#he had nothing but brainwashing and abuse and he still knew what the right thing was and chose that

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: Sundown

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Ben shows his true colors

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: Oh my god the violence. Violent is here. Im so sorry.

4.4k words

"I can picture every move that a man could make Getting lost in her loving is your first mistake Sundown, you better take care If I find you been creeping 'round my back stairs Sometimes I think it's a sin When I feel like I'm winning, when I'm losing again" ~Sundown, Gordon Lightfoot

Rey always had a way of making things better.

You were sat on the kitchen counter in a loose tank top and baggy shorts that may or may not be Will’s boxers, watching Ray cook for you an Iris. She’d been feeling unwell this morning, no doubt the stress of everything that happened the last few weeks getting to her normally impenetrable facade. You found out she caught the tail end of what Will did to Jonah. Now both of you had watched your fathers die.

But Rey had been emotional support to both of you. You leaned more on your husbands, but Rey gave a sense of normalcy. He was a lot like Ben, making it so you could let go of the guilt that plagued you constantly, clearing your mind of the swirling thoughts of Beatriz and Santiago’s true natures.

Will was safe. Protective and gentle and strong, he continued to dot on you, massaging vitamin c oil into your scars to reduce them now that they could take a little bit of pressure. Your healer, your guardian. You thanked him profusely for protecting you against Jonah’s attempt to rape you, even if parts of you still wished he wasn’t dead.

Francisco was who you were the most honest with. You could tell him how you felt about Santiago and Beatriz, work out your confusing thoughts in soft whispers when you were with only him. Santiago never let Francisco sleep with you anymore at night.  

Walking past you to open the oven, he gave your hand a squeeze, lingering a bit. There was nothing romantic or sexual about it; he just wanted you to feel better. To know he was there. He was better than this place, you knew now. Better than this world.

“Madonna! There you are!” Ben rushes in with Will behind him, reaching for you. “Christ! I was worried!”

You’re a bit shocked, but can’t help sliding into his arms. “What do you mean? I’m right here…”

Ben holds you close, your body pressed against his, skin to skin making you cringe. It wasn’t him, it was the idea of touch lately at all. 

Will clarified. “You said you were going to be in the garden, we were worried when we didn’t see you.”

You try to squirm out of Ben’s arms. His grip is hard and uncomfortable… he’s too close. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just- ow, Ben- I didn’t think I needed to let you know? I never did before… Ben, please-” He’s kissing you now, your cheek, your neck, your lips… you don’t want Rey and Iris to see you like this… You hear Iris say something, but can’t quite make it out.

“That was before. With everything that’s happened, Jonah, the assasination attempt, we need to know where you are, always.” You didn’t like him talking about Jonah in front of Iris. You didn’t like him talking about Jonah in general. You squirm and try to dodge his kisses.

He rubs against the deepest burn on your belly, making you whimper, trying to push him away. Memories of Jonah’s attack flash in your hands, and suddenly he’s pulled off you. You think for a moment it’s Will, but you see Ben’s blonde hair fisted in Iris’s hand.

“She said stop!” Iris yanks him away and horror drops in your stomach. Ben wouldn’t hurt her, no, you didn’t need to worry, Ben was loving, fun, sunshine- He swung, clocking Iris on the jaw.

What happened next was a blur. Reyansh was on Ben is a second, a rage you’d never seen from your sweet guard before, and the two rays of sunshine throwing hands. Reyansh is slammed against the wall and you shout, wanting to run to him but before you even move Will’s hand is on your wrist. You watch two men you love beating on each other, Rey kneeing Ben in the balls and throwing him to the ground where he momentarily had the advantage. Ben, however, gripped Rey’s hair and used the momentum to roll their bodies over so Ben was on top. You’d seen Ben use the same move during sex. 

“WILL! DO SOMETHING!” You scream, watching them hurt each other but Ben with the clear advantage. Still, all he does is hold you back, fingers stroking your hair in an attempt to placate you, but you can’t stand by… still, you can’t get in the middle of a bloody fist fight, especially after watching Jonah die… why couldn’t Will step in when he clearly had the strength to? Ben has the upper hand, and looks like he’s close to killing rey the way Jonah died.

You see Iris make a move to get Ben off him, and Francisco who was previously frozen in shock runs to her. She tried to get out of his grasp, but he simply pushes her away and tackles Ben down. Francisco uses his weight to pin him, using a soothing voice to try and calm the fit. You yank your hand, hand, releasing it from Will’s grasp and painfully pulling on the burnt skin but you needed to get to Rey. Iris pulls his head on her lap, and he spits out some blood onto her dress but gives his girl a weak smile.

“You alright, my love?” He asks her, despite you cleaning blood off his face and her seeming unharmed.

She chuckles, crying but gives him a smile as well. “I’m alright, baby. I’m alright.”

Will is standing above you. You see Ben and Francisco are rising now, Frankie still holding Ben.

“What the hell was that, Saha!”

Rey doesn’t dignify Will with an answer, but you turn to him, giving a little bite to your tone. 

“He was defending his girl, Will. You’d done the same for me.”

���Madonna…” He warning in a stern voice, one that made you feel like a child being admonished by a house mother again. “He is a guardsmen, sworn to protect us, not throw punch-”

You looked up at him again, snapping. “He hit Iris!”

Ben chimed in with a ‘She hurt me first!’ but Will ignored him. “She involved herself in something she had no business to.”

“But Ben!-” You were cut off my Iris whispering your name. Her eyes were fearful… and you realize they held the same glint as when you caught her and Ben together… She mouthed, ‘don’t.’

Your eyes never leave hers. “Well, she’s my friend and he’s my personal guard so she’s under my protection.”

Fracicsco’s arms pull you, careful not to touch your sensitive parts. He’s telling you to go, but you worry for Rey and Iris.

“Will, you can’t hurt them, please?”

“I’m not-”

“But you are!” You pull at Francisco’s hand. “You are, because they hurt Ben but please! Don’t!”

Will sighs, shoulders relaxing down as he decides not to lie. “Madonna, they have to be punished. I promise it won’t be harsh.” His blue eyes look remorseful and honest, like he’s resigned to his duties. You trust he wouldn’t be unnecessarily cruel and you knew punishment was important in corrections… but this was Rey and Iris, your friends… Rey, who had only ever loved and protected you. Iris, despite everything, she took care of you. 

This time when you pull your arm Francisco lets go, and you rush to Will. You reach for his face, cupping it as you stare into his eyes. Will’s expression was soft, indulgent. He was listening. “Look at him, Will.” You gesture to where Reyansh still bloodied Iris’s skirts. “They both got hit, and Rey took enough for both, don’t you think?”

He seemed sympathetic to the pain Rey was in. “That’s the natural consequence of a fight, Madonna. I need to punish them properly, according to our rules.”

Tears fill your eyes and you hear Ben grumble, Francisco shushing him. “My husband, my love…” You beg him in choked words. You try to appeal to his sense of ownership over Rey and the guards. “He’s your guard, and someone hurt him… can’t we just call it even? Please?”

“No, Madonna.”

Rey coughs from the ground below you, trying to sit up. “I can take it, Will. Just don’t hurt Iris.”

With that, Will’s face shifts. This pulls at something and you take it. “He was just trying to protect her! You’d do the same if anyone hit me, Will, please you killed a man for me, you killed Melanie for me, I know you understand…” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles that were still healing for beating Jonah to death. “Please… there's been so much pain here this week… I promise, I promise they learned.”

Ben must've seen Will considering, because he spoke. “Don’t let them get away with it, that bitch put her hands on me!”

His language shocked you, never hearing him talk like that, and Francisco saw the look in your eyes. “Will, c’mon… I think his nose is broken… and Iris just lost her dad… Madonna is under a lot of stress, don’t give her more.”

Finally, Will sighs despite Ben’s protests. He walks over to where Iris and Rey sit and helps them both up. “Go.” He says to Iris. “You can use my medicine closet. Patch him up. I expect him back on duty tonight.”

“Will! What the hell!” Ben shouts but you run up to Will, giving him a short peck on the cheek and whispering thank you.

Will tells Ben to fuck off, and goes to unlock his medicine for Reyansh. Iris turns and gives you a smile. 

“You just like to touch everyone but me, don’t you?” Ben’s words shock you back to reality.

“What? Ben… it’s not…” You reach for Francisco’s hand for security as he admonishes Ben, but he continues.

“You kiss Will, and I see you holding Saha’s hand, and now Frankie? But don’t think I’ve noticed you havn’t fucked me!”

“Benjamin!” Francisco shouts as you shrink at Ben’s words. He’s never spoken to you like this, and you don’t think you’ve ever even seen him angry, certainly not at you. “She’s had a traumatic months for fucks sake! Between Santi and Jonah can you go without pussy for a few fucking days?”

“I don’t know Frank, can you go without Santi’s dick in your ass for more than a few days?”

For the next several minutes, the two argued, exchanging heated words and painful secrets. You’d learned Francisco fucks Santiago every night, and the dark spots on his neck were from the husband who’d burned you alive. You learned Ben was sleeping with half of delta still. You learned there was a whole word that existed between the four of them that not only happened before you, but existed outside of you. You thought you were the nucleus holding them together. Instead, you were just the meal they feasted on.

*

You were finally well enough for him to take you on the horse, a careful walk, out to your meadows again. By now, you were too big to straddle him with his cock inside you and your skin and belly couldn’t bear his body against you. So, as you watched him set up the blanket, you knew you’d miss the feeling of napping in the warm sun with his cock stretching you.

“C’mere, baby.” Francisco helps you sit and then lay down, pulling you close with you using his meaty arm as a pillow.

“I miss you.” You mutter, and he kisses your neck.

His hand holds your stomach, feeling your baby kick. “I’m right here”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.”

There was silence for a moment, letting the birds sing and breeze below through the rustling grass. It was so nice out, and you were thankful for your skimpy dress. You are reminded of all the times you laid here, endless hours making him flower crowns, braiding the little ones into his hair, kissing him, napping… all while he’s stuffed inside you, your skirt spread around your thighs. How many times has Jonah seen you like this? Had he watched from the trees as you fucked in languid strokes, not even trying to cum but just to feel him bucking into you? 

Or when Santiago had tripped you, burning your cothes off, fucking you by the fire… had Jonah stood and watched? Had he taken in the view, his own pornography, before helping you? Or when Francisco finger fucked you on the horse, had he savored your sweet sounds and memorized them for nights alone with his fist? How long had he wanted you? How long had he taken even innocent moments and turned them into something vile? 

You felt Francisco’s hard cock nestled between your ass cheeks, and by instinct you scoot away just a tiny bit.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry Madonna I’m not trying too- I don’t know why-”

“It’s okay.” No one had been inside you since Jonah’s attempt, you barely let them touch you… but you had to trust Francisco, right? He was good. He was so, so good. “It’s… it’s okay…”

The feeling of him shaking his head russells your hair. “No, no love, it’s not…” He’s pulling back from you and you miss the warmth of his body so you reach back and grab him. 

“I miss you…” You choke out. “I miss feeling you inside me… I miss you… please? I want you so bad, Francisco.”

“Baby…” He caresses you cheek with the back of his hand. “You’ve been through a lot…”

“And I don’t want it to change us. Santiago, Jonah… I won’t let them tear us apart…”

He kisses the back of your head. “They won’t. I won’t ever let that happen. You are more important than them.”

It slips out before you can stop. “Am I more important than Ben?”

“I love you.”

You don’t have it in you to press further, instead you arch your back so that your ass brushes against his cock in his pants. “So much has happened… I need this… I need to know you still love me.”

He sighs, stating firmly. “I do love you…” but he moved to unbuckle his pants. You wished you could see him, you wished you could see the way his belly folded over his jeans. You wished you could run your hands over the skin and feel the hair on his chest. But you weren’t ready for that. Instead you just relaxed into his arms, relaxed into him, his safety, his protection. When he pushes your skirt up, his hands are large over your asscheeks and you enjoy feeling covered by him. When he slides in, your body makes room for the familiar feeling.

“Do you want me to make love to you? Or do you just want me inside?”

“Make love, please…”

A gentle kiss on the cheek. “Anything for you.”

*

Sliding inside you once again, Frankie felt a homecoming. He loved the long hours you and him would spend here, cumming inside you multiple times but keeping you plugged up with his cum. He wished he hadn’t wasted so much time getting inside you properly, loving you the way you wanted to… he would have knocked you up first if he’d been going at this rate… but now, the odds weren’t in his favor.

Frankie revelled in the sound of your mewling, soft and tender like a little kitten… his to protect. As he slowly thrust into you, he vowed he wouldn’t let anyon hurt you again. He needed to talk to Ben, to Will… he needed them to get on board. You clearly cared for Iris and Rey and they cared for you, so he needed to make sure they were protected. Ben had been sneaking out more, going into the community to presumably fuck some other young niave thing… but a rule had been laid about Iris. The fact she was fucking him had been out of her character anyway, but it was over now.

Ben needed to stop sleeping with everyone he could get his hands on, and he needed to respect Madonna’s personal space and boundaries. He was not entitled to her body, especially after all this happened.

Looking up the hill and into the trees, Francisco saw Ben. He stood tall, a scowl on his face; he didn’t like that he got to be inside you.

Francisco sped up his movements, fucking up into you and making you cry out in pleasure. You were unaware of your audience. He never let up eye contact as he rammed his cock into your core and pressed you close to him. His hands felt you up, showing Ben what he was missing. Sitting atop his horse, Francisco watched as Benjamin pulled out his dick and began stroking himself furiously. It was a scramble after that, Frankie wanting you to cum before Ben did, to ruin his little show but still show off what Frankie could do, the sounds you could make. 

“Francisco…” You whine, and he buries his face in your neck after checking your eyes were still closed, lost in pleasure.

“I’m right here, Madonna. Always right here…” His longer fingers swirled your clit, and he knew you were close by the way you were clenching down hard. Perfect, you were perfect. Your body shook in his arms as he filled you, the sweet sounds of your orgasm echoing through the meadow valleys and hills and up to Ben’s ears. Francisco didn’t see if he came; he didn’t care anymore. He needed to take care of his Madonna, for suddenly you were crying.

“I wish it was you.” You sob into his sleeved up arm. He was thankful today didn’t require undressing. He didn’t want to have to explain the cuts. 

“What do you-”

“The baby! I wish it was yours!”

He brushes a stray lock out of your face as he attempts to sooth you. “May it is… we don’t know…”

“It’s not.” You shake your head. “It’s Will or Bens. I just know it. Those first months, you barely touched me, and after I fail the first time Santiago only touched me once a night!” The way you had switched from Pope to Santiago was not lost on him. “It’s one of them!”

“Is that a bad thing? They’ll love that baby too, just like I will.”

“SANTIAGO WILL KILL ME!”

You explained yourself then, what Santi said. How he threatened you. You had one job, according to him, and that was to get pregnant. It wasn’t suppossed to matter if it was by the Millers, by Santi or himself… but of course, of course Santi had to fuck with you more, because it isn’t really about the savior for Santi.

It’s about Frankie.

*

It had been a few days and Rey’s face looked awful. He had definitely broken his nose, bruising showing deeply despite his brown skin. 

“I’m fine, swear to the gods.” He promises after catching you staring at his face. 

“Your eye is almost swollen shut.”

“Like I said, totally fine.” he jokes and you give him a little kick from where you sat on the counter. Iris was feeling sick so Rey and you were taking over cooking dinner. The pineapple upside down cake was in the oven, and Rey was working on the main dish right now. 

He watched you watching him, hesitating before he spoke, his tone more sololm than you were used to. “If you could leave… would you?” He watches your eyes go wide, so he rushed to explain more. “You’re pregnant with the savior, there's nothing that says he needs to be raised here! You told me yourself, Beatriz was evil, Santi… sweetie c’mon he threatened you if the baby is blonde! What if he kills the savior when they are born?”

“Rey!” You whisper harshly. “You’re talking heresy!” Your eyes are wide.

He chuckles tiredly. “We crossed that line a while ago… Listen… I know you love that baby, I know you want them to grow up safe and happy but that can’t be here. You’re husbands, they are batship insane and you know it.”

“No.” You shake your head, refusing to accept it. “No, it’s just… Santi, I think he needs help… I can help him, I can make him a better-”

Reyansh grips your shoulders now, an intensity you weren’t expecting. “No! You can’t! It's not just you, you have to realize that. He didn’t hurt you because you did anything wrong. You take off Frankie’s shirt right now and you’ll see a fucking masscure because he’s fucking losing it! He’s dangerous! And Ben, he-”

 Reyansh stops, voice cracking and you notice the wetness of his eyes. The pain is etched into every line on his young face. “He rapes my wife. My beautiful, precious wife- he… and I didn’t know, this whole time I had no idea what he’s been doing to her…” You can see he’s crying now, and you’re frozen in fear, reaching for his wet face. “I just let it happen this whole time but now I know the truth, and it’s not happening again and I can’t bear to see you get hurt again. I’m gonna get her out, and I want you to come. I don’t want to leave you here but… I have to protect my family. I want that family to mean you too, anuja.”

There was so much to process here, your mind was whirling from everything you were told, but the idea of Iris and Ben… Did you walk in on her being raped by your husband? Had Ben truly tried to get you in on it, to kiss and touch her while she was raped? To make you an accomplice in his crimes? You think of how she looked at you… fuck, how could you not see it? How did you think she was willingly a part of it when it was clear she loved Reyansh? And you treated her so horrible after…

“I’m gonna be sick.” 

Your head spins, and Rey wraps his arms around to set your feet on the floor again. The hand that gently touched his wet, bearded cheek now was on his shoulder to steady yourself as he slid you down from the counter. His arms firm but chaste around you as he pressed against the marble.

“Hey take a deep breath-” His face was ripped away from you, eyes wide as Rey was pulled back by his hair. Then, before you can react, his already bruised head is slammed into the corner of the countertop.

He begins screaming and you do too. 

You can see Santiago in the doorway, but he makes no attempt to stop the events unfolding in front of you, does nothing as Ben grabs the kitchen knife and throws it directly into Reyansh’s chest where he lay in agony. The scene has begun to garner a crowd, Frankie running in at the sounds of your screams but freezes in shock as blood files the kitchen once again.

“BEN! STOP!!!” You scream, but Ben’s eyes are crazed and he’s screaming at Rey not to touch you.

You aren’t sure the exact moment his eyes go dead and body falls limp, no longer reacting to the mass of stabs Ben continues to inflict, but you know it’s already too late when Iris bursts in, screaming her lover’s name. When she runs to where Ben is slowing down, straddling over your best friend’s dead body, Francisco reacts quickly, scooping her up and grabbing Iris’s arms behind her back. 

“REY! REY! REY!” Iris screams non stop, fighting to get out of Francisco’s grasp as he tells her it’s too dangerous. 

Finally, Ben falls over, panting in exhaustion. He throws up on the floor and you realize he’s drunk. The smells of vomit mixes with copper in the the room as the fluids run together. You are barely standing, knees weak, palms sweaty, unable to process what you’ve seen as Ben stands up and stumbles towards you. Will is in the room now, taking it all in, muttering ‘jesus christ Benny… what did you do…’

But walks towards you, a bright smile of white teeth a strange flash of color among the red covering his face. Red. He’s covered in Reyansh’s blood.

“Hey baby, wanna give me a kiss?”

Ben is pulled away from you.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Francisco screams to him and you slide to the ground.

“He was touching her!” Ben tries to defend, but francisco is infuriated. He shoved Ben away, moving him to the door. On the ground, Iris is desperately trying to get Rey to come alive. The shakes, the touches to his face, the wretched sobs and ugly cries do nothing as he lays limp in her arms.

“FUCK YOU BENNY! HE WAS HER FRIEND! HE WAS MINE!” Francisco shoves him hard, making Ben stumble into Santiago.

Will steps up, gathering his fist in Francisco’s shirt. “Hey! Keep your fucking hands off him!” In which Santiago steps in and says something similar to Will. They begin to argue and fight and scream at each other; you are left on the floor, inconsequential. When you have the courage to look at Rey’s mangled corpse again, you gather the courage to crawl to him. Up close, the carnage in unbelievable.

There are massive gashes in him, holes in his body you can’t believe he had the strength and rage to go that hard into so many times. A stabwound in his eye.  A hole in his cheek.

“Rey…” You sob, reaching out for your bloodied friend. The door shuts behind you and you aren’t sure whose left. “Im so sorry, I’m so, so-”

Iris shoves you backwards, forcing you to fall softly on your butt. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” She screams at you, and you sit in shock. She’s never spoken to you like this.

“Iris-”

“I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE DANGEROUS TERRITORY!”

Francisco’s arms are around you, a feeling you’d recognize instantly. “I D-didn’t- I did mean-”

“You NEVER DO!” Her eyes are vicious, a fury that far surpassed anything you’ve ever seen in your life. “You are so goddamn stupid, walzing around here like you live in  FUCKING FARIE TALE and leave a trail of dead bodies behind you! You dad, Jonah, and now YOU HAD TO GET MY REY KILLED!”

You are speechless. She’s right. Everything is your fault. Jonah said your dad just wanted a better life for you… was that drive the reason the uprising started? Was the death of him, Deacon Tom, Delilah and all the rebels your fault? She had said she didn’t blame you for Jonah… but now her voice joins the chores of everyone else in your life… it was all your fault.

Francisco picks you up.

I'm so sorry

Months and months ago while constructing this story, I had a friend i was working on it a lot with. She had a big hand in creating Iris and Rey. The entire time, before it was entirely planned out even, I knew he was going to die. I knew there was no happy ending to be had for Iris and Reyansh. And that made some scenes very hard too write. Rey didn't deserve any of it. He was a good man who loved his "wife." (not legally married bc cult stuff but in all the ways that matter, they were.)

There is no going back from this now. Madonna is shown who Ben and Santi are.

The last poll i fucked up! It was suppossed to be who does BEN love most lol

Save the children (which has absolutely nothing to do with QAnon who hijacked their hashtag) our currently supporting relief efforts in the Congo above our listed some quick facts that I hope you’ll take a moment to read, and if you can afford it, please consider making a donation. I have made a small one, but if we band together small donations make a difference

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LOVE YOU ALL!

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[jasntodds]

Petrichor [18]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 9,775

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon character death, blood, canon violence, mention of previous abuse, mention of drug use, mention of drug addiction, mention of canon gore, kind of a mention of alcoholism

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I can't believe I've had to type out canon character death 4 times for this series lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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You and Gar are seated on the floor facing each other while Rachel went out to get you some supplies. You're trying to wrap your head around how you're supposed to function around the city and take down Crane when the entire city wants your heads on spikes. The GCPD has always been weird about Batman but now they actually want all of the Titans taken down and with Crane behind it, that can't mean just throwing you all in cells and tossing away the key. You can't just go out and fight every civilian that hates you now. They're brainwashed because that's what Crane does and fighting people who have no clue what they're doing isn't going to help your situation. It feels more like you're all sitting ducks at this point.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Gar asks, breaking the silence between you, earning an eyebrow raise from you. "How Jason came back."

Your eyes narrow slightly, unsure how or why it would bother you. Him being alive is a good thing. "Why would it bother me?"

"I mean the Lazarus Pit." Gar states as he leans forward. "Like, he came back and that's just it? Some water somewhere is magic and can bring people back from the dead. That doesn't make sense."

You nod your head slowly, this is the same thing he told you at the manor when he showed you some of the books Bruce had on it. "Yeah, we went over that. It's because of Ra's which I think makes a lot of sense, honestly. It's still bothering you that much?"

"Yeah, like why doesn't anyone know where it is? Or what if they do but it's a secret. Bruce knew, right? Why didn't Bruce close it off like the others? Why did he keep the one in Gotham open?" Gar rambles off his questions.

Of all topics that's going to pick at Gar, this is it? The Lazarus Pit? You're bothered by it, too but not enough to be sitting here thinking about it when you're worried the Titans are going to be hunted for sport now. You've been separated and you're going to need each other but Gar doesn't seem bothered by it at all. Just the Lazarus Pit.

You blink at him a few times. "I've been trying to rationalize the decisions Bruce makes but I think that's more of a dead end than anything else. If anyone is going to have that answer outside of Bruce, it'd probably be Jason or Dick. But, they don't really get him either. I don't know." You shrug your shoulders. "Bruce is paranoid, maybe that's all there is to it. Couldn't explain why no one else knows..."

"Yeah, he's paranoid!" Gar groans. "So why leave it open?"

"No, I mean that's probably why. Or research." You let out a breath. "Maybe he's worried something will happen if he closes all of them off. Or he needs it to do more research. I don't know." You scoff. "I don't know how he feels about resurrection so maybe he wants to use it to help people or something I have no fucking idea, Gar. I think you'll drive yourself insane if you try to rationalize Bruce Wayne." You lean back on your hands, stretching out your legs.

"Maybe more people know about it." Gar says quietly. "If Crane knew..." Gar trails off as his eyes grow worried.

Without him finishing, you know exactly what he's thinking.

"Yeah, thought of that." You nod your head, your heart skipping a beat.

If Crane knew and his guy knew, more people know. They have to. Gotham is a big city so anyone can stumble upon it. People talk, it's what they do. It can't be that big of a secret. The question is who knows about it. If Crane knows, more Arkham inmates might know. More people who are crooked might know. There have been some really bad people who've been killed. If Jason can come back, so can they.

"We have to find it." Gar states.

"Why?" You ask flatly, tired of the circles you've been running.

"So we can do something about it." Gar says sternly.

"Like what?" Your voice raises.

Considering Crane is literally taking over the city, poisoning the water, and still might be wanting to distribute his drug, you think your hands a little bit full at the moment. Why go messing with something like a Lazarus Pit? That just sounds like a bad idea. Doing research into it is fine but the way you see it, it's probably best to leave well enough alone. Maybe you all should tackle one problem at a time and the Lazarus Pit doesn't seem to be a problem right now.

"I don't know! But maybe we can understand more about it and...use it for good. Or close it off so people like..." Gar's voice trails off as his eyes dodge yours. "The Joker don't get brought back."

"We should leave it alone." You urge, not missing a beat. "That's...that's Bruce and Ra's' business and Jason filled me in on the whole League Of Assassins and the Al Ghuls and I don't want to fuck with them."

"Since when are you on Bruce's side?" Gar scoffs in disbelief. The you he knows would love to do anything to get one over on Bruce, to show him up, prove he's wrong. Or just spite him in general. "He left. He left Dick to clean up his mess."

"I'm not on Buce's side." You grit your teeth. "I don't know why I have to be on anyone's side besides my own, by the way. Look, he's been doing the Batman shit a long fucking time and his methods don't always work but there has to be a reason the pit was left open." You pause for a few seconds before you shake your head. "It brought Jason back. It's not up to us to close it or do something with it."

The room falls silent with your final words. A lot of really bad people can be brought back and that is obviously a big concern. And you disagree with Bruce like you get paid for it but you know if that, of all things, was left open there is a reason for it. It brought Jason back. The way you see it, it can't be up to you and Gar to do anything about it. The Lazarus Pit isn't a battle and it's not up for Gar and you to make it into one. That's Bruce, Ra's' and Jason's business now.

"I got everything." Rachel states as she walks into the room, gaining Gar's and yours attention. The two of you get to your feet as Gar takes the bag from Rachel. "So, this happened last night? With the GCPD?" Rachel asks as Gar looks through the bag and pulls out a box of Cheeze Its.

"Yeah." You nod. "We, uh, we were set up. Dick and Babs had a plan to get the public off our backs but uh, Crane has basically the rest of the department on his payroll now so, uh, yeah." You nod your head as you look to the ground. Gar nudges you softly, offering you the bag. You look inside, seeing clothes. "Thank you." Your eyes widen at Rachel as you nod your head but before you can go to change, all of your phones start blaring an alarm.

The three of you pull out your phones, hoping this means cell towers are back up and running but you can never get so lucky. Instead, Jason wearing the Red Hood suit appears on your screens. Sam's heart falls to her feet. This is never good.

"Hello Gotham!" Jason cheers. "It's Red Hood coming to you live from the most exclusive spot in town: The Batcave. For too long, this city has been at the mercy of criminals and I'm not just talking about the Penguin and the Riddler and The Joker. I'm talking about the ones who pretend to help but only make things worse. First Batman and now the Titans. Hypocrites who feed off of your terror and pursuit of glory and they turn Gotham into a city of carnage. But it all comes to an end today. There's a new savior in town. First thing I'm going to do is burn the trash. You hear me, Nightwing? You're public enemy numero uno. But not for long, meet me at midnight. You know the place. It's time for us to finish this." Jason finishes before the screens go black.

You can feel the headache coming back. What the fuck?

"Okay, what the hell was that about?" Gar asks, looking to you.

Just last night Jason got you both to safety, took out the snipers. Gar might have been a bit out of it but he remembers that pretty vividly. Now, Jason is back with Crane?

"I literally have no fucking idea." You let out a groan, stuffing your phone back into the pocket of your suit.

"I thought he was on our side?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah." Gar raises his brows. "Isn't he supposed to be?"

"He is!" You immediately defend, desperately grabbing for an ounce of faith and reason Jason might have. "I don't know what he's doing. Maybe..." You pull in a breath, trying to figure out why he'd be acting like he's trying to target the Titans. If it were you, it'd be an act, a ploy to play both sides. "Maybe it's to meet up with Dick? I don't know. I mean, he has to make the public think he's with them and not us. He has to play along with Crane or he's dead again. And Crane clearly has access to the towers so it's not like Jason can just...call Dick. Crane might know." You nod your head, mostly just blurting out whatever bullshit you could come with on the spot.

"That's not reassuring." Gar remarks. "How do we know he's not working with Crane again?" Gar asks and he wants to hold onto hope that's not the case but after everything, even he's starting to be chiseled down into a calloused version of himself.

"We don't." You state, holding your head steady, careful not to waver. "We don't know. I don't think he would but it's always possible Crane drugged him again, I guess." You roll your eyes before you roll your shoulders. "Okay, I'm gonna go find Dick."

"No!" Gar protests. "They're going to try to kill you if you go out there. We need to stay hidden until we think of a plan."

"Yeah, I'm with Gar on this one." Rachel states, glancing between the two of you.

"I know this city like the back of my hand. I can find him and be fine." You argue back casually.

At this point, you aren't too afraid of what's out there. It can't possibly be any worse than anything you've experienced lately. You can change, go out as a civilian until you find them. It shouldn't take too long and if it does, you know where they'll be at midnight and you can go there. Someone has to find Dick before any of this gets any worse. And someone needs to find Jason to make sure he's not actually going to try and kill Dick again. You're volunteering, again.

"How are we supposed to find you again then?" Gar asks.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Rache's ESP or whatever?" Rachel offers a slight glare to you as you shrug and give her a grin. "That's kind of what it is." You mutter under your breath. "Whatever Rachel just used, use that. I'm gonna find Dick and if I can't, I know where they're gonna meet."

"Why do you know that?" Rachel asks.

"Because I know Jason and so does Dick. So I'm gonna go there if I have to." The casualness of your voice is not reassuring to Gar or Rachel.

"We're gonna try to find the Lazarus Pit then." Gar states, holding his head high as he crosses his arms.

"You're not gonna stop about that are you?" You ask slowly, giving Gar a slight glare.

"Nope." Gar offers you a smile right back which gets your rather cold exterior to crack just a little.

"Fine but can you promise not to mess with it...like don't take any water...liquid? From it, okay? Or have Rachel try to destroy it." You raise your brows at Rachel and then at Gar who starts to beam.

"Of course not." Gar nods his head once. "I just want to find it, learn more."

"Alright." You let out a sigh. "I'll change and head out. If we don't meet up and you don't hear from me before somehow, we'll meet back here at noon tomorrow, okay?"

"Sounds good." Rachel offers a soft smile. "Don't do anything stupid."

You let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, too late." You look back to Gar. "You guys don't do anything stupid." You smile cheekily at Gar before you turn on your heels. "Be careful!" You wave a hand as you leave the room.

You start your search near the tunnel system, hoping Jason will be there at least but he's not. The reality is that if Jason doesn't want to be found, he won't be. That little bit of information about him has you starting to really worry. It's probably nothing. Jason is probably just with Crane, getting information and saving his own ass. But, there's this small part of you that does wonder if he's preparing to go after Dick again. As much as you don't want it to be true, a part of your trust in him is gone. It's been ripped and torn to unrecognizable shreds. It's as if he took that trust and ripped it apart, baring his teeth with anger like a rabid bear and it can't be mended from that. It's not how it works. There is no fixing it. Just gaining something new and you are not there yet. That leaves you questioning his motives even if the beating between your ribs is telling you his intentions are only pure.

Finding Dick is of no use either. You don't even know where he would go. At least with Jason, you know he likes the school around the block from the library but he doesn't care for that library. He prefers the one near the shelter that houses mostly kids. He has his favorite gargoyle. Finding Jason, when he wants to be found, is easy but Dick? You have no clue where he would even go. He probably has places to go but you aren't sure of any of them which leaves you mostly wandering around until it gets closer to midnight.

By then, it's time to change and meet them at the spot. If nothing else, Dick will be there and you'll be able to tell him where Gar and Rachel are.

This is not how Jason wanted this to go. He wanted to meet up with Dick but with Crane having control of the entire city, he couldn't risk it. Too bad for Jason because Dick does not trust him. Dick has offered him no benefit of the doubt of this not turning into a fight and no part of Jason actually blames him even if he's mad. Of course, Dick doesn't trust him. Why would he? But Jason doesn't stop fighting him to try to explain anything and neither does Dick. Instead, the two of them fight, throwing punches and kicks. Dick uses the enigma sticks and Jason shoots at Dick a few times. It's turned into chaos.

Somehow the roles have flipped. Jason doesn't want to kill Dick but by the way Dick is fighting, Jason is scared Dick will fight him till the death and Jason doesn't want to die again...not yet. It leaves him with no choice. Fight harder, faster, better. Be better.

But Jason and Dick's attention is pulled away from each other.

"What the fuck are you idiots doing?!" You yell, fully suited up again and just walking up to see the chaos they're creating.

This does not look good. They shouldn't be fighting. If all Jason wanted to do was meet up with Dick, they shouldn't be fighting. Something went wrong and at this point, you aren't even sure who caused it this time. But by the way Dick snaps his attention back to Jason and smacks him with the stick, you almost wonder if it were Dick that started this.

Jason doesn't take it lightly, immediately stepping back into combat mode and firing a shot at him. You roll your eyes, pulling out your grappling hook and a knife. You aim the hook at Jason's feet and the knife at Dick before you fire and throw. The hook smacks Jason's feet, throwing his aim off while the knife's end hits Dick's arm with enough force to get him to drop his stick.

"Hello? What the fuck are you two morons doing?" You snap again.

"He started it!" Jason yells as he points at Dick like a child.

Dick snaps his attention back to Jason. "Me?!"

"You threatened to kill him again, Jason!" You yell at him. "Seriously, what the fuck is going on?!"

Jason spins to look over at you. You cannot believe he wanted to fight Dick again. Of all people, you have to know this is not what he came here to do tonight.

"I just wanted to fucking talk and he attacked me!" Jason points at Dick again.

"Gee, I wonder why Dick would attack someone who just threatened to kill him. It's a real brain teaser, Jay." You quip back but you roll your eyes and look over to Dick. "So...you gonna kill him now?"

"I saw him!" Dick defends as he points the stick at Jason once he picks it up. Are they both five? "At the PD." Dick clarifies. "He was on the roof when we came out. He was in on it!" Dick closes the distance between them and smacks him with the stick again.

Jason doesn't miss a beat in fighting back, not even bothering to explain that he was at GCPD to help. Of course, Jason isn't going to try to explain that now. You're just exhausted with these two. At some point, they need to learn how to communicate with words and you figure, maybe they can just fight it out for once. Maybe they need to just fight until they get tired. So, you cross your arms and decide you'll watch and try to intervene if it looks like they might actually kill each other.

Dick ends up disarming Jason entirely, sending him to the ground just as a crowd of civilians gather around to watch the show and that's when your stomach starts to sink. Jason will be fine but these people hate Dick. The fight turns into a violent hand-to-hand fight, the two of them throwing punches and kicks as hard as they can and going for the neck. Jason grabs Dick's neck, pushing him back but Dick grabs Jasn, throwing him over Dick's head and slamming him on his back onto the hard pavement. You wince at the sight and sound. Dick walks over and picks up one of Jason's guns before he goes back to Jason and stands right over him. Dick points the gun at Jason's head.

You're quick to run and stand over Jason. You look up at Dick. "Dude, put the gun down." You put your hands out in surrender, the gun aimed at your stomach. "You're not gonna kill him." Your voice doesn't waver even if you're not entirely sure if that's true anymore.

Would Dick kill him?

Jason doens't want to die. It feels wrong to be back. It feels wrong. Like he's stretching the universe too far and it's all going to snap back, straighten itself out and toss him back into the grave where he belongs. But today, at the hands of Dick Grayson? No. He is not dying tonight so he decides to taunt Dick. Even if Dick wants to kill him, he'll never do it. He'd never give Jason the satisfaction even if Dick were able to toss his morals to the side.

"I did this to you." Jason mutters.

"Shut the fuck up, so fucking help me." You look to the sky in annoyance.

"You did this to yourself." Dick points the gun past you, aiming at Jason again. You move to stand in front of the gun again.

You were just shot two days ago. As badly as it hurt and as bad as it still sucks now, you'll take the bullet if you need to. No one is dying tonight. You've all lost too many people already and this is over a miscommunication.

"Come on. Give me the fucking gun." You mutter. "You're not like us." You plead, locking eyes with Dick.

There's something about the way you say it that gains even Jason's attention. It's not pained or sympathetic, it's just honest. It's not remorseful even, just honest and candid. But it's sad with the smallest touch of desperation. It says everything Dick and Jason need to know about how you really feel about people killing other people.

Dick looks at the gun and back to you. He hands you the gun and you take it, removing the bullets immediately and tossing them before you bend down beside Jason to make sure he's okay. For a second, you really thought Dick just might pull the trigger.

"You okay?" You ask softly as Jason leans up on his forearms, his head and back throbbing from the impact.

Jason looks back at you, brows pinched tightly together but then he sees movement from the corner of his eye, grabbing his attention behind Dick. "Nightwing." Jason's voice is rough but stern, harsh. A warning. Jason's eyes widen with the slight nod of his head.

You follow his stare, seeing an innocent civilian aiming a gun at Dick. Dick's brows pull together but before he can turn around, the kid starts shooting. Lucky for Dick, the suit is bulletproof. The bullets bounce right off as Dick turns around. The gunfire comes to a stop as you and Jason watch from your spot behind him. The both of you start to worry, just a little because the suit might be bulletproof but the kid just needs one lucky shot for this to be catastrophic.

"Woah, easy. I'm not here to hurt you." Dick says, putting his hand out as he walks towards the kid.

You get to your feet first, offering Jason a hand up. Jason takes it but the two of you keep your eyes on the kid. Scared kid, a gun, a guy painted to be the enemy fighting the guy painted to be the hero. The air fills with dread, suffocating Jason with its bare hands tattooed with guilt and regret. It's his fault Dick is here. It's his fault he didn't just say what happened and what he wanted. None of these people should even be here. What is he supposed to do?

"Careful, put the gun down." Dick states.

Jason pulls out another gun, switching to new bullets. He's definitely not going to shoot a scared kid who thinks he's doing the right thing. But, he can shoot in that general direction, he can just use it as a threat if he needs to. He doesn't want to threaten the kid but if he has to he will. He did not come here to kill Dick, get Dick killed, or watch him die. Not tonight.

"What the hell are you doing?" You whisper to him.

"Being prepared." Jason mutters back.

Dick hears Jason and turns around to face him before he starts walking back toward you and Jason. Dick is on guard, feeling as if he can't trust Jason. The second his back is turned, Jason is reloading a gun. From Dick's perspective, Jason isn't done fighting and Jason poses more of a threat than the kid. So, he pulls out the enigma stick again.

Before Dick can reach you and Jason, the kid starts shooting again. Dick is blocking them but Jason pulls you behind him, blocking you from the few shots not even putting any thought into it. But, by the time the third shot rings across the stale air, it finally makes proper contact with Dick. The kid got lucky. The kid got lucky, sending the bullet into Dick's neck right above where his armor stops.

It's as if the entire scene falls into slow motion as you and Jason watch in horror as the blood spurt from Dick's neck. Jason's heart stops beating entirely as Dick's hand goes to his neck, trying to put pressure on the wound. Jason eyes the kid who doesn't even look surprised or sorry or fucking scared. He doesn't look scared. He should look scared.

Jason didn't feel scared killing all those people but if he weren't high, he would have at least felt something. There would have been some part of him that would have felt some sort of fear or remorse or pity or he would have had a thought questioning if it were the right thing to do. Is this really the last resort? He would have felt fucking something other than pride for a job well done. This kid does not look like any of those things. He looks like he just did something on a random Tuesday night. No remorse, no consequences. Just a thing he did.

What is the city turning into?

What has Jason turned this city into?

"I did it for you." The kid's wavered voice breaks the silence, shattering the slowed illusion.

Jason glances to Dick as he falls to the ground and then he looks back to the kid. This is not what he wanted. Crane, Jason, they convinced the public of this. That this was the right way. Jason may not have had a part in that video but it never would have been made if it weren't for him. The public is gonna get blood on their hands. This will clear up, somehow, someway, it will and now this innocent kid, has to deal with the death of someone on his own hands for someone who was masquerading around like a hero, like a savior.

"Red Hood." The kid states, this time the unsteadiness of his voice is gone. And then he starts chanting Jason's vigilante name, over and over and over again as the rest of the civilians join in.

You look at him with heartbreak before you run over to Dick, pushing him onto his back where you put your hand over the neck wound. How could this happen? Another person? Another fucking person? Dick was always right about Gotham. Maybe Bruce was right about Gotham.

Jason went into more detail about what Bruce said to him the day he took Robin away. Bruce had said something about how people lose themselves to the city. Maybe he was right. Maybe they go mad, maybe they turn into murderers, and maybe they die. But eventually, maybe everyone gets lost in the city of damaged hopes. And maybe Dick was right, too. This city takes and it changes people. It's as if this city needs the chaos of destruction in order to stay afloat and it waits in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect victim at the right time before it sinks its teeth into them. It bleeds them of all their good parts until there's nothing left. A perfect sacrifice for the city.

Maybe that's all Gotham is because Dick is bleeding out because some kid got fucking lucky with a gun.

Jason watches in horror and having everyone chant his name does not sound as good as he once thought it would. At one point, he thought having everyone cheer for him would feel good. He would be important but he just got his brother shot. Someone who has almost always just tried to help him. Jason has been out here trying to kill him and thanks to you, Dick was willing to trust Jason and give him a second chance but now he's just been shot and it's his fault. And he's going to die because of him.

Jason knows what it's like to die and it's fucking terrifying and painful. Tears brim his eyes and the crowd is still chanting and he sees your cheeks glistening in the low streetlights around you. He wanted to talk but when Dick attacked first, rightfully so, he just couldn't help it. He thought that it was over for him and maybe it didn't have to be. How the fuck did he get here again? He should have just surrendered. That's all he had to do but his ego and pride get in the fucking way. All he ever does is get in the way. Dick's gonna die and it's all his fault.

He wants to run, get out of here because it's all too much. Too loud, too heavy. Too much pressure. Everyone is cheering as if Jason pulled the trigger and killed the worst of the worst. They're brainwashed and Jason knows that better than anyone. Someone has to snap them out of it. It's too much but running and pushing has never done him much good.

"Get out here!" Jason yells over the crowd as the chanting slows down. Your attention, like the rest of the crowd, lands on him. "Go! Before I start fucking shooting." Jason aims the gun into the air, his arm steady and his eyes threatening.

"We're on your side!" One of the citizens announces.

"So do what I fucking say." Jason snips back. "Didn't ask for you fucking help here. Get out of here." Jason takes steps toward the crowd as they start to back away.

They grumble and mutter amongst themselves before they eventually disburse. Jason takes that as his cue to run up beside you, leaning over Dick. There's blood pooling out of his mouth as he gasps for air.

"I can't stop the bleeding." You state. "Think he hit the fucking artery."

"I got it." Jason mutters, slightly nudging you out of the way where he can replace your hands with his. You have had enough blood on your hands lately, this is on Jason.

Neither of you have ever seen Dick look scared or panicked. Surely, he feels it. He is human and normal, mostly. But, he's really good at hiding it. With Deathstroke, you didn't see the look of pure terror on his face when you were standing outside the window. You didn't see the look of horror and agony on his face as Jason was falling to his death. You didn't see it because Dick has always been good at making sure no one sees those emotions from him. He has to be strong, sturdy, and a little calloused in order for everyone else not to panic. If the leader looks panicked and scared, so will everyone else. If everyone is scared and panicked, mistakes are made and more people die. So, he hides it. Until now.

Dick can feel the blood loss taking over, making him light-headed. The blood loss and bullet wounds alone are making it harder to breathe. He knows how long he has, maybe minutes but nothing more. Not unless you or Jason can get some sort of help in the next few seconds. He's going to die and it is fucking terrifying. He isn't ready. He has too much left. Who is going to look after the Titans if he dies? Who's going to stop Crane? He has too much life to live, outside of the Titans to die tonight but he is helpless. There is no help and there is no hope. It's just him bleeding out in the middle of downtown Gotham.

"Get." Dick tries to pull in a breath. "Help."

You look around and you don't see a single person around. Your heart starts to break as the lump comes back to your throat. It destroyed you when Jason died and it destroyed you when your mom died. You're actually pretending like Tim survived just in case he didn't. You can't deal with it if he died, too. But, you look back at Dick and you're really scared he'll die.

You might fight with him all the time and disagree with him usually, but you have a lot of respect for him. He saved your life more than once. You might not like his morals but you think he is a good person and he tries a lot harder than anyone else ever would. To help innocent people. To help you, no obligation, no transaction, no contingencies. He helps you because he just does. Just like with Rachel and Gar, and despite what Jason thinks, you think that's why he tried to help Jason, too. Just because. It shouldn't be Dick to die. The Titans need him. He's a really good leader, usually. It's almost shocking but he is. And everyone trusts him. The Titans will fall apart if he dies. They practically fell apart when Donna died but Dick would kill them. The Titans need him. You need him.

Jason glances over to you, knowing this is going to be bad. He's not going to make it and by the look of devastation in your eyes, he knows you feel it, too. And then the throbbing under Jason's hands comes to a slow halt.

"Dick?" Jason questions, looking back at him. "Hey, man, stay awake." Jason holds his voice steady, careful not to let it slip how much this is ripping him to shreds. "I can't feel his pulse." Jason says quietly, glancing back to you before he pulls his hand away, trying a different spot but he still feels nothing.

"Keep your hands on the wound." You mutter, moving to the opposite side before you place your hands on his chest and start chest compressions.

Jason watches you, trying to keep his hands steady on the wound but with every ump, Jason can feel blood coming from the wound, warming his hands. The tip of Jason's nose starts to feel like it's on fire while his eyes feel like someone's just thrown sand into them. This cannot be happening. Dick is otherwise dead and he's got you doing CPR, just as you did the night Jason died. And Jason can't peel his eyes away from you as some sort of self-torture because he thinks this is probably similar to how you looked that night.

The hood of your suit falling off of your head, resting lazily on your shoulders and moving with every compression. The way your hair is a complete mess. Tear-stained cheeks shining against any light that they catch. And blood soaking your skin. Jason wonders if this is the exact sight Babs walked in on. You must have felt so alone.

"Dick!" You and Jason hear Gar's voice from across the pavement, wet footsteps picking up their pace. "What happened?" Gar yells as him and Rachel get closer to the two of you.

"He was shot." Jason states as you don't miss a single beat.

"He's not breathing." You rush with heaving breath.

"Are you sure?" Gar asks with glossy eyes.

You stop, feeling for a pulse and there's still nothing. "Positive." You continue chest compressions, looking to Rachel who falls to her knees beside you.

"Is there anything you can do?" Gar asks, looking at Rachel.

You stop, sitting back on your toes, to see if Rachel can use her powers somehow to save him. It might not have worked on Donna but maybe it could work on Dick. He hasn't been dead long. Maybe that matters and Jason and Gar seem to have the same hope. Jason pulls away while Gar keeps his stance steady, almost holding his breath as Rachel tries her powers, a purple glow coming from her hands over Dick's neck. But nothing comes from it. Instead, the purple fades as Rachel lets out a cry.

"It's too late." Rachel sniffles, looking to Gar.

Gar lets out a scream as tears start to fall from your eyes. Jason's eyes stay trained on Dick, almost distant as he thinks the pain of it all has just chewed him to pieces. What are you gonna do?

You look to Rachel who looks like she might break into a million pieces right in front of you. Gar yells again as bats crowd the space above all of you. The four of you look up, watching the bats circle around all of you. Gar starts to have problems with his eyes as he rubs them only for his face to start turning green and then his hands start to change until his body follows. Suddenly, Gar is a bat, flying with the others above you.

"Gar?" Rachel asks.

You, Jason, and Rachel get to your feet as the bats circle closer and closer to Dick, Gar right in the mix of them. You all back away as the bats fly down to Dick and start to pick him up, all of them working together. They fly Dick high into the air before they start moving.

"What...the....fuck?" You look to Rachel as she'll have some sort of answer.

"That's new, right?" Jason looks to you who just nods.

"Come on." Rachel says, without missing a beat, grabbing some of Gar's clothes before she starts following the bats and Gar.

You and Jason exchanged a confused look before deciding to follow. You both have absolutely nothing left to lose at this point.

"I thought he couldn't turn into anything else?" You ask as the three of you run to keep up with the bats.

"He turned ito a snake once." Jason answers, not even thinking.

He was possessed at the time and the reason Gar turned into a snake in the first place but Gar talked about it a lot at first. Jason tried to help him transform again, several times with different methods. Getting him mad, scaring him, sparring harder with him, they tried everything but nothing ever worked. And then Gar stopped talking about it.

"Yeah, once but now he's a bat?" You question. "What the fuck?"

"Is that really what you're concerned about right now?" Rachel asks, her voice torn between amusement and worry.

"I mean..." You suck in a breath. "It's better than the alternative. I would prefer to focus on the weird shit than the sad shit."

Rachel gives you a subtle glare as you keep up your fast walk. It's not a long walk before you all reach the entrance of a building and Rachel is the only one who understands what's happening.

"They're taking him to the Lazarus Pit." Rachel says as Gar and the bats take Dick into the building.

"What?" Jason almost demands as his steps come to a hard stop. "You found it?"

"Yeah." Rachel mutters softly, turning around to see Jason not walking and you standing a few feet in front of him.

He can't go in there. It feels wrong. How do you know Dick would want that? Would he want it? If someone were to have asked Dick before he died if this is what he wanted, would he say yes? Would he agree to it without knowing the consequences of being brought back? Would he be okay with the constant feeling of being pulled back to the dark where the Grim Reaper waits with a smile?

But Jason looks at you and Rachel, the two who Dick has saved. It's not his place to argue it. Dick hasn't been dead long. Maybe he won't feel the way Jason does. Jason was dead a few days. Maybe it's different. Maybe the Pit has different effects the longer someone is dead so it's not his place. Jason hasn't been on good terms with Dick in a few weeks, he doesn't get a say. But, he can't go in. The pull is too strong and his bones feel like they might vibrate and shatter right through his skin. He can't do it.

"You coming, Jay?" You ask softly as you close the distance between you. You thought maybe he'd want to see the thing that brought him back. It is fascinating. And maybe he could be there if it works for Dick. Maybe help.

"No." Jason shakes his head. "I'm going to Crane." Jason spits it out without thinking as he watches the shock consume your face.

"Do you think that's really a good idea?" Rachel asks as a wince almost consumes her entire expression.

Jason takes a step towards you and nods his head at Rachel before looking back at you. "I gotta try to fucking help. Maybe I can get Crane to spill with Dick dead. He won't know about the Pit."

He has to do this. Maybe he can convince Crane to give up some form of information. If the Pit can bring Jason back, it can bring Dick back. He's going to wake up in a few hours and now it's Jason's job to get him some answers so they finally put this whole thing out of its misery. He owes Dick that much.

"Are you sure?" You ask, eyes scanning his face as if fully convinced this is just him avoiding something.

Jason nods softly. "Yeah, go with them. We'll meet later." Jason offers something that's not quite a smile.

You don't like the idea but...maybe Crane will think Nightwing's death is on Jason's hands. Maybe that'll be enough for Crane to actually trust Jason just enough to offer some sort of information to him. It's the right thing to do.

"Okay." You nod reluctantly. "Be careful, yeah?"

"Always." Jason gives you the subtle smirk he always does before he nods and runs off in the opposite direction.

The two of you go into the building, following the way Gar and the other bats took as you run to catch up. You get to an open room where a glowing pool of blue liquid sits right in the middle of the room. Gar and the other bats hover above it, holding Dick's lifeless body.

"Gar, now!" Rachel yells as the bats start to lower Dick into the water.

Once Dick is lowered, the bats fly around until Dick is completely submerged and then they disburse. Besides Gar. You and Rachel sit at the edge of Lazarus Pit, just watching as it starts to bubble. This whole thing is weird but you can't help but feel just a little bit of hope. If it worked for Jason, it should work for Dick.

"You're not allowed to leave anymore." You mutter, keeping your eyes on the Pit.

"What?" Rachel shakes her head in confusion.

"You're not allowed to leave. Everything went to shit and you show up, find me and Gar and then the damn pit. You can't leave, Titans need you." You nod your head quickly as Rachel smiles softly, looking back to the pit.

Gar transforms back to himself and starts getting dressed. Once he has his pants on, he walks to the edge of the pit, standing opposite you and Rachel. He's blinking dramatically, having a subtle sway to stance as he tries to get his equilibrium back to normal.

"He's gonna make it, right?" Gar asks, looking at you.

Gar isn't sure how you would know but you're the one who's had more conversations with Jason than anyone. Jason might not know a lot but something about asking you gives Gar hope. Maybe you do know the Pit works every single time. Gar hopes it works like that.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Uh...J-Jason just said, uh, that someone put him in it and then he was alive. So..." You nod your head. "I-I guess if that's all there is...yeah. Jason was dead for a few days so..." You pull in a shaky breath.

"I can't believe he actually died." Rachel states, her eyes on the pit. She says it mostly out of hope that whatever happened with Jason to bring him back, will bring Dick back.

You glance to her before you pull your knees to your chest. You know it's because Rachel is finding all of this out for the first time while everyone else has had a few weeks to digest the news and fumble their way through the aftermath. But, no one can believe Jason not only died but then came back. It's the way it's talked about, how it's said in passing and so casually that you almost wonder if they're all just...fine with it. At the end of the day, Jason died. He died. That was something that happened and he remembers it. As someone who was nearly beaten to death, you know that was haunting. Is haunting. You can't imagine what dying is actually like. And how terrified he probably still feels. But, everyone else is...it's as if that aspect of it, doesn't matter. To some extent, you get it. You understand because he became Red Hood and decided to kill Dick. You understand because they didn't see it. But, it irks you anyway.

"Sorry." Rachel says quietly. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just meant that it's kind of crazy. Jason was reckless but I didn't think he'd actually get killed." Rachel explains calmly.

"No, it's okay." You shake your head. "You're just getting the news of everything and then Dick is killed. I get it, don't worry about it."

"Are you okay?" Gar asks, his brows knitted together in their usual state of worry.

"I'm fine." You look up to him with one stern nod. "Been here a few times, right?" You quip bitterly.

"That's why I asked." Gar nods his head.

"Yeah, I'm good." You sniffle. "Are you guys okay? I mean...it's Dick." You look between Rachel and Gar as if feeling you have no right to grieve him as much as them.

You've been at odds with Dick most of the time over the last few weeks. It doesn't seem fair for you to absorb any space for grief. It should be given to Rachel and Gar.

"No." Gar answers. "What're we supposed to do without him?" Gar's voice nearly shatters.

"We don't have to think about that because if it worked for Jason, it'll work for Dick." Rachel states with ease and you're not sure who she's trying to convince.

"Yeah." Gar says shortly.

"I think we need to force the batboys into therapy after this. Group and individual until they learn how to have a conversation." You groan, trying not to focus on Dick actually dying and not coming back from this.

"We all need therapy." Gar mutters as he comes to sit on the other side of you.

The three of you fall silent, just watching the pit with no idea how long this is supposed to take or if you'll even know if it works or not. This is definitely the pit but none of you know the logistics of it. For all you know, this isn't going to work or it could take hours or days. So, you just fall into silence, mostly thinking of everything that's happened.

It's haunting and sets reality into stone of the work you all do. Of couse, it was real the day Donna died. Wonder Girl was killed. It was real then, too. But, it was an accident. And then it was real when Jason died. But, it was Jason who was killed by The Joker. That was different. This is Dick though. He's the leader and even when he's wrong, he still knows what to do. He was Robin. He's Nightwing. He's not supposed to die and he did anyway. And it was by some kid with a gun. It wasn't The Joker or Two Face or Deathstroke. It was just some kid. A kid Dick would have protected but everyone turned their backs on the Titans over Crane. And Dick was killed for it.

What are you all supposed to do if this doesn't work? Just go back to San Francisco like nothing happened? That doesn't seem possible. It'll just feel cold and lonely.

Between the three of you sitting here, he's saved your lives more times than you can count. He is the older and annoying brother none of you really asked for. It's losing another family member. But...it hits a little different this time. So, the air around you feels like it's carrying bricks and the guilt of the entire world.

Jason, he's also still processing everything that's just happened. When he left to meet Dick, he knew he'd have to start talking immediately, given his own broadcast and conversation with Dick. But, then the flashbang went off and it's like it...triggered something in him where he just had to fight. He just had to. Something deep inside of him told him Dick would never let him explain why he did what he did. It's the immediate defensive mechanism and he knows it. But, he's on the way back to the manor and he's thinking that was just dumb. It was not giving Dick any bit of credit which Jason doesn't like to do on most days but he deserved this time. And now he's dead. He's dead and that's Jason's fault because that kid was defending him. Everything is his fault even when he is desperately clawing his way away from all of this. It follows him.

He told you that, months ago, it follows him like a curse and he has never been so sure of that. First it was his mom. He is not mad at her and he holds no resentment towards her but he wasn't enough for her. She chose those drugs every single day over him and he knows part of that was so she could function. That's how it started. It started so she could take care of him. If it weren't for him in the first place, his mom wouldn't have gotten addicted and then she'd still be here.

His dad was angry and desperate because he was just trying to provide for them. He was down and out and he was an ass and abusive but there was a point, before the alcohol, where he was trying. He was trying and if it weren't for Jason being an extra mouth to feed who needed other things, maybe his dad wouldn't have been so angry and desperate.

Had he never gone after Deathstroke, you wouldn't have been there. Had he never gone after Deathstroke, the Titans wouldn't have left and the tower wouldn't have been attacked or the Titans would have fought together. Gar wouldn't have been kidnapped and turned into a killer. Donna wouldn't have died.

You wouldn't been traumatized had he never went after the Joker. You wouldn't have been shot. Dick wouldn't have been shot and killed. Hank wouldn't have been killed. Everything that's happened has been following right on his heels like a rabid dog chasing him down a dead end alley. There is no escape. He is just stuck in this constant spiral of agony and causing everyone else around him the worst pain they will ever experience.

This is all his fault and there's nothing he can do anymore.

Even if the Pit works, will Dick remain the same? Or will he be as terrified and traumatized and stuck as Jason? Whatever side effects Dick gets from the Pit, that has to fall on Jason, too.

Jason reaches the Batcave, the cuts from Dick's punches still bleeding over his face. Crane is dragging his scythe on the floor, his face covered in fresh cuts. He's got this evil and eerie smile while there's a body on a table, cut open with his organs sticking out. This is the first time he's ever felt terrified of Crane. At the hospital, it wasn't Crane Jason was worried about it. It was who would call in. But this? This is Crane losing his damn mind on some, likely, innocent person and Jason thinks his days are definitely numbered with him. Everyone's days are numbered with him.

"Nightwing's dead." Jason states, his words flat and pained.

"Batman saved my toy." Crane says but it's only slightly enthusiastic, almost childlike as he holds up the scythe by the chain. Crane lets out a light chuckle as Jason just watches him closely, ready to move if Crane tries to pull anything. "A trinket of our courtship together. Who would have thought he was so...sentimental."

Jason's eyes narrow as he watches Crane. All of this...over his scythe? Jason knew he was insane but he's really pushing the envelope tonight.

"Did you hear me?" Jason questions but with no venom or snark. His chest is in so much agony, he doesn't think he can muster it at this second. "I said Nightwing is dead!" Jason gets himself to yell, growing frustrated.

"So?" Crane states. "Wasn't my monster." Crane states plainly but not in the way where his words feel light. This time there's something heavy and dark in his tone, running a chill up Jason's spine. The scythe drops to the floor, Crane still holding it by the chain. "He's your monster. What do you want? A cookie?" Crane offers a half-assed chuckle, mostly to himself.

A fire starts erupting through Jason's blood like an overdue volcano. He can't be serious. Getting clean, Jason realizes that so much of the shit Crane was spilling was just him manipulating him, making sure Jason had no one to run to besides Crane. But, there's some part of him that is still hurt and disgusted by the reaction. It was Crane's idea.

"You said that's what you wanted." Jason argues softly, taking just a few steps toward Crane. "When it was done, we would save Gotham my way." Jason's voice is small as the sense of betrayal kicks in.

He is only here to find out what Crane has planned and then he's gone. But, he can't help how badly it hurts. It would hurt anyway because he was manipulated into it. Turned against someone who has been looking out for him. But, Jason, as far as he knows, felt like Crane figured they were still on the same side. This doesn't feel that way. That's when Jason is realizing that's the point. Jason does the dirty work so Crane can be up at the top, hands clean and filled with the power Jason served him on a silver platter.

He knew that's all it was but maybe a part of him still believed otherwise and for the life of him, he has no idea why.

"Gotham will be saved." Crane starts his walk towards Jason, holding his scythe so it doesn't drag on the floor. "But first, it must be destroyed. As clever hopes expire, waves of fear and anger circulate over the bright and darken the lands of the earth." Crane explains as he uses the chain to sway the scythe back and forth while he paces in front of Jason.

"What the fuck kind of gibberish is that?" Jason quips back not even entirely sure if Crane is actually coherent.

"No," Crane says quickly, turning to face Jason. "No, not gibberish. No, it's the past come to life in the present." Crane pauses and Jason realizes how completely fucked he is. "An ode to the bat and his wee bird. When they stopped me, but they can't stop me now. No." Crane is looking away from Jason and Jason is starting to wonder if Crane is talking to him or just talking to himself or some third person Jason isn't aware of. "They can't stop me now...because." Crane shakes his head. "Because we will walk among them. The dead." Crane looks back at Jason and Jason hangs his head, something about him basically being the dead. "And the fallen city will be like...it'll be like a beacon. Very soon, very soon, Jason, very very soon they will die. Yes, they will die."

What the hell is this maniac even talking about?

"Who will die?" Jason asks cautiously.

"All of them!" Crane faces Jaosn as he screams, his entire face turning red. "All of them! Everybody." Crane looks to the floor and this is not how Jason wanted to fix Gotham. The answer isn't gutting the fucking the city. "You still stink of fear. After all that I've given you."

Jason's growing tired of Crane's babbling. It's not making any sense and he wants to get the fuck away from him before Crane tries to slice him in two like the other guy.

"You said I was gonna be a savior." Jason nods his head at him, a hint of disgust in his voice. "Is that your whole plan? Destroy the fucking city?"

"Is that not what it's been about?" Crane states almost whimsically.

"And how the fuck do you plan to do that?" Jason lets out a scoff but Crane just offers him a harsh glare as Jason sees his grip tighten on the chain.

Crane isn't going to tell him anything and even if he does, it'll likely be an incoherent mess like it has been the last few minutes. It was a waste of time, mostly. What Jason does know now is that he wants to destroy the entire city. There are a lot of ways to do that though and that's where he finds himself stuck. But, he can't stick around here. Not when there's no chance of getting a good answer.

"I won't help you destroy the city." Jason holds his stance, firm but calm.

"Well," Crane says with disappointment. "Perhaps you won't." Crane says before there's a pause and then he turns around quickly, throwing a scythe at Jason, still holding onto it by the chain.

Jason dodges just in time, moving quickly away from Crane. Crane follows right after him, swinging his scythe at him and just missing by a few inches. Jason keeps moving away and running, avoiding the blows each time. He does not want his head taken off tonight. That is not the plan. So, he dodges and once he sees the opportunity, he runs out of the Batcave as quickly as he can.

Crane has officially lost it which was only a matter of time before that happened. Jason was hoping they had a little bit more time but, if Crane is losing it, that means he'll be easier to take down. Once Crane starts losing his mind, he gets distracted, starts losing some of the quick thinking he's so proud of. But, Crane has something in place. It's the way he talked about it that tells Jason Crane won't need to do anything else. It's already in motion. So, now he needs to find at least you, Rachel, and Gar and maybe the four of you can figure it out. Maybe you've had some luck with the Lazarus Pit.

Jason hopes you've had luck with the Lazarus Pit.

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[lily-blue]

Paying the price

☆ characters: patriot!jiung & revolutioner!you ☆ genre: dystopian au, the devil judge au, angst ☆ warnings: graphic description of damaged corpses, mention of blood and violence, vomiting, major character’s death, spoilers ☆ summary: jiung believes in the system, that it has the people’s best interest; you believe that the system is rotten to the core and the people of South Korea need to be enlightened about the truth - as it always is, you two learn it the hard way which one of you is right ☆ words: 15,3k ☆ massive thank you: to @dat-town ♥ for proofreading this monster (i still can’t believe i accidentally made intak older than jiung 🙃) ☆ also: happy name day to the one and only @restlessmaknae​ 💕 it actually made me feel nostalgic when i started to search up these guys for this story, it reminded me of that one yeonjun fic i wrote for you, the one that made me stan txt. i’m not quite there yet with these boys, but who knows, maybe one day. thank you for coming back to my life and showing me new groups and new things this year, too. i wish you nothing but happiness! 💕 ☆ a/n: this story is written for @restlessmaknae’s (dis)harmony collab; you can check out the masterlist with the other stories » here

Despite the country’s shortcomings: the apparent corruption that was planted in its core from the education system through the media to the judicial and political apparatuses, you loved your home. You loved living in a neighbourhood where the grocery store ahjussi gave you an extra cluster of grapes whenever you looked tired at the end of a rough day and the ahjumma from the corner Chinese restaurant knew your order by heart, hence spared you from the headache of making yet another decision when all you craved was a big bowl of warm lotus root soup. You loved knowing the youngsters in your building by their name and the feeling of having half a dozen sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts despite losing your family at an unfairly young age and spending too many lonely years in a government-funded orphanage.

God, you even loved the opportunities higher education was constantly giving you regardless of a handful of your teachers who openly expressed their political views in class when it went against your university’s policies. So why couldn’t you have sat through your Korean History II. lecture with a neutral face like everyone else did? Why did it make your blood boil when looking at Choi Jiung’s slides you realised that he was about to praise your country’s leaders, too, like the three other students before him had already done during their own presentations? Why couldn’t you have shut up and swallow down your opinion when it was time for the audience’s questions?

Easy. Because despite your love for your country and the people around you, it was corrupt to the core and as law students, all of you should have refrained from turning a blind eye to the exponentially growing amount of power abuse that happened in your home. It didn’t matter that half of your classes brainwashed you to bend under pressure.

‘What about those innocent citizens who lost their homes because of the evacuation? There is no clear data available about the rehousing of those families. Were they ever compensated?’ You threw your provocative questions at the blond boy, voice firm and merciless as your words echoed off the pristine walls in the small classroom.

The moment Choi Jiung’s gaze fell on you, you knew he was pissed, although he did a great job concealing his feelings. It was just… you had known the guy ever since you had moved to your current one-bedroom flat right after you had been kicked out of the orphanage. You could read him like he was an open book.

‘While the rate of unemployment increased during the pandemic, the statistics show that the rate of homelessness stayed stagnant. Is that not clear data?’ The blond boy asked back and you could hear your professor’s pleased humming from the first row as you were sitting in the second one, almost right behind Mr. Kim.

You linked your fingers and let your arms fall on your desk while you leaned forwards with a straight back. You didn’t break eye contact.

‘Reports from that period state that due to the pandemic, there were less ongoing projects in the construction industry, which means there couldn’t have been emergency constructions due to rehousing. Where did those families go?’ You pushed, shutting out the murmurs from your side and behind your back. You were already used to the whispering, the wary look in your classmates’ eyes whenever you expressed your opinion.

Unlike what they said, you weren’t obsessed with the spotlight nor did you have a childish crush on Choi Jiung. You picked fights with him because he was an unpleasant part of your friend group, but a part nonetheless, and you believed that Shota wouldn’t have tolerated his presence in your lives if he had been a lost case.

You challenged Jiung repeatedly to help him see the errors in his own beliefs.

‘Less ongoing projects don’t equal to no ongoing project. It only means there were fewer than before the pandemic,’ Jiung stated, voice cold despite the fire in his eyes. ‘Those few projects could have been, or included, the emergency constructions in the countryside,’ he said, your nails digging into the back of your hands because of your frustration as you were listening.

‘Hundreds of thousands of people—’

‘I think that’s enough. We still have one more presentation to sit through and discuss before this seminar ends,’ your professor rose from his seat, exchanging positions with the blond student. If looks could have killed, neither him nor Mr. Kim would have survived your rage. How dared this old, soggy snob cut you off when you were clearly making a point?

You had to bite into your cheeks from the inside to not curse him out, but your opinion must have been written all over your face because before the next student could have started her presentation, the history professor looked at you and shook his head as though he was deeply disappointed when clearly, he was annoyed.

‘It’s my last warning, miss,’ the man stated and you were genuinely surprised that he hadn’t memorised your name by now. After all, it wasn’t your first class with him and you had never been a silent participant. ‘If you keep disturbing the peaceful learning environment, I will need to send you out of my class and mark this lesson as a missed lesson next to your name in the roster,’ he informed you, although it was more like a threat.

Okay, maybe he did know your name. He just didn’t bother to address you respectfully.

You pressed your lips into a firm line, contemplating whether getting into a useless fight with your professor would have been worth it, but ended up biting into your cheek from the inside once again instead of reciting your rights as a student of this institute. It didn’t matter what rights a piece of paper gave you in your country when your opinion differed from what was accepted and encouraged by those above you - expected and demanded if you didn’t feel like sugarcoating the truth.

Consequently, you fully intended to stay put until the end of the class because it was still too early into the semester to waste one of the three lessons you were allowed to miss in each seminar, but as soon as Kang Yohan’s face was staring back at you from the next presenter’s slides, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. Thus, you did both yourself and the class a favour when you shoved your laptop into your backpack and walked out of the classroom without a word.

The sound of your steps echoed off the walls of the semi-abandoned hallways, but the relative silence didn’t bother you, nor did the glances you got from those who saw you walking out of a classroom before the official end of the period. Confident, you headed towards the library on the first floor with your chin high and your facial expression unbothered.

It wasn’t the first time you chose your beliefs (and your pride) instead of letting a professor humiliate you in front of a whole class, after all.

You were doing some research for another class, sipping on your iced coffee despite the late hour, reading through statistics about crime rates and the judicial system, when Shota took a seat by the table you had been occupying since your last class for the day. You narrowed your eyes as you let your gaze loiter over his dishevelled figure, but said nothing before you turned back to your laptop. Being neighbours with the guy, you whole-heartedly believed that some things considering him was better left unasked. That way, you weren’t an accomplice.

‘Are you still looking for a way to get inside that institute?’ He asked while he reached out for your drink and took a casual sip of the bitter beverage like it was his.

You tore your gaze from the screen and leaned your back against your chair without making the slightest attempt at getting your drink back from the younger. Instead, you linked your arms in front of your chest and observed his face with caution. The yellowish bruise under his left eye and the cut on his cheek promised nothing good, but you knew Shota meant danger mostly for himself and rarely for the people around him.

‘The Dream House Medical Center?’ You asked just to confirm that you were thinking of the same building and all he gave you was a nod and a lopsided smile. ‘Yeah, I do, actually.’

Even though you still had a whole year before you should have started on your masters thesis, you already had a pretty firm idea of what you would have liked to write about: Kang Yohan, the misjudged judge who had died nearly a decade ago in the explosion of the courtroom where the infamous live court show had been broadcasted. That day, South Korea had lost not only the president and the first lady of the country, but five other powerful and rich people as well, all seven of them corrupt to the core yet labelled as victims of a self-assured psychopath. It boiled your blood whenever you thought of them, how in today’s history books, they were the casualty of an anti-national act conducted in an attempt to overthrow the administration.

Your fists were trembling as your nails sank into the soft flesh of your palms. You swore, you would clear the judge’s name one day in the future and make everyone see those lies that they were constantly fed by the government. Your thesis paper, the detailed research none of your professors would be able to oppose, would be the first step down the road.

But to be able to start marching, you had to get inside the Dream House Medical Center.

‘Any suggestions?’ You asked when the silence got too loud, not breaking eye contact even when you could feel the first tear drops forming in the corner of your eyes. Making a deal with Shota was never easy, the boy did nothing for free, not even for his closest friends, but he wouldn’t have brought up the topic just to tease you. He had something to offer and you knew when to be patient.

‘I got my hands on some interesting intel, so I can get us in and out without any of the guards noticing,’ he informed you, lazily sipping on your drink as though he hadn’t just knocked you off your feet with his statement. You were trying to find a way inside that building for months by then, because while it was supposed to be an abandoned institute - it was a part of a failed charity project after all - it was unreasonably heavily guarded.

Taking a deeper breath to ground yourself, you put your elbows on the table in front of your laptop and leaned forwards.

‘Name your price,’ you demanded quietly, earning a genuine smile from the boy.

‘Help me with the university interview. I need dirt on your professors and those you don’t have classes with,’ Shota negotiated and honestly, the only reason you were able to swallow down the laugh that was scratching your throat was the fact that you needed his help. If you could have afforded him getting sulky, you would have ruffled his messy hair and pinched his cheeks before you told him you would have helped him anyway.

He was clearly doing you a favour for free while pretending that he was a businessman who made no exceptions. It made you wonder whether he had gotten beaten up when he had tried to find information on the Dream House for you or the two things were completely irrelevant. A selfish part of you that didn’t want to deal with the guilt wished it was the latter, but deep down you knew Shota wouldn’t have held back something so huge just to share it with you at the perfect moment.

You had both learned early on in your lives that perfect moments were created; they didn’t just come to those who were patiently waiting.

‘Want it written down or is it enough if I tell you everything I know?’ You asked with a small tilt of your head, playing along and taking on a more serious tone. Meanwhile, you glanced down at your laptop and pulled up a blank document on your screen. The chances that none of your professors would have been present at Shota’s interview was high, so you wanted to make sure you had info on those who might have been possible candidates. For that, you needed to prepare a long list with every professor from the Business Faculty on it and ask around in the KU group chats you weren’t a part of yet.

‘Written down,’ Shota said and you acknowledged his choice with a low hum and a nod as you pulled up your university’s website and copied the names of the listed professors to your document. You also made a second list that contained the names of students you personally knew and would have vouched for, hence could have sought out for help.

‘Consider it being done,’ you preened, scanning through your lists one more time before you closed the tab and saved a couple of important websites regarding your assignment for your class as bookmarks. You made sure your laptop was turned off properly before you shoved it into your bag. ‘About the Dream House…’ you started, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could despite the light buzzing in your veins. ‘When are we going?’

‘Where are you going?’ Choi Jiung’s voice cut off your impromptu discussion before it could have started and you sighed, disappointed that you had let your excitement get the best of you when you should have seen the interruption coming. After all, Jiung was well aware that you preferred studying on campus over writing your papers in your own flat. He also knew that Shota liked tagging along when you had classes after six, because it meant that chances you would stay at the nearby coffee shop until closing time was high and he hated when you walked home on your own so late at night. Thus, when Jiung was looking for his friend, all he needed to do was checking the spots you frequented at.

‘None of your business, Choi,’ you grumbled while you leaned back against your chair and linked your arms in front of your chest.

Frustrated, you rolled your eyes when Jiung put a cup of perfectly untouched iced coffee on the table in front of you, but reached out for the drink when you saw Shota eyeing it like he was seconds away from stealing that, too.

The silence that fell on your table wasn’t new. It was a recurring phenomenon in your friends group whenever Jiung and you were joined by a less talkative person - so basically anyone other than Keeho or Intak. And while at first it had made you anxious, because you had felt as though you should have been able to initiate or at least keep up a pleasant conversation with people you considered close friends, by now you knew silence was absolutely fine as well. In fact! It was rather nice to enjoy the tranquillity around people who accepted you the way you were: stubborn, strong-willed and curt when you had nothing important to say.

‘What got your panties in a twist this time?’ Shota’s snarky question shook you out of your thoughts, his dark eyes fixed on nothing in particular making you wonder whether he was talking to you or the blond boy on his other side.

You opened your mouth for an equally sarcastic answer when Jiung let out a loud huff and cut you off with his own mocking reply.

‘What else? She tried to sabotage my presentation. Again,’ he accused and you rolled your eyes without giving too much thought to the action. All three of you knew damn well that you would have never stooped so low; your morals simply wouldn’t have let you play dirty much to Shota’s disappointment. The younger had tried to make you see numerous times that the world wasn’t fair to those who played by the rules, but you stood your ground each and every time. You wanted to become an exceptional judge just like Kang Yohan and his mentee, Kim Gaon. You were determined to lead by example as well - with the right example!

‘Oh, grow up, Choi Jiung, would you? My questions were spot on,’ you retorted, slim fingers turning white around your drink.

Looking around, you had to remind yourself that just because it was late, the coffee shop still had a fair amount of customers, thus you should have kept your voice low to not disturb their peace. Still, resisting the urge to call the blond boy out on his bullshit, as he wouldn’t have contributed to your daily caffeine intake if he had been indeed pissed, was challenging. He got under your skin way too easily.

‘No. You were once again pressing your false narrative,’ Jiung tried to correct you, talking to you in a condescending way that made you feel like a child. If looks could have killed, he would have been dead even before his gaze landed on you. ‘One day, these types of questions will cost you a lot more than a missed class.’

You gulped down the coffee in your mouth along with the non-existent bile that somehow did scratch your throat.

‘Is that a threat?’ You spat, unaware of the sadness in Jiung’s eyes as you were hyper fixated on the possible implication behind his words. It made you see red, grip tight around your cup and nails digging into the plastic with so much force, Shota had to take the coffee out of your hand and put it on the table before it could have overflowed.

‘Friendly advice,’ Jiung corrected you once again and it was only due to the years of practice the orphanage had given you that you hadn’t screamed it into his face that you didn’t consider him as a friend. Not like you did Keeho and Theo and sure as hell not like you did Shota. The sole reason you let him be a part of your life despite his questionable political beliefs was your respect for the others.

With a resigned sigh, Jiung turned his gaze away and shook his head as though he couldn’t have taken your stubbornness any longer. Well, you didn’t ask him to.

‘I’m done for today,’ you stated, leaving the half-finished drink on the table as you grabbed your bag and slid your gaze to the younger. ‘Shota?’

The boy stood up from his seat immediately and reached out for the abandoned beverage, his smile content as he took a big sip from the iced coffee. He patted Jiung’s shoulder twice in gratitude, then squeezed it lightly for good measure.

You turned away, refusing to feel guilty for putting an abrupt end to the conversation. It was a long day, getting into a heated argument about the government with Jiung for the second time that day was the last thing you needed. Especially at a public place that you loved and where you were a regular.

‘See you tomorrow, hyung,’ Shota bid his goodbye while you sealed your lips and gave Jiung a half-assed bow because it was a habit drilled into your DNA. It was a fundamental part of your culture: you bowed to people at every single encounter, at every goodbye and sometimes in between when the situation required it. You didn’t have to respect someone to follow the most basic rules of etiquette in their company.

If Jiung had said anything to your best friend before the younger boy followed you towards the exit, you hadn’t heard him, but you did sneak a peek at him sitting casually by your table before you closed the door shut.

Not that you would have admitted it to anyone.

Your palms were sweaty while you were waiting with Shota for what you supposed was some sort of sign that you could finally enter the building without getting arrested for trespassing. Admittedly, you had never felt more nervous in your entire life: your current actions going against your moral code while simultaneously aiding your fight against the propaganda that your whole nation was fed with on a daily basis. You needed evidence, desperately so, but the thought of breaking into the Dream House Medical Center freaked you out more and more as the crucial moment came closer and closer to your present.

Only a couple hundreds of metres from the abandoned institute, it felt too real. You weren’t sure you were ready and started to question whether you were made for the job.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that at one point your feet started drumming a clumsy rhythm on their own accord, but your lips still parted slightly when you felt a warm hand on your knee, over your ripped jeans. Staring at Shota’s hand, you lifted your head to look at his face and shot a tight-lipped smile at him as a sign of gratitude for his silent support. You could do this. It had been your idea from the beginning. You were doing the right thing.

So why did the proverb ‘the end justifies the means’ sound like a cheap excuse of a criminal?

‘Nervous, kiddo?’ A familiar voice pulled you out of the self-doubting spiral of thoughts and you turned towards the newcomers with panic in your eyes. Not counting the two of you, no one should have known about your plan. So why were two of your friends staring at you like they were simultaneously doubting your sanity and admiring you for your guts?

You looked around to check your surroundings in search of the others, then let your gaze fall back on Keeho and Jiung when you realised it was only them. 

‘What are you guys doing here?’ You whisper-shouted, unable to decide how you felt about their presence. For 1) since it was your research, you felt like you were responsible for the safety of everyone who got involved in the fieldwork and looking after Shota in itself was already a bit emotionally overwhelming for you under the current circumstances. 2) Because of the very same reason, you were relieved that there would be more pairs of eyes during the investigation that could watch out for the potential danger.

Still, a part of you felt more people meant a bigger risk. It didn’t help that you were already fidgety due to your growing guilt that pressed down on your chest.

‘Supervising,’ Keeho explained, his tone lowkey condescending like he couldn’t believe he needed to spell it out to you. Like it was natural that he was there even though he shouldn’t have known about the trespassing to begin with. ‘Obviously, I won’t just let Shota break into a guarded institute on his own,’ he added, coaxing a displeased scoff out of you with his complete disregard for your presence and capabilities.

You wanted to remind the boy that you were only two weeks younger than him and that you would have made sure Shota didn’t get in trouble even if it had meant endangering your own life, but in the end you swallowed back your remarks. Mostly, because you believed it would have been unwise to start a fight so close to the main gates. Also, because your muscles were non-existent in comparison with the older boy’s. Realistically speaking, he had more potential than you when it came to protecting your friends.

‘What about you?’ You turned towards Jiung, one of your slim brows raised with challenge. For some reason, you doubted he had come with Keeho to help you in any way. If anything, he might have tagged along to give you another unasked, friendly advice.

‘I came to see your face when you realise you’ve been wrong all this time,’ he claimed with a shrug, not putting too much effort into protecting your feelings. Although, had he ever? The thought that he found true joy in your failures left a bitter taste in your mouth.

The retort that he had come in vain had already been on the tip of your tongue when Shota nudged you with his shoulder and pointed at the entrance once he gained your attention.

‘It’s time,’ he said. You gulped before you acknowledged his statement with a nod.

Considering how many walls you had bumped into while you had been trying to find a way inside the building in the legal way, how unhelpful every single one of the government agents had been and how many armed guards you had seen around the building in the last hour, you had assumed that walking inside the medical centre would be challenging despite your best friend’s intel. Blame it on those old school action movies Intak loved so much, but you were convinced that you would be in a race against time, that you would need to run and jump and use your non-existent muscles to get through some hidden back door.

Walking up to the front door with confident strides and opening the huge lock with a key was oddly anticlimactic. You had to pinch your arm to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

‘How the hell did you put your hands on that thing?’ Keeho asked, stealing the words out of your mouth.

Shota closed the double door behind your backs like he had just gotten home, then turned on his flashlight similar to the one in your pocket. You mimicked him and turned on yours, too.

‘I asked for a copy? Don’t you know acting suspicious is what makes people aware you’re up to something?’ He asked, not really expecting an answer based on the way he turned his back on your small group and started to walk down the hallway. ‘It’s all about confidence.’

You put your hand on Keeho’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly as a reminder that you didn’t have time for further interrogation nor was it the most suitable place for a parental scolding, then followed your best friend until you reached the first intersection. There, you waited for the others to catch up with you and you decided to split up. You didn’t have all the time in the world after all, only two hours until the next error in the system of the graveyard shift.

‘I’ll check the basement,’ you volunteered and shook your head dismissively when you saw Jiung open his mouth from the corner of your eyes. ‘Keeho’s babysitting, there are too many floors for just two groups,’ you said, slowly turning towards the blond boy with your entire body.

‘Who said I was about to follow you?’ He retorted with a huff and took the flashlight out of Keeho’s hand as he turned on his heels and marched up the stairs. You kept your eyes on his back until he disappeared, then shot a tight-lipped smile in the others’ direction before you made them promise to take pictures of anything suspicious or interesting-looking.

You hoped Jiung would do the same as well even though he hadn’t waited around for your reminder. You had faith in Shota and his dubious network, you really did, but you genuinely doubted you would have had another chance like this in the near future if you had failed to gather enough evidence due to your slipshod job.

On your way to the basement, you kept your mind occupied with random songs from the last decade they still played on the radio just so it wouldn’t have turned on you and made you see things in the darkness that weren’t there. Your imagination might not have been too wild, but being alone in a building where you assumed poor people had been killed for how much their organs were worth was scary. You didn’t believe in ghosts and other supernatural creatures, but you wouldn’t have blamed their souls for sticking around, angry, if they had existed.

The dust in the air was heavy and it stuck to your skin uncomfortably as you checked each and every door that opened from the hallway underground. Most of the rooms were unlocked, the surgical equipment inside of them outdated and untouched. A part of you - the same part that was convinced of Kang Yohan’s innocence - was eager to see them as evidence of human experiments, but the rational side of you was aware that things like these were normal at a medical facility. If you had shown photos of these to anyone, they would have focused on the fact that you shouldn’t have been in the building.

You gulped, growing frustrated, as you checked the time on your phone and walked up to the next door. You still had some time.

Admittedly, you knew you could have spent an entire day in the building and still felt like you needed more to do a thorough research, but beggars couldn’t have been choosers. Thus, you locked your panicking thoughts in the back of your mind and opened the drawers in the next room that looked more like an abandoned office than a medical room.

‘Come on!’ You groaned when you found the third drawer in a row empty, getting on your knees without much thinking to force the last one open as well. At first glance, it didn’t seem like you should have had a key to open it, so you hoped it was only stuck, preferably due to the weight of the papers inside of it.

Two of your nails broke in the process and your fingertips were burning, but eventually you managed to open the lowest drawer, its content plenty and full of names you weren’t familiar with. However, you did recognise one: Heo Joongse. He had been one of the “victims” of the explosion that had killed Kang Yohan. He had been the former president of South Korea.

Hands shaking nervously, you started to take pictures of the documents, but because of the lack of proper lighting, they turned out to be unreadable. Therefore you shoved them under your sweatshirt on a whim.

‘Noona! Noona, it’s time to go!’ You heard your best friend calling for you and you stilled, contemplating whether you should have pretended that you hadn’t heard him and checked one more room or let him know where you were. He must have calculated with finding you, he knew how you got when you… ‘Noona, we have to get out of here!’

You closed your eyes and let out a displeased sigh. You should have met them upstairs, close to the front door. If Shota was in the basement, it meant you hardly had any minute to waste. Even if the digital numbers in the upper right corner of your phone’s screen said otherwise.

‘I’m coming!’ You shouted on your way to the hallway, giving a resigned look to the rest of the basement, to all those closed doors you hadn’t had a chance to open, then ran towards Shota’s voice. It came from the stairs that led to the ground floor.

The question of what had happened that you needed to leave twenty minutes sooner was on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t have a chance to say it aloud. The moment you opened your mouth, your best friend grabbed your wrist and pulled you in the opposite direction from the main entrance, confusion making you uncharacteristically obedient and unresponsive.

You didn’t question him when he shoved you inside a dirty restroom, nor did you ask a single thing when Keeho emerged from one of the toilet cubicles. You simply let the older boy take the lead and help with your balance when you stepped on top of a half-broken plastic toilet lid that was supposed to support your weight and made you tall enough to reach the edge of the open window on the tiled wall.

‘You really think I can…’ pull myself up; you wanted to ask, but before you could have finished your question, someone grabbed your arms from the outside and got you out of the building with one swift movement.

With a scream stuck in the back of your throat, you looked down at Jiung with slightly parted lips and gulped nervously when your gaze fell on your palm atop of his chest. You swore, you could feel his heart beating like crazy under your palm, your own mimicking the rhythm and pushing enough blood to your neck and cheeks to turn them ruby red.

‘Get up! We’re running out of time.’ It was Shota whose voice pulled you back to the present, but you were sure, even without stealing a glance at the boy on your right, that it was Keeho who pulled you off Jiung and pulled you towards the iron fences.

You stumbled in the dark, unaware of when you had lost your flashlight and whether the guys had turned theirs off on purpose. By the time your friends deemed that you were far enough from the facility, your lungs were screaming for a break and every breath felt like you were inhaling pieces of broken glass.

‘What the hell happened?’ You demanded, even though it seemed you were the only one who thought your frustration and anger were justified.

‘That your stupid obsession almost got us in trouble, that’s what happened,’ Jiung screamed at your face, a few drops of saliva landing on your burning cheek due to your close proximity. You balled up your fists, your knuckles turning white from how hard you clenched them.

‘Shota said it was safe! And I don’t remember asking you to join us,’ you retorted as calmly as you could manage with the growing annoyance you were feeling.

Sure, you knew trespassing had been a gamble, that you had been going against everything you believed in just to prove a point, but you had done nothing inside that damned building that could have put everyone in danger. Whatever had happened it hadn’t been on you, you refused to believe it.

‘It was the USB. We found a bunch of them in one of the offices, but one of them was still plugged into a smashed PC, so I pulled it out,’ Shota confessed at the same time Keeho said:

‘I think I broke a lock I shouldn’t have.’

You closed your eyes, heaving. Honestly, the second option sounded more possible, but you felt like stating the obvious or calling Jiung out on his freaking tendency to put the blame on you would have done more harm than good. The atmosphere was already tense, making it worse while you were still relatively close to the crime scene would have been stupid.

‘It’s okay, it doesn’t matter,’ you concluded because crying over spilled milk would have been just as idiotic. You had gotten in and out without encountering any of the guards, no one had known your faces, your identities were safe. You might have felt bitter about leaving so soon, but at the end of the day, you were all unharmed and that was what mattered.

You straightened your back and opened your eyes.

‘Let’s go home,’ you exclaimed and shot a genuine smile in Shota’s direction to soothe the guilt that was written all over his face.

When Jiung bumped into your shoulder on purpose, you gritted your teeth, but followed him towards the main road. You decided not to ask him whether he had found anything useful as you were sure he wouldn’t have told you even if he had done, and pointed at your tummy with a mischievous wink when Shota did the same with his pockets where he hid the old USB sticks.

You might not have been able to check everything you had wanted, but your mission hadn’t been a complete failure, after all. And that… that sure as hell made you feel like you had accomplished something.

A couple of days later, you were in the university library, working on your assignment on the live court show’s effects on the judicial system and the shift of responsibility the DIKE app had contributed to when citizens had been given the power to decide the defendants were guilty or not guilty, when Choi Jiung walked up to your table and shut down your laptop with a fixed combination of keys. To say you were furious would have been an understatement. You were livid.

‘Do you want to die? The hell is wrong with you?’ You spat, pushing yourself into a standing position in an attempt to look more intimidating despite still being significantly shorter than the boy. It didn’t matter. Anger could take people farther than one would have thought.

Instead of answering your question with words, Jiung threw a small pile of papers on your desk. You looked down at it with narrowed eyes before you took it in your hand. There was no need for you to scan through the provocatively phrased paragraphs. Just by looking at the header, you knew it was your thesis abstract.

‘Where did you get this?’ You asked, trying not to wrinkle the document in case it was indeed the original copy that you had put on your professor’s table in the teachers’ office after your last class.

‘Do you want to die?’ He threw the question back at you, his tone just as angry as yours even though the flames in his eyes burned with a different colour. He seemed a lot more serious rather than borderline panicking. His reaction closed up your throat, but you kept your chin high to prove a point. ‘I’m serious! You can’t be this stupid, can you?’

You took a shallow breath, then another one and another one for good measure before you crouched down for your bag and shoved your laptop inside of it.

‘You saw that place. They’re guarding it for a reason. Even if you really didn’t find anything on the first floor…’ You took another breath to calm yourself. You still had time before your next class, so you could put the abstract back on your professor’s desk like Jiung had never put his hands on it.

‘You can’t become a judge with this mindset. It’s anti-nationalist,’ he pressed, stopping you with his fingers hanging around your wrist like a chain. You shook it off, his rough touch, and turned around to look him in the eyes.

‘I’m ashamed of you. People like you should never be allowed to become a judge in the first place,’ you said, quiet enough to not draw anyone’s attention, but loud enough to hurt.

You meant it: every word. Those people who deliberately turned a blind eye on the flaws in the stories the system tried to feed you with, on the government’s wrongdoings just because it was easier, shouldn’t have been given power to decide who deserved a severe punishment for breaking the law and who acted upon self-preservation. 

The two of you kept eye contact for longer than it was necessary, therefore you were about to turn your back on Jiung when you got a text via kakao. With furrowed eyebrows, you fished the device out of your pocket and checked the incoming messages.

shota 😤: “don’t come home!” shota 😤: “i’m serious” shota 😤: “stay with the hyungs”

The urgency in his double texts made you feel alarmed, so you sent a quick message to both Shota and Keeho, then threw your phone into your bag and rushed out of the library.

There was no way you would let your best friend deal with whatever trouble he was in on his own when you had a good guess where he was and it was clearly too big for him to handle it alone.

Jiung tried not to think too much into it when you didn’t show up at class the day after you had stormed out of the library. He really tried not to panic when he couldn’t see you at any of your favourite places around campus, although he was familiar with your schedule and habits: when you preferred the university library over the coffee shop, which classes you would have never skipped for the world and how many papers you had to submit before the upcoming midterms.

It wasn’t unusual that you didn’t pick up the phone to him, so he didn’t even bother after the first futile attempt, aware of the line he had crossed when he had taken your thesis abstract that he shouldn’t have even read, but when even Soul refused to read his messages, he knew something was off. The boy would have never ignored his hyungs just because he might have taken your side. At least, he had never done so before and god, the younger sided with you almost all the time.

Lacking any better idea, Jiung dialled Keeho’s number, letting out a relieved breath when the older picked up the phone after the second ring.

‘Have you heard from Soul? His bestie hasn’t shown up at uni since last week,’ he started without beating around the bush, too frustrated (and worried) to prolong the conversation. He wanted to know that you were both okay and his worst nightmare hadn’t come true despite your stubbornness.

Had you gotten in trouble with the authorities because of your big mouth? Who had you been texting to before you had turned your back on him?

‘Not since last week. He said he would be out of town for a couple of days,’ Keeho answered. ‘Same for the firecracker. She texted that she’s worried about Shota, but then she claimed everything was fine, so I didn’t ask,’ he explained, not going into too much detail about why he hadn’t pushed when he was so overprotective of the babies of their group. Jiung knew the older boy was balancing two jobs to provide for not only himself, but Jongseob, too. Life was tough ever since the youngest had run away from home.

If you had told Keeho things were okay, Jiung understood why he had chosen to believe you and stay at his workplace or steal himself an hour of extra sleep.

‘Did he say where he was going?’ Jiung asked, wondering whether he was overreacting or the nagging voice inside of his head was right about you. Even if he doubted you considered him as a friend, he would have liked to believe that he knew the core of your personality. There was no way you would have deliberately ditched your studies when you had worked so hard to get accepted on scholarship.

‘No,’ came the answer after a momentary break, silence filled with pangs of distress. ‘Why?’

‘I’m not sure, but I have a bad feeling about this. I’ll go and check their place,’ Jiung said, checking his timetable and deciding against showing up at his last class as it wasn’t a seminar and most importantly, it wasn’t a lecture he was sharing with you.

‘Now?’

‘Now,’ he nodded out of habit as he threw the strap of his messenger bag over his head and put on his cap.

‘I’ll be there in an hour. Wait for me!’ Keeho asked and Jiung let out a loud, affirmative hum before he hung up the phone.

The blond boy didn’t waste any time. He called a cab with his kakao app and asked the driver to drive as fast as he could once he got inside the car. He promised to double the fare if the old man got to your place in under an hour (which would have been an achievement in itself in the afternoon traffic).

‘We have arrived, mister,’ the taxi driver announced and Jiung indeed paid plenty before he jumped out of the car and rushed upstairs. He had only ever been to your place once, when it had been your birthday in freshman year of uni and Soul had organised you a surprise party with your favourite strawberry cake and a second-hand laptop for your studies. Jiung couldn’t remember anymore what he had bought for you. Had he even bought you anything? 

He shook his head. That wasn’t important at that moment. Making sure you were alright and simply avoiding him was.

The first alarming sign was how easy it was to get inside your flat: all Jiung needed to do was push down the handle and the door was open. He didn’t need a key, a keycard or a passcode. His heart sank into his stomach when he crossed the threshold.

Jiung needed to bite into his lips to not make the mistake most people made on tv whenever they found themselves in a similar situation. Because as ridiculous as it sounded, his first instinct was to call for your name and announce his arrival, which would have been stupid. What if someone was here? He really shouldn’t have done that.

So he didn’t. Instead, he took off his shoes and checked every room as silently as possible until he made sure he was alone. Then, he started to go through your stuff systematically: skimming your mails, searching through your drawers and desk, rummaging your bathroom while simultaneously trying to not invade your privacy and finding clues about where you had been and what had happened. He was in the middle of looking for hidden compartments in your walls when Keeho arrived.

‘Is anyone here?’ The older boy asked, coaxing an unamused scoff out of Jiung with his loud question. Of course, he was acting like every idiot in a horror movie who was about to die.

‘Bedroom,’ Jiung grumbled, keeping his focus on the task in hand. He vaguely remembered Soul bragging about the coolest compartments he had installed in both of your flats, so that you could have hid your cash there and never gotten robbed. They had to be big enough to store a handful of stolen USB sticks. If only he could have known for sure there was nothing on them that would want dangerous people to make you disappear.

‘What happened here?’ Keeho asked, clearly taken aback by the state of your room.

Jiung didn’t bother to look around. He knew damn well the disaster he had left behind when he had started to get more and more frustrated, too impatient to put everything back to its place when they hadn’t given him the answers he was looking for.

‘The kimbap in her fridge went wrong days ago. She wouldn’t have left it there if she’d had a choice,’ the blond boy stated and it was ridiculous really, how sure he was in certain things when it came to you. But he just knew. He had caught you eating food you didn’t enjoy just because you had already paid for it or it had been for free. Even if you had been in a hurry, you wouldn’t have left it there to rot.

‘You sound pretty paranoid. And worried,’ Keeho commented, but walked up to your bedside table without much questioning and moved it aside. Then, he knocked on the beige wall a few times, gaining Jiung’s attention when suddenly, the thud gave a different sound.

Jiung crawled towards the bed on his hands and knees, reaching for the content of the hidden compartment once his friend opened it with ease that showed he knew exactly what he was doing. In small stacks, there were a couple of 5000 and 10000 won bills, less in total than the amount of Jiung’s allowance had gotten regularly in middle school.

Jiung’s throat closed up when his eyes fell on the custom-made keychain he had forgotten a long time ago, the one he had given you for your birthday and the one that sat on top of a pile of dirty papers. He took it into his hand and shoved it into his pocket before he skimmed the documents. On each page, they had the Dream House’s stamp on their upper left corners, which meant you might have found these in the facility’s basement.

Damnit! You had never mentioned you had found something that night, let alone something that looked like trouble.

‘What do they say?’ Keeho’s question came from Jiung’s right, your worn bed cracking under the older boy’s weight. 

‘At first glance? That they are lucky if they’re in the countryside,’ the younger answered, his heart rate picking up because of the dreadful pictures his brain was throwing at him about you and Soul behind bars, the two of you in separate interrogation rooms, powerful people trying to break you to turn against each other.

Jiung looked around in search of his backpack, then stood up and lifted it off the floor, so that he could shove the documents between two books he had been supposed to take back to the university library. They didn’t matter anymore. You and Soul did.

‘Where are you going?’ Keeho asked, and while Jiung had a concrete destination in mind, he was contemplating whether he should have told the other the whole truth. Keeho hadn’t seen the late president’s name on the documents yet and while Jiung would have also needed more time to figure out what you had gotten yourself into exactly, he had a vague idea. He didn’t want to put his friend in more danger in case he was right.

On the other hand, he was aware how important Soul was to Keeho. Obviously, the older boy cared about each one of his close friends, even people he deemed honest and kind, but Soul was like a brother to him. If Jiung had been in his shoes, he would have resented whoever kept secrets this serious from him.

‘I’ll ask Jiseong if he heard anything,’ he settled for the truth, albeit giving a curt answer. He would cross that bridge when he got there. For the time being, he didn’t want to complicate things even more. Not to mention that his step-brother would have scolded him and might have outright refused to tell him any details if he had shown up at his office with someone who had nothing to do with their family or their social circle.

After meeting you, Jiung had started to question whether he was able to read other people as well as his family expected him to, but recognizing the fine mixture of doubt, hurt and worry in Keeho’s eyes was too easy.

‘You will call me,’ the words came out pseudo-commanding, like the boy knew no objection, but Jiung noticed the pinch of uncertainty that made Keeho’s voice crack by the end, turning the statement into a semi-question. He didn’t call him out on his lack of faith in his character, mostly because Jiung himself was unsure of numerous things, too, regarding the situation.

Therefore, he settled for a nod instead of a verbal promise and left the building. The papers in his backpack felt heavy, like rocks that were trying to pull him underwater, but nothing could have compared to the weight of the abandoned keychain in his pocket that you, for some reason, had kept at the same place you kept your treasures.

After a failed attempt at the District Court, Jiung decided to wait for his step-brother at his home office, which was basically a separate room on the second floor in their house, between their parents’ offices and across from his own study room. Aware of the importance of respect and good manners even when one wasn’t out in public, he knocked on the mahogany door and counted to three, seven, ten, before he entered.

Since the boy’s plan was to ask a few questions from his hyung about the Dream House Medical Centre and whether there had been any attempts at breaking into the abandoned building in the last couple of years - the more general his curiosity appeared to be, the safer for you and Soul -, he decided to jot down every aspect he needed to touch upon and tried to make the inquiries sound as academic and neutral as possible while he was waiting. A written list could have helped him make it look like he was working on an assignment of some sort.

Taking a seat by the massive desk in the left corner of the room, Jiung pulled out the upper drawer, looking for a piece of paper. He knew it was a little old-fashioned, that he could have taken notes on his phone as well, but there was something about a piece of blank paper that stimulated his brain. Thoughts and ideas came easier when he could feel the material against the mounts of his palm and the weight of the pen in his hand.

Jiung didn’t intend to pry. Why would he have? He had been raised to trust his family above everyone and everything and put his faith in the system blindly as his relatives had important roles in it for generations. However, it was undeniable that it was your thesis abstract staring back at him from the top of a smaller pile of papers in Jiseong’s drawer. Jiung needed to take it into his hands.

He didn’t have to read through the lines to make sure the paragraphs had been written by you. Even though your name was crossed out with a black marker, he knew it was yours. He had read your abstract before. God! He had told you it would have gotten you in trouble. He had just never assumed that his hyung would have also been involved in this mess somehow.

Desperate to not jump to false conclusions, Jiung put the document back into the drawer and closed it carefully. He leaned the back of his head against the chair and closed his eyes, trying to even his breathing. He couldn’t have allowed himself to act suspicious or else his brother would have kicked him out of his office before he could have uttered a single word.

‘What are you doing here?’ Jiseong’s thunderous voice filled the room, pulling the blond boy out of his messy thoughts. Jiung snapped his head in his brother’s direction, resisting the urge to gulp down the nervous knot in his throat or put on a fake smile.

‘Homework,’ he explained with his fidgety fingers clenched into fists and hidden under the desk. He needed to stop thinking about your abstract in the drawer and how it could have gotten there for not only his own sake, but yours and Soul’s as well. He had never been a man of emotions, he couldn’t have allowed to become one in such a delicate situation. ‘I mean, I need some answers I couldn’t find on the internet, nor in any of the books in the uni library,’ he added when his answer met with silence, putting effort into relaxing his tense muscles.

‘I see,’ Jiseong muttered, not taking his hawk eyes off his younger brother while he walked closer to the desk and along with it, to Jiung. The young man’s arms were crossed in front of his chest; his tailored suit devoid of any wrinkles. ‘Ask away then.’

Jiung wished he had had more time to prepare himself for this conversation. Sure, the boy had wanted to get over with the interrogation as soon as possible when he had decided to seek his hyung out right after he had left your flat, but that had been before he had found your thesis abstract. With this new discovery, he felt unprepared.

‘It’s common knowledge that the Dream House has been abandoned since judge Kang Yohan tried to use it to overthrow the government,’ he started with a well-known statement to steal himself a couple of more seconds. He usually used this method during presentations because talking about things he was certain about did wonders to his jittery nerves, but this time, the academic tone had no positive effect. The lingering uncertainty poisoned his confidence. ‘It’s heavily guarded, though. Why?’

‘Use your brain, Jiung-ah. Why do you think it needs to be guarded up to this day?’ The man asked in a chastising tone. It reminded Jiung of school breaks in the countryside that they had spent with their grandparents. It reminded Jiung of summer days when he had falsely thought he could have acted his age without unpleasant consequences.

He frowned, but gave a serious thought to the question and answered with his chin held high.

‘So people wouldn’t break in,’ he chose, because even before breaking into the Dream House and rummaging through the first floor, he had doubted there had been something or someone kept in there that could have escaped. Which could have only meant that the government wanted to keep people from entering.

‘And?’

Jiung furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, wondering whether his brother knew he had been there, inside the medical centre, when you had put your hands on those documents. Was there a specific answer Jiseong was expecting from him? Or should he have played it safe and pretended he didn’t know about the late president’s involvement in something that had gotten you in so much trouble, you and Soul had disappeared off the face of Earth?

‘There are people in our country who believe Kang Yohan was some sort of saint who wanted to protect the powerless from corruption even though he couldn’t have cared less about the poor and unprivileged,’ the young judge stated, destroying the remaining distance between himself and his brother. Jiseong put his palms on his desk and leaned closer to Jiung with a predatory glint in his hazel eyes. Like he was staring at a pitiful prey instead of someone he had to treasure and protect. ‘It’s guarded, so those with anti-nationalist ideas wouldn’t turn it into their own sacred place,’ he said, forcing the younger to hold his breath and listen. ‘They would crowd it. It would give them a place with meaning for gatherings and suddenly, their preaching would gain more credibility.’

At that moment, as he was staring at his step-brother, the blond boy couldn’t help but think of you and your reaction whenever he had said something to defend the system. He wondered whether he had sounded just as biassed and inimical to you as Jiseong did to him while he was talking about faceless people and their hypothetical actions when they hadn’t committed said crime yet.

He wondered whether the fact that he added that harmless “yet” at the end of the sentence in his head meant he was indeed the same.

‘Has anyone ever broken into that building?’ Jiung asked partly to cut the tension that grew with the silence, partly to check the credibility of his hyung’s words.

Jiseong took his hands off the desk and straightened his back. He shot a small smile in Jiung’s way and shook his head.

‘Never. Like you said, it’s heavily guarded. You have nothing to be worried about,’ he said, slowly loosing his necktie, piercing gaze poking holes into the skin between the younger’s eyes. ‘Any other questions?’

There were. Jiung had plenty of questions starting with why was your abstract in his drawer, what had they done to you and Soul, whether you two had been the first ones who had been dealt with this drastically or there were others, people who had no connection to people like Jiung who came from an influential family. However, putting these thoughts in words would have done more harm than good and Jiung wasn’t an idiot. He might have doubted Jiseong would have been able to make him disappear or it was really him who had been behind all of this, but Jiung knew he wasn’t untouchable.

‘No, nothing. Thanks,’ so he said and stood up from the chair as casually as he could manage before he bent down and picked up his backpack from the floor. He bowed to his brother like he always did when he was greeting his family members or saying goodbye to them, then straightened his back and waited to be dismissed, showing respect to his elder as he had been taught.

‘Go, wash up! It’s almost dinner time,’ Jiseong said and patted his brother’s shoulder once, twice, three times, before he turned his back on Jiung.

The younger didn’t hesitate to leave the room afterwards.

The thing was, whether his step-brother knew that Jiung had broken into the Dream House with you and the boys or not, Jiseong had lied to him. He also had your thesis abstract, the very same document Jiung had given back to you the day he had last seen you, which was more than a little concerning. Therefore, despite his own beliefs, Jiung needed to figure out what was going on and how deep his hyung was in the mess you had also gotten yourself and Soul into.

He needed to know you two were okay. The sooner, the better.

If anyone had caught the boy sneaking into his brother’s home office instead of attending his classes, Jiung would have been cursed out, then dragged into his room and locked up for several weeks. He knew because he had been driven to school and back home for a whole month in high school when his father had found out that he had drunk a beer with his friend in public despite being underaged. They had done it at a park where they had thought no one had been paying any mind to them, but they had been dead wrong as his then-friend’s mother had sent one of her secretaries to keep an eye on her son and they had gotten caught before they could have decided whether they had wanted to open the second can. The tension at home after that had been so messed up, Jiung hadn’t dared to break any rules for years.

That was, until he had met you.

Rummaging through Jiseong’s drawers turned out to be fruitless. Other than stationeries and a bunch of files about ongoing cases at the court, there was nothing to put his hands on, which was weird. Why wasn’t your paper in the upper drawer anymore?

Kneeling on the floor, Jiung leaned his forehead against the edge of the desk and closed his eyes. Looking through his hyung’s things was one thing. Should he have really logged into his computer, too? That sounded too extreme, but then again. The boy had already trespassed on government property just to keep an eye on you and make sure you were fine. He could have always claimed he needed Jiseong’s laptop for whatever excuse his mind would have provided at the time of need.

Letting out a troubled sigh, Jiung could hear your last words to him ringing in his ears. If he had decided to turn a blind eye on the weird happenings now, he would have turned into what you had hated the most in people like him. People with the proper background to make a real difference, but no desire to change what was wrong. He might have refused to believe you had been right about everything, nor did he think he was a bad person just because his values and beliefs were different from yours, but he couldn’t have lied to himself. Something about the Dream House project was fishy.

So Jiung sat on the chair and turned on the computer before he could have lost his courage. He checked every folder and every file systematically, then opened Jiseong’s email services and read through his mails, too. The more he saw, the less suspicious his brother appeared to be and the more guilty he felt, but it was too late to turn back. So he kept reading, until he did find something.

It was a forwarded email Jiseong had never replied to or if he had done so, he had already deleted the evidence. The original letter was a report on the break-in to the medical centre; the person claimed there had been three or four suspects, but no gender, approximate age or physical features had been stated. The first response was about the punishment of the guards who had been working that night; the second one was an ID number; the third said: it’s done. Collateral damage: one person.

Jiung’s hands were trembling slightly when in the last email attached to the conversation there was a follow-up report from his uncle. It had been sent at five in the morning, mere hours ago, and it said they were ready for shipping.

‘What the…’ he murmured under his nose, finding it hard to process that these people might have been talking about you.

Jiung deleted the search history and closed the browser. He turned off the computer and took a moment to think. Should he have visited his uncle’s researcher centre on his own or should he have told Keeho about these emails like he knew the older boy wanted him to? Should he have tried to figure out what was going on in the legal way or gone behind his uncle’s back, too, lacking spare time to waste? What had they meant by shipping anyway?

Before he left the office, Jiung took a quick look at the interior from above his shoulder, then stepped out to the hallway and fished his phone out of his pocket. He called Keeho and when it went to voicemail, he sent the older boy a cryptic text about how he needed him as soon as possible.

A rational part of Jiung was aware he needed backup, but he wouldn’t have waited hours just to hear back from his friend.

Luckily, Keeho had reached out to Jiung within an hour, hence the two boys could meet up at the 7-Eleven across from the research centre around three. If Jiung wanted to be honest, it was the worst time either of them could have picked: it wasn’t close to lunch break nor did it align with anything else that could have drawn the attention from them, but he didn’t want to wait until closing time. He wanted to check every room on every floor as soon as possible in case, for some reason, you and Soul were in there.

The more he thought about it, the more this place seemed like the perfect cover-up and this thought drove him up the wall.

‘Sorry we’re late,’ a familiar voice demanded attention, followed by a loud, screeching sound as the intruder pulled out the metal chair and sat next to Jiung. Intak’s smile was too wide for the older boy’s liking, but at least it didn’t look genuine. The visible distress that blended into his friend’s cheery facial expression made Jiung feel less paranoid even though he would have gladly accepted that he was overreacting and let the guys make fun of him if that had meant you and Soul were chilling somewhere in the countryside.

‘Why are you here in the first place?’ Jiung asked, his gaze sliding from Intak to Theo who also took a seat by the table in the meantime.

‘Duh. Cause I’m the best thief you know and you’re about to break into the enemy’s lair in broad daylight?’ Intak’s question was dripping with sarcasm, his cold tone making it sound more like a statement. Jiung bit back a nasty comment about how Soul would exceed him in no time with his connections all across the city because thinking of the younger came hand in hand with thinking of you and he couldn’t have that.

Jiung put his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers. He raised a brow as he looked at Theo, the silent question why he was there hanging in the air.

At first, Theo’s response was no more than a shrug, but as the tension became palpable, he let out a defeated sigh. It was clear, he didn’t think he needed to explain himself, especially because both Soul and you were a part of their friends group.

‘Someone’ll need to stand guard.’ It wasn’t something Jiung could argue with even though he would have liked to believe that even if they had gotten caught, his connection to the head of the institute could have gotten them out of trouble. The thing was, he couldn’t say it for sure anymore and this uncertainty and his sudden lack of trust in his own blood were stressing him out. If the boy’s thoughts hadn’t returned to your disappearance every two minutes, he might have already broken down due to the revelations he had needed to face in the last twenty-four hours.

‘Cool. Now, let’s order something and talk about the plan,’ Intak proposed, earning a judging side-eye from Jiung and a frown from Keeho when he pushed his chair back, making more space for himself to be able to stand up and walk up to the counter. ‘What? You chose a café for this group meeting. It’s pretty suspicious if we don’t order anything,’ he put his weight on his palms, leaning closer to the boys over the table.

Jiung let out a scoff.

‘I’ll have one small iced cappuccino,’ Keeho broke the growing silence before he changed his mind. ‘You know what? I’m coming with you. We’ll be back in a minute.’

Instead of following his friends with his eyes, Jiung’s gaze stuck on the massive building on the other side of the road. He couldn’t not feel like in a matter of mere hours, the life he had been living would cease to exist for good. Whether because his own uncle and step-brother were parts of a mafia-like system he had been blind to all this time or because he had chosen to betray them when he had decided to paint them as the enemy, it didn’t matter. Their bond that had been built on trust would break beyond repair once Jiung broke into the research centre. It might have already done so when he had read through his hyung’s emails.

‘You won’t turn on us, will you?’ Theo’s question pulled the blond boy back to the present, his sharp eyes cutting deep into his being. He didn’t blame his friend, though, even if the assumption that he would have left them behind to save himself was offensive.

His pride could take this much.

‘I want to get them back,’ Jiung said firmly, hoping that the sincerity in his voice would be enough and Theo didn’t expect him to come up with a whole monologue about how he was ready to go against his own family and burn Seoul down to the ground to find you. Because honestly, he wasn’t ready for any of those. He wasn’t ready to face the elephant in the room.

‘And that’s what we’ll do,’ Keeho patted the blond boy’s shoulder, taking a seat next to Theo while Intak sat back on the empty metal chair on Jiung’s side. He slid a small cup of black coffee towards the younger and took a sip from his mint choco frappé.

‘Which part of the building we want to infiltrate first?’ Intak asked and Jiung also let out an amused laugh when he saw the other boy fishing out a worn laptop from his backpack. Neat, serious and responsible weren’t adjectives Jiung would have ever used to describe his hyung, but he sure took this job seriously. It was actually pretty impressive.

‘The sixth floor and the basement. You need a special keycard to get to both or the elevator won’t start,’ Jiung said, going into more details about the security system although his knowledge was very limited. He had been in the research centre only twice and both times he had been left with his father’s secretary in the canteen while his father and uncle had been talking about business.

The soft clatter of the keyboard filled the air and embraced Jiung with its normality; he took a sip from his coffee and let the warmth spread in his body. He might have hated the thought of his friends getting in trouble because of his fixation on your sudden disappearance, but a selfish part of him found solace in their presence. He wasn’t alone.

‘Okay guys, we’ll do it this way,’ Intak spoke up after a couple of mumbled swear words and a delighted hum that reverberated through all of them. He pushed the laptop further from himself so that everyone could take a look at the screen, then pointed at the live footage of one of the security cameras inside the building. ‘Based on their social media posts and public appearances, these two researchers are the easiest to lead on. Out of the two, this one here, Dr. Kim Ryeowook is the one who possesses one of the six magic cards to the elevator.’

‘You figured these all out, skimming through a few Facebook posts?’ Jiung raised a brow and it was actually Theo who shook his head first, reaching out to the laptop and clicking on the tab next to the one everyone was staring at.

‘Actually, it’s a text analysis software we still need to work on with Beomgyu for one of our classes. Once it’s finished, it’ll help people make decisions, like solving complex problems for them, based on the imported information,’ he explained, slapping Intak’s hands away so that he could check the accuracy of the information.

‘Oh, okay! That’s cool,’ Jiung nodded to himself, letting the guy overwrite what he needed to overwrite before he confirmed the prediction.

Dr. Kim Ryeowook. The man was currently walking down the hallway on the second floor. If they were lucky, they could snatch his keycard and sneak it back into his coat’s oversized pocket before his shift ended around six.

Jiung’s heart was about to explode when the elevator’s doors closed behind their back and he caught sight of the sterile interior of the sixth floor. As they were running low on time, he was only with Keeho while Intak searched through the basement, his humming deafening even from the other side of the call that kept them connected.

‘Could you please focus? Look for papers, anything about shipping can be important,’ Jiung scolded his friend while they walked down the eerie hallways that led from the elevator to the laboratories. Although they were both dressed in the white coats of the researchers’ uniform, the boy couldn’t have said he felt disguised enough. In fact! He felt as though they were both sticking out like sore thumbs. They were walking too slowly, the caution in their steps almost alarming.

‘I don’t know about you, guys, but I don’t think they’re storing papers in here,’ Intak’s voice sounded almost pained before his words got replaced by a very forced, very loud coughing fit. Jiung furrowed his eyebrows and exchanged a glance with Keeho.

‘What are yo—’

‘Fuck! Is this a freaking liver?’ Intak asked in terror, his question tugging on Jiung’s insides forcefully, making him nauseas. Because while it was a known fact that the employees at his uncle’s research centre were looking for ways to cure incurable diseases, Jiung would have never thought their vaccines and experimental medicines were tested on human organs. Sure, it must have been less cruel than testing them on living, breathing people, but the method still sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

Looking at Keeho and listening to Intak’s uneven breathing, his friends had to be of the same opinion.

‘Guys, some of the organs have the same set of numbers…’ Intak didn’t have to finish the sentence, it was obvious what that meant. Yet, he still forced the words out. ‘I think they belonged to the same person. Livers, kidneys, hearts. The list is endless,’ he said.

Jiung hadn’t realised he was shaking until Keeho wrapped his fingers around his wrist and stopped the uncontrollable trembling of his left arm.

‘Don’t touch anything. Take pictures if you can, but stay alert,’ Keeho instructed, then pulled Jiung forwards.

The two picked up their pace and walked down the hallway with purpose in each one of their steps. When they reached the first door on the left side, Jiung reached for the handle with his sweater paw covering his hand, then pushed it down so that they could enter.

Inside, there were two dozens of hospital beds, unconscious people tied to the meal structure of the furniture, high-tech machines monitoring their vitals. It shouldn’t have been as scary as it felt with the eerie silence filling the atmosphere.

‘Do you thin—’

Jiung didn’t let Keeho finish his question. He had to stay focused; if the older boy had asked him whether you and Soul were in one of these rooms, in one of these beds, his thoughts would have tried to come up with an answer and ended up being all over the place.

‘I’ll check the beds on the left,’ the blond boy volunteered, simultaneously praying that you weren’t one of these people and that you were here so he could get you out of here.

Jiung’s movements were frantic by the time he got to the last patient - victim? - at the end of the row without being able to touch you. He snapped his head towards Keeho who was taking pictures of the sick, fighting his frustrated tears, in hope of good news.

Neither of you was in the room. Or in the next one, or in the third.

‘I found him! Jiung, quick!’ Keeho exclaimed, his hands already working on detaching the machine from Soul’s fragile body. Jiung could taste bile in his mouth when he saw the bloody dressing around the pale boy’s torso. He couldn’t see the wound and he had never been particularly good at Biology, but he had a faint idea that the red line across the textile was somewhere around his friend’s right kidney.  

‘Hy-hyung,’ Soul mumbled weakly, his half-lidded eyes barely open and his lips a mixture of lilac and blue as his head fell on Keeho’s shoulder. It took everything in Jiung to not throw his million questions at him about you and his family members like a spoiled child.

‘It’s okay. We’ll get you out of here. You’re safe now,’ the older boy whispered against the boy’s temple, then looked around, searching for something. Jiung couldn’t stop thinking of… ‘That wheelchair! Jiung-ah, we need to put Shota into that wheelchair.’

The urgency in Keeho’s voice pulled Jiung back to the present and he rushed to the other side of the room to get one of the wheelchairs for Soul. Keeho was right, there was no way they could have sneaked their friend out of the research centre when he was in a half-unconscious state. A patient in a wheelchair might have been a tad less suspicious than a lax body hanging from their shoulder. Though, a voice in the back of his mind said neither was a common sight in the building.

Jiung’s entire body tensed up when Intak dropped the phone on the other side of the call. The younger’s curses and his desperate ‘No, no, no!’ froze his blood even though Intak’s voice was barely above a whisper due to the sudden distance between him and the electronic device.

Contemplating whether he should have helped Keeho with Soul or pleaded Intak to give them an explanation of what was going on in the basement, Jiung let out a frustrated sigh while he was keeping the wheelchair in place.

‘Intak! Intak! What’s wrong?’ Jiung tried to gain the boy’s attention, but it wasn’t working. So they exchanged a worried glance with Keeho and came up with a plan: they checked the last room on the sixth floor, then the older got Soul out of the building while Jiung went down the basement to collect their friend (and whatever he might have found or encountered with).

Jiung hoped it wasn’t one of the security guards who had caught him red-handed, but if it had been, he was Intak’s best chance to get out of trouble. And that was the least he could do for his friend as without him, they might have never gotten to Soul.

The thought that he might have been facing his uncle’s rage at any moment should have been more terrifying. Jiung had no doubt about it that under different circumstances, mere weeks ago, he would have shitted his pants from the presumption that he had messed up so bad, the old man needed to be involved in the situation. But as he was running in search of his friend, passing by shelves full of glass containers and what not, he feared whatever triggered Intak’s uncharacteristic reaction the most.

It didn’t take long for Jiung to find the room with the open door. On the contrary, it became pretty easy once he got within hearing range, because Intak’s painful wailing echoed off the walls and surrounded him on the empty corridor.

Trying to regulate his nerves, the first thing Jiung noticed when he crossed the threshold was how the room was slightly colder than the rest of the basement he had raced through. Then, the sour and irritating smell of vomit and formaldehyde.

‘Intak.’ Jiung crouched down in front of the younger boy, cupping his face with his own, trembling hands, so that the boy could take notice of his presence. He had never been particularly good at comforting others, but he had seen Keeho do it to the boys enough times to have a vague idea about what he should have done.

Jiung pulled his friend’s snotty and tear-stained face against his chest and patted his blade bones gently, for a calming rhythm. Meanwhile, he looked around the room with his chin resting on top of Intak’s head, trying to figure out what could have happened.

‘She… she’s… no-hoh,’ Intak cried out desperately as he grabbed Jiung’s arm and held onto him stronger, body shaking from the threat of another pile of bile-filled vomit. Jiung looked down at the boy and closed his eyes. Should he have reminded him that they had to leave the basement soon? Should he have asked for answers?

Keeho would have rocked him back and forth until he calmed down, but Jiung was afraid they didn’t have enough time.

‘Intak, we need to leave. The keycard, we…’ The rest of the words stuck in Jiung’s throat when Intak pushed him away aggressively, shaking his head and screaming frantically as though the blond boy said something unforgivable.

‘We, no! We have to… we need to! No!’ He protested, crawling backwards on his hands and feet until his head crashed against an open compartment in the wall. With bold, palm-sized characters, there was a number written on it: 0327.

Now that Jiung paid more attention to the odd-looking doors on the right side of the room, his anxiety started to pick up. He pushed himself into a standing position and walked past Intak, trying to take a better look at the inside of the compartment. It must have been the younger who had opened it, which could mean that whatever was in there had triggered his hysterical reaction.

Jiung’s brows were knitted together in confusion when he felt a hand on his ankle. He looked down at his friend, who was shaking his head, mouthing his objections so quietly, the blond boy didn’t hear a word.

He turned back towards the compartment and pulled it entirely open. The piece of white clothing that was hiding the thing underneath was as big as a comforter. Although it brought no warmth or comfort when removing it, Jiung’s gaze fell on a pile of chewed out skin. There were no bones, no organs inside the violated corpse, only damaged skin and a head with more stitches, indicating that he couldn’t have found the brain inside of the skull, either.

Jiung fell on his knees when he recognized the ghost of your features on the corpse’s face. He coughed up bile and that little food he had in his stomach before the first tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt sick.

Neither of the boys could have told how long they were cursing and crying in that room with your corpse mere centimetres from them, but at one point Intak’s ringtone overpowered their sobs and pulled them out of their heads. Although Intak was closer, it was Jiung who reached out for the abandoned device and received the call, his voice hoarse and weak that did barely a thing to alarm the caller on the other side.

‘What the hell guys! You have to get out of there! Dr. Kim is already looking for his keycard, they are on their way to the sixth floor and I’m pretty sure the basement will be the next,’ Keeho said, panic and worry evident in each one of his words.

Jiung looked at Intak, then shifted his gaze to the open compartment. A part of him knew that there was no way they could have taken your remains without throwing up at each corner on the way out, that letting the others see you like this, especially Soul, would have traumatised them for life. He was also aware that as stubborn as you were - had been -, you would have wanted him to pull himself together and get the hell out of there before those who had done this to you would have done the same with the people you cared - had cared - about.

But it was so freaking hard to leave you there or to get up from the floor.

‘Are you listening to me? Please, guys, come out! Whatever there is, it’s not worth it, please, guys, please!’ Keeho was pleading, forcing Jiung’s limbs to move.

‘We’re on our way, hyung. Stop worrying so much,’ he forced out the sassy reply to ease the older’s nerves before he hung up the call and shoved the phone into his pocket.

Considering that cleaning up their vomit wasn’t an option, Jiung didn’t bother with checking the room for potential evidence they could have left behind. On the other hand, he put the textile back on your corpse and made sure the compartment you were laying in was closed before he opened another one and took pictures of another damaged body. He didn’t have the heart to do the same to yours.

Dragging Intak out of the basement was time-consuming and by the time they reached the elevator, Jiung’s muscles were screaming for a break, but he pushed himself until they were out of the building. The boy knew that their initial plan had been to sneak the keycard back into Dr. Kim’s pocket or at least leave it at the reception desk as though someone had found it accidentally at one point of the day, but with the mess they had left in the morgue room, these kinds of details had lost their importance.

Instead, they crossed the street to get to the coffee shop’s parking lot at a speed that didn’t draw too much attention, then got in Theo’s old car and refused to talk about what they had found in the basement until they got somewhere safe in the outskirts of Seoul.

The shocking news of your death lingered around the boys like smoke: sickening, ugly, bad. They couldn’t get rid of it and it threatened their health, especially Soul’s who refused to eat or drink anything for days despite his weak state until Keeho aggressively shoved some plain porridge down his throat.

Intak and Jiung weren’t that much better. Jiung just knew you would have lectured him for his self-harming behaviour if you had seen him skip his meals, so he forced himself to chew and gulp without the slightest care for the taste of the dishes Keeho put on the table. They could have been the saltiest, most disgusting soups and porridges of his life, the boy wouldn’t have noticed.

Although they didn’t know whom they could trust, the boys agreed on one thing: they needed to show the country, if not the world, the real faces of those monsters who led their nation since the first wave of the pandemic. They had to make people see how terrible they were, so horrible, inhuman things like this could have never happened again. 

The problem was that even when they tried to upload the pictures they had taken on the web, they got taken down almost immediately. Then, after two weeks of futile attempts at sharing the evidence with the citizens of South Korea, the news was filled with the same lie on every damned channel: a group of young people committing terrorist acts against the country.

Honestly, Jiung knew that he had burnt down all the bridges when he had chosen his friends and the truth over his family, but seeing his ID picture next to those photos that the people in power had chosen to put on display in the media was numbing. He felt too many emotions at once to distinguish any of them properly. He couldn’t even say he was angry: the word itself did no justice to the thunderstorm inside his chest.

‘We can’t give up now,’ Soul said and Jiung tore his gaze from the screen of his tablet to look at the younger. He still looked so fragile, but as he balled up his fists and opened his mouth for Keeho to feed him some soup, he finally had some colour to his cheeks.

‘We won’t,’ Jiung promised and for the first time in weeks, the silence that followed his statement didn’t drain him. If anything, this newfound determination gave them all another reason to find a way to stop this madness.

Not even twelve hours after their faces were plastered all over the capital city, a girl called Elijah reached out to Jongseob, claiming that she and her uncle had seen the photos Jiung had taken of the damaged corpse before they had gotten taken down and that they wanted to help them fight against the system. It was freaking suspicious and at first, they decided to ignore it altogether. However, when Soul pointed out that Jongseob hadn’t been at the Dream House with them, nor had he joined them when they had broken into the research centre, they talked through their options one more time.

And they decided to follow the instructions of this faceless person towards a place that was promised to be safe for them in two groups just in case it was a trap.

Jiung, Soul and Keeho were the first ones to leave the city. They took Theo’s car, saying one of them would come back for the rest of them if things were really safe, then followed the GPS signals given to them real time by this Elijah girl who hacked into its system.

‘What do you think we will find when we get there?’ Keeho asked from behind the driver’s seat, his voice low on purpose to not wake up Soul who had fallen asleep in the backseat.

Jiung shrugged.

‘Dunno. Two more hours and we’ll find out,’ he stated, looking out the window, taking in the scenery. The countryside looked so peaceful and slow from the inside of the car, but he knew it was only the illusion of obliviousness. He refused to believe that there was any place in this country that hadn’t been corrupted by the government. He knew that the outside world was just as rotten as his life was without the rose-tinted glasses he had been wearing all these years.

Shaking his head, the boy tried not to think about the last conversation he had had with you. Still, he wished he had listened to what you had been saying. He wished he had stopped you when you had turned your back on him and walked away, visibly wary. You had given him so many chances to understand. Yet, here he was, figuring out too late:

History was made by monsters dressed as saints.

the end.

[seulszn]

hey friend! would you be comfy with writing a blurb or hc for bella comofting a reader dealing with some internalized homophobia coming back to them after they come out to their family? bella seems like such a great support system and i would love to hear their words of comfort 🫶

I LOVE YOU SO

Pairing: Bella Ramsey x Reader

Sypnosis : you decided it would be a good idea to come out to your homophobic parents.

Warnings: homophobia, abuse, angst, fluff, use of the F slur (just once), supportive Bella, a happy ending.

"Mom, Dad can we talk?" You say placing your phone in your back pocket and looking at your parents who are on the couch watching TV. "Sure dear what's up" your mother says with a smile on her face that you know won't last very much longer. You felt like you have to tell them they where your parents and you felt like if you told them they would back off you and stop with the arranged dates they force you to go on.

“Ok whatever I’m gonna tell you please just promise me one thing” you ask as your mom and dad nod there heads begging for you to continue. “That you will continue to support me no matter what” you add as your parents look at each other slightly confused “we are your parents we will always support you” your father says as you sigh finally having a little weight off your shoulders you feel like this will go smoothly.

You slowly breath in and out before looking at your hand and then at your parents “ok mom dad I’m gay” you say looking at their face change. Your mother places her hands around her mouth in shock you see tears in your mothers eyes and hatred in your fathers. you didn’t know what to do so you just stood their “get out pack your things and get out” your father says pointing to the door. “What?” your father stands up and walks over to your room going through your stuff and tossing things into the hallways “I SAID PACK YOUR THINGS AND GET THE FUCK OUT!” Your father says once again. You stand their in shock “but I have nowhere to go” you add “well you should thought of that when you where out their doing unholy things!”

He’s right you should have but you didn’t you thought they would support you, you thought they would embrace you into a big hug and kiss you saying they support you. But they didn’t “Father please! Just listen” you beg grabbing ahold of him as he doesn’t listen and continues placing things into suitcases and bags. “It was that Bella girl wasn’t it? She brainwashed you didn’t she? I knew that faggot was nothing but fucking trouble.” Your mother says grabbing ahold of your shoulders. Bella your girlfriend that you loved so much it was his idea he told you that you should come out to your parents. Even though you were hesitant you still did it Bella said they will be by your side through all of it.

“My girlfriend?” You ask as your mother breaks down at your words girlfriend? “Why, why can’t you just be normal? Why must you ruin your life!” Your mother ordered expecting you to answer. You go quiet before answering “I’m not ruining my life I’m still your same old little girl, I’m just comfortable in my own skin” you say as your father laughs before looking at you “your not our daughter, our daughter would never do anything like this to us your a freak that’s what you are and I refuse to live under the same roof as a freak” your father retorted. Your heart drops at the word Freak and you start to cry. You felt nasty, like a monster maybe you were making the wrong decision all you wanted was your parents love and support but nothing came.

“I’m not a freak! Why are you guys treating me like I’m a monster?” you question as your mother places boxes and suitcases by the door. “You know I had a feeling you were gay but I pushed it into the back of my mind because I knew you could have changed. But clearly I was wrong” your mother says looking at you like you are nothing but trash “is that why you stoped Bella from coming over here? Is that why you planned all these arranged dates with people you knew I didn’t like? You did this cause your selfish not because you loved me, you lied! It brought you joy seeing me come home a crying mess because a date didn’t go well! Didn’t it?” You yell as your mother slaps you.

Your place your hand on your cheek “DON’T YOU EVER RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME!” She hissed grabbing ahold of your arm and dragging you back into your room to get more of your stuff. “I want you out and I never want you back here we will deliver the rest of your things to your girlfriends house” she says as your father crosses his arms looking at you. “Mom dad please don’t do this to me! I’m sorry I’ll do anything” you beg with tears rolling down your face. They don’t say anything “the best thing you can do is get out, don’t come back to this house, don’t contact us, don’t be anywhere around us, don’t think about us or anything you caused this, this is all your fault” your mother insisted.

You stand their in the middle of your mother and father “what- does that mean your disowning me? Your only daughter?” You ask as your mother and father nod their head. “Get out I’m done talking Y/N” your mother says massaging her temples you don’t you don’t even move. “No” you mumble. Your mom stomps over to you grabbing you by your hair dragging you across the house down the stairs and to the door and throwing you and your stuff out. “Mom please don’t do this!”

“I love you mommy please” you say trying to hug her “so? Please let go of me” she orders before dad throws a bag outside for you “leave if you aren’t off our property in five minutes we will be calling the police” she adds as she wipes away her tears. “Please don’t do this mama! I’m sorry don’t you love me?” You ask pleading as she looks at you with disgust “no not anymore” she says before closes the door on your face.

—

“BELLA PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!” you yell banging on the door. You continue until the door opens revealing your girlfriend with a smile. “Hi bab- what the hell happened?” He asks as his smile drops ushering you into the apartment. You place your stuff down before Bella grabs your face looking at you “baby what happened?” She asks once again caressing your cheeks. You don’t say anything you just cry, and fall onto Bella wanting her to hold you comfort you and she does, right on the hallway floor massaging your back and shushing you trying to calm you down. She continues until your nothing but sniffles and she hopes she can ask whats wrong without triggering something.

“Baby do you want to talk?” They ask as you nod your head not moving from Bella’s grasp afraid that if you do they will leave you. “Wanna move to the couch?” They request as you shake your head no just wanting to stay here. “Fine let me get comfortable then” he says moving his legs in a more comfortable position.

“What’s wrong dear?” Bella asks as you look at her and Bella’s heartaches at the look of you. Red puffy eyes, a swollen cheek, and dried up blood from your mother dragging you out of the house by your hair. “They- they kicked me out” you answer a little hesitant and Bella doesn’t saying anything only listens to you talk and rubs your back “I took your advice and decided to come out to them” you whispered quietly loud enough for Bella to hear you.

“And once I told them I was gay it was like a switch flickered in their brain they got violent mentally and physically, they bad mouthed you went through my room and then disowned me” you ranted as Bella pulls you in once they see tears form at the corner of your eyes “oh baby girl I’m so sorry” they comforted rubbing your back and slowly rocking you back and fourth trying to calm you down. “I’m pathetic-” Bella interrupts you not wanting you to continue that thought “your not pathetic Y/N so don’t think that” they reassure you.

“Bella it hurts it really hurts” you whimper as he nods his head kissing the corner of your eye were the tears are falling at “I know Y/N I know, but you don’t have to worry anymore ok? I’m here for you and I love you” they say as you nod your head. But you feel guilty why are you pushing this onto him?

“I’m sorry Bella” they glare at you confused “sorry why are you sorry?” They ask as you move off of him “for pushing this onto you it’s my problem not yours I should be solving this all for myself” Bella snickers before grabbing ahold of your hands “don’t feel guilty I’m your girlfriend that’s what i’m here for!” They answered as you softly smiled. Bella gets up and pulls you up with her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up yeah?” They requested moving you into his bedroom. “I don’t deserve a person like you” you mumbled as Bella hands you tissue so you can blow your nose “yes you do, stop beating yourself up I love you, I need you, and I’m so glad I’m with you so please don’t say anything like that” they say wiping the blood from your scalp.

You space off thinking about the encounter and how you no longer have parents to comfort you, love you, hug you or just be their for you. “Hey let’s take your mind off of it ok? Im gonna order some food, and we can watch a movie, and cuddle how does that sound?” They offer as you nod your head. Bella smiles before kissing you they leave the room to probably order the food leaving you alone again.

“Cookies and Cream ice cream!” They beamed handing you a tub of vegan free ice cream “I don’t have any more of yours since you ate it all so all that’s left is vegan options” they add sitting down on the edge of the bed handing you a spoon. “I was thinking about remodeling the apartment” they state stuffing their face with ice cream and staring at you “why?” You ask as Bella smiles “I mean since you basically live here now I think it would be good to just start new y’know?” They say as you grin.

“Yea that sounds good” you say as Bella gets up once again and walking out and coming back with food. “Got you your favorite Chinese restaurant that sells the vegan options” she says as you smile. You might not be vegan but you always think about Bella when it comes to eating out at places so when you found a Chinese restaurant that also has a whole vegan menu you had to bring Bella and it instantly became a favorite of yours. “Did you ask for extra broccoli and zucchini?” you ask as Bella nods her head handing you your food.

“I know your order by heart Y/N you get the same thing each time” they comment as you roll your eyes at them. “I do not” you say as Bella hands you a fork. “You do too orange chicken, beef and broccoli, chicken and zucchini, fried rice or chow mein” Bella says as you roll your eyes before looking at your plate your missing something “were is my-” “egg roll here” you snicker thanking them.

“Thank you Bella for this” you say as they nod stuffing their face with food “you're welcome baby now put on a movie” they giggle handing you the remote control. You skim through movies before stopping at your favorite “babe again? But I'm a cheerleader?” Bella groans as you grin rolling your eyes. “What its a good movie!” you spoke trying to defend yourself.

“Your lucky I love you”

Welp another request done I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing this and I hope you have good day (and keep requesting stuff) orevwa :). Ⓒ︎ bellaxellie.

[casketscratch]

I have an emergency appointment with the therapist tomorrow but fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking fuck

for real TW on csa/abuse/incest/trafficking/rage but also maybe cults? i don't even know if they count as one but just in case.

I can't lmao, like the anger and the sheer emotion that is roiling under my skin I don't know what to do with other than breathe fire and I want to hurt them, I want to hurt every single one of them right in their very souls and make them register just how much damage they did to us. And it wouldn't matter, is the fuck of it, because they all did it to each other, too. My grandpa abused his kids who abused their kids who on and on and on. And they married other people like them and it's this whole, just. Behemoth. Thing.

We remembered. Not everything. But enough. One incident that just. I need to spew, I need to go outside and howl and destroy something but I'm incapacitated with pain and muscle spasms and just you know asthma, and... And some part of us is scared of being too obvious still. Rightfully.

My cousin's "rite of passage" when he turned 13 was being given me, younger than he was, to... you know. But it was a family affair and I so hesitate to use the word cult when I don't really know, but... what's the word for cult-adjacent? For... the level of organized they were, the level of conspiracy required (like, legally), the... jesus christ, the brainwashing and conditioning we had to so carefully get through. I don't have the language for what it even technically WAS, where do you even BEGIN?

We were written out of the wills when we moved, I was told once, because it was so... we weren't supposed to get away like that, oh my god were we ever not, and there are parts so certain we are going to die because of it because they. let. our other aunt die. She's the only one we know of who ever distanced herself and got out and she died homeless and alone and no one knew for years because no one cared enough to look for her and I am just hitting a level of oh my god a lot of pieces have come together, I think.

I want their hearts. I want to sue them for everything they're worth, everything they took from me, everything they barred me from. I'm so in debt from paying for endless chronic health issues, and sometimes from paying, lol, to fly myself back to see them, haha, because the compulsion to return was so ingrained and we would basically volunteer ourselves to be re-conditioned and have it all like, strengthened, and I just.

I don't blame those parts for doing it I just can't swallow that the debt is from that, I can't do it, I can't get past the sheer fucking ocean of rage at how fucked I am because of ... the therapist hates when I attribute anything to luck bc what I want to say it was just bad luck being born to the people I was BUT THAT'S NOT IT, IS IT. They CHOSE THAT. It was ritualistic and "rites of passage" and so FUCKING DELIBERATE.

Ah, see, I get why the therapist is so frustrated with the luck thing now, lol.

Where do you even fucking begin once that dam breaks. Who the fuck would even believe us. How much did I risk telling them I remembered and not to contact me ever again. What the fuck?

They broke me to rock bottom and I clawed my way out of it with shredded fragments of a picture and I will carve their guts out with whatever tools I have. For my late aunt's sake, if nothing else. She deserved so much better.

And if I say that about her then I have to fucking own it: we deserved so much fucking better too.

[pansexual-lilychen]

Grace sexually assaulted teenage boys under mind control but yes let’s romanticize her TSC fandom because she’s ✨pretty✨

actually, she was forced (sometimes directly, sometimes indirectly) to those actions by tatiana. throughout the books it’s mentioned that grace has had no romantic interest in james and that she doesn’t want this relationship with him. in the flashbacks it’s made clear that she much rather stay friends with him, it’s even mentioned that she doesn’t mind the idea of james being in love with cordelia at all and she kept trying to break him free of the bracelet, several times before he managed to free himself - here it is important to note that everytime she returned the bracelet to jamie she was forced to do so and either her own life / safety was threatened or jesse’s.

this is a very nuanced situation and though it maybe hard to comprehend, grace was forced into this situation, in a different way from jamie, yes, but forced non the less.

now as for matthew, ive always hated that scene, but i also understand that grace felt like she had no other option and this was the first thing that came to her mind to keep matthew off her back. she was raised by tatiana in a way that she only knew her feminine charms as a weapon, literally, so that’s what she used on matthew (i imagine to her it is no different than a blade, not that it excuses anything).

again i feel like every bad thing she has done can be lead back and blamed on tatiana, or belial in some instances. she grew up in an abusive household with a mentally unstable and cruel women to “raise” her, that constantly threatened her, belittled and bullied her, not to mention groomed her to be her right hand women; and later when tatiana was temporarily out of the picture (after being attacked by a demon and later while being imprisoned) belial took over and threatened jesse’s safety.

throughout the book when grace powers are elaborated and how tatiana forced her to practice them on mundane men and then use them on james it is always stated that she does not enjoy using her powers, she sees herself as jamie’s friend and has his best interest at heart - while still trying to protect herself and her brother (again she initially didn’t even tell tatiana for that her powers didn’t work on james and tries to take back the bracelet twice to free him.). this is to me especially underlined by her interaction with christoper in chain of iron, where she knows she could let him do her bidding and force him to help her but she states clearly that she doesn’t want to do that.

i do think that the matthew situation was a little different as it wasn’t directly ordered by tatiana but rather an action that grace did on her own, but to me it is a cry for help, grace doesn’t know how to help herself unless it is through her powers so even though i do not condone that one specific action i do unterstand why she did it.

and lastly, i wanted to mention again how grace is very much a victim of her circumstances and she was forced into the relationship with james just as much as he was, only she wasn’t brainwashed. also cassandra clare very much wanted grace to be a complex character rather than just a morally good character and called her actions morally grey on several occasions.

one last thing i want to clarify: i never, ever romanticized the sexual assault any of the characters went through. i believe you, anon, wrote me this ask after i compared her to suki waterhouse. this comparison: 1) started out as a joke and clearly labelled as such, and 2) is just two blonde girls in white dresses. the original post had nothing to do with grace’s characterisation, actions and least of all the brainwashing of any of the male characters

[angst-king]

A man by many names pt3

(here is part 3 of my parent V!Deku + child reader story. Its a bit short hope you like it)

Leaving the house, Izuku let out a sigh he didn’t know he’d kept in all that time. With a newfound rage, he finally had a purpose for his villainy. Vengeance. You see as said before Izuku never did anything truly villainous, more so petty theft or the occasional murder for his stocks or to dispose of a body. Besides that, he was simply nothing more than the boogie man. A person who could be anyone or anything, just a scare tactic people used to frighten people. People made up names for him, made up an image for him, and painted him as a monster. A monster no one truly saw or knew anything about. Now this monster was ready to come out.

Tonight he would be meeting with the yakuza and the LOV, though this time he didn’t pay much attention during most of the meeting. He didn’t care for whatever power-hungry bullshit those maniacs had planned out. It was simply just a boasting session and business exchange.

“It's not like you have any excuses to not allow me to borrow a nomu or two nomu, or are you that cowardly?” Joked one of the villains with a grin, Shigaraki rolled his eyes and then pointed at Izuku.

“Like you need your human garbage rat over there?” Izuku looked up to see the finger pointed at him and rolled his eyes.

“Do any of you have something important or are you going to bicker like children over who’s better? Let's get one thing straight you’re both imbeciles who can’t get things done on your own without some sort of aid or alliance. Neither of you has been getting any closer to your goals since the war. One of you wants to still recreate the quirk-erasing drug for your own cultist views and the other one is a brainwashed toddler in an adult's body who’s hungry for power.” Izuku grumbled out with a yawn to emphasize his boredom and annoyance with the group.

“Oh, do you have any plans rat boy?” Asked Shigaraki with a patronizing tone, Izuku smirked widely flashing his teeth.

“Yes I do actually” “Oh and what’s that ya gonna go eat someone?” “Do you think I’m just some animal? You and I are not the same, I just haven’t found a reason to go terrorizing people publicly….well until now.” This got the room’s attention rather well, most times Izuku was just there to listen, report, and take his tasks. Hearing that he had something in mind, Shigaraki wanted to know what it was.

“What the hell is it then?” “Revenge….I want revenge on two pro heroes specifically, Ranger and Swap.” “Hm? And why those two specifically?” Asked Dabi who put his feet up on the table lazily.

“Let's just say they have a track record for abusing children….and you know me Dabi….” Dabi raised a brow at this, seeming intrigued.

“Since you know me and so does Toga, I came here to ask for your assistance in my plan. No offense Shigaraki but I believe you have your things to worry about.” Toga grew excited, she loved getting into these sorts of things. As long as it gave her a chance to let out some pent-up upsets with a cold blade she was all in.

“Why don’t you stop being so vague, Izuku? Depending on what the reasoning for this plan of revenge I may let you borrow them.” Shigaraki hissed out, and Izuku rolled his eyes, it wouldn’t hurt to tell them. Besides, if they dared to hurt (y/n) he wouldn’t hesitate to make their lives miserable.

“Alright then. The reason for me going after these pro heroes is because I’ve taken in their child. Who must I say has gone through horrendous things at the hands of their negligent and abusive parenting.” “So you want to use my team just for some little brat you took in?” Shooting over a glare his eyes changed from their bright green to a shining red color. As if he were trying to stare right through Shigaraki’s soul his tone went cold.

“Last time I checked, your team are just pawns, you don’t actually care what happens to them. So you shouldn’t care if I ask a favor of them if it's something so insignificant to you. All I ask is that they wreak a little havoc. So I don’t see it as such a waste of their time considering you don’t have anything for them to do anyways since all you can do is run back to the drawing board after every failure.” He then looked back to Dabi and Toga with a grin.

“You two, I want you to make them feel as if their life is in danger, i want them paranoid. I want them to feel hunted down. So have fun with it~” Toga nods agreeing to this plan before Dabi asks what was in it for him. Izuku shrugged and replied.

“Hm, I don’t know, what is it that you want in return?” “Hm 1: we get to meet the kid and 2: ….a new phone” Izuku gave a small chuckle at the second request, Dabi had a phone for a few reasons, to keep up with his siblings, and to keep in touch with Hawks.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Toga is there anything you want?” The blond shook her head, saying that just getting the chance to let loose was good enough. With that Izuku got to his feet and said he’d be off. Shigaraki tried to stop him but all Izuku said was.

“I don’t want to keep my little one waiting.”

As promised he stopped by the store to pick up some rice cakes and your favorite juice before heading home. He was surprised to see that you could handle spicy rice cakes rather well for your age. He tried them himself and they were delicious, no doubt about that. Just the spice level you liked for them was was made him wonder what else you’d eat. Once he got home he made his way in quietly just in case you were asleep. But there you were sitting on the couch watching your cartoons and coloring. He smiled and softly called out to you. You grinned and got up from your spot toddling over to him.

“Hey there (Y/n) what cha watching?” “bluey,” You said, you then saw the grocery bag and asked if those were the rice cakes. He nods and leads you into the kitchen where you both make your dinner for the night. As Izuku put the containers into the microwave you asked him about his meeting.

“What was your meeting about?” “Well it was just a meeting on some important business things, I wanted to ask for some assistance on a little idea I had. They agreed to help me thankfully without much protesting. So it shouldn’t be long before that starts up.” “Ooh sounds important” You commented while sipping your juice, he nodded and lightly patted you on the head.

Izuku didn’t know when to tell you his plans or whether he should tell you at all. He would probably have to soon since Toga and Dabi wanted to meet you. But for now he didn’t want to delve into that, he just wanted to spend the rest of the night with you.

[theboysfromaustin]

November 18, 2008

Ian wrapped his arm around Gav as they left the courthouse, feeling the younger man press against him, “Are you okay?” “I think so…I'm sorry.” “I'm not mad, I want you to be okay.” Gav slipped his hand into Ian's pocket, “I wish I were normal.” Ian stopped, pulling him close, other people milling around them, “I love you. Nothing will change that.”

They got into the Aston Martin, Gav leaning on the window. He still looked uneasy. Ian pulled out, heading south. “Where are we going?” “You'll see.” They crossed over Town Lake, pulling up at Sandy's Hamburgers. Gav shot Ian a questioning look, the older man grinning, “C'mon.”

The burger stand was quiet, each getting a cheeseburger, fries and malt. They settled in at one of the picnic tables out back, tucking into their meals, quiet for a few moments.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Gav sighed, “I…I could have fucked up your case, couldn't I?” “Well…” Ian drummed his fingers on the wood, “You didn't. But even if you did, there are other cases. I've been at it long enough to know.” “I need to keep my mouth shut.” “I wish I could say what I really feel when there's an idiot yapping on the stand,” a smile played at Ian's lips.

“So…you're not mad?” “No, of course not! I understand that your autism means there are things you can't help, but the thing is, I know that you try. And you try because you love me. God knows I couldn't have Kazuo at my side in court. He has no excuse for his big mouth, he just says whatever the fuck he wants.”

Gav giggled, sucking on his butterscotch malt. Ian ruffled his hair, glad to see him relax, “You know…I'm pretty sure my dad was autistic.” “What?” Gav paused, a fry halfway to his mouth, “What was he…?” “Well, he was always quite abrupt. Rigid in his thinking, moreso than the usual father of the 40s and 50s. Loved trains…we need to go dig through the boxes, pretty sure I have his old electric set.” “Was he a good dad?” “Yeah. I mean, better than a lot of dads I knew. He never hit me, which was weird to my friends. I know that losing Charles was a deep wound that he never recovered from.

He was very intelligent. Built the chemist's from the ground up, then helped manufacture planes at Avro during the war.” “He sounds smart.” “Oh, he was, but it would get him in trouble. He was very outspoken against the monarchy. He'd throw darts at a portrait of the Queen. One time, he deliberately broke a neighbor's window with a potato. He decided the best way to teach me to ride a bike was to take me to the top of a steep hill and push me.”

“Ouch.” “Yeah. I learned. Quick. I love my dad.” “I wish I loved my parents. Although, if they'd actually paid attention and noticed my autism, I'm sure the abuse would have increased.” “I hate your family. What a hideous group of bastards.” “I know I suffered badly on leaving, but it was the right choice. I would have ended up dead. Or brainwashed, which would have been worse.” Ian reached over, squeezing his shoulder, “You're safe with us. Gav, I've always meant to ask…how did you get to Texas?”

“Well…” Gav chewed his burger, “I started out hopping a freight train, which got me to around Toledo before I got chased off by security. I lost half the food and water I had. Stole a map from an unlocked truck, hitched and stowed across Ohio to Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas to Texas. I got threatened a lot. Once with a gun. Propositioned once. By a lady. I snuck onto trucks more than asked, I was that scared of people.

Got stuck in Dallas for a few days, lurking around truck stops until I found someone to get me to Austin where I planned to just build a new camp, and be homeless until I died. That didn't happen, though, and I'm glad. I'm safe, I'm loved, and I'm not starving.”

“It's lucky that we found you when we did. And I'm so thankful that Kazuo convinced me that we needed you.” “Love that weirdo,” Gav shoved a handful of fries into his mouth, “I hope Kazuo won't bemad about us going out after court without him.” “I'm sure he's found food. Probably something with cheese. He's resourceful. Gaseous and resourceful.”

Kazuo had taken Martha down to Quack's, and the two were sharing the whole roster of cupcakes. This was the secret thing they did when Ian and Gav were in court.

Gav moved to Ian’s side, leaning on his partner. Ian put his arm around Gav, leaning back, “You're a good man. We're lucky to have you. And you're a damn fine paralegal, a worthy successor to Kensuke. And,” Ian kissed his forehead, “You're adorable.” “I love you,” Gav leaned up, their lips meeting. “You feel better now?” “Yeah. You're good at making me feel better.” “You ready to kick arse in court tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah!”

[beommiya]

Love... It would've been a lie if Xuan said that he knew what that word truly meant. A man raised in hatred and a harsh coldness, devoid of any knowledge of what the warm embrace of a parental figure or loved one even meant, the notion of love was as foreign to him as can be. Maybe the only time he ever felt a semblance of what affection meant it was too short lived for him to even be able to fathom what it really meant, because even that little ray of sunshine was snatched away from him as soon as it appeared. "You're right. I don't know what love is." Xuan replies coldly, still as calm as ever. "So maybe that's why I don't understand why you'd devote your life to someone that treats you nothing different from how they'd treat a disposable item." Again, only partly true, because he could understand such devotion to an extent, in the context of showing gratitude and feeling a sense of duty towards someone who maybe saved your life or did something for you that wouldn't probably ever be able to be repaid with money or other physical things. "Just forget him. You're better off without someone that doesn't treat you any different from how an enemy would, or even worse." The close proximity allowed for the raven haired to sneak a closer peek at Kibum's features and body and he wasn't blind or stupid, he could recognize the marks of extensive physical abuse on someone. Yeah, this youngster was completely fucked up in the head, maybe even brainwashed by his former boss... With another sigh, which had become a habit when listening to Kibum's angry retorts, Xuan then returns to taking care of the other's wounds, applying some of the medical ointment on and bandages over it. "This'll help with the healing process so that there won't be any visible scars. In a few days, your face should start looking pretty again." Giving Bum a pat on the head, he then gets up to put the medical stuff back in their place. "You hungry?" Xuan asks casually.

"Thought so...no wonder you're so cruel..." that last part was not exactly what he thought, but annoying Xuan started to become a really enjoyable thing to do. It's not like there was much to do to keep himself entertained, as if someone in his position needed entertainment to begin with. Soon he averted his gaze in a different direction, Xuan's green eyes feeling as if he was burning holes in his skull whilst treating his wounds. "I'll talk to him when he comes here after me...I know he will..." he started to believe his own words less and less but he was not going to give up on hope. "Hungry?" he scoffed. "If I say yes what are you going to do? Feed me like a baby because you still haven't untied my hands yet? But no, I'm not hungry....however..." he began but he hated asking for things. But he had to, his throat was as dry as the desert and some water would do wonders, maybe even a cigarette but he was not going to push his luck just yet. "Some water would be nice..."

[themurderofcrowscollective]

This is just... Rolann wanting to get some shit off his chest, mostly about life issues and the hell that he has to deal with regarding his insecurities and the psychological abuse he's been facing. Yes, I'm Rolann Ever since I found out I was part of the system we all are living in, I stopped frequently fronting because life was too much for me at the time. I wasn't willing to leave the lost forest for a while, and some of the others thought that I went into dormancy. I didn't, I just wanted to believe in the false security of our shared headspace, forgetting all that I knew about this cruel reality we live in. Maybe it's just me, but for 4 years, my biological dad has done nothing but sat on his ass while working a job, spewing hate and obscenities about politics and religion. As far as you guys know, he's a Qanon cultist and a false prophet, indoctrinating my bio mom and brainwashing my younger sister. I still have the stones to believe nothing that he says is true, because a long time ago, he taught me to never forget the difference between reality and delusion. He's delusional, aside from being a New Ager and a hateful man who is a hypocrite. And on top of all that, he's abusive too. Physically? Not anymore, and he never left any marks that could've been proof of the abuse I endured before my realization, but the memories are still there of him smacking me and leaving a bruise on my ass that had me have issues of sitting for a week when I was younger. No matter what I did though, he just kept proving his point that no matter where I go and what I do, he'll always be there to control every aspect of my life. Years of mental abuse have me chained to this house, to him, and I don't know what to do. On top of all this, I suffer from executive dysfunction disorder and many insecurities that have me hide away in my room, wanting freedom but never acting on it because of the constant reminder that I'll never be free even if I see the signs that say I need to get out of here. I've been needing to get out of here for 3 years now, but I have no car or any means of leaving, and yet I still get dreams and visions of me walking away with nothing but a bag of clothes and my laptop. Where would I go? Anywhere but here. Yes, there is the dangers of the world that I need to be aware of and I do remind myself constantly of the pros and cons of being homeless for a while, but I also compare my current situation with another situation that plays out in my head. The others in headspace urge me to do the right thing, and I hear them, but it's always the same insecurity telling me that I'll never be free, that he'll always be there when all I want is for him to be out of my life and for me to finally start living. This is why I stopped being the host of our system, because I didn't want to keep going on like this and all I have is my safe haven in my mind. I'm stuck and trapped here, but I want to tell myself that I can leave and make a life for myself and the others in headspace. One day, I will be free.

[yellowis4happy]

Thank you for the most succinct comeback to Whatserface’s idiocy I’ve ever seen. No waffling, no trying to argue your point, just a quick ‘there is something deeply wrong with you’ and a block. Beautiful. She’s going to keep trying to link your name now and get you to unblock and debate her, because that’s her kink or something. I’d suggest reporting her, and blocking any of her followers who try to debate you for her by proxy. I’m sorry, you are right that there is something deeply wrong here.

She can do whatever she wants bc I've already forgotten her username 💖

[zv5x]

"Forbidden Psychology" (Yandere!Riddler • Reader : Romantic Scenero)

tw // brainwashing , psychological torture , use of the yandere trope , manipulation and abuse , toxic and delusional mindsets , restraining and sensory depravation , hostage situations , mentions of child abuse and neglect , references to orphanages here we go! the moment we've been waiting for <333

If Edward knew you could hear him, he would have commented on how unbearably cute you look right about now. He smiled, humming at the same tune as the mechanical whir that seemed to vibrate with such a consistent rhythm. The room was lighter than it usually was, but the blindfold that was tied tightly around your eyes prevented you from seeing anything but darkness. A perfectionist at heart, he made sure to tailor the simple fabric to be the perfect size for your head, and he was sure you would have struggled if you knew what exactly he was wrapping that ruler around your head for. You were always so stubborn. This should fix that, though.

This was perhaps his most ambitious project. Though, things most definitely became easier once the largest step was completed : the recording. It was nothing too complex, and was simply just a recording of Edward recalling every single memory the two of you ever shared together. From the time of you first met in the orphanage, to the last time the two of you hung out before he took you to your brand new home, it was all documented in this single recording.

Psychologically, it was foolproof. He spoke in the softest voice possible, but still expressive enough to elicit a positive reaction from your brain. Sure, you could try and say you hated the Edward of the present, but you couldn't say you hated the Edward that huddled next to you as you shared a blanket during the cruel orphanage Winter, or the way the two of you shared a pumpkin pie after skipping out on high school prom together. He recalled those memories and more, all speaking in a perspective that would reflect you speaking of those memories rather than him. He was described as Edward, while you were described as "I".

You were so perfect in this position. Edward couldn't have been prouder of himself for thinking of such a perfect idea. Looking at you, your body seemed completely shut down already. You were hunched over, trembling and whimpering quietly. It's only a matter of time before your brain breaks completely, if it hasn't happened already that is. Edward couldn't help but wonder what point in the recording you were at. Perhaps it was at the parts where he described the two of you reuniting in adulthood, or perhaps it was the moment where he mentioned how well he took care of you when you were both young, struggling orphans together in childhood.

Edward couldn't help his body lowering itself down and sitting right in front of you, mirroring the position you were placed on the floor. He wanted to touch you so bad, but he knew he couldn't. It hurt him so, but he knew you had to be completely sensory deprived for best effects. Plus, he didn't want to frighten you. Along with the blindfold, he had also placed headphones specifically designed to block out all sounds other than the ones being played through the cord connected to his laptop. Unwarned touching will no doubt scare you, and he doesn't want to do anything to reverse his progress or prevent the effects from changing your mind like he intended.

You only need around four more hours of this. Then he could interact with you again. Edward couldn't help but shudder as he imagined the look on your face, seeing the man who's consumed your thoughts for so long facing you with a bring smile on his face. Freeing you from your restraints, he'll pull you into his lap and kiss you over and over. He couldn't imagine the level of euphoria the two of you were feeling.

What he couldn't see, would definitely support the ideals behind his delusions. You weren't even capable of thinking, your ability to articulate things that didn't regard what you were hearing were long gone, and you had already lost the will to resist the pleasant memories that Edward had forced you to go over. You felt inches away from death, but without pain, as what felt like your entire life flashed before your eyes.

The time Edward shooed various rats away as they tried to nip at your clothing during your childhood, is just one of the many memories that flashed against your memory, clashing with the last bits of your better reason. You remember he was particularly angry at that, trying his best to grab them to give them a worse punishment than simply scaring them could, then quickly rushing back to your side when you cried under your breath at the sight of fresh blood. None of the adults cared enough to acknowledge your wounds, let alone care for them, so you credited Edward with saving your natural life.

You slept mostly on his chest after that day. You let him wrap his arms around you and cling to you, rationalizing that the nuzzling and pecks that you felt against your neck were entirely platonic in nature. He just wanted to protect you. He was a light sleeper, so if the rats wanted to get to you, they'd have to crawl on him first and he'd surely wake up from that. He can barely get to sleep as-is.

"When me and Edward were kids, we snuck out of the orphanage late at night to go to the park close by." Your voice hitched, silent as you intently listened. You didn't know if your silence came from a place of nostalgia, or a forced position of silence brought on by a brutal tyrant. The lines were blurred, and maybe you liked it that way. "We were hungry and couldn't play, but I was content letting Edward hold me in his lap as we looked at the stars together. Me and Edward would always sit in the corner of the orphanage and talk about what we would do when were adults. One day, I promised Edward that we would get married when we both became of legal age, and Edward was really happy. We tried our best to find books on marriage in the library, but Edward knew that true love couldn't be described by anyone on the outside..."

You couldn't help but wonder if Edward had left the room, or if he was staying to comfort you. Like he always did. Mind foggy, you continued to focus on the recording at hand.

"...went there again...when me and Edward were in high school, he saved up enough money to take me to a dolphin show. The water splashed me when one of the dolphins jumped, and Edward let me have his coat so my skin wouldn't show through the white shirt I was wearing. When Edward and I were in our senior year of high school, I told him that I was thinking of going to a college far away. Edward was really upset, but thankfully he was able to convince me to stay, so I could spend my entire life with him."

Your entire life? Edward. Edward was your entire life. Building on that, he must have been your world. He's done so much for you. So many times he's risked his life to give you food, even when all he did was think he heard your stomach growling. He even stuck by you in adulthood, proving every day that he loved you with every fiber of his being. You couldn't wait until you saw him again. You couldn't wait to look him in those pretty green eyes and show him how much you adored him. You couldn't wait to apologize for letting him down, taking him for granted. Rest assured, you'd tell him, he'd never feel unloved again.

Edward had a feeling these feelings would emerge, even though he doesn't have a way of confirming them yet. He's read so much on it, taking advice from the best and going even deeper than what normal people would consider too far. Books detailing tutorials on manipulation do nothing to help one looking to break the mind completely, and Edward had to spend extensive time innocently researching the mind in itself to really find a good way to snap it and two and glue it back together with the glue of his love.

He knew that from the innocent drool that pooled down your lips and stopped at a single spot, your brain was completely his. It was only a matter of time now. Of course, you belonged to him from the moment he first laid his eyes on you, but now, you'd agree to belong to him too. You couldn't escape him if your brain aches for him like he's some sort of divine deity. You can't escape him if your heart is longing for the feeling of his healing touch or the grace of his praise.

Truthfully, this is the best possible ending for you. You're safer this way, and you'll never be able to escape again.

[bethdutten]

slow it down

hydra agent!reader x bucky

summary: You were forced into HYDRA, and were looking for a way to defect. When they assigned you to Bucky, you knew there was no way you weren’t taking him with you.

a/n: not sure where this idea came from except female assassins are cool. 

PART 1

You didn’t choose to join HYDRA.

You were blackmailed into it by an ex-boyfriend who made you a witness to a murder, broke up with you, and forced you into an illicit organization all within three minutes. And your life changed forever.

Then it changed again when you met Bucky.

It was the first time you were charged with monitoring him while he came out of cyro. Pierce gave you his file, trusting that after four years you were fully on HYDRA’s side; you saw what the man’s name was before they stripped him of all humanity, made him a killing machine, like they were trying to do with you.

Bucky.

The history of abuse, torture, brainwashing— you shifted away from the camera you knew was pointing at him, shielding your own face so whoever was on the other side couldn’t see the tears building in your eyes. This man, he didn’t deserve this.

You decided right then and there. You were going to help get him out of HYDRA.

The cyro encasement was open, various lights blinking as Bucky--Soldat-- slowly came back to himself. You took stock of the room while you waited; the camera, exits, ways to shelter yourself under fire if needed-- all things you’d been trained to do, as you were sure he was. The person on the other side of the camera wouldn’t even recognize you doing it, you were that good. 

You needed to take out the camera facing you. The others, you were fairly certain wouldn’t give anything away when Bucky finally woke up and you spoke to him. 

Looking below the camera, you noticed the small black cord that connected it to the electronic door entrance-- the camera was wireless, but snipping the right wire in that cord would disconnect it from the system. You casually placed the file down, walking over to the table the cord was above. Blocking from camera view, you quietly slid the knife from your sleeve out and sliced the cord, cutting access to the camera off and hiding the knife before you took a folder off the table and headed back to your seat in front of the cyro chamber.

It would look like a camera just lost power; the rest were fine. No alarm went off. You let out a quiet sigh of relief at making it past the first hurdle.

Suddenly, a soft groan startled you upright, the man in the chamber grimacing as his brain slowly came back online. You remembered what you read-- that he was most vulnerable to suggestion and direction now, right after his brain had been wiped and frozen. He would be looking for orders, for a sense of self-- the perfect time for you to remind him who he was. And hopefully he would remember.

He opened his eyes, breath coming out quick and shallow. He noticed you, but wasn’t looking-- panicking, but keeping it hidden. You wanted to scream at what those bastards had done to him.

“Soldier?”

He looked at you, blinking. You walked up and undid the straps holding him in, giving him space to step out. Bucky was shirtless, the scars from where they had destroyed his arm and melded the new one visible and unflinchingly angry. All he was wearing were tac pants from most likely his last mission, and combat boots. He stood at attention, betraying nothing.

Waiting for orders. Here goes.

“Your name is James Barnes. Bucky. Does that sound familiar?” You kept your voice quiet, soothing. Making sure he knew that despite the uniform, you weren’t the enemy.

His arm recalibrated, fingers twitching as he stood still. Like he wasn’t sure what to do without being strapped down. It broke your heart.

“No.”

His voice was rough from disuse, hesitant. Almost scared. But something in his eyes made you think the name lit up something in his mind, he just didn’t trust it yet.

You nodded, eyes flickering to the camera in the corner. You caught him doing the same. There was no audio, but he must remember how this usual went. You knew this could backfire so easily. Decades of brainwashing meant it would take a lot to break him— maybe it wasn’t a clean slate, maybe he fully submitted to HYDRA regardless of brain wipes. But you were willing to try. You had to.

“Bucky,” you started, giving him a soft and hopefully reassuring smile. “I want to get you out of here, okay? But they can’t know. They’ll get suspicious if they think you aren’t ready to fully comply. So you have to pretend we didn’t have this conversation, and do what they say. I’ll come find you once I figure out a plan.”

He didn’t say anything, but you saw his nearly imperceptible nod. Then something occurred to you.

You swallowed, watching the way he clenched his metal fist and waited for the handlers to come. You had maybe twelve seconds. “Bucky?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and it made your heart clench to realize he just responded to a name other than ‘soldat’.

“Do you want to get out of here? Out of HYDRA?”

There was a bang on the door, the sound of a key card being swiped as voices of men came from the other side. But before they entered, you heard Bucky whisper with a look of slight desperation in his otherwise cold eyes—

“Please.”

Then the men in HYDRA uniforms entered the room, and the Winter Soldier mask effortlessly slid into place, and Bucky disappeared.

[iamasimperyk]

I am free -Fezco

Warnings: Abusive boyfriend(Nate Jacobs), angst, cheating, not proof-read

Summary: It was raining heavily and you got to Fez store. He welcomes you with open arms, not like Ash. You think a lot about your relationship and decide to do the right thing.

A.N; First time writing about Fez. Not the best, but I promise I will do better next time, at least I will try;)

Your parents always had something against Nate. Maddy was one of your closest friends, and they often heard her crying over Nate, so they didn't want you to go through the same shit.

However, you were happy with Nate. Yes, there were a few moments where you were a little scared of him, but he made it up to you every time.

People called it toxic, but for you, it felt like heaven. Maddy, Rue, and all the others had warned you about Nate and his violent behaviour, but you didn't listen to them.

It was like Nate had brainwashed you the last few months of your relationship. You stopped spending time with your friends, didn't come home often anymore, never went anywhere without Nate.

For you, it was love. For others, it was sick.

Your appearance also started to change. You often wore short clothes, wore strong make-up, had some bruises here and there. But nothing of that let you love Nate less.

He, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing and was enjoying that you were so fragile. You did everything he asked you to do. When he wanted to fuck you, you would let him even if you weren't in the mood. If he wanted you to wear something that wasn't your style, you would do it anyway, just to satisfy him.

----

"Nate? Where are you?" You asked through the phone.

It was cold, raining for hours, and you were standing next to an old bus station, waiting for your boyfriend to pick you up for already an hour. Your day wasn't the best, and all you wanted was to be with Nate now.

"I am quite busy right now." He says with heavy breaths. In the background, you heard a quiet giggle, followed by moans.

"Oh, don't worry, I will just walk home. Love yo-" You were interrupted by him hanging up.

You were aware of the fact that he was cheating on you at this very moment. A tear ran down your cheek, but you wiped it away quickly. You loved Nate with every piece of your heart, but you were willing to let him go when that was what he wanted.

You didn't want to walk, but that was all you could do to get home.

After a few minutes your clothes were soaked, your hair was a mess, and your make-up ran down your face. Your feet also hurt, and you decided it would be better to get to some store, where you can wait for the rain to stop.

You looked around, seeing the gas station Fez worked at. Rue once introduced him to you, but since Nate and he didn't really get along, you never talked to him again.

You quickly made your way into the store, hoping that Fez wouldn't kick you out immediately.

Instead of the ginger, you were greeted by his brother Ash, well you supposed it was him. You never saw him in person, but Rue had told you some stories about him.

"You want to buy somethin' or you just staring at me?" The boy asked you a bit rudely.

"Could you maybe tell Fezco that Y/N is here? He will know who I am." You replied, still shaking because of the cold.

He rolled his eyes but left for a few seconds before he came back with his older brother. "Whatcha doin' here?" Fezco asked you, a bit confused.

"Nate didn't pick me up like I thought he would, so I had to walk. I am all wet, and my feet hurt. I wanted to ask if I can wait here till the rain is over." You mumbled, visibly embarrassed.

Fezco was known for his kindness and would have never told you to leave. He also knew about Nate abusing you and tried his best to warn you but you never listened.

"Get some blankets." He told Ash, which he didn't question, even if he wanted to.

Fez and you were left alone. You didn't know what to say, and also Fezco was tongue-tied. He wanted to ask you a lot of things, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

When Ash came back with two blankets, Fezco quickly took them and wrapped them around you.

He carefully laid one of his hands on your lower back and guided you to the back of the store. Ash followed the two of you, slightly confused why his brother even allowed Nate Jacobs' girlfriend to stay here.

"So, Nate's girlfriend. Care to explain whatcha doin' here?" Ash asked after you sat down on the sofa.

"I already told you-" You started but got interrupted by him.

"Please, cut the bullshit and tell us why you came here when you could have gone somewhere else to warm up." He said coldly. He never liked it when people took advantage of Fez.

You let out a sigh, "Rue introduced me to Fezco once, and I actually like him, but Nate didn't want me to talk to him, so I never did. He didn't pick me up because he was too busy fucking around, and I just happened to come here."

"Oh, so you want my bro to be a replacement for him?" He hissed, whereupon Fez glared at him.

You quickly shook your head, "No, I swear on my life that wasn't my plan. I really just needed a place to warm up and wait for the rain to stop. Fezco is a nice guy, but I am still in a relationship with Nate."

"Leave her alone, bro. It's not Y/N's fault, her boyfriend is an abusive asshole." Fez interfered, being uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"I think we will break up soon. I mean, Nate clearly isn't in love with me anymore. Even if I love him, I want to make him happy. If breaking up makes him happy, then I am okay with it." You mumbled and looked down, fiddling with your fingers.

The brothers shared a look before Fezco spoke up again, "You're a good person according to what you just said. Dump that asshole and find yourself someone else.

You gave him a small smile, quietly thanking him. In the corner of your eye, you saw how Ash rolled his eyes, which made you a bit sad, but it was also understandable.

The rest of the time, it was quiet. You looked out of the window, watching how the rain poured down the sky. Slowly your thoughts wandered back to Nate again, but they quickly got interrupted by someone entering the store.

Ash got up, glancing at you, and walked back to the front of the store.

Faz cleared his throat before he started to speak, "Sorry for him. He just doesn't like Nate, neither do I."

You understood him. Nate wasn't fun to be around when you weren't close to him. The more you thought about it, the more you noticed that Nate had a bad influence on you.

Maybe they were all right, and he really was toxic and sick.

You took out your phone and looked at it for a few minutes blankly. You took a deep breath before blocking Nate everywhere.

Fezco looked at you, surprised, since he saw everything, but didn't say anything.

You closed your eyes, a tear slipping out before you opened them again with a small smile, "I am free."

Fez chuckled and nodded, "I'm proud of you, and I'm sure you'll find someone else soon. I mean you're hot, smart, pretty, and so much more."

You turned your head to him and gave him a soft smile, "I already have someone else in mind."

The both of you looked at each other, no one daring to lean in. When Fez finally wanted to make his move, he got interrupted by his little brother gaging.

"Shit, not Jacobs' girl." He muttered under his breath.

You blushed and quickly stood up, not wanting to look at Fez.

"I am sorry, Ashtray. Nate did awful things, but I understand that now. I think your brother isn't mad at me, and I hope one day we two also can be friends." You smiled down at him before placing the blankets on the sofa.

After one last glance at Fezco, you hurried out of the store. It was still raining, but you finally felt alive again.

[cherrycocaineee]

18. Sodapop - A Love All Too Real

*Warning - Smut; spanking, biting, dirty talk, hair pulling, car sex*

“My baby did so well.”

“Cum one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

*Sodapop’s p.o.v*

   Mickey Mouse was playing loudly throughout the living room, trying to muffle the sounds of the rain beating against the roof. It worked a little, distracting all of us from the brewing storm outside. Two-Bit was sitting next between Steve and I, completely mesmerized by his favorite showing playing on the screen. It wasn’t getting late but most of us were ready to pass out in the spots we sat in; me including, my heavy eyelids sinking each time I blinked. However, we were shaken away when there was a rapid banging noise on the door. I pushed myself up off the cushion and peered towards the closed door like all the others, wondering who could possibly be standing outside in this weather. The knocking came again, except this time with a voice behind it.

  “Seriously guys! Who else would be knocking at your damn door right now?!”

  It was Anni.

   Ponyboy hopped off the floor, leaving Johnny sitting there alone, and opened the front door quickly. Anni was standing there, her hand over her left eye, soaking wet from the rain fall. She glared at him.

  “Took you long enough,” she grumbled.

 “Sorry Anni,” he said, “we expected you to be at home.”

  “I was at home. I got kicked out.”

  When she stepped into the house, the multiple bruises on her skin, fresh blood was collected on her skin and clothes, and when she removed her hand from her eye you could see how bad it really was. Her eye was black and purple, and I could see that some of the blood vessels in her eye were popped due to the red color collecting in her eye.

  “Holy shit,” Two-Bit muttered, his eyes staying off the television now.

 No one cared about Mickey Mouse playing anymore, or how tired they were. We only cared about Anni.

She placed her bag down by the door as she passed Ponyboy, who was still in shock that he couldn’t even move to close the door. Steve did it for him, not wanting rain to get inside the house or on him.

  “Anni,” Darry said, standing in front of her, “this is the third time this week.”

  She looked at all of us before turning back to Darry, the unfazed look on her face never wavering, as she shrugged.

  “So?” She muttered.

 “So,” he continued, “you can’t keep livin’ like this.”

  Anni waved her hand in front of her, rather annoyed that she had to hear this again. Anytime she came over covered in bruises, Darry or one of us would tell her she couldn’t live with her dad again. It was always met with the same unfazed look on her face along with a light shrug of the shoulders. Anni crossed her arm over her chest; I noticed that she didn’t even wince. She was so use to the constant abuse and beatings that they didn’t even hurt her physically anymore.

   “Why not?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

 “Anni, you do realize that your eyeball is red right? Like the blood vessels in your eye have busted?” Dally inquired, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

 “Well yeah, I’m going to clean myself up and wait for it to heal like always.”

   “But what we’re sayin’,” I said, standing from my spot, “you don’t deserve to be beaten every time you go home. You deserved to be cared for and go to sleep safely.”

  Once more, I noticed that the unfazed look in her eyes never wavered. She was so numbed to the abuse it didn’t seem wrong anymore. Instead, she turned away from all of us, facing the open bathroom ready to head inside so she could avoid the problem.

  “Doesn’t matter to me. Lots of things shouldn’t happen but they do. People take what they want from me whenever they please; the want sex, they don’t have to ask they just take, if every night someone wants to beat the hell out of me so that they feel better then so be it. I’m nothing more than a toy; a disposable piece of shit that people tend to keep around until they’re done using me.”

  With those final words, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. My heart broke into hundreds of pieces after hearing her say those words. Anni wasn’t a bad person, she just never knew what it felt like to be loved and cherished. All I wanted to do was love and cherish her. To lay beside her at night and hold her. To pepper her face with dozens of kisses while caressing her small form. To just show her what it felt to be cared about instead of used. But she was so brainwashed into thinking she didn’t matter, that she was nothing more than a throwaway doll, that she couldn’t see it.

  Ponyboy wrapped his arms around him.

 “We can’t keep lettin’ her live there, Darry,” he said.

 “I know that, Pony, but unless she wants to leave there isn’t anythin’ we can do,” Darry said, “I’m goin’ to go make her somethin’ to eat.”

  That was a normal routine when Anni came over all beaten up. She normally wouldn’t have eaten for two days before the beating. I had asked her why she didn’t eat two days in advance and she told me that it helped her not throw up when her dad kicked her in the stomach. Once more breaking my heart as I heard her tell me that she could anticipate when the beating was coming and how to make it hurt less.

 I followed Darry into the kitchen, Steve and Ponyboy trailing behind me. He was already getting all of the sandwich stuff out, dinner having been served a while ago and with all of us here, there were no leftovers. I grabbed the mustard off the table and watched Pony take out some bread before spreading the yellow condiment on her sandwich. We worked in silence, not sure what we could say to one another. Darry was right; unless Anni wanted to leave her parents, to have a better life, there wasn’t much we could do.

   As soon as we finished making her sandwich, and Steve added half a pickle to the plate, Anni came walking in while drying her hair with the towel. She was wrapped in nothing but a towel. In the kitchen light I could see her bruises more prominent.

  “Soda, can I borrow some clothes?” She inquired.

 “Sure thing, doll,” I said, rinsing my hands off and following her to my room.

   I opened the drawer and took out a pair of gray sweatpants and a black wife beater that revealed a lot on the side. It was something I wore around the house when it was hot.

  “You know, Pony has clothes that might fit you better,” I joked.

 “Yeah, probably,” she laughed, “but they aren’t as comfortable as yours.”

  I handed the clothes to her, looking at her beaten up face. I frowned.

 “Does it hurt?” I whispered.

 “No more than it normally does,” she shrugged, “can you close the door on your way out? Please, and thank you.”

  Nodding my head, I left the room and closed the door behind me. Anni came out five minutes after wearing the sweats and wife beater I’d given her. It was much bigger on her than I’d expected, revealing all of her sides and if she moved her arms a certain way you could see the side of her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra, not that she needed one because her breasts were small and perky.

  A lump formed in my throat as I watched her. I had to force myself to look away. She plopped down on the recliner, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair as Darry walked in with her sandwich. He handed it to her and smiled.

 “Eat up, kid,” he said.

 “Thank you,” she said, smiling back.

Soon the rain went away; Darry had gone to sleep an hour ago, having to get up for work in the morning. Pony had fallen asleep on the floor beside Johnny, Dally left with Two-Bit to a party that was close by, and Steve was sprawled out beside me completely knocked out. His mouth was partially opened which made me laugh a little.

  Anni was still awake. She walked over to me, her arms folded over her chest.

  “Want to come outside with me?” She asked, “I need to smoke.”

 “Sure, come on,” I said, standing up carefully not to wake Steve or the others.

  I closed the door behind us and she shivered. The rain had made the air incredibly cold, and she was hardly wearing anything. Her pale skin glowed in the darkness, and in the small, illuminating porch light, I noticed that her nipples were erected.

 “Come on,” I said, leading her to Darry’s truck.

  We climbed into the backseat. I reached to the front and grabbed the spare keys underneath the visors. I turned the truck on and let the heater kick in so we could warm up. Anni was digging through her bag, removing a lighter and a container out. I watched her open the container and take out a joint. Anni didn’t smoke cigarettes, couldn’t stand the taste, but she did smoke weed and I was pretty sure it was because it numbed her from everything. I watched her light her joint and hit it, a cloud of smoke releasing from her perfect, soft, pink lips. The smell of weed collecting in the car and I knew I was going to have to air it out before we went in. Darry had the nose of a hound.

  She looked over at me and held out the joint, “want some?”

  “No thanks, doll,” I smiled.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she continued to smoke the joint. Her unwounded eye turned hazy and became a bit red. With each puff, she was getting higher and higher; this obviously not being the first time she smoked tonight. She slouched down in her seat, the shirt riding up a little bit. I guess I’d been staring too long because she faced me and raised her eyebrow.

  “Why do you keep staring at me like that?” She questioned.

 “Just takin’ in all of your wounds,” I whispered, half lying.

  She let her eyes land on the bruises decorating her arm before dropping it and taking another hit of her joint.

  “You know, I’m use to it but they still hurt like hell.”

  “You shouldn’t be use to it,” I muttered, “I hate seein’ you like this, Anni.”

  Anni put out her smoke, putting it back in her purse and folding her arms, “why?”

  “Because I care about you. Every time I see you all bruised up like this, it pisses me off. I swear if I ever see your dad-”

  “You’ll do nothing.”

  Our eyes met; hers cold, and distant, mine shocked, and sad.

  “If you do something it’ll only make it worse. I’ll just get beaten ten times worse than the last. He’ll do everything in his power to prove he’s got total control over me, and he’s right.”

  I reached over and touched her shoulder. She flinched a bit but I didn’t pull away; her skin was cool to the touch, the heater barely keeping her warm. Anni sighed.

 “It’s just how it is, Soda. Leave it be.”

  “How can I do that?” I asked, “you don’t deserve it.”

 “Because I’m not important, Soda!” She snapped, “if I left today, all of you would stop thinking about me! If I died tomorrow, you’d forget me as soon as you saw the next girl walk by! I’m replaceable! A nobody! Unloved!”

 “You aren’t unloved!” I yelled back, “and maybe to your shitty dad you're replaceable, but to me you’re irreplaceable! You’re so fucked up in the head, you don’t even know what love is because they’ve got you all messed up.”

  “So?! What do you want me to do about it!”

 “Let me show you what it’s like to be loved, Anni.”

  She started nibbling on her lip as I got closer to her. She didn’t move away from me though, as I leaned in closer and closer. The air between us almost felt thin, I could hardly breathe. I could see her chest moving up and down fast. Was she nervous? Scared? I couldn’t tell. My forehead pressed against hers.

  “I’ll stop if you want,” I whispered, “I’d never do somethin’ to you that you aren’t comfortable with.”

  It took her a moment to answer and when she was capable of doing so, it came out as more of a hushed whisper.

 “I’m fine,” her voice croaked, “you can continue.”

She was definitely nervous. My words, along with my actions, had her flustered and confused.

Nodding my head, I pressed my lips against hers. Her lips were just as soft as I’d imagined them to be. When I pulled away, it was only for a second, going back into and kissing her deeply once again, this time more passionately. I softly pushed her back, keeping my lips on hers, and crawled between her legs. Her hands reached up and wrapped around my neck, her fingers tangling themselves into my hair. A soft groan left my lips as I felt her fingers tug gently.

   I pulled away from her, a small amount of saliva pulling from our lips. Her eyes were hazy with lust and confusion.

  “I’ve got you, doll,” I whispered, “I promise.”

  She nodded her head. Leaning back down, I attached my lips to her neck and started leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along the nape. Softly sucking and nibbling on her flesh, I felt my cock harden at the sound of her breathy moans. A sound that I wanted to be familiar with forever. I bit down on her neck and she gasped, jolting forward, her chest pressing against mine. Her nipples were still hard. I swirled my tongue around the spot I bit down on before biting down on a different spot, repeating the process.

  “Soda,” she whimpered.

  It was the first time I’ve heard her sound so vulnerable.

  “That’s a good girl,” I praised, returning my attention to her face.

  The black eye didn’t bother me, neither did the blood in her eye. She was as beautiful as she always was.

  I grabbed the rim of my shirt and pulled it off, revealing my tanned chest. Her eyes lingered a little lower, her teeth biting her bottom lip while she scanned over my body. I chuckled then reached for her shirt. She lifted her arms letting me pull the shirt over her head, revealing her exposed, bruised flesh. I groaned at the mere sight of her breasts. They were perfect; like beautiful clouds. I barely licked one of the hardened nipples and her back arched, eyes rolling to the back of her head. I captured her lips with mine once again, this time kissing her hungrily.

  I pulled her off the seat and into my lap, breathing heavily as I started kissing down her neck again, tracing the purple hickeys I had left. My hands fumbled with my zipper first, my cock aching to be released from their restraints. Not bothering to lift her off of me, I lifted myself off the seat a bit and pulled my jeans down. Anni wrapped her arms around me, tugging my hair a bit as she kissed me hard. I grabbed the sweats she was wearing and dragged them down, my hands grazing her bare skin causing her to shiver. I loved watching her shiver after I touched her. It didn’t happen often with Anni, she hardly ever reacted to anyone touching her, so to see, to feel, her shake from my touch sent a rush of pride through me.

  Anni lifted herself off of my lap as I pulled her sweats all the way off. She was completely naked in front of me now.

  “God damnit, Anni,” I groaned, “so fucking beautiful.”

 A soft laugh left her lips as she watched me pull my boxers down finally releasing my growing member. There was no need to wait any longer, no need for foreplay, no need for me to poke and prod to make sure she was okay. We were both ready as if we'd been waiting for years. I lined myself up with her and pushed her down onto me, groaning at the feeling of her tight walls gripping me. Anni buried her head into my shoulder and moaned softly at the feeling of me filling her up. Only a second passed before I started thrusting my hips back and forth, our skin slapping against each other’s. Small pants were leaving her mouth as she gripped my shoulders tightly, keeping herself upright despite being drilled into. Even though I wasn’t going too fast right now, the position allowed me to bury myself deep into her sweet little cunt.

   “Holy fuck,” I moaned, “that’s it baby.”

  My pace quickened as she started bouncing herself up and down; the truck started to rock a bit at the movement happening inside but we didn’t care. Anni’s moans became more erotic and lewd; she sounded almost angelic and I loved that I was the one making her feel this way. Her head fell back as she continued to ride my cock, meeting each thrust coming from me. I moved my left hand up to the back of her head and pulled her hair a little, just enough to get her to face me. I didn’t want to hurt her. She moaned at the feeling of me pulling her hair.

  “Fuck, Anni, you sound so beautiful,” I groaned, pulling her closer by her hair so that our foreheads could meet, “such a beautiful girl for me, huh?”

  She could only nod, her body shivering.

  “Soda, I’m close,” she whimpered out.

  “Let it go, baby,” I moaned, “I’ve got you.”

 Those words with the quickening pace of our thrust sent Anni into euphoria. She screamed out, her legs violently shaking as she came all over my cock. I held her in place; one hand gripping her side while the other stayed tangled in her hair. I removed my hand from her back and smacked her perfectly, plump, sweaty ass. She yelped, rocking her hips into mine causing me to groan. Giving her ass a few more smacks, enough to pleasure her, I turned us over so that I was on top of her. My eyes danced across her sweaty body. I started pouring kisses onto her face and mumbling soft “I love you’s” as I continued to thrust into her faster.

  “Soda,” she moaned, “I can’t.”

  “Shh,” I whispered, holding back a string of curse words, feeling her walls tighten around me, “you can do it baby. Come on.”

   I slammed into her repeatedly; removing my cock all the way at the tip and then slamming back into her. Her eyes rolled back as her hips arched. I could feel myself getting closer to my climax as I watched her, feeling her dripping cunt swallow me over and over again.

  “Cum one more time for me,” I cooed, “I know you’ve got it in you.”

 Anni couldn’t form any more words, all she could do was nod her head and let me coax her with my sweet words. Soon her body spasmed again and her legs shook harshly. Her screams rippled through the air, but I didn’t bother covering her mouth to hide them. I didn’t care if people heard and I didn’t care if that caused people to come over to see what was happening; all I wanted was to be focused on Anni.

  “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” I croaked.

  My thrust becoming sloppier, I watched her body go limp as pools of sweat collected on her chest. I thrusted into her three more times before spilling my cum into her fleshy, pink walls. Coating every inch.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, “oh my God, fuck!”

  I stopped moving, unable to ride out my high for too long. Anni was panting hard. I pulled myself out of her and brought her to my chest. Rubbing soft circles onto her bruised back as she gasped for air.

  “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

   When Anni finally did catch her breath, she rested her head against my bare, sweaty chest. A tired smile appeared on my face as I watched her look up at me.

  “My baby did so well,” I praised again.

  We stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like a lifetime. Her glistening skin glowed in the moonlight, the cool air chapping her dry lips making her lick them repeatedly, her breast heaving up and down as she took in large amounts of air. Her black hair was not sweaty and clinging to her beautiful face. I reached my hand down and stroked the bruise on her cheek.

  “I love you, Anni,” I whispered, “so fuckin’ much. You’ll never be replaceable to me. I only want you.”

  Anni chuckled and closed her eyes, she was definitely sleepy.

  “I’ll hold you to that, Soda. If you love me, maybe I can let myself love you too. It may take a while but I’ll do it for you.”

  Grabbing the blanket that Darry normally kept inside his truck, I draped it over us and sighed. She buried her head into my chest and let her heavy eyes close. The sound of my heart lulling her to sleep.

  “No matter how long it takes,” I said, “I’ll wait for you. I’ll help you love again because you deserve it. That and the world.”

   The sudden realization of Darry coming out in the morning to see us asleep, naked in his car with the lingering smell of sex, hit me. A low chuckle escaped from my lips. I knew I was gonna hear it in the morning, but right now, I didn’t care. It felt like it was just Anni and I, all alone. That’s what I wanted.

[plus-size-reader]

Just a Kid

Daryl Dixon x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2453 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Taking Lydia in as your own with Daryl

Hi, I couldn’t get this concept out of my head. 

—————————————————————————————————

“She’s just a kid, D” you hummed, carefully working at the knot in his neck that he’d been complaining about for days.

You knew that this thing with the girl, and Jesus, and all these people wearing faces was really starting to wear on Daryl’s nerves.

You could tell, because every night when he came back to your house, he was even more tense than the last and at this point, you were really starting to get concerned that he would burst a blood vessel.

There was just too much going on right now.

...but you knew what you had to do.

Lydia was just a child, and even if her people were the purest evil you could ever imagine, that didn’t mean that she was. If nothing else, she was little more than a battered little girl who had never known any better.

That was how you saw her, and you knew Daryl did too.

He just wasn’t ready to take on so much yet, and honestly, he didn’t know if he could. It was hard for him to have to take over all this at Hilltop, and that girl they’d brought was only making it worse.

“You still on that?” he grumbled back, really hoping that you would have gotten over this pipe dream of yours already.

The two of you had talked this conversation to death, and while you knew there was a good chance that nothing was going to change, you would continue to do so until he changed his mind.

Ever since she had come to know this group, you had gotten it in your head that the two of you could give her the home that she had never had but Daryl wasn’t so easily convinced. 

It just seemed like more than you were ready for.

He saw that look in your eyes, when she was finally safe behind those gates, but then you’d gone and made it even worse.

You met her.

Maybe it hadn’t been the greatest idea, and maybe it wouldn’t help but you knew that at least you could try to understand better.

You could only imagine how a girl in her position would be feeling. You knew that if you were her, you would have been absolutely terrified.

After all, she was surrounded by strangers, in an unforgiving and new environment.

It was possible that one friendly face would make all the difference to her and as it happened, you had one of the friendliest faces around here.

If anyone was going to get through to her, it was you.

Course, Daryl was against the idea from the start but you knew that no one else was going to stick their neck out for her if you two didn’t. That made it more than worth it to you, even if no one else understood.

She didn’t say a word for the first few days.

Lydia had nothing to say to you and frankly, you couldn't blame her for that. You were a stranger, the enemy as far as she knew, and there was no reason she should have trusted you at all, but that wasn’t always going to be the case.

The more you came, the more she realized that you may have been the only person willing to stick their neck out for her. Once she decided that you weren’t going to kill her, or sell her out, it was pretty much settled.

You needed to help her.

It wasn’t up for debate, but for some reason, convincing Daryl was proving to be an even more difficult task.

“We aren’t her parents, it ain’t our place” he tried, desperately hoping that you would see how insane what you were proposing was. Still, you weren’t letting up, and he knew you well enough to know what that meant.

You were invested.

You were going to do whatever you could to get through to her.

Perhaps it was because you two found yourself comparing her to Daryl or perhaps it was your own soft spot for kids.

In any case, the damage was done.

“She doesn’t have parents D, that’s why she needs us” you sighed, leaning down to rest fully into his back, your head nestled in the space between his shoulder and his neck. It gave you just enough leverage to look at him.

It was hardly up for debate.

Lydia’s mother saw her as little more than an asset, something to abuse and control. After all the things you’d endured with Daryl, it made her well being that much more personal, for both of you.

It took months to get Daryl to tell you about his past.

He trusted you more than anyone else in the world, and his greatest pain was still too difficult to share until he knew you weren’t going anywhere.

You had no doubt that the hold this girl’s mother had on her was even stronger.

At least Daryl had Merle, he knew how much of an asshole his dad was.

Lydia was brainwashed.

You would be lucky if you were ever able to break whatever her mother had done to her, due to the extreme circumstances, but you knew that you had to try.

No one deserved the way she had been treated, and you wanted to make sure that she understood it wasn’t her fault.

Her mother was cruel, and there was nothing more to it than that.

The best way to prove that to her would be giving her a real home, proving to her that not everyone was going to treat her the way that she did. Maybe, if she felt safe, she would finally start to open up.

When the two of you first met, Daryl hardly spoke to you and when he did, it was always in a gruff, unfriendly tone. It took him some time to warm up to you and once he had, that tone warmed up to one of love.

It just took time.  

The same thing could apply to Lydia, if you just gave her some time.

If nothing else, it had to be worth a shot.

She was worth it.

“You really wanna do this?” he hummed, after what felt like an eternity of silence between the two of you.

Daryl heard you, he got the message, he just couldn't be sure that being with you, and him, would be enough.

He knew what it was like to be in her position, and he knew how hard it was to let people in. It was possible that she would never allow herself to be cared for in the way you wanted to, and he didn’t want you getting your hopes up.

You would be crushed if she rejected your offer, but it couldn’t hurt.

Even if she wanted nothing to do with either of you, at least you tried to give her something. That was much more than anyone else in the world had ever done for her.

“Yeah, I do. I really do” you smiled, not even bothering to hide the wide grin that spread across your face at the idea of what he was saying. It wasn’t exactly a yes, but it was as much of a yes as you were going to get from Daryl.

It was more than enough.

At the end of the day, even if it was a bad idea, Daryl knew better than to argue with you. What you were suggesting was crazy, but it was so very you that he couldn’t even worry about it.

He fell in love with you and that heart of gold of yours, so if this was what it was telling you to do, he owed it to you to let you do what you thought was right.

You had to, just as he had to.

...and of all the crazy ideas you’d ever had, this was hardly the most dangerous one.

All you wanted to do now was give a little girl a place to live and a family, it wasn’t like you were suggesting some kind of suicide mission. You and Daryl had faced far worse than a child, desperate for belonging and acceptance.

What you were doing was new for all of you.

~

Lydia wasn’t sure, at first.

After all, she had never really had parents and you and Daryl had certainly never been parents.

It just wasn’t something you had any experience with.

However, with all that you’d lost recently, it didn’t make sense to turn her away too. She was a product of her circumstances and nothing more. It wouldn’t be fair to make Lydia pay for the sins of her mother.

Instead, you chose to put all your effort into making sure she never felt like a burden again.

You knew that she blamed herself, in part, for what her mother had done. Henry was gone, Tara was gone, Enid was gone, it was just too much.

You’d lost too many people in the months it had been and you weren’t interested in losing any more.

You certainly weren’t interested in letting a little girl take the blame for what her people had done, not when she first arrived, and not now.

Lydia was good, she was trying, and that wasn’t something you were going to debate.

Thankfully, that was something you and Daryl could both agree on, without all the initial back and forth.

You were both winging it, of course, but you knew that you had to try and stick up for her. Even the smallest gesture would make a world of difference.

She deserved to feel safe for once.

When you and Daryl had decided to take her in, it wasn’t supposed to be perfect. You weren’t going to move into a little cottage surrounded by a white picket fence, with flowers and a dog.

It was making the best of whatever shit show situation you’d been dealt.

It was all you knew to do.

“You wanna help me with this?” you hummed, addressing your words to the young girl at your side.

What you were asking wasn’t really all that much of a question but considering that you were sewing up a huge hole in Daryl’s button up, she wasn’t interested.

“D does it himself, mostly, but he’s clumsy about it. The stitching always comes undone” you reminded, thinking about the last time he’d offered to stitch up a hole in your jeans, and it had unraveled by the end of the day.

He meant well, he really did, but he had never really had the patience for more delicate things like this. Sewing of any kind, even stitches in flesh, had never really been his foray.

...but that was okay.

You told him that you would take care of this, and he could pick up the slack somewhere else, making dinner or cleaning blood and dirt out of the laundry.

“I don’t know how” she tried, looking at you in the way she often would when she ran into something she had never done before. The two of you’d had this same conversation when you suggested she go to school with the other children.

She didn’t even know how to read when she came to you, and now, she is making great progress.

It was just a matter of learning what she had never had a chance to learn before.

“I’ll teach you, it's easy” you smiled, handing her the garment with one hand, and the needle with the other.

She looked unsure, lost even, but she took it nonetheless.

“Hold the fabric with this hand, and move the needle with the other, up and down in as straight a line as you can manage” you instructed, keeping it as simple as you possibly could until she got the hang of it.

You knew this was probably a tad bit overwhelming, and if she didn't go it right the first time, she would get discouraged but luckily, years by Daryl’s side had taught you a patience that nothing else ever could.

You could sit here all day if you had to, as long as she got the hang of it.

Lydia had been living with her pack of skin walkers all this time, only doing what she was told, but that wasn’t the life she was living now.

She was part of a community, and she had a family, but that also meant that she had to learn to protect and provide for herself when you weren’t there. If something ever happened to you or Daryl, she still had to live.

Her clothes couldn’t be ripped or ruined, her wounds couldn’t stay open to fester, and eventually, she would need to cook and clean for herself too, but for now, a helping hand was all you needed.

People were what kept your communities running, and your home was no different. You and Daryl were a team, communicating without words most of the time, and she was part of that now.

She was part of the team.

“Like that?” she tried, hoping that some part of what she was doing was right. There was no real way to tell but you didn’t seem upset so that had to be a good sign.

It was a strangely domestic task for her, one that brought back memories of her people, her old people, sewing up masks of tanned human skin. The motion was the same, the idea was the same, but there was something normal about this.

She was just fixing a shirt.

There was nothing volatile or aggressive about this, and it wasn’t for anything other than someone she cared for. That made it a little easier to stomach than any other chore may have been.

This was for Daryl after all, and if anyone had earned something like this, it was him.

Lydia wasn’t blind.

She knew what the two of you had done for her, always making sure she had something to eat and sticking up for her when the others got a little too comfortable with their distaste for her.

“Exactly, just a little closer together” you prompted, smiling when she did just as you asked. She was a quick learner, and you knew that she could do this.

This was normal, real, and the sooner she learned that she could live a completely normal life, the sooner she would really adapt to life in a community like this one.

“Once you’re done, you can help Daryl with dinner. I’m sure he’d love the help”

It was hardly where she expected to be, but it was more than where she’d been. At least, with you and Daryl, Lydia knew that she was safe.