry. But you see what they're doing? They want to turn you into someone nobody will believe. Fudge is behind it, I'll bet anything. They want wizards on the street to think you're just some stupid boy who's a bit of a joke, who tells ridiculous tall stories because he loves being famous and wants to keep it going."

"And they want me to look like a blind follower?" Mel asked. "A desperate, mental girl?"

"I didn't ask — I didn't want — Voldemort killed my parents!" Harry continued heatedly. "I got famous because he murdered my family but couldn't kill me! Who wants to be famous for that? Don't they think I'd rather it'd never —"

"We know, Harry," said Ginny.

"And of course, they didn't report a word about the dementors attacking you. Someone's told them to keep that quiet. That should've been a really big story, out-of-control dementors. They haven't even reported that you broke the International Statute of Secrecy — we thought they would, it would tie in so well with this image of you as some stupid show-off — we think they're biding their time until you're expelled, then they're really going to go to town — I mean, if you're expelled, obviously, you really shouldn't be, not if they abide by their own laws, there's no case against you."

The sound of steps came from outside the door. Fred grabbed his Extendable Ear and both twins vanished. Mrs Weasley appeared.

"The meeting's over, you can come down and have dinner now, everyone's dying to see you, Harry. And who's left all those Dungbombs outside the kitchen door?"

"Crookshanks. He loves playing with them," Ginny said.

"Oh... I thought it might have been Kreacher, he keeps doing odd things like that. Now don't forget to keep your voices down in the hall. Ginny, your hands are filthy, what have you been doing? Go and wash them before dinner, please..."

When the four of them were left alone, Mel had a hard time avoiding Harry's gaze.

"Look..." He started, but Hermione quickly interrupted.

"We knew you'd be angry, Harry, we really don't blame you, but you've got to understand, we did try and persuade Dumbledore —"

"Yeah, I know... Who's Kreacher?" he asked.

"The house-elf who lives here. Nutter— er," Ron looked at Mel with a bit of fear. "I mean, never met one like him."

"He's not a nutter, Ron —" Hermione started.

"His life's ambition is to have his head cut off and stuck up on a plaque just like his mother... Is that normal, Hermione?"

"Well — well, if he is a bit strange, it's not his fault —"

"I found him on the cupboard during my first morning here, he followed me for days thinking I was going to steal the cluttery–!"

"He's just doing his job!"

"Hermione still hasn't given up on spew —"

"It's not 'spew'! It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, and it's not just me, Dumbledore says we should be kind to Kreacher too —"

"Yeah, yeah– C'mon, I'm starving."

Ron and Hermione walked out first, a hand caught her wrist and dragged her back inside. Mel growled loudly, snatching her hand away.

"I'm not a ragdoll, you know?" She snapped.

Harry stepped back, raising his hands in surrender but looking rather decided.

"I want to talk to you."

"I'm glad you're okay but there's nothing to talk about."

"I didn't want you to react like this, I didn't want to hurt you–"

"I don't believe you," Mel replied bluntly, starting to leave. "After all we went through and you had the nerve to tell me you didn't want me close! You told me you didn't like me! Fair enough, for the first time in our lives I think I'll listen and leave you alone."

"You know it was the right thing to do, you're safer this way!" Harry rubbed his neck. "Look, I don't want you to be angry at me– I... I've missed you."

She stopped at the door, looking over her shoulder one last time.

"That's not my fault, is it?" Mel asked coldly. "Oh! And you did a splendid job with the dementors, by the way..."

'Just another thing you no longer need me for...' She thought, conscious of how all of her happy memories had to do with him.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Everything Burns - Chapter One

Story Description: Inside of Scarlett a monster lurked, only once has she let it breath, but that was long time ago. Now she was normal just like anyone else, that is until The Joker smashes his way into her life. She must choose go with the Joker and live a life of anarchy and exhilaration or stay where she is living the life of everyone else, the choice seems simple to her.

This story will include slightly OCC joker as I am writing to him as an evil lunatic but for one girl he is kinder and protective.  If you do not like this kind of Joker do not read any further. 

Also as many DC Fan knows The Jester is already a character, I am aware of this, and I also am aware that he is a vigilante. However, as he is a relatively unknown character I am going to be using his alias in my story as an unconnected person. 

Word count: 2,047

Pairing: Heath Joker X OC

Warnings: Suggestive language, mild violence

---------

Chapter One: The Jester

Her head hung forward as though she were dead. Her body held no tension whatsoever apart from the Cheshire smile plastered across her face. Her long legs stretched out in front of her, resting on the heels of the PVC platform boots she wore. Her arms hung by the handcuffs tethering her to the chair, she was sat in. They were biting into her skin as her body hung forward forcing her arms back, though she didn't seem to notice or even care. The interrogation room was cold and damp, the paint was new and left an unsavoury flavour to the air. Gotham Police Station was recently rebuilt after the explosion just over a year ago.

She had not moved at all since she was placed in that room, nor did she make a sound. She wore make-up not dissimilar to his, but it was smudged and running in places leaving patches of skin bare. The bangs of her midnight black hair hung in front of her face, hiding her eyes from view.

The bells on the ribbons in her hair jingled as the door to the interrogation room was opened.

She did not even attempt to look up as he entered the room, her pose set like a statue.

He was of average height, aged 40 to 50, his dark hair showing signs of grey. He wore a simple suit and pair of glasses. His face was aged beyond his years with a deep heaviness that told of his long work hours and hardships. He was a seemingly unremarkable-looking man, yet to so many, he was an icon of strength and righteousness. His face was grim as he stared at the young woman in front of him.

Behind him hovering in the doorway was a young officer in uniform. He was tall and strong-looking, he looked around uneasily his eyes lingering too long on the girl in the clown getup. He clearly knew exactly who she was.

"Go on," said the older man to him and with a nod the young officer left locking the door behind him.

Finally, the girl looked up at him her smile never ceasing. It was the kind of smile that young children do for a camera, wide and cartoon-like. He dropped a file in front of her, her eyes fell on it and she began to laugh. The sound grew louder and louder until she was bent over in hysteria. It was the kind of laughter people fear, full of desperation and bitterness but most of all insanity.

He sat across from her his eyebrows knitting together in sadness and confusion as to how she had fallen this far, but maybe she hadn't fallen at all maybe she had been in this place all along and was simply hiding all this time.

"Scarlett?" he said softly the laughing instantly stopped and the room echoed with her last laugh. Her gaze went black and the smile fell, this face was far more terrifying than the last.

"YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!" she screamed her voice going unfathomably deep and dark.

"What should I call you then," he asked calmly, trying not to allow his shock to be known.

"Jester," she said simply her face lighting up with that strange smile again and her voice returns to that of a high childlike sing-song manner.

"Is that what he calls you?" he asked his eyes motioning to the holding cell through the door where she had come from, where she knew he still sat, waiting for the right moment, she had no doubts in him, he had never let her down before. Not now, not every. He had broken them out of Arkham, he could get them out of here.

"Yes, sometimes," she said her voice high and happy, her eyes glazed over for a second and a new smile filled her face, it was the first real emotion he had seen in her since she had been taken here. But it faded fast replaced by the skin splitting grin that she was now known for.

"Shall we have a look at your file then, Jester?" he asked but he had already begun to open the file.

"If you wish, Commissioner" she sang his title happily, her eyes never leaving his, internally he shivered.

It had been 23 years ago that Jim Gordon had first met Scarlett Jesterson.

She was only four years old and yet had gone through a lifetime of suffering.

He was a newbie cop when they found her, he was not yet tarnished by the scum of Gotham city. The call had rung in, screams and cries had been heard late last night coming from a shipping container at Gotham Docks.

No one was prepared for what they found inside, but they could hear the child screaming, her voice hoarse. It was early morning, the light was dim, so as the doors opened they pointed their torches inside, the screaming of the child louder than ever.

That moment as he looked inside that container, he realised the true evil of the city he called home, he realised the true evil of humankind.

He doubted that he would ever get over seeing something so hideous and evil, but even worse he worried about that little girl, he knew she would never truly recover from what her young eyes had witnessed.

The doors were pulled fully open and a joint gasp left the lips of all who looked on, a few lost their lunch and others stared unable to look away from the horror inside.

There, in the shipping container was a little girl of maybe 3 or 4 years old, stood in the middle screaming for all she had lost. She was dressed in a pretty light blue frilly dress, but it was stained with blood. From head to toe, she was drenched in thick red claret. She wailed her voice cracking as she held on tightly to a severed head and stared desperately at an empty blood-stained chair in the corner.

The container pooled with blood, the girl soaked through as she stood in the depths of it all. Her face was red from the body that had been slaughtered before her young eyes. Later when the police would identify the that there were in fact 2 victims, the child's mother and another woman. A chainsaw would later be discovered as the murder weapon used to not only kill but completely dismember the bodies.

Gordon had been the only one to tear himself back to reality and rush forward to snatch up the child cradling her in his arms, as the head fell from her grasp and she screamed, he wondered if she would ever truly stop screaming.

The child was cared for at first by a foster parent who though had cared for children with troubling pasts, had never quite had anything as bad as what this little girl had witnessed.

The police would later try to interview the child but she would become hysterical and proved to be far too traumatised to give evidence. After a year of foster care, the child was given to her father, who had been in prison during the murder, for fraud. Gordon was wary of handing the child over as he had become slightly attached to the young girl, as well as her father was a well known English con artist, though it had never been proved with evidence that he was dangerous, Mick Jesterson was well known and feared in the streets of Gotham.

Less than a week later, unable to find any reason to have the child taken away from his care, Mick and his daughter Scarlett returned to England a strange smile on the toddlers face. The murderer with the chainsaw was never found.

To be honest Jim never thought he would see Scarlett again and then just over 11 years later he met a happy well adjusted intelligent 15-year-old girl. She had gained an English accent and showed no signs of her horror-filled childhood. Jim wondered if she didn't remember it, he hoped she didn't remember it.

She had returned to Gotham with her father and his new bride to be, Jackie who had been born and breed in Gotham itself, but Jim suspected other reasons for the Jesterson's return.

Though she seemed happy and as though her past was but a forgotten drop in the ocean, alas it was not. She remembered it, she remembered how the chainsaw sounded as it ripped through her mother's spine, she remembered how her mothers leg still kicked when they were no longer attached to her body, she remembered how her mother had begged for Scarlett to be let go, as her arms were removed. She remembered it all and it tainted her very existence. Gordon wondered sometimes if she had had a normal life would she still become one of Gotham's most wanted criminals and one of Arkham's most notorious patients.

He looked up at the grinning woman in front of him the jagged scar from her bottom lid of her right eye running down to the top of her cheek, looked like the streak of a tear in this light. It led from her right eye which was completely white, as though frosted over. It was a haunting look. He wished that the horrors she had seen had been forgotten just like he thought they had not so long ago. He sighed and she giggled a high squeaky sound.

There was a loud booming sound outside the interrogation room, but Gordon ignored it. The woman in front of him right now was far more important.

"Did he give you that?" Gordon asked motioning to the scar trying not to stare at her haunting eye. He wondered if she could see out of it at all. She seemed to be thinking for a second then she laughed again.

"Yes and no," she said and the grin spread across her face again.

"Does he often hurt you?" asked Gordon as he shut her file.

"When I ask him to" she replied still smiling. "Sometimes I like it rough," she said winking at him.

A laugh was heard over the intercom, it was him, there was no way you wouldn't recognise that manic laugh. The one-way mirror exploded as the bullet hit it. As the dust settled the Joker stepped over the small wall and into the interrogation room. He hit Gordon hard with the butt of his gun as the police officer tried to attack. The older man's body falling to the ground in a heap.

Joker pulled a string of keys out his pocket and approached the girl on the chair.

"Your knight has arrived," he said winking at her and she blushed under her white make-up.

Gordon tried to move as he watched The Joker un-cuff The Jester and help her to her feet. If they hadn't been wanted murderous psychopaths the scene would have been almost cute as she pecked The Joker on the cheek and thanked him. Jim's head was swimming and he couldn't focus as he tried to stop them.

"Come on gorgeous, our ride is waiting," said the Joker to his girlfriend who simply nodded and held onto his hand.

"This has been fun Jim, we should do it again sometime," said The Jester as she and The Joker made their way back over the small wall and out of the interrogation room.

The police station was filled with dust from the explosion the Joker had used to free himself and Jester. They ran out of the station and into the van that was waiting outside, the driver did not need to be told as he floored the accelerator and the van took off down the street.

Scarlett looked over at the painted face next to her and grinned he looked back and mirrored her expression.

"I do love, that smile," he said to her as he pulled her onto his lap, and slipped his arm around her waist.

"Same here!" she said happily before the pair kissed his red lipstick mixing with her purple.

The Joker pulled away and rested his head on Jester's forehead and grinned madly at her and she laughed.

[katie-dub]

A Special Day of Mourning

Fleabag Fic

Summary: Last time a wedding brought us together, this time it's a funeral. Still the tragic loss of Godmother in a freak accident involving a falling wall of plaster of paris penises has got to be good for something, right?

AO3

Yes, I’m back with more Fleabag x the Priest fic. Thank you as ever to the delightful @eirabach for reading this for me, when she doesn’t even go here! I love you darling.

15 Years Later

So last time you saw me, I was sending my sister off to go get the hot Finn who was crazy about her after my almost boyfriend the actual Priest delivered a terrifying homily about love at Dad’s wedding to the ever repellent Godmother. The Priest broke my heart when he chose God over me and exited pursued by a fox.

Since then I found love, tried the whole marriage thing, had a child, realised I was surprisingly good at motherhood but less so at being married and am now amicably divorced. I still touch myself thinking about that one night with the Hot Priest who was the first man I ever loved, unless of course you count Leonardo DiCaprio, which I don’t.

Claire and Klare have three terrifyingly beautiful children and she actually smiles constantly now. It was disconcerting at first, but after all this time, I think I’m used to it.

Dad’s still alive and kicking, at 88 years of age. Godmother, however, is not. She passed away in a freak accident involving a falling wall of plaster of paris penises at her sexhibition two weeks ago. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.

Before The Funeral

I walk up to Dad’s house with my Daughter in tow. She’s 11 and has already entered her awkward teenage years a whole two years early. Fucking overachiever.

That’s not to say that she isn’t the light of my life, the apple of my eye and all other appropriate cliches. It’s just that I can finally appreciate how really fucking annoying teenage girls can be. And she hasn’t even started her period yet.

We ring the doorbell and I hum “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” very softly under my voice. If there’s a hell, I’m almost certainly heading there.

Claire answers the door. “Hello, are you ready for this sad, sad, sad day?”

“I’ve brought the champagne!” I reply, lifting the bottle I bought especially. Just to toast to our dearly departed Godmother in the manner she would have wanted, of course.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Claire says, eyeing me suspiciously.

“You know grief does wonders for my complexion, I can’t help it!” And if there’s an extra spring in my step at the thought of finally being free of Godmother, well you can hardly blame me.

I deliberately take a moment to compose myself. I do feel for Dad, burying his second wife has got to be monumentally shit, even if he is better off without her.

“Wait,” Claire tugs on my arm urgently, bringing me to a halt.

“Is everything OK?”

“Your Priest is in there,” Claire murmurs in an undertone, her lips barely moving.

I’m struggling to follow her meaning. “What?”

“You know, your Priest, the one you - you know?” Oh. Oh! “He’s in there with Dad, comforting him, he’s conducting the funeral. I just thought you might need some warning.”

I wonder if he’s still hot. “Is he still hot?”

“Painfully hot,” she says with a grim nod and a tone that implies catastrophe. “He’s also still a man of god, so just don’t fuck him again ok?”

“I do have some restraint! That said, he was really fucking good at it. I’m single again, why not hey?”

Claire’s jaw is tight. It’s fun to know that I can still wind her up like this at the age of nearly 50. “I mean it,” she pleads sincerely, “I know I wasn’t around much last time with Finland and everything, but I could tell how much that hurt you then and I don’t want to have to kick a Priest’s arse for hurting my little sister.”

There’s a steely glint in her eye that makes it clear she means it, and I find myself deeply touched. I swallow down a lump in my throat and shrug, an “if you say so” gesture. “Didn’t know you cared.”

She nods. “Right. Oh also, Godmother is in there.”

“Wait, Godmother? Like her body?”

“Yes, it’s a whole art thing apparently.” Claire says “art thing” like it’s an infectious disease. “Transparent coffin. It’s horrendous.”

We walk into the living room, Dad is sat on the sofa, head in his hands, the Priest is beside him, an arm around his shoulder. His neck is still beautiful.

And right where the coffee table should be, a transparent coffin, with Godmother inside, wrapped in some kind of hot pink monstrosity.

“Oh holy fuck,” I shout, stopping abruptly at the sight.

Claire somehow avoids crashing into me and steps around me muttering “I did warn you” under her voice.

I shake myself, forcing my feet to take me further into the room. I drag my eyes away from Godmother, seeking out Dad to comfort him, and I’m greeted by the sight of my Priest’s warm smile turned on me.

He has more wrinkles and his once dark hair is now salt and pepper, but age hasn’t changed one fundamental fact: he is deeply, unfairly hot. Lucky bastard.

And he looks pleased to see me, which I’ll admit does good things to my ego, I may be a divorcee fast approaching 50, but maybe I’m not completely unfuckable yet. Or maybe this is just a genuine friendly smile for a former lover. Either way, it’s a happy surprise.

“Hello,” he says, “I’m sorry to leave just as you’re getting here -” his eyes suggest that this comment is sincere “- but I need to be on my way to the church.” He grips my arm briefly as he moves past me, a small gesture of comfort that nonetheless sends a little shiver of anticipation through me. I’m surprised that even after all this time he can affect me like this. “I’m sorry for your loss, but it is lovely to see you.”

“You too,” I agree, “I’ll see you at the church.” He nods and heads out of the door.

Oh fuck, the church.

The last time I was in that church I was trying to wrestle him out of his clothes. I’ve never been back. Not inside it at least, although I may have dawdled outside it on more than one occasion. And now I have to sit through Godmother’s funeral there, all the time thinking about the way he ordered me to “kneel” in the confessional. Maybe about when he repeated that command in my house and I sucked him off.

I try to distract myself with other thoughts, but the only thing to look at is the coffin. It really is hideous, and not so much because it's a dead body, but that pink is a bit much and the embroidery on it looks suspiciously like - "is that funeral shroud really covered in fornicating skeletons?" I ask, looking to Claire in the hopes of hearing a sensible "no".

"It is," she confirms, her mouth a hard-set line of disapproval.

"Well fuck me."

The Funeral Procession

We didn’t do a funeral procession for Mum when it was her funeral. It was too over the top and showy for her. So of course Godmother insisted.

I’m packed into a car with Dad and Daughter driven by the Shepherd of the Deceased, as the man insisted on being called (I can see why Godmother liked him, but what's wrong with just calling yourself a funeral director?). Claire and her family are in the car behind us. We inch down the roads painfully slowly, surely pissing off half of London as we follow the hearse to the church.

My heart pounds at the sight of the church, a feeling that quickly gives way to confusion as we continue to drive past it. “Where the fuck are we going?”

“Language,” tuts my Daughter, and I’m tempted to stick my tongue out at her. I promise, I really am a good mum. Usually.

“No seriously, haven’t we just gone past the church?”

“Hmmm? Er, wh-what’s that dear?” asks Dad distracted and distraught and I’m beyond bewildered.

We pull up outside an entirely unfamiliar church, and it occurs to me that my Priest must have been moved to a new parish. All this time avoiding his church and he doesn’t even work there now.

I get out of the car and help Dad to do the same. I walk to the front door and that’s when I see the sign: St Jude’s Anglican Church.

Anglican?

What. The. Fuck?

The Funeral

There’s no chance for me to confront the Priest about his conversion before the service, so I sit by Dad’s side during it and stew on this startling revelation.

Anglican. He’s Anglican now, and so, apparently, no longer celibate. Not that he did all that well at the whole celibacy thing while I was around.

Does this mean he’s available? Or did he leave the Catholic Church for someone else, someone who he loved enough to really be with, someone who he is still with now?

I realise this sounds like I spent the past 15 years and all of my marriage pining for an unavailable man, when honestly, I haven’t. But it’s still something of a head fuck to discover that he is no longer forbidden fruit. The possibility of that is delicious, while also giving me doubts about what we ever had.

Like I said, a head fuck.

I can’t help but think, looking at his outfit with its minimalist design, that he must miss the robes from Catholicism. You can say what you like about their beliefs, but those Catholics have got style.

"Sometimes I worry that I'm only in it for the outfits," he'd said that night in the church, the alcohol and desire for me driving him to doubt himself. Well, he proved that wrong, didn't he?

A cameraman zooms in on my face and I find myself looking to camera, startled, before realising that I should probably focus on looking rather more distraught at Godmother’s death and rather less intrigued by the possibility of fucking the Priest again.

Trust Godmother to hire a camera crew to film her own fucking funeral.

The Wake

"I'm very interested in the conflict of my mortality, the desire to cheat death expressed in my pursuit of sexual pleasure with its promise of rebirth," Godmother narrates in her death video. "My custom-made burial shroud is a culmination of these desires, the fabric interwoven with fungal spores such that in my passing, new life springs anew."

I feel a presence beside me and assuming it's Claire, start to talk over Godmother's incessant monologue. "Is she calling death an STI? I think that's almost profound."

"Fucked if I know," a decidedly male Irish brogue replies. I turn to look at the Priest. "Sounds like a load of wank to me."

"That's Godmother in a nutshell," I agree and he laughs appreciatively.

"I'm not sure how those fungi will survive inside a sealed perspex coffin. Don't they need air?"

"Fucked if I know," I echo him with a shrug. "Still prefer funerals to weddings?"

"Generally, yes. You know I believe that we're going somewhere wonderful in the next life. This funeral has given me pause though."

"It's a bit much, isn't it?" I'm not quite sure what to say next, the thing I desperately want to say feels wildly inappropriate.

"I'm not Catholic anymore." I’m surprised by how direct he's been. "I just thought I'd put it out there. Although that now sounds like an awful chat up line, which it's not - "

"Well fuck you then," I say, trying to brush off the hurt of that decisive shutting down of my half-formed hopes.

"If you insist." There's a twinkle in his eye now. Maybe I've misread things.

"Are you propositioning me, Father?"

"You know, I think I might be."

"Mum! Mu-um!"

Of course, of fucking course, kids are the ultimate cock block. The Priest looks awkward, I probably do too. I swear he's trying to surreptitiously look at my ring finger so I use my hands in a way that probably resembles a muppet to show off how attached I'm not.

"Everything OK, darling?"

"Dad's here to take me to his place, says he's not comfortable leaving without speaking to you first." Daughter rolls her eyes. I wish I could do the same.

My ex is so considerate. What a prick.

"Sorry, Father, I have to go talk to my Ex." Had to get in that confirmation of my relationship status, just so he has all the facts. "We'll talk when I get back?"

"I'll be waiting," he says with a smile.

It takes longer than I'm totally happy with to wrap things up with my Ex. Unfortunately he's busy being concerned about my dad and asking practical questions about homework and after school clubs and I can't exactly tell him that I'm a bit busy seducing a Priest to talk.

It takes me a while to track him down when I finally escape, but I find him hiding and having a fag in the same secret corner where we once shared stolen kisses. Honestly I can't decide if it's romantic or a little pathetic that we're back here and history's potentially going to repeat itself.

Hopefully not to the same bitter conclusion.

I pull out my own fag and the Priest offers me a light. Leaning close to his hands I feel the same rush of anticipation I did back then, my heart fluttering at his presence like no time has passed at all.

"So," he starts, then breaks off.

"So," I agree with a nod. "I'm a mum - a single mum, and you're a hopefully single, no longer celibate man."

"I am."

There's a long silence that's almost deafening with its intensity.

"So what made you -" "I'm sorry I didn't -"

We both start speaking at once, stop and stare at each other for a minute then I gesture for him to speak.

"I'm sorry I didn't leave for you," he says, then looks me right in the eye. "I hope you know that it's not that I didn't love you, I just, I needed time to figure things out."

"I know. I knew that then too. So what did make you convert in the end?"

"The sex. I was really, really gagging for it," he deadpans. I snort with laughter, he waits for me to calm down before he carries on. "Honestly it did start with meeting you -”

“Me and my blasphemous tits.”

“Yeah.” He smirks at me, then looks a little sad. “I felt lost after we stopped - after I ended things.” He shakes his head and looks at me, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I was so lonely when we met and you came into my life and we just connected so deeply and I fell so hard for you.”

Oh fuck, I am not prepared for this conversation.

“No, don’t disappear, not now.” He takes my hand and waits for me to focus on him, so I try my best to fight against how overwhelmed I feel and to stay in the moment with him.

“I know that you don’t believe what I do, but I really do believe that God is love. 'Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him.' That's what the Bible says. It just didn’t make sense to me that I could be so full of love and that that was a bad thing, something to be ashamed of. Isn’t love meant to be a wonderful gift from God?”

I can feel the tightness in my jaw, a prickle of tears, I seem to have forgotten how to breathe.

“As time went on the intensity of my love for you faded, but that seed of doubt was planted. Not in God, not in Him, but in the word of the Catholic church. A different denomination of Christianity would allow me to marry you, to celebrate our love, there’s nothing in the bible to say that we shouldn’t.”

These words hang heavy between us and there’s a long pause, while he takes a long drag on his cigarette and lets the smoke slowly drift out of his parted lips.

“Over time I noticed more and more of these inconsistencies and one day a teenage boy asked me for forgiveness for falling in love with his male best friend and I just couldn’t … I couldn’t understand why he needed it. I couldn’t in all good faith follow the teachings of the Catholic church and stay true to what I believe.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You wanted to marry me? It'll take more than that to make an honest woman of me."

He chuckles. “I don’t know. If we could've dated and my feelings stayed as they were? Maybe. I wanted the option.”

"When did you leave?"

"Four years ago."

"Did you -" oh wow, it's so hard to ask this, but I need to know. "Did you ever think of telling me?"

"No."

Fuck me that hurts. I drop my cigarette to the floor, study it as I stomp down on it to make sure that the fire is out. It’s my way of deflecting from the sudden urge to cry. He gently lifts my chin with his finger, bringing my face up to look at his.

"I knew you were married. Your stepmum said."

"Was she a dick about it?"

"Of course. Still, you were unavailable. What good would telling you have done?" He's right. I was still married when he converted, it was for the best.

"I saw you once with him. Or I think it was him."

"Am I detecting a smidge of jealousy there, Father?"

"Oh fuck off.” He didn’t deny it. “A parishioner had died and I just, I really needed a friend and I thought of you. You just got me so well, you know? I went to Hillarys and you were there in the arms of this man and you looked so happy that I just couldn't ruin that for you. I shouldn't have gone. Not when I didn't know if I could trust myself around you."

"And what about now?"

"Well I'm allowed to kiss you now, I don't need to worry about trusting myself."

"That's true. So do you want to come over to my place for a friendly game of strip poker?" He laughs at me, shaking his head while smirking. "Spin the bottle?" That devilish gleam appears in his eyes. "Seven minutes in heaven - or is that considered blasphe -"

He cuts me off with his lips on mine.

It’s everything I remembered and so much more. Intense, passionate, devastating kisses that drive me to cliches straight out of a romance novel. Pushed up against that wall my heart races, my chest heaves, and, yes, my knickers get fucking wet.

It feels just like it did 15 years ago. It feels like love. And that’s insane, we had barely even started when things ended between us and I’ve lived and loved so much since then. But this thing between us? It just feels right.

My body is on fire, I’m pretty sure it’s in the good, aroused way and not because God’s smiting me for defiling a priest. He’s a tad late to the punishment, if that was His plan. But I’ll happily let this fire consume me because it feels so good. After all this time, I never want what we’re sharing to end. But the need to breathe becomes too strong and we break apart, noses nuzzling and foreheads resting together.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” he asks but I’m so staggered by our kisses I barely hear what he’s said.

“What?” I breathe out in between pants.

“Let me take you to dinner tonight,” he says, stroking my cheek before leaning in for another dizzying kiss.

"Oh, I don't know," I pretend to be thinking hard. "Sounds a bit tame, I did have plans with a rabbi for a good hard fuck."

He barks out a laugh. "Oh really?"

"Yeah and tomorrow's my night getting spanked by an imam."

He raises his eyebrows holding back a laugh at what I'm saying and playing along. "What about Friday?"

"Threesome with a pujari and a Buddhist monk."

"What if I upgraded my offer to dinner and if you're really good you get dessert?" He ran his tongue along his lips.

"And what if I'm really bad?"

"You'll have to get on your knees and pray for forgiveness."

It's ridiculous how easily this man can turn me on. Although I have kneeled for him before, I remember the effect.

"I could be tempted to agree," I say, affecting disinterest.

"But you'll have to dump your harem of religious leaders," he all but growls.

"Oh I don't -"

He slams his mouth into mine, pushing me back against the wall, cutting me off with a fierce kiss. He trails his lips along my jaw to my ear. "Please," he murmurs, then kisses down my neck and pushes my collar to one side to suck and lick where it meets my shoulder. That fire starts up inside me again, his mouth almost painfully good against me, driving me to the brink of madness until I'm half tempted to push his trousers down and fuck him against the wall where anyone could see.

“OK,” I pant. "I - I guess I can do that."

"Good girl," he growls into my ear, then pulls away, righting my collar as he does, to hide the bruise he's surely worked into my skin. “We should probably get back before they start looking for us.”

And he steps back from me, innocent smirk on his face.

"I'm going to make you pay for that," I say, trying to sound commanding, although I'm so breathless that the effect is lost.

"Oh please do," he says with a grin.

We head back towards the party and one important thing occurs to me. “If you’re Anglican now, why did you do Godmother’s funeral? Isn't she Catholic?”

“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t think she was really all that interested in the religious side of being a Catholic.”

“Oh yes, she wanted one of those religion-free faiths.”

“Exactly. She may have intimated to me that she would very much like for me to conduct her funeral when her time came because her funeral should be a thing of beauty.”

I snort with laughter. “I didn’t realise it was possible to be vain from beyond the grave, but if anyone was going to find a way it was her.”

“You won’t hear me complaining - she brought me back to you.”

“She finally did right by me, she’ll be so disappointed.”

[queerchoicesblog]

Ghost of You (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele)

So this is my very first SC Titanic fanfic: I am excited to post it and well I suppose I should warn you that probably Zetta x Adele fictions will be rather long as this love story features themes that are very dear and meaningful to me, such as 1. well, obviously the Titanic story, 2. references to beginning of the century cinema (love very old and b&w movies), 3. sapphism and 4. femminism/suffragette movement. It’s basically everything I could have ever asked for. The Gentleman Jack fans out there might find a reference here...

So here I tried to imagine what brought Zetta to write that little note to Adele after basically disappearing. Loved that scene and I had to try and portray her turmoil, her missing Adele but also, as any historical lesbian (maybe not only historical), fearing the strings of society and their effect on their love and her beloved suffragette. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I quoted some pieces of dialogue from the original book

Word Count: 2555

Zetta x Adele Tag: @marmolady @animus-and-anima @hayley-carter19 @escako @everlastingchoices @andrxrneda @aestheticsayeed @eleanorwaverrley @indescribablechoices @ahrielstuff @lvcley @nazario-sayeed

________________________

Two rapid knocks on the door then:

“Are you there, doll? Can I come in?”

Richard’s voice abruptly brought Zetta’s back to reality, involuntarily making her jump in her seat.  She blinked twice as if wakingg from a dream and took a quick look around. She couldn’t recall how long she had been sitting at her vanity lost in her thoughts with a brush in her hand. She just couldn’t focus that day as she was haunted by memories of the past. But Richard didn’t have to know, mustn’t have to know. She put down the brush and quickly fixed her hair before adjusting her robe to limit the skin exposure to the minimum: after all, they weren’t married yet…and her heart didn’t belong to Mr. King. Only after that, she answered loud enough to be heard on the other side of the ebony door:

“Sure, darling”

She resumed her interrupted makeup session, pretending to be fully taken by that routine that didn’t bring her the usual joy anymore. She looked at herself in the mirror and put on a practiced smile: it would have been enough to fool her fiancé.

Richard entered her boudoir and theatrically opened his arms as a seasoned professional: he mentioned that he started as an actor before becoming a stellar director.

“My love, every time I see you I’m completely blinded by your beauty. You’re the brightest star in the sky, even brighter than Venus itself” he said moving closer and kneeling beside her chair.

“…And you’re gonna be the most radiant woman at the party tonight. The belle of the ball, la plus belle” he added, courtly taking her free hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

He looked up at her with a dashing smile.

“Trés charmant, Richard…but are you done with poetry?” she smirked, retrieving her hand and resuming her previous core.

“Ah, la belle dame sans merci!” Richard exclaimed before falling back to the floor holding a hand on his chest.

“Silly” Zetta laughed and she was soon joined by Richard who stood again and leaned on her table.

“I can’t help it around you, doll, apologies” he shrugged, flashing her another smile.

Zetta had to summon all her acting expertise not to cringe at “doll”. She hated it when every fiber of her being when Richard -or any other men- called her “doll”. Even her first director called her so, even her husband…doll, as if that was all she was to them: a beautiful toy, maybe a collectible but not truly a woman. Not truly Zetta.

Instead, she mirrored his smile and threw him a quick look before methodically applying some rouge on her cheek.

“So, what are you dying to say that can’t wait?”

“Seeing you isn’t a reasonable excuse?”

Richard was a charming man, without doubt. He wasn’t a bad man or so it seemed to her but she had been deceived by men who swore to only want the best for her that it was hardly possible for Zetta to fully trust any of them. And a man could have never won her heart.

As she flashed him just one of her enigmatic smile, he spoke again:

“Fine, you got me: I just wanted to see you and to remind you that our producers are expecting us at Rao’s for dinner in an hour. We should leave soon” he gave an apologetic smile and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Will we be there in time?”

“We will, I promise you” Zetta confirmed then made a show of shooing him away. “Now shoo, call Sabine and let me get dressed or else we will be late”

Richard raised his arms in surrender, laughing. Then he pressed a kiss on the crown of her head.

“I’ll get off of your hair, doll”

Zetta resumed her makeup as Richard moved towards the door. He was halfway out when

“Oh I almost forgot! I spoke to Alan yesterday and he loved the movie: the story of the two sisters reunited in the midst of chaos on the sinking ship is just perfect, so heart-warming-“

“Yes, it truly is heart-warming” Zetta commented, losing focus again.

“The story is real, right? You met at least one of them on board, didn’t you?”

Zetta’s voice lowered as memories started surfacing back.

“Yes, we were…rather close”

“If they survived, we should track them down and invite them at the movie: it would be great if they could talk to the press. Journalists love stories like this: I can see the headlines alrea-“

“We’ll see, Richard. Now please go call Sabine”

She tried to keep her voice from betraying her feelings, but she could feel a rush of anger surging. She would have never handed the Carrem sisters and such a private and tragic moment of their lives to those shameless sharks who go under the name of journalists. The subtle hint of heartbreak and they prey the unfortunate victims like vultures over a corpse: they wouldn’t stop until they had dissected those aching hearts, leaving them to bleed out. No, she would have done everything in her power to prevent this.

The story she wrote down when asked to bring the grim fate of the Titanic on the big screen was fiction: inspired by true facts but fiction. Zetta was smart enough to know that life and fiction are two separate things and that an edulcorated tale of those most tragic hours was all the world could take: the people of New York, who weren’t there that night, would have been overwhelmed by the real story.

Still, when she sat at her desk and started writing a draft of the script her mind immediately turned to…Adele.

She didn’t even notice Richard leaving the room as the silhouette of Miss Carrem clouded her thoughts. Finally alone, her face fell and she shut her eyes as if to prevent the memory from fading away.

Adele, most gracious, fearless Adele…

Her lips curled into a sad smile as she reminisced their first meeting. She was sitting in her suite smoking and listening to James making some pointless speech when the door opened and Teo stepped in followed by Adele. She had the beauty of a Greek goddess and the look of someone who was going through a lot. She clearly felt out of place among finely dressed first-class passengers in the lavish room but she kept her head high. Zetta remembered feeling the urge to know what troubled her but she put on her mask, the sardonic film star ever out of reach. And then…was it a brave move or just an insane one? Adele told her of her arrest, of prison. Everyone else would have hidden from her, a new employer and Zetta Serda…not Adele. She handed her everything she needed to destroy her life as if it was no big deal. Zetta was taken aback and searched her green eyes for any sign of mockery but find none: the stranger girl truly trusted her with her life. That’s when she realized how unique Miss Carrem was.

Adele found a way to her heart effortlessly as if she had the map from the very start. When she placed her hand over hers in the projection room, she startled Zetta: whenever she had made the fatal mistake to show her vulnerable side to anyone, they would have used it against her to make her feel weak or small…clearly in need of someone who would tell her what to do, to guide her. They would have refilled her glass with wine again and again instead of going for the simplest gesture: taking her hand into theirs and comfort her. Making her believe with that touch that everything would have been fine, and she was stronger than whatever life threw her.

For a moment, as Adele held her hand, she felt safe, pacified, something she had never experienced with any of her supposed lovers. She couldn’t even be mad at her secretary when she revealed her James’ plan and the true reason behind his bailing her out of jail. She was shocked, obviously but she also couldn’t believe that Adele, brave foolish Adele, had put her life into her hands again. “I’m perfectly aware of the risk I’m taking by revealing this to you but you deserve to know. I cannot keep this from you” she said, looking her right in the eye.

Those eyes…they took Zetta’s breath away whenever they ignited with the fire sparking inside her. She could have lost herself in their green depths when they gleamed with pride and mischief as she proposed a toast to the vote to women or whenever their eyes met. She got lost in them when their lips touched, and they grew dark with desire. How daring and foolish they had been in the Turkish baths…but she couldn’t bring herself to regret that moment of ecstasy when she felt free and truly loved, for once. She could still shiver remembering Adele’s touch, the way her lips traced down her body with reverence and adoration, the soft moans the tender girl in her arms suffocated hiding her face in the crook of her neck as she melted under her caresses. In those stolen embraces she knew happiness.

How happy she felt whenever Adele was around: just exchanging a brief look across the room would make her heart flutter.

Then other memories surged and Zetta felt tears welling her closed eyes. Her birthday night, that cursed birthday night…Adele and her sneaking away from the party to find a private spot on the deck. The wine, the cold breeze of the ocean, Adele’s silvery laughter at her tipsy enthusiasm, how she craved those sweet lips all night.

“If I’m honest, I don’t even want to reach shore, I don’t want to go back to the party…I just want to stay out here with you. Forever.”

Adele’s tender smile in agreement.

“Let’s just make a tent of this blanket – we can live off seal meat and rainwater”

Her tipsy proposal made the two of them laugh again.

“What about your acting career?” Adele inquired, a smile lingering on her face.

“We’ll make our own plays. Whaddya say?”

God, how those words sounded different now…how she would have given everything to have Adele there to cup her face and give her a slow, deep kiss. But Adele wasn’t by her side anymore…she lost sight of her when her agent and Richard dragged her and James away from the crowd at the New York pier.

She hadn’t written her ever since that day and she felt so impossibly guilty because of that: Adele must have thought she had forgotten about her after all her words of love on the ship. Maybe she felt used, maybe she hated her by now and cursed the memory of her. She would have reasons to hold a grudge to her…the truth was that happiness and love are hard to accept if you have never truly had them before and if they came from a woman loving another woman.

Zetta had tried to write her a thousand time but every time she had made an effort to put her feelings into words, her lines rang hollow. Yet the words that got stuck in her throat when Adele pulled her into a corner and confessed that no matter what happened that night she needed to tell that she loved her were clear in her mind.

The months spent parted from you are the saddest time of my life. I’m haunted by you, the ghost of you. You’re everywhere: even if I’m silent, not an hour passed where I haven’t thought of you. I tried not to, but whenever I closed my eyes, there you were. I love you and I can’t live without you, without your smile, your wit, your touch. I just can’t but how can I ask you to be with me in the dark? I can’t step back from this wedding and I don’t want you to be a secret mistress: that would squalid and offensive when you are the one I want to give all of me. To marry, if that was even a possibility for us so that I could spend every single day of my life with you, waking up with you by my side, taking care of you…making you happy. Your absence makes even breathing hard, not to mention smiling to strangers, “capitalist pigs” as you would say…I even try and talk like you do, you see? But I find myself wondering: will I make you happy if I have to hide our love from the world? Kiss you only behind closed doors? Let you see me marry a man? You’re a free spirit, my love, I don’t want to put you in a cage because our love, our pure love would be a scandal and a scandal would ruin everything I worked for since I was even younger than you. I don’t want you to spend your life as a ghost yet I find myself craving to see your face one more time as living without you is barely surviving but all the light has gone as I lost you.

Suddenly she felt someone placing their hands on her shoulders.

“Let me help you here, Madame”

She opened her eyes and saw Sabine, smiling sympathetically down at her. She tried and failed to mirror her smile as her mascara was now running down her cheeks.

Sabine helped her to her feet and took care of everything. Zetta let her washed up her face and helped her into her shiny evening dress: she felt like a child in the hands of a loving mother. When she was putting on her earrings, the final touch, Sabine handed her a small stack of envelopes.

“The invitations to the movie screening and party” she explained. “It’s October first, I would suggest to send them first thing tomorrow to ensure that everyone get the invitation within reasonable notice. It wasn’t easy to find all the addresses, but I did my best”

“I’m sure you did, Sabine. Thank you for taking care of it.” Zetta said as she checked the succession of familiar names of former passengers and famous colleagues. “I will sign them personally when we come back from the party”.

“Excellent” Sabine nodded.

Then as Zetta placed the stack on her desk, she presented her a single envelope.

“I hope you don’t mind if I requested a faster delivery for this one” she added before bowing her head curtly and leaving the room. “Have a nice evening, Madame”

Zetta read the name handwritten on the last envelope where a different stamp had been appointed.

‘Mademoiselle Adele Carrem’

A lump formed in her throat but she forced herself not to cry and just smile, mentally thanking Sabine: she had found her. Following nothing else but her instinct, Zetta picked out the invitation and signed it with her fountain pen. Then, as Richard called her name, she grabbed a slip of paper and wrote a brief note:

“Please come, my love. I must see you again. Yours, Zetta”.

She folded everything back into the envelope and finally left her room as a newfound hope kindled inside her.

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {18}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter: 17. Never Again  A/N:

Sorry readers for another month long hiatus. I was busy with Helsa Week and then got a little lazy to edit and now I’ve got so many more chapters to edit. Oof. I hope to get some more chapters edited and post them before I get swept away by Helsa Week 2.0.

18. ‘Bullshit’

It was evening by the time, the Captain finally got the chance to go check in with Hans. He wanted to discuss how the first meeting with the guard had gone in private. As well as making sure he hadn't hurt himself too much during their impudent demonstration. He knocked on the door like he usually did, before entering the room. "How ya faring Westergaard?" He questioned. "Hopefully the doc wasn't too angry."

Hans seemed deep in thought, but jarred by the Captain's intrusion, and curious. 

 "Hm? Oh no. I didn't mention it to him, the pain went away, and this time there were no stitches to rip open, so I suppose as long as I don't collapse in a heap somewhere in the next day or so, I'll be fine." Hans suggested lightly. "Still, not a wise thing I did, but I purport to be many things, wise isn't among them. What brings you here, Captain? I didn't expect to see you again today."

 Still, he was using titles. He didn't dress like a prince now any more than he had when he arrived by boat, all cotton shirts and sailor's trousers, looking more like a young pirate than an ex-admiral, let alone a prince. Still, there were untold years of experience in his eyes. Experience with sadness, with death, with anger and fury and complex sinister tidings, but he seemed so baffled by the concept of being liked. The cheers of the men still bothered him, somehow. They were good and positive and gave him positive feelings, yes, he was still a human; but he also felt saddened, because he didn't feel he deserved them-- or ever could. Those thoughts, he wouldn't burden the Captain with. Not for the moment, that hadn't been what he asked. He didn't want to make the Captain worry, any more than he wanted Elsa to worry for him. But he also didn't feel the need to disguise his thoughtfulness as playful banter or 'just thinking' or put on a happy face, as he might with Elsa. The Captain was a man, and a workhorse at that. He would surely know these same depths of thought?

The Captain slightly tilted his head and cocked his brow, at the distraught glazing over Hans, the Prince's eyes clearly reflecting his self-doubt.

  "Thought it went rather well today, but it looks like you use a drink, a heavy one at that," suggested the Captain. "It was your own advice to the men, was it not? And you know what? You should take your own advice too. If you're well enough to fight, I think, you're well enough to drink. Come on Westergaard, I'll treat you to that drink," he urged. " I wish to chat with you as men, it's kinda hard to do that in this stuffy room." The Captain wasn't going to senselessly allow Hans seep into those dark thoughts alone, if he could help it.

Hans hummed a bit, tone still light but face unmatching, until he heaved himself up to his feet, as one might on a ship; a lazy but graceful movement, like a cat's casual saunter or a bird of prey's lazy low swoop.

 "I'll warn you, Captain. I'm either very grim or very childish, and little in-between. And, I'm not above a challenge." He joked wryly, settling a bit. He took off his sword and set it on the bureau again. "In the Isles there are shelves in the taverns for weapons, but we're a little old-fashioned. I imagine it's not the custom here." He would adapt; weapons while drinking was an awful idea.

The Captain smiled a bit, that Hans had accepted his invitation without too much coaxing. 

 "Hope, I won't regret the invite later," he chuckled.

  He nodded. "Not in Arendelle." 

 The Captain escorted Hans over to the town tavern, it was a leisurely walk away. 

 "So take your pick Westergaard?" The Captain stated, as they arrived taking a seat. "Curious to know what kind of drink you'll choose."

"I'm a man of the sea, what do you think I'd pick?" Hans pointed out wryly. "Rum, of course. The stronger the better. Ale for when you're thirsty, rum for when you have a thirst, ey?" Drinks, not women. That had a different prescription. 

 "You know, I think you're the only person I know who calls me by my last name alone, not some title. I think I could get used to it." He mused idly, leaning somewhat on his arm in the booth. He still looked terribly casual, it was easy to forget that he was a prince, and indeed easy to forget any rank he'd had. It almost looked more like the Captain was grabbing up a wayward young man from the street to teach him a few life lessons. 

 "You remind me a little of Captain Janssen. Only a little, of course. He's old enough that he seemed just as old when he was snatching me up out of the water by the back of my shirts grumbling about 'neglecting princely duties' I didn't have." He seemed amused by the old memories, but there was still that look of bitter-sweetness about it. "But, I suppose it's just the familiarity. You're not afraid to tell me when I'm being a shit, sometimes we all need someone like that."

"Of course, I should have figured," chuckled the Captain. "Is that so? Well, someone's gotta keep you grounded."

  "You're first and foremost a man it's easy to forget that if you don't have something keeping you in check," he stated, and paused before transitioning. "And on that note, I think you did rather well in keeping the men in line today. It didn't go without a hitch that's for sure, but I think you really got through to them. You got them in a fighting spirit, you sure got a way with people, boy, --and I say that in the best way possible-- that it makes me almost envious. When you speak to them you get really down-to-earth, you weren't on some sort of high horse, you really show them that you're one of them, which is true because you're not just a soldier but a fellow man sworn to protect Arendelle just like them, and that in itself is rather respectable." The Captain was trying his best to get through to Hans, ease those doubts he may have, if he planned on being a good teacher to the guard he had to believe in himself first.

"Aye, there's the rub," Hans pointed out, ordering a drink as easily as a native to the country, "I'm not 'sworn' to a damn thing. I protect Arendelle because I have sins to pay for, and I like your country. Were I truly a bastard, I'd use this opportunity. I am, against what your men might think, the same man who raised a sword to kill the Queen. I'd be more comforted if your men were still suspicious. This tells me there's much to teach them. I may be truthful this time, yes, but how otherwise is this different from last?" Hans couldn't help but be disquieted at the notion. 

 "I've got an idea for training tomorrow. Another kind of test. Nothing physical, I'll sit and clean swords while the men do physical training, and talk. I'd like to test them. And you." He leaned back a bit as his drink was brought, looking bothered still. "It's not that I'm upset to be liked, per se. I'm vexed that it was so easy to get in again, like before. As easy as the first time, like nothing has been learnt." He leaned back, waiting for the Captain to get his drink. 

 "Even on a ship, I worked to be an admiral. My name could have gotten me a strong position, but I started scrubbing decks and moved up from there, and hit every position on the way. I may have hit admiral young, but damned if I didn't at least land on every job on the way." He was determined to do that, at least. "Damned if I'll be a useless shit, demanding ranks I never deserved." He scoffed at the thought.

The Captain ordered his drink, and it arrived shortly after. "You may not be sworn to Arendelle in the same sense as the rest of us, that's true, but that blade of yours says otherwise," he pointed out, grabbing hold of his drink. 

 "I see where you're coming from, the men were very spirited today, that's for certain, but I'm sure there's still lingering doubt among them. Just because the group as a whole looked determined it don't mean all the individuals are fully convinced. Some men aren't as open to expressing their concerns in public. Don't think just because they're willing to give you a chance that it won't be a challenge. They seemed to warm up to you, but trust doesn't come that easily, not when everyone is well aware of what you've done. They haven't forgotten, what you did is sorta hard to neglect. But then again, you did call for a clean slate and that also includes yours as well," he mentioned with a nod.

 "What's the difference this time you ask? There's many differences for sure, but the main one is 'never again'." The Captain was using Hans' own words against him.

 "If you are any kind of bastard now, it's definitely a stubborn one. I don't know if it's an Isles thing or if it's just you but, you're something else, you know that Westergaard? I don't know of many men, if any, that would be willing to accept more punishment after receiving a flogging like yours. Most men would have been content to surviving or just embrace death, rather than be bold enough to return to attempt to atone, especially when it seemed nothing more than a foolish gamble or a death wish. Taking that extra step to try to make amends really says a lot about a man and his conscience," he assured with a nod. 

 The Captain remembered something he forgot to say earlier. "It's not like the men are just blindly trusting you, a lot of those men have seen you in action, fighting alongside them. You know, you could have very well sat on your ass during the raid, no one expected anything from you, and yet you charged in to aid and got the scars to prove it, that's gotta count for something," noted the Captain. 

 "You've already exceeded expectations, with your actions." Thinking he'd talked too much the Captain shifted a bit in his seat. "All this rambling to say, you already try you're damnedest and yet you still don't think that's enough. You're too hard on yourself, and no I haven't forgotten the bad things you've done, but you dwell too much on them, you think they overshadow the good you've done or are going to do. You don't have to constantly try so hard to prove yourself."

 Hans listened, and even after the first part about the sword, smiled a little to himself and looked away, as if he was flattered. 

 "Never again, is right." He agreed with a nod. 

 "I need someone like you around, too. I suppose I assumed they didn't notice me. I tend to, I'm not usually noticeable, apart from the hair. The Royal Shade." He laughed dryly. "We started calling the cat on my ship 'Your Highness', so I wouldn't have to answer it. Someone would ask for 'the prince' and we'd all point to the cat. He had the same fur color as my hair, we joked." He laughed a little at the memory.

 "'Hard on myself', one could say that. Others might say 'not hard enough'. Murder is an exceptional crime, even attempted. Technically speaking I should've been hanged in the Isles, but my eldest brother didn't want to see that scene play out, when my dress rehearsal went so poorly before." He made a lot of theatrical references. From 'aye there's the rub' to speaking of 'dress rehearsals' and 'performances'. The oddity of that almost disguised the subtle suggestion laced there in his last sentence. He had another thought about the captain, but decided it was better left unsaid, at least for this drink. 

 "Perhaps they don't need to worry about lies yet, then. I'll worry about that some other time, and worry about reviewing those tests. I mean it, when I say we should add women and the Deaf to our roster. People who get overlooked, usually, can be the most determined. I've never seen fighters more determined than female pirates, for a certainty. Even cornered they'd sooner hack a chunk out of you than give up easily, perhaps because they know what can happen when they do, if the men they surrender to are anything less than honorable." He didn't like the idea, but he knew it was likely true. He was back to business, perhaps in hopes that the Captain forgot about his implications.

The Captain laughed a little at Hans' reminiscence of the red furred feline. 

 "That's true, a coup isn't something easy to overlook, nor should it be, but since you've been given the opportunity to redeem yourself, you need to find a balance between being too hard and too soft when it comes to disciplining yourself . I'll do my best to keep you in check, and if I think your slacking, I'm not afraid to reprimand you, if need be," he chuckled, but he was serious. The Captain had taken note of his mention of a 'dress rehearsal' and though he was curious of the reasoning behind it, he didn't bring it up (he was trying to brighten the boy's spirits after all), but kept in mind. 

 "I'll see what I can do about broadening up the recruitment, if you think we can find promising potential soldiers among people we failed to take into account, I'll welcome them with pleasure. We really can't afford to undermine anyone willing to protect Arendelle, especially when we need everyone we can get," concurred the Captain with a nod, getting back to talking business like Hans wanted.

"Agreed, the defenses seem so small for a castle so sprawling." Hans seemed genuinely put off by that. "At least in the Southern Isles, the castle has a boatload of well-trained princes with swords, and maids who know poisons, and the castle is built like a castle. It's ancient, it's meant to be sieged and survive. Arendelle is too new for ancient sieges and building clockwise spiral stairs for defense. It's a little unnerving. Are you kingdom guards or castle guards? It seems the team is too small to protect a whole kingdom, too large for a castle-- but the castle is such a unique shape for a kingdom. As if someone began by building a house, and forgot to stop." He was amused by the concept, certainly. 

 "Part of it might be that I'm fluent in sign language, at least for my brother. We could spread that sign language in Arendelle, if there is no current sign language here. A standardization would help to bind Arendelle and the Southern Isles, if only very slightly. Not that I'm after that for any personal reason, but my brother Bernhard is Deaf, and he never leaves the castle if he can help it. No-one takes the time or energy to learn, but his brothers. It would be nice to expand his horizons, if he could be convinced to venture outside." It wasn't for selfish reasons, but for a brother that he took an interest.

 "Ah well, you didn't want to talk about this, I'm sure. So, what do men of good standing talk about here? I'm sure you don't talk about women in quite the same way we do on boats, but I'm not sure what else you'd prefer. I don't watch sports, but I do know a thing or two about pirates and good adventure stories and the like." He didn't say he didn't talk about women, only that he suspected the Captain wouldn't appreciate him talking about them-- which suggested, at least, that he was still a warm-blooded male who did take an interest in the opposite sex.

"Arendelle's defenses became inadequate due to the luxury of living peacefully for so long. Like I've said before and it's quite obvious to see, even though we're a fairly newer kingdom, we haven't really adapted with the rest of the world. It truly is a miracle that we lived so prosperously until recently, it's a good thing our kingdom was often overlooked," he admitted a bit ashamed. "The castle guard, though I don't think it makes much difference either way, most of the military resides here in the capitol and the rest of the armed forces for the rest of the kingdom's provinces are heavily reliant on the militia. The entirety of Arendelle's defenses require an overhaul," the Captain let out a disgruntled sigh. "And yes, the castle wasn't built as much of a stronghold, since it they were confident on it's optimal location near the fjord would be enough to keep out intruders. In days of olde it might have sufficed, being able to see incoming attackers and being protected by the fjord, but it doesn't really work when the enemy knows your defenseless and manages to evade the natural deterrent undetected," he explained, which is what happened during the raid. 

 "I'm not aware of an official sign language in Arendelle, but it could be quite useful in more ways than just strengthening our alliance," agreed the Captain. He thought it was admirable that he thought of his brother and wanted to find a way to broaden his horizons. “Definitely something you should bring up to the Queen." 

 "And you are correct in assuming I would not partake in discourse about women, for I am a married man. Though I probably wouldn't engage, nor would want to either, out of respect, even if that wasn't the case. Stories are good, yes, but men don't have to be constantly yammering in order to be entertained Westergaard," chuckled the Captain. Hans did like to blabber like a parrot given the chance, not the Captain minded, he was an entertaining lad, but all this talk could be rather exhausting.

 "Drinks and cards could be adequate entertainment." The Captain took out a pack of cards and placed them on the table.

Hans held up his hands in defeat. "No talk of women, fair enough. I only do because the men often do and otherwise it makes them difficult to converse with." He assured sweetly. 

 "Congratulations on the marriage, and on being so faithful. I've known some right bastard men who aren't." He shrugged. He seemed a bit off-put, though. "I don't get to talk much at home, so I speak too much everywhere else. What shall we play?" He could shut up as easily as he spoke, though now he had more to turn over in his mind. "You've kids?" He proposed, short and purely curious. The Captain seemed like he would have kids.

 "Thank you," he grinned, appreciating the compliment, he truly loved his wife. "You don't have to hold your tongue, just saying that you don't have to yatter," the Captain assured him, he didn't wish to discourage him. "There aren't many card games for two, we could play piquet perhaps," he suggested, with a shrug. "Unless you have something else in mind." 

 "Kids? Just one so far," he answered. " A little girl."

 "Ah, that explains some things about you." Hans joked playfully, at the idea of a little girl in the Captain's family. "Let's see, you can't be that much older than me, perhaps... ten at the oldest, the way you speak of her?" He proposed, purely guessing as a way to keep the conversation alive. 

 He imagined the Captain to be ten years older than him, or a few years younger than that; and he himself was twenty-four, plenty old enough to have a kid himself, though he had no interest in it at the moment. Most seemed to have children young, so he guessed based on that. 

 "I've heard of Piquet, but never played. It's usually poker on a ship, or spades. If we had more people, I could show you how to play Cheat, or as most people call it, 'Bullshit'. Or Spoons, if we feel like a bunch of children, I quite like that one." He had no fond memories of gaming with his brothers, they weren't the gaming sorts, or those that were ones he wouldn't want to game with. 

 "Maybe we should drag someone else into our games. There's Speed, I suppose." "Is that so?" he gave a hearty laugh. "Though I'm well aware I am an old man at heart, I truly might not be much more than a decade your senior. You'd suppose, by the way I am, that I'd marry much sooner, but I didn't get wed until I was a tad bit older than you are now, the ripe old age of 27. How old are you now Westergaard? 24-25?" he questioned. 

 "We had our little girl soon after, she's almost six years old, and if you do the math you can figure out how old I am."

"Piquet is a bit complicated to explain. So if you can manage to get some others to join us, which I'm sure wouldn't be hard for you, then we can play one of your suggestions either Cheat or even Spoons if you really like," chuckled the Captain. "Might be one of the last times to be childish before the rigorous training begins."

"Twenty four." Hans agreed, amused. "I tend to assume most people have children by twenty, but I often forget the age discrepancy between men and women, too. Women tend to be married younger, men older, that was my assumption wrong. I was close to right about your age, at least." He laughed a little at the thought. 

 "Oh nonsense, there's always time around the edges to be childish." He assured, with a casual wave. "As I said on the boat: Shiny brass buttons are all well and good, but if making your men shine buttons all day makes the men hate you, then damn the buttons." He waved casually, and took another sip of his drink. 

 "Who fancies beating the Captain of the Guard and the worst criminal in Arendelle at a friendly game of lying at cards? I'll teach, if anyone wants to join us." He knew they were both recognizable faces in Arendelle, and he used that to his advantage in the tavern, picking up the cards to shuffle them loudly, a call to most men in the kingdom. "No wagers, I imagine it would upset the Captain, but we can always make the losers buy drinks." He suggested playfully, grinning over at the Captain, as if to say 'You have not yet seen the beginning of my charisma' 

 "Would you believe, my brother Eduard is the charismatic one?" He teased. "We're all actors, the lot of us. Some better than others. I learned to be whatever I need to be. Eduard learned how to be himself so well that everyone liked him for it. A mirror and a portrait, in a sense. Some may not like him, but he and I were always quite close." He continued shuffling the cards, hoping to be joined. 

 "I'm in, it's a slow day." A barmaid suggested, pulling over a chair and straddling it like a man. 

 "Oh, I like you already, you'll be good at this." Hans assured, waving her into the game. "One more?" He proposed, looking around.

 "I guess you're right about all work and no play," he nodded remembering the proverb. The Captain was well aware of Hans charisma, that's why he asked him to be the one to recruit players. The captain shot him back a look as if saying 'Don't test my patience, boy.' 

 With the Barmaid joining in, a young man at one of the nearby tables finally stepped up, to fill the opening. 

 "If Ida's playing, I want to join too," he said determined, calling the barmaid by her name meaning he was a tavern regular or knew her personally. "See if I can finally get a free drink from her," he laughed, flashing her a smile.

Hans grinned at the Captain, a little more childish, a little more playful at the look. 

 "Now, here's how we play." Hans shuffled one last time, and began to deal all the cards. "No cards withheld, we deal all fifty-two. Whomever has the ace of spades starts. You play as many Aces as you have in the center of the table. Then, play to the left. The next person plays as many twos, and the next as many threes, and so on. If you don't have any, lie. If you suspect someone of lying, say 'Bullshit' or whatever variant you prefer. If you're caught lying, you pick up all the cards. If you try to catch someone else lying but they told the truth, you pick up all the cards. We play until either someone is out, or we can continue playing until only two are left." As he finished, they each had their pile of cards. 

 "So, who has the ace of spades?" He asked sweetly. He picked up his cards to spread them. 

 "Two aces." Ida played first, boldly. She seemed passing familiar with this one, at least. "Good luck on that drink, Derrick, you'll be waiting on it a long time." She assured. Playful banter, without anger, and it was Derrick's turn.

"Waiting until the end of this game is a pretty long time indeed," Derrick bantered back. He stared Ida down for a moment. "I think you're bluffing," he asserted. 

 "You sure about that?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 "Of course! Bullshit!" he exclaimed over confidently. 

"If you say so." Ida shrugged nonchalantly and flipped her cards to reveal an ace of spades and an ace of clubs, before a large grin crossed her lips. 

 "Dammit!" Derrick groaned in disappointment. Picking up the cards to add to his hand. 

 "Still think you'll be getting that drink?" Ida boasted, roaring with laughter. The Captain laughed earnestly as well, the game had just begun and it was already off to a great start. Hans' turn followed.

Hans laughed. "Who would bluff at the start of the game, when the ace of spades must start? You had me going, unless the Captain's deck has two aces of spades? Cheating at poker lately, old man?" Hans teased, calling the Captain 'old man' in the same way the Captain called him 'boy'.

Just playful banter so far as Hans was concerned. 

 "No no, don't pass it to me, you still must play, Derrick, twos to the table." Hans insisted. 

 Derrick grumbled and played two twos, and Hans suspected at least one was a lie, but decided not to call him out. 

 "One three." Hans laid down his own. 

 "So, what makes you the worst criminal in Arendelle?" Ida asked, confident enough in herself that she wasn't the least afraid to ask. 

 "My reputation, of course, it is all a man has. Tried to kill the Queen, if you believe the stories. Now I'm teaching the Watch how not to let it happen again, and somehow nobody's had me killed yet." Hans didn't seem the least bit concerned about the number of patriots to the crown in the bar-- which was all of them. He took a drink of his rum. 

 "Bold move, admitting that here." Derrick pointed out, with a bit of a scowl. 

 "Aye and it's bold to call Bullshit on a first turn, we're all full of surprises. I tried to kill the queen, then I saved her during the Weselton raid. One good turn deserves another, and one good captain deserves another turn." Hans gestured to the Captain for his turn, as he reorganized his cards without fear.

The Captain nodded and made his move. 

 "Four Fours," he declared, placing four cards atop the pile. Everyone looked at him in disbelief, thinking he was being either really bold or really dumb. 

 "Now that definitely has to be Bullshit!" Ida insisted, knowing the odds of that were highly unlikely, she might have been more prone to believe three, but all four seemed impossible. The Captain turned his cards and revealed that he in fact had not been bluffing. Ida's mouth was agape incredulous. 

 "No way," she uttered. 

 "Sometimes life is rather unexpected, wouldn't you say? One shouldn't easily dismiss seemingly impossible odds," commented the Captain, giving Hans a knowing look. "You never know, taking that risk might end up being one of the best decisions you've made."

  Ida was a bit vexed collecting all the cards and adding them to her hand. 

 "Two fives," she said as she started the new discard pile. "And actually think it through before you call bullshit this time, will ya, Derrick." There was a slight grumble in her tone.

Hans chuckled. "Tell that to my scars, Captain. I believe you but my back doesn't." He joked. 

 Derrick was smart enough not to call it this time. 

 "One six." 

 "Bullshit, at least lie bravely." Hans turned the card over, himself, and shoved the cards back at him. 

 "Two sevens. The trick to playing Bullshit, is being reasonably good at math, and watching everybody else. If everybody is equally surprised that four fours are being played, and nobody has immediately jumped down their throat, he must have all four." He shrugged. "It was the best decision to return, the worst to make it necessary, I'd say. The whole coronation affair was indeed my biggest regret in life, but at least it got me here, so it's not the worst of possibilities." He considered it a bit before nodding, as if he'd had to gauge some other possible 'biggest regret'.

 "One eight. Making the best possibilities out of the worst situations seems to be one of life's favorite things to do," suggested the Captain. "Odds are rarely in your favor the way you want them, so you gotta make due with what you got." 

 "Two Nines." 

 "Bullshit!" 

 "Well, look at that you actually got it right this time," Ida taunted. 

 "Of course I did!" Derrick gloated, with a large smile. "Two Tens."

"I wouldn't say 'favorite', but I would say 'required'. I am the thirteenth, I was never destined for good things. If I get anything, good or ill, it's to be fought for. Three jacks." He set his cards down and shrugged. "And what of you two? A barmaid willing to play cards with a Captain of the Guard and a criminal, you don't seem scared of much. The Castle Guards are hiring, and we're certainly accepting female applicants." Hans proposed, diverting the conversation.

"Oh! Is that so? I might consider joining the guard then," she laughed. "It does get rather drab at the tavern. I'm not afraid of brawling with the boys, ain't that right, Derrick?" Ida nudged him with her elbow. 

 "Bullshit!" Ida turned to glare at Derrick, ready to hit him upside the head, until realizing he wasn't the one that'd spoken though, it was the Captain. She looked at him in confusion for a moment then remembered the game they were playing. He wasn’t doubting her capabilities, but Hans' cards. The Captain was a bit flustered at the momentary misunderstanding. Clearing his throat a bit in awkwardness. 

 "I don't believe it," he stated, once more this time with a much softer tone and use of words, the last time he'd spoken. The harshness of the way he'd said it last time, seemed uncharacteristic of him, hence the slight confusion. His articulation seemed to suggest that he wasn't strictly referring to the cards, but voicing his opinion of what Hans had previously said. He looked for the cards directly to Hans as he waited for the reveal.

Hans seemed curious a moment, then smiled. 

 "You've caught me again, Captain." He revealed his cards-- two Jacks, and a queen. "Now which part of what I said were you also calling bullshit on? 'Never destined for good things', I wager? Well, take it as you like it, but I've never believed in destiny, only power of will and determination. Just because I wasn't 'destined' for good things doesn't mean I can't force them, so I went and became an admiral." He shrugged, and picked up the few remaining cards. "If one must lie, lie boldly." He reminded the others with a sly smile. "And so the game begins in earnest." 

 "At any rate -that puts queens on your shoulders, Captain.- I look forward to seeing a woman in the Guardstaff. I've never known a woman with a weapon who wasn't twice as terrifying as a man with the same. I faced a female pirate once; her crew was taken quickly and she was by no means its leader, but she was the last we could restrain, and she nearly took a chunk out of one of my men in the process. I admired her boldness. She was more memorable than even her captain. It's just a shame that in most places the punishment for piracy is death. Who knows, maybe she got out of it, Anne Bonny did." Hans knew a fair bit about pirates, even the long-dead historical ones.

The Captain smiled, a bit relieved, he was perfectly fine with Hans being a self-made man, he had just been disturbed thinking that he thought he was a good for nothing, luckily that wasn't the case. 

 "One Queen." 

 "I'm really tempted to join myself," Ida affirmed. "I can help spread the word. Aside from myself, I also know a few other women that might be a perfect fit, as well, not your typical ‘angels of the house’ gals. That'd be ready to throw down a challenge in a heartbeat. Besides y'all might need a woman's perspective, especially if the guard's consist of a bunch of dullards like Derrick." 

 "Hey, I take offense to that!" exclaimed Derrick. 

 "Of course you do. It was an insult afterall, dear Derrick." She razzed. "Two Kings." 

 "I'm no dolt! I like to see myself as a risk-taker that didn't get it right," he confidently corrected with a smirk. "Four aces." He really did have two additional aces, that's why he'd jumped the gun last time, but Hans didn't know that. "Oh I definitely want to see you and your friends on the guard. We'll have to get some feminine-cut uniforms. And no I don't mean 'skirts'. Can't have you going about in ill-fitting wool coats on the Queen's watch." Hans observed.

 "Always one queen, I'm surprised nobody called you on that, Captain." Hans wouldn't say he knew better, he could only confirm the existence of one queen, but he suspected someone else had the other queens. "If you manage to get through this night without getting caught at least once, I swear..." He took a drink of his own rum. "Oh right, my turn. Two twos." Derrick, however, had played two twos before. Hans had suspected at least one was a lie, but was it?

The Captain chuckled at Hans' allegation about the Queen card. Sipping his drink as well. 

 "Good, cause if you made us wear skirts. I'd expect the men to wear them as well," Ida said in a dead serious tone.

  "Ida, why did you put that image in my head?" Derrick started laughing hysterically at the thought of the entirety of Arendelle guard wearing skirts.

Hans laughed too, both at the Captain, and at Ida's joke. 

 "Ah, you see, us Queen's men know the truth-- there is always only one Queen." He joked, with a mock-posh tone, like the royal everyone tended to forget he actually was. "Thank god it's this one, the one in the Isles is--" He elected to drink instead of finish that sentence, looking off as if to say 'well, you know.' 

 "Yes, the gents in skirts and the ladies in armor, I'd pay to see that. New rule, anyone makes fun of the female guards, they get a guard skirt." Hans proposed, with a wry grin. "We can tell foreign countries it's a Scottish Kilt, they'll probably be fine with it. Until the Scots visit."

 Laughter boomed, and far beyond just the party of four playing at the table, they were joined by some of the surrounding tables as well. Of course people have been eavesdropping. How could they not? Who could easily ignore the Captain of the Guard sharing a drink with the most infamous and worst criminal Arendelle had to offer. Everyone was curious, because outside the castle walls there was only gossip of Hans.

Hans grinned to himself, and cast a somewhat playful look to the Captain. 

 "Oh I have an audience now, do I?" He hummed. "Our next round may require a bigger table, then. Come on, if you're going to laugh, join the conversation, god knows I like to talk, and I like to annoy the Captain, who gets annoyed at my talking. It's a perfect setup." He joked, letting his charismatic attitude come out again. 

 He was quite the chameleon. Morose alone, but the more people he could get to laugh with him, the more he laughed as well. He could tell stories or get serious, he could be a fury in battle, but still could not bring himself to anger when righteously struck by Anna. He seemed very unique in his manner, ever shifting. The more people there were to attend to, the broader his personality had to be, the more in-tuned with the other personalities he needed to become. He could be funny, but never silly. He could be chaotic, but never wild. Playful and childish, but never so un-serious that he couldn't come right back to a stern look when he needed to. In spite of his drinking, he still had an undercurrent of control. He knew exactly what mannerisms he was putting on.

The Captain lifted an eyebrow and gave him a slight irked glance in return. An 'Oh, brother' could almost be read from his expression. He let out a bit of exasperated grumble. 

 "If it keeps you from talking my ears off, everybody is more than welcome to join," he quipped, taking another swig of his drink. The Captain made his next move in the game. "Also if you want me to get called out for any 'bullshit', I suggest you do it yourself boy," he challenged with a slight simper. He could tell Hans was trying to play it safe.

"Ah, the conflicting nature of my character. Do I do for myself, because I am a hard worker, or let others take the risk for me, because I'm not a fool? A fine question, we'll figure it out when others don't pounce on their turns too quickly to call it." He laughed a little. "Are you calling me 'boy' because you feel old even though you're younger than my eldest brother? Or because you're irked about me putting you on the ground in the sword demonstration earlier?" Now he was just being a shit. In truth he thought it was endearing, mostly, but he was beginning to wonder about the nature of it.

"Not a fool, ey? You say that, but I've heard otherwise. If I'm not mistaken, I'm pretty sure 'Fool' is one of your official titles, granted by the Queen even, what an honor," chuckled the Captain. If Hans was being a jackass, he wasn't going to hold back either. "I call 'em like I see 'em," he shrugged a little before adding. "Boy."

Hans laughed, caught by surprise. 

 "The Captain has bested me in my own game." He raised a glass in salute. "But for the record, I gave my own dumb ass that title, thank you very much. It was easier than explaining to the snow-child why an attempted murderer is telling jokes to the Queen." He shrugged. "For my next act, I shall balance on a chair. Doubly fun if my next glass is a double." He finished his drink and set it down, just being playful. He was sarcastic, of course-- unless someone challenged him.

The Captain finished his drink and ordered another round, who would pay for it would be determined later. The game continued, and Hans and Captain were the ones with the least amount of cards. Ida and Derrick were the ones calling 'Bullshit' mostly against each other and Hans, the Captain did seem to be getting away with his plays. 

 "You know what I just realized, Westergaard? Unless I'm mistaken, if you lose I'll have to pay for it too, cause I doubt you’re given pension." he brought up. "But knowing you don't accept aid and value hard work, I'm sure you'll find another way to compensate." Hans laughed. "Always, Captain. Hard work like training Her Royal Majesty and your recruits for you? I forget, am I a prisoner or a swordmaster? Nobody seems entirely clear on what my role here is-- least of all, me." He leaned back and shrugged a little. He didn't drink yet, wanting to be clear on the monetary situation. He did feel he held the right cards. "Or did you intend for me to start a brothel? I grant you I'm handsome enough Captain, but that really sounds more like my brother Eduard's thing." That was definitely delivered like a joke, but he grinned wryly at Ida, hoping she would jump in on that setup.

Of course, Ida jumped in without hesitation, she wouldn't miss out on the chance of flustering the Captain of the Guard, how often would an opportunity like that present itself? Ida played along and began to look Hans up and down. 

 "Oh, yes. Easy money for sure. A man with all your qualities, are very hard to come by," she observed, with a glint of the eye. "You could easily undertake an entire brothel all by your lonesome," she was slightly poking fun at Hans for the 'start a brothel' comment, since brothels required more than one. 

 The Captain had gotten flustered from the beginning, since he was indeed reliant on Hans, and that in itself was embarrassing enough. But, when Hans brought up the alternative and even if it was just a joke, had made his eyes widen and his facial features shifted to utter horror. It was rather easy to ruffle his feathers, with that subject. 

 "Oh dear God, no!" the Captain shuddered, covering his face with one hand for a moment, before making his fingers rub the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Anything, but that." Hans had really tested the Captain's patience.

Hans snickered a little. "Sorry Captain, twelve brothers have rather made me good at teasing. God knows we're no good for anything else until we can swing swords about. Anyway, whatever your last play was, bullshit." Hans had been watching the game in between witticisms, and noted that he and the Captain both were perilously low on cards. He wasn't stupid, the game only got good when the pile was thick-- though someone picking the pile up late, as often happened, made for an intrigue as well, for then no-one truly knew the fate of the cards. And if he had to pick some up, well, Hans was one of the few who had strategies for Cheat beyond 'the last card in anyone's hand is almost always bullshit'.

 "Finally calling me out on my bullshit. Congratulations it paid off," concluded the Captain, picking up the pile after revealing his cards. The pile wasn't too big, but thick enough to significantly push Hans in the lead with the least amount of cards.

 "Don't be too proud, captain, I was aware of your bullshit a while back, but what are friends for, if not supporting one-another's nonsense?" He joked dryly. "Or perhaps, is it rude to call you a friend of a treasoner? I would hate to insult you." That was much less of a joke, as he continued to watch his cards. "Is this a bad time to admit that this game can easily go for an hour?" He smiled a little to himself and drank his rum, but there was a bit of insincerity to it. Any time he got to thinking about himself, it seemed he got a little less genuine, a little less jovial.

 "I'd be more offended if you didn't think there was some sort of camaraderie between us," answered the Captain. "Considering we're gonna be spending a lot of time working together. If you thought I was good for nothing other than jokes and buying drinks, I'd be insulted for sure." He chuckled. 

 "You know not that long ago, if someone'd told me I'd someday be sharing a drink with Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, I'da laughed in their face and thought they were crazy." He laughed a little to himself. "Look at me now, I'm playing cards even." 

 "Now don't go blabbing that the Captain of the Guard takes criminals out for drinks, if the guys in the dungeon catch wind of it they'll have themselves a field day," joked the Captain. He chuckled a bit then got a bit more serious. "You really think I'd ask anyone to share a drink with me? And much less a common criminal? If so, you're sorely mistaken, I only reserve that privilege for people I respect." The Captain raised his glass and drank from it.

Hans seemed a little wry, and gestured around him. 

 "I imagine anyone here would have thought it equally hilarious so much as a month ago. I bring out interesting qualities in people, and they do the same to me." He admitted. "Forgive me for not thinking much of myself. I've earned an admiralty and that much I consider admirable. An Admirable Admiral. Hah. But the rest I could take or leave. Maybe the swordplay." He gave an offhand shrug. "Princes are a dime a dozen in the Isles, and you get the thirteenth free." Still, that was a joke, but he seemed somewhat lightened. His tone fluctuated seemingly with the tides, for how fluid he could be, jokes and jibes turning into self-deprecation and mild loathing for himself alone, yet he maintained a tone of friends at a bar, no matter how many were listening.

-- The night at the tavern continued with a few more rounds of cards, after the first game concluded, to Derrick's dismay he lost the first game and had to buy the table drinks. After testing the waters with the first round, a lot of the bystanders decided to join in the fun, for themselves. Which meant more drinks, quips and laughter. After a few rounds and tired of being awarded something simple like alcohol, they'd decided to up the ante for the final round and raise the stakes to something that was worth a bit more, (not monetary, but something that'd put their dignities on the line) they agreed to bet that everyone other than the winner had to sing a song. The Captain was greatly relieved to have won that round. Soon after disbanding what seemed to be an endless concert of drunken singing, that dragged on a tad bit too long thanks to Hans actually enjoying the punishment and crowd continuously asking for an encore, the Captain finally called it a night. He decided it'd be best if escorted Hans back to the castle before he became too inebriated.

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Downfall Of Us All: Chapter 9

Downfall Of Us All

Chapter 9 

AN: Things are going to get dark from now on, if anyone has triggers feel free to skip to the next part. Thank you to @jtargaryen18​, who helped me write this story and I credit her with co - writing this story with me.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Breeding, 

The police officers were in the front of the car and they were on their way. Tony was trying not to think worst case scenario. Something was off. Happy wasn't dead. He'd get to the bottom of it. Where the hell was Pepper? "Today is your first day at the compound?" he asked Lilia, When she nodded, he asked, "What do you do?" "AI engineering," she said with some confidence. That got his attention. "So, you're the new addition to the AI team? Huh."

"Yes, I have two engineering degrees and two medical degrees, I graduated from MIT." Liliya know explained quietly, Tony nodded as they reached the police station and were shown to the morgue. Where the hell was Pepper? He looked at the morgue attendant who gently pulled the sheet away, revealing the battered and beaten face of Happy. He felt like someone had punched him, he felt sick. Happy was really dead. "It's him, it's Happy. How did this happen?" Tony asked quickly, he wanted to know exactly what had happened to his friend. "That's what we're trying to find out, Mr Stark. We'll keep in touch with you and try contacting Miss Potts." Olivia reassured gently, Tony nodded numbly at her words. Lilia gently led him away and was relieved to see that a car had parked up to pick them up. Tony gave Steve and Natasha a grateful smile, as the four of them drove back to the compound in silence.

"Do you think Tony's ok, Bucky?" Sophie asked quietly, she was sweating from the training session and was trying to block Bucky's punches. Bucky sighed quietly, truthfully, he didn't think Tony was coping very well with the fact that one of his few friends had been murdered. He wondered where Pepper was? Sighing, he shook his head and gave Sophie a sad smile. "I don't think so, doll. Tony's gone through a lot this year, he saw Peter disintegrate in front of him, and then Pepper didn't want kids with him. It's been a rough year for him," Bucky said quietly, and swallowed. "And in 2016, he found out HYDRA used me to kill his parents in 1991. That's how your father got injected with the super-soldier serum, HYDRA wanted more Winter Soldiers." He explained grimly and sighed. "I've hurt so many people, Sophie. I don't know if I'll ever be able to make amends to atone for what I've done, but I want to." He said firmly, Sophie smiled. "I think you've already making amends, Bucky. You're considered a hero, and you've saved lives," Sophie reassured, as she looked at the uneven bars. She'd always loved this piece of equipment and had many female gymnastic heroes for this apparatus. "Are you going to show off your routine, that won you a gold World Medal, Soph?" Grace asked excited, proud of her sister. Sophie laughed and nodded.

Hopping up on the lower bar, Sophie mounted the bars, spinning then kipping up the top bar. A pirouette gave her momentum and then it was all flowing from there. Sophie went along from one move to the next, the entire routine as much a part of her as breathing. From Jaeger and then to Pak Salto, keeping her legs straight, keeping her toes pointed. Oblivious to the small crowd that had gathered to watch, she got ready for the big moves at the end. Adding an extra twist to the end of her dismount, she managed the landing without stepping out, caught off guard by the applause at the end. Bucky hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. Between dancing with her last night, to watching her twirl above him, he was fascinated with her. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she'd looked but had no idea what to say and the moment was lost when Clint, who stood behind Grace, winked at Sophie. "Hot stuff, but could you take down a man with those moves?" he challenged her. What he actually did was get the attention of both sisters, Grace giving him a playful shove back. "Let's find out," she told him. Sophie followed them back to the mat and Bucky grinned, watching Clint face the prospect of going against both of them. "Not what I was looking for, but okay," he joked. Then he looked to Bucky across the mat. "Help a fellow out?" Bucky shook his head, folding his arms across his chest and watching the two women begin to circle the archer. Clint winked at Grace. "You'll take it easy on me, right?" "When did I agree to that?" Grace told him, fighting a smile. Sophie came at him first and Bucky was proud to see her using moves he'd shown her. Grace followed suit until the sisters were circling him, making him really work for it as she fought off one and then the other. He blocked punches, he took Sophie's legs out from under her. It was Grace who caught him off guard, catching him with an elbow to throw him off balance. Sophie went in with Natasha's scissor takedown and Clint was flat on his back on the floor. "Damn," he called, staring up at them in a daze. "You're fast learners, I'll give you that." "I'll say," Natasha told them, no one having noticed when she entered the gym. "Sophie that was perfect." Sophie turned to smile over her shoulder at the spy, pleased that she'd nailed it that time. "How's Tony?" Bucky asked Steve as he approached. Steve shook his head. "Happy's gone and then he got more bad news on the way back from the morgue." "What happened?" Bucky asked concerned.

"Pepper sent him divorce papers, his lawyers are dealing with it but it's hitting him hard." Steve said quietly, everyone froze at his words as Tony entered with a dark haired young woman that had red highlights in her hair. "Everyone, this is Lilia Dumitrescu who will be with the AI team and will be working with Jemma, and Helen Cho." Tony announced smoothly, but everyone could tell he was near breaking point. Clint stepped forward to console him, but he quickly left to go in the direction of the lab. Everyone watched him go in silence, before Lilia spoke up quietly. "He's been quiet since we've come back from the morgue, he's only spoken twice.," Lilia explained quietly, her grey eyes concerned. "I'll go check on him, see if he's alright." Clint said quietly, nodding in thanks to the young woman who nodded at him.

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While Clint went to talk to Tony, Sophie and Grace with the help of the team decided to cheer Tony up. So, they decided to make him a cake. "Jarvis, what are Tony's favourite cake flavours?" Grace asked, and Sophie had wanted to do something for Tony in thanks for him saving their shop. If Tony hadn't bought their shop, then they would have lost their mother's business. It would have devastated them, if that had come to pass. "Mr Stark enjoys a tiramisu, and his mother's chocolate cake with a salted caramel frosting. Miss Drăgoi," Jarvis said kindly, Grace nodded as she and Sophie began baking the cake. "Is that chocolate cake?" Bucky asked hopefully, Sophie laughed while Grace smiled at the dark haired young man that was making Sophie like her old self. "Yes, a chocolate cake with salted caramel filling. We wanted to do a cake for all of you, and Tony." Sophie explained softly, when they saw Grace coming out looking sad. "Clint, Peter and Steve are with Tony. He's not doing great, Pepper's signed the divorce papers, and apparently she wants the Malibu house," Grace said quietly. Peter looked sad at hearing this, while Sophie and Bucky exchanged a grim look of understanding. Lilia looked saddened at what was happening to Tony and looked at Natasha who looked troubled.

Clint and Steve were both carefully helping Tony out of the room, after he confessed that he'd been tempted to have a drink. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "I can't stop being Iron Man, I can't. It's who I am, and I lost Pepper because she didn't understand." Tony said finally, tired and exhausted. He missed Happy.

"What happened to Happy?" Clint asked, still trying to catch up with everything. Peter tucked away his phone. Tony glanced up from there he slumped in the chair. "I don't know. At the moment, I don't know. I don't even know where Pepper is." "When's the last time you saw her?" Steve asked quietly. "When she slapped me across the face yesterday in front of most of you," Tony told him. Then his expression perked up. "I tried to call, and she didn't answer but considering that she'd divorcing me, I didn't think too much of that." Clint and Steve exchanged a concerned look. "Then she didn't show up at the office this morning," Tony rambled on. "Wait…" Pulling out his phone, he combed through the screens frantically. When he stopped, his eyes widened. "Happy was her driver last night when she left. Nothing new there. No one has heard from either of them since," Tony told them. "Happy is…" "Right." Steve glanced at Clint. "Where was she going?" "I don't know." And he looked sad he didn't know, calling Pepper's assistant. "Hey, Carmen, it's Tony. Where's Pepper?" Tony's face drained of colour and he stood. "When's the last time you heard from her? Hey, it's okay. We're going to find her, Carmen. She's been so upset with me being a total idiot that she's probably tucked in somewhere to recover from it. Okay? I'll be in touch soon. Thank you." "Shit, her assistant hasn't seen her since before she was here," Tony told Steve. Steve nodded, springing into action. "Tony, why don't you stay put in case she shows up or tries to make contact. We'll see what we can find." "Steve, she's okay, isn't she?" Tony sounded uncharacteristically scared. "We'll find her," Steve assured him, leading Clint and Peter from the lab. Bruce was heading towards them. "Bruce, Pepper's missing. Can you stay here and keep an eye on Tony?" Bruce's eyes widened in alarm. "I thought they were getting divorced?" "That's also true but right now, we don't know where she is." "Maybe she's just… upset?" Bruce offered. "Hope so," Steve said, leading Clint and Peter back to the living area of the compound. They found Bucky, Sophie, and Grace in the kitchen, working away on something. Nat sprawled over the sofa in the living room, watching television. "Nat," Steve called. Rising from the couch, she made her way into the kitchen to meet them. "What's up?" "Pepper fought with Tony in front of last night, here at the compound," Steve began. "She went out to the car, Happy was driving. Happy's body has been located. No one, including Pepper's assistant, has heard from her since." "Nat, take Bucky and Sophie and find out everything you can about where and how Happy was found," Steve directed. "Comb the car for any detail on Pepper's whereabouts." Nat nodded, Bucky patted Sophie on the shoulder, tipping his head towards the oven. "It's almost done, she told him. We can finish it later." "Clint, you and Grace go check out Pepper's office, her apartment, everything. See if you can find any trace of her." Clint nodded. "Get ready," he told Grace. "What about me, Cap?" Peter asked, looking eager to help. "You're with me," Steve informed him. "Let's go." "Right," Peter said. "I'm with you. Okay." Dashing around the counter, he hugged Sophie then Grace. "Be careful guys." Sophie and Grace exchanged a glance. They were heading on their first Avenger mission.

"We'll be careful Peter, you take care of yourself and Steve." Sophie said reassuringly, Peter nodded and left with Steve while she said goodbye to Grace and Clint. She hoped Pepper was alright.

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Clint and Grace drove to Pepper's apartment and parked outside the expensive building. Grace would guess that this condo apartment costed at least, millions of dollars. She and Sophie could never afford to live here, even if their business did pick up wealthy customers. They walked up to Pepper's floor, and saw the penthouse was untouched aside from the bedroom. There were clothes on the bed, but something felt off. "This feels staged, I don't know why but it feels fake." Grace said quietly, Clint nodded in agreement as they looked around and found a letter. It was addressed to Tony, and it was in Pepper's neat handwriting. Grace read it, while Clint searched around for any hint of where she could have gone. 'Dear Tony, Our marriage hasn't been working ever since you said that you wanted children, and I'm not ready for that commitment. Plus, I don't think it's fair having children while you're with the Avengers, it's too dangerous. I'm going away for a few months, to get my head cleared until the divorce is finalised. I hope you have a good life, Tony. Love, Pepper.' "We'll give this to Tony and the others, let's go check out her office." Clint said quietly, Grace nodded and they both left the penthouse silently. Grace couldn't help but get a sense that something terrible was about to happen. They drove to Pepper's office which was in Stark Tower and were shown to her office. Nothing was out of place, but Clint saw that someone had recently used the computer recently. The last log in, had been 11:30 PM and that had been to book a reservation at a hotel in England, called the Lanesborough Hotel. She'd bought one plane ticket with first class, and he sent this information to Tony who sighed quietly. "I'll tell the police what we know, thanks Clint and Grace." He said quietly, and hung up. "Poor Tony, he must be heartbroken," Grace said sadly, her blue eyes sympathetic as they left the building and got in the car. "Yeah, he really loved her. This doesn't make any sense, why would Pepper leave Happy and go to another car?" Clint said thoughtfully, as they drove back to the base.

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Bucky, Natasha and Sophie were searching the black limo that Happy had been found in and found nothing so far. Sophie couldn't help but feel like something was missing. She'd been searching under the car seat, when she used one of the gloves to pick up a Stark iPhone. It was still charged, but there were at least fifteen voice messages. She cautiously pressed the button, and her blood ran cold at the voice speaking. It was a Sokovian accent. "Hail HYDRA and the Red Skull!" The voice declared, before five gunshots echoed, and she heard someone slump to the ground before the voicemail cut off. She walked to where Bucky and Natasha had been searching and held out the phone to them. Bucky saw she was trembling, and her voice was a whisper. "I think it was HYDRA who killed Happy, Nat and Bucky."

Natasha's eyes narrowed, stretching out a gloved hand for the phone and slid it into an evidence bag. "Let's get this back to the compound and review everything on it." Bucky shook his head. "So, they killed Happy because Pepper was their target. Are they going to hold her for ransom? What is it they're after?" Natasha's gaze cut to Sophie and back. "You think they want us? Grace and myself?" "Fuck," Bucky muttered. "Maybe," Natasha told them as they finished sweeping the car. "You were hidden well here in the city and your parents knew that. I know it's hard to learn everything they kept from you all these years, but they had a reason for hiding things. If you didn't know, you wouldn't go looking." Sophie nodded. That felt right. Their mother, in particular, had been so overprotective of her girls. "Just help me do something," Sophie asked them both. "Help me protect Grace. After learning what she went through, I'm just afraid… what if they want her back? Bucky wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she welcomed the comforting weight of it. "We're not going to let them take Grace. Or you. Try not to worry, doll." Natasha smirked, turning back to dive into the car. When she didn't come back out quickly, Sophie and Bucky exchanged a glance. "Did you find something else?" Sophie asked. Nat rose from where she'd been digging beneath the driver's seat, holding up an empty syringe. Pulling out another evidence bag, she tucked it away. "Come on," Nat told them. "Let's get back."

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