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seconds-not-decades · 2 years

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Step {Back} In Time

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem! OC

Author's Note: Hello and welcome. This is my season two fic (and sequel to Time and Chase). I will be posting daily. *Please note that I am well aware that Elliot Page portrays Viktor, but due to season two being before his transition, that is why his character is still Vanya. I am not deadnaming him and I sincerely hope I don't come across as such. I will transition when I write season three.*

Warnings: Exceptionally long post, cursing, violence, blood, and mentions of death.

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The End Of Something

~ * ~

On April the 1st, 2019, the Earth was destroyed in a cataclysmic event.

Billions of people were wiped out in a matter of minutes.

Ironically, the seven survivors of the apocalypse were the very family members who brought it on.

~ * ~

All of the Hargreeves were inside Elliot's place, watching the news unfold on a TV.

"Authorities are asking for help identifying several persons of interest at Dealey Plaza at the time of the assassination. The FBI believes they may have been acting in concert with the alleged shooter, Lee Harvey Oswald. Vanya Hargreeves, wanted in connection with the deaths of several FBI agents inside the federal building at Dealey Plaza. A Cuban exile known only as Diego…" the reporter said, showing photos of each member.

"Cuban?" Diego scoffed.

"…Who recently escaped from the Holbrook Sanitarium. A bare-knuckle boxer with suspected Mafia ties who fights under the alias "King Kong." Allison Chestnut, a Negro radical responsible for instigating and organizing the recent riots at Stadtler's lunch counter. And finally, Klaus, the controversial cult leader and known tax evader. The FBI is asking the public to be on the lookout for this unidentified boy and girl, who they believe are being held hostage by the suspected terrorist network."

Five and Karina glanced at one another.

"Well, it's true. I personally feel like I'm being held hostage most days," Five agreed.

"God, I hate that photo," Diego complained.

"They're saying I instigated the riot?" Allison scoffed. "That's unbelievable."

"Look, the good news is that we restored the timeline and we stopped doomsday," Luther sighed. "So-"

"Yeah, a bunch of real goddamn heroes. We let Kennedy die," Diego cut him off.

"Yeah, and now we're officially the most wanted people in the world," Allison piped up. "The FBI is after us, the Dallas police, the Secret Service. It's only a matter of time before they hunt us down here."

"Well, where are we supposed to go?" Vanya glanced around as Klaus made his way downstairs.

"I have this yurt just outside Reykjavik," he announced. "We could totally lay low there. Folks there are a little weird, but lovely."

"Hey, numbnuts," Five eyed him. "Hiding's not gonna make a difference here."

"The Commission will hunt us down wherever and whenever we go," Karina sighed.

"She's right. They'll never stop," Diego nodded.

That caused Five and Karina to slowly look at him in surprise.

"I'm sorry, since when are you an expert on the Commission?" Five crossed his arms defensively.

"Since I got back from there."

The two stared at him in shock. "What?"

"Yeah, they headhunted me, offered me a job. Full time with benefits, which I had to turn down," he responded.

Five couldn't hold back a forming smirk. "They headhunted you?" He scoffed. "The village idiot."

"Five! Be more sensible! Did they hurt you?" Karina looked at Diego in concern.

"I'm fine. Thanks Karina," he smiled at her and then glared at Five. "What, am I not allowed to be headhunted? Only the almighty Five needs to be in demand?"

"Diego, you're not Commission material, all right? Got an obstinate nature to ya," Five returned.

"Who do you think it was that figured out Vanya was the one that causes doomsday and stopped it? Me!"

Everyone scoffed or rolled their eyes.

"Hey!" Klaus interjected.

Diego bent down to Five's level. "That's who. I figured it all out on the Infinite Switchboard."

"You were on the Infinite Switchboard?" Five looked at him in surprise.

"Hell, yeah! I made that machine my bitch!" Diego boasted rather loudly. "Y'all need to recognize I got shit going on y'all don't even know about." He looked around.

"Oh, sorry. You've got things going on?" Allison shot.

"This isn't helpful," Luther muttered as he passed by.

"Look, I met the Résistance in their secret lair. All right? I went through orientation and I passed and I stopped doomsday," Diego remarked as Vanya went upstairs.

The others didn't notice however. They were arguing, of course.

"At least I wasn't busy playing with myself," Diego remarked.

"Can you dispense with the dick-measuring for five minutes?" Allison shot.

"Unless you can literally, 'cause Ben and I-" Klaus started.

"We don't have time for this," Luther cut him off.

"Yeah, the Feds could be here any minute," Karina added.

Allison nodded. "That's what I've been saying."

"I'm agreeing!" Luther was defensive.

Five eyed him. "Okay, calm down, Hairy-"

"Hey, it's King Kong. And I'm sick of your ass, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, you win," Diego mocked Luther.

"Guys, we need to move, okay? That is more important here. That is our only option," Luther retorted.

"We need to box those windows and stay here," Diego disagreed.

Vanya came back downstairs. "I'm leaving."

"What? To go where?" Allison stood up.

"Sissy's farm. Something's wrong with Harlan, and I need to help him," Vanya responded.

"Vanya, we need to stick together, okay? Now more than ever," Luther chimed in.

"That's why I'm telling you this. Whatever's going on with Harlan, I think I might've caused it."

"How?"

She sighed. "He drowned, and, uh, somehow I was able to bring him back to life. And now it's like we're connected."

"Wh-What does that even mean?" Luther glanced around in confusion.

"I don't know. I can't explain, but…I know that he needs my help," she sighed softly. "I need your help, too. I'm scared. And for the first time in my life, I don't wanna do it alone. I want my family by my side."

Everyone gazed at her quietly.

That was when Diego made the move. "Look, I'm sorry. We have other priorities right now."

"Diego's right. For once," Five added a bit reluctantly. "We need to make our stand here and now."

Vanya looked away, obviously let down. "Okay. I guess I'll see you when I see you." She left the room.

Karina glanced around at the siblings and shook her head. "I'm going after her," she announced.

"Rina! We can't. Not with everyone after us," Five stopped her and she turned around.

"Five, I'm sorry, but I can't just let her go off on her own like that. This probably isn't an easy decision for her either. I mean, put yourself in her shoes for a moment. Harlan's a young boy with frightening powers and you are the only one who can possibly help him control it. Wouldn't any of you want to help him and try to make things right?" Karina pointed out. Then she sighed. "Besides, either way we go, we're going down. So, I don't know about anyone else but, I might as well go down doing the right thing."

With that, she left the building as well before anyone could stop her. Vanya was in the car when Karina opened the door and slid into the front seat next to her.

"You know, my aunt and uncle used to own a farm," Karina casually began, smiling at a shocked Vanya. "I used to go horse back riding all the time when I was younger. The faster the horse went, the more I felt like I was soaring. Say, do Sissy and Harlan have any animals?"

"Karina, what are you-" Vanya was even more stunned when Klaus appeared.

"Hullo there ladies," he huffed as he slid inside next to Karina. "So, so, so…Ben, huh? Gone forever. Isn't he?"

Vanya was looking at him a bit sadly. "He traded his life for mine…while he saved the world in the process."

"Pfft," he scoffed. "Show-off. But did he…say anything about…me?"

Vanya nodded and Klaus looked intrigued.

"He wanted me to tell you that he was too scared to go to the light. It wasn't you that made him stay," she responded.

Klaus chuckled flatly. "Oh, that little shit-heel." He scoffed softly. "All these years, and I thought it was my fault that he didn't take his ticket to heaven." He laughed and then sighed when he looked down.

"Look, I'm sorry, but…you should get out, 'cause I need to-" Vanya started.

"Oh, no, I'm coming with. I can't let you and Karina face the unknown alone, right?" Klaus said as footsteps approached.

Diego and Allison slid into the backseats.

"Got room for two more?" Allison asked as the doors shut.

"What about the Commission?" Vanya looked back at them.

Diego sighed and glanced at Vanya and Karina. "Our dear sister-in-law was right. We might as well do some good before we die horribly."

"Whoo-hoo!" Klaus cheered as Karina smiled back.

"Oh!" Vanya jumped when she saw Five open the front door. "Five, you-you don't have to-"

"I know," he returned, looking at her. "You owe me one, sis." He looked at Karina and smiled softly, giving her a nod. Then he eyed Klaus. "You're taking up my seat next to my wife. Children ride in the back."

"Okay," Klaus didn't hesitate to slide over the front seat into the back row, quite literally.

Allison and Diego scrambled to make room.

"Whoa! Oh, Christ!" Allison muttered as Klaus grunted, plopping down.

Five slipped into the seat next to Karina, wrapping his arm around her. "In case you never knew this: you have a very convincing way with words, my darling."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," she lightly joked and blushed when he kissed her cheek.

"Guys, I don't know what to say," Vanya looked at her family, touched by their support.

The trunk opened and Luther clumsily climbed in, making the car creak loudly and crunch some. The door slammed shut.

"Anyone makes a fat joke, and I'm outta here," Luther commented.

Vanya smiled and took off for the farm.

~ * ~

When they got to the farm, there was a huge snow storm swirling madly around in the sky. Energy crackled and sizzled. Lightning struck the barn.

"You think whatever's going on inside is causing the cold front?" Diego asked as everyone got out of the car.

"Well, the correlation is high," Five looked up at it.

"Sissy!" Vanya called out and the barn door opened. Sissy came racing out with a gun held high. "Sissy!" she rushed towards her.

"Get back!" Sissy yelled protectively. "All of you, just get the hell back!"

"Sissy! Hey! Hey! What's wrong?" Vanya was worried.

Sissy was panting some. "Carl."

"What did he do to you?"

"He's…He's dead," Sissy was breathing shakily now. "Harlan tossed him aside like a rag doll, same way you sent those policemen flyin'. What did you do to him?"

"No-"

"Vanya, what the hell did you do to my son?"

"Don't have time for this," Diego began to move forward.

"Where you think you're going?" Sissy aimed her gun at him.

"To help your son," he held his hand up disarmingly.

"Look, Sissy, I found my family. These are my brothers, my sister, and my sister-in-law," Vanya introduced them.

"Ma'am," Luther lifted a hand in greeting at Sissy.

"Were you lyin' to me the whole time?" Sissy questioned Vanya.

"Of course not. Look, I didn't know who I was. But I do now. And we are not the monsters that they say we are. We did not kill the president. We are not terrorists. We're not here to hurt anyone."

"Then…" Sissy paused softly. "Who are you?"

"The only one who can help Harlan," Vanya answered.

Sissy hesitated for a second before she nodded and everyone raced into the barn. Harlan was suspended in the air, jerking around and surrounded by a huge swirling surge of energy.

"Harlan?" Vanya yelled over the howling wind. "Harlan, it's Vanya!"

Harlan was gasping and twitching.

"Look, Harlan, I know you're really scared, but I can help you. I need you to listen to me, okay? Can you do that?"

Harlan continued gasping and a high-pitched tone resonated. Vanya began to glow as she went through the surge.

"Careful!" Five warned as everyone else watched anxiously.

Energy whooshed nearby, causing Klaus to go over to the door. He spotted two figures in the field in the distance.

"Uh…guys?" he spoke up. The others glanced his way.

"What?" Diego asked as he went over to his side, along with the others. "Ah, shit," he cursed.

"What, who are they?" Klaus wanted to know.

"One's the Handler, the other's Diego's girlfriend, Lila," Five answered.

"That's my ex-girlfriend," Diego corrected him instantly.

"What?" Klaus eyed him.

"You know what? Doesn't matter. They both look angry," Luther observed.

"Yeah. Our brother has that effect on people," Allison remarked.

"I'm gonna go find out what they want. You guys stay with Vanya and the kid," Five stepped out.

"I'm coming with you, too," Diego and Karina said in unison.

The three made their way out to the two.

The Handler chuckled. "I love the smell of that fresh country air, don't you, darling?" she asked Lila.

"Makes me want to vomit," Lila replied.

"What do you want?" Five got right to the point.

"To watch you and your pretty little blonde suffer," Lila seethed.

"What about me?" Diego spoke up.

"You're not even worth my wrath."

"Easy," the Handler chided. "We're here on official business."

"And what business is that?" Karina almost challenged.

"As the head of the Commission, I've decided to eliminate the criminals responsible for the assassination of the former board of directors," the Handler replied, causing Karina to exchange a look with Five.

"Yeah, right. We didn't kill the board," Diego remarked.

Five fidgeted some. "Uh, actually, Diego, that's not entirely accurate."

"You didn't tell them. Oh, Five. And Karina! I thought you would have known better to stop keeping big secrets from your family," the Handler mocked them.

"Five, Karina, what the hell did you two do?" Diego eyed them.

"What we had to to get our family home," Five replied.

"Until somebody reneged on our deal," Karina shot.

"Somebody wouldn't have reneged if somebodies could've met a simple deadline," the Handler shot back. "Alas."

"You set us up to fail," Five snapped.

"You set yourselves up to fail, friend. You and your wife and your brothers and sisters. Kinda the running theme of your little lives, isn't it?" the Handler laughed.

"Dude, I can't believe you and Karina killed the board of directors!" Diego exclaimed. "You have no idea how messed up the Commission is right now!"

That caught the Handler off-guard. "Messed up? Who's saying that?"

"Everybody. Christ, even the janitors think it's going to shit."

"That's not all they killed," Lila was shooting a death glare at Five and Karina.

"What are you talking about?" Five furrowed his brows.

"I never killed anyone," Karina added confusedly.

"Don't play dumb, you prepubescent pieces of shit."

"Enough. The point is, all of you are going to die today. Hmm?" the Handler was getting impatient now.

"Oh. Well, I don't like your chances. Seven of us, two of you," Diego challenged.

"You know, you're right. Let's change that," the Handler snapped her fingers.

Dozens upon hundreds of Commission Officers began to appear now. Diego and Five stepped back some as Five shoved Karina behind him.

"Oh, my God, Diego, why can't you just shut up for once in your life?" Karina muttered, clinging to Five's side.

The officers cocked their weapons into place. Five exhaled shakily, trying to calculate the odds of them making it out alive.

"So what do we do now?" Diego whispered.

"Well, we got two choices: fight and die now or run and die later. Either way, we're food for worms," Five replied honestly.

"Preference, doll?" Karina glanced at him.

"Wouldn't mind a few more minutes breathing air through the old windbags and spending a little more time with you, my love," he responded.

"Thanks, I'll be fine, too," Diego chimed in sarcastically.

"All right. Let's get this over with, shall we?" the Handler held up a red piece of fabric.

"Run!" Five yelled and the three fled the field.

The officers chased after them as rapid gunfire filled the air. They were ducking and avoiding the bullets as best as they could.

Diego grunted, barely missing a round. "We're not gonna make it!"

Five grabbed both him and Karina.

"What are you doing?" Diego shouted.

Suddenly they blinked out, reappearing near the house.

Diego stumbled some as Karina caught him. "Five, I think I'm gonna puke!" he exclaimed.

"No time!" Five remarked and the three raced behind the tractor, ducking for cover. Bullets struck the tractor, ricocheting off.

"You gotta blink us into the house, man!" Diego cried.

Five grabbed the two and tried to blink out, but his powers kept sputtering.

"What?!" Diego nearly shrieked.

"Shit, I'm out of fuel!" Five cursed himself out. "I'm too tired."

"Go! Both of you! I'll…I'll cover for you," Diego smacked Five.

"Diego, what are you-" Karina began.

"Go!" Diego raced out.

Five grabbed Karina's hand and yanked her to her feet as the two ran for the house. While Diego stopped most of the bullets, the two raced up the porch. Five yanked the door open and pushed Karina inside first. They slid under the table and he flung himself on top of her, shielding her. Bullets were still flying, glass was breaking, and the lights crazily flickered out.

Meanwhile outside, Vanya had joined the fight. She was flying above and sent a bright blue energy wave to take out the Commission Agents. The gunshots stopped as everyone slowly got up, wondering if this was the end and the fight was over with.

However, a glowing blue bubble encased Lila and the Handler. It dissolved as Lila reciprocated the same orb of energy as Vanya, flying up. She sent her own energy blast, sending everyone flying back. Five and Karina quickly moved from the window as Luther came crashing through the roof and into the living room.

"Luther, are you all right?" Karina asked as they hurried over to him.

"Oh, I think I swallowed my tongue," he rasped out.

"Luther, if you swallowed your tongue, you wouldn't be talking, you big moron," Five scoffed. "Come on, on your feet."

Luther groaned as he sluggishly got up with their help. "Hey, what the hell happened? What was that?"

"She must've redirected Vanya's energy wave," Karina glanced towards the window.

"Yeah, I know, but how?" Luther remarked.

Five glanced up as the chimney began to crumble. "Luther, Rina, watch out!" he shoved them out of the way as the bricks collapsed onto him and buried him.

"Five!" Karina screamed, racing over to the pile. "Five! No! Luther! Help me!" she began to panic.

"Five!" Luther began to try moving bricks.

Suddenly, Lila blinked in, chuckling when she saw them.

"What are you?" Luther slowly got to his feet as Karina scowled.

"Someone who wants to kill your brother," Lila responded coldly.

"Well, that's understandable. Diego can be a lot to handle," Luther admitted.

"Yeah, I was talking about Five."

"Him, too."

"And just for good measure, I'll just kill you too," Lila was glaring at Karina now.

Luther stepped in front of Karina. "But, unfortunately, they're family, so you're shit out of luck."

"Luther, wait!" Karina cried as he threw a punch.

Luther grunted, groaning when Lila caught his fist. He started grimacing as his leather glove creaked. "How is this possible?" he strained out and grunted.

"Gotta believe in yourself, big boy," she remarked before throwing him out of the house.

"Luther, no!" Karina cried.

"Luther!" Allison came running over to his side. "Luther!"

Lila glared back at Karina. "I'll be back for you and your pathetic excuse of a husband." She strode over to the hole in the wall. "Oi!" she caught Allison's attention. "Hi." She grinned.

Lila and Allison began to fight now as Karina went back to trying to unbury Five.

"Come on, love, where are you? I need you!" she was fighting desperately not to cry, scavenging through the pile. "Five, please, if you can hear me just say something or make a noise! Please!" she gasped when she looked up and saw Allison begin to choke. "Allison, no!" she exclaimed as Luther barely caught Allison.

Bricks began to shift as a groan came from beneath the rubble.

"Five!" Karina breathed a sigh in relief when his head slowly popped up. "Five, thank God!"

"Rina…" he coughed as she clumsily helped him to his feet.

"Lila! She-She-her powers! I-"

"Rina!" Five grabbed her by the shoulders. "I know, my love, I know. Are you okay, did she hurt you?"

Karina shook her head and he wiped her eyes gently.

"Okay. Let's go," he nodded, kissing her forehead comfortingly. He went over to the hole. "You looking for us?" he caught Lila's attention.

Lila saw him and scowled. "You little turd."

"Let's dance," Five blinked out.

The two blinked inside as Five caught Lila's fist and Karina ducked to avoid being kicked. Lila punched her back and she caught her other hand, shoving her back. Five threw another punch but Lila blinked to behind him. He whipped around and grunted when her fist collided with his face. He staggered back as Karina kicked Lila across the face and dodged a punch, kneeing her in the stomach.

"For the bloody Head of the Briefcase Division-" Lila punched Karina, shoving her into the nearest, standing wall. "You are remarkably good."

"What can I say, I had a good teacher," Karina spat, not forgetting how rather unfairly ruthless the Handler made her training sessions.

Five blinked in front of Lila but she punched him again and blinked out, reappearing on the counter. He inhaled sharply.

"Careful, now, or you are going to tire yourself out," she advised him mockingly.

"How are you doing this?" Five was breathless.

"Oh, anything that you can do, I can do better," Lila grabbed a nearby skillet and blinked out.

Five blinked out with Karina at the same time.

~ * ~

The three reappeared in the barn. Five saw Lila about to throw the skillet, so he blinked out with Karina. Lila turned and when they reappeared, she threw it. It hit Five clean in the head, causing him to shout and fall to the ground.

"Five!" Karina cried, whipping around to face Lila and punched her.

She staggered back, hitting her in the side. Karina yelped in pain, grabbing her hand and twisting it back.

"You little shit!" Lila blinked away and Karina stumbled some. Lila reappeared, tackling her to the ground and punching her.

Karina shouted, noticing her vision blur ever so slightly and her head start to pound relentlessly. Lila ended up kicking her in the ribs, causing Karina to curse loudly. She groaned in pain, clutching her stomach and curling up some. Before Five could make a move, Lila quickly put her foot on his throat, though he caught it just in time and struggled to stop her.

"Doesn't feel so good, does it?" Lila mocked him.

"Lila-" Karina wheezed out some.

"Oh, shut your mouth!"

"Eat shit and die!" Five choked out.

Lila cried out as he threw her off of him and she landed with a shout. Five groaned as he got up and he gently helped Karina to her feet.

"Come on. What are you waiting for? Let's finish this thing," Five readied himself, watching her angrily.

"No," she breathlessly whispered and sniffled some. "This isn't gonna be quick. For either of you. You two are going to suffer for what you did."

Five scoffed. "Lady, I got no idea what you're talkin' about."

"I never did anything to you," Karina added.

"Ronnie and Anita Gill," Lila spoke.

"Mean nothing to us," Five countered.

"1993, East London. You hog-tied them and you shot them in the head," Lila said to Five and looked at Karina next. "You, built the briefcase that sent him there. Guilty by association. If you hadn't made that bloody device, they would still be alive!"

Five paused, exchanging a look of realization with Karina. "The flower merchants," Five drew out quietly.

"They were your parents," Karina followed in a hollow voice.

"And they never did anything to anyone. They didn't deserve to die like that!"

Five remembered now. "You're right, all right? I killed them. But I killed a lot of people over the years. It was all just a job. All right?"

"And I didn't know anything about the mission. I made the briefcase because it was my job. All I knew was the time and the location. Not who," Karina added reasonably.

"What we did was never personal," Five finished.

Lila laughed bitterly. "'Never personal,' my ass. Yeah, I've killed. It's always, always personal."

"That's why you're not cut out to be an assassin."

"Bet your life on that?" Lila challenged, pulling out a dagger.

"You wanna blame someone? Blame the Handler, all right? She faked the kill order," Five told her, pushing Karina behind him protectively.

"Bullshit," Lila spat. "I saw the kill order and the briefcase instructions. AJ Carmichael ordered it, and you both carried it out."

"Lila, listen to what we're telling you, all right? The Handler gave Five the kill order and she gave me the briefcase blueprints," Karina tried to stay calm.

"She came on the job, which she'd never done before," Five continued. "You're Commission. You know execs never go on jobs, but that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself why."

"Stop trying to muddy the waters," Lila hissed.

"I never realized what she was up to at the time, but…now it all makes sense."

"What?"

"She never cared about your parents-" Five began and Karina chimed in in realization when he said, "She was looking for you."

"Why?" Lila barely made out in a whisper.

Diego suddenly came into the barn with the others. "'Cause you're one of us. The Handler stole you, Lila. Just like our asshоlе father took all of us."

"No. It's not the same thing," Lila argued.

"You're right. Because he didn't have our parents murdered," Diego tried to keep her calm. "Listen to me, Lila. You were born October 1, 1989, the same day as all of us."

"Stay back!" Lila yelled at the others started to surround her and everyone backed away.

"Hey! Hey, stop! Wait. Wait. Hey! Lila? Lila, stop," Diego ordered.

"I trusted you. I got you a job, I even introduced you to my mother, and then you took off on me," Lila accused.

"Because I needed to save the world!" Diego interrupted her. "She's using you, Lila. The Handler."

"You're wrong. She raised me. She loves me," Lila fought.

"Yeah, you know what? Love shouldn't have to hurt this much," Luther spoke up.

Lila looked at him and then mockingly gagged.

Luther frowned. "All right, I tried."

"He's right. We have to kill her," Five went near Lila.

"Hey! Five!" Diego shouted to him.

"Five, stop, just wait a minute," Karina caught his arm.

"I got it," Diego reassured his brother and then looked back at Lila. "Hey, Lila. Truth? She's dangerous. And you're scared of what she'll do with all that new power. That's why you dragged me to the Commission. Because I know what it's like to love dangerous people." He was gazing at her now. "Difference is…" He glanced around at his family. "They love me back."

"Shut up," Lila quietly choked out, holding her knife up at him.

"The only thing she loves is power. Now, the minute she can't use you, she will turn on you, and deep down, I know you know that."

"You don't know me, Diego."

"Don't I?" he was standing in front of her now, looking down at her and she was gazing up at him through watery eyes. "I know that we can be your family…if you just let us."

Lila glanced around at the Hargreeves surrounding her. The moment was ruined however when an automatic gunfire went off, shooting everyone down as Lila dove out of the way.

"Diego, no," Lila choked out as she rushed to his side.

The Handler glanced around triumphantly and strolled into the barn. Lila was sniffling over Diego's body.

"Aww," the Handler almost mocked.

Lila sat back on her knees blankly. "It's true, what Five and Karina said, isn't it?"

"Darling, I need to know that we can get past this, be a happy family again. Hmm?"

Lila looked at her, slowly standing up. "They're my real family." She went over to stand in front of the Handler. "Do you even love me?"

The Handler merely gazed at her and just when Lila was about to stab her, the Handler shot her down as well.

"Que será, será," the Handler hummed over her. Soft, pained gasps made her turn and look to see who remained: Five. "Oh, good. You're still alive." The Handler walked over to his side. "Lucky you. You got to see how this all played out."

The Handler raised her gun to kill him, but another gunshot rang out. The Handler gasped sharply and fell to the ground, dead.

Five felt the agonizing pain of several bullets slowly taking his life away. Every breath got harder to inhale and every blink made his eyelids heavier. His siblings were already dead, surrounding him. And Axel was looming over Five, the head of his gun pointing down at him.

If talking wasn't feeling like a heavy burden, Five would have dared him to pull the trigger. His mind was racing enough, wondering if this was the end of the Umbrella Academy. If this was truly where all his efforts and plans on ending apocalypses and saving his family landed him.

Five swallowed a lump in his throat as his eyes flicked to his left. And that's where he saw her.

Karina.

Five wanted to believe she was just asleep. She was just resting. He knew better. Losing his family was one thing. Losing his significant other was another.

He looked back up at Axel, feeling energy from his determination and desperation to save his family build within him. Familiar blue light began to form in his hands. Voices and memories of his siblings echoed in the back of his mind.

"This doesn't have to mean the end. We can use my ability to time travel," Five told his siblings in 2019, in the opera house.

"You got us stuck here in the first place," Luther accused him when he was at the bar.

He remembered himself and Karina fall through the portal between 1963 and 2019.

"Start small. Seconds, not decades," Sir Reginald Hargreeves himself, advised.

"You were always eager for more. More and more. Insatiable, really. Use that hunger to save the world," Karina told him when they were planning on escaping The Commission.

Five could slowly hear her now over all the other voices. And he clung to that.

"If you go, so do I. We're in this together. We vowed to do things together," her voice continued to echo.

"I'm right here. I'm not leaving you, I promise."

"I trust you more than anyone."

"I believe in you."

"Show me how we're good. Because, I think we could do some good."

"Home became a person and not a place anymore when I met you."

"Let's go save the world, my darling."

Five was desperately grappling onto those memories. Latching onto anything that kept him grounded, because in truth, Karina kept him grounded. He saw the events around him in an almost rewind motion. The Handler's death reversed, his siblings deaths reversed, Karina's death reversed, and everything reversed.

Five felt himself running back through time, literally. He got to the other side of the barn where he cut off his powers. Everyone was alive again.

Diego was standing in front of Lila, looking down at her and she was gazing up at him through watery eyes. "I know that we can be your family…if you just let us."

The moment that the Handler appeared, Five grabbed her gun and pointed it at her. She gasped, slowly holding her hands up in surrender.

"It's true, isn't it?" Lila asked her. "What Five and Karina said."

The Handler looked away, wondering how to overpower the group.

"Answer me!" Lila snapped. "Is it true?"

"Well-" the Handler began but Axel appeared from behind and shot her down.

She grunted softly and fell to the ground, dead. Everyone was horrified as Lila eyed the lone briefcase. She lunged for it.

Luther gasped. "The case!"

"No!" Diego tackled him and they landed with a grunt.

Luther groaned as Lila blinked out with the briefcase. Five cocked his weapon, looking at Axel closely. Everyone evenly watched Axel before Five held his hand up and dropped the gun.

"Enough," Five spoke.

Axel glanced around the room. "Enough," he returned in Swedish, tossing his gun and leaving the barn.

"I almost had her. Why the hell did you stop me?" Luther glared at Diego.

"Because…I love her," Diego strained out a smile as they got to their feet.

"Who the hell was that guy?" Klaus pointed to where Axel left.

"Vanya! Help!" Sissy's voice cried.

Vanya gasped. "Harlan!" she raced out.

Everyone exchanged a glance and then raced down to where they were.

"Sissy?" Vanya called out.

Harlan was cowering on the ground, surrounded by yet another swirling surge of energy.

"Harlan? Harlan! Whatever it is I gave you, I can take it back, okay?" Vanya joined him as everyone outside watched anxiously. "We just, we need to stop this."

Harlan whimpered softly. Vanya put her hands on the boy and energy began whooshing. Soon a bright orb of blue and a small wave rippled through the air, breaking through the surge and ending it. Vanya gasped, falling back. She was panting as she looked at Harlan, who was back to normal now. He looked at Sissy.

She gasped softly and raced over to her son. "Oh, baby. Oh, baby. Oh!" she hugged him tightly, sobbing gratefully.

Vanya looked up at her family with a smile.

A familiar whoosh sounded outside and Diego, Five, and Karina went to see who it was. Luckily, it was only Herb and Dot.

"Herb. Dot," Five greeted when they met in the middle.

"Hi," Dot greeted as Herb chuckled.

"Sup, Herbie?" Diego exchanged a high five/slap/fist bump greeting.

"Hey! My man," Herb chuckled.

"All good?" Diego asked.

"Good to see you guys," Karina smiled.

Dot lit up. "Karina! Good to see you, my dear." She hugged her tightly.

"If it isn't the always lovely Mrs.," Herb shook her hand next. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Hi Herb. It has been some time," Karina smiled as Five wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing a gentle kiss into her hair.

Herb blew out some air and sighed. "I can't believe it. Is she…?"

"Really dead this time?" Five finished.

"Oh, yeah," Diego confirmed.

"Oh," Herb whispered.

"Now that the Handler's gone, what happens at Commission?" Karina inquired curiously.

Herb hesitated to answer.

"Just tell them!" Dot urged him.

"Eh-" Herb relented. "Well…we need to elect a new board of directors. But, until then, I, um…I've been voted in as acting chairperson."

Dot squealed softly and clapped happily.

"No shit. Congrats, Herbie," Diego told him as Five and Karina smiled from the news. "That's huge!"

"I'm so goddamn nervous!" Herb admitted.

"You'll do fine," Five reassured him warmly.

"Oh, thank you."

"Herb, we need a favor," Five continued.

"Oh, sure, anything."

"A briefcase. Get back home, where we belong."

Herb glanced around at the field. "Take your pick."

~ * ~

Later that night while everyone was saying their goodbyes and making last minute checks to know that everything would be set right, Five found Karina sitting off near a tree.

"Peaceful isn't it?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

Karina nodded, looking down at her necklace. She was fiddling with it thoughtfully.

"Hey," Five took her hand, stopping her. He looked at her. "What's going through that pretty head of yours?"

She sighed. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"It looks like something to me. You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"It'll probably sound insane," Karina scoffed under her breath.

"Insane?" Five repeated. "My darling, you managed to rally up my siblings in a matter of minutes when it has taken me hours or days. Believe me, you are the most sane person out there."

"Jealous, are we?" she eyed him teasingly.

He laughed airily. "No. Impressed. And proud. Besides, it proves my point. If they don't listen to me, at least they listen to you."

"I think I was a little too harsh," she admitted.

"Harsh? That was the nicest, "suck it up assholes", speech we've ever gotten. You rightfully put us in our place and look where it got us. We won," Five smiled.

Karina softly smiled back and looked down again.

"Rina," he tilted her chin up to face him. "Tell me what's troubling you."

Karina sighed. "It's Lila and her situation with the Handler. You know, I always wondered why she kept me as a kid. And now I seriously want to know why. I didn't have any powers. I wasn't made of magic. I'm just…me. Ordinary, local me. I didn't have anything special to offer. So, why did she take me from the one thing I ever knew as family?"

Five looked at her sadly. He bit his lip. Here he was, always used to having the answers. But this one? Unfortunately he didn't. And that hurt immensely, because he knew deep down Karina craved to have that answer.

"Oh, my love, I wish I knew," he sighed softly. "I'm sorry."

Karina nodded blankly. "Me, too."

"You know, if you want to see the better side of it…we would have never met," he tried to cheer her up. "I wouldn't have found you."

"I know. I am grateful to have you," Karina smiled at him.

"As am I," he pulled her into him in a tight, loving embrace. "And I never want to lose you. Ever."

She relaxed into his arms, feeling him kiss her forehead. She wondered and worried why exactly he said that, but, she didn't linger on it.

Of course she had no idea she died and he rewound time after seeing her dead body next to him.

"Hey! Lovebirds! Let's get out of here!" Diego called to the couple.

Five grinned, getting to his feet and helping Karina up to hers. He gave her forehead another kiss, making her laugh before he blinked them over. Everyone huddled up as Luther exhaled.

"Everyone ready?" Five looked around.

"Let's do it, yeah," Luther nodded.

"Okay."

They all took one another's shoulders.

"Wait!" Klaus exclaimed. He hurried over to grab a cowboy hat hanging from the porch railing.

"Fifty bucks if we leave him here," Diego whispered to Five and Five shot him a look.

Klaus ran back to the others and nodded. Everyone braced themselves as Five activated the briefcase. It clicked open and with a bright blue flash, took all of the Hargreeves out of 1963, Dallas.

~ * ~

April 2, 2019

They all reappeared in the entry hall of the Hargreeves Mansion. Everyone gasped, stumbling back.

Allison sighed, panting as she looked around.

"Oh, good God," Luther choked out.

They were all panting and groaning.

"Wh-What day is it?" Klaus wanted to know.

Five grabbed a newspaper from the table. "April 2, 2019. Day after the apocalypse," he announced.

"Wait, so we stopped it," Allison said.

"My God, it's over?" Vanya was elated from that.

"Did we…actually succeed at something?" Klaus whimpered.

"That's incredible!" Karina exclaimed.

Everyone laughed triumphantly.

"Oh!" Klaus cried happily.

"All right!" Luther cheered.

"I don't know about you guys, but I need a drink," Klaus announced.

Luther nodded. "Yes. In fact, I need several."

"I'm in. I'm in," Diego and Vanya echoed.

"I should go find Claire," Allison spoke up.

"Oh, come on, one drink," Luther took her over to them.

"No…" she sighed and ran some to catch up with the others.

Klaus began making the drinks as the others wandered into the living room. Diego slowly made his way to the fireplace, though he was eyeing it in confusion.

"Why is there a painting of Ben over the mantelpiece?” he asked.

Everyone stared up at the portrait in confusion.

"I knew you'd show up eventually," a hauntingly familiar male voice to their left sounded.

The Hargreeves whipped around to see a very alive Sir Reginald Hargreeves standing at the other fireplace.

"Dad," Diego recognized him softly.

Everyone stared at Dad in disbelief and caution.

"You're alive," Luther followed.

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"Yeah. Y-Yeah, you're right. I'm…I'm just happy that we're home and…together again," Luther corrected himself.

"'Home'?" Sir Reginald repeated. "This isn't your home."

Allison was taken back. "What are you talking about? This is the Umbrella Academy."

"Wrong again," Sir Reginald remarked. "This…is the Sparrow Academy."

From behind them, footsteps approached and they turned around. The silhouettes of five people, along with a floating red cube appeared on the landing above.

Down below, Ben Hargreeves himself made his way in, to their shock. He stared at the newcomers coldly and angrily.

"Dad, who the hell are these assholes?" he demanded.

"Shit," the Umbrella Academy collectively cursed.

~ * ~

We must use time as a tool,

not as a crutch.

~ John Fitzgerald Kennedy

~ * ~

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #tua #viktor hargreeves #aidan gallagher #tua season two #tua s2 #tua five #tua fanfic #tua fandom #number five #lila pitts

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eunoiathewriter · 2 years

Note

Elliot x reader where Jules and Rue interrogate Elliot and question his intentions with reader, who is also in the same room but not being allowed a say in the situation.

ELLIOT X F!READER

Sypnosis: Rue and Jules are a bit overprotective of y/n so when she starts dating Elliot, that isn't going to slide just because he's their friend

Word count: 1.5k

Here's the thing, Rue and Jules tursted her one hundred percent, she was the most mature of them all and had been their friend for a long time. Being friends with Rue as long as she knew Lexi. She didn't have a problem with all the drinking or doing drugs, actually enjoying herself a drink, blunt or line at certain occasions. And the two loved her with all their might, but there was one thing bugging the shit out of them

"Why him?" The brunette girl said as she leaned against the wall behind her, eyes narrowing as she and Jules watched y/n by her locker further up the corridor.

"I have no fucking idea," Jules uttered, squinting as the two watched Elliot walk up to y/n and the girl happily saying hi, earning a playful bow from the boy. They'd known him for a year, now he and y/n were dating.

"She could get any guy and choose him? Our musician friend who dose drugs on a daily basis and acts like a whole idiot," Were these words something Rue would've said about Elliot if he wasn't dating y/n? No, not really, but the whole idiot part was true though.

"I don't understand either Rue," Jules sighed, turning to the fluffy hair girl, she was probably a bit high too.

Jules and Rue watched as y/n and Elliot talked, both of them joking and teasing one another, nothing new. Elliot then said something to the girl and brushed his knuckles against her cheekbone, making her turn away from him. They were cute and all, yes, but what was Elliot's intentions with her? Maybe it was time.

"How about some digging, agent Bennett?" Jules asked in a joking tone, Rue's eyes squinted at the couple still flirting further away from them. Letting out a hum.

"Sounds like a plan, agent Vaughn." Rue gave a sly smirk to her girlfriend.

Both of them swiftly pushed off the wall, their long legs giving both of them the ability to walk over quickly. Just on thir way however, Nate Jacob's stared at them but Rue quickly raised her hand and flipped him off. Then turning to Jules who laughed.

"I'm just saying! Why the fuck would they make vanilla oreos? That ain't fucking oreo!" y/n exclaimed to Elliot as he just looked at her rummaging through her locker. His hand holding onto one of hers and giving it a small squeeze.

"Why are we even talking about oreos again?" Elliot questioned with a raised brow.

"Cassie fucking said she likes vanilla oreos and I was like 'vanilla WHAT?!'." Her facial expressions made Elliot crack up and he had to hold in a laugh from he rant.

His eyes stayed on her with a smile as she ranted to him about vanilla oreos, y/n might be the smartest of them all but she did have times like these quite often, times where he would not let one topic go because of how she irritated herself over it. But it was something he loved, one of the many things he loved about her.

His favorites for the four months they'd been together was: those times he would play guitar in his room, y/n coming up from behind him and placing a kiss on the apple tattoo under his eye. The times when y/n would lie on he exact with Elliot on top of her, her hands plating with his bleached curls.

"Hey you two," Jules spoke, announcing her and Rue being there. Elliot spun around while y/n turned her head from the locker, hand still in Elliot's.

"Oh, hey," Elliot greeted, a bit surprised by their sudden appearance with hima nd y/n.

Rue and Jules stood awkwardly beside one another, their shoulders brushing. y/n turned her body fully, cocking her head at the two girls as she squinted. Almost as I'd she was looking into their souls. Rue gave the tight-lipped smile she gave whenever there was something.

"Okey what's going on?" y/n poked at Rue, Elliot catching onto that they were acting strange.

Jules and Rue gave one another a look before in swift movements, Rue grabbed Elliot's hood and started ro pull him down the corridor, making him loose his grip on y/n's hand. Jules throwing a arm over y/n's shoulders and pulling her behind Elliot and Rue.

This very much reminded Elliot of the time that Jules felt the need to interrogate him over how he and Rue met, only that it was Jules pulling Elliot and Rue pulling y/n along just to see the show go down. Rue knowing her girlfriend was jealous of this new boy.

They reached a empty classroom and Jules locked it behind them, Rue pushing Elliot to sit down on a chair. He watched as Rue leaned against a desk, glaring him down, Jules sitting y/n down on one bench close by and standing beside her. His eyes found y/n's with a questioning look and y/n simply shrugged.

"Now, Elliot," Rue began. "Are you gonna answer our questions?"

"Depends on what manic thing you guys have come up with this time, I thought we were done with the interrogation shit." Elliot's eyes darted between all three girls, clearly it was only Rue and Jules that were know about this.

"Come on you two, just let Elly be and-" Jules quickly put a hand over y/n's mouth, catching her off guard. The blond patted y/n's arm lightly.

"Nah ah ah," Rue batted a finger at y/n. "Now back to you, what are your intentions with y/n?"

"My what?" Elliot was a bit taken aback by the fact that they asked this four months into their relationship.

"Oh Rue just-" Once more Jules put her hand over y/n's mouth, shutting her up.

"Come on," Jules gestured for Elliot to continue bit he just looked between the two girls.

"You just using her for a fuck?" Rue asked, Elliot shaking his head vigorously.

"The hell? Now I'm not."

"When did you know you were in love with her then?" Jules asked, her hand still over y/n's mouth, sitting next to the h/c girl on the bench. Elliot sighed, looking up at the roof.

"Why do you even need to know?"

"Because we do," Rue quickly answered him, probably snapped out from her high.

"There was this one time, we were hanging out without the two of you, in my car and we had like, I don't know, driven off somewhere. We were smoking some weed and she just blew some smoke in my face, it just.. I dint know that was just kinda the start I guess."

"Now, are you gonna turn her into a whole addict?" Rue asked with a sten voice, she was not going to have her friend that actually did good and have a future, to throw it away for some boy.

"Fuck no," Elliot looked at Rue. "Look she only dise ut like every once in a while, and I ain't gonna turn her into a addict."

"You guys ever kissed before getting together and all that?" Jules then asked with a grin, this causing Elliot to fall quiet. His and y/n's eyes meeting in a look of knowing. Jules hand still over y/n's mouth gently.

"So you did?" Rue asked, almost completely out of her foggy mind.

"Come on, when?" Jules pressed on and Elliot waited for a sign that y/n didn't want him to tell. But she simply shrugged her shoulders and sighed behind Jules hand.

"Kinda," Elliot answered snd Jules narrowed her eyes.

"Kinda or you did kiss her?"

"I mean kind,"

"No, we're not doing the same shit you pulled when I asked if you were straight of fucking gay!" Jules immediately told Elliot off, y/n letting out a snort behind Jules hand.

"Did you kiss before getting together? Yes or no and when was it." Rue leaned down to be at eye level with Elliot but she wasn't the least scary for him so he just sat back and watched her. Sighing.

"Fine, yeah we did. On new years, midnight." Elliot looked up at Rue with and annoyed face, but Rue let her face fall into shock.

"You didn't tell us this?!" Jules exclaimed at y/n who simply shrugged.

"We got together like four days later," Elliot piped in.

Then it all switched, instead of Jules and Rue interrogating Elliot they both began to argue back and forth about not noticing the two kiss at new years since all of them had been together that night.

This however, made Jules let y/n go and Rue was turned away from Elliot, y/n sneaked her way over to Elliot who still sat on the chair Rue had pulled out.

"Should we rethink out choice in friends?" y/n leaned down and put her chin on Elliot's shoulder, looking up at him with big eyes.

"Maybe but they need us," Elliot joked back, both of them smiling as the blond and brunette continued their bickering.

Their eyes stayed glued on one another, even after four months Elliot still felt his heart beat faster at her soft eyes. y/n always having a feeling of happiness with him, her cheeks heating up around him.

y/n leaned up and kissed the tattoo under his eyes softly, leaning her head against his, closing her eyes.

"Love you," She whispered.

"Love you too,"

"How the fuck didn't you nor I notice they kissed on fucking new years, Jules?!"

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jemid · 2 years

Text

2 of us | poly! crypto x mirage x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mirage and crypto are in the apex arena with you and are trying to impress you and have your attention, they get distracted with impressing you and loses the games.

Authors note: I've been thing about this when I was playing Apex with my friends, couldn't resist writing it lol. 바보 means dumbass, 맙소사 means good grief

Word count: 605

"You guys ready? I'm the jumpmaster!"

"Of course we are, Witt."

"I wasn't asking YOUUUUUU, I was asking our lovely partner here... PARK."

You can't believe you actually agreed to go into the games with them but it also makes since you did because you guys are in a relationship after all. But questions pop up in your head on to why they agreed for a poly relationship when they clearly hate each other?? Doesn't matter, atleast you have 2 idiots by your side in this polyamourous relationship of yours. Ever since you got into a poly relationship with them they've been fighting over you. NON STOP. Oh you're playing with cryptos drone? Nah you're hanging out with mirage now. It's like a fight to the death to see who can get your attention.

Your partners landed at skyhook and was looking around in supply bins. Suddenly Elliot spots a level 3 armor and pings it for you. "Shield right here, level 4 for a special someone~." Obviously wanting you to get it but also crypto found something too, "A vault key for someone special." He says as he pings the vault key. You slowly think they're fighting for you but at the same time they're just being sweet.. to you that is. Without thinking you take both and ping survey camp for more bins. Crypto and mirage exchange death stares and follow behind you.

You got too far ahead and suddenly you announce that you're being shot at by a sniper up top and was knocked down. This is the perfect opportunity for them to show that they can be the best boyfriends ever; crypto uses his drone and uses his ult and mirage uses his decoys and tries to trick or bamboozle the enemy.. they think they've got you but cryptos drone gets shot down and he gets found by another squad and is down and the sniper knew who was real so mirage is down, squad eliminated.

"Heh.. we make a great team.." Elliot rubs the back of his neck in awkwardness. "You're the idiot that thought you got the enemy, 바보." Crypto straightens his jacket and turns his face away from mirage. "No, it was my fault I'm sorry I ran further than you guys I should've thought soo-" You we're cut off by crypto kissing you RIGHT IN FRONT of mirage's baffled and defeated face. Mirage gets pouty and folds his arm trying not to get jealous as if he already wasn't. He gets impatient and decides to step in, "ALRIGHT LET THEM BREATHE!". To be honest, you couldn't breathe even though the kiss was long and hot. Mirage pulls you in and kisses you as well to get revenge on crypto, this leaves crypto to put his hands in his pocket and smirk. This was like a victory to crypto, "맙소사.." Unlike the last kiss, mirage actually lets you breathe and moves away from your lips.

"Sooo, how was that for both?" Mirage asked since this was kinda his first kiss but he won't admit it. Crypto kinda wanted to know as well because he looks like he has experience but he doesn't so having feedback would make him less embarrassed. "By the you guys kiss, I'll take it that it was your first kiss. Mirage had a sloppy kiss and crypto was hot but our teeth almost touched." Mirage and crypto look at you like :0 because they thought they did great for their first kiss. Crypto and mirage try to make it up to by making out with you on the couch on the ship.

To bad it's ruined now because octane died and he was solo.. "WHAT THE FUCK!?" He says while looking at you guys in the couch.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #fluff #apex legends #apex legends x reader #crypto x reader #mirage x reader #gender neutral s/o #polyamourous #poly x reader

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

In Times Past

Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne’s life doesn’t exist beyond the fake storylines he performs for the media and citizens of Gotham. Maybe the only person that can change that is someone who knew him before Batman ever even existed.

Word Count: 8,200+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual harrassment

A/N: As I teased before, this was inspired by this scene from Batman Begins.

Bruce could sense Alfred’s tension when he walked into the kitchen that morning. The man was not one to hold back his thoughts and feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. But Bruce sensed it was the latter today.

Before Bruce could even get a sip of coffee in, Alfred tossed the Sunday newspaper in front of him.

On the front page was a photo of Batman, far too high of a resolution for Bruce’s liking. ‘BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?’ the headline read.

“A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Alfred asked with a hint of sass.

However, Bruce controlled his reaction.

“Not the first time I’ve been photographed, Alfred.”

“You’re dancing with the devil, Master Wayne.”

“So, what? You want me to lay down the cape because everyone in America has the ability to take a photo on their cellphone?”

“Of course not,” Alfred retorted. Though Alfred secretly wished every day that Bruce would say goodbye to the Batman. “I just thought perhaps you should be putting a bit more effort into Bruce Wayne’s life if you really want to throw Gotham off your trail.”

Then he tossed another newspaper. This one of Bruce Wayne, the other mask he wore.

‘Bruce Wayne Lights Up the Room at Charity Ball.’

Alfred points to the date…it was 9 months ago. And it was unfortunately the last time Bruce Wayne was in the press.

“You better start creating alibis, Master Wayne, or the dark web will start to putting two and two together…”

Bruce sighed. He knew Alfred was right. But he hated all that went with what he had to do. He’d rather face off with Gotham’s deadliest criminals than go galavanting around the city as the self-absorbed and reckless playboy persona that he’d created.

“There is a birthday party for Eaton Elliot next weekend. Naturally, being old family friends, you received an invitation,” Alfred explained. “Plenty of press will be there to note your attendance. Seems rather convenient."

Bruce recognized the name. It was the older brother of Thomas Elliot, a childhood friend that he slightly lost touch with. He’d see him or his parents at various events, and things were always cordial.

But it didn’t really matter how absent or quiet Bruce was when it came to maintaining such relationships. Everyone forgave such behavior when it came to saving face with the only living member of the Wayne family. Bruce could spit in the faces of Gotham’s elite and they’d probably thank him for it.

“Black tie affair, as always,” Alfred added as he slipped the invitation to Bruce. “Perhaps you could bring a date…”

Bruce glared up at the butler. “Dates make it harder to make a quick and quiet exit, Alfred.”

“Well, maybe that’s the point, Master Wayne.”

————

Just like he was on patrol or working on an op, Bruce had prepared for every single scenario. He made a plan that would be the most effective in the shortest amount of time. He didn’t want to torture himself any longer than absolutely necessary.

When Alfred asked him again if he was planning on bringing a date, Bruce had only replied with a mischievous smirk.

Because he walked in with a girl on each arm.

It wasn’t the classy or gentlemanly thing to do. And that was exactly the point.

Conversations paused, attention was turned, and flashes went off.

Bruce Wayne made his entrance.

He carefully fell into the groove of being the spoiled brat everyone had painted him out to be. It had been awhile since he played the part, but Bruce always found it easy when he was surrounded by these kinds of people.

Bruce made sure to slightly slur his words. He would get too handsy with his dates. He would rudely interrupt people to share his own useless opinion on whatever topic was leading the conversation. He never looked waitstaff in the eye.

But now it was time for the finale.

Bruce whispered a certain suggestion into the ears of his dates.

They shared a look that proved they were both game.

The three of them stumbled into a bathroom – one out in the open that most of the guests would be steered toward.

The kissing began and clothes were quickly shifted.

There was a split moment when Bruce wondered what this would feel like for a man who actually wanted to be in this situation.

The two woman managed unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal echoing in the all-tile bathroom.

But just as they unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, Bruce’s cellphone rang loudly.

Right on cue.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Bruce whined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his words stumbled out. “But I just have to take this call.”

“Aww. Brucie. You’re no fun,” one of the women fussed.

But Bruce gave off enough dominate energy that they didn’t try to fight him on it.

Hair disheveled, mouth swollen and pink, lipstick stains on his skin and his pants and belt barely put back together, Bruce stumbled out of the bathroom first.

The two women didn’t bother to stay back and spread out their exits, making it very clear what had just happened – or what it looked like just happened.

It didn’t matter that Bruce didn’t actually have sex with them, every woman in Gotham wanted to say they’d shared a bed with Bruce Wayne. His two dates would lie to save face and get street cred. Bruce hated that he knew that, that it was guaranteed.

Dozens of people, who were socializing near the bathroom, stopped what they were doing and watched with judgmental looks. Some men looked jealous. Some women looked disgusted and eyed the two women up and down.

Then there was the flash of a camera.

Bingo.

Bruce wouldn’t have to linger much longer now.

He played up being somewhat embarrassed.

But just as he put his phone to his ear to take the fake call that Alfred dialed, he saw the last person he expected.

It caused him to do a double take and freeze.

His focus fell for a moment as they made eye contact.

Why did she have to be here?

Why did she have to be one of his witnesses?

Why did it hurt so much to see how she looked at him as if he were a stranger?

And why did she have to look so god damn beautiful?

Y/F/N Y/L/N.

The Y/L/N family were another one of Gotham’s elite – well, they used to be.

Y/N’s father was once worth billions. But being born into wealth didn’t guarantee intelligence or the skills to properly run the family business. When Bruce and Y/N were in high school, Y/N’s father filed for bankruptcy and confessed that the family was about to lose everything. With the announcement, the press also exposed Mr. Y/L/N’s many lustful affairs.

What came next was a messy and brutal divorce that the media ate up.

Out of spite, Y/N’s mother remarried her ex-husband’s biggest competitor, maintaining her status and wealth, and making sure she still came out on top. It was the greatest revenge and even Y/N had to give her mother credit for the ingenuity of it all.

Bruce remembered how terrible it all was for Y/N, who was used as a pawn in her parents war against each other.

Having had enough of it, Y/N fled Gotham and chose to live with her eccentric great aunt in London and finished her last year of high school there.

But Y/N didn’t run away from Bruce. They emailed, texted, video chatted, called.

They had always been good friends.

The elites of Gotham always suspected the two would get married. But both Bruce and Y/N pretended to ignore such whisperings.

But when Bruce shifted his life, when he changed his life’s purpose, when he started becoming a vigilante…he stopped taking Y/N’s calls and he stopped returning them.

He told himself it was better that way. He couldn’t handle any distractions. Batman didn’t have time for personal relationships, so neither did Bruce Wayne. But more importantly, Y/N deserved someone who would prioritize her – even just as a friend.

Now Bruce needed to get actually drunk.

Putting the phone back to his ear, he broke eye contact and made a beeline for one of the bars.

“Did you forget to tell me about the guest list, Alfred?” Bruce muttered evenly to the phone, knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear his anger and irritation.

“How was I to know who RSVPed yes or no…” Alfred bit back. But he knew exactly who Bruce was looking at.

Bruce frowned as he ended the call abruptly and asked for a whiskey.

“I don’t know, man. She’s not my type,” a man said to his friend.

The two of them were just a foot or two away from Bruce.

“What do you mean ‘not your type’? She’s fucking hot.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But she’s so stiff and uptight. Look, she’s had a resting bitch face all night.”

Bruce’s grip on his face tightened as he easily put together who they were talking about. It was moments like these that Bruce hated being lumped together with men like this.

“You’re an idiot,” the friend said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Alright. If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”

Bruce saw his window.

With a sloppy haste, Bruce turned right into the two men and just happened to spill his drink over the man who was about to make a move on Y/N.

Bruce laughed and spilled another drink on the bar as he tried to grab some nearby cocktail napkins. “Gentleman, gentleman…I so dearly apologize.”

Both of them were clearly annoyed, but then realized who he was.

Bruce gripped them by the shoulders and made sure his eyes were struggling to stay open. “I could be wrong…but it’s possible…that I have been over served.”

He broke out into a chuckle and both men forced their own laughter.

Bruce subtle glanced over to where Y/N had been standing. She’d disappeared.

He’d spared her…for now.

“I think it’s time I go home,” Bruce told them too loudly. “Do me a favor? Wish her congratulations for me?”

The two men looked at one another. “Congratulations? To who?”

Bruce frowned in confusion and looked around. “Isn’t this an engagement party?”

They tried to hide their laughter. “Wayne, this is a birthday party. For Eaton Elliot.”

Bruce’s brows shot up. “A birthday party? Look at that!”

Then he turned around, zigzagged his walk, and threw a wave over his shoulder.

But Bruce wasn’t that lucky.

Because when he made his way to the valet, he found Y/N waiting patiently with her back to him.

Her fancy dress and gloves seemed to do nothing to help protect her from the cold night.

Bruce could’ve left. He could’ve left her alone, gone back into the party, and made more of a fool of himself.

But next thing he knew, he was walking forward.

“Waiting for your car?”

Y/N didn’t turn to him, but it was clear that she heard his question and recognized who it had come from. “I didn’t drive. They’re getting me a cab.”

Bruce nodded slowly even though she wasn’t looking at him.

All charm had left his body now that he had quit the act. It wasn’t going to do any favors for him. He needed to do this on his own, as his real self.

Y/N finally turned with a slight attitude and Bruce was taken aback at how she was even more beautiful up close.

“What are you doing here, Bruce?”

He smirked. “I’m here for the party, of course.” He didn’t want to play the part anymore – not with her. But it was second nature at this point.

Her lips pursed at his response.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked.

Y/N sighed. “Between you and me, I’m only here as a favor to my mother. She wouldn’t get off my back about coming. I tried to leave sooner, but…”

One of the valets hopped up the steps. “I’m sorry, Dr. Y/L/N. It can take awhile to get cabs in the area at this time of night.”

Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and opened her mouth to say she’d walk home.

“I’ll drive her home,” Bruce spoke before she could. Then he handed the valet his ticket.

Y/N looked at him with confusion and a bit of annoyance. “You really don’t have to do that.”

Bruce just gave her a look that said he absolutely did.

Then Y/N gestured back to the party. “You’re just gonna abandon your dates?”

The way she asked made it clear that Y/N had seen Bruce stumble out of the bathroom with the two of them. He also didn’t miss how she emphasized the plural.

“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her.

He took a step toward her. “Let me give you a ride, Y/N.”

She took in a deep breath.

She knew she needed the ride. Only an idiot would walk home at this time of night, even if the walk to her apartment was a relatively safe one for Gotham standards.

Y/N just nodded.

A minute later, an Aston Martin drove up.

Bruce offered his arm to Y/N and helped her down the stairs before opening the passenger door for her.

He handed the valet a few bills, not even noticing they were all hundreds.

“Where to?” Bruce asked her.

“Oh, umm…” Y/N quickly gave him her address.

“I know you’ve been gone awhile, but you definitely shouldn’t be walking around the streets of Gotham at night.”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m aware. I moved back awhile ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know…”

“Yeah. Well, why would you? It’s not like you kept in touch.”

The car filled with silence.

Y/N stared out the passenger window, looking at the skyscraper lights of Gotham

It seemed Y/N had no issue with staying silent for the whole car ride.There was nothing awkward about it for her.

But Bruce knew there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”

This was the last thing Y/N expected and her head whipped to him.

But Bruce kept his eyes on the road. “For disappearing like I did.”

Y/N slowly turned back to the passenger window and said nothing.

Bruce didn’t expect to win her forgiveness. He would have to deal with that. But at least he could apologize.

“Y/N.” Bruce said it ever so quietly, like he was forbidden from speaking it. “This isn’t…I’m not…” Dammit. What was he even trying to accomplish right now? “Back there–”

“Back there?” Y/N interrupted his fumbling. “Oh, you mean the threesome you had in a bathroom at a party?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Everyone bought his performance. Unfortunately, even Y/N.

Bruce pulled over and Y/N realized they were at her building already.

“You can say whatever makes you feel good, Bruce. Have at it.” Then she threw open the car door.

She put her hand on the handle to help herself out.

But she hesitated.

No. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Y/N spun around to face Bruce, his blue eyes already waiting for her.

“You used to be kind. Strong and brave. You were better than all of them.”

And for the first time, Bruce really saw the damage he had done.

“Is that boy really gone?” She searched his eyes for the answer. “What is the act and what is the truth?” She whispered. “Huh, Bruce?”

He wanted to tell her.

Bruce had never felt the urge to expose his secret ever before.

But right now? Right now, he wanted to take Y/N back to the manor, drag her down to the cave, and show her all of his secrets – every single one.

But he couldn’t. And he knew that.

Bruce kept his face reserved.

His brow furrowed for just a second as he took Y/N in. All of her. Her eyelashes. Her lips. The styling of her hair. The dip of her neck.

“You became quite the woman, Y/N.” He told her. “And a beautiful one at that.”

Y/N blinked at the statement. Her mind desperately tried to decipher the hidden message in his words, in his actions from the night. But she came up with nothing.

She wanted to say that she knew he was using flattery to divert her attention from what she wanted to know. But it was also clear that he genuinely meant what he said as well. His eyes seeming to be taking in every moment of being in her presence.

If Y/N weren’t so irritated, she probably would’ve been more taken aback by his compliment, feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed.

There wasn’t any point in pushing.

So Y/N took in a breath. “Thank you for the ride, Bruce.”

He just nodded. Then he watched her walk to the door of her apartment building. He probably lingered a few moments too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to once again put distance between them.

————

Alfred brought down food and an espresso to the cave.

When he looked up, Y/F/N Y/L/N’s face was on the giant screen.

“Working on a case, Master Wayne?” He asked with his usual sarcasm.

Bruce ignored the question. “She attended undergrad in Metropolis and then went to grad school in New York City.”

“Yes, I can see that…considering you have her student records exploited all over the screen,” Alfred responded with a smirk. “She’s been living in Gotham again for a few years, working as a psychiatrist. Even volunteers her services at Arkham – pro bono.”

That caught Bruce’s attention. He turned away from the screen to look at Alfred.

“I found no record of that,” he argued.

“Yes. Well, her mother is rather embarrassed by it. Thinks it gives the family a bad image. She insisted Y/N’s philanthropy was kept secret, even approved the NDAs herself.”

Bruce gave him a look, utterly confused how Alfred had access to such information.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Never underestimate the power of gossip, Master Wayne. Most family secrets cannot be found on the dark corners of the internet.” Then he smirked. “You would gain quite the knowledge if you didn’t turn your nose up at it.”

Bruce smiled at that and turned back to the computer.

“So, I take it that it was good seeing her?” Alfred pressed.

Bruce tensed at the question. “Not entirely. I’m certain that she hates me.”

“Hates you or hates the character you’ve so carefully created?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just Bruce Wayne to her.”

Alfred opened his mouth to say more.

“Leave it, Alfred.” Bruce cut off before he could.

“Well, it appears I’m not the one struggling with leaving it alone, Master Wayne.”

Like many of Gotham’s elites, Alfred had humored the idea that Bruce and Y/N would make a marvelous couple. Like Bruce, Y/N didn’t let money and power sway her morals or damage her good and kind heart.

Alfred had always enjoyed having her over and listening to her and Bruce’s laughter as they caused trouble around the manor and entertained themselves.

But he also saw how her departure effected Bruce, no matter how much the teenager had tried to hide it at the time.

Maybe Alfred was an optimist or a romantic, but he still believed there was a chance for the two of them. But Bruce, quite frankly, would have to get over himself and his stubbornness.

————

Bruce was looking down at the city from yet another rooftop. It had been a quiet night. And he hated nights like that. It was always ended up being the calm before a storm.

“Batman?” Alfred spoke into his comms.

“Yes.”

“It appears there’s been a breakout at Arkham. The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet. But law enforcement has already been dispatched.”

“I’m on my way,” Bruce announced as he slid down a fire escape and made his way to the batmobile that he’d hidden in the shadows of an alley.

“Master Wayne…” Alfred knew to only use codenames on comms.

Bruce tense. “What is it?”

There was hesitation from the butler. “Y/N was scheduled to work a shift there tonight…”

Bruce said nothing. But his foot pressed the gas pedal down further than necessary.

—

Y/N was sitting with a patient when the alarm went off.

The people that worked there called them inmates, and corrected her every time she chose not to use that title.

Harleen Quinzel had been sitting across from Y/N for almost 30 minutes when they were interrupted.

“Oh, fun!” Harley clapped and giggled as the sirens filled their ears.

Harley and Y/N had formed an interesting relationship. The criminal seemed to like her and looked forward to her visits. She never threatened Y/N or tried to manipulate her.

Y/N believes she won her over by addressing her as Dr. Quinzel and often asking her professional opinions on trends and news in their industry.

Most people there only referred to Harley as if she was property of the Joker, no matter how many times Harley clarified that she wasn’t his anything anymore.

“Does this happen a lot?” Y/N asked her, trying to remain calm.

“Not enough, if ya ask me!” She laughed.

Y/N made the mistake of opening the door and seeing that the majority of the cells had been opened and prisoners were slowly making their way into the hallway.

“Not good,” Y/N muttered.

“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll protect ya! Us gals gotta stick together.” Harley said from behind her shoulder.

Y/N whipped around and looked at her and then at the table she’d been sitting at. “Dr. Quinzel! How did you get out of your restraints?”

“Oh, I’ve always been able to. I just leave ‘em on to be polite.”

Y/N sighed. No one had explained any sort of protocol for such a situation.

“Where the fuck are all the guards?” Y/N asked.

Suddenly the lights shut off.

“Yippy!” Harley cheered.

Y/N turned to her and softly grabbed her shoulder, but gave her an insistent look. “Harley, we need to get somewhere safe.”

Her face did dip to serious for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me. But you’re right. Not everyone in here appreciates a shrink…”

To her surprise, Harley starts pulling her through the darkness with a purpose.

Y/N had no idea where she was planning on taking her. It seemed all the doors were in lock-down mode, leaving her stranded. If she survived tonight, she’d definitely be bringing that up to the board.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Y/N yelped at the sound.

Someone had either gotten a hold of a gun or security guards were opening fire.

Either way, it caused chaos to erupt.

Suddenly the dark hallways were being filled with a stampede of prisoners. Either they wanted to take down the guard who was shooting or they were getting an adrenaline rush at the concept of their peers attacking their wardens.

The crowd ripped the two women apart. Y/N was shoved up against the wall and her head slammed against the cement.

Y/N swore under her breath from the pain.

“Is that…No, it can’t be…”

A voice called out over the madness.

A chill went up Y/N’s spine. She’d know that voice anywhere.

The Joker.

He wasn’t one of her patients. All researchers and doctors were forbidden to speak with him – especially after what happened with Harley.

But that didn’t stop the Joker from knowing who Y/N was. He whined and whined about feeling left out. “All my pals get to chat with her and all I get to do is look!”

Now, Joker was free from him isolation.

Y/N suspected he was behind the breakout.

And he was going to make a slight detour. A detour that was doing whatever the hell he wanted to with Dr. Y/L/N.

Y/N didn’t even bother hiding her fear. With a new found strength and endurance, she started shoving her way through the mob.

“I hear you and my pumpkin’ pie have gotten close.” Then his smile dropped. “Too close, if ya ask me.”

Y/N ignored him as another prisoner shoved into her shoulder.

“I don’t appreciate you putting ideas in her head!”

Y/N stopped, realizing she had miscalculated her escape and had come to a dead end.

So she slowly turned around to face him, putting her back to the wall. “And what ideas are those?”

“Independence. Self respect. A life beyond crime and incarceration,” he spat.

Y/N realized he had his goonies flanking him, only making her odds that much worse.

“Those aren’t ideas. They’re a reality, a possible future,” she defended.

Joker didn’t like that answer one bit. He threw himself against her, once again slamming Y/N into the wall.

He gripped her chin roughly and smiled with his yellow teeth. “You know…she’s not the only doctor I’d like to break in. And in more ways than one, if you catch my drift,” he giggled.

Then his eyes raked over her body, up and down. His hands slid down her hips and the side of her legs until they got to the hem of her pencil skirt.

Y/N shoved him away with all of her strength.

But that earned her a slap across the face from him.

Joker gripped her waist tightly pressing her between the wall and his body. “I’m in charge now, doc. And I’ve got a few lessons to teach you.”

His hands grabbed at the buttons of her blouse and with one jerk, he ripped open her her blouse.

But before he could go any further, a few of his lackeys cried out in pain.

Y/N swore she heard the sound of objects whipping through the darkness.

She didn’t want to let herself feel any relief. But she hoped Harley had made her way back to her. She’d probably pack an even heavier punch once she realized Y/N needed protecting from her asshole ex.

But when Joker turned around and Y/N followed his gaze, Harley was nowhere to be found.

Yet three men were on the ground, unconscious.

“Well, well, well,” Joker muttered in amusement. “Has Batsy come out to play?”

Next thing Y/N saw was a shadow dropping down out of nowhere and taking out even more of Joker’s men.

Joker seemed to be prepared for such an interruption. Because he grabbed a knife from somewhere hidden on his body and ripped Y/N off the wall. He pressed Y/N’s back to his chest and put the tip of his knife to her throat.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Joker sang.

To Y/N’s shock, Batman stepped into what little light was in the hallway.

“Long time, no see!” Joker screamed so loudly that Y/N flinched. “Did you miss me, Batsy? And you came all this way to see little old me?! How very sweet!”

“Your attempted escape was a failure,” Batman stated. “There’s nowhere for you to go. All the exits are blocked. Arkham has been contained.”

“What a shame! I really felt this one was gonna work!” Joker laughed.

Batman took a step toward him. “It’s over, Joker.”

“You’re probably right,” Joker shrugged. “But I really wanted to have some fun with doc here. So, if you could give us some privacy.”

Batman’s eyes flickered to Y/N’s for a brief moment. “Let her go,” he warned.

“How about…no?” Joker laughed.

Just as Batman was about to make his move, Y/N grabbed the wrist of Joker’s arm that held the knife. She twisted it and dived in such a succinct motion that it was obvious Y/N had been trained.

Whipping herself out of Joker’s grip, she twisted Joker’s arm so roughly and quickly behind his back that he had no choice but to drop his knife from the pain.

Then Y/N was now facing him, and with one swift swing of her leg, she kicked him right in the groan.

Batman saw his opening and rushed forward, cuffing Joker in place.

While Batman neutralized him, Y/N stumbled for the knife that Joker had dropped, still not feeling safe and out of danger.

She looked around, realizing that the police had filtered in and apprehended all the escaped prisoners. Some were already locked back into their cells. Other’s were in handcuffs with guns being pointed at them in warning.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” his voice made her whip back around.

How the hell did Batman know her name?

She squinted wearily at him.

“You can drop the knife,” Batman told her quietly.

Y/N blinked and looked down at her hand, having forgotten that she even grabbed the knife. And she now had a vice-like grip on it.

Her hands were shaking when she dropped the knife and the clatter echoed in the hallway.

She eyed the Joker, not trusting any sort of weapon to be in his vicinity, despite being handcuffed now.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman noted, as if he could read her mind and hear the concerns she was thinking.

Police officers surrounded them now.

“Until next time, doc!” Joker sang loudly.

Batman stepped between him and Y/N, shielding her from even being seen by the lunatic.

Y/N eyed him, wondering if he did that on purpose.

“This way,” he directed lowly as he led her out of the hallway.

Y/N was surprised when he escorted her all the way out of the building.

Wasn’t this supposed to be Gotham’s Dark Knight? A disappearing act? An urban legend that some people still didn’t believe in?

When they got outside, there were even more officers. The night was flickering blue and red from all the patrol car’s lights still being on.

Commissioner Gordon was having a field day with Arkham’s warden, yelling at him about lack of protocol and no protection for the volunteers and workers that had gotten caught in the crossfire.

But finally, the reality of what just happened was starting to set in for Y/N. And she realized that her entire body was shaking.

All of a sudden, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked up to see that Batman had draped it over her. When and where he’d grabbed it, she had no clue. But the warmth was helping, so she didn’t question it.

“Thank you…for saving me back there.”

Was that a smirk on his lips? Was Batman amused by her?

Why was it so comforting when he was a mere stranger?

And his eyes, even when they were surrounded by a cowl and dark paint, they still felt familiar. Y/N had a similar feeling to deja vu.

“Looked like you had it handled,” he replied.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t. But thank god for those self-defense classes.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a second.

“Make sure you get checked out by the paramedics,” he told her gently, but insistent.

It was far too gentle for his Batman alter ego. But she caught how it sounded like it personally mattered to him.

Y/N looked behind her, where the ambulance was.

But when she turned back around, Batman was gone.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being surrounded by two paramedics and Commissioner Gordon who was careful not to push her by asking too many questions at once.

“Does he always do that?” She asked him in a daze.

“Do what?” Gordon asked.

“Disappear like that?”

Gordon smiled and nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

———

“What’s the gossip of the privileged this week?” Bruce asked Alfred at breakfast a few days after the outbreak.

“Something specific you’re looking for, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked as he poured Bruce a big mug of coffee.

Bruce glared at him, knowing he was playing coy with him.

But he put his pride aside. “How is she doing?”

Alfred took pity on him. “She took some time off work. But seems to be handling it better than expected. Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Her being psychiatrist and all.”

Bruce just nodded with a dazed look.

“You could always see for yourself…” Alfred added.

Bruce snapped out of his daze and looked up him questioningly.

“You could go see her,” Alfred confirmed.

“Alfred, don’t you start.”

“Start what, Master Wayne? Pushing you to form any sort of relationship?”

Bruce sighed and got up from the breakfast nook. He didn’t want to fight with him, so he’d made his exit before that happened.

“Batman has plenty of friends,” Alfred stopped him. “But what about Bruce Wayne, hmm? Who are his friends?”

“You saying we’re not friends, Alfred?”

“I’m all you’ve got, Master Wayne. And that’s my point.”

Before the discussion could go on any further, the doorbell rang.

The two men shared a look.

No one stopped by the manor.

Alfred made his way over.

Bruce figured he’d wait where he was. But the front entrance was too far away from him to overhear any conversation.

A few minutes later, Alfred walked in with an unreadable expression.

“Dr. Y/L/N is here, Master Wayne. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to make an excuse and get her to leave. But Alfred was already disappearing, making it clear that he would do no such thing for him.

When Bruce walked into the drawing room, he found Y/N’s back to him as she looked at the family heirlooms and trinkets that were displayed on the shelved.

She was dressed casually, which caught Bruce off guard since he’d only see her in formal wear and professional outfits since their reunion. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, if any at all.

“Hi,” he greeted softly, making her quickly turn around.

“Hi,” she replied.

Bruce stepped further into the room. But neither of them moved to sit in any of the many seats that surrounded them.

“I heard what happened. How are you doing?” He asked.

She nodded and shrugged. “Alright.”

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Bruce admitted.

Y/N ignored his comment and her eyes went around the room. “I missed this place,” she thought aloud. Then her eyes fell back to his, softening. “I missed you.”

Bruce was taken aback from her confession. Seeing as the last time they were together, she was rather blunt about how disgusted and disappointed in him she was.

The energy between them felt so different than last time.

To his surprise, Y/N stepped toward him. And she didn’t stop until she was at a proximity that most would call rather intimate.

There was a voice in the back of Bruce’s mind, urging him to close the last bit of distance and place his lips on hers. But he managed to ignore it. That didn’t stop his heart from beating faster, though.

Y/N stared into his eyes for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for something.

“I have something that belongs to you…”

Bruce waited, not sure what she could possibly have to give him.

But then she pulled out one of his batarangs from her coat pocket, offering it to him.

She had found it embedded in the wall when she had gone back down to grab her personal belongings that night.

Bruce kept his face composed. “I’m not sure I understand.”

But he grabbed it from her anyways.

“He’s you,” she whispered. “Or I guess…you’re him.”

Bruce let out a breath, “Y/N…”

She took step away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Bruce.”

So he shut his mouth and said nothing instead.

“I’ve been doing some research. Things started lining up,” Y/N explained. “The first Batman sightings were right around when we stopped talking. The more Batman was in the press, the less Bruce Wayne was. And when he was, it was never positive – like it was meant to be a distraction.”

Her eyes went sad. “I never understood how the boy I used to love could grow into the man I’m so disappointed in. It never made sense.” She paused. “But when you wonder if the man himself is the mask, it all fits.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce hung his head slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”

“I’d never share your secret.”

“I know,” he answered instantly.

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. Her eyes welled with tears. “Bruce…living like this has its consequences.”

Bruce said nothing.

She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You can’t change the world on your own. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Y/N wasn’t giving him advice. She was offering him something.

Her trust.

Her secrecy.

Her love.

He shook his head, but gripped her hand tightly. “You would just end up in the shadows with me. And I…I can’t do that to you.”

“I’m stronger than you think,” Y/N defended.

“I’ve always known how strong you are, Y/N.” His jaw tightened at even the thought of being selfish. “You deserve more than what I can give. Gotham will always come first. That’s the sacrifice I made. That’s what is required. I can’t be what you need.”

Y/N studied his face, knowing that there would be no winning with him.

She nodded once, not even slightly hiding her heartbreak and disappointment.

Then she stepped closer and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek.

“It’s not a one time offer, Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t move a muscle. He was rooted in place.

He heard Y/N have a short conversation with Alfred, then the door closed, and she was gone again.

———

Bruce Wayne was a fool.

Alfred could probably make a list, in seconds, with a hundred reasons why.

But, no, Bruce Wayne was a fool for believing Y/N would give up so easily.

Two weeks later, Y/N was at Wayne Manor again.

Bruce knew something was going on when Alfred didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

In one of her arms was popcorn seeds, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chocolate covered pretzels. In the other arm was a case of beer.

Y/N barely said hi to Bruce as Alfred helped her out of her coat and took the things out of her grasp so she was no longer struggling to hold it all.

“I’m here to use your theater,” she announced.

And with that, she walked right past Bruce like she owned the place.

Bruce looked at Alfred and silently asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’

“I believe you have a guest to entertain, Master Wayne.” Then he looked at the items in his hand. “And I believe I have some popcorn to make.”

Bruce still didn’t move.

“You successfully closed yet another case last night, it’s Friday night, and you have a beautiful woman who decided she wants to spend her time with you. Best you don’t keep her waiting, Master Wayne.”

Bruce narrowed his gaze as if telling Alfred they’d discuss this matter at another time.

“I presume you shouldn’t go empty handed,” Alfred added quickly and handed Bruce two beers from the case in his arms.

Bruce chuckled, but started walking away. “I’m surprised you even let this stuff in the house, Alfred.”

When Bruce reached the theater, Y/N had already started a movie.

He watched her a for a moment before she could realize he'd joined her.

Y/N looked like she belonged there. Even after all this time apart, she just burrowed herself a cozy nook in Bruce’s life.

It was something she had been able to do even when they were kids. When Bruce had his mood swings or his depressive episodes, Y/N didn’t scare. She just found her way to stay at his side without upsetting him further.

Bruce grabbed the seat to the left of hers.

They weren’t really seats, more like small beds. A dozen were placed in the theater.

A couple could easily share one, but Bruce wasn’t planning on even approaching that fine line.

When Bruce sat down, he didn’t look at Y/N. But she gave a shy smile at his joining.

It was a long movie – almost a 3 hour run time.

And Y/N almost made it.

Without only 30 minutes left, Y/N had fallen asleep. Meaning Bruce’s attention was now taken from the movie.

He got up and grabbed one of the many blankets in the trunk hidden in the corner and placed it carefully over her, before silently leaving.

This was not a one time thing.

These type of visits continued.

Bruce knew Y/N and Alfred had to be in cahoots together.

Y/N seemed to always come to the manor when Bruce needed her most.

Alfred would force Bruce out of the cave and moments later, the doorbell would be ringing.

On the bad nights, she wouldn’t make him talk. She wouldn’t ask questions or try to make him magically feel better. Sometimes she would talk – mostly about mundane things. She’d tell Bruce about her day or how her neighbor always left baked goods at her door or about the new show she started watching. Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything at all, just sit there silently and make sure he wasn’t alone.

Sometimes she would bring coffee and pastries.

Sometimes Bruce would just walk into the library and find her reading.

Sometimes she would sit and chat with Alfred as if he was the reason she was visiting, and not Bruce.

Bruce couldn’t sleep one night. Nothing specific was causing his insomnia. Just the overall weight of being so many people.

It was 3AM when Y/N texted him to open the door for her because she didn’t want to wake Alfred.

When Bruce did so, Y/N was standing on the other door in sandals and a slightly transparent coverup that barely showed the outline of the bathing suit underneath.

He said nothing, but his face clearly showed that he wanted to know why the hell she was there in the middle of the night.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Y/N told him quietly. Then she shrugged a bit,“I decided I wanted to go for a swim."

Whether she was lying for his benefit, Bruce wasn’t sure. But he followed her to the indoor swimming pool like a sailor would follow a siren.

Without hesitation, Y/N kicked her sandals off and tossed her coverup on the nearest chair. And the next second, she was diving into the pool.

Bruce smirked at her nonchalance, but made sure to hide it when she breached the surface once again.

“Doesn’t your apartment building have its won pool?” He asked.

Y/N smiled and tilted her head back to get her hair wet again and out of her face. “They put too much chlorine in it.”

Bruce crossed his arms, “I see.”

“Coming in?” She asked teasingly.

He shook his head.

“At least keep me company,” she requested.

Bruce glared playfully at her, knowing the game she was playing.

But he finally sighed and nodded.

He was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. But he decided to sit on the edge of the pool and dip his feet in.

He watched as she swam around, looking as natural in the water as a mermaid. She had always loved swimming as a kid and it appeared not much had changed.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He finally decided to break the silence.

Y/N swam to him and crossed her arms on the edge of the pool to rest and tilted her head to look at him.

She shrugged, “The usual: stress, nightmares, insomnia, too much caffeine.”

Bruce’s concern spiked instantly. “Nightmares about what?”

She watched him for a moment, seeing how quickly her subtle comment triggered him.

“You’re not the only person who’s seen fucked up things, Bruce.”

An hour later, Y/N asked for a towel.

When she climbed out, she was taken aback by Bruce wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her down gently. It was innocent, but subtly intimate.

As their eyes locked for a prolonged time, and he seemed to realize what he’d done accidentally.

Y/N cleared her throat. “I should head home and let you try to get some sleep.”

“You could stay,” he offered. “I mean, we have plenty of bedrooms here,” he quickly added and saved himself a bit.

“Is that…what you want?” Y/N asked slowly.

Bruce knew what she was trying to ask. He didn’t trust himself to answer the way he should, so he didn’t answer.

“Let me drive you home,” he asked as they left the indoor pool and started toward the front entrance.

Y/N ignored the request until they were at the door. She turned to face him with a smug look, “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you.”

She hesitated before kissing him on the cheek. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”

————

Months after Y/N’s visits started, Bruce was doing some research for a case on his tablet as he ate dinner.

“Margaret Caulfield’s engagement party is tonight,” Alfred broke the silence of the manor as he took Bruce’s finished plate.

Bruce looked confused on why he was supposed to care.

“Y/N will be there,” Alfred added.

But Bruce still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“Master Wayne, when you attend all those sufferable parties, what is the first question people ask you?”

Bruce thought for a moment. “When I plan on settling down, I guess.”

“Now imagine that, but magnified by about 100…and that is what Y/N’s experience is at those same parties. That young woman is one of the brightest people in Gotham and all those people care about is who will put a silly ring on her finger.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, now understanding what Alfred was getting at. “I’m not her boyfriend, Alfred.”

“And you’ve made damn sure of that,” Alfred said a little too harshly.

Bruce watched him carefully.

“Y/N has fought off every one of your attempts to be a miserable recluse.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“And don’t you dare try and tell me her efforts are wasted,” Alfred cut him off. “I’ve seen a change in you. And she has asked for absolutely nothing in return. She’d never ask you to pick her over Batman. Though she bloody well should!”

He wasn’t done.

“You’re not living, Master Wayne. And I won’t apologize for wanting more for you.”

Bruce just sat there and took it.

Alfred took in a breath, calming himself down. “There’s a suit waiting for you in your bedroom. I’ve decided I’m going for a evening walk.”

——————

Y/N didn’t know how many more champagnes she’d have to shrug to start feeling the buzz she so desperately needed.

Not even an hour of being at the party and she’s already been asked 15 times if she was seeing anyone. And when she answered no, half of those ended in them trying to set her up with someone.

As Y/N was trying to think of an excuse to escape, an old family friend approached her – a friend of her grandma’s unfortunately.

“Y/N, dear, let me see those hands!”

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes and snap, but she did as requested.

“No ring yet,” the woman teased, but she was also genuinely disappointed.

“That would be my fault, actually.” A voice said behind Y/N before she felt a hand on her lower back.

“Oh, Mr. Wayne, how nice of you to come!” The woman beamed. “Now, Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell anyone that you and Bruce are an item?”

“My fault again,” Bruce chuckled, “I’ve always enjoyed a good secret.”

Before she could ask more, Bruce smiled politely. “If you could excuse us for a moment.”

He steered Y/N to a private area of the party.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed at him. “The press are gonna have a field day. You and I will be every headline tomorrow.”

He smiled at her frantic concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m serious!”

Bruce captured her lips, silencing any further panic from her.

Y/N was completely caught off guard, but he wasn’t letting her go so easily. And soon, her hand went to the back of his head and she kissed him back.

Damn all the people who were probably watching them.

When Bruce finally let her pull away, he smirked at her dazed look and cupped her cheek.

She matched his smirk.

But then reality set in like a splash of cold water and she frowned.

“Am I – Is this your new cover?” She asked shakily, so scared that the answer was ‘yes.’

She could tolerate being Bruce’s friend for the rest of her life. But she wouldn’t survive being used in such a way. She couldn’t live in a fake relationship with a man she actually loved. She’d rather watch his sloppy persona with girls hanging off of him.

“No cover-up,” he muttered to her. “Just me and you – the real me.”

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

I worked so hard on this 😩 Please let me know your thoughts.

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman reader insert #alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth & reader #batman fic #batman universe #dc #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne reader insert #batfam #batboys #batman x you #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne angst #batman angst

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kuraichykoochie · 3 years

Text

Xiao with a Male S/o whose helping out a friend at their cafe.

A/n:Quick note this part is based off of something I saw on Pinterest.But I changed the plot up a little bit.I don't quite remember their user but credits to them and their art.This is also has a few ocs of mine and my friends such as Elliot and Zhu Li

Pairings:Xiao x male reader scenario.This is something you can also find on wattpad @KuraichyKoochie

"You seriously want me to do that!?"M/n exclaimed.

"YOU WANT ME TO DRESS UP AS A MAID TO HELP YOUR CAFE?!WHY CAN'T YOU GO FIND SOME OTHER PEOPLE TO DRESS UP FOR YOU!"

M/n was on call with Elliot and he became flabbergasted at what he was requested to do.

"Oh my god M/n!Just do it!I don't have all day trying to persuade you to do it.I have other things to do."Elliot replied lazily.M/n sighed in return and face palmed.

"But why ME out of all people,"He asked.

"I don't know?You seem like the nicest one to ask and you kinda look like a girl so it's a win win situation for me,"Elliot said.

Although M/n knew those words weren't meant to be offensive it still did hurt his pride a lot.And when he says a lot he meant a lot.He looked down and sighed before speaking up again.

"Yea yeah I guess I'll do it."

"Oh my thank goodness.Well whatever come to the cafe later on around like 12.You got that?"Elliot said sighing out of relief.

M/n also sighed but out of all regret.

"Yes yes I'll be there."He replied reluctantly.He was zoned out until he felt arms wrapped around his waist.He jumped but slowly relaxed after realising who it was.

"Oh Xiao it's just you.You scared me,"He said.Xiao just grunted and hurried his face into M/n's s/c neck.The feeling left M/n a little ticklish but he brushed it off.

"So you were on the call with Elliot?What did he ask from you now?"Xiao asked.M/n sighed before explaining.

"Oh is that so?"Xiao asked one more time just to confirm what he just heard.M/n replied with a soft 'yes'.

"Well...I wouldn't want too show you off to other people in a maid dress but if it's Elliot why don't you help him?He helped you that one time back then for Valentine's didnt he?"Xiao stated.M/n eyes widened as he slowly remembered.

"Oh yea.I guess..."He said not really motivated to be wearing a maid dress.

"Well if you're going to help you might as well start getting ready soon.You have to leave at 12 right? It's 10:30 right now."Xiao said.

After hearing this M/n stood up quickly,getting out of Xiao's grasp and made his way to the bedroom to get ready.Xiao looked at the direction M/n went in.

𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 "𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗" 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢.T^T.

An hour had passed and M/n was finally ready.

"Well I'll get going then Xiao!i'll see you soon okay?"M/n waved goodbye.As he was about to leave the house Xiao had quickly grabbed his wrist and looked straight into his eyes.

"You forgot my goodbye kiss."He said firmly as he closed his eyes waiting for his kiss.M/n just sighed playfully and planted a kiss on Xiao's forehead.

"There."

Xiao still didn't let go of his grip on M/n and still stood in the same part.

"I gave you one.You can let go now,"M/n said.Xiao shook his head still waiting with his eyes closed.

"On the lips,"Xiao whispered.M/n then kissed him on the lips and was about to pull away until Xiao had stopped him by holding onto the back of his head and making the kiss even deeper.

Xiao pulled away from the kiss and smiled 'innocently' at M/n."bye,be safe."He said.M/n looked at him dumbfounded.𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝-?M/n shook it off and greeted him goodbye to.

"Mhm Bye!"He said before leaving the house.

ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(;￣◇￣)┘

"M/n.Your finally here.You sure did take your good ass time I see."Elliot said looking at M/n in distaste.

"Hey!What do you mean I arrived here just in time!"M/n said trying to defend himself.

"Yeah sureeeeee.It doesn't take you 45 mins to get to my cafe when you leave at 11:30 now does it?Os what distracted your idiotic self this time?"Elliot said triggered at the fact M/n was late by 15 minutes.

M/n started darting his eyes in different directions trying to come up with and excuse.

"Well I uh- Uhm- I was uh-.Oh yes!I was helping Bennett with moving his stuff!He kept dropping everything so I decided to help him out!Although it did take longer than I expected."M/n explained to the male who seemed as if he had pulled an all nighter for 5 days straight.

Elliot just shook his head.

"Awe~How nice!"Elliot said obviously faking the happiness in his voice."well go dress into this in the back room.I'll open the store while you're at it.Zhongli,Razor,Barbara,Noelle,Kaeya,Amber and Fishcl are there to.How did I get them to do it?I honestly do not know."

M/n looked at the male in shocked."IF YOU ALREADY HAVE SO MANY PEOPLE HELPING YOU WHY DID YOU ASK ME FOR HELP!"He said in anger and slight embarrassment.Elliot looked at him in disappointment.

"It seems you do not know the way this gets me money do you?"Elliot said shaking his head.He just handed M/n the maid outfit and forced him into the back room."now go get dressed."

M/n walked in to see the other 7 already dressed.

It was quite funny seeing how Razor and Zhongli were dressed as maids whilst Fischl, and Amber were in butler outfits.(Barbara and Noelles are also wearing a maid outfit and Kaeya a butler one)

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙺𝚊𝚎𝚢𝚊,𝙰𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍.𝙵𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚕?M/n shook his head annoyed before he went into the corner of the locker room and started to wear the outfit.

"M/n.Start.Soon.Quicker"Razor said informing M/n that they were starting soon.M/n just nodded his head okay.

"Yeah I'm nearly done.You can wait for me outside okay?"He answered.Razor just nodded his head before making his way out of the locker room.

M/n finished and closed his locker that had all his stuff in it.He quickly took one more look inside the mirror in the room to check is he looked alright in the maid dress.

"Okay perfect?"M/n said and confirmed with himself that he looked good.He went out of the locker room and closed the door behind him.

When he stepped one door out of the room he could smell the aroma of all the sweet food enter his nose.He looked into the kitchen to surprisingly see Xiangling cooking some sweet madame as well as some almond tofu.

"Hi Xiangling!I didn't know that you were going to be helping aswell."M/n greeted the chef cooking.

"Ahahah M/n!It's nice to see you again!"

"Well good luck in serving the customers!Today is gonna be a pretty busy day after all it is a special event!"Xiangling wished M/n good luck.

M/n bowed before leaving the kitchen to go into the main part of the shop.

"We're opening the cafe now so be ready,"Elliot announced as he turned the closed sign to a now opened one.

It didn't take a while for a few customers to come in and order something.The first person to go lead the customer to their table was Noelle.She showed them their seats before taking their order.She was a real natural.

More customers started to walk in after a while and then next thing they all knew the cafe was busy as hell.

"M/n!GO OUT THERE AND FINALLY START HELPING!YOU CANT JUST STAY THERE HELPING XIANGLING COOK!THERES A REASON I ASKED YOU TO BE A MAID FOR ME!"Elliot scolded M/n.

M/n looked straight into Elliot's blue eyes.

"B-but I don't wan-" he was cut off by Razor who put a menu in his hands and by Fishcl who pushed him into the main room of the cafe.

"Gu- Oh uh"M/n stuttered as he looked down at the floor."Welcome back master?"He greeted although it sounded more like a question.

"Wow Xiao!You see I told you we should have came!"Zhu Li announced.M/n lifted his head up in shocked and blushed when he made eye contact with Xiao.

"I-oh Xi- I mean Master!I didn't know you were going to be visiting today!"M/n said in surprised.

Xiao just nodded his head.

"Me either.I was just forcefully brought over here by Li as she wanted to see how Amber was doing,"Xiao explained.

"Well let me take you to your seats masters!"M/n informed.He brought the pair over to a table of two and had handed them the menu."what would you like to have today?

"I'll have some almond tofu."Xiao stated.M/n nodded his head as he wrote it down in his small note pad before he looked at Li waiting for her order.

"I'll take the Universal fried rice!Also looking good M/n"She said.M/n eyes winced at that last part.

"Thanks!Your order will come up shortly!And for drinks?"

"I'll take a coke!You Xiao?"Li asked Xiao.

"I'll have a sprite."He answered.

"Perfect!Your drinks will come soon and the food may take 15-20 minutes or so!"M/n informed before he made his way to the back room to drop off the order.

ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(;￣◇￣)┘

The orders for Xiao and Li were finally finished and M/n placed them onto the tray before making his way to Xiao's table.

"Here are your meals masters!"M/n said cheerfully.And yes he finally got used to his role and was perfecting his job.

He took the foods off the tray and placed them in front of the two before he made his way out.

Zhu li went in for a bite and let out a moan when the food reached her taste buds.

"MMMM!Xiangling's cooking never fails to surprise me!Is it good Xiao?"Zhu li said.Xiao just nodded his head in reply as he ate his almond tofu peacefully.

He kept an eye on M/n and all the customers he was serving.He was happy that nothing bad had happened to him so far.That was until he saw something that triggered him.

A stranger had just taken a photo of M/n under his skirt with his phone.

He immediately stood up from his seat about to make his way towards the strange man.But he was completely taken aback when he saw the male now drenched in some chocolate milkshake.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!?"M/n asked in anger."that is completely rude sir!I hate to tell you but I need you to leave the premises!"

Murmurs started to occur.

The male looked at M/n in disgust.

"What are you talking about!I didn't do anything!I want a refund for my food for this terrible behaviour and I will call the police for your random assault."He said trying to defend himself.

M/n glared at the man who shivered under his gaze.

"Sir I am telling you that you must leave right now,"He stated calmly.The stranger scoffed and was about to stand up and hit M/n.

That was until a leg stopped his from getting up.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOI-?!"He was cut off.

"that should be my fucking line you useless bastard.So?Do you want to leave with your own two feet or would you like me to throw you out the fucking window?"He said angrily.

The stranger looked at him in shock and became frightened.Xiao was ready to punch him but was stopped when Elliot came in.

"I want you to leave this Cafe right now bitch,"Elliot bluntly said."that is unless you want me to take this into a case?"

The stranger shook his head before he bowed multiple times and quickly left.

The uprise had finally calmed down and the others went back to what they were doing.

"M/n I'll allow you to get off early this time.I'm very sorry that had happened to you.I shall destroy the SIM card and this phone so that it will no longer bother you,"Elliot apologised before he left.

M/n quickly let out a loud "it's okay!" And left to the locker rooms to go change back.When Xiao heard this he quickly finished off his almond tofu before he quickly entered the locker room.He went in only to see M/n shirtless.

He walked over to M/n before he wrapped his arms around his S/c waist and snuggled his head into M/n's neck.

"Ah Xiao!Let me finish changing then we can cuddle when else get home."M/n commented.Xiao just tightened his grip on m/n not planning to let him go.

"No"he stated firmly.M/n chuckled.

"I'll make almond tofu whenever you want me to.I'll also give you all the cuddles you want AND I'll buy you this games you've been wanting to get,"He said trying to bribe his man.

Once Xiao heard this he immediately let go and stared at M/n expectantly.M/n gushed over how cute he was being before he quickly finished changing and grabbed his stuff.

"Okay I'm ready let's go!"

Xiao immediately picked up M/n and held him bridal style before leaving through the back door.

"Xiao!Put me down!I don't need you always carrying me!"

"Only if you promise to buy me those games."

"Of course I will!Ill even get them for you even if you don't put me down.I would do it just because I love you!"

"I love you too."

"So are you going to put me down?"

"You said you would still buy me the games even if I didn't soooo no."

"XIAOOOOOO!WAIT NO THAT TICKLES STOP IT!Ahahaha!"

#Genshin #genshin impact #xiao x male reader #Oc #Xiao #maid cafe #fischl #Amber #Kaeya #noelle #keqing

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ask-elliotgang · 3 years

Note

Pichu's evolve from happiness/friendship if I remember correctly, do you know what event made Elliot evolve?

ELLIOT: “Oh. I think I evolved some time during middle school... Yeah I remember!”

[content warnings: mentioned school bullying, ableism, reclaimable slurs, transphobia and homophobia]

It was a sunny day.

I was sitting on the hide-out’s patio.

I brought Isabelle with me because she was the only person in my class who actually wanted to be my friend, only person my age who called me by the right name and pronouns... And she was just super nice! And I get a feeling that other students weren’t really nice to her either.

So I invited her over to my special hide-out! Where only me and my Obāchan knew about. Well I had to tell her in-case I hid out one day and didn’t come home and got her worried. Where was I... Oh yeah.

We were playing naughts n crosses. I beat her every time, either making it tie or that I won. I remember it really clearly now!

She was super mad that I was really good at the game!

I remember her saying “Are all boys good at this or is it just you?”

I looked shocked for a moment because she had actually called me by what I was. A boy.

I remember I packed up my book and pencil case after that and we started talking about school. She said that I should join some clubs but I declined and told her that none of them took my fancy. I only was really interested in contests, even if that interest was considered ‘feminine’ to most of the other students at my school.

She replied looking a bit fed up, telling me she had the same interest, but that others would just tease her and tell her that she’d never be able to make it because she was an ugly dyke. They would also bully her for not thinking like other people and having weird reactions to things just because her brain wasn’t wired like a normal Pokémon’s was!

I snapped back at her telling her that she those other people were wrong and just stupid idiots! If they treated her different because of her autism or interests! I basically drilled in support at her for a good 20 minutes.

At the end she was crying in happiness that somebody actually cared about her. Because at home all her mom wants her to do is things that. Well. Her mom wants her to do! And her dad didn’t really do much but drink adult drinks from bottles mom would bring home.

I offered to help her train up and make ideas for contests. Maybe even helping with mine at the same time. I remember that she accepted happily and gave me a huge hug.

“Thank you. Thank you for being my best friend Elliot. You make things better here.”

I heard her say that.

Nobody had told me that before.

And I smiled. Real wide until my face hurt.

And before I knew it, I was standing before her as a Pikachu!

The next day at school was a bit awkward, she’s the class rep and made me stand up to announce that I evolved and looked different.

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redleavesinthewind · 2 years

Text

something’s gonna happen today!! you don’t know what but i do!!!! stay tuned

#elliot’s idiot announcements

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Text

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter thirteen: babel

word count: ~10.4k

rating: e

warnings: allusions to past trauma, mentions of negligent (and perhaps abusive) parental relationships, dead bodies getting dumped and a lot of mentions of blood. i feel like elliot's father should have a warning of his own because the man is absolute bananas. also: explicit sexual content ahead! hints and/or allusions to a praise kink, oral fixation, uhhhhhh elliot being drunk on her own sexy power what else is there to say you know

notes: hiiiiiiii friends! i took a little break from the Social World of Tumblr (and thus, writing) but i'm back now! i know i keep saying like, "this is the LAST chapter before the action REALLY hits" but unfortunately while these two idiots share precisely one brain cell among them, they have a lot to say on the matter. this chapter is exclusively john and elliot (with flashbacks etc) but it felt really important (and also: good!) to give them a little time to themselves before they make back to hope county. i appreciate y'alls patience and i really hope you enjoy this chapter; i'm really proud of it and pleased with how things are shaping up!

thank you forever and always to every single one of you who reads, comments, kudos-es, etc--anything to let me know you're enjoying what i'm putting out there is so helpful. i love you and kiss you! special thanks of course to my beta, @starcrier, for helping me when i kept getting lost in the sauce and letting me borrow her eyeballs all the time, as well as @shallow-gravy and @vasiktomis for being a second & third pair of eyeballs when i kept getting stuck. all of you have my heart!

She is seven when her father comes home.

“It’s me,” he announces with a lopsided grin on his face. “Don’t you remember me?”

She does. She remembers scratching his beard with her fingers, and counting the freckles on his face when he pulls her up into his arms, and the smell of his aftershave and tobacco clinging to him like a cloud on a rainy day. Still, her feet stay planted on the floor—even as his arms open to receive her—and she looks back at her mother.

“Go on,” her mother says, arms crossed over her chest, “give your daddy a hug.”

When she gets close enough to be in reach, Ambrose wraps her in a bear hug and squeezes until her ribs ache a little and says, “There’s my Elli,” like she was missing. Like she had been gone all this time. Like he hasn’t been gone from her, missing from her, like she doesn’t sometimes wake up from a dream where he’s home and remember that he’s not and cry.

She squeezes back, as hard as she can, so that the hug can say; please please please don’t leave again, please.

Her father makes a big show of remarking about how strong she is, feigning crippling injury and collapsing halfway to the floor before he flashes her another grin—full, white teeth—and says, “Mama says you’ve got lots of little hiding places out in the woods, bunny. You wanna show me?”

Elliot opens her mouth to respond, but her mother interrupts. “Don’t encourage her, Ambrose.”

“Kids love to have hiding places,” he tells her, hand on the top of Elliot’s head. “It’s natural.”

“She’ll be tracking mud through the house all afternoon if you let her run wild.”

“It’s fine,” her father says, light-hearted despite the way her mother’s expression tightens, “your parents don’t mind.”

They don’t. Her papa and nana laugh every time she comes back speckled with mud, or with twigs in her hair; they say, look at her, Scarlet, don’t you think she’s such a doll? And it makes her wish they could stay in Georgia forever, instead of going back to Montana.

She holds her father’s hand as they trek across the field and into the woods. It’s hot, but beneath the trees the air cools significantly; she shows him the large, overgrown hickory that probably hasn’t been touched in a decade by anyone except her, and the gaping sinkhole-turned-miniature-body-of-water where she dangles her legs over the edge and waits for something to come out from the bottom, and the river where she sees what she is sure is the same glossy crayfish snake come back to say to hello.

Her father says, “Well, these are mighty fine, honey. Thank you for sharing them with me.”

She feels special. She smiles, for the first time since he’s been back, and he carries her back on his shoulders so she can reach up and touch the branches and leaves before they break the treeline. He says don’t you think it’s nice, Elli, being up there? Don’t you want to be up there all the time? and she does think it’s nice, and she does want to be up where she can touch the secret place in the trees where only the birds can go, and she’s happy that he’s home. She ignores the way nana and papa whisper in the kitchen, pretends that she doesn't hear just going to leave again and don't like the look in those eyes, you know the kind.

It’s two weeks that he’s back before she comes bounding into the house, excited to inform her daddy that the glossy crayfish snake made his return, when she sees the body on the floor.

Ambrose turns and looks at her. There’s blood on his face. He lifts his hands. They’re covered in blood, too. His shoes make a wet sound against the wooden floor and leave crimson prints. As he steps towards her, his movements are tight and controlled, the way her papa’s horses look before they hit the track; a little frantic. Like they’re in a frenzy, but it’s bottled up, ready to snap. He kneels down in front of her, close now, and his hands lift, and the smell of wet, hot copper washes over her like a tidal wave.

“Hey,” he says, like nothing is wrong, like the body on the floor isn’t deathly still and she can’t see the blood seeping out from below the lump of person occupying the space just over her father’s left shoulder. “You’re back, huh? You wanna help daddy?”

Elliot blinks. Her stomach and chest feel tight. Suddenly, all thoughts of reporting on the snake have flown her mind. “Who is that man, daddy?”

Her father’s eyes look a little strange—dark, no longer their bright, vibrant blue, but blown wide with something, and she doesn’t know what. He says, “A mean man, Elli, a mean man who was going to try and take you away from me.”

“Um,” she says. “W-Why did they—?”

“This world is full of men who will take from you,” he says urgently, like she hasn’t said anything at all, like he can’t even hear her. “Full of it, and you know what you’ve got to do, bunny? You’ve got to put them down. Like a sick dog. You know about that, don’t you?”

There’s a little tremble in her lip. She thinks she’s going to be sick. Not cry, not all the way—but maybe be sick.

“Some men will try to take from you, and you’ve got to put them down,” her daddy says, his voice low, his hands coming up to cup her face, the smell of blood washing over her again as his thumbs press against her temples and his fingers are in her hair. Some of the blood smears on the corner of her mouth and she can taste it, a dead man’s blood, still sticky and warm. “You’re going to help me, won’t you?”

A nod happens without her consent. She doesn’t know what she would say, if to say no; he kisses her forehead and leaves a mark of blood there, like a christening. He talks the entire time he drags the man by his feet out to the back porch, stops in the doorway and says, “We can clean that up when we get back,” and there’s a weird little way it makes her feel special when he says, we can clean that up, because he’s been gone all this time but now they’re a we.

She wonders if she should be scared. If the dead body should worry her, make her cry, make her panic; but all she can think is, why would someone want to take me from my daddy, when he’s finally come home?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The air vibrates with the song of cicadas and birds. Her father drags the dead man by his feet through the trees; she leads, a few feet ahead, one foot planted in front of the other. Each second feels longer than the last, each passing moment dragging on for an eternity. She thinks, I will just keep walking; she thinks, it’s our secret; she thinks, maybe now he’ll stay.

When her daddy pulls the man’s body over to the edge of the sinkhole, he stops. He takes his shirt off, still covered with the man’s blood, and makes it into a little pouch, filling it with rocks. The air stops vibrating. The birds stop singing. Nothing rustles the undergrowth. Suddenly, Elliot thinks that the animals have discovered the smell of blood, have identified a predator larger than them, and have fled.

She counts the scars littering his chest. There are thirteen of them. Purpled and jagged, like they didn’t quite heal right. There’s an awkward jut in his ribcage where it looks like a bone is trying to push through his skin. He ties the shirt full of rocks to the man’s leg and pushes him over the cliff—down, down, down, down into the water, sinking lower. When will he touch the bottom, she wonders? When will his dead hands hit crust, or maybe further? Magma, deeper down? The earth is full of molten-hot magma, isn’t it? Will he turn to ashes? Will his ashes float back to the top?

Elliot thinks about how she likes to dangle her feet over the edge and wait for something to grab her. Now she knows, for sure, that something will be there.

Ambrose plants his hands on his hips and watches as the dead man’s body sinks into the water, dragged down by a bloody shirt full of stones. The gesture is very funny, very human, very dad, and Elliot has to swallow back the urge to laugh. She wants to throw up.

Some men will try to take from you.

“You wanna ride my shoulders back, Elli? Reach the trees?” he asks her, patting her head. It reminds her of how hot it is; the air, thick and humid and quiet, swallowing up their secret like the sinkhole filled with water, so deep deep deep that maybe the dead man will never come out and grab her ankles to pull her in.

You’ve got to put them down.

She can’t stop staring at the water. Ambrose says, “Elli?”

Like a sick dog.

“Yeah, daddy,” she replies, swallowing, “I wanna.”

His hands are carmine-colored. He grins, full and with teeth, and lifts her up with ease onto his shoulders. This high, the sinkhole zooms and blurs out of her vision; her head swims; her daddy grips her ankles like he’s going to drop her in with the dead man.

“Can get some ice cream when we’re home,” is what he says, and starts walking back to the house. She doesn’t have an appetite.

“Sure, daddy,” she replies.

“You like ice cream, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Gotta clean up first,” he amends, “but after.”

Elliot hunches a little, sets her chin on top of his head and doesn’t reach for the secret place in the trees only the birds can go. It doesn’t feel like it’s for her, anymore.

“And Elli?”

She closes her eyes. Her arms drape over his shoulders; her fingers brush one of the wicked-looking scars welling up on his chest. Where did he get them, she wonders, leaves slinking over her hair, grazing her cheeks, where did these come from?

She says, “Yes, daddy?”

“This is just between you and me, bunny.” Ambrose reaches up and pats her knee. “Alright? And remember—”

A dead man, a dead man at the bottom of the water, a secret just for us.

“Don’t tell your mother.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Nine hours on the road, and Elliot finally relented to taking a break.

Not, of course, without precautions. The whole trip so far had been precautions. She’d made him drive all the way up North to go through the toll with the Jeep’s current license plate, swap to the license plate she’d apparently taken off of her mother’s car while he was packing his bag, and drive back down through the toll again.

“That should put them on a chase,” she’d said, sighing a bit like it was a relief, even though she instructed him to drive three hours out of the way before getting on the shortest shot to Hope County again. And drive he did.

And drive, and drive, and drive.

Surely, he thought, at the four-hour mark, we should pull aside.

Surely now, he thought, when five hours had passed, but Elliot remained silent. There was a weird tension about her, in the clench of her jaw and the nervous way she skimmed her nails against the nylon of the seatbelt, the way her eyes fixed on the road even as the sky started to grow dark overhead.

Each time he stopped to gas up, he’d lean against her window until she’d roll it down to look at him expectantly, and he’d say, “Don’t you think we should pull in for the night?”

“No,” she said, every time. “Not yet.”

Not yet, even when the snow came down heavier than before. Not yet, even when night fell, hard and fast and early. It’s not far enough yet. Even with the assurance that Pritchard had certainly taken down the license plate marked and traced through the toll gate they had skillfully gone back through disguised, she didn’t seem content with the distance they were putting between themselves and Weyfield—and whatever it was that was lingering there, waiting for him.

Waiting for them.

Still, it was impossible to linger on it too long, because every time he started thinking about it there was another overwhelming wash of relief. It didn’t matter really, did it? If there was something waiting back there for her, for him, for them? Because they were going home, to Hope County, and there was no fucking way John was going to let Elliot slip through his fingers again.

“Ell,” he said, when they had reached a stoplight in the middle of some podunk Missouri town, the windshield wipers running nonstop to battle the near-constant snowfall, “we need to stop for the night.”

Elliot’s leg bounced in the passenger seat. She dug the nail of her thumb into her lower lip. The light flipped to green, but John didn’t let up on the brakes.

“Fine,” she said at last. “Let’s stay in that motel.”

Said motel that she indicated with a jerk of her head looked to be, perhaps, the hunting ground of every serial murderer that had ever existed anywhere at any point in time. The VACANCY sign flickered and buzzed in a lukewarm attempt to appear inviting. John grimaced.

Someone behind them honked. He sighed, let the car roll forward through the light and then pulled into the parking lot of the motel. Up close, it looked worse—sad, desolate, sagging. He supposed, idly, that it was fitting for the two of them on the run from the (possible) Federal Marshall on their tail, and for leaving behind waking nightmares.

Putting the car in park, he sat for a moment before sighing. “Wait here,” he said, and heaved one more sigh before he climbed out of the car, leaving it idly and with the heat turned on.

About twenty minutes of back and forth with the front desk clerk—who looked not at all happy to assist despite the claim of the inspirational sign hanging on the wall beside her, and would have much rather preferred to cease helping him at all despite his insistence that Boomer would be the most well-behaved—he had made it back to the car with a dingy room key in his hand.

“Last and final offer to pay a little more to stay in a place that looks a little less like a breeding ground for an STD.”

Elliot rubbed under Boomer’s chin. “It’s better to stay someplace like this,” she informed him. “Less chance they’ll come checking for us.”

“And who,” John replied, “is they, Elliot?”

“Anyone,” she snapped. “Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose not.”

They hauled their meager on-the-run belongings into the room at the end of the motel’s long stretch of rooms; Boomer squeezed between their legs to dive in first, nose to the ground as he inspected what John could only assume were a myriad of scents stained into the short carpet forever and always. Elliot dropped her duffel onto the floor and closed the door behind them, throwing the lock and then dragging the curtains shut.

When she turned back and really looked the room over, her expression twisted a little, crumpling before she took in that which John had been anticipating and thus had already seen: the thin, scratchy comforter, the radiator on the wall, the door to the bathroom which seemed to sag in its doorway, the tiny patch of scuffed linoleum stretching in the corner where once, he thought, perhaps, a kitchenette had stood. No longer.

“What the fuck,” Elliot sighed.

“My sentiments exactly,” John agreed.

The redhead rolled her eyes, stretching and wincing a little. She looked tiny; swallowed up in thick, heavy fabrics, cheeks flushed and wisps of her hair sticking out of the haphazard ponytail. The coppery hair dye she’d used was beginning to fade into a strawberry blonde, giving away to the true cornsilk color underneath again. But even as he stood there, watching her peel off layer after layer of coat and sweater, he thought, I know no one else better than I know her.

Without pretense, Elliot announced, “I’m cranking the heat up. And then, I’m going to take a bath. And you know what I’m going to do after that, John?”

“I couldn’t begin to hazard a guess.”

“I’m going to pretend like you don’t have a tendency to ruin things every time I think you’re really making a decent effort,” she continued tartly, nudging the bathroom door open and turning on a light which ended up being so viciously fluorescent she almost immediately turned it back off, “and sleep next to you without strangling you.”

“Romantic,” John said.

“Fuck you,” she replied.

“Might as well get it all out now,” he ventured, “before we get back to Hope County and you have nobody else’s side to be on but mine.”

Elliot scoffed and started the bathwater. “If you mean get out all of my irritation with you, then rest assured you have an immense talent at raking up my ire with ease. It wasn’t the first time you’ve made me want to punch your teeth in, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

“Contrary to what you might think, I love when you talk like that.”

She made a disgusted sound, peeling her shirt off over her head and shimmying out of her jeans. Boomer had, for some reason, selected the few tiles of dingy linoleum to settle on, but not without dragging one of Elliot’s coats over to make a nest in. John stifled a sigh.

He peeked out through the curtains, relieved to find that there were a number of other cars that seemed to belong to folks already settled in for the night. Despite the fact that the place reeked of potential crime scene, there were a number of inhabitants; as much as he almost preferred to keep driving rather than stop here, he knew that it was best.

The sound of water splashing drew his attention back to the source. Even though the bathroom light was off and they hadn’t turned anything on in the room, he could see Elliot, sinking into the water as far as she could. John shrugged out of his jacket and set it across the singular dining chair (not a lounge chair, but just a...dining chair, sitting, vaguely threatening, in the middle of the room) and sat in the doorway to the bathroom. The room itself was cramped, but the bathroom seemed barely capable of holding all of its necessary components.

In the dark, his wife heaved a sigh.

“Water’s cold,” she muttered.

“Unsurprising.”

“You think someone was killed in here?” She waved her hand. “Not like, the room, but here in this bathtub.”

John snorted. “Probably.”

“Ugh.”

Another moment of silence stretched between them; John glanced at Boomer, already snoozing, face tucked beneath his tail and curled tightly up on Ell’s coat. Sitting down again—and sitting somewhere that wasn’t in a car—was making him painfully aware of how tired he was. His whole body ached. Weariness tugged at the edges of his vision, coaxing his eyes shut. He thought, I could sleep right here, probably, if I needed to.

Elliot said, “I think my dad made me help him hide a body.”

His eyes blinked open. He expected to find her under duress, but instead he found her—frowning. Contemplative. Reaching for the drain in the bathtub but not quite ready to pull it yet. He’d heard so little about her father—even from Scarlet, who seemed to hold him in some kind of high regard still—that this was the first real introduction.

“You think?” John asked. “That seems like a big thing to be unsure of.”

“Human memory is funny,” she replied. “I was little. Couldn’t have been more than seven, I’m pretty sure since—” She stopped for a second. “Well, I mean, he left, you know.”

He did know. He’d scoured her documents after she’d left, memorizing and re-memorizing every little detail about her that he could, anything to give himself the upper hand or an edge in figuring her out. Ambrose had left Scarlet and Elliot when Elliot was only eight, and had never come back. Not to mention the numerous times he’d disappeared since.

There were a lot of questions, of course; whose body? How much of it did she remember? Could it have been a dream, and not a memory? She’d been having a lot of those lately. Dreams.

He said, “Where?”

Elliot looked at him. “Back in Weyfield,” she replied after a second, seemingly caught off-guard by his question—like she had been expecting him to brush it aside, to dismiss it as, in fact, a dream and not something she was really remembering. “In the woods, behind the house. We would go there every summer to visit my grandparents, even when my dad was gone.” She scratched at her cheek absently. “There were all of these little trails, you know—animal trails—and all of these places I liked to go. Way back was this like....pond,” and she gestured vaguely with her hand. “It was really a sinkhole, that had been filled with water over the years because it’s so close to a river, so it was really deep. Local kids liked to jump in it a lot. They used to say the devil would come up and grab you if you were a sinner.”

She stopped talking, and didn’t elaborate. She didn’t have to. John knew what she was thinking about—dumping a body in it. Whatever she had been thinking about for the entire drive to Missouri, she had been running it over and over in her head. And now she was giving it to him.

Sharing it. With him.

Elliot pulled the plug from the tub’s drain and sighed, reaching for the towel hanging on rack.

“Ah—I wouldn’t,” John cautioned, swatting her hand away. “Not sure where that’s been. Wait here.”

As he went to fetch one of the towels he’d lifted from a hotel on his way to Weyfield, he heard Elliot climbing out of the tub, water splashing, and thought against about what she’d said. A sinkhole, and a man he’d never met, and a body he’d never seen, suddenly handed to him without prying it out of her. There’d been no tantrum. No venom. He’d become the person that Elliot worked through her reflections with—at least, in this moment.

“Thanks,” she muttered, when he returned to hand her the towel, wrapping it around herself. “Fuck, it’s freezing. Turn the heat up more, will you?”

“Sure,” John agreed. He reached up, tucking some hair behind her ear, drawing her eyes to him. “And then afterward you can lay in bed and not strangle me.”

“Exactly.”

“Or,” he added casually, “you could, if that’s something that you’re interested—”

“John.”

“I’m just saying, we’ve had so little time to explore your sexual fantasies.”

“My fantasy,” she replied coolly, “is you shutting the fuck up.”

He grinned. A moment of silence passed. Elliot announced, feigning saccharine, “So sexy.”

“Get dressed before you get sick,” he prompted. “I’ve already had to listen to you wheeze through pneumonia once.”

He leaned in, feeling comfortable—close—enough to kiss her; she froze, stilling, and he thought about how easily she’d confessed to perhaps being complicit in a crime so many years ago, and he thought about how easily she accessed her wrath, and—

And she kissed him. She clutched the towel to her and kissed him, and it ended faster than he would have liked, but when he leaned in for more she said, “Maybe we don’t make out after I tell you about a childhood trauma,” and he felt a little thrill of victory sweep through him—because the amount of time between when Elliot would tell him to keep his hands off of her and when she would let him back in were growing smaller and smaller by the day.

He watched her as she slipped past, shuffling around in her bag for her clothes, her angry words from before settling like a film over his mind. Have you ever done anything for me that wasn’t for you too?

No, he hadn’t.

If I didn’t have the baby, would you have even come for me?

“John,” Elliot complained, “the heat.”

I want to go home.

Biting back the urge to laugh, John manged out wryly, “Yes, dear,” before he turned his attention to the radiator ticking and rattling laboriously below the window, trying its hardest and failing miserably to warmth the room. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. How had he missed it?

I told you, the thought running over and over and over in his head, I told you, I knew it all along.

You were always mine.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

( start running, elliot )

The dead man’s blood on the tongue, put there by a father’s hand. It’s the first taste. She brushes her teeth over and over again, rinses and spits, scratches the flat of her tongue,

You like ice cream, don’t you?

( pine needles underfoot, wet cotton on skin, and the woods—the horrible, dark mouth of the woods, opening and opening to scream but no sound comes out, )

like she scrubbed the floor, working the rag between her hands before sopping up the sticky, dark liquid from the floorboards. She bares her teeth in the mirror, and she thinks she can see the man’s blood sticking between them like a plague, the same way her daddy looked when he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and smears the blood and then grins at her and his white, white teeth—always so much teeth—are doused in red,

Give your daddy a hug,

( lungs aching for air, eyes burn from gunsmoke and dirt, do you feel guilty, elliot, for what that man did to you, )

and he looks like a monster, and she bares her bloody teeth in the mirror and she looks like a monster, and she cries and cups the water in dirty, bloody hands to rinse it again and again and again. She’s seen blood before, had it in her mouth when she trips and falls or that time she punched the neighbor boy and he swung back,

This is just between me and you, bunny.

but she’s never tasted blood before, not like this, it’s different when it’s someone else’s, when it belongs to someone who’s

( i’m glad they blew her fucking brains in, and the ground collides with her back, and there’s the taste of sweat and blood in her mouth just like that day when the cicadas buzzed too loud and the sound died out of the forest, and i wonder, elliot, will you feel guilty about this too, )

dead.

Don’t tell your mother.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot stirred, kicking the sheet further down her legs a little and sighing. She couldn’t sleep; every time she closed her eyes and started to drift off, the sound of gunfire echoed in her head, the smell of pines and wet blood and sweat filled her senses. Each moment spent half-asleep and half-awake meant that her brains busy sorting and compartmentalizing of what had been dredged up now blended together furiously, over and over again, dark, rich color and sound overlapping until she couldn’t make out one end from the other.

The heater rattled against the wall, sputtering out bursts of hot, dry air, and beside her she felt John shift and roll over, his nose brushing the back of her neck. He’d gotten comfortable with it—all of this touching, even after her outburst back at the house, but she thought, too, that John had always wanted to touch, had always wanted his hands on her. One way or another.

Not this one.

Always grabbing, and touching—except when he wasn’t, except when someone else was doing it and she was ready to kill, to maim, to bite, until someone else was doing it and John let them and she knew, she knew that too late he had realized she had been relying on him, even back then. Even when she would go to sleep at night thinking I hate him I hate him I hate him to avoid counting sheep.

This one’s not clean.

Had she ever been?

“Don’t cuddle me,” Elliot murmured. Her voice was hoarse from non-sleep, from that strange space between waking and dreaming. “It’s so fucking hot in here.”

The brunette hummed, breath fanning against her skin, the pads of his fingers tracing the slope of her hip through her shorts. Still, he was mindful not to drape himself over her—instead, he dug his thumb past the elastic band lightly and skimmed over the sensitive stretches of skin marred with gossamer scars. Goosebumps prickled along her shoulders, up the back of her neck, reminding her that no matter how much time she spent pushing him away, even still he somehow managed to get under her skin.

“John.” His name came out of her as a warning, but it came out half-hearted and without any bite or sting; hearing it come out of her was like hearing a stranger, the stretch and pull of his name odd-fitting and uncomfortable. She realized, with a sinking sensation, that it hadn’t come out as a warning at all, but a plea.

He heard it, too; he paused, like the timbre of her voice had caught him off-guard. Calloused fingers splayed against her hip bone and then gripped, squeezing for a moment.

“I’ll turn the heater off.” He spoke the words into her skin and went to pull away—the departure of his warmth, and the strange chill that came in the wake of it, had her rolling onto her back and catching his wrist to stop him from getting too far. In the dark, John hesitated. Neon from the motel’s sign outside cut across the foot of the bed, slicing red along his shoulder, and illuminating him in an eerie halo. He looked the same way he had in that dream, interlacing their blood-covered hands, just like me, you’re just like me.

She said, “Don’t.”

Waiting exactly where he was, halfway pulled away, John stayed propped up on one elbow. He was far enough that his body warmth was no longer seeping against her already-overheated skin, feverish and sensitive with a strange, uncomfortable sensation; and she wanted him back again, wanted him close, wanted his mouth on her neck and his hands on her and anything he would give her, if he would just give it to her.

That gnawing, itching little hunger inside of her, that voice that said, John’s always been there, it’s always been John, we always knew he was here, waiting for us, wanting us.

She said, “Stay.”

Again, her voice felt like a stranger’s—but she didn’t feel far away from herself, didn’t feel like a passenger, an audience to her own unraveling. She was there, in her body, watching John’s eyes sweep over her in the dark and half-neon glow, letting his hand twist in her grip to cradle the crook of her arm and roll her all the way onto her back.

She thought, briefly, my mother would be having an aneurysm right now. The whisper of rational thinking almost prompted a laugh out of her, and Elliot was sure she would have sounded hysterical if she let it come out. There was no need for that kind of restraint, anymore. She couldn’t go back. There was nothing in Weyfield for her. Just a mother who didn’t want her—was embarrassed by her—and friends who couldn’t know her, not really, or they wouldn’t have liked her at all, and

( a body, a body, don’t you remember, that day when the air was buzzing with cicadas and the glossy crayfish slinked through the water and you let your daddy drag a body through the woods, crushing underbrush and poisoning each shade of green and purple and white wildflowers with red, red, red, so much red, can’t you taste it can’t you feel it under your tongue, don’t you remember, )

in the end, Joseph John had been right.

With one arm wedged under her pillow, half-caging her in against the bed, John’s other hand lifted; the pads of his fingers went to the Wrath scar, tracing the mark he’d left before his eyes flickered up to meet hers, waiting expectantly. Elliot shifted, just enough to angle herself toward him a little, wishing—wanting, again, that troubling, tiny word—for him to grab her the way he had before, grip her hips with bruising force and dig his teeth into her neck but unsure how to tell him that’s what she wanted.

My husband, she thought absently, as John’s hand began a leisurely pace down her sternum and pushed the end of her tank top up; down further still, pausing only when she kicked the blankets from her legs all the way, thumbing once again at the band of her shorts. My husband, isn't that a thought? Someone belongs to me.

On instinct, her hand went to his. She gripped his wrist for a second, a little tension gathering in the hollow of her jaw, I want I want but I don’t know how to say, her lashes fluttering; John’s nose brushed the slope of her cheek.

“Ell,” he murmured, his voice rough, “what do you want?”

Touch me, something inside of her said, even when she found herself stiffening a little, touch me, touch me, tell me you love me again when no one else will, tell me again how you love me even when I taste like blood, especially when I taste like blood.

“Did you think about me?” Elliot asked impulsively. The thought that had sparked through her mind needed to be washed out with something, anything else. “While we were apart?”

His eyes were dark in the dim light of the motel room. There was a little push and pull of his jaw, too—familiar. She was frustrating him. Her question had pushed him somewhere he didn’t necessarily anticipate being.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice low.

“Like this?” she prompted again, loosening her grip on his wrist and letting his hand slip beneath the band of her shorts. It felt electric, giving it to him—watching the way his eyes flickered with want and that tension wadded up tight and vicious as he tried to keep his composure, even when greedy fingers dug beneath the fabric of her underwear still, even as she lifted her hips a little to meet that touch and the breath left his nose in a sharp exhale.

“Is that what you want?” he countered. He sounded barely-even, barely-put-together, but she could tell he was trying. “For me to tell you that I thought about you—”

Yes.

“—just like this, grabbing my hand and putting it where you want it most—”

Yes. Her throat felt tight, holding his eye contact harder and harder with each passing moment.

“—and taking,” John said, voice catching a little as the glide of his fingers pulled a low, uneasy whimper out of her, “what you want from me?”

Yes, the word, stuck in her throat despite how true it was; yes, waiting for her to say it, to tell him—John, who had no problem telling her that he loved her—to be as honest—

(if it was honest, if he meant it,)

—as he was.

Calloused fingers dipped, nearly sliding home but too quick on the retreat; Elliot couldn’t stop the disappointed little sound, the breath, that came out of her, but the noise was quickly quelled when John brought the offending fingers up and slid them into his mouth. Tasting her, hungry for her, and she couldn’t look away—not even if she wanted to, and she didn’t want to, not like this, not when John half-sighed, half-moaned around the taste of her on his tongue.

She said, somehow managing the words out above a whisper, “Is that a yes?”

“Not quite,” was his reply, once his hand had returned to its leisurely exploration, always circling the part of her that wanted him the most but not quite going there; teasing, gliding, dropping his mouth to the slope of her stomach and her hips to kiss there, his breath fanning hotly. “Because I didn’t think about you when we were apart.” His free, unoccupied hand lifted, tugging the fabric around her hips down down down, further still to expose more to him; Elliot squirmed, stomach twisting as he said, “I’ve been thinking about you—”

“John,” she said, just like before—not a warning, but a plea.

“I have,” John reiterated more forcefully, “been thinking about you, Elliot, but not just while we were apart.”

Oh, she thought, oh, don’t say it, John, don’t—

“You have no idea,” he murmured into her skin, “how long I have thought about you, just. Like. This.”

The room was hot, too hot, so hot, and each breath felt like a mouthful of bathwater, slick and wet as it filled her lungs. Shifting again, John settled between her legs, pressing two fingers into her and lifting his gaze to hers when he did. Elliot knew that he wanted to see her—wanted that veil to lift, the scales to fall, drop from her face and leave her open and vulnerable for him; and when he beckoned his fingers against her and he dragged the flat of his tongue at a pace that was so infuriatingly slow she thought she might never see the end of it, a sharp, violent spark of want sprinted up her spine. It gripped at the base of her neck with hot fingers, spreading warmth through her cheeks and head until it was so muggy in the room she couldn’t quite think straight.

But that wasn’t true. It was different this time. John was pulling her open, prying her apart, but she was letting him, and she had never felt clearer.

Elliot sighed his name in a shaky, uneasy breath, reaching for him; his hand caught hers, lacing their fingers together as he set a pace that was both too slow to get her off and just fast enough to build and build and build and build, moaning against her when her nails dug into their hand-hold a little. The competing tension between his mouth and tongue and the molasses-slow crook of his fingers against her was enough to make her squirm again, trying to shift and garner any little grind of friction she could get.

Shameless, something inside of her said. She was. Gripping John’s hand, she tangled her other into his hair and made a sweet sound.

“Not going to tell me to speed it up, are you?” John asked, having glanced up to gauge her. “I don’t want to. I want to take my time, Ell, I want—”

“I thought about you too,” she cut in over him, her voice unsteady, drenched with want. “Before, but—especially, I thought about you when we were apart.” Elliot’s lashes fluttered and she made a low sound, half frustration and half want. “I thought about you like this—”

She heard him breathe out a near-inaudible fuck before he was back on her. This time, he was less teasing, more direct; she knotted her fingers in the strands of his hair and resisted the urge to chase the heat of his mouth with her hips, trying to keep her thoughts straight—but every time she thought, I’ve got to get it under control, she’d search and search and search only to find that she was in control, that nothing about this felt wild or uncontrollable.

“Tell me,” the brunette said, his voice hoarse. “You thought about me? Like this?”

Elliot’s breath felt a little shallow, that wet-hot heat coiling tight and unforgiving in the pit of her stomach. “Yes.”

“Before we were apart.” The pad of his thumb dragged against her, breath fanning silkily, and her body leaned into it involuntarily. “You thought about me, like this—desperate for you, before we were apart.”

“Yes, John,” she ground out between her teeth, that little budding frustration at being so close and so far all at the same time feeling like it was dropping wall after wall in her head. What else could she say, to get him to just put his mouth on her? “Fuck, I—what do you want me to say? That I—”

“Touched yourself,” John finished, filling in the gap the way he wanted, voice thick with want, “and thought of me.”

Yes. There was that silly little shred of honesty, again. How many times? Before, and before-before? Before the reaping, when the idea of having sex was repulsive but the idea of John Seed filling the person-shaped hole in her fantasy while she got herself off had not been? Before John had showed up in Weyfield, and she’d been so fucking sad, but even more than that she had just wanted someone to put their fucking hands on her and wasn’t John so good at that, and wasn’t it so easy to think of him doing it; John, dropping to his knees in front of her, moaning against her, getting himself off while he ate her out because just the taste of her on his tongue and the sound of her sighing his name was enough to push him over the edge, and John, burying his face into her neck, fuck Elliot please Elliot I know you love when I fuck when I come in that perfect fucking—

“I did,” Elliot said without thinking, the words departing her mouth hungry and wanton as John picked up the pace of his fingers. “I did, John, t-think about—fuck, I thought about you and touched myself, thought about you fucking me and—”

“Don’t stop,” John bit out, pulling what little fabric remained between them out of the way and her down the bed so that he could nose past the damp hair at her neck.

“Yes,” she breathed, yes yes yes, “just like this, I th—” Her breath hitched as he pressed up against her, not quite all the way but enough to make her body tense and ache from the absence of it. “—thought about you just like this, John, the way it f-feels when you finally—oh, John—”

An embarrassingly wanton sound came out of her when he finally pushed in all the way, and then he just stayed, not moving and not working that friction he’d spent all that time building up. The brunette moaned against the hollow of her jaw, one hand gripping her hip and digging his fingers in just enough to make her whine.

“Fuck—” John breath stuttered, but he stayed exactly put where he was. “Wanted you the second I put my eyes on you, Ell, don’t—don’t fucking stop telling m-me—”

He’d always said I’ll give you anything you want, and she didn’t know why he wanted it so bad—but now, like this, listening to him, she thought she did get it. She thought about giving him exactly what he wanted, and how it would unravel him, and she felt in control in a way nothing else had ever made her feel.

“Feel so good,” she moaned, breathing the words reverently, yes we know, we know what you like, and we’ll be honest when we give it to you, “Christ, you—feel so good, John, even when I was just thinking of you I—k-knew—”

“Made for me.” He pulled back just a little and then rocked all the way into her again, making her keen and whimper, squirming underneath him. “Weren’t you? I knew it, too, back then and when you left and now, I knew it, that we were meant for—fuck, we were meant for each other.”

It felt like everything in her body was pulled tight, cranked to one hundred. There was nothing that could have been worse than John fucking her like this, slow and with intent, grinding those words against her skin like he was just barely holding himself back—and maybe he was, but she wanted so badly to tell him to just fucking move. But if she did, the magic would snap, break; she wouldn’t be giving him what he wanted, she would be telling him what to do, and maybe she liked that, but right now she was taking his magic and using it for herself.

Elliot tilted her head. Their noses brushed; John’s slow, unhurried pace of fucking her enough to spark pleasure with every connection of their bodies but not enough to quite get her there, perpetually strung in a strange purgatory of wretched want.

“It never—” She arched up against him, encouraging more, more more more, please, I want more. “—never felt—this good, John, not with anyone else—”

“Fuck me.” John’s voice pitched to a whine at her words. He was caught wanting, but there was no game this time, not really. No competition of who would break first—only the breaking, across the board.

“—just you,” Elliot coaxed, hungry to hear that kind of slip again, “it only feels good l-like this—fuck, John, you feel so fucking good and you’re the only one who m-makes me feel this way—please.”

He moaned, hand sliding from her hip to the small of her back so that he could pull her up against him a little—and then he really started moving, and she felt that heat start spreading again, purposefully fueled, moving at the pace of a lava flow but burning and grinding every nerve-ending on its way. She barely registered that she was sighing and moaning his name, please John please John yes just like this just what I wanted I always wanted you just like this John, because somewhere in the humid, cloudy haze of her want, as she inched closer and closer to her finish, she could hear John, too.

Always, he was saying, always knew, as he fucked her, always knew you were meant for me, when his teeth caught her skin a little too hard and she whimpered, always knew you were mine, as his pace shifted a little, a man incensed, sick to death with his own magic, fucking I knew it fuck I love you I love you Ell I fucking—

“John—” His name left her mouth again, a plea, shameless. “Please—”

“Fuck, I—” John’s voice peaked, torn with want as he pulled back to look at her, drinking her in. “F-Fuck, you—look so fucking good—don’t you stop, Ell, don’t stop telling me how much you—how much you fucking w-want—”

He’s close, something inside of her whispered, insidious and wicked, and it was right; and Elliot squirmed and shifted up underneath him, onto the pillow so that she could see him better, too, before she said, “Not yet.”

The brunette blinked hazily at her. “What—?”

“Don’t,” she told him, pulling him closer, “come yet.” And then, when he’d ground out a frustrated noise between his teeth, she added, “Not—until I say you can.”

“You’re such a—” Elliot arched up, tugging him tighter against her. “—fuck, such a fucking—”

“Say it,” she murmured silkily; he made a vicious sound and dug his fingers into her hip. “Come on, baby—”

“God damn it—”

“—you want to come, don’t you?” She sighed, and moaned against him, not just yours, anymore, I know it, too, this magic, the thought permeating dreamily as she brushed her lips against the spot just below his ear. “Tell me what a—hm, what a brat I am.”

He groaned, broken and wrecked. “You are,” he said, like she wasn’t goading him to say it, like he had to defend his opinion on the matter. “A f-fucking—brat, Elliot—”

“Yes,” Elliot murmured in agreement, the words driving the red-hot spike of want ever higher in her, “but look at how good I’m being, for you.”

John whined. He dug his teeth into her pulse point a little, just enough to make her moan, and it felt like pulling, shredding, tearing at the edges of her senses. Against her skin, he managed out, almost spitefully, “Please.”

Too good. No wonder he loved to hear it coming out of her mouth, no wonder she’d gotten such a fucking high that night she’d killed Kian and he’d said that word to her. Nothing else in the entire world could have mattered in that moment except for the weight of him, the taste of him, the way he said again, “Please, Elliot, I—” And then, as though to swallow whatever ego he had: “I want it.”

She settled back against the pillow, pushing on his chest so that she could look at him. His eyes darted to the scar on her chest hungrily; loose, silken strands of hair fluttered into his face from where she’d raked her fingers through it. She wanted to give it to him. She was close, too, teetering on the edge as his hands roamed her body and he resumed a steadier pace, having pulled himself back from the finish line.

Elliot said, “Try again.”

Annoyance, frustration—maybe anger darted across his expression, overwhelming the hunger, and he said, “I don’t think—”

“John,” she breathed, skimming her hand along his chest, emboldened by this new high she found, “I want you to finish in me.” She rolled her lower lip between her teeth, the half-sigh half-moan coming out of her when John’s eyes fixed on her mouth and a wrecked sound was pulled out of him. “So badly. Don’t you?”

“Please,” he ground out, his voice breaking a little, “please, baby, I—want to—I want it so f-fucking—fuck, I want it so bad, Elliot, please—”

His words cut off when Elliot pulled his hand up from her hip and brought it to her jaw, letting his fingers skim her lips before she guided his thumb past them and into her mouth. His eyes fluttered, his movements grinding to a stop.

“The fuucking mouth on—on you,” he breathed, almost a complaint. He pushed his thumb deeper into her mouth, watching transfixed as Elliot moaned and arched up against him, so close, I’m so fucking close, John, but she couldn’t tell him—only hollow her cheeks like there was nothing that she wanted more than to have him inside of her anyway she could get it. Look at him, that wicked thing in her said. Look at how he’s looking at us, like he can’t get enough. Like he’ll never get enough of us.

And he said, his eyes never once leaving the way she dragged his thumb from her mouth, “Please let me come, Elliot.”

Oh, there it was—the magic sequence of words she wanted to hear. It was like something had clicked into place, fitted slots sliding together until everything was exactly where she wanted it, and the desperation in his voice was so fucking good and he looked like there was nothing that he wanted more in that moment. There probably wasn’t.

“Just like that,” she murmured, a sweet iteration from before, “just like that, that’s all I wanted, John, all I—you can have it, it’s all yours—”

He moaned her name, frantically and haphazardly slipping his hand between them; he was breathing out, “Yes, yes, fuck yes, come on, Ell, pretty baby, come on, give it to me, I want it—I want it so fucking bad,” when he finally pushed her over the edge, whining his name and twisting her fingers in his hair until he was finishing. Even as he fucked her through it, even as he said, “Fuck yes, Ell, fuck yes that’s my fucking girl, so fucking good for me,” like he was going to yank her right back and push her over again, he kept her pulled close and flush against him.

She could barely breathe. Slick, heavy drags of pleasure pulled through her body like the tide, and John’s breath puffed against her neck, and he dragged his mouth over the flushed places where his teeth had been a little too rough.

“Pleased with yourself?” he murmured huskily, carefully disentangling their bodies just enough that he could wedge himself against her side, effectively feeding the problem that had stirred her in the first place; being too fucking hot. Elliot made a low, thoughtful noise.

“A little,” she admitted. “But there’s still room for improvement.”

A breathless laugh billowed out of him. “Oh, is that so?”

“Sure.” She shifted, stretching a little shoving her arm under the pillow, not bothering with the blankets. “I mean, you didn’t say thank you.”

John’s hand, which had been making its ascent up from her hips and to her sternum, paused; he brushed his thumb against her pulse, and the feeling of his fingers splayed against the column of her throat made her heart jump a little.

“Well,” he said after a moment, dipping to kiss her shoulder, “if you’d only said.”

“Shouldn’t have to tell you how to use your manners.”

A low, throaty noise came from him. “Criticism noted. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Elliot replied exhaustedly. “Turn the fucking heat off.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

John woke up to the sound of whispering.

He wasn’t sure what it was, precisely, that stirred him out of sleep, not right away. He didn’t know what it was that made his skin prickle and his eyes flicker open, staring across the room at the red neon cutting into the wall. As he gathered his thoughts, his senses, he realized that Elliot had gotten out of bed.

He took a minute to collect sensory information. The room had cooled down since the radiator had been turned off; the door to the bathroom was open and the space empty, which meant she wasn’t in there. As he sat up a little, back to the door and trying to figure out where it was that Elliot had gone, he heard it.

Whispering.

He turned to look over his shoulder. The curtains were pulled back from the window, allowing the full, stuttering static light of the sign outside to bleed in through the glass and across the ground-level room. Their bags were untouched, exactly where they’d left them; Elliot’s paper coffee cup on the table and the book she’d been thumbing through before climbing into the bed, the heater silent and no longer ticking, and Elliot herself.

Elliot, standing at the door, palms flat against the cheap vinyl wood, whispering into the space where the door didn’t quite reach the frame.

A strange, uneasy chill crawled up his spine. He thought of Elliot, screaming in the car and insisting there was a dog with man’s face. He thought of Elliot, panicked and barefoot in the snow on the street, telling him that a stranger knew about their baby. He thought about Elliot, face relaxed, I told Joey I can’t let her in.

They were somewhere in Missouri, now; there was no way, right? There was no way that the woman from the road that night was here, too, on the other side of the door. But if he sat very still, if he stayed very quiet, he could hear the pauses in Elliot’s breath—and thought he heard someone’s responding whisper slipping through the crack in the door.

For a second, he couldn’t move; that cold dread wound tight and vicious in his stomach until it was in knots, over and over again, watching Elliot sway on her feet, long hair tangled and the copper coloring faded and violently washed out in the neon light. John pulled himself out of bed, taking care not to make too much sound—not that his footfalls against the thin, bowling-alley-esque carpet would have made much sound to begin with—and closed the distance between himself and his wife standing at the door.

“...eat, grin.” Elliot’s forehead pressed against the door, the words slipping out of her mouth almost inaudible. “Bloom, eat, grin. Wrath, do you want to bloom in me? Bloom, eat, grin. Wrath, do you want to—?”

Abruptly, she stopped speaking. John had come within a step or two of her. He watched her head tilt—inquisitive, sharp, machine-like, much like she had that night he’d found her struggling to open the front door at the house in Weyfield. She didn’t say anything. He could see, in the darkness, the cut of her eyes, keeping him in the peripheral.

She was listening. For him.

He stayed put where he was. This was unlike the ways she had sleepwalked before; she had always been distressed. Sad. Joey won’t let me sleep, I can’t let her in, or seeing things, terrible things—a dog with a man’s face. Sometimes, she had just been standing, staring blindly out the window. But this was different. There was a strange slyness to the way her head tilted, the flicker of her eyes, the twitch of the corner of her mouth, like she was holding down a smile.

“I see you,” she whispered in his direction. At him. “I see your color.”

Something whispered on the other side of the door, words he couldn’t make out—but he was sure he heard something. Quietly, without turning her full attention back to the door but rather keeping her head cocked in his direction, Elliot’s nails scratched at the vinyl wood; sliding down and down and down until her hand hit the metal deadlock. His eyes fixed on the quiet movements of her hand before he realized, with a sickening flush of panic, she was trying to undo the door.

“Elliot,” he whispered, reaching for her, “come on, let’s go back to bed.”

He was going to put her back to bed, and creep back to the door to find out who it was looming on the other side. It would be easy. A kid, perhaps, playing a prank; even someone trying to break in and rob them, thinking they were talking to someone who was fully awake.

But as his hand neared her, she snapped viciously, “I see your color, John. I see your color, I see—”

He barked out, “Elliot, stop!” sharply, abruptly, the sound of his voice reverberating off of the plaster walls and making the redhead jump as the panic rose high and fast in his throat. She blinked rapidly, clearly disoriented. On the other side of the door, the sound of footsteps hitting pavement echoed; something cut across the line of neon red filtering through the room, but as soon as he’d gone back to the window to see, they were gone. Boomer had risen to his feet, ears pricked and alert, hackles prickling along his spine as he darted to the window to look outside at whatever it was that seemed to be alarming everyone.

And then, Elliot’s voice, soft and distant: “John?”

When he looked back at her, she looked more like herself. Confused, but her eyes no longer held that glassiness that came with sleepwalking, and that odd, sly cruelty had fled her expression, too.

“Hey,” he said, eyes darting to the window again. No movement, in the dark, night; no movement on the sidewalk that had been shoveled clean of snow, or between the cars, or anywhere except for the snowfall filtering through the night.

“Where—” She paused, swallowing thickly. “Where am—”

“In the motel room,” he told her, moving back to the door and double-checking the lock with one hand, the other touching her hip—wanting to brush the slope of her tummy, to see if maybe he could sense through just tactile purpose alone if the baby was alright—and then going up to her shoulder. “In Missouri. Remember?” Elliot’s eyes fluttered uneasily. “We’re going home?”

“Oh,” she said, “yeah.” She didn’t sound certain.

“Elliot,” John said, drawing her eyes back to him, reaching for her with his other hand now, “are you...”

His voice trailed off. The wariness in her expression bloomed exponentially. She was bracing herself; are you okay? The words stuck in his throat, because he knew the second he finished that sentence she was going to pull away from him. I’m not crazy, she’d said, after saying something that John thought might certify her as such, but given what he knew she had been through he’d let go of.

Sort of. Anyway.

“I’m fine,” Elliot replied tartly.

John’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Don’t,” she said, “make me regret—”

He thought about the sound of feet hitting pavement, and about the sound of whispering drifting through the door. I see your color, John, and he thought about the way the neon had flickered when someone had darted in front of the window when he’d raised his voice.

“We should get up and leave anyway, don’t you think?” She didn’t pull away when he swept the pad of his thumb over her cheek, flushed and feverish as it was, her skin clammy. “It’s, what—”

He glanced at the cheap alarm clock on the bedside table. It blinked 3:00 AM at a leisurely, uneven pace. Blink, blink. Friendly reminder that they’d only slept a handful of hours. That someone had been outside their door. It was better—ideal, even, preferred—to just go when they might not expect it.

“Yeah,” Elliot replied after a second. “Okay, yeah. We should go. Just leave the key on the table and—”

“Sure,” he agreed. “Better to be on the road as much as possible.”

“Okay.” She pushed the hair from her face and stepped out of his grasp, immediately setting about gathering up her clothes and slipping into them again; John hurried into his own clothes, grabbing the car keys from the bedside table. Boomer circled impatiently at the door. Elliot glanced at him, zipping up her coat and then the duffel, and said, “John—”

He stopped in the doorway, hand on the deadlock. Elliot’s eyes were stuck on it. She looked apprehensive. Her mouth opened, to go on, and then closed.

Bloom, eat, grin. Isolde had confirmed that the Family was still afoot, and killing. And the woman in the street—had she been related? Elliot refused to talk about her. Didn’t bring her up again after her panicked nighttime jaunt. Wrath, do you want to bloom in me?

John said, “We’re going home, Ell.”

A strange, unfamiliar shade of relief colored her expression. Her lashes fluttered, and she nodded.

“Okay, John,” she replied. “Going home.”

#far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic #fic: witching hour #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #ch: ambrose honeysett #fc5 oc #john seed/female deputy #john seed/original female character #my writing #i am so happy this chapter is DONE #i cannot stare at it anymore

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animeangsteng · 3 years

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A3! Act! addict! actors! (I hope they’re in order)

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mindibindi · 3 years

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Hey, thanks for you essay response about Elliot and Olivia and how they’ve changed! I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t like Elliot. I’m an original fan (especially around Season 7-8), but I lost interest entirely when Elliot left and was a little surprised to see it’s still on when they announced his return. So, I’ve been catching up on what I missed and I see your points for sure. I just thought your referring to them as “idiots” in your previous post was right in line with my sense of humor on the issue. I love both these characters so much that I’ve been spending all this time catching up on 22 years of TV, so definitely don’t get me wrong! I’m sorry, I would give you a better response, but I’m under a lot of stress right now in my life and I’m just using this show as an escape, like many, I’m sure, and I just wanted to correct the record 😊

Sure, Anon, I will post this publicly, for the record, I hope that's okay. And yes, I get that you were joking. I think as an EO shipper (or fan of these characters), you have to have very well-developed sense-of-humour. How else would you cope with the heartache? My mini-essays tend to have an element of free association so I can get a bit ranty.

I suppose I was more responding to a general sense of misunderstanding among some fans of Elliot's character and his relationship with Olivia. I feel the need to defend him because he gets a lot of hate for being a toxic guy "who does bad things" to Olivia, when in actual fact, it's the writers that continue to put her through the wringer. Elliot would rather die than cause Olivia pain. Literally. But the SVU team seem to get their jollies from [SPOILER ALERT] killing off people she cares about, taking away her job, abducting her son, abducting and torturing her then letting her torturer re-traumatise her in court (amongst other things). Elliot is just their latest instrument for Liv-torture-porn. But he's the instrument, not the torturer.

Anyway, if you're catching up on the show, you will be finding all this out. I think Chris' return has encouraged a lot of old fans to reconnect with the show. I watched through to s16-ish before getting too annoyed. And I never, never, NEVER thought the day would come when these two would be reunited. It's still kind of magical to me that Bensler are back together onscreen. Maybe that's why I don't care too much that whatever the hell they're doing makes so little sense! We are living through super crappy times and I think a lot of us are using narratives outside of our own stressful experience to provide some sense of distraction, comfort and meaning. The collision of these two rich, passionate characters with their sad, unfinished history was one of the few highlights of 2020. So fingers crossed that the sadistic writers of SVU and OC can ultimately do them justice.

#law and order svu #law and order organized crime #svu #oc #eo #bensler #bensler reunion #elliot x olivia #olivia benson #elliot stabler #ask #i have too many thoughts y'all

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

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What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader

Chapter 10- The End of Something Part 1

Summary: After the painful battle to get Vanya back, you then watched as Diego attempted to save the president. Failing in the process. Now here you are, facing the forces of evil, just trying to find a way home.

Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch

You sit on the bottom steps inside of Elliot’s place, listening to the tv reporter drawl on and on about the dealings and names of you and the other Hargreeves. Raising your eyebrows when he called you, a former bartender who had a reputation for purposefully injuring customers. Yeah, when they were harassing random people who just wanted to have a good time in peace, you think angrily to yourself.

You sit back, listening in amusement to the six of them bicker about letting Kennedy die, being wanted criminals, and where all of you should go. Klaus adding input about some weird place with friendly but strange people. And Five promptly turning it down, explaining how the Commission will never stop hunting all of you down, no matter where we all go. Diego cutting in with his own understanding of how they will, in fact do just that. Five giving him a confused face, ��I’m sorry, since when are you an expert on the Commission?” Questions Five, intently staring at Diego.

“Since I got back from there.” He answers turning to look at Five’s even more bewildered face, giving Diego a short, “What?”

“Yeah, they headhunted me and Y/N, she wasn’t there for the briefing, but they offered us a job. Full time with benefits, which I had to turn down.” He explains casually to Five.

Five’s eyebrows raise in suspicion, “They headhunted you, the village idiot.” Five quips, chuckling in puzzled amusement.

Diego looks at him, offended by his smaller brothers disbelief in him achieving something for once, “What, am I not allowed to be headhunted? Only the almighty Five needs to be in demand?” Diego growls at him, annoyed that Five seriously can’t fathom him in charge of anything.

Five shakes his head, “Diego, you’re not Commission material, all right? Got an obstinate nature to ya.” He says matter-of-factly, earning an offended look from Diego.

Five then points out, turning to you, “Now, Y/N on the other hand. I can see why they would recruit her. She’s got a strong will in the face of danger, and never compromises a well thought out plan. Also she can’t die, so that’s a loaded benefit.” He adds, nodding to you, then looking up smartly at Diego. You turn to Diego, giving him a wink with a delighted smirk. He rolls his eyes, presumably at the both of you.

“Who do you think it was that figured out Vanya was the one that causes doomsday and stopped it? Me. That’s who.” Diego snaps.

“Hey!” Klaus says in defense of Vanya, a hand sassily on his slender hip.

“I figured it all out on the Infinite Switchboard.” He says while smiling and leaning in closer to a confused Five. “You were on the Infine Switchboard?” Five questions.

“Hell yeah. I made that machine my bitch.” He says smiling excitedly while looking at you first and then the others. “Y’all need to recognize I got shit going on y’all don’t even know about.” He snaps back, starting to sound like he’s spent too much time in Texas.

Allison’s head snaps up from her own seated position higher up on the staircase, “Oh, sorry. You’ve got things going on?” She asks him, wide eyed.

“This isn’t helpful.” Mutters Luther while looking at the ground, tired of everyone’s nonsense.

Vanya silently turns to walk up the stairs, passing by a laughing Klaus, amused by Five and Diego’s heated squabbling about the Commission.

You get up off the bottom steps, stepping between Diego and Five, walking yourself over to where Luther is standing. As Diego continues to sass Five, “Look, I met the Résistence in their secret lair. All right? I went through orientation and I passed and stopped doomsday.” Huh, did he now? If you weren’t to busy blacking out from getting electrocuted then maybe you could have joined him. Oh, well.

——

You and the others start bickering back and forth about where to go or what to do next. Calling each other out for stupid shit and just genuinely being disagreeable. You hear the sound of keys jingle and the familiar pattern of Vanya’s footsteps, as she runs down the stairs opposite of the rest of you. All standing in your various spots around the middle of the room, you look up at her. She makes eye contact with you for a split second, a worried expression clear on her bright features. “I’m leaving.” She says quickly, looking to each of you expectantly.

“What? To go where?” Announces Allison loudly, confused as to why her sister suddenly wants to leave their temporarily only safe place.

“Sissy’s farm. Something’s wrong with Harlan, and I need to help him.” She replies, anxiously.

Luther speaks up, stepping in closer to your tiny group of 5, all staring at Vanya wondering why of all times would she need to visit someone right now, “Vanya, we need to stick together, okay? Now more then ever.” He assures her. You can’t disagree there.

She steps up closer to the rest of you a pleading look in her eyes, “That’s why I’m telling you this. Whatever’s going on with Harlan, I think I might have caused it” she tells you all, jeesh no wonder she looks so worried.

You shake your head, furrowing your brows, “How’s that even possible?” You ask her.

Sighing she continues her explanation, “He drowned, and, uh, somehow I was able to bring him back to life. And now it’s like we’re connected.” Her face a greater mix of fear and uncertainty.

“Wh... What does that even mean?” Wonders Luther, equally as perplexed as the rest of you.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain, but... I know that he needs my help.” She pauses for a moment before sighing softly, “I need your help, too. I’m scared. And for the first time in my life, I don’t wanna do it alone. I want my family by my side.” She ends with, looking pleadingly at the rest of you, hoping that she won’t get turned down again.

Diego walks up to Vanya, “Look, I’m sorry. We have other priorities right now.” He tells her softly, not trying to be unkind about her request.

“Diego’s right. For once.” Five adds, looking sadly at Vanya. “We need to make our stand here and now.” He whispers.

She looks to each of you dismally for a brief second, as she mutters a small, “Okay. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” Turning to walk out the door, without another word. The rest of you stand in somber silence. You suddenly look up at Klaus, making eye contact. He nods at you with a small smile, before turning and walking out the door after Vanya.

You quickly walk over to the door about to follow after Klaus when you turn to face the rest of the Hargreeves, “Well come on, we’re Team Zero. Remember?” Smiling at them, giving Diego a quick wink. You then swiftly walk out the door, heading straight for Vanya’s car.

Opening up the side door and shuffling your way to the middle seat, as Diego trails in after you, Allison opening up the left door and jumping in next to you as well. “Got room for three more?” Allison asks her, a big grin on her face.

Vanya looks at the three of you in confusion, “What about the Commission?”

“Well, might as well do some good before we die horribly.” Says Diego as you lightly punch his shoulder, Klaus giving a small “Whoo-hoo.” from the front seat. Five randomly appears next to Klaus, opening his door and briefly scaring him in the process. “Five, you... you don’t have to..” Vanya starts, incredibly surprised that everyone suddenly decided they wanted to join her. “I know. You owe me one, sis.” He smiles at her, suddenly turning to face Klaus, “Children ride in the back.” In his I’m-not-gonna-ask-again voice. “Okay.” Klaus answers by turning around and walking over the seat. Shoving his way, in between you and Allison.

“Move over fatass.” You jokingly growl at Diego, who does his best to scoot as close to the door as he can. Giving you almost no room, that now your right arm and shoulder are pressed tightly against Diego’s chest. You look up at him, trying to hold in a smile, he breaks by giving you a toothy grin in return. “Come here often?” He asks you, smirking. “Hilarious.” You deadpan.

“Guys, I don’t know what to say.” Vanya says astonished, while looking back at her packed car. The back hatch is suddenly pulled open, as Luther begrudgingly does his best to fit into the tiny cargo area. “If anyone makes a fat joke, I’m outta here.” He pauses for a second as all of you smile at him. “Y/N, don’t even look in my direction.” He sarcastically warns you, knowing too well how you’re not one to hold back on anything you find funny. Diego wraps his arm around you, trying to get more comfortable for the 15 minute ride to Sissy’s farm.

——

You look up out the window, noticing how the sky seems to be turning grey. Snow falls gently down into the grass as Vanya pulls into the driveway, “What the hell.” You mutter.

All of you hastily get out of the car Diego being the first to question the huge anomaly, “You think whatever’s going on inside is causing the cold front?” Wonders Diego, to no one in particular.

“Well, the correlation is high.” Answers Five, shutting the door behind him and looking up at the cyclone of energy coming out of the barn roof.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here, and say it is.” You add, getting an amused glance from Diego.

Abruptly a blonde woman holding up a gun and looking very terrified runs out of the barn and straight to the seven of you. Vanya reacts quickly, seeming to know what to do. As she runs to the woman raising her arms up, “Sissy! Sissy!” She calls to her. Trying to divert, Sissy, from shooting anyone.

“Get back! All of you, just get the hell back!” She screams, holding up her shotgun higher.

“Sissy! Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?” Vanya asks her calmly.

Sissy glances at the rest of you for a quick second before she speaks to Vanya, “Carl.”

“What did he do to you?” Vanya rasps out, terrified as to what she might say next.

Sissy shakes her head, breathing shakily, “He’s... He’s dead. Harlan tossed him aside like a rag doll, same way you sent those policemen flyin’. What did you do to him?” She demands.

“No..” Vanya tries to explain, Sissy cutting her off sharply, “What the hell you do to my son?”

Diego begins to step forward, you’re right next to him so you place yourself between him and Sissy before he can say anything else, just incase she decided to use that gun, “We don’t have time for this.” You tell her honestly.

She whips her shotgun in both you and Diego’s direction, barrel aimed right for your head. “Where you think you two’re goin?” She hisses, ready to strike at a moments notice.

Diego puts his hand on your left forearm, stopping you from snatching the gun out of her trembling hands, “To help your son.” He tells her.

“Look, Sissy, I found my family. These are my brothers, my sister, and Y/N, who I’ve know since I was a child.” She rapidly clarifies to Sissy, who doesn’t really know who any of you are.

A snap of crackling energy is heard through the cold air, she turns to the rest of you with furrowed brows. Luther gives her a tight lipped smile, awkwardly waving at her in a friendly manner, “Ma’am.”

She looks back to Vanya, “Where you lyin’ to me the whole time?” She says hurt. “Of course not. Look I didn’t know who I was. But I do now.” She pauses for a moment to glance at the rest of you, “And we are not the monsters that they say we are. We did not kill the president. We are not terrorists. We’re not here to hurt anyone.” Vanya reasons with her, trying to help her understand a little bit better. “Then....who are you?” Sissy doubts, a baffled expression clear on her face. “The only one who can help Harlan.” Vanya tells her confidently.

——

All of you follow behind Sissy and Vanya, as they lead you into the incredibly loud and windy barn. Vanya screams for Harlan to focus on her and calm down. You watch as this Harlan kid is suspended in the air, arching is back in an odd convulsion. You smirk as an annoyingly humorous intrusive thought pops into your head, “This is more like Harlan and the no good, terrible, very bad, day.” You shut your eyes and shake your head coming back to your senses, now is not the time for this, Y/N, you internally yell at yourself.

Your ears unexpectedly pick up the familiar whooshing sound of someone teleporting. Five’s right here, so who was that? You follow the sound, walking towards the other barn door that leads to the back field. Klaus noticing this, he follows your lead curiously. Your eagle eye vision spots two people, one you’d rather not ever see again. “Uh, Y/N?” Wonders Klaus, you ignore him, staring daggers at Lila and an eccentrically dressed silver haired woman. “Okay, um guys!” Shouts Klaus, catching the attention of Diego, Allison, Five, and Luther.

“Ah, shit.” Diego says walking up next to you, having also caught site of Lila.

“Who are they?” Marvels Klaus, is face scrunched up in confusion at the random people who just bleeped into the field.

Five answers that question without hesitation, “One’s the Handler, and the other’s Y/N and Diego’s friend.” Giving a sour face, not pleased with the surprise visit by either of them.

“Lila. That fucking bitch.” You growl, Klaus looking back at you in awe, astonished that the both of you managed to make a friend. Only for them to turn out to be working for the Commission.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. They both look angry.” Luther adds bluntly.

“Yeah.” Adds Klaus.

“Y/N has that effect on people.” Allison says quickly, not in a joking way either. You turn to her in mock offense, “Okay. I can’t really argue with that.”

“I’m gonna find out what they want. You guys stay with Vanya and the kid.” Five tells the five of you rushed.

“I’m coming with you.” Diego replies, you cutting in after him, “Me too, I got beef with Kill Bill over there.” You look at Five nodding in Lila and the Handler’s direction. He gives you the flash of a smile in acknowledgment. Both you and Diego turn to follow Five out the door.

——

“I love the smell of that fresh country air, don’t you darling.” States the Handler at Lila, looking at you up and down in curiosity.

“Makes me want to vomit.” Lila replies bluntly, standing as still as a statue while avoiding your gaze.

“What do you want.” Snaps Five, studying the Handler for any suspicious movement.

“What about me?” Diego asks Lila, dreading the possible consequences for fleeing the Commission without her knowledge.

“You’re not even worth my wrath.” She retorts sharply back at him.

You tilt your head in an annoyed manner whilst clenching your fists, “Unfortunately you’re worth mine.” You hiss angrily before continuing, “You electrocute me to death and then take Diego with you, without another real explanation? If we weren’t here to make negotiations I’d gut you before you’d even be able to scream.” The Handler gives you a surprised laugh, “Easy.” She states, glancing to the side at Lila. Who looks at you with a poker face, desperately trying to conceal her slight fear. Ever grateful for the current circumstances, involving more then just her and you.

“We’re on official business.” Explains the Handler to Five.

“And what business is that?” He snaps back with restrained anger.

“As the head of the Commission, I’ve decided to eliminate the criminals responsible for the assassination of the former board of directors.” She says matter-of-factly, smiling sweetly at the three of you.

“Yeah right. We didn’t kill the board.” Replies Diego before Five interrupts him from speaking further, “Uh, actually, Diego, that’s not entirely accurate.” He says pursing his lips.

The Handler turns to Five with a smirk, “You didn’t tell them? Oh, Five.” She says while giving him a fake pout.

You lean in close to Five, “Five what the fuck didn’t you tell us?” You whisper, great what did the little shit forget to mention now?

He gives you a hard look, “What I had to do to get my family home. Until somebody reneged on our deal.” He ends, glaring at the Handler.

You stand back, folding your arms as you listen to Five and the Handler argue back and forth about their deal going sour. Then how shit the Commission has gotten, Diego adding in his own input much to the Handlers surprised offense. Then Lila speaks up, angry at Five for something he did. Done with everyone’s rambling, you turn to the Handler when she sets the black briefcase down. “Enough. The point is, all of you are going to die today. Hmm?” She states, so sure of herself.

“Oh, really now?” You raise an eyebrow at her before continuing, “There’s eight of us, and two of you. If you haven’t noticed.” Telling her bluntly, ready just to finally be done with all this shit.

She gives you a knowing smile, “You know, you’re right. Let’s change that.” With a snap of her fingers, an army of Commission assassins zap into the field, ready to kill.

You, Diego, and Five look on in shock and a healthy amount of fear, “So, what do we do now?” Diego whispers to the two of you.

“Well, we got two choices: fight and die now, or run and die later. Either way, we’re food for worms.” Five replies nervously.

“Preference.” Diego questions.

“Wouldn’t mind a few more minutes breathing through the old windpipes.” Retorts Five.

“I can’t get captured, and turned into a weapon for the Commission.” You panic, turning to them with pure dread in your eyes.

“All right. Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Says the Handler while checking her watch. A moment later she pulls out a red silk handkerchief, dangling it in the air.

“Come on!” Yells Five as he, You, and Diego start booking it back to the barn. Fuck.

“And why are we all wearing black? Like who’s funeral is it?” You randomly blurt out.

“Ours if we don’t run faster!” Diego shouts back at you.

#the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x you #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy x you #number two #falcor the luck dragon stories #what a time to be alive fic #five hargreeves

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