AITA for keeping my brother-in-law's baby?

((TW: This piece deals with sexual assault, abuse and stalking))

 So I (22F) and my sister (27F) had always been really close growing up, like joined at the hip best of friends. A few years ago she meets this guy (34M) who she insists is her soulmate but he's a real piece of work. Like almost comically bad, like cartoon bad guy bad. Like first time she brings him home the dog runs up to greet him and he kicks her hard enough to lift her off the ground bad. So parents obviously don't approve of this guy, and sis comes to my room in floods of tears complaining how they never approve of anything she loves and I give her my honest opinion, that I don't like him much, she screams at me because I 'should be on her side' and leaves with him. I feel bad for not being more supportive and apologise to her because I don't want to lose my sister over this, you know? But it doesn't get any better.

Two years ago, sis and BIL get married. During wedding, groom gets completely blatted and comes on to me. I figure he's gotten me confused with sis (we look similar, I guess a drunk can get us confused) and tell sis and best man to take him home and quickly leave myself. Sis is sour with me for a while after, I'm not sure why and she don't tell me, so I'm like maybe she's just sour in general because of BIL? Every time I try to ask her about what's wrong she brushes me off. I eventually leave it.

Despite all this, sis and I still see each other often, but whenever BIL is there it's so tense and uncomfortable. It starts with him just leering a bit and saying some inappropriate things, but then he starts showing up univited without sis. Hanging around outside my flat, work and uni, sending me things, inappropriate texts etc etc etc. I don't recognise this as stalking at the time, but I do now. Block his number and complain to sis, and she tells me it's my fault for being so seductive around him??? I'm pissed off and tell her I'm just the same as normal and how is it seductive to sit around in band shirts and joggers eating burgers? She accuses me of trying to sleep with BIL at the wedding, and when I deny it she calls me a liar and tells me to stay away from her and BIL. Gladly.

He continues to stalk me and I ofc feel really uncomfy and unsafe so I stick with people as much as possible. In fact it gets worse once I'm no longer talking to sis. One evening he corners me while I'm taking the bloody bins out and that's when he manages to rape me, and that's when I get pregnant. I tell family what happened. Sis calls me a liar and tells everyone I've been seducing her husband this whole time. Parents take my side at first and tell sis to never ever bring BIL near the family again. Friends tell me to contact police whenever i see him.

I discover I'm pregnant at the beginning of the year. After a lot of careful thought and soul searching, I decide to keep the baby. Important to note that aside from assault I am a virgin. So people are asking who I've been with, who the dad is, I claim not to know, but sis gets back in touch with the family after seeing me visibly pregnant a few weeks ago and starts demanding to know who the father is. I tell her it's none of her business but she presses because she suspects it's her husband's baby. I do eventually admit to my family only that the baby is the result of the assault, but that I don't think that should define the baby's life and that it's not the baby's fault and that I want to protect it and myself etc etc etc. Parents are demanding I explain my decision to keep the baby so I'm launching into this whole explanation about how I haven't been well since the stalking started, haven't been looking after myself, but now I have this strong drive to protect myself and my unborn child, and all this other stuff about the baby's life and my life and stuff. Like I believe in a woman's right to choose, so even if it isn't the baby's fault where it comes from, if it's better for you to abort something like this go for it, but I've chosen not to because I genuinely believe that's what's better for me. Sis and BIL claim that me not aborting the baby is proof I wasn't raped but instead seduced him specifically so I could have his baby. Mum sides with him this time, going on this spiel about how if it was rape I wouldn't be so adamant about keeping the baby. Dad stays on my side. I get a lot of abusive messages about the whole situation from mum and sis, and sis' friends who have apparently been told I stole the husband (I'm pretty sure mans is stalking and hurting other women because sis is claiming we're still together because he keeps going out for ages and it's  all cheaty suspicious or something) and mum is accusing me of tearing apart the family by keeping this baby. AITA?

Reflections

 As much as Jacquimo would have liked to have said it was a quiet, peaceful evening, the fact was their bed and board above the Elfsong Tavern was typically anything but. Between the lingering vampire spawn blood housekeeping hadn't been able to get out of the furnishings (for which he claimed to be very sorry) leaving a bit of a smell in the air and a stickiness on the floor that he would rather not think about, and the sounds of the raucous drunks below either enjoying themselves or drowning their sorrows, it made for...quite the atmosphere, to put it lightly. Still, compared to what the half-orc was used to, this was heaven. He'd all but forgotten what it felt like to sleep in a proper bed, and the streets had always been plenty noisy as well.

Sat on his bed, scribbling away in an old notebook, everything else faded out to a strange ambience. This had always been Jacquimo's element. As a bard, he excelled in spinning stories and conveying tales through word, song and poem. Over his years, he'd written and performed many a yarn, ode or sonnet, and some of them were even halfway decent pieces. He'd never had such inspiration like that gifted to him by his most recent journey though. This past week alone he had written so much, the stories and legacies of his new friends, songs on hardship and survival, music he could hear the notes of carried on the wind. One particular piece had been a problem for him, however.

It was a simple poem, words spun like silk to form a painting in your head. An Ode To A Star, he called it, and he had been working on it ever since Astarion told him he could no longer remember his own face. Karlach had suggested someone draw his portrait, but Jacquimo had never been good at that. So he tried to write it. Descriptive art to show his favourite person, the love of his life, exactly how he looked to him.

Let me be your mirror

Let me show you through my eyes

The most beautiful a being

The gods ever did devise

Let me show you every detail

Every wrinkle, every scar

Utter drivel, all of it. Resisting the urge to rip the page out, crumple the paper and throw it aside, Jacquimo cast his gaze to the window, thinking. What could he possibly say to truly convey what he needed to? Words would never be a true substitute for actually being able to see himself. And the wrong words would just cause upset. Mentions of wrinkles, for one, even if they were something Jacquimo liked about his lover. Character. Experience. All part of one damned gorgeous man.

Eyes flitting between the words on the page and the dark night outside, he paused when he caught sight of his own reflection in the glass.

Let me be your mirror.

If only it was that simple. If only he could truly show Astarion exactly what he saw when he looked at him. It wasn't like he could be like the glass in that window. It wasn't like Astarion could really see through his eyes.

Wait.

Except he could, couldn't he?

Jacquimo snapped the notebook shut and looked across the room, at each of his companions. Those who shared the tadpole infection were able to connect their minds together, weren't they? He remembered seeing himself through Lae'zel's eyes on the Nautiloid. Seeing Astarion's memory of watching him walk through the confines of the pod. Giving him his memories of breaking free of his own pod in response. Seeing paths carved through the hells through the eyes of Wyll and Karlach. The tadpole connection allowed them to see through each other's eyes, see thoughts and memories, feel what each other felt.

An idea in his head, the bard placed his notebook back in his pack and got to his feet, making his way over to where Astarion had set up. He clearly heard his lover's approach, as he closed the book he was reading, looking up to meet his eyes. "Always a pleasure to see you sauntering over. Did you need something, my dear?"

"I had a thought. Or an epiphany."

There was a subtle twitch up of the vampire's lips. "Using that brain of yours, are we?"

"I know, I know, a rare novelty. Really, though, I think I might have figured something out. How I can show you your face again."

A nearly imperceptible shift in his eyes. Interest. Curiosity. Hope? "Really now? Well, I have to say, you know how to pique my interest, darling." His voice held no sarcasm, the thought of seeing his face once more undeniably enticing.

"It's rather obvious in hindsight." Jacquimo mused, more to himself, before addressing the elf properly. "I can't promise you'll like it, but it's an option if you want to use it. The tadpoles. They give us that connection, allow us to see each other's memories. You could look into my memories, or perhaps even see through my eyes now. See yourself."

He froze, processing the words. It seemed almost ludicrous, but he was right, everything he said was right. "You would let me into your head, just to see my face? You'd let me just...poke around inside your mind like that? I could find anything in there."

"I would." He didn't even hesitate. "I trust you. I would trust you with my mind any time. And I want to do something for you."

Astarion reached up, ghosting his fingers across the bard's cheek, his voice coming out soft and vulnerable. "You have already done many things for me, you know."

"Then what's one more thing?"

"And you trust me far more than you should. It isn't wise, darling."

"Who ever said I was wise?"

Astarion retracted his hand, glancing around to ensure none of the others were eavesdropping. When he spoke, it was quiet, and completely serious. No teasing, no lighthearted foppery, no sarcasm. "And you're sure about this? About letting me into your head? I...I don't want you feeling you have to do this. You are far too self sacrificing, do far too much for others, I don't want to do this unless you're entirely comfortable with this. This is your mind we're talking about, every inner personal part of you. Just...please tell me you're sure about this."

Jacquimo nodded, confident. "I'm sure. You're only looking at my memories of your face, that's all I'm showing you. I trust you not to go anywhere I don't want you going, and I think I know how to keep people out of things when I need to - I was able to block Z'rell, Minthara and even the Emperor out of certain thoughts, and they were trying to dig into things I didn't want them seeing. I think even with the connection active we can respect each other's privacy just fine, I don't think either of us have been ones to pry. I wouldn't offer this if I wasn't sure. As much as I joke that I am an idiot, I do think things through, you know. For the most part, anyway."

A smile graced those beautiful features. He so wanted to see his face again, to remember that part of himself long forgotten, and it seemed this reward was worth the risk. Jacquimo had a way with words, of making him feel like it would be okay if only he put his faith in him, and it seemed it was time to put his faith in him again. "Then yes, darling. I would like to try it. It's about time I saw how beautiful I really am, after all."

The decision made, the bard gently reached out and took the rogue's hands, eyes meeting and holding each other's gaze as they opened that connection, reaching out with the squirming, wriggling tadpoles within, a power none too pleasant, but this time for a worthwhile cause.

And then there he was, right where he could see himself.

Astarion turned his head this way and that, taking in every inch of his own face as seen through his lover's eyes. Jacquimo let him in, focusing on memories, on that face. On the line of his jaw, the bow of his lips, the curve of his brow. On delicate lashes framing piercing red eyes that could grow so round, almost doe-like under the right circumstances. The laugh lines that made themselves known during moments of joy, the way the edges of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Soft curls framing pointed ears, almost shining when the light hits them just right. And not just the way he looked when happy, but sad as well. When he cried, or knew he'd gone too far, when fear and anxiety took hold. The way anger could peel his lips back in a snarl. Baring fangs in threat. That first meeting, that look of suspicion. Plotting looks, teasing glances, moments of internal conflict. Everything. Every part of him, of who he is, of who he was. Every fine detail. Everything he'd lost and forgotten in all those years of torment. Bringing a hazy, indistinct image into focus, making it clear once more.

Letting himself be the mirror Astarion wanted, needed, for as long as he wanted or needed.

((Jacquimo is my half orc bard urchin Tav, an uneducated disaster bisexual aligned chaotic neutral-chaotic good. Astarion and Jacquimo dialogue was painful to write, I'm so rusty with writing dialogue, hope you enjoy because I am cringing myself inside out lol))

Cedar/Luca ficlet

 Cedar was woken by a gentle shake of his shoulder. At first, he wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, pretend whatever or whoever was there didn't exist. Unfortunately for him, they persisted, and when they saw him begin to stir began to call his name as well. Burying his face further into his pillow regardless, he managed to grunt out something vaguely resembling a 'what do you want?'.

"Wake uuuuuup!" Prue whined in reply, punctuating her words with a slap to his shoulder.

"Go away, I don't feel well."

"You're always sleeping!" Another hit. He turned onto his back and levelled his little sister with as harsh a glare as he could muster while only just shaking off the dregs of sleep. And oh no, now he was waking up, he really didn't feel well. God, he at least hoped he didn't hurl on the kid. "It's boring and spooky here when you're asleep."

"Look, I'm sorry it's spooky, but I'm tired-"

"You're always tired, you have been for weeks."

Cedar took a deep breath. "When you're a little older you're gonna get this same thing every month just like I do and you'll feel so bad about hitting me awake like this." Cramps were a lot less horrible this time, he mused to himself as he spoke. Normally he chalked up the constant feeling of about to puke to how much pain he was in, but here he was, not that bothered by the stupid light cramps and still feeling sick as a dog. Perhaps it was a sign his body was finally closing down the factory in response to his ongoing terrible health. Not that he was going to miss that particular function.

Prudence huffed and for a moment he thought she was going to leave him be. Then she poked him in the cheek. Hard. "Are we getting lunch today?"

He gave a noncommittal grunt, more in response to his own twisting stomach than to her. She seemed to take it as an affirmative though, because she ran off to tell Gannon just as much. Which in turn meant he would eventually have to get up and find some food for them. He'd already spent all of his last paycheck, so that was a no go. Turns out tutoring one superhero, who Cedar frankly suspected was also homeless, in hand to hand doesn't get you very far. He wondered if they could just turn up at the watch tower Luca worked at uninvited and get a free meal. The other options were theft or dumpster diving, neither of which he felt up to right now.

Well, if nothing else, he hadn't seen his boyfriend in a few weeks anyway. He worked hard at keeping his life as Cedar and his life as The Censor separate, and The Censor was the one bringing in money for the family. Luca was a doctor for a superhero team as well, and more often than not had his hands full. Often times their different, uh, careers, kept them a bit more separate than they'd have liked. With a sigh, he rolled over again, reaching for a change of clothes, close enough to clean to work.

-----

He had, at the very least, apologised for turning up unannounced to, essentially, beg and mooch, but otherwise greeted Luca with a smile and a hug, pretending he wasn't feeling off kilter. He was quickly introduced to the newest resident of the tower, baby Ray. He remembered the team leader had been heavily pregnant when he'd last seen her, and the newborn she held now was adorable. Strange, with the blue skin and the beige glow that admittedly only he could see, but adorable nonetheless.

As tired as he was caring for his own siblings, Cedar had always been fond of children.

According to the baby's father, who definitely wasn't human, the rest of the team were elsewhere. Some doing hero work, one of them on a date apparently, and until he'd brought his hyperactive siblings in, the tower had been quite peaceful.

In time, they'd settled in the living room. Whisper had taken requests for lunch and was stood by the kitchenette in the corner with the children on bar stools at the table. Gannon had taken to spinning around repeatedly. Cedar had already resolved in his head that he was not cleaning it up when he inevitably puked. He and his boyfriend were curled up on one end of the sofa, while the non human hero, Shadow Weaver or Tarquin, sat on the other end with his son.

"You're not eating?" Luca asked after a moment. Cedar offered a soft shrug in response.

"Not right now. Don't feel hungry. It's just...you know..." Another shrug. "Cramps." Again, they weren't really the problem this time around, but it was the easiest way to convey the message.

"Okay. You should still eat something though."

"I know. I will. Later." He tried for a reassuring smile, then reached for the remote. "Can I turn on the sports channel?"

Luca spared a glance to the baby in the room before nodding. "Keep the volume low though."

"Bet." He found the channel he wanted and cuddled in closer. It had been a while since he'd been able to relax and watch some good sports. Back before he'd become The Censor, athletics had been his world, and he had been a prodigy. It was good to go back to that and feel a little more...normal, sometimes. Admittedly, it was a golfing show on at the moment, so not really his thing, he'd always been a boxer. Still, there, held in a gentle embrace with the TV playing and the occasional words between the two, he felt safe and content. And drowsy. It wasn't long at all before he started drifting off again.

Then the chill went down his spine and he didn't feel comfortable any more. A quick glance behind him confirmed his strange feeling, and he felt Luca tighten his grip around him.

"You okay?"

"...Your weird friend has been staring at me since I got here." He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the third man on the sofa, who had the decency to look embarrassed at being caught, but still continued to stare.

Luca raised an eyebrow in question, meeting those eyes himself. Tarquin chewed his own lip for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain himself, before simply giving one word and walking off. 'Fluttering'.

Cedar, ever confused by this, turned back to Luca. "What the f-...udge does that mean?"

Not the easiest thing to explain, but he'd give it a go. "Shadow Weaver has sensory powers, like you do. His are...he can sense life. He told me once that most life feels like a consistent pulse, like a heartbeat, but he can't really tell the difference between different beats. With one exception. Some things aren't a proper pulse, but instead just feel like a weak fluttering sensation. Usually parasites or, um, foetuses."

"So your friend is saying I'm either pregnant or have a tapeworm?"

Luca gave a slight laugh at that. "Something like that."

"I don't think either of those apply to me right now." Cedar replied dryly.

"You sure? He's not normally wrong."

"Well I-...uh..." Well, lately he had felt sick, and tired, and sore, and hadn't wanted to eat anything...and if this had been down to monthlies, it was pretty damn late, and putting on his binder that morning he was sure his chest was bigger and more sensitive..."Fuck, I might be pregnant." He quickly looked back to check the others weren't paying them any attention before pulling away a little and sitting up straighter, a silent permission for Luca to use his powers, check there wasn't anything more sinister.

"You're pregnant." He confirmed after a moment, reaching for his boyfriend's hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Fuck." Cedar echoed quietly, pulling away. "I can't have a baby...not as a broke ass bitch in a squat filled with drug addicts, anyway."

"You could always move here-"

"I don't-! I don't want to bring the full force of the Rainbow Brigade or whoever else back here, and I don't want to be a burden or-"

"You're not a burden. You're my boyfriend, and you and your siblings? You're my family, and you're our family, and we'd all be happy to have you here."

'Not if you knew who else I was', Cedar thought but didn't dare say. He must have been quiet a little too long, because Luca chose to fill the silence.

"If you...don't want to have the baby, or really can't-"

"I want the baby!" His voice came in a frantic squeak which really made him mad at himself. Cedar shook his head and took a deep breath. He was aware of more eyes on him, which he really didn't like. "No...no, what I mean is...I like kids, you know I like kids, but I'm struggling enough with just my siblings. When I was little, I really, really wanted to someday have a kid of my own, y'know? I remember thinking I'd be fine carrying a baby even...even if dysphoria kicked my ass. But, uh, after a lifetime of no friends, then no home, I just sort of thought babies were gonna be things that happened to other people, and I'd get my full parenthood experience just being the big brother. And I was okay with that. You manage with the cards you're dealt. I mean, I also wanted to become an Olympic boxer and that's not ever happening." He smiled and shrugged. "Do you want a baby?"

Luca hesitated, but answered with a nod. "I'm...nowhere near as good with kids as you are, and that's a fact, and it's hard to imagine myself as a father, but I...I would like that. I know what you mean, about a lifetime of loneliness, about feeling like you can't get what you really want and always feeling like you have to settle. There was a lot I accepted as just my life, no getting around it, and it's hard to change that way of thinking, to tell yourself good things can happen and to let them happen."

"I want good things to happen to you. No, scratch that, you deserve good things to happen to you." He glanced back at the others, who tried to look like they hadn't been watching and listening since the squeak-yell, and dropped his voice to a gentle whisper. "You are the best person I've ever met. You're so genuinely nice it's sometimes hard to believe you're real, like that nice, and that smart, and that good looking, and right here and now? It's perfect, and you don't deserve anything bad."

Luca took a moment to reply, feeling emotion swell in his chest. "You flatterer."

"I mean it."

"I know. I love you." He gave Cedar a quick peck on the cheek.

"Love you too. But I'm going somewhere with this. Like...you have good things in your life, right?"

He pretended to think about it, then counted off on his fingers. "There's you, your siblings, my friends, this tower, the food Hex and Shard make, because that really is amazing, that cool shirt with the frogs on it...I have good things."

"And would an unexpected baby right now be a good thing?"

"...If it makes you happy, absolutely."

"Sap." Cedar snorted, taking one of Luca's hands and giving it a squeeze. "Look, I'll be happy as long as we can be safe. Which means not at the squat hole."

"You realise you're always safe here, right? Safer than anywhere else."

"Luca, the last two times I stayed here overnight, y'all got attacked by members of the Rainbow Brigade."

"We've...updated security and done some research on them. We know all Greenfield and Ballad's powers, and the others appear to be either deceased or inactive. If something does happen, I mean, this team stopped a demon taking over and burning the entire planet, they can handle those guys."

"An actual demon?"

"Yup."

"Wow. Wish I'd seen that."

Luca laughed. "So do I. That was before I joined up with them. I've heard a lot of stories and I'm assured they're all true."

"You have to tell me those stories."

"Oh, I will, that's a promise." He gave Cedar's hand a reassuring squeeze. "The long and short of it, though, is we can keep you safe here. I promise that, too."

"So...are we having a baby?"

Luca raised an eyebrow, watching Cedar expectantly. Cedar answered with a sigh.

"Let me guess, it's up to me because I'm the pregnant one?"

"Duh."

Like a very mature adult, Cedar stuck his tongue out. When he next spoke, it was with a decisive finality. "We're having a baby."

With the matter decided, he wrapped himself around Luca in a warm hug. He hugged back and the two stayed that way for a while, talking quietly as the world moved around them. They stayed like this until Cedar dozed off, head on Luca's shoulder. When he awoke it would be to the feeling of fingers running through his hair, the smell of something baking, the soft voices of people speaking low so as not to wake him. Sensations which would remind him of his old home, with his mother and stepfather, where he had been safe and very much loved. For once, though, this thought wouldn't make him sad, because now he had a new home. A home with Luca and his friends, and in less than a year, their baby as well. A home where he was safe, and very much loved.

((Whisper and the kids when Cedar shouts about wanting a baby: ??????
Tarquin: Oh yeah I think Luca got his boyfriend pregnant somehow.
Whisper: Aight...))

Interrogation

"So...where do you want me to start?"

Cedar sat in a small room, the kind that tv detectives conducted all their interviews out of. Opposite him sat the team leader, straight backed and attempting to look formal. His stance was far more relaxed by comparison.

Whisper offered a small smile before shuffling through some paperwork. "How about from the beginning?" She offered. "What happened, what you saw and why you got involved?"

"Your friends were walking like zombies, all blank and purposeless, y'know? It felt off. Wrong. I had headphones in, so I didn't hear the singing at first. I sort of followed from a distance until I saw him, the big guy. Then I got my ass kicked and woke up here."

"And broke that hypnosis."

"And did that, yeah. It's easy when you know how his powers work."

Whisper raised an eyebrow. It looked perfectly plucked to him. "And how do his powers work? Who is he?"

He hesitated, thinking about how to best answer that. He was more than willing to give out as much information on the criminal locked in the team's cells as he could, but needed to avoid incriminating or leading back to himself. Finally, he decided to start with "have you ever heard of The Rainbow Brigade?"

The team leader shook her head.

"That's fair. They disbanded before I was born, and most likely before you were, unless you're way older than you look. They were a group of wannabe vigilante heroes in Alabama, only...they weren't very good. Like, they had power and they could work together and figure out how to use that power, but they weren't good people, and their version of justice was...sick. If you go to the right part of the state, you can hear a lot about what they did. They all wore colour coded uniforms, hence the rainbow name, and the green one turned out to be a serial killer or something. The guy in your holding cells right now? His name is Storm Sullivan, used to go by Ballad. He sings. When he sings, he can make you do whatever he wants. He wants you to ride a unicycle while juggling pies? That song makes you do it. It doesn't have to be a specific song, he just has to sing with a command in mind."

Cedar wondered if this was how it felt to give testimony in court.

"And how do you stop it?" Whisper asked, hand poised to write down the secret.

"Simple. You disrupt the song. It doesn't matter how, but if you stop him singing, or you drown him out with a louder sound, or plug your ears, you're golden. He can't hypnotise you if you can't hear him."

"Hence why the headphones kept you safe." Something didn't quite fit with the story given by Hex and Crayon before, however. "But...how did you disrupt the song? My team didn't even know you were there until...Sullivan attacked you."

"Loud noise." He answered quickly. "I don't think people under his control properly remember it."

"I see...do you by any chance know why he was after us, or you?"

"What makes you think he was after me?"

"My team said he went right past them and attacked you. I doubt it was just because you 'made a loud noise'."

That made sense. "He knows about my sensory powers. He...wants to use his powers to use my powers to somehow make himself popular or a hero again. I don't really get it, I don't know what specifically he wants to do, but...yeah. I think...he was...I don't know if he wanted your team for their powers or just to lure me out or what...I, I, I just know he wants attention, and lots of it, positive attention for all the wrong reasons." This seemed safe to say. It didn't give the full details of how they were related, but it still wasn't a lie.

Whisper nodded, tapped her finger nervously against the table. Something was still bugging her. "Last question, Cee, then you can go back to the infirmary. This Rainbow Brigade, I know you said they'd disbanded, but is there any chance Sullivan is still in touch with them?"

"Like...you're worried they might come after me, or you?"

"It's a possibility."

Cedar tilted his head back as he tried to think, tried to remember any evidence of his father still talking to his old friends. "Well...three of them died, but he might...I don't know either way."

"Can you tell me anything about the rest of them?"

"Greenfield was very well known serial killer, but they never found out his real identity." At the mention of Greenfield, Whisper's expression hardened. "You know him?"

"Not personally, but I know someone directly affected by his murders."

"Sorry. I, uh, don't know much about his powers-"

"I know someone who will, don't worry too much about it."

"Kay, but, uh, if he knows about my powers, I think he'd be interested."

"I'll bear that in mind. Thank you for your time, Cee. You can go relax now."

With a slight nod, he stiffly got to his feet, wincing slightly, still sore. The girl gave him a slightly sympathetic look. As he straightened fully, a loud bang rocked the tower, the shockwave almost sending him off his feet. Both of them gripped the table for stability and exchanged equally worried looks. Cedar spoke first.

"That's, uh, not a good sound, is it?"

"It absolutely is not."

Siren Song

 The voice carried over the summer breeze was irresistible, the most enticing song they had ever heard, and they obediently marched towards it hand in hand, drawn ever closer to the source. This was Storm's power, the power to make anyone who heard his voice do his bidding. He could control vast numbers of people at once if he so desired, but tonight...tonight he only needed the child.

His real target was a teenage boy by the name of Cedar, someone he'd been trying to manipulate for years in the hopes of regaining his old glory, but Cedar was slippery, and had the right powers to allow him to resist the siren's call. So Storm had a new plan. Rather than go directly for Cedar, he would be taking hostages, most of them young. He knew the boy wasn't the type of person who could sit by quietly while children suffered, if only because he would worry about the safety of his own younger siblings. Sooner or later, his true target would come out of the woodwork. After all, the other young 'heroes' really nothing more than kids playing dress up, didn't know diddly squat about the powerful man spreading his power.

Cedar himself had watched the dazed pair walking down the dark alley. He had headphones on, music up loud, purposely blocking out the song he knew was there, the song that broke through between the songs on his phone. He had a backpack, both straps broken, clutched in his hand, filled with what you could call that night's grocery shopping. The little girl, he guessed she was about eight or ten, seemed perfectly normal. Brown hair, purple dress, some crayons stuffed in what he figured was a bum bag around her waist. The teenage boy was clearly a super. A mutant or metahuman. Silver skin, long, purple hair, athletic build, and a faint glow around him that Cedar saw cover every superhuman. A glow that apparently no-one else really saw. If he wasn't hypnotised, Cedar guessed the boy could have taken care of things himself, but as things were he would need rescuing.

When the two drew close enough to see Storm's face, for him to reach out to grab them, two sharp claps rang out across the alleyway, and suddenly the voice was no longer as beautiful or hypnotising. The two victims blinked in confusion as the hold over their minds faded away. He grabbed for the child, but both of them reared back, the teenager throwing an arm out in front of her protectively. He threw his other hand out in front, towards their attacker, and looked horrified when nothing happened. It wasn't just Storm's powers that clap had stopped, it was the teenager's as well. "Stay back!" He warned the man. It didn't sound very threatening with his slight stutter and overly polite sounding British accent. Storm sprinted forward, and the teenager pushed the child fully behind him and threw his arms up to shield his face.

Storm went right past them and swung for a fourth figure half-crouched behind a dumpster. With a yelp, Cedar threw his bag out to catch the punch and scrambled out of the way. While Cedar was strong, and experienced in fair and controlled fights, the kind you might experience in professional sporting circles, this was unlikely to be the same. The man was well over six feet tall, muscular and, well, a grown adult, which against the nervous 16 year old was a definite advantage.
"I was wondering when you'd show yourself." The man mused, looming over the child who shifted to a battle ready position. Kickboxing stance, he figured from the looks of it. Storm aimed high, hoping to get the kid to duck low, manipulate his balance. Cedar's stance, however, seemed very solid. His fight classes had clearly done him well. He couldn't evade forever though.

Every other hit Cedar got in was blocked, and every other block he attempted was broken through with ease. Storm's speed was greater than his own, and even without his powers to aid him he was confident, striking hard, fast and sure. One particular hit to Cedar's ribs generated an unpleasant crack and grating sound, and had him falling to his knees. Still, he didn't let up. Once he had the boy down, he continued to strike, showing no mercy as he curled up to protect himself. In the background, through his shield of his own limbs, Cedar saw the girl. The teenage boy was gone, and she was crouched down, drawing something on the grotty ground with her crayons. He wondered why she hadn't run, until he saw her give some kind of hand signal. That was when he saw her lift the item she had drawn from the ground itself, and heard a battle cry from the teenager. And suddenly, Storm was no longer attacking him, but fighting off a weak assault from the other teen. He was holding something he must have dug out from one of the dumpsters. Cedar passed out before he could see the girl use the taser she'd drawn to take the villain down.

When Hex and Crayon were sure the villain wasn't getting up again, they hurried over to the fallen teenager, rolling him onto his back to take a look at his injuries. Definitely a broken bone or two, and his left shoulder had dislocated. Lots of cuts and bruises. Hex opened his communicator, ready to call for backup and transport. He didn't know his powers had returned the moment the boy had lost consciousness, and didn't know if the boy was the cause or if the man was, but if it was the boy it looked like he'd done something in order to save them. Knowing, however, that this boy had just been involved in a fight with a definite super, and could have been a super himself, he thought maybe it would be safer to have Luca look at him before sending him to a normal hospital.

((Fun fact, because Crayon's powers are entirely down to the crayons she possesses, Cedar's power-nullifying ability doesn't work on her. He can't stop inanimate objects from being powerful, and also won't be able to register Crayon as a super. Non-human supers, like Shadow Weaver/Tarquin Soul also wouldn't have the super glow he sees around them either. For those who don't know, Cedar, also known as The Censor, can cancel out powers by clapping twice. If he claps again, gets too far away, enough time passes or he loses consciousness, the effect ends. Crayon belongs to my friend.))

The Demon's Rage

When the demon Duiwel sent us off, the words he said stuck in my head for days after. Words that were both a command and a warning. He sent us off, promising whoever found the artefact that would return all his stolen powers to him even before he had fully recovered from his imprisonment would survive alongside their families. He told us not to return until we had found it, or our families would pay the price. He told us we had until he'd recovered what strength had not been sealed separately, which would most likely be towards the end of December, the year Mudiwa, Nyah and I turned 21.

So the clock was ticking. We were scattered, still with parts of the broken shrine in hand. My skin had paled and flaked, became as sand, and as I travelled and searched, I became acquainted with my new body, and in turn with my new abilities.

That was when I made a dire mistake.

Duiwel had called himself weak, or weakened, and I'd remembered that the most. If he was weak, and he'd gifted some of his powers to the four of us, then maybe there was a chance to save our families, the very ones he held hostage.

Thinking back on it all, I wasn't thinking straight. I missed my family. My mother, my sisters...I was the only male left in our family, the only one fully educated, the best my rather small family had for support. I was the man of the house, and suddenly I had disappeared without a trace. The idea that they were worrying about me, the idea that they might be afraid, or suffering in any way, it was unbearable. It kept me up at nights.

So I returned to our little rural village. I returned with a plan. I would find my sisters, my mother, my family, help them escape the village, escape the demon's reach, and then face him myself. I had no idea where he had sent the other three, but he had given me his powers, powers that could send anyone to sleep, and even before these powers were mine I was a strong guy. A big guy.

I genuinely, stupidly thought I had a chance.

I didn't even make it to my family.

The demon headed me off by one of the fields, one I'd cut across many times as a child between school and my home, and I had raised my fists, ready to fight. Anything for my family. Anything for my friends.

~

As the sun rose over the village, recently rocked by the sudden unexplained disappearance of four teenagers, a strange sound called the villagers out to the field, gouged deep overnight. There stood the fearsome creature known as Duiwel, and in his claws was me. I was injured, faint, held upright only by his grip on my hair, and when everyone was gathered, he spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen. As you know, young Boipelo Hassan and his friends went missing just last month. The good news is, though you may not recognise him straight away, I have young Boipelo right here! The bad news here is, well...he and I had a deal. I would keep you all alive and completely unharmed provided he went and got something of mine before coming back here. He, unfortunately, did not keep his end of the deal, so now I see no reason why I should." With his other hand, he beckoned to the frightened crowd. "I think I shall start with his family, then move to the loving families of his young friends. What are their names, boy?"

Instead of answering, I spat, and he yanked my head back hard.

"No matter. It's these four lovely ladies here, correct?"

He brought them forward, though I don't know how, and paraded me before them. Let them see the injuries I'd sustained fighting him. And true to his word, he destroyed them.

It was a massacre. People ran and screamed, tried to escape the moment he began to tear into and torture the first victim, my own mother. Each and every one of them was caught, even as the previous victim's screams still pierced the air. Through it all, he kept my eyes open, made me watch every single one, each and every kill.

It was my fault. I wanted to hang out by the old shrine, I started playing rough, and I went back despite the warnings and caused all of those deaths. At the end of it all, I was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by swathes of blood and chunks of what had once been people. My people.

Alcohol And Idiots Do Not Mix

 Kuroko didn't quite recall how he'd ended up in a hotel. By the looks of it, what little he could see beyond the sun shield that was his own arm, it was a fairly nice hotel. He remembered somewhere in the back of his mind Akashi insisting they call it a night because someone had done something stupid and one of Aomine's friends was about three seconds away from being arrested, and he remembered falling over and someone picking him up bridal style...he must have passed out or fallen asleep after that, though he wasn't sure if, in the end, the others had listened to an ever so slightly drunk Akashi's suggestion. Evidently, he at least had managed to make it somewhere with a bed.

Slowly, Kuroko managed to move his arm away from his eyes and get his other arm underneath him, trying to use it to lever himself up into a seated position. There wasn't anyone else in the room, which really was a nice room. He was alone, as far as he could see, and surprisingly hungover for someone who went into a celebration or a night out or whatever you might call it with the decision to not get blind drunk and fall over on level ground and have to be carried back to a hotel by his boyfriend.

He managed not to groan as he attempted to swing his legs off the bed, got them caught up in the duvet and spent the next minute and a half with his eyes squeezed shut trying to kick his legs free before he could finally put his feet, still clad in muddy shoes for some reason or another, on the floor, only to find he wasn't alone in the room, someone was sleeping next to the bed, and trying to step on them sent him sprawling forward onto the carpet. He decided to lay there for a good few minutes, face down on the floor. It wasn't like anyone would care. He didn't even get up when he heard a shriek from down the hall. He heard footsteps outside the door, supposedly someone rushing off to the rescue, and felt something move against his own feet. Kagami groaned as he woke up and rolled onto his side, curling into a ball.

"What happened last night?" He moaned. "Why does my tongue taste of cardboard and dirt?"

"Aomine-kun's stag night." Came a mumbled response, spoken into the tickly carpet.

"Kuroko?"

"Yes?"

From down the hall, they both heard a shout of 'Oh God, what the hell is that doing in here?' and both looked to the door. Slowly, far slower than Kuroko had been before, Kagami got to his feet, question or request completely forgotten. He was barefoot, inching towards the door like a zombie. It was almost funny. After a moment, Kuroko decided to join him, both arriving at the door just in time to see a sheep rush past down the hall, being chased by three of Aomine's friends. Wakamatsu, Sakurai and one of Aomine's university friends, or maybe work friends (Kuroko couldn't remember his name, but he remembered he smelled funny, and he could still smell him now over the stench of sheep) appeared to be trying to corral the poor creature towards the lifts and stairwells, each displaying various degrees of panic upon their faces.

Kagami stared at the scene for about a minute before running a hand over his face with a groan. "I'm going back to bed." He announced before turning back and slamming the door, leaving Kuroko locked outside his hotel room.

"Ah, Kagami-kun..." He turned and tried to open the door, but gave up quickly. There was no response to him knocking, either. As if the big idiot had already fallen asleep.

He honestly wasn't quite sure how long he stood there, zoned out and wishing he could function or that he had water before the door opposite opened and someone called out to him. A man with a camera around his neck  and an excited smile  on his face. Clearly not hungover. In fact, every word he said was so loud Kuroko thought his head might split in two.

"Hey!" He called. "Oh my god, hey, come here, come here! You gotta see this! The really really big guy and the naggy redhead are in bed together!"

With that, he disappeared into the room he'd just opened, and Kuroko stared after him for a moment. The big guy and the nagging redhead? Murasakibara and Akashi maybe? After all, that fit the biggest guy and the only redhead Kuroko hadn't already seen. Well...that was interesting, certainly, but what really enticed him into that room was  that, through the open door, he could see a table with bottled water on it, which he went straight to before anything else.

Okay, so it turned out Murasakibara and Akashi really were in bed together. Fully clothed, fast asleep, clearly with nothing going on, but at some point in the night the former had evidently decided he needed a collection of teddy bears. That collection was mostly formed of hotel pillows, a table lamp, and Akashi's sleeping form. Additionally, there was a third man in the bed between the two, but between their legs and completely hidden by the covers, a fourth man could be heard vomiting in the en suite bathroom, and Imayoshi was asleep in an armchair, though his glasses appeared to have slipped off his face and onto his shoe at some point during the night. The man that had called Kuroko in, another one he didn't quite remember the name of but who was definitely the guy who almost got arrested, was taking photos of the carnage. Kuroko briefly wondered if he'd photographed the sheep fiasco at all. It certainly seemed like something worth making a memory of.

The wannabe photographer moved off towards the bathroom, calling for Aomine as he went. Honestly, with the amount he'd been drinking the night before, Kuroko wasn't surprised that Aomine was vomiting. He was pretty sure the poor idiot had been vomiting at the club as well. A movement caught the shadow's eye and he found himself looking back to the bed as the man asleep by the miracles' legs began to wake, moving up until his head was resting on part of Murasakibara's pillow collection, just under the lamp.

Midorima. Fully clothed, by the looks of things, just like the other two, glasses and all. For all of two seconds, he lay there, reluctant to open his eyes, as though he knew the world beyond his eyelids would not be kind to him, but when Murasakibara heaved a great sigh into his face, still mid-dream himself, Midorima found himself needing to open his eyes to see who was that close to his face.

It might have been the snap realisation of who he was sharing a bed with, or it might have just been that their faces were almost touching and that in itself was a shock, but the moment those green eyes opened, their owner bellowed out an almighty shriek and pulled back, colliding with the blissfully asleep Akashi and bringing them both off the bed, along with the duvet that had been covering the three former miracles. A scream in his face was enough to wake Murasakibara up, and he shot upright with a yelp, clutching his precious lamp to his chest as he watched the scene with wide eyes before making a vague, noncommittal sound and flopping back down into his pillow hoard. At the same time, the two men in the bathroom came running into the main bedroom, clearly alerted by the scream and apparently not vomiting. Kise and the photographer.

"What's going on?" Photographer yelled. "We heard screaming, and not good screaming!"

There was no answer for a moment, just a lot of cursing as Midorima and Akashi tried to get themselves untangled from each other and the bedclothes, and Kise leaned over to whisper in Kuroko's ear.

"What are Midorimacchi and Akashicchi doing?"

"Bonding." Kuroko replied with a slight shrug.

"Oh." Kise's breath reeked of vomit.

It was Akashi who managed to disentangle himself first, crawling away from the duvet and the other man, eyes screwed shut in what may have been pain. He crawled headfirst into the wicker chair Imayoshi slept in and groaned, collapsing sideways to the floor and laying there stock still. Imayoshi jerked awake with an unattractive snort and peered blearily around the room.

"Where am I? Oh god, my head..." His eyes shut again and he clumsily massaged his temples.

"My hotel room." Akashi responded irritably, eyes snapping open again. "Why are you all in my room?"

"Look, man, I don't even know who you are. I just know my head hurts..."

"Atsushi, get out of my bed."

"But I'm so comfy..."

Midorima managed to get free from the duvet he'd managed to wrap around himself like a cocoon and limped to the bathroom, almost tripping over Akashi as he went. Akashi, in turn, sat up and drew his legs to his chest to prevent anyone else tripping over him. Wakamatsu peeked  into the room through the door Kuroko had left wide open.

"Uh...is everything okay in here?" Silence and staring. "Is Aomine in here?" More silence, but this time Kise shook his head.

"He isn't in the bathroom?" Kuroko asked.

"No." Photographer answered. "It was only blondie here in there."

"Kise."

"Gesundheit."

Sakurai and Aomine's other university friend were behind Wakamatsu, seemingly trying to look into the room over the blond's shoulders. "Imayoshi-san looks like he's going to throw up." The former muttered, mostly to himself. "Throw up or die."

Looking back to the man in question, Kuroko had to agree he did look rather ill. His face was an impressive shade of grey, and rather sweaty, and he'd been gradually leaning over to one side since he'd last spoken, like  his spine had simply given up on keeping him upright. Perhaps it was still drunk.

"Yeah, Imayoshi, we don't need to call an ambulance for you or something, do we?" Wakamatsu asked with obvious concern that may have bordered on full on fear for the other man's life. Imayoshi took about five minutes to realise he was being addressed, by which point Midorima had emerged from the bathroom, having attempted to comb his hair and wash his face at the least, and the others had decided it might be worthwhile calling an ambulance after all because the grey-faced idiot just wasn't responding, and then

"Oh, I'm Imayoshi...am I Imayoshi?" He ran a hand up his face and through his hair as he spoke.

"Uh...yeah?"

"Oh...I don't need an  ambulance...I'm good...I could do with throwing up though..." He then scowled. "Imayoshi? Really?"

Akashi decided that was as good a time as any to try and get to his feet, handing the confused Imayoshi his glasses back in the process. Imayoshi seemed to have no idea what he was supposed to do with them. "So is Aomine not in his room?"

"He's...not anywhere..." Replied an equally stunned and confused Wakamatsu. "Nowhere we've looked, anyway..."

The redhead thought for a moment, trying to cast his mind back. "Did...did he even make it to the hotel with us?"

Kise shook his head again. "Didn't...did he even leave the club with us?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I don't  know, but...I think we left him behind..."

"Just call him." Midorima told them. "He probably hasn't gone far anyway." He limped past the wicker chair to pick up the tangled mess of bedclothes and pillows, as he was the one that  had knocked them all to the floor, and dumped them on the bed. Imayoshi caught sight of his reflection in the window.

"Oh god!" He exclaimed. "Who's that ugly motherfucker?"

"You." Akashi told him.

"No, the one with the glasses. The ugly one with the weird eyes."

"You." He repeated.

"Oh god."

"Shintaro."

"What?" He asked, barely offering the redhead a glance.

"...Have you done something to your leg?"

He glanced down to the offending limb. "I guess so." He shifted his lower leg experimentally. "It aches..."

"Roll your pant leg up."

He did so, rolling it up to his knee and craning his head back to try and see.

On his lower leg, a large, white, square bandage had been stuck to his skin. Akashi knelt down to take a look at Midorima's calf, gripping the edge of the bandage and tearing it off.

"What is that?" The green-haired man asked, looking at the strange mark revealed. He'd been expecting a stitched injury, perhaps. Something that signified he'd fallen and hurt himself while intoxicated. Instead, he could see something green and sore-looking as he tried to twist his leg to see better.

"It's a tattoo." Akashi answered.

"What?!"

"A tattoo." He repeated as Kuroko came to crouch beside him and get a better look.

"A tattoo of what? What is it?"

"A caterpillar."

"A cutesy caterpillar." Kuroko added.

"Wearing a little pink bow." Akashi confirmed.

"Have you got any others?"

"No!" Midorima yelped before patting himself down experimentally. "At least...I hope not." Surely he would know if he had any other tattoos, right? The one on his leg hurt, after all. And he didn't remember getting any other tattoos. Then again, he didn't remember getting the caterpillar either. "I need a mirror."

At that moment, Kagami came bursting through the door. "I heard screaming!"

"That was ages ago, Kagami-kun. You've missed all the fun."

"Is...is everyone else in here?" He asked, looking around curiously, and then "Is that a tattoo?"

Midorima dropped his trouser leg and rubbed a hand over his face. "I can never wear shorts again..."

"Aomine's missing." Kuroko corrected his light. "Have you seen him?"

"No. Have you tried calling him?"

"No, but we were going to."

Akashi dipped into his pockets before frowning. "My phone isn't there..." He muttered, checking another pocket before looking at the bed. "Did it fall out?"

"I don't have mine either!" Photographer yelped, looking mortified.

"I'm sorry, but mine's gone too!" Sakurai cried  next as most of the others began to search their pockets for their phones. Midorima, Kuroko, Kagami and Aomine's other university friend still had  theirs, and Imayoshi managed to find his in his back pocket.

"I have a phone." He slurred. "I've got a text." He took a few minutes to read the text, frowned, read it again and then gasped. "Guys, I have a sister."

Completely ignoring him, Kuroko found Aomine in his contacts (it wasn't a long search) and called him.

A cheerful tune filled the room, prompting everyone to turn to the source, which was one of the pockets of Murasakibara's trousers. After a moment, the purple-haired giant dug the ringing phone out of his pocket, stared at  it as  he considered whether or not to answer  it, and then said "This isn't my phone."

"It's Aomine's." Kuroko agreed as the phone rang out.

"Why do I have phones?" He asked, reaching into each of his pockets and pulling out more and more devices, laying each one on the bed beside him. Kise's, Akashi's, Sakurai's, Wakamatsu's, the photographer's, his own, of course, and an additional and expensive looking phone that nobody claimed as their own. Akashi's phone was decorated with an unpleasant looking crack across both the screen and the back. Murasakibara insisted he had no idea how it happened.

"We'll have to go looking for  him." Kuroko mused.

There was a general murmur of agreement. After all, this was a strange, unfamiliar place. They couldn't just leave the poor idiot to fend for himself. He'd probably end up being eaten by badgers the next town over. If  he didn't just wander around in circles until he dropped.

As everyone else began to get up and set out, Imayoshi lurched forward in his seat and began to vomit profusely over the carpet.

((So I actually wrote this a long time ago and posted it only to my tumblr because technically this was an unfinished version. I was also going to write flashbacks to the night itself and them actually looking for Aomine, but I never went back to finish it, and I wanted to share these parts when I finished them. Also introducing Yuri (the smelly guy) and Mitsuki (the photography student), who are not mentioned by name, but exist because I'm pretty sure Aomine would have friends he made between leaving school and getting married.))