#she is only calm when she’s sleeping otherwise she is a terror child

[teejay-kaye]

is this not basically how Scylla’s acquisition went down in the Dutchman Baby AU-

(listen I know technically when they got her they weren’t fish people yet but I refuse to draw normal humans if there is any alternative and it was funnier this way anyway)

[raging-violets]

[ TERROR ] - sender hugs receiver out of sheer fear. + issi!

Narnia: A Nightmare to Remember // Prompt // Prince Caspian and Issi Winters (OC)

A/N: Set during The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Issi stepped across the carpeted floor, further into Caspian’s cabin. She was used to the cramped space in the room she shared with Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace. Used to sharing her bedroom when a lone child refugee came across the Winters’ doorstep. Used to snuggling close to her mother to feel some comfort on the longer nights when her father had been held captive overseas. She had even grown used to the small room she had been held prisoner in Lord Miraz’s castle.  

Open, seemingly endless spaces were, now, what made her wary. Had her on edge. There were too many hiding places. Too many opportunities for someone to sneak up behind her. Still, there was some comfort in seeing Caspian’s form settled behind his large oak desk in the otherwise vast room. He briefly looked at her, the glow of the lamp dancing over his face, alighting his dark eyes, as the room tilted and swayed around them.

“Can’t sleep.” He said it more as an observation than a question. Even if he had asked, she didn’t think she could answer. The coldness of her fear still clutched at her throat with its sharp fingers, making her as uncomfortable as the rain water that pulled her bed clothing down around her shoulders. Stepping over to the, Issi gave a slight nod of her head. “Must have been some dream.”

“Nightmare, really,” she managed to reply, barely moving her lips. People on ships see weird things all the time. Things they can’t explain. Things that aren’t there.  

“Seems to be going ‘round the crew,” Caspian commented. He looked over his shoulder and out the window to the roiling seas, flashes of lightning, and cracks of thunder. “Edmund and Lucy are up, too.” Issi took a step towards him, throwing out a hand to stop herself from careening into the bookshelf at the sudden pitch to the left.  

“And my mum says it’s a gentle rocking that will soothe even the fussiest of babes,” she commented as she steadied herself.

“I was warned about the sea.” Caspian’s gaze was still on the water crashing against the windows. “What all this time would do to us. How it can mess with the mind. When you’re this far out, and it’s dark, when the seas are calm, it can be tough to tell when the sky ends, and the horizon begins.”

“Tis a mighty thing of beauty,” Issi said. It was still eerie to feel the wind rush past her on the deck on the clearest of days, and yet it made no noise to announce its presence. There were no trees to rush through. No wind chimes. Just that feeling that something had brushed past your skin, and just as gently leaves you. All without a sound. Dreams and nightmares could only be so vividly odd.

Twisting halls leading to nowhere, Issi still raced through Miraz’s castle, through doors, trying to find a way out. Upstairs. Downstairs. Freedom outside the windows she seemed to never be able to reach. Never be able to touch. And chasing her, knowing every move she made, always behind her, the sound of creaking armor. Of commands of her return. Of Jadis, her voice encircling her head, bouncing from ear to ear, enticing to her left, waspish to her right. To the bodies of the fallen Narnians lining the corridors, staining the already red carpets an even deeper shade of mahogany. She rushed through another door and was rooted to the spot upon coming to a lion who struck her with a fierce gaze, enveloping her with a loud roar.

Only when she felt his arms wrapped around her and looked up to find Caspian pulling her to him in a hug, did she realize she was shaking. When he had crossed the room, she couldn’t recall, but accepted his hug, for she could feel the unspoken fear in him, too.

-

Tag List: @witchofinterest @arrthurpendragon @itsjustgracy @darknightfrombeyond @ocappreciationtag​

[littlewinter1917]

🐾 four paws and a home 🐾

My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI. 🔞 Don’t repost my work anywhere.

Words: 3.2k

Summary: After the events of Starcourt Mall and months trapped in the local hospital, Billy finally gets a service dog and some healing.

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, depression, suicidal ideation and thoughts, survivor’s guilt, nightmares, past trauma and abuse.

A/N: This story going to be split into multiple parts, because otherwise this will be way too long! The service dog will make her first actual cameo in the next part; so I hope this chapter isn’t considered false advertisement.

When Dr. Owens first mentioned the possibility of a service dog to Billy, he’s initially a little skeptical. 

He’s been tied to his hospital bed for the past few months now, not literally, of course, but what difference does it make when he’s rendered almost immobile for the first few weeks, with no means to escape the hell he’s found himself in.

It’s a miracle that he woke up on his own, that he’s alive, that he survived, they say. 

But to Billy it doesn’t feel like a miracle.

It feels like a goddamn mistake.

For the first month he wasn’t even able to steadily breathe on his own, let alone walk around or do anything autonomously.

And Billy hates it; hates the dependency on the nurses and the doctors that all regard him with varying pitying faces, like they secretly feel bad for his survival too. And he hates how his fingers still shake when he tries to hold something as simple as a fucking fork.

Hates how he craves the gentle words and touches of the nightshift nurses, when they wake him from yet another one of his vivid nightmares and terrors.

Hates how he falls asleep with angry tears in his eyes, thinking that death would’ve been a lot more merciful than whatever this current cruelty is.

Because it sure as hell isn’t living to Billy.

He’s exhausted when he wakes up and he’s exhausted when he goes to sleep, and he’s exhausted when Max comes by for a visit, and when she leaves again, too.

He’s always exhausted, always in pain, always secretly wishing for it to just stop.

He’s always exhausted, always in pain, always secretly wishing for it to just stop.

It feels infantilizing and dehumanizing to now be so utterly dependent on people when he used to be anything but.

He never had anyone to rely on for most of his life, only his rage, that seemingly endless anger crawling and scratching away deeply within his toned chest, coming out in waves of reckless actions and spiteful words. And his strength, something that’s never been anything more than a shallow forefront for the weak little boy he’s been hiding all along. 

But now it’s just like he’s been stripped of everything that he once considered safety.

Stripped of his strength and muscles, his intimidating looks, his dignity, his independence, and his will to live.

He doesn’t even know what’s left of him, really, as he’s hiding in that crumbled-up hospital gown, close to tears again, because Max brought over some of his old clothes for his release date tomorrow; only for him to find out that they really, really don’t fit him at all anymore.

Instead, everything looks three sizes too big on him now. He seems almost as small as he feels, and he can’t stop crying.

Can’t stop crying about how he looks more like a vulnerable child than a young man; feels like one, too.

And Billy hates how he finds more comfort in that ugly ass hospital gown that he quickly takes rescue in again. Stripping himself of his old Metallica shirt, and tossing it with hardly any power into the nearest corner.

He curls himself up on his bed as he tries to calm himself down, but each time he sees glimpses of the discarded fabric, or any of the other stuff Max brought over, he’s close to tears again.

He wants to rip things apart; scream, yell, and cry out loud until the walls of his cold hospital room crumble and fall apart like he does every fucking night.

At least no one’s there to witness him this time around, but that’s hardly any relief.

Most things aren’t these days.

Not the therapy, not the countless meds and pills and liquids they pump into his body like air into a fucking inflatable sex doll.

Billy feels just as lifeless, just as dull, just as misused and violated. 

And helpless.

So helpless.

So, when there’s a knock on his door, he wants to scream, ‘Go away. Leave me alone!’

But he simply doesn’t have the strength for it.

Not anymore.

Instead, he just curls himself up more on his little twin sized bed, hoping, wishing, begging, that if he just makes himself small enough, hiding behind the covers, maybe he won’t be seen, won’t be bothered; won’t be picked up tomorrow to live in a goddamn trailer park, where he’ll undoubtedly wake up Max and Susan with his terrified screams every single night.

Until they’ll get tired of him as well, secretly wishing that death had swallowed him too, on that unfortunate day in Starcourt Mall, like the blue tinted bleach that he had been forced to drink in gallons.

He wouldn’t blame them for feeling like this. After all, he feels like this every. fucking. night.

The knock on his door repeats itself. 

The wish to disappear does too.

But just like all the countless times back in California, when Billy tried to make himself as small and unnoticeable, just to avoid his dads wrath, it doesn’t work.

It never does.

It never did.

There’s another knock, but this time it’s followed by the careful opening of the door.

“Billy, are you awake?”

It’s Doctor Owens gentle voice, and Billy feels like crying again.

Maybe he never stopped feeling this way. 

Or worse, maybe he’ll never stop feeling this way. 

He notices Owens presence making his way into the room. Hears his soft steps on the gray linoleum tiles, but he can’t bring himself to turn around in his bed to face the doctor.

Can’t bear to be witnessed like this. 

Eyes blood shot, tear-stained cheeks and lips that never really stop quivering.

He feels small and vulnerable and raw, like the healing wounds and scars scattered all around his broken body that he keeps picking at when he can’t sleep at night. 

Which is most nights, anyway. 

And it’s not like Owens never witnessed him like this before. Hell, he’s been this exact same way for the last few months, ever since his body was foolish enough to wake up for some unexplainable and unfortunate reason. 

‘Things will get better over time’, Owens always says, but Billy has yet to witness any of it.

At this point, he doesn’t think he will. 

Owens takes one look through the tiny room. The looming pile of clothes abandoned on the edge of Billy’s bed, the discarded shirt laying carelessly in one corner, the way Billy’s wearing his gown inside out, like he just hastily threw it on again, without really looking, or thinking, or caring; like he did it in a fit of pure panic. 

And he knows.

But Owens doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t acknowledge it other than by making a little mental note to get the boy some soft cotton shirts a few sizes smaller once he’s off work later.

Noticing the faded metal-band logos on some of them, he also adds the quiet reminder to maybe talk to that Munson kid, because god knowswhere those metal heads usually get their shirts from. He certainly doubts that he’ll find them in GAP or Benetton. 

“Billy, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Owens voice is still gentle and kind, as he makes his way around Billy’s hospital bed, facing the curled up and quietly sniffling boy, hiding behind his covers.

There’s a white metal chair next to the bed, with a faded copy of Lord of the Rings perched upon it. 

It’s the book that Max has been reading to him from.

Their progress is only slow, because Billy’s still so exhausted most days that he just falls asleep after a chapter or two, making Max have to read certain passages twice, because Billy drifted off to them the first time around.

But there’s progress nevertheless, even if it doesn’t feel like that to Billy.

He hasn’t yet noticed the trail of pages, scattered with smoothed-out dog-ears that make up half of the book by now, telling the story of how far they’ve come with it.

How far he’s come already. 

“I have this thing I need to talk to you about.” Owens repeats carefully, after having placed the book on the nearby nightstand instead.

“I’ve already signed all the NDAs. I won’t talk Doc; I promise.”

Billy’s voice is weak and hoarse. The evidence of all the nights he wakes up screaming and all the days he ends up crying painfully clear.

And it breaks something in Owens heart, because even after treating Billy for the last few months, the abused boy still thinks that those damn NDAs are all that Owens really cares about, deep, deep down.

Like that’s the most important thing. 

That, and Billy’s complacency in covering up his own trauma and abuse with the laughable lie of a fucking mall fire.

But things couldn’t be further from the truth because Owens does care a lot about Billy. He honestly wishes he’d met the poor boy sooner, because Billy had been through hell and back before he even got possessed by the mindflayer.

He’d already been a textbook example of a BPD and C-PTSD patient, deserving of help and support before he even had to face the inter-dimensional horrors of Hawkins in the most violating and traumatizing ways. 

But for Billy it was just another cruel abuse cycle in a long and almost endless pattern of being violated, humiliated, stripped of his dignity, and left all alone and abandoned to fend for himself, like he had to for most of his life.

It’s trauma packed on top of trauma, like a disgusting, moldy wedding cake.

Owens can see that Billy still struggles a lot. It will take patience, and tough work, and the passing of time to mend the kind of wounds that go so much deeper than his bodily scars and broken bones.

The kind of wounds imprinted on his soul.

The kind of wounds that infected and took over the boy’s mind from a very, very young age, to a point where the pains caused by it are almost considered a part of him by now.

His mother’s abandonment, his father’s abuse. His father’s abandonment, the mindflayer’s abuse. 

These are wounds that will leave the most lingering scars, with phantom pains just like the bodily ones. But unfortunately, they’re so much more difficult to treat.

“This is not about those stupid NDA’s.” Sam Owens clarifies, as his eyes wander over Billy’s curled up frame. 

“No?” Billy mumbles from somewhere beneath the small blanket and fluffy pillow.

“No.” Owens repeats reassuringly.

“I talked to your sister; you know.”

Oh god, Billy thinks. Maybe they don’t want him in to take shelter in the trailer anymore. 

The distress that takes over his body at the thought hits him like a wave, but Owens hasn’t noticed it yet. 

Thank fuck for the blanket. 

“She told me that you’d always liked dogs, is that right?” 

Billy thinks he must have really misheard something now, so he pokes his head out from beneath the sheet like a little turtle, regarding Owens with questioning eyes. 

“Maybe…” He admits sheepishly. 

“Well, Max told me that you used to be absolutely crazy about dogs. Feeding the abandoned, stray ones at the beach in Cali all the time. But you never were allowed to keep a dog yourself, and so I thought, maybe you’d want one now instead?” 

Billy blinks. 

Once.

Twice.

Trying to figure out if this is a fucking hallucination or a weird ass joke.

But Owens looks very much real and very much serious, and Billy can’t help but laugh.

It feels foreign, the raspy laughter bubbling up in his chest and leaving his mouth in little heaps.

“I didn’t know you were allowed to smoke stuff too, Doc.” He wheezes in between shaky breaths because this has to be a joke, right?

“Me? A dog? I can barely stand on two legs, and you think a dog would be a good idea? Putting me down like one might be, but keeping a dog is like the least wise thing I can think of.”

The frown that settles on Doctor Owens face is littered with concern and worry. 

“Billy, do you still want to die?” He inquires, voice careful, like he’s walking through dangerous territory now. Hot coals maybe, or a pond of sleeping crocodiles. 

Billy doesn’t answer, but the challenging look that the boy throws his way seems to say: What do you think, Doc? 

“Billy, you know I can’t let you go if I suspect that you might be a danger to yourself after your release, remember?”

“Well, I would hardly call this living.” Billy bites back, the bitterness in his voice only companioned by salty tears in his eyes, again.

And he hates it. Hates himself for being so goddamn weak.

Pussy. His father’s and the mindflayer’s voice taunt him.

Fucking useless pussy.

Little weakling.

Look at how you disappoint everyone! Can’t even fight back those tears, can you? Let alone fight- 

“Billy,” Owens calls out even gentler now, as he watches the boy struggle with his own internal battle.

And Billy looks up at him, wide-eyed and startled, before embarrassment settles on his features. 

“I just don’t want to live like this.” He whispers, after a potent pause, and Owens nods his head in understanding, before stating, seemingly out of the blue: “You know, having a pet sometimes helps with that too.”

The furrow between Billy’s eyebrows is getting increasingly deeper at the Doctors words. 

“You think the power of love from a puppy is going to heal me?”

And Owens has to almost bite back a smile at Billy’s sarcastic comment because he can kind of see now where Max probably got most of her feistiness from too.

“Well, believe it or not, but there have been these studies done that suggest having a pet might reduce both depressive episodes and loneliness.

The bond between an animal and their owner can be healing for both parties, and being tasked with caring for another living creature that depends on your support might help with soothe suicidal thoughts as well.

Bearing the responsibility of some small being’s trust and having to look out for it, can help with gaining an added sense of purpose in the world; an additional reason to live, if you will.”

Billy tries to look unconvinced, but his rather bright and attentive eyes are giving him away easily now.

“You really think getting me a dog might help?”

Billy hates how hopeful his voice sounds, but at this point, Owens has seen him at his worst already. So, what’s a little misplaced hope at the idea of a dog he’s secretly wanted all his life.

“I think it could be worth a shot, yes. But it wouldn’t just be any dog, Billy. I’ve turned in a request for a service dog a few weeks ago to help as a support with your PTSD, and that request has just been authorized.”

“A service dog?” Billy questions warily, “Aren’t those, like, really expensive?”

“Yes, they usually are. But it would be taken care of by the government, so that’s nothing you need to worry about. All you need to tell me is if you think you’d be up for it. A dog can be a great source of support and healing, but it’s also a commitment that demands care, work, attention, and love. Max already told me she’d be willing to help with some of the responsibilities, like going on walks while you’re still recovering, but she does have one condition.”

Oh god, Billy thinks, he can already imagine what that could be. 

No loud Metallica records inside the trailer maybe; or an unlimited, lifetime long agency over the music being played inside the Camaro, or maybe Max just changed her mind and wants to keep the bigger room in the trailer for herself.

Honestly, whatever it is, Billy doesn’t really care, because now that he’s been introduced to Owens offer, he secretly really, really likes the idea of having a furry companion.

The prospect of it seems like a childhood dream come true, and in the midst of all his current and past nightmares that opportunity seems like a fucking lifeline to cling on to.

And boy does he cling to that. 

“What does the little shitbird want?” Billy just huffs with a cough after another beat of silence. 

“Well, Max only condition is getting her own dog too.”

And Billy can’t help the faint smile that spreads on his lips for the briefest of moments.

Because of course she would.

Owen regards Billy with benevolent eyes as he mulls over the doctors words. 

“So, do you agree to her condition?”

Billy faintly shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t mind, as long as Susan’s fine with it.” He states. 

Because, truth be told, while Billy still holds grudges against the woman, who used to quietly watch on whenever Neil threw abuse his way, she and Max are now the closest thing to family he has left. And he doesn’t want to get on her bad side already. Doesn’t want her to abandon him, too.

“Susan’s fine with it; the manager of the trailer park is fine with it; everyone is fine with it. I just need you to be fine with it too.” Owens says with a soft smile.

And Billy only nods his head with as much vigor as he can muster, because he’s slowly getting sleepy again; the previous excitement drowning in an endless sea of rising fatigue. 

“Okay, son, it’s decided then!” There’s a gentle pat on his shoulders before Owens adds: “We’ll pick out your new family members tomorrow, after you’ve been released.”

And Billy nods his head once more, before his eyes widen in sudden panic, making the doctor halt in his movement.

“What is it, Billy?”

The young man in question looks around the room again, not really meeting Owens eyes, or the pile of clothing at the end of his bed.

“I don’t really, I don’t really have anything to wear that fits.” He mumbles, cheeks and ears turned a fiery red.

“Oh, don’t worry about that! I’m already taking care of it. There’s a few things I can’t promise you, but one thing I certainly can is that you’ll get to pick out your little companion tomorrow while wearing the comfiest, coziest, and coolest clothes that all of Indiana has to offer.”

God, Owens thinks, please let that Munson kid be around. Otherwise, the phrase coolest clothes might have been an actual fucking lie.

And Owens doesn’t like lying to his friends or his family; and he’s been slowly considering Billy both. 

Billy looks unconvinced at Owens promise, but nods his head faintly anyway. He’s too tired now to bite anything sassy back; and by the time Owens gently closes the hospital room door behind him, Billy’s already drifted into a restless kind of sleep.

[wasted-my-time]

Genesis

Warnings: Mention of drugs, alcohol and child mistreatment.

-To put it briefly, my mother wasn't exactly the mom of the year... Billy began his tale.

He was six years old, he was hungry.

-Mommy, there's nothing to eat. He complained after checking the fridge for the fourth time and deciding that baking soda and the moss growing on a rotten apple weren't a complete meal.

-Mommy ain't got no money, so cope on your own, little prick! She yelled at him before taking another swig from her bottle of Jameson's.

He was nine, he was left alone, he didn't see his mother for three days, but he had a newspaper run and got himself a bit of money.Luckily, Kraft Dinner was cheap and using the neighbors' microwave oven was easy.

-I don't need help, I doing better without her, I don't need help. He slowly repeated himself as the device started beeping to signal his meal was ready.

He was thirteen, he had enough. Finding his mom passed out on the couch every time he got home starting to play with his mood.

-Where did you put my fucking white horse?! Was the first sign of her consciousness he had when he walked through the door.

-I didn't touch your heroin and you know it. He answered calmly in a vain attempt to lower the temperature.

-Who took it then?! You're the only one in here, appart from me!

-I don't know, maybe you should ask the guy that was here with you last night? He countered, a bit angered by her drug induced amnesia.

-Mike? He... He was there?

-No, Mike is the one trying to make you quit. Rodger you called him, I think.

-Oh yes, I remember now... You know, he has pretty interesting ideas: He said that if I ran out of dope or money, he knew people that would trade quite a lot for a young boy like you.

He was about to say something but the sheer terror his mother's insinuation caused all words to choke in his throat. All he could do was to stare at her with eyes wider than one dollar coins.

-Oh, you heard well, so you better bring me back all what you stole from me. You have fifteen minutes, little prick. Otherwise, I'll call him, and he'll call his friend and by the end of the day, I'll be rid of you.

Fifteen minutes is a hell of a short time to give back something you didn't take. So instead of searching, he started packing, which wasn't very difficult: Apart from what he was wearing at the moment, all he had were two shirts and a pair of jeans, as for his beloved Swiss knife, it was already in his pocket.

-Don't you dare get out, I'm still your mother! She yelled when she saw him about to leave with his bag on his shoulders.

-It was about damn time you realized it! He felt like his blond head made a full turn as she slapped him across the face in response.

-Fuck you, I'm not your son.

It was the last thing he ever told his mother as he slammed the door behind him.

He was used to a lot of walking around because of his job, but a full night of constant movement completely drained him. Too scared to sleep, he had to keep going, but at eight o'clock,he climbed up the emergency stairs of a disaffected factory and decided the rusty metal would be the perfect spot to take a break.

-Just... a few... minutes. He whispered to himself just before his body gave up and let him sink into a deep slumber.

___________________________________________

-Hey, boy! Boy, are you alright? A calm voice woke him up along with a hand gently shaking his shoulders.

His first reflex was to jump on his feet, his Swiss knife pointed at the man's face.

-Woah, relax kid! I want you no harm, it's just that, how can I say, you're sleeping in my doorway and I'd really like to go home. The stranger protested, putting his hands up to appear as little threatening as possible.

To be honest, with his mid length, wavy, dark hair, his big, soft, brown eyes, and his not yet adult face, he looked quite friendly.

-You live in there?

-Yes, there's me, my friends and a bunch of other people. You, on the other hand, don't seem to have a place to stay, do you want to come in?

-Wait a second, I don't even know your name! Billy exclaimed.

-I'm Graham Mellor, and would you mind not to point that thing at me, it would be very appreciated, you know. He answered and offered his hand to shake.

The boy put the knife back in his pocket and reluctantly accepted the hand.

-I'm William.

-William what?

-I don't know my father's name, and I don't want my mother's one.

-Billy Nameless, that's good! It could be a cowboy name from those old movies! Graham joked.

-Only my friends can call me Billy.

-So, now that you know my name, do you want to come in?

-Okay, but if there's anything shady in there, I get out or you're gonna end up with a second hole down your ass. He answered, patting the pocket containing his knife.

-It's a deal, Mister Nameless. Graham nodded and led the way.

Where Billy was waiting for two or three scruffy guys with absolutely nothing to do, he found five young adults taking care of about twenty kids from eight to sixteen years old.

-Alright everybody! Here is William and he might be our guest for a while, so I want y'all to be at your best with him.

-What the fuck?!

-It's class in the morning and we do chores in the afternoon. Graham explained.

-Oh, okay then...

-You said a rude word, you must apologize!

A little girl scolded him.

-Eh.... Sorry guys?All kids nodded in one synchronized move of approval and teenagers snickered under their breath.

-Who are they... How do you... You know what I mean!

-Mostly like you, but for a few of them, their parents heard of us and brought them here because they couldn't take care of them. They visit sometimes.

-Show me around, the whole place.-Well, here used to be the offices, the younger kids sleep here and because there are a lot of separate rooms, it is also where we do classes. I think they're on a break right now, that's why they're all together.

He then led him down one flight of stairs, showing him the teenagers' dorm room then, one floor lower, the adults' one. Both were only consisting of thin foam mattresses covered by even thinner sheets and covers laying in one big room.

-That's it for us, "The Family Unit". Underneath, there are a few homeless guys that live here. They're nice but they don't want to deal with us lot. I'd gladly join them sometimes. He chuckled

-And on the ground floor?

-Junkies. Most of them are cool too, but we don't want any substances around the kids.-You won't see me disagreeing with that.

-So, do you want to try it out for a while?

An organised, more or less safe way of living. It sounded better than his mother's place.

-... Why not.

Months passed and he so to say became part of the family, taking part to chores and courses. To his surprise, he had more to eat there than he used to have with his mother and miraculously it wasn't as cold in winter, thanks to Graham gathering enough money to afford a bit of gas for the heating.

About a year later, some other changes in his life came with a loud pounding on the rusted door of the ground floor.

-Police! Open the door! A man with an English accent shouted.

The panic those words caused to the still sober occupants of that floor...

But of course they didn't open (or even approach the door) and the "police" had to kick it open only to see a couple of them running up the stairs.

-Maybe it's not that bad of a thing if they demolish this damn place... He mumbled to himself after discovering what he thought to be the only residents of the building.

He began to search the floor he just entered for something or someone that would eventually be enough to discourage promoters from tearing down the building.

He just didn't want another apartment complex that people wouldn't be able to afford.

-If you are from the police, I assume you have a badge, and some kind of a warrant. Graham asked as he got to the staircase's landing.

-No, I don't. What I have is a reason for you to help me.

-Could you elaborate?

-The new owners of your... Home want to replace it with apartments. I'm a private investigator and they hired to see what has become of their property.

-Argh, it must be about this unpaid rent of us. He answered with irony.

And this is the moment Billy and his less than perfect sense of timing decided to arrive.

-Hey why in Hell did you guys let the front door open?! He shouted as he entered the building.

-What are you doing with children in here?! Bernie yelled at Graham, taking out his pistol and pointing it at him.

-No, I swear it's not what you think! Such panicked explanation were far from satisfying for the detective, but as he was about to cock his gun, a dull sound resonated and he collapsed to the ground.

-Eeeh, I went dumpster shopping and found quite a few cans of soup. Billy explained and picked the one he just threw at the man's head.

-I hope you found some ice for his head too, now help me, we'll get him upstairs.

Bernard woke up on the third floor, surrounded by six pair of curious eyes and his head resting on the last clump of snow in town wrapped in a towel.

Unbeknownst to him, on the upper floor, twenty ears were pressed against the ground, eager to know what was going on.

-Mister Gray, can you hear me? Graham asked after seeing their "guest's" eyes fluttering open.

-How do you even know my name?

-Your wallet. Billy answered and threw it by the laying man. Don't worry, I didn't take anything from it.

-Hmm, and what do you want from me?

-Just to be left alone.

-I want to see the rest of the building first, I don't mind lying to the promoters who hired me, but I need some inspiration first. Oh, and if you give me my gun back, I'd appreciate it.

Billy put the firearm by the detective's hand carefully, but the adults couldn't help but shoot an anxious look at the ceiling, thinking about the kids upstairs and of a way to hide it.

-What's up there? He asked with suspicion.

-N-Nothing. One of Graham's friends stuttered.

-Oh, so you won't mind if I do this... He retorted, only to grab his revolver, stand up and fired three shots in a corner of the ceiling.

As the high pitched screams of the children rang above them, Graham and Billy tackled Bernard to the ground as the adults ran upstairs.

-Nothing uh? The detective chuckled.

He was good enough to tell when he was lied to, and once everything was explained properly, all suspicions were washed away.

-I'll help you. I'll scare away the promoters with something about contaminants in the ground and the soil being so soft that the whole thing would collapse, I don't know...

Relief was about to wash over the squatters' mind when the detective spoke once again.

-But I have a condition. He then pointed to Billy. You. Your name is William Forester and your mother came at my office telling me that you had ran away and required my services. If you come back with me, it's a deal.

-No, don't do this, I know her, she won't pay you! Billy pleaded.

-Well, it's still worth trying, if she doesn't, I'll charge a little extra to the promoters. He explained and patted his pockets, looking for something before adding: They won't even notice. And did you also take my cigarettes?

Graham glared at Billy, whom rolled his eyes and threw the little cardboard box to their guest.

-What about my lighter?

This time, Graham was the one to retrieve the missing object.

-So, what do you think? Bernard asked with a cloud of smoke.

-... I'll go. Billy resigned himself. But to one condition, we will go to my mother's place, instead of her coming to your office.

-Wise decision, young man.

___________________________________________

-I begin to understand why you ran away... Bernie grumbled after kicking a rat the size of a small dog out of his way while climbing up the stairs of the apartment building.

-Wait until you get into her place...Three flights of stairs later, they were in front of the dreaded door.

-Miss Forester? Bernard called as he knocked on the door.

-What time is it? Billy asked.

-Half past one. He answered after checking his watch.

-She's sleeping.The teen deadpanned before opening the unlocked door, revealing his mother snoring on the couch, surrounded by dirty dishes on the floor and various powders on the coffee table.

-Do you really want to send me back here? Or did she forget to tell you she threatened to sell me to child traffickers before I left?

-You should become a lawyer, 'cause you just won this case.

-So let's go back to the factory! He exclaimed after quietly closing the door.

-No, I called my other client to convince him that he shouldn't build anything there, but he already had reports indicating otherwise, so now he thinks I'm a liar and he won't pay me...

-And you aren't gonna get your money for finding me neither? The teen asked as they turned around to get down the stairs.

-No, to be honest, I don't get paid that often... I basically live off the two days advances I ask before each job. But it's enough as long as I keep finding new jobs.

-I could help you. I met all sorts of people since I got out of here.

-It's an idea. The detective chuckled. But first, I'll help your friends get another place.

-... And I guess he thought it was one good idea, because he's stuck with me ever since and didn't even complain.

-You kid deserved to go to school, and have an honest job! Bernie exclaimed before sitting back with them.

-Maybe I would have deserved it, but instead of that, I work with you! Billy joked.

-And you dropped school when you were sixteen! His so-called uncle retorted.

-Okay, you win...

-We should watch the news, maybe they'll talk about you lot. Bernie changed subjects after checking the clock.

They settled down in front of the television, Billy and Janie sitting by each other on the couch and Bernie took place in his armchair in the warming company of a glass of cognac.

"Breaking news, Ladies and Gentlemen, a corpse has been found on the railway crossing Broad Channel Island in Jamaica Bay..." The presentator announced as soon as she appeared on the screen.

-You don't say... Billy chuckled in faked disbelief.

-------------------------------------------------------

Next chapter: Billy's got a gun.

[stargazer-balladeer]

Random Imagines [Genshin Impact - girls]

[ boy edition ]

- qiqi’s, klee’s & diona’s are all platonic

nervously shifting her legs on the ground, amber shyly presents you a plushie version of yourself that looks similar to the design of baron bunny. she bit her lower lip in pure nervousness as she imagines worst-case scenarios if you didn’t like it. gulping mentally, she nervously smiles as she takes a peek of your expression before looking down again. “happy anniversary.” she quietly said, hoping to herself that you’ll like the gift and that her mind finally calms down.

ayaka smiles as she takes a sip of her tea right outside her house with her beloved by her side, the sakura tree’s petals fluttering around them wonderfully, making the atmosphere more romantic. it's been a while since she last spent her time with you, so she makes sure that it’s spent with zero interruptions. turning to you as she started the conversation with a sweet, serene smile on her face. listening to you starting to ramble on about a topic that interests you, with a look of admiration present in her face.

feeling thankful that you saved her from the crowd of fans, barbara guided you to a secluded area where she often visited to have peace and quiet. she lets you rest your head on her lap as she softly hums a tune, which slowly switches to an actual song. a concert exclusively for her biggest fan with no worries of being judged. smiling if you join in on her singing, even if your voice isn’t as good as hers, she considers your voice divine like the anemo archon.

laughing lightly as she noticed her significant other getting tipsy after drinking a bottle, beidou stood up and announced that she and her lover would be going back to the quarters early. as the celebration continued behind her, she carefully picked you up bridal style and brought you to her quarters. her eyes widened when you started to ramble how much you love her before letting out a small smile and ruffling your hair, minding her own flushed cheeks. 

diona hisses at the stranger who was obviously taking advantage of your kindness while screaming how disgraceful they are for trying to use you. wanting to teach them a lesson, she takes a step forward but you stopped her with a reassuring smile. huffing but obliging to your wishes, she only glared at the stranger, mentally memorizing their faces so that when they visit the bar, she would ask the traveler to mix up a horrible drink. after all, no one messes with you and gets away from it. 

her eyes widened as she saw how you got hit from the active ruin guard, with eyes full of vengeance, eula gracefully yet deadly strike it on the core, effectively making it inactive once more. quickly rushing to your side as she eyed the obvious injury that the ruin guard caused, she cursed to herself for letting it happen. she quickly tended your wounds as she said her usual line of vengeance will be mine while coaxing you to not fall asleep. 

fischl excitedly retells the stories she loved to you while being held by you in the bed after a tough day full of commissions. her prinzessin persona dropped completely as she started from the very beginning while playing with your hands. a soft smile present on her face, happy to share something she loved to you, her significant other. 

embarrassed at your request, ganyu shyly looks away while looking down, fully presenting you her horns. a pink dust appeared on her cheeks when she felt your hand softly yet carefully trace the design of her horns. the warmth of your hands against her horns made her at peace as the initial embarrassment went away, replacing it with comfort and tranquility.

smiling mischievously as her eyes landed on your unsuspecting figure, hu tao carefully and quietly navigate herself to you. she tries to conceal her excited giggles behind her hand as she crept up behind you. she stayed there for a while before quickly wrapping her hands around your waist and shouting “boo!” in your ear while giggling madly.

waking up at the sound of the birds chirping, jean slowly opens her eyes as she yawns. she blinked a couple of times to get the sleepiness out, once her vision was clear, her eyes quickly landed on your still-sleeping figure. she smiles as she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, softly calling your name in hopes to wake you up. hearing you groan in protest, she pressed a quick kiss on your lips, promising to give you more if you wake up right now.

keqing huffing as she loudly makes her side of the argument, her face almost turning red due to the anger she’s feeling. she knew she was right, so why were you insisting you were the one right and she was in the wrong? not wanting to back out from the argument, she accidentally says something she regrets. after the adrenaline of the argument evaporates from her veins, she quickly realizes what she said as she quickly pulls you into a hug while quietly apologizing.

whilst keeping her company while in solitary confinement, klee happily hums a tune she heard from barbara as she draws on a piece of paper you gave her along with some crayons. patting her head while she does her task, she looks up to you expectantly with her huge doe eyes, showing you what she drew. guessing from the color schemes of the two figures, you figured it was you and klee. happily praising her with her drawing, she excitedly grins at you. 

the fatui agent screamed in terror as a cryo attack hit him, hitting him square on the chest. shouting profanities, he looks at who attacked him to give them a piece of his mind only to fear his own life. standing right behind you, in all her glory, was la signora, otherwise known as your lover. she clicks her tongue, staring at the agent with judgement, before turning her attention to you. cooing sweetly at you as she checks for any possible injuries before telling you to stay in her quarters as she deals with a pest. 

lisa blinkes in surprise at the scenery before her, the library now deserted from people is decorated with a festive decoration. the table she used to have her tea time with is filled with food, from cakes to cookies, it even has her favorite tea among it. the scent of her favorite filled her nostrils as her eyes landed back on your figure, who was fidgeting from nervousness. laughing softly when asked if she likes it, she coos at you and brings you into a hug. you really are adorable, too much for her heart. 

her eyes widened when the door leading to her room opened, lumine looked up to see you in the doorway, the light from the outside pouring in the dark room. she looks away while blinking away the tears gathered in her eyes, why did you have to see her like this? hearing the soft thud of a closing door, she felt the bed shifted and warm arms wrapping around her. your hot breath in her eyes as you whisper comforting words in her ears. deciding to finally drop her guard down, she clings to you and starts bawling. why did her brother leave her once again?

surprised at your question of your future, mona coughs in her fist as she decides to fulfill your curiosity, also with a promise of giving her mora even though she declined it at first. she let the chart of the astrology signs appear before her and started doing her fortune-telling stuff. seeing her nod as she stares at the constellation of what appears to be yours, you noticed that her face bursted into red. worried for her, you asked her what’s wrong and she could barely put out a coherent word from her mouth. she huffed as she looks away, hiding you from her view via her hat, her mind racing at the image of you settling down with her. 

ningguang confronts you one day about your distant behavior with her, her eyes scanning your body, picking up your nervous tics along the way. she tilts her head as she looks at you with expecting eyes, even though her face remains stoic, her eyes are practically pleading for you to tell her what happened, did she do something wrong? sighing at your explanation, she stood up from her chair and made her way to you. pulling you into a chaste kiss, she smiled at you, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

gently waking you up from your nap, the face of a worried noelle appeared after you opened your eyes. smiling gently at you while stating that she finished preparing the soup and medicine and it’s time to eat. she frowned when you told her you don’t want to eat, to which she responded “you won’t get better if you won’t.” deciding the best option is to feed you, she scoop up a spoonful of soup and encourage you softly to open your mouth. her eyes lit up when you complied with her wish. after feeding you and making you drink the medicine, she changed your wet towel on your head and gave it a kiss, hoping to barbatos that you’ll get better soon. 

qiqi looks up at you expectantly while raising her arms up, asking for you to carry her. because you can’t physically or mentally decline a sweet child like her, you lifted her up like she wanted and adjusted your hold on her so that she wouldn't fall off. wrapping her arms around you and smiling happily, you continued to traverse liyue harbor while carrying her.

watching you in amusement as you struggled to try to get a kiss from her, rosaria chuckled when even if you were standing on your toes, you still couldn’t reach her. seeing you pout at her, she gave your cheek a pinch while cooing at you. after having a deal with you, a kiss in exchange for a wine in the tavern, she gave you your desired kiss after rolling her eyes at your expecting face.  

while looking through her notes, sucrose heard you hum while doing your daily house chores. looking up to peek at where you stood, washing the dishes while swaying slightly and humming a tune. she smiles as her focus soon shifts to listening to you humming instead of focusing on her notes. noticing that the shy girl was looking at you, the said-girl let out a tiny shriek and quickly looked down to her notes. chuckling at her adorable action, you continued to wash the dishes as she went back to her notes. 

xiangling blushed profusely at the sight of you holding out a bouquet of flowers with a bag of jueyun chili on your other hand. she covered her face with her hands, incoherent words leaving her mouth as she tried to process what she’s seeing. you must’ve flustered her too much. chuckling at her reaction, you set down the bag and the bouquet at a table and wrapped your arms around her, patting her head to calm her down. 

excitedly yet nervously strumming her guitar in front of you, xinyan took a deep breath before starting to strum her guitar for real and began singing her heart out. she hopes you’ll like the song she composed, exclusively for you. the one and only fan she has that endlessly supported her through her rockstar career. she smiles at you brightly as she continues to sing, bobbing her head up and down. this is who she is, and she’s glad she found someone like you. 

feeling someone’s disappointing gaze on you, you look up to meet yanfei’s gaze with a frown plastered on her face. drunkenly greeting her, she shakes her head as she exclaimed she’ll be bringing you home now. it was a bit difficult as you kept wanting to wander off but she somehow managed to bring you home in one piece. plopping you down on your couch, she sighs as she mumbles that she became your babysitter and quickly fetches you some water. after some difficult time once again to make you drink water and the ending being successful, she stares at your sleeping face before letting out a sigh once again. why do you keep choosing someone else when she was right here by your side the entire time? 

[letarasstuff]

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Three: Beneath the Oak Tree

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Strained parent relationship, death of a parent, grief, anxiety, it’s gonna get a little fluffy in this one!

W/C: 3.9k

A/N: So I'm honestly really proud of myself for this chapter, there's a little something that I wrote while I was in Ezra's mind & I still can't get over it. I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you all so much for the love & support!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist Form

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

~APRIL NINETEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN – AFTERNOON~

At the day’s end, you begin your trek back to the house, the heels and balls of your feet aching in a bruising way with each step. The sun creeps lower and lower behind you as you walk and you can feel the warmth of its rays hugging your back. There was a time you would enjoy watching the sunset, when you would stay in town the few extra moments to revel in its beauty and its promise to you that, although darkness will soon creep in, the sun will rise again and bring with it a fresh beginning.

Now, though, your newly appointed duties force you to neglect your favorite time of day. Right after closing the shop, you headed over to the butchers shop for the cheapest pound of beef, cut up into chunks as requested by Pa, and began walking. Not looking back at the town or the sunset, but not able to look forward either. Muscle memory takes over your legs, the map in your mind leading you straight home and all other directions you may have anticipated moving towards are erased completely now.

As you walk up to the farm, you see Mr. Prospect far into the fields, digging weeds from the Earth diligently with the hoe in his hands. You gander upon him for a moment, slowing down your pace just to glance a little longer than might be considered appropriate. He’s discarded his jacket and his white shirt looks dirtier now, the sleeves rolled up to his biceps to reveal his tan arms. They’re not overly muscular, but you know they must be strong with how hard he’s working the fields.

You misstep while your head is turned to Mr. Prospect, the toe of your boot catching a fairly large rock in the dirt and it causes you to trip. You stumble, but regain your balance quickly and feel the flush of embarrassment flow through you, your head now facing forward with the front door to the house in your sights. You take another peek at Mr. Prospect, his attention still focused on the dirt, obviously not having seen you fumble and you thank whoever above that he had not been looking your way.

Once inside, the aroma of vegetable broth is swirling through the air; Pa had already begun the stew, thankfully, relieving some of the responsibility from you. You walk into the kitchenette and set the wrapped beef down onto the only free counter, then you remove your bonnet and bag, hanging it on the wooden hook and turning to place the lockbox back inside the safe.

You turn back to the kitchenette, unwrapping the paper to reveal the raw meat within and you dump it into the boiling broth with the vegetables. A simple stew; you’ve no spices besides pepper and fresh rosemary from the garden and the meat was already salted by the butcher, but it was always a favorite that Ma would make. Yet, when you try to cook it, it never comes out with the same taste anymore. As if Ma had put her own love into it and it was another part of her you just would not have anymore.

After some time, the stew is finished, the broth thickened and the vegetables and meat cooked through to tenderness, and just then, Pa walks into the house. He walks as if the weight of the Earth rests on his shoulders and he breathes deeply, trying to regain the air in his lungs he had lost from the hard work of the day. You stand in the kitchenette, waiting for him to move from the frame so you are able to greet Mr. Prospect as well, but Pa shuts the door behind him.

“He did not wish to join,” Pa says simply.

“Did he explain why?” You ask.

“He said he did not want to impose. I did not press the matter; if he chooses solitude, I will not force his hand,” Pa replies as he sits down at the table.

You keep quiet, deciding not to further discuss the subject so as to not upset Pa and you ladle a helping of stew into a bowl for him, carrying it along with the basket of rolls to the table. You set it down in front of him and after he says his silent letter to Ma, he begins eating. You serve yourself some stew as well and sit down at the table. You and Pa eat in silence, as usual, but there’s a nagging thought in your head that will not subside. As much as you try to throw it to the wind, your curiosity gets the best of you and as you stand to grab your dishes, you find the courage to confront your father.

“Pa?”

“Hm?” He grunts, packing his pipe with tobacco.

“Why did you not inform me of Mr. Prospect yesterday?” You ask quietly, hoping he will not be upset with your questioning.

“I did not see the need to. Not until I had a chance to speak with him myself.”

“I could have helped, Pa. You could have sent him to me and I could have spoken with him,” you continue as you move to stand closer to him. He sighs deeply.

“No.”

His quick response comes out cold, a spat in the face more like, and you immediately take offense. Clearly, Pa still sees you as a child and, like a child, he expects you to bend to the laws he has established in this house. Your pulse races, the grown woman within you takes over your mind and you feel the urge to fight for your position. It breaks your heart; you were used to fighting for yourself in the town, but now you find yourself fighting against your own father.

“Why? Do you not trust my judgement? I’ve put my work in for the farm like you and Ma have before me,” you reply in a firm tone.

“Because I am the owner and I will hire whomever I see fit. Enough of this.”

He nearly barks at you, like the Bakers’ dog that would frighten you as a child whenever you passed its territory, and you feel that same terror rush through you now. You try to see reason, but no acceptable excuse comes to mind. Perhaps he did not feel as though you have earned his respects as the young lady you are. Whatever he thinks of it, you feel it may be best to settle the subject. For now.

“Yes, sir,” you say softly. You turn to the kitchenette, place your soiled dishes in the basin and walk back to the range, serving a helping of food into another bowl with a spoon and setting a roll on top. “I will go offer some stew to Mr. Prospect.”

“Leave him be, daughter. If he wished to eat, he would have joined us at our table,” Pa says with a furrow in his brow.

“Perhaps he is intimidated, Pa. Afraid to sit and converse with us after the town has already been so unfriendly. If he wishes to be lonesome, I will respect it. But I will not let him go hungry simply for his preference.”

Before giving Pa another chance to argue, you step outside and shut the door behind you. You take a moment to yourself once you are far enough away from the house. A crushing feeling sits on your chest, pressure building and building and you take deep breaths in an attempt to calm your rapidly beating heart and quiet the ringing in your ears. You allow yourself to feel the cool breeze from the night flow across your face and closed eyelids as you find your center again.

You had hoped Pa would see you as an adult by now, not a helpless child. The loss of your mother only matured your soul more than it already was previously. You wonder what Ma would think, if she would agree with Pa or with you. Only more sadness courses through you, though, as you remind yourself that you will never know the answer.

Finally regaining your strength, you walk towards the barn, bowl in hand and heart drumming nervously in your chest. Why? Why so anxious? What is it about this mysterious man that has you feeling like a schoolgirl again? He was absolutely an intriguing – and rather handsome – man, far different from the men around town, as well as friendly, so why had everyone else been so disconcerted by him? You truly must have a different set of eyes, then, because you only wish to know – to learn – more.

You reach the ajar barn doors and knock on the wood softly to announce your presence. There is some shuffling from within until Mr. Prospect pulls open the door, his gaze full of pleasant surprise to see you standing in front of him.

“Sunflower,” he grins. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I apologize for interrupting your rest, but I figured you might be hungry after today,” you reply and hold out your hand with the bowl. He glances down at it, quickly looking back up into your eyes.

“I couldn’t, miss, I would feel as though I am taking advantage of your kindness.”

“Nonsense,” you scoff and his eyebrows twitch amusingly at your rebuttal. “It is the very least we can do since we are not able to pay you much. ’Sides, I’ve already served you; I would be more offended if you were to decline now. Otherwise it will go to waste and that will not sit right with Pa. Or with me.”

“Very well, Sunflower. I would hate to disappoint, so I will accept. Thank you very much,” he smiles and grabs the bowl from your outstretched hand, his fingertips lightly brushing your palm and a slight tingle from his skin on yours trickles through your hand. “May I ask you to join me?”

“I’d best not linger; I’m afraid I’ve managed to upset Pa tonight and I’d rather not cause him any further distress before sleep,” you explain, pushing past the temptation to say yes.

“I am sorry to hear that; I hope my being here hasn’t caused any controversy between you and your father.”

“Not at all, it has nothing to do with you, Mr. Prospect. Rest easy,” you smile.

“Thank you, dear Sunflower. Both for the ease of mind and also for this meal; I cannot wait to taste the flavors that have charmed my nose with its temptatious smell.”

You giggle softly at his statement; he speaks so differently, his own elocution, it seems. You bow your head slightly at him and take a turn to leave, but a lingering curiosity prompts you to speak.

“Mr. Prospect, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” he grins while he waits.

“Why do you call me ‘Sunflower’?”

“Do you take offense to my endearment, miss? I do apologize-”

“No,” you shake your head, offering a small smile for your expression to match your acceptance of the name he has bestowed upon you. “I must admit I quite like it. I was only curious.”

“It is because you glow as one; bright as the sun, yet gentle as its petals. Though, its beauty would diminish greatly were it next to you in comparison.”

Your neck, cheeks, and ears burn; an almost overwhelming heat you have not felt since little Morris Clark snuck a kiss to your cheek as children in the school play yard. Though, there was nothing childlike about the sensation rushing through you. His words make you smile; a genuine smile you forgot your face was capable of producing.

“I… I hope you enjoy the soup. I-I will be back for the bowl and spoon in the morning,” you stutter and attempt to hide the jubilant grin on your face by biting your lip. “Goodnight, Mr. Prospect.”

“Sunflower?” He calls out as you’re mid-turn, causing you to stop at his beckon. “Please, call me Ezra.”

Your smile breaks wider across your face and Ezra grins back, nodding slightly as he watches you consider his proposal. You take a breath to calm the thumping of your heart.

“Goodnight… Ezra.”

“Goodnight.”

~APRIL TWENTY-FIRST OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Sundays were your favorite days. No, not because of church, but because it was the only day of the week where you were able to close the shop early enough and have a spare moment to yourself. While everyone was busy praising God, praying to Him to prove they were holier than the rest of the town and repenting for the sins they committed during the week (just for them to start fresh on a new batch the next morning), it was the day you found your own escape.

You intently watch the clock ticking on the wall until the work day comes to an end and you quickly rush to the door to flip the sign, guaranteeing no other customers would make it through. You head back to the counter and carefully examine the ledger and count the coin from the day to assure each sale has been accounted for. After checking it once, you go through it again to reaffirm it’s correct and close the book.

You gather the coins in your hand and place them in the velvet bag, tying the string at the opening and setting both the bag and the book into the metal lockbox. You turn the small key, place the box in your bag, and nestle the key within your breast pocket.

You hurriedly make the trek back to the farm and you see Pa rounding up the chickens for their feeding. In your haste, you notice belatedly that you had not seen Ezra in the fields, but convince yourself he may be busy elsewhere. After a brief announcement of your arrival, you walk through the wooden front door, the floorboards creaking underneath you as you walk straight to the black safe next to the fireplace. You place the metal box from your bag inside the safe, closing it once again and heading back outside.

“Pa, I’ll be back in time for supper,” you call out as you stand under the apple tree, searching for the shiniest and reddest apple from its leaves to place in your bag.

“Be careful, daughter,” he replies as he throws more feed into the dirt. Considering how strained your relationship with Pa became, thankfully, he still respected your weekly ritual without any argument.

You wave and walk away from the farm, in the opposite direction of the town and towards the hills. It’s a mere five minute hike until you make it to the small landing at the base on the other side of the hill, letting the sounds of the flowing river fill your ears with delight. It is your own personal haven; no other person has found this place and you privately claimed it as your own, even marking your initials into the large oak tree that dwelled there.

As you make your way through the pine colored grass and up to your usual sitting area, you see the outline of a man sitting under your tree. Your brows furrow in confusion and you feel momentarily disappointed upon the realization that your secret place has been found by another, but you don’t dare be outwardly perturbed; how were they to know this was your own private sanctuary to escape the gloom of what has become of your life?

You continue in a steady march, not prepared to let your resting spot become someone else’s easily. Your mother taught you manners; you knew how to share. That did not mean it had to please you, but as long as they kept to themselves, you rationalize, what’s the harm? Maybe it was another lost soul finding comfort in the calming atmosphere of this place. An unavoidable grin stretches across your face, however, when you step closer and recognize the choppy cut of hair atop the man’s head. You catch a glimpse of his profile and his discernible nose and conclude it is the traveling man that has so intensely piqued your interest.

“Good afternoon, Ezra,” you address once you’re in range of his hearing. It catches him off guard and his shoulders jolt slightly, clearly unexpectant of anyone else finding this place.

“Sunflower,” he beams when his eyes meet yours as you stand under the shade of the tree. He moves to stand to properly greet you.

“Please,” you hold a hand up to stop him. “May I join you?”

“It would be a true delight,” he responds and resettles himself on the ground.

You smile sincerely and are pleasantly surprised to find it comes naturally and with ease in his presence. You lift your dress slightly from the ground and carry your weight to your knees to rest on your bottom, bending your legs to lay beside you. You sigh contentedly as you smooth out your skirts out around you.

“What brings you here? What about the fields?” You ask.

“Your father relieved me of my duties for the remainder of the afternoon. He declared: ‘Every soul should rest on the Lord’s day’.”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “That sounds like Pa.”

You do not press the subject of his religion, knowing first-hand how irksome it is when others comment on your lack of worship and you do not wish to cause Ezra any further discomfort by intruding on his personal preferences. A moment of silence passes between you two; the river flows and splits across different shaped rocks and boulders embedded into the dirt below the surface, creating a relaxing tune, gladly welcomed by your ears.

“It’s lovely here, isn’t it?” You ask, turning your gaze to his. To see his peaceful face, full of heartfelt content of the surroundings, you think it may not be so bad to finally have a friend to share it with.

“Indeed; lovelier so with your company,” he smiles.

You feel a strange occurrence within you, a sudden spike in your pulse that makes your fingers and toes tingle, much like when they ache at the end of a long day. Yet, in this moment, you welcome it.

“I usually come here alone,” you say quietly as you fiddle with the strap of your bag.

“My apologies; if you’d prefer, I will find a different location of rest,” he frowns slightly, afraid he has imposed on time you prefer to spend alone.

“No,” you say quickly. “Don’t fret. Besides, this is the only place the children do not come to cause chaos.”

“I see,” he chuckles breathily, a sense of relief rushing through him that he has not upset you. “Perhaps we can share, then?” He questions tenderly in a hopeful wish released to the air.

“Yes,” you nod. “I think I would enjoy that.”

He smiles, his eyes gleaming along and you cannot fight the slight, arrhythmic thumping in your chest at the sight of his glee. Another moment passes without a word spoken as your heart paces normally once again and you look over at Ezra, his fingers busy fiddling with a small book.

“Whatcha got there?” You ask. He looks at you before meeting your gaze to his lap.

“Oh...” He looks at the brown, leather bound booklet in his hands. “A journal for my thoughts and compositions alike.”

“It’s nice to write down your reflections. May I hear some? Unless they are too close to your heart, then I do not wish to pry.”

“I’ve not read these aloud to anyone since my youth, dear Sunflower, but it would bring me great joy if you were to listen,” he says softly and you turn your body to face him, providing your utmost attention.

He smiles, chest rising profoundly with each nervous breath he takes as he opens his book, turning the ivory pages with the pad of his index finger until he lands on a scripture to read, clearing his throat before he begins.

“The vast expanse of the Green went on in each direction farther than the eye could see. The emerald of the leaves above coalesce into the umber of the earth below, both hues combining in the moss bound to the wide and tall bodies of majestic trees.

“The sunlight rained through the leaves, its rays bathing the ground I walked on and bringing the small buds of flowers to life with each step I took. The morning dew kissed the delicate fronds, single droplets meeting their lovers akin and they became as one, rolling away from the home they shared briefly and freefalling in blissful adrenaline until they met their demise in the dirt.

“I immersed myself in the environment, years upon years of the knowledge of rebirth all around, and I breathed in the crisp coolness of the air and life surrounding me. I long to become the moss on the tree, the buds in the dirt, the dew on the frond. To fade away into the Green and be born again.”

He takes a deep breath as he closes the book, grazing his fingers along the cover as if he is praising it, thanking it silently for the blank canvas it provides for him to express himself. His words move you, the meaning behind his composition striking a chord within your heart and, suddenly, you feel a small bead of water rolling down your cheek. As you bring your finger to your eye to wipe away the first tear you have shed in many moons, Ezra looks over at you and catches you in the act.

“Are you alright, Sunflower?” He asks with concern laced in his voice. He would reach out to comfort you through physical touch were he not afraid to overstep and offend you.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you brush off before flashing a soft smile at him. Though, he is not convinced. “It’s beautiful; you have a raw talent for composing. It sounds like a lush place, nothing like around here. What is ‘the Green’?”

“A never-ending stretch of greenery and tall trees. At times, I can faintly smell the aroma of the dirt, muddied by the rain.”

“Where is it?” You ask, a slight hope forming in your heart that you may be able to visit someday.

“Ah, it resides only in my dreams, I’m afraid. A place my subconscious has manifested for me to visit during my slumber.”

“It sounds heavenly,” you add in a whisper.

Ezra is stunned; in his youth, he has composed small poems and sonnets such as the one he just recited to you and each time he dared to share them with anyone, he always got the same response. Classmates teased him and called him a freak or queer and he never felt any desire to share his work again. Yet, with you, your gleaming eyes directed to him with such intrigue, he felt compelled to share once again. And the response this time warms his heart.

“It can be. Then again, it feels quite lonesome as well. Such a colossal stretch of land, yet I am the only one there.”

“It must be my own desire to be free of prying eyes and ears that makes it sound appealing. I did not consider how it has been for you during your travels. Forgive me, Ezra,” you say, your eyes shining with guilt and he looks deeply into them, a touch of gold streaking in his irises as the sun flashes across his face.

“You have nothing to apologize for, dear Sunflower. I understand your desires. If I had also grown in a town such as this, I would gladly welcome a visit to the Green.”

You nod your understanding, but a twinge of guilt hits you as you consider how poorly Ezra must have been treated when he first arrived. You do not wish to ask and ruin the peacefulness of this moment, though you vow to keep it in mind to ask at a later time. For now, you will enjoy your company with Ezra under the large oak tree, heart happily beating in your chest with someone to finally share time with.

Chapter Two || Chapter Four

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[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 29: Butterly

Chapter 28

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The rest of August flew by. The power was restored a little over a week after the storm had initially hit, and getting Faith back into her normal routine (sleeping in her own bed, brushing teeth in the bathroom) was a bit of a struggle. Dismantling the fort had been a feat as well; Faith was not at all happy about it. Claire would absolutely not sleep on the floor, but she couldn’t bring herself to force Faith to sleep alone with no nightlight or option to turn the lights on, so she’d been allowed to sleep with Mummy until the power was restored.

September was upon them, and with it, the terror of a day that Claire had been anticipating with dread and excitement for months.

On September ninth, Faith was going to school.

In the middle of August, Claire had rearranged her work schedule to be able to take her to the orientation, tethered to Angus. They’d been picked up by the bus together so that Faith could practice with a school bus. The orientation leader had been extremely kind and helpful, showing them the whole school before they got to the special education room. It was a different district than the one they lived in, but Mrs. Lickett (and Claire’s research) had told her that this was the best program for Faith’s specific needs. The classroom was smaller than the others, but her class was only eight children altogether. Claire had heard horror stories of special needs children in a classroom that was essentially a glorified closet, no windows, no color in the room. So when the room they entered was nothing short of the most adorable, sunshine-y kindergarten classroom she’d ever seen, Claire could have cried with relief.

Each child’s individual aid was waiting in the classroom, including Carole, Faith’s aid. She’d been told about Angus and what he was specifically meant to help with in terms of Faith’s behavior and education. He’d responded well to a few experimental commands from Carole, and Faith seemed to like her well enough. Miss O’Reilly was the teacher’s name, and she gave a small sample lesson to demonstrate for the parents, and for the children to practice. Claire hung in the back of the room with the other parents, who all looked equally as terrified as she was.

Watching Faith at her little desk, her aid pointing to her pencil and paper, whispering in her ear to encourage her participation, was overwhelming. She was squirming a bit, turning around occasionally to reach for Claire. Angus was dutiful, however, nudging her, applying pressure in her lap with his head to bring her back, to calm her down.

She can do it. They can do it. Together.

Claire took the day off for Faith’s first day; she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on a damn thing at work, and she didn’t feel like being responsible for people’s lives while her mind was otherwise occupied. Jamie insisted on taking the day off as well, on being there to see her off on the bus, and then staying with Claire like her own emotional support animal. She’d insisted he didn’t need to, though it was a rather weak insistence, because she knew deep down she needed him.

He had arrived promptly at seven o’clock, being that Faith’s bus was to arrive at eight-fifteen. He seemed surprised to find her fully dressed already, full-well knowing by now that his girlfriend was not a morning person. He’d apparently expected her to be in her pajamas.

“I hardly slept last night,” she admitted, standing aside to let him in. “I finally gave up around five, got dressed around six.”

He smiled with sympathy and gently pulled her in for a brief kiss. “I didna sleep much at all either.” He pulled her in for a comforting embrace, and his heartbeat in her ear did wonders for her nerves, if only temporarily. She felt his breath on the top of her head, and he pressed another kiss there.

“She nervous at all?” he asked.

“I don’t know, it’s hard to tell. I’m not sure she realizes that I won’t be going with her this time.” The thought sent her stomach turning again, filled with dread over Faith’s heart-crushing realization that Mummy was sending her away.

“Aye, suppose we’ll find out.” He pulled away to offer her another smile, and she craned her neck to kiss him again. “Here.” He produced a paper bag from behind his back, and Claire started, not even having realized he’d been holding something the whole time. “Picked ye up a wee treat fer breakfast. Ye deserve something better today than those crumbly chunks of oat ye call a meal.”

Her eyes smoldering with affection, she took the bag and peeked inside. “Granola bars are quite good for you. Fiber and protein are important.”

“Perhaps. But so are taste buds.”

She rolled her eyes as she shuffled away, depositing the bag on the kitchen counter. “I’ll eat it later. Could you get her cereal ready while I wake her up?”

“Aye, certainly.”

They brushed past each other in the doorway of the kitchen, and Claire entered Faith’s bedroom, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Angus, come,” she said lightly, and the previously sleeping dog sprang up from his spot beside Faith, trotting next to Claire. She sat down on the edge of Faith’s bed and began stroking her head. “Faith, darling. Time to wake up.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and Claire was greeted with a sweet, absent smile.

“There she is! Good morning, lovie.” Faith sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Do you know what today is? It’s the first day of school! Yay!” She signed applause, and Faith copied lazily, her hands apparently not totally awake yet. “It’s time to get up and get dressed. Do you want to look pretty for school, Faithie?”

Faith nodded excitedly, giving a little hum.

“That’s right. Up we get now, come on.” Claire stood up and went to the dresser, picking up the  blue dress she already had lain out. “Look at your pretty dress, baby. You’re going to look so pretty. Yes?”

She gave an excited little hop, and she raised her arms up, indicating she was ready for Claire to pull her pajama shirt off. Claire chuckled and obliged her, talking to her gently as she got her dressed. Claire insisted she give her a twirl when the dress was on, and Faith was more than happy to do so. Dressed and twirled, Claire loosely pulled half of her wild curls up, then clipped the tartan hair bow at the base of the ponytail.

“There. Pretty dress, and Merida bow. You’re all ready.”

Faith hummed loudly, jiggling her hands, and she followed Claire into the living room, trailed closely by Angus.

“Look who’s here, Faith! Special for you on your first day of school!” They entered the kitchen, and Faith practically launched herself at Jamie, throwing her arms around his legs right where he stood at the counter.

“Ah, there she is! Good morning, my braw wee lass!” He cupped the top of her head, and looked up at Claire as his fingers brushed the hair bow. “Ye’re a proper wee Scot today, aye? Wearing the hair bow I gave ye?” He pointed at the bow, and Faith giggled.

“It’s her favorite. Of course she had to wear it for such a big day.”

Brimming with affection, Jamie crossed the room, swinging Faith as she clung to his leg, and pressed a sweet kiss on Claire’s lips. Claire giggled into the kiss, the silly image of him wearing her daughter on his leg impossible to ignore.

“Alright, little monkey. Let Jamie go, please. Time for breakfast. Angus first.”

Faith obeyed, marching over to Angus’s bag of food and dumping the scoopful into his bowl, and Jamie handed her the pre-measured cup of water for her to pour into his water bowl.

“Good girl,” Claire said warmly as Angus already began digging in. “Your turn.”

A bowl of Cheerios was already waiting on the table, and Jamie hurried to pour the milk in. “Didna want it to get soggy while it waited fer her.”

Claire’s heart felt fit to burst for the fifth time that morning. Before Faith had interrupted, Jamie had been cutting up an apple at the counter, and he finished up before putting the plate next to Faith’s cheerios.

Having finished his breakfast in a matter of seconds, as usual, Angus was free for Jamie to pet and coddle while Claire carefully arranged Faith’s lunch and snack in her Frozen lunchbox.

“See, Faith?” Claire said. “Lunch is all ready to go.”

Faith looked up from her cereal to give a thumbs up.

On the way home from orientation, as a reward for being a good girl, Claire had stopped at Target and let Faith choose any lunchbox and backpack she wanted, along with a few folders and fun pencils. They were all Disney, of course, mostly Frozen dominated.

“These are for school, lovie. All of your favorites are going to help you be a big girl in school, yes?” Claire had said while Faith filled the shopping cart. Faith had simply hummed contentedly, smiling dreamily.

Claire checked said backpack about eight times before Faith finished her breakfast, and she heard Jamie coaxing her to drink the milk leftover in her cereal bowl.

“To make yer wee bones grow big and strong, a leannan.”

She re-entered the kitchen to see him popping an apple slice in his mouth, making an absurd face, and Faith squealed, shaking her head.

“If ye dinna want me to steal every slice, ye’d better hurry.” He picked up another slice, and Faith tried to grab it, but he stealthily dodged her and popped it in his mouth. She squealed with laughter again, and then countered by popping a slice in her own mouth.

“Och, I wanted that one.” Jamie leaned back with contrived exasperation, crossing his arms. Faith giggled incessantly, and Claire had to bite her lip.

“Ridiculous human being,” she said, shaking her head.

“Can Mummy have any apples d’ye think?”

Faith squealed and adamantly shook her head, curls flying wildly.

“Oh, I can’t?” Claire challenged, crossing the room to join them at the table. She swiped a slice off the plate and popped it in her mouth, and Faith shrieked. “You heard him. You’d better hurry before we finish them.”

Faith ate another slice, looking back and forth between the adults like a little conspirator. They carried on like this, Jamie and Claire bringing slices to their open mouths, but then depositing them into Faith’s instead.

Eight o’clock came much too soon, and Claire cleaned up in the kitchen while Jamie led Faith into the living room. When Claire joined them, Jamie was giving her a quiet pep-talk while tying her shoes, her pink princess sneakers that didn’t at all match what she was wearing, but that she insisted on wearing no matter what.

Claire picked up her backpack when Jamie finished, not wanting to interrupt. “Alright, lovie. Ready?”

Faith nodded, extending her arms and allowing Claire to put the straps over her shoulders.

“There you go. All ready for school.”

“No’ quite,” Jamie said, reaching behind him into his back pocket. “I’ve got something special, Faith. Since ye’re such a big girl now, going to school and all.” He produced a tiny plush brown horse, attached to a little hook. “It’s a keychain, fer yer princess backpack.” Faith smiled, reaching out to hold it. “It’s a wee Pippi. See? She’s even got the white spot.” Struck by the familiarity, Faith stroked the white snout gently.

“Aye, very good, lass.” Jamie smiled widely. “Since ye canna take yer noble steed to school, or Horsie, I figure this’ll have to do.” He gently pried it from her hands to clip it to a loop on the backpack strap where she could reach it. “I’m very, very proud of you, Faith. When ye miss yer mam, I want ye to give wee Pippi a squeeze. Alright?”

They exchanged a thumbs up, and Claire almost burst into tears.

“I’m very proud of you too, baby.” Claire joined them, kneeling beside Jamie in front of her. “You’re such a big girl now.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “Are you a big girl? Big girl, Faith?” Claire signed big girl, and Faith bounced with excitement, signing big.

“Yes, good girl.”

They spent the last few minutes before the bus arrived trying to coax her to uncover her face long enough to get a picture of her first day of school outfit. Claire and Jamie took turns being in the pictures, and Jamie even insisted on getting a selfie so they could all (Angus included) get into one picture.

There was suddenly a honk from outside, and Claire’s stomach lurched. She looked up at Jamie with terror, and he gave her hand a squeeze.

“Angus, come,” Jamie called, and he made quick work of getting him vested, leashed, and tethered to Faith.

Claire stood up and opened the front door, waving to the bus driver. She turned back to see dog and child ready to go, Jamie holding her hand.

He looked just as terrified as she felt.

Together, the four of them made their way down the steps to meet the bus, and they stopped a few feet away from the curb.

“Okay, baby. There’s the bus.” Claire said, kneeling in front of her on the concrete. “Are you ready?”

Are you ready, Beauchamp?

“It’s only for a few hours,” Claire said, perhaps more for herself than for Faith. “And then you’ll be home again with Mummy. Yes?”

“Ye’re gonnae have lots of fun, Faith. Show Angus to all yer new friends, learn sae much,” Jamie chimed in.

She was not humming, but her hand was jiggling at her side, and Jamie grasped it.

“It’s alright, mo chridhe.” He pressed a kiss to her little knuckles. “It’s alright.”

Claire bit down fiercely on her lip. No tears until she’s gone.

“I love you, baby.” Claire held up the sign, forcing a tiny smile. “I love you.”

Faith returned the sign, touching her thumb, finger, and pinky to Claire’s as their foreheads rested together. They held the sign and their embrace for several lingering seconds, until the constant chugging of the bus’s engine reminded Claire that time was still passing.

“Alright. Hugs.” Claire pulled her in for a quick hug, fervently kissing the top of her head.

“A hug fer me too, lass?” Jamie said tentatively, and Faith did not hesitate. He pulled her in and kissed her head as Claire had, offering her a wide grin when they pulled apart. 

“Alright. It’s time now, baby.” Claire and Jamie stood up, each taking one of her hands and leading her to the bus. Carole was waiting at the top of the steps, smiling kindly.

“Hi, Faith,” she greeted warmly.

“Hold onto the railing, now,” Jamie said quickly, releasing the hand he was holding so Faith could grasp the metal railing.

Claire had to force herself to let go of Faith’s other hand, her heart stinging as Carole took it instead. She hesitated at the top of the stairs, stopping Carole from pulling her into a seat. Faith turned around, and Claire thought she was going to faint. Jamie seemed to read her mind, and he desperately grasped her hand, squeezing like his life depended on it.

Faith looked like she may cry, and her hand was jiggling in a way that both of them knew was not happy.

Angus pressed the top of his head into Faith’s side, and she laced her fingers in his fur, ceasing her jiggling.

“It’s okay, baby,” Claire choked out. “It’s okay.”

Angus stayed rooted in place, waiting patiently for the panic to pass, and Carole looked back and forth between girl and dog, and the anxious couple.

“Ready, Faith?” Carole gave her a thumbs up, and Faith turned away from Jamie and Claire to look up at her. “Ready?”

Faith returned the thumbs up, removing her hand from Angus.

“Okay. Let’s go sit.”

The doors to the bus closed, and Jamie and Claire staggered back, clinging desperately to one another. The bus lingered for several more seconds, and Faith soon appeared in one of the windows, or rather, her eyes and forehead did. Carole was talking to her, waving through the window, and Faith started waving, too. Claire and Jamie waved wildly with their free hands, and then the bus was pulling away, and Claire felt a piece of her heart leaving with it.

As soon as the bus was out of sight, Jamie crushed her to him, and she finally released the sob she’d been holding back.

“It’s alright, mo nighean donn,” he crooned into the top of her head, rocking her gently. “That was the worst part. Dinna fash, now. She did it.”

Claire wept quietly into his shirt, not caring if any one of her neighbors decided to peek out their window and see them on the curb. She felt his tears in her hair despite his calming words, and she held him tighter.

He was right; the worst part was over. She’d imagined so many different scenarios that ended either with Faith bolting off the bus, or with Claire dragging her down herself. She’d imagined Faith screaming her head off, red in the face with tears, inconsolable even by Angus.

But that hadn’t been the case.

“What if…what if she’s crying now? Just after we couldn’t see her anymore…?”

“She has Angus. He’s quite good at his job, ye ken.”

“I know, but she…” Claire couldn’t put words to her exact fear. “What if she’s not ready? What if I’ve just thrown her to the wolves…?”

“Ye’ve done all ye can to prepare her. Ye got her excited wi’ her supplies, ye trained her dog fer this moment fer months. If she canna handle it after all that, it’s no’ yer fault.” He kissed her head, and she felt its warmth reach her outermost extremities. “If it doesna work out this year, she’ll be all the more prepared next year. Mrs. Lickett said it’s alright if she’s no’ ready ’til next year.”

Claire nodded against his chest, sniffling loudly.

“Carole said she’d call if there was a problem on the bus. So there’s no need to worry, aye?” He pushed her away just enough to look into her eyes, and she nodded. He kissed her gently, brushing away her tears as he did. “Let’s go inside. Ye’ve got quite a tasty muffin waiting fer ye in the kitchen, if ye recall.”

She forced a tiny smile, hiccuping a bit. “I hope I don’t vomit it up.”

“If ye do, I’ll hold yer hair and rub yer back.” He put his arm around her shoulders and led her up the stairs. “Then I’ll get ye some saltines and ginger ale and take care of ye.”

She sighed and leaned into him. “I don’t deserve you.”

He scoffed. “Ye deserve to be taken care of, ye stubborn fool.”

She couldn’t help but smile as they entered the apartment, Jamie shutting the door behind them. “Thank you. For being here today. I think it helped ease her mind. And I…” She swallowed, catching her breath. “I really needed you.”

“Aye. I ken ye did.” He kissed her soundly again. “Come on, now. No more weeping. Breakfast time.”

——

Jamie did his best to distract Claire; it really was a valiant effort. They tried sex, but when he could see that her mind was elsewhere, he stopped, not wanting to force it when she wasn’t fully with him. Admittedly, even Jamie was struggling with that particular activity today. And he’d never had that problem before.

They settled on watching mindless television, but it didn’t do much for either of their nerves. He could feel Claire’s pulse going far too fast against his body, and Jamie’s fingers continued tapping anxiously on his thigh, his leg jiggling.

They were on perhaps their tenth episode of The Office, the sandwiches Jamie had made and tried to force Claire — and himself — to eat sitting untouched when Claire’s phone rang.

He swore Claire might have been having a stroke given the way she completely stiffened in her seat. She scrambled for the phone, resting idly on the coffee table.

“It’s the school,” she stammered, simultaneous with accepting the call. “Hello?”

Jamie’s stomach lurched, and he was grateful Claire put the phone on speaker.

“Hi, is this Miss Beauchamp?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, this is Miss O’Reilly, Faith’s teacher.”

“Yes, hello,” Claire said impatiently. “Is she alright? What’s happened?”

“Everything is okay, don’t worry. I’ve got Faith here with me. She keeps signing ‘mom,’ and she got more and more distressed every time, so we thought we should call you so she could hear your voice.”

Claire flashed a heartbreaking, guilt-ridden look up at Jamie. “Yes, give her the phone. Thank you.”

In a few seconds, the sound of sniffling came through the receiver, and Jamie instinctively grabbed Claire’s hand, squeezing for dear life.

“Faith? Hi, baby, it’s Mummy.”

Claire’s voice was wavering.

“It’s okay, lovie. I’m here. Jamie is here, too.”

“Hello, Faith,” Jamie chimed in. “It’s great to talk to ye.”

“I know you miss us, we miss you too,” Claire said carefully. “Don’t cry anymore, baby. It’s okay. You’re going to be home so, so soon. And then you get Oreos, remember? And a sticker.”

Mrs. Lickett and Claire had worked to put together a system where every day she went to and from school without a problem, she got a sticker on the sticker chart. She would earn little prizes for every filled row, and then, once the whole chart was full, she earned a big prize.

“I know you can do it,” Claire continued. “You’re such a big girl.”

“Aye, Faith, we’re verra proud of you.”

“That’s right,” Claire said. “I love you so much, baby. I’m doing the sign. Can you do it?” She paused for a bit. “I love you. Can you please give the phone to Miss O’Reilly?”

“Okay, thank you Faith.”

“How is she? Did that help?”

“I think it did. Now, just so you know, she did wet herself at her desk. And I know you said that she hasn’t really had bathroom issues in a while, so I assume it was just the stress.”

Claire’s grip tightened painfully on Jamie’s hand.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think she’d…”

“It’s okay. It happens to someone on the first day every year. It usually doesn’t happen more than one more time. She’s wearing the clean clothes you packed with her.”

“Ehm, okay,” Claire stammered. “Thank you so much.”

“Okay, I’ll call you again later to let you know how she did with the rest of the day.”

“Great. Thank you.”

“Bye-bye now.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead, and the phone collapsed in Claire’s lap as she buried her face in her hands. Jamie hung up the call to stop the ringing, and he pressed her against his chest.

“It’s alright, mo ghraidh.”

“No, it’s not…” she muttered tearfully against his chest. “I can’t do this, Jamie, I can’t. I’m going to go pick her up.”

“Hey.” Jamie tightened his grip on her, physically restraining her from getting up. “Ye’re no’ gonnae do that.”

“She hasn’t wet herself in nearly a year! Something is wrong! You could hear her crying. I have to go.”

She was nearing hysterics. Jamie pushed her away just enough to look in her eyes.

“Claire.” His voice was firm, tightly holding her shoulders. “Miss O’Reilly said she calmed down. What reason would she have to lie to ye?”

“She could’ve started right back in again once we hung up.”

“If you go get her now, she’ll never learn. She’ll think that if she pitches a fit that Mummy will come get her, and she can get out of school, or anything else. She needs to learn.”

He could tell how badly Claire wanted to look away, but she held his gaze. She welled up with fresh tears, and Jamie watched them trickle down her cheeks. Her chin trembled, and he, like the hypocrite he was, very nearly gave into her just to stop her from crying.

“You’re right,” Claire rasped, swallowing thickly. “I hate it…but you’re right.”

Jamie loosened his grip and moved his hands up to cup her cheeks. “It might be a long learning curve, but she will learn. She’s ready for school, I ken she is. She just doesna ken it herself yet. And ye canna give in before she has the chance to figure that out. She needs ye to give her this chance, Sassenach.”

Claire nodded, inhaling with a shuddering gasp. “I know.”

He tenderly kissed her forehead, letting it linger. “She’s a strong wee thing. And she gets it from her mother,” he said with pointed emphasis. “If she can do it, so can you.”

Claire nodded, swallowing again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sassenach.”

——

A bit after 3:30, the bus pulled up in front of the driveway, and both Jamie and Claire raced down the stairs. The doors to the bus opened, and Faith and Angus descended the stairs, Faith letting go of Carole’s hand to launch herself into Claire’s arms.

“Oh! Hello, darling!”

Jamie untethered her from Angus and commanded him to go upstairs and inside. Faith properly wrapped her legs around Claire’s waist, and she hoisted the girl up higher. Carole smiled sweetly down from the top of the stairs.

“How was she on the bus?” Claire called up.

“Fine, much more excited on the way back.”

The three adults shared a laugh.

“Oh, I bet,” Claire said, more to Faith then Carole. She fervently kissed her temple. “Thank you so much. I’ll be here tomorrow in the morning with her caretaker, and she’ll be getting her off without me.”

“Gotcha,” Carole said. The bus driver nodded as well.

“Okay, thank you, have a good day,” Claire said, waving. “Say bye-bye,” she crooned to Faith.

“Bye, thanks,” Jamie said, waving as well. Claire held Faith’s hand and waved with her, and the bus rolled away.

“Okay, time for Oreos!” Claire said.

“Aye, Oreos fer our big girl.” Jamie took Faith, knowing that Claire would have a hard time walking up the stairs with her. She was getting bigger every day.

They all sat at the kitchen table, Faith with her Oreos on her napkin, scraping the icing off with her teeth, Jamie and Claire watching her like she hung the stars, hands laced together. 

Jamie gave her hand a squeeze, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “She did it.”

Claire nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. “We did it,” she corrected.

Jamie’s answer was a fervent kiss to the crown of her head.

[deathwishy]

×MARTIAN AU×

It was April 1st and, according to plan, every hero from the Young Justice was present. Perfect.

It was hard, but Marinette and Tim managed to bring everyone together for the biggest prank in Young Justice history. Of course, their team mates didn't know that. Except Miss Martian. She found out by accident and they had to take her in, but it turned out to be the best decision ever.

It all began with a ghost story two months prior. They were already planning and Miss Martian was just brought in. They decided that it was the perfect moment to plant the seed of fear and doubt in their hearts.

It started out as an innocent game night. Most of their team was present except for Kaldur, Artemis, Wally and Bart. With conspiratorial looks, M'gann suggested watching a horror movie, saying that she didn't see one yet. The team agreed, suggesting a modern one with good graphics, as a good introduction to the genre. After the movie came to an end, M'gann snorted loudly, instantly attracting the attention of the team, without looking like it was her intention.

"What's the matter?" Asked Dick, grabbing the remote and stopping the movie at the credits. M'gann blushed.

"It's nothing, it's just... We had nursery rhymes scarier than this."

"Oh?" Demanded Superboy. "Do tell."

Tim and Marinette locked gazes when no one was looking and grinned maniacally.

"Well, there is a legend, which my brother told me, that kept me awake for months. The story itself is not that scary but the concept and the fact that it turned out to be real did a number on me."

And so the story began. It was a genuine Martian story but it was not real, as M'gann was claiming. It was about a being called a Raggan'aaz. A shadow being that walked Mars long before the Martians and dwelled in the caverns deep below the surface. They lived for long and wouldn't die of natural causes, only if killed. When the White and Green Martians came around, they were hunt down, but a few still remained. After that,hey craved Martian blood but they were also very careful and patient. After all, they wouldn't die because of old age. As years passed, they became a myth but still very alive in Martian culture. They even had a rhyme to remind the children to stay out of their supposed caverns, where people would still disappear. 'Stay, my child, away from dark/ Or The Martian will claim his mark/ Stay away from places long forbidden/ And beware the red eyes in darkness hidden.'

"Wait, you called him The Martian?" Asked Superboy, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, they were supposed to be the first Martians. And so the title of The Martians came to the beasts. This is a translation from my language, Raggan'aaz is the original term. Now let me finish."

Raggan'aaz were predators. It was said that they would stalk their prey for weeks, months, some said even years, before engaging. The prey would even go insane by the time they were killed, drove into madness by the beasts whispers and taunts. They wanted to imbue the flesh of their victim with the taste of fear. Of terror. Once they had a target in mind, they would not let go until it was dead.

"It's not that scary." Dick said, grinning and crossing his arms.

"Maybe not for you, but our people tend to beware when they see red in the darkness, shadows with the corners of their eyes or hear whispers without anybody nearby."

"Maybe people were just going insane."

"Maybe." M'gann shrugged and stood up. "I'll go to sleep now, good night."

The team felt just a tad bit uneasy but they blamed that on the movie. They didn't know that it was Miss Martian, suggesting a little fear on the psychic link. Nothing serious. The three weren't planning on permanently scaring their team.

Since then, Marinette told Trixx, who was extatic, to create illusions around the base. They kept them out of missions, they didn't want to create real problems. The tamer were nothing much, a shadow, a pair of glowing red eyes that were visible just for a second here and there, the more unsettling ones were a few babbling but ominous sounding whispers in the halls at night. M'gann made sure to get each member alone when Trixx made the illusions, guiding the kwami while invisible. When Kaldur, Artemis, Bart and Wally mentioned these things, the tension in the team only grew tighter. By the time April 1st came around, the Young Justice believed that they were hunt down by a Raggan'aaz.

                               ...

"I think it's bullshit. Everything began after M'gann told you that goddamn story." Started Bart a month later, looking around.

"Look, it's nothing, maybe the story was a bit more unsettling than we thought it was. Now we are just seeing things that are not there." Dick countered, waving around a cookie.

"Maybe she's pranking us." Pointed Artemis, plopping on the sofa. Wally followed her, snuggling next to her.

"Yeah, no, she's cool and all but she's not a prankster." Said Wally dismissively.

Tim and Marinette were watching from the side, trying not to laugh. It was a stupid prank but that's why it would work. But they would need a fourth player. Someone that would be trusted about Martian information and that was usually serious enough to be believed about serious stuff. They needed J'onn J'onzz.

The three cornered him when he visited the base a few days later, away from the rest.

"We need your help." M'gann began, flashing a smile. After a few seconds J'onn frowned slightly. M'gann only smiled wider.

"It's one of the most ridiculous plans I've ever heard. How did three of the smartest heroes in here come up with it? And why?" Now M'gann was listening too. She got on board but didn't know why they wanted this.

"We need to get back at them from what they did six months ago."

"When they threw us in a panic room and didn't let us out until we confessed our feelings for each other." Tim smiled at Marinette, taking her in a side hug and kissing her on the head. She blushed a little and just snugged closer.

"It worked out for us, in the end, but we can't let that slide. This is war."

"And yes, it is a stupid plan and a very stupid prank but that's why it will work."

"They will expect something elaborate from us, so this is the way to go. They will not know what hit them."

J'onn considered for a few seconds. That may work. He wouldn't usually partake in such a childish endeavor but he was curious about the outcome. The Raggan'aaz were mere folklore but they were terrifying, especially for Martian children. Human children may be just the same.

"Very well. I am curious about the outcome. What do you need me to do?"

The fearsome trio smirked. This would be epic.

After they briefed J'onn and set the date, a week from then, and dispersed. Tim couldn't believe that they convinced J'onn to do it, Marinette was thrilled about it and M'gann was giggling like an idiot.

A week later, J'onn J'onzz stumbled from the zeta tube, disheveled and clearly unsettled but otherwise not obviously harmed. He was clutching his side and he was limping but that was it.

"What the hell happened?" Dick was the first one to get to J'onn, helping him on a chair.

"I... Am not quite sure myself." He turned his eyes to M'gann, who was checking him for injures, playing her role flawlessly. "If I didn't know better I would have said it was a Raggan'aaz."

Bart dropped his phone, Kaldur and Artemis flinched, Superboy whipped his head around, until then being in a conversation with Dick, who looked queasy. The rest of the team had varying reactions.

"Bullshit." Blurted Artemis.

"It's real?!" Screamed Marinette, looking at M'gann, who was now becoming more pale by the second. With a little help from her powers.

"I told you it was real!"

"We thought it was just a crazy legend! What the hell?" Screamed Wally pulling at his hair.

The team was now full in full hysterics.

"I think you summoned it." Said Garfield in a matter of factly tone.

"What is that?" Asked J'onn with a neutral tone, but with a hint of concern. He was good.

"The Martian, Raggan'aaz, he's been prowling around this place for weeks. I didn't actually think it was one of the beasts, I told the team the story just because I saw some things that reminded me of them and thought it would be funny. It didn't pass my mind that an actual Raggan'aaz would be on earth. I think he was looking for you. How did you even escape him?" Asked M'gann, now breathing hard.

That was something that they came up with a few days ago, when they were brainstorming ideas to make the story more believable. J'onn approved when they talked after, seemingly stoic as ever, but M'gann told them that he will be definitely laughing after the call ended.

"I don't think I was his actual prey, otherwise I wouldn't have had a chance. I think is someone else, but I wouldn't be surprised if he tried a second time."

"We have to tell the Justice League, this is bad." Now Nightwing looked alarmed.

"Calm down. We are not 100% sure this is a Raggan'aaz. Maybe M'gann's story is getting to your heads. My encounter may have been a misunderstanding, it would not be the first time another Martian impersonated a Raggan'aaz. I will investigate the situation but I advise you to be vigilant."

That seemed to calm the team down, if only for a bit. Tim was hugging Marinette, his face hidden in her hair to hide his smile. He could feel her smile too in his chest. M'gann was keeping it together very well, talking with J'onn in hushed tones as she led him to the zeta tubes. Tim was now looking at Superboy, who looked uneasy. He was listening. Good. Let him fan the flames. The asshole was the one to throw them in the panic room.

April 1st, The Young Justice Base of Operation

The team was tense and paranoid but not very much above the normal level. All the heroes were tense and paranoid most of the time.

There have been no sightings of the Raggan'aaz since J'onn has been 'attacked' but no one feels out of the hook yet. They have been questioning M'gann relentlessly but she quite enjoyed sharing bits of her culture, all real facts that could be woven easily into the lie but would stand on their own when the prank was done. She liked her small victories.

As they planned, the team was afraid but not so afraid that it would start affecting them or that they would feel the need to further consult with the League about it. Martian Manhunter knew so the others must know too, or so the youngsters assumed.

In the morning something could be felt in the air, besides the smell of pancakes. It was a bit of Trixx's and Plagg's magic, a bit of mischief sprinkled in the air.

Tim, M'gann and Marinette were in the kitchen that morning, nothing unusual. Marinette and M'gann were making pancakes and Tim was drinking his much needed coffee. He had to be wide awake. They already bugged the whole base but nothing can beat the real thing.

As the team was lured into the kitchen, the Raggan'aaz made his appearance.

"I'm smelling Dupain-Cheng pancakes. This is the best 'Welcome back after 6 months in space' gift I could have hoped for." Adrien was practically skipping in the kitchen, stealing one of the plates. He then drowned them in syrup and whipping cream.

"Jesus Christ Adrien, stop, you'll get sick."

"Worth it."

"You came back a week ago. I've made pancakes then."

"Did you hear what I said? 6 months. I'm planning on making up for the lost time."

"I'm heading for the gym. Feel free to join me." Tim said, kissing Marinette. She giggled and winked.

The others either cooed or made gagging sounds. Adrien was grinning. He was the main Timari shipper. A few seconds after Tim left, there was screaming in the hall. Perfect timing.

When they saw the scene in the hall, the team freezed. There, before Tim, was something resembling a White Martian, but only in form. His skin was a dark red riddled with black veins, long white claws, a mouth full of gleaming yellow teeth and red eyes that looked like they could set you on fire. The beast almost reached 10 feet, but hen it went on all fours. Trixx had really outdone herself. Tim had his Bo staff out but kept his distance. After all, the illusion would fall as soon as they touched him so they had to make the most of it.

"What the hell is that?!" Screamed Adrien calling for his transformation. Nobody saw Plagg's grin.

"Raggan'aaz." Said Nightwing, pulling out his escrima sticks. They cracked with electricity. He looked ready to puke.

Artemis was swearing along with Wally, Kaldur looked like he might run, Garfield turned into a rhyno, looking terrified but ready to punce.

The beast groweled something that made M'gann gasp.

"He said that his mark is on all of us. We are his prey."

It was all they needed to attack. The speedsters tried to get to him first but the thing was just as fast, if not faster. After all, it didn't obey any laws of physics, it was just an illusion. Marinette was already transformed but she, M'gann and Tim were sitting on the sides looking like they were waiting for an opening. When it almost got cornered the Raggan'aaz jumped on the ceiling and then out of the room. With a battle cry, the team followed it. The three stayed behind, not trusting themselves to not laugh. There were a lot of screams and thuds but after a few minutes it went quiet.

When the young heroes strolled in, with the most betrayed faces they have ever seen, the three burst out laughing. They couldn't even speak for a few minutes.

"Was any of it true?" Asked Nightwing with his 'dissapointed big brother' face™.

"Only the story." Said M'gann gasping for air.

"How did you get J'onn on it?"

"Pretty easy actually, he didn't have that much to do so he agreed. It helps to be among his favorites." Replied Tim grinning. He was still clinging to a giggling Marinette.

"Why?" Asked Adrien with a pained look on his face.

" Panic room." The couple said at the same time.

"But that worked out!" Adrien shouted indignated.

"It did, but this was war. We needed to retaliate."

The Justice League heard about the war from J'onn after it was done and they thoroughly enjoyed the clips Tim sent them. They unanimously decided to not cross Tim and Marinette. The two could conquer the world if they weren't so sleep deprived.

Ok, so this was written at 3 AM and there might be some inconsistencies but please enjoy my best shot at this prompt.

This is set after season 2 of Young Justice and before season 3 but Wally is still alive because he never died in my heart.

This came later than I would've liked but civilian lives are a pain.

@timari-month-event

[spooderboyandtincan]

We’re with you...

Through thick and thin

TW: Graphic depictions of violence; blood

~~~~~

Tony felt his heart leap in fear when he heard a certain spider-baby’s voice behind him. He whirled around in mid air, dropping a few feet in shock before he stabilized himself.

“Hi, Mr. Stark!” Peter chirped excitedly, skillfully swinging in a large arc and flipping onto his armor, the eyes of his mask almost comically wide. “What’s up?”

Tony struggled to see the boy who was perched on his back, twisting his neck back and forth. “What the hell are you doing here, Pete?”

“I just wanted to help,” he whined, his head hovering upside down in front of Tony’s face. 

“No, you don’t,” he grumbled, trying to grab hold of his kid, who was crawling all over his back to avoid him. “You want to go back to school and learn about why the adults in your life are trying to keep you safe.”

Peter giggled. “I know, Tony, and I am safe. I have you!”

He said it so cheerfully, so matter-of-factly, as if Tony’s heart hadn’t melted and his brain hadn’t turned to mush at his precious kid’s words. He was grateful for the helmet shielding his face, otherwise Peter might have been soaked in his tears.

“Mr. Stark? You okay?”

He jerked out of his stupor. “Yeah.” He sniffed. “Yeah, buddy, I’m great.”

“Okay.” Peter sounded suspicious, but he let it drop. “Sure.”

“So, um... what’s going on?” He looked around, trying to find the other Avengers and their opponent(s).

Peter barely saw the blast in time. 

He jumped up and aimed a web at the nearest skyscraper, pulling Tony with him, the man letting out a shout of surprise. 

The spot where they had just been was now raining down ash and bright purple sparks.

Peter blinked the black spots out of his eyes, his ears ringing slightly. Gradually he realized that Tony was shouting; they were moving fast, Tony’s metal arms wrapped tight around him.

“Peter! Are you okay, Bug?” the man yelled frantically, masked face hovering in front of Peter’s.

“Arachnid,” he corrected. He heard Tony breathe a heavy sigh of relief. They landed on the roof of a towering skyscraper. Peter was sure that Mr. Stark was running over his vitals in the suit and checking for any injuries, no matter how minor they might be. Peter rolled his eyes.

“What was that?” he asked, looking around wildly. “Is Mister Doctor Strange here?”

“I am,” said a dry voice behind them. “But that wasn’t me.”

Tony jumped protectively in front of Peter as they spun around, then relaxed, just slightly, when he recognized the tall figure standing in front of the remnants of a glowing orange portal.

“Strange,” Tony greeted.

“Stark.” Stephen nodded.

Peter waved, grinning.

“What’s with the light show?” Tony asked, setting a hand on his kid’s shoulder.

“A wizard,” the doctor said shortly. “And a powerful one, too. Neoma Ambrosia. She’s fairly new to magic, but she’s dangerous.”

“I think Neoma means ‘new moon’ in Greek,” Peter mused quietly. Tony ruffled his hair proudly, nodding. My genius kid, he thought fondly. 

“Tony! What’s going on?”

Natasha, Sam, Steve, and Bucky ran up. Peter couldn’t help but wonder how they had climbed up to the roof. He imagined Sam trying to lug two super soldiers and a heavily armed assassin up a one hundred seventy-five meter tall skyscraper; Peter was sure he could do it.

“There’s a crazy wizard trying to kill us!” the young spider said enthusiastically. “Her name’s Neoma Ambrosia, which I’m pretty sure means ‘new moon’ in Greek, which is like, a super cool name. And she shoots purple fire! We haven’t seen her in, like, fifteen minutes, though.”

Tony chuckled as the other four Avengers blinked. His kid was a whirlwind, and he loved to listen to him chatter.

“Everyone keep watch!” Steve yelled, making Peter flinch. Tony squeezed his neck gently and glared at the super soldier, who remained oblivious. “Eyes peeled like grapes!”

“Ew,” Peter muttered. 

They spent the next ten minutes straining their eyes for any sight of Neoma.

Tony was about to turn to Steve and suggest they search the ground, when the edge of the roof exploded with a familiar purple fire, right where Peter was standing.

Tony screamed his child’s name, white, icy-hot terror running through his veins. Rubble tumbled off that building, falling with the small red and blue body. 

“No,” he whispered, thrusters at full speed. “No. No. No no no no!”

He crashed to the concrete and sprinted to the rubble that covered his kid.  

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” he muttered fervently, throwing the huge boulders with his iron hands as if they were pebbles. He was sure he could lift them just as easily without his suit with the fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins. All the while he yelled, over and over again, the name of the one reason he got out of bed in the morning, the one reason he was alive: his only child, his son, his baby. 

At last, at last, he spotted delicate curls peeking out from a hole in a red mask. Tony sobbed and crumpled to his knees, clearing the last of the rocks off of the boy’s small body.

“Peter,” he gasped. He peeled off his mask as gently as he could, hands trembling. “Peter.”

Miraculously, he was somehow awake. Tony sobbed frantically and kissed his forehead. His face was bruised and bloody, with tears rolling slowly off his cheeks. Peter held out shaking arms and made grabby hands, whimpering like a wounded kitten.

Tony ever so gently maneuvered the boy into his lap, Peter slumping heavily against his chest. He cupped his cheeks and kissed both of them, stroking his forehead and smiling tremulously. “Petey. Oh Petey.”

He bit back another cry, trying to hold in for his kid, who was cradled in his arms, bleeding and broken. Peter coughed, and with tremendous effort, lifted his hand to Tony’s face.

The man grasped it instantly, squeezing his small hand tight and trying to rub some sense of warmth into his cold skin. He pressed light kisses to the back of his hand. 

“Oh, baby, oh my god,” Tony whispered breathlessly, rocking his child back and forth in his arms. “You’re okay, you’re okay, sweetheart, shh.” 

Tears flowed down both their faces. Tony rushed to comfort Peter, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile and wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb. “We’re gonna fix you up, Petey, just hold on. Hold on for me, ‘kay? Doctor Strange and the rest are just making sure it’s safe, and Doctor Cho is coming right now- she’ll be here any second, okay? You just gotta hold on, Petey.”

He sniffed and snuggled Peter more tightly against his chest. “All you gotta do is focus on me. Just look at me, honey. I love you, baby, I love you so much. Stay with me, il mio bambino.”

Peter's eyes drifted lazily up to meet his. He struggled to focus on Tony’s face, his vision blurry and his eyes glassy. “Mi-mis’ er St’rk,” he croaked. “‘Ony.” He coughed, struggling to form words with his bloody, scratched lips and his dry mouth.

“Shh, shh,” Tony soothed. “Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re doing you great, Petey.” He tangled his fingers in Peter’s curls, smoothing his hair down comfortingly. “You’re doing so great, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.” Tony hastily wiped away his tears, which had begun to fall down to Peter’s face. “Just hold on, please.”

He squeezed his hand tightly, looking away and blinking rapidly when he realized his façade of calmness was shattering. 

Peter whimpered.

Tony’s eyes snapped back to his kid in fear. “Petey-?” he asked worriedly, then followed his gaze.

“Oh god.”

The sounds of blasts and explosions and fighting that faded completely came back full force when he realized the wizard was just ten yards in front of them, standing tall on a hill rubble, her dark gray robes swirling around her.

Tony gasped. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he rushed to protect his kid. He wrapped his arms tightly around Peter’s head and curled around the small body, effectively shielding him from an inevitable spell or explosion. 

And then-

He kicked off their pile of rubble and began to roll down, trying desperately to cushion Peter’s head as they gained momentum. Sharp stones slice at his skin but he favored protecting his kid far, far above his own safety. 

There was an explosion, so bright that purple swam in front of Tony’s closed eyes. Shards of glass and rock rained down on them and Tony could do nothing but squeeze Peter tighter and press his lips to his forehead and hope this wouldn’t be the end. 

Darkness.

~~~~~

He was really to have an Aunt May and an Uncle Rhodey, Peter thought drowsily. He blinked slowly up at the two, trying to smile. Rhodey clapped him on the shoulder gently.

“You okay, kid?”

“Mmmm.” Peter tried to form words but his lips were dry and cracked and his throat was sore and barren. 

Aunt May grabbed a glass off the bedside table while Rhodey used the remote to raise the bed into a sitting position and helped Peter shift around. May pressed the glass to his lips and he gulped the cool water down gratefully.

“Small sips, sweetie,” May advised, pulling the glass away. The boy didn’t seem to mind. He gazed up at the ceiling for a long moment, and both Rhodey and May thought he was about to fall asleep, but then Peter frowned. He looked to his left, and then to his right. 

“‘Ony? Wh-where’s…?” he rasped. Tears began to well up in his eyes. “‘Ony?”

“Tony’s right over there, bud,” said Rhodey. He gestured to where the billionaire lay, just a few feet away in a white hospital bed almost identical to Peter’s.

“Wan’ him.” Peter tried to sit up but May pushed him back down easily. 

“Tony’s right there, honey, right there, why don’t you go back to sleep?” 

“Wan’ Dad,” he whined. He tried to sit up again but fell back. “Dad.”

“Oh- oh, that’s so sweet,” May mumbled adoringly, while Rhodey tried to hold in a fond laugh.

“Dad!” Peter became increasingly more upset. Tears brimmed in his eyes and his bottom lip trembled.

“Okay, okay, Petey, calm down, it’s okay,” May cooed, rushing to comfort him and combing his hair. “Rhodey, can you help me move the bed?”

They unlocked the wheels of the bed and began to slowly roll it over to Tony.

~~~~~

When Tony faded back to the land of the living, he realized something was wrong right off the bat.

At first his realization was subconscious, in the pit of his stomach. Then, slowly, it grew, and grew, into full blown panic.

Something was missing- no someone, someone he knew that he couldn’t live without, someone precious who was not just his world but his universe-

Peter.

Peter.

Tony’s eyes snapped open and he jolted up in what he now realized was a hospital bed. His head swam and he swayed, the floor looming dangerously closer before he was caught in a pair of strong arms.

“Tony!”

The owner of a familiar voice heaved him back onto the bed. He blinked, trying to clear his head, and realized it was Rhodey, his Rhodey, bent over to look him in the eye and looking very concerned. “Tones? You okay?”

Tony looked around wildly, clutching Rhodey’s arm. His eyes settled on Peter, who was smiling loopily at him a few feet away. May hovered at his side, frowning worriedly at Tony.

“Petey.”

He tried to escape Rhodey’s strong grasp, desperate to get to his kid. Rhodey tried to comfort the distraught father while May pushed Peter over to him.

“Peter- Peter.” Tony began to sob. “Petey, c’mere. C’mere, baby.” 

May pressed the mattresses together and locked the wheels of the bed carefully, then double checking them just in case. She checked the various wires, making sure Peter’s IV, heart monitor, and oxygen tube were still in place. 

Meanwhile, with Rhodey’s help, Tony clambered over to his kid and almost collapsed next to him. He sobbed, cupping Peter’s face with gentle, calloused and resting his forehead against Peter’s. 

Tony was silent, spare the sharp sobs catching in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “‘M so sorry, Petey.” He began to crawl ungracefully under the covers and wrapped Peter ever so gently in his arms. The boy snuggled against him and hummed happily as Tony began fussing over him. 

He reminded Rhodey of a younger Tony at MIT, falling asleep in Rhodey’s bunk and holding a (Rhodey’s) teddy bear to his chest and snoring. 

“Geez, bud, you really can’t keep scaring your dad like this,” he muttered, grabbing Peter’s free hand and squeezing it. “He has a heart condition, y’know.”

Tony nodded and pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek, gasping softly in adoration at the giggle he received. His eyes were huge and sparkling with love. It was a sharp contrast to his previous tears, and much more sweet for Rhodey and May to watch. 

“Poor kiddie,” Tony murmured, stroking Peter’s cheek with a calloused thumb. “My poor kiddie.” 

“Aww,” Rhodey and May whispered almost simultaneously. They exchanged an amused glance and laughed.

Tony glared at them. “Shhh. He's resting!” he hissed, rather loudly. Peter blinked sleepily up at him, but Tony kissed his forehead to comfort him and he relaxed against his chest.

“Right,” May chuckled. “Right, sorry.”

Tony paused and then nodded in satisfaction. He combed his fingers through Peter’s hair soothingly and looked up to Rhodey and May. “This-this’s my baby. He’s my baby. M-my baby, my spider-baby,” Tony mumbled, kissing the boy’s forehead.

Rhodey snorted and struggled to hold in his laughter. May grinned. “Our spider-baby,” she corrected, caressing Peter’s cheek with her fingers.

To their great amusement, Tony pulled the now asleep Peter to his chest protectively, his arms tightening around him as he buried his nose in his curls and shook his head. “Mine.” 

“Yours?” she laughed, raising her eyebrows.

“H-he’s my baby, and I’m his dad. And it’s my job to-to protect him. ‘Cause I’m his dad,” he explained. “And I love him. So much. I love him.”

May giggled. “Aww, Tony, don’t worry, Peter knows it.” 

“FRIDAY, please tell me you’re recording this,” Rhodey whispered.

“Rest assured, I am,” the AI replied, sounding as fond as a disembodied voice could be.

“This is adorable,” he said, looking back to the very loopy Tony. May nodded. She patted Rhodey on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort, knowing how worried they both had been when they’d seen the medical helicopter land at the compound.

Trying to keep the two superheroes safe, as they had realized, was a challenge, especially when they couldn’t always be there. May couldn’t fly. And even though Rhodey could, they both had jobs that kept them busy.

It was hard to be there for a superhero, but it was easy to love them. They might not be there always, but goddammit, they’d do anything and everything in their power to make sure they were okay. 

A soft snore, more like a purr than anything, interrupted the pair’s thoughts.

Peter’s cheek was squashed on Tony’s chest. Tony took the sleeve of his hospital gown and wiped the drool from his chin, looking unhappy about how rough the cloth was on his baby’s skin. 

“I need a hoodie,” he muttered. Rhodey graciously offered to grab one, happy to take a coffee break, and May left to grab one of Peter’s. (Though most of Peter’s hoodies were actually ones he had stolen from various friends and family.)

When Rhodey and May returned from the expeditions of rummaging through many messy drawers and selecting as many hoodies as they could find, they grabbed a quick coffee and hurried back to the medbay.

They found both Tony and Peter fast asleep. Tony’s arms were wrapped around his kid tightly, one hand in the boy’s curls and the other wrapped around his back and holding him close. Peter’s head rested on his chest as a makeshift pillow, looking absolutely tiny in the big bed with Tony protecting him, even in sleep. 

May laughed fondly, kissing Peter’s forehead and then settling in her squishy purple chair. Rhodey flopped down in a leather armchair and they both took a big swig of their coffees. 

Rhodey pulled out a Starkpad and began scrolling, while May fished a book and her glasses out of her purse. 

They would be there for as long as it took for Tony and Peter to recover. And after that, they would still be there. They loved their superheroes, even though May and sometimes even Rhodey, forgot that they were superheroes too.

~~~~~

Taglist: @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @honeythepooh @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @bringitonvoldie @queen-of-sarcasm-25 @roxy3457 @memilon @iron-loyalty @gralaca @bitchingpretty @pillowspace @thatminecraftgal @clockworkteacup @hatakehikari @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @skydiving-without-a-parachute

If you want to be added/removed let me know!

~~~~~

/ST*RKERS DNI/

[sevenincubistolemyheart]

Yoongi’s Oneshot

Au: Mafia

Tag List: @xsunnyhoseokx  @wilhelminalucinda  @amiraclerenee @inutiledediscuter

Rating: M

Potential Triggers: I will carefully note the rating has once again turned to M but I’ll be leaving this as the only warning(unless otherwise explicitly asked) given the heavy spoilers saying all the potential triggers could provide. The only explicit triggers I’ll give in advance is involuntary drugging, grieving, and psychological trauma. Everything will also be under the cut. Authors Note at the end!!

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x reader

Genre: Drama, Crime, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort

Length: 4k+

You murmured softly in your sleep, tossing and turning as you gradually grew more and more panicked. It’s a miracle you hadn’t had any night terrors after what happened. Your imagination was always quite vivid after all so you supposed you should count your blessings you’d even lasted this long. In either case, all you could see when your eyes finally shot open was white. At first you assumed you were merely adjusting to a bright light...but then it didn’t stop. Including when you moved. And a look down let you know that you were also in the silk white pajamas Yoongi had gifted you last night. All that surrounded you was pure white and you realized abruptly you clearly weren’t dreaming any longer and also had been sleeping on the floor. A quick search of the room ensued, as your eyes flicked around, searching for distinct cameras or a way out and yet...you found nothing. You refused to let yourself panic, putting together that Yoongi must have gifted you these so you’d match with the room.  

You weren’t in enemy captivity, but that didn’t mean you weren’t on edge. Taehyung’s little stunt had reminded you that these people, though often kind to you, had much more sadistic sides to themselves than you typically got to see. You vaguely recalled looking up sensory deprivation as a potential topic for a psychology project, but opted to study dream analysis instead. Lot of good that was gonna do you. You didn’t need any symbolism to know you were merely coping with your grief in your sleep since you still refused to actively show it around the others but now...that info on sensory deprivation sure would’ve been helpful. You tried to wrack your brain for any memories of what you’d looked up, but only vaguely recalled the need to keep your mind active, though you couldn’t fully remember how. Wasn’t that only for long periods of time? 

Where was Yoongi? Why was he putting you through this? You felt your breathing starting to increase, noticed you were beginning to grow paranoid and took several deep breaths, counting to 4 as you inhaled, holding for 8 and then releasing for another 4. It was a breathing technique you recalled your chorus teacher telling you to do back in high school. How was she doing? 

Your breathing finally evened out but you found your eyes were glazed over. You shook off your little stupor, tried to get back on topic. Why were you thinking about your chorus teacher right now? You had more important things to be pondering! Like what Yoongi wanted to see from you so he’d let you out. 

You began to hum absentmindedly. Closing your eyes as you welcomed the now unfamiliar blackness. You aren’t sure for how long they remained so but when next they opened you felt like it was now nighttime. How long had Yoongi left you here for? Was this some kind of punishment? Did you do something wrong? Nothing came to mind. Maybe they just finally realized you were a liability. That you’d never be as good a Nurse as your Mother.

It was then that you saw the door opening inwards and after spotting Yoongi, and blinking several times to adjust to the new colors, you literally rushed him, making him scramble to release the door and hold onto you as you shook violently for reasons you didn’t understand. Tears came spilling from your eyes faster than you could stop them and you barely managed to ask him through your sobs. 

“W-Why did you leave me there for so long!? Did I do something wrong? Please, just tell me and I’ll fix it!! N-Never do that again!” 

Yoongi looked taken aback as he forced you off him far enough away to get a good look at you and his expression morphed from one of bewilderment and shock to analysis. He knelt down, cupping your hands in his cheeks as he saw you frantically looking around at everything, as though scared you’d never see it again. You were acting like some kind of crack addict going through withdrawals. The sound of footsteps made you whip your head around but he refused to let you look, resolutely keeping your head still. 

“Focus on me and stop moving. How long do you think you were in there?”

His voice was a quiet mumble. 

“18 hours, at the least. Maybe even 24. It’s nighttime now isn’t it? Please I want to go see everyone!” 

“Y/N. You were only in there for 8 hours. You shouldn’t be experiencing this so intensely. You didn’t hear or see anything else in there did you? I need you to be completely honest with me.”

You shook your head quickly, even as you bounced on your heels. 

“Mm-mm! No,  I-” 

Before you could even finish your denial he was starting to pull up the short sleeves of your pajamas up past your shoulders and then snarling at you.

“What the fuck did you do to yourself you idiot!?” 

You looked at him in genuine confusion and he growled lowly before brushing his thumb over your bicep causing you to hiss at the sharp rush of pain that greeted you. 

“Ow, Yoongi what the Hell!?”

You looked down and realized you'd dug your nails into your arms, holding yourself during that brief, fitful sleep you'd had so tightly you'd drawn blood and caused wounds. On top of that you'd apparently continued scratching once you'd awoken, irritating the wounds even further.

"Wow that's all it took to break her? Pathetic."

Jungkook's snort made you squirm in Yoongi's grasp to look at him and this time, he let you as he was occupied examining your wounds. 

Yoongi released you with a simple nod to Jungkook before walking off. 

"Watch her."

Once you were out of his grip you hopped over to the built boy, clinging to his arm even as he jolted in surprise that quickly turned to disgust even as a surprised blush stained his cheeks pink. 

"Th-The Hell!? Get off me you freak!"

He began slowly working you off his body but you pouted and resolutely stayed on him like glue. 

"Nuh-uh!! Never thought I'd miss you being an ass but here we are! Suck it up!"

You were so focused on trying to stay attached to Jungkook you didn't hear the footsteps this time and squealed as you were tugged off by Yoongi and into his chest face first who sighed. 

"...Calm down. You're not going back in ever again. I promise. You're gonna be okay. Focus on my heartbeat and count the beats okay? Try to match your breathing to it." 

"The fuck did you do to make her all clingy and weird? You better fix her! If she's fucked in the head for when I train her-" 

"Quiet down. If you don't want to overwhelm her and make things worse I'd suggest keeping your mouth shut."

Just the two bickering was making you start to get squirmy again and Yoongi tightened his grip slightly in response while Jungkook snapped his mouth shut. Your shaking gradually started to subside to the occasional shiver as you did as Yoongi instructed, slowly being soothed by his consistent heart rate. Your breathing also started to even out, and you found yourself surprised at how slow his heartbeat was. 

He had seemed so panicked but moments earlier after all. He must have real control. 

Noticing you slightly beginning to calm, Yoongi gradually released his grip on you to look you in the eyes.

“...Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take you over to the infirmary where I’ll hand you off to Hoseok. You won’t be seeing anyone but 2 people at once for at least today and tomorrow. I’m not risking damaging your psyche further by overstimulating you right after depriving you.”

His voice was as monotone as ever but you felt the way his hand trembled slightly as he grabbed your wrist before he abruptly released you, tersely demanding you follow him instead. 

You did so, albeit slowly as you risked a glance around the room for Jungkook, only mildly surprised when you found he’d slipped out silently. 

You were more surprised he’d left quietly more than the fact that he’d abandoned you in such a state. He’d probably gone to tell Taehyung what awful shape you were in so they could laugh about how weak you were. 

Wonderful. 

You almost wished your lucidity wasn’t returning.

Gods, the way you’d clung to him like a child was so embarrassing. You could only pray given his, what you remembered to be, flustered reaction that he’d never mention it again. At least Yoongi mercifully didn’t seem focused on your display though it was mainly because he was probably more distressed by the reaction from a psychological perspective than anything as kind.

Yoongi opened the door to the infirmary for you and let you enter first before following suit. You spotted Hoseok at the large desk overlooking a window to the greenery you’d been lost in not too long ago with Taehyung, sorting different bags of powder. He looked up at your arrival and frowned as he scanned you up and down before his eyes locked on your injured shoulders and then jumped to Yoongi as he rose to his feet and made his way over. 

“The Hell did you do? I thought she was only going in the sensory deprivation room for 8 hours, how did she manage to hurt herself?” 

Yoongi sighed heavily, watching as you hugged Hoseok who recipricorated gently before he led you over to the infirmary bed nearest to you and setting you down gently. 

“She used her nails; it happened when she was sleeping apparently. I watched the whole time, but when she started sleeping I left to eat...I should’ve picked up on the signs and never put her in this situation. I thought it would be a gentle enough way to start building her mental tolerance to torture should the others ever try such a thing. You know EXO’s policy about women.” 

Hoseok grunted in acknowledgment of his words as he pulled over the metal cart with basic medical supplies he hadn't gotten around to fully cleaning since his own training session two days ago. 

“Blaming yourself isn’t going to make her better so knock off the self loathing bullshit going on in your head right now and get me a wet rag and a bucket with soap and water. I need to clean the wounds before they become infected. You may have caused this situation but you can also fix it so move your ass.”

His voice was crisp, cool and nothing like his typically cheerful self making you blink at him in delirious confusion, your alertness seemed to be fading in and out, despite your best efforts to hang onto it. Everything just seemed so overwhelming, and almost new to you. 

Yoongi listened without quarrel however and nodded before he left the room, to do what Hoseok had ordered you had to guess. 

“Alright lovey I need you to keep your eyes on mine okay? I know it’s hard to focus right now but I want to check some things.” 

His voice had changed tones again, now sweet and gentle as you knew him. You liked this version better, you decided as your eyes flicked up to meet his. 

His smile widened a bit, making his eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement. 

“I happen to prefer this side to me too. Unfortunately, I don’t get the chance to let it out very often in my line of work. It’s nice for it to be genuine for once. Now; I want you to talk to me about the day you found out your Mother died. Do you think you can do that for me sweetie?”

You frowned and blearily shook your head in denial, not registering the fact that he was rubbing a wet cloth on the inside of your arm about a third of the way up, nor the fact that the area went numb and tingly. Your whole body felt numb and tingly honestly; what was one more area?

“I don’t wanna talk about that.” 

Your voice had grown small, intrusive images already making themselves known inside your mind as your frown deepened, and his smile only widened. Thanks to your gaze being locked on his you noticed when his eyes flicked to the door suddenly, making you look too in anticipation, expecting Yoongi to perhaps be entering or for someone to be there only to not notice the needle entering your arm on the other side. 

You turned back to him with a pout of confusion but swayed suddenly as the world spun. You would’ve surely fallen had you not been lying down securely in the bed. Why did you feel like you were floating? Was this normal? A part of the side effects of your brief time in the sensory deprivation chamber? 

“How are you feeling now? Ready to tell me about that night?” 

You beamed, suddenly so exhilarated despite the world spinning that you felt giddy; your mind barely comprehending the words Hoseok hit you with or their meaning, just starting to speak without conscious awareness. 

“Mmhmm sure! So, it’s pretty funny actually! I was just coming home from grocery shopping, and I stopped at the craft store before heading home to get Mom some of those adult coloring books since I could tell how anxious she was lately. We used to love doing that together you know? And!” 

You giggled, grinning even at the painful nature of your story. If only it was just a story. 

“She’d promised me we’d spend the whole day together since she was away all the time; now I know she was tending to you. Instead of being home with me, her y’know actual daughter.”

You giggled again, clearly delirious.

“So I finally got home, and when I walked inside I saw her just...bleeding everywhere. She was already dead, or so Namjoon told me later. He’d sent some grunts or something so as soon as I walked in I was being dragged out and to a car before I could even protest. None of you could even bear to clean up the mess you made! You must all be cowards of epic proportions. I mean seriously! You left her body to your grunts? After all she did for you? Real pathetic; lemme tell ya.”  

You shrugged with a beaming smile, feeling a large wave threatening to drag you under as your blinks began to slow.

“At least she’s not anxious anymore though right?” 

Hoseok listened to your story with that kind smile of his never once leaving, nodding in agreement to everything you said so you wouldn’t stop and pet your hair until blissful unconsciousness finally took you and you lost the war to stay conscious with a question of Yoongi’s disappearance being the last words to escape your lips. 

Hoseok’s smile dropped and he turned towards the closet cooly, perceptive gaze narrowing. 

“...You can come out now.” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes as he stepped out. 

“You coddle her too much. You should’ve just given her an interrogation drug instead of a gentle dose like that. We would’ve gotten the information quicker.” 

Hoseok chuckled as he shrugged, uncaring as he took in Taehyung with detached indifference. 

“I got the information didn’t I? And she won’t remember any of this. All the better for our plan. How’s Jungkook? Still distracting Yoongi?” 

Taehyung nodded. 

“Has him held hostage in the kitchen. It’s not like it takes much effort to play the brat on his part.” 

Hoseok nodded, risking a glance at your slumbering form and Taehyung did the same. 

There was a beat of silence and then. 

“...We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?”

“We’re doing the only thing we can. And that’s enough.” 

Taehyung suddenly flung himself back into the closet with a vengeance and silently rushed to close the door as he heard the infirmary door just beyond the wall burst open; barely managing it in time as Hoseok concealed the needle in his pocket and feigned confused annoyance at Yoongi’s abrupt entrance. 

“Hyung! Quiet down or you’ll wake her! She just finally fell asleep. What the Hell took you so long?!” 

Yoongi panted as he glanced around the room suspiciously and Hoseok briefly caught Jungkook’s vaguely concerned gaze behind him making Hoseok shoot him a dark look. All he’d had to do was give them the heads up he was returning! It could’ve been a single letter! But now there hadn’t been any time and-

“What’s this?”

Yoongi’s voice was quiet, but Hoseok could recognize that deadly tone anywhere. 

His attention quickly shifted to see what he was referring to and his heart dropped although his annoyed expression remained unchanged. 

Fuck.  

The vial he’d used to extract the drug sat in between Yoongi’s fingers and he cursed himself for forgetting such a detail. 

“Did you inject her with this?” 

Yoongi’s eyes were like icy knives, cutting him to the quick and daring him to lie. He needed to play his cards right here or things could go very badly very quickly. Sure, the most secret documents were in his room but the ones in here would be enough to get him at least under suspicion and he just couldn’t have that right now. Not when they were so close.

Yoongi was growing impatient, his eyes narrowing all the more to fine, catlike slits as he strode forward to hiss into Hoseok’s face. 

“Have you gone deaf? I said, ``Did you inject her with this?!”

“I did. I had to. She grew violent and-”

Yoongi grabbed him by the collar and Jungkook entered the room in panic but Hoseok waved his hand quickly to shoo him away, knowing better than to move his eyes when Yoongi was watching him so closely. One wrong move when Yoongi was in analysis mode and he’d blow all of their covers. 

“Don’t fuck with me Jung. She was acting delirious to an extent yes, showing signs of a need for intense affection and physical contact as by isolating her I accidentally triggered her psyche to momentarily put down her walls and ask for the touch she needs since she’s been touch starved for God knows how many years. But she was anything but violent. Try again. And this time if you don’t tell me what I want to hear, I’ll just have to bring this to Namjoon.”

The dark smirk was on his lips before he could stop it, but he used it to his advantage. 

“Like you aren’t going to anyway? You always were his favorite lapdog. Well…” 

A smirk more snarl than smile twisted his expression to something even more ugly. 

“Besides Seokjin that is.”

Yoongi looked stricken just as he’d intended and then he found himself collapsing from the impact of Yoongi’s fist on his cheek, followed swiftly by a kick to his stomach that made him cough as he curled up slightly even as a pained laugh escaped his lips.  

“Oh? Did I hit a nerve-” 

He was cut off with a kick, to the head this time that had him seeing stars. 

“Good thing you’re not the only one with a taste for hitting them eh? Maybe now you can feel how she did when you injected her with that crap.” 

Hoseok dazedly realized he was being turned so his front was open to Yoongi and found himself straddled and then punch after punch was being delivered as Yoongi snarled venomously down at him. 

“You are going to tell me exactly why you injected her and then we’re both going to tell Namjoon what you-”

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to be cut off. 

Hoseok’s eyes widened and he shouted, loudly. 

“NO!” 

The chair met Yoongi’s head with the sound of splintering wood, and he promptly fell to the floor unconscious as Taehyung panted heavily, eyes swirling with panic and adrenaline coursing through his body as he held out his hand to help Hoseok up. 

Seeing the scene coming to an abrupt end Jungkook rushed to close and lock the door behind him; never so thankful for Namjoon soundproofing the medical ward after he screamed his head off having his wound cauterized one too many times. 

Hoseok gritted his teeth in irritation as he smacked Taehyung’s hand aside, brushing the back of his hand over his now bleeding nose and spatting the blood that filled his mouth from his teeth being forced to bite down on his tongue too hard. 

“...Now look what you’ve done. This wasn’t supposed to happen until her training was fully complete and now we’re going to have to move it up.”

Taehyung scoffed, looking offended. 

“What; no thank you for saving you, you ungrateful ass? Yoongi would’ve continued till you were unconscious for that comment you made.”

“Exactly! That’s what I wanted you-!”

Hoseok cut himself off with a sigh and turned to the girl sleeping obliviously in the bed. 

“Nothing we can do about it now. Jungkook, you’ll be the one to clean those wounds and then carry her out when the time comes.They may be superficial but it’ll be a problem if they become infected on the road. I’ll grab the materials from my room and Taehyung; you’re on weapon and surveillance duty. If we so much as miss one tracker or are spotted by one camera...this whole operation is blown. I hope you finished the map in time. We meet back here in 30 minutes. If one of us doesn’t show...we leave without them. Understood?” 

Jungkook nodded, as did Taehyung and Jungkook was quick to grab the water jug, soap and rag that Yoongi brought in and tried to remind himself to go somewhat gently as he soaked the rag and scrubbed the soap into it before he ran it over your damaged shoulders. He made sure to get the entire area, just to be safe. He was pretty sure Hoseok wasn't above actually killing him if he didn’t clean them up to his standards and he still had plenty of things left to do in his life. 

It only took him about 10 minutes to clean your small scrape wounds to his liking and he quickly finished up by wrapping them in bandages just in case before he set about grabbing whatever suitable medical equipment they may need in the meantime. Gods forbid your wound did get infected, or he or one of the others got injured they’d have some way to cope.

Taehyung returned with 10 minutes to spare, just as Jungkook was placing his gathered medical supplies into a non discript black duffel bag. He was carrying his own bag; also black to better blend in with the night and no doubt filled to the brim with weapons and interrogation tools he’d rather not dwell on for long. 

They were both starting to get antsy as only 5 minutes remained as Hoseok finally rejoined them. In the meantime they’d bound both bags together for ease of carrying and Hoseok observed their handiwork with a hum of approval that made Jungkook’s heart swell despite himself. Praise from Hoseok was so hard to come by, it was something that was to be savored. 

Hoseok mumbled an apology, explaining he’d taken the risk to gather some clothes for all of them in addition to the files and other supplies they’d need. They were doing the right thing, he was sure of it. There was no time for second guessing now; not with a bleeding Yoongi on the floor, an unconscious brat and an ever shrinking time limit. They had to go now. 

At Hoseok’s signal, with Taehyung leading the way with map in hand they began to exit; First Taehyung, then Jungkook with girl in tow, and finally Hoseok. He hesitated for just a moment and then shoved open his vial drawer and grabbed several, rushing to read the labels. Just in case she got too rowdy, he told himself, quickly rushing to follow after his partners in arms. 

He paused just one more time before he left and never looked back, eyes locking on Yoongi as a brief expression of pained regret flashed across his face.

‘...’

‘...Forgive me brother. But I did what I had to. You’ll come to understand one day, I hope.’

And then they were gone.

________________________________________________________________

A/N: Welp; that just happened! I hope you all enjoyed this and I want to apologize from the bottom of my heart for my lengthy absence. Depression hit me hardcore with the arrival of Covid and writing became a major struggle.I was only recently able to complete this after much struggle thanks to the darker subject matter and the characters themselves screaming at me what to do. 

I will be participating in Monster Smash 2020 with @ksmutclub​ so look forward to my Scream AU(and do let me know if you have any good titles!) coming soon. 

As for Tainting Purity...I love that series. So much. But this most recent chapter has really killed my motivation. I think I may have unintentionally censored myself to be more socially correct because it was going a certain direction and that bothers me. I just want to warn you guys; I may have to scrap it and start entirely from scratch to let it fully be my own. 

It’s good to be back guys; I hope you’ll forgive me for dropping off planet Earth and welcome me back with your thoughts on the newest chapter. I love all you guys. <3

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

If You Just Realize

Part Ten: Don’t Want to Lose Us

Summary: Sebastian decides to take a chance; Milena asks a hard question. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 2030 Series Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Chapter Warnings: None beyond series warnings.  Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language.

Series Masterlist

A month after they married, they spent a weekend moving into the new house. Y/N’s assistant back in Los Angeles was packing up her things to send to New York, and had already sent a few boxes to get her started with her own things. Milena’s room was set up, Y/N and Sebastian had a bed to sleep in, and the rest of the boxes were unpacked as the week went on. 

Sebastian got up with Milena the following weekend and made breakfast. They watched a few cartoons, then decided to get out of the house for a while. 

“Let me tell Y/N, then we’ll go. Why don’t you go pick a couple toys to take in the car?”

Milena rushed to her room, anxious to start the selection process. Sebastian smiled after her, then headed to the master bedroom. Y/N was still sound asleep. She seemed to finally be sleeping well after so many things happening at once, and he hated to even wake her to tell her they were leaving, but he couldn’t resist the sleepy smile she usually gave him when their eyes met for the first time every day. Sure enough, when he leaned over her and said her name, softly caressing her cheek, her eyes fluttered open and that smile showed, sleepy but still bright. 

“Morning,” she greeted, stretching her arms above her head before relaxing them again, one hand settling against the arm Sebastian was leaning on. “Sorry for sleeping so late.”

“Nah, it’s not that late. I’m gonna take the little one to look at Halloween costumes, get her out of the house for a little bit. You sleep as late as you need to — I’ll call when we’re on our way back home, see if you need anything.”

Y/N yawned and rolled over, curling back around her pillow. “You’re the best. I’ll be waiting for your phone call.”

The way she smiled up at him, the way she looked so comfortable in his bed — in their bed — made Sebastian want to kiss her before he left. He hadn’t done so since the night of their wedding, with the heated kiss in their hotel room. Y/N could deny it all she wanted, but he knew that had something to do with how overwhelmed and closed off she was right after their wedding. After all, things had more or less returned to normal between them since then; that was a dead giveaway. As more moments to show affection presented themselves, like this one, Sebastian found himself more and more disappointed he hadn’t controlled himself better on their wedding night. 

You’re going to have to figure it out, he warned himself, because it’s only going to get more and more difficult to control yourself. 

He couldn’t let himself cross that line again and scare her away. He needed to come up with a plan to either stop these feelings from developing any further, or a way to find out if maybe Y/N was willing to explore more than friendship and a marriage of convenience between them. 

Date her. 

The thought was quiet and almost fleeting but Sebastian caught it before it was too far from his mind to catch a hold of. He heard about people dating their spouse all the time, but it hadn’t occurred to him until just now that the same way other couple stayed in love might be the perfect way to find out if his wife could fall in love with him. 

At the Halloween store, Sebastian made a quick call to see if his parents were available to babysit on short notice, then put the date on the back burner for the time being so he could concentrate on his time with Milena. 

“Uncle Seb?” she started as he lifted her out of her seat, making sure her toys stayed in the car. 

“What’s up, munchkin?”

Milena took his hand as they crossed through the parking lot. “Is my mama gonna come get me soon?”

He was gutted and guilty. His heart broke with the idea of telling his precious niece that her mama wasn’t ever coming to get her. He had been selfish, thinking so much of how things were going to work out with Y/N, and not enough about how Milena was doing. He sighed and turned back to the car with Milena. He opened the driver’s side door and sat her down. With a shaky inhale, he crouched down to her level. 

“I wish your mama could come get you, baby — not because I don’t want you with me, but I know how much you must miss her. I miss her every second of every day. She was my baby sister. Beautiful, just like you.” Milena’s face didn’t smile. “Remember when Bunica told you that your mama is in Heaven? It’s beautiful there. No one gets hurt, no one is sad. But when people go there, they have to stay. That’s why you’re living with me and Y/N, okay?”

Milena’s chin quivered and her bottom lip pouted out. She whispered, “Mama’s not coming?”

Sebastian didn’t have a chance to answer before the little girl was full-on crying. He took a deep breath to keep himself from crying and lifted her into his arms. He sat sideways in the driver’s seat and held her, promising that no matter what, he and Y/N would always take care of her. She would always have a home and would always be loved. 

“I know it’s not the same as being with your mama,” he comforted, “but you’re never going to be alone, Milena. We want you with us and we are always going to want you.”

He would remind her as many times as he needed to over the course of her lifetime, he knew. As her cries turned to whimpers, Sebastian made a mental note to narrow down the list of child counselors and therapists he and Y/N had already compiled, so that Milena could start that process as soon as possible. 

“Do you still want to go in here, or do you want to go home? Or we could go to the park?”

Milena sniffled. “Wanna look at the princesses.”

Sebastian smiled and stood from the car, making sure it was locked before positioning her on his hip and proceeding into the store. 

By the time Sebastian called Y/N, she was up and unpacking the last of the boxes. He promised to make lunch when they returned and warned her that before anything else could happen, Milena was going to want to try on her Halloween costume. 

“Also, that list that we made,” he commented, obviously trying to be discreet, “we need to narrow it down and start making some calls on Monday. I’ll tell you later what happened.”

“Oh, okay. The list is in the desk drawer — I made sure we kept good track of it. You guys be safe, please.”

“We will. See you soon.”

Y/N disconnected the call and went back to the unpacking. It felt good to have the boxes all emptied and the house set up. They would need to get a few things to fill the extra rooms, and Y/N still had some things coming from LA, but otherwise, they were settled. She broke down the boxes and put them out with the recycling, then got a sweater to keep her warm from the chilly air while she sat out on the back patio with a cup of coffee. 

While her feelings hadn’t changed in the last month — if anything, they had grown stronger — but, with Kennedy’s help, she had decided to embrace her life as it was. Sebastian hadn’t changed, Milena needed her; there was no reason for Y/N to be in a constant panic. With her calm came the return of their usual friendly exchanges of affection — though sometimes, Y/N had to admit, she had to wonder if the things Sebastian said and did were maybe coming from a place of feelings that matched her own. 

“Look! Look! M’really gonna be a princess!” Milena exclaimed, breaking Y/N from her reverie. She proudly held up the princess costume and grinned. 

Y/N made a show of being impressed. “That is so beautiful! A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl! Did you have so much fun looking at all of the things with Uncle Seb?”

Milena nodded. “We got pumpkins! But they’re not real.”

“Pumpkins? Ooh, c’mon, show me! Then we’ll try your dress on while Uncle makes lunch for us.”

The little one raced ahead, but Y/N took her time to catch up. She met Sebastian in the kitchen, kissing his cheek. He pulled her into a tight hug — tighter than usual. 

“You okay?” she frowned. 

Sebastian sighed. “Milena asked if her mom was coming to get her soon.”

“Oh, Seb …”

She broke the embrace for only a moment, to set her coffee cup down. She had learned over the years that when he felt in over his head, when he felt like he was drowning in whatever life had thrown at him, a good hug went a long way to getting Sebastian to the point where he felt like he could move forward and conquer each new obstacle. 

“That’s why you wanted to look at the list,” Y/N surmised. 

He nodded, still holding on to her. “I don’t want her to be completely broken, you know? You were right. We have to handle this now, before it gets worse. We’re lucky, I’d guess, that the night terrors aren’t happening more often.”

Small feet running through the house broke up their embrace. Milena was in her Halloween costume — although the dress was backwards, and the tiara was lopsided on her head. 

“You got changed all by yourself, look at you go,” Sebastian chuckled, fixing her tiara. “You are the most beautiful princess there ever was.”

“I agree,” Y/N grinned. “How about you and me go find some shoes in your closet to go with it?”

“Yay, yay, yay!” Milena cheered, leading the way to her bedroom. 

Y/N lingered behind. “You okay, for now?”

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, for now. Thanks, Y/N/N.”

She only smiled and went after Milena. Her heart was telling her to hold on to him longer, but her head reminded her that he wasn’t the only one who needed her. 

After lunch, when Milena was down for her afternoon nap, Sebastian decided to lay down for a nap of his own. Having slept in, Y/N wasn’t too sleepy, but she offered to lounge with him and watch some quiet TV while he napped. She leaned against the headboard, flipping through channels with the remote in one hand, and softly carding the fingers of her other hand through his hair while he rested. 

“Hey,” he whispered, taking her hand in his, “I had an idea. My parents are free to watch Milena tonight. Do you want to go to dinner with me?”

“Oh. Um, sure. Where do you want to go?”

He mentioned a place that was nice but not fancy. “We haven't done anything, just the two of us, since the wedding. I know Milena is our focus right now, and we’ve been getting the house settled, but I don’t wanna lose us, either.”

“Me either,” Y/N agreed. “What time do you want to go?”

He thought for a moment. “We can drop her off at seven-thirty, then leave from there?”

“Sounds good to me.”

With their plans in place, Sebastian closed his eyes again. Y/N resumed her channel flipping and running her fingers through his hair. While he slept, she mentally played back his words over and over again — too many times. 

I don’t want to lose us. 

She didn’t want to lose them, either, certainly, but Sebastian, it seemed was trying hard to hold on to their friendship. It reminded her that, despite a few moments of beyond-friendly affection, she was likely in these feelings alone. 

She wasn’t going to let this send her into another spiral. She would keep doing what she had been doing: loving Sebastian, loving Milena. Hoping and praying that this piece of life was meant for longer than a season. 

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @jackryanplz​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​ @connie326​

IYJR: @elsatxx​ @tanelle83​ @amanda-teaches​ @etherealwaifgoddess​ @kmuir1​ @ntlmundy​ @jayankles​ @rebekahdawkins​ @denise1605​ @rhadigen​ @peace-love-hobbitness​ @itsallyscorner​ @mizzzpink​ @auspiciousharriet​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @learisa​ @tellmewhatyouwill​ @katherinereid​ @lokilokilokilokilokiloki​ @auriandthepussicats​ @tellmewhatyouwill​ @itsmycorneroftheinternet​

[vangoghmusings]

𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘

pairing: demon!tendou satori x fem!reader 

rating: 18+ 

word count: 4.1k 

warnings: child abuse, religious trauma, mentions of blood, seizure, religious taboo, degradation, public sex (?), oral (receiving), fingering, unprotected intercourse 

a/n: ahh here’s the first one shot of my 1k halloween event!! this story is VERY NSFW so please do not read if you are a minor. this also have mentions of child abuse and religious trauma and is VERY taboo. each story is partically inspired by a song, this one is “under your skin” by jukebox the ghost, which i have linked below. otherwise, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it!! 

https://open.spotify.com/track/5oiZiF3fBLHqgTDaH0Pj7M?si=RBkk9ddxS7OMO_ZDhT85Dw

✁ ✂ ✃ 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖐𝖎𝖓 ✁ ✂ ✃ 

Growing up in a small town had its pros and cons. The cons were plentiful. Limited things to do, small minded people, and the conservative mindset of the looming church steeple that shadowed over the town. The pro, however, was Tendou Satori.  

You had met Satori when you moved to this godforsaken small town at the age of 8. Your parents moved there for work but insisted on sending you to a private school to ensure a “morally correct” upbringing. It was an ancient Christian school made of brown brick stacked up like a castle. Inside you would meet the son of the pastor, Satori himself. You were the same age, but he looked younger, paler and more shriveled, with cuts and bruises adorning his legs, some covered up by his uniform knee socks. It was common knowledge that Pastor Tendou beat his son, but it was his right after all, it always appeared to him that his son acted out with the persuasion of the devil. You feared your new surroundings and Satori feared the home he lived in. You had found solace in each other quickly.  

As you grew older and closer, some things never changed. Satori often came to you crying, a new injury on his skin from his father present and so you spent the night nursing him back to health. Other weekends were spent helping him clean the tombstones of the graveyard behind the church. Once you two would finish scrubbing the moss and dirt from the stones, you’d have a picnic in the cemetery. It was oddly peaceful, laying upon the ground with each other laughing and ignoring the corpses beneath you. Picnics in the graveyard were calm, but not when your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. Satori had a habit placing his head on your lap as he ate whatever was in the basket for that day. He’d look up at you with wide eyes, passionately talking about whatever was plaguing his mind that day. It was normal for his face to be bruised or cut. And you often kissed them after treating them, but when he looking up at you with such a bright smile, squinting at the sun above just enough for the cuts to break and bleed once again, you wanted to kiss them again, but differently. It felt different, you were different.  

This had to be a sin.  

It felt like you were being eaten alive by the thoughts that ran amok in your head. Satori was this beautifully pained angel with no escape from the constant terror that was his father. Pastor or not, he believed that Satori was filled with hellish intentions of the devil himself. And what father could be proud of a son who was the devil incarnate? Yet here you were, falling slowly, madly, deeply in love with your best friend. While his sole mission was to survive until graduation, yours had become to be able to kiss more than just his cuts and bruises.  

This was definitely a sin.  

You were halfway through your senior year when it happened. When you lost Satori. Every Thursday, the school held liturgy. You and Satori were the altar servers alongside Pastor Tendou. It was surprising how quickly you two could form such serious faces the moment you put on the white garments. You sat in the cushioned chairs beside Satori as his father gave a sermon. Tendou listened attentively, taking in any clue to take as an advantage to possibly get his father to love him. To prove he wasn’t a mistake or a demon.  

“Now a days... the devil presents himself in many ways. From that damned technology to that blasted music...”  

Pastor Tendou was known for hateful sermons. Yet, in such a small town as this, it was normal. He was so adamant about the devil in our everyday lives that felt that there was more hatred and death than the possibility of mercy.  

“And the devil is within us too! We must be willing to cut off his clawed hands from us, and crush his soulless entity that hovers within-”  

A throat ripping gasp cut off Pastor Tendou as his son lurched from his chair and collapsed onto the floor. You jumped back in your chair, watching as his back arched so high it didn’t seem physically possibly; a blood curdling scream filling the church coming from him. The church froze, watching in fear as the pastor’s son began to convulse. You watched in horror as his body slammed back onto the floor and he began to shake viciously. Frothing at the mouth, his eyes rolled back, and it look like his veins were about to rip through his flesh. You looked to Pastor Tendou for any sign of instruction of what to do. He was dying, you were watching him die.  

Before you could shout for help, Pastor Tendou took the glass of Holy Water that was stashed in the tabernacle and poured it on Satori. The water caused his skin to sear, smoke rising from his skin like he was burning alive. More screams fell from his lips, his face only readable as pure pain. You looked away as tears streamed down your own face at seeing him in such agony.  

Pastor Tendou looked down at him with narrowed eyes as his son soon stopped shaking. And then his body went utterly limp, his chest no longer rising and falling with breath. You wanted to scream, he was dead, he had to be dead. You were about to reach out for his body when his eyes shot wide open. He gasped and sat up right, looking around frantically around the church and down at his hands. His face broke into a smile as he looked at his father.  

“H-he left! I’m free!”  

Satori jumped up, hugging his father tightly as they both rejoiced that the devil had finally left him. It was true, that after years of never-ending abuse Satori believed that he indeed had a devil inside of him.  

Pastor Tendou cupped his son’s face and kissed his head in pure joy. He let go and turned to his laypeople who watched from the pews in shock.  

“REJOICE! MY SON HAS CRUSHED THE CLAWED HANDS OF SATAN!”  

The people stood up and cheered, shouting amens and hallelujahs, kneeling and bowing. Satori had finally been saved. You couldn’t believe your eyes. This fake demon that was beaten into belief had suddenly up and left? And Satori needed to go to a hospital, he just had a seizure after all.  

“Sato, we should get you to a hospital-”  

He turned to you, swiftly taking your hands in his. It appeared that all of the cuts on his knuckles had magically disappeared. Before you could process the thought, he kissed your hands and smiled at you.  

“God has saved me Y/N. I don’t need a hospital.”  

You gaped at him. You knew Satori was religious because there was no escape from it in his life, but he never made outright claims about it in front of you. And now he spoke as if he was indeed possessed and was exercised.  

Mass eventually ended. When Satori’s mother had gotten the news, she also leapt for joy, however, with the thought of her son having a seizure ingrained in her mind, she insisted that he go to a hospital. Once you got the okay to visit him, you took your parents car and sped over. You were frantic, worried beyond belief of what could be wrong with Satori, enough for him to proclaim freedom from a demon.  

You walked into the hospital room. It had only been a day since the incident, but the room was filled to the brim with bouquets. The whole town had come to learn of Satori’s freedom. You looked at the red-haired boy sleeping soundly on the hospital bed. It was odd. HIs skin was free of his previous bruises and cuts. He was free, but maybe of physical pain, not a demon.  

You sighed and moved a vase of flowers from the chair beside his bed and onto the floor, taking a seat and reaching for his hand.  

“Sato,” you hummed, hoping to gently wake him up. He didn’t.  

You frowned and took in his features. He looked peaceful but, paler than usual. He had always been pale, but now he simply looked sickly. The veins in his face were apparent, he looked almost translucent. Almost as if, if you tried to look hard enough, you would see the blood moving in veins. Before you could reach out to touch his cheek, his eyes fluttered open, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you.  

“Y/N,” He said softly. His eyes were bright, happy to see you. Yet, his brown eyes almost had a red gleam.  

“Sato!” You beamed, standing up to hug him tightly. He hummed in your embrace and held you. You sighed lightly, just glad that he was okay. “You really scared me.”  

He let go and gave you a frown.  

“I didn’t intend to. I’m sorry.”  

“It's okay,” you mumbled, ruffling his hair. He chuckled softly and leaned into your touch. Was his voice deeper too?  

“It seems that you’ve gotten quite popular Sato,” you said referencing to the room filled with flowers. He grinned and looked up at you.  

“I guess people like you more when you’ve seen God.”  

You froze and pulled your hand out of his hair.  

“What?”  

He nodded and looked at you blankly. He was very serious.  

“Yes. I saw him. He-” Tendou paused, carefully deciding his words, “he’s inside of me.”  

“God...God is inside of you?”  

“Yes.”  

You scoffed and stood up.  

“Sato you sound insane.”  

He glared at you.  

“Don’t speak to me like that.”  

You looked at him incredulously. He was so stern, brows furrowed with anger.  

“I-”  

“Listen to me,” He said getting up from the hospital bed. He stepped towards you, placing a firm grip on your neck with his cold hand thin hand, trapping you between the wall and his grip. You gasped; your face filled with shock. You watched as a smirk spread across his face, as he pressed his nails into your neck. You whimpered in pain, they were sharp, pointed almost.  

“Y/N... God is in me, and I am God.”  

You froze, watching as his eyes were undeniably crimson now.  

“T-this isn’t you Sato-”  

“Shut up,” He snarled.  

You were right, he was paler. You could indeed see the veins in his flesh pulsing, but they were not red. They were a deep inky black.  

You winced as he dug his nails further into your neck, tears prickling your eyes. Under the dim yellow lights of the hospital room, you had shrunken, like trapped mouse beneath the claw of a lion. Satori saw your tears and quickly let go.  

“I-I’m so sorry Y/N...I didn’t mean to!” He cried, falling to his knees and clinging to your thigh. He sobbed into your leg and shook hard. You blinked, looking down at your best friend who had just choked you against a wall and was now sobbing against you.  

“Sato get up, please...” You mumbled, afraid of what his next action would be. This was so unlike him. He was usually so bright and goofy and now he looked like something was eating him from the inside out.  

He looked up at you with tear stained cheeks, trembling. You sighed and helped bring him to his feet.  

“Get dressed, I brought you clothes, and I have a basket with food in the car.”  

He gave a weak smile.  

“Picnic?”  

“Yeah,” you nodded. You pulled the clothes from his bag, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel from the many times he had stayed over at your house after his father beat the pulp out of him. You set them on the bed and turned to leave. A firm grip on your arm stopped you from walking out.  

“Don’t leave me,” He whispered. His voice sounded fearful and broken, like the many times he cried as you cleaned his cuts.  

You bit your lip, unsure of what to do.  He wanted you to stay as he changed out of his clothes. That had to be a sin. Didn’t he know that? Didn’t he know that you were burning with desire for him? It was all too much. You pulled your arm from you grip.  

“I’ll just be in the hall Sato,” you said with a weak smile. His face fell and he nodded as you turned back to walk out the door.  

You waited patiently in the hall, your feet tapping as you tried to collect your thoughts. In the past 24 hours, Satori had apparently had a seizure, claimed to be freed from a demon, now claimed to be God, and physically hurt you. It didn’t make any sense.  

You turned your head at the sound of the door opening to see Satori, relishing in the warmth of the flannel around him.  

“Picnic?” He asked with excitement.  

You chuckled and nodded, walking out to your car with him.  

You eventually arrived at the cemetery, your usual spot you both had found comfort in. Any stranger would call them crazy, eating among the dead. But to them, this was pure peace. They were among those who were at rest, simply waiting for their own time. You pulled into your usual parking spot, the 6th on in from the right. You grabbed the basket and walked alongside Satori to the spot in the cemetery that was open lush grass. The day was gray, but it was rare that the sun came out in your town. The spot was surrounded by 6 statues of crying Virgins. It was eerie, but to you it was a simple normality of your graveyard picnics.  

Satori helped lay the blanket as you set down the picnic basket. Today you brought sandwiches and cut fruit. He gave you a bright smile and followed your cue to sit down on the blanket and get comfortable. You handed him a sandwich and he thanked you, taking a large bite. You froze, looking at his teeth and how they gnashed through the bread. They were sharp, pointed like an animal. You swallowed your bite and wiped your mouth. You had known Satori since you were 8 years old, had you truly never noticed his red eyes, sharp nails and pointed teeth? HIs paleness and inky black veins? His sudden strength and rage?  

“How many people do you think could fit under your skin?”  

You blinked, being brought out of your daze by your friend’s sudden question.  

“What-”  

“I think I could fit at least two people under my skin. Physically. However, emotionally, plenty of people get under my skin realistically.”  

“Sato...what are you talking about?”  

It was sudden and unexpected, the way he jumped on top of you. He knocked the wind out of you with how forceful the impact was of your back slamming against the ground. You coughed and looked at him in terror. This was not the meek and gentle Satori you had grown up with and this surely wasn’t God either.  

Satori pinned your wrists to the ground and used his own legs to keep yours down. You didn’t bother struggling, he was too strong. And the sinful part of your mind had envisioned this position one too many times for you to fight back.  

“I said, how many people do you think you could fit under your skin?”  

“I-I don’t know,” You whimpered in fear. This fear felt wrong though, this fear caused your legs to try and pinch together. Sinful.  

“You’re pitiful,” Satori growled, his eyes gleaming a deep red. The frown quickly turned into a smirk as he watched you begin to squirm under his weight. “Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?”  

“N-No, Sato-”  

He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips.  

“Are you sure? Cause you’re a terrible liar.”  

You froze, fear crippling you in your spot. Satori’s smirk stayed in its spot as he let go of one of your wrists, only to grab a firm grip of your thigh. You yelped and looked at him with wide eyes.  

“You’re a sinner Y/N. That’s why we need to cleanse your soul.”  

“Cleanse my soul?”  

Satori nodded; clear he was being completely serious.  

“Oh,” you mumbled, unsure what ‘cleansing your soul’ would entail. He gave you a gently smile and let go of your thigh to softly stroke your cheek.  

“I can save you.”  

He smiled brightly, it looked like it was supposed to be caring but, with how he had pinned your body to the ground, you couldn’t be sure. But apparently you did, since the next words that came out of your mouth were,  

“Save me.”  

The way Satori handled you would lead you to believe that he had done this a billion times. You knew he hadn’t, he couldn’t have.  

“You need to show yourself to God in your purest form.”  

You shivered as his cold fingertips touched your skin as he helped undress you, the weeping Virgins were the only ones watching your nervous form besides Satori himself. Besides God himself.  

Shortly after he undressed you, He took his own clothes off, his translucent skin and inky black veins more prominent in the grey sunlight. You had never seen him so exposed, and the same went for you. You curled up shyly, remembering that you sat naked in front of him.  

“Stop,” He said gently, placing a cold hand on your knee, pulling your limbs away from hiding your body. “You’re perfect,” He breathed out softly. You felt heat rush through your body at his comment. “Such a perfect vessel,” He mumbled, continuing to eye you up and down.  

“V-vessel?” You prompted, only to be cut off by the sensation of Satori sucking down and kissing your neck. You gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders as he towered over you, nipping at your skin and sucking harshly. You cried out softly, embarrassed at the wetness pooling in between your legs. You were brought out of your distraction when you felt Satori’s sharp teeth dig into the flesh of your neck. You whimpered and tried to pull away, the new sensation too much to bare. He pulled away to look at you, his lips swollen from kissing your neck and his eyes looked like ruby’s, mesmerizing gems.

“Sato,” you whispered. He looked ravenous and wild. HIs cheekbones looked sharper, the blank veins pulsing rapidly under his skin. He grinned madly, and now you were certain. You had lost Satori. The monster in front of you was a demon. You had fallen in love with demon.  

“Hush,” He purred, placing a icy finger against your lips to silence you.  

You stared, horrified at his next move, what this demon would do to you, with such heavy lust overtaking your vision. You really were a sinner. With unexpected force, he pushed you back down against the ground, the fluff of the blanket cushioning your fall. With iron-clad strength, he opened your legs and buried his head between them. You gasped, Satori’s mouth instantly latching around your clit without warning. You shook under him and he reached up and grabbed your throat, gripping it tightly to quiet you. You whimpered, unable to handle the strength he was sucking at. Your breath hitched feeling his cold finger slide inside you, curling rapidly. It was too much too fast, your vision blurring as you felt tightness coil in your tummy.  

“S-Sato, please; it's too much!”  

You cried, fearing the heat bubbling up in your core. You felt Satori roll his eyes against you as his tongue darted inside of you, sucking and leeching your folds as he slipped a second finger inside. You’d never felt like this, flush and needy and desperate for his touch. He let go of your neck and your arms launched forward, pulling at his hair and attempting to get some form of leverage as you bucked your hips against this mouth. You were so close-  

“Pathetic,” He growled sitting up, his pale face covered in your slick. It was lewd and sinful and quite possibly the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. “You were going to cum just from my mouth? You’re too easy.”  

You frowned, embarrassed that he was right. He chuckled and gently placed a kiss on your lips. You blinked.  

There it was the moment you had been longing for for so long. He had finally kissed you. It took a demonic possession but at last, he finally kissed you. It was just a peck, so he began to pull away. You wouldn’t let that be, you couldn’t. No no no, your mind screamed as you grabbed his face and pulled him back to you. You kissed him hard, every lingering touch filled with needy. You gasped softly when he bit your bottom lip, he pointed teeth puncturing gently. You pulled away, completely aware of what you were going to ask and to what you were asking. There was no longer who inside of Satori’s body, but a what, a demon.  

“Sato, I-I know I’m a sinner and I know this is wrong, but,” You sat on your knees, begging him, taking his icy hand and placing it on your bare chest. “If you can save me, do it now.”  

Satori’s red eye’s sparkled, clearly hearing words he liked.  

“What a beautiful perfect little sinner you are.”  

You sat on your knees, continuously begging for him to do more than just look down on you, until pushed you back, knocking you down onto your back. It seemed this domineering position was his favorite. You watched with wide eyes as Satori positioned his length at your entrance.  

“Beg for my cock.”  

“W-What? Sato that’s so vulgar-”  

“I SAID BEG,” He growled threateningly, there was no softness in his voice, just utter lust and malice.  

“P-please, Satori, I need your cock! Please, I need it so bad-” You cried out when he forcefully shoved his entire length inside of you.  

Your head fell back, your vision blurring from the tears of pain and pleasure. Moans fell from your lips at the sins that were happening before you. Not only were you fucking the pastor’s son, you were fucking the pastor’s son who was possessed by a demon in a graveyard. You blinked several times, the tears rolling down your cheeks as you were able to focus your vision. Staring back down at you, was one of the weeping Virgin statues, crying just as you were.  

You were brought back to focus on Satori when he thrusted harshly into you, hitting your cervix. You groaned, the pleasure becoming too much to handle, the heat bubbling up inside of you once more. Satori grunted with every violent thrust, growling and sounding absolutely animalistic, your legs now sitting on his shoulders to go deeper into you. The moans bounced and echoed against the tombstones in the yard the Virgins watched the scene in front of them.  

“I’m close Sato,” You whimpered, digging your nails into his back, scratching hard as to cling onto him. He moaned, and you knew you were drawing blood. You pulled your hands away, only to see that it wasn’t blood, but the same black ink that ran through his veins. You gasped, unable to deny now that Satori was a demon. You cried out, an unexpected thrust hitting your g-spot directly.  

“Praise your God and I’ll let you cum,” Satori hissed, his pupils slitted like a snake.  

You had realized now that you are Eve. Bewitched by the serpent, Satan, in the garden by the fruit.  

“P-Please o-oh God! I want to cum, please!” You wailed, begging for him to fill you with the same ink that now adorned your fingers.  

“What a good little sinner,” He purred, quickening his pace and bottoming out in you. You arched your back, crying out as you unraveled underneath him. He growled lowly in your ear as he came inside of you with you. He slowed his pace, letting you both ride out your highs. You panted, looking up at him, as the pulsing veins that trailed his cheekbones faded back into his flesh.  

“Sato...” You attempted to catch your breath as you weakly sat up. “I-I love you,” you blurted, praying that somewhere inside, the true Satori could hear you under the weight of the demon that consumed him.  

“I know,” He smiled softly and cupped your chin in his hand and pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “And now I own you.”  

taglist: @mixfi​ @melanimed​ @batwrangler​ @kac-chowsballs (taglist for event is still open)

[softlilacmoonlight]

Everybody x Reader - Part Two (Angst Warning)

In group chat (with everybody)

(Y/N): Hey guys!

Everybody: (Commence mass and swift greetings.)

Beel Baby: How are you doing in the human world!?

Luci: I truly hope that you have readjusted well.

Asmo: We miss you! SO! VERY! MUCH!

In private chat with Lord Diavolo

(Y/N): Can I ask you a gigantic favor?

Diavolo: Anything! What do you need?

(Y/N): Can I come back to the Devildom permanently? I know it's a big favor to ask, and I know that it will cause issues with my safety. It's just... I'm all alone here in the human world. I promise I can work! I can continue schooling! I'll do anything!

Diavolo: (Y/N)... of course you can come back! We've all missed you terribly! When can we summon you?!

(Y/N): Gimme an hour! I can pack a quick bag to go and grab the rest later! Could I re-move into the House of Lamentations by any chance?

Diavolo: Of course! Also, from now on it's just Diavolo. When you get here, I need to speak with you for a moment.

(Y/N): Okay! Thank you so much, Dia!

Cue Diavolo processing nickname, and subsequently blacking out for a couple of minutes. Poor demon prince's pounding heart.

(Y/N) pov:

While Lord Diavolo summons everybody to RAD, I quickly pack a go-bag, grab the essentials, and make sure that everything is in order in my apartment. Rushing, I quickly check that the door is locked tight. Lastly, I sit on the couch and patiently wait for Dia to come and get me.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass sounds from my bedroom. Before I can even register what happened, a pair of hands force me back onto the couch. They cover and muffle anything coming from my mouth, while the attacker uses his body to force me against the couch making me immobile. No matter how hard I try, I cannot get myself free.

He takes out a cloth from his pocket, and I can't help but panic further. My assailant covers my mouth and nose with the cloth. In a matter of seconds, my brain feels fuzzy and my eyes close. Shutting me in a world of black.

~ With everybody ~

(The angels and Solomon joined them since Lord Diavolo summoned them all)

Third Person pov:

"Lord Diavolo, what is the meaning of this?" questions Lucifer.

To set the mood, Lord Diavolo is bouncing around like a giddy child that just got an early Christmas gift. Everybody is looking at him like he either a) lost his marbles or b) is the funniest thing on the face of the planet. Barbatos and Lucifer are barely containing their displeasure (except Barbatos is a master of hiding it), while Mammon and Levi are trying their hardest not to laugh. Satan and Belphie just watch in pure amusement... no Satan isn't taking a video. What do you mean? As for Beel, Asmo, and the other exchange students, they couldn't care less. They mainly just find it slightly entertaining.

"Lucifer!" exclaims Lord Diavolo in excitement. "I have wonderful news! You guys will never believe it!"

"Then spit it out already. I want to sleep," says Belphie with a heavy groan.

After getting Lord Diavolo to settle down, they re-ask him the question. "(Y/N)! It's about (Y/N)!"

"WHATD'YA MEAN! IS MY HUMAN IN TROUBLE OR SOMETHIN'!" half screams Mammon.

For once, in a blue moon, Asmo goes over to calm down Mammon. You can tell that Mammon is genuinely terrified that something happened. After all, this poor tsundere clings to you like the greedy demon he is. For now, Asmo set aside the normal quips and barbs, trying to take care of his brother. He knows that you'd want him to do so.

Lord Diavolo lets out a grand laugh. "No! She asked to come and stay permanently in the Devildom! I, of course, said yes! She asked to reinhabit her old room at the House of Lamentations permanently! Hence why I called the other exchange students to ask if they wished to rejoin the program or if they simply wanted to visit from time to time."

"SHE'S COMING BACK!" practically everybody screamed.

Mammon's eyes widen in excitement. "I'll have to take care of her again! N-Not that I-I w-want to. YA HEAR!"

"My snacking buddy will be back!" Beel's face looks like a happy little puppy.

Belphie lets out a tired smile. "Snuggles..."

"HUSH! We won't overwhelm her when she first gets here. We'll make her dinner and talk the night away. We still have school tomorrow, after all." responds Lucifer with a cool glint in his eye. Only people who truly knew him saw the fires of excitement in his orbs.

"Don't act like you aren't all excited either Lucifer." jabs Satan.

"Nonsense. The school will be getting a week off for 'important royal business'." states Lord Diavolo in all certainty.

Abruptly, Luke walks over to Lord Diavolo and gently tugs his pant leg, face bright red from having to do so so that the demon prince will recognize that he's there. Lord Diavolo kneels down, which obviously causes Luke's blush to intensify. He glances to Simeon, who gives him a smile and a nod of his head, before continuing.

"Simeon and I have decided that we would l-like to r-rejoin the program." stutters out Luke.

Lord Diavolo shines a gentle smile, all the while Simeon works to cover up his chuckles. "Of course Luke. How about I set up scheduled baking lessons for you and Barbatos?"

"REALLY! I-I mean sure, n-not that I w-want to..." stutters the flushed little angel.

"I am very pleased that I will get to bake with you once more Luke," states Barbatos gently to the flustered angel. Luke just responds with a small smile.

For the first time in this whole conversation, Levi pipes up. "When is (Y/N) coming?"

"Any minute now. I set the portal to grab her an hour after our conversation." he pauses and glances at his DDD. "And... now."

Everybody looks all over the room, eyes wide in excitement. All of their faces holding loving eyes and kind smiles. They just wait. They all know that strong spells like this take a while to be fully completed and properly completed.

Nevertheless, five minutes pass by. Then ten minutes pass, and then fifteen. By the time the twenty-minute mark passes, everybody is officially worried. They can't think of what could have possibly gone wrong.

"Are you sure you set up the time for an hour?" inquires Barbatos to the concerned lord.

Lord Diavolo just shakes his head. "I'm quite certain. I know for a fact we did since we sent texts, and both of us did agree on an hour's time. Here, I'll just try texting her. Who knows? Maybe she just lost track of time. She had to be on her couch when it activated."

In private chat with Lord Diavolo

Diavolo: (Y/N), did something happen? Did you have to leave the couch? Could you please answer? We're all terribly worried.

(Y/N): (Y/N)'s not here anymore. If you ever wish to see her again, then you better follow my orders.

Diavolo: What have you done to her?

(Y/N) Intruder: Nothing yet, but if you wish to get her returned to you, then you better come and follow the clues. Otherwise, I'll kill her. You have one hour to start the puzzle. I'd wish you luck, but quite frankly I don't want you to win.

Third-person pov:

That was the day that the whole Devildom trembled in terror. That was the first time they truly saw the fury of their future king and the full outrage of his closest companions. That was the day that made it clear to everybody. Touch the demon prince's, his butler's, and the seven deadly sins' closest loved one... you will suffer a fate worse than death. The other exchange students agreed with their... passion.

"Time."

"To."

"Save."

"(Y/N)."

And they all went together, as one joined force. The kidnapper will regret this, they swear that on their lives.

[hazbbyhaz]

sleepless || harry styles

eleven

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: the cycle continues

disclaimer: slander of ones self, mention of pills

No word of mine will ever hurt you

Avery didn't talk to Harry for the rest of the week. He didn't contact her and she wasn't brave enough to reach out to him. Her mind immediately thought that he'd gotten bored of her. If she was honest with herself, she knew that this would happen eventually. She's just glad it happened before she grew more attached to the boy.

She already found herself being attached to him a small bit. It was easy for her. As a child, she would cling to anyone who showed her the slightest bit of love and affection, all just to be disappointed again. She had tried to be more distant with people, less open, but that plan didn't go too well. As if her mind wanted her to be hurt over and over again and accepted this as her life. Just because it was familiar didn't mean it hurt less.

Avery worked every day this week at the cafe. Tom was still worried about finances, he had told her not to worry about it, so she tried her best not to. He was on the search for a new employee and had asked her if she had any friends that were in need of a job, She had told him that she would ask around, leaving out the fact that she had no one to ask.

She imagines asking Harry as a joke but decides against it soon after. Not wanting to reach out to him in case he didn't want to hear from her. On Wednesday night, she found herself standing outside of Sam's front door. Her tiny fist raised, ready to knock, but her heartbeat had suddenly gone so loud she ran back to her apartment.

She had gotten used to having Harry around. Even if he hadn't been around long, this was the first time that she had someone to talk to. That night just felt so different with no one around. Even Sam would have been enough to satisfy her need for human contact, but that didn't end up working out. Normally, being alone never bothered her, but lately, her heart ached for the company.

Today was Sunday, making it day four with no sleep, with the exception of a few hour long naps here and there. The world record for the longest consecutive hours of no sleep was 264, just over eleven days. Though she was nowhere even close to that, she was beyond tired. Her whole begging constantly begging for rest, but her mind kept on racing and racing. She knew that closing her eyes meant eight hours of terror, eight hours of being a child again, eight hours of being back at that godforsaken house.

After eight cups of coffee, her body started to shake. “You're pathetic.” She told the girl in the mirror. “Look at you.”

So, she left her flat at 8 pm. Wandering through the streets of London, the cool air calming her down enough to think straight. She watched all the groups of people pass her. Friends and couples having the time of their lives. It brought a small smile to her face.

As the night grew, it only got colder. She made her way back home at around 10 pm. “Tomorrow you have work, Avery. You'll have something to do, get your mind off of things.” She always enjoyed working at the cafe. It wasn't as successful as Tom had hoped when he originally opened his doors, but they had people come there every day. Somewhere regulars and some only stopped by every once and awhile.

On the steps of her apartment building sat Harry. His hair was a mess, strewn about messily. He adorned a pair of black jeans and a dark green hoodie.

“What are you doing here?” He didn't say anything at first, thinking about how he wanted to respond. “What happened to you?”

“I was out walking and thought I'd drop by.” He said with a shrug. “Can I come in?”

She unlocked the door, letting him inside without another word. He looks around her flat like he did the first time he had been there. Letting everything sink in. Avery lets her jacket fall to the floor and turns on the kettle, grabbing two peppermint tea bags out of the cabinet.

“When was the last time you slept?” Harry breaks the silence. He was sitting in front of the piano, hands dancing across the keys without letting the weight of his fingers push down on them.

“Why does that matter?’’

“You don't look good…” His eyes were fixed on her every move. “You look tired, and a bit sick.”

“Wow, thanks, Harry. You really know how to compliment a girl.”

“Ave…’’ He sighs, turning his attention back to the piano. After the water started boiling, Avery placed two tea bags into their cups and poured the hot water over top. She made her way to the living room, setting Harry's cup on top of the piano.

“Why won’t you let yourself rest?”

She takes a deep breath and a sip of her tea before leaning her head back, staring up at the ceiling. “I get really bad nightmares.”

“That's why you won’t go to sleep?”

“They scare me. A lot.” She whispers with closed eyes. Harry was right. Avery looked sick and exhausted. Of course, there were weeks that things were better. She got more sleep at night with the occasional afternoon nap, but things hadn't been like that for months now. She didn't know if it was the weather, or the cold season, or maybe even the crying child she had seen on her way home a couple of weeks back, but she knew that things were only getting worse.

“How about I stay here and you sleep? So when you have a nightmare, I can wake you.” Harry suggests. She feels the sofa dip beside her, signaling he had sat down next to her.

“You don't want to be here when I have a nightmare.”

“I really don't care, Ave. Come on. You need to get some sleep, otherwise, you are gonna drop dead somewhere.”

It was hard for her to open her eyes, it took way more energy than it should have. When she did, Harry's eyes were fixed on her. His eyes were so soft, so full of sympathy and utter kindness, that she found herself agreeing.

“Okay… but wait here a second.” She sped off to the bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet, she found the bottle of valerian pills, taking three of them before going back to the living room. She knew that she wouldn't be falling asleep without them.

“Don’t wake me if I have a nightmare, okay?”

Harry looked at her with total confusion. “What? Why?”

“Just... please don’t wake me. you have to promise me.”

He seemed unsure for a second, contemplating his decisions, he soon nodded. “Okay, I promise.”

Avery went to her bedroom and closed the door, the valerian slowly taking effect. And as she closed her eyes and her mind finally quieted, she heard the sounds of a piano being played softly in the background.

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@magicalmongerherringfan @serenametanoia

[expert-de-couteau]

About Kali - For Mobile Users

Kali’s Bio: Name: Kali Kamara (formerly Amber Johnson)

Age:25 Gender: female Appearance: Kali is 5’6”. She has bright red hair that falls just above her shoulders. Her eyes are naturally brown, but she typically wears contacts with grey and blue tones when out and about in public. Due to the fact that she spends a lot of time indoors working on projects, experiments, or running her knife shop, she has very pale, fair skin. Personality: Kali had a lot to overcome early in life. In her teen years, she could easily fall under the outcast trope–antisocial, quiet, and a little strange. She has branched out since to reveal a more quirky, fun loving side. She will typically be polite and calm, but if you get on her bad side, you will know.

Backstory: Amber Johnson– otherwise known as Kali Kamara (the name given to her at the institution),was orphaned at the age of 7. Her parents were… really? Ordinary. She had a decent childhood up until a fire killed both parents in their sleep while she was away at a sleepover. In one single night, the girl had gone from a perfect household full of laughs and good times, to another situation entirely.

She spent a year going from one home to the next– and eventually landed herself in a terrible situation with two horrid foster parents who only thought of her as a paycheck and would often lock her away to try and forget they even had a foster child during parties, holidays, and other family events.

At the age of 8, this girl knew only one thing that made people go away forever– while her foster parents slept, Kali started a fire. She went outside to wait for them to be gone, and was approached by someone who would end up setting the course for the rest of her life– the owners of the orphanage where she would spend the rest of her child and teen years.

These two people– they seemed wonderful at first. They took her in, made her happy, and gave her a new name to signify a new beginning… Kali Kamara. After the fire where her foster parents died, this couple was able to persuade authorities that the girl was not to blame and gave the best sob story they could to get the system to let them take her in. What Kali did not know, was that it was her actions against her foster family that had caught their attention. You see, this orphanage they owned was created for one terrifying purpose… to train an army of ultimate assassins they could then sell to terror groups across the globe to the highest bidder.

It was only when all legalities had been completed that she saw her new “family’s” true colors. They put her and others through classes to eliminate morality, training sessions to hone killer instincts, and even human experimentation to heighten the senses, increase strength, and more. Kali endured this hell for years before she finally created a plan to make history repeat itself. She would make this new family and all who were a part of it disappear.

She could have simply escaped and called the cops… but who would they believe? The upstanding citizens who owned an orphanage on their own dime? Or the demented little girl who was still suspected of killing her own foster family? Besides, she wanted to see everyone in this place suffer for the wrongs they did to her. What would be the fun in just silently escaping away into the night?~

——

What is Kali doing now?

As Kali was not the only one to escape the explosion of her orphanage home, police had no reason to think she had anything to do with the whole thing. She had cherry picked (most of) the survivors, but throughout the course of the years she slowly hunted them all down like prey until she was the only one left.

The young woman tried to make an honest living. She tried several occupations, but they were severely boring and she found herself an outcast among coworkers and management due to her “disturbing” hobbies like writing hypothetical scenes about their deaths or scaring them intentionally trying to play a joke on them. Eventually, her quirky habits lessened a bit, but she still felt something in life was missing.

Of course, what Kali needed was therapy and medication– but she ended up finding her thrill in becoming a hired gun. It paid the bills and satisfied her need for adrenaline. Kali began to create creative ways to kill and never once got caught in the act. Even in times when knives had been traced back to her own shop, she easily framed someone else for her actions.

Kali sells knives both in her shop as well as out on the road as a traveling saleswoman. This created the perfect reason for her to be out and about anywhere– and to take assignments for her true career anywhere. Kali isn’t entirely without conscience– she knows that people should not kill each other. Frankly? She just doesn’t care anymore. To her, the hunt is fun and makes her easy money.