#him learning not to use violence or silence like his parental figures when arguing with his kids

[mikakuna]

@jstodd and i truly believe jason would heal if he got to be a mama. give him a baby or few and he'll slowly heal from all the trauma his own parents gave him. let him take care of and love a couple of munchkins and he'll be okay. since nobody else can show him how a real family is supposed to be, let him learn how to create one for his babies.

in short, let this man be a mother!

[rocorambles]

Proving A Point

Pairing: Toji x reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Degradation, Murder, Violence, Gore, Borderline Necro??? But not really??? Listen...there is a dead body and things are done in very very close proximity to that dead body so take that as you will.

Summary: You make the mistake of accusing Toji of being jealous of sorcerers and he proves that he has nothing to be envious of.

Steady...Steady…

You wince as your stomach grumbles in complaint, hunger eating away at your patience and concentration. But you steel your nerves, stubbornly shaking your head and willing away the pangs in your abdomen as you focus on your surroundings, eyeing the cameras and employees, waiting for the right moment…

Skittish eyes. Rustling. Quick movements.

You tamper the pep in your step, hiding the glee in your face as you casually stroll outside of the sliding doors, leaving the grocery store and its shoppers in your wake, baggy sweatshirt much less roomy as you walk away. Your fingers itch to immediately grab the banana tucked inside your bra, but you know better.

Patience is a virtue. Out of sight, out of mind. And you wait, fighting every urge to run far away and dig into your stolen loot, sighing in giddy relief when you finally turn the corner, blocks away from the scene of the crime.

It’s almost animalistic how you practically rip off your hoodie, letting your precious cargo of fruits, bread, and chips fall to the ground. You plop on the ground, hand wrapping around the banana still tucked in the fabric around your chest, but you freeze at the sound of amused chuckling.

Your fight and flight instincts war inside of you, teeth baring, body back on its feet as you gauge your intruder. But your heart drops in your stomach when you take in the large muscular figure, the feral scarred grin leering at you from down the alley.

Years alone and left to fend for yourself have made your survival instincts strong and you know just from a brief glance that you don’t stand a chance against the man slowly meandering towards you. You’re no stranger to using your body for protection, money, just another night under a warm roof and you can only surmise that’s what he wants, that he’s just another predator in search of hapless prey. So you brace yourself, willing your body to relax as it trembles, letting it go limp as he draws near.

But you open your eyes in shock, looking warily on as he plucks the banana still nestled in your bra and peels it open, holding the opened end to your lips.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal.”

You gape, eyes flickering between the yellow fruit and the amused face of the man in front of you. Back and forth, back and forth.

“If you’re not going to eat it, maybe I’ll have it. I’m getting kind of hungry anyway-”

“What is this? Some kind of weird foreplay?!”

Hunger makes your tongue sharper than you intend as you angrily chomp on the soft fruit before he can pull it away from you, your hands ripping the rest of the banana from his grasp as you quickly shove the rest in your mouth, uncaring of how ridiculous you look. So what if you look like an oversized furious chipmunk, cheeks bulging as you rapidly chew, scowl set in place? You’d be damned if you let someone else take your hard-earned food, even if he does look capable of choking you with his bare hands, and your eyes linger a little too long on the ways his shoulders and biceps bulge in his tight black shirt.

But his next words have you snapping back to attention, nervousness curling inside of you.

“I saw your little stunt back there. Not bad. How long have you been stealing to provide for yourself?”

You immediately deny his words, feigning ignorance, beads of cold sweat trailing down the side of your face the longer he just impassively stares at you as you continue stuttering.

Had you misjudged him? Was he some kind of undercover cop?

“What if I told you I could keep you off the streets, find jobs that would pay enough money to put a roof over your head, keep your stomach full?”

Your head snaps up, hope fluttering inside of you, your voice coming out more desperate and shaky than you wish.

“You won’t turn me in?”

The man snorts, bending down to pick up the rest of your meager belongings and food, not even looking back to see if you’re following as he begins to walk away, arms laden with your possessions, silently commanding you to follow him. And like a duckling imprinting on its parent, you instinctively trail after him without a single question about where you’re going, what jobs he’s talking about, or who he is. But as you exit the narrow alleyway and get ready to merge with the bustling street, he pauses, turning around to gaze at you as he answers one of those questions.

“I’m Toji. No last name. Just Toji.”

Neither of you dwell too much on what exactly brought the two of you together, what had Toji curiously watching as you skillfully and efficiently stole your next few meals and deciding to tuck you under his wing, what had you eagerly following after the man like a lost puppy. The harsh conditions and day-to-day survival of your lives don’t give either of you the luxury of wallowing in loneliness or the warmth that builds in your chests the more time you spend together.

But on nights after a successful job, bellies full of food and alcohol, bodies lazing on a cushy hotel bed where you splurge and rest for the night, neither of you fight the way your limbs naturally entangle, the way your lips meet in the dark, the way it feels so damn right to be together.

You learn about sorcerers and curses, shuddering when you become aware of an entire world that surrounds you. Toji laughs when he gifts you a pair of glasses that helps you see the evil around you and you scream, jumping in his readily outstretched arms, clinging onto him in fright.

Toji learns that aggressive shows of confrontation and brute force aren’t always the best answer (even if they are the most fun option) and he follows your lead, letting you quietly sneak around, swift hands dexterously picking locks, easily plucking and pocketing stolen goods. It’s your turn to laugh when he pouts at not being able to use his blade, strong arms crossed in front of his chest as he impatiently waits for you to finish your task.

But despite the months you spend together, you never get used to the crimson stains he returns with, eyes always averted and looking anywhere else when he deals a final blow. He knows if you had a choice, you’d always opt out of joining him on these specific types of requests. He knows it’s selfish to force you along, to make excuses as to why he needs you by his side as his sword guts yet another sorcerer. He knows he should feel some shame for the way you dry heave and vomit the contents of your guts at the sight of the countless corpses he forces you to look upon.

Yet all he feels is annoyance laced with guilt and fury at the pity in your eyes, the softness in your gaze as you watch him slay another individual who just happened to be born with cursed energy, the gentleness with which you handle the fallen bodies. Maybe that’s why he keeps on dragging you with him assassination after assassination, gloating about his new moniker “Socerer Killer” in front of you despite your clear discomfort towards the title.

But maybe the unspoken punishment is too soft for you, too subtle. And Toji scowls when you begin to question him and his motives, angrily growling right back at you when you raise your voice as you argue with him about his drive to kill every sorcerer he crosses paths with.

You plead and beg for him to reconsider. Sorcerers are humans after all, just with special abilities.

Toji wonders if you’d still think that if you met anyone else from the Zenin clan and both of you back down, your arms wrapping around him in an attempt to soothe and comfort as you see his mind and eyes glaze over in painful reminiscing.

It’s during one of these sessions that you utter the lines that end up being your downfall.

“Toji, do you think that maybe all your hate towards sorcerers is just jealousy? Are you jealous that you weren’t born with cursed energy like they were? Because if that’s what it is, there’s nothing to be jealous about-”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Harsh language and cursing are all things you’ve come to expect from Toji. But what has you paralyzed with fear and a desperate need to make things right is the pure animosity and seething rage in his voice.

You whimper as a large hand reaches to grip your face, squishing your cheeks painfully, forcing you to lock eyes with fierce emerald orbs.

“I’m not jealous.”

He abruptly lets go of you with that sentence, turning his back on you, slamming the door in his wake. And you know you should be grateful that this is the extent of his lashing out. Yet somehow your heart aches more in his absence and you almost long for more of his heated words, even a spiteful strike as the days drag on without his presence.

It’s embarrassing how much you miss him, how accustomed you’ve grown to him being around. But you can’t help the way you scramble and flail in your rush to greet him as he finally enters your bedroom almost an entire week later. And he snorts when he easily catches you as you stumble and topple into his arms, tightly flinging your arms around him and holding him in silence, nuzzling and inhaling his scent as you bury your head in his chest.

You don’t miss the way a large hand gently rests on your head, the way he lets himself bask in your embrace. But all is not forgiven or forgotten and you warily listen as he barks at you to get ready, telling you he has another job for the both of you, grimacing when a razor sharp grin cuts across his face when he tells you it’ll be a messy one.

If there’s one positive attribute about Toji, it’s that he’s a man of his word. Your stomach churns, nausea swirling inside of you as he uses his bare fists to seemingly break every bone in the target’s body, unnecessarily cruel as he drags out the sorcerer’s death. The victim’s agonized screams fill the air and you clamp your hands over your ears, wishing you were anywhere but here, hesitantly stepping towards the exit, but stopping at Toji’s curt command for you to stay put.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh finally stops and you let out a shaky breath, tentatively lowering your arms as you turn back to face Toji, waiting for his exit plan. But your eyes widen when you see the sorcerer’s chest still rising and falling, still hanging to life by a fraying thread. And realization weighs down on your shoulders like a ton of bricks when Toji beckons you over, pulling your reluctant body until your back is pressed against his chest.

He places the hilt of his sword in your hands before gripping your hips, holding you still as his thumbs languidly rub lazy circles through the fabric of your pants. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, he watches the tremble of your arms as you vigorously shake your head side to side, eyes dizzyingly flitting between the half-dead sorcerer laying at your feet and the sharp point of the weapon your holding.

“Toji, I don’t- I can’t-”

“Kill him or be punished. Pick your poison.”

You know there’ll be hell to pay if you don’t follow through and every ounce of self-preservation screams at you to put your own well-being above the pitiful stranger on the ground. But when you lock eyes and see the fear and pain, see him as just another human like yourself, you know you’ll never be able to forgive yourself if you deal the final blow, know that his death will haunt you, curse you, for the rest of your life.

You’re terrified as you begin to loosen your grip, getting ready to let the object clatter to the ground, knowing full well Toji will be livid. But before you can fully release the sword, strong hands wraps around yours, forcing you to hold the blade once more, and you scream as Toji guides your hands, forcing you to cut through flesh, muscle, skin, and bone, the body parting like butter beneath the overwhelming force. Hot crimson splatters decorate the both of you and all you smell and taste is metallic copper.

All you’re cognizant of is the dimming light in the sorcerer’s eyes, the way your hands are still holding onto the weapon buried in your victim’s guts.

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

You don’t know anything except the need to flee, to separate yourself as far from the crime scene as possible. And your legs jerk back to life, only to give out on you as you’re forced to the ground, body unable to do much against Toji’s brute strength as he forces you on all fours on top of the still warm corpse, your limbs encasing the figure, eyes unable to look anywhere but straight down on those vacant eyes.

“Take a close look, sweetheart. Still think I’m jealous of a pathetic meat sack like that? Still think I care about having cursed energy? His special little powers didn’t help him much, did they?”

Toji’s laughter rings in your ears as your shaky arms struggle to hold your bodyweight up, trying to create as much distance between your torso and the hardening corpse beneath you, your eyes clenching shut, trying to block out the gruesome scene. You’re so focused on your predicament that you barely register calloused hands pulling down your pants and underwear, leaving your most intimate parts on display.

But Toji’s never been a fan of being ignored, especially by you, and you wail as he suddenly shoves his cock inside of your dry and unprepared hole, the pain and force of his thrust throwing you off balance and fat tears stream down your face as your body falls on the lifeless form beneath you.

Fear, pain, and disgust coil and slither inside of you as you futilely flail and try to lift yourself off the body beneath you, loud sobs escaping past your lips as your face is squished against a much colder visage, your tears and saliva mixing with the congealed blood on the sorcerer’s face. But every time you try to push yourself up, Toji rams into you from behind, and you instinctively tip forward, trying to escape, trying to pull away from him, only to further trap yourself against the corpse.

“God, you’re such a fucking crybaby. He’s dead, get over it. Look. There’s nothing to be so upset about.”

A new wave of salty tears trail down your face as Toji uses one hand to pin you down, forcing your lips to connect with colder, stiffer ones in a mockery of a kiss. He pauses his relentless thrusts to boisterously laugh as you fight against his hold in renewed vigor, fueled by your disbelief and terror.

“Alright, I guess that’s enough punishment for you. Don’t want you to die from shock. Let me make it all better.”

If you thought the ocean of negativity you had been drowning in before was bad, this is worse. So much worse. And a disgust so thick, so potent, so irreversible washes over you, seeping into every part of you, as pleasure begins to flicker and grow deep inside of you. Toji knows every inch of your body inside and out, and it’s pathetic how quickly your pleas for him to stop become lewd moans and wanton sounds as his fingers rub and play with hardening nipples and clit, as he angles his cock at just the perfect degree that has you seeing stars, as his teeth possessively bite down in the junction of your neck.

You don’t want to feel good, not like this, not here, not sprawled on top of a man you had just killed in cold blood. But it’s hard to think of anything else other than the arousal and lust fogging over your morality, over your humanity as Toji turns you into a well-trained mindless slut desperate for him, for pleasure. And he smiles victoriously as you stop resisting, letting your body mold against the corpse beneath you, uncaring of how absolutely sinful and depraved you look as you moan and drool like a bitch in heat, writhing shamelessly against the body underneath you.

He knows the image is going to be seared into his mind for life, fap material for years to come, and his hips stutter, his tempo fluctuating as his balls tighten, his thrusts becoming even more feral and desperate as he chases his end. And when you cum first, convulsing and milking him of all his seed, pushed over the edge by the brutality of his pace, he spills thick white spurts deep inside of you, grunting in satisfaction as he slams balls deep into you one last time.

It’s amusing how you’ve seemingly had a complete change of heart, looking almost at home and at peace as you continue laying on the motionless sorcerer, body twitching and eyes rolled back in your head as you laze in post-coital bliss. His softening and spent cock twitches in interest again as a sticky trail begins to trickle out your used cunt, mixing with the blood of the broken body beneath you. And it takes all his willpower to refrain from having you, tasting you all over again.

You’re still on the clock after all and there’s payment to be collected.

But as he coldly barks at you to get up and tidy yourself up as best as you can, smug satisfaction swells inside of him as he watches you exhaustedly pull your panties and pants back up above your ass, a dazed pleasured look on your face as you quickly make your way to him, tucking yourself closely to his side and leaning into his body heat.

You always were a clingy and needy thing after an orgasm. But he can’t bring himself to mind, sneering as he tosses one last backwards glance at the dead sorcerer you’re leaving behind before finally settling into a self-satisfied smile as he pulls you in closer.

Cursed energy and all...no sorcerer could ever make you feel as good as him.

[damn-stark]

Ch.11: Out of the shadows

Chapter 11 of Cherry

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy the chapter 😏

Warning- ANGST, LONG CHAPTER!, Talks of loss, violence, fluff, swearing, SLOWBURN.

Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader,

Episodes- 3x38-3x39

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Is she still out there?”

Sasha looks out the big glass window and nods her head to confirm your wandering question. Albeit she doesn’t linger behind to worry over Historia like you were.

For days now, ever since arriving at the secluded cabin, Historia has liked to go outside a few minutes before the sun set to sit on the grass all by herself. She never asks for company, or explains why she does; mainly because she rarely speaks, but nevertheless she just sits outside all by herself and doesn’t return inside until the night has completely taken over the bright sky.

Except for today. Historia was outside, but there was no sunset to admire. The sky was invaded with dark clouds that brought rain to patter down onto the earth, making the air smell bitter and yet sweet, but not allowing the sky to give any clear indication when day transitioned into night. Not like Historia seemed to mind as she stayed under the rain, letting you build the courage to go speak to her. Even if it meant with you'd get dirty and soaked.

“Mind if I bring some light?” You ask her quietly as you set the lamp down beside her.

Historia slowly drags her eyes up to your face and right away notices the hesitance on your face. She doesn’t speak about it and instead shakes her head to answer your question before returning her gaze to nothing in particular.

“Okay,” you breathe out as you painfully sit down on the ground beside her. “Nice night, don’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Historia shrugs gloomily.

You smile softly and lift your hand to watch the raindrops collect on your palm. “I love the sound of rain.” You ball your hand and turn it around to then open your fist and let the rain drip down from your hand. “Especially when I’m reading, I like to sit by a window, with tea and a book. It’s very comforting.” You blink to look back at her, seeing that your words went through one ear and left through the other. Her wavered attention didn't discourage you, it should have, but you stayed prominent to your spot and goal—“You know,” you continued in a much softer voice. “When I miss someone who’s gone, I like to wear something that belonged to them. It doesn’t smell like them anymore, but knowing that they used to wear it brings me comfort.” You sigh deeply and look down at your hands on your lap.

Historia finally pulls her attention from the dark horizon ahead and shifts her eyes to look at you. She stays quiet and let’s the sound of the rain falling on the roof of the cabin, and on the ground play uninterrupted for a few minutes as the meaning behind your words processed in her mind. She thought of not answering and being content with your suggestion in silence, but she needed to ask. Just once. “Do you miss him?”

You lift your head and turn your eyes to meet her blue ones that gleamed brighter by the tears welled in her eyes, and the light of the lamp in between you both. “Who?” You question cluelessly.

“Reiner.” She shares, making you grow stiff. “I mean I just saw the way he looked at you, the way he treated you. Were you guys dating?”

You shake your head and mindlessly begin fiddling with your fingers as you choose to answer her with the truth to one of her questions. “No we weren’t dating.” You pause and swallow thickly, taking note of your habit and instead tucking your hands into your sleeves to wipe the rain off your face. “It was just a fling, nothing to it. Plus,” you exhale deeply as your voice softens. “There's no room in my heart for traitors.”

“Was Ymir a traitor?” Historia asks bluntly, once again making you grow rigid with her very straightforward questions. This time instead of answering right away you wait and think of your words very carefully. You didn’t lie to her, or avoid answering, there was no need to with this question.

“No,” you shake your head, “she was different then the other two.” You shift around where you sat to be able to fully face her, while you kept ignoring the pouring rain that made your clothes stick to your body, and brought your body temperature down to an uncomfortable level. “When I was with them, after they took us, the one thing she was sure of was protecting you. She cares about you. She didn’t betray you. She wouldn't.”

Historia’s lip trembles before she drops her head to hide her emotions expressed on her face. Emotions she failed to contain and let out as quiet sobs that caused her whole body to tremble with cold and emotions. You wanted to comfort her, grab her shoulders or rub her back but she shot up and began to cry out what she had contained since Ymir left. “I can’t stand it! Why? She chose them over me?!” Her eyes snap up to meet your bewildered expression. “She said we’d live for our own sakes. But now she’s left me behind.” She falls down to sit on her knees, letting out a shaking breath and dropping her head again, letting the rain shower over her hunched body. “Just like everyone else did. My father, my mother—Ymir left me.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you could offer in a broken voice as your own eyes fell, and filled with similar glum emotions. “I can’t offer you a clear explanation as to why Ymir left, but I can offer you some comfort.” You look up at the same time she does. “As to your parents, just know you’re not alone. My father left me too. My mother…well,” you shrug, “I don’t remember her. Not even a bit, so I don’t think she was a good person worth remembering.” You offer her an assuring smile while you wipe off the water that dripped down your nose. “It hurts. I know, trust me, but you said that you and Ymir would live for your sakes right? Well, do it. No matter what.”

Historia’s eyes flicker up to you and she wipes the tears and raindrops off her cheeks. Her lips maintained her frown, not giving any indication if she would take the advice, but she did nod stiffly, letting you know that she was at least listening to you.

——

“I’m done cleaning upstairs!” You exclaim as you rush in the kitchen. “It took forever since no one helped,” you look at Connie. “But,” you sigh in relief, “It’s spotless.” You pull the mask off your mouth and let it hang around your neck, seeing Eren look back at you to address your comment.

“Good. Captain Levi is almost here. We just need this area here before we’re done.”

You swipe the bandana off your head and can’t help but smile sadly at a passing memory of Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oluo in a similar cleaning situation. It’s something you couldn’t help but share out loud. “You know what this reminds me of?” You direct to Eren. “Cleaning with the Levi squad. The first one.”

“Yeah,” Eren nods slowly as his eyes fall back to what he was sweeping. His shoulders dropped but he hid what he felt with annoyance. “Only they knew how to clean.” His hands clench tighter around the broomstick and he begins to grumble. “Now it feels like we’re the only ones doing all the work.”

Connie shoots his head up and glares at Eren. “Hey man! Am I painted on the wall or something?”

You smirk and throw the bandana on the dirty pile basket. “You have room to learn.” Before he could add a snarky remark the door opens and Sasha, Jean and Armin walk back inside with the boxes of rations that had arrived.

“Hey!” Eren exclaims to the group, “did you guys wipe the dust and dirt off your shoes before you came in?”

“Huh?” Jean questions as he looks up at Eren whilst he sets the sacks of food down. “No, we didn’t. Can't you see all the stuff we’re carrying?”

You scoff at Jean’s comment and grab the canister from Armins hands to put it on the table whilst you watch Eren march towards Jean to complain further. “Do you seriously think that attitude will satisfy Captain Levi?”

You peek over at the duo and pretend to do something around the kitchen to continue listening to the argument—“If I hadn’t personally made your bed this morning—” Eren argues, making you snort.

Jean hears you and looks to you with a widened and almost horrified expression before his eyes snapped back to Eren to shout at him out of embarrassment. “Shut up! Quit nagging! Who are you, my mom?”

“We’re back.” Mikasa announced as her and Historia finally rejoined the group inside.

“Wait,” Armin protested, “were you just chopping firewood?”

You tilt your head and narrow your eyes on her. “I thought I told you no heavy lifting, and to tell me when you were leaving.”

“Gotta stay in shape.” She quips.

“You got grabbed by a Titan!” Armin shouted as he stepped towards her. “You should be in bed.”

“I try to stop her, but she won’t listen,” Eren interjects in a grumble. “I saw her doing sit ups earlier!”

You sigh and watch Armin follow after her to continue scolding her in his own gentle way before Sasha interjected. “It’s almost like we’re back in the Cadet Corps.”

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Why do you figure we were chosen for the new Levi Squad, though?” Armin can’t help but ask. “Protecting Eren and Historia is such an important mission.”

That was a good question, and one with many different possibilities, but only one you could think of, and Sasha said that for you. “Because we’re talented, I assume.” Albeit she didn’t say it in your exact words. Regardless, as she was answering Armin, she quickly shoved something in her bag that caught your immediate attention.

“Sasha,” you grimace, “what did you just put in your bag?” You turn to face her with a fuming and intimidating glare, but all Sasha does is slowly look up at you with an unaffected expression to lie to your face.

“Nothing bread-related.”

“Why, you!” Jean cut in as well whilst he stormed towards her.

You move towards her and snap back. “Give it back.” “Hey, focus!” Eren interrupts, “we gotta finish cleaning before the Captain gets back!” However no one really listened as you all tried to fight Sasha to put the bread back before said man you were trying to avoid getting upset, walked in.

“What’s the commotion about?” Levi broke the tension, creating a much thicker one as he walked towards the table, causing your shoulders to stiffen, and your angry expression to fall while you met Erens matching concerned gaze. And as Levi swept his hand under the table and dust and dirt fell from the wood, that concern turned to slight fear. Even more so as he lifted his hand and faced the group to address the situation. “I’m quite sure I gave you enough time.” Levi grabs his cloth from his pocket inside his coat and cleans off the dust and dirt collected on his fingers. “Anyways, we’ll discuss your lax cleaning job another time. Eren, Hange is itching to get the experiment started.”

As far as experiments went, you thought it went rather well for the first two hours. Eren listened well to instructions while in his Titan form, he performed all his given tasks well too and you couldn’t deny that he was impressive; he could write, he couldn’t speak because of the shape of his mouth, he could last a pretty long time, but only transform a few times before he seemed to go groggy and lose memory as his consciousness dwindled. The one thing he couldn’t do was harden himself like everyone wanted him to. It was weird, but there was an explanation, there always was.

——

“Huh? What was that?” Levi asks Hange after they and their squad walk into the small cabin, with their face contorted into distress and a hint of sadness.

“He’s dead…” they announce once more. “Pastor Nick. He was murdered. This morning, in the Trost District barracks.”

Levi’s face grows even more serious as the thoughts in his mind begin to churn, he hums and shows no remorse like Hange was. Instead he guided everyone to sit around the table and the couch beside it so Hange could explain in more depth what they and Moblit had seen, and what their thoughts were behind the bloody scene. And as they talked you grabbed the pot of tea you had made and served Levi, Hange and rest of the older Scouts before you walked back to sit on your seat. Albeit before you could serve yourself, Connie pushes his empty cup towards you, and quietly, and discreetly points to it so you could get the hint to serve him first. You smile kindly and grab the cups you set on the table to serve everyone but him.

Now you weren’t being petty, or anything. Not even because he was assigned to clean the table and didn’t clean it well the other day, causing you and the rest of your friends to get a long cleaning speech. No that’s not it.

Regardless you sat down beside Jean and across from Eren, feeling your mood go down as Hange continued with the heavy topic. “I figured the Church would want to deal with Nick since he was cooperating with the Scouts.” Hange explains, “that’s why I hid his identity and had him stay in the barracks, but….to think they would use soldiers to kill him. I was too careless. It’s entirely my fault.”

The room goes quiet for a minute, growing the tension thick enough that it felt as if you were carrying it on your shoulders. You tried to ease the tension, but such a grim topic was hard to brush off, especially as Armin decided to add onto the weight of the tension. “The military police…did they torture Pastor Nick just to find out what information he spilled to us?”

Levi sets his cup down and answers Armin in the same serious and unaffected voice. “Most likely. But it was the Interior Military Police, which means there’s something more behind it. So,” he turns and looks to Hange. “How many nails did Nick have ripped off?”

“Huh?”

“You saw, right? How many?” Levi asks, making you swallow thickly and tighten your hold around your teacup.

“I only caught a glimpse of him,” they answer, “but all the nails that I could see.”

“People that talk, talk after one.” Levi explains, “if they don’t, peeling more won’t make a difference.” Levi looks away from Hange, but continues, not noticing how you began to quickly tap the side of your cup out of uneasiness of the gruesome conversation. Perhaps it was something you needed to get used to, but fighting and killing Titans was one thing, talking of hurting human beings was something else completely. It was never part of your job, nor anyone else’s in the Scout Regiment.—“Pastor Nick…I thought he was an idiot, but. He didn’t turn away from what he believed, all the way til the end. In other words, they have no idea we’ve caught wind of the Reiss family. Though, someone in the government is up to no good, and their eyes are fixed on us.”

Right as Levi finishes, the front door opens and a soldier named Nifa, from Hanges squad, walks in and heads directly towards Levi to hand him a note from Commander Erwin. “I went to tell him about Pastor Nick, but he sent me off with this.” She shares while Levi reads the words on the small paper that made his eyes narrow deeper, and his shoulders stiffen much tighter. Once he finishes reading the note he looks up and urgently addresses the whole room.

“Everyone, out. We leave now.” Levi announces while he stands from his chair. “Leave no trace we were here.”

There was no moment of hesitance after Levi’s announcement, what little you all brought was packed in your personal bags. After that a blood pumping rush ran through everyone as you escaped the cabin to get to higher ground, and deeper into the forest where you could only hope no one was in. With the adrenaline that rushed through your veins you didn’t feel the chilly evening air, nor really catch that you had walked far until everyone stopped on a hill that overlooked the cabin getting raided by military police.

“That was close,” you breathe out while you tear your eyes from the scene down below.

“If we hadn’t left right then, what would’ve happened to us?” Connie asks with his eyes peeled back widely, expressing the shock and slight fear that ran through him.

You glance at Connie to answer his wondering question. “We would’ve been caught, Eren and Historia would’ve been taken and they probably would’ve left us for dead after beating us up.” You’ve seen it happen once when you lived underground, you weren’t supposed to see the Military police beat up a couple of young teens trying to take some food, or whatever it was they had taken, but Furlan, nor Levi managed to pull you away from witnessing the scene in time.

Nonetheless, Connie's head slowly shifts to you with his eyes expressing more horror after your words. His lips part, but all he does is inhale a small breath of air before you turn to check out the small patch of woods in front of you—you couldn’t apologize for your honesty that he hadn’t witnessed before, that he was blind to due to where he grew up. He had to know, those who didn’t know before had to know too. The world was a beautiful place, but life inside the walls also had their own monsters.

“But why?” Armin inquires, “what would make Commander Erwin…?”

“New orders came from the government.” Levi revealed. “There’s been a freeze on all Scout Regiment activity outside the wall. They’re telling us to hand over Eren and Historia.” At Levi’s words, you once again turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, feeling yourself full with buzzing curiosity at the new piece of news that just kept piling on.

“By the way,” Nifa interjected, “right after he gave me the message, the Military Police came for him.”

“They’re treating him like some sort of criminal!” Hange exclaimed bitterly.

“Someone’s not working from the shadows anymore,” Levi continued, “they’re moving for all eyes to see.”

“To go far to protect the wall's secrets.” Hange added while she faced Levi. “What’s more, why do they want us to hand over Eren and Historia? Not to kill, but for them to obtain?”

You clench onto the rifle in your hands and suggest, “Control?” You turn around and continue to add your thoughts out loud. “Whoever is deciding to finally come out and play, is no lowlife scum.”

Levi glances at you and nods, “you’re right. But,” he says as he looks away. “Who knows? Anyways it’s clear the enemy is after these two. Loitering around here is dangerous. We’re moving her and Eren to Trost District.”

“Why?” Moblit protests. “That’s the same place Pastor Nick was killed.”

“It’s worse to head towards the interior. With Trost in a panic, it should be easy to slip in,” Levi says, “and if somehow it comes down to it, we can use these in the city.” He pulls a side of his cloak and looks to his odm gear. “Plus, not knowing the enemy puts us in a tough spot. We need to find out who’s behind this.” he looks to Hange. “Hange, lend me some of your squad.”

“Of course,” they don’t hesitate to answer while they tap their chin and glance down for a brief moment, before once again facing the group. “All right, I’m going after Erwin.” They continue to turn to the man beside them. “Moblit with me. The rest of you will follow Levi.”

“Roger!”

As Hange climbs on their horse, Eren calls to them and hurries after them. “Hange! Here.” He hands them a folded up paper. “I remembered a conversation between Ymir and Bertholdt. Didn’t get to tell you, but it’s here.”

“All right,” Hange says as they grab the note and stuff it in their pocket while they climb onto the horse. “I’ll take a look at it later.”

“Be careful,” you wave at them, making them shoot you a faint smile before they ride off with Moblit. The rest of you being left having to walk through the forest as the sun set further by each passing second.

Levi led the squad, leaving you behind to eye the shadows that lurked in the forest that surrounded you. You wanted to distract yourself by thinking that running from the Military Police, and being seen as some criminal must be nostalgic to Levi since he left the underground to escape that life, but now it seemed it followed him here. Just like it also followed you, something he had wanted to avoid when he thought of making a life above ground. It’s funny how that works.

Regardless, the sun disappeared completely, taking away the security of its bright light and leaving you in a freighenting darkness that lamps couldn’t ease its eerie presence, making you walk closer to one of the people that could bring comfort to this traumatizing situation, Jean. “Why is it that we always have to move in the dark?” You grumble.

Jean glances at you and answers. “Because it’s better to hide in the dark. We aren’t as easily spotted.”

“I know,” you sigh deeply, “it was a rhetorical question.” Your eyes flicker over to him and right as you were going to meet his gaze you look up at the hat on his head, and you can’t help but smile. “I—”

“Don’t laugh,” he grimaces bitterly.

“I wasn’t,” you lift your hands whilst you meet his gaze. “Honestly. I was going to say that I like your hat. I think it looks nice. It gives off, uhmm,” you tap your chin and look ahead. “Cowboy type of vibes, or,” you clap, catching the brief attention of Armin and Eren in front of you, “some sort of a gangster.” You look at Jean again and tilt your head, noticing he seemed to be holding his breath and that his eyes had lost their intimidation. “Maybe that’d work better with a suit though, so cowboy it is.” You grin but he’s quick to look away. “It’s a nice look on you, Jean.”

Unlike Eren, Armin's eyes stayed on Jean and you for a moment longer to study your gestures, and hear the words coming out of your mouths. He could think nothing of it, after all he thought of Jean and you as a weird pair of friends. But he was quick enough to catch Jean’s flustered expression hidden under the hat he had on, and that set off a new curiosity within him that he wanted to further explore.

“Whatever,” Jean brushes you off with his head completely facing away from you, and his expression hidden by his hat.

You scoff lightheartedly and roll your eyes. “It still looks pretty ridiculous at night though.”

“It’s so they don’t recognize me,” Jean snaps.

Your eyebrows furrow and you snort. “Who's going to recognize you out here at night? The shadow man? A ghost? Or maybe a raccoon?”

Jean slowly turns his head to glare at you. “You’re about to become unrecognizable.”

“Oh,” you smirk, “I’d love to see you try.” You look to the front of the group and point to Levi with your eyes. Jean scoffs and leans closer to you to whisper. “Yeah, consider yourself lucky. For now.” He squints his eyes, “but watch your back. Cherry.” He mocks.

Your smirk deepens and you lean in closer to him too, holding his gaze intently and licking your lips as they tug to a smile. “Again. I’d like to see you try. Jean-boy.” Your eyes linger on his for a while, noticing that his lips turned to a smirk as he held his confidence high, not letting show the feelings that he felt fluttering inside. A tension rose between the little gap between you, but you were oblivious to it, unlike him. But he did nothing to point it out and make it clear to you, all he did was watch you blink and look away. After that you proceeded to part away from him and fall at Levi’s side. “Hey, Levi, so how are we planning to sneak into Trost with Eren and Historia? A big group will attract attention, and what if there's some dressed up Military police members in the crowds already expecting us?”

Levi glances at you before he looks at Jean and Armin over his shoulder to simply say, “I have a plan.”

——

“This is so, so stupid.” Jean grumbles beside you.

You shoot him a side glanced glare and nudge his arm. “Shush.” Your eyes return to the streets you’re marching through and they scan every stand open as you pass them, they lift to the roofs and catch the flags that hang from roof to roof sporting bright colors, your eyes search the crowd that is unusually big and clustered, falling from person to person no matter how young or old they are. One just couldn’t be too careful, you needed to look over your shoulder….it needed to become second nature no matter how bad that sounded. You needed to think as if every person that wasn't the Scouts, your friends and family was hostile, even if you hated to think that way of people.

Every person was against you until proven otherwise. Or at least that’s what Levi says in a time and mission like this. But it was so hard to think that way, especially when you saw the hungry and homeless people on the streets asking for food, or money after the destruction created in the city. And it seemed now there were a lot of those around, cities above ground were beginning to look like the underground, it was hard to see their sad and angry faces. So you had to put your hood over your head to avoid searching for those hallowed faces.

“So what, I can’t complain now?” Jean snaps in a sharp whisper. “He does that a lot.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “and it’s annoying. So shut up.”

Jean shoots you a brief glare before he picks up his pace to leave your side. And if it wasn’t for his undercut and his tall figure, from behind his wig would fool you into believing he was the boy he was pretending to be. Not the front though, you could pick him out in a crowd even with the wig on, he….had a very long one of a kind face.

“Try not to walk in a cluster.” Levi repeated to the group, “we’ll stand out. Eren and Historia, just walk normal.”

If he kept talking like that every ten minutes, someone would notice, no matter how far apart you’re all spread out.

“Why is the royal family’s flag hanging everywhere?” Connie asked as his eyes roamed the colorful flags overhead.

“Oh! Today must be the anniversary of the King's coronation.” Sasha answered, making your eyes return to look at the flags over your heads. “Once a year, they hand out a haul of rations.”

A man begins to announce what Sasha had pointed out, but your attention goes to the flower stand you walk by and your eyes get lost on the big, beautiful bright yellow sunflowers decorating the front of the stand. A soft smile tugs on your lips and a gleam sparkles in your eyes. You’re tempted to walk to it and buy some since they were your favorite, but you hold yourself back…as hard that was. It was such a brief moment that you didn’t think anyone would catch you, but someone did, they just didn’t say anything and instead admired your smile as your eyes remained on the yellow petals. When you pass the stand, you pull your eyes off the flowers and notice your group came to a stop, and before you could bump into Connie, you stop in your tracks and listen to what Sasha commented over the man’s announcement.

“What a king! He sure is generous!”

You scoff at her comment and before you could remark something, Levi beats you to it. “He’s got more than he knows what to do with. People are weak, especially when baited with food.”

“I have an idea,” you scoff, “they could take some of those rations underground. There's a lot of people who really need it down there.” You glare at the announcer as if he was the King in charge.

“We’re considered riff raff down there,” Levi replied to your bitter comment. “Or don’t you remember? They didn’t care about us, they still don’t care about them.”

“Yeah,” you huff out after you return your gaze to the path ahead. “I remember.”

The walk after that talk is quiet, uncomfortable and nerve wracking as no one knew when someone was going to attack your group and take Jean and Armin, or should you say, “Eren and Historia.”. Everyone had to keep looking over their shoulders and keep their guard up, only making yourselves more suspicious. Part of you believed you would get away without getting attacked, but you needed to for the plan to work. And it did happen as Levi had planned—“Watch out! Behind us!” Levi bellowed after he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Before you could look back, you heard the speeding carriage racing your way that he had warned you about. As it sped past you, you jumped out of the way and had to hold back from fighting their attempts as you watched them take “Eren and Historia”. Yet you couldn’t help yourself from screaming out their names. “Je—Eren!” Sasha seemed to have the same trouble as she yelled out for Armin, but soon corrected herself and called out for who they were pretending to be. And even if you were going to save them regardless, the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen and you had to fight the urge not to instantly catch up to them. Really just run after Jean.

*A FEW MINUTES LATER*

“Calm down Cherry,” Levi assured you from behind you. “You reek of anxiety. We’re going to save them.”

You gnaw at your cuticles and take a deep breath. “This plan is shit. I can’t stand not knowing what they could be going through.” You lift your eyes and pull your thumb away to stand up as Mikasa joins you on the roof. “So?” You instantly ask her impatiently. “How is it going inside?”

“If we don’t hurry, they’ll see through Armin's disguise.” Mikasa informs Levi and you before looking away from your worried gaze. “And I feel bad for him.” She lowers her head.

Shit—you lift your finger to your lips and begin gnawing once more as you sink down on the roof, hearing Levi respond with a simple, “I see.”

“How is your leg?” Mikasa looks back at him. “Any better?”

You look over your shoulder, seeing Levi peek over his own before grabbing his knee and answering. “I can move well enough. It’s not bad, thanks to the things Cherry made for me.” He looks back at the streets below. “More importantly, these kidnappers…they’re nothing but amateurs. Why would they be using guys like this?” He stands up and takes a step forward, letting your eyes, like Mikasa’s, watch him carefully. “You both can handle the rest on your own. I’m heading for Eren. Once you’ve dealt with the trash, come and meet up with me.” He keeps walking ahead, assuring himself with the short comprehensive answer Mikasa gave him. “One more thing,” he stops at the edge of the roof and looks back. “I’ll tell you, just in case. Tell Armin and others, too. From now our enemy won’t only be Titans,” he pauses and looks away. “But other humans too.”

Your eyes widen and it feels as if all the wind had been knocked out of your lungs. You part your lips to argue, to interject with anything against his comment, but there was nothing you could say, even if you could, Levi left before you could think of anything. After that you tried to look at Mikasa, to see if she was struggling like you were, but she remained expressionless, and cold, or at least that’s what she wanted you to believe. You didn’t know what she was really thinking. She was a lot like Levi in that way.

Nonetheless, there’s a silence that falls over after his comment where you feel your whole body stiffen, and your heart sink to your stomach. Your body grows cold and a grim feeling takes over your anxious state for a brief moment where the silence feels deafening, and the question of “can I really do this?” Begins to linger in your head, making you nauseous. That question was brief before your mind was overridden by instincts that told you that you could and it was the right thing if it came to it, but your conscience told you otherwise. It turns you gloom and makes you stiff as your instinct, and your conscience battled with one another to have a winner.

Neither of them won. Mikasa interrupted you before the battle could be decided. “Let’s go.” She stands up to fly back to the other roof, but stops once you’re behind her to scold you. “And stop eating at your hands. You’ll ruin your cuticles.”

“Right,” you whisper as you pull your hand away and then follow her to the other roof to fall in your assigned position. When you hear the deep voices inside, you peek your head inside the open window, and prepare your fighting stance as you watch the floor and Mikasa down below. In the center of it all, you could see Jean and Armin tied up with their disguises still intact, which was something that should bring you comfort since they hadn’t been discovered, but seeing them in that position made you uneasy.

Regardless, their disguises were beginning to be questioned by the man leading the small group that walked in the storage room. “You’re sure, without a doubt, it’s Krista and Eren?”

“Yes,” another man nods, “they match the description.”

Yeah sure they do. Armin perhaps resembles Historia in some way, but Jean was not even close. They all sucked ass—you think to yourself, scoffing and rolling your eyes before taking a step closer to the window and meeting Mikasa’s dark eyes after they looked up to quietly signal you.

“Huh? Where’s the guard?” With that question uttered, just as Mikasa moves forward, you jump down the window whilst you take your cloak off and let it float down, while you land on the ground and look up at the tall startled man with a cocky smirk. He tries to reach for his gun, but before his fingers could even touch its cold metal, you jump to your feet and roundhouse kick him to the ground, instantly knocking him unconscious after a single impact to his face.

The other two men who had been up front freeze from the shock, and watch Mikasa and you wide eyed out of fear. They try to reach for their guns, but before they could think of shooting, and without a single word uttered between Mikasa and you, you both sprint towards them. She jumps off the floor and you slide down past her body almost as if the moves were rehearsed; she kicks a man with red hair, while you swiftly get up and swing your leg to kick the other man to the floor. He intended to move after, but he couldn’t even catch your fleeting figure before you pin him to the ground and twist his arm to his back, causing him to groan.

A faint proud smirk tugs on your lips once the thought of what you did registers in your mind, but it’s fleeting before you grow serious again. Instead of thinking too much into what you did, you look back, noticing Jean and Armin were tying up the other two men, leaving you to look up to a window on the roof to address the boy you knew was waiting by it. “Connie! Is it really just the four of them?!”

Said boy pokes his head through the window and confirms your question. “Yeah, that’s it! Nobody else in the area!” Connie finishes, keeping your eyes on him and not letting you pay attention to the man reaching for the gun he had dropped. Not until you heard the whiz of Sashas arrow impact the ground just inches away from your hand, and pinning the gun to the ground before he could try to shoot you. The crash made your head snap to the arrow, and made your eyes widened out of shock.

“If you move again, who knows where I’ll hit?” Sasha threatened the man whilst your heart pounded in your ears.

“H-hey!” Jean began to exclaim in an angry tone. “What if you hit Y/N with that!”

“It’s Y/N’s fault for taking her eye off the prey.” Sasha countered.

You nod and look back to the man under you. “Yeah, no, you’re right,” you interject. “Sorry! I should’ve known better!” You stand up and pull the guy up with you.

“All right!” Mikasa yelled out, “first, we tie these guys up, then we meet up with the captain.”

Armin looks at her and questions her command. “What do you mean?”

“Captain's orders, and he sends a message, too.” She shares with your friends what Levi had told the both of you, and they react in the same speechless disbelief as you. This time though, you fought with yourself not to think about it further. Instead you focus on tying up the man in your hold, before you place him with others in a deafening silence that had set in the storage room.

That was until you were done and spotted Jean with the wig still on his head behind you—“Eren,” you say seriously. “Are you okay?” You stifle a laugh.

“Huh?!” Jean exclaims. “What did you just call me?!”

You turn with your eyebrows furrowed in concern to continue with your act as seriously as you can manage. Which was going surprisingly well. “Oh, it’s you Jean. I forgot, you know with the wig,” you point, “you fooled me.” You shrug. “Sorry.”

His eyes narrow to a piercing glare and a venom laces in his voice. “You’re not funny, you know that?” He snatches the wig off his head and throws it to the ground, before he turns sharply on his heels to storm past you and leave the storage room with his chest puffed out in anger. His reaction makes you giggle and you have to run to catch up to him.

“Jean, come on, I was only joking. Just trying to ease the tension.” You smirk and try to meet his burning glare.

Jean scoffs. “Yeah, just be quiet, I'm not talking to you.”

You snicker and grab his arm, making him go instantly stiff. “Come on, don't be a jackass. I was joking. Of course I knew it was you.” You scoff. “I mean anyone with eyes would know you’re not Eren, even with the wig on.” You look away from him to look at the upcoming large doors, whilst you begin to list what comes to mind. “I mean, you’re much taller, your eyes are brown and his eyes are green, you're more muscular than he is. You’re—” you suddnely cut yourself off and feel your cheeks burn hot after you catch what you had been saying.

You glance at him nervously and pull your hands from his arm, missing the smirk on his lips that had swept away any anger he had felt. “Yeah,” you nod and swallow thickly and pretend not to be affected by the tension you felt fall over you as you look away. “It was obvious.” You clear your throat and begin to fiddle with your fingers as you change the subject. “Anyway.” Your eyes flicker up to steal a glance at him. “How are you feeling over what Levi said? I mean, I know I was just joking around, but I’m being serious now.” You throw the doors open and you both walk out the storage room with Sasha, and Connie in tow.

Jean exhales deeply and pulls his eyes away from you to look ahead at Armin and Mikasa. “I don’t know. For the first time, I really don’t know how to feel yet. I mean,” he pauses, and unfolds his arms to clench his fists at his sides and furrow his eyebrows to glare at the dirt ground. “They’re people…that’s not what I signed up for.”

“Yeah,” you sigh and drop your hands to your sides. “I understand.” You lift your eyes to the sky, managing to catch two brown birds flying past your head. “We signed up to save humanity. Not to fight them. I don’t know what to feel either. I wish I could. I wish I could talk…” you pause, and return your eyes to look ahead and watch Mikasa use her ODM gear to fly to a roof that overlooks the street. You follow Armin and her, and don’t finish what you had thought of saying. Was it obvious that you dropped your comment so abruptly? Yes. But you couldn’t finish it. “I understand.” You end up saying. Your eyes flicker to Jean and you offer him a faint assuring smile.

Albeit Jean didn’t miss what you said. He didn’t return your assuring smile, or nod to say he understood, he stopped you after you walked past him on the roof. “Wait. Talk to who?”

You instinctively want to reach for your wings of freedom patch, but stop when you remember that you weren’t wearing your uniform. It saddened you, especially because even if he was gone, his patch brought solace to your aching heart—“We’ll talk about that later, yeah?” You brush Jean off. “Just don’t give up on us, okay?” You peek over your shoulder and meet his eyes filled with confusion.

Jean answers with silence; no nod, no verbal answer as short as it could’ve been. Nothing but silence as he tried to understand the thoughts running through his head. He was assured that you at least understood his struggle of morals…he knew everyone else did too, but he was assured more with the fact that you did.

——

“Gunshots!” You heard Sasha warn. After you hear her, you look to the roof she landed on with Connie and Armin, and follow where her finger pointed to. “I heard a bunch of shots!”

“You two think something happened?” Jean asks Mikasa and you beside him, while the three of you watch the streets ahead.

“Most likely,” Mikasa answers much more bluntly, before she runs forward to jump off the roof before either of you could protest against her quick actions. It causes Jean, and you to share a quick look that spoke hundreds of words neither of you spoke aloud before he, you, and others followed the sounds of gunshots alongside Mikasa.

Finding the commotion didn’t take long as you flew the sky, Connie was quick to spot Eren and Historia, passed out in their newly styled carriage. Following after them, you spotted Levi—“it’s Levi!” You point out with short lived relief, because after you spotted him, and you and everyone else began to change courses to follow him, some thug flew past and shot at Levi. The thug of course missed, letting Levi pierce his grapple hook in the man’s chest to pull him forward, so he could also fly forward to swiftly slice the man’s stomach.

You were left speechless, stunned, and wide eyed after witnessing the bloody scene, but you kept yourself focused on the chaos you were now in the middle of. You had to.

“Chase the wagon!” Levi instructed the squad once you all got close enough. Albeit, Mikasa is the only one who answered right away—“listen up!” Levi continues after Mikasa. “They’re used to fighting other people! They already got three of ours. If we’re gonna get those two back, you can't hesitate! If you get the chance, you kill! Got it?”

“Roger!” Mikasa answered with inspiring determination.

Yet you couldn’t muster the will to answer like she did. You knew what you had to do, what the right thing was to avoid being shot, but you couldn’t wrap your head around killing other people. Mikasa seemed to be so okay with it, she didn’t hesitate to agree and do what needs to be done. And you admired that, envied her ability to not let her conscience get in the way when it came down to it. It would be easy if you were like that too.

“Armin, Jean! Secure the wagon! We’ll cover you!” Levi’s instruction pulled you from your train of thought, causing your eyes to slide over to watch Armin do as he was told, while Jean hesitated for a few seconds, eventually following orders, but just hesitating after witnessing another person being killed. And even if your stomach churned with the speeding thoughts of potentially having to kill someone, you kept flying forward with your blades slightly trembling in your hands, and your eyes bouncing from the carriage and your surroundings. And in that last moment your eyes fell on the carriage, you caught Jean on the floor and a woman pointing her gun at him as he sat paralyzed with fear and hesitation.

Instinct hit you then, like lightning striking the earth. There was no hesitation, your instinct shot straight through the battle of moral debate. Your eyes determinedly set on the pair, as your mind hit you with the possible outcome of what could happen to Jean paralyzed on the floor. And those thoughts didn’t let you fret to speed forward. “Jean!” Fear and panic laced in your voice, just like they vividly expressed in your face. Mikasa seemed to have the same thought in trying to save Jean, since you caught her also swooping down below. But just before either of you could swing your blades, you both heard a shot that made you both gasp and fly past the carriage.

The loud explosion that came from the gun made your heart stop, and your breath catch in your throat. You turned in the sky to face the scene, but you averted your gaze to avoid looking at the carriage where Jean had been. You didn’t want to look out of fear of what you'd see, you let the sound of the wind howling in your ears sound over your cracking heart. You wanted to turn away and avoid looking, avoid potential heartbreak in seeing yet another of one of your friends dead, but you forced yourself to look so you could witness the outcome.

Luckily heartbreak didn’t come this time though. Armin had been the one that shot first. It left Mikasa, you, and even Armin stunned for a few seconds, more so it left Jean alive and in disbelief. Not like you could rejoice over that fact because three thugs then flew overhead with their guns trained on the two in the carriage. They flew in fast and determined, having Levi get Jean out of the way, whilst Sasha picked up Armin just in time before the thugs could shoot aimlessly and manage to hijack the carriage.

However, determined to not let Eren leave, Mikasa began to follow them. Or at least tried with all her might, because after more thugs began to follow the carriage out of the city, Levi stopped her. “Don’t do it! Fall back!”

“But,” you protested as your legs twitched to move. “We can’t let them take Eren and Historia.”

Levi continued to struggle to fight Mikasa’s attempts to follow after Eren, as fear and panic had struck her heart like it had happened with you only mere moments ago. But unlike you, she couldn’t find instant relief in seeing he was okay, or getting him back to her, she had to stay with those emotions aching her heart, only being able to express them out in a loud cry. “Eren!”

It was a cry that made your feet move forward to try and chase after them. Albeit you also got stopped. “Y/N.” Levi called to you too. “Stop. We have to let them go.”

——

“…it’s okay now. That guy is tied up, and after today you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Jean’s voice sounded through the echoing silence in the storage room. He had been talking to Armin for some time now; in a soft and low voice that you were surprised you could hear. While Armin had tears welled up in his eyes and his words barely came out in soft chokes. You didn’t exactly know word by word what they were sharing to each other, but you knew the context of their conversation, and it involved something a sick guy that had been guarding him and Jean had done to Armin.

It was upsetting to hear Armin so upset and affected by what happened, it made you want to help comfort him, but with your mind in shambles over the news you were all told, you weren’t a good person to talk to at the moment. You couldn’t provide what he needed, but it seemed Jean was patient, and sweet enough to try and comfort Armin. He was the only one.

“I’m sorry it happened, Armin. I am.” Jean continued. “He’s not going to do anything anymore, and I promise he’ll pay for what he did, for what he said to you.”

At the sound of Jean’s words you look away from the plate in your hands and look up at him to steal a brief glance. Noticing his softened, and worried gaze by the bright yellow light of the lamp sitting in the middle of the group, and seeing his hand gently grabbing Armin’s shoulder. And you didn’t know why, but you caught yourself smiling softly at the sweet interaction. Yes, you’ve seen him act kind before, he may act tough, but if you pressed the right buttons he could be soft, but seeing that now made your heart flutter.

The feeling was sudden, but you did feel it, and it was…weird? Yeah….Weird, but also not unwelcomed or wrong. Just weird because you felt it happen with Jean.

Moreover, while you struggled to understand what you had felt, you were caught off guard and got caught looking as Jean’s eyes flickered over to you. You of course proceeded to look away as fast as humanly possible, and instead foolishly looked down at the food in your bowl in hopes he wouldn’t notice. But you werent blind, or dumb, he obviously met your eyes for that quick second before you could look away—fucking embarrassing that’s what that is.

“Are you going to eat? Or are you going to watch your food get cold?” Levi startled you.

“No.” You snap your eyes up to meet his gaze.

“No, what?” He deadpanned.

You shake your head. “No. I’ll eat.” You return your gaze to your food and scoop some up, but just before you could bring the spoon up to your mouth, you drop a hold of the wooden spoon and once again meet Levi’s gaze to ask him a serious question. “Levi, is it,” you pause and sigh, dropping your eyes to your bowl once more. “…is it right to kill people? I mean we’re supposed to save humanity, not kill them. So is what we’re doing, right?”

Even if you were willing to…kill someone in order to save Jean, in that moment your mind and your body were fueled by this instinct. It was only because at that time your mind wasn’t a clustered mess filled with overthinking, guilt and hesitation, your mind was abundantly clear with what you needed to do. But now that you were sitting, the confusing mess in your head returned and doubled in size. You just wanted to clear your mind again, but in a different way with actual answers to assure yourself with. Even if those questions made Levi have to think of a clear answer.

He exhaled deeply and tried to answer your heavy question, but how could he give you a clear answer when he didn’t even know? He could lie and say it was so you wouldn't hesitate and end up the one dead, but he couldn’t lie to you, or any of his squad members. He promised you the truth ever since you were a little girl, he’s lived to that promise even when things got too difficult for you to comprehend. But he’s always had the truth even if he did sometimes avoid saying it. The only difference now was that he didn’t know what that truth was. There was nothing to avoid, there was just a disappointing answer he could give you.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, and heard you exhale deeply with discontent. He wished he had the answer, but he didn’t.

You nod. “Okay.” You then sit in silence while you eat your food, not paying attention anymore to what happened around you until Levi broke the deafening silence moments later.

“What’s wrong? This grimy place kill your appetite?” Levi directed at Armin.

“No.” Said boy shook his head. “Jean, there’s something I don’t understand.”

Jean lifts his head and queries. “What’s that?”

“When I shot that gun to save you. I honestly thought I didn't make it in time.” Armin shared, “sorry, but why was I the one who shot first?”

You lift your head and lift your eyes to look at Jean, seeing him lower his head, and squeeze his eyes shut as his breath trembled while he remembered what happened. “That’s…”

“Because the other person hesitated,” Levi interjected. “It’s true.”

Jean’s eyes flew open and widened from the disbelief he felt at the sound of Levi’s words. He was quick to lose the surprise and instead grow serious. Even if you caught the falter in his voice. “Armin, I’m sorry…I should’ve done what I had to do.”

“I know what it is,” Armin spoke glumly. “The person that I killed…I bet they were a nice person. Someone that was much more human than I am. I pulled the trigger so easily…I did…I’m—”

“Armin,” Levi cut him off. “You’ve got blood on your hands now. You can’t go back to who you were.”

“Why would you say that?” Mikasa remarked.

“Embrace the new you.” Levi continued, “just think, if your hands were still clean…Jean wouldn't be here right now.” He paused for a moment to let silence fill the space so Armin and everyone else would understand his words. “I’ll tell you why you pulled the trigger…Because your comrade was about to die. Armin. Thanks to you getting blood on your hands, nobody on our squad ended up dead. Thank you.”

“Captain Levi.” Jean chimes in after, his eyes facing the light before him and his eyebrows furrowing and losing the uneasiness that were expressed in his face before. “I thought it was wrong to be fighting other humans. And wrong for you to order us to do it. I was afraid to be hurting other people. But…I’m the one who was wrong. Next time. I’ll shoot.”

“I never said anything about who was right, or wrong.” Levi countered, making your eyes drift over to him. “I don’t even know myself. Are you really the one in the wrong?” Levi briefly met Jean’s gaze that proceeded to widen right as he let out a shocked gasp. Neither of them said anything else on the matter, Levi left it at that before he stood up. “Now then, it’s about time we hear what he has to say.” Levi refers to the man you had taken down earlier today, a man you caught now, was Dimo Reeves.

Albeit before you could listen to the rest of the interrogation, Sasha returned inside and tapped your shoulder to gain your attention, “your turn. It should be quiet since the sun is setting.”

“Right.” You sigh and turn to head out. “I saved you some soup I made.” You point to the shitty dented pot on a box. “Eat up.”

Sasha grinned and then sped off past you to do as you said without an ounce of hesitation, letting you proceed to walk off outside and take your guarding post in silence.

Even if you knew time in this place was going to come to an end soon, Levi didn’t want to take any risks and be suddenly attacked, so he assigned a guardwatch outside the storage doors. And honestly even if you were out alone, whilst the sun left and the darkness of the night came, you didn’t mind being outside, it left you with time to think.

What's wrong?—you look up to the beautiful, fierce orange and yellow painted sky, and lean your head back on the brick wall—what’s right? I wish there was a clear answer, or at least something besides “I don’t know.”—It’s not as simple as what you wanted, but it would be something you could wrap your head around and understand.

It would be something.

You exhale deeply and drop your head to look at the dirt ground below your feet. Finding solace in the silence under the evening sky, until your peaceful silence was broken by a sudden long, and sharp whistle that sounded from an alleyway across from you.

“Hey, look at you.” A husky voice then broke through, causing you to snap your head up and look at the alley way. Spotting no one. Yet. “You’ve grown, baby Uri.”

Your eyes narrow on a figure that formed now that it was closer, and your hands wrapped around your hilts. “Now, now.” The voice scoffs. “Has that runt of yours not told you not to bring blades to a gunfight?”A bright gleam shines in the alleyway after the light of a nearby lamp hits the shotguns in the person's hands.

Under the light, you could also distinguish the figure stopping just at the end of the alleyway. You recognized that it was a tall, slim, intimidating old man with a hat on his long hair, and his eyes focused on you while his lips turned to a smirk. You intended to step back, but he pointed his gun at you before you could think of running to get Levi.

“Go in, or shout and I’ll tell my comrades to jump in and kill everyone inside. Be a good girl and stay quiet.” The man threatened.

Instead of showing fear; something you deeply felt in your bones at the moment, you instead narrow your gaze to a glare and lower your voice to a cold, intimidating tone. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man stepped forward and snickered, shaking his head and the shotgun in his hand. “Tsk. Now is that any way to talk to your papa?”

Your attempts at being intimidating, cold and unbothered dropped as everything went completely still and quiet. All except for the sound of your in disbelief grumble. “What?”

.

.

.

Tagged- @expectoscamander @greenygreenland @that-soft-lesbian-friend @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91 @avocadopoosae @romancried @victor-criss-bish @moo-moo-meadow

[applejuizz]

laughter of youth.

the scout regiment has managed to rescue eren and recover annie’s crystal from their enemies, yet at the cost of many soldiers’ lives. levi learns a valuable lesson of trust. characters: levi ackerman x gn! reader (platonic!), historia reiss, sasha braus, jean kirstein, mikasa ackerman, eren jaeger, connie springer warnings: canon violence (vague descriptions), mentions of blood/wounds word count: 1.764 inspired by attack on titan 2: final battle and the story of “our man”, the customizable in-game character.

Paperwork after paperwork after all the paperwork...

Levi had come to dread the sound of hasty footsteps pacing up to his wooden office door and its prolonged creak as Miss Four Eyes allowed themselves in carrying yet another pile of experiment reports, barely containing their unreasonable excitement. While they fervently sought the tiniest free space to fit the monstrosity held in their arms, their flow of Titan anatomy ramblings never ceased.

Levi, you won’t believe what Eren managed to do today...!

Victor - who the hell is Victor? - stood awake the whole night and was as energetic as ever in the morning! This new breed of Titans is quite interesting!

I keep naming these Titans and I won’t shut up already and I should slap myself before you kick me across the fields, Levi! - he couldn’t possibly describe the joy these words would bring him coming out of Hange’s mouth. Too good to be true, unfortunately.

He shifted into his chair, straightening his back and shaking off the annoyance that had been constantly pulling on his nerves for three days already.

Thankfully, his office was quiet and the hallway was blissfully empty. Hange had taken a day off from experiments to let Eren rest. On that note, Jean and Eren had stopped arguing for once, Sasha had ceased her relentless search of meat and he could finally relish in the silence surrounding him. It wasn’t often that he got to have such quiet moments to himself.

And because they were so rare, only when he got the chance to savor them did he realize how much he actually hated them.

It wasn’t that he disliked being alone - on the contrary, he loved solitude a little too much for his own good. Instead, he found that whenever he allowed his mind to rest, he was assaulted by intrusive thoughts and memories that he’d rather bury deep in the back of his consciousness. Perks of being a soldier.

His eyes took in rows and columns of observations on the papers in front of him. His hand signed each and every one of them away promptly, yet his mind was drifting, conjuring up crimson fields, disgusting Titan flesh sliced in half, the blood-curdling screams of soldiers trampled off their horses or chewed to their demise. Nothing he wasn’t used to. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t make his skin crawl sometimes.

He thought back to commander Erwin, weak and thinning, laying in a hospital bed with only an arm left. Levi knew his superior was a strong man; he didn’t worry much about his recovery. What did plant the seed of doubt in his heart was the fact that somehow, the man he’d thought nearly invincible had been so badly wounded, and that alone was a strong indicator of the deep shit they all were in.

And of course, the one member in his squad that had never returned from the battlefield hung dark and heavy over his consciousness, a shadow of guilt, the same damn story repeating itself over and over again. No matter how much he tried to avoid it, it came crawling back like an awful nightmare, looming over him along with the deaths of all the other people he has trusted and cared for. Isabel and Farlan, Petra, Eld, Günther, Oruo… and now them too.

I won’t die on you, sir!

Like hell you won’t.

Their promise rang in his ears as if trying to mock him. The shadows of his consciousness sneered at him: look what happens when you decide to trust people, you twerp. Should’ve known better. Haven’t you learned your lesson?

“Tsk.” He set the cup he’d mindlessly lifted back on his desk. The tea had gone cold. He’d have to ask someone to brew him another. Not exactly pleasant, but enough to distract him from the dark path his thoughts had gone onto.

Before he could even stand up from his chair, though, loud voices boomed from downstairs through the whole hideout and caused the floor beneath his feet to vibrate. They were followed by clattering of pots and Jaeger’s unmistakable yelling, obnoxious and over dramatic as always.

So much for his quiet moment.

With an exasperated sigh, Levi picked up his cup again and left his desk and the piles of papers behind, shaking off the last of his melancholy. These damn brats can’t get anything done without wrecking havoc first…

The kitchen was right beneath his office, so all he had to do was climb down the short flight of stairs, put the cadets back in their place, ask horseface to brew him some more tea and go back upstairs. Simple enough.

He came to the sight of Eren, Jean, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha and Connie all hunched around in a compact group, chattering loudly and all over each other. Historia’s dulcet tone surprisingly prevailed amongst deeper voices, although she was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait! You need bandages before anything else! The gash in your side isn’t looking good…”

“Yeah! You’ve literally been through hell and back!” Jean marvelled.

“No, guys! They need food!” Sasha exclaimed as if she'd made a grand discovery, grabbing a half-boiled potato straight out of the pot.

“Sasha, no! The potatoes aren’t done yet-”

“Oi, what the hell is going on here?!”

“C-Captain Levi!” Jaeger stumbled back on his feet, broom in his hands, his headscarf sitting askew on his head. The huddle immediately dispersed, everyone had gone dead silent. Levi scanned the room quickly, not paying much attention to the soldiers’ faces and rolled his eyes.

“I thought I told you to clean up the kitchen, not turn it into a pigsty!” He passed a critical hand over the table, gathering up the dust in his palm and making a grimace. Cleaning supplies, pots and cups were scattered all over the floor and the table, as if the cadets had all come to a mutual agreement of dropping everything at once just to see how many white hairs Levi would gain in his hair.

“B-but-”

“Get back to work and stop yelping, you’re turning my brain into mush.”

But before he could open his mouth to bark another order at Jean, his eyes finally landed on who was once the centre of the huddle: Historia Reiss holding on to a hunched figure’s arm, obviously attempting to provide support, but ending up resembling more of a lost puppy clinging to someone’s sleeve.

“Captain Levi!” the petite girl exclaimed, a hint of relief present in her voice, “I-I went to get water from the fountain and I found them there! They seem stable, but I think they might need a doctor-”

His thoughts were running at light’s speed, yet he couldn’t get his body to wake up from its frozen state at the bottom of the stairs. What must’ve only been seconds felt like hours. As if time had decided to finally slow down, to finally stop the nonsensical blurry of days, months, years passing by only to give him a chance to breathe. A chance to understand. Was it just too good to be true?

“Captain…?” Springer trailed off, eyes bulging out of his little bald head, and quickly recoiled as Jean subtly elbowed him in the stomach. Only then did Levi notice that he had been standing among the shattered porcelain of what used to be his teacup, his hand still hanging in the air as if clinging to the ghost of the object.

The cadet finally raised their eyes from the floor, face bloodied and battered, yet still brightened by youth and devotion.

“Captain Levi… sir.” They saluted in a weak voice, raising two fingers to their temple.

Their last name rolled off Levi’s lips in a stronger tone than he thought he’d manage, yet still trailed off a bit in disbelief. Clearing his throat, he stepped over the broken porcelain.

“So. You came back, huh?” Out of all the words piled up on the tip of his tongue, begging to spill out, the best he could come up with was a rhetorical question. But the soldier still let out a dry chuckle, straightening their back as much as their wounds allowed them to. Their legs wobbled and the Ackerman girl, who had been quietly watching from the sidelines, immediately jumped in to offer extra support. Seeing the usually stone-faced Mikasa’s facial expression filled with a flurry of emotions similar to those churning in his heart allowed him to relax a bit.

“Of course.” The wounded cadet answered. “I made a promise, didn’t I?”

Levi gave a slight nod, features stoic, yet he felt his heart grow with pride in his chest. The same glint of determination glowed in their eyes as it did back then, during their rookie days, when they had placed their fist over their heart and had sworn to stay alive. He had heard the same promise come out of so many of his dead comrades’ mouths that realistically, he shouldn’t have expected this particular soldier to honor it. Yet for some reason, unknown even to himself, he had chosen to place his fragile trust in them. Maybe it had been their thirst for revenge, or their sheer willpower which, dare he say, could surpass Eren’s; whatever it had been, he did not regret it.

He drew closer, steps light as feathers on the wooden floor and took advantage of their hunched position to card his fingers through their hair, ruffling it affectionately. These damn kids keep getting taller… he thought bitterly to himself. The gesture managed to transform their wince of pain into a look of total and innocent wonder. The look in the eyes of a kid who's just got the utmost gesture of validation from a parent.

“You’re a good kid,” he conceded, patting their scalp twice before letting his hand fall back to his side. He could barely recognize the gentle tone of his own voice. “Although were you not wounded, I’d have roundhouse kicked your ass for scaring everyone like this.”

The phrase hadn’t even been that funny, in his opinion, but they let out a joyous, loud laugh, contagious to the people around them. It even pulled a chuckle out of Mikasa.

And as he stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the laughter of youth, he finally understood. Placing his trust in these kids, fighting alongside them, protecting them with the price of his life were worth all the risks because they were humanity’s last hope. And he would do anything to one day see their joyful faces wiped clean of crimson wounds and dirt and death. Anything.

[silver-renjun]

Cafe 7 Dream: Haechan

Word Count: 2, 227

Warnings: violence, stabbing 

Read the prologue before reading this!  

You walked in to your 8 am class, late as usual. A bouquet of roses was waiting for you at your seat. You picked up the bouquet and read the note attached to it. 

You’re the most beautiful person in the world. You light up my life like nobody else. - Haechan

You took your seat and shot a confused look towards Haechan.

“What’s with the One Direction lyrics, dude?”

“No y/n, you’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to say ‘Oh my gosh Haechan, you’re so perfect! I want to go out with you!’” Haechan shook his head in disappointment. 

“Dude, I told you this wouldn’t work,” Jeno said.

“y/n’s too dumb to figure it out,” Renjun added. “y/n’s only going to get it if you’re direct.”

“Ugh, you’re right. Why’d I fall for someone so clueless?” Haechan rolled his eyes at you. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Sure, whatever,” you answered. You secretly had a crush on Haechan for months, but you did want to be teased by him. Even now that you had a date with him, you were still wary about opening up to him.

Your mind was on Haechan for the entire class. It usually was, but today you had more to think about than just his beautiful honey skin. You wondered why he suddenly asked you out, where he was going to take you, and if you two could really have a sucessful future together.

“y/n! Don’t stop taking those notes! You don’t want your boyfriend to fail, do you?” 

His voice snapped you out of your imagination. Perhaps the key passing this class was all that you were to him. You shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself.

You spend your day at the cafe working with Mark. The two of you were icing cakes. Haechan was in the back of the cafe baking them. You couldn’t keep in your questions about him any longer. 

“Mark. You and Haechan work together the most, right?” you asked.

“Yeah. This is about him asking you out earlier today, isn’t it?” Mark replied. You nodded. “I know the guy is weird and all, but I think he’s pretty genuine when it comes to his feelings.”

“You really think so?” you said with a smile.

 “He’s kind of had a crush on you for a while, so yeah. I’m actually surprised he didn’t ask you out earlier.”

You continued your shift with a smile, thinking about what Mark had told you. Maybe Haechan was a sweet guy after all, you just had to give him a chance. After all the customers were gone and cleanup was over, you made your way out the cafe door.

“Hey! Wait y/n!” Haechan screamed, running after you. “You weren’t trying to get away from me before our date, were you?”

“We’re going on the date now?” you said with a shocked expression.

“Yeah, didn’t I tell yo-” Haechan’s voice became quiet after he realized he had never told you the details of the date. “Well anyways, let’s get going.”

Haechan took you to an Italian restaurant. It wasn’t the most luxurious place, but it was definitely fancy for two broke college students. After a short wait, the two of you took your seats by the window.

“This place is beautiful, Haechan,” you said, trying to break the ice between you too.

“If you think water stains and ketchup is beautiful, then sure.”

“I was just trying to be friendly,” you replied with a laugh. “What’s beautiful to you Haechan?”

“Well besides, you?” Haechan gave you a smirk. “I think magic is the most wonderful thing in the world.”

“Like, card tricks?” you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“No, not like card tricks. Actual magic. Powers, potions, stuff like that. It’s all just crazy to me, yet so perfect.” Haechan had a look of wonder in his eyes. 

“You don’t actually believe in magic, right? You know those are just fairytales,” you said with a smile.

“Magic is real, y/n. The cafe is literally run by magic. How do you think we get so many customers? There’s a love potion in our food to get people to come back. That’s Jisung’s specialty, by the way. He’s a wizard. And Jeno, he’s a water spirit. And Renjun’s an oracle.”

“Oh yeah, right. And this place is controlled by magic too,” you said rolling your eyes.

“It is. Do not eat the mushrooms here. I had to learn that the hard way,” Haechan said with a dead serious expression.

“What, do people with magic abilities just naturally gravitate towards food service?”

“Well Chenle’s parents are like, super big deals in the magic world, so what they do is what’s popular.” 

“And what powers does Chenle have?” you asked.

“I don’t really know. It’s kind of a safety concern for his family to just share what abilities they have. They only use them when they’re in serious danger.”

“What about Mark and Jaemin?” You didn’t know why you were so curious, since you didn’t even believe the things he was saying.

“Regular people. Just like you. Well, actually they’ve been exposed to magic for their whole lives, so I suppose they’ve got an advantage over you.”

“And what about you? Since you know so much about magic, why don’t you show me some?”

Haechan paused before answering your question. “I don’t exactly have my powers yet. But if you still don’t believe me, I’ll have Jisung show you some magic tomorrow.” 

“Great.” You didn’t really believe what he was saying, but you didn’t want to argue with him either. Like Mark had said, Haechan was a weird guy. You figured that this whole magic thing was just something he did to calm his nerves. After all, he did have a crush on you for a while. 

The rest of the date went wonderfully. You and Haechan discussed everything from movies to your childhoods. You enjoyed Haechan’s wit that kept the conversation alive. There was never a dull moment between you two. At the end of the night, Haechan took you home to your apartment.

“I had a wonderful time with you tonight,” you said with a smile.

“Me too, baby, me too,” was all Haechan said before he pulled you in for the most passionate kiss you had ever hand. It felt as if time had stopped. Haechan only let go after he saw you struggling for air. With that over, Haechan left as if nothing had happened. 

The next day at the cafe, the boys were begging to hear about your date with Haechan.

“How’d it go?” Jaemin said.

“Did he make a fool out of you? Is that why you’re not saying anything?” Chenle asked.

“Come on Chenle, you know better than that. He probably made a fool out of himself first,” Renjun replied. The dreamies erupted into laughter.

“Well the first thing we discussed was magic. y/n doesn’t believe in it,” Haechan finally piped up. The boys became silent and exchanged concerned glances. “Guys, I told her about your powers. It’s not like we could have kept it a secret with her working here all the time.”

“I’ll show you some magic, y/n. Haechan told you what I do right?” Jisung said, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah, you’ve got a thing for potions,” you answered.

“I prefer wizard, but you’re still right.” Jisung grabbed a bottle with a blue liquid from under the counter. “This is liquid joy. It’ll instantly take you to the happiest moment in your life.” 

Jisung poured you a cup and handed it to you. You took a sip and were instantly transported to a wedding. You didn’t remember having the happiest moment of your life at some stranger’s wedding until you looked at the couple getting married. It was you and Haechan. Before you could take a closer look, you were back at the cafe.

“Wow. That’s actually crazy.”

“So you believe in magic now, right?” Haechan asked. You couldn’t muster up the strength to reply. You were still trying to process what you had seen. 

“So what’d you see, y/n?” Mark asked.

“I, um, uh-” was all you could come up with.

“Probably just some stuff from childhood. You guys know how strong that stuff is,” Jeno said. You smiled at him for saving you from an awkward situation. 

You spent your shift working with Haechan, which was exhausting to say the least. Nothing you did was up to his standards.

“It’s okay if you suck at baking, y/n. I still love you,” Haechan said before planting a kiss on your forehead. A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘disgusting’ came from the dreamies.

It became a habit for you and Haechan to go on dates after work. He showed you around all the restaurants owned by magical beings. One night, this list included his own apartment. 

“You said we were going somewhere fancy tonight,” you said as you sat down on his sofa. “Your apartment is a dump.”

“Well your idea of fancy is a goblin-owned Italian restaurant, so you shouldn’t be talking,” Haechan replied. Within a matter of minutes, he whipped up a small dinner for the two of you. He sat down next to you and pulled you into his arms.

“You know, you asked me about my powers on our first date,” he said in a soft tone. 

“Yeah,” you replied. You didn’t know where the conversation was going, but you were interested in hearing more. 

“There is one way for me to get my abilities immediately, but I’d need your help.”

“Sure!” you replied. 

“There’s this ritual that will help awaken my powers. I need the blood of a human to do it, though.” Haechan paused to examine your face. 

“And I’ve got plenty of blood! What are you waiting for?” you said. Haechan was shocked at your enthusiasm to offer your blood. As weird as the situation was, you wanted to help your boyfriend in any way you could.

“Okay baby. I need you to lie down on the floor and I’ll get things started, alright?” Haechan got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen.

“I feel like I’m in one of those stories. I’ve got a hot, vampire boyfriend who needs my blood,” you said with a laugh before you laid down on the ground.

“I’m not a vampire y/n. Those guys give me creeps,” Haechan replied. He stood in front of you with a knife in his hand. “I promise I’ll make it as quick as possible.” 

Haechan leaned down and pierced your skin with the knife. You screamed as the cold, metal blade dug into your leg. Your screams frightened Haechan, causing him to push deeper. His terrified face was the last thing you saw before you passed out. 

When you woke up, you found yourself in a hospital bed. You were surrounded by the dreamies. Haechan was sitting by your foot side, crying.

“Did it work? For Haechan?” you asked the boys.

“It did. He’s a fire demon,” Jeno answered.

“But that’s not important right now. He put you in danger!” Jaemin screamed.

“I wanted him to gain his powers,” you said quietly.

“Those rituals are so risky! Summoning your powers like that, you might go haywire!” Chenle yelled.

“But he’s okay, right?” you asked.

“Will you stop worrying about Haechan for one second! He used you! He put you life in jeopardy for his own benefit!” Renjun shouted at you. 

“y/n, I didn’t mean it. I just thought maybe I could try not to hurt you, and I didn’t even think you were going to agree with it anyways, and I should have known better, oh my gosh. Renjun even had a vision where I hurt you and I didn’t even listen to him, I just though maybe-” Haechan babbled between tears. 

“Renjun had a vision? You knew this was going to happen and you still did it? You knew I was going to get hurt and you didn’t even try to protect me?” you screamed. 

“I’m so sorry, please just forgive me, I really tried to not hurt you, I was wrong, I didn’t mean for it to be this way,” Haechan cried.

You couldn’t stand to see your boyfriend in pain. You thought back to what Mark had told you about Haechan. His feelings were genuine. 

“I forgive you.”

“What? Oh my gosh, y/n, I’ll never let you get hurt again, oh please, I’ll never leave your side, I’ll protect you for the rest of my life, I’ll-” Haechan threw himself into your lap.

“It’s alright, Haechan. I know baby, I know,” you said as you hugged him and patted his head. 

Select another route

[liddolwhynot2000]

Ruins

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Summary: You got your answer when he was visiting home on his off day, in the form of a love letter for a girl named Nanaba.

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Pairings: Mike/Reader, Levi/Reader

Genre: Angst, One Sided, why must I hurt reader, I'm mean I know

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Warnings: mention of child neglect, brothel, violence and prostitution

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You were just a lonely, sad child with parents who couldn't care less about her. Even at the tender age of 9, no one cared to feed you, to buy you anything or even acknowledge that you existed. You were just a burden, a nusiance they had never wanted. Even giving you the bare minimum care a child deserved was too much for them, so you were often left to fend for yourself.

Hence, no one even batted an eyelash at the fact that you were out in the dark, wearing a tattered dress and shoes that couldn't even classify as such. You didn't feel bothered, used to their shamelss mistreatment. You were all too familiar with no one giving a damn about you.

What you weren't familiar with was someone actually caring about you.

Mike.

He had felt like an angel to you, a blessing you hadn't thought you would ever recieve. Someone who cared about you, someone who wanted you to be safe.

You had met him when you were 11, as kids who lived in the same village in Wall Rose. Most of the other kids either avoided you or bullied you, because of your poor appearance. But he didn't.

He was nice to you. Giving you food, getting you clothes. Sometimes he took you to his house to have a meal. His mother and her kind smile made you warm. Within a few months of knowing each other, the two of you had gotten closer, to the point you spent more time in his house then your own.

One night, your parents hadn't opened the door to their house for you. You hadn't been surprised, for it wasn't the first time they had done so. You liked to think it was on purpose, a way of saying they wanted you to never come back.

You had ended up sleeping out in the rain and had gotten extremely sick. Mike had found you the next day and taken you back to his house. After that, you had never gone back to your parents.

Your parents didn't care. And frankly, for once in your life, you were glad about that.

Years would go by in this friendship, years of happy memories and softness. You had considered those to be the best years of your life. The two of you had grown up together, spending everyday with each other and having fun.

Until the two of you turned 15. By then you knew very well, that you were in love with Mike.

Too bad you had to learn the hard way that he didn't feel the same.

___________________________________

When you were 15, Mike set off to join the military. He had told you and his family that he would get into the top 10 and join the military police. His parents had been overjoyed, and his mother had privately told you something that had made your heart flutter.

She thought that Mike would marry you and take you to Sina with him.

It made sense really, after all, you had known each other for years. His parents had treated you as their own, to the point their guest room was your room. Your biological parents had left at some point, selling their house. You had been so happy in your life that you hadn't even noticed them leave. There had been a slight pang of hurt, one that would always exist at the thought of them, but you had moved on well.

The thing that made you think Mike actually wanted you was the fact that he had kissed you. Several times.

They had been short, sweet kisses. The two of you had been blushing messes by the end of them. Neither of you ever had enough courage to talk about them. But it only served to reinforce what his mother was saying.

Shortly after Mike left, you had found a job as a barmaid in a bar nearby. You hadn't wanted to inconvenience his family any longer, you already lived under their roof for free. The least you could do was earn your keep. It also helped keep you busy now that Mike was gone.

Mike's mother had begun to encourage you to write to Mike. She had told you that already saw you as her daughter, and could tell Mike felt something for you. Like a fool, you went along with it, thinking she might be right.

Mike had never said anything romantic to you, but it was always a possibility. Those kisses had been anything but platonic. His mother knew him best and you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to take the oppurtunity to try to get your feelings across.

So you began to write to him, hoping he would respond back. And he did. Your long, neatly written letters were often responded to, but with brief, polite letters. It was as though your friendship had changed, that you weren't best friends like before. But you convinced yourself you were wrong to feel that. Maybe he was just too busy to write much?

You often pretended you hadn't seen the three page letters his parents got from him.

You still kept writing to him, the shortness in your letters growing. He had stopped even bothering to respond on time. Often, you were met with radio silence.

It frustrated you, how the two of you weren't even friends even more. Your hopes of being his future wife had been far fetched to begin with, but he had stopped even letting you be his friend. Had you done something wrong? You hadn't even pushed him, only writing him friendly letters.

You got your answer when he was visiting home on his off day, in the form of a love letter for a girl named Nanaba.

____________________________________

The three years he would spend training in the military would fly by really. He only came home five times a year, and mostly spent it with his parents.

You clearly recalled the first time he came back to visit. You had helped his mother make a feast for him, it had consisted of all of his favorite foods. But he hadn't so much as thanked you, or even made eye contact with you. All your attempts at a conversation with met with pauses and a cordial tone.

It had made you feel unwelcome. As though you were just a guest in his house and not the best friend he had grown up with.

His parents had noticed of course, and once they thought you were asleep, had confronted him about his behaviour. It hadn't gotten anywhere, with Mike just insisting he was tired and not really feeling up to chit chat.

His strange behaviour towards you carried on everytime he visited in that year, to the point you began taking up late nigth shifts to avoid him. You would cook with his mother and make your excuses and leave.

Once his second year started, you had saved enough money to move out. Once his parents found out, however, they wouldn't let you go. They had never taken a cent from you and would continue to not. But they refused to let the girl they considered their daughter live by herself, finding it too dangerous for you to be on your own.

You had argued but accepted that they wouldn't let you go. A part of you wished they had let you go, because the next time Mike came home, he brought Nanaba with him.

____________________________________

When Mike was in his final year of training, you moved out.

It hadn't been an easy decision, nor a very welcome one for his parents but you had made it nonetheless. He and Nanaba were an actual couple now, much to his parents despair.

Maybe they didn't actually like the girl or they just didn't like how their son had been treating you since he had met her. But you had understood that you needed to leave. They were too stiff with Nanaba, making her feel unwelcome. It had led to several fights after she left, with Mike feeling justly angered at their treatment of his girlfriend.

By then, you had learned to live with the heartbreak he had caused you. So, with promises to keep visiting, you left to live in your own apartment.

You thought that was the end of that really. You would live on your own, visit his family from time to time, slowly grow apart from them and live out the rest of your life on your own. You had made peace with this and thought that it would end the conflicts between him and his parents.

But somehow, despite not being there, you had still continued to be the reason he fought with his parents. The last time you would hear them argue, he would tell them to stop letting you visit. Because it made him uncomfortable. He and Nanaba would get married someday and if they kept letting you be around, they would live somewhere else rather then with them.

You had been standing outside the door, ready to knock when you heard that. And without a second thought, despite your heart wrenching painfully, you had turned back around and walked home.

You were determined to never come back, so you had packed your bags and then gone into work. After informing your boss that you were quitting, you finished your last shift. You were planning on heading out to Wall Maria the next day, hoping to just cut contact with Mike and his family and start over with your life.

It hurt you more then you were willing to let on, his family had been the only parents you had ever had. And now, you were the reason they were losing their son. It wasn't fair, but what could you do? He had made his decisions and now you had made yours.

Just as you set your apron aside, and prepared to leave, there was a sudden pain in the back of your head.

And then, everything went dark.

____________________________________

The underground.

That's where you were.

You had been kidnapped and sold to a brothel in the underground, as if you were a piece of meat.

You had woken up, chained. Three middle aged men had leered at you with twisted grins, uncaring that you were sobbing in terror.

No matter how much you begged and pleaded, there was no turning around. You had been forced to shut up, after one decided you were too annoying and had slapped you. The other man had been in favour of beating you black and blue to teach you a lesson, but the third one had argued you wouldn't sell enough in that state.

After that, you had gone quiet as a mouse. You felt numb that this would be your end.

Your life had started out in ruins, with your parents shamelessly neglecting you. It had begun to build back up once you had met Mike and his loving parents, only for Mike himself to give you no choice but to walk away.

You thought you could walk away with your head held high a little, after all, at least you were capable of taking care of yourself now. But no, now your life was even worse then before.

When you had met Mike, you had been starving for food. He had offered you an apple and that was how you became friends. Now, as you sat locked in a room, dressed in rags, waiting for your first 'customer', you wished he had left you alone.

If only he had let you die back then, everyone's life would have been easier. Your parents would have gotten rid of their burden earlier, Mike and Nanaba wouldn't be struggling with his parents right now.

You snapped out of your misery as you heard a thump and sounds of someone screaming. You ignored it, having grown used to hearing weird sounds in the three days you had been here. Then you heard someone inserting a key into the door.

You gulped, as the knob turned and someone began to walk in.

It was a short man, with black hair and steel eyes. He looked at you neutrally, showing no emotions.

Once he shut the door, you began to back away on the bed, only to struggle against the handcuffs you were trapped with.

He began to walk forward and you began to cry.

____________________________________

A/N: Heyooo. So I want to do a part 2 for this, one that explores reader and Levi. But I don't know if that's what y'all want. Do tell! I can see this having two more parts, one for Levi and reader and one with Mike POV. Do tell what y'all would like! Till next time ⭐

[overdramatic-queer-antagonist]

And They Knew

I felt very bad about this fic so, as retribution I wrote a fic twice it’s size that is pure fluff.

"Tim, I want you to know I'm never going anywhere with you again," Jon said, drying his sopping wet hair off. Of course, everyone and their mothers knew that the threat was an empty one. So Tim hardly blinked. "Whatever you say, boss," He said with a smile as he slung his arm around Sasha. "Oh, come on, Tim! I'm the only one who wasn't thrown overboard!" Sasha complained as she tried to escape his grasp. "Exactly! It's really not fair to the rest of us if only one of us is dry, now is it?" "Well, maybe if you weren't so keen on jumping out of kayaks, you wouldn't be wet." "Oh, so it's my fault that my girlfriend is so perfect I couldn't resist giving her affectio- Hey!" At some point, Martin had come up behind the pair with a bucket of water and had, graciously, poured the entire bucket on Tim's head. "You know the rules," Martin said, "no being a simp. You agreed to it, Tim." Affronted, Tim argued, "It's not my fault, I'm in love with a goddess!" Or at least that's what it sounded like he said. The moment he said the word, "love" Martin had placed the, now empty, bucket on his head. Getting a muffled laugh from the now thoroughly bucketed man. Jon had dried his hair as much as he could and was now reading. He looked up and nodded towards Tim, "If you're done being gross-" an offended gasp from the bucket went wholely ignored- "Should we check out that restaurant we saw on the way here?" Sasha shrugged, "I could eat." Jon, Sasha, and Martin walked through the beach to the parking lot wordlessly. This decision was made through ridiculous hand gestures and pointed looks and was entirely to mess with Tim. Who, even as they left the beach, was Still. Wearing. A. Bucket. On. His. Head. This wasn't much of a problem until he got into the driver's seat, still refusing to take the bucket off. "Tim, why are you driving with a bucket on your head?" Sasha asked. "Spite," Tim said, tilting his bucket to make a pointed gesture at Martin. Martin groaned, "Okay, fine! You can take it off-" "Fuck Yeah," A freed Tim exclaimed. "-If you promise not to simp." "Slightly less fuck yeah." His freedom from the bucket is all well and good, but why not just have someone else drive?" Jon asked. "Oh, you sweet summer child," Tim said, clasping a hand to his heart, "Well, since you asked so nicely. Sasha was asleep on the way here and has no idea what we're talking about. I can tell by looking at you that you drive like my Grandpa, and gay people can't drive," Tim finished out the list by gesturing to Martin, who nodded solemnly, "It's true. I'm gay, can confirm." "I drive at a perfectly fine speed, thank you very much," Jon responded. Tim was gesturing wildly at Sasha, shocked that his and Martin's joke went unmentioned. Jon paused to look at the horrified Tim and asked, "What's with that look?" Tim recovered and grinned, "Sorry boss, we're just in shock that you would tell such a bold lie to our faces," he said in a tone that could almost be mistaken as hurt, if not for the snicker at the end. Sasha made a noise of disagreement, "I don't know, Tim. Maybe he speeds like a mad man. All that pent up stress. It's better than when he took it out on Martin."   Jon stared at the ground and nodded, "I am really sorry about that, Martin." Martin gave him a soft smile. "I know you are," he whispered. "Are you two lovebirds gonna get in the car, or do I have to grab the bucket?" Tim yelled from the driver's seat. Honking the car's horn as he did. Jon rolled his eyes but acquiesced. *** The drive didn't take long in the sense of nothing ever takes long on vacation. The twenty-minutes it took was dulled into peacefulness by the knowledge that they were in no rush. Sasha and Tim were arguing about the music, and somehow Jon had suggested they listen to a band he used to be in as a compromise. The car was silent as the first song faded out. Then it exploded into excitement. "Oh, my God! Jon!" Sasha exclaimed, twisting around from the front seat to face him. "That was amazing!" "Hell yeah, it was!" Tim agreed, "Man, boss. Didn't know you could sing!" Jon, for his part, folded in on himself, half preening, half mortified. Martin was grinning at him in silent awe, and that was Not making it any better. Jon bet the others could practically feel the heat radiating off his face as Tim drove them into the parking lot. "Man, we are learning so much about each other today," Tim marveled as he parked. "We should go kayaking more often." Martin looked at him in confusion as he stepped out of the car, "We already knew you were a simp, Tim." "I meant you coming out to Jon but, okay, be like that," Tim scoffed without any actual bite, following Martin onto the asphalt. Jon looked at Tim like he'd grown an extra head as he caught up with the pair, "Martin and I have been dating for six months." Tim looked disbelievingly between the (apparently) couple. "No way! No fucking way! How? Why?" He asked. Sasha patted him lovingly on the back, "I think he's having an aneurysm." "Did you know?" He asked. Sasha shook her head and shrugged, "No. I just don't really care. All this really means is Martin'll get the Simp Bucket too." Martin shook his head at Sasha."Check your preconceptions. Last week, Jon wrote me a love song." Tim doubled over in shock and pointed an accusing finger at Jon, "Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?" he yelled. "No, really! He's quite romantic!" Martin laughed. "And you're sure he hasn't been replaced by some shapeshifter who fucked with all our memories?" "Shapeshifters don't exist, Tim," Sasha said as she placed the Simp Bucket on Jon's head with a decisive thunk. "Even if they did, why would they need to fuck with people's memories? They could just act like their victim," Jon said from the Simp Bucket. "Ahaha!" Tim yelled, getting very into the joke despite having stepped into the restaurant. "They'd keep the memories of one person to psychologically torcher them!" "Wait. Why would a shapeshifter need to gaslight someone?" Martin asked as Sasha went and got them a table. "Because they feed off of fear!" Jon looked at Tim, amused as he removed the bucket from his head. "Okay. I'm not a shapeshifter. I just got therapy. But you should write a book." "Thank you! At least someone appreciates my vision. Even if it is NotJon." *** After a meal that was not as good as they wanted it to be but still alright, the quartet made the decision to head back to their hotel (also pretty not great.) The sun was setting, and everyone else had figured that they were done for the day, everyone except Tim, that is. When Tim and his brother, Danny, were little, their parents used to take them out here, and on the last day, they'd always sleep under the stars. This was their last night, and Tim wasn't about to let that tradition die. He ignored Sasha's confused looks as he packed a hell of a lot of blankets, some flashlights, and booze. "What's up?" She asked. Tim beamed at her and said, "Come with me." as he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of their hotel room. A few seconds later, and Tim was knocking on the door of Martin and Jon's room (Suddenly making a lot more sense why they got a couple's. Wow, they weren't even trying to hide it.) Jon opened the door, blearily, as if he had been sleeping, and gave him a questioning look. "No time to explain, boss man! Just get all the blankets you've got and meet me by my truck," Tim said, excitedly turning around before he was even finished. From behind him, he heard Jon ask, "Why would we have brought our own blankets?" Followed by Martin saying, "I've got a few!" and after a pause that Tim could only imagine being filled by Jon looking at Martin confused, Martin added, "What? Bed bugs." Tim felt like a kid again as he waited in the driver's seat, tapping at the steering wheel, giddily. Sasha kept asking him what they were doing, but Tim wanted it to be a surprise, so he just promised her she'd love it. Eventually, he heard the doors to the backseat close and, after looking back to wave, Tim drove off out of the parking lot. For the car ride, Tim was mostly silent. He didn't want to ruin the surprise, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Martin and Jon were asked him questions, which Sasha answered for him. After what felt like ages to the excited Tim, they made it to the clearing. It was the exact same clearing his family had used because if he was going to be sappy, he was going all the way. "O-kay. We're in the woods now," Martin said as the truck slowed to a stop. "Why are we in the woods, Tim?" Tim whipped around excitedly, "We're going to sleep here!" There was a pause for a second before Martin replied," You get that that's the kind of thing a serial killer would say before killing us, right?" Tim shrugged and made his out. "I meant like, in the truck bed. That's why we brought all those blankets. My family used to do it when I was a kid." "I don't really think you can fit four people in a truck bed," Jon said. "Then I guess we'll just have to cuddle!" Tim laughed as Jon groaned behind him. They did end up cuddling. They didn't actually need to, but you cuddle your homies, Steven. Through the silence and the stars, Martin had asked, "Tim? How did you find this place?" Tim stiffened and looked away from the others, towards the sky, "Danny found it. When he was ten, he never could stay still." "Danny?" Tim heard Jon's voice say. "Didn't he die." Tim heard a smack and Jon saying ow, and he laughed. "No need for violence. Yeah, he- he did" Tim's composure was quickly wavering, but he felt Sasha's hand on his, so he squeezed it tight and continued. "He was big into urban exploration. One day he went into some tunnel place alone, and he never came out." Tim felt a head lean against his. Not Sasha's. She was on his other side, still holding his hand. Jon bumped his forehead against Tim's cheek and said quietly, "Sorry for asking." But it was fine. They both knew it was good to talk. They sat in silence for the rest of the night. It wasn't oppressive like they had all dealt with far too many times. It was quiet because there didn't have to be noise. They had tomorrow to be loud. Tomorrow was for Jon and Sasha debating the pronunciation of words. For Tim making the same joke until it wasn't funny anymore. For Martin to defend spiders like they were people. For the chaos, they would create to make their boring-ass office job bearable. They didn't Know what tomorrow would bring. Hell, they didn't even know it. But they knew that they could get through it. Like they'd gotten through shitty jobs, and missing brothers, and oppressive silence. The stars didn't know they weren't alone. There was too much space between them to see it. Sometimes people are like that, as well. Too caught up in their worries that they can't see just how loved they are. But you are not ever alone. And in that truck bed, in the dark, the four knew. And they knew what a gift that knowledge was.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 2

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 1149

Author’s Note: Mega thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67​, and @cracksinthewalls​ for editing, revision, flailing, and generally knocking sense into me when I’m being stubborn. You all made this story way better than it started it, and I love you. Thanks to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do. For @thoughtslikeaminefield​ ; apparently, you’re my muse. : )

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 2

Rather than walking, they ride to her house together in his sleek Impala, the same one that carried him out of her life all those years ago. She runs her fingers reverently over the smooth interior, glancing back at the full bench backseat. The seventeen-year-old deep inside begins to whisper ideas to her that bring a pink tinge to her cheeks, and she scrupulously avoids looking at Dean for the entire fifteen minute car ride.

“This the route you normally walk home?” Dean asks, eyes flicking up and down the streets they glide by. She’s grateful for the ride; much like the night he left, the autumn air has turned crisp, and thick rain clouds block the stars from view.

“Not exactly,” she says, glancing down an empty side street. “There’s a park we passed a couple of blocks back that I use the walking path to cut through, saves me a good fifteen, twenty minutes.

“And before you say anything,” she adds, feeling the weight of his side-eyed glance, “it’s a clear path, not a woodsy trail. I carry a pocket knife and pepper spray, and all my jewelry is silver. And I take a self-defense class every Thursday night. They don’t teach me anything you didn’t already show me, but it keeps me limber and vaguely social.”

He licks his lips reflexively, tucking his tongue behind his teeth before finally allowing himself to smile, just a little. The atmosphere in the car brightens perceptibly, and by the time they reach her house a few blocks over, she’s feeling a little lighter as she leads Dean up the steps, unlocks the front door, and invites him into her one-bedroom cottage.

That lightness lasts until the moment she opens the door to her bedroom, intending to change out of her office clothes, and sees the doll, crafted to look eerily like her, with a slit throat and something red splashed all around.

...

“What about Europe?” Kimber asked Dean, threading her fingers through his. “Come on, everybody wants to go to Europe.”

The afternoon sun filtered down through the branches of the trees, leaves of brilliant orange and red fluttering occasionally around them. They’d skipped seventh period physics to take a walk on one of the trails near the public park, and Kimberly couldn’t imagine a more perfect day. 

Dean had shrugged out of his jacket and offered it to her before she even realized she was cold, and they’d been strolling for nearly an hour now, feeling like they were the only two people in the world, even for just a little while.

“Nah,” he said, swinging their arms a little. He flashed her the grin he knew made her knees weak, and her heart fluttered. “Hate planes. More of a Mexico kind of guy, I think. Always wanted to go to a beach; never really had the time before. Wanna get away for spring break?”

But the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, even with his light-hearted offer hanging in the air between them. He’d be gone by then, he’d already explained. His dad’s work carried them all over the country, and they hadn’t stayed anywhere longer than two months, according to Dean. 

She considered not believing him, but something about the off-hand, flippant way he delivered the news made doubting him impossible. He avoided talking about his family most of time (except to complain-brag about his brother), and Kimber didn’t push. She invited him over for dinner at the end of the first week, and her parents liked his company so much they didn’t question when he began showing up every other night as an expected attendee.

“Told you I’d make a good impression,” he’d said later that night as they sat together on the floor of her old tree house. She snuck some soda and pie out after everyone in the house was supposed to be asleep, and they watched the stars make their way across the sky as they talked about everything and nothing.

He told her she tasted of cherry-cola every time they kissed after that night, and she couldn’t help blushing.

He’d been in town for three solid weeks when they stepped onto the trail on a singularly perfect autumn day, and Kimber had never been happier in her life. She refused to think of the future, wouldn’t even consider spring break, and she could see his good mood begin to fade with each moment she left the half-joking invitation hanging in the air between them.

“I can’t even think about spring yet,” she said finally, unable to meet his eyes. “I love fall so much, I just want to enjoy it...while I can.”

He slid a calloused finger under her chin, tilted her face to meet his, and offered her a small, sad smile that nearly split her heart.

“Plenty to enjoy about the fall. You look damned cute in my jacket, for one.” He brushed his lips across hers once, twice, before deepening the kiss for a long, perfect moment. Even the wind died down a little, the silence of the woods thick and heavy around them.

He pulled back, his eyes moving quickly over their surroundings. She had to take a longer pause to regain her bearings, even as Dean took her hand more firmly, turning on his heel to lead them back the way they came.

“Sun’s goin’ down, let’s get you home. What’s your mom making for dinner tonight? I’m starved.”

She shoved down the immediate urge to protest, wanting to stay out there with Dean for as long as they possibly could. She resigned herself to ask him later in the treehouse. When the wind picked up again, licking at her exposed ankles, she reconsidered, thinking she’d sneak him into her room instead. Much warmer.

“I dunno about dinner, but she said something about baking that Sara Lee pumpkin pie that’s in the freezer.”

He rounded on her suddenly, a delighted grin splashed across his face, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“You keep these things from me on purpose, I swear!” He kissed her quickly one last time, then tugged her hand until they were running down the path, sunlight flashing off the leaves kicked up into the air by their passing feet.

She never did ask him that night, nor any other, why they’d left the woods so quickly. Many years down the road, once she’d learned more about the invisible world everyone lived in unwittingly, and she’d figured out what Dean’s mysterious family business actually was, she’d actually lost some sleep wondering what his hunter instincts had picked up that afternoon.

But he’d acted on those instincts, gotten them safely to her house well before dinner, in plenty of time to charm her mother into baking the pie after all, and Kimber was glad to her soul she hadn’t argued.

…

Chapter 3

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 5 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things. 

Chapter warning: there be death and blood. Tread at your own risk

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 5

"Yo, Fenturd, funny seeing you here."

"Last time I checked, our entire class is supposed to be on this trail. I don't know why you're so surprised," Danny quipped before he could stop himself.

Dash grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "What was that?"

"Could you deal with your beef with this loser later? I'm all sweaty and getting covered in dirt. My designer clothes will get ruined at this point," the one girl, Paulina whined. The other girls in the group, her satellites, quickly tried to comfort her.

Danny caught sight of the scowl on Sam's face as she took a step forward. His friend held distain for the popular girls on the best of days, but it was situations like this which really upset her. They didn't care about anyone outside of their group, and often stood by and laughed as the jocks bullied others.

Paulina, who was the unspoken queen of their grade, was often outspoken about girls who she thought was beneath her, but she had also begun her own form of bullying in their sophomore year. She used her beauty to make guys fall for her and give her items. Once she was finished using them, she often publically embarrassed them or had Dash and his cronies throw a few punches. She had tried to go after Danny once, but after encountering his parents and their eccentricities once, she wanted nothing more to do with him.

"Can't I at least get one punch in?" Dash requested as he sized up Danny. "I mean, this is my last year to wail on him."

"You can't argue with that," Zack added as he crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby tree. "Why deny a man a simple pleasure?"

"Fine, but hurry it up," Paulina finally agreed as she and her friends moved to the side.

"You hear her. Grab him," Dash instructed has he pushed Danny backwards. He barely had time to catch himself before his arms were grabbed by two of the jocks.

Before he had a chance to throw his punch, Kwan grabbed his shoulder. "Hey, is this really the best place to do this? That one Ranger wasn't that far behind us."

"So?"

"Your buddy has a point," Sam spat as Tucker tried to hold her back. It was clear she was itching to hit someone in the shin with her combat boot. "If a Ranger catches you assaulting someone, not only could you lose your spot on the football team, you could get jail time."

Before Dash could make his decision, a scream rang out through the area. Everyone glanced around, but it didn't seem as if anyone found anything unusual. "Didn't that sound like Mikey?" Tucker asked after a moment.

"Drop him. That will definitely draw attention we don't want," Dash told his friends. "Mikey was up ahead of us, wasn't he?"

"I think so. Why?" Kwan questioned.

"We should go check on our other punching bag. Make sure he's not too hurt. Besides, maybe we'll learn something we can use to scare him with later. Come on." He beckoned them forward as he began following the trail again. The girls quickly followed him. The jocks holding Danny shared a look before letting him go.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Danny looked up to see Kwan watching him. "Yeah. I know you were trying to help out there. Thanks."

The football player nodded before he ran after his friends. Although Danny didn't exactly trust Kwan, he knew that he was a much kinder person than most of Dash's friends. Kwan really didn't want to be involved with the bullying, but was forced to go along with it for reasons Danny didn't quite understand.

"Do you think we should follow them?" Danny turned to see his friend's responses.

"Absolutely not!" Tucker shouted before Sam could respond. "Dude, didn't you notice that Dash is in one of his moods?"

"You're such a coward, Tucker." Sam grabbed his arm and began pulling him along the path. "He could need our help."

"Or we could get beaten to a pulp too."

"I'm with Sam on this one." When Tucker sent him a look a betrayal, Danny amended, "I mean, we don't have to get close if nothing is wrong, but if they need help, we can go get a Ranger. Didn't Kwan mention there should be one not too far away?"

"Fine, but don't expect me to get killed along with you."

…..

After a few minutes of walking, Danny and his friends first caught sight of Dash and his friends. They seemed to just be staring at something in the woods. The girls were nowhere nearby. Mikey was sitting on the ground at their feet and was crying inconsolably.

"What… what should we do?" Tucker whispered as they hid behind a nearby tree and monitored the situation.

The hair on the back of Danny's neck felt as if it was standing on end. As soon as they got to this area, something felt extremely wrong. "Although this goes against my desire for self-preservation, something's not right."

"You noticed it too?" Sam asked as she stepped out from around the tree and approached the group. "Hey! What's wrong?" Danny and Tucker shared a look before they followed her.

Mikey noticed them first. His glasses were somewhat foggy because of his tears. "Lester…" he choked out.

"What about Lester? Mikey, talk to us." Danny kneeled down so his distraught classmate wouldn't have to look up at him.

"He… he… we lost sight of him for just a moment," Mikey whispered as he grabbed Danny by the arms. His wide eyes almost made him look insane. "He didn't answer when we called him, and we didn't see any signs of him. After… after searching and not seeing him… Jimmy and Clark went off to tell Mr. Lancer. I stayed put just in case… Then… then something fell over there… and… and…" The sob that escaped the boy was somewhere in between a scream and absolute despair.

"What are you talking about? What happened?"

"Danny… I think you need to see something," Sam whispered as she shook his shoulder.

After gently prying Mikey's hands off of him, he stood up and looked at his friends. Both were incredibly pale, which was quite the feat for Tucker due to his naturally dark skin. Sam glanced at him before she pointed at something off the trail. At first, he had no idea what he was supposed to see, but after a moment, a soft dripping sound caught his attention. As he focused on that, he felt his blood run cold.

The dripping was coming from blood falling from a figure in a tree that was about thirty yards off. After a moment, he realized the figure was Lester. It almost looked as if someone had thrown him onto the branches, but with how limp his figure was and the strange pallor of his skin, Danny was convinced he was dead.

The sound of retching caught his attention. He turned to see Tucker wiping his mouth as he weakly straightened his posture. "That's… that's so messed up."

"We… we need to get help," Danny stammered as he glanced at the jocks. They all seemed to be in a trance. He snapped his fingers in front of Kwan's face. "Hey, hey! Come on! Snap out of it." The jock shook his head for a moment and glanced around before stumbling backwards into Dash. That seemed to break the rest of them out of their trance.

After a moment of confusion, Dash spotted Danny and once again grabbed him by the shirt. "Alright, Fenturd, you better have a good explanation of what happened!"

"Get off of me!" he snapped as he wrestled out of Dash's grip. "I don't know what happened either. You got here first, remember? I do know we need to alert the Rangers."

"Dash, what happened to the girls?" Lucas asked as he glanced around before he glared at Danny and his friends. "If you losers did anything to them…!"

"We haven't seen them since we got here," Sam replied as tried to help Mikey stand. He wasn't complying and had opted to stare at the ground. "Tucker, what are you doing? Don't tell me you're taking pictures."

"I am," he shakily told her as he tapped his phone. "I… I still can't get a signal. This way… we have a record of where we are… and, what the?!" As he spoke, another scream broke the silence of the forest.

"That sounded like Star!" Kwan yelled as he took off to investigate.

"Hey, wait up!" The rest of the football players quickly ran after him leaving Danny, Sam, and Tucker alone with Mikey, who still seemed dazed.

"I vote we try to get back to camp." Tucker had put his phone away and was glancing around nervously.

Danny nodded as he and Sam picked up Mikey. His frame was small and lanky, so he thankfully didn't weigh too much. Although he wasn't exactly responding to them, they were able to get him to walk by tugging on his wrist.

The group headed down the path as quickly as possible, but it wasn't fast enough for Danny's liking. The uneasy feeling he had when they first reached the area where they found Lester hadn't left. It felt like they were being watched and followed, and it made him want to run. As uncool as it was, he wanted to run away as fast as possible, but he couldn't leave his friends alone with whatever was lurking out there. He also couldn't just leave Mikey.

A glance at the shocked boy told Danny that he was having a hard time processing exactly what happened to his friend. Although Danny really couldn't say that he and Mikey were friends, he knew the boy enough to know that he and Lester were almost like brothers. It was understandable he couldn't function after witnessing that, but he really did wish the boy would move faster. They needed to get to a safer location, preferably sooner than later.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Sam hesitantly asked as they moved.

"Nah uh. No way. We're still out in the woods with something without any adults around. You saw what happened!" Tucker sounded frantic as he looked around the area.

"It can wait until we get back to camp," Danny agreed as he kept his eyes on the trail. A strange noise caught his attention, and after a moment, he stopped to listen.

"Dude, what are you doing? You can't stop now."

Danny shushed him as he listened. A strange sound, almost like a bird call but almost metallic, was coming from somewhere behind them. He turned to see if he could catch sight of whatever the source was, but he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. After a few moments, the bird call was joined by the sound of rustling wings, but that also sounded almost metallic as there was a strange buzz to it.

"It's back!" Mikey suddenly shouted, causing the rest of them to jump. He then wrestled out of Sam and Danny's grips before he took off down the trail.

"Mikey! Come back! What's back?" Before Danny had a chance to go after him, Sam grabbed his arm and pointed to something in the trees.

A silvery flash caught his attention. As he watched it, he realized it looked like a skeletal bird made from some sort of metal. It finally came to a stop on a tree branch a few yards down the trail from them. Its eyes were an eerie red. After it appraised them, it let out a horrifying screech.

"I see you found the target!" an excited voice rang out from the woods.

Danny and his friends formed a tight circle with their backs on the inside as they scanned the area. No one seemed to be nearby. Other than the sound of the strange bird and their breathing, there were no other sounds. After a moment, a figure emerged from shadows of the forest.

The figure was the size of a young child and was carrying something over its shoulders. As it came closer, they could tell that it looked like a young boy, expect his skin was abnormally white, seemed to have green hair, and it almost seemed like he was glowing.

"Is that Mikey?" Tucker whispered as he pointed to what the strange glowing figure had over its shoulder.

"Get away from him!" Danny shouted, uncertain if it was even able to understand him.

"And what are you going to do about it?" The boy laughed as he watched them. "I was told I could take a playmate if I helped Plasmius get his target, so I'm not giving him back!"

"What should we do?" Tucker whispered as he took a few steps backwards. "I don't know what that thing is, but I don't think that's a person."

"I think you're right, but we need to help Mikey," Danny told him. "But I have no idea how to safely do that." Before he had a chance to make a decision, Sam threw a few rocks at the strange boy. However, they passed through him without any damage.

He stuck his tongue out at the group. "That was mean, but luckily for me, stuff like that can't do any damage." A devilish grin crossed his face as his hand began to glow a sickly green. "Although I'm not allowed to touch Plasmius' target, I'm allowed to have some fun with anyone else who gets trapped."

"Run?"

"Run!" Danny and Sam yelled in response to Tucker's question. The three of them quickly ran off down the trail.

As they moved, the forest around them seemed to grow darker and more menacing as the trail became harder to follow. After what felt like hours, the three of them finally came to a stop in a decently sized clearing as Tucker and Danny had reached their limit.

"Guys, I don't think this is normal." At Sam's strange statement, the boys looked at their surroundings. The trees appeared dead and were a strange and unnatural gray color. The sky above them was a radioactive green mixed in with swirls of a neon purple.

Someone behind them began clapping. They turned to see a figure wearing white approach them from the trees. Instead of being a child like the previous one, this one was clearly an adult male. Its skin was a sickly blue, and its dark hair almost looked like horns.

"You've led me on a merry chase," it told them. Its voice was cultured and confident. Danny caught a glimpse of fangs as it spoke "However, I was only supposed to take one of you. What exactly should I do with the extras?"

"You could let us go. Pretty please?" When Danny and Sam shot Tucker an incredulous look, he quickly defended himself. "What? It doesn't hurt to ask."

"I appreciate your attempt at civility," the creature told him. "However, it that is not something I can easily do. You see, it's fairly difficult to bring over more than one human at once with normal techniques. That bird of Youngblood's is something to behold. Its magic is just subtle enough to distract someone just long enough for one of us to take him or her. I must find out if I can get one of my own."

"Where are we? What are you?" Danny demanded, sounding a lot braver than he felt. This things was terrifying.

"It's rather rude to ask that, but you're clearly frightened, so allow me to explain. "I am called Plasmius, and this is the realm of the dead."

===========================

Note: shout out to anyone who caught my unintentional Superman reference.

For the international readers, 1 yard is about 91 centimeters, and 1 foot is approximately 30.5 centimeters. 

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

A Not So Beautiful Fairytale

Pairing:  BTS x Reader, Yes all of them.

Genre: Fantasy/Angst/Smut/ Some humor

Summary: You find yourself slave to seven very handsome supernatural beings. They claim they want nothing more than companionship, but years of servitude taught you not to trust their kind. Either way you just need to hang on until you can find your little sister who was separated from you years ago. 

Word Count: 2874

Warnings: Violence, slavery, implied rape, future smut (involving who knows yet, but will update when I do.)

 Human auctions are not uncommon in the supernatural world. As much as they (being the supernatural) feared the knowledge of their existence getting exposed to humans, they couldn’t seem to help themselves from playing with the same creatures they fear so much. Perhaps it is just in their nature to want to maintain dominance over such inferior beings? Whatever the reason is, Namjoon hates slave auctions. He felt no thrill in using a human as servant or some sort of pet to humiliate. Nor did he enjoy in the more carnal pleasure some of his kind took with their human slaves.

   Besides Namjoon couldn’t stand the wailing noise of terror or the sharp scent of piss which accompanied the slave blocks. They were too much for his delicate senses; another reason he chose to avoid the black market as much as possible. Despite being the main source for supernatural to obtain their most basic non-human goods, the market tends to be littered with slave blocks everywhere. The things are practically shoved into every sharp corner or center stage possible in the small square making it virtually impossible to avoid.

    Hence why Seokjin normally did all the shopping for the household. As a siren, he lacked the capability to experience sensations beyond the level of a human. So his tolerance level for such sights is much higher than Namjoon’s. Moreover Jin is pretty much the mother figure of their strange little family of seven and knows better than anyone the things needed in their household. Whereas Namjoon normally buys more than necessary only to destroy half of it on accident due to his clumsiness. So it is only on the rarest occasions such as today when no one else can go that Namjoon is forced to make the trip to the black market.

     He only thanks the heavens that Seokjin didn’t send him alone instead forcing the youngest/newest of their family Jungkook to join him. The dark haired, wide eyed phoenix is still very much a hatchling in spite of being over a hundred years old. Something evident by how he looks around the market mouth hung open.

 “Hyung! This place is amazing!” he exclaims.

   Namjoon smiles shaking his head. He supposes Jungkook is right. The market is a sight to see, especially when compared to those in the human community. Unlike in the human world where everything is modernized, the supernatural community tends to keep their markets and cities no older than the Victorian period. And this particular market hasn’t updated since the renaissance period leaving in its old cobble roads, brick buildings, geometrical favoring and other old fashioned styling. Furthermore its riddled with creatures of all sorts ranging from pale winged faeries to glistening scaled nagas slinking around in their natural forms. A rare sight to see outside such venues. 

    “You’re gonna catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that.” Namjoon teases ruffling Jungkook’s already messy hair.

   The younger boy immediately shuts his mouth. A light blush forms on his cheeks causing Namjoon to smile wider. ‘To be young and unknowing again,’ Namjoon wistfully thinks to himself. He’s not by far the youngest of the group, but he is more knowledgeable of the world than even his elder brothers Jin and Hoseok. His second elder brother Yoongi is the only one more experienced and disillusioned than he is. 

   “Look Namjoon, honey cake!” Jungkook cries, pointing at a wooden stand with a royal blue awning. Under it a sun kissed skinned faerie baters with a red eyed fury over the fluffy golden cakes dripping with honey. Jungkook runs to the stand not even waiting for Namjoon’s response. His body literally glow red at excite over the cakes. Suddenly Namjoon wishes he had gone alone, because something tells him, he’ll be spending way above the budget Jin set for them. Especially since he can never deny getting his brothers anything they wanted.

    "We’ll take four. “ Namjoon orders.

Jungkook frowns.. "Only four? Hyung, I can eat eight and still have room for more. ”

    "We’re here to buy supplies, remember? Jin will kill us if we don’t come home with what was on the list.“ 

   An annoyed huff escapes the phoenix but he says no more deciding it best not to argue. Namjoon is right. Jin would murder them if they returned empty-handed or at least scold them into the next decade. "Fine, but I’m eating one right now. ”

   "Aish, such a kid.“ 

"Exactly. So you should feed me more. I need it to grow.” Jungkook replied, mouth full of cake. 

     Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You’ve been hanging Hoseok too much. He’s starting to rub off on you.”

        “Nothing wrong with that.”  Jungkook says stuffing the last of his treat into his mouth. “So where to next, hyung?”

     Glad for the reprieve Namjoon glances at the list Jin gave him. It’s short compared to what Jin normally wrote when he went shopping. No doubt an act of mercy for Namjoon to which he’s internally grateful for. “Red root and dried dove’s blood, Jin says the best place for it is a druid shop not too far from the market.”

    “Woah! I’ve never seen a druid before-let’s go.” 

Yup…Jungkook has a lot to learn still.

//

   Shopping goes along surprisingly well thanks to Jin’s thorough instructions. They even manage somehow not to blow their budget on silly knick knacks and treats; though Namjoon has his suspicions about just how much money Jin gave them. Either way Namjoon owes Jin the world’s biggest ‘thank you’ for not only were his instructions thorough, but they somehow directed him away from every slave in the vicinity. 

   "Aaahh, we’re all done. Let’s go home, huh Mr. JK?“ Namjoon smiles.

 Silence.

  "Jungkook?” Namjoon turns only to find the phoenix gone. Panic arises in him knowing how naive the boy still is and how tricky the market can be. For all Namjoon knows Jungkook already traded away his first born or something worse to a shady vendor. The thought hits Namjoon like a freight train. “Jungkook!?”

   Closing his eyes, Namjoon blocks every sense of his but smell. Thankfully phoenixes have a rather distinct scent of smoke, ashes and cinnamon making it easy to point Jungkook out of the maze of creatures. Even more thankfully Namjoon doesn’t smell any of the usual worrisome vendors around the boy. What he does smell though are the sour vinegar scent of piss, salt water, copper and humans…Jungkook found his way to a slave block. 

   Briefly Namjoon debates on letting the phoenix find his own way back. After all, Jungkook isn’t that young he can’t figure out how to find Namjoon. Plus as a phoenix, Jungkook technically is the strongest of creatures in their family-so it’s not like Namjoon needs protect him all the time… 

      It takes Namjoon less than a second to find him. The younger boy unsurprisingly stands at the very front of the block. His eyes wide open as he stares at the three humans on stage. Undoubtedly this is Jungkook’s first auction, and like most of their kind, he’s enthralled by it. 

  "Come on, Jungkook. Let’s go.“ Namjoon says, grabbing him by the shoulder. He purposefully turns to miss the frightened faces of the humans. As much as he hates glamour, it seems kinder to deceive humans of their horrible fate. 

    "Hyung, look.” Jungkook urges, eyes unwavering from their original spot.

   Namjoon shakes his head. “A slave auction I know. I’ve seen them before Kookie.”

 “And how much are you willing to pay for this male human? He has plenty of fat on him, making him the perfect entree dish for your next dinner party!” The auctioneer cheers. 

 A violent sob escapes the human followed by loud offers from the crowd. Namjoon can’t help but sneer at them. For a race that thought themselves superior than humans, they are truly awful creatures. 

  The gavel slams. “Sold to the pixies. Enjoy ladies and fella. Next of human 427, a little on the old side but still good for things like embroidery, cleaning or aged bone soup.”

    "Jungkook now.“ Namjoon orders. He puts a bit of his strength into it but the phoenix barely budges.

       "Joonie, you don’t understand. Look.” Jungkook pleads, pointing. Reluctantly Namjoon does as asked his eyes landing on the third human. He supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised to find that the human who ‘enchanted’ Jungkook is a young woman, the phoenix is young after all. “She’s beautiful…”

  The longing in Jungkook’s voice nearly strikes a chord within his own heart. From where he stands you don’t appear beautiful, your (h/c) hair is long and unruly from lack of care, skin a shade paler than it should be from lack of sunlight, dirt splotches decorate your naked body along with bruises and scars most likely given by your 'caretakers ’. No you are far from beautiful. However for some reason Namjoon can’t pull his eyes away. 

   "I want her, Namjoon-hyung.“ Jungkook states, his voice leaving no room for argument. 

   "Jungkook, we can’t buy her-”

     "Why not? I have more than enough money to. I’d take care of her like how my parents care for their humans. “

    "She’s not a pet, Kookie. She’s a living creature with feelings and emotions.” Namjoon swallows, trying to remember why buying humans is bad.

     "She won’t be my pet. I’ll let her do whatever she wants no questions asked. I just need her to be mine, hyung.“ The determination in Jungkook’s voice shakes Namjoon to his core. He’s only heard Jungkook that determined once in his life, and that was to join their family. 

    "Next up we got this foxy little minx here. ” the auctioneer says. 

     The guards push you further on stage, almost causing you to stumble due to your unwillingness to move. You shoot them a hateful look. Suddenly Namjoon realizes why he finds you so interesting, you have no fear or sorrow in your eyes. Everything about you screams fighter not victim. 

  “As you can see folks, she’s not the most pliant of our lot, but that’s nothing a little glamour won’t fix. Am I right?”  The auctioneer grins. As if to prove a point he walks over to you hand out glimmering with magic. He’s undoubtedly going to put you under, something which Namjoon is surprisingly grateful for. Perhaps if you have the druggy blank stare and dreamy smile all glamoured humans do, he’ll be able to turn and leave.

    The auctioneer reaches out to caress you. However instead of meeting your soft skin, his hand tastes the sharpness of your teeth. A scream erupts him as the guards rush to pull you off. All the while the crowd watches first in silent contemplation of these chain of events then in laugher and finally whispered caution of you. 

   "Evil thing. You’ve just lost any chance you had at escaping here alive.“ the auctioneer growled, slapping you hard. "I told you to behave, and you didn’t listen. Now you’ll pay. ”

  Horror invades Namjoon as the auctioneer raises the gavel above your head. “FORTY THOUSAND!" 

    The words escape Namjoon before he knows it. All eyes turn to him in disbelief. With a deep swallow Namjoon makes his resolve. "I’ll pay forty thousand for her.”

   The auctioneer cocks an eyebrow. “You’d pay for this insolent brat?”

    "I said forty thousand didn’t I?“ Namjoon retorts.

 The auctioneer eyes him for a second. A greedy smile spreads across his face. Immediately Namjoon knows this is going to take a turn for the worse. "This brat has caused me a lot of strife these last few months. So much so revenge is sounding rather nice compared to whatever price you’re low balling me.”

    Namjoon scoffs. Forty thousand is far from low balling if anything it is a hundred times more than you are worth. Moreover Namjoon knows what the auctioneer wants in exchange and no human is worth that price. Yet he can’t find it in himself to leave. “Forty thousand and two years worth of cultivation.”

   "Namjoon-hyung! That’s your life energy you’re exchanging. “ Jungkook hisses.

    Namjoon doesn’t waver. "Well?”

 "Like I said I don’t appreciate lowballers.“ The auctioneer frown, swinging the gavel downwards.

    "NO!" 

   "I’ll add a phoenix tear!” Jungkook’s voice rings out. 

   The gavel stops mid-air. Interest returns to the auctioneer in the form of a grin. “Really a phoenix tear? Forty thousand, two years of life force, and a phoenix tear?”

  Now it is Namjoon’s turn to protest. “No. Jungkook, nothing is worth that price.”

    Phoenixes tears valued more than anything any supernatural could give, and the method of extracting them…Namjoon doesn’t even want to picture it. “He’s already asking for too much. We should just leave -”

    "Stop hyung. I’ve already made my decision. “ Jungkook states firmly. "So auctioneer do we have a deal or are you just a greedy bastard?”

   The auctioneer hums stroking his chin, “Fine. Take her. She’s too much trouble for me. Good luck training her. ”

    Yanking the twine rope around your neck, the auctioneer throws you off the stage. Namjoon moves to catch you, but Jungkook is quicker grabbing you virtually in midair. He looks down at you with an expression, Namjoon has never seen on the phoenix before. “You are alright. You’re safe now. ” Jungkook promises.

   Words fail to express anything Namjoon is thinking, but he gets the feeling something has changed drastically. 

//

Tiny painful gasps escape you as the rope around your neck constricts. Even without the slaver or guards there to pull at it, you can feel its every tightening presence. Especially now that someone - something has bought you. “Hey, what’s wrong? Hyung, I think something is wrong with her!” The dark haired boy cried.

   He stares down at you eyes full of panic. It is odd to see a creature worried about someone outside of their race. In the two years of your captivity, you learned quickly just how little these things cared for humans. “She got yanked by the rope, Kookie. It probably bruised her throat if not knock the wind out of her at the very least. ” his blonde haired companion informs. 

  You eye him cautiously, unsure what to make of him or the boy. Overall he’s lankier with a skinnier but taller figure. Even his face is more defined with sharper angles in the nose and cheek area; which is funny because despite the baby fat still clinging to the brunette, you can tell he’s the more muscular of the two. “Asshole.” The brunette hisses, grabbing the rope.

    You flinch readying yourself for the pull only to feel a soft heat against your neck. The sense of something burning kisses your nose and a soft 'crackle’ chimes as the weight of the rope disappears. Slowly you open your eyes to find the rope in ashes. Brunette or Kookie as Blondie called him, smiles at you. “There. All better now. ”

   In disbelief, your hands search your neck only to find nothing. “W-why?”

 The question slips from you. This is definitely not normal slave owner behavior. Were they trying to lure you by feigning kindness? Or did they truly mean it? Maybe they were abolitionists who hated slavery-if such people existed in the supernatural community. 

     Kookie’s smile widens. “It was hurting you, right? So I took care of it like any good owner would.”

   Owner? Whatever hopes you may have are destroyed by that single utterance. Nothing changed, you are still trapped. “Aish, what did I say about her not being a pet, Jungkook?” The blonde chastises. 

  Kookie, Jungkook or whatever his name is, shoots him a sheepish look. His doughy cheeks redden with embarrassment. He looks genuinely ashamed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean you were a pet. I meant a-”

       "A slave?“ You finish for him. "Or am I to be food for you at some point?”

   Horror washes across Jungkook’s face. To his credit, he even turn a little pale at the question. “What? No! I would never eat you -or any humans. I love humans. It’s just…you’re just-”

     The blonde lays a comforting hand on Jungkook’s head silencing him. “Jungkook’s too pure hearted to cause anyone harm without reason.”

     "I’m human what more reason do you need?“ You reply unwavering. Scars and bruises litter your body from these 'pure hearted ’ creatures. Nothing, no promise or assurance can ever make you trust them. 

       Light brown eyes scan you as if searching for something you can’t see. Subconsciously you push yourself further into Jungkook’s body as if to hide your vulnerability. Blondie smiles at you. It is a soft yet sorrowful smile as he knows exactly what you’ve gone through. He reaches out, his large hand cradling your chin. "You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? I know my promise probably means nothing given my kind put you through this,  but you’ll be safe with us. I promise.”

   You open your mouth you protest, but no sound comes out. Prior experience warns against trusting these two, however something within silences it. Perhaps it is a fool’s wish, but you want to believe him… want to believe both of them.

    "Well if this isn’t a lovely sight?“ An all too familiar voice interrupts. The three of you look to see the auctioneer grinning down at you. "Now if you two are done playing with the merchandise, a deal is a deal.”

//

[mvtteo]

YES, i know i’m so late to the game - pls fight me :/ - but i’m here now & i cannot wait to write w/ all of u & love on all of u, etc !! i’m stef btw !! ok now on to the stuff yall came here for.

☆★ [ tommy martinez + he/him + cismale ] ☆★ did you know that [ matteo de la cruz ] has lived in erie for [ two months ] now? the [ 26 ] year old [ dealer / uber driver ] is known to be [ loyal ], yet [ calamitous ]. which is fitting considering they are a/an [ scorpio ]. whenever they pass by on the street, i can hear [ save me from myself by louis the child ] blasting through their headphones. they remind me of [ a flickering street light in an alley, dirt stuck under your fingernails & a meme that isn’t funny anymore ], and it really wouldn’t be erie without them! [ stef, 21, est, she / her ].

( TW : drug use, abuse, violence )

FORMING

from toronto originally ! he’s only been in erie for about two months ( and who KNOWS how long that’ll last ... more info on that below )

he grew up in a single parent home ( his biological father SLAMMED the door in his face at 4 years old & never returned ), of course a part from the revolving door of ‘ new daddy’s ’ his mother would introduce to him as he grew. money was tight but they made due, a working/lower class family living in an area of the city that was known as a spot tourists shouldn’t visit. 

a lil bit about his mother : emillia vargas ! she took odd jobs when she could & that’s how she put food on the table. that, or her boyfriend of the month dishing out from his wallet. sometimes it was shocking - to have food in the fridge - when at least half of her paycheck was sent to a dealer on the corner. she was from a long line of addicts & didn’t make it to the other side. matteo’s earliest memories are of needles — and the worst was the silence afterwards. their relationship is COMPLICATED to say the least. for some reason, despite everything, he still cares & checks up on her. probably because she’s the only family he knows. or the guilt trip & manipulation she’s thrown his way — that, too! anyway. they don’t talk often & she’s still at the same house up in toronto.

father : the man left when matteo was just four. fighting was constant ( so perhaps it was due to trouble in paradise ), but matteo was too young to really comprehend why he left & he hates pondering on it - even though the lasting effects are REAL. 

anyway. his mother did have her fair share of boyfriends, trying to fill in that void - but to no avail. some of these men were dangerous, some using emilia, some married already, others abusive & controlling, addicts themselves ... needless to say, no one really stuck. and matteo definitely had a part in that too, being spiteful, causing fights or fighting back. things got pretty bad @ his place & the neighborhood knew whose house those red & blue lights always visited.

SPEAKING of his neighborhood, one great thing did come out of it & that was not too far around the corner lived @luzzamaya​ , matteo’s BEST FRIEND / ride or die / partner in crime. he practically lived @ her house, looked up to her father as the male figure in his life & they’re still two peas in a pod today :~)) ... but more on that later too ...

matteo grew up QUICKLY - not really in the way of caring for himself ( bc his actions would in fact prove the opposite ) but he often hung out with people way older than him ( not really wanting to be home after school, etc ) & he began diving into the world of drugs early on. def the kid your parents would’ve been 👀👀 about. YALL CATCH THE DRIFT OK ... moving on.

IMPORTANT BLURB TO HIS STORY (TW : mention of gang violence )

so he was always in the wrong crowd / hanging with kids older than him / he got involved with drugs etc really young. he started selling drugs lowkey around high school + the town and was a lowball dealer until he continuously proved himself + being more closely tied to this GANG ( the suppliers ), we can call it La Línea bc i looked up active gangs and this one was made from corrupt / retired police officers so i was like .. YUP ! so he’s currently affiliated, not initiated bc that prob means killing someone nd he’s like miss me w that, fool. but as he’s grown his relationship with them + has continued selling (drugs, weapons .. contraband etc), they want him in bc they trust him. giving him more & more duties. and it’s not like he can say NO bc they’re all strapped + can literally ruin/end his life ?? or ruin/end the lives of the ppl around him? SO as another gang (aka a MAFIA) that is trying to step on la linea’s territory … ( maybe it had bad consequences, someone from la linea being thrown in prison or dead ). SO they trust their outside dude matteo (since he’s not super recognizable to the mafia since he’s not u know . FULLY in la linea) to work a plan to take DOWN this mafia. how ? buy ratting them out to the police. a literal snitch smh. the only bad thing is now … someone from the mafia traced the words back to him. their leader is now in prison & has sent “”soliders”” to come after matteo nO MATTER WHAT. he’s gotten threatening calls // he’s been forced into fights // held at gunpoint which was his FINAL straw of being like ..  I GOTTTA GO

soooooo now they’re ( him & luz ) are in erie :~). 

also i’m thinking he got involved w the gang bc originally he owed other low-level dealers money + was like trust me on this. i’ll do whatever u ask. nd is a loyal ass hoe. plus all of a sudden he was making DOUGH selling product + had a following / a lil bit of a “”community”” that he’d never rly had before

PERSONALITY / HEADCANONS ( idk how to label - just some more info )

he’s not a horrible dude but a LOT of people would argue that he is. and his actions might seem like he is. but ... he’s learning :,)

sarcastic as hell

has an infamous smirk ok ... super careless so yall are gonna see that a lot

has a rooted issue with authority figures & hates when anyone tells him / offers him / suggests to him what to do

despite seemingly coming across as a meanie, he could also be considered the life of the party. not in the sense of being gregarious, but more so having FUN. drowning out 

immature as hell 

has definitely dealt to his mother before :/. a low, even for him, but. that’s a complicated relationship

his hair is constantly a mess

STREET FIGHTS FOR MONEY $$$ or when la linea previously made him. he tries not to do it TOO often but sometimes he’s just gotta ya know ?

has some shitty tattoos - minus the ones done beautifully by luz of course !! a few to cover some scars :|

assume scruff on his face at all times

has been struggling with sleeping through the night, nervous abt getting caught & will often just walk around @ 3pm for a smoke

loves reggaeton 

bilingual but hardly speaks spanish :/

WANTED CONNECTIONS 

a SPONSOR from AA/NA

a COP / law enforcement that takes him in for dealing

or even a bystander that calls in authorities for him dealing / stealing / anything illegal ...

someone he DEALS to

someone who OWES him money

a FLIRTATIONSHIP 

a ROOMMATE

a BARTENDER/CONFIDANT @ his go-to watering hole

a GOOD INFLUENCE who is aware of his addiction 

a PASSENGER in one of his uber rides

someone he got into a CAR ACCIDENT with

they hit him in the middle of the night // or hit his car ? or vice versa ?

someone he had a BAR FIGHT with

next door NEIGHBOR

ENEMIES

always wanted to do a homewrecker plot tbh

a revenge plot ?

someone he’s met from a DATING APP

a COUSIN

another CLUB RAT

ok i’m literally open to ANY connection u think of. it might be easy to come up w/ those in-depth ones while brainstorming tg but above are just a few ideas :,)))

[boyyyhowdy-blog]

It’s All Pretty Hopeless but We Keep on Trying

pairing: javier escuella x female!reader

summary: Plagued by nightmares, you find yourself alone on the docks at Clemens Point until Javier joins you. While sharing your troubled thoughts, Javier feels something he never thought he’d experience again.

warnings: mega sad reader, angst, mentions of violence, emotional distress, one (1) sweet cowboy in a poncho

word count: 1,724

=-=-=

You were sitting on the dock again, feet in the water, neck craned to watch the summer night sky speckled with stars. Your loose hair swayed gently as a breeze swept over the lake, surprisingly cold considering the absolutely horrid heat in the day, yet you were unmoved. Not even a shiver.

Javier felt a rush of pity as your hand swiped under your eye, no doubt wiping away a tear or two. Out of decency and sympathy, no one ever asked what happened before Dutch agreed to let you stay, yet everyone knew anyway. Living in a camp full of eavesdroppers did not grant much privacy.

It was a marvel, really, how well you kept your pain under wraps— a pretty façade of smiles and silly jokes throughout the day to keep everyone fooled. It worked for the most part. Javier had to admit, if he didn't know mental exhaustion like the back of his hand, you would've had him fooled too.

For a moment his thinks he should turn around, go back to bed and leave you to figure out your own demons. Yet something in the way you draw in a shaky breath has his heart aching.

With a sigh, he stepped onto the dock, the wood creaking under his weight. You turned at the sound, your lips curling into a fragile smile. He didn't like the way his heart jumped against his ribcage.

"Hello, Javier."

"Hey," he responded, taking a seat beside you. "It's late, aren't you tired?"

You shrugged and pulled up the collar of your shirt that slipped over your shoulder. "I just needed to clear my head for a bit."

"I can get my guitar if you want," Javier offered up. He still stood by the theory that a good song could cure any broken heart. "Could sing you somethin'."

To his disappointment you turned down his offer with a shy smile. "It ain't worth wastin' your talents on me tonight. 'Sides, it's nice to listen to the crickets and the wind blowin' through the trees."

Pulling your feet out of the lake, you rested your chin on your knee, your eyes sliding shut. He took the moment to study your face, the freckles, the smile lines, and even the shadowed patches underneath your eyes. Familiar yet so much more unique than he once thought. Sure, he'd had plenty of conversations with you before tonight, but he never took the time to truly appreciate how beautiful you were.

As if in a trance, he reached out and trailed a finger along your cheek. Startled, your eyes flicked open, your skin heating with a flush as he dared to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Your lopsided grin grew to match his.

"You should get some rest, hermosa," Javier murmured, forcing his hand back to his lap instead of tracing your soft skin even if they itched to return.

That lovely little smile, like his own personal ray of sunshine, faltered and melted away. With a sigh, your eyes trailed out back to the water. "I—I can't."

Javier bit the inside of his cheek. "Do you...want to talk?"

You shrugged and rubbed at your arm. "It's silly. Just some bad dreams, y'know?"

"Querida, nightmares aren't silly," Javier said, brows furrowing. "Especially if they keep you up all night."

Chewing your lip, you shrugged again, refusing to look at him.

Javier said your name, enjoying the way the syllables rolled off his tongue like a prayer. You spared him a glance. "Keepin' that pain bottled up isn't doing you any favors. You can tell me, if you want."

"Do you have a family, Mr. Escuella?" You asked with a gentle sigh.

Surprised by the sudden question, he shook his head. "Er, no. I mean, yes, but not anymore."

"Oh," you said. With that you swallowed and sucked in a shaky breath, your hand delving into your pocket to fish out a lovely golden locket. Flicking it open, your eyes traced over your family's faces before handing it to Javier who promptly studied your family of six standing in front of a farmhouse.

"I was seventeen when we got that picture taken," you smiled. "I remember 'cause my older sister, Harriet, was allowed to leave her room for the afternoon. I was so happy."

You pointed out the tall girl beside your younger self, her features similar but with higher cheekbones and thinner visage. Her expression reminded Javier of those fancy monarchy paintings he saw in a museum once. "Wait. What do you mean she was allowed to leave her room? Was she, like, a vampire or something?"

"No," you snorted. "She had Tuberculosis. It was partially why we bought the farm. She, uh, died a year later."

"I'm sorry," he said, wishing he could offer more.

"S'alright," you shrugged, masking the old wound with another smile. "Y'know, she used to play the piano and I'd sit an' listen outside her door—sometimes sing along. When she...when she couldn't play no more I realized she were better off dyin' than bein' in pain. Listenin' to that cough was pure torture."

You paused for a moment then pointed at the young man on your right. He wore a stern expression, out of place on his youthful face. "My brother Warren. He and the ranch hand, Collin Cassidy, would get into all sorts of trouble and somehow I'd always get roped in. Warren ended up workin' for a railroad company after Harriet died. Got in a real big fight with my Momma and Pa and I haven't seen him since."

This time, you frowned, brief anger flickering in your eyes before tracing over the little girl in the front, your arms slung over her shoulders. She looked sweet if not a bit impish. Your gaze softened. "That's Adelia, she was such a pain. I nearly strangled her every other day."

Javier chuckled, reminded of his own little sister. "Was she anything like you?"

"God no," you laughed, shaking your head. "She wouldn't so much as glance at a pile of mud while I'd come home covered from head to toe in it. Adelia much more liked braidin' the horses' hair and makin' flower crowns near the creek."

You finally moved up to your parents. "Momma and Pa. They loved us even if we were worse than Hell itself."

"You look like your mother," Javier commented, bringing the photo closer to his face. "And, you've got your father's eyes."

"Yeah," you murmured. "People always said that."

A comfortable silence filled the space, Javier content with whatever you wanted to tell him. He decided he liked the way you spoke, enjoyed the sound and cadence of your voice. Something he now looked forward to hearing.

"I—" You started, voice wavering suddenly. "I should have been there."

"How do you mean?" Javier asked, tentative despite the curiosity.

"I should have been there when those brutes burned down our farm," you spat, a sudden rush of angry tears spilling down your cheeks. "If I weren't so angry at my momma, then I would have been there. I could've helped."

He stayed silent, unfazed by your sudden fury.

Your jaw clenched as your nails tug into your arm so hard that the skin broke, your face drawn into a deep frown. "Did you know that, before they set the house on fire, they took my family out back near the pigpens and shot them from behind? I got there just as they pulled the trigger and killed my little sister."

More tears sprung from your eyes, your bottom lip quivering. "I'm afraid to close my eyes because I know that all I'll see are their face's, their last moments stuck on wonderin' why I never showed up to save them."

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder. The least he could do really. "It's not your fault."

"It isn't?" You snarled, venom lacing your words. "If it isn't then-then why do I feel this way? Why do I feel so guilty about being alive?"

You looked up at him, eyes wet with tears, your face a cocktail of grief. Guilt, pain, fury, all the familiar emotions Javier felt in a previous life, yet he had no answer for you. He didn't have to say anything as you searched his face for a solution, lips pinching in realization.

"It doesn't end, does it?" You whispered, shoulders visibly slumping. "The pain, the guilt, the weight of it all."

Javier chewed his bottom lip and sighed. "No. But it gets easier over time. You learn how to deal with it, you know?"

He glanced down at your locket, thumbed the delicate metalwork and offered it back. "I've found that it's better to think about the good memories rather than the bad ones."

You swallowed and glanced at the locket in his palm. Instead of taking it, your hand enclosed around his hand, forcing his fingers around the trinket. "Do me a favor and hold on to it for me, would you?"

Before Javier could sputter out a protest, you flashed him a sad smile, keeping your warm hand on his own clammy one. "Please. Keep it. Seein' their faces makes my heart ache worse than a pulled tooth. And..."

"And what?" He urged, enjoying the way your fingers felt over his.

"And you said you didn't have family, so you can borrow mine."

"Querida," he scoffed, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. "I can't take this. It's all you have left of them."

"Please," you all but begged, a stray tear rolling down your cheek. It trailed to your chin where it hung for a moment then dripped onto your lap. "I want you to have it."

"But—"

With a dry laugh you cut him off once more. "In twenty years, when we're old and you've got your own family with your own pictures, come find me. When you do, you can give it back. Okay?"

He hadn't the heart to argue. "Okay."

"Thank you."

Suddenly, your soft lips brushed against his cheek, planting a gentle kiss over his scar. Before he could process, let alone tug you back to give you a proper kiss, you were already halfway down the dock.

Javier pressed his fingers to his cheek, a giddy smile tugging at his lips. He’d be talking to you a lot more from now on.

=-=-=

an: yeehaw hope y'all enjoy 

[13-reasons-ideas]

The Difference of Influence

A/N: Please see my previous post for an explanation. This may become a multi-part idea if I get enough good feedback. 

Ugh, I hate rich kid parties. I hate the people and the way everyone shows off what cool shit they bought just because. And the gossip. I hate how everyone tries to one up each other in regards to whose parents have more money or prestige. So far tonight my “friends” have come to the conclusion that my parents are basically royalty-today anyway.

 Just because my dad is a lawyer who went to Dartmouth for his undergrad and Yale for law school, and my mom went to Harvard for both her undergraduate degree and medical school, doesn’t mean I’m spoiled or destined for the US Presidency or whatever people think this week. The fact that they both graduated top of their classes doesn’t mean shit either. My parents taught me how to work hard. My mom went to Harvard on a full-ride scholarship and paid her way through medical school. My dad started working 30 hours a week and balancing work with school when he was 16 so he could afford to go to an ivy league school. Unlike some people here, they didn’t have things handed to them. So as a result, neither do I. Do I have more opportunities because of their income? Yes. Do I work my ass off for what I have? Yes, absolutely.

I was beginning to grow tired of the drunken shenanigans of my so-called friends so I picked up my cup of cranberry juice and decided to see if I could track someone more interesting down. Or find Winston, since he was the one who made me come to this stupid party. I had seen Bryce Walker dragging a very unhappy looking Montgomery de la Cruz along with him earlier. The young man seemed almost as uncomfortable as I felt. I figured I could keep him company and we could talk about what was going on between us.

Monty and I are not exactly what I would call friends, but we have an understanding. He comes over to my place sometimes when things get rough at home and I’ll meet him after practice or something at the docks and we talk or work on homework. We don’t talk about what goes on at home, though not for lack of trying on my part. I’ve offered to be an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. I’ve offered to either help him tell my mom or tell her myself, because she is a mandatory reporter. I’ve asked my dad the legalities and process that would result with accusations of alleged domestic violence as he put it, and tried explaining the process to Montgomery, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. As much as I would love to make him come forward, I know I can’t. The boy was terrified, though he tried to hide it. I gave up on bringing the subject after we had a blow-up fight about it at the docks one day. We didn’t talk for three days after that fight. In that time, he had snapped a bit. It became obvious to me that his friends had never really pushed the issue of his dad with him. In those few days, Monty had given Tyler a harder time than usual, argued with Coach Rick, yelled at Bryce, and on the last day of our silence, come to school with a black eye and a broken arm. When I saw that, I couldn’t let him continue to avoid me. I knew he had practice that day, and he had to attend regardless of his arm, so I made a run to Monet’s after school. I waited for him at his Jeep and after some coaxing and bribing with muffins, we drove to the docks and apologized. Our friendship went back to normal after that. I agreed to drop the subject and he agreed that if he ever wanted to talk about it, then he would.

I spotted Bryce talking to some boys from Hillcrest and nodded at him when he made eye contact with me. As much as I hate the guy, my parents taught me to be polite to people, even if the person was an evil little worm. I scanned the living room but didn’t spot Monty anywhere, but that wasn’t too concerning. Hes not attached to Bryce’s hip or anything, though Clay would beg to differ. I also couldn’t find Winston in the crowd. Figuring he would be in his room taking a breather, I made my way upstairs to crash his solo party. Everyone knew that Winston’s room and his parents’ room were off limits at these parties so I figured he would be alone. I didn’t think twice about the closed door because he is my best friend. We had seen each other in various states of dress before and I figured he was trying to avoid whoever decided to complain about the free pizza taking too long to arrive. I expected to find him reading or drawing. However, I did not expect to open the door and find Montgomery standing in front of my best friend with his pants around his ankles. Or Winston to be on his knees. I quickly covered my eyes and turned bright red as I gasped, trying to give them privacy. I would have walked out of the room but I was frozen. I peeked between my fingers as Monty whipped his head up and shouted a quick “fuck.” He pushed Winston away but kept him close enough to cover himself.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry. I thought… well not this. I just wanted to get away from all the people.” I exclaimed, embarrassed to have interrupted them. Monty let out a breath when he realized it was only me and Winston turned to look at me, his face also red.

“(Y/N)!” Winston exclaimed.

“I’m sorry. I’ll just go chill in your parents room.” I nodded at them and turned to leave. Before closing the door, I added “if this goes any further, use protection my dudes. As you were.” I smiled as I left the room, firmly shutting the door behind me. I spent the rest of the night holed up in the master bedroom.

I heard a commotion outside but figured it was just some drunken idiots playfighting. It wasn’t until Martha, one of Winston’s classmates came running into the room did I grow concerned. “(Y/N), you-“she paused to catch her breath. “You need to come quick. Its Winston. Bryce’s friend…. You just… you need to come outside.” She said quickly. I immediately knew that the commotion was much more than drunken stupidity. Jumping from the bed, I bolted down the stairs and saw Bryce and some other guy I recognised but didn’t know, pulling Monty off of my best friend. Monty was fighting Bryce’s grip on him and for the second time that night, I was frozen. Winston groaning pulled me out of my shock. I jumped back into action and saw the blood on his face. I directed Martha to pull him up because I knew she was doing an advanced health class of some kind. I looked at Winston’s face but couldn’t stop myself from turning to Bryce as he tried to talk some sense into Monty. Winston nodded at me that he was okay and I marched over to Bryce and Monty.

“Bryce, I’ve got him.” I tried to cut in. Bryce continued to berate Monty and ignored me. “Walker. Back off. I’ve got him.” I said again, louder and placed my hand on his shoulder. I pulled him back when he ignored me again. “Walker, I swear to God. Let go. I have him.” Finally, he turned to look at me. Monty looked at me as well and I saw fear cross his eyes briefly. He thought I was going to tell Bryce.

“What?” Bryce asked, gruffly.

“I. Have. Monty. Go talk to Winston.” I told him, leaving no room for argument. Bryce let go of Monty and begrudgingly went to talk to Winston. I stepped in front of Monty and grabbed his wrist when he tried to walk away. The shock at my action made him look at me. “You’re staying here. Stand right here and I’m going to go try and fix this. He is my best friend. Bryce is going to fuck this up more, but I should be able to keep your ass out of jail tonight. You are coming home with me. We will discuss this when we get to my place. Lucky for us, my parents are out of town.” I told him and watched as he sat against the bumper of Bryce’s Range Rover.

I walked over to Winston as I heard Bryce trying to “fix” the problem. “No one has to call the cops. Here’s two grand, I’ll give you three more tomorrow.” He offered Winston the cash as I cleared my throat.

“Are you fucking serious Bryce? Bribery? That’s your solution to your friend beating the crap out of him?” I cut in. Bryce looked at me and rolled his eyes.

“Look, hes fucked up. He gets beat at home and shit.” Bryce explained, as if it was the most natural fucking thing in the world. I felt my blood begin to boil at his comment.

“You know what Walker, fuck off.” I said through clenched teeth. “Let me handle this. He’s my best friend.” Bryce seemed surprised at my aggressive tone.

“Okay, I’ll get Monty home then.” He said.

“No. No you will not.” I told him. He seemed confused. “Just go wait with him while I clear this up. Do not take him anywhere.” Bryce nodded, realizing that I had learned a thing or two about arguing from my dad. He rushed back to his car and waited with Monty. “Alright, show’s over. Everyone clear out.” I called. When no one moved I added, “Now.” Roughly. People began to scatter back in the house and, like good little rich kids, pretended they hadn’t seen anything. They knew that if the cops got called, it would only add suspicion to their activities over the evening. “Are you okay Winston? What happened?”

“I’m okay. I don’t know. I said hey to him and he just… lost it. Walker and Darby pulled him off me as you came down. Was Bryce serious? About what happens at home?” He asked, a concerned look crossing his face. I hesitated. “(Y/N).”

“Y-yes. His uh… his dad is… well. He’s a shit excuse for a parent.” I explained.

“And you’re… friends? With him?” He continued.

“I wouldn’t say friends exactly? We never really defined what it is that we have. We just… talk about stuff. I’ve tried to get him to talk to someone, but you know I can’t force him to talk.” I told him. “Look, Monty is complicated. He has a lot of feelings he doesn’t know how to explain. What I walked in on tonight… I don’t think he had ever entertained those feelings before.”

“Okay. You seem to know him. What do you think just happened?”

“I think he is scared. I’m not trying to excuse his behaviour, but I think what happened earlier made him confront feelings he has had for a long time and I think he reverted back to what he knows how to feel. He knows how to feel angry. He knows how to inflict pain. He knows how to make people feel how he feels. I think he has had too much to drink and he needs to go sleep it off.” I explained, hoping Winston would understand. He deliberated for a moment and nodded.

“If he goes home with you, then I won’t press charges. I don’t need cops sniffing around a party. Tell Walker I’m keeping the money for insurance against asking what happened. I don’t want Bryce asking questions if Monty wants to keep this quiet.” I nodded and sat down to hug him softly.

I left Winston on the steps and walked back to Bryce and Montgomery. I turned my attention to Bryce. “It’s been taken care of. He’s keeping the money. You don’t ask questions about this. You don’t talk about this. As far as you’re concerned, this didn’t happen. How you explain being out two grand in one night is up to you. You’re going to get in the car and you are going to drive home. I will take Montgomery home and I will deal with this. You have helped enough tonight.” Bryce did not argue with me as he motioned for me to take over a now slightly calmer Montgomery. I took his arm and felt him still shaking. Bryce got in the car and began to drive away as I led Monty to my Civic. He wordlessly got in and did up his seatbelt as I rounded the car and did the same. We were silent as I drove back to my house. Thank god my parents are at a conference. I don’t want to explain this one to them.

[cakesunflower]

War of Hearts [Gang!Calum AU] Part 1

A/N: so this is like a mix of brother’s best friend and gang!Calum combined. very very lowkey my take on a kind of modernized version of Peaky Blinders but with my own stuff thrown in, ya know?

and as a kind of warning, seeing as this is a gang fic, there’s probably gonna be some kind of violence involved, just so you’re aware!

our babe Calum is introduced in this, but you won’t see him until part 2 ((kind of like how i started Sugar Coated Pain).

Part 1

As soon as the door opened, Ruby couldn’t even bring herself to flash a smile to her soon-to-be sister-in-law as she stormed into the house, demanding an aggravated, “Where is he?”

Crystal sighed, shutting the door behind Ruby as she ran her fingers through her blonde hair and said, “Backyard.”

Ruby walked through the house towards the back of it, hearing the dogs let out a bark in greeting as the heels of her boots clicked against the sleek wooden floorboards. Her muscles were tense with frustration and worry, knowing that while her brother was alive and breathing, he still put her through intense worry because of his stupid actions. It’s been years but Ruby would never not worry about him. Even going to school in a different state had her always wondering over Michael, checking in on her older brother and while her life was a lot more subtle than his, he’d do the same. And after the passing of their mom when Ruby was a junior in college, her dad already gone years prior, their sibling bond grew all the more.

Still, Ruby wished Michael would stop voluntarily putting himself in life or death situations.

Stepping out to the backyard, Ruby squinted her green eyes against the sunlight, immediately catching sight of Michael peacefully resting on the hammock hung between two trees off on the side. With her lips pressed together and exhaling sharply, Ruby made her way over in purposeful strides, the soft grass silencing the sounds of her heels as she approached him. Michael lay with his tattooed arm over his eyes, letting the sunrays soak into his pale skin, headphones in and completely unaware of his sister looming over him.

Irritatingly pouting her lips, Ruby stepped took a step away before gripping the hammock with both of her hands, Michael still oblivious, and mustering up all of her strength with a sharp inhale, gave it a violent turn. She jumped back, watching in satisfaction as her big brother let out a startled yell before flinging off the hammock and landing on the grass with a painful groan.

She stood over him with her arms crossed over her chest, making her feet tall in her 5’5” stature as her six foot tall brother looked up at her from where he lay on his stomach, glaring against the sun. While the scowl on his face would send practically every person in town running away, Ruby merely scowled right back. “What the fuck did you do that for?” Michael demanded, the anger and annoyance clear in his grunt as he pushed himself up, movements ever so slightly sluggish as he stood to his full height, towering over her. “You do know I’m injured, right?”

Ruby scoffed, unfazed. “You’ve been worse,” she pointed out matter of factly, knowing he couldn’t argue with her. She tilted her head to the side, frowning. “Let me ask you, Michael—you are living to see your wedding day, right?”

Michael’s lips curled in annoyance. “Of cou—”

“Then why would you put yourself in the literal line of fire just days before it?” Ruby burst out, staring at him in incredulity, giving a shake of her head as if she didn’t understand his thought process. Most days, she didn’t.

Michael let out a sigh, rolling his green eyes that matched Ruby’s. “Trust me, Rubes, Crystal’s given me an earful already—”

“As she should,” Ruby cut in, the glare returning to her face.

“—But no one else was available to make the drop and it was supposed to be a milk run,” Michael continued through her interruption, brushing the grass off his thighs. “How was I supposed to know it’d be an ambush?”

Ruby’s expression fell flat save for the dubious raise of her eyebrow. “Do I really need to answer that? You know what you do, right?”

Michael smirked, though Ruby failed to see how the circumstances called for that. “Why do you think the Sabers are down ten men?”

“Because Crystal told me Luke showed up to help you out.”

Her brother glared at the house over Ruby’s shoulder where his fiance was. “Traitor,” he grumbled.

Letting out a sigh, Ruby brought her hands up to cover her eyes before rubbing them down her face, the tension in her muscles not leaving all the way despite seeing her brother alive and well in front of her. Not many of the Saber’s members were bright, often opting to bring knives to a gun fight and never really learning from their mistakes, and from what Crystal had told her, Michael had received a few cuts on his stomach, back and arms. Ruby could see the scars on his arms, which would soon heal and mark his skin like the tattoos he wore, though Ruby much preferred the ink marring his skin rather than cuts and bruises.

Concern over his well being, his health, had been taken to a new level for Ruby when she was seventeen and Michael was nineteen, kicked out of the house after his family found out just what kind of people he was always around. He’d already dropped out of high school, a troubled kid in his own right, but to find out he’d become a full fledged member of The Riders had his loved ones reeling. And while his parents didn’t want anything to do with him, Michael and Ruby still managed to maintain a good relationship, becoming closer when she turned eighteen and her parents couldn’t actually force her to not see her brother.

Eight years later and Ruby was still worried about what Michael was getting himself into, despite knowing almost exactly what he was involved in. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe her big brother who used to have an affinity for dying his hair crazy colors was in a gang.

But he was the only family she had left, and losing him was a fear that’d make the top of every list.

Dropping her hands from her face, Ruby rested them on her hips as her green eyes met Michael’s. Then she stated matter-of-factly, “I’m going to kick Calum’s ass.”

Michael snorted, ring clad fingers brushing against the front of his shirt, not even looking at Ruby as he said, “I’d pay good money to see that. You can barely look him in the eye and you’re saying you’re gonna beat him up?” Michael grinned, teasing and amused as his gaze met the indignant one of his sister. “Good luck with that, Red.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes, lips an angry pout as she instantly snapped, “Don’t call me that.”

“Aw, is that just Cal’s name for you?” Michael cooed, snickering at the irritation radiating off of Ruby as he settled back into the hammock. “So sweet.”

She really was tempted to throw him off that hammock again. Calum Hood, her brother’s best friend and the notorious head of the damn Riders, was probably the scariest men she’s ever met. Granted, the first time they had met was when he was nineteen, yet even back then he had seemed to master the art of intimidation—made it seem like he created it. Back then, Ruby had just figured it was because he was a handsome boy she’d see whenever she was with her brother, his truly God-like looks of a chiseled jaw and dark eyes and full lips making her feel like a shy teenager.

But the more she saw him over the years, Ruby was quick to understand that she wasn’t just shy around Calum—she was, to an extent, scared of him. She had been assured by Michael, several times, that Calum would never hurt her, that she was family. And, sure, maybe she believed that, but that didn’t change the fact that Calum was more than capable of doing so. One that that had been so difficult to swallow, to accept, that the Riders were killers. That Michael’s friendship with them, with Calum, had turned him into one of them.

God, Ruby hadn’t spoken to Michael for nearly a month when she first found out he’d put a bullet in someone’s head, back when she was just turning nineteen. She’d definitely thrown up at the news, at the fact that her brother had taken a life. Michael had attempted to make it better, to reassure her that the guy was another gangbanger who would’ve killed him if he hadn’t pulled the trigger first. But it was him saying another gangbanger that had Ruby reeling. Because that’s what he was now.

Almost eight years later and she’d accepted the truth. Kind of.

Calum Hood though—fuck. As beautiful and dangerous as he may be, Ruby held some resentment towards him. For making this her brother’s life. For making it her life. And while Michael was as much to blame, Ruby could take it out on him. Calum was a different story.

Red.

She wasn’t a redhead by any means, inheriting the same familial dirty blonde hair that Michael did, those hers sometimes treaded the line of being light brown. But Calum called her Red from the moment he first met her because of her name, and because of her lips. Red lipstick almost always adorned Ruby’s full lips, one of the first things anyone ever noticed about her.

Definitely the first thing Calum had noticed.

                                                       *****

Everyone was wasted.

Realistically, Ruby should be as well, but she had drowned many of drinks in Coke and didn’t get nearly as drunk on light liquor as she did dark, and since none of the girls she was with preferred Hennessy over vodka, all Ruby had to show for was quite a pleasant buzz. Still, she was enjoying herself, the smile on her face hurting her cheeks and her head feeling light on her shoulders from the alcohol running through her veins.

She was in the city with Crystal and all of her friends, the bachelorette party underway in some exclusive club Ruby couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. They were in the V.I.P. section, of course, a bachelorette sash around Crystal’s body and a tiara atop her blonde head, a wide grin on her face that would be beat by the upcoming event tomorrow.

The lights were flashing, music was deafening, the DJ had given a shout out to the pretty bachelorette in the building, and the drinks kept on coming from the bar. Ruby was enjoying herself, reveling in the night off from work as she celebrated her brother’s wedding tomorrow, spending the night having fun with her future sister-in-law and her friends. Drinks were consumed, pictures were taken, and they all had enjoyed themselves on the dance floor before Ruby found herself back on the couch, sitting next to Crystal.

With her friends talking amongst themselves, Crystal leaned back on the couch, head tilting back as she mused to Ruby, “God, I hope no one decides to shoot up the wedding tomorrow.”

Ruby’s eyebrows shot up as she looked at Crystal, surprised by her words though, inappropriately enough, she felt amusement tickling the back of her throat. Truthfully, that concern of Crystal’s was a reasonable one, given the lifestyle Michael lived. Almost every single member of the Riders was going to be in attendance, and while that provided for ample protection, it was also a good target for enemy gangs that were looking for an easy way to take them out.

“Don’t worry,” Ruby assured, picking up her drink that was purposely seventy percent Coke and thirty percent Hennessy. “You and Mike will definitely be married this time tomorrow. The Riders will make sure of it.” She doubted Calum would let anything ruin his best friend’s wedding day.

A blissed, or maybe drunk, smile took over Crystal’s lips as she kept her gaze up at the ceiling, most likely thinking about the fact that tomorrow was her wedding day to the love of her life. And Ruby was so happy for them. She adored Crystal and was so happy that she was understanding of Michael’s lifestyle. She knew the risks of being involved with someone like him, but Crystal was by his side anyway. She’d earned the Riders’, and Calum’s, trust and had become part of a family that had accepted Michael when his own parents hadn’t. Ruby was so glad her brother found someone like him.

Crystal’s sigh pulled Ruby out of her thoughts, watching as the older woman sat up, leaning towards Ruby as she took a sip of her martini. With her friends still distracted, Crystal murmured to Ruby, “You’ve no idea what it’s like to love someone who’s constantly putting himself in danger.”

Ruby raised her eyebrows. Was Crystal that drunk? “Um—”

“No! I mean,” the bachelorette cut in with a quick giggle, one hand gripping Ruby’s arm. “Like, obviously, you have Michael, duh, and you love him. But he’s your brother, you know?” Crystal clarified over the loud music. “Not that the relationship you guys have is less in any way—because it isn’t. It’s greater, to be honest. But, like, someone you’re in love with and feel like is your other half?” she continued, eyebrows drawing together in distress as whatever thoughts fluttered through her mind. “Someone you wanna spend the rest of your life with and can’t—just can’t function without if they’re taken from you? The fear of losing someone like that is paralyzing.”

Ruby gulped, Crystal’s words hitting her harder than she expected. She didn’t have anyone like that in her life, just her older brother both she and the drunken blonde next to her wanted to keep in their lives forever. Ruby genuinely had no idea what she’d do if someone she was in love with was in the same life as Michael, was surrounded by the same kinds of dangers she feared would one day take her brother.

She felt Crystal rest her head against her shoulder as she mumbled, “I hope you never have to live like that, Ruby.”

Looking up at the ceiling, Ruby blinked back the burn she suddenly felt in her eyes. God, she hoped so, too.  

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @valentinelrh @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @astroashtonio @calumh-excess @hearts-to-the-sky @old-zeppelin-shirt @angelbbycal @captain-what-is-going-on @calumthoodsyonce @cathartichaoss @misskarynie @softboycal @soulmatecashton @babygirlcashton @cxddlyash @calumhoodless @roselukes @wrappedaroundcal @slimthicccal @kinglycalum @calumculture @ohhmuke @fucking5sos @heavenlyhemminqs @cosmixcalum @invisiblexcth @gettingjillywithit @calistheloml @cliffordcntrl @asht0ns-world @hereforlukescruff @ghostofch @ghostofhood @dxmncalum @bitchinbabylon @walkedhomealone @poppedpins @5secondssofssummer @calumsmermaid @booklove-2 @empathycth @checkeredcalum @lovelettercalum @kaxseychill @rosecoloredash @theagenderwhocriedwolf @cal-pal-cuddles @xhaileyreneex @paqueretteash @calteahood @biwriting @2k17muke @sublimehood @tupeloohoneyy @egyptiangoldhood @romanticalumhood @akacalciumhood @thebodaciouscth @5sos-stan4lyfe @lipstickstainfading 

[villainfirestar]

so let’s do this yeah?

VILLAIN FIRESTAR AU - PART 1

tigerclaw decides to go on a walk to clear his head, and ends up overhearing spotted and blue’s conversation, including the prophecy, although it is slightly different bc of this au’s events. he instantly decides it could be useful for his plan, so begins to keep an eye out. more frequent patrols, etc.

this leads to tiger finding an orange-colored kittypet staring out at the forest- this cat nearly gives him a heart attack from a distance, because he looks like fire. it clicks for tigerstar and he begins frequenting that area to try and get this kittypet’s interest (though he’s not thrilled that the prophecy relies on a twoleg-kisser)

sure enough, while patrolling, he notices rusty has left, but it’s when bluestar, lionheart, and graypaw are with him. he stops graypaw and says that he’s going to hop down from the tree for a closer look, and that in case it’s a stronger cat graypaw should stay here. it’s a good enough excuse.

rusty runs from tigerclaw when he sees this massive tom approaching, but the normal turning and deciding to fight back thing occurs as in the main book. tiger is impressed. begrudgingly, of course.

tigerclaw begins already starting his plan to manipulate the kittypet. he talks about the clans, but gives a large focus on leaders and deputies, almost overexaggerating their power and how amazing the role is. ofc rusty is amazed when finally the others jump down, they didnt hear the chat between the two, but they saw rusty fight back and all.

normal events occur as in the book, rusty goes home, but smudge argues with him bc he doesn’t trust the way tigerclaw is described by rusty. rusty gets pissedt and leaves late at night. tigerclaw notices him while coming back from the redtail murder patrol and gladly brings him to the clan upon request. the whole walk there, he continues filling rusty’s head with tigerclaw-propaganda. 

tiger’s plan is to have rusty be on board with tiger’s idea to take over when it is eventually presented to him. that way the prophecy will in some way help him out- after all, what better way to save the clans like in the prophecy, than have tiger unite them?

rusty nearly loses the fight with longtail, but his collar is eventually torn. he’s angry that he lost despite giving it his all, but tiger claims that longtail must have cheated, and that “if there was a strong enough leader and deputy around here, you’d have a fair shot. there’d be now trickery like that.” it’s one of the first big whoppers that pulls rusty to tiger’s side.

firepaw is shown around camp, when ravenpaw finally returns yelling about redtail’s death. (in this au, ravenpaw still witnessed the murder, but in trying to run he hit his head on a tree or smthn and conked out for a bit. he finds redtail’s body when he wakes up, but can’t be sure of what he saw at first.)

tiger: serves redtail right. he never could have made it as deputy.

fire: :0000 wow tru???

firepaw gets settled in after he’s handed off to graypaw, and they actually still become really good friends! 

however, the seeds have already been planted in his head, and he’s starting to idolize tiger. he doesn’t feel appreciated for not having an actual mentor, but wishes he could have tigerclaw since he’s already learned so much from him.

he learns ravenpaw is tiger’s apprentice, and gets very jealous, but hides it well enough.

timeskip a few moons and all, rusty has been v much manipulated by tigerclaw, who is teaching him as much anti-bluestar stuff he can while being subtle. eventually, tiger decides now is the right time and introduces firepaw to his true plan. firepaw, of course, eats it up, bc this plan fits so perfectly with the ideals he’s been taught. he and tiger are able to start planning for real, but only for snippets of the day. 

spottedleaf dies and it’s a big push towards the edge for firepaw. he’s angry and doesnt know how to take it out. tigerclaw is impressed with fire’s angry side and proposes an idea.

they begin sneaking out for training, because tigerclaw has also now stressed to rusty that his mentor(s) are inadequate on top of his other reasons, and that fire will learn all the things needed for the big plan if they trained together.

ravenpaw is being neglected, but now both he and graypaw have noticed something is up. ravenpaw manages to piece enough things together to determine redtail’s murder was not his imagination, and tells graypaw and firepaw. graypaw is worried, but firepaw leaves and tells tigerclaw, who is furious. he’s plotting how to silence ravenpaw, but firepaw decides now’s his time to prove himself to his Bad Dad(tm).

he’s jealous that ravenpaw gets to be tiger’s apprentice, but treats it like it’s nothing. now he has another reason to get rid of ravenpaw, though he doesnt think he has the heart for murder.

he tells raven tigerclaw knows and is gonna kill him that night. they run for the barn, but halfway there ravenpaw realizes that firepaw has been constantly rude and playing jokes on ravenpaw. raven calls fire’s bluff, and after increasingly angry and intense arguing, firepaw realizes someone might hear, and viciously attacks ravenpaw at riverclan border. and he goes to TOWN. the moment blood is drawn, something awakens in him, and he mangles that kiddo. he leaves the body in the river, and washes off, then goes back to camp.

he’s not proud of it at first, but regardless, tells tiger, who is his only guidance. tiger is proud of him though, says it was a good call and he tried his best not to kill at first, and firepaw begins to associate “necessary” violence with praise from his parental figure. 

they cover up the murder as ravenpaw suddenly disappearing, with fire even faking being concerned and regretful of teasing ravenpaw. no suspicion lands on him or tiger. he’s given tigerclaw as his new mentor.

he chases after yellowfang when the kits are gone, but graypaw also chased after yellowfang and stops him just before fire can attack her at shadowclan camp’s edge. he explains the real situation, and firepaw calms down. 

the shadowclan battle happens and firepaw becomes fireclaw, at his request, in honor of the warrior who has guided him so much since his arrival.

[plutoandpolaris]

Absentia Chapter 2: The Mission

I remember when I discontinued this and said it was because it took too long to write part two and no one would want to read it. Well, past Pluto, if a few months was too long for you, how about nearly two years? 

But lo and behold, it’s here and I fully intend to complete this story because goddammit I have so many incomplete WIPs and it bothers me. For those who don’t remember part one, which I assume is all of you, here's the link:

Absentia Chapter 1

This puppy is 9,000 words and two years in the making, so I hope you all enjoy it! And I apologize if the style is inconsistent, a lot has happened since I wrote the majority of this.

Summary: With the revelation that Henrik still lives, the others are forced to come up with some way to save him and bring their brother home. However, Marvin knows something the others do not, and he may not have the strength to stop his brothers before they get themselves killed or worse. 

(Tw: stab wounds, night terrors, guns, violence, foul language, Anti being a freaky fuck, blood, hospitals, surgery mention, broken bones mention, comas)

*if there's any more triggers you think I should add, let me know. This fic is a monster and I might have missed some. 

The air was frigid, sinking into his skin and chilling him to the bone. Everything was dark and quiet, save for pained, ragged breathing. 

“Hello?” 

Marvin called out into the darkness but received no answer except the desperate breaths and the oppressive silence. Then, he saw it. A figure slumped over on the ground, clutching a wound in his stomach, face unidentifiable. The magician attempted to reach out to him but he was glued in place, paralyzed no matter who fervently he struggled. A horribly familiar voice rang out into the darkness. 

“No one will be coming to save you this time.” 

A hand reached out from the void, pulling at the victim’s hair to wrench him into a kneeling position. Marvin let out a startled gasp as their face was revealed.

It was Jackie. 

The hand tightened in the hero’s hair, dragging him away into the darkness. 

“Jackie?! Jackie!” 

-

The weeks that followed their visit to Dr. Iplier were hell for Chase. With Jackie on semi-permanent bedrest and Marvin in a magic-induced coma, he was now the oldest healthy member of the household, which came with many responsibilities that he was definitely not ready for. Taking care of Jameson, defending the house should Anti attack, remembering to pay the electric bill, and now caring for Jackie and Marvin, all of it fell to him. He’d never realized how much Jackie and Marv did for them in the background, but it was incredibly stressful. 

Through it all, Chase had begun to appreciate JJ more than ever. He helped cook the meals, looked after Marvin, and was someone to confide in now that it was just them left. Chase would take care of Marvin in the morning, administer his medicine, and give Dr. Iplier a report over the phone, while JJ made sure Jackie was healing properly and taking the correct medication. At noon they would switch. 

A month had gone by with no change in Marvin’s condition, much longer than the Host had estimated. Every day came with the horrible fear that one of these mornings they would find the magician dead. At the very least Jackie was now healthy enough to be up and about, but even his effectively endless positivity didn't cure the sinking pit in Chase’s stomach. 

It wasn’t until a particularly blustery Friday night that something finally changed. 

JJ was asleep in an armchair next to Marvin’s bed, a half-finished book on his lap and a cup of tea nearby that had since gone cold. Then, after a month of dormancy, the comatose man’s eyes flew open. 

“ J-Jackie?!” He croaked out, his voice hoarse and scratchy from not being used in so long. 

JJ jolted awake, taking one look at the now awake Marvin and practically leaping to the door. He nearly tripped over himself as he sprinted down the short hallway, banging on bedroom doors as he went. Jackie exited his room immediately, arm still held tenderly against his body to protect his injured shoulder but eyes wild. 

“It’s 2 am Jameson, what’s going on?!” 

“Marvin’s awake!” JJ signed to him furiously, taking him by his good arm and practically dragging him to the magician’s room.  

Marvin had since attempted to sit up, the movement clearly difficult by the way he was half slouching against the headboard. His eyes widened when JJ and Jackie burst through the door, both out of breath from sprinting across the apartment. 

“Jackie?! You’re- Where the hell am I?! How long has it been? Is Anti-” 

“You’re home, Marv.” 

Marvin wound a hand through his hair, looking around the room and realizing that it was, in fact, his own. He looked to Jackie again, noticing that the gash on his temple had healed down to nothing but a pale scar.

“It's been a month, we were worried you wouldn't ever wake up.” 

Focus returned to Marvin’s eyes, confusion morphing into worry. 

“Where's Chase? Is he alright?” 

As if on cue Chase lumbered through the door, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Guys, what was all that banging about?! You’d think Anti broke in with all that racket.” 

It wasn't until he looked up that he noticed who they were all gathered around. 

“Marvin!” 

Chase ran to his bedside, throwing his arms around the magician in a crushing hug. 

“You're alive!” 

“I won't be in a minute if you keep squeezing me like that!” Marvin struggled in Chase’s grip but he was far too weak to worm his way out of it. 

They all laughed, more out of relief than anything else. 

JJ stayed at a respectable distance- he never was one for physical contact- but the relief on his face was palpable. 

However, once the jovial air wore off, more pressing questions were at hand. 

“What happened while I was out?” 

Chase and Jackie spent the next fifteen minutes filling him in on their visit to Dr. Iplier and the revelation that Schneep was alive. Marvin listened with little reaction, but the others could see how much the news troubled him.

“He’s been alive out there this entire time?” 

Chase had since ducked out of the room to call Dr. Iplier and tell him Marvin had woken up, so it was only Jackie and JJ left in the room. 

“Apparently,” Jackie answered, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “He seemed pretty proud of it too.” 

“It was Anti who said this, correct? How do you know he’s not lying to us?” 

“We don’t, do we?” JJ signed to them, although it was difficult to tell what he was trying to say in the dim light. 

“What, would you rather he be dead?  I don’t care if this is another of Anti’s lies, I’m going to look for him. We can’t just forget he ever existed.” 

Marvin sat up straighter in bed, defiance etched into his exhausted face. 

“That is not what I’m trying to say.” 

“Then what are you trying to say?!” 

Marvin’s coma visions flashed in his mind, Jackie’s bloody, bruised face sending a pang of fierce protectiveness through his chest. 

Any mission to save Schneeplestien would end in tragedy, the magician knew it. His visions had never lied to him before, and he had no reason to believe they would now.

There was a long period of silence before Marvin spoke again, his voice quiet. 

“I’m just trying to say we should be cautious, is all. This could be a setup. We don’t have any proof that Henrik really is still alive. Wouldn’t it be better to spend our resources on protecting those we know are still here?” 

“But what if he is still alive?! We’d be leaving him to die!” 

“After this much time with Anti? He’s probably already dead, mentally if not physically.” 

Jackie’s hands were shaking with anger at this point, and Marvin knew he’d crossed a line. 

“That doesn’t mean we should just fucking abandon him.” 

“Gentlemen, please-”

“You stay out of this!” Jackie snapped, JJ recoiling back from the harsh words. 

“Don’t yell at him!” Chase had ducked back into the room at the noise, gripping JJ’s shirt sleeve as he maneuvered the younger towards the doorway. 

“I leave for 5 minutes and you two are already arguing! Don't you think that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly what Anti wants?!” 

“Chase-” 

“Save it. This ain't any kind of conversation to be having at two in the morning. Let Marvin rest, we can settle this tomorrow.” 

When Chase pulls out his authoritarian parent voice, you don’t argue. 

“Jackie, I didn't mean-” 

Marvin reached out to him, but Jackie had already stood, face ashen but steeled in determination. He had made up his mind, the exact thing Marvin was trying to prevent. 

JJ followed him out as he left, though at a slight distance

Chase, however, turned back to Marvin with a curt “goodnight” before shutting the door behind him. 

Then it was Chase and JJ alone in the hall, Jackie having quickly ducked into his room to avoid the palpable disappointment radiating off of Chase. Jameson tapped him lightly on the shoulder. 

“What is it, JJ?” 

“They are frightened, Chase. Don’t blame them for their anger.” 

Chase sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t blame them, Jameson, I’m just-” 

“Trying to keep everything together? You’ll never be able to do that alone. None of us can.” 

Chase let out a nervous laugh. “Tell me about it.” 

JJ sighed, taking Chase by the wrist. He led the other into the kitchen, sitting him at the table and moving to put the kettle on. 

“Tea always puts me in high spirits.” 

After a few minutes of silence, JJ joined Chase at the table with two cups of chamomile. The two sat, listening to the sounds of the wind and snow battering the outside of the apartment. 

“How do you always seem to know just what to say? I wish I could do that, probably would've made me a better parent.” 

JJ looked out the near window into the growing snowstorm, contemplative.

“When you cannot speak,” his hands hovered in the air for a moment, contemplative.“you learn to make every word count.” 

They didn't say anything more, sitting in silence until their teacups were empty. Chase bid JJ a thank you and goodnight, heading back to bed himself. Jameson was left at the table, cleaning the cups in the soft amber glow of the kitchen. 

-

The next morning, a house meeting was called. Marvin was helped from his bed to a similar position on the couch, with JJ in the armchair and Chase and Jackie on the futon. 

Jackie called the meeting to order. 

“I've called you all here because we need to figure out what we're going to do. Sitting here bickering is going to help no one.” 

He surveyed the room, eyes landing on each member of the household before settling on Marvin.

“So, we're going to have a good old fashioned vote. All in favor of going after Henrik, raise your hand.” 

Jackie’s was up first, then Chase’s, and finally JJ’s. Marvin was the only one who didn't move.

“Marv, please, we need you if we’re going to make this work,” Chase pleaded.

“Why are you so opposed to it anyway? If we try and fail, at least we tried. At least we did something.” Jackie said, his words punctuated with silent anger that made the air run cold.

He couldn't tell them, he just couldn't. Marvin knew his visions, and he knew they couldn't be changed. All they could do was delay it, but the moment in time had been written in stone. All telling them would do is delay the inevitable and cause them all more pain. 

The room was silent for a long few seconds,  

“I'm scared, Jackie.” 

If it wasn't quiet before, it certainly was now. Like Jackie, Marvin has never admitted to weakness. Fear wasn’t an option. He'd work himself straight into the grave if the others didn't stop him, it was the whole reason he managed to get to the point of coma in the first place. Admitting to fear was huge to Marvin. He’d never do it unless there was just cause. 

“I’ve lived and breathed this kind of magic for months now. It is extremely serious, powerful enough to get inside your brain and change you on a fundamental level. This goes beyond Night Sickness or even demon possession. Spending nine months in constant contact with demonic magic, if it doesn’t kill you, will turn you into something unrecognizable. Jameson is the only one of us here who even has the slightest inkling of what that’s like, and he was only exposed to it for upwards of an hour.” 

JJ nodded, absentmindedly rubbing the pale scars on his fingers. 

“Are you absolutely sure there’s no way to reverse it? If we’re able to get him back at all, that is.” Jackie asked, tone softer this time. 

“Possibly. There are ways to cleanse the system of demonic power, but even the most powerful magic can’t reverse the mental and physical trauma associated with being Anti’s prisoner for half of a year. There isn’t a power on this earth that can completely cure that.” 

Jackie held his head in his hands for a moment. 

“We have to try.” 

Marvin contemplated this for a long time, his eyes almost visibly clouded with doubt. Then, after nearly a full minute of silence, he spoke.

“Chase, you know the bookshelf in my room? On the bottom shelf against the right wall, there’s a dark blue book. Bring it to me. Call Host too, I'm going to need some help.” 

Marvin threw off the blanket that was draped across his shoulders, struggling into a sitting position.

“We’re going to find ourselves a doctor.” 

-

In a little less than fifteen minutes, Host and Marvin had set themselves up at the kitchen table with the book between them. Bing had also tagged along, mostly just to visit Chase. 

While the others tried finding ways to help, it was obvious that Marvin and Host were operating with things none of them could understand. After a while, it became clear that what they really needed was to be left alone. 

Host had Marvin take a break every half hour, to make sure he didn’t exhaust himself. He wasn’t even supposed to be using magic at all, especially this soon after coming out of a coma, but there wasn’t much of a choice in the matter. The work helped to lift his mood though, as it usually did. He was starting to look less like a walking corpse and more like the Marvin he was before this whole mess began. 

It wasn’t until two weeks later that they had pinpointed Schneep’s possible location. 

-

It was an early Monday morning, about 6:00 am, everyone in the apartment still asleep except for Marvin, the Host, and Bing. Host and Marvin had been up all night as they usually were, while Bing didn’t even need to sleep, being an android. He instead busied himself with trying to find something in the board game cabinet he could entertain himself with. 

While the others had been expecting a loud celebration once the location was found, there wasn’t one. Finding the doctor had been a long and grueling process of elimination, using a myriad of various tracking magics and knowledge of Anti and his habits, provided by a report Host had stolen from Dark’s desk drawer. 

“Why the hell does Dark even have this?” Marvin had asked of him when the document was brought up. 

“Anti is his biggest competition. It is beneficial to know your enemy. The Host just hopes he doesn‘t notice it’s gone.” 

Once the others were awake, Marvin called them into the sitting room again to deliver the good news. 

“Thanks to this,” Marvin held up the report, “We’ve found one alternate dimension that has the biggest chance of being the one Anti’s been hiding out in. Apparently Dark has hired some kind of spy to follow Anti around, for his own reasons I’m sure, but Anti has been seen frequenting a tear in the abandoned fishing village of Hallsands in Devon.”

“Question, what’s a tear?” Chase asked. 

“It’s a place where the boundaries of this dimension are weaker than usual, allowing easier passage out of this dimension into another. There are hundreds of them, but it’s suspicious that Anti has been frequenting this one in particular.” 

“And,” Marvin continued, “It would make sense for Anti to pick it considering that even visitors aren’t allowed in the village proper since the access road is blocked by the sea. I’m not sure if I'll be able to make a portal in my condition, but I don't think I have much of a choice. Still, someone’s going to have to go in to find Schneep, and even I don't know what you'll find in there.” 

Marvin was out since he had to be the one to actually open the portal, and Chase backed out immediately after. He didn't want to be anywhere near Anti, not after last time. 

That left Jackie and JJ. Jackie had already volunteered, but to make the plan work, they needed one person to distract Anti and the other to find and free Schneep while the demon was occupied. 

“I’ll do it.” 

The others gawked at Jameson, wide-eyed. JJ was probably the gentlest among them, and considering what had happened to him in October, the least likely to want to face Anti in person again. Yet still, his eyes burned with uncharacteristic determination. 

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? We wouldn't judge you if you backed out, you have a better reason than any of us do.” 

“Somebody has to do it. Might as well be me.” 

It was clear that he had made up his mind. 

Though Jackie never would have expected to be going in with JJ of all people, he respected the courage required to agree to a dangerous, possibly even suicidal mission all to save someone Jameson hadn’t even met before. 

-

Now that the details of the plan had been decided, then began the month-long preparation period. Jackie spent the majority of it training with Bing. A strange choice from the outside, but being an android, Bing was much stronger and faster than any human being could possibly hope to be. He didn't have any formal combat training and was as clumsy as you'd expect, but that didn't really matter. His only real job was to try and hit Jackie as fast as he possibly could-which was several times faster than most normal people can blink- and see if Jackie could dodge it. 

It left him with a lot of nasty bruises, but he was improving. The name of the game was speed. Jackie knew he couldn't beat Anti in hand to hand combat and there was no way he'd ever be able to, but all this mission really entailed was distracting and slowing him down long enough for JJ to find Schneep and free him. That, Jackie could do.

At least he hoped so. 

Alongside his own training, Jackie spent time trying to teach JJ the absolute basics of staying alive in a fight against Anti. He was an attentive listener, but his problem was one that couldn’t be solved in the short time they had until the mission. 

He was far too gentle and empathetic. He vehemently refused to hit Jackie, even when reassured that it wouldn’t hurt him. 

“I’ve been punched in the face by a robot six times today, you’re not going to hurt me,” he’d say, but Jameson still wouldn’t do it. 

JJ certainly wasn’t weak physically, none of them were. He’d do anything else Jackie asked of him to the best of his ability, but he wouldn't fight on any condition. Hell, he wouldn’t even practice against Bing, who couldn’t feel any pain in the first place. As far as he was concerned, hurting another living being on purpose made him no better than Anti.  

“Jameson, you have to remember, Anti isn’t human. I’m not even sure if he’s truly alive, not like we are. You can’t let yourself feel for him, because he’s sure as hell isn’t going to feel for you. God forbid if I’m out of commission, it’s just going to be you, Henrik, and Anti. If that happens, you fight or you die.” 

JJ was clearly conflicted by this, Jackie could see it in the nervous twitching of his brow and the way he refused to look up from the floor. 

Jackie laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“The offer to back out is still there. Chase said he’ll take your place if he has to.” 

JJ immediately shrugged the hand off of his shoulder. 

“No.”

The sign was short and aggressive, about as close to yelling as Jameson could ever get.  

It was that moment that made it clear that this was more than JJ wanting to help. This was personal. The others obviously had varying levels of hatred and fear towards Anti, but for JJ it was something much, much more than that. 

He’d never talked about what being possessed was like and waved off any attempts by the others to console him after the fact, but it still affected him majorly. It was one of the reasons he wanted to help save Schneep regardless of never having met him. The doctor might be the only other person alive on earth that knew what it was like, that could understand. 

This mission, having a handhold over Anti, proving that they weren’t completely helpless; that meant everything to him. It was less about proving it to the demon and more about proving it to himself. 

That despite what everyone had assumed about him, he was his own person. 

For the next few days after that, they took a break from combat and focused on teaching JJ other skills. Dr.Iplier taught him basic first aid and how to tell if someone had a concussion, where the pulse is, how to properly slow the effects of blood loss, among several other things he may need to employ depending on what condition they found the doctor in. 

Jackie taught him how to pick locks, and how to breathe and walk to make the least amount of noise possible. 

Jameson absorbed the information like a sponge, becoming near obsessed with perfecting every skill they laid in front of him. He’d stay up until the early hours of the morning, picking the lock on his own door until the inside mechanisms broke from the strain. He’d become so good at sneaking around that by the time they were ready to leave he could stand in the corner of a room completely undetected for 30 minutes and no one would even notice him until he moved. 

-

The day had finally come for them to leave. Jackie had dressed JJ in black, flexible clothing, the kind he usually wore to night missions where he needed to be discreet. Seeing Jameson in semi-casual attire was strange, and he seemed uncomfortable in it, but this mission relied on maneuverability and stealth. It was necessary. 

Jackie, JJ, Chase, Marvin and Dr. Iplier were all waiting on the back lawn of the apartment complex, preparing to leave. Bing had also come to see them off. 

Dr. Iplier was dressed warmer than usual in a black turtleneck under a heavier black denim overcoat. Slung over his shoulder was a leather doctor’s bag. None of them knew how they had managed to convince him to come along, but they were going to need a doctor once they rescued Schneep. If they managed to, that is. 

All of them were dressed for brisk weather, in dark clothing fit for winter. Spring definitely wasn’t upon them just yet, and the cold air off of the sea certainly wasn’t going to improve things. 

Chase and Host had supplied Jackie with a pistol and three silver bullets, the last of what Host had made after the others were lost in their last fight. The weapon was strapped to his waist along with other provisions.

Jackie had never liked guns, mostly because of how impersonal they were. If he had to kill someone he would rather it be visceral and real, a reminder of the sacrifices one has to make in order to keep the peace. 

However, this mission was a notable exception to his rule. There was too much at stake. 

JJ was dressed similarly, a small bag strapped to his side containing his lock pick tools, a small roll of bandages and a container of antiseptic.

The irony of that certainly wasn't lost on them. 

They were about ready to leave and had said their goodbyes when Host approached JJ.

He took a metal object out of his coat and placed it in Jameson's hands, curling the other man’s fingers around it.

“This is a dagger of pure silver. The Host only ever made three of these. One is in his library, one was destroyed by Darkiplier, and the last is in your hands now.

Use it only when necessary.” 

Jameson looked down at the blade, a sharp bolt of fear running down his spine at the familiarity of the weapon. Host obviously noticed his discomfort.

“A weapon is defined by the hand that wields it. Anti’s way is not the only way. This time, the power is in your hands.” 

JJ nodded, curling his hand around the blade and depositing it in the pocket of the light jacket he wore.

If nothing else, he hoped he'd never have to use it. 

It was time.

With a twitch of Marvin’s wrist and a light blue glow, the portal ripped open. He made it seem easy, but the others could see the strain in his face. He’d studied the area for at least a week beforehand so opening the doorway itself was simple, yet it sapped a considerable amount of his still healing magic reserves.

Casting one last look back at the apartment, the group made their way into the unknown. 

-

Jackie wasn't sure what he was expecting. He'd seen pictures- a dilapidated village swallowed by the sea- but seeing it in person was something different entirely. 

The air held a heavy sense of foreboding and danger, like every rock and broken roof tile was telling them to turn around before it was too late. 

It was a strange sensation, like the village knew that something evil had taken residence within its borders. 

All was silent save for the occasional seagull and the hypnotic lap of the waves against the sharp rocks of the shore. The group exchanged quick glances before beginning the treacherous climb down to the village proper. 

Marvin needed the most help as his muscles were still weak from his time in a coma, but the others managed. 

“Heights and the ocean. It's like he’s mocking us,” Dr. Iplier said, casting a cautious glance to the shoreline. Jackie grunted in agreement.

“He's always mocking us, that's what he does.”

They didn't speak again until they had reached the first building.

Half of the roof was caved in, the inside filled with rocks and damp sand. The edge of a table stuck out from the rubble, the memory of someone who had lived there once upon a time. 

“We’re close enough to open the portal,” Marvin announced once they reached the doorway of the house. 

Dr. Iplier set down his bag, looking Jackie and JJ over one last time. 

“Try not to get yourselves killed in there.” 

A familiar lopsided grin appeared on Jackie’s face, easing the near painful tension in the air. “No promises.” 

Marvin shot them a glance, a clear signal that he needed silence. 

The others compiled as the magician sat cross-legged on the sand, muttering under his breath. 

For a while, nothing happened. The others were starting to wonder if Marvin even had enough power left to open the portal, considering how weak the coma had made him. 

However, all doubts were dispelled when the tear actually opened up. 

It almost looked fake, like a bad photoshop job in real life. The portal was a perfectly square doorway, leading into pure darkness on the other side. The air around it was tight and humid, compressed with static and smelling of ash and seawater. 

“Ash. There's definitely a demon in there.” 

Dr. Iplier’s hand tightened on his bag as he took a few stumbling steps away from the portal. 

Jackie turned to the others: Marvin, cross-legged on the ground, the doctor, leaning against the wall of the dilapidated building, and Chase, who was hugging his arms to himself against the cold wind. He held his eyes on each one for a moment, a cold sense of loss seeping into his bones. There was always a chance Jackie would leave for a mission and not come back, but this one felt different.

He chalked it up to being so close to Anti, it tended to make one feel all sorts of negative emotions. 

Jackie turned to JJ.

“You ready?”

Jameson gave a curt nod and nothing more. His hands were pressed into his pockets, gripping around the dagger he had stored there. 

They turned to head into the portal, not daring to look back in fear that they would lose the courage to keep going. 

Once they were completely inside the portal, all went silent. Unnaturally silent, so much so they could quite literally hear the blood in their own veins. The environment itself wasn't very visually stimulating either. It was a dark void of absolutely nothing, save for a set of stairs floating in the middle of the empty space. They seemed to disappear halfway up, into a second-floor neither of them could see. 

Then they heard the singing. 

Singing was a strong word for it, (it was more aptly described as talking in rhythm with occasional humming) but it was definitely some kind of song. The voice itself was hauntingly familiar. 

“Wait, I know that melody. I've heard it somewhere before.” 

Jameson signed, his hands difficult to see in the dim light. 

“It's called The Bloody Miller, it's an old English folk ballad from the sixteen hundreds about a man who murders his girlfriend and throws her body in the river.” 

“Why would Anti be singing anything, let alone four-hundred-year-old folk songs?” 

The two were crouched near the base of the stairs, straining to hear the words. 

“I’m unsure, but from what I've heard of Marvin and Hosts’ conversations, Anti is probably old enough to have been around when it was written.” 

The two made their way silently up the stairs, wincing every time the wood groaned under their feet. The singing stayed constant, and the closer 

they got, the more they could make out the words.

“Thus she fell on bended knee,

For mercy she did cry,

‘For heaven's sake don't murder me,

I am not fit to die.”

The words were accentuated by the scratch of metal on whetstone. Anti was sharpening his knives. 

Jackie and JJ were perched at the top of the stairs, leaning against a concrete wall. The wall itself appeared to be floating in the void, going on in one direction until it disappeared into the darkness. 

“You must surprise him while he isn’t paying attention.” 

Jackie nodded, watching as Anti dipped his whetstone into the bucket of water at his side. 

He was seated at a wooden table, the surface dappled with dark stains. He had stopped singing, instead quietly humming the tune of the ballad under his breath. 

A scar could be seen on the back of Anti’s neck from their last encounter, satisfaction humming in Jackie’s veins at the sight. 

The hero’s hand tightened on the grip of the gun Chase had given him, although it was still in its holster. 

Now or never. 

He stepped out of his hiding place, aiming the gun straight at the back of Anti’s head, wasting no time before pulling the trigger.

The bullet never made its mark.

By the time Jackie had gotten his bearings and looked up, Anti had caught the bullet between his thumb and pointer finger, examining it for a moment before looking over his shoulder at the bewildered hero.

“Sorry Jackie, I don't make the same mistake twice.” 

Anti let the bullet drop to the floor, setting down his whetstone and lifting his knife to examine it. 

“Nice weather out here in Devon, isn't it? So happy you could join the party, I'm sure the doctor was getting a tad lonely.” 

Jackie's grip tightened on the gun once more, his judgment clouded by just how much he wanted to shoot the smug smile off of Anti’s face.  

His efforts only made him smile wider.

“Getting a little trigger happy? You only have two bullets left in that gun, I'd use them wisely if you want to come out of this alive.” 

How the hell did he know that? 

“But why delay this any longer since you're obviously so excited? You want your precious doctor back so badly?” Anti stood, running a hand over the freshly sharpened edge of his blade. “Then come get him.” 

 Jackie was going back out of that door with Schneeplestien or not at all. 

But, he stopped himself. One of the fatal errors of his last battle was his zeal and impatience. Anger and fear only made Anti stronger and stacked the odds against them even more so than they already were. 

So, he waited for Anti to strike first. 

The demon stood rigid, contemplating. Then he was gone.

Jackie sensed the static behind him and turned at the last moment, gripping Anti’s wrist right as the knife wavered above his face. 

Then he was gone again. 

This battle really was one of speed, and Jackie had underestimated just how tiring dodging Anti’s cavalcade of blows would become. 

After the first five minutes, Anti stopped playing games. 

He reappeared above Jackie, falling on top of him and knocking him on his back. Both of Anti’s boots were pressed into Jackie’s arms, pinning him to the ground. 

The hero managed to kick up with his knees to free himself, but the blow had rendered him breathless. Anti circled him slowly, his form twitching spastically in horrifying fashion. 

He thought about using the gun, but considering how easily Anti’d caught the bullet earlier the effort seemed fruitless. He was out of ideas and out of options, so he went for the simplest solution. 

Turning sharply, Jackie charged Anti and shoved him against the table, managing to land a few blows to his face and chest. Anti grabbed the hero by the arms as they went down, flipping him over the wooden surface and cracking his head off of the edge as they both went crashing to the ground. 

Jackie felt a deep ache in his stomach just as they hit the ground, as if he’d been punched hard in the gut, and only upon looking down did he realize what had happened. Anti had stabbed him, the knife buried to the hilt. 

The demon was on top of him, eyes blown wide in satisfaction as he twisted the blade in further. 

The pain hit Jackie all at once, a tidal wave of agony that immediately turned his vision dark at the edges. He could feel everything, Anti’s aura on him, the knife tearing the flesh, the burn of the bruises on his arms from the last assault. 

He had nowhere else to look but Anti’s face. No matter how much he tried to avert his eyes he couldn't, the poisonous green of Anti’s gaze filled Jackie’s entire field of vision. The mingling of the static aura and the unbearable pain of the wound clouded his brain. He couldn't think, he couldn't speak, he couldn't even blink. 

Anti whispered the next section of the ballad into Jackie’s ear, his voice calm but tinged with insanity that tainted every word. 

“From ear to ear I slit her mouth

And stabbed her in the head,

Till she poor soul did breathless lie

Before her butchers bled.”

Jackie wanted nothing more than to call out for JJ, tell him to run, warn him that Anti had beaten him and that he needs to escape, but his voice remained lodged in his throat. Anti’s smile only widened at Jackie’s vain attempts to call out for help. 

“You trained so hard but only lasted seven minutes. What a shame.” 

Anti stood, pulling out the knife in one fluid, agonizing movement. Even though he was now free from the demon’s gaze, all Jackie could manage was a pained whimper. 

“Time to go find your little companion. Fancy a game of hide and seek?” 

Jackie had curled into a ball, clutching his wound as the blood darkened his shirt and flowed between his fingers. Dignity in this situation was the farthest thing from his mind.

“If you want to kill me, just fucking do it, but leave him alone.”

Anti laughed as he turned on his heel and stalked back into the darkness, quietly at first, the sound then growing into a cacophony of crazed giggling. 

“Kill you? That’s the game of the merciful. 

If you died, your pain would be over. Where's the fun in that? I’ll be back for you as soon as I deal with this little thorn in my side.” 

Then he was gone, out of sight in the velvet darkness of the void. 

JJ had followed the plan exactly, slinking through the darkness as Jackie kept Anti occupied. He'd left before Anti had overpowered the hero, and thus was oblivious to the pair of malicious eyes watching him from the darkness as he discovered the holding cell. 

Slumped against the concrete wall was a figure, a tattered doctor's coat hanging limply off of his shoulders. He was leaned against the wall, hand clutching his chest, seemingly unconscious. 

The closer Jameson got, the worse the scene became. The doctor’s pallid face was horrifying, his grey ashen skin tone and concave cheeks giving him the look of a corpse. Blood stained his clothes, and what skin that was visible was decorated with so many scars it looked as if he’d been through a trash compactor, several still healing and clearly grotesquely infected. 

Fortunately he did appear to be breathing, though every breath came with a lung rattling wheeze that definitely didn't sound healthy. 

JJ knelt next to the door, taking out his simple lock pick tools and going to work. The door sprung open fairly easily, almost too easily, but he cast aside his doubts. There wasn't any time to dawdle on the ‘what ifs’. Once inside, he went about picking the locks on the manacles around the doctor’s wrists. 

Being this close to Henrik, seeing the damage, recognizing all of Anti’s little trademarks in the wounds and abrasions across the doctor's skin, it sent a pang of painful remembrance through him. It was all so familiar, and the fact remained that it could’ve just as easily been him if Anti hadn’t left when he did.  

The second chain had fallen when Jameson felt it, the familiar hum of static in his ears. His brain had only just registered that he should get the hell out of there when cold metal settled against his collarbone.

“Reminiscing, are we?” Anti’s voice reverberated in his ears, sending a jolt of panic through him so strong that it nearly knocked him over. 

If Anti’s here, he thought to himself, then what happened to Jackie?!  

“Didn't think you’d have the courage to face me.” The knife skirted from his collarbone up towards his jaw, Jameson himself still as a statue. “You’re either incredibly brave, or incredibly foolish.” 

He wanted to panic, every instinct he had was telling him to panic, but he held it down. He’d survived Anti’s assaults before. He knew what it was like, and he knew that the absolute worst thing you could do when trapped by Anti was panic. 

Yet, he felt Anti’s presence like a shadow, creeping into his skin, taking hold of him from the inside. Every vein in his skin was being wrapped around the demon’s fingers like the silver strings of a marionette, his body straining against it but unable to escape. 

“I was planning to kill you, get you out of the way, but maybe I should keep you. Watch the light drain from your pretty little eyes.” 

Anti leaned in close, his breath unnaturally cold against Jameson’s ear. “Wouldn't that be-” 

Anti’s speech was cut off by a gunshot, the sound of the bullet striking the back of Anti’s head and sizzling there leaving a thick feeling of nausea in the pit of Jameson’s stomach. Anti let out a short, rasping screech before falling silent, slumping hard against Jameson’s back, the knife clattering to the ground. 

JJ shoved the limp body off of him, watching as it slumped motionless against the cracked concrete floor, smearing the blood from his neck wound down the back of Jameson’s neck in the process. 

The blood was ice cold.

He whirled around to see Jackie, one hand holding the pistol Chase had given him and the other clutching a wound in his stomach. 

Jackie’s eyes locked onto Jameson’s for a moment before he collapsed, the pistol clattering to the ground. 

“Run, please- get Schneep and go!” 

He growled through clenched teeth, clutching his wound and struggling to stay conscious. 

Anti was sprawled on the ground, a bullet wound square in the back of the head. He really did look dead, still and lifeless, but Jameson knew better. He was still breathing, albeit shallowly. They knew he wouldn't be killed that easily. 

Jameson lifted Schneep up into his arms, careful not to irritate any of his still-healing wounds. He was so light, it was heartbreaking. 

JJ knelt next to Jackie next, attempting to lift him up too, but the hero shooed him away.

“No, leave me. Anti’ll get up soon, he's already moving. Get the doctor out of here!” 

Jameson shook his head rapidly but Jackie wouldn't budge. 

“Go!” 

JJ stared into Jackie’s eyes for a moment, tears gathering in his own before he tore his gaze away and ran as fast as he could back the direction he had come, clutching onto the doctor for dear life. 

After a brief sprint, Jameson came tumbling back out of the portal, tripping onto the rocks and sending both him and the doctor tumbling onto the sand. 

Meanwhile, Jackie was still clutching his wound, waiting as Anti slowly got back up. If he ran, he'd lure Anti out towards the others and compromise everything they'd worked for. 

He only hoped he'd bleed out before Anti could fully release his anger. 

The demon struggled to his feet, breathing heavily through the blood that had gathered in his mouth. His eyes were black as ink, his form struggling to stay anchored as blood dripped from the bullet wound, collecting in his hair and running languidly down the back of his neck. 

“You’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

Anti reached up to the back of his head, digging his nails into the wound until they gripped the bullet and ripped it out. It was damaged from impact, most likely leaving pieces inside of Anti’s skull. Still, he didn’t seem to care, though the pain that clouded his eyes said otherwise.

Anti stalked towards Jackie, his movements jarring and stilted, his face a horrifying kaleidoscope of blood, scars and seething anger that darkened the very air around them. 

He took hold of Jackie’s hair, jerking his head upwards in a swift motion. Jackie himself didn't even have the strength to fight against it, the action eliciting nothing but a pained groan. He could feel his skin getting clammy and cold, a sign of severe blood loss. 

“This is an old, old dimension, Jackie. Something this old is easy to dismantle, especially if you have the right tools.” He gave the hero’s hair another tug. “No one will be coming to save you this time. Not unless they want every molecule in their useless fucking body ripped apart one by one!” 

Jackie could feel the air around him constricting, physically breaking apart, stealing the little air left in his lungs. The fabric of the dimension was ripping itself apart. 

Anti turned, dragging Jackie farther back into the darkness. 

“And then I took her by the hair 

To cover the foul sin

And dragged her to the riverside 

And threw her body in.”  

Jackie had stopped struggling. He vaguely registered that he was about to die, but it didn't terrify him as much as he thought it would. If anything it was a relief. A selfish one, but he no longer cared. 

Back on the other side of the portal, Marvin was struggling. The door was trying to close, and not only that, he could feel the dimension itself splintering apart.

With Jackie still inside.

JJ was so shaken up that he couldn’t even sign, Chase kneeling in the sand nearby, desperately trying to console him. Dr. Iplier hovered over Schneeplestien, checking his vitals and bandaging what wounds he could with his limited supplies. 

Eventually the force of the collapsing dimension was too much, the doorway snapping shut and creating a shockwave so strong that it flung Marvin fifteen feet away, where he fortunately landed in a small sand drift. 

“We have to go back in there! Jackie’s trapped!”  Chase had stepped away from JJ, helping Marvin up from his sprawled position in the sand dune. The magician pushed his hand away.        

“N-no. We can’t. Jackie is gone, Chase.”

“How do you know that?!” 

“Because,” Marvin removed his mask, running his hands from his face up into his hair to hide the tears gathering in his eyes. ‘I saw it myself. I had many visions while in my coma, one of them being of this mission. I knew it was doomed from the start, that’s why I warned against pursuing it. Anti has Jackie now, Chase. It’s a set part of the timeline.”                               

“What the hell do you mean, ‘set part of the timeline’?! Why didn’t you tell us anything about this?!” Chase was furious now, his hands clenched into fists as he paced the strait between Dr. Iplier and Marvin. 

“There's no way to change these visions. The only thing telling you would have accomplished is drawing things out even further. No matter what we would have done, Schneep would have been saved and Jackie would have been captured. I tried to fight the plan but in the end it was pointless, Jackie would have done it anyway. There is no stopping him once he has his mind set on something.”  

Marvin had managed to stand, reaching a hand out in an attempt to calm Chase down. It didn't work.

“So you're saying that Jackie was destined to die and there's absolutely nothing we can do about it?!” 

“I never said ‘die’, I said captured. The vision didn't show what happens after the portal collapses. There's still a chance to save him, but the one thing I know for sure is that the dimension they were in is gone. Anti took him somewhere else.”

Chase slumped down against the rocks, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair. 

“But how are we going to find him?”

“I don’t know.”

He had broken down now, trembling as he clutched the hat in his hands.

“Why? Why did it have to be us? What did we do to deserve this?!” 

“Chase-” 

“Do you hear me you bastards?!” 

Marvin limped over to him, kneeling to his level and grasping his shoulders. 

“They can't hear you, Chase.”

“Oh, they can fucking hear me, I know they can. They're always listening, watching this all happen. They gave the motherfucker his power in the first place and yet they can't even be bothered to take responsibility for what they've done.” 

Chase stood, pushing Marvin away, placing the hat back on his head and looking up towards the overcast sky. 

“You did this, do you hear me?! You did this!”

Marvin had given up trying to calm him down, at this point Chase was too far gone. Luckily Dr. Iplier interrupted them. 

“I need to take Henrik back to the clinic. His injuries are very severe, I need my equipment.” The doctor had stood, packing up his tools and gathering Schneeplestien into his arms. 

Chase cast a long, cold look back at Marvin, tears gathering in his eyes, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, before pulling the brim of his hat down over his eyes and stalking away towards the cliffside. 

-

         The journey back to the manor was completely silent, uncomfortable, tension seizing the air between them. Even as the doctor began examining Schneep to discern just what was wrong with him, they said nothing. Bing stopped by a few times to see how it went and to say hello, but he was promptly shooed away each time. There wasn't a word to be said that could cast away the cloud of grief over the clinic, even when Dr. Iplier would pop his head out to tell them that most, if not all of Schneep’s injuries could be fixed and that he would be completely fine, physically at least. 

Marvin tried to be happy, tried to tell himself that they had made a victory today, but seeing Chase’s empty eyes and knowing that he had opened the portal that sent Jackie to his doom made it impossible to look at the positives. 

He’d known. He’d known that Jackie would be captured if they let the mission go on, but he’d let him go anyway. 

I couldn’t have stopped it, he told himself, but it didn’t make him feel any better. 

Even Jameson, the gentlest of all of them, had grown cold. He'd take out the dagger Host had given him and turn it over in his hands, as if imagining all of the times he could have used it but didn't. 

Marvin knew Chase blamed him, even if the other wouldn't admit it. It was obvious every time they locked eyes. The magician could tell him over and over that there was nothing that could have been done to change it, but logical thinking was the farthest thing from either of their minds. 

It was best to let Chase be. 

It took the rest of that day and half of the next before Dr. Iplier stuck his head out of Schneep’s room again. He was horribly disheveled and looked like he hadn't slept since they’d gotten back- which, in all fairness he probably hadn't- but there was a triumphant air about him. After managing to weasel more time out of Dark and spending hours locked away in his operating room, the work was done. 

“I've done what surgery I could, and he’ll be alright. He had a couple dozen broken bones, ruptured vocal chords and several infections, as well as slight atrophy of the legs from not being able to walk for so long. It'll take extensive physical therapy but from what I can tell presently, he will live.” 

And for the first time since they'd gotten back to the manor, Chase smiled. It was a pained one, but one nevertheless. The tense atmosphere of the waiting room dissipated almost immediately as Marvin asked the million-dollar question.

“Can we see him?” 

The doctor’s face fell a bit.

“I wouldn't recommend it, at least not so soon. He's very mentally fragile, and seeing you all might...overexcite him.” 

And there it was. They knew they probably wouldn't be able to see him so soon, but after nine months it just seemed cruel to have them wait even longer. 

“But-” He stepped out from behind the door slightly. “I think he should at least be able to meet Jameson. One visitor shouldn't hurt him too much, and I think he'd like to see one of the people who saved his life.” 

Jameson perked up, shoving the knife back into his coat pocket. 

“Be careful though, he can’t speak very well yet. The last thing we want to do is strain him. Also, make sure to stay in his line of sight, he gets jittery when he can't clearly see who's in the room with him.” 

Jameson nodded, casting a look back at the others before following Dr. Iplier into Schneep's room. Chase looked clearly jealous of Jameson being able to see Henrik first, but he gave him an encouraging glance anyway. 

It looked like any other hospital room. White and pristine, with a soft floral pattern on the walls, a side table with a small cup of water and a vase of fake flowers, and the doctor, swallowed up in bed, face turned away and hands twitching where they laid in his lap. His doctor’s coat had been cleaned, patched, and draped over the side railing of the bed, and a new pair of glasses stood waiting on the side table near the water. It didn’t seem like he’d tried them on yet. 

“It’s Dr. Iplier again, Henrik. I’ve brought you a visitor.” the doctor announced, opening the door further to allow Jameson through.

Schneep looked up, eyeing the newcomer warily. His left arm was wrapped in a cast, as was one of his feet, the rest of the damage hidden under the pale blue hospital blanket. Jameson walked slowly, carefully, around the bed, taking a seat in the chair by his bedside.

“Hello, my name is Jameson, it’s very nice to meet you,” he signed, slowly as to give him time to read it. The doctor stared up at him quizzically, then it clicked in JJ’s mind. 

He doesn’t know sign, does he? 

Jameson wasn’t sure why he’d expected him to, he must’ve just gotten used to all of his brothers understanding him and hadn’t thought about the fact that even if Schneep did know sign before he was taken, such an ordeal would obviously leave him rusty. 

“Oh, uh,” Dr. Iplier reached into the pocket of his lab coat, procuring a small notepad and a pen before handing it over to him. “You can use this.”

Jameson accepted the notebook, opening it to the first blank page and writing down his message there. 

Schneep read it over a few times, before letting it drop onto his lap, looking Jameson over. He opened his mouth to answer but a seizing cough came out instead, his frail body shaking like a leaf in the wind. 

Dr.Iplier lunged forward, offering him water, which Schneep graciously accepted, clutching the glass and trying his hardest not to let the intense trembling of his hands spill the contents. 

He took one sip, then another, before placing the cup back on the nightstand and holding out his other hand for the notepad. 

“Are you one of us? Did they make another?” He scrawled out, barely legible.

“Yes.”

“You cannot speak?”

“No” 

“Me neither.” 

Jameson laughed a little at that, but his face fell again when Schneep picked the pen back up, hand shaking twice as much as it had before, each word scratched so deeply into the page he feared the paper might rip.

He held the notebook to his chest for a few seconds before reluctantly handing it over, as if afraid to know the answer. 

“Are the others okay?” 

A void opened up in Jameson’s chest. How do you tell an already traumatized man that his brother had taken his place? 

Schneep waited a few seconds, anxious at how long Jamie was taking to answer him. Dr. Iplier seemed to notice their dilemma, but was staying out of it, eyeing him uncomfortably from beside the door.  

Jameson began to write. 

-

Oh FUCKING boy was that hell to edit. My mouse kept glitching and wouldn’t let me set my place correctly and it just sucked ass but it’s HERE. I really hope this does well because holy shit. 

(Taglist)

@egopocalypse​ @shadowsinyoursoul​ @lower-your-expectationss​ @sammyg-98​ @weirdmixofweirdness​ @viostormcaller​ @save-jacksepticeye​ @ekhoecho​ @epicfangirl01​ @hollenka99 @spicydanhowell

I still don’t have my old general taglist, so just let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the future. I included people here who were looking out for this when I posted the original Absentia. I once again apologize for the long hiatus.