ozzieinspacetime · 2 years ago
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Hey!! Hey. None of the (canonically) dead Deca had bodies to mourn over. Hey. Think about that. Their bodies either got obliterated or permenantly possessed or stuck in a big old paradox. They have no graves and in Millennia and Rallons case nobody remembers they exist and in Vansells case he got fully fucking disintegrated and in Draxes case he's literally always dying because he's trapped himself in a forever cycle. Hey. Hey!!!!!
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helaintoloki · 3 months ago
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The Unbearable Truth
pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader
warnings: angst with no happy ending, spoilers
notes: so i actually hated this storyline in the show but i also recognize angst potential when i see it so here’s this
summary: after getting lost in the subway system, Five comes to a grave realization
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Five Hargreeves doesn’t love you anymore, and you’re completely oblivious to the fact.
You’re in the kitchen of Lila’s home baking holiday treats with your niece while awaiting the arrival of the rest of your family to begin the festivities. You smell of cinnamon and pinecones, and for the first time in years you actually feel content and happy with where your life is now. Sure, there’s technically a looming apocalypse hanging over you right now, but it’s nothing you haven’t handled before. You’re actually part of a family now with a man who adores you, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.
“Alright, Grace, would you like to do the honors of putting the gumdrop buttons on the gingerbread men while I check on the sugar cookies?”
“Yes, aunt y/n!” The girl exclaims cheerfully before immediately diving into the candy bowl. You laugh at her eagerness and turn towards the oven only to be met with the sight of Five in the kitchen doorway. He looks disheveled and unnerved, but you’re too engrossed in your own joy filled bubble to pick up on it right away and instead mistake him for being tired and overwhelmed with the situation surrounding Ben and Jennifer.
“Hey, you made it!” You say with a smile as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning your attention to the sugar cookies. Five can only stand there stiffly as he clings onto the ghost of your lips against his skin. He had hoped that by seeing you again, by being in your presence and showered in your love for him, the feelings he once held for you would return.
But as he stands there in the middle of the kitchen watching you run about, he realizes that he feels absolutely nothing.
Initially, he had wanted nothing more than to return home to you and his siblings. Five had fought tooth and nail trying to figure out a way to get out of that damned subway system so he could have you in his arms again and tell you how much he missed you even if for you he had only been gone a couple hours. But a man could only take eating so many subway rats and being shot at so many times. He had grown tired, weary, and depressed. For a moment it seemed they’d be stuck there forever, and so he decided that maybe it was time to make the most of it.
What he didn’t expect was to fall in love with his brother’s wife.
A woman he had once hated with his entire being now was his sole companion, and whether it was due to some sick twist of fate or a moment of weakness, he had begun to look at her the way he once looked at you. With complete adoration and care as well as a fierce need to protect her and keep her safe. He knew the chances of ever seeing you again were highly unlikely, and the next logical step would be to move on. So he did.
But now here he is, back in his original timeline left to deal with the aftermath of his decisions.
In what was seven years for Five and three hours for you, the boy has fallen out of love with you. Your smile still may be as beautiful as ever and your scent of red berry plum and jasmine may be intoxicating to any other man, but he feels absolutely nothing when he looks at you. The spark is gone, and unbeknownst to you your relationship is about to fall apart.
“Where did you run off to?” You ask him after setting the freshly baked sugar cookies onto the cooling rack nearby.
“I had an… errand to run,” he utters carefully, growing stiff when you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head upon his shoulder. Calculatingly, Five hesitantly rests a hand on your back while the other comes to comb his fingers through your hair. It’s a familiar motion that he is easily able to replicate in order to portray himself as the same doting partner you know and love. Lila had sworn him to secrecy, but he wasn’t sure just how to break it off with you without telling the truth. So for now he would go through the motions and hope to god you didn’t pick up on the fact that something was completely wrong.
“I’m happy you’re here,” you profess earnestly, peering up at him with fluttering lashes and a devoted smile. “I love you, Five.”
His chest tightens in agony at your words, his hold on you tightening in an attempt to ground himself as he harshly swallows down his discomfort. He meets your adoring gaze and smiles, carefully tilting your chin upwards to meet his lips in a tender kiss. It’s believable enough to keep you feeling secure and oblivious to his detachment, and he hopes that maybe if he keeps this up he can forget all about Lila and go back to normal.
Even if it means he’s just playing a part.
Pulling away, he meets your loving stare and offers you a small smile. Hesitating, as if he has to force the words out of him, Five murmurs out a quiet, “I love you, too.”
And you believe him.
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miley1442111 · 7 months ago
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fix it-a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!
summary: aaron says some horrible things, can he fix it?
pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader
warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, jack is so sweet, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, no happy ending :(
part 2- fix it together
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It was all coming down to this. It was Jack’s birthday and as his step-mom, you had been party planning all week. He was having a dinosaur themed birthday with a bounce house and watching a movie in the backyard, like a little drive in movie. You were excited for him. Aaron hadn’t really been around much that week, he was busy dealing with some legal battle the FBI was up against, meaning the rest of the team, including yourself, had the week off. It was Friday night, Jack’s actual birthday and he was asleep in bed as you waited for Aaron to get home. You were reading a book Spencer had recommended you as you nursed a cup of tea, getting sleepier by the second. 
The front door opened and there Aaron stood, briefcase in hand, handsome as ever. You smiled and got up from your spot on the couch, ready to greet him. He smiled softly as you hugged him, running a hand through his hair. “How did it go?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.
“Oh it was fine, nothing too jarring. How was the week?” He asked, walking further into the house. 
“Fine. Nothing to report. Jack’s asleep but-”
“Did you do something for his birthday?” He asked, cutting you off. 
“Yeah, of course. I picked him up from school early and we went for lunch and to a film. He really enjoyed himself,” you smiled and he sighed. “Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, fine,” Passive aggressive. Aaron was being passive aggressive.
“Aaron,” You said, worry coating your words. “Is everything ok?”
“Yes! Everything is just fine,” He sighed again, sitting on the couch. “Just one thing though- you didn’t think to offer him to see his mom?” He asked, malice behind every word. The accusation cut you deeply. Of course you’d asked, but he’d said no. He said ‘I don’t want to go without dad’ because of course he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to go to his moms grave without his dad, and not on his birthday either. You stood there, stunned at his words. He continued. “Y’know, you promised me this wouldn’t be an issue, so tell me now, is this an issue Y/N? I need to know because we can still get an annulment.” 
You gasped at his words. “Aaron stop-”
“No, you stop. You are not his mother. She is. She still is, even if she’s gone. You’ll never be his mother. You’re doing a good job of parenting but nothing compares to Haley. Thank god you’re not his actual mother.”
That was venomous. He was going straight for every insecurity you had around your relationship with Jack and throwing it in your face. He was hurting you. 
The silence was heavy. Aaron finally looked at your face and saw the disgust written all over it. The worst part was the fact that he knew it wasn't disgust at his actions, it was disgust directed at yourself and your parenting. You loved and adored Jack, he knew that. He knew, though he’d never admit it, that Jack liked you more than him, or maybe it was just his insecurity speaking, he wasn’t sure. He knew you gave everything of yourself to the both of them. And he knew he’d just done irreversible damage. 
“I offered,” you muttered, your eyes trained on the floor as you wrapped your arms around your chest, pleading with yourself to not cry. You felt silly, standing there, in his hoodie, his home, and seeing his child as your own. “He said he wanted to wait for you. I said we’d go on Sunday.” 
Aaron’s stomach dropped at the tone of your voice and the words being spoken. He was making you cry. He was hurting you. And all you’d ever been to him was perfectly kind. You’d always been so supportive, so loving, and so caring. As he came in he saw a love note on the fridge, he’d seen one of his favourite chocolate bars on the counter with a note beside it, a little wrapped gift beside it too. There were multiple reminders on the fridge for yourself, ones telling you to pick up things for the party, pick up Jack’s big birthday gift (a new bike), and call Jessica. You cared so much about the both of them, and he’d just said some of the worst things he could’ve, just because he was stressed.
Imagine how stressed you were, planning an entire party on your own while simultaneously working through hours and hours of paperwork (courtesy of your job, you were still working from home even if you weren't technically working), and parenting all week, all alone. 
“There’s dinner in the fridge, I-I’m going to go to bed,” you mumbled, walking about and leaving him alone with his thoughts. He heard your footsteps retract, walking up the stairs and in the opposite direction of your shared bedroom. Shit. You were sleeping in the guest room. 
He got up, irritation and shame barely allowing him to get to the kitchen to eat the meal you’d made him. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he have just listened to you? 
He sat alone eating, his eyes drifting to the gift on the counter the entire time. I don’t deserve it. He thought, but caved once he finished his food and cleaned up. He pulled the small bow off and unwrapped the colourful paper to reveal a positive pregnancy test. His heart broke again. Inside beside it was a note, in your beautiful handwriting. 
To my dearest Aaron, 
I wanted to tell you the second I found out but I also didn’t want you to come home too early when you were still needed in Washington. We’re pregnant! I’m so excited and nervous and happy and scared all at the same time. I didn’t want to upstage Jack’s birthday but I obviously needed to tell you :) 
I love you so much and I can’t wait for this next chapter! No more guest bedroom I guess :) 
P.s I’m almost sure Jack knows, I’ve been having horrible morning sickness :( but at least this fulfils his christmas wish last year, remember ? 
Anyways, I love you so much and I’m so excited. 
Your love, Y/N
Xxxx 
He felt sick to his stomach. You were pregnant. He’d just been evilly cruel to you and you were pregnant. He’d said some of the most vile things on planet earth to you, he essentially called you a bad mother. And you were pregnant. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he saw the splotches on the paper, ruining one of the cute doodles you’d done. He immediately put it down, not wanting to damage it further. 
He took a deep breath, then went into his study and allowed himself to cry. He’d been mean. He’d hurt you in the one way he promised he wouldn’t, all because he was overwhelmed. All because he was stressed. 
“Dad?” He heard Jack’s voice and straightened. He wiped his face. “Why are you upset?” Jack walked into his office, pyjamas and a teddy in hand. 
“I did something mean to mom,” he admitted. “And I hurt her by accident,” he wasn’t sure if it was by accident. He was sure some deep part of him just wanted to self-sabotage himself. “And I feel bad about it.”
“It’ll be ok. Mom’s been sick this week, maybe you have the same tummy ache and it’s making you mad?” He suggested and Aaron let out a pathetic chuckle. 
“Maybe bud, maybe,” he agreed. “How about we get you back to bed, huh?” 
“Can I say goodnight to mom again?” He asked and Aaron’s heart broke again. He lifted him up and nodded, walking them down the hall. “You go into her and I’ll get your bed ready, yeah?” 
“OK dad!” Jack exclaimed as he was let down to the ground, and went running off to your shared bedroom. Aaron shook his head. 
“She’s in the other bedroom,” he pushed down another wave of tears at Jack’s confused face. 
“Why?” He asked, confused. 
“I was really mean,” Aaron sniffled. “Say goodnight from me too?”
“Ok dad,” Jack said, walking into the guest room. 
Aaron heard your voice, wishing Jack good dreams. You’d been crying. 
He was the worst person in the world. 
Jack came into his bedroom a few minutes later. “Mom’s still sick, she said goodnight and to tell you that she loves you.”
Aaron almost started crying again. You were so caring. You always put him above yourself. “Thanks buddy.” 
Aaron tucked him in and closed his door over, wishing him a good night. The tears came shortly after. He tried to sleep in your shared bed, but it wasn’t right. You weren’t there. 
Sleep evaded him that night. 
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The next morning, the morning sickness hit you like a truck. You had your head in the toilet for an hour, at least. You didn’t come out of the guest room until about 9am. You could hear the usual sounds of Jack and Aaron playing outside, probably soccer. You walked downstairs and got yourself a glass of water, the only thing you could actually stomach at the minute. You looked out the window that led to your garden and smiled when you saw your boys playing, then the nagging voice that you thought you’d gotten rid of all but screamed in your ear You’re such a terrible parent. Aaron’s just been trying to conserve your feelings this entire time. Jack probably hates you. You shouldn’t be having another child. 
You looked away. Focus on the party. You told yourself. Get through today.
You had a long list of things that needed doing before the party at 3. You had to pick up balloons, pick up the cake, pick up Jessica and her kids, pick up Sean from the airport (as a surprise for Aaron and Jack), and set everything up. You left a small note on the table explaining where you were, and left. You ran all your errands, leaving picking up Jessica, the kids, and Sean till last. When you walked back in, the house was set up and Jack was immediately excitedly by Jessica, his cousins, and Sean which gave you a moment to slip away from Aaron.
Soon enough, the party started and you were bombarded with around forty children and a party to have. You felt Aaron's eyes on you constantly, checking in on you or just watching you. Once the outdoor film started, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and Spencer came over to ask what was wrong with you and Aaron, saying it was strange to not see you all over each other. You told them about the fight (not the pregnancy) and they were shocked at his behaviour. How could he be so mean? How could he treat you like that?
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Aaron had been trying to talk to you for hours. Whenever he tried, a kid or one of the team would stop him with a dumb question, or needing help. You had Emily, Penelope, Jj, and Spencer crowding you the entire night, sending him the dirtiest of looks. That’s how he ended up at the end of the garden with David and Derek, who were both giving him a lecture about how what he’d done was wrong. 
“You can't say anyone is a bad parent!” Derek stressed. “That’s a very clear no-go!”
“I’m aware,” Aaron said, his lips tight in a frown. “I know what I did was wrong.”
“Then why aren’t you apologising?!” Derek exclaimed, loud enough that a few kids turned around to shush him. 
“Because,” Aaron sighed. “Those four haven’t left her side in hours.” 
As the movie came to a close and the children left, you were left with just the team and family. 
You all sat down to dinner, chinese takeout- Jack’s favourite. There was laughter and true joy, especially at David’s insistence that he could make the meal much better than Jack's favourite take-out, considering he was a ‘chef’. 
You all sat down to watch Jack open his gifts, individually thanking each person who gave him something. He was especially taken by the gift Spencer got him, a book on dinosaurs, and he adored the bike. You’d gotten one that you'd made look similar to Sean’s motorbike, Jack was always obsessed with Sean's motorbike. You’d even drawn on specific details that made it even more unique. Everyone eventually trailed out and it was just you, Jack, Sean, and Aaron. Jack asked Sean to read his bedtime story. That meant you and Aaron were left to clean up together. You got up to start picking up plates but Aaron stopped you. 
“Can I?” He offered and you nodded, sitting on the couch. You hadn’t eaten at dinner, all food just meant more vomiting in the morning and you were not up for that. “Can we talk?” He asked. 
“About what?” You sighed, looking over at him. “I think we’ve both said enough.”
“I’m so sorry about last night,” he sighed, coming over to you and sitting beside you. “I was awful. I was disgustingly mean just because I was overwhelmed. You’re an amazing mother to Jack, while you’re not his biological mother, you love him as such and he loves you. You’re a great parent. I was just being reactive and mean. I was so cruel and I'm sorry. I don’t want an annulment. I want to be with you forever. I know that it isn’t a problem. I know how much you love Jack and me,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I know how little I deserve it.”
You took his hand. “What you said… it was probably my worst nightmare,” you chuckled flatly. “And what you said was pretty damaging, Aaron. I just… it completely restarted the voice in my head that says I’m a terrible parent. It made me scared to think about what’s going to happen when we have our baby. I was already terrified about being pregnant, and this was just…” you trailed off as Aaron’s heart broke. Your voice was raw with emotion. You were so hurt. 
“I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are the best mother our children could ever have,” he promised and you smiled, but it lacked the regular spark your smiles usually contained. 
“The best mother Jack could have is Haley. We both know that.”
Fuck. Now you were comparing yourself to Haley again. Aaron had quite literally set you back about 4 years in your confidence as Jack’s mother. “Honey-”
“I know it sounds bad, but we both know it’s true. I’m good, but as you said, I’m nothing compared to Haley. Which is fine Aaron. I understand my place.”
His heart broke for what felt like the millionth time. He’d hurt you so badly. “Honey please, I was stressed and overwhelmed and I took it out on you. I meant nothing I said. You’re the best mother to Jack and our unborn child. You are the love of my life-”
“I’m the second love of your life,” you smiled sadly at him. “I’m going to bed, goodnight Aaron.” 
You walked up the stairs with a heavy heart. No matter what he said, you’ll always remember the look on his face when he told you that you weren’t enough, that you weren't Haley.
You fell asleep on your side of the bed, since you couldn’t exactly sleep in the guest room when Sean was in there. 
Aaron leaned against the counter as he washed dishes, thinking about how he could fix this. 
Could he even fix this?
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criminal minds masterlist
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loveindefinitely · 10 months ago
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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader
03 — MY COMPASS, MY TRANSPORT
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence
series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.
<- previous part | next part ->
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“I have nothing else to live for.”
It’s a truth. A deep, earnest one – and it’s the only option you have.
Without Graves, without your Shadows, you have nothing. No income, no family, no support. You're left with the clothes on your body and the shoes in which you stand, with no hope of finding your footing.
In the darkness, the only light shines from the headlights of the truck, and the red of the radio. It’s silenced, of course, but it serves as a beacon of something between you all.
“I don’t – I have no other choice,” you say, voice trembling. You would not break in front of them, but you could feel yourself cracking; porcelain underneath a harsh grip. Turning yourself so you’re completely facing the two, your expression turns desperate. “I want to help you both, and I want to save Phi– Graves.”
You correct yourself at the final moment, wary of your slip up.
“Save ‘im? From what? Feckin’ charges for war crimes? Getting his ass handed to ‘im?” Soap chokes out, incredulous, eyes wide where they meet yours. He winces when he moves forward too quick, straining his arm.
“He’s…” You look down at your hands, merely watching for a moment as they close into a fist and open again. Blood crusts underneath your fingernails. “He’s all I have. I’m sure he just needs a wake up call, someone to snap him out of it.”
“He tried to kill us,” Ghost speaks up, matter-of-fact, but quiet. As if at any moment, his words will wake up the entire city. If there were any civilians left in it, you supposed. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.
“...And I had to kill some of my men.”
It’s a confession of sin. Like poison on your tongue, yet at the same time, an anecdote to an evil in your veins. You’d killed your men. You’d… done that.
You still haven’t quite allowed yourself to realise it, not yet.
But if it’s enough to keep you alive right now, so be it. You hadn’t gotten this far just to give up over something as inconsequential as pride.
“Ye will tell us everything you know about ‘im. And’ll help us until we figure out what to do. We’re our own bosses now, Sweetheart,” Soap commands, that fucking nickname of his seeming to stick. You don’t dispute it – not right now, not when this is quite literally life or death.
“I promise,” you say, resolute and stern. There was no time for self-pity or wallowing, only time for action and conviction – something you had in spades. “I’m yours for as long as you need me.”
You hadn’t known how true those words would be – not then, and not for a good while. But they were a prophecy, if such a thing could at all be possible for a woman like you.
Soap and Ghost share a look; a brief, yet important one, before Ghost gives the Scot a short nod. Soap turns once more to you, his face betraying the answer of their silent agreement.
“...So?” You suggest, impatient considering the consequences of the next few moments. 
Bringing a hand up to stroke at his stubbled chin, Soap makes an act of pretending to ponder – and it succeeds in stoking the flames at your core, fury burning through you like a liquor-soaked rope.
“I dunno, lass,” he says on a sigh, his ocean eyes betraying a mischief in their depths. “Yer kinda mean to me.”
You might choke him.
Actually, check that, you will choke him. He’s impossible – an arsehole to the nth degree – somehow worse than Ghost in his… foolishness? Was that the right word? Or just straight frustrating-ness?
Seeming to sense your thinning patience, Soap’s hand falls from his jaw with a mirthful smirk, proud of himself. 
“If ye say pretty please, ye can join our lil’ duo.” He finishes the statement off with a wink, and you don’t realise that your hands have curled into fists until the sharp pain of nails digging into your palms force you to resort back to your senses.
You let out a slow, loud breath. 
Neither of them move a muscle, except for the twitch of Soap’s dimple. You hate that you recognise such a small movement, but you easily blame it on the fact that it’s a drilled-in mentality.
“...Please,” you acquiesce, however quiet. 
Ghost’s eyebrow raises. How you’re aware of that, considering his mask, is a props to him. 
“That’s not what he asked for.” His voice is a low, husky thing, and the title of guard dog suddenly doesn’t sound so incorrect.
With your teeth gritted and cheeks straining, you mutter out, “Pretty please.”
Soap’s responding smile is nothing short of beaming, and you almost immediately wish that you could take those words back. Was death really so bad? Would it even be a mercy, compared to deciding to share a threadbare camaraderie with these weirdos?
Too bad time control isn’t exactly a well-researched military weapon.
“Let’s go then,” Ghost slaps his gloved hand against the steering wheel, before looking one last time towards you with purpose, “Sweetheart.”
Soap laughs.
You get out and slam the door in his face.
“Och! You feckin’ bastard, lass,” you hear him screech, before the door opens once more and Soap hops out, fuming.
Turning away, you fall behind Ghost, and quickly take a look around at the vast, empty area that is barren suburbia. Not before responding, however.
“Next time you get shot, I’m not taking care of your ass,” you threaten. “And I’m giving the rest of my sweets to Mr. Melodramatic.”
Soap’s returning mock gasp is, in all fairness, pretty comedic. “You have more sweets? Gimme those and ye lovely bedside manners ‘nd I’ll get a cavity!”
Your returning glare could cut steel. “Keep that up, and you’ll end up with bigger issues than a cavity.”
“I think ye are already the bigger issue,” Soap snaps back, but it’s not inherently malicious. It’s… borderline playful, and that sudden thought has you internally slapping yourself.
“Both of ya – quiet,” Ghost warns.
You both shut up immediately.
With wary steps, the three of you go to step up towards the front door, when Ghost swings out a hand, stopping the lot of you in your tracks. The night doesn’t allow for any of you to see well, but he must’ve picked up something that you hadn’t.
The thought is an immediately terrifying one.
“Pressure plates,” Soap murmurs under his breath, eyeing the square linoleum tile. “Nice catch, Lt.”
Ghost doesn’t respond, instead motioning for you to follow him towards a glassless window. Gravel crunches underneath your light footfalls, easily heard in the deathly quiet, as you move to swing your leg over the access point and drop to the floor inside.
Landing with a soft thud, you go to unfurl from your crouching position, before a loud warning shout from Ghost has you freezing.
Flinching where you stand, your eyes dart to where Ghost has flung one of his daggers, the sharp metal splintering a wooden beam further into the dark room. Realising that Soap sits at your flank, you shift your gaze to spot a red light focused in on his forehead – between his eyes.
“¿Quien esta ahi?” An unfamiliar, accented voice calls out from behind the beam. You could slap yourself for being so careless, in not realising that someone else was in here before Ghost had saved your arses. 
“Rodolfo!” Soap calls out, relief flooding his tone as he rights his position, shoulders back.
A man peeks out from behind the wood, eyes wide and slightly panicked, before they soften at the sight of the two men behind you. “Soap! Ghost! You’re alive!”
Stepping out from around the beam, he reaches for Ghost’s dagger, pulling it away from where it had dug into the oak with undeniable ease. His appearance is striking, with a set jaw and gentle features – he’s quite pretty, but not at all in a way that you find yourself attracted to the man.
“Affirmative,” Ghost responds, accepting the knife back when the man – Rodolfo – hands it to him hilt-first.
“Good to see you, amigos,” Rodolfo smiles, before his appraisal sets on you, confusion sparking in his deep brown eyes. He looks to the two men at your side for an explanation, hesitant in the way he does so.
“This is…” Soap trails off, before coming to a realisation. “Feckin’ hell. I never even asked for yer name, Sweetheart.”
Rodolfo blinks. Once, twice, before his eyebrows furrow and his mouth settles into an uncomfortable grimace.
You shoot a glare Soap’s way, before gifting Rodolfo a polite, yet stilted, smile. Extending your hand, you give him your name, and then your official title.
“Colonel? Graves’ colonel?” Rodolfo repeats back, utterly taken aback by such an introduction. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, quickly hissing to Soap in unamused Spanish, “¿Has perdido la cabeza?”
“I saved his life,” you interrupt, before any verbal sparring begins. “And I’m on your team. I don’t agree with what Graves is doing – and I’m sorry for what he’s already done. But I want to help you. I swear.”
Rodolfo regards you for a moment, his internal walls still heavily locked in place. But he seems… softer, now, in a way. More understanding, maybe, less hesitant as he slowly appraises you, inspecting you under his critical analysis.
The silence stretches, before the soldier raises his hands placatingly, the left side of his mouth twitching into a smooth smirk. “No accusations from me, Corazón,” he reassures, the pet name sliding from his full lips like butter over warm toast.
“Aye, none of tha’,” Soap warns, and Rodolfo’s amusement deepens. Whatever the Scot is about to say next is abruptly stopped by Ghost’s booming demand from behind you both.
“Anyone outside of these walls is now considered a hostile – we’re a team now. This happened under my watch, and I’d bloody well do good to fix it.” His posture is stiff, hand unconsciously flexing around the blade strapped to his belt as he delivers the order. It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one shot.
You figure he’s stopped speaking, when suddenly his heavy gaze is on you, any ounce of solidarity snuffed out like a match’s flame. “You fuck up once, Sweetheart, and I won’t hesitate when I shoot ya dead.”
It’s as good of a compromise as you’re going to get from the hulking Lieutenant, but you weren’t made Colonel for your talents in stepping down.
“You forget that I outrank you,” you challenge, chin raised and eyes flinty. “And that I saved your mutt.”
“We don’t have a feckin’ dog,” Soap starts, but when he sees the way Ghost side eyes him, and how you give him an unimpressed look, his jaw drops. “Ye bastard! Shoulda killed ya –”
Rodolfo’s hand wraps around Soap’s forearm, the grumbling man twisting in his hold, but not putting up anything close to a fight. “She’s just stirring you up, hermano,” Rodolfo placates, his large eyes meeting yours with a hint of respect in them. It has you straightening your spine, and your resolve.
“We sort this out as equals,” you state, folding your arms over your chest and bucking your hip. Ghost doesn’t, for a single second, shift your mutual eye contact. “And you will all tell me what the fuck’s going on – and what we’re doing.”
“Alejandro,” Ghost quips, sharp and to the point. Finally, you think, his near-black eyes drift to Rodolfo. “We need him back.”
“He’s the only other lad we can trust out there,” Soap adds, his pout easing slightly. Rodolfo finally drops his hand, clapping it hard against the petulant man’s shoulder with a firm nod.
“Already got a head start, hermanos,” he gestures for the three of you to follow him further into the room, before his calculating eyes glance back at you, “y hermana.”
It’s an unknown, entirely different feeling that erupts inside of your chest at the inclusion. Rodolfo was clearly the most soft spoken man of the three, but he had an intelligence to him that you couldn’t wait to unpack. And he trusted you. Or so you had gathered, anyway.
However.
First things first.
“...Where’s Alejandro? I thought he was Mexican Special Forces?” It was, admittedly, a unique kind of embarrassing – how out of the loop you felt, considering you were a colonel under Graves’ command. You’d heard the man’s name before, but it was usually just paired with barracks gossip and warnings to steer clear. Some joke about how the only one who could kill Alejandro, was the soldier himself.
Moving along with Rodolfo, you’re surprised when it’s Soap who supplies you the answer.
“Your fuckwit of a Commander’s got ‘im,” he curses, the words grating and harsh. Deserved, of course it was deserved, yet it was still odd hearing such disrespect for the man of whom you’d idolised for so long.
Of whom you’d given everything.
Switching a light on, Rodolfo stops in front of a large table, a map laid out across the top of it. Your eyes go wide at the intricacies – focusing as the man leans over and presses a finger towards a highlighted spot, watching the three of you where you stand on the other side. Dust floats near the source of the lamp, and the scent of grime hits you a moment later, a familiar thing.
“Graves is holding him here,” Rodolfo explains, his previously mischievous expression settling into a firm, military-grade frown.
“His own personal black site prison,” Soap scoffs, subconsciously flexing his fingers around the straps of his vest. His focus is utterly devoted to the map in front of him, but his anxiety shows itself through the tiniest of movements.
Rubbing his spare hand down his face, Rodolfo lets out a long, strewn-out sigh. “My men are locked in there, too.”
“Then let’s get them back,” you supply with a small shrug when all eyes shoot your direction.
“That’s obvious, lass,” Soap says, lacking any hint of his previous vitriol when he looks around the room. “How we get ‘em back is the question.”
“By breaking in,” Ghost answers, the retort as simple as breathing.
If you weren’t so receptive to body movements, to the smallest of expressions, you’d’ve missed it. Even then, you doubted that anyone could miss how Soap’s eyes soften when he looks to his Lieutenant, how his breath softly hitches in his throat.
You want to claw out your eyes with a rusty spoon.
By the look on Rodolfo’s face, he feels much the same – until he catches you staring, and then his face twists into something much more cryptic. Like a man trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces, being forced to jam spares into spots that just won’t fit.
“We need weapons,” you startle out, the words surprising even yourself. You don’t go back on them, don’t even think to. “If we want to stand a fighting chance – we need firepower.”
“Who said you’re with us?” Ghost questions snarkily, but when you go to reply, you find that Rodolfo’s moved to the corner of the room, switching on even more lights, displaying a wrought iron door.
Sliding it open, you feel like a kid on Christmas morning as you take note of the supplies within.
Rodolfo shrugs, but the small, smug grin on his face doesn’t dispel. “It’s well-stocked. This is Ale we’re talking about.”
The affectionate nickname is something you store away for later. ‘Well-stocked’ is certainly an understatement – guns of all types line the walls within the room, all types of bombs and grenades along with it.
“Alright,” Ghost huffs out, the closest to appreciative that a man like him can get.
Soap is much more upfront about his joy. “My man!” He laughs, his dimples etched into his features like the light spattering of freckles over his upper cheeks and nose bridge. “We’re gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armoured.”
Digging into his pocket, Rodolfo pulls out a set of keys, tossing them over to Ghost with relaxed shoulders. Turning, shock must be evident on all of you, because Rodolfo lets out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, hermanos y hermana.”
To the far end of the room, within the adjoined stables, is a fully-armoured forward drive of some sort – sleek and black and fucking perfect.
“Alejandro thought of everything,” Ghost admires, and when you look to him, you swear that you can see a hint of hope shining in his darkened eyes. Your heart skips a beat on its own accord, and you’re absorbed by the all-consuming want to pull it out of your chest with your bare hands, just so it never does such a thing again.
“Yeah, he did,” Soap whistles, before turning back around to face your small band of misfits. With a determined grin, he says as if it’s an afterthought, “Let’s go get ‘im.”
With a stern resolve and an even sterner disposition, you walk alongside your newfound teammates, and get ready for the most difficult mission of your military career.
*
When you’d, stupidly, recklessly, decided to play good guy and helps out the 141 and Los Vaqueros, you hadn’t taken into account how you’d be at the bottom of the totem pole.
While the three men you were working alongside were all considerably close, you were an outsider. At that, an outsider who had, only a few hours ago, decided to swap sides from enemy to ally.
Being paired with Ghost is, arguably, the most gut-wrenching job in your life. By the time that Rodolfo finds Alejandro through the CCTV system, you’re nearly entirely covered in dried blood, and your head thumps with a headache.
Not a headache from war – a headache from the fucking twat with a shitty DIY job for a military get-up.
“You’re seriously the worst,” you grit out, wiping off a bit of Shadow blood that’s been sprayed on your cheek. “I seriously can’t fucking believe that any one of your mates can tolerate you.”
“Who needs ‘mates’ when I have my boys?” Ghost quips back, wiping off his bloody dagger onto his vest, before slotting it back into its rightful position on his belt. His ability to blend into the night, even with the prison lights on, is uncanny – the only tell the white of his stitched-in skull.
You mock a disgusted sound, sticking out your tongue. “You sound like a fuckboy.”
“A what?” And, although it sounds nothing like a choke, you’re sure that it’s an instinctual question.
The sound of a helicopter up ahead has the two of you pausing in your tracks, feud coming to a quick halt. Looking up, you struggle to see the vehicle in the black of night, but you manage to spot the slowly circling heli above the prison.
“Ghost, Sweetheart, what’s yer status?” Soap’s voice trickles in through your comms. Ghost glances at you, before he answers on your behalf, ever the control-freak.
“Comin’ your way.”
Falling into step side-by-side, you focus on the wet gravel underneath your feet, avoiding making any communication with the man to your right.
“Copy. We’re on the move,” Soap replies, before Rodolfo cuts in.
“Heads up on the helo,” he warns. You find that you much prefer him over the other two – in fact, under any other circumstance, you could see the two of you becoming good friends. Maybe, if everything goes well, that could be a possibility – a positive in your world of negatives.
“Don’t think we’re in his line of sight,” you respond, double-checking your route and the helicopter's position in the sky. Rodolfo had warned you all, debriefing in the drive here, that helicopters would likely show up at some point.
Minutes pass, with small comms between the lot of you, when you finally spot the familiar figures belonging to the other half of your precarious team. 
Soap and Rodolfo stand at the entrance, before the two turn at the sound of your and Ghost’s footsteps. They both seem to visibly loosen their stiff shoulders, seeing you both uninjured – and if you do the same, you pray that no one notices.
“The door’s locked,” Soap informs you all, gesturing to the steel entrance5.
With a small hum, Rodolfo reaches for the pack on his vest. “We’ll need to breach it,” he explains, but before he can grab a charger, Ghost raises a hand to stop him.
“No, Rudy –” And that is a nickname that you’ll be using later, “Knock.”
Rodolfo seems apprehensive, but he agrees anyway, giving all three of you separate glances. “On me…”
All of you getting into readying positions, Rodolfo knocks on the door, the sound echoing loud enough to have your blood pounding in your ears.
A moment later, a Shadow – one you don’t recall having met – pushes open the door and moves to step outside. However, Rodolfo and Ghost are quick to neutralise him, softly dropping his body to the floor.
Pushing through the entrance, everyone except for you shoot a Shadow dead – clearing the room in less than twenty seconds. It’s impressive, how smoothly run the operation is, considering the lack of proper authority or guidance.
You’re the first to spot some more Shadows moving your way, down the stairs – calling it out. “More Shadows from the second floor – watch out!”
This time, you find yourself the cause of two men falling to the ground, blood pooling underneath their lifeless bodies. Your team doesn't give you time to second guess, to mourn, before they’re encouraging you to follow them up the stairs.
“Ale’s up here, let’s go!” Rodolfo urges, his voice bordering on a kind of desperation reminiscent of a boy enlisting for the first time.
Like expected, Alejandro’s cell is down the hall, sat to the far right. Two Shadows guard the steel door, but Soap and Rodolfo are quick to light them up, successfully clearing the entire two floors. You’re ashamed of how relieved you feel, being gifted the small mercies of not having to kill your previous subordinates, unless necessary.
You feel, more than see, Ghost’s heavy gaze on you. When you look back up from the gun in your hands, however, he’s turned completely away – and if you were a less accurate person, you’d have thought you were imagining things.
“There’s Alejandro’s cell.” Stopping at the steel door, Rodolfo adjusts his grip on the gun, before giving you an encouraging jerk of his head. “Open it up, me and Soap will cover you.”
Another small mercy, you think, as Ghost reaches into his backpack and pulls out a set of bolt cutters, regarding you stiffly. “When I pop this lock, you push in,” he directs you curtly, and you bite back a retort. You knew the process like the back of your hand – you had no need for an explanation.
The ‘especially from him’ goes unsaid.
With precise, practised movements, Ghost positions the bolt cutters, and pushes open the door.
As soon as you take one step into the cell, a large hand wraps around the back of your neck, slamming your face into the concrete wall, a blinding pain shooting through your retinas. Letting out a small yelp, your chest rattles as your hands wildly raise in an imitation of surrender.
“Alejandro! Let go of ‘er! It’s us!” Soap calls out, and you swallow unhealthy amounts of air. That hit had taken more out of you than you’d expected – and your harsh breaths were making that incredibly apparent.
The grip on the scruff of your neck slackens when Rodolfo shoots off in quickfire Spanish, “Coronel, relájate, cabron, somos nosotros.”
Your cheek aches and your head pounds as the hand removes itself entirely, allowing for you to take in lungfuls of oxygen.
“Soap, Ghost!” Alejandro bursts out, and as you rise to your feet unsteadily, you watch as he thumps both of them on the back of their shoulders, before turning to Rodolfo with an expression that could only be described as longing. “...Rudy.”
“Didn’t think we’d leave ya, did ye?” Soap chuckles, oblivious to the thread of tension between the two men. 
Whatever silent conversation had occured between the two enforcers is quickly cut as Alejandro accepts the shake of Soap’s hand, a feral grin wide on his features. “What took you so long, pendejos?”
“A traitor with an attitude is what,” Ghost inputs, and really, how much self control can a Lieutenant lack? Wiping at your cheek, you let your hand fall once more to your side as you meet Alejandro’s inquisitive gaze head-on.
“I’m Graves’ previous colonel,” you extend your hand, “And I’m your best bet at getting your base back.”
You expect suspicion, uproar, maybe – or at least questioning, similar to that of Rodolfo’s.
Instead, all you’re met with is Alejandro’s manic smile sharpening, and a slap on the back of your own. Ruffling your hair, he uses his free hand to accept the gun Rodolfo’s extending towards him, shooting you a knowing glance.
“Sounds good, hermana. Welcome to how real men fight.”
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midnightsnyx · 4 months ago
Text
girl at home | mat barzal | part 10
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pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol and vomit & fluff and not edited!! word count: 2.6k
a/n: so obviously this is fiction and we don't actually know what Mat or Liana or his parents personalities are actually like but I took some liberty with Liana's personality. see end for more notes cause I don't want to spoil anything :) also sorry this is so late!! i went back to work and then had trouble with this chapter. i hope you all enjoy! likes, reblogs and comments feed my writing soul so let me know what you think <3
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Liana texts you the day after your meet-up with Mat at the park, apologizing for getting angry with you and asking to go out for drinks. You don’t have it in you to still be upset with her for yelling at you because she was always the little sister you never had and just because you and Mat are having problems, doesn’t mean it should affect your relationship with her. Sometimes you wonder if you’re too quick to forgive and forget but you know that this is an exception. 
“It’s just weird, y’know?” Liana mutters, laying her head on the dirty bar table. She’s on her third drink and you’re close to cutting her off. “I’m going to be an aunt again, but I have this odd feeling about Calista. Like she’s not telling the entire truth.” 
You startle when she suddenly bolts upright and looks at you with wide eyes. 
“What if Mat’s not the father? That would make so much sense!” 
“How so?” you ask carefully. So far, you have successfully kept the fact that Calista is not pregnant a secret. It’s a secret you will have to take to your grave because you can’t let Marlee get in trouble when all she was doing was trying to help you. The truth might come out some day, but it’s something you will deal with then. 
“Mat is just being weird about the whole thing, like he’s hiding something,” she says. “Well, besides the fact that he hasn’t told mom or dad… but there’s something else.” She picks up her glass and drinks the last of her martini before signinally the bartender for a refill. 
“I think it’s time we switch you to Shirley Temples,” you say gently, asking the bartender for a couple glasses of water. 
She tries to wave you off when you push the water towards her but you give her the all too familiar look that you used to give her when you were both younger. 
“Fine, but if I’m getting cut off, so–” she stops talking abruptly, suddenly focused on something across the room. You turn and see a familiar face that makes your heart drop into your stomach because there’s no way she’s that stupid and you’re about to say something but Liana hops off her barstool and before you can stop her, she’s marching across the room to where Calista is sitting. She’s surrounded by a few other people, one of them being a guy you can’t quite place but definitely isn’t Mat, but the real kicker is the drink in her hand. 
You’re not in the business of accusing people but the way she’s laughing loudly and swaying a little in her seat makes you think that it’s not a non-alcoholic drink. You stare a little too long because when you snap out of your stupor, it’s to a loud shriek and shouting. Nearly tripping over your own feet, you rush over to find both Calista and Liana being held back by people and shouting at each other. You manage to drag Liana out of the hands of the person holding her back but you can’t help but stare at Calista in shock. You know she’s not pregnant but you didn’t think she was stupid enough to test her luck by getting drunk at a bar and possibly being seen by people who think she is.  
“I knew something was off about you,” Liana shouts at Calista who only now seems to realize that you are also in the room. Her face, which was red, pales considerably and her eyes widen when she looks at you.
“You are pregnant!” Liana shrieks and when you hear people gasping and the whispers start, you know you need to get Liana out of here now. 
With strength you didn’t realize you have, you drag her outside. She shakes you off as soon as you’re out the doors and promptly throws up all over your shoes. You don’t give yourself time to be grossed out, pulling your phone out of your pocket and calling the first person you think of.
“Hello?” Jax mumbles and you’re panicking enough that you can’t feel sorry that you woke him up. 
“I need you to pick us up,” you gasp and suddenly you’re sixteen again, calling him to pick you up from a party that you snuck out to. 
Jax doesn’t hesitate before agreeing and asking where you are. You rattle off the name of the bar and he says he’ll be there in ten minutes even though you know his apartment is at least twenty minutes away. You’ve never been so grateful to have him as a friend. 
“You didn’t call Mat, right?” Liana asks quietly and you look to see her sitting on the curb, looking absolutely miserable. Her eyes are filled with unspilled tears and you can only imagine what’s going on in her head. 
“No,” you tell her, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her. “I called Jax.”
She nods and leans her head on your shoulder. You sit in silence for a few minutes before she speaks and her voice is quiet and shaky. 
“She was never pregnant, was she?”
Maybe it’s the natural motherly instinct in you, but you realize you can’t lie to her when she’s so upset.
“No,” you tell her and then she’s crying. You know that she’s drunk which makes her more emotionally vulnerable but you also know how sensitive she’s always been and it’s not a weakness. She wears her emotions on her sleeve and it’s only ever made her kinder and wiser than she should be for her age. 
“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you when Mat told me but I was so confused and upset that he was keeping it from us.” 
Then she’s crying even harder. “Oh god, what are we going to tell Mat?”
Truthfully, in the chaos of all this, you haven’t had the chance to think about what you’ll do about Mat. You know Liana won’t keep the truth from him and even if she did, word travels fast and he would eventually find out. You’re not certain he can mentally handle this, not with everything that’s going on between the two of you and his fragile relationship with Nora. He was just getting used to the fact that he has a daughter when Calista dropped the baby bomb on him and now to find out that it’s been a lie? You’ve no idea what he will do. 
“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly and sigh in relief when you see Jax’s car come into view. You stand up, helping her back to her feet just as Jax parks and gets out to help you. 
He looks worried but doesn’t say anything about yours or Liana’s appearance. Once you’re both settled in his car, he tells you he’s going to bring you both to his apartment for the night, obviously not feeling comfortable dropping you home when you’re upset and intoxicated. You know he’s right but all you want to do is curl up in your own bed. 
“Alright,” you agree eventually and he nods, starting the drive back to his place. You must nod off because the next thing you know, Jax is gently shaking your arm, waking you up. 
“I can’t carry you both in,” he jokes and you look back to see Liana completely knocked out. She grumbles when you wake her but she’s coherent enough to walk.
Jax’s boyfriend, Eli, already has their guestroom set up so you get Liana in the bed and then situate yourself on the air mattress. Jax leaves with a promise to check on you both throughout the night and if you weren’t so worried about Liana, you would tell him not to worry but you’re not taking any chances with her.
You lay awake for a while, not able to get the image of Calista drunk and with another guy out of your head. You don’t know how to tell Mat about it and Liana probably won’t either but eventually you drift off to sleep.
. . .
The next morning, you wake before Liana. Jax came in and checked on you both a few times before deciding that it was okay to leave you so you’re surprised to find him awake when you make your way out to the kitchen. It’s just past 8 o’clock but he’s cooking breakfast, singing off tune to Taylor Swift.
“Hey,” you say softly, sitting at the breakfast bar. You know he’s going to want an explanation because even though he let you off the hook last night, he’s going to want to know why Liana was crying and you had vomit on your shoes when he picked you up. 
“Morning,” he replies, placing a coffee in front of you and a piece of plain toast. You can feel his eyes watching you eat and once you’re done, he looks at you expectantly. 
“We saw Calista at the bar last night,” you explain. “Drunk and with some random guy.”
“Huh,” he says, so you look at him. His face is neutral, not showing if he’s surprised. 
“What does huh mean?”
“I mean, you did say something was off about her.” 
That was putting it lightly because although you couldn’t tell him the full story in fear that Marlee would lose her job, you did express your concerns about her without telling him that you knew she wasn’t pregnant. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. 
You hear shuffling from the guest room and look to see Liana walking into the kitchen. She plops down next to you and groans.
“I’m never drinking again,” she says and you can’t help but chuckle despite the circumstances. 
“Said every hungover person ever,” you say and a small smile crosses her face before she frowns, clearly remembering last night's events.
“I have to tell Mat,” she says. “It’s not fair to him that she lied.”
You sigh but nod in agreement. 
“I have to pick Nora up from my moms,” you tell her. “Are you okay to tell him yourself?” 
You really don’t want to be there when Mat finds out, not when you’re dealing with your own feelings towards him. 
“Yeah,” she says, eating the toast Jax offers her. 
You both finish your coffee and then Jax drives you to your apartment and you drop Liana home before picking Nora up. 
She’s ecstatic to see you, telling you everything she did with grandma from the moment you dropped her off until now picking her up. 
“And then, Millie hissed at me but Gizmo barked and scared her away,” she takes a deep breath before continuing her ramblings. “Can we get a kitten?” 
“You’re allergic, remember?” You remind her, and then a thought pops into your mind. Where did she see your mother’s neighbor's cat? “Where did you see Millie?” 
“Mrs. Turner invited us over for tea,” she tells you and then offhandedly adds: “she asked about you and Mat.” 
This doesn’t surprise you because Mrs. Edna Turner is quite the gossiper. You have trust in your mother that she didn’t tell Edna anything private but you’re still curious what exactly they talked about and you know that your child can be sneaky when she wants to be. 
“What did Mrs.Turner ask?” you ask, rolling your eyes when she sighs dramatically and puts her tablet away. 
“Well, first she asked if Mat was really my daddy and when Grandma said yes, she said ‘that poor child’,” she says, face scrunching up in confusion. “What does that mean?”
You make a mental note to talk to your mom about bringing Nora to any future tea parties at Mrs. Turner’s. 
“Nothing,” you assure her. “What else did she say?”
“She told grandma that if she were you, she wouldn’t move me to New York.” Her eyes narrow and she frowns. “I thought you said we weren’t moving to New York.”
“We’re not.”
“Then how come Mrs.Turner said that?” she demands.
“‘Cause Mrs. Turner doesn’t know how to mind her own business,” you mumble and then sigh, looking at Nora so she’s listening. “We’re not moving to New York, okay?” 
She nods and then smiles. “Can we go get ice cream?” 
“Yeah, we can go get ice cream,” you tell her even though it’s nearly dinner. 
Every once in awhile, ice cream for dinner is in order.
. . .
It’s past midnight when there’s a quiet knock on your door, and the only reason you’re awake to hear it is because Liana let you know she told Mat the truth about Calista. She told you that he had left the house as soon as she told him that morning and hadn’t returned home all day. You were expecting a text from him but your phone was silent and that worried you even more.
So, when you open the door to find Mat standing in front of you, red rimmed eyes and looking about two seconds away from crying, you don’t hesitate to let him inside. He slips past you and toes his shoes off before going straight for the couch and sitting down on it. You hesitate, but eventually settle down next to him. 
He’s resting his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands and it takes you a minute to realize he’s crying silently. 
“Mat…” 
“I just - fuck, I thought that this was my second chance, you know? It wasn’t ideal but I would get to do all the things I missed with Nora,” he says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I was such an idiot.”
It’s not a dig towards you but you still can’t shake the guilt you always feel when he talks about everything he didn’t get to see. Her first steps, first words, first day of kindergarten. All the things you can never get back. 
“It’s not your fault,” you say gently. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I should’ve,” he mumbles and before you can say anything, you hear soft footsteps coming down the hallway. You look to see Nora, rubbing her eyes sleepily and frowning when she sees Mat. 
When he realizes she’s there, he wipes his eyes hastily but it’s not fast enough because Nora walks over to him and deepens her frown.
“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, reaching out and touching his cheek that’s still damp. 
Mat looks like he’s going to say that he’s fine but seems to change his mind last minute. He smiles sadly and shakes his head.
“Not really, peanut,” he tells her and the frown on her face deepens even more than you thought possible. 
“Mama says hugs make things better when you’re sad,” she says, sounding much wiser than a six-year-old should sound. Then, without asking, she climbs up onto his lap and wraps her tiny arms around his neck and hugs him. You can see the moment Mat breaks, hugging her back gently and it’s like all the tension drains from his body. 
You call it the “Nora Effect”, because her little hugs always seem to make you feel better.
“I’m so sorry, Nora,” you hear Mat whisper and you know he’s going to beat himself up over everything that’s happened with Calista - and Nora deserves his apologies, but your kid is one of a kind and you know that she will forgive him.
With time, if he proves himself, he’ll have a place in her life and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for them. 
authors notes: so calista is goneeeee FINALLY. she wasn't supposed to be here as long as she was but I got too carried away with that storyline and i'm glad it's over lol also, I had mixed thoughts about having mama be the one who told Mat that Calista was lying but I just couldn't get it right so I figured next best thing would be Liana! ps: millie is named after my own cat who i will put a pic of in the comments below
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neonpaperlanterns · 8 months ago
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Hi! I hope you're having a good time of day!
I was curious if you would be open for a more angsty story with the bestest boy DogDay? Like, they have an encounter with CatNap where Angel gets an open wound that they need to stitch up later. And DogDay can't do anything about it with his hands being too big, so all he can do is comfort his Angel and encourage them? Just him being as supportive as he can be and amazed with his Angel's determination?
It's okay if you dont want to write something like this though! Thank you for your time! Your stories are really good with their captivating nature!
[A/n: So I hope you like this anon. I think I went deeply into the angst.]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If only
It all happened so fast. One moment you were next to DogDay and the next you were gone. Flung across the rubble as if you were an unloved toy.
And standing in your place was Catnap with his mouth hung open and red smoke spilling everywhere. After years of exposure DogDay had grown unaffected by the worming hallucinations. He knew what was real and at first he assumed what he was seeing wasn’t. 
It couldn't be. 
No matter what you always got back up. You were their shining light, their hope, their Angel. You always got back up. So the fact that you weren’t moving just had to be fake. The slowly pooling puddle of red he was seeing? Trick of the smoke. It had to be. You were fine. He was sure of it. 
His Angel always got back up. 
Always.
But then why did it feel so real? It couldn’t be. It wasn’t. It was the smoke playing tricks on him. Peeling back the layers of his frazzled mind to poke and prod at something new he could be taunted with.
A wheezing laugh made his head snap up. The cat was looking at him. That horrible smile he saw in his nightmares and every fractured mirror was turned towards him. Malice and a sick sense of satisfaction dripped from that grinning face. 
“Is something wrong?” DogDay felt something hot and acidic pool in the back of his throat. 
“Is it them?” His hands are trembling as Catnap moves his gaze over to you. He can’t move his arms as the former Smiling Critter sways towards you. His gait slow and with purpose as those eyes that only held deranged devotion glanced back at him.
“Oh, must not be.” It was said with a gravely snicker a single dirty purple paw rose into the air. It was done so slowly, as if Catnap wanted him to see every minute movement. Even through the dim light and thick smoke he can see the twitching claws that hover over you. 
And you still haven’t moved. Still lying limp as that monster loomed over you. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest at this clear taunt. 
“Are- AAAHHHHHHHH!” A horrendous screech filled the air. Blips of orange were beacons in the crimson fog. DogDay felt himself lurch forward, arms still shaking, as he watched Catnap rear back. A bright flare sizzled in his throat as he stumbled away. 
“Let's go.” Your body slams into his as you shuffle him along. Your grip on him is tight as you take the majority of his weight. He’s reeling as joy sears through him. It was a trick. You hadn’t actually been crumbled beneath that cat. You were fine. He had just been seeing things. Tears pricked along his eyes. He was just so happy. His Angel was okay and had been the entire time. 
And he didn’t want to let go when you stumbled into a supply closet. He wanted to stay in your arms but as you sagged to the floor he noticed something. Pulling away he thought he was still under the effects of the red smoke. 
He had to be. 
Under the flickering lights he saw how your side was soaked with blood. Gnarled slashes marred your skin. 
“What…” Shakily he reached out. He was so sure you had been alright. So sure that it had all been a hallucination. That it had just been Catnap messing with him because he found a new weakness to exploit. But it hadn’t been. 
DogDay doesn’t know what to do. He is just as useless right now as he was when you had been lying there. 
“We shouldn’t stay here too long. I’m sure Catnap is going to be very upset when he recovers.” You're fumbling around the closet, pushing and moving things around. He wants to help you but he can’t. 
“Hey, are you still with me?” A hand is placed on his shoulder. It startles him and he lists backwards. But you don’t let him fall. Your arms wrap around him, steadying him.
“DogDay are you okay?” You sound so concerned but you shouldn’t. He’s fine, you’re the one that got hurt! He should be asking you these questions. He should be helping you!
“Angel I..” His voice came out hoarse and warbled. He can’t even speak properly! What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he help you? Why couldn’t he be there for you? You asked for nothing and he couldn’t even do that! You did everything, all the time. It was always you and he loved you for that. But God he just wanted to do something for you. If only he was a bit more like you. 
Why couldn’t he be more like you? 
Why did he have to be him?
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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months ago
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can you make HSR male character with a dead reader (I LOVE ANGST, I LIVE FOR ANGST).
for the characters, it's up to you, but if possible, please include Blade and Jing Yuan (if this topic makes you uncomfortable, don't do it)
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Sorry for getting to this after so long and if it was shit.
Jing yuan:
It had been a while since your passing and everyone had seemingly forgotten your name and the fact that you had once lived amongst them.
However Jing Yuan didn’t, he refused to let himself forget the hold you once had over on his heart, mind and soul, or how your actions touching him in ways that he didn’t think were possible.
Life had lost its colour and appeal the moment you died and Jing Yuan had no need to feel excitement for things that he did before with you by his side.
The stars looked dull as though they were mourning you alongside him, the flowers you once given him didn’t smell as fragrant nor looked as healthy as they should’ve. Even the street food stalls didn’t seem at all appetising when you weren’t here to practically salivate over, and or give him the biggest pair of pleading puppy eyes over that never failed to elicit a chuckle out of him.
He stayed inside more often than not as everything outside might as well have been casted in black and white to Jing Yuan, with the only remnants being at your grave of which he often found himself sat in front of.
‘You once asks me what my biggest regret would be and I told you that I don’t live life with regrets, which was a lie and you knew it but didn’t speak up about it, whether it was out of respect or otherwise I’ll never know…not now at least.’ He says with a forced smile, the pain within his chest growing ever greater the more he relived your loss. ‘I am burdened with many regrets. Many of which that have threatened to squash with their weight, but loosing you will be my ultimate regret as with you I was starting to believe in forever in this life once more…only for forever to die with you.’ He concludes as he presses his forehead to your headstone and closed his eyes in hopes of feeling your warmth once more.
But all he felt was the cold, unforgiving and hard surface of your headstone as a tear fell from his eye at the reality that all aspects of you were truly gone forever…
Blade:
Your death was a tragedy Blade couldn’t forget.
It was engraved into every corner of his mind where it was made impossible for him to forget.
Even in his torturous dreams he was forced to watch you die in front of his eyes constantly and in the most horrific ways possible, all the while he remained helpless to stop any of it from happening.
Any remnant of you was clutched tightly in his hand under it bled from his nails digging into his skin, but he couldn’t feel it for he had grown numb. He’d even tie a piece of cloth from your clothes to the hilt of his sword or his finger in order to feel you with him wherever he went.
Just like you always wanted.
Blade couldn’t fully dedicate himself to being your partner but he was more than selfish with your attention and affection. He wanted it all. No, he needed it all for himself and gave you nothing much in exchange other than letting you hold onto him and kiss his scars.
He did love you in his own way and was building himself up to actually be your partner properly, only for you to die selflessly in his arms, whispering that’d you loved him before passing on from your wounds.
Blade thought he should’ve been use to death by now but your death hit him in a way that left him desiring death more than normal, in hopes that he could reunite with you and correct his wrong doings when you were alive.
Now and then in moments where Blade was faced with death, he could feel a presence next to him that felt soft, warm and felt very much like the you he was forced to remember…
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queenshelby · 1 year ago
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Business As Usual (Part Four)
Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader
Warning: Dubious Consent, Reluctant Smut, Loss of Virginity, Arranged Marriage, Religious Themes, Angst, Termination, Pregnancy 
Words: 2,145
NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
The rain poured relentlessly outside the grimy window of the narrow back-alley abortion clinic.
You sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair, your mind clouded with doubts and fear.
Lizzie Stark, a woman you only recently met, had given you the contact details of a doctor who specialised in illegal procedures like the one you wanted to have performed but questioned yourself about.
"Am I really going to do this?" you whispered to yourself, your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap. The sound of a baby crying from the adjacent room reached your ears, the piercing wails tearing at your already frayed emotions. Suddenly, the door creaked open, revealing a frail-looking doctor with weary eyes peering out from beneath a pair of thick spectacles. His expression was grave as he motioned for you to follow him.
"Y/N is it?” the doctor asked in a hushed tone and you nodded, unable to trust your voice to convey the turmoil within you.
Your heart thundered in your chest, fear and anticipation intertwined. This house, where your choice would be made, seemed to shrink around you, suffocating you with its sterile walls and unspoken possibilities. You took a deep breath, your trembling hand clutching to your purse for support. This was it. The moment of truth, where everything would change, for better or for worse.
“Ready to make your little problem disappear?" the doctor then asked as you walked into the procedure room and your eyes widened as his words sank in. The procedure room was stark and sterile, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic. The doctor instructed you to lie down on the uncomfortable metal table, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Actually," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "I'm not sure if I can go through with it,” you told the man and his face twisted into a scowl, his patience evaporating like smoke in the breeze. "Time is money, Love. If you're wasting mine, I have no qualms about showing you the door,” he said rudely and you swallowed hard, feeling a sudden surge of bravery. "I'm sorry, but I just can't do it” you told him as silence hung heavily between you, tension thickening the air.
The doctor's eyes bored into yours, searching for any hint of insecurity, any crack in the armour you had gathered around your resolve.
"Fine," he finally muttered, his voice laced with disdain. "But don't come crying to me when you're stuck with a child you don't want,” he told you and, with those haunting words, he retreated into his office, leaving you standing in the desolate waiting room, grappling with the weight of your decision.
***
Week after week then passed, and you continued to live the misery of your life while, secretly, watching your body change and adapt to the fact that you were carrying a child you did not want and about which your husband knew nothing about.
Week after week, you watched in secret as your body transformed, silently adapting to the growing life within you. The weight you carried was not just physical; it weighed heavy on your soul. Each day, you meticulously hid any evidence of your pregnancy, ensuring that Tommy remained oblivious to the truth.
In the depths of your heart, a mixture of fear, guilt, and resentment simmered as you plotted to leave this mess behind. How did you find yourself in this situation? The life growing inside you was not one you wanted, yet fate had deemed it otherwise. Your secret burden became a constant reminder of the choices you thought you had control over but ultimately surrendered to circumstance.
You had no say, a slave in your home called Arrow House, and as you struggled to navigate your own conflicting emotions, you couldn't help but wonder how Tommy would react if he ever discovered your secret. What would become of you? Would he understand your reasons or resent you for keeping him in the dark? These unanswered questions coiled tightly within you, sealing your lips and strengthening your conviction to conceal the truth.
With each passing day, the weight of the secret grew heavier. It whispered its taunting presence, reminding you of the façade you had woven around your life. You became a master of deceit, expertly masking the signs of pregnancy—sickness, tiredness, and the telltale physical changes—through careful planning and cunning improvisation.
But this wasn’t everything you concealed. You also concealed the fact that you were disgusted and hurt by the fact that your husband was treating you the way he did.
He slept with other women, mainly whores but also a fellow criminal named Laura Manning. Laura was a pawn in his game. He did not love her and yet, you couldn’t help but feel despair towards her. She worked with your husband while he did not allow you to work at all. He kept you as his prisoner, and eventually, you just sought solace in the routine of your days, feigning normalcy while the life within you flourished.
You pursued mundane activities, but behind the smiling facade was the war of emotions raging within you as you plotted to leave, somehow, going back to America. The love and attachment you should have felt for your unborn child by now was also overshadowed by the overwhelming sense of entrapment. Arrow House was nothing but a gilded cage and, week after week, you continued to play your role and maintained the illusion that everything was as it should be while you longed for the day when you could unburden yourself of all this.
You needed your own money to leave and had no access to a large amount of funds. Your husband controlled everything and, just recently, he even took away the little money you had saved beneath your bed after he caught wind of the plan you were plotting.
A fight ensued, following which leaving Arrow House was impossible for you. You were a prisoner now and with that, the secret of your unborn child was seeping into the cracks of your arranged marriage. The guilt gnawed at your soul like a relentless beast as you wondered how long you could keep the truth hidden.
You were several months pregnant now, showing slightly and just as Tommy came home again after a lengthy trip, smelling like another woman, you had enough. You could not take it anymore.
Thomas returned home earlier than you had expected. The stench of his infidelity clung to him like an invisible layer of betrayal. The moment his eyes met yours, you felt a shiver of anguish run down your spine.
His presence alone commanded attention, silencing the air with his dangerous aura. Thomas, eyes cold as steel, glanced at you, his penetrating gaze making you feel bare, vulnerable.
"Knitting, eh?” he teased you, seeing that this was how you had spent your days now that it was raining. You knitted out of boredom and his statement caused you to nod in silence while tears began to form in the corner of your eyes.
“Don't you have something more productive to do?" Tommy drawled, asserting his authority as he always did. You raised an eyebrow, your resilience fighting back this time as your ever-changing hormones got the better of you.
"Perhaps I would have if I wasn’t a prisoner in this fucking house and if my husband hadn't been busy gallivanting with his mistress yet again," you retorted, your voice dripping with bitterness. The tension grew thick between you, the air electric with unspoken words. Thomas took a step forward, his voice low and venomous.
"My personal affairs are none of your concern, eh. Our marriage is a sham, so why should I be faithful to you?” he questioned, his arrogance seeping into every syllable. Your jaw clenched, a defiant fire igniting in your eyes.
"If this is a mere sham for you, why keep me prisoner Thomas? Just let me go, after all you have done to me…” you told your husband before implementing a threat of your own.
“You know, I have told my family about your lack of liaison with me on the export provisions and I am sure it will be addressed during the next business meeting. So perhaps then you will just have to set me free” you determined to which Thomas smirked, his arrogance momentarily shifting into amusement.
"That’s funny Love” he taunted. “Since it was your uncle and aunt who made me keep you out of the family business. I wanted to keep my fucking promise to you after that awful night we shared. I thought that I owed you that much, but your family begged to differ” Tommy then said, dismissing your words with a flick of his hand.
“Excuse me?” you say surprised while a twisted smirk graced Tommy’s lips.
“I am doing exactly what your family wants from me Y/N and it is in both our interest to do so, at least for now. Trust me” Tommy told you as the room fell into an infuriating silence, tension hanging in the air like a blade waiting to strike.
Thomas stared at you, his stormy eyes searching for a hint of weakness. "But you are not as powerless as you think Love. Not against me and not against your family" Thomas finally spoke, a dangerous glimmer dancing in his eyes.
"You just need to learn how to put your foot down when sitting with the big players in this game,” your husband told you and, by that point, your heart raced, the weight of your secret threatening to suffocate you.
“This game?” you asked. “Is this what this is to you, Thomas? A fucking game?” you asked, causing your husband to chuckle.
“Yes, I do. It’s a game of power and fucking respect, both of which you need to earn if you want to make it to the top and I am at the fucking top now” Tommy exclaimed, causing you to break out in anger.
“Well, I played the game too Tommy, when I agreed to marry you. My marriage to you alone should earn me some fucking respect, but no…you are out there, fucking every whore in this town, and it isn’t even the whores that bother me. It’s Laura fucking Manning” you told Tommy, your frustration seeping into your voice. "I went into this marriage, fully aware of what I was getting myself into. But I thought that, at the very least, my commitment to you would earn me some respect” you went on to tell your husband who was stunned by your newfound confidence.
Your tone of voice conveyed your frustration and annoyance as you confronted Tommy about his affair. This arranged marriage was already far from what you had envisioned, but to discover that your husband was being unfaithful added an extra layer of irritation.
You had resigned yourself to the fact that your marriage may not be built on love, but mutual respect and fidelity should have been a given. Yet here you were, realising that even the minimal expectations you had were not being met.
Tommy's actions felt like a direct attack on your dignity, making it even more difficult to maintain any semblance of a positive outlook. The bitterness in your voice was a perfect reflection of the resentment simmering within you.
But rather than let your emotions consume you completely, you chose this moment to confront Tommy. You wanted him to understand just how much he had wounded you and how unacceptable his actions were.
As the words left your lips, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, even in your angry state. You were determined to make him face the consequences of his choices, and this confrontation would be the first step towards that.
Thus, with a determined resolve, you squared your shoulders and met Thomas's gaze head-on as he was standing there, speechless.
"I am not one to be underestimated, Thomas. You'll soon learn that," you declared, your voice laced with the strength you barely knew you possessed. Thomas chuckled, a low, mocking sound that resonated with arrogance. "Then show me, Love. Show me who you really are, " he challenged. As the tension between you rose, you felt a strange mix of anger and desire. The lines between love and hate began to blur, a dangerous dance on the edge of emotion.
Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot echoed from outside, shattering the fragile tranquillity. Thomas's eyes flickered with a flicker of alarm before he composed himself, slipping back into the role of a cold, calculating leader.
"Seems our conversation will have to wait, eh," he muttered, the urgency in his voice betraying his calm facade. "Stay here,” he then ordered, and you nodded silently, watching as he rushed out of the room with a swift determination.
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hollyhomburg · 7 months ago
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Before I Leave You (Pt.68)
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(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.
Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,
W/c: 12.4k
A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! fun fact that is actually my hand writing in the note in the moodboard....i couldn't find a pic of something i liked so i made it myself!
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
Chapter 68: Before I Leave you (Sneak peak)
You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.
You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep.
“I was just getting a glass of water.”
Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow.  Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air.
Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.
Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Checking the wounds on your hands and verifying that they’re clotting, the margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with minimal scolding). He stoops and presses a gentle kiss to the bandages after they are re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.
Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scared.
Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every word he says, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. you can give him one more minute) He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.
“Joonie?” You ask. Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there. 
Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you. He nuzzles, and you huff a soft laugh that Namjoon feels against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.
“What are you doing alpha?” 
“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.
“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tightening on your waist. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? or something? Wouldn't that be fun? Would you like that?” 
You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you loosely around your hips, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and emploring like a child.
You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this- and imagine if you actually got your happily ever after. Just like in the movies.
But glass slippers cut. Dresses are rented not owned. Good dreams have the power to hurt- even when they’re good.
It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. 
Namjoon would be a good father. 
He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard and even if it’s hard you do it together. Where you just get to live.
If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.
You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach? 
Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button.
You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. you'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of you is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you.
You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?
Still- you can't resist asking Namjoon, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the worlds hurts (or to keep you in)
“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”
Coming Saturday March 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)
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akutasoda · 3 months ago
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Hii can I request hcs with the demon bros with a teen mc who ended up being their kid? Like one day they had too much fun in the human realm and fast forward a few years later they find out the new exchange student is their kid
unknown family
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synopsis - when they found out the exchange student is their child they never knew about
includes - lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor
warnings - gn!teen!reader, maybe ooc, fluff, slight angst, wc - 1.7k
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lucifer ★↷
it had been a very long week for lucifer, paperwork upon paperwork piled high in his room and his brothers antics only ticked him off further. unfortunately, to add to the annoyances, diavolo had sprung a trip to the human world with him a couple days in advance - diavolo claimed it was to help him relax but it only stressed him out.
he hated knowing that his brothers were alone in the house of lamentation while he was up here in the human world, especially when he still had unfinished paperwork left organised in his room. but he hated the fact that he was so easily pushed by diavolo even more. he had been dragged out with diavolo late into the night and he had woken up even more disgruntled.
lucifer refused to speak of that night, he was embarrassed and nobody needed to know. he very happily could move on with his life and try to forget about evey dumb mistake he made.
---✩
↪he refused to believe it at first. if he even dared to admit it then he would have to admit those mistakes he made ages ago - he'd rather take them to his grave.
↪lucifer never said anything and he tried convincing himself that he could last the whole year without acknowledging your relation to him but something about diavolo's and barbato's smirks told him otherwise.
↪lucifer read your files over and over before he finally came to terms with the fact that you were his child, and now he felt conflicted. yes, you were related but would him being there now change anything?
↪he didn't exactly know how to even bring about talking to you, a small part of him wanted to become apart of your life but it'd been so long without him even knowing of your existence. so he was content to let you go about your life without him.. or he told himself.
mammon ★↷
initially, mammon had managed to get a trip up to the human worls for a fashion shoot to try and earn more money to pay off some debt he'd accumulated. unfortunately, he may or may not have gotten attracted to some nearby clubs close to where the studio was - mainly with the promises of gambling.
he intended to spend the night winning at the club and making more money but he only ended up waking up disgruntled with blurry memories. he couldn't even remember why he was at the club in the first place, he only knew that he needed to get backto the devildom before lucifer strung him from the ceiling.
---✩
↪oh how lucifer would kill him if he found it. frankly, mammon refused to believe it and he couldn't even remember when it would even be possible for him to have a kid - although considering you were already a teen, he could take a guess.
↪and to be honest, he was terrified. more terrified than if lucifer actually found out. he never could imagine himself being a father and now he found out he was and he wasn't even aware for your entire life! what would he do now?
↪would you forgive him? or do you simply hate him for never being around? mammon couldn't help but panic. he distanced himself for a while but eventually would feel more comfortable around you.
↪and he would finally be put at ease if you decided to stay, sure he'd still be nervous because he would have no clue how good of a father he could be but he'd try his hardest.
↪lucifer would eventually thank you because mammon definitely straightened up his act to try and be a good influence on you.
leviathan ★↷
levi hated going out, the human world was certainly way more out there than he would've liked but he couldn't exactly say no to lucifer. he hated it even more when asmo and mammon became so insistent on everyone going out for the night. as much as he tried to convince them to let him stay back, it didn't seem to be working.
he hated every single moment of it, asmo and mammon were trying way too harrd and wearing him down minute by minute. he'd just hoped they give up soon because they were slowly getting to him...
---✩
↪he practically shut down when he learnt that you were his child. there was absolutely no way he had one, let alone the new exchange student because of a mistake his brothers practically forced him into.
↪levi was absolutely terrified. he couldn't imagine you wanting a yucky otaku like him as a dad, especially when he didn't exactly know who you were until not too long ago.
↪it would take extremely long for levi to even be able to talk to you. he was way too embarrassed and he couldn't imagine you ever wanting to be associated with him and he was fine with that.
satan ★↷
what was meant to be a trip to the devildom turned into satan storming off and trying to find respite, to nobody's suprise. even up in the human world, his brothers could be absolutely insufferable and he needed time away before his wrath got the better of him again.
satan was surprised that his brothers had managed to annoy him this much - surely he should be used to them by now? so he wasn't exactly proud of what he did, nor did he want anyone finding out. satan would happily push it to the back of his mind and forget all about it and have nobody ask questions about anything.
---✩
↪ although it was certainly difficult to hide when you became the exchange student for the programme. at first, he had no clue - sure something about you was off but he just boiled it down to you being the exchange student.
↪but when he actually found out, he was intent on keeping it a secret. he was embarrassed, not about you per say, but about what had led to this very moment.
↪satan never exactly saw himself as the fatherly type but now he learnt he had a teen. and in honesty, he was too scared to get involved in your life now. you'd gone without him for so long and so you probably hate him right or don't even know who he is?
↪even if you stayed in the devildom, he'd be too cautious to get close to you. his brothers are probably more involved with you than he would be because he doesn't want to mess up.
asmodeus ★↷
asmo was well known for frequently nightclubs and bars, and that was no exception in the human world. sure he was more of a regular down in the devildom but sometimes when he had the chance, he enjoyed ehat the human world had to offer more. and so the avatar of lust engaged in the human world nightlife.
he never thought much of it afterwards either - he went about the rest of his human worls stay as usual. even when asmo went back to the devildom he never thought twice about that night nor any that followed. that was just how asmo went about his life.
---✩
↪he thought that there certainly was something familiar about you but he couldn't figure it out. and when he actually found out, he was left feeling rather conflicted.
↪at first he was scared. he'd never imagine himself having a child, let alone one that had practically grown up without him at all. he couldn't even imagine how to bring it up and what if you hated him?
↪but he eventually became rather excited. you were the exchange student and now he had one year to make it up for everything he missed - although that was practically impossible but he wanted to try.
↪and if you decided to stay down in the devildom with him, he'd be practically ecstatic! he couldn't wait to actually spend time with you properly and he would be sure to lay off a bit with his usual nightclubs.
beelzebub ★↷
a tripe to the human world wasn't exactly the best just after beel's team won a fangol tournament. sure it seemed like a reward of sorts but to beel it seemed like his brothers were more excited than he was. especially mammon and asmo, who specifically got everyone to go out for the night.
beel doesn't exactly remember much apart from asmo's and mammon's great insistence on everybody celebrating. he just hoped that nothing got out of hand.
---✩
↪beel was rather shocked to say the least. at first he couldn't reason when such a thing could've happened but it really did feel like the new exchange student was related to him. and he couldn't even find the words when he found out.
↪although, truth be told beel did want to be apart of your life now however. even if he hadn't been there at all, because he didn't know, he still wanted to be there from now on.
↪beel understood that you may or may not hate him, but he wanted to try his hardest.
belphegor ★↷
belphie just couldn't understand why his brothers wouldn't let him stay at the hotel and sleep. first, they drag him up to the human world and now they insist that they were all going out - albeit it was mainly mammon and asmo but still, he wished just to sleep until it was over.
if anything, his brother's were annoying him but he couldn't exactly escape because if he did, he was sure that mammon or asmo would drag him back. he just hope for it all to be over with and nothing to happen..
---✩
↪no. he refuses to believe it, there was absolutely zero way that he had a child - especially one that was the result of poor decisions ages ago. if anything he blamed his brothers.
↪he didn't exactly want people knowing but he knew that it was an impossible ask, so he was content just to let you go about your life without him still.
↪call it selfish, but he simply felt that he would mess up. you'd gotten by so far and he didn't exactly want to interfere with your life - only if you tried yourself, than he might become present in your life.
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kaorisun · 1 year ago
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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 immortality is an abundant curse (3)
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pairing : blade x reader
tags : hurt no comfort, angst, canon divergence
word count : 4.88k
chapters : one • two • three
crossposted to : AO3
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Summary : “Everything changed the day Imbibitor Lunae committed a grave sin in the eyes of the Xianzhou. Upon Ren, he bestowed the most abundant curse known to man.
“Immortality.”
or
The full story.
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Yanqing wears his heart on his sleeve.
Given this fact, you truly should’ve figured that Jing Yuan would know exactly who had taken his diary upon discovering it missing.
However, this thought doesn’t cross your mind, so when Jing Yuan arrives at the clinic that night to search for his young apprentice, you’re terribly startled.
Yanqing, who’d been carefully showing you the fruits of his training inside the clinic, drops his sword with a clatter, gasping upon seeing the General appear at the door.
“It wasn’t me!” he yelps indignantly. Jing Yuan gives the boy an amused look.
“Oh? I haven’t even mentioned what I’m here for. How did you know I’d accuse you?” the General questions. Yanqing deflates, having exposed himself and his guilt without the man having to do so much as lift a finger. You reach out towards Yanqing, wanting to defend the boy from any potential ire or anger.
All things considered, he’d done it for your sake. You wouldn’t let him take the blame for such a kindhearted action.
Bailu beats you to it first. Grabbing the journal from her desk, she tosses it to the General. The man catches it with one hand before looking at her curiously.
“Take it. I already read through all of it. I have a good memory. I’ll tell them the stories myself, whether you agree with it or not,” Bailu insists, turning away in annoyance. Unexpectedly, instead of disagreement or disdain, Jing Yuan chuckles and shakes his head.
“I think you’re mistaken. I didn’t come here to scold anyone or take this back. Actually, I commend Yanqing for taking a stand against me and remaining firm in his belief that you had the right to know,” Jing Yuan says with a small smile. Yanqing lets out a relieved sigh before picking up his sword, migrating to the edge of your bed to seat himself.
You tilt your head in confusion. “Why aren’t you upset?”
Jing Yuan suddenly looks sheepish, reaching back to rub his neck. “Actually, I went to the Divination Commission to inquire about this situation. Needless to say, the Master Diviner did not agree with how I handled everything.”
You hum softly, the thought bringing you some comfort. “Did she use the Matrix of Prescience to arrive at that answer?” you ask.
“Actually….” Jing Yuan trails off as he averts his gaze. Bailu pipes up with an amused huff.
“Fu Xuan scolded you, didn’t she?” she interrogates. The General sighs softly before confirming the healer’s suspicions with a small nod.
“Well, what she said, and I quote, ‘despite having the title Divine Foresight, you spend no time thinking about the consequences of your decisions. I don't even need a third eye to see why that’s wrong. Your apprentice has more of a head than you do,’ or something along those lines,” Jing Yuan recounts with a guilty expression.
“I’m glad someone got it through that thick skull of yours, General. The memories are a precious thing to the Vidyadhara race. I can hardly believe you hid so much myself,” Bailu chastises, crossing her arms.
“I know, I know. I realize my mistake,” he starts, walking over to you and sitting beside Yanqing on the edge of the bed. “I'm glad my nosy apprentice told you everything. I thought I was protecting you by keeping everything a secret, but I only caused you more stress in the end.”
You offer a gentle smile. “I went along with it without a fuss because I trusted you. It hurt, but I figured you wouldn’t hide things without reason.”
“And even knowing that I’ve been shielding you from something painful, you still want the truth?” the man asks, the worry clear in his expression. You meet his gaze and nod.
“Yes. Learning the truth is allowing me to feel more and more complete. Even if it’s upsetting, I need to know,” you insist. Jing Yuan chuckles.
“Even without your memories, you’re just as headstrong as you were back then,” he muses. “In that case, I’ll take responsibility, and I’ll be the one to deliver the truth to you.”
“At a later date,” Bailu interjects before Jing Yuan can flip open his diary to the relevant pages. “Save any new stories for tomorrow. I don’t want to strain them further.”
“Strain..?” the General mumbles. You quickly pipe in to clarify.
“Ren… I remembered my first meeting with him. I remembered loving him. But… everything else is still foggy,” you explain.
“But that was enough to make you faint! Lady Bailu is right. We should wait,” Yanqing adds. Jing Yuan looks at you and ruffles your hair affectionately.
“In that case, tomorrow. After our duties, I’ll sit down with you and tell you more. Every single day that Bailu allows it, I’ll tell you something new,” he promises. You feel your heart warm, a weight lifted off your chest.
“I’ll hold you to it. I’m sure Yanqing will, as well. Every day…” you murmur, a small grin making its way onto your face at the thought of finally securing a way to retrieve all of what you’d lost.
Soon, you’ll have all of the pieces of your past life. Once you do, you’ll finally know everything that transpired that led you to where you are now.
As excited as you are, you can’t help but feel a sense of dread.
There’s bound to be many joyous tales from your past, but the story of heartache and loss looms over you. It reminds you that, as happy as things may be, you have to prepare yourself to accept the pain and suffering of your previous life.
You can only hope that it’s something you’ll be able to handle when the time comes.
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Dusk turns to dawn, and the sun rises on a new day.
True to his word, Jing Yuan begins visiting you in the evenings at the clinic to tell you new anecdotes from your past. Filling your head with stories that feel familiar— nostalgic, he tells tales each night until your head aches, a sign that you’ve taken in enough for the day.
The General helps you recall your first meeting with him— introduced as mutual friends of Imbibitor Lunae. You slowly remember the way you would watch the two spar, happy to clean up any wounds that came as a result.
Beyond that, Jing Yuan even shares how he’d been the one to push Lunae to introduce Ren to you, having always thought that you’d be a good influence on the man. Lunae agreed, and the General had considered it a personal victory.
However, he speaks of the way you fought alongside him in battle. This fact has you curious, having always assumed you were nothing but a healer.
Jing Yuan clarifies that you were a healer, and you once took up a sword to fight against the Denizens of Abundance precisely because of that reason. Each battle he recounts has your hands ghosting over areas where you swear you feel a slight pin prick of pain.
The General mentions that each place you touch is a place where your skin had once scarred over with wounds from each fight. It makes you smile— it seems the body truly never forgets.
Days continue to pass, and with time, your mind becomes less and less fractured. With each new tale, you grow more and more sure of who you are now and who you once were. Skills you once forgot become second nature once more. Memories return to you sometimes with the assistance of Jing Yuan and Bailu. Others enter your mind naturally, a byproduct of the newfound exposure to your past life.
Bailu notes your increased skill and confidence in healing, recognizing the way you improve as you remember the techniques of your profession. Your heart fills with warmth. You start to feel like yourself again— no longer a wanderer with nothing but shards of the past to their name.
Yet, as elated as you are to make such progress, it’s bittersweet.
You know they’re still deliberately avoiding how it all ended— how your Ren became Blade, the nature of your relationship, anything to do with him. Given that they’ve yet to broach the topic, all of those memories remain locked behind a wall. Unlike other moments, you’re unable to recollect it on your own— likely too heavy a topic to be triggered without help.
A frown appears on your face. You haven’t felt more sound of yourself in ages. Are you still unprepared? Is everyone coddling you once more?
How tragic a topic is the reality of your disappearance to cause them to hold off for this long?
Either way, it fills you with uncertainty and unease. You resolve to ask about it that evening, but it seems you don’t have to, for fate aligns itself at the perfect time.
As the sun begins to fall beneath the horizon, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, and Bailu all approach you, seating you on the bed as they surround you. Their expressions are all terse— hesitant.
You’re about to ask about what’s occurred— unsettled by the tension, but Jing Yuan is the first to speak up, interrupting any thoughts you have.
“You’ve made significant progress with your memory recovery. Bailu has deemed you mentally sound enough to learn of the truth. I’ll tell you everything. Who he was in regards to you, what happened to him… and how it all ended,” the General explains. Your heart flutters in nervousness and anticipation alike.
“Everything…?” you echo. Bailu nods.
“You’ve retained everything else well. I can’t promise that this won’t cause some sort of physical reaction. Much like the first time, it’s likely you’ll experience some pain, but… if we’re right, this should be the last time,” the healer promises with a determined gaze. You smile, feeling comfort in the resolve of those around you.
“Alright. I trust you,” you say. Bailu nods to Jing Yuan, who seats himself beside you as he begins to recount his experience from his memories.
He starts. “There’s one thing I’m certain about. The way you could never tell how Ren felt towards you seems to have stuck. You were the same back then, but I knew— everyone knew that Ren loved you more than anything in this world.”
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“For a while, you didn’t realize just how hard Ren had fallen for you. It was incredibly obvious to the rest of us, though. Perhaps… it was because you were always looking away. When he regarded you with nothing but pure adoration, you were inevitably turned in the other direction.”
Ren lets out an affectionate sigh as he looks at you, head propped on his hand as he watches you stare down at your work table in pure concentration. The soft grind of pestle against mortar resounds through the building. Jing Yuan chuckles softly, looking at Ren with a smirk.
“Do you plan on saying anything to them? Or are you determined to long in secrecy for the rest of your life?” he questions, teases slipping off his tongue. Ren narrows his eyes at the man.
“Watch yourself, General,” he retorts. Jing Yuan lets the empty threat slide off him with ease, refusing to back down.
“All you do is sigh and stare in every moment you spend in their presence. Why are you so hesitant?” he asks. Ren glances away towards the herbs and medicines lining the walls— all fruits of your labor.
“They’re dedicated to their craft. They wouldn’t have the time for such frivolity,” he laments. Jing Yuan hums and gives a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Nonsense. They have plenty of time to spare. I often hear them complaining that they have too much time to Lunae,” Jing Yuan counters. Ren tenses, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“I doubt they feel the same affection for me as I do for them,” he mumbles. The General has to hold back from barking out a laugh.
“Please! That’s absolutely absurd. All I hear from you are excuses,” he insists. Before Ren has a chance to retaliate, another voice speaks up.
“The General is right about this, as boastful as he’s acting currently,” Imbibitor Lunae adds in, seating himself at the table with the two. “Both of you have a limited amount of time, Ren. It’d be unwise to waste it wondering if they feel the same.”
“Exactly. Besides, if you hold back on making a move, maybe I will,” Jing Yuan jests with a smirk. Ren shoots up in his seat.
“You will not!” he seethes before rolling his eyes, practically stomping off to retreat to your side. Jing Yuan watches in amusement.
“Do you think he’ll say anything or just sulk as per usual?” he asks. The dragon beside him hums.
“Have more faith in him. You pushed him right where he needed to be pushed. Just observe for now,” Lunae says, and Jing Yuan does so.
“I guess Ren really was at his wits end at that point, and Lunae was able to pick up on it. We watched, and you leapt into his arms after he professed his love. All of us knew it was a matter of time before you ended up together, but seeing it… it was a weight lifted for all of us.
“You two were finally happy.
“For a while after that, things were calm and comforting. Ren came to terms with his short life since you’d be there to spend it with him. I’d never seen anything make him happier than the day you became his, and he, yours.
“Truthfully, I think, that day, he found something worth living for in his relationship with you. Of course, he had the rest of us, but we were all long-life species. In you, he came to understand why life was so precious— why he had to treasure his existence, no matter the length of it.
“Alas, he was still… reckless, but just in the normal, stubborn, and headfast way that he always was. You were always there to scold him for it, but we all could tell it was different. Ren was fighting for his beliefs— no longer careless about his life. He was, in lack of better terms, himself.
“As I’m sure you’re aware by now, such tranquility couldn’t last forever.
“Everything changed the day Imbibitor Lunae committed a grave sin in the eyes of the Xianzhou. Upon Ren, he bestowed the most abundant curse known to man.
“Immortality.
“It was supposed to be another battle, but the two of them had been taking far longer than usual. Both of us were worried— aware that something was amiss, but afraid to speak it aloud lest we manifest it into reality…”
Jing Yuan watches you pace nervously outside of the hall. From where he leans against the wall, he can see the frenzied fear in your eyes as you look out in the distance every few minutes, hoping to see Lunae and Ren in the horizon.
The General is equally as concerned, but he knows that he must remain grounded to keep you sane.
“Imbibitor Lunae and Ren are both capable warriors. I’m sure that they’re fine. They’re probably just falling behind,” Jing Yuan reasons. You shake your head in disagreement.
“It’s been weeks. That’s not normal. The last time it took this long, someone—” you cut yourself off, flinching. The man’s expression becomes grim. He knows you’re right— that your worry is not unwarranted.
Neither of you wanted to be “too late” again.
Walking up beside you, Jing Yuan nudges you gently.
“Let’s head out. We’ll find them ourselves,” the General assures. You offer a wry smile and nod, but before either of you can make a move, another voice interjects.
“No need. We’ve returned,” Lunae says as he approaches with Ren by his side. Jing Yuan can see your excitement, but then watches as you freeze, expression falling as you look at Ren. The General notices what you do, too.
It isn’t uncommon to return from prolonged battles covered in blood, tattered with memories of the ongoing war. However, Ren seems far too pristine to have just returned from a battlefield. He’s glowing in a way that seems… unnatural.
Your eyes shift to Imbibitor Lunae, and suddenly your eyes are cold— distant.
“I think you caught something in his mannerisms that I couldn’t. You saw something that I couldn’t see, quickly catching on that something was inherently wrong— that they were hiding something.”
“What happened?” you ask, a seriousness in your tone that felt incredibly off-putting, given that you were referring to your lover and close friend. Instead of a response, Ren reaches towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace as if his life depended on it.
You pause, carefully wrapping your arms around Ren, running fingers through his hair as you repeat your earlier question.
“What happened?” you inquire, almost pleading now. Ren stills in your arms, silently burying his face in your neck. You frown, looking to Lunae once more for answers. Jing Yuan doesn’t move from his spot, either, trying to make sense of what it is you’re picking up on.
Eventually, beneath your persistent gaze, Lunae cracks.
“Ren nearly died on the battlefield,” he admits. You tighten your grip on your lover, eyes wide with a shock that Jing Yuan mirrors.
“He looks perfectly fine… he’s walking on his own two feet, and there isn’t a trace of blood on him…” you note in disbelief. Imbibitor Lunae looks away, seeming guilty in the way his eyes fall.
“I know. That’s because I…” Imbibitor Lunae goes quiet, unable to bring himself to finish his thought. Jing Yuan narrows his eyes, arms crossing over his chest as he looks at the other.
“You what?” the General interrogates. However, the dragon doesn’t spare him a glance, instead looking to you with something that makes your eyes fill with fury. Before he can raise questions, you’re quick to clarify.
“You made him immortal? Why would you do such a grievous thing?!” you snap, forcefully separating yourself from your lover. Ren reaches for you desperately, but you take a step back. Jing Yuan easily recognizes the look of betrayal on your face.
“I can explain—” Ren starts, but you cut him off harshly.
“What is there to explain here?! I’ve treated the Mara-Struck— victims of the Sanctus Medicus, and you want to explain? I’m a healer and even I’m aware that immortality isn’t a remedy of any sort! It’s a venom! A curse!” you yell, eyes brimming with tears. Jing Yuan remains mute, unable to understand why anyone would resort to such a taboo method for any reason, especially given all that they’d witnessed together.
“Please, calm yourself and allow us to talk this o—” Before Lunae can finish his thought, you interrupt.
“Calm myself? Imbibitor Lunae, have you forgotten that I’m dying? In a few decades, I’ll be gone! Ren no longer has the mercy of dying by my side! He’ll have to witness everything!” you cry out, voice cracking as tears slip down your cheeks.
“He’ll endure so much suffering, and he’ll never be able to die…” you whisper, finally gathering enough strength to meet Ren’s gaze. “You promised.”
Ren is quick to scoop you into his arms, wiping your tears away with his thumb.
“I also promised to return to you. We’re both here now. That must count for something. Without immortality, I wouldn’t have returned to greet you again— to hold you again. And immortality doesn’t change a thing. I still plan to remain by your side for eternity,” he promises softly. You look up at him, an unfathomable sadness in your eyes.
Briefly, Jing Yuan catches you glancing at Lunae. There’s a wordless exchange in the expression you share with the Vidyadhara. The General has no idea what it is that you both say, but it’s enough because soon you’re releasing a defeated sigh.
“I’m glad you’re alright, Ren,” you say softly. Ren smiles, leaning down to kiss you gently. You reciprocate for a moment before pulling away, allowing yourself to enjoy the warmth of his presence.
Despite everything, Jing Yuan can tell that it isn’t something you’d ever move on from.
“You never brought up Ren’s immortality of your own accord ever again after that day. If it came up in conversation, you always excused yourself to be alone for a while.
“There was a time that I confronted you about it, though. I knew it was forbidden, but I needed to know what was going through your head. Honestly, I don’t think I could ever forget what you said to me that day.”
“Why wouldn’t I be upset, Jing Yuan?” you start, head in hands as you shut your eyes tight.
“There will come a time where Ren suffers unimaginable pain, and I won’t be there to help him. There will come a day where myself, Imbibitor Lunae, and even you aren’t there to support him through his suffering,” you explain. The General pauses, not having thought that far into the future.
You continue in his silence. “My death is just the start. I don’t think Ren understands how much of a tragedy that is. Soon, we will all leave him, and he’ll come to understand that death is far more merciful than being the last person left alive of all those you’ve grown to love.”
You frown and walk off, your words weighing heavily in Jing Yuan’s heart.
“I grew to understand exactly how right you were in your assumption as the years passed. When you faded away and crumbled— I witnessed firsthand how cruel his affliction was.
“Ren knew he couldn’t live without seeing you once more, I don’t think he ever thought about the inevitable day where he’d have to learn to live without you entirely.
“The day you disappeared… I could tell everything weighed heavily on your mind. In the face of your inevitable demise, you still worried for Ren.”
Jing Yuan lets out a soft sigh, watching Lunae and Ren leave for their duties. Glancing back to you on the bed, he tilts his head.
“You looked like you had more to say back then. Something else on your mind?” he asks as he seats himself on the edge of your bed. You look at him, a serious look in your eyes.
“I promise that, one day, I will find my way back to you all. One day, I’ll return, so Ren won’t have to suffer on his own,” you swear. Jing Yuan offers a sympathetic smile.
“Unless you’re a Vidyadhara, reincarnation is just a legend,” he mentions. You don’t respond, instead humming in acknowledgement to the General’s statement.
“Of course, I didn’t know you were one back then, but what I did know is that you were incredibly firm in your desire. Either way, I’d brushed it off.
“I left the room to make your medicine, but you had disappeared when I returned. Only then did I realize… that promise was your last wish— your final resolve.”
Jing Yuan continues his explanation, telling you the results of your disappearance.
Ren was never the same. He spent countless hours looking for you— searching for a body, but you’d vanished completely, much like the Mara-Struck who faded into nothingness. From that day forth, Ren’s mind fractured and he grew resentful of his curse.
As you predicted, the rest of your group slowly began to die out, your lover forced to suffer through each and every one knowing he’d never be granted the same reprieve.
Then came time for Imbibitor Lunae to pass and reincarnate.
“After Lunae died, Ren disappeared entirely, his mind shattered beyond repair— a shell of who he once was. Losing his bosom friend was the final straw.
“I tried to search for him, but he’d vanished from the Xianzhou Alliance entirely. I figured he didn’t want to be found, so I was forced to move on lest I suffered the same fate:
“Lost in our past without direction or will to live.”
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Jing Yuan sighs as he finishes the story, shaking his head. “I thought it all a distant memory, then I saw you again on the Luofu as Bailu’s assistant. You looked the same way you did back then.”
“At first, I thought you just looked similar, but then I saw the horns and tail and I knew— you’d found your way back as promised, and you were a Vidyadhara. I’m sure I acted strange when we first met, but I was trying to confirm that it was really you,” he admits.
The memory of that day rushes to the forefront of your mind. The Arbitor-General had followed you and Bailu back to the clinic. His eyes were trained on your tail, watching the way it swayed as you worked before his gaze settled on your horns.
Jing Yuan had carefully observed you as you made medicine at Bailu’s work table, humming a tune that you’d heard from earlier in the day. It startled you how attentive he was being, but now it made sense.
“I confirmed it through your mannerisms and habits. I saw the way you carefully healed others. Then, you expressed familiarity towards me and that sealed it. Unfortunately, I knew you were without your memories.
“I had been keeping tabs on Blade since he appeared on the IPC’s most wanted list, and I vowed to protect you from him. If he saw you and you didn’t remember him, I had a feeling it wouldn’t go well,” Jing Yuan says, frowning.
“I thought protecting you meant guarding you from the truth so you never had to learn of the tragedy that became of your past lover, but I know now that you have to make this choice yourself. By deliberately concealing this, I’ve already hurt you enough,” he finishes softly, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.
You remain silent and still, staring blankly ahead. From the corner of your eye, Bailu frowns.
“Are you alright?” she asks, preparing for any sort of pain that might occur as a result of everything.
Instead, tears begin to slip down your cheeks, dripping down onto your hands as you grip your robes tightly in your lap. Smiling sadly, you blink rapidly in an attempt to clear your vision of the glistening drops.
Jing Yuan is the first to react, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away your tears gently as you sniffle softly.
“What’s the matter?” the General questions, concern etched into his features. You shake your head, words caught in your throat.
Everything in your mind is clicking into place, pieces falling and fitting together.
Ah, of course. I promised this so long ago, your mind echoes. I said that I’d return— that I’d remember— so I could make it back to you and protect you from the curse you fell into.
Your shoulders shake as you begin to sob. The General pulls you into a tight embrace, Yanqing leaning against your side in an attempt to provide comfort as well.
You usually never remember any last reincarnations as a Vidyadhara. Memory is a spectrum for your kind, and you always ebbed on the side of starting with an entirely clean slate. It’s why you were so certain you’d die when you left to be born again.
You wouldn’t take any memories of your past with you, and you wouldn’t recall them.
Except, this time you did.
Dying and rebirthing with such a strong resolve meant that, since you awoke in this new life, you’ve always felt that something was missing.
Now, you know what it is.
But it’s too late, isn’t it?
You bury your face in Jing Yuan’s shoulder as you cry, mourning the past you lost, and the lover you abandoned in this world.
If Blade’s mind fractured so long ago, do you even hold a place in his memories anymore?
Is there anything you could do in your current state to help him?
Or was all of this remembrance for naught?
For this, you had no answer.
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Hidden away somewhere in the Luofu, a woman observes a man from afar.
Kafka recognizes the distant expression Blade wears as he stares out at the scenery and passing Starskriffs. It’s vulnerable— longing— one that he only wears when he thinks no one is watching.
However, her attention is diverted elsewhere when her phone vibrates with an incoming text. Glancing down at the device, she smirks as she reads the message.
Kafka. Plans have changed. Blade’s initial wish will be granted.
The woman raises a brow in amusement, typing and replying to his message with a teasing response.
Even we aren’t capable of necromancy, Elio.
Instead of commenting on her witty remarks, he merely sends back a simple text which serves as enough of an explanation for Kafka.
The Vidyadhara has remembered themself, thus returning to who they once were.
Await new instructions.
The woman looks back up at Blade, smirking as she pockets her phone.
What new side of him will she be able to witness? What sort of expression will he have when Elio surprises him with this?
Kafka can’t wait to see how this story plays out.
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tag rqs : @ceylestia - @thetwinkims - @astralsity - @kaminari-no-ritsusha - @jotaro-souped
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readyplayerhobi · 1 year ago
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Knife's Edge | Epilogue
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; Mafia!Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader
; Genre: Fluff, mild angst
; Word Count: 3.6k
; Synopsis: The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an  unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?
; A/N: Recent interest in this series again has inspired me to finally write an epilogue - it's just fluffy nonsense, honestly. But I hope you enjoy it either way! Thank you for all the love on this series!
Previous Chapter
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Five Years Later
Humming quietly, you carefully take the baby foxglove out of its pot and place it into the hole you've dug. The dirt is soft and malleable - not too hard to dig, but not borderline mud, either. The plant looks tiny compared to some of the giants surrounding it, but you know this little one will grow taller than them all.
It might not be much now, but in a few months, it will be a few feet high and blossoming with delicate purple blossoms, the petals sighing down to the ground. Beautiful flowers that will hide a dark secret - foxgloves are as deadly as they are pretty.
That wasn't why you were planting it, though. You just thought they were pretty, the reason why you'd planted everything in the extensive garden of your home. The mansion Jungkook lived in, and now you, was huge and the gardens were equally so.
Neither of his parents had ever cared what the gardens looked like, so they'd just hired landscapers and gardeners to care for it. But when you'd married Jungkook and officially moved in, you'd asked if you could take over the garden beds. It was a new passion you'd discovered over the months leading up to your wedding - hours spent knelt in the dirt in between your classes and exams.
Unlike people, plants weren't judging. They didn't care what you'd done, or what you thought and they had no opinions of you. They just existed, and they were happy to get the attention.
It probably wasn't too healthy, but you'd used the plants as therapy. Hours upon hours had been spent with you whispering all your secrets to them, your hopes and dreams and fears and regrets being woven into their leaves as they grew. A real therapist would've been more helpful, but what kind of therapist would be able to help someone like you?
They'd have to be Clan approved, which in turn would mean you couldn't possibly tell them what you really thought. No one knew why Jungkook and you had suddenly had a rift so deep that he'd refused to see you for weeks. And everyone knew that something bad had happened - Jungkook was, and still is, infamous in the Clan for his weak spot for you.
Anything you told a therapist would be spread throughout the Clan like wildfire, the winds of gossip spreading the fires of rumour faster and higher than you could hope to outrun. The whole Clan would know that you'd cheated on Jungkook, that you'd betrayed him in the worst way a woman could in the Clan. On top of that, everyone would know that Jungkook had overlooked it - that he'd opted to forgive you for your transgression and love you still.
You'd be vilified for being unfaithful, and he'd lose all respect from the Clan he now ruled. 
No, you couldn't tell anyone what had happened. A secret you would take to your grave, with only 3 people aware of it outside of yourself. And none of them had any interest in it getting out.
Still, you hadn't wanted the ghost of unsaid anger and resentment haunting your relationship, so you'd done a lot of research into therapy. It’s not as good as going to an actual, qualified therapist, but it's better than nothing. Plus, you can only imagine the judgment if people find out Jungkook had been attending therapy - the backwards views of the Clan would have them screaming that he wasn't fit to lead if he was going to therapy of all things.
So you watched videos and you read things, until you had a basic understanding of how to navigate things. Jungkook and you talked things out instead of keeping secrets, you let him know if you were feeling lonely or sad and he let you know if he was feeling overwhelmed or unhappy. Some things you'd improvised yourself, all in the name of making sure you both communicated.
If there was an argument, then you would both write down why you were angry on a piece of paper and then let the other read it. Jungkook had thought this was silly at first, but getting out his stress and anger on paper instead of shouting it let him think through what he was annoyed over. Most of the time, you both discovered that you weren't angry at the other, but at something else and it had simply bubbled up.
Just last year, you'd both had an argument with you snapping at Jungkook for not taking his laundry upstairs. He'd snapped back, pointing out that he'd been busy all day and the laundry was the least of his worries. Cue a ten-minute argument before Jungkook grabbed a notepad, ripped out two pages and handed you a pen. The two of you had scribbled furiously, brows creased in concentration and jaws tight with frustration.
What had started with you being annoyed at him for not taking his laundry, after asking him many times, was revealed to be that you were feeling lonely in the big house on your own. He'd been busy, true, which meant he'd barely been home for a month and when he had been home, he'd been either asleep or locked in his office. Whilst you'd been able to graduate college and take a job as a teacher - much to the shock and horror of pretty much everyone in the Clan - it had summer vacation. You'd had no work to do during the time off.
As unhealthy as it was, he was still your only friend in the Clan - other women steered clear of you after the Incident - and you'd been desperately lonely and sad. You’d had casual friends - acquaintances from work and a few elderly folks from the gardening club you'd joined, but no one you could be open and honest with. You'd wanted your husband, your best friend.
Ironically, Jungkook had been irritated by his work just like he'd said. But when he drove down into it, he was annoyed that the busiest period had occurred at the same time you were off work. He'd wanted to spend time with you, maybe even go on vacation, yet he'd barely seen you. Add on his irritation at idiotic people in the Clan putting people's lives in danger and he'd been a powder keg of annoyance.
Understandably, you'd both apologised once you'd figured out why the argument had happened. Though Jungkook had felt terrible that you'd been so sad - he'd never quite forgiven himself or the Clan for isolating you, even if it had been warranted at the time.
Patting down the soil around the plant until it's fully compacted, you hum lightly before brushing your hands together. Dirt falls to the floor from the gloves and you sit up, stretching your back with a wince and a groan. As much as you love being in the garden, your back certainly doesn't.
Standing, you grab the empty plant pots and begin to tidy up after yourself. It's meant to rain later tonight, so you don't bother watering the new plants.
Before you even get to the door that leads to the kitchen, you hear the low tones of Jungkook's voice from inside. He's home early, you think, you check the time on your phone before washing your hands in the sink.
“Here's mommy!” He coos, and you turn to see him holding your four-month-old daughter in his arms, her back to his chest. Jungkook grins at you over the top of her head, his hair perfectly gelled into place as dimples dot his tan skin.
He hadn't even bothered changing yet, still in his crisp all-black suit that he'd left in this morning. The only thing he was missing was his shoes - instead, he was just wearing black socks.
Hana squeals with excitement as she recognises you, chubby legs kicking out as her arms windmill and your heart swell with love and adoration for her. For him, too. A few years ago, you'd thought this would all be an impossible dream - yet here you are, married to him and with the perfect little girl.
“Hey, beanie! You being good for daddy?” Leaning forward, you tickle her sides and smile in delight as she wriggles in Jungkook's arms. She's such a perfect baby and has been adored by Jungkook and you since you'd seen the two pink lines in the pregnancy test. Life without her was an impossible thought, and the whole Clan knew that Hana was more important to Jungkook than anything in the Clan. He didn't care if the idea of him being a loving parent shocked some of them, if anything he believed that there were people in the Clan who needed to see what an actual parent should be.
The only thing that concerned you was Jungkook's love for Hana and you were also well known to other Clans. A deep-rooted fear was that one of them would try to attack him through Hana, despite the high levels of protection he put in place. It was something that the two of you could only attempt to mitigate, as there was no way to completely cut off the threat. Even turning whistle-blower to the government wouldn't guarantee protection.
But Jungkook did what he could. You both at least had the relief of knowing that Hana, and yourself, were safe from the rival Clan in your city. Jimin had taken over a few years ago, and even though your friendship was much more sporadic than it had been, he'd made it clear that no one was to hurt you or Hana for fear of a war breaking out.
That was his excuse, but you knew he just didn't want you or your baby girl hurt. Whilst Jungkook wasn't exactly thrilled that you were still friends with Jimin in some way, he'd been grateful to find out that Jimin had given you friendship and comfort when the whole Clan had turned against you. He was even more grateful to find out the protection that Jimin had bestowed, and if it wouldn't have caused issues with both sides then he would have let you introduce Jimin to Hana.
No one could ever say Jungkook wasn't a reasonable person. If anything, he was too reasonable when it came to you, but he'd put aside his dislike of Jimin because he'd been the only person there for you in your darkest days.
“I'm guessing you turned off the monitor, as mine didn't go off.” You ask Jungkook, gesturing to the baby monitor attached to your belt. He liked to surprise you with her, and there was nothing more you loved than seeing your big, tough husband holding his tiny baby girl. You didn't understand the logic of it, but it made you want to do things that could not be spoken aloud around Hana.
“Yeah, she was just starting to wake so I thought I'd take her instead of bothering you. You seemed pretty happy in the garden.” He replies, kissing Hana’s dark hair fondly.
No matter what the Clan thought of you, there could be no denying that Hana was Jungkook's daughter. She'd inherited his eyes, from their shape to the way they seemed to shine at nothing. The two of them next to each other made the family resemblance even stronger.
You'd made some terrible decisions in your life, but you liked to think Hana made up for them. She sure made Jungkook happier than he'd ever been, which was more than enough for you.
Leaning forward, you kiss Hana’s forehead and cherish the squeal of delight she gives at the affection. She adores her mommy and daddy - you won't accept anyone’s comments that she's a baby and they all love their parents that much. Hana, of course, is special.
“Someone's had a good nap, haven't you? You get it from your daddy, he sleeps like a log, too.” Smiling, you tickle her stomach around Jungkook's arms and enjoy the sharp peals of laughter she gives. Pregnancy hadn't been fun, and there were nights when you questioned why you'd done this, but it all went away when you heard that laughter.
“The sleep genes are strong in the Jeon's.” Jungkook laughs, leaning past Hana to press a kiss to your lips. He's not wearing his lip ring, or his earrings, as Hana had a habit of grabbing them and not letting go. Jungkook might be the head of an entire Clan that does plenty of shady shit, but he whined like a baby himself when Hana was tugging on those rings and you were constantly afraid she was going to accidentally rip them from him.
You missed them, but he put them back in for date nights or when he was going to his job. Miss Hana would have to wait till she was older to get to see daddy with his piercings again.
You're distracted away from that thought process by the way Hana starts making familiar noises, her tiny body bouncing in Jungkook's arms whilst her eyes are focused firmly on your chest.
“Okay, looks like someone is hungry.” You say, reaching out and taking Hana into your arms. She almost immediately starts nuzzling, trying to root out her source of food and makes some cranky noises when your top prevents her from reaching her goal. It’s a familiar process by now, and you take comfort in it as you head through to the living room - despite the house becoming Jungkook’s after he took over for his father, the two of you only use half of it, with the other half still housing his parents.
You’d had no interest in kicking them out of their home, especially as you thought this house was ridiculously large anyway. So, instead, Jungkook renovated the mansion until it was technically two houses in one with an office section in the centre for Clan business. It gave you the privacy you needed, without taking away from the prestige it gave to Jungkook. You didn’t have to worry about Clan business being brought into your personal space, as there was no way to access your side from the offices.
The living room was still an obscene size, but you’d chosen an equally large sofa to take up most of the space. It was somewhere that Jungkook and you enjoyed laying on to relax after a long day, and Jungkook had installed a screen projector instead of a TV. Hana was going to love this room when she was older, and you could already see the fights between her and Jungkook when they wanted to watch something in particular.
“Hang on, lemme just sort this-” Jungkook mutters as he moves past you, heading over to where the corner of the sofa intersects with the other part and patting the cushions into place. He was the master at creating a snuggle zone for you with enough support that nursing Hana didn’t cause any backache, but today you wanted to enjoy the fact he was here with you.
“Can you sit with us? Or let me lean on you?” You ask, bouncing Hana lightly as you try to distract her enough until he’s done. She’s getting impatient though, and the soft whining sounds are starting to turn a little more upset. Another few minutes and she’ll start crying.
Jungkook pauses, looking up at you with raised brows before smiling. He doesn’t even try to hide the happiness that takes over, and your heart skips a little at the pure joy and love radiating from him.
“Yeah, gimme a sec.” He says, rearranging the cushions so it’s comfy for two to sit in before quickly taking off his jacket. It’s thrown onto the sofa without a second glance, and you take a moment to wince at the elegant fabric - it’s going to crease and you know for a fact that jacket is worth a few grand. But he’s never cared about stuff like that, and you need Hana fed sooner rather than later so you don’t mention it.
“Okay, come on princess, let’s get our little bean fed.” Standing back for a second, Jungkook grins at you happily as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms, revealing the ink on them that is a colourful contrast to the rest of him. He sits down and holds out an arm, which you happily sink into before readjusting until you’re comfortable enough to sit for a while.
Hana’s face creases and the first sounds of that heartbreaking cry start to leave her. Hurriedly, you coo to her as you lift your shirt and pull your nursing bra down slightly. There’s a brief moment where you’re worried she’s going to start screaming, but her mouth latches onto your nipple and almost immediately she settles as she begins to feed heartily.
Letting out a deep breath, you let your head roll back onto Jungkook’s shoulder before smiling at him.
“Crisis averted.” You laugh, wincing ever so slightly as Hana suckles a little too painfully. Jungkook smiles at you and looks down at his little girl, his smile turning so soft. Being around Hana is always so soothing to him, even when she’s screaming with tears flowing because she’s the complete opposite of his job as the head of the Clan. She’s peace and joy and happiness and love whereas his job is often anger and frustration and violence.
He’s made it clear to you that Hana will get to do whatever she wants when she grows up. If she wants to go to college, she can or if she wants to join the Clan, then she can. Jungkook refuses to let her gender hold her back, and even though he doesn’t want her involved in the dark side of his life, he’s going to let her decide. If she wants to walk away from the Clan forever, then he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’ll live a safe life. There’s going to be those in the Clan who will bristle at these decisions he’s making, but he’s already told you that he doesn’t care. His daughter and her happiness are more important than anything else, and you’ll support him 100%.
Sighing quietly, you let yourself relax and just watch Hana as she feeds. Her life is so uncomplicated right now, and she’s got so much to look forward to as she grows.
“Are you happy?” You ask Jungkook, not even realising you were thinking the words until they’ve left your mouth. There’s a moment of silence as Jungkook processes what you’ve said, and you feel him tense ever so slightly.
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” The tension in him is from confusion more than anything else, and you let out a soft sigh before shifting until the back of your head is resting in the crook of his neck. Of course, he’s happy, why wouldn’t he be? But deep down inside, you know that you’ve never forgiven yourself for what you did, and there’s a part of you that’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The small part of you that’s terrified you’ll make a mistake one day and Jungkook will throw you out again, only this time keeping your daughter. It’s ridiculous, and you know that he’d never do it, but you’ve never been able to get rid of that tiny voice that says dark things to you in the back of your mind.
“Ignore me, seriously, ignore me - I’m happy and I know you’re happy. I love you. Hana is perfect, and I love her so much. She’s the best present you’ve ever given me. I dunno, I’m just tired and taking crap.” Letting out a huff of laughter, you inhale deeply and let it out in a slow motion. You’re not lying, you are tired lately and still hormonal. A four-month-old baby who relies on you to feed her means that you’re exhausted, and you’re already feeling your body start to shut down as you sit comfortably in the arms of your husband with the warm weight of your baby against you.
Jungkook presses his lips to your temple, letting them rest there for a moment.
“One day, you’ll finally believe me when I say I forgive you. But I’ll say it again - I forgive you, and I love you, and I don’t want to spend a day of my life without you. If I died tomorrow, then I’d die happy knowing I got the chance to love you and Hana. So yes, I’m happy and I’ve been happy and I’ll be happy. Please, stop beating yourself up for it.” He kisses your head again, and you’re too tired and hormonal to be hearing his words rationally. 
You start to cry, your chest heaving in a way that makes Hana grumble at being jostled but the thought of him being gone makes your heart ache so painfully. 
“Please don’t die, please.” Your plea makes him laugh quietly, and he wraps his arm around your front, just above where Hana is, and hugs you.
“Okay, okay, those were the wrong words to say when you’re nursing. My bad, forget I said it. I’m not gonna die, okay? Just…focus on that I love you. I love you, princess. Always have, always will.” Tears falling down your face, you tilt your head up until you’re able to kiss him. It’s nothing vulgar or intense, but the depth of emotions in that small kiss makes you feel so much.
“I love you, too. And Hana, I love her so much.”
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igotanidea · 9 months ago
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Specter: Jason Todd x ghost!reader (pt 1)
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Warnings: death of reader (duh!), death and resurrection of the other main character, angst
***
She was his best friend.
His only friend.
More than his friend.
Knowing each other since they were kids running loose on the streets of Gotham forced to tend to themselves.
He chuckled at the memory of their first meeting.
Fighting over few apples and a half loaf of bread she managed to rim from some man while batting her elalashes and making innocent face of a street-starving girl.
Well, she was a street starving girl, but as far away from innocent as they come, of which fact Jason was almost brutally made aware upon trying to steal some of it from her. Gaining a bruised eye and a scratch that left a tiny scar on his arm instead.
A well-deserved scar, cause even after all those years he was mentally cringing at the memory he was actually trying to rob a girl his age of food. Terrible thought. In his defence, he was starving himself.
Fortunately, they somehow came to an agreement and since then, there was always someone to care for and who could take care of them by their side.
Y/N and Jason.
Together even when not.
Inseparable even after that batmobil-tires accident, cause there was no way in hell Jason would start living with the Bruce Wayne and left his best only friend behind.
Nah.
So would anyone be surprised that after a while they actually started falling in love? Or maybe they were in love from the beggining since the apples but never noticed?
The point however stood, obvious to everyone but those two donkey level stubborn young adults.
So apart from a few stolen kisses, helluva blushing, talking through the nights, secret awkward hugs and one attempt at intimacy, nothing—
Ok, you know what scratch that last sentence. A LOT has happened in the span of a few weeks. And it brought them significantly closer. Hoping for more and actually trying to work towards more.
So when Jason, at the mature age of 16 went for another Batman-related mission, he pecked her lips and promised to have the real talk about their future when he gets back.
Spoiler alert: He never did.
And when Batman walked to the Batcave with no Robin to follow him and broke the news it was like Y/N’s heart was gone with Jason’s life.
Torn from her chest since at that moment it stopped beating and everything lost its meaning.
She refused to eat, drink, talk and get up in the morning. Spending her days in isolation or sitting by his symbolical grave since the body was never found.
Withering her young life away at the graveyard.
No one ever told her the truth.
***
Miraculously Jason came back five years later. Completely different than a scrawny kid everyone used to know him. Raging terror upon Gotham for a while before actualy forming some kind of allegiance with the Bats. And at some point, the question had to be asked. And the hard truth had to be revealed.
„Where is Y/N?” he whispered, getting shy, gulit, regret and remorse filling him to the brim as he was searching through the entire manor in search for her.
A few saddened looks were exchanged between his siblings as those words rung in the air.
Oh, no.
„Where the hell is she?!” Jason yelled, ready to punch a wall, hit Dick in the face and beat the shit out of Bruce for keeping something from him.
„Jaybrird—„
„Do not fucking call me that Grayson! Where is my Y/N?!”
„No one told you—„
„She;s dead.” Damian muttered, unaware of the consequences of dropping such a bomb on his brother. „We burried her a year—„
Jason roared like a wounded animal, nearly making the glass in the window shutter.
„DEAD?!!”
„Jason—„
„STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”
„I think you should-„
„YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING DICKHEAD!”
The rage creeping inside Jason’s head and heart was suffocating. Beating the post-Pit madness multiple times and seeming neverending. He panted and wailed, wanting to destroy something. Kill someone. Anyone, but preferably the one responsible for Y/N;s premature departure from the world. Set a fire to the manor. Break into the League of Assasin’s headquarters and let them kill him. For good this time. Crawl into the deepest darkest pit and die.
„Jason—„
„WHO DID THIS?!”
„It was—„
„I WANT A NAME!”
„We don’t-„
„I WANT THAT PERSON;S HEAD ON A STICK!”
No matter how hard Dick, Tim, Cass, Steph and Barbara tried to get to him (cause obviously Damian was just watching with curiosity), nothign worked.
„It was an accident.” Bruce muttered, finally joining the family allured by the screams.
„AN ACCIDENT?!”
„A car crash. She was just a pedestian, did nothing wrong. The driver was DUI.”
„SO WHAT?! YOU’RE A FUCKING BILLIONAIRE, YO COULDN’T HAVE PROVIDED HER WITH A GOOD FUCKING DOCTOR!?”
„She died instantly.”
„SHE—„ Jason’s voice broke, all the anger finally subsiding replaced by the pain. „She what- ?”
„I am sorry jason…”
„SHE WAS YOUR RESPONSIBLITY!”
„No, she was your resposibilty Jason. You were the one who befrended her, fell for her, brought her into this life. Should have known better.”
„SHUT UP!”
„She stayed here after you died instead of moving forward, unable to forget you.”
„SHUT THE FUCK UP!” it was impossible to listen to Bruce only fueling up the guilt and pain iside Jason’s heart.
„She—„
„Master Bruce.” Now Alfred came into the scene, preventing another blood bath that were bound to happen between a father and a son. ‘Perhaps we should give master Jason some space now. Miss Y/N’s death took a heavy toll on all of us, didn;t it?”
”Hm.”
„Come Jay. Upstairs.” Cass smiled at him to the best of her abilities „You need rest.”
Hazily he took a few steps forward but didn;t miss Bruce’s pained whisper and haunted expression.
„You’re not the only one who lost her…”
***
It’s been five years since then.
But now, as Jason was standing by her grave it all felt surreal.
Y/N Y/L/N, daughter, friend, prankster.
That last word was something she would laugh at.
But he was not.
Five years. The same amount he was gone, same amount for which she believed him to be dead, visiting his grave.
Did she feel all those feels he was dealing with right now?
Emptiness.
Numbness.
Anger.
And that pressuring what if-.
They could have been happy together. Working though their difficulties and becoming real. Maybe starting a family. Escaping all this shitty vigilantism life pushed them both into.
Destroying both of their lifes.
One cold six feet under, the other cold six feet inside.
„I miss you.” He whispered in the space, putting a buquet of flowers on the ground next to the ledger „You will forever be the one to haunt me.”
With that he turned around, walking away with head hung low and hands in the pockets of his jacket.
Getting back to his apartment.
In which she could have been with him if things were to work out differently.
part 2 : phantom
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imaginesheaven · 1 year ago
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National Anthem – F!Reader x Price (x little bit Valeria)
Summary: After Graves’ betrayal another villain appears on the screen for the Task Force. They are nothing like all the others before.
This is kind of inspired by the song National Anthem by Lana Del Rey. I wrote all of this down, but I’m actually not sure what to do with it, so enjoy this little piece of pure braindump. I’m also not sure if I like this at all, so I would really appreciate to know what you think about it :)
Warnings: MDNI – sexual talk; swearing; angst; mentions of death
Length: 2.7 k
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“Laswell, you look like you could use a drink”, Price sits down at the bar handing her a glass full of the best whiskey. “Thank you, John, but alcohol isn’t going to get rid our problems this time”, Kate takes a sip of her drink.
Her words make the whole Task Force kind of uncomfortable. Laswell is usually convinced that they can manage everything that the world throws at them, but this time she does have her doubts.
“At first, I thought we only have a usual Russian problem, but it turns out to be way bigger and more than just that”, she gets out two pictures from her jacket pocket to put them upside down onto the table, “There is no room to fail this time.” John exchanges a brief glance with his team, “Hit us, Kate.” As if there would be ever room to fail in their field of work.
“Alejandro contacted me a few hours ago fuming. Valeria got bailed out of jail with an amount of money we all only can dream about. I did a lot of digging to find out what the hell is going on. A woman paid the money to get Valeria back to her El Sin Nombre cartel. It was the same person, who overtook the Shadow Company after Graves’ got killed. This woman is going to be a big problem gathering herself the best army”, Laswell pushes one of the pictures towards John.
The Captain can feel his heart stop for a second as he turns the picture around just to find a very familiar face looking back at him. A thick coldness starts to spread in his chest; doom setting slowly in.
“Price?”, Gaz asks quite concerned about John’s silence. The Captain keeps staring as the seconds tick by. “Fuck”, it’s the only thing he says and hands the picture to Gaz. John literally prayed years ago to never see your oh so beautiful face ever again. His heart can’t get over the fact that you are still looking the same. The way you glance at the camera with a winning smirk makes his knees weak. You know that you were observed from afar and you did not give a single fuck about it.
“You know her?”, Kate can’t explain otherwise his reaction. Price nods his head in agreement, “(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). Met her once years ago. We had a mission together, but never saw her again after that.” He really hopes none of them can see through his lie. It was way more than just a mission. It was way more complicated than that.
Even after all this time John feels everything like it has been just yesterday. The way your hands have been roaming over his chest. So fucking close to him. Skin on skin. The way you felt amazing underneath him. As well as the way you broke his heart into thousand pieces. If there would be ever a regret he has to live through, it would be you.
Price doesn’t tell them a single thing about it. He will not go through every detail of his biggest mistake with his entire team. That’s something only between you and him for the rest of his life.
“So, she is military?”, Gaz asks as Soap hands the picture to Ghost. Neither of them can’t deny that you are absolutely breathtaking as much as you are deadly probably.
“Yes, (Y/N) worked for a special forces team in the American military. There is nothing much to know since almost everything is classified. Only a handful or so have the security rank to gather that information. The team included five members with the call signs X-1 to X-5, which sounds very nice, right? X-1 means Executer-1, so they called them actually Killer-1 to Killer-5. She is one of the best”, Laswell answers and pulls another picture out of her jacket.
John already knows that the picture will be you in your impressive completely black Executer-gear. He hates and loves this one so much. “No, Kate. (Y/N) is the best”, Price doesn’t say those words very lightly, but they are the truth. If you are going to be their enemy, it will be a fucking war.
“She took over the Shadow Company and the El Sin Nombre cartel? For what? What is her goal?”, Gaz can’t make the connections yet. Kate let’s out a deep sigh and turns around the last picture, “I think she is going for this man.”
The Captain shakes his head, “Makarov? (Y/N) is going for the big kill. If she can gather Russians, the Shadow Company and the El Sin Nombre cartel around her, we are all doomed. With that (Y/N) can take over every army and if that happens, she will go back to America getting her final revenge.”
“What do you know, John?”, Kate is almost kind of mad that she isn’t fully in the picture apparently like Price himself. “(Y/N) made a decision the military didn’t want to see. X-2 to X-5 were supposed to execute her. The members were named after their ranks, so (Y/N) was Executer 1 – the best of them. She killed every single one of her former teammates. The American Government classified everything to keep people from talking. (Y/N) escaped in the end, but all of that were rumors years ago. Everyone who told them got silenced. The military didn’t want to acknowledge her existence anymore. So, who really knows if that’s real or not”, Price knows exactly that everything he just told was real.
Neither of them dares to interrupt the silence thinking about the worst that could happen. Someone as power-driven and skilled as you will bring hell over those who did you wrong. What they don’t know is that you are halfway through your plan to conquer the world like you want it to.
A few hours earlier…
“Ah, Valeria. Nice to meet you in person finally. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). At your service”, you give the soldier your best smile to greet her properly. She raises one of her eyebrows still unsure about your intentions, “Why did you pay for my freedom?”
You mention towards the waiting car, “Let’s talk in the car. It’s way cooler in their and it would be only fair to bring you back to your cartel.” Valeria follows your invitation, “If you try to do something stupid I will kill you.” You can’t help yourself but laugh as you get in the car after her, “I really don’t doubt that for a second.”
“So, what’s the deal, hermosa?”, Valeria asks after taking a sip of the cool drink you gave her. You lean forward smiling knowing exactly how to expose your cleavage and use your body to get what you want. Valeria’s eyes follow just like you planned.
“Mi vida, I want your El Sin Nombre cartel to work with my Shadow Company. I am working towards a goal that is very important to me”, you explain to her leaving out a few important details. Valeria doesn’t ask but you could see the question in her eyes.
“Graves got … detained by me. His former soldiers are under my wings now. And well, there is no nice way to tell you this, but your people are also mine”, you keep on smiling knowing exactly she will understand the hidden threat.
“So, the rumors are true that you are gathering an army. They warned me about you, hermosa. Take my men if you need to. You paid for my freedom”, Valeria knows when she is in a situation without options. She is in your hands without any chance of an escape, better playing along for now.
“I’m really glad you took that so well. Graves wasn’t really cooperating”, you lean back taking a sip of your own drink. Valeria knows how to pick her fights and you are much more powerful than she thought.
“Well, the Gringo didn’t know how to handle dangerous women. Especially when they are as breathtaking as you are, mi vida”, Valeria holds up her glass to clink hers with yours. She can’t help herself but be enchanted by you.
You have already wrapped Graves around your little finger with your sex appeal until you took what was his. Now Valeria, next one will be Makarov. And you are pretty sure he will not resist you just like the others. Your plan is going wonderful. Now comes the fun part…
The ringing of his phone snaps Price out of his deep focus on working out a plan to bring you down before you can raise hell. No matter how many options his brain goes through it will never be good enough to keep up with your next steps.
“Captain Price”, he is only paying half attention to the caller on the other side of the line. “Hi, John”, your sweet voice rings in his ears over and over again. Price is not a man to get shocked easily, but right now his mind is absolutely blank. There are literally not words to form a proper sentence.
“Oh, I wish I could see your face right now. Happy to hear that I’m still alive?”, you can’t help yourself to let a heartfelt laugh, which brings John’s heartrate into a very dangerous zone. “Why are you calling?”, he tries to keep calm, but everything in him turns slowly into panic mode. It’s unusual for him. Only you can make him feel this way.
“Oi, don’t you know anymore how small talk works, muppet? How are you doing? What have you been up to the last decade? We really need to work on your manners, handsome”, you didn’t mean to sound it seductively, still you are not mad about it. You don’t have to be in the same room with John to know that you are still going under his skin with so much ease.
“John, humor me for a second. How have you been? Tell me a bit about your little Task Force”, your voice could play on repeat for eternity and John would still not get enough of it. In this moment he hated you so much for all the love he still has for you in his heart. But the two of you are a shadow of the past.
“You haven’t changed, so I’m pretty sure you know already everything about my team”, John will not give in. Not this time. “Yeah, but it would have been nice to hear it from you. Do you really think your Task Force is good enough to keep up with me? Are they ready to do whatever it needs to take down the devil herself?”, you have been watching him and his team for a while now; tracking their success as a team and still they will never be as good as you are.
“What happened to you? This isn’t you, (Y/N)”, John’s voice is only a whisper over the line. You don’t want to admit it, but you actually missed how sweet your name sounds when it comes over his lips. “Betrayal. So much betrayal that I finally found solace in power and revenge”, you reply replaying in your head what happened long ago.
“You killed innocent people… Children…”, John remembers how you stood right in front of him; trying to explain everything, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it. He knows now that you made the right decision back then. His younger self didn’t know it.
“You draw the line wherever you need it, Captain! Isn’t that something you like to tell your team? I did that, but what did I get for sacrificing so much? Nothing. The military sent my own team after me. You left me. I lost everything to save thousands of lives. But you know what? I will gain so much more for sacrificing those lives now. Revenge is best served cold”, once you get what you want, you will never have to defend yourself ever again, “John, we both know that villains are also human beings with a dramatic backstory. Just like the heroes.”
“You called just to tell me all of that?”, John can almost feel his heart bleeding; knowing he is part of the problem. He is one of the reasons you turned your back against humanity. “No, since we have quite the past together, I wanted to give you a change. I can be merciful, if I want to. You have 24 hours to find Makarov to stop me”, your voice transforms from being bitter to cheerful in a second.
“You already know where he is, eh?”, Price realizes that you are playing with him. You know exactly there would be no chance for him to win this battle. “Oh, of course. I would never go into a conversation like this without having plan beforehand, handsome. 24 hours, big boy. Time is ticking”, without a further word you end the call leaving John alone in a deafening silence. This is a fucking war neither John nor the Task Force can win.
Bonus:
“It’s over, (Y/N). Lay down your gun”, Price points his weapon at you as he makes his way towards you. A slight smile appears on your lips before you do what he says. Your little handgun compared to his gets put on the table right in front of you.
You can’t help yourself but admire how handsome he looks after all this time you have seen him. He is aging like a fine wine. For a moment you remember how young he had looked back when he still was a Lieutenant.
“Don’t worry, I’m not a sore loser”, you raise your hands so he can see them clearly. For once you are not a threat to him. Slowly you make your way around the table. He keeps his gun pointed at you, but still lets you come as close as possible. His eyes never leaving yours for a second.
“We all know it was your decision to lose. You had everything to bring hell upon us. So, why do you give up now?”, John’s finger ache to stroke your cheek softly; to feel your warmth against his skin once again. Your eyes bore into his; looking straight into his soul. “And we both know I can’t do anything against my weakness, John. You are still the only one I don’t want to hurt.”
Your words touch his soul; breathing back live into him. For a moment neither of you know what to say. Softly you push away his gun and he let it happen. The two of you are so damn close now almost breathing the same air.
“Do you still love me?”, John can hear the pain but also the hope in your voice. There is no need to deny the truth any longer. He can’t ignore anymore how his heart calls your name over and over again. How it has been doing that for the last few years.
“Yes, I always have and I always will…. I’m so sorry for everything”, he caresses your cheek with his hand and you lean into the touch; yearning for his attention for such a long time already. “It’s okay. I love you too, John…”, you reply letting your tears fall freely now.
“… But neither heroes nor villains get happy endings, handsome. Right person, wrong time. Maybe we will find each other in the next life again. Good bye, John”, you place a soft kiss on his lips. Both of you savoring this moment as long as possible.
A single shot rings through the silence, then a body hitting the ground. And that’s how this story ends.
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steviewashere · 9 months ago
Text
Terrifyingly Intense
Rating: General CW: Minor References to Sex, Steve Harrington's Self Worth Issues Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Arguing, Apologizing, Making Up, Steve Harrington has Self Esteem Issues, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Lover, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Happy Ending
For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is terrifying."
💕—————💕
Steve doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.
He’s pretty incapable of being normal about how he loves Eddie. From week two of their relationship, Steve was ready to get down on one knee and propose. Which is insane of him. They’ve been close friends since Eddie woke up in early April. And somewhere in there, Steve said the words all over again with true intent and intense feeling. Now it’s December and they’ve been together for less than a month. And Steve is driving himself up a wall.
But it makes him sick to his stomach.
Yeah, he said “I love you”, to Eddie. He’s said it out of fear in the hospital. Said it with hysteria in that field some weeks ago. But that doesn’t change the way Steve wants to say it again. In a sobering moment. When they’re doing something mundane. And he hasn’t disappointed anybody around him or nearly lost anybody to some third world grave danger.
He should know how to do this.
Yet, here he is in their little relationship—which, truly, feels too intense and big for human language—pulling himself away whenever Eddie wants to see him or talk to him or be with him.
Logically, he shouldn’t be doing something so stupid.
But—God—he’s so afraid. Afraid that Eddie will wake up one day, realize just how intense and lonely and nuts Steve is, and he’ll break off what they have. And then…Well, then Eddie won’t wanna be friends, he’ll stop hanging around, he’ll make up excuses to not have Hellfire in Steve’s dining room, he’ll do something crazy like unfriend all of them, he’ll get the fuck out of Hawkins, he’ll leave everything he’s ever known behind.
Yeah, Steve can’t be the cause of that.
So, he hides away. Keeps himself busy. Occupied, whatever. Hands never idle. Brain never quiet. Eyes never rested. And he stays away from Eddie.
——— By the second week of Steve’s little shenanigan, Eddie has caught on.
It’s obvious by the hurt that simmers in his eyes. His soft scowl. The lingering touches that used to make Steve’s skin light up with arousal, now fleeting. Just as fleeting as every other love anything Steve’s ever involved himself in. But he’s too afraid of whatever realization Eddie will make of him.
To be vulnerable, well that’s like death to Steve. He remembers one of the last times he did so. Sans Robin’s confession, because Steve doesn’t think he had an actual thing for her—he’s easily convinced, okay, and he’s also an extremely lonely person. But Nancy definitely left her mark on his self worth, that’s for certain. Bullshit bounces around his—what he thinks—empty skull. If he allows himself to love strongly, he’ll be bullshit eventually. If he forces himself to pull away, he’ll probably still be bullshit.
He won’t win either way.
And that’s apparent by the next time Eddie comes pounding on his front door. Very literally. His fist making the whole door shake.
Steve rips it open, ready to spit fire at whoever is there, but all words die on his tongue in the face of Eddie’s open anger. Eddie’s face is furrowed everywhere possible, his eyes are like lasers, skin red and redder as he looks at Steve.
“Hey, Eds,” Steve tries to coo.
“Cut the shit, Harrington,” Eddie growls back. He shoves his way past Steve. Stumbling into the foyer. It’s been raining and Eddie’s soaked, dripping water from his leather jacket onto the floor, but Steve is too stunned to do anything about it.
In fact, Steve’s stomach is lurching. His mouth filling with saliva. Ready to puke. He shuts the door behind himself, turning around to fully face Eddie. “What—uh—What’s wrong, babe?”
Eddie looks around the space. As if hunting for something. His eyes are sharp when he glares back. “You aren’t busy,” he spits, “you didn’t have a shift at work, I already asked Robin. And you very much so aren’t sick.” He crosses his arms over his chest. The squeak of his jacket loud between them. “When you’re sick, you’re miserable. Like a wet fucking cat. You make a whole ordeal of it. And I come to your rescue every time. Yet, you’re lying to me.” He steps closer into Steve’s space. Steve steps away, back slamming into the door. “Why are you lying to me?”
Steve shakes his head. “I’m not, Eds. I wouldn’t—“ He bunches his palms at his sides. They’re sweating. His stomach still heavy and twisting. Chest pulsing. “—I wouldn’t lie to you. I don’t know—“
“Then why are you pulling away?” Eddie is practically pleading for an answer. His voice goes pitchy. “I hardly see you anymore. You claim your busy or sick or whatever—But you never are!” He exclaims, his words echoing.
Finally, Steve finds his strength to move. Stepping around Eddie, speeding into the kitchen. Eddie is following him, his footfalls heavy and clumsy, chasing. He won’t give Eddie an answer because he’s not sure which words to even say.
“Sorry I’m pulling away, I love you too much.” That doesn’t even make any fucking sense. Steve never makes sense. This whole thing is starting to make him dumb.
He pulls open the fridge, sticking his head inside, acting as if he’s about to make food. His hands rummaging, digging through his things, knocking containers over, nearly breaking some glass condiment bottles. If he can just get Eddie to grow disinterested in this conversation, maybe he’ll leave and Steve can stew in his feelings, up until he actually knows what to say.
God, what is wrong with him?
“Talk to me, Steve,” Eddie is demanding. “Please just talk to me. Is it something I did? Did I hurt you the last time we had sex or something? Were you dissatisfied with the last date I took you on? Because I can think of a million other things to do, to take you to experience, if you would only talk to me!” He begins to shout. Steve flinches where his head is still buried. He’s always hated arguing, reminds him of his parents, if he’s being honest. But Eddie doesn’t know that. And he hasn’t taken notice. So he continues on, “Maybe you didn’t like the Christmas gift I got you? Is that it? What did I do? Please, Steve, please just—“
“I can’t!” Steve finally yells back, standing up ramrod straight, the fridge door quietly and gently closing behind him. He shifts on his feet, hands bunching at his sides once more. He shakes his head, the tears already prickling in his eyes. “You don’t want to know, okay? You’ll think it’s stupid or something and then I’ll feel worse and I—You can’t know.”
His eyes dart up to Eddie, When was I looking at the floor? And Eddie looks…Well, he looks damn unhappy about that answer. But also severely concerned. He chews at his lip, crossing his arms once more, popping his hip so that his body is leaning away from Steve. He sharply exhales. “If you cheated on me or something, you can just say that. And I’ll get out of your hair.”
“What?” Steve squeaks. “Why would you think that? I wouldn’t do that to somebody.”
“Then what’s wrong? That’s all I can possibly think of as to why you’re putting distance between us.”
He stiffens, swallowing. Sniffling. God, why is he about to cry? His breath stutters in his chest. Stomach churning and churning and flipping. “It’s because I—“ He hiccups a sigh. “It’s because I love you too much, okay?” He whispers. Steve can’t make his voice any louder than that. The shame at the admission coiling tight in his throat and chest. He crosses his own arms, fingers wrapping around his elbows, fingernails digging into his soft flesh. “Like so much, you’ll think I’m insane. And then you’ll get weirded out by me. And you’ll think I’m fucking with you or something and then you’ll just leave. Like everybody else has.”
Eddie softens. Arms dangling loose at his sides. He hesitantly gets closer to Steve. “Baby,” he’s softly cooing, “why would that make me not love you? All I want is to be loved by you.”
“I’m scared,” Steve confesses. “I’m scared you’ll hear me and you’ll see how much I love you and you’ll leave. Or you’ll…You’ll realize something that a lot of other people tend to realize—“ He takes a gasping breath, something salty landing on his tongue. Of course he’s crying. “You’ll just realize that I’m a bullshit person. That I’m too much and too intense and too enamored, or whatever. You’ll realize that I’m bullshit in the sense that I don’t know what to do in a crisis or when I need to make somebody happy. You’ll think I’m bullshitting you about every fucking thing. Because I—“ A sob leaves his chest. It’s got claws, it hurts on the exit.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie slowly raises his left palm and cups Steve’s right cheek. His other hand lands on Steve’s opposite bicep. He runs his hand up and down the arm in tender swipes. “Steve,” Eddie starts, his voice low and trapping—his words are almost congested. “Sweetheart, your feelings aren’t bullshit. You aren’t bullshit because you feel something. Especially something like love. You deserve to have that. And you deserve the possibility of reciprocating.”
“I love you so bad, Eddie,” Steve cries out. “It fucking terrifies me how much I do. And I—“ The sobs come easier now, rattling his whole body, crumpling him bit by bit. Eddie shuffles in and drags Steve to his chest. And over Eddie’s heart, Steve mutters, “I don’t know how to be normal.”
Eddie’s hand on his bicep moves to the back of Steve’s head. His other hand falling away to Steve’s shoulder. “I love you, too,” he murmurs. “It physically hurt to not have you near me. I thought that I fucked everything up, Stevie. I love you so much, it threatens to destroy me sometimes.”
Steve nuzzles in closer. Tentatively wrapping his arms around his middle. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Eddie whispers, “You don’t need to apologize. I understand, it’s alright.” He presses a chaste kiss to Steve’s head. His lips lingering. “Besides, I’m the most abnormal person fucking ever, sweetheart. Your love won’t chase me away. Never ever. You never have to be scared about loving me too much. I welcome it.”
“Okay,” Steve mutters, “I’m still sorry.”
Eddie sighs. “I know, love bug,” he whispers. “I know you are.” He moves his arm to wrap around Steve’s own torso, swiping his hand in one long, soothing stripe over his spine. Another kiss, this time to Steve’s temple. “Let’s order some pizza or something, alright? We’ll cuddle on the couch and calm down. I’m sorry for yelling at you. Sorry for assuming the worst. I just love you so much and I know you love me, too—I couldn’t come up with a single reason why you’d stop.”
“I don’t think I can stop, which is also scary. But—Like a good fear? It gives me adrenaline.”
Eddie’s chest vibrates with his laughter. Bright in the otherwise gloomy and dark place Steve’s found himself in. “Don’t you ever stop,” he demands. “I want your love all the time. I’ll tell you if something bugs me, alright? Don’t go assuming. Because I love you, Stevie. I love you so much.”
Steve pulls back, face pointed up at Eddie’s. He matches his soft smile. “I love you, too. Let’s get some pepperoni pizza, though. Because I am fucking hungry.” He squeezes his arms around Eddie. “Hungry for you, too.” And he saunters away.
In return, he hears Eddie shout after him, “You better make do on that! I missed you too much for you to tease me!”
Maybe he should learn to just trust his gut. To just admit what he’s feeling. Because it seems, if he’s honest about it the first time, good things happen in return.
💕—————💕 Gotta be honest, this isn't my best work. I've been feeling pretty mucky recently and nearly didn't have the energy to write. But I think this suffices.
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spacedace · 1 year ago
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Something that I keep thinking about that I've not seen be mentioned in the DP fandom is the fact that Dani/Elle had brothers before Danny.
Angst ahead (I'm in an angsty mood lol)
I don't know if I've just missed it or not, but I just keep thinking about how for a while, it was just Elle and the other clones. That with Vlad being Vlad they probably really only had each other. And Elle being stable while the others weren't implies that she was the youngest of them all.
Did the others look after her? Did they play with her and try and teach her ghost stuff even though they weren't very good at it? Did she curl up with the big Frankenstein Clone to sleep at night, did the Skeleton Clone start wearing the bed sheet originally because he was worried about scaring his little sister? Did the Gooey Clone that could change sized play hide and seek with her to keep her entertained?
There's a level of implication that she didn't know that the other Clones were actually gone gone after they fought Danny when he told her that he wouldn't fight her because when he did fight the clones they destabilized. And I can't help but think it's something that would haunt her, realizing that not only were her brothers were gone, but she helped destroy one of them.
I don't know I just feel like it's a piece of Elle's backstory that isn't brought up, both for family fluffy and angst purposes.
Gimme some fics of Elle and Danny talking about her brothers, their shared grief and regret over everything. Danny trying to help make it up to her or Elle admitting that as much as she loves Danny she still sometimes finds herself looking at him and knowing that he's the one that killed her brothers, even though he didn't mean to.
Give me Elle making graves for her brothers and mourning them with her new family, never forgetting them but slowly learning how to accept their deaths. Or of her going full Tim Drake and trying to clone them to get them back even though she knows it won't be the same (give me a DP x DC crossover with her & Tim feeding off each others grief spirals and helping each other in their unhealthy cloning coping methods or Elle stepping in to stop Tim because she's been there and done that and knows it doesn't do anything but prolong the pain).
Or something happy! Elle goes off and explores the multiverse and discovers worlds were her brothers lived! Or where she was the one that didn't make it in their world but they did and she's able to stabilize them and bring them home! Or an AU where the clones live and run off with Elle to see the world and she comes back to Amity Park sooner because while she's getting weaker her brothers are fully on the verge of destabilizing and she needs Danny's help to save them!
I just have a lot of thoughts on the untapped potential of the other clones and Elle's relationships to them.
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