#( feel free to time skip to when they get to safety if writing about them going through the house is too tedious )

[arthvrmvrgan]

Arthur Morgan x Male!Reader Hcs

Hey!! I wanted to make another hc list cuz the last one did so well! I made this an x male!reader because as a gay trans guy, there really isn’t too much when it comes to male readers. I just wanna make other people who feel the same and myself feel happy and represented!

Also to add Arthur is autistic in this

Warnings: Mention of vomit

Though he maybe aversive to touch with others, arthur is SUCH a cuddle bug with his partner. When they first start out he’s shy and will hold your hand or wrap his arm around your shoulders.

but once it’s long term arthur gives you big bear hugs, hands around your waist, holding you close by the fire, and of course those soft kisses <3

When he’s drunk, he pulls you onto his lap, smothers your face in kisses, and yells about how much he loves you.

Arthur also gets shy when it comes to talking about his interests. If you mention something like drawing or horses, he’d make a small comment or addition to the conversation. But once he’s comfortable enough, he’ll infodump for hours about horses to you!

Just hold him close, let his head rest on your chest while you pet his hair and he infodumps, and he’s in heaven!

Some pet names he’d call you would include: “Darlin, Sweetheart, My prince, My man, Hun, and Sunshine” :3 When you call him any pet name, his heart melts and his legs feel like jelly

He loves giving and receiving praise! He’ll whisper in your ear “good boy” just to mess with you cuz he know it makes you BLUSH! But he’ll also be like “atta boy!” or “yup, that’s my boy.”

The first time you praised him, it felt really odd for him. He hadn’t been praised like that ever since he’d been with Mary. It felt so foreign but so…good.

His big ol’ heart skips a beat when you tell him how proud you are of him, or how he looks so handsome in that new shirt you got him. He feels like the happiest man on earth

Now unfortunately, times weren’t as accepting as they are now. You and Arthur knew it had to be kept secret for fear of what might happen. You two don’t feel any embarrassment at all, just a need for a safety. The gang knows about you two, most of them accepting you with welcome arms!

You also help Arthur out more with errands, jobs, and chores. Ever since an incident were Arthur worked his way up to illness like vomiting, you’ve made it your duty to lay off the weight on Arthur’s shoulders.

If he needs help with the hay bales, you’ll be right next to him holding one. If he’s going out on a stage job from alden, you ask if you can tag along!

Arthur has gotten better with accepting help or rest, but not so much asking for it. You still encourage Arthur to request help if he needs it, and how he’s not weak for doing so.

There have even been times where you’d yell at Dutch and Strauss to leave Arthur be for a bit.

He’ll sometimes doodle little drawings of you in his journal as well as writing lovey dovey passages about you and putting “A<3Y/N” with a big heart too. He’ll even just doodle random hearts while spacing out and thinking about you..

He gets so excited to see you, even if you can’t tell. The way his eyes light up like a big puppy dog’s as he speed walks over to your horse to greet you and give you a welcome back kiss

He also penguin pebbles and finds random stuff that reminds him of you!! Whether it be a cigarette card, a flower, or even some artifact or object he found…he WILL give it to you!

That’s all for now! If y’all wanna send in your arthur or just any other rdr hcs, feel free! I also wouldnt mind writing more arthur hcs so please feel free to send me rqs!

[alrightbuckaroo]

Happy Friday, my loves! It's been a minute since I've seen this tag game go around and it's been even longer since I participated. Seems like the perfect time to change that. As always, please feel free to use this as a jumping off point for all the wonderful words that have been written. Don't stop with just this list!

Take my hand, take my whole life, too by @heartstringsduet

With each wrinkle, each scar, each crease, each spot, their rings, their hands tell the stories of their lives together.

throw me on a hurricane (i'll ride it to the coast) by ArsenicInYourPudding

This is, in fact, TK's first rodeo. Carlos is lucky that he's there anyway.

Protect me by Karaxuno

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” TK asks, struggling for a second to find the words for what he wants to say, “Space to grow?” “With you, I’d take a closet.” Carlos teases, his fingers dancing away from his shirt sleeve and instead tracing up and down the line of TK’s jaw. “Been there, done that, let’s find a house.” TK grins, unable to stop the little laugh that bubbles in his chest. Or, post-S2-fire TK and Carlos look for a place together, and house shopping has its ups and downs.

Among my stillness was a pounding heart by @tailoredshirt

TK took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk about what happened last fall. With the loft.” Carlos’s brain was skipping around from one feeling to the next like a pinball. “With…when we broke up?” “Yeah.” “You…want to talk about the breakup,” Carlos said slowly. “While I’m proposing to you.” TK squeezed his hands. “Yes. Please.”

I hold onto the night you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me by @irispurpurea

"I have lost everything!" TK roars, and it feels so good. "Isn't that the whole point?" Or: It's the beginning of Season 4, and TK and Carlos are broken up again.

The Light of Our Life by @carlos-in-glasses

After an awkward conversation, Carlos buys TK a bearded dragon and fears it may be a parting gift (Coda for 4x12)

See Me (All of Me) by @bonheur-cafe

A fractured heart and a plea to be seen. Otherwise known as: the apology from his mom that Carlos never got, but deserves.

Make Me Laugh 'till I Die, I Stand Beside You With Pride by @lemonlyman-dotcom

A coda to the ending scene of 4x06. TK has a moment of insecurity; Carlos reassures him and, in the quiet safety of their bed, confesses an insecurity of his own.

tried and true blue by @reyesstrand

"She knows," Owen says, his eyes almost too sincere for TK to handle. He clamps his molars together and just stares at his father, because if he lets himself think too hard about all the ways his mom is still here, somehow, he'll probably burst into tears. Owen gives him a sad smile. "She does, TK. She used to talk about when you'd get married all the time." There's a pause, and TK curls his fingers tighter around his mug, letting everything simmer between them. "When I got married," TK quietly repeats. "Not if?"

and because there's a new chapter on the way, I'm going to recommend my shameless collection of smut, something to give each other (things are about to get so casual)

No pressure tagging everyone above and:

@captain-gillian, @carlos-tk, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @basilsunrise, @butchreyes

@nancys-braids, @never-blooms, @mikibwrites, @lightningboltreader, @herefortarlos

@honeybee-taskforce, @guardian-angle22, @freneticfloetry, @fifthrideroftheapocalypse, @strandnreyes

@sheholdsthemoon, @actual-sleeping-beauty, @whatsintheboxmh, @welcomehometk, @reasonandfaithinharmony

@welcometololaland, @eclectic-sassycoweyes, @rmd-writes, @thisbuildinghasfeelings, @theghostofashton

@orchidscript, @paperstorm, @emsprovisions, and of course here's an open tag for anyone who just wants to share!!

[amethxxt]

Any Shang Jr and Lonnie headcanons?

• Shang Jr is two years older than Lonnie and they get along well.

• I don't picture them as siblings who share a super close bond, but they are always there for one another. He was always supportive of Lonnie when it came to sword fighting and they always trained together at home.

• At Auradon Prep, he was very popular and was best friends with Herkie (Hercules' son). Him and Yi-Min (Yao's daughter) have known each other since they were little and are the epitome of high school sweethearts.

• Their little group were the ones that made the Enchanted Lake such a popular spot for skipping class, dates and parties.

• He was Coach Jenkin's assistant for the Tourney Team for a while before joining the Imperial Army after graduation. Some people joke about it being nepotism, but he is one of the most skilled warriors.

• A few months after joining the Imperial Army, he proposes to Yi-Min, although both of them agree to only get married a few years later.

• He's closer to their father and Lonnie's closer to their mother.

• When Lonnie came to Auradon Prep, she wasn't as popular as him and didn't really want to be. Still, she was always nice to everyone and could mingle from group to group.

• She's not shy and is very proud of her family history.

• Before the VKs arrives, she would always be hanging out with Ben, Aziz, Jane and if she was texting someone, it was most definitely Audrey. They love to gossip together (Lonnie was the one who kept giving her updates about the Cotillion).

• After the Core Four started attending Auradon Prep, Lonnie got really close to Jay and Evie, who also really likes hearing gossip. They talk for hours while Evie designs her new training clothes and Mal just sits in the corner sketching.

• She felt bad for failing to notice Mal's inner turmoil in D2 (and even contributing to it) so she spent a lot of time trying to make up for it until Mal told her to cut it out.

• Lonnie then opted for offering silent support, just sitting next to Mal and shapening her swords to keep her company and sneaking her a few chocolate chip cookies when she sees Mal's having a rough day.

• Despite being R.O.A.R's team captain, it takes some time for the rest of the boys to take her seriously and that's what she texts her brother about the most - just complaining about them as much as possible with his response being offers to beat them up if they ever go too far.

• She enjoys training with Jay the most, because he never holds back. Fencing with him is hard and draining, but the way he fights also helps her reflexes improve and teaches her new moves.

• With time, she learns to read him, and knows that whenever he spaces out or starts to get more aggresive is because he's having flashbacks about the Isle. Lonnie then takes the sword from him and forces him to sit down and take some time to breathe. If it gets too bad, she rushes to get Carlos.

• She's also the only one who has seen Jay's scars outside of the Core Four and always listens when he's willing to talk about it.

• After the Sea Three come to Auradon, she's the most eager to get to know Uma and have her and Harry join R.O.A.R. She also gives up on trying to get them to wear the safety equipment.

• Uma has beaten her in a sword fight before and even taught her a few of the pirates' moves.

• Lonnie ends up being recruited by Northern Wei's professional fencing team, but her dream is to also joing the Imperial Army in the future.

I think this is getting a bit long now, so I think I'll end it here lol (sorry if there's a bit more about Lonnie) but I can definitely write some more about them in the future!!

Hope you liked these headcanons! Feel free to send requests about any other character, couple, etc.

[eureka-its-zico]

So, there I was minding my own business working on Chapter 5, when suddenly, my adhd decided to skip where we were to the middle/end-ish and write a whole ass scene that was not planned, but now I like it so much I have to rewrite what I have to make sure it fits.

Below is a preview of the scene.

“God, I don’t know which one of them is worse. Can that even be classified as dancing?”

Nami’s soft laughter filtered over to him and Zoro couldn’t help but respond with a smile. At some point, you’d dived head first into too many of the giant fishbowls, deciding not to heed his warning, and came out the other side completely and utterly shit faced. So, when Usopp asked you to join him out on the dance floor, you hadn’t hesitated. For the last hour, Zoro wished there was a camera around just to hold this moment hostage from time.

He watched as you did moves he was willing to bet, if you were sober, would flush your cheeks in the rosy hue he’d found himself becoming obsessed with ever since he’d placed that snowdrop behind your ear. Another moment that time had taken he’d hoped to have burned into his memory. The way you’d looked up at him shifted something inside him, and Zoro wasn’t sure if he could ever get it back, or if he even cared it was gone.

You were in the middle of your next move - one arm behind your head while the the other was close to your side. Your shoulder rotating in strange circles as your body bounced off beat. Usopp had gone back to doing a shuffle beside you that broke you out of your dance and into his.

Zoro could feel a smile threatening to burst its way on to his lips. Quickly, he brought his glass of beer up and took a long pull from the glass.

“You’re different with her.” Every word was punctuated. Slow. As if Nami was afraid saying it too fast would spook him.

He took the glass from his lips and set it back on his thigh. His hand still wrapped around the cool mug as he finally regarded Nami.

“I’m not different with anybody.”

“Well, that’s not true. You’re different with Luffy; with us. I’m betting you don’t look at us the way you look at her, though.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s nothing.

God, he wanted it to be true. Even now, however, he could feel his neck straining to stay facing Nami’s direction. He wanted to look back and see what you were doing. To make sure you were safe.

And that the waiter hadn’t magically appeared from some corner of hell.

Nami must have known he was lying. She may have been a thief, but Zoro had come to realize her bullshit calling meter was the best he’d ever seen. She regarded him coolly with her brows raised in mock shock.

“I have eyes, Zoro. Unless you’re looking at me the same way when I’m not looking - it’s different.”

If he played it cool, kept his face free of emotion, and didn’t react he could still call her a liar. It was a solid plan that would’ve worked if his jaw hadn’t ticked in annoyance. Zoro wasn’t annoyed with Nami. He was annoyed at himself for being caught wanting something -someone - besides his goal.

He looked down into the safety of the amber liquid in his glass. Unsure of what - how - to begin to deny you hadn’t snuck in and taken a piece of him and called it yours. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“Look,” Nami sighed the word. “I know you’ve got your own thing going on. Who doesn’t.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming,” he grumbled.

“But it’s okay to still want other things too.”

Zoro allowed himself to look up from the safety of the glass and willed himself to appear emotionless as he considered her. His mind still mulling over her words and what Nami could possibly be trying to get at.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like her.”

[haydensky01]

Obey me! Sleeping with Lucy. Traumatized MC

Attention: Not short attention span friendly.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Truth is, since last week when Cerberus found itself free from its chains and wondered in the house following the scent of the only human there to attack it, you have been very traumatized.

It didn't matter that Lucifer saved you and put the creature back into its prison. Fact is, it was all last second. And you had that long long time within that one second terror face to face with the three headed dog glazing at you charging his firy breath about to tear you up. Needless to say, you haven't been able to go passed that moment.

Since that day, you'd make sure to never be alone especially at night. But a fact deep within wasn't making you any less terrified. After all, you saw how everyone of them hasn't been able to tame Cerberus or push it away from you till he nearly killed you. Everyone except Lucifer.

Lucifer and you share a respectful relationship. Almost professional. He, after all, is the Morning Star. The first born. And Diavolo's right hand. And since you came here, several months ago, you only had responsabilities and committments bounds.

You admired him. You respected him. But also, you liked him. There is no denying that. He was so handsome, so calm, so reliable. You feel like even a smile from him could charge you in energy for days. And knowing his importance and status, you being aware of the feelings you started growing towards him, makes you awkward around him. Avoiding eye contact, talking none sense sometimes, laughing about everything. Even at punishments when Mammon gets you on board in some stupid things.

Howerver, tonight is diffrent. Tonight, you are seriously terrified. You can't dare close your eyes. The smell of aches in Cerburus surrounds you. The 6 red eyes seem to stare at you in every corner of your room and you could hear the beast scream resonates in your soul. You need safety. You need security. You need Lucifer.

Heading to his study in the library you couldn't believe you were about to ask the first born to stay with him all night. You make it till his desk. Here he was working. Overworking. a pile of files and papers surrounding him from everywhere.

"What is it that brings you here at this hour? Is Asmo harassing you again?"

"... N-No, no. I just needed something .. I.."

He interupts you mid sentence: "Ah, is there anything more you needed for the festival preparation? Here, Take this list." He hands you a paper. "This is the list where the festival's needs are mentionned from my part. You can add anything you forgot about in it. I will make sure Diavolo has it appoved by tomorrow."

"... T-Thank you .. But .."

"Don't worry." He interups agains. "Diavolo has you on his good terms. I am sure he'll grant you some more." He says without taking his eyes off of the papers on the desk.

You take few seconds to think. "I just wanted to stay in the study with him. nothing else" You think to yourself.

"This is taking you a moment. Planning to add some more things now that we know the Young Prince won't say no? Be wise asking MC, Diavolo isn't here to spoil." Lucifer added from afar.

You look at the paper and write: "Could you please check if Cerberus is well chained tonight?". You put the paper on the corner of the desk and leave.

Back to your room (running) you close the door and hope he will see your message. You get on your bed and start counting sheeps. Maybe this will distract you. The thoughts of the beast comes and goes as you don't stop moving in your bed. Then tears came up. You hung on your pillow and cried undlessly.

An hour later, you still haven't slept but all the crying made you so exhausted you feel yourself doze off. As your breath slows and your eyes get heavier, you hear your door opens. Your heart skips a beat and your body freezes, eyes tightly shut in fear. And then you smell him. the vison of aches and fire dissipes as you recognize the perfume of Lucifer. A heavy spicy yet sweet scent of fruit and earth. The scent fills your entire room and envelops your whole body. It calms you down. You hear footsteps towards your bed. And this is when you realize. Lucifer is in your room. few steps away. Your heart pounds yet you don't make yourself known as awake. You hear him take off his coats that he puts on your chair. You hear him heading to your bed barefoot. when did he even take off his shoes? A moment after your bed goes down under the weight of the demon and your cover is lifted as a worm and big body lays next to you from behind. The smell imprinted your soul by now. A hand throws to your side of the bed 2 gloves, a tie and a gilet. His arm slides under your neck gently then comes back to rest on your upper shoulder while his other goes around your abdomen.

"I apologise ... I will never let anyone nor anything ever harm you." He says in the quite of your room.

Is this really Lucifer by your ear? on your bed? Against your body? under your covers? The serious, strict, scary, professional Lucifer?

"I can't bare seeing the bags under your eyes at every breakfest after the incident. Nor your pale face ... For how long haven't you slept my love?"

Your face is fire red now. Does he know you're awake? Wait, did he just call you HIS LOVE? ~Do I have to respond?????~

"I don't even remember." You finally say in a broken tired voice.

"Have you been crying?" He realizes to your voice. "Oh MC ..." He commented as he hugged you tighter.

"I sent a raven to the Castle. I declared personal affairs for the next two days. I sent another one to the school as well. They won't be expecting us coming couple days either. Would it be enough? would it be acceptable if we remained sleeping just like this for the next two days?"

"What about the boys?"

Lucifer smirked at the thought of his brothers. "I casted a spell on them. no one is waking up before two days at least."

You let a gasp of surprise out as you turn looking to Lucifer in astonishment. His hand on your waist makes its way up to your face. "You would be scared to know the extent of things I would do for you". He says in a tender yet firm eye contact.

As you look at him, you know he isn't exagerating. Missing on Diavolo's meeting, missing school and casting a spell on his brothers ... You knew he meant every word he said.

"Turn around, rest your head on my chest princess."

Your body obeys without leaving time to your mind to comprehend the order. As you put your head on his heart he caresses your back and you fall asleep to his last words.

"I imprinted a key to my room on your right palm. I am the one who will spoil you to the core. Your bed now is my heart and nowhere else".

.

[tavyliasin]

BG3 FicFeb NSFW - Day 8

This one was a little fun, more suggestive than full action smut but I spoiled you with a longer piece yesterday and still have my Baldur's Date piece to write~ As Tav has tried a great many things, and keeps none of them secret from Astarion as she shares her diary with him as they agreed, there's little he doesn't know about what she wants. But there is one thing she has been loathe to admit out loud... CWs and Tags here are pretty tame~ Voice kink, blindfold use, and a slight hint of power play, praise kink, and a lot of teasing.

Smut below the cut! ----- -----

Day 8 - Tav/Durge Explores A Secret Kink With Their LI

Tav was laying back against Astarion’s chest, his legs either side of her hips and his arms draped loosely around her shoulders, as comfortable as a familiar blanket, a deep feeling of warmth and safety in the embrace. In his hands he held a book they had borrowed from Gale, his head resting against hers. She was the faster reader of the two, so it was little need for him to ask when to turn the pages and continue. The moment of peace was well earned, claiming the room in the Elfsong Tavern for nothing more than a chance to rest while the others sought their own entertainment. Or at least, that was their plan.

“This is ridiculous,” Astarion complained, a hint of amusement in his voice, “a sword like hers would not be able to cut through the thick hide of a fully grown owlbear in one swing. My darling, I am getting the distinct impression the author has not been in a single real fight in his life.” 

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice, much as she tried to ignore it. “Well, you can’t expect everyone to have the kinds of adventures we’ve had, can you?” A little thought occurred to her in that moment, born of the blush creeping unbidden up her neck at the sound of his quiet laugh close beside her ear. “Maybe you should change the story a little. Read it to me, won’t you? My eyes grow so weary of staring at the pages~”

“Such theatrics, my love,” he kissed her quickly warming cheek as he relented, “very well, now where were we?” 

“The brave heroine took down the foul beast-”

“Of course… So, the body of the creature fell at her feet as her breasts heaved from the effort.” He hummed quietly in thought, the feeling vibrating from his chest to her back. “Do they really heave? Well. Moving on.”  

—

Astarion continued reading, his voice soft by Tav’s ear, noticing with a hidden smile how her body was growing warmer without a single touch, her head leaning back more onto his shoulder and her eyes fluttering closed. 

Perfect, he thought to himself with a devious idea, now she will have no idea when I change the story…

He was subtle at first, changing a few lines to a slightly more seductive context, taking note of how she reacted. Then he began to lower the book, freeing his hand to caress her soft skin, almost surprised to note just how hot and flush she felt. 

“Should I stop reading now, darling?” He kissed her ear softly, a pleased shudder through her back palpable against his chest.

“Please don’t,” she whispered, “I…like hearing your voice.” 

“Next time I will have to ask for one of his more lewd novels then, if you enjoy those stories more~” The last words came with a slight growl, earning a small gasp from her parted lips.

“It isn’t that,” even her breathing was quickened, “you could be reading the most boring treatise on the proper use of illusion magic and I would feel the same…”

“You have some very strange taste in erotic literature, love~” He continued to speak soft and low, putting more playfulness into the tone, relishing how her body would subtly move of its own accord.

“I…” She paused, as if embarrassed to go on.

“Tell me, my love,” he kissed along the edge of her ear again, a few teasing bites with sharp yet gentle teeth. “What is it you desire? I have read all of your exploits in the diary we share, and played my part in many. Nothing you could reveal would make me think less of you.” 

“Your voice…” She moaned as he continued to tease her with the slightest touch. “I…really love the sound of your voice.” 

“Why didn’t you say so sooner, darling? That is an easy wish to grant you…” He stroked her hair softly before bringing his hand over her eyes. “Shall I take your vision from you, so you can hear me more clearly?”

—

Tav couldn’t stop the moan from slipping out into the quiet room. “Please, Astarion-” 

“Then hold still, love, I will give you everything you want.” He reached over to grab a small dagger he kept in easy reach even now - old habits die hard after all - and cut away the silken cover of a nearby cushion. 

The fabric strip easily covered her eyes, blocking out the remaining light. The removal of one sense had the tendency to heighten the others temporarily, and she felt the truth in that with every word. 

“Now, not a word from you, but there is no need to stay silent…let me hear how I make you feel~” Astarion’s voice melted through her, soft as velvet, long practised seduction this time without any false promises. 

She nodded, just a small sound with it not finding a full syllable on her tongue.

“Good, darling, just like that.” He purred, wrapping his arms around her waist and caressing the line of her hip. “Your body is astonishing, how just a few words can have you squirming against me without so much as a kiss upon your soft lips.”

As he spoke, Tav’s body responded again, without any input from her will. His fingertips found her wrist, trailing up to her elbow.

“Such strength and skill, and yet all it takes is a little talk and you’re already melting into me.” His teasing was infuriating. “Should I continue telling you everything I love about your body, how you moan so sweetly for me, how I want nothing more than to rip off your clothes right now and taste every part of you…”

Tav nearly stopped breathing, already feeling the depth of her lust pooling deep in her stomach, every muscle in her body coiled tense like a spring…

“Or shall I make good on that promise, and keep talking while I do it?” His hands drifted away from their soft caressing, depriving her of any touch but his body against her back and his lips on her neck.

“Please…anything, just so long as I can hear you.” She begged, forgetting the one instruction that she had been given.

“Naughty little darling,” he purred with an edge of seductive threat, “but I will forgive you this once.”

Tav felt him press a line of kisses from her neck to her ear, directing the power of his voice to the very centre of her desire.

“Truth be told, love, your own voice can have a similar effect on me when I hear you beg so very beautifully for my affections~”

[slaingelo]

for your apocalypse au, have you thought about what started it, or what type of zombies it is? i absolutely love zombie media, like i go insane for zombies shows/movies/books, so this au is v interesting

YEAH !!!!

i'll be talking about viruses here n shtuff specifically rabies a lot so anyone who's squicked out by that feel free to skip this post.

so if you're like, into the scientific analysis of "how could something cause this IRL" with zombies you probably know that it very frequently goes back to rabies, if not mushrooms/parasites, being the closest real world comparison !! so like first i'm going to dive into rabies because my zombies here are directly based on it.

first off right off the bat. rabies, in real life, does not make humans turn into feral monsters.

I'm going into writing this with the assumption that Someone reading this might not be familiar with rabies, so anon if you're reading this and you already know a lot about rabies I'm sorry !! you activated the AUTISM and I'm goin ham, take most of this to be directed at anyone else who's reading. i might have a few of my facts mixed or jumbled as well because I'm relying on memory for all of this so take it with a grain of salt !!!

SO;

the reason animals become so violent is generally more so due to the confusion and fear rabies causes. while some humans need to be tied down, it's generally for their own safety or so they don't hit anyone. hit, not bite. sometimes they flail around. it's very rare for rabies to transfer between humans because humans don't have a reason to bite- if scared, flailing/hitting/scratching is more natural to us, and rabies is only transferred through saliva.

as an important note to how the zombie virus in my story works, its important to understand that rabies travels through the nervous system; not the blood. before symptoms appear, it's in a rest period. once symptoms appear, even just a mild headache, it is too late. [don't take this to be fear mongering lmao. just like, don't handle wild animals if you're not trained to and if you think you've been bit by anything go get your post-exposure rabies shot.]

so !! the virus in my au is a direct evolution of the rabies virus. the zombies because of this technically aren't even zombies, since they're not dead; but they're basically just hosts to the virus. their consciousness deteriorates so much that there's no Them in there anymore really.

this is where it kinda slightly leans into a slight idea of parasite-y shit even if it's not a parasite; if the host dies, the virus can't spread anymore, so unlike real world rabies that ends in death Quickly, this one wracks the body's system much slower. while this means there's more time to find some way to be saved depending on your circumstances, it also means if you don't, it's going to be worse for you. you'll be terribly sick and then just... gone to the most animalistic instincts that were locked away in your head [attack anything that moves, eat eat eat eat-]

and on that note ! one of the biggest issues if you think too hard about it with rabies -> zombies is that you can't really swallow when rabies takes hold. hydrophobia develops, and the brain starts to fuck up on muscle control and movements. so yeah this is kinda just getting cut out for the evolved version here, let's say this smarter virus evolved to Not do that so the host survives longer via being able to still eat. hydrophobia remains because I said so, though probably more so in the way that they can't swim and would just sink to the bottom of any body of water- so the virus just makes them stay away from it.

ANYWAYS.!!!! yeah the virus moving slowly through the body is how Blue survives, Green cut off his arm while all the virus was still In It. Obviously this won't work if you get bit somewhere worse, but most bites would probably be in the arm anyways. you'd also kinda need a trustworthy companion because chances are you'll be out of commission for a bit and likely infected with some other bullshit because hey !!! shit ain't aseptic out here !! Green was able to find some antibiotics that helped, but Blue wasn't doing too hot for a bit there. it's a very risky idea but it worked out for them...

AS FOR HOW IT ALL STARTED I haven't though about that too much honestly. mostly because all the characters are just- normal people. they had no involvement with whatever happened, but i thought up a few ideas since there surely would've been Some news reporting, and my favourite one;

natural evolution of the rabies virus. suddenly, even though it was supposed to be gone from the area, reports of rabid animals were showing up again- and now, lots more people too. it seems like the post exposure vaccine isn't helping anymore...

some other ideas i had that i was less fond of but might as well put out;

a cliche "someone was fucking around and finding out about creating a bioweapon out of rabies and it Went Terribly Wrong, who'da thunk!"

i think it's been done in some movie idk i don't watch many zombie movies, where it was specifically rabies that a human caught that they then intentionally spread to other humans and it got stronger with direct spreading to more human hosts or something idk

i think i had more ideas but like idk this is what i could remember HGJDSGHDSH anyways i hope that's a pretty clear answer, kinda went a bit off topic now and then i kinda wanted an excuse to info dump about rabies. for the ppl who were saying it sounded like an interesting interest when i mentioned it before here you go. i need to make a nuclear apocalypse au......

[barefoot-inthewildestwinter]

Make your tea and your toast (part 2)

A/N: I am so sorry for the delay. I moved for/started grad school and I hadn't set up internet yet so writing kind of took a back seat! I plan to update much more frequently though. Any feedback is much appreciated!

Title: Make your tea and your toast

Summary: If he played his cards close to his chest, she never picked hers up. Emily's past slowly catches up to her and he realizes just how little he knows about her.

Word count: 10k

Ratings: Mature, eventually

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, SA, abortion, pregnancy and teen pregnancy, and violence.

February 2007

Quantico, VA

It’s 4:15 on Friday when he glances down and spots the crowd gathering at her desk. She’s gotten up from the heaps of files she’d been pouring over all day. The pads of her long fingers brushing wrinkles out of the blue fabric of her dress. She looks like a painting from where he’s sitting. Rays of sunlight from the windows in the unit all converged on her, giving her a warm, glowy aura. She was talking to someone. He wouldn’t be able to tell anyone who it was, blame it on the light. It was irrelevant. Her contagious smile had burst into laughter, silky hair bouncing across her shoulders as she moved. He could tell that she was passing out muffins to anyone that wandered into her eyesight. Asking about their weekend plans, about their families, trying to force more baked goods into their arms as they headed towards the door. 

He thought back to a couple of weeks ago. That night when he saw her blink for the first time.

Later on, he would realize she hadn’t blinked. In fact, she really hadn’t deviated from her usual manner. The only real intel on her that he had gathered from that was that she was passionate about their work. Particularly so when dealing with women who had been victimized by career psychopaths. She understood the feelings of helplessness that plagued cases. And perhaps the most revealing, she had a bit of a sleeping problem. Apart from her outfit, she had remained professional. Or rather, she remained heavily guarded, not budging an inch even in what he thought was a moment of weakness for her. What he thought was a blink wasn’t even a scratch on the surface of her. 

Though, something had certainly changed; she had shown him genuine trust beyond the minimum amount required to demonstrate her respect for his authority while also maintaining the safety of their team. Enough to take him up on his offer for solace and enough to challenge his wonted reasoning for tolerating failure in their casework.  She had even trusted him enough to allow him into her room to make sure she got some rest. 

They hadn’t spoken about that night in Nevada since it happened. Though, as Reid noted, he had been more attentive to her on the flight back to Virginia than usual. Bringing her a mug of his chamomile tea before take off and checking in with her periodically. 

It had been a week of busy work for them. Mostly tying up loose ends on previous cases, finishing case reports and a couple of individual client consults for Gideon and himself.  Leaned up against her desk, JJ is the first one to ask Prentiss what she’ll be doing this weekend. Back to him, her plans remain a mystery. Whatever her answer is, it clearly doesn’t satisfy JJ, who scowls lightly and shifts her weight to stand up straighter. He moves closer to the doorway of his office, hoping to glean details of the conversation below without arousing much suspicion. 

“We’re getting drinks this weekend,” she states, pushing loose hair over her shoulder. “And you have to come.” Her legs cross as she slides herself up onto the only free space on the desk. As if something in JJ’s words had summoned her out of her office, Garcia skipped over to the bullpen. Perching herself on Morgan’s desk, dangling her heels into the empty chair, her foot maneuvering the armrests to swivel back and forth. 

Prentiss sits down in her own chair. “We?” Her lips hang open, anticipating a quick response. He wonders if she’s asking because she hopes that he won’t be there. 

“Everyone. Me, Penelope, the team...”

 “Are you talking about this weekend? At Dubs?” Garcia interjects before Prentiss can press for further information. “Oh please come. On Sunday, after the Super Bowl, we do this every year.” She shifts her focus between the two women as they rehash the events of the previous year’s night out, arms crossed. She doesn’t appear unhappy. Just less happy than he would think her to be, given that she is often one to push for them to meet outside of the BAU. “Last year, JJ was four sheets to the wind and a couple of DC unis had to bring her home.” JJ’s eyes widen as she lunges to smack Garcia with one of Prentiss’ lighter files. 

“In my defense, the Steelers won and I grew up in a town where watching football is another form of going to church.”

“I didn’t realize you were all such big football fans.” Her question comes out as a statement, indicating that perhaps she was not one. JJ shakes her head. “Oh no, definitely not. JJ is, you could probably tell by now. Derek is, obviously, and I like to see brawny men in tights under almost any circumstance.” Prentiss and JJ share an awkward laugh. “The rest of us just passively watch the Super Bowl. It’s like a trainwreck, you know, you just can’t look away.” 

“Even Hotch is coming,” JJ offers. He smirks at this statement, not entirely sure why. Surely her answer will be ‘No’ now. “I remember him saying that Haley would be coming as well.” 

He can see her shoulders fall, releasing tension he hadn’t seen her carry. Her glowy smile returned to her lips. “Oh, good, you know, I cannot picture Gideon in a D.C. bar right now, but I am very intrigued.”

Penelope snorts a laugh back. “Yeah, neither can I.” She leans in briefly, lowering her voice half an octave. “He usually doesn’t take us up on our offers, I kind of wish he would just once though.”

“Oh, JJ. I would pay to see Gideon drunk. Maybe even just to see him have a cosmo.” After a few minutes of chatter, JJ gets up off of the desk and straightens out her blazer. “So, Emily, you’ll go with us?” He sees her nod, “Oh, definitely. What bar is it again?”

“The Auld Dubliner over in DC, everyone calls it Dubs.”  Prentiss nods, attempting to write down the name and location on a notepad against her thigh. “It’s okay, I’ll text you the address and the time we’ll probably mostly get there at.” JJ walks off, giving the desk some of its space back. He turns to go back to the files on his desk, her questions to Garcia about the dress code just within earshot. Given her upbringing, he’s sure that she is perfectly capable of choosing an appropriate outfit for any situation on her own, but he admires her attempt to win points with Garcia through fashion advice. 

At five he’d cleared his desk of open files, briefcase sitting in his chair. He’s rummaging through his coat pockets for his keys when she sneaks in. Avoiding starting a conversation with him through casual eye contact, she places three files in his inbox. Through pursed lips, she explains, “Missoula, Ann Arbor, Omaha.” He nods, the gesture freeing her to slip towards his door as quickly as she had entered through it.

“Prentiss?” he calls after her, stopping her in her tracks before she reaches the doorway. She turns on her heels to face him once more. “Yes, sir?” This time she holds her head up, allowing their eyes to meet. He detects a twinge of panic in hers. He sizes her up, noticing her nails press into her palms against the blue fabric on her dress. “Have I done something to upset you?” Her presence immediately shifts, the dark, glowy aura morphing into an apologetic one matching the blue of her dress. She shakes her head. “No, sir. You haven’t, really. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” 

He takes a moment to look her over once more, analyzing the statement beyond her words. He furrows his brows and shoots her a look, Be honest. When she doesn’t budge, he tests the waters. “I don’t mean to pry but you’ve been rather withdrawn since we came back from Golconda. If I’ve overstepped, you can tell me off.”

His relief comes when he hears her laugh sincerely. “No, it’s just me, cursing myself for making a fool of myself in front of my boss that night.” Now he’s the one shaking his head. “You did no such thing. I was put in charge of this team, I’m here for you all, for anything, anytime. Don’t tell Garcia I said that though, or she’ll try me at home more often with less remorse.” She cracks a smile, nodding in agreement. He grabs his briefcase from the seat and turns off the lamp, following her out. The unit is dim, empty aside from a couple of uniformed officers. 

“So you’ll be coming then, on Sunday?” They step into the elevator headed down to the garage. 

“Yeah, I think I will. Although the idea of potentially outing myself as a lightweight does frighten me.” They share a laugh. She looks down at her hands, twisting her thumbs.  “No, I am looking forward to it.” 

“Great, I know Haley was eager to formally meet you.” She grins at him and he can’t help but reflect it back.  The elevator stops at the first level, his stop. “See you Sunday.” He disappears behind a concrete wall. 

Her words echo through the building, “Have a good night, Hotch.” 

She hadn’t watched a minute of the game. Instead, her afternoon had been spent preparing to go out and cleaning her apartment. For a reason she couldn’t pinpoint, she felt nervous. Like she was back in high school, waiting for a date. Sure, she was still relatively new to the team, but she was in good standing with all of them. Enough to be comfortable hanging around them outside of the office. She slips on a top and some jeans, checking herself out in the mirror three times before leaving. She tosses her purse and go-bag in the passenger seat of her car before combing through her messages for an address from Garcia. 

The phone buzzes as she parks the car. The text is from Penelope; We r all here. Pretty please say ur coming soon? She replies, letting her know that she’d arrived. 

When she walks into the bar, Hotch is already sitting down, a half glass of beer left next to him. He’s wearing his brown sweater, the one he was wearing in Nevada when they last spoke. He looks relaxed, casual almost. 

“Sit, please.” His voice was softer than it had been a few days before. She obliges, hopping onto the barstool across from him. She takes this opportunity to survey the room. JJ in the back, shooting darts with two tall men she recognizes from Counterterrorism. Reid is sitting in a booth with a girl from Counterintelligence and two others she doesn’t know. He has a drink which shocks her a little bit. Morgan is leaning against another table, flirting with a couple of unsuspecting girls. 

“Hey, lady. You made it!” Garcia props herself up at their table, drink in hand, leaning into Prentiss’ side. He notices her tense lightly at the contact, biting her lower lip while briefly calculating her reply. 

“Hey, thanks for the address.”

“Yeah, no problem. You look hot by the way.” She’s wearing a silky top, no sleeves, leaving her arms bare. The neckline plunges, exposing more of her chest than she typically does at work. Her cheeks blush and he wonders if he’s been staring at her for too long. 

Penelope had only glanced at her for a second, causing Prentiss to realize that her friend had wandered over to her just to get a better view of Derek. Swirling her cocktail around with the mini straw, she is rapt. 

Emily takes a deep breath in, looking over at him, then her, then back at him. Are you seeing this? He gives her a half nod. “Yeah, you’re one to talk.” Their eyes remain locked and they share a frightened laugh when they hear her purr. 

“Okay, Penelope, I love you. But, I am going to need you to take your drooling somewhere else, babe.” Garcia relinquishes her hold on Prentiss’ arm, sneering as she moves to a seat at the table in front of them. Free to sit up untethered, she turns her attention back to Hotch. “How was the game?” He bares his teeth with a brief smile. “I have no idea.”  Glass to his lips he spies her raised brow and wild eyes teeming with curiosity. “We spent the day taking Jack to the Orchid exhibit at the Museum of Natural History,” he offers. He watches as she turns away to laugh into her shoulder. Tucking her hair behind both ears, her lips still parted when she faced him again. “Was that a joke, Hotchner?”

“No, of course not. We take our perennial flowers very seriously.”

 A small, blonde woman brushes his backside before pulling a stool up between them. She recognizes her immediately from pictures and from the few times she’s seen her  in his office. “Honey, the line for the bathroom was so not short.” He mumbles and observes as the two women acknowledge each other. An elbow to the ribs snaps him out of his thoughts. “Oh, I’m sorry. Prentiss, this is my wife, Haley. Haley, this is Agent Prentiss.” 

She shoots him a playfully annoyed look. “Emily, please. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you as well. Aaron talks about you often, I’ve been hoping to get a chance before now.” The use of his first name forces her smirk. Aaron.

“All good things, I hope?” Haley nods eagerly. 

“What did I miss?” She turns to Hotch. He shifts on the stool to lean into her, pointing to their team as he speaks. “Well. Jennifer is still schooling those guys at darts. Spencer is dissecting episodes of Star Trek, I think. Derek is…” They all glance over to him. “Well, Derek is in a good mood, he’s from Chicago. And Penelope may be too far gone.”

“No Jason?” Haley asks, looking up at him. He shakes his head lightly. “He had a prior commitment.” She notices him distancing her from himself. Jason, Jennifer, Spencer, Derek, Penelope. She’s Agent Prentiss. It feels impersonal. Though she still is relatively new to the team, she didn’t feel that unfamiliar. Perhaps his way of storing her in his work life and not bringing her home. Had he not been the one to initiate their friendliness?

They chat, make small talk. He can tell that she’s pulling from her past. A childhood of masterminding conversational skills. The bottom of his empty glass hits the table. Haley’s voice right after pulls her down from the spiral. “Well, I could use a drink.”

She smiles, getting up from her stool. “I’ll go, what are you drinking?”

Hotch looks over at her, judging the tension in her voice. “Guiness?” 

“I’ll have an aperol spritz, thanks.” She nods and turns away from the couple. 

He watches her make her way back towards the bar, her top rides up slightly when she bends over the bar to shout their orders. He can see their orders on her lips as she gets the attention of the bartender. She orders another beer as well. He quickly averts his eyes, feeling heat rush to  his cheeks. 

“She seems nice. Very pretty.” His wife’s words bounce off of the side of his neck. In a hushed tone, he mutters a stern ‘Haley,’ his lips barely open to let the words out. "A bit puppyish though, don't you think?" He stares at the bottom of his empty glass. “She’s new to the team, still trying to fit in. Please don’t do this.” She keeps her calm tone, “I’m just saying. I feel better knowing you have something nice to look at while you’re away.” Her words are sharp but take them both by surprise. Reaching a level of seriousness, they laugh it off.

She beams on the way back, dodging Morgan and the girls that have adhered themselves to his sides,  and careful not to spill all three drinks. “Hey Morgan, be careful. The one in the back could take your wallet” He doesn’t even look back at her. “That's alright, I'd be a broke, happy man.” She smirks in disbelief. They grab at the drinks down on the table. Saying cheers and taking much needed sips. She notices them sitting closer together than they had been, but they weren’t being affectionate. An obvious change in the air. 

“So how are they treating you at the BAU,  Emily?” She looks up at Hotch, pleading for an answer or at least a clue. “She means, am I being nice to you?” He clarifies through the drink. She looks between them, something is definitely off. She feels like an outsider but is somehow also too close to them at this moment. “Actually, everyone has been incredibly nice.” She bites her lower lip and plays with her watch. 

“Look at him move, he's like a cat,” Penelope’s words overshadow the awkwardness. 

Grateful to shift attention away from herself, she comments back, “More like a dog.”

“He did not ask them to dance, they asked him.” She laughs big at her friend’s dedication to watching Morgan grind up on strangers. She stifles her laughter. “Okay, okay. He's a cat,” she concedes. 

Haley leans into her, shouting over the music and chatter, “An alley cat.” 

“Come on, honey. Let's show them how it's done.” She stares at them as he takes Haley’s hand and pulls her towards the floor. “Oh, that is so sweet.” She promises Penelope that she’ll watch her drink  and guard her front row seat to Derek’s show, but her focus is elsewhere. Her eyes are glued further back though. Watching her boss dance with his wife. It’s obvious to her, and probably anyone else, that they are highschool sweethearts. He is so unwound around her, softer than he had been to her in Nevada by miles. She wonders how difficult it is for him to move between his lives.

In the corner of her eye, she spots JJ on the phone headed for the door, head down. When JJ comes back in, she shoots her a glance from the entrance. They have a case. She sighs and shrugs back, getting up to notify the others. 

When she gets to them, they already know. They meet her halfway, holding hands. “Party’s over?” Haley asks. Prentiss says yes, it’s urgent. “Of course. Um, honey, we drove here together.” 

“Oh, that’s right.” 

She bites her lip again, trying to refrain from overstepping. “JJ has a full car, but I can drive you to Quantico. If that’s okay.” He looks to Haley for approval. “Are you sure you can get home safe?” She nods. 

Prentiss notes the surprise in his words. As if he wasn’t expecting this reaction from his wife. Haley takes the keys from his hand, “Go on then.” She almost apologizes for stealing him away for a case, but she can tell Haley is used to it.

She looks down at her wedges when they kiss goodbye. 

When they arrive back at the BAU, they pile into the briefing room. “Coffee. Everyone.” It’s an order. They’re all giddy with laughter, if not from their own drinking, then a second-hand intoxication. They listen to Morgan brag about his conquests and watch Reid shrivel away in response to some of the details. 

He can’t help but fixate on her as she sips her coffee, gently clutching the mug in her palms. When she speaks, he feels clear-headed, the fear flushing out of his system with the alcohol. She’s still in her top, scrunching her nose as she laughs at Morgan, which cracks his poker face into a shy grin.

When Gideon and JJ enter, it’s game time. JJ presents the case. A homicide. A young, wealthy, white couple in Atlanta. Police were called to the scene by one of the unsubs before the crime was being committed. She’s zoned in, inquiring about the police response time. It had been just under five minutes.  

For a moment, he ponders the differences in their affect. Gideon, frustrated with the reason for them being called in, desperate for any and all information he can use to end it. JJ, justifiably upset that another night off has been sacrificed for a brutal criminal. Prentiss, pushing aside her personal sentiments in order to devote her full mind to the case. They all appear determined, yet they carry it so differently. 

Despite her tenacity, he catches her flinch at the mentions of sinners and religious material. He doesn’t have time to read into that now, trying to assess what they are about to step into. They’re on the jet within the hour. 

She’s changed into a button-up and blazer. They pour over the little information they have on the ride. Hotch pre-assigns them to responsibilities, giving them a chance to catch their breaths and to prepare for anything they may find. One thing is clear, they need to be prepared for a change in course. He dispatches her to the morgue to examine the bodies of the victims. She’s not as squeamish as Morgan or JJ, usually okay with this sort of thing. He’s also witnessed her insightfulness, understanding the most reasonable questions to ask the medical examiner and being able to read the body forensically.

When they all reconvene at the station, they present the information they’d gathered . She shares the details she’d obtained from the coroner. The killings were similar to that of animal slaughter consistent with knowledge of farming or hunting. Not abnormal for rural Georgia, but it was something. They note that the killings are efficient, sacrificial. 

He watches her scrawl the most important details from their words on the whiteboard. Her hair falling below her shoulders as she writes.  Gun and holster clinging to her hip, pushing her blazer aside. They discuss the religious aspect. 

He’s just sent JJ and Reid to go talk to a witness when word comes of more victims, sending the rest of them to the scene. Detective Faraday  explains that this scene is different. The victim doesn’t live in the house, he is a handy man. The husband is alive and out of town and the wife is missing. As Gideon mentions infidelity to Hotch, Prentiss pushes through the crowd to get to the body. Morgan follows close behind.  If adultery is the sin the unsubs are claiming here, she’s not sure there’s a happy ending for Mrs. Douglas. 

They head back downstairs to confirm the presence of the camera. A uniformed officer confirms the location of the husband, asking them if they want him brought in for questioning. Gideon shakes his head. “It would be a waste of time. He didn’t do this, and from the looks of it, he probably wouldn’t be able to help us find her.” He steps aside to examine the passage left for them. 

“Prentiss, Morgan,” Hotch calls, head gesturing to the door. He stumbles out the door and they throw their gloves out in the evidence bags. Needing some space from the full house, he pulls them onto the front lawn. “So, let's work this out, what does this new behavior tell us?” His words are gentle but he’s looking at her with urgency. 

Staring back at him, she supplies him with a response. “There was only one unsub this time, uh Raphael alone?” His arms are crossed, not satisfied with her answer, but not upset at her. “Not if he’s the psychotic, he wouldn’t be capable of operating this efficiently.” She agrees, nodding once. “Someone was here who could control himself. Make sure no evidence is left behind.” He keeps his eyes on her, searching for emotion behind her sunglasses. She gives him nothing, maintaining composure and intent on finding the wife.  

Derek highlights the necessity of the phone call for the unsubs, part of the signature. It’s something they are all thinking, but neglect to mention out loud, closing themselves off. He shifts to Morgan. “Have we ever seen this in case history?” Derek says no, explaining the inconsistency between restraint and psychosis. She concurs, “People with extreme psychosis don't often play well with others.” 

He’s certain they’re dealing with one unsub. Gideon rejoins them.  Raphael doesn’t exist, he says, “He’s  an archangel. We’re still not sure about the third voice.” He explains that the unsub sees Mrs. Douglas as Jezebel, an unpleasant death is in her future if it hasn’t already occurred. 

On the drive back into the station, Gideon and Morgan dive into the implications of the themes of sinning. Gideon occasionally gets lost in thought and zoning out for a mile. “Have any of you been trying to reach Garcia?" 

“I tried as we were leaving. I tried JJ as well. Prentiss, you said that you weren’t getting any signal like ten minutes back, right?” Morgan looks to the woman on his right, she gives them all a tired response. “Mm? Oh, yes. Still nothing.”

He gets her in the rear view mirror, staring out the window, biting her lower lip like she had in Nevada. Her eyes glued to the car’s roof, holding back at least one sarcastic comment. He hadn’t seen the case getting to her. He paused to consider that he had seen almost nothing to suggest that it was the case. They hadn’t stopped to rest since their night out and she hadn’t napped on the jet. Morgan and Gideon had been reciting Bible verses back and forth across her for the past hour. And they had piled into one car, none of them smelling particularly great. Well, she smells great, but that isn’t unusual. He knows she has a few scents that she circulates through, all lovely, but all very expensive. Today, she smells sweet like honey and juniper. He holds onto that as they head towards Atlanta.

Back at the station, Morgan confirms that Garcia is running voice analysis on the phone call for the third voice. When she finally gets a hold of them, she tells them a new video has been posted, and it’s already gone viral. This doesn’t fall lightly on any of them.

“Garcia, can you get this on our screens?” Hotch requests with such delicateness, she would even call it a plea. “Already on it, sir” They hear her gasp, assuming she has just accessed it herself. “Oh my sweet… No, no, no.” Looking at the faces of her colleagues, they are visibly hurt by Garcia’s reaction, remorseful that she had to see it. She sits in the bullpen, pulling up the video they were just sent. He follows suit, standing behind her, a bit surprised at her initiative to step up to ensure they stay on task. 

On the screen, this video is worse than they imagined. The unsub is reading from the bible. Mrs. Douglas tied up behind him, being ripped apart by three dogs. Prentiss is sitting at the desk, full view of the screen,Faraday sitting next to her, far enough away to be able to not look at the full screen. Morgan keeps his distance, but above her, Hotch and Gideon lean in. “Jezebel’s death.” 

On the screen, Hotch can see their reflections in front of the video. A look of disgust or shock on all their faces. Not her, she just looks bemused. “My god.” Her voice is steady. She hasn’t looked away, her frown flashes across the monitor.. Gideon and Morgan avert their gaze. Hotch has one hand firm on the back of her chair. “You can turn it off,”he tells her. Faraday grabs her wrist before she can close out. “Wait.” 

Derek recedes further back. “You haven't seen enough?”

He shakes head, moving closer to Prentiss and the screen, causing her to slide to the back of her chair. She can feel him standing over her, a protective hand on the back of her chair. “Those dogs. Those three dogs attacked someone a couple of months ago.” All eyes are on Faraday now. “I would've had them impounded, but the victim knew the owner, a neighbor. He didn't want to press charges.” Gideon lifts his head up, voice deep and shaky. “ You sure?” Faraday continues, proud of himself for recognizing them.  “As God is my witness.” He reaches for one of the notepads on the cluttered desk, flipping through the pages frantically. “Three mangy mixes, I knew those dogs looked sick. Called animal control, I don’t know if they ever followed up. Oh here it is.”

The owner is a man named Tobias Henkel. 

Prentiss looks up at the men towering over her, locking her wide eyes with Hotch’s. “We sent JJ and Reid to go talk to him hours ago.” They don’t know what to say, words stuck in their throats. She takes out her phone. “I’ve been calling them all afternoon, they haven’t picked up, there’s probably not any service out there.” She calls JJ again, letting the stark dialing tone ring. They stay put in their shock as she grabs her bag and files. “Henkel is pretty far out there?” She glances at Faraday just long enough to see him nod. “Okay, uh… We’ll need at least four unis, you all know the area better than we do… and vests. We’ve seen some of what this man is capable of. He’s in a state of psychosis, we don’t want to rush him to another victim. We won’t know until we get there, but if he has JJ and Reid, we need to proceed with extreme caution.” She’s halfway to the car before realizing that no one is behind her. She finds his deep, brown eyes again. He’s berating himself for sending their teammates to danger, he can tell. Come on, she begs him. We have to go. Now.  

“Alright, everyone. You heard Agent Prentiss.” He follows her out to the cars, grateful for her presence of mind while his was blank.

They’re beyond speeding to get to Henkel’s ranch, the sun long gone by the time they get there. Faraday directs them, Gideon and Hotch to the house, she’s going with Morgan to the barn out back. 

They slide into the barn, guns drawn, each taking a wall to move down. Their flashlights catch something. Henkel’s dogs on their sides, each with at least one gunshot.  Morgan keeps going but pauses at the next stall down. His light refracted on the blood and pink organs spilling over onto the barn floor. “Damn.”

Prentiss is walking over to see what he’s fixated on when a voice calls out behind her, hearing a familiar click she knows is from a gun. “FBI. Don’t move.” It’s  JJ. She looks distressed, her hair down, gun out,  aimed straight at them. Prentiss identifies the desperation and panic in her eyes. She’s in survival mode. 

“JJ stop. JJ, down, it’s Morgan and Prentiss. Don’t shoot, it’s okay.” His voice commands and she lowers her weapon. “Are you hurt?” Prentiss moves close to her, grabbing the gun from her hand and using her free arm to stabilize her. JJ’s voice is flat, all of her characteristic pep drained from her hours ago. “Tobias Henkel is the unsub.” 

Morgan sighs, “Yeah, we know.” An officer runs back out to call an ambulance. 

“I mean, we just thought he was a witness,” adjusting her belt, she shakes her head in denial. They look at the dogs among their feet. “I had to kill them,” she says, still not making eye contact.

“JJ, where’s Reid?” She ignores him, rambling on, riddled with disgust at the depravity. “They just completely tore her apart. There's nothing even left.” Morgan steps back, attempting to stifle his frustration with her.

Prentiss takes stock before approaching JJ with focus and authority. Her words cut clear, striking a balance between using kid’s gloves and interrogation tactics. “JJ, look at me. Look at me, where’s Reid?” She shepherds the conversation, leaving no room for JJ to veer off course. “Uh, we split up. He said he was gonna go around back.” Morgan doesn’t miss a beat, leaving them in the barn. “Where are Gideon and Hotch?” 

Prentiss is checking her for signs of injuries. “They’re checking the main house.” Sirens in the background draw her eyes up. She wraps an arm behind her, “Let’s get you out of here, Jayje.” They stumble over to the bus. Prentiss hands JJ off to the EMT rushing to meet them, pulling Faraday aside. Under her breath she asks him to keep an eye on her, he nods. 

Nothing from the men yet, she tries Garcia for a possible trace on Reid’s cell. No signal. She wanders back over to the barn, hoping to at least learn something from the tools Henkel has out there. She’s three steps in, eyes on the dogs again, then she’s called back out. “Agent Prentiss? Agent Jareau is asking for you.”

 She bites her lip hard again and tastes the salty blood flush her teeth. The request makes her feel boxed in. She wants to be able to stay with JJ, her friend, who has been incredibly kind to her since she joined the unit. Her friend who has clearly gone through a trauma and is justifiably not okay. But they also have a case to solve. One involving a deranged psychopath killer who likely has one of their agents. She checks in with Faraday before talking to JJ. “Hey, Is there any sign of him yet?”

It's raining now. She feels the sweat rinse off her cheeks. Under his hat, Faraday shakes his head at her. “We got every one of our units on the road.” She nods, giving some semblance of a response. “He won't make it far.” She knows that isn’t certain.

“They can't find Reid?” She gets closer to JJ, who is sitting in the entrance to  the ambulance, legs dangling off the back. “Not yet.” She smiles slightly, not wanting to provoke her in any way, or trigger her guilt about losing sight of Reid. Her busted lip throbs as it brushes against her teeth. 

“Prentiss.” Morgan calls her away from the paramedics, spotting JJ still half-gone, wrapped in emergency blankets and one of the officer’s coats. He lowers his voice, “I think Reid fled into the cornfield,” he gestures his head to the area behind the barn. “Looks like somebody got dragged.” Fuck, she looks back at him, aware that they both can tell how bad this may be. 

A deputy informs them that a neighboring county’s sheriff reported giving directions to a man who fit Henkels description to a motor inn in Fort Bend. 

Hotch and Gideon appear from the back of the building, neither looking any less frustrated. “JJ okay?” He asks, waiting for one of them to nod back. “Henkel’s long gone. No sign of Reid. I doubt he was ever in the house.” Gideon rubs the tension in his face around with his hands. Hotch looks at her, sensing information missing from their recap. “One of the unis got a message that a man fitting Henkel’s physical and vehicular description asked for directions to a motor inn in Fort Bend. They’re sending two cars.” She tells him.

“Good.”

Behind her, Morgan is forcefully kicking his boots into a bale of hay. “Shouldn’t we go after them as well?” He asks, looking at Hotch only for instruction.

“No, no, let them handle it. It’s likely a diversion. Henkel's too smart to leave a trace like that. The house is a time capsule, we should go through it. If Henkel has barely left in 10 years, there's gotta be something in here of use to us. Something to help us find Reid.” He watches her response to his words. She nods and then clears her throat. “I’m going to finish documenting the situation in the barn.” She’s twisting her watch around her wrist. 

Morgan prevents her from leaving with the back of his hand. “Wait, Prentiss, hold up. Do you want me to come with you? You shouldn’t be going in there alone.” She brushes past him without hesitation. Hotch evaluates the disturbance in Morgan’s intervention. He can only imagine what they had walked into. 

“I’ll be fine, Derek. Henkel’s gone, it’s not like he’s going to be there. We need to get this over with so we can turn it over to local CSI. I really don’t mind.” Knowing there’s no use in arguing with her, the three men watch her as she turns and jogs back to the barn. 

There are still two officers posted by the entrance. From their demeanor, she can tell that they can't bring themselves to step inside. She flashes them a sympathetic grin and steps into the open barn. The air is crisp with chill and freedom. Her eyes dart over to the dogs once more, teeth digging into her busted lip at the thought of JJ firing her weapon at them. This time, she does get a very good look at what Morgan had been so upset at. Organs splayed out in a pool of blood. Obviously human, and obviously fresh given the coloring. Nothing had been left. Fuck this. 

“Prentiss?”

She hadn’t heard his footsteps on the ground approaching, but she did feel them coming up behind her. When he doesn’t say anything more, she figures he’s probably just as disturbed by the scene as Morgan had been. She turns to face him. “Hotchner, I was under the impression that we’d addressed your inability to walk up to someone without acting like a lowlife.” Her words are an attempt to lighten the obvious heaviness in the air. She searches his face for signs that anything she was saying was getting through to him. His eyes narrowed, trained on the depravity beyond her, face all blank and serious. ”Hotch?” 

“Right. Right, sorry.” his expression breaks, revealing a more troubled look. His feet are still planted. 

“No, it’s okay,” she offers. “I’m just sorry you had to see this.”  She gestures behind her hips, flashing soft eyes at him. “I thought you’d be waiting outside. I’ll just need another minute or two, but I am really fine staying here alone.”

Hotch nods.  I know , he concedes. Let me stay anyway. Emily sends him a small grin of acceptance.  She turns back to the stall, snapping pictures on the team’s digital camera from a few angles. “I knew it was bad when Derek was offering to chaperone you, and I figured I’d come check on you when he wouldn’t say anything else.”

“Oh, you didn’t think that was a shot at my sensitivity?” He catches himself almost letting out a laugh. She is nothing if not witty, even at the most inappropriate of times. “Jezebel’s death,” she scoffs, dropping the camera to her hip. “No one deserves that . I mean what is the game here? Find a woman, use her as a pawn in your sick, sacrificial, religious game? It’s beyond sick.” The adrenaline rushed through her forcing words to spill out from her lips. Through her rambling, she pauses to bite her lip and play with her hair and she doesn’t break. Her tone is stern and headstrong, but not emotional. 

He finds her dedicated obsession charming, but he’s smart enough to know that it’s best that he stops her spiral before it goes too far. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll let the officers know.” They move quickly, the breeze hitting their skin as they find the doorway. She pulls him aside before they’re near the others. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Not entirely sure. Officers couldn’t find any sign of them in Fort Bend, we were right to assume it was a misdirection. Henkel’s computer setup is much more intense than we’d expected. I’m bringing in Garcia first thing tomorrow morning.” She nods. “We should get JJ some rest,” he looks over at their friend, still in the middle of a huddle of first responders at the back of the ambulance. 

“We’ll get more done if we stay at the house. That way we can keep an eye on her and keep working. She shouldn’t be alone right now.” She spots a glimpse of fear in his eyes. “Reid is smart. He can hold his own, he’ll be alright.” 

By the time they convince JJ to take the sofa, it’s past 1:00. Morgan is already out on the floor beneath her. She’s alone at the dining room table, pouring over Henkel’s diaries. She’s holding them closer to her face, undeterred by the poor lighting. When he sets a mug down by her wrist he witnesses her real smile for the first time in days. “Coffee?” She beams.   

“No, it’s chamomile, sorry to disappoint. You have a serious problem.” He sits in the chair beside her, a mug of his own held away from the stack of journals between them. Her smile slips into an offended glare. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want milk or honey?” Her brow furrows, deeping her glare, he laughs.

“I wanted coffee. You don’t get to deprive me of feeling joy just because this case is a living nightmare.”

He sips his tea slowly. “I don’t believe anyone else could fault me for denying an obsessive insomniac caffeine at this hour. So yes, this definitely qualifies as a problem, Prentiss.” She scowls and shakes her head, returning to the journals. “You know, they put up cots in the upstairs landing, if you claim one now, you could get at least a couple hours before everyone starts back up in the morning.” He’s tiptoeing. 

“Forget it, Hotch. I am so not sleeping tonight.” She drops her wrist, revealing her whole face. Her cheeks flushed. “Hey, did Haley get home okay the other night? Have you even spoken to her and Jack since we left?” He feels his smile fade. 

“I called her from the jet when we landed and again a couple hours ago. They were already asleep, I left a voicemail.”

Her fingers wrap around the mug in front of her, staring down into hot tea. “Do you ever feel bad?” She rephrases,  “Doesn’t it bother you, not being home, missing all of the ‘Goodnights’?”

He swallows a mouthful of tea. “Of course it does. But when I’m away on a case, I have to be able to set personal troubles aside. When we’re home, I’m there for Jack's bedtime and I call when we’re away. He’s only one, but I’d like to think the effort means something above abandonment to him. I don’t have it down to a science.” He lifts the porcelain mug to his lips, disappointed to find it empty. “I value priorities, but I can’t live with the idea of Jack growing up thinking that I’ll always put work above him. I don’t know, maybe we’re doomed to inherit things from our parents that we swore we’d be better than.” Her face falls down to the ugly linen placemats, trying to appear unaffected by his statements. He considers the opinions on politics she’d hurled at him in her first month in the unit and the time he’d spent in her mother’s office fourteen years ago. “Emily, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything.” She shrugs him off. 

“I know, there’s nothing to imply anyway. Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss is an impressive woman, but she is also my mother.” He narrows his eyes, That wasn’t really an answer. “Besides Hotch, you care enough to try, that’s not worth nothing. You should get some sleep though, it’s been a long day and you’ve got to get Garcia early.” He’s still studying her when she returns to the diaries a minute later. 

She’s right, he should have gone to bed hours ago. He forces himself up to find a cot to fall onto. “Goodnight. At least try to sleep for once.”

Garcia had spent almost every second since she’d arrived in the computer room, but Prentiss and Gideon were in deep. They spend the day moving through the house, combing through milk crates and shelves full of diaries. They don’t speak often, only when necessary.

“Hey,” she perks up. “I have got a list of Narcotics Anonymous meetings with someone’s name and numbers on it, but it looks to be about 12 years old.” Her voice falls.

“Try it. There are no bad leads.” He peels away at the wallpaper revealing words written over and over, recitation punishment. “Is that latin?” She knows that it is. “Honor thy father.” 

They head down to consult with the others. “Go on ahead, I’ll get JJ.” Behind the ajar bathroom door, she hears the faucet run. Her knock on the inside of the door is met with a gun drawn at chest height. “Hey, hey, hey, JJ. It’s me.”  Her stern voice is enough to get her to lower the weapon. “Are you alright?”

“Uh yeah, I'm sorry you scared me.” Her voice is shaky and she won’t make eye contact

.

Recognizing her friend’s jumpiness, she apologizes. “I'm sorry. I'm talking tomorrow morning to some guy who knew Henkel from Narcotics Anonymous. Why don't you come with me, get out of the house?” JJ agrees. “Okay, great.” She walks away to give her some space and privacy to tend to her wounds.

“Emily?”

“Yeah?” Prentiss turns back to find JJ close in front of her.

“How come none of this gets to you?”

She puts confusion in her brows. “What do you mean?” Maybe if she buys enough time, she can change the subject.

“You came off a desk job. Now suddenly, you're in the field surrounded by mutilated bodies and you don't even flinch.” She feels Hotch come up behind her again. Now she’s definitely trapped. 

“She's right,” his quiet voice pulls her to face him. “You’ve never blinked.” He’s close, too close. 

“I guess maybe I compartmentalize better than most people.” She answers only him. Their gazes locked, each searching for hints in the other’s eyes. Another bad answer , he prods. She shoots back, Please, don’t do this.

Before he can unpack her answer, his thoughts are interrupted by Morgan. “Hey guys, I think I got something.” She exhales briefly before chasing them out back. 

They wait for the coroner to retrieve Henkel’s father before heading back in. Tonight, she heads straight for the cots, avoiding niceties. She can see him following her in her periphery, but before he can speak she lies down with her back to him and stares at the wall.

They spend the next day learning more about Tobias, not getting any closer to finding him and Reid. She and JJ had gone to meet with the NA contact that morning. They’d learned that Henkel’s father was extremely abusive, becoming especially violent after his mother left. She was discussing the significance of the intel with Hotch and Gideon when Morgan called them in for Garcia. They see Reid on the monitor screen, alive but tied to a chair in an empty room. 

Prentiss gets closer to Garcia, gasping hard when she sees the bruising on Reid. “He’s been beaten.” In the background she hears Gideon berating Penelope, unloading the guilt he feels for losing Reid onto her. Henkel is asking Reid to choose a victim. He knows they're watching them. 

Tobias’ growls boom across the livestream. “You really see inside men's minds. See these vermin, choose one to die, I'll let you choose one to live.” Reid’s voice is weak, they can barely hear it. “No,” he repeats as Henkel provokes him until he breaks. Tobias tells them the name and address of the woman on the screen, giving Gideon the chance to call and warn her. He instructs the woman to turn off the camera and she complies. 

In response, Henkel shuts off the camera giving them access to Reid without missing a beat. Morgan storms out, Garcia desperately attacks the keyboard, searching for some way to pull the view back up. Gideon, too dumbfounded to speak, staggered out into the hallway. 

There are two new victims within the hour. Slaughtered, same as the others. “I’ve got roadblocks out for a 15 mile radius. Every unit is on the road, but so far nothing.” They move through the scene with annoyance, identifying the new bible verse left for them by Henkel. Gideon tries to get a message to Reid through the Hayes’ video camera. 

The others finish combing through the scene but Hotch pulls Gideon aside. “We’re not getting any closer,” he confesses with a hint of worry that Gideon is virtually devoid of. Even he is not sure if he’s seeking reassurance or Gideon’s informed advice.  

“Reid’s brilliant, he'll figure out how to survive.”

It’s true, though it wasn’t the reassurance he was looking for. “You know,” he bites his lip. “I always take advantage of Reid for his brain, but I never teach him how to deal with things emotionally.”

Gideon isn’t paying him much attention, but offers his sympathy. “You lead by example.” He feels his stomach drop. “Well, what kind of example is that?”

Sensing enough insecurity in Hotch’s tone, Gideon lifts his head to face him. “He'll make it.”

On the drive back, he can’t help but run through his performance as unit chief. He’d like to think that he knows his team, that he matches their needs. But with Reid, it was delicate. He had taken advantage of him lately, especially with the pressure they were getting from Strauss. And then there was Prentiss. He was sure that he wasn’t giving her the support she deserved. She was beyond  holding her own in this case though something was off. It was as if she was too put together. 

While the rest of them had gotten cottonmouth watching Reid’s collapse and resuscitation, she had narrowed the radius of their location drastically. When Henkel pushes Reid to pick one of them to die, he can see her eyes pleading for him to choose her. Me , her lips purse. The prayers go unanswered and he hears his name escape from Reid’s mouth. “He’s a classic narcissist. He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4 ‘Let him not deceive himself in trust, in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.”  She looks at him and their eyes meet again. That isn’t right she tells him, he sends a small nod to her and steps out into the hall. They all follow close behind. “I’m not a narcissist.” 

Gideon is the first to soothe his ego. “Oh come on look, you can’t take anything he says right now seriously.” They talk over each other briefly. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about–”  

“He's trying to identify with him-“ 

“No, no. Stop. Stop. Alright everybody right now, what’s my worst quality?” They look back at him, confused, mouths open. “Okay, I'll start, I have no sense of humor.”

JJ chimes in, “You're a bully.” He nods “ I’m a bully.”

“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes.” He’s heard this from Morgan many times over the years on nights out, it was starting to lose its effect on him. “Right.” He looks to Gideon for another response.

Prentiss beats him to it, “You don’t trust women as much as men.” The sentiment had clearly been brewing for some time. It’s a fair shot, he’ll give her that but it still stings him. Regardless, they have no time to address it now. 

“Okay, good. I'm all these things, but none of you said that i ever put myself above the team, because I don't. Ever. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism and he knew that I would remember that. He also quoted Genesis chapter 23 verse 4, read it.” He hands JJ the bible like he’s submitting it into evidence. 

“I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me proper burial place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.”

Gidepn smirks with pride. He’s sending them a message. 

“He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose”

They quickly decode Reid’s message and identify his location. The moment they arrive at Marshall Plantation they check the cabin. “Clear.” “Clear.” They aren’t there, but they have been. 

They move through the woods on foot, guns drawn. A single shot leads them to Reid, leaning over Henkel. She follows Hotch hurrying to lift him up and steady his weight. She lets him take control. “Are you alright?”

Reid leans deeper into Hotch and she steps back. “ I knew you'd understand.” He wraps his arms around him. They all look on with adoration. She feels awkward as she watches him embrace JJ and then Morgan and Gideon. When he asks for a moment alone with Tobias, they oblige, walking a few yards back to the road. 

Medics on the scene advise them that Reid should be seen by doctors at the nearest hospital. He’s too drained to argue. They send him with JJ and Morgan, but Penelope, riddled with anxiety, tags along. 

“One more night in Georgia won’t kill us.” 

She lets out a shaky laugh, “It won’t, but we are definitely staying in a motel. I’ve spent as much time in Henkel’s life this week as I could possibly bare.” Gideon nods and they pile into the last SUV on the scene.

They’re sitting in the lot of the motel they’d driven past everyday in this case. Parked under the neon sign with the ‘NO’ burned out of the ‘No Vacancy’. Despite the rundown feel of the building, the parking lot was nearly full.  She wouldn’t complain though, they’d certainly stayed in worse places. Hotch has gone in to book the rooms, leaving her and Gideon to sit in tired silence. 

“You did good, kid.” He doesn’t look back to her. 

She stares at the back of his head. Unsure of his exact intentions, even with the compliment, she takes pause. “Oh, uh, really it was the team. Henkel faced a challenge to the beliefs he was indoctrinated with and suffered a psychotic break as a result. You had him nailed to the wall. I’m just glad to have Reid back with us.” She’s rambling too fast and she knows it. 

“Prentiss?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You did good work. Just take the compliment.” His words draw a smile out of her. 

“Right. Thank you, sir.”

Hotch comes back with a handful of room keys. “We’ve got five.”  Handing one to Gideon who takes it as an invitation to turn in. 

“Goodnight. Try not to stir up any more trouble.”

They both bid him goodnight and stifle chuckles  as he lightly jogs to his room. He turns back to her, lowering his tone. “I spoke to Derek. Reid looks much better than before, they’re pretty backed up at the emergency room but he should be discharged soon.” She breathes a sigh of relief. “We can figure out the rest of the arrangements when they get back. Reid can stay with me or Morgan and I figured Garcia would also want to stay with you or JJ.” 

“Excellent profiling skills, Agent Hotchner.” She grins and takes one of the remaining keys. “Truly astounding.”

She’s already headed towards the rooms when he jogs along to catch up with her. “Prentiss, wait.”

WIthout pause or looking back, she slows her pace and they walk side by side. “Yes, sir?”

He taps her forearm lightly, asking her to stop for a second so he can read her face. “This was a demanding case and you threw yourself into it, deep. I just want to know how you’re doing?”. 

He examines the crease in nose, her wide eyes, and the lines on her lips, something he’d gotten used to doing in the few months since he’d really accepted her as a member of his team. Waves of her hair tamed under the neckline of her FBI windbreaker. He certainly didn’t mind the challenge of studying her. She gives him nothing other than slight relief. “Oh, I’m fine, sir. Just really thankful that we were able to get Reid back.” JJ was right, Prentiss had come off a job with almost no field work. He made a mental note to look over her file again when they got back to Quantico. He’ll let it slide for now, he has enough to worry about with JJ and Reid and the inevitable lasting effects this will have on them. “I’m just going to shower. Are you turning in now?” 

He can’t be sure why she asks. “I’m going to get settled and then I’ll probably wait for the others out here.” Her key unlocks her door. 

“I think I’ll join you. The night is still young.”

Prentiss beats him out. Her hair now soaking and tied back but it glows under the streetlight. He finds her sitting on the bench in the courtyard, legs crossed and a heel dangling off the foot lifted in the air. He looks on as her outstretched arm retracts and she takes a drag from the cigarette between her fingers. 

He clears his throat. “Prentiss, it’s just me.” She gestures for him to sit and makes room for him.

When he lets the silence hang for a moment as he stares at her. “I know, I know. ‘These things will kill me.’”

He claims innocence, laughing at her sarcasm, lifting his hands to his chest briefly. He’s brushing the dirt and ash off of his brown jacket, “I wasn't going to say anything.” He looks up to tell her that smoking is in fact not good for her but is met with an offering to him. He shakes his head and she rolls her eyes back at him

It’s her time to size him up, her face softer than it had been in days. “I have to say, this whole ‘casual Hotch’ thing is very entertaining.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Hey, have  you spoken to Jack or Haley?” He looks tired. No, it’s late,  he says.  “Call them now.” She’s pushing him.

He pulls out his personal phone. To his surprise, she answers. “Oh, hi, Honey. No, no, everything is fine… We were able to get Spencer out safely. How are you? How is Jack? Did he go down easy? Oh no, I keep that in his crib… Oh, great. No, I’ll get it done… Saturday night, I got it. … I know it’s late, I just finally got away and I wanted to say Goodnight. Right, I’m sorry.”

She’s absorbing up the conversation with what could be considered admiration for him. Eyes fixed on his, and the twitch in his lip when he’s clearly annoyed. The background almost completely drowned out.

She’s pulled out of it by a concerned “Emily?” She bites at the loose skin near her lower lip. “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you think that people can just… be evil?” His brow furrows. “Do you believe that we are innately good? Or are some people just born evil, in need of saving?”

He thinks back to all of her casual shutters at the mention of sin, finding excuses to leave the room if possible. “Well, I think we’ve seen in this case that committing sin doesn’t equate to being evil.”

Emily lets out a shaky sigh. “Right, I know that, it’s just-” Her voice trails off into a pause and his concerned glare deepens.

They watch their second SUV drive up and hear the engine stop. They search for Reid, grateful to find him stable but not looking much better. The rest of their team was worn out. They meet halfway and Hotch hands them their room keys, Morgan and Reid, JJ and Garcia, they split off with half-hearted “Goodnight”s. 

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight, Emily.”

He watches her flash him a smile and vanish behind the motel door, leaving him alone in the cold.

[auspex]

VtM Fangfest 2024 Prompt 8: The Chariot

Hello! Here is my eighth fic for Fangfest 2024 :)

All my fics will be about characters that are previously established, so you might not have context for everything mentioned or hinted at within :( Feel free to reach out to ask I love explaining!

I've never really posted my writing before so be kind!

my first fic is here

my second fic is here

my third fic is here

my fourth fic is here

my fifth fic is here

my sixth fic is here

my seventh fic is here

This fic is about Sampson, and the last time he ever spoke to Mark. This one will probably be the hardest one to enjoy without context.

Sampson, before Mark's embrace, was Mark's boyfriend. But, he was ghouled and used to spy on Mark to see if he was a suitable candidate for embrace, and had his memory erased often. After Mark's embrace, Mark saved Sampson from dying (long story, keeping it brief) and Mark unintentionally ghouled him in the process. Later, unbeknownst to Mark, Sampson was approached by one of Gaius's contacts to help Mark in kiling his sire, Julius. Sampson also wanted this to happen so he could get the fuck out of the city without being killed as a possible masquerade breach (Julius would definetely have had him hunted down and killed).

Theres a lot more context and history but... we don't have time for a full plot summary. if you aren't familiar with their story you might consider skipping this one... but if you do know them... without further ado...

Sampson leaned up against his truck, waiting for Mark and that other kindred he’d apparently attached himself to, JP. 

Their new neighborhood, East Village was on the outskirts of Detroit and solidly straddled the line between urban and suburban. Most houses had chain link fences, and were kept relatively free of trash. It wasn’t the worst place to live. Sampson couldn’t help feeling guilty when he thought about the others living here; he had enabled two monsters to move in. He could never let himself forget that Mark was a murderer.    

Finally, Mark’s car pulled up. “Took you long enough. It’s almost 8,” Sampson spoke, annoyed, as both kindred exited the car. JP for his part looked deranged as always, but thankfully stayed behind Mark. 

“I know, I’m sorry. We had to pick something up that we had left on my territory. Uh, but thanks for meeting me.” Mark gave one of his ‘I’m trying hard to be normal’ smiles. 

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He held out the house key. “Well, there you go. I left the deed inside.” 

Mark took the key. “Thank you Sampson. Uh, how are things with you?” 

Sampson stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked out to the road. “Good enough. Yeah.” He took a deep breath. Time to tell him. He wished JP weren’t here. “So. I’ll be leaving town at sunrise.” 

“What?” 

Mark looked shocked, as he expected. He pushed through conflicting feelings and kept his voice steady. “You know I wanted to leave.” 

“Yes, but this soon?” 

“Yeah. Your sire’s dead. I can leave without him sending goons to hunt me down. So I’m going.” 

There was silence for a moment. JP cut in, thank god. It was hard to relax with him there. “Hey uh, Mark, why don’t you give me the key?” Before waiting for a reply, JP took it from Mark’s unmoving hand and turned towards the house. “Nice to meet you and good luck Sampson, um. Thanks for everything. Bye. Good luck Mark. See you inside, uh, soon.” 

He shuffled away towards the house. Sampson and Mark were left standing outside.

Sampson released his held breath, but Mark spoke first, fast now. “Now hang on Sampson, I know you wanted to go but everything is happening really fast, things are uncertain, and I-” 

Here we go. “You what? Can’t promise it's safe for me to go? You can’t promise me safety, period. This is the best time. Or, fuck, even if its not, I’ve gotta chance now and I can’t wait any longer. Neither can Kaylee. It’s killing her, being here, knowing you and others are around.” He glanced over his shoulder, as if someone could be watching them right then. “I’m, uh. Man.” He sighed. “Look Mark, I hope your sire’s death is good for you too. But I was trying to get out, that’s why I helped you do that, and now I can. So I’m going. There’s no reason for me to stay.” 

“Could you wait until I’m a bit more settled? I-” 

Sampson grimaced at that - did he not realize they couldn’t be friends, that they were not friends? “No. I’m leaving. And this is goodbye.” 

“I.” Mark’s face fell. “I can’t believe it. I mean! I know you wanted to go and I support you in that, you know I do, it's just I didn’t think it’d be so soon. I just, don’t know. I don’t really even know what I’m going to do, yet, I’ve just been taking it one step at a time.”

“Then fuck, you’ve got to figure it out. You don’t need me for that - I don’t even think I could help with that. Oh, here’s another key for you. To The Forgetful. Whoever that monster is who helps manage your territory can run the damn bar now. I guess. Or you can. It doesn’t matter. Hell, you could even rename it.”

Mark stared at the key for a moment before carefully picking it up from Sampson’s outstretched palm. “I. Ok. Sampson, I…” 

“Don’t, Mark. Just let this be the end. Don’t contact me.” 

Mark opened his mouth in shock. “But, wait, why not? I would just want to make sure you’re ok, I wouldn’t ask for details, or anything.” 

“No. I’m changing my number. Might even change my name. Don’t try and find me.” 

Mark spluttered a bit. “What? I. Okay. Okay fine. Take my number at least. Okay. Why don’t you take mine at least?” 

Sampson sighed as he observed Mark scribble his number down in a notebook he had in his bag, rip it out and hand it to him.

He took it wordlessly. No way he’d ever call. 

“There, so, just call me if you need anything. You’re really leaving tonight? Where will you go?” 

“You don’t gotta worry about that anymore.” 

“What about Lucky?” “Not your problem anymore either. Don’t worry about shit to do with me, Mark. It’s my life. I’m trying to go live it. Go enjoy your l- er, whatever the fuck you have.” There was no longer any venom in Sampson’s voice, but no love either. The situation was just sad. He ran a hand over his head and sighed. “Look, I am thankful, ok? You sure fucked up a lot but you could have done way worse by me, and well. I survived. I have another chance in life, and you could have tried to stop me from doing that, but instead you helped. So thank you for that, Mark.” 

“I… of course Sampson. You know I, I would do so much for you. If you only asked. I didn’t want things to be like this.” 

“I know.” Mark was always saying that, as if it really meant anything. 

For a minute, the only sound was the echo of cars, streets away, and a dog’s solitary bark.

Sampson broke the silence. “Is there anything you need to ask me? I really am about to leave.” He wasn’t about to get emotional around Mark. 

“I, I mean, I guess not. Not much anyway. Do I have to worry about whoever was helping you get me that stuff I needed to break the bond?” “No.”

“Ok. That’s good I guess. Um.” “Anything else?” “I mean.” Mark struggles with his words, but eventually simply blurts out: “What do you think of me, really?” 

Sampson paused for a moment, thinking. “That you’re in an impossible situation. A bad one.” Sampson blew air out of his lips, making a ‘pfft’ sound. “And, well damn, I feel bad for you, but like how you would feel for a stranger going through it, y’know. Plus the whole ‘you suck people’s blood until they die’ thing. And I want nothing to do with it.” 

“Right.” 

Let Mark sit with that for the rest of his existence, as he lost the shell of who he was and fully became a monster. If Sampson was a braver man, if he really wanted to do something to help out the man Mark used to be, he’d really kill Mark now.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do that - Mark was too similar to how he had been when he was alive, even if Sampson would never forget that he had murdered someone. 

“Anything else?” 

“No. I understand that you have to go. So, this is goodbye?” Mark had his characteristic mask up; his voice was detached, and formal. “That I do. Yeah. You won’t see me again but I wish you the best.” Sampson wasn’t sure if he was lying, but he held out his hand for a handshake anyway. 

Mark took a moment to compose himself before returning the handshake. “Thanks for everything that you did for me. I am here if you ever need. Don’t lose that number. Please.” 

“Mmm. Goodbye, Mark.” Sampson met his eyes for a moment. 

He felt Mark’s cold hand slip away as he released it. “Goodbye, Sampson.” 

With that, Sampson quickly turned, went into his truck, and without a second glance, drove away. Mark was left on the driveway fighting back tears. 

Mark stood there for a moment, watching Sampson’s truck get further and further down the road. Soon, Sampson couldn’t make him out in his rear view mirror. 

All that was left was to pick up Kaylee. And they could both get out of this city.  

[moon-spirit-yue]

Once Upon a Time, In a Land Far Away...

(So remember when I said I wouldn’t make an OUAT au? I was a liar. However, I am ending this fic after the first season or perhaps season two because ya girl can’t be writing all that. TW SMALL FIGHT SCENE IN THE BEGINNING ILL MAKE THE TW OBVIOUS!

READ THE NEW NAMES BECAUSE YOU WILL BE VERY CONFUSED IF YOU SKIP THIS! Raya’s Storybrooke name is Rose, Namaari’s is Natasha, Virana’s is Vanessa, Benja’s is just Ben, Sisu’s is Suki, Boun’s is Brian, Noi’s is Naomi, and Tong’s is Thomas. Please enjoy!)

“What the hell happened? I thought you managed to get lost or something,” Namaari hissed the second Raya came back into the room.

“It’s so much worse than we were hoping. Snow went into labor before they could finish the portal. The baby is being sent to this other world by herself,” Raya told her in a frenzied manner.

“Oh my god,” Namaari whispered, absolutely horrified.

“I just, I need to sit down,” Raya stated warily as she all but collapsed on the couch near the door.

Namaari shot up from the bed and rushed to Raya’s side. Just like she always does. Raya can always count on her.

“What does this mean?” Namaari asked worriedly.

“It means that Emma’s going to need to find a way to break the curse all on her own,” Raya sighed as she buried her face in her hands.

Namaari wrapped her arms around Raya and pulled her close. Immediately, Raya returned the embrace and squeezed tightly. 

The Heart woman never wants to let go of her. Namaari. Her wife. But now she doesn’t have a choice.

When the Evil Queen threatened Snow White and Prince Charming on their wedding day, everyone was on edge. The Evil Queen does many things, but make empty threats are not one of them.

Snow knew the only way to guarantee the safety of the kingdom and her unborn child was to consult with Rumplestiltskin. Then they discovered that Snow White and Prince David’s daughter would be some magical curse breaker for them all. The original goal was to put Snow in the tree trunk so that she could raise the little princess curse free due, to the fact that there’s only enough magic to send one person. They just couldn’t make the tree fast enough. 

“I can’t believe this. I run from Druun for six years, and now it’s all ruined because some bitch who’s in an eternal battle with her step daughter wants to even the score,” Raya spat.

She had to be angry. If she wasn’t enveloped in rage, she’d breakdown in tears, which wasn’t very appealing at the moment.

“Look, we’ve been through a hell of a lot in our lifetime, and we will get through this too,” Namaari assured her.

“I don’t understand how you could possibly be so confident about that. We’re putting our hopes, our lives, in the tiny hands of a baby that hasn’t even been alive for a full day. That’s too much of a burden for anyone to bear,” Raya huffed. She speaks from personal experience, after all. 

“I know it is, but Rumplestiltskin already prophesied this all from the beginning. Which means that as long as Emma can escape, we've all got a chance," Namaari assured her.

Raya sighed and took a glance at the window. She has no idea where this curse is going to take them. Nobody does. They're at an utter disadvantage. The most information Raya's gotten from it is that everyone's memory is going to be wiped.

“I’m sorry I’m being so negative about this. You’re going to be cursed too, I should at least be attempting to comfort you,” Raya sighed, feeling so utterly defeated. “I just have no idea how we can make it past this.”

“Hey, you’re the most hopeful woman I’ve ever met. I mean, you hoped for six years that a dragon could bring your father back, and you were right. You hoped for all of a Kumandra. I can hope for us both right now. That’s what marriage is. Helping each other when the other is struggling,” Namaari told her. 

Toi, Raya is so in love. She didn’t know it was possible to feel so much adoration for one person until Namaari. The Heart princess simply gave her wife a kiss. One that Namaari immediately returned.

“I’m going to miss this. Something tells me that in this cursed land, we won’t be newly weds,” Raya sighed, pulling Namaari in for a hug.

“You might be right about our marital status, but I’ll still be in love with you. I always have been, and I always will be. There are some things not even magic can change,” the Fang princess said in a soft, comforting voice. 

“Yeah? Well if someone as lame as you can manage to love me in a cursed land, I bet I can love you so much more. Because, you know, I’m a lot cooler than you are,” Raya mumbled, trying not to cry her eyes out. 

“As if. I’ll love you so much in this cursed land, you’ll be embarrassed at how lacking you were when the curse gets lifted,” she heard Namaari huff out.

“You know what? If you can somehow manage to get Rumplestiltskin off my back in the cursed land, I just might agree,” Raya snorted.

“Please. That guy’s like three feet tall. I can totally get him to back off from you in the new world. If I have to keep Rumplestiltskin away, then you have to help me deal with my mother. I bet she’s going to be especially difficult in the cursed land,” Namaari scoffed. 

“I think we have ourselves a deal, binturi,” Raya giggled.

At that moment, David rushed into the room and quickly closed the door behind her. He was holding Emma in one arm and his sword in the other.

"My god, what the hell's happening out there?" Raya blurted as she and Namaari both stood up from the couch.

"The queen's guards. They infiltrated the castle. They're...there's so much more than just me. I don't know how I'll get past them all," the prince rambled while trying to catch his breathe.

"In and out David, in and out. Look, we've got your back. Raya and I will have gladly go out there to offer some backup," Namaari assured him.

"I can't ask you to do that," David said, trying to shoot the idea down.

"Hey, your fate isn't the only one that depends on getting her to this other world before the curse does. Besides, it's been a while since I've had a good fight," Raya smirked, trying to not panic at whatever was beyond those two doors.

"Hey, we sparred four days ago," Namaari reminded her with a frown.

"I know what I said," Raya grinned, feeling her nerves ease little bit more. It's like just looking at her wife is good for her health.

"Okay, less flirting, more preparing for battle," David reminded them.

"That's fair," Raya conceded as she grabbed her sword.

Namaari did the same. They never did go anywhere without a sword. That probably says something about themselves.

"Alright. We're good," Namaari nodded.

"Pause. I want a kiss for good luck," Raya told her.

Though no one was willing to say it outloud, they all knew that it was very possible this could be the last time any of them see each other. That's probably why David had no objection when Namaari used her free hand to cradle Raya's face and give her a deep kiss. Raya decided she liked that kiss so much that there was no way it'd be their last.

"I love you," Raya smiled as her wife pulled away.

"I love you too," Namaari whispered fondly.

Then a loud crash resounded from the outside, causing the trio to face the door with a deathly grip on their swords. When they decided no one would be breaking in, Raya and Namaari stepped out in front of David to take on whatever battle awaited them.

There were six guards at the end of the hall. They didn't look like they had a clue where they were going. Raya's pretty damn sure she could take these guys, especially with her badass wife beside her.

"Go ahead David, we'll hold them off," Namaari told him.

"Dep la, I was going to say that! Can you read my mind?" Raya grinned.

"I just know you too well, my love," Namaari responded with a small smile of her own.

"Thank you, I'm eternally in debt to the both of you. And for god's sake, focus on the fight instead of flirting!" the prince exclaimed before rushing off to send Emma into the wardrobe.

"Tell Emma Auntie Raya and Auntie Namaari love her!" Raya yelled as David sprinted away.

(TW WARNING START)

Okay, the Queen's armed forces were now right in front of them. No biggie. The first guy that came up to her was a cinch to beat. A solid kick in the chest made him slam against the wall and knock the guy out cold. Poor bastard must have been new.

Namaari was dealing with her own trio of guards as the remaining two ganged up on the Heart woman. They were fast, but clumsy. One guard managed to nick Raya's eyebrow and nose bridge. While it wasn't going to do any lasting damage, it'd certainly leave a mark. The force of their hits meeting air kept them off balance enough to give Raya a chance to swipe back.

She checked the corner of her eye to make sure Namaar was doing well and of course, she's beating their asses. After a couple good stabs through skin, Namaari knocked the other three off thier feet.

Raya had managed to stab the last guy in the leg when his guard was down. Hah. These guys are really bad fighters. Then she heard Namaari groan.

"Hey, do you think that," Namaari began, before she lunged herself at Raya.

A Queen's guard jumped out of the shadows and came hurtling to Raya when her back was turned. Namaari was able to interfere, but the guard just moved the blade the side and sliced Namaari's arm clean off. Raya's wife collapsed to the floor, crying from pure agony.

With absolutely zero hesitation, Raya raised her sword and pummeled it straight through the guard's heart. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Then left nothing for Raya to focus on except for her wife. She quickly took off her waist band and firmly tied it around the edge of the spot where the arm was cut off to prevent further blood loss. She's honestly not sure how she did it with her tears blurring her vision.

Once the band was tight enough, Raya moved Namaari so that her head was resting on Raya's lap. The screaming had stopped, there was only a pained whimper was coming from her now.

(TW WARNING STOP)

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Namaari, you have to stay awake, do you understand me? If I have to live through this stupid curse, then so do you!" Raya sobbed.

This can't be happened. They've been married for what, a month? It didn't matter that there was a curse or everyone would be miserable, Raya wanted to be cursed and miserable with Namaari. For the rest of their lives. One month is not enough.

"You're...so bossy. Even now," Namaari mustered out.

Raya couldn't hold back the extra tears seeing Namaari in so much pain from such a simple sentence. She's trying so hard to stay awake.

"Thanks for the defense back there. That guy totally would have sliced right through my heart if you hadn't done anything," Raya whispered, tears still stubbornly streaming down her face.

"I know. I'd rather lose an arm than lose you," Namaari said.

"I wish you didn't have to lose one at all," Raya told her honestly.

"Will you still love me even if I only have one arm?" Namaari blurted.

God, how stupid is this woman?

"That may have been the most ridiculous shit you've ever said in your entire life, Namaari. Of course I'll love you without the arm. Besides, you've seen what dragon magic can do with those metal arms. Once this curse business is settled, you can get a magical metal arm and you're gonna look so badass," Raya choked out with a small smile on her lips.

"You think I'd look hot with a metal arm?" Namaari grinned.

Even though the reason why is so painfully stupid, Raya's just happy to see that smile.

"Duh. I think you'd look hot with anything. Do you think I'll look hot with the eyebrow and nose scar? The wounds are kind of deep," Raya sniffled.

"You're always hot. The scars will add to it. I wanna kiss them when they're healed," Namaari mumbled, seeming to drift off.

"Aye! Stay with me, One Armed Wonder!" Raya snapped.

"Did you just call me One Armed Wonder?" Namaari mumbled incredulously.

"Too soon?" Raya sheepishly asked.

"I want that engraved on my metal arm," Namaari decided with a giggle.

Raya laughed a bit too. It's so hard to laugh knowing that the love of her life is in so much pain and there's nothing she can do about it.

The ground began to shake. Raya looked out the window to see the black and green fog slowly take over the whole kingdom.

"It's coming," was all Raya managed to say.

"Kiss me," Namaari said.

And how can Raya say no to that?

Raya leaned down and pressed a soft but firm kiss on Namaari's lips. She's feels so safe in the kiss. Even when the world is ending. No one's ever made Raya feel the way Namaari does. No one else ever will.

Raya gently broke away and gasped as the shaking grew more intense. Raya leaned over Namaari in order to protect her body from any more potential injury.

"I love you," Raya yelled as the fog approached.

"Love...," Namaari trailed off.

She was way too weak. It was a miracle the Fang warrior lasted this long. But that's okay, Raya doesn't need her to say it out load to know she means it.

All she could do was hold her wife tightly as they were swept into a land where they were never married in the first place.

************************

(27 years later)

Roseline Heart woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Literally. There’s a spot on the mattress that has the spring sticking out because of how old it is and it ended up cutting Rose’s cheek. Now there’s a thin trail of blood coming from her face. Fantastic.

Groggily, Rose helplessly grabbed around for her glasses and shuffled to the bathroom. She’s pretty sure this is where the bandaids are. After actually putting on the glasses, success was Rose’s as she managed to get her hands the hello kitty band aid box. After cleaning up the cut as best as she could, she put her bright pink band aid on and headed out to the kitchen.

“Morning Sunshine! How’s-” Suki began before noticing bright ass bandaid on Rose’s face. “Okay, seriously, you gotta replace that mattress. Someone’s gonna call the sheriff on me for domestic violence if you keep this up!”

“Someone’s dramatic. I just forgot to put a thick pillow over it like usual. No big deal,” Rose said with a dismissive flick of the wrist.

“It feels like you never remember the pillow. Besides, you've already got a couple scars on your face. No reason to add on another,” Suki huffs while handing her an apple.

“Aye, don’t sass the hand that’s gonna be dying your hair blue tonight,” Rose warned. 

Suki simply stuck her tongue out at her and began rummaging through the cabinets to find some of her cereal. 

Suddenly a loud, obnoxious knocking at their door caused both girls to groan.

“You get the door, I’ll get the checkbook,” Rose said in defeat.

“You got it, bestie,” Suki huffed while headed to the door. 

Rose heard the door open as Suki made idle chit chat with their intrud- guest. Beloved landlord. She found the checkbook resting on her living room couch. Rose grabbed a pen, wrote out her check, and tore it off the booklet. 

“Mr. Gold. What a joy it is to see your wrinkly face so early in the morning,” Rose deadpanned.

“You’ve always known how to charm a man, haven’t you?” Gold mocked.

“Considering the fact that I’m a lesbian, I really hope not,” Rose grumbled while handing him the check. 

Mr. Gold examined it, front and back, before deciding it was sufficient.

“Well, everything seems to be in order. As per usual,” Mr. Gold spat. “I’ll leave you girls to your morning, then. Ms. Datu, I’ll be expecting your half of the rent on the first,” Mr Gold told her.

“And that is when you will receive, sir,” Suki said with an uncomfortable polite smile.

“Wonderful. I’ll be off then. Have an excellent day, Dearie,” Mr. Gold smirked. 

With that, he walked right of their apartment without bothering to close the door. Rose scowled and slammed the door shut. God, she wanted to take that cane from his hand and bash his face in with it. 

Will Rose ever understand what Gold’s problem is with her? No. No she will not. Rose just doesn’t get it! She’s an excellent tenant. She’s never been late for a payment. Not once. Hell, sometimes she gives Sisu extra cash in case she falls short with her rent money.

Yet somehow, Mr. Gold is never satisfied with her stellar reputation. In fact, he seems to be quite irritated whenever Rose manages to deliver the rent. Which is every time he asks for it. In simpler words, Mr. Gold is always pissed at Rose and there is nothing she can do about it. Rose wins none and loses all.

It used to make woman want to rip her hair out from pure frustration. Here she is, always giving rent when she needs to and she smells like flowers all the time! What more could a landlord want?! 

It wouldn’t be such an issue if he treated everyone else like this. But he doesn’t. Of course, just like any other landlord, he expects his tenants to pay rent on time and he tends to be a no nonsense kind of guy. But Mr. Gold’s willing to negotiate with others. He’s fine with coming to a compromise of some sort. But if Rose were to have issues?

She’d be on the streets faster than you can say ‘what a jackass’.

It’s not like there’s anything Rose can do about it, either. The only person that could match up to Mr. Gold in the realm of power in this town is Regina Mills, the mayor. Unfortunately, Mr. Gold has some sort of in with Mayor Mills, so Rose is totally screwed. 

But, well, Rose has accepted her status as Gold Enemy Number One. Nothing she can do about it now.

“God, I hate that guy. Why the hell can’t he just lay off your back?” Suki scowled. 

“Question of the century, truly. Think you can pick up some fruit while after work? Seems like we’re running low,” Rose asked her roommate.

“Got it. You better get dressed girl, aren’t you opening the store today?” Suki asked.

“Yeah, I need to move it,” Rose sighed while rushing into her room to get ready. 

Rose hastily put on a green long sleeve shirt and blue jeans that were way too big for her, held up by a dark brown belt. She flew in and out of the bathroom in record time. Once she grabbed her satchel like bag, she was ready for work. 

“Have fun, don’t hurt yourself!” Suki yelled as Rose put on her beat up sneakers. 

“If anyone’s gonna hurt themselves today, it’s you. See you later!” Rose yelled as she exited the apartment. 

Speed walking out of the building, Rose was so lost in her own world that she almost didn’t comprehend the fact that she nearly torpedoed into Mary Margaret. 

“Crap, sorry! I had a late start today,” Rose apologetically stated.

“Oh it’s no problem, Rose. You know, I was actually hoping I would run into you today. I’ll be super quick, I promise,” Mary Margaret said. 

“Yeah, for sure. What’s up?” Rose asked.

“Would you be able to tutor a kid in my class? His name is Henry, same age as Naomi, and he’s a really great kid. He’s just going through a bit of a hard time. He’s also a very quick study, the only reason why his grades have been slipping is because he lacks focus. His mother insisted on him getting a tutor and she has every intention of paying you. I only ask because of how great you are with Naomi and how much her grades improved after your tutoring,” Mary Margaret pleaded.

Huh. Rose really can't remember much of Namoi's progress. Well, Mary Margaret is her friend and a little extra cash couldn’t hurt. Besides, if she can help a kid out what’s the harm?

“That can work. I’m free after 4:30 on Mondays and Wednesdays, does that work out?” Rose asked. 

“Oh that’ll be perfect! I can not thank you enough! Think it can start today?” Mary Margaret asked with hopeful eyes.

Rose frowned and checked her phone to come to the discovery that today is, in fact, Wednesday. Shit, all the days blend together.

“I can do that, I just need to text Suki that I’ll be home late,” Rose responded. 

“You are seriously saving my life, thank you. Okay, meet me at Granny’s Diner at about 4:45 so that you two can get started,” Mary Margaret informed her.

“Granny’s at 4:45, on it. Alright, I gotta scatter before Moe has my head. See you later, Mary!” Rose yelled as she began a light jog to her car.

“Bye Rose! Thanks again!” Mary Margaret yelled.

Rose smiled and waved as she continued her jogging pace. The moment she got into her car, the pedal was to metal. Though she may have broke a couple speeding laws, Rose made it to work a whole two minutes early. 

Once she hopped out of her car that should have been thrown the in the dump years ago, Rose opened the door to her beloved place of work. 

Game of Thorns is her happy place. Surrounded by the soothing aromas of tulips and lilies, arranging the flowers to compliment each, and just staring at all the plants gives Rose a sense of peace. Besides, since the owner Moe French hates Mr. Gold, the old snake can’t set foot in this place. Here, Rose has solace. 

Mostly.

There is, of course, the fact that Natasha Fang is one of the shop’s biggest customers. 

The name Natasha is very fitting. Similarly to a gnat, Natasha does everything in her power to be as big of a nuisance to Rose as possible. The name quite literally speaks for itself.

Unfortunately, that would be very bad for business. The shop could just get rid of every single customer except for Natasha and they would still be kept afloat. She always orders in bulk and tips well, which is the only good thing Rose can say about her. 

Natasha is just so.....awful! Rose will never forgive how that woman betrayed her. Natasha and her stupid undercut can take a long walk off a short pier. 

“Rose, how are you on this fine morning?” Moe French asked as he walked through the door. That’s one way to snap Rose out of her thoughts.

“Morning Moe. I’m okay. I got my daily dose of Gold today, which was super fun for me,” Rose huffed as she set up the register.

“Ugh, that old bastard has no business harassing you! So what if he’s your landlord? He still has a job to treat his tenants with basic respect!” Moe rambled as he began to reorganize the flowers. 

“You are preaching to the choir, my friend,” Rose sighed. 

The two worked quietly together in order to set up the space for opening. Only a couple of customers came in the shop before Rose saw an unnecessarily flashy sports car parked right in front of the shop.

“The gnat is flying in!” Moe hissed when he also noticed this specific car.

Rose quickly retreated to the back room. It’s their fun little code word for saying that Natasha, the worst person ever, was entering the shop. Moe and the rest of Rose’s coworkers all understood the complicated dynamic between the two girls. Said dynamic being Natasha tries aggravating Rose at every possible opportunity while Rose does everything in her power to avoid her.

Rose is very grateful that her colleagues had her back and were willing to talk to Natasha instead. Does Rose realize that it's petty and childish to run from her problem? Yeah. But it works and gives Rose a better peace of mind.

"Mr. French, good to see you today," Rose heard Natasha say as she walked into the shop.

"Ms. Fang! And you as well. What can I do for you?" her boss asked.

"I'll need the usual, please. Carnations instead of peonies this time, though. One of our clients is obsessed with peonies so I'm trying to play to my audience. If you guys can help deliver them this Friday, that would be great," Natasha informed him. (Probably with her stupid fake smile.)

"Of course we can! Come on, I'll ring you up!" Moe excitedly stated as the footsteps got closer.

Ugh, Rose wishes Moe could be as anti Natasha as he was anti Gold. The girl does drop a lot of cash for this store at his core, Moe French is a business man. Rose knew this business would not be half as good without Natasha's participation. Doesn't mean she had to like it, though.

"Thank you for your business!" Moe said. Rose could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"Of course, Mr. French. I'll see you on Friday, Heart," Natasha said with way too much glee.

Though no one could see it, Rose scowled. She worked full time. When the shop is open, Rose is working. Of course Natasha knows that.

The young florist waited until she heard the door close before reentering the main part of the shop.

"I wanna punch her in her stupid face," Rose blatantly stated when she excited the room.

"All she'd need to is grab you with her prosthetic arm and it'd be over for you," Moe reminded her.

"Well I would have made the experience very stressful for her," Rose grumbled as she got back to work.

"I'm sure you would have, Rose," Moe nodded.

Rose internally groaned and mentally prepared herself for this Friday. Even it's only two days away, she needs all the help she can get. Rose is positive she doesn't work at the only flower shop in the world, so why can't Natasha go to literally any other?

It doesn't even matter. Rose is just going to do what she always does. Talk to Thomas exclusively, hide behind the flowers whenever Natasha's in eyesight, and teleport out there before any interaction can occur. It's in everyone's best interest.

The day droned on as usual. Moe decided to close up shop today, so Rose was able to get to Granny's Diner a tad earlier than expected. She saw Mary Margaret already at the diner, which was very convenient.

Rose walked up to the table where she was sitting and saw the kid also sitting with Mary Margaret. Huh, so the whole gang is here.

She was about to introduce herself when she caught sight of the woman sitting next to Henry. Can anyone explain why the ever loving fuck the mayor is sitting next to this little boy?

Rose gave the teacher a look and jutted her head to the side which is the nonverbal cue of 'get the hell over here right now'.

Mary Margaret, being used to Rose, knew what she was getting at walked over to greet her.

“Mary,” Rose said in an eerily calm tone.

“Yes, Rose?” Mary Margaret asked in a meek voice.

“Please do not tell me that Henry’s last name is Mills,” Rose hissed.

“Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t honest before, but he really needs the help and I was worried you’d judge him before meeting him!” the teacher exclaimed.

“I’m not judging him, I’m judging whether or not I’ll be able to even live in Storybrooke!” Rose snapped. “I can not afford to make this kid upset, Mary. I’ve already got Gold on my back for, I don’t know, breathing! If I manage to get on Mayor Mills’ bad side, I will quite literally have no choice but to leave town!”

“Rose, please, he’s not that kind of kid. Besides, one of the things he’s been struggling with is the relationship with his mother. Just give it a shot. One day trial. If you really think you can’t do it, then fine. But please, just try,” Mary Margaret begged.

Rose sighed at the kid that seemed absolutely miserable sitting next to his own mother. Just looking at him, Rose does feel bad for the little guy. And it’s not like Rose has anything better to do on a Wednesday afternoon...

“Fine. One day,” Rose agreed. 

“You are a god send! Okay, get ready to meet the family!” Mary Margaret whispered as she tugged on Rose’s arm. “Mayor Mills! Henry! Here’s this fantastic tutor I was telling you guys about.”

Madame Mayor looked Rose up and down, examining her like she’s trying to decide whether she’s worthy of being in her and her son’s presence. 

“Regina Mills. This is my son, Henry. Thank you for taking time out of your day to help him,” the mayor said in a drawled sort of voice. Then, Mayor Mills stuck her hand out to shake. 

“Roseline Heart. Everyone calls me Rose. It’s a pleasure to make both of your acquaintances,” Rose said with a polite smile. 

Rose then stuck her own arm out to shake. When she made contact with the mayor’s hand, Rose felt a vice like grip in the handshake. But she would not be the one to back down. As previously stated, she really can’t afford to. 

“Firm handshake. Wonderful,” the mayor said as she let go with smile. 

Rose isn’t sure exactly what kind of smile the mayor’s flashing, but she knows for a fact it’s not a genuine one. 

“Well, with that I will be off. The job of Mayor never stops. Behave Henry. I love you. And for heaven’s sake, actually pay attention to what she says please,” the Mayor told her son. 

After planting a quick kiss on her son’s forehead, the mayor was off. Probably to make an innocent man cry. 

Rose stared at Henry. Henry stared right back. 

“So. You wanna play go fish and every time you lose, we have to actually focus on your school work?”

At the prospect of a game, the boy’s eyes lit up with excitement. 

“Uh, yeah!” he grinned as Rose brought out a deck of cards to shuffle.

It may seem stupid, but it works. Rose challenges Naomi to a battle of go fish all the time when she needs to get work done. The ability to make homework fun tends to make kids more inclined to comply. 

Rose decided that she likes Henry after his mother picked him up. Mary Maragaret’s probably right. Just a good kid with a rough relationship with his mom, likely due to her job. 

There’s just one more stop to Rose’s journey before heading home.

Rose took slow steps to Storybrooke’s general hospital where she briefly passed by Dr. Whale. After a quick greeting to the physician, she entered the hallway where the patients reside.

Calmly, Rose sat at the chair right at her father’s bedside. Without saying a word, Rose held his hand stared at his expressionless face.

God, what she wouldn’t give for just one expression to overcome her father’s face. Rose’s father has been comatose for who even knows how long. Dr. Whale insists there’s hope, but that may just be his way of sustaining his paycheck. 

She wants her father back. More than anything, Rose wants her father to open his eyes. 

But just like every single day before, Ben Heart does not open his eyes. He lays on the bed, still as a statue as he always does. Nothing has changed.

Rose mustered up the courage to tell her father about her day because maybe, just maybe, he’s listening. Once there was nothing more to say, she got up to drive back home.

As she left her father’s room, she looked to the side and saw yet another face that has yet to move. John Doe, he’s been in a comatose state for about as long as her father as, and no one’s ever claimed him. Talk about a bad break. 

Rose figured it’d be best to leave before she gets too wrapped up in all the depressing thoughts. She managed to get home in one piece where Suki is waiting for her.

“Hey bestie! How’s your day?” Suki asked.

“The Henry kid is nice. I’ll continue tutoring him. Other than that, you know how my day went. Same as every other day.”

************************

(one year later)

Rose was scrolling through instagram on her phone, waiting for Henry to show up at Granny’s like usual. The kid was running late, which really isn’t like him. Rose contemplated calling him before the young boy burst through the doors.

“Hey Rose!” Henry exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.

Rose had to say, she’s surprised. She’s never seen Henry so....happy? Vibrant? Not utterly depressed?

“Hi Henry! What’s got you looking so positively gleeful after a long day of school?” Rose smiled.

“I’m not sure you can handle it,” Henry shrugged.

“Uh, I absolutely can,” Rose interjected. 

“Whatever you say. Just know I won’t be offended when you won’t believe a word I say,” Henry sighed.

With that, the little nine year old boy plopped a thick leather book on the table. It was definitely old and had beautiful golden lettering with the words ‘once upon a time’ written on it.

“Oooo, fairytales? I loved this stuff as a kid. What about this is unbelievable?” Rose asked.

“I know this going to be a lot to digest and like I said, you won’t have to believe me. Have you ever wondered why the clock never moves? Why you can’t seem to remember just about anything from their past? Why no one ever leaves this town?” Henry inquired mysteriously. 

“Uh, one is that your mother never hires anyone to fix the clock, two is just an age issue, and three is because we’re all too lazy or like this town,” Rose explained.

“All of your answers are incorrect! It’s actually because this whole town is cursed!” the young boy whispered.

Rose blinked once. Twice. Three times.

“Okay, I realize I’m not exactly in the height of my life right now, but I wouldn’t say I’m cursed,” Rose laughed.

“It’s not just you, it’s everyone in this town! They’re all characters in this book. You all just can’t remember anything and time doesn’t move,” Henry explained.

Now Rose wasn’t entirely sure to handle this. What Henry was saying is clearly some fantasy to cope with whatever issues he’s dealing with at home. 

“Look, Henry,” Rose began. 

“Just wait. Let me ask you something. Do you remember why exactly you hate Natasha? Do you remember who gave you that dragon pendant? Or the ring on your right hand? Can you remember how you met Suki? Or Ms. Blanchard?” Henry asked, quickly following one question after another.

“Well, Natasha betrayed me. When were kids. Yeah we were young, but she clearly lacks remorse,” Rose said.

Though she didn’t want to admit it, Rose only addressed the first question because it was the only question where she was certain of her answer.

“But what actually happened? What did Natasha do to betray you?” Henry pressed.

Now Rose had to admit, the details are.....fuzzy. Rose can say beyond the shadow of a doubt that Natasha is a traitorous snake that should be avoided at all costs.

But honestly? She doesn’t remember exactly what occurred during this awful betrayal. The person who gave her the ring and pendant were important to Rose. She’s kind of sure of that. Rose is also pretty sure whoever gifted her those items were from the same person. However, Rose isn't entirely sure who this person is. She thinks they were gifts from a relative.

The gold dragon pendant with a bright blue gem in the middle went matched well with gold band of the ring that also has a bright blue circular gem in the center. Little diamonds run along the band making it the most beautiful and valuable thing Rose owns.

“I have a terrible memory, Henry. Anyone that knows me can attest to that. So what if I can’t remember the exact bits of what Natasha did? Or who gave me jewelry? Or how I met my friends? Having the memory of a goldfish don’t mean there’s a curse,” Rose tried to remind him.

“I get why you don’t believe me. After all, you got wronged by a lot of people which made you very cautious and untrusting,” Henry sighed, looking incredibly disappointed.

Rose frowned at seeing the boy so dejected. She tried to think of a way to cheer him up without lying and saying she believed him.

“If you’re so intent on the idea everyone in this town is a story book character, who am I?” Rose asked just to humor him.

At this, Henry’s eyes lightened up. He opened the book and flipped to a page in big, fancy letters that read out to be ‘Raya and the Last Dragon’. 

“This is your story. You’re Raya, untrusting heroine that has to learn to have faith in order to get her happy ending. In the book, after Namaari betrays you, you have to find the almighty dragon Sisu in order to return everyone from stone. Then Namaari proves herself by risking her life to save you and everyone else in Kumandra. After that, you two spent a lot of time together reuniting the five lands and eventually you two fall in love and get married! You were only married for a few weeks before the curse hit,” Henry informed her.

“Huh. Well, at least my story book life has a happily ever after before this supposed curse,” Rose huffed. “Wait, so who do you think Suki is? And Mary Margaret? Oh, you have to tell me who you think your mom is!”

“Suki is Sisu, the dragon that helped you save the world. Mary Margaret’s Snow White and my mom, well...,” Henry sighed, clearly hesitant to speak. “She’s the Evil Queen.”

Well this theory is most certainly going to drive an even bigger wedge between Henry and his mom than before. Though Rose has to admit, she finds the concept of Suki being a dragon very amusing.

“Wow. That...is a lot of information you dropped on me,” was all Rose could say after that.

“Yeah, I know,” Henry nodded. 

“Alright, I’m still not quite convinced that everyone in this town is a cursed fairytale character and you’re fine with that. So I just have one last question for you,” Rose told him.

“Lay it on me,” Henry nodded.

“Who’s my wife? You know, the girl that’s really Namaari but got cursed and is now not my wife. According to you, because I am doubtful,” Rose grinned.

“You’re not gonna like my answer,” Henry admitted sheepishly.

“Oh no. Who is it?” Rose asked, weirdly afraid of who he was going to say. 

“It’s Natasha Fang. She’s your wife before the curse,” Henry informed her. 

“I want a new one,” Rose demanded. 

“What,” Henry deadpanned. 

“I said I want a new one. Natasha Fang can’t to be my wife, she sucks! So pick a different one,” Rose told him. 

“I can’t just pick a different one, it’s who you married! You chose Natasha! She chose you! It already happened, there’s no take backsies!” Henry glared.

“Um, excuse you, if you get to tell me my entire life is one big curse, then I get to have a better wife! What about that girl who works at the electric company? She’s cute and she always gives me a discount whenever she needs to fix up my apartment! Make her my wife instead,” Rose whined childishly.

“That’s not- you know what? There’s no point in arguing with you. If there’s any hope of saving you and everyone else in this town, I need cold hard proof,” Henry sighed. 

“.............................are you sure cute electrician girl can’t be my wife?”

“Yes, Rose. I am sure. Cute electrician girl is not and will never be your wife. Deal with it.”

“............................rude.”

[ednav]

I don’t like to talk about politics here. But I see so many posts about the war in Israel/Palestine right now, and I cannot help saying my bit. It’s going to be long (read up until the end, or just skip) and messy and very personal. It’s not meant to be an essay that analyses all aspects of the situation. It comes after one of the worst months of my life—please, be kind. I’ve been on this earth for almost half a century, and it’s been one of the worst months of my life.

[If you prefer not to read at all, just skip. No harm done.]

I have both Muslim and Jewish friends in the Europe and in the US. Some of them wear a hijab, some of them wear a kippah. Every morning I check that they didn’t get beaten up because dividing the world into “good guys” / “bad guys” and releasing your frustration on someone who looks like “the bad guys” is an easy way to feel in control when you’re scared.

And now, the unpopular bit: I have Jewish Israeli friends. Every morning I check they came out alive from the bomb shelter. Hamas is still firing rockets—a lot of rockets—on both Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. I wait for them tell me if another disfigured body has been identified as a friend whom they thought that had “just” been kidnapped.

One of these friends goes to the peace protests in Tel Aviv, so I have to check that he didn’t get beaten up by the police either.

(Dear US people: identifying Israel with Netanyahu is like assuming all of you are MAGA Republicans. Worse, actually, because Israel is not a two-party system—more like a twenty-party system—and it’s a mess. Decolonise your mind from assuming that every country works like the US.)

Some of my friends are Mizrahi. Their great-grandparents had to find refuge in the relative safety of Israel after being expelled by another country in that region—a place where they cannot go back to. Not-very-fun fact: they’re also dark-skinned enough to get “randomly checked” every time they get on a plane, unless there’s a woman wearing a hijab or a chador on the same flight. It’s not as simple as European or US colonialism.

(Once again: stop making it all about you. The world is more complex than your country. Especially if your country is less than 250 years old and hasn’t had a battle on its soil in more than 130 years.)

I don’t know anyone in Palestine, so I can’t say what it’s like to have friends on that side of the border. I imagine it’s even worse, given that most people there don’t have shelters, nor actual freedom to protest against their government, at least in the Gaza strip.

Anyway: I don’t wish what I’ve been through in the last month on my worse enemy. And I’m just a friend of some people who are not in the worst possible situation. I know that I cannot even begin to know what it must be like for Jewish, Muslim, Israeli and Palestinian people.

And now, let me tell you about a history book that might have saved the world. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.

It’s a bit outdated, but it’s still quite good, and the writing is simply brilliant. It’s called The Guns of August, and it’s about the first month of WWI. Just the first month, and how we got there. How stubbornness, pride, rhetoric, and even “rationality”, led to a massacre that did nothing but cause another massacre less than a generation later. It was written by a woman, Barbara Tuchman, in 1962. Later that year, during the Cuban Missile Crisis, President John F Kennedy gave it to read to all the generals in the US Army. The message was simple: escalation leads to disaster. Sometimes you have to compromise, accept losses and even a certain degree of “unfair”, rather than getting into a full-blown war.

Now, I’m not a pacifist. I know that some wars are the lesser evil. I have relatives who fought in the Resistance. They were proud of having risked their lives. They were proud of living in a country with free elections—even if fascists-in-all-but-name could get elected—and at peace. But they were not proud of having killed people whose children grew up as orphans.

I see a lot of people, especially younger people, who want Pure Justice. Bad people must be eliminated, good people must triumph, no excuses.

The thing is—there are no completely good people, nor completely bad people. There are people. Often scared and more traumatised than you can possibly imagine.

There are people who must pay for their crimes. There are people who will, and some who won’t. Just ask anyone who survived a war, or a time of almost-civil-war like the Troubles in the UK/Ireland or the terrorism of the 1970s In Europe—that’s something we’ve all seen. (I say “we” because I’m old enough to remember the 1980s. They sucked, trust me.)

The problem is: the more you lose sight of the common humanity of everyone involved, the more you escalate the tension, the more there will be people who are going to pay for crimes they haven’t committed. And the more I see of this world, the more I believe that if there’s one side it’s just fighting for, it’s theirs.

As I said—it’s messy. And human beings are precious, but fragile. Please, be kind.

[cheesus-doodles]

Hi, I've been following your profile for a long time, but just now I had the courage to ask this. Could you make a headcanons list about the boss? I always wanted to know more about her. Feel free to skip this question if you want ♡︎

kjsnfdkjnfskjdfs thank you for sticking around! ahh i'm so happy that there are kind folks out there interested in boss :') ofc! have some hcs ^^ these are just some general HCs that i keep in mind when writing boss - nothing too specific - but please feel free to ask anything if you want to know more! (and have a lil blurb about Boss and Furu meeting at the end!)

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Don't Look Back in Anger | Red Dragonflies Masterlist | Masterlist

‎‎

Boss HCs

Red Dragonflies AU

all around in general a kind soul that looks out for those around her be it in personal or gang life, trying to help out whoever she can whenever she can if the person had done her no wrong

gets protective over her gang, more so over her Reds and her Toman friends, and especially so over those that she granted her protection to (cough Izzy)

though Boss is a forgiving person to begin with - only really gets angry when someone she cares about is hurt to get to her or when those she love are insulted

very attentive to her friends, picking up any changes in mood or expression with ease, asking after them whether there was anything she could do to help

yet at the same time a very very oblivious girl

will not get any hints and will dismiss any hearsay about anyone liking her despite clear signs - basically unless outright told by said person, Boss will not get it, and even if she does, good chance she will be in denial

does not work well for shyer folks (poor Koji really)

in her personal life, school takes up a large portion of her time and life like every other student her age; school work still ranks highly on her list of priorities despite all the ongoings around her, and she puts in effort to do to the best of her ability

the Reds had previously been barred from entering her school compound on the promise of a very painful weekend of chores unless in an emergency

though she had somewhat relaxed that rule in recent times given her Toman friends' wandering ways - not particularly fair if she held her Reds to a different standard

the one thing that has never changed is Boss being very, very strict when it comes to the rules of her house and the house etiquette expected from her guests, more so if they are a more permanent resident

there is a certain way that food must be kept, rooms must be cleaned, and laundry must be done, and no one is exempt from that

you will do it to her exacting standards or no home-cooked food for you

even her older brother once feared her rule over the house enough to comply, and no matter how much your poor Reds cared about your safety, none of them could quite keep up with your requirements

needless to say Furu of all people is scared shitless of the threat of being moved into her guestroom against his will

poor boy fears nothing except that, and Boss knows it well

the Toman founders somewhat skirted the rules by only staying the night, though no doubt some of them (cough Kazutora) would be desperate enough for your affection to force themselves to abide

but outside of house rules, Boss really does enjoy pampering her friends; always down for anything and everything they want to do, and that friend that would prepare and bring everyone’s favourite snacks on every outing

her favourite activity by far would be attending carnivals and festivals, with all its lights and sounds and cheery atmosphere

also reminds her a lot of her past; back when her brother would bring her to the various temple festivals to play and eat, or when she and Izana would wile away countless nights hiding from their responsibilities

although young, cooks like a grandma with 60 years of cooking under her belt would - her food would warm anyone up much like a good hug at the end of a long, hard day would

always cooks extra too, since never know when a few more of her boys would decide to drop in

gang life wise, sits at the top of the hierarchy of the Reds and generally doesn't get involved much with the day-to-day running of the gang - that work and any paperwork that come with such a large structured organization is usually shared by the Wings (given Furu's general incompetency at, well, life)

really only gets involved in incidents that affects the whole gang or more serious incidents that require her involvement to resolve or her web of connections to very important people

doesn’t lie, doesn’t like people lying to her - as long as you ask the right questions, Boss will tell you nothing but the truth and the absolute truth

but she will not spill anything unprompted; information is power after all

loves to take the time to get to know everyone of her gang - has a scarily good memory when it comes to people, one only needs to tell something to Boss once for her to remember that fact about them

an absolute beast when it comes to negotiations and mediations; has always been the choice for go-betweens before gangs come to blows should they personally request her help to step in

and of course for a a hefty fee, since her gang doesn't run on empty

a stickler for rules and procedures, especially when it comes to big, important meetings such as the meeting of gang leaders - hates to deviate from tried and tested ways given delinquents being delinquents would try to use any excuse to start a conflict

though strength-wise Boss doesn't actually bring much to the table compared to the rest of her inner circle; she’s only about as strong as Koji without fighting alongside Furusawa

had learned to fight a bit from her older brother, but just enough to defend herself - most of what she knows about fighting was taught to her by Furu after she became friends with him

like the rest of the Reds’ executives, she holds a part-time job that she juggles between school and gang life - none are allowed to live off just the gang budget, and the same rules applies to her

has

in terms of her past, none of the Reds' leadership had a particularly good or normal childhood, and the same goes for Boss - was given up by her parents when she was a baby, only for her older brother and only sibling to step up and take her in despite being a gang leader himself

brother tried his best to raise her, but Boss had to grow up quickly and learn to hold her own since her brother was busy

after her brother’s death, she lived alone for a few months before finding Furusawa and then Hase

always blamed herself, and vowed to never let anyone else around her go through what she did

completely soft when it comes to Izana and anything he does - has always forgiven him no matter what he put her through against the advice of her Reds

partially because of her associating him with ties to her older brother and her nostalgia, partially because of her emotional reliance on him

was just so lovesick after she was forced to part ways with Izana by Hase and Koji after he landed her in hospital, it took Boss a good amount of time to move on

also eventually contributed to why she decided to resign from the gang and leave the first time

her hands aren’t particularly the cleanest either, unlike what Toman likes to believe - there are just things that must be done when running a gang of the Red Dragonflies' size

not to mention the sway Izana had and still has on her

‎

"That doesn't look right."

Furusawa blinked, looking up. He didn’t remember leaving any of those annoying high schoolers conscious. though it seemed his initial assumptions were wrong when you were quickly revealed to be the source of the voice, doe eyes peering over at his math worksheet. Dressed in an elementary school uniform complete with hat, you were an admittedly nice contrast to the punching bags in high school uniforms Furusawa had fun beating up earlier (he was procrastinating, so what?), though you did sound like you knew your stuff despite being so small. “It’s not?” He asked incredulously, squinting back down at the numbers - he did think it looked rather correct.

Overhead, the sky was a gentle pink and orange, a unspoken herald to the end of the day, with the heat of the scorching afternoon finally giving way to a cool evening. The groans of pain from the pile of boys many years his age a stone's throw away didn't bother you in the slightest, your delicate finger reaching out to point at the first and only equation he had managed to fill in the past hour.

But unlike them, it seemed that you weren't here to laugh at him for being held back at school again or attempt to push him around (he put them in their place real quick) - you were genuine. "Nope. Come on, I'll show you."

Wandering over to the nearby sandpit, the blunt branch you picked up held loosely in one hand, you waved him over as you squatted by the edge of the pit, your school skirt falling neatly over your knees. "You carry over 1 to the front when it crosses 10 right?"

His footsteps were heavy, the loose mix of sand and dust puffing up as the boy trodded over. Nodding as he sat down beside you with a huff, the tip of your stick traced out something he knew into the soft sand, '16+9'. "I got that part alright."

"Right." You scribbled another equation below the original. "So let's say we have three numbers now."

Writing '168+76+21' in a fresh, undisturbed patch of the pit, all it took was one glance back at Furusawa's furrowed eyebrows to know that the other was already lost.

"If it looks intimidating, you can always break them down into two equations. First, 168+ 76. 6 plus 8 makes 14, but you have to carry over the 1."

You wrote 244 underneath the two numbers, looking back to check if he was following, to which you received a quick nod. No problems here. "Then we add the remaining 21 to this. Which will be?" You prompted, the stick stopping shy of writing any further answers into the send.

The already infamous underworld fighter scratched the back of his head. "...265?"

"Correct!" You puffed up, and Furusawa found himself slightly taken aback at the pride in those doe eyes of yours. You were proud...of him? A strange feeling of warmth lighted in his chest - he didn't think that someone else had ever been proud on his behalf before. But far from being done, you stood, dropping your stick to the side and dusting yourself off before tugging at the sleeve of his school uniform to walk with you. "I find that real world examples work the best."

A caw of a crow from above broke the stillness of the now-empty park, with just the last food cart left along the equally quiet street, the visibly weary employee perking up and jumping into action as you placed your order.

"So let's say we want to buy two strawberry cream crepes that cost 512 yen each." Pointing at the menu which you couldn't quite reach yet, Furusawa dutifully followed your finger to the price on the board. "How much would that be?"

"But that's multiplication." He protested - he wasn't good at that!

"True, but at the same time, it's also addition. 512 times 2 can also be written as 512 plus 512."

A pause, and you could see the gears turning in the other's head. "So the total is...1024 yen!"

"That's right!" Digging into your pockets, the slight jingle of metal as you pulled out a small pile of coins. "And how would we get to that amount with these coins?"

You allowed him to ever so gingerly pick out the money from your palms, pointing out the small and decreasing number of errors as the boy added the total out loud.

Taking the amount from Furusawa's open palm, he watched as you tiptoed to put the money on the vendor's coin tray, though you still missed your mark, the coins ending up in a splatter on the edge of the metal counter.

"Here." Lifting you up delicately by your waist - almost as if a crystal glass - it allowed you to quickly sweep the scattered coins and place them neatly into the coin tray, at the same time receiving back the two completed crepes.

You thrusted one at him. "One for me and one for you!"

"Mamoru Furusawa." He dipped his head slightly as he accepted the crepe from your tiny hand.

Blinking, your mouth dropped into a small O-shape as the realization hit you; you forgot to introduce yourself! Your name instantly spilling out in a hurry, you quickly dipped your head back, before your thoughts turned towards something else. "Furusawa-san? Can I just call you Furu?"

The newly nicknamed Furu shrugged. He didn't quite mind it from you, he supposed. But the niggling curiosity had yet to fade, and taking an enormous bite from his sweet treat, the boy turned once more to face you - a small, fragile kid next to a beast like him. "Are you not scared of me?" There was no doubt he could have snapped you in two with just one hand, yet there hadn't been any hesitation when you waltzed up to a stranger doing homework next to beaten boys of all things.

"Why should I be?" Humming, you nibbled on a corner, the whipped cream topping smearing on your nose. "You haven't done anything to me, have you?"

That was true, Furu mused as he munched, half of the remaining crepe disappearing into his mouth - he wouldn't dream of hurting you after you had helped him so much with his math. And bought him food. That was a double win in his eyes. "Can we be friends?"

You cocked your head in a curious lilt, though your eyes lighting up betrayed your excitement. "I don't see why not." Raising your crepe to him in a cheers, your soft lips broke out into a smile. "Friends it is!"

[yeonsu-bh]

HELLO EVERYBODY, THIS IS sun COMING TO U LIVE FROM A WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUEUED POST FOR BEONHWA'S OPENING !!!

i am SOOO excited to see beonhwa finally open and can't wait to write with everyone here and see muse development! i am here to introduce my toll and veryyy internally conflicted and overwhelmed muse YI YEONSU the recently returned heir apparent of house gladiolus. i've editted this part like three times now - barely have any pages set up but pulled this plot page together last minute for something at the least!

bec i have nothing else to offer but extreme volume (LOUD) please feel free to take a dive into my best attempt at yeonsu's tldr bec i literally wrote an entire essay for my app and still feel sorry for that hhhh,, (to save u time if u read his app this is basically that cut in half so u can skip to the bottom OR vice versa if you didnt want to read his app bec it was so fking long u can read his intro!)

full disclosure! i may be slow to get back but if you'd like a plot below feel free to reply with which one specifically, or if you'd like to brainstorm/plot pls give this a like an i will meander my way into ur dms as soon as i can!

trigger warnings: kidnap, assumed death

heir apparent of house gladiolus

twenty-seven old man (weeping for older fcs)

was born to the yi family of gladiolus

as a young child growing up, yeonsu was very naturally talented at everything he learned and picked up from academics to physical training! he also had great relations with his parents and grandparents

wasn't exactly doted on but was regarded with as much respect as the growing heir apparent could get so that he would understand his role from a young age versus being treated as a usual child would be

at 12, yeonsu was kidnapped during a large town celebration hosted by the villagers after the house of gladiolus supported them against an issue with the nobility. it was clear that families of the nobility were behind the kidnapping however there wasn't any concrete evidence to pinpoint which families were responsible for hiring kidnappers

a ransom was demanded for yeonsu's life along with certain demands to accommodate the nobility. however, the yi family came to odds against each other between deciding how to save yeonsu and what was the right thing to do for the people as a whole

during this time, yeonsu was able to escape from his kidnappers after finding a moment of opportunity. he was chased to a town far from beonhwa where he found refuge within a poor town - collapsing in front of a small farmer family that took him in.

yeonsu's escape was kept secret from the yi family as the kidnappers continued to hunt him down. he was only able to survive after being hidden in a home full of sick villagers where he then fell ill with pneumonia from being exposed to the sick along with all the distress his body and mind were under.

eventually, the kidnappers stopped looking for yeonsu and it was reported to the yi family that yeonsu was killed due to their inability to pay the ransom or accommodate the nobles.

for his safety, his adoptive mother encouraged yeonsu to assume a new identity as one of their children until someone from his family came to retrieve him - unaware of his true background. from a poor farming family in a town barely able to sustain itself, there was no one that would be able to truly protect yeonsu or provide him safe passage back to beonhwa.

thus, yeonsu became chae dohwan. as the years passed by with no one from the yi family ever coming to search for yeonsu, he slowly let go of the hope that he would ever be found and truly began assimilating into his life as dohwan.

after 15 years, yeonsu was finally pulled back to his past and true identity when his true birth mother suddenly showed up after hearing about yeonsu through many attempts of contact from his adoptive mother.

with his true identity confirmed and restored, yeonsu was immediately whisked back to beonhwa to return to his rightful place as the heir apparent of the gladiolus house.

personality

yeonsu is going through A LOT of internal conflict and strife!! it's only been about three months since he's returned. short enough of a time to still feel out of place, but long enough to have a routine established.

kind of feels like impostor syndrome but? he's the real deal hello! how do you deal with that?! aka he's feeling suffocated on top of all the other negative feelings!

he's in an odd place of reassimilating into the lifestyle of those in beonhwa

for one, he misses his family dearly and is struggling with trying to reconnect with his original family after finding out the truth all these years that they had believed he was dead this entire time

from the fifteen years he's lived as a poor farmer, there are a lot of things about politics, luxury, power, and the people of beonhwa that yeonsu is having a hard time accepting with ease

but wait! underneath all the commotion dotion yeonsu is actually a heckin great guy! smart, strong, talented! and super control of his emotions actually which is why he hasn't lashed out or anything. he just needs to catch a break!

connections

people who knew yeonsu before he was kidnapped (so childhood friends?)

people who think that yeonsu is a fraud

someone that sees yeonsu as a threat

yeonsu is going through MAJOR emotional changes! he's processing and not really processing at the same time because he's just been thrown into responsibilities for his role rather than really be eased into them.

plots (copy pasted from the page above)

yeonsu heard muse talking shit and now he’s avoiding them. but the thing is, he doesn’t have context! muse isn’t a bad person! OR maybe yeonsu did have context and he honest to god just doesn’t want to get involved with whatever is happening !

a huge feast is being held at the house of gladiolus officially celebrating yeonsu’s return. it’s too much though and yeonsu wishes he was anywhere but there. while muse sneaks around the estate to secretly find a quite place, yeonsu follows to join them.

muse doesn’t know that know or realize that yeonsu is the newly returned heir apparent of the gladiolus house. they catch him on the street interacting with non-nobles and start treating him like one of them ! (could be a positive or negative interaction!)

[ claimed ] in a field near the outskirts of beonhwa, yeonsu has found a moment to escape. muse comes across yeonsu by chance - hidden by the thick grassy field, and lays down to join him.

[betterthanyalls]

Hello there @betterthanyalls!!!!! First off can I just say that your one-shots and writing skills in general are amazing!!!!! You're a very talented writer my friend, keep it up. 😊👍💞 As for requests, if it's not too much trouble can I request a one-shot of Mugman snitching to Felix and Bendy about Y/N and Cuphead wreaking havoc and causing trouble in the town yet again??? And Felix and Bendy getting pissed off at both of them and ended up scolding/reprimanding them, rightfully so??? And Mugman being the damn goody-two-shoes angel that he is gets a pass and doesn't get scolded of course. Instead, Mugs gets praised and thanked by Felix for putting both Y/N and Cuppyface in their places. I apologize that this is so long and wordy. Feel free to skip over my request if it's just too much. 😅 

ofcccc <33

sorry if this isn't perfect!

Words: 771

Published: 10/20/2023

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Late Night Scolding

Y/n and Cuphead quietly climbed back into the castle dormitory that they resided in with the others. It was well past midnight—almost 3:00 AM, to be exact. As they slowly tiptoed into the room, a lamp flicked on. The low light revealed Bendy and Felix with disappointed faces and a nervous Mugman behind them.

The two troublemakers immediately jumped, not expecting anyone to be up right now. Y/n slowly turned to look at the two disappointed toons. 

“…Good morning..?” She spoke nervously with an anxious chuckle, unsure of what to do. She glanced at Cuphead to get some help, but all she saw was him glaring daggers at Mugman.

“Y/n. Do you know what time it is?" Felix whisper shouted, hoping not to wake the others. “You could have gotten seriously injured out there, and with Cuphead? You two should never be left alone; you could cause World War III for all we know." Felix rambled. 

He always overthought and rambled when it came to Y/n’s safety, which is something she never understood. Why would he care so much about a girl he just met a few days ago? 

“Slow down, Felix; I’m just fine. See?” Y/n tried reassuring the worried feline. She looked at Bendy; he was glaring at Cuphead. Cuphead was still glaring at Mugman. Mugman was looking around nervously. None of them were willing to contribute to the conversation.

"It doesn't matter; you still could’ve gotten hurt!” Felix pressed. 

“You don’t even know what we were doing.” Y/n counterred.

“I know enough, like how you and Cuphead started bar fights, painted over Stink's house, broke into the training facility, set chickens free, and more.” Felix glared roughly at Y/n. 

Cuphead let out a soft chuckle. Felix's attention was drawn to the sentient ceramic.

"Do not think you are out of it, tea cup." Bendy finally joined the conversation with a scowl. 

"Teacup?! Okay, then, 'pRiNcE cHaRmInG,' tell me when you had some fun." Cuphead smirked.

 "That is the dumbest excuse I have ever heard." Bendy deapanned.

“You’re the dumbest toon I’ve ever heard.” Cuphead clenched his fists tightly.

“That doesn’t even make sense with what we are talking about!” Bendy stood up and got into Cuphead’s face.

Y/n’s looked around the room; a few of the toons were shifting in their makeshift beds. She needed to step in and calm these two down. Y/n felt a lump in her throat; she wasn’t up for confrontation or stopping arguments today. 

"Hey guys," Y/n muttered, "you might wake the others up."

But alas, the two arguing toons made no effort to hear their human friend.

Y/n frowned with a wrinkled brow. “Will you two just stop?!” She raised her voice as she put her hands on both their chests and shoved them away from each other. They both stumbled slightly, a little flustered that they got ahead of themselves so much that Y/n had to shove them apart. Secretly, they were mainly focused on Y/n touching their chests.

Y/n quickly quieted down, praying she didn’t wake up the others. “Bendy, Felix, we are sorry for going out and causing havoc. Aren’t we, Cuphead?” Y/n gritted her teeth at him

Cuphead crossed his arms and looked away, biting his inner cheek as he muttered incoherently. 

Bendy raised a nonexistent eyebrow. “What was that, dish?”

“I said,” Cuphead began with venom in his tone until he looked at Y/n’s glare. Cuphead let out a defeated sigh. “Sorry.”

“Now that we have that sorted out," Felix began in a happy tone until he became serious. “Go to sleep before I get Ruck in here.” 

That threat alone caused both Y/n and Cuphead to run in opposite directions for their beds. Felix merely smirked in satisfaction. Mugman slowly walked back to his bed, tired. Just as Bendy and Felix sat on the ground on their sleeping bags, Donald turned to face Cuphead, Bendy, and Felix. 

“You guys really care for her, huh?’ Donald smirked mischievously. That caused Felix to look down bashfully, Bendy to sigh irritatedly and lay down, and Cuphead to start sputtering nonsense, trying to deny Donald's accusation.

Finally, after Cuphead couldn't come up with a response, it was silent. All the toons plus Y/n were sleeping peacefully in their beds. With the balcony doors still wide open, the soft winds of the night blew around them calmly. The moon showed it’s cool gaze through the doorway, peering upon the young prophecies. With one last nightly prayer, the world calmed. 

Good night, dear.

[tavyliasin]

Boundaries and Parasocial Relationships (I will only say this once)

This is the ONLY post I will be making on the matter, so please feel free to skip if you do not want to hear it again, and don't worry you don't need to hide me to avoid discourse - the rest of my content will remain firmly with only SMUTFIC FAN FUN.

So let's start with the simple. Actors, performers, celebrities: They are PEOPLE with LIVES. They are not CHARACTERS. Paying them for a service does not include the right to cross their boundaries. Just like tipping someone working food service does not give you a pass to harrass them either.

If you feel the need to request something smutty from an actor/celebrity, STOP. THINK. THIS IS WHAT FAN CREATORS ARE HERE FOR!

I'm not saying that you can act inappropriately towards fan creators, I'm saying that those of us making NSFW content are already prepared to hear the horny requests, the thirst comments towards the characters on our posts, the headcanons and self inserts and all of that. Of course you should never expect a creator to make your ideas into fic or art, and asking politely is always preferred. Whilst fic writers generally cannot take paid commissions, artists can and do, so you should also consider commissioning what you want to see and never expect art for free. Sometimes we hear a good idea, though, and get really inspired! We draw or write it because we hear it and thing "well yes darling actually that's very hot" or even "that sounds like a challenge, it could be fun!"

For anyone still confused about what is appropriate or not, please read this article about Parasocial Relationships

It is important to recognise for your own mental health when fandom is going too far, and to keep the right boundaries for everyone. It is very easy to get carried away with excitement, especially when some performers might share a few risqué pieces of art or content, but when they're sharing it like that it is on their terms, on their time. Making requests during a live stream or through cameo is not the same. I'd also add to think before sharing any NSFW art, fic, or other creations directly to performers - if they haven't asked for it don't send it. Don't tag them in it, either - they have families, careers, and may not want to be as visibly linked to literal porn. If they're looking for that content and want to see it, they will find it. That also applies to sharing other peoples' NSFW creations to the performers or tagging them in replies - unless they specifically state they want to see the content, don't.

FINAL NOTE

This fan community has so much potential. We have proven we can be awarded "Community of the Year". We can love and support one another, we can keep each other safe, we can be a rock in the storm and the cheerleading squad that each other need in so many situations. Let's keep it that way. Be kind, to each other and to the performers. Remember, the words on the screen are not written by unfeeling robots, we are all very real people with thoughts and emotions and lives. Now go out there. Make the world a brighter place, and keep creating the fan content we all love so very dearly, darlings, but do it right.

SAFE, SANE, CONSENTING. Check in on the safety, mental health, and boundaries in all of your interactions.

And one last time, to learn more about parasocial relationships and how to handle interactions with famous people:

Click Here for the full article.

[callsignfate]

Rules for submitting? And when are you going to do another event?

-🎉

Rules for submitting!

¤ Don't ask for any overly personal information. If I wanted you to know, I'd tell you. I won't get mad, but I will skip the question or ignore you. (Ex: "Where do you live?" Will be ignored, "How are you, how tall are you, do you like XYZ, Ect." Will not.)

¤Compliments/nick names are okay! Call me whatever I don't mind.

¤ If you are anon and put an emoji, I'll 100% call you that, and I'll make sure to put a taken anon list on my pinned post. If you don't, I'll just call you anon.

¤ Please be 18+ if you are going to request anything or really outwardly interact with me or my posts. I don't have the time with college and taking care of my mom to look through every blog and find out your age. Most people can lie either way. I do post fluff, but some of my content can be disturbing or harmful to viewers. Every post is basically "Viewers discretion is advised" it's more for your safety. I rarely interact with my followers personally, if ever. I do thank you all for following/interacting with my posts, but don't DM me or ask for any 18+ content under 18.

¤ If you request something smut related, I kinda suck at writing smut, so it might take longer or just never get posted, I'm terrified of writing it terribly, I am practicing in my off time when I get the chance but I may take some time.

¤If your ask takes what seems like forever, I'm sorry. I am currently recovering RSV, I have college classes and studies to attend to, and I just have limited time to write, so when I do, it's usually for an event coming up. Your request might be used in an event.

¤If you aren't requesting and just want to talk, that's okay! Asking about future events and posts is easy to respond to, so dont feel bad!

¤If I go missing, your request is safe in my inbox, and the minute I can get to them, I will. Requesting really helps me keep writing, I often run out of ideas, so feel free to send in requests or ask for me to continue a series I've forgotten about/ haven't posted in a while. I love seeing comments and requests genuinely.

(I will be posting the plans for this year's events soon!)