#prev same!! the second choice for me

[rainbowmilk]

Don’t Forget Me II

I was not planning on writing another part, but I couldn’t help myself

Warning: Language (?)

Treech x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

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After the mayor finishes his speech, it only takes seconds before Peacekeepers grab you. They rip you and Treech apart, ignoring your shouts of protest. Treech tries to reach for your hand again, but the Peacekeepers yank him back, nearly knocking him over.

The soldiers marched you to the train station towards an old cargo car locked with a heavy padlock. As you stood in front of the train car, you nearly gagged. The stench was overwhelming. The cart smelled rotted and thick with manure. You doubt they’d even bothered to clean it. You desperately didn’t want to get in, but you had no choice.

One of the Peacekeepers took out a set of keys to unlock the train, and the rest started shoving you in. Treech acted quickly, lugging himself in and stretching his arm out to help you up. But it must’ve taken too long because a peacekeeper grabbed you by the back of the neck and tossed you onto the train. You barely managed to catch yourself.

Treech rushed to your side, pulling you up off the ground. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” he questioned as he cupped your face, eyes scanning you for injuries.

“I’m fine, just tired of being treated like a sack of flour.” You chuckled bitterly while rubbing your neck.

District Seven was one of the last districts to get picked up, so you didn’t have to spend nearly as long on the train as other districts. A thought that filled you with relief when you felt something crawling near your feet. You could vaguely see the outlines of the other tributes. Though none of them made much noise. You could almost believe you were alone.

As the train chugged along, you and Treech shuffled over to an empty corner, trying to get comfortable. He grabs your hand and plays with it gently, his fingers interlocking with yours. Something about the action brings tears to your eyes. You never considered your hands pretty, filled with callouses from hours of demanding work, but by the way, he holds them, they might as well be made of porcelain.

When you first spoke to Treech, you’d quite literally fallen for him. Despite being in the same class, you’d never directly spoken. He was always surrounded by his friends, his laugh filling up the room (not that you were paying attention). You mostly kept to yourself. Honestly, you don’t know what made him approach you that day, but you’re so grateful he did.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“What are you doing?” a small voice exclaimed up at you.

You jumped at the sudden noise and slipped from the branch you were perched on. You weren’t very high up, but the impact left you gasping for breath.

As you lay on the ground, your vision was blurred, but you could make out a boy peering down at you. His eyes narrowed slightly in concern.

After you regained your bearings, you grumbled, “Well, before you interrupted me, I was drawing.”

“Oh…Sorry,” the boy chuckled awkwardly. He fidgeted slightly before asking, “Can I see your drawing? I’m Treech, by the way. We go to school together…In case you don’t know who I am.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, you knew who Treech was. You lived across from each other and were in the same class. You decided not to mention that, hoping to spare yourself the embarrassment of him not noticing.

“I know who you are, and no, you can’t see,” you respond before climbing back up the tree.

You were going to continue sketching until you noticed he was still standing there looking oddly dejected. A wave of guilt hits you when you realize you may have come off as rude.

“Hey, sorry... I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll show you when I’m done if you want to join me,” you say before patting the branch.

Treech perked up at that, beaming up at you. You decide he looks much nicer when smiling. He climbed up the tree, plopping himself next to you. Neither of you talked after that. You continued to sketch, and he sat with you, swinging his legs back and forth.

Soon enough, it became routine that whenever you went to the tree, he’d be there waiting for you. You started talking at school as well. Slowly, he became a constant presence in your life. Now, years later, you can confidently say he’s your best friend.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The sound of the whistleblowing snapped you back to the present. You must be arriving at a station. The train screeched as it came to a halt. From the outside, you could hear the chains rattling as they were unlocked. The doors slid open, and the District One tributes were staring back at you. In what felt like seconds, they were hastily thrown into the cart, and the door was locked once again.

The journey to the Capitol couldn’t have taken much longer, but it felt like an eternity in the damp train. Eventually, you heard the familiar whistle, and the train slowed to a stop. The tributes started shuffling, but the minutes passed, and nothing happened. At least another ten minutes must’ve passed before you heard banging against the doorframe. The door was wrenched open, and a peacekeeper shouted, “All right, you lot, let’s move!”

The sudden influx of light was nearly blinding. You had to take a moment to adjust. Treech is one step ahead of you, already jumping down before offering you his arms. You allow him to take you by the waist and swing you down to the pavement.

You were grateful for Treech’s quick reaction as you watched the Peacekeepers get rougher the longer it took the remaining tributes to crawl out. You take a moment to look around under different circumstances, you’d be gawking at the architecture, but that all feels insignificant now. While looking around, you see a boy dressed in red talking to one of the tributes. He looks too clean to be a tribute but too skinny to be a Peacekeeper.

You didn’t get much time to ponder who he was because Peacekeepers began herding you and the rest of the tributes across the station to the main entrance. Where a truck that looked more like a cage on wheels awaited you.

The tribute who is missing part of his arm, tried to make a run for it, but he didn’t even make a few feet before he was dragged back. You hopped onto the cramped van, and Treech immediately guided you into one of the last open seats before positioning himself next to you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of red jump moments before the doors closed. To your surprise, it was the boy from the train station. A thick tension settled over the truck as you all stared him down. He hunched over, realizing his precarious situation. You turned your head to meet Treech’s eyes. Both of you amused at the boy's obvious discomfort.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?” said the boy from District 11 Reaper, if you remember correctly. How ironic, you can’t help but think.

You missed what the Capitol boy said, but it must've been something insulting because, in the blink of an eye, Reaper’s hands encircled the boy's throat and slammed him back. Reaper’s forearms pinned the other boy’s body against the bars. Trying to keep himself from being killed, the Capitol boy drove his knee up hard into Reaper’s crotch. You wanted to laugh, but you doubt that would’ve been received well.

He might kill you now.” The girl from District 11 coughed out. “He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven. They never found out who did it.”

“Shut it, Dill,” the boy growled.

“Who cares now?” said the girl fro—Dill.

“Let’s all kill him,” said another voice, “Can’t do nothing worse to us.”

You wouldn’t consider yourself bloodthirsty, but a part of you agreed, besides the Capitol boy brought it on himself. Several other tributes also murmured in agreement and took a step in. The way the boy went rigid with fear almost made you pity him.

Before anyone could do anything, the rainbow girl spoke up. “Not to us, maybe. You got family back home? Someone they could punish there?”

With that, all the anger was sucked out of you, replaced with a gaping hopelessness. The girl then stood up and wriggled through to place herself between all of you and the Capitol boy.

“Besides,” she said, “he’s my mentor. Supposed to help me. I might need him.”

“How come you get a mender?” Snapped a girl with short red hair. Glaring daggers into the Capitol boy. You couldn’t help but agree. Why did she get extra help?

“Mentor. You each get one,” he corrected.

“Where are they, then?” The redhead challenged. “Why didn’t they come?”

“Just not inspired, I guess,” the rainbow girl replied before winking at her mentor.

You turned to Treech again and dramatically rolled your eyes. The small smile that graced his face filled your chest with warmth. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so good-looking. You hated that one smile was all it took to make butterflies swarm your stomach.

The conversation lulled, and silence filled the truck as it drove down the winding roads. Suddenly, the truck lurched to a stop, jerking all of you forward. At that moment you were grateful you had nothing in your stomach because you’d surely have thrown it up.

A Peacekeeper came and opened the back door to the truck, but before anyone could climb out, the cage tipped and dumped you onto a slab of cold, damp cement. Not a slab, actually more like a chute, it was tilted at such an extreme angle that all of you began to slide immediately. You all traveled a good twenty feet before landing in a jumbled heap on the floor.

You gingerly untangled from the others before making your way over to Treech. Cringing at the groans from the tributes you accidentally crawled on top of.

You brushed his hair back and readjusted his hat, “Treech,” you whispered, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, don't worry” he responded as he pulled you into his arms. You allow yourself to relax, nuzzling into his shoulder. Trying to calm down from the chaos of the day.

It isn’t until you hear a small giggle that you turn around and see two young girls pointing at the two of you. They watch you through metal bars, gawking. You pull away slightly, feeling oddly self-conscious. Treech seems to notice as well, looking equally uncomfortable.

Confused, you start to scan the area. Metal bars enclose you. To your left, there is a cluster of thin trees, and rocky sand lines the ground. Suddenly a nauseating realization hits you.

They’d put you in a fucking zoo.

[autisticlancemcclain]

prev

“Indeed,” Coran says, cutting a glance back at the rest of the gathered team. He meets eyes with Keith, then glances at the stubborn way Lance distances himself from the rest of them, and purses his lips. “We have some matters of our own to settle, I believe.”

———

The walk back to the Castle is silent, and endlessly, endlessly tense.

Lance expected it to be. Well, kind of. He didn’t expect it to be easy. He’s grateful, at least, that he was allowed to say goodbye to Corduroy, to bite back his tears and hold the great beast tightly. He’s grateful at least that the team gave him that kindness, before this strainedness, the discomfort, the side-eyes and significant looks.

Coran isn’t mad at him, which is better than nothing. Coran slung his arm around Lance’s shoulder the second they left to the castle, the way Lance does to Hunk when he’s anxious, and walks next to him merrily humming to himself.

“You did the right thing, child,” he whispers as they climb the steps, lagging behind everyone else. “Were there things you could have done more gracefully? Yes. But you made the best choice and worked with what you had. I’m proud of you.” He presses a kiss to Lance’s hair and squeezes his shoulders gently, allowing Lance a moment to shudder an exhale and compose himself, before letting go and walking off, knowing Lance can handle himself.

Lance straightens his spine. He can handle this.

Everyone stops just inside massive front hallway of the castle entrance. Lance considers just marching forward to whatever room he likes and making them follow him, but he doesn’t quite have that much confidence. As unlikely as it may be, some part of him hopes that no one is even going to bring up this whole…thing. He hopes Shiro is going to clap his hands and say ‘great job, team’, and they’re going to split off to unwind as they always do after missions.

But of course not.

“So are gonna head to the briefing room, or…?” Hunk asks, wringing his hands.

For whatever reason, the idea of locking himself in the briefing room to sit at a table and discuss the matter as they usually do makes him want to throw up. The idea of going anywhere, or waiting even one half second longer to talk about the situation makes him feel like he’s going to explode.

“You promised that we were a team,” Lance blurts. He’s not sure who he’s addressing, and he’s not facing anyone, eyes trained to a random spot on the wall, but the words bubble out of him, as warbled and hurt as he feels. “But you left me.”

Lance can feel his eyes begin to burn, and the humiliation of it makes him hunch, makes the surety of Coran’s earlier words fade to the back of his mind. He can feel the lump in his throat grow larger and larger, feel the unsteady pound of his heart, but he can’t bring himself to move, to look around the room, to meet eyes with his teammates. He forces them open and keeps his gaze locked on the wall, unblinking, terrified to let the water he feels building start to drop, because he can’t afford to look weaker than he already does.

“I try—” He can’t quite manage to choke down the tears, and his voice comes out weak from the failure of it, not quite raspy but reedy, almost. “I try so hard. I know that’s not enough, but —”

“It is.”

Lance looks over, startled at the same choked quality the words have to his own, and finds Hunk in a similar state, cheeks wet and eyes blurry. The rest of the team, upon further inspection, do not look angry with him but distraught, and it shocks Lance, truly, because he knows that they love him, obviously they do, but then why was he less important? Why was his position the wrong one to have? Why was he not consulted with the same seriousness as a random dignitary from a not-yet-allied planet, if not moreso?

“You guys don’t trust me enough to make real team decisions,” he whispers. “I’m not — I’m not smart enough for you.”

Every face looks stricken. Coran, even, looks at Lance wide eyes.

But it is Keith who makes a strangled noise, a sound caught in his throat, and says “No, Lance, that’s not —”

— and something in Lance, that has been bent since yesterday, cracks in two.

“I trusted you the most,” he chokes out. He doesn’t say the words so much as flings them in Keith’s direction, barbed and pointed. “You’re my — you said I was your right hand. You said you couldn’t lead without me. You said there’s no one else you trust more to have your back.” His face twists. His next words are near silent, but nonetheless ring through the hall. “You lied.”

Keith’s hand, extended halfway between them, remains frozen, unmoving, as still as he is. The only part of him that moves is his chest, rapidly swelling and flattening with his quick breaths. Lance’s breathing is just as quick, heartbeat only racketing with every inhale, but none of it is actually managing to carry any oxygen to his lungs, and his vision begins to blur, limbs start to feel heavy.

“I just want to be your equal,” he manages, before his legs begin to give out from under him and he stumbles to the floor, barely managing to catch himself in a sitting position. He sees Shiro twitch out of the corner of his eye, either a startled jump or a reflex to catch Lance does not know, but ultimately he doesn’t move; none of them do, frozen in their spots.

For a while Lance sits there. At one point he puts his head between his bent knees, breathing heavily, blinking the spots out of his eyes. It takes his lungs a long time to start working properly, for every inhale to actually bring in air, but even then it’s shuddering. All the strength and stubbornness, and maybe even adrenaline, that has kept him up through this mission has leaked out of him. He is too weak even to stand.

He feels when someone sits down heavily in front of him. The floor vibrates slightly with the force of it, tingling at his palms flat on the floor.

“You make me nervous,” Keith says quietly. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“That’s a stupid cliche.”

“You’re a stupid cliche.”

Lance’s head is still between his knees, but he can almost feel the intensity of Keith’s wince, the force at which he cringes in on himself. It unfortunately makes him smile.

“…Sorry. Reflex.”

It’s not okay, really. But he’s getting there.

“It’s okay. You’re still learning how to express your big boy feelings.”

Keith kicks him gently on the ankle, and this time Lance looks up, meeting his wry smile.

“I really am,” he says softly. He holds Lance’s gaze for a moment, then his expression shifts to something more troubled, eyebrows creased and mouth turned down, although his indigo eyes hold the same softness.

“You do things…I’ve never seen anyone do what you do. No one can come close. No one else can coo at a fear demon spider, no one else can befriend man-eating vines, no one else can scoop up a scorpion. No one else can tame a grizzly bear the size of a house. That’s all you, Bug Boy.”

Lance’s breath hitches. Keith’s use of the nickname is deliberate, evident in the slow and careful way he said it, and it is a risk. He knows the history behind the name, and Lance’s history in general. Further still he recognizes the precocity of the situation they’re in.

But for the first time since Lance learnt what that nickname really meant, since he learnt how most of his peers felt about him, the name doesn’t sting. In fact, something like pride blooms in his chest, if cautious and surrounded by doubt.

“Then why didn’t you let me try my way? Why were you — why was everybody — so dismissive?”

Keith shrugs. “Honestly? I was floundering. I was completely out of my element and I was stressed out and I just chose the easiest option.”

“The option that was the least fair to you,” Allura summarizes, taking a seat next to them. “And I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Hunk says. Pidge and Shiro quickly follow suit, earnest nods and leaky eyes, all coming to join Lance on the floor. On even footing. Coran’s hand comes to rest gently on his head.

“We will do better next time,” Shiro promises. “You have very distinctive strengths, Lance. I’ll be remiss to forget then again.”

“Ditto!” Pidge says, solemnly holding her hand up.

Lance considers making them squirm and really beg for it, but tears are actively streaming down his face, and also his mouth keeps trying to smile without his permission, so he decides to let it slide.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he threatens.

Keith grins at him. “Good, you Snow White-ass heart attack inducer.”

———

full fic

[phantoms-planet]

Barred Protection

Chapter Four

AO3 Here

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---

“What do you mean it’s happened again?” Percy Daelus heaved out a sigh. His assistant toed at the worn tile floor nervously. “Was it given too high of a dose?”

“No, it’s the same dose it gets every day.”

“And it’s stopped producing tears again?”

Carter nodded before pulling up the reports from the subject’s newest feeder. Daelus growled. He hated this one, she was so scared to get close that a few times the subject had gone unfed. As if a protection entity would just up and hurt someone. The thought made his eyes roll.

He read the report, all too similar to a handful of others, before getting to his feet. While it pained him to abandon his paperwork he knew he wouldn’t get any more if the subject couldn’t produce what they needed.

“Have the handlers enact Protocol Seven. I’ll deal with this.”

His assistant sped from the room instantly. Daelus stalked out of his office, growling at anyone who passed him in the halls who seemed ready to grab his attention. They could all wait.

A handler met him at the door. “Sir, he’s been lowered. Are you sure-?”

“I don’t pay you to question me, open the door.” He snarled.

“Yes, right of course, sorry sir.”

The door slid open and Daelus snapped his eyes to the floor. Subject P was curled in a tight ball staring blankly at the walls. Its chains were resting open beside it. As per the protocol the screens were shut off. Biting down another growl at the setback he knelt by the figure.

It barely responded when he scooped it into his lap. Gentle as possible, Daelus ran his fingers through the stark white hair. It moved on its own already. It were as if there was always a wind ruffling through the locks. Hypnotic, he always found it.

A small whimper drew his attention to Subject P’s freckled face. It was twisted in a grimace. “Shhh. It’s alright.” A part of Daelus wondered if the subject took the form of a young boy for a reason. The people he’d bought it from, loons called the GIW who insisted the entity was a ghost, hadn’t given any explanation for the choice.

“Hush now, everything will feel better soon.” There was never proof that this being even understood him. He still kept his tone low and soft. “People are getting better thanks to you. We just need you to cry again.”

Subject P writhed to get closer to him. Another whimper. “I’ll be here until you can produce them again. I’m here.”

Long after his legs fell asleep and his stomach started aching the entity choked out a sob. Daelus grinned. It always took hours to get Subject P back to a proper state but it was worth it. “Go on now, that’s it.” Pride surged as the one sob turned into two, then a whole string of them.

Quickly the handlers went to hanging Subject P back up so the tears could be collected. Daelus brushed himself off before leaving to get back to his paperwork.

On his way back to his office the feeder ran into him. Literally. Daelus silenced her apologies. “What are you running through my halls for?”

“I was…” She gulped as she glanced the way he had come.

“Ah, feeding it. Don’t.”

“What?”

Daelus sneered at her. “You’re inadequate for this. Its gone unfed far too many times under your hands. Return to your lodgings. I’ll decide what to do with you tomorrow.” The feeder looked deeply relieved at that order. Another growl threatened him.

The first feeder had been torn apart by P’s scream, healed of course but still unwilling to return, the second quit after claiming to have grown attached to the “boy”, and the third refused to work after being in the room with the screens on as he fed P.

Frankly Daelus wasn’t happy with needing to find another. It shouldn’t be so hard to shove food in its mouth and leave. A frustrated sigh slipped from his lips as he sat back down.

Maybe switching one of the handlers to a feeder would work?

He mulled over this idea as he sat back down at his desk. Unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to start on his paperwork again. A ringing came from his pocket.

Daelus sneered at his phone before breaking into a smile at the number. “Mr. Wayne!”

---

Clockwork was a mysterious man, even to other ghosts. He had much more power than many of them had and a domain that no others could escape. Many other ghosts felt justifiably wary when it came to the god.

Frostbite was very much not one of them. While Clockwork was fond of riddles and hands off guidance, the yeti could tell he wasn’t malicious. He didn’t always agree with the other ghost's methods but when it came to Danny he was willing to trust the process. Even if trusting the process made his skin all itchy at that moment.

“Are you certain this will end well for Phantom?”

Clockwork, a small child in appearance, merely gave a knowing smile.

With a sigh Frostbite turned to the mirror they had been observing the young godling through. He was physically very malnourished and there would certainly be a toll on his mental state.

It was painful watching the child choking out sobs. “The others are getting…impatient Clockwork. They want to know that he is somewhere safe.”

“I am aware.”

“How much longer-“

Clockwork shifted to an old man. The expression on his face changed from the almost smug knowingness to a worried scowl. “Admittedly they are taking longer to get to Danny than I predicted. Perhaps if I…”

“The Observants will not like what you are planning, will they?” The yeti was smiling despite the slight chiding in his tone.

“When do they ever?” A smile graced the other ghost’s face again. “There is nothing wrong with a little nudge; a lucky break. If they don’t like it they are welcome to try interfering with this time-stream themselves.”

Frostbite let out a hearty laugh. The god of time always got so much amusement out of pushing the buttons of the council. Frankly he couldn’t blame the guy. His brief joy was killed by the visual of Danny in the mirror.

“Are you certain we can’t-?”

“Yes.”

“But perhaps if-“

Clockwork set his hand on Frostbite’s shoulder. “No. The chance of one of us getting harmed and Danny snapping is far too high. He must be rescued by Her Knights. He needs to recover away from the chaos us ghosts bring for his own sanity. Everything is as it should be Frostbite; you must keep the others from changing this.”

The yeti nodded, resolve hardening at the certainty in Clockwork’s face. “I will assure the others and prepare a room for Phantom for when he is ready.”

“Good. He will need plenty of your help when he is more stable.”

[tangledinink]

Chapter Sixteen of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? Is up! The boys begin negotiations with Big Mama, to Yoshi's absolute horror... Read it in ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

Yoshi rounded on the guard he had been walking with like a wolf did to prey, his lips curled back in an absolutely furious snarl.

“What are they doing here?!”

“This isn’t my--”

“Let them out! Let them out this instant!!!”

“Sir, I don’t have the authority to--”

“I do not care about what authority you do or do not have,” he spat, leaning over the other, his shoulders squared and his face darkened with absolute fury. Every muscle in his body was visibly coiled and tight and quaking. “You listen to me very carefully. You have two choices. You can either open that door and let them out right now, or I will take the keys from you. Do you understand?”

His voice was so cold. Mikey’s eyes widened, and he thought to himself that if he didn’t know better, even he would be terrified of their father right now. He had never in his life seen him so angry. And he had dropped an open can of paint down the stairs before.

The yokai guard was smart enough, at least, to cower before their father, and rushed to unlock the door to their jail cell. The absolute second there were no longer bars in the way, Mikey threw himself at their dad, a sob working its way up his throat before he had even realized it had been in his chest to begin with. His Dad was doing the exact same thing, physically grabbing him to pull him into his embrace. The rest of the family was right behind them, all six of them colliding together.

“I knew we’d find you--!” Mikey gasped.

“What are you doing here!? What-- what happened?! My sons--!” Their dad stammered breathlessly, his voice waterlogged with tears, and it might have scared Mikey with how rarely he saw his father cry, but he was crying, too, and he was so fucking happy he didn’t have the time to be scared or upset or anything else at all.

“It’s-- it’s a long story!” He laughed, tears running down his face, only squeezing his dad tighter. This was the best hug he had ever had in his entire life. Raph just got moved down in the rankings, ‘cause nothing could ever be better than this. 

God, he had missed him so much. 

“I’m sorry,” their dad kept saying, holding them all as close as he possibly could. “I’m so sorry, my sons, I’m so, so sorry--”

“Yeah, Dad, we gotta have a talk after this… whole situation.” Leo laughed, and Mikey could hear just from his voice that he was crying, too. He was pretty sure they were all crying. Even Donnie. 

“How did you get here!? What-- what happened!?” He questioned again, pulling away just enough so that he could look at Mikey properly, holding his face, and there was this bewildered, searching element to his eyes that almost made Mikey pull back a little bit, glancing almost nervously to the side. Because. Well. Yeah.

They did look… different, didn’t they? Mikey doubted that their dad hadn’t known, but…

“Okay, so, you know that crazy sheep-looking dude who broke into our house…?” Leo snorted softly.

“What!?”

In the background, Mikey could hear the guard speaking on a walkie-talkie.

“Uhm, Big Mama? We have a… situation.”

“You tell her to get down here right now!” Yoshi snapped, whipping his head around so he could glare at the rather nervous-looking employee before immediately turning back to his sons, his anger giving way to concern once more. “How did you even get down here--? What are you doing here?” 

“Rescue mission. Obviously,” Donnie said. 

“Rescue? My sons, this is-- it is not that--“ 

“Uh, yes, ma’am, er, involving… Lou Jitsu? And those turtles we picked up a few days ago…” 

“Days?!” Their father howled as he turned on the guard again, his voice pitching even higher with absolute outrage. “You have kept my children here for days?! How dare you!!! Give me that walkie-talkie— GUMO!!! WE HAD A DEAL—“ 

“A deal?…” Leo echoed. 

“I don’t care if you are doing open heart-surgery! No! RIGHT NOW!!!”

Now that he had stepped away, no longer crowded in amongst the rest of the Hamatos, all the brilliantly colored bruises and lacerations painted along his father’s body were easily apparent. Mikey’s heart crumpled a little. “Dad…?” 

“Ah-- it is alright, Mikey.” His father’s voice softened once more. “I will get you boys home. And fix your bracelets…! Do not worry, we will fix this…”

“… And you’ll come home too, right?” 

There was a beat of hesitation that opened up a pit of dread in his stomach. 

“Dad?” 

His father opened his mouth to speak, but before anything could be said, a bright flash of magick which Mikey could, at this point, pin as a teleportation circle, bathed them all in light.

Mikey was not so proud that he couldn’t admit that he had screamed and hid behind his father when a hulking spider had leapt out, near shaking the ground as she landed, though with surprising grace, looking down at the group through a gaggle of brilliant red eyes. His siblings might not want to say so, but they all screamed and jumped, too. Their father didn’t. He held firm, glaring at the creature, planted stubbornly between the two parties.

“Hm,” the creature hummed, seeming almost thoughtful as they tilted their head to the side, and Mikey had not been expecting this to be what their voice sounded like at all. “Well, this is a bit of a prickly-snitch, isn’t it?”

“Oh!” Dad absolutely bristled, and Mikey swore he could hear his teeth grinding. “Do not give me that! What is the meaning of this?! We had a deal! You gave your word! You gave your word that you would leave my family be!”

“And I have!” She immediately defended, huffing loudly, as though insulted, placing a hand over her chest. 

“You clearly have not!” He scoffed. “What are they doing here!?”

“Well you would have to ask them,” she insisted, giving a wave of one of her claws. “Because I can assure you that I did not bring your little turtleyboo’s here, dearheart, they showed up entirely of their own accord. I can’t be held responsible for that!”

Their father spluttered for a moment, glancing between the spider and the family, not seeming sure who he wanted to yell at for a second there. Mikey winced slightly, moving just a teensy bit closer to his siblings. Yeah, this had not exactly been the reaction they were expecting…

“I hardly think that matters!” He finally landed on the spider. “You’ve had them here for days!? Days!? Locked in your dungeon!? That is not ‘leaving them in peace!’ I don’t care how they got here-- you should have brought them back home! Why are you keeping them here!?”

“Well, obviously, I was doing the responsible thing and checking with my legal team to see what options I might have…” 

“EXCUSE ME?!”

“Oh, they’re fine! I didn’t even hurt them.”

“Didn’t hurt them?” April scoffed under her breath. “I think Donnie’s concussion and fucked up shoulders would beg to differ…”

“His what!? Are you injured, my son? Let me see!”

“Dad, stop it, I’m fine--!”

“My employees were merely defending themselves!” The yokai protested. “The little turtleyboos are the ones who broke into my place of business and attacked my poor Nexus attendants! That could hardly be considered my fault.”

“Couldn’t it?!”

“Oh, come now, huggypoo. Don’t be a noodge about it. I’m sure we can work this all out and everyone can walk away hotsy-totsy…”

“Huggypoo?” Donnie muttered. “Uhm, ew.”

“Don’t you try to sweep this under the rug!” Dad spat. “They are down here, being held in your dungeon, none of your crystals are working, and they were attacked by Baron Draxum, who you told me you would keep them safe from--!”

“Excuse me, are you trying to imply that my magicks aren’t adequate?” She hissed in response, suddenly bristling, leaning in closer to glare at their father. He stood his ground, but Mikey shrunk back, paling slightly. He could see his own reflection in her eyes. Jagged teeth flashed from between the sharp bends of her long, pointed jaw. “My enchantment is foolproof. Draxxy can’t lay a hand on them.”

Leo’s eyes lit up a bit. 

“Is that why he passed out when I grabbed him?!”

“That would be exact-ively why!” She gestured to their father as if to be like, see? I told you. “If my magick isn’t up to your expectations, I can always take it back… If you’re backing out…”

Their father grit his teeth. “I did not say that.”

“Wait, you cast spells on us?!” Raph spluttered slightly, looking down at himself, as if expecting to see something crawling on him, or spy some witchy sigil etched into his plastron.

“Oh, I’ve cast many spells on you, little turtles,” she laughed, and the way she smiled made Mikey shiver. “One might even say you lot owe me one…”

“They owe you nothing,” their dad growled, taking a step forward, physically forcing her away from him and his siblings. The shadow she had been casting over them retreated slightly. “You! You must fix this! They should be safe! Back at home! I have kept my end of the bargain--”

“Pops, we came to get you,” Raph protested, reaching out to touch their father’s shoulder. 

“We’re not leaving without you!” Mikey insisted. 

“Yeah! I don’t care if we do have to fight a giant spider, we’re getting you back home!” April added in.

“It’s not that simple,” Dad said.

“Why not?” Donnie pressed. 

“I’m sorry, it is… it is complicated--”

“No!” Leo snapped, elbowing his way to the front of the group to face their dad properly. “No more ‘it’s complicated!’ I don’t wanna hear ‘it’s complicated,’ that’s not an okay answer anymore, Dad! We’ve been patient. We’ve let you keep your secrets, let you have your boundaries, we’ve let you not answer any of our questions about literally anything about you… But we’re in a fucking bloodsport stadium! And we’re reptiles!” He threw up his hands. “You can’t just tell us it’s complicated. We already know it’s complicated! Dad, you have to tell us what’s going on! Are you a reptile, too?!”

He grabbed their dad’s arm, and the bracelet circling his wrist caught the light as it moved.

“What even are you?!”

Their father’s shoulders slumped. Mikey thought to himself that he looked so tired.

“I am sorry,” he repeated. “I will… I will explain everything to you boys, I swear, but… I cannot leave. I made a deal.”

Leonardo threw down his father’s hand, bristling as he went. He turned his sights on the spider.

“A deal?” He echoed, a note of bitter laughter in his voice. “What? With her?”

“Blue, please--”

“Fine then,” Leo took a step forward, pivoting his body so that he was facing the eight-legged yokai properly, his chin tilted up so that he could meet her gaze.

“I wanna make a deal, too.”

---

“Leonardo! No! Absolutely not!”

Leo blocked him out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So, what? The deal was he’d stay here and fight, and you’d leave us alone, get us cloaking crystals, and keep Draxum off our back? Do I have that all right?” Leo quipped, raising a brow before tsking very slightly. “I dunno, I think our Daddy’s got a point. It doesn’t really seem like you’ve kept up your end. But…”

“Leo. Listen to me. Do not speak with her about this--”

“I think we could pencil up some new terms to smooth it all out, and everyone can leave happy, just like you said. Right?” Leo continued, hands on his hips. “I mean, obviously we have to get something figured out here, given the current state of things. Probably wouldn’t be too good for your rep otherwise, right? Really, this could benefit all of us!”

Please let these be the right things to say. He had no idea what he was doing. He was flying completely blind-- he didn’t know a thing about this woman or what her motives were, he didn’t even know any details about the original deal to begin with. 

But he was not leaving without his entire family.

“Leonardo!” His father hissed in his ear, grabbing his arm and yanking him slightly. “Stop! You do not know her like I do-- no one ever comes out on top when they make deals with her!”

Leo wretched himself from his father’s grip. “I don’t know her like you do?! Great, well, then, enlighten me! Who is this!? And how do you know her?!”

There was visible hesitation from his dad, who turned bright red as he looked to the side.

“She… is my ex.”

Oh. You know, maybe some secrets were actually okay.

Mikey gasped shrilly, pointing a finger. “That’s the hotel lady!?”

“The Grand Nexus Hotel is run by a spider!?” April cried.

“You dated a spider?!” Leo wailed, leaning over to shake his father by the shoulders.

“Look, now do you understand why I say ‘it’s complicated’ all the time?!” He snapped in reply, huffing loudly as he batted Leo’s hands off of him.

“Okay, okay, whatever. So not the point,” Leo sighed, scowling a bit. “Look, the point is, I’m willing to make a new deal with you, spider lady! So let’s talk.”

“Please,” she said. “You can call me Big Mama.”

“... Yeah, there’s no way I’m calling you that. For, like, sooo many reasons…”

She sighed thoughtfully, tilting her head ever-so-slightly to the side. Leo usually considered himself a pretty good read; he had always been adept at picking up on body language, on little hints and cues, at translating people’s expressions, but… he was used to doing that with, you know, people. Not giant arachnids. 

“We can talk,” she finally said, her eyes narrowed into slits. “What would you propose?”

“Blue, please,” his father hissed. “This is too dangerous! Let me handle this!”

Leo didn’t even look at him.

“We’re taking our dad back home,” he said. “You didn’t keep your end of the deal, so he doesn’t have to keep his. You’ve had him for, what, two weeks now? Quite frankly, that’s an extended run for a performance…”

She laughed at him.

“I don’t think you understand the value that your father brings,” her grin was eerie. All teeth. She reached past them to snatch their father up in one of her claws, dragging him to her, and Leo had to resist the urge to reach out and snatch him right back, bristling. She near draped herself across their dad as he scowled. But he didn’t pull away. “My little cuddlekins is the most fantabulous champion my Nexus has ever seen. He’s undefeated, you know! The Hidden City just adores him,” she sighed happily, tapping the tip of his nose as he growled. 

“Do you have any idea how many tickets he sells in a day?”

What, was this about money? Or was it about their dad? Both, he thought dimly to himself. She wants both. 

“Well, if it’s entertainment you want,” he said, taking care to keep his tone as cool and casual as he possibly could. “I’m sure we could come up with some big hurrah to keep the people talking.”

“Oh?”

“You know what’s even cooler than Lou Jitsu? The son of Lou Jitsu. Seen here for the first time ever, exclusive Battle Nexus content! Come on, people eat that kind of stuff up!” He laughed, throwing out his hands to gesture to himself with exaggerated pride. 

“Absolutely not!” His dad spat-- and now he was trying to pull away, but Big Mama didn’t let him, holding fast.

“My undefeated champion in exchange for one performance with an imitation isn’t exactly much of a ballyhoo, dearheart. I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more impressive than that,” she tsked.

Leo froze up for a minute. He knew that wasn’t good enough. He had known it wasn’t going to be good enough as soon as offered it, even before he offered it, but what else did they have?--

Swallowing a brief wave of panic, he glanced, just barely, back at his siblings behind him.

Four pairs of equally determined faces started back. And all their eyes said, ‘whatever it takes.’ Leo’s resolve instantly renewed itself, and his heart rate settled ever-so-slightly. He wasn’t going to let his family down. He could do this.

He could do this.

“Okay. Fine. What about four sons of Lou Jitsu? Plus an added-bonus daughter,” he challenged. “And you can forget about everything else. The cloaking crystals, the protection spells, whatever. Take it back,” he said, narrowing his eyes and setting his jaw. “Put us in your Battle Nexus. Do whatever you want. We’ll make a day of it! We’ll make you your money. And then at the end, we all get to go home.”

Her grin was getting wider.

“Well, that’s a bit better,” she hummed. “But not very exciting, is it? Let’s see here…”

Oh, so is that what this was to her?

A game.

“We can play for keepsies. What about that?” She said, abandoning their father and instead beginning to pace-- stalking slowly around the Hamato children, her eight legs tapping gently against the stone floor. “If you win, you can take your father, keep all your little boobles and trinkets and enchantments-- they don’t matter to me. You can la-di-dah off into the sunset,” she hummed.

“... But when I win. All of you will stay here. Deal?”

Leo didn’t have to look back at his siblings this time.

“Deal.”

---

“Please! Please! Plleeeasseee can we go up! We were good! I promise to be good next week, too! Super good!” Leo begged, holding his hands up like a prayer to plead with their swim instructor-- all but clinging to their legs.

“Just once! Pretty please?” Raph added, moving to echo Leo’s pose in support.

Jon sighed deeply, exaggeratedly, crouching down to join them at their level, his arms crossed over his knees.

“I dunno… it’s pretty high. Are you sure you want to?”

“Yes! Please!” Leo insisted.

“We can do it!”

“And you’re sure you’ll be good next week?”

“We will! Right, Donnie?”

Donnie wasn’t really participating in the desperate cajoling the way his brothers were, but he offered a little nod anyway. 

“See!”

“Okay. Okay. Fine. You can each jump once, okay?”

“YES!” Leo shrieked in delight.

“But if you go up the ladder, you have to jump, okay? There’s no coming back down. Once you’re up, you gotta jump off. Understand?”

Raph seemed a little bit less sure about that. “How come?”

“Going backwards down the ladder of the high-dive while soaking wet isn’t the safest thing, kiddo.” Jon explained, reaching over to ruffle Raph’s hair a bit. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you go up, you can’t go back down. You’ve gotta jump. So be sure you wanna jump before you go up.”

Raph, who had, seconds ago, been endlessly enthusiastic, suddenly seemed a bit nervous. He glanced over at Leo, frowning. “Leo, it’s really high…”

“Yeah, that’s what makes it awesome!” He enthused. “Don’t worry! It’ll be fun! Diving is super cool!” He insisted.

“But what if you get up and you don’t wanna anymore?”

“I will,” Leo insisted. “Here, I’ll go first. You stay here and watch with Donnie so he doesn’t get scared.”

Donnie looked up, seemingly annoyed, giving Leo an ‘excuse me? I’m not scared,’ kind of look, but luckily didn’t say anything and blow Leo’s cover. It’s for Raph, not you, doofus.

“Be careful, Leo,” Raph said, grabbing onto Donnie’s hand, who, to his credit, only wriggled a little, pulling a face but not pulling away. The pair watched as Leo began to scramble up the ladder to the long-desired, long-admired five-meter diving platform.

The higher he went, rung over rung, the more excited he got, practically wriggling as he climbed up to the top, pulling himself up to his feet. And his eyes widened, his mouth gaping in a shocked little ‘o.’

He was up so high.

Leo had never been up so tall before. Not like this! He had been up in some pretty big buildings with his family, but that was so different from this; standing up here on this platform, looking down at the water below, no walls or windows separating him and the rest of the world. His brothers looked tiny, almost, and as he crept forward to the edge of the platform, for just a second, he felt it. Belated, slower than his brother did, but he felt it.

Fear.

For a second there, he wasn’t so sure about this. It was… really, really high, and the water was really, really far below, and he was gonna have to jump. And fall. He realized, distantly, that he had never fallen so far before, and for just a second, he frowned, drawing his arms nervously around himself and shuffling his feet a bit. 

Movement caught the corner of his eye. 

Leo looked over, across the pool, way to the far edge by the doors to the locker rooms, and there was their dad. He didn’t stay and watch lessons anymore, but he always came to pick them up when lessons were over, waiting for them with towels by the locker rooms before herding them off to get changed and head back home for dinner. He was there already, swim bag in hands, ready for them to be released from their class, and he was waving at him.

Once Leo was looking at him, Dad smiled, and he gave him two thumbs up. 

That was all. Just a smile and two thumbs. But it was plenty. It was more than enough, and Leo wriggled a bit with renewed excitement, all the fear draining out of him and puddling down at his feet, because things just got even better. He didn’t just get to go off the high-dive. 

He got to go off the high-dive and his dad was gonna watch.

“COWABUNGA!” He shrieked, leaping off the platform without another ounce of hesitation, his legs tucked up to his chest and his arms flailing wildly as he plummeted downward. All his organs, seemingly, didn’t get the memo that they were heading down to the water now, because Leo swore that they were yanked up through his chest by gravity, his stomach ending up in his throat and his heart ending up at the top of his head as he fell. 

He had just enough time for another short, pitched little shriek before he hit the water, a massive splash frilling up around him like a fan, droplets flying in each direction. Gravity stopped, and just for a second, Leo floated there in the middle of the pool, ever so slightly dazed-- suddenly still and suspended in place after his rapid descent. He lingered there for a moment, watching all the tiny bubbles rise up to the surface around him before he followed suit. 

His head popped up, and as soon as Leo had grabbed a breath of air, he laughed loudly, his arms and legs doggy-paddling wildly as he began to head back towards the edge of the pool.

“THAT WAS AWESOME!” He cried. “Raph! That was so cool! You gotta go next! DAD! Dad, did you see me!? Did you see me jump!?”

---

He had been left here.

Left here in the Luxury Box like some misbehaving child, left in time-out while the parents discussed. Left here alone to question and panic. Yoshi paced furiously through the space, swearing softly to himself as his mind raced. Six times now, he had tried to convince the guards posted by the door to let him out, to bring him to Big Mama, to bring her to him, anything, and had been denied each time, despite his threats. He considered the logistics of jumping over the balcony, (which he had done before, but it had gone poorly and he was a whole lot younger back then.) He was just weighing the pros-and-cons of making good on his previous threats and breaking out, going and finding Big Mama and his children by force, when the doors opened.

She was in her human form, and looked perfectly casual, calm, and collected as she entered the box. As though she wasn’t aware of what she had done. As if she didn’t know what she was doing. Yoshi bristled, clenching his jaw as he stormed over.

“You cannot do this,” he hissed through grit teeth.

“Oh, but cuddlemuffin, I’m afraid the terms have already been agreed upon. I can’t just go back on my deal, now can I?” She tsked, walking right past him to head over to the couch, sitting down primly and crossing her legs. Yoshi chased after her, resisting the carnal urge to pick her up and throw her out of the Luxury Box. 

(It wouldn’t even work, anyway.)

“Why not?!” He spat. “I see no reason why you cannot back out! Nothing has even happened yet-- just send them back home! There is no need for this.” 

She sighed deeply, frowning as she turned to face him.

“Darling, I thought you’d be pleased,” she protested.

Yoshi’s face flushed bright red.

“Pleased?! Pleased?! Why would I be pleased with this!?”

“Well, I always thought you were quite fond of those little turleyboos--”

“They are my sons! Of course I am!”

“And that you missed them! So this way, you’ll get to be here together. Isn’t that better?”

“No! No, it is not better!”

“Oh, but huggypoo, this will be good. You’ll get to see them all the time this way! You lot can all have your little row-de-rows in my Nexus together, you’ll get to be around them all the time, and you’ll still get to be my fantabulous champion,” she said with a smile. “And don’t fib and pretend like you don’t like getting to be famous for me. They’ll like it too! I’m sure,” she insisted with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Everyone wins! Don’t you think?”

“You don’t believe that,” Yoshi whispered. “I know you don’t.”

She hummed, shrugged with a small smile, and turned away, picking up her teacup from the coffee table to take a sip.

“Please. I will stay with you. Just let them go. Don’t do this. You wouldn’t agree to this if you believed they would win. They are going to get hurt--”

“You’ll stay with me either way, Noodles,” she said, not even looking at him.

“If you do this,” he breathed, his voice weighed down with anger, with heat, with grief and with desperation. “I will never forgive you. I swear. If you go through with this, I will never forgive you for it, Gumo.”

She paused, turning just enough to give him a long look. It was almost soft-- as though she were sympathetic. And she tsked.

“Well, it’s not the first time I’ve heard that, now is it?”

---

If Leo was being totally honest with himself, this was exhausting. It was taxing and nerve-wracking, and every single time he opened up his mouth and spoke, he wondered if this was the time he was going to fuck it up and say the wrong thing and watch it all come crashing down around them. 

He was the actor, like their dad, having begged him from the age of seven to let him do movies like he did. He had eventually bargained his way from local theater all the way up to supporting roles in a couple of films, taking immense pride in any play, commercial, TV show, or movie that had his name in the credits. He was that loud, funny kid in class who always had a quip or remark and who distracted the teacher so they didn’t have to do actual work. He was the best liar in his family, and had always been the one who would talk them out of situations when they found themselves in the middle of a mess-- like that time their basketball ended up in that construction site and they had to retrieve it. Or that time they tunneled under their elementary school. 

But this? This was a beast of a different color. They had never had stakes higher than ‘detention’ before. Not like this. 

“Okay, so, if we’re gonna make this work,” Leo had said, terrified out of his mind at being trapped in a room with a literal giant spider but pretending otherwise, draped casually in a red velvet chair across from her desk. “Obviously we’re going to need to put some PR into it, right? And if we’re gonna be pushing the ‘sons of Lou Jitsu’ angle, then we need to do something about--” he gestured to himself. “This whole situation. Otherwise, no one’s gonna buy it. So obviously we’re gonna have to fix these little doohickies,” he kind of flipped his wrist back and forth a few times, “And maybe give it, like, a day, maybe two? To get the word out there.” That should be enough time for Donnie to bounce back… The bruising and swelling had already gone down quite a bit, but he was still worried about his head. He’d like to give him a lot longer to recover from a concussion before sending him into a, like, legit deathmatch, but… “Which also means we have some time to work out some other little details, right? Like. Weapons, no weapons?... We can maybe take a look at both options, I dunno, do some mock-ups for the campaign posters and all that…”

She had listened, shockingly enough. Leo found that often, when he talked for too long, people would eventually stop listening. It was a common trait in his family. But she was listening, and, even better, seemed to actually be considering what he was saying, and Leo clung to that thread of hope desperately. 

“My Lou Jitsu always fights without weapons,” she remarked, and Leo felt his stomach flip-flop for a second.

“Yeah, I mean. There’s definitely merit to that. But we’re trying to raise the stakes, right? Big blow-out type deal? So, you know, add some pointy things to the mix, and that usually pumps people up. Plus… merch opportunity!” He had added, stretching his lips wide over his teeth in the imitation of a grin, making sure to crinkle the corners of his eyes as well, because he’s not an amateur. “Your guy can have your weapons, too! I mean, fair’s fair…”

She had smiled widely.

“My ‘guy’ doesn’t need any weapons.”

Leo’s heart had stuttered, just for a second, and a shiver skittered its way up his spine, but he kept himself still and kept his expression steady. “I mean, if you don’t like it, we don’t have to do it for the actual shebang! I’m just saying. Like. You know. Let’s explore all the marketing options, right?”

She had seemed almost amused by him at the time, but had agreed, saying that they could ‘take a look,’ and, after some further careful, calculated coaxing, had even agreed to let Leo into whatever armory or trophy room or vault their weapons were being held in to fetch them, though only after Leo had pitched the hell out of their own weapons providing ‘the best possible performance,’ and feigned an inability to describe their weapons well enough for any employee to fetch it for them. 

Quite frankly, he was pretty much sure that the only reason he was able to get away with any of this was because she didn’t see him as a threat. She wasn’t stupid, by any means, Leo already knew, and he wasn’t completely fooling her. But she was already sure that she would win, and she thought that he was funny, or so it seemed, so she was willing to go along with his act and laugh at him as they went. That was fine. Leo would do whatever worked.

And now he was here. Just him, a giant spider woman, five armed guards, and about half a million mystic artifacts filling up a tightly locked, hidden room, where no one would ever find his body.

No problem.

“Jeez, do you just, like, throw things in here?” He mumbled, taking big, long strides as he wandered through the space, picking over and through all the various amulets and enchanted swords and cursed statuettes-- lingering over each one, just for a moment, leaning over to examine them before moving along to the next thing. “Have you ever considered investing in a label maker?--”

“We’re not here for a tour, foozle,” she had remarked primly, narrowing her eyes in such a way that made Leo inwardly sweat a bit. He was toeing the line-- he had been toeing the line for a while now and he knew it, and he picked up the pace, even as he continued to roam, wandering a wide lap around the vault.

“Do you have, like, a magic weapon shelf, or…?”

“Tick tock. Find your things, or you’ll leave without anything, dear.”

“Oh, here they are!” He exclaimed, pointing at the previously confiscated odachi. “This would be April’s, and the lame stick is Donnie’s…”

He knew better than to grab for any of them. That’s how you get in trouble. April’s dad taught him better than that. The guards collected them in his stead once he had pointed them out.

“There we go,” she said, making her way back to the exit. “Now, then, I’ll just take that little booble from you.”

Leo froze.

“Take what?”

“Well, foozle, you did want me to patch up those little trinkley-dinks you have on your wrists, didn’t you?” She hummed.

Oh.

Right.

He did say that.

He supposed he just hadn’t realized he’d have to… take it off. For the first time, he stumbled, hesitating ever-so-slightly.

“I. Uh. I’m not sure if I… can…” he said, pulling experimentally at the bracelet curled around his wrist. The bracelet that had been there the past ten years of his life. The bracelet that had always clearly, at least in his mind, marked him as a Hamato. The bracelet that ‘kept him safe.’ 

The bracelet that he had never, not once in his life, ever taken off.

“Oh, of course you can. You just have to want to take it off. It’s a simple little trickey-trick. Just think about it when you do it, and it’ll slide right off, no trouble to it. You do want me to fix them, don’t you?”

“... Yeah.”

“Then take it off.”

Leo paused, just for a moment. This was silly, wasn’t it? He knew now what it did, what its purpose was, why they didn’t take it off… And it really wasn’t doing anything right now, as clearly evidenced by his scaly green skin and the cinnamon red crescent moons streaking across his face. 

But still…

He swallowed hard. And he removed the bracelet.

It was easy, just like she said. It slipped right off his wrist without any real trouble once he made the conscious, definitive decision to do so. 

Nothing in the world changed. He didn’t change. Nothing terrible happened-- there were no screams, no meteor strikes, no alien invasions. His body felt just the same as before.

He handed it over.

“Now then, give me a few hours with it, and it’ll be good as new. I’ll collect your brothers’ as well, and I’ll get all this higgeldy-piggeldy all sorted for you little turtleyboos,” she assured, all but herding Leo out of the vault, back out into her office. Leo felt a bit dazed.

“Right… Thanks.” 

“Now, then. You can take him back to his room. Your trinket will be delivered later this evening. Toddle off now,” she waved them dismissively, and two of the guards fell into step beside him, beginning to guide him from the office. Leo struggled to keep his steps even, suddenly feeling a bit unsteady.

His wrist felt… empty.

Though his siblings and he were no longer being kept in a dungeon, it would be foolish to believe that the hotel rooms they had been put up in were anything aside from nicer prisons. At least they had beds now, but it was pretty clear that they were not to leave the rooms without explicit permission, so he had, in exchange, lost any direct contact with his family, each of them sequestered away on their own. 

I can’t believe I’m missing a jail cell, he thought to himself with a roll of his eyes as he was ushered into the room, the door slammed shut behind him. The attitude was so not necessary. 

But that had gone better than he thought it would.

He hurried to his bed, doing a quick visual sweep of the room, just in case, making absolute certain there were no prying eyes before he sat down, unzipping his hoodie just enough so that he could shake a fuzzy yellow yokai out of it. The creature tumbled from where it had been hiding near the largest curve of his shell, tucked away beneath the folds of his sweatshirt’s hood, helpfully concealing the critter.

“Jesus, dude! We have got to trim your nails,” Leo hissed, reaching to rub the back of his neck and give them a look. Mayhem blinked up at him, chittering in response and waving his tail. Leo just sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Please tell me you saw something helpful in there,” he begged.

To his absolute relief, the creature puffed itself out, giving a definitive nod of its head, and Leo felt a huge weight tumble from his shoulders. “Oh thank god,” he huffed, flopping back down across the bed, resting his hands on his face for a second. This had been such a fucking shot in the dark! The entire plan was ‘investigate as much as possible and pray that I either figure it out or Mayhem knows something.’ After taking a moment to compose himself, breathing in deep, he came back out from the cover of his hands, glancing over at Mayhem again as they hopped up to their paws and promptly disappeared in a twinkle of blue. 

He reminded himself to treat April to a pizza or something one of these days for finding this little guy. 

Scooting back up into a sitting position, he grabbed the little “Grand Nexus Hotel” branded notepad and matching pen from the nightstand, scribbling out a quick message. 

“Might have something. Don’t worry. Fixing the bracelets. See you all soon.”

He didn’t dare put too much information down in writing, should their Mayhem-sponsored-Pony-Express style of communication be intercepted. But at least he could tell them something. He’d ask Mayhem to pass it around to his siblings once he was able. He knew that blipping around too much tired him out. 

But jesus, is it useful, he thought to himself as Mayhem came warping back into the room, hopping gracefully back down onto the bed and scampering over, proudly dropping something into Leo’s hand-- like a dog fetching a tennis ball, wagging tail and everything.

“This is it?” He questioned, raising a brow, and Mayhem nodded, gesturing a few times. Leo sighed and shrugged. Well, it wasn’t like he had any room to doubt them anyway, and so he pocketed the item, reaching over to pet the yokai’s head, scratching at his ears. 

“Nice job, buddy,” he muttered, getting a happy little trill from Mayhem in reply. Leo couldn’t help but smile. “We’d be so screwed without you.”

He frowned a bit, chewing the corners of his lips for a moment.

“You make it look so easy…”

There was a moment of silence, the only sound in the room being Mayhem’s happy little chirps and barks. Leo pet them for a bit longer, before finally, he pulled away, shifting back so that he could sit up properly-- legs crossed, hands rested on his knees, back straight.

Mayhem whined slightly, pawing at Leo’s leg, and he chuckled softly.

“Sorry, bud,” he hummed softly, letting out a long, slow breath. “I’ve got a lot of practice to get through.”

Okay.

Let’s move.

---

His skin was chocolate brown. It was relatively smooth and relatively untextured, save for the occasional blemish or spot (thanks, puberty,) and polka-dotted all over with freckles. The fact that he had hair at all was noteworthy-- twisted into ombre locs, they shifted from a rich, inky black at the roots to a pale orangey-hue at the ends, tipped with colorful beads. His fingers were just as dexterous and capable as he remembered them-- and there were five of them on each hand. 

It had felt so achingly odd to be without his bracelet. But now that it was back on his wrist, Mikey noted that he really didn’t feel much at ease at all. 

Things still felt… off.

He examined his face in the mirror, pinching his cheeks, pulling back his lips to inspect his teeth, leaning in close to peer at his own eyes in the reflection. He tugged at his ears, spinning the little star earrings that he had miraculously maintained throughout everything a few times. He pulled off his shirt so he could look at his back-- watching how the muscles shifted beneath the skin, reaching back so he could run his fingers along the knobs of his own spine, plain and clear to see.

This was his body. This was the body he had always had, or so he had thought. The body that he had grown up in. He looked at himself, and it was familiar. He looked at himself and thought, hey, that’s me!

So why did everything feel so alien? 

He ran through the same routine again, breaking down his entire self from head-to-toe, and didn’t feel any better by the end of it. He did it for a third time, and fourth time, and a fifth, but still, the feeling persisted. Mikey scowled deeply, chewing on the insides of his own cheek.

Why did he feel like he was being tricked when he saw himself now?

Everything looked real. It all felt real. His shoulders, his feet, his fingers, they all seemed perfectly natural and normal and genuine to him, but now he knew that none of it was, and it made something inside his stomach twitch just the tiniest bit with an emotion that he couldn’t quite name. What? Anger? Anxiety? Confusion? This, too, he re-visited over and over, but couldn’t resolve. And he hated it. Not just the feeling itself, but just--

Just not knowing. Not understanding. It just made it worse, not being able to identify it while it was taking over, completely encompassing him, soaking every bit of his body like gasoline, and he didn’t know what the feeling was but he just-- he just-- felt--

A thin ribbon of smoke caught the corner of his eye.

Mikey yelped, his hand immediately ripping itself away from the dresser he had been leaning against, revealing a scorched handprint underneath, and went reeling backwards. He didn’t stop until his back hit a wall, and he nearly fell over, his heart hammering a tempo prestissimo in his ears.

Not again. Not again. Not again. Mikey whined loudly, balling his hands up into fists and drawing himself in, as if to hide, to tuck in close and make himself small. Tears began beading up along his eyes like pearls, immediately ready to answer this call to action and throw themselves over onto the frontlines, and Mikey swallowed back a sob. This couldn’t keep happening. He couldn’t keep letting himself lose control.

He was the one who started this whole thing in the first place when he lit his notebook on fire. Their life had been perfect before that happened. 

He was the reason that Donnie got hurt. He never would have had to protect him if he hadn’t lost control of his weapon.

And now he was the reason there was a smoldering handprint on the dresser, and he didn’t even understand why or how to stop it! He had no idea how to fix it, but he couldn’t let this keep happening.

He could not let himself keep being a liability to his family.

---

When Raph had finally been allowed to see his siblings again, he had grabbed them all and hugged them as tight as he possibly could. It really hadn’t been that long since they all saw each other-- but it had been way, way too long to be alone.

Raph hated being alone. He didn’t care if he was in some nice, fancy hotel room now or whatever. He’d gladly go back to the dungeons if he could do so with his siblings. He had spent the entire time pacing, floating in and out of various degrees of panic. The only reason that he hadn’t gone totally off his rocker was Mayhem, who spent a majority of the time with him, and brought him little written messages from his family every few hours or so.

Every time he was about to really, truly lose it, he’d get some little note from April, some doodle from Mikey, some scribbles from Leo or Donnie, and he’d be able to remind himself that yes-- definitively, most certainly, without a doubt, they were all okay. They were close by and hadn’t forgotten about him, were thinking about him, and they’d see him again soon. 

And they did.

And he didn’t want to let go.

In fact, it had taken a bit of convincing from his family before he finally released them from the embrace, chuckling nervously and rubbing the back of his neck, mumbling out a few apologies even though he knew they didn’t hold it against him. And, yeah okay, he felt better now that they were all here, but…

It could be under better circumstances.

The locker room was empty except for him and his siblings, and he supposed that that, at least, was an upside. Less people, less stress, right? And his family was all here. Or, well, most of them, at least… But April and his little brothers, they were all right here, and he could see all of them, so it was fine…

He just really wished their dad was here. He wished he at least knew where they were keeping him. He knew that he’d be here if he had a choice.

He paced through the aisles, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“Poor little guy. After all he’s done for us, and we’ve totally exhausted him,” April tsked softly, holding Mayhem in her arms as if he were a baby. The yokai was completely passed out after spending the past day or so continuously bouncing around hotel rooms to pass along messages, and Raph winced with quiet guilt. He chewed at the joints of his fingers.

“He’s earned his naptime for sure,” Leo muttered, smirking a tiny bit, watching as April carefully settled the yokai down into a little nest of towels on the benches.

Raph wrinkled up his nose, resisting a whine.

“It’s okay. He’ll be safe and sound back here while we’re busy kicking Nexus butt!” Mikey chirped, grinning.

How could the rest of them all be so calm!?

They were literally about to go into the freakin’ ring of terror and fight for their lives! For their freedom! Didn’t they understand how high the stakes were? Weren’t they concerned?! What if they didn’t win? What if someone got hurt, or worse--

“Raph.”

Raph jumped at the sound of his name, his eyes snapping around to meet April’s eyes

“Everything is going to be okay,” she soothed, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Look. I’m freaked out, too! But we’re all going in there together, okay? We’ve got your back! And we all have you to look out for us and protect us, too! We’ll be fine.”

And it was reassuring. Really, it was. But tears built up in Raph’s eyes anyway, completely without his consent, and his lip started to absolutely tremble even as he nodded. Mikey got over to him even before April could, somehow, crashing into his side with a hug, the rest of the family close behind-- even Donnie.

“It’ll be okay, big guy,” April assured, snuggled up against his side. “You guys are literally world-champion martial artists! You’re the actual sons of Lou Jitsu! We got this!”

“Yeah. And it’s not like we’re going in there alone, remember? We’ll all cover each other,” Leo said. “I mean, come on, if Dad can do it on his own, then it’s gonna be a piece of cake with all of us in there, right?”

He forced a weary little laugh, hugging his family close.

Oh god. How was he gonna protect them all?...

“Right. Yeah, okay. We’ll be alright,” he said, sighing deeply, and no sooner had he said this did a bright green light blare above the doors, flashing insistently at them. All of them floundered for a moment, and it took Raph a moment to realize that they were all looking at him.

“I think that means it’s time to go,” he muttered, taking a long, deep, shaking breath. “... Everyone just stick close, alright? And… follow my lead.”

The group gave a chorus of mumbled agreements, and Raph bit the inside of his cheek. Aw man. Now he just had to figure out what lead they were gonna follow…

With a long, deep breath, Raph made his way through the door, trusting that his siblings were all right behind him. Already, the air in the tunnel felt different somehow. Colder. It prickled at his skin and he drew his flannel a bit closer to himself, gritting his teeth.

“Introducing--” The booming voice that came over the announcement system was so loud it shook the walls, and Raph’s steps stumbled ever so slightly. He moved a bit closer to his siblings, keeping pace with them as they made their way down the tunnel. He thought dimly to himself that it was just like football-- rushing out onto the field at the start of the game.

Right. Sure. This is just another game. Another tournament or competition or something. Just… Think about it that way.

“For the first time EVER in the Battle Nexus--”

It wasn’t a game, though. Not for them. This was real. This was life or death. 

Oh, god, what were they thinking? This was a horrible idea. Something bad was gonna happen. Someone was gonna get hurt--

This is how you bring Dad home, a little voice in his head reminded him, and Raph steeled himself, clenching his hands into fists.

This is how we bring Dad home. This is how we’re gonna bring Dad home. You all have each others’ backs-- and this is how we save Dad. Everyone is counting on you, big guy. 

We can’t screw this one up. This is how you protect our family.

As they stepped out into the ring, Raph winced at the glare of the lights. Everywhere he looked, there were faces of unfamiliar creatures absolutely screaming at him. The roaring of the crowd was so frantic and loud that at some point, it stopped being voices and all melted together into one roaring buzz, threatening to swallow them all up and drown them. Raph swallowed.

No backing down down.

“The sons of Lou Jitsu!”

[ next ]

[fayes-fics]

Innocence Pt II

Innocence series masterpost

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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict teaches his intended how to use their mouth for his pleasure. Second fic in the Innocence series.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, dirty talk, sex education, innocence/corruption kink, handjob, blowjob, swallowing.

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: Second in this series. Many thanks to @makaylan and @chaoticcalzoneranchsports for betaing, helping with suggestions as I wrangled some aspects and some regency medical knowledge. I hope you all enjoy <3

You are sneaking up the grand staircase, your gloved hand in his gloved hand. He places a finger over his lips to indicate staying quiet, and you do.

The Smythson Ball had been so terribly dull up until about a minute ago when he wordlessly grabbed your hand and led you from the ballroom, across the grand hallway and upstairs, unseen by your parents, that he has yet to meet.

“I think it’s time we prepared you a little more for marriage,” his tone low, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

He tries a few doors, but many appear locked.

“Sensible. The Ton has a surprising number of petty thieves,” he remarks casually, still holding your hand tight. The last door of the hallway gives way under his turning, and he makes a small noise of triumph, then a slight sound of consternation.

You peer around behind him to see why. The room is set up like a small classroom with wooden desks and chairs.

“I was looking for somewhere with a bed,” Benedict purses his lips, “but this will have to do.” He tugs you into the room, quickly scanning the hallway before closing the door quietly.

“What will I learn tonight?” your tone bright, rocking excitedly on your feet as you watch him lighting the wall sconce candles.

He huffs affectionately at your enthusiasm and then moves in to kiss you.

“Remember how I treated you with my mouth two days ago?” he queries as the kiss ends, his moist lip almost glowing in the muted candlelight.

“Yes, it was wonderful,” you swoon slightly in his arms at the memory.

“Well, your mouth can bring me much pleasure too. Are you ready to learn how to do that?”

“Yes, please,” you effuse.

“Perhaps apt that we appear to be in a place of learning,” he rejoinders with a slight smirk, glancing around the room. “Now your mouth can run over my body just as I did yours, and it will bring me just as much pleasure, but sadly tonight, we are rather limited with time.” He removes and glances at his fob watch, placing it aside. “Your parents will notice you are absent if we spend too long, so we need to use our time more efficiently.”

“What do you need me to do, fiancé?” you inquire sweetly.

He sits on one of the desks and signals you to take the seat in front of him, removing his gloves and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Sit here first,” he says quietly, “then in a little while, you will be on your knees.”

“Like when I say my prayers?”

He makes a strained noise. “Yes, just like that.”

He unbuttons his trousers at the hip, and you subconsciously rub your thighs together, already tingling and excited about what will happen, recalling how he looked a couple of days ago when he spilt his seed onto you.

“Now, my love, you remember my cock don’t you?” He speaks casually.

“Yes, I’m excited to touch it,” you admit, and he smiles in response.

You watch as he peels down his trousers. This time there is no underwear.

“Where are your white undergarments?”

“I decided to forgo them tonight,” he answers, “swifter access for you, my dear.”

“Oh,” you acknowledge, “should I do the same for you once we are married?”

He chuckles richly. “Yes, please. And be sure to tell me by whispering it in my ear in public.”

“Isn't that terribly scandalous?” you respond, a little thrill running down your spine at the idea.

“No one would ever know but me, darling,” he assures, running a thumb over your lips, “and I would find it so very arousing. I would have no choice but to take you somewhere secluded and fuck you,” he adds, a devilish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Your mouth falls open at his casual statement. “You wish to fuck me in public, husband?” you ask, a little breathless.

“Semi-public, yes, my love. The thrill of perhaps being caught—heightens the experience. You will understand soon enough,” he adds cryptically. The front of his trousers drops away, and you entirely forget the conversation.

He watches you as your eyes rake over him, a better view than you had the time before. In front of a patch of dark hair is his cock.

“Now for a little anatomy lesson…,” he starts, but you interrupt.

“Why does it look different?” confusion evident in your tone.

He snorts lightly. “My cock changes shape and size depending on my arousal level, my darling,” he explains. “Right now, I am half-hard. You see how it is drawn away from my body a little?”

You nod.

“Well, if it were unaroused, it would be smaller and rest on my leg. However, we have kissed and talked about sex, so I am slightly aroused.”

“And what does it take to make you hard like you were when you touched yourself?”

He leans forward, his breath tickling your ear. “Kiss me, and you can witness it grow.”

He brings his lips to yours and kisses you chastely at first, grabbing one of your hands and guiding it towards his lap. You gasp on his mouth as your fingertips touch warm, smooth, silky skin.

“Do you feel that?” He murmurs against your lips.

“Yes”

“Now feel the change.”

He opens his mouth hot over yours and teasingly licks your tongue. Deepening the kiss, his other hand rounding behind your head, into your hair and directing your movements, plundering your mouth. It’s a hot, hard, almost possessive kiss that makes your heart hammer.

You make a noise of surprise on his questing tongue as you feel his cock grow and change shape around your fingertips, springing upwards and becoming girthier.

“There you go,” he sounds smug as he pulls away. “Well done, look what you did to me.”

You look down and see his cock is much bigger now and standing almost upright. Like it was when he held it in his hand, and you sat on his lap.

“Go ahead; you can touch it,” he encourages.

You splay your fingers around it, fascinated by the contradiction of soft skin over something that now feels so steely.

“Wrap your hand tighter, my love,” he tutors, his eyes pinging between your face and your hand.

You do as asked, fingertips not quite meeting as you grip him. He feels so hot against your palm and fingers.

He groans, and your gaze shoots up to his face.

“Does that hurt?” you falter, concerned.

“Not in the slightest,” he responds instantly, “it feels just perfect.”

Then his hand is wrapping around yours, his palm warm.

“I’m going to show you how to touch me like this,” he says quietly, pushing your hand down. A roll of skin moves with you, unveiling pinker flesh underneath.

“What is that?”

“I have some skin here that moves,” he answers, struggling slightly to keep an even tone in his voice. “It is very sensitive; you can play, but please don’t push it down much beyond this point, or it may hurt me, alright, my love?”

“Yes,” you reply, eagerly cataloguing the information, fascinated by his body, so different from your own.

He guides your hand back up his shaft, squeezing gently as your thumb brushes the spot where the skin joins, and he lets out a faint moan.

“Mmm, that’s it, now you try,” he lectures, removing his hand.

You grip him firmly but not hard and start to move up and down, squeezing a little just as he demonstrated.

“Perfect,” he mutters thickly, his eyes closed.

He makes tiny whines as you speed up and experiment with your grip and hand placement. It feels exciting to finally be allowed to touch and explore him intimately. To witness all the little signs of his arousal—the change in his breathing, the hammering of his pulse in his veins, the way his neck cords with tension as he makes keen sounds. When you see a drop of fluid bead at his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, and he groans.

The table squeaks slightly as he adjusts his hips, surging into your hand with a needy little noise. It causes his trousers to fall further away, allowing you to see something else nestling between his legs.

“What is that?” you question, glancing beneath your fist.

His eyes fly open and track your line of sight. He smiles slightly.

“That is my balls, darling. You didn’t see them last time as they were hidden inside my trousers,” he explains, his hand stilling yours on his cock.

“What do they do?”

He laughs briefly. “I’m unsure how to answer; that is where my seed is stored.”

“So that is where babies come from?” you sound incredulous.

“Not completely,” he chuckles affectionately. “It’s where my contribution comes from. Your wonderful body takes my seed and grows a beautiful child,” he advises.

You nod your understanding. “Can I touch them?” you are intrigued by the different-looking texture of the skin there.

“Of course,” he beams, unfurling his hand from around yours and leaning back slightly. “You are my fiancée, and you may touch any part of my body you wish; I want you to know my body and be familiar and comfortable with it. And, of course, excited by it,” he adds with a small smile.

“I am very excited by you, Benedict,” you assure, sensing a chink of vulnerability in his tone. Then you elaborate using the words he taught you “you make me wet when you kiss me.”

You feel his cock pulse in your hand, and your mouth forms a small O-shape of surprise. “What was that?”

“That was because of what you said,” his tone slightly rough, “when you say such lovely things, my body reacts.”

“I had no idea,” you profess, fascinated. “What else can I say to excite you, husband?”

“I will teach you one day,” he promises, “but after we have had sex. Then I will want you to tell me exactly what you want from me in precise detail. And I will do it.”

As he talks in a dusky tone, you release your soft grip on his cock and trail your fingers lightly over the skin of his balls. It feels different, with looser skin that is rougher in texture.

“That’s almost ticklish,” he warns, “use a firmer touch, please, my love; cup them with your hand.”

He inhales sharply when you do as suggested. “Yes, oh, that’s wonderful,” he compliments as you explore their weight in your hand.

“Do you have more questions, or are you ready to move on?” he inquires sotto voce.

“What to…?” you wonder aloud, your concentration still on his balls.

“Using your mouth, my love,” he chuckles lightly.

“Oh!” You’d almost forgotten that was the plan, enjoying exploring with your hands so much. “Of course. What do I do?” You look up at his face expectantly, and he leans forward and brushes a quick kiss over your lips, a hand cupping your jaw.

“Open your mouth for me,” he commands softly, his thumb slipping in and pressing down on your tongue. His skin tastes like the strawberries you saw him eat earlier but with a trace of charcoal. “Two very important things when your mouth is on me, my love. First, you will find it much easier if you breathe through your nose. Second, no teeth on me, please. Let's practise with my fingers first.”

You nod your acceptance, and his pointer and middle finger join his thumb in your mouth.

“Okay, now close your lips around my fingers and suck, my love,” he requests mildly.

You form a tight seal with your lips and suck his fingers, looking up at his face for guidance. You watch as his pupils dilate further, and his eyebrow twitches up.

“Oh, that’s very good,” he utters lowly.

“Now I’m going to put my fingers a little deeper,” he warns and presses in slowly until his knuckle meets your lips, his fingernails catch lightly against the back of your mouth.

“Keep sucking, darling. Oh, what a good girl,” he lauds, “you are doing so wonderfully.”

The praising tone does funny things to your insides; you are suddenly desperate to impress him, even though you only have a vague idea of what that will entail.

He drags the fingers from your mouth and wipes them on his trouser leg; the little lines around his eyes crinkle endearingly. “Well done; I think you are ready to use your mouth on me.”

A warm hand lands on the gauzy shoulder of your dress. “Kneel, darling,” he orders softly.

You shuffle off the chair and kneel carefully between his splayed thighs, his cock at face height, inches away. There's a fizz of excitement in your belly at the prospect of taking him into your mouth. You can smell his body; it’s soap and his natural scent you now recognise, more potent here than elsewhere; it’s woodsy and citrus, and it makes you salivate.

Without thought, you pitch forward and breathe deep, your cheek brushing his cock.

“Are you sniffing me?” his voice incredulous.

“What? You did it to me!” You respond in defence, looking up to see surprise etched on his handsome face. It’s perhaps the first time you’ve talked back to him, and there is a flash of something in his eye.

“I can’t wait to marry you, you little vixen,” he rumbles at you, apparently impressed.

It’s your turn to flash a slightly crooked grin.

Before you know it, he’s craned your head back, diving down for a heated, passionate kiss. Both hands cupping your head, encouraging you to explore his mouth and take from him.

“Instruct me, Benedict,” you whisper as you lean towards his cock, so eager to please him.

“Kiss the tip,” he exhales a steadying breath.

You feel his fingers flex in your hair as you shuffle forward, your knees scraping on the scuffed wooden floor, and capture him with your lips. His cock tip feels warm and silky, and your skin flushes warm at what is about to happen.

“Mmmm… now take your time and explore me with your tongue and mouth,” he instructs.

You peek out your tongue and lick the top, it bobs against you, and he hums approvingly. Emboldened, you swirl a lick around, using a hand to gently pull down his skin and dabbing the pink flesh underneath, so pleased when he groans. He was correct on one thing; he does not taste like you. But it’s not a bad flavour, like his skin but with an undercurrent of something more tart. You run down the underside. He moans as you also tentatively lick across the top of his balls. His taste is even stronger there.

“You taste nice, husband,” you speak almost absentmindedly, taking a more spirited swipe over his skin.

That elicits a noise you haven’t heard from him before; it sounds feral from somewhere deep inside him, and you flood your underwear.

“Fuckkk” slips out of you before you can stop it.

He inhales sharply. “Did you just curse?” He seems shocked.

“Yes, I’m sorry I was surprised, that’s all.”

“Never apologise to me for that. It is very arousing,” his voice is scratchy and low. “Why did you swear?”

You nuzzle your face against his cock, ashamed to look up when you answer. “When you made that noise, my underwear got wet,” you confess quietly.

“How wet?” He asks, his voice tight.

“Soaked,” you admit.

“God, I need to fuck you,” he stammers heavily.

You feel your nipples pebble almost painfully as he grasps your hair, fingers sliding solidly along your scalp. “Now, when you are ready, try to take my cock into your mouth, please, my love,” he pleads.

You push up to place your mouth atop his cock, then slide down, allowing the head to pass between your lips, remembering his instruction to shield your teeth.

He feels hot and huge with just his tip inside your mouth. He stutters, and his hand rests weightily on your head.

“Take more, please, darling,” he begs.

You breathe through your nose slowly and sink a fraction further, pressing your tongue onto the underside and sucking hard as he slips further into your mouth.

“Oh god, yes…. Look up at me,” he directs.

You tilt your head, looking up at him wide-eyed. The hand at the back of your head slides around to caress your cheek.

“You look beautiful,” he breathes, his eyes flashing dark, “suck a little more, my love; let me see those cheeks hollow out.”

He makes a hungry noise as you increase your suction, surrounding his cock with a tight hold. He feels so overwhelming, but in a pleasant way, like all your thoughts are only of this, of him, of how it feels to make him so aroused his voice goes rough and his breathing stutters.

“Perfect. Perfect,” Benedict chants.

The overwhelming need to please him has you sinking further, not breaking eye contact. He bumps the back of your mouth, and you squeak slightly before questing against him with your tongue.

“Fuck yes,” he hisses, “now move your head up and down as you did with your hand.”

You back off, allowing just the tip to be held between your lips, then sink back down, keeping up the suction as much as possible, breathing heavily through your nose. You quickly adjust to the sensation of his silky skin passing between the ring of your lips, enjoying how he feels in your mouth, the power you have over him and his body like this.

”You are so good at this. You take my cock so well,” he praises, his voice uneven and almost frantic.

You hold his gaze, watching so many micro-expressions of lust, hunger, and devotion pass over his face as you suck on his cock. The now familiar pulsing around your clit is a giveaway of how much pleasure you are getting from this act. Your mind flashes back to how good it felt to have his tongue lashing you, and you can’t help the moan that escapes with him deep in your mouth. He stumbles out a needy noise, his ring scraping on the wooden desk next to you.

“Fuck, that felt good. Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” His eyes blaze, just a ring of haze around black.

You nod vigorously, letting his cock hit the roof of your mouth.

“Good, I'm glad you enjoy sucking my cock. I will want you to do this a lot,” Benedict admits. “Would you be willing to do it in our carriage?”

You nod.

“Hidden under the dinner table…urrrrg… as I entertain guests?” His sentence is broken as you slide up and down in a fluid motion, perfecting a technique he seems to enjoy immensely.

You giggle around him and nod again.

“You are so perfect,” he utters with devotion, “my innocent little wonder,” he strokes your cheek with the back of his knuckles as you suckle on his tip, that crooked smile causing all the butterflies to riot in your stomach.

Wanting so much to make this incredible for him, without asking, you draw off his cock and encase one of his balls in your mouth, sucking with a gentle pull.

“Oh yesssss. I don’t need to teach you anything; you are figuring this out all by yourself. Such a good girl,” his moaned praise once again, spurring you on and making you so aroused you are certain you will expire without some friction.

You channel all your desire into bringing pleasure, wanting nothing more than his low voice giving more compliments that vibrate to your core. Craving to make him mindless the way he did to you.

You spear your tongue where his loose skin attaches, and he makes a series of little staccato noises that are music to your ears. You do it repeatedly until he growls, and you suddenly switch motion, sucking hard on his tip and licking the leaking slit. There is a bloom of new flavour there that makes you pause. It’s not pleasant but not awful, just different to anything you’ve tasted before, slightly salty and bitter.

“Is everything okay, my love?” He checks, his voice full of loving concern placing a hand on your shoulder as you realise you have stilled your movements.

You pull up slightly, just enough to talk. “You were not wrong about a man tasting different to a woman,” you reply with a light tone.

He huffs a laugh, almost nervous. “I hope it’s not entirely unpleasant?”

“It’s okay,” you attest, moving again, confident that the flavour is something you will get used to with time. Every time you twist your head slightly to one side and allow a new angle, he makes the most delightful little sound you can't get enough of.

He fondly touches your cheek. “You are doing so well, my love. My wife.”

It’s the first time he has called you wife, not wife-to-be or fiancée—just wife. It does something primal to your body, and now you ache to make him spill as he did before onto your body, but this time you want it in your mouth regardless of the taste. You return to prolonged sucking draws on his shaft, looking up at him, only pausing to swallow your saliva as it gathers in your mouth.

“Y/n….” It’s throaty and reverential; you want nothing more than him and this forever.

You realise you can also use your hand and cover the whole of him with ease. So you start to twist your grip slightly and concentrate your mouth around his most sensitive tip.

He is making constant little panting noises now, his body twitching.

“Call me Mrs Bridgerton,” you plead desperately, muffled around him, shuffling on your knees so you can quest a hand up under your skirts and touch yourself the way he has before.

“Are you attempting to bring yourself pleasure Mrs Bridgerton?” His question thick and resonant.

You moan and make a noise of assent.

“God, yes, touch yourself,” escapes his lips.

He grasps your hair as you speed up and push insistently with your tongue, your lips feeling tingly from the pressure of holding a tight ring around his cock.

“Fuck I’m going to come soon,” he warns with a whine, his hips flexing with every stroke you make.

You just make encouraging noises that you hope he can feel vibrate through him, wanting to heighten his pleasure. Between your legs is a molten hot slick of desire; your body is a siren call to him. You don’t want to wait to be joined with him; you need it in every fibre of your being.

“Please fuck me soon, Benedict,” you implore as you pull away briefly to take a deep, shuddering breath.

He snarls loudly, “I will, god, fuck, I will. My beautiful little wife.”

He shouts a curse as you remove your hand and sink to let him bump deep into your mouth, sucking and swirling, knowing he is dancing on edge now. You notice he curls a foot around the table leg to give himself something to cling onto. You close your eyes as you concentrate on this moment—the heat emanating from his skin, the symphony of needy, hungry noises and your name tumbling from his lips, the way you can feel his heartbeat pulsing against your tongue. You feel your core throbbing in sympathy and in tempo with the hand flexing and releasing on your shoulder.

Then he groans gutturally, and you feel a strong pulse travel up his cock, his whole body curling over you. A salty rope of fluid hits the back of your mouth and drips down into your throat. Fighting the urge to gag and cough, you instinctively swallow and stay still as more shoots out. He holds your face groaning your name. The taste is less sour than before, almost a sweet edge, and you swallow it to allow yourself to withdraw and take a calming breath, your clit still pulsing, swollen and painfully aroused by everything that has transpired, so visceral and carnal.

He moans as you let his cock fall from your lips and briefly rest your head on his lap, kissing the slightly fuzzy-haired meat of his upper thigh, catching your breath.

He tilts your chin up, a handkerchief in his hand. “You may spit, my love,” his voice rough.

“Oh, there is no need, husband,” you reply with a little smile, meeting his gaze.

“Did you… swallow my seed?” Benedict stutters, his mouth falling open in admiring surprise.

“Yes… was I not supposed to?” You suddenly worry you did something wrong.

“No, no, my love, you can if you wish, it will not harm you. But please don’t ever think you have to, but thank you. You are a marvel; I am quite the luckiest man in the world,” he declares.

You beam up at him demurely, then take the hand he offers you to assist you to your feet, him tucking himself back into his trousers.

He stands to fasten the buttons one-handed, the other still holding yours. As he finishes, he pulls you into an embrace.

“Tradition be hanged; we are announcing our engagement tonight.” He states fiercely, cupping your jaw tenderly and placing a delicate kiss on your lips. “We must be married within two weeks; I can't bear the thought of us waiting any longer.”

“Me either, Mr Bridgerton,” you declare. He mirrors the grin on your face.

What feels like only moments later, you are finally introducing your parents to your intended, him the very epitome of an honourable suitor, you the very picture of a chaste lady. As he charms them with his easy wit and warm personality, all you can think about is the lingering taste of his seed in your mouth, so keen to know what he will teach you next.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell

[xxstraymoonchildxx]

This Couple is Unusual

Prev. / Next

Chapter 2 This Couple, investigating

cw: bad humor, graphic description of a corpse in the second half

You didn’t know who looked more perplexed. Satan or the, admittedly handsome stranger with the pitch-back hair.  They still stared at each other, both bent down to touch the felines, it was almost comical. Slowly they stood up, both with a kitten in hand. Satan cleared his throat. The other person did the same. They eyed each other for a long moment, the felines meowing and tugging at their dress pants begging for attention. It reminded you of Mammon and Asmo.

“I did not expect to run into another person with a love for cats,” the stranger said while bowling politely with a practiced smile on his lips.

“Likewise. Well, there is much to appreciate about them obviously.”

You weren't sure but it looked like they were bonding telepathically. 

/Is this the beginning of a new romance?/

Whatever it was that was happening in this non-verbal dialogue, it was cut short quickly.

"Sebastian, what are you doing?!”

A small person a few feet away appeared out of nowhere, a scowl on his young face. He couldn't be much older than twelve or thirteen. It was obvious that he tried to appear more mature from his fashion choice - a top hat and high-heeled shoes and in his hand a walking cane like the other gentlemen walking around the area. 

He clicked his tongue, watching the cats with disdain. The blue shade and style of his hair reminded you of Belphegor’s and he had the youngest sibling-energy around him to match; now you couldn't unsee it (It would be funny if he had a twin). 

“Please excuse me, it was my pleasure, Sir. Farewell.”

“I apologize for the wait, young master.”

“Tch, let's hurry already.”

“That was weird. But they kinda remind me of some people I know,” you deadpanned, watching the duo with the interesting dynamic leave until they vanished between buildings. 

Satan checked into the hotel. Not that you weren’t capable of doing it yourself but you had to follow the customs in this era whether you liked it or not.

It did come with a bonus. Satan was in uncharacteristically high spirits from the moment you stepped into the hotel room together. Unbeknownst to you he was happy that he could spend this and the coming nights with you, in the same bed, without having to worry that one of his brothers would barge in, demanding time with you - and way too kind you, usually folding. 

You readied yourself for bed, longing to sink into the mattress from this exciting day but first you had to shower -  technically you’d have to do with a sponge bath but luckily you were a sorceress and had the right spells on hand to do the trick, courtesy of Asmodeus. Satan helped you with your dress, opening the back for you. The outer material pooled at your feet. “This dress sure has many layers,” you couldn't help but complain as you stepped over the striped dress, untying the padded bustle from around your hip, shaking off the thin petticoat and the corset cover. Satan watched you twiddling with the lacing of your corset while walking into the bathroom. He respectfully looked away, pulling out his nightwear, a dark blue pajama.

In the modest bathroom, you dropped the rest of your undergarments “Spirit of water and wind, I, the sorcerer y/n command thou to clean and dry my earthly vessel.” 

After everything was done, you changed into a simple tank top and a pair of satin shorts and handed the bathroom over to Satan, who joined you in bed fifteen minutes later. 

There the two of you lay, snuggled up together with you tucked under his arm and him with a book in hand for you to read.

Wasn't all this wonderfully domestic?

The next day 

Bold letters hung above the entrance door, spelling the word “Undertaker” and a skull on top of the sign.

You decided to visit him after getting an approval letter from Scotland Yard. The wine did wonders! Anyway, the funeral parlor looked very interesting from the outside! On the right two anthracite coffins and three sotoba - you had to ask Satan what those even were - were leaning against the brick wall. On the left were two tombstones and a flag leaning against one of them. The cobwebs were a nice detail, too. /Guess you need to stand out from the competition/

A little bell jingled when you stepped inside. It was dark and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The candle chandelier didn't do much to illuminate the place. Satan didn't have this problem, his bluish-green eyes observing the unfamiliar room.

Coffins were standing around, even the counter was a massive exemplar. Large shelves with various bottles and jars containing questionable items crosses on the wall, skulls, and a human skeleton in the back. The place had cobwebs inside and out and needed a good dusting. 

Not that he was any better with his room back in the House of Lamentation but at least it was squeaky clean.

“Hehehe”

The coffin on your left suddenly squeaked open. A set of dark long nails tapped the wood, pushing the lid to the side. 

“What a nice surprise, customers in the making!” the man said in a squeaky voice, giggling like a madman. An interesting entrance for sure. As unique as the person itself. A crooked top hat sat on top of long silver hair, the bangs hid his eyes, leaving only the lower part visible which displayed a wide, crazed smile and a prominent scar running from his cheeks up and over his nose. 

With swift steps he glided over the floor, stopping himself just right in front of Satan, leaning in. “What brings you to me, care for a test lay in one of my first-rate coffins? We have a pair, brand new~ Care for a fitting?” Irritation oozed from the blond, so you decided to step in. “Excuse us, Mister...eh” His head snapped towards you, still grinning “Undertaker~”

“Yeah, I can see that?”

“Hehe, no, that's my name,” he slyly boobed your nose with his long index finger or rather his nail. Asmo would love to paint them. 

“Oh, like a pseudonym for an artist. Noted.”

Undertaker twirled around, the long black coat fluttered along with his movement and the mourning lockets around his waist clicked together. “Artist! Oh my, how flattering! It sure is, preparing my guests for their most important day.”

“So?” the funeral director drawled out, propping himself up against the counter and crossing his legs. (You noticed the slight shift in his demeanor, planting the thought inside your head that he looked kind of cool when he didn’t act like a weirdo). Satan cleared his throat “My name is Holmes and this is my wife. We are journalists from America and have permission to write about the Whitechapel murders in all their detail. We were informed you are in charge to autopsied the victims”

His wife. You blushed. 

You did talk about playing a married couple while undercover but hearing the term from his mouth and addressing you made your head all fuzzy while Satan felt pride swelling in his chest that rivaled Lucifer's. 

Undertaker hummed like he already knew about you. “It will cost you,” he grinned.

“How much?” Satan was ready to pick out his wallet but Undertaker beat him to it. In the blink of an eye, he dashed forward, halting close to Satan’s face. “I don’t desire the queen’s coins. What I want is…” 

A dramatic pause.

“...a Joke. Make me laugh~”

/This human is unreal-/ Satan’s left eye twitched. 

“Well, they do say ‘A kingdom for a joke’” you chirped in while Satan gave you a side eye. Undertaker giggled excitedly, plopping down on one of the coffins. You raised your hand as if in class. “Let me try!”

You took a moment to ponder over your options, searching for a joke that wasn’t too modern. 

“A man and his son are driving past a graveyard. Suddenly the son leans forward asking “Do they ever bury two people in the same grave?”

Surprised the father said “Of course not! Why ask such a question?” His son replied “Well, I read a gravestone that said “Here lies a lawyer and an honest man”

Silence. Satan sweatdropped. 

You were worried for a moment, thinking /Maybe I should have told the orphan/ graveyard joke/

“BWAHAHAHA”

To your surprise, the silver-haired director threw his body back, maniacal laughter blasting through the building. He held his belly, kicking his feet like a child. He laughed for two minutes straight, without taking a breather until he finally calmed down, sitting himself up properly and rubbing his eyes with the long sleeves of his coat. 

“Wonderful,” he quaked “Consider the payment done. My newest guest just arrived today and I was about to start the autopsy before you came in” 

Undertaker hopped down from his coffin and with the movement of his finger, he ordered you silently to follow him down the stairs.  

A disgusting smell of blood, disinfectants, and death hung in the cold air and instantly hit your nose. It smelled disgusting and you were glad you skipped breakfast this morning. Satan was less affected, the lucky demon! The reason for the stink was lying on two metal tables each, partly covered by an old linen cloth. Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes were the recent victims of Jack the Ripper as the silver-haired man informed the two of you. 

“I must warn you, this is not for the faint heart” Undertaker warned but nevertheless guided you towards Eddowes, carefully petting her hair peaking out from under the fabric “This one was not as lucky as her friend over there” 

“How so?” Satan asked, confused as both women were dead after all. 

With a knowing smile, Undertaker pulled away the cloth over Catherine's body, showing you all the gruesome work of her murderer. Thank whatever deity that you skipped the breakfast. The intestines had been stuffed back messily into her body, perhaps for the transportation of the corpse, and her throat had been slashed open. Her eyes were wide open from horror, having faced the killer just upon her death and mutilated nearly into unrecognition. 

“The killer slashed both victim's throats first, but this one was mangled much worse,” Undertaker explained, amused by your ever-changing facial reactions to the unsightly sight. “The killer was perhaps disturbed and searched for the next victim, finishing their work on dear Catherine here~ She was found with her intestines hanged over her shoulder, so they could reach for something else” He pointed towards her uterus, or rather where it should have been “My guest isn’t a whole woman anymore to add to the insult of dying in their own puddle of blood. The left kidney is missing as well, a minor detail but might be important as well.”     

/This is disgusting af/ you tried to stop breathing the foul odor in, holding a tissue to your nose. How Satan, who was deep in thought, was able to handle it was beyond you. “The kidney taken could mean the killer was involved with organ trafficking but the uterus? Very unusual…” He said it more to himself than anyone. “But the unsub very likely has experience in the medical field. They must be right-handed judging by their slashing movement”

“You refer to the killer as ‘they’, Mr. Undertaker,” you chimed in “The Yard and the public usually address Jack the Ripper with a male pronoun. Do you think the culprit could be a woman?”

The mortician hummed “That is a possibility yes, although they prefer poison, well, judging by my usual patronage.” 

“Nevertheless, the unsub most likely has personal feelings towards prostitutes in general. The victims have done something to anger the killer, the uterus and kidney are most likely some sort of trophy, usual for serial killers. As you said, the uterus is exclusively female and the kidney has significance in several cultures. In Egypt, for example, they were left in mummies because they connected the kidney with judgment and moral decisions. In Hebrew, it was understood as the seat of emotion together with the heart and bowl. And during medieval times they were regarded as the seat of our conscience. Fascinating.”

/Satan - Google, who?/

Undertaker regarded the blond with a cheeky smile “You sure are a smart one, Mr. Holmes. Interesting deduction.” 

You beamed, proud of your husband. If Undertaker looked closely, he could see the hearts floating above your head. 

“We thank you for your time, Mr. Undertaker” You curtsied politely, glad you finally left the mortuary, which bad smell hopefully didn’t stick onto your clothes and hair. “It was my pleasure. I hope you’ll tell me another joke one day.”

Satan deadpanned (He loved you, but those dad jokes…)

“Oh, I have one for free. Wanna hear?”

“What do you call it when an orphan visits a graveyard?” 

“Oh, please tell me~”

“A family reunion” 

Silence. 

/Too offensive?/

A chime of a little bell forced all of your attention to the entrance door. The young boy from the day before stepped inside forcefully, the man dressed in black from head to toe by his side. “Are you here, Undertaker!?”

You were not sure that the funeral director started to roar with laughter just because of your joke.

What an unusual man, that Undertaker.

Sorry for the long wait. Hope you like it.

[tanglepelt]

Acts unmasked -3

Ellie's demand and Jazz's appearance.

------

A03 Prev Master

Danny had no idea how to handle this situation. Ellie was already spread out on a bed taking claim of the television in the room. She seemingly didn’t want to talk about any of this.

On top of that, the room just was covered in windows looking into space. Did he first thing figure out how to open the blinds of the windows? Yes. But really. How could he not? It was space.

He should just close them again.

Danny needed to explain to Ellie what was going on. The cover story and everything she needed to know. He couldn’t have her call him phantom and she definitely had to be told she was princess. Why did he put her? That was just messed up. Telling random people on the off chance they may help. He’s lucky it didn’t seemingly make matters work. He just had to break it to her.

Where was Jazz??

She could handle this way better than him. She’d know how to break this news. Danny was an awful choice in that regard. Obviously, he just rushed into things. He would just not say anything. Not until jazz was here.

“Danny? What are you hiding? You have that look in your eyes and are pacing” Ellie questioned.

“Nothing” the raised eyebrow only confirmed he spoke too quickly.

“What are you hiding,” she asked while leaving behind the bed and clicking off the remote.

“It’s not important.”

“Then tell me.”

“Did you know astronauts in space age 0.007 seconds slower than people on Earth for every half hour they spend in space... I’m pretty sure that applies to us as well.”

“Danny”

He just had to steer her away. “What about the fact there are more trees on Earth than stars in the sky”

“Dannnnyy”

Maybe Tucked was right, space facts don’t distract. Bits and pieces. That’s what he’ll give. He just doesn’t have to mention the princess part of the being sold part. “I’m just stressed. I told them I was the ambassador. I don’t even know what those do. Now I don’t know what’s going to happen here. We can’t let them know I’m king. What if they use that against us? Please don’t tell them”

“Why”

“I may have insinuated… that the realm was ready to destroy this universe. Which I mean it is. But like. They don’t need to know who exactly the king is….” Perfect cover!!

“Hmmmm. That’s really all??” asked with uncertainty.

“Totally. It’s not like you were sold to the government or anything. That would be utterly ridiculous.” Why did that come out of his mouth?

“They did wWHAT?!?” Ectoplasm inching its way out.

Heck. No. This wasn’t good. Her reserves couldn’t handle any dump.

“I… ummm. Did say. It’s not like…” his defense well he didn't have one.

“You’re an awful liar. We all know this.” Her face hardened “They aren’t getting away with this”

He knew that look. It’s the same one she had right before the attack on the box ghost. No no no no. He had to stop this before she could do anything.

“I already did. The acts get revoked, Jack and Maddie punished, and the guys in white punished” he really hoped she reacted well to the last tad bit “and. Well. Jazz is going to be your guardian.”

He was just going to explain that part. Hopefully, that will work and give her other things to think about.

“you need a guardian and actual identification. We can make them do all that for us. No risking Tucker going to jail for making a fake identity. Jazz and I have always wanted you to actually stay with us. That’s why the apartment is two bedrooms. Jazz was always gonna stay on campus.”

It’s at least calming her tone somewhat. Ellie has always been hard to read.

“My travels I’m no-“

“No. I won’t stop you. But maybe it can be a group thing. On the weekends or something. No more traveling around all alone.”

“Promise me. No more hidden plans, be straight with me”

Danny hesitated at that. He really didn’t want to promise that, not when he is still keeping secrets from her. He had gotten this far without causing his little sister to go on a rampage. Maybe he should just be straight with her.

With a sigh, he decided to take Jazz’s advice late.

“There’s one more thing. I should have told you a long time ago. Back when the transfer happened…. That procedure made you a member of the royal family. It made you” his gut was twisting at the Addison. “Well.. it um.. it made you the princceeesss…”

“It what”

Oh no. That was anger.

“You expect me to just accept that. Just to go oh alright. Why wasn’t I TOLD. Why want I warned? And YOU expect me to keep your secret. If the so-called ambassador can make a demand. I’m sure the actual apparent PRINces can.”

With that, she phased out the door. Danny rushed after her.

“ELLIE stop!!”

He was running in a thing called the watchtower. In space. With the view apparent, already losing sight of Ellie. She had the advantage and was using her powers. Which also was harmful to her. It would make her recovery time even worse.

He should have expected someone to stop him. This was an apparent superhero thing in space. But running gave first onto the green-skinned man. That wasn’t on his bingo list.

“My apologies, I was not expecting you to round the corner so fast. My name is Martian Manhunter. I’ve come to be of assistant”

“No. I just have to find her; she she ran off. I can’t find her. This place is too big. I don’t know what to do”?

“She’s made herself known in the conference room. I’d be more than happy to escort you there.”

His heart was pounding and his mind was racing. What was Ellie going to do? He had carefully on the spot figured out his. All things the council had brought up in those awful meetings. What chaos would she unleash?

So instead of speaking anymore. He just nodded and let himself be led on. This guy wasn’t human, Danny just felt like he could trust him.

By the time they were in the conference room. Ellie had transformed.

She transformed.

Out of all the things she could do. Did she not feel how depleted her reserves were?

No the worst thing she was doing. Was turning her head and smirking right at him.

“I’ll tell you my demand.” He could feel the tension. Hell. He didn’t even know what she wanted. “For me not to tattle to the” her smirk getting larger and looking straight at him “ghost king. I demand a puppy”

“Danielle phantom don-“

“Where did the last name phantom come from” stressing the next word “Daniel.”

“Danielle. You can’t just run off like that. Not just decide to make a demand. What if the apartment doesn’t allow pets? Does Jazz even want a puppy?”

“It’s a puppy or I tell the king everything. Even about the missile”

Danny had only mentioned that about a month ago at the last meet-up. The story about the GIW and the anti-ecto missile. How they barely stopped it. That he had to convince Skulker and Johnny not to eat them out to the council. No way they’d ignore the missile being launched even if it hadn’t hit.

“You can’t just blackmail yourself a puppy.”

“And you apparently can’t have a conversation about the consequences of a certain procedure. Can you mister Ambassador” At least she’s playing that part along? He could do without the questions this was arising.

This really needed to be done in a room without the eyes. He swears some of these people actually seemed amused at this.

“Neither of us asked for our positions in the court. Can we please have a private conversation about this”

“And we can talk about how you blew up the portal back in amity.” Now she was just trying to get their attention on him.

“Everyone knows not to be around the lab. The great hot dog revolution scared them all away. Blowing up the portal was our best bet. I couldn’t trust my wack job donors with it”

“And let’s not forget about your government lab break-ins. How many of those have you led.”

“Danielle. Please stop. Let’s not sit out my dirty laundry for everyone to see.”

“It’s only fair. You outed me as a princess” Her eyes were glowing, and she was floating even higher.

“I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want this position. But no, the realm choose me. We were in a bad situation. The only hope was those three on the roof. Two of them death touched. All I could do was try and attract their attention. What better way than to subtle threaten”?

“Then I get to demand a puppy I’ll claim I panicked as a reason.”

He felt it before the signs became apparent. She was maybe only floating a foot or two above the table. But her little to no signature dropped.

Trench coat man could definitely tell something was up. The way his eyes zoned into her.

Danny didn’t hesitate. Jumping on the table to grab Ellie as she de-transformed catching her as she passed out.

Well.

All eyes were on him.

“Umm. You guys. Can we like continue or something? Or we’ll. I’m sure there is something you want to ask. I can probably maybe possibly answer. Ummm. But like she’s out”

“Is the universe actually being threatened?” one of the green ones asked. He had a mask on. But there were two of these people.

“I mean yea. Like. You guys opened a portal into the realm, inviting criminals and stuff to the mortal plane. The portal opened in a bad spot. It’s not their fault humans are squishy. Ellie was strapped down to a table. Plus like the realm already didn’t like you guys. Something about stolen pools of ectoplasm and apparently previous summons. The whole mind-control rock thing I destroyed. That also didn’t help your guys case.”

“You do realize I have to report this to oa” he spoke again. Clearly not directed at him. Seeing as he looked everywhere but the middle of the conference table he was sitting on.

“Who exactly is that? Too many people already know about the realm. Mortals really aren’t meant to know we exist.”

“They are the heads of the lantern cr-”

“That means nothing to me. Let’s assume I know nothing and no one. I didn’t even know this league existed up until like what 4ish hours ago.”

He really didn’t need these looks right now.

“I didn’t choose to be born to mad scientists who sold my sister to the government to be experimented on. Don’t blame me for not being allowed to watch the news. Who are you to try to get tied up in this mess”?

The way they were looking at him was just complete shock. Who knew the news mattered so much to people?

“Essentially intergalactic cops”

“Yea no”

“It’s bad enough you lot know about the realms. I don’t want cops involved. The less the better. Humans are nosy enough. We don’t need other species aware of us.

The gods of this realm, members of the afterlife, and the extreme occultists know of our existence. Do you know how many times people have attempted to summon the master of time?

One was too much. This realm is already nosy don’t make it even nosier.

If they show up here, I’m out. Good luck with the council on your own. They’re more destructive and deader than me. If you absolutely have to tell them. I don t want to know. No cops around me or my sisters.

And in case anyone forgot. I am the one who unfortunately helps decides this universe's fate.”

It was so silent I’m the room you could hear a pin drop. Or in this case the mumbling of the trench coat man “Bloody hell there are three of them” grabbed his attention.

The door opened to reveal Black Bat and most importantly it was Jazz.

***

“Danny. Are you guys, okay?”

Danny didn’t verbally answer her. Looking over at him she wasn’t surprised. He looked exhausted and was desperately avoiding the open windows. His obsession must have kicked in.

She was even more concerned with the fact Ellie was passed out on top of him. Breathing far less than how she normally did. Given her need to breathe was more or less not needed it wasn’t too concerning, just showed how she wasn’t hiding her out non-human nature.

Black bat had informed her of the princess status being revealed, jazz certainly hoped that wasn’t the reason for them being active. She shouldn’t have spent all that time in pandoras haunt discussing ways to find Danny and Ellie. They all feared the worst when the explosion occurred, and they were met with radio silence.

Jazz had pandoras personal summons. Rather than discuss in her cramped dorm she had gone with Pandora.

Only to return after Frostbite came to tell her he was in Gotham to find a vigilante in her dorm room.

Black Bat also mentioned Danny claimed to be an ambassador. Jazz had the feeling that she knew he lied and was telling her to keep it up.

“Why are you sitting on a table with Ellie passed out on you?”

“She overused her reserves.”

“Let’s get the two of you out of here. They have a room from what I understand of the situation.”

“Yes, they do” the Martian manhunter replied “I’d be happy to assist you three.”

Jazz looked over at him. Tilting her head just a smudge. Danny shook his head no; the alien was not a ghost in disguise. She tiled it the other way. Danny nodded yes. He did actually trust him enough that he wouldn’t kill them off the bat.

She was aware they all knew they had a secret conversation. She also didn’t care. Her priority was getting these two safe and sound.

“No. You can help those two to the room. I’m sure black bat would be willing to take me in a second. My siblings are clearly exhausted, and I have a few things that need to be said.”

As her little siblings left. The tension grew as she turned away from the door and towards the crowd of supposed heroes. She didn’t give any of them a chance to speak.

“Let me make one thing straight. I don’t care who you are or what power you have. Danny may control your fate with the realm. But you mess with him, and you deal with me, and I will go straight to Pandora.

She can convince the king otherwise. He trusts her judgment.

Neither Danny nor Ellie accepted their position. Both were tricked or forced into them.

Danny does his best.

Imagine being thrown into a world where he makes new allies, and some enemies then has to keep a race that thrives of destruction. Have no concept of death anymore and are way stronger than humans. He keeps them from destroying amity.

Then he had to stop the guys in white and the nutjobs that gave birth to us from killing and dissecting these beings.

I know he gave you, his demands. Frostbite is aware as well” aware Danny was going to give some. Not that they needed that information. “Just do what Danny wants. He doesn’t need to be involved anymore; you know what needs to happen. Just do it. Don’t get others involved and they’ll be no problems. Danny may not want his position.”

Time to seal the deal.

“But he is one hell of an ambassador.”

With that, she followed black bat to her siblings.

[march32nd]

a halfhearted defense of the gas leak year

aka hot take season four isn't all that bad or actually no okay it kinda is but in fairness a lot of the seeds are there okay.

season three utilizes chang way worse than any other season. imo. and changnesia is the second best chang arc following the original. IMO. I feel like they didn't know what to do with him after he became a spanish teacher and the whole dictator thing feels ,,, very loaded and also just not interesting or funny? it feels boring is what I'm saying. and I will be a changnesia lover until the day I die if changnesia has 10 fans I am one of them if changnesia has one fan it is me etc

and troy/britta started in season 3. and not even subtly? it was a full-on thing that got left for the season 4 writers to have no choice to pull off. and I know ppl feel differently about the troy/britta thing but I just feel like. ok unnecessary. yk? it made it worse and not better BUT that's not season 4's fault!!!

there are good episodes. once I stop thinking oh gasleak year I remember that a good chunk of my most referenced eps and most quoted lines irl are from season 4: delta cubes, britta's sophie b. hawkins dance, routine light switch check, etc? and this season obviously had the Herstory of Dance episode but also the Basic Human Anatomy body swap episode!!! which are two of my faves

it feels different from prev seasons yeah. but also so did season 3? so did season 2? I really feel like this show is unique in how distinct its seasons are in terms of tone and quality idk

and in context of where it's gonna go next... seasons 5 and 6 are good but they are nowhere near as good as the first three, yk? and atp I could say the same thing about season 4 that's all

and like I'm not dumb yk it was a definite quality drop and that just is what it is but it did a lot right. I'm not saying it shouldn't get a bad rep !!! a lot of the characterization undid development from seasons 1-3 and a lot of the episodes rely on gimmicks to a degree that feels cheap and also makes everything like that from previous seasons feel kinda cheap by association? and some of that damage wasn't ever undone

but I feel like. the reason a lot of that damage wasn't undone was laziness. and harmon arrogance like "oh well OBVIOUSLY I'm better so I don't even have to touch that" maybe??? you know??? like kinda riding on his own reputation or something. idk. i'm speculating!!! but by treating season 4 like so blatantly not worth an attempt at redemption and just picking up as if nothing had happened, I think the following seasons suffered!!! in a way they didn't need to!!! it would be DOABLE to recover the character development instead of continuing to flanderize them. it would be DOABLE to return to roots and remind the audience of the heart of the show and what it's about. seasons 5 and 6, especially season 5, feel a little spiteful to me. like underneath it all is a marking-my-territory feeling? and that isn't season 4's fault!!! no matter what problems there are with season 4 you can't deny that it is earnest and heartfelt and genuinely somebody doing their best to make the best thing possible. idk.

[aquanova99]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕞

Azriel x OC

Part 2

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➽───────────────❥

Cassian leans against the wall as Nesta paces across the stone floor, knowing better than to interrupt when shes upset. Nesta was not blind she knew he was just as worried, if not more so for their friend. She stopped to go to him grabbing his shaky hand that was anxiously tracing over one of his syphon.

“I’m sorry.”

“I assume he’s still not saying anything.” When she shakes her head Cassian just takes a deep breath, “So, whats the plan now?”

“We could ask him for help. Have him join us to the town house. Maybe seeing Nyx will help. It has to be his choice, but…” Nesta shakes her head and presses her lips together, Cassian just brings her into him. Neither of them understanding what it was they had done to let their friend feel so isolated he couldn’t even speak to them.

Azriel for his part tried a bit more with Nesta, both of them having an understanding. After Luminia Grove, after Callista he found himself furious. Furious…and doubtful. He saw everything that had happened to him and questioned why? Why couldn’t his father simply leave him and his mother somewhere? Why did his half brothers hate him so much? Why did he agree to an alliance with two boys who beat him just as bad as anyone else in his life. They hated eachother until one day they simply didn’t.

He had pushed down all of his anger and it was as if it couldn’t be contained anymore. Never had he understood Nesta more. So his yelling was reserved for Cassian. Rhysand. Mor and Elain received silence. He no longer had the energy to try and untangle his feelings. Especially when, during his brief moments of lucidity, he only thought of Callista.

He can hear Nesta outside of his door. Waiting for him to be finished with his food, he sighed pulling out his pendant for only a second before speaking, “Nesta, you may come in. I wont bite your head off.”

“Yeah, that’s the issue I’m having. Can Cassian come?” Azriel’s lips tightened but he nodded. They both sat on a lounge chair, directly across from the bed Azriel sat. The shadows seeming unnervingly still.

“Az. He’s going to demand we go visit him soon if you don’t get out of this bed.” Cassian starts

“Maybe I should hike an entire mountain until I snap out of it.” He grumbles, he takes a deep breath at Cassian’s flinch. He knows he’s being too harsh when Nesta squeezes his hand, “I don’t want to see him.”

“We understand. I don’t like seeing him either.” Nesta shrugged, “But, we can see Nyx.”

Azriels chuckles, It has been awhile. Really he hasn’t been talking because its easier to talk about anything besides what happened those days he was gone. It seems ridiculous, he pines for his friend for centuries, then tries to be with someone because somehow each of his so called brothers are with her sisters, now all he could think about another woman who offered him a home, no stipulations or trials required. Apparently that was all it took. It was pathetic. He needed to forget the small hideaway he had found. And at the same time, he needed to figure out the protection spell. Why did he even want to help? His mind was racing nonstop, his headaches worse than ever. He couldn’t talk about it… So, instead, what does he do? Lash out.

“I—

“We won’t talk about it.” Nesta says

“Its not that. I don’t—I don’t understand whats happening…”

“Because your brain is reacting. As if you’re trying to survive something.” Azriel and Cassian stare, “When I was angry, and before I went on that…uhm mountain trip. I—Well it was like I was telling my mouth to stop talking but everything that came out was…mean and cruel. Like a part of me wanted everyone to either feel how I was feeling or make them leave me alone so I could stay miserable.”

The two ilyrian men stared at her. Cassian ready to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness again, Azriel ready to tell them everything. He did everything to hold his tongue. He quietly says he will go. Neither Nesta nor Cassian argue, and quickly lead the way out. First he had to get over this, and talk to Rhys about the spell. Talk to Rhys about the spell. He repeated in his head over and over. He repeated it so much he wasn’t even aware he had made it to the town house he used to reside in. The rooms that once held so much warmth and safety now made him anxious. Though he never took it off he still patted around his neck to make sure his amulet was still there, still hidden. The long corridor to where he knew he would encounter Feyre and Rhysand filled him with dread, the shadows warned him of the upcoming interrogation, which truly, he expected. Nonetheless… how much would he be able to say. How much should he reveal?

Feyre greeted him first, enveloping him in a warm hug he felt safe to return, “Azriel…We’re happy you could come see us.”

“I really just wanted to see Nyx, if that’s okay?” He could see the hurt in Feyre’s eyes, he was told how Elain’s face turned into a scowl, he could hear Amren scoffing as she sat on the floor across from Rhys, but he could also feel how Feyre was willing to accept his answer.

“Of course, its not okay.” Rhysand said, “You’ve been missing for months, then you decide to ignore your friends, your duties. Need I remind you that Bryaxis is still out there?” Of course not. Along with his order to stay away from one of the people he was friendly with, the fact he couldn’t find him so easily infuriated him. Nothing had ever stopped his shadows from discovery. It was as if whatever that thing was, the creature that seemed to haunt Cassian every time it was brought up…it terrified even the shadows that kept him company.

“Don’t you dare imply I haven’t been doing everything I can for this court.” No. Stop. Take a breath he told himself,

“I have continued my duties. There is nothing to report. Everything has been silent. I would request you not question my abilities.” Rhysand lips tightened, Feyre glaring at him screaming at him mentally to play nice. He mentally distanced himself, shutting down any emotion threatening to spill over.

“Stop. Please,” Rhysand’s voice softened, “You don’t have to speak so formally. I—we’ve never spoken to each other like that.”

“Right.” Azriel scoffed, “I think it’s best I remember my place. You are my high lord. I am just your spy master, and I will continue to do my duties for the Night Court. As I have been.”

“Rhysand…” Feyre use of his full name caught everyone’s attention but it did not deter her mate. Nesta glared, for someone who always judged how she reacted to others he was always quick to act just the same. Saying things, sometimes hurtful things, to mask his own hurt. Hypocrite. Nesta sneered when Rhysand glared in her direction.

“Very well, then you can tell me exactly where you were for those three months.”

“Rhys. Stop.” Cassian pleaded

“No. We deserve to know. Something happened while he was gone. If he was only doing his duties he should be able to tell us, right?” Amren said with a pinched smile

“He left because obviously someone doesn’t know when to leave things well enough alone.” Nesta glared at Rhysand, “He has never once proved to be disloyal to you or the rest of the Inner Circle you claim is your family.”

“I think I agree with Rhys…” Elain spoke up, “Its just—it does seem strange. And my visions, they couldn’t see you coming back or at all when you left.”

The shadows seemed to grow darker around him, hugging him, enveloping the space around him. No one missed this, everyone watched what he would say next. “I apologize, but I fail to see how that’s my fault. Since the last time you used my blade, you hadn’t used your ability as seer. Even then, I do not report to you.”

“I wasn—”

“Don’t talk to her that way. My abilities aren’t working with you either. Something happened, or you figured out how to protect yourself from daemati, which makes everything rather suspicious, does it not? I don’t need to remind you how delicate everything is right now.”

“No, you remind me very well.” Nesta and Cassian looked between each other. Of course, Feyre knew. In fact, everyone knew because Rhysand had been trying to convince everyone that this was how they could all help their friend.

“You found something.” Rhysand stated, he had yet to move from his seat.

“I found nothing!” Azriel voice rose higher than anyone had ever heard him speak, the shadows circling him, nervous at the amount of doubt aimed towards him.

“Az, could you tell us what happened…please. Whatever happened out there…if its bad we can help.” Rhys returned to pleading, trying to dig his friend out of whatever wall he had built up so strongly. Had he pushed him that far?

Azriel laughed dryly, they were getting nowhere. He was getting nowhere near any answers that could help his own personal quest. “Nothing happened. I was not lying when I say I found nothing. Are you so desperate to find something wrong?”

“You could just show me. Whatever you did to block me out—”

“Was not of my doing. And if I had the ability to block you, I would have done that long ago. Instead of you commanding me when its convenient for you or finding things I likely never wanted you to see.”

“Is that why you left? Because I ordered for you to do something to keep the peace between the autumn court?” Rhysand stood up taking a couple steps toward Azriel who remained immobile. Enough is enough, these kinds of cracks could not begin to unravel at the center of his realm. He did his best dammit. Is doing whats best for everyone around him. Azriel’s stubbornness helped no one.

“It is ironic how you always say we have free will until it is something you deem wrong, is all I’m saying. Lord Rhysand.” There was no expression on Azriels face, no fear. Just more indifference. “I don’t know where I was nor how I got there. I found nothing.”

“Az, you don’t have to…” Nesta reached out, but Azriel shrugged her off.

“He wants to know.” He turned back to face Rhysand and Amren who was now staring him down. “I don’t know how long I flew for, I just kept flying well past the faerie realms that seem to hide from the rest of Prythian. My wings froze after several days and when I woke up…it was in a strange place I have never heard of. It has protection spells similar to our own Velaris, but much stronger. The people there nursed me, fed me and then told me to go home. I traveled back the normal way.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell us about them?” Mor squeaked out, sneaking in after listening into the heated discussion, “You think we would hurt them?”

“We all have things we do not wish to speak about to others, do we not? You still do not talk about some of the events of the Autumn Court, and when Eris contradicts you neither I, nor anyone else question you.” Mor immediately stomps out, muttering about everyone needing to mind their business. No one could argue his point. Every one of them kept something deeply hidden within themselves. Rhysand refuses to talk about what he had to do to appease Amarantha. Nesta still hides why she was so hurt after the battle with Hybern, Elain sees things no one else sees, Amren was an entirely different being who gave them no information. While Azriel mostly wanted to keep Callista and her people safe, it was also better for his friends to know nothing. If something were to happen and they were to encounter more daemati, more people who had the ability to torture peoples thoughts.… they would have no information. And so long as he could somehow keep his amulet hidden he would be safe. Not that anything really contained him anyhow not since he was a child, not again. Never again.

“We would never—”

“I may not be daemati, but I know when someone is lying. Unless you know how to lower centuries of protection spells stronger than Velaris had, theres no point in trying to find them. The people there…they’re stuck. They cant leave and no one whose visited has been able to find it twice.”

“You actually believe that?” Amren snorted, “They told you that so you’d leave them alone.”

Azriel became silent. He wasn’t about to argue any further. A few weeks ago, he might have agreed with Amren, but the people there. They were prisoners, their cell was lovely and they’ve made do with what they could but regardless they were stuck. Never able to leave. Stagnant. He bowed his head and turned to go back to the house of wind. At least there he could get some peace and quiet. Nesta put her hand on his shoulder to stop him for going any farther.

“Did you get your answer or not?” Nesta demanded, Rhys was silent. His eyes landing on all of his friends waiting for an answer, waiting to take a side. A house divided would not stand, and he was only making it worse. He needed to time to think. Maybe listen to his High Lady and just apologize…no. He only need to apologized if he made a mistake, and the original order was not a mistake. Was Feyre right, he thought, is he only trying to preserve his pride? Should he leave his friend alone. How else could he help? Is that what he was doing, helping? Trying to maintain control of something just to keep his family safe? Feyre stared at her mate with both empathy and fury mixing inside of her. She took a deep breath and tried to make up for hurt words.

“Azriel, would you still like to see him? Nyx should be awake from his nap any moment.” Feyre asked

“If that’s okay with you.” Feyre smiled and led Azriel away.

“Well, that went well.” Amren chuckled at the chaos

“Whats your fucking problem Amren?” Cassian spat out

“You don’t think its weird?”

“You think everything is weird. You didn’t like Nestas powers either. But you and Rhys apparently always have the last word, right?” Cassian stared at Rhys daring him to argue. Nesta just grabbed his hand and followed Feyre. When they found her and Azriel they both stared at silently at the interaction between the Ilyrian and Nyx. Silent but so soft, so loving. Azriel sat him on his lap, staring at the boy with eyes that had been cloaked in misery for weeks, the shadows finally growing dimmer around him. The little boy seemed to be playing with how the shadows swirled and danced around him, both completely taken with the other.

“I still cant believe he likes you more.” Cassian joked, finally earning a smile from his friend

“Just wait, once he can fly and run around. He is going to prefer you. He’ll need someone to match his energy.” They all smiled at the thought of it. Feyre looked at the people in this room and her eyes began watering. Not so long ago the group was voting on what to do with Nesta, then they did the same when they were deciding to tell her about Nyx’s wings, now again here they all were voting, debating, on whether or not Azriel could be trusted. Azriel of course, noticed. “You all can agree with him if its easier. I don’t hate him, but right now…I need space and this is easier. You don’t have to fight him for my sake.”

This of course, only solidified who they were standing behind. “Please, I like arguing with Rhys. I’ve been doing it since I was dumped in the cauldron.”

“I’ve learned not to side against Nesta.” Cassian joked, Nesta pushed him and he brought her into him wrapping his arms around her from behind, “Besides, I get it. You cant control who you fall in love with. And the whole Autumn court thing…”

“Well, if it makes everyone feel better, since I’m sure they can hear. I’m leaving Elain alone. I thought I could have been her…but I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I am trying to figure everything out. Whats real and whats a result of me being alone? Thankful someone notices me, maybe? I was made aware of where I stood with Rhys that night. And I cant—I cant get over that right now.”

“You don’t have to.” Nesta says, “And you don’t have to figure out how you feel right now either. If that’s why you needed space then take the space. Let us know if we can help.”

“If Lucian had a choice between Elain and the woman his father killed, he would have chosen the latter. Being mates…it doesn’t always mean the two are a good fit. I mean look at Rhy’s parents.” Feyre says lowly, thinking about the sadness in Lucian’s eyes, the way he remembers how happy he had been. The pain that never left him, the guilt he would always carry over the weight at being the reason the love of his life had died. Now… well she never saw him, he wanted nothing to do with any of them. Probably trying to untangle his own feelings from what the mate bond placed on him. “Did you care for her then? Before you left?”

“Yes. The way she noticed my headaches, even if Nuala and Cerridwen told her.” He took a deep sigh, “I’ve been pining for Mor for centuries, she’s never once thought of that. No one had. She had shown me time and time again, she didn’t reciprocate… and that medicine….That medicine is what shifted things for me. Someone noticed me, but I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“Well. I’m not in love with you.” Nesta shrugged as everyone looked at her, bewildered, “I’m serious. The last solstice we were all together you got me that book light. And it was so simple but that gift meant a lot to me. You didn’t have to do that. But you’re kind. Elain is kind. If no one has shown you kindness like that its bound to bring up some emotions. And Elain is well… anyway shes kind. That’s who she is. I don’t know why she’d side with that guy but…just…just try and figure out what would make you happy.”

“They’re right. Being mates doesn’t mean much, I don’t think Nesta and I particularly liked each other when they forced her into the House of Wind. She became happy long before she came around to me at all, and even then I almost messed everything up.” Cassian thought back to when everyone was meant to keep Nesta’s real power quiet, he wouldn’t be able to do it. Not now. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Azriel smiled at his friend, happy after so many years of suffering plagued him. He could find something similar in Elain, if he wanted. Now that Feyre was on his side. So where did that leave Callista. Why was she still on his mind? Because they had unfinished business. “Nesta, you worked at the library for a bit right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you think theres any way I could find a way to undo a spell like the one we had here?”

“I don’t know… Gwyn would know better than me. I can ask her.”

Azriel can only nod. His energy depleted from the days events. The second Nyx is out of his arms he feels like retreating into himself. Nesta is quick to excuse herself and Cassian as she wants to start looing into the research, bored for something new to read. Feyre nodded ready for sometime alone with her mate, ready to figure out how to compromise without forcing everyone to choose sides again. Not again.

➽───────────────❥

“I forgot how big this place was.” Nesta grumbled, “We haven’t even touched a quarter of all the books having to do with Velaris.”

“Poor Azriel. This must be driving him crazy.” Gwyn said as she quickly scanned through another book before putting it back on the shelf. Nesta and Gwyn were the only ones still allowed to search after Azriel lost it after a couple months of finding nothing. He slammed one book down and Clotho made it clear he wasn’t welcome until the book was found.

“I think it bothers him more that Cassian is the one stuck babysitting.” Nesta joked.

“A lot of sparring I assume.” Nesta exaggeratedly nodded and the two had to stop themselves from laughing too loudly.  “Has he told you why he wants to figure out the spell so badly yet?”

“Ugh, no. I mean I know the whole being stuck really you know…resonates with him. But theres something else.”

“You mean someone else?”

“You think so too?”

“So does Emerie. Is she visiting soon?”

“Yes, I asked Azriel to ask her to come today. Her family is still hounding her for the shop. I get worried about her.”

“Me too.” They both work for a couple more hours before they head back to the house of wind to deliver the unfortunate news once again to their friend.”

Nesta’s heart breaks at the small glimmer of hope she sees in Azriel’s eyes dying every time she steps back into the room. She shakes her head and he nods in understanding. Then as always, excuses himself. Cassian and Emerie run to meet them. The reunion momentarily takes precedence.

“I’m helping tomorrow.” Emerie states.

“The three of you at once? Nothing will get done then.” Cassian joked.

Nesta pushes him, “Anything to report?”

“He is going out for a couple hours and then we both go to see Rhys to tell him the same thing, nothing. Its too quiet. Even Eris reached out to see if everything was alright.”

“I guess when you live forever, you have time to wait.” Nesta frowns

“Until then, lets try and have a good time. We can all play some games, get Azriel to participate. Maybe cheer him up.” Gwyn offered

“Sounds like a great idea.” Cassian agreed, “He listens to you, Nesta.”

“Well come with me. You two make yourselves comfortable, okay.” She squeezes her friend’s hands and goes off to find the shadowsinger. She knocks softly at first, “Hey, Az?”

When there was no answer Cassian knocked more urgently, but it pushed open easily. They couldn’t breathe any sigh of relief as they found Azriel standing in front of some kind door made of pure night. He didn’t move. Seemingly entranced by the shadows that he had always followed. A gentle hand startled him, causing him to bring his knife out immediately.

“Its just us.” Nesta whispered

“Put the knife down. Now.” Cassian words were filled with venom. Brother or not, no one was going to do anything to Nesta as long as he was around. But Azriel was quick to sheath his weapon.

“So-sorry. Its just…Sorry.” The shadows dispersed.

“Are you going to go back?” Nesta asked

“I don’t know if I can. I didn’t summon them. It’s like a door that shows up every day. Like something is calling me back but I can’t step through it.” Truth was he was desperate and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Have you tried?” Cassian asked

“I don’t want to be wrong. Or end up somewhere I shouldn’t be.”

“Only one way to find out right?” Nesta asked, “If you end up anywhere else, you should be able to come back right away, right?”

“I guess.” Azriel said, still dazed

“Go find her. Maybe she can figure out how the spell around Velaris works.”

“What?” Azriel asked, not completely shocked but still surprised Nesta had figured anything out.

“You said the spell is strong there, but you were able to travel out your usual way. If all they do is practice magic maybe she can figure it out for herself. I’ll deal with Rhys.” Nesta took a step back, and Cassian nodded moving as close as he possibly could to his mate.

“Go. We’ll come up with something.”

Azriel blinked. Slowly facing the shadows reaching towards him. Pleading with him to step through. He took a deep breath before taking a few steps forward, disappearing from his friends sight. They both looked at each other, hoping he would come back much sooner than the last time he disappeared.

When Azriel opened his eyes, he was back in the room he had woken up in last. It was dark, as if no one had been here since he left, if this place was as difficult to find as Callista had said he supposed it made sense. But the air was cold, immediately he felt something was wrong. The pendant seemed to thrum against his chest. He threw the door open, expecting to find everyone gone or worse, hurt. Perhaps his presence had attracted an unwanted visitor. He suddenly couldn’t breathe and he scrambled to escape the small room that seemed to be shrinking the longer he stayed in there. His could see every breath as he stepped through the frosty air. The tree seemed to light up the otherwise pitch black area. Azriel suddenly remembers Callista telling him about the evenings there and beautiful it was. She was right.

Small orbs of light spread throughout the trees seemed illuminated the intricate design of snow encasing every branch and leaf. The wind seemed to whistle through the ice like crystals, the sound of bells tinkling through the air. The ice swirled around the homes of the faeries living inside, several of them lit up themselves as the people inside moved about, completely unaware of his presence. He looked down to the forest floor, children were having a snowball fight. His heart hurts at the thought of missing his own tradition several months ago. Still wondering if he had made the right choice then, wondering if this was the right choice now? He surveyed the people, the older fae were waving their hands, bending snow into shapes around them.

Azriels eyes stopped when he saw the wings. The pinks that melted into the wing. The softest sunburst gleam that made her stand out. She belonged in the dawn court, he thought. He could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He pressed his eyes shut, forced himself to breathe before he would go down to talk to her. When he opened them again she was gone, he heard the fluttering behind him before his shadows had a chance to warn him of anything.

“Azriel?”

“I did say I would find a way back here.”  Callista tackled him into a hug, almost unseating his footing. He found himself burying his head into her hair, breathing in her perfume that brought him a surprising amount of comfort. His arms gently went around her waist, his hands resting on her shoulder blades, so delicate, so careful to not ruin her wings.

“I cant believe you actually did it.” She laughed as she pulled away.

Azriel smiled, trying to hide his disappointment at the distance Callista creates as she pulls away. “How long has it been here?”

“Here? Its been years?”

“Years?” Azriel assumed time would continue to drag here. He wondered how long a day would last here, “I’m sorry. Its only been a few months where I’m from. I was trying to find a way to figure out the spell surrounding this place.”

Callista’s face grew distant. When she could finally look away she cursed whatever was holding them here, “I hate this place.”

“I cant stay. I don’t understand it, but I had been missing several months when I went back the first time. Will you come with me? Maybe we could figure out a way to get everyone else out of here.”

“We do not know if I will be able to leave.”

“That’s true. But we wont know until we try.”

“I suppose not.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face, “Come with me. I need to alert some of others.”

“Syra?”

Callista’s face darkens, “No. Not her. Come on.”

Azriel doesn’t hesitate to grab her hand this time and flies down to where most of the children had gathered. She lets go only to whisper to one of the kids who quickly flew off somewhere Azriel couldn’t find. The second he’s out of sight Callista comes back up next to him and continues to hold his hand.

“Scout is our fastest flier. He likes delivering important messages. Should I get you some warmer clothes?”

Azriel quickly shakes his head, unaware how stiff his fingers are becoming or how the tip of his nose began reddening ever so slightly. In fact, he felt rather warm, his cheeks deepening due to the mix of sharp wind and his own blush at how openly affectionate Callista was. Perhaps it was in her nature. He noticed several other faeries not shying from the touch of the fae around them. Scout was quick to come, followed by several more faeries, all much more weathered than Callista and himself. She squeezed her his hand before letting go to address them.

“What is this we hear of you leaving?” One of the oldest there began

“No one has ever made it back, Tommin. This is a good sign. We could figure out how to get out of here.”

“We are perfectly fine here.”

“It could be better. Its not to say as if we can never come back.” Azriel studied every elder intensely yet only one seemed nervous. The others all strangely stoic, unworried about one of their own. They didn’t believe she could leave. Tommin continued to angrily speak at Callista. For her own part, she seemed indifferent to his ranting. As if shes used to all the irades around here.

“And if you cant leave? What if you get stuck in some kind of limbo in your attempt to leave?”

“That’s better than being a prisoner.”

“If we cant figure out how to lower the shield I can continue teleporting in. I’ll take as many as I can.” Azriel chimed in hoping to help.

“Not all of us feel the need to leave.”

“Great. Then you wont mind letting the ones go that do want to leave, right?”

“Callista. You have to stay, he can try with anyone else first.” Tommin turned to pleading, Azriel could hear his heartrate increase. He was hiding something. The elders eyes the stranger as the shadows seemed to grow around him, circling him in preparation for escape. Callista couldn’t understand the hesitation with her being the one not being allowed to go. No one had ever stopped her from trying before, why now? With so close of a guarantee. With so close of an answer.

“I’m leaving.” Callista walked back until she reached Azriel, she looked at him and he nodded. Wrapping his arm around his waist.

“Hold on tight,--”

“Callista. Stop!”

“Don’t.”

Several voices began to protest, but Azriel ignored them, “Don’t look.”

His voice was suddenly gravely serious. It was not a request, but a demand. AN order not to look at whatever was about to happen. Callista nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and hiding her face in the crook of his head. Azriel had his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against him. The darkness enveloped them, the screams growing fainter by the second. She remained silent, not daring to hope for anything short of a miracle.  She could only grip tighter, comforted by Azriel’s reassuring squeeze. The shadow traveling literally took her breath away, it was to induce panic inside of her, her stomach seemed to be sinking deeper into her body. Suddenly, everything stopped. Her hair finally falling back down around her. She didn’t move, afraid that when she opened her eyes she would be right back where she started.

Azriel pressed his lips against her temple, trying his best not to overwhelm her, “We’re here.”

Callista releases the air she was holding back in her lungs. Prying herself off of him in disbelief. She immediately wants to rush to the window but Azriel is quick to grab her arm. “What are you doing?”

“Not yet. You remember the friend I told you about? He’s almost here. You have to wait just a little longer. It will be very overwhelming. Believe me, please.”

She knew he was right. It didn’t make things easier but he was right, “How do you know?”

“I have some help.” He smirked, “Stay here, I will have some friends get you some more comfortable clothes. They will lead you down to meet everyone. I would like to show you around, if that’s okay…”

“I’ll wait to sneak a peek.” She pauses as he begins to exit the room she was left in. Callista begins feeling incomplete. Whatever help she had offered him couldn’t compare to what he had done for her. Nothing would ever compare to this. Freedom. She was finally free. The very air she breathed felt different, lighter. “Azriel!”

He freezes, worried she wants to return already. “Is everything okay.”

“Yes…its just…thank you.”

He offered her a smile and slightly bowed his head. Swallowing the lump in his throat as he readied himself to face his friends. His high lord. This was not going to be easy. Everyone was there. Even Gwyn and Emerie had come back.

They all stared as he entered the room. Before Rhysand could even begin questioning Azriel turned to Cassian. “How long?”

“Only a few days this time.”

He breathed a sigh of relief thanking whatever entity was out there that nothing happened while he was gone. It had only been a few days, no wonder the Valkyries were still here. No war, no deaths. Otherwise, Rhysand would have made his presence known immediately. He was still unhappy, but his curiosity got the better of him. That and he was glad that Azriel decided to come back at all.

“We hear you brought a visitor.” Rhysand starts.

“Yes, she will be joining us soon. She’s getting some new clothes. Nuala and Cerridwen are helping her right now.”

“Good, we want to make our guests feel welcome. Right, Rhys?”

He gritted his teeth but agreed, “Of course, Feyre darling. Of course, we still have some questions for her.”

“Are you planning on interrogating her? She has never known anything outside her home. Do you have to do it now?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Nesta said, “You went to get her to learn more about the spell around Velaris. Right? Shes done nothing to warrant an interrogation. We are simply going to meet her. Shes a guest.”

“Why don’t we all eat dinner? We can just meet eachother.” Feyre agreed

“We should ask why the hell she kept him there for months. She could have enchanted you? Are you seriously that dense?” Amren scoffed, “Why cant Rhys use his abilities on her?”

That was news to Azriel. “I told you her whole kingdom was shielded even more heavily than Velaris. It probably extends to the people there.”

“Then you should take us all there.” Amren glared, trying to get a rise out of Azriel. “To be immune from those powers would be very beneficial to our cause, no?”

“And if when we come back the war has come and gone? I was gone for days and when I returned it had been months. I wasn’t even there a full day this last time, and its been days. Callista said it had been years since I had left. Its too big a risk.”

“And the only way there is through Azriel.” Rhys states, “Unfortunately, he is right. But there’s a chance this Callista knows more than she lets on. We will try and figure out how much she knows.”

“Well, where is she?” Mor asks, very clearly annoyed. “Lets get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” Callista walks into the living area, the presence of her magnificent wings drawing gasps from most everyone, Nesta and Mors eyes widened, Cassians mouths dropped, the only one who maintained an uninterested poker face was Rhysand and Amren. Callista for her part was shocked she was the only one among company with wings at all. She stepped beside Azriel, he noticed she wore a soft, pale pastel green dress. It was adorned with flowers: pinks, yellows, and purples to compliment her wings. It flowed out at the skirt, with the sleeves swooping around her shoulders. Her long hair almost flowed to her waist. No one had so effortlessly been born a High Fae. Azriel couldn’t stop staring. She looked as ethereal as the first day he had seen her.

“What?’

“You look lovely.” Azriel said softly, a small smile growing on Callistas face.

“Thank you.” She turned to face everyone else, she slightly curtsied in their direction. “And thank you for having me. I apologize for dropping in so unexpectedly.”

“Lets eat, theres a lot to discuss.” The high lord stands up, “I apologize if this seems like a lot on your first day here.”

“You must be Rhysand. I don’t mind answering any questions. I have nothing to hide.”

Another scoff from Amren, still sitting on the floor, “Yeah. Right.”

This shakes Nesta out of her daze, “I’m Nesta. Will you please join us?”

Everyone stares at the interaction between Callista and Rhysand. Neither of them backing down from each other. Rhysand had no power to keep the newcomer in place. She was a threat. And almost every person there could agree that they would need to watch her. Nesta’s request brings out a dazzling smile from their unexpected guest.

“I would love to. Can I help in any way?”

“The food will be ready by the time we walk into the dining room.” Nesta assured her, “Can I sit by you?”

“Yes, I think I would feel safer that way actually.” This response gets a good laugh out of Gwyn, Emerie, and Cassian. Azriel moves quietly, suddenly feeling like no longer speaking. Exhausted. He made sure to tell Nuala and Cerridwen to ensure all of the curtains were not drawn. Tired as he was, he was anxious to show his world to Callista. He wondered when he would be able to talk to her alone.

“She seems nice, Az.” Feyre whispers as squeezes her arm before joining hands with her own mate. Azriel can hear the hushed ‘be nice,’ she hisses at Rhysand. Azriel stops when Cassian holds him back behind everyone.

“Don’t let them treat her like Nesta. I failed her. A lot. I’m still trying to make it up to her. But…just—don’t do what I did.”

“I won’t.” He realizes he doesn’t protest at the implications that Callista was his Nesta. This was not the time. Azriel decides to sit next to Rhys after seeing the other seat next to Callista. Amren was across from her, studying or glaring the entire time. Almost unblinking.

“So, Callista. How did you get Azriel to stay away for so long? Did he hurt himself that badly?” Mor asked in her most saccharine voice

“His wings were not in the best shape. He was asleep for several days. We didn’t want to rush the healing process or have it healed in correctly. He left the same day he woke up. But time does move differently where I come from.”

“And how would you know that? If you supposedly cant leave?”

Callista’s eyes seem to water for a split second, “I told Azriel once that we had a man stay with us for years. More than a decade. My friend he…he fell in love with him. One day the man became frantic, worried about his wife. A wife we had no idea existed. He left that day, but my friend demanded he write him. That he respond to a letter that would find him when he was home. According to one of the letters, when he returned only a week has passed. No one had even begun to worry about him. He had aged and his wife doubted he was the same person who had left for whatever battle he had gone to fight. The second time my friend sent a letter, it took him too long. He sent a long confession against our conservations. Three days passed…When we got a reply it was from a man claiming to be the son of the man who had found us. He had died three years prior. We never sent any more letters. I cannot claim to understand how time seems to move so curiously.”

“Did he fall through the sky too?” Amren  pouted her lips as she asked, Azriel clenched his fists at her unnecessary cruelness.

“No. He was not fae. He was a human. Washed up in one of the riverbanks. We never know how they get there, nor how they leave. Except Azriel no one has come back to let us know personally. Up until he came back, I half guessed that letter was just a way of letting  my friend down easily.” Not once did she seem even slightly bothered by the questions, impressing almost everyone and infuriating the main instigator.

“So, what do you know?” Amren pressed

“Enough.” Azriel voice cut through like a knife, “This is not an interrogation. Let her eat.”

“Its alright. I suppose it all does seem strange. But its all I know. All I’ve known. But if you plan on questioning me, I deserve the same courtesy, correct? Or are the people in this circle you speak of the only ones allowed to speak?”

“Wh—” Amren is about to begin yelling but Callista refuses to be talked over

“I’ll even ask the same questions. Where are you from? How did you get there? What do you know about that world? Please, I’m very curious.” She is only staring at Amren as if she knows exactly what Amren is. She is about to respond but Callista almost immediately turns to Mor, “And you, you claim I enchanted him? Could I not ask you the same? Why have you kept him so close after seeing the pain he was in, keeping him close enough to get his hopes up?”

Mor lips tightens as she suddenly stabs some food on her plate with her fork. Callista shrugs and begins eating. Cassian can only stare in shock, his hand covers his mouth. Hoping it stops him from saying some joke that would get either lady from the inner circle angry at him. Nesta and the Valkyries share a look, Elain is silent, never looking up from her plate.

“Ignore them Callista, I do.” Nesta said as she continued eating. “Emerie, tell me. Hows the business going at the Ilyrian camp? Is your uncle still bothering you? Should we just take care of him?”

“Oh Gods, no. Not yet. They cant do much anymore. What with Cassian constantly checking on the camp and making sure everyone is at least being respectful.” The conversation continues for a while to give the poor girl a chance to recover before more questions inevitably came her way. Soon after everyone introduced themselves and how they met eachother. Callista stored everything to memory, determined to show them that at the very least, she was polite enough to genuinely care. And she asked as many questions as she could. Their stories were interesting and it was nice to hear literally anything new after a lifetime of hearing the same stories over and over. Callista worried she would have to go back. She could never go back, not now that she knew there was so many things that were possible. She hoped Azriel would finally allow her to take a look at the world so far away from her own.

Azriel remained silent. Watching to ensure everything goes smoothly. Rhysand only asks one question, “Callista, Azriel said the magic surrounding your home was stronger than anything he had seen. What kind of magic protects it?”

“If I knew I would have figured out a way to remove it. My magic mainly lies in healing, and I can hide things quite well. Azriel called it a glamour? But I assume you’re asking because you also want to try and figure out why you cannot do the mind reading thing I’ve heard about. I don’t know why something would protect me from that.”

Azriels eyes shoot up at her. The words were deliberate. She was not lying but omitting very key details. She takes another bite of food and smirks at him flipping her hair to one side, a gleam of gold flashes ever so slightly. She had come prepared. Somehow, Syra had given her some kind jewelry to prevent Rhysand from spying on her private thoughts. The silence around them is almost deafening, only the sounds of silverware scraping echoes through the room.

Azriel lightly cleared his throat, “Well. This was great but if you’ll excuse me. I did promise Callista I would show her around for a bit.”

She couldn’t stand up any quicker, “Can we?”

“Az, you should start at the training pad.” Nesta nods in the general direction before standing up herself, “We will have to talk more tomorrow, Callista.”

“I’d like that.” Callista smiled warmly and wrapped her arm around Azriels as they exited the room.

Nesta returned the smile and grabbed Emerie and Gwyn, simply leaving the dinner and the guests that imposed themselves on it. Cassian only cleared his throat, “Well…that’s that.”

“She was nice.” Feyre tried to continue some sort of discussion

“Sure.” Mor scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Because you were so warm and inviting?” Cassian joked

“Wasn’t I?” She rolled her yes but smiled at her friend, she knew she didn’t make it easy on either of the Ilyrians special ‘friends.’ She wondered how long they were all going to ignore how close the two had become acquainted. Or if they were going to bring it up. She still didn’t like the outsider, but she could respect Callista standing up for herself.

“I don’t trust her.” Amren crosses her arms.

“You don’t trust anyone.” Feyre said, “No one can be trusted with information as far as your concerned. I think you’ve been wrong before. With me and Nesta.”

“I wasn’t wrong.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her.” Rhysand stood, “We will give them a couple days before we ask her to try and figure out the spell.”

“What if she wants to stay with him?” Cassian asked a little too seriously

“We will discuss that when it comes to that.”

“He’ll never forgive you if you don’t let her stay. He will leave.” Cassian stared down his brother, and got a nod in response before he headed out with Feyre and Elain. The latter still silent, still analyzing tonights events.

➽───────────────❥

Azriel led Callista to the stairway up to the training pad, stopping right before they headed outside. “You have one?”

“Yes. Syra made one for me right after you left. I haven’t taken it off since.” She pulled hers out, the metal string holding the small circular gem that almost looked too thin. As if touching it would cause it to crumble. The gem also looked completely different. It was a blinding white, that seemed to glow as she held it up. As if a star had been captured in the small circle. Azriel pulled his own out to compare, still pitch black. He could swear something was moving inside of his but quickly put it back. Not wanting to over think anything else right now.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” She takes a deep breath as Azriel opens the door. Her mouth drops at the endless sea of stars. How he ever let her go on about her home being beautiful at night when this is what he fell asleep to should be criminal. She must have looked so foolish. She didn’t care. She would owe him the rest of her existence. Azriel could only stare at her. The stars shining in her eyes, he could only hope she would allow him to be the one who would show her the rest of Prythian.

“Our home is most beautiful at night too.”

“Theres no comparison. I cant believe you kept a straight face.” She laughed and reached for his hand, “They look so close.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, only takes her hand as she walks closer to the edge of the pad. “Have you ever flown with this much space?”

“No.” She says, completely shocked by her own lack of realization, “But I’m about to.” She squeezes his hand before running to the end and jumping off the mountain. Azriel has a moment of panic before she flies back up, laughing at how far free her wings could spread. Not having to worry about the thicket of trees possibly stopping or snagging her wings. She had become quite adept in maneuvering around all of the obstacles in her home. The lack of obstacles made her giddy. Absolutely filled with a joy she could have never imagined.

Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie eventually joined Azriel out on the training pad. Nesta stepped beside him, “Why aren’t you flying with her?” She hissed under her breath.

I don’t want to bother her, Azriel thought before Callista landed before them. “Fly with me! Is there anyway we can take Nesta and Gwyn?”

“Actually I cant.” Emerie said taking a step back.

“I’m sorry, I didn—”

“No! I would love to but… I haven’t been able to for a while.” She turned to show her clipped Ilyrian wings. Callista’s face grew serious

“Who did that to you.”

“My father. Hes gone now, but…”

“But nothing. Do you miss it? The flying?” Nesta was ready to yell at her for pushing her friend but Cassian put his hand on her, gesturing for her to wait.

“Everyday.” Emerie replied

Callista turned to Azriel, “Be ready to catch me, okay?”

She walked up to Emery, placing one of her hands on her wing, and one on her arm. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Callista didn’t answer. She began murmuring under her breath, her own wings glowing a soft pink. Emerie’s own wings seemed to glow. Her head whipped back and forth as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She suddenly let out a gasp, a slight moan leaving her lips as her eyes grew wide.

“Emerie!” Gwyn and Nesta cried

Callista released and took a shaky breath before stepping backwards. Everyone rushed towards Emerie before she spread out her wings. Nesta took a step back as her friend fully stretched her wings, not a hint of pain in sight. Gwyn immediately had her arms wrapped around her friends neck, still in disbelief that her wings felt whole again. Azriel could only stare in shock as everyone inspected Emeries wings. Cassian began asking him how it was even possible. He couldn’t answer. This kind of healing was unheard of. It was impossible to heal clipped wings. It should be impossible. He opened his mouth to ask her how she learned this kind of magic, how long would it last, did she ever have to do this before?

The shadows half whispered half screamed at him to pay attention, his head whipped to see Callista losing consciousness and falling to the ground.

Taglist: @bubybubsters @mich0731 @azziessidehoe @cleverzonkwombatsludge

[whumpshaped]

prev

tw religious whump, aftermath of trauma, forced recovery, dubious whumper turned caretaker

Whumper pulled back after a few seconds, letting out a quiet sigh. The human, as expected, looked absolutely pitiful and broken. Unfortunately, centuries of seeking revenge and punishing the insolent had killed every ounce of pride or enjoyment they'd used to derive from it.

They watched as the sentience slowly returned to the human, for better or for worse, and they quickly curled up into a trembling ball of confusion and anguish. The same sight, the same sounds, the same reaction... Whumper found no pleasure in it anymore. It was boring, it was more of an obligation they'd placed upon themself than anything else.

They felt a pang of... something, deep within their soul. It wasn't guilt. Was it? No, it was something different. They didn't feel anything just staring down at the broken human, but...

No, they shouldn't have been thinking about these things. It was truly odd for a god to be thinking such thoughts. Undesirable.

But they couldn't deny that those thoughts rekindled a fire inside of them. A fire of long lost excitement. It would've been something new, something different...

Why should they deny themself the thrill?

"Get up, mortal."

The human didn't move. They even covered their ears, like some petulant child who refused to listen. It was very clear now; their desire to correct was much greated than their desire to destroy completely.

"Get up," they repeated, this time pushing the command directly into the human's thoughts. It only got them a pathetic whimper. "You have sinned against me and I have punished you for it. I am offering you a chance to start over. To lead a life of devotion and worship instead of ridiculous stunts."

"Stop tormenting me," they begged desperately. "Leave me! Please! Go to your followers, they're way more deserving of your attention, just– just leave me alone..."

Whumper slowly lowered themself to the ground next to the human, finding themself infinitely captivated by this display of useless defiance. Clearly, the human was simply afraid, and for good reason. But refusing divine help after an encounter like this was as good as suicide. They needed help.

"You don't have a choice," they said simply. "I know the consequences of my punishments very well, yet I have never once brought a mortal back from the brink of devastating madness. I wish to do that now. And I will, no matter your opinion on the matter."

Taking away the illusion of choice seemed to work. The human looked up at them with tear-filled eyes, still shaking in fear. "M-more punishments..?"

"Certainly, if you continue to hinder my plans. But not if you stay obedient, no." They paused, letting the words sink in before repeating their order. "Get up, now. I will give you a life fuller than the one you've lost."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[atxxzist]

broken | c.s (08)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 7.7k

warning: i don't want to spoil the contents so pls go in with a guarded mind and stop reading immediately if anything makes you uncomfortable!!!

"lotte world! oh, and, we can finally visit cheonggyecheon!" mingi preaches excitedly from the other line, adding onto the ongoing list of never-ending things to do for the summer.

"yeah yeah, that sounds fun," you mumble, voice coming off disinterested because you've been circulating the small space of your room for the last five minutes looking for the only hair tie you have left.

you swear you had put it next to the nightstand.

"are you like not excited? we're gonna be free bitches for an entire summer!" his tone filled with disbelief, a scoff that accompanies it after.

"no, no. i am. just--ah!" you find the last survivor of the collection of hair ties on the floor just right next to your bed, picking it up to twirl it around your finger.

"are you literally having this conversation with me mid-orgasm?"

"pfft!" you blow, standing up on your toes to grab the comb on the bed before walking to the mirror on yuna's side of the room that has really come in handy. "i was looking for a hair tie to do my hair."

"oh, and what for? on this weekend after the semester ended and you have no work for the entire summer, huh?" his irritating and nosy voice vibrates the sheet of your bed where your phone is also at, you having to roll your eyes at the remark.

"so i can come up to your room and beat the living shit out of you for always sticking your nose in my business."

"ooohh!" he sings with exaggerated fear. "is this your way of saying you're gonna get laid tonight? a little end of the semester celebration? has the city finally changed you?"

"no," you answer, snapping your hair into a half ponytail before walking over to pick up your phone. "i'm gonna visit the cafe like a peasant. now before you make me late, create a google doc or something and i'll add to the list when i have something."

"fine. but we're doing it in comic sans, color-coded!"

you roll your eyes, muttering a "whatever" before cutting the line.

you catch yourself in yuna's mirror again after turning, and you honestly don't know why you're all this dressed up either. you've been to the place plenty of times before and you've definitely been there with yeosang as well.

the amount of coincidences still following you allowed for a run-in with him just the day before, having told him with eager lips about the exam score you got, later with an anticipated gaze about how this is going to work.

you suppose the cafe being the place of choice isn't a surprise.

he gets there before you, his hand that raises slightly when he sees you enter. it's a smaller table located in the center, and you begin making way to it, your sneakers gliding against the flooring.

"hey," you both exchange as you take the seat across him, a short lapse of silence after that is broken by him.

"want to order something?" he asks, eyes boring into yours.

"sure." you nod.

after picking your drinks and food of choice, yeosang offering to go up to the register, the silence reenters when he takes his seat. your gaze that tries to avoid his and his that tries to stir away from keeping them trained on you too long. he thinks you look nice.

in the half ponytail, white crop top tucked under a pink cardigan and sneakers with socks. he don't think he's ever seen in a skirt before, but it suits you. and if that's makeup you have on, he's not sure he's able to tell. you look about the same.

"so..." he starts again.

you shyly look up at him, clearing your throat before replying with the same aloofness of "so..." a quick second of nothing before you two burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation, your leg lightly brushing his under the table.

"sorry," he mumbles, a smile on his face.

"me too," you say, "just... still trying to get used to it."

still trying to get used to the new feeling when you're around him; one that's not so hostile but actually very welcoming and new--one you haven't gotten from anyone else but mingi and yunho.

he chuckles lightly and nod, the feeling being very much mutual after all.

"well, i'm glad you passed," he brings up, digging for anything to talk about and break the tension a little.

"yeah. it wasn't easy."

"but you did it. maybe you really do have it in you." his tone very lighthearted.

you brush it off with a scoff.

"not really. i just couldn't wait to be done with the damn semester so i'll never have to attend another session of that class."

he laughs a deep chuckle and you have to dismiss how smooth it sounds to ears; how comforting and familiar it's starting to become.

"geez, only first semester and you're already getting beat down? come on, you still have a semester and three more years."

"gosh, don't even remind me." you cross your arms and fall back onto the chair, yeosang releasing another laughter at the pure distaste in your voice at the topic.

"you don't look and sound like you enjoy the major very much. why not change it?"

something in you light up at that. change your major? you actually haven't thought of that, but the more the idea lingers, the more you question why you haven't thought of that.

it's a lesson learned that just because you're a little more techy than your friends since your parents practically neglected you (so you had to seek out any other source of entertainment), it doesn't mean you were destined to work in the field of technology or whatever. simply only having basic surface knowledge won't cut it.

it took a semester (maybe less) for you to come to terms with that. but better now than later.

"well, even if i change it, i wouldn't even know what to."

"you can always just take the core classes first and then decide after."

you hum out a low note and actually consider the possibility for a few seconds, until the person behind the counter calls yeosang's name and you're interrupted, watching as he stands to head to the front, you being slow to get up and follow behind him in case he needs help.

the entirety of you being here the past couple of months and you honestly didn't even know they served other smaller dishes like tteokbokki and even snacks you'd usually find at street food stalls.

but it's nice. just like this. you and yeosang sharing a drink and snack while carrying on small conversations that gets easier as the time pass. there's no pressure to please or entertain him, and he doesn't seem like he expects any. like he's doing all of this because he wants to, and you can't help but to let a small drop of tear prick your lower lash in hope he won't notice.

because you're not very used to anyone besides your friends, let alone a guy, who does something for you if not for his own benefit. you made that mistake not once, but twice.

not sure if you're even deserving of someone like yeosang who's been the victim of your lows and outbursts, but now the one to conjure up a rare, foreign feeling that brings out a small smile that settles on your lips.

yeosang sees the somewhat conflicted, hard-to-read expression on your face when he looks up from his food, asking in a quiet, concerned voice, "you okay?"

you chuckle lowly, a light clog in your throat and nod.

"i'm good."

~

"so, earlier, you mentioned possibly opting out of the current major but having no idea what you want to do after," yeosang is the first to speak as soon as you both leave the place, the orange tone painting the sky once again.

"yeah..." you reply.

"maybe think about other hobbies, or well... what do you like to do? what are you good at?"

you ponder the question; think back to your early teen years spent helping your aunt around the house, getting dragged into mingi's and yunho's shenanigans, play stupid pranks on one another and beat them at the occasional games when you paid mingi visits--and wow, what the fuck do you even like to do? what are you good at?

you don't even excel at anything specific, too, like yuna in art, or yeosang with computers. it's awful, the sinking realization that you are nothing special.

"i write? a little bit?" you answer, not the slightest confident in the answer. because who are you kidding. you're no hongjoong and you can barely even string a coherent sentence together.

you're not even consistent, unable to recall the last time you wrote in the journal, and it was started for all the wrong reasons.

yeosang nod, the both of your footsteps in sync.

"you can start there, then," he attempts, able to read the tone about just how unsure you are.

the air goes hushed and you fidget a little in spot before raising your voice again. "i don't know. i don't even think i'm good at it, and it's only been recent that i started writing. plus, it's not even like a story or whatever. i only write in a journal and honestly, i'm not even sure what the hell i've been writing."

he snickers, finding something so amusing about it. you shoot daggers at him.

"what?"

"you said you only started recently so of course you're not gonna be great. it takes time and efforts to perfect a craft. if you like it, there's no reason for you to not consider it at least."

he continues, "take the next semester or even year to think about it. i'm sure you'll figure something out."

you scoff, even pout. that still takes time, too--kang yeosang actually sounding reasonable and like he doesn't hate your guts.

"i think i like it better when you just insult me and go on your day."

he laughs and shakes his head, your gaze lingering on the curve of his lips longer than you should. you think he has a really nice pretty smile.

"but we're way past that point now, right?" his voice raising in pitch as to exaggerate the overall friendliness.

"right," you reply, same energy and all, until it hits you again. "oh!"

he seems taken aback by the high volume and snaps to you, curiosity in his reaction.

"that thing we agreed on," you say, a little too excited for your own good, yeosang's chest deflating with disappointment in return that puts a frown on your lips.

"oh come now, you weren't hoping i would forget?"

he shrugs and keep his gaze ahead, muttering back in such a nonchalant tone, "that might've been the idea."

you frown even more, whipping your head around and letting yeosang take the next couple of steps by himself before attention landing on the bench facing the street just a few feet away.

you're fast to jog up and swoop him away by the arm, using it to drag his entire body until it plops down onto the bench with you, his doe eyes staring back, and it's only until then that you realize you're still holding on.

"sorry," you mumble, releasing the captive arm as it slips down to hit the empty space between you two.

"you're good," he assures, and even that sounds awkward, too. a short silence that hangs before you clear your throat and revert the topic back, even daring to scoot yourself a little closer. since you guys are kind of friends now, right?

"what i was saying was... are you ready to tell me now?"

he turns the other way to scoff. "oh, you really want to know, huh?"

"well..." you trail off your tongue, letting the word roll around long enough till continuing on, "you kind of promised me."

"well..." he mimics the way you did it, "technically--"

"--oh," you cut in, your voice full of that playfulness that is strange in the presence of yeosang. "or are you a coward?"

"tsk!" he dismiss, trying to bite back a snicker that wants out because you're being a bit over-the-top right now... in a somewhat endearing way, that is. so eager to hear about his story that he kind of loosely pledged to tell only after you fulfill the 'deal'.

not that he ever doubted you would do well; he just didn't think you'd actually be so passionate about the entire bargain, it even being the first thing to be brought up when he ran into you outside the dorm building.

"me? coward? never," he brushes off, a smug but lighthearted act that brings a giggle from you.

"okay, then... tell me." you perk up, lips curled and eyes blinking his direction, way too thrilled for this.

his gaze drop to your lips for a second and he has to detach immediately, shaking the thought off.

"it's just... i don't know." he tries laughing it off. "you're going to think it's stupid."

you squint, tilting your head and frowning.

"why would it be stupid? i mean, i'm not sure what it's gonna be about, but i'll listen. whether you think it's stupid or not."

but judging from how he's acting, it looks like it might be something more personal than you initially thought; now starting to feel the tiniest bit of guilt for bothering him so much about it.

“maybe we can compromise with something else,” you offer an alternative but he rejects with a shake of his head.

"i'll tell you. just--you don't make fun of me or anything."

you chuckle. "i won't."

it goes quiet as yeosang prep himself up and try to muster how to start such a tragic tale. he thinks it's tragic, at least on his end. he's never shared it with anyone before; only those who were once close to him knew.

and for some reason, he feels an odd sense of trust in you. enough for you to be the first person that he's considered actually opening up to, regarding the topic.

"well," he starts, your full attention already on the first word. "i grew up in a small neighborhood; everyone knowing everyone kind of thing."

you nod, even humming quietly to let him know he's good to go on.

"so you know, like... there wasn't a lot of other kids my age and it was hard to make friends. but a girl, a year older than me... we became friends or something, you could say."

and if the way your eyes swell doesn't give away how immersed you already are, you don't know what will. because you hadn't expect kang yeosang's 'sob story' as he said it, would be about a girl.

"and this is going to be cliche as hell, but indeed i was in love with her. for the longest time."

he has removed his gaze from yours a long time ago, settling to watch the busy cars maneuvering through the streets instead. as if the retelling of this story is something to be embarrassed of. but you would beg to differ.

"i grew up with her, went through a ton of shit with her--meaning i also watched her fall in love with so many guys. maybe it wasn't love, i don't fucking know. we were young and stupid. but i sure hell did wanted to be one of them."

he takes a short breather before going on, "and it came true. i was one of them. well, or i thought i was. beginning of my junior year, she, for some reason, finally gave me a chance. oh... i was so happy... the day we became 'official'. i can't even recall any other time i was happier."

"and it's stupid because, thinking back, it was obvious she only did it out of pity. and maybe that's not a good enough reason to hate her; heck, i even started feeling bad for a moment just thinking back because i was such a fucking simp and probably annoyed the living hell out of her. but what i do hate her for, is for completely ghosting me."

"i could give less shit about the fact that i only found out she broke up with me through a mutual, or that only a month after, she started going out with a friend who'd always talk the maddest shit about her and why we shouldn't be together. no. it's the fact i never got any closure. paid her family a visit and was told she left for seoul literally the day before. no notice. no nothing. not even a 'fuck you, don't you ever come into my life again'. and maybe i don't deserve a closure, i wasn't much better by any means. but i sure can be bitter about it, and i guess here's me being bitter."

he finally turns to you, taking in your expression and feeling like he has to clarify some points.

"i didn't come to seoul in hope of sweeping her by her feet again or whatever. i just wanted to get away from the old city and kind of just... i don't know, try to find myself?"

you nod in acknowledgement. "no, i totally understand. i'm sorry to hear, though. but it really does sound like she had a big impact on you."

yeosang chuckles dryly in return; a smaller, somewhat sad smile gracing his lips after.

"i wish i could say you're wrong, and i wish i would mean it when i say i hate her. but like i said before, i can't recall any other time i was happier. in some ways, she made me a better person. it's complicated. i feel like i'm contradicting myself at this point."

your snicker directed at the last comment, assuring him with a shake of your head.

"you're good. but honestly, i never would've pegged you for someone romantic."

a scoff is what leaves him; you raising a brow in turn of what he's going to say.

"i'm not romantic. just realistic, i think. if i were to open my heart to someone, i'd want them to treasure it; to do the same back. which is why i am a lot more wary nowadays. i'd want to get to know that person really well first."

but you definitely still think he's a little bit of a romantic, he might not even realize it.

"because there's a different kind of pain that comes from loving someone who's out of your reach."

the amusement on you drops, the corners of your mouth falling downward at such a statement that if you mope about it long enough, you will see just how awfully relatable it is. but clasping it shut for a few seconds too long, all you say is, "fair enough."

"yeah... but anyways. that's my story. now it's your turn."

you glare at him through the pinched brows and wrinkles on your forehead.

"i don't remember that being apart of the deal."

"oh, forget the deal!" he waves off. "let's just talk. give me something tragic."

tragic? where would you even start with that? you think the entirety of your life has been a series of unfortunate, tragic events one after another; beginning with your parents, then your aunt and uncle, your ex-boyfriend, and now even a boy who managed to fool you with his charm and handsome look.

"my first and only boyfriend cheated on me."

yeosang is taken by surprise, his facial like a deer caught in headlight, whether at how fast you answered, or at what you just said. but you just figured, you might as well offer your own tale of a failed relationship, if that will make him feel any better.

"oh..." his delivery is muted, as if still trying to recover from shock, you have to laugh off the stone expression on his face; act like the revealed fact didn't bother you all that much.

you speak again, "i wasn't in love with him, though. i don't think i was. i only gave him a chance because he liked me and i felt compelled to say yes when he asked me out."

"so... you did it out of pity?"

it's like he got you there, your attention batting to the streets in shame. you're starting to sound like the girl in yeosang's story; who, maybe, went out with a boy not because she liked him, but for another reason.

except, in your story, he was the one who had hurt you. said in your face you deserved whatever happened, and though you didn't love him, it did hurt. it still hurts. because it was another person you couldn't get to stay; another proof that possibly, you're just not meant to be loved.

"you know..." instead of answering his previous question, you divert the subject, because at the same time, maybe you can comfort him as well with what you're about to say. "you reminded me of him a lot at first."

his features twist, not amused in the slightest, and you don't blame him. why wouldn't he be offended being compared to your cheating ex?

"he was very blunt and sarcastic," you add on, "if he didn't like me doing something, he was gonna let me know. and you were just... you didn't have any filter at all."

whether it's guilt or embarrassment on yeosang's face, you're not able to tell. but implying he's an asshole is not your intention.

"but the more i got to know you and spent time with you, i realized i was very wrong. you're nothing like him. not even in the slightest."

he goes from being puzzled to the smallest of light that starts reflecting in his eyes at the genuine compliment that leaves you.

"i questioned for the longest time how mingi and yunho could ever like you, but i'm starting to get it now, i think. it's because you're a great friend. you do so many things for yunho simply just because he's a friend."

you don't even notice a smile has crept to your lips, but yeosang catches it and return an even bigger one, his heart folding in a way that is so pure and innocent because of your gesture.

"well, thanks. i am feeling very flattered right now," he finally says, and your giggle echoes faintly.

"just being honest," you respond. "so that's my lesson learned: that it's hard to judge someone based on first encounter, impression, or anything of that matter."

because the boy who you thought would be the bane of your existence turned out to be a wonderful surprise. on the other hand, the one person you used to look at through a rose-coloured glass and with heart eyes, turned out to be just one of the many things on the list that keep you awake at night thinking to yourself why you're not enough.

san is sprawled on the couch, tired and ready to go to bed by the time there's a knock at his door, a bit dazed when he opens it to reveal a rather composed wooyoung with his hands buried inside the pockets of his jacket.

he wonders what his friend's doing here; at this time and in an outfit that doesn't look like it's for a regular event.

"here to use the bathroom," wooyoung clarifies, inviting himself in and not bothering to hear san's response considering the amount of times the boy himself used wooyoung's place to fulfill his own needs.

san doesn't say anything and only shut the door behind him, heading back to the position he was in before.

"we're going out tonight," wooyoung announces, stopping in front of the bathroom to turn to his friend; san snapping to him at the call. "an end of the semester nightout with a couple other people from campus. you thinking of coming along?"

"nah. think i'll sit this one out."

"alright," wooyoung mumble, disappearing into the other room.

san usually isn't one to reject an invitation like that, but just yesterday, the day before, and the days before that one, all he'd been doing is going to parties, getting drunk, and doing the one thing he came to those parties for.

it can start getting repetitive; even for someone like him.

"just to let you know, you're almost out of toilet papers."

wooyoung slams the door shut and begins making way to the front; san watching his movements carefully until wooyoung just stops midway, but he's already moving back to the tv screen at that point.

wooyoung debates for a moment whether he should tell san what he saw earlier. it's probably a bad idea knowing how his friend is and the extent he goes to when he has to have something, or when it doesn't go his way.

but realistically speaking, san's never gave a shit about any of the girls he messed or messes with. wooyoung picked that up through a lengthy history of constantly trying to rile him up by name dropping and mentioning any of the girls san saw and sees, in hope of one day finding a weak spot.

because san is a good friend... to wooyoung. but he's always had a problem with the way san views the world; love, relationship, women.

he also has a problem with the fact san never listens to him. everything in one ear and out the other. he didn't listen when wooyoung told him the girl he was fucking had a boyfriend and he was gonna get his ass beat (which he didn't, unfortunately, because san has a gift for getting out of trouble), so there's a very big chance he didn't listen either when wooyoung told him to leave you alone.

and really, above all, wooyoung is just petty. and because he is petty, he will take the opportunity to just annoy him, even if san doesn't give a shit.

"by the way, i saw y/n," he discloses nonchalantly, and the speed at which san twisted his neck to look at him would have wooyoung believing this is all a very vivid dream.

"where?" san asks, the tone very standard at first like it's just the littlest bit curious.

"near the cafe a couple blocks from the dorms. we passed it earlier. she was with someone. yeosang? i think that's his name."

the clockwork in san's mind starts as he tries to recall who this fucking yeosang guy is. name sounds familiar but nothing's clicking.

"the one we went out to dinner with last time," wooyoung adds, and that's when the light bulb goes off.

“sit down, sit down!” wooyoung hustles, pushing san down onto the seat, yeosang scooting to the wall to make space.

wooyoung plops himself down at the end, fidgeting in his spot.

“this is yeosang,” he starts; the two boys next to each other exchanging a small head bow.

"i think they might be a thing now. she looked really happy."

wooyoung's talking out of his ass, saying whatever just for the heck of it. you for sure looked happy, though. you conversed with yeosang with a smile on your face the entire time.

you guys being a 'thing' might be a bit over-the-top but it doesn't hurt anyone to exaggerate a little. san never cared so why would he now?

but wooyoung doesn't take notice of the way san's body tenses up and his grip on the arm of the couch gets tighter, wooyoung's mind completely elsewhere, focus on getting out now that he's done all he wanted to do.

"alright, well, i'm gonna head out now before i piss the other guys off."

and he's gone, leaving san to digest the new information as something churns in his stomach and his knuckles clenches. because now, it's starting to make sense.

the sudden silence from you and the unanswered message. you never even read his text from two days ago. it's all because you're too busy with yeosang.

he can still recall the small and subtle glances you guys would sometime exchange during dinner; the way your eyes would shoot to him, and he would try to cover the hidden laughter that wanted out because you did something endearing.

and san typically doesn't mull over the girls he hooks up with; who they slept with before or will sleep with after him. because most of them know what they're getting into. they don't expect anything from him after and he doesn't expect anything from them, either.

but over the course of seeing you, he's taken a rather big liking to you above any others. because out of all his conquests, you're the one who's always willing to go above and beyond for him.

you have feelings for him that are more than just simply fulfilling a need--you actually like him.

and in typical san fashion, because he's selfish, he uses that knowledge to hang over your head, knowing whatever he does, you're going to put up with it.

so how is he suppose to feel now, that you of all people is ignoring him, with someone else right by your doorstep ready to take his place.

well, it definitely doesn't feel good.

a fit of rage, jealousy, and possessiveness overtakes him completely, and before he knows it, he's up and with his car keys dangling around his finger. he has to talk to you.

even if he's on the verge of passing out right now and tired out of his mind. even if paying you a visit is quite possibly going to be the worst thing he can ever do to you.

"wait, so with that being established, could that mean you were being cautious around me because you were afraid of falling for me?" you tease yeosang through the elevator ride.

the chemistry has been so natural, the rest of the night spent in comfortable conversations that were full of sparks, and you have never felt so safe in the presence of anyone before.

he snickers. "oh would you let it go. i told you that like... an hour ago."

you return a giggle of your own, yeosang continuing on, "but i might've been a bit of an asshole to a couple other girls. maybe."

you roll your eyes playfully, at the same time stepping out of the elevator when the door open, about to make another remark when you catch a figure from the corner of your eye. standing in front of your room, head down and attention glued to his phone screen.

he finally looks up at the sound of the commotion, and you merely gasp in place when that familiar feeling of butterflies swoop your stomach at the sight of none other than san.

what the hell is he doing here? again.

you and yeosang are frozen in place, his questioning gaze lasering san's that stiffens upon seeing yeosang by your side, looking so in place and comfortable; that fit of rage, jealousy, and possessiveness making a comeback with even more vengeance.

silence consumes the thick air, you breaking it by shifting just enough so you're able to whisper to yeosang; thank him for making sure you arrive safely, and that he's good to return.

yeosang shoots san one last glance, the boy giving him all kinds of wrong signs, but it's also not his place to meddle. he nods and tells you a goodnight, shuffling his feet back into the elevator and you watch until the door closes on him.

now, it's just you and the person who has given you nothing but pain, showing up once again when you experience even an ounce of joy.

you walk to the door of your room with careful steps, stopping in front of him, everything about your body language is nervous and in defense mode, thinking that this is it.

this is where you cut off everything with him; the kisses, sex, months of being in each other's arms--this is where it will all end. you will tell him you no longer want anything to do with him because you can't agree to his conditions.

you're not made for a casual relationship without any budding feelings. it's just not who you are; therefore, you and him are not compatible.

"hey..." he's the one to start speaking, "i'm sorry i haven't been reaching out, i was--"

"--it's fine," you cut, not wanting to hear any more lies from him. the fact he doesn't even recall showing up drunk is enough to convince you there's no need to hear him out at all.

"oh," he simply says, and it's the most awkward silence after of you just standing there and he thinking of what else to say.

"i know you're probably upset, but--"

"--it's fine, san. i-i don't care anymore."

anymore. san thinks over the word more than he should, and the longer he lingers on it, the more he find himself hating everything about your tone and attitude.

but he's always been quite shameless, always testing the situation even if he feels a shitstorm coming.

"can i come in? for a little bit?"

come in. you know what that means, and how it will always end. you'll like to believe you're way past that now.

with a heavy sigh and striving a few steps forward, you pull out your key.

"i'm really tired." you unlock the frame, pushing it just slightly open. "i think it's best if you leave." your palms against it, slowly creeping yourself in; your voice unwelcoming because you're hoping he will get the hint and leave you the heck alone.

"and... i-i don't think we should see each other again after--"

your breath is whisked away, it all happening so fast. one second you were still in the hallway and the next, you're pushed into the room along with san shoving himself in, his grip around both your wrists and backing you into the wall.

"--all because of that fucking guy, right?" he taunts, a look on him so terrifying, you have never seen san angry like this before.

"what are you talking about?" you push him back by his chest, honestly amazed at the amount of sheer strength you hold when being cornered.

but that just might've been a mistake; he's able to catch his steps before stumbling completely and pins both his hands to the wall with a bang, trapping you inbetween his arms and hungry gaze.

you flinch a little.

"yeosang. the one that came with you. are you seeing him?"

your eyes squint--perplexed, only able to think, what about yeosang? and why of all times, now is when he's deciding to give a shit.

he's never cared about anything regarding you--what you do or who you hang out with--always leaving when he wants to, never bothering to call or text if not for his own benefits, and now he shows up (not drunk) after almost a month of silence to interrogate you against your will, shoving himself into your safe space like an intruder.

"and why does it matter whether i am or i'm not. you said it yourself, san... that we are just friends. i never even asked about any of the girls you see."

some of the rage on san's face dissipates, replaced by the conflict that runs through him--how and when you got this confident to even talk back when you were so tight-lipped the last time he saw you.

and it's true. you guys are just friends, and even friends doesn't sound right. it honestly is a very generous term actually, considering the extent of the relationship.

so yes, he doesn't have the rights to be concerned about who you're with or what you do with them. but again, he's selfish; maybe even rotten to the core. the thoughts of you ever being with someone else never proving to be a threat. not even jongho who really was just a nuisance.

but now, the threat is very much real, and he doesn't like it one bit.

he was the one who touched you first, claimed you first--so in terms, you belong to him. not yeosang or any other fucking guys. him.

and he's going to make sure you know that.

disregarding the veins practically popping on his forehead, you just want to establish a point at this rate, talking in your thin voice, "after this, i really do think it's best if we stop--"

his lips is on yours before you can finish the sentence. before you can make it known once and for all that you do not want to see him again after this.

despite his amazing sex drive and ability to make you cum, san isn't much of a tongue kisser. rarely, actually. but by how his tongue is moving against your protesting lips, you'd think this is his favorite thing in the world.

you're the one to break the kiss, pushing him back and trying to catch your breath after. it's when you see that familiar smirk on him that the fear creeps in to form a knot that travels down your throat.

"you were saying?" he cocks his head, so smug about the power he still has over you, so evident as it's displayed right in front of his face in all its glory.

but you haven't lost, yet. you still have the time to get rid of him and show that the effect he had on you is no more.

you clear your throat and straighten your posture, putting on an act of bravery.

"i said it's best if we stop seeing each other after this. our agreement or whatever it was, i don't want it anymore."

the smirk only widens, san honestly amused you still have some restraint.

"oh, really?"

an eyebrow is raised on him before you feel the cold sensation of his fingers crawling up one of your legs, slowly traveling to under your skirt.

you gulp.

"then stop me." he leans in to whisper, his breath felt on the tip of your skin, ghosting and sending a shiver down your spine--that sudden but recognizable itch in between your legs again begins coming into bloom--one that is truly going to be your downfall, you can already feel it.

"s-stop, san," you mutter with eyes glued on him. you don't even sound like you mean it; like you even want him to stop at all. and he knows; he knew.

that no matter how hard you fight, all he has to do is try just a little harder and you will fold.

he chuckles, whether at how cute you look or at your words, his hand stops in place and squeezes at your thigh, drawing closer and whispering in your ear using that deep tone that makes you shutter in excitement.

"do you really want me to?"

he pulls away after, face merely inches away and your gaze skips to his lips for a moment; lips that are on yours the next and comfortably taking you in this time because there's no more act or pretense that you don't want him.

because he still conjures up butterflies and still make you feel that something that is so unique only when in the proximity of him.

you still miss him when you know you shouldn't, and the taste of his lips still feels like home even though it's now only a forbidden flavor that serves as a reminder that in the end, you will be your own worst enemy.

your arms rest around his shoulders the way they usually do, replying back to the kiss and trying to meet his pace; at the same time, his fingers edging closer to the shorts under your skirt, stopping when he reaches the top, breaking away from the kiss to laser you a glare.

he scans your outfit swiftly before looking up again; something displeased already blossoming on his expression.

"did you wear this for yeosang?" the way he's able to flip flop emotions almost too scary, now currently showing the same frightening and much more menacing side once before that sparked fear in you.

you're about to answer but he cuts you off with a brief "fuck it." going back to resume the kiss that is a lot sloppier than the previous one, his lips moving against yours in frustration like he's trying to convey something.

you don't get a second to catch your breath when he abruptly swoops you from the behind--your arms still around his shoulders for support--and throws you down onto your bed, your back sinking into the sheet momentarily.

he situates himself and traps both your legs between his, and you think it's just going to be like any other times you both had sex.

he's probably going to eat you out or make you suck his cock, but san surprises you when he grabs your arm and flip you around just like that--your face right into the pillow.

the sound of his belt unbuckling is after, and you turn to look over your shoulder.

"san..." you call out, but he continues to leave you in astonishment when he hisses back instead.

"shut up."

he tosses the belt, and from the way it hits the wall on yuna's side before dropping to the floor means there was some force put into it.

"just... just shut up." and his cock is next, freeing itself from his pants.

it's when you feel the shorts underneath ripped from your skin, the cold air gushing right past it, that you release what sounds like a mixture of a gasp along with a moan.

he pushes your legs apart and scoots in, focus on the sight of your bare pussy that still needs some lubrication.

spitting on his fingers, you can only let your head fall onto the pillow as solace when he rubs over your entrance in preparation before inserting two digits in, a quiet groan escaping at the sensation you haven't felt in a while.

"look at you so fucking wet already, and you said you don't want to see me anymore." he chuckles a sinister, mocking laughter, bunching your skirt up to where he can see everything, gripping your hips firmly to line up with his hard-on.

"but truth is, you'll always come back for this cock."

the laughter intensifies and so does the knot in your stomach, barely able to get out, "d-do you have a cond--" before a curse leaves your mouth.

your eyes shut and you immediately grip at the sheet when he inserts his length in without any notice. without a fucking condom.

and san has never had sex without a condom before, but his jealousy has taken over completely, currently only focus on making sure you know you belong to him.

only he can fuck you like this and only he can feel your pussy as it hug around his length so nicely like it's made just for his cock.

his nails dig at your hips and you have to muffle the oncoming screams by burying your face into the pillow, san fucking you through the high at such an intense pace, you may never want to go back to slow and steady sex ever again.

"what were you doing with yeosang?" he asks through the grunts and lost breath.

lifting your head up to look over your shoulder again, you try forming an answer in hardship of the pleasure coursing your system.

"we were--oh fuck," you curse at that spot being hit so perfectly, "we were just hanging out."

he snaps into you a little harder at that, the hold you have on the sheet tightening.

"will you stop seeing him?" he asks again, his pace slowing down as he awaits your response.

"i-i don't know," you answer honestly, since you're actually starting to warm up to yeosang and he's nice to be around.

san's facial twists in red though you can't see it clearly because he's fucking you too good right now.

"i said," he almost growl, "will you stop seeing him?" picking up his speed again and nails digging even further into your flesh as he practically slams your cunt with the harsh thrusts.

"y-yes!" you give in, defeated instantly at the overwhelming sensation and pit that's starting to form. "i'll stop seeing him!" your face falling back into the pillow once more, the sheet in your grip, and only able to cry sounds of pleasure the rest of the session as he pounds into you over and over again.

you come hard and wet, unable to recall a time you ever came like this. san fucks you a few more time while you try catching your breath and pulls out.

there's no need for him to cum. he already accomplished exactly what he wanted.

"now that wasn't so hard, was it?" you feel the shift of his body weight as he stands on his knees again, and you're still panting with the side of your face stuck to the poor pillow.

it's when that high from what just happened is starting to die out and another feeling so familiar consisting of guilt and shame settles in again.

the commotion of san getting off the bed to go look for his belt competely ignored, you only staring into space at yuna's side of the room already imagining what mingi's and yunho's reactions will be like.

you have broken a promise. you went against your friends, and all for a boy who doesn't even like you.

a boy, who, will leave in the next few minutes; tell you he has somewhere to be, and will lie to you all over again the way he always does.

but before the end of the night, choi san surprises you just one more time.

he doesn't leave.

instead, he walks to where you're lying down and places a peck to your cheek that has you picking your head up to look at him.

he gives you that soft, handsome smile that shows those dimples you love dearly, and offers a hand.

"want to do something together?"

next // series m.list

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[stiles-o-dylan24]

King of My Heart Chapter 24 - The Battle of Starcourt

Author: @stiles-o-dylan24​  Pairing: Steve x Summer Byers Word Count:  10.5k Warnings: canon violence and themes, language, mentions of wounds, blood, descriptions of mind flayer melting people into a monster, mentions of death, bodies, character deaths, fluff A/N: you can blame me or labor day for this being so late, either choice would be acceptable, I love you all SERIES SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

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I kneel next to El and grab her hand while she continues to scream in agony with the pain in her leg.

We can hear a noise coming from her leg and we look over, Erica leaning closer and asking “What is that?”

“There’s definitely something in there” I repeat and we can see something under her skin moving around right below where the initial wound on her shin is.

“Jesus Christ” Dustin says and I scrunch my face up, trying not to gag with how it sounds and looks. I focus on El and I grab her hand more, setting my free hand on her shoulder.

In between El’s continued wails of agony, Jonathan has an idea and he looks at us, ordering “Keep her talking– keep her awake, okay?” before he gets up and runs away from us.

He runs past Scoops and runs across the middle area of the food court, heading to the teriyaki place and hopping over the counter.

“Jesus christ” Dustin mutters again and El grunts, closing her eyes and flinching her head to the side.

“Hey, hey, hey– stay awake, stay awake,“ Mike tells her, looking up at Dustin and I on her other side “Let’s get her on this side, on this side.”

We go to move her while Mike slides to sit behind her, guiding her so she’s laying back on his chest.

“Easy, easy, easy” Steve quickly says, setting his hand on my back as he reaches for her legs and helps us move her.

Steve kneels beside me while Robin starts stammering “It's, uh… you know, it's not actually that bad,” everyone looks over at her and she nods, her eyes not looking away from El’s leg “There was a… the goalie on my soccer team, Beth Wildfire, this other girl slid into her leg, and like the whole bone came out of her knee, six inches or something, it was insane–”

“Robin” Steve says, looking up at her and she finally looks over at us saying “Yeah?” and Steve states simply “You’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry” Robin breathes out genuinely, looking back at El at the same time Jonathan runs back over and slides to a stop at El’s feet.

“Okay– all right, El?” Jonathan says and El looks at him, all of us doing the same and Jonathan nods “This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?”

“Okay” she sobs and I grip onto her hand more, saying “We got you, just squeeze the crap out of my hand okay?”

She looks up at me, just nodding her head as she cries more and my heart is breaking for her that she has to go through this.

“Okay I need you to stay real still” Jonathan instructs, putting on a pair of plastic food service gloves and holding out a wooden spoon to her “And here, you’re gonna want to bite down on this, okay?”

“Jesus christ” Dustin mutters once more while Mike takes the wooden spoon Jonathan is offering and holds it over for El to bite down on. 

Dustin takes her other hand, saying “Holy shit, holy shit” over and over again while Jonathan lifts up the knife and brings it near her leg. He hesitates, looking up at all of us and Mike says “Do it”

“Okay” Jonathan says, taking a moment before he sets the end of the blade against the top area of the wound on her shin. He presses it down and slices the wound open causing El to immediately start screaming even louder. She pushes back into Mike and squeezes my hand even harder while the wound starts oozing blood and something else I’m going to forget I saw from the cut. I try not to look or gag at the noises I’m hearing and Dustin leans further away “Oh, shit.”

Jonathan drops the knife, the blade clattering on the tile floor while El screams and sobs behind the wooden spoon in her teeth. He takes a few seconds before he’s pushing his fingers in through the area he just cut open, causing El to screech in pain even louder.

None of us are able to hold back our reactions and we all gasp or groan in disgust at what we’re seeing happening. El whimpers through a deep guttural scream, her hold on my hand increasing to where I think she could break my hand, however, I ignore it and just set my other hand on hers to let her know we’ve still got her. 

“Jonathan!” Nancy yells over El’s screams and he shouts back “Stop talking!” before he slides his fingers to the side of the wound in El’s leg and she screams even louder.

“Goddamn it!” Jonathan yells and moves to keep trying to find this creature that’s inside her leg, however, El stops him when she shouts “No! Stop it!” She spits out the wooden spoon from her mouth and continues to yell “Stop! Stop!” while Nancy reaches over and hits Jonathan’s shoulder also saying “Stop.”

All that can be heard is all of our collective panting breaths from watching everything happening and El's whimpers as she pushes up from her lean against Mike and croaks heartbreakingly “I can do it– I can do it”

El lets go of mine and Dustin's hands while Mike helps her into a sitting up position with her legs out in front of her. She holds one of her hands above her shin, screaming out in pain when this creature doesn't immediately fly out of her leg. Instead we watch as it seems like the creature that's in her leg is just shaking around even more while it stays latched onto her.

I scrunch my face up in solidarity pain as I watch El continue to scream out while she's trying to force this creature out of her leg, however, all we can see is it moving and shaking under her skin even more while she wails in pain.

With one more echoing scream from El this thing finally breaks the surface of her leg but it's still attached to her. El’s scream increases and her powers raise to an intensity that the front windows of the store we are gathered in front of shatters apart. We all scream and flinch away, Steve covering me as the shattered pieces of the glass fall down around us. 

El’s screaming continues and the creature shrieks as El is finally able to lift it out of her skin. She holds it in the air in front of her screaming even more before she pulls her arm back and launches this creature in the air away from us.

It flops onto the tile floor a few times with a sickening noise and starts to crawl away, however, it doesn’t get far as the next thing we see is a boot covered foot stomp down onto it.

El is panting from the effort that just took from her and we look up, seeing Hop, mom and Murray Bauman standing before us looking worriedly between us all.

Hop's face twists in worry when he takes in El and he doesn't waste a second before he walks quickly over towards us. He bends down to help El stand up and carries her over towards the center area with the benches and a water fountain, sitting with her on the square bench that has tree foliage in the center of it. 

Mom sits down on the bench with them and puts El’s legs in her lap while she wraps her leg with bandages we got from a first aid kit at one of the restaurant's back counters along with a soda for El to drink.

I stand off to the side of them with Max and Steve standing on either side of me while Robin, Will, Lucas and Erica sit down on the side of the fountain facing us and Dustin, Jonathan, Nancy, and Mike stand beside them so we’re in a somewhat circle. 

They all start to tell us about what they’ve been dealing with while we have been underground, starting with Will who explains “The other night at the movie I felt the same feeling on the back of my neck that I felt last year whenever the mind flayer was close and it wasn't until it happened another two times before I told these guys about it. We figured out that even though El closed the gate the part of the mind flayer that was attached to me must have been locked out here with us when the gate was closed.”

“We then figured it must have found a new host which led us to Billy who was acting weird and worked at the pool where Heather had been missing” Max states and I look over at her “Heather Holloway?” I ask and they all nod at me. I cross my arms over my chest and Steve looks at me in his silent question and all I’m able to say is “We went through the lifeguard training together.”

“I’m really glad you quit working at the pool when you did, Summie” Will mutters quietly towards me and Steve steps closer, setting his hand on my back while they continue. Max looks over and explains further “Billy was completely covered while he was sitting in the lifeguard chair like he was trying to stay out of the sun and since we know that the Mind Flayer hates heat we tested Billy in the sauna at the pool."

Mike nods and adds on "We cracked the heat up on that thing when we locked him in the sauna and how he reacted to the heat we saw he was definitely flayed–”

Mom makes a noise and looks around at them all for an explanation “Flayed?”

“That’s what the Mind Flayer does, he flays people– takes over their minds and once they do that, they basically become him” Lucas explains and lifts his hands up “Billy’s veins got all black and he broke out of the sauna, El fought him and he took off.”

“And at the same time I was at the hospital with Mrs. Dricoll who out of no where was reacting the exact same way as Will was last year when we were at the cabin– yelling almost like a roar and she had black veins all over her skin.”

“Mrs. Dricoll?” Hop asks and Nancy reaches up to scratch the side of her head “She's this older woman who called the paper and wanted us to investigate these rabid rats that ate her fertilizer and when we went to her house we found the rat she had captured and it was definitely acting weird. I called around and other farms reported the same thing about rats or something eating their fertilizer or just other chemicals they had. After the paper wasn’t going to take our story seriously without proof we went back to her house to get the rat, however, it was gone and we instead found her eating fertilizer which is how she went to the hospital.”

Nancy points over to the group and continues “Their sauna test happened at the exact same time Mrs. Driscoll was acting like Will last year. So once we figured out she was flayed along with Billy we had to assume there were more people probably flayed–"

"Which is how Heather was brought up–" Max interjects, nodding her head over towards El and explaining "We were just messing around and trying to spy on Billy the other night, but when she went into that void area to find him she saw him leaning over Heather and whispering something to her– and she was scared. Billy felt El in there with him and he made sure she couldn't see where they were. We spent the next day trying to find Heather which we finally did– she was at home having dinner with her parents and Billy."

"Her dad is Tom, who was our boss at the paper," Nancy continues "And the next morning after their dinner he was acting weird when he fired us after we had gone back to Mrs. Driscoll’s house, almost like he was on drugs.”

Jonathan nods his head with her words, lifting his shoulders up as he explains further “We went to the Holloway’s house and they were all gone but we did find their kitchen torn apart and a bunch of cleaning chemicals were spilled open like they had been eating them.”

“What does chemicals and fertilizer have to do with the Mind Flayer? I mean Will didn’t eat chemicals last year” Steve mutters and Nancy shakes her head saying “No, we’re getting to that” before she looks around at all of us “We couldn’t figure out where the Halloways were but the scene around the house and in the garage suggested they were taken somewhere. I remembered that Mrs. Driscoll kept repeating 'she had to go back' so we thought the flaying was happening somewhere else– somewhere that Billy didn’t want El to see in the void when she had found him in there talking to a scared Heather.”

“Next plan was to go back to the hospital and follow Driscoll to where she wanted to go back to so badly” Will explains and Jonathan scratches behind his head, elaborating further “When we got to the hospital Mrs. Dricoll was already gone but Tom and Bruce were there– flayed, with the black veins all over them and after Nancy and I fought them off their bodies kind of dissolved–”

“I’m sorry, dissolved?” I repeat and Jonathan nods, unfortunately continuing “Dissolved into this fleshy mound of bones and their insides and they oozed across the floor towards each other until they formed this large fleshy monster looking thing.”

“Um, when you say fleshy monster…” I trail off and Nancy makes a face, saying “It was every part of their bodies, even the bones which were also used as teeth. It was disgusting.” 

“How could their bodies do that?” Steve asks and I make a noise looking at him and quickly over at the group, stating “The chemicals– if they were ingesting the chemicals they were essentially obliterating their insides and then they'd–” I stop so I don’t throw up and Mike nods at me “Yeah exactly and the amount of people who were flayed had to be dozens because they all melted their bodies the same way Tom and Bruce did at the hospital and it’s now one big monster. The Mind Flayer– it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world–”

“And it almost did,” Max says, looking around as she continues and indicates over to where we just were “That was just one tiny piece of it.” 

“How big is this thing?” Hop asks and Jonathan nods “It’s big– thirty feet, at least.”

“Yeah” Lucas chimes in, looking over at Hop as he fills in “It sorta destroyed your cabin… sorry” he whispers the last word and Hop shakes his head.

Steve makes a noise and says “Okay, so, just to be clear, this… this big fleshy spider thing that hurt El, it's some kind of gigantic... weapon?”

“Yes” Nancy answers quickly and Steve continues “But instead of, like, screws and metal, the Mind Flayer made its weapon… with melted people.”

“Yes, exactly” Nancy shakes her head like it couldn’t have been described better and Steve nods “Yeah, okay. I... yeah, I'm just making sure.”

“Are we sure this thing is still out there, still alive?” Mom asks and Max nods, explaining “El beat the shit out of it, but, yeah, it's still alive.”

“But if we close the gate again…” Will trails off and Max looks over at him, continuing “We cut the brain off from the body–”

“And kill it–” Lucas states familiarly, adding on “Theoretically.”

“Yoo-hoo!” a shouting voice sounds up behind us and I jump before I turn around with everyone else, all of us seeing Murray walking towards us. He’s got papers in each of his hands and he’s rustling them around while he waves his arms about “Yoo-hoo!”

Murray quickly walks over, continuing to wave his arms around until he leads us over to the table and chairs seating area of the food court. Once we’ve gathered over at the tables mom and Hop walk over to the table where Murray is standing and he slaps down the papers in his hands onto the table. He starts pointing around on the papers while he says “Okay, this is what Alexei called ‘the hub’. Now, the hub takes us to the vault room”

“Okay, where's the gate?” Hop asks and Murray points to a certain area on the paper, answering “Right here. I don't know the scale on this, but I think it's fairly close to the vault room, maybe fifty feet or so.”

“More like five hundred” Erica states and walks closer towards him, jabbing “What, you're just gonna waltz in there like it's commie Disneyland or something?”

“I'm sorry, who are you?” Murray asks and she throws him a sarcastic look, throwing back at him “Erica Sinclair. Who are you?”

“Murray… Bauman” Murray answers and Erica lifts her hand up as well as her brows “Listen, Mr. Bunman, I'm not trying to tell you how to do things, but I've been down in that shithole for twenty four hours,” she switches to look around at mom and Hop as she finishes with “And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you're all gonna die.”

Murray stands up from his lean on the table and says “I'm sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?”

“Um, I'm ten, you bald bastard!” she shouts back at him, causing Lucas to shout “Erica!” and she answers with “Just the facts!”

“She’s right” Dustin chimes in, elaborating “You’re all gonna die, but you don’t have to” he walks up to the table and directs his words to Murray while reaching for the paper on the table “Excuse me– sorry, may I?”

“Please” Murray smiles brightly through his frustration and Dustin sits down at the table, sliding the paper towards him and grabs a pencil from his front vest pocket “Okay, see this room here?” he draws a circle around the room “This is a storage facility. There's a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system. That will lead you to the base of the weapon. It's a bit of a maze down there, but between me and Erica, we can show you the way.”

“You can show us the way?” Hop says slowly and Dustin lifts his hand up, reassuring “Don't worry, you can do all the fighting and the dangerous hero shit, and we'll just be your… navigators.”

“No” Hop says simply, shaking his head and adding a little shoulder shrug “Nope.”

With that Hop gets to work checking the dead bodies of the Russian guards, grabbing their guns and their radios. 

Steve, Robin and I head over to one of the restaurants and start scouring for any snacks and drinks we can find. We find some chips and Steve throws Robin a bag while I put the nozzles on the drinking fountain to get sodas for us to drink.

I hop up onto the counter and sit down next to Steve while we finally get something in our stomachs after not eating for like two days.

Robin stands in front of us and eats her chips, moving her eyes between the pair of us "So... what did you guys talk about when you were all drugged?"

I snort and take a drink, swallowing down the bites of chips "We laughed a lot while we were drugged"

"Hmm" she says, smiling knowingly and saying "You seemed pretty close in the bathroom when we walked in" causing me to glare at her and she silently laughs while Steve talks around his chips "We threw up in the bathroom."

"In the same stall?" Robin asks, failing at hiding how disgusted she is at that thought and I roll my eyes dramatically at her "No not the same stall– we interrogated each other to see if the drugs were still in our systems."

"Oh so you of course needed to be in the same stall to do that" Robin agrees, smirking at us "Were the drugs still in your system?" she asks and I nod while Steve clears his throat "Possibly."

I look over at him, however, his full attention is on getting the last of the chips in his bag and Robin nods, muttering "Interesting"

Quickly I switch to looking at her and she just smiles, and I choose to ignore her now. I need to sleep before I can even attempt to understand all of the revelations that have come to light this evening.

“Hey, heads up” Hop yells, getting Dustin’s attention before he tosses him one of the radios and continues “You can navigate, just from someplace safe.”

“It's not that simple” Dustin starts and Erica says “The signal won't reach.”

Dustin nods and holds up the radio while he elaborates “Not with this. You need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russians' radio tower. But for that to work, you need to have someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super powered handcrafted radio tower, one preferably already situated at the highest point in Hawkins. Oh, wait. That's me. If you want us to navigate, you got us, but we need a head start– and a car.”

Hop stays silent, nodding along with everything Dustin listed off before he spins around and looks at me “Summer, c’mere kid– bring the other one with you too.”

Steve jerks his head back, pointing at his chest and looking over at me “Me? Does he mean me?”

“Yup, come on” I laugh and hop off the counter, reaching over to grab Robin’s arm “You’re part of this team too, let’s go.”

Hop digs some keys out of his pocket and holds them up to show Dustin as we come to a stop next to them. 

Dustin smiles and nods before we go over our plan for what we’re all going to be doing next and the groups we are splitting up into to do it.

Mom, Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Lucas, Mike, Max and El are going to head to Murray’s in Illinois so both Will and El will be as far away from the Mind Flayer as possible.

Steve, Robin, Dustin, Erica and I will head to Dustin’s radio tower so that we will also be as far away from the Mind Flayer as possible giving Dustin and Erica the safe place to navigate the directions needed for the air vent tunnels.

Which leaves Hop and Murray who are going to be the only ones staying at the mall to follow through with the plan down in the Russian tunnels to destroy the weapon trying to open the gate.

We also go over the group names for each of our groups along with the call signs for when Dustin will be communicating with Hop and Murray so that the Russians don't catch on if they happen to overhear the conversations.

Once the plans are sorted Hop tosses the keys over towards Steve who catches them against his chest. Hop nods his head towards the direction of the front of the mall, instructing “Car's parked out front–” he points at his face “Drive them safely there.”

“Yes sir” Steve says and we move to take off towards the direction of the front of the mall, however, mom stops me when she quickly runs over and grabs my arm. She makes a noise and hugs me to her "You guys be safe"

I return her hug and say "You guys too," grunting a second later when she increases her hold around me "Um, mom... you're crushing me"

"Sorry" she chuckles and loosens her grip, pulling back from me and setting her hands on my shoulders "I love you"

I smile at her, saying "I love you" before I frown at her, catching onto her weird behavior "What are you doing?"

She smiles sadly, admitting "I need to be apart of destroying this thing" and I widen my eyes slightly as I work through what she's saying "You better destroy this thing and not get hurt in the process."

"I'm going to be fine, sweetie... I just need to know that you and your brothers are going to be as far away from here as possible" mom stresses and I hug her again "We will be." I pull back and connect my eyes with hers while I state "I'll see you soon."

"Yup" mom kisses my cheek and sets her hand on Steve's arm, smiling softly at him and he nods, reassuring her "We'll see you soon."

With that we catch up with Robin, Dustin and Erica and we make our way to the front entrance of the mall. Steve pushes open the front doors, laughing softly and saying “Oh, man, now this…” he tosses the keys up and catches them “This is what I'm talkin' about!”

“Toddfather?” I mutter when I read the front license plate of the white convertible with the top down and Steve scoffs “Oh, screw Todd! Steve's her daddy now” he laughs and sets his hands on the top of the car and the closed door to jump up into the car through the open top.

“Did you just talk about yourself in the third person?” Robin asks as we walk around the other side and I snort asking further “Did he just call himself daddy?”

Steve snaps his eyes in my direction, pointing at me like I need to be quiet and I just laugh, shaking my head at him. Dustin hops into the back seat behind Steve while I open the passenger door and hold the seat forward for Erica to climb into the backseat. Robin rushes past me to sit down next to Erica and I make a noise, seeing her smirk at me. I narrow my eyes at her while Steve asks “All right, where are we going?”

“Weathertop” Dustin says and looks over at me when I'm still standing outside of the car “Come on Summer breeze we gotta go”

Robin smiles brightly at me and I drop the seat back, spinning around to sit in the front seat with Steve who asks Dustin “Weather-what?”

“Just drive” Dustin urges and Steve huffs, turning back around to start the engine “Okay, jesus!”

The engine revs and Steve sets his hand on the back of the seat, his fingers brushing my shoulder when he does, so he can turn around and look behind the car as he reverses away from the front of the mall.

He sets the car in drive and takes off across the parking lot, following the directions from Dustin once we get on the road. 

“Jesus, how far is this place, man?” Steve asks after we've been driving for fifteen minutes and Dustin leans closer to the front seat “Relax, we're almost there.”

“Suzie must be pretty special, huh? I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her?” Robin inquires and Dustin smiles, answering “I mean, nobody's scientifically perfect, but Suzie's about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be”

“She sound made up to me… she sound made up to you?” Erica asks and I look over my shoulder to see she directed her words towards Steve… who doesn’t answer right away.

That fact doesn’t go unnoticed by Dustin who says incredulously “Why are you hesitating, Steve?”

“I'm... I'm... I'm not! I'm not!” Steve tries to argue “I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”

“Left” Dustin says as an answer, stating more urgently “Turn left”

“There's not a road here” Steve states back and Dustin shouts “Turn left now!”

“Jesus! Hang on!” Steve yells and grabs the wheel, turning the car sharply to the left. We crash through a small fence on the side of the road and we're immediately driving through a field. 

Steve keeps a hold of the wheel and keeps driving straight, yelling over his shoulder “Whoa! Henderson, where are we going?!”

“Up!” Dustin yells back and Steve does as instructed by Dustin and keeps driving the car up the hill we’re coming up on.

The car bounces along as we hit the rough terrain of the hill, Steve shouting “Oh, Jesus!” while I shake my head and grip onto the side of the door, yelling “We’re not gonna make it!”

“Yes, we are. Come on, baby– come on, baby!” Steve answers, hitting the side of the wheel.

We continue up the hill, however, the engine noticeably strains as the wheels come to a stop, spinning in the dirt while they can't gain any traction.

“Come on!” Steve yells, slamming his foot onto the gas pedal “Come on, come on!”

The tires continue to spin without traction as Steve pushes harder on the pedal, however, we are clearly not going to move anywhere and I roll my eyes, looking around “Guess the Toddfather has its limitations."

Steve pants, lifting his foot off of the pedal and throwing his hands up off the wheel. He looks over at me and huffs out through his frustration, shoving the gear shift into park and turning off the engine. We open our doors and I hold the seat back for Robin and Erica before we start walking up the rest of the way to the top of the hill where this super long distance radio is at. 

Erica drops her backpack onto the grass at the top of the hill and Dustin kneels down in front of the radio, switching it to the channel he was told by Hop.

“Bald Eagle, do you copy?” Dustin says into the radio, continuing “Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?”

“Yes, I copy” Murray answers and we all chuckle in our relief that this worked. Dustin clears his throat and clicks the side button of the radio to say “Call sign?”

“Bald Eagle” Murray answers and Dustin doesn't hesitate to say “Please repeat”

“Bad Eagle” Murray stresses with absolutely zero patience in his voice “This is Bald Eagle!”

“Copy that. Good to hear your voice, Bald Eagle. What's your twenty?” Dustin asks and Murray clips out his status “We reached the vent. I'll contact you when I need you. Until then, silence.”

I chuckle and Dustin smiles into the radio answering back “Roger that, Bald Eagle. This is Scoops Troop, going radio silent. Ten ten, over.”

Dustin smiles up at us and Steve reaches over to pat Dustin on the shoulder.

Murray comes back over the radio and asks for directions, which Dustin and Erica guide him through until we're silent again. I set my hands on my hips and slowly walk around the top of the hill, looking up at the night sky and seeing all the stars shining above us.

“Scoops Troop, this is… Hm. Bald Eagle. I've reached another junction.” Murray's voice comes over the radio and Dustin looks down as he tries to remember “This is what?” he asks and Erica fills in “The fourth junction.”

“All right, so if memory serves, this is right after the My Little Pony thesis” Dustin says and I make a face, looking over at Steve who mouths ‘My Little pony’ at the same time that Erica explains “We went left, so he has to go–” 

“Right” they say at the same time and Dustin picks up the radio to direct Murray “Fly right, Bald Eagle– fly right.”

“Roger that, flying right” Murray says, his voice dripping in sarcasm and I laugh, shaking my head as I spin back around and look out over the city in the distance.

“What’s the My Little Pony thesis?” Robin asks and Erica grumbles “Don’t get him started” before Robin continues “Don’t get him started just tell–”

I tune them out, however, as Steve turns around with me and I see a flash of the lights at the mall, causing me to make a noise and point over in that direction “Did you just see–”

“Yeah– yeah I did” Steve says and steps closer towards my side while we watch the city lights around the mall start flashing like the lights do when we encounter anything from the upside down.

“Hey guys–” Steve trails off, causing Dustin, Erica and Robin to run over towards us. We hear an echoing pounding noise as the lights at the mall continue to flash over and over. Dustin looks up at us and we all make the collective decision to take off running back towards the radio. 

Dustin grabs the radio and shouts into it “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop! Do you copy? Over!”

“Griswold Family, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy?” Dustin repeats and the only answer over the radio we get is the sound of some kind of monster shrieking.

“Griswold Family, do you copy? Do you copy?!” Dustin yells and the next sound we hear is a bone chilling roar over the radio.

I widen my eyes and look up from the radio in Dustin’s hand, sharing a terrified look with Steve who sets his hand on my back, offering quickly “What if they’re not at the mall?”

“Do you think they would have left their radio?” I ask and Dustin shakes his head “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Please confirm your safety!”

When we don’t get an answer Dustin just continues to shout into his radio “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop! Please confirm your safety! Are you en route to Bald Eagle's nest? Please confirm your safety!”

My heart is pounding and I'm really starting to get scared they were prevented from leaving the mall somehow which means we need to figure out how to get them out of there.

“Someone, please just answer. Is anyone there? Just answer! Anyone, please…” Dustin pauses, switching to just repeating “Griswold Family, do you copy? Griswold Family, do you copy?”

We can hear another snarling sound on the radio and Steve shares a look with me while Dustin shouts again “Griswold Family, do you copy? Do you copy?!”

Steve grabs my hand and has me stand up with him, silently asking me to be on board with his plan and I nod towards him, squeezing his hand. Erica looks up at us when she notices we step away from them and she asks “Where are you going?”

“To get them the hell outta there!” Steve announces and pulls me along with him as he orders “You three stay here, contact the others!”

“Wait, Summer!” Dustin says and I stop my feet, looking back at him as he motions to throw me a radio. I let go of Steve’s hand to catch it and Dustin nods towards me “Stay in touch.”

“Got it” I reply, holding the radio up before I turn back around and Steve and I run back towards the Toddfather.

I set my hands on the top of the door and hop over it, landing in the seat at the same time Steve does. He starts the engine and shifts the car into reverse, luckily the tires getting enough traction that we’re able to go backwards down the hill.

Once we’re driving across the field and heading back towards the fence Steve crashed through, Steve looks over at me “Hang on, okay?”

I nod and grip onto the top of the car and we drive through the fence again, Steve swerving the car to the right as we turn back onto the road. He slams his foot on the gas pedal and the car takes off down the road back towards the mall.

We get to the mall in no time and when we pull into the parking lot we see the Wheeler’s station wagon and Nancy standing in front of the driver’s side door. She's got her arms raised and she's firing shots at this black car that is speeding and heading straight for her.

“Steve” I say and he nods, rushing out “Yeah I see her– hold on!”

Steve slams on the gas pedal again and right as Nancy ducks down I close my eyes and we crash right into the passenger side of the car, sliding across the road in circles until we come to a stop. I’m thrown into Steve’s side and I grunt from the action of the abrupt stop of the car. Steve immediately lets go of the wheel, turning to face me and gently grabbing the sides of my face “Hey, are you okay?”

I make a noise, attempting to nod my head a few times with the hold he’s got on me “How about you ask me that tomorrow?”

Steve chuckles, moving his thumbs over my cheeks “Yeah okay, I can add that to the list of things I will be talking with you tomorrow–”

His words are cut off when we hear the bone chilling snarl of the monster and we look over at the front entrance of the mall. I gasp and we flinch back when we see this massive monster crawling on top of the mall. Steve and I set our hands on the top of the car, lifting ourselves to stand up through the open top of the car as we look on at this monster “Holy shit!”

It looks exactly as they described it and identical to the shadow monster’s spider shape that Will drew last year. It snarls and growls as its six legs walk across the top of the mall towards the front where we’re at.

It roars down at us at the same time the station wagon’s horn blares and the car skids to halt beside us, Nancy leaning out the passenger window to yell at us “Get in!”

Steve sets his hand on my back before I hop over the passenger door of our car and run to the back of the station wagon with Steve quickly following me.

“Go, go, go, go!” Lucas shouts at the same time the monster roars again and I quickly climb into the very back of the station wagon. 

I sit down and Steve climbs in after me, grabbing the handle to close the door behind us, shouting “Go, go, go!” at the same time he sits beside me.

Jonathan slams his foot onto the gas pedal and the tires screech as we take off across the parking lot. Steve and I lean closer towards the back window when we see the monster climb off of the Starcourt Mall front entrance area sign and it starts clamoring after us with loud echoing thuds of its feet pounding into the asphalt.

Jonathan continues to speed down the road, this creature right on our tail while he does, and I try to breathe through the adrenaline coursing through my body. Having to be in the very backseat area with a front row seat to the terror that is chasing us is not helping to keep my breathing from being anything but quick, terrified pants. Steve reaches over and grabs my hand again, his eyes focused on the creature chasing us as well as he threads his fingers in between mine. I squeeze his hand, grateful he's trying to reassure me that I'm not alone right now.

“Dusty-bun, you copy?” I hear over the radio in my other hand and I slowly lift it up between us when we hear “I copy, Suzie-poo– it sounds much better now, thanks.”

I smile over at Steve and we both say in our shocked wonderment “Suzie.” 

“Okay, so, listen, do you know Planck's constant?” Dustin asks and she’s quick with her reply “Do you know the Earth orbits the sun?”

I chuckle with that and Steve shakes his head as he looks down at the radio as Dustin's voice comes back over “Okay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then a… w–what is it?” he asks and Suzie doesn’t hesitate to counter with “Okay, let me just be clear on this. I haven't heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can... save the world?”

Dustin is quick as he tries to reassure “Suzie-poo, I promise, I will make it up to you as soon as possible.”

“You can make it up to me now” she retorts and Dustin replies “What?”

Steve looks over at me when Suzie says “I want to hear it.”

“Not right now” Dustin replies immediately and she urges “Yes, now, Dusty-bun.”

“Suzie-poo, this is urgent” Dustin tries to get her to reconsider, however, she proves she doesn't care “Yes, yes, you're saving the world, I heard you the first time, but Ged is also saving Earthsea and he's about to confront the shadow, so this is Suzie, signing off.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Okay. Okay. Okay” Dustin quickly rushes out and he pauses before his voice comes back over the radio… however, he is singing 

♪ Turn around look at what you see In her face the mirror of your dreams ♪

Dustin continues to sing and Steve and I share a confused look, I scrunch my brows together while he frowns at the radio and turns in his seat so he can look in the back seat at Lucas and Will.

♪ Make believe I'm everywhere given in the light Written on the pages is The answer to a never-ending story ♪

I open my mouth to say something, however, I'm not even sure what to say and my words die in my throat as I watch the monster continue to chase us and they continue to sing together now

♪ Reach the stars fly a fantasy Dream a dream and what you see will be ♪

Steve grabs the radio from me shrugging towards the front when Jonathan and Nancy look back as well, however, the singing continues and Will looks back at us incredulously before he faces forward again as well.  

♪ Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds And there upon a rainbow is the answer to a never-ending story ♪

They harmonize as they stop signing the last ‘story’ until finally Suzie says “Planck's constant is 6.62607004”

“You just saved the world” Dustin replies, the smile evident in his voice and Suzie replies “Gosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun” causing Dustin to say “And I miss you more, Suzie-poo.”

“I miss you more, multiplied by all the stars in our galaxy” Suzie counters and Dustin starts to say “No, I miss you…” before his voice is cut off and the radio is silent again.

“Did that just fucking happen?” Steve asks and I snort, leaning back against the seat “Yeah”

I look over at him and can see he’s trying not to laugh and I shake my head at him, warning him not to start otherwise I will follow him in a laughing attack and now is definitely not the time to let my sleep deprived self do that. 

All humor dies from my face though when I see the monster stop its pursuit of us and it begins to turn around. The monster starts taking off back the way we came and I yell towards the front “It’s turning around!”

“What?” Nancy turns back to face us and Steve repeats “It's turning around!”

“Maybe we wore it out” Lucas offers and Jonathan shakes his head, gripping onto the wheel more “I don’t think so– hold on!” he shouts just before he spins the car to the right. For the second time tonight I’m thrown to the side with the spin, once again landing on Steve and he grips onto me while the car spins to a stop. 

Jonathan gets the car facing the correct direction and he heads back towards the mall. Steve lets go and I’m able to sit beside him comfortably again, leaning my head on his shoulder “Let me know when we get there”

Steve chuckles and lays his head on mine “You got it, Sums.”

Once we get back to the mall Jonathan screeches the tires to a stop and we climb out of the back. Nancy walks around to the back with us and we grab the boxes of fireworks that they apparently picked up from a grocery store earlier when they were trying to treat the wound on El’s leg.

After dividing them up between us we grab our boxes full of fireworks and run back into the mall. We head to the second floor and the six of us split into groups of two and get set up along the railing looking down onto the food court area. We find Billy leaning over El, whispering something to her while the creature finishes climbing down from the ceiling skylights and stops in front of them. The creature opens its mouth and another creature that’s more of a snake like tendril comes out of the monster’s mouth and screeches at El.

Before it's able to attack her Will throws a firework and the creature wails with the explosion against its face. 

“Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!” Lucas shouts before he throws another firework and it lands in the monster's mouth as it roars back at Lucas. The firework explodes and the monster screeches as it flinches back and we all take turns lighting the fireworks and tossing them down at the creature relentlessly. 

We don’t let up as we continue to light the fireworks and toss them down onto the creature who screeches and roars in response to each firework explosion against it.

“Hey, asshole! Over here!” Steve shouts and tosses a firework that I lit the fuse and handed over to him, hitting the creature right in the mouth.

I light another fuse and toss my own firework at it, smiling triumphantly when it explodes against the side of its head.

We all continue to throw fireworks from every direction of the second floor we’re all standing on and the creature continues to wail and screech from the blasts.

“We’re almost out!” Will shouts at Lucas a little way from where Steve and I are standing and I can hear Lucas shout “I know” before Steve reaches down and grabs the walkie from inside our almost empty basket, yelling into it “Dustin! We’re out of time!”

All of us throw the last of the fireworks that we have, and look down over the railing. Now that the fireworks have stopped being thrown at it, the creature roars and moves closer towards El and Billy who is once again leaning over her.

Billy looks up at the monster, standing up and facing it as it snarls and growls at the both of them. It roars even louder before it opens its mouth and the snake like tendril shoots out like it's going to attach itself to El, however, Billy yells and throws his arms up to stop it from coming closer. He screams “No!” and holds the snake like tendril back with his hands, pushing back against it and keeping it away from El.

Billy screams again while the creature screeches even louder and we watch as a handful more of the snake like tendrils grow off of the main creature’s body and glide through the air towards Billy. One of the growing tendrils attaches itself into Billy’s side and he screams in pain, the sound dying in his throat when another claw tendril attaches itself into Billy’s other side.

The other four snake like tendrils all impale themselves into Billy’s torso and he screams in agony with each one, his head falling back.

Billy’s knees give out and he is lowered onto his knees with the creature's tendrils still attached to his torso, bringing it’s face even closer towards Billy’s as it roars in his face.

Billy just bellows one final scream right back in the monster's face, all of us watching in horror as the monster opens its mouth and the inside snake like tendril closes its claw up to form a fist. There’s one final scream before it plunges itself straight into the center of Billy’s chest.

“Billy!” Max shrieks from somewhere below us and Billy grunts as the arm that was plunged into his chest quickly removes itself followed by the other six detaching themselves from his torso . His body crumbles onto the floor and falls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.

The creature all of a sudden screeches even louder than before, and it starts to flail its body around and smash into everything on the ground floor as well as the second floor railing "They're closing the gate" I say and Steve nods.

It moves closer towards where Steve and I are standing, lifting its arm up to smash into the railing in front of us and I scream as we turn away. Steve grabs me around my middle and pulls me back with him, both of us falling on the floor and taking cover with our arms over our heads.

The creature stumbles around a few more times before it ultimately crashes onto the ground and it's silent around us. 

Steve and I quickly get up and move to look over the railing, seeing the monster not moving anymore from where it crumbled onto the floor. We notice a fire has started around the monster in a somewhat circle and I know we’ve gotta get out of here.

"Come on, we gotta get the others" I say and tap Steve on the chest. He nods and sets his hand on my lower back as we follow the railing and gather Will, Lucas, Nancy and Jonathan.

Mike, El and Max meet us at the escalators and we hurry outside, all of us coughing through the smoke as we do. Once we're outside I notice all of the fire trucks and the military soldiers walking around and making a plan of action to get inside.

Firefighters walk up and wrap each of us in blankets, telling us we need to get checked out and separating us into different ambulances to do so.

The only ones who don't get cleared quickly are El, Mike and Max who each got knocked out by Billy and have their own cuts and bruises that need to be tended to.

I'm standing next to the ambulance that Max is getting checked out in, with Steve and Will standing next to me. We look over and mom appears through the crowd of soldiers as she desperately searches for us. She runs up to us and grabs Will, hugging him tightly before she grabs me and does the same.

"Are you okay?" she asks and we all nod and she breathes out shakily, increasing her hold on us. She pulls back and I notice the tears in her eyes, the look of despair on her face and I make a noise, looking around at the crowd "Where's Hop?" I ask and she presses her lips together, her chin wobbling with my question.

"No" I whisper, tears welling in my own eyes as I'm punched in the gut with the realization he's gone.

✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦

It’s been a week since the fourth of July and it’s been an adjustment period not just for us but the whole of Hawkins.

The fire at Starcourt Mall was so destructive that Owens was able to cover up the thirty people who were actually the victims of the Mind Flayer’s flesh monster and say they were victims of the fire instead. Hop’s death was also linked to the fire, stating he died in the line of duty trying to get everyone out, instead of that he was killed by the Russian’s laser machine exploding next to him.

Mom didn’t even hesitate to bring El into our family and move her into our home. We welcomed her with open arms, mom and I taking her shopping for all the essentials she needs and new clothes– you know the works. My college fund took a bit of a hit but that’s fine because in my opinion, El needed it more.

Today Steve, Robin and I are going to scour the newspaper and try to find a new place for us to apply to work and while it’s probably unlikely we’re also hoping we’ll be able to all work together again. Once we’ve put in the research work today then we’re going to have a movie night at Steve’s and I can’t even stress how very much needed it is.

There’s a knock on the front door and I get up from the couch to answer it, smiling when I see who’s on my porch “Hey”

Steve returns with a smile of his own and nervously moves his keys around in his hands “Hey, you ready?”

“Yup” I answer quickly and reach over to grab my bag, throwing the strap over my shoulder and closing the door behind me after I step out onto the porch. 

We get in the car and head into town, picking up a couple of newspapers before we head to Family Video to rent a few movies for tonight. 

We also stop to pick up some snacks and drinks and we head back to Steve’s house. All during our errands I tried to ignore his weird behavior, however, it was getting difficult to keep ignoring it when he was acting completely different. 

He was quiet– the kind of quiet where it was obvious he had something on his mind and he only would seem like he was present with me when I would ask him something about the movies we were picking for tonight or the snacks and drinks we were picking up.

Noticing his weird behavior still hasn’t left when we get back to his house, I figure we’re at the stage where I can just ask– so I do “Stevie?”

“Yeah, Sums?” he asks and spins around to face me, setting his hands on his hips and I smile softly at him that even with whatever is bothering him he still uses my nickname “I was just curious… is there something going on with you today?”

“Um,” he trails off, smiling nervously and reaching up to scratch the back of his head “Well…” he clears his throat and I raise my brows expectantly at him, explaining “Yeah, see… I ask because it seems like you have something on your mind.”

He drops his arm back down and looks at me silently, breathing out a deep breath “I, uh, do you remember what we talked about in the bathroom?”

“Yes– you were supposed to forget all about it though” I grumble and he laughs, shaking his head as he looks down to the floor between us “I wasn’t talking about that which I definitely forgot about.”

“Good” I mutter and he chuckles silently, looking back up at me while he continues “I actually meant about what I told you.”

“Oh” I breathe, slowly nodding my head that I do remember and he nods with me “Right, see what I remember is how I didn’t explain myself well that night and how I definitely need to”

I lick my lips quickly, saying quietly “You think so?”

“Yup” Steve says, taking a step closer towards me as he rushes out “All day I’ve been trying to figure out the best time and way to explain it better, however, I’ve just– well I keep coming up short because none of the ways seem perfect enough.”

“Who’s to say there’s a perfect enough way for you to say what you need to say?” I ask and he snorts, shaking his head as he grumbles to the floor “Because it’s what you deserve, Sum.”

“Okay” I squeak and Steve smiles, raising his brows at me “So you already know what I’m going to say?”

“I have an idea what it might be regarding” I answer and Steve nods, making a hmm noise as he walks closer towards me. He stops in front of me and says “And you’re going to allow it?”

I make a contemplative little face, tilting my head to the side “Perhaps”

Steve smiles with my words, shaking his head softly at me and I shrug while I continue “I told you once that you should know I’m great at fighting for what I want” I say and Steve smiles even more, agreeing “Yes, I remember.”

“And what I want–” I pause, breathing out a calming breath before I admit “What I want is you, so–” I trail off and Steve widens his eyes, repeating “Wait what? You want me?”

“Yes” I breathe through my nerves, continuing “It has shocked me to my core, Harrington, but you have succeeded in becoming my favorite person and I kind of like you, a lot, so if wanting me is something you could possibly want too then you should know I’m prepared to show you how much you’ve made me fallen for you–”

“Shut up” he says and sets his hands on the sides of my face. He smiles like he can’t believe this is actually happening, shaking his head softly until the next thing I know he kisses me.

He presses his soft and warm lips on mine, and already this kiss is a million times better than the one that shall not be mentioned at a time like this. No, a kiss like this deserves to be the only thing that is talked about right now. He holds me to him, cradling my face in his hands and I set my hands on his chest, linking the smell of my strawberry chapstick to this moment that I will remember forever.

Just needing a little more clarification to what this means I try to say something and he makes a noise, breaking the kiss just far enough that his lips still brush against mine while he says “I said shut up, you don’t have to fight for me– I’m already yours, Byers.”

With that he kisses me again, keeping one hand on my face still while he wraps his other arm around my lower back and pulls me against his chest. I slide my hands up his chest and wrap my arms behind his neck, holding him just as close to me as he’s holding me. He moves his lips over mine, pulling me closer like it’s some kind of dance and I’m really glad he’s holding me up because Harrington can kiss.

He presses his lips against mine a little more, breathing in deeply through his nose while he holds me to him for a few more seconds before he pulls back. He rests his forehead on mine while our panting breaths mix together and I slowly open my eyes. Steve is already looking at me when I do and he smiles at me, moving his head against mine as he mutters quietly “So you fell for me huh?”

“I didn’t fall,” I grumble, glaring playfully at him as I reply just as quietly “You fucking tripped me”

He throws me a look, like of course he did, and I try to fight off my smile, looking up at him through my lashes and admitting “But yes I might be completely in love with you.”

Steve closes his eyes with my words, breathing in deeply like he’s trying to savor the words and I finally let the smile spread across my face. I tighten my arms around him and keep talking “You are the love that came without warning, Harrington” I say and he opens his eyes again, smiling even wider while I continue “I didn’t even get the chance to think or process it. I just woke up one morning and you were the first person I wanted to see that day– the only person at school I wanted to talk to. Then you danced with me and you took me to prom and that’s when I knew that I lost my heart to you. You had my heart even before I truly realized it.”

Steve moves his hands to my hips, gripping my sides as he pulls me against him and kisses me again and I could quite literally dreamily sigh with how amazing it actually feels to be held by him like this while he kisses me. 

He offers a series of a few quick kisses before he looks at me and I think the smile could break his face in two with how big it is. He moves his eyes around my face, shaking his head softly “It is you,” he says simply, continuing “It is fucking you, Sums. I tried to describe it to you the other night but I cannot describe it anymore, it’s just you. You are the only one that I will ever want fully,” he shrugs like it’s simple and increases his hold on my sides. I hug him a little more as it’s my turn to smile with his words and he keeps going “You didn’t even have to do anything to make me fall for you– you were unapologetically yourself. I fell for your beautiful soul and your big heart and the way you never let me get away with anything. I fell for you when you wouldn’t let anyone see how upset you were except for me. I fell for you when you wouldn’t open a christmas present and when you tried to save me from a demogorgon. I fell for you when you fought to save Will and when you stood up to me when I tried to hurt Jonathan and Nancy. I knew I was in love with you when you gave Dustin advice and when you taught him how to dance and when you actually agreed to go to prom with me. I am in love with you, Byers, and I have never been more scared to lose you than when I was strapped to you while we were in chairs and laying on the floor of a Russian bunker as you told me I was the King of your heart. Which is fitting since you are the Queen of mine,” Steve licks his lips quickly and rests his forehead against mine again “I am head over heels in love with you, Summer Byers– you walked into my life and made me fall in love with a girl with freckles more beautiful than the stars.”

I am absolutely speechless with everything he said and I move my eyes between his a few times. I slowly move my head against his, whispering “Dammit, Harrington” before I set my hands on the sides of his face and kiss him, feeling him smile against my lips when I do.

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Posted: 5 September 2023

[btsgotjams27]

All Grown Up ~ JJK | 15

✨ title: all grown up | series (completed) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: R/18+ ~ minors dni ✨ genre/au: romance, fluff, angst, friends-to-lovers, humor, banter, smut, age gap, best friends little brother ✨ author's notes: I won't be updating this series on Tumblr. This fic is inspired by the k-drama, Something in the Rain. ✨ author's notes 2: okay, so i do plan on editing the rest of this series! i just don't know when it'll be done. ✨ can also read on AO3 or Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] prev | next ✨ you deserve everything and more

✨ chapter fifteen ~ it'll never be the same | wc: 1.9k

A few weeks passed, and you hadn't spoken to him since he told you he was in love with you. He left voicemails and texts for a week until he realized that you weren’t responding. It cut you deeply seeing the multiple texts and messages he left, but they were always left on 'read.'

Jungkook sat at his work desk with an elbow propping up his chin as he mindlessly clicked through the presentation he was working on. He’d been like this since you stopped talking to him. He was unsure what to do or say to make you change your mind.

Jin walked past Jungkook’s office and then back when he noticed how tragic his friend looked. He softly knocked before opening the door. With no expression on Jungkook’s face, he peered at his friend and then back at his screen.

Jin took a seat in front of Jungkook's desk. “You've been so mopey for the past few weeks, and I can see that your pile of revisions for the new game hasn't been touched,” he pointed to the papers sitting on his desk. “What's going on?”

Jungkook plopped his head in between his arms on his desk, mumbling and groaning at Jin’s question. For a split second, he thought you were his. He almost fucking had you–so fucking close. He couldn’t stop thinking about the night he held you in his arms, slow dancing with you, about how sweet you smelled and how soft your hair was. And then going back to your place–your lips on him, your hands, how the two of you fit perfectly together.

“Let me guess. Girl problems?”

Jin’s question snapped him back to reality. He groaned again.

“Did she dump you?”

Another groan from the pained young man in front of him. Technically, you didn’t dump him because it stopped before it could even begin. If only he had confessed to you earlier, could it have worked out?

“Ah--I see.” Jin nodded along. “What can I do to help?”

Jungkook finally looked up. “Can you make me ten years older and unrelated to my sister?” A part of him was still upset at his sister. Why couldn’t she understand? And why was she so upset? If it were because Yuna thought Jungkook would hurt you, she’d be wrong because he only wanted to love and cherish you.

Jin softly chuckled, “I think I still have a wish left to grant. Let me see what I can do.”

“Hyung, I'm serious. What should I do? I left her a million voicemails and texts, but she hasn't responded.” It was starting to become borderline creepy if someone on the outside was looking in. Jungkook had no other choice but to keep trying to talk to you, to make you see the light, to see where he was coming from. There were many nights when he hastily grabbed his car keys, just wanting to show up at your place, begging and pleading for you to try and make it work–that with him by your side, you’d get through it together. He didn’t care what Yuna thought because she wasn’t his mother. She had no say in who he could and couldn’t date. That was his choice.

“I'm sorry, man...I don't know what to tell you. It's a hard situation.” Jin could see how smitten and head over heels Jungkook was for you. He’d been in love once or twice and completely understood.

Jungkook buried his head again in the same spot.

“Has Yuna said anything? How are things between them?”

He didn’t understand what the big deal was. Yes, you were his sister’s best friend, but he would never do anything to hurt you intentionally. All he wanted was one chance to see where you and he could go. But from the last conversation he had with you, maybe the talk between you and Yuna didn’t go over well.

“The last thing Yuna said to me was she couldn’t stop me from liking Y/n.” And he has never stopped liking you. You had been his crush for as long as he could remember. He only wanted you.

Your relationship with Yuna will never be the same again. There were still awkward interactions when you had to attend wedding festivities. Luckily, the presence of her other bridesmaids made it bearable.

It was the night of her and Namjoon's rehearsal dinner, and you were dreading having to see Jungkook in the flesh. You could only avoid him this past month because it was busy on set.

You were putting the finishing touches to the lavishly decorated farm tables. They were covered in gray speckled plates, matte black silverware, lined with an ivory linen table runner, and stemless vases filled with white daisies, Yuna's favorite. Everything looked perfect. It was how Yuna always imagined it would look. You guys would spend countless hours into the early morning talking about what you wanted for your weddings. You just didn't think you'd spend it estranged from her.

As you continued making sure everything was perfect, you saw Jungkook walking in with a short sleeve white polo and gray pants and sporting a new eyebrow piercing. He glanced at you before turning his attention to his sister. You could see him trying to get a glimpse of you as Yuna continued talking.

You hurried along to finish your task and move on to the next thing that needed to be done. Make sure the table is set. Check. Next, set up place cards. You were rummaging through Yuna's storage tote when you were interrupted.

"Where is it?" you quietly muttered, searching for the missing place cards.

"Are you looking for these?"

A voice behind you chimed in, presenting you with a stack of cards. You peered up to see Jungkook standing beside you. Why did he have to smell so good? And look so good too. He definitely wasn't going to go down without a fight, would he? One look at him, and you were absolutely melting.

You cleared your throat, "Oh--yeah, I am, thanks." Your hands were so shaky as you took the stack of cards and began double-checking the seating chart to ensure you were putting them in the correct spots. And Jungkook followed you like he normally loved to.

"So...how are you? I've tried calling a few times." He tried his best not to sound so desperate and lame because he had lost count of how many calls and texts were sent to you.

"I'm okay," your eyes focused on the task before you, "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I've been busy with work. New tv show and all," you explained dryly.

"How…how are you?"

Miserable, he thought. Wished you would've spoken to him instead of avoiding the situation, but he knew you were in a tight spot with Yuna. "I've been okay too."

"I see you have a new piercing." You pointed at the two silver beads poking through his skin. He really was a menace, getting everything pierced and tattooed. You wouldn't be surprised if he were covered from head to toe in tattoos in a few years.

His eyes darted up to his piercing, lightly touching it. "Oh--yeah, this thing," he chuckled, "I did it on a whim."

"Sounds like you," you grinned, setting down the last place card.

"I miss that smile," he said, "I miss you."

That hurt more than you thought it would. Hearing him say that made your heart ache deeply in your chest. You peered at him, mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"Can we talk?" he interrupted your thought, but the clinking of a wine glass stole your attention.

"Everyone, dinner will be served in two minutes," Ari, Yuna's wedding planner, stated.

"Um, can we talk later? We're gonna start soon."

By the time he wanted to say something, you had already dashed off to your table. He sighed in defeat. He knew you were avoiding him, avoiding talking about your feelings for him.

You, along with the rest of the wedding party, sat at the front facing guests and family members. Yuna gently nudged you while Ari continued going over tonight's festivities.

"You have a speech prepared, right?" Yuna whispered, gritting through her teeth, smiling at the crowd.

Your eyes widened. "You want me to give a speech?" Even after everything the two of you had recently gone through, she still wanted you to say something nice about her and Namjoon?

"Of course I do, you're my best friend and maid of honor."

"But–"

"But what?" 

You were confused and stunned. "You've barely spoken to me these last few weeks."

"So, you're not going to then?" Yuna gave you her best puppy eyes.

"I mean I can," you said with reluctance. Right now, you didn't feel qualified as a good friend to give a speech. Yes, you knew her and Namjoon the best but considering she had been leaving you out in the cold these past few weeks, her indifference towards you was unclear. Did she love you or hate you?

"Shit--here's the mic," she whispered, then beamed a big smile looking out to the crowd.

Your eyes widened, and you took a big gulp as you received the microphone. Shit. You weren't ready. You didn't have anything prepared, but you stood up anyway as all eyes were on you.

“Hi, everyone. I'm Y/n, the maid of honor. I've been best friends with Yuna since we were kids. And I couldn't be more happy and excited for Yuna and Namjoon on this new journey. She is an amazing, smart, funny, beautiful, and loyal friend. Um, like all friendships, we've had our fair share of ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade her for anything else. I wouldn't be who I am today without her. And Namjoon, don't think I'll give her up so easily. *soft chuckle* I expect a permanent spot on your couch for many years. I've seen your love for each other grow and blossom so beautifully over these last few years, and I'm so glad to have known you two together and apart. You two inspire me to also search for a love like yours.”

You looked briefly at Jungkook as he was looking down at the table and fiddling with his thumbs. Yuna could see your eyes starting to become glazed over with tears. You were trying your best to keep it together, but he just looked so heartbroken.

“Um,” you chuckled, “Sorry. I'm trying so hard not to cry right now.”

Yuna took your hand and tenderly squeezed it.

You cleared your throat. “Okay--get yourself together, Y/n,” you muttered, but the mic picked up on it.

A peal of soft laughter filled the room as you continued.

“As I look out into this room, I see the faces of close family and friends, and I'm happy to know that you guys have such a great support system behind you and Namjoon. If you ever hurt Yuna, know that Jungkookie–”

He looked up as you called his name.

“…and I will be there to keep you in check. I love you both so much. Everyone, please raise your glass to toast Yuna and Namjoon. Congratulations, and I hope your life together will bring many years of love and laughter to each other and to everyone around you. Cheers.”

You looked at Jungkook and raised your glass to him, and he did the same. As much as this speech was supposed to be for Yuna and Namjoon, it also confirmed that you wanted to pursue Jeon Jungkook.

✨ previous chapter ~ we can't do this

✨ next chapter ~ you deserve everything and more

[frieschan]

QUERENCIA, chapter 2.5

(n.) where one feels home ; the place where you are your most authentic self

pairing - hybrid! ot7 x bunny hybrid! male! reader

genre - 18+, college au, hybrid au, fluff, eventual angst, eventual smut, humour

summary - you, a rabbit hybrid away from home to study, run into a group of surprisingly friendly and calm (also very attractive) predators who are a pack and live together suddenly run into your life like a bulldozer. the dull days of your life may turn into days of joy and laughter, or will the days turn into gloom and a sad everafter?

warnings (this chapter) - smol bit of angst but ends fluffy, not beta-read

word count - tba

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Jungkook woke sluggish and tired. He ended up sleeping at 5 am because of staying up all night playing overwatch with his good friend Minho, right now he was starting to regret that. The wolf sat up on his bed and reached to his bed-side table to grab his phone and water bottle. He unlocked his phone with the right hand, while the left was used for taking sips from his bottle to remove the uncomfortable dryness in his throat. As he unlocked his phone, he noticed that the apartment sounded eerily quiet, compared to the usual loud yells from Jin and the contiguous laughs of Jimin and Hobi. He quickly put his bottle next to him on the bed and opened up the messaging app.

Now in Taehyung's perspective, he looked at you from the outside side of the cafe where he was sat. You looked adorable with your cute little chubby cheeks hidden under the gray hood of your hoodie. He watched as you sip on your what looks like.. a chocolate oreo milkshake? Even your choice of drink was cute.

He decided to build up the confidence and walked into the store. He looked at you for a few seconds before approaching your table with a determined smile. You give the Tiger Hybrid a questioning look and raised brow, but sure that he wouldn't do anything bad. He looked to be around your age, a young undoubtedly handsome, tiger hybrid that any girl or guy would swoon for. He had dark brown hair, dark as in you could only tell it was brown if he was under a certain lighting or if you were close enough. He had 3 beautiful moles, perfect honey tan skin, eyes that were unique, well structured face, pink and adorable lips, he was both handsome and beautiful.

"Hey excuse me, I was wondering if I could get your number? You're really cute" Taehyung asked politely, catching you by surprise with his question. Did this god-crafted man just ask you on a date? Was the deity up there blessing you with these mouth wattering men? Why? Well you weren't about to lose this opportunity, but you weren't about to just give someone you didn't know your personal information. You were better than that.

You blushed at his offer "Well, I'd at least want to get to know you first."

"Then, would you like to sit with me at my table?"

You smile and agreed, following him to his table outside while bringing your milkshake and bag. When you reached the table, Taehyung pulled up a chair for you like a gentleman, him sporting a smile and looking at you expectantly. You smile back and muttering a Thank-You before taking the seat, him pushing the seat in before taking his own seat, in front of you. You put down your milkshake onto the table and look at his drink of choice. He had a half-eaten croissant, and what looked like.. Hot chocolate with cute art on top? Now that is an adorable choice.

"So, tell me about yourself, My attention is yours." He asked, putting up his elbow on the table and letting his chin rest on his palm, keeping each and every ounce of his attention on you. He was absolutely charming, you had to give him that.

"Well, I'm Y/N, 22, student at UoS, ballet student and I do ice-skating as a hobby. I swing the other way and I really reallyy like sweets."

"I see, nice to meet you Y/N-ssi. I'm Taehyung, but you can call me Tae or V, 23, same University, I like playing the saxophone, started liking men recently also. I also... don't like coffee."

You chuckle at his last remark before your phone started ringing. You look at him embarrassed and he nods at you, silently telling you that it's alright for you to take it. You take a quick glance at the name, seeing it as one of your good friends, Youngji the chaos wrecker.

As you were talking to Youngji you didn't notice Taehyung going on his phone and taking a quick photo of you and sending it to their groupchat.

As you clicked the Stop Call button, you glanced up to see Taehyung looking down in shame with big guilty eyes and furrowed eyebrows. He was no longer holding the confident and laid-back pose he had and now has a pose that a child would have when they were caught guilty.

"Is everything alright, hyung?" You put your hand onto the table in a comforting manner, reaching out to him but only if he would meet you half-way.

"I took a photo of you without your consent and sent it to my pack.." He whispered enough just for you to hear, he took a small peek at your reaction before going back to glare down at his lap.

You were taken aback, surprised at his response. "Why'd you do that?" making sure your tone was soft and sounded as you weren't upset, sure it wasn't the ideal situation but as long as it wasn't for any malicious reason, there wouldn't be any need for you to be upset.

"I wanted to show my pack the guy I'm interested in.."

"Oh.. Tae, sweetheart, that's alright! Well, maybe someone else wouldn't be okay with it but for me, I'm absolutely fine with it." You reassure him with a comforting smile. "It wasn't for any bad reason so honestly, that's mostly what matters for me."

Taehyung finally removes his glare from his lap and looked up at you with big glassy eyes, his lips shaking and looking at you with so much joy. You felt like you were about to just run to him and shove him in your pocket. Now there was another guy in your list of "hot-guys that you'd totally hit".

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TAGLIST - @blehhhidk, @instantnarwhal, @singukieee, @weepyalex, @kaceypdf (just comment or dm to be added in masterlist !!, crossed out are people I couldn't tag)

notes - uhmm just a mini chapter b4 all the active readers of this kill me...

copyright © 2023 | frieschan

[blorbocedes]

perhaps this is me being shallow and i’m not trying to insinuate that every driver on the grid has to be gunning for a wdc but i don’t understand why anyone would turn down a rb contract at this stage? i mean if the rumours about alex refusing the seat are true i just… idk i know he’s been personally victimised by helmut marko before and been through the rb ringer but he’s a much better much more skilled and experienced driver right now and if it were me i’d personally want to test my skills against max. rb is the most coveted seat right now, it’s an opportunity to get regular podiums and even wins if max messes up or you’re simply faster. i don’t enjoy this “running from a fight” mentality (not saying that’s what alex is doing rn cause ofc there are other things at play) and it is in fact one of the reasons ****** sorta fell out of my favour. anyway i hope this makes sense haha not a native speaker, and not trying to be rude i just… don’t get it. i had similar thoughts about lando before, when horner said they’d talk to lando and then he’d only use that as leverage in his mclaren contracts. but baffling to me to come all the way to f1 after dedicating your life to it and then just going “nah” when you have the chance to be in the best car cause the other might be better than you. i mean when max got to rb daniel was the guy who had just pulverised 4-time wdc vettel, and you didn’t see him hesitte to jump in the car mid-season

when you sign a redbull contract now, you know you're effectively going to play second driver until 2028. yes Alex is a more complete driver now and would prob fare much better vs Max now, but he's also been through the RBR ringer like you said. going back would mean adjusting to an entirely new car while Max has only driven redbulls, AND getting scrutinised 2x because of his prev performance. anything below p2 is considered underperforming in the best car, and that's a lot of pressure and ofc your ego having to handle being "Max's bitch." pulling a rosberg against a generational talent is not easy. at Williams alex is personally more involved and treated as team leader and the car has improved from being the worst back marker to a solid midfielder, with Alex outdriving it.

also. job security in f1 is notoriously limited with 20 seats and rookies from f2 vying to get in. let's say alex goes to RBR. he either has to hope they let him drive until 2028 and finally get a shot at the championship (if 2026 regulations don't turn it into a junk box) and no second driver is getting a 5 year contract. Valtteri went from the best car to a backmark/midfielder. He's not even in question when silly season rolls around for the Ferraris and Bulls, despite being a solid second driver who picked off wins when Lewis dnf'd. they might scout him for Audi because they need an experienced driver for development. your career moving from the best car can only go Down. Alex already had a year off from f1 as a reserve driver when RB booted him, whatever choices he makes -- it'll be with a long term goal in mind.

Alex has said recently that if the Williams doesn't improve, he will look at other options -- as he should! He's being scouted by multiple teams. The improvements of the Aston Martin and even Mclaren have shown absolute backmarkers can become podium contending cars within a season! you'd prefer to succeed with a team that knows you and will accommodate to you than a top team where you're expected to play someone else's defense. Which brings me to lando. Lando is in the curious case Max was in 2017/18, where all the top teams were courting him. He had offers from Ferrari and Merc, while nobody knew if the RB Honda deal would work, and the RB was DNFing every other race. redbull convinced max to stay, that they'll develop the car around him and they will become a top team. I'm sure mclaren is doing the same to lando, that's the only team he's driven for and he's getting paid Very Well, the team principal is literally invested in his business, and they started this season around p19/p20, and finished it on podium. the results are there, why would he move to rbr to pick off max's crumbs?

do you know who absolutely did run from a fight? daniel. bc RB had no outright driver hierarchy in 2018, they literally stated they wanted to win a championship with daniel -- but max was too much of a rising star and daniel dipped, leaving the only team his career had anything notable from.

[3-2-whump]

Caretaker 2 Intro: The Flicker of a Spark

<prev next>

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter for beta-reading this monstrosity!

TW/CW: blood, briefly mentioned scars, not sure what else, tbh

Author's Note: I know like a high school level of Spanish, I studied abroad in a Spanish-speaking country for one semester in college, and I spent more than two hours researching what cholo Spanish sounds like. That being said, if I got anything wrong, please tell me, and be kind about it. I am only human, but I would very much like to know one way or the other <3

Set five days after this

Nico, dude, pls respond.

Read 01:10 am

Khaled shook his head with a frustrated huff. Here he was, walking the streets several blocks away from his master’s apartment well after dark, texting his best (only) friend on the clandestine cellphone he had gotten for him, and that bastard left him on read. He lobbed a discarded can across the sidewalk with a well-placed kick.

 He had never realized how used to his friend’s welcoming smile and wholesome presence he’d become, until he’d had to go without. It had been five days. Five days of eating alone. Five days of trying to meet his eyes when they drove out at the end of the day, but to no avail. Nico could barely look at him, and the few times he did, it was with such palpable guilt.

But there was no reason to feel guilty. Even if he did feel betrayed by how easily his supposed friend fell in line, Khaled knew Nico didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, he has every right to choose his own future over a relationship with me. I would’ve done the same, he justified.

I’m not worth the trouble.

He was so lost in his mind as he mulled over the day’s events, that it took an unfamiliar presence bumping into his shoulder to bring him back to the present. A large man with a goatee bore his tobacco-stained teeth at him. “Hey, you, watch yourself!”

He ignored the stranger who bumped into him as he brushed past him and kept walking.

“What, you’re just going to ignore me, now? Who do you think you are?!” the man shouted.

A shorter, thin-eyed man walking alongside him joined in the provocation. “You heard him, vato,” he sneered, pockmarked face scrunched in a scowl. “You gonna come back here and apologize, or are we gonna have to make you?”

And, honestly, Khaled probably could’ve ignored the heckling and went on with his night in peace, until one of their tattooed hands gripped his shoulder and pulled him back towards them.

Within seconds, the larger man howled in pain as he recoiled his broken fingers from Khaled’s personal space. The other guy cursed something in a language Khaled did not understand, then turned toward him, fury blazing in his eyes. “¡Pendejo! So, that’s how it’s gonna be?!” With no other warning, he rushed toward him with a roar, his hands curled into fists. Were it not for the many escape attempts that devolved into fistfights, Khaled probably wouldn’t have stood much of a chance against his opponent. However, all that experience running away from and fighting off the mafia’s cronies had finally paid off. He deftly evaded the man’s haphazard punches, weaving in and out like a stubborn mosquito until he was finally able to land a jab up his opponent’s ribcage. Just as the second man crumpled gasping to the ground, the first one got up again, charging with his good hand raised. Khaled dodged that fist, too, quickly catching it and wrenching the man’s arm painfully behind his back. A well-placed elbow into his stomach knocked the breath from him. It could’ve been worse –he’d dealt with much harder hits before –but it was enough to make him loosen his grip. His opponent wrestled back control of his arm and punched Khaled square in the jaw, his teeth rattling discordantly in his mouth. He tasted the metallic tang of blood. He collected himself just enough to block the second hit in time, though the force of it felt as if it would break his forearm. A kick to the back of his knees brought him down to the concrete with a harsh thud, and soon the second man was dragging him up, arms pinned helplessly behind his back. “You shouldn’t have fucked with us, you-”

“Vatos, vatos, cálmate, todos.”

A clear voice rose from the fight scene. The man pinning Khaled dropped him instantly, letting him fall onto the pavement as he reverently addressed the source of the voice. “Julio,” he greeted, instantly backing away. Khaled glanced to the other man, who was also opening space between them as he tucked his broken fingers into his side. In front of them, along with half a dozen other men, stood one tall, thin young man in the center carrying himself with the confident presence of an apex predator, a leader –or a Boss, Khaled’s thoughts supplied. His dark hair was shorn close to his scalp, save for a choppy bleached mohawk running down the center. A glimmer of a piercing shone in the right cheekbone of his olive-skinned face, matching the barbell in his left eyebrow and rivaling the dangerous glint in his knife-sharp eyes. He wore an oversized army green parka over his upper body, well-loved and well-worn, if the custom patches and frayed seams were any indication. His long thin legs were clothed in dark track pants, tapering to spotless Chuck Taylors on his feet. Those feet walked calmly towards the three, stopping a mere pace and a half from them. “What’s going on here, primo?” he asked the first man, the one who provoked the fight. “It’s not like you to go two on one on some poor fucker like that.”

“I know, I know, but I didn’t think it would be so hard to beat some sense into him,” the man complained. “That little twig really made me and Luis work for it!”

Julio glanced skeptically at Khaled, who had just recollected himself from the ground. “What, him?” The corners of the Boss’ mouth turned up in a deriding smirk. “Are you getting so rusty, Alphonso, that you can’t even handle one skinny little twink?”

“Why don’t you try fighting this ‘skinny little twink’ yourself, you fucking beanpole?” Khaled’s mouth replied before his common sense could catch up. The smirk on Julio’s face dropped only a moment, until it was replaced with a wider, shit-eating grin. The golden hazel of his eyes reminded him of a cat’s eyes in the way they glowed with the pleasure of finding a mouse to toy with before they eat.

“Alright, he speaks!” He reached a tattooed hand from the depths of his parka to help Khaled stand up on his feet. His knuckles read ‘FUCK.’ Khaled didn’t have to guess what his other hand said. “You wanna go, pendejo, let’s go!” Julio laughed. He stepped back to his entourage to shed his coat, revealing long, sinewy tattooed limbs sticking out from a large t-shirt, its sleeves cut off and band logo long since faded. The gang formed a circle around them, giving Khaled and Julio plenty of space to have their fight while making any chance of escape impossible.

“Look.” Khaled raised his hands palms-out, his momentary bravado quickly forgotten, “I just want to go home, okay?”

“And you will, if you win,” Julio said, stretching his long limbs methodically as his catlike eyes sized up his prey. “But you wandered into our territory, and you pissed off my cousin. You gotta answer to that, you know, and if I win, I will make sure you do.” He dropped into a crouching stance, muscles tense as a bowstring, practically twitching with anticipation. “Now, let’s fight!”

Cheers erupted over the impromptu crowd as the two circled around each other, looking for the right place and moment to strike. Julio’s fist arched up like a whistling arrow and bore down toward Khaled’s face. He blocked it, wincing a little at the impact on his already bruised forearm. For being as skinny as he is, this guy sure has some force behind those hits, he thought. He successfully blocked a couple more punches –though barely-, and gradually Julio drove him from the sidewalk to the middle of the road, the crowd parting for the fighters and cheering all the while.

After another successful block, Khaled found an opportunity to land a kick to his opponent’s ribs. He swung his leg toward the man’s ribs. Just before his foot could meet Julio’s side, the tattooed hand whose knuckles spelled ‘YOU!’ caught it in a death grip. Khaled paled. “Nuh uh,” Julio tutted. He yanked up, unbalancing Khaled and sending him crashing to the hard asphalt. The fall knocked the breath out of him for only a moment as he fell onto his back. With enough presence of mind to remember he was still fighting, he swept his other foot at Julio’s ankles and brought him tumbling down to the trash-littered street too.

The crowd’s cheers grew frenzied as their Boss and the trespasser tackled, rolled, and straddled each other across the broken glass and loose rubble on the ground. Khaled wrested his fingers into Julio’s mohawk to hold him still as he hit him. Julio sunk his fingers into the top portion of Khaled’s undercut and slammed his head into the asphalt. Golden eyes like knives gleamed with the promise of a painful end as the man on top of him snarled like a beast. All too soon, Julio ended up mounted on top of Khaled, sitting on his chest, one hand on his throat, the other hand raised and primed.

Is this it?

The wildcat could finally eat his kill.

Is this how it ends?

In place of fear, or sorrow, or even the base need of every creature to get up and fight in the face of a threat to their survival, Khaled surprisingly felt nothing but peace as he stared into those aureate irises.

Why am I so okay with this?

“Go ahead,” Khaled spat between bloodied lips. He no longer pressed against the hand holding his throat. He lay his head back beside the ashes of long-extinguished cigarettes. “You win.”

Those knife sharp eyes met his, and for a second, they softened. Golden hazel melted into deep brown. The wildcat sheathed his claws.

It was only a second later that Julio was helping Khaled off the asphalt, brushing the dirt and broken glass from both their clothes all the while. The keen sharpness of his eyes returned, as if the momentary lapse in the Boss’ composure had never happened. “Hey, you got pretty close, man.” He collected his coat back from his posse and fished around the pockets, eventually pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He wordlessly offered Khaled one, but he politely refused. “Been awhile since I threw some serious chingasos,” he said as he lit his cigarette. “Been even longer since someone was able to throw it back at me.” He leaned against a nearby lamp post as he huffed a plume of smoke into the night. “No way just some random guy could stand a chance against me. Who are you with, twink?”

“The name’s Khaled, beanpole,” Khaled bristled. “And I’m with the Costas.”

“Ha, the Costas? The Costas?” Julio took another drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, and I’m the fucking pope,” he snickered. His gang awkwardly laughed alongside him.

Khaled brought his bloodied fingers up to the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head and turning around to show his exposed back and shoulders. The laughing immediately ceased. The bluish-black ink of the skull and snake insignia was tattooed starkly on his skin, just above old, crisscrossing scars. “How in the fuck–you bear their mark, you really are a –but, how?” he sputtered. “They’re old-school mafia, there’s no way they’d just let you –you’re not even –how?!”

He slipped his shirt back on and turned to face his astounded former opponent. “It’s a long story that I don’t feel like telling,” he muttered.

“What about those scars-”

“-but I am unquestionably a Costa, and therefore I am under my Boss’ protection,” Khaled continued, interrupting Julio’s question. Speaking of ‘Boss,’ he’s gonna kill me he if he wakes up and finds out I snuck out this late, he belatedly realized. He awkwardly raised a hand and waved. “Now, I really must get back to my Boss. Goodnight.” He turned to leave.

He didn’t make it more than two steps before the rival Boss called out to him. “Wait, Khaled-”

All too suddenly, the moment of potential comradery was ruined by a car pulling up next to their semicircle. The gang protectively huddled around their leader as some of them immediately assumed defensive stances. The window to the familiar car rolled down.

“Khaled! Jesus, I was worried sick!” Thomas shouted, his voice nasally and unusually low with congestion. The man paused his scolding when he took in Khaled’s new cuts and bruises he didn’t make. “What happened to your face?” He turned his head to glare at Julio, who was glaring back with equal amounts of animosity. “Estrada, did you do this?!”

“Boss, I’m fine, really,” Khaled said, leaving the tightly knit group of guys and making his way to his master’s car. “I was going to get you some cough drops -you’re out, remember? It’s settled, I won… I think…” He made his way to the passenger side door and let himself in. “Let’s just go home so I can ice my face, okay?”

The man grumbled his dissent, but reluctantly pulled away, driving Khaled back to the apartment they shared.

“Those chop shop sons of bitches are bad news, boy,” Thomas warned. “They’ve got no honor! Stealing and scrapping whatever they can find, infringing on our territory, the territory my family fought for, just to –they kill for cash, you know!” They pulled into his usual spot in the underground garage as the rant sent the boss into a coughing fit. “Shameless,” he sighed. “I don’t want you anywhere near them, understood?”

Khaled wisely said nothing.

Thomas glanced at Khaled’s lap, frowning when he didn’t see a convenience store bag in his hands. “Did you even get a chance to buy those cough drops?”

Rather than being caught in his lie, Khaled decided to go for a half-truth. “No, master.”

Thomas huffed, which triggered another cough. “You know, you are so lucky I am sick right now,” he groused on the way from the parking garage to the elevator. “I barely had the energy to drag my ass down here to get the car and rescue you. And I definitely don’t have the energy to beat some sense into you!”

As Khaled later stripped himself to prepare for a shower, he paused as he noticed a small business card in his pants pocket. How in the hell –what? His mind replayed any and every possible moment Julio or someone else could’ve slipped something into his pocket without him noticing.

He carefully lifted it out as he shucked his pants off his legs and threw them into the hamper. It was the business card to an auto repair shop, with ten numbers underneath.

“Wait, Khaled-” The way Julio said his name replayed in a loop in his head as he stared at the ten-digit phone number with his secret phone in hand.

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