#and the rest of the bar is made up with fisherman

[midnitecafe]

enjoying some adult beverages with some friends after a long day at sea

[gravegoer]

MORE SEVIKA X SIREN I BEG

I hear your call [P2] ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ

HALF OF MY INBOX IS SIREN READER !! dw, i got you guys. ( also i got a lot of love in my inbox. !! thank you so much for the support. youre so sweet , im looking at 🍃 anon ily ) summary: sevika saves your scales.

masterlist , part 1 2.1k words part 3

The night after you met Sevika, you followed her ship, even throughout the darkness. The celebratory crew could be heard on the deck, along with the clanking of glasses and music.

Although this wasn't what you were interested in, you were interested in a certain captain. You assumed she didn't bother with the celebration and got bored swimming alongside the ship.

Eventually, it had come to a stop in the late night, now sitting in the dock of a well-populated island. You eyed the people that stepped off, and your gaze landed on Sevika.

She was hard to miss, her large stature and intricate outfit stood out amongst the crew, ultimately declaring herself captain. There was a sort of swagger in her walk, perhaps from booze or maybe exaustion.

Whatever the case, you were interested.

You couldn't get too close to land, deciding to lurk around the harbor instead. You ducked under the water upon hearing any movement or voices. Being this close to population was no place for a siren, especially such as yourself.

Any fisherman or pirate alike would take take you up and pawn you for a pretty price. So you heeded in your movements. Luckily, you were a skilled enough swimmer that you made little to no sound whilst in the water, barely leaving behind a ripple.

The sun was just now rising, and you assumed Sevika would be looking for a place to stay the night. There was no way you could wait around that long for her to come back. But that doesn't mean you didn't want to.

To your delight, a group of men swarmed to talk on a dock near you, and their conversation was full of exactly what you wanted to hear.

Sevika.

They were pirates looking for a crew, and from the looks of them, quite experienced pirates.

"She's headed to Shank's motel. Shall we give her a visit?"

"This late at night, man. You've got to be spewin' some blige. She'd flog you just at sight."

"Aye. Migh' as well wait till' morn' "

You grew closer to their spot, itching to hear more. Your head nearly bumped against the old wood due to your closeness.

Suddenly, a hand was in your hair, but unlike Sevika's, it was clammy and gross.

You screeched at the intrusion, being pulled out of the water.

A fourth man.

How could you let your guard down so easily?

"Now, what's a stupid lass like you doin' so far out at bay."

You crained your head up to be met with a severely shredded bald man. You clawed at the hand on your scalp and thrashed. The sting threatened to bring tears to your eyes, and you opened your mouth for a song.

The knowing man slammed your face down onto the wood, stopping you in your tracks.

"Fuck. This one be a siren, but the harder the catch, the more the prize is what I say."

Another voice came from your left.

"Knock 'er out, and I'll grab a net."

A blunt thwack was heard before your vision went dark.

..

Sevika had tied her boat to a post before leaving her crew to find a place to eat, preferably not a bar where she knew the rest of her men were headed. Having enough to drink, she sat at a stand selling calaloo and threw a few dabloons on the counter silently, waiting for her meal.

Her mind wasn't on anything except for you. The ruler of the Seven Seas was enamored with a mer-person.

How fitting.

She thought about the way your eyes sparkled when she told you stories, looking at her like no other. How your cold hands were so gentle when you touched her. Your soft lips against hers.

I mean, how much deeper could she fall.

Having been so engrossed in thought, she barely noticed the whispers around her. Barely. She, of course, was the talk of the town.

She intimidated people just by taking a seat next to them, so casual yet making everyone at the stand turn to glance at her. It wasn't often that Sevika bothered with mundane tasks such as eating anywhere but a bar, and nobody really saw her face anywhere except for wanted posters.

Although it was a picaroon town, and there was no way anyone there would bother to turn her in or snitch, she still pushed her plate away and got up to fend off the prying eyes. (Picaroon means pirate)

Her buckled boots thudded against the dirt road, now on the way to the nearest inn. She was almost desperate for a nights sleep without rocking on the mad waters.

Upon entering, a large man stomped past her, eager to get somewhere, she was just about to grab him and slam him into the nearest counter before her attention was interrupted.

"Them chowder-headed fools caught themselves a real jem, aye?"

"Heard theys' puttin' 'er up for auction"

That was never a pretty thing to hear. It either meant low-life pirates snagged themselves an expensive treasure, or worse, a living treasure. But it wasn't rare that a fisher or pirate just so happened to find a large, human-like fish in their net and put her on the market, so Sevika paid it no mind.

She did linger on the fact that it might be the one person on her mind at the moment but quickly shook away those thoughts. You were smart, quick. Theres no way any man would have you that easily.

When she approached the counter for a key, the shop-keep laughed, "What? You want a room? I think you ought to pay the stands a visit, its the first auction in a week."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at his words, her head dipping into her previous thoughts again.

I guess it wouldn't hurt to make sure.

So she drug her tired and heavy legs right back across town for the sliver of a chance that it might be you.

..

You awoke with a harsh throbbing in your head, feeling cold and dried up. Through blurry vision, you could make out the steel bars, closing you in. And a loud voice,

"Another bid for 300 dabloons !"

Fuck. It's what you've been dreading all your life. You got caught due to your lack of awareness and clumsiness. Inwardly cursing at yourself, you grabbed at the bars and shook violently.

"Look, she's awake. How do we feel about upping the price now that we can see her pretty eyes."

The man stuck his fingers in your enclosure and tilted your chin up. At that moment, you became aware of the metallic muzzle on your face, keeping your jaw in place. You glared up at him, knowing you'd bite him if you could.

He pulled away when you jerked your head forward, as if making the motion to bite him. He laughed loudly, and another bid came from the crowd.

"500!"

The men yelled and whooped at that. You thunked your head against the bars, the loudness ringing in your ears. You can't believe you got yourself in this mess for a pirate.

It was just hollering and laughing for a while before the man beside you spoke,

"500, Aye? Going once.. going twice.."

"A thousand."

A heavy female voice stood out amongst the rest, sounding angry and tired. Your eyes darted around, looking for the source of the voice, but another shrill voice spoke up.

"1000? Is this woman kidding? 1500."

The men's laughs roared in again, smacking the mans back and slinging booze. A tall figure stepped out of the shadow, cigarillo in hand, and spoke, "Double it."

All went quiet as they eyed Sevika, her arm crossed over her chest as she brought a mechanical hand to her lips to take a drag. She blew the smoke from the side of her mouth, making a taller male cough.

Your eyes widened, and fingers gripped the bars steadier. When you made eyecontact, you could have sworn her eyes went soft for a moment before she looked to your captor.

"Well.. any final bids..?"

He spoke seemingly frightened and pleased with himself all in one moment.

Nobody spoke against Sevika, as a captian never had a bounty over their head for a reason. And her bounty was hefty.

There were no protests as she pushed her way through the crowd, seemingly more violent than usual. She put her cigar out on someone's forehead, the small tiss, standing out against silence.

Her boots clunked as she ascended the stairs and plopped three brown bags atop your cage. You looked up at her, but she wasn't looking back. Her metal hand was grabbing the key from the mans hand and pushing him backward in one motion.

He stumbled, but you looked away to eye Sevikas human hand swiftly unlocking the cage. She held her hand out to you, dark hair shadowed her eyes, and hid her expression from you.

She was who you were here for.

You hesitantly grabbed her calloused hand, and immediately, she lifted you into her arms. Now, looking into the crowd, her menacing expression was highlighted by the dim torches that surround the stands. Her cape was draped over your tail and bare torso, shielding you from the cold, and more importantly the people.

As she was stepping down the stairs, she saw your muzzled mouth, and her expression got a tinge darker. No words needed to be spoken as she balanced you with her human arm and knee, tearing the straps of the muzzle off with a sharp finger.

It was almost instinct to hum a siren song, but before your vocal chords could start, you saw her expression and buried your face in her sturdy torso. It was the look of warning, a warning that you obeyed.

Pirates gawked at the sight of her carrying you past the crowd of people. Nobody dared to reach out and touch you. Some people didn't even dare to look at you. You kept your gaze on Sevika's clenched jaw and torn expression. The angles of her face were more prominent at this angle, you would blush at the sight but your nervousness didn't allow it.

Her grip on your tail was firm, yet gentle, human arm cradling your torso without complaining about the coldness. You weren't one to be drawn to the warmth of a human, but found yourself pressed closer against her body. You now shut your eyes to rid of the feeling of stares and judgement.

As she carried you down the dirt road back to the inn, she spoke in a frustrated tone, "You are the stupidest fish ive ever met."

"And you're the sappiest pirate ive ever met."

..

When Sevika stepped into the inn with you in her arms the keep gawked at you. You were cradled like a baby, weightless in her hold. She kept a stern gaze as he passed her the keys with a room number attached "56".

The people that sat in the inn waiting room averted their eyes, shrinking under Sevika's cold grey eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed, making you want to reach up and rub the wrinkle between them.

She walked up old rickety stairs, almost bending under your combined weight and turned left down the hall to the room. It was surprisingly quiet, and you were able to hear the woman's ragged breaths. Sevika was obviously worn out and tired from her day, and still came to your rescue.

How heroic.

She effortlessly shifted you to one arm, making sure your head was steady against her shoulder and creaked open the wooden door. Your tail barely brushed against the ground, her height compensating for the length.

"I need—," you spoke, before she cut you off with a grunt.

"Water. I know."

Opening the door to the bathroom, she sighed at the size. It was almost too small to fit her large frame and your long tail.

Dropping you into the tub gently, she turned the knob for cold water. "Want me to sprinkle in salt?"

You genuinely couldn't tell if she was joking, "No, no it's okay," You laughed, humming at the feeling of water on your tail.

"Why did you let yourself get caught," Sevika said, more as a statement than a question.

"I wanted to find you.. and I succeeded.. mission accomplished?"

She shook her head and bent down to accommodate for the space between you. She put a warm hand to your cheek, eyes soft and almost concerned, "Don't go looking for me like that again, danger follows me closely."

You giggled at her seriousness, despite being roughed around and almost being sold as fish food (or worse) you felt somewhat at ease. The woman at your side brought you a strange feeling of comfort, comfort that the sea never brought you.

"I guess ill just have to follow you closer."

i already have ideas for part three.... hehehehehe

again, thank you for the asks they are sweet ! and comment if you want to be on the taglist for part 3 , i do have some other works in my drafts but im saving them for when i finish this series :) but asks are open !!!

@misswynters @haruko--bby @thesecondhandwoman @theirlaliengirl

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Finish Line || LS2

Summary: A farewell fic to Logan because I'm a sookie and miss him already. Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader (living in America) WC: 4k

Summer Break 2021

Your mother always said, “Nothing good is easy and nothing easy is good.” To an eighteen year old fresh out of high school you thought she was referring to studying and exam results, not the more impactful experiences you would face once the red brick walls were left in the rear view mirror. 

It would only take a matter of weeks to learn the real meaning.

Loving Logan wasn’t easy but it was impossible to stop the feeling of falling that came soon after meeting him. From the moment you met there was an indescribable connection but the paths of your future were heading in completely different directions and you knew at the end of summer you would say your goodbyes.

In the meantime you would enjoy what the weather had to offer and what better way to emancipate yourself from the innocence of youth and broadcast to the world that you were an adult than a girls road trip to Miami? You may not have been old enough to drink but that didn’t stop the college guys on summer vacation from keeping you and your friends well supplied. 

Looking back, it only proved how young and naive you were. 

“Dalt, I really shouldn’t be here,” Logan complained as a red cup was thrust into his hand. “I could get in so much trouble for this.”

“Relax, bro, you’ll be fine.” His older brother clapped him on the back happily. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The beach house was right on the waterfront and Logan stepped out onto the white sand to dip his toes in the warm water. He didn’t know who’s family the place belonged to but Dalton seemed to know everyone by name. It only made him feel even more left out and he thought maybe he should have just stayed in England for the summer break. 

The house was stifling with the humid temperatures compounding to a sauna with all the bodies inside. The beer had started off cool but it had warmed in your hands and began to taste disgusting so you abandoned it into the hands of a stranger passing by who swiftly chugged it back before shouting the Greek alphabet you assumed was the name of his frat house. You had certainly bitten off more than you could chew and debated catching a Greyhound bus home where you felt safe but you wouldn’t ditch your friends who were absolutely in their element.

The beach wasn’t like any you had seen before arriving in Miami. The sand bars were tiny pockets of islands and each property seemed to be its own space divided by narrow canals that lead to dry docks for their expensive boats. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked the stranger who sat in the sand at the water's edge. It was impossible to ignore each other’s presence when the rising tide had left such little space.

“It’s a free country,” he said with a small smile, his palm quickly swiping away the picture he had drawn in the sand. 

“I don’t know about that. Sometimes it feels like a prison. Sorry, that was really morbid.”

He laughed and tipped his head back to the sun that still beat down despite being late in the afternoon. “You’re not wrong though. I love coming home, but sometimes I’m glad I don’t live here anymore. I don’t know how to fit in with that,” he said looking back at drunken revelers who had stripped down to their swimwear despite having no inclination to actually enter the water. 

He looked like the rest of the guys there: tanned skin over a toned body and dirty blonde hair hidden by a cap he wore backwards. The southern drawl also confirmed the fact he called this place home. 

“Where do you fit in then?”

His shoulders shrugged as he picked at a desiccated chain of Neptune’s necklace that had washed up on the beach. He busied himself with plucking each individual bead off the seaweed and flicking it back to the water. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“A Formula One racing driver, or a fisherman.”

You buried your toes in the sand, wiggling them to dig deeper where it was cooler. “I thought the all-american dream was to be an astronaut?”

You met his blue eyes and saw the amusement that sparkled in them. “I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted with a grin before he held out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“I think we are beyond names here, I already know your hopes and dreams,” you teased, shaking his hand. 

“But I don’t know yours, yet.”

“I can give you my name, but as for hopes and dreams, I have no idea what I want to be. I’m still trying to figure that out.” You realised his hand was still in yours and gave it another small shake. “I’m Y/N.”

As the sun fell below the horizon the party grew larger and soon it spilled into the slice of paradise you had carved out with Logan. Sand was kicked up as two guys tackled each other to the ground and Logan threw a protective arm around you before they could crash into your side.

“Back it up bro,” he said as he rose to his feet and pulled you up too, tucking you in behind his back. “You could have hurt somebody.”

“Aw, Sargeant, is that your girlfriend?”

Logan ignored them and turned to check you were alright. His eyes scanned over your body and slowed on their ascent before he cleared his throat and met your eyes again. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You scanned the crowd and spotted two of your friends dancing and the other sat on some guy's lap, smiles on all their faces. You couldn’t disappear and make them worry but you didn’t want to stay as the party only grew more chaotic. “Yes, please, I’ll just tell my friends I’m leaving.”

You weren’t going to attempt to get amongst the gyrating bodies so instead headed to Dakota. The guy sitting beneath her noticed your arrival first and grinned at Logan as he stepped in beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You’re leaving aren’t you? Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“You two know each other?” you asked. 

“Only since birth,” Logan answered. “This is my brother, Dalton. Dalton, this is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said before turning your attention to your friend. “I’m going to head off, Kote. Logan said he can drop me off at the apartment after dinner.”

“Are you sure? I can take you back if you want.”

You laughed and leaned into Logan, enjoying the warmth that came as his arm curled around your waist. “I’m good, someone needs to make sure those two get back.”

You both looked at the twins who had found dance partners and knew the rented 4 bedroom apartment was probably going to double in residents by morning. With a resigned sigh that she didn’t really feel as the group mother, Dakota nodded. “I’ve got them, you two have fun.”

The wink she sent you off with made your cheeks heat but you hadn’t actually planned on doing what the action implied. Of course Logan was attractive, and the thought of taking him to your bedroom was one that had you melting, but you were quite happy just enjoying his company too. 

“Are you hungry? I know this great spot but it’s a bit of a drive from here.”

Out in the street where the sounds of the thumping bass couldn’t reach your stomach rumbled and you smiled sheepishly. “Just a little.”

The restaurant he knew was on Key Largo, about an hour south of where the party was in Miami Beach and you were amazed by how many bridges had been built to connect the keys. It would have felt a bit scary driving over the ocean if it wasn’t for Logan recounting stories of growing up in the state. It was a good distraction to listen to the fondness in his tone as he remembered fishing off the now-closed piers that he pointed out. 

“I think this is where you fit in,” you said as he cruised along the highway in his pickup truck, the radio quietly playing an RnB station in the background. It was warm enough that the window was down and the breeze blew his hair back like a runway model.

He glanced across the car and lifted a questionable brow. “In Florida?”

“No! Behind the wheel. You look, I don’t know, comfortable? No, content, that’s the word.” 

On the beach Logan had shared how he was halfway through the season of Formula 3 in Europe and had hopes to join an F1 team in the future. It was also when he mentioned returning to the country he currently lived in, four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean. Despite only just meeting him, you felt the four week countdown arriving like a dark storm cloud.

Those four weeks flew by almost as quickly as you fell in love. 

Summer Break 2024

The soy milk screeched and you winced at the sound before saving the new girl, and the coffee, from the machine. Thankfully it wasn’t scorched as the shop was already full with the busy morning foot-traffic and you wanted to keep it flowing for the customer’s sake. 

“Soy latte with a shot of hazelnut?” A hand went up and you passed the takeaway cup over. “Have a nice day.”

You looked at the next order stuck to the bench and immediately searched for the customer, a smile splitting your face when you found him. “Baby, you’re home! Why didn’t you call?”

Logan ducked under the staff counter and met your embrace with strong arms that pulled you to your tiptoes. “I called, but you must have been busy here. God, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

You checked your phone in the pocket of your apron and saw the missed call before slipping it over your head. “Marie, can you keep an eye on everything?”

“Yeah, course, hun, take your time,” the part time barista said with a wave. “Welcome home, Logan.”

“Thank you.” 

You dragged Logan eagerly through the swing door that stated ‘staff only’ and past the break room to the disused office at the back. “I’ve missed you so much,” you managed to say between the desperate kisses you shared as he kicked your door closed. 

“Missed you too.”

Your hands reached beneath his shirt and he chuckled breathlessly as he caught them before they could move any further. “Tempting, sweetheart, but not here.”

You pouted as you draped your arms around his neck instead and held him tight. “I have the studio booked in 20 minutes, did you want to come?”

Logan rolled his eyes at the stupid question and didn’t bother to answer as he tucked his hands into the back of your jeans and buried his face in your hair. “You smell like blueberry muffins,” he hummed happily. 

“I can steal one,” you offered but when you pulled away he quickly pulled you back with a shake of his head.

“Diet.”

You grabbed the flesh on his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath. “You’re perfect, baby, one muffin isn’t going to change that - but it will make you happier. Go grab a seat in the staff room.”

You walked him back down the hall and let him settle into the couch while you grabbed a muffin from the front counter. Most of the rush had quickly cleared and with the lull in orders you made him his favourite drink. 

“You spoil me, sweetheart,” he said with a gratefully smile as you placed the plate and cup on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You sank into the couch beside him and watched him pick apart the muffin, finding all the blueberries to eat first. He could feel your eyes on his hands as they fiddled with crumbs but before he worked up the courage to explain why he caught a flight two days earlier than planned. “What’s going on, baby?”

He exhaled a heavy sigh and wiped his hands clean before taking yours. “I think it’s over.”

Your heart cleaved apart and your ears started ringing as your world came crashing down. There was only one semester left in your art programme before all the plans the two of you made would come to life - plans that started with moving to England with Logan. Plans that were crumbling down.

“It’s over?” you repeated as silent tears streaked your face and your hands slipped from his.

Horror bled into Logan’s features and he snatched your hands back, placing them over his chest where his heart beat rapidly with panic. “Not us, never us,” he rushed with a harsh shake of his head. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are my everything.”

You sagged with relief as he wiped your eyes but the relief was short lived as you understood what he meant and the phantom pain in your chest returned. “Have you spoken to James?”

He nodded and leaned into your touch as your palms ran up his chest to cradle his face. “It’s not good.”

To hear the defeat in his voice was something you never wished to hear again. It was a sound that no 23 year old should make, he was too young to feel the immense pressure he was under and a weaker man would have been broken by it. But Logan was strong, mentally and physically - he would recover from this, you would make sure of it.

“Come on,” you whispered as you rose to your feet and tugged his hands. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“But you have class.”

You grabbed your handbag from your locker and tossed him the car keys. “This is more important, and I can paint anywhere.”

—

The drive to Miami took most of the day and the frown on Logan’s forehead seemed to soften as the arid air turned humid and the paddocks turned to swamp before he sped through Alligator Alley. The top 40 charts played quietly on the radio and Logan hummed along with the ones he liked while he held your hand on your thigh. 

A contented sigh of relief exhaled from deep in Logan’s chest as the sunset and the city lights illuminated the horizon. Though he was tired to his bones, just the sight of his home was enough to rejuvenate him and he sat up a little straighter before taking the exit that would lead him to Fort Lauderdale. 

Madelyn and Daniel were already expecting Logan and the front door opened before he could turn the engine off. It had been a while since they last had Logan home and you felt a little guilty since most of his returns to home soil were to visit you instead, but they didn’t hold it against you. Madelyn was just happy that there was someone who loved and supported Logan as much as she did.  

It was immediately clear that she wasn’t aware of his current struggles as you saw him hide behind a confident smile as she asked how everything was going. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” he admitted as he closed his bedroom door after dinner. 

You placed your bag on the floor and took a seat at the headboard before patting the spot beside you. Logan flopped down on the bed and rested his head on your thighs while his long legs hung over the edge, looking up as if you had all the answers. 

“You could never disappoint them, Lo, they just want you to be happy. And, you're worrying about things that haven’t even come to pass. We don’t know what the second half of the season will bring.”

“I know you are being reasonable, but I can’t help thinking this is the end. Everyone else thinks so too.”

“You mean everyone on X, formally known as twitter,” you said with a roll of your eyes that made him chuckle. “How about no social media for the whole break? Just disconnect from it all for four weeks.”

“And what happens at the end of the break?” he asked quietly, sensing deja vu from the last time he asked this three years ago. It was an eerily similar state too with his head on your legs but you were on the white sands instead of a bed. You had already fallen in love but he was due to fly back to Europe and you would be getting in the car with your friends and heading home. He had forever changed you that summer.

You combed your fingers through his hair as you relived the same memory. “We will be grateful for the time we had together.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he sat up so he could pull you onto his lap. “I’m not letting you go again.”

“I should hope not,” you stated as your knees settled either side of his thighs and you reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. “Now say goodbye to this, I am having you all to myself.”

He plucked the phone from your fingers and tossed it to the side table before putting all those glorious muscles to good use. The room spun until he caged your body beneath his and he gently kissed his way across your collarbone. “You already have me, sweetheart.”

–

A sick twisting feeling gripped your gut as you waved goodbye to Logan through misted eyes. No matter what you had said, you could feel his stress growing as the break came to an end and now he was going back alone. You wished you could go with him.

The drive back to your apartment was too quiet but you couldn’t listen to the radio because the songs he would have hummed to would only make you miss him more. It always took days, weeks even, to reacclimate yourself to the loss of his presence when he left. It never got easier but the memories made were worth it.

The days dragged by as classes began again and the repetitive routine of life was reestablished. Finally it was the weekend and you could curl up on the couch and watch Logan’s practice on F1TV while you were surrounded by paintings of him. There were two new additions that had come back from Miami, one capturing his happiness as he reeled in a bluefish and the other capturing his perfect features as he sunbathed shirtless, that one was purely indulgent.

“Oh no, Sargeant has taken a big shunt into the barriers there.”

Your feet slammed to the floor as you jumped out of your seat and stumbled closer to the tv as if you could reach through it and help, but you were helpless to watch as Logan remained in the car in the middle of the track - red flags waving. 

“Come on, baby, get out of there,” you begged as you heard his radio saying he was okay, but then the back of the car ignited into flame. You were screaming for him to get out as George’s car rolled by, his hands gesturing wildly for Logan to get out too before he finally was free of the seat harness and jumping out over the halo. 

You finally breathed a sigh of relief but it didn’t last as the camera cut to Logan leaning on the barriers, his head hung in defeat despite the helmet hiding his face. You knew your boyfriend better than anyone, you knew exactly what was going on inside his head and you knew you had to do something.

The credit card Logan had given you years ago had been left discarded in the back of your underwear drawer. He said it was for you to use but you had never been with him for the money and even as a broke uni student you hadn’t used it once. But this was an emergency, and if you were ever going to use it then you could be damn sure it was going to be spent on him.

One quick email was sent to your professor begging for an extension due to a family emergency before you packed a bag and booked the first flight out to Amsterdam.

With shaking hands you typed a message: I’m so glad you got out of there, baby. I’m on my way and I love you so much xxx

You knew he wouldn’t be able to reply for a little while since he would have to get back to the team garage, and there would be other responsibilities first like having a medical check and debrief, but you sent it anyway along with the flight numbers so he knew where you would be and when. It was going to be a long day with the 13 hours of flights plus the change in timezone but nothing was going to keep you from getting to Logan before the race tomorrow.

–

A stranger with a whiteboard greeted you at the airport and the exhaustion of the trip faded away when you reached the paddock with a pass in hand and stepped into the Williams garage. Bodies of mechanics moved in sync as they rushed around the car preparing it for the race that was due to start in a few short hours but it was one man that was standing among them that drew you closer. 

“Lo,” you greeted softly behind him on raised tiptoes. 

A wide smile split his face as he turned to embrace you, lifting your feet off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Hellow, sweetheart,” he breathed against your skin before inhaling the familiar scent of your perfume. 

Your hands tightened on his waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you okay?”

He pulled back and his smile faltered. “I’m better now that you’re here.” 

You reached up to trace the curve of his cheek where his smile had been but his team principal called his name before you could feel the shadow of his beard on your palm. “Can I borrow you for a minute?” he asked Logan before spotting you, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Hello, Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, James,” you replied politely before stepping out of Logan’s arms and giving him a little nudge in the right direction. “I’ll wait over in hospitality.”

Logan spent what time he could with you, reassured by the feel of your arms wrapped around his neck and your cheek pressed to his as you sat on his lap in the single chair that furnished his driver room. The thin walls did little to dampen the noise of the motorhome and the crowd beyond but for a few minutes Logan could forget it all and the pressure that came with it - until the clock ticked away the precious minutes alone and reality returned.

“I have to score a point today,” he whispered like he was confessing a sin and he tipped his head back to stare at the roof. “No point, no seat. That's the deal.”

“Can they do that with your contract?”

“They can do whatever they want, sweetheart. I’m lucky they let me go this long without contributing.”

You cupped his face and tipped it forward so he was forced to look you in the eyes. “There are more ways to contribute to the team than just scoring points. You spend hours in the simulator every week so they can get their precious data.”

“And then I go and cost them $250k when I crash,” he laughed humorlessly and dropped his forehead to yours. “I think this is it. I’m tired and it’s so hard to enjoy it now. That’s the worst part out of all of it. I used to like my job, it was all I wanted to do.”

Your thumbs caught the tears that clung to his lower lashes. “What do you want now?”

“I honestly have no idea, I just know I want to be wherever you are.”

A knock at the door interrupted the promise you were going to make and someone in a William’s shirt said it was time to head back to the garage before ducking back out of the room.

“I love you” you whispered between the kisses you traced across the bow of his lips. “I want you to go out there today and forget James and points and all that stuff and just enjoy the race. I have watched you give everything to this team but today I want you to be selfish, okay? Enjoy it out there or it’s all for nothing, no matter the outcome. And when you get out of that car I will be waiting for you, arms wide open.”

Logan closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath before he captured your lips in a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. Resolute and proud, he stood up and placed you on his feet before grabbing his cap and slapping it on his head. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

[writingquestionsanswered]

Describing Scene Locations

Anonymous asked: I've been writing for a decade, mostly short stories, and have recently started writing a fantasy set in the 17th century. My setting is a world pretty much like ours, but with made-up names for specific towns and whatnot. The characters are pirates, and a few are non-human. I'm finding it difficult to figure out where certain plot points take place when the story is mostly character-driven. There are parts where they need to be on land, but apart from 'vague port/island', I don't know what else to do with it. (Am I overthinking this?) I suppose my question is: How specific do secondary locations have to be for it to be immersive and realistic (for their world) without it being lackluster or overdone? I don't want it all be "it's a beach with a village," but adding a giant seaside kingdom seems overkill if it's only mentioned in passing once or twice. Thank you so much for taking the time to answer these - this whole blog is a gift, really.

[Ask edited for length]

First, thank you... that is very kind of you to say! ♥

So, I think it really helps to think of your story in terms of scenes, and to think of each scene almost like a scene in a play. Your scene's setting is like the stage in the play, and the amount of description is the amount of scenery and props on the stage.

If you've been to plays, you've probably noticed that the scenery can be very minimal or very elaborate, depending on the needs of the show:

With fiction, it works the same way. How little or how much you describe the scenery (setting) depends on the needs of the scene, but you do need to make sure to give the reader a sense of place. Looking at the first image, just with the little bit of scenery that's there, we know this scene is taking place in a home, perhaps a living room. If the two men were just sitting on chairs with no other scenery, we wouldn't have that sense of place.

However, that doesn't mean that any of your scenes need to be set in sprawling seaside kingdoms. There are all sorts of land-based settings for pirates:

-- bustling port town like Port Royal or Tortuga -- coastal village, town, or city -- isolated island or cove -- small fishing village -- seaside castles or estates -- pirate's stronghold on a hidden island/cove/cave/bay -- tropical jungle or rainforest -- remote island -- colonial outpost -- swamps and marshlands -- rural countryside -- ancient ruins

There are all sorts of reasons pirates might go ashore in these places:

-- to resupply (food, water, liquor, gunpowder, ammunition) -- to buy specific items (weapons, clothing, equipment for ship) -- to sell, trade, deliver, hide, or bury loot -- to hunt and gather resources -- to recruit crew -- to maintenance, repair, or refit the ship -- to meet with allies, informants, business partners, etc. -- to visit friends/acquaintances -- to avail themselves of various goods and services -- to drink in a bar, gamble and carouse with friends -- to enjoy some much needed rest and recreation -- to learn or exchange information -- to seek medical treatment/medicine/remedies -- to seek legal assistance or meet to discuss legal matters -- to "case" a potential target for a raid -- to visit family and love interests

Within these settings and potential errands, there are many specific settings you could use:

-- the docks of a bustling port -- the tavern of a coastal village -- a quiet moonlit cove where pirates are laying low -- the great hall of a seaside castle -- a masquerade ball at a country estate -- the crumbled ruins of an ancient civilization in an isolated jungle -- at a freshwater lagoon on a remote island during resource stop -- busy market at a colonial outpost -- fisherman's shanty in a quiet bayou -- an official's luxury town home in a big city -- the coastal farm belonging to a family member

So... having the different locations in mind, how much or how little do you describe them? Once again, all you have to do is create a sense of place for the reader. If your pirates are having a heated argument on the docks of a busy port town, you may at least want to give a vague description of the docks, whether it's night or day, what the weather's like, how crowded it is, and maybe a brief sampling of what the crowd is doing, notable sensory details (sounds, smells, visuals) etc. You can also weave those details into the narrative in a way that serves a dual purpose. For example, maybe in the argument, one pirate gestures to a toothless fish monger and uses them as an example in a point they're trying to make. Not only is this a necessary part of the dialogue, but it also fills in some of the scenery detail. Or, maybe instead, they're perusing spices in a bustling seaside market while they talk/argue quietly. Here are some posts from my description master list that will hopefully help further:

The Right Amount of Description (5 Tips!) The 3 Fundamental Truths of Description Description: Style vs Excess/Deficiency How to Make Your Description More Vivid Adding Description to Your WritingWeaving Details into the Story Guide: Showing vs Telling When “Telling” is Okay

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[nights-legacy]

Gift from Eywa Pt. 1 - Neteyam

Main Masterlist ~ Avatar Masterlist

Spoilers, if you have not seen Avatar The Way Of Water!!!!

1912 words

Part 2

Warnings: anxiety attack, mentions of Neteyam's Death.

+ Losing Neteyam was hard on everyone. Especially his family and soon to be mate, you. Near the anniversary of his death, you start to see things. Like hallucinations of Neteyam being there. You think you're going crazy but in reality, it is something very different.

It had been about a year since the battle at Three Brothers Rock. Nearly a year since I lost Neteyam. It still hurts and I still cry every now and then but I've grown to accept his absence. I had followed him here when his family fled and I stayed even after his death. He was my mate to be and they were my family, I would never abandon them.

I rolled my eyes as Lo'ak tripped over the edge of the walkway, falling into the water. Tsireya and I kept walking, laughing as he sputtered in the water. I could hear Ao'nung teasing him before another splash turned our attention.

"How?" I asked Upon seeing both boys in the water with a net over their heads.

"Gotcha!" I jumped and saw Tuk jump out doing a happy dance. I laughed and looked at Tsireya.

"Your brother and future mate." I teased.

"Oh you!" She lightly hit my shoulder. She went to help the boys.

"I'd help but I really need to get these meals out to the fisherman out past the East shores. I'll see you later!" I called.

"Bye!" She waved. I nearly made it to the sand when Tuk came running up.

"Can I go with you?" She asked, holding her hands together with a pout.

"Oh, I guess. Here carry this one for me." I motioned to the small basket on top of the other one I was carrying.

"Yay!" She cheered before grabbing the basket. She skipped ahead while singing some tune. It was a bit of a walk to where the fishermen were at. 

We were just about there and Tuk ran ahead. I chuckled and called out for her to be careful. Movement in the corner of my eye pulled my attention. On a sandbar, just a little ways off shore was a Navi male. I shielded my eyes from the sun to get a closer look at who it could be. I stilled, not believing my eyes. If I didn't know any better, I would say it was for sure Neteyam.

"Nete..." I whispered. The Navi turned toward me as if he heard me. A heat wave distorted his appearance for a second and then my heart fluttered at the familiar sight.

"Hey, sweetheart!" I quickly looked to see Jake atop a sand dune with Tuk, waving me over. "Come on."

"Coming!" I called. I looked back to the sand bar and saw no one. I looked around confused. The water wasn't disturbed around the area and the sand itself was smooth as if no one had been standing there. I jogged over to Jake and he took the basket from me.

"You alright, sweetheart?" He set a hand on my shoulder, looking at me worried.

"Yes. Just a bit hot." I assured him.

"Okay. If you're sure?" He asked. I nodded. "Alright. Go sit in the shade before heading back, both of you. Cool off for a bit."

"Okay." I agreed. He kissed Tuk's head before walking off. I sent one last toward the sand bar before heading towards the shade.

~

The Sully's decided to have a family day and invited Tonowari and his family as well. We were all at a small private cove after a leisurely fly. My ikran was playing with the others and the ilus a little farther offshore. The adults were lounging in the shallow water while the rest of us were out in deeper water.

"Catch me if you can!" Lo'ak yelled before splashing us. He drove down and swam away. We chased after Him for a bit. I veered off after a little bit to venture through the reef. I giggled as I was visited and nuzzled by some small fish.

Ahead of me just a bit, a small school of fish were scared off by something. A hand reached out from behind some plants and pulled themselves forward slightly. Before me was Neteyam again. I was in disbelief as he cocked his head to the side and smiled at me.

Neteyam? I signed and he nodded. He waved me over before backing out of sight. I quickly swam forward and rounded the corner... there was nothing there. I swam around a bit and found no sign of him. A hand was placed on my shoulder and jumped back into the reef. I flinched as I was cut up a bit. I turned to see Kiri.

Are you okay? She signed. I looked around and nodded. She came over and inspected my shoulder and pointed toward the shore. I went reluctantly.

~

A feast was being held for the anniversary of the defeat of the Sky people and a memorial for the lost in the battle. I was sitting in a hammock off to the side and just watching the festivities. I was nibbling on a sweet treat that Tseriya insisted I have when Neytiri came over to pull me to dance.

"Neytiri!" I whined but followed nonetheless. After a long, tiring dance I retreated to the side again. 

It was late and I decided to turn in. After saying my goodbyes and goodnights I slipped away. I headed towards my marui but as I got there, there was someone standing in the entrance. I paused midstep, squinted at the figure.

"Who's there?" I called out and moved forward slowly. I thought about going back to get Jake or Lo'ak when the person responded back.

"Welcome home, Yawne." They said, The familiar voice struck a chord in my heart. Neteyam looked over his shoulder with a smirk before walking further in. I ran in after him only to find the space empty, There was a subtle trace of his scent in the air.

"No... why... I don't under..." I was so confused at what was happening. Why was I seeing Neteyam everywhere? So many emotions hit me all at once and a sob escaped my throat. Wails and sobs forced their way out as I cried and let out the frustration from all this.

I dropped to my knees as I cried. I doubled over on myself and wrapped my arms tightly around myself. I began to cry so hard that my breathing became irregular. I began to hyperventilate when I heard someone yelling behind me.

"Hey! Hey! Breath. What's wrong, sweetheart?" Jake appeared in my vision. He looked scared. I couldn't answer him as I began to choke. He helped me sit up. "Shit. Come on. I need you to breathe. Please!"

"Cc-can't." I was able to force out as the corners of my vision blurred. He said something else but it was muffled. Before anything else, I promptly passed out.

A cold sensation on my forehead woke me up from my dreamless slumber. I reached up and batted at the cold sensation.

"Yawne She's awake!" Someone called softly. I pried my eyes open and saw the ceiling of the tsahik's marui above me. I looked off to my left and saw Tonowari kneeling next to me. Ronal came in quickly and took his spot.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, brushing a hand over my head.

"Alright. A bit groggy but okay." I answered honestly. She nodded and began to check me over. Not long after, Jake & Kiri came running in.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" Jake asked, kneeling on the other side of me. Kiri sat at my feet.

"Okay. What happened?"

"You passed out. Dad found you crying hysterically and you began to hyperventilate before passing out." She ran a comforting hand over my ankle.

"Sit up child." Ronal instructed. Jake helped me up and Ronal began to check my head. "Has anything strange happened recently?"

"Well actually..." I sighed.

"What is going on?" Kiri asked.

"Well, lately I've been having I don't know how to describe it... hallucinations maybe? Visions?"

"Of what?" Ronal set a hand on my shoulder. I didn't answer right away.

"Of Neteyam." I said softly. "It's like I'm seeing him everywhere. On the beach, on the reef, in my home... but everytime I see him he disappears just as quickly. It feels like he's actually there. I even could smell his scent this last time and and... I feel like I'm going crazy."

"No, child. There has to be an explanation. It could be due to the anniversary of his death and stress of the memory that comes with it. Grief has been known to play many tricks on the mind."

"I don't know..." I sniffled and leant into Kiri's side as she moved up next to me. She began to run her hands through my hair.

"We'll figure it out. Don't worry." Jake said. He squeezed my hand in comfort with a smile. I nodded my head and closed my eyes.

Later that day, I was walking down the beach with Ao'noug and Tsireya. I held my wrap around my shoulders as they argued about something. I hardly paid attention to them. I let the sea air calm me as I walked along wading in the shallow water.

"Shit..." I heard a voice speak faintly from somewhere followed by faint coughing. I looked back at the siblings to see if it was them or if they noticed but they were still arguing. I continued on until the sound of the cough happened again. I looked around and found nothing. Afraid someone may be hurt, I walked out of the water to look more. I paused when a figure entered my vision.

"Oh no. Not again." I saw Neteyam on his hands and knees across a bit of foliage on another piece of shore. I sighed, letting my shoulders fall. This was getting ridiculous.

"What is wrong? Do you see something?" Tsireya called out to me.

"No" I turned to look at her. "Nothing. I..." I turned back fully expecting the specter to be gone but he was still there, only trying to stand now. He coughed loudly.

"What was that? Was that someone coughing?" I looked at Ao'noug in disbelief. He had heard him. That must mean...

"Impossible." I turned back yet again to see him still there. "Neteyam... Neteyam!" I took off running for the boy. I ignored the calls from Tsireya and Ao'nong. He looked up when he heard me.

"Yawne..." He said before coughing again. He began to collapse just as I reached him. I caught him before he hit the ground, laying him in my lap.

"Nete... Oh my... you're here." Tears clouded my vision as I brushed my hand across his forehead. The two came running up but skidded to a halt when they saw Neteyam.

"Oh my Eywa. Neteyam?" Tsireya knelt next to us. Neteyam's eyes never left mine. I traced my fingers across his face, taking in the markings I missed so much and down to his chest to where the bullet wound should be but there was nothing.

"Go. Go get your father, mother, Jake, Neytiri. Someone! Quickly." They both took off and dove in the water towards the village.

"Yawne... I'm so tired. What happened? Where were you?" Neteyam asked.

"All in due time, love. For now, just rest. Yes?" I adjusted him to be leaning with his head against my shoulder. He reached up and held my bicep tightly.

"Yeah, yeah. Rest." He mumbled before closing his eyes. I refused to take my eyes off him even as everyone arrived, afraid he would disappear from me again.

Part 2

[ladyxskywalker]

In Exile, ii

Anakin Skywalker x F!Reader/OFC

During his morning meditation on the mountain side, Anakin faces a new enemy

part one | part three

a choose your own outcome story !

weekly story polls posted at the end of each chapter !

hope you enjoy ! 💌

Cliffs

Anakin didn’t like very many people.

Not since forming a close bond with Obi Wan, and certainly not since falling in love with Padme.

The idea of love never even crossed his mind in the last few years living out his existence on this planet. Monotony, and isolation compounded all of that for him. It was no longer on his radar.

Wherever he ended up in life, he didn’t feel it necessary to speak to anyone, let alone form a friendship with them if he absolutely didn’t have to.

He kept his head down. Stayed quiet. Tended to his field everyday. Watched as his crops and trees took on shape and beauty. That was something he could relate to - hard work, and discipline. Doing his best, and making sure that he was absolutely ‘better’ than everyone.

they don’t know what I’m capable of…

But when his neighbor moved in on the plot of land next to his, everything started to change. A man who once lost his sense of humanity, started to become whole again. 

Her smile did that for him.

And the sound of her voice alone, seemed to have made things the slightest bit better again.

So, when she told him of her troubles the day before involving that lowly fisherman, he got angry. Even more so when he heard more about this from the villagers in town.

It took everything in him just to speak with the modest shopkeepers, and the elders. Going against staying silent in order just to help her.

what do you know about him?

he’s a defector! a scoundrel!

fled fighting in the war?

I don’t know where from, but yes. took off during the clone wars.

how did he end up here?

bar fight, ended badly.

what do you mean?

stole from someone, then killed them. had a bounty on his head but escaped, somehow ended up here.

he won’t be here for long…

we’re good people, lars, none of us asked for thieves and criminals to infiltrate our home…

If only they knew…

As he begins to feel one with all of his thoughts, a light breeze begins to pass through all of the trees behind him. The sweet melodic song birds, delivering their peace to all of the mountainside. Everything is green here. The water, freshest just from falling. All that was once jagged is now made smooth again; the river, freely flowing over all of the stones and rock.

It reminds him of a time when everything made more sense. At least, that is what he settles with during his daily meditation. Breathing like this with his eyes closed makes him feel as though he has some sort of purpose, a reminder that, yes, perhaps I can in fact be whole again. 

But, it’s this one fight that’s been holding him back from all of it.

A kind face, that no matter how hard he tries, can never be forgotten.

Frankly, it’s become somewhat of an annoyance…

A beautiful, and persistent, growing sort of distraction…

you’re nice to me.

I try.

“Ha! Would you get a load of this! Tough guy seems to be one with nature! I know what you really are!”

there he is, perfect timing. 

“And what’s that? I’m just dying for you to tell me…”

With his eyes closed, Anakin smirks, where instinctually he feels the vagrant in question pacing back and forth behind him. 

his steps make the grass fold.

a few twigs have snapped.

“You’re soft! Defending some disgusting woman! What’d you think I wouldn’t hear about where you are?”

“That was my plan all along, not my fault you fell for it.”

there goes a splash into the water.

an echo of a floating basket behind him.

Anakin stands, turning to see what the sound was, only to find broken stems, and dirt, clouding the bottom of a nearby waterfall.

Rose petals. Scattered thorns...

Sunflowers, and broken glass jars.

Stolen garden tools.

Homemade favors, and jam, wrapped in woven cloth of all colors, strewn about the neighboring rocks. 

“You’re nothing, Lars, just like the rest of us! Who knows if that’s even who you really are!”

He smirks, all while lifting the palm of his hand, and controlling the air around them. Watching as his newfound enemy begins to choke on his own breath.

“Perhaps it is best that you address me from the floor.”

Anakin circles him, all while tightening his grip around his neck through the force.

“I was…right…you are…”

With a sharp and instant motion, all at once, he slams him toward the ground.

“Enough.”

Then, he continues with his onslaught.

“It seems you know exactly who I am, and what I’ve done. So the rest is only inevitable…”

His enemy’s eyes are ruthless, but there is only silence. A quiet he can not withhold.

“You’ve led a kind woman into great distress. Destroying her livelihood. And for what? Because she denied you?”

Anakin backhands him, a hardened blow to the face that manages to break the force’s hold.

“Coward.”

He then lands a strengthened kick to his stomach, before stepping on his throat.

Through the grit of teeth, the fisherman snarls.

“You’re…no General…”

“How would you know? You never fought in my war.”

he’s been spreading falsehoods about me and my family throughout the village…

“All you’ve done is harass an innocent girl. Do you take pride in that? What makes you so miserable?”

Releasing his boot, Anakin slowly walks toward the wildflowers. For a second he thinks about collecting some of them when he’s done here. And…the possibility of how they would look on her, worn as a pretty crown.

“She’s nothing but a whore!”

With his back turned, so viciously, he smiles.

“So unfortunate…”

As the nameless vagrant begins to rise to his feet, the entire mountain begins to rumble, causing him to stumble and fall.

“...that now you will be no more than a pile of dust.”

With a menacing crack, Anakin’s wrath lays claim to all of the Earth, forcing his enemy over the ridge ahead of him; listening to his screams ring out from the shattered edges of the cliffs.

what have I done?

why should I feel remorse?

I did nothing wrong...

he deserved it...

“He won’t be a problem anymore.” 

The words come easily, but they are only above a whisper now.

Everything is strangely quiet, where the trees no longer move.

It reminds him of the calm that happens right before a powerful storm.

Except, the carnage has already happened…

And he feels all the more alone.

… ❤️

thanks so much for reading & sharing this story ! I hope you are enjoying the choose your own outcome polls. it has definitely been a lot of fun getting to write these short scenes. sometimes I don't even know what will happen next until I am actually writing them ! I would love to know what you think. 💌😊 xo A

[yearningaces]

Declan x reader Defender of Chickens

Disclaimer: Declan is my own OC, he is a Hallewell. He's a fucked up lil guy but we love him

TW: animal death mentioned, decapitation, murder(Not really graphic)

Declan is not a good man.

He isn't a 'man' either, he muses. If he is not a good man though, then he is a creature.

Less than that, he is a Hallewell. He is what good men hope to avoid, and what evil men are stalked by in the darkness before their impending end.

He isn't a good Hallewell either though, he supposes he isn't a 'good' anything. He just is.

However…

As the Hallewell remains knelt on the earth of your doorway, gazing into the night sky above, he supposes he doesn't have to be good. He can simply be yours, instead.

The stars are gone tonight, concealed by clouds in the dark expanse of a night sky far above. The world below lies concealed, offering him the only cover he would ever appreciate. Darkness. Pure and unwavering darkness.

The lights of your home have extinguished at this hour, which is for the best.

Declan remembered when he arrived at your doorstep earlier that evening, finding you to be concealing prior shed tears, he was gentle in his embracing of yourself. His burly form was soft, and tender as he guided you to your bed. Declan was gentle as he tucked you in, shifting the blankets with care, ensuring you were as comfortable as you could be as he sat beside you. 'Who causes you grief? What blood must be shed?' He'd asked, his voice always as it ever is when speaking to you, a low soothing rumble.

The Hallewell's hand twitched on the hilt of his dark sword that was resting in his hands as he remembered how warm your cheek had been in his palm.

'It was nothing of concern', you had told him in such a trembling tone. 'I'm simply being sensitive, worry nothing of this', you had said, and oh how that alone lit a fire in his chest, howling out from the bars of his rib-cage at the thought of anyone telling you that your discomfort, your emotions were to be brushed off. As if unimportant.

At the time though, he only smiled softly, biting back his desire to bare his fangs towards anything and everyone who had ever so much as looked upon your form, as if they were worthy of such a sight as his heart. While stroking your cheek with his thumb, Declan spoke far softer than his lungs demanded. 'I cannot help if you do not say, my heart.'

'It was only the fence for my chickens… I woke this morning to find it was torn, and one of the hens was missing. It was no doubt a predator of some sort, searching for an easy meal…' Declan remembered your expression as you spoke of your small flock. His eyes drifted to the coop and the hen house from where he resided before your doorstep. Those chickens gave you enough eggs for yourself and to sell. You cared for them, so now here he sat upon the earth before your home. Watching over your chickens. Your flock, and by extension his.

His mind drifted once more as your trembling voice remained in his mind, seared into his head as if branded by iron and fire. 'The Fisherman's son came to my stall at the market today, he looked happy as he asked of my chickens, Declan we've never spoken before… I didn't know what he meant but it made me wonder something terribly paranoid.'

Declan considered your uneasy words and tone. You were such a wonderful creature, truly. His lovely human, his own beating heart. He was proud he'd kept face when he was seated before you, not once did his voice rise above a low murmur given your state. 'Alright, my heart, I hear your words. I understand your flock is important to you, and it is important to me,' The Hallewell gazed out to the patched portion of the fence, then to the dark treeline beyond. His attention grasped while the memory of your conversation rings in his head.

'I will watch over your flock tonight,'

Declan stands, silent as the grave he is ready to dig as the rustling of the underbrush grows louder

'But, Declan, it's the middle of winter and there is no guarantee anything would even occur-'

The Fisherman's son -Rory- not that his name matters much to a Hallewell, creeps out from the underbrush.

'It will be alright, my dove. I'll merely remain to watch over your flock.'

Declan stalks towards the boy, no more than his twenties, hands already tearing at the patched fencing, unaware of what is coming in the darkness.

'I will merely be rid of any predator that comes scratching at their coop.'

Rory freezes as his hands grasp the fencing. Feeling his mind screaming in the panic of a trapped animal under the blade.

'I would sooner throw myself into the bottom of the nearest well than let anything happen to your flock that you tend to so diligently.'

The blade swings down before a sound can rise from the now bleeding lungs of the Fisherman's son.

'Your flock is vital to you, is it not? Do your chickens not provide you with eggs, and feathers, and meat, and fertilizers? They are yours and by extension, they are mine to guard.'

Declan tears his sword out of the hot-blooded corpse.

'Allow me to be your guard dog, wont you?'

He strikes again, one swing of the dark metal, and the head is severed.

'Let me do this for you, just for tonight.'

Declan's expression is nothing short of sadistic glee as his smile widens, fangs sharp and eyes alight with the glow of malice and delight. The Fisherman's son, the red-haired hot-blooded fool of a jester at best. He'd often be on the receiving end of Declan's ire due to his subtle disregard for you, your work, your livestock that was often your main resource at the markets you enjoyed setting up a stall at. He'd done this for what? Petty pride? A way to lessen the competition of his own fathers stall? No matter, the answer never was of importance to the Hallewell. Better still, the issue was resolved.

With a quiet 'cluck' of the familiar-sounding hens that approached the commotion, Declan knelt by the fence and looked over at the chickens. "Ladies," He greeted in the way that so often seemed to amuse you. His eyes roamed the animals. Your flock. Something you had deemed important and now such notion was engraved into Declan's very bones as well. These creatures were to be shielded as readily as he did so for you. He knew the notion was one you'd laughed off, but he also knew how attached you were to these feathered things, after all, you cared for him, the wretched feathered thing he was, why not a chicken as well? While he would never understand, he knew you cared greatly for your animals, and as such he would ensure they would remain protected if only so you had no reason to mourn their early passing.

"Your predator is gone, now keep quiet tonight, our solace must be allowed uninterrupted rest." Declan looked down to the still-warm corpse, and reaching down to the severed throat of the Fisherman's son, he tore a strip of flesh, holding it to the fence as one of the hens was close enough to peck at the sliver of meat, grasping on and pulling it into the coop as the small flock gathered for the midnight snack. "Well done, ladies," Declan observed the hens before standing to properly dispose of the body, only so you'd never worry.

When the deed was done, and Declan's stomach sat full, did he finally re-enter your home. His dark sword was placed by the door, freshly cleaned and polished, his heavy boots left behind as he stalked through the dark home with familiarity.

Your room was silent and warm. Blessedly, you laid with peace it appeared to the Hallewell as he stood by your door.

Ever so slowly, Declan approached your bed, feeling as though he was approaching something far more vital than himself. His heart, laid upon blankets and cushions of your own throne as you slept. Declan felt his malice and hatred melting away from the inside of his rib-cage. Your very presence seemed to soothe some inner part of him that he had never previously known to be anything but loathing and ferocity, yet… Seeing your peace, your comfort despite knowing he was so close. You rested, despite knowing of the blood-stained and wretched thing that loomed and lurked within the walls of your own home, laid out within your own nest, content and safe.

Declan felt something in him wrench at the very idea alone, and seeing you, knowing these things… It only drew him closer.

The Hallewell orbited your presence as a devout worshiper would their solace. The brute of a creature, stained with the evil of the world, tainted with the deeds he had relished in, and never once regretted. Yet despite his very nature, you allowed him to be within your temple of gentle touch, and soft words, feeding his yearnings and his howling pleas for something kinder.

He almost didn't know what to do with himself as he edged closer, towards the side of your pristine resting place. Declan slowly, silently lowered himself to his knees before your bed. His hands resting upon the soft blankets, his forehead placed atop his hands. Declan felt his mouth moving without any noise of his silent words rising, in fear of disturbing your slumber. "My heart, my solace, my everything. You will not again have another tarnish the lands you have so diligently tended to. Never will another place their wretched form upon your home, in harm of your own nor yourself. The jester foolish enough to attempt so will never stain your lands, though his blood will feed them. I swear to you, and should another be shameless enough to try, their head will be placed atop a pike and left before the beds of flowers as a message to any other who might wish to do the same. Rest gently, dear dove, I will see to it, I will see to it all."

Declan will remain right where he is, he will not move as if a statue made of stone fit for nothing more than to be a visage of a human guised beast at worship before its personal devinity, and he will hardly breathe as he listens with bated breath for each beat of his own heart that lies within your own chest, whereas his lies only with visions of you.

Rest well.

[horizon-verizon]

As Ser Alfred Broome crossed the drawbridge to Maegor’s Holdfast, where Prince Aegon was being held, he found Ser Perkin the Flea and six of his gutter knights barring his way. “Move aside, in the king’s name,” Broome demanded. “We have a new king now,” answered Ser Perkin. He put a hand upon Ser Alfred’s shoulder...then shoved him hard, sending him staggering off the drawbridge onto the iron spikes below, where he writhed and twisted for two days as he died. In that same hour, Lady Baela Targaryen was being spirited away to safety by agents of Lord Larys the Clubfoot. Tom Tangletongue was surprised in the castle yards as he was leaving the stables, and beheaded forthwith. “He died as he had lived, stammering,” says Mushroom. His father Tom Tanglebeard was absent from the castle, but they found him in a tavern on Eel Alley. When he protested that he was “just a simple fisherman, come to have an ale,” his captors drowned him in a cask of same. All this was done so neatly, swiftly, and quietly that the people of King’s Landing had little or no inkling of what was happening behind the walls of the Red Keep. Even within the castle itself, no alarum went up. Those who had been marked down for death were killed, whilst the rest of the court went about their business, undisturbed and unawares. Septon Eustace tells us that twenty-four men were killed, whilst Munkun’s True Telling says twenty-one. Mushroom claims to have witnessed the murder of the king’s food taster, a grossly fat man named Ummet, and asserts that he was forced to hide in a barrel of flour to escape the same fate, emerging the next night “floured from head to heels, so white the first serving girl to see me took me for Mushroom’s ghost.” (This smells of story. Why would the plotters wish to kill a fool?) Queen Alicent was arrested on the serpentine steps as she made her way back to her chambers. Her captors wore the seahorse of House Velaryon upon their doublets, and though they slew the two men guarding her, they did no harm to the Dowager Queen herself, nor to her ladies. The Queen in Chains was chained again and taken to the dungeons, there to await the pleasure of the new king. By then the last of her sons was already dead.

Fire and Blood, by George R.R. Martin, pg 565-566  [Aegon II’s Death PT.2]

[dsandrvk]

Wednesday, July 26 - to Hastings

We had a mostly uneventful trip to England, considering some of our previous trips. Our flights were mostly on time, our luggage made it, and we actually had a few pleasant surprises. The first was landing in Denver and deplaning into a nice modern terminal, instead of the old lower level "B" gates that United used for the smaller planes. It was bright, with varied seating ranging from lounge style chairs to stools at work counters to the more traditional airport seating, but with lots of outlets. Much nicer than the rest of the Denver airport. Too bad the new SLC airport has copied the old style Denver, and basically designed a new, 30-year old airport. While we waited during our long layover, we were treated to a surprise thunderstorm with lots of lightning and a brief, but very heavy downpour. Later, on our flight, we passed a similar storm to the southeast over western South Dakota that had the most continuous cloud lightning I've ever seen.

The second good surprise was the revised immigration procedure at Heathrow. There are now automated kiosks for most travelers and it was simply a matter of scanning my passport, smiling at the camera, and then I was on my way. Less than 5 minutes, where it used to often take an hour to get through the line. We even beat our luggage, which has never happened here before.

From there it was an easy underground ride to Hammersmith where we changed lines, and emerged in Victoria Station. Since we had a while before our train to Hastings, we walked around and found a Post Office, where we were able to change Russ' old twenty pound notes to USD. We had learned last December in the Falklands that the old bills weren't being accepted anymore, and needed to be exchanged at a Bank of England or a Post Office, and the latter was more convenient.

The neighborhood around Victoria Station has lots of theatres and we were able to watch folks going to Wednesday matinees of Wicked and Hamilton. The first two pictures are from this area. The station itself was very busy, and it was easy to get our prepaid tickets out of a machine for our trip down to Hastings. Many train tickets are considerably cheaper when purchased at least a day ahead.

We were also surprised how quickly the weather changed. It was sunny in London, but by the time our train pulled out it was grey, and it started raining shortly afterwards, although it hadn't yet reached Hastings when we arrived. Hastings is a mixture of working town and touristy beach resort, and has some very old parts. After checking in, we walked through the tunnel under the highway to the waterfront and the old town, including George Street, which had lots of restaurants and pubs and not much else, but a lot of atmosphere. By now it had started raining steadily, which is the forecast for most of our time here in England. Good thing we brought full rain gear, including ponchos, since some of the winds make umbrellas pretty useless.

Since we had a late flight from Denver and hadn't landed in Heathrow until after noon, it was now dinner time, and we finally settled on first having a couple of cask ales in a busy little local bar called the Jolly Fisherman, followed by some good fish and chips at the "Old Town Fryer". By now it was dark and we headed back to our lodging for much needed sleep. Our plan for tomorrow is to take the bus up to the town of Battle, where William the Conqueror defeated Harold and the English in 1066. It's amazing that a monumental defeat is so revered, but then, that's what really created the England we now know.

[umichenginabroad]

Easter Celebrations (Czech and Hungarian edition)

Hellooo

Easter weekend was a bit chaotic, so apologies for my late post. In the Czech Republic, both the Friday before and Monday after Easter are public holidays, so we didn't have class either day. And no class means crazy trips...

Leading up to the weekend, we had an opportunity to decorate eggs (kraslice) and gingerbread cookies. I found painting eggs super relaxing; it's kind of a mindless task once you get into it. Unlike in the US, you use wax to create the designs which are typically floral or in stripes. Mine surprisingly turned out pretty well hehe. As for the gingerbread, I had no idea they were popular during Easter. I was walking around the Easter markets and saw tons of stands selling giant intricately decorated gingerbread. While I still don't know exactly why this is a thing, I did have fun icing the cookies (They did not taste very good unfortunately)

Okay sooo my blog title might be slightly misleading because I did nothing Hungarian to celebrate Easter besides go to Budapest. I mean I learned a lot about Hungarian history and the places around the city, but I think most of my friend's and my celebrating surrounded our 4 day weekend and fitting 15 people into an Airbnb which was chaos in itself.

Us girls and some jumping around at a playground that I wish I had when I was little

We started with a walking tour which covered St Stephen's Basilica, the Parliament, and the Shoes on the Danube Bank, among others. The Basilica was open to the public for free because of the holiday, and it's something I'd definitely recommend checking out. The red marble and gold accents really made the place feel straight out of a fairytale. Plus if you ever were curious about St. Stephen's (first Christian king of Hungary) mummified hand, it's displayed inside.

Exterior and Interior of St. Stephen's Basilica

Honestly, Budapest had such pretty buildings. I didn't see it at first, probably because we had cloudy rainy weather, but the sunny days really made me appreciate the buildings. Some of the city views from above also reminded me of Prague, so makes sense that both cities are ranked so highly according to their beauty.

View of the Chain Bridge, St. Matthias Church & Parliament Building plus this gorgeous sunset and my favorite area around Fisherman's Bastion

Also I can't forget to mention the ruin bars. The decorations are insane and each room has a unique vibe. Some are jungle-y, some had psychedelic decor, and others had general street art. I definitely think if our study abroad program ever had a reunion we'd choose Budapest as a close second to Prague... you don't know a true college experience until you travel with this many people :)

All 15 of us! and examples of rooms in the ruin bar

Now for some rest and recovery before I go to my favorite European city! (besides Prague ofc)

Catherine Jiang Computer Science Tech Career Accelerator in Prague

Czech Words

Kraslice - decorated easter eggs

Velikonoce - Easter

[buckyhoney]

𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i know i already did one similar to this, but im updating it because nobody can convince me this man wouldn't be the perfect boyfriend.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shang chi x reader

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, language, mentions of sex, mentions of fingering, mentions of toys

You’d be co-workers, but you work at the hotel's front desk. Shang Chi would have the biggest crush on you but would be too nervous to say anything. “Just ask her out! What's the worst thing that could happen?” Katy nudges him, “She could say no!” He says back, sucking in a breath. “Just go ask her out!” It would take him months to get the courage to ask you out. When clocking in and out, he’d make polite small talk with you and crack a few jokes just so he could see you smile. 

When he finally got the nerve to ask you out, he’d be super nervous and stumble over his words. Shang Chi would get the biggest smile on his face when you agree. For the rest of the week, he stresses over trying to figure out the perfect date. He picks you up at your apartment right on time with a small bouquet of flowers. “Uh, these are for you,” Shang Chi grins. The first date would be casual and light; he’d take you to Fisherman’s Warf. The two of you would play the games they have by the pier and have dinner together. 

The two of you would be sitting on one of the benches eating popcorn or some snack-y food looking over the water. His arm is around your shoulder and he’s mentally hyping himself up. Shang Chi hesitates to initiate the kiss, but when he looks at you and sees your eyes flickering from his lips, he slowly moves in. “I’m sorry… Can I…” You chuckle, nodding. When your lips finally meet, he falls for you instantly. 

From that day forward, you guys are pretty much inseparable. The weekends are spent trying out new restaurants, bars, karaoke bars, etc. “I saw this place downtown we should try, I heard they have great food!” The nights in are your favorite, though. Simple, but so intimate. You’d be cuddling on the couch while binge-watch your favorite tv shows and eating takeout. 

Shang Chi would leave little post-it’s around your apartment for you to find throughout the week. They’d have small encouragements or jokes on them or even just ‘i love you!’ on them. He is always buying you small little things because he thought of you. “I saw it and just had to get it!” they’d even be your favorite snack/drink. 

He’s calling you “my love” “sweet girl” or “baby”. you can’t change my mind.

The first time you guys had sex was lighthearted but intimate. It wasn’t planned out in advance but happened while you were at your apartment. It was gentle and all about learning about each other's bodies. It was filled with giggles and less-than-perfect moments. “Ow-” “I’m sorry!” “It’s okay!” You laugh kissing him. Soon, the innocent makeout sessions end up with him between your legs. 

He'd never stop once he knew what made you squirm and whimper. Shang Chi would take his time, teasing you and making you beg for him to fuck you. “Please- Baby, stop teasing!” You’re breathless and he flutters his fingers inside you again. “What baby? I’m not teasing!” He loved when you couldn’t keep still- he loved knowing that he was making you feel that good. 

Rough sex would happen from needing a stress release- taking you from behind with your ass up, your face against the mattress, and your whines while he rammed into you? One of his favorite ways to fuck you. He was able to get so deep and feel you grip him so hard. 

Shang Chi loves to experiment with new positions or toys. He loves to keep the bedroom exciting and fresh. You have a box full of toys- for you and for him.

[rommahh]

A pit stop to buc-ees has to be on the list for Harry as he goes to texas.

“Mmm…are we there yet?” You grumbled waking up to the sound of your boyfriend dressing at the end of the bed. He pulled a pair of blue shorts on with a packers hoodie.

“No baby, just stopping at a gas station to get food and use the restroom. Coming in?” He asks pulling on his famous fisherman hat. You sat up on the bed, nodding your head. Harry smiled at your adorable scrunched up face as you rubbed the crust out of your eyes.

He brushed his teeth while you put on one of your hoodies and shorts. He waited for you by the bus door as your brushed your teeth and made yourself somewhat presentable. Turning to him you gave him a cheeky smile to signal that you were ready to go.

“Ready princess?”

Ready was an understatement. When you think of pit stops you think of small dinky gas stations not full blown gas station malls.

“Buc-ees”

The bright red sign yelled at you as you walked hand in hand with your love. Your eyes were wide in shock looking at the large grills for sale outside of the store and the surplus of gas pumps that lined the store.

“Holy crap, Harry!” You whisper shouted trying to not disturb the other shoppers around you. Your nose was blessed with the smells of yummy baked goods and fresh grilled pork and bbq. Half of the store was Buc-ee’s merch including tshirts, bathing suits, stickers, and others, whereas the other half was the grocery part.

Holding onto Harry’s arm, you yanked him to the T-shirts gasping at all of the colors, sizes, and designs. Grabbing a large hot pink T-shirt with the beaver adorning the front.

“I want, Harry.” You said in admiration. Harry grabbed the shirt from you telling you to grab him a matching white one. You gave him a big smile before grabbing the shirt.

You both checked out the yummy food, Harry smelling from afar because of his pescatarian diet. You picked out a pulled pork sandwich. Harry found himself picking up a small basket for the things you were finding.

His heart swelled at how excited you were. This is why he brought you on tour. He wanted to experience all of these fun things with you, the love of his life. He wanted you to enjoy the small things like fancy gas stations while also enjoying lavish hotels and tourism spots.

Harry helped you pick out some baked treats. Some treats ranging from Mexican baked goodies to the normal American goodies you can buy anywhere. He didn’t miss the way you sneaked a homemade rice crispy treat bar into the cart. Harry found a package salad to eat along with an assorted pack of trail mix.

Before checking out, your eyes caught the title “beaver nuggets.” Straying away from the long line, you picked up the bag curious as to what beaver nuggets were.

“Bubby look!” Harry looked up from his phone to look at you. Raising his eyebrows, he nodded to acknowledge you.

“Beaver nuggets.” You raised the bag with an excited grin. Harry laughed at your childlike manner.

“What are beaver nuggets?”

“It looks like corn puffs or something but they’re sweet. Get?”

“Yeah we can share them with the rest of the band with the rest of our treats.”

“Yay!”

You tried paying for all of the things but Harry knocked you to the side with his hip muttering for you to go away.

Hands full of stuff, you both trampled onto the bus quickly to avoid any attention. You stripped of your shirt immediately as Harry sat on the couch of the bus. Harry’s eyes went wide at the sight of your braless chest, a blush burning his cheeks.

“Hey!” You snapped jokingly. You threw your hands out making the grabbing motion. Harry shook his head confused still in a trance. “My shirt silly!”

“Oh…yeah. Maybe I’ll hold onto this for a moment.” He murmured clutching the shirt to his chest still staring hard like a teenage boy. “…But I won’t because we have a full day ahead of us.”

You pulled the shirt in squealing at how cute it was. Harry changed into his shirt making you smile even more.

“Harry, baby?”

“Yes.” He replied

“We are ready to take on Texas.”

Taglist:

@evanjh

[outivv]

Ive had this request everywhere in my mind soo… i would love to request an : Ayaka , Kokomi , Baal , and Yae miko with a bartender lover :))

Synopsis: Diluc kin? /j (bartender lover :D)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, and not proofread

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Characters: ayaka, kokomi, Ei. And yae miko

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello! I don’t have much to say since I’m trying to plow through requests rn but I hope you enjoy, and have a lovely rest of your day/ night! <3

— ayaka —

I don’t think ayaka can drink, or she just… isn’t a big fan of alcohol! She will drink any non alcoholic beverages you make though!

I don’t know why but I think she likes the sound of you mixing drinks??? Like it’s just that sound that like scratches her brain.

Often times visits you at your job, and will typically stay a little bit, or if it’s close enough to closing time, or when you’re off of work, she’ll stay until then!

Literally avoids coming to the bar/ restaurant you work at when it’s busy. She loves you but when she has time to herself she does not want to be crowded by other people :’)

— kokomi —

Kokomi doesn’t drink, so no alcoholic beverages for her. Much like ayaka she will have any non alcoholic beverages you make!

Kokomi very much respects you and your job, so as a way to not distract you I don’t think she’d visit you at work very often.

Often times she wonders how you’re able to remember everyone’s order pretty much perfectly, and talk to so many people in one day. I think she’d even find that sort of trait admirable :D

Would love it hen you make a drink to cheer her up after a long day. It just makes her smile, and it’s feels like your way of saying “cheer up it’ll be ok” without actually saying that.

— yae miko —

Yae miko isn’t much of a person for alcohol, but she will have any drink made by you <3

Visits you everyday, and probably teases you just a little bit. Thinks it’s cute when your concentration breaks, and you look at her with a flushed death glare.

Will walk with you after you’re done working, since she stays until closing a lot of the time. Really likes helping you close too. It’s weirdly calming with the restaurant/ bar empty, with only you two sipping a drink, talking, and giggling for a while.

Loves people watching honestly. Will talk about other patrons a little. Not in a bad way, but in a “lmao did you know that guys mom was actually a fisherman. Strange I know” like random things like that

— Ei —

She’s tried at least every drink you can make at least once, but likes to stick to something simple. You’ll see her walk in, and get her drink ready immediately, since you know it so well by now.

Visits you sometimes, but she’s pretty busy, so she either can’t stay long, or she’ll come visit around closing time you both both can walk home together.

Sometimes she visits you at the busiest times, and when someone talks to her she lowkey ignores them. She came to watch you work cause she thinks it’s interesting, and have her drink she gets every time she comes here. Not to socialize >:( (though she will still be polite just ignore them)

I do apologize if this is kind of short :’)

[jaigeye]

im here to be a pain in the ass and ask for no. 24: 'the protection of laughter' with the armourer and lil baby grogs please and thank u :)

30 multipurpose prompts. ( grogu & the armorer. ) read on AO3.

The last time Grogu sees The Man in Silver, he is on the ground. 

He smells like blood, and the feelings he is projecting are so scary that he can't bear to feel them any longer- turning away like one does from the terrible, painful brightness of the sun. He tried to protect him. He tried very hard.

Not so much later, when he is tired and his thoughts are foggy with exhaustion, he dimly acknowledges that he is being passed from hand to hand. The tunnels smell like moisture, and there is something tense and metallic and grief-sharp in the air. The hands that hold him tremble, depositing him in the arms of The Gold One.

She is like his guardian, and she is not. Her face is gold, and she looks like a bird, he thinks. She curls him into the bow of her elbow. She does not tremble when she takes in hand the silver talisman passed to her. She doesn't tremble, either, when the other people disappear and it is an axe she holds instead, swinging as she clutches him. 

Afterwards, once she's cut down the men in white, she holds him up so he can look at her eyes. They are long and slim and black and he can see himself in the astute sharp edges, just like he could before.

He puts his hands to her helmet and cries out, because everything hurts and he is alone. 

"All will be well," she says in a soothing tenor, and Grogu finds little peace in the placating statement. "I have you now."

And have him, she does. Like the Man in Silver before her she takes him everywhere, only strapped to her back where he can rest his face against the warm fur. He likes the view. It is good to be so high up, and to see the world as she does, like a great bird soaring through the sky.

She is very different than his other saviour. Man in Silver was not the first- far from it. He has been clutched in many arms, taken from star to star in crates and containers and wrapped up in blankets. He has been cold and isolated and he has survived things that devoured all his peers. But those memories are dark and far-away from here, and Grogu is too busy squinting against the light that reflects off Woman in Gold's radiant face.

One evening, she pulls Grogu's coat down around his neck and just as he is ready to throw her across the room with all the force he can fathom she procures a talisman. It has horns and teeth and it looks angry, shiny, silver. It is made of smooth, smooth Beskar, and he knows what that is because he's spent many a night sleeping against such cool surfaces.

When she binds the talisman around his neck, Woman in Gold cries. He can't see it but he can feel it, like hot waves of remorse, and Grogu is very young and perhaps naive but there are things he is familiar with and remorse- remorse is one of them.

She is not the Man in Silver, though, so she doesn't know to take off her hard shell when she tries to rock him to sleep, doesn't know he likes frogs best, doesn't chuff with humor when he presents her with shiny trinkets or let him sit on her lap when she flies the very ship the Silver One once flew. 

Where is he, he thinks sometimes, he must miss his ship, surely, surely, we are going to get him and put him back in it where he belongs. 

To protest his circumstances, he cries every night. Every time she sets him down to sleep or to wait or to watch as she works or talks or fights or tries to sleep, herself, he opens his mouth to scream.

There are few other ways to express oneself besides this, really. Grogu must resort to what he knows works.

And she is- well. She is the Woman in Gold, with the fur and the leathers and the big, soft gloves, with bird eyes, she who flies, who smells like iron (blood? blood?), whose hair hides in tight black coils at the base of her neck. She is all things and she is also nothing at all to him, because since the Man in Silver went away she has barely spoken a word. 

Perhaps silence is how she speaks. Grogu considers it. He saw the Man in Silver speak with his hands, sometimes. He tried once to teach him and being as he was a little thing, with little hands and fewer fingers, Grogu could manage only a subpar imitation. It frustrated him so terribly that he threw a fit and ate a stick, just to express his utter displeasure. 

He wishes now that he could speak with his hands, or that she could listen with her mind. Maybe she can- her golden face betrays nothing.

One day, when Woman in Gold is sitting in a cantina bar and thinking nasty thoughts at all the nasty people thinking nasty thoughts, too, the air foggy with exhaustion and bitterness and Grogu, well, Grogu is just trying to eat his soup in peace- that day she breaks her oath of silence. 

"Child," she says, holding out a hand towards him. "Don't play with your food."

He wasn't even playing with it. Grogu's ears fall back before they perk upwards at a thought, an idea, and in turn her golden face quirks to one side as she watches. 

He reaches into his soup and, with the confidence and determination of a seasoned fisherman, grasps the half-alive creature still swirling within it and plops it unceremoniously in her hand. 

He does this because the Silver One always made angry noises, but his feelings were light and bubbly, and he'd like to feel that from her too. He stares seriously at her, expectantly raising a wrinkled brow.

Woman in Gold stares at her hand for a second. Then she flexes her grip around the creatures weak, thrashing body, and it releases a pathetic ppffbbbhttt sort of sound and that's it! That's it! He's done it! Woman in Gold chuckles and then sets into fits, her echoing peal of laughter cutting through all the misery of the cantina and she shakes with it, so fiercely is she laughing. Grogu can't help it. He loves laughter, so he partakes gleefully, giggling and squealing and that's it. 

Even if they never exchange a single word, the laughter will be enough.

[dcstruction]

[ olivia cooke | cis female | she/her | twenty-six ] ——   welcome to grimrose, ESTHER MCLEAN. it’s cool that you’re here, you know. haven’t you heard of the history of this place… anyway, how’s being a NEWCOMER who has been in town for ONE MONTH , especially since you spend most of your days as a CASE WORKER at GRIMROSE TOWN HALL ? also, not that it’s a bad thing, of course, but i’ve heard people say you can be a little BRITTLE more than you are INCISIVE… but that’s just coming from people who are bored here, i promise. to me, you remind me of BITTER SWEET SYMPHONY  by THE VERVE and repeating your sentence thrice before giving up , the fog that settles on the land after a rainy night ,clumps of cut brown locks in the bathroom sink , building sandcastles at the beach even as the tide comes in and speaking your truth even as your voice shakes . hope to see you around, ESTHER. —

full name — esther renee mclean name meaning — "star” / to hide or to conceal age — twenty-six date of birth — december 01 place of birth — austin, texas current location — grimrose, new hampshire gender — cis woman pronouns — she / her religion — baptist , only semi-religious occupation — case worker education level — MSW / masters degree in social work, certified in texas and newly in new hampshire residence — fixing up her grandmother’s home just several minutes from main street  family —  frances jean mclean (nee howard) [grandmother, living ] , willie mclean [grandfather, deceased ] , pauline mclean (nee gordon) [mother , living ] , cecil mclean [ father , living] , everette mclean [brother , presumed living ]  finances — comfortably middle class spoken languages — english, some bits of french faceclaim / voiceclaim — olivia cooke

background — tw mentions of death ,

the house in mary’s cove was pretty decent at the time . it was only one floor , but it had enough rooms to house all four siblings of the mclean family . willie was a fisherman by choice and frances a midwife by necessity - some evenings at the house lonesome for the children but the oldest soon learned how to cook and was the matron at the young age of fourteen . finishing high school was not required when there was a baby to take care of at home -- and cecil mclean was no easy child . he was rough by the edges , independent even as a newborn and steadfast as a young father years later .

cecil remembers the evening that his father came home from the sea with an extra wrinkle etched on his forehead and a defeated ‘the fish haven’t been biting’ . that memory was clear but the rest were muffled ; something about how they should move down south - it was warmer , it was new and hell , even the jobs seemed even better down in texas .  so the family left everything they knew and made a new life in a very different state . the house was forgotten , left to dust and photos on the walls never aged while the mclean family did .

esther is born to a teenage mother only two years later . it was a consequence of a spiked punch at senior prom and a couple that had only gone on a few dates. the teen pregnancy was first met with disdain ( mostly from the perspective that cecil was raised to be a very respectful gentleman by the word of god ) but pauline soon became the daughter frances soon adored . sundays were always spent at church ( the only hour pauline really dared to be a decent lady ) but the rest at some bar that she fronted as her job . pauline was never meant to be a mother - she had a drive to be someone so why let some mistake ruin her life ? they only had to get married for the snobby church - some elaborate lie that the child was definitely not out of wedlock . but they divorced when esther could walk so pauline could travel the world because that was the truest marvel ; not the baby left alone in the bassinet .

the only real mother figure esther had growing up was her maternal grandmother . they often butted heads about religion , but it had been her who had changed all esther’s dirty diapers , told teenage esther about the birds and the bees , and who had been the first to know that esther had gotten engaged to the brainy kid from her high school .

the engagement didn’t really last more than a year . what began as an impulsive forever soon withered under the pressure of reality . adulthood was no easier than university and certainly not when the two had different ideas of what a family meant . he wanted children and she wanted a life  ( really the only similarity she had to pauline ) .

a letter came on an otherwise unremarkable tuesday . addressed by her grandmother who often seemed lonely these days after her grandfather’s untimely demise. it was a property deed for a home that had been abandoned fifty years ago . several inked words told the story of the wooden house near the coast . a picture was attached to the prose and the blue paint was most definitely chipped by now , but all it took was one glance for the pull to drag esther back north .

it’s been one month and esther spent most of her time in the attic . the house was certainly a skeleton of memories as nothing’s moved . she walks the same steps her father once did and it’s the closet thing to home she’s got now .

several head cannons :p

at the surface level , esther is pretty easy going . however , as someone gets to know the true her - the one that is hidden under several layers of truly complicated feelings , she is a ghost . there are times that she is aware of how shitty of a friend she can be but it doesn’t outweigh the flight that carries her day to day . to know her is to not know her.

she decided to pursue case work after picking up a part time job when she was in university at an office that worked with at risk youths . it’s truly an emotional job for her which is why she is a pretty emotionless person at home . but since moving to grimrose, she’s taken on a full time job at the grimrose town hall where she assists tourists and newcomers acclimating to the new town by providing local resources. it’s not exactly her passion but it pays decent.

with the roleplay’s progression , esther will develop the ability of pathokinesis . while it is one’s ability to manipulate emotions, it will take a rather different approach at onset . she will have a sudden rush or awareness of someone else’s emotions to the point of becoming overwhelmed . i find that this will be ironic for a person who has always had difficulty in conveying emotions so this ability will be the literally the only way (whether conscious or subconscious) for esther to communicate how she feels at the moment or about someone.

[ssahotchhner]

hunter, hunted

i should not be so excited about this but i just discovered that when you copy and paste text into a new post tumblr FINALLY allows italics and bolded fonts to be transferred over so I don't have to remember to go through it and do it myself again i could literally CRY rn. ANYWAY I thought it would be fun to write a oneshot like the Profiler, Profiled where Morgan is accused of murder. i created an oc for this one and I hope you love April I've spent a lot of time with her the last couple of weeks (:

words: 13.4k

pairing: hotch x oc

warnings: detailed descriptions of murder and torture and sexual assault

questions comments concerns

“Where’s the weapon, April?”

It was almost laughable. A federal agent handcuffed in an interrogation room being questioned for murder in her small town while visiting a childhood friend. She shakes her head at the detective, laughing. “I carry a gun on me at all times because, as I said, I’m a federal agent. You have it in your possession already. If you want to test it to see if I’ve fired it recently, be my guest. You won’t find anything.”

“You’re right, we won’t find anything because Brandon Perry died from blunt force trauma to the head. So I’ll ask you again, where is the weapon?”

This time, April does laugh. Of course he wasn’t shot. That would be too easy. “You know what, Detective Barnes, if you hadn’t kicked my hotel door down in the middle of the night, handcuffed me and dragged me in here, I may have cooperated with the investigation, but here we are. So I’ll tell you again: my Unit Chief is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I won’t be answering any more questions until I can speak with him.”

The middle aged man glares at her until finally getting up and leaving her alone in the interrogation room. She rested her head on the table and hoped that maybe that stupid motherfucker would listen to her this time.

***

“Hunter has been detained in Bar Harbor, Maine.” Hotch tells the team in the conference room.

JJ frowns, “Isn’t that her hometown? Why has she been arrested?”

“For murder.” Hotch says. Before the team can react, he pulls up a picture of Brandon Perry’s body, “Brandon Perry was found yesterday by a fisherman just off the docks a week after he was released from prison on parole. He had been bludgeoned to death with some sort of blunt object, the M.E. suggests a baseball bat.”

“And why do they think April did this?” Spencer asks.

Hotch clicks a button and a picture of a couple brutally murdered in their bed, a little boy who’s throat had been slashed, and a little girl with brown hair and bright green eyes, alive and well filled the screen, “Because he was serving time for the murders of Addison, Jacob, and Timothy Hunter. April’s family.”

Everyone stares at the monitor in shock, “Her whole family was murdered when she was a kid… and she never mentioned it to us?” Penelope asks, her lower lip trembling.

“April was left relatively unharmed, but she had been sexually assaulted by the assailant. She said he was tall, but he had on a ski mask so she was never able to give solid identification.” Hotch finishes.

“So how’d they connect these murders to Brandon Perry?” Rossi asks.

“He was connected to a couple other home invasions and assaults nearby so he entered a plea deal. The local police were under a lot of pressure to close the case.”

“Breaking into homes to murdering almost an entire family is a big escalation.” Morgan says.

Hotch nods, “I thought so too.”

“April was just a kid,” Prentiss says, “And to go through a trauma like that, I’m sure she believed whatever the police fed her. And to see him be released from prison like that… I hate to say it, but it could have been the trigger.”

Penelope’s shaking her head, “No, no, you guys don’t really think April did this, do you?”

Everyone’s silent for a moment and then Morgan speaks, “Baby girl, if she’s innocent, we’ll prove it. But we can’t rule out the possibility that she did this just yet.”

“I know April hasn’t been here that long,” Garcia says, “But she is still a part of this family. You can all treat her like an unsub, but I won’t.” She finishes and marches out of the conference room.

Aaron sighs, “Wheels up in thirty.” He says resolutely before leaving the room.

***

Hotch walked into the police station, the team at his back and was greeted by a man about April’s age who introduced himself as Detective Fielder. “Detective, I’d like to speak to my agent.” Hotch demanded after shaking the man’s hand.

The man shrugged, “Sorry, sir. My partner’s in there with her. She’s stubborn as hell. I went to school with her, you know it’s a shame the way her family died but… must’ve knocked a screw loose or somethin’. She ain’t ever been the same.”

Aaron thought it over, killers had made their way into the bureau before. Not like this, though. Not under the nose of his whole team. April kept to herself, but she had joined this team less than a year ago, it would be overwhelming for anyone. “You misunderstand, detective. It wasn’t a request. Bring me to my agent.”

Reluctantly, the younger detective brought Hotch to the back of the station where he could already hear another man, older by the sounds of it, screaming at April.

She was staring back at him, her posture relaxed, looking more annoyed than anything. Hotch walked in and she relaxed further, only then letting on that she had been putting on a show of being unbothered for the detective, “Thank God.” April sighs, “I thought maybe they didn’t call you.”

“Are you alright?” He asks her first, unable to explain why hearing another man scream at you had made his blood boil.

“I’m fine,” She says and directs her attention back to the older detective, “Detective Barnes won’t even get me a water, though.”

“Detective Fielder, get April some water.” Hotch demands. He can feel the two men exchange a look behind him before the younger detective leaves the room. “Detective Barnes, uncuff my agent.”

“You can’t let her go, you don’t have jurisdiction here.” He growls.

“I’m not suggesting you let her go, but even if you’re right she committed a one off crime of revenge. She’s not a threat to anyone here. Uncuff her.” The detective glared at April who only smirked at him. “Now, detective.” Aaron said, firmer this time.

With a look of disgust on his face, the detective uncuffed a smiling April as detective Fielder came back in the room with a cup of water. “Thank you, Billy.” April said as the detective placed the cup in front of her. He ignored her completely.

“I’d like to speak to her alone.”

“Like Hell.” Detective Barnes spat.

“With all due respect, detective, it doesn’t appear that you’ve gotten much out of her. You’re welcome to watch through the window, but I will be questioning her. Clear the room.” They stared at each other for another few moments before the detectives both left the room. Hotch turned back to April whose entire demeanor changed. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and slouching over the table as she rubbed at her wrists where the cuffs had been. The antagonizing behavior Hotch had just witnessed her exhibit completely vanished.

“You don’t help when you antagonize them like that.” Hotch says.

She shrugs, “The men in this town don’t like a woman who thinks she’s his equal. They never liked my attitude. They like it even less now that I outrank them. Either I act like the superior I am, even in cuffs, or they force me into submission.”

He sits down at the table across from her, “Why didn’t you tell me about your family? It wasn’t in your file.”

“Strauss knew.” April says, immediately defensive. She hadn’t lied, the bureau knew.

“But you didn’t want me or the team knowing, why?” She doesn’t answer him, just stares at her hands. “April, I can’t help you if I don’t know.” He says gently.

Finally she looks up and sighs, “When I was twelve my entire family was brutalized and murdered in front of me, but not before the unsub raped me in front of my parents. And I didn’t react the way the people of this town wanted me to. I was twelve and I was covered in semen when he left. So I showered before calling 911. I didn’t cry even once in front of anyone and I never spoke about what happened to anyone, not even the police. Only enough to tell them that I had no idea what he looked like, but I thought he was white.” Her eyes water just slightly and she doesn’t meet his eyes, “For the six years after the murders that I stayed in this town, I know a lot of people thought I did it. That I was some kind of psychopath. So no, I didn’t want it in my file.”

“You thought maybe we’d arrive at the same decision the town did.” Hotch opens the case file, “But you were never tried or even considered a real suspect. There was no physical evidence.”

She smiles sadly, “No physical evidence means nothing to a small town who’s rarely ever seen a scandal, and certainly nothing like this.”

He stares at her for a moment, “And so when Brandon Perry was released from jail, you thought he hadn’t suffered nearly enough so you came back up here and killed him.” April laughs and Hotch can see he’s made her feel antagonistic again, “This isn’t funny, April, you’re a suspect in a homicide.”

“No, Hotch, you don’t understand. It’s funny because I don’t even believe Brandon Perry killed my family and I haven’t believed that for a long long time. Which is why it would make no goddamn sense for me to kill him.”

“That’s bullshit!” The door bursts open and detective Barnes walks in.

“Detective--” Hotch stands as if to shield her and April nearly frowns at how protective he seems to be of her right now. She had seen him this way around the rest of the team, but never her.

“You told Detective Fielder when you were fifteen that you would kill that son of bitch yourself if he ever got out of jail.”

Hotch looks at April with a bit of annoyance, he hated when others had more information than him and from the second he walked in here she kept hiding things from him, not telling him the whole truth.

She lazily rolls her eyes and stares at Billy, “I was fifteen. I was angry. He cooperated with the police so he had the opportunity to get parole after fifteen years? Get his life back after I thought he had ruined mine? Yeah, I said some stupid shit, I think any kid would have.”

“When did you start to doubt that Brandon Perry had killed your family?” Hotch asks, but she’s still shooting daggers at the other detectives, “Agent, eyes here.” He says roughly, growing impatient with her.

Her eyes snap to his, “I used to lurk on support pages for people whose loved ones had been murdered and I remember seeing that this girl described… Almost exactly what had happened to my family, but she said it happened while Brandon was on trial here. She lived a couple towns over.”

“So what did you do?”

She shrugs, “Nothing, I was seventeen, I didn’t have any resources there was nothing I could do.”

Hotch sits down across from her again, leaning over the table so he’s closer to her, “You really expect me to believe, with the conviction you just said Brandon is innocent, that you didn’t look into this further?” She stays quiet and won’t meet his eyes, “I can have Garcia search your desk and computer if you’d rather do this that way.”

She leans back in her chair, rolling her eyes, “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m not a fucking criminal.”

“Then tell me what you know.” Hotch says, voice raised.

“Fine! I started volunteering at the police station so I could get access to files. I was good with the digital databases, but no one else was so they basically gave me free reign. I was able to find three similar cases, all within a couple years of each other but in different cities. One of them, he crossed into New Hampshire. All of the local police departments either arrested someone like Brandon or dismissed it as a one off crime and let it go cold. The files are in my desk drawer at the BAU.”

“You carried them with you all this time?”

She picks at the cuticles around her thumb, something Hotch noticed weeks ago she does when she’s nervous. “I thought… I thought about asking you guys to just look at the case a million times. See if you saw what I saw. And if you didn’t then maybe I could finally move on.”

“So why didn’t you ask?”

Her eyes dart around the room, to the detectives, the one way window, and then back to Hotch, “You guys, the team, you all have… This unbreakable bond and I… I barely just got here and I thought if I’d asked…” She sighs and runs her hands through her hair, “I just… I didn’t think you’d care.”

“The whole team flew out here at the drop of hat for you and you think we wouldn’t care?”

She frowns, “The whole team is here?”

“Yes.”

April sits back in her chair, looking dazed.

“Detectives, you’ll be releasing Agent Hunter from your custody now and since we have reason to believe there’s a serial killer loose and across state lines, we’ll be staying on the case.”

“You don’t really believe anything she’s saying, do you? She’s a psychopath!” Detective Barnes fumed.

Hotch stands and steps to the detective who immediately takes a step back after noticing Hotch’s menacing stance, “She is a federal agent and is no longer a suspect, you have no physical evidence and you just lost motive. You will speak to her with respect and if you don’t think you can handle that I’ll contact your superintendent and have you removed from the case. Is that clear?”

The detective stood back and out of their way, April looking at the ground so Hotch wouldn’t have to yell at her for antagonizing them again.

“What’s the history with you and Billy?” Hotch asks as they walk out of the room.

April rolls her eyes, “He was my high school boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Hotch muses, “You can do better.”

Before she can figure out if he was joking or not, the team realizes she’s walking of her own free will and they seem to all release the tension in their bodies. JJ walks to April first, pulling her into a hug before she can react.

April slowly raises her arms to hug JJ back, “I wish you had told us sooner.” Is all she says.

“I’m sorry you guys came all the way out here.” April addresses the team when JJ moves away from her.

“That’s okay, Hunter, we’re just glad to see you aren’t a murderer.” Morgan teases.

“We might actually be staying here for a while after all.” Hotch says.

Prentiss frowns, “Is there a case here?”

April opens and closes her mouth, “I-- Maybe.”

“Why don’t you call Garcia, ask her to get those files to everyone.” Hotch says to her quietly.

April nods and walks off.

“What’s going on, Hotch?” Rossi asks.

Hotch pushes his hands in his pockets, “The reason we were able to clear Hunter is because she has no motive. She doesn’t believe Brandon Perry killed her family and she hasn’t since she was a teenager.” He pauses, “She thinks the murders may be the work of a serial killer. She found three additional cases nearby, one crosses over to New Hampshire, that she believes are the work of the same unsub.”

Prentiss slowly nods, “And you want us to see if that’s true or not.”

Hotch nods, “I’m sure April would really appreciate our support.”

Everyone on the team is already nodding when April comes back, “So, as Penelope might say… Avengers assemble?” She asks hopefully.

Thankfully, they all laugh and nod, even Hotch cracks a smile, “Great.” April sighs in relief, “Let’s go to the conference room.”

With Garcia on a laptop screen, April tells them everything she knows, which admittedly, isn’t much. However, there are overwhelming similarities between the cases.

“Every family he chose was wife, husband, two kids. The eldest was the daughter all between the ages of 11-13 and in each case the daughter was raped and kept alive.” April was speaking as if she wasn’t speaking about herself and Hotch would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him. “In each case the parents were brutally tortured with a knife, forced to watch the rape and then killed with a fatal gunshot to the head. The boy was always killed first and it was always quick.”

“A mercy kill?” Reid muses.

April sighs, “I’ve never been able to figure that part out. It’s obvious he gets off on the rape and torture of the parents and daughter, but why not leave the boy alive the way he always leaves the daughter if it’s out of mercy?”

“It could be he thinks he’s sparing the boy the pain and trauma of having to go through the after effects of watching his parents and sister tortured.” Prentiss says.

“When all is said and done the daughter suffers the most psychologically.” Hotch says, “She could be the real target, maybe a surrogate for someone he knew.”

At this point, Hotch notices the way April is staring at the table, eyes unfocused, “Hunter,” Her eyes shoot up, “You must be exhausted, let me drive you back to the hotel so you can get some rest.”

“Hotch, I’m fine, I want to help.”

“No,” He says and she frowns, “If the daughter is the true target we’re going to have to dive deeper into victimology. Why he chose you. You don’t want to be here for that.”

Everyone’s quiet and deliberately looks away from April. She sighs, “Fine, but I’m coming back first thing in the morning.” She stands and walks out of the conference room without waiting for Hotch.

“Garcia, see what you can find about April’s childhood as well as the other victims and let us know if there’s any similarities.” Hotch says.

“It feels icky, but I’ll do it.” Garcia responds.

“I’ll be back.” Hotch addresses the rest of the team before heading after April.

They ride in silence for a few minutes, Hotch glancing over to the passenger seat every few seconds. “Whatever you want to say just say it.” April says, growing tired of the constant glances.

“You don’t have to keep working on this case like it’s any other case--”

“It’s not just any other case.”

“I know,” He says gently, “I’m worried about you. I know you bottle things up, showing emotion to other people makes you feel vulnerable, which in turn makes you feel weak. And I worry that the way you’re bottling up your rage is going to lead to you taking it out on--”

“I didn’t kill Brandon.” She says.

“I know you didn’t. But if we do find the real killer, I can’t let you come with us into the field until he’s been taken into custody.”

“Hotch--”

“It’s not up for discussion. I’m sorry.”

She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest and they continue on in silence for a while longer. “Do you think our unsub is also responsible for Brandon’s death?” Hotch felt guilty about upsetting her and thought maybe getting her brain back into work mode would stop her from giving him the silent treatment.

For a few moments he thinks she might continue to ignore him, but finally, she sighs, “It’s possible. If we think he gets off on the suffering of the daughters, he might be upset that I thought he had been caught. That I felt safe knowing he was behind bars. Killing Brandon after he was released could have been a message to me that he’s still out there and obviously following me.”

“You don’t feel safe anymore.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It was implied.” Hotch pauses, “I can stay at the hotel with you, work with the team remotely from the room next to yours.”

He expects her to refuse, but instead she agrees. “Okay.” She says quietly. This only worries him more as she is typically unlikely to accept help unless he insists upon it.

They walk up to the hotel room in silence and Hotch stands behind her as she unlocks her door, “Hey,” He says softly and she turns, “Anything you need, anything at all, I’ll be right there.” He nods his head to the door next to them.

“Thank you.” She says, giving him a small smile before pushing the hotel door open and then quickly closing it behind her.

He stands there for a moment, staring at the space she was just standing in before sighing and going to his own room.

“How is she doing?” Rossi asks when he calls the team from his room to let them know he’ll be staying there.

“She won’t admit it, but she’s scared. She thinks he might be following her and that Brandon Perry was a message to her that he’s still out there.”

“That would make sense if we think the girls are the real targets.” Prentiss chimes in.

Hotch stays on the phone with them a little while longer before they all decide to head back to the hotel. He stares at the wall that separates him from April and tries to get his mind to quiet enough to rest. He’s right here. Nothing will hurt her if he’s right here. He thought about how just last week Rossi had teased him for catching him staring at April. He had nearly convinced Aaron to ask her out. But she was so distant and hard to read and he didn’t want to chance rejection. Eventually, he closes his eyes and drifts off, an image of you smiling at him on the backs of his eyelids.

***

April was exhausted, but she stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Small noises that she never thought twice about now startled her. Hotch is next door. She reminded herself. She thought about the comment he made about Billy: You could do better. Had he been… Flirting? Aaron Hotchner… Flirting? It felt absurd. Shaking the thought out of her head, she got up and poured herself some water from the Brita in the mini fridge. Finally, after drinking the water, she’s able to fall asleep.

The breeze against her face wakes her. Slowly blinking her eyes into consciousness, she notices the balcony doors are open. Those were closed when I fell asleep, She thinks to herself and shoots up in bed, scrambling for her gun as her heart races. April considers yelling to Hotch, but if he’s still here she doesn’t want to scare him off.

On the wall at the foot of her bed reads “Welcome Home” in what looks like blood. Under it sits her favorite childhood teddy bear, head ripped clean off. She tightens her grip on the gun in order to stop the shaking and then glances around the room, but there’s nothing. Then she slowly opens the bathroom door. Pointing her gun at the shower, the curtain moves. She doesn’t hesitate she fires off four rounds, breathing hard. She doesn’t hear a body fall. Reaching out she pushes the curtain, but no one’s there.

Seconds later, Hotch is calling her name, but he doesn’t wait for a response before kicking down the door. “Hunter?” He calls again and she thinks she might hear fear in his voice. Fear for her?

“I’m in the bathroom. You can put down your gun, it’s clear.” He appears behind her a moment later, still staring at the shower, “I thought he was still in here.”

She walks around him and back out to where he left the message, “He came in through the balcony, I— I thought I locked it…” She trails off, looking at the glass of water on the table and realizing she can’t remember when she fell asleep.

“What is it?” Hotch asks.

“He was in here before. I think he drugged my water.”

He narrows his eyes at her, “We should go to the hospital then, I’ll have the team come here and treat this as a crime scene.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital, I’m fine—“

“We don’t know what he gave you or how much, besides, having you tested will tell us what he used faster than sending a sample of the water to Quantico.”

“Fine.” She agrees begrudgingly, he was right. She walks over to her bag of clothes and it’s only at this moment that she realizes she had worn only an oversized t-shirt to bed and Hotch was making a valiant effort not to stare at her legs.

“I’ll, um, I have to get dressed as well.” He says hurriedly, gesturing to the pajama pants he’s wearing. He leaves before she can say anything else. Under normal circumstances, April’s sure this would have made her laugh, but that teddy bear seems to be staring her down. She gets dressed and leaves the room without another glance.

***

April stares out the window of the SUV in silence while Hotch calls Rossi to fill him in on what happened so the rest of the team can start assessing her hotel room. When he hangs up, she feels his eyes darting between her and the road again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks quietly.

She’s quiet for a moment and then she takes a shaky breath, “That teddy bear went missing from my room a couple weeks before the murders. It was my favorite.” She swipes impatiently at the tears that start falling, “I blamed Timmy for it, we fought about it for hours. He felt so bad that I was mad at him he used his birthday money to buy me another one. I really thought he took it.” She tilts her head back in the headrest, trying desperately to stop the impending sobs.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, but he reaches across the car to hold her hand. To her own surprise, she lets him, the calluses on his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of her hand.

***

“What do you have, Garcia?” Hotch steps out of your examination room for a moment to accept the call.

“How is she?” Penelope asks first.

“She’s… shaken up. But, like everyone else on this team does an excellent job of seeming unaffected.”

She sighs, “My poor wonder woman. Anyway, I think I found the connection between all the daughters.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it turns out that our April was a very talented child. Her parents took her to talent shows regularly, she was voted ‘Most Likely To Make It To Hollywood’ in her middle school yearbook.”

Hotch frowns and looks back at April, “We’re talking about the same federal agent, right?”

“I know, sir, not much surprises me anymore, but this did. There’s videos of her singing all over the internet, she was on the local news, quite the young star.”

“And the other victims?”

“All singers, sir. Every last one.”

“Thanks, Garcia.”

He walks back into April’s room, “You used to be a singer.” He says.

She rolls her eyes, “So?”

“So all the other daughters were singers too.” She sets her jaw and won’t meet his eyes. She’s not surprised by this information. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“You didn’t think it was relevant that there was a connection between all of the victims?”

She sighs and she feels shame at his obvious disappointment, “I’m sorry. I’ve worked really hard to block it out, sometimes I honestly forget.”

“What else aren’t you telling me?”

She bites her lip and looks down at her hands, picking at the cuticles around her thumb again, “He made me sing while… While he raped me.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No. I swear.”

He stares at her for moment and she knows he’s trying to see if she’s lying. It makes her angry at him, but also at herself. Maybe Hotch had never been as fond of her as the others, but he had never distrusted her. Just another thing the unsub had taken from her. “What song did he make you sing?”

The question is so painful to think about that she visibly flinches, “Do you really need to know that?”

“You know I do.” He says softly.

She looks away from him again, back to the cuticle on her thumb that she’s made bleed, “Like A Virgin by Madonna.”

He places his hand over hers again and she finds it almost alarming the way his touch seems to immediately calm her. “April, we won’t stop until we find him. I promise.”

She gives him a teary smile, “Will you stay with me?”

He smiles back at her, giving her a hand a slight squeeze and his smile takes her breath away, “I’ll be glued to your side until this case is over.”

***

A couple hours later they had found out that there was a classic date rape drug in April’s system: Gamma-hydroxybutyric acid, or GHB. The drug is usually prescribed for narcolepsy, but it was most often obtained illegally from Mexican pharmacies which they assumed was how the unsub got it.

“I’m bringing you back to the police station so you can stay with me and the team like I promised, but you don’t have to keep working the case.” Hotch says as he drives.

“Funny that you think you can stop me from working the case.”

He smirks a bit and brings his attention back to the road.

“What do you guys have for a profile so far?” He looks over at her, frowning. “What? I know you guys have been working while I’ve been reliving my trauma so what’ve you got?”

“White male, when he murdered your family he was probably in his twenties so now we’re guessing mid thirties to early forties. The torture is consistent with a sadist. Killing an entire family is an incredibly high risk crime which suggests he’s a narcissist, but also very organized. He’s able to control four people at once without much difficulty and he’s never left a shred of physical evidence behind except on the daughters. This means he’s arrogant and--” Hotch cuts himself off.

“What?”

“You said you showered before calling 911. Why?”

“I… I told you he left… He left his semen all over me, I was just a kid, I wanted a shower--”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. Yes, you were traumatized, but every kid has it hardwired in their brain that as soon as something bad happens the first thing they do is call 911.”

“Okay, well I didn’t.”

He presses some buttons on the console of the car and then Garcia’s voice is coming through the speaker, “At your service, sir.”

“Garcia, in any of the family murders, was there a rape kit done on any of the daughters?”

“Well, surely there must have been-- Oh. No, no rape kits, not on any of them.”

“Does a police report tell you why?”

“I’m checking… and…” There’s a sigh from Penelope.

“What is it, Garcia?”

“All of them showered before calling 911.”

April is already shaking her head, “No, no that can’t be right.”

“Did any of them report why they showered before calling for help?”

“Most of them, like April, just reported that they felt icky and needed to shower, but the first one, the very first victim Katie Yates, she reported that the unsub made her shower. Like, held her at gunpoint, marched her to the bathroom, and watched. Once he was satisfied with how clean she was, he left while she was still in the shower.”

“That’s not what happened,” April says quietly, her eyes closed.

“Thank you, Garcia.” Hotch says and hangs up the phone before she can respond, “April--”

“No.” She says fiercely, “I’m telling you that’s not what happened.”

“Every other aspect of the crime is controlled and calculated, he wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving DNA all over his victims--”

“I would remember that if he did--”

“No,” Hotch says gently. He had pulled into the police station now, putting the car in park, “No, because you didn’t want to remember. Just that one memory, that one you wanted so badly to believe was your own. That he wasn’t there for the shower. But he was, wasn’t he?”

“Please stop.” She said breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere and he puts his hand over hers, “Look at me.” She doesn’t obey immediately so he reaches up to grip her chin and gently turn her face to his. Her eyes are shining and her breathing is uneven, but his eyes are soft and she has the absurd urge to rest her forehead against his. “He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

She nods and swallows. “I need you to walk me through exactly what happened after the rape.” He continues. Her lip trembles, but she nods again. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Hotch--” She whimpers.

“I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time. You know how this goes. Close your eyes.” She takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes. “Good. He’s on top of you still. He’s just finished. Tell me what you feel, what you hear.”

“Um. I’m crying. I can hear my parents crying. His weight on me is making it hard to breathe.” She starts panicking, her breathing quickens.

“April, focus. He’s not here. You’re safe. What about your hands, what are you touching?”

“The carpet. I’m on the floor in the basement.”

“Can you see your parents?”

“Yes,” She gulps, “But I’m trying not to look at them. It’s humiliating.”

“Okay. Now what is he doing?”

“He… He kisses my neck and whispers in my ear ‘Thank you for the show’ and then he stands up.” Her breathing quickens, “He’s walking to my parents, I don’t want to watch, he’s going to kill them, Hotch--!”

“Okay, okay, come back. Open your eyes. I’m here.” His hands come up to cradle her face. She should be startled by her boss touching her like this, but she’s oddly comforted.

Her breathing finally slows, “I’m tired.” She says softly.

“I know. We’re almost done. Close your eyes again, you can do this.” His hands stay on her face as she closes her eyes again, “Okay. Your parents are dead. What does he do now?”

“Uh, I’m screaming. He’s looking at me and laughing and then he grabs my arm and pulls me up from the floor. I struggle and he puts the gun to my head and says if I don’t calm down he’ll blow out my brains like he did my parents. And then… He walks me up the stairs to the bathroom…” Her breathing becomes rapid again, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Yes you can.” Hotch’s voice is low and soothing. He believes in you, she thinks to herself, if he thinks you can do this, you can.

“He turns on the shower. I’m already naked and once I’m in the shower he starts undressing.” Silent tears stream down her cheeks and she’s distantly aware of Hotch gently wiping them away with the pads of his thumbs. “He comes in the shower. He’s touching me. I’m begging him to stop. Oh, God.”

“April, stay there. He’s undressed, he’s taken the mask off, do you recognize him?”

She’s shaking her head, “I can’t… I can’t look.”

“The water’s hitting your skin, his hands are on you--”

“Stop.”

“Look up, April.”

Despite herself, she listens. She’s in that shower, significantly smaller than she is now, and she looks up to see blue eyes looking down at her. Shaggy brown hair nearly covers them, especially now that it’s wet. He has a smirk on his face and crooked front teeth. There’s a tattoo on his right arm of a cross.

“Okay, okay that’s enough, you did it.” Hotch’s voice pulls her back out and she becomes aware of the car that’s still around them and the fact that she’s sobbing. “You’re okay. You’re safe. You did so good.” She falls forward in his arms and after a moment of hesitation he wraps his arms around her, holding her until her breathing settles. It takes him a moment to realize that anyone could look in the SUV and find him in a seemingly compromising position with his subordinate and he pulls away. To his shock, she seems to look disappointed. “You ready to go inside?”

“Yeah.” She says and without another word, she gets out of the car. Hotch can’t deny that he feels like he’s done something wrong as he watches April walk into the station.

When April walks in the station, her whole team cranes their heads to watch her, but she heads straight for the coffee without looking at anyone. Hotch files in soon after.

“Is she okay?” Reid asks, the rest of the team waits for his answer.

“I just gave her a cognitive interview, I’m sure she’s upset.”

“Did you learn anything?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” Hotch nods, “She remembers what he looks like and she identified a tattoo on his right arm.”

“We should have Garcia run that, see if we can get an ID.” Morgan says.

“Call a sketch artist as well.” Hotch looks up at where April was standing just a few moments ago to see her gone, “Excuse me.”

***

April’s hands shake so hard as she tries to pour the coffee she ends up putting it down in frustration. “Need some help?” She turns to see Billy, standing there smirking at her.

Sighing, she stands back and gestures for him to go ahead. He steps in to pour the coffee, “Pretty elaborate ruse you got going on, staging a break in at your hotel room with that teddy bear.”

She stares at him in disbelief, “You still think I did this?”

“I think,” He says, handing her a cup of coffee, “That you’re impulsive and you went to confront Brandon and you didn’t mean to kill him, but you did and now this is all to cover everything up.”

“Oh,” She scoffs and starts walking away from him, “You are delusional and a dick.”

He follows April into another room and closes the door behind them, “Open the door.” She says when she realizes she’s shut in.

“You and your stupid FBI team are making this whole police force look bad, you need to drop the investigation.”

“The cases cross state lines, we have jurisdiction.”

“Yeah, you would have jurisdiction if there was a real case, but there isn’t. You’re a pathological liar and you can’t even see it. Brandon Perry murdered your family and raped you and just can’t let it go.”

“You’re a sick son of a bitch,” She walks around him to the door, but he turns quickly and places his palm against the door, slamming it shut again. “Let me out.” She says slowly.

“I’ll let you out when you promise me that you’re going to march out there and tell them that you’ve been lying this whole time and then march your pretty ass back to D.C.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll arrest you for the murder of Brandon Perry.”

“You have no evidence.”

“Oh, April, April, April. I know you know what a coerced confession is here. And I also know that you know a jury of your peers here in Maine would send you to prison for less.”

There’s a sharp knock on the door and Billy finally steps away. When she opens it, Hotch is on the other side, “Everything okay in here?”

“Just fine, Agent Hotchner. Isn’t that right April?” Billy says and grabs a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger and tugging, exactly like he used to when he sat behind her in middle school.

April slaps her hand on his wrist and twists his arm around until he yells. “You lay a hand on me or threaten me again, I will make sure you don’t have a career here anymore. Understood?”

“You can’t--” He starts, but she twists his arm further.

“Am I clear?” She says again.

“Alright, fine!”

She shoves him away and he stumbles, nearly falling to the floor as April storms out, Hotch still standing in the doorway, watching Billy.

“I told you,” Billy says, pushing himself to standing, “She’s a crazy bitch.”

“Detective, let me make myself very clear. If you continue to harass my agent or impede on this investigation in any way, not only will I make sure you never have a career in law enforcement again, I will arrest you for obstructing a federal investigation.”

Billy shakes his head, “She’s got you all wrapped around her finger.”

“And I think your boss has you wrapped around his finger. He’s the one who arrested Brandon Perry. Seems like he would have a lot more to lose if he was wrong than you would.”

“He wasn’t wrong.”

“Then let us conduct the investigation. If it leads back to Brandon Perry, then so be it.”

“You really think she’d accept that?”

“If the evidence led us there, she would. Now stay out of our investigation if you value your job.” Hotch leaves without giving him time to respond and then tries to find April.

“Are you alright?” He asks when he finds her. She’s sitting alone at a conference table.

“I’m fine, Billy’s just an asshole.”

“There’s more to your relationship than you told me to begin with.”

She frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“You said you came up here to visit a friend. Who were you visiting?”

“I’m tired of being interrogated--”

“The reason Billy is so sure you killed Brandon Perry is because you were with him that night and then you left suddenly, isn’t it?”

April sighs and looks down at the table, “Hotch, I appreciate everything you’re doing to help, but who I was with and what I was doing that night doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t kill Brandon so please just drop it.”

He shakes his head and he looks almost frustrated with April, but that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he care so much about her relationship with Billy? “I don’t understand why you would waste your time on a cop like that, look at what a mess it put you in.”

She frowns, “With all due respect, sir, it’s really not your business who I’m sleeping with.”

“Why did you leave that night if you didn’t kill Brandon?”

She scoffs, “I can’t believe this.”

“Answer the question.”

She was angry with him. Practically bursting at the seams with rage. Just like every other man, thinking he’s entitled to everything about her. They all disappointed her in the end. “Billy and I had a fight and I wanted to be alone.”

“What was the fight about?”

“He wanted to be an official couple again. I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

She tilts her head to the side, “Just because I’m a good fuck doesn’t mean he gets to claim me. Like you said, he’s just a stupid cop and I could do better. Now will you leave me alone?”

April recognized that look in his eyes: He was jealous. Aaron Hotchner was jealous that she had a sexual relationship with another man. And suddenly her anger evaporated and was replaced by desire. She supposed she did always have a thing for older men which she was sure a profiler would say had to do with her dead dad. Either way, she sent a smoldering glare his way until he left her alone.

When he left, she rested her head on the table in exhaustion and didn’t notice Emily had approached until she heard the seat in front of her being pulled out. She raises her head and manages a smile, “Hi.”

“How are you doing?” She asks.

“Better now that you’re here, I’m tired of all the men around here.”

She laughs, “Good. Well, the sketch artist is here and I’m sad to report that he is a man.” April groans. “But, I will stay with you if you want and then I think we’re all going to work through the night, but Hotch was talking about bringing you back to the hotel to get some rest. It sounds like you had a rough day.”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “Cognitive interviews are the worst.”

As promised, Emily sits with her while she talks to the sketch artist and Hotch walks over not long after. When it’s finished, Emily gives your hand a squeeze and leaves with the sketch to pin to the evidence board.

“You should get some rest, I’ll take you back to the hotel now.” Hotch says, hands in his pockets. It was intriguing to her that he could act like he didn’t just ask about her sex life only an hour ago.

“I can’t sleep in that room again.”

“You can sleep in mine. I’ll sleep on the floor,” He adds quickly upon seeing the look on her face.

She sighs, “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, just don’t touch me.”

“Won’t be a problem.” And with the indifference in his tone, she thought maybe she had actually imagined everything earlier.

“Great.” She murmurs and gets up to walk out first.

Hotch stays behind for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and Rossi comes up behind him, “You picked a terrible time to start giving her hints about the way you feel, Aaron.”

“We’re trying to solve a case about her family’s murder and all I can think about is how pissed off it makes me to know that she’s been sleeping with someone else.”

“You’re human.”

Hotch just shakes his head and walks away.

***

“Daddy driving you home?”

The voice behind April makes her jump, her hand flying automatically to her gun.

“Woah, it’s just me April.” Billy laughs, leaning up against the station building, “You really are on edge, lately, huh? A sign of guilt or genuine fear?”

She could strangle him right here, she thinks. But instead, she reigns in her temper and leans against the wall next to him, “What about your daddy, huh? Haven’t seen him here all day. Is he too busy making wrongful arrests?”

Billy scoffs, “Yeah, and how’s your stupid little profile going? Did you find the real killer yet?”

She sighs, “You cops are all the same, think your old fashioned police work is better than profiling.”

Billy looks like he’s about to respond, but Hotch walks through the door just then, “There’s daddy, you better hurry up and get in the car like a good girl.”

Hotch barely registers what Billy’s said before April launches herself at him, fists flying. He immediately reacts, grabbing her arms, “Hunter, hey, hey! That’s enough! Get in the car.” He says sternly.

She shakes him off, but walks to the car all the same.

“Fucking bitch.” Billy mutters, drawing Hotch’s attention back to him.

“Detective, I thought I made myself clear that you were to stay away from my agent and out of my case.”

Billy steps up, eye to eye with Hotch, “This is my station, agent. Back off.”

Hotch stares him down for a few more moments, “The superintendent will be hearing from me tomorrow, at the very least you’ll be getting suspended. Maybe now’s a good time for you to clean out your desk.” And then he turns and walks back to the SUV, ignoring Billy’s curses behind him.

Once Hotch is in the SUV and starts driving away, he starts talking to April, “When you’re out in the field you represent me, you represent the team, and the whole bureau. You can’t just--”

“I don’t need a lecture right now.”

He’s surprised to hear tears in her voice and it softens him immediately, “April, I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you today.”

“You’ve only done what you need to do to solve the case, you shouldn’t apologize.”

“No, no, I… I shouldn’t have questioned you about Billy earlier. You were right, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s fine.” She says. First indifference, now an apology. Maybe she really had imagined everything. “I just want to sleep.”

***

Hotch works for a while by the light of the lamp when you get into bed, poring over the case files again and again, trying to figure out if they had missed anything. He’s pretty sure April is actually sleeping and once he’s sure he can’t get any more work done, he turns off the lamp and gets ready for bed.

He slips in the bed as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake her, but there’s the smallest moan that escapes her lips when the mattress shifts. A moment later, she turns over, still in sleep and slings her arm over his chest, sighing contentedly as she rests her head on his chest. Hotch freezes, unsure of how to react before slowly wrapping his arms around her in return. Her shampoo smells like peaches and vanilla and he breathes it in deeply knowing in the morning she’ll pretend this never happened.

***

When April wakes up and finds herself in Hotch’s arms, legs tangled under the sheets, she does her best not to panic. With the way they were positioned, it was clear she had initiated this which was all the more embarrassing. Lucky for her though, she doesn’t have to figure out her next move because his phone rings. She pretends to be asleep as he slowly comes to wakefulness and reaches for his phone.

“Hotchner.” His voice is husky from sleep and it sends a thrill through her and she imagines for a moment what it would be like if Aaron Hotchner was hers. Then she hears Billy’s voice in her head calling him her daddy and the moment sours.

“Okay.” He says after a few moments, “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

He ends the call and sets the phone back on the nightstand, but to her surprise, he doesn’t immediately wake her. “Are you awake?” He whispers after a few moments and she tries not to balk.

“Mmm.” Is all she manages and she keeps her eyes closed, not sure she can meet his eyes like this.

“They’ve, um… Another family was killed last night.” He tries to say it as gently as possible, but she shoots up in bed anyway, “The daughter was killed as well this time.”

She’s shaking her head, “No… No, that can’t be. She has to… She can’t be dead.”

“It’s probably a message to you.” Hotch says calmly.

She scoffs, “That’s great. A whole family’s dead because of me.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Oh, like hell it isn’t.” She says, climbing out of bed and pulling on her jeans. She doesn’t fully realize who she’s getting dressed in front of until Hotch tries to subtly avert his eyes. “I should’ve solved this case years ago. I’ve known it was serial for a while. I could have saved them.”

“You know as well as I do that thinking like that isn’t helpful for anyone.” He says, following her lead and getting dressed in front of her. The fact that they’re both acting like nothing out of the ordinary has taken place between them makes everything somehow even more intimate.

She sighs, “Let’s just get over there.” And she walks into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

***

April can feel the bile rising in her throat as her team mills around the crime scene. She’s crouched next to the girl, Layla, whose throat had been slit. She had also been stabbed too many times to be counted by the naked eye. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, but April could see the fear there. He had left her here, in front of her parents’ bodies, naked. “He went through the entire ritual, even the shower, then brought her back down here and killed her.”

“He’s always been very controlled and organized, but this last kill is full of rage.” Prentiss notices.

April frowns as she looks at Layla’s throat and notices that it almost seems to be bulging, “I think there’s something in her throat.” She pulls on her latex gloves while everyone crowds around her and then gently prys the girl’s jaw open. Reaching in, her fingers brush what feels like crumpled paper at the back of her throat and April pulls it out. Heart racing, she smooths it open.

Welcome home, April. I’d like to see the woman I’ve created. Arrive alone at the place where we first met, 20:00.

Everyone was silent as April read the note over and over after reading it aloud the first time. The word “alone” had been underlined several times. There was no threat attached to it, but April knew it was one all the same.

“We’ll have to call SWAT and let them know, we’ll also have to prepare the local police--”

“No.” April cut off Hotch, “You can’t be serious, he said to come alone.”

“April, his end game is clearly to kill you, if you go there by yourself you won’t come back out. And I already told you you’re not allowed to handle the arrest.”

“This is our one shot to get him,” Her eyes water, “This family died because of me--”

“Hunter--”

“Stop.” The tears fall down her cheeks and he wants to brush them away like he had the day before. “I won’t let this happen again, I’m going to see him by myself.”

“At least go in with a wire, we’ll stay a safe distance away.” Morgan bargained.

She shifts her attention to Morgan, to her team who are all looking at her sadly. Concern dripping heavy from their limbs. “No SWAT.” She insists, “Just this team.”

Hotch sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “You’re sure you can handle this?”

She wasn’t, but she nods anyway.

“Fine.” Is all he says before walking away.

***

Aaron is conscious of her eyes on him as he helps her put the wire on, “You steer the conversation away from yourself when you’re in there. Don’t let your guard down for a second. He’s going to try to get in your head, blame you for what he’s done. Don’t let him, just feed his ego and then call us when you’ve got him. Okay?”

“Yeah.” She says quietly.

He finishes putting the wire on and leans away from her in the surveillance van, “I can go in with you.” He says, giving it one last shot.

“No.”

He nods resolutely, “Promise me you’ll walk out of there alive.” She avoids meeting his eyes, “April.”

Finally she locks her eyes to his, “I’m scared.” She says, and her voice shakes.

It’s the first time he’s heard her admit it. He’d known she felt it, but she’d never admitted it. “Listen to me.” He says firmly, “You are not the twelve year old girl he knew. You’re stronger than him. You can do this.”

She takes a deep breath and nods, moving around him to exit the van.

“Be careful.” He says one last time and he thinks maybe she’s aware of just how worried he is about her, his eyes full of concern.

She gives him a small smile before turning away and walking down the street, rounding the last block to her childhood home, the house she hadn’t entered again since the murders. The town was small and since everyone knew what had happened there, it had never been sold.

April stands just outside the house for a minute, hand hovering just above her gun, trying to get both hands to stop shaking. Hotch believes in you. She reminds herself, recalling his words in the van. She can do this.

She’d been avoiding thinking about all his touches in the last few days. The way his rough, callused fingers felt so gentle on her face when she cried. The way he’d wrapped his arms around her in sleep, almost protectively. The way when he woke to answer his phone this morning he had absently stroked her shoulder. Did they mean anything to him or was he just an overworked, touch starved man, desperate for any sort of attention, even from her.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she headed for the door, raising her gun as she approached. The door was already slightly ajar and she pushed it lightly with the pads of her fingers. Carefully, she cleared each room, heart ricocheting against her rib cage, though she already knew where he’d be waiting for her.

After they had found the last family, Garcia had been able to ID the killer based on the sketch and the tattoo as Allen Grey. He had the usual tough past, abusive father and mother, grew up in poverty. His parents died when he was still young and his older sister was left to take care of him, and she then continued the cycle of abuse, escalating to sexual assault. It explained the mercy for the young boys and torture of the eldest daughters, but April couldn’t bring herself to feel sympathy for him.

She stood at the top of the basement stairs, could already see the lights on down there and could hear Madonna’s Like a Virgin playing on vinyl. April hated the way her body reacted, the way everything in her was telling her to run. She was a federal agent for Christ’s sake, she took down killers like this one all the time. He was no different, she tried to assure herself, he was just like the rest. And then she steeled herself, brought her gun back up in front of her at eye level, and began descending the stairs.

“There you are! Welcome home, April!” Allen says cheerfully as you point the gun at him, “Now, now, come on, I don’t have a weapon,” He raises his hands, “Why don’t you holster that gun, Agent Hunter.” He had an arrogant smirk on his face.

Tears stung the corners of her eyes and her finger flexed on and off the trigger, wanting so bad to just pull it and be done with it. But she knew her team was listening and this was exactly why Hotch hadn’t wanted her in the field for this. She lowered her weapon and put it back in her holster.

“That’s better. Why don’t you have a seat?” He gestured to the worn out table and chairs, “Let’s have a drink. Talk.”

She swallowed thickly, “No thank you.” She managed.

“No, come on now, April. We have to catch up!”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He smiles at her again and comes closer to her. Slowly, he pulls a knife out of his pocket and brings it up for her to see. She balks, but he quickly grabs her from the back of her neck to keep her steady and runs the knife gently over her face. “You were always so clever, April.” She keeps eye contact with him, doing her best not to show any fear. “So pretty and smart. I only followed you, after, you know? You were… number two, I believe. I chased the high I got with you with everyone after, but none of them were the same.”

“Is that why you stopped for a while after the fourth family?”

He nods, “Like I said, you were always so smart. And then I saw how you became obsessed with people like me, went to college to study criminal justice, always thinking about me. Joined the FBI because you were so obsessed with me, weren’t you, little April?”

She wanted to spit in his face, but she remembered what Hotch said about feeding into his ego, “They say you never forget your first.” She says cooly, almost seductively.

It works, an arrogant smile twists its way up his face and he pockets the knife. “All I ever wanted was to find you,” She says, slipping into character, “See those blue eyes again. I dream about them every night.” None of these statements are lies, but the tone she takes when delivering them, the sweetness she adds to it, the act she puts on makes bile rise in her own throat.

“I knew it.” He says, looking at her with newfound desire, “We’re soulmates, you know?” His words are gentle, but he grips her by the hair again and pulls, exposing her neck. “Let’s run away together, baby.”

“Okay.” She says softly, “I’m ready.”

Hotch is already ordering the team to go in, jumping out of the back of the van with Morgan. Through his earpiece, he listens closely to you. He can hear your fear in the way you’re breathing, but he’s not sure Allen is picking it up from you.

When she agrees to go with him, he spins her and shoves her against a wall, her head painfully bouncing off the cement. He laughs as she winces and then leans in to kiss her throat, “Are you going to tell your team to leave us alone?” He reaches under her shirt where the wire is and yanks it off her. “April, April, April. My clever, clever girl. You had to know I would have expected you not to come by yourself.”

He pushes himself off her and walks to the table, reaching under it and pulling out a gun that he had taped there earlier.

April’s jaw tenses as he raises the gun to point it at her head, “You won’t kill me.” She says smoothly, though she’s not sure she believes it herself.

“No,” He cocks the gun and turns slightly to aim towards the doorway, “But if Aaron Hotchner walks through that doorway I’ll kill him.”

She does her best to betray nothing, but a muscle in her jaw jumps involuntarily and he narrows his eyes at her, “Yeah, I thought you liked him.”

“I care about everyone on my team.” She says stiffly.

He shakes his head, “No. Don’t forget April, I’ve been watching you. I know your weaknesses as I’m sure you know mine and the past few days here I’ve noticed the way you look at Agent Hotchner when you think he’s not looking. But he always notices because he’s always aware of you, even when he tries his hardest not to be. So, April, I’ll give you one chance,” He hands the wire back over to her, “Tell Aaron to back off.”

Reluctantly, she takes the wire from him. “Hotch,” She breathes, “Stand down.”

Hotch holds a hand up to the team on the outside, signaling them to stand down, though he can barely hear past the roaring in his ears.

“There,” Her voice comes in his earpiece again, “Are you happy now?”

“I’ll be happy when he hears me kill you and knows there’s nothing he can do to stop it.”

“I thought we were running away together.”

“You think I can’t tell when you’re playing me?”

“No, I know you can’t tell when I’m playing you.” Something in April had unlocked when Allen threatened Hotch. Threatened her team. And she knew Hotch could hear them and though she had told him to stand down, he was trying to figure out another way to get to her. He wouldn’t stop until she was out of there, whether it ended with both her and Allen in body bags or Allen in cuffs. But she wouldn’t let it come to that.

“Since you’ve been watching me my whole life, you know the entire town thought I killed my own family and that I lied about the whole thing. Do you know why they thought that? Because they saw in me what my team sees in people like you.” She walks up to him, and though every instinct screams to run, she instead places a hand on his chest, “That night… you made me into you. So no, Allen,” It’s the first time she uses his name and she relishes the shock that lights in his eyes, “You can’t tell when I’m playing you.” Capitalizing on his surprise, she disarms him the way Morgan has drilled into her over and over, quickly slamming his wrist into the nearest surface and catching the gun when he releases his grip. Faster, she takes a step back from him and draws her gun as well, now pointing two weapons at him, “And I think you’ve overplayed your hand, babe.”

He raises his hands and now there’s genuine fear in his eyes, “April--”

“I’d like you to very slowly remove the knife from your pocket and toss it to the floor and if you even think about launching it at me, just know that I am a very good shot and I have been dreaming about killing you every day since I was twelve, don’t tempt me.” Her voice shakes, but this time not from fear, but from anger that she’d harbored close to her chest since the man who stood in front of her stole everything from her.

As Allen slowly does as he’s told, April hears footsteps on the stairs and is relieved when she spots another gun trained on Allen in her peripheral. Morgan begins to walk to Allen, but April stops him, “No.” She says, “I want to do it.”

He nods and redraws his gun, backing away. She holsters her own weapon and hands Allen’s gun back to Hotch without looking at him. Drawing cuffs from her pocket, she walks behind Allen who has managed to get a smirk back on his face. The sight breaks something in her and she roughly shoves him against the wall, feeling satisfaction at his grunt of pain when his face collides with the cement. She tightens the cuffs a bit more than necessary and begins stating his rights to him as she marches him up the stairs.

“I’m going to be a legend, you know? They’ll make all these dateline documentaries about me and the families I’ve killed.” He’s smiling still as April shoves him in the backseat of Billy’s police car. She’s trying not to think about the fact that he showed up here.

“Prisoners don’t look too fondly on those among them who kill and rape children, Allen, and I’m going to make sure that whatever cell block you rot in knows exactly what you’ve done. Have a nice life.” And she slams the car door.

Billy’s watching her as she does so, “I’m sorry.” He says simply.

April sighs, “I don’t care.” She says without looking at him and then walks away.

Hotch is watching her, arms crossed and frowning deeply. She stops in front of him, tilting her head to the side and noticing the concern written all over his face as he sizes her up, “Thank you for backing off when I asked you to. I know that was hard for you.”

He simply pushes himself off the car that he was leaning against and pulls her to his chest. She feels surprised for a moment, but then wraps her arms around his waist in return, breathing him in, focusing on his touch rather than Allen’s. And when the sobs begin to wrack her body, he just holds her tighter. He knows the rest of the team is watching and maybe he’ll have to explain this later, the way he rests his head on top of hers to reassure himself as much as her, but he doesn’t much care. He’d been fairly certain she was going to die in there and he’d never have the chance to tell her how he really felt.

Hotch drives back to the hotel with her sleeping in the passenger seat. The medics had checked her out and concluded that she didn’t really have any injuries, but his heart had nearly shattered in his chest when April asked if there was any way they could refill her sleeping medication. They had been unable to, but decided to give her a few doses of ambien anyway, to last her until she could call her prescriber back in DC.

“You can take as much time off as you need when we get back.” He had said as they climbed in the SUV, his too big FBI jacket wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she immediately popped the ambien in her mouth.

“I don’t need to take time off.” Was all she said before she curled herself in a tiny ball, facing the car door, and fell asleep only minutes later.

Now, he pulled into the hotel parking lot, rain falling gently against the windows and debated whether he should wake her. “April.” He said softly, gently shaking her shoulder.

“Mmm.” She murmurs and her eyes flutter. Still straddling the line between sleep and wakefulness, seeing Hotch’s face above hers prompts a small smile. “Aaron.” She says softly and reaches her hand up to touch his face.

Hearing her use his first name so tenderly sends a jolt through him, but he reminds himself that she’s sedated, albeit lightly, from the ambien. “Do you think you can walk up to the hotel room?”

She nods sleepily and he quickly gets out of the car to help her out of the other side, pulling the hood of his jacket over her head to shield her from the rain. She walks slowly because of the drug, but he doesn’t mind. And when she slides her hand down to his to intertwine their fingers, he doesn’t mind that either. When they get to the hotel room she wordlessly strips down to her underwear and climbs into bed.

He stares at her for a while, unsure if she would want him in the bed or not, and decides it’ll be safest to sleep on the couch. He begins taking some cushions off the couch when he hears her voice, “Aaron?” There was his name again. He wasn’t sure why hearing her say it had him coming undone, but he wanted her to repeat it over and over again.

“Yes?”

“Why won’t you come to bed?”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times before responding, “I was going to sleep on the couch.” She’s quiet for too long and he thinks she must’ve fallen asleep so he turns back to the couch.

“I don’t want to sleep alone.” Her voice is so quiet, he wonders if he imagined it. But when he turns back to the bed, she’s watching him, eyes full of sadness and what he thinks might also be desire. He can’t say no to her. She continues watching him as he takes off his clothes, first unbuttoning his shirt. She watches him carefully, no traces of shyness and he tries his best not to let on the way her attention affects him. He undoes his belt buckle and then pulls off his pants before walking to the bed, pushing the sheets aside, and climbing in.

She turns to him and brings their faces close enough that just another inch would have them rubbing noses together. “Why have you been so nice to me this whole case?”

It’s not what he was expecting her to say and he frowns, “It was a tough case for you that brought back a lot of trauma, why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

She shrugs, “I know you’ve never liked me the way you like the rest of the team--”

“That’s not true--”

“Aaron.” He wonders if maybe she’s caught on to the way saying his name affects him as his mouth closes immediately, “I’m not stupid, I haven’t been here nearly as long as the others and I certainly never open myself up in front of them the way the rest of you do. It’s not anyone’s fault, I’m just… Not a part of the family. But this case… You treated me the way you would treat Reid, JJ, Morgan, Prentiss… Any of them. Why?”

“The second you join this team you’re a part of this family and I’m sorry we made you feel otherwise.”

She rolls her eyes and turns her head to look at the ceiling, “Would you have shared a bed with any of them?”

Heat floods his face and he’s glad she’s not looking at him. “No.” He says and he’s sure his voice, thick with desire has betrayed him.

But April only nods, still staring at the ceiling, “Is it just because you’re lonely?”

It’s then that he realizes what she’s getting at. He hears the vulnerability in her voice, the fear there. She thinks she’s not good enough for him and it breaks his heart even further. “April, look at me.” She manages to turn her head to him and her eyes are glassy. “You have shown the last few days how incredibly resilient, intelligent, and just amazing you are. You can’t really think that the only reason I keep reaching for you is because I’m lonely.”

She smiles sadly, “You wouldn’t be the first.”

A lesser man would’ve taken this personally, perhaps groan about how she could think so little of him, but Aaron was different. He understood what she’d been through, that he could have been Superman himself and she’d still have her doubts.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to prove it to you.”

She turns her head back to him and frowns, a trace of amusement on her face, “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Hesitantly, he reaches out and strokes a thumb across her cheek, “I’d like to start by just holding you tonight, if that’s alright.”

She closes her eyes at his touch, nuzzling her face further into his palm and he melts. “I’d like that.” She says softly.

So he gently wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to him. Her little sigh of contentment as she settles against his chest is almost too much for him to take. “Aaron?” She says after he's spent a few moments just listening to her heartbeat.

“Hm?”

“You’re the only man I’ve ever felt truly safe around.”

He feels her sadness then and he tightens his grip around her to convey that he’s sorry she feels that way, but he’s grateful for her trust. They fall asleep like that and neither attempt to move away from the other the entire night.

***

“So this is a date.” It had been about two months since they had gotten back from Maine and Aaron had been nothing but a gentleman to her. So much so, in fact, that at some points she thought he was no longer interested in her.

He chuckles, “It’s not a date. We’re meeting the team.”

“Yes, but you’re taking me,” April grins, linking her arm through his as they walk towards the bar, “So it’s a date.”

“If it was a date I would’ve done this--” Hotch spins her in front of him and abruptly kisses her. At first, she freezes, but when he gently nips at her bottom lip she moans slightly, kissing him back. As sudden as it began, it ends and Aaron is staring at her with a look of such arrogant satisfaction she wants to slap him.

“Okay, so it is a date.” She murmurs quietly as Aaron steps around her and walks away, “I knew it.”

When Aaron opens the door to the bar for her, he casually slips his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. He notes her questioning look from the corner of his eye, but just squeezes her hand in response. And instead of detaching herself from him when the team notes their arrival, she squeezes his hand in return, even when the relentless teasing from the team commences.

Aaron only slips away from her to go get them drinks and even then she looks back for him. It’s the most unsure of herself he’s ever seen her and it only broadens his grin.

“You finally did it, eh? Attaboy, Aaron.” Rossi’s already at the bar, a whiskey in hand and another on the bar that he slides to Aaron. He takes it and then orders April a gin and tonic.

“It’s just one date, Rossi. She’s still… hesitant.”

“She doesn’t look hesitant,” Rossi says, looking over his shoulder, “She hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you walked away from her.”

Aaron smirks, “Yes, well, I’ve discovered playing hard to get is very effective with her.” He tips the bartender and clinks his glass with Rossi before walking back over to April. When he hands her the drink, she seems to shrink into his side, taking larger gulps of her drink than he thought she should.

“Slow down,” He plucks the drink from her hand and places it on a nearby table, “Why are you so nervous?”

“Look at all of them just staring at us, I feel pressured.”

“Pressured into what, being with me?”

“Aaron, no,” She places a hand on his arm, sensing the insecurity rising in him, “I want to be with you.”

“Then what?”

She shrugs and reaches for her drink again, but Aaron covers her hand before she can, clearly expecting an answer from her. She sighs and looks up at him, “I feel pressure to be perfect because I can see on their faces how much they love you and I don’t want to fuck this up and then you all hate me because I wasn’t good enough for you.” It all comes out in a rush and she feels breathless after admitting it, her cheeks reddening as he lifts his hand, allowing her to reach for her drink.

“April, they like you just as much as they like me.” She rolls her eyes and he reaches out to tip her chin up gently with his fingers, “You could never mess this up.”

“I messed it up with Billy.”

He drops his hand, unable to hide the annoyance and jealousy on his face at the mention of Billy, “Billy was an immature boy who didn’t know how to treat you anyway.”

She smirks, “And you’re a big strong man who can sweep me off my feet at a moment’s notice?” He manages the smallest of smiles as a slow song starts playing, “Come on, Hotchner. Ask me to dance.”

“You want to dance in front of the team?”

“Well you brought me here to show me off, didn’t you?” He gives her a look like he’s offended she would even think so and she laughs, “Please?” She pouts, “Billy would dance with me if he were here.” She adds teasingly, her eyes glittering with mischief.

Hotch shakes his head at her, but he’s grinning, “You love causing trouble, don’t you?” And she laughs in response as he takes her hand and pulls her to the dance floor, letting his left hand rest gently on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers.

He twirls her around the room and with the whole team watching, he kisses her as the song ends. Their lips worked together to teach each other their own dance and for a moment, it’s just the two of them, until the rest of the team starts jeering and April pulls away, her face flushed. Aaron is still looking at her, smiling and she reaches up with her thumb to swipe at his mouth, “I got some lipstick on you.” She says quietly.

“Can I take you home?” He says finally and his voice is husky and full of want.

She wonders if he’s aware of how alluring the sound of his voice is. “Yeah.” She responds swallowing.

He leads her out of the bar after much protesting from the rest of the team, but all he wants and needs is to get April, April who’s smiling at him from ear to ear, home and in bed with him. They settle into their new relationship with ease, the team noting that they’d never seen either of them smile so much and all of April’s fears and insecurities melted away day by day.

As long as her unit chief quietly placed a coffee on her desk every morning with a sweet note attached to it, she figured she could overcome anything.