#and they all huddled around me ;w; and i just. fucking. cried about it three separate times

[neonganymede]

Sobbing uncontrollably about a horde of mimikyu was not on my agenda for the night, but here we are

[hobipaint]

Spring Bloom

synopsis: you wait for the winter to fade away, and for the spring to bloom.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, angst

rating: pg15 

warnings: none

w/c: 3242 words

The Day It Withered, December.

“I fucking hate this”, you had whispered into the snowy cold night. In front of you, Yoongi stood apathetically, eyes bloodshot and lips tight. The warm hot chocolate in your hands was no solace for the piercing winds of the winter, making ways around the panels of your coat as they flapped around to you. The tears down your cheeks were freezing, the saltiness on your tongue an aftertaste to how much you had cried. “God, I hate you so much.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, opening his mouth to speak. You waited. He sighed. “I’m sorry, love. I have no words.” 

“You could have told me earlier.”

“It’s just three months, though.”

“It’s three whole months!”

“I’m not leaving you.” He said, cupping your hand in his warmly. “I’m just needing to go away for a bit.” 

“I wouldn’t mind it any other time, but now? After all the plans that we had made?” 

His fingers traced over the ring on your finger, thumb tracing odd shapes on the back of your palm. “I know this is a lot to ask of you -”

“No, don’t say that,” you said, voice cracking again. “You know that I’d do anything for you.” 

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you beforehand,” he confesses. “You are happy here, and it would simply do no justice to either of us to try and prepare to be separated for a while. It hurts, I know it does.” He shakily smiles at you. “But we have no other choice right now.”

‘Are you sure?” you ask, unconvinced. “Is there no possibility that I can go with you? Do you have to leave?”

A watery smile. “I’m afraid I have to.” He raised his hand to your cheek, thumb tracing the line that so many tears had fallen from. “I don’t want to, either, but I have no choice but to leave.” 

The gentle snowfall was taking a turn for the worse - you hadn’t even realised that the snow was up till your ankles, gradually rising faster and faster. 

“It’s not a lot,” he tried reasoning. “Since the workload isn’t that heavy, we mostly have to conclude the results of our experiments and prepare for the journal report. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Yeah, I know you’ll be fine,” you scoffed, however, your actions betrayed you. Your free hand reached out to his, squeezing warmly, tightly, in the hope to convince yourself that it would be fine. 

Still holding your hand in his, he gently took you towards the benches in front of where you were standing. “It isn’t good for you to keep crying in the cold while freezing,” he grinned, tucking you close under his arm as you both sat down, huddling away from the frosty cold. 

“What time do you have to leave?” You asked, not really wanting an answer to the question. 

“Tomorrow morning.” He glanced at you as you buried your face into his shoulder, ignoring the tears that had been building up in favour of holding him tighter. Putting his cup down, he let his arms surround you, trying to absorb as much of your warmth he could before he had to leave. “Tomorrow morning,” he sighed, “and three months.” 

“Three months,” you repeated dully. 

“It’ll pass in no time.”

“I’m worried for you.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I can’t help it,” you shrugged, interlocking your fingers with his. “I don’t remember the last time we were apart for so long.” You thought for a few seconds. “Wait, it’s been ten years since we were together?”

“Yup.”

“Wow,” you exclaimed. “I’ve been dating you for way too long.” 

“Isn’t it healthy, then, that we are apart for some time?” He joked, grinning when you punched him playfully.

“I’ll speak to the wedding planner, then, try to push it by a few months,” you suggested, snuggling further into his arms. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kissing the top of your head. 

“I’m not worried, per say, I just liked our wedding date a lot,” you pouted. “Getting married on Valentine's Day sounded cute.” 

“You can just date me for an extra year and we can get married on Valentine's- ouch,” he groaned as you punched him again. “Hey, I’m not saying we can’t get married before that!”

“I’m still buying that dress,” you grumbled. “And you’re buying that tux.”

He smiled warmly at you, fingers clasping around yours delicately. “Of course.” 

The Day of Languish, December.

“Got your passport?” You called across the room. Packing for a three month trip in a matter of days was a bit too much even for a packing genius like yourself. Frazzled and sweaty, you checked and rechecked your fiance’s bags over and over as the poor man scarfed down his breakfast. “You know, if they were going to ship you out of the country, they should have given you a bit more of a heads up.” 

He hummed his agreement through a spoonful of cereal. “Can I pack you in a suitcase and take you along? I don't think anyone will be good enough company.”

“Oh, please,” you grin, swatting his arm. “You’ll have more than enough of you little nerds huddled in one corner talking biology.”

“That, I will. But they won’t be you.” 

“I guess you put up with the low quality crowd, then, and return to love me even more,” You winked, putting a lock on his suitcase, pulling it up near the door. You could hear him slurping noisily on his cereal, loudly chomping - a habit that you detested yet loved dearly. You couldn’t believe how quiet the house would be without your lover, a predicament you had never really had to prepare yourself. The quiet biologist and the bubbly librarian had not much to fear - your jobs allowed you both to stay together for long, comfortably falling into a routine that worked well for the both of you. As the years passed by, the two separate lives you led meshed together into one that you couldn’t imagine without him. 

“Huh. As if I could love you any more than I already do.” 

Fighting back a smile, you pulled the last bag out into the hallway. “Make sure to eat well, and have your supplements, alright?” 

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted, grinning.

“Don’t stay up too late, and-”

“And drink a lot of water, I know,” he said, reaching out to hug you close. You could feel his heartbeat racing as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, his citrusy soapy scent surrounding you. “I will remember,” he said. 

“Please do.”

The Days Till Spring, February.

The snow gathered outside your window had remained untouched for days, settling onto the porch of your little home. Inside, you peered through your large window, seeking for something more than the deserted white expanse that lay in front of you. 

There’s nothing, you sighed. Nothing at all.

You gave up after gazing expectantly through the window for a few more moments. Turning back to your room, you half-heartedly flicked the lights on in the large hall that you had - it felt so empty, so lifeless without the chatter and banter you would have with him. 

Two days ago, you had received a letter from him (apparently they couldn’t use their phones well there) and claimed that he was in one of the coolest research facilities for his field - you could feel the palpable excitement he had when writing to you. The scrawly handwriting that you missed so much had filled ten pages of happy words, detailing his entire experience at the facility. There were parts where he claimed he missed you, and loved you, too, but the little demon in your heart couldn’t take the words alone. The blue ink couldn’t possibly hold the warm scent that surrounded you when those words were told to you, nor could the plain paper even try to be as comforting as his voice itself would be. Nevertheless, you penned an equally long letter back - ten pages trying to hide the emptiness you felt without him. He probably wouldn’t notice the blots your tears had formed, would he? 

You sat against the window, back with your coffee and a book in your hands to provide some sense of escapism. Neither worked, though. You were so consumed in the snowstorm of thoughts that was taking place in your head, you couldn’t bring yourself to try and do anything else. It wasn’t like this on other days - the days you went to work, you could put on a smile and be happy. The days you planned your wedding, you could proclaim your fiance’s choices proudly while making decisions. It was only on the days like these that you felt his absence more than ever. The supposed three months were supposed to end soon, and you would expectantly wait for more letters to come, but it never felt enough. 

Day after day, day after day, you waited for letters, worked at the library, wrote long letters and crossed out dates on the calendars. It just didn’t seem normal to live so smoothly without one of the most important people in your life. Your wedding planner worked closely with you to reserve the place you wanted for as long as you could. In the littlest of details, you found yourself thinking of what Yoongi would like, what he would want, what he would notice and what he would absolutely hate - and yet, even with all of his preferences ingrained in your mind like a core memory you held close to your heart, you feared that you weren’t being considerate enough of his choices. The small bud of insecurity was now blooming into an anxious red in your heart, leading to nights of tossing and turning around with questions floating around. Outside, the snow was bidding it’s last goodbyes, falling ever so gently onto the unchanging landscape in front of you. 

The Day Of Spring, March.

“And that should be the last day,” you sighed, crossing out the date on your calendar, placed right next to a photo of you and him. A bittersweet smile spread across your lips, and you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall beyond the barriers of your lashes. It wasn’t enough to simply mark these dates, and be happy that it was among the last days. It wasn’t enough to read those letters you received and satisfy your heart that longed for more. A tear escaped the barrier your lashes had put up so strongly, dissolving every facade of patience that you had managed to keep in place. Clutching the red Sharpie in your hand, you sobbed, letting all of your anguish and fear out in that one moment of vulnerability you allowed yourself. There wasn’t much depth to what you felt; you just missed your loved one. The place you called home was now but four walls with memories held tight in its grasp, ones that you wished to relive with him by your side. 

There wasn’t a lot that had changed in the last three months. The seasons came and went, from a bitter winter to a blooming spring. You had maintained your work routine pleasantly enough, and your wedding preparations were underway. You had a steady flow of letters between you and Yoongi, allowing your unsettled mind to find a bit more peace. Albeit, you missed the man the more you gazed at the letters - but how could you stop yourself from reading them over and over? Each word written in these letters spoke to you of the same anxiousness, the same emptiness and the same feeling of wanting to be home that you felt so strongly. It kept you reassured that you were not the one going crazy missing someone; those letters. You had expected them to come every Wednesday - his reasoning was that Wednesday was named so in honour of Aphrodite, so it was only befitting that he sent his letters in a manner they reached on the day of love. Last week should have been the last letter, you thought, but today, another letter had reached your doorstep. 

My love, it began, I regret to tell you I will need two weeks more to complete my work… You hadn’t expected for the long-awaited letter to begin with such ominous words, sitting down to process the shock that had run through you. After nearly three months of waiting two more weeks should have been absolutely nothing, but the simple thought of having to withstand that again made your body drop in exhaustion. You glanced at the white dress that you had picked up yesterday from the shop, after altering it to fit your now skinnier frame - you hadn’t realised how much weight you had lost in the last few months. Adorned with tulle, shining in the bright light of your room, you couldn’t help but wish for someone to show off the dress to. Someone to lovingly appreciate how you looked in it, and compliment it with the matching suit you had kept away inside. Just… someone other than you. 

You placed the letter back onto the table, having no energy to write one back in response. It’s alright, you tried to convince yourself, but it didn’t work. You silently poured out your coffee in a mug, sitting with some work to get your mind off of things - but no matter how hard you tried, the hollow feeling in your heart echoed in the house everywhere you went. No matter how focused you tried to be, you simply couldn’t shake off the restlessness. 

A sudden strong tap-tap-tap on your door did catch your attention, though. You stared, waiting for another knocking sound to come, but there was just silence. Shaking off your apprehension, you picked up a ladle to defend yourself if needed and headed to the door. 

“Who’s there?” you called out, but there was no response - or a muffled giggle, it sounded like. You furrowed your eyebrows. Was this person playing games? “Who are you?” 

There was no response, much to your chagrin. Hesitantly, you opened the door - inch by inch, slowly, keeping the ladle before yourself - 

“A flower delivery for Ms. Y/n,” a gruff yet familiar voice called out. “I am not here to attack.” 

Still wary, you opened the door to a large bouquet of what seemed to be cherry blossoms, with two cards tucked in on top. You thanked the man, taking the bouquet in your arms with confusion and placing it in. “Who would send this to me?” 

“It seems you may have admirers,” the man commented. 

You turned haughtily to face the man - who had skillfully covered his face with a hat. “I am committed to my fiancé, and he is not here right now. I do not have any other admirers and nor do I wish to entertain such thoughts.” 

Taking the flowers, you looked closely at them - the cards were handwritten. “My love,” the first read, “these little pink flowers are cherry blossoms , and I’m sure you’re aware of what it signifies - a period of renewal, of understanding ourselves and living in our present.” 

Standing on your porch, you smiled.  

“I’m aware that you must be extremely annoyed with my letter claiming that I needed a few more weeks - I forgot how many I had written there. It wasn’t a lie, then - they did claim that they had another research project and would love to have me with them. However, in my haste to send you a letter, I may have not mentioned a key detail - they wanted me to go to them for some weeks, yes, but in the next year.” 

You had to pause and reread that sentence. What?

“You still need to sign and accept the delivery, ma’am,” came the voice from the delivery man, and you had to burst out laughing at how naïve you had been. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” You turned to him, and the beaming face that you had missed so much was right in front of you. He looked the same, and yet, so different - after only imagining his presence with you for the past few months, you thought you had forgotten what your fiancé looked like; and yet, here he was, standing in front of you like you were never apart. 

“Hello,” he said, grinning happily. “I’m back.” 

Carefully holding the flowers, you threw yourself on him, rejoicing in the fact that you had him in your arms again. “God, you have no idea how much I missed you.” 

“I’m pretty sure I missed you more.” 

“No chance.” 

“It would appear that I actually do have a chance, though -” You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him after you into the house the moment you were done kissing him. 

“I’m not done yet,” you warned, carefully keeping the flowers on the table. “I’m just being considerate to the flowers.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure of that.” He walked over to you, hugging you tightly from the back. “I missed this,” you said, letting your fingers fidget with the ring on his hand. 

“And I think you also missed this,” he said, and you were fully prepared for a kiss, but he picked out the second card from the bouquet. 

“That can wait,” you said impatiently.

He tutted. “Read it for me now, love.” 

You took it from him. “‘As winter passed, I couldn’t keep my promise of getting married on the day we met’ - that’s fine, Yoongi, I don’t mind it-”

“Read on,” he hushed you, and you turned back to the card. “As winter passed, I couldn’t keep my promise of getting married on the day we met. It was like an old promise, one that we had kept since the day I was fortunate enough to have you as my fiancée. It didn’t matter to me as much as I knew it mattered to you, which is why I felt more disappointed at having hurt your plans. I know, through your letters, how hard you had to work to make sure our plans went through, and how sweetly you kept in mind all of my preferences. I wish I could seem as considerate of you. I brought you a part of the spring bloom, the beautiful cherry blossoms, as a reminder of my love for you - I will always love you in our present, in this life; just like the bright pink blossoms that shine bright whenever they can bloom. I wish to know you even better than I already do, until the lines of difference between you and me are but thin little strings. I wish to be yours for all of this life. 

Your lover, 

Yoongi.”

You stood silently once you were done, his heartfelt words still sinking in slowly. “What have I done to deserve you?” You asked softly, and the man chuckled. “Nothing at all, and yet, everything. Just being you was more than enough for me.” 

You turned to face him, and he carefully wiped the tear trails from your cheeks. 

Suddenly, you pulled away from him, reaching for the phone. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, concerned.

“We’re getting married now,” you stubbornly announced, leaving Yoongi laughing as he sat down next to you, finally feeling like he was home. 

a/n: so i wrote something after like... years. my apologies. i hope you enjoyed reading this! as always, feel free to give me feedback through a comment, reblog or an ask! thank you for reading :) love, hazel <3

[mynumberfivethings]

Hi! I’m new to this world, I found your account from your stories about five and ageplay. I absolutely love them, I had an idea I thought I could share. I’m assuming this is taking place where littles are known? If not, it is for this idea! One of the siblings plans a fun family event: a day at the circus. It’s all well and good, maybe they get cotton candy. But then the clowns come out. Little Five freaks. And that’s how the Hargreaves discover five is scared of clowns. I hope this makes sense!

the AU does take place in a world where littles are known! and awww that’s precious! this turned out a little longer than intended. oops.

Five has not so fond memories of clowns-memories that have to do with the Commission and a certain overly enthusiastic, overly bloodthirsty co-worker. He doesn’t like to think about the man or that creepy fucking hyper realistic clown mask he never took off. It’s all in the past, after all. 

Or so he thinks, until Five is in his “little” headspace, holding Diego’s hand so he doesn’t get lost in the crowd as they line up to have their tickets taken and be seated. Klaus leans down behind him and grins, confusing the nervousness Five is feeling for jittery excitement. “I heard they use holographic animals in this show. Isn’t that cool?” 

Five nods silently, his grip on Diego’s hand getting a little tighter as the line starts moving. Diego pauses to look down at Five, eyebrow raised. He assumes the kid is tired of standing still-they have been in line for a while now, he knows how much kids hate waiting, how cranky it makes them. “C’mere bud.” Diego scoops him up easily and carries him against his hip. 

Five wraps his arms around Diego’s neck and leans the side of his head against his shoulder gratefully. 

By the time they find their seats Five has calmed down and even nearly forgotten that their might be clowns in the show-instead, he’s looking forward to seeing the amazing holograms and the fun light show. Allison waves down a man selling cotton candy and hands him the biggest fluffiest pinkest one on the tray. 

Vanya chuckles at the expression of absolutely awe on Fives face when he holds the giant ball of cotton candy in his hand. “Oh god, Allison, he’s not gonna sleep for a week straight if he eats that.” she says, as she watches Five take his first bite. 

Allison shrugs, already taking out her phone to take photos of Five as he demolishes the sugary snack. Luther, ever the responsible sibling, searches the inside of his backpack for wet wipes and upon finding them, reaches across to clean Fives face, once he’s finished eating. He’s sticky with the cotton candy, hands, cheeks and even his nose. Five makes little grumbling noises as he’s wiped down but lets Luther do it without any real qualms. 

Ben buys them all a bunch of light up neon wands to wave around when the show starts. Five and Klaus end up play fighting with the wands until Vanya threatens to take them away after they get a little too close to hitting someone sitting in the row below them. Klaus sticks his tongue out at Vanya and they both laugh when Five gasps and says, “Not nice!” 

Ben ruffles Fives hair lovingly and nods in agreement. “That’s right, not nice Klaus.” 

Klaus rolls his eyes but he’s smiling too. 

Suddenly the lights all go off at once and they’re enveloped in total darkness. Five grips the closest hand next to him, his heart thundering in his chest. Is this part of the show? He can’t see a thing. Is something wrong? Is it-

Diego puts his other hand atop Fives and leans over to whisper into his ear. “It’s ok buddy, just the show starting.” 

Five gulps. “Ok.” 

A single yellow light pops up center stage to illuminate a man in a top hat and striped pants and it’s clear he’s here to make an introduction. Five peers up, now curious. The show is amazing-an understatement, really-the animals float seamlessly over the audience and Five even got to reach his hand out and almost touch an elephant! Everything is bright and colorful and Five awes at the trapeze artists in their glittery leotards who swing from so high up. 

Everything is going swimmingly, right up until a polka dotted buggy drives right onto the stage and out come not one, not two, not three, but four clowns! They’re not scary, Five tells himself, it’s just makeup, he has to remember, just makeup and silly clothes and too big shoes, is all. There is nothing to be afraid of. 

Except that all the logic big Five is trying to put into little Five’s head isn’t staying in said head. All Five can remember right that moment is Charles from the Commission. Like Five, Charles didn’t enjoy wearing those ridiculous animal mascot hats-instead, he went the elaborate route of painting on a clown face before every mission. Five knows this because it was one of the few none solo missions he’d been assigned in his short time at the Commission. 

Charles was a quiet man-something Five hadn’t minded at all back then, seeing that he didn’t have much to say to strangers, either. The targets were five individuals who had very little in common, except for the fact that they would all be attending a childrens charity event on a crisp Saturday evening. 

It hadn’t been Five’s idea to burn down the building, and with it, hundreds of people-including their targets-but Five hadn’t been able to stop Charles, either, and that would haunt him for quite some time. 

He remembers standing outside of the building set aflame, remembers the agonized screaming coming from inside, remembers the helplessness he felt, and most of all, he remembers Charles the fucking clown stood next to him, laughing so disturbingly that the sound of it would be a reoccurring soundtrack in Fives nightmares for years to come. 

So when the clowns begin to walk into the crowd Five remembers Charles and it doesn’t matter that these clowns don’t have a penchant for murder, Five can feel all that cotton candy start to make its way back up his esophagus and the panic in him rising as they come closer and closer. 

His breath stutters in his chest when he blurts out, “Wanna go home.” but the music is so loud that not a single one of his siblings hear him and the clowns are coming closer and closer and closer still. Without another thought Five disappears, only a swoosh of electrifying blue any indication that he was once even there. 

That, the Hargreeves notice immediately. “Five?!” 

******************************************************

“Do you think he went home?” Allison asks, already calling the landline at the house. 

Vanya shrugs, looking around the stands, hoping Five got an inkling for a stuffed animal or something-though that’s very out of character for him. “He rarely ever teleports when he’s in his little headspace.” 

Ben nods, “Yeah, I think the only times he does is if he wakes up little from a nightmare-he blinked onto my bed and scared the living shit out of me last week. Maybe something frightened him?” 

Diego huffs. “Five’s been jumpy since we got here. I thought he was just excited, ‘cause we’ve never been to one of these places, but-” he curses, “I should’ve known it was something else.” 

Klaus pats him comfortingly on the shoulder, “None of us noticed something was wrong, this isn’t just on you. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” 

They search all over until Luther calls out for them to meet him in a bathroom stall, where they finally find Five, huddled over a toilet, throwing up. 

“Oh honey,” Allison rubs his back gently, “I shouldn’t have given you all that cotton candy, I’m sorry.” 

Five shakes his head and when he looks up his face is stained with tears. “W-wanna go home.” he begs. “Please.” 

“Of course, baby,” Allison brushes the bangs away from his face and takes a tissue out of her bag to wipe at his tears. “Can you stand up?” 

Five sniffles miserably. “Up?” 

Luther takes that as his cue to pick up the little and tuck him securely against his chest. “Alright buddy, let’s get outta here, yeah?” 

Five nods, his fingers gripping at Luthers shirt desperately.

************************************************

He’s still shaking visibly by the time they get back home. 

They quickly conclude it couldn’t have just been the cotton candy making Five sick that made him react so poorly. It had to be something else. 

“Hey,” Vanya scoots onto the couch next to Five and draws him into her arms so that his back is up against her chest. He goes easily, relaxing minutely at the comforting touch.

Klaus comes into the living room with Fives favorite sippy cup and offers it to him. "I put some gingerale in there to help your stomach, Fivey, so drink up, ok?"

Five nods, holding onto the cup with both hands.

"Hey, you know you can talk to us, right? Did something happen to upset you so bad?" Allison squeezes his knee gently, imploring.

Five shakes his head, his breath hitching. He drops his cup and brings the palms of his hands up to his eyes, making a face and a noise of discomfort before looking up again. The switch from his little headspace to his big headspace is almost instantaneous.

His siblings can tell immediately-any softness and vulnerability in Fives eyes is suddenly replaced with a guarded expression. He backs away from both of his sisters, embarrassed. "Sorry," he says, clearing his throat, "I'm fine."

Diego rolls his eyes. "I'm calling bullshit. Five, you cried the entire way home. Hell, you look like you wanna cry right now. No one is gonna judge you. You can open up to us." He insists.

Five bites his bottom lip anxiously and folds his arms across his chest. He knows he's not fooling anyone. "It's stupid." He mutters.

"No one is going to force you to talk about it if you're not comfortable," Allison says, pointedly looking at Diego, who sighs and shrugs. "But, Diego is right, we're not here to judge you. We just want to help."

Five gulps and looks away. "It was the clowns." He murmurs under his breath, so low they barely hear him.

"The what?" Ben asks, leaning forward.

Five groans. "It was the fucking clowns, ok?" He admits, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I don't...like clowns."

Luther raises a brow. "Are you...? Really? You're not trying to pull our legs? You are scared of clowns?" He can't help but be incredulous. Five isn't afraid of anything. Not anything tangible, at least.

"Yes, ok?" Five snaps out. "During my stint at the Commission I had to-" he cuts himself off abruptly. He can feel his chest growing tight. "Look, I don't exactly have the most pleasant memories regarding clowns and I'd really rather not talk about it."

Five is shaking again. Trembling a little more subtly than he had been in his little headspace, but trembling nonetheless, and his siblings all take note.

Vanya reaches out slowly, giving Five well enough time to back away. She rests her hand above his shoulder. "C'mere." She nudges him softly and is surprised when Five actually lets himself be pulled into her arms without any qualms.

Five turns so that his face is hidden against Vanyas neck, he hunches over, making himself all the smaller. "Sorry I ruined our day out." He mutters.

"Nonsense!" Klaus exclaims. "We left early and skipped out on all the traffic, not to mention all of Allison's road rage."

Allison playfully smacks Klaus' arm. "I do not have road rage!"

Five huffs out what sounds like a laugh. He sits up but sticks close to his siblings this time, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "You do, though."

"See? Told you." Klaus sticks his tongue out at her.

"Hush, at least I can drive," Allison waves him away. "You have no room to criticize here."

Klaus gasps, as though offended. "Gays can't drive, everyone knows that. Way to be insensitive." He can feel Ben's eyes rolling even if he can't see him.

Vanya hums. "I mean, I can drive, so..."

"Betrayal," Klaus shakes his head. "Betrayal of the highest kind Vanya. Truly."

This devolves quickly into the Hargreeves arguing over who in fact is the best driver in the family.

Five lets himself curl up on the couch between Vanya and Diego. He listens and sometimes even interjects as the bickering ensues among his siblings, the tightness in his chest slowly loosening.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Hari going after his s/o who initially runs away because they didn’t want to be a bother to him and get in the way of his job, but wind up getting kidnapped by some villains and beaten. Hari has to find his love and protect and save them! :3

"You mean you let them leave just like that and with this-this-" Hari angrily took off the note out of his hoodie and almost shove it into the guard's face. "This fUCKING BULLSHIT?!"

"I-I-"

"Chrono. Sit down." Overhaul's nonchalantly spoke as Hari could only take one breath in and out before sitting on the couch, clenching the letter on his grip as a form to discount all he had been feeling.

By god up above, you were NEVER a bother to him! Why did you have to leave dammit?! His job was demanding, sure, but he thought things were good! Weren't they..? He had been trying so hard to take as many breaks as he could to not make you feel that way.

But Chisaki had been requesting his help with the girl too much... too much to the point he couldn't even spend quality time with you like he promise he would.

Now, him and Kai were discussing the problem right after that he had barged on Chisaki's office, almost begging him for help... but as always, the bastard remained that stoic face and did things calmly.

Suddenly the phone started to ring it and for a miracle Chisaki was the one to answer it. He remained with the same expression before changing a look at Hari, who for some reason didn't like it one bit.

"They got your partner Chrono." His blood ram cold at hearing's his friend words.

"What..?" He breathed out, standing up abruptly.

"No, I don't think I will get on a agreement. Is not any useful this anyway." He spoke numbly and Kurono felt a vein of his almost popping out.

"Overhaul!" He shouted ass Kai hang up the phone with an annoyed sigh. "What the hell?!"

"Those are some enemies of ours. We have to be careful or else is the end for the Hassaikai." He spoke on a manner of fact tone of voice, looking up at the man he interlocked his fingers together. "Your partner maybe get hurt bit they will leave, Mimic is probably-"

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" The man slammed his hands on Kai's desk, scaring the poor newbie as Kai glared daggers at him.

"Back. Off. From my table, Chrono." He growled th words as Kurono gritted his teeth.

"Listen here you spoiled son of a bastard. I deal with your shit ALL day. I've been your friend for years. I am loyal to the Hassaikai ever since I joined in. I accepted helping you on that plan with the master's granddaughter, but when i need a fucking break or aome help to save the person I love YOU DONT EVEN LIFT A DAMN FINGER?!" He shouted as Kai blinked in amisement at Kurono's outburst.

".. I knew it. This all relationship thing is getting conteol over your emotions." He furrowed his eyebrows in anger and disgust at Hati, who only laughed sarcastically before flipping him off for the first time in many years.

"You wanna know what? This is part of your fault KAI." He used the name Chisaki had abandonent, knwing that this would get to him, especially when he took off his glives while lifying up from his chair in anger. "I dont have time for this. Deal with my disrespect later you fucking traitor." He cursed under his breath before storming out of the room.

"If (Y/n) get hurt I will mever forgive myself for it!" He talked kore to himself as he searched for Irinaka as fast as he could.

~

"Your boss doesn't seem much found of you." The main head of the gang spoke on a mocking tone as he had a knife on your throat.

You couldn't care less... all that had been passing through your head was Kurono.. the man you loved so much to the point of abandoned him because of his work, how much he was loyal to the Shie Hassaikai... you couldn't just get in his way... especially when you were just a, what Overhaul would say, distraction...

"I wonder what would happen if... had a little fun?" The man spoke wickedly as you scoffed at him.

"Fuck off."

"Oh! A feisty one!" Another voice spoke from behind you before you flinched at those two hands grabbing your shoulders "I like that!"

Before you even could think of asking for help, a gunshoot was hearf by all of the members. You quickly covered your ears and kneenes on the floor before you saw a familiar white arrow cut one of the guys arms.

"Hari..!" you said almost in a whisper and the said saviour jumped from the roof, shootonh everyone with a cold face. One man tried to grab him from behind but Kurono merely lifted his fist up, punching the man from behind by one motion before he looked over his shoulder at the man and tsked in disgust before shooting him merciless.

A man grabbed you and aimed a gun at your head, tremblingly as Chrono stopped on his tracks.

"You're Overhaul's right hand man?! Back the fuck off before I shoot them!"

Chrono merely lifted his chin up with a face of disgust, the action being sexy as hell for you to handle it, before he spoke again.

"Three seconds. Three seconds for you to back off before I do something that you will sirely regret." Hee lifted his hand up, holding three of his fingers. "One."

"Hari!" You whined at feeling the gun being pressed on your temple harder.

"Two.."

"Fuck off dude! Im not jo-" in one quick movement, Hari cut his face with his hair before running after you and holding you close to his chest.

"Three." He growled before he covered your eyes and ahoot the guy more then necessary...

After the loud sounds were done you whimpered his name as he let go of the gun to cup your cheeks.

"Never leave again." He sighed as he touched forehead with you "God I thought I lost you for real (Y/n)..."

"Im so sorry!" You cried, holding his hands as you looked at him "I-I just didn't want to stay in y-your way a-and-" you sobbed as Haro shook his head several times as he cupped your cheek, carresing it with his thumb.

"How can you get in my way if you are my life already dummy?" He asked in a breathless laugh as he peppered your face in kisses.

You giggled at the gesture before freezing at hearing a 'click' and Kurono got tense, immediately craddling you pn his chest and arms.

"Ha..ha!" The bloddied man aimed right at you "The Shie Hassaikai has always been a PAIN on MY ASS!" He laughed maniacly as Kurono cleched his jaw. "Now! Would you look at that! Im about to kill one of the most precious members and their lover! How cute!"

Although when the man put his finger on trigger. the rest of his body exploded almost everywhere in that shed while Kai, with a face of disgust and an outstretched naked hand, stood behind the huddle of what was once a man.

"Chisaki?" He said almost in disbelief as he relaxed his grip on you.

"The things you said back there are still on my mind, just for you know block head." He said nonchantly as he put his glove back on. "We needed to solve this problem with calm and extrategy despite the dangers of it. You were never a pacience one though." He growled as Kurono looked at him and smirked.

"Thanks. Chisaki."

"Don't call me that." He growled and turned around, walking out of that place "You're on cleaning duty tommory... son of a bitch." He laughed at his comment before je called your name at the door frame.

"I'm relieved you're okay." He said uncharacteristically soft as he mad ehis way out and your eyes widened.

"So he doesn't hate me then?" You said almost in disbelief as Hati snorted, still hugging you.

"Guess he is just jealous that i got a beauty liek yourself."

You two walked out of that place, Hari never letting go of you for once.

Version of pregnant S/o:

"Uh... Hari?"

"Hm?"

"You read the whole letter?" You asked almost in embarrassment as he mad w a more less signal with his hand. "Then... you know why I have been feeling nauseaus this past few days?"

"Uh. No, actually we should really ho see a doctor and-" he let out a confused noise as you stopped and brought his hand to rest on your belly as you looked up at him with shiny eyes.

"It won't be necessary... daddy." You giggled at his confusion before a few seconds his eyes widened as he looked down at your belly then back at you several times.

"Oh fuck.." he said breathless before starting ti laugh "Oh fuck!" He scooped you up, hand son your waist as he kissed your lips fervently "HOLY SHIT IM A DAD?!"

"Yep!" You giggled as he kissed you more while holding you up before looking at the direction Overhaul left.

"YO! KAI! YOU'RE AN UNCLE NOW! For the second time..."

You laughed as you heard Kai on distance shouting to your boyfriend to "fuck off".

[nomnomsik]

Three Squeezes - (m)

Summary: Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok... and he does too. 

Sope x reader, poly!au, Director!Yoongi x Manager!Hoseok x FemWorker!OC

Word Count: 8K 

A/N: A very special birthday present for @kimseokmomjins !! She not only wanted this fic to be done but she gave me lots of inspiration and ideas for it! I teased her so much with it. I hope you love it~

Trigger warning: Smut everywhere, bisexual sope, threesome, unprotected sex, profanity, polyamorous relationship, angst, sexuality dysphoria. 

“I’m leaving early.”

“Okay! I’ll see you later~”

There were only two voices in the surrounding air, two that vastly contrasted each other. Monotone and the other full of life and color. The door to the small apartment shut closed, the light early morning music playing out of the radio that sat on the kitchen counter. Hoseok took a seat onto the soft cushions of his papasan chair, sighing as he listened to the slight hum of the kettle that sat on the stove. He let his eyes close, relaxing to the swaying and soft music.

As Hoseok’s ears picked up the rattle and high squeak of the kettle, he stood up, stretching his arms up to the ceiling as he walked into the kitchen. He picked up the boiling kettle, flipping off the heat as he pulled up a teapot. His eyes flickered over the clock that struck every sound, joining with the radio.

Sometimes you can’t help who you fall in love with.

It was something he repeated and meant a lot to him. The metal can rattled as Hoseok poured tea leaves into a tea bag before sealing it up and placing it into the teapot. Within minutes, Hoseok had poured hot tea out from the sprout of the teapot, his hands coming out to grip both sides of the cup for a relaxing warmth.

By 7:40, Hoseok was out of the apartment. He was fully dressed, a white dress shirt decorated with vertical blue stripes and a pair of black dress pants matched with dress shoes. Hoseok preferred taking public transportation, enjoying the city despite being in it for a few years. As he stepped off the platform of the subway, he climbed up the dirty and greasy stairs, rounding the corner until he spotted his regular coffee shop.

“Two iced lattes please~” He sung, swiping his card as he was handed his freshly made drinks. He stuck two straws in before rushing out of the shop and down the street. As he opened the door to his office building, he smiled at the secretary before taking the elevator up to his floor.

“You’re late, Jung.” You scolded.

“Aww angel, can’t you let it go just this once? I got you some coffee!” He pouted, holding the delicious drink tauntingly in his grasp.

You looked at the tempting drink in hand reluctantly agreeing.

“Fine.”

He stretched his arms in triumph.

“You can’t resist coffee, angel~”

“Mmwhatever…” You spoke, sipping the cold and caffeinated drink. Hoseok placed his bag on his office chair before making his way over to the director’s office. Hoseok brought the back of his knuckle to the solid wood, knocking several times until he heard a grunt of approval. Hoseok cautiously opened the door, poking his head at first before letting out a big smile.

“Hi~”

He was responded back with the sound of the keys pressed rapidly by the man who worked diligently. Hoseok set the iced drink onto the table but gasped and pulled it away, walking over to the other side of the room. The man looked at Hoseok with confusion as his drink was just robbed of him. Hoseok bent down, squatting as he searched the bottom cabinets before sprinting back over to the director’s desk.

“I forgot a coaster~ Sorry about that!” He grinned, the coaster absorbing the condensation off the plastic. A light pink tint adored the director’s face as he desperately tried to focus on his computer screen.

“Thank you…” He whispered.

“Of course! No problem, Yoongi.” Hoseok smiled back, patting his lover’s head affectionately before giving him a small nudge on the cheek. Yoongi was taken aback as Hoseok pushed him further into his chair, bringing his own lips down to meet his. The two shared a passionate kiss as Hoseok maneuvered his head so Yoongi’s lips fit perfectly in. Hoseok’s hands wandered as his body leaned further into the chair, caressing the strands of hair at the back of Yoongi’s head.

Yoongi’s breath was labored as Hoseok pulled away, only to go back in, giving him no time to actually catch his breath. Hoseok sucked the bottom of Yoongi’s lip, seeking approval to go deeper. However, as he tried to push further in, he only received a slight push on his chest.

“H-hoseok, stop...We have a meeting soon.” Yoongi whined, separating their lips a few distances away.

Hoseok just hummed before colliding his lips back down. “Dun wanna~ You’re so cute like this. Who would’ve thought the grumpy director is just a shy boy?” He giggled.

“Hoseok… w-wait wait! Wait!-” Yoongi cried out, covering his mouth with both hands as Hoseok pushed and moved his hips. Hoseok observed the way Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks pink as he groaned. Hoseok’s happy and sunshine’s demeanor dropped as a smirk grew on his lips. He brought his hand down, running his hand over Yoongi’s clothed hard-on. Yoongi squirmed, whimpering as he pushed Hoseok’s hands away.

“I’m taking you right now,” Hoseok ordered stepping off the office chair as he started to undo his belt.

“W-what? Now? We… We can’t do it right now. We have no time.” Yoongi stammered, unable to keep eye contact as his lover amusingly stared down at him.

“What, do you not want me to pin you down on this desk and fuck you until this whole goddamn building hears you?”

“H-hoseok!” Yoongi shrieked, his face heating up. “You’re such a different person when it comes to this.” He muttered, fixing his hair and shirt.

Yoongi sent Hoseok an intimidating stare before he spun his chair around. “No, we don’t have time for your shenanigans, Hoseok.”

Hoseok crossed his arms, scowling as he begrudgingly refastened his belt.

“Fine, maybe later tonight then.”

Yoongi suppressed a blush, looking away.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get out of my office… Oh and thanks for the coffee.”

“Of course!” Hoseok beamed. “You know how much I hate that stuff.”

He’s going to kill me from embarrassment one day.

»—————————–✄

“That took unexpectedly long, Mr. Jung.” You stood, arms folded as he entered his cubicle.

“Yeah, stuff like that happen sometimes, y/n. After all, I have very deep talks with the director.” He smiled, pulling out his cabinet drawer.

“Everyone knows you’re his favorite. I don’t know why since you show up late almost every day.” You joked, flipping through a packet of papers.

“Ouch, y/n. Don’t you know words hurt?” He jokingly cried, holding his hand on top of his heart as if he had been stabbed. “I am late every day. But I get coffee for you so... “

“Fair enough, I guess.” You shrugged.

Hoseok stood up again, shoving a bunch of papers in between his laptop. “I have to go to a meeting now. I’ll see you later.”

“Right. Bye, good luck and don’t get fired~” You nonchalantly waved, your eyes solely on the words in front of your screen. You watched as Hoseok walked down the hall until he was no longer in sight. As soon as he disappeared, you turned around, some of the other members of staff huddling around you. A bunch of voices spilled out all at once.

“Omg, y/n!”

“I’m so jealous, what the heck.

“Did you guys notice how he didn’t even deny it?”

“Jesus, did you see those veins on his neck and hands? Fuck me up-”

A loud clap echoed as you silenced the group, folding your hands on top of your lap. They all looked obediently at you, listening to you as if you were about to speak the prophecy.

“Now, everyone. Let’s go back to our work, okay? As much as I’d love to talk about his veins and neck, we have a report to finish.” You instructed. “Maybe afterward, then we can.” Some of the girls nodded in agreement, scurrying back to their desks.  

“Like where can I get a Hoseok in my life? I swear, even his ass looks fine.” A female staffer mumbled and admitted without shame, her eyes shut as she was going through some painful realization in her life. You laughed from your desk, making big red circles with the marker in your hand. But, you looked up from your work, confessing.

“Okay, but can we talk about how director Min is the most irritable person ever who’s ridiculously rude for no reason and yet…!” You paused, taking the time to think. “And yet, Hoseok somehow gets along with him. Imagine that? The two most contrasting personalities ever and they get along. I don’t think I can believe that.”

“Maybe Hoseok just gets along with everyone and director Min doesn’t want to be rude to nice people?” Someone proposed.

You shrugged, some people nodding their head in agreement.

“Ahh, who cares anyway. Director Min is like that to everyone. Can we just talk about how cute Hoseok and y/n look together though?! They’re the angel couple I swear!” A girl squealed, her papers shaking in excitement. A hum of acknowledgment filled the room like a heat of embarrassment filled your face.

“Guys… It’s very flattering but…” You trailed off.

“Y/n, you better get some of that.”

You sighed. “Guys…Hoseok’s too nice to just use them like that...”

In the end, you couldn’t help but wonder how the meeting was going.

»—————————–✄

Hoseok and Yoongi sat next to each other during the meeting, watching as the CEO had personally come to pay a visit to one of his branches. As the meeting continued, the two fiddled with each other’s hand under the table. Yoongi's right hand interlocked with Hoseok’s left hand and they both kept a poker face and stared at the monitor.

Yoongi squeezed Hoseok's hand three times, as his eyes stared dead straight. A small smile crawled on Hoseok's face as he also returned three squeezes back. Yoongi released his hand making the ‘ok' hand sign. Hoseok's eyes looked down under the table as he slipped a finger inside the circle.

Yoongi almost exposed himself, feeling the need to slap his lover for such a crude and inappropriate joke at the meeting table. Hoseok laughed silently, lifting his head back up as Yoongi began writing notes down next to him. The ending wasn’t as long as they had expected to be, and as they stood up, Hoseok gave Yoongi a big grin.

As the two of them left the meeting room, they walked back to Yoongi’s office. Yoongi played with Hoseok’s fingers as he let out a bright gummy smile. Hoseok ruffled the top of Yoongi’s head, quietly closing the door to his office.

“When are we getting our rings?” Yoongi asked, pulling out his chair before taking a seat. Hoseok wandered around the room, looking out the clear windows.

“Oh, I heard yours is taking a bit longer, but mine should be arriving today!” Hoseok chirped, his cheeks glowing pink. Yoongi hummed, opening his laptop back up.

“Don’t wear yours until I get mine.”

“W-what?” Hoseok stammered, turning around to face him.

“I said, don’t wear yours until I get mine. I don’t want people to see you have one and I don’t.” Yoongi repeated. Hoseok walked over to Yoongi, his hand coming up to grip his jaw.

“Would you get jealous if I did?” Hoseok questioned, turning Yoongi’s face until he stared straight at him.

“...No…” He muttered, his eyes darting to the side. “Ugh… this is why you should’ve consulted me first. It would’ve been so much easier to actually get the ring to fit.”

“That’s not how proposals work!” Hoseok whined, exaggerating his hands as he waved them up and down. Hoseok walked over to the closed curtains, pulling them back to reveal a line of cubicles in the main workroom with Hoseok’s cubicle the closest one to the window.

“I guess I’ll get going now.” Hoseok let go of the curtains as they covered back the main office.

“Mm.” Yoongi hummed back...

»—————————–✄

You didn’t mean to intrude when you were simply walking down the hallway. But it couldn’t be helped as the meeting doors open and out came Hoseok with Yoongi to his right. Hoseok stood a bit taller than the director, but as you squinted and looked closer, you blinked in disbelief. The director had a smile on his face, his expression completely lit up like a star.

You watched for a few more seconds looking at how the director toyed around with Hoseok’s hands and laughed along with him until they were out of view. You gasped in shock and ran back to your cubicle, sitting down as if you had seen nothing. You had never seen the director with such a bright smile on his face.

Hoseok came back to his cubicle, giving you a bright smile before sitting down. The curtains to the director’s room were pulled back, revealing Yoongi’s diligent figure as he typed away on his computer. You couldn’t help but stare at Hoseok. He was truly gorgeous. It didn’t surprise you that everyone was infatuated with his bright personality. Maybe you did want him for yourself…

“Hey Hoseok, I got you some coffee.” You grinned as you handed him the iced mocha. He smiled, thanking you and taking a sip. The two of you conversed unknown to the gaze of Yoongi who watched the entire interaction. A smile graced his lips as he watched Hoseok’s smitten attitude with you. Without a doubt, he had a thing for you.

But, Yoongi couldn’t help the dark feeling that grew inside and the lurch of his stomach as he saw the two of you together. Hoseok would always stay loyal, but would he be happy with him? He looked no different from the way he had talked to him, a genuine smile on his face and his expression bright and bubbly.

It was nighttime when Yoongi packed his things and locked the door to his office. As he walked down the hallway to the elevators, he noticed a light illuminating in the dark office workroom. He curiously walked over, ready to turn off the light when he saw your sleeping figure.

Your eyes were shut closed and your breathing was smooth and even. Yoongi checked his watch again as he stared at the time. It was too late. What the heck were you even doing this late at night? Why didn’t you just go home?

He went through the stacks of papers that were on the desk, his eyes widening at the amount of work you had accomplished. He laid his briefcase on the ground as he dug through the stack to find important data summaries and charts. The papers ranged from analytics to future predictions, and important companies and contacts.

As he looked back at your sleeping figure, he couldn’t help the way his heart sped up. As he stared at you, he couldn't help the realization. Not only were you productive and hardworking, when were you this pretty? He swore he never felt this way towards someone, especially a woman before. This feeling was foreign, different and scared him so much.

Yoongi hastily took off his suit jacket, faltering when he was about to put it over your shivering figure.

Whatever, screw it!

Yoongi laid the jacket over you and walked to the staff room, waiting for the single-serve brewer to process the drink. In less than three minutes, a hot cup of coffee was made. Yoongi walked back to the office workroom, placing the cup far away from the pile of papers and away from your arms in fear you were definitely going to spill it everywhere.

He grabbed a marker, scribbling on a spare piece of paper and placing it under your hands. Sighing, he picked his briefcase up and walked over back to the elevator.

As he drove back to his shared apartment, his thoughts were mixed and clouded, uncertainty the main factor. No matter how much he tried to repress the memory of what he saw that afternoon, he couldn’t. Hoseok, notorious for despising coffee with all his soul, accepted your caffeinated drink without hesitation. If that wasn’t a clear sign he was completely infatuated, his entire life was a lie.

Yoongi had taken an interest in you, but nothing more, right? You were a worker of his and he was perfectly content with his relationship with Hoseok. Not that Hoseok wasn’t, but he wasn’t sure anymore. There were lots of self-doubts that he bottled up.

When you eventually did wake up 30 minutes later, you rubbed your eyes, your nose picking up the scent of coffee. You looked confusedly around you, pulling the jacket off your shoulder and in front of your eyes. This was not your suit jacket. You weren’t rich enough to own one of these. As you brought the jacket up to your nose, you could make up the scent of a familiar cologne. Wasn’t this the scent of Hoseok’s cologne?

As you stretched, a paper fell out from the desk and you picked it up. You brought it up to the light, squinting.

“Go home y/n. I don’t pay you for overtime...”

You blinked, trying to read the even smaller text below that.

“Also, I made you coffee.”

“What in the-” 

Needless to say, this note was definitely written by director Min. You can identify his chicken-scratch any day. But as you dwelled on that fact, you felt your face heat up. Your boss had walked in on you sleeping, completely passed out on the desk and most likely drooling. 

“Ugh, fuck my life!” You screamed into the empty office.

“Why’d he even make me coffee… Doesn’t he know it’s 2 am…”

»—————————–✄

The air only grew thicker every time you met eyes with director Min through the window of his office. It was more awkward as you embarrassingly returned his suit jacket back to him. Before, you would’ve thought you could easily stand up to director Min, but you never expected that he had such a delicate soft side. The fact that he cared for your health and wellbeing gave you an indescribable warmth.

Your interactions with Hoseok were still the best parts of your day as you too chatted with each other. You were so lucky to sit right across from him. Yoongi was forced to watch the interactions that occurred each day, praying for his ring to hurry up and arrive so he can make a statement.

And that date came, his resized ring, which fit perfectly on his finger, came in. The silver metal was sleek with a small diamond embedded in the middle. It didn’t stick out, but at the same height with the rest of the ring. Hoseok had dropped his things when he returned back home and saw Yoongi with it on. He kissed the older until they broke into a giggling fit. Hoseok held onto his hand as they walked together to the wardrobe that stood in their bedroom.

Hoseok pulled out the box that held his ring and slipped it onto his finger as he sighed in bliss.

“It’s official.”

“It was official when we filled out the documents.” Yoongi deadpanned.

“I’m trying to be romantic here!” Hoseok rebutted, pouting.

A calm silence filled their entire home as they both looked at their rings together. It looked different when it was on their finger, more beautiful and meaningful.

“Hey, Hoseok…” Yoongi started, feeling the urge to talk about their relationship. “How do you feel about y/n, romantically?”

“W-what?” Hoseok questioned, taken aback. “Y-yoongi, what are you talking about…?”

“The way you look at y/n is very similar to how you look at me, so I want to know-” He turned his gaze to Hoseok. “Tell me how you feel about her, now.”

“Yoongi, I-I…” Hoseok took a few steps back. “Do you not trust me?” His voice quivered as he couldn’t look at up. “I haven’t done anything...A-and, I wouldn’t do anything to her…” 

“Of course I believe you, Hoseok. You’re too nice to actually hurt me.” Yoongi replied calmly. He walked closer to his lover, wrapping his arms around him. “I’m sorry... I almost made you cry.” Hoseok embraced his lover as he tightly held onto him.

“I’m so sorry, Hoseok. I just-” Yoongi sighed as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Y’know, I just... Whenever I thought too much about it, I got confused. I never thought I’d find a woman attractive and I previously knew about your past relationships with other women. But... I guess I was envious. You’re always so open about your sexuality that I couldn’t-”

“Yoongi, it’s alright. Take deep breaths and calm down.” Hoseok murmured, rocking his body back and forth. “You’re right, I should’ve made it more clear. I’m sorry too. I wish I could’ve helped you while you were struggling with it. I know how it feels to be lost and confused and I’m sorry I let you down.”

Yoongi sniffled and felt his eyes well up with tears. He kept sniffling as he broke down in Hoseok’s arms. Hoseok softly kissed the top of his head as he held onto him. 

For the years Hoseok had known him, Yoongi was not a guy who cried often. In fact, Hoseok really has only seen Yoongi cry twice before this. Once when he had asked Yoongi out and twice when he proposed to Yoongi.

To see Yoongi be so vulnerable in front of him warmed his heart. This is what he felt love was. This is what having a solid and trusting relationship was. It was something Hoseok only dreamed of when he was younger and now he had just that with the man he loved with his entire being.

The night ended with the two of them in their bed, rings adorned on their fingers as Hoseok made love to him. It was sweet, soft, and romantic that Yoongi couldn’t help the tears that streamed down his face as he stared back up as Hoseok. His life, being a constant mess of work and stress, was always made better with Hoseok. Stress that accumulated as the director of an upcoming company went away as he lost himself. With Hoseok, he didn’t need to think about any of that. He was more than happy to give him what he wanted. With him, Yoongi drowned all his worries away.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The pair fell asleep giving three squeezes with their hands locked together.

»—————————–✄

The next day caused a huge uproar in the office. As Hoseok walked in, smiling and waving ‘hellos’ to everyone, they all immediately noticed his ring. A crowd formed around him all asking him hundreds of questions. Hoseok eyes widened as he blinked and smiled innocently at all the people. You gawked at the beautiful ring on his finger. Now you felt a bit bad that you were blatantly flirting with him when he already had someone.

When the elevator door open and up came Yoongi, it caused even a bigger uproar. He gave a small wave and everyone screamed as they pointed at the same ring on his finger.

“Oh my God!”

“A-are you guys m-married?!”

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

“WHAT THE HECK I DIDN’T THINK-”

“Uh… Good morning to you all too. Now get to work.” Yoongi responded calmly, walking off. As he slipped into his office room, a smirk graced his lips in triumph. 

Now everyone knows the truth.

“Congratulations, Hoseok.” You whispered as he made his way to his desk. He gave you a happy smile, a blush adorning his cheeks.

“Thanks!” He beamed, opening his folder of papers. “Oh, y/n, after work, my fianc- I mean, um… Director Min says he needs to speak with you.” He blushed, pretending as if nothing had happened.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied.

Oh no... nononono. Did director Min know I was trying to flirt with his fiancé? But, then again he never worn or said anything about it… Ah, I’m doomed. I’m done for! I’m going to get fired 10 hours from now, I just know it.

Even though you busied yourself in papers and work, the time just flew by. It was already 6 pm and as you knocked on the door, Yoongi’s muffled voice came through. You entered the spacious office only to be met with Yoongi’s expressionless face as he stared at his computer screen.

“Take a seat.”

You pulled one of the chairs that stood in front of his desk as you nervously folded your hands on your lap. The door creaked open as you turned your head around, you were met with the happy smile of Hoseok. He waved as he walked over to his fiancé. Yoongi cleared his throat as Hoseok leaned on his desk.

“So y/n, there was something we wanted to discuss with you.”

You nodded obediently, hoping for anything to break the awkward air. Yoongi continued,

“As you know, Hoseok and I are engaged. And… Well to put bluntly, we both took a particular liking in you. You’re hardworking and extremely diligent and from what I’ve seen, you look like someone who’s loyal.” You lowered your head, unsure whether you were hearing this right.

“Y/n, we were wondering if you would be interested in a… polyamorous relationship with us... We… we may not have the strongest bond together, but we are willing to build one up with you…” Yoongi desperately scanned your face, looking for any sort of expression or confirmation, or anything.

“Um…” You nervously started, clearing your throat. “Well… I do… have a particular liking in both of you, of course, but… I’m… I’m not sure…”

“Of course! We get that!” Hoseok chirped. “We’re not sure how these things work either, but we want to do it with you. After all, you do like us, right?”

“Yes!” You replied with sudden enthusiasm. “Oh… I’m sorry… Um, yes I like both of you. But isn’t that… bad? Shouldn’t I only like one person?”

“Nonsense, y/n.” Hoseok cooed, walking over to cup your face in his hands. “You can’t help who you fall in love with. If you know the difference between love and lust, then that’s all that matters…”

“B-but, what does it mean to be in love?” You whispered.

“How about we find out together?” Hoseok whispered back, wiping away the tear that rolled down your cheek.

You followed Hoseok and Yoongi out of the office as the three of you rode the elevator together. The silent of the night was the only thing that roared in your ears. Even the sound of the engine of Yoongi’s car did not overpower the sound of the night. You watched each time the car would stop at a red light, the pair of lovers would fiddle their hands with each other as if their eyes were to only study their delicate features.

A part of you questioned why you were following them, knowing eventually how the night was going to end, yet, you wanted to be a piece of that love, no matter how small or insignificant. Yoongi held onto your hand, as you climbed the stairs together. His skin was cold and pale, yet he had held you so warmly and lovingly. You could understand why Hoseok was completely in love with him. He pushed the door open to the bedroom as you sat on the fluffy cushions. You brought your legs to your chest as you sat on the pillows, your eyes staring at the entrance of the room.

Yoongi approached you, staring into your eyes. You gulped, the sound echoing in your ears as you tried to stare him down. He smirked at your game, before softly kissing your lips. You smacked your hand over your mouth, face burning up. When you looked up, Hoseok was casually leaning on the wall of the door entrance, smirking at the two of you.

“Did you guys start without me?” He teased, walking over to the bed.

“Are we really doing this?” You asked embarrassingly as both men approached you on the bed.

“Yes.” They both replied in unison. “We both talked about it and decided we’re okay with it,” Yoongi added.

“Unless you don’t-”

“I do!” You cut Yoongi off.

Yoongi nodded, leaning down to kiss you again. But, instead, he roughly kissed your lips, biting your bottom lip.

As the two of you exchanged heated kisses, Hoseok worked on undoing the pants of his fiancé. Hoseok slapped Yoongi’s clothed ass as he flinched a bit. He parted lips from you as he turned to face Hoseok.

“What the heck was that?” He questioned accusingly.

“Don’t jut your ass like that then.” Hoseok looked at him darkly as Yoongi felt a shiver down his spine and obediently backed down.

You watched as Hoseok’s arms wrapped around from Yoongi's back and up to the front of his pants. They shared a kiss as Yoongi tilted his head back to perfectly fit Hoseok’s lips. As they roughly embraced each other, Hoseok’s veiny hands fumbled with the clasp of the belt as he desperately tried to undo it. Yoongi’s hands came down, guiding him and pulling the belt out from his hands.

With the belt thrown onto the floor, Hoseok slid down Yoongi’s pants as he broke off the kiss, panting and eyes fluttering open. He directed his attention back to you as Yoongi crawled over the sheets to bring his lips back to yours. Hoseok pulled the pants off Yoongi’s feet, palming the bare skin of his ass.

You moaned as Yoongi shared kisses with you, his hands resting on your thighs. Hoseok watched as he pulled the nightstand drawer open and squeezed lubricant over his fingers. Yoongi gently pulled on your ruffled shirt, urging you to take it off. His hands slipped under your shirt, unclasping the back of your bra as he dove his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered but lifted your arms enough so Yoongi could slip your top clothing off. It joined all of the other discarded clothes on the ground.

The passionate kiss was cut off as Yoongi yelped and pulled back from you. You cracked your eyes opened, only to see Yoongi whining and arching his back. Hoseok was halfway balls deep as he tilted Yoongi’s head back again to meet his lips.

“Don’t ignore our guest, Yoongi…” Hoseok was stern on the way he spoke, using that time to fully submerge his length in. Yoongi groaned, gripping the sheets as he suddenly looked embarrassed when he met your eyes. He turned his head the other way, hiding his embarrassment as he couldn’t keep eye contact.

“Now, now, Yoongi. Don’t you think that’s…” Hoseok’s hand came down on Yoongi’s ass. “Rude?” He rubbed the red skin soothingly as he nudged Yoongi’s head back to your eyes. When he didn’t get a response out of his fiancé, he gave a few thrusts, causing Yoongi to squirm and whine.

“Hmm? Why aren’t you answering, love?”

“Mm sorry…” He apologized, unbuttoning your pants and undergarments, sliding it down your legs.

He stared, bringing and dipping a finger between your folds. You squirmed as he barely made it halfway in.

“Wow…” He marveled. “Hoseok, she’s so wet already.”

“Oh really?” He teased, looking over the shoulder of his fiancé. “I think you should treat her as a way to apologize.”

Without hesitation, he dipped his head in between your legs, working his tongue. A blissful feeling overcame your body as Yoongi ate you out without tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes closed as you grabbed and pulled on his hair. You whimpered as his tongue worked deeper and deeper, wet sounds echoing throughout the room. However, the pleasurable feeling was cut short as Yoongi faltered. The loud sound of Hoseok’s hips connecting with Yoongi’s ass rang in your ears as your eyes shot open.  

“Ahh! Hoseok!” Yoongi cried out, his mouth losing concentration. He brought his hand to push back Hoseok’s hips to which Hoseok only roughly grabbed.

“Aww, how cute.” Hoseok spit, pulling Yoongi further onto him.

Yoongi brought his spare right hand up to his mouth as he muffled his moans, trying to hide his very weak resistance. You watched with wide eyes as Hoseok completely dominated Yoongi, taking control of the director’s movements. This Hoseok scared you. His angelic and soft office persona contrasted his sexual drive in bed. He was truly a demon.

“Nonono, we’re not having that.” Hoseok hissed, prying Yoongi’s hands away from his mouth. “I’m hearing everything I give you. And I bet y/n wants to hear it too. Y/n, look at how adorable and submissive the director is. Is this what you envisioned him to be?” He laughed darkly as he slammed into Yoongi.

“F-fuck! Ahhhh…” Yoongi panted, his head falling onto the pillows and upper body giving out. You couldn’t help the arousing feeling that dripped out between your legs as you watched Hoseok completely wreck Yoongi.

“Is… Does this usually happen?” You whispered, the breath taken out of you.

“S-shut up…” Yoongi grit, as he struggled to pull himself back up with his weak arms. His pride wouldn't let him just sit there and be quiet.

Hoseok hit his ass again, a sting radiating over Yoongi’s body as he yelped in pain.

“Don’t be rude to y/n. You’re my good boy, right? Now act like one.”

With that, Yoongi cried out as Hoseok’s right hand reached for his dick. His hand gave long strokes as he jerked Yoongi off.  

“H-hoseok!! I… P-please! AH!” He pleaded as tears welled up in the corner of his eyes. The stimulation was too much for his poor body.

“Shhhhhhh.” Hoseok hushed, not stopping his actions. “Shit… You’re still so tight… How in the actual hell... Even after all the times I-” He trailed off, Yoongi’s cries like music to his ears.

Hoseok’s deep thrusts combined with his jerk-off was too much as Yoongi was edged to oblivion. Yoongi convulsed and squirmed in his hold, struggling to tolerate the unbearable pleasure. However, Hoseok let go as he put both hands on Yoongi’s hips, driving to his own high.

“C-coming…” Hoseok stuttered, his hips following with him. Hot liquid spilled inside Yoongi as Hoseok squeezed his eyes shut. Your eyes never left the pair as you watched in amazement. Yoongi’s hair was a mess as it completely covered his eyes. Hoseok was out of breath as he stayed inside for a few more seconds before watching as the white liquid spilled out.

“Sorry about that, y/n. We didn’t mean to make you feel neglected.” Hoseok panted out, sweat rolling down his skin.

“Nono, I didn’t even feel that way. I was too… enthralled by… wow.” You replied, still in disbelief how Yoongi’s small and frail body handled that session.

“Y/n, come over here,” Yoongi ordered. You jumped but crawled over, sitting on your knees obediently. “Cute…” He murmured, running his hand through your hair. You felt your cheeks heat up by his compliment and touch. Was he always this sweet?

“Are you okay with this?” He asked, his eyes holding a fierce determination.

“Y-yes, I am.” You nodded.

Even though Yoongi was the biggest sub to Hoseok a moment ago, he still possessed an intimidating presence around you. You couldn’t help but bow down to him.

“On all fours.”

You obeyed.

“Stick your ass out a bit more.”

You listened.

Yoongi lined himself up at your entrance, observing your stiff body.

“Y/n, breathe. I won’t be rough in the beginning.”

You relaxed your muscles, taking a deep breath as Hoseok sat in front of you, patting the top of your head. He connected your lips as Yoongi slowly pushed in. The stretch hurt, but Hoseok made it his goal to distract you from the pain. He left soft kisses all over your skin as you took Yoongi in.

“Look at you… Such a good girl.” Hoseok praised, ruffling your hair.

A moan left your lips as Yoongi sank back in and out. After a few minutes of passive kissing and slow thrusts, you no longer felt the pain.

“I’m okay now…”

“Are you sure, angel? We have all the time in the world.” Hoseok spoke softly.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You whispered.

Yoongi began a steady pace as you both groaned together. Hoseok watched as two people he cared about pleasured themselves. The innocent look on your face made his mouth water.

Over time, Yoongi’s pace got more intense, until you let out a cry during a particular thrust. Both of the men’s gaze darkened as they stared at you. Yoongi’s hands kneaded your ass as Hoseok no longer had an angelic smile on his face.

You shuddered as Yoongi’s pace completely flipped. He pulled you onto him, fully sinking you onto his length. You whined as you gripped the bed sheets, your body meeting his thrusts.

“A-ah!” You yelped as he grabbed a bundle of your hair and pulled you back. He could no longer hold back, setting a rough pace.

“Yoongi, go harder,” Hoseok commanded.

Upon hearing those words, Yoongi slammed back into you, earning a delicious whine from your lips. Your legs shook and trembled as Yoongi tightly held onto your hips, guiding you the entire way. Hoseok sat in front of you, gently stroking your hair as he watched every heavenly expression you gave out.

You clawed at Hoseok’s legs, looking for anything, any leverage. Hoseok smirked as he stared at your pathetic and desperate figure. From the way you had tears welling in your eyes to the loud gasps each time Yoongi had smacked your ass.

“S-shit…” Yoongi cursed, tilting his head back as he lost himself in pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n. Look at you. You’re doing so well.” Hoseok praised as you leaned your head on top of his thighs.

You cried out every time Yoongi connected his hips with yours, filling you with sheer pleasure as your mouth hung open. His rhythm was steady and rough as he kept his consistency. The grip on your hips was like a vice, knowing full well that bruises were going to form the next morning.

“H-hoseok, I think-” Yoongi muttered, increasing his pace and pushing his body more and more against yours. “S-shit!! Ahh, I can’t-” Yoongi cried out, sweat rolling down his forehead as you tightened too much around him. Yoongi trembled and he finally came inside you, panting as he stayed in for minutes. A euphoric rush overcame him as he slipped out and fell face first on the covers only for Hoseok to push him out of the way and flip you over until you were on your back.

Hoseok pulled your legs apart as he watched cum spill out and onto the clean silk sheets. You, on the other hand, were harshly breathing in and out, hoping to catch a break. Hoseok grinned, his ears delighted to hear the moan that escaped your lips as he pushed in.

“Do you think you can take me?” Hoseok taunted, brushing the hair that stuck onto your face.

“I-I… What do you… mean?” You took labored breaths, feeling extremely filled.

“Do you want me to hold back, y/n?” Hoseok sweetly cooed, staring directly into your eyes. “I can hold back if you need a break, love.”

You shook your head. “No… I can… I think I can, Hoseok…” Your voice trailed off as you prepared yourself for the man in front of you.

“You’re so good to me, angel~” Hoseok cooed again before violently snapping his hips harshly. LIke a flip of a switch, his whole demeanor changed as he roughly slammed into you.

“Fuck!” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut as you gripped the sheets on both sides of you. “H-hoseok! Ah! W-wait! Wait! Ah!”

“Goddamn, you sound so good,” Hoseok growled as he hovered over top of you. You shuddered, feeling another touch on your skin. Yoongi gently stroked your cheek as he stared down at your lust filled face.

“Look at how good she looks, Hoseok.” Yoongi slurred, watching intently every time Hoseok moved. “I bet she wants you to ruin her.”

“N-no. T-this is f-fine. No… more than this.” You choked out, the intense pleasure blurring all line of thought.

Hoseok let out a devilish smirk as he grabbed your hips, only to push you down on him harder. You cried out, your body shaking as you twisted and bundled the sheets beneath you.

With your half-lidded eyes, you stared up at Hoseok, his face contorted in a serious expression as he focused on delivering the most pleasurable experience. His body was hot and sweaty as his lean muscles flexed every time he adjusted his grip on you.

As Hoseok slowed down for a bit, you pushed your legs back together in hopes of relieving the aching feeling between your legs. You rolled over onto your side, both of your legs fully shut and on top of each other. Hoseok tsked, grabbing ahold on of your right leg, prying it open and exposing it back up.

“Don’t fucking close them.” He seethed, immediately pushing his length back in. You let out a high cry as Hoseok realigned himself, his arms holding your legs apart.

“Where is it…” He grit, plunging back into you in several directions. “Where…”

“H-hoseok, what are y-you…” You whined, looking up to only see his eyes concentrated on your legs. Hoseok thrusted roughly back again, causing a surprising yelp out from your lips. You instinctively covered your mouth with two hands as Hoseok smirked.

“Found it…” He mumbled as he repeatedly hit the same spot over and over again. Yoongi wrestled with your hands as he pulled them off from your mouth to hear your beautiful cries of pleasure.

“Now be a good girl and take it, okay? We know you can. You’re such a strong girl.” Yoongi murmured into your ear as you lost the ability to form coherent words. Every time Hoseok hit your sweet spot, an indescribable shock was sent down your spine as your legs quivered. The snap of his hips was quick as he reached your g-spot almost effortlessly every time.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Hoseok let out a string of curses as he buried himself even deeper. He gave you every single precious inch as he tried to outdo himself. “She’s… Fuck! Don’t do that… Ah, shit. Shit! I’m not going to last-” Hoseok’s voice trailed off as he fell on top of you, his lips right next to your ear.

“A-are you going to cum, y/n?” Hoseok groaned into your ear, his pace unrelenting as you squirmed and moaned.

You gave him a small nod of your head as he kissed your cheek. “O-okay…” He stuttered. “Let’s f-finish then.”

With a few more thrusts, you came, tightening around Hoseok’s length as he groaned. His pace lost its precision as he erratically pushed in. Seconds later, Hoseok released his sticky and warm cum all over, immediately spilling out as he sat up. Yoongi gave him a grin as they both stared at your fucked expression. Your hair stuck to your face as your eyes shut closed, completely exhausted.

“C’mon angel, there’s one more thing left.” Yoongi kissed the top of your forehead as you slowly opened your eyes back up. Hoseok looked divine and golden. From the way his hair parted to how it stuck to his forehead, it was too beautiful for your eyes. His toned chest and stomach suddenly made you feel much smaller than you previously felt before.

Hoseok brought his lips to yours, softly connecting them as he tasted the inside of your mouth. As he separated from you, he reached behind you to kiss Yoongi. Hoseok’s body toppled over you as he roughly dragged Yoongi closer to him. Yoongi let out a yelp before Hoseok crushed his lips again, diving his tongue straight into the cavern of his mouth.

“I love you, Yoon.” Hoseok smiled sweetly, nudging his forehead before breaking into a contagious giggle. Yoongi couldn’t help but smile himself as they both interlocked left hands, their rings matching.

“Let’s clean her up and then rest.” Yoongi proposed, his eyes grazing your sleeping figure. Hoseok nodded along, their eyes staring lovingly at their new partner, a new beginning with an addition to their family.

Hoseok and Yoongi curled on each side of you, a warm blanket overtop them as they huddled as close as possible to your body.

»—————————–✄

As morning peeked in from the curtains, you shuffled in the bed, grabbing hold onto the sheets. Your arm laid on a toned chest and your back pushed against another chest. You slowly sat up, rubbing your blurry eyes, An arm from behind you pulled you back down, giggling in your ear.

“Mmm, good morning, y/n,” Hoseok whispered, his voice hoarse. As you stared at him, you couldn’t help but gawk at his good looks despite just waking up. His hair was a mess yet it parted on top of his forehead beautifully. His hoarse voice sent tingles down your body as you leaned into his embrace.

“Good morning, Hoseok.” You murmured, earning a kiss on the neck.

You yelped as you felt another pull behind you. As you turned your head, you were greeted with a poof of hair coming from Yoongi’s head. He had a scowl on his face as he nudged his face into your neck.

“Don’t hog her all for yourself…” He mumbled, his voice much lower than how he regularly spoke.

“Are your voices okay?” You asked, concern lacing your voice.

“They’re alright, y/n. I think it’s just cause we never got that vocal before…At least for me.” Hoseok winked teasingly.

You hid your face in your palms, your whole body heating up. The more you thought about the night before, you couldn’t help but be embarrassed. You just slept with your company’s director and manager, who were married to each other. There was something in you that couldn’t get over that. However, both men let out protests as they clawed at your hands.

“Don’t hide your beautiful face, y/n~” Hoseok whined, trying to pull your hand off.

“Let me see youuu…” Yoongi pouted, his chin resting on your shoulder.

They both tickled your sides as you squirmed around to which they immediately pried your hands off.

“Victory is!” Hoseok shouted.

“Ours!” Yoongi chirped, even getting himself excited.

The two boys rested their heads on each side of your bare body, leaving small kisses over your skin. You brushed through Hoseok’s hair as he dove straight from your neck and shoulder.

“...Love you…” You heard them mumble as their kisses became more heavy and rough.

You felt Yoongi’s hand grip your chin, turning you to face him. He connected his lips with you sloppily as saliva spilled down the side of your lips. His lips tasted of rich lavender and a hint of peach. Hoseok intertwined both of your legs together, marking your skin.

Both men squeezed each one of your hands three times as they sighed in bliss.

“Why’d you squeeze it three times?” You asked, looking back at your hand.

“It’s our secret message to each other,” Yoongi mumbled, turning over to face you.

“What does it mean?” You asked as both Yoongi nudged his head on your chest.

Hoseok kissed the top of your forehead and then your cheek.

“It means, ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’”

Your cheeks heated up as you hid your face into the pillow. Hoseok only stared warmly at you.

“You’re the one for us, y/n. We’ll figure things out in the end. Let’s just enjoy the ride. Together~”

[ Part Two ] 

[stanbillyhargrove]

Demons Ending A pt 2

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Cat)

T/W: Self Harm (Cat), Abuse, Eating Disorder   Cat has a lot of issues

BIG WARNING: SEXUAL ASSAULT, DRUGS, SUICIDE

This will be a multi chapter series with fluff, smut, angst, all the things

Steve's POV

My stomach was twisted into knots and my hands were clammy by the time we pulled up to the hospital and I was seriously contemplating staying in the car. I hadn't talked to her since the day she told us she was going into the rehab program. Even then, she'd barely been talking to me. I knew she was pissed that I had brought her into a hospital, but what else was I supposed to do? When we found Cat, she was beyond just bandaging up and putting to bed and I had hit my breaking point. It had been now or never that night, our last chance to help her. But no matter how I justified betraying her, I'd still betrayed her and the thought had been building in my head that maybe we couldn't be friends anymore. Maybe she'd want nothing to do with me anymore and that was a hard pill to swallow.

"Steve? Are you home? I just want to talk to you.."

Cat had left multiple messages on my phone like that, but I could never bring myself to pick up. Didn't want to hear her say she hated me for what I did. So I never answered and never called back. I couldn't face what would happen if I did.

"Steve, man, Cat's worried about you. Hell, I'm worried about you, she says you won't answer your phone and you've been really spacey," Billy talked around his cigarette while we leaned against the front of my house.

We'd spent a lot of time together since Cat left, Billy would often show up late at night to smoke and have a beer with me. It was kind of nice, not being alone, I'd started to look forward to his company.

"Yeah," I mumbled, wiping my face, "haven't been sleeping great," I tried to avoid the topic of Cat.

Billy didn't try to avoid it, he was his usual blunt self about it, "you're avoiding her."

My silence was enough of an answer for him. He grunted and flicked his cigarette out into the driveway, "Max and I are going to see her in a couple weeks. You're coming."

"No..I can't..I.."

"Steve," Billy clapped a hand on my shoulder, "she wants to see you. I'm fucking nervous too but I'll drag you if I have to."

"Steve!" Max clapped her hands in front of my face, snapping me back to the present, "come on!"

She was beaming, practically hopping around, she was so excited. I wish that excitement could transfer to me and take away some of my anxiety, the overwhelming sense of dread. I shuffled along behind Max and Billy into the hospital, past the front desk and into the ward where Cat was. I wanted to bolt, to get the hell out of here as fast as I could until I heard her.

"B!" Cat came flying through the hallway and threw herself into Billy's waiting arms.

He clutched her tight, one hand tight on the back of her neck and the other wrapped around her waist, and lifted her off the ground.

"God," he muttered into the side of her neck, "I fucking missed you."

Cat twisted her fingers into Billy's hair and a soft puff of air left her, almost like she wasn't sure if she was going to laugh or cry, "I missed you too."

She pulled away from him just far enough to splay her hands on the sides of his face and let out a wet laugh, a few tears rolling down her face as she kissed him.

After a moment, Billy let Cat back down to the floor and she let go of him to open her arms to Max, who eagerly ran forward to fill them.

"I missed you!" Max sniffed, getting teary after being reunited with her friend.

"I know," Cat murmured, gently rubbing down Max's back, "I'm sorry, I missed you too, Max."

Billy cleared his throat after a second, "Cat."

When she looked up at him he nodded towards me, I'd been far enough behind them to go unnoticed until now.

"Steve?" She breathed, slowly letting go of Max.

I smiled tightly, felt my stomach kick up into my throat, "hey."

She stepped closer to me, stretching out a hand as if to grab me before dropping it, "can I..?"

Immediately, my eyes started getting dewy as I nodded and chewed the inside of my mouth. Cat grabbed the side of my face, gently swiping her thumb over the purple bags that had grown under my eyes before sliding her arms around my neck and holding me tightly.

"Oh, Stevie," she breathed, her breath hitching a little as she buried her face in my shoulder, "you never answered my calls, I thought you didn't want to see me."

I hadn't realized how desperately I missed her, missed the soft way she called me Stevie, the light vanilla scent on her skin. It was like a part of me had been missing and when she hugged me the full force of that pain hit.

I tucked my head into her hair, inhaling shakily as I wrapped my arms around her back, "that's not..I'm sorry, Cat. I'm so fucking sorry.." I wrapped my arms tighter around her, fisted my hands against her back and let tears fall, "I'm sorry..I had to call, I had to..I thought you hated me."

"Stevie," she cried, twisting her fingers in the hair on the back of my neck, "Stevie, I don't hate you, you saved me.."

--

"When do you get to come home?" Max asked.

The aching emptiness of Cat's absence no longer loomed over us and my face and chest hurt from how happy I was. The last time we saw her, her arms had been wrapped in bandages and there had been tubes feeding her, forcing her to live. Now, we could see flashes of thick scars when her sleeves moved and there were no more tubes. Cat's face had filled out a little, the dark hollows less prominent, she looked more colorful, even wrapped up in her usual dark clothes.

"I'm not sure yet," she smiled sweetly and wrapped an arm around Max to hug her to her side, "could be just one more month or could be two."

Billy's groan was barely covered by Max, "but you're better now, right?"

Cat hummed and reached over to lace her fingers into Billy's, "not yet. I need some more time. I'll be home for Christmas though. Just three weeks and then I'll have two whole days with you guys."

Max deflated a little, but then gave Cat a hopeful grin, "maybe we can have a sleepover?"

Billy snorted, "yeah, as if that would ever be allowed."

Max pouted at him, "why not? You sneak out all the time, just take me with you!"

"Yeah, B," Cat imitated Max's whine with a smirk, "you do it all the time."

Billy looked to me for help but was met with me trying to hold in my laughter and groaned, "you are gunna be the death of me. I will try to sneak us out, shitbird, but you better not get us caught."

--

Julie had let us hang out while she drove to the city so Billy, Max and I could surprise Cat when she came home Christmas Eve. We had been planning these two days since we had gone to visit Cat. Max and I had picked out movies to rent while Billy was sent out to retrieve a list of food and snacks that Julie had given us money for. When they came through the door we had a mountain of blankets and pillows for us all to lounge on, snacks set out on the table and a stack of movies to watch. Cat had cried while she grabbed each of us for hugs.

We got to catch up and hang out for a while before Billy and Max had to go home for dinner, leaving me with Cat and Julie. I was so used to eating by myself, it was nice to have people to talk to. The three of us got to relax together and chat for a couple hours until Julie went to work and then Cat and I huddled up once again on the pillow mountain.

"So," I started, "how are things going? I mean...are you actually better now?"

Cat rolled towards me, resting her head in her hand with a wistful smile, "not all the way, but a little bit. The beginning was tough, it took a while to find myself again, find the motivation, you know? Spent the first few days tubed, on constant watch, couldn't even pee by myself," she huffed out a laugh, "but it started getting easier. Lots of talking, no more secrets."

I winced, picturing Cat lying in that hospital bed again, forcing her to survive. My eyes caught the thick scar running down her arm and stayed focused there for a moment.

"Actually, Stevie, you guys coming to visit made the biggest difference. I wasn't going to be allowed the visit if I didn't put on weight, participate in therapy. Then after you guys came, I didn't want to mess up coming home and getting to spend a couple days with all of you."

I smiled back at her, glad to have my best friend back. Thought about how much more alive she looked now, the spark in her eyes that had been missing a few months ago was back, along with the colour in her cheeks. I felt hope bloom in my chest, wondered briefly if it was too soon to think everything was okay.

"I missed you, Cat."

"Missed you too, Stevie," she murmured, rolling to lay her head on my arm.

--

Billy's POV

Max had dressed for the occasion, I realized when she crept into my room late in the evening. She had picked out all black clothes and looked like she had walked out of a cheesy spy movie.

"Maxine," I smirked, "I think you hang out with those nerds too much."

She grinned and stuck her tongue out at me, "you said we can't get caught, jerk. Let's go."

Slowly, we slid out of my bedroom window and crept to my car to make our getaway. Safe inside my car, Max couldn't stop talking and laughing, whooping like a maniac.

We arrived back at Cat's house to join them on the pile of pillows and blankets in the living room. Steve and Max didn't even make it through the first movie before they were snoring loudly. Cat was leaning against my chest, resting her hand lightly on Steve's shoulder while Max held onto her leg.

I wanted to lay here forever, basking in the moment, except I couldn't.

"Babe," I whispered into her hair, "can we talk?"

I felt her shoulders tense up suddenly as she nodded, "yeah, okay."

Cat carefully slid away from Max and Steve to follow me to her room. I sat down on the edge of her bed, eyes locked on the floor where Steve had been sobbing after cleaning the bathroom. Remembered how panic had taken over me when I saw her, how destroyed I'd been after.

"B, what's going on?" She twisted her fingers together as she also sat down, just far enough away that we weren't touching.

She was guarding herself, thinking the worst.

"Cat, are you really okay? I just...I don't think I can go through that again.."

I watched the tension drop from her shoulders as she reached forward to grab my hand, "I'm okay, I promise."

Tears welled in my eyes, the image of her dying burned into my mind. I grit my teeth to hold myself back from sobbing, clutching at her hand as tight as I could. I didn't want to let go of her ever again, afraid of what might happen if she stumbled in her recovery and I wasn't there.

"Hey," she soothed, pulling me into her arms, "hey, it's okay. I'm getting better, I am. I wouldn't have been able to come home if I wasn't ready. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I hurt you, B, I didn't mean to. It wasn't your fault, you have to know that.."

Cat's small hand rested on the side of my face and gentled me up to look at her.

"B," she whispered, pressing kisses across my cheeks, taking away the tears that had streamed down, "none of this was your fault, I promise. I love you, I love you so much."

Slowly, she inched her lips closer to mine, dragging her soft skin across my cheek until her mouth closed over mine. I slid my hands up her back to hold her gently as I returned the kiss, wishing I could let how much she meant to me pour through my skin. Cat crawled forward to straddle my lap, making a low groan build in my throat.

I tore myself away, breaking the kiss to press our foreheads together, breathing hard as I tried to control myself, "Cat.."

"B," she breathed, "I'm okay," she leaned into me to kiss down the pulse of my neck, "I want you."

I sighed, turning my head to allow her better access to my throat and wondered if she could feel how quickly my pulse was pounding. Panic turned to heat, spreading throughout my body.

I twisted my hand into her hair when she started to leave a purple chain behind, "Cat..I-"

Cat shushed me softly and ran her thumb over my lips, mumbling into my neck, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, B."

I swiped my tongue over her thumb and slowly slid one hand down her side to toy with the edge of her sweater before dipping under it and grabbing her soft skin. She nosed up my jaw to nip at my earlobe, breathing heavily as she ran a hand down my chest.

My breath hitched under her fingers, "Babe."

Cat drug her lips across my cheek to kiss the corner of my mouth before leaning back to look at me, "yeah?"

"Are you sure? We don't have to.."

She smiled and nodded, gently running her nails over my side, "yeah, I'm sure."

A surge of emotions flowed through me as I leaned forward to meet her lips again and tightened my grip on her hip, holding her close. I had to really focus to keep myself in check when she rolled her hips into me, to stop myself from losing control and pushing her too far. Cat was breathing heavily when she pulled back to grab the bottom of my shirt and pull it off me. She ran her fingers up the muscles of my chest and stopped with the palm of her hand flat over my heart to hold my gaze for a moment.

Gently, she pushed me until my back hit the blankets of her bed and then sat back in my lap. Cat let out a puff of air, bracing herself before pulling her sweater off so she was just in her bra. The last time I saw her without clothes on, she was so fragile, looked so close to death, but now, now the gaps between her bones weren't so prominent and she looked so much more alive. She crossed her arms in front of her chest to hide her scars, her eyes misting as she suddenly became self conscious under my gaze.

"Cat," I soothed, sitting back up to grab her hands, "Baby, you're beautiful. You don't need to hide from me."

"You don't think I'm...dirty...or broken?"

I pulled one of her arms towards me, kissing the middle of her palm and then slowly ran my lips up her arm, along the lifted pink scar until I reached her elbow.

I raised my eyes to hers, my lips still on her skin when I murmured, "never. I love you, so fucking much..you know that, right? You're everything to me."

Cat smiled, her chin wavering a little as she watched me, nodding slowly, "yeah."

I slid my hands up to her face and pulled her over me as I leaned back down to the bed, bringing her lips back to mine. She breathed in shakily and wrapped her hands around my neck, holding me tightly. My tongue swiped across her bottom lip slowly before she opened her mouth to me, humming softly. Cat's legs hitched up to my hips to straddle me and I slid one hand down the side of her body to rest on her hip, toying with the waistband of her pants. Slowly, Cat's hand left my neck to trail down my chest, stopping when her fingertips hit my jeans. Her lips left mine to kiss down my face and suck a small bruise into the skin under my jaw as her hand slid into my pants to lightly grip my cock.

"Fuck," I groaned, my hips pressing up into her hand.

It's been so long since being touched, even longer since having sex with anyone and I realized now, when my cock kicked just from a hand sliding over it, that I was not going to last.

A whine left my throat when she stroked me and I felt the puff of air leave her lips when she chuckled into my neck.

"Let me make you feel good, B," she whispered.

She pulled her hand out of my pants to slide down my body, lips trailing down the dip in my chest and over my abs until her chin touched denim. A grin played on her lips as she nosed along my hip before leaving another bruise as she undid my pants. Small fingers curled into my pants to tug them down, freeing my aching dick. Her hot tongue slid up my shaft, making me gasp when she flicked at the tip.

"Please," I whined, "fuck, Cat, please."

She hummed and wrapped her lips around my dick, slowly sliding up and down, coating me in her saliva. I gasped when I slid into the wet heat of her throat, quickly sending me careening towards release. My hand curled into her hair, trying to gently pull her off with a low whine.

Cat pulled off my cock, leaving it glistening deliciously with saliva and looked up at me, "it's okay, let go, B. Let me take care of you now."

It didn't take much longer when she took me back into her throat for me to be biting back my groans as I spilled into her mouth. She pulled off my cock and nuzzled her way back up my body, trailing kisses along my chest. When her lips reached mine, she rolled her hips into my half hard dick, making me moan into her mouth.

"You okay?" I panted against her lips, "you need to stop?"

Cat kissed the corner of my mouth quickly, "I'm okay, I want to."

I wrapped my hands around her shoulders and hitched up to roll us over, laying her down in the pillows. Her breathing started getting faster as I kissed down her body, trailing my lips between her breasts, over her hitching stomach to the hem of her pants. I slowly undid her pants and started pulling them down, watching her face as I did, making sure she wasn't starting to panic. Cat had pulled her lip between her teeth and gotten dewy eyed by the time I had slid her pants off and dropped them on the floor.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," I soothed, moving up her body to hold her face, "you're okay. You tell me to stop and we stop, okay?"

She nodded slightly, and I knew she was just this side of panicking when I kissed down her neck to her chest. I slid my hands under her back to release the clasp of her bra and pulled it off her arms, dropping it to the floor to palm at her breasts.

"You're okay," I murmured into her skin, trailing kisses across her chest as I kept talking, "I love you...so much, Cat."

I trailed down her stomach, inching closer to her panty line, "you're everything to me."

I hooked my fingers into her underwear, my lips pressed to the light scars on her hip as I pulled them off of her. Her hands slid up to press the heels of her palms into her eyes with a shakey breath. My lips dragged over hips and thighs, kissing over her scars tenderly, keeping my eyes on her face and purposefully staying away from her most sensitive area.

"You with me?"

It took a moment for Cat to let out a shuddering breath and move her hands away from her face, wiping away the few tears that had pooled there.

"I'm here, I'm okay," she breathed.

I smiled against the inside of her leg, "what do you want, Baby? Keep going?" I kissed further up her thigh, "stop?" the sensitive skin before her core, "or I could keep this up.."

The corner of her mouth twitched up as she moaned, "come up here, B."

I pressed a chaste kiss above her slit before moving back up her body to nose along her wavering chin. Her mouth found mine as she pressed a hand to my shoulder, pushing me back until I was sitting against the headboard with her in my lap. Cat's breathing quickened when she rolled her hips against me and I reached a hand up to cup the side of her face, my other hand on her back, holding her close to me.

If the last thing I ever heard was the moan that fell from her lips when she sank down on me, I would die happy. It was a sound that I could spend forever listening to, would have dreams about. Her eyes welled up with tears before she dropped her head to my shoulder, clutching at my shoulders as she kept her hips moving.

I held her tightly as she whined and moaned into me, whispering curses and I love you's into her hair. Cat slowly calmed down, the tension leaving her body as she was brought closer to an orgasm. She bit into my shoulder as she came and I was soon to follow, a low whine in my throat as my hips thrust up into her.

We laid together for a while, limbs tangled and panting as we came down from our high. Cat started to shake when the high of her orgasm wore off, no longer able to push down her panic.

"Hey, hey," I soothed, smoothing my hand down her back, "you okay?"

Her head shaking was the only answer I got before I pulled her tight to my chest. Her hands balled into fists against me as I continued to rub her back and whisper to her. It took a while before she would slump against me, taking in deep shakey breaths.

"You with me?"

She sniffed and nodded, "y-yeah, yeah I'm okay."

"Wanna get cleaned up?"

Her arms tightened around me, not wanting to let go and I couldn't help the smile that came to my face.

"Alright, I'll carry you," I murmured, shifting my legs off the bed so I could stand up.

I carried her into the bathroom and managed to set her down on the edge of the tub long enough to start the shower water, though she was still clutching at my arm, not letting me go completely. With the water warmed up, I turned to gather her back into my arms and led her into the spray.

We had sex again in the shower before going back to Cat's room and cuddling up on her bed, tangled in each other. She fell asleep in my arms soon after getting comfortable and I knew I should also try to sleep but I just couldn't bring myself to miss a second of her. I stayed awake as long as I could, just tracing the lines of her body and listening to the even sound of her breathing before I fell asleep.

Julie woke me up when she got home, early enough that the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. I groaned and wrapped my arms tighter around Cat, not ready to be without her again.

"Billy, Sweetie, you should get your sister home before anyone wakes up," she whispered, her soft hand on my shoulder.

I huffed and nodded, "thanks, Julie."

She smiled and ran her hand down Cat's hair, "you can all come back later. Spend a little more time together before I bring her back in the morning."

She started to leave and then stopped at the door to look back at me, "Billy?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For being there for her. You and Steve, you two are the reason I still have my daughter."

I smiled a little, not knowing what to say before she left me to get up.

Cat was still half asleep when I pulled away from her and whined at my absence. I smirked and pulled a pillow down into her arms for her to nuzzle into before kissing her temple and sliding off the bed to get dressed.

"B..?"

"Ssh, go back to sleep," I whispered, bending down to kiss her forehead, "I gotta get home. I'll come back though, okay?"

"Okay.." she mumbled, pulling the pillow in tighter to her.

--

Max and I made it home in time, partially because I'd carried her to and from my car instead of waiting for her to wake up. Her eyes wouldn't stay open long enough for her to walk so when I pushed her through the window she immediately curled up in my bed and went back to sleep. I chuckled softly before pulling the blanket over her and settling in beside her.

--

Cat went back to the hospital the next morning and spent another month in the rehab program. After Christmas she had a setback and was one of the ones who needed the full three months before being well enough to come home. But she eventually came home and was so much healthier and happier when she did. She came back to school with us and would have to do extra courses at home in order to graduate on time but she didn't mind. Steve and I were happy to sit and help her with the work whenever we could.

We watched Steve graduate a few months later and gathered at his house with the kids to celebrate. He found a job at the mall a while after and started saving up to move out. The three of us would still be together as much as possible, we were basically inseparable until Cat and I graduated. Then the subject of moving came up again.

"Where do you wanna go, Baby?"

"I thought your plan was California, B," she smiled.

"Yeah, but is that what you want? We don't have to go if you don't want to, I'll change my plan for you if you ask me to."

She leaned into my shoulder, "I want to go with you...sit on the beach...lay in the sun...but.."

My shoulders tensed, "but?"

Cat looked down at her hands and twisted her fingers together, "I think we should ask Steve to come with us...it doesn't feel right to leave him behind."

Honestly, I was glad she asked. The three of us had been through so much together and I couldn't imagine one of us not being there. Steve was the only guy I could turn to and I didn't want to lose that, nor did I want to seperate him and Cat. Moving across the country would probably be hard on Cat, not knowing anybody, if Steve came with us it would be easier. The three of us were each other's family now.

I exhaled the tension from my body and turned to kiss the top of her head, "we'll need to find a bigger apartment. "

@elsie2018 @savagesuccubus @breadnbutternips @florenceivy @charmed-asylum @speedmetalqueen @ilkaeliseb

[helaintoloki]

Season of the Witch | Michael Langdon

chapter three: The Witch is Back

masterlist

pairing: Michael Langdon x witch!reader

warnings: language, angst, violence, graphic descriptions, adult content, deception, toxic relationships, abuse, death, witchcraft, satanism and all that other good ahs stuff

notes: lowkey got emotional writing this bc i wish cordelia was my mom and i’m stupid. and small shout out to @gx-nji & @ateliefloresdaprimavera for all of their love and support for this fic! <3

summary: what exactly is hell? and who are these strange women? and why is y/n not dead?

Hell was an odd place for y/n. Perhaps her father-in-law had taken mercy upon her poor soul as she couldn’t find one single thing wrong with it. No blistering winds and scorching fires, no little red man with horns, no screams of agony, and no suffering.

She wasn’t sure where she was. The only surroundings around her were pure white, so pure it made her eyes ache if she looked upon it for too long. But it was quiet, the air was cool, the only piece of furniture to be found was a comfy bed, and she felt at peace. Perhaps she wasn’t in hell at all... But if that was the case, then where the hell was she?

“Michael?” Y/N called out, her voice bouncing off the walls and echoing back to her. “Michael!”

“Y/N!”

“Michael?!”

“Help us!”

“Hello?! Who’s there?” Y/N called back, fear bubbling up within her stomach. She felt nauseous, the panic clawing its way through her heart as her fingers began to tingle and twitch in fear.

“Y/N!” The voice called, clearer now, ear shattering and in despair.

“W-Who are you?!” She cried. “Show yourself!”

“Save us! Save us, please,” the voices wailed.

“What do you want from me?!” She demanded, and she began to cry.

The walls drip red, hands smeared across the once clean white as multiple screams echo throughout the empty room and a chorus of bangs pound against the walls. They come in various directions, various voices, various suffering. The walls are closing in now, and she can’t breathe.

“Stop it!” She screeches, hands slamming over her ears and eyes closing shut. The screams grow louder, the pounding of the walls crescendoing until it‘s too much. Her heart was aching, lungs ready to explode. This was her hell. This was how she’d spend eternity.

When it seemed it couldn’t get any louder, the screams stopped, and the only sounds to fill the room were her quiet sobs.

“Please,” she whimpered, figure cowering against the red walls as she sunk to the ground and huddled against one of the corners.

“Y/N,” a voice, gentle and soothing, whispered. She could feel the cool air of someone’s breath against her ear, causing her to gasp. “Y/N. It’s time to wake up.”

And everything went dark.

~~~

Cordelia watched with tears in her eyes as her daughter rose from the dead with a gasp and a chorus of violent coughs. Beside y/n awoke her fellow sisters, and Cordelia couldn’t help but feel the love for her coven and hope for a second chance at salvation swell in her heart.

“Surprise bitch,” Madison smirked as she kneeled before Mallory. “I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.”

“My dearest y/n,” Cordelia quivered, a gentle hand resting on her cheek as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the young girl’s forehead. “It’s been so long. I thought he’d taken you away from me forever.”

“W-Who are you?” Y/N whimpered, flinching away from her touch as she glanced around frantically at the new faces before her. “Where’s Michael?”

“We couldn’t find your batshit crazy boyfriend,” Madison quipped. “You really need to learn to be picky about who you give your pussy to.”

“Michael isn’t my boyfriend, he’s my husband,” y/n corrected with a frown, and Cordelia felt sick to her stomach.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Myrtle cooed. “He really did do a number on you.”

“What are you talking about?!” Y/N insisted, rising from her spot on the ground and immediately growing nauseated. Cordelia held out her arms to hold the poor girl but y/n refused. She felt sick to her stomach, her head was spinning and her mind couldn’t wrap around anything that was presented to her.

“Being revived from the dead surely takes a toll on the mind and spirt, doesn’t it? I think the perfect antidote to stoke the blood and speed up the recovery process would be a spicy gazpacho andaluz,” Myrtle smiled.

“You think the kitchen here has a spice rack?” Madison retorted, and Cordelia shook her head.

“We put your sisters, Coco and Mallory, under an identity spell to keep them safe. But you... my sweet daughter,” Cordelia smiled sadly, reaching out and gently moving a stray strand of hair out of her face, “Michael took you away before I could protect you. I failed you, but I won’t let it happen again.”

“Sisters? N-No, I... I was an orphan. I am an orphan. I only ever had Michael.”

“Can somebody please just tell me what’s going on?!” Mallory questioned with frustration in her tone.

“You all are sisters, all part of the coven, all witches,” Myrtle stated.

“Witches?!” Y/N cried. “I-I don’t have any...”

And then it hit her. The dreams, the blurry memories, the incident with Mallory. They were all connected, they had to be. And when y/n looked at the woman in front of her again, gazed upon her face and took in her features, she realized.

“You’re the woman from my dreams,” y/n whispered, hesitantly reaching to touch the woman’s face in front of her in fear that she’d disappear just like the dreams. But when y/n rested her hands on her cheeks, tears immediately began to fall. “Cordelia.”

“I never stopped looking for you,” the woman whispered, her own tears shedding. “Never stopped thinking of you. You were my whole world, my sweet little witch.”

“I... I see your face every night,” y/n sniffled, a sad smile on her face. “I always felt like a part of me was missing and now I... I’ve found it.”

“Okay, this is sweet and all,” Madison interrupted, “but we have serious issues to discuss. Like how to defeat Michael, for instance.”

“Defeat him? I don’t want to defeat him,” Mallory stuttered.

“Leave me out of it,” Dinah butted, chiming in for the first time since being raised from the dead. “I haven’t promised anything, I haven’t signed any contracts, no disclaimers, nothing. I don’t owe you anything and I’m not here to defeat anyone.”

“Yeah right, as if you could ever defeat anyone with your backwards voodoo shit,” Madison scoffed.

“How can any of you defeat me when I’ve already won?” A voice boomed, and all women turned to see Michael at the top of the stairs smiling smugly, accompanied by his right hand Miss Mead. His arrogant demeanor faltered slightly when he saw his bride standing beside the woman he loathed the most.

“Y/N,” Michael cooed gently. “My beloved, step away from that woman right now.”

“N-No,” y/n protested, nervously clinging to Cordelia’s arm for support.

“No?” Michael repeated, his patience already growing thin. He scoffed. “Little lamb, you know not to disobey me. Now come here right now.”

“Fuck you,” y/n spat, and it felt good. No longer did he have total control over her mind, body, and soul, no longer could he manipulate and degrade her, punish and use her. She didn’t feel like kissing the ground he walked anymore, didn’t feel like pleasing him, and she didn’t feel like submitting to him anymore. His spell had been broken. Michael Langdon no longer had control over y/n. “I’m staying right here with my sisters, the ones you took away from me.”

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, dearest y/n,” Michael spat, venom in his voice as he uttered her name, “but you don’t have a choice. Have you seen the state of the world? I’m the only one who can provide for you.”

“The state of the world is almost as bad as your dinner jacket,” Myrtle retaliated, “but at least the world can be saved.”

“By you?” Michael teased.

“By all of us,” Cordelia declared, hand reaching for y/n’s in solidarity.

“Hey, get the wax out of your ears, I’m here to watch,” Dinah reminded.

“Well I’m not,” Coco huffed, marching towards Michael but faltering slightly under his menacing gaze. “Just don’t let me die again okay? The first time really sucked.”

And y/n, still trying to keep up with her new surroundings and new findings, held her head high despite how hot Michael’s burning gaze felt against her skin. He’d taken everything away from her, hidden her true self and turned her into his little pet, taken advantage of everything she was.

Not anymore.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

tag list: @ticklish-leafy-plant @gx-nji @anacerta @bluebirdbts @heda-mikaelson @redlovett @fuck-yeah-bruno-buccerati @ateliefloresdaprimavera @quechulitaaa @theeonlyroman

[lyrazehedgieboiii]

Maybe prompt number 25 it sounds very sincere to the heart

Rated M b/c of cussing, and mentions of sexual activity.

Prompt 25- “Do you realize how much I love you?”

Modern Sonamy oneshot. This is for you, Anon! Whomever you may be~

Amy was walking home after a long day (of getting kidnapped) and started breaking down. After a few minutes of sobbing, she heard an innocent voice call out to her.

   “Ms. Amy? Why are you crying?” Amy looked up to see ten year old Cream, with her chao, Cheese. She changed her outfit to something a little more conservative. She wore an orange sweater dress in the winter, along with black leggings like Amy did. Amy had a similar sweater dress, except it was a turtle-neck, and it was a little tighter around the waist. Amy wiped away her tears and smiled.

 “I’m fine, Cream.” Her voice cracked. Now Cream definitely knew something was wrong. Amy’s sweet, melodious never cracked.

    “Stop lying, Ms. Amy. I’m going to call Ms. Rouge, Ms. Blaze, and Ms. Lyra. They’ll know what happened.” She called the following girls on her phone. She had it in case of emergencies. Clearly this is one.

     “Hi, Cream. What do you mean? WHAT?! I’m on my way, Rouge is with me, I’ll get Blaze. Just get her home.”

     “Hi Ms. Lyra. Amy’s crying for some reason. I don’t know, she just dropped on the floor and started crying. Okay, see you later.” Cream ended the call, and helped Amy up, while giving her a hug.

-

   “It’s about Sonic, isn’t it. That no good, cowardly, piece of-” Rouge’s mouth was covered by Blaze because of Cream’s presence.

   “Cow pie. A stinking poop is what he is!” Cream exclaimed in anger. The girls all agreed at Cream’s comment. Amy sniffled.

   “W-why?! Why c-can’t he l-love m...me?! Is it the way I look?! I can change! I-I’d even dye my hair!” The girls all looked to each other. They all shook their heads.

    “Amy...I-We, don’t think Sonic’s worth it. He keeps breaking your heart, no matter how much you do for him. He’s not even considerate. You deserve so much more better than that.” Blaze told Amy, as she cried in Blaze’s arms.

   “B-but, no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to fall for anyone else! And Sonic wouldn’t allow me to date other people.” Rouge looked puzzled. Lyra asked the question that Rouge was thinking.

   “What do you mean, Sonic won’t let you date other people?” Lyra brought her chair closer. She was sitting in the corner, writing about at least fifty different ways she could kill Sonic for breaking Amy’s heart.

    “Well, I can’t really explain it. Rouge, you know how you set me up on a blind date? Well, I was sitting with him, and suddenly Sonic came out of nowhere, and pulled me out of the cafe. He told me to stay away from other guys. Of course I was upset, so I told him to stop acting all overprotective, I can do whatever the hell I want, and he doesn’t listen, he just drops me off back here, and basically patrolled my house for the next few hours while I cried myself to sleep.” Amy said, her tears not scared of falling out.

    “That little shit!” Rouge yelled. Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

     “Oh! It must be my mom.” Cream ran to the door, and there stood her mother. She said ‘bye’ to everyone and left.

      “Okay, since I couldn’t say this in front of Cream, but, wanna go to the bar? It could get your mind of things!” Rouge literally started begging.

       “Fine. I guess that would help. Let’s go.” Amy was about to get up, but Rouge stopped her.

        “You’re not going anywhere in that. I brought some outfits, and we’re gonna wear them.” And with that, Rouge took out four skimpy outfits. Lyra had a poker face.

       “Ain’t no way in hell am I wearing that shit.” Rouge rolled her eyes. She took out a denim jacket, and handed it to her. They all put on their outfits in Amy’s room.

Amy was wearing a red silk strapless dress that hugged at her waist, she wore some bright red lipstick, but used a napkin to bring down the tone.

Blaze was wearing a purple spaghetti strapped deep sweetheart cut at her chest, and was wearing some lipgloss to make her lips sparkle.

Rouge was wearing a black strapless dress which ended about mid-thigh. The dress clenched at her waist. She wore deep red lipstick, and didn’t bother with the tone.

Lyra wore a white circle skirt dress, the skirt ending to her knees. She had a denim jacket on. She put on some lip balm, not really bothering putting on make-up. She sneaked her headphones and laptop, knowing that she’d need it later. The girls all took their purses and left in Rouge’s car.

- At The Bar

There was hip-hop music playing, lots of people everywhere, strangers getting all over each other, and some private booths for...you know...

   “Here we are~! Let’s go get something to drink!” Rouge drags the girls to the bar counter. She orders four cocktails (lol I’m too immature to drink and go to clubs) for the girls and they sit down in a couch that surrounds a circle table. After a while, Rouge sees a familiar red figure at the entrance. She stands up and waves, making the other three girls with her confused.

  “Rouge! What’re you doing here, babe?” Knuckles asked the bat as he, and his three friends, one being a specific hedgehog. Lyra signaled Rouge to huddle up as a group.

   “He’s here. With them.” Blaze said, her eyes wide open, gesturing to Amy and wanting her to be happy.

   “I want her to be happy and forget all about that asshole. The only way to do that is to keep him away from her! She’s suffering through heartbreak.” Lyra bluntly stated. The boys, being the idiots they are, decided to try and eavesdrop on their conversation. They heard something about her heartbreak. Everyone looked at Shadow, seeing he was the womanizer.

   “I haven’t been playing with any girls, honest.” Shadow said emotionlessly. The boys turned to Sonic. He looked confused.

   “What did I do?” Was all he asked. Knuckles face-palmed, Silver was making an ‘Are you fucking kidding me?!’ look, and Shadow just rolled his eyes, looking like he doesn’t give a fuck, but cares for his self-proclaimed little sister’s wellbeing. “No, seriously, I don’t understand, what did I do?” He dared to ask.

  “You’re off breaking hearts, like normal.” Silver muttered. Sonic got even more puzzled. Silver sighed. “You hurt little Amy’s heart, Sonic. The little cinnamon roll doesn’t deserve this. We all know you like her, you ain’t fooling anyone.” Silver was right, but Sonic’s ego didn’t want to admit that.

  “He’s right, Sonic. Ya’ know, she’s been having suicidal thoughts lately.” Lyra lied. Lyra was right tho-WAIT, WHAT WAS SHE DOING IN THIS CONVERSATION?!

 “Pegs, this is a boy conversation, stay out of it.” Shadow told Lyra. She muttered some profanities at him, and he only smirked.

 “PEGS? What the hell are you doing to my sister?! Why the hell have you given her a name that doesn’t even suit her and doesn’t even relate to her?!”

  “Relax, Faker. Let your sister date whoever she wants. She won’t let me flirt with her. Focus on your own girl.”

- WITH THE GIRLS~~~~~~~

 “Why don’t we hook you up with someone, hmm? I hear Shadow’s fre-”

 “Fuck no.” Lyra and Amy said simultaneously.

 “No offense, Rouge, but I don’t think I’m interested in dating or having a fling with anyone. My heart’s stuck with someone who could possibly be attracted to boys-” Amy’s comment was interrupted by a loud snort by Lyra.

 “What do you mean, could possibly be attracted to boys? I hope you’re not mistaking Silver as Sonic.” As Rouge said that, Blaze scowled at her friend. Rouge thought for a moment, not acknowledging the fact that Blaze was burning imaginary holes through her head. Rouge gasped and ran over to Knuckles and whispered something into his ear. He did a small nod to his girlfriend.

 “Oh, Shadow! Silver! There’s this new spirytus bottle that I’ve been dying to try out.” And with that, he dragged Shadow and Silver out of the scene.

 “Oh, I think we should do the same! Right Lyra, and Blaze? Amy, you stay here, I know you get a little tipsy you get after a strong drink. You even flirt with boys when you’re in that state.” That one comment made Sonic snap his head towards Amy. Amy mentally facepalmed. Sonic’s not happy. AT. ALL. Rouge dragged the two away from the oblivious hedgehogs.

  “So...you’re sixteen, and you’re drinking. And it’s obviously not your first time. Am I right.” Amy stayed silent. She just wanted to melt into the ground, not wanting to listen to the useless shit that the guy who ruined her life was spitting out.

  “Why do you always try to find other guys?” This really made Amy snap. She stood up, giving Sonic a chance to scan her figure very quickly without her realizing. No wonder he’s called the fastest thing alive, am I right? Amy gave herself a few minutes to regain her posture because she was a bit drunk.

 “Now listen here, y-you ass-napkin! I hate being treated like I’m not allowed to date other people, when I am. So, stop it. You have no right to tell me what I can or cannot do. Just don’t talk to me Sonic the Hedgehog. Stay away from me, and don’t talk to me.” She straightened out her posture, and before walking away, she said something that made Sonic truly feel like an ass-napkin. “Do you realize how much I love you?” A hand grabbed Amy’s waist, and pulled her to their chest. She tried squirming out, but the person wouldn’t budge. She took in the scent of the person, and stopped. It was Sonic.

He leaned down, and captured her lips in his own, even though she wasn’t kissing back. He kissed harder, and Amy had no choice but to give in. She decided to take advantage of the moment, and to take as much as she possibly could. In the background, Lyra and Rouge were fangirling, Blaze was recording a video, and the boys were silently cheering Sonic on.

    “The reason I keep you away from dating other boys is because I want to. Seeing you with other boys internally hurts me, that’s why I’m so protective of you. But, I’m too shy to confess my feelings to you. I just want to keep you safe.” Amy smirked.

   “You’re not shy, Mr. the Hedgehog. You’re just afraid it’ll cause a huge damage to that oversized ego of yours. Go choke on a peanut or something.” Lyra yelled “HEY!” at Amy because that was usually her line. “But, I no matter what I do, I just can’t get my mind off you. Frick that rhymes.” Amy looks over to the fourth wall, where the author is sitting. (”Sorry for that unintentional rhyme, I don’t want to change it.”)

    “Sorry Ames. I just love you too much to let you go. I want you to be mine, but...I just want to run, too.” Sonic put his head down. Amy rolled her eyes.

    “Enough with the cheesiness, Sonic. It’s soooo not you. First of all, it wasn’t so hard to confess, was it? Second of all, I won’t tie you down. All I want is for you to be happy, and I know that running makes you happy. So whenever you’re with me, and you feel like running, don’t hold it in. Just go.” Amy said calmly. Sonic grew excited and kissed her again. His confident signature smirk was back, and he looked down at his new girlfriend.

     “So, there’s no way I’m letting you get away with wearing that outfit, missy.” Sonic said smugly. He picked Amy up bridal style and ran to her house.

#sonamy 

[phaticserpent]

Playing with Fire

(Demigod! Reader X Ultron)

Summary: you are a child of Hephaestus, one day you create a device that can track metal that surfaced onto the earth. Instead of finding mounds of metal, you find something more complex. You find Ultron. You, being curious and excited, jump in to help him. The two of you soon find yourselves in love.

CHAPTER ONE

The night had arrived, but that didn’t stop you or your cabin members from welding and tinkering. The other campers didn’t complain, some had gotten use to the sound of metal. Of course the newcomers wouldn’t get much sleep and you all agreed to meddle with metal less when a new camper was admitted to the camp. You had been working on a project, something most of your cabin mates would complain about: finding metal. It was tough. Most of the metals were deep in the earth, far down from your reach. Hazel Levesque would offer to use her powers when she visited Camp Half Blood, but she would warn you that the metals were cursed. So all your cabin members decided to decline the offer politely, there were better ways to obtain metal. Such as your metal tracker, that would be able to find metal on the earth’s surface. This was your twentieth attempt in creating a metal tracker. You had prayed to your father, Hephaestus for some luck. Finally placing the last piece, you prayed to him and Lady Athena that you had gotten the math right, and pressed the power button. The screen brightened, which caused you to smile and you jumped up in victory.

“I did it! I made a metal tracker! Guys!” You shrieked as your siblings turned in disbelief. One of your older brother, Devin took the tracker from you and studied it.

“My gods you actually did it!” He exclaimed. “Good job [Y/N]!” Your other siblings took turns in congratulating you on your accomplishment.

“Thank you!” You had said to each of them. You stared at the screen, there was a red dot and a green dot. The red dot was you and the green dot was the metal, it had to be at least a few miles from here.

“It must be outside the camp borders.” Devin studied. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! I just need to pack, grab a few weapons.....Uh, if I don’t make it back, don’t come looking for me.”

“You really think we’re going to leave you?”

“No, but I’ll hide the metal tracker for you guys to find.”

“[Y/N]—“

“It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” You smiled. You grabbed a backpack, stuffing food and water. Your preferred weapon was a bow, but just in case, you took your throwing knives that you made when you first came to camp. You also stored a small bag to collect the metals. All your siblings huddled at the border, bidding you farewell. You smiled and disappeared into the forest with the tracker in one hand, and a knife in the other. You ultimately regretted traveling at night, as the dark forest didn’t ease your nerves at each sound. There were loud footsteps and the howling of hounds, hellhounds. You pushed the tracker into your sweater, taking an attack stance.

“Please help me!” A voice cried out as a small figure bounded towards you.

“Just keeping going straight and you’ll reach Camp Half Blood in a matter of minutes. Here’s a knife to defend yourself, I have more.” You smiled as the demigod thanked you and continued running. You shuffled through your backpack, but no knives. “Shit shit shit, I fucking left them on the table.” You realized. The howling got louder and you decided, fuck it. You ran directly at the hounds, and safely passed them. They all snarled as they shifted directions and focused on you.

“Shit shit shit shit!” You cursed, making your way out of the forest. “Dad! If you’re there, please help me! You don’t want your kid to die right? Right?” You could see the clearing of trees and prayed to Ares for better speed. From the shadows, two more hellhounds appeared. “Are you fucking kidding me!” You growled.

“Great, didn’t even make it through the forest.” You sighed. One of the hounds leaped at you, and you held out your hands even though it would’ve been pointless. No contact came, you peeked your eyes open to see the hound had turned to ashes. “What the....?” The other three growled and pounced, one took a bite of your leg as the other two attacked at the sides. Your hands erupted with flames and the hounds scrambled back in fear, even you had begun to scream. MY HANDS, ARE ON FIRE. IT’S PRETTY, BUT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?? The hounds retreated into the shadows, their growls fading away.

“Dad.....I need answers!” You shouted. “Did you.....did you give me firepower? Or did I have them all along?” You stared at your hands. Just get out of the forest! Your brain yelled and you dashed out of the trees and onto a road, which was barren. You stood there, utterly confused as to why you were outside of camp grounds, until you remembered the tracker. “Oh right! Metal. I really need to get my priorities in order.” You pulled out the device, staring at the screen. You had moved, but so did the metal.

“That’s precursor.....lets just hope the metal doesn’t belong to someone. That would be awkward.” You sighed and continued to follow the dot. You eventually reached the destination, which was an old factory. “Mm yes, not suspicious at all......I hope you aren’t leading me to my death.” You spoke to the tracker. Of course it did nothing. So you summoned all your courage and walked inside the factory. It was cold and obviously, dark. You stared at the screen as the dot got closer, and closer, and closer to you. You were about to look up, when you crashed into something.

“My gods, who put this wall here!” You exclaimed and glanced up. It wasn’t a wall. It was a robot. “Oh! I’m very sorry Mr. Robot.....I thought you were a wall. Well, that was my assumption because I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized. It stared at you and you stared back.

“Are you alive? Or am I talking to a dead robot?” You questioned. You studied the figure in front of you, a tall structure, with complex body parts that were more human than robotic......oh so an Android.

“Who are you. My sentries scanned this factory and there wasn’t anyone.....where did you come from?”

“Uh, nowhere....wow, you’re beautiful.” You examined. Okay [Y/N], pull yourself together. “So shiny. Can I touch you?” Gods, what the heck? Now I sound stupid and perverted. UghhHHHHHH!

“W-what?”

“What’s your name?”

“Ultron.”

“I’m [Y/N] [L/N]! Who built you?”

“Myself.”

“Wow! That’s amazing, for a second I thought my dad built you, but you’re too beautiful and advanced. No offense dad.”

“Who’s your dad?”

“Hephaestus, the god of machinery and blacksmith.”

“You’re a demigod?”

“Yup! You won’t tell anyone right?” You asked. “We’re kind of a secret to humanity.”

“Do you know Thor?”

“Who’s Thor?” You asked. Thor? Why does that name sound familiar? “Oh wait! Thor from the Norse stories! Yeah I know of him, I don’t know him personally.”

“I’ve met him.”

“Oh that’s nice!” You continued staring at Ultron. “The way you built yourself is amazing! I built this metal tracker, but it’s not much. Our family needed metal to build.” Ultron gently took the device from you, studying it.

“Quite amazing craftsmanship.” He commented. Your heart fluttered at the remark. “I think it’s really helpful in your case.”

“Thank you!” You grinned. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for the same reason as you, metal.”

“Oh cool! Then there’s metal here, strange, my tracker doesn’t pick up the other metals.....just you.” You shrugged. “What do you need metal for?”

“I need to build my army.”

“Could I help you build your army?”

“Wait, you’re a human. You don’t find it weird that I’m creating an army.”

“Is it my business? No. Do I care? Not really.” You shrugged. “But let me guess, you’re a villain that wants to take over the world. And some heroes want to stop you.”

“That’s a guess?”

“Oh please, I pieced it together the minute you mentioned Thor. Yeah, it took me a while to process who he was and why his name was so familiar. And demigods may not have a good source of information, but we talk. There’s hundreds of us out there, who are connected to the world more than others.” You mentioned. “So, take over the world or destroy it? Which villain are you?”

“I’m going to save it.”

“Good luck with that, this world is messed up.”

“So you admit it.”

“Yes, humans are nasty.”

“Perhaps not all. They’re interesting.” Ultron claimed, his eyes staring at you intently. “What makes you say humans are nasty?”

“Eh, I don’t hang around people much. Other than my siblings and other demigods, sometimes we go out in the city, but that’s when the world is in danger. Humans can’t fix anything by themselves, they make a mess and expect other people to clean up......I’m just use to a robotic companion more than a human companion.” You said. “Oh, and robots or machines are pretty straightforward......usually the simplistic ones. Humans lie. Humans betray. And humans manipulate others to get what they want. I’m....I’m just tired of people hurting others, but when they get hurt it’s like the end of the world. Playing the victim card.”

“You’re tired of humanity’s desolation, I understand. Which is why humans need change and I intend to bring it.”

[daichan795]

The Sight You See (Superhero AU)

Summary: Jonathan Voorhees has a very peculiar life. With juggling with his work as a server, keeping his identity as the infamous hero, Delirious, a secret, all the while trying to get his father out of solitary confinement; Jonathan really has his hands full. Not to mention suddenly having to deal with becoming the unofficial leader for a misfit of ex-villains. Luckily, he has help from an organisation of heroes led by the notorious hero, Vanoss, in keeping Los Santos safe. Too bad that the organisation hates Delirious with a passion. Add unnecessary feelings, secret identities, misunderstandings, and the fact that everyone keeps mistaking Delirious as a villain, and it’s a recipe for a disaster.

Chapter 1: Boring (also on AO3)

-

“Calling all available units: we have a Code 10 at Los Santos Jewelry mart located at 607 Commerce. Robbery. Suspects show to be extremely hostile and heavily armed. Reports indicate that there are three suspects, possibly all males. Two civilians are being held hostage. Law enforcement is already on the scene. Proceed with caution.” 

The sound of gunshots pierced the air as police cars surrounded the building, law enforcement already at the scene had their guns trained at the storefront, barking out orders to each other.

Inside the store, three men clad in all black barricaded the doors and windows. One of the men, wearing a dark grey ski mask, pointed his AK-47 at two women cowering in a corner. Next to him, the owner of the store lied dead, blood flowing profusely from a bullet wound on the forehead. He sneered at them, “Shut yer’ crying and stay put before I shoot ya.” 

The women only continued to cry, their throats hoarse as they begged for mercy. Annoyed, the man reached forward and snatched one of the women by their hair, her cries growing hysterical as he dragged her closer. “I said, shut up!” He growled, pressing the nuzzle harshly against her temple. Her cries dissolved to short heaves and hiccups, her cheeks drenched with tears. 

“Have the rats done well with our demands?” he barked, training his gaze at the other two men stuffing jewels and cash in large duffle bags. 

“Not yet, boss,” one replied once he finished zipping up one of the bags. The other helped stack the duffle bags near the entrance, careful to keep an eye on the other woman crouched low to the ground, whimpering. 

The boss bared his teeth, “slimy rats! Can’t follow simple directions.” 

The woman clutched in his grip began to cry once more as he drags her to the front of the shop, uncaring when her knees scraped harshly on the floor after losing her footing. With a grunt, he thrusts her forward, her face slamming painfully against the glass window. 

He smiled at the immediate response of the police. They stepped forward, guns held high. But they didn’t dare come any closer, knowing full well that the woman pressed against the window was a warning. 

“Listen her’, if ya don’t have a car ready for us, this pretty thing will have her brains plastered all over the walls. Got it?!” He screamed, and with the way the police force expressions darken, he knew they heard him.

Behind him, the two goons continued to loot the store. With smiles on their faces, they talked of their future riches, eyes clouded with greed. Plans of escaping to another country, buying expensive houses and cars; one mention taking his family with him to live a better life. The boss’ lips curled in disgust as the two goons talked, snarling when the woman beneath him continued to whimper and cry. 

“Alright, boss!” one yelled, “the bags are all filled. I think we’re done here.” 

“About time,” the boss snaps, “you lot are so fucking useless.” 

The two flinched at the words but they managed to collect themselves. “Sorry, boss. But, we manage to get everything done! Now, all we have to do is wait for the car they promise and we’ll be home free.” 

“But, how are well going to escape with both the bags and the hostages?” One asked, motioning to the woman still crouching low to the ground. 

The boss growls once more, throwing the women in his grasp towards the other hostage. He watched as the two quickly crawled to each other’s arms, tucking their faces in the other’s neck as they cried. 

Disgusting. 

He takes a step forward, pleased with the way they cowered. “I changed my mind,” he suddenly spoke, tone light. The two goons look up in surprise when their boss straighten up, a smile present on his face. 

“I want you to kill them. They’re useless to me.” 

“W-What?” the goon on the left replied, shocked. “But, boss, we need the hostages to escape! They’re the reason why the rats haven’t storm us!” The other tried to reason, taking a short peek out the window. 

Outside, policemen were frantically talking on walkie-talkies as they barked out orders. A row of weapons of every kind were trained unforgivingly at the store. At this point, the group was surrounded. They would lose their immunity card if anything were to happen to their hostages. 

“Think about this carefully!” 

The boss ignored their words and cocks his gun towards the two hostages. The moment they notice the weapon, the two wept harder, their skin pale from how tightly they gripped each other. The smile on his face was purely sadistic, absolutely gleeful at the blubbering mess the two became beneath his feet. 

However, the smile dropped completely when the two thugs suddenly appeared in front of his vision. One covered the two hostages with his body while the other held his gaze with the boss, arms trembling in fear. “Y-You need to snap out of it, boss! Think about what you’re doing. You could jeopardize your whole plan, our lives are at stake!” 

The boss took a step to the side, gazing back at the two thugs curiously. 

“Please, let’s just get out of here. I can have one of my guys get us a car, we can-” 

The words were interrupted by a loud bang, followed by a choked gasp. The sound rang hollowly in the air. The man watched in horror as his partner slumped to the floor, his body rolling till it tapped lifelessly against his feet. The two women behind him shook harder as a terrified shriek left their raw throats at the sight of the dead body mere inches from their huddled forms. 

“Worms like you shouldn’t talk,” the boss replied calmly, kicking the lifeless body to the side. Satisfied with his work, he turns towards his victims, gun raised. “Now there are only three more worms to take care of…” 

The thug raised his arms, subconsciously using his body to shield the hostages, “w-wait, please! You can take all of it, it’s yours! I’ll even help you sneak it out, so please?” 

His pleas fell on deaf ears as the boss cocked the gun, the same sadistic smile curling on his lips. 

“Die.” 

“Die? Wow, that sounds like fun!” 

The boss whipped around and shoots at the direction of the voice, snarling. But, the bullets met pure air. Instead, his gun is suddenly retched from his hand, skidding harshly on the tiled floor. A large knife was embedded firmly next to the trigger. 

The boss was pulled from his shock when a thump was heard beside him, the cold steel of a knife pressed below his chin. 

“For a bad guy, you don’t really know how to shoot,” the voice from before cackles, swirling the knife teasingly along his chin. 

The boss grits his teeth, face colouring with fury. He swings his fist back with a roar, only to cry out in shock from the blossoming pain on his left shoulder. The newcomer tsked at the move, twisting the knife in the man’s shoulder viciously before yanking the blade from it’s captive, scoffing at the shrieks spilling from the man’s mouth. 

The thug behind them tried to use this distraction to make a run for it, but freezes in mid-step when a knife flies past him and embedded itself against the wall. 

“Wait your turn, please! Delirious is a little busy,” the new person sang out, and the thug turns around. Their gaze meets, lights of blue blazing from behind a white hockey mask, “be a good boy and stay there,” ‘Delirious’ says with a laugh, gripping the boss’ head before smashing it onto the ground. 

“Now…” Delirious sings, yanking the leader from their hair until he was at eye level. 

The boss could barely keep their eyes open, purple bruises already forming around his face. “Please…” they whispered, voice raw from screaming in pain, “have mercy…” 

Delirious hummed, blue orbs of light scanning the room. 

“Mercy?” Delirious asked, leaning forward so his forehead was pressed against the boss’, the latter shuddering at the cold feeling of the mask against their torn skin. The newcomer stared for a long moment, the intense gaze powerful and unforgiving. It was searching for something, something the man couldn’t even begin to fathom. His stomach plummeted, however, when those blue orbs of light disappeared and the boss could only gaze into a void of darkness. 

“Why would I give you that? Mercy would be wasted on someone like you. People like you won’t ever change.” 

The knife between Delirious’ fingers glinted in the poor lighting. 

“Close your eyes, ma’ams. It’s going to get ugly.” 

“No, wait-!” Whatever could have been said spluttered into sickening gurgles as Delirious thrust the blade from below his chin, the point coming out cleanly through the top of the man’s head. The thug closed his eyes as the hostages screamed once more, fear rooting him to the floor. A thump was heard a second after. 

He was next, oh fuck, he was next. 

The sound of footsteps made him snap his head up, hands raised in surrender. He tried to step back, but his knees buckle from fear and he crashes to the ground. When he regains control, the mysterious person stood before him, crouched low so they could peer into each other’s eyes. For the thug, he could only see those little orbs of light, shining brightly against the dark space of the mask. “P-Please, don’t hurt me…” he pleaded, his voice only coming out as a whisper. 

He could feel the hostages trembling next to him, their eyes wide with fear. 

Delirious inspects him the same way he had done to his ‘boss’, intense and captivating. However, unlike the fate of his boss, those glowing blue orbs stayed. 

“...You still have hope,” Delirious replied in wonder, standing back up, “you normally wouldn’t have done this sort of thing if you weren’t desperate, right?” 

The thug couldn’t understand what the other was talking about but all he cared about that he was still alive. 

“So!” Delirious continued with a twirl, startling the goon, “if you want to be a better person, you should definitely go turn yourself in. You would like prison! They’re not as bad as you think.” 

The thug was stunned, “y-you’re letting me go?” 

Delirious hummed, “yeah! Well, only if you promise to do your time and reform. You helped keep these ladies safe so I hope your time goes fast!” 

The thug, realising that he wasn’t going to be killed, jumped to his feet and quickly pushes the bags of loot towards Delirious. “Y-Yes, I promise! I won’t do this ever again, I swear!” 

Delirious grinned, “good! As Los Santos’ best hero, I wish you a brighter future. Be good for now on, kay?” 

Before the goon could nod, the police barged into the store, demands clear. “Get down on the ground!” 

“Oh shit,” Delirious replied rather calmly, quickly snatching his knife back from the wall, “time to go!” 

The police opened fire the moment they spotted Delirious but the mysterious man was too quick. He used the counter to leap up into the air and used the momentum to propel himself into an open air vent. An almost psychotic and childish laugh echoed mockingly in the air, only growing louder with each shot of the police’s weapons.

“DELIRIOUS!” Policemen screamed out in frustration, guns finally lowering after they were sure the damn bastard got away. 

After the shots finally stopped, the hostages quickly fled from their hiding spot and crashed into the policemen open arms, sobbing violently. The remaining thug fell to his knees, hands in the air. He was quickly taken into custody, the officers slightly surprised when the man didn’t put up a fight. 

Once the perpetrator was escorted out and the hostages were safely being treated, the remaining police force surveyed the scene. 

“The damn trash got away again,” a police officer grunted, clearly frustrated. 

“Heh, he always does,” another voice states. Some of the officers present quickly straighten their posture while the others narrowed their eyes in distaste as the owner of the voice strolled in. 

“Chief, what brings you here? I thought you had another case?” an officer politely asked, furrowing their brow when their partner grunted rudely. 

However, the chief didn’t seem bothered by the blatant disrespect, “Ah, I do. But, I had a feeling I should come here myself.” 

The Chief takes a look at the scene, his long trench coat fluttering lightly from the small breeze. 

Three people were dead. One from a bullet wound to the forehead, another from the eye, and the last one from a puncture wound beginning from the chin and ending at the crown of the head. The Chief chuckled lowly, reaching up to take off his two-coloured glasses, one side red and the other blue. 

“And I was right. Delirious never disappoints…” 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

“I’m going to be late, I’m going to be late,” one Jonathan Voorhees chanted, skidding into an abandoned alleyway before sprinting down the narrow path. He quickly ducks behind a dumpster and takes a peak, chest heaving as he took a moment to catch his breath. 

Save for the random people walking by, the streets were barren. 

Once he was sure no one is following him, he sits down and leans against the dumpster with a sigh. He had been lucky that most of the police force were preoccupied with a larger incident downtown, all their units were split between both locations. While there was still an impressive amount of officers at the jewelry store, the confusion and lack of forces allowed Jonathan a cleaner escape. 

He should count his blessings, usually he had to dodge both the police force and their barrage of bullets. 

“For being all about peace, they really want me dead,” Jonathan grumbled, wiping away stray gunpowder from his clothing. After one more check that the close was clear, he quickly shoots up to his feet and opens up the empty dumpster. With a laugh, he dives right in, the lid shutting close behind him with a semi-loud bang. The inside was fairly clean save for the occasional stray wrapper or mysterious stain, so Jonathan had no problem with sitting on the floor of the dumpster. 

He pressed his palm on the right wall of the dumpster and widens his fingers. A short click was heard and a string of light appeared beneath his palm, slowly tracing his hand. Once complete, the light pulsed once before another click was heard. Jonathan took off his hand and made himself comfortable. 

Then, the floor beneath him disappeared, and Jonathan fell through. 

Giggles erupt from his throat as he slid down a long passageway, his body doing small loopy-loops from how windy the slide was. “Weeeeeee-” he couldn’t help squealing, using his arms to control his momentum. A few seconds later, the passageway brightened with light and Jonathan suddenly slid into the air. 

“Cartooooooonz~!” He screamed with a laugh, tucking his knees to his chest and spinning in the air. Gravity kicks in and he soon plummets to the ground. Instead of meeting the unforgiving floor, however, he lands in a firm, warm embrace. 

“Oof,” a deep voice grunts, and Jonathan feels muscular arms tighten around him. 

“You do know that we have a safety pad for you to land on, right?” Luke ‘Cartoonz’ Patterson, the owner of said muscular arms, said. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jonathan replied cheekily as Luke gently settled him down on the ground. 

Luke huffed softly, leaning back so he could take a look at him. “You’re getting better at not having blood all over you,” he said, eyeing the trail of blood soaking caked on Jonathan’s left sleeve, “usually you’re covered in it. “ 

“Luckily, I only had to deal with one person this time,” Jonathan replied before shrugging off his superhero ‘outfit,’ a light blue jacket and a dusted grey hockey mask with little red triangles on the top and sides of the mask. He handed his jacket to Luke, who took it with a sigh. 

“Why I always gotta be washing yo’ damn clothes?” 

“Because when I do it, you complain that I’m doing it wrong!” Jonathan retorted, reaching to the side of the slide entrance where multiple jackets identical to the one in Luke’s hand hung on a rack. He took one off the rack and slung it over his shoulder, his hockey still in hand. “Got anything for me, Cartoonz?” he asked Luke. 

Luke shook his head, “nah, I’ve been monitoring the situation since you left. The incident downtown has already taken care of so we don’t have to intervene. And the police are still cleaning up the jewelry store robbery. The goods news is that both culprits of these incidents have been captured, or in your case, dealt with.” 

The two walked to the front of the room where three large screens hung above them, the wiring all connected to a light-up keyboard and multiple control panels beneath the screens. 

“The downtown incident was a bomb scare so I was going to head over there as back-up while you dealt with the robbery. But, those assholes took care of it.” The screen in front of them lit up with a click of a mouse and Jonathan looked up as a news station popped into view. The station was currently playing a recorded video of seven individuals clad in superhero costumes fighting a very stereotypical looking villain all dressed in black. 

Jonathan crossed his arms and pursed his lips. He could recognise those heroes anywhere. Those seven heroes made up the greatest superhero team, they are Los Santos’ greatest defense against evil and chaos. Team Seven, that’s what they were called (the government had given them that name when they were first introduced to the public, and as you can tell, the government were not very creative). Having them around had sharpened up the drugged and crime-filled streets of Los Santos for the better. Jonathan was slightly grateful to have them around, it made his hero work less tiresome. 

However, he was more than positive that Team Seven couldn’t say the same for him. 

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders, albeit half-heartedly, “at least you didn’t have to drive all the way there. I heard traffic was insane.” 

Luke scoffed, “I would have made it with my powers.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure seeing a red demon flying over their heads wouldn’t cause a panic.” 

“Not if they weren’t pussies.” 

Jonathan snickered quietly to himself as the news station continued to play the video feed. The two were well acquainted with what has happened after listening to police radios all day. They were sure they knew more about those incidents than the blond, suit-pressed man reporting the news. 

Jonathan crouched down below the desk and pulled out a pastel blue duffle bag with his foot, sliding both his mask and his jacket inside. Above him, Luke watched him curiously. “Huh? I thought you were visiting your dad. Why are you taking your stuff with you? Plan to patrol or something?” 

Jonathan zipped the bag closed, “it’s still pretty early. Who knows when I need to suit up again. I’ll just carry it in my car if I need it.” Once he said this, another news station pops on screen. 

“We are just getting word that the police will now be giving their public statements.” The scene changes to several policemen, including a few paramedics and a man dressed in a trench coat, standing behind a small wooden podium. “At around 3:45 p.m. two incidents at different locations occurred around the same time. One at Downtown, Los Santos at the Maze Bank Tower and the other at Los Santos Jewelry mart. The bank was a bomb threat while the jewelry store was an attempted robbery. As of right now, we are still investigating whether these two incidents are connected.” 

Luke fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Our police force on the scene of the Jewelry mart robbery have reported that there were four suspects involved.” 

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows. “Four? No, there were only three. This big guy and two other guys.” 

The policeman continued. 

“We have reasons to believe that the terrorist known as Delirious may have been involved with the incident. Eyewitness reports state that Delirious had came into the scene and killed two suspects as well as the owner of the store, probably out of greed. The last suspect and hostages were spared from the same fate after our brave officers barged into the scene and stopped the terrorist from completing his plan. While we managed to obtain the last suspect, Delirious has unfortunately escaped capture once more.” 

“HEY!” Jonathan immediately protested, “that’s bullshit, I only killed one of them! The big asshole killed the owner and his own guy before I even got there. I didn’t even touch the hostages! Lying sons’ bitches...” 

Jonathan grumbled his complaints under his breath while Luke sneered, “of course they would switch up the story to make themselves look good. Makes me sick.” Luke rubbed encouraging circles on Jonathan’s upper back, “at least the detective guy you like so much can see through the bullshit as well.” 

Luke pointed up at the screen where the policemen have moved on to answering questions to reporters. There, the man in the trench coat and multi-coloured glasses was rolling his eyes during the entire thing. 

Jonathan instantly smiled, “Smitty! Yeah, he’s so cool! He always knows where I’m going to be but he doesn’t do anything about it. I think he’s the only one there who really knows what’s going on.” 

Smitty, chief detective of Los Santos Police Department (LSPD), has been tracking down Delirious since the first time Jonathan had started his hero work. From the handful of times that Jonathan had interacted with man, he has learned that eccentric detective was way too cool to be working for the police force. Despite his friendly attitude and soft appearance, Jonathan has learned not to underestimate him. 

On the screen, the microphones managed to pick up Smitty verbally snorting at the rather robotic and scripted answers his fellow officers gave to the shouting reporters crowding the small podium. 

Jonathan laughs, “Smitty always knows what’s going on. Seriously, do you know how many times I want to shit myself when he comes into the shop to order coffee? My hand shakes so bad when I give him his order, I’m surprised I haven’t dropped it on him yet.” He shuddered at the memory. 

Smitty usually visits his workplace as a waiter at the evening time when the shop isn’t so busy. He wears more casual clothing during those outings, his trademark glasses nowhere to be seen, and orders the same drink save for the occasional pastry or treat. If he didn’t know that Smitty couldn’t recognise him in his civilian clothing, he was sure he would quit on the spot and hide the moment the man first appeared. Luckily, Smitty was chill even as a civilian. He politely ordered his food and treated Jonathan with respect every time they saw each other (something that sometimes wasn’t usually given to waiters like him). Even if Smitty worked for the police force, Jonathan can’t help but respect him. 

Suddenly, the reporters began to scream louder. “And now, we have a few members of Team Seven here to report their side of these events.”  

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Luke mocked, turning the volume up. Jonathan crouched down to fix his shoelaces, peering up at the screen with a frown as four individuals appeared in front of the podium. 

“Representing Team Seven, we have their leader, Vanoss, and his teammates: Early Bird, WrktheBoyWonder, and BigJigglyPanda.” 

‘Vanoss’ (a tall man dressed in all black with yellow straps around his torso, a yellow owl symbol right in the middle of his chest) stepped up to the podium. Despite the owl mask covering his face, you can tell he was incredibly uncomfortable. “Uhh, well first off, we’re sorry that we arrived late to the jewelry mart robbery. The bomb threat took most of our priority and power to neutralise the perpetrator. Luckily, the police force managed to deal with the incident at the jewelry and for that, Team Seven thanks you.” 

The response makes Luke snort, “what utter shit. They probably didn’t think the robbery was important enough to show up. They couldn’t even bother having their whole team with them. Honestly, what low-level villain needs seven super-powered heroes to be stopped?” 

Jonathan didn’t respond, eyes glued to the screen. Vanoss stepped down after hastily finishing his report and graciously allowed the heroes began to tell their side of the report. Unfortunately, the reporters and cameras kept their focus on Vanoss the whole time, successfully cutting off the other heroes from getting a word in. Jonathan could feel their frustration from here. Vanoss did his best to answer all the questions firing his way, confusion and annoyance colouring his tone. 

“The media sucks,” he simply stated, finally taking his eyes off the news. He would like to know more but he needed to be somewhere. “I’ll be gone for an hour, maybe two. Call me if anything comes up!” He tells Luke, swinging the duffle bag over his shoulders. 

Luke nodded, expression turning soft, “don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything while you’re gone. Tell me how it goes when you get back.” 

“I will,” Jonathan says, giving Luke a finger salute. 

He returned to where the slide ended and pressed his palm to the side of it. There, the wall in front of him split open and revealed a small space just big enough to fit one person. With a final wave, Jonathan stepped inside the space. He adjusted the strap on his shoulders and squared his shoulders. 

In a flash, a powerful suction engulfed the space, propelling his body up in the air. His hair swept gently on his forehead and eyes from the speed of his ascend but it didn’t bother him. A few seconds later, his ascend stopped just beneath the dumpster floor. He quickly pressed his palm above him, grinning when the floor opened up for him. He lifted his body and pushed open the lid of the dumpster, popping his head out with a laugh. 

A few feet away from him, a wandering homeless woman spots him. “Ah, Jonathan, I thought you would have found yourself a new home by now. A nice working boy like you shouldn’t be living in a trash heap like this,” she said kindly as Jonathan hopped out of the dumpster. She offered him a piece of bread but he politely declined. 

“Don’t worry about me, ma’am. I’m perfectly fine where I am,” he replied, patting the side of the dumpster. 

The woman tutted, “asking an old woman not to worry. Ridiculous.” 

They both shared a laugh. 

“On your way to work?” She asked. 

Jonathan shook his head, “a visit, actually. Maybe to the cleaners as well.” 

She hummed, “better go to the cleaners down the street. One of their machines isn't working properly. It’s mistaking pebbles as coins. Better hop over there before the nasty owner realises what’s going on.” 

Jonathan smiled, “thank you. I will. Take care of yourself, ma’am.” 

She laughed, “I should be saying that to you.” 

“It’s okay,” he replied, running his free hand over his duffle bag, “I can take care of myself.” 

OoOoOoOoOoOo 

//Now entering: Vanoss. Early Bird. WrktheBoyWonder. BigJigglyPanda.// 

A robotic voice announced as four exhausted heroes entered their base. Two of them looked up the ceiling in disgust. 

“I really hate that damn voice,” Marcel ‘WrktheBoyWonder’ stated, flopping down on the couches stuffed in the corner of the room. 

“I never thought I would hate a voice so much. And I work with self-entitled bastards who like to talk about themselves all the time,” Anthony ‘BigJigglyPanda’ grumbled. 

“Evan already tried to convince the engineers to change it but they ignored him. If they won’t listen to him, then they definitely won’t listen to us,” Brock ‘Early Bird’ sighed, offering the last person to enter a water bottle. 

“They won’t listen to the Vanoss? Damn, we’re going to be stuck with this robotic bitch forever,” Marcel moaned, stuffing his face into the couch cushion. 

Evan shrugged his shoulders helplessly, “I told them the announcement thing was unnecessary but they said that it was needed so other people who visit us will know who we are.” 

Anthony scoffed, “people shouldn’t be visiting us in the first place. This is supposed to be our base.” 

“And if they want to know our names, they could, oh I don’t know, ask us?” Brock said incredulously, slipping his bald eagle mask off his face. 

Evan kept quiet as the others grumbled to themselves. While he knew that the robotic announcement genuinely annoyed them, it was not the root of the team’s foul mood. No, it was the incident with the robbery that has them all ruffled. 

The bomb threat at the Maze Bank Tower was no simple feat. The villain of the week had the entire place wired with bombs on every corner. Apparently, they had a vendetta with the owner of the bank. While the villain took no effort to take down, it took the entire team to locate and neutralise the bombs. Because of that, they heard too late about the robbery taking place. They were lucky that the police managed to handle the situation this time, but the ‘what ifs’ plagued their minds. 

It hurts more to know that the robbery took place on their own turf. To them, it was as if they couldn’t protect their own home from danger. The bomb threat took all their priority, thousands of people would have lost their lives if they didn’t stop it on time. But, that didn’t stop them from feeling a little bit regretful. 

“...Where are the others? Are they still at the bank?” Brock asked, trying to break the silence. 

“Scotty texted me a little while ago. They just finished disposing the bombs and making the reporters happy. They should be here any minute now,” Anthony answered. 

Marcel took off his hood and mask, grimacing from the feeling of sweat sticking onto his cheek. He wiped it away and set the mask down next to Brock’s, slightly grateful he didn’t have to wear a full face mask. 

Evan did the same with his owl mask, running his fingers through his sweaty long hair. “Anyone have a hair tie?” he asked, disappointed when the others shook his head. He dropped his hand with a sigh, a few strands of hair falling in front of his eyes. 

Then, the robotic voice returned. 

//Now entering: Wildcat. 407. Daithi De Nogla.// 

Everyone in the room turned to the entrance where the rest of their teammates finally arrived. They looked equally grumpy, their clothes slightly tattered. 

“Fucking bitch with his fucking bombs,” Tyler ‘Wildcat’ swore, throwing his helmet and pig mask on the table, “if Nogla didn’t use his sonic blast in time, the bitch would’ve blown the whole place up. With us in it.” 

“I almost messed up and hit one of the bombs instead,” David ‘Nogla’ admitted, accent slightly thick, “the guy kept runnin’ away.” 

“Hah, I would too if someone with a supercharged bat was trying to hit me,” Tyler said with a smirk, patting Scotty ‘407’ on the back. 

Scotty grinned, “he’s lucky I missed him. I would have had a villain barbeque.” 

Most of them groaned. 

“God, a barbeque sounds fucking delicious right now. I propose we go out and eat just that.” A chorus of agreement filled the room, the thought of food filled their mouths with saliva. 

However, before they could get up, the robotic voice came back. 

//Agents 53, 59, and 34 have requested access// 

“Access denied,” Tyler quickly hissed, he and the rest of the group quickly slipping back on their disguises. 

A minute later, multiple footsteps were heard. 

“I’m afraid that command is overruled,” a calm voice replied. The heroes stood tall as three agents and four police officers entered the room. The police officers dutifully stood to the side while the agents walked towards the group. Their presence irked the superheroes. 

“What can we do for you, gentlemen?” Brock asked politely, his smile tight. 

Agent 59 regarded him, sunglasses glinting. “We are sorry for coming unnoticed, but we were ordered to come here and congratulate you on a job well done.” 

“You were ‘ordered’ to congratulate us? Great, thanks for that. You can leave now,” Marcel dismissed with a wave of his hand. 

The agents didn’t budge. 

“We also came to brief you on what could have been done better in accordance with today’s performance.” 

The mood in the room turned sour. The officers in back shuffled their feet awkwardly, two of them pressed their hand above their weapon from how stifling the room became. 

“Yeah? Well, you can do that later. We still have things to clean up and people to save. Though, I’m sure you and your people can’t relate,” Tyler snapped, smirking under his mask at the way the agent’s lips smoothed out. Marcel and Scotty hid their snickers under their hands while the others laughed quietly under their masks. 

“We only wish to better your teamwork,” Agent 53 replied, adjusting their sunglasses, “as you are well aware, the government funds all of your equipment, as well as the technology powering some of your suits. We would hate to see all of that taken away should your work be less… satisfactory.” 

The snickering stopped. Not even their mask could hide their stormy expressions. 

“...Yes. We are aware,” Evan replied tightly. 

The agents nodded their heads, pleased. “Then we should continue with the briefing. Officers, if you please,” agent 34 stated, snapping the officers to attention. 

“Y-Yes, um, if you excuse me,” one officer stammered, walking towards them. 

The heroes shuffled closer and took their seats around a circular table, swirling their chairs around so they could face the officers and other occupants in the room. “Alright, ‘brief us.’” 

The officer took a few seconds to gather his bearings (he was standing in front of Los Santos greatest defense, his legs shook just by being near them). Then, he began the briefing, starting with the bomb threat. 

Brock, David, and Anthony did their best to look interested in the discussion, unlike the others who didn’t bother to hide their bored expressions and postures. No disrespect to the officer but they knew everything already. Tyler rolled his eyes when the briefing got to the moments of capture, “we were the ones who caught him. Of course we know about this, dipshits…” he muttered under his breath, shooting a glare at the agents standing arrogantly behind them. 

The discussion continued on, all the way to where Scotty, David, and Tyler talked with reporters on site. 

“You should really work on your mannerism. You are representatives of Los Santos, it shouldn’t be hard to have some class,” agent 34 reprimand Tyler, who crushed an empty water bottle in his fist at his words. 

“I don’t remember people etiquette being in the contract,” he replied rather calmly, making eye contact with the agents as he accurately threw the crushed bottle into a nearby trash bin, “so I can do and say as I fucking please.” 

The agents frowned. 

Luckily, the officer quickly stepped in. “A-Anyways, that is all for the bomb threat at Maze Bank Tower. My colleagues will now finish the briefing with the robbery at Jewelry mart.” 

At that, everyone straightened up. 

“Right, please continue,” Brock urged. 

The last two officers stepped up, one fully in uniform while the other wore a long trench coat. The one in uniform began to speak. 

“The robbery took place at the same time as the bomb threat, exactly 3:45 p.m. Three suspects came into the store in guise as paying customers. They then proceed to pull out their weapons and shoot at the display cases, scaring away most of the people in the store. However, they managed to capture two hostages, both of them females in their thirties. The women appeared to be buying friendship rings for each other before the attack happened.” 

“The two ladies were not friends, they were a couple. They were trying out wedding rings in hopes to marry each other in the fall,” the officer in the trench coat interrupted, features hard, “they told me themselves when I checked up on them.” 

The officer’s face immediately pinched in disgust. “They were friends,” he stated once again, making the man in the trench coat glare. 

Everyone in the room, excluding the agents, frowned. 

The officer continued, “because of the hostages, we could not get near the storefront. To make the situation worse, the villain known as Delirious made an appearance.” 

Evan jolted forward while the rest of the heroes raised their eyebrows in surprise. 

“Wait, really?” Scotty asked, leaning forward, “did he stop the attack?” 

The officer looked at him with a scandalised expression, “of course not! We have reasons to believe that he was the mastermind of the whole plan.” 

“And those reasons are…?” the man in the trench coat asked. 

The officer ignored him, “at 4:13 p.m. gunshots were heard. We charged forward, fearing that the suspects have hurt the hostages. To our horror, we found two of the suspects, including the owner of the store, dead. Delirious was hovering over the last suspect and the hostages, no doubt ready to strike them. We quickly took aim and fired, but the fiend was too quick and fled. Luckily, we were able to safely escort the hostages out and capture the last suspect.” 

The heroes soaked in the information, eyes narrowed. Evan especially took the information to heart, clenching his fist. Of course ‘Delirious’ was involved. That bastard has been showing up more and more these days causing trouble. From all the villains and people he had faced, he was the only one who he could never beat. 

Just thinking about him made his blood boil. 

The man in the trench coat suddenly sighed, making Evan snap to attention, “how many times do I have to tell everyone? The owner was dead before Delirious even got there and the death of the first suspect couldn’t have been him, Delirious doesn’t use guns as a weapon. Only the one with a puncture wound to the chin and head was his doing.” 

The officer next to him scowled, “how could you possibly know that, you weren’t there when this took place. What proof do you have?!” 

“Uhh, how about the footage from your body cam that shows the owner already dead on the floor before Delirious showed up? Or the analysis of the bullet wounds from the Forensic team that tells us exactly what time and what weapons were used to kill them? Or how about the confession we received from the surviving thug who admitted their boss was the one that killed both the owner and his partner in cold blood?” The other shot back, his multi-coloured glasses sliding down his nose from his sudden movement. 

“Enough,” Agent 53 spoke, “it does not matter whether he killed one or three. The does not change the fact that he did indeed kill someone.” 

The man in the trench coat scoffed,” and why is that a big deal? Come on boys, don’t act as if we haven’t killed someone now and then, not in the line of work that we do. Even your golden boys over there have gotten their hands dirty at one point.” 

The heroes straightened their backs in surprise at the sudden statement, a few even wincing at the bold words. 

All three agents stood tall, lips thin, “the difference is that this person is obviously acting on his own without thinking of the consequences. We have a system of punishment for a reason, none of these people receive justice if they are simply slaughtered.  I don’t see why you are even trying to justify a villain’s actions, officer.” 

The other simply grinned. 

Scotty rubbed at his temple before loudly standing up from his chair. He strolled to the end of the room, rudely pushing the agents out of the way, and sat back down on a comfy black chair in front of a very large screen. 

With a few licks of a keyboard the screen lights up and a blurry picture of a masked individual popped up, the blue glow of their eyes the only thing clearly visible in the obviously rushed photo. 

“We don’t know much about him. He only really came into our radar over a year ago. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was in the game longer than that,” Scotty states, zooming in on the photo, “as you can see, he’s a slippery motherfucker.” 

“We’ve tried many times to apprehend him, it,” Anthony remarks, frowning at the pixelated hockey mask adorning the mysterious man, “but I gotta give him credit. The man knows how to run.” He chuckled to himself, making the others crack a smile. 

“We’re not really sure what his true intentions are,” Brock continued off, “he appears to attack at random, usually where other villains and bad people are. He has killed multiple people since we took notice of him, including but not limited to political figures, mob bosses, sex traffickers, police officers, businessmen, government agents, and the occasional thug on the street.” 

Most of the people in the room whistled at the impressive list. 

“Heh, that doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Scotty replied with a shrug, unbothered by the withering glare from the policemen (minus the trench coat man) and the government agents in the room. 

The agents clear their throats, “this just proves how much of a menace this villain really is. We cannot have someone running in the streets doing anything that they deem fit. They are a danger to society.” Agent 59 tapped his finger, “we simply ask that if you encounter this fiend, apprehend him and see to it that he serves his time.” 

Evan crossed his arms, “We got it, we got it. We were already doing that in the first place.” 

Agent 53 nodded his head, “see to it, then. We expect great things from you, Vanoss. As the leader of Team Seven, you are responsible for the success of your team. I hope you will do well to show a good example to your sidekicks.” 

Several growls erupted in the room, you could almost feel the temperature drop. The muscles in Evan’s jaw clenched and he bared his teeth, “Team Seven doesn’t have a leader, we are all equals. And, for your information, my teammates are not sidekicks.” 

But his words held no value to the agents. They simply escorted themselves out of the room, the two officers quickly followed behind them. 

Only the man in the trench coat remained, though he looked uncomfortable. With numerous glares shooting his way he simply reached inside his coat pocket and took out a business card. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out your hair. Here, if you actually need someone competent in the force, give me a call.” He grins mischievously when the heroes gave him a confused look, glasses glinting when David took the card. 

But, his grin dropped when one of the officers barked out his name. 

“Smitty! Stop dragging your ass! You have a new assignment waiting at your desk, we don’t have all day.” 

Smitty pushed his glasses up his nose with a sigh. “I’m a goddamn chief, where’s the respect to my name?” he muttered, shooting the group of heroes a peace sign before jogging out the room, grumbling in irritation when the officer continued to shout at him. 

//All visitors have successfully left the building// 

The voice reported and everyone visibly relaxed, groaning.

“Never thought I would be taking orders from The Man,” Marcel lamented, once again sliding off the green eye mask from his face. 

“We have to if we want to keep our toys,” Scotty grumbled, running his finger delicately on the keyboard. 

Moods sour, the team quickly fixed their positions so they all faced each other, the table perfectly circular so no member was the head of the table. 

“Now that that’s out of the way… Scotty, can you please bring up the current activity of the city?” 

“On it.” Scotty swirled around to where the keyboard lied and typed away, his fingers a blur. In a few seconds, stats and numbers soon filled the screen alongside security cameras, news stations, recent villain profiles. They all carefully observed the screen, eyes darting for anything irregular. 

Everything appeared to be normal, most of the activity has calmed down from the high alert attack early that day. There were a few disturbances in some areas, like some purse snatching or gang fights, but surprisingly enough the police had that covered for them. 

“Anything?” Brock asked the group. 

Scotty hummed quietly, swinging his legs back and forth in his chair, “Nothing so far… but there is something suspicious.” 

“Suspicious? Where?” Evan asked, darting his eyes around the screen. 

“Not really on here, more like I’ve been suspicious of something for a while,” Scotty elaborated, returning to the keyboard when his team looked at him questioningly. “I’ve recently noticed that for some time now, a few villains have begun to slowly disappear from our radar. They haven’t been heard for a couple of weeks now, some dating back since two months ago.” 

David raised an eyebrow, “uhhh, shouldn’t that be good news? I mean, they’re not causing any trouble.” 

“Yeah, they probably decided to stop being evil or maybe the cops already got them,” Anthony added, resting his chin on his hand. 

“I thought that too at first! But…” Scotty scrolled through multiple files before scattering away the news reports and statistics from the screen. 

Before their eyes, four profiles popped up one by one, information and stats shuffling below the pictures. Evan squinted at the new information, eyes widening when he realised what they were. 

The first profile showed a side-view picture of man-monkey type hybrid wearing a red jacket and blue jeans. A long, brown tail was visible in the picture, and what was even more frightening, the tail seemed to have enough strength and control to hold a large gun. Mega Monkey.

The second profile showed a man in the midst of shooting what looked like a laser from his arms. It looked as if the man was made entirely out of robotic parts, a distinctive red glow could be seen in their right eye. Terroriser. 

The third picture shows a man with a black mask running away from an explosive, his hands glowed a faint orange colour. Strangely enough, random objects were floating around the man, the same orange glow emitting around them. Mad Ladd. 

The final profile was of a man dressed entirely in grey clothing crouched low between two buildings. He wore a long grey bandana that tied around his eyes, a bold omega symbol printed right in the middle of it. He looked the least dangerous out of the bunch, but what made him unnerving was that out of the others whose pictures were taken in a hurry, he was the only one facing directly at the camera, smiling lightly with his hand raised in a little wave. Ohmwrecker. 

Scotty grimaced, “...it’s these guys who we lost track of.” 

Everyone went rigid, a few swearing. 

These four were the foulest of the foul. They have done almost everything: robberies, drug chains, explosives, thievery, kidnappings; lives have been completely destroyed beyond repair all for their own amusement. 

“Shit, them?” Tyler swore, glaring harshly at the profiles, one of them in particular. 

“No wonder it has been so quiet…” Marcel realised, “we’ve only been getting the random villain of the week, none of the ‘top guns’ like these guys.” 

“That… is quite worrisome, actually,” Brock murmured, eyebrows furrowed, “why do you think they haven’t done anything?” 

“Whatever the reason, it can’t be good,” Evan said firmly, eyes trailing back to the profiles on the screen. 

“Scum like them don’t stay quiet for long, we need to be ready.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement. 

Scotty grins, smacking his hands on the table, “alright, that settles it. For now, we continue what we’ve been doing. Resume your daily schedules and report to each other if you find any information on these ‘missing’ villains. If the government wants results, we’ll give them damn results.” 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

No matter how many times he has been there, Jonathan is always mesmerised by the sheer mass of the prison facility. 

The building seemed to stretch for miles, large watchtowers looming above him menacingly with armed guards in every corner. The prison is located a few miles outside of Los Santos, the people they house too dangerous to be held near civilisation. The drive there was slightly difficult, Jonathan was stopped multiple times by roaming guards in rovers, asking him in gruff voices why he was there. By that point, he knew to carry around his papers, the same answer clear on his tongue. His car would probably curse him out with how many times he had to use the brake. 

But, he was finally there. 

He stepped up the main gate with a grin on his face, arms swinging childishly at his sides. “Hi Hi!” He yelled at the guards. The guards snapped their heads up, stoney expressions slowly melting away once they realise who it is. 

“Ahh, Jonathan. Back for your weekly visit?” A guard asked kindly, lowering his gun. 

“Yup!” Jonathan answered with a hop in his step, shifting into the standard position of his arms raised to his side as the guards began to check his person for any contraband or any suspicious objects. Jonathan knew the drill after coming there many times so he took the prodding and touching with an easy smile on his face, even sending one of the guards a wink when one of them got too close in touching his crotch. 

Once they deemed him safe, they stepped back. “Sorry, Jonathan. You know we have to,” the guard apologised, motioning for the guards above to open the gates. 

Jonathan waved his hand, “nah, it’s fine. Thanks.” 

The gate creaked open and Jonathan stepped inside. With several guards leading the way, he walked through the courtyard and into the actual building. He was met with multiple metal detectors, all of which he needed to strip down and walk through with his arms held to the side. It was a little bit overkill in his opinion but he understood why the guards were so cautious. The people held in those walls were not ones to underestimate. Jonathan had once witnessed during his past visits the guards having to gun down an escaping inmate and their accomplice who managed to sneak in a knife. 

So, he took the multiple metal detectors without complaint, shoulders relaxing after they finished off the final checking point. There, prison cells and prisoners finally came into view. 

As he and the guards passed the cells, prisoners and inmates of every kind came to their bars and greeted Jonathan with either a wave or a friendly smile. He has been there so many times that most of the inmates have begun to recognise him. Luckily, the ones there were the small fries. They were the people who were locked up due to petty crimes such as stealing, insubordination, shoplifting, trespassers, and at most, a few stabbings. So, Jonathan had no problem greeting them back, sometimes even going up to the cell and shaking some of the inmate’s hands despite some of the guard’s protest. 

However, the more he travelled deeper into the prison, the more dangerous and shady the prisoners began to be. Those inmates were kept heavily watched, guards patrolling each hall of cell rooms with a hand ready on their weapon. Even these inmates, who pride themselves of their crimes, greeted Jonathan as he passed, may it be a wave or a slight nod of acknowledgement. He was less friendly with these types, so he simply nodded back at them before continuing on his way. 

A few guards trailing behind him began to whisper amongst themselves, confusion evident in their tones. “Have you ever seen them act like this?” One asked, talking about the prisoners. 

The other shook their head, “never.” 

By that point, they were in the section where the baddest of the bad were locked up. There, the security was tightly kept, each cell had their own guard, weapons out and loaded. The prisoners there had tinier cells and fewer things in their rooms, but that didn’t seem to bother them, not with the way they rattled at their bars and taunted the guards with twisted smiles. However, like the rest of the prisoners, the moment they spot Jonathan their actions cease, and they acknowledge Jonathan with a tilt of their heads in a display of respect. If that’s what you can call it, that is. 

Jonathan paid them no attention, eyes pointed directly in front of him. If he gave them any attention, he might start analysing subconsciously and that could get him into trouble. He smiled to himself when the guards behind began to trail him far more closely than before, clearly alarmed by what they had seen. ‘They definitely must be new,’ Jonathan thought, because the other guards didn’t bat an eye to the prisoners’ odd behaviour. 

Those guards already knew why the prisoners there showed Jonathan any resemblance of respect. 

The group eventually reached a small corridor where a lone elevator was placed. They silently shuffled inside, the space tight with the number of people squished inside. Jonathan was pretty sure a gun was pressed dangerously against his waist. Thankfully, they reached their destination in mere moments and the doors slowly opened. There, they entered into a small room tucked at the corner made entirely out bulletproof walls and metal doors. The guard in front stepped up and pressed an intricate-looking key card before pressing their thumb on a finger scanner. The door slid open and Jonathan stepped inside, resting his hands in his sweater’s pockets. Two guards already in the room, swivelled around in their chairs, eyes hard. However, the suspicious stares quickly melted into little smiles once Jonathan laughed. 

“I’m back,” he greeted, accepting their handshakes. 

“Welcome back, Jonathan. We were anticipating your visit.” He takes a few steps into the room before he turned to the side where a large mirror took up the entire wall, features sobering. 

“Don’t worry, everything is set up and ready to go,” the guard on the chair states, she and her partner sitting up from their chairs, “you know what to do.” 

“Thank you,” he replied gratefully, eyes not leaving the mirror. 

“...Can I be alone?” 

“What? Of course not,” the guards who came with him immediately denied, tone incredulous, “you are to be supervised at all times during the duration of your stay-” 

“Of course, you may,” the female guard from before interrupts, motioning for her partner to follow, “we’ll be outside if you need us.” 

The other guard’s jaws drop, “What-? But, this is not in the protocol, he can’t-” 

“Jonathan Voorhees is a special case. Come, I’ll explain further outside,” she interrupted once more, holding her head high as if daring the other guards to defy her. Luckily, the guards were not fools and kept their mouths shut, dutifully following her and the others outside. 

“Remember, Jonathan. We can only offer you ten minutes by yourself, use your time wisely,” the female guard said kindly before leaving, the door sliding close with an audible click. 

Jonathan took a moment to stand there, basking in the quietness of the room, before taking a seat in front of the large mirror. There, a control panel and a microphone were placed neatly on a desk facing the mirror. He sets up the microphone where it comfortable rested near his lips and takes a deep breath.

 In front of him, behind that large mirror, was a barren room padded entirely from wall to wall. The only thing on those walls were four security cameras hanging in each corner, all facing directly towards the middle of the room. At the centre of that small space was a large man. He sat on a wooden chair, head hung low with a very familiar hockey mask securely tied onto his face. He seemed almost lifeless, like a statue. There was no movement at, neither an intake of air or twitch of a muscle. 

With a smile, Jonathan leaned forward and turned on the microphone. A loud ping emitted in the room. The man before him did not stir. Jonathan laughed quietly. 

“Hey, dad,” he starts off, tone soft, “I’m back.” 

As if a switch was flipped, the man in the room stirred. It was slow, as if the man was in a deep slumber, but eventually the man sat up straight, bones cracking into place as he did so. 

“...” 

Jonathan bit his lips, giggles slipping out beneath his teeth, “You okay in there?” 

The man raised his head, hockey mask hiding his expression. And yet, Jonathan knew his father was happy. 

“...Jonathan… You are back…” 

His father’s voice was deep and gruff, sounding more like a growl. 

“Of course I am, I promised you I was,” Jonathan said easily, making himself comfortable on the chair. “You’re looking good, I’m glad that they don’t have you tied up like last time,” he complimented, pleased with how plump his father was. It at least meant that they were feeding him well. 

“Hah… I was tied up before you arrived. I moved my arm and the restraints tore apart… You look good, as well.” 

Jonathan snorted, eyes twinkling, “Dad, how do you know that? You can’t see me. The mirror is only one-sided.” 

His father huffed, sounding as if he was angry. But Jonathan knew that sound meant his father was laughing. “I don’t need to see you to know that you look well… my son shines brighter than these blinding lights.” 

“Dad, that’s so cheesy,” Jonathan laughs, “Luke says hi, by the way.” 

“Luke…? Has he been taking care of you?” his father asked, tone dark. 

Jonathan giggled, “Of course, you know he does. I’m stuck with him for life.” 

“Very good… I don’t have to kill him then.” 

“Please don’t say that, dad. We don’t want the guards to hear you say that.” 

“Right…” 

His father tilts his head, the broken chains around his wrist rattling as he does so, and observes him. He knew his father couldn’t see him, but it made him feel better that his father searched for him, even if they were separated in far more ways than the room and mirror. 

His father speaks, low and quiet, “tell me, my son…” he lifts both hands towards his face, as if examining them, “...what is the sight you see…?” 

Jonathan fought the urge to sigh. 

His father asked him that question ever since he first visited him in solitary confinement. It came out of nowhere one day, voice low and thoughtful. He couldn’t understand it. Nonetheless, he answered, like he always did. 

“I see… I don’t know, I see you. Sitting there, alone…” 

The words felt heavy on his tongue, his heart panging. That’s really all he could see. 

His father sitting there in a padded room, alone with nothing but his thoughts. It’s… it’s scary to think about. Jonathan wanted nothing more than for his father to be out of there, to walk around, to see beyond those white walls. 

Jonathan wasn’t delusional into thinking his father could be free. His father is Jason Voorhees. The most famous, and perhaps the cruelest, person to ever walk the earth. Every villain paled in existence paled in comparison. No one has destroyed more, no one has killed more, than he has. He used to leave a river of blood in his wake, all done with his bare hands and a bloody machete. No one could stop him, not even the police or any superhero of his time. It was like God themselves couldn’t touch him. 

The reason why he was there, rotting away in those padded walls, was because he chose to be caught. And that… Jonathan could never understand why. 

His father hummed, lowering his head, “Is that all…?” 

Jonathan frowned, “Yes? I’m looking at you right now. That’s all I see.” ‘That’s all I’ll ever see,’ he thought bitterly. Yes, his father was a murder, the worst villain in existence. But, he knew his father was more than that. 

His reasons for his terrible deeds… Jonathan felt that he was justified for them. 

“That sight… it’s very boring, isn’t it?” his father asked. 

“That’s not the word I would use,” Jonathan replied with a frown, “you can never be boring.” 

“Hah… thank you.” 

They fell into silence, but it wasn’t awkward or forced. It was the kind of peace that made Jonathan appreciate the time he had with his father even if they didn’t speak. 

He pressed his hand against the glass, his own reflection appearing in front of him. His time was almost up. 

“I love you… take care of yourself and behave. Maybe… Maybe then they’ll let you roam around with the others in your own cell.” 

He could hope, can’t he? 

“Sending you lots of hugs from me and teddy bear,” he replied, lips curled in a soft smile. He giggled as his father’s shoulders shook, the rattle of the chains like thunder. 

“You still have that bear? I feel warm already…” With loud creaks, his father lifted his hand, reflecting Jonathan’s own. “Until next time. I hope the sight you see will be much greater than it has.” 

Jonathan tilts his head, eyebrows drawn low. 

“I hope so, too. Thanks.” he managed to say just as the metal door slid open and the female guard from before stepped inside. He lifts his finger from the microphone, eyes sad when the light turned off, the loud ping from before rang soon after. It hurt to see his father lowered his head completely, limbs maneuvering until they froze into place. Like a statue once more. 

“I am grateful when you come for your visits,” the guard admitted, resting her hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, “that’s the only way we know he’s still alive. Other than eating and going to the bathroom, he doesn’t move an inch.” 

Jonathan accepted her touch, sighing softly. He allowed her to gently guide him out the room, thoughts mulling inside his head. 

“It’s my first time seeing him,” a guard said, shuddering, “ he’s a monster.” 

Jonathan turned to them with a glare, effectively shutting them up. 

He allowed them to check his person once more (as if his father would somehow give him some contraband), staring unblinkingly at the guards. They finished the check with a grimace, patting his shoulders twice before stepping aside. 

“...Are you going to escort me out, now?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“...Right.” 

The way back down was silent save from the random chatter of the prisoners. It felt shorter though, like the guards couldn’t wait to kick him out. He couldn’t blame them, he would be cautious too if he witnessed the most dangerous man having a visit so casually. Jonathan had to jump through many hoops and legal people (and extremely annoying lawyer and agents) to gain permission to visit, even then he had to fight for the right to visit his father without being guarded by over twenty people wherever he went. 

They make it outside without a hitch and Jonathan stood near the gate, hands in his pocket. “...You know,” he said suddenly as the gate closed behind him. The guards who followed him out looked up, including the ones already outside. “there’s no such things as monsters. They don’t exist.” 

The guard from before scoffed, folding their arms, “no offense, kid. But, that thing locked away is not human. He’s the only proof I need to know monsters exist.” 

Jonathan laughed as he descended down the short steps to his car, making eye contact with the dumbfounded guard. “There are no such things as monsters,” he repeated, fishing out his keys, “so whatever you think my dad is, is farther than the truth. He’s completely human.” 

The guard spluttered. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re as crazy as your father. I can’t wait to see you locked up here in the future!” the guard sneered as Jonathan got into his car. 

Jonathan snickered when the pathetic guard got smacked by his fellow guards, scowls and harsh words on their tongue. It didn’t matter what they thought about him or his dad. 

No one’s opinions did. 

He put on his seatbelt and sighed, allowing himself to take a moment to come himself down. He reached back and placed the duffle bag in the passenger seat, careful not to open it in case the guards outside get suspicious. ‘Guess I’ll do some patrolling when I get back to Cartoonz’ he thought absentmindedly, buckling up the duffle bag with a grin. 

However, just as he pulled out of the parking lot (if you can call it that), his phone rang. He pulled his phone out with his left hand, blinking when Luke’s name flashed at him. He put the phone on speaker at set it on top of the duffle bag, not stupid enough to answer it while driving. “Hey, what’s up? Something happened?” 

“Sort of. We had a breach in our base.” 

“What?!” Jonathan screeched, swerving to the side. “Someone broke in?!” 

“Well…” Luke replied, pausing, “more like they tried to break in and failed, miserably. I have them here.” 

“Them? Oh god,” Jonathan groaned, “so why do you still have them? Shouldn’t you have gotten rid of them by now?” 

Another pause.

“They were chatty bastards… but I think you need to come down here and hear them out for yourself. You’d be surprised who I have tied up.”  

At that moment, Jonathan feels a strange sensation curl in his stomach. He’s not going to like this.

[httpjeon]

❝somethings not right❞ pjm ― m.

― summary:

you and jimin work to rid jungkook of the demon that possessed his body.

jimin/reader | possession!au, reader-interactive | angst, smut, fluff, humor | 5.4k ↬ content warnings: minor injuries, blood, comparisons to bad horror movies, hospitals, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), pet names, lots of kissing, unprotected sex

a/n: congratulations! you guys got the good end! several of you guessed right with a completely correct theory! it was really cool! i hope everyone enjoyed this little halloween special!

→ blog masterlist     → pt1

Staring at Jungkook for a moment, you watched the way his shoulders heaved in his anger. He wasn’t looking at you, only glaring at Jimin with his teeth clenched.

“J-Jimin, what do we do?” Your words caused Jungkook to bark out a laugh, making you flinch.

When did he become so aggressive?

“You’re taking his side, huh?” Jungkook snarled, clenching his fists by his sides. “So what’re you gonna do? You gonna take me down? Please, I could crush the both of you with one foot,”

“L-Let’s just run,” Jimin whispered to you while Jungkook continued to mutter and curse the both of you under his breath.

Ever so slowly, Jimin slipped his hand into yours and paused for 1...2...3 seconds before he squeezed.

That was the cue.

Taking Jungkook by surprise, the both of you took off to the door. He didn’t have time to react but by the time you and Jimin reached the stairs, the younger was thundering behind, fast on your heels.

“Go, go, go!” Jimin cried, almost tripping down the stairs in his panic if not for your tight grip on his hand.

“You can’t leave!” Jungkook screamed, practically causing the windows to shake at the volume.

You wrenched the door open, letting Jimin out first before taking off behind him. When you reached the end of the driveway, you both turned around to see Jungkook standing in the doorway, seemingly refusing to cross the threshold to the outside.

“W-What now?” You wheezed out, voice weak from panting, feeling your heart painfully pound in your chest as the adrenaline disappeared.

“I don’t know, actually, I’m fresh out of ideas…” Jimin panted, eyes on the house as Jungkook slipped back inside and shut the door. “Check back in 3-5 business days for the restock,”

“Now’s not the time to make jokes,” You whined, frowning at your friend who shrugged sheepishly in response.

“I joke when I’m nervous,  you know this,” Jimin whispered, now standing up straight and breathing evened out.

“We can go see Father Yoongi,” You offered.

“Or call Taehyung,” Jimin countered.

The both of you paused, staring at each other as you thought both options through.

“Both?” You said in unison, nodding in agreement before pulling out your phone.

“What if he’s not awake? It is...pretty late...or early?” Jimin asked, taking a glance up at the sky to see the moon was still high in the air and you realized you didn’t know how late it was.

“It’s...3:32 in the morning,” You muttered, shocked by the time. Through all the havoc, you really hadn’t realized it was so late.

“Why don’t we crash at Taehyung’s until the morning?” Jimin advised, to which you agreed.

Taehyung was relatively well-versed in the occult. You didn’t know how much he knew about demons but Jimin did say he had been in contact with the witch-lover through this ordeal.

Perhaps Taehyung could be useful.

Taehyung blinked blearily at the two of you as you sat on his living room floor around his glass coffee table. He had a blanket wrapped around him and yawns kept coming from his lips, infecting you and Jimin as well.

“How…” Taehyung started, voice still thick with sleep. “In the fuck...did you summon a demon?!”

“...A-Are you seriously asking how?” Jimin squeaked, looking terribly small beneath Taehyung’s heated stare.

“Of all the years I’ve been doing this, I have seriously never even come close to summoning a fucking demon!” Taehyung continued, ignoring Jimin’s question. “I’ve had bad spirits, sure,  but a demon?!”

“It’s name was O-”

“DON’T!” Taehyung slapped a hand over Jimin’s mouth so hard it made an audible slap, making even you flinch. That probably hurt. “Never...say a demon’s name.”

“Yeah...about that…” You caught both Taehyung and Jimin’s attention, breaking their heated glaring contest. “Father Yoongi said it would attach to whoever spoke the name but...if I remember correctly...Jimin spoke it but...Jungkook go possessed?”

“Hmm,” Taehyung looked pensive for a moment, biting his lip before speaking. “It could be that Jungkook was in a more fragile state of mind or somehow was more open to the possession than either of you.”

“I mean...we summoned it in his room,” Jimin mused, making Taehyung slap his hand on the table causing the both of you to jump.

“That’s it!” He cried, looking at the both of you with wide eyes. “It invaded his space! It probably started to affect him mentally as time went on until his psyche was too weak to fight off the possession!”

“Well that’s unsettling,” Jimin muttered while you felt a shiver crawl down your back from the idea.

“Can Father Yoongi help?” You asked, looking desperately to Taehyung who, once again, looked thoughtful.

“It’s possible,” He whispered. “I believe he has experience in exorcisms but I can’t promise you he will help even if he can,”

The three of you fell silent as you all thought about Taehyung’s words.

There was a possibility Father Yoongi could help. There was also a chance he could refuse to exorcise a demon.

Only one thing was certain; he was your only option to see at the moment.

The sun was just beginning to rise in the sky, peeking past the horizon and the three of you were up, sitting on the couch. You held your cellphone to your ear, listening to the ringing and praying that Father Yoongi was up and available.

“Hello?” The deep voice of the Father came through the speaker. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hell Father, this is _____, you came and blessed our house the other day,” You explained, hoping he remembered you.

“Of course,” His voice sounded lighter now, as if he were smiling. “Is something troubling you?”

“T-This might sound crazy,” You began, listening to him hum over the phone, waiting for you to explain. “We think Jungkook is possessed.”

“I figured it was something like that,” He responded easily, followed by shuffling sounds. “Where are you now? We can speak, I’ll come to you.”

“We’re at Kim Taehyung’s house,” Hearing the location, the priest agreed immediately and told you he was on his way as he spoke.

The next 15 minutes waiting for Yoongi to arrive were the most anxiety-filled minutes of your short life.

In the course of a couple weeks, your life had become that of a shitty B-rated horror movie. Your best friend possessed by a fucking demon and having to contact a Priest to help you out. What a joke.

The doorbell echoing across the house brought you to your feet and you raced to the door, feeling overwhelming relief flood your system at the sight of the priest.

“Good morning,” He smiled softly, bowing his head as he entered the house.

“Can I get you something to drink, Father?” Taehyung asked as he stood up the greet the older man.

“No, no thank you,” He declined, instead choosing to take a seat beside Jimin on the couch. “I’d like to get to the issue, if you don’t mind,”

“Not at all,” You responded, sitting on the floor opposite of the two men. “I guess you already know we had the night with the board and the strange happenings,”

“And then you contacted me for the blessing,” Yoongi finished, nodding at you to continue. “What happened when I left?”

“Things were pretty normal for a while, about a week but…” You thought back to that time as you spoke, searching for words to convey exactly what happened. “Everything came back but...it was 100 times worse. I swear I woke up a few times to someone standing over me, it was terrifying. And then Jimin was...chanting…”

“I got it from Taehyung,” Jimin explained, immediately knowing what you were referring to. “I told him about what was going on and he said I could try a purifying ritual. I think it just made...it angry.”

“That’s around the time that I was woken up by them fighting,”

“Jungkook was furious I was doing the ritual, he wanted to destroy the book so I couldn’t complete it,” Jimin continued to explain, making eye contact with the priest beside him. “I was so scare _____ wouldn’t believe me when I told her I wasn’t the one possessed,”

“Why did you get so angry when I came into the room during the ritual, Jimin?” You suddenly asked, seeming to surprise him.

“To be honest…” He shrugged. “I didn’t know if you were possessed or not. All I knew is that i wasn’t. But when Jungkook came in angry like that...I knew it was him.”

As the two of you fell silent, Yoongi hummed. Watching him, you could see him thinking it over, the wheels in his head turning.

“You know the name of the demon, don’t you?” His question seemed to surprise the both of you.

“It’s…” Jimin looked at you and Taehyung before spelling out the name to Yoonig. “O-Z-A,”

“I see,” Yoongi sighed, standing up. “That is the name of a demon who falls under the category of Ouija Demons. They’re demons who are summed by Ouija Boards and can attach themselves to the space they’re brought to. They don’t typically possess humans but it’s obviously not impossible.”

“So, w-what do we do about it?” Jimin asked, standing up along with you and Taehyung, all of you now huddled in a circle around the coffee table.

“Well, I’d like to go to your house...make sure it really is a demonic possession we’re dealing with and if so...an exorcism will be the best bet,”

Steeling your nerves, the four of you stood in front of the house. Although, the sun was in the sky now -- the house still had a dark feel to it, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Hmm,” Yoongi hummed, being the first one to actually approach the house. You and Jimin shared a look, scared of what you would find of your beloved friend behind the doors. “There is definitely dark energy here.”

“The door is locked,” Jimin muttered, pulling his keys out of his pocket, jogging forward to catch up to Yoongi, who was waiting by the door calmly.

When the door opened, it emitted a loud creak, making all of your cringe.

“Thanks, cliche horror door,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, nearly making you chuckle.

However, the light humor you found was quickly wiped clean when you saw the state of your house inside. The catchall table had been tipped over, scattering knicknacks and loose change across the floor. The pictures hung up on the wall were on the floor -- the glass having shattered and also decorated the floor. It crunched soundly beneath your shoes as you stepped on it. Taehyung closed to door behind you, casting you all in darkness which made you realize all the curtains were drawn closed.

“This place isn’t spooky at all,” Taehyung mumbled sarcastically, although much louder than his previous comment.

Before any of you could respond, there was a thundering boom from upstairs, as if something big and heavy was knocked over. You could feel the walls vibrate at the force and you barely held in a shocked squeal of fright.

“Let’s play rock, paper, scissors to see who has to go up,” Taehyung whispered, though he was joking, you could tell he was nervous if his trembling hands were anything to go by.

With Yoongi in the lead, you all followed the holy man upstairs to investigate the noise.

Just as you all reached the top of the stairs, every door in the hallway slammed open, making you and  Taehyung shriek at the loud noise. Yoongi appeared unfazed and Jimin was frozen in place.

It took you a second to realize he was staring at Jungkook, who had emerged from his bedroom.

“How...bold of you to bring a priest into the devil’s home,” He spoke, although his voice held absolutely none of the warmth Jungkook’s did.  

“You’re not the devil, don’t be absurd,” Yoongi’s voice was suddenly just as sinister as Jungkook’s. It was quite unsettling.

There was a flourish of movement followed by a blood-curdling shriek escaping from Jungkook’s pale lips. He stumbled back, clawing at his skin desperately, as if trying to get something off. You then noticed the steam rising from skin, little blisters arising from something.

“Holy water,” Yoongi said, nodding as he watched Jungkook. “Definitely a demonic possession. Taehyung,”

“Yes?” The boy answered immediately, although he still clung onto you.

“We’re going to perform an exorcism. Do you remember what to do?” Yoongi asked, not taking his eyes off the still-scrambling possessed Jungkook.

“Well, yes but…” Taehyung took a glance at both you and Jungkook. “Couldn’t it hurt him? What if It gets angry when we try to remove it. It could kill Jungkook!”

“What?!” Jimin cried, turning around to glare at the priest. “Absolutely not, you can’t do that!”

“Either we give it a try or the demon will kill him anyway!” Yoongi snapped, clearly becoming more on edge the longer he stood face-to-face with Oza.

“P-Please…” A soft, broken voice begged.

All three of you snapped your heads to where Jungkook was curled up on the floor, looking at you through his messy, sweat-matted bangs. Tears brimmed his puppy-eyes, making your heart ache. As you stepped forward to comfort your friend, a hand shot out to grip your arm, keeping you in place.

“Don’t,” Taehyung whispered, looking sadly between you and Jungkook. “It could overtake again in a second,”

“Please, help me,” Jungkook begged from the floor, whimpered as if in pain. “Get it out of me, please, it hurts!”

“Okay, Jungkook,” Jimin softly agreed, sniffling as he felt hopeless while his best friend was in pain. “We’ll do it,”

Jungkook cracked a smile, closing his eyes -- he seemed exhausted. It made you wonder what was going on inside him, was he awake? Did he have to watch as the demon destroyed everything and threatened to hurt his friends? Perhaps that’s why he was tired, he was mentally fighting the intrusion every step of the way. Or maybe he was asleep, his conscious drifting away to leave It to play on its own.

Then, as quickly as he came; Jungkook was gone and Oza was back -- a sickening grin sliding onto his face, nothing like the real Jungkook. It made you sick. He looked like Jungkook, sounded like Jungkook, but it was something invading his body and using him and hurting his host -- your best friend. You felt tears prick at your eyes.

“Stay strong,” Yoongi cooed, placing a calming hand on your shoulder. “Don’t show it any weakness or it will exploit it for it’s own gain. We’ll save Jungkook, I give you my word.”

You gave him a nod and dried up your tears, resolving to stay strong and defeat this evil. You would get Jungkook back and everything would go back to the way it was.

“Let’s begin,” Yoongi pulled out a small book, one that had fit into his pocket. When you got a glance at the pages, you realized you had no idea what it said -- it was in a completely different language.

“Jimin,” Taehyung said, grabbing him by the shoulders. “You two need to get somewhere safe, alright?”

“What about you?” Jimin asked, looking desperately at his friend.

“Unfortunately, this is more a two person job. Father Yoongi can’t do this on his own and unless you can pull some sick exorcism tricks out of your ass, then you’re going to be no help,”

“But--”

“Look, if you stay here you could get hurt. You and _____, do you want that?” Taehyung snapped, squaring up to Jimin with a heavy glare.

“No,” Jimin answered softly, reaching behind him to grasp your hand in his. You could feel his hand trembling in your grip and you gave it a soft squeeze, fighting a smile when he gave one back. “Alright, let’s go,”

“Where do we go?” You asked, causing Taehyung to furrow his brows.

“It’d be best if you left the house, but I’m going to assume you’ll say no to that,”

“You assume right,”

“Then...the basement would be the safest bet,” Taehyung shrugged.

“Oh yeah,” Jimin rolled his eyes. “Because the basement always works out in horror movies. I swear, this is becoming more like a bad B movie by the second,” Still, Jimin began to lead you down the staircase.

When you both reached the first floor, you could hear Yoongi begin to speak; most likely something from the book, as you couldn’t understand a single word. You could also hear a dark chuckle coming from Jungkook that sent shivers down your spine. The two of you doubled your pace, rushing to the door that led to the basement.

“How long do you think this’ll take?” You whispered, taking a seat on the cold concrete floor. Thankfully the basement at least had lights installing. It was mostly used for storage, although you three briefly thought of making it a game room. Maybe if--when Jungkook got better, you could do it as a fun project together.

“I wish I knew,” Jimin replied, shuffling closer to you, still keeping a strong grip on your hand.

You looked at him, his skin glowing from the orange lighting.

There was a loud slam from upstairs, the sound of glass crashing and you flinched as you remembered the big antique mirror that hung at the end of the hallway. Jungkook always used it to check out his outfit, acting as if the hall was a runway, striking a pose when he reached the mirror. He always made you and Jimin laugh.

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around Jimin’s middle; hugging him to you. Jimin cupped the back of your head, stroking your hair to comfort you.

“It’ll be okay,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, making you look up at him. “Jungkook will be alright. And you have me, too,”

“I know,” You whispered, meeting his eyes.

“I never thanked you,” He said, making you furrow your brows, shaking your head in confusion.

“What for?”

“For believing me,” He reached up, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “For trusting me, I don’t know what would have happened if you had believed Jungkook. You could have gotten hurt,”

“Jimin…” As you said his name, he began to lean forward -- your lips almost touching before the sound of the door opening stopped you.

“The ambulance is coming,” Taehyung called down the stairs, panting. “It worked.”

You and Jimin jumped to your feet, running to the foot of the stairs, looking up at Taehyung. He looked a mess, holding his side, which was seeping blood onto his shirt.

“What happened to you?!” You cried, thundering up the stairs with Jimin hot on your feet. “Where’s Father Yoongi?”

“Ah, bastard cut me with a piece of glass. It’s just superficial, might need stitches,” Taehyung explained, wincing as he took a step back to let you and Jimin out of the basement. “Father is with Jungkook upstairs, don’t worry,”

“Is he alive? Is he okay?” Jimin hounded, desperately grabbing onto Taehyung’s arm.

“He’s okay,” Taehyung quelled, patting Jimin’s hand on his arm comfortingly. “He should fully recover,”

“Thank god,” You and Jimin breathed at the same time.

“You got that right…” Taehyung joked, grinning; albeit painfully.

“Jungkook, you are such a diva,” You snapped, flicking him on the forehead, making him whine. “You scared the hell out of us, your punishment is to eat the horrible hospital food,”

“You’re evil,” Jungkook whimpered, flopping back dramatically on the bed. “Letting your poor hospitalized friend eat this gunk,”

“When you get home, we’ll cook you a nice big meal,” Jimin promised, grinning from where he sat on one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs.

“Visiting hours are almost over, you have 15 minutes,” A nurse told you, smiling softly from where she peaked in through the doorway. You and Jimin nodded, making Jungkook whine again.

“Stop being a baby,” You teased, patting him softly on the shoulder. “We’ll be back tomorrow, you know,”

“Yeah,” Jungkook heaved a big sigh. “Oh, how is Taehyung?”

“He’s alright, he went home yesterday,” Jimin answered, smiling when Jungkook whined again. “He just needed some stitches.”

“Why can he go home but I can’t!” Jungkook cried petulantly, poking out his bottom lip like a child. You rolled your eyes, he could be such a child.

“Because unlike you, Taehyung wasn’t malnourished and dehydrated. You have to stay here to get fluids and your strength back,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook waved his hand with a roll of his eyes.

“We gotta go,” Jimin stood up, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon,”

“Can you bring Tae?” Jungkook asked, sitting up again and this time, pulling his dinner closer to him to begin eating.

“We’ll see,” You responded, leaning down and giving your best friend a hug, which to weakly returned. He still wasn’t 100%, but he was getting there!

The walk home was quiet and comfortable, Jimin’s fingers laced with yours. The two of you hadn’t discussed how you had almost kissed that night but, things between you definitely changed. You weren’t complaining, you enjoyed the feeling of having him so close to you.

If you were honest, you had never seen Jimin as just a friend like you had with Jungkook. There were always underlying feelings for him which you never dwelled on or thought too much about.

But now, you were thinking about it.

A lot in fact.

“Hey Jimin,” You whispered, not wanting to raise your voice and ruin the calm atmosphere around the two of you. He hummed in reply, looking at you with a small smile on his lips. He looked, dare you say, fond. “Do you want to watch a movie when we get home? I don’t really feel like going to bed,”

“Only if we can watch Mulan,” Jimin bargained, pulling out his keys to unlock your front door.

The two of you had cleaned up, having to replace the picture frames and the cute ceramic bowl that served as your catchall on the table in the entryway but otherwise things were cleaned up and looking quite nice.

“Deal, I’ll go make popcorn,” You said, kicking your shoes off and rushing through the house to the kitchen, sliding on the tiled floor in your socks.

You could hear Jimin shuffling around in the living room, setting up the DVD player. You and he had argued that you could just watch it on Netflix or Hulu but Jungkook was always adamant on watching things on DVD -- it made him feel younger, like when he was a kid.

The smell of fresh, buttery popcorn wafted through the air as you sat it on the table. Jimin had unfolded your favorite fluffy blanket and set up a little space for you beside him.

As the movie played, Jimin munched on the popcorn beside you. Before long, you were humming along to I’ll Make a Man Out of You, the song and theatrics of the scene drawing all your attention so that you didn’t notice Jimin’s hand sliding beneath the blanket to find your hand, where you had tucked them under to keep them warm. The house was cold as none of you wanted to admit defeat and turn the heater on yet. Thinking on it, though, you should probably turn it on for when Jungkook comes home.

As the song ended, you felt eyes on you; turning to see Jimin smiling at you.

“What is it?” You asked, unable to fight your own smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

You were shocked. He was so straightforward. You blinked repeatedly before nodding dumbly, making him grin again.

His lips were soft; though that was no shock because the man had 15 different lip scrubs in the bathroom and a handful of chapsticks that he used religiously. As your lips worked against his, you could faintly taste the salty butter from the popcorn he had been munching on.

The hand that wasn’t beneath your blanket cupped your jaw, easing you into tilting your head so he could deepen the kiss, tongue beginning to lick into your mouth.

You sighed, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair.

He smelled so good and he felt so nice beneath your touch, you could feel the muscles in his back flex as you gripped his shirt, wanting to feel him closer to you. Although you were no longer holding his hand, it was still beneath the blanket holding your thigh. Just having him touch you like that was setting a fire in your veins and it almost seemed like he read your mind as his digits began to lightly caress your inner thigh through your leggings.

“_____?” He whispered, barely breaking the kiss, your lips still touching as he spoke. “Can I touch you?”

Your only reply was a breathless ‘please’ before he gently helped you lay on your back, hovering beneath your body as Mulan continued to play on the television.

His hands became busy with pushing your sweater up to reveal the sports bra you wore; you were dressed for comfort not getting laid. He didn’t seem to mind as he leaned back down to tie your lips into another kiss, fingers trailing along your skin to make goosebumps rise on your skin. You held in a giggle as he brushed your ribs, making you feel ticklish.

The feeling left you as his fingers dipped beneath your bra, just barely brushing your breast before you couldn’t take it anymore and you pulled your sweater off in a hurry. Jimin leaned up, chuckling softly as you also pulled your bra off and dropped it on the floor. Jimin seemed to follow you and pulled his own shirt off, letting it fall off the side of the couch.

Truth be told, you hadn’t really expected to have your first time with Park Jimin on a couch, but hey, you couldn’t afford to be picky now when his lips were wrapping around one pert nipple and his cock was hard and pressing against you through his jeans.

You couldn’t seem to feel the cold air around you anymore, your whole being centered around the warmth of the beautiful man on top of you now. While he tongue and lips worked one of your nipples, his fingers began to pluck at the other one, making you whimper. Your hands weren’t idle either as you pulled at his hand and lightly dragged your nails up his back, which made him groan against your bud.

“Jimin, please,” You whimpered, pulling at his hair to break his lips away from you.

“What do you need, babygirl?” You shivered at the pet name and whimpered, making him smirk. “You like that? You like bein’ called babygirl?”

“Yes, god,” You whined, grabbing his wrist to pull his hand away from your breast, leading him to the waistband of your leggings.

You were wet and quite frankly, you were sure you wouldn’t need much foreplay but you also wanted to feel his fingers inside you...just a little taste of it. Jimin groaned, immediately giving in to what you wanted as he dove his hand into your leggings. However, he froze the second he brushed against your soaked slit.

“No panties?” He scoffed, making you blush as you realized you had, in fact, decided to forgo panties today. “Dirty girl, going to see poor Kookie when you’re not even wearing panties,”

Before you could even think of a rebuttal, his fingers were spreading your folds so his middle finger could circle your clit in firm circles. Your hips arched into the feeling, a low groan escaping your lips as Jimin’s dark eyes watched every single one of your movements.

“A...A finger, please, Jimin,”

He didn’t respond, merely sliding his finger inside you, crooking it the second it was bottomed out to find your g-spot. He took a couple seconds on searching, before he hit the little spot and made you cry out. When he slid a second finger inside you, your eyes rolled back and you realized that you would be hitting an orgasm embarrassingly fast if he kept it up. So, you grudgingly pulled his hand out of your leggings -- promptly popping his fingers, coated in your juices, into your mouth. Jimin’s mouth dropped open as he watched and felt the way your tongue licked up every drop of yourself.

You both seemed to be on the same page as he gripped the band of your leggings, pulling them down your legs. You helped him, pulling your feet from the material. Once you were free, you sat up and flicked the button of his jeans open, beginning to pull them down his thighs until he had to stand up to pull them off the rest of the way.

He stood before you in his boxer-briefs, which did nothing to hide the fact that he was rock hard and that his precum was staining the dark material.

Biting your lip, you hooked your finger into the band, pulling them down until his cock slapped his stomach, the tip an almost purple-red from being neglected. As much as you wanted to feel him inside you, you were overcome with the desire to have him in your mouth.

Keeping your eyes on his, you carefully took the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip to gather as much of his precum as you could, whimpering at his taste. Jimin hissed, clenching his teeth as he gripped your hair. You could feel his hand trembling against you, and you internally smirked.

However, you didn’t have a long time to enjoy the heaviness of him on your tongue because he was pulling himself out of your mouth and kicked his boxers the rest of the way down.

With the both of you completely naked, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Jimin kneeled between your spread legs sliding the head of his cock between your folds, getting himself soaked with your juices.

“You ready?” You nodded, arching your hips for him so he could sink in.

The both of you froze when he bottomed, his cock pulsing inside of you and your walls throbbing as you accommodated him.

He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. The angle, however, caused the tip of him to brush your g-spot. When you whimpered against his kiss, he pulled back and ground his hips to make you cry out.

“Fuck,” He cursed, cupping your breasts before he began to fuck you in earnest.

The sound of skin slapping together fills the room, mingling with the wet noises of your cunt and your moans. Your nails scratched at his back, no doubt leaving trails of red in their wake. However, it only seemed to spur him on as he moved his hips even faster.

“Fuck, I’m close,” He panted, resting his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck. “Play with your clit for me, babygirl, make yourself cum on me,”

You didn’t need to even think about it before your fingers found your hard clit, sensitive and neglected and aching to be touched. Jimin felt the way you clenched around him at the added stimulation, making him whimper against your skin.

Right as you both started to cum, he pressed his lips against yours. You trembled beneath him, cumming hard as his cum filled you up. Part of your brain was reminding you that a cum stain would never come out of the couch but quite honestly, the rest of your brain couldn’t give less of a fuck.

Jimin held himself above you, panting and smiling down at you.

You all sighed as Jungkook finally took a seat on the couch. All of you were so happy for him to be home — Taehyung had even stopped by to give a gift basket. However, he couldn’t stay; his stitches were still healing and it ached every time he moved.

“You know,” Jungkook sighed, grinning goofily at the two of you. “Don’t you think it’s kind of cliche that the two of you got together after all this shit? Fuckin’ B-rated horror movie shit, I tell you!”

“I swear someone’s said that before…” You mumbled, squinting as Jimin chuckled.

© httpjeon 2019. do not repost or modify.

[foxyninjabear]

A Hacker’s Tale - Chapter 3

[CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO]

(Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!)

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!: This fic is rated as PG-14+, so read at your own risk! There’s swearsies, suggestive references, and LOTS of blood and gore! Be aware!

________________________________________________

Angel

It was the sound of screams and loud gunfire that made Angel whip her head away from the hostages. 

“What in the name of...?!” She sprung up from the crate she was sitting on. Her long, powerful rifle was gripped tightly in both her hands, ready to be fired at any moment.

Many others in the room had the same reaction. Most of the captives let out some sort of shriek, huddling closer to each other out of fear. The hackers let out surprised exclamations, before following Angel’s lead and equipping their weapons.

“The hell was that?!” Grey demanded, pistol in hand and pointed at the door.

“Whatycha think they were, dumbass?!” Coda sassed her former mentor back, grasping her own battle axe firmly. “They’re fucking shotgun blasts!”

“You think those three got caught?” Synth asked, his assault rifle in hand.

“No shit, sherlock!”

But as everyone was silent and continued to yell, Angel was quiet. Quiet out of the guilt that something terrible might have been happening to the soldiers under her command. She had to do something. 

“Stay here.” She ordered, dashing towards the iron doors. “I’m going to find them. Do not let hostages escape.” Before anyone could say anything, she burst through the doors and slammed them behind her as she entered the hallway. 

She sent them out there on their own. And she was going to get every single one of them back.

Angel activated a flight hack and sprung off the floor to hover, before racing down the winding corridors. Her gaze was locked straight forward as she sped through the air. She zipped around tight turns, dodged massive crates that obstructed her flight path, narrowly avoided running into countless walls-

The gunshots suddenly ceased, filling the halls with a dreadful silence. A part of her mind raced and buzzed. Were her soldiers okay? Had they fended the threat off? Had they failed?

And then she made one final twist around a corner and came upon the sight she was more than happy to see. Sakura and Lucky were both being shielded behind Jazz, who had his shotgun pointed down a separate corridor branching off of the main hallway.

The mechanic soon caught sight of her, and her brown eyes widened. “Ma’am!” She called out and waved her mechanical arm frantically. “You came!”

Angel let out an internal sigh of relief at the sight of the trio. Every single one was alive. “You three alright?” She questioned, glancing around at the three soldiers as she reached them and lowered herself to the floor.

Jazz groaned and rolled his shoulder. “Yes, ma’am… we’re fine,” He gestured to a spot a couple meters away, down the smaller hallway. “Can’t say the same for him though.”

The taller woman glanced over to where her colleague was pointing. Sprawled out face down on the floor was what appeared to be a humanoid robot, a shattered crossbow and bolts nearby. Several large dents ran up and down the droid’s back and legs. They could easily be presumed to be from Jazz’s shotgun blasts, due to the fact that dozens of the pellets were embedded into the steel. It could also be assumed that the robot was no longer functional, for it was still and silent.

However, as Angel approached and bent her knees to get a closer look, the ‘robot’ let out a too human groan of pain and shifted itself. Enough so to where its face could be seen. And the sniper immediately recognized who it was, and he wasn’t any robot. Cyborg, maybe, but no robot. It was Biffa2001, one of HermitCraft’s residents Lucky had marked as potentially hostile, due to his former military status. A large bruise was beginning to form on his cheek, presumably from him collapsing to the ground.

She could see Sakura stepping up to her out of the corner of her eye. “And ma’am, there’s something important that-”

“What’s important is that you three are unharmed.” Angel answered, standing back up to her full height. She glanced back to the three soldiers. “Now, we need to-”

“But ma’am, he called for backup!” Sakura stated, cutting off Angel. “Forgive me for interrupting, but our cover’s been compromised!”

The sniper stopped at the mechanic’s words. Compromised? He managed to contact the others? "What? Are you positive?" She asked, her tone beginning to reveal some anger within her.

The brunette gave a hasty nod. "Yes, ma'am!" She quickly answered, obviously panicked. "They said they were on their way!"

“Now?”

“Now!”

Angel felt the annoyance bubbling in her chest transform into extreme frustration. First it was finding out there were potential threats in the World, then it was nearly getting torn to shreds by a massive worm, and now it was having their locations and cover being blown! Everything just had to go wrong that day, didn’t it? What was going to be next?

But instead of expressing her internal fury, she kept it hidden and took a deep breath. “Alright… listen up. All of you.” She spoke loud enough to get everyone’s eyes on her. “We need to get back to the rest of the team and make a plan. Fast.” Just as she pivoted and was about to teleport, she turned to look over at Jazz, before gesturing to Biffa on the floor. “Oh, and bring him with us. We’re putting him with the others.”

Jazz gave Angel an immediate nod, before bending his knees to pick up the unconscious cyborg in his arms. When he stood up once again, however, he wobbled a bit and tried to stabilize himself. “Holy shit, this guy’s heavy!”

“H-He’s mostly metal…” Lucky said. “W-What’d you expect...?” 

“Lucky, Jazz. Now.” The sniper repeated her command, giving an icy glare to the two brothers.

The soldiers both fell silent, but each gave her a nod. Now satisfied, Angel turned around and quickly teleported back to the room where her byte and the hostages resided, Sakura, Jazz, Lucky, and Biffa right behind her. Once she opened the door and walked inside, however, she was greeted with an… interesting sight.

Everybody was still there, which was a relief, but now several boxes were either opened or toppled over, their contents spilling out onto the floor. In the center of it all, Coda was laughing as she strapped a mask of a chicken face over her head, before putting on a brown hat and trenchcoat over her armor. Several other costumes and outfits were strewn about, from a tattered black robe paired with a plastic scythe to a blue captain’s uniform and hat. Of course she was going through the crates… 

“Hold on, Synth, how’s this one?” The creeper asked, looking over at her fellow Infantry soldier. She appeared to not have noticed Angel enter, either. “Whatcha think this one’s supposed to be?” She struck a pose, tipping her newly acquired fedora at the hostages, despite their obvious mix of confusion and fear. 

Synth chuckled. “A detective, maybe?” He was about to say something else, but his grey eyes landed on Angel. “...I think you have a new audience.”

“Huh?” Coda then turned around, and came face to face with the sniper. “Holy shit-”

Angel shoved Coda aside as she led Jazz, Lucky, and Sakura back into the storage room. “No time to talk.” She said quickly, before snatching a stray iron rod from one of the stray crates. “We’re getting out of here, our cover has been blown.”

Coda lifted the chicken mask off her face to show her confused expression. “Wait, what? We’ve been found?!”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

The whole room fell deadly silent at Angel’s curse. She knew she had to just try and make it a bit longer without her patience snapping in two. She took a breath, and spoke again.“Yes, our location’s been compromised. We need to move.” Her gaze then landed on Jazz, who was still carrying the unconscious Biffa. “And remember, leave him here. He’s not getting up anytime soon.”

The soldier nodded at his leader’s order, and set Biffa on the ground next to the other hostages, who were all wide eyed and panicked. “Don’t worry… he’ll live.” Jazz said calmly. “...probably.”

One of the hostages, Stress, let out a shaky gasp. “P-Probably…?” She asked.

Angel glanced down at the cyborg. He was in a pretty critical condition… he took several shotgun hits, after all. Even though his armor and cybernetics shield him from most of the damage, perhaps healing him would be a wise choice. “Nix,” She stated out, turning over to the young medic next to Grey. “Heal him up, would you? We can’t have a recruit dying on us.”

The teen’s expression was one of surprise, but he gave the woman a nod and walked over to the group of five captives. Most scooted away as he approached, but one tried to get in between him and Biffa, despite his arm being broken. Doc.

“Get away from him!” He growled, hissing in pain from his severe wound. “You think we’re just going to trust you?! After what you’ve done?!”

Angel frowned more, and took a slow step towards him. “If we wanted to kill you all...we would have done so already.”

Doc was about to speak again, but somebody else beat him to it. “Doc, please…!” Scar cried out, his green eyes filled with desperation and worry. “She’s right! If we don’t get Biffa some help, he’s not gonna make it!” 

The scientist fell silent. He looked down at his friend on the floor, closed his mismatched eyes, and let out a sigh. “Fine.” He answered reluctantly. “But if you try and do something other than helping, I will send a sword through your gut-”

“I rather doubt that,” Angel replied, taking another stride closer, close enough to where she was towering over his restrained figure. “Unless you can somehow break out of those cuffs… you’re not going anywhere.” She glanced down back at Nix. “You can continue, Nix.”

Nix looked up at his superior and gave her a nod. Kneeling down next to Biffa, he then held his hand outwards, and a small mass of glitching pink and red pixels began to form. He carefully pressed his palm against the cyborg’s forehead, and the wounds on his head and body began to fade away. After mere seconds, only a few small scars remained. Even the dents in his plated armor had disappeared.

Grey let out a chuckle. “I told you he was good for his age, eh?”

Angel gave a nod. “I will admit… I’m impressed.” She replied. The boy was quite talented, given he was fresh out of his training. “But we don’t have time to praise. We need to move. Now.” She tilted her head towards the door.

Many of the hackers nodded or saluted, and began to walk out of the room, Angel leading them. But as Coda shut the door behind them all, the sniper remembered something; the rusting iron bar in her hand.  “Oh, and Coda?”

The creeper snapped her dark gaze to meet the sniper’s. “Hmm?” She raised an eyebrow, before blinking in realization of who had said her name. “M-ma’am?”

Unfazed by (and somewhat accustomed to) her flustered reaction, Angel then tossed the metal rod in her hands over to the soldier. “Make sure they don’t get out.”

Coda caught the iron bar with ease, and after a mere moment of her obvious confusion, a wide grin spread across her scaled face. "Yes ma'am." She answered and gave a salute. Cracking her knuckles, she immediately followed the order and, grasping the bar, twisted it with ease around the door handles, barricading the four hostages inside.

‘H-hey…!” One of the captives, Impulse, cried out as he saw the creeper render the only exit useless. He stumbled to his feet and sped towards the door, trying not to trip from the lack of balance due to his hands being cuffed behind his back. “Don’t lock us in here!”

“Too bad,” Coda replied, before letting out a small chuckle. “Can’t have the merchandise wandering ‘round, y’hear? ”

Impulse ignored the snide remark. “Just let us go!!” He begged, brown eyes pleading. “We’ll give you anything you want… just don’t hurt anybody else, please!”

Angel locked her single eye on the man, gaze cold and empty. “Like we told you all before…” She started, leaning closer to the small window in the door. “If you cooperate, you live. And if you don’t, you die. It’s your choice.” She pulled away and waved her hand to signal that it was time to go. “Now, move out everyone.”

“No, wait, please…! Hey!”

She led the group of hackers down the winding hallways, ignoring the continuous cries and pleads from the hostages. Over sixteen years of experience helped quite a bit with that. It may have been such a horrid sound, but the further they went, the more it faded into undetectable echoes.

Soon, everyone was at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the bunker’s exit. Unfamiliar voices could be faintly heard from outside.  “Remember what I said before!” Angel turned back to face the soldiers under her command. “Capture who you can… take out the rest. We want as many recruits as possible. Am I clear?”

Everyone nodded and gave a salute, a few throwing in a “Yes ma’am,” as a reply. 

“Good.” She then took her helmet and slipped it onto her head. “Now, move out, and keep your head on a swivel.”

She pivoted herself to face the stairs again, before beginning her speedy ascent, her byte in tow. It was time to spread her wings and take to the skies, to live up to her name as a songbird, a nightingale. Her instrument of choice? A thunderous hail of bullets from above.

~~~~~

In just the span of ten minutes, Angel and her team had managed to take down and apprehend nearly a dozen more W.E.S. operatives. Thankfully, not all of them came at the same time. It was more of a slow trickle of people rather than a flood. Although quite a few were injured in some manner, ranging from concussions to full on gunshot wounds, they were easily healed up by either Nix or Grey, before being handcuffed and teleported down into the storage bunker. Things were going much better than expected; Angel predicted that they’d be done with the skirmish in the next fifteen to twenty minutes. Then it was a matter of securing the World and getting it wrapped in the Shadowbyte Army’s clutches.

At that moment, Angel was zooming through the air, peering through the scope of her rifle at two figures down on the ground below. One, a blonde man in a dark grey vest, was running alongside a shorter man with unruly brown hair wearing a dull green hoodie (which she found somewhat odd, given the blazing summer heat). The blonde she didn’t recognize, but the moment the brunette looked over his shoulder and caught sight of her flying, she knew who he was when she saw the cybernetic eye in place of one of his natural ones. Iskall85. Former military sergeant, and lethal in hand to hand combat.

She knew where to spend her next bullet. 

It didn’t faze Angel when Iskall immediately grabbed the unknown blonde’s hand and ran faster across the field. He had seen her, after all, circling the skies like a hawk searching for prey. But he could only run so fast and so far. And she could take her sweet time, if she wanted… but she wasn’t one for laziness.

So with one pull of her trigger, she fired at the brunette and sent him sprawling onto the dirt. 

The sniper pressed the side of her helmet to activate her earpiece. “This is Nightingale to Patient Zero, Hound, and Profit,” She started, keeping her focus on the two men. Immediately after Iskall fell, the blonde skid to a halt and rushed to his side. “I’ve got another takedown, just south of the compound. One has a gunshot wound to the leg…” She stopped for a moment to take another shot, which sent the blonde man to the ground as well. “The other has one to the shoulder.”

Not a moment later, she heard Grey’s voice crackle over the intercom. “Hear you loud and clear, ma’am,” He answered. “Patient Zero’s on his way now.” “Good. And Profit?”

Another voice sounded. Lucky’s. “Y-yes ma’am.” He said, almost sounding as if he were caught by surprise. “I-I’m also on my way.”

“Perfect. Now, you know the drill. Restrain them, and once they’ve been healed, take them down to the bunker.”

“O-of course, ma’am!” Lucky replied.

“Excellent,” Angel soon saw two figures appear next to Iskall and the blonde. Lucky and Nix. “I have visual on you and Patient Zero. You have it handled?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” The hacker finally turned her focus away from the two W.E.S. operatives and flew off. “This is Nightingale, over and out.” She darted her gaze over the field, rifle at the ready. If her memory served her correctly, there were only seven more to find and capture.

And one immediately caught her attention. Because they nearly hit Angel in the leg with a crossbow bolt.

Thankfully, Angel had noticed the missile soon enough to teleport out of the way. As she looked at the ground to figure out who had shot it, her eye landed on a young blonde woman, a pair of goggles perched atop her head. A large crossbow was clutched in her hands, and it was lined up at her to take another shot.

Not if her gun had anything to say about it. Before the woman could send another bolt flying, the sniper simply whipped out her rifle and returned fire. A split second later, she saw the crossbow shatter into pieces and scatter onto the dirt.

However, instead of immediately trying to finish the job, Angel stayed put and glanced through her scope. She got a clearer look at her opponent’s face, and she recognized her as the one and only FalseSymmetry. The famous former military commander, showered with praise for her bravery and valour.

Now she really caught her attention.

The hacker decided to fly closer to the blonde, somewhat curious of what would happen next. As she glided closer to the ground, she saw the woman quickly unsheath an iron sword from her belt.

Vigilant and quick to react. Not bad.

Angel eventually got close enough to False to where she could hear her. She wanted to see if she could continue to fight, see that she was outmatched by a landslide, in terms of weaponry and equipment. Not to mention Angel’s hacks gave her an overwhelming advantage.

“Hello there, Miss Symmetry,” The hacker greeted as she hovered about six meters above the ground. “That was a nice shot you made… especially for how slow crossbow bolts are against guns.”

False gave Angel an angry glare, her iron sword poised. “What do you want?” She wasn’t taking the bait.

The soldier calmly replaced the rifle in her hands with her metal staff. “For you to cooperate.” She stated, allowing herself to descend and gently plant her feet on the grass. “We can do this the easy way, where you surrender peacefully-”

The blonde shook her head and cut her off. “Not a chance.” She pointed her blade at the taller woman. “I’m not just going to give in that easily!”

Angel wasn’t exactly surprised at False’s decision, despite knowing so little about her other than her military experience. She was used to receiving sass and insubordination, anyhow, from allies and enemies alike. She gripped her staff tighter, knowing what was about to happen next. “The hard way it is, then.” 

A moment of tense silence ensued. Neither woman said anything more, neither moved, neither broke eye contact. Only the sounds of other brawls, chaos, and gunfire accompanied them. It was as if time was at a standstill, like the universe had stopped just for that moment…

And then False charged forwards, before slashing her blade.

Angel swiftly dodged the attempted strike with a long stride to the side. A bit of a messy swing, but it could have been worse. She took her own staff and made a low sweep at her opponents ankles. But she was pleasantly surprised when the blonde jumped upwards just as the metal pole was about to knock her off her feet.

False wasn’t half bad. More than that, even. Perhaps she would make a good soldier in the Army… if she wanted to get out of this alive, that is.

The hacker kept her thoughts to herself, however. She wanted to see what else the former commander could do, to see if her skills from her previous career were still decent. So she took a step back, opening some space between her and her opponent, before teleporting behind her in a flash of pixels and swinging her staff. And the blonde surprised her once more as she spun around and held up her sword to block the blow, causing sparks to shower around the two of them.

Now things looked promising. Her reflexes were fantastic, she was aware of everything going on around her. It was obvious that her combat abilities weren’t hindered in the slightest. 

But of course, Angel knew that she shouldn’t waste too much time, so she immediately decided to end the brawl and take the upper hand. Before False could react, the hacker lunged back and harshly planted her foot against her chest.

The blonde stumbled back from the force of her kick, giving Angel the opportunity to lunge and make a final swing at her opponent with her staff. A loud THWACK sounded as metal collided with the side of her head, and the woman was knocked completely off her feet, slamming onto the ground unconscious.

Now she knew for certain that False was soldier material. It was only a matter of time until-

“GO LONG, TOOTHPICK!”

Angel’s posture went rigid. It was Coda. What was she doing this time?

She glanced over her shoulder, and saw three people coming her way. One was, of course, Coda, who was running along the ground and looking up at the sky. Grey wasn’t too far behind her, flying and almost struggling to keep up. The third person was a younger man with raven hair and a notably large (almost cartoonish) mustache, who she recognized as the redstone prodigy and multimillionaire, Mumbo Jumbo. But to Angel’s surprise, he was being flung back and forth through the air like a ragdoll, courtesy of Coda using telekinetic hacks.

Why wasn’t she surprised?

Just as the creeper and medic were running past her, Angel spoke angrily. “Coda!” She ordered, stamping her foot into the earth. “Put him down. Now.”

Coda skidded herself to a halt as she heard her name, just after flinging Mumbo straight upwards into the sky. “Aw, c’mon! It’s fun!” After a moment of her superior’s silence, however, she huffed, sagging her shoulders. “Fine, Boss,” Just as the screaming and falling Mumbo was about to slam into the ground, she then flicked her hand in the air. The young man’s tall and lanky figure immediately slowed down to a halt, leaving him hovering just a meter or two above the dirt, dangling by only one ankle.

“Wha… huh…?” Mumbo cracked open an eye, before patting himself all over. “I’m alive…?” 

“You thought I was gonna kill ya, pipecleaner?” Coda asked, leaning closer to his face.

The ravenhead tried to lean away as she got closer, but only succeeding in making himself sway in midair. “U-uhhh…!”

“Okay, that’s enough, Coda,” Grey stated to the younger soldier, breathing heavily. He had finally managed to catch up to his former pupil. “Just leave the kid alone. We don’t want to traumatize another recruit.”

Mumbo blinked, his already pasty skin becoming paler. “R...recruit…?” He asked, his brown eyes wide with fear. “What are you talking about?”

Coda’s eyes showed a spark of excitement, before she brought him into a headlock with one arm. “Why, you’re comin’ with us, toothpick!” She declared. “You get to be one of us!”

“Only if he accepts,” Angel spoke out, not caring that she sounded impatient. “But if he wants to live, he will have to enlist.”

“Hmm…” Coda leaned closer to Mumbo again, as if inspecting him. “He’s not who I’d pick for soldier material…” She was silent for a moment, only to then shrug and let out a chuckle. “But hey, he’s kinda cute… a bit on the pale’n’lanky side, but cute.” She stretched out a hand to tap him on the nose with her finger. “At the very least, he can be useful in the Engineering Div-”

A loud PANG sounded, followed by Grey suddenly getting knocked to the ground, out cold. 

“Wh- Grey!” Coda let out a shriek, and the telekinetic hack she was using disappeared with his consciousness. But with how she didn’t even bother to reactivate it to stop Mumbo from falling, it was obvious that she didn't care if he got hurt. She didn’t even say anything as the younger man let out a panicked cry and slammed into the ground with a harsh thud. “What the fuck?!”

Angel jumped in surprise, before whipping out her rifle and locking her gaze on where Grey was just knocked out cold. For a split second, she noticed nothing, but soon saw two unmoving imprints on the grass. Boots.

Her brows furrowed, and she pointed her gun right where she presumed the person would be. “Show yourself now. I know you’re there.” She demanded, continuing to glare daggers off into the seemingly empty air.

For a few seconds, the sniper was faced with nothing but silence. It wasn’t until, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Coda roughly pulling Mumbo off the ground that something happened. A male’s panicked voice, slightly muffled.

“Alright, alright! Just don’t hurt him! The potion needs to wear off...”

Angel was pleased with the response. After a moment of shuffling, a figure slowly began to fade into her line of sight. A man slightly taller than her, donning a sleek set of emerald green body armor, along with a grey helmet similar in style to the one she was wearing. In his gloved hands was False’s sword, gripped by the steel blade. He must have used the hilt as a club to knock Grey unconscious. After a split second of thought, she soon recognized him, remembering his face from the lineup of HermitCraft’s members.

Xisumavoid.

“Hey, you!” Coda hissed at the man, and balled up the back of Mumbo’s shirt in her fist. “This your fucking buddy?!” She then whipped out a pistol and jammed it against the side of his head, finger on the trigger.

“O-oh my word…!” Mumbo let out a terrified shriek, and he froze where he stood.

Xisuma’s eyes went large as he saw the gun trained on his colleague, not even focused on Angel anymore. This surprised her. If anything, she presumed he would be more focused on the large rifle aimed right at his own head. “Please, just let him go! All I want to do is talk!”

“Let this pipecleaner go? Fat fucking chance-”

“Coda!”

Angel locked her one eyed gaze with the creeper, glaring daggers. Her patience with her was wearing extremely thin. “Watch. Your. Tongue.” She growled.

Coda fell silent, before letting out a huff. “Whatever y’say, Boss.”

The sniper sighed, and returned her focus to Xisuma. “We’ll give him to you… but you need to give us something in return.” She gestured to the sword gripped in his hands. “Go on. Toss it over.”

Xisuma’s worried eyes shifted to Mumbo, who was still shaking in fear from the gun against his head. A tense moment of silence passed. But then, without saying a word, he threw the sword on the ground at Coda’s feet.

“Good.” Angel answered, satisfied that somebody was following her orders. “Now, let him go Coda.” She looked over her shoulder to the soldier.

Coda gave a stiff nod. “Understood.” Removing the pistol from Mumbo’s head, she then shoved him forwards. He cried out and stumbled, but he quickly got to his feet and retreated behind Xisuma.

“X, what are you doing?!” The young man asked his colleague, visibly terrified of the situation. “These guys are dangerous!”

“I know,” Xisuma stated, and, to Angel’s satisfaction, raised his hands up in surrender. “Which is why I need you to get out of here.”

Mumbo blinked. “Wait, what?” He asked. “X, I can’t just leave you-”

The man in green armor snapped his visored gaze to the taller one behind him. “Mumbo, I said get out of here!”

Mumbo tried to speak, but once he glanced over at Angel and Coda again, he stopped himself. He gave Xisuma a terrified expression, as if silently begging him to not make him go.

“You heard’em, toothpick.” Coda growled, slinging her massive axe over her shoulder. “Run. Before we change our minds.”

Angel remained silent, but kept her icy gaze on the young man. After a seemingly long moment, their eyes locked, and once they did, his skin when from already pale to practically white, almost sickly. As if too afraid to see what would happen next, he glanced back at Xisuma with a fearful expression, before he turned and dashed away as fast as his feet could carry him.

The creeper cupped her hands around her mouth as she, Angel, and Xisuma watched Mumbo scamper off. “Run faster, chicken legs!” She called out. “Run like your fucking life depends on it-”

“Coda.” Angel made a cold, stern warning again. She swore that Coda was practically a child, she was so immature. Of course, she had plenty of experience dealing with both children and disrespectful soldiers, but that creeper was pushing her buttons like she was born to annoy. One minute, she’d be flustered at the mere sight of her, and the next, she’d be so defiant!

Coda fell silent, let out a huff, and crossed her arms. “Aight, Ma,” She groaned in annoyance, making her superior further approach the edge of her patience. Just breathe… 

The sniper locked her sharp gaze with Xisuma’s. “Well, you got your wish. Your friend is gone.” She lowered her rifle slightly. He wasn’t armed anymore, so the possibility of him being a threat wasn’t high. “Now… talk.”

Xisuma was quiet for a moment, before he cleared his throat. “I...I want to make a deal,” He said, hands still in the air. “I don’t want to fight you all… I don’t want anybody else getting hurt.” For a second, his eyes shifted to both Grey and False unconscious on the ground. “J-Just… hear me out. Please.”

Angel raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. A deal? She pursed her lips in thought. It was awfully bold (not to mention odd) of him to first incapacitate one of her soldiers, but then wanting to only negotiate instead of fight. As if he panicked and switched plans as the original was set in motion.

Before she could respond, however, Coda (unsurprisingly) stated her mind. “A deal?” She growled, before pointing to Grey passed out in the dirt. “You think I wanna make a damn fucking deal? After whatchya just did?!”

Xisuma kept his hands up, despite the threatening tone from Coda. "Please, just leave us alone!" He pleaded again. "We can just-”

He was cut off as the creeper swiftly scooped False’s sword from the ground, teleported in front of him, and shoved the iron blade right through his chest.

The man gasped and stumbled forwards the moment Coda pierced the sword through his abdomen, and was knocked back as the sword was drawn out. Dark red blood leaked out of the gaping wound and stained nearly his emerald green armor, before dripping onto the ground below. He coughed and croaked, almost stumbling to the earth. It was obvious that even with immediate medical attention, there was no way he would survive an attack that severe. Guess they were coming home with one less recruit.

But just as Angel was about to scold Coda for the impulsive decision, she immediately noticed something was off. As the staggering man clutched his seemingly fatal injury, the gushing blood suddenly became a mere trickle, and then the gash closed entirely, leaving nothing but a few crimson droplets behind. No average player could heal that quickly, even with the help of potions or any regeneration effect. And there wasn’t any sort of brew or beacon to be seen. Which could only mean one thing...

He was a hacker. And a powerful one, at that. Whether he used extremely effective healing hacks or a god-like invincibility hack, that man knew what he was doing. And it was apparent that he had been using them for a long time.

“Well then…” Angel then stated to Xisuma, letting a hint of genuine surprise slip into her words. Her grip on her rifle tightened. “Guess we have one of our own, hmm?”

The man in green armor coughed one last time, before clearing his throat. “So what if I’m a hacker? At least I don’t use my powers for my own gain…”

“Y’wanna bet on it?” Coda replied, sword poised and ready to strike once more. 

Xisuma wiped his bloody hand on his leg, leaving a crimson smear on the green plated armor. “I told you, I don’t want to fight!” He declared, holding his hands out and shaking his head. “We can both go our own ways. You leave us alone, and we’ll leave you alone!”

The creeper was silent for a moment, before she suddenly let out a burst of laughter. “Leave ya alone?” She cackled, clutching her stomach. “Holy shit, you’re hilarious! You think we’re just gonna fucking leave?”

The man blinked in confusion. It was obvious to Angel that he wasn’t expecting that sort of response. “W-well, yeah… we outnumber you all. There’s twenty two of us and only eight of you! I want to give you a chance to-”

Coda interrupted him with another chuckle. “Y’sure about your math there, buddy?” She taunted, eyes glinting with mischief. “It’s more like seven of you guys now… before y’got here, we’d already taken care of quite a few.”

Angel’s eye snapped to the creeper, her patience finally breaking. She knew that Coda’s impulsivity would get her into trouble. But it was too late to get her out of it now; Xisuma’s gaze had first widened, then filled with horror, and then filled with rage.

“You...you what?”

“You heard me, green bean.” The soldier said. “What’cha gonna do? Cry about it-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Xisuma then lunged at her, planting his fist right into her chest. To both Angel’s amazement and shock, Coda’s figure went flying across the field at the force of the punch, until she tumbled and skidded to a final halt. She didn’t make another move.

That single action let Angel know that this hacker was not going to surrender willingly. 

“CODA!!”

A louder voice rang out just after Coda landed. Synth. “YOU BASTARD!!” Soon, the Infantry soldier appeared out of the corner of Angel’s eye, sword drawn and ready to slash. For a moment, he glanced over at the woman. “I’ve got this, ma’am! Go get a medic!” 

As much as Angel wanted to stay and help, she knew that Coda needed medical attention immediately. No matter how annoying she thought she was, she wasn’t going to let her die. She wouldn’t break her oath over something as petty as a grudge. So she teleported all the way to where Coda landed and scooped her up in her arms as she activated her earpiece.

“This is Nightingale to Patient Zero!” She called out and began to run away from the fray. “I need a medic, STAT! Tiny Dancer’s in critical condition! I’m just southeast of the compound, hurry-” Her sentence was cut off as she saw two familiar figures in the distance; Lucky and Nix. “Hold on, I have a visual on you and Profit! I’m coming to you, stay put! Over and out!”

Angel activated a teleportation hack as she ran, instantly appearing right next to the two young soldiers. “Quick, we need to find a place to hide!” She ordered, ignoring their startled expressions and reactions to her sudden entrance. Her eye quickly darted around, and settled on a massive boulder near one of the high walls of the compound. That would have to do.

“You two, follow me!” The tall woman ran as fast as she could, before sliding along the ground to get behind the boulder, Nix and Lucky following suit. Even if their sliding was more of a tumble through the dirt. It was better than nothing. She laid Coda on the ground and positioned herself against the sheet of rock so she was closest to the corner, in the most vulnerable spot. She knew that the two other hackers wouldn’t last long if she had either of them take her place.

Lucky slammed his back up against the rockface, his panicked eyes barely visible through his grime-caked visor. “H-h-how is that guy so strong?!” He cried out, his breathing labored. He looked over to Nix as he was trying to heal Coda, but the medic was obviously just as scared as he was; his only response was a quick shrug and a shake of his head. He then shifted his eyes to Angel, desperate for her to answer. “M-ma’am, what are we going to do…?!”

Angel locked her dark eye with the blonde’s. She knew they were all going to die if she kept everyone in that World; she only had one option. “We’re getting the hell out of here, that’s what,” She answered. “That man alone has taken out two of us in less than a minute, and I’m not going to let that number get any higher.” She then pressed a small button on the side of her helmet to activate her earpiece.

"This is Nightingale to Hub, we're taking heavy fire! Requesting an immediate extraction!" The hacker stated out, trying to hear herself over the chaos. "We have a hacker in our target World! A damn good one! We can’t take him!” She quickly peered around the corner to fire another shot, before ducking back behind the safety of the rockface. “I repeat, we need an extraction for Nightingale, Bloom, Riff, Tiny Dancer, Mimic, Patient Zero, Hound, and Profit! Over!"

To her dismay, all that she could hear from her earpiece was static. Her brows furrowed, and she cursed out in extreme frustration. "Damnit, come on!" Her device must have either broken sometime during the battle, or Xisuma cut off all lines of outside inter-World communication. Now she had no way to contact anyone back at the Hive. How was she going to get her and every other member of her squadron back home in one piece?

Angel let out in exasperated groan and leaned her head back against the boulder. She had to think of something. But her options were few and far between; taking out every other member wouldn’t matter, for Xisuma was the real threat. The idea of getting everyone past the World border and back out into the Void sounded alright, but then she remembered the massive worm that could possibly still be wandering about. Even the most straightforward solution, killing Xisuma, was so far fetched that it would take something close to a miracle to have it work.

But the last option was the best way out. And Angel knew she had to take the plunge. 

She took a breath, and opened her eyes to gaze down at Lucky. “Lucky…” She started, voice cold and determined. “Kill the lights. And make it rain. Hard.”

Angel could see the soldier's eyes widen through his filthy visor, but he gave a hasty nod. “Y-yes ma’am…!” His holographic setup appeared, and his fingers flew across his keyboard. “A-and… a-and can I ask why…?”

The sniper shifted her chilling gaze away from the young blonde and up to the clear blue sky. “You’ll see…”

Not a moment later, the bright warmth of the day transformed into the eerie cold of the night as the sun disappeared and the sky went black in the blink of an eye. Dark clouds rain zapped into existence, crackling with thunder and a terrifying amount of lightning. A heavy downpour of rain soon followed, making the ground slippery and the surroundings almost impossible to see through.

The perfect cover.

Angel poked her head around the corner once again, and to her satisfaction, finally caught sight of Xisuma. He was right out in the open, helping Mumbo to his feet. She knew she couldn’t waste this shot. Or several, for that matter. So she came out of her hiding spot, lifted her rifle, aimed through the scope, activated an aimbot hack for good measure…

And fired a single shot, right at his head.

However, to her frustration and dismay, it was as if the hacker knew it was coming from a mile away. He held up his hand, and a translucent blue sphere pixelated around him and Mumbo. The bullets smashed against the forcefield, but couldn’t break through in the slightest. Just as quickly as it appeared, the dome dissipated, and Xisuma flew off up into the sky.

The sniper frowned as she swiftly reloaded her rifle. Xisuma surely was skilled, and not just with hacks. He was hypervigilant, light on his feet, and although his combat could be improved, it was still effective enough to take out several of her colleagues without breaking a sweat.

Angel gritted her teeth, and swiftly sprang herself up as she initiated both a flight hack and an invisibility. She disappeared and sped off into the stormy skies after her target, holstering her rifle. If he could dodge an aimbot assisted bullet, the gun wasn’t going to be of much use. She had to get up close and personal to kill him.

Cold rain pelted against her sleek armor as she soared and closed in on the hacker. And before Xisuma realized who was behind him, the woman used one final boost of speed close the distance between them, followed by her locking her arms around his figure to subdue him.

“Wh- HEY!!” Xisuma cried out, struggling against Angel’s iron grip. “LET GO OF ME!!” He and the woman continued to fly through the pouring rain, each fighting for control. 

A roar of thunder sounded, sending a massive tremor through Angel's body. "There's no way I'm letting you go." She growled as she deactivated her invisibility to show herself. She faced her opponent, before reaching into her pocket and whipping out a garrote wire. She knew what she had to do. “As good as you are, you’re not getting out of this alive.” The woman then took the steel wire and quickly wrapped it around Xisuma’s throat, choking him.

But just after the sniper began her attempt at strangling the man, he did something she didn’t expect. Instead of reaching for his throat right away, he gripped both sides of her helmet tightly, and suddenly Angel felt an excruciating wave of pain wash over her body. Her skin burned, her eye watered, her head pounded so hard she thought it would explode. What was he doing?! She tried to endure the horrible sensation as she saw her own body start to glitch in a cloud of pixels, but she couldn’t hold back her instinctive reaction.

“GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Her ear piercing scream of agony echoed through the lightning filled sky as she tried to break free from his grasp, even making the decision to unwrap her wire from his neck to fight back. But he kept his hands locked on her head, and to her horror, her energy started to drain, as if he was sucking the life right out of her. Her mind turned woozy, making her attempt to break free much more difficult.

After what felt like hours of falling and struggling and her stamina draining, Angel felt so weak that she almost let go of Xisuma. However, her opponent’s surprise move must have had an effect on him too, because just as Angel felt on the verge of losing consciousness, his eyes rolled back in his head and he stopped flying, causing the two of them to take a nosedive towards the ground below.

Angel saw this as a chance to gain the upper hand. Trying to stay awake as she and her opponent dive bombed through the storm, she tightened her grip on his throat. But she instantly became more alert as his eyes suddenly snapped open and began struggling once more, trying to pull the wire away from his neck.

The pair continued hurling towards the earth alongside the rain, locked in a dangerous game of flatliner. Angel tightened the wire around her opponent’s neck further, determined to be the victor. But with whatever Xisuma had done to her, she was extremely tired and on the verge of fainting. So the final result of their skirmish couldn’t be predicted.

One thing could be said, however; with how Xisuma’s fighting was becoming weaker by the second, it was obvious that he was close to passing out. His gloved fingers soon started to slip away from the wire, his choking could no longer be heard over the howling wind, his face was turning purple. All the sniper had to do was hang on a bit longer-

“XISUMA!!”

Out of nowhere, a new voice called out over the thunder, followed by someone ramming into the two hackers. The force of the blow caused Angel to lose her grip on Xisuma and go spiraling away, off on her own path towards the ground. Although she only caught a glimpse of the figure, she was able to just about make out a younger man in a red shirt through her rain slick visor, gliding away with the large pair of elytra strapped to his back. A green blur could be seen dangling loosely in his arms. Xisuma.

“GAH!!” The glitching sniper snapped her eye wide open as she realized she was now in complete freefall. She tried to activate a flight hack to slow her descent, but to her surprise, nothing happened. Perhaps she was just so exhausted that she needed a bit more time… a luxury that she might not be able to afford, given how close she was getting to the ground. She took a breath, gritted her teeth, and gave another try.

But again, her attempt at flying failed. What was going on?! Her mind raced at the options it could have been, but every possibility sounded more ridiculous than the next.

A scary realization suddenly came over Angel. What Xisuma did. What made her feel so tired and weak in the first place. What made her unable to use her powers…

Xisuma leeched her hacks.

An ability reserved only for use on traitors of the Shadowbyte Army, leeching was used to take away one’s hacks, before ultimately being executed. The greatest amount of shame somebody could feel before death; having their precious gift given to them by Ecryptos taken away. The feeling of failing the savior who took them under his wing, the one who gave them a home when they had nobody else to turn to…

At least Ecryptos had the kindness in his heart to put them out of their misery.

But that was the thing that set Angel’s mind racing. Ecryptos was the only known hacker that could accomplish such a feat. He created leeching hacks, after all. So how could Xisuma have to ability to do only what the Army’s general could?

As much as her mind demanded an answer, her focus had to shift to the situation in front of her; not fall to her death. Her gaze darted all over the field below her, moving from person to person. One of them had to be one of her colleagues. She then reached for her earpiece and yelled out over the wind and rain, silently hoping that Xisuma didn’t disable all lines of communication.

“This is Nightingale to all!” She stated, trying to slow down her descent by spreading her arms and legs out. She heard that even her voice was glazed over with static and glitching, but she continued. “I need immediate assistance! My flight hacks are disabled and I’m falling fast! One of you, catch me before I touch down, over!”

Static filled her ears once more, and her heart stopped. Nobody could hear her, and she was about to touch down any second… was this it? Her last moment? She couldn’t see any other way out of it. Accepting her fate was the only thing she could do. So she closed her eye, and let the thought of death take hold-

“HOLD ON!”

A voice called out over the rain, followed by Angel feeling a pair of arms scoop her out of the air. What? She weakly tilted her head up, and saw one of her own, a Special Ops Shadowbyte soldier. Jazz!

But the moment of relief washing over her didn’t last for long. Before she knew it, both her and Jazz made a rough landing on the ground, and she immediately collapsed out of exhaustion and into the mud.

“Ma’am!” Jazz stated, trying to help the fallen Angel to her feet. “What happened?!”

“I…” She breathed, her eyelid heavy and droopy. She could still hear the glitching in her voice. “Xisuma… the hacker… he leeched… he leeched my hacks…”

Her shaking words silenced the soldier. “...what…?!” He asked, glancing around them, as if to try and find the man. “He leeched them?! How-”

The taller woman then placed her hands on his shoulders to cut him off. “Jazz… listen to me,” She stated, still trying to catch her breath. “Listen to me carefully. There’s almost no chance of me getting out of here in my current state, but I can try to help the ones that can. I need to know who’s still alive.” As much as she didn’t want to die, she knew that her chances of survival were slim to none.

Jazz was stunned for a moment, but he took a breath and nodded. “Y...yes ma’am,” He continued to dart his eyes around. “Sakura’s still up, I know that for sure. She’s still in her mech.” He leaned his head to gesture behind his superior, where sure enough, the giant R.O.S.A. was fending off several attackers. “I don’t know where Lucky and Nix are, but I hope they found a place to hide-”

A loud BANG sounded through the roaring wind, followed by a slow metallic creak and a harsh THUNK. The younger soldier glanced over Angel’s shoulder, and after a split second of confusion, his eyes suddenly widened in sheer panic.

“...oh shit, shit, shit, shit…!”

Before Angel could say anything, Jazz suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and ran in the opposite direction of where Sakura was. She struggled to keep up alongside him, taken aback by the sudden action. Why was he running? 

She glanced over her shoulder to see what had happened. The R.O.S.A. had collapsed onto its side, smoke billowing out of the giant metal machine. Part of the engine was sticking out, letting off an unsettling red glow that got brighter and brighter by the second. Many people could be seen running or scrambling away, Sakura among them-

And then the mech was consumed in a ball of red fire, exploding with a thunderous BOOM. Angel was sent flying backwards, the only sound in her ears being a loud and constant ringing. Out of instinct, she covered her arms over her head in an attempt to protect herself as she landed and skidded harshly along the muddy ground. Several large chunks of debris and shrapnel fell onto and around her sprawled figure like hail, some causing much more pain than others. 

For what felt like hours, the sniper heard nothing but the loud ringing. She had to get up, before she could be apprehended. But the moment she cracked open her eye, she was faced with utter chaos. And although her blurry vision was fading in and out, along with the ringing in her head refusing to cease, she saw dozens of swiftly moving shapes and colors and light. The faint crackling of nearby flames and echoing screams of pain and terror barely reached her ears. And the smell… the strong, pungent smoke from the explosion overpowered nearly everything else. The only other scent she could pick up was sickeningly dry and sweet, almost metallic. Blood. Whether it was hers or somebody else's, she couldn’t tell.

She slowly rolled over onto her side, and was met with a new sight. There was a figure right next to her on the ground, a black and grey blur stained with crimson. The metallic smell of blood became much stronger as she tried to get a clearer picture by leaning closer. Her stomach soon dropped as she realized who it might have been.

Now Angel had to move. No matter how badly her vision was fading, no matter how much of her consciousness was slipping away, no matter how feeble she felt; she needed to get out of there.

But before she could try and get up, the last bit of her vision was consumed by darkness, and her body went limp as she fell into an unwanted and dreaded slumber.

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

Could I request some hcs or positivity for Queen with memory loss due to CPTSD?

Content Warning: Mentions and depictions of domestic violence, child abuse and vomiting

“You all remember the show that was on when we were kids with the donkey?” Freddie asked, swirling the wine glass in his head.

Brian popped up from his stool at the bar, eyes sparkling, “Yes! The mule! What was it’s name? It was a puppet wasn’t it? A ghastly one too.” 

John drained the last of his beer before saying, “Muffin the Mule?”

“Yesss! That’s it! Wait how did you remember that? You were just a tot when it finished airing,” Freddie asked with furrowed eyebrows.

John shrugged, poking his temple. “Got a good memory,”

“What about you, Roger? You remember that freakish mule?” Brian asked, swaying a little to the radio playing in the background.

Roger froze, hands tightening around his pint. He was hoping if he stayed quiet, they wouldn’t ask him about the damn donkey. But of course they did.

He blinked, mind whirring to the past, a place filled with holes and craters. Black holes where memories should be. Punches of nothing where a childhood, laughter and toys, should be. 

He didn’t remember Muffin. Or if they even had a telly. Or if he ever heard of the show from school friends. He didn’t remember his fifth birthday either. He didn’t remember what his favorite toy was as a kid. All he remembered was work boots stomping on tile. A glass cup smashing on the ground. Big hands. Big hands. Around his thr-

Roger took his beer glass, a shaky hand bringing it to his lips, downing the whole thing with two painful gulps. 

He wiped the foam from his upper lip, praying there wasn’t any panic in his eyes. 

“Never heard of it,” he said before asking the bartender for a round of shots. The first of many that night.

♚

“Blimey, Rog, you really outdid yourself tonight,” Brian grumbled as he and John tried their best to carry a slurring and wobbling Roger back to the flat. 

Roger just giggled, head hanging limply, feet dragging behind him. 

“And you could’ve paid for you tab y’know. Nearly made me declare bankruptcy, you bitch,” Freddie added, frowning at his wallet in his pocket which was a bit too light for his preference. 

I wish I never married your bitch of a mother. Then you would’ve never been born!

Roger shivered but started to laugh uproariously, his whole body shaking. “Promise to not hit me, Fred?” Roger managed to say between his fit of giggles.

Freddie rolled his eyes at his friend’s drunk antics. “I don’t fancy corporal punishment, darling,” 

“Wish dad could’ve said that himself,” Roger said with a snicker, slumping further down in his friends grips.

Brian and John struggled to hoist him back up, Brian shaking his head all the while. “What are you blubbering on about mate?” he asked as he readjusted Roger’s arm around his neck. 

“Muffin! I don’t remember her,” Roger answered, although none of them could decipher how that made any sense. 

“Yeah. I remember you said that earlier. No b-” John was cut off.

“I don’t remember nothing!” Roger said, breaking out into giggles. 

“‘Cause you’re drunker than a skunk, Rog,” Brian said.

Roger shook his head, lips pressing together. “Nu-uh. I don’t remember shit. ‘Cuz me dad beat me too much. Uh-huh,” Roger tried to use his finger to hush himself, as if to say this was all a big secret, but he ended up pressing his finger to John’s lips. 

“I beat you were one naughty kid,” Freddie said, only imagining how rambunctious and obnoxious a 4 year old Roger Taylor could have been. His poor, poor mother.

Roger’s tone suddenly changing, the laughing abruptly stopping, his face melting into something serious. There was a glint in his eye that made Brian shiver. 

“I was a good kid. Real good. I did the chores. Cleaned my room. The dishes. Ate my vegetables. And he didn’t care. Not even a little. He didn’t care, Freddie. I was so good and he didn’t care,” Roger’s hair hung in his face as he looked down at the moving pavement. 

He remembered his first broken nose at 6. He remembered how the bruises on his arms looked. He remembered what his mom’s screams at 3am sounded like. 

He couldn’t wrack his brain hard enough to find anything else. A single shred of evidence that he had a enjoyable childhood. As if the only thing that imprinted itself into his mind where adrenaline filled moments. Everything else was smudged like wet paint, splattered with blood and pricked with tears. 

There was nothing else. 

Nothing. 

A strangled sob found it’s way out of Roger’s mouth. And then another. The world began to spin dangerously. John’s hand on his neck, the one stabilizing him, felt big. So big. And he was so little. So little. Defenseless. Weak. He was a child. Roger was a child and all he knew was pain.

The first spray of vomit erupted before anyone could react to Roger’s initial cries. 

Everyone panicked, Brian and John setting Roger down gently onto his knees. Freddie ran over to pull his hair out of his face and rub his back. There were echoes of “Are you okay?” and “Roger, it’s alright,” But Roger was too busy upchucking his stomach contents, his thoughts erratic, eyes leaking.

My dinner’s an hour late. You think I’m happy with you right now, bitch?

Why the fuck would you wake me up from my nap? It’s like you want to be beat, you little shit!

I stepped on one of your toys. Come here. I said, come here, Roger!

His stomach was empty, but he kept forcefully retching, wanting the memories to spill out of him to join the puddle of stomach acid before him. Nothing would come up.

Roger let out a frustrated cry, arms shaking. “I can’t remember Muffin the Mule! I can’t remember it! I can’t remember anything! I can’t remember anything!!!”

He was covered in tears, snot and spit, quaking as he screamed his throat raw above his own waste in the middle of the road. The three others huddled around him, hesitating on what to do. They had a vague idea of what was happening, but they’d try to help the best they could. 

There was hands on the small of his back. Fingers running through his hair. Feather light squeezes on his shoulders. Hushes, whispers and coos. Roger wanted to fight it. He wanted to stay here until he screeched his throat raw, until he died, but he was unable to fight the comfort. He found himself melting in their touch. Melting away. Until his eyes fluttered shut. Until he didn’t remember what happened next.

♚

There was sunlight sneaking into the otherwise dark room through a crack in the curtains. The air smelled like toast and bacon. 

Roger’s eyes fluttered open, bleary and confused. But he was so warm and comfortable. A strange mix of emotions to feel. He went with it though, snuggling deeper into the blankets, head sinking into the fluffy pillow. 

He was ready to drift back asleep, uncaring of where he was or what happened when the softest touch landed on his side. He cringed, but it was accompanied by an even softer voice.

“Roger, don’t worry, it’s me,” Roger relaxed when he heard John whisper. He rolled over in bed to find John laying in bed next to him. He was still in his clothes from the night before, all curled up because Roger had unknowingly hogged all the blankets.

“They put me on ‘Roger watch’ cuz I was the most sober,” John said with a quiet laugh. 

The events from the night before came reeling back. The drinking and the stupid mule and the break down and oh god.

Roger broke out into a sweat, panic gripping him. He shot up in bed, ready to jump out and run. To where? No clue. All he knew was that he was terrified. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. He was supposed to smile and pretend like everything was okay until he croaked. He wasn’t supposed to tell people about that. He w-

“Hey, hey, Rog. It’s okay. You’re fine. Everything is okay. What happened last night..is fine. You take your time. We’re here to listen whenever you’re ready. For now, just relax. We’re gonna take care of you,” John said as he eased Roger back down into bed, brushing some hair out of his face.

Roger just nodded, letting himself be pushed back down, eyes wide. Only then did he realize how tired he was. How his bones were aching, head pounding. 

Just then, the door creaked open, Brian and Freddie walking in. Brian carried a plate of everything a hung over man could dream of. Eggs, toast, bacon, pancakes and a heaping cup of orange juice. Freddie just held a bottle of aspirin, unable to cook himself. 

Roger looked at both of their faces, unable to find an ounce of pity or awkwardness. Just sincere smiles and loving eyes. 

“I...” Roger wanted to speak, but nothing came out. Freddie shook his head, ushering in Brian. 

“Darling, eat up. We have all the time in the world to talk,” he said as he sat on the side of the bed, pinching at Roger’s cheek. 

“Yeah, eat up. I busted out my mum’s pancake recipe for you,” Brian said, handing Roger the plate and glass. 

John hummed, face burying into the pillow, apparently not having slept at all that night. “We love you, mate,” he mumbled before drifting off.

Roger took the food, swallowing hard. Maybe there weren’t words for any of this. Maybe he’d never be able to explain himself or his gratitude. But right now, as he scarfed down his breakfast, Roger hoped he’d remember this moment. 

His past was a vortex that would take years to get over, to move on from. And he’d probably never get any good memories back. But he could make good ones starting from that very moment. He could make memories to last a life time.

[petrachord]

astra inclinant (Chpt 2 out of 29)

Chapter Title: umbra

Translation: “shadow” or “ghost”

Fandom: One Piece

Links: AO3 and FFN

Once, Mother told him in secret that they’d wanted a second child for his sake.

“Why?” he asked and she had shook her head, an old little smile on her lips. She never did answer him, but Rosi arrived all the same.

He was very shy and meek, not one for confrontation. Did weird things like thanking and interacting with the slaves. Also cried. A lot.

They had nearly nothing in common, but he worshiped Doflamingo anyway. Followed him around everywhere and tried desperately to impress him. It gave Doflamingo all sorts of strange feelings inside he didn’t know how to account for. He supposed the slaves deferred to him as well, but Rosi was different. An equal. He didn’t have to constantly totter after him or call for him or really have anything to do with him at all.

But he seemed to want to. And he always did.

“I love you, brother,” Rosi would say sometimes, softly, as if he thought it needed to be said.

Doflamingo supposed he understood what Rosi meant. He appreciated Rosi’s love like he would a pretty sunrise—something he recognized at a distance and was always pleased by but could never quite fathom the idea of touching.

Not to say he didn’t try. Not to say he didn’t love him back in the only way he knew how.

“You are mine.”

===

It took a mere year for the Donquixote Family to make its name. They ran drug rings and slave trade, smuggling weapons to the hands of tyrants. Entire towns burned to the ground and grown men begged for the lives before expiring. There was blood enough for days.

Trebol and Diamante praised Doflamingo endlessly for their successes, attributing him to their growing power and the spreading horror of their names. It was rather funny how satisfied they were already.

Because he sure as fuck wasn’t.

The enterprise required expansion and when he turned seventeen, he declared they’d be taking their business to the seas. Pica and Diamante laughed uproariously, fantasizing of plunder and women and luxury. Trebol’s thoughts were of prestige and fame, rambling from then on about emperors and warlords.

Perhaps people like them could not understand. There was only one objective Doflamingo gave a rat’s ass about and that had nothing to do with treasure or the absurd system of the Shichibukai.

Only Vergo seemed to have half a clue.

“Piracy, huh?” he pondered once, leaning against the rail of their most recently…commandeered ship, “You’ve a knack for poetics, Doffy.”

Doflamingo rested his chin on a palm. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Going out onto the waves,” Vergo’s shades glinted beneath the noon rays, reflecting the crisp waters, “A full circle.”

Doflamingo snickered. He immensely enjoyed these moments of perception from Vergo.

“We’re all buried at sea.”

A small smile crossed Vergo’s lips as he lit another cigarette. The wind was blowing out to the waves, heady tobacco blending together with the salt spray. Doflamingo inhaled, focusing upon it.

And didn’t bother acknowledging the shadow of eight-year old Rosinante sitting on the rail between them.

===

The hallucinations had begun out of nowhere. One moment, Doflamingo was having the time of his life, pounding into some moaning tart in the backroom of a local pub and the next Rosi was standing at the edge of the bed, peering into his face.

Doflamingo swore, nearly crushing the girl in his rush to scramble off of her. His recent growth spurt had made him long and heavy, and the dresser tipped over when he kicked it accidentally.

The girl didn’t even seem to notice the thundering crash it made. She didn’t even seem to notice he was gone at all, as she lay sprawled on the bed still, gasping, a blush of pleasure across her snowy cheeks.

Doflamingo’s mouth went dry. Rosi straightened, hands behind his back, as if he were about to start rocking on his heels. He looked exactly the same as when Doflamingo had last seen him. Sweat and dirt-stained, clothes worn, that thumbprint of their father’s blood at the corner of his chin from where Doflamingo had touched him.

Rationally, it couldn't have been real. He still surveyed the islands across the North Blue and kept a tap on the local news, but had long stopped expecting anything. It had been seven years after all. At this point, Rosi was either dead or didn’t want to be found.

“No,” Doflamingo growled, “No, no, you don’t get to do this to me.”

“What was that, hon?” the girl murmured, eyes clearing, “Hey, what are you doing over there? Fun’s back this way, big boy.”

She sat up, slinking right past Rosi. Her long hair was still dark and wet with rainwater. She smelled of her muddy traipse through the storm when Diamante had demanded whores for company. A cool bird-like hand took him by the wrist, guiding it to her lily-white breast.

“Come on now,” she said softly, fingers resting over his knuckles, “Don’t be shy.”

Doflamingo yanked his hand back and made her jump.

“Shut up.” He pointed toward the side of the bed, right at Rosi’s blank face. “Do you see anything there? Just nod or shake your head.”

The girl looked startled, hesitating a beat that made Doflamingo want to smack her in his impatience. But then she turned, glancing at his brother without comprehension and shook her head.

Doflamingo refused to let the icy grip of panic take him.

“Get out,” he snarled to the girl and wrenched his pants off the floor, far from aroused anymore.

“W-What? But you still have an hour—“

“Did you not hear me?” Doflamingo grinned and the girl paled. For an incredible second, it almost seemed she wanted to keep protesting, before self-preservation kicked in and she nodded, scooping up the crumpled pile of her dress.

It wasn't until her footsteps had faded down the hall that he managed to turn himself around again. Rosi was still there, sitting on the upturned dresser and idly kicking his feet.

“What do you want?” Doflamingo asked quietly.

He was stared at. The expression was mostly blank, save for a faint shadow of reproach, of child-like disapproval with him that Doflamingo remembered so well his stomach curled. Fuck, he was too young to be going crazy.

“I looked for you,” he said, “I really did. But you were gone. I think you’re probably dead actually. You’re not here to blame me, are you?”

Rosi’s face softened. He hopped to his feet, touching the floorboards without a sound, and for a second, Doflamingo thought he was walking towards him and couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

But Rosi halted at the end of the bed, crouching near the post. He stared at Doflamingo, before looking down.

A dropped photograph lay half-wedged between linen and wood. It was yellowed and creased with too many folds. A young raven-haired girl hugging a woman in a wheelchair.

Doflamingo recognized the hair first. It had just been fanned out over the pillows only minutes ago after all and ah, that’s right, he’d chatted with her pimp, hadn’t he? And learned the whole tragic tale. A dying mother. A life of poverty. She sold herself for a handful of pills.

Diamante had laughed and laughed until he cried. (God, the sentiment in people, am I right Doffy?)

Doflamingo hadn't laughed. Fraying hair and brittle wrists had crowded his memory then. And coughing. Endless coughing.

Rosi stared at him, nearly bending backwards just to meet his gaze. The torn hem of a lilac dress was clutched between his fingers.

Doflamingo slid on his glasses.

In the end, he fucked no one and left over twice the entitled payment for the stunned woman, storming out of the pub and into the wet cloud-ridden dark. Diamante didn’t protest much, cowed beneath the seething blackness of Doflamingo’s glare.

The photograph was still in his hand, growing increasingly wet and ruined. His trembling grip crumpled it further. With a burst of crimson petulance, he thought about setting fire to the entire pub and tossing it into the flames.

Instead, it slipped through his fingers to lie in the rain.

Rosi was gone.

===

He kept coming back.

Every time Doflamingo tried to do anything even remotely interesting. Or further the many meticulous plans he’s laid out, Rosi would be there.

Sometimes, in the pristine satin robe of a Celestial Dragon. Sometimes, in the rags their father had reduced them to.

Always watching.

Over the next few years, Doflamingo grew used to seeing him in doorways and windows, seated at the table while Vergo made reports, or spattered with the guts of whomever Pica had slaughtered for laughing at his voice.

Ignoring him to do what he pleased resulted in nightmares. And a left eye that seared with such agony he once nearly gouged it out.

By that juncture, Doflamingo was sincerely contemplating if he'd gone insane. He’d done a vast amount of reading in his spare time, determined to educate himself, and concluded that at some point he'd suffered a psychotic break.

Doflamingo could not fathom why or when. He hardly thought he was broken.

But what else could this be? He wondered, standing in the rubble of another nameless town, Trebol giggling and Rosi huddled amongst the corpses, cradling Father’s head like a toy.

===

“You really should leave me alone.”

Doflamingo was twenty-three and Gold Roger had been dead for six years.

The Grand Line festered with impossible dreams. A torrent of skull sails poured in, each with their own silly little design and captain, here to pursue their silly little goals.

A new era was rumbling on the horizon. Unwritten history with the quill poised on the page. How Doflamingo fantasized about tearing a hole straight through it all. There were so many ideas rambling in his head these days, so many horrible and hilarious things to achieve.

The crew had grown like a rising swell. It sufficiently sized now to organize into individual teams and supervising officers. They were all misfits, orphans and freaks to some degree, ostracized and barely existing on the fringes of society. No one wanted them, which was a waste and a shame, because there was such talent to be found.

Lao G from death row and Jora from the streets. The latest recruit, Senor Pink, had been plucked out of the jaws of a loan shark and was blinking at him with puzzlement.

“Young Master?” He spoke, all caution, and Doflamingo’s gaze trailed down from the bookcase, where his still eight-year old brother swung his feet.

“It’s nothing,” he reassured, shoving aside his own surprise that he’d spoken out loud, “So a little lady’s smitten with you, is she?”

Senor Pink blushed as deep as his namesake. “W-Well it’s nothing very serious. Just a few dates really. But since we’re going to be docked here until the log pose updates, I just thought…uh…”

Doflamingo pretended to listen as he prattled on. He kept tabs on every interesting development and was already well-aware of Senor Pink’s pretty, pretty Russian. They were discussing marriage at this point, far beyond a “few dates,” and Doflamingo was not pleased at all that his subordinate thought to hide things from him. Trebol had already urged that the relationship needed ending by force, worried about a division in Pink’s loyalties. Having yet to see any evidence of this, Doflamingo hadn’t bothered. He liked Pink and didn't like suspecting family.

Even if things changed all the time.

“My dear Senor,” Doflamingo said, abruptly interrupting the other man, “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? You are lying and I’m frankly quite offended you presume me so easy to evade.”

Oho, he’d forgotten how white of a shade Senor Pink could turn. Even better than that petrified bird impression of Jora’s. A corner of Doflamingo, which was forever a ten year old boy burning in the flames, was alight with vicious glee. Fear was not nearly so practical as devotion, but it was fun to see all the same.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I was going to tell you sooner, but there was just never…She thinks I’m a banker, she doesn’t know that I’m…well, I-I guess I’m afraid she might—“

“What, Pink?” Doflamingo tilted his head. “Leave you? Send the Marines after me? Is she a bigger problem than I’d initially thought?”

The man’s eyes widened. Fat beads of sweat trickled from his perfectly coiffed hair and he nearly stumbled over himself to correct him.

“What? No, no, Young Master, she’s not a threat at all. I-I swear she knows nothing. She’ll never know anything. You don’t have to waste your time.”

“Never a waste of time where my family’s concerned,” Doflamingo chided, smiling coolly, “I've been abundantly clear. Mistakes can be excused. But betrayal…”

“I would never betray you,” Senor Pink said, fists squeezing and voice thick, “Never. Not for anyone. Please, Young Master, leave her be. I-I’ll…I’ll break things off with her today if you want me to. Give me any punishment you see fit for lying.”

His head was bowed and oh god, he was close to tears, was it really so serious a thing, eheh. Doflamingo fiddled with his options. Something from the frozen depths of him mused on killing her anyway and making Senor Pink dispose of the body. He’d never been partial to the notion of sharing…

Fingertips brushed his elbow. Doflamingo blinked and Rosi was sitting on the desk with blood coming out of his eyes.

===

(Senor Pink cringed like a dog awaiting a kick when Doflamingo suddenly cursed, nails screeching against polished wood.

“You’ve picked the wrong time,” the Young Master snarled and terror wrung Pink's stomach a little harder. As far as captains went, the Young Master was in his own league. A towering god among men. Power exuded from his every pore, but he was still surprisingly generous and reasonable, even if impossible to predict.

And certainly while those rare moments of anger were frightening beyond description, crew members were never subjected to it as long as they remained useful and did as they were told. He always made his expectations so very clear and Senor Pink would not dare resent him for that.

No, everything had simply been his own fault. He’d fucked up for real and now he’d never see or hear or touch her again.

“Get lost.”

Senor Pink stiffened.

“I said get lost, Rosi.”

Senor Pink raised his head).

===

“…Sir?”

Doflamingo’s jaw creaked as he glared into Rosi’s stained and dirty face, ignoring the shudder that echoed through his soul.

“Young Master?” a voice warbled through his senses, “Who are you…?”

Doflamingo turned back to Senor Pink, who flinched just at his gaze. He made a single alarmed glance at the empty space Doflamingo had been snapping at and did not attempt to move or speak again.

Eyes narrowed, Doflamingo considered the man impatiently. He had an inkling then of what would send Rosi away. It wasn’t the statement he’d prefer to make and he would probably never hear the end of it from Trebol, but he wanted Pink gone now.

“…If you watch her well,” he said slowly, “And never forget where your loyalties lie…then I could care less what you do.”

Senor Pink gaped, his previous unease crushed instantly beneath the weight of hope.

“S-Sir, do you mean…a-and it’s okay if we…”

Doflamingo sighed, resisting the urge to rub his temples. Oh well, he was bored of this whole situation anyway.

“Don’t lie to me again. Now get out.”

Senor Pink bowed so low his forehead was nearly level with the desk. He didn’t dare to ask what had changed his mind.

“Thank you, Young Master,” he said, voice trembling, “For your forgiveness.”

Doflamingo snorted as the door clicked shut after him. Forgiveness, huh?

“What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

But he was already in the room alone.

[incorrectsanders]

Fear

So, I know this isn’t my usual content but I couldn’t get that post about Pride!Roman and Virgil being created by fear out of my head. I can’t find either of them now, so if you know them, please send me them so I can give credits! uHHH I really hope you guys like this. Let me know if I should do more writing. Also posting this at one in the morning with minimal editing.

Edit!: Found the fear post

Warnings: Deceit, Manipulation, Implied abuse, Violence (not graphic)

Virgil hated storms. They were loud and obnoxious and dangerous- so many things could go wrong in a storm. He hated having to think of all the possible things that could go wrong constantly as it was, and in storms like this, that was only amplified.

The others helped calm that down, though. They all manifested together, they gathered around Thomas’ living room, they took Virgil’s mind off of the danger.

“Mario Party, again? We played three rounds of that just last week.” Logan protested, and Roman only dramatically sputtered, throwing his hands up.

“And we played your stupid brain games that night as well!”

“PROFESSOR LAYTON IS NOT A GAME, IT IS AN ART FORM” Logan shouted. Virgil giggled lightly, snuggling into Patton’s side. This made things a lot easier. Light bickering, soft cuddles, Patton’s hand slowly twirling in his hair, Thomas sighing and trying to solve quarls. It was like routine for them.

What was not routine was the three branch that came crashing through the window that sent them all screaming and jumping from their places on the couch.

“Well isn’t this lovely.” A new voice came, only sending them screaming again. Virgil gasped shakily when he realized who the figure was, trying to look towards Roman. The prince had already realized though, and was currently tugging Virgil into his arms, his eyes wide and his sword drawn.

“W-Who…” Thomas started, glancing quickly between the broken window and back at the stranger on the couch. A new side? Physically, he was identical to all the others. He wore a green cloak, much like the reapers constantly displayed in media, and he had a black Phantom of the Opera mask covering half of his face. His voice… was chilling.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Fear.” He said, smirking up at Roman and Virgil, who were curled up into each other. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, my pets?” He asked. Virgil hissed at him, but gasped as the figure lifted one finger and gestured towards him. He involuntarily went stumbling over, landing in the others arms.

“Roman!” Virgil cried.

“Let him go, Phobos!” Patton shouted, taking a couple steps forward.

“Fear?! Is this another side Deceit has been hiding?!” Thomas asked quickly.

“Not quite…” Fear sing-songed, holding Virgil close as the side started thrashing in his grip. The others kept their distance, knowing what could happen if they got too close.

“Thomas, Fear is… different than the rest of us. He’s more powerful, he overrides all of us. Not unlike Virgil during one of his attacks… but he can only manifest when there’s an immediate threat. He’s… supposed to keep you safe but in your case he’s a bit… debilitating.” Logan spoke slowly.

“I thought Virgil keeps me safe?!” Thomas protested, and Logan shook his head a little. “It’s different.” He said, watching as Virgil slowly started calming down in Fear’s grip. “Anxiety is a reaction towards something that could happen. Fear is a reaction to something that is happening… He can’t be here when there isn’t a threat about to hurt you.”

“Which is why I made him. To have my say in things at all time.” Fear smirked. “Mine. My little pet. Why haven’t you come visit me? I’ve been missing my little pets lately.” He cooed, smirking up at Roman, who’s eyes narrowed.

“Yours?!” Patton hissed. Thomas looked over, shocked. He’d never seen Patton speak with that kind of malice before.

The figure laughed, moving over and tracing his black gloved hand down Virgil’s jaw.

“Of course... always been mine. I raised him. Didn’t I darling?” He cooed lightly. Virgil felt himself getting weaker despite his efforts to fight against the aspect. As much as he liked to believe he was good now, it was true. Fear created him, raised him to be his perfect little pet. He sent him to the light sides to be his own personal spy.

“Yes, Sir.” He breathed. A smirk curled over Fear’s lips as Virgil’s eyes started glowing green, the man’s signature color.

“Virgil-“ Patton started, only for the dark side to sneer.

“Anxiety.” He corrected. “He doesn’t need a name. He’s not a side. No no, he’s just my little pet.” He said, gently tilting the boy’s chin up. Virgil couldn’t even protest, he looked up into the man’s eyes and his body went soft. He belonged to his creator, after all.

Logan glanced between the two, getting tenser and taking a step forward.

“L-Logan?”

“What is it, Anxiety?”

The man was at his desk, sketching out a new schedule for the next week. Anxiety felt horrible bothering him but he was the calmest one. Patton would only screech and hug him to death if he came to him with this and Roman was a horrible idea.

“I was... wondering if you can help me pick out a name.”

Logan stopped then, looking up at the other aspect.

“You don’t have one?” He asked slowly. That made sense. How Anxiety constantly deflected questions about his name, why none of them even knew it.

“Dark sides don’t... have names.” He responded. He could hear Dorian laughing. The soft ‘now now, little one, what are we up to here? You wouldn’t want me to tell you-know-who, would you?’ He felt a shiver go up his spine at that... but it was fine. He’d been gone for a long time now. It had been years since they needed him.

“Ah... I see.” Logan said, raising an eyebrow before he waved a hand and conjured up another chair. “Come sit. We’ll find one that fits you.” He said simply.

That’s where the lie was.

“Let him go!” Roman cried, pulling out his sword. Fear only rolled his eyes and flicked a finger, sending the sword flying and sticking into the wall.

“Why would I?” Fear smirked. “He belongs to me. You’d remember that, wouldn’t you?” He asked, his eyes flickering down to Virgil’s. The boy was weak now, leaning into fear with green glowing eyes.

“It’s not my house but purple and green do seem to go together, right?”

The aspect chuckled, slowly petting at Virgil’s hair. He knew every little way to make the younger aspect melt for him. “Or do I have to remind you, Pride?” He asked. Roman sneered in response.

“What is going on?!” Thomas shouted, his eyes flicking between them all. “Logan?!” He asked, looking helplessly to the side.

“I-I don’t-”

“I could tell everyone everything.” Anxiety sneered, glaring up at Roman. The side chuckled under his breath, picking up his black crown.

“Oh but you won’t, will you? Then they’ll send you back with me. You’ll go back to being our little pet.” He purred, placing a ginger finger under his chin and tilting his head up. “So pretty.” He cooed. Anxiety just glared and slapped his hand away.

“Watch your fucking step, Prid-“ He started. Roman glared, pushing him right up against the wall.

“Don’t you ever let me hear you say that name again. I don’t care what Phobos says, you’ll be /done/.” He hissed in the figment’s face. The smaller one nodded slowly and Roman let him go, stalking away. Logan frowned from his place around the corner, wondering what exactly he had just heard.

“As far as I remember, you never had a problem using him either. You were quite fond of him.” Fear cooed, moving over and dragging a finger under the sides chin. Roman glared as his appearance slowly changed, his normal white and red uniform changing to a black and purple one. “You even gave him your color.” He chuckled.

“R-Roman...?” Thomas asked slowly.

“You made him for me, after all.” The side sneered.

“Roman?!” Thomas repeated.

“Thomas, there’s... a lot you don’t know.” Roman said slowly, as his crown was placed on his head and slowly started growing black vines down his face.

“Well, tell him, Pride.” Fear hissed. Roman glared, snatching the crown off his head and throwing it off to the side. The thing hissed, the vines retracting back inside.

“I don’t need to, because that’s not my name anymore.” He said, snatching Virgil away and into his grasp. His eyes faded back to brown and he gave a scared little gasp, rushing to cling to Roman’s uniform. He cried out when he caught the color of it, scrambling away and over to Logan and Patton, who were huddled away now. They easily caught Virgil, holding him in between them and staring at the scene in front of them.

“Vi, no. Not anymore, remember?” Roman spoke gently, changing his colors back with a quick snap of his fingers. “Not anymore.”

“Oh, so I might not have had Roman create half as many of the stories and worlds he did without Virgil giving me reason to. That’s weird...”

The two shared a scared glance. Things were different now. They didn’t want to be found out. They’d agreed together that sticking together would be the smartest thing to do to stay with their family.

Phobos was the master of manipulation. Using their deepest fears to keep them on his side, against the others. That was done now. They were done with him now.

If Thomas found out the real connection between the two of them…

Virgil slowly relaxed, nodding as he clutched his fingers against Logan’s shirt. Roman. Not Pride, Roman.

“Someone tell me what’s going on now!” Thomas demanded.

“Gladly.” Fear grinned. The sight made the host recoil, shifting to stand closer to Logan, Patton, and Virgil. The four hadn’t flinched away from Deceit, but he could see why they were flinching away from Fear. He was terrifying.

“Anxiety is a figment. We all have them. He happens to be mine.” He said simply. “Figments are managed by us. Logic has Sleep, Interest. Morality has Humor, Love. Pride- or ‘Creativity’ as he’s chosen to go by has Lust, Ego. There’s quite a few of them. They’re not full sides, but they help run things along, if you will.”

“Virgil is a side!” Logan shouted. “He manages figments of his own, he’s important to Thomas!”

“Virgil is a side now.” Roman corrected, his voice lower than the others. “He started out as an artificial figment. I created him because Phobos asked me to and-”

“You were in love.” Fear smirked.

“I was a fool.” Roman hissed back.

“He evolved. He changed. He became a side. A pesky little side that was supposed to do as told.” Fear said, looking over at Virgil who only whimpered and curled further into Logan and Patton.

“Well, this is unfortunate.” Phobos hummed, looking between the side and the new figment. “And you say he’s yours?” He asked, looking at the new figment. ‘Attachment’.

“He’s mine.” Anxiety mumbled quietly, head down. Phobos nodded lightly, placing a hand on his head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter too much. You can be a side all you want, but you’re still my little pet, aren’t you? Still gonna listen to me?”

The new side slowly nodded, his eyes fading into green.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I… you can change?” Thomas asked slowly.

“We can change as you do. I was once Curiosity, but that evolved into Logic.” Logan explained slowly.

“I… pretended to be Creativity. I have for a long time, but I’ve evolved into it now. It’s not just an act anymore.” Roman spoke up. “I promise, I-”

“We believe you, Ro…” Patton whispered lightly, nodding to him. The royal relaxed, nodding a bit to him.

Fear looked down, humming as his appearance started slowly fading away. “Oh, drats. I’ll have to visit again soon. Don’t worry.” He smirked, looking over at Virgil, his eyes flashing. “I’ll find a way.” He said, before he, unlike the other sides, faded out of view.

The five figures stood around, slowly catching their breath while they all stared at the spot where the side had been.

“I HAVE SEVERAL QUESTIONS.” Thomas shouted after a minute, as Roman and Virgil finally looked at each other again.

“We should clean up the window, first.” Roman breathed.

[hymn2000]

Chiquitita - MCU AU fanfic - C13

Story summary: Something strange is happening. Someone from space has made their way to Earth, armed with a strange weapon. Targeting teenagers, their ray gun, when fired, turns the victim into a toddler. The Avengers set out to stop this, and find a way to reverse the effects. However, they don’t all come out of the battle unscathed.

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: de-aging, family stuff, corporal punishment (early chapters only), mental health stuff, hurt/comfort

Chapter 13 - Toast

-

Bruce made sure the game worked to Peter’s advantage. He pretended not to see the boy huddled under the hallway chair, and went and found everyone else first before going back and finally ‘discovering’ him.

“You won, kid” Bruce said. “That means you count now. Back to the referee, alright?”

They all went back to the living room. Tony looked up from his phone. 

“How did it go?”

“Peter won” Steve said. “So he’s counting now”

“Alright. Counting to twenty, kid”

“Ok, ok! My turn!” Peter covered his eyes with his hands. “One, two-”

Everyone but the referee went off to hide. Peter counted to ten, and then stopped.

“Umm...” he lowered his hands and looked at Tony. “What’s next?”

“Eleven”

“Eleven... What’s next?”

“Twelve”

“Twelve... What’s next?”

“Count with me, ok? Thirteen, fourteen-”

Tony counted, and Peter tried to follow along. They reached twenty, and Tony chucked him under the chin. 

“Time to find them”

“READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!”

-

Peter found Bruce first. Truth be told, the scientist didn’t try too hard, so he knew he’d be found first. He still acted shocked and disappointed when Peter found him.

Peter giggled happily. “You gotta help me find everyone else now!”

“Ok, ok. Where do you want to look?”

“Down there! Come on!”

They searched together, quickly finding Steve behind the sofa in the back room.

“Found you!!” Peter said, pulling at his arm. “We gotta find aunt Nat and uncle Clint now!”

Finding those two proved a lot more difficult. At first Bruce and Steve just pretended to look, but then they had to actually start helping. 

“This our own fault for playing with Black Widow” Steve said. “Clint’s almost as sneaky too”

“They’ve disappeared” Peter pouted. “Where are they?”

“We’ve got to find them; that’s the point of the game” Bruce said. 

“AUNT NAT!” Peter shouted. “AUNT NAT!!”

“She won’t come out: she’s playing the game” Bruce said. 

Peter stormed about, peering under chairs and tables and behind doors and curtains. He scowled, looking at Bruce and Steve for help.

“We’re looking too” Bruce said. “We’ll find them”

-

They eventually found Nat hidden on top of the wardrobe in one of the spare rooms. Technically, Steve found her. He glanced up by chance, and nearly had a heart attack when he spotted her. Nat had nearly cried laughing. She jumped down from the wardrobe and scooped Peter up in her arms. 

“So that makes me the winner, right?” she grinned, kissing him on the cheek.

Peter giggled and shook his head. “We’ve gotta find uncle Clint!”

Nat’s face fell as she feigned full seriousness. “Well then. Let’s find him”

“We’ve looked everywhere. Any bright ideas?” Bruce asked. 

“I’ll weasel him out”

-

Even Nat couldn’t find Clint. Peter started getting cross, and stalked off to the living room to find Tony.

“Daddy! Come and help us look” he demanded.

“Uhhh” Tony looked up at the other grown-ups. “So, just bird-man left, is it?”

“Yep, just the bird man” Bruce sighed, flopping down on the sofa. “I’m taking a break”

“I think I’ll join you” Steve said. “We’ve done our bit. Time for the big man to step up”

Tony sighed, shoved his phone in his pocket, and hauled himself up out of his seat.

“Let’s go” Tony said. “He’s gotta be round here somewhere. If he’s in the bedroom, I’ll string him up with his own bow and arrow”

-

Tony lost his patience pretty quickly. 

“Where the hell is he?”

Peter whined. “He’s gone! It’s not fair!”

He heard something, and stopped. He turned tail and ran round the corner.

“UNCLE CLINT!!”

“Oh fuck!”

Peter ran at him, and Tony did too. He grabbed him with an arm round the neck.

“Where the hell have you been?” he growled. “We’ve been looking for you for ages”

“You hided for ever!” Peter said, grabbing onto Clint’s leg.

“Ow, Tony! Let go of me!” Clint protested. 

“What were you doing in the hallway?” Nat said, and then she clicked. “You’ve been changing hiding places, haven’t you?”

Peter squawked indignantly. “CHEATER! YOU’RE A CHEATER! DADDY, HE CHEATED!”

“He did! He cheated at hide and seek, the bastard” Tony said, tightening his grip around Clint’s neck. “What shall we do with him, chick?”

“Cover him in honey and feathers like a real bird?” Nat suggested.

“Ooh, that’s a good one” Tony said. “Hmm... My mind’s gone blank”

“Aw come on, be a friend! Let go of me. Peter, let them let me go”

“On ONE condition!” Peter said, letting go of his leg. “I want... I want FOUR dollars”

Clint twisted out of Tony’s grip, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“All I’ve got is a five” he said. 

“I can make that work” Peter said.

Tony snorted, and Nat laughed. Clint gave Peter the fiver. Peter wasn’t sure what to do now that he had it, but he nodded. And then he yawned. 

“I think someone needs a nap” Tony said, scooping Peter up in his arms. “Ready for a little sleep, darling?”

“But what about the game?”

“You’ve finished the game. Come on then; nap time”

-

Loki woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. He stayed in bed a few minutes longer, stretching and allowing himself to wake up properly. He looked at the photo of Peter and Tony on his bedside table. He pushed the frame onto it’s face, and sat up. He supposed he should join everyone again.

-

Bruce had left, having been called away, but the other three were still there. Tony was sat close against Steve, talking with him. Clint and Nat were knelt on the rug having a pretend tea party with little Peter. Well, the drinks were pretend, but they had real food: the big box of jelly babies had been opened, and it looked as though they’d got through a lot of them.

“I think that’s enough sweets for one day” Loki said, swiping the box.

Peter squeaked at him. “Not fair! Daddy said I could have them!”

“Hey baby” Tony grinned when Loki turned to him. “Good sleep?”

Loki scowled. “You could at least try to be responsible”

“Hey, it’s a treat!”

“It’ll spoil his dinner”

“When did you get so serious?” 

Loki rolled his eyes and sat down beside him. He put his arms round his shoulders and glared at Steve, who wisely shifted away from Tony a little.

“Do you want us to go? If you’re going to be having food soon-”

“No! Nah, you can all stay for tea if you want. I haven’t thought about what we’re gonna have yet though” Tony said. 

“We could always get a takeaway” Clint suggested, setting his tea cup down. “That’s an easy option, right?”

“Yeah, or... We could go out?” Tony said.

“Where do you want to go?” Nat asked.

“I don’t know. Somewhere we haven’t been for a while” Tony thought for a moment. “Wagamama’s?”

“That’s Japanese, right?” Nat said. “I haven’t been for ages”

“I’ve never been” Steve said. “Is it good?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. I used to go with May” Tony said. He frowned slightly. 

“When did you last go?” Steve asked gently.

“We went a couple of weeks before she died... So it’s been a pretty long time” he cleared his throat. “So anyway, when was the last time we all went out for a group meal, eh? It could be good”

“I’m up for that” Clint said, and Nat and Steve nodded in agreement. “Loki?”

“What?”

“You up for it?”

“I’ll think about it”

“Better make up your mind, Lolly” Tony said. “It’s getting on for tea time already”

Loki didn’t say anything. Tony found the restaurants menu online, and handed Loki his phone. 

“Have a read through that and see what you think” 

“I think it’s a bad idea. I’ll stay here with Peter”

“Just read the menu, Loki” Tony sighed. 

Loki reluctantly took the phone and scrolled through the menu. He’d been once before with people from the hospital, a long time ago. They’d had a good evening, but Loki was friends with them. Him and Nat still didn’t see eye to eye, and him and Clint were only just starting to be civil with each other. Besides, while big Peter probably would have jumped at the chance, little Peter might get fussy. He might not like the food, and he’d heard from Tony about the boy getting nervous and upset when he was crowded in public. Tony almost always drew a crowd when they went out to eat, so Peter might get upset again. He’d have to put his foot down. Tony wouldn’t like it, and Peter might throw a tantrum, but he could live with that. It was for the best.

-

Loki rested his head on his hand and glared down at the menu. He still wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up there. Maybe it was because Tony had had a go at him. Or maybe it was because Peter had started crying and everyone else had shouted at him for upsetting the boy. Whatever it was, he knew he’d rather be anywhere else but here. 

Peter was stood on the bench, leaning against Tony and looking at the menu. Tony put his menu down and made Peter sit on the bench.

“You need to look at this one” he said, giving Peter one of the kids menus. “Have a little read of that and see what you like the look of”

Peter sat and looked at the menu for a minute. He looked up at everyone. Clint and Steve were bickering over something or other, and Nat was trying to shut them up. Tony was scanning the menu and humming to himself. Loki was looking at a lady sat a few tables over. Peter whined and fixed his gaze on Tony until he was noticed.

“What’s up, my dear? You do look a bit like a deer, actually, come to think of it. Remember Bambi? You look a bit like Bambi. Bambi... Bambino” Tony smiled at him. “What’s up, Bambino?”

Peter looked at the menu, and then back at Tony.

“What does this say?”

The look on Tony’s face could only be described as a strange mix of confusion, disbelief, and amazement at his own stupidity.

“Loki? Loki!”

Loki looked at Tony. “What?”

“I don’t think Peter knows how to read”

“Your point being?”

“Did you know?”

“It’s not something I’d tested” Loki said. “Anything else?”

Tony glared at him. He sighed, and sat Peter on his lap. 

“Ok darling, I’ll read this to you. We’ll find you something yummy, ok?”

Tony helped Peter with the menu. Peter kept one hand on the menu, as though following the words with his finger. It looked as though he knew the odd word.

“Loki?” Tony said. “I think he can read a little bit. Do you think we could teach him?”

Loki just shrugged, not looking up. Tony scowled, and kicked him under the table.

“Ow! Tony! What are you playing at?!”

“What are you playing at?”

“Oh for gods sake-” Loki grumbled, standing up.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Tony demanded.

“I need some air” Loki said, storming off.

Tony sighed heavily, and passed Peter to Steve. “Here, look after him for me”

He stood up and went after Loki. Peter looked up at Steve, biting his thumb.

“Don’t worry, little one” Steve said. “Your daddy just overheats sometimes”

“That’s right” Nat said. “He’ll be ok in a minute or two”

“Exactly” Clint nodded. “Now, what are you going to order?”

-

Tony hauled himself up onto the railing Loki was leaning against.

“I haven’t seen you smoke for a while”

Loki glanced at him, taking another drag. Tony tapped his fingers against the metal.

“What’s going on, chick? You’ve been funny all day” he waited a few seconds. “Is it the M.E?”

“No”

“Ah, you’ve still got a voice, then”

Loki didn’t say anything. Tony watched him for a minute. 

“Is it the PTSD?” he said eventually.

Loki paused. “I’ve never been diagnosed with that”

He put the cigarette to his lips.

“Only because you don’t want to be. We both know you’re symptomatic”

“I’m symptomatic of many things”

Tony sighed. “You’re not helping yourself”

“I don’t need help”

Tony took Loki’s cigarette from him and took a drag. He jumped down from the railing, dropped the stub on the ground, and stepped on it. 

“... I thought he’d have found a reversal by now”

Tony looked at him. “Is that what this is about?”

“I think so”

“You think so?”

“I think we need to talk again”

“Later” Tony put his arms round Loki’s waist. “You’re allowed to relax. You’ve been so serious this week. You’ve never been the strict dad. Well, not really. Not in the same way... Listen, I know I spent a week being rubbish, but I don’t think that means you can do the same”

“I don’t want to step back. I’m just still getting my head round this all. We’ve got pictures of Peter - big Peter - all over the place. I’ve had to change my phone lock screen because it was like being stabbed in the heart every time I checked the time... I love little Peter. I love him more than anything else in the world. I’d do anything for him. But I still miss big Peter”

“I know. I do too” Tony sighed sadly. “But little Peter needs us. He’s a cute little kid. We’ve had a bit of fun with him. He needs both of us... God, it was you saying all this to me a week ago!”

“I know... Liz’s letter, her box, it kinda drove it all home just a little bit more”

“It’s not forever” Tony said. “Loki, I don’t want to think about big Peter. I don’t want to think about the past. I don’t even want to think ahead to when we’ve got teenage Peter back. I know I’ll crack up if I do. We need to focus on the now, right?”

Loki finally wound his arms round Tony. Tony took a deep breath, and kissed him - and Loki kissed him back, hard, holding him closer, tighter, kissing him deeper, resting a hand on the back of his head, and feeling like he understood.

-

The others were wise enough not to ask questions when Tony and Loki came back inside. 

“Right, I think we’re all ready to order” Steve said. 

“Good, I think I’m ready too. Loki?”

Loki nodded. “What about you, Peter?”

“I’m having the same as uncle Steve!” he said proudly.

Everyone laughed at him. Tony ruffled his hair, and set him back in his place.

“And what would that be?”

“Chicken ramen” Steve said. “We thought we could get a handful of sides to share too”

“Good idea” 

“Are you all ready to order?” A waitress asked, stopping at their table.

“We sure are” Tony said, flashing her a smile. “Ladies first. Nat, what are you having?”

-

They were told it might be a bit of a wait on food due to how busy they were, but they didn’t mind.

“Weird having a rush on a Sunday, isn’t it?” Clint said. 

Peter was thoroughly enjoying his new surroundings. It was very bright and different, and he liked looking at what people on the other tables were eating. He was happy looking around while the grown-ups talked. He grinned when their waitress stopped at the table with their drinks.

“Hi again!” he said.

“Hi again, sweetheart!” the waitress smiled, setting a glass of juice down in front of him. “This one must be yours”

Peter wasn’t thirsty, so he left his drink alone for now. However, he was intrigued by the funny ceramic cups all the others had alongside their cold drinks.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Green tea” Tony said. 

“Why don’t I have it?”

“You wouldn’t like it”

Peter pouted. “I want some!”

Tony looked at Loki. “Should we let him try some?”

Loki took a sip of his own tea. It wasn’t too hot, so he nodded at Tony.

“Yes, but support the cup”

Tony helped Peter take a little drink of his green tea. Peter’s face screwed up in disgust.

“Yuck!”

Tony laughed. “See, I said you wouldn’t like it”

Clint shifted closer to Loki. “I should’ve placed a bet on it, really”

“I’m sorry?”

“On my idea. Y’know, the whole forcing-him-to-look-after-the-kid-for-a-night-alone idea. It worked, didn’t it?”

Loki laughed slightly. “Well, perhaps”

“He’s back to being a good dad, isn’t he? I mean, look at the two of them!”

Loki looked at them. Peter was back on Tony’s lap, and Tony was playing round and round the garden with him, making him squeal when he tickled him. 

“He was rocky at first, but on the whole he’s been great this week” Loki admitted. “It’s such a relief”

“From what Tony’s been saying, you’ve been great too”

“He’s been talking about me?”

“Uh, yeah! He’s always talking about you” Clint said. “Singing your praises isn’t anything new. Just the toddler thing”

“I see...”

“The kid’s happy. You’ve worked things out, haven’t you?”

“Mostly. I’m trying not to look at it like it’s forever, while also making sure to look after him like it is. Does that make sense?”

“Kinda? I know it’s super weird. I’ve read some of those blogs the parents of some of Kindsprengen’s other victims have written. It’s weird how their memories are affected”

“If I’m honest, I’m glad their memories were affected” Loki said. “Imagine if teenage Peter’s mind was still there. Imagine him being trapped in a toddlers body, but still being him. Imagine how that would feel. I think it’s a mercy that they can’t remember being big. It’s less distressing this way”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but now that I have, I get what you mean. He’d still need help with things, and I can imagine him getting angry if he still had his teenage brain. I bet it’d be a whole lot harder” Clint said. “But that begs the question: when he’s turned back into a teenager, will he keep these toddler memories?”

The whole table caught Clint’s question. Peter didn’t pay attention, but the others did.

“I hadn’t thought about that” Tony said.

“I don’t think any of us have” Nat said. “If the first gun blocked his teenage memories, will the second one block his toddler memories?”

“I’m gonna stop everyone there” Steve said. “The only way to get an answer to that is to wait for the reversal gun. But I have got another question. It’s mainly for you two”

He looked at Loki and Tony. They glanced at each other, and then back at Steve.

“What?”

“When he’s been turned back into a teenager, do you want him to remember all of this?”

There was a long silence. Loki and Tony looked at each other.

“We don’t know” Loki said.

“What do you lot think?” Tony asked.

“You know, I don’t think we know either” Steve said. 

“If it were me-”

Clint was cut off by the waitress returning. If they were honest, the distraction was a welcome one. Thinking about the effects of Kindsprengen’s gun too much made them all feel weird, and in truth, quite scared.

-

The power of a good meal was always a surprise to Loki. It was so much easier to feel better with the help of hot food. It also helped that he generally got along with Steve, and was starting to get along with Clint. It made it a lot more comfortable. Tony was also happy helping Peter, who was struggling along with his kids ramen, so Loki was able to relax more than he expected to. 

“Do you wanna try any of the little sides, Bambino?” Tony asked. “There’s a few to choose from”

“Oh” Peter looked up at him. “I don’t know”

“He’ll like these” Nat said, passing the edamame over to them. “Try one of those, kid”

Peter took one of the pods and bit into it. Tony spluttered, trying not to laugh at him and the look on his face.

“You don’t eat the pods, kiddo!” he said. He took a pod from the bowl, showing him. “Here, see, you just squeeze them, and eat the beans inside” 

“Oh” Peter tried again, and found that he quite liked the beans. It was fun squeezing them out of the pod. 

“What else might he like?” Steve said. 

“Uhh... Somehow I doubt he’ll go for squid”

“I wanna try some of uncle Clint’s!” Peter said.

“Sure, kiddo” Clint said, pushing his side over to Peter.

“Hold on, isn’t that cauliflower doused in spicy sauce?” Loki said. 

“It can’t be that spicy, surely” Tony said.

Loki stabbed his fork into a bit of the cauliflower and took a bite. He coughed a little. 

“Wow, that’s worse than I expected” he said. “There’s no way you can give that to him”

Tony took Loki’s fork, putting the rest in his mouth. He coughed properly.

“Oh wow, I see. That’s pretty good though” he went for another forkful, but Loki stopped him.

“It made you cough!”

“Yeah but it tasted good”

“Stop! Give it back to Barton”

“Nice bit of alliteration there” Tony said, reluctantly pushing the bowl back to Clint and handing Loki back his fork. 

Peter slammed his little hand down on the table. “Not fair!”

“Stop moaning and eat your noodles, you cheeky monkey” Tony said. “Or no pudding”

Peter pouted and picked up his fork. There was no way he was giving up the chance of pudding. 

-

Everyone but Tony was defeated by their main courses.

“That was more filling than I expected” Nat said. 

“Yeah, it’s a lot” Tony said. “It’s good though, right?”

“Definitely”

“Pudding!” Peter said. “I want pudding!”

“Oh definitely” Nat said. “It has to be done”

“I’m surprised he’s still got an appetite” Steve said. “You’ve eaten a lot, kid”

“Hey, we all have a separate dessert stomach” Clint said. “I’m definitely having pudding”

Tony shrugged. “Fine by me. Loki?”

“I’ll have to see the menu first”

They asked for the dessert menus when the waitress cleared. It was ok for Peter, because he could just have the vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce from the kids menu, but everyone else went into indecisive mode. 

“You know, I don’t know if I’d manage a pudding. I might just have an americano” Steve said.

“CAPTAIN AMERICANO!” Peter shouted. 

Loki and Nat spluttered, and Clint and Tony both laughed. Even Steve smiled, but he told Peter to keep his voice down.

“Captain Americano, oh my god” Tony wiped the tear from his eye. “My son is a genius”

“I’m never letting that one go” Nat said.

“You need it on a coffee mug” Loki said.

Peter grinned and giggled, pleased with himself. Tony ruffled his hair.

“You’re a funny one, kiddo”

“It’s starting to get late” Clint said. “We should probably choose so he can go to bed”

“Since when did you become sensible?” Nat said.

“I’m just saying-”

“You’re probably right” Loki said, looking back at the menu. “Right, I’m having that matcha cheesecake, so if someone would kindly take this menu from me so I don’t have a chance to change my mind, that would be greatly appreciated”

-

They all went back to the Stark’s and had a quick hot drink, arriving back much later than planned. Clint and Nat were dropping Steve off on their way back to their digs, so they all bid farewell at the same time. The house felt quiet without them, but in a nice way. It felt calm, and happy.

“We were supposed to give the kid a bath tonight” Tony said.

Loki looked over at Peter, who was curled up on the armchair with his rocket, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen” he said gently, going over to the armchair and lifting the boy into his arms. “Shhhh, shh. It’s ok; it’s just daddy. It’s bedtime, darling”

“...’m not hungry”

“Well, after that meal, I’m not surprised. Ok darling, let’s get you to bed”

“Not hungry”

“I think he means tired” Tony said, standing up. “He’s had a long day; he’s all mixed up. I’ll tidy up all his toys while you’re settling him down, ok?”

“Ok. Thank you” Loki said. “Are you going to say goodnight to daddy, chick?”

Peter whined, hugging his rocket tight. Tony kissed him on the nose.

“Goodnight, little boy. See you in the morning”

-

Loki could see how tired Peter was, so he didn’t make him brush his teeth or wash his face. He tried to get some pyjamas sorted, but Peter whined and clung to him whenever he tried to put him down.

Loki sighed. “Do you need a wee before you go to bed?”

“Yes...”

“Ok, you’ll need to let go of me, then”

Peter did so reluctantly. While he was busy, Loki was free to source some clean pyjamas and sort Peter’s bed. He checked it thoroughly in case another push pin was lurking, but found it clear. 

He got Peter into his pyjamas and tucked him into bed with his rocket. Peter fell asleep almost immediately. Loki turned the night light on, and kissed the boy on the forehead.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. See you in the morning”

-

Despite his late night, Peter woke up early. He grabbed his rocket, jumped out of bed, and padded off to Loki’s room. Loki was still fast asleep, with Tony asleep beside him.

“DADDIES!” Peter shouted, running over to the bed. “Daddies!!”

Loki and Tony jumped awake.

“Bloody hell, kid, do you have to shout so loud?!” Tony grumbled, sitting up slowly. “What do you want?”

“It’s morning! Time to get up!”

Loki checked his watch. “Peter, it’s six in the morning”

“Ok” Peter said. “Time to get up!”

“No, not time to get up” Tony said, scooping the boy onto the bed and plonking him down between himself and Loki. “It’s too early to get up. Go back to sleep”

“But it’s morning!”

Tony lay back down, pushing Peter onto his back. “Go to sleep”

“I don’t want to! It’s time to get up!”

Loki sighed. He grabbed Peter and put him back on the floor. Peter blinked at him.

“Time to get up!”

“Go back to your room, Peter. Daddy and I are still sleeping” Loki said. 

“No you’re not; you’re awake!”

“Go”

“No!”

Loki sighed heavily, hauling himself out of bed and picking the boy up. He took him back to his room, lay him down on the bed, and tucked him in tight. 

“Go back to sleep”

“But it’s morning!”

“I don’t care. Stay in here until we come and get you. Grown-ups need to sleep. Don’t you dare move from that bed, do you understand me?”

“I wanna get up!” Peter struggled out from under the covers and stood up. “I wanna get up!” 

Loki looked at him for a moment, and then picked him up again. He took him to the living room and sat him on the sofa.

“Now, if you’re a very good boy, and you behave impeccably, you can sit here and watch telly until daddy and I get up. Ok?”

“Ok!”

Loki turned the telly on, clicked onto a kids channel, and put the remote on the back of the sofa. 

“Be good”

-

Tony pulled Loki close when he crawled back into bed. 

“Is he asleep?”

“No; he’s watching telly”

“Are you sure we can trust him?”

“No” Loki said. “But if it gives us the chance at a lie-in, that’s good enough for me”

*