{ 108 }

where is your heart at?

opla!sanji vinsmoke x fem.reader

the ebb and flow of the ocean rocks the straw hat's ship in a back and forth motion, making you feel as though you were caught in a rhythmic lullaby.

a soft yawn escapes from your lips, and you were about to turn in for the night when a flash of blond was seen from your periphery. with a tilt of your head, you saw that it was sanji who caught your eye. observing him now, you realized that he was currently settled on the deck, gazing up at the night sky with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. and you stood there, wondering if he needed someone to talk to.

how you came to be part of the straw hat crew was in a bit of an unorthodox manner. you lived on a well known island that acted as a hub for those who spent their time traveling the seas during their journey. you had a deep love for medicine and helping people heal, and yet...despite how you successfully studied and became a doctor by your own hard work and merit, you felt empty- unsatisfied even.

there was a routine that you were getting used to, and it was making your life become a bit stable and stale. it was always the same: you'd wake up in the morning, see the few people who come to your home with complaints of them or their loved ones feeling sick or injured.

doctor, please, i need your help, for my son has a fever from swimming in the ocean for too long.

doctor, do you have anything to help with my sprained ankles?

my stomach has been feeling awful lately, do you think you can help me get rid of this pain?

despite how much you loved your work as a doctor, you still felt as though there was something better for you out there, something much bigger than what your life had resorted to.

it was during this time in your life that you met a peculiar young man who had dreams of becoming the king of pirates.

on your way home, you found a young man passed out in the middle of the street, his red tank top and blue shorts caked with dirt as a straw hat remained askew atop of his head.

your instincts as a doctor kicked in right then and there, and you saw that his chapped lips were cracking, almost bleeding due to how dry they were. recognizing that this poor young man was dehydrated, you quickly ran to the nearest well and grabbed a bucketful of fresh water.

"okay sweetheart, you've gotta wake up a bit and drink some water for me." you place the bucket next to you and began getting the refreshing liquid into your hands before splashing his tanned skin with it. the sensation of the water on his heated skin seems to rouse the boy from his unconscious state, and when you managed to get a few drops into his lips did he finally open his eyes, revealing the comforting brown hue of them.

"whoa...i had no idea water could taste so sweet." the young man still seemed to be in a daze while you continued to coax him to drink more of the water in hopes of helping him recover from his dehydrated state. in what seemed like seconds, he perks up while eagerly introducing himself to you.

"hey there! the name's monkey d. luffy, but my friends call me luffy, so you can call me luffy, too! what's your name?"

your head was spinning from how bright and optimistic luffy was, but managed to stutter out your name to him. he repeats your name while shaking your hand in a firm grip.

"i gotta say, if it wasn't for you, i would totally be a goner! are you like, a doctor or something?"

you send him a wistful smile, "yes, i am a traveling doctor, but i mainly work locally, here, on this island. the townspeople usually tells me what ails them, and i help them when needed."

"well, i have a gut feeling that you'll fit right in with me and my crew, and we'll need a doctor if i'm gonna find the one piece and become king of the pirates!"

you couldn't stop the giggle that escapes , "what? you truly believe in such legends?"

"it's not a legend! it's the ultimate treasure that i'm determined to find with my friends! and you-" luffy ends up grasping your hands tightly into his. "you are going to make the perfect addition."

you blink back at him with your lips pursed. was this truly happening? and could you consider this a miracle? did you not consider your life stale and uneventful?

and now, this boy was pretty much offering you an escape; a chance to see the world and finally fill that emptiness you had been feeling. looking into his doe eyes and detecting no lies from him, you give luffy a smile and extend your hand out to him, accepting his offer.

when you first joined luffy's crew as their appointed doctor, you felt nervous upon entering his ship. following luffy's advice to pack lightly, you only came on board with your medical supplies and a few change of clothes. in the same eager voice, luffy introduces you to his crew, referring to you as the crew's doctor while going into exaggerated details on how you had saved his life when he passed out just a few moments ago.

"luffy, i told you not to eat so much salted meats! you were so focused on the food that you hardly drank anything, that's why you were dehydrated! and did you even get the supplies we needed?!" the woman with bright ginger hair known as nami scolds at luffy, and you had a feeling you would get along with her.

as nami continued to scold luffy, your eyes trail over to see his other crew mates: zoro, the pirate hunter with green hair and usopp, the laid back young man who had a gentle smile on his face. you were about to greet them when a sudden whistle cuts you off, catching your attention as a smooth voice calls out to you.

"my my, i had no idea luffy found such a refined lady to join us."

you were slightly frowning now, for you were certain no one who knew you well would ever call you refined or a lady. you glance back to see the source of the voice, feeling your heart soften and race just the tiniest bit.

standing a few feet away from you was a tall, blond man with sea-green eyes and a flirtatious smile. he wore a well tailored suit that fit him to perfection, and seeing the way his soft strands of hair fell across his handsome (almost angelic) features was enough to make any woman fall to her knees for him.

you watch as the man steps closer to you, swearing you heard zoro let out a grunt of annoyance as the tall blond takes a hold of your hand while brushing his lips at the back of them.

he whispers your name for a brief moment before continuing, "my heart has been stolen by you at first sight, madam, and you may call me sanji, for there is nothing more that could possibly fill me with joy than hearing the sound of my name coming from your parted lips."

before sanji could place his lips against the back of your hand, you ripped it away from his grasp while swinging your bag towards him, landing a hit against the back of his head as he let out a grunt of pain.

"you're the crew's casanova, i see." you were laughing genuinely now, feeling amused at sanji's antics as he gave you a sheepish smile. "ah, you wound me, milady. but if i can get you to laugh like that more often, mademoiselle, it would all be worth it."

you roll your eyes to bite back the heat that was threatening to form on your cheeks, turning away from him to hide the grin that painted your features.

even during that first day, you knew that you belonged here, with luffy and the others.

throughout the journeys you shared with them, you remained by their side.

from stitching up zoro's deep wounds, to healing nami's fever, somehow, you formed a tight bond with each and every one of them, never once taking them for granted.

you even managed to put up with sanji's quirky and flirtatious nature. during your travels, you realized that sanji had a particular fondness and weakness to beautiful women, watching in amusement as he attempted to woo them into his arms, only to fail miserably.

and during the times where the blond cook would flirt with you, you would simply brush it off or tease him back, never once taking him seriously since you knew he would simply flirt with or hit on any woman he came across.

but, that had to be such an isolated existence, right? despite how sanji acted like he was an open book and was able to share his heart with the world, you had a feeling that truly wasn't the case for him.

you could see that now, watching him all alone on the deck while his friends were asleep-

and the loneliness that he exuded resonated deeply within you. forgetting all about your prior exhaustion, you step closer to him while clearing your throat, alerting sanji to your presence. he sees you and snuffs out his cigarette, and your heart warmed at his thoughtfulness.

"a penny for your thoughts?" you lean against the ship's bannister, looking down at the ocean waves while admiring how it perfectly reflected the night sky above. you kept your gaze on the crescent moon, silently beckoning for sanji to speak.

you could hear the smile in his voice, "a penny for my thoughts, you say?" he chuckles a bit. "what? you think something's bothering me?"

you shrug, still keeping your gaze on the dark waters of the ocean. "yes. for starters it's well past the midnight hour, and you're still awake."

"so are you."

"this isn't about me, sanji." you laugh, letting out a sigh before meeting sanji's gaze. his eyes appeared darker from beneath the moonlight, and you found it hard to decipher his emotions and what he was thinking.

"to me, you're an anomaly." sanji's eyebrows furrow in response to your words, yet you continue to explain, "you put on such a carefree and happy façade, you flirt constantly with women, yet sometimes, i feel like you're achingly lonely."

you shut your eyes briefly before standing back to your full height, no longer leaning against the bannister as you look back at the ocean. "i sometimes wonder, just where is your heart at, sanji?"

"it's with you." sanji answers without hesitation, causing you to break out in a knowing smile. you already had a retort on the tip of your tongue, ready to rebuttal his flirtatious words like you always do-

that is, until you finally got a good look at him.

the faint scent of cigarette smoke still lingers in the air, and as your eyes met with his sea-green gaze once more, you saw a strange, unfamiliar glint within them. his soft strands of hair blew in tune with the wind, and he was looking at you like you were the only girl that existed in the entire world-

he was looking at you with an expression akin to that of love and adoration.

your heart was suddenly pounding now, lips parted as the air seemed to escape from your lungs in shallow breaths. yet still, sanji keeps his gaze on you, reaching out a hand to brush back your hair when he tells you,

"my heart is with you. it's been with you since the moment i first laid my eyes on you."

you could feel your head shake, "n-no, that's not true. there's no way..."

sanji's smile was wistful, seeming to recall your first meeting as he gently curls a strand of your hair with his fingertips. "i knew you didn't believe me then, but i meant what i said... you had captured my heart. and that feeling...that feeling never went away- even now."

he takes you in his arms then, allowing your hands to rest against his chest, where you could feel the steady racing of his heart from beneath the palm of your hand. your smile was wide now, and you allow yourself to lean up against him, pressing your lips against his in a sweet kiss.

sanji tasted of hot cocoa and faintly of smoke, the taste strangely addicting to you as you delved your fingers into his soft hair. the more his lips molded against yours, the more you felt yourself melting into him.

you cling to him, relishing in his warmth while looking up at him with adoration in your own gaze.

"i never thought, nor even dared to dream that you could even feel the same way for me." sanji was grinning now, allowing the tip of his nose to gently inhale the scent of your hair as you rested your head against his chest before admitting to him.

"my heart is with you, too."

a.n. - lowkey have the biggest crush on opla!sanji. he's actually so cute and swoonworthy 🥹. this is so self indulgent, and unedited, so i apologize for any mistakes / errors!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

My Superhero, Hamilfilm lyric Challenge Fic.

My entrance into @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ Hamilfilm Lyric Challenge, thank you so much for letting me join! I had fun with this. 

Lyric: We have seen each other through it all.

Character: Clint Barton

Pairing: Clint/Reader

Warnings: Angst, (maybe, I’m unsure of the definition of angst), Hopefully a mostly gender neutral reader. I try to be super ambiguous with all my reader characters. Female Reader (sorry I forgot he uses the pet name Princess) Mentions of Reader torture. Severe Dehydration, Gangs, Gang Violence, mentions of a few dead bad guys. Reader getting into tough situations. A DC reference - it makes sense, I promise. No beta reader because despite my best intentions I left this until the last minute again. (It’s 2am a day after due where I am :/ )Gunshot wounded good guy.

Credits: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ a-plan for the challenge, and @zombitch-cas​ for the divider.

5 times Clint saved you, and the 1 time you saved him.

You still remembered the first day you met Clinton Francis Barton, a memory you were sure had burnt itself into every corner of your brain. 

It hadn’t been a sunny day, nor a rainy one, yet it hovered somewhere in between, a damp mugginess that had the shipping container you were in heated to what you imagined hell to feel like. Sandpaper slipped out of your mouth, an attempt to moisten your cracked, bleeding lips, or maybe an attempt to catch a bit of the sweat dripping off your body, a drop or two of water, something to soothe the ache in your throat. You weren’t too sure anymore, all your brain could do was scream out for liquid, you’d take anything at all in that moment. 

It was an effort to open your eyes, the bright light they’d left on in the container burning into way too dry iris’, forcing yourself to focus, you searched for anything within reach that could quench your thirst, calm the raging heat racing through your veins, threatening to turn your body to ash. Your eyes fell shut, fighting your orders to open, to find something, anything. 

The creak of the doors had your eyes obeying once more, praying it was your tormentors, coming back to either give you water, or finally put you out of your misery. You hadn’t told them anything, you didn’t have the answers they wanted. 

It wasn’t your normal tormentors standing in the doorway, but instead a man in a navy blue costume. You struggled to stay focused on it, forcing yourself to note the little things. He was wearing what looked like a reinforced wetsuit, but the left hand sleeve had been cut off, revealing a strong muscular arm that flexed as he lowered his bow and unnotched an arrow. You ignored the stinging in your eyes to see a weirdly gloved hand running through sandy blonde hair as the man’s steel blue eyes scanned both you and the container that was your cell. The needles stabbing in your eyes prodded your brain, and they fell closed despite your attempts to keep them open. 

“How-” Your voice cracked, struggling to talk with how dry your throat was. “How you gonna torture me with that Aquaman?” You forced yourself to speak anyway, he had to know you weren’t afraid, you weren’t about to just give up, no matter what he was about to do to you.

“Aquaman?” Came the offended response, a pause, before you heard movement coming towards you, you braced yourself for a blow of some kind, revenge for your comment. But instead gloved hands softly grasped your bruised face, turning it. “I have water, can you open your mouth?” Your left eye cracked open, scanning him until they settled on a bottle of water, you licked your lips automatically, unable to take your eyes off it. “Only a few sips, if you drink too much you’ll be sick.” You felt something cool press to your lips, and you opened them, greedily taking the small amount he offered, unable to hide back a sigh of relief as you felt it moisten your mouth before rolling down your throat. The heat around your chest lessened as the cool water raced to settle in your stomach. You followed the bottle as it moved away, straining against both your shoulders and the chains that forced them to stay above your head.

“You can have more in a few minutes. I’m going to unbolt the chains around your feet okay?” You heard shuffling, before feeling hands brush along your ankles and feet. You felt the moment they fell off, ignoring the clunk of them falling to the floor, pulling each up close to your chest, relishing in the fact they were no longer pulled as tight as they could go. It had been so long that you were sure they’d stretched you at least a foot longer. 

“Will you be alright with my arm around your waist? I need to hold you against me so you don’t collapse when I release your wrists.” You opened an eye, watching as he stood up and shifted to stand behind you. “Kinda hard to rescue you if you’re chained to the roof there Princess.” He prompted when you hadn’t answered, waiting for your permission to touch you.

“They uh-” You wanted to motion at your stomach, at all the cuts and bruises that had been roughly bandaged up in an attempt not to kill you before you could tell them everything, but your hands were still bound. The strange man seemed to understand what you were hinting at regardless, lifting up your shirt and making a sound that reminded you of a wince. You were pretty sure at least two of your lower ribs were broken, and you would have the bruises to prove it. 

“I’ll try be gentle.” His arm wrapped around you, settling just under your bust where the least amount of cuts and bruising was. It was a gentle embrace for a moment, letting you adjust as he shifted around you, you felt him settle moments before he pulled you back against his chest. “Countdown from ten.” He ordered, 

“10, 9,” It hurt your vocal cords, but it had to be for a reason right? “8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3,” The arm around your chest tightened, lifting you up, and with it, took the weight off of your wrists. You heard his hand move, the chains rattling as he did so. “2, 1.”  Jelly arms instantly collapsed, weight coming off your shoulders as your hands crashed into your sides. The man shifted behind you, before you were lifted into a bridal hold. 

“Alright Princess, let’s get you back to your castle.”

To say you were screwed was the understatement of the century. Your employer had given you false information, everything they had on this job had been a lie. Whatever undercover informant they thought they had was clearly a double agent. Which meant this had been a suicide mission from the start. Something you would have loved to have known before you got to this point. 

In fact, maybe even before you wasted 3 months building a cover, and getting what you thought was real information out to your supposed handler. Or, even just 1 hour sooner, before you’d been sent to the basement to get files - a task you’d done several times before - except this time, they’d been waiting for you, and with a quick blow to the head, you were out. 

Which was why you were back here, strung up in a shipping container, and staring your former tormentor in the eyes as money changed hands behind him, one goon paying off your grinning employer, eyes gleaming as he stared into a duffle bag full of cash. 

“Everyone loved hearing about how a pretty little Shield Agent rolled in here and rescued you. Ruined that reputation you worked so hard to build.” Your tormentor reaches out to stroke your face, and you flinch away, only to feel the pull through your shoulders as the chains caught and kept you still. “Made it so much easier to get someone to turn you in. Give you back to me.”

“I thought they brought you all down.” You had heard your mystery rescuer talk about it over comms as he carried you out to where a medical team was waiting, returning to the building as soon as you were with the Doctors. 

“They didn't know how big we really are, the reach we have.” His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head to one side. “Their mistake.” You felt a knife press gently against your neck. “Mine was letting you escape, and I assure you, it won’t be one I make again.” You pull your hair free of his grasp, taking the briefest moment to glance at your supposed employer as they took the cash and left without a backwards glance and with it, your hope that you might be freed. 

~~~~ 3 weeks later ~~~~

Your head is heavy, static buzzing through it as you hung from your wrists, wait- your arms were down by your sides, no tension stretching your shoulders from above your head. Were you lying on a bed? There was something oddly soft beneath your back. What trick was your tormentor playing on you now?

“Hey Sleeping Beauty, it’s Aquaman, you’re safe.” You feel a calloused hand slide into yours. “You’re in a hospital room, the docs say you had a rough time, but you’ll make a full recovery. Go back to sleep, I’ll be here, nothing will happen to you.” You recognise his voice, your lips twitching upwards, stinging as it pulls at the cuts and bruises that you know cover your face. “Yeah, you’re due more pain meds, the nurse will be by soon.” You want to nod, to respond, to say thanks for rescuing me once more, but you couldn’t, not when you were being dragged back into the sweet release of sleep.

You take a deep breath in, glad to smell something other than the hauntingly clean smell of hospital. Even if it was just the hospital gardens you had escaped to, the nurse gave you permission to leave your room as long as you were in a wheelchair. An order you had obeyed, until you had found a quiet corner of the garden, until you were alone. Your first step up had been shaky, clinging onto the bench you’d decided to use for support. Your next was okay, hands outstretched as you tried to balance on shaky legs that screamed in pain.

“Princess.” You pause as the man you know as Aquaman jogged up to you, he was free of his wetsuit, wearing normal everyday clothes. Black ripped jeans, and a plain lilac shirt covered by a black leather jacket. He lifts his sunglasses when he reaches you, steel blue eyes giving you the once over, lingering on your injuries as he assesses if you should even be out by yourself. “What are you doing?”

“Going for a walk Aquaman, it’s what us surface dwellers do.” You tease, taking another shaky step. He instantly steps closer, one arm wrapping around your waist to support your weight. 

“It’s also something you aren’t supposed to do.” He sighs, shaking his head, but moving with you as you continue to take small steps along the path. 

“Where were you?” He had promised to not leave your side, and today was the first time you had woken up without him.

“Called up to work for a moment. Sorry Princess.” He sweeps an arm under your legs, scooping you into a bridal hold before you even notice your own legs buckling. “I want you to come work with me. We had a meeting to discuss how we could do it, if you’re willing.” He places you on the bench rather than in the wheelchair, sitting down beside you. 

“I don’t need your pity. I’ve been looking after myself my whole life.” You knew you were ruined, if your tormentor had actually spread that you had been rescued by a government agent there was little chance of you ever working again. Not with the crowds of people that would hire someone with your talents. But you didn’t need this... Aquaman offering you a job out of pity.

“I know you have, and it's not pity. It’s my fault- our fault, that this happened. If we had done our jobs properly, if we hadn’t listened to that damned rat.” You reach out to take his hand as it clenches into a fist, his whole body stiffening with anger. “But you’ve been on our radar for a while now, not really in a good way, but you weren’t one of the kill on sight, so... anyway, bosses said yes, they’ll draw up a contract for you to look over and you can decide after that.” A smile tugs at your lips as he rambles, his other hand running through his hair.

“Will your bosses ever trust someone who once worked for the other side?” He barks out a laugh, looking down at you with a knowing smile.

“God I hope so, I was on the kill on sight list. So was my best friend, we’re the top agents now.” He sat down next to you, entangling his fingers through yours. You shift, turning towards him as he does the same. “All I know is I can never bear to see you in another container, strapped up and tortured. I need to know where you are, know you’re safe.” His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, leaning in closer. He moves slowly, giving you a chance to pull away, but you don't, leaning closer as your eyes fall closed. His lips are gentle on yours, brushing past and pausing, another chance for you to pull away, to stop him. 

But you don’t, you don’t want to. Your free hand moves to tangle in his shirt, leaning back against the bench as you tug his body to crash against yours, slipping your hand to his waist before it could be trapped in between you two. A smile rests on his lips as they press to yours, it disappears when a gentle pressure on your cheek tilts it, slotting your lips together. Your lips dance, both of you barely pulling away to gasp for air before leaning back into each other. 

“Breath Princess.” He pulls away first, despite your hand on his back trying to keep him close. Your lungs screaming for air, forcing you to concede. He chuckles, his forehead rests against yours, thumb stroking your cheek, his chest heaving as much as yours was. 

“I guess I should stop calling you Aquaman, and start calling you my knight in shining armour.” You whisper, opening your eyes and looking up at him.

“You can call me whatever you want Princess, but my name is Clint, Clint Barton.” He pulls back slightly, a wide smile on his face. “To be honest, Aquaman is starting to grow on me.” You laugh at the smirk and wink he gives you, before moving your hand to his head and pulling his lips back down to yours. “So does this mean you’ll consider coming to work with me?” He asked, pulling away from your lips. 

“I’ll think about it.” He groans and you laugh, you probably would take the job, it wasn’t like there was much of a choice, if your name really was ruined... you’d still need to work, earn money, and to have the government protecting you from the target on the back. But if your name wasn’t ruined, if you still had everything you’d worked for? 

Then again, if anyone learnt about your Aquaman you’d be screwed anyway. 

The least you could do was look at the contract and consider it. 

“Princess.” A hand waves in front of your face, you blink, turning to look at Clint. “I said we should head back up, if you’re ready?” He was offering you his hand, and it was so much more than just an offer of help to return to your hospital room. 

You hesitate, looking between him and his hand, wondering if you were really ready for all of this. 

But then he smiles at you, eyes dancing with glee and mischief, and you know your answer. 

“I swear to God Clint!” You raise your voice, yelling over the gunfire you were somehow surrounded by. You were both on a mission, your first solo mission since you had joined Shield, since you had started dating Clint. A test of how well you could work together in a professional situation. One you know he'd been bugging his bosses for since you started. The chance to be alone with you, away from Headquarters. Clint had tried to take time off, but hadn’t had much luck, always being sent to a new place, a new mission. Between that and the fact you were a new, barely trusted, recruit meant that you didn’t get much alone time yourself.

Here your job was to sow doubt in the minds of the two gangs in the area. Get them working against each other, as well as against themselves. Shield was worried they would combine forces, take over the city, then turn their sites on the entire country, making yet another Mafia-State. Your job was to stop it before it could get that far. 

Clint’s job was to have your back from a rooftop far too far away for your liking, but he swore up and down he was good for it, the distance wouldn’t be much of an issue. Stubbornly, he refused to move any closer, so you were forced to deal with it. 

Part of the plan had been to shoot a member of the Onyx Tribe in front of the others, blame it on the other gang, the Brotherhood of Shadows. Flames to fuel the fire you were slowly adding gas to, but not yet, things weren’t ready yet. Yes, there were members of the Onyx Tribe watching as you walked into the Brotherhood’s headquarters, you had planned it that way. You had not expected to watch one of their bodies fall as you exited, nor to be forced to run towards the nearest car and duck behind it as bullets started flying. Wishing more than ever that you could have taken a gun in with you, had something to defend yourself with.

“I am in your ear Princess, you don’t need to yell at me.” Comes his quick yet grumpy response, you can hear him shuffling in the background, clearly repositioning himself now that you were caught in the middle of it all.

“The plan was for me to get out before you started the turf war! And-” You look around, you need to get out of here, you weren’t aligned with either side, they both had seen you in each other's headquarters, it was the whole reason you were here. If things were going down, neither side was going to risk life and limb for you.

“I DIDN’T!” You recognise the stress in his voice, hearing more shuffling. “I’m looking, but I can’t find the shooter. You need to get out of there.” 

“Where? Nowhere is safe. I step out from behind this car and every bullet will be aimed at me.” You hear a tsk before the line falls silent, letting you concentrate on getting yourself out of there safely. 

Your eyes dart everywhere, seeing all the civilians that were cowering for safety, seemingly all too comfortable with what they should do when gunshots rang out. They were all slowly making their way into the nearest buildings, to safety. You needed to do the same, get out of there before you were one of the bodies that dropped.

“There’s a Brotherhood tango, coming up your right hand side, he may not be dangerous. I’m watching.” You turn to face the left, squaring yourself up so that you could dodge out of the way if a gun was aimed at you. If Clint took him out at least you’d have a weapon. 

“You okay Sweetheart?” You breathe a sigh of relief as one of the mobsters comes into view, his gun still in hand, but held down by his leg. He offers you a hand up and you take it, standing. “Seems like they sent a couple of thugs to watch you, and didn’t like what they saw.” You force a laugh, 

“Thanks for saving me.” You bat your eyes at him, flirting as if he was your hero. He smiles back, listening as the last gun shot rings out, voices yelling to each other instead. Around you, the civilians breathed a sigh of relief, all rushing out of the area before things could get worse.

“Excuse me?” Clint growls in your ear, “he didn’t do anything.” Neither did you Aquaman. You shake your head with a chuckle. It is best to flirt with the brotherhood thug, pretend to be weak and helpless, just caught in the crossfire. As long as the brotherhood doesn't suspect you a ‘traitor’ you would be safe with them.

“Let’s get you inside.” You take a step out from behind the car, back into the open. The thug behind you steps closer, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back. You offer him a smile in response, leaning back towards him. You need him to protect you, he had to believe he was. 

“GET DOWN!” You duck as soon as Clint yells at you, feeling a whoosh of air tug at your hair. You twirl back behind the car, turning to see the thug who had come to your rescue laying on the ground, blood seeping from a fresh hole in his torso. The wind must have been a bullet, narrowly missing you.

"Get me out of here!" You hear a dark chuckle from the other end of the line, before the unmistakable sound of a sniper rifle being fired. 

“Let me sweep for more. Stay there.” There was no laughter nor joking in his tone anymore, it had gone the moment you both realised you were the target. Something much bigger was at play than just the pair of you getting to spend some time together, while instigating a gang war. 

“How did the other Brotherhood members react?” Your fingers were itching to reach out for the gun on the sidewalk, but it was on the other side of the dead man, too far out from your hiding place. You would need the surprise element Clint offered you if you were to have any chance of defending yourself. 

“Busy.” Comes the muttered reply in your ear.

“Clint-” You need to know, your life depends on it, but you fall silent as he growls, clearly trying to concentrate. 

“Stay low, keep objects on your left, move quickly. I can’t see another sniper, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t. There may also be a ground team. I’ll call for an emergency evac, meet at the rendezvous point.” You waited for him to speak again, shifting your weight from foot to foot, ready to leap at someone before they could get the drop on you.

“Clint I’m unarmed and in the middle of a turf war. I can’t just-” There was no way there isn’t backup on the way. Even if it was just people to collect the bodies of their fellow gang mates. The danger hasn’t passed, even if the bullets stopped flying.

“Then you’ll come to me, and we’ll go together. I’ll cover your retreat to me.” You nod, sticking your hand out to the left, towards the sidewalk, waiting to see if anyone else was going to fire at you. “It’s clear.” You move quickly, staying doubled over as best as you can, pausing only to sweep up the thugs gun, at least now you have a weapon.

The gang members that remain alive call after you as soon as you step out from behind the car, but you ignore them, walking quickly towards the building you know Clint is set up in. The second you are clear of the block you break out into a run. It probably isn’t the smartest idea, but the more space you can put between you and them the better. 

“You’re clear so far. I’ll start packing down when you reach the next block. See you soon Princess.” You don’t pause as Clint speaks softly in your ear, nor do you reply, you have to keep going. It was already suspicious enough that you were fleeing the scene of a turf war with a gun in your hand, holding a conversation with someone that isn’t beside you could only make things look even worse for you. The sooner you get to Clint, the better.

You throw yourself through the revolving doors, barely pausing before running up the stairs, straight to the highest floor, where you know Clint would be. Where you had left him a few hours earlier. 

“Princess.” Clint breathes a sigh of relief, lowering the gun he had aimed at the door when it opened. You don’t waste any time, crossing the room and leaping into his arms, Clint catches you, wrapping his arms around you to both support your weight and hold you close to him. “I was so worried.” You press your lips to his, tangling a hand through his hair.

“We need to get out of here.” You whisper, moving your forehead to rest against his. His head follows yours, pressing another kiss to your lips.

‘Whoever is after you, I will stop them.” He shifts one hand up to grasp at the back of your head, pulling your lips into another bruising, desperate kiss. “I will protect you.” His breath rolls cross your lips as he whispers. 

“I know you will.” You whisper back, unwrapping your legs from around his waist. Clint understood, setting you down before going back to packing up his sniper. It gave you a chance to look around, the room isn’t as you had left it. There was a body on the floor, a man tied up, bound and only just breathing. 

“I’m fine Princess, a damn superhero.” Clint catches your gaze, reaching out with one hand to lift your face to his, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

“I know, but I’ve got your back too.” You whisper back, only to hear Clint chuckle. 

“I know you do Princess.”

You had promised to have his back, to protect him from the people who wanted you dead as well as the people who wanted him gone. The people who slipped through Shields cracks, or those you were assigned to investigate. 

But you hadn’t been there. No one had. You and Natasha had been sent on an undercover mission, radio silence with headquarters until your covers were established and it was safe. But they should have broken the rules, should have called you the moment their name came up. They should have never given Barton the case, not without proper backup, without anyone other than you or Natasha. It was personal for him, it always had been. 

It was why you were here. Why you and Natasha were both here. The two women Clint Barton loved more than anyone and anything else in the world. The two women who loved him more than anything else in the world.

It had started the second you had checked in, Agent Coulson had cut your handler off with two words that had sickening dread grasping on to your very soul. ‘They have him.’ Natasha needed more than that, but you knew, you knew. 

Coulson had given you a last known location, and nothing would stop you from finding him.

Nothing had stopped you from finding him. 

The things Shield had taught you meant that you were better, stronger, smarter than you were last time you were in this compound. Places you’d been dragged to while you were drugged and half-conscious were now places you recognised, directing teams with a silent flick of your hand, before it returned to the auto rifle you were carrying. 

It meant that things that used to scare you no longer did, taking down everyone and everything that got between you and the man who had saved you so many times before. The man who needed you now.

It wasn’t luck that you ended up here, alone. Everyone else split off at your order to follow down other paths. You knew the chance of Clint being where you sent them was low, but there would be others, information and back up that could be handled by them while you found Clint.

You fire two shots, each hitting the guards standing dead in the chest, ignoring the sound as their bodies slumped to the floor. Blank eyes staring up at you. 

You pause in front of the door, the one you knew Clint was behind, the one that had once held you as they shifted between bases. Here, a place you had never been able to name or describe, but now instinctively knew. 

You reach out with one hand, keeping the other on the trigger. You only twisted the door a little, enough to open it, before withdrawing your hand. You would need both on the gun if someone else was in there. The second your hand was on the gun you were kicking the door open. Trying to ignore the feeling of dread that was growing stronger and stronger in the pit of your stomach. The part of you that is screaming ’you’re too late’. 

Tears welled in your eyes. Clint was alone, the room mostly empty, aside from a table, then him, strung up by his wrists to the ceiling, more chains holding his ankles down to the ground. You could feel the stretch in your own shoulders, as if it were you strung up there once more. The cuts and bruises that litter his bare chest could easily be matched with the scars on yours. The only difference was that unlike you, dehydrated to the point of insanity, he was drenched in water.

“Clint, Clint baby I’m here.” You set the gun down on the table, moving past it to his side. You weren’t strong enough to lift him, not the way he had you. Hopefully, he would have the strength to help you help him. 

Your hands went to his face, one slipping down to his neck, checking for a pulse. A sob left your lips when you found one, slow, weak, barely there, but a pulse nonetheless. Your other hand taps on his cheek, an attempt to wake Clint, see some form of life within him. 

“I’m going to get your ankles, okay baby?” You speak softly, bending down to unshackle his ankles. You felt his feet twitch, and looked up just in time to see steel blue eyes sliding closed. A sigh of relief left your lips, he was okay, he was awake.

“I thought he was your Aquaman?” You jump, the door to the room slams closed, your gun grabbed off the table and pointed at you as you reach for it. “I told you I wasn’t going to make the mistake of letting you go again. You’ve delayed this long enough.” You raise your hands in the air, knowing it was what he wants from you. A part of you asked how he knew what you had originally called Clint, what you still call him on occasion. 

“You’ve got me, let him go.” You know better than to beg, know better than to think it would work, but you had to try. It was your fault Clint was here, strung up in your place. But he couldn’t save you from this, he was right, he had only managed to delay this moment. You always end up back here.  In a room like this, helpless and needing rescue.

“You know better than that, if I let him go he’ll just save you again. No, I realised a while ago that I had to take out your guardian angel to get to you. I was hoping you’d both take the bait, but lover boy here came alone. I knew you wouldn’t be too far behind.” 

“At least let me help him down, he isn’t conscious-” There was a pause, “You can’t string me up if he’s there.” Hopefully he hadn’t noticed Clint awake, maybe then you could lure him here, a ruse to help get him down, and you up. The two of you should be able to overpower him, all it would take was a brief moment of adrenaline from Clint, one last time he would need to save you, so that you could save him. 

“I do like seeing you strung up in front of me.” He kept the gun pointed on you as he moves closer, one hand coming off the gun to tangle in your hair and tug it to one side. It was Clint’s time to act, and he took it, somehow he found the strength to haul his whole body up, wrapping his thighs around your tormentor’s throat and squeezing. 

You go for the gun, hands wrapping around the muzzle as shots ring out, you feel the hot metal as it sears into your skin, but no pain comes of it, instead you wrench the weapon out of his grasp and toss it to the side. A hand coming down to your waist and grabbing a knife, plunging it in the chest of the man who was slowly turning blue. 

“He’s gone baby.” Clint’s body goes slack at your words, your tormentor falling to the ground, but you pay it no mind, how could you when at the same moment Clint’s eyes roll back in his head. “NO!” You reach out with a hand, only to find it covered in a warm sticky substance. Blood. Clint’s blood. 

You scramble to cover the bullet holes in his chest, reaching around the other side only to find matching exit wounds. Three lifting across his chest and two the right, the way the gun had been facing when the trigger had been pulled. You knew you were screaming and crying, words you couldn’t hear falling off your lips. 

Natasha was the first to find you, a whole strike team on her heels and medic’s on theirs. It didn’t take them long to cut Clint down, lay him on a stretcher, and start racing him off to the nearest quinjet. 

“Go.” Natasha’s voice was the first you heard, her hands guiding yours to the stretcher and making sure you were grasping on to it. The world spins back into focus within the next few seconds. 

“We’re losing him!” The medic’s cry grips your heart, they weren’t losing him, you were.

“Clint baby.” You speak softly, ignoring the way blood gargles in his throat as he gasps for air his lungs can’t feel. “We have seen each other through it all. You can’t leave me alone now. I need you.” I will always need you.

“Good job Agent, he’s fighting to hold on.” One of the medic’s encouraged you, making sure that you stayed with them the entire rush through the compound. You reach out, taking one of Clint’s hands in yours, trying to ignore the cold clamminess they emitted.

“He’ll be fine, right?” The medic smiled sadly at you, they couldn’t promise you anything. Not even as you all raced onto the quinjet and took off for the nearest hospital.

“I’ll be okay.” You look down, only to see steel blue eyes looking back up into yours. Clint turning his head and spitting out blood before turning back to you with a soft smile.

“Don’t talk, save your strength.” You scold quickly, leaning closer and pressing a kiss to his forehead. One hand running through his hair, getting the wet strands out of his face. “You owe me a whole lot for saving your arse this time.” A bark of laughter left Clint’s lips, quickly turning into a cough that had you helping him turn for, so he could spit out the blood that came up with it. 

“I think you’ll find I saved you Princess.” He forced himself to speak talking, but you could see the toll it was taking on him, his face was growing paler, a sweat breaking out over his body. 

“Whatever, Aquaman.” Another sob left your lips as his eyes rolled back in his head, the medic’s forcing you out of the way and yelling something you couldn’t hear, the world falling silent around you.

Bonus Epilogue! Because I couldn’t just leave it there. 

“You know, I am a superhero myself now, you don’t have to keep buying merchandise for the pretend ones.” You laugh as Clint comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek. 

“I happen to like Aquaman thank you very much.” You reply, gently placing the extremely rare mug back onto your shelf of family treasures. 

“Oh, what’s he got that I don’t?” Clint starts to slide his hands away, but you turn to face him, looping yours around his neck. 

“Well-” Clint glares as you start to tease him, “He’s got this pretty awesome spouse.” Clint chuckles, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“I know I do. I love you Princess.” He whispers, pulling away only slightly.

“I love you too Aquaman.” You reply, tugging his lips back down to yours.

Hidden Scars

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI.1 / XI.2 XII - XIII - XIV - XV

Chapter 16

You’re growing restless. Without having the latest idea of how much time has passed, without the faintest possibility of knowing if it’s day or night, with so little to do, you’re starting to lose your mind.

When Miranda had you in the cell of her apartment, she kept you somewhat entertained with the surprise of something new and unexpected every day. For as scary and painful and confusing it could be, it was still something.

Now that you’re in that confined space with her, your head is spinning with hundreds of thoughts and scenarios that make you feel dizzy.

You’ve thrown up a few times already, the throbbing in your head so intense that you’ve barely registered how Miranda had tucked you in the blanket and forced you to swallow every last drop of water you still had from the bottles, risking dehydration herself.

You don’t know if you’ve imagined it or dreamed it, but at some point you’ve even heard her banging on the door, demanding at least some medicine or more water or some food. Perhaps they thought you were putting on a show and didn't believe her words, but you were glad that after a nap - that could have lasted half an hour or even days - you were feeling better.

Rubbing at your still upset stomach, you watch her doing push-ups on the floor, keeping count even though she hasn’t asked you to, and squeeze your eyes tight when the movements of her body going up and down make your head spin again. The sharp intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you feeling ill again?” She asks, her voice urgent.

Cracking one eye open and swallowing thickly, you shake your head. She’s still on the floor, arms outstretched as she supports her weight, her whole body rigid and perfectly toned, when you exhale.

“I don’t know what it is.” You mumble, rubbing your forehead with the pad of your fingers. You’re vaguely aware that your hand is shaking.

“It’s this damn place, it’s what it is.” She snarls, rolling on her side and sitting crossed-leg in the middle of the small space. She’s studying you. “And you’re dehydrated.” She informs you.

“You’ve kept me without food and water for longer than this- I think.”

“I knew what I was doing.” She spits back, lifting her chin slightly.

“From what I remember,” You took a shaky intake of air while a weary smile tugged at your mouth, “you had to force-feed me at one point.”

Miranda narrows her eyes. Any other time you would fear the outcome of your bravery - or stupidity - for snapping back, but now you’re grateful for the reassuring tinge of playfulness that flashes on her face.

“You’ve always been a handful.” She murmurs. “Always had that fire. That’s what makes you so-”

She’s cut off abruptly when you hear some clanging noises coming from the other side of the door. You’re mentally cursing whatever o whoever has caused her to stop, because right now you can only care about what her words might’ve been if she had the opportunity to finish that sentence, but on the other hand, you can feel how grave the situation is by the way she tenses up.

In response, you tense up as well, struggling to focus on the door just like she’s doing. A pregnant silence has descended in the cell when she cautiously spins around to face the only way in and out, as if she’s ready to jump at anyone attempting to enter your space, like a lioness defending the territory.

It makes you feel safe.

The noises stop for a moment, then you hear something being dropped on the floor, the metal dragging on tiles and, finally, from underneath the door, a small flap swings open to let a sad-looking tray slide in.

You hear Miranda sigh heavily as she retrieves the tray, inspecting the content with a curious wince. You’d say she’s disgusted, but there’s a strange glimpse in her eyes when she pushes it close to you, grabbing a bottle of water and opening it for you before handing it over.

You roll your eyes, biting your tongue to prevent snapping at her that you’re perfectly capable of opening bottles - though, probably, you’re not right now - and take a tentative gulp.

Charmed by what intentions might be, you watch her grab one of the two energy bars, ripping the cover off with her teeth and taking small bites.

“Eat.” She says, sitting crossed-legged next to you. “Do it slowly, it tricks your stomach into believing it’s more food.” She instructs.

You eye the other energy bar, the pack of crackers, the few grapes that are scattered around the plate randomly. It doesn’t make sense and it makes you suspicious, despite the fact that she’s eating.

“What if it’s drugged?” You murmur, throwing a pitiful glance over. Your stomach is still upset and the last thing you wish to do is spend the next few hours retching again.

“It’s highly possible.” Miranda agrees, but keeps chewing. “But it’s the only source of nourishment they’ll give us and you need the fluids.”

“We’re taking chances?” You scoff, curling on yourself and hugging your knees protectively.

“I’m not taking chances.” Miranda sighs, she sounds annoyed. “You can handle the majority of drugs, you’re immune as much as I am. Do you really think I would take a risk like that?”

“I, uh-” You stare at her, mouth agape, blinking in puzzlement.

“Or we can always recreate one of our first days together, m’eudail, and I can shove those grapes into your mouth one by one and keep my hands on your pretty lips until you’ve swallowed everything down like the good girl you are, shall we do that?”

You gulp automatically, fighting the depraved thrill that has crawled down your spine, like a shiver, as soon as she’s started talking like that.

Weakly, you shake your head no, choosing to take another large gulp of water, instead, hoping that the heat would go away with your dry throat.

“Are we really immune, though?” You ask with a frown.

Miranda shrugs, not entirely convinced - you can see she’s hesitant.

“I did try my best and you responded well enough.”

“Evening drinks?”

Miranda cracks a broken smile in your direction.

“Clever girl.” She smirks, going in for the other bottle and taking a sip before closing it up again, perhaps saving it for later.

“You knew-” You murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, “You knew this would happen someday, that somebody would actually come and get you.”

“I tried my best not to let it happen.” Miranda sighs back, and you can tell by the slight quiver in her voice that she’s telling the truth. “I tried my best not to let it happen to you, but I couldn’t be sure to grant you complete safety so- I needed to prepare you.” She adds, her voice heavier, somehow.

Silence falls. You watch her chew the few remnants of her bar and then fidget with the wrapping. It seems like she’s playing, but you know by the gentle crease on her forehead and her unblinking eyes that she’s planning something. You decide not to disturb her and focus on putting something in your stomach: you’re hungry, and yet you don’t exactly feel like eating your bar, nor the grapes; thinking your body would appreciate something salty and dry, you heave a sigh and reach out for the crackers.

“Wait.” Miranda’s hand wraps your wrist in an instant, quick and efficient like a snake. She grabs the crackers before you do and you’re left watching her, mesmerized, as she meticulously works the nail of her thumb to scrape every salt crystal off, offering the crackers to you, one by one, as soon as she’s bared them.

At first, you think it’s the tricky part of the food, where they’ve stored the drugs or the poisonous substance, but then you see her gather the salt in the wrapping paper and ball it up as tight and as small as possible.

You quickly eye the camera, wondering how she managed to make it look unsuspicious or why on Earth would she think that no one would ask anything about her curious actions.

“What are you doing?” You dare to ask then, watching her placing the little envelope in full display, next to the extra unopened water bottle.

“You’ll thank me later.” Miranda says, but her voice is completely emotionless. She eyes the shiny ball of wrapping paper with spite. “Trust me.”

“You know I do.” You murmur sincerely, offering her a timid smile.

Miranda heaves a small breath, shifts closer to you, grabs all the crackers and spends the next ten minutes passing one unsalted cracker after the other. After making sure you’ve eaten everything, she kisses the corner of your mouth and licks a crumb off.

“Good girl.”

I Need You

This is part 11 of The Cowboy and the Girl. It’s been forever I know. This fic is kinda hard to write. Gotta be in the right head space haha. Anyway here it is hope you like it.

Fic Summary: Trish remembers a dark part of her past.

Joel Miller x OC Trish

Warnings: Language, attempt at suicide, talk of murder,

I would love tag you: @amandamaesweetheart @jodiereedus22 @el-dibidibidorado1 @yourgirltaz​ @lemondropirwin​ @iovemoon​ @lookinsidemyhead​ @my-awakened-ghost​ @avengerssstuff​

Part 1  Part 10

I woke up to my mouth dry, that plus the thumping in my head told me I was most likely dehydrated.

Joel was nowhere to be seen but Ellie was putting her blanket inside her backpack.

“Where’s Joel?” I ask as I push myself up from the floor falling off the bean bag chair at some point in the night.

“No good morning?” She asks, smiling at me.

“Sorry, good morning.” I say getting my own bag to pack up.

“Joel went to go get Bill, guess he’s in a hurry to get rid of me.” She says shrugging, her eyes downcast.

“Don’t take it personally he’s in a hurry to get rid of me too.” I say despite what happened last night.

“Why do you say that? I got the feeling he likes you.” She says making my heart pick up a bit.

“He tolerates me. I make him like me.”

“So is that what I should do?”

“I think you should just be yourself, because you're awesome.”

“Your right I am pretty cool.” She says grinning.

“What are you two amaering about?” Joel asks walking into the room holding all of our cantens.

“You.” I say honestly watching him left an eyebrow in my direction.

“What about me?” He asks, handing me my canten it full of fresh water.

I quickly open it and take a drink so I don’t have to answer.

“Are you ready to go? I have other crap to do besides help you idiots.” Bill says stomping into the room.

‘How can someone be mad this early in the morning?’ I think as I put my backpack on.

“We’re ready.” Joel says jerking his head towards the door as if to tell us to get going.

I do as he said ready for whatever the day is gonna bring.

That was the thing about the end of the world. You didn’t get to wake up whenever you wanted, have a nice cup of coffee, watch some TV or browse the web. You hit the ground running and you made every little thing count.

It was hard and fast but it was the only way to stay alive.

Maybe that’s why I stuck close to Joel. Him never seeming to crack. He could go for what felt like months without sleep. He was strong and resurfull. They taught us in school that a female picks her mate, whoever is the strongest. In this world, I understood that.

Joel knew exactly how to lead us through anything.

He walked through a yard full of clickers like he was taking a stroke through the park. My heart was beating out of my chest the whole time but Joel knew when to stop and when to go.

I watched as he would use a bottle or a brick to distract them. Him using the bow we found yesterday to take out the runners.

I would sometimes get lost watching him. I knew it was stupid and pointless but I couldn’t stop the pull I had towards him.

I hated it truthfully. I knew getting attached to someone always ended in pain. The still fresh loss of Tess proved that.

Joel was cold but he was colder since it happened. I think we all were. None of us spoke as we snuck around the infected town trying not to get eaten alive.

But there was just something different about today. Something in my gut that I couldn’t shake. It hit me like a ton of bricks as we walked through a house a dead guy hanging from the ceiling. This could all be over in a split second.

“He killed himself?” Ellie asks but it sounds more like she was shocked.

“Yeah come on you don’t need to see this.” I say grabbing her wrist gently, pulling her back outside.

“I’ve seen worse.” She says making my heart clench.

“Well that doesn't mean you should see more horrible things.” I say take a breath.

“Are you okay?” She asks looking at me as I lean on the side of the house.

“Yeah, I just know what it’s like to be in that headspace. It’s not the best place to be.” I say memories filling my mind.

I sat on the wet ground, my hands numb, my breath puffing out in a cloud. Rain poured down on me but I didn’t move. I stayed on my knees, it was how I fell after I took another life.

I was surrounded by corpses. Not the infected kind but the very human kind. Most people would claim they had to. There was no other choice. But that’s not true. I could have talked, told them what they wanted.

That would have stopped them, or at least kept them from using me the way they wanted. I guess that didn’t matter now. It was too late.

I was covered in their blood in the literal sense. My clothes were torn and ripped. I could feel my muscles twitch the adrinial still pumping thru my veins. My heart, fighting to keep me alive in the condition I was in.

But I didn’t care, I felt numb. But why wouldn’t I be? I was a killer. The lifeless child in front of me was proof of that. Him killed by me before I even thought about it.

His father was the first to go, him leaving me laying the mud after he forced himself on me. Him not realizing he left a knife behind.

It's funny how fast you can kill someone with a blade. Your brain just cuts everything off, you black out and wake up to carrange.

It is most likely why Joel left me behind. Him seeing me black out like this one too many times. Waking up alone then being ambushed and taken away for days makes you care less about the people around you and care more about how to get out alive.

I jump when hands grab my shoulders. With the survival knife still in my hand I lift it ready to kill again before I even think about it.

“Trish it’s me.” Says a hoarse voice.

I blink away the rain looking up into the bruised face of Joel Miller.

“What happened?” He asks, pulling off his flannel and laying it over my shoulders.

It made me realize how bad I was shaking.

I drop the knife falling backwards, the mub slapping around me.

“I-I killed him.” I say looking at the kid.

“What happened?” Joel asks again, moving to help me to my feet. Them asleep, sharp tingles shooting through them.

My knees buckle under me, Joel catches me before I fall him letting out a grunt as he does. I look at him seeing a bleeding wound on his shoulder and maybe his side. All I could see was blood coming through his soaking wet white T-shirt.

“They took me.. I..” I don’t finish my sentence as Joel helps me walk to the nearest run down house.

Us in an abandoned trailer park. It growed up with weeds, and trees.

“They took me too. I thought they might have killed you. You had me worried.” He helps me into the house.

It wasn’t much warmer than it was outside but at least I wasn’t getting rained on. 

“You didn’t leave?” I ask looking up at him, surprised and relief filling my voice.

“Why would I leave? We make a good team, even if you are annoying.” He says setting me on the bed in one of the bedrooms.

“I’m a killer.” I say that explaining why anyone would leave.

“You and me both sweetheart.” He says turning away from me to dig through the dresser.

“They had me locked in here, trying to beat information out of me. I kept telling them they had the wrong guy.” He says sitting next to me with first aid supplies.

“I killed that kid.” I say looking at him feeling tears fill my eyes.

“You didn’t mean to.” He says gently pushing his flannel off me.

“How do you know?” I ask softly.

“You love kids. He surprised you I’m guessing.”

I nod the memory of it fresh in my mind.

“It’s okay, just try to forget about it.” He says looking me over for wounds.

Besides the busted lip and black eye I got while killing them I was wound free. Them preferring to use rape instead of there fist or wepons on me.

“You need to rest. I’ll leave you alone.” Joel says but it sounds far away.

I nod barely noticing him leaving and closing the door behind him.

I sit there staring at the wall. Replaying the events from today over and over in my head. I sat there even after it got dark.

I realized that it didn’t bother me as I sliced through those people. It was like second nature almost. I remember when I killed for the first time it bothered me for weeks and now I didn’t even think about it.

It was so easy to me I killed a child without thinking about it. Without pausing to see what I was doing.

I was a horrible person. I’ve become like the men inside that storage container. Something I swore never to do. I didn’t deserve to live.

As the thought whispered through my mind I knew it was true. I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t go on like this. The world didn’t need another mindless killer like I was becoming.

I looked around the room seeing a pistol on the dresser I stood up and grabbed it. It was cold and harsh in my hands. Like I never held one before. The weight almost seemed like too much as I lifted it to my head.

One bullet and the world would be a better place. It would be better off. Joel would be better off. I was annoying, I slowed him down. I was a monster.

Placing my finger on the trigger I could feel my hand shaking. My mind is having a war with itself. But the image of that child laying in the mud kept coming to the front. Telling me what I really was. What had to be done.

I didn’t flinch or make a sound when the door opened. Joel stood there with a lantern.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks his voice thick and angry.

As if the weight of the gun became too much it fell from my hands just as I fell to my knees. Hot fat tears rush down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” I mumble looking up at him.

He sighs, placing the light down he moves to sit next to me.

“You’re a fucking idiot. What do you think you were gonna accomplish doing that?” He surprised me by wrapping his arms around me.

“I became a horrible person. I-.”

“Shhs with all that. You ain’t no worse than me.”

I don’t say anything, not knowing what to say. How do you explain the feelings I was feeling?

“Don’t ever try to do something like that again.” He says lifting my head makes me look at him.

His face shadowed by the dim light in the room but despite that I thought I saw tears in his eyes.

“I need you so you can’t be killing yourself.” He says letting go of me and moving to stand up.

I quickly reach out grabbing his wrist making him stop.

“P-please, don’t go.” I whisper my voice cracking.

He nods offering his other hand.

“Come on you need to sleep.” He says softly.

I place my hand in his letting him pull me to my feet. He leads me to the bed and pulls the covers back.

I climbed into the bed, Joel joining me on the other side after he turned off the light. I shiver the room seeming so much colder now.

I wasn’t numb or full of adrenaline so I was suddenly feeling everything again. I move closer to Joel without thinking, jumping when a jolt goes through me the moment my hand bumps his. His touch shocked me. Him grabbing my hand tightly.

Joel was lying on his back, his other hand tucked under his head. I was laying on my side facing him. My mind was fried from the past few days but I couldn’t sleep. The memories of what I did, of what happened to me not letting me rest.

I couldn’t tell if Joel was asleep. His eyes closed but that was it.

“Are you awake?” I softly ask if I woke him up but I was scared of what I would do if I laid there alone with my thoughts.

“Yeah, what is it?” He says roughly.

I chew my lip not having anything particular I wanted to talk about. I just needed a distraction.

“Did you mean it? That you need me?”

“I said it didn’t I?” He says harshly.

“Yeah, I just didn’t know if you meant it.”

“I wouldn’t have said it. Now I need you to go to sleep.” He says turning over to face me, his hand leaving mine.

“I can’t.” I whisper softly.

“I know. But you need to.” He says softly.

He places his hand on my face gently stroking my cheek.

“Just close your eyes and think happy thoughts.”

I nod my head doing what he says praying it works. The soft caress of his hand helped me to drift off into much needed sleep.

Hunted by the Past

Cw: Physical exhaustion, Gasping for air, Slightly creepy/intimate whumper, Vengeful whumper, Mild dehydration, Acceptance of terrible fate, Sadistic whumper, Cursing

Previous: Awakening

This is the last part of the prologue for liminal red! It's still kinda rough, I might edit it later. But, right now I'd rather work on other parts. Just glad it's done!

Red Masterlist here

*****

Obsidian buildings rose in protest from the abstract salt. Distant black spires mocked the demise of the even flat plane.

It was a natural boundary but it marked the end of the outskirts. Tamer civilization existed beyond it, ruled by more responsible archdemons. The lords of this colorless wasteland protected no one. Niko had to move on and find sanctuary as soon as he could.

Niko stumbled into an alleyway, panting as he tried to shelter from the glare.

Exhausted, and thirsty. Without any time to come to terms with his new being.

Everything feels wrong

He just needed water, and he thought he could smell it? He definitely could.

Stumbling forward out of the alleyway into brightness, his legs gave out in the busy street.

Exposed on his hands and knees, breathing heavy to catch his breath. He payed no attention to the hungry eyes that swallowed him from all directions. He couldn't let fear get ahold of him again.

I can't run anymore. Is there safety in the crowd?

He didn't know. But he knew he couldn't look like a target. The limit of his ability was so close at hand, barely rising from the blackened bricks.

I just want water, I need it

Niko followed the scent in the breeze, across the street and into the glazed backroads. Paths that lingered downwards in a maze of walkways, volcanic glass constricting on either side. He could almost see himself in some of those smooth surfaces. But the promise of water drew him past, creeping further away from the lively main street.

Winding pathways getting narrower as the scent strengthened. Opening finally into a deserted area where a well stood. He could hear the soft sound of water deep below, a lullaby.

Niko nearly broke into a run at the sight, overjoyed. But, kept calm. Approaching with caution.

It's probably salt water anyway

There was already water shimmering in the bucket below, he pulled it towards him. Lowering his cracked lips to drink from the edge, fresh water drowning all his worries. Cool and untouched after the harsh freezing night.

Finally some good luck , he thought.

Niko sought out his distorted reflection in the choppy water the remained. The color of his eyes was hard to make out but he hoped they were still green. What he did notice, were the darkly colored horns on either side of his head emerging from behind his faded brown hair.

Was I always this creature inside?

A slight noise behind him made his blood run cold. New instincts hyper aware of the danger he might be in.

Niko whipped around, ready to act tough if he needed to. No matter how thinly veiled the display would be.

A stranger stood a few arm lengths away from him, standing near the narrow passageway Niko had previously arrived from.

Curling horns framed his face, contrasting under bright red hair. He stood at a strange angle, tilting his head to look at Niko with his good eye.

Niko recognized him, heart dropping instantly. It was Reyo, the salt flats were his domain. He was one of the most notorious that lived there. A true monster born from distilled suffering, crawling to the top despite his innate flaws.

I stand no chance if he remembers me

A smile spread across the archdemon's face at Niko's fear lingering in the air. He took a long deep breath, closing his eyes and raising his chin into the air.

His eyelids flew open, dilating sharply as he chuckled to himself. He straightened his posture, righting his head to an even level. A deathly glare replaced his lingering grin.

"I thought it might be you, angel" he said, taking a step towards Niko menacingly. "Remember me?"

Niko was afraid to respond, focusing on how to escape. He wanted to run back to the crowd, but the archdemon was blocking the way. Rust colored wings spread in a display to discourage him from trying to run towards safety.

It's ok.. I just have to stay calm! I have to surprise him if I have any chance of getting away

But Niko couldn't think, shaking as he stood.

Finally, Niko broke the silence, "yes, I remember you", he said. Trying his hardest to keep a calm tone as the being drew closer to him. The monster's orange iris unshifting as it sized him up with implied aggression.

He'd have one chance to run, it wasn't time yet

"Wasn't very nice, what you did to me. But, we both know it was only luck. You don't have any impressive skills, do you angel?" He smirked at those words, taking an uneven step forward. Getting nearly close enough to grab Niko. His voice dropping into disinterest as he added, "Won't you at least try running?"

Niko ripped his eyes away, trying to quickly run around the archdemon through his blind spot. But the demon threw his arm out, hitting Niko in the throat.

Damn it, damn him

Reyo made an amused sound as Niko nearly fell to the ground, gasping sharply as he staggered backwards. He tripped on an uneven patch, falling hard.

Reyo seemed to take joy in that, "Can't have you going that way, choose again!" he sung cheerfully. His wings lowered calmly, standing in place as Niko crawled away from him, gasping for air.

Niko stumbled to his feet, legs barely obeyed him as he fled. Trying to escape the echoing laughter that faded into the distance.

Crap, this is what he wants, it's a game. I have to hide, it's my only hope

Niko couldn't make it much further than the end of the street he was running down. Choosing a random alley, he ducked into it, panting against the wall.

Where am I going to hide? I cant- I'm so tired..

Niko slumped down against the wall, sitting with his back to it, he had to rest. The ache of standing was torture.

Maybe he won't find me here by some miracle

"Awe, feeling sorry for yourself now, are you?" A mocking voice rang out in near melody.

Damn. There goes that

He couldn't see Reyo anywhere. Anger rose in him, overflowing into recklessness.

"Fuck you!" Niko screamed into the empty alleyway. Immediately trying to get up and run a second time through the resulting laughter.

But, he was caught from behind. A hand over his mouth, another trapping him. The side of Reyo's hip was pressed into the base of his tail at a painful angle, immobilizing it. He tried to struggle, but the predator was around him, constricting like a snake. A larger being that rested its head on top of his.

"Ah, there's the spirit that killed me!" Reyo exclaimed loudly, as though proud of himself. Crushing Niko just hard enough to stop his breath beneath the pressure. Niko dug his clawed nails into one of Reyo's arms in vain, tears breaking out of his widened eyes.

It hurts, I can't breathe. It's all over, whatever he does with me, I'll never escape. He's too strong.

His voice evened out into a flat tone, as he covered Niko's eyes under his fingers, "No reason to cry, there is nothing to mourn. You won't be getting away from me little angel."

*****

End of prologue.

Next: Welcome to Hell

WIP Wednesday my dudes. have it. I dunno if i’m ever gonna finish it.

__

Jason grunted when he felt the weight shift and grow heavier on his back, the rod playing peek-a-boo through his body and protruding from his liver shifting painfully. Damian winced beneath him and Jason cursed.

"I've got a few granola bars in my pocket," Jason said through gritted teeth. "Reach over and grab them."

Damian offered no response as he obeyed, tight-lipped and determined.

They wouldn’t be in this situation if Bruce had just answered his fucking phone. Jason couldn’t help but remember that fact. He and Damian wouldn’t be trapped under the mountain of rubble that was once one of Wayne Enterprise’s visitor centers.

Jason had gotten wind of a plot to blow the building a mere few minutes before it was executed and, in that time, he’d tried calling Bruce to no avail. He hadn’t seen the point in leaving any voicemails, though, so he simply didn’t. Jason knew that today Damian and Bruce were supposed to be paying the visitor center a visit—it hadn’t exactly been a secret—which was why he’d tried reaching out to the man.

In retrospect, he should have known Bruce wasn’t going to answer him. It had been a stupid waste of time to even try with the thickheaded ass.

So, because Bruce hadn’t answered his call, here Jason was: probably going to bleed to death, his arms shaking worse than an earthquake from the strain of trying to hold all the slabs of concrete up and give Damian some room, blood dripping down his face and falling from his eyelashes—annoying as hell—and honestly? Going out like this? There were so better ways to die.

Jason held back a cough, tasting the blood as it filled his mouth, and feeling as the liquid slipped past his lips to drip from the corner of his mouth.

Damn it.

His muscles were screaming at him for what he was doing to them. The muscles on his back were practically sobbing, they’d been tense for so long, and his forearms and calves? They screeched and protested this the loudest. They made their discomfort loudly known. At this point? Jason was surprised he was still holding everything up.

Again the weight on the debris shifted and Jason swallowed his agony, sealing it up tight inside. Damian relaxed back against the ground, the granola and protein bars clutched protectively against his chest.

“In my jacket. Inner left pocket.” As Damian reached into the pocket Jason narrowed his eyes and added, “Don’t drink it all.”

There was no response offered as the kid pulled out the small flask filled with water. Jason always carried one around on patrol—what else was he supposed to do, die of dehydration? No thanks.

Damian simply looked at the flask, set it aside, and reached into his own belt to pull out a small canister. Jason couldn’t say he’d been surprised when the kid revealed his utility belt hidden in his civvies. Damn Demon probably took the thing to school.

The canister Jason found curious; he’d never seen it before.

“Don’t scream.”

It’d been one helluva warning, and the only thing Damian had said the entire time, so of course Jason had opened his mouth to ask Damian why as the kid sprayed whatever the hell that was on Jason’s bleeding wound and it started burning worse than anything Jason had ever felt.

And so, of course, he screamed and an arm buckled, dropping him onto a forearm and leaving only one tremoring arm straight as his body leaned forward into the fall. This caused the debris on Jason’s back to shift worse than it had before, and the rod moved right along with it, digging itself in deeper as Jason again cried out in agony.

Damian grunted—the rock trapping his ankle must’ve been affected by the rest on Jason’s back—and glared up at Jason, whose face was now inches away from Damian’s.

Way too close for comfort, in both of their books.

Jason held his breath and tried to focus on ignoring the blinding pain as he squeezed his eyes shut. The cough he’d been holding back the entire time finally realized itself, and Jason twisted his head so that the blood in his mouth wouldn’t get on Damian and instead stained the ground beside him.

“Sorry,” Jason muttered afterward, sighing.

Damian offered no response to the apology, instead saying, “Your wound should have stopped bleeding.”

Jason opened his eyes and glanced over at the kid. “Well, did it?”

“I cannot see.” So he did the next best thing, and reached out to touch it.

Jason bit back his cry of pain, instead hissing out, “A little warning next time?”

“I… apologize.” Then, before Jason could recover from the shock of Damian Wayne apologizing, he continued, “Drake’s component worked. Your wound has stopped bleeding.”

“Great. I won’t die of blood loss then. Yay, Tim.” Sarcasm practically dripped from the words as Jason spoke them—though the knowledge that he wouldn’t be dying anytime soon did bring a little comfort, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

The kid snorted and an awkward silence fell upon the two, blood continuing to drip from Jason’s head. The wound in his torso had stopped bleeding, but the area around the rusted rod both burned and felt cold. Jason wondered just what was in the ‘component’ Tim had made; he wondered when Tim made it.

When Damian started to twist, Jason’s attention snapped back to the situation at hand.

“You good, kid?”

Damian scowled in response. “Your breath is rancid, Todd—but to answer your question, yes. I am fine. I was simply testing my leg. It is free now.”

Little shit.

Jason didn’t respond. What could he say?

“Can you reach your phone?”

Damian shook his head. “I left it at the Manor.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Jason wanted to strangle this kid right about now. He had his phone on him, but Bruce wouldn’t fucking answer him. What made now any different from the last time he’d tried calling?

Regardless he found himself saying, “Left pant pocket. The second one. Grab mine, and call your dad.” Maybe Bruce could sense the difference in callers; maybe he’d get the feeling that it wasn’t Jason calling per se, and would answer because of it.

Maybe he just didn’t want to talk to Jason.

Without a word, Damian again did as he was instructed. It was weirding him out—Damian’s silence.

The sound of the phone ringing wasn’t a very loud one, because Jason kept his volume low, but in the cramped space they had, it may as well have had the volume of an air horn.

His thought about the tight space made Jason realize something he hadn’t before.

This was almost just like his coffin.

From there, Jason’s mental stability only started plummeting. He noticed, for what seemed to be the first time, how close the ‘walls’ were, how the back of his head was already hitting the ‘roof’. He noticed just how much his muscles ached, how he was trapped under debris, his body shielding someone else’s.

When he started hyperventilating Jason didn’t know. All he knew was that, sometime during his panicking, Damian’s call must’ve gone through, because the sound of Damian’s voice hit him like a sobering slap in the face. He chose that to focus on—Damian’s voice. The words he was saying.

“—ith Todd. He threw himself over me in an effort to protect me, undoubtedly, despite the fact that he could have escaped safely. I find it an unwise decision; we were near the exit when the building came down. Hurry, father, for Todd may bleed to death if you do not, and he is the only thing keeping the debris from crushing us both.” Damian hung up, then.

His words reverberated in Jason’s mind. ‘He is the only thing keeping the debris from crushing us both.’ That sentence made the pain in his muscles spike, and Jason groaned. His muscles were beyond the minute trembling, now periodically tremoring and violently.

In a weak effort to distract himself from the pain Jason asked, “What’d your dad say?”

“He did not answer.”

What? Jason must have asked the question out loud because Damian sniffed and repeated what he’d said before.

“My father did not answer. I left a voicemail.”

“A voicemail?” This was a joke. This was a sick, cruel, twisted joke fate was playing.

He was going to die beneath this rubble, the same way he had the first time. Again, the thought sent Jason’s mind into a panicked frenzy and he started hyperventilating.

“Todd? Todd. Todd, listen to me!”

Damian’s voice sounded like it was underwater: muted, for all intents and purposes. Jason could hear it, but he couldn’t understand it though his panic.

“Jason!”

Damian’s use of his first name shocked him enough to yank him out of his head, thrusting him back into the crammed space as his mind was flooded with flashbacks.

“W-what?” he rasped out. It felt like there was cotton in his mouth, choking him.

I can’t breathe. And again Jason was dragged back into the hysteria in his mind. The ground beneath Damian turned into dirt, and the oxygen became thick and warm. The few rays of sunlight that filtered in through cracks in the debris vanished and plunged Jason into darkness. His torso lit aflame with agony and where’s Bruce? Where’s Bruce, where’s Bruce, where’s Bruce?

Jason shouted when he felt something prodding at his wound, mind sobering at the pain, and everything snapped back into reality. The ground beneath Damian was concrete, there was light illuminating the area, and his pain hadn’t been as bad before whatever had disturbed the sore area had poked at it. His gaze focused on Damian whose eyes were narrowed at him.

Wait a goddamned minute.

“Are you done, Todd?”

He wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or grateful, so his answer was a rasped, “Fuck off.”

Damian snorted.

Instead of trying to get a read on his mental state, Jason forced any thoughts about the resemblance this situation held to the other thing out of his mind. He needed to think; to focus on solving their current predicament, not have a heart-to-heart with himself.

Jason’s mind felt slow, as he tried to think of solutions. Like each thought he had was dragging its feet to form. He made a noise of frustration after two minutes straight of the infuriating sensation.

“Something the matter?”

“You wouldn’t have any ideas about getting out of here, would you Damian?”

The weight shifted again, but this time it was too much for Jason’s muscles to support. His arm buckled, the rod went deeper, and he screamed from the pain that ripped throughout his body, now on both forearms and centimeters between his body and Damian’s. Jason’s head was beside Damian’s, his forehead on the cool ground.

Damian didn’t answer him.

Beats passed in silence before Jason spoke in a voice rasped with emotion and pain.

“I’m sorry, Damian. You shouldn’t have to die like this. With me, of all people. It…” He trailed off, train of thought slipping, before quickly finishing. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t come up with any solutions. The only way this would end was in Jason’s body finally caving in to the blood loss and pain, making the debris crush them both. They would die here. Already Jason’s mind was hazy and black splotches were staining his vision, eating away at the real-life visuals as they began to spread.

Jason heard Damian suck in a long breath, which he found curious, seconds before the kid yelled, “Superman!” then, lower, whispered, “Help us. You’re the only one who can.”

Why the fuck didn’t I think of that? “Nice, Damian,” Jason managed to murmur.

Mere seconds after Damian’s cry for help, Jason felt the weight on his back grow. Again the rod dug deeper, but this time his body buckled completely beneath the weight. There was no scream of pain, this time, as he felt the wound worsen and pressure on his back increase, because Jason’s mind decided to let the ink spreading across his vision seep into his head and he blacked out for a few seconds. When Jason regained some remote form of consciousness, he felt his body being lifted in someone’s arms, his limbs dangling limply in the air.

He moaned when he felt the rod still impaling his torso, pain flaring violently. Jason tried to force himself to stay awake, ‘tried to’ being the operative words. Moments after his eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of Jon helping Damian out of a hole in the debris, Jason’s mind said good-night again and he passed out cold.

The next time Jason woke up, he was lying on his side in a much cooler area, more alert than the last time he’d been conscious but not quite all there yet. A few seconds after his mind booted up, he opened his eyes, only to immediately shut them again because of harsh lights burning at his pupils. Moments after he’d closed his eyes, his hearing started to crackle to life, voices drifting to him.

“—not leave the foreign object in for much longer, else I fear an infection will spread to infect more than just his liver. We must act quickly, Master Bruce.” Alfred?

The muddled texture of their voices made it difficult for Jason to tell who was talking, but if he tried a little harder…

“Jason’s going to need to get a liver transplant, either way, and we need to get more red blood cells in his body.” That sounded like Tim. Why was he here? Where was here?

“Tim, I need you to find a suitable donor for Jason, now.” Ah. That gruff voice was unmistakably Bruce.

Wait.

“On it, B. Here’s some Epogen for Jason—catch.”

“Good work.”

“Sir, I believe Master Jason is awake.”

Well. Thanks for blowing my cover, Al. With no way to avoid confronting the others, Jason’s brow wrinkled as he opened his eyes, squinting to try and protect them from the lights. He shifted, accidentally stretching the skin around the metal stick still shish-kabobbing his liver, and only allowed a groan to escape him at the pain that flared up. Only when he opened his eyes did he really realize where he was, and when he did, he groaned again, shutting his eyes.

Jason was in the Batcave.

Fuck.

Tim’s face popped into view when Jason opened his eyes again, long locks of hair hanging over his bright baby blue eyes like a curtain. He grinned, said, “Hey there Jason.”

Unable to voice a response, Jason grunted and closed his eyes again. The light was really doing a number on them, alright? He liked not being blind, thanks.

His replacement plowed on.

“So we’re gonna send you back under for this bit—it’s gonna hurt, like, a lot even when it’s over—but to catch you up to speed”—something stabbed Jason in the thigh and he cursed mentally—“Bruce just gave you a shot of Epo ‘cause you’re low on red blood cells, we’ve got you hooked up to some fluids, there’s a cannula in your nose to help you breathe—” Huh. Jason hadn’t noticed that. “—because of all the dust and stuff that polluted your lungs when the building went down, and oh, hey, awesome! You’re about to get a liver transplant—speaking of, yo, B! Found a donor!” 

Tim’s voice went a little distant, like he’d turned away or something, but it was back in a few seconds. “Yeah. Until then, we really should get that rebar steel out of you, huh? Don’t want anything else getting infected, because then that’d be more work, and I already have so much more aside from this. Tam’s gonna kill me if I don’t fax a copy of the paperwork over to her dad by the deadline, which is—shit, that’s two hours from now and I haven’t even gotten started on that.”

Replacement—Tim, it’s Tim—kept talking, but it was too much for Jason’s drugged brain to keep up with—which, speaking of, the drugs they had him on must’ve been strong enough to knock out a rhino, because ever since the Pit next to nothing worked on him—so he passed out at some point during the surprisingly distracting rambling.

IRIDESCENT | episode 1

Word Count : 1.653

Warnings: A lot of angst! Some swearing

-

Spinning. It was the only word that came up to your mind. You looked around to see something, anything at all, but it was a waste of time. Smoke around you twisted in its artistic ways, forming curls in the gloom, illuminated by the old, red dim bar lights. With giggles, swear words slowly making their way to your ears, each drink offered seemed like a better and better idea. At this point you were already too dizzy, your legs were too shaky to hold you but your heart was still aching. You really hoped with every drink you get it would get better, at least you would forget, but appearently it was impossible.

“It’s enough.. This shit is useless…” you said to yourself, thinking about the time and hoping that he’d worry about you. You were trying to get up and go home when you found yourself on the floor, giggling like a lunatic, looking at your bruised, bleeding legs. Seeing blood always made you nauseus but that night, you had much more important stuff to suffer.

“Suffering, suffer. S U F F E R I N G. What a weird word,” you mumbled, giggling. The things you felt when you got the engagement party invitation was more than just suffering. It was a combination of shattered bones, burning flesh, cracked skulls.. It was pure pain. Agony. Misery. You slowly leaned on the wall, pulling your legs to yourself, closing your eyes, hoping it would make your dizziness go away. You realized you were crying when you felt a tear dropped on your bleeding knee.

That’s when you saw your phone was buzzing, you took the phone from the floor and looked at the screen to see who was calling. Joonie. You smiled despite the fact you’re hurting, despite the fact he’s the reason of it all, you couldn’t help yourself. He was the the misery, he was the pain. He was the poison, he was the antidote. He was the darkness, and he was the light.

You shut your eyes closed, your cheeks wet from the tears that ran down, your nose all red, your lips craving the touch of the man you loved. Love? You didn’t know.

You were about to drift off when you felt a touch in between your thighs. You opened your eyes immediately to face a slender man, with a narrow face, a smirk on his mouth, his brown eyes are crossed from all the cheap alcohol he’s been drinking. “Come on babe, let’s go to my place,” he said, with a guttural, low voice.

You immediately hit his hands and tried to get away from him. It could’ve worked if the world wasn’t spinning around you as fast as it could. You tried to hold onto the crooked, metal bar stool while he grabbed your waist from behind and pulled you closer to him. A chin rested on your shoulder, you felt a breath onto your shoulder, filled with alcohol. He slid his bony fingers inside your jeans, you wanted to scream but he had his other hand on your mouth. You felt like there’s no escape but you kept struggling, trying to keep your mind away from the thought of this stranger’s hand in your panties.

When you were almost out of the hope of escaping, you noticed the weight behind you were gone and you could breathe again. You held onto the bar frantically, knocking over couple of shot glasses and a bottle of vodka. You turned around slowly, trying to understand how you escaped, trying to figure out what was going on, and that’s when you saw him.

A tall, wide shouldered, messy black haired stranger, standing in front of you, asking if you were okay. Since you were too shaken to speak, you only nodded your head. Yes. When he got your approval, he turned to the bastard who assaulted you, which he was on the dirty, mahogany hardwood floor holding his bleeding nose, and he kicked him in the gut.

“Fuck. Off,” he said, with a husky, and dauntingly calm voice. “If I ever see you next to her, I’ll shove your head up to your ass.” And that was the last thing you needed to hear before you throw up.

Your stomach was full with alcohol and you’ve seen so much blood for the night so it just happened. You bended over next to the bar, and started throwing up, hoping with all the bad things that coming out of your body, your pain and misery would go away too. You’ve heard footsteps coming to your direction, then someone holding your hair, speaking softly.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s fine, you’re going to be alright.” It was him. Your saviour. The guy with black hair and broad shoulders. He slowly moved one of his hands back to your neck and your shoulders, massaging it slowly. Weirdly his voice calmed you down, you noticed your shoulders relaxing under his kind touch. When you were done puking, he helped you get up, holding you from your waist tightly. “Are you done?”

You were too weak to speak, to weak to shake your head, so you just closed your eyes firmly, letting him know you were done.

“Alright, good. I’m gonna take you to the bathroom, okay? You have to wash your face.” You weren’t sure you trusted him enough to go somewhere private, but you were too weak to stand, too cold to be alone, and his chest was really warm, you slowly rested your head on his shoulder, and let out a sigh, thank God he took it as a yes because you didn’t have any power to do something physically, and he started walking with you in a gloomy blue lighted corridor with some ripped rock band posters on the black wall.

“Why the fuck did you drink this much?” You’ve heard him mumble, while opening the dark brown old door with a loud creaking sound that make you squint your eyes and let out a loud groan. He smirked at the sound that came out of your mouth, making you sit on the top of the toilet. “You sure you can stay still?”

You really wanted to say yes but deep down you knew you couldn’t stand at all, so you just looked at him, hoping he’d get the hint.

“Fuck. Of course you can’t. Okay, how are we going to do this?” You held your breath, and tried really hard not to giggle. While he was trying to find a way to both wash your face, and make sure you won’t fall, you got a good chance to examine his face.

Was he handsome? Hell yes. He had a square face, a jawline that could literally stab someone, big dark brown eyes, and thin but beautiful lips. When he pouted you saw a dimple. No. Fucking no. Not another dimple. Fuck fuck fuck, you thought and reality hit you hard. He had a dimple. You were immediately back from your little getaway.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts of Namjoon’s engagement. You felt your eyes getting filled with tears again, hoping he wouldn’t see them. “I found it, okay, I need you to sit on my lap that’s the only way.”

On his lap?! Hell no! Just when you were about to object, he sat in front of the sink and made you sit on his lap. You closed your eyes, hoping it was the man you loved, imagining him instead of this stranger. You weren’t going to lie, it felt pretty great. When you leaned on his chest, you’ve heard his breathing got a little irregular and he got tense, which made you smile a bit, just the effect you were expecting. You nuzzled your face on his neck and when his perfume hit your nose you woke up from your dream.

It wasn’t Namjoon. It was never going to be him. He had his precious Rose. The pain was back. You took a deep breath, trying to let go of the pain while you exhale.

“Fuck, stay still! I’m going to wash your face now,” he said, pulling you and making you sit up, a hand holding your hair up, the other hand splashing cold water to your face.

“I must admit.. This does feel good..” you said with closed eyes. He held a glass filled with water to your mouth.

“Drink. You are dehydrated.” You didn’t need him to say twice, you drank all of it, craving more. “Do you want more?” You shook your head, and he filled the glass again and helped you drink. “Alright, where is your phone? I am going to call someone to pick you up.”

You thought about it for a couple seconds. “I think I left it in front of the bar…” He sighed loudly. You knew what he was thinking, it was probably gone. Stolen.

“Okay so, do you know anyone’s number? You can’t go home like this.” You only knew one person’s number. It wasn’t your brothers, wasn’t your dad’s and wasn’t your best friends. It was embarrassing.

You took a deep breath and got up from his lap. “Can I borrow your phone, please?” He got up and took his phone from his black, skinny jeans pocket, handing it to you.

“I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the front door if you need me,” he was already started walking to the door when you held his hand. He turned to you with a question in his eyes.

“Don’t go. Please.” He looked at your fingers, and back to your face, you slowly let go of his hand and he leaned on the wall, watching every move you make. You opened the phone, your fingers automaticly pressing the screen without even thinking.

Ringing. Ringing. Ring-

“Yes?” You gulped. “Joonie, hey… it’s me…”

Spooky

The mission has been straight forward enough - get in, eliminate the target, get out. It was idiot proof. Or so you thought. You’d begun to learn that where Clint Barton was concerned, nothing was ever idiot proof.

Wait. That sounded cruel. But it was true. If a mission could be fucked up, Clint was at your side for it to happen. Maybe that said more about you than him? Maybe you were just a doomed partnership. He didn’t seem to have the same problems with Natasha.

Now, Eastern Europe was filled with anxiety-inducing former-Soviet-bloc horrors that honestly gave you nightmares, but being assigned to track down and eliminate a human trafficker who liked to go by Vlad Dracul made the whole thing creepier. October in Romania, Clint’s shitty-ass vampire jokes, and your own self-sabotage by being far too big a fan of the genre was not helping. 

And the rest of the team had thought it was hilarious that you were tracking a vampire. Because they don’t exist, right? You laughed and played the dupe, but you weren’t so sure. All the intel on the guy made him sound disturbingly like the actual Dracula of legend. Which scared you even more. Which made Clint ride you even more. Which, when the chips were down, made the whole goddamn scene an even bigger shitshow.

Turns out vampires do exist, by the way. And you were now sporting a nice hickey from the truly-from-legend-goddamn Dracula. Clint was knocked out at your feet, apparently not Drac’s type and you were just. so. fucking. done. Weak from lack of blood, mad at your partner, and tied to some kind of freaky-ass altar, you just couldn’t even. You were praying for a cavalry. Your extraction wasn’t due for 72 hours, and you were over 100 miles from the extraction point, as near as you could figure, so you really didn’t have a lot of hope for the cavalry, but you were opportunistically praying to every god you’d ever heard of, whether you knew they existed or not, hoping someone would show up.

The walls of the crypt you were in were damp and caught the dim light from the stereotypically bleak candles in a way that emphasized exactly how spooky the whole scene was. It felt like the set of an old black and white B-movie where they’d blown the budget on the dressing the scene. Too bad you were the world’s shittiest actress. And your so-called leading man was on the ground, down for the count.

There was a hollow dripping than echoed throughout the chamber, making you wonder if there was a well nearby. And the wind howled outside, and there was an occasional flash of light followed by a loud, booming crack of thunder. If you weren’t feeling so weak, you might have been more frightened. As it was, you were dehydrated enough that no one was going to be able to scare the pee out of you if they sprung out of one of the dark corners. 

You resumed your quiet muttered prayers, wishing the bastard vampire had at least shackled your hands together. But spread apart, you couldn’t even hope to break free. 

“Why the fuck do they always send out unpowered teammates together? Could I get sent with Steve? Or Bucky? Or Wanda? Nooooo. Me and Clint. Every goddamn time.” You stopped praying long enough to soliloquay before starting back up. A low moan from near your feet informed you that Clint was finally rousing.

“Try praying to Thor, dumbass. He’s at least on our side,” Clint grumbled. “And we know he fucking exists.”

“Look dipshit -” you started, and then realized he was right. Thor might not hear you, but maybe Heimdal would. You hoped Asgardian hearing was supersonic because you didn’t want to risk yelling through the castle walls and alerting your captor. A clanging of metal on metal sounded from the stairs and your breath caught. Had it seriously worked? Your eyes strained in the low light, only to be disappointed by the appearance of Dracula. It must be feeding time. 

“My flower, your cheeks grow wan,” he commented, brushing his hand along your face. “Soon, you will be drained, and you can join me in the afterlife.”

“I’d rather not. I have this thing about enjoying the sun. I get really bad seasonal affective disorder, so living in darkness might not work for me long-term. And I was thinking of becoming a vegetarian. Pretty sure people are off the menu if I go that lifestyle,” you rambled, nervous and frightened. He leaned down and inhaled deeply near your throat.

“The fear makes your blood so much sweeter,” he commented.

“Really? Because I would think I’m burning through my stores pretty damn fast at this point. Like, my blood sugar has to be down in my boots, and my hemoglobin, after your last drink? I’m like when your gramma thinks you’re looking chunky so she waters down the fruit punch at Auntie Donna’s birthday party. I bet Clint is way more delicious at this point,” you were starting to panic and your words were coming as fast as you could form them.

“Hey!” Clint protested from the ground. Dracula just smiled and shook his head.

“Your humour makes your sacrifice all the more determined. How could I resist such wry commentary? For eternity? No, darling, you are my chosen consort,” he laughed softly, his breath cool against your skin. You felt his lips against your neck and stiffened, bracing for the snap of teeth into your skin.

“Oh please, oh please, oh please, oh please.” The words were a rapid litany under your breath, your eyes clenched shut. “Thor, please, Thor, please, Thor -”

“He is not coming, my dark princess. No one is. Submit. Submit and this fool will be your first meal,” Dracula interrupted, kicking Clint in the ribs.

“I don’t want to eat him!” You protested weakly. “He’s my friend.”

“And not your lover?” Dracula asked, crooning an eyebrow. “A shame. It’s always sweeter when there is love between you.”

“Aww, dude. No,” Clint moaned from the floor. If you could have shrugged, you would have. He was only saying what you both felt. Lightning flashed in the room again and the thunder was just seconds behind it. In any other circumstance, you would have assumed it was Thor, but the storm had been raging for hours, and hadn’t shown any sign of letting up.

“You will still provide nourishment to your partner, despite the lack of amorous feeling,” Dracula explained, looking down at Clint. The thought of digging your teeth into your friend’s neck was enough to turn your stomach. Or at least, it would have been, if there was anything in there to turn. You’d been running on chocolate covered almonds and caffeine for half a day when you’d been caught. You doubted you had enough substance in you to even create bile to toss up. 

Dracula turned back to you, and resumed the weird scenting ritual he seemed to be performing along your neck.

“Quick question?” You asked. He paused, as though waiting. “Why me? What makes me so special that you want me to rule by your side?” You asked, mocking his accent in the process. And suddenly were hit by a fit of the giggles,  at the sheer ludicrousness of the whole situation.

“For a human, you are remarkably gifted,” he admitted. “And there is the concern of you wanting to eliminate me. What better way to remove my enemy than to turn her to me?”

“Okay, Clint is just way more talented than I am. Much better if you’re looking at skills. More agile, braver, definitely a better shot. Nicer physique too, I have this whole weak upper body thing going on, but check out the dude’s guns. He’s packing some serious heat, I mean, he could rival Steve almost, I think. And if you’re wanting a companion that can lure in more victims, he’s pretty cute as long as he keeps his mouth shut. You could bounce a fucking quarter off his ass and -”

“Enough!” Dracula snapped, effectively silencing you. 

“Thanks, Y/N,” Clint grumbled. “Way to chuck me under the horse drawn vampire carriage.”

“I can’t help that it’s true. And this is where the whole you’re braver thing comes in. I know you’d just suck it up, pardon the pun, and being the hero and die, but I’m not brave like you. I got to where I am by being sneaky and sly and -”

“I said enough!” Dracula’s voice boomed through the room and you startled silent. Everything startled silent, it seemed, the storm finally quieting down, the wind no longer howling down the stairs. He leaned down to you again and this time drew his tongue across the bite marks he’d previously left. “When you waken, my love, you will hunger. You will thirst as you never have before. And you, and your friend will be locked down here until he is drained. And then you will join me in death’s embrace.”

His teeth grazed your neck and you could feel your heart rate accelerating, and cursed it, knowing the damn muscle would just pump you down his throat that much faster. You drew in a deep breath, and forced yourself to go to the happy place the team shrink had forced you to build after your first bad mission. 

“I’m in my happy place, I’m in my happy place,” you mumbled. “I’m on a beach, and it’s sunny, and Thor and Steve are playing beach volleyball with Tony and Sam and Bucky and no one has shirts on, and there’s sweaty glistening muscles and I have a frosty, slushy drink with loads of booze in it to lower my inhibitions and OH FUCK THAT REALLY FUCKING HURTS Thor’s shorts have little hammers on them like some kind of joke, and even Loki is there and his shirt is off too and it’s like a fucking hot dude calendar filled with guys I’d totally screw and OW OW OW OW OW, happy place, happy place, happy place.” Your mind grew grey and fuzzy and you couldn’t stop yourself as you lapsed from consciousness as a huge crack of lightning lit the room.

You drowsed back into consciousness and felt a warm hand on your cheek. “Tell me more about my shorts, ástin mín.” The voice was warm, and rich and you tried to open your eyes, but the room was too bright and you flinched, closing them again. Your stomach rolled at the onslaught and you groaned and turned your head into the hand cupping your face.

“What shorts?” You asked. Your mouth was dry and your voice cracked with disuse. It was so fucking bright. You must be dead. You must be dead, and this must be heaven. Or maybe hell, because that sounded a lot like Thor and if he’d heard about his shorts and your happy place, this was your worst nightmare.

“My shorts with the hammers. And my brother, did his shorts have that cow horned helm of his?” It was Thor. And he was teasing you. You were in hell.

“Am I dead? If not, can you kill me? I would like to be dead,” you moaned.

“Is there a theme to our beach attire? Does Steve have shields, and Tony -”

“I really hadn’t got that far into the fantasy,” you turned your head away from his voice, suddenly warm with embarrassment.

“But you knew of my shorts? Does this rank me higher on the list of guys you would screw?” His teasing was gentle and there was a soft huff of laughter from him at the end of the question. You turned your head back to him and forced your eyes open enough to glare at him. 

“I nearly died, Thor,” you pointed out.

“You did,” he nodded, sombrely.

“And you’re teasing me about my stupid crush on you,” you complained. He lifted the hand you hadn’t realized he was holding and kissed your palm.

“I nearly lost you, ástin mín. Forgive me for trying to forget it by teasing you.” You curled your fingers against his face and felt the rough scratch of his beard, and forced your eyes open again. There were tears at the edges of his eyes and he looked tired, and drawn.

“How did I not die?” You asked. He laughed.

“I am a god, it would seem,” he smiled.

“What?”

“I heard your prayers. We had been looking for you and Clint since you’d fallen off the grid. We’d been following your trail, but you’d disappeared. We knew we had to be somewhat close, and then I found your tracking beacon where you’d dropped it near the castle. And then I heard your voice in my head. And I could see you, as clearly as though you were in front of me,” he explained. “I wasn’t quite in time to stop him from draining you, but he didn’t feed you, and we were able to transfuse you in the quinjet. Dr. Cho thinks there may be some side effects.”

“Why?” You asked. There were so many words, and most of them boiled down to you nearly dying.

“Steve was the only blood type match on the team,” Thor explained. “I, of course, am a universal donor to all humanoid creatures. Between Steve and I, we donated nearly four full units.”

“Side effects like?”

“It’s possible you may experience some serum-induced changes,” he hedged.

“And from you?”

“You were already kona í hjarta mínu. I’m afraid if those feelings were unrequited, they no longer will be,” he explained. 

“Kona -” you trailed off, as the words suddenly translated in your mind. Your eyes widened, blinding you for a moment, and you blinked and looked back at Thor.

“Eilífur elskaðir,” you murmured. “I think I can handle that.”

DOTW 12 Full

Waking too a steady and rhythmic beeping, Eren groggily groaned at the world. He felt like absolute fucking shit. A cool hand came down to rest on his forehead "Eren? Sweet heart?" "W-water..." "Here honey. Let me help you" A straw was pressed to his lips, Eren taking a deep sip. His mouth felt all furry and gross. Letting straw fall from between his lips, he blinked at Hanji, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes "What happened?" "You had a bad heat and collapsed, do you remember?" He remembered fucking up and throwing himself at Levi... with everything that happened with Marco and Jean, he'd hit meltdown and climbed into Levi's lap. Ruining everything they'd built up between them. Hurting the alpha and losing his virginity in the process. Levi had been so kind and soft. So sweet and it'd felt amazing at the time. Until he woke up and realised what he'd done to the man. He liked Levi. But he'd stupidly ruined it all. Fresh tears rolled down his face "I remember my birthday and coming home" "Oh sweetie. Shhh... its not all that bad" "I... hurt Levi" Starting to sob in earnest, Hanji climbed up into bed with him. Rolling him up to her, she crooned softly "He was so nice to me... w-what h-have I d-done?" "Hey... out of everyone in the world you could have slept with, you chose an alpha that really cares about you" "I've n-never done an-anything like before... and n-now I've r-ruined everything" "You haven't ruined everything. I promise you that. Levi was beside himself worried about you. I promise you, he really cares about you. Eren, have you never had sex before?" "N-no" He was far too miserable to be embarrassed "Z-Zeke s-said it was dirty and wrong" "It's not dirty and wrong. What about your heats? You've touched yourself before? You know you can't help but feel the need too" "I... I don't... it's wrong" Hanji let out a small sigh "Ok. Ok, I understand. You didn't do anything wrong. You're ok. Just a little bit of dehydration and exhaustion. We gave you a sedative so you'd sleep through it all. But I imagine you feel a bit gross?" Now that she mentioned is, he did. Hanji was probably laying in a pool of slick "Yeah..." "Alright. How about we get you unhooked? Then you can take a shower in the staff showers. It's much nicer in there, and I've got my stuff in my locker" "Am... am I allowed?" "Of course you are. No one's going to say no to me. Also, Mike's on, and even if you don't remember him, he knows all about the precious omega I'm lucky enough to have living with me" "I'm not precious. I'm a... I'm bad" "No, honey" "I am. I hurt Levi. I didn't save my mum from my dad! Zeke left me... I'm bad" "Sweetheart, this is just your after heat blues talking. You're not bad. You're beautiful and kind. A hot shower and some chocolate will make everything seem much better" With legs as shaky as a new born foal, Hanji helped him into the staff locker room. Supplying him with a soap and change of clothes, he figured he must have been in hospital for a little while. Either that, or Hanji was scarily prepared "I'm just going to let Moblit know you're awake. He's been worried about you. The showers are just in there. Take as long as you need" "Thank you..." "It's ok. No ones going to interrupt you, and everything will be ok" * Coming out of his rut, Levi couldn't stop thinking of what had happened with Eren. Moblit had looked ready to deck him, carrying the omega up to his room while Hanji supported him up to the bathroom. Showering only made him feel worse. He wanted to revel in Eren's scent, his omegas scent... but after what he'd done... Hanji had called Erwin, sitting him down, bundling him in a blanket and forcing him to drink a god awful cup of tea. Erwin not asking questions as he was driven back home, where his rut kicked in. Filled with self loathing, he didn't want to face the world. His sheets and bed were a filthy disgusting mess. He didn't want to fucking move, but the crust across his skin was driving him crazy. It felt revolting to be laying there in a mess of his own making. Hauling himself from his bed, he staggered into his bathroom. The effects of his rut meant his shower took normal than longer. The bliss from release washed away just as fast as the mess he'd made down the shower floor. He hated being an alpha for this very reason, and having been through yet another rut, it was definitely time to see about being put onto stronger suppressants. A bitter laugh fell from his cracked lips. Eren was supposed to be on suppressants. They hadn't fucking done anything for the kid, but at least he'd been given a contraceptive shot, so nothing would grow from his monumental fuck up. Closing his eyes, he could almost feel the omega moving against him. The warmth and softness of his form as he rode him... the way he called his name and begged for more. The brat probably didn't remember a fucking thing. Fleeing the bathroom, he towelled himself dry, before dressing in loose sweats and an old T-shirt. The roughness of the fabric grating against his overly sensitive skin. Ruts fucking sucked. Despite his lack of hunger, he knew he had to eat, and had to feed Titan. Feeding Titan came first. The fat tom cat was waiting by his bowl, looking up at Levi as if concerned for his humans health. At least someone still wanted to talk to him. Hanji, Moblit, Erwin and Eren would all probably want nothing to do with him. With his lunch, or breakfast, or maybe even dinner made, Levi collapsed down on his sofa. He should have left Eren at the fucking hospital for Hanji to pick up. Picking up his cup of tea, he stared down at the dark liquid. His life had been so simple before Eren came along with his... no. Eren couldn't help it. He was scared. He was hurting. His body betrayed him due to how distraught the whole mess had left him. As the door to his apartment creaked, he couldn't bring himself to look up. The chain had been across, all his friends knew how to get it off, but only one had the stink that Erwin did "Hey, Levi" Sighing, he placed his cup back down. Of course Erwin fucking knew when he'd come out of his rut. The man knew way too fucking much about him. Closing the door softly behind him, his friend walked over and sank down next to him "Hanji, I'm going to put you on speaker phone" Levi's eyes widened. An uncomfortable feeling forming in the base of his stomach. He'd only heard from her once since this all started, and that was to let him know she had to take Eren to hospital "Hey Levi, it's Hanji" He didn't know what he supposed to say "I just wanted to let you know Eren woke up earlier. He was dehydrated, but he's going to be just fine" "Hanji, Levi's a bit out of it" "Levi, I know you're taking this hard but I have something I need to tell you. Eren remembers everything" Fuck... he didn't want the omega not to, but part of him had hoped he wouldn't... that way... maybe... "He's ok. His post heat has hit him pretty hard, but he remembers and he's really upset. He's worried you're going to hate him and that he's hurt you. You two are so alike. He likes you so much, and now he's terrified he's ruined everything between you. We talked a little, and you need to know, he wanted to have sex with you. But he was scared because Zeke has drummed it into his head that it's wrong and dirty. He doesn't even touch himself during his heat because of it. He's been denying his urges, which is probably part of the reason his heats are so erratic. He wanted it, and he wanted you" "He... he was in heat" "Levi, we talked about it at the hospital and then again during the drive home. He told me himself that you're the only alpha he's ever had the feelings for. Please, I know you're hurting and blaming yourself. And I know no matter what I say, you're going to keep on blaming yourself. Just... just don't give up on him because of this. Don't give up on being with him over this. You both like each other, and you might have gone about things a little backwards, but he likes you. You've been able to get through to him when Moblit and I haven't" He'd heard enough. He didn't want Hanji trying to make him feel better, and even if Eren did forgive him, it only proved how broken the brat really was. He'd taken the omega's virginity. Eren who deserved at least a bed with clean sheets and somewhere safe. Not just a hard fuck in the front of his Range Rover. Reaching out, he ended the call. He couldn't deal with this shit. He wanted to fucking scream. "Levi?" "Not now Erwin" "You need to talk to someone" Levi gave a small laugh "About how I violated an omega?" "You know..." "I know what? He's a fucking abuse victim. He was fucking punched in the face not even half an hour before I fucked him. This. I didn't fucking want to get involved with him because I knew he wasn't fucking ready. Zeke's so far into his fucking head, he's trying to suppress his own dynamic... yet I still fucked him. I knotted him without even thinking. If Hanji hadn't organised for his contraceptive shot, I could have got him pregnant. He can't even look after himself. How's he supposed to... no. I can't do this. You need to go" "Levi, you're not to blame" "I fucked him!" "And from Hanji said, Eren feels the exact same way you do! He has feelings for you! He feels like he forced himself on you and that he's hurt you! He might have gone into heat, but he chose to like you before that" "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about" "Don't I?" "He fucking passed out in my arms. He was emotionally exhausted!" "And you know what. Even after knotting him, you didn't force your mark on him. You cleaned him up. You took him home. You admitted what happened and you put him first. You're not a bad person for sleeping with the people you like, and the person who gave his consent. Eren is so stubborn and hot headed. If he hadn't wanted it, he would have found a way to stop you. Hanji told me about his lucid heats. He can function during them. He even used to go to work while in heat. So stop throwing yourself this fucking pity party and go talk to him properly" "Like he's even going to want to see me" "Right now, you're probably the only person he actually wants to see" "Why? I hurt him" "For fucks sake. I'd forgotten how rotten you got after a rut. You know what. There's no point even trying to talk to you when you're like this. I thought we left all this self destructive bullshit in the past. I've done what Hanji asked. Made sure you didn't die or do anything stupid. Now grow a pair and sort this shit out, before you end up hurting him even more" Storming from his apartment, Erwin slammed the door hard enough to scare Titan. The cat flying through the living area and into his bedroom. Even if Eren forgave him. He didn't know how to forgive himself. He... he liked him so fucking much... a feeling he didn't even understand to begin with... where did they go from here? Eren liked him... he liked Eren... they were definitely sexually compatible, but Eren needed time and space to heal... * Hanji had taken time off work to help him with his post heat depression. Most of the time they cuddled on the sofa, binging bad movies and napping together. He didn't feel great, not when Levi was on his mind constantly. Hanji had said she'd talked to Levi, and explained his feelings to him. He still felt guilty. He'd given into his depression and given into his feelings for Levi. He'd acted ever bit the selfish omega he was and let Levi kiss away his worries. Now the alpha wasn't talking to him, or Hanji, or Moblit. He knew Hanji had tried to ring him a couple of times, with no reply. His own phone had been flooded with messages from Marco, apologising for Jean's behaviour and assuring him he was alright. His friend had an allergy to cherries and hadn't realised they were in the fruit cocktails he'd started their night with. Even if Marco said it was his fault for not thinking to ask, he still felt responsible for what happened. His phone was sitting on the coffee table, glaring at him and demanding his attention, while Hanji was cuddling into him as she snored. It would be so easy to let himself fall asleep. It would be easy to spend another day ignoring reality... but... Levi was suffering and he was the one caused it. Plying Hanji off him, the woman grumbled but didn't wake. Slipping from his spot, he grabbed his phone and headed up to his room. Sitting cross legged on his bed, he took a few breaths as he mentally prepared his speech. He could just say "hey, how are you?", because that seemed not enough. He couldn't beg Levi to forgive him. He couldn't ask him out... he was too fucking scared to do that. And having sex had made him realise he really wasn't ready for it. It still felt like he was betraying Zeke... even if it'd felt right being intimate with Levi. He just... he wanted to hear his voice. Throwing his phone, he snatched it up again before he lost his courage. Scrolling through his contacts, he pulled up Levi's name, realising this was first time he'd ever actually called the alpha... he didn't even call Marco. Hanji and Moblit was it... pressing the device to his ear, his heart was racing at it rang... and rang... and rang... he was right. Levi didn't want to know him. He'd hurt him too badly and the man had abandoned him. Listening to Levi's prerecorded voice message, he let out a shaky breath "Um... Levi... it's me. Uh, Eren. I um... I'm sorry. I really like you. And I don't, um, regret what we did... I just, regret I hurt you. You... mean a lot to me and I've never done anything like that before, but I think the reason it happened was because it's you. I'm sorry. I like you. I like you so much... but I'm so fucked up. I don't blame you for hating me... I'm so sorry" His shaky breathing turned into sobbing. Ending the call, he threw it across his room. That was it. Levi wouldn't come back for him. Just like Zeke hadn't really been there on his birthday. His brother had forgotten all about him because he was too much trouble... and now he'd spelt with an alpha he wasn't even bonded with. Oh... Oh God... What if Zeke found out? Zeke would go after Levi. Levi wouldn't even know what he'd done wrong. Fuck... he couldn't tell Levi to watch out, because the alpha wasn't talking to him. Stumbling off his bed, he nearly broke his neck rushing down the stairs and face planting off them. The thud loud enough to wake Hanji "Eren?" Her voice was sleepy, pushing back the blankets she rose to her feet "Are you ok?" Gathering himself up, he shook his head "I forgot... I wasn't safe... Hanji, you need to call Levi. You need to make sure he's ok" Hanji frowned. Taking him by the arm, she lead him over to the sofa, where she pushed him. Sitting on the coffee table, Hanji took his hands in hers, checking for injuries "I'm sure he's alright" "No... Hanji, I wasn't thinking about Zeke" "Eren. I have no idea what you're talking about" "Zeke. If he thinks Levi did something, he'll go after him" "Oh honey..." "I know what you think, but Zeke is protective. He's had alphas hurt for getting close to me before. I can't let him hurt Levi because of me. Please. Please call him" "Eren, Zeke is gone. You haven't seen him since he left you in hospital" "I... I have. He told me I need to stay here. That means he knows I'm here. He knows about all of you. He can be dangerous when it comes to me. He's the one who put Bertholdt in hospital. Please..." "You've seen him?" "J-just once... he told me he'd come back when it was safe" "And you're not lying?" "No! Not about this. Please Hanji, he needs to be careful" "Levi can take care of himself. He's tough" "But Zeke has contacts and I can't tell him... Levi won't answer if it's from me" "You're really worried for him, aren't you?" "Yes" The word was said with so much force and conviction, Eren surprised himself. Yes. A million times yes "I think he'll be working, so I'll call Erwin. They should be together" The well of hope he felt at Hanji's words ebbed away when he realised that she was also calling Erwin because Levi probably wouldn't answer a call from her either. He'd ruined things between Levi and Hanji. Jean had been more right than he'd known. He was a jinx. He was bad luck and deserved to be left behind. Taking her phone out, Eren wiped at his eyes now his hands were free. He felt so nervous he was sure he would either vomit or pass out. Holding the device out, Hanji put it on speaker. The rings agonisingly repeating until Erwin answered "Hanji? What's up?" "Hey Erwin, I need a favour. Is Levi there with you?" "Yeah, we're on shift. Is everything ok?" The sigh of relief left him feeling deflated "Look. Eren's worried that Zeke is going to go after Levi. He also warned me that he's more than willing to hurt people, even those he's close to. Can you let know not to approach Zeke if he seems him?" "I've got you on speaker" "Thanks Erwin, he's really shaken by this and is worried about Levi's safety" "I'll keep an eye out while we're at work... but hasn't Zeke been gone for months" "Eren's seen him since he left him. Something he's only just decided to tell me about..." There was no mistaking that tone. He was definitely going to get it once Hanji got off the phone "He has?" "Yep. And of course, we have no idea where Zeke is. Both of you should stay safe and keep an eye out" "We will. Thanks Hanji, and thanks for letting us know, Eren" He didn't know what he needed thanking for. He'd done this to all of them. Ending the call, Hanji placed the phone down next to her "I think we need to have a little talk" Glumly, he nodded "You're going to make me tell, aren't you?" "Yeah, I'm sorry. But if people we love are in danger, I need to know what's going on" "And if I tell you... do you promise not to leave me" Climbing from the coffee table, Hanji wrapped her arms around him "Sweet heart. I am not going anywhere. Ok" "But do you promise?" "Pinky promise" Eren's lip trembled, if Zeke knew he told, he'd never forgive him... but if he didn't tell, then they could get hurt "What... what do you want to know?" "How did Zeke come into your life? You love and rely on him so much, so why are you scared of him?" Pulling his legs up, he rested his head on Hanji's shoulder "Please don't tell" It was more like, please don't tell Levi. He didn't want the alpha hating him even more "I won't" "He saved me" "I've heard you say that before" "Because he did... I ended up in a really bad home, who hurt me. That's how I got the scars on my ankles. They'd taken me to hospital and they didn't know what to do with me. I couldn't even talk, but Zeke came in one day. He didn't know he had a little brother until the authorities tracked him down and he became my legal guardian. He punished the people who hurt me, because the police didn't... he showed me photos of their bodies and promised he would always keep me safe... but we had to keep our heads down... we couldn't draw attention to ourselves. I didn't know anything. He taught me. He taught me to cook and clean. He stayed with me through all the nightmares and helped me learn to speak for myself again. He'd kiss me and hold me tight, and let me sleep with him when I was scared. Clean me up when I hurt myself during my heats. He trained me how to be normal and good. He showed me what to do and told me how I need to pay my way through life. A real adult doesn't not pay rent or for food or bills. All I had to do was be good. And I tried so hard to be good for him. A few months after we moved here, Reiner and Bertholdt moved in. They're both really scary... and could easily take Zeke... but he had something on them that kept them loyal. He made them get jobs at the club so I'd be safe to dance, because he knew how much I love it. Then... then I fucked it all up. I got drunk because I was feeling trapped and Zeke was gone. I climbed on the balcony rail because I wanted to fly. and when I jumped back down, I rolled my ankle... that's why Zeke took me to hospital. He was always there for me Hanji. He kept me safe from them. He killed to keep me safe. How could I betray him. I love him! I love him and he left me" Clutching at Hanji, he wailed. He didn't know if he'd told her enough, but he just couldn't tell her anymore about his past "He'd hurt alphas who took too much interest in me. He burnt down the club! I know it was him! He came and told me stay here and not cause trouble. But I did! And now Levi could get hurt!" "Shhh, ok. Ok honey, you've said enough. You're ok..." "I'm sorry!" "Shhhh. You're not responsible for Zeke's actions, and Zeke won't hurt Levi. Not if he loves you like you say he does" "I miss him. I knew what to do when I was with him. I don't know what to do anymore" "I know you don't. I know, but you told me and I'm still here" "You can't look into my past. If they find out... it's not safe. Promise me you won't!" "I told you before I wouldn't" "Please Hanji! I can't lose you! Not you or Moblit!" "We're fine. We're all fine... shhh" Crying himself out of tears, he fell asleep on the sofa. * Levi took Hanji's phone call with a grain of sand. His heart had momentarily raced over the fact Eren was so worried about him, but his anger at himself cut down the feelings blooming from the omega's words. After it, Erwin had spent the rest of their shift monitoring his every action. He knew Zeke was obsessed with Eren, but he'd honestly thought the alpha had abandoned him. The fact Eren said nothing about having seen his brother left him angered. He'd had so many opportunities, and to him it felt like he was throwing the fact Hanji and Moblit had taken him in, back in their faces. He didn't want to be angry at Eren, but how could he not be when the kid wouldn't tell them anything. Checking his phone after work, he sighed when he saw the missed call from Eren. It would be so easy to ignore it. Pretend he never got it, or that Erwin must have deleted it. He knew he that everything other than listening would be taking the cowards way out. Clicking the message, he raised the device to his ear "Um... Levi... it's me. Uh, Eren. I um... I'm sorry. I really like you. And I don't, um, regret what we did... I just, regret I hurt you. You... mean a lot to me and I've never done anything like that before, but I think the reason it happened was because it's you. I'm sorry. I like you. I like you so much... but I'm so fucked up. I don't blame you for hating me... I'm so sorry" The brat sounded to broken. His words fell between sobs as he voice crack with emotion. It must have taken Eren all the courage in the world to reach out and call him, and all because he was worried about him. Levi felt like an even bigger arsehole. This broken and pitiful creature had more courage than any of the alphas he knew, combined. Eren openly admitted he liked him. That he had wanted him. That he didn't regret having sex with him. That was convinced he hated him. The pit in his gut seemed to widen to a chasm. He didn't hate Eren. He was frustrated and annoyed and angry and probably a thousand other emotions when it came to him, but he didn't hate him. He couldn't hate him. The kid was brave and fiery, or broken and sobbing, his emotions like a yoyo, but even so, both sides were still Eren. And he liked him. Even knowing that he had no real idea what he'd be getting into if he took that next step and told him. He'd liked Eren from the very first time they'd met. When Eren had called him constipated and spat out horribly bad pick-up lines. But Hanji had said he'd been abused, and when he'd Zeke all over him, he'd known it to be true. Now the kid was free of his abusers, he wanted Eren to grow and rediscover himself. He was going to therapy, which was huge, and he hadn't wanted to do anything that would jeopardise that. Fuck. He needed to talk to him. He couldn't turn back time and undo what they'd done... but he could talk to him.

congratumalations and merry crimsi i am gifting you pr666n. actually there isnt much pr0n in it, its a lot of aftercare cuz im feeling pretty needy right now, but you get it anyway. second time writing pr0m, hope i didn’t frick it up, sorry it’s shitty. read with caution y’all

“Safe words?” Steve whispered softly in his ear as he stroked up and down his side. The room was warm and the scene was easy, and he had already told his wonderful lovers he was feeling a bit needy today. They would take care of him. He shuddered at the soft touch, and the sounds of Bucky moving behind them. 

“Buzzsaw for pause,” he answered with a quiet sigh. “Welding for stop. And you?” 

He got “monkey” and “airplane”, then “bootstrap” and “mudcrawl”, respectively. They had decided to come up with unique words and symbols because they all felt safer that way, even though they could’ve gone with generic words. They did colors as well, to check in on each other, but the safewords were unique and intimate, and incredibly important -- on that they had all agreed. 

“Alright,” Steve said with a smile and a kiss to his cheek before rising from the bed. Tony shifted, listening to the clanking of the spreader bar attached to his knees and the chains that kept his elbows from straying too far forward. It was supposed to keep him from rutting against the bed, and he knew from experience it was an exquisite torture. “Colors?” 

“Green.” 

“Let’s fuck already!” Tony laughed at Bucky’s impatient tone. Steve huffed, and Tony tilted his head to look at Bucky as he gently settled the soft velvet collar around his neck. He shuddered, a breath whooshing out of him as Steve stroked up and down his back and spoke to him softly, nonsensical endearments before he settled again. (beware of read more) 

“Color?” Steve asked him softly again. Tony closed his eyes, trying to relax, letting his forehead slip down until it was resting on the bed. 

“Green,” he muttered, the warmth in the room making him drowsy. He hated being cold. It was a surefire way to send him into anxiety, and frost had started creeping on the edges of the windows in the morning recently. He was glad Bucky had thought to turn up the heat -- all of them had problems with the chill. 

“Good,” Bucky muttered, pressing soft kisses to the back of his neck and shoulders. “No hard play today. Just the spreader, doll. You tell us what you need.” Tony shuddered again and felt more tension slip out of him, nodding. 

Most of the time he enjoyed being told what to do in bed. It was the only place he didn’t have to feel in control. But today, he wasn’t sure he could handle it, even though he wanted it. So they were dialing back on the dom/sub play. He shivered as Steve settled behind him, running a soft hand over the curve of his ass before teasing one lubed up finger against his hole. He sucked in a breath at the feeling as Bucky settled on the bed next to him, sucking softly on his neck and shoulder -- not hard enough to leave a mark, but solid enough to be present. Not a pain, but a grounding feeling. They were being careful with him, and he appreciated it. 

Gently, Steve worked two fingers inside, stroking and stretching so softly Tony might cry at the tenderness and need welling up inside him. He bucked his hips, moaning when he couldn’t rut against the bed. Bucky let his hands roam, stroking up and down his sides, teasing his nipples, ghosting over his slowly hardening cock. None of them were in a rush, and Tony couldn’t help but think that this is what people meant when they said ‘making love’. 

“Beautiful,” Bucky muttered as he slowly slipped into his headspace despite the lack of play, licking and teasing the sensitive shell of his ear. His fingers tweaked Tony’s nipples, teasing them to hard points. “God, you’re gorgeous like this... Doing so well... Just for us...” Steve twisted his hand and Tony cried out, his back arching as pleasure shot up his spine. 

It was perfect. It was perfect. 

So why couldn’t he get the thoughts of Obadiah out of his head? How helpless he was whenever he was with the man, listening to his cloying lies, hearing the praises that never came from anyone else and were only gaslights for the man who would take everything... 

And Jesus, frozen on the couch with Obie leaning over him... He would be lying if he said it didn’t cross his mind, what the man could do to him, anything, he could’ve taken anything, and lucky he only wanted his life. 

Steve twisted his hand again and he cried out once more, tears springing to his eyes. “No!” He arched his back, rocking forward to try and pull away from them, from the hands that were touching him, they could do anything to him and he wouldn’t be able to stop it, he wouldn’t be able to stop it if they killed him. 

They wouldn’t. But if they did, he wouldn’t be able to stop it. 

Tied up or not. 

Bucky had him gathered up in his arms, warm and strong and smelling of stupid two dollar Head and Shoulders that Tony had come to love as Steve undid the spreader and the straps attached to it, gently repositioning him in Bucky’s lap as his legs came free. “Tony?” he asked, his voice full of fear and worry as he crowded close, gently pressing his hands to Tony’s cheeks. “Tony, are you okay? Baby, talk to us.” 

“I-I- R-Red, welding, I’m s-sorry I can’t-” His voice cracked and tears blurred his vision as he buried between his two lovers, wanting them to shield him from the pain and the fear. They pressed close, sandwiching him between their chests, breathing steadily. 

“Alright, okay doll, you’re alright. We got you.” Bucky pressed his lips to his hair, rocking them both gently as Steve gentled his hands down Tony’s sides, giving the arc reactor a wide berth. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony choked out. He did this more often than he should, and he-

“No, none of that sweetheart,” Steve mumbled, softly kissing his chin. “You’re fine. It’s alright to stop. It’s just sex. You’re more important.”

“What do you need?” Bucky asked gently, still rocking him slowly, and he would be lying if he said the soothing motion wasn’t helping. 

“I want...” Tony’s breath hitched and he reached up to tug on the velvet collar, a rich red that he normally loved but now seemed stifling, suffocating him. His fingers trembled as he tried to work the latch. “I-I need it off- I need to, to be clean, I don’t w-want the, the lube, I can’t-” 

“Okay,” Steve soothed quickly, easily removing the collar and tossing it away. “You’re okay, that’s okay. A bath?” 

“I... Not on my face-” 

“A bath then,” Bucky mumbled. “We’ll keep you above the water, babe. Us with you?” A flash of panic went through Tony at the thought of them leaving him, of him being unprotected, of this being the last straw for them and them not coming back. 

“W-with me,” Tony sobbed. “With me, I just- Don’t leave me-” 

“We won’t leave,” Steve mumbled to his cheek. “We won’t leave you, baby. We love you. More than anything. You’re stuck with us.” 

“Stuck with Stucky.” Bucky smiled at him and Tony couldn’t help the weak chuckle that escaped him. They had discovered shipping names a couple weeks ago and found them amusing. He was fond of ‘starkbucks’. 

“I love you,” he breathed, his voice cracking, as Steve and Bucky peppered his face with soft kisses that didn’t feel overwhelming. He repeated it as they helped him into the bath, as Steve held him in his lap and helped him clean off. As Bucky carefully massaged shampoo into his curls and used a cup to rinse it out, never getting any water on his face. As Steve scrubbed at his back and Bucky massaged his hands. As they cleaned off and teased, all smiles and laughter. As they helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in soft towels and patted him dry. 

As they climbed into bed and ate chocolate and nuts and forced him to drink a bottle of water because “Like hell I’m going to see you dehydrated just because you had a spot of panic, doll”. 

As they wrapped themselves around him and listened while he cried out what was wrong, and told him that it was perfectly alright to feel that way and they would never want him to force himself to keep having sex with them when he felt like that, that they would always be there for him. 

And one more time as he dozed off, exhausted and full and contented and warm. “We love you too, Tony,” Steve whispered into the back of his neck, tightening the arms around him. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” Bucky said with a choked voice to his forehead, pressing a gentling kiss there. 

“Even when I’m fucked up?”

“Especially then.” 

Today, We Fight | 07

Characters: Yoongi x Jimin (Yoonmin) / feat. BTS

Ratings: Mature

Warnings: Character’s Death, Blood, Gore, Violence, Explicit language

Summary: Everything came crashing down when an unknown virus break through within Seoul and the boys find themselves stuck in between the chaos as they struggle for survival for an unknown future waiting for them.

Chapter Index

Awakened by the unfamiliar smell of chemical and the beeping noise that seems too loud in his quiet wake. His eyes flutter open and was immediately blinded by the stray of lights on the ceiling. He blinks as his eyes adjust to the sudden change of brightness. As soon as his eyes could see properly, the first thing he saw was big rounded curious brown eyes peering down on him, as if the owner of the eyes couldn't believe what had happened and deep in his thoughts, he wonders who this person is. He felt confused at first, at the unfamiliarity of everything as he breathes in the air, he realized that there's an oxygen mask on his face. He didn't spoke - ignoring those big eyes still shamelessly staring at him while he focuses around his surrounding instead.

He was indeed in some kind of a room with white coated walls and there's a small window on the left side of the door. It's like some kind of surgical room or perhaps he was in a hospital? The thought soon became evident enough as he notices the line of tube and wires that's attached on his hands and arms to an IV drip and a blood bag. The beeping sound he'd heard was actually the sound of his own heart rates. He frowns when he'd failed to remember how and why was he here and the throbbing on his head, didn't help much either and the only other option he had was to ask this stranger since he's the only person who seem to know why he's here, by the look of concern the stranger was giving him.

He tried to sit up before he could start asking any questions but he finds himself unable to do so as he was restrained to the bed. His frowns deepen questioningly but then again, he felt too weak to even try struggling against it and just give up as he sinks back down on the soft mattress, eyes meeting the brown ones. The moment their eyes met, the man lips curled into a boxy grin and his big brown curious eyes became soft and gentle. As if the man was glad and relieve at the same time. He didn't understand why but his heart clenched at the sight of the stranger smiling warmly at him, making his own lips turn into a smile too.

He licks his lips and try swallowing but his throat felt dry – the stranger, as if he could sense his problems, stood up from the chair he was seating at and went to pour the jug of water into a glass, from the tray next to his bed. He watches as the stranger turn to him with the glass of water – still having that warm gentle smile on his face as he helps him removed the oxygen mask and lifted his head with careful and gentle hands for him to drink it.

He gulped the drink down greedily and felt an instant relieve for his dehydrated body. The stranger pours another glass of water and he happily drank it again and smiles at him as a thank you for the stranger's kindness towards him. The man sat back down next to him, this time taking his hand in his and thumb soothing circles at the back of his hand. The words he spoke to him was so soft, he almost couldn't hear it at first.

"Hey.. - how are you feeling?"

He stares at the stranger for a while longer before answering, "F-fine, I guess." His brows furrowed, even though he'd drink water, his voice came out gruff and raspy. He licks his lips again, preparing himself to ask the question that's been at the tip of his tongue.

"W-who are you? - why am I here?" The stranger reaches forward with his other hand and pat his head gently while smiling. The words he said next, left him frowning in question.

"I'm glad you made it."

The words itself felt heavy and strained, as if something really bad was happening and that the man was trying his really best not to blurted out anything inappropriate that could've freak him out, judging by the frowns on his face and the thin line of his lips. The stranger seems to hesitate for a moment and contemplate whether or not he should say something else but he ended up speaking again, answering his question.

"I'm Kim Taehyung. - Your best friend. Don't you remember me?"  

His name seems to struck a nerve in his brain but everything was still fuzzy and when he'd force to remember ever having a best friend, his head throbs painfully. His eyes squeeze shut, groaning in pain.

"Hey, hey, easy there. Don't force yourself. I-it's okay, you don't have to remember it now. It'll be okay." Taehyung coos at him while gently stroking his hair. He wanted to question it and demand an explanation of why he couldn't remember anything, why he was here, how did he end up here and the most important questioned – who is he? Even if he tried his best to remember it, he couldn't and it frustrate him more than he's willing to admit and the throbbing pain just won't go away.

"It hurts." He whispered, glancing at Taehyung's strained smile while he continues to assure him that everything will be fine and it'll go away. "Just breathe alright? Just don't -" Taehyung's words were cut off by another sound of groaning and rustling from the other side of the room and somehow the distraction caught both of their attention. He wasn't aware at first that there's someone else in the room besides him and Taehyung. His eyes move towards the slumping figure on the white couch. The first thing that caught his eyes was the man's blonde hair and his porcelain pale skin. Unknowingly, his heart skips a beat at the sight, making the monitor go slightly off with it and the throbbing pain he'd felt earlier had vanished. He blushes when Taehyung chuckles, nodding his head knowingly.

"hm, he's adorable, isn't he? Even if you can't remember anything, he will always be there isn't he."

The insinuation that whoever this person is, he's not just someone that's part of his life. Whoever he is, he's more than that. He looked away, embarrassed. Not knowing whether he should deny it but he decides to remain quiet instead and observe as Taehyung walked up to the other man and shakes him gently awake, murmuring something to his ears that he couldn't make out what he was actually saying to him.  

The man jolted awake and theirs eyes immediately met. His gaze was intensely cold but he could see that there's a glint of relieve and longing within as he continues to talk with Taehyung. The man nodded a few times at something Taehyung was saying to him and he frowns with a thin line on his lips but when their eyes met again, he smiles at him tenderly – focusing back on Taehyung and he couldn't help but felt his heart clenched at the familiarity of it, as if deep within him, he knew who he is to him but he couldn't figure it out what it is exactly.

After Taehyung's done talking with him, Taehyung turns to walk back to him. Taehyung smile brightly at him, "I'll leave you two alone now." He said with a peck on his forehead, winking at him before the door closes. The room immediately felt tensed and he wished Taehyung didn't leave him alone with this handsome stranger who is just standing there watching him from the distance.

The butterfly in his stomach grows when the man continues to stare at him. Despite feeling uneasy, he gathers his courage up and smile at him and the guy automatically smile back which apparently wasn't what he'd been expecting to get in return. He'd expected the guy would just shrugged him off and storm off or something but not this, smiling with a hint of sadness in his eyes and the guilt behind it definitely didn't go unnoticed too.

He watches as something in the stranger seem to hesitates but then he sighs and stood up from the couch and walk over towards him and the next thing he knew, he felt soft lips pressing on his. The kiss was gentle and soft. If he knew better, the kiss was more hesitant, as if he was afraid that he would hurt him even with the slightest pressure. Even though he was taken aback by the sudden affection of the stranger, somehow his lips on him felt so familiar and fits so perfectly that it puzzles him more when he felt the longing and the crave of it as if he'd been doing it since forever.

That thought itself was unsettling and he finds himself pulling away from it quickly. The hurt looks on the man face was visible enough to make him feel his heart broke at the sight. The man looks away from him with sad guilty eyes as he mumbles, "I'm sorry. I just.." He trails off with a slight quiver to his lips.

"Don't be." He whispered, something about their shared kiss had knocked his breath away and he finds himself starting to regret pulling away from it. The stranger turns to face him, he could see now that the man was holding his tears back. He felt his stomach recoils and his heart felt tight suddenly at the sight and something about the way the stranger looks at him, makes his fingers ache so much that he wanted to hold him in his arms and caress his cheeks even though he can't remember anything about him but he couldn't do it since he was bounded on the bed.

"hey, please don't cry. - if you do, I won't be able to hug you and comfort you properly with this thing restraining me and you look ugly if you did." The man, chuckled then but there's still sadness evident in his eyes as stray tear slips down his cheeks. He frowned as he watches in agony as the man continues to laugh with more tears flowing down his cheeks.

"How can you..-" His voiced crack due to the silent sob the man tries so hard to control. "-even say that when you don't even remember who.. Who I am or your own name." There's no vemon in his voice but he couldn't help not noticing the guilt in his voice.

"Oh god, this is all my fault. I-I shouldn't-" The man whimpered as tears burst out of him, burying his face in his hand. "I'm sorry.. I'm really sorry, Jimin. I-It's all my fault-"

"Jimin? Is that my name?"

"huh? - what?" The man looked up, suddenly taken aback at his own words as he wipes away the tears on his sleeve.

"Is Jimin my name?"

He hesitated, licking his lips before he nodded and Jimin couldn't help but stares at his wet pink lips. Something about those lips makes him wants to kiss it until its swollen and red. Jimin smiles at him, crescent eyes twinkling.

"Your name is Park Jimin."

The way he said the name came out choked and strained as if the name itself brings unbearable memories and guilt. Jimin's smile widened suddenly as he averts his eyes away from him, "so, that's what it is." He whispered to himself. The man just frowns at him worriedly and when Jimin looks back up at him, he finds himself flushed red.

"Hi, I'm Park Jimin, nice to meet you."

The man stares at him, dumbfounded. "I-I'm Min Yoongi, nice to meet you too." He whispered back hesitantly.

Jimin's smile falters and he frowned when he'd heard his name. Min Yoongi – wait, Min Yoongi? Jimin's head throbs suddenly and he tried his best to hold off his groans and whines but the pain was too much for him. Jimin grimaced as his heart beats increases, closing his eyes shut as everything floods through his brain in rapid blurs of images. Jimin couldn't hear the desperate cry of Yoongi calling his name nor the way Yoongi had shouted to call for help.

All he could hear was Min Yoongi, all he sees is Min Yoongi – Yoongi's name echoes loudly through the pieces of memories of him calling out to Yoongi and giggling, the way Jimin had looked at him for the first time he'd realized that he was in love with Yoongi, the longing in his heart and the temptation to press his lips on Yoongi's.

His beautiful gummy smile that Jimin adores the most. The way the sound of his name rolled off of Yoongi's tongue, the way Yoongi would laughs at his silly jokes. Them working on a song together, snuggling with each other while watching movies with big fluffy blankets on the couch and then the images changes to the virus outbreaks. Jimin running for his life and Yoongi almost died in a car accident, him crying and begging for Yoongi to stay awake, him carrying Yoongi and Yoongi confessing his love to him and finally getting to taste Yoongi's lips and then everything became black for a moment. The only images that flashes was Yoongi gazing down at him with teary eyes, desperately calling out his name and everything after that was blank.

Jimin's body seem to relax after the throbbing pain in his head stop and his heart beats eventually calm down. His breathing was back to normal and he could hear a few rushes of footsteps coming towards him and the next thing he knew, he wasn't restrained anymore. Someone was talking and checking on him. He could feel a cold metal touches his bare chest and then it was quiet again or maybe not – perhaps he's fallen asleep, he didn't know what it is anymore after something pierce his skin – a needle perhaps.

The next time Jimin was awake was when he'd heard familiar voices talking about him but he continues to pretend that he was unconscious.

"How was he, hyung?" A deep voice spoke in a whisper – Taehyung.

"He seems to have calm down a bit. I wish I hadn't told him my name. - it must have been a traumatic experience for him to remember falling for someone like me, only to run and abandoned him to die." Jimin's heart clenched when he heard how sad and devastated Yoongi sounded. The regret and the guilt he was feeling for blaming himself for what had happened towards Jimin, break his heart even more. Jimin had never blame him for it, he knew that none of this was beyond their control.

"Hyung, how could you say that? I might be young but I know damn well that Jiminnie hyung love you more than he loves himself. - if anything, it was my fault in the first place. If only I would have listened to Jiminnie hyung's warning, none of this would have happened to him. If anything, it's me hyung."

Jimin frowns when Jungkook's voice almost sounded like he was at the verge of tears. The crack of his voice was evident enough for his ears to know.

"c'on you two, none of this happen was anyone's fault okay. - not me, not Yoongi, not you. It's whoever the hell it is that let that virus broke out. If anything, he or she is to be blame and we can't just stand here and mope around blaming each other when we don't even know where the hell Namjoon hyung, Jin hyung or Hobi hyung is – if anyone was even safe yet."

"why do you sound so much like Jiminnie, Tae." Jimin smiles when he'd heard them laugh. He misses the sound of them laughing, the warmth that spreads all over his body felt like home. They're his home.

Jimin opens his eyes slowly, blinking as his eyes adjust to the brightness of the room. He smiles at the three familiar faces looking back at him, when they'd notice he's awake. Jimin sat up a little and brought both his arm up and make grabby fingers at Yoongi's direction. Yoongi hesitated at first, unsure if he really should approach him in case Jimin would had another traumatic attack.

Jimin pouted when he realized that Yoongi wouldn't budge from where he was standing. "Yoongi, come here please." Jimin whines adorably with his grabby chubby fingers. That gestures itself had convince Yoongi that, the person calling him right now was none other than his Jimin.

Jimin was glad that his favorite gummy smile was shown to him and soon, he felt Yoongi's warmness against his. Jimin heave out a sigh of relief and nuzzled against Yoongi's neck, hugging him even tighter and inhaling Yoongi's scent. Jimin misses this – misses Yoongi. It felt like eternity of them being apart.

"I miss you, Yoongi." Jimin whispers softly, not realizing that Taehyung and Jungkook had left the room for their reunion. "I miss you more, baby." Yoongi breathes out, pulling away slightly and cupping Jimin's cheeks as he presses his lips against Jimin's plush plum one. Yoongi sighs between kisses at the familiarity of his lover lips on his. The kiss started out slow and lazy as if they had the entire world.

Jimin slips his hand around Yoongi's neck and soon their kisses became deeper and more intense, both seeking each other's warmth with desperation as Yoongi pulled him even closer, resulting in Jimin siting on his lap and Yoongi ran his hands up and down on Jimin's bare side. Jimin moaned into the kiss, feeling the arousal pooling down as something in his pants twitch. Yoongi took the opportunity of his parted lips to slips his tongue in. Their tongues tangles against each other – exploring desperately.

"I've miss you so, so much baby. - I've waited so long for this. I love you, Park Jimin." Yoongi said breathlessly between their heated kisses and Jimin suddenly pulled away, putting a finger on Yoongi's lip when he'd leaned forward to chase after his lips with half lidded eyes staring hungrily on Jimin's lips. Jimin giggles when Yoongi groaned in protest for being denied of any contacts.

"wait, wait.- " Jimin giggles when Yoongi noses behind his ear and nibbled at the skin just below his jaw. "-I know you miss me and I miss you too, Yoongi. but what you mean, you've waited so long?"

Yoongi freezes and Jimin push him away so that they could see each other faces. Yoongi frowns, contemplating whether or not he should tell Jimin the truth. "Yoongi.. - how long have I been unconscious?"

"does it matter, hm? You're alright now and we're together again, right? What matters now is that you're alive and that I'll never leave you again, ever." Yoongi holds both of his hand in his while rubbing soothing circles with his thumb and averts his eyes away from Jimin, "I'm sorry."

Jimin understand what he's apologizing for and Jimin wasn't sure if anything else he'd said would make Yoongi stop blaming himself any more than he already is. Jimin pulls one of his hand out of Yoongi's and cupped his cheeks. Yoongi leans in to the touch of Jimin's warm hand while his thumb strokes the apple of Yoongi's cheek.

"Hey, look at me." Jimin whispers and Yoongi looked at him with teary eyes. "I forgive you, Yoongi. Even if it's not your fault. None of this is your fault. - You're right, what matters now is that I'm alive and that no matter what happen, I'll still love you." Jimin smiles and pulls him closer by the nape of Yoongi's neck and kisses him.

Later into the night, Jimin had found out from Jungkook that an infected had scratch him and the process of being infected himself was the actual reason Jimin wasn't aware that there's another infected coming onto him before Jimin had hit his head on the ground and blackout. Taehyung had managed to get their stuffs out the building and when he'd came back to help, Yoongi was already by Jimin's side, crying and cradling a bloodied head Jimin in his arms.

That's when they all heard a gunshot, killing each of the infected that they were struggling with. They found out then that the military was patrolling the streets in search for any survivors and had heard the sound of someone screaming thus they came to their rescue and brought all of them here. Jimin also found out from Taehyung that Yoongi had made a big fuss and almost break into a fight, if not for Jungkook holding him down with one of the soldiers when they had refused to let Yoongi stay by Jimin's side while a few expert's scientist examined him in their lab. What shocks Jimin the most was the duration of his being unconscious.

"What?! Two months?!"  

Taehyung quickly clamps Jimin's mouth to shut him up. "Dammit Jimin, keep it down, will you? Yoongi hyung will kill me if he knows what I'm telling you right now." Taehyung gives a nervous glance beside him and Jimin turns to look at the sleeping Yoongi next to him, arms wrapped tightly against Jimin's torso as his chest rise and fall steadily. Jimin strokes his blonde hair gently and Yoongi stirs, mumbling something that Jimin can't figure out as he snuggled closer to him. Jimin can't help but smiles at how clingy Yoongi is. He'd never seen Yoongi behave like this before, if anything of some sort, Jimin was the clingy one among them. By the time Jimin focus his attention back on Taehyung, he had an endearing smile on his face while he watched Yoongi cling on Jimin like a koala and soon he realized that Jimin was staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

"what?"

Jimin shakes his head, "I've never seen you looked that way before, Tae. - are you-"

"no. It's not what you think it is. - it's just that, he's been torturing himself and keep on saying that it's his fault and he didn't even sleep or eat properly for that duration you've been in coma. All he does was cry until he falls asleep exhausted. Even Jungkook and I can't do anything to make him feel better. Sometimes I wished at a time like this, hobi hyung was here to help. - Yoongi hyung was so miserable and lost without you, Jiminie. I prayed so hard that you'd wake up because Yoongi hyung-" Taehyung's voice cracked at the end of the sentence, tears brimming in his eyes and Jungkook who was standing behind him all this time, squeeze his shoulder in hopes of comforting him. Taehyung looks up and give a grateful smile and continues speaking.

"-he.. He tried to kill himself." Jimin's eyes widened in shock, his heart tightens at the unexpected news and unconsciously tighten his fist in Yoongi's hair, earning a whine from him. Jimin glances at him still sleeping, "shh.. I'm sorry." Jimin whispered and kisses Yoongi's forehead and gently strokes his hair again. Yoongi relaxes then and hugs Jimin even tighter.

"You know hyung, I found him crying one night with a bleeding wrist. He said that his life means nothing without you and he would rather die than live a life without you in it. We were devastated and didn't know what to do but then You-"

Jimin continues to play with Yoongi's hair, not daring to look at either one of them in the eyes as each of their voices cracked with the pained memories they'd have to recall for him, Jimin knows it must be really hard for them to watch everything unfolds and be helpless at the same time. The thought itself makes his heart ache, how he wishes he could've awaken sooner and prevent all of this. Just knowing that his friends are suffering because of him, hurts. Looking at Yoongi now, all soft and vulnerable in his arms, Jimin can't imagine how he must have felt, not knowing when he'd be awake again or if he ever would.

"-you suddenly started screaming and struggling in pain. You were crying in your sleep." Jimin frowns at that, he wondered why was he crying and why can't he remember doing so. "I was crying?"

Both Taehyung and Jungkook nodded. "why?" Jimin asked.

"one of the doctors said that, you were probably having a few traumatic nightmares or you might have heard us. We weren't sure but the doctor said that it's a good sign of the possibility of you waking up. - you did though but the first time you were awake, you couldn't see us." Taehyung explained.

"You mean, I was blind?" Jimin could see the hesitation in both of his friends when he looked at them then. Everything was too much for him to take in all at once but somehow, he couldn't help it. He wanted to know, he needed answers and they're the only one willing to give it to him with the exception of Yoongi.

"no, no. It's just that you were only awake for a second before you went back in a coma. Yoongi hyung was devastated but then all thoughts of killing himself was gone when you first opened your eyes and after that Yoongi hyung refused to leave your side in hopes of you waking up again. - the doctors then told us that, you're the first person to survive the virus and they would want to examine you further if you were awake again. But.."

Jungkook trails off, unsure if he should continue and squeeze Taehyung's shoulder, hoping he would get the message but Jimin just raises his eyebrows in questioned. "but what, kookie?"

Yoongi stirs and started whining suddenly, opening one eye sleepily. "Jiminie baby, why aren't you sleeping yet? - why are the both of you here?" Yoongi's voice was raspy and groggy from sleep but the way he was looking at Taehyung and Jungkook, was accusatory enough to makes them both understand what he's trying to do and he'd obviously heard everything despite Yoongi being asleep. "We were just talking, hyung." Jungkook said innocently with wide eyes. "we were just leaving anyway." Taehyung chips in. "Get some rest chim, we'll continue later. - let's go kookie." Taehyung flashes a boxy smile before he and Jungkook left them alone.

"come on, let's sleep." Yoongi tugs Jimin down on the bed next to him. "I tried but I can't, I've been sleeping for what seems like eternity, remember?" Jimin whines and something in Yoongi's eyes seems glassy or perhaps it's just the light coming from the window. "I know but there's nothing else you could do besides sleeping." Yoongi reaches a hand out and caress Jimin's cheeks tenderly. "there is something we could do." Jimin smirk slyly.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows as Jimin inches closer. Their noses almost touching. "yeah?" Yoongi whispered, staring down at Jimin's plum lips and with the close proximity of Jimin next to him, causes his heart to skip a beat. Jimin grinned cheekily with half lidded eyes moving from Yoongi's to his pink pouty lips. "Yeah." Jimin whispered back and the next thing Yoongi felt was soft plush plum lips pressing against his pouty ones.

A/N: just a heads up, there will be smut in the next chapter but i can’t promise that it would be explicit. I just can’t stop cringing when I’m writing for the next chapter though. lmao can someone kill me please. anyway, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy reading this chapter too. i love you all <3

Shattered Minds Chapter Five: Combating Jakob

Chapter five! Virgil does not deserve anything that happens to him.

(Written by @cresstic and @fandomfreak-19)

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Violence

Judas took a deep breath, heading up the stairs and past Roman's room. He could hear him singing along to song from Pocahontas… clearly his voice was fine. He sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before continuing down the hall and around the corner. Hesitating slightly, he knocked on Logan's door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door partially, peeking his head inside before walking into the room. "Hello, Logan."

The other glanced over, setting his book down and turning in his chair. “Ah, hello Deceit. How can I help you?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and sitting on Logan's bed "I... I was hoping you could help with this... personality issue? Is that what you called it?"

Logan nodded, settling back in his chair. “I was doing research: Dissociative Identity Disorder, it used to be referred to as Multiple Personality Disorder, which is what Virgil called it. It changed recently.”

Judas nodded. "And is there a way to treat it? Or better yet cure it?” he asked, trying his best not to get too hopeful.

Logan sighed. ”As of current, there is not a cure. Long term, psychological therapy is recommended. It most commonly arises from abuse or trauma in childhood, so talking with a therapist or psychologist is the most recommended,” he gave Judas a slight glance as he said that, “however, short term, it’s good to be able to recognize and react to whatever triggers the shift; in terms of your situation, the almost “possession” like reaction of your alter.”

Although he was slightly confused with the terms Logan used, he understood what he was trying to say. "Yeah... I've noticed that he'll take over when I'm vulnerable, like when I'm feeding, and sometimes I get irrationally angry or frustrated, and he shows up again," he sighed, wings drooping a little.

Logan nodded. “In that case, it would be best to isolate those situations, stay aware of when they might occur.” He scanned his eyes over the other. “However much I do not think it’s safe for Virgil to be your food source, I cannot dictate his or your actions. However, I highly recommend staying aware of your mental state before, during, and after feeding, to prevent any unnecessary conflict.”

Judas nodded slightly. "Right, I've been keeping track, and as long as I'm not interrupted I don't think he'll show up."

Logan sighed. “Well then that’s good. Despite my research into the subject, I still heavily recommend that you go see a psychologist regarding this, especially if it puts Virgil’s health at risk. I’m more than happy to provide assistance, but DID is a complicated disorder, and I don’t claim to be an expert.”

He nodded again, standing and running a hand through his hair. "Thanks for the help," Judas said.

“Of course. Take care of yourself, and let me know if I can provide any more assistance.”

"Sure." He turned to leave, just reaching the door as he froze, stiffening, before chuckling and looking over his left shoulder at Logan, a smirk on the snake like half of his face. "You think I couldn't hear you?" Jakob sneered, his voice echoing.

Logan’s wings fluffed up instantly as his face darkened. “Hardly. I am aware that alters are knowledgeable of the events going on in their host’s lives. That still does not change anything.”

Turning fully around, crossing his arms. "And how are you so sure he's not the alternate one?" Jakob questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Hosts mostly do not have control of their alters without said alter’s permission, while alters are often able to take over, as you just did.” Logan stood up, letting his wings expand some to take up space.

"Ooohhh, you think you're so scary don't you?" Jakob rolled his eyes, letting his arms drop to his sides in fists.

Logan crossed his arms. “I hardly see myself sitting idly by while you obviously attempt to intimidate me.”

He huffed, his fists tightening. "I could easily snap your neck if I wanted," he growled, taking a step closer.

“Do you suppose you could get away with that so simply?” Logan set his jaw, standing his ground. “I’m hardly weak, and all it takes me shouting to have the others here in an instant. Four against one.” He sighed slightly. “I have no wish to fight with you.”

Jakob paused, glaring now. "And you think I couldn't shut you up?" he growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Maybe. Likely not before I could get a sound out.” Logan uncrossed his arms, tensed slightly.

"You're scared," he chuckled, rolling his head around to crack his neck.

“I’m prepared, should you really think-”

He was cut off as Virgil opened the door, very obviously on edge. “Jakob,” he said firmly but quietly.

The vampire whipped around, glaring and hissing at Virgil. "Why are you here?"

He met Jakob’s eyes for a brief second before looking away. “He hasn’t done anything, leave him alone.”

Jakob sighed in frustration. "Fine then, I suppose I have some type of moral compass... but I'm leaving him alone because I can guarantee hurting him will get us kicked out," he smirked, not only meaning himself and Virgil, but both himself and Judas.

Virgil chewed his lip, nodding. He met Logan’s gaze, desperately trying to keep him from saying anything or stepping in, but quickly dropped it, not wanting to anger Jakob even more as the alter sighed.

"Well since all sense of tension is gone," he looked between the two, "I might as well give you him back." He chuckled, blinking before falling to the floor on his hands and knees.

Virgil let out the breath he was holding, lunging forward and kneeling beside him. “Judas? Are you okay?”

He panted softly, shaking his head to try and clear it. "Y-yeah... I think so." He looked between the two others in the room, sitting back on his heels. "What... happened?"

Virgil ran his fingers through the other’s hair softly, looking expectantly at Logan, who blinked quickly, seeming to come to. “I- uh... Right as you were about to leave he took over, asking if I genuinely thought that he could not hear our conversation. And then proceeded to threaten me until Virgil came in.”

Virgil nodded. “I said that Logan hadn’t done anything and to leave him alone.”

"And he did," Judas concluded, nodding and putting a hand to his head with a wince. "My head is pounding," he frowned.

Virgil looked at Logan, who shook his head, confused. “Let’s get you some water, okay? I have some in my room.”

Judas nodded, standing slowly and carefully, using the wall for help and following the other out and back to his room. Virgil immediately went over to his night stand, taking a bottle of water and handing it to him. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”

"Ah... yeah I think so." He opened the bottle and took a drink. "It's probably just dehydration."

Virgil scanned over him, clearly not buying it, but not having any other suggestions. He sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him, and Judas took the seat.

"Maybe I should just leave again," he mumbled, his wings sagging.

Virgil’s expression sadden, immediately pulling him into his arms. “It’s just handling it, love. We need to work through that. Did Logan recommend anything?”

"Therapy," Judas grunted in response, "Keeping track of what makes him show up."

“Then we’ll try that, yeah?” He tried to meet the other’s eyes, brushing through his hair. “I’m not just giving up on you.”

He smiled slightly, feeling his face heat up at Virgil's touch. “Even if it would help... I'd rather avoid therapy." He put his hand on Virgil's.

Virgil frowned some. “Why? It could solve this...”

"I know that, it's just… I hate talking to people," he confessed, looking away and taking another sip of water.

Virgil bit his lip. “Well... I understand that. But if he’s threatening people...” he trailed off, knowing full well he was doing more than simply threatening. “Just don’t completely turn down the idea yet, okay? We’ll see how it goes.”

Judas nodded slightly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "How many has he threatened here?" he asked quietly.

Virgil shook his head at the other’s worry. “Just me and Logan now. I promise.”

The vampire ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. "Alright... OK. Nothing physical?"

Virgil blinked, shaking his head. “He’s pushed me around before. And... the feeding I guess, but,” he shrugged.

"But?" Judas questioned, raising an eyebrow and looking over at Virgil.

“Just saying that that’s all. Nothing but that stuff.” Virgil stroked the side of his face, trying to get him to relax.

He smiled slightly, releasing the tension in his shoulders that he didn't know he was holding. "I'm glad I've got someone like you here."

Virgil smiled softly. “Well I don’t plan on leaving, love. Don’t worry about that.”

He sighed, hugging Virgil softly. "Thank you."

Virgil tucked the other against himself, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing his back. “Of course.”

*****

Virgil sat down on the couch, feet tucked underneath him, and handed Judas one of the cups in his hand. “What do you want to watch? We could blast an action movie like a movie theater,” he suggested. All of the others had gone out for various reasons, none planning on being back soon.

Judas laughed, sitting beside him and taking the cup, crossing his legs. "Actually, have you seen The Greatest Showman? It's one of my favorites."

Virgil grinned. “I haven’t yet, but I’ve been wanting to see it and totally legally obtained it,” he quipped, clicking to the downloaded copy.

Judas snorted, rolling his eyes. "Fair warning, it's a musical... And I miiiight know all the songs," he laughed, "I'll be Roman for a while."

Virgil grinned. “I know. Go for it, I want to hear you sing.” He reached out and poked Judas’ cheek teasingly.

He blushed, bunching his shoulders as his wings fluffed up, "Well now I won't," he countered.

“Noooo,” Virgil whined, collapsing on top him. “That’s not fair.”

"Gah!" Judas exclaimed with a smirk, rolling his eyes. "Fine, fine... Just play it," he chuckled.

Virgil laughed, sticking out his tongue at the other, before sitting up and grabbing the remote again to play the movie. He lounged back against him, tucking his wings over the back of the couch as Judas sighed softly, smirking down at the man he loved, and humming along with the opening song.

“The way they’re doing this is really cool,” Virgil muttered, eyes trained on the screen. “And the music is like… chilling.”

Judas laughed. "I know! I love this one! All the songs are pretty great though, and… there's some love songs," he chuckled.

Virgil smiled softly, watching as the movie went on. He laughed along with the children, and flinched when the man slapping the boy, a sneer crossing his face. Judas sighed, wincing at the same moment and squeezing Virgil's hand. "One of the worst parts," he mumbled.

“It’s stupid,” Virgil grumbled.

His eyes lit up again as the next song began, leaning forward slightly to enjoy the kids running around the old house as Judas mouthed along with the words, chuckling when P.T. scared Charity, soon singing along quietly.

Virgil glanced at him for a moment and smiled faintly, trying not to make it obvious but mostly listening to the other’s singing. Eventually Judas relaxed, purposefully keeping his voice low so he could hear the original, and grinning when P.T. proposed.

Virgil’s smile grew when the two girls showed up.

"They're adorable." Judas laughed.

When the song “Rewrite the Stars” began he sang along with it, watching as Virgil glanced over at the other with a soft smile, yet at the same time almost sad at the two characters saying they couldn’t be together. He bit it lip gently, turning back to watch the scene.

Once the movie ended, Judas stood and stretched. He had made popcorn during the downtime in the movie and started cleaning the bowl and cups. "So? What did you think?" He glanced over at Virgil, smiling at the other’s grin.

“It was really good. They portrayed everything so well?”

He nodded in agreement, drying the dishes and putting them away. "Don't let Roman know you have it though, or you'll be hearing the songs for weeks," he laughed.

Virgil snorted. “He’ll probably be hearing [me] singing the songs for weeks.”

"Well there's something I never thought I'd hear from you" Judas chuckled. "What happened to 'I don't sing,' hmm?" he smirked.

Virgil made a face at him. “They’re good songs.”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. "As opposed to?"

“I dunno, whatever Roman sings,” Virgil replied as he splayed out on the couch, letting his wings stretch out, almost knocking something off the coffee table. Judas shook his head lightly, smirking and moving the things on the table out of the way before sitting at the other’s feet with a sigh.

"This is nice."

Virgil scooted closer and draping his feet in the other’s lap, eyeing him with a mischievous grin to which Judas rolled his eyes, resting his hands him. “Yep. I’m glad you recommended it.”

“I’m glad you liked it-"

He paused, frowning and blinking before letting out a sigh of annoyance and frustration. "Ugh, gag... I'm so done with this lovey-dovey shit," Jakob chuckled darkly, tightening a grip on Virgil's ankle.

Virgil immediately propped himself up on his elbows, trying to pull his legs away. “I didn’t even do anything,” he pleaded warily.

Jakob laughed. "You think that'll work?” He yanked Virgil closer to him, hissing as he grabbed his wrist over the mostly healed cuts, making the other wince.

“What did I do? I’m sorry,” he rushed out, panicked.

"Nothing, yet," Jakob smirked, pulling Virgil into a sitting position and staring at him. "Just wanted to inject a little excitement."

Virgil lowered his eyes, trying to pull away. “Please don’t, not now, please.”

"What? He was going to feed tomorrow anyway," Jakob chuckled darkly, his eyes flashing as he examined Virgil's neck.

Virgil whimpered in fear but jammed his knee into the other’s side, beating his wings as he tried to get away.

Jakob grunted at the sudden assault, growling and hissing before pinning Virgil to the couch, holding him by the shoulders with his knees digging into his legs. "Don't you fucking dare try that again.”

Virgil shrunk back instantly, eyes lowered as he grit his teeth against the pain. “I’m sorry...” he breathed.

The vampire huffed. "I was going to make this less painful than last time, but not anymore," he growled, sinking his fangs deep into Virgil's neck who let out a choked cry. He writhed against the other, muttering a chain of pleas only to be met with an animalistic growl, Jakob forcing him to stay still as he fed.

Virgil whined, letting his head fall back and his eyes close to stop the room from spinning. “Please...” he whimpered.

Jakob glanced at the clock, pulling away after another 30 seconds or so, having fed a full minute more than Judas usually did. He sighed, wiping the blood from his mouth before licking it from his hand.

Virgil groaned, both in relief and pain, swallowing harshly and barely able to focus. He had gone mostly slack against the couch, quivering slightly.

With a glance down at him, Jakob chuckled, licking the wounds clean, not wanting him to lose any more blood. He sighed, stretching and getting up, before grabbing Virgil by the arm, deciding that taking him by the hair might leave some missing and be too obvious. "Come on, let's head up to your room," he smirked, dragging him toward the stairs.

Virgil whimpered, stumbling as he tried to stand but his legs were too weak. He let out a hiss of pain. “Stop, stop, stop, please stop...”

"Why should I?" Jakob glanced back at Virgil, a cruel smirk on his face as he forced Virgil up the stairs, the smaller crying out as he sharply hit the steps.

“It hurts,” he shouted, “please.”

Jakob just laughed, ignoring him as he opened the door and tossed Virgil onto the bed harshly, locking the door behind him.