#and if any of his human coworkers tried to stop him he would literally grab them and break their arms

[cherry-shipping]

BTW during my nightly nap i had a dream abt horrortale sans...... it was sorta all over the place cause i fell asleep watching youtube so it affected the course of my dream a lot but i think it was something along the lines of him working someplace on the surface and saw me from afar semi-regularly and was like. really weirdly fixated on me. but he was totally nuts about it too like hed follow me around with the sole intention of trying to figure out WHY he was fixated on me and what id done to make it that way. like. obviously there was something mega suspicious about me since he couldnt get me out of his head and also he thought i was the one stalking HIM because i kept showing up in places he went to. like i remember he had some special quiet place near his work where hed go to watch a nearby lake and calm down (super cute) and it was way behind some bushes and shit so it was like a secret for him. but then he went there one day and i was there napping in the grass and he was like ok what the fuck. anyway all in all it was a good dream and i think thats sort of what hed be like, even just regular sans is like that too. also my appearance in this dream was that of my self insert which was neat and also there was a part where he was watching me in secret and i was stressed out and he saw me take my eyepatch off and stab myself in the fucking eye over and over again and he was like. woah Thats just like when i pick my broken eyesocket....... and it was like a whole thing. lmfao

#cherry chats #bf (bone friend) #long and jumbled ass post but whatever it was a dream so it was pretty messy already #another fun thing was that at times hed see me pass by his workplace and he would be dead set on following me #so hed just up and leave. not even on break or anything like he just Left #and if any of his human coworkers tried to stop him he would literally grab them and break their arms #like. they reach out a hand he grabs it and just fucking crushes it #like that scene in from dawn til dusk. if anyone remembers that. #and that was like a regular thing. dunno how he didnt get fired but it was funny as hell #in fact i think he even regularly crushed peoples fucking skulls with his huge hands too #he would leave to follow me around like a huge weird creep and if anyone tried to get him to stay he grabbed their head and crushed it #like. completely silent and nonchalant and still on his way out.enriuhgeruihgwg9prodgboirdhfg #anyway. it was cool i fucknig love that freak #and i also love my self insert a whole bunch. theyre also fucking weird #i wonder if i should make that eye stabbing when stressed thing an actual habit of theirs.....? #itd be cool and a fun parallel between sans' eye picking habit #but also the eyepatch is based off of my eyesight being garbage on my right eye #and at one point the eye doctor said i might have to get an eyepatch on my LEFT eye (the good one) so the bad one could get better #so if im realistic then my s/i would have one functioning eye thats covered by their eyepatch and then one shitty eye #but the eyepatch is also bloody. maybe i should just let myself be edgy and say the doctors removed their eye or something LOL #aaarghhh. i love horrortale so much. fuck

[navibluebees]

quaritch/Lyle with his cubby y/n female and yes since you made one for z-dog why not do one for quaritch/Lyle because I gotta know what they would do been thinking hard about it for a long time stay safe now!

Quaritch with his Chubby Human Female SO

Please read before interacting.

If he would just PLEASE look at me once, thanks. You stay safe, too! Be so safe. Idk if you know that sound from TikTok, but that's what your message makes me think of haha~ Also this kinda turned into a bit longer thing & Lyle will be on his way soon!

okay, bear with me, but I think this man would have some outdated views of women initially, but when he saw how powerful you were in the gym, his brain was rewired.

As he watched you, he saw how bright you were around other people and wanted some of that light toward him.

Sunflowers started appearing at your desk, your coworkers eyeing you with curiosity at the new addition to your days. Eventually your desk became surrounded with sunflowers and you went in early to catch the culprit. You heard the door open and hid behind a cabinet, peeking out to see who was there. You were not expecting to see a giant blue kitty man tiptoeing toward your desk.

You stepped out and he hissed, tail flicking wildly as he knocked the pens off of your desk. His ears flattened as he tried to school his expression, hid the flower behind his back and knelt down to pick up your pens. His huge fingers could barely pinch them so you crouched beside him, picking them back up.

You caught his wrist in your hand. "Why are you bringing me flowers? I saw how you looked at me when you first saw me in the gym."

"I know.. I" *clears throat awkwardly* "I misjudged you. I'm sorry."

You scoffed. "Most people do." You had stood up and started to turn away when he reached for your shoulder. "Sorry about the flowers. I'll stop bringing them."

You lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. "You better not. See you later?"

Frazzled, he turned around and left the room, unsure what had just happened.

After that, he showed up every day with a flower. Literally any kind. The greenhouse had started running low on sunflowers so he went to where they had been planted and talked to them bc he heard somewhere that talking to plants made them grow faster

He would always make sure to be there so you'd see him.

Boy is smitten <3

You go to the gym together and he loves to spot for you, eyeing you hungrily but shaking himself out of the thoughts, one day you'd gotten tired of his intense glances and sat up, cocking an eyebrow at him. "You gonna kiss me or what, Colonel?"

His ears would perk up, tail caressing your arm as he moves closer, holding your chin in his hand and grazing his fangs across your lower lip

Inseperablleeeee when you guys have time to be together

Loves getting to see a new side of you when you're curled up against him in comfy clothes, just talking or watching whatever movies are playing on the Bridgehead channels

Starts bringing a snack with the flowers & keeps a little stash for you in his desk

Obsessed with your tummy. Loves how soft you are but also your strength, physically and your personality.

I just believe this man is fully gone for a soft & strong woman. He hates being vulnerable but when he sees it from you, it shows him that it's okay to be both

A little jealous when he got to the gym late and saw Prager helping you. He cut out his growling when he saw you cut your eyes over to glare at him. He sat in the corner sulking a bit while he did bicep curls

NSFW Below

Likes to go to the gym late at night and spread you out on the weight bench after you've done your workout, sweat all over your body. His tongue dances along your skin, unable to get enough of your taste.

Pops your legs over his shoulders and dives into your pussy, groaning when you grab at his ears, tugging lightly on them.

Pressing his face into your thigh, biting however hard you want.

When he saw you standing up for a coworker to your boss, his whole body was overcome with shivers and he melted, eyes softening toward you. He pulled you into his office after that, setting you on his desk and leaning you back across it as he yanked your skirt up, tearing your underwear, thrusting into you, eyes glazed over as the feeling of you around him was so overwhelming

Loves the time after the movies you watch. You'll always end up kissing and sometimes more. He loves stretching you out with his fingers, watching you under him and how full and heavy your breasts are, bouncing with his movements

Of course, showers after the gym - Will wash your body and press you against the wall, kissing on your neck as his fingers dance between your legs and squeeze your ass, massaging your sore muscles all over

***

Taglist:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

#miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #avatar the way of water

[gustingirl]

the words pt.1 | s.kiszka x reader

"And I know the scariest part is letting go, 'Cause love is a ghost you can't control"

- in which you live a different kind of fairytale -

request: Could you possibly do one with prompt # 14, 48, and 51 with either josh or Sam??? If not that’s fine too :) it can be literally anything just make it heartbreaking and angsty.

part 1: [x]

part 2: [x]

taglist: @starchords @the-chaotic-cow @obetrolncocktails @theweightofstardust @tlexx @eeeloraaa @kaylal15 @parodsal000 @golden-van-fleet @gretagolden @dreamsoffilm @thatcatbsong @stardustchorus @ageofflowerpower @blayze-it

There’s not one thing in this world that hurts more than watching as the person you love the most decides you’re not as important to them anymore. And that was your case, at this very exact moment.

How can you handle a relationship that has been going on for centuries? How can you keep that ship on float all by yourself? A relationship has always been a 50 and 50, right? It’s impossible to carry it on your own. But you were willing to do it, you really were willing to do it for Sam.

How could you not, anyways? He was the love of your life after all. He had always been the man you were in love with, deeply, truly in love with. Sam was all you had ever asked for, all you have ever wanted.

And imagine this: you met by complete, pure destiny. Can a single human soul truly detach itself from the person Fate has chosen for them?

It all started with a broken bass.

“What was that noise?” Jake asked as soon as the music shut down. All the instruments being played had stopped simultaneously upon the sound of something breaking down

“I thought it was…Sam” Josh commented while looking around.

And it was true. Sam was confused as he took a look at his bass that was not making one correct sound anymore. Any chord he tried playing would sound completely wrong and yet he was clueless at the origin of the issue.

Without waiting long, the band’ bassist began a tiring tour around Nashville trying to find a music store that could fix the issue upon him. A very important concert was approaching and yet nobody seemed to know what the bass had.

“What do you mean you can’t fix it?” was Sam’s repeated answer to every single music store employee in front of him

The incognita was only bothering Sam with each second passed, and it was thanks to Danny remembering one more store near the area that Sam didn’t give up completely.

“Hello” he greeted politely as he approached the cashier “I have a problem that nobody seems to be able to fix and I’m only growing more desperate”

“Sure, let me call the expert” the cashier announced as he grabbed a walkie-talkie “Thing three, come to the front”

Sam’s eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Thing three?”

“Yeah” the red haired cashier pointed at the neon sign above the entrance that read the words ‘The Things’ in bright red “We are the music things. I’m thing number one, cashier. Thing number two is the instrument expert, she sells them all. Thing number three is our luthier, thing number four has the customer service skills to deal with the younger buyers and thing number five is just around for whatever we need”

Sam’s curiosity was off the roof. He had never noticed the existence of this place and, despite having visited plenty of other shops, this one just had a different atmosphere that felt warmer than any other place he had ever seen.

And then you showed up.

He thought he was dreaming when his eyes landed on your figure. You were making your way towards the front desk, wearing a tight, tank top black dress and carrying some weird glasses on your head. You seemed distracted, yet your smile was blinding. He knew then his heart had made a decision.

Sam watched as you took something from a little package you were carrying, and placed that brown something in your coworker’s mouth the moment you walked by her. Once you were standing in front of Sam on the other side of the counter, your eyes met his.

And you too knew then that you had found what your heart had been searching for. Sam was all you have ever looked for in a person; he was what music has always been about.

“Pocky?” you asked suddenly, bringing the man back to Earth

“Sam” he presented himself, unsure of what you were talking about. The little laughter you replied with made the bassist lose sanity even more

“No, I mean, do you want Pocky?” you asked, now retreating another something from that package

“I don’t know what that is” Sam was a giggling mess as he had no idea how to talk to you without feeling nervousness taking over his body and voice

“Try it”

You approached the little candy (or at least that’s what Sam thought it was) to his mouth. He only dared to take one bite and that was enough for you. As you watched him eat your candy, you finished the little stick by yourself. Your smile grew as so did his.

“It’s a cookie? With chocolate?”

“Yeah!” you giggled before continuing “It’s a japanese snack, it’s a cookie in a thin shape bathed in chocolate. It’s my favorite”

There was a cute, small silence in between you two after you finished speaking. Like Sam was trying to absorb every single thing about you and your essence, and you were allowing yourself to fall for a customer, something you had promised yourself never to do.

“It’s really delicious” he finally answered after a while

“Oh, your bass! Please, what is it?” you suddenly changed the topic as you felt your cheeks glow red.

“Right, my bass. Well, it made a weird noise and then it never worked well again. I don’t know what it is but nobody seems to know how to fix it”

The desperation in Sam’s voice was truly heartbreaking. You could feel the attachment he had with the instrument and music in general, and so with a smile you answered.

“Three days”

“What?”

“In three days I have it fixed for you”

Sam’s small smile only lasted a few seconds.

“Three? I have a concert in two days, can’t you have it earlier?”

Truth was, you had a million other requests back in your lab (you hated the word ‘workshop’). In reality, you should have never given Sam priority over customers who appeared first. But if doing it gave you the chance of seeing Sam soon again, then you were willing to break the rules for once.

You managed to fix the impossible in the time given, though it took you a lot of sleep time. You arrived at Sam’s venue basically running down the streets with his bass in hand. The crowd outside the building made you realize this man was more famous than you had expected. You made it to the staff’s door within seconds.

“I need to see Sam” you announced, soon gaining a little push from the security man.

“No fans allowed, I’m sorry”

“I’m not a fan, sir. I have something for him” you were a bit disconcerted but you had your own attitude to fight back

“That’s what they all say” he replied with a smirk, before rolling his eyes and looking away.

“Alright, if you don’t want the band to perform, fine! Because I don’t know what they will be able to do without Sam’s bass”

When you raised the instrument in the air, several gasps were released from behind you. Apparently, the bassist’s instrument was pretty iconic and fans recognized it quickly. This new support made the rough security guard sigh before allowing you in.

You rushed like you had never done it before towards the room the man had indicated Sam was at. And, as expected, you found the tall long haired boy walking around nervous without an instrument in hand.

“Sam!” you cried as soon as you stepped inside the room, agitated like you had run across the country

“Thing three!” he called out, frustration leaving his body and confusion taking over everybody else’s.

“Did he call her thing three?” Josh whispered to Jake who, obviously, was as baffled as his twin brother

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get it any time sooner. But you said 9pm was fine” you tried speaking in between breaths.

“It’s 8:58, you’re fucking amazing” the bassist spoke with excitement as he took the instrument in his hand and tried it out. The sound it made was like music to his ears “It’s perfect!”

You smiled with joy as you rested your hands on your knees, allowing your body to finally relax. When you tried getting up, your body got caught suddenly. Sam’s hug was the tightest you had ever had before, and it soon became a vice for you. You hugged back instantly, feeling his body relax within your arms.

“Thank you so much, my angel”

The pet name felt like something was elevating you in the air. Your body was shaking from the emotions he was giving you, but then he pulled away when he heard Danny speak.

“Guys, we can’t wait anymore, let’s go!”

As the members began abandoning the room, you had to stop Sam.

“Sorry! I need the payment!” you asked

“Wait here! I’ll give you everything after the show”

The last words were yelled by the bassist as he was almost climbing the stage. You sighed loudly, feeling the tiredness from sleepless nights and a long run taking over your body. Upon the sight of a long, comfortable couch you couldn’t help but lie down. Your body was thankful as you did, and soon your eyes were closed and your mind was blank while sleep began possessing you.

By the time you woke up, the room was soon crowded again. It wasn’t a loud noise or chattering what made you open your eyes; it was the feeling of a hand stroking your hair.

You opened your eyes and instantly looked up. Those two brown eyes that had made you lose control back in the store were staring back at you in the most loving way possible. His soft smile was once more decorating his face, so contagious like before that you could only smile wider.

“Good morning, my angel” he joked softly, his voice low so only you could hear

“That pet name again” you replied as you scrubbed your eyes

“It’s because you truly are my guardian angel”

It was the way this man would speak his words that made your entire body feel them. His voice was really like pure honey and you could only wonder how you had never heard him talk before. Sam was the true medicine you were needing.

“All I did was repair your instrument” you sat back, tiredness still present in your body

“No, you saved my night. You saved my career, well really my life” he truly sounded grateful, sincere. You couldn’t believe how easily he was making you fall for him

“There’s a way of thanking me, you know?” you hated being so persistent but you couldn’t let it slip; your work had to be paid for.

“About that…..how much is it?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow. His hands went soon to your hair once more, this time playing with a hair strand hanging by your face. He made it twirl with his finger, his eyes fixated on the movement.

“120 dollars” you replied, and you waited for him to reply after a little pause

“You know…that’s how much a dinner for two is worth near the venue. Do you think I can use that payment mode?” his smile was now shaped into the sexiest smirk you had ever seen

“I don’t think my store uses that payment mode, really” you tried fighting back the urge but there was not much you could as his eyes abandoned your hair to then look back at you, directly into your eyes

“Is there any chance you could make an exception? For me?”

And for him you did it. And you made several other exceptions. You allowed more dates to happen, you allowed him to have your personal phone number, you allowed him to openly flirt with you. The only thing this man did not have was your name. And he realized this one random afternoon, when his brothers pointed out how he never mentioned your name. The sudden curiosity hit him so hard he had to make a visit at your store.

Sam was the only one who had the password to your lab. You had taken the store’s basement to turn it into your workshop. But many accidents led to customers walking in, sometimes on purpose though. It was your own safe place and the idea of strangers violating your privacy made you feel uncomfortable. Therefore you had installed a security system that required a password to enter the place, and Sam was the only one who had it (except for your coworkers, obviously).

You knew by then who he was by only the sound of his steps down the stairs.

“Sammy?” you called his name, though your back was facing him

“You really can tell it’s me by my steps” it was more of a statement, as Sam still found it amusing.

You didn’t reply as you were completely concentrating on the broken piano in front of you. Fixing it was taking you longer than expected and you were very frustrated by then. But the sudden warmth you felt behind your back brought you back to the real world for a moment. Two arms hugged your torso and a chin rested on your shoulder. The new body sat behind you on the piano’s seat and held you close to it. You smiled at his presence, his soul connecting with yours instantly.

“Your visit is a gift” you commented, feeling your body shake as he giggled at you

“Your existence is a gift for me”

It was completely surprising how he never said the same thing twice. You imagined by now that he would compliment you like a normal lover would, like a normal person would. But he was a box full of surprises and you were excited to open it every day.

“Why thing number three?” Sam suddenly questioned as your hands went back to work

“I like the number”

“No, I mean why things? Why not people?”

His question made you once stop working. Your body had gotten far from him so you could continue working but now you pushed it back once more, letting your body rest against his chest. His chin had abandoned your shoulder so his face would be close to your ear now. You could feel his breath bathing your neck as his hands stroked your stomach over your shirt in the softest way possible.

“It allows us to maintain distance with customers. It breaks any possible attachment. It’s also fun and different” your hands joined his, though yours were caressing the skin of his hands

“I don’t think there’s much distance between us” he half joked, making you giggle

“I don’t want there to be any distance between us, really” you confessed, your eyes stuck on the piano as you allowed your truth to be released

“Then may I know your name, my angel?”

You took a deep breath, knowing the importance the step you were about to take had.

“Y/N. My name’s Y/N”

You could feel his charming smile against your cheek, just before he placed on that same spot the most tender kiss ever.

“My angel has a name, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard”

You could feel yourself wanting to cry at just the simplest words he had ever said. You closed your eyes, letting your mind, heart and soul take into the beautiful moment you were living.

“I should be working, Sammy” there was a lot of truth in your words, though you mostly wanted a break. It was so overwhelming you had no idea how to deal with so much love

“Your job’s done, angel” he replied into your ear, that honey his voice had now traveled through your body, making your skin be painted in goosebumps.

“This piano is not done”

“Let me see that”

And then Sam took your hands in his and the world stopped spinning. And then he brought both of your hands to the piano tiles and your breathing stopped. And then your fingers played the most beautiful melody along with his and your heart had an epiphany.

You had fallen in love.

The feeling was so surreal you believed this was truly a dream. His breathing against your neck, his hands holding yours with so much dearness, his body embracing yours. It was all too much to take. His eyes found yours and the distance was so short that you felt your soul fighting for its life and sanity.

“Don’t make me kiss you” you spoke in the lowest whisper you had ever released

“Then I’ll do it”

The moment was sealed with the most perfect kiss ever. The soft skin of his lips burned your soul and the feeling was too delicious, too satisfying. You could never get enough of this, you knew it then. His hand left the piano to hold your face with nothing but pure tenderness, his thumb tracing little circles over your cheek. His other hand lied on your thigh, his nails sometimes scratching over your pants as he seemed to want more. Your hands were fighting for their lives, working their way to bring him closer to you. And when his tongue asked for permission, you knew it was over for you. There was no point of return after allowing him in, as you hadn’t only allowed his tongue to enter your mouth; you had allowed him to enter your heart.

Your most sacred piece of you now had an owner and you were aware of it. A spell had been casted on you and this man was now all you cared about, all you lived for; he was all you loved and wanted for the rest of your life.

So tell me, how can you live your life knowing the man you had promised to only love didn’t want you around anymore?

The Sam you were crazy for, the Sam you wanted to have by your side was not the one you woke up next to every day. And he hadn’t been that Sam in a long time.

You could have never guessed his future back then. That venue you met was small, insignificant for a big artist. But he wasn’t a big artist then like he was now. And you weren’t his own concern anymore. There were fans he worried about, money he wanted every day more, fame that had consumed every bit of his innocence. You were no longer holding in your arms a dreamer with a goal and a bass. Your lover was now a man with more than one road in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t take it.

The feeling of losing someone you treasure so much can truly kill someone. You were sure of it by now, as you felt your heart beating slower every day passing. How can you smile when your touch is rejected by the man that could bring goosebumps to your skin with only the mention of a pet name? How can you live when your lover doesn’t call you by anything but your name? How do you continue by your man’s side when he doesn’t want you there anymore?

So many questions had formed inside your head as you now were facing Sam once more, the fifth fight of the week.

“Please, Y/N, leave!” he asked one more time, rage controlling his heart once more

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me!” you cried back, your tears ruining your makeup once more, yet he was unfazed

“I don’t have anything to say to you. Leave me alone” his voice was lower by the end of the sentence, and yet you heard him loud and clear

“Don’t you trust me anymore, my love? I’m your angel, the one who saved your life. I know I can do it again” you were hanging from a thread but you were willing to fight

“I don’t think you can save me anymore. I don���t think you ever did”

Sam was aware of how he was hurting you, but nothing inside of him would allow him to stop.

“You don’t believe that” you were in pure denial, though deep down you knew he was right

“I’m better off without you”

A shot straight into your heart, caused by nothing but a lie. Sam knew the truth; you were the one better off without him. But his pride was strong, his ego even stronger, and his inability to express himself was much stronger than anything else.

“No” was all you could say, your heart aching too much that your brain couldn’t work anymore

“Leave”

His eyes were not even looking at you anymore, yet yours were stuck on his body. So many years of spells on you, so many years of promises and love confessions, so many years of songs and poems dedicated to you. Yet he was never sincere. He was never open to you, you knew it. You had been told, even by himself, just how hard it was for Sam to let someone in. His own brothers couldn’t get through him completely. What even made you believe you could ever do it?

“You can’t keep doing this”

“What am I doi-”

“SHUTTING ME OUT!”

You knew yelling was not gonna make him open up more. You believed then there was a history to this, as Sam would only shut himself out more whenever a voice was raised. But there wasn’t much you could control of yourself anymore. You once had said Sam was the only one capable of making you lose control and you were confirming your own statement right there.

“I’m not shutting you out. I never let you in”

What was going on with him? Was he gaining some excitement over breaking your heart?

There were answers to your questions that only lived sealed inside Sam’s mind. And his answers were pretty clear: he loved you so much he was afraid of doing so. There was so much he wanted with you and he feared he couldn’t give them to you. The love you two had for each other was as overwhelming for him as it was for you. But you could handle it; this was medicine for your broken soul. It was all Sam had ever wanted, but he couldn’t let you in. If it was hurting you now, later it would only kill you. Sam knew, he really did know he couldn’t love you now.

But why not communicate it as he should? He had always been so good with words when it came to you, what was going on now? Why couldn’t he say that to you?

“You never let me in, you’re right” you had no idea how you could still talk, the knot in your throat was taking every single breath you tried having “You had me standing at the door, waiting for you everyday. And I waited with happiness, Sam. I wanted to do it. I loved waiting for you, and I will always wait for you. But you know what? I’m human. You called me an angel for so long that you made me forget I am made of flesh. I am not a celestial being that flies around, helping others. I am a human being that fell in love with another human being. And my heart can only take enough. I worked hard, I really did work hard to love you. I’ve never loved anyone before and yet I was willing to do it once and for all, only for you. And you casted spells you couldn’t control and now I’m hurting because of you. The same man that made me lose myself, that made me forget about myself is kicking me out of his life because he can’t open a single door. One door is all I’m asking you. Is that really too much to ask? After everything that happened, am I really asking for too much?”

Not even with his entire strength could Sam find the words to respond. His stare was nailed to the floor, his hand resting on the amp decorating the studio. You were in disbelief as he, for the first time since you two met, was speechless.

“Fine. Just let me ask you one more thing, ok?” you inhaled all the buggers and tears you could so you were aware of talking one more time, in the calmest tone ever “Because if I walk away, if I cross this room’s entrance, I am never coming back, Sam. You know I am a person of words, and you are the very first witness of how I keep my promises. So, let me ask you this last thing. Do you want me to leave?”

At best, you would get an actual answer. Such a thing could be as good as a ‘No, never leave my side’ or as hurtful as a ‘Yes, never come back’. But at least you would have a word to give closure to your already broken heart. At worst, and not as surprising, you would get a painful, piercing silence. Either way, you would survive.

But all Sam did was stare right into your eyes. Your vision was so blurry due to your everlasting crying, yet his eyes were drier than ever. The way his eyes were perforating your soul was not even as painful as his expression was. It was the lack of it that truly made your heart break into hundreds of millions of pieces.

The one man that had owned your heart for years, that made you unacknowledge yourself for the sake of love was staring right into your soul. Words or silence even would hurt less. But he was speaking with stares. He was speaking with his two eyes and he was saying more than any mouth could ever say.

You bit your lip, the need to break down starting to grow speedily inside your soul. Before he could see it, you turned around, with only determination in your mind.

You were never going to come back to Sam.

thanks for requesting! also thanks for reading, guys, ily &lt;3

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet ships #greta van fleet edit #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka angst #greta van fleet angst

[blackkatmagic]

Mace (undercover as stripper) gives Slick a lapdance. Slick is too shell-shocked that the high general is apparently working as a stripper and Mace is far too amused

“Recruited by the kriffing Jedi and all I get is watered down drinks and a heart attack,” Slick snarls, hauling off the hat that looks like it was stolen from Cad Bane and flinging it across the room with more force than is probably strictly necessary. It’s not a bad hat. It’s actually kind of dashing. But he needs to throw something, and somehow he doubts the kriffing Jedi will be amenable.

Also, that would require looking at said Jedi, and Slick’s already losing his mind.

“It was a decent opportunity to establish a connection,” Mace karking Windu says, following Slick into the tiny, rented room. He’s shedding glitter everywhere, not that he seems to notice, and Slick is not noticing either.

“I wanted to call your bluff!” Slick snarls, rounding on him, and—well. There goes the not looking. Once he starts, he can't stop. “You didn’t have to accept the challenge!”

Mace raises one precise brow, like he’s not wearing about six square inches of cloth and plentiful smears of glitter and nothing else. Slick wants to punch him in the face. Or maybe throw him down on the floor and see if he can't get the most maddening Jedi he’s ever met to finally crack his composure.

“I thought it was a clever undercover move to make sure our story holds up to scrutiny,” Mace says, and Slick is not thinking about the moment Mace slid into his lap, all smooth dark skin and dangerous muscle and depthless eyes, hot even in the stifling closeness of the club. The club had rules against grabbing, but if it hadn’t, if Slick had been willing to risk his freedom as an undercover agent for one second of pure pleasure—

He almost was. Almost is. There are smears of hot pink glitter across Mace's shoulders, gold and purple around his eyes. He’s the prettiest kriffing thing Slick has seen in his whole damned life, and Slick wants.

“Should leave the Temple and start stripping full-time,” he says spitefully, like he’s a normal, functional Human and able to pull his eyes away from the gold dusted across Mace's ribs, exactly where Slick could put his hands. Could put his hands, and pull, and try that lapdance again, but this time with Slick a full participant and entirely focused on making Mace as out of control as possible. “It’d be a net gain for the galaxy.”

Mace snorts, though he doesn’t look offended. “If I thought I could do more good as a stripper than a Jedi, I would already have left the Order,” he says, because of kriffing course he does. He’s the one who got Slick out. He’s the one who’s been trying to get Boba out, even though Boba killed his men, tried to kill him. Did kill his commander, however indirectly, and Slick has seen Mace mourning Ponds.

Slick just wants to hate him in peace. Wants to hate himselfin peace. He doesn’t need some noble twice-damned Jedi trying to helphim. Doesn’t want to know, bone-deep, that when Mace says he means to help as many people as possible, he means it.

“Good thing Neyo wasn’t there,” he says, derisive, because it’s hard to forget the way Mace's new commander pulled Slick aside and right into one of the most terrifying conversations of his life, and Slick used to talk to Ventress. Neyo seems to have some pretty set ideas about his general’s dignity and grace and poise, and—

Well. Tonight might have made Neyo's head explode, but it wouldn’t have contradicted any of those ideas. Mace makes being a stripper look like the most dignified profession in the galaxy. Kriff, that’s half the appeal.

Mace's sound of amusement as he gets himself a bottle of water is almost enough to make Slick glance over, but—Slick’s sanity is hanging by a thread as it is. Watching Mace bend over won't help. “Neyo doesn’t take to undercover work as well as you,” he says, and with literally any other sentient, Slick might think it was a dig at his past as a traitor, but not with Mace. They had that argument already, and Slick is…convinced. Against his will, but all the more so for that fact.

“Guess not,” Slick says, a little raggedly, and pointedly turns towards the bedroom. One bed. Of course. But he knew that already. This is supposed to look like him taking a stripper home for a night of fun, not like one undercover operative meeting another.

Slick closes his eyes and counts to twenty. He’s not thinking about making their cover a reality. He’s not. And even if he were, every clone who feels attraction beats off to Mace Windu at some point in their lives. Slick did, back when he was young and stupid. Stupider.

“I assume,” Mace says from about six inches behind him, almost startling Slick out of his skin and his fantasies in equal measure, “that it will increase your credibility if your coworkers find glitter on you in the morning.”

Slick knows exactly how to get that glitter on him. He could pin Mace down and—

“Yeah,” he says, and turns. Grabs Mace by the shoulder, shoving him back and right up against the wall, and holds his gaze like a challenge as he slowly, deliberately drags a hand down Mace's chest, right through the glitter there. It’s easy, right now, to ignore the way his lastchallenge ended. “Probably would. Got any ideas for sharing?”

Mace just raises that brow at him again, perfectly steady, perfectly unwavering. “I’ll admit,” he says. “I did. But you seem to have plenty, and they're very clear.”

Slick flushes cold, then hot. “Karking empaths,” he says viciously and slams his mouth to Mace's with lots of force and little finesse.

If Mace minds it at all, Slick can't tell from the way he kisses back.

[On AO3]

#drunk drabble fills #my writing #slickmace #sergeant slick #mace windu #star wars

[chibiwritesstuff]

Hey! I'm the one that asked for the Lilia and Malleus ask. I love what you wrote so much man! (My poor heart died 😂) I am a big sucker for happy endings tho. So when you get the time can I ask for a happy ending ?

Ha, my laptop thought they won against me but I came out victorious (even though I took literal months to publish this.) In my defense, all the versions I’ve written for this didn't suit my tastes (not that this is any good either.) Hope this makes justice for such a long wait. Here’s the sequel/good ending for the angst fic.

Now, let’s enter this twisted wonderland~

Walking past the now dying garden that used to flourish in Ramshackle dorm, he sighed as he reminisces about the times you two stroll and spends time together. It's been years since you’ve left NRC, He and Lilia are about to graduate tomorrow, Silver will be a fourth-year student and the new vice-dorm leader while Sebek will be in his third year and the dorm leader much to the said fae’s surprise. He chuckled at the memory of how honored and tearful the young fae is upon being selected as its prefect.

“I have so much to tell you, (y/n).” He whispered at the wind.

“Hey, Tsunotarou!” The familiar voice of the tanuki cat being called that long-forgotten name.

“Hey, Tsunotarou! Are we going on a walk again tonight?” You smiled at him, your hand extended as an invitation.

“Grimm, wasn’t it?” He crouched down to pet the said creature.

“Hey! I’m not a pet!” The flames on his ears flared, responding to his emotions. “What are you doing here, anyway? The roses are all dead.”

A wave of sadness flashed in his eyes as another memory resurfaced. Returning his gaze towards the dead flowerbed, he let the memory linger.

“Thanks for the seeds, Tsunotarou!” You excitedly began digging and planting said seeds. “To commemorate our friendship, these roses will be our friendship roses!”

“Yes, they are…” His hand ceased from moving before sitting down the ground. “It’s all gone…”

“By the way, I never managed to get the courage to ask you but why did (y/n) went back home crying that time?”

“I was but a foolish man…” The young heir steered his gaze towards the night sky before closing his eyes. “Had I just enjoyed the present than worry about the future, perhaps they would still be here and smile brightly like they always had.”

“I’m sure if you say sorry, they’ll forgive you.” Grimm responded nonchalantly. “They said saying sorry is the first step to forgiveness… or something like that.”

He chuckled and stood up heading towards his dorm. “If things were only that easy…”

That night, he slept and dreamt about you two walking in the bed of roses you’ve grown at Ramshackle. Loving every single moment that you two get to spend subconsciously knowing that once he wakes up, he’ll return to the harsh reality of you not being by his side.

“Tsunotaro, I think I have fallen for you.” You quietly said warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Will you let me stay by your side till the last breath I take?”

This is all but a dream… so I can keep dreaming, right?

“Yes, only if you’ll let me do the same.”

“Really?!” Joy showed throughout your being which made him smile back. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow! Happy graduation!”

He woke up gasping for air. That dream sounded too good to be true and yet… he can’t help but be hopeful. Putting on a happy face, he got dressed on what Lilia laid out for him and this time, everybody remembered to tell him the time of the celebration. He can’t help but laugh just thinking what your reaction would have been about the changes of the students' behavior towards him after he tried to socialize better. Heading towards the stage getting his diploma as odd as it is, he acted formally as he mingled with the rest of the dorm leaders until a voice echoed throughout the area.

“Tsunotarou!” Receiving a hug from the back as the voice caught him off guard, he turned still not believing what he’s seeing. “Congrats on graduating!”

“(y/n)?” His voice faltered, overwhelmed with so many emotions. “How? Why? I –”

“Uh-oh… Lilia! Your king here is having an information overload!” You called which made the said fae laugh out loud.

“How are you here?” He finally managed to ask. “The mirror –”

“Ah, that would be my doing…” Idia whispered but managed to catch everyone’s attention. “It was an accident! I was messing around to make a teleporter so I can just teleport to the store than having to leave the dorm but it ended up making people travel through dreams then I managed to talk to (y/n). Then we both decided we might as well try to make travel here and back to their world possible.”

“Looks like you did meet me once upon a dream, yeah?” You grinned at the joke about his ancestor’s song.

He merely hugged you, savoring each second of being around your arms. “I don’t have anything ready but if you’ll give me a second chance…”

He lets go and kneeled on one knee before looking up to you once more. “Will you be my spouse till the day you draw your last breath?”

Time is but a blink of an eye for fae and before he knew it, the Star Sending is happening once again. He was happy when Silver and Sebek were chosen to be Star Gazers albeit the mentioned students aren’t. He strummed his electric guitar with no particular music in mind as he lets his mind wander until his gaze dropped on a familiar mug.

“Happy Birthday, Lilia!” You grinned as you handed him a mug that said “No. 1 Gamer Dad” on it. “Hope you like it!”

His lips curled into a faint smile as he remembered that day. It's been a year since you left and yet it felt like it was just yesterday. Letting go of the instrument, he walked towards the mug and lifted it intending to fill it with tomato juice.

“How have you been, little one?” He spoke towards the image of you in his head. “I hope life is treating you better in your world.”

Without me in it… he sighed as sadness filled his chest. If I could change the past, or at least be given another chance… will you give your love to me once more?

“Old m –” Silver cleared his throat before entering. “I mean, Lilia. I’m here to take your wish.”

He took a deep breath before putting a huge smile to face his son. “Ah, yes of course! You know my wish. I wish for both –”

“Stop.”

This surprised the old fae as his son never raised his voice on him. “We both know that that’s not your true wish.”

“Silver, do humor me and just let me finish my wish.” He pouted, swirling the tomato juice in the mug before drinking it.

“Father, we all know how much you love them.” The young knight sighed before taking a seat on a nearby chair. “You always gush about them whenever we eat or do anything.”

“Oh Silver, I appreciate the concern but sometimes you got to let go.” A forlorn smile graced his lips.

“And sometimes you have to be selfish!” Both of them looked surprised at his outburst yet Silver regained his composure and continued. “You love them, right?! Then why not be with them? You took me in out of love, right?”

“There’s a big difference here, Silver.” Lilia rubbed his temple as stress starts to build up.

“What’s the difference? We’re both humans with a short lifespan so you can't use that as an excuse!” His silver eyes narrowing as he gazed upon his father before widening. “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”

He let out a defeated chuckle before nodding. “You’ve grown so much, Silver. I’m so proud of you, you know?”

“Why? You could have been happily living with them.”

“Because I’m afraid to witness her death if we ever do start a family together.” At last, the older fae began letting his tears fall in front of his son. “I don’t think I’ll be able to survive seeing her pass while I still live on. I want it to last for all eternity but to remove her mortality is too inhumane.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Silver lowered his head, having a little understanding of what he meant. “I didn’t mean to –”

“So, for my wish this Star Sending…” After a pathetic attempt to control his tears, he gulped and continued. “I want to be given another chance to be with them… and this time, I’ll bear the pain of losing them when the time comes.”

A shine of light filled the wishing star confirmed his wish inside the item. Silver walked towards him and let the man cry his heart out in his arms. He both felt sad and honored that Lilia is willing to cry in front of him. He truly hopes that his father’s wish is granted. Bringing out the wishing star, he proclaimed his wish.

“I wish (y/n) can return in twisted wonderland once more.”

“Silver, you didn’t have to waste your wish for this…”

“I don’t mind having a parent like them.” He smiled before heading towards the door with both wishing stars at hand. “They’re a much better cook than you anyway.”

“Hey!”

The day of Star Sending has arrived and everybody is once again by the huge tree behind NRC. It went well without a hitch and Lilia’s phone filled with recordings of Sebek and Silver dancing in perfect sync towards the taiko being played by Jack of Savanaclaw. As all students began returning to their dorms, the bat fae decided to stay a little longer and was given privacy by the rest of the Diasomnia students.

“Catch me, Lilia!” A voice screamed from above.

Turning his attention to the voice’s origin. His eyes widened before extending his arms ready to catch the person. A huge smile on his face as you landed safely into his arms. You let out a sigh of relief as you steadied yourself in his hold.

“Do not question why I was up in the air.” You huffed, glaring at the sky. “Safe landing my ass! I was dropped off 50ft up in the air!”

“My oh my, did you fall in love with me all over again?” He teased as he covertly wiped his tears.

“I saw that and maybe but I would still prefer a much safer landing.” You huffed before smiling at him. “What happened to the ‘I wish for world peace between all creatures’ wish, huh?”

“How did you know?”

“My coworker and I were trying to make a portal to get me back here because I forgot some stuff here to grab and funnily enough those wishing stars became our fuel source to open that portal.” You pulled out your phone and confirmed your arrival with a whole long spiel on how the landing would have killed you if you weren’t caught by Lilia. “But by your wish I assume there’s no need for me to get packing away from here?”

“Yes, if you’ll give me another chance.” He held out his hand, a makeshift flower ring on his palm. “Will you give me the honor of being your significant other?”

#twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #lilia x reader #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus x reader #i'm alive #good ending #boi this took forever #dont expect this to be good though #I'm shit at writing #especially fluff/good ending ones

[writingtoforgetreality]

Speak Of The Devil (Malcolm Bright x Winchester!Reader) | Prodigal Son/Supernatural Crossover

[Prodigal Son-Masterlist], [Supernatural-Masterlist]

Summary: What started as a normal case for the NYPD ended in you needing help from your family. Malcolm had never met your brothers & they had no idea you were dating. Things were bound to get complicated, it was inevitable. Still, you had to focus on this case before another person got killed.

Words: 5,557

Warnings: spoilers for 2x02 (doesn’t follow the actual plot obviously), murder, demons, language, confused Malcolm, lil hint at Destiel (barely there, could be missed if you don’t pay attention - sorry, I couldn’t help myself), I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun while writing something

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The NYPD was assigned to solve a “creepy ass case”, as JT so lovingly put it. As Malcolm & you got to the crime scene, you understood what your fellow coworker had warned you about. Ugh, you hated churches with your guts. Well, that was not entirely true. But whenever a murder happened on a holy ground, nothing good ever came out of it. That was what you experienced before you started working for the police. Before that…you also worked for the police somehow? Just, they were not aware of that & you might have done some criminal things. For the greater good, though! Your brothers & you had saved thousands of people. They still did. You just needed to get out of this life & see if there was more for you to achieve. And there was. Not only did you find a great family who was also your team, at the same time you found Malcolm, your boyfriend.

Back to the case. Walking into a crime scene had always been bizarre to you. It showed you how close you still were to murder, even though you promised your brothers to distance yourself from it entirely. Technically, you did. This was different, though. At least you told yourself so. Gil, JT, Dani & Edrisa were already inspecting the scene when you two walked in. Oh no. This could not be good. The image in front of you seemed familiar & if it were not inappropriate to roll your eyes at a dead person, you would do it. Gil briefly explained the situation to you. Apparently the victim had been a member of the church for 30 years. The Lieutenant & Malcolm interrogated Sister Agnes. She was the one who found the body. There was another thing bothering you, so you did not really pay attention to whatever she was saying. Your focus was solely on JT, who had been through way too much to stand here & act as if everything was fine. A slight touch on his shoulder made him turn his head in your direction.

“Hey, you okay?” of course you were concerned about him. He was family, after all.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he brushed you off as if he did not know what point you were trying to get across.

“Really? Because usually when Malcolm says he’s fine…well, he’s everything but.” a chuckle lightened the mood a little. You had to keep a closer eye on JT for the time being. Just in case.

“Our victim here performed an exorcism.” Malcolm’s statement let your eyes snap back to where he was standing. Edrisa smiled excitedly at him. This woman…She was the sweetest soul. Could be annoying, too. But in a sweet & loving way. Maybe she should turn down her excitement for murder. Who were you kidding? Your boyfriend was probably worse when it came to that. Wanting to have a closer look at the book Malcolm was referring to, you put your gloves on & carefully walked over to him. Trying not to mess up any possible clues left behind by the killer.

“Can I have a look?” you gestured to the small book & Malcolm handed it over to you. Shit. If you remembered correctly, there was a similar one back at the bunker. A look inside the pages confirmed your assumption. No need to freak out right away. There were tons of crazy people out there. Just because of this murder in this church & this book did not mean that there was anything supernatural involved. You just hoped it would stay that way. For everyone’s sake.

Your face fell when Edrisa said that there was a note left behind, written in blood. To the others, it looked like a sign without meaning. It looked familiar to you but you could not quite pinpoint where you remembered it from. Sister Agnes’ words made you stop in your tracks.

“Abaddon.” she breathed out. Sure, why the hell not? Okay, maybe this case was something for your brothers. But wait a damn minute…last time you checked, Abaddon was stabbed with the First Blade. She could not possibly be back, could she?

“Now we know our killer’s name.” Malcolm’s words gained the attention of the entire team. There was no way he had everything figured out already. You knew he was a great profiler but even that would have been too fast for him.

“Oh? Who is it?” Gil asked intrigued.

“You know.” Malcolm paused for a few moments. Probably for dramatic effect but what did you know? “The devil.” you could not help but laugh at his words. Great, now everyone was looking at you weirdly. Oh, he made a joke. Of course he did. Sometimes you forgot that you were not an active part of the hunting life anymore. A few coughs from you stopped the awkward tension in the room. At least a bit.

In no way did you want to defend Lucifer. He had made your life literal hell one too many times. But even he would not go as far & do something as cruel as this. Again, last time you checked, he was dead. But death did not agree with Lucifer. How many times had he died? You probably should not be the one to judge. You were not better by any means.

Excusing yourself to get some fresh air, you grabbed your phone out of your pocket. Hopefully he would pick up. It had been a while since you last talked. The phone rang & rang & slowly you lost hope. Maybe he really was mad at you for being radio silent for so long.

“(Y/N)?” his voice startled you slightly.

“Sam! Uh, hi.” suddenly you turned shy.

“It’s so good to hear from you! How are you?” he was happy that you decided to call after so long.

“I’m good, thanks. Actually, I need to ask you for a favor…” you started.

“What is it? Everything alright?” Sam was growing concerned. Back then, you hated relying on another person, too stubborn to ask for help, because you wanted to do everything on your own.

“There’s a case here in New York…I believe it’s your kind. And I genuinely don’t think I can deal with this on my own.”

“But you’re safe, right?”

“I am, as safe as one can be.” you chuckled. Working for the police & all that. Not that you would tell Sam on the phone. If they were to come by, he would find out sooner or later. “I’ll send you the details, alright? Be here as fast as you can.”

“Okay, no problem. Take care, okay?”

“You too. See you soon.” wow, you were about to see your brothers again. Hopefully everything would be fine & nobody would rip your head off.

“See you, (Y/N).” Sam ended the call & you let out a breath you did not know you were holding.

The phone call should stay a secret for the time being. People breaking out in panic was everything but convenient. Besides, you did not need your team looking at you like you were a lunatic. Malcolm explained possession trance disorder when you joined everyone again. How could one human being know so much about so many unimportant things? Like, this man was a human dictionary. Looking over at Gil, you had to grin by how hard he was trying to make sense of what Malcolm was saying. Gil noticed you staring at him & gave you a look. The one that made you not want to mess with him. Still, you laughed shortly, you could not keep it in any longer. Malcolm gave you a questioning look but you simply shrugged him off by a wave of your hand.

The last interrogation of the day was with the guy who was currently doing the painting job inside the church. Unfortunately, you did not get any more information. Everything he told you, you had already heard from the others. Basically, after interrogating everyone, you were certain that this was not a common case for the NYPD. And you were more than happy that your brothers were on their way to come over. How would you explain any of this to Malcolm? He knew you had two brothers but you had also told him that you were not necessarily talking, only when it came to emergencies. Great, Malcolm would freak out. Even more so than normal, probably.

“Why do we have to visit your father again?” you shot the question at Malcolm as you were walking over the psychiatric yard, looking for Martin. He rolled his eyes at you, exhausted by your constant questioning.

“I’ve explained it a thousand times, (Y/N).”

“Well, I don’t see how any of this is connected to him.” you argued. Whenever Malcolm had the great idea to visit his father, you tagged along. Simply because you knew it was always hard for him & you wanted to support him wherever you could. Right now, though, you were losing your patience. After all, you knew the cause of this case. But your brothers had yet to arrive so you should play along for now.

“Malcolm, my boy. (Y/N)! Always nice to see you.” Martin started, excited to see his son accompanied by you. The first time you visited Martin, he took an immediate liking to you. Probably because he could see that you were good for Malcolm & his son meant the world to him. Still, he was a narcissistic psychopath. Remembering clearly how he had told you that everyone had flaws during your first meeting. Ah, good times.

“I wish I could say the same, Dr. Whitly.” a sarcastic smile plastered on your face. From then on, you let Malcolm do the talking, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Your thoughts were with your brothers, hoping they would get their asses here quickly before you had to endure more of this bullshit. It was frustrating when you knew how to solve this case but there was nobody you could talk to, not about this. Malcolm desperately tried searching for a non-supernatural explanation. Of course he did. And you just stood by, not being helpful at all. Malcolm did notice your quietness but did not comment on it. Not when you were with his father. He would ask you later today, when you were back at home.

Sam sent you a message earlier today, asking for your address to meet up. This meant that they would not take much longer. The knock on the door was confirmation enough. Malcolm walked over, ready to open it & you did not have enough time to warn him. Oh, this was bound to be fun.

“Uh…Hello?” Malcolm, everyone. Great first impression.

“You’re not (Y/N).” you could make out Dean’s voice. Walking up to where Malcolm was standing in the doorway, you looked over his shoulder & smiled at your brothers. They really were here, it had been too long. Softly pushing Malcolm out of the way, you pulled both of them in a long overdue hug. It was only then when you realized how much you had missed them. Malcolm observed the interaction from afar, confusion obviously shown on his face. Right now, you could only focus on the men in front of you, though.

“It’s good to see you guys again.” smiling widely at them. Sam nodded at you & even Dean could not hide the small smile that was forming on his face.

“I’m sorry…Can I help you guys?” Malcolm spoke up, waiting for answers from either you or the strangers that now entered his apartment.

“No, but we’ll help you.” Dean walked over to Malcolm & patted his shoulder.

“Sam, Dean. This is Malcolm. Malcolm. These are my brothers.” you awkwardly introduced them to each other. Malcolm’s mouth hang open & he could not form a coherent sentence.

“Nice to meet you.” Sam held out his hand & it took Malcolm a second to shake it.

“Your brothers?” Malcolm whisper-yelled.

“Yeah?”

“And what are they doing here?” it was not his intention to sound rude, you knew that. Yet, he seemed rather frustrated because you clearly knew they were coming over but decided against telling your boyfriend.

“Remember when I told you that they had a similar job to ours?” Malcolm nodded at you. “This case we’re working on…that’s one of their kind. We wouldn’t be able to solve it without their help.” you tried explaining.

“We have the best working team out there! Of course we could’ve solved it alone!” but you simply shook your head at him. He would understand sooner or later.

Sam & Dean sat down on the expensive couch, Dean putting his feet on the coffee table. Good thing Malcolm did not care too much about his furniture. Malcolm & you brought drinks from the kitchen & sat across from them. Dean only eyed Malcolm, though. The inevitable was about to happen, you just hoped Malcolm would deliver accordingly.

“Who the hell are you?” he was judging Malcolm & neither Sam’s elbow nudging him nor your dirty look changed the way he looked at him. What could you say? Dean was very protective of you, even after ages of not talking.

“Malcolm Bright, profiler for the NYPD.” that made the brothers’ eyebrows raise. Thank God he did not let slip that he was the son of a serial killer.

“You’re working for the police?” Sam eyed Malcolm, now being confused as to why you would get them involved with the police even though you were aware of what they had been through.

“Well, yeah. I mean, (Y/N) & I met there.” Malcolm reasoned. Great, the cat was out of the bag now.

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Dean looked…disappointed?

“Okay, wait a minute. Let me explain!” Sam & Dean nodded at you to continue. “When I left you guys, I really tried to leave this life behind. I did. But I still wanted to help people. So…one thing came to another & then I was part of the NYPD &-“ you were interrupted by Dean, of course.

“And slept around with this guy?” Dean looked Malcolm over & you rolled your eyes at him. Malcolm looked offended but stayed silent.

“This guy is my boyfriend. And his name is Malcolm.” you defended him. “And I asked you to help me with this case, not with my dating life.” looking at Dean sternly, he nodded at you & apologized. He could get caught up in the heat of the moment but you had more important things to focus on.

Throughout your talk, Malcolm sent you questioning looks every now & then. You brushed him off, telling him you would explain it later. Sam & Dean got the message & tried keeping the talk casual. Clearly, your boyfriend did not know about the supernatural & it would be better if it stayed that way.

“Okay, so tomorrow, we’ll talk to Norman & see what we can find out.” Malcolm concluded after some long confusing hours.

“Sammy & I need some sleep after that long ass drive anyway. We’ll be meeting at his house first thing in the morning. Don’t be late.” when he said that, he stared at Malcolm. Rolling your eyes at his childish antics, you slapped him lightly on the chest.

“Do you wanna stay here for the night?” you asked when they were walking to the front door.

“Um, no. We’re checked in at the motel a few blocks down. Besides…” Dean gestured wildly with his hands. “This entire apartment looks too luxurious for us. How did you get so much money anyway?” Dean asked, again motioning at the expensive looking apartment.

“It’s actually Malcolm’s…I moved in not too long ago.” explaining to both of them. Sam nodded, looking satisfied with your current living situation. Dean, of course, had another thing to comment on.

“Oh wow, (Y/N)…Good catch.” winking at you, you shoved him out of the apartment, shaking your head.

“Good night!” you said before closing the door behind them, letting out a long sigh.

“Your brothers are…nice.” Malcolm started. You winced at his choice of words. In your head, it all worked out way better.

“I’m sorry, Mal…They can be quite protective.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it. They’re, uh, very into this religious thing, huh?”

“Oh, you have noooo idea.” you chuckled.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming by?”

“I don’t know…I guess I didn’t want you to think that you’re not good enough for this case.”

“But?”

“But I need you to trust me when I tell you that Sam & Dean are the ones who should handle this one.”

“I trust you, you know that, (Y/N). But you have to give me permission to say “I told you so.” when we solve this case without their help.” Malcolm held out his hand for you to shake.

“Deal.” you smiled at him. Your brothers & boyfriend might not become best friends but you did not expect them to. All you wanted was to get rid of whatever killed that priest. And you knew that the supernatural feared Sam & Dean. This would be over soon.

“You sure these are the same guys who were at our apartment yesterday?” Malcolm whispered to you when you were approaching two men in suits. Not their usual flannel attire, they were working a job after all.

“Just play along, alright?” Malcolm nodded at you. He promised to trust you on this & you seemed like you knew what you were doing.

“Detectives.” Dean greeted you.

“Shut up.” you threw back almost immediately. Sam & Dean laughed at your comment.

“I missed you, lil sis.” Dean said with a genuine tone, one that made you smile wildly.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Sam knocked on the door, waiting for it to open. They introduced themselves as FBI & showed the woman in the doorway their badges. Shooting Malcolm a look as if to say “Don’t ask.” & he just acted as if he had not seen this. The woman led you upstairs to a room. She warned you to not cross the salt lines. All of you nodded. Well, all but Malcolm. The poor man could not understand a thing. Sometimes you wished you were this innocent when it came to cases like this. If it were not for Malcolm, this would have felt like the good old days when you spent your time solving case after case with your brothers. Yeah, it had been dangerous & exhausting but you still liked being a hunter. Also, the three of you were one hell of a team.

The door opened & you were met with countless geometrical lines made out of salt. Because a simple circle would not do the job or what? Fucking show-off. Careful not to mess with the salt, the four of you stepped inside the dark room. Norman’s back was facing you. While Sam & Dean simply took in the room to check for any indicators of anything supernatural, Malcolm started interrogating Norman. You signaled the boys to let him do his job.

“The salt keeps him out.” suddenly, Norman’s voice was way deeper than when he first started talking. Weird guy. Still, you did not think it was him.

“Who?” Malcolm asked in a calm voice. He was good at this. Even though he almost always got himself killed.

“The demon.” Norman said. What the hell was wrong with him? Malcolm turned around to you & found the three of you rolling your eyes. Really desperate if a person wanted to be a demon.

“He’s clearly mentally ill.” Malcolm stated quietly.

“Oh, really?” you sarcastically shot back. Who would have thought? Malcolm started lifting one of his foot, meaning to cross the line.

“Mal, wait. Don’t.” you warned him but when did Malcolm ever listen? You were not sure how Norman even noticed Malcolm crossing the line, his back was still facing you after all, but all of a sudden things escalated. Apparently, Norman thought Malcolm was a demon. He was everything but, really. He just had some demons to fight but he was not one. Norman was grabbing a lamp, wanting to attack Malcolm with it but you got everything sorted before anything bad could happen. Norman was on his way in the hospital & you were just glad that everyone was fine.

When all of you were outside the house again, Sam & Dean looked annoyed.

“Dude, we wasted time with this madman.” Dean started. “That’s bullshit.”

“Dean, stop.” you cut him off before the situation got too intense. “He was the only suspect we had. We couldn’t have known he was mentally ill.”

“We should check out the church tonight.” Sam suggested.

“Why at night?” Malcolm asked curiously.

“Oh, look how precious he is.” Dean mocked. If he kept acting that way you might as well salt & burn his bones next. Turning to Malcolm, you tried reasoning with him.

“Because we can’t risk people watching us. Not when we’re doing this.” Malcolm understood but he also planned a lot of questions for when you were back home.

“Alright, we’ll meet there later. Dean & I will take care of everything we might need.” Sam said before walking off to Baby.

“I see you took great care of her.” nudging Dean, motioning at the beautiful ’67 Chevy Impala. Another thing you had missed dearly. Countless nights had been spent in the backseat, you associated this car with a lot of happy memories.

“Always.” Dean smiled at you. “Baby misses you, too, you know?”

“I’m sure she does. After all, I had the brains. Of course she misses my smartness.” Dean shook his head at you, rolling his eyes at the same time. Saying goodbye & turning around, Malcolm gave you a look.

“What?”

“Baby? Her? You sure you were talking about the car?” oh, that was bothering him. Now you understood.

“It’s a long story.” you laughed & gave him a kiss on the cheek before walking past him. He let out a short laugh & smiled at your actions.

“(Y/N)? I think we should talk.” Malcolm started shortly after you entered your shared apartment.

“Oh no…that’s never a good sign.”

“What’s going on here?” you could tell he was serious. Fuck, you hated lying to him. One of the reasons why you had barely mentioned your brothers was to avoid questions you did not want to answer. It was now or never. Telling Malcolm to sit down, you were about to start at the very beginning. There were still a few hours left before you had to be at the church, might as well use it appropriately. Hopefully, Malcolm did not decide to leave you after opening up to him.

“So…you’re telling me that monsters are real, your brothers hunt them down & you used to help them before you left.” you nodded when Malcolm tried processing what you had just told him. “And my girlfriend saved the world more than once.” he concluded.

“Pretty much, yeah.” he was silent for a few seconds. That would be the moment he would ask you to leave.

“My girlfriend is a badass.” Malcolm mumbled & started laughing then. You joined in.

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” you questioned, not really believing that he dealt with it so casually.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m freaking out.” he confessed. “You know, makes me think of all the cases we couldn’t solve. Maybe we weren’t successful because of…supernatural beings playing a part. But honestly, it’s just another thing that got added to my plate. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Mal…”

“No, really. I mean it. Besides, now I know that if I ever meet a monster, you’re here to fight it off. Or your brothers. If I were a monster, I’d be scared as shit of them.” Malcolm finished & you laughed, throwing your entire body back on the couch. That actually went quite well? At least something positive.

Churches were creepy in general. But churches at night? That was a whole other level of madness. You met Sam & Dean at the Impala, Dean’s face buried in the trunk, looking for suitable weapons. Malcolm had promised not to question your actions & you were thankful for it. Because you had other things to focus on. Dean handed out weapons which you gladly accepted.

“Mal? You gotta promise me to stay behind.” concerning eyes met his & he knew better than to argue with you. Malcolm gulped but nodded anyway.

“You ready to do this?” Sam asked.

“I am but I think (Y/N)’s a little rusty.” Dean commented.

“Just...let’s get this over with…” rolling your eyes at Dean, you hated to admit that he was most likely right. You had not been on a hunt in a very long time but you knew you could fight when push came to shove.

The four of you entered the church silently, weapons at ready. After walking around for a while, Dean lifted his hand to stop you all. Trying to get a better look at what made him freeze, you were shocked when you saw Jonah, the painter, pacing these holy grounds. Why did you not think of him? It was quite obvious, really. Maybe you were getting rusty.

“Well, he is a demon, no doubts, but he isn’t Abaddon.” Dean spoke, quietly enough as to not get caught. “So if you guys distract this son of a bitch, I can catch him off guard from behind & stab him.”

“No, wait. You can’t kill him, Dean.” you argued. There was still a possibility of a human being somewhere inside.

“What? Why?” Dean turned towards you & tilted his head in confusion. Sighing out, you tried to talk some sense into him.

“Let Sam do an exorcism. We don’t know if Jonah’s still in there.” Dean thought about this for a few seconds but nodded afterwards. Sam grabbed an old lore book with the exorcism inside. He remembered the words by heart but better safe than sorry, right? Your plan was to stay hidden, the church was dark enough to do that without getting caught.

The demon was confused when he heard the first words of the exorcism, already struggling to stay inside Jonah. Good, he was not a strong one. Malcolm stayed close with you. Sam & Dean each took one side of the church, just in case something went wrong. Sam continued with the latin words & the demon was unable to move anymore. He was trapped in one place. That was when all of you made yourself shown to him. Hopefully, Jonah was still alive in there. If not, you had a lot of explaining to do. You already had but another dead person would make everything even more complicated.

“I AM ABADDON!” the demon screamed & you noticed that he barely had enough strength to stay in Jonah’s body anymore. Malcolm stayed in the background, simply observing & letting you do your job.

“I’m sure you wanna be, pal.” Dean got closer to the demon but not too close for it to be dangerous. “But we got rid of her a long time ago.” and it was true. Abaddon’s death was years ago. Why this demon thought to be her? You were not sure. But you also did not care. You just wanted this to be over. Sam finished the ritual & black smoke came out of Jonah’s mouth. After that, he fell to the floor & all of you ran over to him. Malcolm checked for a pulse & nodded when he felt it. Letting out a breath, you were glad that you could save him. Grabbing your phone out of your pocket, you dialed 911 & called Gil right after.

In no time, cars were surrounding the church. Sam, Dean, Malcom & you were standing in a small circle outside. Gil approached you.

“What the hell happened? And who the hell are you guys?” the second question was directed at your brothers who coughed a little, not knowing how to answer. Time to sell a little fake story.

“Gil, these are Sam & Dean, my brothers.” Gil shook both men’s hands.

“Didn’t know you had brothers.” he noted.

“Long story…Anyway, they came to visit & stayed at our apartment. They kinda overheard Malcolm & I talking about the case. Sam, here, has the brains-“

“Hey!” Dean feigned hurt at your words.

“And he pieced everything together. We didn’t wanna waste time & before I even had the chance to call you, we had already caught him.” as soon as you finished, Malcolm joined in to help with your little white lie.

“Jonah was poisoned by the lead in the paint he was using. It can cause dissociative behavior that can be mistaken for possession.” thank God for Malcolm “Human Dictionary” Bright. Gil could not argue with this so he simply went back over to the rest of the team. Nice job.

“Thanks guys.” addressing Sam & Dean.

“So that’s it, huh?” Sam asked, sad that he knew he had to let you go again. Yet, he supported your decision.

“Hey, Malcolm?” Dean looked at him. “I wanna show you something, come on.” Malcolm followed Dean to the black car which left you alone with Sam.

“He’s gonna kill him, isn’t he?” Sam laughed at your words.

“Possibly.” then he turned serious again. “I miss you.” Sam confessed, his jaw clenching.

“I miss you, too, Sammy.” looking up at him, you continued. “And I’m sorry for disappearing off the radar. It’s just…when I left, this entire starting new thing took more time than I thought it would.”

“I get it & I’m not asking you to come back with us. I can see that you like it here. You’ve finally found your happiness & by the way Malcolm looks at you? He’s utterly in love with you, (Y/N). Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will, I promise. You, too. Call me when you’re starting the next apocalypse.” you joked with him. He then pulled you into a big hug, one that you had missed so much. Sam always gave the best hugs.

“What is it?” Malcolm asked Dean, nervous as to why he wanted to talk to him alone.

“Look, man, (Y/N)’s my little sister & I’d do anything for her. So if you ever hurt her…know that I’ll beat the crap outta you.” Malcolm gulped but found enough courage to answer him.

“I love (Y/N). I’d never to do anything to hurt her. I get why you worry, I do. But she’s safe here. I promise.”

“Hey Dean, go easy on him.” their heads snapped in the direction your voice was coming from. By the smile on your face, he knew you were joking. Sam & you reached the car.

“I’ll miss you.” approaching Dean, you were more than satisfied when he opened his arms for you to pull you into a hug. He pressed a soft kiss on top of your head before releasing you again.

“Malcolm promised me to keep you safe.”

“Did he now?” turning around, eyeing your boyfriend with a smirk.

“Check in with us, okay?” Dean grew serious.

“I will, I promise. You guys take care of yourselves, okay?” both men nodded. “Tell Cas I said hi. How are you two doing anyway?” you stopped briefly to wink at him which made Sam chuckle quietly. “And bring him next time.”

“Alright, goodbye.” Dean said, laughing at you, Sam joining him.

“Bye, guys.” you waved at them when they got into the car.

Leaning into Malcolm’s side, you could feel his arm sneaking around your waist to keep your close. For a few moments, you stood there in silence, watching the Impala slowly disappear out of your view.

“Do I need to be jealous of this Cas guy?” Malcolm asked all of a sudden & you broke out into laughter. His confused face was hilarious.

“Trust me, Mal. If you meet him, you’ll know that there’s no need to be jealous.” tears were threatening to escape your eyes. The simple image of you & Cas together made you laugh out loud.

“I guess I need to trust you on that.”

“Hey, remember what you said when you thought we wouldn’t need help solving this case?” you asked him, changing the topic entirely. His face showed you that he did, in fact, not remember.

“I told you so.” you smirked at him, enjoying how his smile slowly faltered. Rolling his eyes at you, he wanted to say a witty remark. You knew what he was trying to do but before he had the chance, you silenced him with a long, soft kiss. That always managed to do the job. Pulling away after a few seconds, you lovingly stared into his eyes. This moment could have been overly romantic. If it were not for you putting salt into his wound.

“I told you so.” repeating your previous words, you walked away from him, sarcastically smiling as you did so. You were right about this & Malcolm prepared himself to hear the same words over & over from now on.

Published (04/15/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @thefictionalgemini, @prodigalsonlovingbisexual, @octopus5555, @claudiaparker30, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @popcornanon, @jasminetea-andpaisho, @anatanotegami, @blackandwhitejoker (thanks for your support <3)

#malcolm bright x reader #malcolm bright #tom payne #prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #Prodigies #prodigal son x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #fanfiction #imagine #gil arroyo #dani powell #jt tarmel #edrisa tanaka #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #castiel #destiel #SPN #SPNFamily #supernatural #supernatural family #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #winchester!reader #winchester!sister #crossover #supernatural crossover

[unholyhelbig]

Title: Centerfold

Ship: Beca Mitchell/ Chloe Beale

She heard it before she saw it, the incessant chattering of her male coworkers. It was the same every single morning; a bunch of men with half-suits, or suit jackets, or loose ties, standing around a coffee machine that whirred and sputtered. They didn’t’ have a literal water cooler, but Beca knew if they did, they would be swarming like gnats to honey-soaked bread.

“Look what I have?” Jason said.

“Oh, shit dude,” Rick said.

Beca clenched the corner of the fridge tighter and leaned into the cold scent of cheese and half-rotted vegetables. She scanned the Tupperware containers that were stacked liked Tetris and tried to hear them over the hum of the Maytag. It was hard, but not impossible.

“She is… well, she is magnificent.”

She. Well, that didn’t’ narrow anything down. It could be a boat or a car or even a damn pool noodle. Anything that they could objectify and name and own. And really it was just as degrading as it sounded but in this case, they seemed to be talking about a magazine. A playboy that had the back folded over.

Her fellow Coders leaned with their backs to the coffee machine, each in pale button-downs, each practically drooling over whatever page they had turned to. Beca clenched her jaw and let the fridge fall shut with a muffled bang. Not muffled enough to keep her usually unnoticed presence under wraps.

They looked like well-groomed deer in headlights.

Jason snatched the magazine from his counterpart and hid it behind his back. Color blossomed against his cheeks and he started to squirm. “Nothing,”

“Nothing? Because it looks like a porn magazine to me.” She held her hand out and flexed her fingers. It was the universal sign for wanting him to hand over whatever wasn’t there. He eyed her suspiciously, then looked at Rick, then back at Beca before he shoved it forward.

She smiled and flipped right to the page that they were gawking at. Because not only did she feel kind of excluded from a mostly male office, but she also liked the deflated expressions that Rick and Jason wore like masks.

The picture was a mostly modest one if you didn’t count the placement of the woman. Most of this stuff was online now and it was rare to see a magazine in the first place. But this dawned a classic centerfold image of a woman. Her legs spread and the part that kept everyone guessing cut expertly with the spine. There was tan skin and curly russet hair, hand fingers dawned in gold rings.

She lifted an eyebrow because this was the thing her coworkers were gawking at? Not even a full picture. But it was enough to get them embarrassed and aroused and she never really understood why. Her eyes flicked down to the corner; in neat cursive writing, sat a name. Chloe Beale.

Beca had to stifle a cough, more of a choke after her throat dried entirely. She had to keep a cool face, but some red color must have gotten to her cheeks because now Jason was grinning like a fool again. He shoved his elbow into Rick’s arm.

“Nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” Beca croaked. She shut the magazine “Mind if I keep this? Just for a bit?”

Rick spoke to his friend “I mean sure, just don’t forget to lock the bathroom door behind you.”

Beca fought the urge to roll her eyes, but she did anyway. “Yeah, whatever.”

She tucked the magazine under her arm and left the breakroom then. There was a cacophony of typing and she nodded at a few people that offered her smiles as she walked towards her corner office. She beckoned her assistant as she walked with her free hand and closed the door behind them.

They had given her the space for “Human Relations” but the main reason for the privacy lay in the fact that Beca knew how to calmly talk down anyone, except for herself. She would have them leaving with a smile and a feeling of accomplishment even if she spun the bad news about sales in a different way. It was all about perspective, and right now her perspective was in shambles.

Emily closed the door behind them and stood there expectantly. She watched as Beca drew the blinds on the windows leading towards the office. She paced a few times, magazine in hand before stopping and staring at her assistant.

“Are you going to fire me?” Emily asked “Because if you are, just rip the bandage off Beca. I can take it.”

“I’m not going to fire you, Em”

There was a thick sigh of relief. It didn’t’ last long. Beca turned the page to the centerfold image once more and shoved it towards her friend. She frowned at it for a moment. “Oh?”

It took Emily the same amount of time to figure out the caption. She had turned the magazine vertically, her deep eyes widening and her mouth forming a thin line. “Oh! Oh my god.”

“It’s Chloe,”

“Your Chloe.”

Yes, her Chloe. Not anymore- it had been years since they had seen each other and even more time since they had spoken more than two sentences. But Beca didn’t’ think her childhood flame would turn towards nude modeling, and she didn’t’ figure that she would be the watercooler discussion of the day.

Her blood was running cold and she had to sit down. Instead, she settled for leaning against the edge of the desk and squeezing the bridge of her nose. She didn’t’ want to look at it, she didn’t’ want to think about her first girlfriend posing like that.

I mean- Chloe had every right to do so but that didn’t’ make her jaw drop any higher. “She looks nice,”

“Not helping, Emily.”

“Sorry, it’s just” The girl threw the magazine back on the desk. “You should reach out to her. The two of you… God the two of you had everything. There wasn’t’ one kid who didn’t idolize what you had.”

Beca nodded. She knew that, to a certain degree. They had met in middle school and stayed together until College. God, college was an absolute dampener and long-distance didn’t’ work for anyone, not even the strongest of people. They had been named homecoming queens both Junior and Senior year, only to break up on Beca’s porch in the stifling summer heat months later.

Emily the wide-eyed freshmen, the innocent friend. The one who Beca went to when she needed cheering up. They mixed all the flavors of Slurpee together at the local 7/11 and made something they called the Frankenice. It was stupid and tasted horrible but it made her feel better, and then it made her feel worse enough to throw up on the sidewalk.

That was years ago, and they had grown into adults. Beca didn’t’ try to contact Chloe, but she did look up her socials in vain. She was pretty; gorgeous and interesting and nothing ever hinted towards this. Not that it was bad and not that she disapproved of the lifestyle, but it made her ache. It made her regret not reaching out sooner. And that made her want to throw the magazine across the room.

“Wouldn’t it be kind of… I don’t know, obvious if I message her right after this thing printed?”

“Half the city is probably messaging her right now,” Emily blew air out of her nose but settled at the pointed glare she received “Look- she probably misses you. You guys didn’t end on bad terms, right? Just not ideal ones.”

Beca rounded her desk and flopped down in her chair. She pulled open her laptop, not blinking an eye when Emily pressed against her back and stared as she pulled open the tab for Instagram. She typed in Chloe Beale and her profile popped up along with four or five fan accounts for her. And Beca had been stupid not to do this before.

They pulled up her feed and Beca felt like she was intruding, but she wasn’t. This was a public and popular profile with pictures of Chloe in bikinis smiling widely and then a few of her at the mansion itself. But most were just joyous and filled her with warmth. She clicked on the messages, open to the public. She typed something and let it linger.

Emily scoffed, hitting the back of the chair. “Hey?... Really? That’s what you’re going with? What are you, Ten?”

“Okay, okay! What would you write?”

“Move please,” Emily shoved Beca to the side and spoke while her fingers worked against the keyboard. “Hey Chloe, how have you been? I know we haven’t spoken in years, but I would love to catch up. If you’re ever in New York, we should grab a drink or coffee.”

She sent it before Beca could object about it being too formal, or not formal enough. Emily shut the laptop and stood back. She was proud of herself and wore the smile that showed it. “Don’t touch that until tomorrow. Play hard to get even though you’re the one initiating conversation.”

“I-“

“No buts, even if she messages back right now, you don’t touch. No.” Emily pointed a finger at her. “I know how this works, I’m still in the dating scene.”

“And I’m not?” Beca asked incredulously

“Please,” Emily scoffed “if you were, you wouldn’t have a magazine with Chloe as the Centerfold.”

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #bechloe fic rec #Bechloe Fanfiction #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #au #request

[enigma-im]

Sucker Punched pt.2

Rating:Explicit Relationship: Alien X Female!Human Warning: Dirty talk, strong language, Alien/human relationship, alien sex

Word Count:4055

Pt. 1

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

We soon part ways as our responsibilities drive us. He to fuck about doing whatever it is he does outside of groping me, I to finish up work before heading back to my place. My small one-bedroom, two-room home. Bigger than most, having the perk of being faculty, but smaller than anything earth could have given me. The large living room is nice to divide the space between the front door and where I sleep. I truly feel for the people who don't have that luxury. It feels too unsafe to be comfortable.

I fiddle about with a quick shower and a change of clothes, completely forgetting about Kurt for the time. It's not till I hear a rather intimidating knock at the door so I remember our plans. Cursing to myself I throw on a shirt before heading into the living room.

He pounds on the door again," For fuck sakes, hold on." I angrily right my clothes, untucking my hair, before grabbing the handle. I thrust the door open, my hair billowing in the breeze. I glare out at the tall buff alien who fills my doorway-perhaps the hallway as well. His teeth are poking through his small smirk, giving him a dorky charm. Kurt eyes me from head to toe, not hiding his appreciations though I lack effort in my outfit.

"Beautiful as ever, though I know you never disappoint," he raises a brow. It's still strange to hear him speak English, though its through a translator. I find I miss the rough tone of his normal language, it never failing to send chills down my spine. Then again, who isn't a sucker for a deep voice?

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I scoff.

"I find the crimson hue of your cheeks to be something, like an incentive really," he tilts forward. The alien towers over me like no other, feeling like he is boxing me in with just his height. I find myself leaning towards him despite his natural intimidation.

"If I knew you were this much of a flirt I would have forgone getting our translators fixed."

"Oh, prefer my other attempts of getting into your pants better?"

"So confident that you could get into my pants? A flirt and cocky, how unattractive."

"the lies you spill from your mouth almost mask the arousal that practically oozes from you when I'm around," he quickly grasps the doorframe as he leans in close," Admit it, love, you want me bad." his proximity short-circuits my brain for a moment, just long enough for him to chuckle. I can smell his musk, it muddling my brain as he presses a gentle, loud kiss to my cheek. I can't help but sigh in defeat, the bastard has me there.

I take a step back from him, his glare following me as I turn towards the kitchen. I stop at the fridge, glancing over at the frowning Kurt still perched at the door.

"Well, come in. I rather not have my coworkers question while a nearly 7ft alien is guarding my doorway," I grin. He huffs, dropping his head with a shake before coming over. He closes the door behind himself, walking towards the couch to plop down. I look through the fridge for literally anything to eat. Never entertaining guests before now seems to have hindered my dinner plans.

I settle on some bullshit microwave dinners, almost mortified in having to do so. While they 'cook' I lean against the counter to watch Kurt. For a moment he looks around the space, not really reacting to anything. Once he grew bored he turns to me. He cocks a brow in question.

"I believe I was promised some wooing," I break the silence.

"Was what I said at the door not enough," he answers. I scoff at his response, turning back to the meals. Perhaps he was all talk and no action. How disappointing, I expected a lot more from him. I won't lie and say he hasn't grown on me, like a tumor. Being a constant thorn in my side has proven fruitful in his quest for my affection, but if he intends to be a stick in the mud then I have to quarrels tossing him to the side.

I barely hear him when he sneaks up behind me, cupping my hips as his groin meets my back. I bite my cheek to not respond, way too curious to see where this is going. I feel his breath on my neck, raising my hairs as he exhales near my ear.

"Since the day we met, I have not stopped thinking about you. You have invaded everything I do. When I sleep, I see your face. I dream of your curves against mine, feel your skin under my lips. Every night I have felt your sweet caress to my cock, on the verge of climax just as I wake. I think I can escape you in my wake but my thoughts only flow for you. I can only ponder how you would taste. Would you be sweet like I imagine, would you cum like how I picture," he licks just behind my ear," are these words good enough for you? I am not a romantic man, but you bring me to my knees and make me wanna do things I never even considered before."

I stutter on a breath, gnawing on my cheek," l-like what?" He grinds into me, pressing his hardening cock against my lower back. He thrills me more as he reaches under my shirt to palm my stomach. I can't bring myself to move, barely making a sound as he licks and nibble. Kurt teases my neck with his tusk before pressing the blunt tips to my skin, dimpling the area enough to wretch a gasp from me.

"I can smell your cunt," he purrs as his hands trail up. His fingertips barely touch my bra when I choke on a inhale. The anticipation of having his large palms on me almost takes my breath away. He chuckles huskily in my ear, rubbing his cheek to mine as he leans over to watch himself. He slowly slides his fingers under my cups, teasing the skin as he engulfs my breast. I'm sure he can feel my heart beating fast against my ribs, thumping loudly near his fingers. He hums as he palms and squeezes me. I sigh, falling against him. My head rests on his shoulder, tilting for his lingering kisses.

We both startle as the microwave beeps. I stand straight, suddenly ripped from the haze of building tension. He freezes as I do, his hands slowly trailing down as he worries about my next reaction. I look up at the meals resting in the finished device. I then look down at my clenched hands, finally noticing the throbbing between my legs and the hardon pressed to my back. I chew my lip in thought, really thinking hard on saying 'forget dinner'.

Before I can overthink this I tear his hands from my shirt and twist in his hold. I look up at his startled face, nearly laughing at his wide-eyed expression. I cast a glance at the tent in his pants, grinning as I meet his eyes. Quickly I leap and grab his horn, jerking him closer to my level with a Cheshire grin.

"Are you going to ravish me like I deserve, I refuse to waste my time with unworthy men," I ask near his lips. He looks a bit dazed as he stares down at my mouth.

"Yes," he answers.

"I demand you take me to my room before I change my mind then. I expect nothing but the best, understood?"

His lips part as he meets my eyes with wonder," Yes, ma'am." Fast as lightning he scoops me up in his strong arms and whisks me away to the bedroom, meals left forgotten.

Kurt attacks my lips while maneuvering in the dark. His hands on my thighs are scorching, also helpful in my grinding against his stomach. I fist his hair, twisting his head to delve my tongue into his mouth. His groans muddle my brain, throwing my thoughts in disarray.

I'm startled when he tilts forward. I panic, grabbing his shoulder tightly as my back suddenly meets the bed. His chuckle against my neck annoys me, taking me away from the lust riddled thinking I was drowning in before. As his tongue slathers up my neck I grab his horn, dragging him up.

"Yes," he asks displeased," do I need to woo you with more words, or am I free to satisfy my curiosity?"

I snort," Curiosity?" His fangs poke through his smile, a purr rolling out between his lips.

"I'm quite interested in seeing if you match the women of my kind," he lowers down to press a teasing kiss to my jaw.

"How about we don't talk about other women while in bed," I pull him back again. His cocky grin drops to another annoyed grimace.

"We can just not talk at all, that seems to be a safe bet," he suggests, wiggling his horn out of my hold. His lips press just above my shirt collar, his teeth dimpling my skin as he nibbles. The tips of his fingers tease around the end of my shirt, trailing his claw along the slightly revealed flesh.

I can hardly think of a snarky response, completely invested in his attentions. His tongue on my neck and his hands palming my hips. My nails dig into his shoulders, scratching down to his elbows.

"Ku-," I'm interrupted by a bell. We both pause in confusion till a loud knocking follows. I sigh, sitting up. Kurt quickly grabs me, keeping me where I am.

"No, ignore it," he growls. He quiets my protests by pulling my hips into his, grinding his hard-on against me. A thrill shoots up my spine, muddling any thoughts of the door.

"Hello," I faintly hear a voice call from outside the room. I freeze again, grabbing at Kurt. He tries to bring my attention back to him, biting at my shoulder.

"Just real quick," I smile apologetically. He answers with a growl, bucking his hips more. Fed up I grab his horn and drag him away. "real quick," I scold. He huffs then sighs before rolling off.

I hop out of bed, a wiggle in my step. I share in Kurt's frustrations, stomping towards the door with frustration. I rip open the door, already fed up with the upcoming conversation.

"Hello," the slim techie from the other day answers. His appearance at my door is startling enough to erase my ire.

"Hey," I respond confused," What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in. The update was sent out yesterday and I was hoping to get input on it," he answers.

"Works well enough, I haven't had any issues with it. I have to agree with you though, Kurt has a 'way' with words," I chuckle.

He laughs as well," He was a bit too vulgar for my taste. It brought on a very awkward situation."

As we talk I faintly hear steps behind me. My suspicions are verified when the techie tenses up. He looks over my shoulder, giving an uncomfortable smile.

"Seeso," Kurt growls.

"Ker'chak," Techie answers," How is your translator h-holding up?"

"Good," Kurt sneers," feel free to leave now."

"Kurt," I scold," chill out." Kurt continues sneering at the poor lad, not doing anything to hold back his anger at the man's presence.

"Alright then," Kurt grabs my hips, pulling me to his chest," Seeso I wish to get back to wooing my woman and you standing here is preventing that so I say nicely, piss off." before either one of us can answer Kurt slams the door shut and lifts me off my feet.

"That was rude as hell, you couldn't wait, like, five minutes," I slap his chest.

"I am extremely hard right now so excuse me for being a little impatient," he chuffs. I snort, stretching up to bite his neck. I tighten till he hisses.

"Good things come to those who wait," I press a kiss to my teeth marks.

He groans," And you can't get what you don't take."

Kurt tosses me onto the bed, quickly climbing over me. He doesn't take his time, ripping my shirt off swiftly to lather attention on my breast. His sharp tusk pricks my skin as he sucks on a nipple. I pet his hair back from his face, watching him. His eyes open to meet mine, growling as his swirls his tongue.

"You are quite handsome, I'll admit," I hum. His sudden purr startles me, along with the pinching of his claws on my thighs.

"Well thank you," he mumbles, pressing wet kisses to my chest.

I chuckle at his excitement, fisting his hair before pushing him down my body. He resists a bit to press his lips down a line of my stomach. He crawls off the bed and onto his knee. As he reaches my pants he nuzzles his cheek to my hips. His purrs increase, his hands massaging my thighs.

"Fuck," I groan," stop, it's too cute."

"Cute," he scoffs," No one has ever accused me of being cute." he unbuttons my pants, tugging them down my legs.

"Well you are, so get used to that," I tease. He hums in thought, a small smile ghosting his lips.

"As long as you are the only one saying it then I guess its fine," he mumbles. Before I can tease some more he tugs off my underwear. "Speaking of cute," he smirks. The smug smile makes me roll my eyes, biting off a chuckle.

"Yea, yea," I scoot out of his hold," Get on your back."

"Oh my back," he quirks a brow," now why should I do that?"

"Because I said so," I shrug. From his place on the floor, he rests his chin on the bed, grinning that mischievous smile.

"Since when did you become the boss," he says. I regard him with a teasing smirk. I crawl towards him, grabbing his horn to draw him back.

"Since I decked you in the face, now get on the bed big boy," I press a swift kiss to his lips," I'll make it worth your while."

He hums," When you put it like that." Kurt crawls onto the bed, resting on his back with his hands behind his head. He smirks down at me, tilting his head. "Now what, my sexy female?" I don't answer, instead of crawling up his body. I sit on his upper chest, looking down at him between my knees. I pet at his face as he looks from me to my crotch then back.

"this my prize for following orders? Feels more like a prize for you," he looks back at my crotch, licking his lips despite his words. I pet his bottom lip, pressing my thumb into his mouth. He wastes no time sucking on it.

"What? Don't want my cute pussy on your cute face," I quirk a brow. He nibbles on my thumb before pushing it out of his mouth. He presses one kiss to it then grabs my thighs.

"Well when you put it like that," he chuckles. I yelp when he quickly drags me over his face. Wasting no time delving between my folds with his tongue. At his first taste, he groans loudly, his hips bucking behind me.

"I'll take it you’re a fan," I huff, petting his head.

"I will dine on you every night as long as you stay wet just for me," he growls, licking another stripe. His fingers dig into my skin, showing off his enjoyment. As he laps at me I can't help but grind into him, biting back groans and cries of pleasure. His teeth poking at the cleft of my thighs adds a certain thrill to all this. His alien-ness becoming extremely apparent now. I look down at him between my legs, his eyes closed in pure enjoyment.

I find myself leaning back, holding onto his raised knees. I watch him, enraptured at his monstrous appearance. Moans leave me lips, my insides burning only for him.

"Kurt," I groan," you look so sexy like this." his eyes creak open a moment.

"You should speak for yourself," he hums. My hips grind on his mouth, a cry ripping from my throat.

"I'm close," I lean back up. I grab onto his horns, pulling him into my thrusts. His hands slide from my thighs to my ass, guiding my grinds. As his fingers knead my skin I burst. I shout, throwing my head back as I yell into the room. He purrs under me, lapping up every drop as I cum for him.

I nearly fall into the wall, barely catching myself on my hand. I pant, resting my head onto the cold wall. Catching my breath I look down at Kurt, smiling at his wide grin.

"You look so happy," I mumble. He kisses my mound.

"Of course," he answers. He adjusts me down his chest, sitting up to hold me close. He rubs my back, kissing my lips.

Once I come back to myself I react to his attention. I pull him into a strong kiss, delving my tongue into his mouth as I pull on his hair. His cock pokes excessively against my ass.

"Your turn," I grin. He hums before I push him back onto the bed. I crawl between his legs, grabbing at his pants. The anticipation builds as my curiosity peaks. What could he look like?

At my hesitation, he speaks," You good?" I bite my lip. Instead of answering I tug his pants down. His cock immediately slaps back against his stomach, then bobbing just over it.

His cock is fairly thick, long but his girth is more attention-grabbing. Along his shaft are nubs that really pique my interest. I grab him, huffing at his growl. I thumb the numbs, noticing their firmness. I slide up him, pinching at his spear-like tip.

"Interesting," I mumble to myself.

Kurt's head pops up," What?" his nerves revealed in his tone. I sit down on my stomach between his legs, pumping his cock a few times as I look up at him.

"Don't worry, it's a good interesting. You are fucking lovely," I kiss his shaft. He twitches in my hold, his head falling back as he purrs again. "You are all around the sexiest man I have ever been with," I smile. He groans again, bucking into my hand. I adore his reactions oh so much.

Too eager I wrap my lips around him, sucking on his tip as I jerk him off. His grunts fuel me, sending jolts of pleasure to my crotch. His taste is unlike human men, having a sweetness to it that I wasn't expecting. I choke him down into my mouth, feeling his tip hit the back of my throat. I bob, sucking on his cock with great interest. His noises grow in frequency, making me gain tempo.

As his hips begin to buck into me he lifts me from his cock. "Stop," he groans," stop." I rest my head on his thigh, watching him catch his breath. I trace a vein on his hip, grinning like a fool.

"Did ya like it," I ask. He tilts his head to look at me.

"Don't ask stupid questions and get on my lap," he pants. Instead of straddling him, I crawl up him, lying beside him on my back. He turns towards me confused.

"I want you to be on top," I shrug. He rolls his eyes, turning to crawl on top of me.

"I figured you would want to be on top," he leans down to trail kisses along my neck. I comb my fingers through his hair, my other hand reaching between us.

"Now why would you think that," I grab his girth, jerking him a bit. He doesn't answer, growling with his teeth bared. "Now, enough talking," I turn towards his ear, whispering," I want you inside me." he hisses, his tip prodding between my folds.

He presses in slowly, both of us feeling every thrilling inch. Our sigh of satisfaction when he settles to the hilt is echoing. We give each other a second, not wanting the moment to end so soon.

"Fuck," he pants," you are more perfect than I dreamed." he rolls his hips for emphasis. I hug him close.

"Yea," I huff," you too."

He chuckles," may I ravage you now?"

"Is that what you guys are calling it these days," I snort.

"shut up," he growls before pulling back and bucking forward. I choke on a gasp as he fills me so quickly. He repeats, thrusting hard and fast. His cock is as fulfilling as I hoped, his nubs rubbing splendidly against my walls. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body ever so close. My nails dig into his hard skin, almost piercing it.

He suddenly stills, his breath stuttering. "Maybe you shouldn't have sucked my dick," he laughs.

"Yea," I snort," you promised me a ravaging. we barely even started and you're ready to end it."

"Shut up," he pulls out, unwrapping my arms from around him. I watch him confused, almost disappointed. He slithers down my body between my legs where he presses his two fingers inside me. I sigh, straying off my future disappointment as he begins fingering me.

"stalling, big boy," I laugh. He doesn't answer, leaning down to suck my clit as his fingers glide in and out. His claws rake gently along my walls, tingling me with satisfaction. He rumbles with a purr, nibbling on my clit.

"K-Kurt," I grab his horn," I don't wanna cum on your face again." he withdraws his fingers, licking them clean before crawling back up. I grab his face as he nears, ready to tease him. He beats me to it, cupping his hand over my mouth.

"I underestimated you temptress," he nuzzles my cheek," now let's try this again." he thrusts in again with a strained groan. He bucks quickly, reaching down to rub at my clit to finish me off. The startling amount of pleasure makes me reach out and pull him close.

"Kurt, fuck," I cry out," I take it back, you are doing great." he curls on his next thrust, laughing as he does.

"yea, I'm close too," he kisses my cheek.

We both cry into each other, our hot breaths ghosting over the other's skin. I fall first, unsurprisingly. I clench him everywhere. Locking down on his cock, pulling him close with my arms. I shout out his name, rolling into a cry as he pulls out all of my pleasure.

He falls soon after, bucking wildly before stilling. Something hot leaks inside, pulsing with him. It paints my insides as his whole body tenses then relaxes.

"Bless the heavens," he captures my lips fiercely," and my the heavens bless you."

"That sounds like a great compliment," I kiss him back.

"Highest one I can think of right now," he laughs. He soon pulls out, the feeling of him spilling from inside me makes me shiver. He then rolls over, pulling me along. I rest on his chest, hooking a leg over his hips. He grabs my thigh, petting along it as we settle.

"so," he draws out. I look at him from the corner of my eye.

"so," I answer similarly to him.

"am I a keeper," he cocks a brow.

I hum," not sure yet. You still have to make me breakfast in the morning."

"damn," he looks to the ceiling," I'm a shit cook."

"Shame," I shrug," guess I will have to teach you another thing then."

"Another thing?"

"Don't worry about it," I tease. He turns in my hold, facing me dead on.

"Did you not like how I ravaged you," he asks. I shrug again. He answers with a growl, rolling us so I straddle his lap. He pets along my thighs. "I guess you will have to show me how it's done then," he teases. I lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"I guess I will."

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

Finally, Jesus! It took me forever to write this.

Pt. 1

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

#monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #large buff alien #alien x human #exophilia #Enigma-IM #sucker punched pt.2

[yelenasdog]

romance and espionage (eggsy unwin x fem reader)

genre: fluff w/ whole lotta angst

summary: who knew names could be such a touchy subject?

words: 2.4k

warnings: literally saying fuck everyother sentence, kissing, golden circle spoilers (is that a thing? idk), mentions of harry’s supposed death, mentions of roxy’s death, guns, and i think thats it.

ok, all my cm moots don’t judge me. 

a/n: ight so uhh as i’m posting this i’m finding out taron is an incel so that’s kinda oW but uhh i haven’t seen the secret service, i just rewatched the golden circle the other night and hyperfixated on taron so... uh here’s this LMAO. also! this takes place after the golden circle, and reader took roxy’s spot as lancelot. ok enjoy!!

♔♂♔

“God, Eggsy, would you quiet down?!”

He snarled meanly in a way that could make Bennie and Jet’s metallic forms cower in fear, his thin lips turning into a grimace.

“Don't call me that here. It’s Galahad, and Galahad only.”

The other agent only scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Lancelot’s surroundings were dark, although quite stunning nonetheless. It was clear and starry night sky, perfect for romance, the worst for espionage. The air felt so refreshing on her skin, allowing her to feel free in some way, even just for a moment, which she savoured, as a feeling such as that was rare in her line of work.

Now, if the girl had been with someone other than the annoying, prickish, and (even though it pained her to the highest degree to say it) handsome fellow, she maybe would have tried to have a little fun to pass the time. Maybe fool around a bit, fraternize with a coworker, eh?

But alas, ever the one with amazing luck, she was stuck with him. 

Which meant rather than perhaps getting crescent shaped markings on her hips from a quick rondevu under the indigo sky and sparkling stars, so roughly placed to match the moon that hung in it, she was crouching uncomfortably, only wishing that the former scenario was taking place.

 Not that she meant with fucking Eggsy, of course.

Well ok, maybe, just a tad.

“Fine, have it your way, Galahad.” She flailed her arms about in a jazz hand motion, making the blondy roll his twinkly eyes in a boyish manner. She fought the urge to grin widely, a warm feeling blooming in her chest, even at his obvious arrogance and upset towards her.

She wanted to blame his feelings towards her on her being a freshmen agent, recruited right after the convergence of Kingsman and Statesman in an effort to rebuild the organization. She had been childhood friends with Roxy, who had long ago tried to get Y/n to join the agency. When faced with her friend’s death, she wanted to honor her wishes, even if this wish was a little, well, extreme.

He only sighed in response to Y/n, tapping the side of his thick rimmed glasses twice.

Y/n’s eyes followed his hands as he did so, enjoying what she was seeing a great amount. She bit her bottom lip subconsciously, losing all focus that was there to begin with.

“Lancelot? Lancelot? For fucks sake, Y/n!”

She snapped her head up, her eyes becoming magnified even further through the faux tortoise shell glasses that Unwin would never admit framed her face wonderfully.

No, not a chance.

He wouldn’t dare even let the thought about how the soft skin of her freckled nose looked even more kissable, her eyes even more full of depth and wonder, or how kind and sweet she looked when she tucked a stray strand of hair away from her face. All because of the damned glasses. Never.

So rather, he settled for pointing over to where the subject of their stakeout was now standing, gun in hand as he conversed with one of his comrades.

But although her body followed his, listening to his directions, most of the information was going in one ear out the other, her brilliant mind occupied by a certain agent and his endeavors.

She was hard in thought, wondering about names of all things. A simple subject, easy to address, you would think. But apparently it was not so, not at all.

You see, Eggsy never had called Y/n by her name. It was always either “Lancelot”, or “Agent”, Y/n only being used for the exception of if he needed to quickly grab her attention.

And on the flip side, she was never allowed to call him anything other than Galahad. Agent was sparse, it put her on very thin ice, close to splitting at any second with no prior notice.

Now obviously, with Y/n being Y/n, she was determined to crack his rough exterior, despite however much he presented himself as “unbreakable”. (His words, not hers.) So, much to his displeasure, she often called out a quick “Oi, Unwin!”, or a “Jesus, Eggsy!” whenever he got in her way, which usually resulted in a similar distasteful glance to what she was recieving now being shot in her direction.

“Alright, Eggsy, I’m thinking that his partner is-“ She used her glasses X-Ray feature, confirming her suspicions. “The partner is in the abandoned pharmacy across the street, should we wait or go now?” He was silent, staring straight ahead, scrutinizing nothing in particular with a stare that was set in stone. 

She whistled lowly, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Eggsyyy-“

“Lancelot, would you shut the hell up! Don’t fucking call me that!” He stood up, leaving a vulnerable feeling Y/n in his wake.

Y/n’s jaw was suddenly like it was wired shut. She was paralyzed, unable to speak, only keeping her gaze fixated on Galahad.

“Look, I’m sorry-“

“Yeah, well good, then! When will you ever learn, we’re not friends, nor will we ever be. Get it through you’re fuckin’ head. It’s like you think you’re Roxy or some shit-“

Sadness and guilt turned to anger rather quickly for Y/n at his unfortunate choice of words.

“Stop it! Would you please, just stop it! For fucks sake!” Her voice was harsh, something he never would had never expected out of Y/n. Tears sprung into her eyes, and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, no doubt drawing crimson liquid in the process. She tasted iron on her tongue, feeling it seep into her taste buds.

“Lancelo-“

“Fucking hell, shut the fuck up! Really, please, Galahad, listen to me, for once in your life.” She was the one who shot up, inching closer to him with every word. The sticks and leaves crunched under her feet, causing her to cringe at the sound, hoping it didn’t alert the targets.

He nodded solemnly, his jaw locking up, and his hands she had been admiring only seconds before clamped into fists at his sides.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, Harry’s words of “remember your training” ringing through her head. She internally began chanting it like a mantra of sorts.

But if she was being honest, she couldn't quite remember a chapter in the Kingsman handbook (that she most definitely did read during training) that talked about emotional distress due to your coworker who you’re extremely attracted to calling you only by your dead best friend's name, but hey, who knows.

“I know I'm not Roxy. Nobody else could ever be Roxy. I know that, you know that, hell, she knew that. And I would say that you have no idea how it feels to be reminded of one of your closest friends who is dead every time someone calls you by a name that feels as if it isn’t your own, but you do, Galahad. Or you did. But now Harry is back and- and Roxy, well Roxy is gone!”

A single tear slipped out of her left eye. The agent in front of her felt a strong urge wipe away the tears he now felt guilty for playing a large part in. But he resisted, his hands remaining stuck to his side.

“So why would you do this? Say these things, act this way, when you know I have to live every day with you for some reason calling me Lancelot in every situation and me having to call you Galahad all the same! Maybe I shouldn’t have stepped up to be Lancelot when Roxy was killed, if I can’t handle it, can’t handle the dehumanization that comes with only being known as an emotionless fuckin’ agent to you.” 

She stopped, hanging her head. She looked over to the flickering neon lights of the pharmacy, watching the outlines of the targets move around.

“I honestly have no idea if any of that made sense, or if I’m just rambling, I don’t fucking have the slightest idea what the fuck I’m even doing anymore.” Her voice got significantly more quiet, her sentences reduced to mumbles.

Aside from the target and his partners yelling at each other, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

His usually stern tone he took with the girl was softer now as he spoke, “You made perfect sense.”

She gave him a half smile before continuing, feeling oddly validated by his words. 

“But what I’m trying to say, Galahad, is that I’m a fucking human being. I have a life outside of this Godforsaken job, and-and emotions, too! I mean, I might even have kids that you don’t know about!”

He internally rolled his eyes, yet again fighting another urge, this time to smile widely at Y/n. Weird.

“Do you have kids I don’t know about-“

“Of course I don’t!”

They shared a short laugh as their words overlapped, harmonizing in a sweet way, their voices like thick and golden honey. Weird.

The two were then succumbed to a blanket of comfortable silence, but only for a short moment before the hushed whispers of Unwin’s voice were heard.

“D’you wanna know why?”

Y/n cocked her head, beckoning him to go on with whatever it was he was going to say. “Why what?”

“Why I only call you Lancelot, why I don’t let you call me Eggsy.”

She nodded, sitting down once more and tucking her leg under her chin in a manner that Eggsy found endearing and adorable. It distracted him slightly, but not long enough for his starry eyed staring to become creepy. Not that Y/n would have it in her capacity to ever think that of him, if she was being honest.

“If I start to think of you as ‘Y/n’, rather than Lancelot things get too real. If you hurt, o-or if you get kidnapped, or God forbid- die.” He momentarily paused, looking up to meet Y/n’s eyes.

“It would make it all too real. I can’t do that, Y/n. After what happened to Harry and then Roxy, and everyone else,” he shook his head, his expression showing him close to crying at the thought of what he was speaking of.

“I can’t lose you too.”

It was like her soul had become visibly lighter, feeling an unimaginable relief flood throughout her system at his proclamation. She was able to come down from her, so to say, “high” almost as soon as she had started it, placing her hands on his, using them as leverage to pull herself up.

“You can’t be so afraid, Galahad. You gotta, you know,” she shrugged, offering him a small smile.

“Live a little.” She moved to look down to meet his eyes where his head was suspended in shame, forcing him to look back up.

“And also, try not to let your fear turn you into a dick, which is by all means just a suggestion.” Y/n laughed at the last bit, smiling and glancing to the side slightly.

They both shared a second laugh together, and it seemed as if for a short while, time stopped. It was just the two of them, features illuminated by the pale moonlight. No target, no saving the world, nothing. Just them. 

So he reached forward, unsure if what he was doing was the right thing, just like always. The damn question of righteousness was engrained in his brain, restricting him like it did majority of the time. But for once, he decided to disregard it in it’s entirety.

So throwing all caution to the wind, unable to contain himself any longer, he closed the small gap left between the two, connecting their lips in a long awaited kiss.

One of his hands flew to the side of her face, the other wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer with a squeal. He laughed into the union, and she only smiled. One of her hands went to entangle itself with his on her waist, the other resting on his shoulder.

She could smell his cologne that he most definitely should not have been wearing per Kingsman on the job regulations, and welcomed the scent, doing her best to commit it to memory, a permanent reminder of what it felt like to be so close to the man.

After what seemed like a long time (but never long enough, honestly) they pulled away, panting for breath. Their foreheads rested on each other’s, the cool night air flowing around them, calming the pair completely.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Eggsy reached forward, taking both of her hands. He ran small circles over her knuckles in a way that made her heart flutter, before dropping them gently, reaching a hand out.

“Let's start over.”

She giggled and widely grinned, and he swore it was becoming his favorite thing in existence when she would do either of those wondrous things.

“Come on, put her there.” He shook his hand slightly making a silly face as well, widening his eyes and looking back and forth from his hand and her face. She placed it in his, proudly smirking as she did so. Their shiny rings clanged, which resulted in another small giggle errupting from her throat.

 He shook it back and forth, a sly smile painting itself on his lips. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Eggsy Unwin.”

She quirked an eyebrow, retracting her hand momentarily, letting it linger in the air.

“Eggsy, hmm? Bit of an odd name, don’t you think?”

He scoffed, placing his hand over his heart in false offense.

“Well if it’s so bad, what’s yours then?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He looked to his feet momentarily, lifting his hands on either side of his head. “I digress, you win.”

She bit her bottom lip again, wincing as she hit the same spot from before. She ran her tongue over it, breathing out quickly.

“I’m not so sure. I think Eggsy is growing on me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

They smiled at each other like lovesick teenagers, still lost within the moment.

And although the bubble of ignorant bliss they were in was something the two of them never wanted to leave, it was sadly inevitable that it would be popped at some point in time.

And almost like an alarm to wake them up from a beautiful dream, gunfire was able to be heard ringing throughout the building across the way.

They pulled apart with a groan coming from Y/n, and a “For fucks sake” from Eggsy. With displeasure lacing their expressions, they began to run towards the pharmacy when Y/n felt a hand tug at her wrist.

“Y/n wait!”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him as if he was a mad man, only slowing to a backwards jog. She gestured around her to the burst of red and orange explosions that were now going off around her, screaming “What?!”

He sprinted to catch up with her forcing her to come to a complete stop with a firm hold on her shoulders.

“Eggsy, come on! Lets go- Ah!”

He cut her off with a firm kiss, gripping the sides of her head, scrunching his fingers in her hair. She let a small moan slip out at the feeling, which he responded to by chuckling. He then pulled away, a shit eating grin written on his face. 

She stood in shock, unable to move from her place. He started running, turning over his shoulder.

“Come on, Y/n, keep up!”

Not focusing on where he was going, he tripped over himself, letting out a small yell of surprise. Y/n laughed loudly, going to chase after him with a miniscule shake of her head at his antics.

But nonetheless, the only thing going through Y/n’s mind during that situation that should have been horrifying, was that maybe she was wrong all this time.

Romance and espionage did go well together, especially when it was with Y/n and Eggsy.

♔♂♔

hello!!! so this was a multi-fandom account to begin with anyways so honestly i feel like i should start a seperate masterlist for “hj’s hyperfixations”. but yah this was my first fic for him and idk if i’ll do another but i hope u enjoyed this! also it’s my bday tomorrow (sept 7th) so this is a self indulgent fic. as a treat. ok love u bye!

xx hj

also avery asked me to tag her so @spideyspencer​ LMAO i’m so sorry for this mess.

#taron egerton #taron egerton x reader #taron egerton x you #taron egerton fanfic #taron egerton fic #taron egerton fluff #taron egerton angst #taron egerton kingsman #kingsman #kingsman eggsy #kingsman golden circle #kingsman secret service #eggsy #eggsy x reader #eggsy x you #eggsy unwin #eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin fluff #eggsy unwin fanfic #eggsy unwin angst #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy unwin one shot #kingsman galahad #eggsy kingsman #fem reader #kk bye #taron #taron x reader #taron x you

[justcourttee]

Love your stories. The premise for this one involves Plagg learning And overhearing about Lila’s deal With Gabriel. Spying on Adrien and keeping him away from ‘bad influences’. Plagg tells Adrien what he found out, Adrien is a bit reluctant, but when he heard of Lila sabotaging his friends and the involvement with the expulsion. Adrien finally has enough. Your take on how this goes out

This was such a good prompt that I literally had too many ideas of how I wanted it to go. Hopefully, this works :)

Because We’re Friends, Right?

“But Adrien! You have to believe me! It’s not like I was snooping on your father on purpose! I was just trying to find some more Camembert cheese!”

It felt useless arguing with their chosen. For whatever reason, the humans were fond of their personal space and Plagg phasing through walls was an apparent ‘invasion’ of that.

“Plagg, you know I keep a stash in my drawer, how did you blow through it this fast?”

“That’s not the point Adrien! I feel like you are just redirecting your anger at your father on me. After all, for someone who doesn’t like this pigtails girl, you sure got real red when I mentioned Lila setting her up.”

Plagg nudged Adrien’s arm, but it provided no relief. The tension was still strong in the air, almost as if a cataclysm couldn’t breakthrough.

“Plagg, there’s no way Lila is working for my father to keep my friend’s from me. Neither could be so cruel. Lila just wants to get her way and so does my father, I don’t see their agendas ever crossing.”

“Oh, really now, think about Pigtails getting expelled. You knew it was Lila, but you didn’t know what she had to gain from it right? But what did your father have to gain? An excuse to pull you out of school due to the mass amount of akumatizations that would've happened in one day.”

Adrien opened his mouth, ready to argue, but a small nagging thought sat at the back of his head. It was the first time his father had personally called him in a while, not Nathalie, to make sure he was okay and ask him to come back home.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re working together Plagg, it was just a really messed up coincidence. Besides, I know you’re just trying to take the conversation off of the fact that you left my room, again. You’ve gotta stop dude, what if someone catches you?”

Plagg shrugged their shoulders. Adrien was going to need a lot more than just words to convince him, that was for sure. So Plagg settled in, ignoring Adrien’s speech on privacy for the tenth time that month. Sure enough, sooner or later, Adrien was going to see that Plagg was right, and they couldn’t wait to rub it in his face.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Monday morning came and as Adrien exited his room, he found no other than Lila was waiting for him in the foyer, a fake smile plastered on her face as she chatted with Nathalie.

It was suspicious enough to see her standing so freely in his house, but he tried to brush it off, not let his imagination run wild with the stories Plagg had tried to sell him. She was probably there for a last-minute before class shoot that his father scheduled.

That had to be it.

“Hey, Adrien! I thought I’d ride with you to school today seeing as we’re not only school friends but now work buddies too!”

Adrien’s eyes darted to Nathalie’s face for any explanation, but he was given none as she stared straight ahead her usual expressionless look present.

“Sounds good Lila, after all, that’s what friends do huh? Maybe tomorrow we can invite Nino too.”

Nathalie shook her head, shutting down his idea before he even had a chance to fully ask.

“Miss Rossi was only allowed today due to your photoshoot at your lunch hour. Her stuff would be more conveniently located if it were already in the car than waiting for her to gather it from her locker.”

The excuse was pitiful, even Adrien could see through that. But as the small nagging voice in his head grew larger, his will to ignore it did too. There was no way Plagg was right, this was just another coincidence.

So without another word, he walked out the door, Lila practically skipping beside him as they slid into the car. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . As the rest of the week passed, Adrien noticed Lila hanging around the house more and more. Sometimes to catch up on homework, sometimes, well, he wouldn’t even know she was there until he was slipping out his window, a quick glance of her exiting the gates as he landed on the nearest rooftop. As much as he didn’t want to, he was starting to think that he not only owed Plagg an apology but that it was also time to sit down with his father and finally ask him.

So he waited until their next scheduled dinner, the Thursday before a big photoshoot nonetheless, to strike. It was silent like usual, neither looking up much from their plates. Adrien simply wasn’t sure where to begin, but if he didn’t say something, this dinner would end all too soon.

“Uhm, father?”

Gabriel’s eyes rose slowly as if he wasn’t quite sure if he heard him right.

“What is it, Adrien?”

“I-” Adrien cleared his throat trying to swallow his growing nerves. “I just wanted to know why you hired Lila Rossi.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows furrowed as if it was a stupid question for him to ask. As if Lila made the most logical sense.

“She had quite the impressive resume. Miss Rossi has worked with many big names and is around your age. An older model would look bad on my part. That is all.”

He returned his attention back to his nearly finished plate leaving Adrien with a hundred more questions than he had time to ask. Adrien knew her resume was faked and if Nathalie had done her usual background check, she could’ve discovered that with ease. Something didn’t sit right.

“Father, Lila  Rossi has no connections.”

Gabriel’s frown sent a small shiver down Adrien’s back. He had never so openly defied his father, especially in their once a month dinners. It terrified him that angering him could mean never seeing him again.

“I was not made aware. Are you saying Nathalie is incompetent at the one job I hired her for?”

Adrien shook his head quickly. The last thing he wanted to do was get Nathalie in trouble when he knew that no matter what she did, his father, the perfectionist, always double-checked. There was no way he was so in the dark.

“Adrien, I suggest that you drop this topic. Lila Rossi would be an excellent friend and coworker for you, unlike your DJ friend or the young lady with the pigtails.”

The younger blonde opened his mouth to argue, but he saw no point. Without meaning to, his father already confirmed what he had feared.

Plagg was right.

“I apologize father. I will make more efforts to befriend Lila.”

No other words were spoken during their meal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Weeks came and went and Adrien only felt sicker about the idea. Lila wanted him to date her, his father wanted him to stay home. Lila seems to be working willingly with Hawkmoth who not only benefits her agenda, but his father’s as well.

The more he investigated, the worst he felt. He tried apologizing to Plagg, but the kwamii simply shook it off, only asking for more cheese to compensate for their hurt feelings.

Adrien debated talking to Marinette about it. After all, she was the only one who knew what Lila was like. But something stopped him. Marinette tried to warn him that her lies would hurt their friends, would hurt them, but he shook her off, told her that as long as they were in it together, it didn’t matter if the others knew.

Yet another person he would have to apologize to when this was all over.

As he turned the corner to the lockers, a small yelp caught his attention. Pressing his ear against the wooden door, he could faintly make out the conversation taking place inside.

“-I’m so sorry Nathaniel, please don’t be so upset with me. I asked Adrien to contact the publisher for a meeting because they knew each other better. I really thought I could trust him with such a small task for his friends.”

The sobbing was completely over the top, but unfortunately for him, it seemed to be working. Peeking through the small glass window, Adrien saw the redhead comforting Lila, his face a mixture of anger and disappointment and if Adrien had to take a guess, it wasn’t for Lila.

“It’s rude to spy on people.”

Adrien whipped his head around, his face matching Marinette’s own shade of red.

“Me? Spying? Oh, no, I was just, uh.”

Marinette giggled, the red on her cheeks rising until it reached the tips of her ears. It was adorable.

“It’s okay Adrien, I was just picking on you like you pick on me.”

“Oh,” his chuckle wasn’t as convincing as the red in his own cheeks seemed to meet the tips of his ears as well.

“Adrien, what’s wrong?”

Was she always so good at reading him or was he just an open book lately?

“We can’t talk here, follow me.”

He didn’t bother for her answer as he grabbed her hand, dragging her out into the courtyard. Scanning the area, he found the furthest open bench, bringing Marinette with him. As he sat down, he reluctantly let go, oblivious to the shade of red that had spread now to her neck as well.

“I think my father hired Lila to cause trouble at school in order to force me to come home.”

Marinette bit her lip, unsure how to respond. If it was true, so many things made sense, but it still raised a question.

“What would she gain from that?”

Adrien’s face confirmed her answer before he even spoke.

“As a model, especially a young one, it can be good for business if the models are seen as a couple. Lila has been trying to ask me out since she arrived. I thought that if I was nice, that if I gave in to her demands, she would eventually wear herself out, but here she is, still going strong. I-”

He paused, the image of Nathaniel’s upset face burned into his head.

“I think she’s trying to turn everyone against me so that I’ll choose to go home, where I’ll see her because of work.”

Adrien felt a soft touch on his cheek, the feeling starling him. Marinette reached forward again wiping a tear that he hadn’t realized had fallen.

“Adrien, maybe it’s time we told Alya and Nino. They’re our best friends. I’m sure they’ll understand, they might even know how to help.”

He wanted to shake his head. It would only cause a backlash and he couldn't risk Marinette getting caught in it, but at the same time, he’s left it alone for this long and it has only gotten worse.

“Maybe.”

Her smile was almost blinding as she offered him a hand to stand, apparently intent on seeking them out now. He hesitantly reached up, amazed at how strong she looked standing over him as if she would protect him to the end. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t put a finger on it, not when she was standing here so captivating.

“Adrien! How could you?”

Immediately he withdrew his hand as if he was a little kid, caught in the act. In front of him stood Lila, Nathaniel, and worse of all, Alya and Nino.

“When you said Marinette was your special friend, I thought you meant best friend, not the girl you were seeing behind my back.”

Marinette tried to deny it, but Lila wouldn’t even let her get a word in.

“I know you said you were only dating me to please your father, but I thought you were going to try to love me! I mean, I’m the only one who understands your world. Marinette couldn’t even keep up!”

Adrien looked at the gathering crowd, many of them wearing the same weary face.

Adrien, I-”

“That’s enough Lila.”

Silence spread throughout the courtyard as all eyes turned to them. He realized how loud his voice was, but it didn’t matter to him at the moment. In fact, he would get on top of the roof if he had to. He was done cowering away and he would be damned if he let her drag Marinette down.

“Let’s get one thing straight right here. I was not made aware of any arrangements you and my father have made for the company, therefore, I had no clue about this, about us dating. Let me also state that Marinette has more connections in the business that I have met face to face with her than I have standing by your side.”

Lila’s eyes were deadly as if threatening him to continue, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop.

“Marinette has done cover designs and costume accessories for Jagged Stone. You said you saved his non-existent kitten? Well, let’s have Marinette call him right now and see for sure. I mean surely someone who saved his prize animal would remember the name of its savior right?”

“He’s too busy right now, that’s not necessary-”

“And how about you teaching Clara dance moves? Marinette was actually picked to be the star in her music video and impressed Clara when she turned down the spot to get her friends in the video as well. She even came up with the idea that Clara used for her Miraculous music video. She has her phone number as well, shall we call her as well?”

“I-”

“What about your connections in the fashion business? Besides me, you have none. Marinette has managed to impress Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois with a derby hat, the same hat that she impressed my father with as well. Don’t doubt for a second that she couldn’t keep up in my world.”

The growing crowd seemed split, unsure who to believe. Alya and Nino had slinked away from Lila’s side as they comforted the very pale Marinette. Adrien wanted to rush over, be by her side as well, but he had to stand his ground, see it through to the end.

“I don’t understand Adrien, why are you doing this? You know I have a disease that causes me to lie, I just-”

Adrien placed a hand on her shoulder sending a wave of shock through the girl.

“Because we’re friends, right?”

Lila’s eyes narrowed at his words.

“Friends can’t let other friends hurt themselves with lies, whether those lies were meant to wound or not. I understand you and my father have an arrangement, but with your condition, I don’t believe it would be best for you to be in the spotlight. If you don’t have a strong center, the cameras will eat you up. As your friend, I’m asking you to take a less stressful job.”

The group around them cooed as if Adrien caring about Lila’s health was just so in character of him. As if the two weren’t locked in a silent battle, one only they could see.

“Fine, I’ll resign tonight, but I doubt your father would like that very much.”

Her half-cocked smile worried him. She was obviously far from done, but for the moment he was ready to celebrate a small victory.

“Let me worry about my father, after all, what are friends for?”

Lila nodded, her head tilted as if seeing Adrien in a new light. He didn’t bother waiting around for her answer. Instead, he made his way over to where his friends’ stood.

“Marinette, I’m sorry about that. I know you were trying to keep your connections a secret.”

She shook her head ferociously, her eyes shining with what looked like pride.

“Adrien, we’re going to try and find Andre cart, would you like to come with us?”

“Like as couples?”

Marinette’s face flushed red as she began stumbling over her words, trying to back away, only failing when Alya pushed her back.

“Relax Marinette,” his chuckle surprised even himself. Why was it so easy to flirt with her? Was it just a friend thing? “Today we’ll go as friends, but maybe some other time we’ll try the couple thing.”

“Agreste, did you have to go and break her?”

Alya playfully shoved him as the four of them left the school, ignoring the stares they were receiving. It was so easy right now, but Adrien regretfully knew that it was just the calm before the storm.

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#mircaulous ladybug #mlb fic #adrinette

[obsidianfr3sk]

through the aching shell

Hello!!! After a practically two months without posting anything (not because I was feeling down or anything, school was just making me go crazy), I finally finished the thrid part of the shell series I’m writing with my mother and dear friend Dawn ( @honey-hippie-harper​), where we explore the angsty and depressing parts of Hugh and Simon’s relationship, because we’re crazy and we like to make it everyone’s problem. 

The last two parts (which you can find here and here, and should read in that order for you to understand this one) were from Simon’s POV, but this time I decided to take some creative liberties and write it from Hugh’s POV, since this is basically my own birthday present (yeah, people, I’m 18 years old now, I’m so grown up *emoji with cool glasses*) and I have a permit to do whatever I want (? so I decided to write about Adrian starting his criminal life (?), the Council fighting like my mental ilnesses do at 2AM, and how Georgie’s death affected her loved ones, but especially Hugh, since, like Dawn said, we firmly believe they were best friends and he didn’t grieve her in a healthy way:’) 

This ended up being... a lot longer than I expected (literally 67 word pages). And also a lot more depressing. I want to give a pretty important trigger warning for suicidal ideation, especially for the last scenes. Please, if you read, proceed with caution and take care of yourself. 

On other important news (?), I didn’t feel like killing people today, so I took this canon divergence post my moms did of how Callum and Winston survived the arena, and decided they were going to survive. I don’t think it’s super obvious because of how I wrote the scene, but I just wanted to let you know, so you can be happy with me about it. 

And what else? Well, I think that’s it:’) thank, Dawnie, for letting me continue this, I feel honored you let me form part of it skldhfjksdjhskd and I’m tagging @healing-winston-pratt and @the-wee-woo-girl in this, because I know you really like the shell series and want to know what happens next! Thanks to you too for your nice comments, I love you so much, my friends <3 and I hope you love this part too as much as I love writing it.

It wasn't until several minutes passed after he heard Simon going upstairs that Hugh realized he had been sitting on the ground during all this time.

He held onto the kitchen counter and stood up with difficulty. As soon as he saw his own hand, he noticed it had small silver drops all over it, and they reminded him of the coffee sometimes they accidentally spilled when they grabbed their respective cups before heading out of the house.

They also reminded him of blood.

In fact, they were awfully similar to blood.

He passed his sleeve over it to clean it. Not only did that refuse to work, but now he also had a gray stain on his uniform

Fuck.

But before he could come up with something to do about it, Simon started walking downstairs, slower and clumsier than before, while struggling with some heavy object. He stayed completely still for a couple of seconds, deliberating about what he was supposed to do.

Should he go to see what was going on?

Should he go help him?

Should he go and ask him to stay for the last time?

He was fast enough to turn his back on Simon when he showed up on the kitchen door hiding the trail of chrome he had left with his body

During the ten seconds Simon stayed there, staring at him, Hugh kept his eyes on his hands, flatly refusing to look back at him because if he did, he would meet her eyes too.

And he wasn't willing to go through that again in front of Simon.

In front of anyone, really.

He should have never allowed his emotions to come out in such a grotesque and explosive way. He thought he had learned to keep his anger, but the last time he had snapped like that was as recent as Genissa's Clark threat, after he couldn't stand how the rest of the Renegades were looking at the Council—

How they were looking at him.

It had been a slip. A pretty serious slip and that should not have happened again. Much less in the magnitude with which it had just happened a few moments ago, with Simon.

Simon.

Of all people, it had been Simon.

The man who irradiated the the most powerful beam of kindness without even saying a single word. The one who was able to talk people out of their evil ways because he was convinced goodness was a crucial part of human nature and no one was beyond repair. The person he thought about each time the fire of his anger started to emerge in his throat, and whose smile, eyes, and voice were enough for Hugh to be able to control him.

But today it hadn’t.

It hadn't been enough.

Simon hadn't been able to make it better.

The fire had gotten out of his control, and now, there was nothing left but ashes.

Ashes of anger that now was reduced to shame.

When Hugh turned around, Simon was closing the door on his way out.

***

He stayed leaning against the kitchen bar for a good four hours before he received the first message asking him where he was.

It was from Tamaya.

She said they needed to talk.

About what? She didn’t specify. But it was probably about how they left her alone for hours when it was supposed to be just during their lunch break.

While he texted her he would be there in a minute, he couldn’t help but look at his sleeves, and immediately knew, he couldn’t go there wearing those clothes, so he went through the small closet where they kept their clean superhero suits in case they needed to change after a mission or something. When he opened the closet and realized it was empty, he remembered Simon had taken them to the Headquarters, because he thought it was better to keep them there, since it was where they were most of the time.

Hugh clenched his fists and, before he could make a hole through the wall or something, he sighed and decided to take a shower first.

Tamaya would be fine if he disappeared a couple of hours more.

Maybe Tamaya could bring him one…

But Tamaya was in charge of the Headquarters, so she was pretty busy at the moment. Evander would take hours to get there and ask for explanations he didn’t want to give him, and… to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure if he was in the right state of mind to ask Kasumi to do him a favor.

“If Adrian wants to see me—”

Then, he remembered Adrian.

He was still at the hospital with Max. And if his mental clock was correct, he needed to be with his team in exactly an hour so they could start patrolling.

After showering, he put on some civilian clothes and grabbed the keys he had left on the entrance table.

Simon’s keys weren’t there though.

He had taken his own car.

***

Adrian wasn’t at the waiting room like he had said he would, but that didn’t surprise Hugh. No, what actually surprised him was how empty the whole hospital looked. No nurse was attending the front desk, and the few doctors he could see were either running to get to the next patient or whispering something to their coworkers. When he started wandering through the hospital, looking for a familiar face he recognized from the ones who were involved in Max’s case to ask them if he had seen Adrian (and if he could pay a quick visit to Max to kiss him goodnight because he probably wouldn’t be able to go to the hospital again before his bedtime), he noticed a group of nurses consoling a crying one a couple of meters from there.

He didn’t recognize her from anywhere, so he didn’t even bother to ask her anything.

Also… what the hell, he could pay a quick visit to Max without asking for their permission first. He was Captain Chromium, even if he wasn’t wearing his uniform at that moment, but most importantly, he was Max’s dad. He wasn’t going to stay there and wait for them to get their shit together and start doing their job.

After taking the elevator to get to the floor where Max’s room was, he noticed two doctors standing right beside the door, arguing in a low voice. They didn’t even realize Hugh was there until he was right in front of them, about to ask them if they could move to let him enter the room.

One of them interrupted what the other was saying and immediately tried to stop Hugh.

“I’m sorry, sir, you cannot be here, it’s a quarantine—” when she made contact with him, she and the other doctor’s expressions changed completely.

He had seen the same face a thousand times after people realized who they were talking to.

In other circumstances, he would have tried to be nice about it, but at that moment, he didn’t have any energy left to tell them about his intentions.

He needed to kiss Max goodnight. And then, he needed to look for Adrian.

So when he carefully pushed them aside and walked into the room, he didn’t feel any guilt for acting like that.

What he did feel, was his blood freezing the instant his eyes laid on Max’s bed and saw it was completely empty.

The small smile he had just put on his face to greet his kid immediately disappeared.

“Where—”

“Your sons have left this hospital, Mr. Everhart,” the doctor blurted out. “Together.”

But that wasn’t what Hugh was going to ask.

“Doctor— Where’s my husband?”

I need to see my husband.

***

According to what the doctors told him while they took him to one of their offices, Adrian and Max had escaped the hospital forty minutes before Hugh arrived. They knew it had been that way since one of the nurses saw them and tried to stop them, but they somehow made her faint for a couple of minutes, and when she was able to turn on the alarm, they were already gone. The doctors who were in Max’s room when he arrived were the ones who found the note Adrian had left, a note where he assured Max was fine, with his brother, and that the Renegades had nothing to worry about.

But Hugh was worried. He was so worried he couldn’t even yell at the staff for being so negligent and letting a teenager and a kid— two kids, go under their noses. He was so worried, that when Simon barged into the office, also wearing his civilian clothes, he didn’t run to hug him like he had been craving all that time he had to sit down and think about the horrible things that may be happening to his sons in those instants, while he heard the doctors doing their absolute best not to look like complete idiots in front of him and failing miserably; instead, he stayed quiet and let him ask all the questions he wanted to ask, doing his best not to look at him, not even out of the corner of his eye.

The last straw for him was when, by accident, the crying nurse (who apparently worked in the maternity ward) entered, and broke again as soon as she saw them, assuring them that she would never let them get to the roof if she had known their true intentions.

He heard roof and he heard intentions. And he immediately came to the realization, that even though the doctors had told him the whole staff was looking for them everywhere, no one told him if they had already looked for them...

If they had already looked for them outside the building.

After murmuring some words to the nurse, Simon got out of there, running like a crazy man through the hospital, being followed by the two doctors, trying to stop him, so he wouldn’t make a scene in front of the other patients.

And Hugh, who immediately felt uncomfortable as soon as they left him alone with the sobbing woman, stood up and followed the sounds of the doctors' pleas.

He knew where Simon was going.

When he got there, Simon was leaning over the roof, while the doctors stayed under the door frame, with mortified faces.

Seconds later (which felt like hours), he stumbled back from the edge of the roof and sat down on the floor, sighing with relief.

It was more than enough for him to feel able to breathe normally again.

“Mr. Everhart—” the doctor said. “I think you should call your son.”

He agreed and let him know with a nod of his head. Then, he asked something about if they wanted to go to the office again, but Simon answered before him and told the doctor it was fine. Then, his co-worker grabbed him by the arm and told them they were going to give them their space. That time, none of them answered her. So they left without saying anything else.

It wasn’t like it mattered to him anyway. At that moment, the only one he wanted to hear was Simon’s voice.

Simon’s voice yelling at him. Crying. Cursing. It didn’t matter in what tone he was talking as long as he was able to hear him say his name.

Say something.

Anything.

Simon kept his head low but pointed at Hugh’s bracelet.

Call Adrian.

The bracelet rang on the other side of the line, and the more it did, and the more silent Simon stayed, the more Hugh’s worry started to vanish.

The wind took away the ashes of his anger, and let the fire start again.

As soon as Adrian picked up, he put him on speaker.

But he didn’t let him talk.

“Where is he?” he barked through the phone. “Adrian, what have you done?”

Simon slowly stood up, stumbling a little, and Adrian clicked his tongue. “So… you got the note?”

Oh, my—

“Yes, we got the note!” he yelled. “What’s going on? Where’s Max?”

“He’s somewhere safe,” Adrian responded immediately. “Trust me.”

He almost snorted. “Trust you? What does that even—”

Suddenly, Simon grabbed him by the arm and brought the bracelet closer to his face. “Adrian, we do trust you.” And he quickly added: “And we trust Max.”

Trust.

“But this is serious,” Simon continued. “We need to know where he is. You of all people should understand how dangerous it is for him to be alone out in the world.”

“He is not alone,” Adrian argued. “No other prodigies will be at risk, and he’s comfortable and secure, maybe even happy, which is more than we could ever say about putting him back in that quarantine.”

Simon opened his mouth but he couldn’t find any words to say. His grip started to get loose little by little until he let him go completely.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from Simon’s hands.

He wanted to hold them so bad.

“How did you even manage to get him out of the hospital?” Hugh asked Adrian. “Did you find the Vitality Charm?”

“No, Dad. But I— I borrowed one of the hazmat suits from HQ and put Max into it,” he explained. “The barrier protected me from his powers long enough to get him to where we needed to go.”

That was enough for Simon to come back to reality. Just that this time, he just got closer to the bracelet; he didn’t touch him at all. “A hazmat suit? And no one noticed a ten-year-old kid wandering down the corridors in a hazmat suit?” just after saying that sentence, he subtly gasped and groaned. “Invisibility. Right. You know, I forget that he has that one, too.”

For a second, Hugh thought he was talking to him. But when Adrian answered, he knew Simon was not. “You did give it to him, so technically, it’s kind of like you helped him escape.”

“Don’t get smart,” he snapped. “And he didn’t need to escape. He’s not a prisoner!”

“Wasn’t he?”

He didn’t wait for them to answer him. It was a rhetorical question.

Not like Hugh knew how he would answer that question.

“Look, I know you guys love him,” Adrian continued, “but I’m not letting you put him back in that quarantine, end of story. For now, he’s safe where he is until we find a more permanent solution.”

Simon turned away, covering his mouth with his hand, and looking at the sky.

Adrian— Adrian didn’t sound like his usual self.  In fact, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, the way his son was behaving reminded him a lot of a younger Adrian, who was just a little bit older than Max, entering into what would soon become his teen years, and liked to think all his parents did was making his life a living hell. Like when he asked Hugh to let him go to that Renegades Camp that was supposed to be only for the kids who were living in orphanages funded by the Council, or when he wanted Simon to get him a couple of new sneakers; in both situations, he received no for an answer, and proceeded to make a huge deal out of it, asking them why were they always trying to isolate him from other kids, or if they were poor again and would have to share a piece of bread between the three of them, like when they lived at Simon’s house.

Both of those situations were tantrums that Hugh could let slide. He let Adrian go to the camp that year (after a lot of consideration) and bought him the sneakers he wanted as his birthday present, even getting a little mad at Simon for not getting them when Adrian asked him to since it wasn’t like they didn’t have the money or something.

Even he could understand those situations were… things all kids went through at that age. It was a phase that Adrian outgrew.  

But that— that was not a phase.

That was not even a tantrum.

It was reckless and stupid, and dangerous.

And he was putting Max in danger. He was making Simon as worried as he had never seen him worried before.

And it was something Hugh could not let slide.

Not this time.

“No, Adrian,” Hugh said, “you are going to tell us where he is right this minute, so we can get him back to the hospital and make sure—”

But Adrian knew how to play that game too.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he interrupted. “For now, I’m late for a team meeting. Okay, guys? Love you, bye!”

And he hanged up.

And he didn't give them a chance to tell him they love him too.

But even if he had, Hugh knew he wouldn't say it back.

Just like that morning when they visited Nova at Cragmoor.

Before Hugh could even move, Simon left the roof, leaving him alone with those words echoing inside his head.

Trust me.

Hugh remembered he had trusted her. And, in a way, she had trusted him too.

And that was when everything started going downhill.

***

There was nothing Hugh could do at the hospital anymore. He encountered the doctors that had been informing them about the whole situation, and when he started telling them everything was fine and that they were able to locate their kids, they told them Mr. Westwood had already been there and notified them. They also promised everyone in the hospital was going to keep Max’s condition a secret and assure him no information was going to be leaked to the media to keep him safe. Hugh thanked them, but honestly, it was the least they could do.

When he went to the hospital’s parking lot, he looked for Simon’s car. Since he didn’t find it, he assumed he had gone to Kasumi’s house.

Hugh was going to return to Headquarters. To distract himself.

He entered through one of the back doors, so no one from the patrol units or the janitorial team saw him in his civilian clothes. He was lucky not to walk into someone while going through the corridors, but he didn’t feel safe until he entered his office and closed the door behind him.

And that feeling lasted… five seconds.

Because when he turned on the lights, Tamaya was sitting on top of his desk, with her legs crossed and drumming her fingers against the dark wood.

“Shit, Tamaya, why are you in my office?” he asked her with a hand on his chest.

She didn’t seem a little ashamed when she heard him scream. She didn’t even flinch.

“Shit, Hugh, why are you not in your office?” she asked him back.

She knew he didn’t like when people copied his exact words.

“Get off my desk,” he ordered her while walking towards it and sitting in his swivel leather chair. “You look super creepy waiting for me in the dark. Next time send a text”

Tamaya acted like she didn’t hear him. “I did,” she growled. “I did and you told me you were going to be here in a matter of minutes. What the hell happened there? What the hell was so important it made you think it was appropriate to leave me hanging here?”

Hugh opened one of the drawers (the bigger one) and found his uniform inside a plastic bag. It had a purple sticky note, and in permanent black sharpie, Simon had written his name with his wonderful, horrible calligraphy and drawn small hearts around it.

Hugh turned it into a small ball and threw it in the trash.

“Evander was here,” he reminded her as if she didn’t already know it. “I didn’t leave you hanging.”

“Evander doesn’t count. He’s asleep right now, actually.”

In Headquarters, they had a couple of rooms filled with beds, in case the patrol units needed to rest after a particularly long shift or wanted to take a nap before patrolling. For some reason, Evander liked to rest there, and if no one else was there, he even locked the door so no one was able to come in. Hugh thought it was very selfish of him to do that, but Evander assured him it was actually pretty comfortable (as if that was the problem he had with it) and Simon always told Hugh to let it go since it was something Evander only did after he finished his shift or was about to be up all night, just like the patrol units.

But he wasn’t going to let it go now. He decided that after putting on his uniform, he was going to kick the door down, grab him by the ankles, and throw him out of the bed.

Hugh closed the drawer. “Hey, I’m going to change my clothes, so—”

His lips sealed just as Tamaya put a hand on his shoulder.

Not like “I’m with you”.

More like…

“Move and I’m going to kick your ass.”

Hugh didn’t want to get his ass kicked that day.

“Answer. My. Question.” And she said it again. “What the fuck was so important it made you think it was appropriate to leave me hanging here?”

He tried to think of an excuse not to tell Tamaya the truth.

But, honestly, there wasn’t one. She was going to know all about it sooner or later.

“Max disappeared from the hospital.”

Tamaya let go of his shoulder and gasped. “What?—”

“Don’t worry,” he quickly added, “he’s fine, Adrian took him. Can I change now?” She sighed and then, she nodded. “Thanks. Hold the fort.”

Tamaya walked to the door and locked it, just to make sure no one was going to enter and see Captain Chromium, their boss, just wearing his underwear and trying to get into those tight leggings everyone had told him looked ridiculous since the moment he turned them into a crucial part of his superhero gear (and personality), but he kept wearing and will keep wearing until the day he died.

Hugh was going to hold on to that small piece of dignity he had left as if his life depended on it, because, maybe, just maybe, it kind of did.

So… one way to do it, was to make sure no one entered while he changed his clothes.

Tamaya could stay though. It would be stupid to put on an act of false modesty when Tamaya had seen all of them naked at some point in their lifes. However, the main difference between her and Evander, who had also seen everyone naked, was that Tamaya just remained quiet and closed the door almost as soon as she had opened it, while Evander started screaming so loud, that if they had had neighbors, they would have heard him say he had seen boobies (or a pee-pee, depending on the case) (he also hated the word pee pee thanks to that.)

Tamaya, respectful as she was, kept her eyes fixated on the ceiling. “So that’s why you were dressed up like that,” she mumbled. “I wouldn't change my clothes if my son went missing, either.”

That hadn’t exactly been the line of events, but what Tamaya didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “How dare you. I have an incredibly good sense of fashion.”

Hugh was wearing a t-shirt, a hoodie, and ratty jeans.

In his defense, he hadn't done laundry that week.

That wasn’t a great defense, but still.

“Yeah, sure,” she scoffed. “When you entered, I thought you were an intruder and was about to get all defensive and shit.”

“Well, you’re not the only one—” he put his civilian clothes in the plastic bag “—When I went to the hospital, no one really recognized me at first either.”

Tamaya slightly smiled and then crossed her arms against her chest. “What do you mean Adrian took him?” she asked.

He stopped what he was doing for a couple of seconds. “I mean that,” he finally said. “He took him. Adrian got Max out of the hospital, took him somewhere else, and refused to tell us where he is.”

“And where’s Adrian now?”

“Patrolling with his team.”

Patrolling with his team.

As if he hadn’t kidnapped his brother and put in danger dozens of prodigies in the process.

As if he hadn’t worried them as if he had done before, because apparently, he was still too young and immature to comprehend that Max’s situation was something neither of them wished for, but at the same time, was a lot more complicated than he thought it was.

As if nothing had happened.

Tamaya stayed in complete silence until he sat down and remembered, he didn’t bring the boots that he wore with the superhero suit.

Great.

Those shoes didn’t even match the leggings.

“And what did you tell him?”

“Nothing. He didn’t give me the chance.”

Maybe if he stayed behind his desk until he finished his responsibilities of the day, no one would notice. And he could always exit through the backdoor.

“That kid. He wasn’t like that— Adrian had never done something like this before. I’m— I’m honestly shocked by his behavior.”

“You tell me.”

But he didn’t want to. Yet. He didn’t want to go to his house.

Not like that.

Not alone.

“What are you going to tell Adrian?”

And Adrian.

Alone, and with Adrian.

“What am I going to tell him?”

Tamaya nodded, and a wave of possible answers flooded his head.

Adrian, you’re in big trouble.

Adrian, you’re grounded for the rest of your life.

Adrian, please tell me where Max is, I’m begging you.

Adrian, grow up.

Adrian, your dad is not coming back for a very long time.

Adrian.

Adrian.

Your mom—

“Nothing.”

Because there is nothing that could be said.

Tamaya raised her eyebrows. “Nothing?” she doubtfully asked.

“Nothing.”

“You can’t say nothing to him,” she objected, incredulous. “That’s just not healthy.”

Hugh pretended he was going through the pages of a document someone had left for him on his desk. As if he could read those tiny letters without his glasses.

As if he couldn’t go years without talking to people.

Or about them.

“Hugh. Hugh, are you lis—”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Huh?”

When he realized he was rolling his eyes, it was too late to stop. He just kept talking and hoped Tamaya didn’t gouge them out. “You told me before you needed to talk to me,” he explained.

“No, I said we needed to talk,” she corrected him pointing at him with a finger. She was wearing black nail polish.

You see? You remember perfectly.

“Well, in case you were wondering—” he opened the document and started reading it “—I’m listening. What’s the situation?”

Tamaya didn’t have time to react to his words. If she was going to scream, start talking about what she (she, because Hugh didn’t want to), or genuinely gouge his eyes out, no one, probably not even Tamaya herself, would ever know.

A loud banging, stifled voices, and a very familiar yell interrupted them all of the sudden.

“DAD!”

Hugh grasped tightly the pages of the document, while Tamaya grunted loudly and opened the door, her wings extended and bristly.

“WHAT?!”

The loud banging and stifled voices went silent. But the familiar yell didn’t fear Tamaya.

Because he was that reckless.

“Dad.”

Tamaya’s wings relaxed and she moved aside, letting Hugh see Adrian, still in his Renegade uniform, a little bit sweaty and dirty, like every time he came back from patrol. His team was sweaty and dirty too, but none of them had the same expression Adrian’s face had.

He seemed weird. Different.

He would dare to say he looked hopeful.

And the moments where they just stayed staring at each other, probably waiting for the other to make the first move, Hugh couldn’t figure out the reason why.  

***

Innocent.

She was innocent.

According to the Renegades, Nova Jean McLain was innocent.

They came to that resolution an hour and a half later.

When Adrian first told him Nova was innocent, he couldn’t understand what he was talking about, but Tamaya took control of the situation and immediately told Hugh to wake Evander up at the same time she told Adrian’s team to follow her.

Hugh didn’t kick the door down, but he did grab him by the ankles and made him wake up screaming.

Evander walked beside him, wearing a Blacklight t-shirt people sold at Cosmopolis Park and asking him questions about what was going on, but Hugh insisted he waited until the rest of them arrived because it was a delicate situation.

Extremely delicate.

So delicate, Hugh thought it would break like a roof made of glass and the sharp pieces would rain all over their heads, cutting their bodies like a piece of rotten fruit.

At the meeting room, Tamaya was talking to Kasumi over the phone they kept there in case of an emergency, and Adrian was gathered with his team. He was the only one who had bothered to pretend that he wasn’t worried at all because Oscar Silva and Ruby Tucker couldn’t stop throwing glances at each other, and Danna Bell shook her head every once in a while, saying something that sounded like “You’re making a mistake. You all are making a mistake.”

Oddly enough, he hoped she was right. He hoped Adrian and everyone who believed him was just making a mistake, so things wouldn’t get more complicated than they already were.

That was not going to look good for them.

Kasumi and Simon arrived ten minutes after Tamaya hung up the phone. Neither of them were wearing their uniforms or bothering to look at Hugh. Actually, Kasumi walked directly towards Tamaya to apparently ask her something (and Evander followed her because he was Evander), while Simon immediately went over Adrian, turned around the spinning chair he was sitting on, and hugged him, without caring a single bit about embarrassing in front of his team.

Adrian hugged him back. But then, he pulled him away to tell him he knew for a fact Nightmare was not Nova, but instead, Narcissa Cronin, Gene Cronin’s granddaughter.

Simon remained calm, and rubbing Adrian’s arms, told him that was a pretty serious accusation.

“But tell us all about it.”

And Adrian did. He and his team told them all about it.

Mostly him though.

He told them about them encountering Narcissa Cronin and that she explained her evil plans to them, in extreme detail. She planted evidence to make Nova seem guilty because, after the parade, she wanted to get the Renegades off her back, and Nova was the perfect person to incriminate for her crimes. She considered it her revenge against the Renegades for not doing anything when Ingrid Thompson shot the only family she had left, but after hearing a rumor of her execution, she realized she didn’t want Nova to die in the hands of the Renegades.

Not because she cared about her. She just had principles.

Or those were the words Adrian used, that made him question himself if he wanted to see her dead.

Because even when he gave Frostbite— or, Genissa Clark, permission to be the one to execute her, he still didn’t know if he did because he was sure it was the right thing…

Or because he was scared.

Which still— didn’t answer his question.  

Do you really want to see Nova McLain dead?

He wasn’t sure about it.

Tamaya, on the other hand, was.

She didn’t want to see Nova McLain dead.

And apparently, neither did Kasumi and Simon, because as soon as Adrian finished telling his side of the story, they immediately started talking about removing all charges that had been filed against her to get her out of Cragmoor as soon as possible. Evander tried to interrupt them and insisted that maybe they needed to hear the rest of the team (who had barely spoken through the entire conversation), as well as to go to the scene to look for clues. Danna Bell agreed with him and tried to take the word, but Tamaya stated they didn’t need to hear anything else, because the more they stayed there, listening, the more time an innocent girl stayed in prison. When Evander tried to argue again, Tamaya looked at Hugh, silently asking him to support her.

The five members of the Council knew the glass roof they had been standing under for God knows how much time, had shattered completely.  

The least Hugh could do was use his entire body to try to protect them from it.

So he agreed with Tamaya, and said, out loud, that Nova McLain was free of all charges.

Tucker and Silva smiled as soon as they heard him say that, and Bell just sighed. Adrian let out a “Yes!” under his breath and turned around to say, “Thank you.”

Evander just rolled his eyes and started playing with a pencil he found there, but Tamaya and Kasumi smiled at him, and Simon said, “No, Adrian, thank you.”

Before leaving the room with the rest of his team, Adrian cast a glance at Hugh.

But Hugh pretended he didn’t realize until Danna Bell told Adrian to keep going and he obeyed.

***

The Council stayed in the meeting room for a little while, to put all the cards on the table and make sure they understood each of the steps they had to take to get Nova McLain out of Cragmoor. Evander and Hugh were the only ones who didn’t participate in the conversation at all, but while Evander was doing it because he knew anything he had to say was going to be completely ignored and was mad about it, Hugh didn’t do it because he couldn’t take his eyes away from Simon.

Even if Simon wasn’t looking at him at all.

He talked with his hands. A lot. When they were teens, he remembered Simon constantly kept his hands in his pockets, especially when they were in public, so he wouldn’t draw any kind of attention to himself, and only dared to do it when he was at his house or very excited or sad about something. But now that he was an adult, he gesticulated even more, even during the most serious of conversations, with no shame at all. Hugh always had thought it was an adorable quirk of his, and being able to see him grow and embrace that part of himself (and get emotional when Kasumi pointed out Adrian was starting to talk with his hands too) felt like something very personal to him.

Every single thing that had to do with Simon felt so personal to him.

He wasn’t his other half. Hugh had once said that to him, and Simon confessed he found that “compliment” pretty problematic, and he couldn’t help but agree to him.  

Simon was more than that. It was something so much more important, so much, that the way he scratched his beard, raised his eyebrows, and looked at the ceiling to try to remember the word he wanted to say, made him realize how much he missed him already.

He missed him already; and he was right there, inches away from him.

Home.

Simon was his home.

And his house wouldn’t feel like it if he arrived there without him.

So when Tamaya dismissed all of them, he decided to make something about it.

That night, he would go back to his house with Simon— or he was not going back at all.

Adrian was leaning against the wall, waiting for them while playing with his keys. His team was nowhere to be seen, which was completely understandable considering how late  it was. As soon as he saw them walking through the door, he started to walk towards them, almost ignoring how Evander accidentally pushed him while trying to get out of there as soon as possible.

Then, he asked, “Are we going home now?”

And even if he was looking at Hugh when he said that, Hugh, instead of answering him, turned to see Simon. Not only because he knew that if he opened his mouth, the only thing that would come out of it would be… something not very nice about what he thought about Adrian’s behavior over the last hours; but also because, at that point, it all depended on what Simon had to say about it.

Even if he didn’t know it.

Simon.

Are we going home now, Simon?

But instead of answering the question, Simon smiled at him, and rubbing Adrian’s arms, told him, “I think Tamaya’s going to drop you at the house. You could do that, right?”

Tamaya and Kasumi were standing behind them. “Yeah, of course, I can.”

“Are you going to carry me in your arms and take me for a flight?”

“Funny. What about if you carry me, huh?”

“I can.”

“I cannot allow it though. It wouldn’t be very feminist of me.” Adrian laughed at her joke, and she pretended to act all cocky about it, brushing off her shoulders and trying not to smile. “Let’s go. Kasumi—”

“It’s all right. I arrived with Simon, my car’s here.”

Tamaya told her it was all right and then pointed at the elevator to tell Adrian they needed to get going. Both women started walking beside him, being slowly, but closely followed by Simon, letting Hugh standing where he was, probably waiting for him to follow them or—

Or maybe not.

But Hugh didn’t want to follow them.

He just wanted him.

“Simon—”

Adrian didn’t stop; the adults, however, did.

He was so happy, so relieved to see Simon turn around when he called his name, he didn’t even care that Tamaya and Kasumi also did it, with an expression on their faces he couldn’t tell what they meant.

That was enough for him to blur out his question.

“Can we talk?”

Simon slightly opened his mouth, but before saying anything, he turned to see his friends, for a reason Hugh didn’t understand (and didn’t bother to think about it).

Adrian called for the elevator, and realized, everyone was literally just standing there, without moving, and all their eyes were fixated on Simon. “Um… guys?”

Tamaya was the first one to come back to reality. “Wait for me in the car, Adrian, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He didn’t give it too much thought and nodded.

Simon still hadn’t said anything when Adrian left in the elevator. But now that his presence was gone, Hugh felt enough courage and serenity to— beg, he guessed.

“Please. Can we talk?”

Please. Please, please, please—

“Yes,” Simon said. “Yes, we can talk.”

He smiled. Just a little bit. Because Simon didn’t move towards him after he accepted. Instead, he stayed right where he was, as if he was in a line to get something from a store and if he moved, he was going to lose his place and the thing he had been waiting for hours to get.

After waiting for a good ten awkward seconds for Kasumi and Tamaya to keep walking, he realized they had no intention of doing so. And also, he realized that he didn’t want to talk with them either. Not at that moment.

At that moment, the only thing, the only person that mattered, was Simon.

“Could we… maybe go somewhere else more private?” he mumbled while scratching his eyebrow and trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls.

Simon clicked his tongue and glanced at Tamaya and Kasumi. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Or not.

The few instants they were walking towards the meeting room, Hugh looked at Simon’s hands, wondering when it would be the right moment to sneakily touch them, like he did when he was in love with him but still didn’t know it.

But Simon had his hands deep inside his pockets.

The only light that came into the room was the light of the few lightbulbs that illuminated the corridor; they turned off the majority of them during the night, not only because there weren't that many people around, but also to save electricity. Hugh entered first and Simon didn’t completely close the door behind him, only enough for no one to be able to see what they were doing in case some other Renegade was around there and walked past the room.

After that, Simon closed his eyes, grabbed tons of air, and then let it all go with a sigh. When he finally looked him in the eyes, Hugh realized it was the first time he did that after their fight in the kitchen.

And he realized all of that had happened in one day.

What a day. He bet they would remember it for the rest of their lives.

He hoped they wouldn’t. He hoped, and he hoped, even if his rational part told him it was not going to happen because memories didn’t work that way at all, but he kept hoping anyway, and started searching for the correct combination of words he needed for Simon to also forget about that day.

Hugh was willing to ignore everything they had gone through during that day. He would take Simon’s silence, words, and indifference, put it all inside a box, and then throw it at the back of his memories and never be opened again, if Simon was willing to do the same for Hugh’s cries, screams, and feelings.

He was even willing to let Simon stay mad at him for the rest of the night if that was what he needed. Yes, he could handle a night like that. He could be the one to stare at Simon’s back, for Simon to take a break from staring at his almost all the time they got into bed. He would do anything for him.

And he just wanted him to do one thing: to ignore everything that had just happened.

Forever.

While his mind was still trying to come up with how he was going to put all those thoughts into words, he caressed Simon’s cheek to buy himself a couple of extra seconds. But when Simon tensed and clenched his jaw, instead of tilting his head a little bit and putting his own hand over his, like he did every time Hugh touched his face like that, he knew there was nothing he couldn’t let more time go by.

Suddenly, his eyes were fixated on Simon’s lips. The same small, bitten, and dry lips he had contemplated for so many years, they felt like his own, and tasted like peppermint, a little bit of coffee, and sometimes even lavender.

When Simon opened them to speak, Hugh went from having absolutely no clue of what to do, to being absolutely sure of what he needed to do.

So he just did it.

He just placed his lips on top of Simon’s and kissed him.

At first, Simon didn't break the kiss. Instead, he went with the flow and kissed him back, as if he had been craving that kiss for months.

And he probably did. It was just that Hugh, suddenly, didn't.

Like. He thought he had. But now that he was there, with one hand holding Simon's head, and Simon's about to touch his hips, he started to feel like there was something very wrong with that situation.

But he was desperate. He wanted him back. He wanted him back and if that meant kissing him when he didn't feel like it, he was going to do it.

He would do everything for Simon.

He would never give up on him.

He just really wanted him to know that.

And really wanted to know if Simon hadn't given up on him either.

Simon kissed him one last time, raised his hands, put them on Hugh’s chest—

And pushed him away.

He pushed him away so suddenly, he tripped on his own feet and hit his head against the wall.

It didn't hurt though.

Still, the only thing he could answer to that, with Simon staring at him, realization dawning on his face, was a really fake:

“Ouch.”

Suddenly, Simon snapped. “What the fuck was that? Hugh, what the fuck was that?” he insisted. “Did you— do you really think that treating me as if I were a— a fucking animal, you're going to get something from me? Where do you think I have my brain? Huh? Where!?”

Hugh didn't respond. And Simon wasn't taking it. “Where?! Answer me! Where, where, where—”

Simon raised his hands above his head, and started pulling his own hair, hid his face with his arms, and just— broke down.

In a million pieces.

That was enough to make him flinch.

He preferred he pushed him again. Hell, Simon could slap him for kissing him without telling him he was going to do it first, and it would be much better than watching him suffer like that.

“Where, where—” he cried “—Stars, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for pushing you, it was— are you— I'm so sorry, lo—” and let out a loud sob.

Hugh kept gazing at his crying husband for a while.

“Do you really think that low of me?”

And kept pulling his hair. And his face remained hidden. His cries only became louder and louder, and Hugh didn't dare to move, much less to touch him, because even if he wanted with all his might to hold him and grabbed him by the wrists so he didn't continue hurting himself, he knew it would be useless.

Everything was useless.

“Stop that,” he finally dared to say.

He didn't say “No, I don't.”

He didn't say “Of course I don't think badly of you.”

He didn't even say he loved him.

He told him to stop.

Stop what?

“No, you stop!” Simon shrieked. “Stop whatever the hell you're doing, stop it. You're hurting me.”

Hurting.

You're hurting me.

He looked at his hands. Fortunately, they were completely dry and have not a single drop of chromium coming out of them.

But they felt as if they were on fire. And heavy.

Is that how they were supposed to feel when they were hurting someone?

And if they felt this heavy, and this hot, and this horrible, in how much heavy, hot, horrible pain could the other person be?

No, really: in how much?

How could you explain pain to someone who couldn't feel it?

“Why?”

And like an idiot, he asked back, “Why what?”

Simon removed his arms from his face and looked him dead in the eye for what he knew would be the last in time.

“Why do you have to make everything worse, Hugh?”

Hugh didn’t answer his question, and Simon didn’t answer his either.

A question he never got the chance to ask but was at the back of his mind.

Have you given up on me yet?

***

Hugh didn't come out of the meeting room until he was sure no one else was around. Until the elevator had gone and came back four times, and until his head felt so dizzy, he would faint if he didn't sit down.

He looked around, making sure nobody saw him, went to his office, and put a lock in the door. Hugh didn't want anyone to interrupt him. He had a lot of paperwork to do if he wanted to get Nova out of Cragmoor as soon as the sun came out.

***

It wasn’t the first time he had slept at his office. It had never been because he wanted to, but because he absolutely had to. Somedays, he would have so many responsibilities, that his normal working hours were not enough for him to finish them all. It was a little uncomfortable since the desk wasn’t the best place one could sleep on, and sometimes he didn’t have the energy to get up and go to Max’s quarantine room, to at least have the opportunity to sleep on a bed and an excuse to have a little more time with him.

Those nights, when he had to put his head on the desk and use his arms as a pillow, he would wake up and realized someone had put a blanket over his shoulders. And he always knew that someone had been Simon because the blanket smelled a little bit like him.

Even if Max’s quarantine area hadn’t been destroyed and he could go there to sleep, he wouldn’t have done it. Max wouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t be the same with him moving like he was possessed by a demon and kicking him in his sleep.

Which was something also Simon did.

The day Nova was released from prison, Simon stayed at Kasumi’s house. She didn’t comment anything about it and Tamaya had been the one who told him that the reason he didn’t come to work was that he had a headache. Hugh never asked her about it, but she informed him anyways. For some reason, he pretended not to be very concerned about it and just mumbled he hoped he felt better tomorrow.

When he woke up, after his second night of sleeping on his desk, he considered the crazy idea Kasumi and Evander had told him of getting sofas for each one of his offices; idea that he had brushed off because he thought they would only waste space, but now regretted he hadn’t listened to.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have an extra uniform for that day, so he just prayed the one he was wearing was clean enough for nobody to notice he hadn’t changed his clothes that morning, put on a lot of deodorant and cologne to hide the fact he hadn’t showered, and went out through one of the back doors, just to enter again a couple of minutes later through the front door, pretending he had just arrived from home and hadn’t stayed there all night.

As soon as he entered, he told Sampson if he could please notify him when Nova arrived at Headquarters. He didn’t ask for an explanation as to why he wanted that, but accepted anyway, clearly excited for having her back with them.

Hugh wasn’t… excited. Or happy, for that matter. Not that he wasn’t happy that she wasn't locked up anymore— of course he was happy she wasn’t locked up anymore.

What he was feeling reminded him more of when Simon, Evander, and he were playing a game they liked to call “Tag, you’re straight”, that consisted of the three of them throwing balls against a random wall at the same time, and then doing their best to dodge them while pushing the others so they get hit. Then, whoever got hit, would be smacked on the back of his head, and the other two would yell “Tag, you’re straight!”. It was a game he really liked and they kept playing even when they weren’t teens anymore, since in their family, bullying Evander was a great bonding activity, and “Tag, you’re straight” was the perfect opportunity to do so, especially because, as far as everyone knew, Evander was, in fact, straight, so that made everything ten times funnier when he got hit by a ball and got mad about it.

And yes, everything was fun and laughs, until Hugh broke a window, and a very angry Tamaya practically kicked the door down to ask them what the fuck had happened, yelling at the three of them for a good two or five minutes.

Even if Hugh had been the one who broke the window, everyone (even Kasumi, who was in the bathroom when the whole thing happened) helped clean up the mess and got cardboard to cover what now would be considered a hole in the wall, so the cold wind and dust wouldn't get in the house. It seemed like Tamaya had gotten a lot out of her system after yelling at them, because she chuckled at the jokes Evander and Simon made about the situation, saying that Hugh’s new power was turning straight everyone (and everything) he touched and that now the window was “one of them”. Hugh wanted to laugh too, but at the same time, he could only ask himself how she was going to react when she arrived home and realized what he had done.

And of course he wanted her to come home, as he always wanted every time she got out, to make sure she was still safe and sound, and so they could tell each other about their day and what they had done while the other wasn’t around. But now, he was also worried. And ashamed.

It was a combination of happiness, expectation, worry, and shame.

And he didn’t like it one bit.

So when Sampson let him know, after a while, Nova McLain was there, what he really heard, was Simon’s voice telling him she had arrived.

He knew it wasn’t the same person. But it felt pretty similar.

He made sure he didn’t look like a dead body before going to the first floor while making mental notes of what he was going to say to Nova.

Her situation had always been one that was pretty delicate, but now it had taken a new turn. A simple “I’m sorry”, with only those words, wouldn’t be enough for her, because it wouldn’t be enough for him either. He knew how Cragmoor was.

Hugh wanted— needed her to feel as if she belonged to the Renegades. Because, yeah, she did, but he knew that when she was back in her cell, she probably didn’t feel that way, and if he let this one slide, it would become a problem sooner or later.

Probably much more sooner than later.

It wasn’t like he was going to lie to her face or something; he just was going to point in the right direction. For her.

When the elevator doors finally opened, he spotted Nova surrounded by Adrian’s team (but no Adrian in sight). Silva and Tucker were smiling at her and touching her, but Bell, who was used to keep her hands to herself when it came to physical touch, just stayed there, watching her friends greet her without actually participating in the conversation that was happening in front of her. Actually, she was the first one to leave Nova alone after Silva said something about going out to eat (and Hugh could clearly listen to him because Silva didn’t know how to keep his voice down, so when he went to their house, he could hear everything he said to Adrian, even the most embarrassing parts), an invitation Nova rejected, even after they insisted her to got with them. Hugh decided to take that as an opportunity to talk to her.

Nova was a Renegade.

And the Renegades didn’t turn their backs on each other.

The feeling that he had just thought something pretty hypocrite started to creep at the back of his mind, when someone very small bumped against his chest, and before he could mumble a mechanic apology and keep walking, he realized that very small someone was Nova.

He had to think fast.

“Oops, sorry, Nova.”

He could call her Nova, right? Insomnia felt way too formal. And McLain seemed a little bit aggressive. Plus, she was Adrian’s girlfriend— or that was the last thing he had known about the topic. If they had broken up, Hugh would have probably received a memo or something. He didn't have Max or Simon with him to ask them about what they knew about it. They probably would tell him to go ask Adrian directly though, and that was something Hugh was not willing to do because he was still not talking to Adrian.

“Uh… hi,” Nova stammered.

Then, being completely aware he could break her hand’s bones if he grabbed her too hard, gave her a handshake as carefully as he could.

But still solid enough to show her he was being serious.

“I asked Sampson to let me know when you came in. I wanted to be one of the first to welcome you back to the team.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

He released her hand and stopped smiling.

The conversation couldn’t die there. He needed more.  

“And I wanted to offer you a formal apology for this abysmal misunderstanding,” he added. “I’m ashamed to think how we treated you, as one of our own, when your loyalty and dedication has been so unwavering. It’s just…” What was the word? “all this turmoil that’s been going on lately, you know? The parade, Cosmopolis Park, the attack on headquarters, Ace Anarchy… sometimes I feel like we’re jumping through hoops set on fire, and every one of them is a little bit smaller. If we don’t keep ahead of all the threats and dangers, then one of these days, the whole thing will go up in flames.”

That was a good analogy. And he had just come up with that one.

Apparently, Nova thought it had been a good analogy too, because she chuckled and said, “Well, good thing you’re invincible, at least.”

“Yeah, I might be,” he shrugged, “but there are people I care about that don’t have that luxury, and I’m just doing what I can to protect them. I hope you understand that we did what we had to do, given the circumstances.”

The circumstances, he thought.

Nova had people she loved. Adrian had mentioned she had an uncle before, as far as he could remember. She had proved to be pretty passionate about the things she cared about, and he bet that she would do anything to protect the only family she had left.

The circumstances didn’t matter. They never mattered as long as the people one loved were safe.

She would understand.

She had to understand.

And fortunately, she did.

“Of course,” Nova answered, with a smile on her lips.

“Good.” Good. Everything was working out as he wanted to. “Because you are a part of the Renegades family now,” and he added, feeling a little too inspired, “and it’s important to me and all the Council that everyone here feels like they’re being treated fairly.  That they are part of this team.”

You’re a Renegade, Nova.

And the Renegades don’t turn their backs on each other.

And as if Nova had listened to his thoughts, she lifted her chin and said, “I don’t blame you and the Council for what happened. You were given information and you had to act on it. I understand why you did what you did. But—”

Hugh had to use all his might not to growl or roll his eyes as soon as he heard that word.

He couldn’t appear too relieved because something was always going to get in the way.

“—I was surprised by the whole execution thing.”

Me too.

Honestly, me too.

“Yes…” he agreed, “it’s unfortunate that we… Well, I hate to think about what you went through.” Then, just to make sure the point was cleared, he quickly said, “But I am so glad it’s all worked out.”

Isn't it?

“Yes, it worked out for me, thankfully,” she answered, putting a lot of emphasis on “for me”, by slowing her voice “But I have to admit that I’d always wanted to believe the Renegades were, well, above capital punishment. To end someone’s life, giving them no possible chance for restitution, and to do it without even offering a fair trial, it seems—” she frowned and put her index finger in the space between her nose and her lips “—how do I say this? A little villainous.”

As soon as Hugh heard that, he chuckled.

Because telling her to stop talking back to him and go to her room was not an option, and he didn’t know what else to do.

“To be fair,” he mentioned, “we did believe you were Nightmare, and Nightmare did try to kill me.”

But most importantly, she tried to kill Max. And should probably go for Adrian and Simon next, if they didn’t stop her soon. Something he should be making sure they did, but couldn’t leave the conversation, because Nova still had a lot to say about the matter.

“I’m aware of that,” Nova agreed “but… don’t you think she would at least deserve another chance?”

During the whole conversation, he had tried to stay as impassive as possible, only showing the right amount of emotion on his features for him to be able to get his point across. However, he didn’t do a good job on that specific moment, because Nova’s tone quickly changed.

“Or, maybe not Nightmare, specifically,” she withdrew. “But think about it. I was in that prison—wrongfully, yes—but it still gave me time to think about my life and my choices, and to decide that, if I ever got out of there, I would do things differently. The Renegades have to be willing to look beyond the mistakes of the past and understand that people can change.” Nova shook her head. “And I’m not talking about the execution, either. I know you’ll never forgive Ace Anarchy for what he did, and maybe you’ll never forgive Nightmare, either—”

At least we can agree on that.

And the only reason they could agree on that, was because Hugh was hearing her words as if she were talking to him underwater, and instead of focusing on what she was saying, he could only focus on her gestures, her hands, and, for some reason, her eyes.

But weirdly enough, he only did it when she wasn’t looking in his.

“—But there are dozens of prodigies on that island, some who have been there for more than a decade. And yet—” she raised her finger “—we have no systems in place to see if they really are as dangerous as we think they are. To see if they deserve the punishment they’re receiving. Maybe some of them want to become useful citizens in this world;” she shrugged, “maybe some of them deserve that. But you want to strip their powers from them, without even giving them a chance to explain why they did the things they did or how they’ve changed in the years since. Many of them are still being persecuted for crimes they committed in the Age of Anarchy…” Nova clicked her tongue before asking, “I mean, didn’t you do anything during that time that you’re not proud of?”

Nova asking him something so directly made him realize his jaw had been clenched during the whole conversation with no apparent reason at all. Then, a lot of things he wasn’t proud of doing during the Age of Anarchy started to come to his mind, and he had to stop his brain from doing that, because if the memories kept running, they were going to get to a point of no return, and no one would like what they were going to see.

Because when he first did, something broke inside of him.

No. It didn’t break.

It died.

Something died.

“We did what we had to do to stop the villain gangs, to bring order and peace,” he answered. “We would do it again if we had to.”

He would do it again. Most of it.

Only most of it.

She arched an eyebrow. “Even if that meant doing things that you wouldn’t allow today as part of the Code Authority?”

He clenched his jaw again and pinched his lips, only that this time, he knew exactly why he had done it.

“Maybe some of those prisoners did things that were… justified, in some way,” Nova continued. “Maybe they stole things because there were no jobs back then. Maybe they fought against authority because authority abused and ostracized people like them. Maybe they would choose differently now, if we only gave them a chance.”

Give them another chance. Chances.

Nova seemed to be really interested in chances. But Hugh had learned that the world didn’t always give second chances to people, not even to those who deserve it the most, and the sooner Nova learned that, the less the world would hurt her.

He had to stop her right there before realization hit her in the face.

When his kids were little and did something wrong, he (or Simon) would kneel in front of them and make it clear why their behavior was wrong, so they knew exactly the reason they were being grounded. Now, Nova was not his kid, and especially, she wasn't exactly a kid anymore. But she was still young, and if he could do something to protect her, he would do it.

He couldn’t apply the same technique he applied with Adrian and Max. However, he could definitely show her the right path and hope she knew, it was for her own good.

And, again, she would understand.

She had to understand.

“Nova… I can tell you’re passionate about this,” he started, and clearly noticed how her jaw tensed too, “but… you have to understand that the people in that prison aren’t like you. You were innocent. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. While they are criminals and villains, practically savages some of them.”

But to his surprise—

Nova didn’t.

“How do you know?” she spatted. “How many of them have you talked to recently? Or for that matter, how many of them ever received a fair trial?”

Hugh sighed and took a look at his surroundings. There were a lot of Renegades around them, pretending to be on their own thing, but clearly listening to the entire conversation for who knows how long.

He couldn't scream at them. Not again.

Nova, on the other hand, was also looking around but didn't appear as angry as Hugh was.

Maybe because she couldn't understand the severity of the conversation they were having.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked her, lowering his voice. Nova returned his attention to him. “That we postpone the Agent N reveal until we can… what, interview them?” then, he added, scoffing, “Or should we devote our resources to gathering evidence from ten years ago, all so we can prove what we already know? They are villains,” Hugh reminded her.

And in response, she reminded him, “I’m not a villain. But that wasn’t going to stop you from executing me.”

Hugh didn't doubt Nova's innocence. At least, not anymore. But, when she said it that way, she sounded so convincing and so sure of her words, that he wondered why he had thought she was Nightmare in the first place.

“And no,” Nova continued, “I’m not suggesting you postpone the reveal for a while, I’m suggesting you postpone it indefinitely.”

He stepped back, feeling shocked by the determination in her voice.

And her audacity.

That audacity.

Simon always said that one shouldn't be quick to judge other people's actions because there was always a reason why they were acting like that. Within those words (and Simon, always Simon) in mind, Hugh thought that there had to be a reason behind her audacity, and it couldn't be the one he was starting to think it was.

Nova didn't flinch at his reaction and continued to talk as confidently as before. “In fact, I think you should destroy Agent N. All of it. Along with any possibility that it could ever be re-created.”

Maybe it was resentment.

Maybe those were her ideas about good and bad.

Maybe it was that she was scared of losing her powers herself.

So he went with that, and recited the exact words he had been thinking about since Genissa Clark had been neutralized, and that he had been saying to each Renegade that expressed that very same concern. “If this is about what happened to Frostbite and her team, it’s important for everyone to know that we are working to ensure the safety of all Renegades—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Nova interrupted him violently. “This isn’t about the patrol units or figuring out how to defend ourselves more efficiently or any of that” she clenched her fist, closed her eyes, and exclaimed, “The world doesn’t revolve around the Renegades!”

Suddenly, a shadow rose and turned into the familiar silhouette of the man who had used the exact same words years before Nova entered into his life.  

Hugh (and the rest of the world) would’ve been able to recognize his face on any occasion. At first, the only thing that made him less afraid of him was the knowledge that, at least, he didn't know how his face looked like, because he always hid it behind a mask and that made him have something to use against him that couldn't be used against Hugh.

Now, he knew how his face looked.

Now they could be… considered equals.

Even if Hugh had promised himself he would never let the power corrupt him the same way it had corrupted him.

He was better than him.

He would always be better than him.

But since no one could be better than him, Ace Anarchy's silhouette looked at him, raised an eyebrow,  and echoed, “The world doesn’t revolve around the Renegades. And the sooner Captain Chromium learns that, the less the world is going to hurt him and his cause.”

She shook her hands a little, but her eyes didn't open, and the shadow didn't disappear. “Isn’t it our responsibility to bridge the gaps between people?” she asked, more calmly than before. “To recognize that we all have to live in this world together? We need to start seeing other prodigies, not as villains, but as—” she blinked twice “—well, other human beings, who maybe aren’t so different from us after all. I want to believe that we can close this divide between us, but… Agent N isn’t the answer.”

Ace out his hands over Nova's shoulders.

“But that’s all the Anarchists have to say about the matter.”

And when their gazes locked, it hit him.

Someone was looking at him through Nova's eyes, and he immediately knew who it was because he recognized the feeling from when he looked at Adrian's and for those seconds he dared to do it, he didn't see his son, but her.

Through her eyes, he could see, for the split of a second, the man who had tried to stop Ace Anarchy even before they knew exactly how to do it. He saw the man who felt as if he had been a coward during all those years for staying by the Anarchist’s side, but in reality, was one of the best ones out of the bunch, because in the end, he had been able to have the courage to do what was right.

And she said that one cannot be brave who has no fear.

He wanted to get close to her. He wanted to kneel, grab her by the shoulders, and take a closer look at her, just to be completely sure he wasn't going crazy, because it for sure sounded crazy and maybe Hugh was indeed a little bit crazy, but he was also desperate enough to do all of those things he was thinking about just to get an answer once and for all.

But Ace's hands were still on her shoulders.

And she seemed so far.

And he feared it would happen again. Like when he saw Adrian's eyes, looking for her, just to realize she wasn't really there.

The Artino girl wasn't there either.

All the Artinos had been killed during that same night and nothing was going to bring them back.

“I know this is coming from a place of good intentions,” he stated. “I don’t expect you to understand the challenges facing our world of the difficult decision we’ve had to make, but I can assure you that none of our decisions have been made lightly.”

None of them.

Not a single one.

“I know that, but—”

“Everything the Council has done these past years has been in service to the people of this world who need our help, for protection and justice. I’m afraid this isn’t up for debate, Nova. Our decision regarding Agent N, and the fate of those villains, has already been decided.” But before Nova McLain could object, he sentenced, “And our decision is final.”

He turned his back on her before she could do it, and pretended he didn't notice she kept following him with her eyes until the elevator doors closed, and he leaned his back against the wall, doing his best not to start hyperventilating.

She didn't turn your back on you.

She didn't fail you.

She died.

She just died.

***

He stayed the rest of the morning inside his office after that, without (luckily) no one entering his office to ask him about anything. Not even Evander did it, and he had this horrible habit of just bursting into their offices to pretend he needed to seriously talk about something to ignore his own responsibilities. Hugh hated when he did that, so when he heard someone knocking on his door, he was ready to yell at Evander to get the hell out of his office, as if he were a seventeen-years-old teenager again, saying, “EVANDER, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” (only that this time, Evander wouldn’t be able to answer him with “WE SHARE THE ROOM, YOU CAPTAIN CU-”)

But Hugh didn’t have to yell anything, because it wasn’t Evander. It was Tamaya.

And whoever dared to yell at Tamaya could consider themselves a dead man.

“I’m going to get some take out for lunch,” she said, leaning against the door frame, “you want me to bring you something?”

Tamaya was the one who went out to get the others lunch each time they needed because she was able to fly to the coffee shop and get there a lot faster than any of them could. She didn’t seem to have a problem with it, even though she did have a lot of problems with a lot of things, and people taking advantage of her powers were one of them.

Maybe she liked to feel useful. Or maybe something she just needed to get out of there every once in a while.

“No, I’m fine,” he answered her.

“Oh, you brought something to eat then.”

“Of course.”

Tamaya wasn’t convinced by that answer.

“What did you bring?” she asked.

Without hesitation, Hugh opened one of his desk’s drawers. Fortunately, there was a can of soda that he didn’t know how had arrived there, but he was glad it did.

He took it out and showed it to her, pretending to be super proud of himself or something, and Tamaya rolled her eyes. “Well— if you don’t want anything, I won’t bring you anything.”

“That’s literally how things are supposed to work.”

She was about to leave when she remembered something. “Oh, by the way— Kasumi wants us to have lunch together.”

Hugh couldn’t help but growl. “Why?”

“Because she says so,” she answered him. “So take your… soda, and meet us at the dining room in half an hour.”

Hugh just went back to what he was doing and told her he was going to be there. Tamaya didn’t say anything else.

The Council didn’t eat at the cafeteria with the rest of the staff. They had a private dining room on the same floor their offices were. The cleaning staff never went there, because the six of them took turns to mop and sweep, and the main unspoken rule was “If you spill it, you clean it”. It was like when they lived all together in one house and had to work as a team to keep it clean, which Kasumi said was nice and brought her nice memories, but most of the time, Hugh thought it was a pain in the ass, since, obviously, sometimes people didn’t respect the unspoken rule, probably because they knew that someone else would be the one who would clean it anyways.

Just like when they lived together.

Only that, now, that someone was Hugh.

The dining room was mainly used by him and Simon. Sometimes Adrian went there to have lunch with them, but lately, he preferred to do it with his team. It wasn’t very common for the Council to eat together, because each one had their own schedule. He didn’t know why Kasumi suddenly wanted to do it and he thought it was a little bit annoying she didn’t take into consideration that maybe the rest of them had other things to do, but at the same time, couldn’t find a good reason for him to say no.

When the half an hour Tamaya said went by, he walked to the dining room and saw Kasumi for the first time that day.

She didn’t greet him or anything. Evander was with her, chattering about something that he didn’t comprehend, and didn’t want to know about, so he sat down on one of the chairs and completely ignored their conversation until Tamaya appeared uncomfortably sitting down in the chair beside him.

She didn’t bring him anything. Anything at all.

And, well… yes, Hugh had told her he didn’t want anything; but he always told her he didn’t want anything and she brought him something anyway. When one of them forgot their lunch, Tamaya bought them a sandwich or a sushi roll and basically stayed there until they finished the whole thing, and since Hugh was the one who forgot about his basic human needs the most, he had a lot of recent memories of Tamaya watching him eat, like a mother making sure her kid eat all his vegetables (which turned even more accurate when Hugh informed her he didn’t like green peppers and she told him to grow the fuck up and eat the damn thing.)

The next thing he knew, was that everyone was sitting at the table, eating their respective lunch in complete silence. Tamaya had bought a gyro, Kasumi was having a bowl of rice and pasta salad she had brought from home and was drinking a white milky beverage that Evander got for her when he went to the taco stand Oscar Silva and Adrian had told him about.

“You know how many calories are on those things?” Hugh asked Evander.

Evander looked at him and pointed at the soda he was drinking. “Is that all you’re having for lunch?”

He remained silenced for a little. “No…”

Tamaya rolled her eyes and Evander scoffed. “Evander, chips and soda do not count as lunch, eat grapes, grapes are the chips of nature,” he said in a ridiculous voice that intended to sound like Hugh’s (and didn’t). Kasumi snorted and tried to hide it by drinking some of her weird water/milk, but wasn’t able to. “Come on, Kasumi, make the Hugh voice,” Evander told her.

Don’t you dare.

Kasumi didn’t dare.

“Maybe later, Vandy,” she said, with a serious face. “Maybe later.”

“Come on!” he insisted, after taking a sip of his drink (the same he brought Kasumi). “Zoomie, you make a pretty good imitation of Hugh.”

Tamaya nodded. It was true; Kasumi was pretty good at imitating voices. He just wasn’t in the mood to hear them make fun of him.

Luckily, Kasumi wasn’t in the mood for that either. “Evander, I said no.”

Her voice was so severe and chilling, that Evander understood immediately. Tamaya asked him for a napkin, and the whole dining room fell silent again.

And it was also like when they lived together.

It hadn’t always been like that though.

“You know, this is the first time in, like, five years, I don't have any paperwork to fill,” Evander announced.

Literally nobody asked.

“Well, I do have tons of paperwork waiting for me on my desk,” Tamaya said, “I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”

“That’s low, dude, I’m telling—” he frowned and looked around “—Wait… where’s Simon?”

And with that simple question, the room’s silence turned into a completely different type of silence.

One that he could not only feel, but also touch. One that made his vision blurry, a lump in his throat, and his eyes water. One that it was more like a fog than silence.

One that he could tell came from an imaginary fire that was so dangerous, he always shared a look with someone to make sure they were also aware of the situation they were in.

Only that this time, he didn’t share a look with anyone.

Tamaya and Kasumi did though.

And then, they turned to see Hugh.

But he didn’t turn to see them back.

“He wasn’t feeling well,” Kasumi said. “So… he stayed home.”

Evander arched his eyebrows. “Huh. Again?—” he turned to see Hugh “—Does he have a cold?”

“Evander—” Tamaya said.

“What? Dude, I’m literally just asking.”

“Well, don’t ask,” Hugh blurted out. “It’s not of your business.”

“But—”

“Not of your business,” then, he echoed, mockingly, “Dude.”

It’s not of anyone’s business.

He pretended he finished his soda and threw it in the can that was beside the water cooler close to the door. Even though the rest of them had just started eating, he saw no point in staying there longer than he already had. He had done enough by just being there for a while.

And he had other things to do.

Hugh excused himself and stood up. Neither Kasumi nor Tamaya said anything to him and just kept eating their lunches, probably because they already knew there was nothing that could be said.

But Evander didn’t know that.

So, before Hugh walked through the door, he said loud and clear:

“Someone didn’t get it last night.”

Kasumi got all pale and Tamaya started choking with her gyro. When they were able to recover from the initial shock, they cast an expecting and preoccupied glance at Hugh, waiting for his reaction for what felt like hours, and not seconds.

It took him a lot of time to process those words. He considered himself someone who reacted pretty quickly to everything, but the words Evander said to him were like freezing water, or a blow to the face, or…

Those things that would never be able to hurt him, but for some reason, if they were cold or powerful enough, would disorient him for a couple of seconds, before he would be able to get back up again and do something about it.

So at that moment, the only way he could react was asking him:

“What did you say to me?”

Evander raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I said you didn’t get it. You know”

But everyone pretended to not know what he was talking about.

Seeing they didn't react the way he expected them to, he frowned and clicked his tongue. “You didn’t tap that ass. You didn’t do the PP. He didn’t rub your silver spe—”

Kasumi got all red. “Evander—”

“I’m explaining it to him, I’m explaining it to him,” he told her as if trying to calm her down. “Let me finish the last one, I’ve been wanting to say that joke for months.”

Tamaya left her gyro on the plate and massaged her temple. “Evander, seriously, shut the fu—”

“Wait, no, I got this—” he chuckled, put his elbows on the table, closed his eyes “—Your hubby didn’t make love to you last night?” And then, after opening his eyes again, he added, “Darling.”

And with that, Hugh lost his head.

He went there.

He really went there, and the worst part was, he probably didn't even realize that.

He closed the door violently and screamed, “THAT'S IT.”

He threw himself at Evander before he could process what was happening. But Tamaya and Kasumi were a lot faster than him, and swiftly got in between the two of them, Tamaya grabbing Hugh by the shoulders and pulling him back, and Kasumi pushing Evander out of his way.

“BRO, WHAT THE—”

“I SAID IT’S NOT OF YOUR BUSINESS,” he yelled. “IT’S NOT OF ANYONE’S BUSINESS”

Tamaya and Kasumi finally managed to put them behind each of them, creating a weird barrier between the two. And even if they were almost as tall as the two of them were, they still weren't tall enough to completely block each other from the other's view. Hugh could perfectly see Evander paralyzed by his reaction, almost tripping with his own feet because of how much Kasumi kept pushing him and having to hold all of his weight on a chair to not fall backward.

But that still wasn't enough to stop him from shitting on him.

“WHAT’S YOUR DAMAGE!? DID YOU FALL OFF THE BED!? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.”

“Evander, lower your voice,” Kasumi urged him, “people will hear you.”

“Tell him to lower his voice!” he answered pointing at Hugh with the palm of his hand. “He started it! HE’S THE ONE WHO'S ACTING LIKE A FUCKING LUNATIC!”

Kasumi didn't agree with him directly. Instead, she turned around, looked at him from head to toe, slightly closing her eyes and pressing her lips, and before she even opened her mouth, he already knew he didn't want to listen to anything she had to say.

She hadn't listened to him first.

But now she was going to.

Everyone there was going to hear him.

“Hugh, I think—”

“Why did you tell him?” he asked.

Evander frowned even more. “Huh? Tell me what?”

But Kasumi barely moved.

“Why did you have to run to Evander and tell him about my personal life?” he kept asking her. “No, the real question is,” he scoffed, “why do you feel the necessity to get in my personal life, Kasumi?!”

Now it was Evander the one who carefully pushed Kasumi aside and put her behind him, but before he could scream at him or punch him in the face, knowing perfectly well that wouldn't do anything, Tamaya put his whole arm in front of him, giving him a deathly look, and Kasumi slightly touched his shoulder, completely poker-faced.

And for some reason that made him even angrier.

She had no right to act like she was the sane one in the situation.

“It’s not only your personal life,” she explained to him in a calm voice. “It’s also Simon’s. And I’m not getting into your personal life, he was the one who told us what was going on.”

“Us,” he echoed.

Tamaya let her arms down to her sides. “Yeah. Us. He told us everything.”

Evander didn't take her distraction as an opportunity to punch Hugh. “Everything?” he asked instead.

“Everything,” Hugh repeated.

But he wasn't answering Evander's question.

“Yeah, that’s great,” he said, faking a smile. “That’s fucking great. He went with you and talked shit about me behind my back.” The words were coming out of his mouth before he could question them, “What a great fucking husband he—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Kasumi ordered him, giving a step forward. “He wasn’t talking shit about you, he was worried. Simon was worried sick about you. He is worried sick about you.”

“Why— why is he worried about him?”

Everyone ignored him one more time.

Hugh crossed his arms. “Well, he doesn’t seem like it.”

Tamaya massaged her temple one more time and sighed. “Maybe if you—”

“Maybe if I do what?” he interrupted. “Should I make the first move? I already tried it, and it didn’t work.” He tried to scoff one more time, but what came out of him sounded more like a growl. “You should know; Simon must have told you.”

“When—”

“Yes, he did,” Kasumi answered, shameless. She crossed her arms too and frowned. “That wasn’t right, Hugh.”

What do you know?

You weren’t there.

No one was there.

“No, everything was going fine.” He clenched his fists. “Look, I don’t know what Simon made you think, but we were fine.”

“Not kissing your husband for weeks and then trying to do it just to avoid talking with him about the issue doesn’t sound fine to me.”

Evander gasped. “Wait, you actually haven’t been getting it—”

Hugh laughed out loud, and even he could notice he sounded like an absolute maniac. “You too? You too are going to pull that card on me?” he questioned her. “I do kiss him, and I do hug him, and we do have sex, and I shouldn’t be telling you any of these things, because these are private details of my life you shouldn’t know about! My private life is completely okay.”

Tamaya took him by surprise.

“But are you okay?”

Her voice sounded so soft, so calm, and so genuinely concerned, that he didn’t dare to lie to her, or to even look at her when he answered:

“Again. Not of your business.”

After that, Tamaya was herself again. “Hugh, listen—”

And Hugh managed to get the courage to lift his face. “No, you lis—”

The entire room went dark before Hugh could finish talking. A pair of blinding white lights started shining right in front of him, and, even with his eyes slightly closed, he could tell they were coming out of Evander’s fists.

The spotlight wasn’t on him at that moment. So he decided to steal it.

Classic Blacklight.

Classic Evander Wade throwing a fucking fit when the world dared not to revolve around him for a minute.

After making sure he had grabbed everyone's attention, he opened his hands again and the tiny balls of lights returned to their light bulbs. But his face was still clouded by a strange darkness that even made Kasumi flinch and move backward towards Tamaya.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, clenching his teeth and glaring at the three of them. “What the hell are you even talking about?—” and then, he turned to see him “—Why does everyone seem to know what the fucking problem is except me!?”

“…and she left me here!

ME!”

Him.

It was always him.

It hadn’t been enough for Evander that their lives practically had to revolve around him during all his childhood and teenage years. He now wanted them to stop their discussion and tell him what was going on as if they couldn’t have their own problems without him feeling he was entitled to know every single detail about it.

And hadn’t that been how that whole fight had started in the first place?

He hadn’t been able to control Tamaya and Kasumi finding out about what was going on because Simon had told him. But Hugh wasn’t Simon, and he was sure as hell he didn’t feel comfortable at all sharing that part of his life with him.

He wouldn’t understand. He would pretend he did for a couple of minutes, and then would use it against him on the first opportunity he had that would benefit him one way or another.

He knew Evander. He knew he was capable of that, and more.

“I think you should leave,” he told him.

His expression hardened. “I think you should answer my question.”

“I told you to leave!”

Hugh raised his arm to point at the door—

And Evander grabbed him by the wrist.

Kasumi’s eyes widened and Tamaya’s face contorted while her wings bristled, alerting her of the danger.

Hugh knew Evander was taller than him. At first, all of them made a lot of jokes about how it was Hugh’s worst fear and that he wasn’t allowed to stand beside him at any moment so nobody noticed it. But every one of those comments stayed like that.

Jokes.

Not only because, well, they were. But also because, inside his head, Hugh always saw Evander as shorter than him, probably because he had gotten used to the idea of things being that way, and he wasn’t in the mood for other detail of his life changing again, it didn’t matter how small it may seem.

Yet, now he couldn’t keep pretending he didn’t see what was right in front of him.

He could tell his hands were getting warmer and warmer, to a point that if he had normal skin and his suit wasn’t covering his arm, he would start to feel as if they were burning him, and Evander didn’t appear to have any intentions of letting him go.

As if he wanted to burn him to death.

He kept staring at each other, with a vein popping out of his neck. The corners of his lips curved up, but before it could turn into a grin, it disappeared, and instead of laughing, he ordered, “Don’t you talk to me like that.”

“Me.

She left me here, guys.

She left.”

“Evander, that’s enough,” Tamaya said, with a calm, but terrifying tone. “Let him go.”

But Evander only grasped him tighter.

Her fingers shone with the electricity they carried. “Let. Him. Go.”

He glanced at Tamaya, then at Kasumi, and finally, he returned his attention to Hugh, waiting.

Waiting for him to say it.

“She left.”

“Let me go.”

Evander pressed his lips together and lost his grip until his arm fell, and he sat down again.

“And for the record—” Kasumi’s voice said, “—Don’t talk to any of us like that.”

Hugh turned his back at them and took off one of his gloves as fast and discreetly as he could. He heard Kasumi asking something to Evander but she said it in such a low voice that the only thing he could actually listen was Evander’s childhood nickname, which Kasumi always used and Hugh didn’t because it felt so personal to both of them he didn’t dare to interfere with that.

His hands were dry. And he forced his eyes to stay that way too because he could sense them getting wet at the thought of Evander really believing Hugh was going to hit him.

He heard Tamaya’s footsteps getting closer to him, and he rapidly put his glove back on and turned to see them again, scoffing. “So, that’s what today is about? You collectively decided all you were going to do was contradict me?”

Tamaya stepped back the steps she took and scoffed too. “Sounds familiar?” she asked. Hugh couldn’t ask her at first what she was talking about. “You can’t ask us to blindly follow you b and get mad when we decide not to do it. Especially when the things you’re doing are—” she looked for the right words “—not right.”

Kasumi straightened her back and nodded, agreeing with Tamaya. Evander tilted his head to one side while raising one eyebrow, and Hugh fought the impulse of doing it too.

“What?” he asked instead. “Tamaya, what are—”

“I’m talking about the fucking execution of Nova McLain,” she blurred out. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Evander growled and put his feet on the table, leaning in the chair he was sat on. He was so confused by Tamaya’s reaction he didn’t even bother to take the time to tell Evander to sit like an adult for once in his life.

“What does that have anything to do with what we’re discussing right now?” he exclaimed.

“It has everything to do with what we’re discussing right now!” she answered. “You, and you—” she pointed at Evander, and Evander pointed at himself, confused “—decided that, since you were too afraid of a spoiled girl ‘ruining’—” she made quotes in the air “—our reputation we were going to let her kill, in front the entire city, a child. A child, guys! A child who probably had parents who worried about her, just like you, Hugh, worry about your kids, or you, Evander, will worry about yours when they are born. Would you like them to be publicly executed without a proper trial just because the adults that were supposed to protect them, acted as the children in the situation?”

But before Hugh could tell her his kids would never act like Nightmare, more than comfortable with the idea of pretending as if the whole Max and Adrian situation hadn't happened, he heard it again.

But this time it was not a quiet chuckle.

This time, Evander was shamelessly chucking so loud, it almost sounded like a burst of laughter.

Tamaya was talking about Nova McLain’s situation and Evander was chuckling.

“Child?” he asked, trying to contain his laughs. “Nightmare is not a child. Children do not do the things she did. Children don’t try to overthrow—” he turned his hands into fists and glanced up to the ceiling for a couple of seconds, and then added, to no one in particular “—Children do not try to kill other children. She wouldn’t have tried to kill Max, or Adrian, or his team if she were truly a child because she would see herself in them. That’s just how things work.”

Inside his head, maybe.

But Evander had a lot of things inside his head and most of them were so twisted Hugh couldn’t tell what he truly believed and what he did not.

“Genissa Clark is nineteen,” Tamaya reminded him. “And Nightmare, as far as we know, it’s sixteen. They’re still children.”

Evander rolled his eyes, smirking for a microsecond. “Age doesn’t matter. What matters is this—” he tapped his temple “—the head.”

Out twisted and merciless heads.

“If they act like adults, they deserve to be treated as adults.”

“No,” Kasumi said, playing with her fingers. “No, they don’t deserve that. They don’t deserve anything that happened to them. Children…” she raised her head “children are never to blame.”

But, instead of looking back at her, Evander rolled his eyes once more and crossed his arms.

Like the child he still was even if he always acted he was not.

“They may not be kids anymore, but, stars, you’re acting like one,” Hugh quipped.

He immediately put his feet on the floor and his jaw clenched. “I’m no longer nine years old, Hugh.”

Yes.

Yes, you are.

You’ve done nothing to prove me wrong.

Hugh didn’t have the opportunity to say anything though, because Kasumi put herself between Hugh and Evander once again, with her hands in her hips, and clearly said, “I wasn’t going to attend the execution.”

He froze. “You what?”

“Neither was I,” seconded Tamaya.

Hugh gazed at them, without being able to recognize their faces behind that proud expression they had all over them. “Why the fuck not?”

Kasumi scowled and rubbed the fingers of her right hand as if she wanted to snap them but didn’t, closing her eyes and keeping her head low. Tamaya instantly noticed that, and after throwing a quick attentive glance at her, her eyes bared into him.

“Because it was a monstrous and villainous thing to do,” she answered, barely opening her lips. “And the Renegades are not that.” She put her hand on her chest. “I’m not a villain, and I’m sure as hell I’m not a monster either. And I’ve spent too much time hating myself to let you or anyone allow those toxic thoughts to win.”

He looked over Tamaya’s shoulder to have a clearer vision of Kasumi. “And you? You agree with this?”

“Leave her her alo—”

“Yes, I agree,” Kasumi answered, without opening her eyes.

That was enough for him.

“So— are you insinuating I am a monster and a villain?” and he put his hand on his chest, the same way Tamaya had just done.

Kasumi stopped rubbing her fingers and saw him out of the corner of her eye.

“Take it as you want to take it,” Tamaya declared, crossing her arms. “I’m not surprised you’re trying to make it about yourself.”

“You know what? Yes!” he barked. “This is about me! I’m the one who's getting totally dragged right now, I’m the one you're criticizing, and I’m the one who’s getting attacked by all of you!” and he pointed at the three of them. “So yeah, this is about me, Tamaya, not about you!”

As soon as he said it, he knew what was coming next. He knew what Tamaya was going to do. She was going to spread her wings, close her fists, and get a lighting bolt for her to throw at him. Then, she would get so close to him, he would see the anger glowing in her eyes, and she would proceed to yell at Hugh for five minutes nonstop, and when Kasumi or Evander was able to make her keep quiet for an instant, he would start yelling back at her, and they would get trapped in an endless cycle, where neither of them knew when to shut their mouths and give up.

And he knew it because there had been times where the only thing the two of them did was fight, and yell, and try to silence the other by making sure one’s screams were louder than the other’s.

However, Tamaya didn’t do any of that.

Tamaya’s mouth fell open and was unable to say a single word while she stepped back, and leaned against the table because she wasn’t able to sit in a chair without feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Her silence was worse than her screaming.

He needed to fill the silence in one way or another.

“Why won’t you listen to me anymore?” he asked the rest. “Why don't you respect me, or my privacy, or my decisions? Do you think it’s easy? Do you think it’s easy to have this weight on my shoulders?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “No, it’s not. But I man up, I shut my mouth, and do it, you know why? Because we stopped playing superheroes a long time ago, and now we’re governors, and I don’t want us to fail, which is something the Anarchists would love to see—” he extended his arms, like pointing at the rest of the world, when in reality, he was just pointing at the small room that seemed even smaller than before “—Tell me, do you want us to fail?”

This time, he did want an answer. He did give them the time to respond, but they didn’t take it. Tamaya stayed in complete silence, Kasumi started rubbing her fingers again, and Evander just turned redder and redder with each word he said.

“Do you want us to fail?!” he insisted. “DO YOU?!”

Still, no answers.

“You don’t, do you?! YOU DON’T!”

Silence.

Silence and Kasumi covering her ear with her fists.

“YOU DON’T! So—” he pointed at Evander, “—man up—” at Tamaya, “shut your mouth—” at Kasumi, “and listen to me!” And finally, at himself. “Because I am your leader! I AM YOUR CAPTAIN! AND YOU’LL DO AS I SAY!”

His yelling immediately was cut short by the sound of the tap of the water turning on savagely and the screeching sound of Kasumi asking:

“WELL, WHO MADE YOU CAPTAIN?!”

The water in the room started to go crazy. Not only the taps had opened, but also her drink was spilled all over the floor, small drops started to float around them, and the water inside the cooler became a strange swirl, that with each passing second just turned faster and faster.

And Kasumi was crying.

Or something like that.

It was water. They seemed like tears, but they were actually water that was coming out of her eyes, without any emotions in them. Her face, which at this point was soaked, didn’t change at all, as if it had changed if she were really crying.

Still, Hugh felt it like a slap across his face.

Evander was the first one to react. “Kasumi—”

“WHO MADE YOU OUR LEADER?!” she rasped. “WHO, HUGH?” and she grabbed him by the shoulders “WHO?”

The floor started to flood. Tamaya got on the table and moved her eyes from one side of the room to the other, trying to process what was going on in front of her, while Evander stood up in the chair he was sitting on. “Kasumi Hasegawa—”

“IT WAS US!” she answered, letting go of him and stepping back. “IT WAS US AND WE CAN TAKE YOU OFF THAT POSITION AS EASY AS WE PUT YOU THERE! SO CUT. THE. CRAP!”

“Zoomie!”

The cooler felt down on its side. If Tamaya hadn’t moved slightly to the left, it would have hit one of her wings. The sound of the heavy metallic object crashing against the floor was enough to make everyone in the room go quiet, and their eyes fixated on the water that was coming out of it.

Like blood in an open wound.

He was the last one to come back to reality, after the water started to disappear right in front of his eyes, and realized Kasumi was manipulating it to form a small wave that she dropped in the sink.

She closed the taps and sighed.

“You’re… you’re not acting like a leader right now,” she mumbled, leaning against the sink without looking at him. “You’re… you’re acting like… like—”

“Like what?” he asked.

As if he wanted to hear the answer to it.

“I don’t know— You’re just…” Kasumi turned around and the water running down her face was actual tears this time. There was no sadness clouding her features that was able to hide that fact. “You’re just not my friend.”

She looked at her own feet while walking towards her the things that remained on the floor. Tamaya grabbed the plastic cup of water she had been drinking from, and even though she took it (because Kasumi liked to reuse those things) she didn’t say thank you or acknowledge her gesture, and instead, kept talking to Hugh.

“We’re not your sidekicks. We’re not even your coworkers or your employees. We are your family. We are all a family. But somehow— you forgot it.”

She grabbed her small fabric bag and started to put all her things in there, with the rest of them quietly watching her, without daring to get close.

“I’m going to ask the three of you, but especially you, Hugh, to leave me alone.”

Before Kasumi left the room, Evander got down from the chair and rushed to her. She stopped in her tracks and pressed her bag against her chest. A small tear started to come out of the corner of her eye and her lower lip trembled. He extended his hand to wipe away her tears, and Hugh suddenly felt the urge to look away.

Until Kasumi stepped back, rubbed her eyes with one hand, and mumbled: “I said the three of you. Please, respect my decision, Evander.”

Kasumi walked out of the room, without closing the door behind her. Evander followed her, but stopped right under the door frame, grabbing to it. He glanced at Tamaya, and she, almost imperceptibly, shook her head saying no to something he was silently asking her.

His eyes didn’t well up. Instead, after a blink, they turned to see Hugh, burning and glimmering an emotion he could not describe as something else but hate.

His eyes were burning and glimmering with hate.

And his words too.

“This is all your fault.”

He walked in the opposite direction Kasumi went.

I know.

This is all my fault.

“Kasumi was right, you know?”

Tamaya was the only one remaining.

“You have acted like the biggest idiot that has ever existed,” she continued. “I don’t know how you’re going to fix this and I don’t know how you’re going to fix yourself.” Her expression dulled and she slightly bent down to try to look him in the eye. “But we are your family. And you are ours.”

Hugh ignored her attempts to make eye contact and felt his hands getting moist and hot under his gloves.

But he couldn’t decide if tell her or not, because Tamaya sighed, grabbed the rest of her lunch, and without turning to see him, sentenced:

“Talk to us when you start acting like it.”

And just like that, Hugh was left alone in an empty room, again.

***

Everything had started two months ago.

It wasn’t like there weren’t somedays where they didn’t have sex. After all, they were part of the Renegades Council. The days were long, and there were occasions when they just arrived at the house and went directly to bed, without eating dinner or anything.

Despite that, they had managed to keep a certain schedule. And if he wanted to be completely honest, those days when he could have a little time alone with Simon were the best.

Until they weren’t.

“What’s going on?” Simon asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“What’s going on?” Simon asked again.

He wasn’t mad at all. He was genuinely concerned.

It was… adorable. So Simon.

“Everything all right?”

Hugh knew something was wrong. But he felt a little bit embarrassed about backing down with something he had started.

Which was… weird.

Because nothing was embarrassing with Simon.

“Hugh—”

“I think I’m no longer in the mood to keep going,” he blurred out.

Simon’s eyes widened. He licked his lips, like he did every time he was analyzing a situation, and smirked. “You aren’t in the mood? You? You, Hugh Everhart, aren't in the mood for sex?”

Hugh couldn’t laugh at the stupid face he had made. “No.”

Luckily, Simon noticed that. “Oh. All right. Well, don’t worry, love. It’s okay.”

“I’m so—”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he interrupted him, using the same tone Hugh used all the time when they were younger to tell Simon not to be sorry. “There’s no need to apologize.” He ran his hand through his hair and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m just— going to the bathroom—” he grabbed the pile of clothes he had left on the nightstand “—I won’t take long.”

Hugh couldn’t tell if he took long or not. He just put on his clothes again too and got under the covers. He didn’t even turn around when Simon asked him, “Do you wanna be the little spoon tonight?”

He was never the little spoon. But he accepted anyway.

There were a lot of other nights that ended up that way. Nights that Hugh started something just to follow the schedule, things that they never finished because Simon always noticed something was wrong and said they should stop. Then, he kissed him, told him there was nothing to be sorry about, went to the bathroom to change, and went back to be the big spoon.

Until one day, Hugh fell asleep in a position that didn’t allow Simon to cuddle with him. Or at least he pretended to fall asleep to avoid any questions as if why he didn’t want to cuddle that night.

He couldn’t avoid any questions the next morning though.

When he went downstairs to have breakfast, Simon was waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Glad you’re here so early,” Simon said. “We need to talk.”

It was Saturday. Simon was wearing his cotton rob and had prepared an avocado toast and a cup of coffee.

Just the mere fact of him drinking coffee, plus the “We need to talk” phrase, was a bad sign. Not only because Simon got really anxious when he didn’t control how much coffee he drank, but also because the last time he had told him they needed to talk, was when he found some not very family-friendly videos on the family’s computer and thought that it would be better if he asked Hugh if they were his first because he didn’t want to accidentally introduce Adrian to that kind of… audiovisuals.

Stars…

That day had been one of the worst days of his life. And Hugh had fought a civil war. The bar for “bad days” was pretty high, but Adrian still managed to go higher than that.

“What did he do now?”

“Oh, God, no— Adrian’s clean. He’s still sleeping, actually,” Simon responded, completely aware of what Hugh was talking about. “But that’s why I want to talk to you before he comes.”

Hugh felt a little bit less tense. A little bit.

He took the coffee pot and started pouring it on the first cup he found. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Simon drummed the fingers of his right hand on the bar and scratched his beard with his left hand, staring at his unfinished breakfast. “Love… are you having problems?”

“Problems?” he scoffed. “What kind of problems?”

“Oh, you know… problems… down there.”

He lost focus and he poured the coffee on his hand. “Shit—”

“Look, it’s just that I think it’s kind… strange what has been going on these last days,” Simon said without noticing the whole coffee situation. “We— we had a schedule, and now we don’t, and I’m not mad at all, I just want to know if there’s something more to it.”

Hugh left the coffee pot where it belonged and Simon kept talking.

“You should— we should go to see a doctor,” he whispered. “I know you have never had an appointment with a doctor before, but we could… I don’t know, ask around, until you find one that makes you feel comfortable.”

And he would have probably kept talking if he hadn’t interrupted.

“It’s more common than you may think, you know,” he assured him. “And there’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone once in a while has— you know, some kind difficulties, or it hurts, or—”

“No.”

Simon suddenly went silent. “No what?”

“Nothing hurts,” he answered. “I literally cannot feel pain, remember?”

“Oh, no, I mean, of course I remember,” Simon mumbled. “It was— it was just an expression.”

Hugh frowned. “I’ve never heard that expression before.”

Neither of them said anything for an uncomfortable amount of time, while Hugh stirred his coffee with a plastic spoon and Simon pretended he was really focused on his breakfast.

“You didn’t answer my question though,” he said after a while. “Are you having any kind of problems?”

Hugh gave him the same answer. “No.”

“All right. I believe you. And I trust you. You know I’ll always trust you, don’t you?”

When Simon said he trusted him, Hugh usually responded to him saying he trusted him back. But this time, he said, “As you should.”

At that moment, Adrian walked into the dining room, letting them know their conversation had come to an end.

Hurting.

What a strange word.

He couldn’t comprehend it. And he’d never liked things that he couldn’t comprehend.

Nevertheless, even if he had lived his whole life hating things he couldn’t comprehend, now he didn’t understand why he felt so attacked by the way Simon formulated his question. The rational part of him knew he had no intention of making him angry, but his emotional side got angry at him anyway. He got so angry, he dedicated the rest of the day to ignore him.

And things didn’t change after that conversation. They just got worse.

So much worse.

Hugh didn’t even bother anymore to make the first move. He slept turning his back on Simon, so he could make clear he didn’t want to be touched at that moment. But sometimes, Simon didn’t understand (or pretended he didn’t understand) his signals, and asked him in a thousand different ways if that was going to be the night everything was going back to normal.

“How are you feeling, love? Are you better now?”

“How about we try something new today?”

“Hugh, are you awake?”

“Hugh, love, please… answer me”

But Hugh never answered him. Not with anything else but “Fine”, “Other day”, “No”, or just silence. Because sometimes silence counted as an answer.

And sometimes it was the loudest of sounds.

He was already ready for bed. He had brushed his teeth, had put on his pajamas, and had gone downstairs to make sure Adrian was still breathing, being especially careful not to wake him up.

Fifteen minutes had passed since that, and he was still standing up next to the bed, without feeling like getting in yet.

Then, he realized they hadn’t made the bed since the day of the fight. The coverlet was almost touching the ground and the pillows were everywhere except where they were supposed to be. He felt a strange energy going through his body, that ordered him to get closer and start making the bed.

No one liked to sleep on an unmade bed anyways.

However, the moment he started doing that, he made the mistake of graving Simon’s pillow. And Simon’s pillow made the mistake of smelling just like him, and the smell of mint, fabric softener, hit and the citrus body lotion he used was so intense, it made him feel, even if it was for a couple of seconds as if Simon were there.

That feeling lasted, at least, five seconds. And when he tried to smile, he started crying.

Because that pillow wasn’t Simon. Because Simon was not there.

Because Simon had left. He really left.

Without letting go of the pillow, he sat on the cold and hard floor. His elbows accidentally hit the nightstand he had next to his side of the bed, making the lamp and the couple of glasses he never returned to the kitchen tremble a little, but he wouldn’t have cared less if they fell to the floor and broken.

It wasn’t like they could cut him or anything.

He smelled the pillow one more time, and it was more than enough to make Simon’s ghost appear a couple of feet away from him, with empty eyes and a serious face, asking the same questions over and over again.

Why don’t you ever touch me anymore?

Why am I always invisible to you, even when I’m not?

Why are you so fucking cold all the time?

Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?!

“Because I don't even know what is wrong with me,” he finally answered.

Simon’s ghost didn’t ask what he meant. After all, even if he did and Hugh answered him, he wouldn’t have understood.

In fact, he knew Simon hoped he never would.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to Simon anymore. No, it was not that. For him, Simon was the most perfect man he had ever seen in his whole life. He loved his voice, soft like velvet. He loved his hands touching his skin. He loved his eyes that looked at him with adoration, and he loved his body, toned and covered in body hair, that used to make Simon feel self-conscious, but that Hugh had always found really appealing and he made sure to remind him that in every opportunity he had.

Simon had not a single flaw because he was perfect for him.

But when the darkness filled the room and he stretched out his hand to touch him…

It was like something fell upon him. Something so heavy and so big, he couldn’t get rid of it, not even using his powers at their maximum capacities. It didn’t let him move, it didn’t let him speak, and the only thing he could do was to soldier on, praying to a God he wasn’t sure it existed, asking him to please take that weight off him when the sun came out because if he didn’t do it, Hugh would have been capable of staying there for the rest of his days.

Completely still. Without any strength to move his head or change into a more comfortable position. Letting his body get all dusty as if he were part of one of those sets of furniture that they kept in the guest’s rooms that were never used because no one visited them, other than the rest of the Council.

Now, he didn’t know if it was God the one that took that weight off him, but he did know that as soon as the sun started to come out, the weight became lighter and lighter until it finally disappeared and Hugh was able to move again. He dusted off his whole body, prepared to go to the Headquarters, and put on his best face to convince others (and himself) that he wasn’t tired at all.

It had been a long time since the last time Hugh was able to sleep comfortably. He would say it was something that affected him even before his whole… situation with Simon. It had been going on for years. Adrian was still a kid when it all started.

“You should pop some pills or something,” Evander told Hugh when he dared to look a little bit more tired than normal. “You know— to help you sleep.” He clicked his tongue. “After the Day of Triumph, I began to take some sleeping pills, and they helped me a lot.” But before Hugh could ask him why he needed to take sleeping pills, Evander grabbed the folder where the documents he had asked him for and walked to the door, not without patting him on the shoulder first. “Maybe they can help you too.”

There was no need to say Hugh didn’t listen to him. Not only because Evander’s advice wasn’t always the best advice someone could receive, but also because there was something about taking pills he didn’t like at all.

Besides that, it wasn’t like Hugh could take any pill he wanted. They needed to have a strong effect or he would have to take more than one at a time. And Simon already needed to take pills to help him control his anxiety and went to therapy every two weeks.

He hated to say it, but it was a lot of money. It was not worthy. Simon had it worse than him, he needed those pills and those therapy sessions.

Hugh didn’t.

So, yeah, he didn’t listen to Evander. Neither did he listen to Kasumi when she gave him the same recommendation, and couldn’t contain his laugh when she suggested he should do some yoga. He also got into a big fight with Tamaya when she pointed out something was wrong with him, even though the reason that made her think that was that Hugh had broken one of the cupboard doors and was going around looking for something to eat without noticing at all he had destroyed his perfectly designed kitchen.

As time went by, going to sleep became like playing Russian roulette. He never knew if that night he was going to be able to go to sleep or not, but it wasn't like sleeping made a huge difference because each morning he woke up feeling tired anyway.

Probably, the only difference between sleeping or not, was that when he didn’t, when he stayed up all night, all he could see were ghosts.

During his childhood years, Adrian developed a huge fear of ghosts. Adrian was afraid of so many things Hugh couldn’t name each and every one of them, but he did know ghosts were very high on the list. He woke up in the middle of the night all the time, and the most common excuse he gave for his behavior, was that he was afraid the ghosts of the people who were murdered in that house would suddenly start hunting him.

Hugh didn’t believe in ghosts and he didn’t think Adrian should do it either. But when he started to see his own ghosts, he stopped complaining each time Adrian woke him up, asking him, “Daddy, can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Of course, he didn’t see the same ghosts Adrian thought he saw. Hugh’s ghosts were completely different.

Sometimes, it was a man, who despite his young age, he appeared to have lived a thousand years. He had deep circles under his blue eyes and the saddest smile it had ever existed. Occasionally, he was accompanied by a woman, with long and dark hair, who carried in her arms a chubby and loud baby that cried each time she felt her mom wasn’t close enough to her. And most of the times, they also brought with them a little girl, that got between the sheets at the same time Adrian did, and that each time he got closer to Hugh to ask him if he could cuddle him until he fell asleep, he felt as if he were hugging the dead body of that tormented soul, asking him why he didn’t arrive on time.

Hugh didn’t like other people’s kids. Especially if those kids liked to meddle in his business.  

So one of those nights, he locked the door. That way, no ghost was going to enter his room.

And neither would Adrian.

That night, he was starting to kind of fall asleep, after spending hours looking at the window, when he heard a couple of small hands trying to open the bedroom’s door. For a second, they stopped, trying to process why it wasn’t opening as it should. Then, they tried again. When they failed a third time, Adrian started bawling.

Simon woke up immediately.

But Hugh wasn't surprised at all.

“Adrian…” he mumbled. “Adrian, hold on, I’m coming!”

He removed the covers so quickly, he punched Hugh on the face, waking him up completely. He tried to open the door the same way Adrian previously did, but the panic he was feeling at that moment didn’t allow him to process why the door wasn’t opening, and just made his anxiety levels go to the roof.

“Hugh… Hugh, the door,” he mumbled. “The door’s— the door’s not opening, help.”

But he didn’t help.

Not because he didn’t want to. He wanted to help him. He wanted to tell him to calm down, and that the door was just locked.

But there was something on the sound of Adrian’s cries and the way Simon called his name that made the weight on his chest start to choke him.

Really choke him.

“Hugh! The door, please.”

“DADDY! DADDY, LET ME IN, DADDY, LET ME IN!”

“Aren’t you listening to me?! Wake up! Wake up and help me, Hugh!”

“LET ME IN, DADDY, PLEASE!”

“Hold on just a second, darling,” Simon squeezed. “Hold on just a second— HUGH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, COME HERE AND HELP ME!”

“DA— DADDY, PLE— AAAAH!”

First, he heard something getting violently hit. Then, complete silence. And finally, Adrian started crying again.

When Simon turned on the lights, Hugh was able to turn around to see what was happening.

Apparently, Simon had kicked the door down, and Adrian had been fast enough to get away from it before it punched him in the face...

Bit he still got hit on the forehead pretty hard.

“Oh, Adrian, dar—”

“DADDY! POPS HIT ME! HE HIT ME!”

“DARLING, I SWEAR IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, FORGIVE ME!”

Hugh rubbed his eyes, annoyed at the sudden change of light in the room. He noticed Adrian was wearing the blue pajamas Kasumi had brought him during his ninth birthday and was holding the Baby Indomitable blanket.

The blanket she had made for him.

Simon kneeled in front of Adrian and grabbed him by the cheeks. “We need to take him to the hospital,” he said. His eyes were all watery and his voice broke. “We need to take him to the hospital,” he repeated with more emphasis. When Hugh didn’t respond, his worried expression turned into one of pure angriness. “Fuck, Hugh, why did you lock the door? WHY DID YOU LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR, HUH? WHY?”

For some reason, the weight that was suffocating him decided that was a good moment to let go of his throat for a second, just for him to give Simon a reason why. And the only thing that came out of his mouth was:

“Adrian is too old to be sleeping with us every night.”

Adrian started bawling again, and Simon realized going to the hospital was going to take too much time, so he took his son in his arms, and went downstairs to call Tamaya’s husband, Owen, the only doctor they truly trusted.

When Simon got out of the room, he didn’t turn off the lights. Hugh got up to do that, but in the end, decided it would be more appropriate to go with his husband and kid, in case they needed anything.

In the kitchen, Simon was holding Adrian with one arm and holding the phone next to his ear with the other. After a long wait, he hung up, ready to start yelling and punching the first thing (or person) he saw.

Luckily, the first one who noticed Hugh was there, was Adrian.

He had a big bump on his forehead.

“Give him to me,” Hugh whispered. Simon (who was dialing the phone one more time) doubted for a second but finally accepted. “How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” Adrian whispered.

There it was again. That word.

He sat him on the kitchen bar. “Of course it does, buddy. Do you want some juice?”

Adrian nodded. “Can I have apple juice?” he shyly asked.

Hugh looked for it inside the fridge. “We only have strawberry juice,” he said.

“I like strawberry juice too.”

“Good.”

He took two strawberry juice cartons and gave him one. At that moment, Simon pointed at the phone with a hopeful and scared expression, and said, “Tamaya, I almost ripped Adrian’s head off, I need your husband.”

While a really confused Tamaya asked Simon what the hell did he mean with almost ripping Adrian’s head off, Hugh sat down on one of the stools, right in front of his son. He had his legs crossed and was drinking his juice, moving his head as if he were listening to a happy melody.

“... and accidently hit him with the door,” Simon said to the phone. For his change of tone, Hugh could tell he was talking to Owen too (he knew Tamaya well enough to know she was still listening to everything that was going on after putting the phone on speaker). “No, he didn’t lose consciousness, he just… cried a lot… he’s—um, actually kind of hungry right now. Yeah, he’s… he’s drinking some juice. Um… let’s see— Adrian, darling.” Adrian turned around to see him. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Um… Sunday.”

“Great job—” he returned his attention to the call “—He doesn't seem disoriented either.”

Hugh paid a little bit more attention to the nasty bump Adrian had on his head. He didn’t dare to touch it for fear of hurting him more, but a part of him remembered having seen someone wrapping a bag of frozen peas on an old cloth and putting it on the injured area.

So he did that too. He just changed the bag of frozen peas with the strawberry juice carton.

“Can I drink that one too?” Adrian asked, chuckling slightly.  

Hugh smiled at him. “No, you can’t. Too much sugar.”

And when Adrian laughed again, he remembered where he had learned that piece of medical advice.

And he stopped smiling.

“Ice? Just… just ice?” Simon asked Owen, incredulous. His gaze met Hugh’s. “It seems like… Hugh already did that. Are you sure that’s all he needs? And can he go to sleep? Sure? He’s not gonna— no, but… Tamaya, please, let the doctor speak— ok, there’s no need to talk to me like that, I’m sensitive, all right? When you hit your kid with a door, you'll understand my concern.”

After Owen and Tamaya were able to calm Simon down, he hung up the phone. “Well, Adrian, Owen says you’re fine,” he said a little bit less shaken up than before. “And Tamaya is not invited to next week’s party.” Adrian chuckled again. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Simon carried Adrian all the way to his room. Hugh followed them closely, and stayed at the door, listening to his son asking his dad if they could sleep with him that night.

“You’re not too old to sleep with me anyways,” he assured.

Simon looked at Hugh, but he was so far away, he couldn’t tell what he was trying to communicate with his eyes.

If he was trying to communicate anything at all.

There was nothing Simon could say though; it still didn’t seem right for him to sleep in the same bed as Adrian that night.

After all, he had been the one that locked him out of his room when he needed him the most. Adrian was asking for his dad (or “daddy”, like he called him at that age), and he had not reacted immediately after hearing his first cries.

And to make matters worse, he hadn't bought apple juice, even if he knew it was Adrian’s favorite.

Hugh felt like the worst parent on the planet.

Simon was the one who stayed with Adrian that night. Hugh told him the three of them wouldn’t fit in the same bed anyway. Adrian wasn’t that convinced by that answer, but as soon as Simon kissed the top of his head, he seemed a lot happier than before.

He wasn’t able to sleep that night. Not because it was the first time in forever he slept on a bed all by himself, not at all.

It was actually the opposite.

Because from that moment on, two things happened: first, each time Adrian woke up in the middle of the night and went to their bedroom, Simon grabbed him by the hand and together went back to Adrian’s room, where Simon slept on the same bed as his son, and Adrian cried until he fell asleep. And second, after that night, a new ghost joined in. It was no longer the man with blue eyes, or the mother and her loud baby, nor it was the little girl who made too many questions for her own good.

It was her, whose smile could light up the darkest of rooms. Her, whose laugh he heard everywhere, without actually hearing it. Her, who sometimes made him think was seeing her through their son’s eyes, and her who, when no one else was there for him, hugged him from behind and assured him everything was going to work out at the end of the day because there was no force on the universe that was able to take down Lady Indomitable and Captain Chromium.

But she had been wrong.

Like the night after that mission.

It probably had been an unimportant mission, because Hugh could no longer remember what it was about. He just remembered he had planned it and it had failed. They were not able to get what they wanted and the bad guys won. Also, all the members of the team had gotten hurt in some way or another. For example, Simon was left temporarily deaf on one ear after a big explosion and his right hand had first degree burns. Kasumi had been able to avoid getting burned by using her powers to make a kind of water dome around her, but she still got her knees all scraped when she tried to run and fell, and when he said scraped, he meant really scraped. Tamaya wanted to electrocute one of those guys by herself when they tried to take Evander by grabbing him by the leg in a way she didn’t like at all, and even if she did leave all of them unconscious, both still got deep cuts on their hands and arms.

When they arrived, the house became a hospital, where she was the one and the only doctor, because she didn’t get hurt that much and was able to move around without bleeding to death or something.

Hugh also helped her take care of everyone’s injuries (and to calm down Simon when he started panicking about the whole “I CANNOT LIVE MY LIFE ONLY HEARING WITH ONE EAR” thing.) But he wasn’t as good as a doctor as she was, even if he was the designated nurse when one of them got sick of something that may be contagious. That’s why he limited himself to passing her the bandages, towels, and anything she needed, without complaining or giving his unsolicited advice like he constantly did with everyone except her.

After they were finished attending everyone, they decided to go to sleep. Hugh didn’t feel like sleeping that night though, so he went to the roof, thinking he was probably going to stay there until the morning came, to be able to get in bed again and pretend like he had been there the whole night.

However, someone did notice he was gone.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She was flying a couple of inches above the ground and was wearing her pajamas and a little blanket as a cape, to cover herself from the cold wind.

With one hand, she was holding a bag of frozen peas wrapped in an old rag and put it on the small bump she had got when she got hit during that night’s mission.

Hugh just nodded, and she sat beside him, sighing.

They stayed in complete silence, and when he was about to ask her if he could help her with anything, she asked him:

“Where does it hurt, Hugh?”

“What?”

“Where does it hurt?” she asked again.

“No, I heard you the first time,” he answered. “It’s just—”

Just what?

But Georgie didn’t ask him that.

“I know it may not… physically hurt,” she explained herself after realizing he was not going to finish that sentence, leaving the bag of frozen peas on her lap. “But I also know there are a lot of ways someone can be hurting, and those wounds that are on the inside, are as important as the wounds we can see on the outside—” she grabbed his hand, and gently took him by the cheek to make sure he saw her in the eyes.

He would recognize those eyes everywhere.

“Why does it matter?” he asked her softly.

“Because… you’re very strong, Hugh,” she answered caressing his cheek. “Very, very strong. But maybe, if you tell me exactly what’s going on inside your head, we can find a way to cure your pain together. Because we’re in this together. You don’t have to do it alone. Not again. Not ever again.”

She closed her eyes, and he pressed his forehead against hers, looking at their hands, holding each other like their life depended on it.

“So tell me… where does it hurt?”

He didn’t answer the question; but he remembered it was the first time in forever he cried in front of someone who wasn’t Simon. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying and his memories about that moment were blurry as if it had been a dream. What he did remember very vividly was that she didn’t judge him at all or made him like his feelings didn’t matter. On the contrary, she stayed there as long as he needed, crying with him, until he was able to calm down again, and asked her if she wanted to go back inside. She didn’t think twice and accepted. After returning the frozen peas to the freezer, they pushed together the two couches they had in the living room, covered themselves with the small blanket she had brought with her and cuddled until they fell asleep.

From that moment on, it became more common for them to cuddle together. She was always cuddling with everyone, even with Tamaya and Simon, who were the ones with more difficulties accepting physical affection from others. But not even them could refuse her hugs, and her kisses, and her not so uncommon tickles, which Evander and Kasumi loved. Hugh couldn’t help but notice though, he was the one she hugged, kissed and tickled the most, even after she had Adrian and had to share her love with one person more, that probably needed it more than him.

And he loved to be her favorite.

Well— her second favorite. Adrian went first.

He just wished he had hugged her, kissed her, and tickled her more. She was always the one who looked for him, but he rarely looked for her to show her physical affection.

Hugh didn’t look for her at all. Not even when she disappeared.

He didn’t even know why.

He didn’t know anything.

But he did know that she had been wrong when she told him he was strong.

If he were truly strong, he would have protected her, like he had promised her he would do thousands and thousands of times.

If he were truly strong, he would have been the one that was there when the Artinos needed the Renegades, and he would have stopped the hitman Ace Anarchy sent to end them.

If he were truly strong and death had come after him the same way it came after her, he would have survived the fall.

Because he always did.

Because it was not possible for him to get hurt.

It was not her fault she hadn’t survived though. She wasn’t built that way. While Hugh was made mostly of chromium, Georgia Rawles was made of flesh, bones, blood, but mainly, she was made of love, and sometimes, love could be indestructible, but other times, it could also be fragile.

Very fragile.

It didn’t matter how strong she was.

Oh, because she was strong. She was really strong. She had the kind of strength his superpowers couldn’t give him, and that was the one that was going to change the world they lived in.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she kept her cool when things were going to hell.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she raised a child in the middle of a world ruled by anarchy, and was the best mother that child could ask for.

Georgia Rawles was so strong, she became the face people saw when they thought about hope, and didn’t let her beautiful heart to be changed by the obstacles life threw at her, no matter how horrible they were.

And it hadn’t been her fault she died. She didn’t fail anyone, not even the Artinos.

No. The one who had failed the Artinos, the one who had failed her, had been Hugh.

He should have been the one who died that night. He should be dead and buried, and she should be there, alive, with her son and her family, living in the world she had made a better place.

A world he didn’t feel he deserved.

Suddenly, a couple of familiar white boots appeared a couple of inches in front of him. He tried to convince himself not to look up, but his curiosity was bigger than his fear, even if he already knew who it was because she appeared every night after the door incident. It was Georgie’s ghost, just that this time, she was holding Simon’s hand. Her golden cape had not a single drop of blood and looked like new. She was wearing her whole superhero uniform but without her mask, so he had a clear view of her whole face. She let go of Simon for a second, and tried to walk towards Hugh, without taking her eyes away from him.

She didn’t even have to talk to let him know what she was trying to say.

Georgie was trying to remember him the good things his world had. He had raised two brilliant and kind sons who were his pride and joy, even when they weren’t in their best behavior. He had a friend who felt like an older sister, that fiercely loved him and the rest and had always done even when she was still learning how to love herself for the good, chaotic, intelligent, and beautiful person she was. He had another friend who, on the other hand, felt like a younger sister, and whose gestures, voice, and movements were like the calm before the storm, but when it came the time to defend others or defend herself, she became the storm itself, ready to drown whoever dare to treat her in a way that didn’t fit the respect she deserved. He also had a friend, who felt like a little brother, that he had seen grow up since he was a kid that had to get on his tiptoes to high five him, and the memory of his smile, his laugh, and his jokes that sometimes seemed to be hidden behind that strange villainous mask he wore was enough for him not to hate him, even if he hated Hugh.

He had… or had had a husband too. A husband that made him feel like he was at home each time he saw him. A husband who laughed at all his jokes, even when they weren’t that funny, and made him fall in love with him all over again each time he opened that smart mouth of his. A husband whose personality, humor, and body perfectly fit his, because if Hugh had been made for someone, it had been for him. A husband who always chose him, above anything else, but when it came to the point Hugh had failed him so many times, he had no other option but to choose himself.

And it wasn’t like Hugh could blame him. Simon deserved to be happy. Simon deserved each and all of the good things that this world had to offer to him, even if one of those things wasn’t Hugh.

Suddenly, Georgie extended her hand towards him, but when she was about to touch him, an invisible and polarized wall suddenly got in her way.

It was the first time Hugh actually saw it.

It was something grey, hollow, and invisible, that was coming out of him like the chrome that was dripping from his fingers at that very moment.

But Georgie, being Georgie, didn't flinch when she saw that wall. Instead, she flew over his head to try to get in that way. Hugh was following her with his gaze and realized at the same time as her, that thing was not a simple wall that had the sole purpose of making him get away from the people he loved.

That thing, that grey, hollow, and invisible thing, was a shell that impeded the people he loved to get closer to Hugh.

And Georgie was stubborn. Probably as much or more stubborn that Hugh was, even if she constantly was acting as if she weren’t. First, she proved her luck by kicking the shell into letting her in. Then, she used all the force in her body to try to crack it open. She got so desperate that started using her fists, punching and screaming his name, calling him “darling”, and imploring him to hold on a little longer.

The thing was… the thing was he didn’t want her to do that.

He didn’t know what she was feeling, but each time she kicked, she punched and she screamed, Hugh felt like his body was hurting. Not from the outside in, like he had heard physical pain felt, but from inside out; it was a pain that didn’t limit itself to his chest area, and went through all his body. He felt it in his legs, his face, and his arms, and gave him the sudden need to scratch it away. However, the aching shell was pretty similar to the real world, in the sense that when he did it, when he scratched his body in order to make the pain stop some way or another, his skin, and therefore his pain, didn’t react to it. It was as if he hadn’t even moved or made the most minimal effort to help himself.

Please, Georgie.

Please stop.

Please, please...

Please.

Just give up.

So Georgie fell to her knees, leaving bloody marks of her hands all over the shell. The small body of a girl grabbed her by the arm as if she wanted to hug her the same way Adrian hugged Hugh when he had a nightmare. A woman put her hand on her shoulder and quickly soothed her baby before she even started crying. Then, the man of the family wrapped his arms around the four of them, with a fearful but determined expression, that only brave people like him had.

She had heard him. She had given up on him.

The same way Simon, who didn’t stop watching the whole scene, had.

The same way he himself had.

Georgie tried to make him understand one last time.

You live in a beautiful world.

But she was wrong again.

Not about the part of the world being beautiful; it was about the part of her thinking Hugh didn’t already know that.

He did know the world he lived in was beautiful because the people who were part of it made it that way.

However, each time a happy moment occurred or a tragedy knocked at the door, it was as if Hugh wasn’t able to experience the happiness or the sadness that he was supposed to feel. When they cried, they laughed, or they yelled at him, their sobs, their smiles, and their screams felt real, but when he tried to imitate them, he felt like something that had come out from another planet pretending to be a human. Even those tears he was crying now, were more of a way his mind had found to fill the hole he had on his chest, while it waited for that weight to come and take its place.

Not like it was going to matter though. When the sun came up, all those imaginary ghosts will disappear. All the tears he had cried will dry, and all the aching he had felt will turn into the deepest of numbness.

He laid his head on the floor and grasped Simon's pillow tightly.

The next morning, he would feel no pain, in the same way, he would feel no comfort because that was part of being born with the powers he had.

But was there any point in living if you couldn’t feel anything?

***

The answer to that question was about to come to him when he was standing in the Arena, actually tearing up, after both sides of the battle had suddenly ceased fire.

He wasn’t able to see his family in the middle of the chaos, but for some reason, that didn’t scare him at all. The five of them were competent and strong, and they probably were also looking for him, so it was a matter of time and keep looking for them.

Also, this chaos— this chaos was nothing compared to what the Age of Anarchy had been.

He had been alive during the Age of Anarchy. He had experienced on first hand the horrors and the violence of it and had felt like there was no alternative but to roll with it, even if it was painful, horrible, and made him feel hopeless and small.

But then, he met them.

He met them, and the five of them were so full of light that they turned him into light too. The six got together and were able to bring hope into a world that had already given up on people like them, and constantly told them to do the same.

But what they didn’t know was that their secret was not to give up on each other.

They never gave up on each other, not even when one of those lights was gone.

Maybe she never really went anywhere. Maybe she had always been there. Maybe she was on their monthly dinners, in the internal jokes they still shared after all these years, and in the small gestures that reminded them they still love each other and they were still all in this together.

And she would have loved to see them like that.

She had been right about him being strong. But that wasn’t going to be the reason why he was going to be able to end with this chaos and why the Renegades were going to win in the end one more time. He was going to win because she was right when she said he was not only strong, but he was also vibrant, wonderful, valid, and most importantly, he was right. He was right that this world was worth protecting because life was full of moments and people that he would have never met if he weren’t alive to do it in the first place.

Hugh was alive. He was alive and he still could do something about it, to fix what was in his power to fix, and one of those things was himself and the mistakes he had made. There was nothing wrong with accepting what he had done wrong and in becoming a better person, not for others, but for himself.

There was nothing wrong with being alive.

He asked himself again.

Is there any point in living if you can’t feel anything?

But the answer slipped through his fingers. Because he was about to say it out loud, when something grabbed him and dragged him out of that dream, woke him up, and made him realize he was trapped inside a nightmare.

The helmet fell off Callum Treadwell's hands, and he fell on his back, covering his wound and trying to stop the hemorrhage.

He didn’t even bother to try to stop them when they grabbed Ace Anarchy’s helmet. He also didn’t tremble when they assured all of them had fought bravely, but now it was time for them to know fear, and he barely moved as he saw them turned into a phantom creature and soared like a bird of prey while he made his way to his master to give him the key to gaining back all the power he had previously lost.

Instead, he looked at Wonder, who now was with Nightmare, and then looked at his own boots, who also had the blood of numerous people he probably didn’t know.  

Or he did.

Maybe it was his family’s blood.

With the thought in mind, he started searching for their faces in a crowd full of people looking for their loved ones while trying not to get killed in the process. He didn’t have a lot of time to do it though, because as soon as he thought he had seen Simon, the sound of shackles springing loudly reached his ears, followed by the same voice saying:

“Master of Anarchy, rise again, and let us watch them fall.”

As soon as Ace Anarchy started to float upward, the arena began to shake. His powers grabbed each piece of the structure they could find and were used against the few Renegades who were still trying to fight back. The stand he had been gazing at was yanked up from the floor, and Ace Anarchy hurled it at where he was standing.

He threw himself on the ground to dodge it, and then, he turned to see Ace, who was already gazing at him with a condescending grin on his face.

He hadn’t tried to kill him. But he hoped he had.

Actually, he hoped Ace Anarchy killed him right there, and that he did it fast.

Because that would be a lot much easier than whatever the hell he was supposed to do at that moment.

A pair of white boots tripped with Hugh’s body. He had to blink twice to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t a hallucination brought on by stress before turning to look at them and recognize Evander’s black superhero suit. At first, he thought he was going to say something like “Get up!” or “The fuck you’re doing on the ground?!” or a mixture of both, but instead, he just kicked the silver spear in his direction.

Hugh instantly grasped it. Evander gave him a small nod with the head before running towards Ace, and watching him getting closer and closer to him made something inside of Hugh move, giving him the strength he needed to get on his feet again and follow him.

As soon as he saw him throw a blinding strobe into Ace’s face, he knew what Evander wanted him to do.

Hugh took advantage of those few instants Ace gave them when he ducked his head and hurled his weapon at him.

Ace dodged it. Just for a few inches.

Hugh made eye contact with him.

Kill me.

Please.

Please.

Kill me. Right now.

And as if he had heard him, a grin appeared on his lips.

He directed the chains that had been used to contain the prisoners at what he thought it was him, and his whole body shriveled at the idea of their cold touch of the metal being the last thing his skin touched.

But Hugh had been wrong, and the chains wrapped Evander's torso and gagged his mouth.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to get on his knees and beg him to spare Evander's life. He wanted to go feral, throw himself at him, and kill him in a way that made sure he dragged both of them directly to the hell he had been told by Ace he was going to when he died, just to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone else when he was no longer there to protect ones who were left. He wouldn't care that it wasn't heroic of him to ask his worst enemy to end his life on the verge of tears and with a broken voice because it would be even less heroic of him to let the younger member of his family die this way.

He couldn't bear to let another person die instead of him. He couldn't.

He wouldn't be able to take it.

He wasn't strong enough.

Hugh glanced at Evander one last time, to let him know everything would be fine and that he was going to be the one who took his place. But when he realized Evander hadn't taken his eyes away from him, and terror had overtaken his entire face, the words, the begging, and the crying stayed in his throat, now completely unable to come out.

Ace flicked his fingers.

And in a blink, Evander wasn't looking at him anymore.

His scream didn't sound like him. It made his throat hurt and his entire body feel cold.

No.

No, no, no, no.

It was supposed to be him.

He was the one who should be dead right now.

And why wasn't he dead then?

Why were Evander and Georgie dead— and Hugh wasn't?

A pair of knees fell to the ground beside him. He turned around, mechanically, and he saw Kasumi, whose mouth was slightly open and her face had grown pale. Suddenly, instead of breaking down and crying like he thought she was about to do, she made her hands into fists, her jaw clenched, and after a blink, her eyes had turned into the bluest of blues he had ever seen.

Her scream was so guttural and so full of pain, she didn’t sound like her. Kasumi had never been able to make a wave that big out of nowhere in just one second and she had never used her powers with so much hate drawn all over her face full of tears that she didn’t seem to realize she was crying.

But with a simple flick of his wrist, Ace flipped the entire platform and created a barrier that protected him from the wave, breaking it and flooding the arena. Kasumi quickly tried to control the water to protect Evander’s corpse; he took advantage of that distraction to throw the platform at her.

And the only thing Kasumi could do was cry out and raise her arms to defend herself from the crushing weight that now was on top of her.

She didn’t even try to move or to run away. But he didn’t know if it was because it all happened so fast she didn’t have the time to do it—

Or because she simply didn’t want to.

Hugh looked up to the sky, searching for Tamaya. He expected to find her flying, keeping her distance, throwing bolts at her enemies, and when they were able to make eye contact, he would yell her name and ask her for help.

Not for him though.

For them. For Kasumi and Evander. Because each second that passed with Kasumi still under that platform, paralyzed and alone, and with Evander still at the mercy of whoever that passed and that could trip with him or kicked him, was a second that they were being—

Hurt.

But Hugh didn’t see her. She wasn’t anywhere he expected to find her, and he did his best to scan the whole sky, even if the little smoke that still remained in the area made it difficult for him to see.

Then, a dark thought clouded his mind.

Tamaya wasn’t reckless. Not anymore. She wouldn’t risk her life by staying on the ground, and she would know that the best way she would be able to help the rest of them was if she flew and got closer only in case they needed her help.

If she had stayed in the sky, she would have been able to see Evander blinding Ace with his powers. She would have seen Kasumi breaking down and her wave would have touched her wings. She would have known they needed her help long before Hugh did.

Then why wasn’t she there?

Why couldn’t he bring himself to lower his head and look for her in the ground?

Why was he so… numb?

Suddenly, Ace’s roar filled his ears. The villain had a knife buried on his left side, and when he tried to hit whoever had stabbed him, he wasn’t able to find them.

It wasn’t possible that someone had thrown a knife at him since the attack had clearly been from behind. And no one would be fast enough to get out of Ace’s reach and disappear before he realized he had been hurt.

Disappear.

And it was as if he could see him again. He was able to see him standing behind Ace, piercing him with his gaze, ready to push him, made him hit his face against the ground, and kill him himself. He could see his face—the face he had kissed thousands of times— contorted in anger even before his presence was revealed by Honey Harper, who screeched almost as if asking for his husband’s head, and sent every one of the creatures she had control over in his direction.

Simon cried in pain and, after flickering a couple of seconds, he curled into a ball, to protect his body from the bee’s dangerous stings.

An eerie beam of light flew over his head and made Honey Harper fall into a row of plastic chairs. Her bees suddenly lost interest in Simon and flew towards her, hearing their queen calling for someone’s name. When he looked around for whoever had attacked her, he recognized the Sentinel’s armor and noticed how he slowly lowered his arm, as if he couldn’t believe he had just shot someone right in the chest from that distance.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Leroy Flinn tossing a couple of Renegades who were about to attack him and running towards his ally to check on her as if he were one more of her bees who blindly followed her command. Ace watched the scene as the same time Hugh did, but instead of asking Cyanide if she was fine, or even trying to pretend he cared for her, he used his powers to pull his back out of his knife.

He pulled the knife out of his back, probably because he was too full of himself to realize that he could bleed to death if he did that.

Simon knew that. He would have done it himself if he only had time.

Simon knew a lot of things.

And Hugh saw in his eyes that he knew Ace was aiming at his throat when he threw his own weapon at him.

But before the knife touched any inch of Simon’s skin, a swarm of monarch butterflies covered him and Danna Bell used her forearm to knock it from the air.

The Renegades who were still on condition to fight started using their powers at maximum capacity to try to stop Ace Anarchy. Hugh began to walk around with his head low, looking for his weapon because that was the only thing the dark fog that made his body feel dizzy and his thoughts fuzzy allowed him to do.

Look for it.

Look for it, grab it, get up, and fight.

The spear was nowhere to be found. And Hugh didn’t feel like fighting anymore.

He wanted to lay on the floor. He wanted to lay on the floor with Tamaya, with Kasumi, and with Evander, close his eyes, and try to remember how he felt when they were kids and all of them slept together in the same giant bed. He would try to imagine the sound of their breaths and suffocate the yelling, the crying, and the screeching, to at least feel like he was falling asleep before someone came and finished the job for —not for Ace— but for him.

And if no one did, at least Hugh knew what he was going to do next.

His knees began to tremble and his feet refused to keep going. He saw the Silver Spear a couple of meters behind Ace. Maybe if he was able to get across those barriers Ace had built around him with his powers, he could use it.

He had never tried to use it to see if it could physically hurt him in a way that could potentially kill him.

But he could try.

Immediately after that, he noticed someone’s gaze was fixated on him. He looked at Ace but just at that moment, he was struck by a bolt of smoke, distracting himself by his own coughing.

Two hands covered with black gloves slightly touched his weapon and made it move towards him.

The same hands he had been wanting to hold for so long.

The same hands that belonged to the same person who hadn’t stopped looking at him after all this time.

Simon probably didn’t even notice what he did. When Hugh looked back at him, he wasn’t paying attention to him anymore; instead, he was trying his best not to keep slipping on the muddy ground while he stumbled his way out of there.

Simon was slipping through his fingers once again.

The difference was that this time when the Sentinel landed beside a kneeling Simon, hurt and full with stings on his face and neck, he knew he couldn’t let watching him go away be the last thing he did in his life.

Hugh didn’t like running after people when they decided to go because he would never want anyone to do it if it were him.

After all, leaving took a lot of strength. Someone following him would only make it so much harder.

And being the one who followed and was rejected at the end, was even worse.

But some people were worth following. Just one time. Just to make sure they really wanted to leave, or if they wanted to stay just as hard as one wanted them to.

Just so each other knew they haven’t given up on each other yet.

Because he would never give up on Simon; not even when Hugh had already given up on himself.

When he kneeled beside him, he just threw a glance at the Sentinel to try to figure out his intentions, but immediately centered all his attention on Simon.

The hell with the Sentinel.

“Simon, what happened?” he asked him, with his voice trembling as much as the ground did. “What’s wrong?”

And Simon—

Simon answered him.

“At least one of those hornets must have had Agent N—” their gazes met “—I’ve been neutralized.”

He bit his lips and lowered his head, almost as if he were apologizing for something.

But Hugh didn’t want him to apologize. He wasn’t the one who needed to do it.

That Simon was still his Simon. With or without powers.

Hugh put his arm around Simon. “We need to get you out of here. Can you stand?”

He expected Simon to flinch at his touch and ask him to get away from him as soon as he touched. What he didn’t expect was for him to completely ignore his question and his arm around him, and instead, ask him, “Have you seen Adrian?”

Hugh immediately tried to remember if he had seen him during the fight. But, to his horror, the last time he had seen Adrian had been the night he and his team discovered Nightmare’s true identity because he had been avoiding him during the last days.

Those things now seemed insignificant and petty compared with what was happening now.

First, he only shook his head, and while he helped him to get up, Simon’s eyes started to fill with tears. “We’ll find him,” he assured him. “He’s strong. He has to be fine.”

And it was a threat to the universe.

Simon tried to give a step, but his legs couldn’t hold the weight of his body, and he almost fell again. Hugh instinctively held him tighter. “I’m okay,” Simon quickly said, waving his hand. “It’s just…”

It’s just—

Hugh wanted to ask him: “It’s just what?”

But she hadn’t asked him that question. So he didn’t ask Simon either.

He did want an answer though.

And Simon was so good, he gave it to him.

“My whole body feels like it’s burning up from the inside out. Whatever venom those wasps have—”

Simon groaned and Hugh heard his words echoing in his mind.

Feeling.

At least you’re feeling.

You’re feeling, and that’s what matters.

Hugh tried to speak, but the Sentinel interrupted him before he could even say a word.

“Here, let me take him.” He frowned, and the Sentinel added, “You need to stop Ace Anarchy.”

He contemplated the Sentinel's armor, about to tell him to move and let him take his husband out of there.

Hugh didn't need to do anything.

The only thing he needed to do was to get Simon away from danger as quickly as possible.

But he would be lying.

Because deep in his heart, he knew he had to stop Ace Anarchy before he did anything else.

Not because he wanted to. It was because he had to.

That was the way it had always been.

He would like to hate the Sentinel for making that remark, but as soon as his eyes met with his helmet, he realized he had become one of those insignificant and petty things he couldn't believe had taken so much of his time.

And he had also saved Max.

Without him, Adrian wouldn't have had a little brother to kidnap, Hugh wouldn't have had two sons to worry about, and probably, a husband for the Anarchist to hurt.

“Thank you.”

He meant it.

He really meant it.

If the Sentinel smiled or felt something when he heard those words, he didn't show it. He moved towards them to help Simon put his weight on him, but as soon as he got close, he flinched and held Hugh tighter.

A lot more tighter.

With all his might.

Hugh looked him dead in the eye, and Simon did it too.

He would never forget how soft, yet determined, his voice sounded when he said those three words to him.

It was a plea and it was an order.

It was a question and it was an answer.

They were full of vulnerability and they were full of strength.

It was the first words he had really said to him in a long time but might as well become the last ones.

Simon said, “Don't get killed.”

Two realizations came to him at the same time.

The first one was that Simon's lips were slightly open after he said that.

And the second one was that he couldn't die yet.

Not because of the world. Not even because he was sure he wanted to keep living.

He needed to live because he had to find Tamaya to tell her he was sorry, even if he had to look for her on the ground. Because he needed to help Kasumi, ask her to forgive him too, and assure her she had been right all along. Because he needed to fulfill the silent promise he had made to Evander since the day he appeared on their life's door and protect him one last time.

He needed to see Max, hug him, and get him ready for bed.

He needed to talk to Adrian again and tell him he loved him, without him having to be the first one to do so.

And he needed to hold, touch, but above all, kiss the love of his life one more time, and make sure he would never again think Hugh didn't love him until his last breath, and that his last thoughts were all about him.

So he not only needed to live.

He had to live.

Just one last time, he had to live.

He had done it before; he would do it again.

“I'd like to see him try.”

***

The last thing Hugh saw before falling, was Adrian’s face.

And he looked small. Very small. And completely terrified.

He looked so terrified, that the few seconds he was falling, he could only think about all the horrible things Adrian and Max must be feeling, and not actually about what he was feeling.

But as soon as he realized that, he hit the ground.

At first, he did his best not to give up and stay awake for as long as possible. But he started wondering what Georgie felt when she fell from the sky. If she had looked like a shooting star. And he wondered if it was really her the one who appeared in front of him, wearing a golden cape. If it was really her when she held his face in her hands, caressing his cheeks without saying a single word, and kissed his forehead before getting up again and starting flying, and flying until he couldn’t see her anymore.

He also wondered if she would have been woken up by the pain had she survived the fall, just like he eventually did. If she would have also felt the instant relief everyone felt when they came to the realization that they were alive, just to immediately be followed up by guilt. Or what Georgie would have thought if she had stayed a little longer, just to ask him that one last time.

Where does it hurt?

Hugh would have told her the truth. Because of course he would have told her the truth. He would never lie to her. Not even when all he had done for the last ten years, had been lying to himself.

Everywhere.

It hurts everywhere.

She didn’t ask him anything though.

Not that he was mad at her for not doing so.

He just wondered what she would have thought.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #humon #hugh everhart #simon westwood #should i tag the rest of the council? #let's do it jaja #georgia rawles #tamaya rae #kasumi hasegawa #evander wade #pinche evander cómo te odio en este fic eres la peor escoria del mundo aaaah #adrian everhart #pinche adrian también tú chinga tu madre #nova artino #nova tú estás bien a ti sí te quiero

[overdramatic-queer-antagonist]

Stop The Apocalypse Out Of Spite

I kept seeing these Martin gets raised by Lonelyeyes fics and thinking ‘this is way to healthy’ so here’s Lonelyeyes son Martin being an uncooperative bastard like he deserves.

~~~

Ao3    Next

~~~

fic under cut

Martin is a nice man. Really, he is. He helps old ladies cross the street, volunteers at the local animal shelter, and all that jazz. People expect his parents to be equally polite, retired probably, with a home with a beautiful garden somewhere in the suburbs. This was not the case. Let's just say finding out that his parents were two billionaires who argued for sport was a top tier relationship ender. And yet, Martin's failed relationships didn't come even close to why he resented Elias and Peter.

To start with, they were plain evil. Not abusive. Like, supervillain, "eat this poison apple" type people. Also, there was the arguing thing. They had this weird game. They would fight, divorce, Peter would fuck off on the Tundra, and then remarry, rinse and repeat. He, honest to God, didn't care about their weird kink if they didn't so clearly want him to participate. When he had first moved in, he tried to stay in his room as much as possible. Not seen, not heard, that's what had worked with his mum. But they weren't having any of that, and pretty soon, he was a part of their little game. Then there was the whole thinking money equates to love, although he felt kind of guilty about that one. At least he had money. But the worst thing by far was Elias's insistence that Martin work for The Institute.

He had only really done it to shut Elias up, of course. He was planning on quitting the next week. Saying, "he tried, but he doesn't think it's for him. Plus, he feels so bad knowing that he has a leg up on all his coworkers." And all that bullshit that Martin and Elias both know was posturing. But he went up to Elias's office to resign only to find that he couldn't. Not like Martin discovered that he really loved the job, he was hired as Elias's assistant and did absolutely nothing all day, but he literally couldn't. Elias, of course, was smirking triumphantly at Martin when he found himself tongue-tied. That was the one time he called Elias Jonah. Never again. The pride on his face was immeasurable.

There were some alright things about them, though. Martin never had to worry about money, and they would usually leave him alone, probably The Lonley's doing, but whether it was Peter or himself doing it was a mystery to Martin. His job at the institute wasn't the worst. The pay was ridiculously high (another thing Martin hated: nepotism), and it was clear that Elias had only hired him to gloat. He didn't actually care what Martin did during his day.

Well, that's not entirely true. There was one thing Elias truly despised him doing. Elias couldn't stand him hanging around the Archives. Ergo, that became Martin's new favorite spot. He didn't like the first Archivist, Gertrude. She always seemed like she couldn't decide if he was an idiot or a spy. She never once seemed to consider that he might actually be able to help stop Elias. She was doing a great job pissing of Elias, though, so he stuck around. And then she disappeared. Elias was the culprit, no doubt, and he had a pretty good idea of where her body was. He didn't care about that rude old lady nearly enough to even consider going down there to look, though.

He liked her replacement. Jonathan Sims. He was ignorant, for one, which was refreshing. The less Jon knew the less his glares stung. He knew nothing about what was actually going on, so there was no actual malice in them. It was cute. Jon also had a very entertaining habit of forgetting that Martin was Elias's son. Whenever he was relaxed enough or drunk enough (thanks, Tim), Jon would rant about how much he hated Elias. Martin found this cute too. Maybe he just thought Jon was cute. Usually, Jon would pause suddenly, realizing who he was talking to, no doubt, and prepare an apology of some sort before being interrupted by Martin complaining about Elias more than he had. Martin would bring tea to Jon and his assistants, Tim and Sasha, and pretend for a second that they were safe. He liked it.

Then Prentiss attacked. He was worried all day, hilariously enough, not about Prentiss. That would be pretty simple to stop, and even Elias would be sure to try and prevent it from actually killing anyone. No, it was that fucking table. He wasn't stupid. He listened to every tape. He knew (not Knew he took a lot of pride in that) that the NotThem was connected to it. Jon and Tim had each other, but Sasha was all alone or worse, with Elias. So he managed to 'get separated' from Tim and Jon and hurried to Artifact Storage.

Just as he'd expected, there was Sasha, face to face with the NotThem, paralyzed. He may have panicked a little bit, but he liked Sasha. So he did what he had to. He grabbed her and dragged her into the Lonely.

Which brings him to now. In the Lonely, praying he can anchor Sasha enough, with Sasha standing in front of him, snapping out of her daze.

"Oh my God, Martin!" she said, rushing to hug him and sounding relieved, "Thank you! Thank-" She stiffened. Here it comes. Martin thought. "Martin?"

"Yes, Sasha?" He heard himself respond shakily.

"What are you?" Sasha asked calmly and, to Martin's relief, not letting go.

Martin laughed nervously, "Well, I'm Polish on my mother's side."

Sasha smacked his arm, "You know what I meant."

"... I'm gay? You already know that, Sash-"

"Oh, my God! Stop deflecting. I'm literally begging you!" She laughed, pushing off of him.

"If I had an answer, I'd tell you, Sash." He answered, honestly, "But if you're asking if I'm still human? Yes, I guess."

"Great. Can you get us out?"

"Oh, sure. Any suggestions?"

"Can you get us to Tim and Jon?"

Martin paused, "Maybe? I don't really know where they are. I don't serve the Beholding. They're in the tunnels, though. So I'll try, but I can't make any promises."

Sasha blinked, "I understood half of that."

Martin laughed and held out his hand for Sasha to take, "Yeah. We have lots to talk about."

Sasha took it, and Martin took a deep breath. Focusing on the sense of belonging he felt in the Archives (cliche, he knows, not his fault his patron is a sucker for the power of love), and pulled himself and Sasha out. They did not find themselves with Tim and Jon. They did, however, find themselves in the tunnels, staring at the year-old corpse of Gertrude Robinson with three bullets in her chest and a sickening lack of eyes. They both screamed and ran out of the room as fast as possible. They ran fast, not bothering to look behind them and not even noticing the lack of worms, only stopping to breathe when they flew out of the trapdoor into the Archives.

Sasha was the first to speak, panting with both fear and exhaustion, "Was that?"

"Yes," Martin responded, trembling quite a bit himself.

"Do you know who?"

"Who else? Elias."

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #fanfic #tma martin #tma elias #martin blackwood #elias bouchard #Sasha’s in it but it’s not really a fic about her and I ain’t about to Sasha bait #lonelyeyes #jonmartin #lonely!martin #I stg if I decide to make this a full thing (probably not I’m not good at commitment) there will be timsasha cuz it’s me #tw swearing #tw abuse ment #the word kink is written #this is all just a little passive agressive so if that’s something that will upset you take care of yourself

[whumperfly-chaser]

Maurice- Ch 2 | A realization

Don't you just hate it when you find out your tenant has been secretly using his home to host and torture someone for his own sick pleasure? Simply the worst way to start an afternoon.

T/W's here: (Emeto, dirty home, rotting foods and other bits, abandoned setting, infestation) (Lmk what else to tag!)

It would’ve been a pleasant afternoon, drizzling slightly on clean sidewalks and an overgrown lawn, children in raincoats playing in the neighboring yards, and birds singing happily under the shower. It would’ve been a pleasant afternoon, but not for Denice or Martin. No… Not for them in the slightest. Denice tightens her grip around the umbrella handle as she listens faintly to Martin’s complaints.

Prev- Next

“I’m telling you Denice, you’ve got to stop thinking that Roger was up to this shit. Sure, he was a little off sometimes, but he paid the rent just fine.”

“And I’m telling you that I heard something in here. I could’ve sworn I heard a scream when I was walking by. That’s no dog, Martin. It sounded human and scared and I-“

“And you what, Denice?” Denice looked at him with a sort of restlessness, every once in a while she gazed at the innocuous exterior. This house used to be hers. It used to feel nice to walk by and it used to feel safe. But now… all it gives her is a sense of dread.

“Are you really going to break into a tenant’s home just to investigate a random shout you heard? That could literally be anything!”

She crosses her arms. “I know what I heard, Mart. And it’s not his home anymore; he’s dead.”

Martin groans, dragging his hands down his face, releasing it with a snap. “Denice, you’re being unreasonable. The guy could’ve had a kid over-“

“He has no kids. And he mentioned it when signing the lease, too.”

“Like hell you remember when he signed that lease.”

“Steel. Trap. Memory. He said, and I quote; ‘I know this neighborhood is real quiet, so don’t worry, I never have anyone over, it’s just me in here.’ End quote.”

Martin rolls his eyes. “He could’ve been watching a movie-“

“That was no movie. It was guttural- and- and real.” Denice shudders, hugging herself as she takes another longing look at the house.

“It could’ve just been him yelling after a rough day-“

“The voice was too high compared to Roger’s.”

“It could’ve been coming from another house, or a person nearby.”

“It was coming from the house.”

Martin stares at her, half nonplussed and half exasperated. When Denice raises an eyebrow at him he simply looks away, staring at nothing in particular as he finds the words to say in response.

When he finally looks back at her, he’s no longer fully disbelieving her, but he’s definitely hesitant. “Look. You heard that noise weeks ago, Denice. Whatever it was, it isn’t there anymore. Plus, do really you think I’m going to go in there when our tenant might have been a psychopath with- people in his house?”

Denice almost glared, but instead she simply took to walk down the dirty stone path to the entryway.

“Denice- Denice, what in the absolute fuck are you doing?!”

“If you don’t want to go, fine. But voice or not, I still need to evaluate the condition of the house.”

“His family might still want his things-”

“He has none he’s close with. He signed his coworkers as references, too. Plus, I have the right to inspect.”

Denice opens the three locks in the front door like clockwork and swiftly opens the door to a dark and dusty apartment. It’s a fairly straightforward layout, with an L-shaped couch and some pillows, a plain carpet, and a coffee table in front of it. On the adjacent wall there’s a television on a shelved stand with some mildly off abstract paintings, strewn with messy strokes of black, blue and red paint. She glances at it for a second and finds herself looking away just as quickly.

Despite that, it was a normal-looking home, if not unsettling because of how abandoned it felt.

The smell is bad, but bearable as she turns on the lights. The furnished living room has a thin layer of untouched dust coating it, as though it finally had time to settle. It’s as she enters the kitchen that the putrid smell hinted at before hits full throttle. She swallows dryly and takes a step back, bumping into… someone’s chest…

Denice shrieks, struggling as a hand is placed on her shoulder-

“Shush! It’s me!” She snaps open her shut eyes and relaxes only slightly upon seeing Martin’s worried face looking back. He retreats his hand and takes two paces back himself, arms up in caution. “Sorry I grabbed you.”

“Oh-!” She heaves to herself, pressing a palm to her chest as if guiding her lungs to stretch further. “I-It’s okay, just don’t- don’t do that again, Mart.”

Martin nods, grimacing from the overall scent of the home. “I’m really sorry… Um.. I found these keys? They were on a keyring next to the door, but they don’t seem to belong to any of the locks.”

“Keep them for now. Maybe he changed some? We’ll have to check if he put a lock or three somewhere here.”

“Isn’t that against the lease?” he asks whilst putting the small wad of keys in his back pocket.

“I’ve got other things to worry about right now… But we’ll need to look through the whole house.”

Denice inspects the room. Kitchenware, some appliances- a toaster oven, a blender… A very… diverse knifeblock… She pulls out a knife, only to find that it seemed recently polished.

Martin notices her interest in them. “Maybe he was interested in keeping everything maintained. The rest of the house seems pretty neat.”

Denice glances at the oxidation creeping from one of the thinner knives and doesn’t touch it. “…Maybe.”

“Is it me, or is the smell coming in stronger from the refrigerator?” Martin asks, but seems hesitant to open it.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Martin grimaces and looks away from the fridge as he pries it open. The lights snap on, revealing worms and maggots feasting on rotted food. One or two grown flies emerge from the indistinguishable piles of muck and escape the fridge as Martin slams the door shut. “SHIT!”

“The fridge wasn’t closed properly, I’m guessing…”

“You’re guessing? Shit’s a pigsty.”

“That’s what happens when food rots near the presence of flies, Mart.”

Martin gags. “No shit, Sherlock. Hell, did anybody even come in the house after he died?”

“I doubt it… Let’s just move on.”

“Let’s.” Replies Martin, looking through the cabinets. There were several lining the corners of the room, about twenty total; ten above and ten below. Unsurprisingly, a variety of spiders had long made their homes inside of the spaces from the absence of movement. The occasional pest would skitter between the raised boards, one of which being a cockroach large enough to garner a scream from the buxom woman. Martin was ever quick to kill it, slightly more composed than his counterpart.

“I don’t get why he’d have so little spices and so much salt.” Martin finally remarks, opening one of the upper cabinets.

“Maybe he likes pickling food?” Denice supplies, frowning at the dust layering the pots and pans below.

“I doubt it. His fridge would’ve been a lot more tolerable- and less… maggoty.” Martin shudders and proceeds.

Denice is opening yet another cabinet door when the realization finally hits her- She snaps back to a rather calm Martin, who was inspecting one of the bags. “Wait! Mart!”

Martin simply stared at her, nonplussed. “What?”

Denice stares back at him, then his hand. “Wait… didn’t you mention that salt burned you guys?”

Martin looks at the salt in question and chuckles softly, then pats the leaking paper bag. “Don’t worry, salt is only a big deal for obligate vamps.”

“Oh.”

“Yep. Plus I’m almost sure this is full of drugs.”

“It’s too granulated for that, Mart.”

“You never know.” Martin shrugged and placed it on the counter, continuing his run-through.

Why was she even doing this anymore? Did she really want to know what else was here?

…And yet, she finds herself opening the last cabinet regardless, surprised to see a different, smaller fridge inside it.

“…Mart, did we ever leave a mini-fridge here?”

“No? why would he own a separate fridge? Did he own snakes? a lizard of some kind?”

Denice cracks it open, shuddering at the sickening smell of iron and old blood, all in bloated vacuum-sealed bags, separating into clear, off-yellow plasma and coagulated chunks of dark rot. “He- he’s human, right?”

“Yeah? His ID would’ve specified if he were a supernatural.”

“Martin… Either he was a vampire, or he has enough blood to house one for no reason.”

“Blood? Wait-“ Martin ambles over to see it and retches at the sight, spitting into an overfilled trashcan nearby.

“Holy shit.“

“Martin- hey, it's okay man.” Denice rubs small circles on his back, and Martin coughs in his panic until it slowly died down. All is quiet between them, buzzing with unsaid questions.

"It's the smell that's killing me. It's wrong. Blood shouldn't be.." He straightens- realizing something until the last words finish his thought. "...wasted. Denice."

She perks at the call. "What?"

“You need a license to buy blood.” He silently mentions, the statement lingers in the air, weighter. His slitted pupils are wide and anxious.

Denice looks back at the minifridge, glancing at the almost rudimentary setup for storing the bags, compared to the professional handling she's seen with actual banks on the few times she accompanied Martin.

“I think-… I think this was his own. And you aren’t supposed to house vampires—even if you sign for them.” Denice feels her stomach lurch as she closes the door of the minifridge.

Martin looks at the blood with an apathetic sort of disgust, the bags having insulted his senses for the last time. “Will you please close the fridge already? The kitchen smells awful as it is.”

“Oh- Sorry. Let me just-“ She tries to close it normally, but it doesn’t really shut. A bit more pressure is applied, and even then the door bounces back open. One of the bags had clearly tilted out of shape when she opened it, but… Denice was not about to touch it more than she had to already.

She gives it a hearty shove.

There’s a squelch when it shuts, leaving a gush of sickly, yellow-tinted plasma to shoot and bead along the dirty linoleum flooring. Some clots of dark, runny sickness sputter and run down the fridge door

“…I burst one.” Denice gags while a strangled sound escapes Martin’s chest.

Martin heaves dryly, pressing a fist to his lips and an arm around his stomach as though it would stop him from vomiting altogether. They really should’ve placed a better window in the kitchen.

This could’ve been a nice afternoon.

“Den- Denice, I need to take a breather, yeah? or- or- I’ll definitely throw up. Let’s get to somewhere else- I can’t- I-”

“Y-Yeah… Let’s just get out and recuperate a little.”

Denice walked out of the kitchen with Martin following closely behind, his breaths stifled to try and limit the amount of bad air he inhaled.

But now Denice was even more unsure if she wanted to see what else lied in the house. Even with someone as strong as Martin beside her, she felt nervous. Uncertain.

Afraid.

Martin seemed to sense her worry and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We can always leave. You don’t have to stay here and see whatever else was in here.”

Denice enjoys his touch a little longer, thinking on what to say in response. In truth, she did want to leave. She wanted to leave from the beginning. But seeing just what they found now… Well, the knowledge would only eat at her if she didn’t find a conclusion to this.

“…Let’s just see the rest of the place, and we’ll leave right away. Is that okay with you?” She says despite herself. Martin looks absolutely disinterested in continuing the search for the scream’s source, but sighs. “I’ll go.” The relief Denice feels at those two words is immense. “But only because I don’t want you to be in here by yourself.”

“Thank you Mart.” “Don’t mention it.” His tone is curt yet warm, and Denice opens the door to the staircase with a bit more confidence.

They walked up the pine stairs with little conversation- the smell noticeably got better as they left the kitchen area, until it was replaced entirely by the musty scent of dust and no air circulation. The other two bedrooms were normal; they were replaced with an office and storeroom, both of which had no outstanding features. In truth, besides the paintings, there was a very little amount of personality in his home décor.

The attic was a different story altogether.

Martin bumped his head for the third time on the attic’s ceiling when Denice had seen it- shackles. Chains. Restrains of all shapes and sizes. Whips, prods, pokers and knives. Tasers and Gags and ropes and belts and flails- and a bowl.

A bowl of water, next to a spray bottle. Martin touches it and recoils- hissing to himself as he stared at his now reddening hand.

His burned hand.

----

They stumble out of there, disconcerted and horrified as each of them try not to think too hard on their findings. The lawn door creaks and wanes on its rusty hinges until they both find a place to sit under a lawn table’s umbrella and chairs.

And so they sat, not quite talking but exchanging conversation through glances alone. Martin takes a deep, shuddering breath and holds his head in both hands while Denice hugs herself, desperately trying to make sense of it.

But no matter what, they couldn’t quite make sense of it. It could have easily been confirmation-bias, but every path seemed to lead back to her original theory, and they hated it.

Martin still looked unnerved, his grey-tinted features dark despite the sun peeking out on him. He tapped his fingers against the clouded glass and grimaced- rubbing his fingers together at the gritty feeling of muck layering the table. He takes a quick sip of his flask and grunts as his burnt hand slowly starts regrowing the tissue.

"...It was concentrated." He eventually says after noticing her worried glances. "Fuckin' liquid was probably saltier than the ocean. Could've been acid for all I know. "

Denice felt herself losing composure as well- an internal tremor echoed through her as her worries piled on. Further and further it pushed her will to continue looking. Yet the most she could do was retreat into a better space- a more optimistic section of her thoughts where the noise she heard was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

She couldn’t imagine how Martin could feel about this- he was a vampire himself, and was now dealing with the possible reality of one of their tenants illegally hosting an unregistered vampire in his home. Torturing a vampire. Feeding it with his own blood to avoid getting into a registry.

She can't unthink it. She doesn't want it to be true, and yet she feels it's growing more real by the second.

She's rethinking every instance with the tenant, no longer a placid young man with a mild interest in the arts, but holding those pokers, those knives, those weapons, and using it on someone. On her. On Martin.

She desperately hoped for it to be a joke. A gag. Something unreal and unbelievable, as Martin had told her just an hour ago. But reality was setting in too quickly for fantasy to fill in the gaps, and now she had seen too much.

Martin was the first to speak.

“I’m calling the police.” It’s such a firm statement that it leaves Denice even more unsure. If they called the police, what would happen? Did they really expect something to make sense if they did? For some justice when they didn’t even know if the man did this? They would most certainly laugh. Laugh at them both for calling them over simply because they saw some odd things in his own home.

She remembers how each weapon had drying flecks of dark ichor lacing them and gags.

“…It's not going to be a good idea. There isn't much in terms of evidence.”

Martin glared at her momentarily, his gaze only softening upon seeing her distress. “We can show them what we found-“

“And then what?”

Martin looked away and at his hand, pensively staring at the mottling patchwork of repairs on his skin. “I don’t know.”

Denice unknit her brow. “Well… we still have one last room to search through. None of the keys fit the other doors. If we see something truly incriminating, we'll call.”

Martin flexed his now-healed hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling forcibly as though trying to grasp his last strands of composure. Or savoring the fresh air while he still could.

“Fine, but I’m not going back there for longer than I have to, and neither are you. Comprendes?”

She nods, now set and resolute. Martin stood up and stretched, his joints popping until he heaved a breath and walked to follow his partner. The one place they hadn’t searched. The last room. The room they both dreaded entering.

The basement.

#might edit later #i dont know man im tired #denice and martin #they argue like an old married couple #whump #tw whump #vampire whump #martin is a vampire

[vergilthelibrarian]

Lumen.

MarkXGenderNetural!Reader

CW: Satan shows up

When you started working at Lumen Tech, you didn’t really think much about your boss.

Yes, he was handsome, kind, and thoughtful but you despised him a bit for simply being born with greater advantages than you.

Mark Lee was the youngest son of the founder and CEO of Lumen Tech Industries of Pharmaceuticals. They did research on up and coming medicine and unlike most selfish big pharma companies, they didn’t jack up the prices of their medicine.

Mark was handed the company when his father stepped down, his older brother going off to do missionary work in other countries since the Lee family were very religious Christians and that seeped into their work.

You didn’t really care about that though, the only thing you even questioned about their faith was the older brother being a missionary since you weren’t really a huge fan of missionaries for a number of reasons.

Still, you didn’t question or think about Mark Lee, his family, and how he ran the company, caring far more about getting paid and not living on the streets.

Mark was nice to everyone.

He was very humble and handsome to boot so of course some of the workers were infatuated with him. You understood why though.

He truly was a good man of faith and it was rare for you to run into people like that… still, there was something off about him to you.

Mark was perfect. Too perfect but you couldn’t think of what his flaw could be.

Whenever you saw or ran into him, he would always smile at you and ask about your day.

That’s the thing, Mark didn’t live lavishly.

He dressed normally, went to regular restaurants and cafes.

He never splurged on material things either and he always helped at the local soup kitchens.

With how he acted, you wouldn’t have guessed he was some rich kid born in wealth but that was exactly what he was and you being the literal opposite made you wonder why he acted as humble as he did.

That was honestly the reason you didn’t like him a little.

That was the reason you questioned his motives.

That was the reason why you now found yourself doing an overnight shift just so you can sneak into his office and snoop around for any flaw you could find on him.

Sighing, you shuffled the now finished papers on the desk, put them back in the manila envelope. Getting up from your chair, you walked to your boss’s office, knocking on the door 3 times.

You didn’t hear an answer.

You knocked 3 more times and again, no answer.

Frowning slightly, you turned at the door handle, surprised that it was unlocked since Mark always kept the door to his office locked, usually having some type of body guard open it for him.

He has always been a very secretive man.

You opened the door and went into the empty office, setting the envelope on the desk.

You looked behind, moving your head slightly to see outside of the room.

Once you believed no one was around, you started looking around the office.

Again, there was something off to you about your boss, you just couldn’t put your finger on as to what it was but maybe looking around his office would give you some clues.

You walked around, getting behind his desk.

Mark didn’t have much on his desk besides pictures of his friends and family, name plate and some other knickknacks. You opened his drawers, moving papers around, finding nothing interesting or strange.

Your ears soon perked up though as you heard footsteps coming down the hall and you quietly closed the drawer to the desk and moved from behind the desk just in time before Mark walked into the office, a curious look on his face.

“Why are you in my office?” he asked you and you licked your lips.

“I was finished with the paperwork and the door was unlocked so I came in.”

“Why are you still in here?” his face was blank now. You couldn’t even read his body language.

“I was just waiting for you is all.” you smiled slightly.

Mark closed his eyes and hummed.

He then opened his eyes and to you it felt as if though he was starting into your soul.

“Are you telling the truth?”

You nodded.

“Yes Mr. Lee. I swear, I was only waiting for you.”

Mark walked over to his desk and grabbed the envelope, inspecting it before his eyes went back to you.

“Okay. You may go home now.”

You bowed slightly before walking out of the office. Once you got to your desk, you quickly grabbed your belongings and sped walk out of the building.

~~

You awoke in a field of flowers but as picturesque the scenery was, the smell of smoked filled the air but as you got up from the ground and looked around, there was no fire in sight nor smoke in the air.

As you stood in the field, the silence that was once defining was broke with cries and screams of agony, yet still, no torture of the sort was happening near you.

Cries of help filled your ears and the smell of smoke filled your nostrils.

It was all too much.

You squeezed your eyes shut and covered your ears, wanting the screaming to stop but it wouldn’t.

It got louder and louder and louder until you heard a booming voice say, “Do not be afraid.”

Opening your eyes, you looked up and saw a bright being with 6 wings, multiple eyes and a halo floating over it’s head.

Gasping, your eyes widen, goosebumps growing on your arms.

It was an angel.

An actual angel… you couldn’t believe it.

You stared at the bright being, your eyes hurting from the light but you couldn’t look away.

You were in such awe.

“Your curiosity caused your fall.” the angel said and that broke you out of your trance.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You humans are so inquisitive, especially you my dear.” it chuckled and quickly fear began rising from the pit of your stomach.

“Why am I here? What is this place?” you asked.

“You are here because I want you to be and this place is hell.”

You gulped, your eyes widening once more.

Why where you in hell?

“Hell? Why am I here? I wasn’t that bad!” you yelled and the angel chuckled once more.

“As I said before. You are here because I want you to be here.”

“B-but I! I don’t want to be here!” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes.

“You will be by my side. You have no choice in this.” the angel said darkly. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. And I had to sit by and watch as you grew. He didn’t allow me to do anything then but now since it’s the end times, I have free reign over this realm and I plan on making you mine.”

Suddenly, the angel’s form changed.

It grew scaly legs, its feet touching the ground. Its wings turned leathery like, similar to a bat’s. A razor sharp toothed grin grew on its lips as their horns curled out, its skin a dark red.

The only things that remained was the multiple eyes and it’s halo.

“Who are you?” you asked, knowing the answer but still fearing the words that would leave his lips.

“I am Satan. But you my dear, you may call me Lucifer.”

~~

As you typed away on your computer, you couldn’t stop thinking about the nightmare that you had last night.

Was it even a nightmare or did it actually happen?

Were you really transported to hell in your sleep and met Satan himself?

Everything was so vivid yet you couldn’t remember what he said.

No matter how hard you tried to remember, it just couldn’t come to you.

Sighing, you shook your head.

That dream was distracting you from your job.

“Hey, Y/n?” your coworker Kun walked up to your desk.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Lee wants you.” he said.

“Why?”

“He didn’t say. Though, he didn’t look happy.”

You grimaced as you got up from your chair.

Mark only ever called people into his office if they were in trouble and as you stood in front of the office door, you took in a deep breath before knocking.

“Come in.” you heard and you opened the door, walking into the room.

You closed the door behind you.

“Lock it.” he said and you listened, locking the door.

You walked to the chair in front of the desk and took a seat, surprised that his body guard, who name was apparently Lucas, wasn’t here.

“I have to ask you a question and be truthful.” he said, his brown eyes staring down at you.

“Did you look around my office?”

You shook your head.

“No Mr. Lee. I didn’t.” you answered.

Mark chuckled before raising out of his seat, his eyes never leaving you and he walked around the desk and sat on the edge of it right near you.

“I know you’re lying. Now tell me the truth… Did you snoop around my office last night?” he asked.

“I’m telling you Mr. Lee, I didn’t.”

Mark nodded his head, humming.

“Lying is a sin my dear, and you are awfully bad at it.” he smirked.

You started becoming nervous at his demeanor.

Last night, you couldn’t read him but today, his entire aura was screaming danger and you wanted to get the hell out of his office.

“I’m gonna ask you again and if you lie to me again,” he leaned down to get close to you, “let’s just say you won’t like the punishment I have for lairs, especially bad ones.”

You gulped.

“O-okay. I did look around but only at your desk! That’s it. I promise.” you said, shamefully staring at the palm of your hands.

Mark laughed.

“See how easy it is to tell the truth.” he leaned back. “As a reward for telling me your bad deeds, I have something to show you.” he said, getting up from the desk.

He walked behind you, his hands covering your eyes.

“Close your eyes. And on the count of 3, open them and look behind you.” he told you, his hot breath hitting your ear.

You nodded.

“1.” Mark removed his hands from your eyes, walking back.

“2.” your body was shaking. Something felt wrong but you couldn’t explain why.

“3.” you nervously turned around, screaming in terror and you jumped out of your chair, your hands covering your mouth, your lower back hitting the edge of the desk.

You couldn’t believe it.

This had to be a dream.

“But it’s not a dream my dear.” Mark said, reading your mind.

“You’re Satan?” you asked in fear, the full memory of the nightmare coming back into your mind. Your body shook as you stared wide eyed at the horned winged beast before you

“That’s right. But please, call me Lucifer. I hate the name Satan. It makes me seem so evil.” he frowned.

You started hyperventilating, your breathing was shallow, your head pounding and soon, you fainted.

#i hope you enjoyed the story guys ^^ #mark lee x reader #mark lee x male reader #mark lee x you #nct x you #nct x reader #nct x male reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x male reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream x male reader #nct dream x you #yandere nct #yandere nct u #yandere nct 127 #yandere nct dream #yandere mark lee

[simpirals]

Down The Tunnels

(Read on AO3) So this is another collab with my very cool friend @stellarwhaleshark​ in which we wrote about Not!Sasha chasing Jon down the tunnels, ending it completely differently from canon. (Jon doesnt die dw) If you liked it,please let us know in the comments! ❤️ Reblogs are encouraged !  ❤️ Characters: Not!Sasha/ Not Them, Jonathan Sims (mentions of Timothy Stoker,Sasha James and Martin Blackwood) Warnings: body horror, stabbing, axe violence, generally spooky atmosphere Jon scrambled down the dark halls. Dark, unkempt hair with streaks of grey frame his face, which scans every nook and cranny in the impossible labyrinth before him. His breathing is ragged, and as he clutches his axe in sweaty hands, a laugh echoes out in the stale air. He is utterly terrified. And he had all the reasons in the world to be so. Something that wasn't his friend wore a face he used to deem as familiar, and that very same thing was out to hunt him down.

"Jooooonnn..." An uncanny voice echoes through the tunnels, reaching out to the man fleeing for his life. "Jooonnn… Why don't you stop running so we have a nice, friendly chat? With your Sasha?" Noises that weren't footsteps reverberated through the tunnels.

"Isn't it what friends do, Jon? Sit down and talk things out together? I promise you this won't take long."

The creature's voice lowered in a dangerous growl.

Jon's heart leapt in his throat as he desperately tried to find an escape from the thing chasing him. He didn't dare respond, fearing that if he focused on anything else except running, he would be caught. Despite the nagging in the back of his mind that told him that losing it was impossible, Jon forced himself to believe that somehow, some way, he could shake the impostor from his trail. But as far as he could see, the path only continued straight. Something scratched along the walls behind him, sending his feet into a more frantic pace. "Shit, shit!"

Having no other option but to continue forward, the Archivist wills himself to move as fast as he can to avoid falling victim to Sas- no, not Sasha. Whatever was chasing him was definitely not who it claimed to be, and that voice that taunted him was certainly not his coworker's... despite how familiar it sounded.

Jon had no time to turn around and watch his pursuer. But he didn't need to do that to guess that it had picked up its pace. It was coming, and it was coming fast.

"Jooooonnnnnnn !"

Its limbs scratch at the concrete walls as it advances rapidly.

"You'll just tire yourself out eventually, silly! What do you think will happen when you collapse on the ground, exhausted and vulnerable?"

Jon's paranoia makes him feel like something was breathing down his neck. But it was just the coldness of the air.

"I'll catch you. And then we'll be able to properly chat. Like friends! Friends do that all the time, don't they? Why are you doing this, Jon? Am I not a good friend to you? Isn't Sasha someone you can trust? You truly wound me, Jon!"

It almost sounded like it was trying to feign… sadness.

But Jon knew better than to listen to it.

He itched to scream back at it. To tell it that he knew it wasn't her, that it could never be Sasha. But instead, Jon grit his teeth and pushed onward. Then, to his left, he saw a dark patch in the wall. As he got closer, he noticed that it was an opening - another corridor. If he was fast enough, Jon could catch it off guard and use the weaving halls to his advantage. Jon let himself slow down a bit, and he could hear what wasn't Sasha gaining on him. Timing his movement just right, Jon skids over into the opening, turning his attention behind him to see the thing dash past with a growl of irritation.

Huffing a small laugh of victory, Jon turned around to gather his bearings of the new hall, but rather than seeing branching pathways, he instead saw concrete walls encasing him.

"Oh, no... no, no no--"

The monster slammed its claws down on the cold ground with satisfaction, cutting off the path to Jon's only escape.

"Found you, Jon."

There was a sickeningly triumphant grin to its voice as it slowly neared Jon, as if it had all the time in the world, its prey standing right before it.

"How about you face me properly, Jon? Come on, turn around. It would be boring if the last thing you ever saw was a wall, wouldn't you agree?" It sang, and this time, the cold breath creeping against Jon's nape was not his imagination.

His whole body shook, and his breathing became so fast that his vision began to blur. This was... god, this wasn't good at all. Jon's thoughts were a jumbled mess, and it was so hard to focus. He was going to die, he was sure of it. How could he be so stupid? Of course he wouldn't be able to outrun that thing. If it wasn't for him breaking that table--

The table. He still had the axe with him, didn't he? Jon gripped the handle tighter into his fists, knuckles turning white. The whole point of getting it was to make that thing hurt, right?

Well, hopefully it'll actually serve its purpose.

Slowly, Jon turned around, having to crane his head to meet the gaze of the monster that stared back with a dangerous glint in its eyes.

The being that wasn't Sasha stared right at him as he looked straight into its fake, glassy eyes.

"Good." It says, with a satisfied tone, lifting its hand- no, not a hand; this was far too big and sharp to be called one- from the ground, raising it to Jon's eye level.

"Remember when I told you I'd make this quick earlier?" It cackles, with that voice that did not belong to it. "I'm afraid Good old Sasha lied!"

It's going to strike.

"You. Are. Not. HER!"

One quick swing, and Jon manages to axe the beast's right limb. The force sends it slamming against a nearby wall and the thing shrieks with multiple voices at once, stumbling back.

"You...YOU!!!" It had not expected Jon to still be able to inflict any sort of damage on its body.

Clutching its wound, it emits a furious roar, and Jon swears his eardrums are about to pop.

He just has enough time to turn around and start running again before the creature tries to catch him, and it trips on itself.

No matter how far away Jon was getting, screams of anguish still rattled off of the walls around him. It sent a chill down his spine, and as he spotted a fork in the catacombs, a screech of muddled voices startled him. "GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE RAT!" It yells out, and the sound of it getting back onto what Jon supposed could be feet made its way down the hall.

As far as he was concerned, remembering how to navigate his way back out of the tunnels was the least of his problems. So Jon ducks and weaves through halls of all sizes, hoping that he'll eventually become so lost that not even the monster at his heels would be able to find him.

Not!Sasha wants to hunt him down to the ends of the Earth.

But first it needed to get its arm back. It quickly grabbed it and pressed the area that was freshly cut against its shoulder and the porcelain colored flesh melted, fusing the missing piece against its body.

It clutched its limb and stretched out its claws, briefly studying itself to see if that puny human caused any further damage.

It seemed satisfied.

It quickly looked at the direction where Jon had fled and it screeched again, getting back on all fours and rushing out, leaving the dead end behind.

" JON! " It howled like a dying animal.

" I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL DEVOUR YOUR ARM! THAT'S A PROMISE! "

It galloped through the halls, absolutely seething, scanning each nook and corners that could lead it to Jon's location.

" WHERE ARE YOU?! "

Its screams of rage had encouraged Jon to avoid staying in one place for too long. So he continues to let himself wander, some turns echoing the voice louder than others. He's not quite sure how long he's been running, but the aching in his legs is beginning to slow him down. "Come on, keep going...!" Jon grunts to himself as he tries to fight through the pain, but it's becoming apparent that he has to find somewhere to rest soon.

" Jooooonnnn.... " It hissed through gritted fangs, "If you show yourself now, maybe I won't tear you limb from limb. Come on, be a good friend and come out, won't you?" As the monster began to speak aloud again, Jon rounded a corner and pressed himself against the cold wall. Every bone within him shook, and it took everything in him to not slide down to the floor.

The creature snarled, still very much enraged by her previous wound. Even a monster of the Stranger can still feel pain, after all. And having to push its fake bones back into place wasn't exactly pleasant.

Seeing that Jon was still nowhere close to her, it halted for a brief instant. "Alright, I may have gotten a little bit angry earlier. But could you blame me? You literally cut my arm off! That's not a very nice thing to do to your friend, is it, Jon?"

Naturally, she knew this wasn't going to entice him to come to her. But it was fun to toy with him.

"You know," It says, "I wonder how your screams would sound like once I get you to the circus... Taking you apart pieces by pieces, to reshape you afterward… Kinda like Sasha, actually! Oh, you should have seen her! She did such a wonderful performance too, squirming under my claws.'' It chuckles, dragging on the last words of her sentence painfully. No matter how hard Jon tried to ignore the taunts of the beast, its words sank in deep. The second that it began to describe Sasha's body being torn apart and put together, he felt himself heave a bit. And yet they continued on, finding humor in how his dear friend suffered.

"She writhed and squirmed when I gave her new joints, too. Human bones are tough, that’s obvious, but they can always be upgraded to better material. No one would see the difference anyway! Especially not you, Jon."

It chuckled eerily.

"Oh, you should have heard her too! She kept on screaming at you and your acolytes' names, too! It was delightful to hear! Actually, why don't you listen to it yourself? You love to listen, don't you?" Jon's breathing began to pick up again until it became quick gasps of air. He did his best to get it under control, but then.

The sound Jon heard was the exact replica of Sasha's voice. He could hear the terror and the agonizing pain in her tone.

"Jon, Martin! Anyone! help, it-it hurts so much! Please, someone, get me out of here! Please! PLEASE, JON! HELP ME! "

It spoke like Sasha. The real Sasha. The begging and pleading that called out into the halls belonged to someone he couldn't recognize. But he knew without a doubt that it was her. "Oh, Christ... Sasha, s-she was--"

How long was she tormented? Ripped apart and reconstructed like some sort of sick puzzle?

" PLEASE, JON! HELP ME! "

"I-I'm so sorry, Sasha..!" Jon whimpered out, clamping a free hand to his mouth to stop a sob bubbling up his throat. The whole time, Sasha was alive, and they did nothing to help her.

The realization hit Jon with such an intensity that he collapsed down the wall with a pathetic thud. The axe followed shortly after, the metal clattering to the stone floor and ringing out beyond where the Archivist could see. He stiffened, eyes widening in horror and darting down to his weapon he had dropped on the floor.

Jon made a huge mistake.

The creature halted its grim imitation suddenly, turning its head sharply toward the direction of the noise she just heard.

Oh, that was too easy.

She did not need to look any longer, she knew exactly where her prey was now.

Not Sasha suddenly appeared right before him.

"There you are."

Jon barely had the time to get up and made another foolish attempt to flee. The monster had already seized his ankle with her inhumanly big, sharp hand, forcing the man to collide brutally against the hard floor beneath him. Jon gasped in pain at the force of the impact.

"Oh, no no, I’m not letting you go anywhere anytime soon!"

Jon uselessly thrashed and scraped his nails on the stone covered ground as Not Sasha simply dragged Jon back to her, flipping him unceremoniously on his back, so he could see her in her full glory, her entire body looming over him, caging him.

"No-- No, no no no--"

Jon's desperate pleas were cut off as the thing that wasn't his Sasha suddenly slammed her other hand against Jon's body, effectively pinning him down under its weight as its dangerous claws were big enough to cover and seize his body.

"Now… What am I going to do with you…?" It said, absolutely relishing the way Jon stared back at her with terrified eyes.

Oh, how much she loved to taste the fear of her prey. This was delightful.

"Hmm... I could do the same thing you did to me... But using that little axe of yours may make it too easy. I think cutting through you myself would be much more fun!" She spoke idly, biting back a laugh when their suggestion only caused the Archivist to squirm more.

"Oh, but I know how much you care about your old Sasha! Maybe taking you to see her one last time, broken and wrong would be more painful!" Jon managed to wriggle an arm out from its grasp, and attempted to punch their long fingers.

It didn't even phase them. "And if you're good, Jon," Not Sasha's face leered down to meet his own, her sharp grin reflecting in the glasses that framed Jon's panicked eyes.

"Maybe I'll tear you apart just like how I did her."

Jon felt his breath snag in his lungs. If being torn apart would be his reward for being "good" Then what would it be if he tried to actually fight back? Probably something worse than death itself.

He wasn't about to find out.

"Just- please, just let me go, I don't-"

"Ah, ah, ah! I didn't chase you through these tunnels all this time just to let you run again, you silly. No, no, I exactly know what I'm going to do with you."

Not Sasha grabbed Jon's wrist between the edge of its claws, observing it.

"Such a frail little limb. Wonder how long it'll take to break."

"Wait--"

Before Jon could utter another useless plea, the monster unhinged its jaws,and violently sank her teeth into his right shoulder, mirroring the damage that Jon did to her just before. The second her horribly sharp teeth punctured into his skin, Jon began to spiral into hysterics. His instincts told him to do something, anything, but the pain clouded his mind to the point where he wasn't able to focus on anything else. Jon screamed.

Not Sasha pulled and pulled on his arm, and a sickening squelch could be heard as her fangs kept digging deeper and deeper inside his shoulder.

As soon as he felt his shoulder about to give out under that thing's fangs, she suddenly released him, pulling her head back to reveal her freshly bloodstained face. It casually wiped the blood that dribbled down its chin, eyeing its work.

"...Actually, I just remembered that Nikola doesn't really like being handed broken playthings. I guess you get to keep your arm this time. Lucky you! ...But then again, I could always replace your arm with something different. I wonder if Nikola would mind… Hmmm."

She tapped her chin, seeming to seriously ponder that option.

“Oh, I sure hope she won't be mad at me for damaging you a bit.”

She looked almost worried, but more for the fact that she could get in trouble for harming Jon rather than being concerned about his well being.

The Not Them had briefly released Jon, as she was too busy trying to shred his shoulder into bits previously. The Archivist stumbled backwards in hopes of gaining some distance between them. But it took nothing more than a tug at his ankle to drag him back.

Hm, she must have tired him out. Good.

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to wait until I hear back from Nikola. In that case," Not Sasha grabbed hold of Jon's torso with one of its large disfigured hands, gripping tightly.

She hummed in satisfaction when she was able to feel the Archivist's heart hammering against her palm.

"It seems like you'll be coming with me." It squeezed him a bit tighter, chuckling as Jon screwed his eyes shut in agony. "N- no! I'll never- AH-!"

A claw prodded in one of the gory punctures on his arm. "Now, now. I was generous enough with letting you keep your arm... don't push it." They dug the finger in deeper to emphasize their point.

For the fun of it, Not Sasha left her claw in the wound, enjoying the sight of her prey writhing in pain. But soon enough, Jon tired himself out, slowly falling limp and shaking with exhaustion. "Someone, p-please...!" He begged. A last ditch effort on his behalf, Not Sasha was sure of it.

"Oh, come now, Jon, no one can hear you. I thought you knew that these tunnels keep things rather well hidden. If none of your friends were able to hear your screams, what makes you think they'll hear your pathetic whimpering?"

He went quiet at that.

"Good. Now, shall we go?"

"Martin, Tim, please...." Jon mumbled to himself, feeling himself close to passing out from the pain.

"I'll take that as a yes." ———————————————- Please let us know if you enjoyed that fic so we can be motivated to write more ❤️

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #magpodfic #not!sasha #not!them #the stranger #Its Strange serie #body horror #stabbing #generally creepy #simpirals #taikeero-lecoredier #the not them #tai's stories

[wtfdavidsvlogs]

Can I just get one big vlog squad imagine where reader is having a rough day and the squad makes them feel better maybe a party imagine or something similar

Sure girl hear ya are

Cause you had a bad day (V.S)

Warnings: pov being yelled at, drinking, swearing, angst, fluff

��It’s already 6:30, and you had all day to make these look amazing. These spreadsheets look like shit. You’re lazy, worthless, and obviously incompetent. Get your shit together and come back when you get your head out of your ass!” His words stung and made me feel like shit. I had been spending almost two weeks of two to three hour over time working on them. I was expecting a good result. Obviously, like always, my hopes are destroyed. He points at the door gesturing for me to leave.

“I’m sorry, sir.” I stood up to leave as tears finally fell from my eyes.

“Y/N,” He said gaining my attention again. I turn and quickly wiped the tears from my face.

“Yes sir?” I said with a quiet voice.

“You can actually just go home early today, and bring your things with you. We won’t be needing you here anymore.” He said without blinking. My mouth falls open and I let out a sob. I turn and leave his office quickly. I cover my mouth as I quickly speed walk to my desk to quickly get my things. People were already staring at me like I was insane. I tried to keep my eyes on what I was doing. It was hard when you could hear them talking about me five feet away from me as if I couldn’t hear them. I stood up infuriation the only emotion in mind.

“Cassandra, you have no fucking right to be talking about me when we all know that you don’t mind putting out for Hammond. Nick, you best keep your mouth shut before I whip my fucking phone at your thick head, you fake judgmental prick. And Angela, do you want to leave so that you’ll be spared or would you rather I bake your life, as well?” I stood there as all of their faces were etched with disgust and disbelief. I turn back around and grab the box I had with me full of my things. They all silently go back to work and I walk out of the office. I adjust my shirt and press the elevator button. I rotate my shoulder in order to raise the loosened, pesky strap. I groan with more frustration. I finally step into the elevator and press 1. The doors suddenly start to close slowly. I was carried down and put on the first floor. I exited the building and I was on the streets of downtown LA at night. Without any warning a semi truck comes down the streets and runs over the curb filled with the previous days rain water. I, thank God, was slashed head to toe in the filthy water. I gasp at the temperature. I was in shock that my day had already gone this badly. I went to sit on the bench as I felt more tears prick my eyes, this time more so from embarrassment. I take out my phone from my purse but to no avail, it was dead and there was not a single charger in sight. I hadn’t memorized any of their numbers so I couldn’t call them even if I did have access to a phone. So I just start walking. The drive was about fifteen minutes so I should be home in like two and a half maybe three hours tops.

I had been walking for about ten minutes until I saw a rambunctious little French Bulldog. I smiled at it and he started barking and getting all up in my business. It’s owner was desperately trying to get a hold of him. The french i’ve grabbed a hold of the fringes of my jeans and started ripping and running. My pant leg shortly was being torn up the side stopping at about my mid thigh. It’s owner finally caught him and deeply apologized. I looked down and about two feet up my leg was this giant strip of my pants gone. I sigh and look at the sky. I blinked as I suddenly felt a droplet of water hit my forehead.

“You are absolutely fucking joking. There is no way it’s raining right now. It started down pouring the very next second. My jaw falls open. It could not get worse than this I thought to myself. I kept trudging. No matter what, I just wanted to see my friends. The rain never let up, it rained for hours. All of my things slowly were being covered in water. It felt like I was going to just keep walking forever. It felt almost therapeutic. I could just gaze off and I didn’t have to focus on the pain I was feeling in my feet already. At this point I was just over half way finished with the trek I was on. I was crossing by a local park when I slipped on the smooth part of the side walk and my knees were the first thing to get impact. Bruised and bleeding I stood up and winced. I walked it off and kept going. The pain throbbing through out my knee like a fire in the dry wilderness. I only had about 45 minutes left of my journey. This is finally the home stretch, I thought. Of course, as it has been proven, I jinxed it. I finally started getting more towards the hills. With living in the hills however, when it rains, mud is your best friend. Mud will be anywhere that you don’t want it exactly when you don’t need it to be there. Like right now. My shoe slipped outward from under me and I fell into grass. Or what I thought was grass. I stood up and viewed what I was laying in. How about a 6 foot wide hole of straight wet nearly black mud? Oh yeah, I’d love to have that cascading down my back. I let out a yell of frustration. Yet, I kept walking. I was only about a half a mile away at this point. I was slow. My feet were dragging my eyes were heavy from crying and my face was droopy. My hair and clothes were just dripping. My knees were about to give let alone my poor destroyed feet in these overly expensive flats. I had finally reached David’s gate. I put in the code to open it and I immediately closed it. I trudge up to the door and rest my head on it as I knocked on the glass. I suddenly see Natalie stand up and walk towards the door. She looks up and see me standing there looking the way I do. She lets out a scream until she finally sees who I am. She quickly opens the door. I feel the warmth of an actual home again. I could finally discard these horrendous shoes. The rest of them had also stood up and were just staring at me. Without saying a word, I set my destroyed little box on the ground. I walk over to the kitchen to grab a red bull. I close the fridge as I cracked it open and took a couple of sips. I look back at all of them.

“Wanna tell us what the fuck happened to you, doll?” Jeff said before anybody.

“I was fired from my job. I screamed at three of my coworkers in front of 75+ people. I was hit with runoff water by a semi. I had to walk three hours to get back here cause I had no phone. I had my pants ripped by the cutest dog I’ve ever fucking seen. Then it started raining, more like down pouring nonstop. I scraped and bruised both of my knees. I fell into a huge thing of mud. My shoes are fucked. I’m sore, I’m upset and all I wanna do is shower and hang out with you guys for the night if that’s okay.” I said tears threatening to spill for the sixtieth time. My eyes were hurting at this point.

“Why didn’t you call one of us? We would have gotten you.” Zane said.

“Phone was dead and I didn’t have a charger or money to buy one.” I replied. “I just want to have a good night with you guys tonight is that okay? It’s literally all I have wanted since I left today.” They all nodded and I walked to the main bathroom. I finally turned on the hot water and discarded my clothes. The sopping wet dirty clothes that had been clinging to my skin making me freezing for hours. I stepped into the stream of hot water and sighed as relief overcame my body. The dirt running off of me, my body feeling warm. I spent 20 minutes in there.

“Nat, do you mind if I borrow some clothes I have nothing with me right now.” I yelled not fully opening the door and exposing myself. She came back five minutes later with a crop top and sweats. I threw my hair up and finally stepped out of the bathroom. Everyone there smiling at me. Zane and David moves so that I’d have a spot on the couch.

“Thank you.” I said quietly sitting down. I laid my head back and sighed at the relief from my feet finally not being in use.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Y/N. Why were you fired?” Jason asked.

“It seems like it was about these spreadsheet I was supposed to finish and have organized correctly but like always something was off. You know what, Hammond is a God Damn bully! After everything I have done for him and to protect his company from tanking, I should be the fucking CEO at this point! That motherfucker spends 20% of the company’s monthly earnings on drugs, alcohol, and strippers for his monthly ‘conference calls’ with other heads of the different branches. All of them are rich, scummy, lazy, entitled pieces of human fucking waste! The spreadsheets that I had spent my personal work time and nearly 15 hours of my overtime all for him to scream in my face that I’m lazy, worthless, and incompetent and then firing me. I am one of the best employees he has had in 20 years. I was being worked like a dog for days and weeks on end. All while being completely alone in the office due to the judgmental assholes that would eat shit straight out of Hammonds ass if it meant they kept their job.” I yelled about everything. Every part of working in that hell hole of a job. All of them shaking their head listening to the crude and annoying behavior of my old boss.

“I just don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do now, you know. I have to make house and car payments in a couple days and my last check will not even remotely be enough to cover it.” I said rubbing my head.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that part of things. I got you covered.” David said to me.

“David. No. I can’t take money from you.” I said not wanting to have to ultimately need to pay him back at some point.

“Y/N. You are our friend, I will take care of you for however long you need until you can start working again. No question.” David said holding my shoulders and looking me directly in the eye. I closed my eyes, reluctantly accepting his offer. “Perfect now that that is settled. I want to drink and Y/N I know for a fact you do too after your day honey.” Todd said with Zane backing him up. A smile comes to my face.

“Fuck yes.”

#alex ernst #brandon calvillo #corrina kopf #carly incontro #david dobrik imagines #david dobrik fanfiction #david dobrik smut #david dobrik #erin gilfoy #heath hussar #ilya fedorovich #jonah antonyan #jeff wittek #kristen mcatee #liza koshy #matt king #natalie mariduena #scotty sire #todd smith #vlog squad #vlog squad imagines #youtube imagines #zane hijazi