#also can I just say: Tara also extends the invitation.

[jacqcrisis]

Can I talk about Gale in my bg3 playthrough? I'm gunna talk about Gale in my playthrough.

My read on Gale during his time following Ronan around is that he's pining to all hell. Mega pining. Pining so hard it SUCKS.

At the start, its all fun and trying not to die with the cleric who is quiet and stoic and gruff. They gather their little band of merry men and women, and its clear there's a more calculating, pragmatic side to Ronan in the way he talks his way out of issues. There's a softer side to him as well in how he is generally willing to help those in need and in how he acts when the day is done, his care, eagerness to listen, curiosity, and healing touch hard to miss even under the usual cold and arrogant air he has about him.

They become fast friends, Ronan defers to him the most when coming up with a plan or when needing a different point of view, and Gale enjoys the whole of him. There's a lot of him to enjoy. Aesthetically. He's rather fetching for a dragonborn in his face and his form and the rumble of a voice cannot be understated.

But Gale wouldn't. No, he's still got Mystra to win back. He's not looking for anything else with a goddess' favor is on the line. He's not ready to give that up-

And then the magic lessons happen. And he's flattered, really, truly, that Ronan would conjure up such...creative images of them together. And then show them to Gale. How very bold of him.

As flattered as he is and how those fantasies stick with him, Gale still wouldn't. He can appreciate from a distance. Enjoy his new friendship but he wouldn't...

Would he? Ronan's so... nice under the impatient, grumpy facade and he's saved Gale from some rather sticky situations, held his hand as he healed grievous wounds, hugged him in their victories. He's a dedicated ally and friend and one could imagine it would not change as a lover. Maybe when Gale is ready, maybe if he can't get Mystra back, maybe he could, perhaps-

Oh. Astarion got there first. It's a crushing blow to his confidence, further compounded when at the party, Ronan's spending it with the vampire as well. Not like it could've happened between them anyways, that Ronan would have wanted anything between them considering the orb and...everything.

He has to make peace with that. Accept that. It's fine, of course. Better a friend had than nothing at all and what a friend he's found in Ronan with is easy affection and his enthusiastic praise and his trust and his loyalty and how when Gale learns of Mystra's plan to have him sacrifice himself, Ronan is immediately and unwaveringly stubbornly certain there's another way, has to be another way, 'I'll not see you go this way'-

And he still thinks about the magic lessons. And enjoys the way Ronan listens to him. Laughs with him. Embraces him. Holds him, lingers around him at times. And the way he still looks at him at others.

Gale also sees how he looks at Astarion. How they keep getting closer, and closer until finally something changes and they're truly together. And he's touching Astarion more and their spending nights sleeping together and Ronan is so open with his adoration and Gale

He could've had that. Should have had all of that. Why didn't he take it when he could've, when he still had a chance? Why did he blow it off, wait too long only for it to pass him by?

For what? To win back favor with a goddess that wants him dead? Why was he chasing dreams of so much more than him when something real that was right there? When he could have had the adoration and the loyalty and the passion and the love of someone right in front of him?

It haunts him. Gale's happy for his friends and dedicated to their cause, but by the gods, does he regret. Up until the final fight and the celebration after and the parting of ways and even six months later when he sees Ronan again and hugs him like he might die if he doesn't.

Ronan holds him, squeezes him tight, unfathomably warm and strong around him as he whispers in Gale's ear that he missed him. And every dulled ache, every ember burning low flares back up as they part and Ronan gives him that soft, glowing smile and maybe he has ulterior motives when he invites his old friend back to his tower for a night of dinner and talking.

[wandagcre]

Need some soft golden retriever Sam hcs please 😭

SHE IS THE CUTEST GIRLFRIEND EVER. LISTEN‼️

she waits for you (whether it's after your classes at uni or after working) if her shift happens to end early, sam is literally the embodiment of 🧍🏻‍♀️ emoji

sam LOVES tummy rubs ;( if you don't do it while you're watching a movie, she will grasp your hand and place it on her stomach so you'll be reminded!

you can envision her pouting with knitted eyebrows in confusion if you drop some slangs and abbreviations that she can't keep up with (don't laugh at her pls 🥺🤏🏼)

sam: kys 🥰

you: ??? baby what do you mean by that ☹️

sam: What, y? I said, keep yourself safe? ☺️

you: oh my god.

she didn't care much for board games, since the crowd she's been into has either avoided her or she's a part of sketchy ones ;(

however she eagerly wanted to learn when she met you! sam says it's also pratice for her. she liked scrabble a lot, idk i envision her as someone who reads when she has the time.

if you're a foreigner, i can see sam studying more than basic phrases of your native language. she'll surprise you, handwritten or sam will randomly blurt them out. she rlly wants to know you better this way <3

sam lets you win in board games btw, you caught on after like 3 times of playing with her and you called her out of it

sam simply raised her hand in defeat, giggling about it. in reality, she just enjoys spending time with you hence why she doesn't mind letting you win. it's also for her to have a reason to invite you eventually on game nights with the 3/4 of the core four ;(

sam loves seeing you bond with her other loved ones: tara, mindy, chad <3

she's pretty great with words, but sam doesn't express much out of fear of fucking things up. however, when she does, it's the sweetest thing ever

doesn't care if her partner is shorter or taller, you will GET forehead kisses, regardless! she tugs you close and gives you one whenever she sees you or before you say goodbye

if someone is bothering you i can see her being very protective. if she's present, sam will have a hand around your waist tightly. wouldn't hesitate to verbally call them out - she's straightforward. if she's not: sam will joke about being a loomis - that they should watch out for her (she looks adorable because she's gentle with you. in reality, sam is for REAL. she's ready to pounce on them omfg)

wordlessly passes you the utensils first before getting hers whenever sam eats with you

i can see that in general, sam expresses her love and care through acts of service and physical touch. she tends to be nonverbal at times due to her trust issues. be patient with sammy! ;(

doesn't know how to say sorry when she accidentally messes things up. she either cooks for you or does something to help you as her way of extending an olive branch about that disagreement that happened

speaking of: the core four will tease her of being called "sammy" like it's the softest thing she has ever been called!! with saccharine voice, "oh look, it's sammy, precious (y/n) sugarplum is waiting for youuu" and sam rolls her eyes at their silliness 😭

sam doesn't expect anything in return, the simple gestures really, she does it voluntarily to express that she cares for you. but still it moves her when you reciprocate you swear that you'll see her teary eyed !!!

[djh4l0v3rv3r]

Sandy Headcanons #1

— He asked Tara to make him his hood with cat ears since he loves cats, he says they're his spirit animal.

— He’s almost always sleeping because of how draining his powers are on his body. Sandy used to eat a lot to make up for the energy when he was younger but when that started failing he started going to sleep earlier and earlier, it got to the point that he can barely stay awake most of the time, Tara and Gene are still looking for a solution to this.

— He likes to get inside other brawlers dreams and keep an eye out open for nightmares or evil spirits and take them out before they reach the other brawlers.

— The Nightmare Sandy skin is what would happen if he stayed awake for too long and let the nightmares and dark spirits he fights take control. It's not necessarily evil, but he can be quite a handful to deal with when he's in this state.

— Whenever he's angry or overwhelmed, his super will unconsciously activate and create a sandstorm, the longer the sandstorm lasts, the more hot it gets. After all, people often forget that sand is always just a step away from glass.

— He gets along really well with Edgar, Leon and Nita! He likes to have sleepovers with them at his house and keep them nightmares free, he always takes comfort in the fact they feel safe around him whenever he invites them over.

— He likes to have Edgar paint his nails for him, he always comes up with designs that fit his aesthetic.

— He really likes blue, specially baby blue, but given his extended family's tradition of wearing a similar color palette to those you're aligned with, he stays with Tara's pinks and purples.

— He wears more traditional clothing whenever he's attending important events, he also puts up a good, calm and perfect child act in front of his family so that they can't talk badly about his sister's way of raising him. He also wears makeup to hide his eye bags or scars to these events. Tara and Gene had told him multiple times that he doesn't have to do this, but he still does it anyway.

— He's very protective of his sister and likes to help around the shop whenever he's awake and/or doesn't feel like sleeping.

— He likes to drink decaf coffee because the caffeine gives him really bad headaches.

— He lets Gene and Tara help him dress up because he genuinely enjoys playing dress up with his family, this is the reason he wears gold in his outfit, if it was for him he would wear more comfortable clothes all the time but with Tara's colors.

— When he's awake, he's always stalking his extended family's social media and keeps constant contact with them so that whenever he is forced to attend a family event he will always start small talk and occasionally gossip with his family according to what they have posted or what they have shared with him. This is mostly to keep up appearances because he doesn't want Tara to get in trouble for not living up to their family's expectations.

— Family events always leave him and his family exhausted as hell and he needs to sleep from 19 hours to an entire day in order to recover from staying awake for so long. Sounds weird, I know, but it works for him.

[Sorry if it's short, I really wanted to post this one but I got busy last minute or just outright forgot 😔

Credits for the dividers: @saradika-graphics ]

[storiesofsvu]

Tara Lewis NSFW Alphabet

Tara Lewis x reader Warnings: obviously nsfw, smut, kinks explored, nothing too wild. NGL, parts of this turned out much softer than i expected?

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She’s incredibly tender, soft kisses peppering across your skin, hands massaging every inch of your body, just absolutely envelopes you in her body and definitely gets you a snack and water. There’s lots of little laughs, some jokes or teasing and if it’s not too late likely some cuddles while you watch some mindless television.

B = Body part (your favourite body part of theirs and theirs of yours)

You absolutely adore her hands (for obvious reasons) and it’s easy to get distracted thinking about all the ways she can touch you and make you come undone. She’s partial to the curve of your neck, your collarbone, places she can leave messy kisses or love bites.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically).

She’ll occasionally breed you, but it’s more when you’re absolutely begging for it, or she’s a bit jealous/you need to be reminded who you belong to. It’s not an every time kinda thing. That being said, she absolutely loves watching you come, whether she’s doing it or not.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Relating to what I just said, she adores watching you come. She’s partial to video calls when she’s out of town/your apart. She’ll guide you through what to do, what she would do to you, or have you show her what you want her to do to you, touching yourself until you’re begging to come wishing it was her touching you instead. I’d like to think this also extends to inviting a third home one night. She’s more than comfortable and confident to sit back with a drink and watch you get off by the hands of someone else.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Relatively experienced on all sides of things. She’s got history with men and women so she’s experimented quite a bit with roles and kinks in the bedroom. She definitely knows what she’s doing and is quick to be able to tell which things make you absolutely see stars.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

She likes to have you in cowgirl when she really wants to see you, the more intimate nights, or when she’s had a long week and wants to fuck you but is a little tired kinda thing. She adores watching you bounce on her cock, she can easily play with your tits, trace patterns across your body with her hands and mouth. On nights when things are a little more spicy and you’re begging for it hard and fast she’s gonna flip you onto all fours and fuck you from behind in doggy. G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It obviously depends on the night and the mood overall, but she’s one of the one’s who’s goofier in general and this can and does translate into the bedroom. When I say she’s a tease, it’s both in the sexual teasing way and also in the joking, funny way that we see her interacting with others in canon. With Tara there’s lots of little laughs and sometimes even bigger laughs in bed together, especially once you’re comfortable with each other and know just how much of a safe space it is.

 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) 

This, again, depends on the level of relationship. If you’re fwb, one night stand or it’s your first night together and you’re just a casual hook up, it’s more of a quick fuck, let’s get each other off and call it a day kinda thing. I like to believe that if you’ve started out dating and are doing the classic “no sex til the 3rd date” (or whichever) that she’d have something sweet and nice planned out for you. It doesn’t have to be crazy, but some nice music, fresh sheets on the bed, some nice smelling sheet spray and a couple of candles.

If you’ve been together a while and you’re celebrating a big anniversary or a special birthday/promotion at work/whatever then I can definitely see her going more all out, flowers, rose petals on the bed, and she’s going to absolutely worship every inch of you until you’re utterly exhausted.

J = Jack off (masturbation head canon)

A few times a week, usually for stress relief. Has a collection of toys, sometimes will use one of them, sometimes it’s just a quick and easy with her hands.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Girl’s got a size kink. She’ll always make sure that you’re properly warmed up, but there is nothing she likes more than picking the biggest strap of the collection and watching the way she stretches you open with it. This of course is accompanied with so much praise of how proud of you she is and how good you’re doing for her.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Considering the job she prefers to stick to within your apartment, or a nice hotel room. She does like to splurge a bit on a fancier hotel, a full suite where she can fuck you on every surface (and if it’s high enough to fuck you either up against the glass windows or on the balcony).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A number of different things. Sometimes it’s the intimate domestic moments of being home together, moving with grace around each other in the kitchen that turns into little laughs and dancing together that brings out the soft spicy side in each other.

Other times it’s seeing you dressed up, or with a little bit more skin showing than normal that drives her absolutely wild and she can’t keep her hands off you (and sometimes those nights lead to sneaking away to a private bathroom so she can get her hands where she really wants them).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While she is kinky and does like to get a little rough with you, anything that’s *too* hard, like she’s never going to slap you across the face, her punishments are more on the tame side (edging, spanking). She’s not super into degrading you either, she’d much rather call you “her good little slut”

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Tara’s got a soft spot for you sucking her strap. It’s just the sight of you on your knees for her that makes her crazy, knowing that you can take it and are more than ready to get throat fucked by her, especially with the bigger straps. And you can absolutely bet if you do that for her, she’s going to eat you out until you’re begging for her to stop (though let’s be real, you’re more likely begging for her cock).

She’s good at what she does and will absolutely suffocate between your thighs if you would let her.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think it’s a medium balance of the both. On days where she’s frustrated she’s likely going to be fucking you hard and fast. Even on the days that start out more soft and sensual they tend to finish faster or rougher as you chase your peak, begging for more and who is she to say no to you?

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are good when you’re on the road. You need the stress relief/distraction from work, but don’t always have the time/toys that you normally would, so you’ve got to get each other off quick before a phone rings, and these are almost always in the shower either before bed or in the mornings.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She definitely loves to experiment and to a point will try a lot, at least once, especially if you’re interested in it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Girl’s got hella good stamina. Unless you’re strapped for time, there’s always going to be multiple rounds and she is going to get you off as many times as possible. She often likes to warm you up, then stretch you out with her cock and once you’ve come around it, she’ll pull out and go down on you until you’re coming again on her mouth and she repeats the pattern again and again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Obvi she does. She has a large collection with a large variety, some that she uses on herself, some that you’ll use on her, but most that she’ll use on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She is a big tease, in both senses that I’ve mentioned already. If you’re out at a party/bar, she’s definitely whispering dirty things in your ear, either how sexy you are, what she wants to do to you/is going to do to you, or bringing up the previous night, how she can still taste your pussy on her lips from eating you out before going to the party. Her hand will be on you in some sense the whole night until she can get you somewhere private.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Nothing crazy, but she is vocal. Both in praise when you’re being so good for her, “you can take it baby, I know you can” “look so good for me, love seeing that pretty pussy all stretched out” “you want more, hmm? Such a needy girl tonight.”  “that’s it. Right there. Don’t stop baby.” “make me feel so good”

W = Wild card (a random head canon for the character)

Enjoys sharing. She prefers to keep it within people she trusts and that you’re both very comfortable with, but she loves watching you get to come as many times as possible and that’s even better when she has to tap out there’s someone else there to take over kinda thing.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

She’s absolutely stunning.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

A couple times a week, depending on how insane work is.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think most of the time she falls asleep relatively quickly, she’s relaxed, has you in her arms and any stressors from the day are gone and it doesn’t take much for her to drift off. If it was a longer/rougher session though she’s always going to make sure that you’re okay and have everything you need before she lets herself get comfortable enough to sleep though.

________________

@mysticfalls01 @maybe-a-humanbean @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @daddy-heather-dunbar @augustvandyne ne @supercriminalbean @prentiss-theorem @svushots @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @akingcalledkris @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @kalixxh @s1ut4nat @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @ollysmulti @iluvsreid @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @louderfortheback

[bookipsies]

How many nights do you think end with Adolin/Shallan asking each other, as they always do, “should we ask him tomorrow? To be with us? Is it too soon? Also not the right timing we are busy” And they always decide “no we’ll wait 😔 to be responsible”

Meanwhile kaladin is slamming his head into rocks crying wishing he had someone to love him but unfortunately everyone hates him but he deserves it because he sucks so so much who could love him.

Meanwhile at least 70% of Urithuru every single night is filled with people having debates about “who loves kaladin stormblessed more and why it’s me: a ted talk” every night Dalinar shows up to one and is like “I’m disbanding these. It’s me. I love him the most that is my precious boy. I am the proud father of 3 wonderful boys stop talking about my son.”

Not limited to just a human fan club also… the undoubted book club/ religion that has popped up in the singer population about “how that kaladin guy actually is really cool” led by an actual high ranking member of the fused (Leshwi. His other wife).

[Side note: I do honestly believe there will be a chapter in WaT in which either Adolin or Dalinar is going to have to kill Leshwi and they will stand over her corpse and be like “you don’t even know him he is the love of my life my pride and joy keep your paws off of him” unless of course there is a chapter in which Leshwi shows up on Dalinar’s doorstep and is like “it’s about to time to make this family…one member bigger” and Dalinar is like “ahhhh get in here I’ll get someone to make us curry let’s talk about kaladin for 5 uninterrupted hours” ]

Actually probably Azure too is writing a journal as she goes to find Zahel/Vasher and like half the entries are about how sick kaladin is and she wished they would have hung out more.

Fuck it I think the goddamn horse likes him too. Even Gallant is like “holy shit I thought I was strictly Kolinar boys through and through but turns out rules are meant to be broken”

[Second side note: Sanderson you’re making me nervous about how much you’re including the horse in the wacky adventures. It was cute the first few times to be like “wow look at these giant and noble and very loyal horses what a cool concept for a shardbearer to ride” but now it’s getting to “Why do I personally feel extremely protective of Gallant and am invested in his specific well-being as much as I am any of the main characters?” Because if the answer is to kill him I can kindly direct you to fuck off actually. The horse Brandon? That’s sick🤢 .]

I know I know we gotta save the world and all that and maybe have to deal with some interplanetary consequences depending how exactly you save it….but is there not time for kaladin to sit in a beanbag while shallan and adolin spoon feed him soup and he falls asleep under a little blanket adolin made for him out of some of his old shirts. Can we just chill the cosmic war for like, a week, a month? Kaladin is just now discovery therapy and I think it’s really gonna reframe a lot of things for everyone if we all participated.

(Taravangian is not invited. Look I know a narcissist when I see one and therapy is so tricky and sometimes useless for them and Tara’s perhaps one of the top 10 narcissists in literature. Also he made Dalinar sad so what the fuck? Go eat wood chips you freak. Why are you even talking to Wit leave him alone get a job.)

(I know I know your instinct is to say also Moash isn’t invited no actually Moash is pretty open and shut therapy wise. He’s allowing himself to be manipulated into something very harmful to distract himself from the fact that he’s also in love with Kaladin. And Moash that’s so fine it’s not even that gay at this point because everybody in the entire idk…tristate planetary area loves Kaladin. It’s like A Thing. Lean into it please stop doing dumb shit for no reason. My sympathy can only extend so far before you, too, will join Taravangian in the time out circle I call the octagon where I pummel you and him to death via mixed martial arts in front of a crowd.)

Anyway thank you everyone again for attending this nights “why I love Kaladin stormblessed the most : a ted talk” next week Reggie it’s you remember so please have a presentation prepared and turn in your Kaladin art pieces by 7 pm Thursday (but like in Roshar terms)if you do want them to get judged before the breakfast social next Saturday (but like in Roshar terms).

The Kaladin/Shallan/Adolin situation is not a love triangle. It’s a couple who love each other and also their very tired best friend while the best friend is oblivious. Every single time I read about Adolin worrying about Shallan’s crush on Kaladin, I’m like, Adolin, you also have a crush on Kaladin. That throuple will thrive the moment Kaladin gets an actual vacation and has time to think about things not related to work.

[moonlightlullaby]

just like magic

summary: Reader has a card up their sleeve, leaving Spencer intrigued, flustered and impressed.

pairing: Spencer x gn! non-BAU! Rossi’s offspring!Reader

category: fluff 

A/N: this is one of the first gn!reader pieces that I’ve written, so please let me know if I’ve slipped up somewhere!

word count: 2.5k

No sooner had I opened the glass door leading to my dad’s “humble” backyard than Henry’s and Jack’s fresh and joyous laughter filled my ears and warmed my heart. The sight that accompanied it only adding to my gleeful state, making my heart soar and melt instantly.

Spencer Walter Reid, the bright young Doc who I’ve known - and had a patent crush on - for nearly six years now, is entertaining the kids with a magic trick. I can’t help the smile that splatters on my face as I watch the scene unfold.

“Here, angelo mio.” my dad caresses my back as his other hand offers me a glass of wine. I take it and we clink our glasses together before making our way to the cozy wooden picnic table where his other colleagues are chatting. On our way, I go off-track and get closer to the sweet magician and adorable kids. “Hello, boys!” I extend my free hand, high-fiving both of them as they harmonize a “Hi” back to me. At Spencer, I flash a smile and wink and, without waiting for his reaction, I turn around and soothe Jack’s hair as I begin distancing myself. 

“Oh what a sight for sore eyes! Y/N, you look fantastic! As always I mean…” in her very own manner that never gets old, Pen is the first to greet me, clapping in excitement and giving me a home-like hug. “Oh please! Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” she waves her hand and rolls her eyes in a way that tells me both to stop tooting her horn and to keep the compliments going, making me giggle. “And I’ve said this before, but I’ll do it again. You need to show me where you’ve bought these rings, P.”

“Oh! I have an idea,” JJ chimes in. “we should go shopping tomorrow!” by the time she finishes her sentence, I - along with Penelope, Prentiss and Tara - am nodding my head fervorously. “I’ll take you up on that one.” Em voices what all of us are thinking.

“I mean, unless a case pops up…” JJ drags it out, contorting her lips. “We won’t,” Hotch reassures everyone. “these past two weeks have been hectic and we all have overworked ourselves. You deserve the weekend off.” to which Derek, Tara and my dad, in sync, raise their glasses.

“So, ladies,” Derek hugs me, grinning. “where are we going tomorrow?” 

“We? Oh my chocolate thunder! Much as this pains me,” Pen places a hand over her chest to fuel the scene with more drama. “you’re not invited.”, which earns gasps and scoffs from him.

I lean my head on his shoulder, giving his hand two taps. “Yeah, Derek. Sorry,” I turn my face to him. “but, how are we supposed to have boy talk with you there?” the girls nod along in agreement and he smirks. 

“Boy talk, hun?” 

The thing is, Derek - much like every other person in the team... well, almost everyone - is well aware of my not-so-subtle crush on his oblivious friend and he never spares me some teasing. Thankfully, before he can take his teasing any further, I’m saved by the bell - and by the bell, I mean Henry and Jack. 

“Y/N/N, Y/N/N!” knowing how much I love magic, Henry starts pulling me towards Spencer, giving me only a second to hand my glass to Derek. “Look at this! Spencer, do it again, do it again!” 

“Yes, show Y/N the cool trick!” Jack says energetically after waving me over.

Spencer smiles at me, giving us a small nod, and turns his back to us to prepare himself for the show. I sit crisscross next to the giddy boys, feeling thrilled myself. “Alright,” Spencer turns around, observing his audience and clasping his hands together. “are you ready?” 

“Yes!” we eagerly respond in unison. 

“Y/N, I know you’re very fond of magic yourself.” I hum in agreement. “So, are you familiar with th- oh! Wait,” he furrows his brows and narrows his eyes, scanning my face for a millisecond. “what is this?” he steps closer to me, kneeling slightly and reaching for my face. The boys get more agitated and giggle. “This what?” I look back and forth between the magician and them, who immediately cover their mouths trying to conceil their giggles and to keep any secrets from escaping. “Excuse me.” Spencer mumbles before placing his hand on the side of my neck. 

This simple gesture - a shy touch, a brief moment of intimacy - is enough to make my heart skip a bit, and I’m sure Spencer notices the sudden change in my pulse because his gaze momentarily leaves the side of my face to my eyes before travelling back to its original spot.

“This.” suddenly, I feel a ghost-like touch on the back and side of my neck, and, ahead of me, all I see is Spencer pulling an endless thin colorful - scarf-looking - cloth. I can’t contain the laugh and loud snort that escape my lips, inciting the boys, Spencer and even the grown-ups over there to burst into laughter as well. 

By the time the entire cloth is out, my belly and cheeks ache and a tear is found in the corner of my eye. “Impressive, Doc! Very impressive as always.” he grins in return.

“Your turn, Y/N! Do a trick too, please” Jack suggests - well, orders basically since he knows I wouldn’t ever turn it down - and is backed up by an eager “yes!” from Henry. 

“Oh you also do tricks?” Spencer sounds less surprised that I do than that this fact was unknown to him. 

During some of my nights as Henry and Michael’s and/or Jack’s last-minute babysitter, I had to, in spite of how sweet and obedient they are, resort to desperate measures, such as magic tricks - some of which I’ve learned with the sole purpose of entertaining them. To Spencer, however, I’ve never had such opportunity. Not until now.

“Well, not as entertaining as yours, I’m sure, but yes.” I stand up, wiping bits of grass from my bottom.

“Umm, ok, I have a new one to show you, guys. I just… You wouldn’t have a deck of cards and a pen to lend me for a minute, would you?” 

“The pen, I don’t. The deck of cards, though,” he searches his pockets, pulling a standard - and well cared for - deck. “here.” he hands it to me.

“Thank you very much.” I cursty theatrically.

Jack runs back from God-knows-where with a black pen in hands. “Here, the pen. My dad said you could borrow it.” 

“Oh great! Thank you, Jack, and thank you, Aaron!” I raise my voice slightly at the end, nodding my head at Aaron and giving him a tight-lipped smile, which he mirrors.

“Okie, okie! Let’s start, shall we?” the boys exchange expectant glances and Spencer tilts his head, studying me and probably trying to predict my next moves. Hopefully, this will work. It’d be a shame failing in front not only of the boys - who, I’m sure, would never let me hear the end of it -, but also of Pretty Boy himself.

I shuffle the cards a little bit and open it, making a sort of fan with it and letting the faces and numbers face the ground. “Alright, boys, pick one card but don’t show it to me.” they both put their index fingers on the same card. “You can take it and let Spencer see.” the man standing to my left follows along and takes a peep at it. “Now, I want both of to draw whatever you feel like on it, ok? On the front.” 

As they take turns putting their art on the card, I turn to Spencer, who’s already got his curious eyes on me. “Be patient” mine tell him and he takes a sip of his wine.

“Done!” Henry looks up at me.

“Great, you can put it back on the stack then,” he does so. “Ok, now, to prove you I’m not cheating, Spencer’s going to shuffle the cards.” I hand them to him. “However you want and as many times as you wish.”

Once he’s done, I take them back. “So, now, I guarantee you the first card I show you is the exact one you’ve picked. Ready?” They nod along and I double-tap on the top of the stack. “Alright. This,” I lift the first card. “is your card.”

They immediately shake their heads negatively and my eyes go wide. “Wait, really?” Feeling Spencer smirking behind me, I turn the card to take a look at it. It really isn’t the one. “Shoot!” I exclaim disappointedly, sighing.

“No, no, it’s ok... It’s ok.” I quickly recompose myself. “The next will definitely be the right one.” with my eyes closed and my nose scrunched, I circle my free hand above the deck as if drawing in energy and conjuring magic. Double-tapping once more, I pull the card up, still not looking. 

When I open my eyes, I’m met with the boys’ scrunched noses and mischievous eyes as they, yet again, shake their heads no. “Oh no…”

This time, Spencer doesn’t even try conceiling his chuckle and has the audacity to comment “Oh, Y/N, you were too harsh on yourself earlier. This is much more entertaining than that little trick of mine.”, eliciting giggles from the kids. 

“No…” I pout. “Guys, have a little faith in me, please.”

I close my eyes and bring the cards, sandwiched between my palms, closer to my ear in an attempt to hear the magic somehow. “Oh!” I open my eyes. “Guys, come check this out!” with that, I pike their curiosity and they scoot closer to me. I turn the deck over, so all fronts are facing upwards, and open it completely. “The card is not here!” Henry gasps, noticing that their five of diamonds is missing. The boys take the cards from my hands and I fumble my fingers in the air as if trying to sense where their card is, humming in the process. 

“Ummm Jack, is there anything behind Henry’s ear?” The boy looks at me inquisitively and reaches for said spot. 

“Oh here!” he nearly shouts, pulling the missing five of diamonds and showing everyone. However, before anyone has the chance to celebrate my small victory, the absence of drawings on the card is brought up, shocking our spectators. “Where are our dinosaurs?” 

“Hey, Y/N, I hate being the party pooper,” ‘party pooper’? Coming from Dr. Spencer Walter Reid? Oh, this is news! “but it seems like you’ve just mixed two tricks and neither of them has worked.” Again, both boys laugh at it - at me -, siding with him.

“No, no, no! See, the thing about magic,” I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, gesticulating like the good Italian descendant my dad’s brought me up to be. “is that it requires a lot of concentration to work, and when you don’t focus enough on it, like I might have, it gets lost… Not completely lost, though! Uh, if we put our hearts to it, we can still find your dinosaurs, ok?” I crouch. “Can you help me out on this one?” I plead and extend my hands to them. They nod their heads and take my hands, we form something close to a circle, closing our eyes and letting magic speak. 

“Uh-oh! Oh, guys, I feel something!” 

“What is it?” and “Where are the dinosaurs?” are immediate and simultaneous reactions.

“Ummm, Spencer.” I turn to the man trying to contain his laughter at the scene that unfolds before his eyes. “Hm?” he tilts his head and raises his brows slightly, still smirking.

“Is there anything in your pockets right now?” 

“Aside from the silks, no.”

“Are you sure?” I tilt my head, contorting my lips a bit and squinting my eyes with curiosity, which he mirrors. He’s intrigued. Mission accomplished - I mean, not completely accomplished yet, but a success nonetheless.

“Well, you can check for yourself.” he opens his arms a little so I can inspect the inner pockets of his blazer. The right one is empty as expected. In the left one, my fingertips meet the colorful cloth and nothing else. 

“You’re right, Spencer.” I sigh “Only,” I start pulling the cloth out “the,” it’s now in the kids’ view “silks.” gasps and wows come from our audience. I turn to the two wide-eyed boys who are now rushing over to grab it from my hands. 

“How did you-?”

“It worked, Y/N! It worked!”

“This is so cool!”

I giggle, feeling Spencer’s baffled gaze switch between me and the dinousaur-printed cloth. I also hear applause coming from the rest of the team and a “they’ve beat Spencie at his own game! You go, love!” from the one and only Penelope Garcia. Glacing at the man in question, I catch him mouth agape, dazed eyes, and a smile threatening to take over his lips.

“Y/N/N, Y/N/N, can I keep it? It looks so pretty.” at this, I smile softly, shrugging a bit as I respond. “Well, it’s Spencer’s…” the three of us turn to the Good Doctor, who, pulled from his trance, nods vigorously and wets his bottom lip in the typical Spencer Reid style. “Yes. Definitely, Henry.” 

As the boys cheer, my dad, from the doorstep, catches everyone’s attention. “Dinner is ready, family.”

Strolling back to the house and quickly side-hugging JJ on the way, I sense a quite desperate, puzzled tall individual hot on my trail. In a breath, he catches up and starts walking side by side with me, causing me to smirk.

“How did you-” 

I don’t let him finish the much predictable question. “Oh, you don’t actually want to know the answer, Spencer.” while we cross the doorstep, I look at him from the corner of my eye, catching - once again - him already eyeing me. He opens his mouth before closing it and raises his hand before dropping it. In sympathy, I continue. “But, in case you do find yourself desperate for it, there’s something in your right pocket that might be helpful.” I can’t help smiling as the last words come out. And, without giving him the chance to question or ramble like he always does, I walk over to the dinner table, settling myself between Hotch and Tara.

As I sit down, I catch Spencer on the same spot I’ve left him, blushing as his brain processes - or at least tries to - what’s written on the little note. He quickly - yet carefully - folds it, puts it back in its original place, licks his lips once more - I wonder if he’s aware of how often he does that - and walks to the table. Our eyes lock and he smiles, in a slightly nervous - or is it excited? - way, taking his seat right across from mine.

Truth be told, Spencer’s known my number by heart for years now for I am my dad’s emergency contact. However, I was never the one to give it to him, just like he’s never been the one to call me. Hopefully, now that I’ve changed the former, the latter will also change.

[teiasviago]

Family Reunion

“Mulder, I should warn you,” Scully started, putting a hand on his chest so he didn’t bump into her, “my family’s large. We’re Irish Catholics married to other Catholics, mostly also Irish. My dad had three siblings and two of them had four kids, too. And now a lot of those first cousins of mine are married and have kids. So there’s a lot of people here.”

“I’ll be fine, Scully. That’s only, what? Somewhere around thirty people?” He shrugged, hands in the pockets of his slacks. Scully fixed his tie and did up another button of his suit jacket. “It’s fine.”

“You forgot the spouses, Mulder.” He widened his eyes and made his mouth into an O to make her laugh. “My Aunt Olive even flew over from Ireland for this. She didn’t have just four kids, Mulder. She had seven. She’s very devout and extremely maternal. She always gave Missy and I cookies when we were able to see her.”

Mulder smiled at that and offered Scully his arm. “Now that you’ve prepared me for the onslaught of Scullys, shall we?” He extended his hand to her and she took it, lifting up the skirt of her dress as they entered the hotel.

He stayed close to Scully all night, getting introduced to her family members and even running into Bill, Tara, and Matthew. Mulder never thought he’d be relieved to see his brother-in-law’s face, but he was.

“Hi, Matt,” Scully greeted, giving her now-twelve-years-old nephew a brief hug. “Do you remember Uncle Mulder?”

She looked over at him and he waved as Matt shook his head. Mulder forgave the kid, considering that the last time they’d seen each other Matthew had been turning two. “That’s okay, bud. You were only two the last time we saw each other.”

(Scully had dragged him along to Christmas dinner in ’98 knowing that he no longer received invitations from his family, and then he’d gone again at both his partner and Maggie’s insistence when Bill was hosting Christmas the next year.)

“I feel like it’s weird that I knew my nephew before he was my nephew,” Mulder said as they walked away.

Scully scanned the room, taking his arm. “My family’s fucked up anyway. A weird relationship between nephew and uncle isn’t the worst thing in the world. We’ll go over for the Superbowl next year and you can bond while my mom, Tara, and I get drunk on wine. Speaking of wine, let’s get some.”

“Sounds good by me.”

The rest of the event passed by much more smoothly due to Mulder and Scully’s alcohol intake, although he let his wife get genuinely drunk, taking it upon himself to be the designated driver. She leaned against him when they eventually left, broken down to her bare essentials by the wine.

“Forgot to tell you, Mul’er,” she said, slurring a little. “Aunt Olive’s kids flew over for the party.”

He laughed and squeezed her closer to him for a moment with the arm he had wrapped around her. “I figured that out based on all the red hair and Irish accents.”

“D’you think William still has red hair? D’you think his eyes are still green? Babies’ hair will get progressively darker and can keep doing that until they’re ten years old. Orange is just a light brown... And he didn’t really have green eyes.” Scully hiccuped as Mulder unlocked the car. “They were just green the day I gave up on him.”

“Don’t say that, Scully,” he reprimanded.

“Sorry,” she murmured, sitting down in the passenger seat without coordination. “Maybe he’s got blue eyes now. Maybe he has blue and green eyes! Oh, I miss him so much, Mulder. They were both gone before we ever truly got to know them.”

He handed his wife some tissues. “We could always adopt, honey.”

“I know. But I don’t... I don’t ache for a baby I’ve never met. I ache for my babies. And... It wouldn’t be nice of me to use a new baby to fill holes they’re not meant to fill.”

Mulder nodded along, watching the road ahead. “I understand.”

Scully leaned her head against her seatbelt. “I always feel like a fraud when I go to family reunions. Everyone has tons of kids except for Bill and Tara. I don’t even know if I would’ve wanted that but because I can’t, I do. I wanna have a big house and seven kids. But I have no kids in the house. I let the one die and I stupidly gave the other away. Stupid.”

“Scully—”

“I thought I did the right thing but I just—let her die. And now our baby has no support system and—and doesn’t know why I gave him up, or—or why he’s different than everybody else—”

“Scully, stop!” Mulder shouted, pulling the care over to the shoulder of the road and parking it. “We’ve been over this so many times. You promised me that if we drank, you wouldn’t do this...”

She put her head in her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter whether we were good or bad parents—whether you made good choices as a mother. We can’t change the past. But what we can be is a good aunt and uncle. A good sister and brother-in-law. You have to believe that... that we’re better than our failures, because if you don’t, then what about me.”

Scully nodded and sat up, sloppily wiping away her tears before taking one of Mulder’s hands in her own. “I’m sorry I get so messy when I’m drunk.”

“I’m sorry I let you drink.”

“I love you,” they said at the same time, and they both laughed softly.

“We’ll be okay, right?” she asked.

“We have to try.”

[sierraraeck]

Return to Normalcy (Pt.1)

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Returning to normal has never been so hard. Just as Aundreya is starting to make amends and fit back in with the group, something gets in the way. Story twenty-two.

Category: Angst, but there’s some fluff too

Warnings: Cussing. CM talk. Mentions of death and suicide as a COD. Break-ins.

Word Count: 5.5k

It was odd, how quickly things seemed to go back to ‘normal.’ It was a new sort of normal, like if you’d moved out of your house and years later the new owners invited you over for dinner, but it felt familiar nonetheless.

It seemed to me that we were all more focused on the cases coming in, and while the rest of the team still went out for drinks after a long case, I no longer took part. It didn’t feel right, and above that, I had to get home and prepare for whatever new guest decided to grace me with their presence.

The nice way of saying that people were breaking into my apartment.

It started the Monday I had returned to work with the BAU. Once we got home, my apartment was trashed with a lovely note carved into my bedside table letting me know that this was only going to get worse. I had no motive for them either, but I had three guesses: they were working for DeLeon, they were working for Archer, or they were working for me. If they were working for me, they were probably pissed that I went back to the BAU, or they were clients that held a grudge.

Either way, it didn’t really matter, because if I wasn’t already having trouble sleeping, I definitely was now. I never knew what day, what time, or how many people there’d be. I hate to call it a game, but that was honestly what it’d become. I tried to track their pattern, but they were good, keeping everything very random. I started making bets with myself about the day, time, and number of people, just to keep things interesting.

I walked into work with new bruises and cuts all the time. I tried my best to cover them up, but I wasn’t stupid, and I didn’t believe my teammates were blind. But none of them pushed, they only ever gave me weird looks, which I promptly ignored.

It wasn’t until I was so tired and in pain that I couldn’t do my job correctly.

I was chasing down and unsub, but I couldn’t keep up. He turned a corner and when I followed, ambushed me. We started fighting, but I couldn’t hold my own. Had it not been for Derek following me and shooting him off of me, that man would have strangled me with his bare hands. Only then did Hotch pull me aside.

“Chambers, what is going on with you?” he had those stern, yet caring eyes trained on me.

“Do you want the real version, or the boss version?” I sarcastically asked. He raised his eyebrows slightly. “I’m having trouble sleeping. I wake up every night from nightmares if I’m lucky enough to fall asleep in the first place.”

“Do you expect me to buy that, or do you also fight your furniture in your sleep?” he asked.

“I do expect you to buy that, because it’s true,” I shot back.

“But that’s not everything,” Hotch pointed out.

I shrugged, “It’s close enough.”

“Chambers,” he warned.

“I’m okay,” I assured.

“You almost died today in hand to hand combat. I’ve never seen you even come close to losing to someone in that area. You beat Morgan on a regular, and he’s one of the best fighters I know,” Hotch acknowledged, “What is going on?”

“Hotch, please-”

“I will ask you to take time off if this is not something that can be solved.”

“No!” I barely let him finish, “You cannot confine me to my apartment.”

He gave me a quick once over, and I tried my best to look composed. “I will order you to tell me if things get worse.” I nodded and gave a small ‘thank you’ before walking away.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I did everything I could to prepare for the intruders, but it was another long night. I was never sure if they were out to kill me or just scare me, but it usually ended up with me fighting two or three people at the same time. Usually they fled before things got too serious, but I ended up having to drag out a body every now and then.

Last night was no different, fighting two masked people until they decided to leave. The one upside of all the constant fighting after a while, was that it was allowing me to sleep better. I was so exhausted by the time I was done, that I could actually get three or four solid hours of sleep. Ironic how the same problem causing part of my lack of sleep, could also help me sleep.

The one thing different about last night, though, was that I finally got a look at one of their faces, unmasked and alive. It wasn’t much, but it was something to go off of.

I convinced Garcia to help me find someone who was hopefully in the system. I gave her a description; a man in his early thirties, red curly hair, about five foot eleven, scar behind his ear. She pulled up known felons and those in the prison system, but none of them were him. I didn’t want to have to raise suspicion by asking her to do it, but I had to know who was coming after me. So I went out on a limb and asked her to search for people in the Bureau, and those who worked closely with Agent Howard Archer.

And then I saw him. Some new assistant of Archer’s that also happened to work for the MI6 before moving to the US.

I played it off to Penelope, but I now knew who was coming after me. He must have been nearly as pissed as DeLeon was about Xena, and even more so about the fact that I weaseled my way out of charges, out of DeLeon’s grasp (if he knew about that), and all the way back to the BAU.

But I had a plan, one that would grant me more peace, and help keep the BAU team together.

Things just worked out even better than expected when Emily accidentally dropped information to one of the deputies that was helping his son get away with muder. Not like I wanted her to make a mistake, she was already feeling more guilty about it that she needed to, and I did want to be there for her, but it also just so happened to serve a bigger purpose as well.

We boarded the jet on our way home after using a couple extra days to catch the deputy and his son. Emily sat by herself in the back, clearly beating herself up. I saw JJ say something and squeeze her shoulder, but Emily was not having it. I gave her the first half of the trip to wallow, and then made my move.

I approached her seat and went to sit down when she waved me off, “Chambers, I really can’t go through another ‘it’s okay we still got him’ pep talk right now.”

I sat down right next to her and put my feet up on the other seat. I crossed my arms over my chest, mimicking her movement, and said, “Nah, man, I came over here to tell you that you majorly fucked up. Didn’t you hear? If you’re in the FBI and wrongfully trust your fellow law enforcement officers who are supposed to be helping you catch the bad guy, you’re immediately terminated?” She glared at me from the corner of her eye and I smirked, “I’m serious, Emily. If you ever make a mistake and then end up solving the whole case for us like that again, I think we might just have to fire you.”

“You’re hilarious,” she deadpanned.

“No, not really,” I smiled, “I only think I am when I’m massively sleep deprived and my badass coworker makes the coolest unsub takedown of the century.” She rolled her eyes. I looked across the aisle to where JJ was seated and asked, “Come on, JJ. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” JJ absentmindedly sang, not even bothering to look up from her magazine, “It’s not like she launched through the air, tackled him, and rolled on the ground a couple of times before handcuffing him from her position on top, then stood up like it was nothing.”

I shrugged, turning my attention back to Emily, “Ooh! So, does this mean, now that you’re obviously leaving, that I will be the best at the shooting range?”

“Okay, please stop,” Emily finally spoke back up. She still wouldn’t look at me, but I could see the beginning of a smile creeping up on her face.

I lightly poked her in the side, and she finally cracked a smile, looking over at me. “Look, historically I’m not the greatest at giving pep talks, but I’ve fucked up enough time to know the usual bullshit that they entail, and I know that not a single ounce of it is helpful. It’s gonna feel crappy for a while, that’s just how it goes, but trust me when I say that you have a lot more to be proud of than slipping up once in your seven years of being with the FBI. Not to mention that you personally got to kick his ass anyway.”

“Yeah, but,” she shook her head, “next time, things might not end as lucky.”

“God damn it, Emily,” I tsked playfully, “You’re starting to sound like me. And I can tell you with confidence, being me, that I do not recommend that path.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying but-”

“But you don’t want to come out with me and the girls tonight,” I sighed, posing it more like a statement than a question. “I get it.”

JJ perked up at this, and asked, “What is this you’re saying about girls night?”

“Oh, I guess it’s not that exciting. Emily doesn’t seem interested,” I feigned a grimace, reaching into my pocket to produce five ticket.

“What are those?” Emily asked.

I hummed, “I guess I’ll have to sell yours, or refund it or something, you know, since you don’t want to come out with us.”

“Aundreya, I swear to god,” Emily started, reaching for the tickets in my hand. I jerked them back, but Tara yanked one from my grasp.

“Alanis Morissette? Are you for real?” she asked.

“Dead serious,” I grinned.

I turned to Emily whose mouth was agape, “How’d you know? I’ve been trying to see her for years, but we always have a case!”

“Look, we have tonight and then the extended weekend off. I figured we could get some sleep this afternoon, get ready, go out to dinner, and then go to the concert,” I suggested.

“Absolutely!” Emily’s excitement was enough to make all of us smile, ��This is amazing. Does Garcia know?”

“Does she ever,” I murmured. “She nearly wrecked the surprise about twelve times already!”

The girls laughed, and the prospect of getting away and doing something fun seemed to put everyone in a much better mood.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I woke up on Garcia’s floor completely exhausted. But for once, it was a happy exhaustion. No break ins, no nightmares, just the five of us girls having the night of our lives. I checked the time, and the brightness of my phone blinded my eyes. The time read 9:24, and my head hurt a little, but I knew how to drink. Emily and Tara would be fine by the end of the day, but I wouldn’t be surprised if JJ and Penelope were hungover until the weekend was over.

I started cleaning up the place, trying my best not to make any sound or knock into any bottles. When it felt sufficiently cleaned, and I did everything I thought I could that would be quiet, I went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Emily was the next up, and walked into the kitchen rubbing her eyes and holding an empty tequila bottle. She placed it in the trash, then walked over to where I was flipping pancakes.

“Damn, aren’t you tired?” she asked.

I gave her a look. “I’ve adjusted to the constant pounding in my head.”

“Right,” she rasped, “I forgot. You’ve got that super power that allows you not to be affected by drugs and alcohol and stuff.”

I just nodded. “How was it, though?”

She looked at me confused for a moment, before realizing I was talking about the concert. “Aundreya, it was amazing. I can’t believe you did that for us.”

I shrugged, “I just figured we all needed a break.”

“Amen,” Tara said, finishing the last of her beer before placing the empty bottle on the counter.

“Beer before pancakes?” Emily asked.

“My head already hurts, I don’t think another swig’ll change that,” she pointed out. When the other two woke up, we ate breakfast and finished cleaning Peleope’s apartment. It was the first time since I’d been back that I actually did something with the group, and it was actually really fun. We were all Alanis Morissette fans, so we practically screamed the lyrics all night. Not one of us could talk properly, our vocal chords probably wrecked for eternity.

When we finished up, we all decided to head back to our own places. I dreaded leaving, knowing that there was a 50 percent chance that mine was raided yet again.

I was the last one out, and right as I was about to leave, I felt Penelope’s eyes on me. She’d been acting a little strange around me the entire night, and I was wondering if she was ever going to talk to me about it. I turned around to face her and saw that she was looking at me with very nervous eyes. I offered her a small smile, hoping that she would come out with it on her own.

When she just kept looking at me, shifting her eyes between me and the door, I carefully asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she quickly said, seeming to pull out of her thoughts. “Sorry to keep you. You can head home if you need to.” She rushed over to me and started to open the door but I slightly leaned back on the door so she couldn’t fully pull it open.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” I looked her straight in the eyes, “But if you have something to say, or ask, please do. I don’t want you to be nervous to talk to me.”

She struggled for the right words for a moment before she sighed. “Do you want to sit?” I nodded and followed her to the couch. She took another deep breath before starting, “It’s about your ring of people.”

“Okay…” I invited her to continue.

“Um, Deen, that’s his name right? Deen?” I nodded, “Well, he mentioned something to me about you wanting to recruit me before I got offered a job at the FBI.”

I pressed my lips together with understanding. Of course Deen would slip up when it came to ‘The Black Queen.’ I already knew he had a not so little crush on her, and now that he’d met her, he wouldn’t shut up. “Yeah, I did. You were just starting to get really big around the same time the Cloaks were going under, and I knew you’d be a big asset to our team. Once I had the ring up and running, I made a plan to reach out to you and ask you to join us. It was a bit of a long shot considering you were using your skills to do good and you’d probably think we were on the opposite end of that, but we really wanted you. Well, I really wanted you and Deen was really pushing for it. Honestly, we were only three days out from inviting you in when you got caught. We were hopeful, but when you accepted the job with the FBI we weren’t surprised. Still sad, though,” I admitted.

“So, had I not got caught, or you’d gotten to me a few days earlier, your life could’ve been my life?” she asked, a bit of wonder in her voice.

I joked, “Hopefully not. But you would’ve been in the room with me whenever I was planning something new or we were tracking a client or mole. You probably would’ve been our lead in operations considering you’d have access to all of their information and security cameras we’d need to hack into, not to mention some of our own.”

“That’s… wow,” Penelope stared out the window as if she could see her other life playing out.

“But I think you ended up where you belong,” I smiled at her.

She mirrored my expression and agreed, “Yes. I think you’re right. It would’ve been interesting though, to see how different my life would’ve been.”

“Maybe,” I reminded, “But you might not have even said yes to us to begin with.” She looked deep in thought, understandably. It was a lot to process, especially since she had some idea of my lifestyle and the amount of trouble I got into. But it was still a possibility that she’d never had the opportunity to ponder. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yes. Thank you for last night and, for answering my questions this morning,” she stood up with me as I went to grab my stuff and head out the door.

“If you want to know anything else, just ask,” I smiled.

She nodded and was about to close the door behind me she shyly questioned, “And Deen?”

I grinned from ear to ear. “Great guy, super loyal, funny, and a natural leader and protector. Oh, and super into you.”

She smiled to herself, looking down a little bit, then gave me a wave as she shut the door.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When I got back to my place, and saw that the door was already cracked, I sighed. I swung open the door to see that things only continued to get worse.

Sitting there on the couch was Spencer. There was broken glass and knocked over furniture strewn all around, and he was like a rare diamond sitting in the middle of the rubble.

“Aundreya, what is going on?” his voice was soft and concerned, eyes wide.

“Spencer, please-” I tried.

He shook his head and gestured for me to sit down next to him. I swiped off some of the stuffing coming out of a read and sat down. “Please. Please tell me what all of this is. I want to help.”

“You can’t help,” I said.

“Only because you won’t let me,” he pointed out. “You’re coming to work with new bruises all the time, you’re clearly more tired than usual, and your ability to think and physically perform are decreasing.”

I looked down at my hands, spinning the bracelets around my wrist. “People are breaking into my place. It’s completely random but I can fend them off.”

The shock and concern in his eyes grew, “How long has this been going on?”

I purses my lips, “Since I came back.”

“And how many times has this happened?”

I looked around my apartment and shook my head, “I stopped cleaning after four.”

“Aundreya-”

“Don’t say anything,” I pleaded. “If you do, then I’ll have to take time off and leave this place defenseless, or you’ll assign people to stand guard which will likely only get them killed. I’m handling this.”

“You call this,” Spencer gestured to the disaster I called an apartment, “handling it?”

“I’m trying to handle it,” I corrected, “And it’s actually been getting better.”

“I know that’s not true,” he accused.

“Well now I’m too tired for nightmares and can actually get some real, solid sleep, so I’d call that a win,” I snapped. He looked at me hurt, “I didn’t mean to sound like that.”

“My point exactly. You’re too tired to control your emotions. You’re irritable,” he stated.

“I’m okay,” I insisted. I could tell he was not buying it, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want him anywhere near my apartment. Anywhere near me. It would only put him in harms way.

“Is this why you always insisted on going out to meet me instead of going to one of our apartments?” he asked.

We’d been meeting up for food or just walks when neither of us could sleep. He was still dealing with prison, and drugs, and Cat Adams with his mom (which I didn’t know about until I came back), while I was dealing with Xena, and DeLeon, and Agent Archer. We quickly realized that there was no one else to call at 3am in the morning when we couldn’t sleep besides each other.

“That, and I didn’t want to intrude on you and Maeve,” I whispered.

“She actually hasn’t been staying over these past few days,” he murmured. It threw me off guard, so I just stared at him with my head tilted to one side. “Yeah. I don’t blame her though.”

“Wait, it was her decision?” I asked.

“No, well yes,” he stumbled. “I mean, I felt bad constantly being away, and the only time I was here I was waking up with nightmares. She deserves better than that.”

“And you deserve to be with who you want. Don’t push her away because you feel guilty, let her make that decision on her own,” I finished with a yawn.

“God, you need sleep,” he said, effectively dodging my previous statement.

“Yeah, but then who’s gonna protect you if they come back?” I attempted to joke.

He reached down and produced his gun, then flashed the other one around his ankle along with a small dagger. I raised my eyebrows at him. He shrugged, “I think I can hold down the fort for tonight. The team needs you to be rested to chase down our unsubs.”

I laughed, “Yeah, but they need you rested to actually find them in the first place. I can pass the whole chasing them down thing back to Morgan for a while.”

“You’re not going to be able to sleep with me here, are you?” he asked.

I shook my head, “In your defense, I wouldn’t be sleeping if you weren’t here. But now that I know there’s more than just vases in here to protect…”

“Fine. How about we take shifts?” he offered.

“No, you should go and get some real sleep on a bed, not a couch that’s falling apart,” I suggested. He gave me a pointed look, and I knew he wouldn’t be sleeping either now that he knew what was going on. “Fine. Shifts it is.”

He stood up to go shut and lock my door, then came back to sit next to me on the couch. I put my head on his shoulder, and before I knew it, I was out.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I woke to the sound of ringing. I looked up to find that somehow, we both ended up asleep on my couch, my head on his chest, curled up in his side. His arm was around me and I wanted to believe that the ringing was just a part of another nightmare, but when it went off again, I sprung up off the couch. I quickly scanned the windows and all the doors, waiting for someone to jump us.

“It’s okay,” Spencer rasped, sitting up, “It’s just our phones.”

I looked down at the coffee table near the couch to see that he was right. “Oh.” I answered mine and walked into the other room while Spencer answered his, cursing myself for being so jumpy in front of him.

It was Penelope, “You need to get here fast. There’s been a death.”

“Be right there,” I answered. I shuffled back into the main room where Spencer was already grabbing his stuff, running his hands through his hair.

“Do you want to ride with me?” I asked.

“Sure,” he replied.

When we arrived at the bullpen, Hotch ushered us up to the round table room, and locked the door behind us.

“Hotch, what is going on?” JJ asked first.

We all looked at him expectantly. “Early this morning, the body of Associate Deputy Director Howard Archer was found in his apartment.” He flashed a picture up on the screen. Archer was hanging from his ceiling fan by his bed sheets. “It has been deemed a suicide, but we’ve been asked to confirm that COD.”

“Why? Is there any evidence of foul play?” Derek asked. I stayed completely silent.

“No.”

“Then what do they need us to investigate for?” Emily prompted.

“His wife swears that he wasn’t suicidal. He had been happier these past couple years, and only recently seemed on edge, but she said he seemed scared, not depressed,” Hotch presented.

“Yeah, but can’t fear and sadness sometimes appear to be similar?” JJ asked.

“Sure, but she claimed he seemed jumpy. Like looking over your shoulder scared,” Rossi answered.

“Chambers, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Derek looked at me.

I shrugged. “It looks like a suicide to me.”

“No more?” Derek pushed.

“Look, Reid, don’t you have some fact about people who subconsciously make stuff up when a loved one dies to cope? It’s like transferring but-”

“There are all different types of memory bias and false memories. Sometimes as a coping mechanism, victims can convince themselves that something different happened, or there were warning signs when there weren’t. Inaccurate recall, especially one of a key eyewitness causes almost-”

“Exactly,” I veered back to the point, “And if there is no evidence of foul play, I’d say we give it a little time and close it.”

“I agree,” JJ backed me, which I found slightly surprising.

“Okay,” Hotch said, “Rossi, take Reid with you to the scene and assure them of our conclusion unless anything else turns up.”

They nodded and left for the scene, while the rest of us went to our respective desks to get a jump start on paperwork.

I was relieved that I had played it off, and so far, it seemed like no one suspected a thing. I mean, I was with the girls for the entire night, or most of it anyway, and would have a clean alibi.

But I did kill him.

When we went out to dinner, I told the girls that I’d left my jacket at home. They all knew how tired I was lately, and didn’t question my forgetfulness. JJ offered me ker keys, which I took, but dropped in Heidi’s pocket. Heidi was one of the girls that I used to dance with, and she and I looked remarkably similar. If she kept her head down and away from cameras, you’d think she was me. I had her drive back to my place to get my jacket while I pickpocketed our waiter for his keys. I drove to Archer’s place, sneaked in through the window of his bedroom, and grabbed the sheets off his bed. I had gloves and shoe covers on, and my hair pulled back, so I was in the clear. I came up from behind him, and strangled him to appear the same way a suicide would. Tying him up to the ceiling fan was the fun part. At least I got to use a ladder I made sure to push over at the end. I then headed back to the restaurant where I grabbed my jacket from Heidi, and took back JJ’s keys. Entering the restaurant, I ‘bumped into’ our waiter to replace his keys, then sat down for dinner and went to the concert.

I didn’t plan on getting questioned, but if it got that far, I knew the girls would vouch for me. I mean, I was with them for the entire night except for the 20 minutes I left to get my jacket.

I was lost in thought, reconfirming to myself that there was no way I would get caught, when Derek viciously called across the room, “Chambers, what the hell?”

I looked and noticed the team and I were the only people left in the room. Rossi and Reid had returned, but I couldn’t figure out what he was so mad about.

“What do you mean what the hell?” I fired back.

“What is this?” Derek demanded, walking over to me and shoving his phone in my face.

It was the recording of me, sitting in the nursing home chair, saying the shittiest things I could think of. And I looked stone cold serious, “I don’t really have to think that much when it comes to that pathetic, riddled with daddy-issues boy. All he really adds to the team is a pretty face and a body that can chase down unsubs. Now that I can do that, I don’t really see his value on the team. I think the team just keeps him around because he’s funny to watch at bars surrounded by women.”

“Shut that off,” I croaked. The rest of the team had circled around me, looking hurt and shocked and betrayed.

“How could you say those things!”

“Derek, I can-” explain. But he cut me off before I could speak.

“Do you have any idea-”

“Yes!” I interrupted, “Yes, I know what I said, I know what I did! But if you’d just-”

“Don’t turn this on me,” he shouted back. Unbelievable. He’s not even gonna let me explain. I’m back to ground zero, and they won’t even give me a chance. “Penelope is by herself crying right now because of what you said!”

That was the last straw. “She almost died because of what I didn’t say!” That shut him up long enough so that I could finish, “God, one thing goes wrong and every single one of you flips on me in an instant.”

“I don’t know how you expect us to constantly forgive you for all the things you’ve done.”

“I don’t. Okay, I don’t. Not anymore,” I hissed, “Don’t expect me to do the same for you.” I shoved the last bit of paperwork into my bag and picked it up to leave.

“Do the same?” Derek’s voice was littered with irritation and sarcasm, “What do you have to forgive us for?”

I was almost halfway to the door when I spun on my heels, “Leaving me to rot in prison.”

“Yes, that was a mistake,” Emily jumped in, “But we realized that and came to save you from DeLeon.”

My mouth was agape, “You think that makes up for it? If you wanna play that game, how about this: I saved Spencer’s life that day, and you repaid me by forgetting about me behind bars. I got myself out of that DeLeon situation alive, and not like you’d care, but I got the rest of you out alive too, so don’t try to use finding me and carrying me out of that place as a remedy, because if I wanted to, I could have saved myself the pain and the torture and just let you all die.”

The team was in shock, and I started taking backward steps toward the door again when Derek recovered and spoke up, sounding slightly confused “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“You don’t seem interested in anything else I have to say,” I spat.

“Look, we just-” Derek tried, his voice softening a little.

“No! No, I’m done with you constantly turning on me without hearing my side and then expecting me to accept your half-ass apologies. But I’m supposed to be understanding, right? I’m supposed to cut you slack because I’m the problem, right? I’m always the problem, with you, with the team, with every single relationship I’ve ever been in.” I huffed, “With me. I’m always the problem, okay, I get that. I’ve received the message loud and clear.” I continued on my path to the door, and I felt all of their eyes on me. Against my initial intentions to just walk out, I spun around and continued, “Just so you know, those things that I said saved your lives. And I didn’t mean a single word of it.”

“What do you mean saved our lives?” Emily asked.

Then I laughed. For profilers and FBI agents, I was surprised they hadn’t picked up on it. “How do you think he knew where you were and what you were doing, huh? Who did you think shot Penelope?” They still looked at me with empty faces. “He had snipers on you, and it seems I just couldn’t lie well enough when it came to her.” I turned toward the door.

“Chambers-” Emily tried.

I didn’t even turn around when responding, “Have fun at your little outing tonight. I won’t wait up this time.” They always went out after paperwork days, and I finally thought that tonight would be the night I’d join them again. But I was wrong.

Part 2

Series Taglist

@justanothetfangirl @kris-stuff @blameitonthenight21 @wooya1224 @unded-bride @swiftingday @dezzxmx

[secretlynestaarcheron]

Chapter Nine + Ten

Reposted Chapter Nine because I wanted them together, it would have bothered to have two by themselves haha. Enjoy! 

Also I think @sjm-things asked on the last post but I deleted it before answering but yes, feyre and rhysand will meet! I outlined the story and I hope to have 25-30 chapters so it may take awhile but they will forever be endgame!

tagged: @sjm-things  @justgiu12 @blxckbeaks @justabunchoffandoms @swagbookmaster @my-fan-side @heyitsrhysand

Chapter Nine: Nesta 

Ianthe walks in with a new pep in her step and her hands full of binders, “Good morning ladies!” she says cheerfully, dropping the binders on the table in the center where Vanserra and Tara were sitting. They look taken aback as Tara reaches forward to grab one as if it was an unfamiliar object to her. 

“We have a big day ahead of us, I can’t believe the King threw this at us so late,” Ianthe replies, grabbing a few binders and putting some on each table. She places two at Nesta’s and she reaches forward to grab one, flipping it open to see that it was full of color patterns and floral arrangements and gown designs. 

“The King’s family will be coming in late tonight and we will be having an outdoor picnic themed get together tomorrow,” Ianthe replies, excitedly, she was practically beaming. “You will each pick a design for a gown your maids make for you, we must have the best for our guests!” 

Nesta frowns, she wasn’t the best sewer but she couldn’t imagine designing and making a gown fit for a future queen by the next day. She looks up at Rita to see if she was feeling as overwhelmed as she was but Rita seemed nervous as she fidgeted in her seat. “Are you okay?” Nesta asks. 

Rita nods but she doesn’t look like her usual spunky self. Nesta decides not to push her and looks over at Ianthe who had finished handing out the binders. “You’ll each partner up with one another and work on one aspect of the party,” 

Rita stands up, moving over to Ianthe quickly, she whispers something to her before leaving the room in a rush. Ianthe turns to Nesta, “Looks like flowers are all on you, be careful the King’s sister in law has allergies!” she exclaims, dropping a couple magazines on the table before moving to the next one. 

“Wait, what does that mean? What type of allergies?” Nesta calls after Ianthe but she either doesn't hear her or doesn’t care to answer. Nesta slumps in her chair, feeling very overwhelmed and all she had to do was pick flowers. “Alright ladies, you have to have your choice by 6pm tonight when we come together for dancing lessons,” Ianthe says, cheerfully, “And you all are dismissed!” 

Nesta rubs her temples, how was she going to find hypoallergenic flowers? She takes her stack of binders and decides to head out to the gardens for some inspiration. She moves down the stone stairs towards the rose bush maze, Elain would love to see it. Her movements were restricted by the large binders and tight bodice. 

She takes the last step, looking around on where she would want to sit down and begin working. Across the garden there were a couple of guards working on combat, Cassian and a girl stood watching at them. He glances up catching her eye, he says something to the girl before moving across the garden in long strides. 

“You aren’t supposed to be out here,” Cassian says as soon as he’s close enough for her to hear. 

“Hello to you too, Officer Cassian,” she retorts, blowing a strain of hair out of her face, “I have to pick the flower arrangements for the party and thought I could get some inspiration from the garden.” 

“The King’s sister in law is allergic to almost all flowers,” Cassian replies drily, “And its Captain.” 

She rolls her eyes, “This is a disaster, I am going to cause someone to go into allergic shock. What if she dies, is that considered treason? Maybe I shouldn’t even have a flower display at all, but that makes me lose those little competition.” 

He reaches forward to grab the binders from her hand, she’s thankful, she didn’t realize how out of shape she had gotten over the past two days with all the heavy foods. She felt slow and out of breath a lot easier now that she wasn’t living off a piece of bread a day and running around town. 

“You can’t tell anyone I told you about this,” he retorts, beginning to move down the trail towards the garden. She quickly catches up having to take a couple steps for one of his. “I am sure that no one is supposed to help you with this challenge but seeing how I don’t really want to see any of you thrown in prison for killing a member of the royal court.” 

She chuckles, “Come on, I won’t tell anyone if you just admit I am the favorite,” she replies, a new edge to her voice that she regrets immediately. She wasn’t trying to flirt, she didn’t even think she was flirty, but he was close to the prince and who knows what he will say to him. 

He shakes his head and says, “I don’t think it matters who I like and don’t like.” She raises an eyebrow questionably at his back but stops when he brings her to a small nook off the edge of roses that were full of different kinds of flowers. 

“These were planted for the King’s sister in law,” Cassian explains, “she loves flowers, so as a welcoming gift the queen had this garden installed for her so she could enjoy it.” 

Nesta feels relieved, “If only my sister was here, she would be able to name them all in a heartbeat,” Nesta replies, looking around the small garden. There weren’t a lot of vibrant colored flowers, but she didn’t mind she could make something beautiful out of them. 

“Well, since your sister isn’t here, you can head to the libraries and take out the book The History of the Royal Palace Gardens, it’ll have an eleclopedia of every plant in the garden, including these,” Cassian says. 

She feels a surge of excitement run through her. “Thank you,” she says sincerely, turning to face him, “I really appreciate your help even if you despise all of us.” She means it as a joke, but there is some truth behind it. 

He chuckles, “He’s my best friend, of course I am going to be protective of him. You didn’t hear it from me but he’s pretty naive about all things related to girls,” he retorts. 

She can’t help but laugh at that. “I definitely figured that out already,” she replies, thinking about the conversations she has already had with him and what the girls have said about their dates. It was a comforting thought that although he looked to be a stuck up businessman through the television he was still just a twenty-something year old who was trying to make his way through the chaos of his life. 

“I’ve been trying to help him,” Cassian admits and she’s not sure why he's being so honest with her. Maybe they were on their way to being friends. 

She purses her lips as she turns away from the flowers to look at him, “Ah, so the infamous Captain Cassian has a player streak, interesting,” she hums. 

“The truth would come out eventually,” Cassian replies with a shrug, “All the time I have in between rebel attacks I use to swoon the ladies of Prythian.” 

Nesta gringes, “Oh Stars, maybe you shouldn’t be helping him. Swoon the ladies,” she pretends to shiver, “No wonder he’s suffers from being unable to sweet talk if he has a teacher like you.” 

“You haven’t even heard the best of it,” Cassian retorts, before nodding down to her binders and adding, “I wish I could stay and chat but I actually have a job to do. I’ll have a guard drop these off at your room.” 

“Thank you!” she calls after him as he exits the small enclosure of flowers. Nesta twirls a little before sitting down on the bench in the center of the enclosure thinking about how much trouble she would get into if she acted upon the feelings she felt when she was with him. 

~*~

She stayed in her room the rest of the day, channeling her inner Elain has she thought up the perfect boutiques for the party. An array of weigela sonic blooms, chinese evergreen, and  bamboo palm. They weren’t colorful and vibrant as most of the flower arrangements at the special occasions were but she thought they’d do. 

She even had time to flip through the dress inspiration magazines Ianthe had handed out and pick out a few designs she liked. As if on cue Beatrice and Hanna entered the room cheerfully talking they stopped when they saw Nesta sitting on her bed and curtseyed. “Apologies, we didn’t realize you were in here, m’lady,” Beatrice replies quietly. 

“Its okay, I enjoyed the laughter, reminded me of home,” Nesta replies with a shrug, “I’ve been trying to find a dress I love for the party tomorrow.” 

Beatrice and Hanna look at each before coming over quickly to go through the magazines with her, pointing out different dresses and what they could do differently. She felt like she was back home packing with her sisters. 

It feels like they talk for hours, Beatrice pointing out everything they can do and Hanna sketching designs. There’s a sharp knock on the door and then Prince Rhysand walks in, Beatrice and Hanna stand up quickly. 

“I came to escort you to Ianthe’s impromptu dance class,” Prince Rhysand says to Nesta. 

Nesta chuckles, “More like Ianthe’s impromptu pain and misery boot camp,” Nesta retorts, pushing herself off the bed and moving towards him. She takes his extended arm, waving goodbye to her maids, before exiting the room with Rhysand.

“You aren’t a fan of dancing?” Rhysand asks quizzically. 

She bites her lips instinctively, but stops herself, he wanted to know about her home. He wanted to know what she went through and she needed to tell him even if it seemed dumb so he would know. “As a four, I wasn’t invited to many parties and there was rarely any dancing, as a seven. Well, no one can afford to have a party let alone have the time.”

Rhysand purses his lips in thought, “That’s a shame, so that means no one has done this before-,” he replies, moving quickly as he pushes her away before twirling her back towards him. 

She lets out a noise of surprise before chuckling as he tries to dip her. “See,” he says, “You’re a natural.” 

“I appreciate your support, but I am more scared of being taught a box step for the first time by Ianthe with every other girl in this competition and off duty guard watching me fail miserably,” Nesta replies, realizing what she was actually scared of. 

He steps, turning to face her, “Then I’ll teach you.” 

She raises an eyebrow, facing him, “We don’t have much time,” she replies, glancing down the hall where she could already hear the music playing. 

“Then I’ll be quick,” he replies, taking her hand and placing her empty hand on her shoulder. “Ready?” 

She nods unwillingly, as he steps forward making her take a step back. “Look at you already getting it, now to the left.” 

They go through it a couple of times before he begins to add the side stepping making them move in a circle. “Stop watching your feet,” he says. She looks up at him sheepishly, “I am trying not to break an ankle or step on your feet,” she counters. “I am sure I have to go home I break the prince.” 

Someone clears their throat and they both stop looking down the hall to see Cassian standing there. “Sorry to interrupt, your majesty, but your father would like to see you,” Cassian says, turning away as if to give the two privacy. 

“Good luck there, I’ll see you tomorrow for the party,” Rhysand says. 

“Unless I break an ankle in there,” she retorts with a chuckle as she waved goodbye to Rhysand and nodded towards Cassian who barely looked at her before disappearing into the ballroom where lessons had already begun. 

The sun was barely peeking through the windows when Nesta was awoken by her maids. “We finished it! Just in time!” Hanna exclaims, hooking the hanger onto her wardrobe and unzipping the garment bag. Nesta sits up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, as Beatrice moves over to the curtain and opens them allowing the light to pour in. 

Nesta gasps, whipping the covers off of herself and taking the few steps of the dress, she took in the emerald color that was simple in the bodice but pushed out by her waist with a cascade of little flowers running down to the hem. “Its beautiful,” Nesta says in awe, the color would have looked beautiful with Feyre hair and gorgeous against Elain’s skin. She couldn’t wait to write to her sisters about it. “This is incredible, more than I could have ever asked for.”

“It was our pleasure, Lady Nesta,” Beatrice replies softly while Hanna nods along eagerly. 

Nesta can’t help but pull them into a hug. “I am so glad I was paired with the two of you,” she replies. 

Beatrice pulls away first clapping her hands together to get them all to focus. “Okay, we have a lot to do, let’s start with a bath,” she replies. Nesta spends the rest of the morning being pampered by them until she is dressed and ready to go. 

“You look beautiful, Lady Nesta,” Hanna says behind Nesta reflection as Nesta turns to take herself in. She never thought she would get to wear something so extravagant before. There’s a knock on the door and then a guard yells, “The Queen and Ianthe have requested to see the girls before the party begins.” 

Beatrice squeezes her shoulder and yells “Good luck!” as Nesta exits the room. 

The guard escorts her down the hall toward the women’s room where all the selected girls were filing in. “Ladies, I am so proud of the work you have done to make this a success,” Ianthe says, before turning to the queen. 

The Queen smiles in thanks, “I am very excited to welcome the Kings family in the palace, it’s been a long time since they have visited. I hope you will treat them all with the utmost of respect and welcome them as if they were your own family,” she says looking over all of them. 

It was hard for Nesta to believe that she came from the caste seven, she was so respected and held herself tall. Nesta wonders if she was always like that or if she learned it through being the Queen. 

“There will be many guests out there that you do not know. I expect you all to be on your best behavior,” the Queen says, “and of course, enjoy your hard work.” 

The girls clap at that as they follow the queen out the doors and towards the white tent that was sent up in the middle of an open field. There were chairs and tables lined up by the shade next to a game of croquet. 

The girls made their way into the tent to begin introductions, she stayed behind wanting to enjoy the sun against her skin before being forced into small talk. 

A group of young boys walked by her talking loudly. One of them ran straight into her. He pauses, glancing her up and down. She feels uneasy under his stare, when he gets to her face he smirks. Lifting his half empty glass up to her, “Mind getting me refill, doll face?” He asks. 

She grimaces, thinking back to her tavern days that seemed so long ago. She wanted to snap at him, to tell him to get his own drink but the presence of someone standing next to her. She turns to see Cassian with his arms crossed. 

“She’s one of the selected, Tamlin. Most of the girls here are, you would do well to remember that,” Cassian snickers. The two eye each other before Tamlin chuckles as he leaves. 

Cassian runs a hand through his hair as he turns to face her, “That's Tamlin, Rhysands cousin,” Cassian explains, “He’s also the worst person I have ever met. Are you okay?” 

Nesta chuckles, “Yes, trust me, I have been treated worse than that before.” 

He looks at her with a weird expression that she can’t quite grasp. “I am sorry to hear that, Lady Nesta,” he replies and she wonders why he’s being so formal but as she turns and sees Ianthe making her way towards her she understands why. 

“Enjoy the party, your flower arrangements look beautiful-,” he pauses as if he wants to say more but he shuts his mouth, gives her a curt nod, and then walks away. 

She doesn’t have much time to dwell on what he was going to say because Ianthe grabs her elbow and pulls her into the tent to socialize.

Chapter Ten: Cassian 

Cassian hits the bag with more anger than he realized, he was mad at the king, made that he had to deal with Tamlin again, and mad about feeling mad about stumbling into Nesta and Rhysand dancing in the hall. 

Nesta was in a competition to fight for his best friend's heart, just because they had a couple conversations didn’t mean that she was going to leave the competition, he didn’t even know if he wanted her too. He just knew he had some weird connection with her. 

Sweat dropped down his back as he glanced down at his watch, he had an early morning and should probably get some sleep. He slips in his jacket leaving it unbutton since he doubted he would run into anyone from the training room to his room. 

The cold air sent a shiver down his back as he locked the door behind him and began to move across the guards towards the palace. He couldn't wait to shower and go to bed, the day had been long and exhausting. 

He pauses when he passes the Rose hedges when he hears sniffling, he glances towards the palace before moving towards the nose. Inside the small cove dedicated to the Kings sister in law was Nesta seated on the bench. 

She was still wearing her dress from the picnic, her hair no longer in the braids from earlier but cascading down her back as she sniffled into her hands. 

He steps forward, a crack from a branch quickly catching her attention. She turns, wiping her tears as she stands, he tries to mutter an apology but she beats him to it. “I am sorry, I know I shouldn’t be out here,” she says and he can hear the sadness in her voice. 

“It’s okay,” He says, stepping into the enclosure, noticing how her eyes shine in the moonlight. “Are you alright?” 

She turns away embarrassed, maybe he should have pretended that he didn’t hear her just scold her for being out and let her be but he knew that she would be in his thoughts if he left her. 

“I think the homesickness is finally kicking in,” Nesta explains with a slight shrug of her shoulders. She's still looking everywhere but him. “I just keep thinking about how much they would love to be here and how selfish I am for being here without them.” 

He furrows his brow, “How are you being selfish?” he asks, sitting down on the bench. She follows suit a second later. “I don’t think I need to explain where I came from, I think blatantly obvious that I am out of place here. I would go hungry for days so my sisters could have plenty and here I could ring a bell and a maid would bring me a tray of expensive treats,” she rants, standing back up and crossing her arms, “I know so many girls more worthy than I am of this opportunity, why do I deserve to have such luxury as all of this when I know there are fives, sixs, sevens, and eight choosing between their electricity or food.” 

He frowns, it was a luxury in her mind to be able to eat, whereas most people thought a luxury was a private jet or multiple cars. He doesn’t know what to say to her, his mother passed away when he was young and he didn’t have any siblings, he didn’t know how to be comforting. 

“You shouldn’t have to feel worthy to eat, it’s a human necessity,” he begins as she gives him a soft smile. “They didn’t just pick your picture because they thought you were pretty, they saw something in you that made them think you could be a good queen. The fact that you have experienced it and are so passionate about improving is what would make you a great queen.” 

She chuckles to herself as if she knew something he didn’t about her being a future queen. “Thank you,” she replies sincerely looking over at him as she sits down again. “I really appreciate you talking with me, I know you’re probably busy.” 

He shrugs, he didn’t mind talking with her if he was being honest and it worried him. “Anytime, but we should probably head inside. It’s late and who knows what Ianthe will put you through tomorrow.” 

They walk in a comfortable silence back towards the palace, a new air between them. When they went their separate ways he can’t help but feel like something is missing with her absent presents beside him. He falters as he hears noises coming from the opposite side of his room. 

He moves to open his own bedroom door brushing it off as something is falling but before he can step into his room he hears hushed whispers and then silence. Turning back to face the door across from him he furrowed his brow, the room across from his was just a storage closet that was hardly used. 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as a million thoughts crossed his mind of what he was going to see. Best case scenario a broom or something fell and worst, he had too many to choose from. He grabs the door handle twist and pushes it open fast enough that whoever was in there would be surprised. 

His eyes adjusted to the dark room but it was clear that there were two figures in the room. He reaches around the door, hitting the wall until the light comes on. A new recruit stood in the middle of the small space, his uniform jacket unbutton hanging off one shoulder, he pushed it up quickly. 

“Your name?” Cassian asks, his eyes flickering to the small figure behind him, he wonders if they really thought he couldn’t see her behind him. 

“Private Bronson,” He answers and Cassian can hear the nervousness in his voice.

Cassian cocked his head to the side, looking beyond Bronson. “And your name?” he asks. Bronson clears his throat, looking anywhere but Cassian, as he shifts to the side to allow Cassian to see one of the selected girls, Demetra, standing behind him sheepishly. She held her dress to her chest to cover herself. 

He looks away from her and back at Bronson, “Mind explaining to me what was happening in here?” he asks, raising an eyebrow quizzically. 

Bronson glances back at Cassian. “I think you know what was happening, Captain.” Cassian can’t help but hear the sound of defeat in his voice. “We didn’t mean for it to happen, we were both threes, when I was drafted we didn’t think that we would ever see each other again.” 

Cassian looks up at the ceiling, he couldn’t let them be put to death for treason when he had been finding himself wanting to be near one of the selected himself. “You’ll be reassigned to the borders,” Cassian says looking away from Bronson and towards Demetria, “And I would pack my bags if I were you. I am telling the prince you were caught gossiping about the other ladies. I am not sure what else he will do but I did not see anything so I will not say anything regarding what may or may not have been happening before I opened this door.” 

They nod quickly and he turns to leave making his way back to his room deciding to deal with all of it tomorrow. 

~*~

“So why did I receive word that one of my new recruits was being sent to border patrol? That’s basically a death sentence to a newbie like him,” Amren says, catching up with Cassian in the hallway, he had been on his way to talk to Rhysand about the girl. 

“Trust me, Amren. This was a mercy sentence for what he did,” Cassian retorts. 

Amren chuckles, “What exactly did he do to get on the captain's bad side that would make him deserve something worse than border patrol?” she asks, nudging his arm with her elbow. She meant well but he was in no mood for her jokes when he saw himself in the couple. 

“You don’t wanna know, Am, believe me,” he retorts. 

She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question him on which he’s glad about. “Where are you headed?” Amren asks a harmless question in her mind but the fact that Cassian was going to tell Rhysand to kick a girl out it only made him more anxious. 

“I have to discuss one of the girls with the prince,” Cassian replies, turning the corner that leads to the royal family's wing. He hoped Rhysand would be here, he didn’t feel like tracking him around the castle or having to have this discussion near the fellow selected. 

“Oh, which one? There was one crying this morning no one could calm her down or the one who was caught trying to sneak through this very hall towards the prince’s room,” Amren asks, “Or maybe it’s the one in the green dress yesterday that you saved from Tamlin’s claws.” 

He rolls his eyes, “I didn’t save anyone from anything,” he retorts, before glancing back towards Amren, “Which one tried sneaking to the prince room? Why wasn’t I notified?” 

“You were too busy sending my troops away,” Amren replies, she laughs when he gives her a pointed look, “I think it was that girl Rita, I am sure she was just trying to get more moments with the prince, I think he’s planning on eliminating a few today.” 

“Good,” Cassian replies, at least it wouldn’t seem weird that this girl was being sent home by herself, It wouldn’t seem weird. “I want this to go as quick as possible.” 

“Just think, one of these ladies will be your queen,” she replies, shivering at the thought, “I hope there's a diamond hidden in all of this fluff.” 

He thinks back to his conversation with Nesta last night, how she felt selfish for being here, she would be a diamond. She could do so much for all the castes because she lived through it. He knew that if Rhysand picked her there would be change. 

He shook his head, pulling himself from the thought, he had to stop thinking about her. He pauses in front of Rhysand door and knocks. Rhysand opens it a second later, surprised to see them, “I’ll see you later Cas,” Amren says, continuing down the hall as Cassian turned to his friend to have a conversation he didn’t want to have. 

[erin-bo-berin]

Stargazing

It’s been such a long time since I wrote something and I haven’t written a Spencer Reid fic yet, so here it is. Warning its SMUTTY. Enjoy!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 2,999

Rated: M (Smut)

Your feet in the water was the only sound being made in the quiet night. The rest of the team had already turned in, but you decided to hang back for a few moments of peace and quiet.

Earlier in the day Garcia had invited the whole team over to hang out in her new hot tub. It had been a rare few days where the BAU hadn’t had a case and she thought it was a good idea for everyone to relax while we could.

Originally it was just going to be a girls night, you, Tara, JJ, Emily and Penelope hanging out in the hot tub—champagne and girl talk included. Somehow it ended up with the entire team coming over to hang out after Spencer had stopped by to return a book he’d borrowed. If only he’d known the hard time the girls had been giving you just moments before.

You were the newest member to the team, a temporary one at that, at least for now. There’d been talk about making you their permanent press liaison. Besides being the newest to them team, you were also the new youngest; Spencer being the youngest of the team for 15 years the other members were having a blast teasing the new “baby of the BAU”. You were 31 to Spencer’s 38 and apparently that was more than enough excuse for the others—mainly the girls—to try and set you two up.

“Oh come on, Spence is great!” JJ beamed.

“He really is [Y/N],” Emily piped in.

“Come on, you’re hot, he’s got eyes, I mean even he can’t miss that!” Penelope grinned so big, she was on the precipice of looking like a Cheshire Cat.

“Guys, calm down,” you chuckle, “I know he’s great and brilliant. I get along with him well y'all know that.”

“I think he likes southern accents too,” Tara smirked, laughing as she clinked her glass with Penelope’s as the latter nodded vigorously.

“He does. I asked him the other day.”

“Subtle, Penelope, subtle,” you mumble.

“Well technically his exact words were that they’re fine and then he launched into some facts about accents that I couldn’t even remember if I tried.”

“Okay enough, this night isn’t about me,” I smiled, “I want updates on all of your lives.”

The conversation from earlier played through your head and you smiled to yourself. The one thing the ladies didn’t know was the...thing that was happening between you and Spencer. You didn’t know how to explain it exactly. Your banter always seemed friendly with an edge of flirting, but it always left your entire body tingling as if you’d just been shocked by an electrical outlet. You thought it was just in your head, the connection you felt, the chemistry. It was no secret to yourself that you were attracted to the good doctor.

“What are you still doing up?”

You yelped, almost losing your balance and falling straight into the hot tub. The chuckle that followed was instantly recognizable.

“Jeez warn a person before sneaking up on them!” You grin, resteading yourself on the edge.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Spencer chuckled, sitting down next to you.

“I thought you’d be in bed like everyone else,” you nodded towards the house where the others were crashing for the night, the invitation from Penelope extending to anyone who wanted to stay.

“Couldn’t sleep.” His eyes slid to you before continuing, “Saw the light still on out here and figured I’d check on you.”

Your breath caught, more memories from earlier flitting across your brain. Was he still awake for the same reason you were?

Loud laughter filled the air. Different conversations filled your ears as several team members were having separate conversations with one another. You were busy listening to a story Penelope was telling, JJ seated next to her and across from them sat you and Spencer. You had ironically became like their fourth musketeer since joining the BAU.

“So I’m getting Sergio out of the car at the vet-” Penelope is saying.

You’re trying to hide a grin as you take a sip of champagne—only your second glass, you know how to nurse your drink well—when you feel something brush your thigh. You ignore it, thinking you’ve imagined it as you continue listening to your friend’s story, certain there’s going to be a hilarious ending to this. A couple of minutes pass before you feel the same sensation again only with more pressure. You almost lose grip of your glass as your mind finally registers the feeling—a hand sliding up your thigh.

Your eyes flick to your left at Spencer whose gaze is still on Penelope, listening to her story. It happens quickly but his gaze meets yours, an eyebrow slightly raised as if seeking permission. Your head moves the tiniest bit, an imperceptible nod, but he sees it.

“You’re telling me Sergio managed to get out of his carrier in the middle of the vet’s waiting room and terrorize a nearby bunny?” Spencer laughed.

“He wasn’t terrorizing it!” Penelope exclaimed, “He was trying to be friends! He kept staring at the bunny through the bunny’s carrier. He’s an old man and not a mean one at that.”

Your breath hitched as you felt his touch graze across the thin fabric of your bikini bottom. There was no way this was the same Dr. Reid that was so good at geographic profiling and cracking even the hardest of codes. You found your comprehension of the ongoing conversation starting to cut in and out as the fabric was pulled to the side and his fingers made contact with your bare skin.

“You had to be there I swear-”

“What would you have done if-”

“The vet was cackling when I told him the story and he said-”

You took a gulp of your fizzing drink as his fingertips brushed your clit, your need pulsating twice as much as it was just moments before. It took a great amount of control to keep your jaw from dropping when you felt one of his fingers slip inside you. It had been a while since you’d had any sort of sexual relations with anyone, probably too long by the way you were already shifting, wanting, needing to feel more. One became two and you couldn’t tell if your head was spinning because of the alcohol or because of what Spencer was secretly doing to you underneath the cover of the rumbling water. Most likely the latter. At the back of your mind the thought briefly formed that the feeling between you both was definitely mutual, but you honestly couldn’t spare it much thought currently.

His fingers were moving slowly, torturing you and your teeth came down on your bottom lip. You wanted—no you needed more. One hand left the glass you were holding and went into the water. You silently prayed no one around could notice what’s happening as your hand reached his, trying to push it harder against you. You pretended you were only trying to reposition yourself on the hot tub seat accidentally making you shift closer to him, his fingers moving deeper within you as a result. It was an extreme effort to keep from crying out like you came close to doing.

“You okay?” JJ asked frowning, “Too much champagne?”

“W-What?” you squeaked. You literally squeaked. For God’s sake you wanted to kill Spencer at the moment.

“You looked like you were in pain. For some reason a few months before I got pregnant with Henry, champagne would occasionally give me a stomachache.”

“Oh no, I’m fine.” I answered quickly, “Just got a little sore from sitting in one position for too long.”

She flashed you an understanding smile before merging back into the conversation Penelope and Spencer were having. How the hell was he so calm? You were practically sweating bullets.

His thumb moved in circles against your bundle of nerves. A moan just barely dies in your throat, but it came too close to escaping your mouth. There's pressure building in the pit of your stomach and you can feel your breathing become labored.

Your hand tugs at wrist trying somehow to alert him that you’re quickly coming undone. You’re not sure if you want him to quit or keep going at this rate. You’re almost afraid of what you’ll do if you end up orgasming in front of your friends. Your cheeks heat at the thought and thank the stars that the falling darkness is probably disguising most of this. Before you could say or do anything, his touch is gone completely, leaving you breathless and craving his touch once again.

“Guys, look!” Penelope gasped.

You looked up at the fully darkened night sky as a shooting star went by. You wondered if it was too much to wish that the events that occurred only moments ago, would happen again.

Spencer didn’t acknowledge you for the rest of the night.

Until now.

“I’m amazed. Especially after how calm and controlled you were earlier when you were ignoring me,” you mumbled.

His smirk faded from his lips, his hand coming to rest right next to yours on the edge. It was amazing how much larger his hand was compared to your tiny one.

“I only did that because I was afraid what I might do to you. Even if it was in front of everyone.”

You swore you could feel the blush from your head to your toes.

“So…” he continued, noticing your silence, “That was okay to do right?”

“Yeah, well yes, I mean yeah it was okay.” You inwardly groaned at your nervous stuttering.

“I’m just kind of shocked. Like I didn’t expect that. Where did that come from?” You half chuckled, half exhaled, trying to get a hold of your nerves.

“[Y/N].” His voice was soft, but serious.

You looked up at him, finally looking him in the eye for the first time since he’d joined you.

“I almost died last week.”

You winced thinking back to the last case you all had worked. In a shootout with an unsub, a bullet came close to ending his life. He wasn’t actually hit, but if that bullet had been flying at a slightly different angle it would’ve hit his femoral artery. Even though he was physically fine, the thought seemed to freak him out for days. Sure he’d been shot before, but there was nothing scarier than the knowledge he could’ve died.

You opened your mouth to comfort him, ask him if needed anything, but he interrupted you.

“I’m okay, don’t worry. It just got me thinking. I didn’t want to waste anymore time not letting you know how I actually feel about you.”

As cliche as it was, you were sure you felt your heart skip a beat.

“So I decided to take a chance,” he shrugged, finishing his explanation, his hand moving to rest on your cheek.

His lips were on yours before you could respond and God, did it feel so good to finally kiss him. Maybe it was because of the pent up frustration all your banter brought both of you, but your kisses quickly went from gentle, first kiss territory to more heated. Hands roamed and tongues interlocked before you gently bit his bottom lip eliciting a moan from him, the sound giving you goosebumps. It was so unusual to see him in a state like this, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

Your fingers were fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when he kissed a particular sensitive spot just where your jawline and neck met. You’d never had any particular favorite spots before, but it seemed like adding him into the equation made it possible. He sucked lightly before flicking his tongue over it surely leaving a mark, but the action caused you to falter, momentarily forgetting what you were doing.

You could feel him grin into your neck as his hands slid up your back towards the tie of your bikini top. That action snapped you back to reality and you finally got his shirt off between kisses. Your hands moved down his bare chest to his stomach wishing you had the time to cover him in kisses and bruises. But you had other things on your mind at the moment.

Your fingertips reached the top of the trunks he was still wearing and you could feel his breath hitch. It was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. He pulled away from the kiss as your hand gripped him, his breathing shallow, his jaw slackened. Your lips moved across his jaw innocently as you twisted your wrist tauntingly.

“[Y/N] I’m sure you want payback for earlier,” he croaked, his grip on your hips tightening, “But if you keep that up, I'm gonna be done for right now.”

“Well that’s no good,” you pulled away teasingly, sliding yourself back into the hot tub, “Because I want you to cum inside of me.”

You bit your bottom lip as you untied the last knot of your top and throwing it halfway across the tub. You watch him gulp and join you in the warm water, settling on the bench seat you both shared earlier. A part of you couldn’t believe you were being so brazen, with Spencer of all people. He had a way of making you extremely nervous, but at this moment you couldn’t care at all.

He reached out for you, his hands pulling you to him. You straddled his lap, feeling his arousal brush against your core causing you to whimper before you could realize it. His hands massaged your breasts as your lips locked once again with his. You arched into his touch, moaning into his mouth when his thumbs ran over your already hardened nipples. Every little touch of his felt like an electrical shock throughout your entire body, he was driving you wild.

Your hands were tangled in his curls as you kissed, before you pulled back to whisper, “I’m protected, it’s okay.”

He nodded, already knowing somehow in the time you’d known him from differing conversations that you’d been on birth control since you were a teenager for issues other than for not getting pregnant.

You helped him get the shorts just enough out of the way before he roughly pulled your swim bottoms to the side, his fingers once again sliding over you before lowering you down on him.

You thought you were gonna lose it just feeling him inside you, stretching your walls in such a delicious way.

“Holy shit, Spence,” you moaned, your hips moving slowly, almost as if afraid to lose this feeling.

He hummed, his lips on your chest, hands gripping your sides. Your hands wound into the hair at the back of his neck as your hips rocked together, moans and pants filling the air. Your head was tilted back, eyes closed when he brought your face towards his again, kissing you desperately, tugging on your bottom lip and grunting as your body repeatedly rose and fell against his.

He was watching you intently, knowing him he would remember and relive every second of this with no problem knowing that mind of his. He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly, curses falling off his beautiful lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “I want you to moan my name.”

You bit your lip harder when you shifted the slightest, the new angle making your pleasure intensify that much more. In addition to his words, you were coming undone faster than you expected to.

“I want you to moan my name in that southern accent of yours,” he grunted, eyes never leaving yours.

The knot in your stomach was about to give and he could tell. His hips thrust upward into you wanting to send you into a glorious abyss.

“Oh god. Spencer.”

His name was rugged, breathless and drug out from your lips as you fell over the edge. It felt like lightning shot through your veins, your hands gripping his shoulders so hard you were sure you were gonna leave bruises on the poor guy.

His release soon followed, his face twisted in ecstasy, lips slightly parted as his head fell back against the side in time with the low groan that left his throat.

It took a moment for you both to still, your breathing hard while you chuckled, looking at him still leaning back against the edge.

“You okay?”

“Just stargazing,” he laughs, “Although you might have killed me.”

You grinned shoving his shoulder lightly, repositioning yourself so you were next to him and clothed once again.

“Did you know that-”

“Spencer I swear if you’re about to give me some statistic on sexual relations, I’m leaving,” you laugh.

“I wasn’t!” he laughed, “I was going to say, did you know that the first constellation ever described was in a poem written in 270 B.C. by the Greek poet Aratus.”

“Really?” You asked, laying back to look at the stars with him. You listened intently as he continued with his lessons in astrology.

In the morning, the rest of the team found you both in the kitchen, still in swimwear from the night before. There were surprisingly no comments but there were several suspicious looks, that is until Luke walked in.

“What were you guys doing in the hot tub for so long last night? I got up for water in the middle of the night and saw the light still on out there.”

“Oh nothing,” Spencer replied from his spot where he was pouring orange juice at the counter, “Just a little astronomy lesson. I was teaching Y/N how to see stars.”

He winked at you, just as Penelope walked in, noticing the whole exchange.

And as usual for the BAU’s Tech Analyst to never miss a thing she groaned.

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to burn that hot tub now!”

[wwyimdln-again]

extended bio and character bios!

General Bio:  This comic centers around a bunch of characters living in the same huge house together and all chipping in towards rent. The house originally belonged to Allium's dad, who's hella rich. Allium and his distant cousin and close friend Randi moved in, and over the course of the next 4 or 5 years, the amount of residents grew and grew, and now they're all living in harmony together inside this huge house.

Cold Pear Species: Pear-dog (or Pog) Gender: ♀ Age: 22 Bio: Cold Pear moved into the house after meeting Randi at a local poetry slam- Cold Pear was there for the free cucumber water, and Randi was there to... actually listen to the poets. They hit it off immediately, and one thing led to another, and Cold Pear moved in the next month. Cold Pear is close friends with everyone in the house now, although she's a bit strange- she eats specific and often disgusting food (such as dog treats, pudding with vinegar, and toothpaste sandwiches) and never seems to smile. Ask her about anything- she has a huge mental database of fun facts and her bookshelves are crammed with fun fact books. She spends a lot of time surfing the web, just to learn... fun facts... And very little is known about her life before moving into the house. She's also constantly cold and shivering, even in summer. Everyone in the house loves her, because even though she has her quirks, she always has a listening ear and will hang out with you when nobody else will. Her and Avocado are twins, and Avocado is older by 2 minutes.

Avocado Species: Avocado-Cat (Avogato) Gender: ♂ Age: 22 Bio: Avocado moved in after he was kicked out of his old apartment for being sloppy and loud- it didn't seem to phase him, though. Cold Pear offered him a place in the house, and he just sleeps on the couch (although there's a free room, he refuses because he says he'll "Move out soon"). His ultra-relaxed nature and go-with-the-flow attitude gets on some people's nerves, but he became close friends with Allium almost immediately- mostly because of their shared love of Wii Sports Resort and microwave pizza rolls. He spends most of his time playing video games well into the night and eating snacks with his mouth open, but he somehow always has money... I wonder why? Avocado loves his sister, although they tease each other sometimes- He did the sleeping whipped cream prank on Cold Pear so many times that she trained herself to wake up whenever she heard whipped cream can noises. Despite this fact, he's her number one cheerleader and advocate.

Allium Species: Onion Creature (Yellow onion with a spring onion tail) Gender: ♂ Age: 25 Bio: Allium was the original owner of the house after his wealthy dad let him live there- It was originally his "summer home", but since Allium couldn't find anywhere to stay, his father passed it down to him. He invited his distant cousin Randi to come and live there too, and one thing led to another, and the house became a home for many many creatures. He's relaxed and has a "chill" attitude, but he's still responsible- he has a strong "older brother" vibe. He still has a hard time getting up in the morning, and you can often see him with dark circles around his eyes- and sometimes he takes care of others before he takes care of himself. He loves relaxing but still fulfilling activities, like gardening and cooking, and he often makes meals to share with his friends (which are actually always really good). He's close friends with everyone in the house and checks up on them to see what they're up to- he likes to hang out. His favorite game is Animal Crossing.

Randi Species: Kangaroo Gender: ♀ Age: 23 Bio: Randi was one of the first residents of the house, and she moved there because she was trying to escape a less-than-perfect living situation with her parents- and she jumped at the opportunity to finally move away. She likes heavy metal music, horror movies, and gruesome prose- she dresses goth whenever possible. Despite this, she's still somewhat timid- she's often times worried about what others would think of her. Once you get to know her a bit more, she'll open up to you more- and you'll find that she's very understanding, accepting and kind, but she's also sometimes tough love. She likes to write poetry but she keeps it mostly to herself. She has just about the world's biggest crush on Cold Pear.

Riptide Species: Fishbowl Gender: ♂ Age: 46 Bio: Riptide is the oldest resident of the house by a long shot, although he doesn't look it- He moved in after he heard about the house from Allium posting about social media. He got in touch because he was finding that his studio apartment wasn't big enough for him and his young friend George, and once they moved in life got a lot easier. He's sporty, active, and energetic- He loves surfing and swimming. He's an outspoken advocate of animal conservation and social justice, and he has a big heart. The story about how he and George met is quite interesting- He found her as a tadpole, dried up in a small puddle, and brought her home because he felt bad for her- She lived in his bathtub until she turned into a frog. Ever since then, she's lived with Riptide.

George Species: Frog Gender: ♀ Age: 15 Bio: George isn't in the house very often. She likes to go outside and find the nearest park, forest, or body of water and explore there, and because of that she knows a lot about nature (but doesn't really know any of the correct terminology). She often comes home covered in dirt and mud with some kind of strange souvenir- like a newt in a jar or a 10 foot long stick. She doesn't really like to watch TV or read books- she'd prefer to run around outside. She sleeps in the bathtub, because otherwise she'd get dried out. She also started out without a name- She picked the name "George" herself. She also goes by "Georgie".

Tara Species: Tar Creature Gender: ? Age: ? Bio: Nobody knows what Tara is or where they came from- Or even exactly what they're made of. Tara showed up late one night when Allium noticed a thick black liquid dripping from one of the vents- He disregarded it and figured he'd call someone to come and fix it in the morning. The next morning, It had vanished, and Allium shrugged it off as just his mind playing tricks on him. For the next few weeks, there was black residue scattered randomly throughout the house, missing food and items, banging noises in the vents and the attic- when Allium investigated, he found Tara living in a toy chest in the attic. He was afraid at first, but he saw that Tara wasn't malicious, just afraid. He eventually lured them out of the attic with a trail of fruit snacks, and slowly befriended them. Now, Tara is living as a friend and strange otherworldly entity to everyone living in the house.

[birbleafs]

[fic] Strange Creatures

Series: Artemis Fowl Rating: G Genre: Friendship & Humour, Post-series Character(s): Beckett Fowl, Myles Fowl, Mulch Diggums, Juliet Butler, Holly Short and Artemis Fowl II Summary: Mulch Diggums finds himself abruptly enlisted by the Fowl twins, Myles and Beckett, to create the best Eldest Brother’s Day gift for Artemis, much to Holly and Juliet’s amusement. A/N: Here’s my full piece for the Artemis Fowl Fanzine: A Fowl Mood! It was really fun to be part of this project - many thanks to the mods & fellow contributors for all their hard work. Thanks also to my bro Digi for being a wonderful beta ♥  There are still some leftover merch for sale if anyone’s interested. This fic is set a few years after The Last Guardian, without taking into account the events in The Fowl Twins (as I’d finished writing it last July). Fic can also be read on AO3. _______

“What strange creatures brothers are!” -Jane Austen- ~.*.~ Mulch Diggums was once again on the run and back to his old habits of skulking among dastardly rich Mud Men, pilfering trinkets and valuables from their homes. And once again, word of his not-quite-earnest—or legal, for that matter—endeavours soon reached the LEP’s ears. In fact, his current whereabouts had turned up as a flashing blip on Foaly’s screens when the centaur had been running one of his routine surveillance sweeps of the surface. That, however, is another story altogether, one that Foaly would happily indulge in if you let him. But Captain Holly Short is a busy elf—short on time and even shorter with patience. So alas, Foaly’s tale would have to be shelved. For now, at least.

So it was that Mulch found himself abruptly cornered by an LEP Retrieval squad in his own home—well, he was house-sitting at the moment, but hey, same difference—just as he was settling into a nice, warm mud bath. That’s the thing about the LEP. Always with the atrociously bad timing, never an ounce of tact. So much for being role models, upstanding fairies of the People. The last thing Mulch saw and heard was a deafening blast as the bathroom door burst wide open, and the zipping sound of a fabric-like netting whirling tight around him. There was a flurry of movement as he struggled in the velvet darkness enclosing him, before he found himself promptly hauled back to Haven City and into the dimly-lit interior of a drab holding room, sitting once again before Captain Short. “Holly! Mon chéri… Compadre!” Mulch cooed, tuning his natural dwarfish charm up a notch. “How’s my favourite elfin lady today?” “Cut the chatter, Mulch. I’m sure you know exactly why you’ve been detained.” Truthfully, Holly didn’t have any hard evidence for Mulch’s arrest this time—not yet, at least. But Mulch had hardly ever been innocent, even when he wasn’t actively committing a crime, so it wasn’t too difficult for her to pretend the LEP knew of his most recent of illegal endeavours (which they didn’t). Besides, she’d lost a stupid bet during a party several weekends ago, and—well. You reap what you sow. Holly made a mental note to never take another sip of a certain centaur’s home concoction of sim-alcohol, recreational study or not. Anyway, back to the plot: She had lost a bet and now she had to pull this dumb prank on Mulch in return for a favour for a certain Mud Boy’s family. Holly could almost hear said Mud Boy’s tired sigh of disapproval upon hearing of his friends’ latest shenanigans. Still, she’d also promised Artemis she would visit the twins soon and she figured this was a nifty way to kill two birds with one stone. Technically, it would be two Fowls and a dwarf. Holly chuckled at her own joke, certain that Artemis wouldn’t have appreciated that quip at all, figurative murder or not. Before Mulch had a chance to explain his innocence this time, Holly began listing down the years he’d have to serve, the cell block they had carefully picked out for him this time, the terribly cold draft they had made sure would pass into said cell every night. And just as Mulch was about to get suspicious, Holly shifted gears and offered a compromise instead. Even though he was still confused and rightfully wary of the sudden turn of events, Mulch tentatively accepted Holly’s deal. And soon, he found himself whisked away on a shuttle topside, piloted by the Captain herself. “So where are we headed?” Mulch asked once he’d settled comfortably into his seat. “Now that it’s just you and me, Captain… I’m allowed to be privy to the details of said ‘deal’, right?” Holly was tempted to reveal the truth then, but she figured it’d be funnier if she let the dwarf discover it for himself. Mulch was a crafty one, after all—it wouldn’t take him too long to realise what was really going on. She only gave him a knowing smirk and murmured ominously, “All things in good time, Mulch.” * From the E1 shuttle port at Tara, it was a quick jaunt to the Fowl Manor. Holly could already hear the voices of the twins drifting over the wind as they made their way past the last cluster of Artemis’ fairy roses and to where the twins and their nanny Juliet Butler were seated by the fountain in the courtyard. Seven-year-old Beckett Fowl was the first to glance their way; Holly could’ve sworn the child had canine-like senses, what with the way he had whirled around at their near-silent approach. He was the very picture of innocence as he bounced up to them, his radiant curls and bright-eyed stare reminiscent of an eager golden retriever puppy. “Holly’s here! And S’Mulch Dinggus!” Beckett squealed happily as he launched himself at her. Holly embraced him warmly, before waving a greeting to Juliet who stood patiently behind the boy. The dwarf tutted, unimpressed at the butchering of his name. “We’ve been through this the last time, little Mudskipper. It’s Mulch Diggums.” “That’s what I said,” Beckett giggled, turning back to look at Juliet. “S’Mulch Dinggus. Funny he can’t remember his own name.” Before Mulch could get a protest in edgewise, he was interrupted by a small, polite cough. He turned and saw a bespectacled, raven-haired Mud Child appearing by Beckett’s side. Myles Fowl had the same piercing blue eyes as his free-spirited twin, but unlike his twin, he was the seemingly more precocious and finicky of the two. He looked every bit the likeness of his eldest brother, Mulch noted humorously—from the meticulously pressed suit and tie to the neatly-combed dark hair. Heck, the kid had even perfected the infamous Fowl glare to an art form, crystalline and frigid as an Arctic winter. “You’re finally here as summoned, Mister Mulch,” Myles greeted solemnly. He ignored the wet, icky sounds of Beckett blowing raspberries beside him. “Took you long enough.” “Summoned?” Mulch frowned, before a thought struck him. He grinned toothily at Holly. “So that’s what this is about, eh, Captain Short? ‘Detained’, my hairy as—” “Language, Mulch,” Holly said, stepping on the dwarf’s toes all while matching his grin with a serene, innocent smile of her own. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I had a Retrieval squad jump you back there in the house. But it’s not like you were likely to be agreeable and come quietly if you knew the Fowl twins had extended an invitation and personally requested for your…er, assistance.” “Is not invitatitions,” Beckett chirped as he chewed on a piece of purple beeswax crayon. “Arty said summons would do in the tongue of magicks, so we summons S’Mulch!” He gave a sagely nod, his mouth stained and flecked with purple now. Mulch gave Holly a look of disappointment. “Frankly, I’m hurt you think I’d even pass up the chance to humiliate my favourite Mud Boy, and what’s more, by teaming up with his own cute brethren. Okay then, little Fowl nuggets. What dwarfish advice would you need this time?” “First of all, we’re not nuggets,” Myles said coldly, just as Beckett clucked like a gleeful hen and made flapping motions with his arms. “I assure you that we are still one-hundred percent Homo sapiens, even if Beck has gotten very good at animal mimicry of late.” “I see this one’s got a great sense of humour,” Mulch observed drily. “Definitely Artemis’ brother.” “A-hem. As I was saying...” Myles scowled at the interruption, and Mulch held up a placating hand in apology. “Secondly, Beck and I, we thought it through for many weeks—Well, I did anyway. However, we weren’t able to make any significant progress in the lab even with Professor Primate’s expertise—” “Not quite sure where you’re going with this riveting story, kiddo,” Mulch muttered. “But I’m still listening, if that helps.” “—and after several failed attempts, we have conceded that we need help from someone with the right skills. Skills we do not yet possess.” Myles paused, his young face pinched with doubt. But his hesitation was fleeting, and he met both Mulch and Holly’s curious expressions with a determined gaze once more. “We want to throw Arty the best surprise Eldest Brother’s Day when he gets back,” the boy said. “So, would you please honour us, Mister Mulch, and teach us how best to make—” “Flatulence!” Beckett crowed as if on cue, punching a fist victoriously into the air. “Please, brother. Not this again.” Myles groaned. “You boys want me to teach you how to let a mighty rip?” Mulch asked, incredulous. “No, that’s not it!” Myles cried, exasperated. “Beck has gotten it all muddled! He means the fettling process used in pottery, not the crude effusion of intestinal gas!” He tugged frantically at Beckett’s sleeve, trying to stop his twin from belting out his favourite self-composed tune called A Song of Gas and Fire, to no avail. For two whole minutes, the group was forced to listen to Beckett’s high-pitched singing of “Pbbthh, pbbthh, rattle-boom! Gas and fire, gas and fire! Heave-ho, the window’s blown!” “Thanks, little Mudskipper, for that, uh, delightful performance,” said Mulch, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes once Beckett had finished his song. “I gotta say, you sure are a natural. But there’s still something I don’t really get. Why would you need my help for the surprise? Like don’t get me wrong, kiddos, I like you two enough. But what’s wrong with Holly or Juliet here, or even Butler himself? If anything, they’re better suited at picking out the mushy gifts...” He trailed off, thinking hard. “Well, I trust the Big Man’s taste for the sentimental, at least.” “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Mulch,” Juliet deadpanned, with only the slightest roll of her eyes. “It’s true Butler had some good suggestions for gifts, but this is a Fowl twins initiative, so we figured we’d let the kids decide on their own. Besides, Beck had other ideas.” “My ideas the best ideas!” Beckett chanted, beaming brightly. “We decided that we want to make Arty a sculpture for Eldest Brother’s Day.” Myles supplied, glancing at Mulch once again. “We know that Mister Mulch is highly attuned to the necessities of good clay work by virtue of his biological make-up— “S’Mulch is good with muds and gas! I wanna learn how to blast clay backwards too!” “—therefore, you are best suited to teach us how to sculpt and—” “And flatulence!” Mulch tried his best, he really did, but he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. He didn’t know which was funnier: the thought of the twins gifting Artemis Fowl, ex-criminal virtuoso and menace of the People, a squishy caricature blob of his miniature being or Beckett performing a pompous and fartastical symphony of A Song of Gas and Fire for his dear eldest brother. Either way, he was rightfully tickled and the twins were in luck. Unbeknownst to many, Mulch had spent some time dabbling in pottery and sculpting with clay when he’d lived amongst the celebrity Mud Men; he had chalked it up as weird hobby of sorts.  “You Mud twins are hilarious,” he said, once his laughter had subsided and he’d managed to straighten himself up again. “All right, I’m sold on this crazy venture. I’ll help with the sculpting of a masterpiece for ol’ Arty-boy.” From the corner of his eye, he caught a glance of Juliet’s smug expression. Her lips were curved into a wide Cheshire grin as she tapped Holly’s shoulder expectantly. The elf only groaned, before she reached into her back pocket to fish out a single gold coin and slipped it into Juliet’s fingers. Mulch frowned at the exchange, throwing them his best hurt-puppy look. “Running a betting pool on me and for only a single gold coin? I’m affronted, ladies.” “You only wish your crooked mug is worth half a penny,” Holly shrugged. “I’m being generous because Juliet’s a friend.” “Aww, I knew you were a big old softie inside!” Juliet sighed happily, reaching forward to teasingly pinch the side of Mulch’s face. “Now that that’s settled, someone can finally knead clay with the kids and get some work done before Artemis gets home from his conference this weekend.” She quickly stepped away, disappearing into the nearby garage for several minutes before she returned carrying a craft box packed with an assortment of smaller items inside. “These rascals had me running to art stores all over Dublin the past two weeks looking for all kinds of overpriced play-dohs, and yet hardly asked if I could help them to sculpt!” She grumbled, not quite unkindly, as she shook the items out from the box, laying them out on a patch of grass before them. Holly looked over at Juliet in surprise. “I didn’t know you were into sculpting.” She thought of all the hours the young woman had spent whooping over her favourite wrestling matches on TV as a teen. “Never pegged you as the artistic type.” Juliet snorted. “Pfft, me? Nah, I don’t sculpt. That’s more a pretentious Artemis thing.” “Why would you expect the twins to ask you to teach them, then?” “Well, I’d like to be asked first, at least! I took the time to buy all these fancy play-dohs for them, didn’t I?” Mulch leaned forward in interest, looking over the packets of “play-dohs”. He spotted several labelled as Creative Paperclay—at least Juliet managed to get some of the good stuff. He grinned toothily as he rolled up his sleeves, feeling a spark of excitement at getting to work with clay again. “Okay then, kiddos. Let’s get cracking and moulding.” * “What’s this Eldest Brother’s Day thing you Mud Men celebrate like anyway?” Mulch asked. They’d made their way from the courtyard into the Manor basement where Artemis had set up a work space for Myles’ messier experiments and tinkering projects. The group stood now before the large experiment bench. Juliet covered the top with a large plastic mat, and turning the craft box over, shook packets of Creative Paperclay and several plastic and wooden crafting tools out on the bench. At Mulch’s question, she turned and gave him a strange look, brows furrowed. Then she let out a short laugh when she realised he was actually being serious. “Silly fairy,” she snickered, glancing over the top of Myles and Beckett’s heads before she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper: “There’s no such thing as Eldest Brother’s Day. It’s just something the twins came up with but I’m not going to ruin it for them and tell them it isn’t actually a thing. I’m not a monster, you know.” “We know it, Juliet,” Beckett said suddenly, blinking up at her with those large blue eyes filled with mischief and daring. “But Artemis’ a simple-toon—” Myles giggled at his twin’s use of their brother’s old nickname, even as he fought to keep his expression stoic. “—and simple-toons need Eldest Brother’s Day. So we celebrate.” Beckett finished with a nod, as though he’d just gifted both his human and fairy nannies with his brand of enlightenment. “Riiiight,” Mulch said, shaking his head. He figured some things were best left unasked and unexplained, especially when dealing with incorrigibly irreverent Fowl children. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for that impromptu alliteration (it was the playwright blooming within him, he was sure of it) and turned back to the project at hand. The twins had already decided early-on the sort of sculpture they had wanted to create. After ruminating over it weeks before, Myles had settled on recreating a 5-inch figure of Jayjay the silky sifaka, the fluffy white lemur whose whimsical escapades were often included in the bedtime stories Artemis read them. Beckett, on the other hand, had chosen to fashion an honorary tribute to Artemis’ late Syrian hamster, Lady Maeve, poised upright on her hind feet in an impassioned stance, gnawing away at a two-headed wyrm. Once the twins had sketched out their preferred designs on paper, Juliet pinned the sketches up on the cork board on the wall for easy reference. Then they got to work. Mulch placed two cups of water on the bench, and proceeded to show the twins how to gauge the amount they needed for their sculptures and how to knead the clay to warm it up and make it more malleable. “It’s a bit like baking extravagant pastries,” he said as he cut a block of clay into various-sized pieces. “You roll the individual shapes out like this and then stick them together to form a whole creature. Like an animal jigsaw puzzle, so to speak.” “They aren’t edible or taste any good though, not like pastries,” Holly added quickly when she noticed Beckett staring a little too longingly at the piece he’d been kneading. She tapped his fingers away just as the boy lifted the clay to his mouth for a quick nibble. “No tasting?” Beckett asked mournfully. “No tasting.” The elf shook her head. “But I do have some special treacle and espresso power bars from Haven City. It’s much better than consuming bland clay. I’ll let you have a bite later when we finish sculpting Lady Maeve, okay?” It seemed like a good bargain, so Beckett closed his mouth and chewed at his lower lip instead, rolling his clay pieces under his palms with renewed fervour. They continued shaping their pieces. Mulch showed the twins how to score the ends of the individual pieces they’d made for the limbs with a plastic knife. Then they connected the scored ends of the limbs to the body, blending the seams and smoothing it down carefully with their fingers and dabs of water. They continued in a similar fashion for the heads, noses, ears, and tails. Once the twins were satisfied with their sculptures, Mulch carefully placed the pieces on a cool, clean shelf to gradually dry and set over the next 24-hours. When they returned later to check on their work, the twins found the dried sculptures were now off-white and grainy to touch, quite unlike the squishy beige blobs they had been pinching and moulding with their hands the day before. “And now for a good splash of colour to make your pieces really pop,” Mulch said, dumping several tubes of acrylic paints and brushes on the bench with much more flair than necessary. He had a paint brush stuck behind one of his hairy ears—it helped him feel attuned with the art connoisseur in him. “Jayjay has a mostly pure-white coat,” Myles mused as he picked out a few choice colours, “but I think a gold accent to his fur tips, ears and tails would bring out his features more.” “Gold, huh?” Mulch looked over the boy’s chosen colour scheme with approval. “Good aesthetic you got there, Mudling.” “A very Fowl aesthetic for sure.” Holly couldn’t help the quip, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Artemis would certainly appreciate the touch. “Lady Maeve wants to be purple like rain,” Beckett declared solemnly, having been uncharacteristically silent for five whole minutes. “Purple? But Beck, Lady Maeve was a golden long-haired Syrian.” Myles tilted his head towards his twin. “If you paint her fur purple, Arty might not recognize her.” Beckett’s attention, however, seemed to be two steps ahead of the conversation. He’d already dipped his brush with paint and was dabbing streaks of purple all over the hamster’s body. “The Lady requests a cloak of purple rain, so purple she shall be.” The adults could barely stifle their chuckles while Myles groaned once again in defeat. He decided it was probably for the best and turned his attention back to painting his lemur. It was nearly noon when the twins added the last dabs of paint, after which Mulch proceeded to spray a coat of clear acrylic varnish over the sculptures to preserve and seal the colours. Then, he stepped several paces back from the bench to marvel at the fruits of their labour. “We have finished at last.” Myles’ voice was soft, awe pooling in his eyes. Hesitantly, he turned to Juliet and Holly, and then glanced back at the dwarf, searching for reassurance. “What do you think, Mister Mulch? Will Artemis like it?” Mulch rubbed at his beard thoughtfully. Both sculptures looked very much like what you would expect of two seven-year-olds’ valiant attempts at artisanal clay work. “Hmm.” He clicked his tongue lightly as he paced around the work bench, reaching into his inner art critic for the right words. “Now, Myles: Despite the crooked tail, you did a fairly good job at carving the fur textures on your lemur. Plus, adding gold accents to the white fur is very innovative and makes Jayjay glow nicely under the light. A very regal and classic touch overall.” Mulch came to a dignified pause before the second sculpture, rubbing his palms together as if in deep thought. “As for Beckett’s recreation of Lady Maeve: It seems far more… robust than the original, almost challenging anatomy and even physics itself. But the bright mixes of purple and gold contrasts nicely with the green and gore of the flailing wyrm, adding a surprising dynamism to the entire piece. All in all, two very good attempts, my young apprentices.” Holly and Juliet were already sighing halfway through Mulch’s needlessly opulent commentary, but even they agreed with the dwarf’s final assessment, much to the relief and delight of Myles and Beckett Fowl. * When Artemis Fowl the Second arrived home from his two-week long conference on Wildlife and Biodiversity Conservation, he was surprised to be greeted only by an unusually silent living room, devoid of the typical sounds of playful bellowing and childish laughter. Leaving Butler to unload his luggage from the Bentley, Artemis wondered briefly at the absence of his two brothers and Juliet, their sitter, before he noticed a strange sort of rumbling noise and vibration coming from somewhere below him. Curious, he headed for the basement, moving cautiously towards the noise. It was there that he found the twins asleep and cuddled around a familiar rotund shape sprawled upon an old velvet sofa. The fairy had his head thrown back against the cushion and was snoring rather noisily. “Ah,” Artemis said, eloquent as ever. He steepled his fingers together, taking a moment to process the scene before him. “Arty…? Oh, you’re finally back.” Holly’s soft voice broke him out of his reverie. He turned to see his old friend curled up on a second sofa, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Welcome home,” she yawned a greeting. “Juliet’s in the kitchen fixing up some snacks, I think.” “Hello, Holly. It’s good to be back among familiar faces again. It seems that I’ve missed quite a party while I was away…” Artemis trailed off when he caught sight of the strange creatures placed on Myles’ experiment bench. “They’re supposed to be a surprise for you when you returned. For Eldest Brother’s Day.” Holly explained when Artemis raised a delicate eyebrow. He lifted up one of the sculptures for a closer inspection, his forehead creased in confusion at what looked to be a purple rodent gnawing on a plump string of green linguine—Beckett’s. “Eldest Brother’s Day?” Artemis echoed. He reached for the second sculpture—Myles’ lemur—before walking over to take a seat beside Holly on the sofa. Holly stretched her arms as she sat upright. “It’s kind of a long story.” “I expect so. Do enlighten me, if you will.” “Well, let’s see...” Holly began, brushing the side of her cheek with a finger. “Once upon a time, there were a pair of twins who, Frond only knows why, admired and looked up to their chaotically unhinged older brother greatly.” Artemis gave her a slightly wounded look, pressing a hand to his chest in a show of mock offense. “I’m appalled, Holly. You of all people know I prefer calculating to chaotic. There is a method to my madness, after all.” “Ever the theatrical misunderstood genius, aren’t you?” Holly rolled her eyes, even if she couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped her lips. She nudged his shoulder playfully with her own, a show of affection. “Myles and Beckett adore you immensely—you know that, right?” Artemis beamed, warmed by Holly’s laughter and the comfort of being close to friends and family once more. He watched his sleeping brothers, curled closely towards each other much like two peas in a pod, before he turned his gaze back to the sculptures in his hands. “I know,” he said softly, still marvelling at the twins’ recreations of Jayjay and Lady Maeve. And for the barest of moments, in the quiet that stretch comfortably between them, Artemis Fowl knew that this may only be the start of the first (of many) Eldest Brother’s Day he would experience, but it was already a very good day nonetheless. And he was content. —End—

[okimargarvez]

ONE IN PARTICULAR

Original title: Uno in particolare.

Prompt: Luke and Ashley Seaver start to dating.

Warning: crossover with CSI: NY and CSI: Las Vegas.

Genre: romantic, tragicomic.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team, Aaron Hotchner, Ashley Seaver, Sara Sidle, Don Flack, Roxy, Lou.

Pairing: Garvez, Luke x Ashley, Penelope x Don, Prendoza.

Note: oneshot 55 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘🔦🐶🎲🎈.

Song mentioned: 13 anni, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

ONE IN PARTICULAR

 It was exhausting. This is all that the brain of the special supervisor agent Luke Alvez can think of. Meanwhile he looks at this, tough girl. Yeah, man, like she was twenty years younger than you. You're ridiculous, Alvez. Let your mind rest. Try applying one of those techniques Spencer told you about. -Hey, who's want to take something at O'Keefe?- he's already about to decline the offer of the oldest, when he hears that voice.

-I'm in!- here, perfect. He looks towards the open and contagious smile of his colleague and sighs. Goodbye, bed, we will probably meet again in another life. He feels a hand resting on his shoulder.

-Luke, don't you come?- although he isn't so distracted, he seems so for the other man.

-Yes, yes, I just have to... check that the dog sitter has fed Roxy.- he mumbles, congratulating himself on his quick reflexes. And wishing to pat himself on the head. Strong enough. Judging by the way he's staring at him, Matt thinks the same way. Then, here comes that mischievous smile that so irritates him, ever since Simmons realized that there was a girl who was buzzing in his head.

The sound of high heels in the distance. But Luke doesn't notice. -You know, I didn't think you liked blondes...- here, he starts to provoke him.

-Why shouldn't I like them?- he replies in the same joking tone, hoping to seem less suspicious. The other nods, but it is clear that he is not entirely convinced. Shit. This's what happens when your friends are profilers.

-Especially one in particular, right?- and he winks at him. For a moment Luke fears he was exposed, but is saved by a slight cough. And in that moment, he realizes the presence of a third person. Thanks to her unmistakable scent, which penetrates his nostrils and remains in his head until he can sleep.

-See you later, guys?- Penelope asks, looking only at Simmons, who gives her a friendly caress on her back.

-Go ahead. I'll join you in a moment.- he hopes to get rid of them so easily and for once, he's lucky.

 *

She would only ask for a moment of peace. She would have asked only to listen again to a wisp of his voice, which says: I go away slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly... Take my hand. I'm leaving and I'm not taking you with me. From now on, think only of yourself.

Why is she there too? While he reflects, he feels that slight tingling that he felt even during the first days with Lisa. That pleasant sensation of novelty, future and discovery. No anxiety, no expectations.

-Let's drink to the couple of the day, and above all about the man who performed the miracle of the century: melting the heart of the most fascinating boss that BAU has ever had. No offense, Hotch.- the serious and severe looking man smiles, hugging a dark haired woman to himself and raising his goblet upwards.

-No offense.- he repeats, then, between a burst of laughter. Emily, in a flaming red dress that makes her looks as a stunning, blushes, becoming the same color. If it weren't for the man who shakes her hand, she probably would have already run away. And what would you do in her place? Luke dismisses the thought as if it were a gnat visible only to him.

-To Emily and Andrew.- the eldest announces and they all do the same. Not long after the first couples began to form: the newlyweds, Krystall and Rossi, are the first that start to dance, followed by the others. The singles are the last, including him. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a rather cheerful Tara grabbing a reluctant Reid and forcing him to dance. His hands sweat, but his feet have already begun to walk in the direction of the blonde. How can he forget what he has felt dancing with her at Dave's wedding? By now the ice had broken, it wouldn't have seemed so strange. But a voice stops him.

-Hey.- he turns and here is a very pretty blonde who smiles at him. -Luke, right?- he nods, feeling Garcia's laughter behind him, but forcing himself to pay attention to the woman in front of him. -Even you alone?- he nods. -Would you like to dance?- that tingling again.

-Yes, I'd like.- he has to get used to it, now it's the women who take the initia-tive. Hadn't it been Prentiss pushed Mendoza to get invited out to dinner? Ashley smiles at him again and he can't help but imitate her. At every twirl he realizes he is thinking less and less about the other blonde. She whispers jokes in his ear and it's surprising, because everything she seems, other than a witty person. He knew her past; he knew who her father was and how she liked to spend her holidays: accumulating score in military exercises. Then the music changes and Luke immediately realizes that it’s the time for the slow dance. He hesitates, thinking that maybe there is someone with whom she would like to share more this dance, but she holds him tightly, strong and rests her head on his shoulder. He can feel the woman's heart beating fast and even his own. Was I getting caught up in the atmosphere? Is it just this? He doesn't even notice that the romantic song is already over, until she separates and looks him intently in the eyes. He finds himself looks at her and before he can formulate any hypothesis, he feels Ashley's soft and fresh lips on his and his eyes are closed. When he opens them again, the first thing he sees is again her sweet and cheeky smile; the second is Matt's wink and the third another blonde woman, running towards the inside, probably heading for the bathroom. He can only grasp her expression for a moment, but enough to throw him back into the abyss of his obsession. And to ditch the girl he has just kissed to follow another with a pathetic excuse, that he can't even repeat.

He doesn’t need to hear sobs to deduce what he already knows. It's just that I can't stand to see her sad, nothing else, there's nothing else behind it. He knocks, not too strong and immediately the sobs stop. -Penelope?- he calls her, naturally, automatically choosing to use the name instead of the surname. Steps, then a faucet that is opened. He imagines her rinsing her face trying to erase the traces of crying. As if she were ashamed for being too sensitive. -Penelope, are you in there?- even if he already knows the answer he is forced to carry on the pantomime.

A moment of hesitation. -Yes.- a sigh. She can't adjust her tone of voice; she has never been good at pretending. -But don't enter, please.- once again that pleading tone, which produces the exact opposite effect of what she hoped for. Or maybe, actually, that's what she wants too, but without letting it too obvious. He leans on the door.

-Why? Are you ill?- no response this time. Only silence. -I can't leave you alone, you know.- he's prepared for a long confrontation, so he almost ends up sit on the floor, when she opens it, to let him in or to get out. Despite the funny aspect of the situation, there is not even the shadow of a smile on her face.

-Hey.- he leaves her decide whether to get close or stay where she is. -You cried?- direct approach, certainly not the smartest choice, but all the strategies go to hell, when he is alone with her. He sees her withdraw and cover her face with her hands. Well done, Alvez. -No, you don't need to hide from me, you don't need it.- it is perhaps his delicate tone, calm with some sweet nuances to make her come out of the shell. -We are friends, now, or am I wrong?- he smiles, as he puts his hand on her shoulder.

Penelope stares at it for a few seconds. -No, you're not wrong.- she replies then, raising her eyes to finish in Luke's. That smiles at her more openly. Carefully he starts to move his hand. They go out into the corridor and sit on one of the sofas, quite distant.

-And then you have no reason to be ashamed.- he continues, in a reasonable tone. -What happened?- he asks her, after waiting in vain for a reply. -Why did you run away like this?- she gasps, realizing that she was caught in the act and that how much she can deny, this won't help her to get rid of him.

She then opts to make him feel pity. -I ... I don't want to talk about it, please.- she stares him straight in the eye with her best dramatic expression, not that she has to try very hard. It comes naturally to her. -Don't force me.- the goal is to make him feel like a worm in case he decides to insist. And it seems to work enough.

-I don't want to make you feel worse, so I won't force you.- Luke says, sighing, shaking his head and looking away. -But I can't just doing nothing either.- he adds, blocking the woman's sigh of relief in the bud. For a few seconds they challenge themselves to the game of looks. She wins.

-Go back to the others, Luke.- Penelope folds her arms and walks away, unconsciously or not, even more from him, until she reaches the other side of the sofa. -I can handle it alone.- it's hard not to laugh at that childish pout, which is also so sexy...

He shakes his head. -No. I don't want to leave you here.- with a leap he finds himself at a few centimeters from the female body. -We'll come back from the others together.- he extends his hand, but she pushes him back a little too sharply. If Luke's upset, he doesn't show it.

-Really, there's no need for it.- she talks overlapping words, like when she's agitated. By now he has learned to read most of her nuances. They've known each other for over three years. It’s almost impressive. -Why do you insist so much?- it sounds like a criticism, but he sees us behind more. She is testing me, does she want me to say what I believe? Or am I seeing just what I want to see? For a moment he lives in the illusion of finding the answer in Penelope's dark eyes. But there is a barrier between them, and it's not about the lenses of her glasses.

This time, he doesn't let go the occasion. -Because I care about you, I love you.- she jumps at his words, not even he has gave her shock. She is genuinely surprise. Was it possible that she had not yet understood it? After all the experiences they had lived together as a team.

However, she is able to recover. -Oh. I love you too.- it would be so nice to be able to extrapolate that phrase and imagine a completely different context and a different meaning. She smiles at him and, Dios, all thoughts are confused in his mind, all memories and intentions. Only the present exists. And I was under the illusion that I was out of it. Yes, out of mind. -But I can't go out like this.- he returns to the real world in time to see her pointing with disapproval. -I look like a panda.- it's one of her jokes and at another time he would laugh at it. But he must not lend a push to her insecurity.

-What you say!- he comments instead, taking her hand and making her stand up. -You just need to rinse your face a little.- and again, they are on the bathroom doorway.

-But then all the makeup will go away and I don't have a way to...- she starts to protest, but he silences her by shaking his head.

-Then? Do you want to know a secret?- only her eyes wide open as an answer. -You are much prettier natural.- and he even winks at her, like one of their first times in the elevator. Where he found the courage, he doesn't know either.

Penelope blushes. -If you say so...- she takes a step towards the sink, then stops, continuing to give him her back. -But they will understand that I cried. I don't want to ruin Emily's party.- she doesn't need to open her eyes and look in the mirror to understand that he came in, breaking the taboo of the women's bathroom and placing both hands on her shoulders.

-Come here, otherwise you will start again.- he whispers, bending down to reach her ear. -Come here.- not even finished the sentence that he makes her turn on the opposite side and against his chest. Penelope doesn’t rebel, says nothing, but he notices a significant difference from their first hug, during another engagement party. She is not rigid, she doesn't try to maintain the distances in some way. On the contrary, she totally abandons herself to his hold, even if she doesn’t start crying again. -Sometimes nothing helps more than a hug, don't you think?- he still whispers, feeling her distinctly vibrate, this time he is certain, he hasn’t dreamed it, it was not his imagination that making him believe it.

-Yes.- she says only, diving completely into his arms; anyone would be clearly understand how she would never let him away. But the voice of conscience is stronger than any selfish desire. She backs to being a rigid and cold body. Luke understands and lets her go. -Don't you think Ashley is wondering where you ended up?- then she saw them dance together. And did she also notice...?

-Even the others will have asked themselves the same about you.- he replies, in order not to give way to the other thought to come out.

And finally, here is her smile. -Thank you, Luke.- she touches his arm and with all his cursed profiler experience, the man can't remember if the gesture has a friendly, mischievous, playful, affectionate meaning, or if it is a clear manifestation of that kind of interest.

-For what? I didn't do anything special.- she shakes her head and forces him to promise not to say anything to others. And he certainly can't deny her anything.

**

As soon as the friend arrives, she drags her to the most isolated corner of the room. Sara says nothing, her chuckle is more than eloquent. Penelope pretends not to have noticed. -I'm also happy to see you.- the brunette woman comments as soon as she finds herself sitting down.

-Did you see them?- the other asks, bouncing on her chair.

-Who?- the blonde scrutinizes her to see if she's making fun of her. -Oh, you mean...- she silences her with a dirty look. -Well, they're not doing anything. They are just sitting close together.- the friend shakes her head, disconsolate.

-It's a disaster.- she comments. -There is no solution. I'm going crazy.- she takes her head in her hands. Sara gives her time to calm down.

-Why don't you tell him the truth?- she asks her then for the umpteenth time.

-What truth?- she replies with another question. The brunette can’t understand if she is really so naive as not to know that whoever answers one question with another one has something to hide.

-That you are in love with him?- she replies.

-I don't...- Penelope understands alone that it's not worth the effort. -Ok, it's true. I can’t explain otherwise what I felt when he hugged me. It was so sweet... you should have seen it.- Sara rolls her eyes. They are no longer of age for certain speeches. -Why does he have to be so great? I hate him!- she punches the table.

-You look like a little girl at her first crush. Damn it, Pen, pull out the ovaries.- she pretends to be scandalized, but she doesn't hold up.

-No! I could never tell him... and then not now that he's happy with Ashley.- here we go again. If this continues, Sara will tell all to Luke. What does it matter that no one has ever introduced them at each other and that he has no idea who she is?

She forces herself to be patient. She thinks back to every night that the blonde woke up to hear her talking about her situation with Grissom. -You were in this phase of denial even when he was with Lisa.- she points out diplomatically.

-Yes, but... I could be happy for them. I'm not saying that I didn't feel bad anyway... I'd be lying in that case. But...- she still looks in the direction of her colleagues' table. Ashley is laughing and her eyes are shining. Even Luke's are no less so. She sighs. -Why can't I do it now?- Sara takes her hand and their fingers intertwine.

-There are only two possibilities: either you no longer have the strength to resist, or you see something different in Ashley.- that's what happens when your friends are all part of the police force. Maybe she should start dating other companies. She has went straight to the point and has hit the target. -Do you think he seems happier with her than with Lisa?- the answer is so easy that she can't even hold it.

-Yes, he is very happy, they are so cute. They're perfect for each other.- sigh. -He is a former soldier, you know, he has that way of doing and thinking a little stiff... and that also makes him more intriguing, but that's another story. And she... she is like that too. She is athletic, sporty. It's perfect for him. Nor is she stupid or light. She has her weight on her shoulders.- another sigh. Sara stands up and joins her from the other side to hug her.

-Do you know why I love you so much? Because despite the deep love you feel, you still put the happiness of others in front of yours.- the friend enjoys the close, but detaches fear that someone could understand that something is at stake.

-What's wrong with that?- the brunette rolls her eyes.

-Leave it. Rather, let's change the subject.- the blonde shakes her head.

-Oh, no. I already know what you're going to say. You want that I go out with one of your crazy friends.- she says.

-Indeed. But before you say no, look at this.- Sara shows her a pic on her phone.

-Mmm. Maybe I could make an effort. But you have to tell him: without obligation. Ok?- she asks.

-Sure.-

 ***

-Come on, honestly. Tell me. Why are you single?- they are walking along a park near Garcia's apartment. The evening was very pleasant, neither of them felt particularly embarrassed, but that question has been on her mind since she saw his photograph. The subtext is obvious: you're too attractive to be single yet, so where's the catch?

-I could ask you the same question.- Don replies, chuckling and finally laughing at taste when Penelope rolls her eyes. She feels a pleasant tingling in the lower abdomen. -I had an important story, but...- he hesitates and she senses that something really bad must have happened, not a simple rupture.

She barely touches his arm. -You are not forced to tell me about it.- they look each other for a second in the eyes. He nods, sighs, then beckons her to sit on a bench.

-She was killed. I risked to make the same end too. It was hard to accept.- Penelope looks at him sympathetically. -I preferred to throw myself at work and think about it as little as possible.- she looks at her shoes, thinking about how to get out of this sad atmosphere, but it is he who saves her. -And now it's your turn. How does the BAU oracle still be on the market?- Penelope opens her eyes and mouth, really surprised to hear him use that nickname that she herself hadn't used for a long time.

-Well... too little free time certainly doesn't help. I had a boyfriend... three years ago.- she chuckles alone. -But he couldn't understand mine, our work, in short. He was unable to help me psychologically, I mean...- she sighs, for the effort to explain herself without being misunderstood and pass for a madwoman. -I shot a man in the hospital who was about to hurt my injured colleague. He is not dead. But I still felt guilty. They sentenced him to death and I tried to prevent it. He wanted me to witness his execution.- she feels the tears sting her eyes.

-Hey, don't worry, you don't have to hold back with me.- Penelope nods and without understanding the sequence of facts she finds herself with her head resting on his shoulder. And his arm around her hips.

-Would you like to come and meet the team one of these evenings?-

 ****

Tonight, Ashley couldn’t accompany him and this is enough to throw again him in the memories of his story with Lisa. In fact, if it was over it was because of the incompatibility of their work; it's true, Morgan and Savannah had managed to make it work, or almost, since Derek was no longer a federal. But Ashley is not the only blonde that is missing. Even Penelope. Just when he is about to ask others discreetly if they know why, here she comes in, arm in arm with a man who he must have already seen somewhere else.

-Hey guys! Sorry for the delay.- she smiles, one of her dazzling smiles and Luke feels an invisible punch hit him in the chest and take his breath away. -I want to present you the New York investigator Donald Flack.- the girls are so interested, but the man continues to look only at Penelope and this doesn’t pass unnoticed by anyone. As well as the way Don looks at her: obvious, declared interest.

-What a presentation!- he exclaims, in a pleased tone. -You can simply call me Don.- meanwhile the wheels of the Latin brain have continued to turn until they reach the solution. A decade earlier, during a case in his neighborhood. The Bronx strangler. He had liked him at that time. But there was nothing in the middle... What the hell am I thinking? Does she have not the right to go out with whomever she wants, like me? I'm not jealous. I can't be jealous. Staying on the sidelines is the only way to avoid making fool of himself.

 *****

She hears the door open, but doesn’t have the strength for one of her witty sentences. -Garcia, I need...- she immediately recognizes him, but instead of hiding, she continues to work on the computer. Limiting herself to hoping for a sudden blindness. -What's the matter?- but she's not lucky. She feels his gaze on her back, the shadow widening as he approaches.

-Nothing.- she replies anyway, pretending to ignore him.

-Penelope...- the tone of the man sounds like a warning. -You will force me to repeat the speech of the other night?- he places a hand on the backside of her chair to make her turn slowly in his own direction. Penelope instantly crosses her legs, proving to be involuntarily provocative.

-No.- she exclaims then, even looking terrified. A shadow passes before her eyes. -Maybe...- but only for a moment. -Nothing.- she hasn’t tried with much effort and the results are visible. Luke gently takes her by both hands and forces her to rise.

-Maybe you would need this?- he asks her before hugging her. But she struggles, not too forcefully.

-No, no, it's better than no.- to the point that he leaves her free. -Really.- he watches her caressing her arms alone. An attitude that he has seen too many times in a woman. And he knows perfectly the meaning of this gesture. Even if it doesn't seem possible.

-Did something happen with Don?- he is forced to ask. As bad it could be, he must know the truth. -Did he hurt you?- is his low and guttural tone of voice that most frightens Penelope. She can't know, but it's the same as when he asked what happened to Battle and the interrogations with Shaw after seeing her in tears. -Because if was that, I...- Penelope stops him, putting her hand on his arm for a second.

-No, he's a sweetie, he's fantastic, really.- Luke doesn't seem to be a hundred percent convinced. -It has nothing to do with him. My problem is… me.- she finally admitted and now she feels free, light. She breathes a sigh and the same air seems to have a different taste.

-You could never be a problem, Penelope.- the man replies in a gentle tone. But in reality, the thoughts that buzz around his head are quite different. It's a sweetie, it's fantastic. Damn it. So why are you so sad? Why isn't he here to console you? Think about it, he works a lot of miles from here. Yes, but I would have moved for her. What I said? He must definitely stop conducting conversations with himself. The thing is starting to get out of hand.

-Thanks, Luke, you are very sweet.- Penelope rewards him, giving him a small smile. -But there's nothing you can do to help me. I'm sorry.- he shakes his head, annoyed. And for once he says exactly what he thinks.

-I don't believe it, I can't accept it.- she replies nothing, just looks at him. -You're my friend, I love you, it's not possible.- he says again. I love you that it would be so easy to exchange for something else. But no, now he has Ashley. It means nothing.

-Maybe I can accept that hug.- she throws it there, then, hoping to get away with it this way. -But then you tell me what you needed and go back to work like a good guy.- she intimates with a voice that makes her look like the Garcia he fell in love with. Shit. Well, you admitted it now. What are you doing standing there? Hug. At least this is not an ambiguous gesture. Here, so, spread your arms.

-I am forced to accept the compromise.- he sighs. Good, stay above her hips, you don't have to cross certain borders. Try to forget that the prosperous breasts you've been spying on a thousand times are now pressed against your chest. A little sob. But she doesn't seem to have noticed anything. Hey, little Luke, you don't help me like that. What is my fault if you have a sick mind? Try to think of something that is totally anti-sex. But he can't do it, because the scent of Penelope's hair makes his head spin completely. For this he comes off and keeps himself a little too away to forward his request.

******

 He is distracted just a second and then an orange spot darted past him and stopped only in front of a gate. -Roxy!- she's waiting for him sitting on the bench with a very intriguing crooked smile. She looks at her watch and shakes her head, her blond hair gathered in a neat braid.

-We gave you two minutes, Alvez.- she caresses the dog, she makes some tickle behind her ears. He lets himself go beside her. -Hey Luke.- he looks at her inquisitive look. She puts her hand on his knee, giving him a slight shiver down his spine. -Are you okay?- he meditates for a moment whether a harmless lie or the raw truth is more convenient. -You're pensive.- he nods and takes her hand, intertwining their fingers. He needs contact and human warmth. He needs to stop thinking.

-Yes, you are right. It's that... I don't know.- he sighs and shakes his head.

-You're confused.- Ashley begins to explain in his place. -You're in love, but not with me.- Luke doesn't deny it and that's enough. -Are you afraid of hurting me and hurting yourself, am I right?- even if he doesn't want to, he finds himself smiling like he was caught. -I can't speak for other people, but as far as I'm concerned... we can continue to see each other and take a little jog every now and then, without necessarily being together. Don't get me wrong, it was nice, well... you kiss well and you're pretty cute. But I noticed it almost immediately that you were almost always with your head elsewhere.- he is about to apologize but she doesn't leave him. -Luke, I really mean, I'm not madly in love with you, not yet, at least.- the subtext is clear. -So, I just ask you to be honest. Do you already have another person in your heart or I’m doing too many paranoia?- he sighs, feeling like a profiteer, because he has done nothing to deal with this situation.

-Yes, you're right.- he admits, forcing himself to look into her eyes as he says it. -It was nice for me too. And I'd like to meet you again and challenge you to run.- she smiles at him giving him an affectionate little push.

-We are better suited to be friends than something more. Think about it: we are too similar. There is complicity, but it lacks... you know, the... the passion.- he nods. -And with the other? I guess it's a woman. With her you have that shock, you feel that shiver in the air?- he hesitates a moment, but not out of uncertainty. -I told you, you don't have to worry about me. Indeed, don't you want to take advantage of another girl's opinion?-

 *******

Being alone again, or almost, is not that bad. Roxy gives him a tug. Sorry, girl, I meant a human company. He has now resigned himself to continuing to speak alone. At least he does it only in his head, so nobody can see it. The dog continues to pull, which is quite unusual for her. It is trained to do so only when there is a goal to be achieved. And indeed, even if he has not yet realized, it is so.

-Roxy, slow down, you'll make me fall! Have pity for a lonely man.- but she ignores him and his delirium is interrupted when he sees the reason for so much anxiety: another Belgian shepherd, thin, slender, recently no longer a puppy, whom he knows very well. As well as the woman who takes him on a leash. Blonde and decidedly exhausted by attempts to keep up with Lou. -Penelope!- Roxy meanwhile, as a good older sister, is sniffing the younger one, checking his health. Penelope wears casual clothes and sneakers that make her almost another person.

-Hey!- she greets him, then looks around, so that he suspects she is not alone. For a good minute he lives in terror of seeing the handsome New York detective appear.

-I'm glad to have met you, because I was just thinking of calling you.- it's not about courage, but about inevitability. Ashley threatened him after making him spill the beans. Better that she comes to know it from him and not from others. In any case it will be embarrassing, but in this way, a little less.

-Oh yes? Do you need help with some electronic devices?- she, naive, hasn’t guessed anything. She tries to settle a rebellious strand, but between Lou's shots and the bag that unbalances her, it doesn’t seem a viable undertaking.

-No, nothing like that.- Luke walks over and does it in her place. For a moment they look at each other without practically breathing. Then he breaks the bubble. -So... how's it going with Don?- Penelope sighs and searches for the dog's head to give herself support.

-It’s not going.- she replies, not knowing that she has illuminated all the spies in her colleague's brain. -I stopped seeing him because... I wouldn't want to talk about it, but I'm afraid you'll insist.- he just stares at her. -It's the usual boring and banal thing you see happening in the movies.- she bends down to caress both dogs. No necklines to take advantage of, this time. So, it's easier to focus only on her words. -He was perfect, really, sweet, caring, interesting and interested in me...- again a praise that he doesn’t particularly like to listen -also from the physical point of view...- here, considering that there is worse? -The problem is that unfortunately when I met him... I was already in love with someone else.- What was that Ashley told you about? You felt that vibration now. No, directly an earth-quake. But look, she could even talk about someone else, it doesn't have to be you. Maybe that bar-tender who is always nice... But if he's gay! He forces both voices to keep quiet because she is looking at him strangely. -I tried to go out with him to see if I would have been able to not think at least for a while...- she was going to say the name, but unfortunately for him she stopped on the edge of the ravine -but it didn't work and since he's a good person , I preferred to clarify the situation.- she lifts up and starts walking again. He follows her.

-Oh... I...- Penelope shakes her head.

-No need for you to say it, I know.- unexpectedly she takes his hand and squeezes it. -Thank you for your time.- he opens his eyes wide, but the contact doesn’t last long. - Although I doubt they are things you can understand... because you found the right one.- he freezes, forcing her to do the same and so do the dogs.

-Who, Ashley? I'm sorry to give you a disappointment...- he gets messed up, even blushing. She chuckles. -We broken up, well, it's not like we've ever really been a couple, anyway... I was... too- wrong verb tense -I'm in love with another woman.- it's her turn to be surprised.

-Let me guess: it's blonde.- but she passes the ball again to him. Luke fails to mask the confusion. He thinks she finally understood.

-How did you..?- she doesn't seem very happy though. She lowers again, letting his dog kiss her.

-I heard you say a month ago to Matt that you liked a blonde colleague.- she says, in a low tone, without looking at him even by mistake. -I thought you were referring to Ashley, then you two started dating...- Luke understands how she should close the subject before he gets even more messed up.

-No, I wasn't referring to her.- he takes her from under her shoulders and pulls her up, a gesture that both consider too intimate, strange. The two dogs also stop chasing each other and twist the leads around them.

-But then... who can it be?- he admires her as she tries hard to reach the solution of the enigma. Her furrowed brow, her concentrated expression, her lips slightly bent. God, her mouth. Don't stare at it or it will be the end. -JJ no, because she is married.- luckily she brings out a theory so absurd as to force him to answer her. -It's not JJ, is it?- how can she think he might be in love with a married woman and that has two children?

-Of course not!- he sounds a little too indignant.

-Then, I don't understand.- and her naivety and confusion instead of making him angry, makes her even more attractive in his eyes. Literally irresistible.

-Pen, you're practically omniscient, you can find information in a few seconds, but sometimes you don't get to the solution that you have exactly in front of your nose.- he gradually lowers the tone. He takes Lou's leash from her hand. He doesn't need another one to do what he has in mind.

-You mean...?- she widens her eyes, her pupils dilated. He also frees her right hand from the bag, which he places at their feet. And he puts his hand behind her neck. This was not the original plan, but he will not stop.

-I’m sure that usually you follow the rule of third date, but for me you can do an exception…- Penelope has only time to remember that she and Don have argued a similar argument, then Luke does exactly what he seemed he has decided to do. He kisses her, with passion, love, not able to stop or hold himself. When their lips are in touch, it seems that the whole Sun system has found its right alignment.  She doesn’t stay inactive, she kisses him back, despite the sensation of unreality. And then, they can’t leave each other. She leans her head in the crease of his shoulder. Other pieces find their places. No only one voices in Luke head seem to have something to say.

-So it is true that you like blondes?- she asks with her natural tone, full of life, joyful, enthusiastic for any minutia. -You didn't look like the type.- Luke chuckles. -Maybe it was the only thing that  made Ashley seem not like the perfect girl for you.- she adds. Luke opens his mouth and changes his mind at the last second.

-Yes, I like blondes, or rather...- dramatic pause. With his free hand from the leash, he lifts her chin up to bring their lips close a few millimeters -one in particular.- Penelope moves her mouth in funny expressions.

-Mmm.- but with eyes she laughs.

-And you?- he provokes her without putting an end to the sweet torture. -Based on your track record, I would say that you prefer dark hair...- she bites her tongue. But then she answers in the same tone.

-Yes, but one in particular.- she whispers, before ending the distance.

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

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[metaverseproductions]

Chapter 1.5 (Bill Gates and the road to Implanted Humans)

Down the Rabbit Hole we go. 

Back on June 1st of 2015, the reputable IEEE published an article titled “Medical Microbots Take a Fantastic Voyage Into Reality”. This was the year after I had read about the Max Planck “micro scallops” and wondered what it would take to get critical mass implanted with these micro robots (and future nano bots). 

In referencing the article’s approach of having a Doctor implant hundreds or  thousands of “micro grippers” (developed by Johns Hopkins) into the human body to perform a biopsy, the natural progression of questioning its capabilities led me to ask if they can also be used to implant micro or nano chips into the body”?

What would be the purpose of this on the grand scale of humanity? Beyond medical applications of implanted technology (such as heart monitors) that can already be hacked, what if the ultimate goal was behavior modification of the masses? We know that this is possible based on previous lab tests on mice, but could it work on humans? 

I often wonder if US Patent #US6754472B1 filed by Microsoft was designed for more than just systems integration between wearable and implantable IoT technologies. (Source: https://patents.google.com/patent/US6754472B1/en)

"...a body of a living creature for coupling the first device to the second device and for conducting the electrical signal from the first device to the second device and the initialization information from the second device to the first device, wherein the first and second devices establish a master and a slave relationship there between."  Makes one think of the #Matrix and  #HumanBatteries 

On April 10th 2020, China’s CCTV went live with Bill Gates and made the following comment:

“You are being attacked in the U.S., they say the #CoronaVirus originated from the process of vaccine development under your supervision. What is your take on this Bill Gates conspiracy”?  

His response begins with: “I say it’s ironic, if you take somebody that is doing their best to get the world ready...”

I will tell you what is TRULY IRONIC! How about that “Event 201″ that took place on October 2019, TWO MONTHS before the COVID19 Pandemic began and was hosted  by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation.  Source: https://www.centerforhealthsecurity.org/event201/about

About the Event 201 exercise

Event 201 was a 3.5-hour pandemic tabletop exercise that simulated a series of dramatic, scenario-based facilitated discussions, confronting difficult, true-to-life dilemmas associated with response to a hypothetical, but scientifically plausible, pandemic. 15 global business, government, and public health leaders were players in the simulation exercise that highlighted unresolved real-world policy and economic issues that could be solved with sufficient political will, financial investment, and attention now and in the future.

The exercise consisted of pre-recorded news broadcasts, live “staff” briefings, and moderated discussions on specific topics. These issues were carefully designed in a compelling narrative that educated the participants and the audience.

The Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security, World Economic Forum, and Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation jointly propose these recommendations.

Purpose

In recent years, the world has seen a growing number of epidemic events, amounting to approximately 200 events annually. These events are increasing, and they are disruptive to health, economies, and society. Managing these events already strains global capacity, even absent a pandemic threat. Experts agree that it is only a matter of time before one of these epidemics becomes global—a pandemic with potentially catastrophic consequences. A severe pandemic, which becomes “Event 201,” would require reliable cooperation among several industries, national governments, and key international institutions.

Recent economic studies show that pandemics will be the cause of an average annual economic loss of 0.7% of global GDP—or $570 billion. The players’ responses to the scenario illuminated the need for cooperation among industry, national governments, key international institutions, and civil society, to avoid the catastrophic consequences that could arise from a large-scale pandemic.

Similar to the Center’s 3 previous exercises—Clade X, Dark Winter, and Atlantic Storm—Event 201 aimed to educate senior leaders at the highest level of US and international governments and leaders in global industries.

It is also a tool to inform members of the policy and preparedness communities and the general public. This is distinct from many other forms of simulation exercises that test protocols or technical policies of a specific organization. Exercises similar to Event 201 are a particularly effective way to help policymakers gain a fuller understanding of the urgent challenges they could face in a dynamic, real-world crisis.

Recommendations

The next severe pandemic will not only cause great illness and loss of life but could also trigger major cascading economic and societal consequences that could contribute greatly to global impact and suffering. The Event 201 pandemic exercise, conducted on October 18, 2019, vividly demonstrated a number of these important gaps in pandemic preparedness as well as some of the elements of the solutions between the public and private sectors that will be needed to fill them. The Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security, World Economic Forum, and Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation jointly propose these recommendations.

When/where

Friday, October 18, 2019 8:45 a.m. – 12:30 p.m. The Pierre hotel New York, NY

Audience

An invitation-only audience of nearly 130 people attended the exercises, and a livestream of the event was available to everyone. Video coverage is available here.

Exercise team

Eric Toner, MD, is the exercise team lead from the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security. Crystal Watson, DrPH, MPH and Tara Kirk Sell, PhD, MA are co-leads from the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security. Ryan Morhard, JD, is the exercise lead from the World Economic Forum, and Jeffrey French is the exercise lead for the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.

Exercise team members are Tom Inglesby, MD; Anita Cicero, JD; Randy Larsen, USAF (retired); Caitlin Rivers, PhD, MPH; Diane Meyer, RN, MPH; Matthew Shearer, MPH; Matthew Watson; Richard Bruns, PhD; Jackie Fox; Andrea Lapp; Margaret Miller; Carol Miller; and Julia Cizek.

Event 201 was supported by funding from the Open Philanthropy Project.

###

Then five months later (March 2020), in the midst of the CoronaVirus epidemic being declared a global pandemic, this news breaks from LinkedIn (Source: https://www.cnbc.com/2020/03/13/bill-gates-leaves-microsoft-board.html):

“Microsoft announced on Friday that Bill Gates is leaving the board, effective Friday. “I have made the decision to step down from both of the public boards on which I serve – Microsoft and Berkshire Hathaway – to dedicate more time to philanthropic priorities including global health and development, education, and my increasing engagement in tackling climate change”.

Basically, the “pandemic scenario” of Event 201 became a reality. Bill Gates leaves Microsoft to focus full time on his Foundation, which coincidentially had been funding coronavirus research and has now been revealed to be the second largest funder to the World Health Organization (WHO), coincidentally, (yet again) in charge of coming up with the vaccine for COVID19. Who profits from the pandemic under this scenario? Bingo! Just look at the history of Microsoft and how Bill Gates became a billionaire. It was not by playing nice and more like a chapter from of the Art of War.

Yet the disbelief doesn't stop there. How about that #ID2020 and what Bill Gates calls for in a "national tracking system similar to South Korea, saying that "in Seattle, the [University of Washington] is providing thousands of tests per day but no one is connected to a national tracking system" and that "Whenever there is a positive test it should be seen to understand where the disease is and whether we need to strengthen the social distancing." (Source: https://www.forbes.com/sites/mattperez/2020/03/18/bill-gates-calls-for-national-tracking-system-for-coronavirus-during-reddit-ama/#36c92b5e6a72)

Could this ID2020 be implanted? Would that benefit Microsoft’s U.S. patent #US6754472B1?

The United Nations seems to think there are significant risks associated with a digital identity roll-out, such as: “Digital identity carries significant risk if not thoughtfully designed and carefully implemented. We do not underestimate the risks of data misuse and abuse, particularly when digital identity systems are designed as large, centralized databases”. (Source: https://id2020.org/manifesto)

All in all, I would say that the sense of irony expressed by Bill Gates on the #CCTV interview, is a two-way street as #WeThePeople of the United States have more time to research in self isolation and petition the White House to investigate Bill Gates.

Who gets to play God in this time? Event 201 was a game of playing God to develop depopulation strategies for a Human Disruption. While the intent might have found a root cause in the question of how to survive Climate Change, why is the survival and evolution of the human species primarily in the hands of Bill Gates?

If human overpopulation is such an issue, why isn’t Euthanasia legal for humans everywhere? Think about it, how many people suffering from old age, disease, poverty, and extreme suffering would opt for dying quickly and peacefully. Why choose for others and take away someone’s power over their own body and existence? 

My advice: find out what magnets are needed to remove grippers, buy them and start developing methods for removing micro and nano bots from the body.  Also help to promote active voluntuary euthanasia around the world before pushing for legislation to place technology into the bodies of millions of people against their will.

[buckleyy--diazz]

Here's some untitled angsty Narry with a happy ending. Enjoy!

That's creepy you know that

Niall reads and re-read the text from Harry. He hadn't talked to him in weeks, maybe months and the text was confusing Niall. Harry had sent it in the middle of the night and Niall had no idea what Harry was referring to. Despite his better judgement he decides to text him back.

"What are you talking about?"

Niall doesn't expect an answer immediately, for all he knows Harry could have changed his number again. Niall usually receive a text from an unknown number every few months telling him Harry changed his number again. Everytime Niall rolls his eyes and text Harry back to tell him he saved his new number. He also tells him how many times he changed it in just a few years. Last time Harry was at 76. 

"Your latest Instagram post."

It takes Niall a second to remember what he last posted on Instagram. He closes the text conversation and opens the app. 

Oh.

Niall can see why Harry is a bit creeped out. He's been too when he first saw Conor's tattoo. The rose was not that bad, lots of men have roses tattooed on their bodies but the mermaid...It was too similar. Niall mentioned how it was making him uncomfortable but Conor shrugged it off saying he had no idea Harry had similar tattoos. Niall had wanted to call him out on it but he didn't felt like fighting with a friend. Despite his obvious attempt at looking like Harry, he was a nice guy and Niall didn't want to lose him as a friend. 

"Creeping again I see" Niall sent back, ignoring Harry's comment.

"Why do you hang out with the Primark version of myself when you can have the real one?"

Niall rolls his eyes when he reads Harry's message. He loves him but sometimes Harry acts like a conceited arse. 

"Nothing wrong with shopping at Primark."

"I know but you have enough to shop at Gucci."

"Gucci's never around so it's a bit difficult to shop there."

"Niall."

"Harry."

Niall closes his phone and throws it on his bed. He doesn't have time for this. He has a busy day and needs to be in the studio in one hour. Niall needs a long shower, he'll deal with Harry later. Harry will be pissed, he hates when Niall ignores him. Harry is never around, never stays at the same place for more than two or three weeks so he has no room to judge. Everytime Niall tried to talk about their relationship, tried to make things work out Harry left. Niall thought for a long time Harry would change, that he would stay in one place for him but he realised it would not happen so Niall stopped trying. He loved Harry, he had never stopped. They broke up for the first time a few months after the band went on hiatus, it was for the best. They had tried again later and it had worked for a few months before Harry got bored. Not of Niall he said, even if Niall wasn't sure if it was the truth. Harry said he needed to see the world. To really see it, to have time to visit foreign countries and to stay there for more than a few hours. Niall respected Harry's choice. He cried for weeks after, he's not gonna lie but he loved Harry and he hoped that if he let him go one day he would come back.

Now three years later Niall sometimes hoped he had insisted a bit more for Harry to stay but deep down Niall knew he would have lost Harry for good if he had done that. Now Harry was in and out of his life every few months. Niall still hoped one day Harry would tell him he was ready.

Niall undressed quickly, throwing his pants in the laundry basket and walked to the bathroom. Just as he turned on the water Niall heard a noise downstairs. It was probably only Tara, she had been out for most of the morning. 

After his shower Niall wrapped a towel around his waist,p and walked briskly to his bedroom. He needed to get dressed and be out the door in a few minutes if he didn't want to be late. It was all Harry's fault, he decided. 

Niall let out a scream when he noticed someone sitting on his bed. Harry. Harry was sitting on his bed. Niall held a hand over his heart until it slowed down to a normal beat.

"What are you doing here? Did Tara let you in?"

"No, I still have the code to the front gate and a key. I don't think Tara is here, haven't seen her."

"So you decided to give me a heart attack?"

"No but you were ignoring my texts."

"Right. Good reason to break in I guess," said Niall. He shivered when he felt the air conditioning hit his damp skin and it reminded him of his state of undress. Harry smirked and Niall didn't miss the way Harry's eyes trailed over his body. 

"Why are you here Harry?"

"I told you, you were ignoring me."

"Because you were being an arse."

"Was I? I mean your friend his creepy."

Niall rolled his eyes again and ignored the jab Harry made at his friends again. 

"I miss you."

"For how long this time?" Niall asked. It was his time being an arse but at this moment he couldn't care less. 

"I'm serious Ni, I miss you. You have to have noticed I spend more time around here."

"You were in Canada, this isn't what I would call 'around here'."

"Randy and Cindy invited me to their summer house in Ontario, what was I supposed to do? Say no? You had golf events to attend, was I supposed to wait for you?" argued Harry and Niall couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I waited for you for years Harry," Niall shouted, "I was always waiting, hoping you would come back, but you never do."

"Niall," Harry sighed, "I didn't come here to fight with you." Harry extended his arm and took Niall's hands to pull him closer. Niall stopped between Harry's legs and Harry wrapped his arms around Niall's waist, his hands flat against the small of Niall's back. Harry's thumbs were drawing circles on Niall's skin. 

Niall should fight, he should get away from Harry, he couldn't let him manipulate him like that again but Harry was Niall's biggest weakness. Niall put his arms around Harry's shoulders and said nothing for a while. He was definitely late now.

"I miss you too," Niall said. He looked down and Harry was looking at him, a small smile on his lips. Niall leaned in and he kissed Harry softly.

"Don't make me regret this," Niall said.

"I promise."

Niall disentangled himself from Harry's embrace and reached for his phone. He texted Teddy that was probably waiting for him. Niall hoped she wouldn't be too mad at him. 

[One year later]

Niall was making breakfast when Harry walked in the kitchen, he was back from his yoga class. Niall smiled when he saw him. Harry had kept his promises and Niall regretted nothing. It took time but he had been patient and now Harry was back in his life for good he could feel it. Harry was not going anywhere.

Harry plastered himself against Niall's back and kissed his neck.

"Hi babe."

"Hi pet."

Harry put his hands on Niall's hips and spun him around so they were face to face. Before Niall knew what was happening Harry dropped to one knee and held a little black velvet box.

"Niall, it took us forever to find each other again but I love you more than anything, will you marry me?"

Niall's eyes filled with tears as he nodded enthusiastically. 

[canadiankazz]

The Sixth Time - An L.A. by Night Fanfic

Seeing as how his sanctum is currently off-limits, Annabelle invites Jasper over to her place. He gets a little bold during feeding again and they talk about the Blood Bond.

L.A. By Night Alternative Universe where Jasper has been feeding from Annabelle for several weeks/months and they have developed a Blood Bond. SPOILERS for the end of Campaign 1 including the one-shots. This was written before Season 2, Episode 4.

It’s worth reading the rest of the series before this part.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

I lay no claim to owning any of the characters involved. 

As always, special thanks to @cravatfiend for the support, feedback and encouragement during the writing of the drafts. Special love to @gokaiyellow for their additional input and for being as patient as they can, and to @fluffy-wookiees  because it was our conversation about Blood Bonds that inspired the main chunk of this fic. Thank you to everyone else who has enjoyed this series so far. 

Also posted to the author’s Ao3.

First published Feb. 11, 2019.

The Sixth Time Jasper Fed From Annabelle

Jasper was trying to read in bed, but he was having difficulty concentrating. He could hear his newest prisoner from the Ivory Tower ranting and raving from all the way across his sanctum. In the month previous, Baron Abrams had secretly managed to acquire Nelli's sire, Chaz Price. Chaz had then been placed in Jasper's possession for safekeeping until the Barons and the Prince and whoever else in charge of Kindred politics in California worked out their political arguments.

Chaz was currently calling Jasper every insult under the sun and moon, but Jasper was doing his best to ignore it. This had been going on more or less since he had woken Chaz up from his staked Torpor in his cage. He had heard it all before, from Tara, and from others. It was better to let Chaz get it all out of his system now. Jasper didn't know how long he was to keep him here. It had already been weeks. It could be months, it could be years. Jasper hoped it wouldn’t be decades.

Jasper put down his book, which was about famous ghosts from around Hollywood, and sighed. It wasn't Chaz's insults that were distracting him, not really. It was an odd feeling of loneliness. Before Chaz, his sanctum had been relatively quiet, save for the times when Annabelle had come over. Jasper reached down off the side of the bed furthest from the door and found the small plastic tea light candle he had hidden down there, out of sight behind one of the bed legs. He brought it up and flicked the little switch on the bottom to turn on the fake flame. It flickered dimly. The button battery that powered it was slowly dying.

He missed her, he realised. On a night like this, he might have called her to come over and hang out. They might have watched a movie. She might let him feed off her. He licked his fangs at the memories he had of biting into her flesh, of tasting her powerful Brujah Vitae, and of the sounds she made as the endorphins brought on by the Kiss clouded her brain and made her body react in rather interesting ways.

His phone buzzed with a text message. He looked at the screen. It was Annabelle, texting him privately, away from the group coterie chat. He smiled. She had been thinking of him too. Was it her emotions he was feeling, mixed with his own? Their Blood Bond had faded somewhat since their last encounter many weeks ago, but if Jasper concentrated, he could feel where Annabelle was in the city, and was sure that if she were in any great danger or emotional state, he would know about it.

“I had a dream about you yesterday,” Annabelle's message read.

Jasper dreamed about her all the time, but he hadn't ever told her about it. He wasn't surprised she had been dreaming about him too.

“What happened in it?” He inquired.

“You were feeding from me.”

Jasper smirked. He could envision Annabelle blushing while she was typing that.

“Where?” he asked, both meaning where on her body, and also a location for them both to be in. He had only ever fed from her in his sanctum, but with Chaz here under his secret lock and key, Annabelle wasn't allowed back in.

“Everywhere,” was Annabelle's reply. Jasper chuckled.

“Did you have a favourite place?” he asked. He wasn't usually this much of a texter, but he didn't want Chaz to hear him making any calls.

“Neck.” Again, Jasper could picture Annabelle blushing.

“Mine too,” he replied truthfully. He sighed a little to himself. His hunger was under control at the moment, thanks to the elder Toreador still cursing him out in his cage, but feeding from his prisoner and feeding from Annabelle were two totally different things. Annabelle wanted him to bite her. She enjoyed it almost as much as he did. Sometimes, he thought she enjoyed it more than him, especially when she used Blush of Life while he bit her. He hesitated a very long moment, before texting her again. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He blinked at her reply, not sure how to respond.

Annabelle didn't send him another message for a long time. He briefly thought that she might be done for the night, but he was wrong.

“Elle is going out of town this weekend to visit her parents,” Annabelle told him. “And Mark is still away.”

He waited without replying. Annabelle was typing another message, erasing it, and re-wording it. He knew what she was going to ask him, and was about to pre-emptively inquire about it when her message finally got through.

“Would you like to come over on Saturday?”

He did. He very much wanted to spend the weekend with her, at her place. They hadn't seen a lot of each other in a long time. He had also never been inside her house, and had to admit he was curious.

Still, there was something inside him that made him hesitate in his reply. It wasn't Chaz. Chaz could sit a few days on his own, and Jasper would make sure he fed him before he left.

No, it was something else, something more intimate. Jasper knew that if he did go, the weekend was likely to turn into another feeding date, and likely an extended one at that. He doubted either of them would be able to help themselves, strong though their willpower was. If Annabelle did let him bite her again, their Blood Bond would redevelop and strengthen. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it still made him a little nervous. There was ever growing tension between the Anarchs and the Camarilla these nights, and if, somehow, the Camarilla worked out that Jasper was holding Chaz captive, they could use Annabelle to get to him. He had already promised himself that any Kindred who hurt Annabelle would not last the night if Jasper were able to get to them. He also knew that Annabelle could definitely handle herself in a fight. But she was also still a Neonite, having been Kindred for less than a year, and the Camarilla was home to many very powerful vampires who could take her apart quite easily if they wanted to.

Jasper's phone buzzed again. Annabelle had sent him a single question mark, waiting for his reply.

It was dangerous, and he knew he shouldn’t, but damn it... he wanted to. He had already admitted that he missed her. It was already too late to deny his growing feelings, beyond just the bond with her blood.

“Yes, I would,” he texted her. “What time?”

He could picture her smiling, her pretty face lit up both with the light from her phone, and the joy and anticipation she got from his reply.

“11:00 Sat.” she replied.

“See you then,” Jasper promised.

Annabelle sent him a smiley face. He didn't return it, but he smiled physically.

**

Saturday night came and Jasper arrived completely unseen to Annabelle's door. He had taken every precaution he could think of to secure his haven and the prisoner inside it. He wanted to enjoy this weekend without having to worry, though it would always be on the back of his mind. He found that he wasn't as nervous about visiting Annabelle at her home as he thought he might be. His Beast was getting excited though. He could feel it in his chest and throat. He growled at it, closing his eyes and counting to ten. He hadn't lost control with Annabelle on one of their dates yet, and he wasn't about to.

He knocked, letting himself become visible as he interacted with the door. He pulled his hood down lower over his face, just in case someone from another house was watching. He didn't have long to wait. Annabelle flung the door open and greeted him happily.

“Jasper, hey!”

He smiled at her. “Hi.”

“Come in.” She beckoned him into the warm interior of the home and he stepped over the threshold. She closed the door behind them. He instantly found himself glancing around, taking in the space.

Annabelle led him through to a tiny living room. There was one bookshelf full of books, one full of DVDs and Blu-Rays and another full of CD's. Jasper found himself drawn to them. He tilted his head to read the covers and cases.

Annabelle watched him with a little amused smile. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know... “ he shrugged. “Same as ever.”

She gave him a flat look. “Don't be mysterious with me, Jasper.”

He gave her a little half smile. “I've been pretty good.”

“Yeah? Me too.”

There was something unsaid between them. It was easier, sometimes, to say things like “I've missed you” over text rather than out loud.

Jasper sat on a sofa. It was second hand, inexpensive student furniture, but he felt at home with that. In fact, a lot of Annabelle's place reminded him of his own, except she had a lot more stuff. Photos of Annabelle, Mark and Elleanore together, knick-knacks, Anime figures, even the odd stuffed animal were everywhere. The room was neat and cluttered at the same time. There was a framed Les Miserables poster on the wall that made him smile. There was also a lot of vampire media, mostly shoved into one corner. Books and DVDs and Blu-Rays about Dracula, Underworld, Anne Rice, and more. He shook his head a little when he saw that.

“How's your new... guest?” Annabelle asked.

“A pain in the ass,” Jasper said. “I was glad you invited me over.”

“You know... I still don't approve of all that,” she said with a frown.

“Yeah... I know, but when you change the world, I won't keep anyone in a cage ever again.”

Annabelle's jaw tightened a little and she searched his face for any sign he was making fun of her. She couldn’t see any. “Right. Well...” she sighed. “Would you like to finish watching Hellsing?”

They had left off part way through the second to last episode. Jasper grinned. “Yes, please.”

They sat next to each other on the sofa as they watched the OVA on Annabelle's small flat screen TV. Gradually, so gradually neither of them were aware of it, they got closer and closer to each other. Soon, they were touching hands, then a hand was on a knee. By the end of it, they were leaning against each other and neither of them minded. The epic religious choir music that played over the final end credits made Jasper smile. Annabelle noticed.

“What's that look for?” she asked him

“This music is awesome.”

“It is pretty cool,” she agreed. “This is your thing?”

“Oh yeah. It reminds me of O, Fortuna.”

Annabelle giggled. “You're such a dramatic goth.”

Jasper snorted and shrugged. “Well...”

“Don't you deny it!”

“I wasn't going to!” he said defensibly, but with a smile.

A quiet settled between them. Annabelle bit her lip and touched his hand. “Would you like a tour?”

“Sure,” Jasper said.

Annabelle got up and showed Jasper around. It didn't take long in the small house. Living room, kitchen, bath, laundry, bedrooms. The room Annabelle slept in felt so very much like her that Jasper couldn’t help but smile. Anime, band posters and little love notes from her partners decorated the walls. There were some clothes stacked on a chair by a desk covered in textbooks and old protest fliers. Her window had a large, thick blanket covering it, duck-taped securely to the wall with multiple layers. Jasper eyed this critically. Annabelle followed his gaze.

“Oh, that's very secure, don't worry,” she assured him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, it hasn't fallen down yet. Just don't pull on it too hard.”

Jasper scowled, not reassured. He didn't feel like he should have to tell Annabelle how dangerous something like that could be.

“Jasper, it's okay,” Annabelle said again. “The blind is down on the other side. The blanket's just for extra security. Besides... I'm still here, aren't I?”

He licked his fangs, thinking this over. Annabelle swallowed.

“Okay,” he relented reluctantly.

“Um... besides, look at this!” Annabelle stepped towards her bed, which was quite a lot wider than Jasper's. “Look at how big my bed is,” she teased, waving her hands like a girl on The Price is Right. “It can fit two, sometimes three people in it!”

Jasper snickered. “Very impressive,” he admitted.

Annabelle sat on the bed, playfully bouncing a few times. Her smile was infectious. “I almost can't believe you're here,” she told him. “I almost can't picture you in a home like this.”

He shrugged and sat on the bed next to her. “Well... I was, sort of. A long time ago.” He sighed and looked around again, remembering.

Annabelle's smile faded. She hadn't meant to dig up sad, old memories of the life he had to leave behind, but she didn't. “Jasper, I'm sorry.”

His brow furrowed a little and he looked at her, his thoughts snapped out of whatever he had been remembering. “Why?”

“I feel sometimes like... maybe I'm a little insensitive to that fact that... I still kind of have my old life, a bit, and you don't. And I'm sorry. I don't mean to be insensitive.”

“It's okay,” he said quietly. “I know you don't mean to, but sometimes it is a little like... you know... check your privilege.” He smirked a little.

She smirked a little too.

He wanted to change the subject and, feeling bold, took her hand in his. “So... what else did you have planned for this weekend?” Jasper turned her hand over palm-up and ran a faint line over her wrist with his cold, pale thumb. He had bitten her there before and he was deliberately trying to remind her of that. It worked. He felt her shiver, just a tiny bit, and she swallowed again.

“Um... well...” her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “I did think that we could... feed, if you wanted to.”

“I've missed someone giving me permission,” he admitted to her. “It makes me feel a little less horrible, sometimes.”

“Oh, Jasper...” Annabelle bit her lower lip, her heat breaking a little. “I don't think you're horrible.”

“I am a little though.” He knew there was no denying that, but he wasn't particularly sad about it. It was a fact.

“Well... not here, you're not,” Annabelle insisted. “Here, you have permission.”

He showed his fangs when he smiled. “Thank you.” He stroked her wrist again. He couldn’t feel her pulse, not yet, but he imagined it might be getting a little faster if it could.

“It's been a while,” Jasper said after a moment of silence. “Where would you... like me to begin?”

Again, Annabelle smiled like she would have turned scarlet. “Wherever you want,” she said quietly. He voice was a little breathy. Already, her body was reminding her of the experience to come. The bite – the Kiss – was a taboo pleasure that she couldn’t achieve with her boyfriend and girlfriend, although she had tried. Of course, sex with them was good. It always had been. But this... whatever she and Jasper had was something different, something more... well, the only thing Annabelle could think to describe it was vampiric. It felt wrong but oh, so very good at the same time.

For Jasper, it was the most intimate he had allowed himself to be with someone in five years. He did not count his other feedings from Kindred as being anything like this. With them, it had been a necessary thing, or so he told himself. Though he enjoyed the taste of terror and he enjoyed toying with Camarilla assholes, being with Annabelle and being willingly offered her blood was something he found himself enjoying far more.

“Neck?” Jasper asked.

Annabelle's free hand went to the collar of her T-shirt, which was much higher than that of the tank tops she had worn previously when he had bitten her throat. “I'll get blood on my shirt,” she mumbled.

“If you don't want blood on your shirt, take it off,” Jasper told her, surprising himself with the bold words. He was mildly surprised again when she did what he requested. He thought she might have said no, but she didn't. The shirt hit the bedroom floor. She wasn't wearing the lacy bra he had seen before, but he liked the way this one went with her skin tone. He found himself staring and looked away. He heard Annabelle chuckle.

“It's okay,” she said. She sounded nervous, but excited. “Are you okay?”

He looked at her again and swallowed. Was this not everything he wanted? He had repressed that side of him long ago due to the Nosferatu curse, but Annabelle was bringing it out in him again. She didn't care that he was a Nosferatu. She was happy to be with him. Jasper nodded. “It's just been a while,” he mumbled.

She scooted away, back onto the bed and gave him an inviting look. “It'll come back to you.”

He followed her up the bed and lay next to her. The extra space was nice, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“You know...” he said, with a pause to touch his tongue to his fangs, “If someone had told me four or five years ago that this is where I would end up one day, I would have thought someone was playing a cruel joke on me.”

Annabelle smiled at him. “Lucky you then, I guess.”

Jasper chuckled. “Yeah.” He hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder, trailing his fingers up to her neck and Annabelle leaned into his touch. This made him feel bolder. It reminded him that he was wanted. His hand lingered over her pulse point and he blinked in amazement when he felt her activate Blush of Life. Like magic, her skin warmed and he could feel the quick but steady pulse in her neck. Annabelle sighed and fidgeted a little. His hand was deathly cold.

Jasper thought he should say something, but nothing was imminently coming to mind. He shifted, leaning over her a little. His fangs itched and his Beast growled. Her warm, inviting skin and the delicious Vitae under it were temptingly close. When he did open his mouth to speak, his voice was a snarl.

“May I?”

Annabelle shivered at the growl. Her skin erupted into goosebumps. Already, she was turned on. Her body remembered the pleasure he had brought her in the past. “Yes,” Annabelle breathed.

Slowly, as if to drag out every moment, Jasper slid his long, sharp fangs into her flesh. Again, he had gone for the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Annabelle let out a gasp and a whimper at the pain of it. Her body tensed and she found herself gripping a pillow. She could feel Jasper's tongue on her skin. He shifted again a little and she felt him place a hand on her opposite shoulder to the one he was biting and slowly trail it downwards over her body right as the ecstasy hit her.

Annabelle let out a long, soft moan of arousal as the pleasure slowly crawled across her body. Jasper's hand trailed down over her bra, over her breast, and settled on her ribs. He could taste the lust in her blood. He only wanted to take a little bit at the moment, just a sample. They had all weekend, after all. Annabelle trembled and squirmed beneath him. Her grip on the pillow tightened. She was biting back another moan or cry of pleasure. His Beast was almost purring inside him, listening to her heavy breathing and tasting her desire. It wanted more, it always wanted more, but Jasper had to hold back.

Annabelle sighed as he lifted his fangs away from her. She hadn't quite reached the climax her body had been heading towards, but she was shaking with the anticipation of it. She was about to say something, but she felt Jasper's cold tongue dip south of her collarbone and lick up a warm drop of Vitae that had begun to run slowly downwards. His hand found hers that had been clutching the pillow and, without saying anything, he brought it down to her crotch. She was wearing jeans, and she was aware of how restrictive they were currently feeling. Jasper pressed Annabelle's hand to the oh-so-sensitive area that was begging to be touched between her legs and give her neck wound another little suck.

Annabelle's body bucked with that blessed, cursed release she had been seeking. He kept her hand pressed to her jeans and his mouth on her neck to catch any more drips and to keep her climax going as long as it could. He could feel her fingers moving involuntarily against herself, trapped under his own. The scream Annabelle had been fighting back escaped through her clenched teeth.

Jasper tenderly licked her wound closed and drew back from her a little bit, including pulling his hand away from hers. Annabelle's body curled into a slight foetal position as she trembled in the aftershocks. He could her her cursing to herself under her breath. Jasper stroked her arm, smiling to himself. That had been a spur of the moment idea, but he liked the results.

Annabelle's face was bright red when she looked at him. He tried and failed to look innocent.

“What?” he asked.

Annabelle clenched her jaw, but smiled at him. “You... that...”

“Yes?”

She playfully punched his chest. He fell back onto the bed in mock pain. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. She snuggled up to him and he put an arm around her near naked torso.

“I still don't know what that was for,” he chided.

“Yeah, you do.” Her pulse was still slightly fast. Her hips squirmed a little.

“How are you feeling?” He knew the answer, but wanted her to say it.

“Good,” Annabelle sighed in contentment. “You have a way of making me feel so good...”

He stroked her shoulder in little circles. His white fingers contrasted dramatically with her skin tone. “Not too hungry?”

“I'm alright.”

“Good.”

“That... thing you were talking about a while ago...” Annabelle said, “where you feel my emotions... that's still a thing, right?”

“Yeah, that's still a thing,” he said softly, still stroking her shoulder. He could feel them now, the bond newly refreshed after having faded somewhat the past several weeks.

“What am I feeling now?”

“Happy,” Jasper smirked. “And you're still a little surprised at yourself because you never thought that this would happen.” He gestured to the two of them, snuggling on Annabelle's bed. “I feel the same way.”

He heard Annabelle exhale as she smiled. Her body was so warm against his. Part of him loved it. Another part of him was reminded how repulsive his body must be in comparison to hers. He tried to ignore that.

“Is there a name for that... feeling emotions thing?” Annabelle asked.

“I think it's a Blood Bond.” Jasper replied.

“Oh... that sounds kind of nice.”

“Mmm... but it isn't always.”

She tilted her face to give him a curious look.

Jasper considered for a few seconds how to explain it. “You know about ghouls?”

She frowned but nodded. “Yeah...”

“What are they?” He knew, but was testing her.

“They're people who have drunk vampire blood and become slaves. It sounds awful,” Annabelle said.

“It can be, but it can be useful for the vampire, especially if they have few morals about ordering people around and removing their free will. So... if that's what happens when a human drinks vampire blood, what do you think happens if another Kindred does it, beyond the feeling emotions thing?”

“Do... they become a slave as well?” Annabelle asked, mild horror creeping into her voice and in her expression.

“That can happen,” Jasper said gently, honestly. He sighed. “You giving your blood to me... gives you power over me, potentially, especially because we've done it so often, and because we've almost always done it right from the source, as it were.”

“So... I could give you an order right now... and you'd have to obey it?” Annabelle looked slightly terrified.

Jasper nodded.

“Oh, my God...” Annabelle said slowly. She hugged him a little tighter. “I would never, ever do that to you.”

“I know,” he said softly.

“Ever,” Annabelle insisted. The idea of taking away his free will chilled her.

“I know,” he repeated. “I trust you, Annabelle. You're one of the very few Kindred whom I trust, because I know that you'd never make me do anything against my will...” He sighed again. “Unlike some others I could mention,” he growled to himself.

“What? When? Who?”

“Do you recall me doing anything that seemed a little wild and out of character several months ago? Maybe something a little wacky in front of a big crowd?” Jasper sounded annoyed at the memory.

Annabelle gasped as it hit her. “The Succubus Club?”

Jasper growled and nodded.

“The dancing?”

“That was Victoria Ashe,” he said, his voice several degrees rougher in anger. “She made me do that.”

“But... you looked...”

“Like I was enjoying it? Yeah, because at the time, I was. I was lucky that she didn't order me to do something really horrific. If she had told me to try to kill you, I probably would have.”

Annabelle tensed in anger. “That... woman!” She had her own growl now. “And Nelli was all buddy-buddy with her!”

“Toreadors are like that. They have a certain way of making people love them, and want to do what they ask. It's like when Victor orders people to forget things, and they do. It's how they operate. Don't be mad at Nelli... or do, I don't care.”

“I'm sorry I laughed at you, and applauded,” Annabelle said, remembering her reactions to seeing him moonwalk on that dance floor.

“It's okay.”

“Is that a Blood Bond? Did she...” Annabelle didn't want to finish the question.

“No,” Jasper assured her, and he sounded grateful. “No, she didn't give me her blood.” He stroked her arm and her side, trying to soothe her a little. He could tell she was getting riled up, that her inner rebel wanting to put the boot into the rich elite was emerging. There was a time and a place for that, which was not here and now.

“I'd stake her so hard if I could,” Annabelle mumbled into Jasper's lean chest. He smiled.

“You do that, Annabelle. If you ever see her again, you do that.”

“Damn right, I will.”

They were quiet for a few moments, with Jasper gently stroking her smooth skin. She was still warm. It could last a long while, if she wanted it to. “You know... going back to the Blood Bond thing...” Jasper said quietly. “The way you and I have been doing it, letting me bite you... it would be very frowned upon by most Kindred society.” He grinned. “We've been very naughty, you and I.”

Annabelle snorted. She didn't have a very high opinion of what most Kindred society thought. “You mean they don't do it like this?”

“No. Going right from the vein is a little taboo.” He drifted a hand up to her neck and she wriggled a little.

“How do they do it then?”

“Cutting, apparently. Dripping blood into mouths, that kind of thing.” Annabelle could feel him shrug a little.

“Like at the end of Hellsing?”

“Yeah.”

Annabelle's brow furrowed. She found herself playing with a buckle on his chest. She didn't know where he had found hoodies with buckles. “How do you know that?”

“I asked Eva.”

Annabelle's frown deepened. “Did you tell her about us?”

“No. I just asked her about the details of how Blood Bonding works. If she suspects anything, it's because... well, the Tremere have many mysterious ways of finding things out.” He caught himself smiling at that. He had a certain admiration for the Tremere.

Annabelle relaxed a little. She didn't mind Eva, despite any magic she had done on her in the past. She was mysterious, but seemed to be in Jasper's favour. “Oh. Okay.”

They were quiet again, comfortably cuddling. Everything Jasper had just told Annabelle about Blood Bonds was turning around and around in her mind. It gave her a degree of anxiety, but she believed the fact that Jasper trusted her so sincerely was an honour.

“Jasper?” She asked softly.

“Yes?”

“Do you... mind being Blood Bonded to me?”

He gave her a comforting little squeeze. “No.”

“Are you sure? That's not just my magic Vitae talking, is it?”

Jasper chuckled. “Yes, I'm sure. If I did mind... we wouldn't have had another date after that time when I was hit by a truck.”

“Oh.” She remembered the evening he was referencing well. She had been so very worried about him when she found out, and that worry had turned into terror when he didn't answer her calls or texts. Despite his efforts of healing, he had still been extremely badly hurt when she finally found him, and Annabelle was happy she found him when she did. The potential consequences of what could have happened if she hadn't were too scary to consider. She also wished she had been there to have prevented the incidence from happening in the first place. That night was the first time she had let Jasper feed from her neck. Every other time before that had been from her wrist. It was a big move, she knew, but she wanted it. It felt better to her, somehow. They had shared his bed for the first time afterwards. “Was that when the... Bond happened?”

“I think so, yeah,” Jasper said.

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” Jasper sighed.

“But it doesn't have to be a bad thing?” Annabelle confirmed. “The Blood Bond?”

Jasper shook his head. “No, it doesn't. Don't worry about me if I mind it or not. If I ever do want to... I can just keep away from you for a little while and that'll weaken it.”

“Oh, that's why I haven't seen you in a long time!”

“Yeah. That and... ya know... my guest.” Jasper smiled sharply.

“Uh-huh.”

“But there is a silver lining, of sorts,” Jasper explained. “If you are in trouble, and need me, I will feel it. You can summon me, wish I was there, and I'll feel it and come to you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Now... you can see how another Kindred might abuse that power...” he paused to let Annabelle picture it, “but I trust you to not abuse it.” He gave the top of her head a little nuzzle.

“Right. I get it.” She smiled. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Jasper.”

“Thank you for letting me feed from you,” he replied.

“You're welcome.”

They spent the rest of the night chatting and watching bad reality TV on Annabelle's computer. When the sun rose and they felt the need to retire, they fell asleep spooning on Annabelle's large bed. The city of Los Angeles moved on around them, but they were content and dead to the world.