#and like. sure corps hating wasting money when they could be making it

[obsidiannebula]

Rereading I, Robot as an adult, and many things stick out to me now, but one that I can't get over is what constitutes large sums of money in this (sometimes) future society. Oh, you don't want to scrap a few dozen possibly-dangerous robots because they cost a whopping thirty-thousand dollars? Boo-hoo. Your megacorp sure would miss that drop in the bucket.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Living is the hardest

My first entry for the MDZS Bingo! It covers the prompt “Bodyguard AU” and is of course Mingcheng!

Jiang Cheng is just about ready to die of boredom when the most beautiful man he has ever seen enters his hospital room.

Closely followed by his mother, which takes most of the fun out of that moment, but the point still stands. Most beautiful man ever.

“I have brought you security,” his mother says, without greeting and without asking how Jiang Cheng is doing, and he wonders—not for the first time—why the attacker couldn’t have been just a little bit more skilled with a blade.

Because right now Jiang Cheng is being treated for a big fat slash wound on his chest, which will turn into the most ugly scar he can imagine instead of being dead and at this point in his life, Jiang Cheng thinks it’s just a little bit unfair.

Especially when the most beautiful man continues to muster him.

“Security?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he can hardly imagine that this man will simply stand outside his room and make sure that no one else will get in.

It seems like a waste of not only money, but also probably talent and most definitely time.

“A personal bodyguard,” Yu Ziyuan replies. “You will take no step without him.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at that, to which his mother huffs and simply sweeps out of the room again.

“My name is Nie Mingjue,” the man introduces himself just a beat too late and Jiang Cheng wonders what he must already think about his family.

“That is nice,” Jiang Cheng replies and almost means it, too. “Listen, no amount of money is worth taking this job. I don’t want security, and I am going to make your life a living hell if you stick around.”

“You already got hurt,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng can hear the question in his voice. The attack was not made public. For the most part at least.

He decides to ignore it.

“And it will happen again, and you really shouldn’t even think of protecting me when that time comes. There must be other jobs out there. Even ones that pay better.”

“My company doesn’t quit jobs,” Nie Mingjue tells him, and it seems like Jiang Cheng already offended him.

Good. If he hates Jiang Cheng he’s less likely to get hurt on his behalf.

“Why do you not want protection?” Nie Mingjue asks after a very uncomfortable silence and Jiang Cheng looks down at his hands.

He might be what could be considered suicidal, he can recognize that and he’s fine with it, but he’s not ready to look anyone in the face when he actually says the words out loud.

“Because it doesn’t matter. My father only wants me in the spotlight so that Wei Wuxian doesn’t get endangered and putting security on me will make me a much harder target to hit, defeating the purpose of me being in the spotlight. My mother only wants me in the spotlight so that we don’t appear weak in front of the press, and so our rivals know that Jiang Corp. still stands strong and the only reason you are here at all is because one of the many gossip newspapers already made some noise about the lack of security around me when I went for the interviews yesterday. No one cares about my security, not really, and you shouldn’t either.”

“Do you not care?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and he sounds honestly curious.

“What for?” Jiang Cheng says with a small shrug, and even that motion tugs on the wounds on his chest. “It’s not like being dead wouldn’t be easier,” he mutters, lost in his thoughts of how little his family really cares for him.

“No one is going to die on my watch,” Nie Mingjue decisively says and sits down in the chair next to Jiang Cheng’s bed. “I never failed a client.”

“Then you really shouldn’t be here, I would hate to break that streak for you,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says and Nie Mingjue levels him with a look that pins him into place.

“Then don’t fucking die.”

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng just came home from a strenuous day of press work, Nie Mingjue following close behind him, when Yu Ziyuan barges into his apartment.

By now Jiang Cheng knows Nie Mingjue well enough to know that no one could simply walk into this apartment, so he must have approved of this visit and Jiang Cheng repays him with his most fierce glare for that.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Mother,” Jiang Cheng greets Yu Ziyuan when she just expectantly raises an eyebrow at him and he wonders where the assassins are when you need them.

“You should put on more make-up when you go out, you look like death,” is the only thing Yu Ziyuan says and Jiang Cheng wonders why he still even bothers.

He looks like death because his wounds are hurting like a bitch every time they so much as get moved, which—considering their placement is every time he breathes—is every second of every day. He doesn’t sleep—trauma, most likely—and he barely eats and Nie Mingjue’s constant presence is not helping at all, either and honestly, Jiang Cheng would really just to either break down or have someone come for him again.

He isn’t quite decided about that yet, but he can’t say any of that out loud.

Instead he nods.

“I’ll make sure to remember.”

“See that you do,” Yu Ziyuan says and then turns to Nie Mingjue. “We hoped for more results at this point.”

The accusation in her tone is undeniable but Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem bothered by it. Jiang Cheng can only applaud him for his spine.

“It’s barely been a month,” he gives back, “and your social circles are extensive. It takes time to go through all of them.”

“Just concentrate on the most likely ones,” Yu Ziyuan snaps back. “We all know that Wen Ruohan is behind this since Wen Chao did this,” she says with a nod towards Jiang Cheng as if Wen Chao is the sole cause for Jiang Cheng’s entire existence.

Given how much his parents resent him, it might even be true. They probably thought they had to get a boy when Wen Ruohan got his second. Jiang Cheng wouldn’t even be surprised.

“We have to check all possible candidates,” Nie Mingjue gives back, just as calmly as before. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to speak about with you. The threat to his life is evident, and the possible suspects are many. I would like to remove him from the situation for a while.”

“You think he deserves a holiday for this?”

“I think he deserves to stay alive,” Nie Mingjue says and by now Jiang Cheng can hear the annoyance in his tone.

He never did quite figure out if Nie Mingjue likes him or not, and Jiang Cheng is too tired to really put any more thought into it than this, but moments like these made it seem like he did.

Or maybe that is just part of his job. Which is way more likely.

His mother turns to look at Jiang Cheng for a good long moment, and Jiang Cheng wonders what she sees, because when she turns back to Nie Mingjue, she nods.

“You will tell me where you take him and I get to see him regularly.”

“I will not disclose the location, and all communication will happen through me,” Nie Mingjue shoots back, clearly not at all scared of Yu Ziyuan, who is left speechless.

“The audacity you have,” she hisses and Jiang Cheng feels like a bystander in his own life, watching these two people make decisions about his life without asking him.

“You hired me to keep him alive, now let me do my goddamn job,” Nie Mingjue snaps right back and Jiang Cheng wonders who between these two is more stubborn.

Who gets to decide if he lives or dies.

Yu Ziyuan and Nie Mingjue stare at each other for a good minute before Yu Ziyuan turns around and walks out of the apartment.

“Thank you,” Nie Mingjue—unfailingly polite in the worst moments—calls after her and Jiang Cheng thinks he should probably feel something about this.

“I should probably go packing, then,” he mutters, his fate clearly decided but he stops, surprised, when Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“No. You’re not taking anything. There could be trackers or bugs, and I’m not taking that chance. You will find everything you need in the safehouse.”

“Oh, I see,” Jiang Cheng whispers and rubs a hand over the throbbing scars on his chest.

“It will be alright, Wanyin. I’ll find whoever is behind this,” Nie Mingjue tells him, his voice noticeably softer than just a moment before and Jiang Cheng wonders what the hell has to be wrong with him that the only thing he can think is I hope not.

~*~*~

Life at the safehouse is boring, if Jiang Cheng is honest. There is nothing for him to do; no work for the company, no press conferences, no calls he has to take or mails he has to answer.

It’s absolute heaven.

Well, it would be, if Nie Mingjue wouldn’t insist on therapy video sessions with Song Lan and if Jiang Cheng didn’t have to do physical therapy with Wen Qing and if Nie Huaisang could be a little less annoying at times.

Who even is Jiang Cheng kidding, even those things are goddamn great, compared to what he was going through before.

At least he’s trying to tell himself just that, when another one of his twice weekly therapy sessions leaves him crying and gasping for breath, upsetting his scars and just making him cry harder.

That he always tends to curl up during moments like these doesn’t help either.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says and on instinct Jiang Cheng’s shoulders curl inwards even more, trying to hide himself from Nie Mingjue, which is of course stupid, because clearly he saw him already.

“Come here,” Nie Mingjue softly says and tugs Jiang Cheng up, so that he can hug him and while the shame does nothing to help with his tears, the fact that Nie Mingjue’s chest is wide enough to stop Jiang Cheng from curling inwards does help with his chest pains.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng gets out between his sobs, because Nie Mingjue is his hired bodyguard, for Christ’s sake, he shouldn’t have to deal with all of Jiang Cheng’s emotional breakdowns.

“Don’t be,” Nie Mingjue immediately replies and moves a hand up and down Jiang Cheng’s back. “Never be sorry for feeling things.”

It only prompts Jiang Cheng to cry harder, because this is not something he is used to hearing. His father would have long left the room, his mother would have yelled at him and Wei Wuxian would have made fun of him. Even Jiang Yanli would have awkwardly petted his head and asked him to stop crying.

“I’m just—such a mess,” Jiang Cheng gets out, because for all that the sessions with Song Lan are helpful they unveiled just how fucked up Jiang Cheng truly is. “You shouldn’t even have to deal with all of this, you’re not—you’re my bodyguard!”

“Finally, you do remember,” Nie Mingjue says, but his voice is teasing enough that Jiang Cheng doesn’t immediately tense up again.

“I’m letting you do your job,” Jiang Cheng mutters, his tears finally slowing down and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“Yeah, now. After weeks of fighting me on it,” he replies and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

There’s still a small part of him that insist that it’s a waste of time and effort, keeping him alive, but he gets better at telling that part to shut up.

There are days where he doesn’t hear it at all, recently.

“It’s a process,” he whispers, repeating what Song Lan always says to him when he gets frustrated with himself and he can feel Nie Mingjue nod.

“And it takes time. Just take that time, alright?”

“I’m trying to,” Jiang Cheng says, and he can already feel how his breath comes faster at the thought that eventually Nie Mingjue will figure out who is behind this whole thing and then he’ll have to go back, to his family and his work and his old life.

“I can’t—” Jiang Cheng gasps out, a new panic attack already approaching him and Nie Mingjue simply holds him through it, gently humming a song under his breath and keeping his grounding hand on Jiang Cheng’s back.

“You must be so goddamn tired of me,” Jiang Cheng mutters, when he finally calms down for the second time and Nie Mingjue tightens his arms around him.

“I’m not,” he says, and his voice doesn’t allow Jiang Cheng to argue.

Jiang Cheng is glad that he can still pretend that his accelerated heartrate is because of the panic attack and not because of what Nie Mingjue just said, because that is a path he can’t go down at the moment.

Or ever. Ever sounds good.

He just has to remind himself that Nie Mingjue is hired to keep him alive.

But not to keep you sane, another, even tinier voice whispers. He’s not hired to do this.

Jiang Cheng jerks out of Nie Mingjue’s arms at that, because he can’t—he can’t—and he flees into the bathroom.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng knows it’s going to be bad when he comes into the living-room and he finds Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang waiting there.

“What is it?” he wearily asks and only sits down when Nie Mingjue motions for him to do so.

“We found who is behind this,” Nie Mingjue says and Nie Huaisang nods, though he seems just as unhappy as Nie Mingjue does.

“You mean Huaisang did,” Jiang Cheng tries to lighten the mood, because he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear this.

“I mean, I did the whole—” he wiggles his fingers “—gossipy thing and I did connect the dots via social media but—” he trails off, clearly unsure what he wanted to deny in the first place and Jiang Cheng straightens up.

“Well, then just hit me with it.”

Nie Mingjue shares a concerned glance with Nie Huaisang and it makes Jiang Cheng go cold.

He knows what’s coming.

“It was my father,” he whispers, suddenly seeing everything clearly and he feels very, very detached from himself.

It’s probably not a good sign.

“I told you we should have called Song Lan for this,” Nie Mingjue hisses and comes over to sit next to Jiang Cheng.

“I’m so sorry, Wanyin, but yes. Jiang Fengmian hired the hits.”

“He wants me dead so badly?” Jiang Cheng asks, his voice small and scared, just like he feels.

“He didn’t actually want you dead,” Nie Huaisang says with a wince. “He wanted you incapacitated enough to not be able to lead the company.”

Jiang Cheng reaches out and takes Nie Mingjue’s hand in his, feeling as if he’s going to simply float away if he doesn’t get to hold on to something.

Nie Mingjue squeezes his hand.

“He wants me crippled.”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue says, though he seems as happy about it as Jiang Cheng feels.

“I see,” Jiang Cheng says and then falls silent.

He thinks back to his life with his family, to his work, and his non-existent friends and free-time, thinks back to family dinners that left him sick to his stomach for days, phone calls with his parents that made him throw up in the toilet, meetings with his siblings that made him feel inadequate and invisible and everything in him revolts at the thought of going back to that, no matter if his father will be held accountable or not.

No matter if like this, his father would win, in the end.

“I don’t want to go back,” Jiang Cheng whispers and he can’t stop the tears that fall down. “I don’t want to ever go back there.”

He turns to Nie Mingjue, who is already looking at him.

“Please, I don’t want to go back there,” Jiang Cheng says again, and he only barely registers that Nie Huaisang has left the room.

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue starts, but then he winces and Jiang Cheng is already resigned for what’s coming next.

Nie Mingjue is just his bodyguard, after all.

“I know,” Jiang Cheng whispers and tries to take his hand back from Nie Mingjue, but he frowns when he won’t let him.

“My heart,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says and it takes Jiang Cheng a second to understand that he means him with that. “My heart, will you not stay with us?” Nie Mingjue asks and he brings up his other hand to swipe away the tears that are still flowing down Jiang Cheng’s cheeks.

“What?” Jiang Cheng breathes out, because Nie Mingjue is his bodyguard and nothing more but then Nie Mingjue rests their foreheads together.

“Wanyin, my heart, please. Just stay with us, here, okay? I don’t want you to go back.”

“Here,” Jiang Cheng repeats. “In the safehouse.”

Nie Mingjue huffs out a small laugh and brushes his lips over Jiang Cheng’s cheek.

It’s a good thing Jiang Cheng’s heart is already doing all kinds of crazy stuff, because that is certainly not helping.

“This is not a safehouse, my heart. It’s my and Huaisang’s personal home. I have an apartment in the city for work, but this is our home.”

“You—you brought me to your home?” Jiang Cheng asks, unsure what this means.

“Yes.”

“Why? I’m just a job for you.”

“You were,” Nie Mingjue admits and before Jiang Cheng’s heart can shatter he goes on. “Right until the moment you told me to leave the job because it didn’t matter to you if you lived or died. Then I got invested.”

“I’m not really—there’s still—” Jiang Cheng tries to tell Nie Mingjue, tapping his forehead when his words fail him, trying to make him understand that he’s still all kinds of messed up.

“That’s why you still have appointments with Song Lan,” Nie Mingjue gives back and brushes a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s other cheek. “Now, will you stay with us, here?”

“As your—” Jiang Cheng trails off, doesn’t want to make assumptions, despite Nie Mingjue’s actions and Nie Mingjue takes the opportunity to kiss him properly.

“Boyfriend. Partner. My heart.”

Jiang Cheng blinks a few times at those words, and he finally, finally allows himself to let all his feelings for Nie Mingjue out.

“Please,” he chokes out and then bites the tip of his tongue when a love confession wants to slip free as well.

He’s not ready for that. He thinks they both are not, not yet. But they will be eventually.

“Then stay.”

And Jiang Cheng does.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[bimswritings]

Armorer x Reder Pt. 2/2

Pt.1

Kofi

Ao3

Warnings: Typical Canon Type Violence

A/N: Part two for my love! Now that I've finished this, you can expect part three of the Savage fic, with the outline already nearly finished! Hope you enjoy, and until next time!~Bim

________________________________________

“What is the meaning of this?”

She had been expecting Paz to have come to her earlier, seeking answers for what had just transpired . It could be considered nothing short of a blessing from her ancestors that she had been allowed the time she was, for if he had arrived not five minutes earlier she surely would have not been able to answer him. Even now she found it hard to find her voice, swallowing thickly as she tried to dispel the invisible grip that held her. It was as if the dust from the rubble had infiltrated the filter of her helmet, invading her senses and clogging every sense with a layer of dust.

“The empire sent TIE bombers.” The vecoder of her helmet masked the cracking of her voice from the large warrior in front of her, lest she appear anything but unyielding even in such a moment. It did nothing to dampen the way it reverberated within however, and the echo fact was like a hit to the chest plate all over again.

“Were there any other survivors.”

A light shake of her head gave him his answer. Even if they were strangers to her, the carnage she had witnessed would have been a shock to anyone.

None had been spared from the Empire’s wrath. Not a single structure nor person was left standing, and at places there were little more than scorch marks burned into the ground, the only testament of what was once there. The burns matched those marring the flesh of the scattered bodies, which there was no shortage of. Most were too burned and damaged to tell age or gender and she had no doubts that there were more victims, either buried or bodies completely destroyed in the initial blast and still burning flames.

“How did they make it?” He questioned further, and unsurprisingly.

“Their house was located further outside the village. It received the least of the blast, though there is still no home to return to.”

Yet again she was thankful for your reclusive behavior. It was only thanks to your distance, and the armor she found you buried in, did you survive, though you weren't without injury.

As soon as she received your transmission she had turned back mid flight, making it there in record time. Having never used the transmitter before, the fact that you did so now expelled any worry she might have had over your previous encounter.

When she arrived to find what had happened, she had immediately started digging. Using every tool and ounce of strength at her disposal to move the rubble, looking for at least a body to confirm her fears.

At long last she had found you, body bloodied and arm twisted at an unnatural angle. It was a shock to her system, heart nearly stopping as she took in your still form, thinking you were surely dead. Gloved hands ghosted over your exposed skin and still attached armor, which itself was badly damaged. As well made as it was by your own hand and her careful guidance it still had trouble holding up to the immense weight and damage it took. The metal surface was marred with countless scratches and dents, even completely caved in at places. There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that you were already gone. There was no telling how long you had been under the rubble before she had arrived, and even if she had gotten there minutes after, your wounds were so numerous it would have been close.

Raw pain ripped through her as emotion broke through her carefully crafted dam, spilling out all at once over it’s months of accumulating, effectively taking grip over her entire being. She did not cry however. The ability to do such had been lost to her years before and would never come back. Instead, she simply held your body close as she knelt in the dirt, mourning what she had never had the chance of claiming. She had been so close. Her helmet showed that your heat signature had not even grown cold.

Taking her glove off, she reached for your own hand. Even if it was just once, she wanted to feel your skin against hers, without the barrier of metal or leather you both consistently wore. Fingers lacing your own, it once again brought a wave of sorrow crashing over her.

Your hands, strong and calloused from years of work, felt better pure Naboo silk to her own. They remained loose and unmoving, even as her own knuckles turned pale at the strength with which she grasped them. A silent plea to her ancestors, the maker; anyone who would answer the questions she herself didn’t know. Never having been one to believe that those unseen could have much of an influence on the living, she didn’t expect an answer. Only someone to shift the unbearable grief to.

Yet, as she lay mottionless over your corps, she received one. If her own hand hadn’t been so tightly clenched she may have missed it, and in her stay she thought she was imagining it. But then it happened. Again. Then again.

Your pulse, weak and uneven, but there.

Throwing herself back, she quickly changed the viewing mode on her helmet as she tried in vain to keep her hopes from rising. She knew very well it could just be her own that she was feeling and until there was concrete proof then-

There.

In the corner of her visor read your heart rate weak and uneven, just as she had felt before, but there.

She wasted no time pulling you from the rubble and nothing short of sprinting back to her ship, keeping in mind there were undoubtedly unseen and internal injuries as she did her best not to jostle around. She could only thank whatever force there was out there that she had taken the one ship of the coven that had a med chamber in it. Though it was well worn and outdated at best in comparison to the newer ones, it would serve her purpose until she could do something better.

The machine’s light humming reached through the air as it began working on your more severe wounds, the steady drone of the machinery a stark contrast to her own shaky hands as she piloted the ship off the cursed planet, making sure to keep an eye out for any lingering ships of the empire. It would only make your situation worse if you were to be caught in the middle of a firefight as your wounds were tended, though she did not even know if she would be able to gain enough control of herself to fly away from such an endeavor unharmed.

Once certain that there was no one following and they were out of range of the planet, she set the craft to autopilot and was back by your side immediately. The droid had just finished removing the armor from your body and tending to the majority of life-threatening wounds, moving on to what it could finish with the limited supplies it had. She had to resist grabbing your hand, instead putting the energy into pulling the medical log. Reading over it, her heart sized at the vast number and varying severity of each listing as she read further and further on.

Oblique-displaced fracture-R/Humorous, Transverse Fracture-R/Tibia, Hairline fractures of Ribs-R/arm/leg, Bruising of Kidney/Lungs/Liver, Puncture of R/Lung-Bone Frag. Removed-Origin-twelfth intercostal rib, Sever Grade four concussion, Multiple lacerations

She had no idea what had been fixed and what had not, but the number of bacta patches missing from the supply put a small ease on her, and the sight and sound of your slowly steady vitals was enough to keep her from jumping to extremes. She had no particular love for droids, though certainly not hating them as much as the young Din, the money spent to install the machinery was well used, even if the original purpose had been to heal warriors after missions with wounds that needed immediate attention.

That did not mean she found any time to rest on the way home, constantly watching for the slightest sign of life other than the low beeping of the monitor, and the ever so faint rise and fall of your chest as she counted each breath you took. The flight seemed to take double the amount of time it normally did, each second dragging on for eternity, until finally the landing gear of the Starjumper touched the surface of Nevarro. Thankfully it was night, and she had no issues once again lifting you into her arms and carrying you through the deserted streets to the coven. Its familiar coolness encompassed her as soon as she emerged from the stairs into the lower levels. The deathly silent halls were a stark contrast to her own panic.

Ignoring the guards, who’s attention faltered as they caught sight of her haul, she brushed past and headed straight to the only person who could help.

Olia, their healer, answered the door in her sleeping clothes, helmet clearly having been shoved on in her haste to answer the Armorer’s loud and incessant pounding on the door.

“What in the stars do you want this late..at..” Her sentence tapered off as she saw it wasn’t just a random idiotic warrior who had injured themselves, but her Alor, holding someone who clearly wasn’t Mandalorian.

“Fix them.”

The next few hours were a flurry of activity as Olia fixed what the med unit had not, resetting your afflicted arm which had been simply bandaged before and trying not to flinch at the nasty noises it made while doing so. Each thread of the needle to close skin together felt as if it were digging into her own flesh. Still, she watched, unable to tear herself away even as she knew in the back of her mind that rumor had already spread about her return. They would be looking for answers, and she would give them in due time. For now, they would have to practice patience just as she was.

Finally, two hours later, Olia was done. Wiping the sweat from the back of her neck as she admired her work, she explained the situation to the Armorer as she approached your bedside on stiff legs. She simply stared, not daring to touch when you looked so fragile. She hated it, the way your skin had lost its beautiful tone. The once powerful and proud posture she had seen stepping around the forge like a wild loth was nowhere to be seen. Your body seemed to have sunken in on itself, defensive even now.

“Her body is keeping itself under for now. Not surprising given the amount of trauma and injuries sustained, but if she does start to come around, I’ll give her something that should keep her under, or at least enough that she won’t register what’s going on. I would recommend it for as long as we can so that her wounds have time to heal without issue.”

She looked back over your still body, letting out a sympathetic sigh as she moved to do so.

“Even then, she’s not going to be moving around on her own too much any time soon. Wherever she came from, I hope they aren’t expecting her back anytime soon.”

The Armorer could feel the underlying question in her words, and for what she had done the women had earned her answer.

“That won’t be an issue. There is nowhere to go back to.” She looked away from your form for the first time, something that did not go unnoticed by the observant healer.

“She’s ours now. Treat her as you would any warrior, for she has fought just as bravely.”

She nodded solemnly. The Alor was know to always be serious and straight laced, but the way she was acting now gave way to more than words could ever tell. Tentatively, she rested a hand on her pauldron.

“Go. Get some rest. I can watch over her for now.”

The Armorer hesitated, feeling the lack of rest catching up as the adrenaline finally began to wear from her system. But to leave now would only leave her mind to wonder instead of knowing what was happening at every moment.

Olia sensed her hesitation, pushing her more firmly in the direction of the door.

“Once she’s more stable I will move her to a more comfortable bed. If there’s any changes then I’ll alert you but until then there’s nothing for you to do, and the others are bound to be wanting answers.”

Rod straight shoulders dropper slightly at her words, and a smile tore its way across the old woman’s face as she realized she had won.

Guiding her further out, she made sure the smith was out and well on her way to her own space before closing the door. What she didn’t see was that, instead of turning down the hall that led to individual dwellings, she instead turned right, down the path that would lead her to the only place she could think, to feel less powerless than she was right now. Her forge, where she fell heavily onto her work bench, unmoving as she stared blankly into the once comforting blue flames of the fire. Now they only acted as a painful reminder, thinking back to the times back in your own dwelling. She had yet to move, and Paz found her in the same position when he entered, leading to their current situation.

“I would never doubt your commitment to the tribe, but I must doubt the wisdom of bringing an outsider here! Into the heart of our tribe!”

Had she been in any other situation, she would have no hesitation in putting him back in his place. Heavy infantry expert and lead warrior or not, he had no right to speak in such a way to her. The only thing that saved him from her hammer and tongue was the fact her mind was still filled with thoughts of you. In this moment she even found herself thankful for his questioning. It meant that there was at least one person still thinking straight enough to be an effective leader in her stead.

“It’s her.”

“It's her?” he parroted the words, twisted with their own sense of confusion. “What do you mean it’s h-“ The words stuck mid-sentence as the wheels turned in his head, slowly putting the pieces together. From where he knew she was going, the small glimpse and rumors he had gotten from the others describing you, and the way his Alor was acting now, he was able to come up with his own relatively accurate assumption.

“The Smith.”

Her silence was his only answer, but it was all he needed.

Moving slowly, he settled his own large frame next to hers on the bench, which creaked under the weight. It felt odd, seeing her look so deflated and almost small. Even after years of putting on muscle from the forge and training, she still had nothing on him size wise. Though he was still positive she could beat him in a fight if it came to it, and she had countless times before.

His voice took on a softer, more rumbling tone.

“How did it happen?”

“The Empire. I only got there after they were gone, though there was really nothing left to go back to.”

He wanted to ask more, what they were doing there, why they chose such an outlandish, insignificant town, but he already knew. They both knew. It was because of them. While tolerated by the empire, both sides knew the other would wipe them out if given the chance. With so many going to one town multiple times, it was bound to draw attention. They had just been willing to believe that the Empire would turn a blind eye to it, just like they had with Nevarro.

How foolish of them.

Now they had dragged an innocent bystander, who had done nothing but help them and expecting nothing in return, into their fight, costing them not only their home but almost their life.

Though Paz was more akin to fighting than feelings himself, he could see the turbulence going on within her. Years of being what one might consider confidents let him know everything he needed to.

“She’ll pull through. From what you’ve told me, she’s strong. Not to mention she has Olia looking after her. And besides,” he stood up, walking out to give her space to do what she did best. To think, and come up with the next best plan of action for them to take.

“I still have yet to meet this mysterious smith.”

_______________________________________________

You had never been much of a morning person. Waking up bright and early just to face the scorching heat of your planet's twin suns combined with that of your forge didn’t make for a promising work day. Alas, that was when a majority of customers would come looking for wears and weapons, as well as to hire your services. Even though you preferred working during the marginally cooler nights, you still braved the day, gritting your teeth and dragging your feet as you forced your body into motion. As hard as it had always been then, it was nothing compared to how you were feeling now.

Every fiber of your being felt as if it had been run over by a Loshev, then further trampled on. Not even in the early times of your apprenticeship, when you had gone to bed with the inability of even being able to lift your arms to fold back the blankets after lifting your hammer an immeasurable amount of times, had you ever felt this sore. Everything from head to toe hurt, and the thought of moving at all was enough to fill your body with a sense of dread.

Instead of doing so, you settled on just getting your eyes open, which itself proved to be a difficult task. They felt as if the skin itself was welded together; made of Kiern metal as they dragged open painfully.

Darkness was the first thing you saw. Shapes and colors only came along after a few moments as your eyes adjusted. Blurred objects slowly came into focus as you took in your surroundings.

You were in a dimly lit room, the only source of light coming from a small lantern hanging from the wall. It’s glow cast drastic shadows on each object, giving the unfamiliar space a touch of comfort with its warm light. The furnishings themselves were rather bare, consisting of only a few boxes stacked on top of one another with small trinkets of one kind or another littered around, and the bed which you currently resided on.

Pulling the blankets aside, you hissed at the way your body groaned in protest, feeling as if every nerve were on fire. It appeared that the lantern also provided the only source of heat because as soon as the surprisingly quality blanket left you were subjugated to the cool air of the small space. You noted areas of bandages scattered all over your body, covering most of your arm and spilling across your torso. The scratchy material could also be felt under your pants, catching on the material and rubbing uncomfortably at your temples.

Pushing yourself into a sitting position, your head swam as the pounding from within increased, leaving you gasping for breath. As much as it hurt, you had to keep moving. You didn’t know where you were, or who was around. The last thing you remember was the walls of your home coming down around you as fighters screamed overhead. For all you knew, you were being held by some backworld smuggler who intended to use you for profit, working to make weapons or using your body for other means. Bandaged wounds or not, you had to get out before the choice was taken away.

Getting to your feet was, unexageratly, one of the most difficult things you had ever done. Your legs gave out as soon as they touched the ground, forcing you to use a majority of upper body strength to drag your way across the room to the door on the opposite wall. It was far from graceful, and there was even a point where you bumped into one of the various stacks of crates. It was nothing more than a little bump, but enough to knock a precariously placed holoboard from its perch on the edge.

Clattering to the floor loudly, it only prompted you to move faster, the fear of someone having heard the ruckus and coming to investigate. You prayed to the maker that wasn’t the case, but with the luck you had been having lately it should have been no surprise when the door opened with a loud creak. A shadow fell over your crawling form, and you looked up expecting the worst. Someone like a pirate or scavenger, maybe even an enforcer. What you weren’t expecting was a child, or what you assumed was one at least.

The person standing in the doorway was small. They were just shy of reaching halfway up the frame, lithe frame hunched in on itself from what you could see peeking around the opening. It was hard to tell their exact age, due to the achingly familiar helmet they wore. While far from being a replica, it was still close enough to that of your beloved Armorer to send a pang through your already aching body. The polished metal reflected the new light of the hall in an almost blinding manor. An owlish visor stared down at your form, just as frozen as you were.

Then, before you could react, they were gone. Light footsteps echoed down the corridors, growing more and more faint until they disappeared completely, leaving you in silence once again. There was only a moment of hesitation before you were on the move once again, now with a reinvigorated urgency.

Finally making it to the door, you used the frame to pull yourself up, gasping all the while as sharp jolts of pain stemmed from every part of your body. Emerging from the room you were met with the sight of similar metal walls as the room. They extended in both directions, the one to your left extending into darkness while there were two branching paths on the right. While having no idea where exactly you were and no reference on how to get out, you still pushed forward.

Heading right, your path was lit by only the occasional light on the wall. Some were the normal low lights that could be found on virtually any planet, while others were a more archaic version using oil and gas were scattered in between. You could tell you were most likely somewhere underground judging from the cool, damp feel the air carried. Either that or you were on an already cold planet, as judging from the state of the room you woke in, it was doubtable that you were in such a place that would waste resources on high quality cooling.

Reaching the split path, you paused, giving yourself a moment to breathe and recuperate as you listened carefully down each. The left was dead silent, almost unnervingly so, and for a moment you thought the second was the same. However, the light flicker of the nearest flame caught your attention. It moved consistently back in the direction you came, not like how it would normally; and with how much of your life had been spent staring and carefully watching such flames it was almost childs play to tell it was being manipulated by something else. Listening closer once again, you could hear it. The slight whisper of the wind. It’s draft was light, almost undetectable, but if you enough it was there. Gently caressing your skin and whispering promises of a way out.

It was a slow go, and painful the entire time. Your body gave not a moment of relief, in just as much pain as when you woke up if not more. It was hard to even take a full breath. Your lungs felt as if they would burst with each inhale. It was as if the air itself was made of fire. The pain didn’t leave much room for thought, but those that you did have were for the armored warrior you had been so abruptly reminded of earlier.

You had no idea where she was now, or if she even knew what had happened. The message may have never even gotten through, and while the Mandalorians were always well informed of the events going on around the galaxy you had no idea how long you had been here. It could be just a night or day; maybe even a week. She only visited every thirty rotations, so she could only find out when she came by for her next visit, only to find nothing but ash.

Would she mourn your supposed death, or would it be more so due to the loss of a weapons provider and face they could use to get supplies and information without knowing who it was really going to? Maybe it would be a relief not to have to worry about any information about them being uncovered. A loose end tied up without them having to do any of the work.

The thought of her throwing whatever connection you thought you had away, especially after having fallen so hard for the strong woman, hurt your heart almost as much as your body. It was a mortifying thought, and one that distracted you from not only the pain for a moment, but also caused a lapse in judgment that allowed your pursuers to get so close. It was only too late that you heard their footsteps echoing behind you in the dimly lit hall. A new wave of fear coursed through your body, pushing you further as they got closer to you, and yourself finally emerging into a larger section of the hall. This one had alcoves lining the top of the wall, allowing the moonlight and cool night air from outside to filter in and drain the hope from your body. The entire time you thought you were getting closer to a way out, you had just been losing yourself deeper in the maze of the unfamiliar compound. It was cruel for fate to do so, but there was nothing to be done now. Not when your pursuers were getting so close.

Your eyes darted around the small area, locking for a place to hide or at least a weapon to defend yourself with, before settling on one of the many alcoves. It was under the small windows that allowed the traitorous light and breeze in, leaving it bathed in darkness.

Thinking quickly, you limped over and forced yourself into the narrow space. It was plenty tall, but so thin it forced your shoulders straight and grated on your exposed skin as you slipped in. Here, your breaths sounded even louder and more labored, forcing you to muffle them with your hand and making it even harder to breathe. It wasn’t the best spot, and quite obvious now that you thought about it, but there was no time to find a new one as a group burst in through the arch you had emerged from seconds prior.

It was hard to see with your eyes still adjusting to the dimness of your little space combined with the light blur they still held, and you simply squeezed them shut, unable to watch as you listened to them get closer to your hiding spot, and focused on remaining as silent as possible. One hand clamped over your mouth, the other wrapped around your body as it squeezed as tightly as possible, as if it were the only thing keeping you together.

You could hear them talking. Their voices sounded muffled even as they bounced off the cold stone walls, and they spoke in low tones that made it nearly impossible to hear. A few still made their way through however.

‘Escaped’ ‘gone far’ ‘Find them-’ ‘kill’

The last word sent a shiver down your spine. It was only made worse as one of the group got closer than any had yet stopped mere feet away. The rough, damp stone dug into your skin as you pushed yourself further back, duly noting the itching pull of your wounds as they grew heated.

They were going to find you, and once they did they were going to kill you, or worse.

A moment passed. Then two. Then several more, all waited out with tension so thick it would put any ship hull to shame, before the shadowy figure retreated. Their own footsteps faded in with the others as they moved on in search of their present target of you, continuing to head down the maze of halls.

Even once they were gone you didn’t allow yourself to relax for a full minute, too fearful of them coming back. But as the momentarily spike in adrenaline wore off and your current position became increasingly uncomfortable, you allowed yourself to relax. Greedily gulping in as much air as your recovering lungs would allow, you were doubled over as you tried to recover. That position, combined with the increasingly loud pounding in your ears, left you unaware of your surroundings and defenseless against the shadow that unknowingly approached.

Their arm reached in, easily pulling you from your hiding place and out into the open.

“N-no! Stop!” You fought back weakly, pushing away at the figure that held you in an iron grip, not yet painful but refusing to budge as you clawed at it uselessly.

“Please.” It was a whimpering, pathetic sounding plea. One born of desperation and fear. Never in your life would you think yourself to sink to such levels, yet here you were, bracing for the pain you knew would come. They would drag you back, either to that little room or somewhere even more secluded, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You braced as the person shifted, recoiling as they brought their free hand up. You expected a hit, a slap. Something that would daze if not knock you completely out. What you weren’t expecting was the gentle caress of fingers along the skin, tracing along your cheek and following its slope up, where it gently rested, silently urging you to open your eyes and raise your gaze.

There was hardly a chance to be confused by the action before a sense of familiarity hit. Worn leather, softer than porg fur and just as warm despite the chilly environment, was stained with the smell of oil and sharp tang of metal. It was a scent that you had thought of many times, haunting your thoughts at night as you wished to be nothing more than wrapped in its comfort.

With a shuddering breath, you forced yourself to look up into the visor of your captor.

The gold of her helmet seems even brighter now as the light of the moon causes it to practically radiate under its glow, starkly contrasting the inky darkness of the owlish visor as it tilts in a way that gives away her concern.

There’s a moment of silence as you simply stare at one another, an exchange of silent emotion as you take each other in.

“Tracinya’ika…” The voice that flows from her helmet is akin to a whisper, seeming almost impossibly soft for such a warrior. However quiet, it’s enough to break the last of your resolve. The Armorer catches you as your legs give out, exhaustion finally catching up. She doesn’t say a thing, simply letting you bury your face in the warm fur covering clasped over her shoulders as you silently hiccup and stutter.

“H-how did I get here? The last thing I remember is-” your unable to finish, screams of the villagers mingling with tie fighters coming to the surface along with a crushing, constricting feeling gripping your chest, as if you were trapped under the rubble once again.

Seeming to sense your thoughts, the Armorer places a comforting hand on your lower back to lead you away. When it becomes apparent that there’s no way you’ll be walking on your own, she pauses a moment, before bending down and sweeping you off your feet to carry you bridal style down the hall, past the other Mandalorians that had appeared without a sound. They were silent as she passed, though their curiosity was almost tangible. She paid them no mind however, easily carrying you through the dim halls and allowing you to once again bury your face into the fur of her cowl. If she minds she says nothing of it.

“There is much to explain.” Her voice rumbles, vibrating through her chest and against your cheek. “But you have been through much. For now, rest. When you awake, you can ask as many questions as you like.”

You wanted to argue, to protest, but there was no energy left to do so. Your escape attempt had left you drained. Instead, you simply let your head rest against the chilled metal of her armor, allowing the gentle sway of her walk to lull you back to sleep without the fear of what was to come, knowing you were safe as long as she was around.

____________________________________

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

You froze, the crate of rations you were about to hand to the man next to you blocking your vision from the worst of the glare you could already feel. That barrier was shortly removed, leaving you exposed to the cross Mandalorian.

It had been foolish to think you would be able to sneak off without her knowing. Nothing went on in these tunnels that she didn’t know about. If you didn’t know any better you may think that she had monitors hidden around the place, or maybe even a tracking device to keep tabs on you. It was more likely someone had mentioned your whereabouts in passing, or she had come for one of her usual check-ins throughout the day.

“You should not be up and about, none the less moving supplies.” Her gaze snaps to the others, who were all similarly frozen as they watched. You felt slightly guilty, knowing they didn’t deserve her wrath.

“Why would you let her in here? If the cold doesn’t make her sick then the labor will only make her recovery that much longer.”

The man visibly flinched at her tone, her attention now focused on him as the others slowly back away, letting him take the blame.

“Well, I just thought-”

“You clearly did not, else she would not be working herself to the bone.”

She takes a step closer to the man, sending him into a panic as he quickly backpedals, stammering.

“Hey.” You grab her arm, instantly shifting her attention back to you. Unlike the others, you don’t shrink back or even flinch. Instead you stare back into the darkness of her helmet. “It’s not his fault. I told him it was alright, that I was fine to work.”

The Armorer stares a moment longer, glancing back once more at the others before grabbing you by the hand, shoving the crutch you had been using since your leg healed enough to put weight on into your hand and dragging you away. She continues to scold you as she walks, never pausing in her climb from the lower levels as she continues to make you feel more and more like a child.

“There is no reason for you to have to work in your condition. Olia said rest would do you best.”

“That was weeks ago.” You huff, using the wall to stabilize yourself a bit better as you attempt to keep up with her quick pace. “And it’s only right that I do something to pull my own weight, especially after all that you and the others have done for me.”

“You have already done enough for us, and once you are fully healed I know you will continue to help. Until then I implore you to rest.”

The concern she held made you blush, her complimenting words nearly winning you over. Too stubborn for your own good however, your tongue speaks your thoughts before you can stop it.

“I know, but I can’t help but feel that I’m taking advantage of you. I just want to be, you know, useful.”

Your words cause her to pause, nearly causing you to collide with her back, sending a glance over her shoulder to your deflated figure. Logically she knows that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to help out, even sending a streak of pride through her at your eagerness to help her people, but the small voice constantly hounding her and leading to her protectiveness was too loud to ignore.

To your surprise, instead of heading down the left hall to what you knew would lead to the room you had been set up in since arriving, she turned to the right. Following cautiously, you looked about with wide eyes, having never been down this way before despite being her for weeks now. There were still many parts of the tunnels you didn’t know, mainly memorizing the paths to important places such as the communal area, storage rooms(which were the easiest to sneak off to help in), and of course the forge.

Soon enough you enter another section. The smell of metal and oil hits as soon as you step over the threshold, taking you by surprise. It was even stronger here than the forge, which was saying something. Though with the number of weapons and armor lining the walls it was to be expected. Every inch of the room, from the ceiling to the floor and even laying in piles were weapons. The order with which they were all organized in was impressive, not a single piece out of place in the organized chaos. And there, in the middle of it all, was one of the biggest men you had ever seen.

Your own father had been large, standing at six five, and while this man seemed to be slightly shorter he more than made up for it with width. Shoulders like a rancore, with hands so large they made you jealous of the potential grip strength, he looked as if he could snap you without a second thought. It’s not as if you were some petite thing in your own right, yet you felt dwarfed for one of the first times in your life.

As soon as he noticed you enter, he stood, his head bowing in acknowledgement.

“Alor.” He helmet shifted towards you, unconsciously forcing you further behind your bronze protector. “How can I help you?”

She shifts to the side, exposing you further as her hand gently rests against the small of your back, pushing you further towards the giant.

“It seems our newest friend can’t sit still. Unfortunately I can not watch them at all times to ensure they do not sneak off, but I know I can trust you to watch and keep them entertained.”

His head tilts, studying you closer as your heart jumps to your throat. In the process of trying to pull your own weight, you were now nothing this man with having to babysit you.

“I’m sure he has better things to do. If we just go back I could-”

“No. You will stay with Paz until I come for you. He will keep you from sneaking to the lower levels and lifting boxes.” A warning lay under her tone, both for you and Paz. His helmet dips in a nod once again, silently accepting his new instructions as she lightly ruffles your hair, pulling back only when your hand swats at hers.

“Do not worry. I am sure you two will get along just fine. I’ve had enough trouble keeping him away as it is.” Before you could try and argue once again she was gone, turning on heel and heading back down the passage. Great. Now you were alone with a giant and potentially grumpy Mandalorian while surrounded by weapons, which was both potentially good and bad.

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and turned back to Paz, as he had been called. He was still standing, watching as you cautiously approached.

“H-hello there.” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering, only imagining what he might think of you now. Still, you powered on. “You’re name is Paz, right? I’m-”

“I know who you are.” He cuts you off, flopping back down into his seat as he picks up the weapon he had previously been inspecting.

“Oh….You do?”

He snorts. “Everyone knows who you are. You made quite the entrance.”

You flush, still embarrassed you had made such a spectacle arriving. Definitely not how you had hoped to meet such esteemed warriors, bloody and defeated. He seemed to sense your embarrassment.

“No matter. I’ve known about you before then.” He twirled the blaster in his hand, one that you now recognized as your own craft. “Been a fan of your work for a while.”

Gesturing to the bench across from him, you soon found yourself becoming comfortable with the blue man. Within the hour you had relaxed completely, joking around with him as he answered any questions you had about the location of rooms or the odd Mandalorian you had yet to talk with. The conversation quickly shifts to, of course, weapons, as you talk about the ups and downs of each design.

“It’s good to have someone to talk with like this. Nobody back on Quilon were interested in the craft of weapons. They just cared if they shot or not.” He took the weapon you had just finished checking, looking for nicks or spots needing maintenance, and handed you another. It was a small mercy he had granted you. While not a physically demanding task it was enough to keep you busy and feeling useful. There was a lot to get through after all, and he surmised there was no one better to check weapons then one who knows their ins and outs.

“While many like to use the weapons, they don’t get too familiar with their inner workings.”

“That’s why we’re here though.” You point out, only causing him to sigh.

“Yes, but if I have to fix one more blaster that simply has a residue build up that could be solved with a good cleaning I’m going to strangle them.”

“I’m glad she brought me here. What she’s done, what you’ve all done, is amazing. If I could spend my life working alongside her it would be more than enough.

He pauses, in the middle of sharpening a skinning knife, his helmet tilting up before going back to his work. “I’m sure she would be delighted to hear so. You should tell her yourself.”

You pause, confused. “What do you mean? She already knows that I want to continue making weapons for you all.”

Now you had his full attention, staring back at one another across the small gap as you both tried to discern the others thoughts. His words made no sense. She knew your intentions to stay, so why would you need to explain any further? You wanted to stay, more specifically just for her, but there was no way you could just tell her that. To risk ruining everything you had built between the two of you? Just for some silly little crush? No thank you. You were content being as useful to her as you could now, relishing in the little crumbs of affection you received now.

“You have to be kidding me.” He finally says, breaking the silence. “She literally calls you ‘ni tracinya’!”

You blink owlishly, still not understanding. Your Mandoa was still coming along. As of now you only knew a few words, mostly greetings and curse words, much to the amusement of the clan and the disdain of the Armorer.

He throws his hands in exasperation, head practically slamming back into the wall behind him. “It means ‘my flame’ for makers sake! Listen,” He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees as his voice takes on a more serious tone. “Think real hard, back to when you first came here. You’re telling me you haven’t noticed anything?”

Now that he mentions it, you do remember some odd things that you had never really put into question before now.

When you had first been cleared to move out of bed by Olia, the Armorer had insisted on moving you to a room closer to the forge, claiming its warmth would do you better then the cooler parts of the tunnels where the injured normally stayed. You had been cautious, unsure of being so close to the center of the tribe space and felt as if you were being invasive. She had assured you it was only temporary, to sooth your concerns you suspected, though that was quickly thrown out the window as the small space quickly collected a number of trinkets thanks to the little ones. After overcoming their initial hesitancy and fear of being an outsider, they were constantly bringing small objects and bits of easily bent and cut pieces of metal for you to make things out of, trading your creations for their own crude versions. The majority were from the Armorer however, and you treasured those the most. They were nothing extravagant, certainly not to the level of detail you would go into, but you wouldn’t have expected her to. Her focus was always more on practicality, though that’s not to say her works weren’t beautiful in their own right. Your own just placed more emphasis on the small details, and you were allowed the time and pleasure of putting them there.

She had brought you all your meals during that time, eventually evolving to the point where you would enjoy them together in her forge when you were well enough, your backs pressed to one another with a covering tightly wrapped around your eyes. Hardly was there a time when you weren’t greeted with the warm shine of her armor, the fur she wore brushing your skin and sending shivers down your spine with how close she stood at times. Her hand would constantly be touching your back or shoulder, holding your wrist as she led you through the halls even when you knew the way. There were many nights you would fall asleep in the forge, lulled by it’s warmth and the familiar sound to metal striking metal. It both soothed and made the itch to work once more that much worse.

The memory brought on a shy smile, accompanied by a light flush across your skin. It was times like that when you could allow yourself to wish, to hope, that you might mean something more than just a friend or fellow smith.

Just as soon as the thought arrived you were quick to banish it. Dreaming of the impossible would only bring more disappointment. And so, with a small laugh and roll of your eyes, you implored Paz to put it to rest; and to his credit, he did. The thought still lingered on your mind however, and you wanted to curse him for putting it there.

You continue to check and clean the weapons in peace, avoiding any and all conversation surrounding the previous topic until dinner. Or what you thought was around the right time. It seemed that even with all the time spent in the dark tunnels you had yet to gain the innate ability to just tell what time it was without looking at a clock. Paz sure knew though, racking his weapon with you following his lead.

“Your company wasn’t as annoying as others, and your weapons knowledge and appreciation is respectable, though I would expect nothing else from someone in your situation.” He reached his hand out, watching as you realized he wanted you to shake it. His hands were just as strong as you had thought, firmly grasping your own as you got into a small battle trying to squeeze the other. “Feel free to find me any time you’re bored. Keep Alor from getting frustrated and who knows, once you heal enough I might be able to teach you how to fight for the next time you run into any imperial troops.”

“That sounds...great.” He dropped his arm, handing you your walking stick and leading you back through the tunnels to the communal area as you added the new path to your mental map. His large strides were hard to keep up with, and though you suspected he had adjusted his pace you were still out of breath by the time you reached your destination. Inside the circular space there were a number of mandalorians lounging around. Children ran amuck, some helmed some not, weaving between the adults and ignoring their complaints. As soon as you entered a crowded space they descended like a swarm. Small hands pulled at your clothes, climbing up your non injured leg. After the scolding they had received last time they made sure to give your injuries a wide berth.

They were clamoring, all trying to be first to show you the small projects that had been working on or made that day. The others looked on with mild amusement, or so you assumed that's what was shown behind their visors. There were many jokes passed around that you were turning their young warriors into inventors and thinkers, though you hardly saw it as a problem. Exploring bright minds and exercising critical thinking skills would only make them that much better in any tight situations. It’s not like they couldn’t do both after all.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, bouncing over the family colors painted in intricate patterns on armor as you looked for one in particular.

“She’s still in the forge.” You jumped, causing your current passengers to squeal as they were nearly thrown from your elevation to the ground. Olia stepped closer, shooing the children away, causing a ruckus of groans and complaints, but nevertheless did as they were told. They knew better than to disrespect an elder, and their medic at that. Placing two ration portions into your hands, she’s already pushing you down the main hall.

“Never a moment of rest for that one.” She jokes, turning on her heel and heading back into the common area before you even have a chance to speak.With nothing more than a shrug, you continue on, walking the by now familiar path to deliver the food.

Warmth is the first thing that greets you, a heavenly contrast to the otherwise cold and damp dwelling. Not that you hated it, but growing up on a planet with two suns and working in a forge for the majority of your life made anything below blazing feel like Hoth. The clang of metal striking metal rings clear and crisp, but as owled eyes catch your movement, the hammer pauses mid strike, afloat for just a moment before quickly being deposited back into her belt.

Holding up the ration packs for her to see, she’s already moving, fluidly packing up her project and clearing a space as you pull the bench from the wall, settling on the wood with a light creak. Not long after, gloved hands found your skin, briefly brushing over your cheeks and causing butterflies to erupt throughout your body, setting every nerve on fire as the soft fabric of the blindfold replaced her hands. It wasn’t something you ever questioned or protested, simply content being allowed the level of trust such an action required, though you would often question what you had done to earn such an honor from an esteemed figure such as herself. The tools along her belt clicked softly, the only thing telling her location as she closed the shutters to the forge.

Not a word was said the entire time, and you didn’t need any. The practice had been born after she had gotten on your back about finishing meals, only to have you express your awkwardness of eating alone while she watched, combined with your own concern with her eating enough. She was always working, crafting new armor and weapons, or meeting with elders and warriors to discuss and organize the smaller aspects of clan life. The disregard she had for her own health when she always put so much work into that of others was both adermable and frustrating. It became one of the few things you could do during the day, making sure she had eaten and stayed hydrated in the heat of the forge. Dinner was the only time she sat down however, enjoying whatever rations or food had been chosen for the night.

After the blindfold was on and your own ration pack was in hand, it wasn’t long before you felt her warmth at your back as she too settled down on the bench. The fur of her cowl tickled your skin, telling you of how close she sat. Then you just talk. Telling her about your day and the new things you had learned.

“Introducing me to Paz almost makes up for the scene earlier.” You joke “His knowledge of weapons and their care is amazing. I can see myself getting closer with him.”

You could have imagined it, but you could swear you felt her tense behind you.

“Not too close I would imagine. Olia has informed me that you should be cleared to go back to work within a week or two.”

Perking at her words, you grew excited. It had been so long that you had begun to think you would never craft again.

“I’m glad to hear that. I already worry about the muscle mass I’ve lost since being laid up.” Laughing, you bump your shoulders against hers. “I feel like my shoulders are only half their size now, everything all atrophied and squishy.”

She’s silent, and you think the joke just fell flat, or she’s simply tired from the day.

“So you enjoyed staying with Paz today. I can assume that means I won’t have to worry about you sneaking off if I leave you with him again?”

“No.” Chuckling, you set down the now empty ration container. There’s no rush for her to finish, as you enjoy these small moments. It’s easy to pretend to be something more, something closer.

It may have been the comforting warmth of her body combined with that of the forges own heat and scents, or simply the exhaustion that came with having been able to do actual work for the first time in weeks. Either way, your tongue was loose and words flowed without thought.

“It’s hard to believe I’m here. I never thought I would ever go anywhere besides Quilon. It’s where my family has lived since forever. My mother and father, my grandparents, their parents and so on. We’ve all come from the same planet. After they died I was scared to even think about traveling. I thought that if I left I would be alone. The forge was the only thing I had left even close to family.”

Losing it had been hard. When you had first heard the news after waking it had felt like you were crushed by its foundation all over again. Olia and the Armorer had to practically force you to eat, not having the energy to do even want to get out of bed. Recovery had been slow, especially when there was nothing to go back to. It was around the time she let the children into your room, tasking them with keeping an eye on you while she tended to the clan duties she had been neglecting. It was the young ones, so bright and full of energy, that pulled you from the slump. As soon as your crafting skills were discovered after absentmindedly making a flower out of paper scraps they had all but demanded you show them more. Leading you through the tunnels and teaching you games had come after. Soon enough you were almost back to normal, able to smile and laugh once again.

It had nearly broken her to see you in such a state. The fire your eyes had once held had been reduced to little more than smoldering ash, while the glow that radiated seemed to radiate from your skin itself had dimmed. You had lost everything to the empire, but Maker be damned if she wasn’t going to do her best to give it back and then some.

“Would it be wrong of me to say it was a good thing?” She jerked at your words, taken by surprise.

“And why would that be?”

“Well, I got to meet all of you. Olia, Paz, even the young ones. You’ve all been so kind to me.” A slight hesitation, unsure if the next words would be stepping over boundaries.

No. You had come this far, and knowing her she would only pry in that aloof way of hers until you divulged a proper answer.

“Even if none of you feel the same way, I like to think that you’ve become something of a family to me. It’s been so long since I've known what it's been like to be a part of a family, so that’s what I think this feeling is at least.” A deep breath, pushing the words that seemed to catch. You can’t live feeling like this anymore, Paz’s words coming back to you once again and giving you a small amount of confidence.

“I would like to be a part of your family. With you, that is.”

With bated breath, you wait. She’s silent, but not in the way she normally is. It’s more calculated, the air itself charged. Heart pounding in your ears, you're not sure if you would have even heard her answer. Instead of any words however, you find yourself blinded by the light of the flames as your blindfold is practically ripped off, revealing the cause of your emotional rollercoaster herself, helmet back on yet with a gaze more intense than you’ve experienced yet.

“I have always been content with my deal in life. I provide for my clan, do my best to lead and keep them safe. True leaders are those that are selfless, however,” her hand grasps yours, pulling you closer. The cool feel of her helmet sends shivers down your spine; a stark contrast to your own burning skin. “But since I have met you, I have been nothing but selfish. I want everything that you are; from your body to your soul.”

Getting up, she leads you to the far corner of her forge. A small strike of disappointment hits as she lets go of your hand to dig through one of the storage compartments. It quickly dissipates as she emerges with an all too familiar item.

You gasp. It was a helmet, just like the one you had been working on and lost on Quilon. The real one was lost, but the one before you took many of the elements you had worked into your own and combined them with a more traditional Mandoan style. The eyes had the same wider vision you had been incorporating. A combination of the classic t-visor with the more elegant swooped eyes that females seemed to favor. The jawline was also slightly more convex then normal, allowing for greater range of the head and felt less claustraphobic. Other than that, it seemed she had taken her own creative liberties and upon closer inspection you saw it was eerily similar to her own. Instead of bronze it was a silvery blue, the same three lines running down the forehead with only two horns, looking as if they were coated in the bronze color as her own. Etched into each of the cheek recesses was a hammer and tongs respectively, done in the same elegant etching found on many of your own weapons.

“I will not push you to make a decision, but I do wish you to know; if you pledge yourself to the creed, to the tribe, to me, you will never find yourself alone again. I will personally make sure of it.” Her voice barely makes its way past the vecoder. Never before had she spoken in such a gentle tone, even to yourself.

“You will be mine as I will be yours.”

Taking the helmet in your own hands, the surprising lightness of such a large metal object nearly causes you to throw it. Turning it over and inspecting every inch, you know you’re only delaying the inevitable. For so long you wanted to be part of a family, to help and be more than just a weapons crafter. Furthermore, the very person you wished, no, yearned, to spend the rest of your life with was the one to ask.

“To spend the rest of my life by your side, providing for the tribe, would be all too short.” Smiling, you pull the helmet, your helmet, closer.

For a second you think she’s short circuited, frozen in place. Then, quick as a blaster shot, she grabs your arm and drags you from the forge, all but throwing the shutter open and practically running down the hall as you struggle to keep up with your still sore leg. Briefly you catch a flash of familiar blue armor, but it's gone before you can get a good look. Instead you focus on keeping pace with the bronze warrior.

“Wh-where are we going.���

Others are watching as you pass, moving out of your path as their Alor continues her war path.

“The elders.” She says without stopping and, not winded in the slightest as, in one fell swoop, you find yourself swept into her arms and being carried bridal style as her pace continues to pick up speed. An impressive move if you hadn’t been so shocked.

“We have much to prepare.”

[supercorpkid]

This is why you should never trust an Imp – Part 2.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2376.

You are going to be ok. It’s what you keep telling yourself. So what if there is no you in the future? In two days, that imp is coming to pick you up, and you’ll go back to your own timeline and you’ll be written back into existence.

But what if he doesn’t come? What if that lying cheating bastard leaves you stranding two years into the future where no one knows about your existence and you’re totally alone? You need help. Who can help you besides your moms? Alex, Kelly, Jamie… Jamie! You wonder if Jamie is still around.

You fly to school. You’re still a teenager so, keep your head down, blend in. You can do it. Lucky for you is lunch time, that means you can talk to Jamie freely. You make your way to the table you two usually sit, but she isn’t there. Jamie is a few tables away, in a cheerleader uniform (wait, excuse her?), surrounded by a lot of people.

Ok. That makes sense. You don’t exist here, so she was never stuck with you in the first place, and the only reason why she doesn’t have any friends, is because she is always with a freaking Luthor. And people don’t like Luthors. So, what do you do now?

“Hey, Jamie.” Everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at you. You smile embarrassed. Jamie looks at you with curiosity for a second. Your heart beats faster. Maybe she’ll recognize you. Maybe she’ll remember everything, she’ll remember the conversation on the training center and she’ll know you did the dumb thing, but she’ll help you anyway.

Her face turns back to no expression, like you saw it on both of your moms’ faces. She doesn’t know you at all. Your heart drops one more time, and you can’t take this expression anymore.

“Can I, um, talk to you?” You force yourself to speak. You don’t even know what you’ll say to her, but still, you need to talk to your best friend.

“Why is that nerd talking to you, Jamie?” Someone says and she smiles at the joke.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen this weirdo before.” She answers, making everyone laugh.

“Scatter, nerd. We don’t want anyone to see you around us.” One of her friends says and you take a deep breath. You know when you’re defeated. So, you turn on your heels and leave. Before leaving school, you take one last look behind you. Jamie seems happy. Happier than you’ve ever seen her. She has friends and there’s a guy practically glued to her, and you can only imagine they are dating.

It’s a weird feeling. You always thought you and Jamie were an inseparable combo, but apparently a freaking imp can separate you two. Rao, you hate him so much!

No time to waste dwelling on this hate. You need somebody else to help you. Maybe you could fly to Superboy and ask for his help. He probably would believe you since he got in so many dumb situations himself. You just need to find him. You fly the whole country and you can’t seem to locate him. Where is Conner? Is he not in the future? Or in this reality?

You sit on top of a tower, and try to think. Lena found out how to combine the alien and human DNA, you know that much. You also know that you and Superboy are about the same age. So maybe, they’ve used Lena’s research to create him. If that’s the case, if CADMUS stole Lena’s research and created Conner, you not existing also made him not exist in this timeline/reality.

You fly back to National City. There’s one person who can help you with your time travel questions. One person who came from the future himself. You need to see Brainy. You wait outside the DEO, so you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone else.

You see aunt Alex leaving with Brainy later that night. They’re talking and laughing, and you just want to run to her and tell her everything. You feel your heart squeezing in your chest, and there’s a tennis-size ball stuck in your throat. What the hell have you done? Why would you do something so stupid like trusting an imp, when everything was completely fine?

They finally part ways, you wipe your tears and breathe deeply before running towards Brainy.

“Brainy! Wait.” He turns around and looks at you confused. He, too, never saw you before. He might not have a lot of face expressions, but you can see that.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” He says monotone.

“We haven’t yet. Or, maybe we have, and now we don’t anymore. It’s confusing.”

“I see.”

“I’m Kara’s daughter.” You smile and he tilts his head at you. “And Lena’s. Obviously.”

“There’s one percent chance that this information is correct.” He says, making you sigh.

“Brainy, please, just hear me out, ok? If after everything I say you still don’t believe me, I’ll leave you alone.” You ask and he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. You can see he has already agreed to it. You look around to make sure no one can see you. “First, you need to see something.” You fly a little off ground, just enough he’ll know you have superpowers, but not enough that people would turn their heads to look at you. When you land back, he has a different expression. You blow out so he can see your freeze breath.

“You’re Kryptonian.” He states, not looking shocked.

“Half Kryptonian. I also have Lena’s DNA.” You breathe heavily. “Ever heard of an imp from the fifth dimension called Mxytopolis?”

“You mean Mxyzptlk?” He corrects you and you shake your head agreeing.

“He said he would show me the future. And I am two years in the future, but no one here seems to remember me.”

“Interesting. Your story seems to be making sense. Although, people usually know they should never trust an imp.”

“Yeah, I know that now.” You scoff, but you’re really just mad at yourself for being so dumb. “Do you think I’m still in my reality? Was I erased from my timeline?”

“Unlikely.” He turns on his heels and walks from one side to the other with his hands clasped behind his back. “He could’ve, however, erased everyone’s mind, but I would say this scenario has a 45% chance of being true.”

“Ok. So maybe I’m in a different reality?” He looks at you, turns on his heels again and paces around himself for a while.

“73% chance.”

“Is there one scenario where we’re closer to 100%?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“You might be stuck in the fifth dimension. And this is an alternative reality playing only in your mind. Like a…”

“Dream.” You sigh. “Or a nightmare.”

“But the percentage is still only 86%.” He turns to you abruptly. “Were there any further agreements?”

“He said I had to stay here for two days, and then he would come and pick me up.”

“What would you do for him?” He asks and you shake your head as if you mean to say nothing. “Interesting. He didn’t ask for something in return.” He thinks for a while and you don’t say anything to disturb him. “Have you made any contact with any family members?” You nod. “Do they know who you really are?” You deny. “Great. Let’s leave it at that. Until we figure out what scenario is the real one, we better not do anything that might jeopardize that.” You agree again. “Meet me here tomorrow morning. I need some time to calculate further probabilities.”

“Ok. Thanks, Brainy.” You smile at him and he nods one time.

“Of course there’s still 58% chance you’re lying. So, I have to consider that into the calculation. Goodnight!” Brainy leaves and you look around, unsure on what to do next.

No one knows you, you don’t have any money, you have nowhere to go and you’re starving. You should’ve asked Brainy for some money, so you could eat.

You’re not really thinking about what you’re doing next. But you find yourself flying to L Corp and sitting on the rooftop listening to your mom’s heartbeat and her boring meetings. Hearing her voice calms you down. When you think about flying to CatCo and listening to your momma’s boring meetings, Lena decides to go home. So, you follow her.

She doesn’t go to your house. She goes to a very fancy building. You look through the window when she arrives at the penthouse. It’s all so pretty and fancy inside, but there’s something off. It doesn’t feel very homey. Kara arrives a few minutes later, and you hide better so she can’t see you.

You stay there watching them, and feeling empty inside. They’re fine. Honestly, just look at them, talking about their days, laughing, living their lives. Sure, they don’t know you exist, but you at least expected they would be a little less happy given you’re not in their lives.

Is this what Mxyptelk wanted all along? Did he want to show you that people’s life would go on without you, no problem at all? And that some of them, like Jamie, would actually have a better life?

You’re confused, scared, and you can’t help but feel like that asshole is going to double cross you one more time and leave you stranded wherever this is forever.

They go to bed, and you stay there. You sit on their balcony, hold yourself and try not to think about how hungry and sad you are. You listen to Lena’s heartbeat. She’s fine. They’re fine. You take a deep breath and rest your head on the wall next to you, and you fall asleep.

“Shhh… We’re being watched.” You hear Kara’s voice and open your eyes. It’s morning. Shit, they’re up. She knows you’re here. “There’s someone on the balcony. Stay here, love.”

You fly away when you hear that, but you’re not fast enough. Actually, Kara is faster. She grabs your leg before you go too far and you stop.

“Wait. I know you. You’re the girl from the park yesterday. The girl that looks like me when I was young.” She says looking shocked. “What were you doing on my balcony?”

“I’m sorry. I-I just…” You don’t know what to say. What can you say? Should you tell her the truth even though Brainy told you not to do anything that could compromise your future/reality/dream state?

“You have superpowers?” She finally realizes you are both flying right now.

You shake your head agreeing.

“And the watch. You said it’s a family heirloom?”

You nod one more time. Kara doesn’t speak for a whole minute.

“You have superpowers. You look just like me. You called me mom. And the watch…” She seems to be thinking out loud so you don’t say anything. “Are you? No, that’s not possible. You can’t possibly be…”

You nod again. Your stomach growls and Kara notices, looking at it.

“You’re hungry. When was the last time you ate, kid?” She asks and you shrug, still not using your words. “Come on, we need to talk, and you need to eat.”

She holds your hand, probably scared that you are going to fly away when she still has so many questions to ask you. You look at her expression while you fly back to the penthouse. She is so confused, it’s kind of cute. You both land at the balcony and go inside the penthouse. Lena is in the kitchen making some eggs.

“Did you find out who was watching us?” She asks without looking behind her.

“Yes, well, she is here.” Kara says and Lena looks back at you.

“But she’s just a kid. Wait.” Lena squints her eyes looking at you. “Wait a minute, I know you!” She leaves everything behind and comes closer. “You’re the girl who came by my office yesterday. Lexa! Right? You wanted to know about-”

Before she’s finished, you see the eggs she was making are on fire and you use your superspeed to go to the oven, and put out the fire with your freeze breath.

“What the fuck?” Lena asks when she realizes what you just did.

“Language!” You and Kara say unison and she only furrows her brows harder at that.

“Kid, why don’t you explain what’s going on here so we don’t make any wrong assumptions?” Kara asks and you walk back to them.

“I would love to. But I can’t.” You try to smile. Kara puts her hand on your shoulder and all you want to do is hug her tightly and tell her the whole truth.

“You can trust us. Whatever it is, we will believe you.” Kara says and your stomach growls again, this time so loud even Lena looks at you worried. Kara gives you a smile. “Come, let’s put some food into you.”

Kara grabs a cereal box and milk. She puts them on the counter so you can eat. You serve yourself, refilling the bowl three times until you’re finished with the whole box. You stare at Kara trying to tell her you’re still hungry. She seems to understand and doesn’t say anything while she takes another pan and fries some eggs for you. They’re still hot and you’re already inhaling them full speed.

“She can’t possibly eat that much.” Lena says furrowing her eyebrows at you, and you stop immediately.

“Sorry. I-I was a little hungry.” You get up from the stool. “Thanks for the food. I should get going.”

“Wait kid.” Kara holds your hand before you can leave. “If you tell me the truth, I’ll believe you.” She pleads with a gentle smile. “I will.”

“I-I shouldn’t.” You swallow hard so she won’t see your tears. “I have to go before I ruin something.”

“Ok.” Kara runs to the kitchen and comes back to you. “Take this, in case you’re hungry again.” She hands you some protein bars and you accept them, putting in your pocket. “If you need anything else…”

“I’ll call you, Supergirl.” You wink at her before flying away to your meeting with Brainy.

[dreaming-of-brawlstars]

Credits: to @brawlships for the name Cameron!

Ring a Belle?

Desc:

“To: Belle Starr, a loved one has taken up an incredible job offer at Starr Corp. Please accept this as compensation, and do not contact us, or them.”

Belle had read this message twice. A note with a check for a fair amount of money. She didn’t question it the first time, knowing Byron wasn’t one to talk.

However, the second time, she’s decided to confront this ‘Starr Corp’. There was no way this was a coincidence.

Warnings:

Byron and Belle argue and it gets intense, fridge horror. At the end, there’s some suffocation. Unhappy open ending.

Belle bit her tongue, looking up at the chain link fence. Just on the other side was Starr Park, a theme park filled with rides and wonder and whatever bullcrap came with that shtick. But Belle was sure there was something more beyond the fence and their claims.

She looked at the check she held in her hand, grimacing. She looked at the logo on it, comparing it, and her eyes drifted to the handwritten note on the envelope it was tucked in.

“Everything is fine. Love, Cameron.” She scoffed as she read it aloud. “You lie about as well as your old man. Don’t lie to your Ma.”

Her eyes darted to the chain link fence again, and she huffed, stashing the envelope into her pants pocket. With one arm, she picked up a pair of garden clippers she took along with her, caught one handle in her elbow, and grabbing the other with her hand. She tested it slightly, making sure she could use the clippers comfortably enough, then put the clippers to the fence.

She grinned when she heard it clip through the metal, it always sounded satisfying to her, but she had a job to do. Moving the clippers to a link slightly to the right, she used her body for more leverage to clip it open. After a few more times, she started clipping downwards.

She didn’t notice sweat starting to bead on her forehead, and when she went to wipe it off, she dipped the clippers. She cursed to herself, and cursed her one arm.

“Goddamit.” She pinched the bridge of her nose before looking at her progress, seeing that she could push herself through the gap she made if she just bent the fence slightly. “Good enough.” She mumbled under her breath, pushing her weight forward, getting through the hole. She grit her teeth as she felt the cut metal scratch her cheek and clothing, but she kept going.

She paused, slightly struggling to pry the chain link more open, and reached her arm to grab the fence and pull herself through. She heard clothing rip and the metal cut her exposed skin, but she was fine. She fell through with a thud, and she pushed herself up with a knee.

She had broken in.

A quick glance around showed no one else nearby. Not that she minded; no one else had seen her go in anyway. She wasn’t sure what she had expected - she hadn’t gone too far into the park yet - but the atmosphere felt… off. She shook her head.

She sniffed the air, smelling something off. It wasn’t strong, but it reminded her of air freshener from how it smelled. Vaguely musty, absorbed into something which made it radiate the scent. It seemed absolutely everywhere.

“Focus, Belle.” She grumbled to herself, now reaching for her belt, where she kept a flashlight. “Remember what you’re here for.”

She shook it before turning it on, and held it with her shoulder and head. She pulled out a map she managed to get of the place, looking down at it, and seeing the plan she drew on it earlier. Her eyes skimmed over the notes.

She was to the right of the main entrance, up ahead near the center, she could feasibly have access to all the districts in the park. It wasn’t the best plan, but she didn’t want to waste time trying to get any more in-depth maps. She did call Byron a couple of times for one since he worked here… he didn’t answer. Prick.

He never picked up anyway. She wasn’t sure why she thought her calling him more would change that.

“Thanks a whole fuckin’ lot,” She muttered, walking slowly down the path towards the center of the park. “I’m going to kick your ass.”

She walked ahead, holding the light she brought more securely against her neck, and it flickered as she moved through. As she got closer, she noticed how quiet it was. There were no rides and games, no people. The only sounds coming from the wind blowing through the trees.

She noticed speakers around, but they weren’t playing anything. She wasn’t sure if she’d be more comfortable if they were, though, maybe it was for the best. Maybe it’d make it easier to hear someone approaching. Or maybe it would make it easier for her to be heard. Either way, Belle wasn’t about to take chances.

As she neared the central area of the park, she started hearing something. She stopped, cocking an eyebrow as she listened harder. What it was was hard to tell at first, so she slowed down, taking a couple steps back, and tilted her head, listening intently. It sounded like water running somewhere behind her, she assumed. A waterfall.

Water. She didn’t think this place had a water attraction. Thinking about it now, she would’ve assumed the opposite: there was the faint smell of something burnt in the air. It was old and distant, but as she look a closer glance at things, she noticed light soot and ash everywhere.

He tucked the map into her pocket, and grabbed the flashlight, going to a wall of a building. She scratched it lightly, noticing the ash didn’t leave that easily. It must’ve sat there for some time and settled in, for a while, months, maybe. Something in the back of her mind nagged at her, telling her that this was wrong.

“Ain’t this some health hazard?” She whispered, sniffing it and smelling something musty and burnt, then she shook her head. “I’d hate to be a janitor here.”

She stood up, turning back to the sidewalk and shaking the flashlight again to power it. Then she noticed another source of light, and looking ahead, she noticed a shoppe with its lights on. After a few moments of squinting, she instantly recognized it as Byron’s shop.

She sighed in relief, and started to approach it casually. Getting closer, she could hear a voice talking, which she could easily tell as her brother. She couldn’t quite hear another voice, so she assumed he was on the phone. She tested the door to see if it was locked.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it already!” Byron said sharply after a moment. Belle raised an eyebrow and listened. He groaned loudly and slammed the phone into its receiver. His gaze immediately shifted to Belle at the sound of the door opening with a small jingle.

She froze for a moment at opening the door. Her face scrunched up at various scents, some potent. She coughed, squinting and seeing several bottles and vials on shelves. Presumably for sale. She saw Byron, who stared wide-eyed at her, holding the phone. An angry voice rambled from it.

For a second she thought about saying something or doing something that might be rude, but instead she let herself in, putting up an annoyed grin. Byron remained frozen, then the phone rang again. He quickly picked it up, eyes still fixated on Belle.

“The reptiles are growing restless, I apologize.” He quickly hung up before placing the phone in the receiver, his eye twitched. “Belle-!”

“You seemed to answer that awfully fast.” Her glare narrowed, and approached, placing her flashlight on the counter, “And I’m no reptile.”

“I know, I know,” Byron waved his hand as if to get her to stop, “What are you doing here?”

“Broke in.” As soon as she saw Byron begin to ask why, she took out the envelope and tossed it on the desk Byron leaned on, “What the hell is this?”

Byron looked at the envelope, not picking it up. Belle noticed his face pale slightly as he read the note on it.

“That’s none of your business. Leave.” He snapped, sounding tired.

“It does matter, Byron.” Her voice turned stern, and she rose, staring him down. “I know it ain’t a coincidence that you work here an’ my kid vanishes after some stunt, and I get some check tellin’ me to fuck off.”

“Well,” Byron said calmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, but clearly still stressed, “What if he’s fine? Like the note says?”

“Then I wouldn’t need to be breaking into your fucking store! Why am I breaking in, Byron?!” She yelled in exasperation. “I was fine with you doin’ that, I know you, y’don’t like to talk much. I also know my kid, and he wouldn’t up and vanish like you.”

“You don’t even call me-“ Byron was about to scoff, then Belle slammed her fist on the desk, knocking over some bottles.

“I’ve called you every hour, every day, this goddamn week!” She raised her voice, hearing it crack, “Every single goddamned day!” She continued, raising her voice higher with each word, “In the beginning, I called you once a week, then once a month, once a year, and you never, ever picked up!”

Byron stared wide-eyed at her outburst, and blinked, looking at the phone he had. He looked like he just realized something as his breath stopped. His jaw tightened, his eyes widening. He looked at her and she glared.

“Don’t act dumb, Byron! I swear if you don’t answer in the next minute, I will break this goddamn phone,” Belle growled. “Now answer the damn question. What happened to Cameron!?”

Byron flinched, attempting to make sense of everything. He stammered, holding his hands up.

“Belle, could you call my phone? I think-“

“I don’t have my phone!” She snapped, “I didn’t bring it in case it pings off of any cellphone towers. You think I want to be caught?”

“Cellphone towers, cell-“ Byron began to to look for something, checking the phone anxiously.

“Answer me!” Belle yelled, making Byron jump. She clenched her fist angrily.

“Alright, alright!” Byron held up his hands defensively. “I won’t answer the question, alright? Can we please talk about this later?” He asked pleadingly. “We can go somewhere else, okay?”

Belle glared, her hand shaking in rage. Wordlessly, she picked up her flashlight and slammed it against the phone on the desk, causing it to crack loudly. Byron winced, but it only made Belle angry more as her breathing quickened.

“You should’a told me when you had the chance.” She shook her head, stepping closer to him, “Why the fuck would you keep somethin’ like this from me?! Where’s my kid!?”

“Belle, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Byron tried to keep his voice steady, biting back fear. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

“Trouble’s an old friend o’ mine.” She said dryly, “I’m not ‘fraid o’ arrangin’ a meetin’.”

“Belle, please,” Byron breathed heavily, rubbing his eyes roughly. He was obviously exhausted, but he kept himself together. “Just go home now.”

His words were firm yet soft, pleading with her. His expression changed. The fear he showed a moment ago was gone, replaced by desperation. Belle felt anger and hurt flare up within her. She grit her teeth for a moment, wresting with her emotions.

“The hell you’d gotten yourself into, huh?” She asked coldly, stepping forward menacingly and grabbing his shirt in one hand, lifting him up. “If you ain’t gonna tell me where my kid is, I’ll find out myself.”

“Belle, please!” Byron shouted, struggling.

“I will find out.” She stated harshly, “If you want to avoid trouble, you’ll tell me where my son is. If not, well…” She lifted him up another inch, her face inches away from his. “You’re gonna have a pretty bad time.”

“Belle, please,” Byron begged, tears forming in his eyes. “Please, just go home.”

“No.” Belle said firmly, dropping him. He fell to the ground, landing hard on his knees. She stepped back, glaring at him, and sitting on his desk. “I ain’t goin’ home.”

“Belle, please, I beg of you.” Byron pleaded quietly.

“I’m stayin’.” Belle replied bluntly.

“No, you can’t. Please.”

“Yes, I can.” Belle replied simply. “You don’t like it, kick me out yourself.” She dared, smiling angrily.

He stood shakily, moving around the desk to the other side. She stayed there, watching as he moved. He paused and glanced over his shoulder at her, his face paling significantly.

“You’re going to get caught-“

“I. Don’t. CARE.” Belle cut him off, closing her eyes briefly.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into!” Byron insisted, pointing a finger at her, “Get yourself out of here before it’s too late.”

“Is it too late for you?” She mused, then she noticed that Byron didn’t look… annoyed. Still serious. His words started to sink in. “Byron?”

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair again, “Fine. But I expect you to take this seriously. This is serious. It affects both of our lives. And Colt’s.”

“Cameron.” Belle corrected before sitting up, “Now, enlighten me.” She crossed her legs.

Byron nodded, facing her. His shoulders slumped in defeat, but his gaze never faltered from hers. Belle watched him with curiosity. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s a long story…” He trailed off, “It’s a confusing one too.”

She leaned back, gesturing him to continue, waiting impatiently for him to speak. Byron sat for a moment, considering, before looking back up at Belle. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“So, uh… They hired me a while back because of my passion for chemistry, as you know.” Belle nodded, and Byron continued, “I’ve made a variety of mixes, they have a variety of effects, I do everything from the basics to the big things, all that stuff. So, they got me to work a couple projects, testing chemicals for them, mixing them.” He explained, looking down, sighing deeply.

He took a moment to choose his next words, shying away from Belle’s glare.

“Of course, you have to test that sort of thing. So I got to making contracts.” He looked back up at Belle. “First they were simple disclaimers, but people didn’t want to sign, so I had to get creative. Learned how to play with words.”

“You were always good with that.” Belle muttered, rolling her eyes. “Go on.”

“Well, eventually I got some investors interested, which meant I had more money than I thought possible, so I got a bigger budget. Which meant more resources and equipment needed, as well as more people involved.” He explained quickly. “Starr Corp gave me everything, and in turn I gave them my talents.”

“Everything sounds great for you.” Belle commented sarcastically. “So, when’s the other show going to drop?”

“I believe it already did.” Byron looked at the broken phone on the desk. “When did you try to call me?”

“Pardon?” She blinked, “Ever since you first got the job. Once a week at first. An’ a lot more this week.”

Byron was silent, nodding slightly as he huffed.

“That’s it. That’s the other shoe. Cutting off my contact with you.” He looked around the shop, nervous, “That makes me wonder what else they did without me noticing.”

Suddenly, the world felt a lot less free.

“…that ain’t alarming.” Belle muttered sarcastically, also following his gaze to the broken phone. “Byron?”

“…this is all my fault. If I didn’t accept the job here, if I’d just didn’t agree to write their contracts or make those-“ He put his head in his hands, “…I helped them so much, and in turn they’ve let me continue by work. But recently I haven’t been getting orders or requests.” He looked up, terrified. “I don’t know how much freedom I have left here.”

“Then leave.” Byron looked at Belle incredulously. “Before it’s too late… or did you get yourself in some hot water?”

Byron seemed fixated on a bottle on his desk, knocked over on it’s side, but since it was plugged with a cork, nothing spilled out. Nonetheless, he seemed scared of it. Like he dreaded it. Like he knew something horrific was in it.

“…get out. Now.” It wasn’t above a whisper, but the words sounded like death itself, sending shivers down Belle’s spine. She couldn’t bring herself to move. Instead, she simply looked at Byron, silently, and watched the color drain from his face.

Silence settled over the room once again, heavy and tense. Byron seemed frozen in place, then he moved, grabbing Belle by the arm.

“Hey!” She pulled back, “It’s my job to manhandle you!”

“Belle, you have to get out of here, NOW.” He repeated, pulling her toward the door.

Belle struggled against him, fighting his hold, “What’s the matter with you?” She asked, pushing against him, “Are you outta your mind?”

“No! But you are, you’re being reckless. You’re being targeted!” He swung open the door, attention to shove Belle out. “You said it yourself, it’s not a coincidence!”

“I ain’t leaving!” She protested, trying to push him aside, “I said I ain’t leaving until you tell me!”

“You need to leave!”

“Not without you! You promised me we’d talk about everything, and I’m not leavin’ until we have!”

“Get OUT!!” Byron attempted to jab her waist to catch her off guard, but instead she picked him up by the collar of his jacket. “Belle! Go! Save yourself!”

“I came here for answers! And all I got are more questions and figurin’ out that the two people I have a damn about are in danger!”

“You’re in danger!” Byron retorted, throwing his arms into the air in exasperation, “And you won’t even listen!”

“You’re right! I won’t! Because you’ve been avoiding the question this whole time!!” Belle exclaimed, her voice rising dramatically, “Where’s my kid? The hell have you gotten yourself into!?”

A pause. A tense silence filled their shop, thick as tar. Their breath hitched in unison. Silence, yet another deafening silence between the two people in front of each other, neither willing to break it for fear that they were done arguing, they were done speaking, but their argument still raged on in their minds.

“Trust me.” Byron rasped. “Please, trust me for one last time: go home and hide.”

“Tell me what happened.” Belle demanded quietly, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “I want to know…” She paused, struggling to find the strength to speak, “I want to hear what the fuck’s going on here. From you.”

“I can’t-“

“Tell me.”

“I can’t. I just can’t right now. Please.” He replied quietly.

A tear rolled down Belle’s cheek, dripping onto the floor below. Suddenly, she hugged Byron, holding him tight with her one arm. After a few seconds he returned the hug, his hands finding her back, gripping it tightly, as if afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

After a minute or so they pulled apart, Byron reaching out for her arm, but hesitated after a second, his expression conflicted. Belle seemed conflicted too.

“Please, go.”

“I ain’t leavin’ without my family. Or answers.” Belle noticed Byron’s hesitation. “If you don’t give me those… I guess I’ll just have to figure it out myself.” She stated, her tone firm but calm. “Just… tell me. If nothing else.”

“…Colt’s alive.” Byron answered quietly. “If he’s like anyone else here, he’s fine. In a way.”

“But I haven’t seen anyone here.” Belle paused as Byron wordlessly pointed to an area, and when she turned, she barely recognized it as the Wild West area she saw on the map. “…is he there?”

“If not, it’s the golf ball shaped building.” Byron clarified, gesturing vaguely to what Belle assumed must be the building, but wasn’t sure.

“The ‘ball shaped building’?”

Byron smiled a little bit at her confusion. “Headquarters, in a way. ‘Where dreams are made’, they say.” He seemed to chuckle remorsefully at that. “Dreams.”

“…why are you suddenly an open book now?” Belle suspiciously eyed him, her tone sounding annoyed. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Because of what’s coming.” Byron sighed sadly. “I have a lot of reasons to believe that we’re not getting out of here, in fact, I think they were finished with me and they were…” He paused. “Everything is stacked against us, it’s rigged, so, might as well try to give them hell.”

“That’s a quitter’s attitude,” Belle ruffled his hair, snapping Byron out of his saddened mood, She grinned, “Y’said it yerself, you helped them. They asked you fer whatever you’ve got, so why not give it your all?”

Byron didn’t quite smile, but there was a glint in his eyes. He took Belle’s hand in his own. “…Thank you. For listening.”

“You’re welcome.” Belle gave his hands a gentle squeeze before stepping away from him, turning around. “Now, c’mon. Let’s see where they’ve got Cameron.”

Byron grabbed her sleeve, and Belle glanced back. He didn’t look angry anymore, he seemed pensive. Stressed. However, he blinked himself out of it and focused on the empty sleeve.

“…I hope you know I was waiting for you to call me, I made a gift for you. Two, actually. With Pam, if you remember her.” He smiled weakly. “That was a few years ago, but I think it should fit. And the other… well, I think you’d really like it now.”

“What’re you on about now?” Belle snorted, but she notice Byron genuinely, happily, smile at her for the first time, “You seem awful proud of it already, it better be awesome.”

“Oh, it is. Very much so.” Byron’s smile broadened. “Stay here, I’ll be right back. It should be in the back. And I should probably get something for finding Colt.”

“Col-ton.” Belle corrected, rolling her eyes. She laughed slightly as Byron mocked her, rolling his eyes before turning around to the shop and disappearing into the back.

Even though things seemed to lighten up, she felt a deep pit of dread in her gut. She had a feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Belle glanced around the park, noticing that she was the only one out. And looking around, she noticed her footprints from earlier from the ash on the ground. Along the sidewalk, to Byron’s shoppe. Just hers - save for Byron’s from his stepping out.

“…Byron? Where’s everyone else that’s supposed to be here? Aren’t there guests?” She called out, hearing her voice slightly echo in the empty area. “I get that it’s nighttime, but ain’t this ash old? Even if people are sleeping, shouldn’t they be walkin’ ‘round at daytime?”

No response, and she felt a lump in her throat. She felt anxiety welling up, and she bit her lip as she thought back on what Byron said. He said he didn’t notice when the other shoe dropped.

She had a feeling that she didn’t either. But she couldn’t let herself think of that. She couldn’t think of anything that could be the reason behind it. Nothing made sense to her.

“Byron?” She called out again, but again there was no answer.

Her eyes wandered around in search for something, anything she could use. Something she could hold onto, to keep her mind off of the possibilities her brain conjured up with every step she took. There weren’t many choices available at all, so she looked down at the ash.

…it was sticky. Ash wasn’t sticky - it clung - but it wasn’t sticky from what she experienced. She knelt down, scratching it off the ground and sniffing it. She reeled her head back, nearly gagging at the potent scent. She wheezed, shaking her hand as she coughed.

‘Well, there’s the smell from before.’ She thought, rubbing it off on her pants. ‘The hell is that?’

Her first thought went to something to clean up the ash, but it didn’t make sense. It didn’t smell like any cleaning detergent or solution she knew. And it was sticky, which seemed to be the opposite of a cleaning solution. Whatever it was, it was everywhere.

Was it pesticide? No, that didn’t make sense. Why would there pesticide sprayed everywhere even without any plants? It didn’t smell good, so it couldn’t be a perfume either. Her mind drifted to what Byron said - he made things for Starr Prk. Chemicals. And this reeked of chemicals. A chemical compound perhaps. A chemical weapon?

‘Or something like that.’ She thought as she rubbed the residue off her clothes again.

As she wiped it off the rest of her pants, her mind raced. Maybe she was on edge about this place, maybe it was a setup to trap them. Maybe she hadn’t been told everything. Well, she knew Byron didn’t tell her everything.

For some reason the smell was stronger, which didn’t make sense. She wasn’t closer to the ground. For some reason, her eyes stung and her lungs burned. For some reason, her vision started to blur as she stood up. For some reason, her knees buckled beneath her and collapsed in the sidewalk. For some reason… her head hurt.

Did she breathe in something?

She forced herself up, pushing herself up on a knee. She staggered to the door, slamming her fist against it before grabbing the knob, falling onto the floor as it swung open under her weight, with the bell jingling. She scrambled for it, pulling herself up by the handle, stumbling inside. The lights, however dim, flickered on as soon as she walked in and she stumbled further into the store, coughing.

She didn’t even know that she was calling out for Byron, the pain from screaming was covered from the burning in her throat. She could barely even hear herself over the ringing in her ears. She slammed the door behind her, screaming again. It echoed loudly in the otherwise silent building.

Her legs gave out underneath her, causing the collapse unceremoniously into a heap. She curled up, hugging herself tightly with her back against the door and groaned.

She was dizzy. Her vision blurred. She could hardly breathe and the pain in her chest was growing unbearable. She could feel a migraine beginning, and she groaned softly. Sounds felt underwater. She groaned loudly, trying to focus on something. Anything, just… something.

Footsteps. Then another footstep. Someone was walking towards her. She reached her arm out, attempting pull herself towards the footsteps. She cleared her throat, trying to speak as loud as manage.

“Byron!” The footsteps paused, and she heard a concerned muffled question. A familiar voice. That voice… “Help…”

She felt a prick in her arm, and heard talking as her shoulder was shook. She tried to lift her eyelids again but struggled, feeling a pressure in her chest. More pressure, and the world began to swirl and darken. The voice grew more concerned.

“Belle,” This time her head snapped up. “Are you alright? Can you speak? Say something.”

Belle managed to raise her heavy lids slowly, blinking several times before trying to clear her vision, trying to see through the growing dark spots. She noticed Byron kneeling down in front of her, looking scared. She felt too tired to think about it, her head was swimming.

“Belle,” The voice seemed to clear up, but it still sounded distant. “Can you hear me? Belle?”

“Byron,” She rasped, and he looked relieved, but still worried, “Byron, I was callin’ you.”

Byron almost spoke, but was interrupted by jingling of the door swinging open. As the bell rang, Byron turned his head quickly toward the entrance. Belle closed her eyes, letting her head drop.

She had a feeling that it was too late.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

A Climb Chapter Three

Masterlist

This time Clark isn't going to let you get off with a warning hell bent on giving you a punishment you wont forget... but with you bent over just he couldn't help himself.

Warnings: Adult situations 18+, Spanking, Smut, Daddy kink, Size kink, dirty talk, humiliation

A/n: so been working on this for a while, got a few more things I’m writing atm which should hopefully be finished soon, i do hope you enjoy xx... P.S Its another long boi...sorry xx

dividers by @writeyourmindaway​

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @magdelen69​ @iloveyouyen​

A Climb Chapter Three

Clark watched as you made your way across the office coffee in each hand and a paper tucked under your arm. You smiled placing his coffee beside him. It was one week since the whole superman discipline fiasco and you and Clark was officially a couple. He smiled sweetly thanking you then peered uneasy into the cup hoping it wasn't another ginger spice crappy frappie thing.

"What is it today then?" Looking at the frothy milk already pulling a face at it you laughed at his expression then leant on his desk.

"Coconut latte, honestly Clark you haven't even tried it yet, broaden your horizons live a little, you can't just stick to the same boring black coffee every single day... Go on try it its sweet just like you, I promise you'll like it." He scrunched his nose, coconut? In milk and coffee? He looked at you as you sipped your own drink.

"I happen to like black coffee... But you did buy it so I might as well try it...I'd hate for you to waste your money" he said taking a hesitant sip as Lois came over eyeing you both curiously, you mouthed coconut to her and she shook her head.

"You trying to get him on fancy coffee? Not sure if that will work but I admire your efforts" you both watched as Clark hummed and nodded before taking a second sip. You smiled laughing as he refused to put the cup down taking slow drags from it now and then.

"See I told you~" you said in a sing song voice. Then placed the paper down beside you on the desk.

"Soo whats on the agenda for today then girls and boys?" Lois shook her head at your antics, having you around the office was effectively having a child in the building. A fully grown 5ft fuck all fearless, sneaky child, which is exactly why she needed you ,you were to all intents and purposes a fucking ninja...Or at least you should have been.

"Well y/n I was hoping I could steal you from Clark for a while?" You tilted your head at her

"Define a while?"

"Day or two? I need someone who will keep up with me." You mulled it over taking another sip ,that normally meant she was either doing something she shouldn't and needs a photographer she could trust or needed you to do some behind the scenes acrobatic snooping. You ignored the way Clark's eyes wandered over the two of you carefully.

"What's the story?" Her face lit up as you asked

"Got a lead on that chemical leak down by the Lex corp labs, its causing symptoms similar to the victims of nuclear radiation, immunity failure, it hasn't killed anyone...Yet anyway, but there are fourteen people hospitalized and they are trying to white wash it as some industrial strength cleaning solution accident." You tilted your head at her nodding slowly sounds like a major cock up on the lab's part.

"Yep fine, you want me to get my stuff now or-" you was interrupted by Clark placing a hand on your thigh squeezing the strength shocked you as he pinned you to the desk you were seated on.

"No" both you and Lois looked at him and started speaking first

"What? Clark its fine she will be with me" she said you continued

"Yeah it will be okay I'm not even leaving the city this time" he stood still holding your thigh under his heavy palm squeezing it tightly making you wince a little then released it, he moved standing close shielding you from Lois slightly puffing out his chest looking down at you making you gulp a little as your clit tingled at his imposing stance you wet your lips a little. He tilted his head looking sternly at you.

"I said no,Love your not going running in to god knows what. We don't even know what that stuff is?" He added waving his hand around .You grit your teeth and pushed him back a little you and stood at your full height jabbing him in the chest, then shook out your finger as it had hurt.

"Well that's the point of going isn't it you know investigating what it is? Look I know your worried but if they are doing some freaky chemical testing shit then its dangerous! Besides I'm just going to take photos of the facility. Nothing will happen we will be extra careful wont we Lois?"

"Of course we will just photos and statements that's all promise" she backed you up he looked between the two of you and sighed.

"Lois no that place is to dangerous, the things they have there-" he caught himself but Lois didn't click ...Or really listen to him, it was a story. Her story you hesitated.  At his statement sparing Lois a glance.

"Clark people have a right to know if Lex corp are doing Illegal testing!" he grunted ignoring her turning to you pointing at you

"I said no...And I mean it, I'm not playing around you know what will happen if you ignore me, he is still on your tail I will find out" you took a step back at his severe look and reluctantly nodded he was serious, you pivoted to Lois giving a apologetic look.

"Lois ...It does sound a bit iffy...Lets look for another story from Perry" you winked at her discreetly nodding to the elevators she huffed turning in a strop making her way across the office, you sighed as Clark sat down at his desk rolling his eyes.

"Great now shes in a mood"he sighed

"She'll get over it....Thank you for dropping it, I love you" you froze insides twisting with guilt already as he pulled you down to his face giving you a kiss you smiled at him sweetly before looking away towards Lois and grimanced watching her stalk towards the elevators all but crushing the buttons

"I'll go talk to her" he hummed in agreement

"Okay be safe love" looking back to his screen and beginning to type his own article as you made your way to her sneakily still having your bag over your shoulder and quickly made it to the elevator slipping in beside Lois.

Once outside you sighed walking along side Lois she looked up at you smirking, you both high fived.

"Soo you and Clark huh? Never got the full story on how that finally happen?"You blushed not sure what to say not like you could say superman spanked you like a child for climbing buildings then delivered you to Clark for another scolding.

"We err yeah we argued over something silly and he sort of screamed he loved me, not exactly romantic but that was it" she smiled nodding.

"Doesn't surprise me in the slightest, he has had his eye on your for a while, been telling him for months to ask you out he was to shy." You laughed yes that sounded like him. You did feel a little uncomfortable after all Lois was his ex. She gave you a side glance

"What did he mean back then in the office?" You flushed chuckling

"Oh that who knows with him I mean come on this is Clark hes a bit backwards isn't he?" She couldn't argue there then it got quiet noticing your mood change and sighed she wasn't going to let this cause a rift between you both, she'd been working with you for nearly six years you were friends.

"I don't mind you know, it didn't work out between Clark and I, I wish it had but it just didn't, honestly I knew he liked you after he started working with you,  when we was still together, I could feel it, that's why I ended it... I wasn't the one he truly wanted, I was just the first he opened up to sometimes I think he just felt obligated to be with me but if you hurt him you'll have me on your case you got that?" You nodded smiling at her softly.

"Thank you, I was afraid that you wouldn't like me anymore that's why I've avoided you a bit." she laughed and pushed you a bit making you weave around a small group of businessmen  then come back to her side.

"Course not don't be stupid, by the way you do know were sneaking in don't you?" You grinned waving your slightly smaller camera

"Why do you think I've got this bad boy? and I brought my new go pro , got this new one better pixels and its more stable just have to change shoes when we get there trainers are in my bag. So what do you think it is? Some poison? Or nuclear type thing?" She hummed

"Always prepared huh? And I'm not certain but it could be a weapon? Apparently Lex corp has been trying to get government contracts for military imports and exports, I think it was a a chemical weapon test gone south."

"Military? Was they approved?" She shook her head stopping beside you

"No it was denied and its the fifth time this year they seem desperate and I think its because they already have weapons and are testing them but technically until they get the contracts what they have been doing is illegal. It could ruin the whole Luthor name, tear down their empire." you followed her to the cab she had waved down both jumping in the back she told the driver the destination.

It took just over half an hour to reach the labs, as always you had gotten out and walked the last few minutes. you used your cameras zoom using it as binoculars.

"Red, we got a problem. Security and they are packing some serious heat.... But look that's the one right? with the big tube tent thingy?" she huffed hands on hips thinking, you used the time to snap some photos capturing some shots of the armed security, you noticed they gave the sight of the incident a wide birth veering around it on every pass,you cursed as two stopped spotting you, you quickly shifted slightly.

"Pose pose!! quickly!!" she did as she was told holding her hands up and popping her hip out to the side and you snapped another photo you noticed the security shake heads walking away.

"That's it done" she dropped her hands it was a trick you had both developed use Instagram like poses for cover you nodded to the building.

"You go cause a fuss I will use the distraction to get in, if you get turned away go wait where we got out of the cab try to hold out for as long as you can okay? I will be as quick as I can if I'm not out in thirty minutes go home." she looked hesitant as you crouched finishing swapping your shoes for trainers tightening your laces double knotting them tucking the ends in.

"Leave? you want me to leave you there?"

"Yeah don't worry I will get out I always do but if things go south I don't want to worry about you to, no offense but your not as fast as me" you said taking a small  pouch from your bag clipping it to a belt loop on your trousers passing her your satchel tucking your camera in to your pouch then attaching the go pro to your head, it was smaller then your other one and this one saved your live stream to the cloud, so even if you lost dropped or broke it the film was intact.

"Okay if your sure.. Just please be careful I don't think Clark would ever forgive me if you got hurt" you nodded to her

"I'm not going to get hurt now go, wait until I'm at that fence at the bottom" she nodded watching you jog to the very far fence, you turned back looking at her nodding watching as she approached the security gate.

You turned the corner the finding a weak spot in the fence , it was a basic chain link one that you could easily roll up, your guess is they were trying to look unassuming. You didn't bother taking a photo you could pull stills from the go-pro footage. The security cameras moved in slow sweeping motion's across the open space you counted there was a thirty second interval that was clear as they moved, thirty seconds didn't seem much but you would be amazed what you could achieve in that time you planned your route, make it to the large truck parked half way across the concrete then a run jump and wall climb and you’d be on the first roof out of view of the cctv using the electricity box to spring off.

You took a deep breath then moved sliding under the chain link fence and rushed tucking below the truck, taking a deep breath as the adrenaline kicked in, peeking as the cameras rotated then made your move again sprinting and using the electricity box to propel yourself to the roof grunting as you held the edge quickly scrabbling your feet and rolling just in time. Taking a moment you calmed your breathing and got up crouching looking left and right seeing a durable looking gutter, it was close to the edge and you'd be in plain sight for the climb, but Lois was down there being Lois so you was certain no one would see you.

You had to trust she would keep them occupied, grabbing the gutters attachments you planted your feet either side cupping your hands behind the pipe, the trick was to keep a steady rhythm you made the climb breathing steady until you reached the top a little out of breath and stood, no one of ground level would see you from here, this roofs height was almost at three stories. Peering over the top you saw the guards watching as Lois made her way down the side of the fence going to the meeting spot.

You stood back slowly looking around there was a small hatch that looked like a maintenance shaft that would be your entry point then. Walking towards it you pried it open shimmying down inside there was a small ladder and a platform at the bottom attached to a cat walk around the room. You crouched on the platform looking over the huge space. One huge room that looked almost like a warehouse apart from plastic dividers cutting it into smaller cubicles each looked like mini science labs various apparatus and small machines in each then there was a wall with huge glass window inside two massive industrial sized vats at the other end with pipes feeding whatever it was holding into a few smaller canisters, people with full on hazmat suits and bubble masks entered and left via a decontamination chamber as other people walked around transporting the smaller canisters in glass boxes on trolleys taking out your camera you snapped shots of the room the zoom picked up more then your go-pro ever could.

You pointed the camera zooming on various items you did a slow walk round getting close ups of the activity in and around the place, most of the stuff looked.... Medical? For some reason, vials and syringes and drip feeders that type of stuff. Finally you found what you was looking for zooming in on a large board that has diagrams all across it depicting the vats and smaller containers, but couldn't make out any writing. Sighing you crouched speed walking down the cat walk finding a spot with a better view from here you could work out what it says....Theralizumab (tgn1412) what the fuck was that? A drug or something? For some reason it sounded familiar but you couldn't place it. You leaned closer taking more photos of the table beside it all showing different scientific calculations and symbols then quietly spelt the main name out loud for your go pro as a back up.

You froze and crouched lower as a gun wielding guard came in  Through a side door looking around talking on the phone as he made for the stairs across from you. Shit. You had to get out, deciding to call it quits you retraced your steps. Once you made it to the ladder you quickly climbed it making it to the roof safe and sound, you peaked over the to where the groups of guards had been but they were scattered about patrolling again you swore. Things are definitely turning south. You must have spent longer looking around than you thought. You took a deep breath before slipping down the gutter aiming to leave the way you came. As if things couldn't get worse the truck was gone. You would be spotted before you got out hearing a voice from above your stomach dropped quickly you dived against the wall.

"There’s no one here, yes I've looked , nothing on the cat walk or roof.... Jerry is just seeing things...... well he's been paranoid since the explosion.... yes well he should suck it up think himself lucky......pfft that's what he's saying he wasn't anywhere near it to be hit with this shit......no point, looking at what it did to those in England they will probably be dead in a few days, wouldn't surprise me if he let em to cover up........ I will check now yes alright be down in a minute." You held your breath as you heard the foot steps moving closer your heart was trying to jump out of your chest. He would see you. He would see you and shoot you and you'd die, because he would shoot you and you'd be dead. You panicked looking for somewhere to hide as he got closer to the edge.

"Fuck! Show me your hands!" He shouted you rolled away and made a break for it as he fumbled with his gun aiming it at you firing. He missed hitting the roof by your feet making the gravel spray up hitting your ankles making you hiss,your heart skipped a beat as you closed your eyes ducking and screaming diving in a zigzag towards the edge with every intention of throwing your self off it was only one story hopefully you’d make it. You flinched hearing him run down the length of the building you held your breath waiting to feel a spray of bullets  as you neared the edge. But there wasn't any. just a sudden gust of air a warmth at your back you flinched closing your eyes fearing the worst as someone grabbed your waist quickly tugging you towards them, then they seemed to jump your feet left the ground and you grabbed at the arm in shock opening your eyes the saw a flick of red before closing them again as you was lurched through the air at speed landing seconds later a few blocks away at ground level next to a sheepish looking Lois.

"Lois? Wha-" before you could finish you was spun around your wrist was held in a tight grip coming face to face with the man of steel and for the first time you was happy to see him, before you could think you hugged him shaking from fear and adrenaline he sighed tucking an arm around you patting your back as the shock of what happened washed over you in nauseating waves. A few tears escaped, you were shot at, you could have died.

"Fuck ,thank you, thank you so much , if you hadn’t- I'd be....I thought I was a goner" he sighed ruffling your hair holding you as you shook, no matter how angry he was he couldn't help take a few moments to help settle you down rubbing your back slowly as you sobbed quietly you were so frightened.

"Shh it's okay...I've got you...your okay" you cried into him missing the looks shared over your head between him and Lois. She looked guilty, and he was fucking pissed. Eventually you calmed down enough for him to get through to you and he pulled you back at arms length, you tried wriggling away wiping your eyes and sniffing back your last whimpers, he growled when you tried twisting away. Oh hell no.

He wasn't letting you get away from him not after that major fuck up moving his hand he gripped you by the scruff of your shirt. You flinched and snapped your gaze up. Oh shit. His face was set in a deep frown, jaw twitching. He was angry, furious. Double shit.

"What have I told you?! About doing stupid things like that?!" He shook you a bit by your shirt making you wince closing your eyes pretending he wasn't there.

"Don’t you pretend to ignore me!" He wasn’t playing ball and instead captured your chin in his other hand.

"Y/n what did I say?...Look at me when I'm talking to you....Right now or so help me god!....That’s better....Was last time not enough To deter you?" Your eyes bulged as you used your hands to cover your back end. Lois raised an eyebrow at your reaction going to ask but was silenced with a look from Clark, he wasn't happy with either of them. He trusted her! Trusted you to both do the right thing, the safe thing and leave this story alone, at that point he wasn't sure who he was more angry at. Lois for encouraging you, or you for actually going through with it!.

"No! I mean yes! I don't know!! it was work their doing something bad!! like really reeaallly bad! I'm sorry please don't!" He growled

"Sorry isn't good enough!!" you squeaked at him trying to twist from him but he juts locked a hand on one of your biceps makeing to spin you around.

"No! don't nononono! please not here pleaseplease, I get it I'll be good, I wont make a fuss just not infront of her please!" you begged and he clenched his jaw looking from you to Lois who was confused by your desperate display

"y/n wha?" she didn't get to finish as her question was answered as you was spun round to face her yelping and thrashing as he moved landed a harsh smack you your lower thigh making you cry out trying to tuck yourself away from him moving your free hand around trying to cover yourself flushing in humiliation as Lois' jaw dropped. You moved your hand across yourself trying to save your ass but he just worked around it with ease ,finally having enough he switched his grip capturing both wrists behind you as you tried spinning back round and dodging at the same time tears already falling from the harsh impacts of his hand all but branding your ass.

"No nonono stop! I'm sorry I'm sorry please

""You want me to drop your jeans? No? Well stop wriggling then!.... You are unbelievable!...Three times! This makes t hree times now I've had to Intervene! I thought your last spanking would have knocked some sense into you Young lady! But then again Clark let you get away with it last time didn't he?" You cried as this time he had put more force behind each swing leaving a much deeper burn then last time tears streamed down your face and you started sobbing as he carried on. He meant it.

"Im sorry ple-please stoooop" he continued letting you feel his displeasure at you landing heavier blows you could tell he wanted to strike you harder in the way his hand trembled with each impact, the rougher treatment and scolding made you soak your panties almost instantly, the humiliation of Lois watching may have had something to do with it as well.  You flushed in humiliation happy that you was in black jeans, had you been in anything else he and Lois would have seen your shame. You wriggled yelping between sobs as he bruised your back side adding five more in quick succession then stopped. It had felt like a life time but in reality was only a minute two at most. You hiccuped rubbing your eyes as he stood there still glareing at you before huffing.

"What am I going to do with you? Is this going to be a weekly occurrence now?" You sniffed trying to compose yourself shaking your head. No. He released your wrists but you didn't pull away wiping your nose on your sleeve feeling humiliated, belittled and most dreadfully of all aroused. You flushed a deep red hanging your head in shame, god knows what Lois must think watching you get man handled like that, watching you be reduced to tears in seconds.

"I don't need to tell you how stupid that was do I?" You whined and shook your head again at him, feeling his eyes boring into your head.

"And you can rest assured that the only reason I'm letting you off so lightly is because I'm letting your boyfriend deal with you this time! I'm very disappointed in you, I don't think he will be very happy I doubt he let you come out here, did he know?" you hung your head somehow Hearing him say he's disappointed in you almost felt as bad as his spanking and you didn't know why, you shivered at the thought of Clark finding out.

"Well?" He probed Lois gave him a look, you didn't know yet? but then by that display she hardly thought you spent a lot of time facing him, by the looks of it you spent your time across his knee.

"No, well maybe, he knew we wanted to but we said we wouldn't...." he sighed at you

"Well he will be finding out" you panicked shaking your head

"No! don’t tell him! I know I did wrong but he will be so angry!!" He ignored you fixing you both with a firm gaze.

"You will both drop the story, we are already on it and don't need people panicking over it, your leads dried up am I clear?" You heard Lois agree still stunned by what she had just witnessed he tugged your head up to face him seeing nothing but a blur through your tears.

"Y/n I said am I clear?" You nodded before answering weakly without thinking

"Yes sir" mortified as the words slipped out before you could catch them

"Good now off you go...Back to your office both of you" he said releasing you ,you quickly made your way past him hissing as your tender muscles pulled, they was already bruising. You moved scampering quicker as he left you with one last parting smack on your rear as you scuttled past him to embarrassed to look up as Lois walked by your side quietly you flinched as you heard him take off the echoing sound as he broke the sound barrier, knowing he was going to go tell on you. Lois closed the gap resting her hand on your arm lightly as you sniffled she held out your bag for you, you took it quietly.

"A-are you okay?" You nodded a little

"Yeah just embarrassed I never wanted anyone to see that, you probably think I'm stupid" she smiled a little

"I'll admit I've never seen him do anything like that before, sounds like you have tho" you sucked in a deep breath as your bottom stung and throbbed you could just feel the ache of a bruise now forming.

"Yer tha-thats the second time, first was longer but that was worse.... way worse and now I'm gonna have to face Clark, hes going to spank me to,I don't think I can handle two, but if I don't go then I will be in worse trouble." You trembled a little

"So Clark spanks you to?" She asked realizing you didn't know yet. You nodded then shook your head

"No, yes I mean not yet but only cos of how red my ass was when I got to his apartment... Superman found me climbing he caught me and spanked me then sent me to Clark... That’s when we argued and got together weird huh?" She shook her head.

"Not really, He loves you the thought of loosing you could be the thing that broke the camels back....Still tho I feel sorry for you.....More so your ass I mean neither of them are weak by any means.... And I doubt your behaving" you groaned as she chuckled

"Hey come on let me have that one, I mean you just got spanked back there then I find out that your letting both of them spank you?"you scoffed

"Let? you try wriggling away see how far you get! , Superman's a nosy prick who can fuck right off" you shouted up at the sky hoping the bastard could hear you then heard the familiar sound of him roaming the sky. You froze looking to the sky cautiously and gulped, he was still about.

"...Shouldn't have said that, I should not have said that! Lets go before he comes back I don't want another round" you said trying to make your way out of he area asap quickly regretting shouting at him. Lois smiled, you were going to be so pissed off when you find out, but she kept that to her self.

"... You think he was bluffing, like superman can't really go to the office can he? like there'd be to many questions? That suit is so tight I doubt he has a pocket for a phone....right?" she hissed through her teeth seeing where you were going.

"Well I couldn't say, but I don't think you can keep it from Clark. I mean their close....really close two peas in a pod"

"No shit I realized that when they both had the same views on domestic discipline, it was that cape wearing asshat who gave Clark the idea" she blinked you really had no idea.

"If you want my advice tell him the truth because when he finds out and he will, he will be angry that you broke in and hurt that you lied to him" you sighed

"Your right I suppose, best to get it over with....Could you keep this a secret? Please in all honesty I'd rather you forget the whole thing.." she smiled nodding

"It goes without saying, but I promise I wont tell a soul.... If the league are on this tho we should leave it." You blinked at her

"What? Do my ears deceive me or is Lois Lane, THE Lois lane dropping a story?" You gaped at her she nodded.

"From the way he said it...He was serious... Whatever is in there is dangerous and we should leave this one... You nearly got shot over it, in Metropolis! If they are willing to risk that type of law suit then its big business in there....And no offense but I'm not really itching for a trip over someone's knee anytime soon." you scoffed but nodded she was probably right.

You kept up small talk on the way back Lois was trying to get your mind off of the inevitable and it worked. It wasn't until you reached the daily planet that your stomach tied in knots. Once you was in the office you felt Clark’s eyes on you before he came over engulfing you in a hug tucking your face in the crook of his neck as you began shaking again. He kissed the side of your head.

"You went there didn't you?" You nodded sniffling he heaved a deep sigh

"You stupid stupid girl, are you hurt? What happened? I know something happened from the minute you walked in" you fumbled with your words a little going to brush him off but a look from Lois quickly made you change your mind.

"I broke in..... And got spotted and I was shot at....A tiny bit....Like teeny weeny bit shot at" He quickly pulled you away his face set firm as he stared at you.

"S-superman saved me and then he well..... You know..." you flushed but he simple blinked at you

"He what?" You groaned and nodded behind you he fixed you with a look and grasped your ass squeezing you hissed stepping on tip toes trying to wriggle away from his hand.

"Oh so he gave you another spanking?" He said still applying pressure to your tender warm cheeks, you nodded hissing at him still trying to escape.

"Yes! and he did it in front of Lois even when I begged him not to! Claarrk! Stoop it hurts!" You whined at him he only sighed shaking his head at you giving you a severe look making you feel even more sorry for yourself.

"Good its definitely what you deserve and you can expect another when we leave today, I specifically told you not to go there. What was you thinking?"

"Kent is everything alright?" You both turned looking at Perry you nodded but Clark shook his head

"Y/n isn't really feeling well" Perry nodded regarding you

"She does look a flushed... Probably best you take a half day y/n" you nodded at him thanking him, thinking this the perfect time to escape your unimpressed boyfriend.

"I will to if that’s alright? I've already handed in my article today and I can look after her god knows someone needs to, she's to stubborn to do it herself" Clark asked Perry, he nodded knowing even feeling unwell you’d probably go home and work anyway.

Twenty minutes of awkward silence later you both arrived at his apartment. He was angry. But it was an eerie calm anger. He dropped his keys and bag taking your bag from you then kicked his shoes off you did the same unable to take the silence anymore

"Clark I'm sorry, I really am I didn't intend to be spotted" he sighed

"No one ever intends to get caught.But that’s no excuse... I told you not to go! Fuck I didn't say that for fun I said it because I love you and I don’t want you to get hurt, I was worried when I didn't see you in the office and I just hoped you listened, trying to kid myself that you had found another safe story to do. I was terrified all I could do was wait for you to return or to receive a phone call from A hospital or-or police department and I was worried for good reason you was shot at! Shot y/n!" You quivered as he scolded you, as frightening as the huge man was angry you couldn't help the way your core twitched watching him, the tingling of your clit returning as he ran a hand through his hair messing it up.

He stopped and pointed a finger at you.

"It was a dumb thing to do and no matter how bruised your ass is this time I'm adding to it !" You shrunk as he walked past you deeper into the living room. Sitting on the sofa.

"You cant be serious...Claarrk! He has already done it! And in front on Lois No...I’m not having it!" He tilted his head casting a glance over his glasses as you stomped at him, he sighed.

"And I'm not having you running around god knows where getting yourself in trouble being fucking shot at! Come here....Now" he said quietly you gulped as his voice got deeper shaking your head stepping back a few steps. He leaned forward pulling him self off the seat and in four quick strides he was in front of you dragging you forward before him.

You fought him feet dragging on the floor ,cursing his large form as he over powered you ushering you around the sofa to the side then paused. He settled for leaning towards you pinning you between him and the arm of the sofa moving his hands forward he popped the button on your jeans batting at your hands leaving sharp slaps to them as you resisted and tried to fight him trying to hold them up. He quickly halted your efforts making you whine at him tugging them down making you squeak flushing as he peeled them down you held his shoulders as he wrestled your legs out of them. You stood back still trying to wriggle free

"No..Please don’t Clark!" You protested all of your bravado failing yet again as you were placed bare ass over the sofa waiting for what was promising to be a very uncomfortable spanking. Clark smirked noting that your protests sounded more like a panicked little girl who didn’t think her daddy was serious as you soon found yourself bent over the arm of the sofa one of his hands at the curve of your spine holding you down.

"How can you still be so bratty with an ass this red? Hmm? This time he wasn't thorough enough, I will fix that!" You cringed as he moved his hand across your two glowing cheeks pressing his hands in letting you feel how hot and swollen you was,  you moved yours back to him trying to shield your already hot cheeks. You whined pitifully as he moved them in front of you

"Keep these up here!" You nodded finally giving into him as he moved to stand at an angle quickly connecting his hand making you claw at his sofa cushions trying to inch yourself forward, but it was no use he had you tucked securely against the arm not leaving you anywhere to go. you yelped as he raise his hand again making sure to hit the pinkest part of your cheeks, you kicked out whining at him. He chuckled it was cute your feeble struggles as he popped you on your sore red bottom again and again sending you into a full blown paddy.

"CLARK!PLEASE STOP!" he tilted around to meet your gaze seeing your bright red face. He stuck out his bottom lip at you mirroring your pout.

"Aww poor y/n is it already sore?" You nodded sniffling feeling completely humiliated already.

"Well then maybe you should start doing as your told." He finished his statement with a firm slap that rippled across your ass, you wailed fidgeting clawing at the sofa cushion beneath you as he continued to spank your ass and thighs. Your toes curled into the carpet below you as his hot palm landed again and again each time in a slightly different place slowly working in rounds across your bottom. It wasn't long before the pain truly set in, a deep burn building on your already smarting cheeks that made you truly feel small and naughty, ashamed of yourself for being naughty and ending up in this position.

You cried true tears as he move lower to a more sensitive spot cupping his hand on impact making the sting almost sweet as the jolt went straight to your aching clit making you throb with need. Fat tears rolled down your face as he moved you higher stretching out your cheeks giving him easy access to the crease of your thighs that Superman couldn't reach earlier.

"NOO! Clark pl-please sto-op I'm sorry OWW NO! I wont do it again! Please!" He huffed at you as you choked out the words around sobs that wracked your body jolting when you heard the quicker stinging slaps echo through the room, moving your hands back trying to cover yourself tho you wasn't sure if it was to shield your ass or hide your drenched pussy.

He had already spotted it, he growled capturing both wrists pinning them to your back as he smelt you, some of your juices was already clinging to his fingertips where he had spanked a little lower then necessary, it gave him an idea he knew that he couldn't continue on your ass for much longer.

"I hope so! Do you know just how worried I was! You little BRAT! Your so lucky that I wasn't there had I been I wouldn't have left your jeans up in front of Lois you can be damn sure of that!" You whined not really sure how he new you hadn't been spanked bare by the man of steels but you couldn't dwell on it as he moved again pressing a hand to the top of your cheeks digging his blunt fingers into the darkened flesh making you whine pitifully at him to stop through your tears.

”You.will.never.disobey.me.like.that.again!...do you understand me?" you nodded weakly as he emphasized each word with harder and harder spanks on the crease of your bottom making it just as bright as the rest of your ass. Finally you felt him pull away and you sighed still sobbing your heart out, half in pain the other humiliation at how your body had reacted to him.

You twisted trying to cross your legs as you felt your arousal drip down your thighs in long embarrassing streams and yelped when he kicked out your ankles wider and moved to peel back your lips taking a long look at your wanting core, chuckling when he saw how you clenched longingly, wanting to be stuffed full. He sighed as you tried to fight him.

"Oh no you don’t let daddy see..." you whined pressing your face into the cushion hissing and bucking into his hand as he ran a fingertip up and down your slit.

"Oh god! Dont LOOK! STOOPP!"  You were silenced with a all be it lighter spank straight on your revealed clit making you screech that broke of into a moan then another and another you clenched on each strike, his spanks on your pussy pushing you closer and closer to a trembling orgasm he stopped just shy of your release making you heave deep breaths.

He tutted at you leaving his hand wedged between the two pink lips rubbing across you harshly in an up and down motion.

"Oh sweet baby~ don’t tell me your were going to cum on my palm as I spanked your naughty little pussy?" You groaned as he moved his hand dipping two wide fingers into you leaving your mouth agape as he scissored them, he concentrated on your high pitched sounds and the way your pussy began clenching and suckling.

"Oh you were weren't you? So so ready for me hmm? Just a needy little girl~" You shivered and moaned trying to grind on his fingers as the brushed your walls massaging them just right you gasped when he began fucking you faster and harder onto his fingers them held them still buried deep to the knuckles curling them.

You jolted as he hit that spot, the smooth patch of nerves that will finally finish you off the edge.

"Is this all you wanted baby? Such a naughty baby~ You were acting out so daddy would bring you home and punish you? Maybe that what I should do, punish my needy little girls cunt, fuck her until shes a very sore very sorry little girl" As he spoke he was watching listening to your heart rate the way you struggled to breath you were close, his dirty talk seemed to do the trick , he could feel your body clenching as he called you his naughty baby. He quickly and cruelly pulled away at the last second laughing when your little pussy tried holding on to him as he withdrew his fingers he watched the pleasure fade and become annoyance you really had been just about to cum.

"Poor baby~" his voice was condescending, belittling  and it made your knees shake. He was sexy just being his normal shy farmboy self but here and now he seemed like a totally different animal! The confidence and raw power he had over you was...It was breathtaking and arousing...definitely not what you expected from the man. Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed, he somehow knew you wanted a daddy, to spank and fuck you into behaving, the thoughts of the huge man taming you left you a mess beneath him.

Your protest was immediate you moved side to side letting your thighs rub at your swollen lips trying desperately to trap your clit between them. Your voice hoarse from begging and pleading with him

"I NOO! CL-CLARK PLEASE I WANT!-" he shut you up with another spank to your pussy making you gasp and widen your legs craving any sort of contact.

"Huh? I’m sorry You what? You might have to speak louder so I can hear you?" You turned resting the side of your face on the sofa looked at him tears still streaming slowly down your face.

"I-I want to cum! Please Clark please I want you to fuck me! Spank me again, just I-I want you to do something PLEASE DADDY! " he tilted his head and sighed looking at you from the top of his eyes enjoying the little game. Reveling in the fact you'd acknowledged him as your daddy; your dom your one and only, he felt it in his bones the way you'd given in, falling to his need to dominate you completely.

"Well now is that so?...All I hear is a disobedient little madame demanding things...Well I'm afraid that 'I want' never gets around here.." You whined

"I SAID PLEEAASSEE!"

"And I said no! Not until you beg nicely, until ask me with a pretty please~" closing your eyes, him seeing your arousal from his chastisement is one thing but he wanted you to beg? You flushed and wriggled back. He moved deciding that you needed some encouragement chuckling rubbing a single finger down your slit pinpointing your clit and rubbed harshly for a few breaths then pulled back hovering it just out of your reach. You snapped twisting again to him

."Please daddy~ I'm sorry I was bad, Please let me make it up to you? Let me play with you, make you happy and show you just how sorry I am for being a brat again~" for a moment he wavered wanting to stop this game and fuck you full right there.

He still might. With a grin he leant down over you making sure to let you feel his hard cock he smiled as his teasing worked as you whimpered pitifully pressing back to him.

"Ahh...You want daddy to play with you?....is that it? you want me to finger fuck your needy little pussy until, your just gushing all over me? well baby?" You moaned weakly at his filthy words going bright red and nodded.

"Y-YES PLEASE! FUCK TOUCH ME PLEASE CLARK I CAN'T...I'M SORRY!" Your cry was loud and uneven as you fought to wrestle  your arms free trying to move back against him, to find something to grind on. He moved quickly unable to deny himself anymore the sight of you bent over and red assed and begging for him; for your daddy to fuck you any which way made him snap, it was all the permission he needed.

More tears fell this time in relief as you felt his hand drop to his waist then heard his belt move as he undone it with one hand quickly shucking down his trousers, he wasted no time lining up and with one sharp bone shaking thrust he embedded what felt like 10 inches straight into your quivering heat.

You screamed out but he quickly curbed it as he caught the scruff of your neck and pressed you into the sofa, the movement took your feet completely off the floor leaving them to kick about behind you. Perfect. Now your really did have to endure whatever he threw at you. Had you been able to see him you would have seen an abnormally dark look cross his normally sweet face. You groaned high cringing as he plowed his way into you holding himself deeper then anyone you'd had before.

You gasped finding it hard to breath with him leaning over you pressing your body down into the sofa you tired calling out to him as you began panicking when he pressed your face further into the sofa making you go a little dizzy, thoughts becoming hazy as your airflow was being cut off slowly as he rocked slowly fucking any tiny breaths you took right out of you. Just as you began to panic more he moved his hand moving to twist in your hair pulling your face up. You took deep gasping breaths crying out as he pulled back and rocked his hips into yours, making sure to slap his thighs harshly into your bruised bottom making you groan in slight pain, not that he could really tell with all the moaning you were doing. He wanted to make this a little painful, after all you'd been a bad girl.

He grunted loudly into your ear his breaths huffing past your ear making sure you heard just how good you felt for him. You tried turning to kiss him but he gave a quick shake of your hair.

"OOhh FUCK-YES THAT’S IT ugh ugh no~ your not kis-SHIT NOT YET BABY! fuck not yet no!. No your not kissing daddy only OH MY GOD!Fuuuck! Only good girls get kisses and your a bad baby! Bad babies don’t get kisses!" You whined slumping forward as much as you could pouting, you hissed whining and moaning as he pulled you up by your hair.

"What are you?" You whined shaking your head but he growled shaking you by your hair slightly, you cried out at the sting in your scalp.

"I'M AHH FUCKplease! CLARK! DADDY NONONONO! PLEASE I'M SORRY! I'M A BAD BABY! I'M A VERY BAD BABY!"

"ugh fuck yes! Yes you are and you're going to stay right here and let me fill that little pussy! If your lucky I might let your naughty little cunt cum over my cock... But don’t even think about cumming until I say so." How he managed to talk so evenly whilst fucking you so thoroughly.

You cried out a loud animalistic sound as he moved back before thrusting into you deeper then you thought possible, hitting your cervix with a force you'd never experienced almost winding you. You whined as he battered away at your core your muscles protested weakly to his cocks heavy thrusts stretching around him so tightly, you felt his pulse throbbing away inside of you each time he impaled you on him his veins rubbing at your walls in a pleasantly addictive pace. 

You moaned every nerve in your body was alight arms tensing. He moved you releasing your hair and tucking his hands around your thighs pulling them further apart the action let him bury himself deeper inside of you, taking your breath away as he fucked you roughly , you twitched hissing as his balls slapped against your sore spanked clit making you see stars softly grunting as the abuse on your clit pushed you higher a surge of heat rolling around in your tummy just waiting to let loose. Somehow he knew and began grunting at you.

"Don’t you fucking dare! You hold it or I'm going to fuck your ass to!" You yelled out as he forced himself into your body with renewed vigor leaning down you bit the cushion below you trying to fight off the climax that was seconds away. The stinging heat of your ass was being punished all over again only this time it was his thighs doing the spanking. He tilted you up further your breasts now laying on the sofa cushion as he rutted into you his thrusts sloppy and he moaned louder and louder he was close you could feel him swelling, ready to fill you with his cum, to claim you as his own little fuck toy and ruin you.

"BEG! BEG FOR ME TO FILL YOUR CUNT!" You gasped as he spanked you making your muscled coiled tightly around his cock.

"PLEEAASSEE DADDY PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME! FUCK ME FULL LIKE YOUR LITTLE WHORE! LIKE I’M JUST YOUR TOY PLEASE! DADDY I WANT IT PRETTY PLEASE!" you shouted the words barely having the breath to beg him.

"Fuck yes good girl! Such a good toy for daddy! Now cum that right you can cum on daddy's cock!" You cried in relief letting go trembling as you came over him, arching wildly it was a full body orgasm like you’d never experienced before. You couldn’t even voice your pleasure far to lost in the shivering euphoria.

Your quivering heat sucked him so tightly as you came not even he could continue to hold out roaring as you forced him to cum inside of you, you’d actually milked him! Sucked the cum right out of his balls Forced him to release his cum and drench your insides.

You both eventually came down from your highs you were still bent over the sofa tears trailing from your eyes tho your really unsure why panting heat going ten to the dozen. He patted your back and pulled himself free gasping and sweaty. He moved around you on unsteady feet and sat near your head he moved pulling you across his lap tucking you into his chest.

You moaned as he moved your tender body across the cushions to him you noticed at some point of his wild punishment fuck he had removed his shirt. You looked up at him smiling giggling slightly smoothing some of your loose hair out of your face. He sighed pressing a firm kiss to your neck then grunted pulling back and removing his slightly fogged glasses placing then on the table. He leaned back staring at you intently you blinked then moaned trying to find a more comfy place the sit wincing as your tender lower half moved against his thick thighs. You pouted as he chuckled running a hand through his hair moving the curls to the side, you froze looking at him.

"W-what? Clark? You look just like...." he froze realizing just what you meant and nodded sighing he was quick to wrap an arm around your waist so you wouldn't run.

"Yes....I-I am I mean" you tilted your head as he unconsciously tried to hide his face

"Your?....YOUR Superman? Its you whos-whos been? You've been saving me? Spanking me?" He nodded weakly unsure if you was angry or not. You looked at him in disbelief moving to cup his face gently when he wouldn't look at you you curled up tucking yourself into his chest hugging him far to exhausted to argue and cuss him out for being a dick. He moved slowly wrapping his other arm around you hugging you rubbing your back.

"I'm sorry....I really am, I don’t know why I do those dangerous things...I just always have...Never had to think about other people before" you felt him nod and kiss your head.

"Well now you do, I was terrified. Am terrified when I see you do those stupid stupid things I'm terrified that one day...One day I wont be fast enough, strong enough to save you....I am not invincible there are things out there that can weaken me and one day I might not be able to save you one day I might not be there to find you" you cringed at just how he said the words he was telling the truth.

"I-I will be better from now on...I will try to stop my adrenaline seeking habits...But it will take time, Ive always been like this." He smiled kissing you deeply.

"I know you will little girl~ but your always going to have me hovering over your shoulder...Maybe I could take you flying? To get your fix?" He chuckled as you remembered your last little flight with him. You shook your head.

"N-no thank you Clark I didn’t like that..." he smirked at you nipping at your ear

"like you’d have a choice baby girl~ I think that’s what I’m going to do from now on when I catch you being naughty, scoop you up and fly you off somewhere for a good old spanking!" You groaned

"Noooo Clark don’t! No more spanking...And someone will seee!" he laughed at your pout and poked your nose watching as you scrunched it at him huffing

."Oh yes little lady spanking is something we are definitely keeping up with you sorely need it,  and don’t worry there are many quiet places I can take you to tan that naughty little bottom!...And now you know you’d best behave at work to~ no more three hour lunch breaks to go see a movie...Yes I know all about that" You flushed and buried your face in his neck whingeing at him yawning, the days events catching up to you. He sighed tightening his hold on you breathing in your scent.

"I love you baby never forget that" you mumbled it back to him tiredly making him smile as you snuggled into him, he had no doubt that tomorrow you’d be mad at him and sulk over going to work with a bruised bottom and the fact that he has been the one spanking you around town. But that was tomorrow and he could deal with it then for now he was content, the truth was now out and it was a huge weight lifted from him and he could rest peacefully knowing you were safe and sound with him.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Nightmare In A Dream (Part 4)

Summary: Six months after reuniting with the Winchesters and her brother, things are going good for the reader. She and Dean are happily together and occasionally stay with her brother, Matty, and Sam, who has been getting him used to normal life. Life appears to be heading in a good direction when the past has a way of creeping up again and dropping a bombshell on them all...

Pairing: Serial Killer!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Square: AU!Dean

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: mature (language, angst, death/murder, drugging/kidnapping, family drama)

A/N #1: This is a spin off of A Dream In A Nightmare and takes place ~6 months later. It’s recommended that fic is read prior to this one...

_____

“Rise and shine boys,” you said with a yawn when you parked next to Sam’s truck around seven in the morning. Dean stirred in his seat, Dylan cracking his neck. He took off the shirt over his face and rubbed his eyes, blinking wearily a few times. The three of you got out, Sam stepping out onto the porch with a gun by his side.

“You guys in one piece?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re good,” said Dean. Sam walked over and gave Dean and you each a hug before turning his gaze on Dylan. 

“You sure he’s not playing us?” asked Sam.

“We’re pretty-”

“Maggie, stop!” said Matty from inside as a giant blur of fur came rushing outside. The dog sat down and looked up at you, wagging her tail. Matty popped out and threw his head back. “Good girl.”

“Uh, Matty,” said Sam, Matty already pausing as he walked over to get the dog. He stared at Dylan, getting a small smile in return.

“Hey, rascal,” said Dylan. Dylan looked surprised when Matty ran over and hugged him tight. “Hey. It’s alright.”

“I thought…” he said with a shaky breath. He was crying and you squeezed your eyes shut. God, if Dylan was lying to you, it would destroy Matthew. When you opened them Dean was nudging your side.

“Look at Dylan,” he mumbled in your ear. It took a moment to realize that the loud crying wasn’t coming from Matty. Dylan had his head buried in your little brother’s shoulder, his back heaving. “When’s the last time he got a hug you think?”

“Eighteen years old,” you said. 

“I’m okay, Matty,” said Dylan, wiping his face off. “I’m just really happy to see you.”

“Are you gonna stay? Dylan can stay right?” he asked, looking over at the three of you. You nodded and they both smiled. “Oh! This is my dog, Maggie. I just got her. She’s really good at tricks. Remember we were gonna get one?”

“I remember,” said Dylan, giving her a few pets. “You’ll have to show me later. We had a long night.”

“Why don’t you head back to bed, Matty? It’s still early,” said Sam.

“Okay. You guys gonna be here when I wake up?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’ll be here,” you said. “You’re making breakfast later, alright?”

“Alright,” he said. He headed inside with the dog and shut the door the four of you going up to the chairs on the front porch.

“Still want to hurt him?” you asked. Dylan shook his head and took a deep breath. “He doesn’t ever need to know what you said.”

“Thank you,” he said. “He seems good.”

“He is,” you said. “Before I fall asleep, can we go over this?”

“Sammy, like we texted on the way up, Dylan has some information about Lewis, about what happened when we were kids,” said Dean.

“I looked into some stuff last night while you guys were driving,” said Sam. “Dylan, you can tell your piece first.”

“Lewis is a grade A piece of shit,” said Dylan. “We can all agree on that. But he was pushed into becoming one. Or should I say, he gave into being one due to circumstance. You knew Lewis as your neighbor, right? Younger guy with a lot of money, parents recently died?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, sitting back in his chair.

“All that is true. What you didn’t know is that Lewis was married. He had a daughter too. The parents, along with Lewis’ wife and daughter, all died in a car accident,” said Dylan.

“I mean, that’s sad and explains where the money came from but-” said Dean, Dylan shaking his head.

“Lewis earned some of his fortune through his parents passing, that part is true. But he made a lot of it another way. Working at Winchester Corp. Junior Vice President, reporting directly to John Winchester,” said Dylan.

“No Lewis ever was a member of the corporate board,” said Sam.

“Because Lewis isn’t his real name. He bought a new identity for himself. He changed his appearance, dyed his hair, lost weight. By the time your family met Lewis, John Winchester had no idea he was actually speaking to his former employee.”

“Who was he?” you asked. “Lewis.”

“He was Jim Hockley,” said Dylan.

“Wasn’t that the guy that drove drunk and killed his family?” said Sam. 

“You did your research, Sam. Yes, that’s what every paper, media outlet, even police report said. Except Jim was never in that car. John Winchester was. He got drunk at a corporate family party but you boys know your father. He could fool the best of them,” said Dylan.

“Dad didn’t have a drinking problem,” said Sam. Dean sighed and closed his eyes. “Not back then. After the attack, yeah, he did but-”

“Sammy, dad had problems. You were little but mom and dad fought about it. He pushed her once. I saw and pushed back. I never broke my two fingers on the swing set,” said Dean. “We just said that. It was a one time thing though and as soon as he realized he’d grabbed me too hard…”

“So dad was a drunk,” said Sam, scratching his head.

“Yes, he was,” said Dylan. “Jim left this party to go do some work up in the office for a few hours. John took it upon himself to drive Jim’s company car and take his family home. He ended up driving straight into a pole. John in his inebriated state was fine. Jim’s parents and wife were killed on impact. The daughter, due to her grandparents protecting her in a split second, didn’t die. John sobered up quickly, the daughter crawled out the back, and in that moment, John realized his life was about to be over if there was a witness. So he grabbed a shard of broken glass and stabbed the only witness. John quickly got out of there, made his way back to the company, cleaned himself up and went back to the party. Twenty minutes later police came and arrested Jim on a slew of charges. He was drinking at the party too so he was easily over the legal limit. Jim didn’t understand any of this until his lawyer provided an autopsy report on his daughter. There was an inconsistency and Jim put it all together. He confronted John while out on bail and he all but admitted it. John had no remorse. Jim knew he couldn’t win the court case so he ran. He ran, changed his name, and set out to destroy John’s life. One child for another except Jim wasn’t going to be satisfied with just that. He wanted John to suffer and making his child suffer for the rest of their life seemed like a good compromise. It’s never been about you Dean. You were unlucky was all, just like Y/N was.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Sam, Jim’s family. Look up a picture on your phone for me,” said Dylan. You turned your head, Sam going still after a moment. “Yeah. I know.”

“Y/N, you look just like her, the daughter,” said Sam, spinning the phone around. At first glance you would have thought that was you in the photo on the screen.

“He saw us out to dinner one night he said. It’s when his little plan all came together,” said Dylan.

“But last night, you said the stuff about the FBI and my dad hating Y/N,” said Dean.

“Dean, your father made so many of his millions running drug through the company. He traded that information for witness protection for him and Sam. You though, you your father made a deal with Lewis that day he attacked your family. He’d let Lewis have you if he left Sam alone. So you stayed out, on your own, the FBI gave protection for the information and by the time you took over the company again, the company was clean of any past indiscretions. You would have never known. The FBI never gave two shits about Lewis. As far as they were concerned, your family was attacked because of a drug deal gone wrong,” said Dylan.

“What about the hating me part?” you asked.

“Well...Lewis didn’t happen upon our family on his own. John saw us first, right after Lewis confronted him. He offered to tell Lewis who we were so he could have his daughter back if he left the Winchesters alone. Lewis came up with a different plan.”

“So you’re saying our dad killed Lewis’ parents, his wife, murdered a little girl who he could have saved, offered me to Lewis and offered up Y/N too all to save his own ass?” asked Dean.

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Dylan.

“Telling stories without permission?” said Lewis from out of nowhere. You jumped as he walked around the corner of the cabin, a large gun in his hand. “No one move.”

“I swear,” said Dylan, staring at you. “I didn’t-”

“Oh, I put a tracker in your back years ago,” said Lewis. “Wasn’t your fault. Sounds like the kiddos know the full story now. Here’s how this goes. Dean-”

“Shut the fuck up,” said Dean. He stood up and stepped down onto the grass, the rest of you following after. “Just shut the fuck up. I am sorry your family died you waste of human space, I am. No matter who you are and what you’ve done to all of us, they didn’t deserve that and especially a child. But we were kids too. All of us and Matty. You killed our moms. You killed their dad. You hurt all of us. You already got your fucking revenge. You have a problem with John, then fine but that is his problem. We never did a damn thing wrong and we’re done being afraid of you.”

Lewis looked back and forth a few times before his gaze fell on you.

“I’d be ashamed if you were my father,” you said. “I used to think you were evil. Now I know you’re just pathetic.”

“I’m too deep in this now,” said Lewis, aiming his gun. “I know you’re right. I’ve known you’re right for a very long time. So don’t move and none of you will even feel a thing.”

You heard a shot and Dean shoved you to the ground. He felt all over you but you weren’t hit. You sat up with him, Lewis laying on the ground, coughing up blood. To your left your saw Matty, holding a shotgun.

“Okay,” said Dylan rushing over when Matty went a little wide eyed. “It’s okay.”

“He was…” he said.

“I know. Let’s go put this back inside. Maybe Maggie can show me a few tricks now, huh?” said Dylan. “You got him covered?”

“Yeah. Take care of Matty,” you said, Dean walking over and picking up the gun Lewis had dropped. When they were out of view Dean cocked the gun, Lewis trying to take a deep breath.

“Go ahead. I deserve it,” coughed Lewis. Dean aimed the gun lower and shot him in the leg, Lewis groaning. “Kill me.”

“I give you about four minutes before you bleed out. I want you to enjoy every single one of those,” said Dean, putting the safety back on the gun. 

“Your father is a coward. He killed your family as much as I did. He wanted to give Sam and you both to me. He never cared for you. If he wanted to find me, he would have done it years ago,” he said.

“You kill bad people, Jim. You don’t hurt the innocent ones. When you don’t know the difference or just don’t care, that’s what makes you a monster. Don’t worry about my father. I’d be more concerned with where you’re going to wind up very, very soon.”

Lewis didn’t say anything more, just groaned a few times before he went quiet and still. 

“What do you want to do with him,” said Sam eventually. 

“I’ll take care of it. You don’t know how to clean up a body,” said Dean. “Y/N, go make sure your brothers are okay.”

“John offered my family up to slaughter,” you said.

“He lost any good will I had for him at murdering a little girl to save himself. We’ll figure out a plan for our dad. At least he’s not actively trying to kill us,” said Dean.

“But he wanted Lewis to catch us. He didn’t care, Dean,” said Sam.

“He’s not going to get off, Sammy. I think we have an answer right in front of us,” he said nodding towards Lewis. “Dad’s only cared about his own survival, right? He doesn’t know Lewis is dead. We get him to confess to the past murder, point the evidence towards Lewis’ death, get him caught in a trap.”

“It’d be easier to kill him,” mumbled Sam.

“Which is why we’re gonna talk about it in a little bit. Lewis just died. I need a minute, alright? Thank you,” said Dean. He walked off and over to a shed on the property, finding a tarp inside and tossing it over Lewis. He walked off around to the back of the cabin, leaving you and Sam to yourselves.

“Just because Lewis said that stuff to Dylan doesn’t make it true,” said Sam.

“You said you researched. Did you ever come across Jim Hockley?” you asked.

“It lines up with what Dylan said. Lewis was smart, he could have…” said Sam, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Do you think your father is capable of something like that?” you asked.

“Sadly, yes,” said Sam.

“We don’t…” you said, Sam turning towards you.

“Could you kill Dylan if you had to?” he asked.

“If I had no other choice, I could,” you said. “To protect my family.”

“Does that include me and Dean?” he asked. You made a face and Sam smiled. “Stupid question.”

“I guess the question is, is John a threat to us?” you asked.

“I don’t think that’s the question, Y/N,” said Sam. “Dean said it himself. When you don’t care about hurting innocent people, that’s when you become a monster. We both know what Dean does to monsters.”

“I know. Come inside. I need some coffee,” you said. You went into the cabin, Dylan sitting on the couch with Matty, giving a quick smile that everything was alright. Sam veered off into the kitchen as you watched Dean sitting on the back porch step.

After you had two cups in hand, you went outside, taking a seat beside him.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip from the mug you handed him. “Those guys okay?”

“Yeah. The nightmare is over to them it seems,” you said.

“Still a nightmare,” said Dean. “That dream we had, living back home in town, marriage, kids, getting Matty a place nearby, Sam too...it was all just a stupid dream, wasn’t it.”

“Lewis is dead in the front yard. I’d think we should be celebrating.”

“My dad single-handedly destroyed your family. Your parents were murdered. Your brothers have been detained for well over a decade. You were forced to kill. How in the ever living fuck do you not hate me with every fiber of-”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, Dean surprised at first but slowly easing into it. You broke off and cupped his cheek, Dean’s green eyes staring straight into your own.

“I love you and I’m always going to love you, De. What John did is on him, not your or Sam or anyone else. You are still the person I know loves me and will protect me and gives my brothers a chance,” you said. You took his free hand in yours, Dean closing his eyes. “We are still going to have all of those things.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, opening his eyes and giving you a sad smile. 

“Yeah, you do. It’s almost over and then we can go live the rest of our lives safely,” you said.

“It’s already happening,” said Dean, rubbing his hand over his face. You cocked your head and he took a deep breath. “I called the old FBI touch point guy I had when I was a kid a few minutes ago. I told him my father reached out to me and was in trouble with something but wouldn’t say specifics. I told them where to meet my dad.”

“You know where your dad is?” you asked.

“Yeah. He didn’t know to be hiding from us so he didn’t,” said Dean.

“How does that solve anything?” you asked.

“Because my father is about to get into a shoot out with the FBI and he will not walk away from it,” said Dean.

“How do you know?” you asked. 

“Because I told them he said he murdered a little girl,” said Dean. “I told them he admitted to Hockley’s daughter murder. He’s too much of a coward to leave alive.”

“Are you sure that’ll work?”

“I’ll know in about an hour I suppose.”

Two Hours Later

“Lewis is officially disposed of and never to be seen again,” said Dean, washing up his hands as he came back inside the cabin. You were settled on the couches around the TV, watching the news coverage. “Is dad dead?”

“Shot himself,” said Sam. “They had the house covered and he started spewing nonsense from what they’re saying before he did it. He admitted to the accident and the girl apparently. I’m sure your PR department is having a field day with this.”

“They’re going to re-open the DWI case and Jim Hockley’s disappearance,” you said.

“You’re probably gonna have to give a statement,” said Sam.

“That’s fine,” said Dean. He took a seat beside you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back into his chest. He kissed the top of your head and you looked up, Dean’s eyes a little red. 

“S’okay,” you whispered. “It’s done with, Dean.”

He tugged you up and you went back to one of the bedrooms, Dean leading you over to the bed to lay down. 

“You want to take a nap?” you asked.

“Want to be alone with you for a little while. I just got my dad killed. I don’t...I don’t know how to feel about that,” he said, laying back on the bed. You went with him, wrapping yourself all around him as he sighed. “I loved him and I’m not sure that he ever loved us. Even after knowing everything he did to us, got done to us...I don’t want to feel bad about what just happened but I do.”

“Dean, do you remember when you told me about that time your spilled your dad’s whiskey on him in his office? You were about nine, you said.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember telling me what your dad did when you ruined his suit pants? Your mom and Sam were out shopping. It was just you two. You remember how he punished you?”

“But they had to be $500 pants at least. They were expensive. The alcohol was probably another hundred,” said Dean.

“Are you saying that accidentally wasting six hundred dollars deserves a hand on a hot burner?” you said. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes. “You had to lie about how you got it too. Dean. Even before your father destroyed Jim Hockley’s life, he was an abusive drunk that hurt his own family. Who knows what more he would have done to you as you got older. I know you loved him and I want you to grieve if you need to. But just feel however you need to. Be upset about it, be happy. Just don’t feel guilty for whatever you need to feel.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you, when Lewis said that stuff over the radio,” he said.

“Did you doubt me? Or did you just think ‘no, she wouldn’t’ a lot?” you asked. He blinked and you shrugged. “You looked so confused. It was so obvious you were confused, De.”

“I just...I got overwhelmed,” said Dean. “It’s so rare I’m not in control that I don’t think I knew what to do.”

“This time you do,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair, Dean closing his eyes. “Be overwhelmed and fall apart, Dean. I’m right here.”

“Y/N, you have all your shit you’re going through too,” he said.

“I might fall apart too,” you said. “Just stay close and we’ll get through today like we have every other bad one.”

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, Dean.”

Three Weeks Later

“Matty! We’re gonna leave without you if you don’t hurry up,” said Dean from near the front door. You’d been back home in town for close to three weeks. Dean had given a statement about his father that was a lot angry but sad enough to make it clear John had been a lone wolf in his operations. Sam was officially alive again after a very long discussion with the FBI. Dylan had his new identity and was learning most days with Sam and Matty. Your brothers were making plans about what to do with themselves but it sounded like they were both interested in college at the moment. “Matthew!”

“I’m coming!” said Matty as he jogged down the hall from your old bedroom. He slipped on his sneakers and was out the front door before the rest of you, the five of you piling into Dean’s SUV.

“Should be about half hour. Hopefully we can avoid traffic,” said Dean.

“I want nachos,” said Matty. “And a hotdog. And a beer.”

“He is 21,” you said when Dean gave you a look.

“You don’t want that watered down crap. I mean, we’re gonna drink it, but were gonna get you an IPA later on, then you’ll see what beer is,” said Matty.

“How about a pale ale instead?” said Sam.

“Sammy. Lager,” said Dean.

“Matty how about a wine cooler? They taste like fruit juice,” you said.

“Oh, that sounds yummy,” said Matty.

“Maybe we can get some on the way home,” you said. Dean rolled his eyes but smiled, driving along with the radio on low. “Hey boys. Dean and I have something we want to tell you.”

“You’re getting engaged, finally,” said Sam.

“In the bahamas,” said Matty.

“On the not so secret vacation you have planned for all of us coming up,” said Dylan.

“How do you know about that?” you asked.

“You guys are kinda obvious when you’re up to something,” said Sam. “You sure you want Matty around a bunch of college aged girls? He’ll have to beat them off with a stick.”

“Me? No way. I’ve never even had a crush on a girl. Or kissed one,” said Matty.

“You’re cute and sweet. You wouldn’t have any trouble,” you said. “But yes, we’re going on vacation, spoil sports.”

“It’ll be a lot of fun,” said Dean. “And no, we’re not getting engaged.”

“We’re not?” you asked.

“Well it’s gonna be a surprise,” said Dean. “Don’t worry. It’ll come when it comes.”

“Alright, alright,” you said.

A little more than a half hour later you were parked, Sam walking ahead with the guys while you hung back with Dean.

“How you feeling today?” you asked as Dean grabbed a green cooler out of the back.

“Alright. I was watching the news this morning. For a split second, I felt bad for Jim Hockley. If dad hadn’t done those things and made him snap, he’d probably be CFO right now or something,” said Dean.

“I think Jim died a long, long time ago. A monster replaced him.”

“Do you ever think I snapped? Like after I accidentally killed that guy as a teenager and found out I liked it?” asked Dean, sitting down in the back area of the SUV.

“No. You never snapped. You never have,” you said.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you know the difference about good and bad and how there is a gray area to all of it. You care about innocent people, you always have. You didn’t snap, Dean,” you said. “That’s what makes you good. You stop the monsters. You’re not one of them.”

“You doing okay today?” he asked.

“Yeah. Nervous about Matty but he looks like he’s doing good so far,” you said. “I guess we have to get used to normal is all.”

“Eh, normal for us,” said Dean, leaning back. He nodded across the way towards a group of guys tailgating. “One of them killed his wife for the insurance. Got away with it.”

“Dean. After vacation,” you said. He chuckled and nodded. “Want to go watch some football?”

“I would love to, sweetheart. I really would.”

_______

[fatebreaking-a]

// @regina-tenebris / Don’t ask what modern AU this is, I don’t know. I just went off apparently.

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

Emilia’s eyes trail up, up, up - higher still to the titan of a woman who stands a full 40 centimeters over her. It annoys her somewhat, perhaps more because of who it is than her height.

“Do you have business with me or do you intend to keep staring?” She drawls out, her patience especially thin with the other woman. Perhaps due to how they had met, perhaps due to all that came after... She sighs and shakes her head.

Sona stares down at her with a bemused, nonplussed look. Irritation swells in Emilia at the sight before she huffs and turns around, crossing her arms. That woman always seemed to get under her skin, right from the first. “If it’s nothing, then I’ll get going.”

She can’t help but remember all that had brought them to this point.

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

“Valet, park the car.” The driver of her car had called out to a tall woman standing at the receiving area, dressed in a vest and slacks of some kind. Teal hair? Is that some sort of fashion statement? 

“Are you deaf? Here, keys.” Emilia had stepped out of the car at this point to see the exchange, marveling somewhat at the beanpole woman who simply shrugged and shook her head. Strange woman, but she had other business at this company.

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

“You? Aren’t you the...” Once again, she had run into the beanpole woman, but in a rather unexpected place. Emilia’s eyes narrow as she steps into the orphanage, step by step with this strange woman. Especially that unfrazzled look of calm, it was borderline unnerving how different her sense of poise was from Emilia’s. It was like watching the edge of the ocean, watching things was over her again and again... Strange woman. And worse, this beanpole lady was only raising an eyebrow in response.

“The valet from PeraPera Corp.” The ‘valet’ smiles somewhat bewitchingly at that, then shakes her head in refusal. What’s with that... She clearly took my car. And she had walked out from inside the company... Hmph. Emilia’s thoughts stop short as the excited chirp of children fills her ears. This was what she was here for anyway. Not some strange lady.

“Big sis LeBlanc!” Yes, that sounded good. Big sis LeBlanc. A somewhat reserved smile blooms on LeBlanc’s face as a few children run up to her, waving to the tall lady as well. The beanpole offers them a small wave of her hand, then turns her attention to the child who was tugging at her long sleeves.

“Hello to you as well. Do you kids know that woman?”

“Oh, she’s Auntie Asteria!” ‘Auntie’? Emilia stares back at the woman, raising an eyebrow. Perhaps even more surprising is the cry for ‘lift, lift, lift!’ from a few children as that beanpole ‘Asteria’ lifts up four children at once and carts them around. She can’t help but stare at that. She hides her muscles well underneath the loose clothes and long sleeves, huh? Most people would struggle to lift even one person...

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

“You’re certain no one called ‘Asteria’ works in this company?”

“Y-Yes, Chairwoman. We don’t have anyone like that here.” She lets out a little huff and turns around, shaking her head. So was Asteria lying to those kids? Why? It wasn’t as though she needed to act big... Well, she hadn’t heard it from the horse’s mouth, but rather what the kids were saying. 

“Chairwoman LeBlanc!” Some sniveling man was rushing behind her as she walked through the company. Not hers, though they were in talks of a partnership. She waves him off and continues to meander until she at last reaches a strange hallway with one door on one side and plenty of doors on the other. Faintly, the sound of music plays from inside.

‘For entrance, please text XXXXXXX’ Chairwoman Leblanc scoffs at that and tries the doorknob. Locked. 

“Open this.”

“Uh-”

“If I’m to do business with this company of yours, I’d like to know if you have any strange rumors floating about or wastes of money. This certainly qualifies.”

“Y-Yes, very well.” The door unlocks slowly, revealing a large space covered wall to wall in sound proofing. It’s necessary, as music is floating throughout, and all sorts of paraphernalia is placed throughout. A desk, an easel, a music stand, a fold-out couch... and typing away, hard at work, is...

“Sona? That’s your name?” ‘Sona, Consultant? Does a consultant get this kind of office?’ Sona turns her head up and puts her laptop to the side, standing and dipping her head in greeting. She’s dressed in some weird fashion again today, some sort of long embroidered robe... The longer she looked at this situation, the more she felt that this was unnatural.

And Emilia hated any secrets that didn’t belong to her.

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

“I apologize, for last time. I didn’t know about your condition.” Emilia stares up at the beanpole - no, at Sona - as a grim frown floats across her face. Even she could recognize impropriety, and she had gone a little too far. Sona just returns that same smile as always, nodding in acceptance, as they walk through the doors of the orphanage and the squeal of children can be heard.

“Son-” Emilia stops mid-sentence as Sona shoots her a surprising glare and shakes her head. “Asteria.” Sona’s face immediately relaxes as she nods and turns her head towards the children screaming ‘ups, ups, ups’ and immediately lifts them up, swinging the children around playfully.

You want to hide it that badly? Who are you?

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

“This doesn’t make sense. Are these numbers correct?” Emilia was looking over payroll documents she absolutely had no right to have, squinting. That woman, ‘Sona Buvelle’... Had been around since the founding of the company? She was apparently the seventh employee, and her pay had steadily risen for a few years at the start. From a modest starting salary to something larger and larger, as if she were in an executive role...

And then her pay suddenly shrunk to a fraction and had stayed the same for years.  ‘That doesn’t happen. And if it does, people don’t... stick around. What the hell is this?’ It wasn’t an unlivable wage, certainly above poverty, but... Emilia flips through the pages again. She had seen the woman throughout the company, doing this and that, even offering advice or doing technical work. Whether in the creative departments, publicity, engineering... She was everywhere and yet she was the lowest paid person in the company? Emilia’s jaw tightens as she flips through the files again, eyes narrowing.

‘ Who the hell are you... ‘

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

“I figured it out. You’re-”  Emila’s abruptly stops as she’s pulled off the sidewalk roughly, right into Sona’s arms as they both crash backwards. As a car hits the brakes and the driver rushes out to check on them both, Emilia extricates herself from Sona’s arms and huffs. Stupidly nice.

“President Buvelle.” On one side was a woman rushing up, apologizing furiously, and on the other was a woman sitting down with her tongue sticking out slightly and a ‘you got me’ expression on her face.

“You have to hide it that badly?” It all made sense now. Why all the junior staff thought Sona was just a ‘really nice lady’ who had been there a long time, like some sort of mystery benefactor. And why all the senior staff hesitated when talking about her, as if they knew something, but it was in the past. And why, of all things, when she had spoken to Swain about this new mystery lady, he had something as cryptic as ‘Ah yes, I’d been to one of her shows...’ and then said nothing else. Asshole.

Straightening herself up and turning to deal with the nervous looking driver, Emilia shakes her head. She’d just have to deal with this particular mystery later. There had to be a reason, an explanation for this unnatural behavior from such an eccentric president. The answer never came. Sona never stopped being charming, underpaid, and generous. Later became weeks, then months, and without warning, winter arrived.

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

“Hmph.” It was the strangest thing, dealing with Sona now that the business dealings between their companies finished. Normally that would be the end of it, but they had both been coming to the orphanage before, and would probably continue even after. She still didn’t know what to make of the woman, or what sort of relationship they even had. Business rivals? Friends? Coworkers? And that beanpole woman never got any less irritating, letting every incident wash over her like a wave. It was as if she was intentionally trying to throw Emilia off...

Shivering slightly, Emilia closes her eyes and huffs. At the same time, a wool hat is pushed onto her head, pulled just short of her eyes. With a beanie now snugly on her face, Emilia turns around, preparing all manner of verbal counterattack. It was a warm beanie though. “And? Is this a Snowdown gift? Thank you, but I don’t-” Have anything for you, she had meant to say, but her voice dies in her throat as her cold hands are wrapped in warm ones and a soft, hot breath warms up her fingers. Sona’s expression is exceedingly warm as she continues to warm LeBlanc’s hands, smiling faintly.

"You...” What a strange woman. That was the only thing Emilia could say for sure about the person in front of her.

“You really are strange. But I don’t hate that.”

[t0ngue-tech]

Everything Means Nothing Without You

“Namjoon adjusted himself to bring his legs out from underneath the table to you had enough room to maneuver your arms. You stood right in between his knees as you delicately wrapped the silk underneath the collar of his shirt and tied it just right then tucked it behind his vest.

‘Well, well, sir. You’re looking quite dapper.’ You complimented.”

↠ slow burn, arranged marriage AU, friends-to-lovers AU ↞

word count: 3.8k

↠ series ↞

A/N: ah yes, i have arrived with another series LMAO SUE ME. i hope you don’t mind lol. enjoy huhu.

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“Mr. Namjoon, I rearranged your schedule for this afternoon.”

“Thank you.”

“The following associates are still waiting for you to forward the building plans.”

“Please kindly tell them that they will be receiving the documents by five oclock.”

“Of course and dinner has been pushed back to eight instead, the location still needs to be decided.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Oh, and sir?”

“Yes, Mr. Jae?”

“Have a good day.”

It was the same pattern every single day.

Kim Namjoon would wake up at seven in the morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries rising from downstairs of his home. There would always be classical music playing softly just as he exits his bedroom after taking care of himself in the bathroom. As soon as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, two of the housemaids were on either side of the banister waiting to greet him.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.”

His place at the table was already set with his morning coffee ready; a splash of milk and two teaspoons of sugar. Breakfast always varied, but whenever pastries were prepared, he always had two chocolate danishes and a butter croissant. Namjoon would spend an hour eating and going over any instructions his father left for him on his business associated tablet. At this point, his assistant would walk through the corridor to fill him in with any other details Namjoon’s father may have missed in the documents.

This morning routine barely ever changed and just like any other aspect in his life, Namjoon just dealt with it.

Kim Namjoon was the next successor in Kim Corporation. His father, the president of the business, owned restaurants, supermarkets, and now with Namjoon working his way up in the business, music stores were now in the works. Kim Seokjin, Namjoon’s older brother, was in charge of multiple restaurants and had just recently opened up a restaurant of his own.

It was absolutely exhausting following Seokjin around like a lost puppy in the business world, but Seokjin encouraged him to express himself and make a name for himself rather than having their father decide everything for them. Namjoon knew what he meant, which was why he convinced his father to be open to owning music stores. Still unsure if Namjoon truly understood what he meant, Seokjin supported him nonetheless.

Despite being the son of the chairman who owned multiple business chains, receiving a degree in business was mandatory in their family. Their father could have easily taught them everything himself, but college was a must.

Namjoon had classes at a university from eleven in the morning to four in the afternoon with a one hour break between his third and fourth class. Going to class was just another routine that he went along with because it was what his father wanted and it was his duty to listen to his father. 

“Hey, Namjoon. My dad wanted me to congratulate you on securing the bag on a location for a music store.” Min Yoongi, a long time friend, joined him during his break.

“Thanks, Yoongi. Give him my regards, but things aren’t really set in stone yet.”

Yoongi waved a hand in front of his face. “Stone, shmone. The developers are pretty much going to approve since it’s coming from Kim Corp.”

‘Coming from Kim Corp.’ A free one-way ticket.

“Anyway, you busy later? I’ve been wanting to try out your brother’s restaurant.”

“Sorry, I have dinner reservations at eight.” Namjoon replied flatly.

“Oh, so your dad finally found you a willing bride?”

As old school as it sounded, Namjoon’s father was keen on arranged marriages. He believed in knowing what was best for his sons, the business, and the future ahead of them in terms of family and class. 

Seokjin was arranged to marry Bae Irene, whose family owned a law firm, and the two got married last spring. They lived together with Namjoon in a Kim family home and as corny as it was, their marriage was as sweet as can be despite being arranged. They were extremely compatible and gag-worthy-in-love, but Namjoon really liked Irene, she always treated him kindly and with respect.

Namjoon thought it was a waste of time. Why would he take out multiple hours of his day to go on dates with some girl his father picked out for him? It all seemed to be tiring. Being single was his best bet, but his father thought otherwise.

“Definitely not. Just dinner.” Namjoon shut his laptop. “I’ll text you when I’m free so we can go to the restaurant. I have to go to class.”

Swift, chic, and to the point.

Hours ticked on and Namjoon was now in his office of the main corporation building in a joined conference call with his father and another developer. Apparently things were smooth sailing and Namjoon needn’t worry about having his proposal rejected. This was how things usually went and it wasn’t a surprise. His father made such a name for himself that many businesses were eager to be working alongside Kim Corp.

“Did you forward the building plan?”

“Yes, father. I just sent them.” Namjoon touched the trinkets around his desk and spun a pen between his fingers.

“Perfect. Mr. Choi, we are delighted to do business with you.”

“Likewise sir. I’ll be taking my leave. Good day sir, Mr. Namjoon.” Mr. Choi spoke.

“Goodbye, sir.”

The line clicked dead and Namjoon sucked in a deep breath. He stared at his laptop screen barely reading the documents he promised himself to be familiar with. His eyes trailed from the screen, to his name placard, to a framed photograph of a sixteen year old Namjoon and his mother. He reminisced how his mother used to bring him snacks up to his room while he did schoolwork and talked about her day. She always made sure her sons had at least a few minutes of break time between any sort of work because she knew how hectic their father made their schedules. She reminded both Seokjin and Namjoon to relax before they overworked themselves to the grave at such a young age.

If only she followed her own advice.

“I hope you’re proud of me mother.”

Namjoon’s phone lit up on his desk.

“Hm?”

↠↞

“Next week?! I need the fabric by this weekend.”

“I know, Ms. y/n. Before you have a bird, I instructed them that you would take your business elsewhere if you don’t get it by Friday.”

“Thank you so much, Hye Jin. You know I hate acting that way, but Minzy is coming back from Paris on Sunday evening and I need her to approve the fabric and design herself.”

“It’s tough being a designer, but you’re doing great, y/n. Don’t be afraid to put your foot down. It’s your brand, honey. You’re in charge.”

“Thank you and you can leave for now, I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

The only reason why mornings were always so difficult for you was because you cherished sleep more than anything. You did love drinking a cup of coffee first thing in the morning, but the process of dragging yourself out of bed and exerting energy always pained you.

Mornings were never easy, but you enjoyed having your breakfast on the gazebo when the weather was right. You loved partaking in conversation with your family’s gardener and you always encouraged the other house workers to join you for a meal, but they usually declined due to their duties and you respected their decision.

Being the daughter of a famous beautician and a designer of high-end boutiques was always an adventure. Your mother found solace in trying out new hairstyles on you and dying your hair from time to time while your father always gives you access to new clothing he was going to release when the seasons rolled in. While you followed your father’s footsteps, your brother, Jung Hoseok, was your mother’s apprentice. Your parents never pressured you or Hoseok to follow in their footsteps, it just came naturally to the both of you.

Life was a roller coaster of traveling and fashion shows and you enjoyed every second of it no matter how stressed out it made you.

“Hey, you’re really not going to your classes today?” Hoseok walked up the steps of the gazebo with his fading red hair tousled in all sorts of directions.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Mom and dad are still in Milan, so they don’t have to know.” You offered him some of your breakfast, belgian waffles with an assortment of fruit. “Plus, I have a lot to do for your wedding.”

Your parents didn’t want to control either of your lives, but if there was something they had to control it was an arranged marriage. Your grandmother, your mother’s mother, was raised in that manner which was then passed down to your mother who was constantly encouraged (more like pressured) to raise both you and Hoseok the same way.

Five months ago, Hoseok became engaged to Gong Minzy who was a model for high end brands. Your father introduced them after a fashion show and they instantly clicked. Minzy also came from a family of money and reputation so her parents were more than happy to allow her to marry someone with a reputation like Hoseok.

You really loved Minzy for your brother. She always brought out the best in him and she also modeled any experimental design pieces you created. Due to how close you were with Minzy, she had personally asked you to design her wedding dress, the maid of honor and bride’s maids’ dresses. It was a huge honor. There was no way you could say no.

“Thank you again, by the way. Minzy is really elated that you agreed to do this for her.” Hoseok ruffled your hair.

“It’s my pleasure, dude.” You took a peek at your phone. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have silk samples I have to look at at the office.”

Unlike Hoseok, marriage was nowhere near your agenda. It wasn’t because you weren’t interested, but because you were pretty much married to your job and the last guy you went on a date on was a huge pervert. You didn’t have time for disgusting creeps. Your entire focus was on your well being.

Some of the employees were confused as to why you were in the office which you begged them not to say anything to your parents. Entering your office, your assistant, Hye Jin, was already laying out the silk fabric samples for you to take a look at. The fabric was for the ties of Hoseok and his groomsmen’s suits. He never asked you to do it, but it was a small wedding gift that you wanted to give him.

“Is this from the Italy shipment?” You fingered through the small stack of fabric.

“Yes and this,” Hye Jin laid out a sleek box with a deep royal blue tie tucked inside. “This is the sample design.”

Excellent, excellent.

You gently slipped it out of the box and carefully examined every stitch and fold of the tie. Hoseok was your dear brother and he deserves the best so you needed to make sure everything was perfect.

“Okay, I need this to be sampled on someone.” You carefully folded the tie back into the box. “Hye Jin, can you send a text from my phone. Let him know to meet me at our sushi restaurant, he’ll know what I mean.”

“Consider it sent.”

You were so indulged in sketching out the wedding dresses that you almost lost track of time; fortunately Hye Jin was a punctual person so she made sure she had your evening outfit ready for you on the couch in your office. Instead of a loose t-shirt and saggy mom-style jeans, you were now dressed in a pencil skirt and long sleeved blouse that flares out at your wrist.

The sushi restaurant was a high class place you frequented so you recognized a lot of the patrons inside once you walked in. They all greeted you politely as you made your way to one of the private sections. Waiting in one of the sections was a certain ashy-blue haired fellow who you could easily pick out of a line up if you were just given the shape of his shoulders. It was none other than--

“Hey Namu, sorry, I got caught up with my work.” You slid into the seat across from him and took a good look at his outfit. You instructed him to wear a light gray suit with a matching vest and a white button down shirt beneath. “Nice, you’re wearing everything down to a T.”

“It’s no problem. I took the liberty of ordering your favorites, so our food should be out soon.” Namjoon explained cooly.

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t have to talk all proper around me, you know? We went over this.”

He chuckled and flicked a few locks of his hairs out of his face. “Sorry, force of habit. Anyway, may I see the tie?”

“Nope, after dinner. If our food is coming out soon, I don’t want any uni or spicy mayo on it even if it’s just a sample.”

Namjoon didn’t protest. He humbly agreed to your decision and his politeness was something that bothered you since the two of you were in high school. Both Seokjin and Namjoon were childhood friends to you and Hoseok because your fathers were friends since college. Growing up as kids, it was natural to fight and play all the time but he changed when Namjoon turned sixteen. The both of you were just months apart in age and you always wondered why he stopped picking on you or gave you any sort of attitude. He later explained to you that it was because of how he was raised to act more proper as he got older and you thought that if you prodded at him a little while going through the motions of your high school years then maybe he would feel comfortable in acting more like a friend than a robot. It did make a small change in him, but he always still reverted back to his usual attitude.

You spoke to Namjoon about your brother’s wedding as he was one of Hoseok’s groomsmen and you expressed the stress you were dealing with because although your main worry was being a designer for the wedding, you were also working side by side with the wedding planner. This gave you a lot more work than you actually planned, but it was going to be rewarding at the end.

“Seokjin said he’s willing to do the catering or cooking for the wedding. It’s the least he could do.” Namjoon poured you another cup of tea.

“That’s so sweet. I’ll be sure to pass down the message to Hoseok. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

“Well, how about you? Anymore creepy guys your parents have lined up for you?”

You laughed knowing that Namjoon wasn’t trying to insult you or anything. This was him being comfortable around you. It was a rare sight to witness so you soaked up the moment whenever it presented itself.

“Ugh, no. I absolutely don’t have enough time for that, but I have a feeling that when my parents get back, they’re going to give me a phone number of someone they met during the fashion show or some big meeting.” You scoffed.

Namjoon chuckled as he signed the receipt, paying for the meal. “Most girls would be excited for marriage and spending the rest of their lives with the one they love.”

“Yeah, but I’m not most girls, Mr. Kim.”

“I know that far too well.” Namjoon raised his cup and clinked it against yours. “Ah, y/n, the tie.”

You tanked your tea, completely forgetting how hot it was, and reached into your purse. Even if the tie was a prototype, you were still nervous showcasing it to Namjoon. You spent a lot of time being nitpicky about the design—it was a damn tie, but it had to be the perfect tie.

“Allow me.” You gestured.

Namjoon adjusted himself to bring his legs out from underneath the table to you had enough room to maneuver your arms. You stood right in between his knees as you delicately wrapped the silk underneath the collar of his shirt and tied it just right then tucked it behind his vest.

“Well, well, sir. You’re looking quite dapper.” You complimented.

Namjoon smiled then looked down at his chest. “Thank you. May I see it properly?”

You gave him room to stand before taking a head-to-toe photo of him on your phone. He examined the photo and hummed contentedly.

“You’re sure this is just a sample?” He questioned.

You laughed and straightened out the fabric against his chest. “I’m sure. I still have to finalize the fabric. This particular fabric is no good for long term use and I want all of the groomsmen and my brother to use it normally rather than just for the wedding.”

Thank goodness the design looked decent on the chosen colors and thank goodness Namjoon was always available to be one of your male dress up dolls. You stepped back to take one more look at him and nodded your head.

“How about you keep this tie for keepsakes, Joon? I’m changing my label once I get all of the ties and dresses finalized, so this is the only item in the world with this label.” You plucked the tie out and pointed at a small cotton tag that had “Yours.” embroidered in cursive. “I was thinking of changing out the cursive to a typewriter kind of font and making the base color black instead of white.”

Namjoon touched the silk and thumbed the tiny tag that you pointed out. “Thank you. I’ll gladly accept this. I’ll be sure to return the favor.”

He flashed you a warm grin that made you wish you could take a picture of. This expression was rare and just like a lot of his less serious emotions, you soaked it all in. 

“There’s no need, Joonie. We haven’t seen each other in a while, so I guess it’s also an apology for being so busy.” You brushed off his shoulders and straightened out his tie once more.

“I also apologize. I guess work and school keeps getting in the way.” Namjoon stroked your hair. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

↠↞

“Let’s have dinner again soon, okay?”

Namjoon opened your car door and gave you a tight hug before helping you settle inside.

“Of course. I’ll text you when I’m free. We can go to the steakhouse in the hills.” He shut your door and waited for you to roll down your window. “Drive safe.”

Just like that, you drove out of the parking lot and Namjoon let out a long sigh.

I guess that’s two dinners I have to fit into my schedule at some point.

The drive home felt a lot shorter than usual and it made him wish he took the long way home because it meant being away from any work related duties. He wanted the world to stop for a second to take a breather. It seemed like no matter what, he couldn’t escape the grimy clutches of work. Even during his dinner with you, the conversation ended up leading towards his floor plans of his music store. A break seemed like a dream that he couldn’t grasp with his own fingers.

Pulling into the driveway, there was a plain black sedan parked out front and it only meant one thing.

“Ah, Namjoon. Welcome home. Join us for tea.”

Sitting in the living room was Irene, Seokjin, and none other than their father.

“Good evening. I apologize, I already had some during dinner. Please excuse me.” 

He quickly said his greetings to a few of the housemaids that were on his way to his room and flopped down onto his bed once he reached his destination.

Floor plans, item arrangements, item shipments, mock proposal for business, notes for economics, dinner with yoongi and y/n.

Namjoon’s hands flew to his face. He could already hear his mother’s voice nagging at him to take a vacation somewhere. Oh, how he wished he could erase his schedule at the snap of his fingers, but that only existed in a realm inside his mind.

He sat up and strode across his room to take a look at himself in the mirror. If it wasn’t for Irene’s holy grail skincare recommendations he would be looking like a 50 year old man. His eyes traveled to the tie you gifted him and again, he let out a sigh.

Your schedule and hardships weren’t a secret to Namjoon. You usually vented to him about everything that’s anything and even with the weight of the world on your shoulders, you still managed to smile. Your personality was completely different from his and he was a bit envious. While he moped around and kept to himself most of the time, you usually walked with a pep in your step and smiled as if you just won the lottery. It was appalling how you could easily make the decision to drop whatever you were doing to take a spontaneous two hour drive and have coffee at a random coffee shop. 

Your personality clashed with his in a positive way. You encouraged him to put himself first and you always made time to have dinner with him whenever you had the chance because it meant distracting him from work. Taking personal breaks was barely ever an option, but he always agreed whenever you asked for his company. This was why his friendship with you was incredibly important. He appreciated you to the highest degree. You made him feel human. 

Three knocks were heard from his door. “It’s open.”

“Namjoon, I’m taking my leave.”

Namjoon turned and made eye contact with his father. There wasn’t any bad blood between them, but there was always something in the air whenever Namjoon was alone with him. It’s been that way since his mother passed away so it was pretty much normal.

“Okay. Drive safe, father.”

His father stood there for a few seconds and took a step to leave, but turned back. “Did you have dinner with a client?”

“No, I was with y/n.” Namjoon answered.

“Oh, y/n.” His father nodded his head slowly. “Are her parents back from their trip?”

“She mentioned that they were taking a detour to New York after Milan, so they’re probably going to be back next week Thursday or Friday.”

Again, his father nodded his head and drummed his fingers along the door frame.

“Alright, don’t forget your meeting with Mr. Choi at your chosen location after your classes tomorrow. Good night.”

Namjoon slumped his shoulders forward and ran a hand through his hair after his father closed his door. Another thing was added to his to-do list.

“Good night, father.” 

It was never going to end, was it?

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♡ rae jagi

[illyrianwingspans]

Do Not Go Gentle: My Body is a Cage

Link to song

Synopsis: In which Feyre confronts Tamlin about said pills found in her coffee shop.

Ao3 Link

TW: Domestic abuse, domestic violence. Please read with caution.

Chapter 4: My Body is a Cage

Pills. I tore open more boxes, and all I was met with was pills.

The four walls seemed to close in on me. How could this be happening? Why were there drugs all over my storage room?

More importantly, why the fuck was my fiancée involved in a drug deal?

I stared at the piles and piles of tiny plastic wrappers and the contents they held. Oh Gods, we were in such deep, unending shit.

The bell to the shop rang, and I wiped my hands on my apron. There was no way I could get through the rest of this day without speaking to Tamlin first. I needed to close the shop, to call Tamlin right now—

“Feyre?”

The voice had my head snapping up to meet the dark, deep blue eyes. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at Rhysand before me, concern lining his face. He was once again wearing an immaculate suit, though the same cocky, smug swagger that usually oozed from him seemed to be absent today.

“Are you alright?” He asked more quietly this time.

“Alright?” I scoffed. The laugh that rang out throughout the shop was mad and mirthless. “I am losing my fucking mind, Rhysand. But you might be able to help. You’re involved with this whole Hybern mess, right?”

Rhysand’s eyes widened. “He told you?”

“No,” I shook my head, a sneering smile on my face, “I just walked out back and found my coffee supply filled with fucking drugs. But that’s ‘nothing to worry about’, right?” When he said nothing I repeated more forcefully, “Right?”

“Feyre,” he murmured.

“No, don’t,” I held my hand up to quiet him, then supported myself by leaning against the counter. The ground beneath me felt like it was shaking. Everything was collapsing in on me, everything was falling apart—

“Feyre you’ve got to breathe. In and out. Feyre, look at me.”

I didn’t realize I wasn’t breathing until my free hand was clutching my chest and tears were streaming down my face. Rhysand shook his head then swiftly strode over to me from the side entrance on the counter. Before I knew it, both of his hands were on my arms and I was sobbing through my teeth, wondering how the hell my life had come to this, sobbing in the middle of my place of work because I’d found my boyfriend’s company’s stack of drugs in the storage room.

After a while though, the tears stopped flowing. The ache in my chest began to ease, and I could breathe again.

“Close the shop,” Rhysand said lowly, “and I’ll call Tamlin to let him know we’re coming up right now.”

“No, you shouldn’t be involved in this. He hates you.”

Rhysand laughed as he guided me from out behind the counter. The warmth at my side was steadying, the pressure on my arm a grounding force that kept me focused. “I know he hates me. But I’m his security detail, and you knowing about all of this is a breach of security, which means whether Tammy likes it or not, I’m involved.”

People in the lobby stared at me but I didn’t care. Even as I looked down at myself and realized that I was still wearing my barista apron.

“Don’t worry, they’re not looking at you, darling,” Rhysand murmured in my ear.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because they’re staring at me. The CEO of Night Industries who owns half the city.”

A sniped comment sat on the tip of my tongue, but the energy to release it had been drained the moment I laid eyes on the contents of that box.

The receptionist waved us through to the elevator without batting an eye. Rhysand tipped his head to her, but all I could do was try to pay attention to Rhysand’s voice and put one foot in front of the other. “Then what the hell are you doing working security detail for Spring Corp?”

The smile he flashed was a fake, dazzling one that showed all of his white, straight teeth. “That’s the question of the hour, isn’t darling?”

The elevator doors closed behind us, and Rhysand let go of me. I felt cold without his presence next to me.

For the first time since I’d met him, the man stayed silent for more than thirty seconds. I was grateful for the quiet, because all my mind could focus on were those pills.

“Feyre?”

Rhysand’s hand was extended towards me, and I realized I was still standing in the elevator despite the fact that we’d arrived at the executive floor and the doors were open.

I didn’t take his hand. Instead, my feet stomped on the wood floors. Ianthe protested, but I didn’t give a shit as I pulled open the heavy oak doors and meandered my way into Tamlin’s office.

The sunlight was glaring through the floor to ceiling windows. They extended panoramically for an incredible view of the city. All around, there were plants and flowers blooming in vases and large, clay pots. They gave life to the space. Tamlin said they calmed him; and I felt their reassuring qualities as soon as I saw them.

I remembered the first time Tamlin had brought me up here shortly after we first met. All I’d felt then was awe and marvel and wonder in the arms of the man that I’d fallen hard for.

But now as I stared at that same man before me, all I felt was anger. Ugly, writhing, untamed anger.

“Feyre?” Tamlin looked up from the documents lining his desk. I wondered which ones were for his illegal activities. Did they have a special filing cabinet all to themselves? Tucked in perfectly normally with all the rest?

“Why aren’t you in the shop?” He tried once more, gentler this time. His eyes snapped to something behind me, and the heavy footsteps told me that it was Rhysand who must’ve walked in behind me.

“Tell me why I just found drugs in the storage room.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Tamlin’s gaze slid back to mine. He was good: his eyes didn’t widen, his face remained impassive. “What are you talking about?”

“Tell me why,” I growled louder this time, “I just found boxes full of fucking pills in the coffee boxes!” I tore the sockets from my pocket and threw them at his chest. The black pills fell to the floor in a heap, and the their impact against the wood was the only sound throughout the entire office.

For a moment, his lips parted, and there was panic in his eyes. Only he moved past me completely and went straight to Rhysand. “What the hell did your guys do?”

“They weren’t my guys. You told me to let your guys handle the loading after the last shipment. It was Bron and Hart who took over yesterday’s units.”

“Then why are the units still there?!” Bellowed Tamlin. The sound made me flinch instinctively.

Rhysand snorted. “Probably because Bron and Hart can’t tell their left from their right. Good luck explaining to Hybern why his latest shipment is full of coffee beans, Tammy.” With that Rhysand clapped him amicably on the back then sat on the lounge chair in the seating area, as though this were just a normal conversation about normal things and not criminal offences.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Your fiancée’s pushing drugs, Feyre. Honestly, I don’t know how you haven’t found out sooner.”

“Rhysand, will you please shut the fuck up for once in your miserable life?” Tamlin yelled. All Rhysand did was send him his most cocky smirk he could muster.

“Is it true?” I asked Tamlin. With each step he took towards me, I took one step back. “Is this all true?”

Tamlin sighed. “Feyre, please. You have to listen to me.”

“No,” I shook my head, ready to turn and leave. “Not anymore. I’m done. I’m done.”

“Feyre, please,” he pleaded. His hands wrapped around mine and he turned me around. There was concern and fear lining his eyes, and for once I couldn’t care less.

“Rhysand, get out of here.”

Silence. Then, “Out. Now.”

I heard a sigh then footsteps trailing to the door. As soon as it closed, I was on him.

“You lied to me! You lied straight to my face, Tamlin!”

“I did no such thing!” He shouted back.

“I asked you if there was a reason that I would need protection, and you said no.”

“Because you don’t. You are protected at all times Feyre, and there is absolutely no threat against your life.”

“There are drug dealers coming in and out of the storage room twice a week!” I shrieked. How couldn’t he see reason? How couldn’t he see how wrong this all was? “Hell, I am staring at one right now!���

“I’m not a drug dealer, Fey,” he murmured quietly. “Now stop accusing me and just let me explain.”

Everything told me that this was wrong. That I should be running. If I was smart, I’d run, and try to make something of the little life I had without him. But I couldn’t.

There was good in Tamlin. He was a good man, and he loved me. That, in this world of lies and uncertainty, was the only thing I was sure of.

So I sighed and made my way to the chaise lounge that Rhysand had been sitting on only minutes ago and said quietly, “Explain.”

He didn’t waste anytime. “The company was going through financial difficulty after the stock dropped. We were running late on a few payments, other clients were dropping us left and right, and we owed a lot of people a lot of money. Hybern came to me and offered some help.”

“By selling drugs,” I said emphatically once more.

“No, by shipping drugs. I’m just a paper-pusher, and it’s short-term anyways.” He sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “It’s awful. I know it’s awful, and you don’t need to tell me over and over that it’s illegal. I know what it is. But I also know what I’m doing, and at this point I’m willing to try anything to help this company get back to where it should be. To help my family legacy.” He sat beside me, and arm tentatively reaching out to touch my shoulder. “To help us.”

“How could you not tell me this?” I asked. There was a part of me that understood where he was coming from. That part told me to just drop all of this, let it pass—like he said, it was short-term. It would be over before it even started. But the rational, reasonable part of me was still balking amidst all of this.

“Because I didn’t want to worry you, Feyre. Seeing you like this drives me crazy.”

I pushed off the ivy velvet chaise lounge and stalked over to the window. Down below nearly eighty storeys people milled about, living their ordinary lives, unaware of the upheaval in the state of my world right now. It always baffled me, the fact that our own lives seem so big and catastrophic when there were billions of others out there living their own big and catastrophic lives as well.

If any of this was going to work, if I truly wanted to make this relationship work, I needed information. I needed something from his part.

“I want in. I want to know what’s going on, which means you will answer all of my questions, and I want updates whenever something happens regarding this whole situation.”

He sighed, and wandered over to where I stood gazing across the city. “Feyre, I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”

“Then marry someone who’ll put up with this,” I snapped.

The air seemed crisper as Tamlin tilted his head slightly to the side, and the fury began to pulse in the veins on his forehead. “Do you not want to marry me?”

When I looked at him, my eyes filled with tears, as though the brunt of everything that happened had finally truly hit me. “Tamlin, I—“ I hiccupped on a sob. “I’ve been drowning. For months, I feel like I’ve been drowning. And this, all of it, the secrets and this weight that’s on my shoulders—it’s like I’m drowning. And you’re right there, shoving my head under.”

One moment, we were fine. One moment life was perfectly big and catastrophic.

The next, it was small. And pathetic. And fragile. As he took both of my wrists, held them above my head and slammed me into the window, I felt like I was already dead.

Looking down at the street that seemed miles and miles below us, I thought I was going to die.

But Tamlin let go and collapsed into tears. I crumpled to the ground in a heap of sobs.

There were so many ‘Sorry’s, so many ‘I love you’s, but I just kept disappearing with each one.

+

“What happened?”

“None of your goddamn business.”

Rhysand chased me to the elevator doors, hot on my heels, and demanded once more, “Feyre. Talk to me.”

“Not now, Rhysand.”

We stood there for a moment, staring each other down, until he asked, “Are you alright?”

I didn’t have the energy to answer. I only shook my head.

He looked over his shoulder before stepping in closer to me and saying quietly, “I’ll come by the shop monday Feyre, if you have any questions. Would you like that?”

My face burned with shame. I didn’t know why—there was nothing that I should be ashamed of or guilty for. But being caught in this situation, being tossed aside while the person I was about to marry made such brash decisions—I felt like a child.

So I only nodded my head and entered the elevator without looking back.

+

“One more round. Twenty one-two punches as a finisher.”

I nodded my head, despite the fact that my entire body felt leaden. Any minute I was probably going to pass out on the ground, but this is what I needed. Right now, my mind was here: with each punch, with each clench of my muscles, I was right here and not in the turbulent world of drugs and business and money.

“Feyre?”

“Hm?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Cassian lowered the sparring pads and I protested. He pointed to my water bottle, and I sighed before taking my gloves off and reaching for another swig. Like every session, I was drenched in sweat, and my legs were shaking as I squatted over to shove a few lungfuls of air into my body.

“You can take your sweatshirt off, you know. It’s a gym. Women workout in sports bras all the time.”

“Are you asking to see my boobs, Cassian?” I panted.

He rolled his eyes. “No. I just don’t want my boxing ring to turn into a slip ’n slide because of your sweat.”

I flashed him a vulgar gesture. “I’m fine.”

“Feyre, come on,” he said seriously, “you’ve got a t-shirt under. I just don’t want you passing out. I’m serious.”

“I’m fine,” I said once more. “Last round.” The gloves were soaked with sweat as I slid them back on, and Cassian let out another frustrated sigh but held up the pads nonetheless.

Every ounce of my remaining strength was poured into the punches. Despite the fact that my life was practically falling apart, my fiancee was involved in dealing drugs and my place of work was the front of said drug operation, at least I could really punch the shit out of something every once in a while and feel like a human for a few seconds. At least, for a few seconds, I wasn’t Feyre Archeron, the fraud, the murderer, the liar and deceiver—

“Done,” Cassian announced, and I slumped over. My shirt was damn near drenched in sweat. Both of us knew that I smelled disgusting, but thank the Gods Cassian for once kept his comments to himself. Right now, I could barely tolerate the bantering anymore. I barely had the energy for living, let alone wit.

With every session, we stretched on the floor, and the release in my muscles was sweet enough to make the workout worth it. Since things had gotten heated at work, Tamlin usually went into the office on weekends in the morning. He hadn’t had a full day off in at least two weeks, and I could tell it was beginning to wear on him—yesterday in the office proved that it was wearing on him. Which meant sneaking around wasn’t at all difficult anymore. I didn’t even have to pretend to be carrying dry-cleaning to Alis this morning.

And there was some improvement, with the boxing. Even though each week felt like I was growing more tired, more weak—my energy here in the ring begged to differ.

Cassian said as much. “You’re seriously improving, Feyre. But now that you’re training harder you’ve got to keep up with your calorie intake as well.”

“I eat,” I countered, which was true. Most of the time I ate two dense meals a day. Three if I was up to it, but two at least.

“Not saying you don’t,” Cassian hedged carefully, “just trying to help out.”

“Well, I’m fine,” I sighed.

Only he replied, “You say that a lot, Feyre. People say those two words a lot, and that--more than anything--is a tell-tale sign that they’re lying. So what’s going on?”

Two breaths. In, and out. Then I was up, pushing off the ground, weaving through the ring’s ropes. I called, “See you next weekend.”

Cassian tried to protest, but I pushed through the swinging doors of the women’s locker room.

The truth was, I didn’t own any long-sleeve workout shirts.

And the truth was, after what happened yesterday, there were bruises up and down my wrists.

I kept telling myself that Tamlin hadn’t meant it, but there was such…indignation in his eyes. An image I would never forget, a feeling I would never forget as I felt the ground slip out under me eighty storeys up in the sky.

He’d kissed every part of my body for forgiveness. I told him over and over that it was okay, that I forgave him. But the lies tasted so bitter on my tongue I nearly choked as they escaped my mouth.

Tears blurred my vision as I changed back into my regular clothes and tightened my messenger bag over my shoulder. They fell onto my cheeks as I waded down the street away from Wind Avenue Gym and back to my apartment where I’d spend the rest of the day reliving the same cycle over and over and over again until I was dead, or finally decided that I wanted something more than this

At this point, I thought, death was probably the more likely option.

[jedifighterpilot2727]

The Rook Chapter 3

Alright, y'all, here it is! The grand finale!! (Though there may be an epilogue!)

I hope you enjoy!! (btw, comments and asks are my absolute life!)

The song for this is 'i hate u, i love u' by gnash ft. Olivia O'brien 

Oh, by the way, I sobbed writing this, so tissues are recommended.

        I Hate You (But I Love You)

She wakes on her office couch, the now empty bottle of Scotch beside her reminding her that her pounding head is her own fault. She refuses to open her eyes, even though the curtains are drawn and the room should be mostly dark.

She just wants to not think, about Kara, about Supergirl, about how stupid she was for not realizing that the woman she was in love with was hiding  a whole identity from her.

So, she lays there, pondering how long she can put off getting up before someone interrupts her relative peace.

Turns out the answer is about five minutes before the door to her office swings open.

“Come on, up and at ‘em. Early bird gets the worm, yada yada yada.”

“Ugh, Jess, no.” Even behind her closed eyelids, she can tell when Jess flips the light on and she groans, throwing her arm over her eyes.

“Nope, none of that! Come on, busy day ahead.”

Lena groans again but complies, shifting into a sitting position and blinking until her eyes adjust enough that she can see the aspirin and bottle of gatorade that Jess is holding out for her. She takes them gratefully, swallowing the pills and following them with a long, slow sip of the neon colored drink.

“Gotta say, boss, the drunk on a work night look does not work on you.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good, cause we have a lot to do today.” She thrusts a small bag in Lena’s direction. “Here are some toiletries, there’s a dress that just came from back from dry cleaning in your closet, oh and be sure to wear some sunglasses to cover those bags under your eyes - I called the press so there’s going to be photographers.”

Lena looks up, pressing the cool bottle of gatorade to her forehead.

“Photographers? For what?”

“Oh, right, sorry, the plane for Metropolis leaves in . . . “ Jess checks her watch. “Two hours.”

“Metropolis? I’m not going to Metropolis!”

“Yes, you are, in two hours; so chop chop.”

“Jess, what are you doing?”

Much to her surprise, her assistant kneels down so she's at eye level.

“Look, Lena, you pay me a lot of money to know . . . well, everything. And we may not exactly be friends, but I care about you, and for the past few weeks you’ve been really . . . not yourself. And I’m not going to mention any names, but we both know why. You need some space, and you’re going to get it. For a month. In Metropolis.”

“A month?!”

“And, speaking of she who shall not be named, there’s quite a list of things that you’ve been meaning to do in Metropolis that you’ve been putting off because you didn’t want to leave her. Now is the perfect time to tie up all those loose ends. Plus, my mom has been begging me to come visit, so it works out great. Three birds, one stone.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Of course, dummy, who else is going to keep you straight!” Jess frowns. “Well, not straight, cause you like the ladies, but you know what I mean. Now come on, we gotta go.”

Jess turns for the door, and Lena watches her, stunned for a moment before calling out.

“Hey, Jess?” she waits for Jess to look back at her before continuing. “Thanks.”

“No problem, boss. Oh, and you might wanna put your hair in a bun today, it looks kinda -“ She trails off, her hands making some sort of jazz hands gesture around her head that makes Lena laugh.

“Yeah, of course. Oh and Jess? Can you make sure the plane has some hashbrowns for the ride? Preferably smothered in gravy."

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Long story short, Jess is a genius.

For starters, the photos of Lena leaving her office and getting into the SUV for the airport are stunning. She looks hot, by any standard, regardless of the fact that the sunglasses covering her face are hiding blood shot eyes and there’s a gatorade and saltine crackers tucked into her purse. All that matters is that her wine colored dress has a plunging neckline and her matching lipstick is one of Kara’s favorite shades.

It doesn’t matter that she almost breaks down on the short ride to the airport, because the Page Six spread makes her look like she’s fine.

It’s a sort of evil satisfaction, knowing that Kara will see the photos and wonder why she’s so put together.

She only wishes she really was that put together, and that her heart didn’t feel like it was shattering into a million pieces as she watches National City fade from view out the plane window.

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Metropolis is . . . refreshing.

She doesn’t see Kara in her mind’s eye every time she walks down the street or steps into a restaurant. Everywhere isn’t tainted with the memory of the best friend she thought she knew like National City is. After a few days, she can actually breathe, she can actually exist for longer than an hour without thinking of Kara’s smile.

She works pretty much from the time her eyes open until the time she falls asleep; but the exhaustion is welcome. Jess was right, she did have a lot of things to take care of in Metropolis, which is why she’s surprised when Jess leaves a break in her schedule on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Jess?” She calls over the intercom. “What am I doing from 3-4?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to pencil it in. You have an appointment with Dr. Fowler.”

Lena frowns.

“A doctor’s appointment? It’s not time for my yearly.”

“Dr. Fowler is a psychiatrist.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, I scheduled you an appointment with her, thought it might help with your . . .  girl problems.”

“Jess, I don’t need a psychiatrist.”

“Ok, boss, noted. but it’s already booked and paid for, so you might as well go this first time.”

Unfortunately, Lena can’t find the logic to argue with her.

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She sits on the comfortable chair in Dr. Fowler’s office, staring down the woman across from her.

She seems, nice, for a psychiatrist.

Her shoulder length brown hair is tucked behind her ears, and her gray suit is non-threatening. She has a kind face, Lena thinks, unable to think of anything negative. Still, she refuses to cave, and fixes her eyes on the clock above Dr. Fowler’s head.

“My assistant made me this appointment.” She says for explanation. “I don’t really need therapy, so I’m sorry to waste your time.”

“I don’t mind.” Dr, Fowler smiles. “We can always just talk. No therapy needed. Are you from Metropolis?”

Lena debates answering her, but common manners win out.

“Well, mother was from Ireland, originally, but that’s . . . “

“A story for a therapist.” Dr. Fowler guesses, and Lena nods.

“That’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it. What brings you to Metropolis? Business? Pleasure?”

“Business.” Lena answers immediately, but guilt creeps up her spine, and she adjusts her answer. “Well, sort of. I live in National City, but . . . well, my assistant thought I could use a break from some people there so she scheduled me some time away. L-Corp has offices in both cities, so it’s convenient.”

“Ah, L-Corp. I remember when you opened up a branch in National City. I thought you were just supposed to stay there for a few months to make sure that everything was going smoothly, what made you change your mind?”

Lena hesitates, unwilling to share more than she has to, but still, she is paying for this; she might as well see what crazy advice this sham has to offer.

“I met someone.” She explains. “A friend.”

“A friend?”

“Well, sort of.”

“Sort of? Do I sense gay drama?” Dr. Fowler’s eyes sparkle, and Lena’s gaze catches on a picture of Dr. Fowler with her arm around another woman, a yellow lab sitting in front of them.

Of course Jess would do her research.

“She’s like . . . sunshine personified.” Lena offers as explanation. “Or at least, she was. Now, I don’t know what she is.”

Dr. Fowler shifts in her chair.

“What’s changed?”

“She . . .” Lena hesitates, reluctant to rehash her heart break. “She lied; about who she is. It turns out that she has this whole other persona that she just . . . hid from me. And you know what the worst part is?” She laughs mirthlessly. “I was friends with the other persona! and she just lied to me! Over and over again! Like I’m some kind of fool! Because I’m the idiot who can’t figure out that Kara Danvers is Supergirl!”

Her eyes flash to Dr. Fowler at her accidental revelation, but the other woman just smiles.

“Everything you say here is confidential. The secret is safe with me.”

Lena nods softly, but it seems that once the dam is broken the flow of her words can’t be stopped.

“She lied to me. For three years! I had to learn the truth from my dying brother! And then when she finally got the guts to tell me, do you know what she said?”

Dr. Fowler shakes her head.

“She said she loved me. That she wanted us to be together. Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?!”

“For three years?” Dr. Fowler offers, and Lena chokes back a sob.

“I’ve been in love with her for so long! And she was just oblivious. I guess like I was oblivious about her being Supergirl. But then she just tells me that she loves me. In the same conversation that she tells me the truth.”

“I’m sure that must have been devastating.” Dr. Fowler comments quietly, and Lena sets her jaw.

“I don’t know how I feel about her anymore. I don’t know if I can trust her.”

“That’s fair, you deserve to feel that way.”

Something in Lena settles at that. Up until now, she’s been berating herself for her anger. Like she was wrong for thinking bad of the great Supergirl. But now, she feels validated.

“I bought a whole company for her, you know. . . “

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The rest of her session with Dr. Fowler is cathartic, if only because she can finally air out feelings without fear of judgment, with someone who gives her constructive feedback.

On her way out, she checks in with the receptionist.

“Jess scheduled you for two sessions a week, your next appointment is Thursday at 2. Is that okay?”'

Lena can’t help but roll her eyes. She definitely owes Jess another raise.

“Sounds perfect.”

* - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s surprisingly hard for her to fall into her post Kara routine. More often than not, she finds herself looking for her best friend in her downtime.

Kara’s presence has become a staple in her life, and she can’t help but mourn the loss.

Even though she knows whatever dream she had of them is lost.

It’s infuriating.

The one time she gets attached to someone,  it backfires.

Dr. Fowler says that she has ‘abandonment issues’, but she doesn’t feel abandoned, just. . . lost.

Kara Danvers was her reason for existing for so long. The drive behind every decision she made.

She just wanted Kara to be happy, but it turns out that Kara is a completely different person than she thought.

Dr. Fowler challenges her, asks her how she feels about Supergirl, separate from Kara.

And honestly, she doesn’t know.

At first she felt like she had to like Supergirl, if only to combat her brother’s dangerous rhetoric with Superman.

But then . . . Supergirl was nice, and good, and she saved Lena’s life on numerous occasions.

Not to mention she was the most beautiful woman Lena had ever seen, minus Kara, of course.

Kara with her glasses and dorky blunders.

Though she supposes, now that she thinks about it, that those blunders come from less of a place of awkwardness and more from the place of an alien being unsure of earth customs. She finds it endearing, in a way that makes her uncomfortable, and Dr. Fowler smiles softly before letting the subject drop.

The good thing about being in Metropolis is that she doesn’t hear a single news story about Supergirl.

Superman, maybe, but Supergirl is noticeably absent.

It’s refreshing.

So it shocks her even more when she gets a surprise visitor.

“Ms. Luthor, I’m sorry, I tried to stop her, but she’s got a badge, and a gun, and I wasn’t sure if -“

Lena’s eyes settle on none other than Alex Danvers.

“It’s fine, Jess, don’t worry about it. “

Jess looks between them for a long moment before she heads back to her desk.

“Alex.” Lena says once Jess is through the door.

“Lena. Kara told me you know her secret.”

“Ahh, are you here to mock me?”

“Mock you?” Alex brow crinkles in a way that’s so much like Kara it almost hurts. “I’m not here to mock you, I’m here to see if you needed a friend. I know I’m not as close as you and Kara, but I thought I’d at least offer my support.”

“Support?”

Alex sighs heavily.

“Look, ever since I was 14, protecting Kara’s secret identity has been my main goal. My parents entrusted me with it, and . . .  I never really got over it.”

“She never lied to you about her secret identity though.” Lena scoffs.

“No.” Alex concedes. “But I lied to her about mine.”

Lena’s head snaps up, eyeing Alex like she’s the last oracle.

"For four years, I lied to her about my job. I told her I was involved in biomedical engineering, that I was a sales rep for some company when really I worked for the DEO.”

“The Department of Extranormal Operations.” Lena clarifies.

“Exactly, and I didn’t even tell her what I was doing, because I wanted to protect her.”

“That’s still not -“

“I shot her down,” Alex continues. “I shot her down with Kryptonite arrows. Because I didn’t trust anyone else to make the shot. I shot my own sister with the one thing that hurts her, when she thought I was a sales rep.”

“What’s your point, Alex?”

“My point is that sometimes we lie to the people we love because we think it will protect them, even if it ends up hurting them in the end.”

“So you side with her then.” Lena concludes.

“No, I don’t, I . . . look, as Supergirl’s protector, I’m glad she waited to tell you, because the less people who know, the better, it’s not even because you’re a Luthor, it’s just common sense. But as your friend. . . she was wrong not to tell you, and you deserved to know the truth. It’s not always black and white, sometimes good intentions make for bad actualities. I can understand why Kara didn’t tell you, and I can also understand why you’re upset. I’m just saying, sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to, sometimes we lie to the people we love and sometimes we think we know what’s best for them, even when we don't.

“But no matter what happens between you and my sister, just know that you’re still my friend, and I still support you. I know we’re not as close as you and Kara, but I’m here for you; if you need me. “

“You’re here for me?” Lena asks incredulously.

“I’m am, and I’m sorry you got the raw end of the stick. If it were anyone but Kara, I’d go beat her up for you. In fact, I have a red sun room for training, I still can if you really want me to.”

Lena’s voice breaks in a sob, and Alex stares at her strangely.

“Oh god, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do with criers, please don’t.” she holds out her arms and Lena collapses into them. “Do you want a hug? Will a hug help? I can do a hug.” She whispers as rock solid arms close around Lena.

Are both of the Danvers sisters jacked?

“Did you really shoot Kara down with Kryptonite arrows?” Lena hiccups.

“Yeah, I did. One of the biggest regrets of my life. Just like I’m sure not telling you the truth is one of Kara’s.”

“You’re her sister, you’re supposed to say that.”

“Look, maybe I am. But I don’t have to say this - stay mad for a while, she deserves it. But I hope to see you around soon, game night just isn’t the same without you.”

Lena wants to say more, but she doesn’t, letting Alex pull away.

“I couldn’t tell you the truth, because I’ve been protecting Kara since she was 13 years old. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve to know the truth.”

“Easy for you to say. You were in on the secret.”

“I was.” Alex concedes. “And now you are too, what are you going to do with it?”

Lena doesn’t answer, and Alex backs away.

“I have to get back to National City, but call me when you come home, ok?”

Lena nods, even though she’s unsure of the details of her returning to National City.

She feels the warmth of Alex’s hug long after the other woman is gone.

* - - — - - - - - - - -

She stays in Metropolis for a month and a half, a fact she’s sure Jess and Dr. Fowler are conspiring together towards.

She can’t deny that she feels exceptionally better on the plane ride to National City than she did on her trip to Metropolis.

She hates to admit it, but therapy really has helped her, and she has Dr. Fowler’s number stored in her phone and ready for face time sessions.

She doesn’t exactly forgive Kara, but she maybe understands where she was coming from - even if she doesn’t agree with it.

Still, she doesn’t expect what she finds when she comes back to National City.

Supergirl is no where to be found.

According to all reports that she can find, Supergirl disappeared two weeks after she did. It makes sense, she supposes, but what she doesn’t understand is where Kara is now.

Lena's back now, so where is Supergirl?

She tempted to text Kara and ask, but she holds out, unwilling to give in like that. Curiosity isn’t enough to send her crawling back. The anger has faded, but the hurt still lingers. She misses the Kara that she used to know, but she still isn’t sure where she stands now.

A few days after she comes back, she meets Alex for lunch - at a craft beer bar, because Dr. Fowler says it’s important for her be around people who care and she figures Alex is the closest she’s got. But still, she refuses to ask about Kara, and Alex doesn’t offer any information; though she does insist on meeting up again soon.  

Despite the million other things she has to do, one question overtakes her mind.

Where is Kara?

A look at CatCo records reveals that she’s been clocking in to work as scheduled, so maybe the question she should really be asking is ‘where is Supergirl?’

Later, back at her apartment,  she pulls out the switch that Kara sent her and sets it on her coffee table. An hour of staring at it doesn’t give her anymore answers than she had before.

* - - - - - — - - - - -

She finally gets her answer a week later when a school bus is locked up in a battle  with a few aliens. The bus stop is on her walk to get coffee, so she gets an unintentional front row view.

Her mind is racing, trying to think of some way to help in this post-Supergirl world that they're apparently in.  Luckily the DEO vans show up just as she’s debating how weaponize a fire hydrant, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

She breathes an even bigger sigh when Supergirl shows up out of nowhere to join the fight, and all of National City + Lena is enthralled. Especially when she sees Kara’s new suit.

It’s an all blue, skin tight number that Lena definitely hasn’t seen before, and the missing skirt adds to the attractiveness.  

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much to distract Lena from the fight, especially when Kara puts herself in unnecessary danger.

The anger she thought she was over is back, only this time, it’s for Kara.

How dare Supergirl put her friend in danger like that, by fighting that horribly! Her speed is definitely slowed, and some of her movements are jerky and uncoordinated. Frankly, she looks like a prize fighter that took an extended leave of absence and showed up to the championship match without even a warm-up.

Which, Lena supposes, is exactly what happened.

She holds her breath for what feels like hours, refusing to exhale until the hostile alien is deposited with the waiting DEO agents nearby and Kara is safely on the ground.

She knows the exact moment that Kara spots her, shoulders tensing and her forehead crinkling.

Grinding her teeth, she watches as Kara takes a tentative step in her direction.

“Kara."

“Lena, I -"

If Kara had gotten hurt because Supergirl was on some hare-brained, self righteous mission to just jump back into action without even making sure she’s ready, Lena’s going to . . .

Well, she doesn’t really know what she’s going to do.

In fact, she barely realizes she’s made a decision until her fist is halfway to Supergirl’s face.

Bad move.

Stupid brain.

Thankfully, Kara shifts with the punch, but it still feels like she laid a haymaker into a brick wall.

“Shit! Shit! Fuck!” she doubles over, clutching at her hand, but soft fingers pry her hands apart and cold air leaves a frosty mist over her bruised knuckles as Kara uses her freeze breath to soothe the sting.

“Nothing’s broken, thankfully. Damn it, Lena, you really could have hurt yourself, you have to be careful -“

“I have to be careful?! I have to be careful?! I’m not the one who’s going around fighting aliens when it looks like I barely remember how to fly!”

To her surprise, Kara actually looks remorseful.

“I tried, Lena, I tried so hard, not to be Supergirl, but I -“ she gestures at the school bus. “- the kids, Lena, I couldn’t let them die just because -“

Lena interrupts her.

“You tried to stop being Supergirl?” That would certainly explain things, but it’s a concept Lena has a hard time wrapping her head around. “Why?”

Even as she towers over Lena in her cape and boots, Kara still somehow looks so small.

“Because you hate Supergirl, and I didn’t want you to hate me. I thought maybe if I could stop being Supergirl then maybe - well, I don’t know what I thought, but . . .”

Kara continues to speak, but Lena stops listening.

Instead, her eyes settle on something glinting in the sunlight.

A white gold chain around Kara’s neck, the sapphire of the pendant nearly hidden in the blue of her suit.

Suddenly, everything is too much.

Horns are honking, people are talking, and there’s a stupid bird that just won’t SHUT UP. Almost before she can make out what’s happening, Lena finds herself at the brink of a panic attack.

“Kara,” she fights to stay upright, holding up  a hand to stop the flow of the other woman’s words. “Get me out of here.”

“What?”

“Get me out of here, please.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere, please, just - “

Before she can blink, Kara’s scoops her up and they’re flying off. She has no idea where Kara is taking her, but it takes long enough that by the time they touch down, her panic attack is mostly over; Kara’s strong grip and the white noise of the wind working wonders.

They land on a deserted beach, and Lena looks out over the ocean for a long moment, trying to place where they are.

Until Kara clears her throat.

“Umm, should I like . . . put you down? I mean if you want me to hold you that’s fine, you’re really light, I just umm, well I didn’t know if you wanted to -“

“Kara.” she squeezes the shoulder under her hand, bringing the adorable rambling to a stop. “It’s fine, you can put me down, thank you.”

“Right, umm, here.” Kara bends, lowering her arm so that Lena’s feet can reach the ground, and she uses Kara’s for balance before stepping away.

“You know if I would have known it was really Kara Danvers holding me all those times you saved me, I would have enjoyed it a lot more.” Lena says without thinking, and Kara blushes all the way to the tips of her ears.

“Sorry!” she immediately backtracks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it was just awkward, and I thought ‘why not make it more awkward?’”

“No, it’s fine! I mean I like holding you.”

The awkward tension lingers between them for a long moment before Lena breaks it, turning to stare out over the ocean. She waits until Kara steps up beside her to speak.

“Where are we?”

"Somewhere in the Caribbean? I don’t know the exact coordinates, just a little place I found when I was looking for a place to think and look at the stars after you . . . after you left.”

“It’s beautiful.” Lena observes, and she can feel Kara’s eyes studying her profile. After a moment, she turns to look at Kara too, taking in the face she used to know so well.

“You cut your bangs.” she finally says, and Kara blinks at her from beneath the fringe.

“Well, you said you hated my ‘stupid hair’, so . . . “ Kara shrugs, and Lena holds back a smile.

“Is that why you changed your suit too?”

“No!” Kara’s forehead crinkles. “Maybe. Yes. I just didn’t want you to hate me anymore.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You hate Supergirl.” Kara counters.

Lena turns back to the ocean with a sigh.

“A while back, my therapist asked me how I felt about Supergirl, apart from you. And when she asked, I didn’t know what to say, because I wasn’t sure. But I’ve had some time to think about it, and I’ve come to some conclusions.”

She faces Kara before continuing.

“Supergirl is . . . she is kind, and she is good, and she's saved my life on numerous occasions. But she is also self-righteous, and arrogant, and stubborn - almost to the point of being foolhardy on occasion. . . She broke my heart once.”

Lena’s voice cracks, and her eyes fill with tears as Kara’s head drops to look at her boots.

“But she also made the decision to put on that suit and help people - people who don’t always deserve it - at great risk to herself. She could just hide away her powers and be a reporter and spend her Thursday nights playing scrabble with her friends instead of putting out factory fires. And I would love that person, because that person is enough. But instead she chooses to use her powers for good, she puts her life on the line to protect people. And for some reason she has this deeply rooted belief that people are good; even when I know for a fact that she’s seen some of the worst that humanity has to offer.”

“Lena -“

“Let me finish.” she says gently and Kara nods, tears streaking down her face.

“I don’t hate you, Kara. I could never hate you. And it’s taken a lot of therapy, and a lot of long talks with Alex, but . . .” She takes a moment to put her words in order.

“The way I see it, I have two options. I can move to a new city. I can work at a different office in a different state where nothing will be tainted with your memory and I can pretend like Kara Danvers never existed. But I don’t like that option.”

Kara’s face lightens marginally, but her eyes are still wary.

“What’s option two?”

“Option two is that I forgive you, and we start over. This time with no secrets - not about our identities, or our feelings, or our pasts. I want it all out on the table, and I want us to try. And it may not work and it won’t be easy, and I want you to see Dr. Fowler with me. But my heart has been shattered, regardless, and I can either fix it with you or without you, and I want to do it with you; because life is so much better with you in it. Even the bad parts.” The tears spill over now, and she chokes out a sob, Kara’s face crumpling.

“Lena, I am so sorry. And I never in a million years meant to hurt you. You’re my red sun. You make me feel so grounded, and home. And I realize now that I was using you as crutch to deal with this double life I lead, and I thought maybe somehow if I kept you separate then things would be different. But I was so wrong to do that to you. I should have told you the truth years ago, and I promise I will never keep secrets from you again. I will do whatever I have to, to make this work. I’ll go to therapy, I’ll communicate, I’ll literally fly to the moon if I have to.”

“Will you share your potstickers?” Lena can’t help asking, desperate to lighten the mood, if only for a second.

Kara sobs a laugh.

“You can have all the potstickers. I would never eat a potsticker again if it would make you happy. I would do anything you asked of me and not give it a second thought to show you how sorry I am.”

Lena studies her for long moment.

“Would you really give up being Supergirl for me?”

“Lena . . . I don’t think you understand. You’ve made me indestructible. Whatever weakness I still have under this yellow sun, you’ve come up with the technology to fix it. Nothing from earth can hurt me. But that day on the rooftop, when you walked away . . . it was like watching Krypton explode all over again. And there’s some sort of poetic justice about the person who made me indestructible also being the only one who can bring me to my knees. But would I give up Supergirl for you. I think showed today that I’m not very good at giving it up, but I would try again, for you.”

Lena can see the sincerity in her eyes, in the way that her arms are halfway outstretched as if just waiting for an invitation to pull Lena into a hug.

“I would never ask you to give up a part of who you are. In fact the reason that I was so upset when I found out was because you felt like you had to hide it from me in the first place. I want you to be yourself, and Supergirl is part of you; I just need you to share her with me.”

Kara nods slowly.

“I can do that.”

They stand there, staring at each other on the beach, the waves lapping against the shore, and for the first time since Lex told her the truth, Lena feels at peace.

“I know this is kind of awkward but . . . can I have a hug? I really missed your hugs.” Lena shifts awkwardly in the sand, but she shouldn’t have worried, because Kara’s eyes light up and her mouth twists into the soft smile that Lena loves so much.

“Of course, get in here, bring it in.” Kara’s arms widen even further, and she takes a step towards Lena before wrapping her up in a bear hug.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Kara whispers against her hair. “I was afraid that I’d never get you back.”

For a few long minutes, Lena just lets herself breathe, content in the way that Kara’s arms are just slightly too tight around her, her fingers clutching at Kara’s cape.

“It’s kind of weird, hugging you in the suit.” She says, finally breaking the silence.

“I can change?" Kara offers, starting to pull away, but Lena holds her in place.

“No, I wanna get used to it. I can’t limit my hug time to just when you’re not in the suit.”

Kara settles at that, and Lena waits another minute before she pulls away, unable to stop the smile that’s spreading across her face.

As much as it hurts, it’s good to have Kara back.

“So what now?” Kara asks, seemingly nervous in the aftermath of their hug.

“Now we’re going to get dinner. I’m picking,” she clarifies, “and paying, because it’s going to be fancy, and I’m going to make you eat vegetables.”

Kara’s nose scrunches.

“Fancy just means smaller portions.”

“Perks of being a billionaire, I can buy you as much food as you can eat.”

Kara’s nose stays scrunched, but she doesn’t complain further, so Lena continues.

“Then we’re going to talk, we’re going to lay everything out in the open, and we’re going to start this off right.”

“Your place? Or Mine?"

“Yours please, I left my NCU sweatshirt there last time I was over, and I want to get it back.”

“I’m sorry, your NCU sweatshirt?” Kara scoffs.

Lena raises an eyebrow.

“I went to NCU and I’m the one who bought that shirt!”

Lena’s eyebrow gets even closer to her hairline.

“You went to MIT!” Kara insists, and they face off for a moment before Kara finally caves.

“Fine, it’s your sweatshirt. That you sometimes let me borrow when it stops smelling like me and you don’t want to wear it anymore.”

Lena blushes at being caught in her scheme, and Kara grins.

“Ha! I knew it! It was always suspicious when it would randomly show back up.”

The glare Lena gives her is withering, but it does little to shrink Kara’s grin.

“Will you please take me home? Before I decide to add a plate of Brussel sprouts to our order just for you.”

“Geez, I was just joking, you didn’t have to bring Brussel sprouts into this!” Kara says with a laugh before stepping forward.

For the second time that day, Kara bends to scoop Lena up into her arms, but before she can, a thought strikes Lena and she taps Kara on the shoulder.

“Kara, before we go, I just have one more question.”

“Anything.”

“Why are you wearing the necklace?”

“Oh.” Kara’s hand reaches up to grip the pendant between her fingers. "That’s easy, because my best friend gave it to me, and then she disappeared, so this was the best way I had to keep her close.”

And Lena knows that they should probably take this slow, and they still have so much to talk about, but something about those blue eyes makes her lose all self control.

She leans forward, one hand  on Kara’s crest and the other on her cheek, and brings their lips together. She’s imagined kissing Kara more times than she’d like to admit, and she’s envisioned so many different possibilities for how it would be, but reality?

Reality is positively mind blowing.

For a moment, Kara seems stunned, but then she steps into the kiss; arms wrapping around Lena’s back and pulling her in.

It’s the best kiss of Lena’s entire existence, and as Kara’s lips move under hers, she can’t help but think that some things are worth fighting for, no matter the cost. Because not everyone is out to hurt her, and some people really do have good intentions -  at least that’s Dr. Fowler tells her. And maybe, she can start believing it too.

All too soon, Kara’s lips pull away, though her hands stay where they are - inching dangerously close to Lena’s backside.

“So just to clarify -“ Kara starts, and Lena takes a little pleasure in the way her cheeks are flushed and her breath is coming in puffs.

“Are we at the kissing stage now? Or this a one time thing? It’s cool either way, I just don’t want to overstep -“

“Kara Danvers!” Lena cuts her off with a laugh. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Oh, wait, cause while we’re being open and honest -“

Lena’s heart rate spikes.

“- My real name is Kara Zor-El.”

“Zor-El, huh?”

Kara nods, a contented smile on her face.

“It sounds nice when you say it.”

“Well then, Kara Zor-el, shut up and kiss me."

And if she thought kissing Kara the first time was good, the second time?

Even better.

[snake-noodles]

Hidden Away - Chapter 4

TW: Anxiety/paranoia, body horror, bugs (specifically butterflies), feeling of bugs on skin, lots of death talk, arguing, threats of death, guns, gun violence, implied sensory overload, possible manipulation/gaslighting

Words: 5607

Read on AO3

> Welcome back to Lobotomy Corp, THOMAS.

> Important Message from A

> "Thomas,

Do you believe in the existence of soul? I do. I also believe that the soul itself is the reason of one’s existence. Then, is there a perfect soul? I do not think there is. However, one can endlessly get closer to perfection. The process of it is an endless wave of agony. At the end of such effort, I expect that we will be able to make valuations of everything correctly.

We can make things perfect. Even if some people have to die along the way. I trust you feel the same?

But of course you don't. You have emotions to get in the way of your rational thinking. When you're ready to become a real leader, lets eliminate the ones that are keeping us behind.

Keep up the good work, sir. I expect nothing but perfection."

> …

> Delete message?

>YES

> Message discarded.

Logan felt strange. Not in the way he felt yesterday, but something… different. He feels as though he's forgetting something important. But he can't think. His head hurts. Not from any of the abnormalities, either. No he's been doing good with the abnormalities today. But, speaking of such, he hasn't been tasked to talk with Deceit. It's not as if he cares, but he wonders if they assigned a different employee to him. He's not sure why that would happen, though. He's been doing an excellent job, in his opinion.

Perhaps it was because he messed up and let the abnormality affect him like that. That was quite stupid of him. He should know better. Be better. He's been raised to always be his very best. If he can't do that, then what use is he? No, wait, he cannot allow himself to think like this. He's acting like Virgil.

And look where Virgil ended up.

He shakes his head, adjusting his glasses and deciding to save those thoughts for later. Rationalize them later, and not while he's doing very important work. He looks down, pleased that he's been doing so well today, but something itches at the back of his brain. He swears there's something he's forgetting. Whatever it is, it shouldn't be too important if he forgot it, right? He almost never forgets things.

He straightens his tie as he walks down the hallway. He shouldn't waste more time than he already has. And he hates wasting time. Funny how working makes him less stressed and relaxing makes him more stressed.

He'd been going through the same routine all day. Seeing abnormalities and taking notes. He'd seen all on his team today except for one. Talking to them- or at least listening to their nonsense- and gathering energy. But at least he hasn't messed up today. Everything has been going rather nicely.

And then he spots something that makes his heart (figuratively) drop.

"Logan." The colorless AI catches him, staring with his cold emotionless eyes. And next to him was Thomas.

What the hell was Thomas doing here?

There's a nervous pressure in his chest, and he swallows, adjusting his tie and walking up to the two.

"A." He says as a greeting, straightening his posture. "Am I needed for something?"

"Oh, no. Thomas has decided to stay and run this place himself. Why not introduce him to one of our best employees?" He gives a smile that was out of place on him. Seeing the 'emotionless AI' pretend to feel left him with a strange feeling. Logan decided to look at Thomas instead.

"Mr. Sanders. It's a pleasure meeting you in person, sir." He holds out his hand, which Thomas shakes with a smile- before that smile quickly drops. He wonders why, but doesn't voice his question.

A looks between the two, before facing Logan.

"You did a swell job yesterday. Unlike the rest of your foolish team," He straightens Logan's coat, staring him in the eyes, "You're not afraid to get things done… Your team could learn a lot from you."

Logan doesn't miss the way Thomas tenses up. There's alot to be questioned. But, he's a little confused to say the least. He thought yesterday was a failure. What did he do to deserve any praise?

"Thank you, A, though I am confused why I am getting such praise?" He says, and A doesn't respond, simply giving a knowing smile. Logan doesn't understand. Is there something A knows that he doesn't? He never gets an answer to his question, and it takes some effort to not fidget with his tie.

Quickly, the AI pulls away, standing back at Thomas's side in an instant. They shared a look that Logan couldn't quite understand before he waves his hand in a dismissive manner, closing his cold eyes.

"That will be all. Keep up the good work, Logan. We have some work we need to attend to. Right, sir?"

Thomas doesn't respond. It takes him a moment to realize that Thomas hasn't said a word since Logan approached the two of them. He opens his mouth to speak, but he feels a buzz and looks down. Ah, right. He needs to get back to work. When he looks up, the two are already gone. But, something doesn't feel quite right. Why is Thomas here? What is A planning?

Will things change? And if so, will they be for better or for worse? Then again, he wonders how it could get any worse, unless they end up killing people for no reason, but that'd be illogical to do. He gets another buzz.

> "Logan,

Once you are done with your work for today, I ask that you meet me in my office.

-A"

And that's a terrifying message to receive. He hasn't visited A's office in a long time. What could he even be needed for? He can already tell the rest of the day is going to be long. There's a sense of dread sitting on his shoulders, but he tries his best to ignore it. He knows its not healthy, but he needs to do his job. He's not sure what he should expect. Maybe he'll get thrown out of the window and fall to his death.

God, he can't be thinking like this.

He shakes his head, and enters T-01-68(H) 's room once again. He'd already seen this abnormality, but he was tasked to come in here before it's qliphoth counter reached zero. The tall humanoid's butterfly head flutters as he enters. The calm and solemn atmosphere of the room almost makes him forget how dangerous this abnormality is. Almost.

"What happens when people die?" The question is asked. No matter how many times he enters this room, the abnormality's voice always makes him shiver. Maybe this abnormality wasn't the best one to visit while he was in his current mental state, but he couldn't ignore his orders.

Logan doesn't respond. He simply lets the abnormality talks, all while ignoring his existential dread.

"What happened to those that worked here?" It asks, butterflies landing on its shoulders. "They must have returned home… Where family and warmness await."

The Funeral of the Dead Butterflies- what a long name- gazes down on Logan in silence, with eyes he cannot see.

"But everyone knows that the employees can't leave the company unless they retire." It continues on, the butterflies inside the large coffin festering.  "They must have 'retired' and returned to their homes, having earned what they wanted and full of hope."

Logan could hear the smile in its echoing voice. He exhales through his nose, writing his notes. Just don't think about it.

"But retiring isn't as easy as it sounds. Just like how feathers do not fall out on their own free will. Then where did the retired employees go?" It tilts its head, wings fluttering. "They are bound to the company the moment they enter. They cannot leave even if they retire."

Logan snaps his notebook shut, and the abnormality falls quiet.

"... My coffin isn't big enough to replace hundreds of graves… Do you mourn your fallen coworkers?" It asks, its echoing voice softer than what Logan is used to. He didn't think its voice could get any softer, really.

"No… I don't have time to mourn." He says simply. He's not sure why he answered. He never answers. The butterfly wings flutter once again.

"I've failed to provide proper rest to your friends…" It looks at its empty hands, the two others still holding up the heavy coffin. "... I will wait until the end of time… Wait until I can put their bodies to rest..."

They both fall silent, staring at each other. He could hear the numerous butterflies inside of the large coffin festering and fluttering.  There was a strange feeling of understanding.

...Understanding? No, no, he's just tired. He shakes his head, and leaves the room before he can fall for the insect's trap.

Talking to the abnormality affected him more than it should have, and his results were mostly good. In fact, they didn't need much more information on the abnormality. The only reasons employees were still sent to see it was because if they didn't, it would break out again. And last time it broke out, well… It was certainly not fun. He scratches his arms at the memory, trying to get rid of the phantom feeling of butterflies on his skin.

Why they don't just make better containment cells, he's not sure. Maybe they just wanted everyone to suffer. He wouldn't doubt it, really. The bastards probably count on all of them dying. Then again, if they all died, they wouldn't have people to work for them. Unless they replaced everyone with AIs. That'd probably take a lot of money, though. In fact, how is the company even making money? Is it paid for by the government? Eh.

He shakes his head, sighing. He's thinking too much about the wrong things. He should strictly be thinking of work. Work and nothing else. Just think about work and- oh look Patton's approaching. When did Patton get here? What does Patton need him for?

"Lo-lo! Are you busy? I wanted to talk to you." He says, a strange seriousness in his expression that Logan isn't used to seeing.

"I am in fact busy." He states without a second thought. At that, Patton frowns.

"I made sure to catch you at lunch time- can you not take your lunch break?" He tilts his head.

Was it lunch time already? God, he really needs to focus if he's losing track of time. This doesn't happen to him. He's always on top of things. Always.

"... I suppose."  He says after a brief pause, and the tension in his friend's shoulders releases, a smile on his face.

"Cool! Can we talk somewhere more private?" He blinks, but nods, leading the two of them to an empty breakroom. The breakroom wasn't often used- filled with plants that are probably fake and cheap cafeteria tables and chairs. The two sit down in the uncomfortable seats, Patton shifting and tapping at the table.

Patton looks nervous, still. He isn't sure why.

"Sooo… About what happened yesterday…" He pokes his fingers together, averting his gaze. Logan frowns at this, glancing at the table before looking back at Patton.

"Ah. I am aware I messed up yesterday." He sighs, adjusting his tie.

"Oh-! Really?"

"Yes. I shouldn't have been so careless and let that abnormality affect me. Thank you for the medicine, by the way. I'll try not to let this happen again." He closes his eyes, frowning a little. He doesn't like admitting his mistakes. It's even worse that Patton's not saying anything. Cracking open an eye, he sees his friend looking confused.

"No, Logan, I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about you… y'know... Threatening the abnormality." His voice goes quiet as he says this, pouting.

This was certainly news to him.

He had only visited Deceit once yesterday, and went back to work after he got his medicine from Patton. He never went back in, and he has no memory of threatening anything.

He blinks in surprise, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at this. It takes him a few moments to get his thoughts together to say something.

"Patton- I don't recall ever doing such a thing. Are you sure it wasn't a coworker?" He tilts his head.

"Huh? No! I'm sure it was you!" He squeaks, eyebrows pushed together in concern.

"I can assure you that it wasn't."

"But- what if, uh… What if you got brain wiped?!"

Logan raises an eyebrow, and Patton's face flushes a bit. He sighs, crossing his arms.

"There's probably a more logical explanation to this, Patton. Have you been getting enough sleep? Taking your medicine?"

"I have!" He shouts, stamping his foot and puffing out his cheeks. Logan stares, before looking away with a sigh, shaking his head.  

"We will… resume this later. We should both be getting back to work." He was already tired of today. So much nonsense is happening. His headache grows.

"... Okay, fiiiine. But you better keep your word! We will be talking about this later!" He wags his finger and Logan smiles, only for it to immediately disappear.

"Alright. I'll contact you after I meet with A."

"A? You have a meeting with him? What for?" Patton looks worried again. But that's to be expected. Everyone knows how scary A is.

"I'm not quite sure. I'm certain I'll be fine, he was praising my work this morning, after all." He hums a little. "But we should really get back to work. You may have patients who need you."

"Alright… I'll see you later!"

And with that, they part ways.

It was… a strange conversation. He wonders why Patton would think he'd do such a thing. It would just make his work harder if he were to threaten an abnormality. So silly.

He looks down for his next task and. Wow. Alright. Of course after that strange conversation he's tasked to talk to Deceit. He looks around. There were cameras everywhere- or at least he assumed so. They must be very well hidden, because how else would they receive information? Then again, this may just be a coincidence. He's starting to think like Virgil.

… He stops that train of thought quickly.

It's the same old thing, walking down the hallways to get to Deceit's cell. It wasn't exactly hard to navigate, there were only four abnormalities per team, after all. Three if you didn't count objects- even though they still affected people in strange ways. Standing at the door of the containment, though, he felt odd. Odd like he felt earlier. His gun felt heavier than usual in his coat. But surely it's nothing. He's thinking too much about Patton's words. He huffs, entering the cell.

Deceit looks up, coiling up tighter on himself when he realizes just who it is that entered. Logan doesn't miss the glint of his fangs. He blinks, pulling out his notebook.

"Logan, just the person I wanted to see." He hisses, voice low. "Are you here to finish the job?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Deceit." He squints his eyes, and the snake scrunches his nose, tongue flicking out for a moment. He stands slowly, tilting his head to the side, and Logan looks up at him.

"Hmm…" He hums, inspecting Logan with a cold and calculated gaze. Logan doesn't look away, a tense silence hanging in the air as they hold their stares, neither willing to submit. It lasted for a while, a heavy feeling in the air. Logan willed himself to not click his pen or mess with his tie. Finally, Deceit sighs and steps back, shrinking down onto the floor and resting his head in his hands.  "Whatever. Lets get this over with. As lovely as you are, I don't feel like dealing with you. You understand, right?"

He wears a sickly sweet smile, tilting his head. Logan rolls his eyes, before noticing something. Something that makes his blood run cold.

A bullet hole? In the wall. He blinks slowly, trying to process this new information. How could this happen? Unless Deceit somehow got a gun, this would mean that an employee used their weapon in here. He thinks back on Patton's words and feels his head pounding. This is already too much.

"Oh? Did you finally notice?" He smiles, standing again. "You left that there, you know."

"...What? No. Falsehood! You're a liar, certainly you must be able to manipulate the surroundings. And somehow you got Patton to believe such as well." He straightens his posture, glaring at the serpent.

"Acting so innocent… But you're just a wolf in sheep's clothing. I'm not the only one you've threatened, hm? You've scared others before, right? You've killed others! Surely this isn't out of the realm of possibility, little wolf! I bet you're just waiting for the day I escape so you can kill me yourself !" The snake shouts, drawing closer still to Logan.

"Quiet! This is all utter nonsense." He wills himself to not step back, standing his ground. "You simply want to get under my skin. Enough of your trickery- I'm just here to get my job done, and I don't have to deal with you."

The snake straightens, and laughs, hand coming up to his mouth in an attempt to silence himself.

"Oh little wolf, you have no idea…" He smiles, showing off his long fangs. "But, fine. Don't listen to me. No one said you had to in the first place."

Logan grits his teeth, hold on his pen tightening, before he lets out a breath.

"You're quite an annoyance." He purses his lips, rubbing his temples and trying to get himself to calm down. Getting upset won't do any good for him.

"Oh, I know!" He says a little too enthusiastically. "Maybe if I'm annoying enough you guys will get tired of me and throw me out."

"That wouldn't happen."

"... I know that. For someone so smart, you don't understand others very well, do you? You can't read the room, or tell sarcasm. You're just horrible when it comes to emotions and other people. Am I right?"

Deceit was, in fact, incredibly right. But Logan would never admit it. And like the snake had just said, he didn't have to listen to any of his nonsense. Though, something still tickled at the back of his mind, and his eyes once again trail to the bullet hole. It's not true, that'd be completely illogical if it were. He remembers no such thing occurring, after all. It's an illusion, perhaps. He'll have to write down that this abnormality is capable of making illusions. There's a lot of things in the works just to keep this abnormality contained. He overheard plans to remake the room so that he cannot connect to others. Then there's also the eyepatch he won't be able to remove. He wonders what else they'll do. He wouldn't be surprised if they put a muzzle on him and chained him down. That's what they did with Remus, after all.

"You're thinking hard over there. Did you really learn so much from just standing in this room with me?" The snake asks, laying on his stomach and kicking his feet like a teenage girl, his tail swaying slowly.

Logan doesn't acknowledge him.

Of course, remaking the room would mean they'd have to put the snake to sleep and in an even smaller containment while the room gets renovated. Most abnormalities become more violent after being temporarily relocated. He imagines that being in a dark metal box with no light at all would be alot worse than this already small, plain room. He isn't sure how abnormality's minds work, but humans being in isolation like that without light would drive someone mad, depending on how long they're kept in there for.

Wait, why is he even thinking about this? He has to be working.

"I doubt you will answer me honestly, but may I ask about your history before coming here." He raises an eyebrow to the reptile.

"Of course! Why, I was born on an alien planet and was sent to earth as a child once my planet exploded." He says, a fake smile playing on his lips.

"As expected. I'll have to ask a different time." He sighs, shaking his head. "I am surprised though. Isn't that a plot for… a superhero thing? I didn't think you'd know of such tropes."

"I lived in the woods, not under a fucking rock. I may not look like you, but I was raised mostly the same way. Yet, I'm held in captivity like a wild animal." He hisses.

"Interesting." Logan hums, writing this new information down, to which the snake curses under his breath for even giving a sliver of information about himself.

It's silent again. The only sounds being Logan's pen scratching at the paper. This research has been going better than expected- even though he hasn't learned a lot of new things from the snake yet. Deceit has been staring at him. He's not sure why. When he chances a look, he's met with green and gold, staring him down in an unreadable expression. He raises an eyebrow, a silent question.

"Are you really okay with dying here?" The snake asks, never tearing his eyes away. "Employees that work here aren't allowed to leave, right? Why would you accept working here and accept inevitable death? Why did you sign up for this?"

His questions made Logan uneasy in a way he didn't understand. He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it quickly, staring.

"Are you really okay with being forgotten, dead in this hell?"

"How would I be forgotten?"

The snake smiles, leaning back and laying out his hands.

"Well, allow me to propose a… hypothetical." He starts, making dramatic gestures as he speaks. "If someone was alone in the forest, and no one saw the death blow, and no one found the body… Did the attack actually happen?" They go silent for a few seconds.

"Of cou-"

"The answer is: nobody ever knew they existed. Therefore, nobody will care no matter what the answer is. They may as well have never been alive in the first place... Do you understand what I'm saying, Logan?" He stares, standing once again.

"I…" He stammers, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Everyone here will be forgotten. In a few decades, their families won't be there to remember them. And this building is hidden away anyway, right? You'll die, and it'll be as if you've never been alive in the first place. Your death doesn't change anyone else's lives."

"Yes, but that could be said about death in general."

"That's true… But do you really want to die here? Die without letting yourself be known? Humans are capable of doing great things, yet you threw away your life to study freaks of nature, never to be remembered."

"I do not wish to be remembered." Logan states after a long pause. "I do not care if I make an impact or not. It is my life, and mine alone. Why should I care if no one remembers me?"

"Then why'd you throw away your freedom to work here?"

He hesitates, before settling his firm expression. "I have no obligation to tell you anything. I think I've heard quite enough from you today." He sorts his things, his posture straight. The serpent gives a low laugh.

"Even though you're smart, your mind is so fragile. They've already got their claws around you… manipulating you like a puppet." Before Logan can argue, he continues, "But whatever… Move along, little wolf. I'm sure you're needed elsewhere."

Logan stills for a moment, staring at the serpent. There was something he was missing. But he's not quite sure what it is. He narrows his eyes.

"What is it that you're planning?" He asks. The snake smiles, as if he knew this question was coming.

"I have no idea what you mean." He replies simply. Now, Logan could easily press the abnormality to speak more, but he didn't want to risk anything. The snake was probably venomous, after all. He does wonder what effects the venom has, but he should save that for a different meeting. He shakes his head, sighing.

He doesn't say anything as he leaves the room.

The halls, although employees and clerks walked to and fro, felt incredibly empty. He notices that the lights are a lot dimmer in the hallways than in the containment rooms. He's not sure how he's never noticed it until now. For the hallway that leads to Virgil's containment it makes sense. The man is terrified of the dark. But it suddenly feels dimmer everywhere in general.

His thoughts go back to Deceit and Patton's words. It was a strange thing to think about, really. Death… illusions… so much nonsense that's hard to sort through. His head is pounding, and he can tell that he's almost at his limit. Just a bit longer though. Everything will be fine.

It seems he only has one more task to do before going up to see A. That felt… quick. A little too quick. Days here are usually very long. Perhaps he's lost track of time again? He hopes not. That'd be very unfortunate.

But he should get to work, then he'll mentally prepare himself.

Surprising as it is, talking to the abnormality actually calmed him. She was happy when he walked in, so that probably explains it. But now that he has no more tasks, a heavy feeling weighs him down. He hasn't been to A's office in a while. It's on the very top floor, too. His heart is beating more than it should. He shouldn't be nervous about something like this.

Shaking his head, he enters the elevator. Usually, he doesn't mind silence, but the pressure in the elevator was suffocating. He's fine- he keeps telling himself this. The way up to his office is long. The only thing reminding him that the elevator is actually moving is the small shaking and the clanging. He flexes his fingers, before holding his hands together- adjusting them awkwardly before holding them behind his back. He couldn't tell if it was just him or if the elevator was making him shake. He straightens his posture, taking a few deep breaths.

It's fine. He signed up for this job. He can deal with talking to an AI.

He doesn't know how long it took for the elevator to get to the very top floor. In actuality, it was probably only a few minutes, but it felt a lot longer.

When the doors open, he squints at the bright fluorescent lights, a huge change from the dark hallways underground. He steps out, looking around. He hears something tapping. Like soft patting against the walls. It takes him a moment to realize what he's hearing is rain. He hasn't heard the sound of rain in awhile. If only he could see it. It seems even up here there are no windows. He exhales slowly, walking down the empty, white hallways. It felt almost like a hospital, only much more quiet. The only sound present was the tapping of the rain against the building. He makes it to A's office a little quicker than he would have liked, but it's fine. The sooner this gets over with the better.

He knocks twice on the door.

"Hello. This is Logan. May I come in?" He asks. There's some shuffling behind the door before it opens itself. He gives a nod, walking inside.

The room was dark compared to the bright hallways. The only light was on the large screen, and A sat in his chair, staring at Logan. Thomas was nowhere in sight.

"Logan." He says with a nod, gesturing to the seat in front of him. He takes the seat.

"A." He says back. "May I ask why you've called me here?"

"Well, it's about yesterday's performance." He gives a smile with no feeling behind it. It looked incredibly out of place on him. "You're quite bold, I must say. Usually I would be against harming abnormalities when they haven't even breached, but…"

He leans in, and Logan feels his heart drop.

"Between you and me, I think everyone should be taking notes from you."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." Logan says, voice much quieter than usual.

"Oh, I know." He gives a knowing look, and straightens his coat. "I know everything that happens here. And I know things you don't. Like how you threatened O-01-62(H) yesterday. But I already know you don't remember that."

Logan opens his mouth, trying to find the words to speak. But nothing comes out. This can't be right. This must be a trick or something. He has no memory of this. It can't be true- this is all nonsense. His grip on his knees tighten.

"You're thinking quite hard… Don't worry, I won't punish you." A promises, but with how flat his voice is, it's hard to tell if he really means it.

"Why… How did I forget such a thing?" Logan asks, the smallest hint of distress in his voice, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Oh, Logan. You think we don't have the technology for that stuff?" He leans on his hand. "You know, everything in this building affects our employees and their performance. The gas we release and the medicine for example."

Logan swallows, a lump in his throat at this new information. "I don't understand… why would I threaten an abnormality like that?"

The AI stares, eyes cold against him.

"That doesn't matter, dear." He ignores the other's distress easily, rising from his chair and walking to his computer. "But enough of this. I didn't call you here to coach you through your pathetic emotions. You're a good employee. One of our best. And you… will be my ace in the deck."

"What do you mean?"

The AI is quiet for a while, staring up at the screen while Logan sits behind him.

"You will be the key to this company's success. Thomas is set on ruining everything… But you know what's best, right dear?" He turns around, his eyes staring straight into Logan's. It made him feel a strange dread.

"I'm… not quite sure I do." He admits, tearing his eyes away. A approaches, settling a cold metal hand against Logan's cheek.

"Oh, you will soon enough. I expect nothing but perfection from you." He stares Logan down before slowly pulling away.

"Yes sir."

He hums, pleased.

"Good, you'll do good." He nods.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"That is all, but-" Suddenly there's a cold press to his head and the sound of a click. He doesn't need to look up to know it's a gun. He holds his breath. "You will not utter a word about this, understand? You have information that other employees underground do not. I will know if you say anything. Understand?"

Logan holds his breath, before closing his eyes. His body is incredibly rigid, shoulders squared. "Understood."

The gun is taken away and the AI smiles. It's funny how much he smiles for an AI with supposedly no emotions.

"Good. You're dismissed then. I will send you more information later on, my ace." He waves his hand dismissively, looking back at his computer.

Logan nods, and slowly leaves the room, the sudden brightness making him squint his eyes. He blinks a few times, sighing. He has a lot to think about, the new information still processing in his brain. The sound of rain returns to him, and he allows himself a few moments to listen before heading to the elevator.

And once he steps inside, it takes every ounce of self control to not overload. He can wait it out just a bit longer. Just a bit longer and he can go back to his room and let his emotions out. It'd be unprofessional to breakdown like some sort of child.

He hadn't realized how much he's built up, though. There's a throbbing pressure in his head, and he loosens his tie to make it easier to breathe. There's so much buildup. And today was a pile of different emotions he doesn't know what to do with.

A would be ashamed. Emotions shouldn't be necessary. The shaking of the elevator is enough to ground him, but he finds himself swaying absently more than once. His fists are clenched hard, leaving crescent shapes in his palms. His jaw hurts from being so clenched.

Just a bit longer.

The elevator shakes to a stop, and Logan has to keep himself from immediately running to his dorm. The day would be over in 3 minutes exactly.

He reaches his dorm and then…

An alarm sounds, red lights blaring everywhere, bathing everything in a bright red that hurt his eyes. This isn't helping. It's too loud. Too bright. Too much all at once and he wants to scream. He wants to scream, he wants to scream, he wants to-

"Urgent! Abnormality F-06-58(W) has escaped! We need to immediately suppress it!"

His stomach drops.

Remus escaped.

He wants to just enter his room. He can calm down there. He can hide under his covers and wait for everything to pass. His hand itches to open the door, but he decides he can wait just a bit longer.

He's expected to do nothing but perfection, after all.

So before he can even process it, his legs are moving.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Kira (9)

CHAPTER 9: It’s a Different Dawn

Loki x fem!Reader (Kira)

Series: Will contain fluff, smut, bloodshed, violence, anxiety, tears and the cries of my wilted soul.

Chapter content: some old stuff is dug up, a new place is visited, a new stranger is...met?

Warnings: not much really...but then again...not much really :P

Word count: I am in such a weird phase right now. Like a trance. I can't seem to make my mind come to this very moment sometimes. Often, actually.  But this place such a weirdly comfortable escape I keep wondering if things would’ve been different had I known about this site ages back.

MASTERLIST & Taglist in bio, my love

The one time you like the city you have hated so much for so long, you are leaving it for another place- continent, in fact- and are somehow surprised by the streaks of flawless orange, red, pink and purple paint the sky the most colourful for the first time. The roads are empty when the car leaves from The Hidden Grim. The forests give way to barren lands outside the city walls and the concrete jungle is but a side view to your journey to the airport.

Robert was supposed to play the role of your chauffeur till the terminal but you are being escorted by another man today. The same man who, according to you- had perfect yet eerie timing for saving you that horrendous night.

"Everything okay back there?"

His voice. Yes, of course, that is one of the reasons you are so wary of him whenever he is around you. His voice seems to have a gravity of its own, moving the things around him in order, according to his elemental force. Maybe that is why even though he has been nothing but a gentleman, he just does not seem to rub you the right way. Which answers the question of why your boss does not like having him around. No two stars with such strong force fields can survive in such close vicinity.

"Didn't realise you cared so much about me."

Ah. Right . You had nearly forgotten Loki's presence beside you. Nearly. Hard task but it happened for- you look down at your watch- twelve seconds.

Even at five in the morning, he is dressed with the intention of taking over the world. The black suit does not seem to disappoint the looker- in this case, you- when you wonder what all had Gustav packed for you.

"The question wasn't for you," Heimdall admits with an irritated sigh and a raised brow.

You are clearly sitting on the edge of a black hole waiting to be formed.

"Hm," Loki sighs, closing his phone, "here I thought we were finally getting warm."

From the corner of his eyes his watches you smile at his- what he thinks is ill-timed- joke, feeling this strange flutter take form inside his chest. He feels better watching you smile after the night you had. But the moment he remembers the horror and the tears on your face, his fingers close themselves into a fist, calculating all the ways to find out the source and theorise what could possibly be done with them.

I'm watching out for my own interests , he even tries to convince himself. If she isn't in the right frame of her mind, it will affect my work. There is no other reason.

"Everything's fine, Mr Heimdall, sir," you admit, breaking the cold trance of his thoughts that Loki is swimming in, resurfacing at the call of your tired yet soft voice.

"Okay, good," Heimdall acknowledges with a nod, swerving smoothly towards the private terminal, "just wanted to make sure your boss wasn't being the reason for your silence."

You brows converge as you turn to face Loki in confusion, him doing the same but ending it with an eye roll and a slight shake of his head. "He has a tendency to mock my skills as a host ever since the beginning."

You let your tired eyes go a little wide to show the dawn of realisation engulfing your sleep-craving brain while Heimdall scoffs from the driver's seat.

Ten minutes later you sit in the most comfortable little jet you have witnessed in your life, your hope of getting a shut-eye in the back of the plane seeming impossible as you are shown to the comfortable soft leather seat facing Loki while Heimdall and Robert- who was responsible for the vehicle bringing the luggage- sit at the back.

Oh well, might just make good use of it.

"The marketing and finance floor each sent in a list of investors for the new subsidiary of agro-plant and machinery."

Loki- already settled in his seat, his jacket resting in the closet at the back, his sleeves rolled up just enough for you to think how used to he is hiding his scar- looks up at a fidgety you trying to find a comfortable angle to sit as you open up your laptop and turn it to show him the list.

"Tell them to run their respective checks," he concludes, taking the champagne offered by the hostess who is looking at him with the most suggestive look, ticking something off inside your mind.

"Uh...they already did," you mention, your fingers curling into your palms, trying to stop you from saying anything further.

Loki has learned to read that look you have on your face right now. The look of having something to say but letting anything out for the fear of something awful.

"And?"

He watches you blink, take in a lungful and sit straight in your seat before finally speaking.

"It...um...there are a couple of things that I...what I'm trying to s-"

"She made me run an intense background check on the list. None of them is worth letting into your business," Heimdall finishes all your anxiety for you and creates another tide nonetheless.

Loki eyes you with curiosity first and you are still trying to make sense of what he is thinking before he pulls your laptop towards him and eyes the list.

"What's wrong with the Silvercombs?"

You turn to Heimdall, who simply tilts his head to let you take charge on this one.

"The heir to the business is the elder son. He's..." you tilt your hands in the traditional gesture of 'that's how it is', "a known socialite who has been stealing money from the company's charity to fund his extravagant parties."

You can hear Loki click and swipe on your machine, watching the stills and captured CCTV footage of the man being involved in everything that is wrong.

"Okay," Loki's brow does a little wave, letting it seep in, "what about Dante and Bradburn?"

"Involved in sex trafficking," you say softly, wrapping one hand on your opposite arm, rubbing your thumb over the skin that can feel the goosebumps come in waves over the surface.

"Smith and Darby?"

"Darby is renouncing the partnership soon. He is leaving the empire to settle with his new wife in the Himalayas after they lost their daughter in an accident. Smith doesn't know about the decision yet but Heimdall thinks he will grow suspicious of the fund flow within the next month or two which might not be good for the employees if there isn't a contingency plan that can bear Smith's temper."

"Would you like anything else with your champagne, sir?"

The hostess practically coos at Loki, making you wish you'd just taken an economy flight, never having to witness the ridiculousness that you were seeing right now.

"No, thank you," Loki sits up to look at you, not even breathing in that woman's direction, who- you admit to yourself- seems like Victoria's Secret model on her off days, "so no one on that list is clean?"

"How about some s-"

"Excuse me," Loki breaks the woman's coy composure with just a thread of iciness, "I am trying to have a conversation with her, do you mind?"

It is hard to look at the poor lady trying to keep herself together as she goes away but not that hard when you realise you are the only one on the plane without any refreshments.

"There are two companies we weren't able to find much about. Anvil Corp and Goliath Inc. Nothing is given about the owners on the company's website. The VPs are ordinary people and are as clean as a human can be but I still have my doubts."

The captain of the flight welcomes every passenger by their name before announcing take off, making you the first one to fasten your seatbelt as the engine comes to life.

No further conversation is made as you see the gravel move back from outside your window.

What your mildly anxious heart does not notice is the three pair of eyes discreetly glued on to you, looking for any signs of discomfort that might need external aid.

Loki can see your eyes shut close- partially due to the uneasiness of the flight, partially due to the heaviness in your head thanks to a sleepless night- while your fingers try to dig into the leather of the armrests. He cannot help but notice how your breathing accelerates with every second as his mind counts the gap between every inhale. You open your eyes just for a few moments, making the mistake of looking outside just as the plane tilts and the dew in your eyes is clearly visible to the man sitting opposite you.

Without wasting another bit he reaches into his pant pockets and takes out a silver strip of some medicine.

"Here," he calls out to you, "John recommended me this for my...travelling sickness. Take a tablet."

You look at the silver strip, sending its reflection everywhere inside the plane, wondering for a moment about the medicine before throwing every precaution out the door to take it from his hand and popping one inside your mouth.

The little tablet tastes sweet on the tip of your tongue, readily dissolving in your mouth. Within minutes you start feeling your nerves relax, your breathing ease up, and your hands unwind. That's what it takes to finally have slumber engulf you in its embrace.

"What did you give her?" Heimdall whispers at Loki with a hint of anger, frustration and worry swirling inside his voice.

"An SOS for anxiety," Loki whispers back, looking at the unconvinced face of the watcher, "oh relax! Her doctor recommended it. And I know that you know."

Heimdall does not counter him. Instead, he watches him get up and take the seat next to Robert and Heimdall, swivelling the furniture towards them in order to face them more comfortably.

"Did you find anything?"

Heimdall watches Loki's gaze go further than where he sits, following it to see Robert produce a file for both the spectators. He takes the file and opens it for him and Loki to see. Inside is the entire life of a man that goes by the name Harrison Wardwell.

"There is a five-year timeline from about ten years ago when he was in the same city as Kira," Robert whispers, pointing at the activities of the man during that time along with pictures of him from every source that is at his disposal. "It looked like coincidence first until I found out he used to work with her mother's sister. According to the photographs on her social media, they dated for a while before he decided to end things and move away."

Both Heimdall and Loki study the timeline intensely, letting the information be etched in their brains.

Loki's eyes wandering eyes pause over Robert when he watches him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"What is it?"

Robert breathes in before turning to look at you sleeping, hearing you snore lightly.

"During that time, Kira frequently visited her family doctor for various ailments," Robert hesitates a bit before continuing, "her doctor had coded her file with symptoms of depression. And...more."

Both spectators looked on at the copy of notes Robert had put inside the file.

*Patient shows symptoms of depression...family not been able to catch up...Does not express anything...as if...in shock...unable to register her surroundings...avoids talking to the male staff in the hospital...*

The flip of the page forces Robert to glue his eyes on Heimdall and Loki, reading every minute change in their expression when they see what seems like a family photograph with a recognisable Harrison and barely identifiable- not to mention too young- Kira not smiling for the camera while the former keeps his hand on her shoulder.

.

"I was not expecting this."

"It's Tony Stark. What else were you expecting?"

You look at Loki with a mixture of confusion and frown.

What the hell do you mean 'It's Tony Stark...'

"But...it's an expo ..." you try to reason with yourself than with Loki as the cars that picked you up from the airport now slowly take you through the gates of what seems like a little heaven made right in Anthony Edward Stark's city.

There are cars coming in and going out through this estate that is covered in more green than the entire New York City combined. Striking villas lineup two streets, nearly making you miss the lake right in the middle of lush green golf grounds lying at the back of those too-good-to-be-true houses.

Wait. Will we be staying in one of these...mansions? you wonder through the window when another lane filled with better villas named after a flower passed by. But I just left a mansion!

Turning another lane, the driver stops the vehicle after just a few meters.

"The reception, Madam, Sir," he announces.

You are trying to let his words seep through your brain when the door on your side opens with fair greetings.

"Welcome to Potts Sunrise Estate," the concierge greets, indirectly urging you to get out of the car.

The air smells of grass and something sweet and sensational that you cannot put your finger on. The sun is brighter and the sky is clearer than you'd seen eleven hours before. There are birds chirping somewhere in the distance while a few people are going in and out of the reception, some of them meeting up like long lost friends, which, a part of you envies for a withering moment.

"I'll go see what Stark's kept in store for us," Loki mentions, adjusting his jacket before turning to Robert and Heimdall- getting out of the car behind you.

You see them exchange a nod before Robert takes out the luggage and Heimdall excuses himself, telling the former to go ahead while he 'takes care of some business'.

Great. I'm invisible I guess.

The reception is nothing too over the top but a decent room of glass supported by wooden beams and decorated with plants, vines and windchimes- housing a place for the people who are responsible for helping out the guests. By the east side in the present shade sits a statue of Buddha in meditation and opposite to it in the lawn is a swing chair in white. The windchimes strike a duet with the breeze that puts your soul in a happy mood.

"No, but you don't get it, Hope. I'd love to stay in one of those mansions because it's day time. But the moment the sun goes down I'd be running around for the smallest box to hide in because my brain won't stop playing 'Tip-toe by the window'. It's the monkey brain, hon. Can't do nothin' about it."

You turn around to watch a fair-skinned man with eyes filled with so much light, you think they might start shedding tears of pure sunshine at any moment. The woman with him is his total opposite. Filled with grace and composure that dances with her hair bouncing off her shoulder, away from the collar of the white pantsuit she is dressed in.

"All I asked you was whether you picked the key of our chalet from reception or not," the woman decrees, walking away, the man following her like a puppy lost in love.

"Also I don't get half the people arriving here in three-piece suits. The expo doesn't start till tomorrow. What are you guys, business jocks?" He raises his hands in question, making eye contact with you halfway when he sees your eyes light up at the topic.

"Oh my God," you chime, "right?"

Like a hundred light bulbs turning on at once, his face lights up as he points his index finger at you in the friendliest 'hey, she gets me!' gesture.

"See?" he tries to show Hope another human who agrees with him before turning back towards you to shout, "love your shirt."

You look down at the Lord of The Rings themed blue shirt matched with black cotton palazzo pants, smiling at the thought of looking anything near decent in this. That too after an eleven-hour flight.

"Thank you!" you nearly yell back, turning towards the reception with a huge smile on your face, nearly bumping into a very curious Loki.

You try to hide the joy on your face so as to compose yourself in his presence, clearing your throat to try and explain the reason for this absurd goofiness.

"Twenty."

"Hm?"

"The chalet booked for us. Number twenty."

"Oh. Okay."

You both walk behind the concierge helping you out with the luggage.

Wait.

The chalet booked for us. Us. Us-us?

How many rooms does a chalet have?

What even is a chalet?

.

"Ah, rooms," you sigh with relief on walking in another room on the upper floor. With three rooms in all- two bedrooms with attached bathrooms on the first floor and one of similar nature downstairs apart from the cosy living room with an open kitchenette- you are already falling in love with this place.

"Keep these in the room upstairs and the rest in this room," you hear Loki's voice from the living room downstairs.

Your belongings have been moved to the room attached to the hall while his stuff has moved up to the supposed 'master bedroom'.

When did chivalry die to make him the boss of all decisions?

You feel the jetlag catalyse with this microscopic bitterness rising inside you. Is the same man who comforted me- in his own way- last night?

The bell breaks the heaviness rising around you.

Loki looks from behind the kitchen counter as you walk towards the main door to open it.

An attendant with a kind smile stands with a letter over a box of chocolates in his hand.

"Invitation from Miss Potts and Mister Stark," he announces ever so politely, inclining Loki to take a few steps towards the door but not come any closer for that man to directly hand him the letter.

"Oh, what for?" you ask excitedly.

"Welcome dinner in honour of all the guests gathered here in the name of the brighter future with Stark Industries," he responds with a little bow.

You are looking in the plain yet elegant invitation in your hand- clearly Pepper's choice- too overwhelmed by the thought to finally meet her after such a long time.

"We will be awaiting your presence at dinner tonight," the attendant seems to conclude, again with a bow, "Mr and Mrs Odinson."

You hear your soul scream while it dies and rises from its grave simultaneously.

"W-ha-no-uhhh...I-we are...no...uhh..."

Words have abandoned you in the forest drowned in the thickest blanket of snow. The animals are all looking at you with pure judgement in their eyes while you're trying to explain that one arctic monkey you are not made for an ice-water lunge as he continues to look at you in confusion.

And through all this chaotic silence, Loki is that one sane fox who lets go of a tired breath and steps forward to close the door in that monkey's face, finally putting a stop to the verbal stroke you just suffered.

.

"It is supposed to be dinner!"

"With the most influential people in the world!"

"So?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...hello?"

"You and Loki truly deserve each other-"

"Gustav!"

"-s company!"

You look at your phone screen with the urge to break through it and shake Gustav by his collar.

"I am not wearing that thing to dinner tonight."

"So you're letting all those hours of sweat and tears of mine go to waste?"

"This is pure blackmail."

"Is it though?" you can clearly hear that rusty teasing edge in his voice.

"Come on, man, this...this thing," you hesitate before lowering your voice to a whisper, "it's too revealing!"

The knock on your room's door is slight but that doesn't mean it isn't enough to make you jump where you sit in your bathrobe, nearly throwing your phone away.

"Kira, are you decent?"

I'm fucking terrified if that matters!

"Y-yes," you declare, letting Loki turn the handle to your door and step in.

You have to catch your breath in order to not blurt out what all you feel when you see him at that moment.

Loki has cleaned up nicely. The three-piece suit- sheen black over the smaragdine shirt- fits him a bit too perfectly. The pants around his long legs are just the right length to complement them. The shirt is loose enough to look comfortable but not loose enough to feel shaggy on him. His hair has been swept back quite thoroughly and his presence smells of jasmine wrapping a street in a village that sells its freshest herbs and spices.

"You...are not ready yet," he mentions after a quick scan of you, head to toe.

"You look nice," you are finally able to speak, now realising what he just said. "Oh, yeah. I'll um...don't worry. You go ahead. I'll catch up at the villa," you assure him, trying to breathe in between words to keep your brain working.

Loki gives you a thoughtful look before turning around to go towards the door. "Don't get lost on your way."

Just this once you excuse his insult and go back to the call you were concerned about a few seconds ago.

"Uhh..."

"He looks riveting, doesn't he," Gustav states in the most casual way.

"...that would be an understatement," you whisper, fearing he might be hearing you from somewhere close by.

"You don't have to fight with me, dear. Just ask yourself what you would like to feel tonight."

Feel? Feel.

And like the unforeseen monsoon winds hitting smack in the middle of a hot summer, your wet dream starring you and Loki flashes right before your eyes.

You look at yourself in the full-length mirror next to the bed, thinking what you are already feeling right this second.

"I want to feel..." you do not realise you are thinking out loud saying the words as they form.

"I want to feel that dangerous spark tonight," you conclude.

"Well...?" Gustav's voice reflects all shades of excitement.

Filling your lungs with air, you straighten your back, watching those callow eyes turn a shade darker to reveal something that has been long asleep.

"What footwear do you think would look great with that dress?"

[manicr]

Season’s Greetings

 ...and a merry fuckmas to you too, asshole

Summary: It’s the season and Bullseye has a job, everybody just keeps getting in the way and into each others pants.

...Taskmaster hires Bullseye.

Rating: R for violence, profanity , sadism, and hating Chrismas.

Parings: None here. Future Multi: M/M, M/F, M/M/F, F/F,  F/F/M.

Prologue

In the distance Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You played as Bullseye garotted the fat man in the Santa suit next to the dumpsters in the alley behind the mall. Taskmaster sighed and tried once more to pitch the job to the notorious assassin, all while ignoring the far too excited face Bullseye was making as the mall Santa choked and bled. 

“It’s at least more profitable than whatever you’re getting killing Santas, Bullseye. More challenge too and much, much, better for your rep. You’ve been out of the game a lot, man. I’m practically doing you a favor here.”

He was happy for his mask when the hapless victim Bullseye was toying with pissed his pants, making Bullseye finally drop him with a disturbing little giggle and then proceeded to stomp his face in with sickening crunches. On his medication or not, Bullseye wasn’t sane.

“I’m doing this on my own dime, Tasky. A public service, if you will.” Bullseye wiped the garotte off on the red velvet suit before pocketing it. “I mean, it’s November. It ain’t right.”

“Then make some money with me. It’s a nice corporate hit; take out the boss man in his fancy home with his advanced security system and army of pumped up bodyguards. This asshole actual employed Anvil to watch his damn back, and they are actually good as private contractors go. I think a trained a few key personnel there.” 

“Boring. I can kill assholes like that a mile away.”

“Not this one. He’s into tech and is not just a trumped up Stark Wannabe either, he’s a military defense contractor. You won’t snipe him that easy. I’ll need your talents, sure, but I’ll need you there in person and ready to get into tight spaces.” Taskmaster could guess what Bullseye was to say and raised his hand before he could be interrupted. “I’m not involving Deadpool in this; he’s in one of his I’m a Hero phases again.” That he had O’Grady working with him already wasn’t anything Bullseye needed to know.

“Ugh. It’s such a waste,” Bullseye whined and lit a cigarette. “But still, still ain’t sounding like anything that would need or challenge my particular skill set.” He took a drag and cocked his head curiously; Taskmaster tried to go at this another way. Bullseye was vain and egomaniacal. 

“It is since I need absolute precision. Our target has equipped professionals with the latest defensive and protective gear there is, off-market stuff that he’s developed with the billions he makes off retail and slave-wages. I need a bonafide killer who can exploit the slightest crack in their armour while dealing with drone operated kill bots and unpredictable ricochets. Wilson would survive all that, but he wouldn’t be much help. You on the other hand, you’d clean house. Like magic.” 

“Sounds a little more interesting. What’s the paycheck?”

“Ten mil each. And whatever we wanna take from the target. It’s right up your alley, Bulls. It’ll put you back on the map, get you on your feet, grease the wheels -- all of that stuff. No more of…,” he paused and looked at the bloody mess at Bullsye’s feet, the dingy alley and stinking dumpsters, “this.”

Bullseye looked around too, mimicking his gesture, but didn’t seem to find anything amiss with the picture he was painting. “Who’s the mark?”

“Ben Johnson of Access Corp. Timeline, before Christmas. Client wants to tank the shares and send the company into disarray for the shopping season as well as to cut the military contract he’s holding. It also seems to be personal. So some of your particular flair will be appreciated by the client.” Always a good hook on Bullseye, let him be messy and artistic with his hits, or so Taskmaster hoped. 

It was never easy to maneuver Bullseye even when you’ve gotten him to move in the direction you wanted. The assassin came with a warning label and a penchant for chaos, but that was exactly what he needed for this job. More so than he was telling Bullseye. The assassin really didn’t need to know. 

Taskmaster waited, hearing Sleigh Ride play from inside, face tense behind the skull mask at Bullseye’s very much theatric thoughtfulness. He let out a relieved breath as Bullseye burst into one of his signature toothy grins and declared:

“I’m in. When do we start?”

[princess-of-france]

Hi! I'll ask the same for you: Multiples of 5 for Edmund, please! Here's to our Gloucester boys :) Thank you!

Oh boy, oh boy, it’s my favorite god of hell. Thanks, friend! :)

I’m going to use Edmund as he exists in the L.E.A.R. universe, because that’s the version of him I know best. Hope that’s okay! xx

5. Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)?

While he’s not the type the whip out the Windex or the pull out a vacuum at the drop of a hat, Edmund is an abnormally tidy 27-year-old man. His natural instincts for strategy, secrecy, and careful preparation have endowed him with a keen sense of organization (both in his head and in the places where he lives and works). Obviously, his father’s law office has its own set of cleaners and he can pay for housekeeping whenever he likes, but the basic arrangement of all his belongings is always the same, and always neatly coordinated. 

Another way of saying this is that the only messy thing in Edmund’s life is his heart. Loving people renders them uncategorizable, which is why he fights so hard against it. Kessa, Edgar, Cordelia… He cannot file these people away in his mind. They are the mess.

10. Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Edmund has the irrevocable urge always to be the smartest person in the room, which is possibly a neurosis and possibly just a sign of colossal ego. (And he usually gets what he wants in this regard, because the twat has an IQ of like 180. Only one other person in his life can give him a run for his money, intellectually, and she hates his guts.)

15. Biggest and smallest short term goal?

I’m going to answer this question for Edmund at the beginning of the play:

Smallest short-term goal: to ingratiate himself with all the Anglia board members at Goneril’s engagement party.

Biggest short-term goal: to convince his father, Caleb Gloucester, to leave him Anglia as a client in Caleb’s still-unfinished Last Will and Testament.

20. Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

No major illnesses beyond the ones that most (vaccinated) children experience. But I’m sure he’s given UTIs to at least a dozen women since the age of 16.

25. How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

At the top. 

Whether he’s serving on the board of Anglia, or serving as Anglia’s chief legal counsel, or serving as husband to a divorced/widowed Goneril (CEO) or Regan (CMO), or serving as Lear’s interim replacement while the patriarch is in the hospital…it really doesn’t matter to Edmund what role he takes, so long as it belongs to him and him alone. He just wants the power, glory, money, and fame that has lain at Edgar’s feet since the day he was born. Within 5 years, Edmund feels he should be able to con himself into a position at the head of the Anglia Corp. food chain.

Except, he thinks sometimes, lying in bed with his hands over his face and the memory of fresh violets in his nose, he might be willing to give up on all of that if she wasn’t so determined to give away her inheritance…

30. Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (e.g. a close family member suddenly dies)?

This is a bit of a spoiler, but I doubt anyone will care (especially since I’m writing a prequel): when Kessa commits suicide, Edmund really does go off the deep end. It honestly breaks my heart just thinking about it. His mother was the only person in the entire world who always loved Edmund unconditionally, who put him first, believed in his worth, championed him in the face of overwhelming antagonism, fought for his rights as a natural son of Caleb Gloucester, and made it her mission in life to ensure his happiness. Her depression was the kind of obstacle Edmund always thought she could overcome, since Kessa was pretty much the strongest woman who ever lived, and it absolutely destroys him when he realizes there are some battles even goddesses cannot win.

He weeps when he gets the call. It is the one and only time he sheds any tears in my play, and he does it in front of Cordelia, who holds him as tightly as Kent held her when Marianne died, all those years ago.

The next time Edmund will cry is when Lear enters at the end of Shakespeare’s play, carrying the corpse of a hanged girl.

35. What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

Golf. To this day, Edmund doesn’t understand why businessmen are so obsessed with chatting idly about multimillion-dollar deals over 4+ hour rounds of golf. There’s nothing inherently wrong with playing the sport, of course, but using it as a backdrop for business that could be completed in 15 minutes in an office is beyond him. It’s just such a complete waste of time??

40. Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

I think Edmund is in the worst position of all: he has both.

His genius-level intelligence, natural good looks, inborn ability to charm women, and male privilege have definitely given him an unbearable superiority complex which Cordelia has made it her mission in life to puncture like a balloon.

On the other hand, Edmund also secretly suffers from an acute, infuriating sense of inferiority that just will not be scoured away by either money or success. His mixed race identity (in an overwhelmingly white world of blue-blooded New York business); his tawdry family history (as the bastard son of an ex-stripper); and the fact that Caleb obviously favors his legitimate son, Edgar, both emotionally and occupationally…all these things make it very difficult for Edmund to value himself as highly as he wants to.

I think a large part of his superiority complex is overcompensation for these feelings of inadequacy, as well as righteous anger than he has been made to feel inadequate about them in the first place.

45. Superstitions or views on the occult?

God is dead. God has always been dead. There is no such thing as fate or divine justice or cosmic intervention. Humans have free will and are inherently self-interested. There is no such thing as good or evil, only people who are brave enough to reach for what they want and people foolish enough to try to bat their hands away. The stars are cold. The universe doesn’t care. We are always, always alone.

50. Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

I don’t think death scares Edmund one bit. Everyone dies, at one time or another. Even Kessa’s unexpected demise doesn’t make him “afraid” of death; it just makes him catastrophically angry and sad. 

What does frighten Edmund to his core is the idea of dying BEFORE he has time to ascend to the zenith of power to which he feels entitled. Succumbing to death before he takes his place at the top of the world scares Edmund shitless, especially in light of his mother’s passing, because it would mean Kessa’s entire life had been for nothing. Worse still, it would mean his own life had been for nothing. If he’s not fighting, tooth and nail, every day, for the inheritance that he deserves so much more than his cocky, careless, lovesick older brother, then what is he going to have to show for himself when he’s his father’s age? How is he supposed to be content living the rest of his life within spitting distance of socioeconomic domination and never owning even a piece of it?

And then there’s fucking Cordelia, who has that entire legacy lying stagnant in a dusty bank account, just waiting for her 25th birthday so that she can give it all away to charity. If she would just change her mind…if she would just consider being Lear’s daughter for one single solitary second…if she could just try to envision a world in which she actually kept what the stupid universe has hurled at her doorstep…he would — damn her soul to hell — marry her tomorrow.

But then again, a cruel voice tells him softly, if Cordelia was the kind of woman to take the money, you wouldn’t want her half as much as you do. 

Edmund was born to want the thing he cannot have. And she was born to be it. 

[leviloveslemonpledge]

Ray of Sunshine - Chapter 3 (Levi x OC)

"What the fuck are we doing here, Erwin?"

Levi crosses his arms over his chest and leans further into the wall, wanting nothing more than to disappear it in. When Erwin said they'd be meeting with some people of importance, this is not at all what he envisioned. A meeting, in his mind, typically implies people sitting around a table in a relatively small room having discussions and more often than not trying to push their own agendas. This could not be further from what he had in mind. Rather than a stuffy boardroom, he finds himself in a massive and lavish ballroom with exquisitely painted ceilings, numerous crystal chandeliers, and marble floors. There are tables throughout the room littered with various drinks in expensive looking bottles and plates piled high with untouched food. It's a fucking waste. Worst of all is the people. Nobles, almost all of them. Fat and carefree in their ridiculous monkey suits as they try to schmooze and manipulate each other. They don't give a damn about people like him, the ones who are fighting and dying for them to be surrounded by so much luxury.

"To do what we do, we need funds, and these people are the ones holding all the money." He takes a swig of his wine, finishing it off only to have it refilled by one of the neatly dressed staff, who scurries off to find more glasses to fill. He sets it down on a nearby table. "We need to convince them that what the survey corps does is worth their investment. The difficulty is making it apply to them when they have no care about the common man, nor fear of the Titans."

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on from all the bright lights, noise and shitty company. "And how exactly do you expect me to help with that?"

Erwin looks down at him, amused. "You've created quite the reputation for yourself. I figured showing off humanity's strongest could only put the odds in our favor."

"Tch." Levi glares at him. That ridiculous title some fool came up with. He doesn't care what people call him when he's not around, that's their own business, but being called that directly just pisses him off. "I'm going to get some air."

Before he can get very far, however, he crashes into someone. "Shit." He mutters, catching the young woman easily before she hits the floor. Her muted green eyes are filled with surprise at the contact, but brighten up as soon as she recognizes Levi, matched by her signature smile. He helps her upright, keeping a hand on her arm to keep her steady until she gets herself sorted, then immediately resumes his plan to get the hell out of there. He is foiled once again, this time by a gentle hand around his elbow that stops him dead in his tracks.  He looks at her, a combination of annoyance and discomfort apparent on his face which only gets worse as he takes in her appearance. Her red hair is long, longer than it appeared when she was wearing it in that sloppy bun and looks incredibly soft. The purple dress and dark corset are very different from her white, blood-stained scrubs, and reveal feminine curves he didn't know she had. She notices him noticing her and a very becoming blush spreads over her round cheeks. Everything about her screams at him to touch her, but he's always been good at pushing aside his selfish wants. "Didn't expect to see you here, brat."

She's taken aback but recovers quickly. She can't remember a time when anyone ever called her a brat but shrugs it off as part of Levi's tough guy act. "It's great to see you again, Levi!" She places a hand on his arm. He flinches but doesn't outright pull away. A good sign. Her heart flutters in her chest. Looking over his shoulder, she spots Erwin amping himself up to impress the nobles. "Erwin, oh, I mean, commander." She gives him a dramatic curtsy. He lets out a hearty laugh.

"Heard about that did you?" He scratches the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "I'm still getting used to the title."

"You're going to accomplish great things, uncle Erwin, I just know it!"

"We can hope. My success or failure today will have a strong impact on the Survey Corps' operations in the years to come; I have to put on a good show." He glances at Levi, still looking for an opportunity to get away. It's clear this environment doesn't agree with him. "You know, I'm not the only one with a new title. I promoted Levi here to captain."

"Who better to have among your top ranks than humanity's strongest?" She raises an eyebrow, searching for some kind of reaction from the stoic captain, aware of his distaste for his newfound title.

Levi rolls his eyes.

"Congratulations, Levi. I'm really happy for you. The scouts are lucky to have you." The sincerity in her voice is palpable. He gives her a short nod, finding himself getting embarrassed at her praise.

Erwin clears his throat. "Actually, I'm glad you're here, Lydia. As you may have realized, Levi isn't exactly thrilled to be here." Erwin gestures to the grumpy, dark-haired man. "I need to secure some funding, but I'd like him to gain a little notoriety among the nobles."

Lydia raises a hand to stop him. "Say no more, leave it to me." She sends Levi a mischievous grin. "I'm happy to babysit."

Erwin lets out another boisterous laugh. "Glad I can count on you. I owe you one!"

She waves at him as he heads over to a large group hanging around the drink tables. Smart, targeting the party's drunkards to secure funds for what most believe is a waste of good money. Wrapping her hand around Levi's forearm, she leads him in the direction of some equally inebriated nobles who would likely be very impressed by the feats of humanity's strongest.

Her hand on his arm makes him hate being here a little bit less, but her intention to show him off to some spoiled rich guys makes him inwardly squirm.

She tightens her grip on his arm, hoping to reassure him. It doesn't. "Listen, I know you're not a huge fan of this whole type of thing. If you want, I can take care of all the talking. Just follow my lead."

He says nothing, but part of him is grateful she'll be taking over the tedious task of interacting with the nobility.

"Hello, Lord Reiss, Lord Kultheim, Lord Harkon, Commander Zackly! I'm pleased to see you here."

"Ah, Lydia, wonderful seeing you here my dear."

"Yes, you must thank Lady Candor for throwing such an exquisite party."

Zackly says nothing, opting to take a long sip of his drink.

"I'll be sure to send her your compliments."

Her usual brightness dims as she forces a tight-lipped smile, though Levi is unsure why.

"So, Lydia, tell us about this young man accompanying you. He seems like a decent sort, when are you getting married? He better hurry things up or maybe we'll start getting ideas of taking you for ourselves!" Lord Kultheim slurs. These men can sometimes act like dogs, and she is grateful for Levi's strong presence. She ignores the obvious come-on and proceeds with her agenda. "Gentlemen, this is Captain Levi, from the survey corps." She places her free hand over his upper arm, momentarily taken aback by the strength hidden beneath his uniform. She recovers quickly, but Levi definitely noticed. "He saw me alone, without a friend in the world and saw fit to keep me company."

Lord Kultheim raises his glass. "Good lad, Captain."

"Captain? You certainly rose quickly within the ranks. You must be quite a valuable asset to the survey corps."

"Indeed, the Captain here is quickly becoming known for his talents in battle. He has the highest number of confirmed titan kills and an impeccable service record. With him in the corps, there's truly nothing they can't accomplish."

Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes. Lydia is really laying it on thick, and they seem to be lapping it up like fresh milk.

"Perhaps his talents could be useful elsewhere." Lord Harkon steps forward, looking Levi up and down. "I could use a man like you in my personal guard. I'll triple whatever they're paying you now, not to mention you'll be much safer in the interior." He shoots them a cocky smile, and Levi wants nothing more than to wipe it off his fat, smug face. "Talent should be rewarded, don't you think? You shouldn't be sent out to die for a worthless cause like the rest of the rabble."

"Maybe talent is better off doing what it does best, rather than sitting around growing fat, stupid and complacent, wallowing in its own shit because it's too scared to go outside. If there was more talent out there with the rabble, as you so aptly put it, than up your asses, then maybe we'd lose fewer good men and get something done for a change."Levi stands resolute in his defiance, wearing his usual scowl.

Gasps, coming from all around them. Lord Harkon takes a step back, mirroring Levi's glare, but falling far short of his intimidating aura. "How- How dare you speak to me that way! I could have you court-martialed!"

"Now, now, gentlemen, there's no need for such a fuss." Lydia takes a step forward, placing herself between the two. "The captain is merely stating a truth: there would be far more advancement, and far less loss, if there were more capable soldiers choosing to join the ranks of the scout regiment. Additionally, there are so many untapped resources beyond the walls that could be put to good use someday. Why should the Titans keep all that land for themselves when they don't use it to its full potential?"

All but Lord Harkon nod their heads. "It's an interesting point, to be sure." Zackly turns his attention to Lord Harkon. "Now, now. There's no need to sulk."

"Truly, Lord Harkon, any soldier would be lucky to work for you. However, our dear captain is a man of the people. He could not be expected to place the wellbeing of one man above all others. Surely you understand." She looks up at him through her lashes, flashing him her classic smile, only feeling slightly disgusted with herself. He falls for it, hard. Levi cringes at her sickly sweet tone. "Anyhow, gentlemen, thank you for chatting with us, enjoy the rest of your evening." She curtsies and quickly pulls Levi away from the crowd and towards the open balcony, overlooking the city.

As soon as they pass through the door, she lightly shoves him around the corner and into the stone wall, eyes wide with uninhibited surprise. "What the heck was that Levi?" she whispers, her face mere inches from his. His gaze meets hers for a brief moment, then he looks away with a sigh.

"I mean, did you hear all the bullshit I had to pull to salvage that situation? Seriously." She raises her arms in exasperation, but it lasts only a fraction of a second. She brings her hand to her lips, as though trying to conceal the way the corners of her lips are tugging upward. Puzzlement is barely discernable beneath Levi's usual glower. A laugh escapes her lips, soft, quiet. That one laugh paved the way for a fit of giggles so strong, she needs to support herself on the wall. "His face," she gasps, "His face when you told him he was wallowing in shit!" She continues to laugh, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. Although her sudden laughter took him by surprise, he can't help but momentarily let his guard down, remembering that noble pig's shocked expression. The bugged out eyes, puckered lips, and flabby cheeks came together to form one of the most ridiculous images he'd seen in a long time.

"It was pretty funny." He states without a trace of humor.

Lydia looks up at him, only to double over with laughter at the contradiction between his face and his words. There's something about this moment; the setting sun shining in her hair, her genuine delight at his actions, the occasional snort she emits without shame. Something sneaks past his well-established defenses.

For a moment, he allows himself a taste of joy, cracking a ghost of a smile.