eight where the vile things are

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       THIS IS A HERO'S STORY, or at least she supposes it is, when she returns from hell ten minutes later, and finds herself sitting in Central Park again. She only missed that one night, thankfully, and she prays this demonic energy of hers is enough to get her through the school day. She books it back to her apartment, where Marie is waiting for her, and Izzy quickly explains the situation. Then she texts Peter and does the same. Then, she gets ready for school; she showers, she does her hair, she puts on some makeup, and she gets changed into her uniform. Catholic school chic. Serena van der Woodson would make this hot. Maybe Izzy has... Anyways.

       Elijah's back in town, she finds out, when she walks into the kitchen and he's there, getting their chef to cook him breakfast. Isabelle frowns at him when he looks up — she loves her brother, sure, but why is he back? Shouldn't he be, like, at college? When does Harvard even go back? It must be now, right? Why is he here?

       "Dropped out?" says Izzy, sitting next to him. Cerberus appears, out of nowhere, and sits on the barstool next to her. Thankfully the chef doesn't notice.

       Her brother rolls his eyes. "No," he says. "Dad said I had to come back."

       "Ah." Isabelle frowns. "That still makes, like, no sense."

       "He's doing some campaign stuff around the city, and wanted me to be around," he explains to her. She looks across at him, and notices the stubble on his face. By Christmas he'll have a beard. Gross. "And you have just gotten back from hell, so."

       The chef raises an eyebrow. Elijah smiles. "I mean rehab."

       "Uh—!"

       "Charlotte's in town, too," says Elijah, a little less confidently, as if that makes any more sense. Like Elijah would make plans to see friends. (She means this lovingly.) "Well, what? I haven't seen her since we graduated."

       And then, her dad's voice rings through the apartment: "Isabelle!"

       It's as if the whole place skids to a halt. Like the apartment knows his importance, and is like, oh, look! He's back! Wowee! He's dressed to the nines in a blue suit, and Izzy can make out the Gucci socks and pocket square. Honestly, she hadn't realised how much she had missed him, as she gets to her feet, to hug him. She smiles softly.

       "How was your trip, then?" says Alexander Oswald.

       Elijah snorts. "Call it what it is, Dad. Rehab."

       "Stop saying Isabelle went to rehab," says Alexander. He rolls his eyes, and he starts to say Jesus, but he gets to the e and starts coughing. She remembers seeing his soul in hell. That's all because of her. "I bet Paris was great." Her dad then winks at her, before turning to their chef. "Hey, ah, thank you so much, but you can head out now, if you'd like. Gotta talk about classified stuff here, you see."

       This is why Isabelle loves her dad, truly. Because sure, he might be president come January, but, at least he isn't... Well. She was gonna say soulless, but she knows he is... Look, what she means to say is, he doesn't act like a politician.

       "So," says Alexander. Izzy sits back down, as she grabs the box of Lucky Charms. Normally when it's her and Marie at home, they don't hire a chef or anything — if anything it makes things easier, talking about everything. Plus, could you imagine, working on some ratatouille and overhearing the princess of Belgium argue with Captain America? Exactly. Too weird. "The campaign."

       Marie appears, and leans against the kitchen counter.

       "Surely you're gonna win?" says Izzy. "Since you sold your—"

       "You never know," says her dad.

       Izzy frowns. "Well, unless Trump's using angels—?"

       Marie's jaw drops. "You can say angel?"

       "Oh, yeah, I fought one last night," says Izzy. "I've unlocked angel now."

       Her dad pauses for a minute, not knowing what to say. But, before he can talk, Elijah starts to laugh.

       "That's sick," he says. "What happened?"

       "I mean, it was a little pathetic at the end, I had to book it back to hell to escape because, like, that angel is nasty," she says. "But it's fine, because it keeps on coming after me, so—"

       "Isabelle..."

        Her dad's frowning at her.

       "Yeah?" she says.

       "Whilst the campaign's going on," her dad begins. Oh, no. Izzy knows what's coming. "I need you to be on your best behaviour."

       Izzy frowns. "Elijah paid his way into Harvard."

       Elijah raises his eyebrows. "Uh, yeah, but that's pretty minor compared to the fact that you're the antichrist—?"

       "Can we not throw that word around, please?" their dad says. He doesn't like talking about Izzy's biological dad. He doesn't like the word antichrist or devil's daughter, because to him, she is only his daughter... He just asked to ask for some unholy help to get her. But, still. He doesn't like it. Case in point. "Anyway. You need to be on your best behaviour. No Morningstar, for the time being. It took a lot to cover up Berlin and I can't risk something else like that."

       Izzy nods. "I promise I'll be good."

       "Thank you," says Alexander. "And, ah, the other thing is — the general public love a candidate with good, old-fashioned American family values. So, whilst I'm in the city, you need to come with me, to some of these rallies and fundraisers. But only when I'm here. You've got school."

       "I do," says Izzy, wishing she didn't.

       She missed summer, she hasn't even had a break!

       "Speaking of," says Izzy, shovelling the last spoonful of Lucky Charms into her mouth. "I'm gonna be late."

       "Can't be America's sweetheart with tardies," says Elijah.

       Izzy rolls her eyes. She almost accidentally hits him with her schoolbag — she's changed the Birkin for a Chanel backpack (it matches her Vivienne Westwood pearls better) — but remembers her own strength and decides to stop herself. She says goodbye to everyone, giving Marie a quick hug since they haven't spoken since last night, and she takes the elevator downstairs.

       Hm. America's sweetheart. She doesn't like that. Like, it feels a little wrong to her, if this campaign's intending to mould her into a member of the perfect American family... Because she's the devil's daughter. She feels like her unholiness creates a severe perversion out of the whole thing. And, like, she knows that no family can be perfect, but considering she's the devil, and her dad sold his soul, she feels so wrong entertaining this.

       But she's got to, hasn't she? She doesn't like it but whatever. Who cares. She likes to fight for the right cause as much as the next Captain America stan, but at the end of the day, she's gotta do what her dad asks. He's trying to become president. She can suck it up, just for now, and live her unholy life behind her mask.

       The elevator opens up at the floor below hers, and the twins from apartment fourteen stand beside her. They're in middle school, and are young enough to oogle Izzy like she's a cooler older teenager. She figures she is. She's allowed to wear Chanel, they're not old enough for that yet. (That's what they tell her — and to be fair, she only got her first Birkin that young, because Nazis kidnapped her.)

       "Hi," says Blaire.

       "Hi," says Sirena.

       Yeah, Izzy knows.

       "Hiya," says Izzy.

       "I like your necklace," says Blaire.

       "And your bag," says Sirena.

        Izzy smiles. "Thanks!" she says. "Hey, uh, I've got some vintage stuff if you wanna come up and take it... If your mom's cool with it."

       Blaire purses her lips. "I doubt she'll say yes."

       Sirena smiles. "But we'll ask anyway," she says. "Thanks!"

       "Honestly, I don't wear all of it, and I could do with clearing some of it out," she says, shrugging her shoulders. "Besides, it's better for the environment, wearing vintage."

       "Totally," says Sirena. Blaire looks unconvinced, but the idea of old Prada is appealing regardless.

       Isabelle steps out onto the ground floor, and as she makes her way out of the apartment's lobby, she gets two texts — one from Nate, and another from Peter.

       NATE: yo im outside

       PETER: i'm glad you're okay!!

       She texts k to Nate and wanna hang out later? to Peter. If anything it's laughable, the difference in messages, but whatever. Nate's her best friend. Practically her triplet. It's a little different to the cute superhero boy she's friends with now, and left on like, the real-life version of read last night.

       "Good morning," says Isabelle with a grin, as she sees Nate. She gives him a hug, and he rolls his eyes; but, before they can get into the car, Riley runs up to Isabelle, throwing her arms around her. "Riley!"

       "Izzy!" says Riley, hugging Isabelle tightly. "You've missed so much!"

       "You really haven't," says Nate, raising an eyebrow.

       Riley shakes her head. "That girl died."

       "Oh, yeah," says Nate.

       Isabelle frowns. "What?"

       As they get into Nate's car Riley explains — "Alex Morgan." Isabelle remembers her. They've been at the same school since kindergarten, Izzy remembers when Alex got her signature highlights for the first time. They were never friends, but it's shocking to Isabelle, hearing that she's gone. "It's weird. They think someone killed her, but they've got no idea who. The cops are trying their best and her families hired private investigators... But there's no leads. All they know is that she died, the night you went to hell."

       "Uh," says Isabelle, her eyes widening.

       "Obviously it's got nothing to do with it!" says Riley. "But that was the night she died."

       "Oh," says Isabelle. She frowns. "How don't they know who killed her?"

       Nate shrugs. "No clue, but it's gonna run her parents into the ground. They've already sold their place in the Hamptons to afford the private eyes."

       Something feels wrong. Isabelle can't explain why, but something feels off. Murders don't go unsolved nowadays — especially when a filthy rich family is spending millions (she's figuring, since she's seen their Hamptons place) on the investigation. Something... isn't right.

       Isabelle can't help but feel guilty about it all. She should've been there, to defend Alex. That's what she's supposed to do, isn't she? If she is a hero, after all...

       "Maybe we can do some digging," says Nate, as the car stops. Mary Immaculate stands proud and tall in front of them. The three of them get out, and thank Nate's driver, and Nate looks around. Down the street, you can see the entrance to Central Park. They used to have field trips to the zoo, like, all the time. "I bet it won't take long until we got to the bottom of it."

       Riley nods, with a smile. "Guys, I think we've got a mystery on our hands."

       Isabelle grimaces, thinking about her white-winged friend. "I mean if it happened the same night I—"

       "It's got nothing to do with you, Iz," says Riley. "It's not your fault."

       "But what if it's the angel's?"

       Nate and Riley frown. "Huh?"

       Isabelle looks around, checking no one can overhear, as she quickly explains. "Maybe, the angel got angry and went after someone else?" she suggests.

       Riley frowns. "But why—?"

       "To make you feel guilty?" says Nate, raising an eyebrow.

       Isabelle's stomach ties into knots, because it's true.

       "So this angel, is trying to kill you for being evil," says Riley, her eyes narrowing. She looks like she's going to fight someone. Maybe she is... Maybe this is how Izzy defeats the angel. She lets Riley fight him, instead. "But... He's gone and killed someone, knowing you'll feel guilty..." Nate and Isabelle nod. "But that... Goes against you being evil, right? Because if you were evil you wouldn't care...?"

       "No one said angels weren't hypocrites," says Nate with a shrug.

       Isabelle nods. "All good people are dicks."

       Nate nods. "Ghandi."

       "Mother Theresa," Isabelle adds.

       "Quite a lot of priests..." says Nate, pulling a face.

       Isabelle grimaces.

       "OK, OK, I get your point," says Riley. Her brows furrow. They walk into school, and through the halls, towards homeroom. They were emailed the week before, saying where they were this year — Izzy only found out last night, but luckily, she's with Nate and Riley. "Maybe we can look at this more later, after school?"

       "I've got campaign stuff," says Isabelle, pulling a face. "... And I asked Peter if we could hang out — I'll cancel, though..." A girl died, she reminds herself.

       Riley frowns. "He could hang with us?"

       "But... what if...?" Isabelle starts, but she doesn't know how to word it.

       What if he gets overwhelmed by the three of us, because let's be real, everyone gets like that? What if he gets freaked by how shitty this all is? What if—?

       "We'll be on our best behaviour," says Riley.

       "I'll even bring Chinese," says Nate.

       "See?" says Riley with a grin.

       Isabelle feels apprehensive. "OK..."

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       SHE FEELS AWKWARD SAYING, hey, is it OK if my two friends hang out with us, but apparently it's fine, because Peter replies in five minutes and then says, to be fair... my best friend's just found out about my stuff and he really wants to meet you... And now Izzy's here, walking back from school, nervous as hell.

       Like, all three situations are things she can deal with. Solving mysteries with Nate and Riley in her apartment. Hanging out with Peter (and making him fall in love with her.) Meeting Peter's friends. But together? That's a lot. Because, like, whilst she can make Peter fall in love with her whilst meeting his friend, if her friends are there, too, that means that she has Nate waiting to embarrass her — or even Elijah doing that, since he's home. The whole thing's a little scary... Shit, she needs to hide her Bratz dolls before Peter arrives. And his friend. Ned, she remembers.

       She gets up to her apartment, where there's an Elijah-shaped hole on the sofa. Kardashians is still playing. He must've left recently; Marie hates TV, she wouldn't keep it on. Weird.

       Isabelle prays to Satan that her dad doesn't arrive home in the next few hours, that whatever campaign prep he's doing is going to keep him busy for a while. Because, sure, he would like Peter, but her dad knows of him as the other kid they found in Berlin. Her dad knows that Izzy's Berlin trip was her own decision, but she knows he's not gonna like the guy that she snuck onto their private jet... And who they had to cover up, too, in case Peter Parker had any connections to Izzy Oswald, daughter of presidential candidate Alexander Oswald.

       Cerberus sits on her bed, as she finishes cleaning up. He rests one head on her knee. "You've gotta be on your best behaviour, Cerb," says Isabelle, sternly. "No scary bullshit tonight, OK?" One head woofs. She takes this as I understand, Iz... Wait. Do you think Cerb thinks she's called Moroi? Since he's from hell? Hm... Lots to think about.

       A few minutes later, the dreaded message arrives:

       Hey, we're outside :-)

       It's technically a Snapchat, and there's a cute little picture of Peter underneath it. She springs to her feet, and Cerberus jumps up too, as she dials Peter's number.

       "Hey," she says, on the phone. "I'll come down and let you in — security won't let you in on your own."

       She walks through the living area, past Marie, who's switching off Kardashians, looking unimpressed. Izzy sees Cerberus following her, but Marie swoops him up into his arms, before he can jump into the elevator.

       "Cool," says Peter. "This is a nice building..."

       "You're not even inside it," says Isabelle.

       "Yeah, but I can see the lobby," he says. "Looks fancy."

       She presses the ground floor button, and snorts. "Wait until you see my room." Immediately her eyes widen. "I didn't mean it like that..."

       Peter starts laughing. Isabelle can see, in the elevator mirror, her cheeks turning red. Yeezus Lice.

       "OK," says Peter.

       "Stop," says Isabelle, pulling a face.

       She arrives in the lobby, and walks out the front doors, hanging up.

       "Hiii," says Isabelle with a smile. She looks across at Ned, who she remembers from the opening of the Oswald Centre (it takes her a minute to remember which event she met these two at, they're all the same.) "You're Ned?" He nods. "It's really nice to see you again."

       Ned looks overwhelmed. "Uh, yeah, same..."

       Izzy glances at Peter, then back to Ned. "Uh, my friends should be here soon, but they'll let themselves in," she says. "Wanna go up?"

       "Sure," says Peter with a smile.

       Things are awkward. Isabelle doesn't think Ned knows she's Moroi. He seems more wowed by the lobby, and then the elevator, which wouldn't be the case if he knew her secret? She keeps on trying to catch Peter's eye, and mouth does he know but she can't do it without Ned seeing. Oh well. Things should be fine.

       "So you know he's Spiderman," says Ned, as soon as the elevator closes.

       Peter starts to protest, looking up at the camera.

       "Oh, no, you're safe," says Izzy. "I'd be in so much trouble if they actually monitored this thing... Anyway." She smiles nicely. "Yeah, I know."

       Ned looks across at Peter. Izzy senses tension.

       "I was gonna tell you too!" says Peter.

       Ah. He's annoyed.

       "Well you didn't tell me first," says Ned with a frown.

       Izzy raises an eyebrow. "I'm Moroi, it's chill."

       Ned's jaw drops.

       Peter's eyes widen. "You didn't have—"

       "Look, Ned, my friends are coming over because someone died the same night this bitch of an angel got me sent to hell," says Isabelle. She smiles again. "It's just another Thursday here."

       "Wait, what—?" Peter starts.

       "A girl in my class was murdered," says Isabelle. "I think it was the angel."

       "An angel?" says Ned.

       Izzy nods. "A bitchy one."

       The elevator opens up into her apartment. She glances across at Peter and Ned, who look in awe at the sight of it. Isabelle feels a little awkward, as if she's showing off, but she scoops Cerberus into her arms and smiles softly.

       "This is my dog," she says. "Cerberus."

       Peter, quizzically, goes, "Does this mean he's the real—?"

       "Uh-huh," says Isabelle with a grin. "Cerb, show 'em your other heads!" And, like that, they can see her dog in all of his glory. Both of them look pretty excited, and all three of Cerberus' tails are wagging. She feels much better.

      It's few more minutes before Nate and Riley appear, letting themselves in. By this point Izzy had shown the two boys her bedroom, casually pushing the box of Bratz dolls under her bed, before they noticed.

       "We brought your spring rolls, your highness," says Nate, throwing a paper bag at Izzy's head. She catches it without batting an eyelid; she hears a quiet 'wow' come from Ned.

       "Oh, he knows," says Izzy, to Nate and Riley.

       "Does he know we're demons?" says Nate.

       Izzy raises an eyebrow; Ned and Peter, however, look at the two with wide eyes.

       "He's joking," says Riley, rolling her eyes.

       "Yeah, we're cherubs," says Nate, and he reclines across Izzy's bed.

       Izzy crosses her arms. "He's a dick, I'm sorry."

       She sits down next to Peter, who must be bewildered by this. Isabelle knows that Nate's making the upmost effort to scare them away. See if Peter really likes her. As if they didn't meet when Isabelle was being attacked by a zombie. She thinks he's being stupid, but then, she understands why. If Izzy had a penny for every friend her and Nate made, before they met Riley, that was only interested because of who they were... Well, they'd only have two pennies, but it's weird it happened twice, right?

       Riley wheels Izzy's desk chair closer to everyone else, offering a prawn cracker to Ned, who she's closest to.

       "So, Spidey," says Nate.

       "Uh," says Peter.

       Isabelle puts her face in her hands. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said."

       "It's all right," says Peter.

       Nate grins at Isabelle, who glares back at him.

       "If it helps, Nate's dad was Invisi-man," says Izzy.

       Nate starts to protest, "Woah, woah, woah—"

       "That superhero from the nineties?" says Ned.

       Peter frowns. "That wore underwear over tights?"

       Both Isabelle and Riley laugh.

       "I like them," says Riley to Izzy, grinning.

🦇💋

       YEAH, SO, NOTHING TO DO with the angel occurs; by the time everyone leaves, Izzy suddenly remembers why they came over in the first place — to solve crime, not to interview the boy she likes — and sits on the sofa, feeling shit.

       She cannot believe this. They had one thing to do, and she completely forgot about it. And, sure, it was nice, seeing her friends meet Peter and Ned, but still... Someone died and she forgot. And, considering they were murdered the same night she escaped that angel... She can't help but feel like it's her fault.

       Even if it isn't, the police can't solve the murder, this girl's family is running themselves into the mud, trying to afford an investigation, so that automatically means it's Izzy's responsibility now. She picks up her laptop from the coffee table and types an email to the accountant, saying, I think offering help with this investigation will be super good for Dad's campaign, what do you think? She adds her dad to the email and sends it. Even if she can't solve it, she can at least stop them from going bankrupt.

       The elevator doors open, with Elijah.

       "Hey," says Izzy.

       Elijah sits down next to her.

       Izzy looks across at him. Are his eyes glassy...?

       "Are you OK...?"

       "You remember Charlotte?" says Elijah.

       Izzy nods, thinking back to High School Elijah in his Mary Immaculate gear, and Charlotte, his best friend back then. She's like, his Nate and Riley. "Yeah."

       "She was murdered."

       Isabelle's stomach drops.

       "When?"

       "Last night, they think."

       You saw the angel last night.

       "They found her body this morning — but there's no leads, they have no idea where to even start..."

       Isabelle's speechless. 

       "Why would someone want her dead?"

       It's not her they wanted dead.

       It's me.

oof

ALSO! charlotte is an oc by my bby mickey, for a barry allen fic called aurora!! thank u for letting me not only write a crossover but also immediately kill your character 💖