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aehyei · 2 years

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𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨

So, the school’s most famous heartthrob killed himself and now everyone in school is depressed Jaemin’s gone—well, that’s what you thought until Na himself asked for your help to bring justice to his actually murdered death.

PAIRING : ghost!na jaemin x reader

GENRE : !angst, !high school!au, !fluff if you squint a bit, !crack, !strangers to lovers!au, !hurt/comfort, slight !enemies to lovers!au

WC : 3.86k

WARNINGS : cuss words, mentions of death, violence, mentions of mental illness, aggressive attitude, jeno’s kinda yandere here, mentions of obsession, our boy jaem being a playboy, playing of feelings, mentions of su1c1d3, murder, has a booger scene (lmao don’t ask), kiss scene near by the end

PLAYLIST : (When I Saw You • BUMKEY), (Love is a Compass • Griff), (As I Am • Justin Bieber and Khalid), (Beautiful • Crush), (One Day • Monsta X), (Emily • Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler)

TAG LIST : @nikisimpsharon, @ishokenmei, @kristyxoxo, @forhaever, @kingjeno423, @furryllamas

AUTHOR’S NOTES : Originally, this story is entitled My Youth, but I changed it to Ghost Of You instead. The part two was deleted! I rewritten the story into something more (better) and ended the story in this oneshot. So with that said, yes, I did change and added a lot of scenes, so check it out. Have fun reading!

SILENCE.

that was all.

The whole class was devastated to hear their heartthrob, Na Jaemin, commited suicide. No one saw it coming. He was such a bubbly person and he didn’t seem like the type to hurt himself just like that. Although everyone was mourning over his sudden death, you just remained being okay.

It wasn’t like you were close to him anyways. Sure, a few ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ were exchanged, but that was all. To you, he was more of a stranger rather then a friend or an acquaintance. So why the hell would you waste your time crying over some stranger? All you could do was awkwardly comfort the people around you.

“He must be murdered. He can’t do this Y/n! Jaemin’s a mere pussy, so how the fuck did he get the sudden confidence to get a knife and slit his throat?!” Jeno asked with tears flowing down his cheeks. He wiped them hastily and sniffled.

You sighed, “Jeno, I don’t know how to answer your question. I mean, I barely know the guy. Anyways, as your partner in lab, I think Na wouldn’t want you crying and overthinking about him too much.”

“Your one cold motherfucking woman, Y/n.”

“I just said I don’t know the guy!”

One more time someone calls you cold for not crying over the infamous Na Jaemin’s body, then you’ll gladly kill yourself next.

You bitterly grumbled to yourself while walking home. The professors and the students of Neo High really had the audacity to judge you and glare at you for not caring for the playboy’s death. Well, in the first place, he’s not your friend or anyone close to you for you to waste tears. Although, your not happy about his suicide either.

Even if Na Jaemin may be a heartless jerk, toying with every girl he laid his eyes on, he didn’t deserve what happened to him. No one did.

“Damn, what a fine girl.”

Immediately, you shot you head up and looked around to find whoever just cat-called. Goosebumps rose up from your skin as you fasten your pace of walking. “Ok, that’s just an old drunk ugly man. Ignore him Y/n, just ignore him and everything’s going to be fine.” You tried to assure yourself, the grip you have on your bag’s strips tightening.

“Girlie, rest assured that I’m not drunk, definitely not ugly nor old.” A young man who was wearing a simple white shirt with some grey joggers appeared before you.

Good news is, he surely was handsome, young, and sober.

Bad news was he’s the dead Na Jaemin.

“Shit! Fuck! Motherfucker—”

“Excuse me, my mother is not a fucker you rude hot woman.”

“—Don’t haunt me just because I didn’t care you died! Leave me alone, I’m allergic to evil spirits!” You screamed, obviously terrified. Jaemin frowned deeply and placed a hand over his chest, looking as if offended, “Evil spirit? Hey, I died a good man! And why can you even see me?”, then took a couple of steps towards your shaken poor figure.

“I know Jesus, don’t take another step!” You warned, going on karate position if ever the ghost attacks you. “Even I know Jesus,” Jaemin scoffed, “And stop screaming, lady. My ears hurt now.”

You couldn’t believe it. Is this some kind of nightmare? Hallucination? Has the math test you took just this morning finally ruin your mental state? How the fuck is Na Jaemin standing in front of you right now?

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you because believe it or not, I have better things to do. But I need your help.” He desperately pleaded, clasping both his hands together. “H-Help? W-What do you mean?” You stuttered, still in fighting position. “First, before I tell you, let’s introduce ourselves and stop standing like that.” Jaemin clears his throat, passing you a dazzling smile, “I’m—”.

“Na Jaemin, I know.” You did slowly stand up properly, but still made sure there’s at least a meter that’s in between you and the ghost. “Oh? Nice to know I still have fans.” Jaemin snickers, smirking as his ego has been fed, “And what’s your name beautiful? Or do I call you mine?”.

“It’s Jung Y/n, and fuck off.”

“Feisty and hot? Damn, just my type.”

“No, no. Shut up. What help do you need from me so you could finally leave me alone in peace?”

A moment of silence passed, and the playful aura Jaemin had disappeared into the wind. He spoke in a low sad voice while staring deeply in your eyes, “I need your help to find justice in my death.”

Why did you agree again? Oh right, because your one dumbass.

You let the ghost sit on your bed while you fix the messy scattered notes on the floor and on the desk of your room. Jaemin observed the place, tilting his head with a small smile, “Nice room,” he complimented.

Awkwardly, you responded, “Thanks?”.

Jaemin chuckled when he noticed how tensed you looked and laid on the bed. Weirdly, the bed bounced because of his weight. You watched him with wonder and pure curiosity, “Ghosts can touch things physically?”. He stared at your ceiling and exhaled, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Amused, you slowly sat beside him and poked his arm. His skin wasn’t warm yet you could feel it. Jaemin diverted his gaze at you as he watched you feed your curious mind. “Can I...?”, you asked, not wanting to be rude. He nodded his head. You placed your hand on his chest, where his heart used to beat.

Nothing.

Jaemin placed his cold hand on top of yours and squeezed it. “How come you know me but I don’t know you?” He asked suddenly. You laughed a bit in sarcasm, “Probably because you never dated me yet? And I just know your name because your the popular boy who killed himself.”

Awkward silence is at it again.

Clearing your throat, you beat yourself up internally and removed your hand, causing the both of you to feel an empty feeling. “So, uhhh, you were murdered?”.

Jaemin nodded his head, “Yeah. I was at my room getting ready for bed when my so called friend came over. I invited him in and we played video games when he excused himself that he needed to use the bathroom, so I let him. Then I felt someone came up at me from behind and cuts my throat out. You know what’s the funny thing though? He apologized before I closed my eyes.”

You could hear the sadness in his voice even if it was hard to notice. He talked about it as if it was all just a joke. Anyone could have been fooled with the smile Jaemin had on his face, but if you listen closely, you will know that he’s hurting.

“Hey...I hope you don’t mind, but for me to help you, you need to tell me who’s this ‘friend’ of yours.” You nudged his side. Jaemin took a deep breath, his lips trembling. He bought both his hands to cover up his face as he gulped. “You look like you need a hug—”

“—No shit sherlock.” Jaemin didn’t even let you finish before he suddenly wrapped his arms around you, snuggling his head on the crook of your neck. You were taken back from his sudden action, but didn’t push him away.

“Jaemin...?”

“It was Lee Jeno.”

Holy shit.

The next day in school, you entered the classroom. Usually, you would go to school alone, but now you have company.

Real weird shit company.

Jaemin followed you around like a lost puppy. He continued to talk on and on about his old life while you do your best to keep in your sanity and ignore his chatty nature. You sat on your seat and placed your bag down. Jaemin sat on an empty seat beside you and continued on with his stories.

That’s it.

You gave him a side glare and mouthed ‘shut up before I take back on what I said about helping you’. In an instant, he closed his mouth and shrunk himself on the seat.

Tension arrived with Lee Jeno when he too entered the room. His eyes were puffy and it was obvious that he had been crying for straight days. Why would he cry about the friend he murdered? Did he feel guilty?

While on the corner, Lee Haechan was keeping a strong gaze on Jeno. You continued to observe quietly as you mumble to yourself, “Does Haechan know something?”.

“He should have. I just hoped I saw this coming...then I would’ve been still alive.” Jaemin looked down on his pale cold skin and sighed.

Still ignoring him, you grabbed an empty notebook from your bag and wrote down about all the things you know that’s possibly linked to his murder. But after all the notes you took, it only confused you more. Why did Jeno kill Jaemin? They’re just two best friends who seems like brothers. It doesn’t make sense. But your willing to crack this case.

For the only person who stayed with me night and day, Na Jaemin.

“Have you heard? Jeno oppa’s so depressed about Nana’s death.”

This captured Jaemin’s attention. He turned around and followed two school girls, listening to their latest gossips.

“Poor Jeno, I feel so bad for him.” The other said, pitying the man.

“Hey Haechan!” You called out and tried to chase over the tanned male. Haechan stopped on his tracks and faced you with confusion written all over his face, “Yeah?”.

You raised your hand, telling him to wait while panting to catch your breath, “God damn, you walk so fast.”

“Sorry?”, Haechan didn’t know why he had to apologize but took his water bottle, offering you the drink, “Here. You need it more then me.” You ignored the fact that it’s the same bottle that the boy already drank on and took it, thanking him after.

“Jaemin was murdered by Jeno.” You said straightforwardly. You expected him to call you crazy and to leave him alone, but all he did was stare at you and nod. “I know.”

“...so you’re telling me that you can see, touch, and talk to Jaemin?” Haechan raised a brow. “Yeah,” you nodded, talking before he could open his mouth, “Look I know this all sounds crazy and shit, but I can prove it.”

“Do it then.”

You glanced at the ghost standing beside you, murmuring, “Help me out here Na.”

“Right, sorry. Ummm, tell him that he cheated on the English exam last year and that’s the only reason why he passed. For extra measures tell him that he always cry like a baby whenever he watches The Notebook.” Jaemin spilled.

Your brows creased as you looked at Jaemin then at Haechan then back at him, “Wait—Haechan watches The Notebook? Damn, I respect.”

“H-How do you know I watch The Notebook?” Haechan felt his legs weakened. Only one man on earth knew about his secret. And that was—

“—Jaemin told me.”

“Oh my god, you could see him.” Haechan’s jaw dropped, fully believing you now. “Thanks for believing. But listen, Jeno is the murderer and we need a plan on how to make him confess. For all I know, he might be dangerous. I still can’t believe I’m working with a murderer in the lab all this time—are you even listening to me?”.

“Can I hug Jaemin?”

Is he kidding?

“Are you kidding right now?” You ask. “Please? I miss him. Jaemin’s the one who saved me a couple of years ago from the bullies who took my money back at junior high school. I just want to say I’m sorry for not being able to stop Jeno.” He begged, tears filling up in his eyes. You cringed slightly and sighed, massaging your forehead.

“Just let him hug you, Y/n. And tell him I forgive him.” Jaemin smiled.

“Alright, you can hug me. Jaemin says he forgives you by the way.” You opened your arms, not entirely a fan of hugging but if someone needs one, then you’ll be able to give it. Haechan wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, silently sobbing against your shoulder.

Huggers. That’s what they are.

“Can you ask Jaemin if he could pick his nose?” Haechan leans closer to your ear, whispering. “What?” You glanced back at Jaemin then at him, looking utterly half confused and half disgusted.

“Tell him I can, but there’s no boogers.” Jaemin whispers from your other end. You gagged a little in your mouth and pushed him by his chest, resulting the ghost to laugh. “Tell him yourself that!”

“Don’t you remember? I can’t talk to him!” Jaemin continued to tease you, pushing his index finger inside his nose. “Na Jaemin! What the fuck?!” You scowled, hitting his arm. “Wanna hold hands? Let’s hold hands.” He reached for your right hand, securing it with his own.

“Wash your damn hand!”

“I’m damn dead!”

“I...just wanted to see if ghosts can pick their noses.” Haechan stared at you, understanding Jaemin may be doing something disgusting that you hate which is why it looks like your hitting and struggling in the air right now. “Yeah, I’m going to leave. Bye guys.”

But no one even gave him a look. Haechan smirked, shaking his head then grabbed his bag before leaving your room to go back home. Jaemin hovered above you, smiling so widely at your struggling figure.

“Get off me!”

“Never!”

For once, Jaemin finally had a perfect view of you. He examined how beautiful you looked and how your eyes showed the whole universe, sucking him right in. His breath hitched. “I’ll repay you, Y/n, one day. Thank you for everything....J-Just want you to know that.”

Your heart weirdly sped up, you felt like it could jump out of your chest at any moment right now. Na Jaemin is one handsome man, his features were perfect. No wonder why girls go crazy for him. Jaemin stayed on top of you, just staring at you in silence. He brushed off some of the hair covering your face that lead the two of you to feel warmth.

Which didn’t entirely made sense, because face it, he’s a goner—a dead man. Yet his heart fluttered along with yours the moment his gaze went lower to your lips.

No words about each other’s feelings were said, but it wasn’t needed.

They were both sure their hearts, beating or not, belonged to each other.

“Jaemin? C-Can you get off of me?” Your voice cracked. Jaemin licked his lips, finally obliging and sitting beside you instead. He hugged himself, resting his head by the wall behind him, “Is it weird that I’m thankful I was murdered because I met you?”.

Butterflies in your stomach seemed to start one hell of a party. You cleared your throat and looked away, trying to compose yourself, “Yep. Really weird.”

Oh but Jaemin likes weird.

Jeno didn’t know why he suddenly sliced Jaemin’s throat. But rage and jealousy won over him, and before he knew it, he was in front of his best friend’s house. He woke up the exact moment when he realized that He just killed his brother, his best friend, his partner in crime, Na Jaemin.

Jeno remembered everything as clear as day. How fear blinded his guilt. He staged everything up as a suicide and even typed in Jaemin’s computer a fake goodbye letter. Tears filled his eyes when he escaped through the window.

He knows the truth will always find it’s way to reveal itself, and before that happens, Jeno is ready to confess and pay for his sins.

“Hey Y/n,” he approached you, weakly smiling. He noticed the way your body tensed uncomfortably when he came. Jeno knows you know. He isn’t stupid, especially when you’ve been hanging out with Haechan lately.

“H-Hey, what’s up?” You tried to act cool, smiling back at him. You offered him to take a sit in front of you. “Fucker.” Jaemin cursed under his breath, glaring holes straight at the man. You held his hand from under the table, a way of trying to comfort him.

“I murdered Jaemin.”

It was quiet, leaves from the tree above fell but it all the movements felt like they were moving in slow motion.

“Why?” Was all you could muster out. Jaemin held back all his tears, all the anger and betreyal he’s feeling. He tried his best just so he could not scare you. A revengeful ghost is what makes one evil.

“I-I didn’t know what came into me. I-It was the other me who did it. The me who was obsessed with Haerin.” Unlike Jaemin, Jeno let all his devastation show. He sobbed uncontrollably, covering his face in shame.

“H-Haerin? The girl who’s president of Jaemin’s fanclub? That Joo Haerin?”

Jaemin was beyond furious. He jolted up from his seat and tried to grab Jeno’s collar, full on anger at this point. “You killed me over Joo Haerin?! You killed your best friend just because of a girl?! A girl?! Lee fucking Jeno, if I’m going to hell, I’m dragging you in with me!”.

It hurt you seeing him like this. A tear slowly rolled down your cheek without you even noticing.

“I was diagnosed with obsession ever since I was fifteen. Me and Haerun were childhood friends, she was my first friend before we met Donghyuck or Jaemin. I was so in love with her but Jaemin happened. He flirted and took her for a date. As a joke.”

More tears fell from your eyes. Your chest heavies that you started to shake, “W-What happened?”.

“I tried to control myself, so I took therapy. Only Donghyuck knows about my condition when he saw me back at the hospital. I thought I was getting better when Haerin came to me crying a-and told me that Jaemin broke her heart—”

You looked down, bitterly thinking. Typical playboy.

Jaemin clenched his fists tightly, looking down at the ground.

“ —I-I lost it and marched up at Jaemin’s house. When I confronted him, he just simply told me that she was just a toy, an entertainment for him. He called her names and laughed at Haerin until everything kind o-of ticked something inside of me ad before I knew it I...I killed him. Y/n, I killed Na Jaemin, I killed my brother. P-Please turn me in, please let me pay.” Jeno dropped down on his knees, head lung low.

Silence.

That’s what they all needed.

It was like deja vu.

You walking home alone from school, with no ghost following you around. After Jeno’s confession, just like he wished, you accompanied him to the police station and watched him turned himself in. Jaemin refuses to come, saying he needs to think alone first and you respected that.

But he’s a playboy.

And a playboy will always be playboy. Alive or dead.

You don’t know why it’s suddenly a big deal for you when you already knew on the first day you met him, but it’s different now. You’ve learned on how to like Na Jaemin—him and his chatty nature, him and his flirty attitude, him and his addicting laugh, him and his beautiful smile. Everything about him.

But you aren’t sure if it’s right. Because first of all, he’s dead. Gone. His body into ashes. And second, he’s a playboy. Just like you said, playboys never change.

“You lied.” You didn't have to look just so you could confirm that you're not alone anymore. His presence was too strong for you, and you hate how he weakens your heart. "I did." Jaemin admitted, now standing right behind you. "Why did you lie?".

"Because...I thought if I told you what really happened, you'll never help me."

"Selfish motherfucker." You turned around and faced him, tears uncontrollably falling down from your eyes, "You deserved what happened you heartless jerk. H-How could you...why would you...was it even fun playing with women's hearts?".

Jaemin stayed silent, closing his eyes then spoke, "I had my first love. She controlled me all around and I followed her like a brainless puppet, blinded by love. When she kissed my brother right in front of me, I finally had my fucking eyes opened. She's just using me to get close to hyung. Since then, I thought love is just that cruel. I vowed to myself and to the heavens that I will never fall in love ever again, and tried to avenge my remaining pride by being the heartless, selfish jerk you know me as."

"Well, did you feed your pride now? Are you satisfied?" You spat, not able to control your feelings. You know it isn't your place to be mad, for god's sake— your not his girlfriend. "No," Jaemin took another step closer to you, looking straight at your eyes, "Because all the walls I built up around my heart, you just broke them and entered with ease. I didn't give you the key, but you managed to see right through me like I'm some kind of transparent thing or whatever."

A shooting star fell, soon did another.

"You had what you wanted, justice." You could merely say those words, having a hard time speaking. "I did, didn't I? I have everything I want now, except for one thing."

"What?"

"Are you willing to grant my final wish?"

"I'm not your genie, Jaemin." You responded with a hiss, but it was a clear that you really are willing to grant anything he wanted. If he would ask you to jump off a building, you wouldn't even hesitate to do so.

"I want to kiss you."

Your the one who leaned in first, placing a hand by his shoulder and pecked his lips softly. Jaemin chuckled, feeling flustered by the softness of your lips and placed one hand on your cheek, kissing you fully now.

The kiss was short, but it was enough to full both your hearts with love. "You don't deserve me, Y/n. But I want to be more selfish then I ever had been and have you all to myself." He mumbled against your lips, brushing his on yours gently. Jaemin sent you his last sweet smile before whispering the words that squeezed your heart too much that you thought it'll bleed.

"I love you."

And he vanished through the wind, along with the third shooting star falling.

It hurts. It hurts from the fact that even while slowly disappearing, he still tried to keep you in his arms, he still tried to kiss you and wipe your tears. Jaemin's now truly gone, and there was no more annoying, chatty, heartless, selfish Jaemin who used to brighten up your day. No more bugging you every morning to wake you up for school. No more.

"I love you too."

Was it too late? No. Not at all. You know that even if the winds took him away from you, it would never be able to take the love he left. He's in a better place now, safe and sound inside your heart. No one's going to dare hurt Jaemin anymore.

So, is the ending happy or sad?

It's neither happy nor sad. Why? Because it's still not the ending. There will be no ending with the love shared between you and Jaemin.

"Will you be okay?" Haechan asks.

Will you?

A shooting star fell from the sky, you smile as you see it pass by your window.

Yes, you will.

"I'm alright." You answered him with no sense of regret. He's here, you know it. He's watching and it warms your heart. "Okay, that's all I needed to hear." Haechan breathed out, smiling too. You opened the notebook in your hands, looking through the notes you used to take to help solve the case on how to propose proper justice.

Funny thing actually, everything's useless. Jeno confessed himself with no one pushing him too. He's willing to serve the punishment since he knew he deserved it, and that's enough for Jaemin to forgive him wholeheartedly.

"You and Jaemin never answered my question though." Haechan cuts off your thoughts, staring at the bright moon through the window. "Question?".

"Can ghosts pick on their noses?"

You laughed. You fucking laughed. "Yeah, but no boogers."

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hornime · 3 years

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voyeurant | kenma kozume x f!reader

he tentatively wrapped a palm around the shaft, shuddering at the contact, his eyelids fluttering shut. god, i’m such a pervert, thinking about her like this. she’d hate me if she knew i saw her like that, knew that i was touching myself thinking about her tits...

warnings: 18+, timeskip!kenma, kinda dubcon, kenma’s unintentionally pervy, male masturbation, poorly written video game content (i tried my best), mutual pining but u both are oblivious

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: yes, the title is a shitty pun of valorant. no, i will not be changing it. also this tiktok about timeskip kenma made me giggle so pls enjoy.

voyeurant: part one ↓ | part two | part three:

“fuck, i hate this map,” kenma grumbled into his headset.

your voiced chimed in his ears. “is it ascent?” you turned to see his face on your screen, pinched in annoyance. “ha, it is ascent. sucks for you.”

“which one are you on? haven?”

“you know it,” you chuckled. “your favorite.”

“i hate you.” he weighed his options, did he really want to play this game? the layout of the world made it irritatingly hard to strategize, and today’s losing streak was making him more agitated than usual. with a sign, he closed the application. “fuck this. i’m gonna go piss.”

“yeah, yeah, you’re such a big baby. and...” you released your mouse, throwing your hands up in triumph, “we just won. at this point, i’m gonna outrank you.” you were joking, of course. kenma wasn’t just a gamer, he was kodzuken, one of japan’s best pro-gamers, and you were just someone that played as a hobby. but it was always fun to tease.

“hmm,” he hummed. “i’m sure you will.” he turned his head to look directly at his webcam, smirking, “in your dreams.”

“ooh, catboy’s getting feisty!” he flinched at the nickname. “go pee so i can beat you at your best.”

he obliged, pulling his headphones off and looping them on the top of his chair. he casually raised his middle finger at you while smoothing out strands of his hair, prompting a series of profanities to escape your mouth, none of which he could hear. he chuckled playfully as you responded with two middle fingers of your own, before moving out of the camera to get to the bathroom.

you and kenma had met in an... interesting way, to say the least. after going moderately viral from lashing out at him for refusing to heal you in a game of overwatch—while he was streaming—the two of you reconciled over a twitter thread and exchanged gamer tags. since then, you’d struck up an easygoing friendship, characterized by almost nightly discord calls and occasional flirting. but we’re just friends, you often reminded yourself. and you were fine, well, mostly fine, with that.

tonight was like any other night: both you and him spending hours in a video chat with nothing better to do than mindlessly play games and bash each other. it was more than enough to strengthen your relationship but fell short of giving you the romantic tension you craved.

with kenma off in the bathroom, you, already bored, spun wildly in your chair. forgetting that your earbuds were still plugged in, the white wire caught on an opened can of coke sitting on your desk, spilling the sugary drink all over your keyboard and the front of your shirt.

“shit!” you quickly scrambled for paper towels, but the still-connected wire yanked you backwards. in your haste for something to wipe the soda with, the fact that your camera remained on in the video call completely slipped your mind. making the split-second decision that the trip for a towel wasn’t worth it at this point, you quickly whipped off your shirt, dabbing the keys with the part that was still dry. since you were home, you’d gone braless, and your current predicament had you flashing your webcam.

now, kenma had seen a lot of things from your side of the call: he’d seen you get chewed out by your residential advisor for being too loud, you with two sticks of pocky poking out of your mouth like walrus tusks, and you doing random cosplay moves you’d seen on tiktok. what he wasn’t expecting to see, not even in his wildest dreams, was a screenful of your tits, slightly damp from the cola that had seeped through the fabric of your long-gone shirt.

he stopped in his tracks, still out of the frame of his camera, eyes wide and heart racing, desperately trying to calm down and prevent the gradual hardening of his cock in his pants. unable to deny his desires, he continued staring at your plump breasts on his computer, you completely unaware that he could see you.

you quickly threw your soaked top in the laundry basket before throwing on a random sweatshirt and trying to calm your frazzled nerves. you tentatively touched your keyboard, groaning internally when you fingers lightly stuck to the buttons. it’s gonna take forever to clean this, you mourned.

“hey,” kenma mumbled, reappearing on screen and shaking you out of your thoughts.

“hey.” you noticed his flushed expression. “are you okay? you look really red.”

“uh, yeah. i actually uh, i feel kinda sick. so i’m gonna, gonna go.”

“oh, okay.” why’s he acting so weird? “feel better!” you disconnected from the call with a huff, disappointment morphing your face into a pout. well, you thought, better get to cleaning.

kenma, on the other hand, was still, swallowing as the bulge in his boxers became agonizingly hard. though the only thing left on his screen was his reflection staring back at him, the luscious view of your bust was etched in his mind. his hands moved to free his cock, the tip an angry red and smearing pre-cum over the waistband of his underwear.

“fuck,” he whined, slowly stroking up and down. his thighs trembled as he fell back into his chair, mind wandering. he couldn’t stop himself, his thoughts become more and more lewd, fantasizing about how your breasts would bounce as he thrusted into you, how your thighs would wrap warmly around your head as he ate you out, how you’d cry out his name so prettily when he made you squirt around his fingers.

it was all too much, and as the circle he made with his fingers tightened as he reached his tip, he lurched forward, alarmed at how good everything felt just by thinking about you. i can’t cum, i can’t, the small part of his brain that wasn’t completely overtaken with pleasure tried to reason with him. there’s no going back if i—shit—if i cum. she’ll know, somehow, if i—if i cum, i—

the ecstasy kept clouding his judgement and his body worked against his mind as his hand pumped faster and faster while his conscience screamed to stop. his wrist wetly slapped the base of his cock, the sounds of both his hands and his moans getting too loud for comfort, but all he could think about was you. your eyes, your mouth, your chest, your legs, your ass, your pussy. god, he wanted to be in you so badly.

he couldn’t hold back, his insatiable need to cum overriding his senses, and the translucent liquid twitched out of his throbbing cock in spurts, drenching his fist and his balls. “fuck, fuck, fuck. i’m—fuck.”

he collapsed against the back of his chair, chest heaving with the sheer intensity of his orgasm. he combed a hand through his hair, the consequences of his actions now weighing heavily on his shoulders. i’m never gonna be able to look at her in the eyes again, he lamented. how am i ever gonna—damn it.

the sudden ping of a notification had his eyes raising from the mess on his pants towards his computer screen.

meanwhile, you were messaging kenma, a little off-put by his sudden radio silence but chalking it all up to his mysterious sickness.

[11:05 PM] you: hey ken! hope u feel better

[11:05 PM] you: if u get the chance u should check out what i added to our minecraft house. its perfect for sick victorian orphans like u

[12:14 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: why arent u responding

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: ok u got me ill tell u

[12:05 PM] you: its a hot tub

[12:05 PM] you: but with soup

[12:05 PM] you: but the soup is lava

[12:05 PM] you: genius right

[12:06 PM] you: anyway get some sleep and feel better <3

[12:06 PM] you: lmk if u wanna play animal crossing

[12:06 PM] you: actually no u should sleep. rest ur eyes and shit

[12:06 PM] you: no animal crossing for u!

[12:06 PM] you: sleep well so i can destroy ur ass in val tmrw

[12:06 PM] you: >:)

he sighed as he read your one-sided ramblings. he really liked you.

and he really wanted to fuck you. lucky for you, you wanted the exact same thing.

if only kenma knew what you did on the other side of the screen, hands in your undies and his name on your lips...

>> part two

#i have never played a game of valorant in my life #for someone thats only watched their friends play i think this is pretty decent #like wtf is ascent idfk #kinky.inky #haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #kenma smut #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kenma x you #kenma x reader #tw.dubcon #kenma

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

We Make a Pretty Good Team

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s game night at the Avengers Tower, and you find the perfect partner in Loki. Warnings: ‘tis but fluff A/N: Just another self-indulgent, fluffy story. Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“First Saturday of the month. You know what that means,” Tony hollered to the Avengers scattered about the Tower.

“Yes!” Thor boomed. “Be prepared to lose.”

“Funny,” Clint laughed with a roll of his eyes. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

“What is happening?” you asked, somewhat bewildered, as the heroes came into the room. “What’s significant about Saturday?”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right. You just missed the last one. Every first Saturday of the month we have a game night,” Nat explained.

You’d been part of the team for just under a month, having officially joined on a Sunday. So, it was true that you’d yet to experience their apparently traditional game night. It sounded like a great deal of fun, though, especially because the Avengers had become your second family in the short time you’d known them. Well, you’d actually known Nat and Clint for years, since you all worked for SHIELD. In fact, they were a huge part of the reason you were an Avenger now. A few months ago there was a particularly dangerous crime ring, and they’d specifically requested you as backup. You’d clicked with everyone immediately and, numerous transfer papers later, here you were.

“Sounds exciting!” you told them. “What are we playing first?”

“Well actually,” Bruce said kind of sheepishly, “it’s not that I want you to sit out, but they’re all team games, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“So we have a team of three,” Nat said, as if it were obvious.

“No way. That’s unfair,” Tony argued.

You bit your lip, feeling like maybe you were intruding on something you shouldn’t be a part of. It was their thing, after all, and perhaps there was simply no room for a newcomer. As they continued to bicker about whether one larger team mattered or not, you considered just slipping away. That’s when you noticed that there was someone missing.

“What about Loki?” you said. “He would make the numbers even.”

Much to your surprise, everyone burst out laughing. You nervously ran your sweaty palms on the legs of your pants and let out a small laugh, though you weren’t quite sure at what. Once their cackling died down, you dared to ask what was so funny.

“My brother never attends these games nights,” Thor informed you. “He isn’t one for group activities, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Well, have you ever invited him?”

“Once or twice,” Tony said. “Listen, if you want to try to make a social butterfly out of Reindeer Games, be my guest. In the meantime, we’ll work out a feasible way for us all to play.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed a little, standing up to go find Loki. It was honestly ridiculous that they still treated him the way they did. Sure, he likes to be alone sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he likes being lonely. Not that he’d ever actually admitted to you that he was, but you knew. It was blatantly obvious in the way he sent longing glances toward the rest of the team when you gathered together. You always made sure to ask him over, an invitation he usually accepted. Everyone else had laughed the first time you’d done that, too. They’d only ever asked him a few times, and it was right when he was new and still so lost, so alone, so afraid. Why they took that to just be his permanent disposition, you didn’t know. Regardless of how insensitive they were to his situation, your inclusivity had brought Loki out of his shell a bit, and a friendship had blossomed between you.

A short walk later, you reached his door. You stretched out a hand, but hesitated to knock. Doubt gnawed at the back of your mind. Maybe he truly was not a fan of board games, and then you’d be interrupting his night. After all, he must have a tradition of his own if this happens every first Saturday. Still, you knew that was usually not the case, and steeled yourself against the uncertainty.

“Hello, my little mortal,” he greeted you, opening the door. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“What is it? Are you ill? Hurt?” he questioned, jumping into action and shepherding you to his couch.

“No, nothing like that,” you laughed, though you were touched by his concern. “It’s just that it’s game night, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“Oh? And I suppose that you are asking me to join,” he mused as you nodded. “I am not usually invited, and I am notorious spoiled sport, just ask Thor.”

“Well, people say a lot of things about you, and they’re usually not true.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to play if you really don’t want to, but will you? Please. For me?”

“For you, my little mortal, anything. After all, how can I resist those puppy dog eyes?”

You giggled and led the way out of his room, ignoring the thumping of your heart when his hand accidentally brushed yours. Nat and Tony were still bickering about the teams when you arrived, but were quickly stunned into silence when they saw Loki.

“Brother! Good to see you’ve decided to join,” Thor greeted, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. “Shall we begin then?”

First up was Cranium, and you could tell that everyone else was divided into their usual teams: Tony and Bruce, Clint and Nat, Thor and Steve. You rubbed your hands in excitement, ready for some friendly competition.

“Yes!” you shouted a while later, after you and Loki answered the final question right. “We win!”

Everyone else’s jaw hung open, shocked by how serious of a competitor you were. Not to say you were mean-spirited or gloated or anything, but it was obvious you took game night very seriously. Loki was a little surprised too, but he relished in the infectious energy of your feisty spirit. Not to mention he absolutely loved to be on the winning team.

“Congratulations, guys,” Steve said. “Don’t expect to get as lucky in the next game, though.”

The next game, apparently, was charades, which you and Loki absolutely dominated again. The two of you worked as a well-oiled machine, guessing the simple ones like sewing and the more obscure ones like whale watching with ease. Loki was also surprisingly knowledgeable about Midgardian movies and literature. The two of you high fived, having just edged out the competition.

“Wow, good job guys,” Nat congratulated. “Tony and Bruce usually win that one.”

“Way to rub it in,” Tony groaned, flopping back on the couch.

You could tell a part of him wanted to accuse Loki of cheating but, having no real evidence and not wanting to start a fight, restrained himself. Instead, he contented himself with just mumbling how much of an outrage it was. You, however, were on cloud nine.

As the next game was set up, Loki pulled you onto his lap, instilled with confidence after his latest wins. Of course, if anyone were to ask, he would just say he was saving room on the couch. It would have, though, been a lie.

“Ready for a clean sweep, my little mortal?” he whispered, his breath surprising cold on your ear.

“Bring it on!” you whispered back with a wink.

The last game of the night was Pictionary, and by now everyone knew you and Loki were the team to beat. Unfortunately for them, you got this win, too. The Avengers let out a collective sigh as you shouted a victorious whoop and hugged Loki.

“Good game everyone,” you said, starting to help clean up.

“What are you doing, my little mortal?” Loki questioned, half joking. “Do you not know the losers have to clean up?”

“Not sure that’s actually a rule, Rock of Ages,” Tony grumbled.

“Fine, I’ll help,” he replied, placing a singular piece back in the box. “There. Now it is time for our victory lap.”

Then he scooped you up bridal style using his superhuman strength and began running you around the Tower in his arms, both laughing the whole time. He finally brought you to a stop on the balcony of his room.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?” you said, still chuckling.

“Perhaps. But we deserved that after an excellent showing.”

“I guess so. As much as it pains me to admit it, we should probably go easy on them next time. We’ll just win one a night, ok?”

“That’s my little mortal,” he happily sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “Always looking out for others. Always looking out for me. Thank you for inviting me along tonight.”

“No problem. It was a lot of fun. We make a pretty good team.”

“Indeed.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you rested against Loki, whose arms were still wrapped around you. He felt more relaxed and happy than he had in a while. He knew he’d ask you out someday, but right now he was still too shy, this friendship still too new. One day he would, though, and he couldn’t wait to get there and to every day after.

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adventuresinwonderlust · 3 years

Text

Title: Heated

Pairing: Alpha Yoongi x Omega Reader (Wolf AU)

Warnings: Smut, trigger warnings (Blood, biting), unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), impregnation kink, fingering, pwp

Rating: 18 and over

Tag List: @mochilicious-yoongi

You were sick, sicker than you had ever been. You had many heats before this one but none as intense as this. Your roommate was always kind, leaving you meals at your door. Always knocking to see if you were ok or offering to bring you a mate. Of all the mates she brought, no one could satiate you this time. “I’m dying.” You pant, lying on the cool tile of your bedroom floor. “You’re too dramatic Y/N. I think this time is different because you crave more than just a once off. You need an Alpha. You need to be marked.” You shook your head furiously at her suggestion. “No, Never!” You groaned, writhing in pain. She winced watching you, pushing your hair away from your sweaty face.

“Kai knows of an Alpha here on campus. He is completely independent and just your type. Not like these fuck boys you’ve been dealing with.” “No.” You whine, waving her off. She sighs, nodding and leaving the room. You spend the rest of the night awake, crying and groaning in pain. The following day, you’re awoken by the sharpest of pains in your core. Your body is shaking uncontrollably, and you’ve sweated through your clothing. You can no longer take this horrible heat, making your way to your phone. “Kai’s friend. Who is he?” You text to your roommate. “Min Yoongi.” She responds. You groan when you see the name pop up on your screen. You know Min Yoongi, everyone knows him. He’s the bad boy bachelor on campus. Hot, rich, smart, and the ultimate Alpha. He’d never get mixed up with the likes of you. “Forget it.” You text back. “He’s at Kai’s party right now as we speak. Get it together and come.” She replies. You groan, shaking your head, curling into a ball on the ground. That is until your body ignites again causing you to cry out. A low growl escapes from your chest and you feel your core soak. “I can’t take it anymore.” You shout.

Kai’s house is a half hour cab ride away. You exit the cab and begin to walk up the block to the house. You try your best to act natural even though your body betrays you with each step you take. Upon entering the noisy house, heads begin to turn, and you know others like you can smell your heat. You move quickly through the party, happy when you find your roommate and Kai. Kai being an Alpha himself, he’s able to ward off the others. “He’s around here somewhere.” Your roommate explains. You look around, feeling ill, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. “I need a restroom.” “Upstairs, on the right.” Kai instructs. You nod and head off.

You make it safely to the restroom and wash your face, tempted to lie on the cool tiled floor. Instead, you exit the restroom in search of your friends. “Aren’t we brave? Walking around here in heat, all alone.” A deep sultry voice grumbles from behind you. “Excuse me?” You growl, trying to sound intimidating. The voice steps forward with a chuckle. “I smelled you coming from up the block.” Your eyes widen as you gaze upon Min Yoongi. You stand before him breathless. Your heat besting you now, your body ignites, and you feel your cunt soak. You can’t help but moan out loud.

He pouts at you, moving forward towards you to run his long slender fingers down your cheek. “You smell amazing,” He whispers, eyes fully blown,” I bet you taste good too.” You nod frantically. “I’ve been looking for you.” You mutter. He tilts his head. “Really? Why is that?” “I need help. Please. With my heat. Nothing works. No one’s good enough.” He smirks at you, biting his bottom lip. “Oh, I see. Did you want me to fuck you tonight? Where all these people can hear you?” Your heart was beating rapidly. Your breath hitching. “Yes. Please. I don’t care. I want them to hear.” You beg, feeling the sting of tears at the back of your eyes. Yoongi smiles, running his hand down your arm, taking your hand and pulling you down the hall. “Kai always told me about his Omega's roommate. How independent you were. Never wanting an Alpha. Loving the thrill of the chase,” He rambles, pulling you into an empty room and locking the door, “He didn’t mention how beautiful you were though or that you’d ever seek me out.” “Yoongi, please.” You beg, throwing your body into his. You breath him in, growling at how intoxicating his scent was.

“Please what?” He chuckled, grabbing your waist, digging his fingertips into your hips. “Please fuck me. Please take this pain away.” You whimper, pressing your hips forward, gasping when you feel his massive erection. He grips your ass now, a low growl humming from deep within his chest, his eyes glowing yellow. “Beg me some more. Beg me to fuck my pups into you.” He growls. You pant heavily, your lust over taking all your faculties, you barely feel yourself climb his body to wrap your legs around his waist. “Please Yoongi, please, I need so badly to be fucked. To be filled to the brim with your pups.” You pant desperately, grinding into his cock through his jeans. He slams his lips against yours, walking you back towards the bed, tossing you onto it. “Take your clothes off. NOW!” He growls.

You begin to strip quickly, shedding your now damp clothing. Yoongi stands before you in awe, panting heavily, eyes aglow. You wonder for a moment if he too is in heat. You lie back in just your underwear, panting, watching as he begins to pull off his own clothing. You mewl at the sight of him in just his boxers, his manhood pressing painfully against the fabric. He follows your path of vision, looking down and gripping his length through the material. “Think you can take all of me?” He whispers, climbing atop the bed now. You lie back, spreading your legs for him. He inhales deeply, dropping a hand between your bodies when he takes your mouth with his. He rubs at your sex through your panties in rhythm with his swirling tongue. Everything is heightened and you buck your hips forward into his touch. He slowly trails kisses along your jaw, wriggling his fingers in unison, moving your panties to the side. He enters you slowly with two of his long slender digits, his tongue creating small circles along the concave of your neck and shoulder. He rests his mouth there, sucking at your flesh, leaving a reddened mark. You moan loudly, your body trembling at the feel of his canine grazing the flesh of your neck all the while his fingers massage every nerve ending within your walls.

You clench down on his fingers, your arousal dripping down onto his hand. The heat of his body in combination with the heat of yours creating a furnace of desire between you both that you can no longer take. “Please, I need you inside me.” You reach down grasping his thick length and squeezing. He growls into your neck, his mouth agape, the feel of his saliva on you. “Don't!” You shout, tugging at his cock. He hisses, taking your hand off him and pinning it above your head. “You sure you don’t want to be mine?” He whispers, curling his fingers inside you, touching on your g-spot. Your mouth hangs open and all you can do is shake your head. “I’d be so good to you. Give you everything your heart desires. Fuck you on command. Fill you with my pups. I’d be the best Alpha.” He continues, his fingers moving faster, bringing you closer to the edge. You cry out, still shaking your head. He bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes burning with desire as he watches you come undone. You scream out his name when your orgasm hits, your back arching so furiously, you're afraid it may snap.

It's not enough, if anything it fuels your heat even more, and what’s worse is his scent hits you like a ton of bricks. “You’re in heat too.” You moan, slamming your lips against his. He doesn't acknowledge your statement, he just ravages your mouth with his, grinding his painfully erect cock into your throbbing cunt. He makes his way down your neck, resting his mouth in your sensitive concave again, licking at your most vulnerable spot. “Mine.” He growls into your flesh. “Please, Yoongi! Fuck me! Just fuck me.” You beg, drawing his attention away from your neck. “I want you.” He whispers, tugging down his underwear, cock springing free. “All of you.” He hovers over your body rubbing your sensitive core through your panties. He doesn’t bother to take them off, rather, he pulls them to the side lining his dripping tip up with your entrance. “You’re going to take all of me. Like a good Omega?” He grunts, still hovering over you. “Yes, please. All of it, all of you.” He smirks down at you, shoving his fat tip through your slit, sending a sting through your core as it penetrates your entrance.

“OH! Fuck!” You cry out when he slams his fat cock completely into you, stretching you like you’ve never been stretched before. “Good girl, taking all of me. So tight. So wet. Feels so good.” He moans into your ear, allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. He slowly begins to rotate his hips, gliding in and out of your sopping pussy. You grip his shoulders tightly, your legs spreading farther and father apart with each thrust. “So good Yoongi. Fuck! Your cock feels so good.” He growls from within his chest, adjusting your legs higher around his waist. He grips the mattress on either side of your head and begins to quickly whip his hips into yours, fucking into your core wildly. You moan loudly into the room, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the feeling of his full tip rubbing against your g-spot. “You want to mother my pups Omega. Want me to fill your womb up with my cum?” His raspy voice floods your senses. The smell of both your heats filling the room. You look up at him, nodding frantically. “Yes Yoongi, please, fuck your pups into me.” He smirks. His moans coming through more and more animal like with the rise of his climax.

He takes you into a passionate kiss, commanding your mouth with his. He moves slowly to your neck, kissing along the soft flesh and you can’t help but turn your head to reveal more flesh to him. He growls into your skin, breathing you in, his pace quickening. “I’m so close.” You tremble, feeling your walls tighten around him. “I want you,” He breathes into your skin, “All of you.” “Do it. I want you to.” His head shoots up and he looks at your face to be sure. You nod and it takes him no time at all to drop his head into your neck, planting gentle kisses along the base of your neck. “Mine.” He growls. You moan when you feel his canine poke at your flesh, his cock still working its magic inside your walls. You grip his ass tightly, pulling him deeper and deeper inside you, that warm feeling building slowly. “I’m so close.” You whimper. “Mine.” He whispers again and that’s when you feel it. Yoongi’s teeth puncture your flesh with ease and you gasp as your orgasm explodes through you. You scream out his name, the warm feeling of your blood dripping down your shoulder, your vision blurring. The amazing feeling of relief washes over you, tears stinging your eyes.

Yoongi licks at the area he’s bitten, his pace faltering when his lips crash against yours. “Mine. My Omega. I’m gonna fill you up baby.” “Please, I want you to so badly.” “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m cumming.” He rambles, soon crying out, his cock twitching inside your tight hole. You gasp when you feel his cum shoot inside you and soon spill out of you. He continues to thrust through his high, slowing when you both come down. He kisses your lips softly, moving to kiss your cheeks, your neck, then lapping at your neck again. “Are you ok?” He soon asks. “Yes. You?” He nods, kissing you again. “That’s never happened to me before.” He smirks, gently pulling out of you. You groan at the empty feeling and he plants a kiss on your cheek to comfort you. “What do you mean?” You inquire, taking your clothing from him and dressing. “I’ve never had an Omega trigger my heat before. It’s how I knew, well, that you were meant to be mine.” You smile up at him. “I never knew that was a thing.” You tug your shirt over your head. He stands before you, grabbing your chin in between his index finger and thumb, raising you to face him. “I meant what I said before. I’m going to be the best Alpha. Give you anything and everything you want.” You chuckle. “You better.” He smiles at your response, pulling you up off the bed and into a kiss. “How’s your heat now?” He asks, his arms still around your waist. “So much better now thanks to you.” “See, I’m already doing pretty well.” You both giggle, kissing again. “So, what now Alpha?” “Whatever you want baby.”

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga x reader #suga x you

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kaz11283 · 3 years

Text

Main Attraction

Characters: Clint Barton, Loki, Thor, the Avengers

Warnings: maybe slight adult situations (if you squint)

Parings: Loki x Reader, Clint x Reader (I'm back at it with the Brother and sister pair!)

Summary: Each if the Avengers have their own way of winding down and keeping thier minds busy, yours just so happens to be performing with your brothers band sometimes.

"Are you nervous about tonight?" Loki asked as he sat on my bed waiting on me to get ready.

"No, not really. I mean it is the biggest crowd weve preformed in front of. But weve been doing this for so long it kinda get to were it doesnt bother us." You answered placing the second ear right in your ear. You had black leather tights on with an off the shoulder stone washed ripped shirt with a white tank top on, black ankle boots with fringe, both wrists had multiple metal braclets on, long dangle earrings, and three necklaces on. Your hair had been straighten stick straight and you had darker makeup on than you normally wore.

"Wow," Lokis jaw dropped slightly as you walked out and did a twirl for him. "I like this rocker look on you." You laughed leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

"I know how uncomfortable you are around a bunch of people. Im just letting you know you dont have to go if you dont want to."

"Yes and let all those Midguardians fawn over you? No." He said rolling his eyes. "I want to go and see you in your element."

"Fighting is my element. Archery is my element. This? This is just a side hobby." He stands up and gives you a kiss.

"COME ON ROMEO AND JULEIT! LETS GO!" Clint yelled banging on the door. You laughed rolling your eyes.

"I dont like him." Loki grumbled pulling you back into him and placing another kiss on your lips.

"Hes not a really big fan of yours either Mr. Mind Control." You laughed walking to the door and opening it.

"Bout time. You look awesome by the way sis." Clint said throwing his arm around your neck. "We need to go ahead and head that way. Everyone else is gonna meet us there."

"Ok," you grabbed a hold of Loki and pulled him down to you. "I love you Daggers." You smiled kissing him.

"I love you too, arrows. Ill see you there."

~~~

Walking up onto the stage you could feel the excitement run through you as the crowds cheers echoed around you. You walked up to the mic and took a few deep breaths.

"You ready for this?" Clint asked walking up beside you.

"Always Birdboy, really just happy to be back on stage. Kinda like an escape from the norm." You smiled adjusting the mic.

"Well its a first time actually having the team in the crowd, not to mention Daggers." He saod making a kissy face.

"Shut up, your just jealous." You laughed grabbing your guitar.

"Oh yeah jealsous of you having such an adorable nickname Arrows." He laughed walkong tonthe front of the stage.

"Hey sibling rivalry, are we gonna perform or are you two just gonna banter back and forth?" Kane, the drummer yelled behind you.

You struck the first cord of the song and started singing, a deafening scream from the crowd started up. As Clint started singing the curtain raised showing you a packed out theater. The music flowed easily, like hopping back on a bike.

The lights came from behind you showing your silhouette to the crowd as you jump hitting a big note causing the crowd to go wild. Clint was getting more into the music as he started dancing and spinning on stage, this was one of your favoite songs to preform, not only did the band get into it but it was a good hype up song to kick things off. You walked to the front of the stage during your solo and looked down noticing Loki standing in the front row smiling one of the biggest smiles youve ever seen from him.

Walking back after the solo was over you went over to Clints mic with him and finished up the song. After an hour of straight performing and two encores you finally sat your guitar in its stand and walked to the back grabbing a bottle of water amd slapped Adam, the bass player, on the back telling him he had done good.

"That was an amazing opening." He said ruffling your hair.

"Thanks, I've been practicing." You said walking off to your group of people surrounding Clint congratulating him on the show.

"Of course, we cant forget how absolutly amazing Y/n looked up there." Thor yelled grabbing you in a tight hug spinning the two if you around.

"Ok, Thor, put me down now." You laughed giving him one more squeeze around the neck before he placed you back down.

"You were absolutly amazing, doll." Bucky said not looking at you but over your head to a group of girls standing just behind you.

"Yeah, yeah, go." You laughed pushing him toward them. "Where's Loki?"

Steve pointed toward the back were the dressing rooms were located. You walked to the one that had your name on it and opened it up being met by Loki shoving you aginst the closed door kissing you breathless.

"That was absolutly astounding my darling." He said finally pulling back alittle bit. "You were amazing up there."

"Thank you. You know we're going to have a couple more of these? You are more than welcome to come." You gave him a glance.

"I wouldnt miss them for the world."

"HOW COME EVERYTIME I TRY TO FIND YOU TWO YOUR BEHIND CLOSED DOORS?" Clint yelled from the other side. "Lets go! After party at the tower!"

"You would think by now he would get the hint." Loki groaned rolling his eyes.

"Come on, we dont have to attened the party. We can spend the rest of the night in our room." You winked opening the door and pulling him out.

~~~~~~

ANNOUNCEMENT: I'm back guys! I've taken some time off trying to get back in the right mind set and trying to get back to being me but I'm back now! I havent even opened the app till last night! But I am back. I am so excited because I am starting some classes tonight (furthering my education) and bettering myself! I am taking requests and asks so please send some in!

~~~~

Tag List:

@high-functioning-lokipath

@serpentargo

@drbaureid

@poetic-fiasco

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@rosaline-black

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@natandersonnla

@delightfulheartdream

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whumpingcrow · 3 years

Text

Pt.18 "Poor Thing"

CW: noncon (explicit, 18+ please), dubcon, blood mention, injury mention, multiple whumper mention, whumpee in a collar, death mention, captivity whump, panic attack, alcohol, verbal abuse, homophobic slur, creepy/intimate whumper, August is pretty foul in this chapter so general warning for him, slight dehumanization (let me know if I missed anything!)

August didn't want Elias anymore. That had to be what was happening. Why else would he not come looking for him, why else was he allowing him to be used up and abused by all these strangers in this room the entire night? It seemed like each time one person came in and did something to him, they would leave and tell someone else, and it felt like it had stretched on for hours, and still August never came looking for him. He felt dirty, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, covered in a sheen of sweat and tears and blood and people's disgusting fluids. His shirt was torn in some places, his shorts riding low on his hips, the only thing that remained perfectly intact was the collar around his neck, which someone had tightened further at some point and he couldn't figure out how to loosen again. August didn't want him anymore, so he was giving him up to be used by whoever else wanted to use him. And that was more painful than anything that had been done to him the last hour or two.

When the door opened again, Elias could have let out an anguished scream, tell them to leave him the absolute fuck alone and suck themselves off or use their left hand, but all he had the energy for was a hopeless flinch. He didn't even want to look up, a fire went shooting up his neck and through his jaw when he moved his head. He closed his eyes when the person approaching crouched down in front of him. Maybe if they saw how tired he was, they would take the hint and leave him alone. Instead, he felt a few slender ice cold fingers wrap around his wrist, slowly lifting his hand away from his body.

"I...I can't," he sniffled weakly, his voice wobbly and far away, "please. Please, I can't." He said it without much conviction, all hope that anyone would be able to understand him was long gone, and so his begging had been reduced to tiny, feeble whines, for the most part.

The person let out a soft hushing sound, then something cool and smooth was pressed into his palm. When he got up the courage to open his eyes, he was surprised to see a glass of water being pushed into his hand. He looked up at the person, at the young woman with wild orange hair and a round face that he couldn't find any outright malicious intent behind. She let go of his wrist, then tipped the bottom of the glass until it fell against his lips. He didn't realize how thirsty he was until the cold liquid hit his parched throat, and he guzzled it down gratefully. It tasted better than anything he'd ever had, he felt tears in his eyes at how grateful he was for it.

"Are you hurt?" She finally asked him. Her accent was heavy, her voice low and silvery. He could openly sob at how kind she was speaking to him, and the fact that it was in English.

"Oh," he breathed, his chin dropping to his chest as he relaxed from the stress that was turning his muscles to stone, "p-please can you find...can you help me find August?" He begged.

"I...I can. But are you hurt? You're bleeding." As she said it, she reached out with the skirt of her dress and wiped away some blood from his mouth.

"I'm ok. Th-think I got slapped a couple times." He took a deep, shuddery breath, then all at once realized she wasn't going to hurt him and he felt an overwhelming relief set in, one that tore a broken sob through his throat. "Oh god. Jesus fuck."

"You're alright. Do you have a name?" She sunk back to a sitting position, one that probably would be considered unladylike in her flowing dress, and watched him carefully. He was confused as to why she was sitting at his level, looking right at him, having spent the last few hours with people towering over him or suffocatingly close on top of him. He saw her eyes flick down to his collar, the tag there, but she didn't say Bunny, she only looked back up at him expectantly and waited for him to answer himself. He loved her at that moment.

"It's Elias." He cried, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears and sweat and grime from his cheeks.

"Ok Elias. My name is Camille." She hesitated for a moment, then readjusted her skirt. "Can I get you anything?"

Elias shook his head quickly, sniffing a few times. "Please don't leave me alone in here," he was rushing, pleading, "someone else will find me, please don't leave me here-"

"Ok, ok," she soothed, "I won't." She shifted a little, glancing up at the door nervously. "You...You’re not supposed to be here, are you? You have somewhere else you call home, right?”

Elias blinked at her, beginning to tremble all over. He thought about the truth, that he only came so that he didn't have to see someone die for the second time, someone that he loved more than anything. Suddenly he couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything, hear anything, besides Tyson crying, bleeding, begging him not to leave, as if he had a choice. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms, but he also knew August wouldn't just leave it at that, he would come back and hurt them both. He wasn’t worth all the pain and trouble, Tyson deserved better.

"I...I want to go home but it's not s-safe." He covered his face with shaking hands, trying to mute his frightened sobs.

"Why isn't it safe, Elias?" Timidly, she leaned forward, rubbing gently at his arm to try and calm him.

"August will hurt me... he'll hurt me and Tyson if I go back home. It's easier if I just stay here." Even as he said it, rushing the words out like he was afraid August would come and hear him speaking ill of him, his shoulders shook with his cries and he could hardly stay sitting upright.

Now Camille was silent, then she quickly pulled him against her chest and held him close, stroking through his unruly hair. The whines of despair he let out made her chest ache with pity, and she couldn't do enough to comfort him. She was so frightened for him, this was beyond what she was used to seeing, a person being kept in this condition. He was so torn up, so traumatized and haunted, and she didn't really want to think about what had been done to him before she found him. She'd heard others mumbling about a new toy in the other room, had heard “pet” thrown around a few times, but she didn't expect a person. And in this state, she could never live with herself if she just left him here.

"Listen to me," she began, using all of her might to keep her tone calm and even, "I'm going to help you. Where's your home?"

He was so tense and rigid in her arms, she could practically feel the conflict he had about telling her, he wanted to leave but he was so afraid, and she could feel his hopelessness starting to drip off of him and soak through her dress and onto her, too. "In Los Angeles," he breathed, "w-with Tyson Banks."

"Ok. I'll find him, and then I'll come back for you. Ok? Can you wait for me?"

He wept again, forcing himself to nod his head. He could wait, if it meant he could get back to Tyson, get home, he could wait.

She pulled away from him then, telling him that she would leave the room so that he could calm down. He felt better when she promised she would wait just outside the door for him, make sure no one would come in to bother him, and he could come to her if he needed anything.

The room was silent for the few moments that Elias was alone, and he could hear the laughter and loud voices of the drunk people through the walls. He couldn't comprehend how any of them could be having such a good time after seeing him in the state he was in now. He guessed that it was different to them, that it felt good to be the one in control, but he still felt baffled by it.

He didn't have much time to dwell on it before the door was swinging open. August stomped in, throwing a bitter look at Camille, who had foolishly just tried to convince him to stay out of the room. He shut the door behind him hard, then approached Elias with his face set in a frown.

"Where have you been?" He grumbled, taking in Elias’s newly disheveled state. "What happened to you?"

His tone was angry, and Elias realized then that August hadn't known what was happening, that what he allowed all of those people to do to him was wrong, and his lungs burned in newfound anxiety.

"I'm s-so sorry, August!" Elias cried, reaching up to grab at August's shirt to try and steady himself. His apology was desperate, despite how he couldn't force it to be very loud. He pulled himself to his wobbly knees with a huff. "I didn't want to do an-any of it but you told me...you told me I was made to be used and they wouldn't listen to me b-b-but I tried I t-"

"Shut up, Eli," August snapped at him, setting him on the edge of the bed and staring at him hard. Elias tried to sit straight, to not look so god damn used up and ugly, but he didn't think there was much he could do to pull that off, his grime felt heavily visible. August's voice was gravelly when he spoke again. "Who did this to you?" He looked over Elias again, shaking his head disdainfully at him when he was still silent, then snapped, "who the fuck did this?!"

Elias flinched, his eyes squeezing shut so he wouldn't have to see the strike he felt was coming. "I don't know! E-everyone! People just kept coming in and...and then when they left more people... I do-dont know!" He froze when August walked toward him, grabbing his shoulders aggressively as he did.

"What did they do?" Now his voice was eerily steady and calm, and he sounded bitterly furious, and Elias was shaking in every inch of his body. "What did they do to you?"

Having to think about it again, about the hands and the noises and the bodies and the constant breathlessness made Elias panicky again, and with an anguished sob he became pliable in August's bruising grip, subjecting himself to any punishment August saw fit. "E...everything." He cried, whimpering at how August's fingers pressed harder into the soft skin of his arms. "I'm s-so sorry!"

When August tossed him to the ground, he couldn't help the loud shriek of pain that he let out. He was already so tired and sore, he couldn't even peel himself off of the carpet once he was down. He felt...broken. Pathetic.

"You really are just a stupid fucking idiot, aren't you?!" August shouted at him, his voice erratic and full of poison. Elias had heard him angry before, sure, but he didn't think he'd ever heard this much fury in his words. He must have really messed up. Terror tightened around his lungs when August crouched down and grabbed the collar with both hands, yanking him forward until their faces were intimidatingly close and Elias could smell the alcohol on August's breath. "Does this mean nothing to you?! You are mine, you pathetic little faggot!"

He should apologize, he knew he should beg and plead and say that he was sorry because he was so disgusting and horrid, but he couldn't get any words out, he couldn't even breathe. He was completely paralyzed, aside from the horrible trembling, blown eyes staring into August's face as tears spilled down his cheeks. With hands at his throat and his windpipe uncomfortably crushed, he felt an icy dread, a realization that he wouldn't be saved this time, this time death would take him and keep him, and he was afraid. That girl, Camille, was going to help him, she said. She couldn't help him if he was dead.

"P...please, August," he finally forced out in a whisper, barely audible. "I-I-I’m so s-sorry, August. I'm y-yours, I know tha-that. Ple-please."

People were still laughing just outside. August was breathing heavily, Elias hardly at all, and for a moment, couldn't have been longer than one thud of Elias's wild heartbeat, August looked just as frightened as Elias felt.

Maybe it was how quiet Elias was, how he could barely get the words out, how horribly he was shaking and utterly unable to do anything to fight back or struggle, or maybe a combination of them all; but something about the way Elias was so pitifully shattered made August just...let go of him, dropping him back to the ground with a deep, tired sigh. He stood up, looking down at Elias as he curled into himself and choked out a few feeble whimpers. He stayed down for a few more moments, then he forced himself back up to his feet with a breathless whine, feeling August's interested gaze on him as he stumbled forward. August was waiting for him to topple over, with how run down he looked. He looked just about on his last leg, like a wounded beyond recovery animal that should be put out of his misery. August was starting to hate himself for selfishly keeping him alive in these conditions. Poor thing.

"They hurt you?" August asked, although his voice was only vaguely interested. Elias ignored the question entirely and instead nestled into August’s chest, not even caring that he didn't reciprocate the touch.

"M'sorry," he sighed heavily, closing his eyes, "s-so sorry, August."

With a disgruntled hum, August moved Elias away from him and started to undo the buttons on his shirt, watching him start to squirm, physically overwhelmed by the fear of being touched anymore than he had already been that night. He was silent, didn't have the means to beg August not to, but his body language practically screamed don't do this to me please no more I can't take it.

"Not gonna do anything, Bunny," August assured him, pulling his ruined shirt off of his slender shoulders carefully, "you're filthy, just gonna clean you off." Now that he was looking him over without the haze of anger over his eyes, he could really see how scared he looked, and he was appalled at himself on Elias's behalf. To be used and hurt and defiled by all those strangers, and here August had wanted to take it out on him, make him think it was his fault. Somewhere in his explanation he mentioned how August had said he existed to be used, he was only doing as he was told, how dare August punish him for that? And he couldn't be too sure, but he did sound remorseful with his apology, like he truly believed he was in the wrong, even though August knew he wasn't. Usually he loved when Elias was apologetic like this, but now it seemed to weigh so heavily on him and it was only depressing and bleak, not tragically beautiful like usual.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper with you," he said grudgingly, stroking Elias’s hair back and out of his face. His fingertips caught in a few knots and tugged just a little, and Elias flinched. "I'm just...I'm pretty drunk and I was upset that you'd disappeared."

Elias winced at the apology, like he couldn't handle the idea that August was in the wrong. "I told them I didn't want to. I said that you wouldn't like it, that I shouldn't, they didn't listen to me-"

"Angel," August cut him off, swiping at the tears on his cheek, "Elias, listen to me sweetheart. You're alright, I shouldn't have reacted that way." Elias whined in response, refusal to accept the obviously misplaced apology written all over his face. August could see the distant storm clouds of panic cycling back across Elias's face, in the way his eyebrows twitched and his eyes darted around the room, blinking furiously.

"N-no, I messed up. I messed up and I'm so fucking sorry I'm so sorry August ple-" before he could escalate back into hysteria, August pulled him into a tight embrace, swaying him side to side slowly. Every now and then a tremor made him collapse further into the hug, and he let out a small, pathetic mewl, and August wondered if it hurt to stand. Instead of asking, he just scooped him up into his arms and took him to the bed, holding him to his chest as he sank down to the mattress.

Because of the way he answered, August wasn't sure exactly what all those people had done to him, but it must have taken quite a toll on him, because within 15 minutes he was asleep, melted against the bed and August's chest heavily. August could feel Elias's fingers twitching slightly as he stroked his fingertips over his skin and through his hair melodically, telling himself it was just to make up for all the harshness of the past few hours, pretending he wasn't enjoying holding him so close and touching him so innocently.

He tried to ignore the buzzing of people just outside for a little longer, pretend that all the intolerable people weren't really there, drinking his booze and messing up his house like they hadn’t just put Elias through hell, but he had to slide out from under Elias eventually to get them to leave. He was glad that there were only a handful of stragglers left, all left with no issue. He poured himself another drink and forced himself to tidy up a little, but he couldn't find the motivation in his drunk, distressed state. Instead he went back to the bedroom, shedding his own clothes with exasperated grunts here and there, surprising himself by not spilling the drink in his hand.

He stopped in the doorway of the second guest room, observing Elias sleeping for a few minutes. He was still in the collar, his frail arms wrapped around himself to replace the warmth that left when August did. He wondered if Elias was really sorry, if he really believed he belonged to August, if any of what he said in his panicked or tortured states were true. He wanted it to be, he wanted his twisted pet to be devoted to him only, to need him, to ache for him, that was the point of all of this, wasn't it?

After he polished off his drink, he crawled slowly on top of Elias, watching him stir just a little before settling back into sleep. He kissed his nose gently, then his cheek, watching his lips twitch slightly when he kissed him there, then he let out a soft hum when August kissed his shoulder. His body was clinging onto sleep still, he probably wasn't even aware of the minuscule sounds he was making every time August's lips pressed into his skin. It was when his mouth was against Elias's rib cage, lapping at the rapid thumping of his heart and the uneven rise and fall of his breath, that he finally woke up, his hands dragging along the sheets until his fingers brushed against August's wrist.

"What are you doing?" He grumbled, his nose wrinkling as he forced himself into consciousness. He blinked a few times, looking fearfully up at August.

“I feel awful about what happened,” August mumbled, trailing his thumb down Elias’s sternum teasingly to his naval, “And I bet you none of those bastards even thought about making you feel good, huh? They all took whatever they wanted and didn’t think twice about you, right?”

A light blush caught on his tired face, and Elias had to tilt his head back because when August was looking up at him, so close, eyes hooded with alcohol and lust, it was too damn hard to look at him head on. He let out a soft sigh, too exhausted to beg August not to keep touching him and talking to him that way. "R...right."

"Poor thing. It's a damn shame, for them," he continued, "they don't know how much fun it is to make you feel good." He ran his palm the rest of the way down his stomach until his fingers latched onto the waistband of his shorts, tugging at them lazily.

"August I-" he began, but he was silenced as August reached up to hold his face. There was no use protesting, there never was. And August had been so unbelievably angry earlier, Elias didn't want to risk setting him off. He had to play it safe, he reminded himself, had to survive until Camille came back for him. He took his bottom lip into his mouth, could taste blood from the busted part of his mouth when he did.

"You can sleep if you want, Bunny. You just lay back and relax, let me take care of you." His finger trailed over Elias's throat, just above the tight collar he still had on, watching him quiver at the touch with a grin. Finally, he offered a reluctant nod, turning his head to the side in a sort of surrender.

August was still drunk, so it didn't take long for his touches to go from trying to make Elias feel better to selfishly toying with him. He had said Elias could sleep, but the closest he got to that was closing his eyes tight and pretending he wasn't awake, or there, or alive at all, feeling tears streaming down his cheeks. August didn't care that he was crying, in face at one point he leaned over and kissed a few of the tears away, whispering something of a lewd compliment in his ear.

Elias tried to convince himself that, despite how it felt, August using him like this was different than the others, better in a way. August knew him, there was some type of affection behind it, something besides sick lust. But even though he wanted to believe that, when his eyes were closed, August was just another body, taking what it wanted, making itself feel good at Elias's expense. Elias wondered if that's all he was, too, just on the other end of the spectrum, he was just a body to be used.

At one point, he really did fall asleep, his body too exhausted to stay awake, even more tired out from struggling against August every now and then. He lay under August, head tilted back and brow furrowed slightly, tiny whines and breathless moans were slipping past his partly opened mouth. August pulled off of him soon after that, pulling the blanket over the both of them, holding Elias close against his chest as he slept. Against his better judgement, he left the collar on, listening to Elias's weak gasps as he tried to breathe around it. He'd slip it off later, he just wanted to enjoy it for a little longer. That was his dynamic with Elias, after all, forcing him through pain and discomfort until it was too much, and then more, just for good measure. Through his drunken haze, August felt pride in his work, in how much he'd broken him down. All of the guilt he felt days ago for how much he'd hurt him was gone then, replaced by a warm and fuzzy fondness. He watched his perfectly trained pet sleep for awhile longer, than eventually the booze carried him into a dark and dreamless rest as well.

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the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff · 3 years

Text

Open your eyes (Chapter 1)

And the madness begins Here you go peeps chapter 1. I’m posting it now because I probably won’t have time during the weekend. I loved writing this one and I hope you enjoy it. Credit for the characters goes to @lumosinlove.

There are mentions of blood and injury in this chapter

@clearsuitcasecookienerd I think you asked me to tag you but i can’t remember so I’m tagging you anyway :))

Masterlist

Remus was going to murder Finn. He read over the letter one more time to check if he hadn’t missed anything, he knew he hadn’t. Remus had probably read and reread that letter about a hundred times since Heather had handed it to him three days ago. It’s contents always saying the same thing. Finn was getting married. His best friend had been courting the crown prince of Hufflepuff for a year and now they were getting married, and Remus was just finding out.

He was happy for Finn, his friend had had his eye out for the blonde prince for years now. That, however, didn’t take away from the fact that Finn had conveniently forgotten to mention he had started courting Leo in any of his letters during the past year. If he thought that would stop Remus from threatening Leo Knut with death if he ever hurt Finn he clearly didn’t know him as well as he should.

Remus put the letter down and picked up a piece of blank parchment, dipping the tip of his quill pen in the black ink. He thought about how he should respond, if he should respond at all. Maybe he should just go home and congratulate Finn in person, right after strangling him for being a complete idiot. Before he could decide on what to do he heard the door to the physician's chamber open, he didn’t need to see who it was to know Sirius was there. He was the only person stupid enough to come into Minerva’s working space without knocking.

“Remus, are you here?” There was a pained edge to his otherwise casual tone that made Remus’s eyebrows furrow in worry.

“One second.” Remus put the quill in the ink pot carefully and stood from his chair. Sirius was sitting in one of the stools when he came out of his room, his left shoulder was bleeding. “Snape needs to calm down”, Remus said in an irritated tone, “that’s the third time he’s injured you this month. And before you say something stupid about how injuries happen, or whatever other nonsense I’m sure is about to come out of your mouth, I want to point out that the injury is on your back and Snape has absolutely no business pointing the sword at your back.” During his rant Remus had gathered what he would need to clean, possibly stitch, and bandage Sirius’s injury.

Sirius flinched when Remus pressed a wet rag to his bleeding shoulder blade. “How did you know it was Snape?” Remus made a noncommittal sound before answering. “Every time you come in here it’s either because you decided it would be ok to not stay up all night to do work or because Snape got aggressive during training.” He paused for a second assessing the damage now that the blood was gone. “And since you aren’t being carried in here passed out cold in Sir Pascal’s arms my guess is it was the latter.” Remus went silent, concentrating in threading the silk string through the needle. He didn’t like stitching when the person was conscious to feel it, but maybe he could do something to help with the pain. He knew using his magic on Sirius was risky, but he didn’t want to cause the prince any extra discomfort.

“You need stitches, just so you know.” Sirius groaned, he hated getting stitches. “Just nod when you’re ready.” Sirius took a deep breath, then nodded slowly, bracing himself for the feeling of metal piercing skin. He winced slightly, but was surprised when he noticed it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

“How come it doesn’t hurt that much?” Remus stayed silent for a moment, concentrating on the repetitive pattern of knitting Sirius’s skin back together, before answering.

“I’m not sure. Maybe the pain from the original cut is numbing this one a little.” Sirius hummed, trying to relax as much as he could. He winced every now and then, but barely felt anything. When Remus was done Sirius let out a heavy breath. “Be careful until that’s healed”, Remus ordered in a stern voice.

“Of course my lord. Anything else.” Remus raised an eyebrow at Sirius, he didn’t appreciate the mocking tone.

“Yes actually. You’re banned from training till further notice.” He took incredible satisfaction in seeing Sirius splutter in indignation.

“You can’t do that.”

“I can and I will.” Remus crossed his arms over his chest and met Sirius’s eyes. “No harsh movements with your shoulder means no training. I will strap you to your bed if I have to, you are not training for at least three days.”

“Fine”, the prince grumbled.

Remus beamed at him. “Great. Now, you’re not dying and I already took care of you so, please leave. I have matters to attend to.”

“Trying to get rid of me, huh?” Sirius feigned hurt. “And here I thought you liked me.”

Remus hummed. “You know I do, But right now I’m trying to stay angry and you being here is not helping.”

Sirius gave him a confused look. “Angry. Why?”

“Because.” Remus threw his hands up in frustration. “Finn sent a letter saying that he’s getting married and I didn’t even know he was courting someone. And since I don’t really have an excuse to go to Gryffindor right now I have to make do with screaming at him through a letter.”

A look of shock crossed Sirius’s features. “Wait. Finn, as in Finn O’Hara. The prince.”

“Yes. My father is a member of the King’s council.” Now it was Remus’s turn to look confused. “He and I grew up together. I thought you knew that.”

“You never told me. How am I supposed to know, I don’t read minds.”

“Obviously”, Remus’s tone took on a bitter edge. “If you did you wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“What do you mean.”

“Mind reading is magic, Sirius. You would be exiled or worse, dead.”

Understanding settled over Sirius like a cold blanket. He didn’t get why Remus sounded so bitter, maybe he didn’t agree with his father’s laws, maybe he knew someone with magic. Sirius did not want to think about sweet, intelligent Remus anywhere near magic or it’s influence. He couldn’t stand to see his boyfriend be corrupted.

“Right. Well.” The silence that followed was uncomfortably tense. Sirius was the first to break it. “Well maybe you could come with the party that’s going to Gryffindor at the end of the week. Minerva has been really occupied with the illness that has taken over the lower town and she won’t be able to go.” Sirius relaxed when he saw the small smile that formed on Remus’s lips. “We need someone that knows their way around medicine.”

“You do know that Gryffindor has physicians, right?” Remus asked, though the smile on his face told Sirius that he was going to go with them regardless.

“I know that.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Father doesn’t want…” he trailed off. Remus got what he wanted to say anyway, the smile slipping from his face. Orion didn’t want the physicians that had magic. The irony almost made Remus snort.

“Right. Magic.” He made sure to keep the bitterness out of his tone this time. “It’ll be nice to go back home. I haven’t seen Jules in three years.”

“Who’s Jules?” Sirius was starting to realize how little he knew about Remus’s life before he came to Slytherin. It made his chest ache.

Remus’s face softened. “My brother. He should be turning sixteen this summer.” His smile turned a little sad. “It’ll be nice seeing him again.”

Sirius didn’t know what to say, or if he should say anything at all, he didn’t know what not having his brother around was like. “It’s a pity Reg won’t be coming. I’m sure he and your brother would have gotten along.”

“They would probably tear the kingdom to shreds, Julian is very chaotic.” Remus’s honey colored eyes shone brightly. “Gryffindor already has to deal with the chaos that is Finn, and I.”

“I want to meet all your friends.”

Remus narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why?”

“What? Can’t I want to meet your friends without any ulterior motives?”

“No”, he responded simply.

“Ok fine it’s because I want the embarrassing stories.” Remus rolled his eyes. “I need teasing material Re. I have nothing on you.”

“Maybe I just don’t do anything embarrassing.”

“That is a big lie and you know it. You trip on air all the time.” Remus glared at him.

“Must I remind you that I can leave you out of knight training for a month.”

Sirius’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Remus crossed his arms, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face. “Try me, sire.” He somehow made the title sound disrespectful, Sirius still didn’t understand how he did it.

“Ok ok. I’ll behave”. Sirius raised his arms up in surrender.

“Good.” Remus grinned at him, leaning on his toes to kiss Sirius, nipping at his lower lip. “Come on.” He grabbed Sirius’s hand and dragged him out into the hallway, dropping it once they could be seen by someone else. They spent the afternoon together. They were joined by Logan at one point. The other knight was excited to go to Gryffindor, apparently he and Finn had become friends during the week leading up to Sirius’s coronation, and had been sending letters back and forth for about a year and a half.

After night had fallen Remus retreated to his room, the letter a distant memory. He passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow, his soft snores the only sound in the room.

~*~*~*~*~*

Two days later they were riding toward Remus’s home country. He was nervous, he hadn’t seen Jules and Thomas in years and last time he saw Finn was two years ago, when Sirius got crowned as heir to the throne. The trip passed him by in a blur. They reached the entrance to the citadel a day and half after departing from Slytherin. By then the nerves had worn off, replaced by a burning excitement. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he had to be careful, but that rarely mattered when he saw his brother, clad in knights armor standing besides Finn and Alex.

He saw Julian’s hand twitch, his caramel colored eyes, darker than Remus’s own, lighting up when he saw him. His face remained stoic, but Remus could tell he was trying to not smile. Besides him Finn studied the crowd, eyes narrowing slightly when he looked at Orion. The King walked down the stone steps to welcome the guests.

He and Orion exchanged pleasantries and soon enough the Slytherin party had entered the palace. A group of maids and servants took care of guiding the guards and knights to where they would be staying for the week, some of them nodding towards Remus or saying hello. Julian waited for the crowd to thin before rushing to hug his brother. Remus gave a startled yelp, wrapping his arms around Julian and holding him close. There were tears shining in the younger’s eyes when they broke apart.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were just an apprentice for Minerva.”

“I am”, Remus answered, “but she couldn’t come. There’s an illness taking over in Slytherin’s lower town.”

Julian frowned slightly. “That’s awful”, he smiled brightly again, Remus keeping up with Julian’s constantly changing emotions with ease. “I’m glad you’re here though.” He pulled Remus in again, hugging him tightly.

Remus heard Finn yell behind them. “Jules, don’t be a Remus hog.”

Julian looked up to where Finn was and yelled back. “He is my brother O’Hara. I will hog him however much I want.” He placed his head just under Remus’s chin, sighing contentedly.

Remus heard footsteps coming up behind him, Finn appearing on his field of vision. “I would hug you. But I think your hands are full.” Julian glared at Finn, grumbling under his breath before settling into his brother’s arms again. Remus chuckled at his baby brother’s antics.

He gave Finn a look that promised trouble. “Finn.” The other man visibly paled. “We’re discussing the letter later.” Finn relaxed a little at the small hint of excitement he could hear in Remus’s voice.

Julian squeezed Remus tighter before letting go, saying he had to get back to training and that he would see his brother at home. Remus looked at Finn who was watching the brothers’ interaction with a fond smile.

“He looks up to you a lot you know.” Finn said. “The little idiot wanted to use daggers. He got so frustrated when he found out that wasn’t his thing.”

“What is his thing then?”

Finn thought about it before answering. “He’s a natural at shooting. Crossbows, knives, bow and arrow.”

“That’s great”, Remus said, a proud glint in his eyes. “He spends a lot of time with you I’m guessing.”

“Yeah. He’s gonna be better than me soon.” Finn sighed. “How do you handle all his energy? I swear even the puppies are less active.”

Remus chuckled. “I don’t handle it. I just let him do his thing until he passes out from exhaustion”, he shrugged, “works like a charm.”

The two of them turned when they heard a squeal. Lily Evans stood near the entrance, her hands covering her mouth. She snapped out of her daze and ran towards Remus. He caught her when she jumped at him, her legs wrapping around his waist. She buried her face on his shoulder, trying to hide the tears that were flowing down her face.

“What are you doing here? When did you get here? Has Jules seen you yet? How long are you staying?”

“I’m here because the Slytherin visitors needed a physician and Minerva couldn’t come. I just got here. Yes Jules already tried to strangle me but your giving him great competition.” Lily let her feet drop to the floor soundlessly, but kept her hold on Remus for a little longer. “Probably going to stay for a week.”

“Gods, that’s not nearly enough time.” She looked up at him with shiny green eyes, moving to be at arm's length with him. “I missed you, the castle isn’t as fun without you to help me pull pranks on everyone.”

Remus laughed, he had missed his friend. “How’s James doing?”

“Oh you know”, she waved a hand around, “the usual. You just missed him actually.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “He went back to Ravenclaw yesterday.”

“Maybe that’s for the best. I can’t imagine what would happen if he were to cross paths with Sirius. That’s either going to be a dangerous friendship or they’ll hate each other.”

She hummed, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the training grounds. “Come on.” He and Finn followed behind her. When they reached the grounds they saw a small group of knights fighting with blunt weapons. Remus noticed that all the sorcerers were conveniently missing from the bunch.

She guided Remus to the armory. “Go get your things. You owe me a fight after last time.” She had begun strapping leather gauntlets on her wrists. He looked around the armory to where he usually left his personal stuff, everything was where he had left it. Someone, probably Lily, had kept his daggers sharpened and polished.

After they put on all of their protective gear, Lily and Remus headed out of the armory and went to the sparring square. “Hey Finn”, everyone stopped what they were doing when they heard Lily’s voice, “mediate for us will you?”

Finn nodded, a grin appearing on his face, and walked to the edge of the square. “You know the rules. One round. First to draw blood wins unless the other yields.”

The rest of the knights had gathered around to watch the fight. Remus stood at one end completely relaxed, Lily mirrored his stance. They studied each other for a moment, waiting for who would strike first. Tense silence had fallen over the square, everyone held their breath, until finally, Lily moved.

The only sound in the clearing was the loud clashing of blades. Lily’s steps were near silent, almost like she were floating above the ground. Remus matched her pace perfectly, able to predict her every move like a well practiced dance. Remus punched her in the stomach making her lose balance, falling to the ground with a small thud. He pointed his dagger at her throat. “Yield”.

Sirius and Logan watched the battle going on in front of them with wide eyes. They had heard the clashing of steel while walking through the castle and went to investigate only to find Remus fighting a red headed girl. His control with the daggers was almost flawless. The girl, who had a knife in her hand and three more strapped to her hips and thighs, battled with deadly precision. She would’ve made a worthy opponent to either of them. She looked at Remus with steely determination, she refused to let him win so easily. If Logan hadn’t been paying such close attention to the battle he would have missed it. Quick as lightning, the red head swiped Remus’s legs from under him, making him fall backwards, his dagger skittering across the ground.

She stood up, holding two knives now, and lunged at Remus. He got up, stumbling over to where his blade had landed. He felt the brush of Lily’s blade against his back, it was nothing but a feather-light touch, but it was enough to warn him of what would come next.

He grabbed the small knife that he kept hidden in his boot and turned, quick enough to meet Lily’s blade. There was fire in her gaze, barely suppressed magic burning under her skin. Remus felt the familiar buzz of his own magic trying to get out, but he kept it down with practiced ease. He felt Lily push harder with her blade, saw her other hand move back to slash at his stomach. He jumped out of the way, landing far enough away that the blade didn’t graze him.

Sirius watched both fighters as they assessed each other with sharp focus, the silence in the grounds was absolute. Remus looked between his dagger laying on the ground and the redhead, he twisted the knife he was holding and smirked. The girl smiled brightly, eyes sharp. Sirius couldn’t figure out who would win, Remus’s usual clumsy self was gone and in its place stood a skilled warrior.

They met in the middle of the square, the girl’s twin blades blocking Remus’s attack. She pushed back with enough force to make him stumble, before he could get too far she jammed the butt of her knife into Remus’s ribs making him double over in pain. She tripped him, making him fall back again, pinned his hands down at his sides with her knees and put the edge of her blade to the base of his neck. “Yield.”

Remus’s glare in that moment would have made any man tremble, but the girl seemed unaffected. She put a little more pressure on the blade. “Yield, Remus.”

He looked at her face for a moment. Whatever he was looking for he must have found, all the fight left him in a gust of air. “I yield.” The crowd erupted into cheers.

The girl nodded, sheathing her knives and standing up. Remus took her offered hand and stood up, punching her shoulder lightly. She said something to him that made him laugh brightly, the hostile energy between them seemingly gone as fast as it had appeared.

Remus locked eyes with Sirius from across the field, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips. He tapped the girl on the shoulder and pointed towards him and Logan. She said something to him and he nodded before walking over, the girl and another red headed boy walking behind him. Sirius recognized the other man as Prince Finn O’Hara.

“Did you know Remus could do that.” Logan sounded as surprised as Sirius felt. Sirius shook his head, unable to form words.

“Hey guys.” Remus sounded a little breathless, but seemed otherwise unaffected by the fight.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us Re?” The girl’s tone was teasing, but her eyes were looking at Sirius like she was trying to figure out his next move.

“Right. Sorry.” Remus coughed loudly. “This is Lily. Lily this is Prince Sirius Black.”

The girl extended her hand in greeting. Sirius shook it. “Please, call me Sirius. No titles unless we’re in my father’s presence.” Lily looked at him with an unreadable expression. She nodded and squeezed his hand lightly before letting go. Sirius felt like he had just passed some sort of test.

“And this”, he pointed to the other red head behind him who was smiling at Logan, “is Prince Finn O’Hara.” He looked at Logan. “I believe the two of you have met before.” Sirius thought he saw a small blush appear on Logan’s cheeks.

Finn’s nose scrunched up. “It’s so weird to hear you using my title.”

“That was a great fight”, Logan praised, “why didn’t you tell me you could do things like that. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting a sparring partner.”

Sirius made an indignant sound. “I’m standing right here Tremblay.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know how to use daggers. You almost cut your hand off the one time you tried.”

Remus looked at Sirius with a disbelieving look, while Lily and Finn tried not to laugh. “You did what?”

“He’s exaggerating.”

Logan glared at him. “Really? Because the way I recall it you cut your palm open when the grip slipped.”

A few giggles escaped Lily before she could stop them. She took a breath to try and calm down before speaking. “Let me guess, he tried to handle the dagger like he would a sword.” At Logan’s nod she sighed disappointedly. “Typical.”

“He never bothered learning how to use them properly afterwards.”

Remus looked at Sirius, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Well, there’s no time like the present.”

Sirius made a distressed noise. “No. Remus I can’t.”

“Don’t worry”, Finn interjected, “Remus and Lily are the best. Besides, Jules will probably want Remus to teach him the basics. You can be his sparring partner.” As if on cue, Julian appeared at Finn’s shoulder, startling him. “I’m putting bells on your feet.”

Julian giggled, “Sorry.” He moved to stand besides Remus and leaned against his brother, eyes shining with excitement. “You’re going to teach me?” Remus nodded, giving Sirius a look that made him cave in.

“Alright”, Sirius’s shoulders slumped in defeat, “I’ll try the daggers out.” Sirius smiled weakly at Julian, who was beaming at him and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Finn grabbed Logan’s wrist and guided him inside to explore the castle, leaving Sirius and Remus with Lily and Julian. Remus chuckled when Lily looped her arm through Sirius’s and dragged him away, he turned back to look at his boyfriend with a pleading expression. Remus shrugged, leaving Sirius to his luck and Lily’s mercy.

“Is he going to be ok?” Julian asked.

“Yeah.” Remus answered dismissively, putting his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. “Let’s go home.” The two brother’s walked away from the training grounds and headed to the citadel, laughing and shoving at each other playfully. They were both gasping when they reached their house.

They walked in, Julian signaling for Remus to stay quiet and go hide before announcing his presence. “Hi mom.”

“Hey honey. How was your day?” Came Hope Lupin’s from the general direction of her office followed by the soft sound of footsteps.

“It was great. You’ll never guess who I found.”

She came into the room and Remus had to hold himself back from coming out of his hiding spot and running into her arms. “Are you going to tell me who it was or am I going to have to start naming people?”

A soft gasp escaped her lips when she saw Remus emerging from where he had been hiding. “Surprise”. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, resting his cheek on top of her head. She smiled brightly when they separated, a fond look on her eyes. His father entered the room a few moments later, pulling him into a tight hug. There was bright laughter and teary smiles that left a warm feeling in Remus’s chest. They spent the afternoon catching up, laughing and joking like they used to before Remus left for Slytherin.

Hours later, after Jules had fallen asleep with Calliope curled around his shoulders, Remus went into his old room. Everything was the same, the bed sheets had been cleaned and his mess had been organized, but everything else remained the same. His eyes flashed gold, lighting up the candles and stirring the stale air of the room gently. He sighed tiredly, crawling into bed and burying himself under the soft covers, a content smile on his face.

He thought about Sirius, he wanted to show him everything. All the places where he had spent hours reading or spending time with Finn, the place where he had met Thomas, where he and Lily used to spend time practicing their magic. He knew Sirius couldn’t know about his abilities, maybe someday he could show him, but for now he wanted to share his home with him. Home was everything Remus loved.

Home were his friends, his family, his magic. Sirius.

*~*~*~*~*

Two days later Remus found himself alone with Sirius back at the training grounds. Sirius frowned in frustration, trying to make some sense out of what Remus had told him to fix about his technique. He looked to the side, where his boyfriend was standing, staring at him with an amused glint in his eye. “I don't understand why I can’t just use my sword”, Sirius whined, “I’m already good at that.”

Remus gave him an exasperated glare, Sirius still caught the amused twitch of his lip. “Because, weapon versatility is one of the most important attributes a warrior could have.” He grabbed Sirius’s hand, a small smirk tugging at his lip, and pulled him close. “And, daggers are better when it comes to close range fights.”

“Is that so?” Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. “And, do tell, why would I want to use a weapon that requires me to get that close.”

Remus shrugged, using the motion to slip the small blade from the sheath at his thigh and letting his hand hang at his side, the point of the dagger clutched lightly between his fingers. “I guess you’re right, but what if you don’t get to choose your range, m’lord?”

Before he could answer Remus flicked the blade into the air and knocked Sirius feet from under him in one smooth motion. He straddled his hips, catching the dagger, the leather grip landing on his palm, and pressing its razor sharp edge to the side of Sirius’s throat with barely there pressure.

“Like say, someone catching you unawares and pointing a very sharp deadly object to a very”, he leaned in to whisper in Sirius ear, making a shiver run down his spine, “very vulnerable part of your body.” He took the dagger away from Sirius’s neck replacing it with his lips in a feather light kiss that made Sirius melt a little under him. He stood up gracefully, offering his hand to Sirius who was still slightly dazed. “Come on”, he pulled him up with a grunt, “let’s get back to work.”

Sirius stared at him, heat spreading through his neck up to his cheeks. “You expect me to concentrate. After that.”

Remus looked at him with an innocent expression. “After what, sweetheart.”

“N-Nothing. Work right. Let’s get back to work.”

Remus giggled, shaking his head fondly and walking to the other side of the training grounds, ignoring his boyfriend’s questions. He had asked Lily to come help him with Sirius’s training, she had a talent for teaching even the most stubborn students. Ha saw her coming out of the armory with her knives strapped to her legs and a pair of blunt daggers.

“How’s my student doing?” She asked, walking besides him back to where Sirius was watching them with a weary expression.

“He’s fine. I was just showing him why he should learn how to hold his own with short range weaponry.” She gave him a skeptical look. He just batted his eyelashes at her in faux innocence, she shoved his face away with her palm making him laugh loudly.

“What did you do?” They were close enough that Sirius could hear their conversation.

“I just did the same thing you did to James when he tried to show off. Back when he was a pining mess and trying to win your affection.”

She hummed. “Good”.

“I learned from the best.” They stopped in front of Sirius. Remus gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked back to the entrance that led to the palace. “He’s all your Lils. I expect him back in one piece.”

“Yeah yeah”, she waved dismissively, “I won’t kill your man. Now go, you’re distracting him and Jules is waiting for you.”

Lily turned to look at Sirius, a smirk on her lips. He swallowed nervously, back straightening slightly. “Now the real fun begins.” She tossed the blunt blades at him, he fumbled with them for a moment, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Don’t look at me like that Black, I’m not torturing you.”

“Remus couldn’t teach me how to do this properly. I’m no good.”

She grabbed his face between her palms, staring into his eyes with a steady look. “Don’t say that. I’m here because I’m the best at this and because you’re my friend.”

“But what if that’s not enough?” He sounded defeated, shoulders dropping.

“I’m the one who taught Remus how to aim a knife properly. And I can assure you he was much worse at that than you are at this.” Her hands dropped to his shoulders, pushing them back gently so he was standing straight. “Chin up, your highness. Everyone has to start somewhere, and there’s no time like the present.”

*~*~*~*~*

Logan walked to the library with his heart in his throat. Seeing Finn again after so long had been wonderful and painful at the same time. It hurt to know that the man he loved had fallen for someone else, but it was worse, because Logan had also fallen for the man Finn described in his letters.

Leo had no face for Logan, no body, no voice, no features. And yet he had crawled into Logan’s heart and settled there, at least the idea of him had. The man that Finn described with such love and adoration was someone Logan wanted, he wanted Finn, too.

He wanted to put a face to the idea and see if he could still love Leo the same. He at least wanted to put a face to the man that had won his affection without uttering a single word. Logan didn’t know Leo, he knew of Leo, but that was enough. Enough for him to fall so deeply so fast, the problem was that there was no one to catch him when he eventually met the ground.

He opened the doors to the library soundlessly and walked inside, halting when he saw Finn, lying on one of the vibrant red couches, fast asleep, book clutched to his chest. The sight made him melt a little, he wanted to kiss the other boy awake, wanted to wrap him up in a hug, but he knew he couldn’t. So he settled for taking the book from Finn’s grasp, draping one of the blankets that were kept there over him gently, watching him shift to nuzzle the soft fabric with his cheek before settling again.

He ran his hand through Finn’s auburn curls softly, a small whisper of I love you leaving his lips in a breath, and then he was gone. Leaving the library and part of his heart behind.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the third day of their visit to Gryffindor Snape came into the physician’s chamber looking like he had lost a fight with a rabid animal. He had cuts going down his left arm and a bruised collarbone. Remus had seen Snape trying, and failing, to flirt with Lily a few times during their stay at the palace and it appeared she had gotten fed up with his attempts. Remus barely suppressed a laugh and motioned for the night to sit down, turning around to look for the things he would need and so that Snape wouldn’t see him grinning.

Remus had to fight down a smirk when he heard Snape hiss, the pressure of the wet rag making his arm sting. The cuts from Lily’s knives were still fresh, but no longer bleeding. The knight muttered an insult under his breath that made Remus rub the tender skin none too gently. The man winced, shoulders tense, but remained silent.

A servant approached them cautiously, eyeing Snape like one would a wild dog. She lifted her gaze to look at Remus, a little of the apprehension leaving her eyes. He finished bandaging Snape’s arms. “I’d suggest you lay off training for today.” The knight rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway, leaving Remus alone with the serving girl.

Once they were alone she spoke up. “There’s a messenger from Slytherin at the entrance asking for King Orion.”

A crease of worry appeared between his eyebrows. “Did they say why?”

The girl shook her head. “He just said that the King needed to head back immediately. I suppose he’ll explain more to his highness than he did to me.”

“Lord Orion is in the Council chamber discussing some things with the king. Can’t it wait until that’s over?”

“I don’t think so”, she answered, “he looked worried. I don’t think they would send someone if it wasn’t urgent.”

“Thank you for telling me.” She bowed her head slightly. “Please tell this messenger to wait for me outside the Council chamber.” She gave another small bow and walked out the door.

Remus followed behind her, turning to go to the library where he knew Logan and Sirius would be. He tried to think of any reason why the council would send someone to retrieve the king from such an important trip, but he came up with nothing. The only thing he could think was that someone had tried to take over, but that didn’t seem like it was it.

“If you think any harder your brain is going to melt.” Remus jumped at the voice, he hadn’t heard someone approach him, too lost in thought to sense his surroundings.

“Hey, Alex. Kasey.”

The man fell into step besides him, his manservant following a few steps behind them, listening to their conversation in silence. “Something’s worrying you.” Alex looked at him with an unreadable expression. “This has something to do with that messenger right?”

“How do you even know about that already?”

Alex shrugged. “I have my ways.” He looked at Kasey with a smile. “So.” He turned back to Remus. “What’s wrong.”

“I'm not sure”, Remus sighed. “Something happened. Bad enough that the council decided to call the king back knowing he could be about to enter into an alliance with your father.” They reached the entrance to the library. “That’s all I know. I need to get Logan and Sirius to the council chamber, the other knights are probably being notified and should be preparing to leave.”

Remus pushed the doors open, silent chatter feeling his ears. “Sirius”, he walked inside, “are you here.”

“At the fireplace,” came Sirius’s voice from deeper in the room. “The others are here too”

He sighed, walking to where his boyfriend was sitting, surrounded by Lily, Finn, and Logan. He looked at them with a weary expression, motioning for his friends to follow him. “We have to go.”

“Why”, worry seeped into Logan’s tone, “what’s going on.”

“A messenger arrived earlier today asking for King Orion and his party. He says that they’re needed back in Slytherin.”

Logan looked at the redhead. “I’m sorry, but who are you and how do you know that?”

“Apologies, my name is Alex. I’m Finn’s brother. And, like I told Remus, I have my ways of knowing things.”

“Stop smirking like a smug idiot and lead the way,” Finn stood up, the rest following behind. “We have somewhere to be.”

They all walked down to the Council chamber where a boy was standing, looking at the doors with terrified eyes. He nodded nervously when he saw them, stepping back and vowing deeply. The guards bowed to Finn and Alex and opened the doors, cutting off the conversation going on inside the room.

“Father”, Alex bowed, “an urgent message was sent to King Orion.”

“And who has sent this message?” Orion’s voice was ice cold.

Alex held the man’s piercing stare. He motioned for the boy to step forward, encouraging him to speak up. “I did, m-m’lord.” The boy bowed. “There’s a s-situation that requires your immediate attention.”

“And this situation”, the king’s voice remained calm, the boy shivered at the cold tone, “it couldn’t wait?”

“No, sire”, the boy’s voice shook. “I-It’s prince Regulus.” He took a deep breath. “He’s gone.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The ride back to Slytherin was quiet, tense. Orion hadn’t said a word since they had departed and it didn’t seem like he would. Something had changed about him. His face betrayed no emotion, as always, but everyone could tell something was different.

They reached the Citadel in the evening two days later. The King strode inside the castle and into the Council chamber, leaving his horse behind for some stable boy to take care of.

Sirius stared after him with an unreadable expression. Remus took his hand in his, making sure no one was looking at them. “Let’s go.” He nodded, squeezing Remus’s hand before letting go and walking through the palace entrance, his boyfriend following close behind.

The prince fell into Remus’s arm, silent sobs racking his body and making him shake. He held him until Sirius was too exhausted to do anything more than walk to his bed and letting himself drop on the soft mattress, pulling Remus down and hugging him tightly, burying his face in the soft fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt.

They said nothing. It had been two long days of unsaid words and silent reassurance when they were alone. Sirius stayed in his boyfriend’s arms, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. Trying to ignore the fact that his brother was gone, missing, and no one knew what to do. “What do you think about everything?” He asked softly, words muffled by Remus’s shirt.

“It was a targeted attack. Someone knew we would be gone.”

Sirius nodded. “I don’t want to jump into conclusions”, he took a steadying breath, “but is it possible this was done by a sorcerer?”

Remus wanted to say no. That there had to be another explanation, but he couldn’t find any. Regulus had disappeared without a trace, his room was completely intact, there was no sign of struggle anywhere and no one had seen him going out or anyone coming in. “It’s possible”, was the only answer he could give him. It seemed to be enough for now. They lapsed into silence, night had already fallen. No one came looking for Sirius, there was no reason to disturb the prince when they didn’t know anything.

Remus ran his hands through his love’s hair, eyes flashing golden. The other man gave a small content humm, falling asleep minutes later, an almost peaceful sleep. A small trick Leo had taught him, if the mind feels safe it’s easier to fall asleep. So he let his magic flow through his fingers, let it envelop Sirius in as much warmth and love as he could muster. It was dangerous, he knew that, but when the love of his life was suffering he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Another flash of his eyes and all the candles went out. Remus almost felt sorry for whoever had dared take his friend, hurting his boyfriend in the process. Almost.

#Open your eyes #logan tremblay #remus lupin #sirius black #finn o'hara #julian lupin #lily evans #orion black #regulus black #lumosinlove #cw: mentions of blood and injury

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goulets · 3 years

Text

Heartland

Chapter: 3/8 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Colin Wilkes, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas Rating: T (for now) Case Fic / Kid Fic a03 link

The library has its benefits: no harassment from over-familiar family members, no Dick sexually frustrating him within an inch of his life, and, if he’s willing to be a little sentimental, he kind of does want to show it to the baby. She’s too young to appreciate it, probably, but it stirs something in him to share it with her all the same. He’s heard it’s never too early to get kids into reading - his parents sure as hell never tried, but Jason had read anything he could get his hands on, once he learned how. It had saved him, back then. Maybe it can do the same for her one day.

“Could’ve sworn Bruce had a Dr. Seuss anthology somewhere in here,” he says to her, combing over the shelves with his eyes. “Guess not. You up for something more sophisticated?”

She grunts, squeezing his shirt in her fist. “Alright,” he agrees, pulling Twelfth Night off the shelf. “Shakespeare it is. You’ve got taste, kid.”

***

(dick)

Venice is a nightclub that has gone by many names during its Gotham tenure, and just as many owners. Dick has been undercover here at least twice, back when the club was catering to the wealthier patrons of Little Italy. The current management clearly hasn’t bothered with maintaining that exclusivity - the building is now shabby and outdated, even for this neighborhood. One thing that hasn’t changed, though, is the real draw of Venice, which is the illegal casino in the back rooms beyond the VIP lounge. Through all the club’s owners, the casino has always been run by the Falcones, and always frequented by the city’s most morally flexible elected officials. In the past four nights that Dick’s been staking the place out, he’s seen five judges, two city council members, and even the new police commissioner slipping out the back door into the alley, stinking of gin and cigar smoke and patting their coat pockets with an air of satisfaction. It’s good intel to have, Barbara’s told him. Always helpful to keep the files updated on who’s being bought and by whom. None of that really makes him feel better about the fact that he’s been staking this place out for four nights and still hasn’t managed to pin down their actual target.

It’s embarrassing, is what it is. He’s Nightwing, for God’s sake. He’s taken down whole Russian mobs in Bludhaven, and now he’s being completely eluded by a third-string Falcone no one’s even heard of.

Oracle had ID’d the doer of the Torres/Howard murders in a matter of hours, true to her word, and the ballistics had predictably matched up with a few other murders that the police never bothered investigating. Susanna “Susie” Falcone, a second cousin once removed with a rap sheet that puts many of her relatives to shame. Her name must still have some pull in political circles, because she’s only done time once, in spite of being indicted almost a dozen times. Gotta love good old fashioned judicial corruption, Jason had said. No one had been able to argue, looking at the number of charges dismissed.

All in all, it was supposed to be a fairly simple tag-and-bag. Once they’d found her place of work - officially, the Venice nightclub, unofficially, the family casino - he’d been tasked to track her, question her, and then turn her in to the police. He’d chosen his stakeout perch well, on a hotel roof high above the alley, he’d followed her, unseen, and so far, she’s given him the slip every freaking time. The woman has vanished through every doorway from here to Robinson Park, as only the most enterprising criminal can. Were this a different kind of case, Dick might have been impressed.

Instead, he’s annoyed, and having to compromise - his vantage point is lower, closer but more exposed in the thin shadows of a third story construction platform right above the alley. He can see the door to the club without any difficulty, but the moment he moves, he’ll be open to attack.

He’ll just have to move fast. Fortunately, that’s what he’s best at.

There’s a soft motion behind him, almost quiet enough to escape his notice entirely. It’s Jason - Dick hadn’t expected him to actually turn up. No doubt he’s here to make sure they finally succeed in catching their mark tonight, but he’s been so adamant about not leaving Danielle with anyone except Dick that it’s still a surprise to see him. What’s equally surprising to Dick is that he was apparently hoping Jason would show, if the relief he feels at seeing him is anything to go by.

It’s a nice moment of solidarity, until Jason opens his mouth. “So, fourth night’s a charm, huh?”

Dick bristles. “What happened to not leaving the baby?” he retorts.

Jason bristles back, but doesn’t rise to the bait. It’s a little wrongfooting - a reminder that things are changing between them. Dick is used to the veneer of antagonism that hangs over his relationship with Jason, the unresolved tension they both pretend not to notice. They’d gotten into a pretty good groove when he was acting as Batman, staying out of each others’ way for the most part, and working together when necessary. Dick’s pretty sure Jason doesn’t actually harbor any murderous feelings towards him, just like he doesn’t actually hate Bruce, no matter what he says.

“The girls and Alfred ganged up on me,” Jason says, leaning back against the scaffolding. “Whatever. I needed to get the hell out of there anyways. I don’t know how you stand being around them all so much.”

Dick laughs. “They’re not as interested in me,” he admits. “I’m not the cool sibling.”

Jason doesn’t respond right away. It's hard for Dick to tell, when he’s wearing the helmet, but he thinks Jason is probably waiting to see if Dick is joking. It’s another way things have shifted between them - Jason’s holding back, not jumping straight to lashing out, like he used to. It should be a good thing - it is a good thing, but it’s throwing him off balance all the same. He feels like he's spent most of the past several days looking for Jason, even when Jason is right in front of him. He’s used to trying to find the Jason he knows - or knew - the Jason who was taken away from him. Now there’s a new Jason, a Jason he’s still getting to know. Dick can’t choose between them, can’t decide which one he wants to find every time he looks at him. Maybe that’s why he can’t seem to find his one lousy mafia shooter.

“Looks like the cops are covering up the ballistics report on Reynolds,” Jason says, after a moment. “Go figure.”

Dick frowns. “Just Reynolds?”

Jason grunts. “Hold on. What.”

Dick turns to look at him.

“Did you burp her?”

Oh, Dick realizes, he’s on the comm. Someone back at the Manor must have pinged him on a private line.

“Then get Alfred to do it.”

It’s curious that the ballistics on Cy Reynolds’ murder are the ones being suppressed, Dick thinks. He was the only one killed with a submachine gun - the bullets from most of the other crime scenes had come from a standard Beretta APX, and the object of his stakeout, Susie Falcone, had used a Glock on Danielle’s parents. The Glock matched a few other shootings, the Beretta matched none. None of that is particularly noteworthy - after all, Susie is a criminal, and Beretta shell casings are a dime a dozen at any mob shooting.

“Fine. I’ll check back in five. If you asswipes don’t pick up, I’m coming back there.” Jason makes an aggravated noise in the back of his throat, which Dick takes to mean he’s hung up.

“Everything OK?”

“Just peachy. By some cosmic fucking joke, I’m the only person in the family who can get the baby to take a damn bottle. I told her they just need to burp her, but I guess that’s too complicated a task for a family of genius detectives,” Jason grumbles. “I knew I shouldn’t have left her. Shit.”

“Jay, relax. She’s fine.” Dick can’t help but grin at him. It’s honestly sweet, the way Jason and the baby have gotten attached to each other. Dick likes to think he’s her second favorite, but it’s pretty hard to tell. No matter who’s holding her, she’s always looking at Jason, and Jason never stops looking at her.

“It’s fucking cold out here,” Jason says mulishly.

Dick raises an eyebrow. “I noticed. It’s April, not August. If you really want to go back, I’m not gonna stop you.”

“I don’t…” Jason sighs. “Look, I’m here, okay? You bungled this grade school op three nights in a row, so congrats, you triggered the bat buddy system. If I leave and you fuck it up again, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Dick supposes it’s his turn not to rise to the bait. “Fair enough,” he says easily, turning around to face the alleyway again. “What were you saying about the ballistics on Reynolds?”

“Oh, Oracle ran the bullets through Interpol. Turns out our ill-fated gang boss was offed by one of Carmine Falcone’s personal weapons. The record’s been scrubbed from US databases, but Babs had a hunch.” Jason sounds impressed.

“Been scrubbed meaning...there was a record,” Dick follows, “and some people might still remember, if they saw the bullets. Hence the coverup.”

“Yup. Hence the coverup.”

“Could explain what the commissioner was doing here the other night,” Dick muses.

Jason snorts derisively. “See, this is what I hate about the mafia. They’re so goddamn predictable. Kill the competition, pay off the cops, around and around forever. It’s so pedestrian.”

Dick laughs. “You’d rather deal with Clayface?”

“Fuck yes I would. Clayface has flair, you know? Anybody can be a mobster, shit.”

Jason has started shifting with agitation, or maybe impatience. Either way, their vantage spot isn’t hidden enough for him to be moving around. “Get low if you’re gonna be twitchy,” Dick tells him. “Or if you’re gonna have a cigarette, but I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“Lucky for you I quit then,” Jason says, crouching down next to him. “I’m not jonesing, I’m just fucking cold.”

“We could huddle together for warmth,” Dick jokes, grinning unabashedly when Jason’s helmet fixes him with a death glare. “Wait, you quit smoking? When?”

“When I started taking care of a baby, obviously.” Jason goes still, suddenly. “Is that her?”

The door to the alleyway opens, and they both tense - but it’s just a man, a bodyguard, by the looks of him. Close-cropped blonde hair, early 40s, used to throwing his weight around. Feeling there’s something familiar about him, Dick nudges Jason and motions for him to take a photo. Jason starts almost imperceptibly at the contact, but follows suit. They both hold perfectly still in the shadows as the man looks around, glances in a cursory way along the rooftops, and then sets off down the alley towards the street.

“I know him,” Jason mutters. “From Tim’s case files - he was with Intergang.”

Dick doesn’t say anything about Jason calling Tim by name, but it’s a welcome development. “Looks like he switched sides, if he’s hanging out here.”

“Wonderful,” Jason says. “All right, I’m gonna check on the kid again.”

Dick represses the urge to give him a shoulder squeeze, or ruffle his hair. It’d probably result in him getting shoved off the platform, but Jason’s being so....not different, because Dick’s always known that this Jason was still in him, somewhere. Always hoped, anyways. When Jason had been younger and acted like this, surly with his words but tender with his actions, Dick had always thought of him as cute. It’s like that now, too, except it’s not just cute, because Jason has several inches and at least two weight classes on him. It’s cute in a different way, an adult way. It’s cute in a way that makes Dick want to push harder against Jason’s armor, to catch as many glimpses of that side of him as he can. If he thinks about it too long, it’s cute in a way that makes him want, recklessly.

“Red Hood to Batgirl,” Jason says. He’s calling on the family line this time. “Give me an update.”

“You’re seriously a helicopter parent, you know that, Hood?” Steph laughs in Dick’s ear. “We figured it out. Well...Black Bat figured it out.”

Jason’s shoulders sag a little in relief. Cute, Dick thinks, involuntarily. He needs to get a grip. “About fucking time.”

“She prefers being propped up,” Cass says. “It helps her swallow.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier. And she likes her back straight.”

“You said none of that, actually,” Steph says. “You just told us to support her head. Which we have been, thank you very much.”

“You have her now?”

“Robin has her.”

Dick and Jason look at each other. Jason says, “What the fuck?”

“Right?” Steph sounds amused. “I was surprised too....his friend is here, that ginger kid? He’s the one that took her from the orphanage, right?”

“Batgirl, I swear to god, if anything happens to her - ”

“Oh, calm down, jeez,” Steph groans. “They’re being supervised, okay? It’s honestly precious, you would agree with me if you could see it. I’ll text the pictures to N.”

“Please do,” Dick says. Speaking of cute, in a way that’s much safer to think about.

“Go do your job now,” Cass tells them. “We’re handling it.”

“Yeah, what she said. Batgirls out.”

“Feel better?” Dick asks, after a moment.

“Don’t ask me that,” Jason grouses. “And show me those pictures when you get them.”

Dick grins. “Sure, Jay.”

“Ugh.”

Dick decides to change the subject, before Jason gets too antsy and tries to bail. “So how do you want to play this, when Susie shows?”

Jason points to a dumpster halfway down the alley. “We wait until she’s there. I’ll get the club door, put a taser on it to stop her getting back in or anyone else from coming out. You cut her off before she gets to the street, and we question her on the backside of the dumpster. I’ll take line of sight, since I’m packing.”

Dick nods. “So is she.”

“So is every goon in those back rooms, sure. That’s why we lock their asses in.”

“And if they come out the front?”

Jason spins a gun in his hand. “Rubber bullets do the job just fine if you know how to aim. Let me worry about the backup.”

Another thing that’s changed about Jason - or that hasn’t changed, depending on how far back Dick looks. He uses rubber bullets now, whenever he’s working a case with one of them. Supposedly it’s a stipulation from Bruce, but Jason didn’t use lethal force on the couple cases he and Dick worked together, either, back when Dick was wearing the cowl. Dick thinks Bruce just gave him an excuse - whatever bloodlust Jason was fueled by when he first came back to Gotham has long since dried up. There are still things that set him off - Barbara had informed them about a dead rapist in the Narrows just last month - but Bruce hadn’t even commented on it, besides the barest acknowledgment. Dick thinks he might be the only one that actually cares when Jason kills someone, anymore. And what’s really disturbing is that he’s not actually sure how much he cares. For instance, he knows Jason has a third gun, holstered under his jacket, loaded with live ammo. He could call Jason out on it, insist he ditch it or at the very least unload it.

He says nothing. Let me worry about the backup. If this mission ends in a massacre, Dick will only have himself to blame.

The door opens again, and out steps Susie Falcone.

She immediately looks around, staying still in the doorway for a minute or more. Dick is pretty sure she hasn’t seen him following her, but he’s familiar with the sensation of being watched. He and Jason both shrink further into the shadows, waiting for her to make a move.

The whole process takes about six seconds. The moment she gets a few paces into the alley, they drop down. Jason electrifies the door handle, and Dick outmaneuvers her easily, slapping his police-issue cuffs on her and kicking her gun aside, then spinning her into the wall behind the dumpster. She hits it with a grunt. By the time she’s glaring at him, Jason is at his side again.

“Nightwing and Red Hood?” she says. “Damn. Didn’t expect to see you fellas out here.”

She doesn’t seem scared of them. Dick guesses they’ll have backup coming their way soon.

“Hey, what do you know,” Jason says conversationally, picking up the gun and emptying the clip in one swift motion. “Nightwing, I do believe this is our Glock.”

“Not mine,” Susie objects. “Picked it up off the club floor.”

“Come on, Susie, you’re smarter than that.” Jason crosses his arms. “Look, I can appreciate a sensible weapon. The Berettas the rest of your family favors? Too flashy for me. I loved Sopranos as much as the next guy, but come on.”

Dick suppresses a laugh. “Thought you were a Sig man,” he says in an undertone. He hadn’t expected Jason to take the lead, but it’s working. Susie looks agitated at the mention of her family.

“Wow, stalker. Remind me to move safe houses,” Jason quips back. “Aw, look, she slipped your cuffs.”

There’s a taser in Susie’s newly freed hand, and Dick quickly sidesteps it, twists it out of her wrist and sends it clattering down the cobblestones of the alley. Jason sweeps her legs out from under her and knocks her down flat, maybe a little harder than Dick would’ve. Thankfully, she goes down without a fight.

“Let’s try this again,” Dick says, kneeling next to her and zip-tying her wrists. If he wasn’t sure before, he is now - she was expecting them. They won’t be alone for long. He throws a couple smoke pellets down to the ends of the alley, and clips a nearly invisible wireless mic to the shoelaces of her boot under the guise of patting her down.

“You’re obviously not surprised to see us, so just tell us what we want to know,” Jason tells her, squatting down. “I’ll be honest, I don’t really give a shit that you shot Big Mouth, but what did Linda Torres ever do to you?”

“Let me up,” Susie snarls.

“No. Talk, or I’ll give you a taste of that taser you tried to pull on us.”

“Hood,” Dick hisses.

“See? He knows I’ll do it. Save yourself the grief, Susie.” Jason points the barrel of his gun lazily at her temple.

Susie narrows her eyes. “Fine. The two of them robbed me, last September. Dumb motherfuckers didn’t know who they were messing with. But I let them live because the bitch was pregnant.”

Jason makes a noise of disbelief. “Oh, sure. You’re a real bleeding heart, is that it?”

“Like you’re any better,” Susie fires back.

“You said you waited on Linda because she was pregnant,” Dick says. “Why’d you wait to kill Big Mouth?”

Susie’s mouth twists. “Guess I just felt like it.” Dick doesn’t need to see the tension in her shoulders to know she’s lying.

“Strike two.” Jason clicks the safety off. “Who put the hits out?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Susie answers. “I’m dead if I talk, so pistol whip me if you want to. Here’s the God’s honest truth: I really didn’t need a reason to kill those assholes. I was out for ‘em anyways. But I’m not crazy enough to kill a baby, all right? I don’t need shit like that on my conscience.”

“Keep talking,” Jason growls. Dick hears the whoop of a siren a few blocks off. “Where’s the baby now?”

“Somewhere safe, I swear. If anybody comes for her, it won’t be me.”

Susie still thinks Danielle’s at the orphanage, then. That’s good for them, but potentially bad for all the other kids, Colin included. These guys clearly have no problem killing children, even if Susie won’t do it.

The sirens are getting closer. Someone inside must’ve called the cops. Dick motions to Jason, indicating they need to wrap things up.

“Who is coming for her,” Jason barks, every line of his body a threat. “You’ve got five seconds.”

“You don’t.” Susie looks triumphant. They can hear the shouts of police from behind the smoke. “But don’t worry, boys. You’ll find out who really runs this town soon enough.”

“Hood,” Dick mutters. “We need to go, cops in this neighborhood aren’t cape-friendly.”

Jason stands, visibly enraged, and for a moment Dick thinks he’ll shoot Susie anyways. He’s prepared to move - but then Jason pulls out his grapple, fires, and flies up onto the roof.

“Talk about a bleeding heart,” Susie says to Dick. “He have kids or something?”

Dick doesn’t like her tone of voice at all. She’s too relaxed, too unconcerned about being under arrest. She won’t stay in long.

“It’s Nightwing! Get your hands up!”

Dick obliges, ready to pull his escrima sticks.

Three police officers come through the smoke, weapons drawn. “You better have a damn good reason for being this far out of Bludhaven,” one of them shouts at Dick.

“Sure do!” Dick calls back. “Arrested a murderer for you, no need to thank me!”

“Shut up,” a different officer retorts. “Keep your hands up, pretty boy.”

“Oh, fuck this,” Jason mutters over the comm. “I’m throwing you an escape, we’ll recon on the library roof. Stop being so goddamn chatty.”

One smoke pellet later, Dick is three rooftops away and flying. He gets to the library before Jason, exhilarated as ever from a good run.

Jason drops down next to him after a minute or so, laughing when he gets a look at Dick’s smile. “Running from the cops still does it for you, huh?”

Dick elbows him, momentarily forgetting to keep his distance. “Doesn’t it for you?”

Surprisingly, Jason doesn’t move away. “Usually they’re shooting at me, so.”

Dick leans closer, testing. “So…yes?”

“You’re so annoying,” Jason says, but he lets Dick nudge his shoulder, bump their arms together. He’s so solid, Dick thinks. So big. More like Bruce than any of them.

“So, how fast do you think she’ll get out?” he asks, when Jason stays quiet.

“Fucking tomorrow, probably,” Jason sighs. “Next week if we’re lucky.”

“Sounds like she didn’t know about Danielle, at least.”

“She’s not the problem,” Jason says, shrugging Dick off and standing back up. “Falcones will blow up the whole orphanage if they get wind of it. We need to put them down first.”

“We need to find out who’s in charge,” Dick agrees. “I planted a mic on her shoe. In the laces. Hopefully she won’t find it for a few days.”

“Good thinking,” Jason nods. “You gonna keep patrolling?”

“Might as well,” Dick says, standing up next to him and stretching his arms over his head. “I’m still stiff from that stakeout, I need to move.”

Jason’s gone quiet again. Dick thinks he hears his breath catch, but the helmet muffles it enough that it could be a yawn.

“You’re going back to the manor?”

Jason groans. “Fuck my life, yes.”

“You miss her, huh.” Cute, his brain chants.

Jason doesn’t answer, but Dick has a feeling he’s getting the stink-eye.

“I miss her too,” Dick offers. “It’s okay.”

Jason sighs. “Dick…”

“It’s a good thing, Jay. You care about her! We all do,” Dick adds, seeing the rigidity in Jason’s posture. “I mean, you’re practically her parent right now. Of course you miss her.”

“...Don’t say it like that.” Jason’s voice is low, almost pained, and Dick knows he pushed too far. “Like…like I have a right to, okay, just. Don’t.”

“Jason, wait,” Dick starts, but he doesn’t get to finish. Without a backward glance, Jason fires off a line to the neighboring building, and then he’s gone.

***

(tim)

The docks are quiet, unsettlingly so, as Tim prowls around the towers of shipping containers, keeping to the deep shadows they cast along the chipped pavement. It’s overcast, so there’s no moonlight to expose him, but it’s also too dark to see which of the trucks and campers parked all over are occupied, which ones might suddenly turn their headlights on him and catch him out.

One truck in particular - an innocuous looking Isuzu with a stunningly weaponized interior, is the object of his search. The driver, Felipe, is one of Tim’s best informants within Intergang - or had been, prior to the upheaval. Tim’s reasonably sure that Felipe is too lowly a grunt to make an example of, but still, he’s concerned that he hasn’t heard from him in a few days.

As it turns out, he needn’t have worried. He finds Felipe a hundred yard away from his truck, taking a piss off the wharf. He lets himself into the passenger side of the truck, and immediately notes that it is packed. There’s hardly a spare inch in the back, and Tim has a tough time even getting into the passenger seat with all the bags, clothes, and blankets stuffed into it. He pushes the majority of it to the floor, and waits.

Felipe comes back a few moments later. He opens the door and starts, eyes going wide when he sees Tim, but Tim puts his finger to his lips and motions for Felipe to get in so they can talk.

“Red Robin,” Felipe says, once the door is closed. He looks even more shaken than usual. “What the fuck, man?”

Tim crosses his arms. “You tell me, Felipe. You’ve been dodging my calls for days, and now I find out you’re skipping town?”

“I ditched that phone, man. Boss Reynolds had my number in there, you know? Ditched it as soon as I heard about him. I wasn’t trying to ghost you, honest.”

“Relax,” Tim tells him. “I’m not mad. I’d dodge me, too. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll shadow you out of town. Make sure you’re not followed.”

“Shit, man,” Felipe sighs. “Okay, look. There’s shit I can’t tell you, not if I ever want to hench again. You gotta figure that all out yourself, yeah?”

Tim shrugs. “Fine.”

Felipe swallows. “It started last week when Boss Reynolds met with somebody - I don’t know his name, God as my witness, but from what I heard, ‘cause I was unloading some of that funky alien tech, and you know Boss Reynolds wanted to supervise that personally - anyways, this guy in a suit took a meeting with him, and it sounded like he was offering Boss Reynolds a job. Said he had a new operation, bigger than Intergang, bigger than anything Gotham’s seen in a while.”

“Did Reynolds believe him?”

“Nah, he told him to get lost. They had some words, and then everybody started pulling guns, and I went back to the ship so I didn’t get fuckin’ shot, but I didn’t hear anything after that. Next thing I saw, Boss Reynolds was calling his son up and telling him to demo some building down by the old boardwalk - a hotel, maybe. Guess he wanted to expand that way, I don’t know.”

“That was the old Falcone hotel,” Tim says, mostly just to see Felipe’s reaction. He isn’t disappointed - Felipe goes pale, and his eyes flash to the rosary hanging off his rearview mirror. Tim likes Felipe as an informant because he’s nosy, shockingly competent for a henchman, and because he really likes to gossip. He’s never held back on Tim before this.

“Few days later, one of ours, this merc named Tiberius, comes down to the warehouse and says he’s got something to show us. Takes out a fat fuckin’ folder full of pictures…man, it was some sick shit. Boss Reynolds, his wife, Reynolds Jr, and every fuckin’ guy under him. Kids, man. He just passed it around, made everyone look at it. Then he says, we can either be in the folder, or we can come meet the new boss.”

Felipe takes a shaky breath. “Obviously I go with Tiberius, like everyone else. I heard a couple guys stayed on the ship that was docked, thinking they’d wait ‘em out, but the new boss blew it up. Says we’re not in the tech business anymore, and anyone caught trying to smuggle it is gonna get tied to it and tossed in the harbor. You can imagine my concerns,” he says, gesturing to his truck. Tim estimates half or more of the weapons in it are salvaged from alien junk. Roy Harper would have a field day with the setup this guy’s made for himself.

“So that’s why you’re bailing,” Tim says, understanding. He can hardly blame the guy. “Why not just hide the truck somewhere?”

“Well…I did think about that,” Felipe admits. “Tiberius made us a pretty sweet pitch, once we went along with him. Not gonna lie, I was tempted. Tech is my thing, you know, but I can make a gun out of pretty much anything. I could see the possibilities, is what I’m saying, but that was before we met the new boss.”

Tim nods encouragingly. This is what he’s been waiting to hear.

“Listen, Red Robin - I know we’ve had our differences, but I respect you, man, you know that. You’ve been good to me, so I’m gonna give you some advice here. Stay the hell away from the new boss. Like, don’t even get involved. I’ve been henching for a while, and I’ve seen some messed up shit, but they are crazy. Está loca, you feel me? I’ve seen the hit list, and you’re right at the top of it. You and all the other capes. Half of Arkham, too. And they’re connected, like you wouldn’t believe. Shit, I’m already saying too much, man. You see the position I’m in here?”

“I do, Felipe,” Tim tells him. He hands over a stack of hundred dollar bills, their agreed-upon rate for information. “Where are you going?”

“You’re crazy too, if you think I’m telling you that,” Felipe scoffs.

Tim wasn’t expecting a straight answer anyways. “Fair enough. You heading out now?”

“Soon as you get the hell outta my car, yeah. You said you’d shadow me out?”

“I will,” Tim says. “From a distance. If you don’t see me, it means you’re clear to cross the bridge.”

“All right,” Felipe nods. “In that case, I hope I never see your ass again.”

Tim laughs, and climbs out of the truck.

He finds his own way out of the shipyard, pulls a bike out of a safe house, and catches up with Felipe’s GPS signal halfway to the Fashion District. Once he’s sure there’s no immediate threat, he calls Barbara.

“Red Robin to Oracle. I’m uploading a recording to the server.”

Barbara is in his ear at once. “You met with your informant?”

“He wouldn’t give me a name, but he let a couple things slip.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” she says.

“First, he flinched hard when I brought up the Falcone name.”

“Confirms what we already know,” Barbara says. “Good. There’s more?”

“There’s more.” Tim tries not to gloat. This is, after all, a serious situation. “He was being cagey about mentioning the leader’s gender, so I was already suspicious, but then said ‘está loca’ when he was trying to warn me.”

Barbara whistles. “Well,” she says, sounding satisfied. “That’ll certainly narrow it down.”

“Yep,” Tim says grimly. “Looks like the new head of the Falcone family is a woman.”

***

(jason)

When Jason was Robin, the library had always been his favorite room in the Manor. It had spoken easily to his idea of what wealth was - rich people had fancy cars, sure, and maybe pools and expensive wardrobes, but wealthy people had art collections, and gardens, and libraries. Jason had spent hours upon hours browsing the shelves, reading anything he could wrap his brain around (and plenty of things he couldn’t), suggesting additions to Alfred, and avoiding his schoolwork in favor of learning about more interesting things, like string theory, or cryptology, or chemical warfare.

That was then.

Now, the library is the only place he can get a minute of peace from the constant barrage of his obnoxious, nosy, boundaryless family members. They’ve been characteristically persistent in their curiosity about him, and about Danielle, who is now Dani, courtesy of Stephanie. This is a nickname family, she’d said, and Jason hadn’t known how to disagree. So now she’s Dani, and Jason is family, and that apparently means he is no longer entitled to any privacy, or personal space for that matter. The only person who hasn’t barged in on him is Bruce, which is almost worse, in a way, because it’s one thing when nobody seeks him out, and it’s quite another when everyone does and then Bruce...doesn’t. Not that he wants Bruce to come up and bother him, God. But he’s in the man’s house, he’s hearing him on the comm constantly either on patrol or down in the cave, and all the other Bat brats and even Alfred are buzzing around him like flies. It’s too much - it feels like before, except for Bruce’s conspicuous absence reminding him that it’s not.

Sharing a bathroom with Dick is another before experience that Jason didn’t need a repeat of. In some ways, it was worse when he was Robin - stripping and showering after patrol in the cave with Dick a few feet away from him is a memory he really wouldn’t have minded leaving back in the Pit - and in other ways, it’s worse now, because Dick is always freaking around. There’s no reprieve, he’s not flitting off to the Titans every week like he used to be. Jason hasn’t gone half a day without Dick getting in his space, drawing up close to him and making that earnest eye contact he’s so annoyingly good at; sometimes wet, sometimes half-naked, sometimes both. And what can Jason do? He’s not going to leave Dani, and he needs Dick to be there so he can get some sleep every once in a while, or patrol, or shower. It’s actually been pretty helpful to have him around, in that regard, but if he has to see the guy walking around with bedhead and nothing but a pair of boxer briefs on one more time, he’s going to fucking explode.

So, the library has its benefits: no harassment from over-familiar family members, no Dick sexually frustrating him within an inch of his life, and, if he’s willing to be a little sentimental, he kind of does want to show it to Dani. She’s too young to appreciate it, probably, but it stirs something in him to share it with her all the same. He’s heard it’s never too early to get kids into reading - his parents sure as hell never tried, but Jason had read anything he could get his hands on, once he learned how. It had saved him, back then. Maybe it can do the same for Dani one day.

“Could’ve sworn Bruce had a Dr. Seuss anthology somewhere in here,” he says to her, combing over the shelves with his eyes. “Guess not. You up for something more sophisticated?”

She grunts, squeezing his shirt in her fist. “Alright,” he agrees, pulling Twelfth Night off the shelf. “Shakespeare it is. You’ve got taste, kid.”

He wonders, not for the first time, what exactly he thinks he’s doing, playing at this whole parenting thing. The rational part of his brain knows that this is a case, that Dani is a victim, that Jason is protecting her because it’s his job. The emotional part of his brain has gone completely off the goddamn rails. Case in point: he’s here with her in the library, prepping her for early literacy like some kind of Crest Hill soccer mom wannabe. Like he’ll even be in her life when she starts doing her ABCs - God willing, she’ll be as far away from him as possible by the time that happens.

It’s fucking hard to think about. He never thought he’d get this attached to a person who can’t even burp on their own. It’s been over a week, and he still struggles with putting her down, with stepping away from her, even when he knows he’s coming right back. Steph and Damian have been wanting to hold her all the time, and Jason knows that they’re capable, knows he has no claim over Dani, doesn’t even mind either of them all that much under normal circumstances, and still, he can’t help feeling like something has reached inside and gripped at his heart every time he passes her over. Which is ridiculous, because she’s not his, he has no more claim over her than any other schmuck off the street. She’s just a kid with unbelievably bad luck, and he’s the idiot who followed Dick up the stairs instead of booking it out the door like a sensible person.

He settles down with her on the couch, propping her up on a couple of pillows, giving her foot a little squeeze. She squeals, smiling at him, and stuffs her fingers in her mouth. God, Jason didn’t know he could feel the way he feels whenever she smiles at him. It’s gonna kill him when he has to give her up.

“If music be the food of love, play on,” he reads, walking his fingers up her leg. “Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die.”

Dani watches him, chewing happily on her fingers. “‘O, it came over my ear like the sweet sound that breathes upon a bank of violets.’ That’s you, you know.” He pokes her in the cheek, grinning. If music be the food of love…but hell, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this. Especially when she’s all calm and engaging, the precious few minutes that he’s learned to appreciate in between finishing eating and being tired and cranky, when all she wants to do is look around at things, and all Jason wants to do, ever, is look at her.

The door to the library opens, and Jason goes from content to murderous in a fraction of a second. “What the fuck is it now,” he hisses, expecting Damian or maybe Tim, coming to nag him some more, and instead sees Damian’s friend Colin, who looks horrified to have intruded on him. Jason immediately feels like the world’s biggest ass.

“Sorry,” Colin whispers, mortified, and Jason waves a hand apologetically.

“My bad, I didn’t know it was you. Come in, it’s fine. She’s awake, you don’t need to whisper.”

Colin looks unsure, but soon nods and steps into the library, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Once inside, he dawdles by the nearest bookshelf, clearly at a loss. Jason probably should’ve just let him back out, because this is awkward. Should he keep reading to Dani? Talk to Colin? Ask him why he looks like someone just kicked him and stole his dog?

“You good?” he ventures, figuring he ought to at least attempt to be the adult in the room.

Colin glances at him over his shoulder, smiling tentatively. “Yeah, just bored. Damian’s sleeping, we had a rough patrol last night.”

“We?” Jason repeats, stunned. Bruce isn’t an exemplar of child welfare practices, sure, but letting Damian take other kids on crime-busting playdates? What the hell?

“Oh, I guess you don’t know,” Colin frowns. “I’m….uh, it’s probably easier if I just show you.”

He slides his jacket off, threadbare t-shirt hanging off his skinny frame. Jason tenses, not sure what to expect. When Colin’s arm starts to expand, his eyes widen. By the time his fist is as big around as Jason’s thigh, he thinks his eyebrows have probably disappeared into his hairline.

“Oh.” Jason has no idea how he’s supposed to react to this. Is Colin a meta? He’s pretty sure he would know if Colin was a meta. “How…?”

“Scarecrow,” Colin explains. Jason’s heart sinks. “He experimented on me with synthetic Venom. Batman saved me.”

Dani fusses, twisting her body and scrunching her face up. Jason sympathizes - this conversation is giving him gas, too. “Shit,” he says. Not the most articulate way of expressing his condolences, but Colin’s friends with Damian, so tact can’t be of great importance to him. “I didn’t know.”

Dani starts to cry, and Colin takes a couple steps forward, putting Jason’s hackles up at once. Stop it, he tells himself sternly. He might have fallen down a few pegs, but he’s not pathetic enough to square up against an abused fifth grader. He picks her up, rubbing her back, and then glances over at Colin. The kid’s gone shy, looking down at a point somewhere between Jason’s legs and the floor. Jason feels all the hostility bleed out of him, and he sighs.

“You can sit down.” He gestures to the couch, trying to sound nonthreatening. Dani burps, mouths at his shirt, and then gurgles and kicks her legs again. She leans back against his hold to stare at Colin, and Colin’s face splits into a huge grin. He tucks himself down into the cushions, keeping plenty of space between them, but Jason can sense from the inclination of his body that he wants to be closer. Well, if anyone has a right to be close to Dani, it’s the kid who rescued her in the first place.

“Here,” he offers, turning Dani around in his arms. His heart clenches, and he clamps down on his desire to flee. “You can hold her for a minute, if you want to. She likes you.”

Colin looks at him, eyes shining. “Really?”

Jason nods. “Go ahead. Honestly, you probably know a lot more about this shit than I do.”

Colin takes Dani from him carefully, smiling at her and laughing when she reaches forward to grab at his jacket zipper. A few seconds later, it’s in her mouth, along with most of her fist.

“Should I…?” Colin looks at Jason hesitantly.

“I mean…she’s had worse things in her mouth,” Jason tells him. A ringing endorsement of his child-minding abilities right there. “It’s fine, right? That’s how they build an immune system, or whatever.”

“Well, Alfred washed this for me last night,” Colin admits, looking embarrassed. “So it shouldn’t be too gross.”

Jason leans back against the couch cushions, crossing his arms. “Getting all the perks, huh?”

Colin shrugs, casting his eyes down again. “I like it here.”

Considering where Colin grew up, Jason supposes he can’t blame the kid. Still, he’s not quite wrapping his head around this sweet, genuinely nice kid being buddies with Damian. The demon brat isn’t exactly known for his winning personality, and Jason only knows vaguely how the two of them met, but what he’s heard doesn’t strike him as being particularly conducive to forging the lasting bonds of friendship.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he decides to just ask. “Why’d you call Damian, the night you found her?”

Colin looks surprised. “I...don’t know,” he says, slowly. “I didn’t know who else to call? Damian’s my best friend, and he always knows what to do.”

Jason can’t keep the skeptical look off his face.

“And if he doesn’t, Bat….Bruce, I mean, definitely always knows what to do.”

Jason scrubs a hand over his face. Time to change the fucking subject. “How’d you two get hooked up, anyways?”

Dani turns her head to look at him, still eating Colin’s zipper. Sometimes, Jason gets the bizarre feeling that she can somehow tell when he’s about to blow a gasket. It’s probably a coincidence - she moves around a lot, and Jason has anger issues that flare up every ten minutes, so there’s bound to be some crossover - but it works, because it takes the fight right out of him every time.

“We worked a case together,” Colin says, holding Dani a little more securely against him. “About a year ago, I guess. Kids were disappearing from my orphanage, and from the shelters. I don’t think you were around.”

“I wasn’t,” Jason shakes his head. He and Roy had been busting a trafficking ring in Ibiza, and it had taken Jason over a month to get all the major players. “I heard about it a little, from Dick.”

Dick hadn’t given him too many details at the time - Jason had chalked it up to him having a few other things on his mind, but as Colin fills in the gaps, he starts to suspect Dick just didn’t want him going on a rampage. Which he absolutely would have - he still wants to, God. God. All those poor kids, just a stone’s throw from his old neighborhood. And of course the police had done jack shit - Zsasz is practically Black Mask’s pet, he probably paid them off to look the other way, not that most of them need the excuse - and Bruce was gone, and Jason was gone, and Dick was in over his head, and - fuck, it should never have fallen to Damian and Colin.

He waits for the fury to subside a little, not trusting what will come out of his mouth. Dani hums around her fist, blinking at him, and it helps. “Jesus,” he says, finally. “This fucking town.”

Colin’s mouth twists a little. “Yeah. But you were Robin, right? You probably saw worse things.”

Did he? Jason doesn’t remember. He doubts it, though. He can’t imagine he would’ve been satisfied with Bruce’s way of dealing with it.

“I wouldn’t have pulled my stroke, when I was Robin,” he muses. “Probably why Bruce never gave me a sword.”

No, Jason would’ve bisected the fucker. It still has appeal, though he thinks he would lean towards his favorite Sig rifle if he was taking care of it today. Headshots for the henchmen - anyone who signs on to that kind of operation, even in the most menial capacity, doesn’t deserve to breathe. Kneecaps and crotch shots for the spectators, to make sure they couldn’t get away. Gut shots for the kid-wranglers. And Zsasz....it’s tempting to want to draw it out, but Jason can feel the desire leaving him the longer he thinks about it. His imaginative tortures fade into a simple headshot, and even that isn’t satisfying. Fuck. He just can’t seem to hold onto his rage lately, even when he wants to. It’s all being replaced by some kind of anxiety, some kind of tenderness that aches, burning deep into him every time Dani looks at him, or touches him. Every time he thinks of her. Every time he feels Dick watching him with her, all warmth and affection.

Colin bounces her a little, making her laugh. Jason feels his revenge fantasy slip away.

“What’re you reading her?” Colin nods to the book still laying open in Jason’s lap.

Jason looks at it. “Oh, Twelfth Night. Shakespeare,” he adds, recalling that Colin is eleven, and likely not perusing great literature in his free time. “Figure it’s never too early to start her on the classics.”

Colin grins. “That’s cool,” he says. “Does she like it?”

“Beats me,” Jason shrugs.

“Read some?”

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Colin flushes. “Um. I mean, if you want…”

He decides to humor him. What the hell. “Sure, why not. ‘O spirit of love! How quick and fresh art thou, that, notwithstanding in thy capacity, receiveth as the sea.’”

Dani yawns widely, relinquishing her fist in a long string of drool. Jason laughs, and so does Colin. “Maybe jumping the gun a little,” he admits. “I don’t really know what kids are into these days.”

“Me either,” Colin says. “I think she liked it, though. See, she’s just sleepy.”

Jason feels a lump forming in his throat, and swallows hard against it.

“What does it mean? The part you were reading,” Colin asks.

“Um.” Jason doesn’t really know, he’s not exactly a literary scholar, but he’s always liked to work Shakespeare out on his own, finding meaning in the wordplay and running the metaphors through his mind until they line up in a satisfactory way. He doesn’t know if his interpretation is correct, exactly, but: “So this Duke, a guy called Orsino, is saying that he doesn’t want to be in love anymore. He’s talking about love and how everyone thinks it’s this wonderful thing, but the truth is that it actually just makes people miserable.”

Jason pauses, feeling like he just showed way too much of his hand. “Basically, he’s just complaining,” he finishes, uneasy.

Glancing at Colin out of the corner of his eye, he’s relieved to see that he’s occupied with Dani, and not paying attention to Jason at all. Thank fuck. If it’d been anyone else in the house sitting there, he’d be in for some horrible armchair psychology session, and he’d have to book it out the window and not return for several months.

“I think she wants you,” Colin says, as Dani ramps up her fussing. Jason takes her gratefully, holds her to his chest as she rubs her eyes and grumbles her displeasure at being passed around.

“All right, I hear you,” Jason murmurs, gently tugging her fists away from her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, come on. It’s not so bad.” Like he’s one to talk.

And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, ever since pursue me, he thinks, rocking her tiny body into a comfortable position. Colin was only holding her for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and Jason was sitting less than five feet away, but he missed her. God, what is happening to him?

“Damian didn’t want to bring her here, at first,” Colin says quietly. “But I think he’s glad that we did. He really likes her, you know.”

Jason doesn’t quite know how to feel about that. It’s sweet, on some level. And he’s well aware that Damian likes her, going by the amount of time he spends hovering in the hallway outside Jason’s room, not to mention the increasingly expensive toys that keep showing up among her things.

He looks down at her, dozing off. “Well, she’s pretty easy to like.”

Colin nods, looking pleased.

“Damian, on the other hand....”

Colin grins. “He’s not so bad.”

He’s really not. Like hell Jason will ever tell him that, though. “You have bizarre taste, kid.”

Colin blushes, hard, and Jason blinks. Well. That’s interesting, isn’t it? Or it will be, in a few years. He makes a note to ask Dick about it, later.

“Are you gonna adopt her?” Colin asks, bringing Jason’s amused thoughts to a screeching halt.

Automatically, he says, “No way.”

Colin looks wounded. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t,” Jason replies. “I’m the last person who should be a parent, trust me.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Doesn’t feel that way either - the thought floats up, unbidden, uninvited. He can’t. “She deserves better,” Jason says, heavily. “Even if….even I could handle it. She deserves better than this family.”

“But your family is - ”

“A death sentence.” He’s being harsh, but if Colin’s gonna be hanging around, he’ll find out for himself soon enough. “It’s fucking cursed, look. I couldn’t do that to any kid, especially her. You should get out too, while you still can.”

Colin looks angry, which surprises him. His hands are balled into fists, and Jason sees a tremor in them, a bulging that immediately sets off alarm bells in his head.

“Kid,” he says sharply. “Colin. If you’re gonna hulk out, take it outside. Alfred will have an honest-to-God stroke if you do it in here.”

A few deep breaths later, Colin looks normal again. “Sorry.” His voice is hoarse. “You’re wrong, though.”

Jason’s temper flares. “No offense, but I think I would know better than you,” he snaps. Dani grumbles sleepily in his arms, and he sighs out in frustration. “Trust me, okay? She’s better off. It never ends well, not in this family. I’m proof of that.”

But Colin shakes his head. “You don’t know,” he says. “My mom said the same thing, when she dropped me off at the orphanage. She gave the nuns a letter - she said I’d be better off with them than with her.”

Jason stills.

“It didn’t matter,” Colin continues. “Scarecrow still got me. Victor Zsasz still got me. Maybe they would have gotten me with her, too. Maybe I wouldn’t have been that much better off with her, but at least I would’ve been with her.” He sniffles, and Jason holds Dani a little tighter.

“I know she loved me.” His voice cracks. “I just wish...I wish I could’ve stayed with her. I wish she would have known that I never would’ve been better off away from her.”

He looks absolutely miserable, pitched forward and rubbing hard at his eyes. Jason is reminded painfully of how young Colin is, closer to Dani’s age than his own. He remembers being Colin’s age and younger, thinking the same thoughts about his own mother. How fiercely he’d guarded her, chased away the cops and the social workers, doing everything in his power not to be separated from her. Not that it mattered, in the end.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Colin, I’m sorry. For the record, I actually kind of get where you’re coming from.”

Colin looks up at him.

“Wish I didn’t, but. That’s life.”

“You should adopt her,” Colin says again, softly.

Jason shakes his head. “Colin…”

“You’ll think about it.”

He exhales. “Sure, I’ll think about it.” Like he’ll be able to think about anything else after this.

“She needs you,” Colin insists stubbornly.

Jason doesn’t reply. He knows on some level Colin is right - Dani does need him right now. She needs someone, at least, someone who can take care of her and protect her. Someone who isn’t afraid to shed blood to keep her safe. Jason doesn’t relish the thought, but he’s certain this won’t end tidily. Mob cases never do. It’ll be messy, and bloody, and Bruce will have a shit fit, and Dick probably will too, and Jason will go back to Crime Alley and Dani will get shipped off to Witness Protection or something, and damn, does that hurt to think about.

He looks over at Colin, still hunched over on himself, vulnerability written into every line of his posture. He’s desperately in need of a hug, or some kind of affection, validation, maybe. Or that’s just Jason projecting, who the fuck knows. If Dick was here, he would know exactly what to do for him. Jason’s at a loss, unable to separate his young self from the damaged kid sitting next to him.

He adjusts his hold on Dani carefully, laying her down flat along his arm, while he works out what to say. Finally, he settles on, “Damian’s lucky to have you.”

Colin sits up a little straighter. He looks like he’s waiting for more, but he’s shit out of luck, because Jason has no idea what else he needs to hear. No idea what he could say that wouldn’t be completely insincere, anyways. We can be your family, Colin. Like hell. Bruce has enough kids lined up waiting to die for him, he’s not about to encourage another one to be turned into cannon fodder for the man’s principles.

“Uh, yeah,” Jason says, after a moment. “That’s all I got.”

Colin smiles wanly. “Thanks, anyways.”

Jason snorts. “Sure.”

“Can I hug you?”

Jason stares. “Can you…what? Me?”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Colin adds, averting his eyes.

Jason can’t even remember the last time someone hugged him. He thinks Roy might’ve, some eight or nine months ago, after they’d narrowly survived a warehouse explosion. Jason’s whole body had been ringing from the blast, so he doesn’t exactly remember the sensation of it. And before that…?

He imagines Dick’s reaction, if he was here. He’d be disappointed in Jason, that’s for sure. Really, Jay? You can’t hug a child? It’s a fair argument, he has to admit. Jason’s fucked up personal space issues don’t really apply to children, or babies, clearly. Colin’s obviously attention-starved, and Jason’s already holding one kid. What’s another, really.

“Okay,” he relents. “Hit me.”

There’s a shuffling motion next to him, and then Colin is hugging his free arm, leaning his head against Jason’s shoulder. Jason can’t quite contain his surprise - it’s weird, as expected, but it’s not dramatically increasing his desire to bolt through the nearest exit like he’d thought it would. It’s a little funny, actually. He’s pretty sure both Bruce and Damian would lose their shit if they could see him right now. Dick, too, most likely, but to his credit, it would be a happy kind of shit-losing. Damian would probably try to gut him.

Are there cameras in the library? Jason can’t remember. He kind of hopes there aren’t, because if anyone else sees this, he will absolutely never live it down.

***

(dick)

“Wait, I think that’s him.” Dick leans forward to peer at Tim’s screen. He points to the familiar looking figure. “That guy. Do you have a clearer shot?”

Tim skips a few photos ahead, and zooms in. “Him?”

“Yes. That’s the guy. Jason said he recognized him from your surveillance files. He was at the club the night we caught Susie Falcone.”

“The fourth night, was it?” Tim asks, innocently.

“Don’t be mean, Timmy.”

“Just clarifying,” Tim grins. Dick raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay. I don’t have a ton of intel on this guy, he’s really slippery. According to my informant, he goes by Tiberius - some kind of mercenary, Greek or Albanian national. I doubt that’s his real name.”

Dick nods, studying the photographs. Tim continues, “He came over with Intergang as an enforcer, I think. Might’ve been Reynolds’ personal bodyguard.”

“Could explain how Reynolds got taken out,” Dick says thoughtfully. “He’s on the Falcones’ payroll now, but he’s not family. Might be an easy target.”

Tim opens his mouth, about to reply, when there’s a choked-off sound of fury from the Batcave below them.

“Was that Damian? He’s up already?” Dick asks, glancing down towards Bruce’s computer. He hops over the ramp to see what the fuss is about. Tim follows close behind.

“Everything okay?” Dick asks, approaching the wall of screens. There’s nothing that jumps out at him as being particularly alarming; Bruce is looking at DNA analyses, and Damian is looking at the Manor surveillance, tapping furiously at his ear.

“Todd!” he hisses. “What do you think you’re doing? Colin is my friend!”

“Robin,” Oracle’s voice comes through the speaker. “No names on the comms. And Hood isn’t wearing his earpiece, so you’ll have to tell him in person.” She sounds amused. “Oracle out.”

Damian swears.

“Holy shit,” Tim says faintly. “Look at them.”

The screen that all the Manor surveillance feeds run to is showing just one room - the library, of all places, but Dick vaguely recalls it being some kind of sanctuary to Jason, years and years ago. It makes sense that he’d end up back there, and it makes sense that he’d have Dani with him. What Dick doesn’t expect to see is little Colin Wilkes, all five feet and change of him, snuggled up to Jason’s side and hugging him, wrapped around his arm like a gangly koala. Dick can’t help but notice that Jason’s bicep is about as big around as Colin’s head, which is certainly...something. He’s not quite ready to classify how he feels about that, so he refocuses on the hug itself, which is nothing short of charming.

Damian grinds his teeth audibly. “It’s still going.”

“Oh, man.” Dick can’t help the grin he feels creeping up the sides of his face. “Bruce, are you seeing this?”

“I am,” Bruce says, stiffly. He looks like he’s in pain. Dick fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you? Look how sweet they are!” he exclaims, gesturing. It’s adorable.

“It is not sweet,” Damian snarls, whirling on him. “Todd is a corruptive influence, and Colin is young and impressionable! Where is your concern for him?”

Tim coughs, and it sounds a little bit like “jealous”. Surprisingly, this does not diffuse Damian’s indignation.

“I don’t get it,” Dick says, stepping between them quickly to block Damian’s spinning kick. “I thought you and Jason were fine, Damian. You’ve been spending enough time in our - in his room lately. Where’s this coming from?”

“Incredibly, I don’t feel as concerned about Todd recruiting an infant onto the path of lawlessness,” Damian retorts. “Colin lacks paternal guidance in his life, as you know. Todd clearly senses it.”

“Jason is very paternal these days,” Tim agrees.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a hug,” Dick says in exasperation. “No one’s recruiting anyone, Damian. And look, it’s over. Your friend is just a hugger, that’s all.”

“I must agree with Master Richard,” Alfred says from behind them. “Having been the recipient of many such embraces from young Master Colin myself.”

“See? I’ve gotten hugs from him too,” Dick tells Damian. “And I know you have, so don’t bother denying it. He’s probably gearing up the courage to get one from Bruce one of these days.”

Bruce looks slightly alarmed by the prospect. “He is?”

Damian looks conflicted. “He is?”

Dick casts his eyes heavenward. “Colin, I’m so sorry.”

Before he can say anything else, the Cave door opens below them, and Duke’s bike comes shooting in, whipping around into its parking spot in a move that would send Dick flying over the handlebars. Bruce takes about half a second to look impressed, and then clears the main screen to pull up their intel on the Falcone case.

“What’s up, guys,” Duke calls, pulling off his helmet and jogging up the steps. “I’ve got news. Where’s Jason?”

“Being hugged, in the library,” Dick tells him. “You just missed it.”

Duke looks nonplussed. “Damn. Wait, that’s not some kind of weird euphemism, is it? If it is, I don’t want to know.”

“It most certainly is not,” Damian says venomously.

“Cool. I tried to get him on the comm, but he didn’t respond. Should I go get him? He’ll want to hear this.”

“Damian will get him,” Bruce says.

Damian is…already on the elevator. Dick spares a thought for Jason. At least he’s holding Dani, so Damian won’t attack him outright.

“Your news?” Bruce prompts.

“Right,” Duke nods. “I’ve been all over City Hall records, and spent yesterday afternoon getting intel in the East End. I’ve got names and faces of most of the major players in this. They’re trying hard to front some distant nephew of Carmine Falcone as the head of the whole operation, but it wasn’t quite adding up. You said the new Falcone boss is a woman, right?” he asks Tim.

Tim nods affirmatively.

Duke looks triumphant. “Then I know who she is.”

***

#jaydick #in which there is so much plot all to justify the existence of 1 baby #low key this fic is my maternal love letter to colin wilkes #i miss him dc bring him back #my fics #heartlandverse

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

The sniffles

TITLE: The sniffles CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: ONE SHOT AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her.

Imagine that against everything you both thought possible, Loki gets the flu.

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: It’s getting to be chilly season, so the flu is lurking about. Get your flu shots! Be careful! Socially distance! Language, maybe? Mostly fluff. Mentions of illness? (Do people tag that?) Not beta’d or edited, really–probs lots of typos.

SUMMARY: Loki gets sick, though he insists it’s just allergies. Charlie puts on her bossy pants and shows Loki she’s a bamf. Loki is a Nervous Nelly.

Loki had nearly frowned himself into an alternate dimension when it first happened–a simple sneeze. He had been sorting through some paperwork that Stark had asked him to complete, a mindless task meant to keep him occupied under the guise of his rehabilitation. With a shrug, Loki aired out the papers, assuming dust had tickled his nose for the briefest of moments, but thought nothing more of it.

Two years into his exile to Midgard and working under the tech guru, Loki had pretty much worked off his sentence in Tony’s eyes. According to anyone with half a brain, depriving Loki of his magic, the major condition of his exile, was punishment enough for the Prince (Loki would never admit that the act of cleaning a whole kitchen to perfection on his hands and knees was methodical and soothing, but it was one of the many joys of his near mortal existence). Still, it turned out that Stark was a bleeding heart and could recognize the tell-tale signs of a son who never got proper validation from their father (or enough hugs). It could have also been the fact that the former hissing-serpent-of-an-Asgardian all but turned into a golden retriever after he fell in love. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that Stark was deathly afraid of the five-foot-nothing woman Loki now shared an apartment with, and who would most definitely cause him bodily harm for overworking her boyfriend.

All in all, within the constraints of this supposed punishment, everything was wonderful.

Then, Loki sneezed again.

And continued to do so.

But, of course, he wasn’t ill.

Achoo!

Charlie started, letting out a half-strangled shriek that soon turned into a groan as objects clattered on her desk. Her jaw clenched together so tightly, she thought her teeth would crack.

Now, Charlie wasn’t irritated that her dork alien of a boyfriend was sneezing in her presence while she was trying to get work done. No, she was irritated because she had sent him to bed (again, for the sixth time) twenty minutes ago when his fever and chills started to turn him into an unintelligible, hallucinating mess. She thought she had been quite clear in her order for him to get some rest. After all, it had been three days since Loki first sneezed, and though he had brushed it off as a bad case of seasonal allergies, his denial was starting to get ridiculous, not to mention, harmful.

Turns out thousand year old demigods-turned-mortal are no better at following orders than any other man on the planet. In fact, Charlie was pretty sure he was being more of a brat than any other mortal… not that she’d ever tell him.

Pushing away her keyboard, she stood away from the desk, taking a second to orient herself and stare in the general direction she had heard the sneeze come from.

She schooled her facial expression into what she hoped was a no-nonsense expression. “Go. Back. To. Bed.”

Loki grumbled, his voice particularly hoarse and gravelly with an added nasally quality from his blocked passages. “It’s allergies and I have things to do,” he retorted stubbornly, ignoring the fact that his whole world seemed to tilt ever-so-slightly with each step he took.

“Allergies, my ass. Loki Odinson, you have the flu. You belong back in bed. Don’t make me be the bad guy here.”

He let out a half-hearted snort, pretending that he did not at all feel the need to double over and repeat whatever little breakfast he was able to get down his gullet that morning. “I am not sick. I haven’t been sick in four centuries. Your sorry Midgardian microbes cannot infect me.”

“Yeah, when you had your full powers. Now, though–”

“I’m fine-d.”

It was a small, momentary miracle that Charlie wasn’t able to see the way he swayed on a spot, holding his head pathetically against the sudden bout of vertigo that assaulted him. At least he thought she couldn’t. Though Loki could not explain the fact that her hand grasped him by an elbow a moment later with what appeared to be no difficulty. Clearly he was off his game, and he didn’t even bother complaining when Charlie half-dragged him all the way to the sofa and forced him to sit.

He couldn’t help but smile at the brows knitted together in worry or the lower lip being chewed within an inch of its soft, supple life. The extreme gentleness and care she took in smoothing back his hair and pressing the back of her hand to his forehead made his stomach twist in the most pleasant way. This was the best antidote, he supposed, just watching her fuss over his shivering body. Loki certainly wasn’t used to being taken care of in this manner. It felt almost wrong to succumb to the desire of slumping into the pillows and letting her dote on him.

“I love you,” slipped from his lips before he was even aware that his brain had attempted to convey the message.

Charlie beamed in response, cheeks turning warm copper with a blush. Her fingers trailed down the sides of his face to cup his cheeks. “I love you, too, sweets, but if you don’t stay still and rest, I will put on Stark’s suit and make you.”

Loki smirked, twining one of her curls around his finger and letting it bounce back with a gentle tug. “Have I told you how attractive I find you when you get all bossy?”

“Only every single second this week, Lo.”

“Well, I firmly believe in truth-telling, dove,” he added, voice betraying the exhaustion that seeped into his bones. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that the gentle circles she drew around his temples were some sort of ancient magic. “I’m late for work,” he protested, making an effort to sit back up. He would admit that they way Charlie shoved him back onto the cushions was a little distracting for two entirely different reasons: one, he was weak enough that Charlie could push him down like it was nothing; and, two… it was sort of… sexy. He would take them both to his grave.

“I called Tony and told him you were sick.”

Loki frowned. “What did he say?”

“He asked FRIDAY to queue up ”Ding dong! The witch is dead“,” she joked, lips tugging up in a smirk. “He said to take the week off. No one needs your Asgardian super bugs rolling around the Tower.” Charlie’s lips pressed against his forehead, followed immediately by a sigh. “You’re burning up again, Loki.”

“Everything hurts,” he conceded in a small voice, feeling like a failure when the concern etched in her features deepened further.

Charlie took in the complaint with a resolute nod.

“OK. I’ll go to the pharmacy down the street for some medicine and some electrolytes. You get some rest.” She patted his cheek and made to stand when Loki’s hand wrapped around her wrist.

“I’ll come with you.” He assured, at once, hoping the edge of nervousness wasn’t obvious in his voice.

“Nice try, super spreader.” Her fingers peeled his, dexterously. “No. Get some rest. I’ll be back in twenty.”

“But–”

“I promise you I will be fine, Loki. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

Loki was still reluctant as he watched her cool and confident expression. He shifted awkwardly. He knew that Charlie was entirely capable of any task and she had adapted well to the technology available to her as a non-seeing person, but… Norns, he was just a pathetic mess when it came to her. The thought of anything happening to her… “I know, but–”

“You worry. I understand, but this is important, Loki. You’re important and you’re sick and you need me to go get you medicine.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against her hand for a long moment before finding the courage to speak. “Just… be careful, alright? Maximum alertness, yeah?”

“I promise,” she assured in a whisper, leaning in to kiss his crown. “Please get some rest until I get back.” Her fingers were back to scratching his scalp, combing through his shaggy locks until he could no longer fight against the heaviness of sleep. He uttered half a protest before drifting off, leaving Charlie to cover him up with the spare blanket she kept on the sofa and tucking him in.

Charlie would not say that she was nervous about going out without Loki, but she was certainly not not nervous. She wrapped herself up warm to ward off the autumn chill and triple checked her belongings: keys, phone, card wallet, cane. Her head turned over her shoulder on instinct, as if attempting to spare a glance at Loki sleeping on the couch, before she closed the door behind her.

Loki awoke with a start what felt like an eternity later. His hair was sticking out in all directions and his clothes felt like they were pasted to his body with sweat. He was no longer on the couch, but in bed, and he felt… marginally better. Still, his heart was thumping loudly against his ribcage with a sense of uneasiness.

Charlie.

Where was Charlie?

“Oh, gods, please no.” It was too still. Too quiet. “CHARLIE!?” He called frantically, kicking the covers off of himself, despite the fact that his head disliked his sudden change in momentum. He grit his teeth against the nausea that rose immediately after. He needed to get out of bed and–

“Oh, you’re up!” Charlie chirped happily from the doorway.

His head snapped toward her voice to find her standing with a tray and very carefully balancing a bowl of soup, a sports drink and a bottle of water atop it. The grace with which she was managing to balance the liquids over the wooden serving tray was uncharacteristic–Charlie had never been particularly poised due to her impatience and going blind had not helped matters. After a minute, she placed the tray beside him on the bed and managed to sit down without any major spillage. Loki beamed at the satisfied look on her face and the anxiously flitting and hovering gaze she got when she was particularly excited.

“You’re back,” he breathed softly, fingertips trailing over the hand resting closest to him.

“I was only gone for fifteen minutes.” Charlie giggled. “Do you not remember taking your medicine and coming to bed?”

Loki shook his head before remembering his replies had to be aloud. “Er… no. No, I don’t.”

“You were pretty out of it,” she admitted, not thinking anything of it. “We had a lot of extra veggies, so I made you soup.”

He swallowed at the lump in his throat to no avail as he watched the perfectly cubed pieces of vegetables floating in a golden broth. He could practically feel her efforts radiating off the bowl with every plume of steam that rose enticingly. “You cooked?” His voice caught slightly.

“Yeah. Don’t tell me if it’s no good. It took me forever to chop things, so I might actually cry,” she replied, only half serious.

He picked up the bowl and tentatively sipped at the broth, letting out an involuntary moan when the rich taste flooded his taste buds. “Charlie, it… it’s perfect. It’s delicious.” The satisfied grin she gave in response made the remainder of his pain float away like dandelion fluff. He sipped some more before letting out a contented sigh as his bones warmed. “You are a wonder of wonders, Charlotte Camden.”

Charlie snorted. “I went to the pharmacy and managed not to burn down the apartment. I am middling, at best.”

“Say what you want, but I am proud of you,” he whispered, enjoying the blush on her cheeks as he slurped down the rest of his soup.

He knew she was secretly pleased with the praise, even if she didn’t admit it. Loki was aware that he worried all too much about giving her extra independence with all the what-ifs that popped up in his head. She was always so eager to challenge herself and had proven time and again she was capable of so much more than what she did on a daily basis. Loki was still in her life because she desired it, not because she needed anything from him.

For goodness’ sake, here she was, minding him.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Charlie. I feel restored, already.”

“Finally, he admits illness!” She snickered under her breath while Loki grumbled. “Of course, Loki. It is my distinct pleasure.” She leaned in just enough to prompt Loki to proffer his cheek, skin warm from the flush that could only half be attributed to the warmth of the broth. Her fingers trailed over his scalp, making him shudder from head to toe. “Drink all your fluids and back to bed,” she ordered gently before disappearing back out the bedroom door.

Loki wasn’t used to being taken care of like this but… he could get used to it.

#Loki #Lover #Others #Submitted one shot #submission #the sniffles #fanfictrashdump

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