#also hey it’s been like almost ten years since i posted any fanfic at all

[sleepy-steve]

cirajay on ao3 • lesbian • gadigal land, always was, always will be

corporate girlie by day • pole dancer by night • writer where i can fit it in between

minors dni • some nsfw present • SWerfs, terfs, and zionists fuck off

header by stervrucht • icon by manic-eddie

♡ tags for my writing below ♡

🦇 eddie munson big bang (batgate) // snippets

🏴 undead x ferryman // pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

💔 steddie angsty august fic // day 8, day 9, day 10

✨ secret project with @stervrucht // snippets

⛓️ (pray) ‘til i go blind // ao3 // 4k // M // modern au, metal burlesque performer eddie, audience participant steve

☁️ why are you never real? // ao3 // 6k // E // cw: mild suicidal ideation, prompt: ghosts, post-s4, dream haunting

🖤 please, please, please // ao3 // 2k // M // eddie is obsessed with steve, yearning and pining, introspective

🩹 trust // ao3 // 2.5k // T // hate crime, wound care, eddie whump, protective steve, first kiss

💫 north star // ao3 // 2k // G // eddie in WITSEC, phone calls, mutual pining, angst w happy ending

—

i use my likes for bookmarks + stuff to remember for later, so if i liked and didn’t rb, that’s why :~)

prev url: kenm-akozume (this used to be a haikyuu!! blog)

[seiya234]

happy tauniversary

this post is kind of late, because i was out with my kid all day at the corn maze.

a lot has changed since we started TAU

ten years ago I had been in maryland all of two months. my then-fiancee and i had moved from texas, where we both had lived our entire lives. i was not only planning our wedding (in texas!) but i was also starting my ph.d.

to say that i had a lot going on would be a huge understatement.

i had just gotten into gravity falls via tumblr- shout out to whoever made a gif set from 'the hand that rocks the mabel'- when i ran across zoey's original two to three posts. to this day i couldn't entirely tell you why my brain seized on this au, other than it did and it immediately went into hyperfocus mode.

before TAU, i hadn't really written any fanfic except for some discworld au and some drabbles here and there. but a post about future niblings really inspired me and before i knew it i was writing.

i started messaging @zillychu a LOT and god bless their heart they humored me and answered back. after about a month of accumulated posts they created the blog and began to mod it with @homebeccer and @ghostfiish . There was a brief period where @zillychu was thinking about stepping back from the blog and because i was an extremely over eager beaver, i practically kicked down the door of their inbox and begged to be a mod.

the rest, as they say, is history.

i had absolutely zero idea that this would last ten years. when i joined, i had no idea that we'd have a skype channel and then two (two!) discords, that there would be a wiki, that there would be fanvids and tiktoks and cosplay and of course the literal terabytes of fic and art.

to this day, it still thrills me to no end that y'all make art and fic of my OCs. never in my wildest dreams as a tiny baby weeb would i have ever thought that THAT would be a possibility.

a lot has changed for me in these ten years. i got married. i recently got divorced. i had a baby, and now that baby is a big girl and in kindergarten. it took dont-ask-how-long but i finally got the ph.d and now shamelessly introduce myself as Dr. Seiya everywhere i go.

and i made friends. @haberdashing and @avafalls from our early days (hey habby and avagator!) @skia-oura sent me a beautiful baby kimono from their home in Japan and I still have the beautiful log and flower arrangement @oreramar made me one christmas. (the hot chocolate is long gone lol) i've enjoyed so very deeply getting to know @toothpastecanyon, @feferipeixes and @avespecora (sorry i missed the eclipse!) i almost got detained at the canadian border for @marypsue (spoiler alert, don't tell canadian immigration you're staying with a friend from the internet but you don't know their home address)

the blog almost got deleted. we've had mods come and go as life happens and moves on. the blog is old enough i've been able to see trends happen, and characters become popular, fade away... then coming roaring back again. i've personally told the mods two times that i was stepping back from the blog For Real For Real (for real this time) because life was catching up to me and I just wasn't as in to it as I used to be only to come slinking back like the dirty liar I am. i see in your notes all the time that you all have been reading this since you were tweenagers which ngl does make me feel the cold breath of the grave on my mid-thirties back but also warms my heart.

@transcendence-au changed my life, and for the better.

thank you @zillychu for making a random one off hc post that exploded into something i don't think you could have ever predicted.

and thank you all (yes, you. you in the back. i like your shirt.) for your support and your love.

[earlgreyhui]

hi! i just want to let you know that your writings inspire me to scribble down some of my thoughts, even though I'm not much of a writer myself... i like how it's written in a sense that the words bring so much color and depth to life!! i have been meaning to ask if you have any advice for someone like me who would like to try writing...do you have any recommended books about writing? thank you so much for reading, and i hope you are having a nice day! 💌

hey! thank you so much for your message, i'm so excited for you to write!!!

when it comes to writing, i'm an amateur myself, so i can only tell you about my personal experience. i'll tell you about my starting point, which is probably the same as pretty much everyone here. basically, it's this: if you like reading, you will be able to write. i read a lot of novels, i also used to read an equal if not greater amount of fanfiction, and for around ten years i wrote short and unoriginal things (almost 100% fanfic lol) that went nowhere, all under a thousand words, with very few exceptions.

so, writing at the earliest stage should be light and without pressure. be as cringe as you want. there's no secret to writing, and there is zero prerequisite knowledge aside from a basic communication ability in the language. by basic, i mean if you can carry on a conversation, you're fine. i don't believe in formulae or classes. i believe in tackling it in the most personal way you can. even now, unlike other skills like drawing and playing a musical instrument, i don't know about any basic skills or advanced techniques for writing, i just know about what i've seen before.

but if you wanted something implementable, not this wishy washy 'anyone can do it' stuff, the thing that i put into practice right now is that i read as much as possible and highlight passages that stand out to me. then read it slowly, read it out loud, pick it apart to the word level, keep what you need. it's a practice that only really has meaning once you can relate it to other writers' work, and remember it when you want to draw on a similar feeling. reading is like refuelling! art doesn't exist in a vacuum. you almost always need other people's ideas to stimulate your own. all together, human art is a fabulously elaborate network of interactions, a chain of responses that the people responded to may never see, which is surprising and moving. but don't get stuck doing this, always reading and preparing. please write at least one sentence ASAP. this is a psa to myself as well...

finally, books about writing. i've only read one, which i wouldn't necessarily recommend since it didn't do much for me, but it was Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. i shouldn't rec stuff i haven't personally read but you could try The Writing Life by Annie Dillard. it's a set of essays about writing which are beautifully done, of course, Annie Dillard is a maestro, though i can't speak to how helpful the essays might or might not actually be. Ursula K. Le Guin also has one or two books on writing—a very famous speculative/science fiction writer whom i am ashamed to admit i have not read... if anyone else has recommendations re: books about writing feel free to leave them under the post.

best of luck anon! if you ever feel comfortable, it would be my honour to read a piece of your writing, however near or far in the future :)

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

It Would Be

Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: T

Word count: 1332

Tags: angst, jealousy, fighting, pining, yearning, no use of Y/N, oneshot

Summary (aka prompt I gave myself): ‘It would be easier if you just married him.’

Note: Hello! I’m fairly new to Tumblr-verse and I’ve been so inspired by the many amazing writers and fics in all of the Pedro character fandoms. I haven’t written let alone published any fanfic in over 3 years and this is my first post here so please be gentle with me 🧡

This prompt was basically a random angsty line that I thought of and this pretty much wrote itself. My plan is to write a series of short ones based on this prompt for other Pedro boys. Enjoy!

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Don’t Be >> }

‘It would be easier if you just married him.’

It comes out flat. Almost bored. But he can’t hide the stiffness in his shoulders as his fists clench at his sides.

Your eyes narrow dangerously and you all but spit at him, ‘Oh, anything to make your life easier, Din.’

He jolts like something in his complicated armour short circuits when you say his name. His real name. The one he told you years ago - ten years ago - when your pa had passed on and left you an orphan.

I’m an orphan too, he had confided in you, almost in solidarity.

You know what he had told you was done in confidence. No one else on your planet knows his real name, or anything about him. To be fair, you don’t know much either, but what you do, you hold it close to your chest, the knowledge keeping you warm in the long months when he is away.

Until he comes back. He always comes back.

He comes back one year with the Razor Crest, and it takes him several more to restore her to her former glory. You help him polish the smooth metal and hold the light for him when he tries to make sense of the messy innards of the grand old dame.

He comes back another year with a vambrace that spews fire, then an Imperial era blaster, then a vibroblade (it had made you jump when he turned it on), then an Amban rifle - his arsenal grows every time you see him. You tease him that he must be making up for something.

He takes your teasing in stride, but he always answers, ‘I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.’

Only in the deepest, darkest hours of the night and in the privacy of your own bed would you admit what that innocuous declaration does to you.

Every year he comes back, you fall a little deeper, and at the same time, the hope chips away bit by bit with how little he has given away.

Until this year.

You tell him that the local innkeeper’s son has asked you to marry him.

You tell Din as a joke since it is a laughably absurd notion. Yes, you know Tommy has had a crush on you since you were kids, he’s easy on the eyes with his strong build and blond hair, he’s also a kind man. You know you could do a lot worse.

But you would never. And Tommy is definitely joking. You are almost completely certain.

Din doesn’t say anything when you tell him, chuckling to yourself as you help him sort through a small pile of spare parts he has brought back from the market.

You are slightly put off that he doesn’t deign to join in your mirth, but you don’t give much thought to it for the rest of the day.

In fact, you forget about it until someone calls you by your name while you are walking to the market the week after, Din by your side.

‘Tommy,’ you reply with a grin, stopping to give him a peck on his stubbled cheek.

He winks at you, leaning his broad frame across the threshold to the inn. ‘Where are you headed, my future wife?’

You indulge him with a coy smile. ‘Just helping Mando with a supplies run.’

Tommy crosses his arms across his chest and says in good humour, ‘Hey Mando, keep your hands off my woman, okay?’

Din barely acknowledges him with a grunt before marching straight by.

Tommy chortles, white teeth flashing, at the back of the retreating Mandalorian. ‘Grumpy one, isn’t he?’

Din is quiet regardless of the mood he is in, so the wordlessness is not out of the ordinary. But the longer the day grinds on, the shorter his temper gets.

By sundown, he has snapped at you more than once about you not listening to his instructions on how to configure the spare control panel he had picked up at the market after you caught up with him.

You snap right back that if you’re doing such a shoddy job, there are plenty of droids for hire that can do so much better than you.

That shuts him up.

But you simmer in your annoyance, unwilling to let it go, and you can feel the tension brew silently between you two as dusk gives way to darkness, and the lights on board the Razor Crest flicker on.

You feel his eyes on you. You can’t see behind his helmet, of course, but you don’t need to. He’s stopped fiddling with the combustion booster that he’s been working on all afternoon and you feel the full weight of his gaze on you.

You snap.

‘What is it now? Am I holding the kriffing panel wrong? Am I bending it out of shape? I swear to the Maker if you have anything else to say about - ’

‘You should marry Tommy.’

A beat. Silence.

The shift in the air is bigger than a kriffing jump to hyperspace.

A weak and befuddled what? is all you can manage.

He stands up, booster sliding to the floor of the hold with a metallic clang. Hollow.

‘It would be easier if you just married him.’

You don’t actually know what you are saying to him in response. Your mind is not catching up with what is happening and your body is responding on pure instinct. Your lips are moving and your vocal box vibrates with words that you do not hear.

Whatever you say seems to strike a nerve as his whole body jerks. The light bounces off the beskar with his movement. As if you have bodily shoved him.

But you haven’t. There are at least five full steps between you.

You know this because that’s how many Din takes to walk straight up to you. You can see your reflection in the T of his visor.

‘Nothing - nothing about you has ever been easy.’

You recoil from that. A hot, white rage almost blinds you as you snarl at him.

‘It would be easier if you never came back,’ you lash out in an outright lie, hoping it sounds more convincing to his ears than it does to yours.

‘But you always do, don’t you,’ you taunt him, words dripping in bitterness.

He does not rise to your bait, unmoving as the heavy air around you. You begin to think you have gotten away with it before a gloved finger, orange-tipped, appears in your peripheral vision and ghosts down the side of your cheek.

You can’t help the shiver that runs straight down your spine, and Din notices. He always does. His stances seems to soften.

He rasps, ‘It would be easier if you meant that.’

Your eyes slip close as the finger continues trailing down your throat, bobbing as you swallow thickly, the leather warm and catching against your heated skin.

His other hand finds your hip and he draws you flush against him, the armour hard under your palms and his breath short, the low sounds from his modulator grazing the shell of your ear.

‘Do you really?’

He cocks his head to the side at your question.

‘Do you really want me to marry Tommy?’

He stills for a moment. Then, on an exhale, he admits, ‘No.’

No. One beautiful word. You fold that away with his name and the reverent way you have seen his bare, tan hands handle his weapons and all the precious little he has let you see these years you’ve known him.

You want to ask why. Push him for some clarity, reassurance. It would be easier if you knew.

But you don’t.

For now, in the belly of his ship, your fingers slipping under his cowl to seek out the skin of his strong jaw - uncharted territory - and his grasp tightening around your waist, this is easy enough.

———————————————————————

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Don’t Be >> }

[mah-gah-lee]

be stuck with you - owen patrick joyner x (reader)

Word Count: 2303

Request: YES, from that sweet @idontcare011​, hope you’ll like it ! 

Summary:  you were late and a random boy comes into the elevator at the last minute. By some incredible force of fate (or pretty crappy weather) you find yourself stuck with the young man in this narrow cabin.

Warnings: panic attack and i think it’s all

disclaimer: I don't know Owen personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Owen's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…I heard maybe he has one, so I don’t know but I don’t want to offend her).  All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ @lukeys-giggle​ 

---

Thanks God, the quarantine was over and everyone could travel again. However, this stupid virus was not completely gone. Since the health crisis, you have adopted new habits, such as taking the stairs instead of the elevator. But today, you were in a hurry, so you entered the cabin eagerly. The conference you were due to attend was starting in no less than twenty minutes, and your itinerary had said it would take you 15 to get to your planned location. But with the weather conditions creeping in out there, you were sure you would need a lot longer than advertised. The automatic door was closing when a hand stepped in the way. A young blond man appeared and slipped into the elevator. You grumbled at the action, making you fall a few more seconds behind.

 "Sorry" the boy said through his mask.

 But you didn't answer.

 You had almost ten floors to go down together. You looked in your bag for a while to make sure you had your recorder when you felt an uncontrolled jerk. Your body no longer held you in balance but you caught yourself on a side of the elevator as the young man accompanying you tended to stabilize you. The lights flashed for a while and then went out. Your eyes widened as your heart pounded.

 "oh no no no no no no no. Anything except that, please!" you said, frantically pressing a random button.

 “I think we stuck…”

  "Oh yeah, what makes you think that?" The fact that we weren't moving or that the lights went out? "

 The boy threw up his hands in defense, eyes wide with so much animosity.

 "Hey, I'm in the same situation. You don't have to be aggressive."

You groaned before leaning against one of the elevator walls, peering into the face of your elevator failure companion. He had blond hair; his tips reached the base of his neck. But his expressive blue eyes - seeming constantly anxious - reminded you of someone, but you didn't know who. You have pushed the alarm button to warn the staff that there was someone in the lift.

 “Sorry, it’s seems to be a bad day. I’m late and now I’m stuck in an elevator with a perfect stranger”

 “I’m Owen…Not a stranger anymore”

 “I’m y/n, but yes, you still are”

 Owen laughed at your outspokenness and you gave him a polite smile before you were silent for several minutes.

 After what seemed like forever - when it was only ten minutes - you looked at your phone. No networks. For no obvious reason, when everything seemed to be going well, your heart started to beat faster. The thought of being stuck here forever crossed your mind and ached in your chest. The boy in front of you seemed so calm, which made you even more anxious.

 "How the hell can you stay so calm"

 "Oh ... I'm dying inside, just trying to play it cool"

 You can help with giving him an amused smile, he had been so frank. But this little interaction did not bring you back down from your state. You were breathing harder and harder, your chest was heaving quickly, it was nearly out of control. Owen seemed to notice that and give you a concerned look.

 "Panic attack?"

 You nodded briskly and Owen approached you cautiously. You saw his hands move towards you and your gaze expressed fear but you were paralyzed to do anything.

 "I'm going to take that damn mask off you already."

 Gently, he grabbed the fabric mask and pulled a little on it to lower it, he reproduced the gesture with his own mask.

 "Look at me, just me. There's nothing around us. Take a deep breath. I'll count to 3 and then you'll breathe out. Okay?"

 you nodded and when he shook his to urge you to breathe you took a deep breath, like he told you to.

 "1..2..3"

 You sighed, keeping your gaze on him. You started once more and when the blonde asked you if it was better, you were shaking your head negatively.

 "We're starting over but… take my hands and squeeze them as much as you need. Don't worry about grinding them."

 You grabbed his hands and restarted each step over, crushing his hands. But the contact with matter, your breath and Owen's comforting eyes, help you gently. A soothing silence has settled between you. Owen had helped you through this panic attack when you didn't even know each other. But you could feel deep inside that this man was good. Things seemed to calm down for you and you thanked Owen with a genuine smile.

 “You know how to deal with it ... Thanks for that.”

 “I also suffer from anxiety and panic attack. But the elevator is big enough here that it doesn't cause me one. Although I am a little anxious ...”

 “hey, breathe Owen.” You replied with a smirk

 Owen laughed and shook his head as if to say "that's a good one!" You look at the young man again, staring at him intently. It was very rude but you couldn't put a name on his face anymore. You were sure you knew him. Was he a distant cousin? A neighbor? A guy you knew in high school? Or just a guy you saw in an ad? Maybe the ad for these new cereals!

 “Excuse me but ... I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I?”

 “In an elevator, yeah!” he joked

 You laughed he was funny

 “No, I mean ... I feel like I've seen you before but I really can't remember where.”

 he sighed, as if a little tired of the question. You were surprised at his reaction but Owen answers you anyway

 “Yeah, I don't usually talk about that when I first meet a girl, especially when I'm stuck in an elevator with her but ... I'm an actor. I played some stuff on Nickelodeon and now I'm supposed to shoot season two of Julie and the phantoms, it's a Netflix series.”

 You watched him chattering, you nodded then wide your eyes. This is where you saw it! You had been relentlessly browsing the Netflix catalog and seeing the trailer for the series he told you about, but you had avoided it, the show seemed too childish for you. You first reaction was to make fun of him

 "Again, don't forget to breath Owen. But the way, I didn’t want to bother you with that question."

 He laughed lightly then smiled politely at you. You didn't seem to be a hysteric or a weird person. He had a deep feeling that you were a good person, which is why Owen seemed to relax.

 "It's just ... for a while, I thought you were a fan and I didn't want things to be weird all suddenly "

 "Oh don't worry I haven't seen any of your shows.” you said nonchalantly

 Owen burst into laughter. Once again, it was bafflingly sincere and he was really starting to enjoy being stuck in an elevator with you. You smiled, the energy in the cabin was positive that you almost forgot you were stuck with this young man for almost half an hour. You didn't know when you were going to be able to get out of here but you didn't really care anymore for the sole reason that you wanted to get to know this man. You tilted your head back, resting it against the elevator wall before sighing loudly. Seconds later, your gaze turned to Owen again.

 “So tell me about this series that you’re filming. What is it about?”

 "It's a pretty cool show actually. It's directed by Kenny Ortega, I don't know if you see who he is."

 "Hell yeah ... he's the choreographer of Dirty Dancing"

 "Himself ... So what about the storyboard ... It's about ..."

 And then, you listened to him to tell you about the series. Something like a '90s band dying of food poisoning from a bad hotdog and returning twenty-five years later as ghosts to help a super talented young girl to make music after her mom passed away. It made you laugh; it was probably the dumbest death on TV after Marion Cotillard's in Batman. He couldn't even stop anymore so that he sometimes swapped over a few anecdotes from the set. You even got a little exclusive on season two before Owen stopped in the middle of a sentence.

 "Sorry, I got a little carried away. But when you like your job, it's pretty easy to talk about it."

 You smiled at him and Owen started asking you questions, about your work, your life, your passions and you were giving him back. The conversation was fluid, natural You learned that he was German, that his mother tongue was German until he was about four years old, that he had a sister and had lived with his parents until that year when he moved into his own apartment. Getting to know Owen was really nice and you could feel your stomach twist every time he smiled. He was a boy full of humor but also sarcasm.

 You've been stuck with Owen for an hour and a half now. You ended up sitting on the floor of the elevator. Boredom was really starting to take hold of you. You rummaged through your bag for something, anything. An idea crossed your mind when you saw the small block of post-it notes.

 "Owen"

 "hmm?"

 "How would you like to play a game?"

 "What kind of game do you want to play here?"

 "Who am I?"

 "Obviously you are y/n" he tells you with a smirk.

 You laughed before pulling out your notepad and a pencil to show it to the blonde. He claimed to have understood your intention, which made you smile even more. Of course, Owen knew the game you wanted to play. He nodded, and you'd write a celebrity's name on a sticky note before sticking it on your new friend's forehead. He did the same for you. Fortunately, your two post-its are well stuck. Owen spoke

 "I start: am I a man?"

 "Obviously" you say with a smirk, responding to the blonde's previous joke.

 Owen laughed, catching the tone of your voice.

 “But how funny she is! Is my character a man?” He continued.

 You did several parts. You even teased him when he made you guess Julie and the phantoms, because the game didn't stop only with characters, celebrities but also series, movies, musicals. You were laughing when there was another shake, stronger than the first, the lights came back on and you couldn't help but be disappointed. You looked at Owen and he seemed to have the same gaze as yours. The doors barely opened and you found the hotel staff, patiently waiting to ask if you needed medical assistance, while also offering you a bottle of water. You left the elevator car, hurriedly stuffing the many post-its into your bag. You didn't really know how to act with the blond guy next to you. You had formed a little bubble in that enclosed space and now it seemed to have burst. For some strange reason, it made you sad. Now is the time to part ways with your new friend.

 “well, good-goodbye, it was nice to meet you.”

 you rushed into the hotel lobby a little more, but Owen seemed to catch up with you, his long legs only having to take a few strides.

 "wait, y/n!"

 You turned to him, you could see the embarrassment on his cheeks, asking with a frown what was the cause.

 "I think you let that go"

 "No, I don't"

 You looked at the crumpled white paper. It even looked like a piece of chewing gum. And at first glance, Owen's perfectly white teeth were chewing one.

 "I think you did."

 He handed you the paper with a determination that convinces you. You bite your lip as you look at the series of numbers on the packaging: a phone number. His telephone number. Owen swallowed hard as he looked at you. His eyes never leaving your lips.

 "It's pretty spontaneous of me but ... I won't start filming until next week. I hope you're still here the day after tomorrow ... because I would really like to ask you to come have a drink with me ... "

 Your cheeks turned red, did he really just ask you for a date? You did not know what to answer. The urge to say yes was so present but you were afraid to rush. Perhaps humor was your only defense

 "it depends"

 "about what?"

 "Does this appointment include a blocking session in an elevator? This is the only way it works"

 Owen laughed before giving you a genuine smile, showing his perfectly aligned white teeth. God, what a beautiful man.

 "I can try to fix this and find a faulty elevator."

 "So expect a text from me"

 You smiled back at him and gave him a wink before turning on your heels. Owen's heart skipped a beat and he when he arrived several hours late in the hairdressing section of the set, Charlie laughed at him saying that he had never seen him so happy to have a haircut. hair. But in reality, the blond was only waiting for one thing, and that was to receive a message from you, which arrived in a second.

 (y/n) text : "After being stuck in an elevator, here I am stuck in traffic ... Are you sure you want a date with me, you might just end up stuck with me?"

 Owen couldn't help but smile broadly.

 Owen text : "I'm sure. I'd love to even be stuck with you (again).”

(y/n) text : “Fine, ghost boy. See you soon”

[olivarryprompts]

Fanfic Friday #11

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I post a new here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567529

{fancy suits from dad}

Ships: Peter Stark & Tony Stark, Pepper Pots/Tony Stark

Warnings: swearing, just fluff otherwise :)

Wc: 2,319

Here’s the thing, Peter Parker grew up in Stark Tower, which eventually became Avengers Tower of course. So whilst his whole class was buzzing about their field trip, all he could think was, “shit, shit shit.” His dad was going to embarrass the hell out of him. His Aunts and Uncles were going to endlessly tease him.

So, no Peter was not looking forward to the field trip. Not in the slightest. He still wanted to go, though. He knew that the rumors of his internship being fake were started by Flash, the annoying teen. He also knew that Flash had not once said his real name, preferring the name Penis Parker. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Also since highschool began, Flash had calmed down with his bullying. Well, maybe Flash hadn’t calmed down and high school was just bigger and he had thicker skin. And a new support system with plenty of people to go to.

Peter had been adopted by the Starks when he was a mere ten years old. At first, he was terrible at receiving any gifts or even too much attention. Slowly but surely, he got more and more used to it. Now, he wouldn’t not know what to do if any of that was taken away. Plus, he really did find a liking for expensive suits, however shallow. He looked good in them, and his father always insisted on buying him more and more. Tony would always find an excuse to spoil the kid a little more, however much Pepper tried to stop him.

“Peter, please see me after class regarding an urgent matter.”

Brough out of his thoughts, Peter swiftly nodded his head.

He looked at the board to see the words from before still written on them, “Field Trip to Stark Industries!” It might as well have said, “Dig Peter Stark’s Grave!”

“So, let’s get started with today’s lesson, graphing imaginary numbers on the complex plane!” He’d done this one a while back with his father. Something about not only learning applicable science and engineering. Peter tapped his glass, and the episode of Arrow he’d been watching on the car ride over began playing. He’d be ever grateful for his father’s gift of EDITH to him. Pepper had tried to ban him from wearing them to school, but hastily gave up when Peter pulled the spiderman danger card.

“Alright, class dismissed. Please remember to do this homework pages 11-18 on this unit’s homework handout.”

Peter, forgetting his teacher's previous request, was very glad to be on his way home. He was one foot out of the door when the teacher called his name. Now, his day had gone pretty well up to that point. Bucky made pancakes for breakfast, which were delicious. There was wayyy less traffic on the way to school. He’d aced an essay and a couple of quizzes, and then he even participated in PE effectively. But alas, all good things had to come to an end.

“Mr. Parker? The discussion.”

“Right,” Peter thought, joining the teacher at his desk.

“Peter, you are truly a great kid. I know you’ve been through a lot recently and in your life, but it is no excuse to make up an internship. We both know that it is not real. Now, acknowledging that you have a bright future, the administration and I have come forward with an offer. If you agree to write an apology, expressing that you understand what you did was wrong and immoral, you will both be allowed to come on the trip and no punishment will be given to you. If you choose to not take this opportunity, you will be banned from the trip and will be chastised.

Peter just stood there, not really comprehending. Apparently Flash’s little rumors were a lot bigger than he anticipated.

“I-i-I’m not lying,” was all he could manage. He had filed all the right paperwork and proved his internship.

“I’m sorry to hear that you will not come forward with the truth. You have up until the day before the trip to hand in the letter if you change your mind. Goodbye Peter.”

Peter just let his legs take him out of the classroom, then out of the school, and then to the road, a couple blocks away, where his dad picks him up from.

“Hello mini-me.”

“Hey,” Peter said, jumping into the passenger seat.

“‘Hi Dad, thanks so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to pick me up each and every day. Sick new car by the way! I’d love to drive it sometime!”

Peter just rolled his eyes with a smile, “Car looks great dad. McLarren’s are superior yet.”

“Ungrateful, so so ungrateful. What’s got you in a mood then?”

“Nothin,” Peter said, pulling out his phone.

“Oh come on, tell me. Tell me or I’ll call Ted.”

“Ned, Dad. We’ve been friends for like three years.”

“Not the point.”

“Just something at school.”

“Wow how very descriptive. You know I’m trying to do the whole feelings thing here, and you should appreciate that coming from my emotionally stunted self.”

“You’re so dramatic. Basically we’re having a field trip to your tower, and I’m not allowed to go because the teacher doesn’t think I really have an “internship.” Which, to be fair I don’t but that’s on you and not me.”

“Nah na na. I offered you an internship, and you said I’d be bored.”

“It would be. Doing a project for your company under strict supervision of some person would be sucky. I mean I can do anything I want from the lab you built me.”

“I know, but remember technically you are my intern. Remember we did that whole personal intern bullshit for the school.”

“Oh right. Is that why you keep harassing me about submitting all my completed projects.”

“No, that’s all your mother. Something about not wanting a lawsuit over a fake internship.”

“Make sense. She tends to be a lot smarter than you.”

“Ah, I feel so attacked. The abuse I suffer.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I am internally crying, kid. Sobbing.”

“Shut up,” we laughed.

“Who’s home?”

“You saw Buck and Sam this morning. Nat and Steve came back from their mission this afternoon. Thor and Loki are back for dinner tonight.. Strange might be coming round, not sure though. Cliff and the family aren’t back for at least a couple weeks. Oh and Bruce is wholed up in his lab as usual.”

“Shit. Everyone staying till the end of the week.”

“Yeah, oh the field trip. You’re screwed. You should have not told me.”

“Ughhhhh!!!”

“I love your life Petey.”

Peter walked into the kitchen and saw Steve reading a newspaper.

“Uncle Steve! Your back!” he smiled, dropping his bag off near the sofa. Steve got up to give the smaller boy a hug.

“Yep. Mission completed.”

“Nice. Can you tell me about it?”

“Yeah, it was nothing too interesting. We just needed some more intel into a terrorist organization stationed in the US. Most of the mission was recon. The next steps are being taken in a couple weeks.”

“Good to know there’s an active terrorist organization out there,” Peter said lightly.

Steve just smiled, not quite understanding the modern humor.

“Where is everyone else?” he said, realizing the living room was not in it’s normal chaotic state that he’d come to love. The chaos was his favorite reminder that he had so many people. He liked having lots of people, even after all this time.

“Nat and Buck are training, they invited you to join if you want. Bruce is in his lab, and dont worry he slept and ate last night. Not sure about the rest.”

“Right, thanks. I think I’m going to go train.”

Before he knew it, it was Friday morning, and his school was coming to his home. He was going to try very hard to ignore them. To do so, he asked his mum to let him sit in on some meetings. He had an easy in to the R&D and mechanical side of the company via the other interns. He was actually planning on hanging out with some of the “other” interns later that day. They were always happy to let Pete in on their projects and let him give them a hand. But he was always interested in getting more detail about the business side of the company, and he liked to get a window into it. Pepper was always happy to show her son the ropes. I mean he was heir to the company after all, even if he didn’t know yet.

He asked his mum to only schedule meetings after 12 as he requested a sleep in. Pepper was always happy when Peter slept as he was a little too much like his father. So, he woke bright and early at 11:00 o’clock.

After a scroll through his phone and a quick shower, he was ready to pull on his far too expensive Brunellio’s custom suit. It was one of his favorites. His father had got it custom made when he was in Italy, and told him he simply could not resist getting one for the kid. Pepper just smiled.

He had a large breakfast (enhanced metabolism) and headed towards the 34th floor where his first meeting was located. He’d been shadowing his mum for almost a year now whenever it was convenient, so he had the rointine down. He was almost sure he could take over a few of her meetings.

“Hi honey,” Pepper said, giving the boy a quick kiss on the cheek on the way to her own chair beside him. Peter blushed before resuming his professional posture and facial expression.

“Good morning everyone, as you can see Peter will be joining us today. I want to talk about some of the services we provide for our employees and their feedback. I’m aware we have a large portion to talk about so Kendra please take it away on that front.”

The first meeting went smoothly as planned. It was a discussion on the progress of the internal services, aka the IT department. Peter hadn’t learned much about their IT department, so it was good to listen in to. Pre these meetings, he, of course, does research into the background stuff, so he’s not completely lost. Pepper’s assistant usually provides him with a packet of info about the Stark Industries side of things. He is also given a list of key words and concepts he might want to make sure he understands. The research is fun for him, it makes him feel all professional.

Usually he spoke during the meetings, asking a couple questions and suggesting some ideas, but for this one he just learned and took in. The next meeting, however, was very much so his field. He’d spoken a lot with advertising, becoming very interested in the data analysis behind it. He even took a stats class so he could keep up. In that one he asked questions Pepper was on the verge of asking twice. He also contributed to the analysis of data once. Pepper usually liked him to participate as it was good for him, but he always felt bad suggesting stuff to the senior adults. He usually spoke to his mum or dad about projects for the company, preferring that.

They hung back in the room of the second meeting.

“Good job in this one Pete. Took two questions right off my tongue.”

“Thanks ma,” he said, always appreciating some approval.

“That’s all I’ve got for you today, kid. Rest of the stuff is, ya know.”

“Course. Thanks for these two. It was good to learn about internal affairs a bit more. Have a gap of knowledge there.”

“Yeah. Was that the first time meeting our CIT?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, next time we have a broader IA meeting, I’ll pull you outta school,” Pepper suggested.

“Really? That’d be epic.”

“Course, hun. Jarvis, sort that out please.”

“Of course Mrs. Potts.”

“Thanks J,” Peter yelled.

“Anytime mini-boss. No need to disturb the entire floor.”

“Are AI supposed to be so snarky?”

“Dad programmed it, what else would it be?”

“Valid point.”

“Right, got to run. See you later.”

“Bye, love you mum!”

“Love you too, Pete.”

“Jarvis, could you send me the tour plan for the visiting tour today?”

“Absolutely, sir. They’re on your phone now.”

“Thanks J.”

Looking at the plans Peter smiled. He had successfully avoided them the entire day. It said they were supposed to head back to school at 2:30, and it was about to be three. Smile on his face, he trotted down to the lobby to grab a coffee before going to meet Loki at the arcade. Don’t judge them, it was their thing. Taking the private lift down, and then walking straight to the coffee stand and ordering.

“Mr. Parker!” he heard the angry voice of his teacher, “How dare you show up here aft-”

Shit. shit. Shit.

“Edith, call dad, and tell him it’s urgent in the lobby.”

“Of course Peter.”

“Peter, are you listening to me! You are going to face extreme consequences for this.”

“Your coffee,” the man said, not realizing it was Peter, level ten personal of the tower, that was being yelled at.

“Thanks.”

“How dare you get coffee! In this building! Security!”

Tony arrived spotting his son instantly.

“Kid this best be impor- I see.”

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said weakly.

“Mr. Harrington is it? Please stop harassing my intern.”

“H-he, he is y-your intern?”

“Yes. My favorite. Please exit the building and never question him again. You will be hearing from me.”

Let’s just say, Monday was an interesting day. At least Flash backed off, he was definitely an intern at SI, and no one embarrassed him on the trip.

[vanilla-vivillon]

Aight here’s that part two of ✨Kanej✨Kiddie

Here’s part one - https://dablackdahlia.tumblr.com/post/650477962667425792/hey-so-i-have-some-kanej-kid-headcannons-that

It had been two month since Azriel started working for the dregs

And Inej was getting closer to her

At first she started to ask around with other suli in Ketterdam

They were few

But they were close

No one seemed to know who Azriel was

Inej even went and talked to the settlement in the countryside

But no one knew her

And Azriel was no help either

She had however revealed she was actually half Ravkan

The whole situation was a coincidence really

Luck

But Inej learned to never squander these opportunities

The next priest Azriel was going for was a ravkan one

He preached about Grisha saints

Sankta Zoya of the Storms

Sankta Leoni of the waters

Sankt Adrik the uneven

And dozens more Inej pious as she is couldn’t recognize

Azriel came to Inej neeeding assistance

She needed to get in one of his seminars

But pretty quickly the little pests figured out there was a dreg running around getting rid of them

And security was tighter

“You can break into the Slat but you can’t break into a religious seminar?” Inej asked while sharpening her knives

“The slat is easy”

“Why do you say that?”

“There are cracks and corners” Azriel said annoyed at having to explain herself

“Such as..?”

“Brekker’s window.”

Inej stopped

Kaz always kept his window unlocked for her

She and him never saw it as a security risk

Who would ever attempt to get into DirtyHands penthouse?

But if Azriel got in...

“That’s quite the climb”

“Who’s saying I’m climbing?”

Saints Azriel could be insufferable

She claimed she was twelve but she clearly wasn’t

Ten at most

Yet it seemed she already masterd snark

“Then how do you get up there?”

“Come now Wraith, I can’t tell you all my secrets”

Seemingly bored of this conversation Azriel got back on track

“Will you help me or not?”

Inej was pretty big in the small religious community

She was invited to the seminar herself

“Say please”

Azriel rolled her eyes and with exaggerated reverence said “please Sankta Inej of liberation will you help a poor sad orphan in her job so she doesn’t get sent to the gallows?”

“Kaz won’t send you the the gallows”

This piqued her interest

For all she knew Her boss regarded her with indifference bordering on Adversion

“And why is that?”

“He likes you”

“He doesn’t like anyone”

“That’s not true” Inej paused “I’ll help you”

Azriel gave a wicked grin

“Perfect”

The chapel was grand

Beautifully glass stained pictures of Saints adorned the walls

Azriel couldn’t stand it

Inej adored it

There cover was Azriel was a recently freed slave that Inej saved

Her name was Anvi Patel and she was thinking of joining the church

It was crucial that Azriel has a full conversation with Reverend Kordov

Of course she didn’t tell why to Inej

“Alright what’s your plan Azriel?”

“That’s on a need to know basis Captain”

Saints Azriel was spending ti much time with Kaz Inej thought to herself as the little pest looked around the chapel

Hazel eyes scanning every crvice and corridor of the building

And her nature filled eyes found the reverend

“There” Azriel send gesturing toward him

He was a man with greying hair and kind eyes

Inej almost felt bad for him

Almost

“Alright we’ll go up and you’ll introduce me as Anvi. Tell him I want to work for the church choir”

“You can sing?” Inej questioned as they started towards him

“Like a dying Cat”

They reached the priest

“If it isn’t the Liberator” said kordov

“It’s wonderful to meet you Reverend” Inej responded

“And who might this be” the priest asked turning towards Azriel

“This is Anvi. I recently liberated her. She was hoping to join a choir, I was wondering if this church had one yet”

“Of course we do!”

Kneeling down towards Azriel “Were you a singer?”

“Yes I was” her entire demeanor changed

Gone was the clever bengal cat

And in came a timid and meek bunny

“A-a Little. Before everything happened...” she stuttered meekly

“Where are your parents?”

“Gone” the same thing Azriel told Kaz and Inej when they asked.

Inej started to wonder if she played the part to well

Perhaps she truly was a slave

“Is it true that this place is dedicated towards Grisha saints?” Azriel asked

Ah

So that’s why she needed a conversation

If this place worshipped Grisha it made sense it had quite a few members with... special talents

If Azriel wanted to take down the place she needed to know if there was Grisha in hiding

Any Grisha in Ketterdam knew to keep there talents hidden at all costs

While getting taken off the streets was less of a risk thanks to Inejs hard work,

There was always a risk

He nodded “we talk about the lesser know ones”

“I always thought Grisha were so illusive” Azriel said getting a little bolder and stop stuttering

“They are. But these are no ordinary Grisha”

“Take Sankta Galina”

Inej never heard of her

But Azriel seemed to know

“Healed a Shu Princess years ago”

“Yes that’s correct, do you know what the Shu did to her after?”

“Cut her up and sold her blood to the Kaelish” Azriel said making sure to put some fear in her voice

That was odd

While Azriel might’ve done research

It was suspicious how much she knew

Perhaps she grew up in a church

Kordov seemed suprised aswell

“I’m suprised you know so much about Grisha saints”

Obviously not likening where the conversation was going Azriel swiftly changed the subject

“I’ve been hearing rumors...”

“What kind” Kordov said suddenly more interestied

“Well I heard that there were Grisha in this very chapel!” Azriel said looking around at other patrons to feign excitement

Kordov went pale

“Where did yu hear that?”

Azriel seemingly suprised by his reaction

“I’m sorry reverend. Twas just a rumor really”

But Azriel got what she needed

There were Grisha in the church making everything much harder

“As much as we’d love to stay and chat Anvi must be getting back to her sister”

The reverend quickly regained his composure and plastered on a smile “I di hope you’ll visit again”

“We will” Inej replied

When they were safely away from the church Inej questioned Azriel

“He has Grisha there Azriel”

“I’m aware”

“He might even be Grisha himself”

“I’m aware of that to”

“Hey” Inej quickly turned in front of Azriel stopping her brisk pace

“Do you really think you can take on Grisha?”

“Of course i do”

“You’re a fool then”

Azriel ignored her and kept walking

“I’m serious Azriel. What’re you gonna do when you have three inferni after you”

“Outrun them”

“And how did you know so much about grisha saints?”

Azriel laughed at this

Not a schoolgirl giggle

Not even a wicked laugh

Just plain old laugh

Like she thought it was funny

“I’m Ravka there all anyone can talk about. The great Sankta Zoya. The beautiful Sankta Alina, Hell even Sankt Adrik people adore!”

But then Azriel stopped short

She revealed something

Something important

But Inej didn’t want her to close up again

“The saints aren’t to be mocked like that. Speak of them with wonder”

Azriels shoulders relaxed a bit

Inej didn’t acknowledge this big information Azriel has given her

Azriel was from Ravka

Interesting

Hey y’all. It’s me. Back. Here’s part two of the Kanej kid thing y’all liked. Part of me thinks I should just write a fanfic

But the other, lazy me thinks this is easier.

Sorry for the many grammar errors typing Is hard for me.

My ask box is open and I take any Grishaverse requests

Also give this a reblog if you made it here

[flamingfalcon3]

Hello! I have finally finished the first chapter of my first Jori fanfic. I’m still trying to get a feel for the character interactions but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it! I’m gonna start posting to ao3 once i get that account set up (and figure out a title lol) but I might as well post the first chapter here! Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Jade knew her girlfriend was hiding something. 

Tori was not a hard person to read. Hell, the girl practically wore her heart on her sleeve. It was so easy to guess what she was feeling at all times that Tori had all but given up trying to conceal her emotions. 

So, when Jade noticed that Tori was a bit more high-strung and stressed than usual, it wasn’t hard for her to conclude that there was something on her mind. 

It also helped that Tori was an awful liar. 

“What’s up with you?” Jade asked casually during lunch one afternoon.

“Nothing!” the singer squeaked suspiciously. She cleared her throat and attempted to regain composure. “Nothing is up. Everything is great!”

Jade frowned slightly, not at all convinced, but decided just to drop it for the time being as the rest of their friend group arrived at the table. 

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sikowitz made them all tapdance while performing a scene to “demonstrate how important it is to stay in character no matter what the character may be doing” or whatever and then spent the rest of the class monologuing about how a squirrel got trapped in his bathroom. 

Jade sighed a breath of relief as the final bell rang and cut Sikowitz off just as he was about to go into detail about the standoff he had with the rodent. The only one seemingly more anxious to get out of the classroom than Jade was her girlfriend, who was out the door before the bell even finished ringing. Their friends glanced at each other in confusion. 

“Maybe she really hates squirrels?” Robbie suggested. The others considered it for a moment before shrugging and forgetting about it a second later, exiting the classroom.

Jade strode over to Tori, who was frantically throwing books into her backpack from her locker. Jade leaned back against the locker next to Tori’s while folding her arms across her chest. 

“You’re in a hurry,” the goth commented while watching the girl struggle to cram a science textbook into her bag. 

“Jade!” Tori jumped slightly, seemingly startled by Jade’s presence.

“That’s me,” she responded dryly. “Did you forget about our date after school today?”

The singer’s eyes widened in realization and her hand flew to her forehead as she let out a groan

“Jade, oh my god, I am so sorry! I completely forgot!” she confessed, clearly feeling guilty she had forgotten they’d planned to have sushi after school ended.  

“It’s alright,” Jade replied coolly, quirking the corner of her mouth up slightly to convey to Tori she wasn’t upset with her. “What’s got you in such a rush anyway?”

Tori paused for a moment, staring down at her converse.

“Oh, umm… I promised my mom I would help her with… something,” she mumbled.

“Something…?” Jade probed, hoping to get a little more context on what had her girlfriend so worked up. Tori, however, would not offer her any.

“It’s not important. I swear I’ll make it up to you,” Tori slung her bag over her shoulder before stepping towards Jade and planting a short but sweet kiss to her lips. She then turned and began walking towards the exit. 

“You better! I can’t have people think I got stood up!” Jade called out after her, earning a hearty laugh from her girlfriend as she left the building. 

The goth rolled her eyes, amused by Tori’s refusal to admit what it was she was helping her mother with. It must be super embarrassing or something. 

Jade was halfway through entering her locker combination when she remembered something that gave her pause.

Tori’s parents were out of town for the week. Trina had a showcase and they needed an excuse not to show up. Why would she need to help her mom with something if-?

Jade’s phone lit up with a message from Tori directed towards the group chat, asking if anyone could lend her $100 bucks. The goth furrowed her brows. Tori rarely asked for money, and never more than $10 dollars at a time.

Tori Vega, what the hell are you up to? 

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

All Jade could think about for the rest of the day was how strange her girlfriend was acting. She wasn’t responding to her text messages and apparently none of their friends had heard from her either. It wasn’t like Tori at all, and Jade’s curiosity was slowly turning into concern. 

She knew it was silly to be worried. Tori was a big girl, after all. Still, why would she need $100 bucks on such short notice? And what was with her skittish and secretive attitude? 

Maybe she was in trouble with someone. Maybe she needed to pay them money in order to keep them at bay. 

The thought was so absurd that Jade almost burst out laughing as soon as it entered her mind. This is Tori she was talking about. Miss “I have never stayed out past curfew” Vega. Not exactly the type to get tangled up in criminal activity.

Still, Jade couldn’t help but feel uneasy about Tori’s radio silence. It wouldn’t hurt to pay her a visit, right?

15 minutes later she was climbing through her girlfriend’s bedroom window, which Tori for some reason always kept unlocked. Tori wasn’t there, but her backpack was on her bed and her phone was on her desk. Jade let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as she sank down onto the bed. Not 10 seconds later she heard the sound of footsteps and the bedroom door creaked open. In walked Tori who jumped five feet in the air and shrieked upon seeing someone in her room.

“Jade?” Tori yelped. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my texts,” the goth deadpanned. 

“So you broke into my house?” 

“I didn’t break in. Your window was unlocked,” 

“That’s still breaking in!”

“Is it really, though?”

“Yes!” 

Jade was about to argue further when she noticed Tori was holding a grocery bag, and its contents looked quite heavy based on how far the bottom was sagging. 

“Whatcha got there?” She asked, gesturing towards the bag. Tori glanced at it quickly before fixing her gaze back on Jade. 

“Just some stuff for a science project,” she stated, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Tori,” Jade huffed. “We are in the same science class. We’re lab partners. We don’t have a science project.”

Tori stammered helplessly, trying and failing to come up with some explanation for what was in the bag. Jade groaned in annoyance, fed up with whatever game her girlfriend was playing.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me what’s going on! You know it doesn’t matter what it is since my opinion of you can’t get any low-” Jade was interrupted by a strange noise coming from somewhere in the room. She immediately turned to locate the source of the sound.  

Tori could only watch helplessly as the goth scoured every inch of her room before finally tearing open the doors to her closet. A tiny fuzzy creature emerged from the darkness. And then another. And then another. They kept emerging from the closet until there were seven tiny kittens of various colors and patterns wandering around the room. 

Jade slowly looked back up at her girlfriend, confusion written all over her face.

“How-how did those get in there?” Tori stammered, trying her very best to feign ignorance as all the kittens ran towards her meowing hungrily. 

Unfortunately her “very best” still wasn’t very good. 

“Tori, why were there cats in your closet?” Jade asked, still absolutely bewildered by the scene that was unfolding. 

The singer realized there was no way she could talk her way out of this one, and just gave her girlfriend a guilty look before opening her mouth.

“Remember last week when there was that sudden downpour in downtown Los Angeles?” Jade nodded. “Well, I was walking home from Nozu’s when I heard strange noises coming from an alleyway. I went to check to see what it was and-”

“Wait, you heard strange noises coming from an alleyway in downtown Los Angeles at night and you went to go check it out?” Jade asked incredulously. Jesus, Jade doesn’t know how her girlfriend has managed to survive for this long considering her self-preservation instincts were non-existent. Tori just rolled her eyes in response.”

“As I was saying, I went to go check out what the strange noises were and… well,” she turned to look at the kittens scampering around her bedroom. 

Jade brought her hand up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“So let me get this straight, you wandered into a back alley while it was raining and found kittens and decided the best thing to do would be to take them home?” Jade was still bewildered by her girlfriend. 

“Well when you put it that way it sounds like a stupid idea,” Tori blushed while avoiding eye contact. Jade sighed but took a step closer to her. 

“I mean, I always assumed you would be one of those lesbians who would have like ten cats but I thought that would start after you moved out of your parents’ house,” she smirked. 

“Hey!” Tori let out a mock-offended gasp while swatting Jade’s arm playfully. “I mean, I probably will have to move out once they come home and discover I’ve been hiding kittens in my room despite my father being deathly allergic to them.”  

Why was Jade attracted to such a moron? 

“Can’t you just give them to a shelter or something?” she asked gently. Tori shook her head softly.

“I thought about it but the pounds are apparently really full this time of year so there’s a significant possibility that they'll get…” Tori paused, unable to even finish the thought. “It’s just… they’ve been through so much in the short few weeks they’ve been alive and I can’t just abandon them now!”

Stupid Tori and her stupid heart of gold. The goth groaned and tilted her head back.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll help you with you’re dumb kitten problem,” Jade’s heart fluttered a little as she watched Tori’s face lit up like a christmas tree. 

“Really?” She gleamed. “How?”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who would be interested in adopting tiny kittens. Especially if you go into detail about their tragic backstory and stuff. People are suckers for that kind of stuff,” Jade stated. “You could like, advertise them on The Slap and try to get them adopted before your parents come back.”

Tori chewed at her bottom lip, contemplating Jade’s suggestion.

“That’s… not a bad idea. People advertise things on The Slap all the time,” she hesitated for a moment and her face fell. “Ugh, wait. Trina follows me. If she finds out I’m hiding kittens in my closet she’ll rat me out for sure.” 

Jade closed her eyes and sighed deeply. God, she can’t believe she was about to say this.

“I guess… I could… post about the kittens on my page, or whatever,” she grimaced. Tori’s grin got so wide Jade was concerned her face was about to split in half. 

“You would do that for me?” she exclaimed. “But, your reputatio-”

“My reputation died as soon as I changed my status to ‘in a relationship with Tori Vega’,” Jade snorted. “Kittens would be nowhere near as embarrassing as you.”

Tori was beaming at her girlfriend despite the insult, chuckling lightly as she wrapped her arms around Jade’s neck and peppering her face with soft kisses before finally connecting their lips. The goth let out a content sigh in the back of her throat and attempted to deepen the kiss while pushing Tori backwards to the bed. However, Tori hummed and broke the kiss leaving Jade more than a little confused. 

“Sorry, I-” the singer stammered. “I would feel weird making out in front of…” 

Jade quirked her eyebrows up in amusement.

“In front of… the cats?” she asked, barely suppressing a laugh. Tori nodded, cheeks red with embarrassment. Jade just chuckled and rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s. 

“Jesus Christ, Tori.”

[gwendolyn02]

For Him - Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:  Reader would do anything for Spencer to be happy even if she doesn’t think her feelings are reciprocated, and when Maeve’s life is on the line she proves that. Plus reader and Spencer are able to talk effortlessly and have a deep connection not Maeve and Spencer. Also kind of inspired/based on Yellow by Coldplay

Word Count: 1985

Content Warning: Blood, guns you know normal criminal mind things :/

A/N: This is my very first fanfic I have ever written. I don’t really know what i should put as warnings and such so I’m winging it along with all of this. Also I don’t know what to classify this but I’d guess angst with a happy ending. Like I said this is my first fanfic so bear with me. I also did not proof read this because I was so excited to post it so it might have spelling or grammatical errors.

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

Spencer and you have been the best of friends since a month after you joined the team, and you’ve had feelings for him just as long, little did you know the feelings were mutual. The whole team could see the longing looks when the other wasn’t looking, they even have a bet of when you guys would get together. You were always there for each other comforting and consoling the other when a case hit a little too close to home for either of you. You’d distract yourselves if you didn’t want to talk about why a case had upset you; You’d read to each other, watch Doctor Who, play chess, or even go on walks late at night to look at the stars.

When Emily “died” Spencer would come to your apartment crying his eyes out and you stayed strong for him as he has had so many people leave him, he needed comforting more than you, and that made your heart ache even more. You decided to take him to your couch, lay his head on your lap, and run your hands through his hair. It would calm him so much that he’d fall asleep. He looks so peaceful well he slept with his head on your legs you couldn’t help yourself to lean down and kiss him on his forehead and whisper, “Do you know, you know I love you so.”

It’s been a while since then, Emily is alive and in London, and everyone has gone back to normal, well everyone except for everyone’s favorite genius. He was happier than normal, but also more secretive. The team thought that you guys must have finally started dating until one day you came in to work looking a little down, and your longing looks towards Spencer also had pain in your eyes. That was the day after you found out about her. You were having one of your normal hang outs with Spence when you noticed he was spacing out a lot and he had this look in his eyes, a look you knew well. It was the same look you’d get when you thought about him. You didn’t like it, you almost denied it but you had to ask him if your suspicions were right.

“Who is she?” you blurted out. He jumped your sudden outburst blush started to creep up his neck.

“Who is who?” he asked hesitantly.

“Spencer I’m not stupid. You've been extra happy and more secretive lately, and you were just spacing out with a smile on your face. You never space out when we’re watching Doctor Who. So, there is only one reason, you’re seeing someone. What’s her name?” you ask hoping he’ll deny it meaning it’s not too serious or that you were somehow wrong.

He’s hesitant but he says, “Maeve, her name is Maeve.” Your heart drops at this, and you tell him your happy for him. You were happy it was getting late so it wasn’t suspicious when you said you were heading home after that episode. As soon as you closed your apartment door behind you, you leaned against sliding down to a sitting position finally letting your tears fall.

When he walked in late the day after that wearing your favorite outfit of his you realized you couldn't go through with your original plan of slowly distancing yourself from him even if you wanted to, because his happiness was more important to you than your shattered heart. So, you continued to be his best friend even if it ripped out your heart every day and you now had to listen to him gush over her.

It was all good until one day at work he told everyone about her and how he was sure she was missing and how because of that he couldn’t focus on anything for more than four seconds making him the dumbest person in the room and needing the team and your help. You have never seen him like that, it hurt you in more way than one, he loves her, it's clear in his voice cracks along with how much pain he is in, and at that moment you promised yourself you’ll do anything to bring her back to him alive.

*Time Skip to outside Diane’s loft*

Diane knew your feeling for him, and that you’re his best friend, how she found out your unsure, but she did, and she wanted you both there. If you had to guess it was to raise the stakes for Spencer.

“Take your guns and vests off.”

You and Spencer followed her orders.

“Now just you two come in.”

You guys got to the top of the stairs and she opens the door with gun in hand, “Put the blindfold on him and lead him to the chair,” Diane says to you. You do so very carefully as she has her gun pushed into your back as she follows you.

Spencer asks if he can take the blindfold off and gets told no. He and Maeve swap hellos as Diane is putting her hand down Spencer’s shirt and complimenting in his brain and looks until he mentions her thesis, as you watch a little confused on what you're supposed to be doing so you start to mouth to Maeve that everything will be okay.

Spencer is trying to trick her into thinking her thesis is valuable enough to keep her save and out of jail, as you are trying to run through all possible outcomes of this situation in your head. He is trying to convince her he loves her not Maeve, and to let Maeve live with her irrelevancy. She makes sure to make Spencer say he doesn’t love you too, which confuses you, he doesn’t love me anyways you think, but he hesitates for a quick second and you and Maeve catch it but somehow Diane doesn’t. She then kisses Spencer and when he doesn’t reciprocate, she knows he’s lying. He grabs her gun and it fires into the air and then Spencer’s arm, it happened so fast you weren’t able to help him in fact you were knocked onto the ground. The rest of the team was in the room now as you hear Spencer repeatedly saying to stay back. Your standing back up when Spencer is telling her, “There is still a way out of this. Diane, I offered you a deal and you can still take it. M-”

“Me for her,” you interrupt him.  

“Why should I do that?” she asked.

“Because he hesitated in saying he didn’t love me, if you kill her you wouldn’t kill who he truly loves. You’d still have the real competition for him left,” you lie for the second half of this, but you aren’t looking at Spencer whose eyes got even wider in fear as what you were saying was actually true, and Diane sees that and aims her gun towards you. As she does that the team all have their guns pointed at her head. You hear two guns go off and Spencer screaming “WAIT!” you and Diane are on the ground now. Your stomach was gushing out blood. Diane his down a few feet away from you a bullet hole right between her eyes. Spencer rushes over to you and applies pressure to your wound as he tells the others they need medics, now, your vision as blurring and everything you hear is incoherent. Then everything goes black.

You hear movement around you and even though your eyes are closed you can see how bright the lights are in the room you’re in. You open your drowsy eyes to see Spencer pacing the room, he seems to be a mixture of worried, nervous, and stressed. It also looks like he’d been pulling at his hair some too.

“Hey Spence,” you croaked out. He immediately turns to you and lets out a sigh of relieve.

“Y/N, you’re awake, thank goodness. How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like I’ve just been shot, but other than that perfectly fine,” you chuckle. He doesn’t laugh back, instead he gives you a very stern look.

“Why’d you do it Y/N, why’d did you trade yourself for her?” he questions. You look up at him and think what the hell, might as well tell him the truth.

“Do you know Spence I’d do anything for you, I’d even bleed myself dry,” you tell him in all honesty. He looks at you completely flabbergasted. Then he flushes pink and looks extremely nervous.

“There’s uh... something I need to tell you,” he mumbles and you look at him intently, telling him to continue with your eyes, “I’ve got to tell you this now, I can’t hold it in any longer, especially after almost losing you, you know, you coded on the operating table twice? I almost lost you, twice. So, you need to know Y/N I'm in love with you and I have been for four years six months ten days eight hours twenty-three minutes,” he glances down to his watch really quick, “and fifteen seconds, and I broke up with Maeve, she knew when I hesitating in saying I don’t love you that I really did, and sure I loved her but nowhere close to how much I love you, I only started dating her because I knew there is no way you’d return my feelings, but that was unfair to her,”  he exhales loudly as he rambled forgetting to breathe in between sentences. You look at him in awe, mouth gaped open, and when you realize he staring at you waiting for you to say something.

“I love you too Spence, I have for a long time now, but I thought a genius like you would want another genius, not me,” you say blushing. He moves closer to you leaning towards to you and you lean towards him and gently brush you lips against his. He takes in that you want to kiss him too and smashes his lips into yours for a passionate kiss. You were so caught up in the kiss that you didn’t hear the doors to your hospital room open as the team walks in, you only realize when you hear Derek wolf whistle and Penelope squeal.

“My man,” Derek says slapping Spencer on his shoulder.

“Congrats,” Rossi and Hotch tell you guys, Hotch even wearing one of his rare smiles on his face.

Alex just smiles. While JJ pulls Spence into a hug before carefully doing the same to you. Penelope is so excited she hyperventilating a little bit in the corner with Derek now trying to calm her down, he looks over his shoulder at you two and say, “We’ll give you lovebirds some privacy” leading Penelope out as the others follow. You and Spencer just look at each other and smile contently.  

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

Bonus Scene

As the team are outside of your room with a finally calm Penny G, JJ calls Emily and puts her on speaker, while the other each hand Rossi a twenty.

“Hey Em guess what just happened?” JJ says, and Emily doesn’t know so she replies with a what with a chuckle as she could hear the smile in JJ’s voice so she knows it's not a serious call. “Y/N and Spe-”

“You owe me twenty bucks,” Rossi cuts in.  

“Are you for real?” Emily asks knowing exactly what he was talking about, the bet the made when you first joined the team that they updated every so often and started going by months instead of days or weeks since you guys took so long. They had updated it right before Emily left and when Alex came, she decided to join it too. Rossi had this month.

“Yup,” JJ confirms, “we walked in on them kissing.”

“Well it took them long enough,” Emily says, and everyone laughs in agreement. Even though you were shot it ended up being a happy day.

[inoobwriter]

Life At U.A High School: Part 1

Summary: It’s you first day at U.A high school. And now you have to fight... everyone in class 1-A?! How will the students of class 1-A react to you? With they like you? Hate you?

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Main Pairing: Midoriya x Bakugo X Todoroki x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k words

Art Cover by Me

Next Part: (Click here)

*****

*Notes Before Reading*

1. In this fanfiction the MC is a female so if you're a male reading this please ignore the drawings since the MC is portrayed as a girl.

2.  I gave a canon design to the reader but obviously, if you don't like it you can imagine whatever you want to look like. 

3.  IMPORTANT: This is my first fanfic in a long time so the romance will start off really slow and if you wanted smut, well this is not it chief.

4. My writing isn't my strongest skill so feel free to tell me any mistakes you read during this story.

5. Because I don't want to spoil which character the MC (You) will end up with I decided to post at least the tags of the ships mentioned in this story.

6. This story takes place between season 2 and 3 right after class 1-A finished their first term exam.

***I, DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS EXCEPT MC READER***

***PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR STEAL MY ART FROM THIS WITHOUT PERMISSION***

Well, that's it for now! I might update this in the future.

Please enjoy my fanfiction and see you later! :D

*****

Part 1:

It was another normal day for the students of class 1-A, first-term exams had finally been over and everyone was happy more than usual as their nightmares have finally ended. They finally had a short time to relax and not worry about anything. They all were looking forward to summer vacation as well as the training camp. Today was their last day before summer vacation started. Yet for some reason, as they were walking in the hallways of the school Iida demanded more than usual for everyone to head to class early. Obviously, everyone ignored him and took their sweet time. Eventually ten minutes before class started Iida started to yell at everyone who was walking in the hallway to hurry up.

"Come all now! As students of U.A, we should all be punctual to class! Even if it's the last day for the first term here!" Iida said while waving his right hand, "Midoriya! Hurry up but no running in the halls."

"Coming!" Midoriya said speed walking to the class, "Man, I should really start waking up more early." He wheezed

"Oh shut up nerd." Bakugo yelled, "And you! Why are you so much of a pain in the ass than usual."

"Bakugo!" Kirishima said, "You really need to calm down! You can't be saying that to our class representative!"

"It's alright Kirishima," Iida said as his glasses cracked from rage

'It's not alright.' Everyone except Bakugo thought, 'He's clearly mad.'

Iida then adjusted his glasses as Yaoyorozu walked right next to him. "I wished we had more time to talk about this," Yaoyorozu said looking at Iida

"Which is why I urge them to get here early." Iida stared at everyone, "Well can't be helped. Listen, everyone, we have something important to say!"

Everyone walked towards Iida and Yaoyorozu.

"To answer your question Bakugo." Yaoyorozu said, "We're having a new student!"

"Wait for real?" Midoriya asked surprised

"All right!" Kaminari said

"What really?" Ashido said excitedly

"Wait how come you didn't tell us before?!" Sero asked

"Forget that!" Mineta said as drool came out of his mouth, "I wanna know if it's a girl."

Almost all the guys were shocked as they have not realized this before. The whole class became excited and started wondering how the new student would look like.

"Aww, I hope they are one!" Ashido said excitedly

"Yeah it would be nice to have more girls in this class," Jiro added.

"You said that, not me," Mineta said as he had a stupid pervy look on his face.

'A new student.' Midoriya thought excitedly then suddenly he realized something, "Hey Iida." Midoriya said as he approached him, "I didn't know we could have a new student in our class."

"Hey, what heck!" Kaminari yelled at Midoriya

"Yeah! Why are you suddenly against it!" Mineta said, "I bet you want her all to yourself!"

"We still don't know if they're a boy or a girl Mineta." Tokoyami spoke unfazed

"No, it's not like I'm against it." Midoriya said, putting his hands slightly up, "It's just... don't you think it's strange?"

Everyone then looked at Midoriya and thought about it for a minute

"It's true."Uraraka said, "Normally you would take the entrance exam at the start of the school year."

"Yeah." Sero scratched his head, "Plus I never heard anything about entrance exams being taken during the school year."

"That's because it isn't announced publicly."

Suddenly the door to the class opened and Mr. Aizawa walked in and looked toward them. Everyone was already in their seats and stayed silent as they watched him walk up in front of the class.

"Alright listen up. Today we have a new student joining your class."

From being quiet and scared of Mr. Aizawa everyone started being loud and excited about it being true. Everyone was wondering where they are.

"Enough." Mr. Aizawa said with a stronger tone.

And just like that everyone had quiet down and went back to being afraid of him.

Mr. Aizawa then turned to the door, "You can come in now."

And just like that, you walked into the classroom.

"Introduce yourself." Mr. Aizawa said

"Hello! My name is F/N L/N and it's a real pleasure to meet you all! You said as you had your hands on your cheeks.

Everyone was excited until they saw your face. 'Hah?' Everyone thought, 'Why is her face like that?'

 "You have no idea how excited I was when I found out I'll be in your class! The famous class 1-A who managed to witness first hand, the League of Villains and work alongside with the pros!" You said.

"Huh, you know about that?" Yaoyorozu asked you

"Of course! It was all over the internet and TV, I'm so honored to be here!" You said bowing down to them

"That's isn't necessary," Iida says embarrassed, shaking his hands around. Everyone was flattered by your admiration.

"Man I already like her!" Kirishima said putting his arms behind his head feeling proud of himself.

Everyone seemed happy to see you and so were you. You really admired how ordinary kids around your age got to do heroic things for others you wanted to become someone as brave as them. But you were more excited when you saw-

"Not to be rude or anything." Midoriya said, scratching his face, "But why do we get a new student? Shouldn't L/N have waited next year?"

"Right! As the class representative, I ask that you tell us why, sir!" Iida said as he stood up and raised his hand

"Sit down," Mr. Aizawa said then he turned to look at Midoriya, "As for your question, we normally don't."

Everyone sat there confused as they stared at him. Mr. Aizawa sighed and explained, "Every year we have an entrance exam to get into this school, the written and practical test. If you fail the exam you have to wait until next year to retake it. If you've been recommended then you have a different exam from the rest. However, not only do we accept students who get recommended but we also scout for students. Obviously, we tend to recruit them at the beginning of the year as well but sometimes we find gifted students later than others around the end of the first term."

Everyone looked confused on how the school managed the scouting for students part. Mr. Aizawa sighed again, "Basically if the school finds you worthy enough and you didn't participate in the entrance exam you get another shot to become a student here. Not only does U.A high school help its students become the greatest heroes, but we also let others know that they too are also worthy of becoming heroes if they chose to. "

Midoriya then soften his look and looked down at his table, 'Just like how All Might told me that I too can become a hero as well.'

"Oh so were you the one who picked L/N?" Aoyama asked

"No." Mr. Aizawa sighed, " They got scouted out by someone else and just happened to pass the exam and now they were assigned to me."

Mr. Aizawa said, defeated, "Another student to make my life miserable."

"WE ARE THE ONE'S SUFFERING! WHY ARE YOU SULKING!" The whole class yelled at him.

"Anyways." Mr. Aizawa said as he gave both the class and you a glare, "Let's go to the training grounds." He started to walk towards the door, "Since I know you guys are curious about L/N's quirk we might as well train while we're at it. Everyone go change into your gym clothes and meet me on the training grounds. Yaoyorozu you take L/N to the locker room and introduce her to her locker." He said as he walked out of the classroom.

"All right! I can't wait to see your quirk!" Ashido said excitedly as she was running up to you

"Yeah hope it's something flashy!" Kirishima said

"And elegant like moi," Aoyama added as he was all sparkly

Everyone gathered around you and you quirky got fluster.

'Omg everyone wants to know about me!' You thought

"Tch." Bakugo said as he got up and walked, "Hey loser!"

You looked at Bakugo as he pointed at you, "You may think you're all hot shit for being recruited by the school but just to let you know I'm going to be #1, so I'll crush you!" He said as he left with an irritated look on his face.

'Oh...my...god!' You thought as you stared at him leaving, 'I thought I was gonna die!'

"Sorry about him." Midoriya said as he walked towards you, "He can be really mean at times."

"I can tell." You said panicking, "He looked like he wanted to murder me!"

"Yeah, he does that a lot to us." Kirishima said, scratching his head, "But I promise he's a good guy after you get used to him!"

"I hope not." You said suddenly getting nervous, "I don't want to be yelled at for the rest of my life."

As you stretched your face out of fear Iida demanded everyone to hurry up, you then followed Yaoyorozu to the locker room along with the rest of the girls. Everyone was cheerful and were welcoming you to their class.

"It's so nice to have you here," Jiro said

"Yeah one more friend to have!" Uraraka said clapping her hands

"Another girl to hang out with," Asui said looking up as she was thinking about something

"After this let's all hang out together!" Ashido said raising her hands up high.

As you nodded happily Yaoyorozu led you to your locker to get ready for the spar, 'I can't believe I'll be sparring with everyone. The top class of first-year! I can't wait to see all their quirks.' You thought excitedly. Then as you were ready to close your locker and follow the rest of the girls you paused, 'I'll be sparring with him... I hope... he's really is as cool as he was online.' you blushed as you bit your finger.

After a while, everyone gathered up on the training ground and Mr. Aizawa stood in front of the class and started talking, "Ok." He said as he reached out into his pocket and pulled out an eyedropper and started to put some on his eyes, "Who wants to fight L/N first." He said as he put away the eyedropper.

Everyone started to shout and raised their hands,

"Me! I wanna go first!"

"No fair I called dibs first!"

"Pick me~" Mineta drooled

"Well before we do anything I will explain the rules of this fight." Mr. Aizawa said as he raised his hand to them, "Both of the students will have bandanas on their heads, and whoever steals the other one's bandana first wins."

"Oh so just like in the mocking battle at the sports festival!" Hagakure said raising her arm up.

"Heh," Bakugo said smirking as he stretched one arm up, "Too easy."

'Yeah too easy indeed.' Midoriya thought as he put his hand on his chin, 'There's has to be a reason why.'

"Well in that case I'll go first!" Kaminari said walking towards the center of the stage. You then walked to the other side where Mr. Aizawa was.

"I'll promise I'll go easy on you." He smiled

You smiled back, "Oh no, don't hesitate. Please give me your all!"

Kaminari blushed a little as Mineta got salty, 'I should have been first!'

Everyone went to the sides to get a better look at the fight that was going to happen.

"But Mr. Aizawa!" Iida raised his hand, "To fight with a beginner that's just-"

"Begin." Mr. Aizawa ordered ignoring Iida's concern over you

"Don't worry pretty girl I'll promise this will only sting for a moment," Kaminari said as he started to run towards you, quickly charging electricity to his right hand

Midoriya noticed what he was doing, 'He's changing his technique from the sports festival. During the festival, Kaminari went full-on and used his attack open wide without any calculations and lost.' He then took out his notebook and started to mutter loudly as always making everyone sigh around him, 'There he goes again.' Everyone thought

"Interesting even Kaminari can think enough to improve his skills," Midoriya said, "All he has to do is-"

'Is getting a closed range on L/N and she's done!' Kaminari thought getting closer to you, 'I'm almost close! Now I gotta make sure I touch her-'

As he thought about his sure victory a hole suddenly appeared under him and he fell. Everyone was shocked wondering where he had gone too. Suddenly Kaminari appeared falling off a hole in the middle of the air a few yards off the ground of the other side where you were. By the looks of it, Kaminari had used up his quirk and was now in his dumb state. You walked up to Kaminari and took his bandana off his head.

"Thank you for at least trying." You smile as you walked to Mr. Aizawa handing him the bandana.

Almost everyone looked at you with shock, others kept their straight faces, and one even looked like furiously writing something on a notebook.

"Well what did you expect?" he said as he stared at everyone, "Everyone wants to know about L/N's quirk and what better way than to spar." He then turned around to look at them. 

"There's a reason why they are here, to begin with." Mr. Aizawa said in a serious tone, "They were specifically scouted from school and passed all the exams. Including the first term exams."

Everyone stared at you widely and stared back at Mr. Aizawa

"Do you think we let just any beginner into your class late in the school year?" Mr. Aizawa said with a serious tone, "Well think again."

Midoriya then looked at you and got serious.

"In this school, we help all students become the greatest heroes, we also let others know that they too are also worthy of becoming heroes if they chose to work faster and harder to catch up with you guys."

'That's right.' Midoriya looked at you, 'If Y/N got accepted by the school and is already at the same level as us.'

"I waited for the day we got to meet! Please." You said as you looked straight at Midoriya.

'Y/N must be very strong.' Midoriya thought as he closed his notebook and responded back to your glare with determination in his eyes.

"Show me what makes you guys the talk of the school." You blushed slightly "...Midoriya"

1: The New Student (End)

* Hope you like it and want to see more!*

*****

Chapter List

Part 2

*****

[owl-with-a-pen]

Hi! I just read the fanfic about Brainy and Nia going to the future and meeting their daughter, I know you posted it a long time ago, I'm just new to tumblr, so if you can I want you to do a fic about the future, where Brainy's daughter and Nia is 5 years old. And it would be cool to see the antics that her daughter does.XD

- Sorry this took so long to fulfil, but yes! I’m sure she’d get into all sorts and this story probably only scrapes the surface! Thank you for the prompt x

Nia had always preferred the night over the day; maybe it was just her Naltorian side talking, but she’d always felt there was a certain peacefulness about the night-time that just couldn’t be replicated in daylight.

That definitely hadn’t changed since Nova had come into the picture.

The daytime had always been busy for a number of reasons. Balancing work and family life, balancing family and hero life - balancing work, family and hero life. But, now that Nova had reached an age where she was starting to explore her natural curiosities, Nia and Brainy hadn’t had the luxury of focusing on anything else. At five years old, they couldn’t let their daughter out of their sight for one second of the day.

The second the sun went down, though?

Nova’s sleeping pattern had always been pretty steady, and once she was out - she was out. She’d definitely gotten that from Nia’s side of the family. After all, Brainy didn’t really need all that much sleep, although he had admitted to her on more than one occasion that he enjoyed resting at her side, retreating to his inner network at hours Nia would otherwise be sleeping, working on small tasks and calculations reminiscent of an actual dream-state. In that way, he could still be close with her during the night, and Nia valued that time together immensely.

Of course, the fact Brainy didn’t actually need those extra hours had made him the best dad ever when it came to late-night wake-up calls courtesy of one baby Nova.

She still wasn’t old enough for them to know for certain the extent of her abilities; Brainy had predicted they wouldn’t fully develop fully until her teen years. Honestly, though? Nia didn’t care what powers Nova had; she was perfect no matter what.

Nia watched from the doorway that evening as Nova cuddled against Brainy on the bed. Her blonde hair was getting so long now, falling in relaxed waves down to her elbows, and the light green tone of her skin was almost washed out entirely by the soft purple of her nightlight on the bedside table. She was curled into Brainy’s chest, chewing idly on her thumbnail, her dark eyes scanning along inquisitively to the passages he was reading aloud to her. Nia smiled privately to herself; Brainy really got into character when reading Nova to sleep, making a big show with grand gesticulations and silly voices, even when the book of choice for tonight was an account on quantum mechanics from Carlo Rovelli’s collection.

Nova had a unique taste in literature, that was for sure and, while she was definitely getting a taste for mathematics and physics, she also still enjoyed simpler story telling. Nia and Brainy had decided to switch up who read to her each night. Sometimes, they’d choose something on Brainy’s bookshelf, and other times they would go for stories catered for a younger – human - mind, like The Far Away Tree, or even folk stories like Little Red Riding Hood or Goldilocks.

Nova really liked Goldilocks; Nia must have read it to her at least twelve times this month alone.

As Nova let out a big yawn, relaxing further into her dad’s side, Nia caught Brainy’s eye, jerking her chin towards the door.

He nodded his understanding, continuing his narration as Nia ducked out of the room, heading towards the living room where Alex was waiting for her, already working open a bottle of red.

“How is she?” Alex asked, sizing up her wine glass as she began to fill it up generously.  

“She should be asleep soon,” Nia said. “But, uh, Brainy sometimes runs Q and A sessions with her if she stays awake through a whole chapter.”

Alex snorted. “Only for Nova would I find that concept adorable.”

Nia collapsed onto the sofa, snatching her wine glass immediately. She reached out expectantly to Alex, grinning when she rolled her eyes, ditching her own wine glass to fill up Nia’s.

“Why, thank you,” Nia said, tucking her legs up beneath her.

Alex tipped her own glass with a wry smile. “It’s my pleasure, really.”

Nia took a long sip, savouring the rich taste. They couldn’t exactly go off the walls with a toddler sleeping next door, but right now, anything that could offer her a brief period of relaxation, Nia was more than eager to accept. She swirled her glass thoughtfully. “You know,” she murmured, “Brainy’ll probably need something a little stronger to take the edge off.”

“Oh, way ahead of you,” Alex said, shifting to the edge of her respective sofa to grab a bottle she had stowed away inside her backpack. She placed it on the coffee table with a flourish, giving Nia the opportunity to try and decipher the alien script scrawled across the label. “Kara recommended this,” Alex said, raising a finger. “Please do not ask me what it’s called, because I will not be able to pronounce it.”

Nia snorted, taking another sip of her own regular alcohol. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“He better, this stuff wasn’t cheap.” Alex smirked, leaning back into the sofa. “How have you guys been, anyway? I feel like this is the first time we’ve seen each other in months.”

Nia opened her mouth, only to frown. Had it really been that long? All the days had been blurring together recently, and yet each one seemed to be separated by something inexplicably unique in its own right – courtesy of one overly curious toddler.

Nia wasn’t even sure she could remember the last time she’d visited the Tower, and going out for patrol or even something as simple as date night was so far off the table right now, it might as well have been in another galaxy. There wasn’t a sitter in the city willing to take on a genius, alien five-year-old with a penchant for mischief.

To Alex, Nia only shrugged. “Nova’s just been needing a lot of our attention lately. Well, all of it, actually. Or else she’ll burn the apartment down.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Wait, like seriously burn the apartment down?” When Nia pursed her lips, Alex’s mouth fell open. “Is that normal?”

Nia rolled her eyes, leaning back into the cushions. “According to Brainy, yeah. Coluans express themselves through their intellect, and Nova’s been flexing that muscle a lot lately. Brainy thinks it’s a good sign, that she’ll probably rise to the twelfth-level, but we don’t exactly have much for a frame of reference, y’know?”

“Well, you have Brainy,” Alex considered. “How was he raised?”

Nia shifted uncomfortably, averting her gaze. She took a long sip of her wine to fill the silence. “Uh,” she said softly. “That’s sort of a… sore topic, actually.” She bit her lip, running her thumb along her glass’s neck. “He had robot caregivers for the most part.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

By the subdued look on Alex’s face, Nia knew she didn’t want to butt in with any more questions on the subject of Brainy’s upbringing. Brainy had certainly shared a portion of his childhood with his friends, at least enough for them to know that his parents were not a topic up for discussion if he could help it.

Even with Brainy occupied with Nova in the other room, Alex didn’t appear comfortable to continue the direction of their conversation.

Nia chuckled softly, trying to clear the air. “Anyway,” she said quickly, steering them back on topic, “there isn’t an earth-equivalent to a robot nanny here; well… except for…” She stopped herself suddenly, resisting the urge to grin.  

Alex narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Except for what?”

Nia shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips to keep from laughing outright. The wine was definitely starting to do its job - not thirty minutes ago, thinking about this would have only stressed her out. She reached for the wine bottle, eager to keep this high going for as long as humanly possible, topping up her glass. As soon as it was full, Nia took another long swig, breathing deeply as the wine warmed her chest. “Kelex,” she said on her next exhale, unable to keep the smile from her voice.

Alex laughed incredulously. “Wait, what? Kel- Kelex? From the Fortress?” She shuffled to the edge of her seat, almost conspiratorially. “Doesn’t Brainy hate that thing?”

Nia shrugged half-heartedly.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Why does he hate that thing?”

That question seemed to ground her, at least. Nia winced. She was pretty sure they were skirting back along unsavoury territory. “He was never totally clear with me,” she admitted, staring down into her glass, “but I’m pretty sure Kelex reminds him of his own caregivers. They – uh – didn’t exactly get along.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it doesn’t even matter. Brainy was happy to entertain the idea, but the second Kara brought Kelex over, Nova was obsessed with the thing. She rewired it in like… twenty minutes.”

Alex stared. “She’s five, right?”

“She’s also half Coluan,” Nia reminded her, toasting her glass in Alex’s direction. “Dismantling machinery is better than any toy I could buy her.” She closed her eyes at that, pulling a face. “I left her in the bathroom for ten minutes today to shower and by the time I got out, she’d turned my hairdryer into a blowtorch.”

Alex winced into her wine glass. “Oof.”

“She’s just curious,” Nia said quickly, rubbing idly at her forehead. Was she really getting a wine headache already? God, she was really out of practice. “She’s exploring her intellect,” Nia said eventually. “It’s healthy for her and I wanna encourage that, I do—” She sighed heavily. “It’s just…”

“Exhausting?”

Nia smiled bleakly. “That obvious, huh?”

“Then, take a break,” Alex insisted.

Nia stared at her levelly. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey,” Alex said with a smirk, pushing the wine bottle over to Nia’s side of the table. “Start with this. Finish the whole thing. Trust me, I have more.”

When Nia laughed, Alex glanced up at her, eyes flashing with a smile. “And, if you guys need a real break, you know that Kelly and I would be happy to help out.”

“You sure about that?” Nia asked warily. “Remember what I just said about the blowtorch?”

“You think a bit of fire’s going to scare me off?” Alex challenged. She leant back, gesturing to herself with relaxed emphasis. “Don’t forget, I shared a bathroom with an incredibly overpowered alien for years. Hell, I used to work for a super-secret government organisation that kept alien prisoners.” She placed her glass back onto the coffee table, folding her arms with a confident nod. “I’m pretty sure Kelly and I can handle a five-year-old super genius.” She winked. “And, if we can’t, we can always rely on Auntie Kara.”

Nia nearly snorted into her glass. She remembered a few choice stories from Auntie Kara revolving her valiant attempt at babysitting for Cat Grant’s son when she’d still been a PA. Something about him ending up on a train that had had a bomb strapped to it? Considering Nova already knew her Auntie Kara was Supergirl, the novelty of being saved from a near death experience would probably still hinge on traumatic, rather than invigorating.

Although, Nia had to admit, the idea of a break – however small – sounded pretty great right about now. She loved Nova with all of her heart, but having even just a few hours with Brainy to herself where she was actually conscious enough to enjoy them would have been amazing.

Still, she couldn’t help but picture Alex and Kelly struggling to figure out how to appease Nova’s more unique interests.

She smirked to herself, pressing her lips against the rim of her glass. “It’s your funeral,” she murmured.

Alex’s cheeks were already a little rosy from the wine and Nia knew she probably wasn’t faring much better. Still, before Alex could promise away any more of her free time, Nova’s door opened and, a moment later, out crept one very dishevelled looking Coluan.

Nia beamed from ear-to-ear. She stood, pausing when the world pitched a little around her. Wine drunk. There was no denying it, she was definitely wine drunk.

After carefully placing her glass on the coffee table, Nia made her way over to the bedroom door. She ran her hand down Brainy’s arm, squeezing gently. “Is she asleep?” she whispered.

Brainy’s expression was warm. He smiled softly, bowing his head. “I believe her excitement today tired her out more than she anticipated.”

Nia chuckled. That was the least surprising statement she’d heard all day. She turned towards the door, peeking inside. Nova’s nightlight was still on, enough to illuminate the profile of her round face snuggled against her pillow where she’d half cocooned herself in blankets only seconds after Brainy had no doubt tucked her in.

Her little mouth hung open slightly, silent breaths escaping her lips. Nia could spy the ears of her own childhood teddy bear poking out from beneath the blankets, hugged tightly to Nova’s chest.

Nia squeezed Brainy’s arm once more before sneaking into the room, summoning a swell of dream energy in her fist to keep from tripping over any mislaid toys or, more likely now she thought about it, machine parts.

Nia smiled; Brainy had promised to fix Kelex for Kara tomorrow. Despite his grievances towards the robot, he still felt guilty over the extent to which Nova had indulged her curiosities. They’d already sat her down to explain to her why what she had done wasn’t appropriate behaviour, and Nova had seemed to understand. Enough that she’d pouted when they’d told her she wouldn’t be able to go with Brainy to the Fortress to help fix Kelex in the morning. The last thing Nia wanted was for Nova to get her hands on the kinds of weapons Kara and Clark had hidden there. Nia had nearly blasted a hole through the wall on accident in controlled conditions when Brainy had been training her, she could only imagine what kind of destruction Nova could cause if she was set loose in there.

It was strange to think all of that had only been a few hours ago. Now, Nova slept peacefully, odd ends of blonde hair strewn across her face. 

Nia reached out, tucking those strands behind Nova’s ears. She perched herself on the edge of the bed, pressing a kiss against her daughter’s forehead. Nova scrunched her nose slightly before relaxing again, and Nia had to bite her lip hard to keep from making any sound.

She was perfect. Even with the chaos today had brought, Nia wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“Sleep tight, Firestarter,” she murmured fondly.

When Nia returned to the doorway, she found Brainy waiting for her. She grinned, linking her hand with his. “Come with me,” she said, tugging him along towards the living room. “We have alien wine.” She raised her voice enough for Alex to hear. “And guess who just offered to babysit?” 

[definitelyobsessedwith]

Protégé

I got this idea while thinking about Casey and Naveen’s friendship. Also, please be gentle with me. This is my first (published) fanfic. (Posted this two times and removed it out of fear but not today! I take constructive criticisms, come talk to me!)

Ten minutes after the diagnostics team meeting, Edenbrook’s secret couple are nestled into each other on the couch. Since the meeting ended an hour early before lunch, they took their time to relax and talk quietly about their routine for the day. That is until Dr. Valentine bolted to sit up.

“Oh my God, I almost forgot! It’s Friday today.” She said scrolling on the food delivery app on her phone.

Ethan raised his eyebrow at her, perfectly calm compared to his girlfriend’s previous actions. “What about it?” He asked.

She stared at Ethan, biting her lip and contemplating how to approach the situation. Ever since he left her for the Amazon three months ago, she’s been having lunch with Naveen every Friday. Both doctors keeping each other company for the absence of their favorite diagnostician. Naveen was the only person she could talk to about Ethan and ever since she saved his life, the two have grown close sharing secrets and sharing their favorite grilled chicken salad from a restaurant two blocks away. Their routine was fairly simple, Casey would order an hour early for the salads and Naveen would prepare their favorite berry tea before parting ways after lunch. 

“Well, I actually have to go have lunch with Dr. Banerji today. It’s a regular thing we do but i’m sure you can tag along.” She explained.

“Regular? Tag along? What do...” he muttered, utterly confused to why she would have lunch with his mentor. He stared at a sheepish looking Casey until his brain put two and two together that in his cowardly absence, Casey and Naveen were getting along. “Why didn’t I know about this?” He inquired.

“Tomorrow would be a week since we decided to date so the last time I had lunch with Naveen, which was last Friday, you and I weren’t even speaking to each other.” She marveled at what a difference a week could make. The first month Ethan was away she was left with unanswered questions and doubt until it turned to worry and self-pity, the second month was spent in sadness and tears, and missing him immensely. When he finally came back and told her he wanted nothing to do with her she spent a month in anger trying to forget him until he begged for her to come back.

He took her face in his hands as he felt a pang of guilt for how much he hurt her but he also looked at her in awe. How much Casey could forgive him was a mystery to him but he decided he would spend every day trying to make up for it. “Do you really want me to come? I’m okay with spending my lunch here.” He said while caressing her face.

Casey gave him a shy smile and kissed his nose. “Of course. I, um, wanted to tell Naveen about us and what this means for our jobs if that’s alright with you.” She asked nervously. They both decided to keep things private for the sake of her reputation and to figure things out.

He dropped his hands from her face and reached out for her hands looking for comfort as he thought about what this could bring. Casey tried her best not to fidget while waiting for his answer and squeezed his hands. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Ethan said he was okay with it and had a few questions himself. She breathed out a sigh of relief and snuggled into him while continuing to order their lunch.

Half an hour later, they walked beside each other to Naveen’s office. To the public it would look like Dr. Valentine and Dr. Ramsey were just on their way to visit the chief but inside their urges were threatening to expose them, wanting so badly to walk hand in hand. It’s been a week of dating versus months of waiting so the pair were having a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. Finally they reached Dr. Banerji’s office and each took their own deep breaths before walking in.

“Ah, it seems my lunch buddy is a little late for our meeting. I hope that means extra ranch for my salad.” Naveen teased lightly.

“I’ve got all that and more Dr. Banerji.” Casey said, walking in first as Ethan followed. 

“Ethan?” He asked visibly confused at first and smirking after a beat. “I see you’ve caught our gossip session. Well, what do you think? Do we make a dubious team?” Naveen teased the younger doctor.

Ethan just smirked back reaching for Casey’s hand and lacing their fingers together. She squeezed his hand and smiled softly at the chief. “We didn’t get caught, Naveen but we do have something to tell you.” 

It only took a second for the older doctor to know what they meant and he grinned so big that his glasses were practically on top of his cheeks. “Finally!! I thought I was going to have phage war 2 or cancer would have gotten to me first before you two finally decide to get together!” He exclaimed, eyes bright with humor.

“NAVEEN!!” They both exclaimed at his morbid sense of humor.

“Oh hush you two! What do you expect me to do? Act surprised? Now unwrap that chicken salad. You’re half an hour late and i’m starving.” He said waving them off. 

Casey shrugged and got to preparing their lunch as Ethan set up the utensils. When they were finally seated and started digging into their salads, Ethan decided to get straight to business.

“So.. I have a few questions.” He started while looking at his mentor

“I’ve known you for a decade and more, of course you would have questions about your relationship.” He responded in good nature.

He sighed. “What will this mean for us? Ethically, I mean. What rules are we overstepping? How will this affect us in a month? Or in a year when-“

“Ethan, slow down!” She reprimanded, putting a hand on his knee. She looked at Naveen. “Sorry about that. I think what we meant to ask was will this affect our careers in any way? We’ve certainly haven’t been dating for long but I’m guessing we raised suspicions over the past few months. We wanted to tell you as our friend and Chief but what about our colleagues and the board?” She asked calmly.

Naveen pondered on her questions while distributing ranch on his salad. After a beat he responded. “As chief-of-medicine, your mentor, and friend I officially give you my blessing wether you decide to do it publicly or not. You two are part of the best doctors we have here so I know I wouldn’t have any trouble with it affecting your work. Especially not you, Ethan.” He added lightly and earned a scoff from the brooding doctor. “But..” he added, a tad bit serious this time. “You won’t have to answer to the board since there are no violations to colleagues dating. It’s just frowned upon. My advice is that you take extra care with your work because a slip up will lead to an investigation and might include your relationship as a factor to the said slip up.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Casey said quietly, a hundred thoughts running through her head.

Ethan looked at her and lifter her chin up. Not ashamed of the PDA he displayed to his grinning mentor in front of him. “Hey, we’ll be alright, Case. Work first when we’re at the hospital, right?”

She smiled at him “Of course. We’ll get through this.” She said. More confident this time. She looked back at Naveen as Ethan dropped his hand from her chin and laced their fingers together once more. 

Naveen continued. “Another issue at hand is your reputation, Casey.” He said eyes flickering to Ethan’s stony expression. “There will be gossip and hospital politics. The best I can do is show that it was my decision to give you the spot on the diagnostics team and if you choose to make your relationship public, I can also talk to Harper to show transparency on how we ranked interns.” He said, smiling warmly at the couple. “That’s the best that we can do for now and there is no telling on how the future goes. All I know is that you both have my support.”

The couple gave him grateful smiles. “Thank you, Naveen. Truly.” Ethan said, his tone applying the depth of his gratitude to the man who was always there for him.

“Now that we lifted the heavy stuff, let’s have some tea!” He said cheerfully getting up and going to his tea collection while Ethan and Casey cleaned the table. They felt relieved and a little bit lighter having gone through the talk.

Three minutes later, Naveen put a big, steaming cup of tea for Casey. “The usual.” He said cheekily and she took it gratefully in her hands throwing a side eye at Ethan’s water bottle. He wasn’t really the type to drink tea.

Ethan looked offensively at the cup and then at his girlfriend. “The usual?” He scoffed. “My coffee machine feels so betrayed right now. Do you go to different offices for different beverages?” He asked with an accusing tone.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Are you sure it’s the machine feeling betrayed and not you? I’m sorry, darling, but this tea is what I look forward to throughout the week.”

“Oh really? How would you react if said machine would break down for the rest of the week.” He smiled wickedly, teasing her.

“I’d bring the dishwater flavored coffee the cafeteria serves and have you drink it with me. If i’m going down, you’re going down with me.” She shot back looking at him as his eyes lit up with humor, trying to think of a comeback.

“You two should get married, honestly. While i’m still alive.” Naveen interrupted.

“NAVEEN!!” They both exclaimed looking at him in horror and earning a chuckle from Naveen.

And that’s how the rest of their lunch break went. Banter, a teasing Dr. Banerji and, a cup of tea. Later they would go back to their work and by the time their shifts ended, they would meet at the parking lot. Holding hands in the car and sneaking glances at each other on the drive back to Ethan’s apartment.

[silentauroriamthereal]

Author interview tag

I was tagged by @therealsaintscully! Thanks, you! :)

Name: SilentAuror

Fandoms: Just Sherlock, though I also follow some Old Guard blogs. :)

Where you post: AO3. Though I was almost knocked over the other day when I got a comment on an old HP fic over on skyehawke.com! It’s been literal YEARS since I got a review on anything over there! :P 

Most popular multi-chapter fic: Against the Rest of the World for sure. :)

Favourite story you’ve written so far: With 87 posted fics and 2 more currently on the go, I can’t possibly answer that. That’s cruel. Lol. 

Fic you were nervous to post: This, on the other hand, is easy, haha! Three stories, all for very different reasons: 

1. The A.G.R.A Complex. This was my first Freebatch fic and I thought I might well be burnt at the stake for even writing any RPF. The notion for this story caught my muses’ attention, though, and they eventually forced me to write it against my will. I can’t be held responsible. Lol. It still amazes me that people continue to read it to this day. The notion: Martin and Benedict are friends. There’s a car accident and Martin suffers a fairly mild brain injury. While in his coma, dreams the entire first three seasons of Sherlock, which in this universe, haven’t happened. The nature of the brain injury is such that he keeps shifting mentally between the reality of who he and Benedict (and Amanda) are, and seeing himself and everyone else as their characters in the Sherlock universe. When I posted it, I intended it to be left up to the reader whether to see it as kind of an AU to actual reality, or else a prequel to the filming of Sherlock. When I finally decided to write a sequel, it meant that I had to be the one to make that clear, which made it a prequel. It became a three-part series, with the second part set during and just after the filming of series 3 (the dodgiest in the moral sense, since it dances around and into real life events), and then the third story takes place ten years later. 

2. The Final Proof. Why? Easy. Major character death, and it’s Sherlock. That’s clear from about the first sentence, I think. I had written At the Heart of it All, which features Sherlock running an experiment using the hearts of people who lived lives where they had loved and been loved, and people who hadn’t in an effort to prove his own ability to love to John. He says something at the end of that story about wishing he could see his own heart at the end of their life to see which of the hearts his own resembled by then. And then my muses, my terrible, terrible muses said, “hey... you could write that: you know: Sherlock at the very end of his life, making John promise to look at his heart after he’s died, and complete his experiment.” I, like, teared up just at the thought, and honestly, I cried for most of the writing of that story. I’m assured that about 99% of the people who have read it have also cried throughout, so... sorry. Yeah. 

3. Scars. Why? Easy, again: the entire story is riddled with gaslighting and other types of emotional abuse and mind-fuckery, and an actual rape scene. It was painful to the point of being interally corrosive to write, but I still felt it was a story I needed to tell. I did my homework on this one, consulted multiple therapists who work specifically in the field of men who have been absued (emotionally, physically, sexually) by female partners. I thought no one would read it. I thought I might lose half my followers on tumblr. But I still wrote it. It still amazes me that people read it, even more when they actually like it, and still like me after. Lol. 

How you choose your titles: Hmm... each title genesis is different, I would say! Sometimes it’s a general theme of the story, sometimes it’s a specific concept or single word, occasionally (but not often) it’s a song title. Sometimes it’s another language, particularly Latin. In The A.G.R.A Complex, the title of the story is also the name that the neurologists given to the brain injury Martin experiences. Vena Cava is titled for the name of the vein that Mary’s bullet punctured in Sherlock’s heart, based on a medical analysis I had read. Scars takes its theme from both Sherlock’s external scars from what he went through during his time away, and John’s internal scars from Mary’s emotional abuse. I also have a whole series of (unrelated) flower-themed stories: The Green Carnations comes from ACD era coding for homosexuality. The Yellow Poppies is the story I wrote after the deleted scene about Magnussen’s hospital visit came out, which features both he and Mary as dual villains, and yellow poppies placed in Sherlock’s room as a threat from one or the other of them. The White Lotuses has a leitmotif of Hinduism and slow-blooming self-awareness and romance. The Red Roses is a Molly POV where she helps Sherlock and John get together in spite of her own feelings, and The Wisteria Tree is an amnesia story that has Sherlock forget the past six years of his life, including the five years that he’s been married to John, and how they find their way back together in spite of that. Rosa Felicia - bonus, both a flower name AND Latin, lol! - is a coming-of-age story about Rosie at the age of 19. Where My Demons Hide is a mid-series 4 story that I wrote after The Lying Detective aired, but before The Final Problem did, and is the title of an Imagine Dragons song. Pater Noster is Latin for the title of the Lord’s Prayer in Latin, but also quite literally just means “our father”, and is a story that centres around the events surrounding the death (murder) of John and Harry’s father. You get the gist. 

Do you outline: I always say that one should know how a story begins, how it ends, and at least a few of the major points between those two events. So yes, but loosely. I think that over-plotting kills creativity. It’s not an essay. But even essays need space to grow. 

Complete: 105 stories back in my skyehawke days, the vast majority of which are HP, totalling in about 1.5 million words. 87 stories in the Sherlock fandom (though those include my 4 Freebatch fics), totalling in over 2.3 million words now. 

In progress: I have two stories currently pending: a Christmas story called The Secret of Hazel Grange, and a trauma-based, co-sleeping fic called Nocturne.

Coming soon/not yet started: I never comment about fics I haven’t yet started. Might curse the entire process, lol. 

Do you accept prompts: No, alas. Neither prompts nor commissions. While I’m constantly desperately poor, it takes something out of the writing process for me once it becomes a job. I just feel like that’s not what fanfic is about for me. No judgement to anyone else who does write for commissions, whatsoever - we all have our own process! For me, I’m happy (make that incredibly grateful!) to have donations or supporters through my Patreon (eep: x), but writing to order just doesn’t quite jive for me. I also don’t take prompts, not because I don’t want them, but because I have such a huge backlog of my own ideas that I’ll never get to as it is. There will never be enough time to write all the fics I want to write! That said, don’t think that you can’t still suggest your ideas. My “official policy” (lol) is that I don’t take prompts (for the aforementioned backlog reason), but that doesn’t mean that if you do send me one, my muses won’t seize upon it and force me to write it. You never know. I certainly don’t, at least. :P 

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: I’m super excited by the notion of actually getting my Christmas fic finished by Christmas. Lol. Here’s hoping!! 

Tagging: Anyone who reads this and is a writer, or thinking about becoming one. You’ve been tagged! 

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, pt. xv

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt xv: down the rabbit hole

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~10.6k ( i think? sorry? )

Rating: M for mature. You know; Far Cry 5.

Warnings: canon typical violence, some forced drug use (Bliss) that results in some PEAK emotional manipulation, a friendly reminder that this is not a love story about people in a healthy relationship but just a love story, sort of. Also I love tropes and no one can stop me.

Notes: HM not much to say about this chapter except that I had a ball writing it and I hope that comes through when you're reading it as well!! It's a joy to finally move some plot pieces a long and also explore some different narratives--especially Faith's, who I had been nervous about writing but made myself do it anyway.

I really hope you enjoy it! @starcrier​ blessed me with her input (per usual; she's an angel, what can I say) and of course I want to thank @lilwritingraven for helping me with the pacing of this chapter, as well as @baeogorath​ for letting me send them memes at like 3am and talk abt how Cora and Elliot are going to end up in a domestic partnership with many dog children.

She’s in a bar. 

She’s in a bar, and she’s twenty-two, and Joey is off to go get a drink and she doesn’t think she likes the one she has very much.

She’s in a bar, and she’s twenty-two, and John Seed locks eyes with her from across the bar and it feels like her entire body is getting eaten up by flame. She’s never had a man look at her like he looks at her—starved, like he could never get his fill of her, prowling through the crowd of bodies milling about in the bar to beeline straight for her.

Wanted. He wants her—and it twists in her stomach, writhing, white-hot and intoxicating and the second he closes in he says, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I know,” she says, feeling his hands on either side of her neck, cradling. Her lashes flutter and the oxygen is so thin, like they’re somewhere very high, but they aren’t; they’re just there , together, the wildfire of him greedily devouring the kindling of her bones.

This is the part where Joey is supposed to come in. A part of her knows this: that any minute now, she will get pulled away, that even as John leans down to kiss her, the dream will evaporate and she will be left remembering that moment that she missed so many years ago.

But the dream doesn’t end. John’s lips brush hers; his fingers wind through her hair; John, she says, because nothing in her is not for him, just the kind of girl that he likes—the kind that’s hurting, and that hurts others.

“Just like me,” John says against her mouth. He disentangles his hands from her hair and reaches for her own, bringing them for her to see.

They are drenched in blood. Sticky, wet, crimson. A small, tiny part of her brain says, we can’t know for sure whose, but she knows.

Joey.

“See?” John says, his fingers biting into her palms, his teeth catching her lip. “Just like me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot’s eyes fluttered open. At first, she felt her body brace for some kind of impact—she had woken up in an unfamiliar bed, with unfamiliar sounds of voices outside, and someone’s breath fanning her neck. She shifted, forcing her eyes open despite the strange panic crawling up her throat, and peeked over her shoulder.

It was John. She thought, Oh. And then: Hm.

Not the kind of dread she had been anticipating. It was different than fearing a monster; it was the kind of dread that came with being known down in the most vulnerable parts of you, the kind that she’d felt after she’d stood up from laying everything out in front of Joseph. She’d felt sick, then, and slimy; every detail of every memory about that night years ago before moving back to Hope County had made her skin burn .

And then there had been John. Hands gripping, mouth hungry, but it was always: Anything you want, El. He’d done everything exactly the way she’d wanted it. John wasn’t the first man she had been with since her time in the city, but he was the first to—well, mean something, and wasn’t that a dreadful thought?

Pressing her face back to the pillow, the unfamiliar weight of his arm around her tightened when she shifted away.

“Stop squirming,” John rumbled. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“This is a twin bed, fucker,” Elliot replied, ignoring the unease that was beginning to knot in her stomach. She didn’t know why it was there, inside of her, until she realized she was—happy? “It wasn’t meant to hold both of us.” And then, bitterly: “ Fuck, you’re hot.”

She kicked her leg out from under the sheets, exhaling sharply as the complaint left her mouth. It was too late to choose better wording; she could feel John’s self-pleased aura radiating off of him almost instantly as he buried his face into her neck.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he said, as his fingers skimmed beneath the sheet to trace the lines of her scars. She knew that it infuriated him that she hadn’t told him what they were from—but at least like this, he wasn’t interrogating her, contenting himself with feeling them rather than knowing them. She squirmed and grimaced.

“I mean like a space heater,” she grumbled. Tucking her arm up under the pillow, she added, “I don’t remember saying you could sleep here.”

John grinned against the back of her neck. “Are you kicking me out?”

A long, tired sigh slipped out of her, muffled by the pillow. Every part of her ached in a pleasant way, and John’s warmth pressed up behind her as they lay crammed on the bed in the bunkhouse was a grounding one; the kind that might let her sleep a little more. The darkness in the room meant that she hadn’t dozed off for very long, and even now her eyes felt heavy.

She knew that she’d barely gotten the amount of sleep that she needed since Joey’s death, let alone wanted . Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the gore and grit of it; it sat just behind her eyelids, waiting for her to try and get some rest and move forward to assault her with the memory of Joey’s gruesome murder.

The broken jaw, the gutted chest cavity. The flowers, packed so tight and full she could have rested her cheek on it and been held like a pillow. 

And John’s arms, circling her: Don’t look, El.��

“You can stay,” Elliot said after a moment, keeping her eyes fixed on the wall. “This one time.”

“You’re in an agreeable mood.” John paused, nosing past the hair gathering in the crook of her neck. “You want to tell me how your confession went now? Must’ve been pretty good, considering what you let me—”

She groaned. “I changed my mind. Get out.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, I just—”

“You are so fucking annoying,” she said, rolling over in the bed to look at him. With that grin slapped on his face and his hair tousled out of its normally meticulous slick-back, he looked boyish and young, not like a cultist maniac; it was probably the most frustrating thing about him, that he could look this way. That he could have moments of sincerity, but that he never seemed to fall into the realm of “good”, because every time she felt herself relaxing around him he did something to remind her why it was a bad idea . “I’m not going to talk to you about my confession.”

“Well,” John said petulantly, “why not ?”

Her fingers traced the Sloth scar just under his collarbone. He had a myriad of them—tattoos, too—and while she hadn’t quite gotten them all memorized, it was nice to let the buzzing of her brain focus on parsing them out instead of everything else.

The problem was that Elliot didn’t know how to tell him the truth of it; that she had only told Joseph those things about who she had been and who she was now because she knew that he wanted her to, just like she knew John wanted her to let him kiss her, and just like she knew Jacob wanted her to give him a reason to push her to her limits and really test her. She couldn’t tell John that, because even though it was true , it also didn’t change the fact that he complicated things for her more than she should have let him—like everything, John was an outlying variable which Elliot had no way to brace for.

“It’s not good pillow talk,” she said after a minute, skimming her fingers along the jut of his collarbone. “And I don’t want to talk about it, and that should be enough.” And then, decisively, when John opened his mouth, she said, “It is enough.”

John closed his mouth pointedly, and then said, “You certainly know how to ruin a good time.”

“Goodnight, John.”

She rolled back onto her other side and waited for the departure of his warmth. It didn’t go anywhere—instead, John buckled down, keeping his arm wrapped snug around her abdomen as his mouth traced the slope of her shoulder.

“You’ll tell me,” he said after a moment, his voice a pleasant rumble, “eventually.”

We’ll fucking see about that, she thought, closing her eyes with a muted sigh.

“ Goodnight, John.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You’re late.”

Jacob sounded fully unimpressed, arms crossed over his chest as John stepped into the chapel. It was to be expected, he supposed; after all, they were supposed to have been convening about ten minutes ago, but sleeping in the bunkhouse meant his alarm hadn’t gone off, and—

And, even if it had, he wasn’t sure that he’d have rushed out of bed anyway.

“Sorry,” John said, not feeling nor sounding very sorry at all, he was sure. Joseph was seated patiently by the table, the radio set to the side as it casually flicked through channels on a timer, meant to scan and make sure they weren’t missing out on any chatter. He glanced at John as he came in, his eyes inquisitive, but remained silent.

And then Jacob announced, “Your shirt’s all fucked up.”

“Didn’t have time to change,” John replied. He wanted to say it—he really did—but he mostly wanted Jacob to ask. “I came right over as soon as I woke up. What do we have on the Family?”

“Hey? John?” Jacob leaned down against the table, palms flat on the surface, fixing him with those steely eyes. “What the fuck?”

Faith stifled a laugh, her eyes glimmering wide and doe-like on her face. “You aren’t going to tell us what happened to your shirt?” she asked.

“I feel like this is detracting from the purpose of the meeting,” John answered, trying his very best to feign innocence and focus in the face of the attention, which—after all of Jacob’s moaning and groaning about his incompetency with the deputy, he was enjoying immensely.

Jacob pushed the collar of John’s bedraggled shirt aside with one brisk movement. “Are those nail marks?”

“Oh, John,” Faith sighed.

“Well, I don’t want to brag,” he said, brushing Jacob’s hand off of him, “and I won’t, because there’s no reason to. I’m just doing my—you know, my job.”

“So,” Joseph said, finally, “the deputy is...?”

His older brother arched a brow loftily at him, watching him from across the table. He didn’t seem to be enjoying John’s little show quite as much as his other siblings—in fact, Jacob seemed the most pleased, that wicked grin splitting across his face as soon as John said, “I think you could consider her converted. ”

“Little John finally got around to it, huh?” the red-head said, sounding quite amused.

Joseph waited. “Is that so?”

“She confessed to you,” John explained, “and then—well.” He glanced at Faith for a moment. “ Confessed to me. And actually, you know, Joseph, I was thinking about that little problem we were discussing a few days ago.”

He leaned in against the table, pleased to have their rapt attention—most of all, Joseph’s; his brother’s gaze was fixed on him expectantly, waiting patiently for the elaboration that he hoped was coming.

“Problem?” Jacob prompted. “You mean Burke?”

“I mean the whole thing,” John replied. “Burke, whether he got out or not, what’s going to happen once we get rid of the Family if someone tries to come down on us. Joseph’s right when he says there’s ways to make people not talk. Who knows if the Resistance members got out? And even if they did, who’s to say they won’t leave this place behind them forever and never look back?”

Jacob crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay?”

“Okay, so ,” he continued, and then paused and said, “bear with me—”

“John.”

“What if—Elliot and I got married?” he finished. All three sets of eyes blinked at him for a moment, and then he said, “ If this goes to court, and if we have witnesses pulled up against us, Elliot can opt out of testifying against me if she’s married to me. Only a complete moron would put her up on the stand after hearing that she’s a Seed, and—”

“Stupid,” Jacob interrupted. “Bad plan. If she does get put up on the stand against one of us , what is she going to say, John?”

“She likes Joseph,” he ventured. “Sort of. Right? The confession went well, you said.”

“And me,” Faith offered. “I’m probably her favorite.”

“That’s very true,” Joseph conceded.

John plunged on, “She has a good reputation. She grew up here, went to school here, knows all of the locals, worked on law enforcement—”

“And she’s fucking nuts,” Jacob deadpanned. “They’re going to take one look at her body count and put her in a psych ward. I don’t care if you want to have a bride, John, but don’t pretend that it’s for us and not for you. We all know the second you put your eyes on her—”

“Well, it was really fucking stupid of us to let Burke get out!” John snapped. “It doesn’t look good , you know? The prospects? Not to be a big bummer, but I’m trying to make a win out of a losing hand!”

Joseph lifted his hand to signal that an end to the discourse had come. He settled back against his chair for a moment, pensive, eyes fixed on the Eden’s Gate symbol carved into the front of the chapel; it felt a little like agony to sit and wait for him to break the silence, and John could sense the unease prickling in his stomach.

“The deputy has confided in me the extent of her past,” he began at last, “which matches up with everything we dug up on her before, when she came back.” He sighed thoughtfully. “She was truthful, and willing, and so vulnerable. It really was remarkable—and with all that time she spent fighting us. You should have seen her, John.”

I know, John thought when the spiteful venom shot straight through him, taking away some of the victory that had rooted itself there in his chest. I know, I know, that should have been fucking mine.

“She confessed to me, and then…” His eyes landed on John. Delicately, he continued, “... willingly indulged you.”

“I’ll say,” Jacob muttered.

“It seems that our deputy is turning a new leaf, after all.” Joseph’s gaze flickered absently down to the table, and he asked, “So. She’s agreed to it? This idea of yours?”

No, John thought, with no absence of affection and frustration in equal amounts. If he was being honest, he thought that she wouldn’t have agreed to it even if every bad thing they had ever done to her was erased; that was just the kind of woman that Elliot was. All the more reason to want her. All the more reason to make the taming sweeter.

And if tying Elliot to him legally, by name, didn’t get them out of this mess, it would at least ensure that she stayed in it. 

With him.

After a moment, he ventured, “It could require a little extra persuasion.”

“Hol-ee shit,” Jacob said. “You came with a half-baked idea that you haven’t even gotten confirmation on? John? John?”

Feeling another bout of bickering come on, Faith let out a little exhale of breath and came to a stand, smoothing her hands along the skirt of her dress. Both Jacob and John stopped their oncoming fight to look at her—almost as effective at garnering attention as Joseph, his little snake.

“I’ll talk to her,” Faith said. “It shouldn’t come from you. You’ll just piss her off.”

John narrowed his eyes. “It takes a rapport, Faith, and you’ve barely spent any time with her.”

“It’s not about the amount of time, it’s about the quality of the time,” she snipped. “Fifteen minutes with her and she was willingly offering up information about her childhood to me.”

“Okay,” John replied tartly, “and?”

“When I was kidnapped by the Family, they kept referring to their— substance as ‘opening them to the influence’,” the blonde said primly. “And when I heard that, I thought, what a good idea! It’s easy to overwhelm the body with Bliss, you know. Send someone on a nice trip. But if you just give them a little bit at a time? Over a longer time? Sort of like what Jacob does.”

“We’re not letting Jacob do his brainwashing on her,” he bit out.

“No, John , we’re not,” Faith sighed. “I just mean—give her enough where she doesn’t realize what’s happening. It just makes her…” She searched for a moment, and then smiled brightly. “Soft.”

Oh, he thought, I do like it when she’s soft.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Joseph said, before he gathered up the threads of his thoughts from images of Elliot soft , burying her face into his neck and sighing prettily. “And if she’s more open to your influence because of it, John, then what’s to lose anyway?”

“Well, since we’re all settled on this fucking insane idea,” Jacob said, spreading the map back out on the table, “Faith will take care of that while I educate everyone on what’s going on with our Family, yeah?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When she woke up, John was gone, and with him the satisfying warmth that had lulled her back to sleep. In his absence, Boomer had curled up on the floor next to her bed; John must have let him in on his way out.

“Hey, buddy,” Elliot murmured, reaching down and ruffling his dark fur affectionately. He made a low, whining groan, blinking big brown eyes up at her. “You’re ready to be done, huh?”

Boomer rolled onto his back, stretching his legs luxuriously as she patted his stomach. She was pleased to find that John had left almost no trace of himself—no articles of clothing, no sticky note left on the bedside table. It was as if he hadn’t ever been there.

Well, almost, anyway. She slid out of bed and grabbed some clean clothes from her bag, making her way to the bathroom to start the shower. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she almost started; there were marks blooming on her neck, her collarbone, her hips. Her lips were kiss-reddened, her hair disheveled. She thought for a second that she’d never looked more like a stranger and also felt like herself in a very long time—though perhaps that had to do with having a clear path out of Hope County. As close to clear as she could get.

About ten minutes into the shower and she heard the door to the bunkhouse open; Boomer barked once, and Elliot stuck her head out of the shower to say, “John, I really only just got into the shower—”

“It’s me.” It was Faith’s voice. Softer, sweeter, more welcome even all things considered. Elliot hadn’t forgotten the way that Faith had stuck around to try and comfort her, even if she knew she’d been told to do it, and even if she knew that Faith had to have been doing it for something. The only person who had ever done that because they cared for her was dead, now.

“Oh.” Elliot paused, clearing her throat. “Um—I’m sorry, I thought—” Fuck fuck fuck.

“I can wait,” Faith continued, closer to the bathroom door now. “I was just going to see if you would go on a walk with me. We’re not allowed to leave the compound alone anymore.”

Faith’s voice sounded small, filled with a kind of longing that Elliot recognized in places of herself, too—the kind of longing that she’d felt before she’d met Joey: to be around someone, anyone . She swallowed thickly. 

This wasn’t on her agenda for the day. She was supposed to be grabbing a map, trying to get to the radio without getting seen, figuring out where they kept all of their guns. She’d gathered what ammo and weapons she could at Fall’s End, but it had been slim pickings.

“I’ll hurry,” Elliot said after a moment, and she meant it. She sprinted through the rest of her shower; somehow, the idea of keeping Faith waiting was more tragic than leaving any of the other Seeds waiting, and maybe it was because Faith wasn’t even a real Seed at all and somewhere along the way had gotten snared in their trap.

She had to be safe. She had to be careful. And that meant not trusting a Seed—even an honorary one. Especially an honorary one.

Once she had dressed, she stepped out into the main room of the bunkhouse to find Faith waiting patiently. Unlike John, she didn’t regard Boomer with a look of wary disdain (though it had been a while since he’d done that), but rather with a little smile planted on her face; the Heeler’s hair was up, and he made a low warning noise that rumbled right out of his chest, but he laid flat on the floor and looked instantly to Elliot for a cue on whether their new guest was dangerous or not. She waved her hand at him.

“Sorry about that,” Elliot said before she could stop herself—there was no reason for her to apologize for Boomer being wary of her, considering all of the variables, but Faith’s sweet face gazing wide-eyed and trusting at her was enough to dig right in the grit of her in a way that John or Joseph couldn’t have ever. 

“It’s okay,” Faith replied amusedly. “I know John locked him up in a cage.”

“Yeah,” she said dryly, shifting on her feet. She was glad she’d packed mostly sweaters, a few high-necked, to help conceal the remaining bruising. With a gesture for Faith to head out of the bunkhouse, Elliot followed her out into the late morning—but not before she grabbed a handgun out from under the bed, flicked the safety on, and tucked it under her sweater and into the back of her jeans.

Outside, the sun had receded behind a thin veil of gray clouds, and in the distance thicker ones started to roll in. Angry, boisterous kinds of clouds. She hoped it was going to storm again; she loved an Autumn storm, but she had the feeling that it would only be a nuisance in the end.

“I can’t believe how gloomy it is,” Faith murmured, pouting. Without any ceremony, she took Elliot’s hand in hers, interlacing their fingers like they had been friends forever; a sweet perfume scent wafted off of her, and it smelled familiar , but Elliot couldn’t figure out what it was. Boomer sprinted on ahead of them, doubling back every once in a while as he got his stretch in, and the girl continued, “Jacob says it might even snow. ”

Elliot grimaced at the mention of Jacob but trailed obediently next to Faith. It was so much harder to maintain the anger, even knowing that she had been just as complicit. Faith was just so—

“It’s snowed as early as August here, once,” she offered, dragging her mind away from what it was that bothered her the most: that Joseph, Jacob, and John were all somewhere, convening, likely about her. Likely about things that she needed to know. “What are your brothers doing?”

“Talking about boring stuff,” Faith replied with a little laugh as they walked out from the gate of the compound. And then, with a sly little look on her face, she said, “Talking about you, too.”

A little lurch caught in her stomach. “What about?” she asked faintly, and Faith shrugged.

“John’s upset he doesn’t know what you talked to Joseph about.” As they broke away from the dirt path and went instead closer to the forest, Boomer ducking and darting as he chased a mouse, Faith gave Elliot’s hand a little squeeze. “He really likes you, deputy.”

“You can call me Elliot,” she clarified. The title felt wrong, now that Joey was gone. Now that Whitehorse was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t really even a deputy anymore. “And did he tell you that? He’s got a funny way of saying things.”

“I can just tell. John’s my brother, and he’s bad at hiding his feelings.”

Elliot smothered a laugh before it could come out of her. “I suppose he is.”

They walked like that for a few moments; Faith, remarking often about something that caught her eye, Elliot offering whatever information she could about the flora and fauna, and on one occasion Boomer sat still enough to let Faith brush her fingers over his ears. It was a strange, suspended sort of moment in time, Elliot thought. Like they had entered a bubble entirely their own, perfumed by Faith’s floral-sweet perfume, the freedom of walking outside of the compound, and the gentleness that Faith carried with her.

She was so remarkably unlike any of her siblings that it was almost possible to forget she had ever been one at all. That at one point, she had held Joey captive at John’s behest, in a way to wrench on the softest parts of her.

“I’m very sorry,” she murmured after a moment, garnering Elliot’s attention. “About Miss Hudson. You know, they kept us together. The Family. She was…”

Oh, Elliot thought, as the faint wash of grief slipped up in her, trying to climb up her walls. Oh, please don’t say something lovely. I just can’t stand it.

“So kind,” Faith murmured at last, “to me. Even after everything. When I was crying, and scared, and thought no one was going to come for me, she held me. She always said that you were going to come, no matter what.”

The words rinsed her with a different kind of sorrow, then. Not even really for herself, anymore, but that Faith had known Joey’s kindness, and now she would be without it.

“I’ve always wanted a sister,” Faith continued after a moment, stopping their walk as they had looped back around and now the chapel was coming within sight. A swoon rattled around in her head again as a waft of Faith's perfume smothered her. “You know? Brothers are nice, but—”

Elliot felt a pleasant, dreamy buzzing in her head, and she thought it might have been from the words because— because, and that was all her brain could think to supply as the thoughts flickered around in her head. Because Faith wrapped her arms around Elliot’s midsection and hugged her, head tucked just under her chin, because the young woman felt so tiny and small and frail in her arms, because there was nothing about what she said that came with the same boxed, off-brand sincerity that the rest of her brothers used.

“I’m so happy you came, Elliot,” she murmured, her voice floating up to her muffled by the fabric of her sweater. She was holding so tight that Elliot could feel the rabbit-like fluttering of her own heartbeat in comparison to the slow, luxurious tempo of Faith’s. “I’ve felt really alone out here.”

When she tried to lift her arms, cautiously, it felt like she was moving under water; she rested her hands on the blonde’s shoulders. “Faith,” she started, “if you—if you’re—unhappy—”

I can get you out too, she thought, a little desperately. I can get you out. I couldn’t do it for Joey, but for you, I could.

“What do you mean?” The young woman smiled up at her, and their noses brushed, and that scent washed over her again. What was it from? She couldn’t quite muddle through her brain to catch it and pin it down. “I’m so happy. Now that you’re here.”

“M-Me too,” Elliot managed out. She thought, vaguely, that something must be wrong; before she could trouble herself with it anymore, Faith reached up and kissed her cheek, and then the corner of her mouth, chastely. A burst of floral raced through her mouth, humming between her molars.

“Are you?” Faith asked her as the world wobbled a bit around her. “Happy, Elliot?”

Was she? When she reached around inside of her, dug around deep, she had anticipated to find that sharp little jumble of glass inside of her, all of the anger and the hurt that had been wadded up and sat right locked away in her jaw: but it was nowhere to be found, then. In that moment, all she felt was a gorgeous swoon of delight race straight through her at the idea that she could still be happy.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment, feeling a little smile tugging at her lips. “I am.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So,” John said casually, “are you going to tell me what Elliot said to you?”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” Jacob muttered.

“John, you know that I can’t.” Joseph’s voice was mild, and patient, as he gathered his things from the table and came to a stand. “She confessed to me in absolute confidence. I could never violate that.”

“It’s important,” John replied, shooting Jacob a look when he scoffed, “to make sure that I have as much information as I can.”

As they walked toward the chapel’s doors that led out into the main yard, Joseph rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, rooting him to his spot for a moment. It was just a tiny gesture, but that alone was enough to make John hesitate, glancing over at his older brother.

“Everything that you need to know about our deputy,” Joseph said, “you do. The only advice I can offer you is that she’s already told you what she wants, more than anything.”

“Don’t,” John sighed, “ please don’t be cryptic with me. I don’t know—”

“You do,” his brother cautioned. “You do know, John. She’s just a woman, you know. She wants what anyone wants.” He gestured for him to move forward, and he did, albeit reluctantly, and Joseph opened the door to the outside. “A place to belong. A person to belong to, or a person to belong to them.” He paused. “A home.”

“John!”

As he stepped out of the chapel, Faith’s voice dragged his gaze to the small little space between the chapel and the building next to it. His sister waved at him with one hand while the other clasped Elliot’s tugging her along.

“We wondered how long you guys were going to be,” she said, beaming at him as they neared, Jacob and Joseph trailing after him out of the chapel. Joseph got as far as the doorway, leaning against it comfortably. Elliot’s face was flushed prettily, and yes, he could see it—the ever-so-gentle dilation of her pupils, a strange dragging smoothness to her movements, like each lift of her arm or flicker of her eyes was being done in a syrupy pool of molasses.

“It wasn’t too long, was it?” he prompted amusedly. “Only an hour and a half, I think.”

“Boring,” Faith insisted. “Elliot and I had so much fun. She knows so much about the plants around here, did you know?”

The sentence almost made John laugh. Faith knew just about as much as anyone could be around the plants in the area; he knew that she was capable of this kind of sweet manipulation, but to see it in action, to see the way that Elliot’s nose crinkled at the compliment, was different.

“Not,” Elliot managed out modestly, “that much.”

Joseph said something to beckon Faith; John couldn’t hear it, or if he did, the sound didn’t filter into his mental archives, because Elliot was gazing at him with something other than venom, and when their eyes met she waited a heartbeat too long to look away.

“I think I’m— gonna go lay down,” she said after a moment. “Thanks for talking with me, Faith.”

“I told you,” Faith replied sweetly from the doorway of the chapel, “I’m so happy you’re here.” And she swiped her thumb along her lower lip, like the dredges of a sweet-drink she didn’t want to forget, and John felt like he’d missed something important.

As Jacob brushed past him with one last meaningful look over his shoulder, John cleared his throat and asked, “Are you feeling alright?” just as Elliot caught herself from swaying on her feet.

“Me?” she repeated, and as she took a step forward it seemed to hit her really hard then, her hand flying out to stabilize herself with his shoulder. “I’m good. I’m pretty good, you know?”

“I don’t,” John replied. He reached up, brushing the hair from her face, and for a moment her eyes fluttered and she sighed. “Tell me.”

“Got food.”

“Mhm.”

“Got sleep.”

“Right.” John nudged her forward, walking her towards the bunkhouse.

“Got—” She paused, almost like she felt suddenly shy, opening the door and stepping inside. She looked at him over her shoulder, a little smile tugging at her lips. “ You. Don’t I, John?”

He thought very suddenly that he had been a fool to doubt Faith’s capabilities. A fool, certainly, and an even greater one to not have taken advantage of this sooner. Of course dunking her in a river bleeding Bliss had made her feel like shit. It was meant to disorient her. But this Elliot? Gently, sweetly catered into a bliss-buzzed reality?

“Yes,” he replied as her arms slipped around his neck. “You do.”

“Smell good.” Elliot nuzzled her face into his neck. She smelled like Bliss extract—like she’d taken a bath in it—and when she leaned up and kissed him leisurely, unhurriedly, she tasted like it too. It vibrated in his mouth, sharp and glittering and racing straight down his spine. “You left too many marks on me. It’s hard to cover up.”

“I’m sorry,” John said, even though he wasn’t sorry at all.

“You’re not.” She grinned against his mouth. “But you will be.”

The words sent an excited little thrill through him, anticipation prickling along the back of his neck. But he needed to stay focused; he needed to remember why Faith had done this for them in the first place. Not to get Elliot relaxed enough to actually enjoy herself, but to secure at least one aspect of their future that they could get their hands on.

He said, half-cocked grin on his face, “Is that so?” while Elliot nudged him to one of the chairs settled snug and comfortable in the corner of the bunkhouse. The table had been littered with her own belongings that she’d fetched from Fall’s End — her bag of clothes and things from the house, the two crates worth of supplies she’d hauled from the Spread Eagle. As soon as he was sitting in the chair obediently, she settled in his lap.

“Hey, El,” John said against her mouth, “what if we did something?”

“Kissing is something,” Elliot replied pleasantly.

“I mean,” he tried again, skimming his hands up underneath her sweater and down her back, “what if—we got—what the fuck is this?”

His hands hit lukewarm metal. He gripped it tentatively, feeling familiar ridges and lines, and pulled it out from where it had been tucked beneath the top lip of her jeans. 

It was a gun.  

In hindsight, John realized that it would have been stupid to think that she hadn’t grabbed weapons while they were in Fall’s End—she obviously didn’t think they’d give her any, and she was probably more right about it—but the absurdity of actually catching her with one on her was almost too much, in juxtaposition to the innocent way she was regarding him.

“A gun,” she said.

“I can see that,” John replied amusedly, making sure the safety was switched on before he set the gun on the table. “Care to elaborate?”

Elliot shrugged. The black of her pupils slowly ate away at the blue of her irises, until he thought that there could only be a sliver of them left now. “Not really.” And then she kissed him again, instantly pulling his mind away from the task at hand as well as the careful procurement of her firearm.

“You wanted to be—armed, walking around with my sister?” John rumbled against her mouth.

“Not getting caught unarmed,” Elliot replied. “Not again.” And she threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him, sighing into the liplock prettily and reminding him, again, why he was actually here.

John waited until he could feel the flutter of her pulse under his fingers before he said, “What if we got married?”

Elliot laughed. “Don’t be stupid,” she murmured, while his fingers traced the bruise he’d left the night before. 

“I’m not.” He kissed her again, distracting her for a moment. “What if we did?”

The blonde stilled and pulled back, regarding him with a gaze that was both unimpressed and confused. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t say anything, and she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Why?” she asked suspiciously. But John had been prepared for this question, because he knew it would come inevitably, and he leaned forward and tugged her down to kiss her again; her movements were more tentative now, as though she were trying to brace herself against him.

“I don’t want,” John said against her kiss, “you to be alone anymore.”

“Um,” said Elliot, sounding faint.

“And when this is all done with,” he continued quickly, “all of this stuff with—with the cult, you and I can get out of here.”

She stared at him. He could almost hear the sluggish churning of her mental gears, grinding and lurching against each other. In the time that he’d known Elliot, he’d come to understand that there were two things that she cared about: getting her friend, and getting out. And it was easy to promise both; by the time they got to the end of the line, it was time to make a decision about staying or leaving, Elliot would be so won over by him that she’d choose to stay.

What does anyone want?

“But what about…” She swallowed thickly and gestured with her hand. “What about—like—all the others—”

A person to belong to them.

“I want to be with you,” John said, low and easy. “I want to be yours, El.”

Her lashes fluttered uneasily. “John—”

“I want a home.” He studied her face. “With you.”

Come on, he thought as she worked the words through her Bliss-muddled brain. Come on, hellcat, come on, I know you want to.

“If you—I bet if you agree to testify,” she started, “then Burke could—”

“Cutting a deal only works if you can choose not to testify against me,” John told her. “You know that, El.”

She didn’t; she was only a small town deputy, but it didn’t matter. She nodded like she did. She was a small town deputy with nothing and no-one left, and now he was offering her what he thought she wanted the most: something. Someone.

“You said there was a John that you wanted,” he continued. He kissed her, his hand cradling the back of her head, and he felt her fingers fist the front of his shirt like she was afraid of disappearing. “I’m here.”

Voice barely above a whisper, she said, ��Okay.”

John nosed past her hair, kissing the slope of her jawbone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Elliot repeated. “I’m—yeah, I want—I want you to be… If you’ll go, when this is done—if you’ll cut a deal with Burke, and—”

A moment passed where she couldn’t seem to bring herself to say exactly what she meant. So he waited, and let her muddle through it, mouth twisting for a moment. A person to belong to, Joseph had said; he felt the absent fluttering of her pulse under his mouth. A person to belong to them.

“Then I want you,” she managed hazily, “to be mine.”

Mine. The word echoed pleasantly, over and over again, in his own voice. Mine. All mine.

“Of course,” John murmured against her skin, “all yours.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Evening came, and with it, a plethora of new problems: chief among them, sober Elliot.

That is to say, though John had hurried from the bunkhouse and fetched the marriage certificate Joseph had figured up for him, and though he had made it back in time for Elliot to dimly sign it, she was nearly asleep. Which left the question up in the air as to whether or not Elliot would even remember their conversation, or if it would feel like a strange dream to her, and if it did, what was he going to do? Tell her?

By the time she’d slept off her happy little trip, John had filed the certificate away for safe-keeping, and she'd come barging into the chapel.

“Hey,” he greeted her, noting the sharpness of her eyes, the way she cocked her head and rolled her shoulders. “Get some sleep?”

“Yeah,” Elliot replied, her voice coming out a little hoarse from the sleep. “What happened? I was so tired, I can barely remember leaving Faith.”

Jacob looked at John pointedly, his brain rapidly scrambling for a foothold. Now, in the face of Elliot-not-under-the-influence, he had the distinct feeling that his assumption she would not be pleased at the idea of being a Seed felt truer than ever.

He should tell her. He should. He should tell her what they’d agreed to, that she’d signed a marriage certificate to be “witnessed” by Joseph and Jacob and Faith, that she’d said she wanted him to be hers. If he trusted her, he would.

“Nothing,” John said lightly. “You came back from your walk with Faith, said you were tired and wanted to go lay down. You look pretty flushed, though.” He feigned concern, reaching up to touch her forehead. “Are you running a fever again?”

Elliot jerked back, startled by the gesture, as though the display of affection in front of Jacob was a shock to her. Trying to look as though she hadn’t just acted like a cornered animal, she said, “I’m—no, I feel fine otherwise.”

“Okay,” he replied. “Well—”

“Faith said you guys were having a meeting earlier,” the blonde continued. “About what to do with the Family. I need to be in on those meetings.”

Jacob scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“ I’m going to kill Kian,” she asserted firmly. “So I need to know what he’s up to.”

The two of them exchanged a glance for a moment. John said, “Elliot, are you sure you don’t—”

“Positive.”

“Well, sit down,” Jacob snapped. “Not gonna wait all fucking day for you.”

Relief immediately crossed her face. It was so potent in that moment that she didn’t even seem to have the heart to bite out a retort—Jacob’s venom meant nothing to her, not if she was getting what she wanted. Elliot sat herself down at the table and leaned over the map, stifling a yawn.

Jacob covered all of the information that he already had with John and Joseph in their own, which was just fine; John didn’t need to hear about how they’d dug up Ase Carnell, daughter of a Swedish hedge fund king who’d inherited her daddy’s billions upon his departure from his mortal coil. He didn’t need to hear about that, because instead , he could think about the way Elliot had said, I want you to be mine. How sweet she would be when she’d settled into being his wife, too; how delicious she would sound saying, come here, husband.

He was halfway through a daydream when Elliot broke him out of his thoughts. “Did we find out anything about them?” she asked.

“ We ,” Jacob said, pointing at himself alone, “found out that they’re no longer holed up at the camp, but they’re on the move. Like they’re heading out of town. Somehow, these people are well-funded, well-equipped, and they have nothing but time on their hands.”

“Ase told us that the end of the world was coming,” John clarified, “and that it was their job to help usher it in.”

“Well.” Jacob grimaced. “We can’t let them get out. We should choke them here on their way out of Hope County.”

“Do you think Kian’s there still?” Elliot asked. “After what he did to Joey, I—I have to think he’s really pissed off.”

“There weren’t any stragglers,” Jacob replied, “the camp was completely empty, and we haven’t seen anyone out on their own.”

“Then I’ll go cut them off.”

Jacob barked out a laugh, and when Elliot regarded him with an even, unflinching gaze, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re fucking joking.”

“I have guns,” Elliot insisted. “I can drive in a firefight better than any of you fuckheads. Just ask John.”

“Yeah, he told me about your little stunt. You almost killed Faith.”

“But I didn’t,” Elliot insisted, “ and I got valuable information, which was that they weren’t willing to kill her even if it meant killing us, so you’re welcome, you fuckhead!”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jacob bit out.

“Okay,” John interjected just as Elliot opened her mouth, “what if I went too?”

It wasn’t ideal. He didn’t really want to go on a happy little road trip to try and corner a murderous cult, he wanted to just let them fuck off and never come back, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that they had egregiously affected Elliot, and he had promised her, and if he went back on that promise now, the tentative peace they had come to would disappear instantly.

Whether she remembered the marriage or not.

His eldest brother stared at him for a long minute. John half-expected him to say no; after all, the whole point was to make sure they didn’t die, Elliot included, so that they could use her if something went awry after the Family was dealt with.

“Fine,” Jacob said after a moment.

“No!” Elliot protested instantly. “Fuck, God, no, I don’t—need a fucking babysitter.”

“On the contrary, I don’t know how you’ve survived this long without one,” Jacob replied. “John goes with you to choke them, or I go with you.”

Elliot’s mouth twisted in a vicious grimace. She tapped her thumb nail against her lower lip for a moment, her gaze sliding to him; their eyes lingered just a bit longer than normal, and for a second he thought she knew something that she wasn’t telling him.

“I’d rather drill out my own cavities than go with you,” Elliot said to Jacob after a minute.

“Great,” he said flippantly, “so you and John can have a nice little road trip down the highway—”

“Cool.”

“—and we’ll pin them in from the back. We’ve got enough explosives to light up the entire gaggle of them, but only once, so you’d better make it fucking count. Got it?”

Something was clearly brewing. It unsettled John, the way that she regarded him with a fixed, unreadable gaze. It struck John that Elliot hadn’t, in the last few days, mentioned anything about her plan, or her next move. It was the first time that he was not acutely aware of her intentions beyond revenge for Hudson.

What’s going on in that head of yours? He wondered. What’s storming around in there?

“Got it,” Elliot replied, at length. “So when do we leave?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot stood by idly while Joseph went about his work. His “work” being speaking in low murmurs to John and Jacob, hands on both of their shoulders, heads bowed together as he took them through what was certainly some kind of horrific disfigurement of a prayer.

Joseph had been pleased when she’d told him about that night in her apartment. He’d looked elated, to know the nitty-gritty details of her worst nightmare; of her then-boyfriend terrorizing her, for weeks, before breaking into her apartment. He’d been thrilled. He’d cradled her face and said, Don’t worry, Elliot. You’re safe now.

She had to bite back a laugh. Safe , like that meant anything to her anymore. Her apartment had been safe. Joey had been safe. And what had that gotten her?

Alone.

Alone, and with strange, broken moments of time. John had said that she’d gone straight to sleep, but if that was the case, she’d had uncomfortable dreams, too. Splintering fragments of what felt like a memory. John, kissing her, arms wrapped around her midsection: I want to be yours. I want a home, with you.

It was too much of a fairytale to have been real, she knew—John would never. He’d said it himself; he’d do anything for his family, and that meant dying, and lying, and squirming his way into her bed, and fuck him for being that way. Maybe she wanted him in her bed, and fuck him for that, too.

Because he had lied to her. Or at the very least, he hadn’t been entirely truthful with her. Elliot knew she’d taken her gun with her, and when she’d woken up, she’d seen it on the table.

“You’re not riding this time, bud,” she said to Boomer, the keys in her hand. “I don’t want you in the car if you don’t have to be.”

The Heeler gazed her, big brown eyes soft and trusting. His tail wagged softly in the dirt. If there was someone that was going to make it out of here, no matter what, she’d make sure it was Boomer.

“Elliot.” It was Faith’s voice. She had slipped up while the brothers spoke amongst themselves, smiling at her, small and tentative. 

“Hey, Faith,” Elliot greeted her, clearing her throat. A wad of anxiety rolled in her stomach at the sight of the blonde—something she wasn’t expecting, and that she couldn’t quite parse out. “What are you doing up so late? Or—early, I guess.”

“I wanted to see you off,” she replied sweetly. “You’re going to get that guy, right? The one that killed Hudson?”

She swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

“Good.” The blonde sounded oddly determined. “I hope he suffers.”

A wave of affection washed over her. It was an unexpectedly kind thing to say. “Me too.”

The brothers finished their convening, and as they divided—John to her, Jacob to a group of Peggies, and Joseph beckoning Faith to follow him into the chapel—Elliot felt something settle right in her, just under her skin, and John glanced back over his shoulder before he reached up.

His fingers brushed her jaw. She didn’t recoil the same way she had before, but steeled herself against the instinct to do so; the two combating urges to both lean and pull away. But she stayed perfectly still, and when John leaned down, she tilted her chin up.

Their lips brushed. She wanted to linger in the moment, to enjoy it, but she couldn’t brush off the creeping knowledge that he hadn’t been honest with her.

“Aren’t you excited to go on a roadtrip with me?” John said, his voice low as he kissed her.

Elliot tilted her head just a little bit out of his grasp. “So I can hear you complain about my driving?”

“Mean.” He smiled against her mouth. “Cruel. Wicked.”

“Are you trying to compliment me into submission?” Elliot asked, and then he kissed her again—slower this time, more leisurely; indulgent was the word he should have used for her, all things considered.

He looked at her for a moment, a little like he couldn’t get enough of her, and murmured, “Not into submission. Just complimenting for all the normal reasons.”

“Are you two leaving or what?” Jacob snapped from a few feet away. “We have time wasting.”

Elliot exhaled, sharp and tired, against John’s mouth, and he laughed, pulling away from her. He waved at Jacob before he walked around to the other side of the truck and climbed in; she hoisted herself into the driver’s side and rolled the window down and cranked the engine on. Everything she thought they might need had been loaded into the small space behind their seats—guns, ammo, what medical supplies she’d been able to take from Fall’s End, some food. She tapped a cigarette out of a carton she’d snagged and lit it.

“Really?” John asked, without heat, as she pulled the truck slowly away from the center of the yard.

“I’m tired,” Elliot replied, taking a drag of the cigarette. “If I am still sick, it’s really sticking with me.”

John was quiet at that, glancing out the window as they pulled out of the compound, and she whistled out the window and Boomer took off to dart through the underbrush like an arrow; dark and sleek and lethal. She could see his eyes glinting in the headlights as she turned onto the road and hit pavement.

“You shouldn’t have had to come,” she said. 

“I would’ve wanted to, even if Jacob didn’t demand it.” John glanced over at her, and for a second she thought he looked almost sly as he continued, “You don’t have to do everything alone all the time, you know.”

“Please don’t try and Atlas this thing, deputy.”

Jerome’s voice clattered around in her, vibrating each time it connected with some surface of her memory; but she didn’t let herself feel them, didn’t let them wander into her conscience, because if she did she would have lost herself to the grief.

“I know,” Elliot said quietly, tapping the ash out the window. “It’s just hard. I don’t—I’m not—”

“A team player?” he prompted, reaching over and taking the cigarette out of her hand so that he could take a drag for himself. Before she could correct him on what she was going to say— good at letting go —he snagged her free hand and in a surprising act of affection, brought it to his mouth to kiss her fingers.

“We’ll kill him, El,” John continued. He carried an easiness about him now that he hadn’t had before, like he was suddenly very relaxed despite the task at hand. “And then this whole nightmare will be over.”

The irony that John Seed was assuring her that the nightmare would be finished was palpable, and certainly not lost on her. Even if it was endearing, the way that he snagged her hand and kissed her knuckles, the way that he smoked her cigarette down, like she could get a secondhand-decompression from it.

“Yeah,” she murmured, “I know, John.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As soon as they hit the highway, the dark night sky stretching out above them, Elliot felt herself relax.

For the first time in a long time, she felt still ; as though all of that vibrating, all of that suffering, had ended, even if it was only for a moment. Even if that meant that John Seed was a part of the quiet.

“Remember the last time you were driving us somewhere?” John prompted from the passenger seat, rolling the window up against the chill of the late evening. “You stole my sunglasses, you smoked in the car, and then you tried to drive us into an oncoming car. With my sister in it.”

“This sounds like a lot of complaining for someone who’s still in one piece,” Elliot replied, hitting the cruise button on the truck and glancing out the window. She was going slower than normal, letting Boomer dart through the underbrush as he trailed them. He’d barely gotten half the amount of exercise he’d been used to since they’d been in the compound, so he was probably having the time of his little doggy life.

“I’m just saying, cruising at a cool twenty-five on an empty highway seems highly out of character for you.”

Elliot opened her mouth to say something, her head turning to look at John, but several things happened in very quick succession: Boomer barked, loud and sharp on her left, John leaned forward to look at him, and when John leaned, Elliot saw a dark, gray shape lurching its way from the far side of the road up onto the pavement.

Panic shot through her body. She slammed her foot on the gas, but it was too late; the van—and that’s what it was, a van —was quicker on the uptake and slammed straight into the back end of the truck, sending it tires-squealing across the highway and straight into a tree. The sound of crunching metal and glass breaking rang in her ears as her body lurched with the movement, wrenching against the steering wheel with a force that knocked the wind right out of her.

She was aware, vaguely, of airbags weakly deploying. Fucking Peggies, she thought through the haze of pain, fumbling with her seatbelt. And then her body kicked again: someone fucking hit us, fuck fuck fuck, oh shit oh fuck, her finger jamming uselessly on the mangled seatbelt clicker.

“John?” Elliot asked, as smoke billowed into the front of the car. The windshield was broken, and the engine sputtered dangerously.

“What—in the fuck—?” His voice was groggy, and through the smoke filling the cab of the truck and her own blurring vision she could see the dim shape of him moving.

The seatbelt finally released, and she fumbled blindly at John’s, ignoring the burning filling her lungs and stinging across her skin.

“John, we have to—John we have to fucking move,” she said, and then she heard the door behind her swing open; frantically she pushed at John’s seatbelt, trying to scoot away from the noise instinctively, but the second she felt a hand gripping the back of her shirt in a fist, she could feel the dread wadding up in her stomach. 

Elliot wrenched her body hard, not bothering to look before she tried to kick whoever was grabbing at her. The hand gripping her sweater went harder, another wrapping around her calf.

And then yanked. Hard.

There was no collision of body; no one was trying to catch her out of the truck, but just haul her out, tossing her like a rag doll onto the hard ground beside the road. It was the second time in as many minutes where the wind was ripped straight out of her, and she coughed, struggling to sit up.

A booted foot planted itself on her shoulder and pressed her back into the ground.

“Sit back, mor,” an unfortunately familiar red-head cooed, digging his foot into her shoulder until she squirmed. “Relax.”

“Fuck—yourself,” Elliot ground out, wrapping her free arm around the offending leg to try and get some leverage to pull herself out from under him. But Kian easily breezed past six feet tall, and probably weighed twice as much as her. He grabbed the hand gripping his knee with a kind of bruising force and twisted until she couldn’t bite back the cry of pain.

She could hear the sounds of voices on the other side of the truck, the sound of a car pulling up next to the wreckage, and Boomer barking furiously. 

John, she thought hazily, they’re grabbing him, and Boomer. I have to fucking—I have to get up, I have move, fucking move you useless fucking body.

“Did you get my gift?” Kian asked her, lifting his foot so he could haul her to her feet. Get out get out get out her brain was screaming when his free hand gripped her throat the same way it had done before. “Did you like it, mor? Picked out every flower myself and stuffed each one in. Her eyes —”

Elliot tried to throw her body weight one way, but to no avail; the images were already flooding over her. Joey, packed full of flowers. Joey, blooming from every part of her.

“—her mouth —”

“Stop,” Elliot begged, her voice coming out hoarse, grating on each sensitive part of her soul on its way out. “Don’t talk about her—”

“—her ribs and chest, those were the best parts to fill up,” Kian seethed. “Broke every one of her pretty little ribs and yanked them right out. Could not waste any space, could we, mor?”

He spat the moniker at her with venom. Where Ase had said it to her reverently, with adoration, caressing her with the single-syllable, he bit it out of his mouth: he sank his teeth into it, brimming with hatred.

Her vision fuzzed around the edges, and Kian dug his fingers into the soft skin of her throat. “Ase—said,” Elliot managed out, one last-ditch attempt at survival, “she said she was—she was waiting for me—”

Kian hauled her against the truck, all but throwing her against the dented and splintering metal as the smell of burning rubber filled the air. Every inch of her body was screaming , straining and aching, desperate for some kind of relief from the constant onslaught of pain.

“Ase,” Kian hissed out against her temple, so low that she almost couldn’t hear him, “is dead. Your man killed her. Or don’t you remember?”

Elliot wheezed. She did, but his grip on her throat was so tight that she thought she was going to pass out; there was no room to answer even if she thought that Kian wanted to hear it.

“We’re going to have fun, little one.” He punctuated each word as hard as he could, punching it out of his mouth. “We’re going to see how fast you can run. You and that man of yours. Did you know, mor —”

His fingers loosened on her throat, brushing over what she was sure was a bruise from John her neck, almost admiring. The sensation sent unpleasant goosebumps prickling along her spine. 

“—that I have intimate knowledge of the human body?” he finished. “So much time digging around in one, you start to figure out how to make someone’s life end quickly—or make them die a long and suffering death.” He smiled, the gesture out of place on his face; in another life, in another world, Kian would have been handsome, but in this lifetime the expression on him only looked jagged and sharp. Like it didn’t quite fit into his skin.

Elliot gathered up whatever strength she had left and spit in his face.

She hadn’t realized her mouth was full of blood, but in hindsight, it wasn’t surprising; watching the crimson splatter Kian’s face was more a happy little treat, albeit short-lived.

“You ugly fuckhead,” she gritted out as he wiped the blood from his face. “I’m pretty good at making sure people suffer, too, let me go first and we can—s-swap notes—”

Too late, she realized that Kian was banking on her mouthing off; he fished something out of his pocket and then shoved it into her mouth. It was a wet washcloth, the taste of it earthy and reminiscent of the lingering taste that had been in her mouth when she’d woken up at the camp before. She tried desperately to spit it out, but her jaw worked tiredly, exhausted.

“Much better,” he said. “I’ll tell you what: I see your color too, mor, and do you know what I see? Not white, not perfect balance like Ase said. You are gray. Oh.” He clicked his tongue, gripping her neck to pull her forward and then slam her back against the truck again, sending her vision spinning. “So sad, aren’t you? Don’t worry. You’ll bloom for me.”

Kian beamed at her, almost boyish, holding her with his vice-like grip.

“They always do.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Flashbacks & Forewarnings

A JSE Fanfic

There are a lot of different scenes in this one, but don’t worry, it’s not too long. About medium length for my fics, I’d say. First of all, we get a peek into one of JJ’s memories. Then we check in on Dr. Laurens and Schneep, see how they’re doing since it’s been a while. And there’s some minor other stuff as well. I know it seems like it’s a day late, but that’s because I’m moving my fic-posting day to Monday. Hope you guys like this one!

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

Midafternoon sunlight was streaming through the window. Jameson leaned over to look out the window, glancing downward at the street a few stories below. Then he took his watch out of his pocket and checked the time. Almost four o’clock already? It was almost time to leave. JJ began tidying up, starting the process of going home and getting things ready for the next person to man the desk.

“Hmm? Oh, are you leaving, Mr. Jackson?” Claire, the intern, noticed his cleaning up. 

JJ nodded. He paused for a moment, grabbing his notebook and pen from the surface of the desk nearby. Do you know who’s on the next shift?

Claire paused for a moment to read the question; though she was trying to learn BSL, she wasn’t able to hold a conversation yet. “Uhh...I think it’s Mr. Haddock,” she said.

That was what he suspected. Do you think you can handle things until he arrives? JJ asked. He didn’t want to put too much pressure on Claire—she was only sixteen, after all.

“Yeah, no problem,” she said. “Uhh...I just have to monitor the phone, right?”

JJ nodded again. Accepting phone calls was the highest priority part of the job, and also the only thing he couldn’t do. Sending emails, making sure things were filed correctly, getting things from the supply room, all that was alright. But not the phone, for obvious reasons. Luckily, answering phone calls usually fell to the interns. Don’t be afraid to ask Mr. Patterson for help. It should only be ten minutes or so until Timothy arrives, but just to be sure.

“Thanks, Mr. Jackson. Oh! Uh, wait.” Claire made a simple gesture. Thank you.

JJ smiled encouragingly. You’re picking that up quick!

“Really?” Claire brightened up. “Thanks!” She repeated the sign.

JJ stood up, gathering his stuff. I’ll see you tomorrow, he signed, edging around the desk and heading towards the elevator.

“See you.”

Now heading on his way down, Jameson checked his bag, pulling out his phone. Huh...it seemed he had quite a few texts from Chase. He scrolled through the notifications, ending up at the first one, which read: Hey J, remember that thing the detectives called me about ths morning? About Jackie? The second one read: Did you get my last text? The third one read: JJ i really have to talk to you about this. Should i call Marv first? And so on with increasing urgency.

Reading through the messages, Jameson could feel his pulse rising, tense. He’d almost forgotten about the events of that morning. A long day at work was bound to do that. The question had always sort of been lingering in his mind, though. They’d found some sort of break in Jackie’s case. That had to be a good thing, right? A pessimistic part of him pointed out that a “break in the case” didn’t always mean they’d found the missing person. Sometimes it meant they’d found the missing person’s body—

Jameson stepped out of the elevator, forcibly leaving that thought behind. It wasn’t the case this time. It couldn’t be. Even though he hadn’t known Jackie as long as Chase or Marvin had, he still knew him. And he knew he wasn’t the type to go down easily. Quickly, he opened up his texts and started replying to Chase. Sorry I didn’t see any of this, I was at work :( Just got off the lift now. What happened?

Chase didn’t respond for a minute or so, long enough for JJ to walk out of the building and into the crisp October air. But his reply came soon. Oh I forgot about that! Im so sorry.

No no, it’s not your fault. But do tell what happened. What did the detectives say?

The little typing bubble stayed up for a long time. JJ had arrived at the close-by bus stop by the time Chase finally said what he was planning. Uh...actually, can i call you about this? I know you cant answer, and you can say no, i just think itll be easier to say instead of type.

That...wasn’t a good sign. Sure? Jameson typed slowly. I can whistle or something if you need a response.

Immediately, his phone started ringing. JJ almost instinctively declined the call, but caught himself just in time and picked it up. Chase’s voice came through easily from the other side. “JJ? You there, bro?” JJ whistled a yes. “Okay good. Okay. Uhh...this is weird, not being able to see you. But anyway. The thing this morning. The good news is that Schneep’s first doctor showed up! So now he’s gonna have one that doesn’t hate him.” Chase laughed, a bit nervously. “But, uh, I dunno if she’ll go back right away. Because, uh...that’s the bad news. She disappeared because she got kidnapped. By the same person who kidnapped Jackie. And kidnapped Schneep before that. And...” Chase sighed. “You were right. The person who did that is this Anti.” He paused. “Are...are you still there?”

Jameson took a moment to react. And when he did, he hung up. So...it was him.

God, what were the odds? What were the goddamn odds that the two of them would end up in the same place once again?! True, this city wasn’t too far away from the town they lived in before. But he’d always thought Aneirin was the type to stay in a town like that.

Well, at least he didn’t know Jameson was here...

——————

Jameson set down his book, checking the clock. It was a little past eight at night. Naturally, his eyes drifted over to the calendar afterwards. It was a month behind, still reading June 2007.

The front door slammed open downstairs. JJ jumped, then slid a bookmark into the pages of his novel and stood up, heading out the door and down the stairs.

“Hey, Jamie.” Aneirin smiled at him as he came downstairs. “Picked up dinner real quick. Sorry for being late.” He set a bag of McDonald’s down on the nearby coffee table and sighed, reaching upward to make sure his eye-patch was in place.

It’s fine, JJ signed. You’ve been busy lately.

“Yeah, uh...speaking of which.” Aneirin cleared his throat. “I have to go out again later tonight.”

JJ slumped a bit. You sure?

“Yeah...work shit, you know how it is.” Aneirin shook his head. “But hey, I mean, without my work, we wouldn’t have a house, so I’ll take it.”

That was true. Though...Jameson still wasn’t sure what exactly Aneirin did for work. It had odd hours, and Aneirin was hesitant to talk about it, in a way that JJ had initially shrugged off, but was now starting to seem a bit odd. He’d been living with him for a year now, wasn’t it weird that he didn’t know what his brother did? Alright, JJ signed hesitantly. But you owe me.

Aneirin smiled. “I’ll buy you another book.”

I have a lot of books, Aneirin. I haven’t even read them all.

“Something else, then. Whatever you want. Within reason, of course.” Chuckling, Aneirin headed through the doorway into the kitchen. Inside, JJ heard the sound of the coffeemaker—a new addition—starting up.

Frowning, Jameson poked his head into the kitchen doorway. He knocked on the wood, but Aneirin didsn’t turn around, focused on the coffeemaker. “Aan...?” JJ called.

“Hmm?” Aneirin looked over at him.

You aren’t supposed to be holding hot things.

“Jesus christ, I’m not a baby, Jamie.”

Just...remember what happened last time? Jameson pointed out at him. You burned yourself. I’m just worried.

“Yes, but now I know what not to do.” Aneirin shrugged, and turned around. “Besides, the mug will stay on the counter most of the time. So no need to overreact.”

JJ frowned, but left anyway, heading back upstairs to grab his book. He’d move downstairs to finish it, just in case Aneirin ended up needing help.

A couple hours passed. If the past was any indicator, Aneirin would be leaving around this time. JJ made a big show of yawning, and glancing over to the couch where Aneirin was sitting, eyes fixed to the TV but not really paying any attention to the show that was on. Standing up and grabbing his book, JJ signed, I think I’ll go to bed now.

Aneirin responded, “Alright.” without looking away from the screen. Go to bed was one of the sign phrases he could understand even out of the corner of his eyes.

JJ headed up the stairs, slowing down once he reached the second story. He walked over to his room, opening the door and closing it without going inside, instead just waiting in the hall. Immediately, he heard the television downstairs turn off. Footsteps crossed the living room and headed outside. The front door opened and shut. Jameson put his book on the floor next to his room and carefully crept down the stairs, sticking near the walls to avoid the creaks. He made a slight detour to grab his cell phone from the kitchen drawer where it was kept. Then once back in the living room, he crouched close to the ground and crawled over to the front window, peeking outside.

In the driveway, Aneirin was checking something in the trunk of his car. Well, technically, Aneirin always called it “our car,” but he was the only one who drove it. JJ didn’t know how to drive yet. And even if he did, he didn’t have a job and it was the middle of summer vacation, so where would he even need to go? Or at least, those were some of the reasons Aneirin listed when explaining why he wouldn’t teach Jameson how to drive. JJ watched as Aneirin closed the car trunk, and started walking down the block, as he always did when he went out working late at night.

After making sure Aneirin was far enough away, JJ rushed out the front door and over to the car. He opened the door to the back seat and climbed inside, squeezing into the space between the seats where you would normally put your feet. They kept a spare blanket in the car, and Jameson reached over and tried to cover himself, attempting to make it look like the blanket was naturally falling off the seat. Then he waited.

Just a few minutes later, the driver’s side door opened, and he heard Aneirin get inside. The car soon started, and headed out, with Aneirin having no idea Jameson was in the back seat.

He was tired of not knowing anything about where Aneirin went. And if he wouldn’t tell him, JJ would find out by himself.

They drove for a surprisingly long time, long enough for Jameson to start aching from being in this uncomfortable twisted position. He couldn’t exactly tell where they were going from his hiding spot, but he didn’t hear anything unusual, apart from the occasional strange commercial on the radio channel Aneirin was listening to. But of course, the car eventually stopped, and Aneirin climbed out. The locks thunked shut after he left.

Jameson waited a few minutes before sitting up and pushing the blanket aside. Looking out the car windows, he blinked in surprise. This...wasn’t what he was expecting. Instead of being parked outside some building on the outskirts of town, the car was pulled into a small gap in between two large, looming buildings. There was no light coming from them, and only the faint, watery street lamp beams to illuminate anything. Why would Aneirin have driven here...?

After a moment’s hesitation, Jameson unlocked the car door and stepped out. He walked out onto the street, finding it lined with similar tall, wide buildings. Where was this place? Some sort of storage? Why wasn’t anything lit up? JJ shivered, reaching into his pocket to double-check that his cell phone was there. He should find Aneirin, make sure that he was okay.

He looked left down the street, saw nothing, and looked right. There was a group of three people standing beneath one of the weak street lights. With them being the only people in sight, JJ headed in their direction. Eventually, he started picking up voices.

“—kid’s been a runner for three years, cut him some slack.” An unfamiliar female voice.

“No one gets slack at all.” An unfamiliar male voice. “Not even us, Kelly.”

“Still, he does his job.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” And that...that was Aneirin’s voice. Though strangely, his accent, a bit Irish from the years he’d spent being a foster kid in that country, had thickened. “Just give me the green.”

Jameson ducked around a corner of a building, peering out at the group of three. A man, a woman, and Aneirin. He watched as Aneirin handed over a backpack, and the man handed him a case. What was this? It seemed...shady. Aneirin couldn’t really be involved in something like this, right? 

The woman leaned closer to Aneirin, lowering her voice so it couldn’t be heard from where Jameson was watching. But judging from the way Aneirin tensed, whatever she was saying wasn’t good news. Aneirin responded in an equally low tone, and the man suddenly laughed. “You?! Tiny thing like you? Obvious blind spot and likely to collapse at any time? Nah, lad, we’ll go with the professionals.”

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Aneirin bristled, and even from here Jameson could see the anger in his expression. “Easy there,” the woman said, her tone patronizing. “You wouldn’t want to fall down, would you?”

Aneirin lunged at her, and a scream rang out through the empty street. The woman stumbled back, turning enough so that Jameson could see the way her front was stained red. “You little—!” The man grabbed Aneirin by his jacket, and JJ couldn’t help but cry out.

He didn’t think it would be audible to the group, but both the man and Aneirin looked over toward him. JJ’s eyes widened, and he ducked behind the building. “Oh, you brought a friend, didn’t you, you little bastard?!” The man yelled. “Looks like you, too! Family field trip, is it?”

“Hey! Back off!” Aneirin snarled. It would’ve been intimidating, if not for the nervous crack in the middle.

“Oh no, I don’t think so!”

Jameson heard footsteps running towards him, and instantly took off, running down the gap between the buildings. But the man was much faster, and the footsteps grew louder. Jameson glanced over his shoulder, and the man was just a few feet away. He gasped, and pushed himself farther, turning onto another street, then running into another gap in an attempt to shake the man off.

“Don’t you run, you—AAARGK!”

The strange noise wasn’t enough to stop JJ from running. He continued to weave around the gaps in the buildings, until he arrived back at the one the car was parked in. He tore open the backseat door and practically threw himself inside, locking it behind him. He fell onto the floor of the car and stayed there, sitting, knees pulled to his chest and his heart pounding in his throat. His eyes were fixed on staring through the dirty glass of the car window.

A figure appeared there. Jameson made a strangled sort of sound, backing up. The figure knocked on the glass, then a flashlight turned on, shining into the car. Jameson blinked in the light, then squinted through it, recognizing Aneirin as the one holding the flashlight.

Aneirin pointed towards the driver’s side door, and disappeared, rounding around the car. The locks thunked, and Aneirin opened the door and climbed inside. “Jamie?” he called.

Jameson didn’t relax, but leaned forward, into the spot between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat.

“Oh my god!” Aneirin grabbed JJ’s head, one hand on either side, and pulled him even closer. “What were you thinking?! What are you even doing here?! Did you follow me? Why the fuck would you do that?! There’s a reason I don’t tell you what I do!”

Jameson was stunned into silence for a moment. He let Aneirin continue on in a similar vein for a while, then slowly signed, I was just curious.

“Curious?! I—” Aneirin leaned back, burying his face in his hands and taking a few deep breaths. “You can’t...do stuff like that, Jamie,” he said. 

...I’m sorry, JJ signed hesitantly.

“It’s...fine, Jamie, just...just don’t do that again.” Aneirin sighed, looking out the windshield. “Who knows what could’ve happened to you?”

Jameson fell silent for a moment, then awkwardly climbed into the passenger seat, settling into it. What happened to the man? And the woman?

“They’re...dead,” Aneirin said slowly.

Did you kill them? Jameson asked, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“...yes,” Aneirin’s voice was barely audible.

Why?!

Aneirin opened the car door and leaned over outside, picking up something on the ground. He pulled the case from earlier into the car and threw it into the backseat. “Because we need money to live and shit, Jamie, that’s why. Someone offers you a lot, and all you need to do is...go back on your word, then you take it.”

JJ shook his head silently, shocked. Aneirin...have you done this before?

Aneirin shifted in his seat. “What, go to a regular drop-off then walk away with two people dead? No.”

Silence fell. Jameson dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“What’re you doing?” Aneirin said, sitting up straight.

Calling 999, Jameson answered.

“Wh—no! You can’t do that!” Aneirin grabbed Jameson’s wrist, pulling it, and the phone he was holding, away. “Look, I know it looks bad, but there’s absolutely nothing to connect us to this. See? I’m wearing gloves, no fingerprints.”

Jameson stared at him, absolutely stunned. We can’t just let— he started to sign one-handedly.

“No, we have to. Jameson, if the police hear about this, they’re going to judge my place an unfit home, and me an unfit guardian, and they’re going to put you back in the system.” Aneirin tightened his grip on Jameson’s wrist. “I-I can’t let that happen! I can’t let you go back there! Who knows what’ll happen?!”

Jameson managed to pull his wrist away from Aneirin’s grip. They’re not going to put a seventeen-year-old into the foster system. I’m practically an adult.

“As someone who was recently seventeen, that’s debatable. And legally, you’re still a child. It doesn’t matter how close to eighteen you are, until your actual birthday, they’re not gonna let you go.” There was a strong bitter note in Aneirin’s voice. “I can’t...I’ve only had you back for a year, Jamie. After ten fucking years of wondering what happened to you. Please don’t...don’t leave.”

Jameson hesitated. Aneirin’s eyes were shining with a desperate light that could be seen even in the shadows the car was hiding in. And he had to admit, he didn’t want to leave his brother, either. He sighed gently, and put his cell phone down on the dashboard of the car. Alright, fine.

Aneirin practically wilted with relief. “Thank you so much, Jamie.” He twisted in his seat, starting the car. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

The car headed out, with Jameson and Aneirin sitting in silence. Jameson stared out the window, watching as they gradually traveled to a more well-lit part of the town. He expected them to head home. But instead, Aneirin headed to the town center, and parked outside a lit-up building. “Look,” he said, glancing in JJ’s direction. “I’m sorry about...the yelling, earlier. I was just stressed and worried. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was angry with you.”

Jameson exhaled slowly. It’s okay, Aneirin.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Aneirin promised. “Look.” He nodded at the building they were parked outside.

Wait...JJ’s eyes widened. We’re going to Tompson’s?

“Yep.” Aneirin smiled. “Ice cream sounds good after tonight. Luckily they’re open late. You can get whatever you want, whatever size.”

Really? Anything? JJ asked doubtfully. Tompson’s was known for being relatively expensive, but also delicious. They usually saved it for special occasions.

“Of course. It’s on me.”

JJ looked back out the window. He started nodding, slowly at first, then faster. Well, alright then. Can’t do that in the car.

Aneirin laughed. “Course not. Hey, not even gonna say thank you?”

Jameson exhaled softly, and rolled his eyes. Aneirin was always like this. “Thhnk yu-yuh. Annn.” He could’ve signed it, but if Aneirin wanted that, he would’ve said ‘sign.’

“You’re welcome,” Aneirin smiled. “Now let’s go.”

The rest of the night was rather nice. Jameson almost forgot what had happened earlier. Almost. It turns out, these events would not be forgotten easily.

——————

...Jameson was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of his text alert going off. Jameson?? Are you oaky?? Whyd you hang up? Chase asked. It was quickly followed by a *okay

I’m fine, Chase, JJ replied. I just had to think for a moment.

Are you actually fine or just saying that?

Jameson thought hard about this question. I won’t lie. I’m a little...He paused, wanting to type out ‘scared,’ but that might be a bit too far. That was probably something he should talk over with his therapist on Monday; now was not the time to unload everything. ...shaken, hearing about this. But I’ll be okay, I promise.

Alright, if your sure, Chase said. But if you ever need anyone, Im right here.

Thank you, Chase.

The city bus finally pulled up to the station, and JJ hopped aboard, pressing his bus pass to the card reader before taking a seat. He stared out the window as the bus started rolling again. He couldn’t help but glance behind him, even knowing that nobody would be there.

——————

A few days passed, and Monday morning dawned cold and rainy. Dr. Laurens opened her umbrella as soon as she got off the bus, holding it with her unbroken arm. She sighed quietly. Well, looked like she had to walk to work today. And for a while, actually, until her arm was healed enough for her to drive again. She’d better get used to it.

A few drizzly moments later, Laurens stepped inside the main doors of Silver Hills. Awkwardly closing her umbrella, she walked up to the front desk. “Hi, I need to see Dr. Newson, is she in?”

The orderly at the desk looked up, and her eyes widened. “Oh my god, Rya?!”

“Hey, Theresa,” Laurens said, smiling tiredly. “Is Newson in?”

“Yes, I-I can page her—mother of god, what happened to you?” Theresa asked as she started messing with her pager. “You disappeared! Are you alright?”

‘Alright’? Well, that was debatable. The broken arm was not ‘alright,’ and Laurens was pretty sure there was a lot else that would not fit into ‘alright.’ But she’d waited this long. She’d spent time in the hospital, then practically begged to go home so she could get used to being on her own, without having to worry about threats to her life. But still, she couldn’t stop thinking about getting back to work. She knew Newson had taken over Schneep’s case, and she knew Newson hated him. How could she just stand by and leave this situation alone? So, if by ‘alright’ you meant ‘functional and willing to help others,’ then yes, she was alright. “I’m fine, thanks,” Laurens said. “Should I just wait for Newson here?”

“Uh...yeah, that would be great.”

Laurens took a seat in the reception area, looking around. It seemed a bit surreal to be back here after...everything with Anti and Jackie. Like she was last here years ago, instead of just a few months.

About five minutes later, footsteps came down the hall, and Laurens stood up as Newson appeared. Newson’s eyes immediately locked onto her, and she froze. “Wh—Rya?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Laurens stated.

Newson gaped at her, then rushed over to stand in front of her. “You’re okay! Oh my god, I—we were so worried!”

“Really?” Laurens asked, not bothering to hide the surprise in her voice. “I mean...from what I remembered, you were probably going to fire me—”

“No! I mean—I—” Newson stammered. “I didn’t want you to—look, I may have made a bit of a rushed judgement that day, and I...would hate for that to be the last thing I ever said to you. You truly are great at your job, a-and a great person as well. And I’m not going to fire you.”

“Great,” Laurens nodded. “In that case, can I take my patient back please?”

“Wh—” Newson seemed taken aback by the question stated so clearly. “I...mean...”

“Because I don’t believe that your methods work well with him,” Laurens said, voice and expression deadpan. “Unless something has changed in the two months I’ve been gone.”

“I...” Newson cleared her throat, collecting herself. “Of course you can take the case again. Do understand that I—hello, can I help you?”

Laurens turned around. A tall woman in a black raincoat had just entered the reception area, carrying a briefcase. “Actually, yes,” the woman said. “I’m looking for Dr. Jennifer Newson.”

“That would be me,” Newson said, patting down her coat and smiling cordially. “Do you need something?”

“Ah. My name is Aja Bakshi, I am from Henson & Singh At Law.” Bakshi set her briefcase on the reception desk, opening it up and slapping a piece of paper covered in type down on the surface. “My client wishes to sue you for malpractice, negligence, and abuse of power with your position. This is the notice, details are included on it, as well as my phone number.”

Newson was left speechless. She just stared at Bakshi, absolutely shocked, her wide-eyed gaping expression somewhat reminiscent of a fish. Laurens had to bite back a smile as the thought occurred to her. “Uh...” Newson finally said. “Who...who’s suing me?”

“Details are on the notice, Dr. Newson,” Bakshi said calmly. “We have scheduled a court hearing for the 23rd. We expect to see you there.” And with that, Bakshi snapped the briefcase closed, and turned on her heel and left, door swinging closed behind her.

“Uh...Dr. Newson, are you alright?” Theresa asked.

Newson didn’t answer, instead picking up the paper and scanning it over. “Maher...?” she muttered. “I know that name...”

“Well, I’ll leave you to that,” Dr. Laurens said. “For now, I’d like to see my patient. But I seem to have lost my keycard.”

Newson looked up sharply. “Uh...right. I’ll call Oliver Hopkins, he can take you to the room. Can you get a coat on with your arm like that? Dress code, and all. We have some in—”

“In the back room, I know,” Laurens said. “I’ll meet Oliver there, then.”

About ten minutes later, Laurens had made her way to the back room and pulled on a white coat over her cast before replacing her arm in her sling.

“...Doc?”

Laurens glanced over, watching as Oliver rounded the corner. She smiled. “Hello, Oliver. Your phone is poking out of your pocket, by the way. Be careful.”

Oliver laughed, and wiped his eyes. “Holy shit, you’re okay. I mean, your arm, but. You know.”

“I do know, thank you,” Laurens chuckled. She then sighed. “Anyway, I wanted to check on Schneep. I don’t think I’ll be able to start a session until tomorrow, after I get all the stuff sorted out for coming back, but I...just want to see if he’s alright.”

Oliver winced. “That’s a...that’s a good idea.”

Listening to his tone, Laurens was suddenly shot through with worry. Part of her had wondered if her concern was a bit strange, especially for a therapist-patient relationship, but that one sentence was proof she was justified. “Alright...let’s go down to his room, then.” Laurens turned and started down the hall.

“Uh, Doc?” Oliver called. “He’s not in his room. He’s in the quiet room.”

Laurens stopped, turning around to look at him. “...well,” she said. “Let’s get him out of there, then.”

“Yeah, uh. Good idea,” Oliver muttered. “I should probably tell you that he’s been in there a couple times, and he...doesn’t react well to it.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Laurens muttered, already heading down the hall in the other direction. Honestly, they should just call the room what it actually was: solitary. She supposed it wasn’t a bad idea in principle; sometimes the more hostile patients needed a place to cool down where they couldn’t hurt anyone or themselves. But in situations like this, locking someone in a room alone did more harm than good. Especially now that she knew what had actually happened to Schneep in the nine months he disappeared.

The door to the quiet room looked identical to all the other rooms in the older wing of the hospital, with the only exception being that it didn’t have a room number. But once Oliver opened the door, it became clear what made this room so different. It was the only place in the entire building that had its walls padded, and there was no furniture inside except for a bedframe with a mattress but nothing else. Laurens stepped into the room, looking around. She quickly spotted the figure curled up on the floor in the corner. “Schneep?” She called softly.

Schneep had his arms wrapped around his head, but upon hearing his name, he flinched and moved them enough to see out at her.

“Hey, it’s me,” Laurens said, keeping her voice friendly. “Remember me?”

“Hm.” The small sound wasn’t a confirmation or a denial. Schneep’s eyes darted towards the doorway, with Oliver standing in it.

Laurens looked back towards the doorway as well. Get out of sight, she mouthed. Oliver looked hesitant, but stepped to the side, out of view. Laurens looked back towards Schneep, taking a few steps forward. “Schneep, I need you to answer me. Do you remember me?”

“...Jackie?” Schneep said, his voice hoarse.

“No, I’m not Jackie,” Laurens said. She took a few more steps forward, then got down to kneel on the floor. “You’re not with Jackie right now. You’re in the hospital, remember?”

This seemed to confused Schneep for a bit, but he loosened up, uncovering his head as he realized Laurens wasn’t a threat. “Hospital...” he muttered. “Which one?”

“Silver Hills,” Laurens said.

A short pause. “You are...not lying?” Immediately after asking the question, Schneep laughed. “You would say you are not, either way.”

“I wouldn’t lie about where you are, Schneep,” Laurens said quietly. “I wouldn’t trick you like that.” She paused for a moment, gauging Schneep’s reaction. “Do you need anything?”

“Do I...?” The question threw him off for a bit. “I...I do not want to be here. No, no. Not here.”

“Alright, then let’s go.” Laurens held out her hand, palm-up. Schneep flinched away for a moment, but then reached out and grabbed it. “We’re going to stand up now, okay?”

Schneep nodded, and Laurens unfolded herself from her kneeling position, awkwardly doing her best to stand up without using her arms. After a few moments of trying, she succeeded, and helped pull Schneep to his feet. He immediately stumbled, leaning against her. Laurens gasped slightly, noting the cloudy look in Schneep’s eyes and the way he was shaking a bit. There was no reason for him to be this heavily sedated. “How’re you feeling?” Laurens asked.

“Hmm...cotton,” Schneep said.

“I see. Can you walk?”

“I...I think so, yes.” Despite this assertion, when Laurens started to walk, Schneep only stumbled and almost fell.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Laurens said. “I’m going to call someone who can help, alright?”

“Al...yes.”

Laurens looked toward the doorway. Oliver had poked his head into view, making eye contact with her. She nodded, and he came into the room, silently lifting Schneep into a carrying position. Schneep didn’t protest. “We’re going back to your room, Schneep,” Laurens said. “Okay?”

Schneep paused. Then: “You are the doctor.”

“Yes, I am a doctor. So are you.”

“I know. I mean, you are...you stopped coming,” Schneep mumbled.

Laurens nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t want to. I would’ve kept coming if I could. But now I’m back.”

“Very good. Good that you are alright.” Schneep sighed. “Can we please leave here?”

“Yes, we’re leaving right now,” Laurens said. She started heading to the door, glancing back to make sure Oliver and Schneep were following her. They were.

She sighed gently. This was Newson’s fault, she knew it. But now, hopefully, they wouldn’t have to struggle with that for much longer.

—————— 

“Siri, what does GCS stand for?”

Jackie suddenly snapped to attention, almost hitting his head on the corner of the table. God, he hadn’t even heard Anti come into the room; he must’ve been buried deep in a daydream. Though, honestly, he couldn’t blame himself for that. It was much preferable to be in a daydream world than reality right now. In a daydream, he was able to forget about the cotton taste of the gag in his mouth, and the awkward angle his arms were handcuffed behind his back and around a table leg.

“Okay, I found this on the web,” said the robotic voice of Siri.

Anti was lounging on one of the apartment’s armchairs, dressed in an outfit that...wasn’t exactly his usual style. Jackie was oddly reminded of the way Chase dressed. Anti’s green glass eye had been replaced with a blue one, but he still had the old watch around his neck. “Three to five is good, then,” he muttered to himself. Anti glanced up, noticing Jackie staring at him. “Expecting something, hoodie man?”

Jackie flinched, and looked away, fixing his eyes on a water stain on the wall. He heard the sound of Anti shifting position, but didn’t look back.

Thwack!

A silver blade embedded itself in the wall inches from Jackie’s nose. Jackie cried out, flinging himself backwards and hitting his head against the table leg. Anti laughed. “God, you look like you just had a heart attack!” He paused. “Actually...Hey Siri, what do I do if someone has a heart attack?”

“Okay, I found this on the web.”

Jackie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to take deep, calm breaths. It was difficult, to say the least. Part of him wanted to shout at Anti, ask him what he wanted with him. The rest of him knew that would be a terrible idea, even if he could speak.

This wouldn’t last forever, would it? Something had to change. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

[love-fireflysong]

Until Dawn’s Fifth Birthday

Welp, congrats Until Dawn, you’re officially old enough to start kindergarten. You’re off to learn to read, tie your shoes, recite yous ABC’s, and learn to count to 100. Your such a big kid now, and I’m proud of you for making it this far.

I know I have done literal jack shit for the entire month, but I have been immensely enjoying the things that everyone’s been putting out for this month. So I’m gonna make this text post, not just because of it’s the five year anniversary, but because it’s actually a post I’ve been wanting to make for a while.

So here it goes:

I first learned of Until Dawn when it first came out hilariously enough. My roommate at the time had boughten it for her ps4 and I had been seeing it all over my dashboard on tumblr at the time. I didn’t play it myself though until close to a year later, when I finally had my own ps4 and I bought the game used for like $20 or something from my local game rental store. And I was hooked.

I remember jumping the first time the UD logo pulls that jump scare on the title screen. And laughing because I’m normally pretty good with jump scares, but that one managed to get me because I hadn’t been expecting one before I even started the game. (The one thing in the game that manages to make me jump every time is the mine cart you stop as Mike. For whatever reason it doesn’t matter how dark my room is when I play the game or how many times I’ve played it, I can never see the mine cart until its literally on top of Mike and the QTE is almost up and I squeak in surprise every fucking time.)  

Of course I didn’t manage to save everyone during my first playthrough, I definitely lost Matt to the hook and Ash to the trapdoor (RIP darlings), and for the life of me I can’t recall how the lodge scene at the end went. I’m one of those players though that try to make choices that the characters I’m playing as would, I throw my feelings by the wayside. For example, being in the shed when the game’s making me choose Ash or Josh, and I was debating on whether or not Chris would save the girl he’s had a major crush on for a while at least, or his best friend for the last ten years. I distinctly remember wincing and sucking in air through my teeth and going “Sorry Ash, bros before hoes” and choosing Josh. And then being confused and convinced that I misunderstood the instructions? I mean I wasn’t complaining, just really, really confused. I definitely choose Ash to live at the gun one though, like there was no hesitation. I watched the whole ‘only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my time’ scene and talk and the moment control was given back to me, the gun was under Chris’s jaw and I fired.

I’m also one of the players that didn’t know that Josh had been behind everything until the reveal either. I had gotten Sam captured so I never got any of those clues and I managed to miss the other clues that hinted at it being a set up (like the bundle of newspapers). So until the reveal I was still convinced that someone was out there killing all of them. Listen, I like mystery games but I’m not very good at connecting the dots okay.

I think I stuck around for a couple of months, gorging myself of fanfiction (all ff.net stuff by the way, I can’t remember if I knew about ao3 at that point or not) but like all interests do with me, the obsession eventually faded (helped in a large part by the rampant Ashley hate going around at the time) and I moved on.

Until February of this year. I was trying to kill time till the end of March when Persona 5: Royal released and I decided to try and see how many games I could platinum until that point. I had made it through the ps3 tomb raider games, Prince of Persia 2008, and decided on replaying the Uncharted games because the ps4 collection didn’t have multiplayer trophies. I hadn’t even thought of replaying Until Dawn. I mean, I had looked at the case and I remembered the game fondly, but that was it. There was no urge or want. 

I was halfway through Among Thieves when I was bored and chilling time on Youtube. And because I had been watching a couple of videos for the treasure locations in Uncharted, one of the recommended videos for me was a game sins for the series. I decided sure why not, and watched it. And watched a few of his other ones as well, Until Dawn included.

That’s right, what got me back into the series wasn’t fond nostalgia for the characters or story. It was a fucking Game Sins video. I’m so sorry.

I was devouring UD content again. I spent like 2 or 3 weeks reading everything Chrashley (with the hyper-fixation for the game back came the ship, what can I say) based on ao3 that I could get my hands on. I was back into the tag on tumblr, going through art I remembered seeing way back when and looking at usernames that didn’t mean a thing then, but mean the world to me now. And then near the end of February, when the obsession was once again starting to flag, I decided to hell with it, and clicked on the The (Almost)s.

I’m not going to expunge all my praises for the story, everyone else has done that better then I ever could. But guys, it was so good. So so good. I was hooked back into the series once again, just as I was starting to flag. And when I saw that @queenofbaws had mentioned that she was tumblr... I didn’t do anything right away. Too scared really, figured she might find it creepy, so I didn’t do anything for like a week. And then I decided fuck it, sent a message about Chris giving Ash his sweater, and following her.

And that was it. I figured I would stick around to see the story completed and just dip. Not even make a splash, just enjoy the content from the sidelines and no one would know that I was here in the first place. Same old, same old. But that was also when I started turning around the kernel in my mind that Baby It’s Cold Outside (so hold me tight in your arms and don’t let go). I didn’t even intend to write it, it was just going to be the fanfic that lived in my mind for me to stew on before bed every night. But I couldn’t sleep one night, my brain was too on and the words just weren’t stopping, so I pulled out my computer and wrote the first part from Chris standing in the snow outside to him reaching the lodge at like 3 in the morning. 

I started becoming more involved in the fandom when queenie started her wip wednesdays and asked to be tagged. Hilariously enough, those days are what started me cross-stitching again too, I hadn’t touched the pattern in months at that point. So I started posting snippets of my writing, and that one day a week was the only thing pushing me to continue writing. By that point, I had stopped hanging around the edges, now trying to push myself closer into this little fandom circle. 

The day I posted the story, I was fucking terrified. It wasn’t my first story, not by a long shot, but I had always considered my writing to be shit. I thought I had good ideas, but I never felt that I was able to truly bring them to life. English and grammar had never been my best subject, I was always more of a math and physics person growing up. But then that first comment from @elliepollie came in and I almost burst into tears. I couldn’t believe that someone out there liked it so much, that they were willing to leave me a review in the first place. I’m still so blown away that she was willing to recommend it as a Chrashley story for other people to read. I think that was the point I stopped hesitantly pushing my way through, and I just kicked down the doors and just yelled ‘Hey fuckers! I’m here now and you are going to fucking deal with it!’.

That was the event that opened the floodgates for me. Suddenly I was talking to people, I had friends online with the same interests as me. I’ve written more in the last six months then I’ve done in the last ten years! I’m feeling inspired to create again. I actually went out to do the first commission I’ve ever requested (speaking of which, please please please go commisson @fudgeroach. I cannot wait until he can post and show you guys the stuff he drew for me. It was worth every fucking penny let me tell you.)

I’m going to be honest, Until Dawn isn’t my favourite game. Sure it has some of my fav lines (it had been years since I played the game, and the moment Jess started her rant outside the guest cabin I was screaming it along with her) and great characters, as horrible people as they all are, but it’s never been my favourite game and likely never will be. But Until Dawn has the best fandom I’ve ever been in and I’m so, so happy to have met and known every single person here. I seriously love every single person here so, so much. You all make my life better and I’m so happy to have all of you in it. Just to quote Chris because I can: “Every second I spend with you is all I ever wanted to do with my time.” This is how I feel. This is how I feel every goddamn day now.

So yeah, I got back into this fandom from a stupid Game Sins video. But by god if it wasn’t the best choice I’ve ever made.

(PS: for those wondering, I never did finish Uncharted 2. Maybe one day...)