#No thoughts here about Pryce sorry I really don’t know …

[box953]

vinnayyyyyyy idk if anyone has asked you before but what are your post canon visions for all the surviving characters??

HIIII umm let me pull some thoughts out of my beautiful mind.

The only thing i have really ever ruminated on is the idea of Jacobi showing up at Minkowski’s house after disappearing off the face of the earth for several months and forcefully moving in on her couch. Minkowski who is in the process of trying to heal her relationship with her husband who thought she was fucking Dead and who is going through a Lot because that healing process comes with realizing just how much she has to tell him about what she Did up there and then Jacobi, one of the guys who was greatly impacted by the things Minkowski Did, shows up like hey lol. Im here to be your reoccurring sitcom side character.

i think Jacobi shows up to her place because he’s incredibly aimless without si-5 work and without Kepler to follow around like a lost dog. He absolutely guilts her into it because he Knows that she feels bad about Maxwell and i think his lost dog schtick really nails home how much hes lost and she feels responsible for his aimlessness on earth. And also in a weird way his anger towards Minkowski is also a memory of Maxwell and that all funnels together into a weird brain concoction of feelings that make him feel very Attached to Minkowski, even if he doesn’t like her.

Any other characters are a lot more vague in my mind. I have absolutely no clue what they would do with Hera and her supergiant supercomputer brain but through the power of “dont worry about it” maybe they just turn her into a home security system or something. I don’t think she’d like it but they don’t have much for other options.

I think a lot about Eiffel’s memory loss and. While i dont Like it. If i had to play in the space with it, i feel like Eiffel should regain those memories. And, playing into the fact that Doug Eiffel is a coward, i think it would be interesting if him regaining his memories on earth had to be an intentional process that he had to work through in order to gain those memories. Because then there is the possibility of him realizing more and more about who he is and having to wrestle with the idea of just taking the cowards way out and continuing to forget. Forget what happened, forget everything he did, forget why he was ever sent up to orbit wolf 359, and just move on as this new version of himself instead of having to address the person he is. Could be fun. Could be silly. I envision him and Hera wandering around his mindscape (dont ask me how they have the resources to jack her in there) and idk i think it could be interesting to play with the visuals of actively having to go find your memories in your mind.

lovelace…. Lovelace…… i want good things for her. I do not know if they would come to her easy back on earth. I feel she would be very restless. I think she would go hard into no-contact, no way to track her down, disappearing to a beach off the coast of nowhere for a while to decompress after four years of the torture labyrinth. I think that has mixed results and has the capacity to tip over into just pure isolation. After some time maybe she wraps back around to keep in touch with Eiffel to make sure he’s doing okay and then just keeping in touch with the others over time. But i think shes going to need a lot of support once she gets down there.

and this is all without really considering any Goddard related nonsense. I think a post-canon wolf 359 has the capacity to just delve into More Story Happening. I think Lovelace should plan to infiltrate Goddard futuristics to literally blow it up from the inside. That could be a fun spinoff series. But thats its own entire thought process and im just looking at this through a pov of “what if they were returning back to normal lives on earth”

[emp-t-man]

okay, potentially hot take because ik so many people ship them BUT— a ramble/essay about my interpretation of doug and hera’s relationship (spoilers obviously, ik there’s a lot of people currently listening)

Doug Eiffel is— a deeply flawed individual. It’s easy to forget that because of how benevolent he seems in comparison to half of the cast, but the truth is, he is not a great person at the podcast’s start. What he did to Anne and to Kate is absolutely unforgivable. However. He realizes that this is the case, and spends the rest of his life hating himself for it and trying to get as far away from the person he was as possible. The only reason why he accepted Cutter’s offer in the first place was because he had promised to provide for Anne in his absence and give her the life Doug wished he could have given her. He didn’t really care what happened to him at that point. That being said— imagine his thought process when suddenly, in the middle of this punishment for the life he ruined, he meets another intelligent, young (chronologically speaking), curious girl who struggles to know exactly where her place in the crew and in the world is.

He’s not a good friend to Hera at all in the beginning. He sees her as more of a tool than as a person, as Pryce views her, and is scared of her presence because of just how constant it is. I believe some of this is due to just how much Eiffel despises himself and how terrified he is of someone discovering his true self, rather than the confident, easygoing persona he’s hastily taped onto himself. The entire story of Anne and how he ended up on the Hephaestus was removed from his personnel file (something I believe he personally requested due to his goal of leaving that Doug Eiffel in the past), and so Hera had no reason to believe that this persona isn’t his real character. This leads her to not be too fond of him, either. To her, Eiffel is simply a lazy, selfish, ignorant communications officer who is miraculously still okay at his job.

Up until around episode four, their relationship is strictly professional; Hera only speaking to Eiffel to answer a question of his, and not participating in any casual conversation or friendly banter. It isn’t until Eiffel nearly drowns in the solar storm of Cataracts and Hurricanoes that she appears to show any concern for him (admitting that she missed him while he was unconscious). I believe this comes from a place of guilt for Hera, because in her head, she’s the one responsible for everyone on board’s lives. She’s here because she wanted to prove to Cutter that she can be useful, that she’s competent and independent and good at what she does, and letting Eiffel die while on her watch would have disproved that to her. Of course, there was absolutely nothing she could have done to prevent what happened and it was in no way her fault, but to her, she could have done better. She could have given a more in advance warning of the storm. She could have sensed the suit’s coolant system would fail earlier. She could have done something to prevent it.

After the events of episode four, the pair seems to have reached some sort of understanding. Episode six begins with them in the middle of a completely non work related conversation (Eiffel asking Hera’s top five “stick it to the man” songs). At this point I still don’t believe they consider each other “friends”— rather, Hera is simply entertaining Eiffel because she feels sorry for him, especially after the events of Cigarette Candy. However, while this conversation is happening, Hera gets annoyed with Hilbert for rudely demanding something of her despite her objections concerning station safety. This surprises Eiffel because, quote, “he didn’t know she got upset”. He still didn’t see her as human, and so the concept of her experiencing emotion was alien to him, and realizing this helps to open his eyes as to just how similar to him she really is. I believe this realization is what causes him to reciprocate her sentiment at the end of episode six, stating that he missed her.

Although this information helps him to understand Hera a little better for a short time, his attitude towards her doesn’t seem to get too much better for the next few episodes— making the “it’s just part of her programming” remark in episode seven, calling her simply an “operating system”, etc— but it is revealed that he respects the work she does to keep them safe (most of the time) and thinks she’s incredibly intelligent. Small things like this are what I believe cause Hera to ultimately refer to them as friends by episode eleven, and also to refer to him as simply “Doug” rather than the more professional title of “officer Eiffel”. Despite this, though, she still admits that she isn’t sure if she’ll miss him once he’s gone forever. It’s very much a relationship built on mutual trauma (as relationships in wolf 359 tend to be) to the point of which they don’t know how they would feel about each other were the circumstances different.

Episodes twelve and thirteen are where their relationship really starts developing some layers. First of all, Hera is the only one who acknowledges Eiffel’s birthday, even going so far as to call her latest sensing of a transmission her present to him. This really seems to strike something in Eiffel, as he makes it clear that he often goes overlooked on his birthday due to sharing it with Christmas. Having such a thoughtful and personal action come from Hera of all people seems to give him some sort of breakthrough on how much she truly cares about him and looks up to him. And the last time he experienced that level of admiration came from where? Most likely his daughter.

This connection seems even more obvious to me during the pep talk he gives her while she’s being forced to obey Hilbert’s commands. He realizes the error of his own comments regarding Hera’s programming through similar remarks stated by Hilbert, and takes care to prove those remarks wrong because he recognizes how much she’s actively struggling to work against said programming. He coaxes her through the fear that she’s helpless to stop what’s happening, that she will— once again— be responsible for causing her friends harm (the exact same fear that scared her so bad during episode four). He does this by calling Hilbert a “dork” of all things, something that sounds rather childish and out of place for such a dire situation. This speech, Eiffel telling Hera just how smart she is and how much he believes in her to do great and seemingly impossible things, sounds awfully similar to the message he leaves for Anne at the beginning of the finale. The speech feels inherently parental. And it isn’t the first time it’s given, either! He says something very similar in episodes forty five and fifty eight! He so badly wants to see her succeed, especially after what she admits to him after Hilbert brings her back, about how she was only stuck in this position because the people back home deemed her “flighty, mercurial, and having poor impulse control”, and didn’t see her as “good enough” to fit a more comfortable job, similar to how Eiffel believed he was only on the Hephaestus to be a test subject, and they didn’t really expect him to make contact with extraterrestrials. Eiffel wants Hera to believe she’s capable of so much, and to go so far as a person, because he doesn’t believe the same of himself, and if he’s not going to be anything of use while he’s alive, he can at least inspire someone else to do differently. This ideology is extremely common in parents in regard to their children. One of the most common goals of parenthood is to provide your child with a better, more opportune life than you had, because you would never wish your own life upon a future generation. This is exactly what Eiffel wants to provide for Anne, and for Hera.

I could say so much more on this topic with even more examples from other episodes, but I have already talked for such a long time, so if anyone actually read this far, thank you so much for hearing me out— Eiffel and Hera are so important to me as characters and their relationship is something I hold so close to my heart, so hopefully this meant something to someone else as well.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Ribbons and Rainstorms

Chapter 4 : Temple of Chores

----

<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->

----

Roman kept going back.

It wasn't hard to keep going back. Not in the slightest, especially during storms when Vi was there. 

Even when Vi wasn't there, Roman found himself more drawn to the temple than he had been before. He had done a fair bit of cleaning, dusting off nooks and crannies (though trying his best to leave the spiderwebs in the corners undisturbed since Vi had expressed his fondness for them).

At the market he had bought some new blankets and pillows to take over and leave there so that he wouldn't have to ferry them back and forth every time there was a storm and risk them getting wet. He had spent almost an entire day gathering and stockpiling inside the temple as much firewood as he could find so that it could dry out. He’d bought more embroidery supplies since Vi had started teaching him too. Some of them stayed in his bedroom, stocking up for a project he was currently just planning out on paper, others he brought to the temple to use for their lessons. 

He spent so much time at the temple, that people actually started to notice. 

—-

"You're late." Came the scornful voice of his mentor, the person who oversaw all his training as a Protector, as Roman stumbled into the arena, clothes a mess and still pulling on his second boot, "Roman Edevane, If you are not taking this seriously enough to consider being on time—"

"I am so sorry Master Pryce, I just— I was busy and I lost track of time— I swear it won't happen again," Roman said, trying in an earnest tone. 

"This the third time in the last two weeks," She said, glaring at him, "Let me guess, the Storm Temple, again?"

"Yes ma'am," Roman said, nodding, "I was sweeping the floors today." 

“I’m glad you’re so dedicated,” She said, smiling a little, “But you really can’t keep being late for training like this, have you been practising since last week?”

“Indeed I have!” Roman grinned, standing up a little straighter, “And I’ll try not to be late, in future.”

"Good." She said with a nod, "Now that you’re here, let's get on with this training session, shall we? You know the warm up, hop to it." 

—-

"Roman, sir," One of the two servants they hired — Immy — said, stopping him on the staircase, "You're not going to come home caked in mud again, are you? You know, if Nessy and I have to wash the same set of your clothes every day for much longer they're going to fall apart." 

Roman winced in sympathy, he really did feel bad most of the time about all the extra work he seemed to always put both of them through. 

"I'm sorry," Roman said, taking a deep breath, "I'm almost done with what I've been working on now, so there shouldn't be much more mud." 

"Oh good," Immy said with a sigh of relief, "If I may inquire, what exactly is the task you’ve been doing to get yourself so dirty all the time?”

Roman paused, before sighing, “I’ve been attempting to clear more of a path from our gardens to the Storm Temple up on the hill so it doesn’t take quite as long for me to get up there.”

“I thought there was already a path?” Immy asked, shifting her grip on the laundry basket she carried.

“There is,” Roman nodded, “But it’s been overgrown and full of debris for years now and doesn’t go directly from the house, which was fine to worry about transversing when I only went a few times a month, but…”

“I see,” She nodded, “Well, good luck with that, Sir Roman, and please try not to get so dirty?”

“I’ll do my best,” Roman said grinning as he hurried down the stairs.

—-

"Roman!" His Ma called from downstairs, Roman shot up from where he sat on his bedroom floor, he dropped his needle and thread onto the fabric he was working on and stood up, rushing towards the stairs to call back.

“What is it?”

“Get down here,” She yelled, “I don’t want to yell through the house!”

Roman rolled his eyes with a sigh before scrambling down the stairs to the hallway where Taz stood, waiting impatiently with her hand on her hip. 

“Yes, ma?” Roman asked, wondering if she was mad at him for some reason, but that couldn’t be right, could it? He hadn’t exactly done anything.

“Wonderful, I need you to make some deliveries around town,” She said, Roman sighed. So he wasn’t in trouble, he wasn’t sure if this turn of events was any better though, he was busy with his project!

“Yes, Ma,” he said anyway, because no matter his projects Roman would probably do anything for his mother, even if he didn’t always show it.

“Good!” She smiled, “I’ve been doing a lot of baking, it’s all packed up and labelled so you can set off as soon as you’re ready.”

Roman nodded, reaching to grab his boots from the cabinet next to the stairs, he pulled them on and moved to retrieve the baskets from the kitchen. He hadn’t run deliveries in a long while, but Roman still knew the routine like the back of his hand. Maybe whilst he was out as well he could take a quick detour to grab a few things for the temple too, he’d been meaning to get a broom he could leave down there since the late fall leaves kept being blown in and he was annoyed at them clinging to his blankets. 

He might even have time to deliver them if he was quick… 

“Oh, and Roman?” Taz said, pulling him away from his train of thought, she had a serious look in her eyes, “No detours.”

“Oh but Ma—" Roman huffed, it was like she could read his mind!

“No, sweetheart, you’ve been spending all your free time these last few weeks either in your room working on that massive piece of fabric for heaven knows what, or at that abandoned old temple, I’ve barely seen you! Which is why I’m cooking dinner tonight and I’d like us to spend some time together.”

Roman sighed, not protesting because… well that was fair, he had been spending a lot of time working on his most recent embroidery project — Vi had given him a few lessons since they had talked and he was really starting to pick it up quickly — or working on his current mission of making the temple into a second home. She was right, they had spent hardly as much time together as of late than they had in the past. He probably owed an afternoon and evening to her and besides, he could get the broom another time. 

“I’ll be back as quickly as I can,” Roman promised, “No detours.”

—-

“You’re here every time,” Vi said one day, this time the storm was bad enough and the weather cold enough that Roman had bundled himself up in blankets and taken up refuge behind the altar where he’d built a small fire. He’d end up stinking of smoke by the time the storm was over he knew, but it was worth it for the warmth. Vi had immediately come and sat down next to him when they arrived and took out a few twines of thread that he seemed to be content with twisting around his fingers to form patterns. 

“So are you,” Roman countered, because it was true, there wasn’t a single time Roman had come here during a storm yet that Vi hadn’t appeared for. 

Vi hummed, considering the statement for a moment before shrugging, “Only because you are.”

“I don’t believe that.” Roman huffed, looking down at the embroidery he was supposed to be practising with. In all honesty, he had gotten entirely distracted.

“Why not?” Vi asked, sounding genuinely confused, “Your company is pleasant.”

“Surely you have better things to do than sitting in silence watching me struggle to embroider.” Roman said, voice deadpan, lifting the barely started embroidery in his hands. 

Vi shrugged with an awkward smile, “Not really.”

“You’re serious?” Roman asked, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. It’s not like people hadn’t wanted his company before, but it was a little different when that person was a deity, someone who could go anywhere, talk to anyone. Roman had no doubt that Vi could easily do better than him.

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t,” Vi huffed, “I like sitting with you, here.”

“Wha— oh!” Roman said, tensing as Vi reached over without warning and took his hand, turning it over and placing something in his palm quickly before letting go again. Roman took a deep breath before investigating what Vi had given him.

…a ribbon?

It was a dark, vibrant red and a little thicker than the ribbons that they usually used for hair ties. With what looked like the same silver thread that had been used on the handkerchief, a pattern was embroidered and when Roman looked closer he realised it was a mirror of the pattern he had embroidered onto the ribbon he’d given Vi. The fabric was almost heavy and unbelievably soft and when Roman moved it, it caught the light from the fire in a way he wasn’t sure fabric normally did. 

“You told me that to accept the ribbon you usually give one back,” Vi said, watching him inspect it, “So I made one for you, too.”

Roman smiled, a vaguely irrational part of him wanted to lean over and pull Vi into a hug, because this ribbon was beautiful and oh goodness he didn’t deserve this. 

“Thank you,” Roman said instead of voicing that last thought, “It’s lovely.”

There was a minute of silence between them where Roman held the ribbon, wondering if he should put it into his hair now or if… maybe…

“May I?” Vi asked eventually, gesturing to the ribbon and Roman barely restrained himself from jolting in surprise. Was Vi really offering? “You did mine, after all.”

Roman took a deep breath and nodded, offering the ribbon back, not trusting his voice. 

“I’m going to tie it around your bun,” Vi told him, taking the ribbon back. Roman nodded again, turning his head so that Vi could reach easier. The ribbon was long enough that even when tied the tails brushed his shoulders and Roman found himself grinning at the mere idea that he’d really been given a friendship ribbon by someone like Vi.

“Thank you,” Roman said, “Really, this is, I— it’s— I mean, it’s beautiful, is what I’m trying to say, I— um— I really appreciate it.”

Vi chuckled, looking back at Roman with a smile on his face that reached his eyes, Roman realised that the markings on their face had lightened multiple shades, now looking almost magenta instead of their usual black, Roman couldn’t help but smile back. 

“You’re welcome.” Vi told him, and Roman realised quite abruptly how genuine they sounded.

----

<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->

[vanilla-phantoms]

hiii i'm so sorry this is MONTHS late but has anyone ever come around to asking you to elaborate on your w359 au where kep leaves si-5 and is replaced with rachel. pls i need to know everything about it (if you're down to talk about it!)

Nope you’re the first to have asked! I had the idea a good while ago so I’ve lost the initial screenshots from the conversation I was having with a friend about it, but the gist is basically like…

Kepler. Doesn’t really like his job, does he? You can of course interpret his speech to Eiffel about being the “artist formerly known as Warren kepler” with varying levels of sincerity, but I think that it’s a pretty incredible speech that has the potential to lend a lot of depth to his character if you interpret it as sincere.

I hear this and I’m like. God what if he just quit. Like we know he has his reasons for doing it, and seems to genuinely believe in the bigger picture that goddard claims to be working for, but maybe, just maybe, if he was just a little bit more in touch with his emotions, he would have it in him to just LEAVE. And what if in some universe, he left before the Hephaestus mission? How would that change things?

Because I’m a kepcobi shipper, the first thing I did was think about him trying to convince jacobi to leave with him, run away with him essentially. Jacobi wouldn’t think he was serious at first, he’d think it was a test, be pleased with himself for passing it when he refuses, but no, Kepler really is leaving. And it takes a little bit for it to sink in what he’s asking Jacobi to do. I think maybe he’d consider it a bit, maybe even go to Maxwell and talk it over, ask her to come too, but at the end of the day, Maxwell and Jacobi have much more reason to be with Goddard, and they actually are doing what they love and what they’re good at. I don’t think that they would go.

So, what then?

Well, someone has to head the SI-5, and Kepler and Rachel have had some competition going on and are great in-story foils, so she seems both a natural and narratively interesting choice. She’s ruthless, she believes in the cause just as much as kepler, and she’s shown she’s willing to follow it even farther to the bitter end. So how much would really change?

In my opinion, the real kicker here is loyalty. The SI-5 are all talented individuals, but what makes them so dangerous is how they work as a team, and Kepler’s only real main skill is to hold that team together. I always argue that, though he puts on an intimidating show for the Hephaestus crew, Maxwell and Jacobi themselves were never scared of him. They’re each loyal for their own reasons, mainly because he respects them as professionals (though maybe not as much as friends). How much could Rachel Young conduct the same loyalty?

Probably not as much. And that’s what’s her undoing in the end. I think in this au, the Hephaestus crew are able to sway the sympathies of Maxwell and Jacobi a little easier, though I haven’t thought of the details on how. Rachel would kill and die for Goddard, but Maxwell and Jacobi wouldn’t kill and die for Rachel.

After this it could go so many ways. Maybe they succeed in turning Jacobi and Maxwell against Rachel but not in totally getting them on their side. It could be a slow process as they all realize that they’re better off working together, maybe helped along by Rachel letting slip how replaceable she thinks they are. Do they keep her as a prisoner? It would be like those early debates with Hilbert as a prisoner, but with all the new characters, there’s a lot more diverse moral perspectives to that argument that could be really interesting.

I’ve considered whether Rachel could be redeemed if she’s on the station for longer without Cutter and Pryce there, and I really like to think that any character is capable of it, so maybe in some universe that’s true. But for Kepler, the real turning point that made him reconsider his actions and his choices was having to face Jacobi’s anger and sense of betrayal. And if Rachel was never as close with any of the members of her team, would any of it hit hard enough to really get to her? Who knows, but I find it unlikely.

Anyway, yeah. I don’t know how it ends. Cutter and Pryce show up but with Hilbert and Maxwell still alive and with Rachel incapacitated, maybe they don’t get away with quite so much damage before they’re defeated. I don’t know, I just know that it would change things.

And after it’s all over and they’re back on earth, Jacobi can find Kepler somewhere and tell him he was right to leave.

[idabbleincrazy]

Secretly Submissive ~ Ch.4

<--- Previous Chapter

Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)

Series Rating: E

Series Pairings: Spike/Angel(Liam/William), Angel/Lindsey, Spike/Lindsey, Spike/Lindsey/Angel

Series Characters: Angel (Liam Devlin), Spike (William Pratt), Lindsey McDonald, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, others tbd

Word Count: 1465

Chapter Warnings: minor negotiations, kissing

Series Warnings: human au, fluff, angst, Dom/sub, submissive!Angel, smut, bondage…more to be added as series progresses

Chapter Summary: Will asks a necessary question, and Liam makes another decision. 

Series Summary: Liam Devlin, hardworking investor and businessman, receives an unexpected awakening in the form of William Pratt, the unassuming bookstore owner he met online.

A/N: Since it's human au, I figured this chapter was necessary to get done before the smut.

William was half disappointed when Liam promptly pulled into the parking space beside him. The other half appreciated the brunette's eager obedience. Liam stepped out of the black '59 Corvette and joined him where leaned against the trunk of the Viper.

"You know, I thought about driving around the block a couple times, just to start racking up that punishment."

"And yet, here you are, right on schedule. Pity." William smirked and shook his head, pleased Liam hadn't gotten spooked on the drive over from the cafe and done a runner. "What made you change your mind, pet?"

"Didn't wanna waste time better spent with you." A sly look crossed Liam's face. "I'm sure I'll wind up earning a punishment at some point, anyway, so don't be too disappointed."

"Oh? Plan on disobeying me, do you?"

"Hmm, that's for you to find out the hard way", Liam teased with a wink.

Will scoffed and pulled Liam to him, gripping his chin in hand.

"Cheeky boy."

"Gonna spank it out of me?"

Liam tilted his head and captured William's thumb between his lips, sliding his mouth down the digit, sucking at it briefly before pulling back with a wet pop.

"Not tonight, Angel", Will groaned, releasing his face and taking his hand, leading him towards the building. "Got somethin' so much better in mind. 'Sides, I kinda like your cheek."

"So, you live in your bookshop?" Liam ducked his head as soon as he said it, heat rising to his cheeks. "I, uh, didn't mean that in a bad way, just curious."

"S'alright, pet. Yeah, live in the apartment upstairs." William unlocked the shop door and led Liam into the darkened shop towards the stairs. "It's big enough for now, and while the books that come through make a pretty penny, there can be buyer droughts. Having just the one set of bills helps me not dry out all my savings during the slow months. I’d rather be able to spend more on experiences than money, anyway. Sorry if you were expecting somethin’ swankier."

“Oh, God, Will, that’s not what I meant, at all! I don’t like to spend all that much on unnecessary stuff, either.” They quickly reached the top of the stairs and crossed the small landing to the door. Unlocking it, Will held it open for Liam as he continued trying to explain. "I really just wasn't expecting it."

"Liam, luv, I'm just yanking your chain."

"Oh. Jeez, rude much? And,” Liam gave him a wry smirk, “didn't you already do that, not even ten minutes ago?"

William barked out a laugh and led Liam into the apartment, flicking on the light. It was a nice place, nearly as large as the bookstore below, with an open layout from the entry through to the kitchen, and four doors running down along one wall. The furniture was tastefully simple, two off-white couches, an armchair, and a cherry wood coffee table made up the bulk of the living room, with a matching desk and chair set up in a corner. Dark gray wall-to-wall carpet led from the door to the dining room, which had a hardwood flooring to match the four-person dining table. Chrome and steel appliances made up the kitchen; the countertops and island were a gray, speckled marble.

"Have a seat, pet." Will waved Liam over to the couches and headed into the kitchen. "Beer? Or would you prefer something harder?"

Liam settled into the larger of the sofas and turned to look at William.

"Oh, I'd definitely prefer something harder, but he's in the kitchen getting me a beer."

"Christ, you are going to keep me on my toes, aren't you?"

Grabbing a couple beers from the fridge, he returned, handing Liam a beer and sitting down in the armchair. Liam looked at him quizzically, pointedly looking at the empty space beside him and back at Will.

"Before we get to the fun, I wanted to go over a few ground rules. We'll discuss everything in depth tomorrow, consider tonight a trial run, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." Liam took a swig of the beer and set the bottle down, giving William his full attention. "I want this, Will, whatever it takes."

"Glad to hear it, pet. First, until I say otherwise, I'm not Will anymore. When you address me, it's either Master, Master Spike, or simply Spike." Will held up a finger, stilting Liam's question. "I'll explain the Spike thing some other time. Now, you obviously like when I call you pet, and luv, would it be okay if I call you Angel, too? Just when I'm in control. I prefer having a standard nickname I can use so my subs know when they're doing well, Liam would be used as a warning or admonishment."

"Um, yeah…yes, I think I'd like that.” Liam looked away briefly, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “I liked it, earlier, when you called me your angel. More than pet, even."

"Good. Second, I'll accept, hell, I'll expect brattiness, up to a point. But never in public. Got it?"

"Got it. I understand, completely. I expected the same of my subs."

“Third, if, in the morning, we both decide we want to do this full time, I’ll schedule us both for a set of tests, the whole work-up. Tonight, and until we get the all-clear, condoms are mandatory, even for oral. It’s nothing against you, mind, I require all my subs to test for STDs regularly.”

“Trust me, I would’ve brought it up if you hadn’t. You really can’t be too careful. Did you want me to use your doctor, or…?”

“If you don’t mind. Just for the first set. Then, you can schedule them with your own. Those are the basics for now, but I do have a couple of questions.”

Liam picked up his beer and took a long pull, steeling himself for what he figured was coming.

“Go for it.”

“Startin’ with the easy one, would you like to choose a safeword?” Will leaned back in his chair, watching Liam decide. “We can skip that bit for now, if you’d like to think on it, pet. We can use the color system for tonight.”

“Yeah, I-I’ll get back to you on that one. Sorry, just a little weird, you know? Shoe on the other foot, and all that.”

“It’s okay. But this question, I will need an answer to, before we do anything tonight. Liam, have you ever bottomed before?”

Liam drained the rest of his beer and looked away.

“Pet, answer me.”

“No, never. I’ve always topped, even before I got into all this.”

William nodded thoughtfully, and stood swiftly from the chair, crossing over to sit next to Liam. He took the bottle from him and set it aside, taking both of Liam’s hands in his.

“Look at me. Liam, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Liam turned to face Will, a worried look in his eyes as he met his steady, blue gaze.

“It’s okay that you’ve never bottomed, luv. It’s okay if you never do. If you don’t want to, if you’re not ready, you don’t have to.” Will let go of one of Liam’s hands to cup his face, stroking his thumb over his cheek. “Liam, I won’t push you to do something you truly don’t want. There’s plenty of other ways to have fun, as I’m sure you know.”

Liam’s worry cleared from his eyes and he leaned into William’s touch. With the hand Will still held, he tugged the blonde closer, still staring intently into those mesmerizing blue eyes. He felt a level of trust for this man that he hadn't felt with any of his previous partners since…well, in a very long time. His mind made up, he leaned forward and crushed his lips to William's in a heated kiss, the residual dom in him temporarily surging up as he urged Will back against the cushions.

William gasped at the urgency of the kiss, not even thinking to resist as Liam took a little of the control back. The brunette needed this, and with his cock still aching for attention, he was more than willing to allow the concession as he was maneuvered along the length of the couch. Liam deepened the kiss, his tongue mapping out Will’s mouth as he stretched out on top of him, his legs parting to settle on either side of the blonde’s.

Slipping a hand between them, Liam stroked his fingers over Will’s trapped cock, moaning into the kiss as a surprisingly intense jolt of desire ran through him at the thought of that long shaft pushing into him. Good to know his body and mind were in agreement about the choice he was about to make. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, he kneeled up, looming over the wide-eyed, panting blonde.

"Fuck me. I…I want you to take me. Please, Master Spike, be my first?"

Next Chapter --->

~~~~~

All Things Spike: @leatafanfiction @captain-peroxid3

Other: @countblucas

[kanerallels]

also a B99 scene but Kanera?

Okay, admittedly what I wrote for this is... not really what you asked for. It is in my B99 au, and it's semi inspired by episode 11 (I think?) of season one! And it has Kanera so you'll like it anyways, I hope!

Taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @heckin-music-dork @day-to-day-thots @auroramagpie @firefoxtessa @opalknight (let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

“We’ll split up— we’ll be able to cover more ground that way,” Commander Fox said briskly. “Bly, you’ll come with me. D’ukal, with Kestis. Sierra, why are you here?”

“Entertainment value for my SpaceTube channel.”

“Stay out of the way, then. Jarrus, you’re with Syndulla.”

“Ooooh,” Cal said mischievously, sending Kanan and Hera a grin. He received an eye roll from Hera, and a glare from Kanan. “I mean, we’d better get going.”

“You should,” Fox said. “The first person to spot Pryce calls the others. Remember, she has hostages so do not engage without backup. Understood?”

There was a series of confirmations, and then they spread out, heading down the various paths throughout the storage facility. Kanan moved with Hera, keeping his blaster at the ready. The flickering lights overhead cast strange shadows over his companion’s face, making her thoughtful frown seem deeper. Her eyes flicked from doorway to doorway ahead, then paused on Kanan, and Hera raised an eyebrow at him.

Oh, I’m staring, Kanan realized with a stab of embarrassment. Sorry, he mouthed at her apologetically, and she gave a nod before moving forward. He followed, biting back a curse of annoyance.

He wasn’t supposed to be this transparent. It wasn’t supposed to be obvious that after their mission two months back, things had started to feel… different. Like she wasn’t just someone he enjoyed getting a rise out of, but she was a friend. Someone he trusted, cared about. Maybe more than he should have.

Kanan glanced at Hera again as she stopped by one of the doors. Definitely more than he should have.

“I think there might be someone in here,” Hera whispered, startling him out of his thoughts. “But I don’t think it’s Pryce.”

“Do we call the others?” Kanan asked in a low voice. “Because I’m on board with handling it ourselves.”

Hera pursed her lips thoughtfully, and Kanan hastily pulled his gaze away from the gesture. “Commander said not to, but—”

Before she could speak another word, there was a muffled cry from inside. A child’s cry of pain. Kanan’s eyes widened, and he met Hera’s gaze.

Her expression was steely with cold anger as she said, “Are you with me?”

“I got your back,” Kanan said, checking his blaster. “Let’s do this.”

[the-hobgoblins]

the witching hour

Who: Maeko Burke, Oz Pryce, Katie Thorne, Rue Attaway, AJ Ramesh, Xiomara Winters, Nathaniel Pinnock Where: FTB Safehouse, Putney When: Morning After Halloween, 2020

@katiethxrne @xiomarawinters @ajairamesh

Let it not go unstated that Maeko Burke thought this was a really terrible, like—extremely shit idea.

And not just because her and Oz both were hungover as all hell following a raucous Halloween fête on Hawkins territory, or the fact that she’d been watching the sunrise blooming blood orange over the horizon huddled close in conversation with one Penny Hawkins when she’d gotten the text from Katie—that the latter needed Oz to come identify a potential suspect for his attack.

‘Isn’t there anyone else u can get?’ Maeko had pushed back over text, ‘He’s just started feeling up to talking again, & being able to sleep without nightmares…’

To which Katie replied, ‘I’m sorry, kid. He’s our only survivor…it’s gotta be him.”

So with much trepidation, they gathered themselves as best they could and they made for Putney.

Maeko felt less apologetic over the state they were in when she saw the state of the FTB safehouse. Clearly, Maeko and Oz were not the only ones who had been tossed an unwanted curveball in the midst of a party. The house was in absolute shambles—and that’s coming from someone who legitimately lived in a haunted hoarder house full of creepy, broken junk.

But even more ominous was the way Nathaniel Pinnock, looking like he’d lost a particularly nasty brawl with a good night’s sleep, answered the front door and ushered them silently in—without one single condescending furrow of brow or snide remark. It was like he’d seen a ghost—

Or perhaps, something far worse.

***

Katie was about halfway through debriefing Maeko on the storied Zombie in the Closet—or, at least, she was trying to debrief them both, except that she was in a sort of frenzied state and using a lot of policey-sounding words that went over Oz’s head. Not to mention the fact that he was in such a state of anxiety that he could barely follow any three words strung together, and little flickers of ambient magic kept crackling at random points within Oz’s immediate vicinity, irritating lightbulbs and rustling bits of debris and zig-zagging tiny little chem trails of sparkly light in everyone’s peripheral vision. He was keenly aware of the battered hedges that lurked in the surreptitious pockets of the big open room, the covetous leers they fixed on Oz as he thoughtlessly disrupted—as he unwillingly commanded—the very source of their wild, unclaimable power.

Oz knew well those hungry stares; he remembered.

He swallowed, wishing the debris-stained carpet would gobble him up. ‘Mo Rúnsearc…’ Oz could almost hear Morrigan’s commanding whisper once again, could very nearly feel it graze his neck like static, making the tender flesh it kissed stand at willing attention. A prickling sensation, ineffectually forgotten, itched beneath the skin of Oz’s inked palms. He tried to catch Maeko’s attention, pleading silently, I don’t want to be here, not here, not again…

But her blue eyes, hard as frozen granite and just as sharp, were fixed on Katie.

“—and there’s a magical dark zone that seems linked to where it is, so far as we’ve found…” explained the auror, thumbs hooked in her belt loops.

“…meaning?” said Maeko flatly, her skepticism unveiled.

“Meaning hedge magic is a no-go when you’re around this thing. And no one has been able to get a wand even close. Might as well be a Muggle.”

“So how the fuck do we even get in, then?” Maeko’s voice was raised and incredulous.

Katie looked between Maeko and Oz, and then said with apology in her tone, “…well, we don’t. Oz, though…”

AJ stepped into the conversation then, having been lurking at the perimeter. He had one hand raised in greeting and the other sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “‘Sup…”

Maeko looked at AJ, and then at Katie, and snapped, “No fuckin’ way, Kat—”

“Mae, I know, but I promise you he’ll be—”

Here Maeko laughed sharp and unkind, without any real amusement—not a thing like her usual good-humored laugh. “Oh, cheers then! As if yet another promise from a fuckin’ auror means one single fuckin’ thing to me…” Katie looked immediately quite wounded by this, and Maeko sighed, rubbing her tired eyes and dropping her shoulders. “Ah hell, I’m…sorry, alright? I just meant…it seems sketch, is all. Considering.”

She met Oz’s gaze, finally, and he saw the fear and the worry that was churning there, like a storm over arctic waters that Maeko was trying to play off as aloof and irascible. But Oz knew already he would do anything that was asked of him. That was just what he did—who he was in the depths of his wretched, selfless bone marrow; he didn’t know what it meant to do anything else.

He gave Maeko a small shake of his head, and folded his clammy palms across his chest, beneath his arms. He gave the best lighthearted shrug he could muster, and smiled through his dread. “Well! Let’s have us a look at this beastie, then…”

***

There’d been thumping and commotion coming from within the room with no doors—where they were keeping that thing—and it had set everyone off, nearly trampling each other to get to that stretch of impenetrable wall to watch, and to wait. It was wallpapered with some tacky, ironic little flowers that Maeko was contemplating just blasting through with a well-aimed Reducto—magical dead zone be damned.

But Oz and AJ blipped back out, looking frazzled but unharmed. And Oz confirmed that whatever monster the hedges had locked up in the closet, it wasn’t the one that had nearly taken his life.

Katie must have had her suspicions on that from that start, because no sooner had Oz said his bit than she was nodding to herself, her face darkening in that way that signified she was parsing through a myriad of thoughts she had yet to share with any audience outside her own mind. She thanked Oz distractedly, and barely spared the attention to tell the nearest hedges that she’d circle back with them later before she was out the door to attend to business of her own.

And it should have made Maeko relieved, that they could elude more trouble and trauma so soon after Oz’s attack.

But god, for just a second, she’d let herself think they were so close—the things she could have done to that bastard if she’d had it right on the other side of a bloody wall, the things she’d been dreaming of getting to do every hour for weeks—

So when Maeko heard some of the hedges casually talking with what sounded like genuine cheer, discussing their plans to keep the monster cared for and comfortable for Merlin knows how long—after all these weeks of bottling up her anger and frustration at everything, Maeko snapped.

“Are you seriously mental?” she interrupted, her tone edged by all the unjustness they’d endured the past few weeks, and exactly how little she’d slept. “That thing tried to kill you! What the fuck are you playing at, keeping something like that locked up in a cage like a fuckin’ pet?”

The fiery one with the green eyes and thick London inflection rounded on Maeko and shot back, “Don’t you come in here all off your trolley, wavin’ your wand and waggin’ your tongue tellin’ us what we can n’ can’t do, in our own gaff, innit. Just ‘cause you got yourself some pure wizard’s blood and your fancy fuckin’ name that makes you someone out there, in here you’re no better ’n anyone else. You think it makes you special, huh? You think that big scary name’ll protect you? Pinnock’s got himself a posh name—why don’t ya ask him what good it’s done. Hell, they told me I got a cunt grandmother named Zabini and it’s never done me one lick of good, has it? So sod off, Princess—we didn’t ask for your permission or your input, ’n we don’t fuckin’ need it…”

And in a blink, the house erupted in magic.

Missiles of crackling, colored energy sliced through the air from the end of Maeko’s wand without a shred of thought behind them as she finally boiled over with simmering darkness and rage, like the very night itself given vengeful, corporeal form. Her sulfurous magic ricocheted off shields that were hastily thrown up by hedges, catapulting around the room like shrapnel. Billows of blue flame shot toward Maeko and she turned it to glass in the air before it shattered at her feet.

She was losing control of the torrent inside of her, on the liquid black night that had burned through her veins for all these years, that Maeko had so foolishly tried to bottle up and ignore—as if she could deny who and what she was, as if that dark power wouldn’t one day burst from her fragile flesh like a stoppered glass vial—

At the sound of commotion, the room had crowded with Free Traders; the green-eyed hedge had a ball of fire in one hand when Xiomara shrieked, “Rue! You are not burning down this fucking house today!” But the brand new wand that Xiomara held in her hand was pointed at Maeko, and just as she raised her own to unleash a hellish sea of biting shadow, Oz stepped in between them.

She faltered slightly at the sight of those tragic fucking eyes, her insides knotting and her voice cracking even as she furiously begged, “Oz, move.” She was seeing double, shattered by the sudden, overwhelming deja vu; tired blue eyes that Maeko had driven herself mad trying to forget—a martyred, masochistic Scottish drawl…

Oz shook his head. “I’m one a them, Mae—my blood as much as you. I can’t have ya doin’ something ya can’t take back, can’t watch ya wreck yourself tryin’ to…”

But Maeko didn’t hear the rest of it. She emitted one piercing, ravaged wail, and then disapparated.

[pkmnsdarkqueen]

Thirsty Lion

Starter for: @pulchramundii

"Can I like fire a donation clinic?"

"What?"

The man asked looking up from the vials on his desk. For the poison expert this was a regular Friday for him. Working on some new brew in the corners of his room that'd make anyone shiver. His work done with the upmost care. However the woman now had his attention as he let his current pipet sit outside its vial on a towel.

"I just.....the place I go to. Its started to feel off. I dunno maybe it's my imagination but like I don't feel safe anymore."

She explained. Now the man's neutral expression was generally a frown, but she could tell the difference. Although unknown to her the ability to read emotions aided her as the waves of concern were something she was picking up on. With a sigh she no longer leaned on his door frame not wanting the lecture that was about to follow.

"Understood, this is the last time I'll go to them. Sorry for activating protective dad mode I'm probably just reading too much into it."

"Don't apologize, just text me your location when you get there."

"Yes sir over protective sir."

She answered heading for the door.

~~~~~~

"I swear every time I come here the regular spots are full."

"Ah that's just how it is."

The woman sang. Her voice felt hollow to Karen. This whole place felt more hollow everytime she came here as if the place was growing more fake each time.

She knew when it started. It was when she began to be lead back to the room, away from the usual seats among everyone else, but to the sole spare room they said when the other spaces were full. The room with only two chairs one for the patient, and one for the doctor. Everything changed then.

The air began to smell more stale. The walls began to close in tighter. The building began to suffocate her. It felt familiar to Karen in a way she despised. It reminded her of her time with Pryce, at least back then she had his cold hand to hold when she walked down hospital tiles. Now she was an adult and yet despite being told she was safe her instincts told her something was wrong.

"You ate before this right."

"I always do. Although last time it felt like you guys took alot more than normal, I know I'm a universal donor but take it easy on me alright?"

Karen laughed lightly desperate to ease the tension trying to add some warmth as the woman tightened the band. There was a deafening pause before the woman quickly added her own forced laughed. Fake. Again, it felt fake. It felt so wrong.

The needle slipped into her skin, that was the only thing that felt normal about all of this. The pain there never changed at least. Out of all her times of being here today was the worst as all of her previous experiences were compounding. She'd already told Koga her location, but as she sat there in silence with the doctor she was tapping away on her pokegear to two other contacts. Archer, listed as ‘Who let the hound out,’ and ‘Coo-Coo Bird’ otherwise known as Ho-oh. In code saying,"Donating blood, this location, see you soon." She hadn't thought before this it'd be needed, but her fear was rising. With it an idea. If the idea went south, and there really was something up with this place she'd want them to know.

She started simple patting at her sides, checking pockets which caused the woman to look up from her constant note taking.

"Uh, ma'am I think I dropped my wallet. Can you go check for me. I'd love to but uh, well-"

Karen shrugged nodding to the obvious issue of the blood currently being dragged from her arm.

"Miss Karen-"

"I know it's silly but I mean it's an elite fours wallet, kind of have important stuff in there."

Karen pressed watching the woman swallow her annoyance before slipping into yet another forced smile. Just one real emotion. Why couldn't they do that? Karen wondered as the woman stood heading for the door.

"Sure miss, I'll look for it."

As she left the woman left the clip board she'd been writing on in the door as she often did anytime she left the room. Perfect, now to cause a little Trouble. The bird was aptly named Trouble, and Karen discreetly let the pokemon out of its ball to do what he did best, steal. The little bird flapped over bringing the clipboard over to his human. Hs a touch of warmth in this cold room receiving scritches under the chin for his good work. Finally she was able to look at the notes.

The brief warmth was sapped away as she read the first line.

'Subject is showing great dislike to the isolation. Subject empathetic tendencies continue to plague process. Subject seems to be uncomfortable still. Subject, Subject, subject.'

The word kept repeating for Karen along with the notes listed. Subject. She was a subject again, so she was an experiment. But, but how? But why!? She felt her breath start to pick up, and shorten and her chest tighten as she continued to read looking desperately for any lines referencing what she dreaded to read.

There on the second page was the words she didn't want to see.

"Subjects tests still show no odd readings linking her to Ho-oh other than reaction to disease. More study needed."

What was happening. Karen's world felt like it was coming down. Everything was collapsing, they knew. Someone knew, she didn't know who, but someone knew. The thoughts kept coming. Like a blizzard in her mind the cold was gripping her in the room all she could do was ask questions. None of them giving her any answers. Empath? Disease? What was happening!?

Her pokemon saw her begin to sense her panic and hopped on her lap quickly nudging her hand and nipped at her fingers lightly to draw her back to reality. He wasn't her usual service pokemon, but had seen Drake do it enough to get the idea. He watched Karen begin the breathing exercises to ground her back to work her way out of a panic attack as her gaze flicked up to see a security camera in the room.

Shit.

Maybe they didn't watch the feed till later. She just had to play this a bit longer. Then she could leave. Karen justified feeling the icy grip of panic begin to melt away. Quickly snapping pictures of the two pages she handed the clipboard back to her pokemon to put back. Once that was done she quickly returned the pokemon, and relaxed back into the seat to wait for the woman to return to the stifling yellow glow of blinking fluorescent lights. Just, act normal.

[kosmosian-quills]

Torn Apart

Returning briefly from my hiatus to deliver a short little thing set in @cirianne’s Street Magic Universe! Featuring Charlie making a decision a little too easily.

I hope you enjoy!

POV: Charlie

Tuesdays are normally a quiet day at the office.

With no major Council briefings to attend to, my duty was to attend to the many jobs that my role as the Spokesman for Interior Affairs depended on me for. Speaking with Commanders, scientists, wardens of academies. All people who report to me on findings, of which I then report to the Council itself. And considering the epidemic that magic is on our society, it’s an important job to be sure.

But I really have only one job today.

At 9am sharp, I stroll past my secretary - a brown-haired beauty named Stephanie or something - and into my waiting office. As opulent and spacious as it is, today it feels claustrophobic and sterile. It feels not like the place I am particularly comfortable working in. There is something I need to do before I -

Buzzzzz!

I sigh, shoving my briefcase to the floor and pressing the button on my intercom. “Yes?”

“Councilwoman Pryce to see you, sir,” Stephanie tells me through the metallic haze of noise.

I fight to keep the groan from being audible as I respond. “Send her in.”

I don’t have any time to look more presentable than I already am, and simply find myself stood behind my desk waiting for the Councilwoman to come in. My desk feels filthy today, and I haven’t even started yet.

The door clicks open, and in steps one of the few women democratically elected into the Council - Councilwoman Jillian Pryce.

Pryce is a middle aged woman, newly elected onto the Council and very by the books about pretty much anything. I suppose technically, she is one of the newer Council members, but she has held this job for a few years. She is newly appointed as Speaker for the Council. I truly doubt fun was ever a word in her vocabulary, and I pity her husband - if she has one. Her hair tied up into a tight bun on the back of her head, her arms folded in that dull grey suit of hers. She’s wearing a brooch on the top button of her blouse where a tie would be. The heels of her shoes click loudly on the wooden floor of my office, and I just know I’m in for some kind of stern reprimand from my own colleague here.

I force my lips into the charming smile that I know I am famous for. “Jill, what a pleasant surprise. Sorry I’m not too presentable this morning, but I just arrived and haven’t had my coffee yet,” I reach forward to the intercom again, “Stephanie, will you get me and Jill some coffee?”

“Tea will do, thank you Councilman Atwood,” she replies, standing right in front of my desk, her stare hardening as she enunciates my title.

“Tea, then,” I repeat, “for the Councilwoman.”

“Yes, sir.”

I release the button and stand tall, watching as her stare never falters from my direct eye contact.

“Councilman Atwood, we have a problem,” she states.

“Do we?”

“Yes, we do. Don’t try and pretend you don’t know what I am talking about. This needs to be sorted today.”

“Which problem of mine are you referring to, Councilwoman Pryce?” I ask, taking a seat at my desk and pointedly ignoring the stares on my desk. “I thought I was quite clear in my report that I am disavowing that girl completely.”

She shakes her head at me, her voice stern and even, like a schoolteacher reprimanding a disruptive child. “That is not good enough and we both know it. You can shrug this off as much as you want, but the fact is that the public will hear about this and they will want to see your response to the situation. They see everything.”

“I have made my position regarding her -”

She raises a hand up from her folded arms, and silences me. “No, you have not. Actions speak louder than words Councilman. The situation with your daughter is one that requires you to set an example to the country, and the way I see it, you have two options.”

The mention of my daughter makes me cast a glance at the photograph on my desk, the one that has been staring at me. I reach over and slam it face down onto the desk, getting those once innocent green eyes off my back.

Pryce holds up her index finger as she continues.

“One. You can behave loving and caring with her, you can use her to show off how nice mages can be with the right education in our academies. With the right amount of love and devotion to the government, she can be used to set an impression on the families who have children with magic also. Set them at ease a little, to know that their children are in good hands, and they are valuable to us.”

“Councilwoman Pryce, I cannot make such a u-turn on my very public beliefs regarding magic.” I interrupt her idealistic little speech, and she returns her hand to its previously folded position, “as you said yourself, the public see everything, and for them to see me turn around so quickly when they hear that she was my daughter? They will smell a rat, and I lose my hard line voters. That is unacceptable to me.”

“I thought you might say that.” She shrugs. “The second option is to stick to your line of evil mutants and cut her out of your life completely. No do overs, no second chances. She is out of your life, publicly, and you set the example that you aren’t letting family get in the way of your devotion to your country.”

The door opens and Stephanie comes in holding a tray. My promised coffee, and Pryce’s requested tea, freshly brewing in a ceramic pot, little containers of sugar, milk and creamers clattering on the tray. She doesn’t say a word as she sets it on the desk, places my coffee mug in front of me, and pours out the tea into the little teacup.

“Black, one sugar, please,” Pryce says aside to Stephanie, who diligently made the drink as it was requested. “Option one has the risk of Lilly… shall we say, going Rivera which I honestly don’t consider likely. If you keep her in the public eye with love and support, I highly doubt she would do something like that.”

Going Rivera. Oh please, I highly doubt that the girl would go as far as to even be compared to Rivera. She wouldn’t say boo to a goose. Besides, Rivera was a known terrorist who killed before she was taken to an academy to be dealt with. God, how many years ago was that now? When I had first dealt with her myself, Lilly must have still been a toddler.

Once Pryce’s tea is made, Stephanie takes her leave, hurrying out of the door and leaving us to have our meeting once more.

“Option two has the risk of you losing sympathies among the more family oriented voters - which I do not blame them for - but the hard line voters will be content with your actions. You’d have to do something to try and earn back the family voters, and given the situation it would have to be something big. But there can be no in between, Councilman Atwood.”

I pick up my mug of coffee and take a long sip, hoping for the caffeine to hit me quickly so that I can get Pryce out of my office to deal with this my way.

“I either use her as a prop, or hard cut her out of my life. I understand, Councilwoman Pryce,” I place the coffee down on my desk again, and I finally take my seat. “It’s not like this can be hidden anyway.”

“Which is why you need to deal with this today. Completely. I understand it’s a hard choice for a father to make, but -”

“I already gave you my answer, Councilwoman,” I lean forwards on my desk, “she is forever out of my life.”

Her face remains stoic, not flinching as I said that to her. “I had a feeling you’d go with that option. I would have preferred option one, but you have made your choice. Now you need to do something about it.”

She turns about, and makes her way to the door. I notice the steaming cup of tea is still there, untouched, on my desk.

“Jill, your tea -!”

“Can’t stop for tea, I’m afraid.” She doesn’t even turn to face me as she opens the door, “I have a lot to do today, Councilman, as do you.”

The sound of Pryce’s footsteps clacking down the corridor, slowly getting quieter as she gets further away, leaving me alone in my office with a tea I won’t drink.

Well. She isn’t wrong. I have a lot to do today, and I suppose now is the best time to start.

I grab a hold of the photo frame beside my computer, the one I faced down before, and I look at it properly.

It’s a family photo, taken just barely a month ago. It features three children smiling and laughing up at the camera. Two boys and a girl. All three of them green-eyed, the elder two with blond hair. The younger boy was brown-haired, curly and small. The older girl and boy with wide grins as the boy lifted up their younger brother.

Lilly, Peter, Max.

I open up the back of the frame and remove the picture, carefully tearing through the thick photo paper, right through so that the girl is totally separated from the boys.

I look over the new picture, my two sons having fun there. I place that just underneath the monitor, sticking it there with a tiny piece of tape. I carefully place the frame in one of the drawers by my side.

Without looking, I crumple up the other half of the photo and throw it into the waste bin beside me.

[ex-vengeancedemon]

A Night at the Opera

Main Pairing: Cordelia Chase x Winifred Burkle

Characters: Cordelia Chase, Winifred (Fred) Burkle, Charles Gunn, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

Summary: Set after Fred is rescued from Pylea and Angel is gone to grieve Buffy's death. Someone needs to help Fred come out of her shell - her shell being her room. Cordelia was making great progress... until she was hit with another head-splitting vision.

I guess there's a total of like 10 fanfictions on ao3 with this pairing (a shame) so I had to write it myself. Chapter 1 below cut. Read here or on ao3.

Chapter Index (out of 3):

Check Back for Updates

Chapter 1

"So," Gunn said, tapping his fingers on the front desk and looking over his shoulder. "Has she come out at all yet?"

Cordelia looked up from the case file she had been perusing and gave a wane smile. "I think she's making progress. She peaks her head out of her room sometimes now."

"Ah, yes," Wesley said. "Progress indeed."

The truth was that the hotel's new guest had been almost completely confined to her room since Angel had left. It was understandable. Winifred Burkle had been a captive of the dimension, Pylea, for the past 5 years, during which she spent her time living in a cave and writing on the walls. In a way, her room was her new cave... and she had yet to break the whole 'writing on walls' habit. Angel had been her savior, the one she trusted most. And he had left to take some time to... well, to mourn Buffy.

Cordy, Wes, and Gunn had been taking turns delivering food outside her door, primarily tacos. They would knock. She wouldn't answer. And they would leave the food on the floor outside. When they returned to check, the food would be gone. Cordelia had spotted her a few times from down the hall. Just glimpses here and there. Fred was still skittish, even of them.

"She can't stay up there forever," Gunn said, shaking his head. He stopped abruptly, as if reconsidering his prior statement. "She can't. Can she?"

Wesley sighed. "She spent five years in a cave with no plumbing. What's a month in a hotel room?"

Cordelia smiled and raised her pen. "With room service."

Gunn rolled his eyes, his eyes again wandering to the once grand staircase as if Fred might come walking down. "I don't know. It just doesn't seem like isolation is the way to help her reintegrate, you know?"

Wes nodded, but he seemed more focused on searching for a tome on the bookshelf than the conversation at hand. "Agreed."

"Well then," Cordelia said, turning to Gunn. "Why don't you go help reintegrate her then?"

Gunn shook his head. "Can't. Told Rondell I'd help him clean out a vamp nest setting up roots in the neighborhood. Gotta head out in an hour."

"Alright Wes, guess you're up to bat then," Cordelia amended.

"Hmm?" Wesley asked, looking up from a thick text coated in odd runic symbols. "What was that?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes and groaned. "Never mind!"

If you want something done... Guess she would have to be vision girl, office manager, detective, and guide to the newbie. That was fine. She could multitask.

Cordelia stood up from her desk, straightened her case files, and walked up the stairs like she knew exactly what she was going to do when she reached Fred's door.

She didn't.

When she reached Fred's door, she took a deep breath and knocked. Then she waited. And waited. There was no answer. She couldn't even hear any movement on the other side.

"Fred?" Cordy called out through the door. "It's me, Cordelia. Are you in there?"

After a long moment, a quiet voice replied, "Yeah. I'm fine, just fine! Thanks for checking. Bye!"

"Good! That's good!" Cordelia said, registering the jumpiness in her voice. "Can I come in? Maybe we could talk for a bit?"

"Talk? Yes, I've been thinking about the acoustics of the hotel and how the sound wave frequencies often seem to match the resonance of the ventilation system creating the disturbing creaks that seem to be everywhere at once and-" Fred's voice cut off. "Oh... well I suppose that probably wasn't what you wanted to talk about."

Cordelia nodded her head slowly. "Uh...huh... Well, I think the sound waves might travel better if you opened the door."

"Oh, right." Fred chuckled nervously and Cordelia could hear multiple bolts being unlocked.

Fred slowly opened the door a crack and gave a small smile. She pursed her lips and finally opened the door all the way.

Motioning an awkward invitation with her arm, Fred said, "Come in."

Cordelia walked into the dim room with the lights all off and the curtains drawn. She would almost think this was Angel's room given the seeming aversion to the light. However the darkness wasn't the most interesting thing about the room. Neither were the food wrappers that were scattered around on the floor. No, the most interesting thing in the room was the wall. Or rather, the walls. They were covered in hasty scrawl, most of which was impossible to make heads or tails of. Cordelia had no idea what it meant, only that it covered an extensive amount of wall space from the floor to the ceiling.

"Sorry for the mess," Fred said, kicking away a few stray wrappers with a measure of embarrassment. "Wasn't expectin' company."

"No!" Cordy replied, trying her best to sound reassuring. "Really, it's fine. I just came barging in!" She glanced around at the walls. "I love what you've done with the place! Very artsy. Custom wallpaper is all the rage these days."

Fred smiled and looked down at the floor. She seemed like she was trying to make herself smaller, to hide even in plain sight. For someone who was already petite to begin with, she looked downright tiny now.

"I just...," Fred began, "I just have to write it down. Don't wanna forget. To lose it. You know, things get lost. You think it and then it's gone. The electrochemical responses of the brain just don't leave a long enough impression for you to capture it indefinitely and the memory is so fallible and-"

"Fred, Fred," Cordelia cut her off with an empathetic look. "It's okay. You don't have to explain yourself to me. If you want to write on the walls, you write on the walls." Cordelia put up her hands and grinned. "And you know what? If you run out of wall, we can paint the walls and you can start over again."

Finally, Fred laughed. It was a quiet, nervous laugh, but Cordelia could tell it was genuine. She thought it was the first genuine laugh she'd heard Fred make since they met. It was sweet.

"You know I could get you some notebooks though," Cordelia continued. "You know, if you'd like."

"Gee I almost forgot about notebooks," Fred replied, "and pencils. In Pylea, I just used a sharp rock and some cypril powder."

"What's-"

"It's the excrement of-"

Cordelia held up a hand. "Never mind! I'm good."

Fred nodded, unfazed by Cordelia's reaction.

"Do you know when Angel will be back?" Fred asked suddenly. "He's been gone for a long time. You don't think- Well, he is coming back, right? He didn't just leave forever...right?"

Cordelia was taken aback by the anxiety and fear in Fred's voice. She knew they had bonded in Pylea. She may have underestimated just how much.

Cordelia shook her head vigorously. "No, no. Of course, he's coming back! He just needed some time to process and grieve."

"Over Buffy?"

"Yeah." Cordelia frowned, the news of Buffy's death had hit Angel hard. She hoped the meditation was helping him... but she kind of doubted it. "Buffy was his first love. And then she died. And he wasn't there."

Fred bit her cheek. "His first love. Right. That...that makes sense."

Cordelia moved to put a hand on Fred's shoulder, but Fred flinched and pulled away. Cordelia hastily pulled her hand back.

"Don't worry, he'll be back," Cordelia said, trying to reassure with her eyes instead. "I'm sure he's-"

A blinding flash of searing, white hot pain shot its way through Cordelia's head and all the way down her spine. She screamed out and collapsed to the floor, no longer able to see. Her body felt like it was on fire. It was as if she were having a migraine, heart attack, and stroke all at once while simultaneously being hit by a bus, soaked in gasoline, and set on fire. No, it was worse than that.

She could faintly hear Fred somewhere in the distance, but she couldn't make out what she was saying. Then her hearing was overtaken by screams that weren't her own. Flashes of a scene played out before her unseeing eyes. A girl. Brunette, dressed in an unmistakable designer Tommy Hilfiger dress.

Cordelia relayed the specifics through the pain to whoever might be listening. The girl was being chased by a vampire dressed in a suit. In some kind of theatre? Cordelia snapped out of the vision and the pain subsided slightly. It left her exhausted and aching all over.

She blinked a few times as her sight returned. Wesley and Gunn where hovering over her looking concerned. She felt the pillow beneath her head shift and she realized suddenly that her head was resting in Fred's lap. Fred leaned over so Cordelia could see her and brushed some stray hair out of her face.

"Did you guys get all that?" Cordelia asked, closing her eyes as she fought back a wave of nausea.

"Yeah," Gunn replied. "You got anymore information on this theatre?"

Cordelia thought back to the vision, trying to get a feel for it. "Um, definitely upscale. I think it's downtown. It was during a performance. Um, an opera. Aida."

Wesley nodded. "Okay, I'll go see what I can find about a showing of Aida at the downtown theatres. Gunn, I think you have a prior engagement you should be getting to." He then turned back to Cordelia. "We'll be back soon. You should get some rest."

Cordelia nodded and Gunn and Wesley left the room.

"How are you feelin'?" Fred looked down at her with concern, her long brown hair dangling over Cordelia's face. "You really gave me a fright."

Cordelia sighed and closed her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "The visions can be pretty... well, ugly. But it's over now. I'll be fine."

Fred bit her cheek again. Cordelia didn't think she had quite fooled the surprisingly perceptive physicist. Fred continued to run her fingers over Cordelia's hair in a calming gesture and Cordelia drifted off. She could sleep here... just for a minute.

[prose-for-hire]

Secret Santa

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1

Pairing: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce x reader

Request: If you're still accepting winter requests could I have a wesley x reader where the reader tells wesley that they still stubbornly believe in Santa claus so he gets them a gift and they do the "Santa's handwriting looks suspiciously like yours" line? I love your writing btw and hope you have a good winter!

Requested by: @alltheangstmygifttoyou​

You were sat in the library with your nose in a book. He had joined you again. The same guy, always sat two seats away from you. He never spoke to you, sometimes he glanced over when he thought you weren’t looking. You were relaxed in his presence, not many could do that. For some unknown reason in your soul, you trusted him.

You came here for fun, to find a peaceful place to read. Your apartment was full of roommates and you paid too much for very little personal space. So you spent a lot of your free time here. It was an escape from the mundane. You went on epic adventures, got lost in new lands. Met angels and demons. Read tales of good and evil. You could only dream of being a part of something like that. It was everything you wanted. Sometimes you read non-fiction. Wanting to absorb as much information as you could. You liked learning and you knew knowledge was important. The guy often noted what you were reading, he was fascinated by the array of texts you would read.

This man, a rogue demon hunter by night and a regular of the library by day was named Wesley. He had been travelling since his stint as a watcher in Sunnydale and had settled here for the moment. The truth was, Wesley had been building up the courage to speak to you for a while. He loved to sit in the library it had a great atmosphere for when he needed to focus. But since he had noticed you, the last thing he could do was focus.

He caught your eye often and sometimes you shared a smile. It was as if you were both holding your breath, seeing if the other would make a move first. But neither of you did. That was, until one day. In early December. Today. You had been to the market earlier that day and had decided to treat yourself by buying yourself some old trinket from the flea market on your way to the library. This had caught the man’s eyes and you smiled. But today, he didn’t smile back. He was staring from your neck to your face with concern. He paused for a moment, but he had to say something.

“H-Hello, could I, um, borrow that necklace?” he whispered and pointed at the chain around your neck. You blinked at him. Your frown now matching his. He never spoke to you before and the first thing he wanted was to borrow the gold chain around your neck. He hadn’t complimented it. Hadn’t said that he liked how unique it was. Just asked you to remove it.

“No, it’s mine. Sorry” you shifted away from him trying to get back into your book. But he persisted moving seats right beside you.

“it’s glowing and… leaking a yellow liquid that I know for certain is a concentration of yak’s blood and wolfsbane” He stated trying to get you to understand. The necklace had been dipped in the potion and cursed to hold something by his quick assessment of the situation.

“Sorry, you’ll have to get your own. Perhaps put it on your Christmas list to Santa” You offered unhelpfully as he looked at you aghast at the suggestion. Especially so when

“There is no such thing as Santa, now won’t you please listen to what I’m saying”

“I’ve seen you around here, you know… I had been hoping you would say something but you never did” You said slowly frowning at the way he had denounced Santa so easily, “Now I know why, you’re basically Scrooge McDuck”

“I assume that this is some caricature of one Ebenezer Scrooge and not a backhanded compliment” He muttered, shaking his head. He had imagined your first interaction going a lot smoother than this. He remembered what he was trying to do and focused on the threat instead, “I just think it would be wise for you to remove the chain and pass it over to me slowly” he said, his arms raised to highlight how serious he was. You got up to leave and he followed you out.

“But this was my Christmas present to myself, I found it on the market! And, even if I wasn’t attached to the chain, you just ruined my favourite time of year by denying Santa’s existence!” You hissed at him as you left the main room of the library and into the corridor leading to the exit.

“What are you talking about-”

“You know that the magic of Christmas, and more importantly, Santa only works if you believe” you insisted, your face deadly serious as you turned back to look at him. Stopping dead in the corridor.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Just- give me the-” he grabbed at the necklace and tugged it, breaking the clasp and pulling it from your neck. You frown, trying to snatch it back. You end up doing a crude tug-of-war with the gold chain.

This was when you both felt a white hot heat burning your fingertips. You both knew you had messed up as you yelped in unison and dropped the chain to the ground. A white light blinded you both momentarily and when it disappeared a demon was towering over you. Your eyes widened. You had never seen anything like it. You had a certain level of belief in the things you could not see or explain but you had never considered something like this. Never expected anything like the fantasy you had read in books to become a reality. But there was no other explanation than this was a demon. Perhaps it came from the books… or, oh, of course. The necklace.

“Who hath summoned me? Reveal yourself!” The booming voice echoed around the corridor as he shrugged off the tinsel he had knocked down from the walls as he had appeared. He stamped on it for good measure and scowled around.

A librarian came to tell the group to be quiet, her finger hovering over her lip ready to motion you to be silent. However, when she saw the identity of the one making all the noise she backed out of the hall and back through the double doors into the main library, shaking her head. That was more trouble than it was worth.

That left you, the Englishman and this unusual creature that kind of looked half yak, half Santa clause if he had spent the night passed out in a bush. He even had jingle bells on the lining of his cloth outfit.

“Speak, child! Who dares stand before me?!” the giant pointed at you. But Wesley stepped in front of you.

“Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, demon hunter” He recited, staring in his eyes and hoping nobody else saw his slight shaking.

“You wish to hunt me as sport? Do you know who I am?” he asked.

“Hogroth, warrior demon of the Land of Lap” Wesley stated quickly. Your eyes widened. This was too good to be true. Well, it would be if a demon who was tangled up in tinsel as if it was a web

Hogroth unsheathed his weapon and Wesley quickly started to fight against him.

After trading blows and dodging the sharp edge of the sword, Wes managed to knock the weapon from his hand. This appeared to even surprise himself. He grabbed the sword and pointed it at his chest before slashing at it. They fought against each other as you watched on like a spare part,  with the demon unwrapping the tinsel from its upper arm and used it to try and strangle Wesley.

You couldn’t let this happen. You needed a distraction. You shrugged, remembering something you had read in a fight scene. You might as well give this a go. If it was a dream you would just wake up and if it wasn’t, well, you tried to push that thought away. You ran up and jumped onto his back covering his eyes as he hit out wildly. Hogroth grabbed you and flipped you over his head leaving you landing hard on the floor. Wesley saw his chance and plunged the demon’s own knife into his heart. This left him sinking to his knees and disappearing in the same way he came. You managed to haul yourself up, breathing heavily and wondering if there had been something stronger than nutmeg in the Christmas cookies one of your roommates had given you before you left the house that day.

“Thank you, for helping me” Wesley said sincerely, “It means a great deal to me, and I do apologise about your, uh, jewellery” he motioned to the blackened scorch mark that had once been your nice chain.

“Don’t mention it” You shrugged, a lot cooler than you felt. You were still a little bemused. But of course you would help him even if you were still a little put out from the way he had so cruelly cut down your talk of Santa. You liked the magic of Christmas and if a Hogwarts demon, or whatever it was that the man said he was existed then why not Santa? It was hypocritical but you supposed it wasn’t really a necessary argument. You decided to just say your goodbyes although you did avoid the library for a while after this. You decided to have some space away from the demon you had watched die and also the self-appointed demon hunter who had insisted Santa didn’t exist.

Finally, you caved. It was the week leading up to Christmas and you had to go to return your books before the library closed for the holidays. You also needed some time out of the apartment, someone new had moved in and you had no plans over the holiday season not just because you expected your room to have been rented out if you left too far away from town. You decided the coast was clear and you stowed away in a corner to read with some peace. Time had passed and you had been transported to amazing worlds that were detailed on the pages. It made you think about what had happened. About the possibility there were real adventures out there. Real monsters to vanquish. Real heroes. Real people to offer your heart to.

“I wish to apologise properly” a familiar English voice spoke, pulling you from your thoughts. One that had been in your mind since that day. The day you met a demon for the first time. The day you met a man that you could see as a kind of angel. He sat down opposite you, a low table with a poinsettia between you.

“That’s okay, I think Santa’s the one you should be apologising to really” You say without looking up from your page, although you had stopped reading.

He just nodded once and slid a wrapped box towards you. It made you close your book slowly, looking first at him and then the gift. You cautiously reached out and turned over the note attached.

Dear y/n,

I hope that you can forgive Wesley he really likes you – it is the season of forgiveness.

He’s sorry.

Love, Santa

“Santa’s handwriting looks suspiciously like yours” You say seriously which actually made him smile wide. He was fond of you before he had even gotten to know you fully. One more look from your bright eyes or a smile from your lips and he was yours. Forever. It really was a storybook romance as you had been worrying about believing too easily. He couldn’t help but want to be with you, want to protect you. And he hoped this gift would mean that you forgave him and you could get to know each other better.

“You do not know what Santa’s handwriting looks like” He murmured, but you gave him a look as if to say of course you did. Your attention then moved to the gift. You opened the packaging slowly, savouring the moment. You had this feeling. Like this magic inside. You knew deep down that this was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your days with.

When you opened it, a perfect chain was laying on the velvet material. You gasped, trying to insist he didn’t have to do it. This was too much for an acquaintance to give.

“You lost your necklace, of course you needed a new one” He said simply, not allowing himself to gush the very feelings he had now started to harbour. It was too much to put on a person too quick. He had never believed in the kind of love in movies, much less love at first sight. But he truly understood it now.

“But I haven’t got you anything…” you say softly.

“I think, perhaps, you could do me the honour of going on a date with me? I am new here”

“Demon hunting keeps you on the road?” You say and he looks away a little embarrassed. You could see this meant a lot to him. He was lonely, “I can think of a better present” You offered, leaning in. Your eyes cast towards his lips and then back up to his eyes. He threaded his hand between the hair at the base of your neck, pulling you into him. Your lips met and a growing fever ignited inside the both of you. Your affections growing. The potential of this union a dizzying prospect. Your lips moved together softly, such feeling transferring between each other.

This Christmas was the start of a true adventure. Falling in love had been the easy part. But learning of the true extent of the demon underworld and meeting some of Wesley’s acquaintances brought more danger. You wouldn’t trade your place to be back in that cramped apartment without Wesley in your life though. For a start, he let you decorate the flat you shared in any way you liked for Christmas. He often helped and listened to direction with an adoring smile on his face when he looked at you.

Nothing ever took you away from each other. And nothing ever took Christmas away from you. Every year you celebrate with gusto and every year you can feel yourself falling more and more in love for your dorky rogue demon hunter. No matter what anyone else thought of him, he would always be your hero. Since the first day you properly met.

[shehath-awakened]

Beautiful Deaths: chapter three

A/N: here it issss, ahah. sorry this took me so long but thanks for hanging in there. finally came up with a title yayyy. once again thank you to all of you who are reading, liking, reblogging and commenting! i really love writing this and i hope you love the chapter :)

The following day, you shifted into the form of one of Rosa’s ex-girlfriends under the guise that you were ‘picking up some of your stuff’. this was Rosa’s idea and honestly, it was the best idea you both came up with after an entire night of brainstorming. 

***

“So, can you make yourself look like anything?” she said after the third drink. She was sitting backwards on an armchair with her legs up in the air, her head hanging off the seat. You were lying on the open floor on the rug looking up at Rosa, so your heads were nearly touching.

 “I guess, within reason. I haven’t tested it out that much. What’s your idea?” you looked at the upside-down detective, her black hair cascading to the floor. She told you her plan, her eyes not leaving yours for a moment.

 “How does that work anyway? The shifting? How do you do it?” you looked back up at the ceiling contemplating her question. In all honesty you didn’t really know. When you did try to work on your abilities, something could easily go wrong, and it had. Oh so many times...

 “I can't explain it,” you stated after a pause. “all I know is that if i think really hard about what I want to become... it just happens” you said with a shrug.

***

“God it’s weird to see you as my ex” Rosa exclaimed as you climbed off her bike when you had arrived at the precinct. You couldn’t help the slight hint of a smirk that came to your cheeks over this remark paired with the detective’s eyes moving over your body.

Taking off your helmet you looked over to her still holding the smirk and began walking into the building.

 “It won’t be for long, I just need time to come up with a more permanent solution” you loved the life you had built for yourself and you weren’t going to give it up that easily. Other people might wonder why you were being so paranoid, but, to your knowledge, your powers were unlike those of mutations, making you the only person in new york- potentially the world- with abilities like yours. You couldn't risk Shield taking you in for experimentation. The squad had been briefed on your temporary appearance the night before so none should be shocked when you walked into the bullpen. This, however did not stop Hitchcock forgetting and attempting to hit on you believing you were actually Rosa’s ex-girlfriend.

 Once that had all been sorted out, you and the squad met in the secret location Jake had come up with at the agreed upon time of 9:30 am. Of course, he had decided to come up with an overly elaborate code for everyone to solve revealing the location within the precinct which, unsurprisingly contained multiple Die-Hard references. No doubt Gina helped captain Holt with those sections as he was also there when you and Rosa arrived.

 “Great everyone is here” Jake began as you entered the covert room. “now, before we get to the boring stuff, tell me how awesome the clues were”

“Jake” Amy gently chastised him.

“right, (y/n)’s life is in danger yup” the detective corrected himself quickly.

 “unfortunately, we haven’t come up with a solution yet.” He continued, now looking directly at you. “Shields have such major ties within government and the NYPD that they’d be able to scout you out in a heartbeat.”

 “Is there not any way you can talk to them (y/n)? See what they want?” Boyle spoke up.

 “it’s too risky.” Rosa stated matter-of-factly. “we don’t actually know why they are looking for her, what if it's malicious?” she had an edge to her tone you noticed, what was it? Protectiveness? From then on you stood in silence whilst the squad bickered about what was the best plan of action. You were beginning to feel as the walls were closing in on you and your mouth had gone very dry, very quickly, that wasn’t good.

Once again you feel eyes on you as you look up and see the squad staring at you. You really needed to stop zoning out like that.

 “(y/n)? you okay?” Serg looked at you with concern in his eyes but also with that tint of fear he gets whenever Rosa is having one of her moments. You looked down and saw what the squad were staring at, your body had a green glow surrounding it. You realized that you had possibly been too deep in thought, you'd lost control before but twice in the past 24 hours was a new high score. You took a few deep breaths and the glow was gone as if it had never been there.

 You hesitated, not trusting yourself to speak without vomiting, this had all escalated so damn quickly. Why did you ever have to throw that goddamn chair?

“I-uh-um… I need some air” and with that you left the room stalking up to the bullpen and then onto the roof grabbing a glass of water on your way. For a while you just sat and looked over the streets of Brooklyn.

 How did I get myself into this situation? You internally cursed yourself. That was when you heard the door open and shut behind you.

 “(y/n)?” Jake's voice pulled you from your thoughts, you could hear that his voice, just like Terry's had been, was laced with concern. You turned around to see him slowly approach you as you would a distressed animal so you gave him a smile to let him know he could join you.

 Jake came to sit beside you with both your legs dangling off the ledge. You don’t know how long you two sat there in silence until you broke it.

 “I don’t know what to do.” You said, now using your own voice instead of the distorted one. “maybe Charles is right, maybe I should just go and speak to them? See what they want?” You wanted to sound brave but the quiver in your voice gave you away.

 “No. No I won’t let you do that. You heard Rosa. We have no idea what they really want with you”

 “It can’t be worse than running” you turned to look Jake in the eye. You were truly exhausted from all those years of hiding, pretending. He looked defeated, it hurt him that you were in this situation. Facing the impossible. You went to rest your head on his shoulder, relaxing for the first time in what felt like years. Jake captured your hand in his, holding it as though you would slip through his touch. Again, you sat in silence. You closed your eyes and listened to the traffic below you. The whirr of car engines, the sound of their horns, the civilians down below. Eventually you zoned in on the breathing beside you, the rhythmic intake and release of oxygen. You attempted to match Jake’s breathing to yours, perhaps in effort to be closer to him or to become invisible to the world.

 “Okay, I’m going to go back in there.” Jake broke the silence this time. “the squad and I will come up with something, I promise. We won’t let you down (y/n)” he gave your hand a squeeze and told you to come back inside when you were ready. You sat for a little longer, finishing your glass of water and then decided to return to the bullpen. 

*** 

 As soon as you re-entered the building you felt off. You couldn’t explain it but there was this surge of energy nearby, almost as though the air was filled with static electricity but only you could feel it. You looked around the bullpen and saw nothing out of the ordinary, that is until the elevator doors opened revealing a certain god of mischief.

“shit” you cursed under your breath and attempted to quickly make your way back to the squad. You had nearly made it out of the bullpen but you suddenly found yourself face to face with Loki. Disguising your voice once more you spoke to the god.

 “excuse me” you mustered your courage to look him in the eye hoping you had hidden yourself effectively enough so he couldn’t recognize you.

 “I do apologise miss—”

“Pryce, Jocelyn Pryce” you gave the name of your cover as Rosa’s ex.

“miss Pryce” Loki replied “I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the lavatories”

“Sorry, I don’t work here, you can ask one of the officers and they’ll be able to tell you” you said keeping yourself from running away at full speed like every sinew in your body wanted you to. “if you’ll excuse me I have to get—” you attempted to walk past but before you could take another step you felt his hand on your upper arm, not harsh, but firm enough to keep you from getting free.

 Still looking ahead of himself Loki spoke again.

“enough games lady, I know who you are. I simply want to have a chat” he said gently, but loudly enough for you to hear.

 Of course he knew, he knew yesterday when you were appearing as a fucking dog. Your heart began beating a mile a minute, you tried once again to walk away but Loki still held you, unyielding.

 “I wish you no harm, detective. The avengers do not even know I am here. I simply have a few questions I need answered.”

“so speaks the literal god of lies” you retorted your voice once again fading back to normal. Loki chuckled and looked you in the eyes.

“this is true, but something tells me you are a good judge of character”

You held his gaze, looking for any nuance of dishonesty in it. He was right, ever since you were little you had been able to read people extraordinarily well. It’s what made you such a good detective.

“okay” you finally gave in. “but not here” you looked to see if anyone was watching and took hold of his shoulder. Loki gave you a puzzled look but before he could comment you had teleported the two of you to where the rest of the squad were while also dropping the disguise.

 As you began to teleport the two of you however you felt a strong pull, no, more like a tug. Before you could react, you found yourself materializing right outside the avenger’s tower.

***

“what the hell, Loki?!” you growled under your breath. You got ready to teleport back to the precinct but Loki held you just above your elbow.

“I wouldn’t try going back, we just teleported a long way and from what I can tell you do not have the power right now” he warned. Loki was right, you even tried to don your disguise again but were too drained even for that. You glared at him.

“why the fuck did you bring me here? You said you only needed to ask a few questions” you tried getting away but he still held your arm and not moving.

“I had those questions answered for me when you began to teleport us. I wasted enough time stalling the avengers and had to bring you here, it is my job after all.” He answered, nonchalantly, which only angered you more.

“yeah and since when did you care about rules or orders, huh? I can’t be here, do you not get that?”

“actually this exactly where you need to be. Believe it or not, the team means you no harm, nor does shield. They wish to help you in fact.” This answer just made you scoff.

“help? Tell that to the enhanced that end up on the raft”

“from what I have witnessed today my dear, you are not simply an enhanced” he looked you dead in the eye and you stop attempting to get out of his grasp. You looked up at him, how could they know the difference between your abilities and that of the enhanced? They had seen you throw one chair. Of course you knew the difference but you sure as hell were not going to let them know.

“wait, what? What do you mean? Of course I am. What else would I be?” you laughed at the absurdity of this whole situation. In response Loki looked down at the floor then back at you.

“not here” is all he said. “I understand I haven’t done much to earn your trust, but I can tell you that the avengers simply want to help you control your powers”

“I can control them fine myself” you retorted defensively, in actual fact you knew you couldn’t. you had been lying to yourself for so long; it had been fine when you were little but as you grew, so did your powers but your knowledge on how to use them stayed the same.

“Stark has technology that reads energy surges in the city, we know about the lack of control.” Loki said dryly “

“oh,” this moment would have been comical if not for the threat to your freedom “I'm learning to control it. i just need t-“

Loki interrupted you by taking your hands in his cool ones, looking you in the eye.

“y/n what you need is a teacher. Your magic is powerful, strangely so for that of a midgardian. the avengers, as much as I loath to say this, can help…” Loki paused, debating whether to say anymore. “... I- I can help”

You looked into his emerald eyes, hoping to find some form of dishonesty so you could just go back to your old life. There was none. If it weren’t for Loki still having your hands in his they would have most definitely been shaking.

You took in a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“okay” your voice came out barely as a whisper. “let’s go.” And with that, you walked into the elevator.

TAGLIST

@lozzybowe​

@shuri-owns-my-heart​

@nowheredreamer​

@meowpeeps​

@matchesarelit​

@kwyloz​

[siren1song]

Crying Out for More

Summary: Remus hasn’t seen another sea eldritch in two hundred years. Mostly because he was ran out of the community because he thought eating mers for power wasn’t that bad of a thing to do. And then Virgil brings an eldritch into the cave he’s been hiding in.

Warnings: Cannibalism, ask if more are needed

Pairing: Intruality

Word Count: 1,545

General Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns, @emo-disaster, @greenninjagal-blog, @jungle321jungle, @sleepy-sides, @gattonero17, @another-sandersidesblog, @strawberryjellystuff, @remusownsmyuwus, @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit, @gr3ml1n-loser, @main-chive, @kiribakuandcats, @firey-alex, @orca-iguana, @spooky-scary-virgil, @yalltookmyurlideas, @sanderssidesweirdo, @stormypaint, @just-a-little-bit-gay-oops, @dying-is-a-hobby

Intruality Taglist: @jessibbb

Notes: This fic is specifically for Rem because I saw he was sad and I wasn’t going to stand fro that.

Commissions!! | Buy Me a Kofi!! | Join Casper’s Crew!! | Ao3 Link!!

Remus had history. That came with living, but when that history involved your society rejecting you because you discovered you get a power boost from eating mers it kind of left a bitter taste.

He’s over it of course, he had roughly two hundred years to get over it. And he had Virgil now! Sure, he wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of him, he’d never had siren before, but Virgil was helping him heal.

Not with his own abilities of course, Remus kind of doubted singing to eldritch skin would make it mend itself, but he brought mers who knew how to heal. At least the ones that could handle the pressure of being so close to the sea floor anyway. Which was hard to find so Remus usually went a year or two (which if what Virgil told him was right like going a week or two to humans who had to deal with mortality) between visits.

To be perfectly honest, he’d probably out of this stupid hole by now if he stopped eating the mers after they got the pain down from unbearable to a dull throb, but he was hungry and he couldn’t really hunt fro himself right now.

”I fucking swear Remus if you get over excited over this one and get too close before he can help I’ll charm you into cleaning the algae from your teeth,” Virgil said, his voice coming from somewhere above him, the natural charm the night brought Virgil ringing through the water enough to actually wake Remus up from his doze.

”Ohhh you brought a healer? Nice! My side aches. Did I tell you who managed to get my side? I think it was-”

”Oh! I haven’t heard that language in so long!”

Remus froze, and for once he decided to bear the pain to lift up half his body from the hole he had hidden himself in so he could get a better look at the cave entrance where Virgil was hovering.

That was an eldritch.

Virgil darted in front of the eldritch protectively and glared down his nose at Remus, lips pulled back farther over fangs he couldn’t usually cover anyway.

”I said you can’t over excited before he could look,” he hissed.

Remus paid him no mind, using one of his tendrils to push Virgil out of the way and three more to drag his aching body forward to look at the eldritch who hadn’t stopped grinning.

Why was he grinning? Remus was easily twenty times the size of a regular male eldritch, the mers he ate having boosted his size over the last hundred or so years.

”Hello!”

His voice was prettier than any siren song Remus had ever heard. He wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible.

Remus glanced towards Virgil, taking a brief note of his irritation, before he looked back towards the eldritch and reached out with his hand.

And then he hissed at the effort of keeping his body where it was and sunk back into the darkness. He kept his eyes locked on the pale blue of his body, forcing his breathing to stay even through the ache of his ribs and the stabbing pain where he’d been harpooned by one of Pryce’s poison spines.

The damned poison on those things were so potent, it’s probably why he was taking so long to heal. Though… with another eldritch to heal him he might be able to get out sooner.

It’s been a long two hundred years. Remus would love to have a bit of freedom back.

The tiny eldritch, and really he was small even for a male, looking more like an octo-mer than an eldritch, allowed himself to float down into the hole.

His glow reminded Remus of the shallow waters closer to where the humans lived. And as he sank closer, Remus remained entirely still (or… as still as he could be, when some of his tendrils tended to move on their own).

”I’m Ayoda, but I’ve taken to being called Patton so other mers can actually pronounce it, Virgil talked a lot about you on our way here!”

”Don’t tell him that!” Virgil hissed from his perch, peeking over the edge of the rock to glower at Remus.

Remus didn’t look away from Patton, tilting his head in curiosity as his fingers ghosted over the wound to keep one of his more active limbs from sliming it with stink. He didn’t notice the strange look Virgil gave him before he slithered out of the ext hole he usually used.

Patton meanwhile batted away both Remus’ tendrils and his hands so he could get a good at look at the wound in his side, not once showing fear even when Remus growled low in his throat on instinct when he poked at the infected flesh.

”You’re the eldritch they drove out of the community twenty years ago, aren’t you?” Patton asked, looking up at Remus with a coy smile that had him tensing and curious at the same time.

”It was two hundred,” he corrected, hissing harshly when Patton’s fingers slipped a claw poked into the sensitive flesh underneath the rotted skin that had yet to fall off.

”Was it? I have a hard time remembering how human years work, how’d you get the timeline down?” he asked, clearly not at all sorry for causing the pain he had.

Remus felt a fluttering in his chest, he ignored it in favor of reaching out to grab Patton’s face with one hand, squishing his cheeks between his fingers and pulling him close to get a better look.

He giggled.

“If you want me to work on helping you heal,” he started in a more common mer language that Remus had learned ages ago to lure meals into his cave before Virgil came along, “you have to let me go.”

But Remus didn’t want to let him go. He was chubby and soft and cute, he liked feeling his skin under his fingers.

”Remus?” Patton asked, making Remus blink and pull away his hand.

He stared down at it in confusion, his brows furrowed and a frown tugging at his lips.

”You know who I am, you know I have no issues eating our own kind to get stronger, why aren’t you scared?” he finally asked, gently poking Patton’s soft belly with a clawed finger.

Patton winced, but his grin didn’t fall as he gently pushed Remus’ finger away and held his hand over the small cut his claw had made.

”I’m not afraid because I was also run out of the community. It may not be smart but I feel solidarity and even if you do decide you want to eat me I’m perfectly capable of fighting you off long enough to get away.”

There was a snort from Virgil in a different area of the cave, and for once Remus didn’t try to figure out where it was so he could pull the siren down for a snack.

He was a little more invested in the tiny eldritch and the history he clearly had.

Patton looked in the vague direction Virgil’s laugh had come from, then shrugged and moved back to paying attention to the wound in Remus’ side.

”Why were you thrown out? And why aren’t you hurt?” Remus asked, shifting his arm out of the way to let Patton look, staring at him and hissing when he used his claws to start tearing off rotted and infected flesh.

He sighed, pausing in his work to look up at Remus before he lifted the flesh he’d just torn off and he took a bite.

That fluttering in his chest was back, and this time it was a thundering and it didn’t fade. The glow from his blush lit up Patton’s visage, and Remus could swear he was blushing as well.

”I started eating our dead. The benefits work differently with caregivers, but I found my healing magic started getting stronger. And my body started changing to be a bit more masculine. I thought there wasn’t an issue with it, the elders thought differently.”

Patton seemed like he was going to keep talking, but he interrupted himself with a yelp and his glowing blush grew so much stronger.

It took Remus a second to realize it was because one of his wandering tendrils had started snaking itself up Patton’s body in an intimate way it shouldn’t with an eldritch he’d just met.

Fuck if he didn’t want to let it keep going though, Patton was interesting and pretty and Remus was finding himself more and more enthralled the more time went on.

”Well!” Patton giggled, grinning at Remus as he untangled the tendril and clutched it to his chest while it squirmed.

”Did your body just try and mate with him?” Virgil asked, making Remus look up to see him holding a very large chunk of fat over to his ledge and giving him a mocking look.

”If you don’t want to be between my teeth instead of the fat you’d best shut your bauble fish jaws,” Remus snapped, his embarrassment increasing when Virgil only laughed.

Patton giggled at that, and oh.

Oh.

…Remus didn’t think he was going to eat this one.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: Romantic Romile (Roman x Emile), Romantic Prandy (Andy x Pryce), Romantic Intrulogical (Remus x Logan), Romantic Sleepceit (Remy x Deceit), Romantic Anxtober (October x Virgil)

Word Count: 1,092 Words

Summary: Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, general chaos, and Remy and Deceit are cute.

Warnings: Sex Mentions, Cursing, Cancer Mention, Sick Character, Immunocompromised Character, Nightmares Mention, Murder Mention, Death Mention, Vomit Mention, Cult Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Note: Bolded and blockquoted are actions in their chatroom, not a message.

Usernames, a quick translation guide: Andy: Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero), Castor: schrodingersdumbass, Dayd: carniverousroomba, Dice: Dr. Bitch, Emile: Thera-pissed, Halley: aspermylastemail, Janus: SnekBoi, Logan: Momgan, October: eatpavementido, Orion: birdgeoisie, Patton: Papa Bear, Pollux: satantakemehome, Pryce: SwEeTvErUcA, Remus: Octopussy, Remy: Coffee Bandit, Roman: waaahluigi, Sirius: literalsunshine, Teal: uwu, Thomas: shrexy, Virgil: spipples, Vita: þiccness

A Very Sanders Group Chat: Chapter 9

3:14AM

satantakemehome: Hey, does anyone have any clue why there's nightmares galore? I was trying to sleep.

spipples: Kid, it's like 4am, go to sleep.

satantakemehome: Mother. Mother, I am Insomnia, mother. It doesn't work that way, mother.

spipples: Okay, okay, don't go all eldritch being on me, chill.

satantakemehome: Fix the Mind, mother. I crave the sleep, mother.

spipples: If you plan to be an eldritch being, go bother your uncle or visit auntie Dee in the hospital, I'm sure he'd love company in his misery up there.

SnekBoi: No. Tired.

satantakemehome: Uncle it is.

Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero): Hello Jeffrey, I am afraid.

spipples: Don't care. Got shit to deal with.

5:38AM

birdgeoisie: Hey mom, did you ever figure out what the overly murdery nightmares were about?

spipples: Yeah, it was Uncle Remus.

þiccness: FINALLY, I can say uncle bastard's name in the chatroom!

Octopussy: I fucking hate all of you.

Momgan: You popped up like a fucking goblin and whacked poor Roman in the head at four in the goddamned morning, how the fuck do you think we're going to react!?

schrodingersdumbass: Oh shit, Auntie Lo is going off on Uncle Remus.

uwu: I would give all my uwus to see this but I have to start getting ready for work sooooo

uwu is now offline

Coffee Bandit: Shiiiit, someone give him coffee stat!

literalsunshine: What do you think I'm trying do?

Coffee Bandit: Ah yes, the good child. All the rest are little punks and then we have this smol gem.

þiccness: I remember why I used to call you Uncle Asshat now.

Coffee Bandit: Thanks, kid.

þiccness: Not a compliment but alright.

Coffee Bandit: Everything is a compliment to me, kid.

þiccness: Alright edgelord.

11:17AM

spipples: It's a beautiful day out.

Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero): Almost as beautiful as your face.

spipples: You only say that because we have the same face.

Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero): Exactly, you're catching on.

spipples: I hate you.

Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero): Don't lie, little bro, it doesn't look good on you.

SnekBoi: Yeah, that's my job.

spipples: Fuck off, you've done enough damage to Thomas.' mind releasing Remus on us.

SnekBoi: I had nothing to do with that. I was at home resting off chemo still. I have a solid alibi. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to finish puking and see how bad my hair is because I know I saw some on my pillow.

Octopussy: goddammit not again!

SnekBoi: Well, sorry, I can't really control it, Ree. The chemo does what it wants.

shrexy: Are you okay?

SnekBoi: Probably. I mean, I'm just worried.

Coffee Bandit: Snakebabe, do you want me over?

SnekBoi: I'd love to see you, but I can't.

Coffee Bandit: What about outside in the garden six feet apart with masks on while we do light work taking care of your plants?

SnekBoi: Is this a date? It sounds like a date.

Coffee Bandit: Can be if you want it to be.

SnekBoi: So maybe 6:30 when it cools down so I'm not overheating myself?

Coffee Bandit: Sounds great, sugarbear.

SnekBoi: Yeah sounds great, Rem.

Coffee Bandit: See you there, lovely snek.

SnekBoi is now offline

waaahluigi: Remy's really out here saying 'I love you' while Dee's puking. Taking in sickness and in health a bit too seriously, huh, Rem?

Coffee Bandit: Oh absolutely, I mean, he's cute.

Octopussy: I hear screeching from Dee's room.

Octopussy: ah, nevermind, I read the backlog.

uwu: Remy's here to date cute snake men and nothing else will do.

12:17 PM

þiccness: Hey mom, can me and Halley spend the night out with Bella and Eve?

waaahluigi: Sure. Just make sure you four are careful and be home before 4am and make sure to call me if you need any help.

þiccness: Thanks, mom!

Thera-pissed: Oh, Ro, are you still coming over at 7 for dinner?

waaahluigi: Yeah, I'm just working off the headache still.

Octopussy: I regret nothing.

Thera-pissed: Alright, love, take your time. Remember, we can always just stay home and watch a movie while the kids are out.

waaahluigi: That actually sounds better than going out and hiking.

Thera-pissed: Then we'll stay in inside and watch a movie or two and have dinner there.

3:14 PM

SnekBoi: Hey, @Octopussy, can you help me up, I need to start getting ready for me and Remy's date?

Octopussy is now online

Octopussy is now offline

satantakemehome: Uncle Remus really said 'gotta go fast'

eatpavementido: remusthehedgehog.jpg

aspermylastemail: Remus is the only one of us ready to storm Area 51.

birdgeoisie: Remus about to clap some alien cheeks.

waaahluigi: You four remind me of a cult. The Cult of Remus.

aspermylastemail: We're just missing that hint of chaotic dumbass that is Castor.

eatpavementido: Don't tempt me, Roman.

waaahluigi: Or what?

eatpavementido: O̴̬̓r̴̨̠̹̾͋ ̴̦̃̆w̴̟̮̽͜ḛ̶͝ ̵̙̲͒́s̶͚͊a̵̦͚̓ͅc̴͙̤̆r̶̫̞i̴̱͉f̸̩͕̓͘i̸̛͇̟͌ͅc̷̨̢͗̈̿e̸̠̜̫̊ ̵̳̋̒y̷̞͓̩͒̓o̶͍̪̦̍ǘ̴̖̮̱̎͊ ̵̨̰͙̓̒͌ţ̸͉̜̂͂o̸̟̽̈n̸̪̤͂͌i̵͓͋̎͑g̶͎͒ḣ̵̤̤͂t̴̟̬͑̏.̸̪͆́

waaahluigi: Good Hera, fine! Just don't kill me! I have two kids to deal with and Remus and Pryce aren't trusted to raise them to not be heathens!

SwEeTvErUcA: Hey! But fair.

Octopussy: fair enough.

6:45 PM

Octopussy: in case anyone wanted a good wholesome update.

Octopussy: deceitandremyinthegarden.jpg

Octopussy: deceitandremysmilingateachother.jpg

Octopussy: deceitandremylaughing.jpg

shrexy: That is incredibly pure and wholesome, thank you for this PSA.

Octopussy: I know. It's good to see Dee be so happy around someone.

Coffee Bandit: I saw that, Remus.

Octopussy: parkourmeme.jpg

Octopussy is now offline

Coffee Bandit: Little shit.

Papa Bear: Go back to your date, kiddos! You're so cute together!

Coffee Bandit: Ah yes, everyone's supportive dad. You got it, Patt.

Coffee Bandit is now offline

spipples: Ah yes, the wholesome dad energy. It's hard to resist.

birdgeoisie: Ah yes, momther, I am hang out with Wyatt and Solace tonight. I'll be home like 9ish?

spipples: Have fun, Orion. Don't get them in trouble is all I ask, little crow.

birdgeoisie: I won't steal anymore street signs, Mom.

spipples: Or anything else that I would have to bail you out for.

birdgeoisie: Why  not just take the fun out of life?

spipples: Ah yes, such a horrible mother not wanting to bail out my son. Have fun, little crow. If you three need anything text me or call me.

birdgeoisie: I will, Mom!

birdgeoisie is now offline

spipples: Two of five kids are out having fun, one is working and two are out doing their own shopping.

eatpavementido: Does this mean you want me over?

spipples: Yesssss. Fucking come cuddle me.

eatpavementido: gottagofast.jpg

spipples: Love my boyfriend.

eatpavementido: Love you too, chaotic little shit.

Taglist: @glaxyjellyfish @chronophobica @fear-ze-queer @imma-potatoo

[ferretbitexo-fic-den]

Maybe It Already Has (Roceit)

Note: Sooooo this post by @attackthepinata had me falling down a rabbithole so here we have a Catradora-isnpired Roceit fic.

Warning: morally ambiguous dark sides cause chaos.

Pairings: Roceit, background Analogical, background Remile

Edit: I've seen so many goddamn typos in this and I really wanna cry...

...

“Sorry, what?” Logan stared at Roman and Patton who stood in the middle of the room, processing what the two had just announced.

“A summer ball!” Roman announced again, dramatically raising his hand to the heavens.

Virgil side-eyed the Royal Side and turned to his father-figure. “Yeah, we got that, but why?”

Roman ignored Virgil’s regular subtle ridiculing of his ideas. “Because!” He interjected. “It will be wonderful!”

“Plus, we may all need a little pick-me-up at the moment. A little ball won’t hurt!” Patton exclaimed. His bounciness became more cheery and contagious and harder to object to.

Save for Logan of course. “Wouldn’t that be unprecedented? Such a sudden with nothing to get out of it?”

“Come on, guys! It’ll be great! I promise! You don’t even have to do anything. I’ll take care of everything! Promise!” Roman begged.

“Yeah! Just be there and try to have fun.” Patton puppy-eyed Logan.

“Oh geez, there’s no disagreeing with you two, huh? Fine, we’ll be there. But no shots!” Logan gave up.

Virgil groaned from the edge of the stairs. “Fine! But let us decide what we’re going to wear. I’m not gonna be put in a white silk sock for as long as a I live.”

Roman pumped his fist! Yes! This’ll be so great!”

He took Patton’s hand as they immediately sunk down to Roman’s room. The two had much to do to make sure this was perfect. It would be.

...

Roman tightened the gem accent that hung on his white shirt under a deep red tailcoat jacket. He straightened his posture and admired the work he had done on himself.

Patton rose in, dressed in a faded blue and black tux-dress. “You look absolutely spiffy, Roman!” He exclaimed.

“Thank you, Patton! You look wonderful, too!” Roman praised him, making Patton giggle.

“Shall we?” Patton said extending his hand.

“We shall.” Roman took his friend’s hand.

They appeared in the Beauty and the Beast-inspired ballroom Roman and Patton had set up.

Soon, music started flowing in from seemingly nowhere and the smell of fresh Spring flowers lingered, out-of-season and wondrous.

Virgil popped in dressed in a dark blue-purple tuxedo with a navy blue corsage on his wrist, hand-in-hand with Logan who was dressed in a knee length galaxy dress with a lilac boutonniere pin on his short-sleeved blazer.

“Okay wow! You two look amazing!” Patton exclaimed, hugging the two.

“I owe my outfit to Virgil.” Logan looked at the tiles on the floor, hiding the extra pink on his face.

“Doesn’t he look gorgeous?” Virgil teased, causing the usually-stoic side to flush his face even more so.

“Hey fellas!” Remy entered in an ash-gray tux. “Ya’ll look gorgeous!”

Emile approached the bunch in his light pink knee-length dress. “So do you, love.” He kissed Remy in the cheek.

Soon, the facets all came and the music grew louder and louder. Each character from Thomas’ videos showed up in either tuxes or dresses.

Roman was talking to Pryce and Dice, exchanging pleasantries and rants when all of the sudden, two sides came in.

Roman felt his blood boil, rushing to the top of his skull immediately. “Uh yeah, can you two please excuse me?”

Roman ran to the new arrivals.

“Hello, Roman.” Janus smiled. “Lovely ball, tonight. You certainly outdid yourself.”

While Roman immediately interrogated the snake side, Remus slipped away in his alter-strapped moss green dress.

“What are you doing here?!” Roman hissed.

“Oh, I see… well, this is certainly awkward…” Janus prompted.

Virgil interrupted out of the blue. “Actually, Ro, Pat agreed on me inviting them.” He explained. “I thought it would be okay…”

Virgil’s voice seemed to fade in the distance as Roman observed Janus’ getup. He wore a gold dress with wilted rose accents that adorned the hem of the dress. His silver heels, as high as they were, weren’t exactly helping as Roman still towered him by a few centimeters. His eyes—those damn eyes— were lightly painted with every colour in the spectrum. Perhaps a talent Janus possesses in spite of his eye condition?

“..Roman?” Virgil snapped his fingers in front of the Prince. “You still there?”

Janus clicked his tongue thrice. “Seems Prince Charming has trust issues…”

Roman bit his cheeks to (ineffectively) stop the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Can you blame me?”

“Anyway, you two have fun. Don’t kill each other for now, Try to keep it neutral, ‘kay?” Virgil abruptly said then left, unoblivious to the tension arising between the two.

“Lovely party, Roman.” Janus smirked, and as he tried to leave, Roman grabbed his arm and pulled him close.

“I know you're plotting something. From now until the second the ball ends, I'll be watching. Wherever the two of you go, I go.” Roman taunted.

Janus broke free of the grasp and grinned slightly “Suit yourself. Have fun with following me!”

Roman felt his blood boil over his head.

...

Roman didn’t let Janus out of his sight for one moment. In doing so, he noticed much things.

For one, Janus was clearly ambidextrous; the way he switched the hand that held his glass often. Janus was also a very touchy-feely person, touching each person he conversed with. He also smelled each thing he ate before putting it in his mouth.

In all the time Roman watched the liar, he felt as though he was being silently ridiculed by how uptight and nervous he was.

For a moment, he watched Janus disappear into the crowd in the middle of the ballroom. He followed him in as the music grew louder.

He finally came face to face with the snake, who extended his hand and cocked an eyebrow.

“Come on, I won’t bite.” He said. Roman took his hand.

“I don’t know about you, but I am having a blast.” Janus said sincerely.

“Whatever it is your planning, it won’t work.” Roman hissed. He was partly annoyed that though Janus was smaller, the snake side seemed to be the one leading.

Janus giggled, and Roman felt his knees weaken. “You sure about that?”

Roman twirled Janus gently, almost afraid of dropping him, then tipped him, in a way that their faces were inches away from each other.

Janus smiled at the prince. “Maybe my plan won’t work. Then again, what if it already has?”

He took the prince’s arm and leaned against his shoulder. “Say, where’s Virgil?”

TAGLIST❤

@shadowjag

@wigsnatchedhoteltrivago

@notall2gether

@i-love-my-dark-strange-sons

@phantom-moonfire

@lostonehero

@awkward-child-of-satan

@gigitheimposter

@ashtonbby2

@lokiamorstuffs

Tell me if you wanna be added or removed!❤

[sparrowwritings]

Day Eight: Year

Day Seven -- Masterpost -- Day Nine

Takes place a while after Movie

Amou’s shit-eating grin was really starting to get on Sefané’s nerves.

“Could you stop that?” Her words came out as a growl, for all that she intended on sounding calm and collected.

“Stop what?” He asked with that fake innocent tone. It made his accent sound a dumb kind of babyish. “I’m just sitting here watching my dear partner have a mental breakdown over giving gifts to her girlfriend, that’s all.” 

The gifts in question were arranged on Barb’s desk. There was a vase full of flowers (a mix of roses, mums and lilies), seated far enough away from the secretary’s computer and keyboard that even accidentally knocking it over wouldn’t cause any problems. Propped up on the monitor was a rectangular box of chocolates wrapped in shiny paper. In front of that was a jewelry box that held a necklace with a heart shaped charm. And on top of that was a folded over card with Barb’s full name written in cursive. Even from her desk, Sefané could see her tiny, cramped handwriting that had filled the inside of the previously blank stationary. 

She may have gone a little overboard. Not that she’d ever admit that to Amou. “Oh like you wouldn’t go even more all out on your girlfriend for your first anniversary.” Sef’s grin back at him was more predatory than shit-eating. “Oh wait, you don’t have one.”

“Oooh, shots fired!” Called Kayden from the peanut gallery, aka her brother’s desk. 

Amou threw an eraser at her. The teen dodged it with a chuckle. “What are you even doing here so early?!” He called out to her. “I get why Hopeless Romantic here got to the station at the asscrack of dawn, but you don’t even have anything important to do!”

Kay rolled her eyes. “There was a robbery that got taken care of while Sean was in our neighborhood and I was already awake when he called and asked if I wanted a ride to work. So! I get to watch the fireworks before I even get to clock in!”

“I’m pretty sure child labor laws would have something to say about that.” Sef grumbled. 

“Child labor laws don’t apply to people over eighteen.” The teen stuck her tongue out. 

“I dunno, you’re still acting like a child.”

“You’re all acting like children.” The harsh, no-nonsense voice of Frederick Polinski called from his office door. He leaned against the doorframe, cell phone held to his ear in one hand. The speaker end was directed away from his mouth. “Barb’s gonna get here when she gets here. While you’re all gabbing, you could be doing some work.”

Raising a hand, Kay responded. “I’m not clocked in yet.”

“Yeah but the two so-called “adults” are.”

“You’re no fun.” Amou pouted at Fred. 

“It’s not my job to be fun.”

“It could be, though!”

“You’re lucky I’m on hold or you’d be--” Fred held up a finger from his unoccupied hand. “Yes, this is him. Yeah, I was calling because--” He walked right back into the office and shut the door behind him.

There was a beat between the three of them. Sefané took the opportunity to relax by taking in the rumble of Fred’s voice through the door. It was comforting, even when she couldn’t pick out what he was actually saying.

“Wow, I must have missed something.” A voice came from behind her that instantly put her on edge. She slowly turned in her seat until she faced Barbara Pryce, her girlfriend. She had on that smile that meant she was confused but trying not to make it obvious. “You’re all quiet. And here early. What’s up?”

Sef realized her throat was too dry to speak at that very moment. Amou leaned against his desk with his shit-eating grin plastered on his face again. “Oh, nothing. Just felt like being early, that’s all.”

Barb rolled her eyes and went to her desk. “The day you’re here early on your own volition is the day the world ends.” She was just about to plop her purse on the surface when she spotted the gifts. Her brow furrowed. “What the…?”

“Go on, open them up! Someone’s been dying about it all morning.” 

With a glare in her partner’s direction, Sefané cleared her throat. “H-happy anniversary, babe.” The grin she had was forced and awkward.

There was a moment of silence. “...Holy shit you’re right.” Anyone who didn’t know her any better couldn’t see it, but Barb was definitely blushing. “I almost forgot, I’m so sorry--”

“No, that’s okay! I thought you’d be too busy to remember so I just got you gifts! I hope you like them.”

“You didn’t have to--”

“Yes I did!”

“No you didn’t! I don’t even have anything yet!”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“Well now I do!!”

While they were distracted by mutual babbling, Kay moved next to Amou to talk to him quietly. “So, is this normal for couples who have been together for only a year, or is this just a them thing?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Not everyone overcompensates in one direction and undercompensates in the other one. They’re unique that way.”

“Okay cool.”

“That being said, I wouldn’t go looking in office closets today, just in case.”

“Why--Oh. Oh, ew! EW! AMOU!”

“Definitely a child.” He mused with a grin. 

“No, you are!”