#and what would make them more intense than if their kiddo is in danger

[gravidwithlore]

Building a Home: Flash Forward

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Didnt post this for a while bc I wasn't sure if people would be interested esp bc it's not kinky, not even a little bit. And also I was going to add more at the beginning and end of another characters perspective, but hell with it! I wrote it for me, and I had fun, and I want to share it! So have some whump/comfort featuring 5 year old Wulf and all of his parents.

______________________

Wulf was trying very hard not to be scared. One of the other kids was crying earlier, and one of the mean bad guys hit them so hard that now they had a cut on their lip and now their face was starting to turn a purpley color. So Wolf was trying very hard not to be scared. Or at least not to show that he was scared. All of his parents had always told him it's okay to be scared, or sad, or angry, to feel what you need to feel, but that sometimes our emotions made us act in ways that hurt other people, hurt ourselves, or could make a situation worse. Wulf felt like if he showed his scared, it would definitely make this situation worse.  

Thinking about his parents made him think about his Papa, and thinking about the last time he saw his Papa made tears start to burn his eyes. So he tried not to think of his Papa. But there wasn't much to do in the dank cold caves he and the other kids were being kept prisoner in, so he ended up circling back to thinking about his Papa despite trying very hard not to think about his Papa. 

Ever since the triplets were born, Papa had made an effort of setting aside time just for him and Wulf. And Wulf loved his little siblings very much, but he always loved just Papa and Wulf time. And today, or was it yesterday? It was so hard to tell here, but he'd just wanted to show Papa a cool plant he'd found a few days ago while playing with some of the village boys. His Papa had been trying to do art lately, and Wulf thought it would be really pretty to draw. And maybe later Bama would let them take a look at their big books of different plants, and they could compare Papa and Wulf's pretty drawings to the pictures in the books to see what kind of plant it is! Wulf knew he could ask his Bama to just tell him what the plant was, but it just felt more special this way and he wanted to share it with his Papa during Papa and Wulf time. 

But when they got to the edge of the farm, Papa had gotten tense, and some strange men riding by stopped in front of them. At first Wulf thought their black leather gear looked really cool, but then he noticed how on edge his Papa was. And then he heard the sound of whimpering and crying coming from one of the big sacks the strange men carried on their horses. One of the men knew Papa! Wulf had met people that knew his parents before, people from outside of their village at least. His Jiji sometimes had other bards visit from his super secret order, and his Bama met with other clerics and druids, and he'd even met his Dad's sister a few times, even though she didn't seem to like Papa very much for some reason. But he'd never met anyone who knew his Papa from before, well before he was born he guessed. Wulf had asked a few times but Papa had always looked sort of sad and said he didn't have anyone from before, his family had been gone a long long time. 

But this man knew Papa from before, and Papa was not at all happy to see him. He had put an arm in front of Wulf, and told him to get one of his other parents, and to run! Wulf tried to run, he tried to run so fast, he knew his Mama was just a field over, and his Jiji was still in the house, and he could hear Dad banging away at the forge. But he wasn't fast enough. The chains that wrapped around his middle dug painfully into his arms and chest as they yanked him away from his family and towards the bad riders. He could see his Papa fighting, and he didn't have his sword, not even the wooden swords he sometimes used when sparring with Mama. 

Wulf screamed as loud as he could as he felt one of the strangers arms wrap around him, just like his parents had taught him to do if an adult ever grabbed him without his permission. Papa was still fighting the Bad Man from before, and for the first time in his life Wulf saw his Papa afraid. More afraid than he even knew someone could be afraid. Wulf tried to shout for his Papa, as tears began to stream down his face, but one of the bad people stuffed some gross tasting cloth in his mouth. He tried to kick and punch whoever held him, even though his parents said it wasn't okay to do hits, Wulf felt like this one time would probably be okay. He was the strongest boy in the village, even stronger than the 10 year olds who were twice his age. But even though he heard a crack and the stranger holding him shout in pain, he wasn't strong enough to break out of their grasp. Papa wasn't doing much better, his fists outmatched by the Bad Man’s mean looking sword. But suddenly his Papa had taken one of the knives the Bad Man had stored on his side! He’d always told Wulf stealing was wrong, but to Wulf this felt like a good stealing. 

He renewed his efforts to break free again, struggling against his captors' hold, but again to no avail. The bad strangers started to ride off, and Wulf saw one of them, with an evil looking smile, raise a hand out and cast magic towards his Papa. Wulf tried to warn him, but his mouth was still full of that gross cloth! He struggled, the hardest he'd struggled yet, as they pulled a burlap bag over him and rode off. The last thing he saw was his Papa trying his best to fight off the magic, but losing and collapsing, unconsciousness, into the dirt. 

“Gods-damn I swear that kid broke at least two of my fucking ribs boss.” One of the bad guys complained, his hand holding his side. 

“Shut up, and get these brats into position. We have a limited amount of time to complete the ritual, and I won't be delayed by your bitching.” The Bad Man growled at them. 

“Yeah, sure thing boss.” The bad guy muttered as he warily approached Wulf. Broken out of his thoughts, Wulf went back to planning his escape. So far he was still on the first step: Find a good opportunity to escape. He didn't know what this ritual was, or why he and the other kids were here for it, but he knew it couldn't be good, and he also knew his own window of opportunity was about to close. When the bad guy went to grab him he growled, hoping it would deter him enough to give Wulf some more time to think. The bad guy flinched, but unfortunately he wasn't as scared of Wulf as he was of the Bad Man. 

His parents had always told him cursing was bad, and to do as they say and not as they do, especially his Papa, but this wasn't a time for rules, so Wulf mentally cursed at himself for not being as scary as the Bad Man. He may have been the strongest boy in the village, but he was only 5 years old! The Bad Man had at least 10, maybe 15, more years of experience in being scary than Wulf did! The bad guy shoved him into place, and Wulf could feel panic rising in his chest as the other kids starting crying. None of them knew what was going to happen, but all of them knew it was nothing good, and Wulf still didn't know how he was going to escape. The bad stranger, the one who'd put the spell on his Papa, started chanting, and Wulf tried to stay strong, but he couldn't do anything, he was still so small, and he was so so scared, and his Papa might be dead and-

Before the panicked sob could escape his chest, and loud BOOM! echoed through the cavern and a bright light across from him lit up his- HIS PAPA! And beside him his Dad and his Mama, and a giant wolf with fur the color of his Bama’s hair! Wulf’s relief didn't last long as the Bad Man grabbed his hair and held a knife up to his throat, his narrow evil eyes locked on Papa. Wulf couldn't help but whimper as the sharp blade started to dig into his exposed neck. 

“Let go of my son!” His Papa shouted. But even though he was relieved to see his Papa, alive and here to save him, Wulf could tell something wasn't quite right. His voice was too… theatrical? Wulf remembered his JiJi teaching him that word, but he wasn't sure he was using it right. And Papa was holding knives that were way too small for him, and Papa didn't use throwing knives like that. And his brows were furrowed together like they did when he got too competitive during game night. But the end of his eyebrow ticked up, just like his JiJi’s did when he was playing a funny joke and waiting for you to get it and laugh with him. Plus, why did his hair look like it was blowing in the breeze? 

“You heard the fucking man. Let. Him. Go.” His Papa growled low from behind him. Wulf didn't risk getting cut by moving his head, but he lifted his eyes up and could see the tip of his Papa’s blade, the one his Dad had made just for him, with the protective runes down the center, pressed into the side of the Bad Man’s neck. His Papa, his real Papa, was right there behind him! Then that must mean-

When Wulf looked back, his Papa, his JiJi disguised as his Papa, gave him a reassuring wink. Wulf knew they were all still in very real danger, the Bad Man was growling out his own response to his Papa, and the dagger was still at his neck, but he felt the tears of relief sting his eyes anyway. But then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and a release of the pressure of the knife on his neck. The Bad Man had gotten so distracted by Papa that his hand had drifted up towards Wulf’s face. Suddenly he realized everyone was in a standstill. His parents weren't making a move because the Bad Man still had a knife on Wulf’s neck, but the bad guys weren't moving because his Papa had his sword pressed into the Bad Man’s neck. But if Wulf made sure the Bad Man didn't have a knife near his throat anymore, then his parents could kick all the bad guys butt's no problem! 

Seeing his moment to strike, Wulf bit down on the Bad Man’s hand. And he bit down hard. He imagined he was biting down into one of his Bama’s crisp apples from the trees on their farm, and he held on. He heard the Bad Man scream and curse in pain, but he refused to let go off the knife. After a moment of surprise and pain, he gripped the knife harder and drove the blade deep into Wulf’s cheek. It hurt so bad! Wulf had never hurt so bad, even that time he scrapped his knees really really hard on the rocks he wasn't supposed to be playing on. It hurt harder than anything Wulf could ever imagine, but he remembered his Papa falling down unconscious, and how he tried to help and wasn't strong enough. He had to be strong and help his Papa! So he bit down even harder than he knew he could, and even heard a crunch just like he would when taking a bite of Bama’s apples. These tasted absolutely nothing like Bama’s apples, the Bad Man tasted NASTY, but the taste of victory felt sweet as Wulf heard the sound of the knife chattering to the ground. 

The Bad Man yelled and kicked Wulf to the ground, into the center of the scary runes drawn in chalk. Wulf landed painfully on his hand and knees, face still throbbing in pain from where the knife cut into his cheek. He looked up just in time to see the bad stranger lift their hand and a blast of fire shooting right towards him, ready to engulf him in its flames. But right at the last second, the flames split apart before they reached Wulf, the light blue glow of a purely magic shield shone where the orangey-red flames beat against it. Wulf looked up to see his Dad, in the full suit of armor Wulf had only seen packed within it’s chest, when he peeked into the parts of his Dad’s forge he knew he shouldn't be in. 

Before Wulf could marvel in the glory of his Dad's cool armor, one of the bad guys shouted as they brought their sword down to attack. Before his Dad could move his shield up or swing the big hammed that looked just like the smaller one he used in the forge, his Mama's rapier pierced the bad guy in his side, throwing him off their path. Around his Dad's leg, he could see his Mama, one arm protectively around one of the other kids, the other getting ready to cast a spell. All of a sudden, he felt a hot moist muzzle on the back of his neck, teeth grabbing hold of the back of his shirt and lifting him. He flipped up and over, sliding down the wolf's neck to settle comfortably on their back, as the wolf gracefully leapt out of the path of one of the bad guys' ax. 

“I've got you my dearest Wulf cub, now hold on tight.” The wolf spoke in their Bama’s voice. Wulf grabbed on tight around their Bama’s neck and let a few tears of relief escape as he dug his face into their fur. Then the wolf growled and snarled, deep and threatening, and Wulf snapped his head up to see his Bama approaching a bad guy trying to grab one of the other kids. 

“Hey back off, meanie!” Wulf screamed, a little surprised when the bad guy actually looked a little scared of him. But the bad guy recovered and tried to grab the crying kid the same way the Bad Man had grabbed Wulf and threatened him earlier. Their Bama wouldn't allow that to happen though, and they leapt forward and snapped their jaws around the arm reaching for the defenseless child. Wulf didn't want to leave the warm safety of their Bama's fur, but the other child had just crumpled and kept crying instead of running away. So they slid off their Bama's back, and helped the other kid up. Wulf made sure neither of them looked in their Bama's direction as they heard the sound of something tearing and the bad guy's scream of pain. 

“Just close your eyes and it'll be okay.” Wulf gently coaxed them onto his Bama's back with them, and made sure they didn't see their Bama's blood-soaked muzzle. 

“A truer wolf there's never been, my little cub.” Bama's voice, slightly deeper in this form, rumbled through him as Wulf settled on their back again.

“Can't argue with that Mel.” JiJi appeared at their side, another child in tow. “A badass, just like your Papa.” Wulf gleamed with pride as their JiJi kissed them on the forehead, and deposited the child in their arms onto Bama's back. Wulf could feel the other child wrap their hands around his waist, as if they were hanging on for dear life. Arms free again, Wulf watched as his JiJi threw a knife straight into the eye of an approaching bad guy then leaped and disappeared into thin air, then reappearing on the other side of the crowd surrounding his Dad and another child. A loud clap of thunder boomed through the cavern as he landed, the force of it knocking over all the bad guys and leaving them at the mercy of his Dad's hammer. 

Wulf looked around as their Bama leapt away from a new attacker, worried he couldn't see his Papa in the fray. But he found him, injured, but not nearly as injured as the Bad Man was. For a moment Wulf thought the Bad Man had gotten the upper hand on his Papa, pinning him to the ground, knife moving towards his face. But at the last second, Papa drove the knife to the side and with a roar, rolled them over. A quick punch to distract and daze, then he darted behind some rocks for cover so he could attack from a different position. Wulf smiled. His Papa would do this sometimes when his parents were sparring ‘for real.’ It worked every single time, and from the Bad Man's confused and angry reaction, Wulf could tell it was going to work this time too. 

An angry growl distracted Wulf, as Bama snapped at a bad guy who'd tried to stab his Mama while she was trying to calm down a really scared kid who was hiding in between some rocks. Seeing Wulf and the other kids on his Bama’s back seemed to earn their trust enough to leap into his Mama’s waiting arms. As they did, a magical door opened and Jiji, and the kid that his Dad had been protecting clutching onto his back, stepped through it to join them.

“Wulf,” His Mama sighed in relief at the sight of him and put a hand on his cheek, as behind her his could see her rapier moving on its own as it sliced a bad guy to shreds. “My love, you're safe now. We'll make sure you all get home safe and sound.” She said to the other kids. “Wulf, are these all the children that were taken with you?” Mama asked him, voice serious and full of business. Wulf looked around. All the other kids he vaguely knew from around the village and other villages in the area. Amongst the chaos, Wulf searched his memory and counted how many whimpering sacks he saw on the back of the strange riders horses, how many scared kids had been tied up and held prisoner with him, who were about to be used in a scary mysterious ritual. Including him, there were five. Looking around him, he counted. Five kids total. 

“Yes Mama.” Wulf nodded. She smiled and hoisted the child in her arms to Jiji. 

“Good, then you all get out of here. Papa, Dad and I will… clean up here.” As if to punctuate her words, Wulf could hear a loud crack as his Dad's hammer hit someone in some part of the body that definitely shouldn't be hit by a giant hammer. 

“But Mama!” Wulf protested, suddenly scared of being split up from his family again. 

“No if, ands, or buts, kiddo. Help keep everyone safe, stay with JiJi and Bama, and we'll see you soon okay?” Mama said softly as she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him on the forehead, all while her rapier disarmed its opponent and stabbed them directly through the heart. 

“Okay Mama.” Wulf sighed, partly in disappointment he couldn't stay and help, partly in relief his parents were here to save everyone. 

“Be safe, my loves.” Bama growled affectionately, as they turned and took off for the exit, JiJi not far behind. Wulf took one last look at the battle as they left, most of the bad guys looked like they were dead or dying, Dad and Mama just picking off the last few stragglers. But Wulf already knew that, his eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for someone’s who’s special talent was not being seen. But right before Bama turned a corner in their dash for escape, Wulf finally caught sight of his Papa, driving his sword right through the Bad Man’s head. 

(After this Melian is too worn out to magically heal Wulf's face all the way, and he's left with a scar. Wulf is pumped that he looks just like his Papa and is trying to show he's strong for everyone, and Brone is on the verge of a panic attack, but I didn't have the time or motivation to write this whole scene(s) out)

[jellyfishsthings]

Hold Your Breath My Darling

WARNINGS: angst, like super angst, lovesick and whipped Spencer, earlier seasons Spencer, Hotch trained reader, Ex spy, fem reader, dying (or coming close to it), panic attacks, typical criminal minds violence... there will be a part two soon, please let my know if I am missing anything else

requests are open

part 2

The BAU team arrived at the small town of Crescent Hills, ready to investigate a series of gruesome murders. The victims all shared similar physical characteristics. The team quickly realized that the killer was targeting women who looked exactly like you, the same hair, the same eyes and somehow personality, which had to be the scarriwst part of them all.

As the team discussed their next move, Spencer couldn't help but stare at her. She was the spitting image of the victims, but she seemed unfazed by the situation. In fact, she suggested that she pose as bait in order to catch the killer. She was the agent her mentor made her, because Hotch would have done the same in a heartbeat. Yet as Hotch looked at the young woman standing at his side, standing tall and holding her head high with pride and bravery, wearing a mask of calmness hiding her whirlwind of emotions with quite the efficiency.

Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the thought of his best friend putting herself in danger. His hands shook with dread and anxiety and his mind raced to a million directions as his heart seemed to weight a few tons more than usual. He was so confused. He had always seen her as a friend, but in that moment, he couldn't deny the intense feelings he had for her. Yes he had always cared for her, and wouldn't wish any harm in her way, but at this moment he desperately wished to have been the genius he claimed to be, to find a way out of this, to solve this without any one getting hurt, to keep her safe and alive and well next to him, hoping she felt even a sliver of the intesity of his emotions. He knew he couldn't let her go through with this plan. He had to act quickly, not caring if he embarrassed himself in the process.

"You can't do this, it's too dangerous," Spencer pleaded with her, his eyes shining with unshead tears as he saw her walking in her hotel room, trying to make herself more appealing for the UnSub.

"I can handle myself, Spencer," she replied confidently."Do not worry. I have been trained from the best." She whispered as she lightly hugged him and kissed his cheeks and the storm raging inside of him seemed to calm down for a few short seconds.

But Spencer couldn't shake off the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. He had been so focused on his work and solving the case that he hadn't even realized his true feelings for her until now. As the team set up a plan, Spencer couldn't help but keep a close eye on her. He couldn't let her out of his sight. But as she put herself in harm's way, Spencer's heart was in his throat

The warehouse was quiet, the ominous shadows twisting around the corners like specters waiting to strike and fear started clawing its way to her heart. Derek Morgan’s voice echoed in her mind; “You’re one of us, kiddo. Trust your instincts.” But in this moment, trust felt like an anchor dragging her deeper into despair.

She was second guessing herself now as well as her abilities. Maybe she had made a mistake. She had volunteered without hesitation, knowing the stakes were high. A string of brutal murders had terrorized several towns, and the Behavioral Analysis Unit needed to understand what made this killer tick. But she had never expected that the very thing she sought to uncover would entrap her instead.

As she stepped deeper into the warehouse, darkness enveloped her like a suffocating blanket. The cold was biting, but the fear coursed through her veins like ice. She had set off the sound of a chilling recording, a mocking lure that had been crafted specifically for the UnSub. The air was alive with tension, every creak of the old metal structure amplifying her dread.

“Just breathe,” she murmured to herself, but her heart raced faster with every passing second. Somehow, despite the adrenaline's flow, she felt an unsettling calm, as if her body was preparing for something inevitable.

She thought of the team back at the BAU. Hotch would be analyzing their data, Emily and Derek keeping their wits about them, and as she closed her eyes, she could almost hear Spencer Reid’s gentle voice. He was always a soothing presence, with his deep well of knowledge and quirky sense of humor.

“Remember when I tried to teach you how to play chess?” he whispered in her mind, a memory flooding back. They had been at a coffee shop breaking down a case when she had confided that she hadn’t learned the game as a child. With a persistent twinkle in his eye, he taught her the basics, patiently explaining the rules as she fumbled through the moves. They laughed when she mistakenly thought pawns could move diagonally anytime.

In this dark warehouse, she recalled how he had once said, “You have to think several moves ahead. In chess, just as in life.” She held onto that wisdom now, fighting to stifle her panic.

The quiet was shattered by footsteps echoing through the maze of crates and rusted metal. She steeled herself, adrenaline rushing through her as the UnSub emerged from the shadows. He was a tall figure, cloaked in darkness, his face obscured by a mask that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

She fought the surge of terror that threatened to overwhelm her. How? How had he been expecting her? She was a trained spy for the love of God, before joining the BAU, had she rusted her abilities this quickly? It had only been five years. Five wonderful, free years.

She couldn’t falter. In her mind, she anchored herself to another memory: a sunny afternoon with Reid. They had shared ice cream on a picnic blanket, debating the best flavors like children. He had quipped that pistachio was underappreciated, while she insisted on the classic chocolate chip cookie dough.

“You’re practically a gourmet, aren’t you?” she teased, and his laugh had brightened that day, sunlight dancing in his eyes.

But now, there were no sunny picnics; shadows danced along the walls as the UnSub advanced towards her. She could see glimmers of rage flickering in his eyes, an intensity that struck fear into her heart.

“Let’s see just how strong you are,” he hissed, gripping her arms in a vice-like hold. She gasped as pain shot through her, but even as she winced, she summoned the memory of Reid, who had taught her the importance of mindfulness in the face of fear.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, fueling her resolve with every ounce of anger she could muster.

But he laughed, a cruel sound that sent tremors of dread through her. The sharpness of reality cut through her feelings of safety, and she swallowed hard, desperately piecing together scattered memories, trying to fund the best course of action but it was already to late. She felt sluggish and slow, something was wrong.

She tried to find the good memories, to find courage and strength, such as Reid’s infinite patience, his love for obscure trivia, the whimsical way he could make her smile even in the darkest of moments.

“Your game is over,” the UnSub snarled, his breath hot against her skin.

As he began to carry out his twisted intentions, she closed her eyes tightly, conjuring one last memory, one that radiated warmth in the encroaching darkness. The night Reid had confessed his fears of inadequacy, only to find solace in their bond, his fingers grazing hers in comforting reassurance, his eyes reflecting the kind of understanding that only comes from empathy.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, even as fear clawed at her soul. “No matter what happens, I’m not afraid. I will not give you the satisfaction of the perfect murder, trust me it will be a fight to bring me down.”

"Oh, but you have already lost. I think you must be feeling it be now."

Her heart pounded with the realization that she might not escape. But in those harrowing moments, as she fought against the loop of pain and despair, she anchored herself in the love and camaraderie of her team—every shared laugh, every overcoming of hardship. No matter what happened, they would carry her spirit forward.

In those last flickers of consciousness, she thought of Spencer, his brilliance, his laugh, and the unyielding strength of their bond. She hoped he would forgive her for failing to bring him the answers they so desperately needed, all while holding onto the belief that even the darkest of nights must give way to dawn.

With that thought, she embraced the memories that would never fade, hoping they would echo in the hearts of those she loved, a reminder that even in their darkest hours, they could find light.

Then the darkness came.

The cold grip of fear tightened around Spencer Reid's heart as he stood in the dimly lit acting conference room of the BAU, a small desk office of the local police station. The air was thick with tension and the weight of impending decisions that could alter their fates. He paced the floor anxiously, running a hand through his tousled hair while his mind raced with worst-case scenarios.

“Guys, we can’t go through with this,” he implored, turning to face his team, his voice a tremor of desperation. “The unsub is more unpredictable than we anticipated, and we can’t risk her life. What if—”

“It’s not just about her,” Derek Morgan countered, crossing his arms. “This mission aims to take down a dangerous criminal. We need to act fast before he slips through our fingers again.”

“But what if he targets her, Morgan?” Spencer’s voice escalated, echoing in the room. “I've analyzed his patterns. If she’s involved, she’s at extreme risk. We can’t afford to lose her!”

Emily Prentiss, caught between the mounting urgency and Reid’s grave expression, glanced at the other agents. “We have to trust our instincts, Spencer, but you know we all understand the risk involved. We can deploy a secondary team to protect her—”

“No!” Reid snapped, panic threading his tone. “You don’t understand. I can’t shake this feeling. What if this is a trap? She shouldn’t be there. We need to stop this. We need to call it off.”

The room fell silent as his pleas hung in the air, but time was running out, and the team had a job to do. With reluctant determination, they gathered their gear and left the conference room, unknowingly walking into the lion’s den.

Spencer’s heart raced as he followed them, a whirlwind of dread washing over him. They arrived at the location of the suspected meeting and quickly fanned out, but dread settled deeper in his chest as time ticked away.

Minutes felt like hours, and Reid’s worries morphed into a nightmare. Suddenly, over the comms, a shout broke through the chaos, and panic pierced the stillness. “She’s down! She’s down!”

Spencer’s instinct kicked in, but it felt like running through molasses as he pushed past his teammates. His breath quickened dramatically. He reached the scene, and there she was—Her body lay still against the cold asphalt, pale and lifeless.

Everything around him blurred as the sirens wailed in the distance, blending into an agonizing scream that reverberated in his mind. He dropped to his knees beside her, an overwhelming despair crashing down like a tidal wave. “No, no, no…” he chanted, disbelief coursing through him as the realization sank in.

He placed his hands on her chest, feeling the emptiness where her spirit should have been. “Stay with me. Please,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks as he started CPR. Each pump felt futile, desperation fueling his actions—A metronome to the rhythm of her fading heartbeat.

“Come on, please! Breathe, breathe!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he pressed harder, not willing to accept the undeniable truth standing stark against reality—a truth that seemed to throng his senses.

Suddenly, strong hands pulled him backward. “Spencer, let the medics handle this,” a voice shouted through the fog of his anguish. It was Morgan, trying to wrestle him back to reality.

“No! I can’t! I won’t let her go!” Reid screamed, thrashing against the hold, fighting against the gravity of grief. But the world around him was collapsing, everything turning hazy, the wail of the sirens growing louder, drowning him in despair.

“Spencer!” Morgan’s voice cut through the fog, but it felt distant, as if coming from underwater. He was pulled away from the scene, from her cold body that lay so still. The agents moved in, the medics began their work, but Reid felt as if a piece of himself was being torn apart, the agonizing reality sinking its teeth deeper into his soul.

He fell to his knees, the weight of his failure crashing into him like a heavy stone, unyielding and unforgiving. Tears streamed down his face as he watched helplessly, the ache in his chest mimicking a gaping wound.

Desperation clawed at him as he realized that no amount of pleading or data could bring her back. And in that moment, the chaos of the world faded away, and all he knew was a profound loss that reverberated through every fiber of his being.

And then the impossible happened. She was still bleeding, covered in deep cuts by a knife that would scar her for life. Yet her chest lifted lightly before falling down.

Once.

Twice.

He was sure he was dreaming of it. His mind playing a trick on him, not being ready to register his life without her existence.

But no.

It was true. She was breathing.

[ronearoundblindly]

Forgive me if I sent this ask before... I don't remember if I did 😅 but if not just know that I thought about sending it in since you started this series 🙈

For who would:

If you just hand them your baby niece or nephew or a baby you're watching for a friend (just any baby lol) who would hand it right back to you, silently hold it with a sheer look of panic till you come back and take it or be a natural and not give it back to you at all?

I love this bit of fluff and silliness for a Sunday; excellent question!

James Mace

He asks a lot of questions about what needs done or should be done. Is it changing time? How much head support should he provide? Is this a DND (do not disturb, D&D is for his own kiddos) baby ready for a nap? Is this play time? Should he be engaging the baby or keeping up conversation with the group?

Now, as to whether or not having the baby in his arms gives him any ideas: not any more than he's already had. You two have plans, you've talked about this and are on the same page, so his interactions right then have to do with that baby at that moment. He doesn't necessarily have stronger feelings when handling other people's children.

Curtis Everett

Curtis does not trust himself around babies especially. He goes extremely stiff and extremely quiet. He stares intensely. He will not do anything unless you tell him to do something with the baby. Even then he is not truly comfortable.

Babies bring up a lot of memories and emotions for him, and theoretically he knows he isn't in the same place/headspace as when he was younger, he knows babies aren't in as much danger as the old days, but he still gets so overwhelmed by it.

Yes, Curtis is even like this with his own children. He counts the days until his child is old enough to not be considered a 'baby' anymore. In fact, Curtis enjoys the memory of their infancy, pictures and videos, etc, more than he can enjoy being with them as infants.

Jimmy Dobyne

Honestly, a total natural. Small towns and rural areas mean closer-knit families, neighbors, and friends. They all help each other out. A bunch of kids shuffle around to spend afternoons here or Saturdays there. Babies get passed around to let parents get errands done or go on dates. It's not a big deal; it's just a way of life.

At this point, Jimmy has cleaned up after and fed a dozen different species of 'babies.' He's fine with it. He doesn't play much though, not with babies. Jimmy prefers when they're old enough to run around for catch or sports, etc. That's more his wheelhouse.

Johnny Storm

Fucking terrified to handle babies but LOVES entertaining them. Will do absolutely anything to make that baby laugh. To a fault sometimes because Johnny will get so animated he knocks shit over in the house or wherever you two are.

You give him credit for trying though.

Jake Jensen

Sits that baby up on his lap and continues to watch whatever screen he's focused on.

Jake isn't necessarily bad with babies, but he prefers to continue to enjoy the more adult entertainment/interactions around him. Like Jimmy, he will be more than hands-on excited once that baby can be active with their own interests (sports or otherwise) because he will participate and support 100%. Babies are just a bit too floppy and unreadable for him.

Lloyd Hansen

Thrilled to let those tiny baby fingers try to hold the grip of his switchblade. Adores how fucking angry the parents (or you) get when he plays with knives around them or has them play with the knives. Lloyd secretly finds baby facial reactions to be the funniest things on the planet--but, no, he doesn't actually like babies.

Ari Levinson

Ari is a playful papa through and through. Has more than once strapped that carrier to his chest and wondered around with someone's kiddo for whole parties. Endlessly entertained and entertaining when it comes to babies.

However, Ari really, really doesn't like when babies get grabby and pull at his hair. That shit hurts, and he hates it. Also he's oddly squeamish about spit-up and/or vomit. Technically, he is not a fan of diaper duty, like very, very, very not a fan.

Ransom Drysdale

The absolute fuck are you handing him a baby for??? Bitch, are you insane?! Be real. Seriously. Just don't.

There isn't even much improvement in this behavior when it's Ran's own child. Not a fan of the 'baby' stage, this one.

Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes

Lumping these two together because they do exactly the same things. Steve and Bucky physically treat female and male babies differently; they are sweet and cooing with girls, and then they talk about or mimic sports things with boys. They don't mean to be presumptive in this behavior, just do it be default.

Neither is afraid to roll their sleeves up and help with feeding or changing. They'll give equal attention to the baby and the group around you. They will both happily sit/stand/walk around with a napping baby in their arms--although they aren't thrilled to be unable to help with other stuff while they have no available hands.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...? Asks List; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81

@bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries 

@rogersbarber @blogbog710

[s-awturn]

Karma Is A Bitch | MV1

summary: S/N and Max invented hate at first sight, they hate each other from the first moment they met and never tried to make things better. The hatred between the two is real and almost palpable to the point of becoming karma... In the dirtiest sense of the word.

cw: Conflict, verbal fighting, insults and name calling, suggestive, mild smut (very little), mention of accidents, and what else? Somewhat based on the discussion between Max and Esteban (no explanation needed). No real events will be taken into consideration here, so everything was taken from my head (duh)

a/n: I wrote this based on Max's headcanon in "Pilots and their romantic tropes", because it stuck in my head and I needed to develop it. It's my first time with Max (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°) heheheh so he's gonna be a little OC, don't take it too seriously pls. I just saw that I reached 101 followers, I'm going to shout it out (I'll think of something to celebrate, suggestions?)

Melbourne, 2023

"You're doing great, kiddo," Hugh said into the headphones. "We're down to the last ten laps, keep doing that and we could have a double podium today."

"Cool," she said through gritted teeth, focused on keeping Lando where he was: on her tail. "How's the car? Can we fight Verstappen for first place?"

Y/N heard Hugh's heavy sigh, and if she knew Hugh, she knew the engineer was rubbing his beard, as he always did when he was nervous.

The season was still in its early stages, it was only the third race of the year and the rivalry between Max and Y/N had already reached a dangerous peak, they competed more with each other than with other drivers. Luckily for the team, both Max and Y/N managed to keep the competition alive both among themselves and with the other teams — even if the two always took their internal rivalry more seriously.

"The wear on the tires has not yet reached a precarious level, so you can compete, but you need to be careful, there may be rubber debris on the track," he advised, hearing her click her tongue in agreement, Hugh knew he was stirring the hunger of a beast, and for all intents and purposes, Max had the prey she wanted. "God help us," he muttered, closing the communication channel.

Y/N smiled at the free pass Hugh had given her, she shifted gears, hearing the engine roar loudly and she smiled, there was a DRS zone. She was a few seconds behind Max, three maybe four seconds and with the possibility of overtaking in front of her, Y/N did what her instincts told her: she opened the rear wing and put her foot down on the accelerator, breaking the distance between her and Max and consequently stealing first place from the Dutch driver. She not only passed Max, but managed to establish the four-second gap between them again, with herself in the lead. Her smile under her helmet was wide enough for her to feel pain in the cheeks.

The rest of the race was fast and intense, she and Max fought aggressively for first place, Y/N didn't let Max take advantage of any opening, she broke all chances of Max regaining first place. Not even with DRS active was Verstappen able to retake the lead.

As the two entered the last lap, Christian, Hugh and the entire Red Bull team began to think they would have an accident, because the two were, literally, playing cat and mouse.

"Keep it up, girl" Hugh suddenly appeared on the comms, making Y/N laugh "you're going to win your first F1 race, keep it up"

She laughed with victory, feeling as light as a balloon as her car passed the checkered flag in first place. Everyone in the garage heard her happy screams, when Y/N parked the car in the spot reserved for the winner, she could barely see because of her tears. The girl didn't even have time to take off her helmet before she was engulfed in the team's hug.

"You did it, girl!" Hugh lifted her into the air, celebrating the victory. It all went through her mind like a torpedo, but she remembers well when her country's anthem played, Y/N cried. She couldn't even explain how light she felt without the weight on her shoulders.Being the only woman among drivers in the top category of motorsport was heavier than she thought and winning was not a dream, it was an obligation.

She greeted the champagne shower as if it were a blessing, laughing as she doused the other riders. If it were possible, she would be exploding like fireworks.

Victory tasted sweet, and she got addicted.

After Melbourne, what was already tense got even worse. Y/N discovered what victory tasted like and Max wasn't about to let her taste it again. But what he didn't know was that his teammate was just as stubborn as he was and was willing to commit atrocities if it guaranteed her a podium finish — just like Max himself.

The races became increasingly fierce, the other teams instructed their drivers to stay away from the fight between Max and Y/N. The possibility of the two RBR drivers putting a third person in an accident was immense, and no one wanted to risk it.

"You" Christian pointed at S/N, watching the girl play with the zipper of her jumpsuit, as if she wasn't being reprimanded "don't tease, I know how much of a brat you can be when you want and you" he turned to Max "calm your nerves, you'll end up causing an accident, and no one here needs any more punishment"

The team leader scratched the back of his neck, all his efforts to convert the hatred between the two into anything but... Harmful, but nothing worked. Frustrated because neither of them seemed willing to give in, so if neither of them would make the first move, Christian would.

"You two are going to stay here until you sort it out, I don't care how, if you want to be treated like children, I will treat you like children" he scolded, putting his hands on his hips "You have plenty of time to sort things out and when you leave here, I expect you to respect each other, at the very least!"

Christian left the room, locking them in there, Y/N snorted, aware that Horner wasn't joking and the sound of the doorknob locking made that obvious. From her corner of the couch, she glanced sideways at Max, making a disgusted face, which he scoffed at.

"If we're here it's your fault" he said, pointing his finger in her direction, S/N frowned in confusion and stood up.

"My fault?! You're the idiot who thinks everyone has to give you back the position! Do you know how to lose a race without crying in the team's lap?!" She yelled back, stopping just a few steps away from him. Both of them radiated pure rage.

"I wouldn't need to ask for the positions back if you weren't a treacherous snake!"

"And you're a crybaby!" She said angrily and soon a wicked smile appeared on her face "You hate knowing that there's someone really competing with you, threatening your title"

Max scoffed, stepping away from her as he adjusted his hat. "As if you were enough competition to threaten me with, cutie."

“You wouldn’t be so mad if I wasn’t,” she retorted, balancing on his ankles, being petulant enough to prick Max’s short temper. “It’s okay to admit you’re afraid of me, Verstappen.”

“As if I would fear someone who still smells of milk”

Y/N laughed, leaning closer to him. “Should I be worried about your nose being so close to my neck?” He clicked his tongue again, increasing the level of mockery, making Max even more irritated.

“I would never get close to you, under any circumstances,” he replied, with nothing less than raw disgust in his voice and Y/N would never be able to explain why that was such a hard blow to her ego.

“As if you had any chance,” she said, composing herself with dignity.

“Anyway, fuck you, stay out of my way, girl,” he warned, pointing his index finger at her, “or I’ll throw you in the gravel.”

“Do that and I’ll be your worst nightmare, kid.”

The two went to opposite corners of the room, leaving the entire place filled with animosity. They remained in the office for almost two hours until the public relations manager took them out, scolding them because they were late for their interviews.

When Christian saw them leave the office, he couldn't tell if his attempts had yielded any results, but from the way they existed near each other, he was afraid. Whatever would come after this conversation, he had the entire team ready, whether it was for a fight or, maybe, the apocalypse.

Spielberg, 2023.

The Austrian GP was an important circuit for RBR and S/N was excited, she really wanted to win at the team's home ground, it would be an important victory and she wanted first place as much as she wanted oxygen, perhaps victory was more important.

Since Christian's intervention, instead of her and Max strengthening their rivalry, it seemed to increase, which was great for the fans, the races became more exciting and fun to watch, but for the team, the atmosphere was unbearable. The fear of an accident between the two happening was real and increasingly possible; and the race at Red Bull Ring gave an extra weight to the competitiveness of the RBR drivers,

"Keep your head cool, girl." Hugh ruffled her hair as Y/N sat in the cockpit, reading the information on the monitor. "Do your race, stay calm and everything will be fine, you have a good score in the drivers' championship, don't let your problems with Max get in the way of the race, It's important for the team"

"Relax Hugh, we'll win the race and increase the points gap with the second team"

"You're in second, so try to preserve your tires until the pitstop, our strategy will come into play after the first stop, understand?"

"Yep Hugh, I understand."

"In other words, no pointless fights with Max." He said, giving her a stern look, Y/N giggled and held up her crossed fingers. "Y/N..."

"I'll try, I promise"

The minutes until the start of the race were spent fine-tuning the details of the strategy, meditating and listening to encouragement from the family. And as always, the moments until she positioned herself on the grid passed as if she were on autopilot, without realizing where she was or what she was doing until her engines roared. It wasn't until the lights came on that Y/N blinked back to the real world and she smiled, gripping the sides of the steering wheel. She glanced quickly in the rearview mirror, seeing her purple helmet gleam in the faint light of the weak sun. The forecast was for rain for the second half of the circuit, which made her anxious, she loved racing in the rain just like one of her greatest examples in motorsport, Ayrton Senna.

When the lights went out, she let her instincts take over and her focus was on one thing, the highest place on the podium.

In the second half of the race, the rain fell like a torrent, nothing that S/N wasn't used to and with this new obstacle, she held on, trying to have a safe race, even though he was still competing for victory with his teammate. She stepped on the brakes several times, trying to avoid any collision and as they were entering the forty-fifth lap, exactly at the Schlossgold Curve, in a fierce dispute with Max, where she tried to overtake him when a collision with the two front wings made S/N spin on the track until she was pushed against the barrier. The shock was strong enough to make her hit her head against the steering wheel; S/N was disoriented for a few seconds and shook her head, but the act made her grunt in pain and hearing Hugh's desperate calls in the dot in her ear only made her more nervous. She didn't even know when she was pulled out of the cockpit or when she was taken to the circuit hospital, but she knew exactly the moment the rage exploded in her chest.

Max threw her off the track, in a dirty move, Max took her out of the race.

"I'm going to kill him," she said as the nurse bandaged her forehead. The poor nurse gave S/N's companion a frightened look, who signaled for her to ignore it. "He threw me off the track, mom, I hit the barrier!"

"Honey, don't worry about it, you're fine, luckily the accident wasn't more serious" she tried to calm her daughter down and asked the nurse to leave, which she did in a hurry.

The driver's time in the hospital was spent hurling abuse and homicidal thoughts at Max Verstappen. So it was no surprise when she arrived at the Red Bull garage screaming and swearing. She shook off Hugh's grip on her, marched straight to Max, and pressed her finger against his chest.

"You scream that I'm a treacherous snake, but you're the most dishonest son of a bitch that ever walked this fucking earth!" She yelled, seeing Max's eyes widen until he understood what was happening.

"What? Did you really think I was going to give you my position? Wake up girl."

"Are you an idiot? That was a clean maneuver, I didn't attack you to get thrown off the fucking track"

"You wouldn't have gone off the track if you were a good driver, or an honest one" Jos Verstappen interjected into the conversation, pulling Max away from it.

"Maybe it's time for you to rethink your career, this profession isn't for everyone, including cute and delicate little things like you" Max said, and that made something burn deep inside her before it completely faded away.

She licked her lips and pulled away, playing with the zipper of her jumpsuit, a habit she did whenever she was nervous, she took a deep breath and said "You know what? Fuck it, from today you died to me"

And with that, Y/N retreated to her room, feeling her whole body tremble, since she was four years old, she never questioned herself, She always knew that she would race in F1. This was always a certainty in her life and she had the unconditional support of her parents; thinking about anything else for her life never crossed her mind, Y/N knew she would be the first girl in the highest category of motorsport.

However, being discredited in that way, especially after an accident, shook her convictions.

And for the first time in many years, she cried in fear that she would not be able to do it anymore.

São Paulo, 2023

After Spielberg, things in the RBR pit changed drastically, Y/N didn't just avoid Max, she literally pretended he didn't exist, of course the Dutchman didn't take it seriously in the first few weeks, he thought Y/N was just making a fuss to get attention, but he realized things were serious when Hugh started relaying her decisions to him. Of course, the PR team did best to keep things away from the general public, It was necessary for the pilots to maintain good relations, even if just a little, for the good of the team.

She did what she promised and it was as if Max didn't even exist.

And shit, that really bothered Max, because Y/N looked past him, she never spoke to him again, she never stayed in the same place as him again, even the races had changed, Y/N hadn't lost the will to win, but something had really lost its essence.

It was Saturday, almost eleven o'clock at night when Max's discomfort about Y/N became unbearable.

He didn't know why, but it was boring, really bad not having someone to fight with, to make things more exciting. There was a piece missing and he knew where it was.

Y/N was the karma in his life, to torment him, to make his life hell, but fuck it, Y/N was still his karma and he would deal with her.

He put on his slippers and got the room key, he didn't need to ask, he knew which room she was staying in, Max crossed the hotel like a caged lion that had found freedom and it was with all that frantic energy that he almost broke down the door to her room.

Max hoped that this would get some reaction from his teammate, but Y/N opened the door and remained silent, looking at him standing in the hallway.

"You can't fucking ignore me forever!" He yelled, expecting her to retaliate, but Y/N just prepared to close the door, but Max stopped her. "Talk to me, damn it."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" She said, too calm, too soft, and Max didn't like it.

"Fight, scream, do anything, but don't ignore me"

She reached out, checking her cuticles, a clear sign of disinterest that increased Max's disgust, she couldn't act like that.

"I can't ignore what's dead to me," she said dryly, "was that all?"

Max swallowed the lump in his throat, her indifference made him uncomfortable in his own skin, it was impossible to deal with it calmly. He took a deep breath, letting the act clear his mind, he let all his arrogance and pride fall away and allowed himself to be vulnerable; Max admitted to himself that he missed her, Y/N was a constant in his life, chaotic, disturbing and restless, but a constant, he knew she would be there to stick his ass in the races, to take everything he had and without it, things would get monotonous.

But still, he wanted a reaction, he wanted the white-hot, overwhelming anger that was always in her.

"Yes! I want you to stop ignoring me, acting like I'm nothing in front of you."

"I don't care what you want, Verstappen," she said, crossing her arms. "I couldn't care less about your desires."

"You think that makes you better than me? You're always saying how arrogant I am and what do you think that swagger is? Niceness?"

Y/N gave an exhausted sigh and pulled Max into her room, because in a little while longer, he would be causing a ruckus in the hallway.

"Why is this important to you, Verstappen? Unfortunately for you and your father I didn't change careers, but to your delight, as your father once said...?" she paused, resting her index finger on her lips as she pretended to think, "Oh yes, a hindrance to your brilliant career."

"And you gave in? Did you accept it so easily?!" He exclaimed and she pressed her temples, already exhausted from that conversation, feeling her patience drain away very quickly.

"Do you have some personality problem? You have to! Why the hell are you so bothered by this, damn it?!" She finally screamed, stressed out by the whole thing.

"I don't like it! I hate that you're distant, damn it!" He took over, making her posture break, Y/N looked at him in surprise, what was Max talking about?"

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"I hate you, I hate the fact that you are hard-working and intelligent, that you work on your strategies, the way you drive, the way you laugh" he spoke quickly, not giving her a chance to respond "I hate how you fill every space with your presence, I hate how nice you are to Charles, how you idolize Hamilton, I hate you for flirting with Lando because..."

Y/N's eyes were wide as she watched Max's monologue in his suite.

In return, Max found his breath — and the courage to finish what he had started, because hell, Y/N was more challenging than any race he had faced.

"Because I get jealous, I hate that they have your attention, I hate that they have any part of you while I have nothing"

Y/N rested her hands on her hips, absorbing Max's confession, God knows she never expected to hear that, not even in that circumstance.

"Fuck, that's something," she said, wanting to break the silence, seeing Max twist his fingers in pure nervousness. But nothing more was said for long minutes until she looked him in the eyes, peering into whatever he was trying to keep hidden. "Have you ever thought about talking about this in therapy?"

Max gasped, this was fucking not what he was expecting.

"Well, damn, that caught me off guard, you know?" She said, sitting on the bed. "That doesn't justify your shitty behavior towards me this whole year."

"I know, but you were a bitch to me too."

"And I ignored you"

"And I hated that shit, keep being a bitch to me, it's better than being treated like nothing"

"You deserved every second, you still do"

Max sat next to her, both of them staring at the huge black and white photograph of the capital of São Paulo.

"I'm sorry, you're a great driver, I never meant to make you doubt your potential and the sport would be a lot more boring without you in my rear view mirror" he said sincerely "You make a difference in racing and I wouldn't forgive myself if I ruined that... None of what I said was true, it was a bit of spite"

"You need to work on being forgiven... And if your father talks to me like that again, I'll throw my helmet at him."

"Okay, fair enough."

"And you need to learn to declare yourself, that was completely unromantic"

"Was that all you paid attention to?"

"And you're judging me for that?"

"Obviously, because I opened my heart here, "go fuck yourself, damn it"

"Why don't you come do it, you coward"

Before the two could process what was happening, Max and S/N were kissing, rolling around on the mattress. Grunts and curses were uttered in a confused manner and before long, the clothes were scattered around the suite and before long, the girl was riding the Dutchman, moaning insults as he bit her breasts and neck, leaving fingerprints on her hips, her thighs and ass. He swore in Dutch — and it made Y/N clench around him.

Maybe it was the euphoria, or the repressed feelings that led them both to orgasm in a violent way.

"Fuck," they said together.

The sky above her was so blue and bright it hurt to look at and behind her, Max was on her tail, nudging for any chance to retake the lead of the pack, but Y/N increased the gap, from four seconds to six. She knew he was cursing and that it would be harder to close the gap between them.

The fans screamed, fired up by the competition for first place, suddenly that fight, the anger had arisen again, making things interesting again.

"One more quarter of a lap and you'll win the race, firecracker." Hugh said into the headset, making Y/N laugh in excitement. "Things are in place again, that is great"

"I know you missed me, I missed you too," she admitted, changing gears at once, making the engine roar. "I love my job."

The podium featured Red Bull Racing twice and the last time anyone saw such a bright smile on S/N's face was in Melbourne, months before.

"You should make it easier sometimes" he said as they both waited for her anthem to start, Y/N giggled.

"As if you liked that," he retorted ironically and Max shrugged, yeah, he didn't.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.

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[noturlondonboy]

Werewolf. Were… Wednesday?

Part 1

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair

Werewolf Wednesday AU

A/N: I really love this concept so I’m excited to see if others like it too. Enjoy!

Enid had a bad feeling about today as soon as she woke up. For starters, it was her actual alarm that had her rousing instead of Wednesday's intense gaze inches from her face, and that in itself had her mood a bit jilted.

Breakfast proved another point. Yoko was sick and therefore absent to indulge in Enid's latest gossip, and Bianca wasn't exactly very chatty. This left the werewolf with Ajax and a very sleepy Xavier. The two boys were leaning into each other and giggling softly every time the artist would start to doze off against his boyfriend's shoulder, only for one of Ajax's snakes to poke at him through the beanie.

Damnit. Enid missed Wednesday. She couldn't handle being single in front of all this cute gay shit by herself. Where had her roommate gone? It was unusual for her to miss breakfast. It was the only meal they tended to share and the girl hated when her schedule got messed up, even a little.

It started raining as soon as she stepped foot outside.

"Great." Enid walked quickly across the quad in a mess of grumbling and wet blonde hair, and she shook herself out best she could before making her way to her first class of the day- potions.

Another thing about today being an absolute thumbs down. Enid sucked at this class.

But she perked up immediately once she walked through the door and spotted Wednesday in her usual seat, her soft squeal earning a confused smile from Divina in the back row. Wednesday heard her as well and turned to watch as Enid skipped her way to their desk and slid into her spot, grinning at her dark friend.

"Hi, Wednesday," Enid whispers excitedly, trying to be mindful of the fact that class was technically starting. Wednesday is just looking at her with her normally blank expression, but then the neutrality seems to lessen and she almost looks amused.

"You're soaking wet, Enid. You're going to have our room stinking of wet dog."

Enid beams at her. "Yeah probably."

That gets an entire eyebrow raise. "Have you fallen ill? You're happier than what I'm accustomed to and it's making me want to stab Xavier."

"Hey!" Xavier goes ignored from behind them.

Enid shakes her head but does make an effort to ring out her hair a bit more so she doesn't accidentally smack Wednesday in the face with a damp pink strand. "Nope, just happy to see my roomie after missing her all morning." Today was starting to feel a little less terrible already.

Something strange crosses over Wednesday's face but she's interrupted before she can respond. "Good morning kiddos!" Mr. Faroshti claps his hands to get everyone's attention, his fangs glinting as he grins widely.

That was a dangerous look when it came to him.

"We're doing something a little special today, and it's gonna be partner work- so if you're not happy with your table mate... deal with it." He shrugs and walks to his desk as a couple of students groan. Xavier and Ajax are making kicked-puppy eyes at each other from across the room. Enid just nudges Wednesday with her shoulder and wiggles around a bit.

Even if she was more likely to blow something up than not, Wednesday was always patient and willing when helping her as long as she was actually trying to stay focused. Everything would be fine.

Mr. Faroshti passed around a medium sized box to each desk and instructed them all to open it and get started on what he was only now calling a "mystery serum." Wednesday seemed rather bored of the activity, right up until she was halfway through reading the instructions and gave an actual smile.

"Good, it involves blood. That puts me at ease."

Enid grimaced, looking warily down at the open box and what could see of vials and containers full of whatever they were going to use. "Of course it does."

Wednesday almost starts to hum as she busies herself with carefully removing all of the ingredients, handing the instructions over for Enid to read. "You'll be fine, puppy. I'll handle the blood."

Enid doesn't know how to react to the name or the girl's thoughtfulness, so she just does as she's told and ignores the glow on her cheeks.

Halfway through the potion, Wednesday excused herself to the restroom and levels a stare that has Enid sitting ram-rod straight. "Get the next two steps done while I'm gone, they're relatively simple. A pinch of whatever animal essence is in that sealed bag, and a few drops of liquified bone marrow. Stir how it shows you." And then she's gone, her braids swishing lightly behind her.

Enid blinks, bringing herself back to the task at hand. The remaining ingredients are spread out over the table around their mini mixing cauldron, and she located the animal bag and bone marrow before starting to panic. Each box held a different animal essence for each potion, and it was just by chance that the one given to her and Wednesday contained a tuft of wolf fur. The problem was that it looked quite a bit more than a pinch.

But it wouldn't have anything in the box that didn't need to go in the potion, right? Enid looks at it quizzically for a moment before shrugging and dropping the entire bundle into the concoction. The fur sizzles for a moment, then dissolves into the steaming liquid, leaving it a deep brownish red.

The bone marrow goes in without a hitch (ignoring the fact that a fourth of it splashed out onto Enid's hands-it burned like hell for a moment) and then the werewolf carefully stirs the potion until it smooths out. Wednesday appears moments later, surveying the scene.

"You didn't catch your hair on fire. Good."

Enid scowls as her roommate sits back down. "That was one time!"

Wednesday glances at her, lips twitching. "Did you finish the next two steps?"

"I- yeah."

There's a nod of acknowledgment, and Wednesday takes over, measuring and pouring the rest of the ingredients in. Once the shimmering gold liquid is contained in a vial, Mr. Faroshti comes around from where he was helping a struggling Ajax to take a look at it.

"Excellent work, girls! That was done in record time," he beams, holding the potion up to the lantern lighting to peer at it. He hesitates, then frowns, turning the vial this way and that to get a better look. "That's strange..." He carefully holds it close to his nose and wafts the scent closer to him for a second. Mr. Faroshti visibly holds back a gag. "Hoooh boy, that's a strong Werewolf smell. And I think the gold shading might be a little off."

Wednesday's eyebrows shoot up on her head, and she turns to a nervous Enid. "Enid, how much of the animal essence did you put in?"

Enid feels the need to shrink in on herself, tugging anxiously at her damp hair. "Um, well, there wasn't very much of it so..."

"Enid."

"Ok, I added all of it!"

Mr. Faroshti whistles and shakes his head. "Yeah, that's why it looks weird. Go ahead and pour it back in and water it down to balance it out, and I'll take another look at it." He hands the vial back to Enid, who takes it sheepishly with her rain-wet fingers.

And promptly drops it as the glass slips out of her hands.

Said vial crashes onto the desk and shatters into a mess of glimmering gold liquid...

Right onto Wednesday.

Everyone in the room freezes, including Wednesday. She had her blazer off and her sleeves rolled to her elbows today, which meant the potion had coated her arms and splashed to splatter over her chest and neck, dripping onto her skirt. Her eyes were wide and she had her hands up off the desk, as if she didn't quite know what to do with herself. Enid was staring at her roommate with a horrified expression.

She's going to kill me.

But Wednesday turned to Mr. Faroshti, grinding her teeth. "Sir, what kind of potion were we making?"

He swallowed tightly, red eyes ping-ponging over the mess in the hopes of properly assessing the situation. "It was a temporary transfiguration solution. But it was too potent and it got onto your skin..." He shook his head and seemed to come back to life, getting the attention of the other students. "Everyone, Bianca is in charge for a short time while I take Wednesday to the infirmary. Please be very careful when reading the instructions, and leave your work inside the mixing cauldrons for now, until I'm back. Nobody touch the spill."

He hurriedly had Wednesday up on her feet and rushed her out the door, and Enid gaped after them, chest feeling tight. What was that potion going to do to her friend?

Ajax and Xavier slid onto her bench on either side of her to console the werewolf, but she barely heard them through the ringing in her ears. She just looked down at her now dry hands and tried to keep breathing.

Bad day it was.

[maul-of-shame]

Celeborn aside ,would you like to share more baby Arwen as Elrondriel baby headcanons ? Like did they plan her birth or was she an accident baby ?

Hi Anon!!! Sure sure, here you go!

*Puts on tinfoil hat*

More "Galadriel + Elrond = Arwen" headcanons!!

I don't think Arwen would be an accident baby, considering Elrond's and Galadriel's characters, they're impulsive sometimes, sure, but I don't think this child would be an act made out of impulses. Elrond and Galadriel starting a family with everything going on in Middle-earth would be a big, life-altering decision, and they'd probably put a lot of thought into it, especially with the looming threats they’re up against.

Here are a few ways I imagine things might go down if they ever decided to have a child like Arwen/if my theory happens:

1. Timing Isn’t Perfect (But When Is It Ever?)

With battles constantly on the horizon and Middle-earth in a state of unrest, it’s hard to picture them just saying, “Yep, let’s have a baby!” They’re both strategic thinkers—and would likely want to wait for some kind of peace or stability before bringing a child into the world. But life isn’t always planned, even for elves, and maybe one day they’d realize that, despite the danger, they still want to have a future together that’s worth protecting. Also, children are a BIG DEAL for Elves: they’re very intentional, mindful of family, and cherish any new life as a blessing and a serious commitment. I genuinely think they wouldn't try for one until Rivendell's settled and Lothlorien advanced or something? Like talking about it before that, sure, as mention or complete discussion but I don't think they would bring a kiddo before they have a sort of "peace" and a place to call "home" around them.

And maybe, just maybe, Galadriel would get it into her head that even if the timing isn’t perfect, a child could be something worth fighting for—a little light amid the darkness.

2. More than Just a Family Decision

Galadriel’s always seen the bigger picture (hell she's got like 3 brothers?????), and Elrond would likely share in her vision of what their family could mean. It wouldn’t just be about bringing a child into the world—it would be about adding something beautiful and lasting to Middle-earth, something to keep hope alive even in the bleakest times. Something that is both of them, something beautiful.

That said, I think they’d want this decision to come from a place of genuine love and longing, not just as a “symbol” or political move. They’re both such layered, compassionate people that any child would be born out of a deep, mutual respect and love for each other and what they’re fighting for. But still, with so many forces around them, they’d be cautious about making this leap.

3. Imagining Arwen’s Traits

As Galadriel and Elrond’s daughter, Arwen would probably grow up with a strong sense of independence and confidence, even in the face of danger. I imagine her having Galadriel’s fire and willpower but tempered by Elrond’s compassion and wisdom. She’d carry both of their strengths—Galadriel’s fierce, warrior-like intensity and Elrond’s gentleness. Though, I can defo see her building her confidence as time goes by, because let's be honest I think we're all a bit too impressed with our parents when we're kids and she would probs be a shy little thing at first? Like in previously shared headcanons, I can defo picture her being really SHY and having a lisp or maybe a stammering problem? But Elrond and Galadriel would of course be here for her.

Looks-wise, she’d have her father’s dark hair with little glimmers of Galadriel’s ethereal light, making her stand out wherever she went. It’s easy to picture her looking a bit like a starlit night—mysterious and soft but powerful in her own right.

4. Parenting Styles: The Soft & The Strong

Galadriel as a mother? She’d be fiercely protective, determined to make Arwen strong and resilient, no matter what the world throws at her. She’d pass on her wisdom about battles and strategy, her unbreakable will, and all the lessons she’s learned from facing darkness time and again. But with that said, that doesn't mean I don't think Gal wouldn't be soft and tender with Arwen. I think having Arwen would help her be more vulnerable and open herself again after all the hurt Sauron caused. "Just because he doesn't have a heart doesn't mean you should stop using yours" as I usually say, type of way? I think she would be very gentle and kind with her.

Elrond would be the calming presence in Arwen’s life, teaching her empathy, patience, and the value of healing and kindness. Together, they’d create this incredibly balanced family dynamic, where Arwen learns that there’s strength in both courage and compassion, and that she doesn’t have to choose between the two. I can definitely imagine him being absolutely wrapped around her little finger and be a "girl dad" for SURE.

5. Growing Up Between Rivendell and Lothlórien

Arwen would be raised in a blend of Elrond’s peaceful Rivendell and Galadriel’s powerful Lothlórien. Imagine how much perspective she’d gain, seeing both realms’ strengths and challenges. This upbringing would make her well-rounded and wise beyond her years, grounded in her heritage but open to the future.

She’d learn the art of diplomacy from Elrond and the importance of courage from Galadriel. Her heart would belong to both Rivendell and Lothlórien, connecting her to her parents and both their worlds.

6. Arwen as a Legacy

If they had Arwen, it’d be as much about building a future as it is about sharing their lives together. Galadriel and Elrond would see her as the embodiment of all their hopes, a living bridge between two powerful elven realms. She’d be a symbol of their shared love, strength, and commitment to Middle-earth.

And if they did decide to bring her into a world full of conflict, it would be out of faith in each other and hope that their child would live in a world worth fighting for.

In the end, even though I think they might be cautious about timing, the love Elrond and Galadriel have for each other could overcome their reservations. They’d be ready to raise a child like Arwen if they believed that she’d be a light in the world, someone who could make Middle-earth a better place and carry on their hopes, dreams, and courage.

Now, more cute baby! Arwen headcanons because we all need fluff XD:

"The Little Healer": Arwen has a fascination with her father’s work, proudly declaring, "I’m a healer, too!" She gathers leaves and acorns, then clumsily applies “medicine” to Elrond’s hands. He sits patiently, looking absolutely serious as she “heals” him, calling her his “mighty little healer.”

"Starry Night Lullaby": Whenever Arwen has trouble sleeping, Elrond hums an ancient Elven lullaby, describing the stars in detail. She eventually drifts off, mumbling, "I’ll see the stars in my dreams.” He kisses her forehead and whispers, “Goodnight, my little starlight.”

"Elven Hair Salon": Arwen loves braiding her own hair, but when she sees her father’s long hair flowing, she insists on braiding his as well. She’s not very skilled, and the result is always tangled, but Elrond wears her “style” all day, proudly saying he has “the finest stylist in Rivendell.”

"Butterfly Friend": When butterflies land on Arwen’s shoulder as she wanders Rivendell’s gardens, she gasps and tells them all her secrets. Elrond smiles, calling her his “butterfly friend,” and pretends the butterflies are messengers there to tell him tales of her bravery.

"Late-Night Snuggles": Sometimes, when Arwen has a bad dream, she sneaks into her parents’ room and clambers up between them. Galadriel doesn’t say a word, pulling her close while Elrond gently strokes her hair until she falls asleep. He whispers, “Our little starlight is safe here.”

"The Sneaky Biscuit Thief": Arwen loves biscuits so much that she has a knack for finding them in the oddest places. One day, Elrond finds her hiding behind a tapestry, crumbs on her cheeks, giggling when she whispers, “Don’t tell Mama!”

"Gentle Warrior": Arwen once picked up a stick and declared herself a warrior, clumsily brandishing it in front of Elrond. He knelt down with mock fear, letting her “defeat” him with a gleeful shout of “I win!” She proudly parades around Rivendell, calling herself “the gentle warrior.”

"Tiny Tailor": One day, Arwen tries to “help” Galadriel sew, enthusiastically stitching random patterns on a small cloth. Instead of fixing it, Galadriel places it on her dressing table, declaring it “a masterpiece by my little tailor,” much to Arwen’s delight.

"Elven Treasure Hunter": Arwen loves collecting rocks, twigs, and feathers, declaring them all “treasures.” She eagerly hands them to Elrond, who examines each one and places them in a special box. He tells her, “Your treasures will keep Rivendell’s spirits high.”

"Secret Garden Talks": Arwen loves sitting in the garden with Elrond, asking endless questions about flowers and bugs. Elrond patiently answers every question, even when she asks if the flowers talk back. He smiles, saying, “They only share their secrets with little star-maps like you.”

"Her First Word Was…": Arwen’s first word was, to everyone’s surprise, “no!” She said it so emphatically that even Galadriel had to laugh. Elrond pretended to be heartbroken, dramatically sighing, “I was hoping for ‘Ada.’” Arwen just looked him in the eye and repeated, “No!”

"Little Magpie": Arwen’s eyes light up whenever she sees something shiny, like Galadriel’s jewelry or Elrond’s robes with their silver embroidery. She’ll toddle over, grab whatever sparkles, and declare, “Mine!” Elrond jokes that she must have inherited her love of glitter from the Noldor, which Galadriel does not deny.

"The Ada Show": Elrond quickly learns that Arwen loves a good show—especially if it involves him tripping or making funny faces. If he pauses in his antics, she’ll demand, “More Ada!” And of course, he obliges, performing the “Ada Show” until she’s in giggles.

"Nose Boop Expert": Arwen has a habit of booping people’s noses with her little finger. Elrond always plays along, gasping in mock surprise, and she’ll collapse into laughter. She even manages to get a boop on Gil-galad’s nose once, who raises an eyebrow and says, “Only for you, little one.”

"Cheeky Compliment": When Elrond finally hears Arwen say “Ada,” his heart melts—until she follows it up with, “Silly Ada!” Galadriel bursts out laughing while Elrond pretends to be offended. “I’m deeply hurt,” he says, as Arwen nods gravely and pats his cheek.

"Mirror, Mirror": Arwen’s obsessed with mirrors and loves staring at her reflection. She tries making faces and then looks around to make sure everyone else saw how cute she is. Galadriel watches with amusement, whispering to Elrond, “I think she’s discovered vanity a bit early.”

"First (Accidental) Spell": One day, Arwen accidentally utters a tiny spell word she’s overheard, causing her favorite plushie to float. Elrond and Galadriel watch in stunned silence as she claps, oblivious to her own magic. They exchange glances, silently agreeing they’ll need to keep an eye on this one.

"Big-Girl Words": Arwen learns a “grown-up” word and tries using it everywhere. “Quite!” she says after everything, mimicking Elrond’s serious tone. If someone asks if she wants a snack, she replies, “Quite!” Elrond realizes it might be time to monitor his vocabulary.

"The Dress-Up Debacle": Arwen insists on trying on Elrond’s robes. When they slip right off her shoulders, she shrieks, “Too big!” Elrond chuckles and promises her that one day she’ll have a beautiful gown, to which she replies, “Now!”

"The Bad Word": One day, Arwen overhears Elrond mutter a “grown-up” word after stubbing his toe. She repeats it gleefully for the rest of the day, while Elrond groans and Galadriel tries very hard not to laugh, reminding him, “Now who’s the silly one?”

"The Great Adventure": One afternoon, Arwen sneaks out of her room and decides to “explore.” She’s found hiding behind a curtain, peeking out with wide eyes as if she’s in enemy territory. Elrond lifts the curtain and says, “Aha! Found you!” to which she whispers, “Shh, I’m hiding!”

"Picky Little Elf": Arwen decides that the only acceptable food is “butter bread.” If she’s given anything else, she’ll wrinkle her nose, push it away, and sigh dramatically, saying, “Butter bread, please!” Elrond wonders if his daughter has somehow inherited his brother’s flair for dramatics.

"The ‘Big Elf’ Chair": Arwen decides one day that she’s ready for a “big elf chair.” She clambers onto Elrond’s seat at the dinner table, declaring, “Mine now!” He lets her stay until she starts slipping, and then she grudgingly lets him take her back to her usual spot.

"Too Many Questions": Arwen hits the “why” phase hard, questioning everything from “Why is Ada’s hair brown?” to “Why do stars twinkle?” Elrond, patient as ever, answers until he’s out of explanations, and Galadriel gently reminds him, “You used to do the same at her age.”

"Her Very Own Staff": Seeing Elrond with a staff, Arwen wants one too, but it has to be “her size.” Elrond finds a suitable branch, and she marches around Rivendell with it, looking incredibly serious and declaring herself “a wizard.”

"Too Loud!": Anytime something surprises Arwen—a clap of thunder, a loud laugh—she claps her hands over her ears and yells, “Too loud!” Elrond tries not to chuckle every time she demands that he “tell the noise to shush.”

"Her Favorite Song": Arwen learns a simple lullaby from Galadriel, and she hums it constantly. Even Gil-galad catches her softly singing it one day, and he smiles, whispering, “A true elf-child of Lothlórien.”

"My World": Whenever Arwen’s sleepy, she climbs into Elrond’s lap, clutching his robe tightly. She’ll murmur, “My world,” before drifting off, and Elrond, touched, sits perfectly still until she wakes up again, whispering, “And you are mine.”

[savage-rhi]

Duality

Chapter 13: The Walk

Summary: Sawyer Kiddo has walked a razor's edge as a hacktivist for several years, driven by the loss of her family in the Raccoon City incident. Haunted by past choices and fueled with desire for vigilante justice, Sawyer's work takes an unexpected turn when she ventures to Spain and crosses paths with Luis Serra—a man with blood on his hands long thought to be dead. Together they unravel a web of corruption and face an impending bioterror threat, fighting not only monsters but also the darker elements of their humanity. As they delve deeper into each other's pasts and the conspiracy at large, Sawyer begins to sense something unsettling about Luis—something that might be even more dangerous than their mutual enemies.

Read on AO3 Here

Two Legs stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the attic door with an intensity that bordered on obsession. 

Almost two weeks had passed since Sawyer had woken up, and hardly a word was spoken between them. Not that Two Legs minded silence—usually, it suited him best, but this was different. He tried not to take it personally. Humans, he reasoned, needed substantial downtime when they're upset. He had seen it before in fragments of Luis's memories, people retreating into themselves to heal. That's why he'd moved downstairs to one of the smaller rooms, leaving the attic to Sawyer. Not that she ever asked for it. 

The most she'd said in days was a quiet "hello" or to ask where the bathroom was. Two Legs knew he should be grateful. Sawyer promised him time and space to adjust, and she'd kept her word, but he missed her voice more than he expected. How she bantered with him, and hell, even when she got angry. The thought of her pinning him to the wall back at the hotel in Toledo was something he thought of often with a stupid grin. It certainly made his skin tingle.

Only the faint shuffle of her feet above and an uncomfortable quiet remained. It reminded Two Legs that there had been a time, as brief as it was when she seemed alive. Spirited, as humans would call it. 

He hoped that was all this was—downtime.

Two Legs exhaled, dragging his gaze away from the attic, and headed toward the kitchen. His footsteps were as silent as the rest of the house, but his mind was loud with thoughts that came to him in the form of pictures and quick snaps of things he'd seen recently, mixed with remnants of Luis's memories he used as a guide around the residence. He noted that he still needed to clean the fireplace in the living room and make it presentable, along with the book room where he currently spent most of his time.

Cleanliness wasn't something the plaga ever thought his nature would be inclined to, but having a guest brought it out in him for better or worse. It reminded him of his primary duties in the Valdelobos hive, where he'd pick off weaker brethren and ensure the structure comb was secure to caves, bringing a smile to his lips at the connection. Whatever happiness he felt soon vanished as Two Legs furrowed his brows when he came to a stop.

Sawyer's plate sat on the counter untouched since last night. The meat and vegetables had dried to a sad, cold heap.

She hadn't eaten much of anything he had prepared for her, and while Two Legs knew he was not a five-star chef, Luis knew a thing or two about meal-making that he could pull from. Enough to where he was confident Sawyer shouldn't have been put off by what he left out for her, by human standards at any rate.

From what Two Legs observed over the last few weeks, it seemed that the only thing Sawyer nibbled at was the snacks from the grocery bag he bought for her upstairs. He knew she was coming down to the wire, as he hadn't heard the sound of a bag of chips or a granola bar being opened in the past couple of days.

Two Legs stared at the plate for a moment longer, trying to ignore the growing pit in his stomach. At first, it was practical to make her meals — feeding Sawyer to keep her strong, like preparing livestock for slaughter. He pressed his lips together, trying to push the thought aside, but it stuck. That logic didn't sit right anymore with him as he glared and pressed on.

He opened the fridge, reached for a bowl of grapes and cherries, and paused. His hand hovered over them before lowering again. The cool air from the refrigerator brushed his skin as he stood there, frowning.

She's getting thinner...

Even if Two Legs couldn't always see Sawyer, he knew. He could hear it in her movements, sensing how her steps seemed lighter. The concern was becoming insistent, the same discomfort he'd felt in Madrid, in Toledo. Hell, since they first met. Two Legs species wasn't built to care like this, but he could feel it creeping under his skin and growing.

He wanted to help her. No, more than that.

He wanted to comfort her. 

The realization made his jaw clench, his teeth grinding together. These feelings, these thoughts, they didn't belong to him. They shouldn't belong to him.

What the hell is wrong with me…? 

Without another word, Two Legs grabbed the bowl of grapes and cherries, shutting the fridge harder than he intended.

Maybe Sawyer would eat today, perhaps she wouldn't, but he'd keep trying—because something in him, some unknown thing he still didn't understand, wouldn't let him stop.

Several minutes later, Two Legs stood in front of the attic door. He released a deep breath and softly knocked, his fingers brushing the wood with more hesitation than purpose.

"Sawyer," Two Legs' voice was barely a whisper. He was unsure if he even wanted to wake her up.

When he entered, the room was dim, a quiet refuge untouched by the morning light that had started to peek through the cracks of the curtains.

Venturing closer, Two Legs saw Sawyer was still asleep, curled in on herself, limbs tangled in the sheets as if protecting her body. The sight made him stop momentarily, just staring at her. It was almost eight in the morning—late by most measures—but he was still unsure what "most" meant when it came to her, unclear if this was too early to be impeding.

Two Legs' brow furrowed, still trying to grasp how human circadian rhythms worked, especially hers. Luis had always been a night owl; naturally, so had he. The plaga were inclined to a nocturnal living. But since Sawyer arrived, Two Legs woke earlier than his instincts allowed. It wasn't just the constant low-level dread that she might figure out he wasn't human and needed to be on guard; something else stirred beneath the surface, a desire to understand her world and her ways. He hadn't been prepared for this—for any of it—living with another being, not just occupying space but learning them and absorbing their habits.

Two Legs didn't have much to go on; Luis's memories weren't beneficial—most of his life was solitary, save for the fleeting misadventures and connections he made during college and at work. None of them were like this, like her. 

Gracias por nada, amigo… (42)

The bowl of fruit in his hand felt oddly heavy.

Two Legs placed the bowl on the nightstand, replacing the old, untouched one with mold speckles growing on the orange slices. The bright colors looked out of place in the muted light of the room. His eyes shifted, noticing Sawyer's blanket had slipped; kicked down to the end of the bed in her sleep. Without thinking, Two Legs reached for it, intending to toss it back like a chore that needed to be checked off. But as he started to turn, something held him still, and he looked back at her, at her face. How it cradled against the pillow he normally nuzzled into. There was a peculiar urge in him, one that he didn't recognize but couldn't ignore.

Hesitantly, like a child testing a parent's boundary, Two Legs returned to the bed, carefully draping the blanket over Sawyer with awkward, mechanical precision. He had seen humans do this—covering each other up, tucking one another in as if the act was a way of caring. Once he completed that, his hand hovered above Sawyer's head, fingers trembling, and he was unsure what to do next.

Slowly, as though the action were alien to him, Two Legs patted Sawyer's head, imitating how he'd seen humans pet their animals and other beasts of burden.

Luis once wrote a college thesis on the symbiotic relationship between Amazonian tarantulas and frogs, exploring how such a delicate balance might someday emerge between parasitic organisms and humans, given the right conditions. The frogs found safety beneath the spider's formidable presence, sheltered in its burrow, while the frog repaid its silent debt by devouring ants and larvae that threatened the spider's young, a near-perfect exchange of power.

Two Legs realized that, under the circumstances, he was the spider, and Sawyer, the frog, nestled under the shadow of his legs. Maybe that was why he made the eight-hour journey to bring her half-dead body to this place. Perhaps he was so protective because he needed protection himself.

Maybe that was all she was, a pet.

The thought should have felt cold and transactional but blossomed into warmth and settled in Two Legs' chest like a quiet flame. Although the term 'pet' was tangible, it still felt incorrect. If anything, Luis would fit that category, and Sawyer wasn't Luis, nor anyone else he had ever known. She was some other thing. He couldn't name it, didn't understand why it lodged so deeply in him, but it mattered in a way that startled him.

Two Legs stepped back, his eyes lingering on Sawyer's face one last time before he scribbled a quick note on a sticky pad nearby and left it on the table for her to read later, letting her know he would be stepping outside to go for a walk and she was welcome to come along.

Slipping out the door with the same calmness he had entered, Two Legs noticed a faint lightness dropping in his body, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Many questions remained unanswered, hovering at the edges of his thoughts, but they didn't seem to matter as much for now as he turned his attention elsewhere.

Two Legs wandered along a narrow path an hour later, the soles of his shoes pressing into the dirt with a stable, mindless rhythm. Occasionally, he'd glance to his right, eyes drifting below to the valley stretching toward the horizon, a town at the base cradled by mountains and sea, the ocean shimmering just far beyond. Trees were scattered here and there, providing pockets of shade as the sun's heat started to grow. The air was dense with the scent of salt, mingling with the rich, earthy fragrance of the trail beneath him. San Viento del Mar was a sight for the senses, even for a creature like himself. The area was tranquil in a way Valdelobos could never hold a torch to, but even such serenity couldn't still the disquiet that followed Two Legs throughout his little venture. Thoughts of Sawyer pulled at him, disrupting the routine distractions that usually accompanied him on these walks.

As Two Legs recalled the past week, a pain throbbed in a place where his heart should have been mute. He remembered how his every attempt at care was met with silence or suspicion, how Sawyer's eyes seemed haunted by something he couldn't quite understand nor witness himself, almost as if she disappeared into "the other place," but one of her own making. His thoughts circled around it, tighter and tighter, until they coiled into something that resembled fear—her fear and his—of each other.

Fear was such a strange sensation. His kind, the plaga, had no need for it. Not in the sense that humans did. In his world, the hive attempted to flourish in the absence of such emotion. Small doses were acceptable as it ensured survival, but beyond that, to have fear was to have attachment, and attachment was unnecessary when the main focus was to expand and defend the territory. Yet Two Legs could feel it, soft and insidious, whispering in his ear, reminding him that he couldn't control everything, much less control Sawyer's actions and behavior toward him despite good intentions. He couldn't control his fear when she was dying in his arms, nor could he prevent its emergence when he encountered the other plaga back in Toledo.

The fear brought Two Legs back to his earlier efforts that week, how he had forced himself into "the other place" for forty-eight hours straight, pushing his mind to the limit to retrieve memories tied to Alvarez and Luis, using the method of overdosing on sleep medication and setting an intention—a ridiculous pursuit, if ever there was one. Not for the risk of death—Two Legs was immune to the medication's dangerous properties—but for the fact that he had implemented a religious prayer Luis used when he felt cornered in his research when fear would keep him from leaping off the edge. Two Legs vaguely repeated some of the words in his mind, letting them flow in and out as he gently kicked at a few stones near his feet.

Permíteme discernir mis verdaderas necesidades que me están ocultas.

No te pido ni cruz ni consuelo; Te espero con paciencia...(1)

Prayer felt strangely similar to how plagas would call out for help through the hive mind when faced with danger—an overwhelming cry for strength against an enemy. Yet, despite his dedication to a higher authority, Two Legs had emerged from the stunt with more questions than answers, enough pictures to tell the story but not enough to solidify the narrative. And now, he didn't know how he would explain it all to Sawyer when they'd eventually cross that bridge. How could he tell her about the memory gaps and missing details without revealing the truth about himself, that he wasn't Luis?

Two Legs could already picture the look in Sawyer's eyes at discovering his true face—the way her hand might instinctively reach for something sharp, or worse, a gun. She'd seen what happened to Samuel, how he twisted into that monstrous form, an insect wrapped in human skin, and how, despite their shared bond, she eventually found the courage to destroy him. After everything she'd been through, Two Legs doubted she'd have a heart for a creature like him.

No human would.

It suddenly hit him—the small acts of care—it wasn't instinct that made him wake early, listening for her movements, his mind tangled in questions he couldn't answer. It was her. It had always been her. And the fear biting at Two Legs wasn't just about being discovered; it was the dread that Sawyer might genuinely see him and, in that moment, he would lose something he didn't even know he needed.

For the first time since he could remember, Two Legs cared about being seen in the truest sense—naked and judged. He cared how humans viewed him as a person.

He cared how Sawyer saw him.

A small gasp left Two Legs' mouth as he rounded the bend. A familiar musk with cucumber and yeast wafted through the air, cutting down the last of his scattered thoughts. He knew that smell all too well, and he knew who the owner was.

Luis's memories flashed through Two Legs' mind, unsought but vivid. He could see her behind his eyes as he closed them briefly—the older woman, always quick to smile, her warmth woven into every quirk of her aging frame. 

Ida…

In those distant years, when Luis was barely a teen, Ida had become a role model for him in the new world away from Valdelobos. She reminded him of his Abuela—the grandmother he never knew but always imagined through Abuelo's stories, the kind of woman who would slip homemade bread into his hands, gossiping bits of wisdom while weaving wild tales and offering unsolicited affection.

Two Legs didn't share Luis's sentimentality, at least not in the human sense. However, the old neighbor carved out a place in his borrowed heart with her nosy habits and meddling ways. He found something intriguing in the elderly—a subdued resilience that set them apart from their younger and more restless counterparts.

Seeing Ida come into view, Two Legs recalled how simple it would've been—practical, even—to erase her presence when he first reclaimed the Jacintos' household. He could have wiped the slate clean and staked his territory with no loose ends or prying eyes, but she never threatened him. No, there had been no fear in Ida's eyes the day they met, no tremor in her voice, just that neighborly zeal—friendly curiosity over why Luis had returned after nearly a decade of being gone. She'd offered him food before asking questions, even cracking jokes to coax a smile out of him.

It disturbed Two Legs how close she'd been to death without ever knowing it—how she could've been snuffed out, ignorant to the danger she was in. Oblivious to the hunter she was befriending, standing right in front of her. He couldn't comprehend how humans were so gullible. Yet, in the end, Two Legs had no appetite for her. She wasn't prey. She was just old Ida.

Two Legs didn't understand why it was different with her, how it was so easy to suppress the instinct to devour an old feeble creature, yet the ache refused to fade with Sawyer.

"Ah, Luis, estás en casa! Ha pasado demasiado tiempo. " Ida's voice called out, warm and teasing. She lifted her basket like a prize to behold with a grin. "He traído pan recién salido del horno. Pensé que podríamos compartirlo en el almuerzo de hoy si estabas en casa. Me alegro de haberte encontrado. Más tarde iré a la ciudad, así que si necesitas algo de la carnicería, dímelo. ¿Te trató bien tu viaje al capitolio?" (2)

Two Legs smiled, grateful for her presence—her predictability—and how it eased his hesitation. Perhaps that's why Luis had always held her in such high regard and admired women in general. Females carried an air of stability, a quality that always seemed to evade him.

"Me malcrías, Ida," he said with a chuckle, voice softer than he meant it to be. "Te acepto el viaje a la carnicería, pero me temo que el almuerzo tendrá que esperar. No es el mejor momento." (3)

Before Two Legs could explain further, Ida's sharp eyes looked past him. Her smile faltered, brow knitting in confusion. She squinted at something behind him in the distance, something—or someone—hovering just at the edge of sight.

"Ida?"

"Allí," She nodded toward the figure. (4)

Two Legs did a double take, and for a moment, his mind froze. His heart lurched into his throat, not expecting to see Sawyer outside. Hell, he hadn't expected her to even be out of bed, much less venture far away from the house to catch up to him, even with the note he left behind for her.

"Veo que recogiste un recuerdo de Madrid," Ida's curious voice snapped Two Legs out of his trance. She tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over Sawyer with an almost maternal scrutiny as if assessing every piece of her. (5)

"Más bien ella me recogió." Two Legs murmured under his breath, more to himself than to Ida. (6)

"¿Quién, quién es ella?" (7)

"Es...una amiga," Two Legs said, though the word felt wrong—too small for what she was, too weak for what they'd gone through. "Una invitada. Su nombre es Sawyer." (8)

"¿De qué región es ella?" (9)

"Ella no es de aquí. Es americana. Una turista." (10)

"Turista?" Ida's brow arched skeptically, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she looked at him. "De todas las mujeres guapas de Barcelona a Madrid, ¿Te trajiste a casa a una americana con el culo plano?" (11)

"¡Oye, sé amable!" Two Legs laughed, but his cheeks flushed, heat spreading under his skin. "No es tan plano." (12)

Ida chuckled, giving his arm a playful swat, but her laughter faded as her eyes narrowed on something that stole the humor from her face—the bandages peeking just beneath Sawyer's shirt. Even from a great distance, she could see them well. Her expression darkened with concern, and her voice briefly lost its warmth.

"¿Y para qué es eso?" (13)

"¿Para qué es qué?" Two Legs muttered with a swallow, though he already knew where this was going. (14)

"Las heridas en ella," Ida said more sharply now, her eyes locking onto his, hard as steel. " ¿Hiciste eso?" (15)

"¡Podrido, claro que no!" Two Legs stomach dropped, a wave of shame hitting him as if she'd slapped him across the face. He flinched, almost bracing himself for Ida to take a swing at him with her basket. "¿Qué clase de hombre crees que soy? ¡Nunca lastimaría a una dama!" (16)

"¡Bien!" Ida's stern gaze softened, her tone gentle but probing. "¿Pero cogiste al que lo hizo?" (17)

For a moment, the question lingered between them as Two Legs' gaze drifted back to Sawyer, who had seated herself on a weathered bench by a grove of trees, her eyes distant, as if searching for something she'd lost. Seeing her like that stirred a soft spot in himself as he wondered what was on her mind and what motivated her to come out this far.

"No," he said quietly, keeping his eyes on her. "Ella ha pasado por mucho." (18)

Ida nodded, the lines around her eyes softening with compassion as she glanced between Two Legs and Sawyer, raising her brows briefly as if something clicked.

"Ya veo," she murmured. "Tendremos que posponer mi visita entonces, ¿no?" (19)

"Eso sería lo mejor," Two Legs replied, turning his attention to Ida. "Al menos hasta que se sienta mejor." (20)

"Parece simpática," Ida mused, her gaze lingering on Sawyer. Her tone had a knowing, gentle interest, which didn't escape her concern. (21)

Two Legs felt the term catch in his throat for a beat. Like with 'pet,' 'nice' wasn't quite the right word he had in mind for Sawyer, but it was the easiest to grasp at the moment . He smiled again as his gaze settled on her, staring longer than before.

"Si, ella es." (22)

Only when Ida's loud chortle startled him did Two Legs realize he had been too preoccupied for his own good. He could feel the back of his neck heating up as Ida grinned at him.

"No dejes que te meta en sus asuntos, Luis. Siempre has tenido problemas con las chicas. Debe ser la maldición de ser guapo." (23)

"¡Eres tan territorial conmigo!" Two Legs threw his hands up in mock surrender, giving her a flirtatious grin. "¡No soy digno de ello!" (24)

Ida's laughter, hearty and warm, filled the air. "Chico, si tuviera treinta años menos, tu virtud estaría en peligro. Será mejor que tengas cuidado!" (25)

He clutched his chest in exaggerated horror, playing along. "¿Intentas provocarme un infarto?" (26)

"Nah. Sólo un pequeño empujón ," she winked. (27)

They shared another chuckle, a short reprieve from the suspense Two Legs hadn't realized he was carrying. But as the laughter faded, so did the distraction. Two Legs pivoted weirdly, his thoughts weaving around Sawyer again as he rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat, quickly glancing at Ida.

"Oye Ida, tengo una pregunta." (28)

She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Esto debería ser bueno ¿De qué se trata?" (29)

"Se trata de ella," he admitted, the worry seeping into his voice despite his best efforts to mask it. "Ella realmente no ha comido mucho desde que llegó aquí. Yo, eh...no sé qué hacer. ¿Alguna sugerencia?" (30)

"Ah, el viejo dilema de me importa pero no puedo admitirlo." Ida chuckled. (31)

"¿Qué?" His face scrunched. "No, sólo intento mantenerla con vida. Es supervivencia. Como alimentar a una mascota." (32)

Ida burst out laughing. "Una mascota, ¿eh? Bueno, cariño, estás en un gran problema si es una mascota. Parece que eres tú el que mueve la cola." (33)

Two Legs blinked. "Eso está... mal en muchos sentidos." (34)

"¿Pero lo es?" Ida chuckled, then let out a breath before answering fully. "Bueno, la solución es bastante fácil. Cuando mi hijo era pequeño, se negaba a comer nada nuevo desde que nos mudamos de Madrid a Figueres. Más quisquilloso que un gato con un plato de sopa. Al final, empecé a hacerle las recetas de su abuela. Algo familiar." (35)

Two Legs frowned, thinking back to the meals he'd prepared. "Entonces, ¿estás diciendo que debería cocinarle a Sawyer algo de... su abuela?" (36)

"No necesariamente," Ida said, stifling a laugh. "Tal vez solo consíguele algo que le recuerde a casa, como comida rápida. Engrásalo muy bien. ¿No es eso lo que comen los americanos?" (37)

"Hamburguesas y papas fritas, veinticuatro siete. Sí, suena bien." Two Legs snorted as a memory of one of Luis's colleagues from the States played through, and how the man could eat his entire weight in fries like it was no one's business. Two Legs cringed at the thought of Sawyer pulling a similar stunt, not that he'd stop her, but because he was not a creature that cared for too much salt in his diet, it made him very sick in the past, and he still had no clue if it was a limitation of his species or Luis's body. (38)

"No es exactamente gourmet, ¿eh?" Ida teased. "Pero podría ser lo que ella necesita. Nada demasiado exótico." (39)

"Bien. Sin tentáculos ni nada que se mueva," Two Legs mumbled then laughed. "Gracias, Ida." (40)

"De nada. Te veré luego mi muchacho. "Ida patted his arm and smiled big as she circled back on the trail to return to her residence. While walking away, she turned to give him one final mischievous look. "¡Buena suerte Romeo!" (41)

Two Legs frowned at that, unsure what she meant by 'Romeo,' but shrugged it off.

With the distraction of Ida out of the way, Two Legs let his eyes meander back to Sawyer. She was still on the bench, gazing out toward the valley, not seeming to pay him nor the world any heed. At first, he wondered how much of the conversation she had caught onto, his face heating up until he remembered that Sawyer had confessed to not knowing Spanish too well. Also, the longer he thought of it, Two Legs doubted her hearing was on par with his, that she could detect things at great distances. She'd have to be superhuman, and last he checked, she was anything but.

He contemplated leaving Sawyer alone to let her gather her thoughts and process what needed to be processed. Two Legs figured she'd like to enjoy the scenery by herself until he reminded himself of a few things: First, she needed to learn her way around the property. Second, if she wanted to be alone, Sawyer never would've ventured out this far, much less followed him or would've left the attic, and finally, he wanted to hear her speak again, to talk to him like before. His mind couldn't help but suddenly replay how Sawyer would say Luis's name, how satisfying it was to hear it rolling off her tongue despite him not being the owner himself.

Two Legs could feel his heart's tempo picking up the longer he dwelled on the sound of Sawyer's voice, and he recognized fear—not the fear from his earlier contemplations, but another variant that tied extremely close in tandem with his worry of being exposed, of being seen for what he was. He finally took a deep breath—though it didn't help—and forced himself to walk over to her. Every step was inelegant as if he were learning to walk again.

Two Legs had no idea what he was doing and didn't know how to fix things between himself and her, but one thing was clear: He was going to try.

"Uh, hey! Fancy seeing you out and about!" Two Legs grinned as he approached the trees near the bench, his voice coming out louder than planned. Still, he mentally high-fived himself for the effort as he watched Sawyer glance up, smirking while giving a lazy nod toward him.

"Was that your grandma you were talking to just now?"

"Ida?" Two Legs blinked and laughed, scratching the back of his neck. "Oh, no, we're not related! She's just a nice old widow who sometimes brings me food because, y'know, I'm quite irresistible. Even to the bingo crowd."

His eyes widened for a split second, shocked at what left his mouth before giving a lopsided grin, attempting to look smooth as his foot caught on a rock, sending him stumbling before he awkwardly plopped down beside Sawyer on the bench.

"You good?"

"Y-yeah, just a little tired, is all. A lot of walking, y'know?"

Two Legs shifted uncomfortably, leaving too much between them then overcorrected, sliding closer until his body brushed against Sawyer's. He faintly apologized under his breath, unsure why he was saying it in the first place.

"I didn't know old ladies were your type," Sawyer quipped, sneaking a glance to check if Luis was alright. She moved slightly, trying to mask the warmth creeping up her face.

"What can I say? I have range." Two Legs grinned, though his face reddened as he shot her a playful wink and hurried to give her more space. "She likes you, by the way."

"Oh really?" Sawyer's smirk deepened as she leaned back, thankful she didn't have to budge. "I couldn't tell if she wanted to come over and say hi or hit me with that basket."

"Eh, probably both, if I'm being honest." Two Legs chuckled. "Ida only tolerates me because I remind her of her first boyfriend…or was it the second? I'm like vintage hot, apparently."

"Are you serious?"

He chuckled nervously, once again unsure why he said what he said. "Okay, maybe I made up the last part."

"Vintage hot, huh?" Sawyer's grin widened, looking him over as if sizing him up compared to the remark.

"You know, in a classy way," Two Legs cleared his throat, flustering as he bragged further. "Like a nice antique chest."

Sawyer burst into a laughing fit, her whole body shaking, oblivious to Two Legs' wide-eyed horror as he fumbled to salvage his pride.

"Wait, no! I didn't mean chest—like a chest of drawers! I meant something better! Like, uh—like a...ah, forget it!"

"No, no, please! Don't let me stop you." Sawyer wiped a tear from her eye, still grinning mischievously as her laughter fell to something more manageable. "Y'know, being a chest isn't so bad. You can hold a lot of shit inside you. That's a good quality to have, being durable like that."

Two Legs groaned, slumping forward and burying his face in his hands, though a muffled laugh escaped from between his fingers. "I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

"Never," Sawyer grunted, shaking her head. "You're a mess." 

"Hey," he shot her a hopeful grin, leaning into the banter. "Messes can be endearing, right?"

"If you say so," Sawyer nodded, and a soft smile reached her eyes for the first time in what felt like ages.

Despite how embarrassed he was at himself, for a fleeting moment, Two Legs would have done it all over to hear her laugh like that again. He found his eyes trailing over her, easing up as he caught the light in Sawyer's gaze. Then, with a playful nudge of his chin, he gestured to the turf of crumpled paper poking out of her pants pocket.

"I see you found my note from earlier."

"Yeah," Sawyer nodded, fingers grazing the edge of her pocket where she'd tucked it away.

The sticky note—scrawled with elegant cursive, too fancy for someone like Luis but somehow fitting—had made her chuckle when she first found it, giving birth to a quip she intended to share later on. But now, sitting beside him and after what just happened, she felt a knot in her throat.

"You wanna keep walking?" Two Legs asked, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he tried to compose himself.

"Actually," Sawyer paused, trying to find something to lighten the moment but to no avail. She decided now was as good of time as any to bring something important up, to not beat around the bush as Samuel would've put it once upon a time. "I came here to talk to you about the three boxes of tampons and pads in the bathroom."

Two Legs's face flushed redder than a stoplight, and he immediately looked away like he'd just been caught in a lie. It was an understatement to say this hit him out of left field, as he recalled when he purchased them and the snack stockpile he got for Sawyer, remembering the weird looks and snark some males gave him and how a couple of females complimented his kindness. He didn't realize the products' societal connotations until he descended the rabbit hole of Luis's memories. All he understood then was that females of the human species bled sometimes and used the devices to clean up.

His eyes darted back to hers, nervous and expectant. "Did I overstep getting those for you? I wasn't sure which ones to grab."

"No, no, you didn't cross a line," Sawyer said quickly, shaking her head. "It's just that you wasted your money. You might want to return them and get a refund if it's not too late."

"Wasted, what do you mean?" His brow knitted, confusion crossing his features like she'd just spoken an ancient tongue. "I might be uneducated in this area," he gestured awkwardly, "but I do know women—"

"I'm sterile."

Two Legs blinked, his expression freezing mid-thought as if something inside him short-circuited. "You're...what?"

"Sterile. I'm fixed," Sawyer shrugged, eyes downcast. "So I don't, y'know..."

"Bleed?"

"Yeeeahhh...well, unless I'm shot at," Sawyer murmured with a huff and shoved her hands into her pockets, rocking on her heels, trying to seem like it hadn't just cost her something to say it.

"Oh." Two Legs voice muffled as his gaze dropped to his lap, his fingers picking at a loose thread in his jeans. He still didn't quite understand what she meant by being fixed, but he smiled, looking at her. "Well, if you get shot again, they might be useful, so it's not a total loss. The first aid kit is gonna be packed, though."

"That's disgusting!" Sawyer fought to keep a straight face, but a snort of laughter escaped before she could stop it. "But hey, reduce, reuse, recycle, right?"

"Exactly!" Two Legs grin spread wide, relief shining in his eyes, proud of himself for pulling her out of the spiral. "I'm sure they'd help nosebleeds too!"

"God, you're so gross," Sawyer shook her head. Glancing at Luis with a half smile as her laughter died, she said, "Thanks, though, for thinking about me."

"It's nothing," Two Leg's expression eased as he looked at her and shrugged, attempting to play it off. "I didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

"You didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to take care of you."

Sawyer's heart twisted slightly at his sincerity, mainly since they hadn't spoken much in a long time. She knew that was her fault, and although she didn't regret taking time to herself, she could tell her silence affected Luis, even if he didn't say it aloud.

"Hey," Two Legs murmured, his voice gentler than usual. "Do you want some breakfast? I'm getting hungry."

"Nah," Sawyer murmured as she shook her head, glancing over him. "but I'd like the company. If that's okay?"

"Yeah!" Two Legs practically jumped at her response, his answer too quick. "I mean—yeah, of course! Company! I can do that. Company's my middle name."

He cringed at himself the second the words left his mouth, wondering why he stumbled like that.

"Sure, Luis," Sawyer raised an eyebrow. A slight smirk tugged at her lips as she chuckled. "We should roll out before your stomach starts speaking for you further."

"Too late for that..." Two Legs chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. He got up alongside Sawyer from the bench, gesturing for her to take the lead before walking beside her at the right. It was several minutes before he spoke up again, noticing his earlier observations about Sawyer losing weight were correct now that he was close enough to get a gander.

"Hey, if you change your mind about food, I've got bread. And, y'know, things that go on bread."

"Wow," Sawyer remarked sarcastically, turning her head to look at him with a smile and raised brow. "Things that go on bread. You really know how to sell it."

"Stick with me, and you'll be eating like royalty in no time," Two Legs grinned. "I mean, bread and toppings? That's high-class. Especially if we're talking about pizza."

"I said it before, I'll say it again: I'm stunned you don't live in a van."

"Personally? I'd go for a cave if I had the option."

"Speaking to your inner caveman?"

"No, I just like the dark."

"I think they call that depression, Luis."

They both laughed. It wasn't the kind of laugh that brightened a room, but it was enough.

Two Legs realized then that this moment was enough. He didn't need to fix anything or overthink his fears. Alvarez, "the other place," the monsters, his weird ramblings—none mattered now except being here, sharing this moment. And judging by the change in Sawyer's demeanor, maybe that was all she needed, too.

Notes:

Spanish to English Translation (FYI, I'm not well versed in Spanish but I tried my best) 1. Allow me to discern my true needs that are hidden from me. I do not ask you for a cross or consolation; I wait for you with patience. 2. Ah, Luis, you're home! It's been too long! I've brought fresh bread, just out of the oven. Thought we could share it over lunch today if you were home. I'm glad I caught you! I'm heading into town later, so if you need anything from the butcher, just let me know. Did your trip to the capitol treat you well? 3. You spoil me, Ida. I'll take you up on that trip to the butcher, but I'm afraid lunch will have to wait. It's not the best time. 4. Over there 5. I see you picked up a souvenir from Madrid. 6. More like she picked me up. 7. Who, who is she? 8. She's...a friend. A guest. Her name's Sawyer. 9. What region is she from? 10. She's not from here. She's American. A tourist. 11. Tourist? Of all the beautiful women from Barcelona to Madrid, you brought home an American with a flat butt? 12. Hey be nice! It's not that flat. 13. And what's that for? 14. What's what for? 15. The wounds on her. Did you do that? 16. Rotten! Of course not! What kind of a man do you think I am? I'd never hurt a lady! 17. Good! But did you get the one who did it? 18. No. She's been through a lot. 19. I see. We'll have to raincheck my visit then, won't we? 20. That'd be best. At least until she's feeling better. 21. She seems nice. 22. Yeah, she is. 23. Don't let her get you tangled up in her business, Luis. You've always had a way of finding trouble with girls. Must be the curse of being handsome. 24. You’re so territorial over me! I’m not worthy of it! 25. Boy, if I were thirty years younger, your virtue would be in danger. You best be careful! 26. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? 27. Nah, just a little jumpstart. 28. Hey Ida, I have a question 29. This should be good. What is it about? 30. It's about her. She hasn't really eaten much since she got here. I, uh...I don't know what to do. Any suggestions? 31. Ah, the ol' 'I care but I can't admit it' dilemma. 32. What? No, I'm just trying to keep her alive. It's survival. Like—feeding a pet. 33. A pet, huh? Well, sweetheart, you're in big trouble if she's a pet. Sounds like you're the one wagging your tail. 34. That’s…wrong in so many ways. 35. Is it though? Well, the solution is easy enough. When my son was a boy, he refused to eat anything new after we moved from Madrid to Figueres. Picky as a cat with a bowl of soup. Finally, I started making him his abuela's recipes—comfort food, you know? Something familiar. 36. So, you're saying I should cook Sawyer something from...her abuela? 37. Not necessarily. Maybe just get her something that reminds her of home, like fast food. Grease it up really well. Isn't that what Americans eat? 38. Burgers and fries, twenty-four seven. Yeah, sounds about right. 39. "Not exactly gourmet, huh? But it might be what she needs. Nothing too exotic. 40. Right. No tentacles or anything wiggling. Thanks, Ida. 41. You're welcome! I'll see you around, my boy. Good luck Romeo! 42. Thanks for nothing, friend

[or13m]

A Reprieve (Undertale) Chapter 004

Your leg just wouldn’t stop moving!

You sat in the booth next to your sibling, your other side occupied by a snoozing Sans, and your leg was bouncing up and down a mile a minute!

“stars, kiddo,” Sans abruptly spoke, breaking you out of the staring contest you were having with the basket of biscuits sitting oh-so-innocently in the center of the table. “you’re baking me nervous. wheat's up?”

His bad puns had your mouth twisting into a smile, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The busy atmosphere in the bar was too intense for you to stay calm and loose, especially without your protective teddy bear. Neither Ash nor Poplar felt comfortable enough to get out amongst these sorts of crowds, so they had remained home. You didn’t either, but Alice had left you no choice. S/n had been dragged along, too, mainly for your benefit, but you had no intentions of leaving them alone in a place you were unfamiliar with. This was not the same establishment that your sibling worked at with their two hotheaded bosses.

It didn’t help matters that it was a Friday night, which meant it was busier than normal.

“People,” you signed back at him, looking around at all of them. The majority were humans, but there were some monsters milling about. The building was nowhere close to full capacity, but it was crowded enough to put you on edge. Thankfully, you and s/n had snagged a corner booth near the barkeep. With the way it was made, it easily sat eight people—human or monster—with an open side that left enough space for three chairs to be pulled up to it. It made for a crowded experience, but it worked...until someone needed to get out of the booth that couldn’t just teleport away...

“Everything’s fine. We’re fine. I’m fine,” s/n spoke in a low voice, but loud enough for you and those close enough to hear. Your good eye glanced over at them to make certain that their words were true. Logically, you knew that you were both safe. If not for the fact that this was a good city with a good track record when it came to low crime rates, then the multiple monster friends surrounding the pair of you was a good start.

Emotionally, on the other hand...

Your head was a mess of horrible scenarios and worse outcomes. You were still in the process of healing and your insides were a mess of bruised bones and organs. If something happened again like the situation from a couple of months ago, then you weren’t sure if your weakened body would be capable of standing between the danger and your precious sibling...

That was not something that you were willing to let your guard down for.

“hey, sweetcheeks, we get what it’s like to be on edge all the time,” Red spoke from the opposite side of Sans as he leaned on the table, a bottle of mustard in his hands. Sans had the ketchup cradled in his arms beside you but was running the phalanges of his free hand along your thigh to calm you down. Red’s scarlet eyes didn’t miss the motion and they narrowed at the skeleton sitting next to him, but he didn’t speak on it.

“We got the drinks!” Alice announced her presence when she pranced her way back to the table with her prizes. Beside her, Edge, Nox, Paps, and Blue—the more-active of the eight skeletons here—had bottles of booze and plenty of glasses balanced in their arms. From behind the group, you could spot the bartender watching with sweat on his brow at the precarious load the guys carried. You couldn’t say that you blamed him, but it did put you at ease to see the concern on the man’s face. It probably meant that damaged property wasn’t a common occurrence in this place. That was a good sign.

Some of your nerves settled at that thought.

“I FIND IT AMUSING THAT YOU LIKE COFFEE-FLAVORED LIQUOR, PET” Nox piped up with a sharp grin on his skull when he set down a whole bottle of Kahlua’s coffee liqueur onto the table in front of you. You turned to s/n and gave them a look.

“What? He asked what you liked, and I told him. Would do you good to loosen up a bit tonight, kiddo,” they taunted with a sly grin of their own.

Your cheeks heated up at the embarrassing nickname they’d given you for your height difference despite being the eldest.

“having a small problem there, kiddo?” Sans snickered beside you, his finger bones stilling on your leg beneath the table. You tried to poke his hand off you, but it wouldn’t budge.

“well, ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” Stretch chastised in a good-natured way from the booth seat next to Red. His top half laid sprawled on the table, and he looked half-asleep. If it wasn’t for his white eye lights peeking through the cracks of his sockets, you’d have assumed he was.

Your hand started tugging at the bandages over your left eye. Sans’ fingers curled around your wrist much like Ash’s would, stopping your nervous habit in its tracks. You didn’t even acknowledge him when he did so, your good eye staying trained on a group of guys a couple of tables away from you and your group. They weren’t being obvious about it, but you could see the way they kept glancing over every now and then, their eyes flashing with something you knew quite well.

You could feel the danger in the air grow with every second that passed, your muscles tightening every instance you caught their gazes on your sibling, Alice, or yourself. You forced yourself to calm down, however, trying not to stare at the human males. More times than not, that would just encourage them...

“Oh! It’s karaoke night! That sounds fun, right?” Alice squealed, her delighted gaze sweeping over the table of monsters and humans. All eyes drifted to you and you had to wave off the concern, cheeks burning at the unwanted attention. You didn’t mind listening to them sing. Being unable to speak at least got you out of having to go up stage and do it yourself, so this was a perk in your books. “Oh, right...um...”

“Go. Have fun,” you signed at her, Blue and Paps translating for you when she looked confused. Her smile returned and she bounced off to the stage where the crew was setting up the equipment. She was certainly in her element. Your gaze went to the young men you were keeping a watch on, eyeing how they ogled your neighbor as she went. From the corner of your vision, you took note of Blue, Paps, and even Stretch trailing after. You let out a breath of relief, glad that the unsavory men had yet to make a move and that those three had went to accompany the girl. Though you had a feeling Stretch did so to keep close to his older brother.

“Drink and calm down,” s/n ordered from beside you, shoving a glass full of your coffee liquor into your hands. You’d been so engrossed in your survey of your surroundings that you hadn’t even noticed them pouring you a glass. Trying your best to shake off the discomfort, you started to sip at the surprisingly chilled alcohol. How it was cold was beyond you since you could have sworn that the barkeep had all the bottles of his inventory out on display behind him, but you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. The bite of alcohol in your mouth was evened out by the smooth coffee flavor. You were not a drinker by any means, but your sibling had a point. Taking a night to enjoy yourself was a good idea.

“you going to get up on stage, sweetness?” Rus asked s/n from their other side. They hummed a “nah”, clarifying that they were not interested in singing in public. They continued to talk about random things, Edge and the others interjecting every now and then. You were content to just sit back and savor your drink, relaxing further into the cushioned seat when it became clear that no one was going to approach your table while the guys were here.

“WE WILL SURELY WIN!” Edge announced out of the blue, startling you from your content state.

Perking up in your seat, you watched as he and Nox bickered back and forth about some competition they had abruptly decided on. Their brothers were beside them, both fidgeting in place and sweating bullets but keeping up their guard dog appearances.

“AS IF! WE WILL!” Nox snapped back, the cocky grin slipping onto his face displaying all the confidence in the world.

“What’s going on?” you asked your sibling after getting their attention.

“They’re going to have a karaoke competition, apparently,” s/n explained with an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “There’s some kind of prize with a pasta dish, but I’m not sure?”

“Oooookay...” you mouthed, not sure what was going on but more than willing to sit back and watch this show play out.

You, s/n, and Sans watched as your friends and family each had their turn at the mic. You clapped when you could, s/n cheering from their spot, while Sans waved, clapped, and cheered when his brother took the stage. The alcohol was starting to make you overheated, but Sans was right beside you to prevent you from shrugging off your pullover. He may have caught a flash of skin to realize that you didn’t have any clothing on beneath the hoodie...

“this is nudes to me,” Sans grinned, sweat pouring down his skull which you found fascinating. You weren’t drunk, but you were feeling a little lightheaded. “didn’t realize you were a tease when you drank, kiddo.” His eye lights were large and fuzzy just like this morning, but it looked like they kept shifting as if trying to form different shapes rather than the circles they were now. It reminded you of when Blue’s would slip into those pretty blue stars...

“I’m hot,” you defended, the heat in your cheeks helping clarify that fact. You could’ve sworn you heard him grunt an agreement, but his voice was so soft that you weren’t certain.

“Eep! Hey!” Alice’s voice cut through the normal bustle of the tavern, drawing your attention to where she stood on the complete opposite side of the building. Every skeleton was there with her, but no one seemed to know what was going on if the confused expressions on their skulls were anything to go by.

Sans let out a sigh, giving the hand he still had a hold of a gentle squeeze before telling you he’d be right back. He then popped out of existence, reappearing beside Red who gave a slight jump at his sudden appearance. It was hard to tell from this distance, but it looked like Alice was chewing out a table of guys sitting beside the stage. To be fair, they also looked very confused and were openly staring at the infuriated young lady. You assumed the wet spot on the front of her skirt which hadn’t been there prior must have something to do with her ire...

Almost the second Sans had left to go see what had happened with Alice and the others, the trio at the table you’d been watching hopped to their feet and started to make their way over.

You were unable to speak or even growl at the men, but you were plenty capable of glaring at them. An uncomfortable warmth sprang into your chest, sparking a raging fire just beneath your ribcage but you didn’t care. Your single working eye narrowed at the obviously drunk youths as they sauntered closer to your booth. The imminent danger presented to your younger sibling had you disregarding the nervous glances coming from the monsters in the establishment in your direction. Your soul burned all the hotter when the drunkards stopped at your table, leaning heavily onto its wooden surface. Whether it was for support or “cool” points, you didn’t know nor did you care. One of your hands had a protective grip on s/n’s wrist while the other was tearing gashes into the pleather of your seat.

“Hey, you.” As he spoke, the stink of beer washed over the two of you, making your sibling crinkle their nose in disgust while you continued to give him a murderous glare. One that he either ignored or was too drunk to even notice. “Me and my buds saw ya two babes over here and we was wonderin’ if ya wanted to join someone who could give ya a real good time.” He smirked, white teeth flashing in the low light of the bar. S/n rolled their eyes while you struggled to not rip his throat out, but it was getting harder to control your instincts, especially with how close he was to your only family. You’d have to crawl over the table to get to him while s/n was right next to the opening that he blocked.

You’ve moved quicker with greater distance than this...

Your muscles tightened further, like a spring ready to snap. Your gaze steady on him rather than his two friends who were giggling like drunk sorority sisters behind him. Your eye darkened when he leaned in closer, his blue eyes flicking between you both but not really seeing how much danger he was putting himself in by doing so.

“Not interested,” was s/n’s short but firm reply. For a moment, the guy looked shocked and confused. Probably not used to being rejected, judging by how “socially-acceptable” his looks were. Then there was a flash of something you were quick to latch onto because you noticed it was a warning sign.

Before anything terrible could happen, Sans, Red, and Rus blipped into existence between you, your sibling, and your new “friends”. Sans had a hold of you since you were suddenly out of the booth and inches away from the idiotic male when he stumbled back. Had Red and Rus not yanked the dude off when they had, he’d have an iron grip on his jugular courtesy of you and your fast reflexes. Your expression was dark and your eye wild. You’d seen that hand of his heading for your sibling’s face...

“whoops. looks like you fell flat with that one, man,” Rus jeered, his expression harder than you’d ever seen it. Red mirrored him, his golden tooth glinting in the dim fluorescents.

By this point, Nox had joined Sans in restraining you. It wasn’t obvious, but you were still quite tense and struggling to regain control of your emotions. The only thing that was stopping you from fighting off your friends and going for the guy’s throat was that he hadn’t managed to touch your younger sibling. The facts that you still had a buzz from the alcohol and was tired to boot helped.

“Y/N?” Blue finally joined the fray, his brother right behind him. While Stretch kept his glare on the three drunk humans who looked ready to throw down for being dragged through the verbal mud by Red and Rus, his older brother kept his focus on you. “Are You Okay?” he asked, his blue eye lights dropping down to your chest before glancing back to your eye. His brow bones creased in concern.

With your bone friends back beside you, you started to feel the heat in your chest ebb away. It did so slowly, but at least it did. Unfortunately, it left behind an ache that you knew wouldn’t be leaving any time soon...

“Sorry,” you sign once you get your hands back, gaze dropping to the floor once the trio of drunks were tossed out of the bar by the barkeep. Guess they were looking for an excuse to get rid of them with how quickly they’d taken care of the situation. Frankly, you were surprised by how friendly the employees and patrons were being to your little group. You’d half expected to get thrown out yourselves since you personally knew how racist some humans could be. Looks like you all managed to find a little diamond in the rough here.

“what do ya gotta apologize for, sweetcheeks?” Red asked, pulling your face up to meet his. “ya didn’t do anything. those assholes should be begging for your forgiveness.”

“i’m with him,” Rus nodded his head at Red, more relaxed now that the threat was out of the vicinity although he remained on alert. You could see both of their eyes scanning the area for any further problems.

“Never Felt An Aura Quite Like That Before,” Nox mumbled beside you, one of his gloved hands petting the top of your head like a dog. Oddly, you didn’t find yourself all that bothered by it. “Especially Coming From A Human.” His eye lights drifted to you. You just gave him a curious look, not sure of what he was going on about.

“Hey, you guys okay?” Alice came rushing over from wherever she had disappeared to. You’d lost track of her with the whole ordeal of those idiots approaching your table. “Something happen? I saw some guys being thrown out when I came out of the bathroom...”

Well, that answers the question of her whereabouts.

“yeah, doll, everything’s just peachy,” Red reassured, hooking an arm around the girl’s neck before heading towards the door. You could smell Alice’s peach schnapps from here. “we should leaf now, though. i’m board to death in this place.”

Everyone else was in silent agreement. Rus would have copied Red’s actions with s/n as his recipient if s/n hadn’t cuddled into your side and grabbed your hand like the little kid they used to be. You could feel their telltale trembles from what had nearly occurred, something that triggered your protective instincts all the more. You lead them out the door, keeping a watchful eye out alongside your skeletal comrades while trying your best to comfort your younger sibling with whatever gestures, hugs, and hand-holding that you could.

The trip home passed in silence. You, s/n, Rus, Edge, Nox, and Red all piled into Edge’s fancy, black car; while Alice, Stretch, Blue, Paps, and Sans went into Paps’ pretty, red convertible. S/n curled into you in the middle of the backseat, Red on your side while Rus was on s/n’s. Nox and Edge sat up front, one or the other glancing back every now and again to make certain the humans were still alive. None of them had seen the younger of the two look so shaken or vulnerable before; and you weren’t sure yourself about the whole ordeal. While you certainly had your demons to deal with, you were more concerned for those of s/n. Clearly, it was time to look up the therapist that they’d insisted that they didn’t need...

You were close to falling asleep by the time the car pulled into your neighbors’ driveway, your fingers pulling through your sibling’s hair in a soothing manner. Red tapped your shoulder, pulling you slightly back. When he saw how easily you followed his movements, he dragged you the rest of the way out his open side. You watched as Rus did the same with s/n who’d fallen asleep due to your ministrations. Instead of feeling that instinctual fear clawing its way out of your chest, you felt a soothing warmth settle there. You curled into Red’s arms when he picked you up in a princess carry. He hadn’t even bothered to let you try to stand and walk on your own.

“they fell asleep?” a voice you recognized but couldn’t put a name to thanks to the haze in your head asked the one who carried you.

“well, s/n did. sweetheart’s still semi-conscious.”

“They Can Stay Overnight, Can’t They?” someone who was usually-loud spoke as softly as they could. You appreciated their attempts.

“heh. yeah, sure... alice already went home, so...”

You stopped listening by this point, your mind drifting in and out of consciousness. Your limbs felt like lead and sleep dragged your thoughts down into its murky depths...

.

.

.

...and yet...

You awoke with a start, your breathing fast and your chest burning. Fear of something clawed at your mind, but you couldn’t remember what it was that you were running from. Your eye flashed here and there in the dark, seeing nothing but blackness pressing in on all sides. Swallowing your panic, you waited, straining your eyelids to make sure they were open. After what felt like an eternity, your vision adjusted to the dark. You could make out the familiar shapes of furniture that you’d find in a bedroom. The problem was: it wasn’t your bedroom...

“hey, kiddo,” a voice you recognized as Sans’ breathed in your ear. You felt your muscles tense before relaxing at his presence. “you can’t sleep, either? wanna join me for an interstellar time?”

You cocked your head at what you guessed was a pun, but you didn’t understand what it was supposed to mean. You just nodded, reaching up to grab his boney hand when he offered it to you. You didn’t even get the chance to ask how he knew that you’d been woken by a nightmare before the darkness of what you assumed was his bedroom fell away.

You suddenly found yourself on the roof, Sans holding your hand tightly. You still had the blanket you’d awoken in wrapped around you, but instead of a mattress, you were sitting on roof shingles. The skeleton settled down beside you as your eye drifted over to what you knew was your house. You could even see the glimmer of moonlight bouncing off the trowel you’d forgotten to put away that afternoon.

“pisces for your thoughts?” he started off with a pun, waving a hand up at the stars despite the constellation he named not being visible at this time of year.

You bit your lip, fingers twitching in his hold when your eye began to itch uncomfortably. You took a calming breath, fighting the urge to pick at your healing wounds. Slipping your hand from his warm bones, you did your best to respond. Being honest about everything would be beneficial for your sibling, if nothing else. Besides, it wasn’t like you’d done yourself any favors at the bar that night...

“Nightmare,” you made the motions with your hands, careful to not make an error.

“sounds sirius,” came Sans’ simple response, though the bone between his eyes creased and the lights in his skull tightened when they gave you their undivided attention. You waited a moment, but when he said no more, you continued.

“You know about the knife?" you signed, motioning to your dead eye. At his nod, you took a deep breath and continued. "It wasn't a kitchen A-C-C-I-D-E-N-T. S/n and I were attacked in an alley for being monster A-L-L-I-E-S. I got these," you pointed at your eye and then passed a hand down your chest, stomach, and hip to the long scar hidden beneath your clothes. "so s/n wouldn't get hurt." The story tumbled out of you. It was probably something that Sans had already guessed had happened, but he just didn't know the details.

“what about your family?” Sans asked but the frown on his face told you that he’d already guessed what your answer would be.

“D-I-S-O-W-N-E-D me,” you signed, a heavy sadness weighing on your heart. It had hit you like a ton of bricks when you’d caught on to the reason why your family and friends hadn’t bothered to visit you in the hospital. The doctors and nurses were friendly enough, but even they hadn’t been too keen on sticking around for longer than necessary to perform their duties. Only the very few monsters that had managed to garner a foothold in that closed-off community had ever shown you any sort of empathy. The officer in charge of your case had been a feline monster. She had been very kind and considerate of your situation. She’d gone so far as to get you in touch with a friend of hers on the other side of the country to help you out. She was the reason why you were even in this city in the first place.

“they cut you out...because you protected your sibling?” Disbelief was thick in his voice. You flinched at the tone but didn’t dare look up. You didn’t want to see whatever expression was on his skull.

“Yes and no.”

It wasn’t that simple. You had defended s/n, yes, but the way you protected them was what caused the fear in your family. Even you didn’t fully understand it, but it was something that wasn’t in line with humanity. That alone was enough to unsettle your rather racist family. While not violent towards the monsters, they did look down upon them. It was not a sentiment either you or your sibling shared. You had both called them out on their prejudices multiple times since the monsters had freed themselves from their underground prison. Unfortunately, it hadn’t changed their behavior and had just created further strain on your relationship.

“They hate you,” you indicated at him to try and get him to understand, unwilling to divulge information that you didn’t understand yourself. It pained you to say it. Tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes—even the dead one—at the admission that you came from such vile people. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Sans pulled you into his arms and held you close. Your chest ached and you clung to the front of his hoodie, trying to ignore the hurt.

“they hate monsters, and you don’t,” he stated. It wasn’t a question, just a matter of fact, but you nodded against his collarbone anyway. He sighed, his breath fluttering the strands of hair covering your bad eye. “their loss. i happen to think you’re out of this world.”

You gave a silent chuckle at this, which only provoked an onslaught of astrology puns to come tumbling out of his teeth. It didn’t take long before your high-strung emotions had been laughed out and your body was sagging against him.

“stars, kitten,” Sans breathed into your hair when he was certain that you were too far gone to hear his words. “you’re making this harder than it needs to be.” He pulled back just enough to press his teeth against your forehead, nuzzling a skeleton kiss against your soft skin. He then spoke something he’d never thought he’d do again in his lifetime since escaping the Underground...

“i won’t let you get hurt again, kitten...i promise.”

[nyaagolor]

As the one who sent that ask, I was specifically referring to the Nemona werewolf AU so I was so happy to see your reply about it!!! But both are SO good. Do you have any thoughts about the rest of the Scarvio kiddos finding out about werelycanroc Nemona? I’m curious how they react

YESSSS LFG. So when I started the AU it was mostly just bc I thought the concept was cool but the more I did with it the more it kinda became a metaphor? So honestly I see the other characters' reactions as a part of that metaphor

Protagonist: They take it in stride, naturally. They've always been able to handle Nemona at her most intense, plus they just watched their best friend's dad's robot clone go into a time machine, so a werewolf is nothing. Nemona actually tells the protagonist about it herself because she trusts them so deeply, and the protagonist is pretty unfazed. In the end, it actually makes everything more bearable because Nemona doesn't have to hide anything or bottle things up, both of which would otherwise make the transformation more intense and dangerous. Oftentimes the protagonist will follow Nemona around on the 'raidon during full moons to make sure she doesn't get herself into trouble

Arven: Unlike the protagonist, Arven finds out about the whole werewolf thing on accident. Actual event still pending, I didn't think that far ahead. He's been through a lot and this is just another headache to deal with, so he reacts pretty badly initially. Arven has a lot of preconceptions about Nemona and what she's like, but seeing this makes me him realize how long he's been jealous of a person he made up-- the real Nemona has so much more depth than the imagined version of her in his head. It gets him to reflect about the nature of their relationship and they end up better friends at the end of it because it's the catalyst for them understanding each other better. He's initially overwhelmed

Penny: She was always wary of Nemona, since she seemed so perfect and accomplished and in the same social status as a lot of her bullies. Finding out Nemona was a werewolf ironically improved their relationship significantly because it was a huge tell of how repressed she really was, and Team Star is like the ultimate enabler of being ur authentic self. You've never seen someone get adopted into a friend group so fast. Also Penny thinks it's kinda like this anime she's really into so that's a bonus

[slfshdsr]

Today, I was acknowledged and validated more than ever before. A 13-year old boy, we’ll call Joe, is detached from others and careless about what they others think, but his eyes see intent and his heart feels inspiration. To preface what I do: I am a one-on-one aide for another student the same age as Joe, we’ll call Alex. Alex is a middle-schooler with autism and intense emotional-behavioral difficulties. Without going into detail, he has made serious progress with being aware of his actions and emotions, since I began working with him. When I started, he didn’t have friends, so I adopted a few kiddos and made them friends of my own so he could see what friendship looks like. Now, he has people he can trust, and they have great connection with.

Joe used to be a friend of Alex’s, until Alex had a few major emotional outbursts that caused intense, dangerous behaviors that put himself and others in danger. Joe was never as close as he was to Alex after that day, but has slowly integrated himself to rekindle their friendship. Today, when Alex was away, Joe approached me with a serious look on his face counteracted by a kind smile. Suspiciously, I asked, “What’s up?”

To which he responded, “Nothing much,” as he swayed back and forth rather nervously. “But I did want to say thank you.” This caught me off guard, so I I had to ask what there was to thank me for. “The way you’ve worked with Alex has helped him and the people around him so much. You can really see a difference in him on so many levels. So, thank you, really.”

Catching me more off guard than before, he had me stunned to silence. But, I quickly realized my awkward silence and replied with a grateful, “Thank you, buddy, I appreciate that. And you’re welcome, I guess. But it’s really Alex that’s doing all the work.”

“Well yeah,” he quickly agreed while raising his hands and shoulders to almost say how obvious my statement was. “But without you, things would still be so different and intense. There’s something you do to the environment and people around that makes everything feel better.”

Again, stunned to silence. “I appreciate you, Joe,” I eventually said while feeling nervous appreciation. “I really can’t thank you enough for that.”

I’ve been validated as a friend by my friends themselves, friends of my friends, or by adults around us. But, I’ve never been validated for being a friend, role model, and mentor to the kids I work with. After spending all my energy to help him, I’ve lost energy to help take care of myself. Knowing that this energy has been recognized as doing good makes me feel more restored than I ever thought possible.

Giving children a voice to use, attention and respect to listen, and space to feel completely comfortable and accepted ignites something inside them that is truly beautiful to see. They’re still growing and learning, so to see this at such a young age has me stunned to silence, still. But, it emphasize the fact that if we just allow kids to be themselves while providing comfort and joy, they will become the best version of themselves possible. Trust me, I’ve seen it.

[depravity-n-savagery]

「 Inside The Black 」 Part 2

Part 1

☾ Pairing: Billy Hargrove x (Fem)Reader

☾ Summary: Flayed!Billy attempts to bring you to the Mind Flayer, but is stopped by non other than our favorite group of danger prone kiddos.

☾ CW: LOTS of violence (and it gets pretty descriptive), angst, choking, lewd memories, is tragic fluff a thing? I'm making it a thing, regular fluff, crying, if I miss anything let me know ♡

🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑

☾ Word Count: 2.9k

☾ A/N: It's finally here! I didn't expect so many people to actually want a part two. ♡ I promised Reader & Billy would be saved... I never said it was gonna be easy. 😏 Enjoy! ~ ✨️

Your subconscious was a lot darker than you expected. At first it was a haze of dreamy events - some that have happened in the past, and some that you've fantasized. Faded out in sepia tint like an old photograph. A happy couple, far away from the hidden turmoil of mind controlling monsters and lab experiments. It was pleasant while it lasted. So pleasant, you were willing to accept this as the afterlife.

Then it all went black. Empty. Not a sound or anything around aside from a sort of watery liquid covering the 'floor' in a thin layer. That was where you sat, naked, rocking with your knees tucked to your chest.

"Y/N?"

The voice was so soft and feminine, clouded with concern. Your head shot up, turning to look for where it was coming from. To your right, slowly approaching you was a young girl. Familiar. A face you faintly remember seeing alongside Billy's little sister when she hung around at the mall. What was she doing here?

Slowly, step by step, she made her way closer to you. She wouldn't speak again until she was an arm's length away, trying not to look directly at you in your birthday suit. "Can you- can you hear me?"

"More than that, kid. I can see you." Flames licked at the inside of your throat, hoarse from the events you tried to deny. Billy… or something in Billy's body.. strangled you. A sob choked its way up to your lips. "Am I dead?"

She shook her head, kneeling down beside you. "We saw you. Saw when Billy…" The girl raised her hands to her throat, cringing while she demonstrated a squeezing motion. We? An endless stream of questions swirled around in your head, waiting for you to vomit them out. Like, how the hell is she here? Wherever here was. How did she see what happened? How much did she see?? Questions that would go unanswered for the moment. "Not much time. Billy is taking you to the pool. When you see Max, follow her. Run."

"Wait!" You yelled. Your arm shot out to reach for her, grasping onto nothing as her form vanished into swirling smoke. Within seconds you began to do the same. Watching in horror as your hands dispersed into smokey particles. The space around felt distant and floaty until-

Thud!

The world around you tilts and jolts. Five heavy footsteps later a latch opens, bathing you in moonlight and humid summer air. Billy's stern face stared down into your eyes. "Sorry to cut your nap short, sweetheart." There was so much spite and disdain in his tone, it nearly broke you. To put it honestly, he was no saint. There have been plenty of heated words thrown your way during a disagreement. Still, there were lines he refused to cross. Things even he wouldn't say/do. Attempting to kill you, for an example.

Surprisingly you weren't bound by anything. No ropes, no cuffs, nothing of the sort. The only thing on you was the blanket from your bedroom, haphazardly wrapped around your naked form. It made sense. You didn't feel like much of a threat at the moment. Just weak and sore in some very embarrassing places, given the situation. He fucked you into oblivion, and now you had to wonder if that was also a part of weakening you.

"Where am I?" You croaked, barely above a whisper. Your only response was being grabbed by the throat and lifted out of the trunk of his car. No air left in you to cry out from the pain - white hot and unbearably intense. His fingers squeezed and dug into the bruised skin, only relenting when tears sprung up in the corners of your eyes.

"No more questions. I'm just here to pick up the little shit." The trunk was slammed shut, making you flinch and pull the blanket up to cover your dignity. You didn't want it - whatever it was inside him - to see you like this.

The encounter in your mind lingered, seeming like a dream. Was that girl really there? Everything she said so far was true. As Billy pulled you along by your arm, you recognized the entrance to the community pool where he worked. His steel grip was sure to cause another bruise, the way he yanked you so hard you could hardly keep the blanket snug around you.

The place looked closed down for the day. Dark and void of any human life. Until you catch a peek of red hair, sticking out from the entrance to the showers.

"When you see Max, follow her. Run."

Fuck it. Only thing left to lose was your life, and you had already avoided death once tonight. So you took the chance. Springing up the remaining bits of energy in your body, you brought your face down to the hand he had wrapped around your forearm and bit it. You bite him. Sinking your teeth into the flesh like it was your last meal. It didn't appear to hurt him as much as it caught him off guard. All the same, he ripped his arm away and set you free with a hiss. "Bitch!"

You don't stick around to find out how he'd retaliate. Bare feet sore from landing repeatedly on the harsh concrete, but you didn't slow. Only pure adrenaline propelled you forward, still clutching that damn blanket to your chest. The showers, get to the showers. It was all so dark, but you found your way. Choosing to tune out the distant pattering of Billy's steps chasing after you. He was far enough for you to be hidden by the darkness.

"Pssst! Y/N!" Someone whispered from deep into the area, beyond where the shower stalls ended. That long red hair was impossible to miss. The child you had only interacted with in passing was now your saving grace. Rounding that corner, you found more than what you expected. Less than what you hoped. Max wasn't standing with a police officer, or even a goddamn priest. It was just her ragtag group of friends. A bunch of kids. Including the one that approached you in that dark place.

"Oh my god, she's naked." One of them gasped, speaking with a slight lisp. Max thwacked him on the arm, furrowing her brows at him before taking your wrist in her hand. Thankfully a lot more gentle than her brother. "Come on, he'll be here any second now. I'll fill you in along the way." As if there was any way you'd retain this information in the midst of all this.

If they had told you something like this any day before today, you would've laughed it off. Maybe chucked it up to being a part of that D&D game the kids played - although Max wasn't really interested in it. It all seemed like something out of a Stephen King novel. To 'dumb it down for you' she only explained that your boyfriend was being possesed, mind controlled by a smokey spider monster from an Upside Down dimension. A spider monster that was expelled from their friend Will's body by extreme heat exposure, like a fiery exorcism. Simple. Reeeal simple.

The redhead peeled the creaky door open, guiding you into a sauna that was about the size of a walk-in closet. "Just keep him in here as long as you can. We don't know if it might've gotten into you too, so uh… we need you to get in too. Precautions and all that. Besides, he-" She looked away, shoving some sort of emotion down that you couldn't place. "-he cares about you. If anyone could help, it'd be you."

"Incoming!" The young boy who commented on your lack of clothing whispered, stepping back into the shadows with the others. You nodded and stepped into the sauna, bracing yourself. If this could work… if there was a way to get your Billy back, it was worth it.

Billy came barreling around the corner, stomping so hard it echoed throughout the room. His eyes searched the darkness until he found you, hugging yourself and trembling. A feline approaching a mouse in a trap. He strutted toward you, basking in the terror that filled your eyes the closer he got. The door swung open as he caught up to you, staring you down with a look that could devour you. Just what the monster wants.

A loud bang bounced off the walls of the enclosed space, ringing in your ears. Billy was even forced to stumble forward, almost falling into you as the door slammed behind him. That girl. The one from the darkness in your mind. She stood in view of the small window, holding up her right hand towards the door. Her left hand reached back toward the showers, straining and knitting her eyebrows until a metallic snap was heard. A metal rod flew in her direction, navigated by her movements to wedge itself into the sauna's door handle and under the pipe beside it.

For a second or two, he seemed calm. Maybe a little confused, and it lit a small bit of hope in you. That even for a second you might get a glimpse of your Billy. The heat started to seep in and immediately his first reaction was to turn and bang on the door. Pressing his face into the window, already beginning to bead with sweat. "Let me out!! Max, open this fucking door!" He screamed until he sounded hoarse, throwing himself around every surface in a blind rage. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME IN HEAR!!!"

You reminded him of your presence, risking yourself with a shaky whisper. "Billy… Billy, calm down."

His head whipped over his shoulder, looking like he genuinely forgot you were in the room. "Y/n?" What was first said as a question, repeated as a confirmation. "Y/n.. What did I do? WhatdidIdo-" His knees met the tiled floor, collapsing at your bare feet. A peek into the light, where the crushing guilt was waiting to hit him like a ton of bricks.

My Billy. Kneeling beside him, still cautious, you outstretched your hand for him to hold. How do you comfort someone in a moment like this? He wasn't all there yet - that thing was still inside him - but he has floated to the surface. Breaking down into heaving sobs that had his whole body trembling. "I didn't mean it, Y/n. I didn't wanna do it! I couldn't stop-"

"I know, baby. I know." Caution could wait. You wrapped your arm around him, palming the back of his sweat-soaked hair to bring your foreheads together. His skin was clammy and glistening under the orange-tinted overhead lights. The other hand was still holding the blanket, that was honestly heating you up more than the steam. "I'm here.. I love you. I didn't get to say it back, but I love you Billy. Stay with me."

Whatever clarity Billy was allowed for the time being, he cherished it - and loathed it at the same time. His actions. The one person he had already doomed to the Mind Flayer's sacrificial conquest, before he wound up at your window. The pain he inflicted on you. Stripped away and vulnerable, exposing what he always felt like on the inside. A babbling, crying, wounded child waiting for mommy to save him.

The air was suffocating, steadily rising in temperature. He's not going to like this. He sniffled, reducing his sobs to a hiccup. "You have to get out of here."

You shook your head, still holding onto his shoulder but putting a little distance between you, just to look at his face. The action of wiping away the tears raining from those precious blues, so familiar that it's muscle memory. Your hand rested there, at his cheek, stroking small circles. "I'm not going anywhere. If it gets me, then it gets me."

So be it.

Billy folded into himself, writhing and letting out a gut-wrenching scream. Shades of black inked into his veins, spreading over his body. It's working! Either that thing was getting ready to come out, or you had just seriously pissed it off. Probably both. He thrashed around, punching into the floor so hard that bits of tile broke off in splinters.

"Turn it up!" Max's voice commanded from the other side of the door. Her hand pressed to the glass, peering in at her brother. His knuckles were bloodied and raw. Hair disheveled, and black liquid staining the corner of his mouth. She gasped, unable to tear herself away from the sight.

Unfortunately, it likes an audience.

In your eyes, it all happened in slow motion. Seeing him stand there with his body facing the door. You couldn't see it dead on, but you caught it in the fog-resistant window's reflection. A sickening grin spreading across his face, before he captured your throat in his hand. It wanted Max and her friends to watch. Make the choice to watch you die, or interfere and ultimately set him free. Maybe this was meant to be.

You escaped it once. Maybe twice was asking too much.

Your feet lifted off the ground, toes curling and searching for a surface to stand on. All the while, he wouldn't even look at you. He looked at them. Raising a brow as you began to choke and whine. The blanket finally fell free from your body, taking a backseat to your frenzied flailing. To hell with modesty!

You would dig your nails into his arm until they chipped and bled. To no avail. You would kick at his side, and whatever part of him you could reach. Still to no avail. The battery was depleting, and somewhere - beyond the pounding rhythm of your heart - you heard your name. It sounded like home. It sounded like the rumble of your boyfriend's car. It sounded like his laugh, and the way he sighed when he wraps his arms around you after a long day. It was warm, welcoming and white.

"Do something! He's killing her!"

"No! Look at him!"

So you did just that. Hoping to at least die with the vision of him as your last. The lights flickered, but you could see him through the strobes. Head thrown back with an animalistic roar. The thing, a mixture of black ooze and particles forced its way out through Billy's mouth.

The window shattered, allowing the creature to exit the sauna and escape into the night. Leaving you both spent, and hitting the tile in unison. Red blotches discolored your vision as you still tried to get a look at him - the result of a burst blood vessel.

"Hold on, Y/n! Help is-"

We did it… You could die happy with that thought alone.

◇ - ☆ - ◇ - ☆ - ◇ - ☆ - ◇ - ☆ - ◇

Beep… beep… beep…

The world lit up beyond your eyelids, making you squint and turn away from the source. Everything ached. Not as much as you thought it would, but the annoying prick you felt in the crook of your arm might have something to do with that. You've been hooked up to IV's enough to recognize the feeling.

"Billy?" Your lips moved, but not much came out. A delicate squeak at the most.

"Easy, darlin'. Don't strain yourself."

The sound was unmistakable, but you had to see for yourself. You opened your eyes, thankful that your eyesight had been spared. Nothing could have been more rewarding than seeing this man smiling at you again. A weak smile with a busted lip, but you were still more than willing to kiss him again. And again. And again.

He brought his hand up to your face, meaning to stroke your cheek but he pulled back. Not before you could notice the bandages wrapped around it. It was the blink of an eye for you, but for Billy it had been three days. Three days of being bothered by scientists, signing nondisclosure agreements, lying to everyone (outside of those in the know) about what happened, and watching his stepmother mourn the death of his father - the one person he successfully gave to the Mind Flayer.

All those things were nothing compared to watching you lay in that hospital bed. Listening to the doctors list off every way he damaged you. Ankle fractures, damage to the windpipe, mild concussion, a burst blood vessel in the left eye, various cuts and bruises… It made sense, telling everyone that the two of you got into a terrible car crash. He had to sacrifice his precious car to make it believable. Still, that wasn't enough punishment. Now he has to face you, and see you giving him that loving smile. Beaming at him like he was your favorite person in the world. He was. That's what made it hurt.

"I did this…" He said, afraid to even touch you in case he managed to somehow fuck up the machine you were hooked up to. "I-"

You shook your head, crooking your bandaged fingertip to call his attention. You didn't need him to hear you. Just watch as you mouthed the words 'I love you', sealing it with a blown kiss in his direction.

We can survive this.

Billy took your hand, carefully locking your fingers with his. Ignoring the small pain it caused him. He may not deserve you right now, but if you let him, he would spend everyday making it up to you. Maybe it took almost losing you to see how much you meant to him.

"I love you too."

♡

☾ A/N: Part 2 has been delivered! My emo playlist got a reeeal workout while I was writing this one. 🤣 Comments and reblogs are always welcome. Feel free to drop some ideas in my Ask. ♡

Ao3, Masterlist ☆

Taglist: @and-claudia @eddieussy @amialesbianorindenial @gracethieved @loadivine @robunny127 @simpforcarlislecullen @dilf-loverxo @rosemarycupcake42

[thecraftymagician]

Lucio as a Parent

Like most things in his life, Lucio will try to act as calm and confident as he possibly can. If you're having a baby the old fashioned way I can absolutely see him fainting. It's not that he doesn't want kids he just.. never really thought too much into it or just assumed if it did happen that well, what happens will happen. Basically, he doesn't know what to do but he is very happy.

If you adopt or anything else, he'll definitely be more prepared but even then won't know everything. He really does want to pay attention but it gets confusing and this man hates feeling stupid.

Baby proofing? What's that? No, the baby must see all of dad's swords and his arm and everything to know what an awesome family their apart of! ..He'll see your point and put most dangerous things high up out of reach but still visible.

As loud and boisterous as Lucio can be, he's so gentle with the baby. He refuses to do more than whisper yelling while holding them and loves holding them even just to pace around the palace halls/ house.

His biggest fear is being like his parents. The last thing he wants to do is be too intense of push his kid too far. Set up hopes that just can't be but at the same time will absolutely support and spoil them.

You have to negotiate what is okay and not in regards to random gifts and spoiling. If he had it his way their would be a party for every single achievement; first steps, first words, potty training, etc. He wants to celebrate everything but you try to keep it down to just some wine between the two of you.

You let him have birthday bashes though of course. They don't last nearly as long as his usual parties because bedtime and naps but there are ponies and every kind of kid friendly fruit juice in fountains. Not to mention the greatest smash cake ever!

As previously stated he doesn't know alot about babies or children besides how to be cool and impressive to them, it's very important you know. That doesn't mean he's incompetent though. Sometimes he'll surprise you with little things like expertly changing diapers, making sure food and milk are the right consistency and temperatures, etc. You later find out that Nadia had been buying him parenting books, even catching him reading them while rocking the baby when he thinks your asleep.

As soon as their able to stand up right and toddle along, he insists on walking with them every where. When they start running he's the only one fast enough to catch them.

Will of course rough house. Not to an alarming degree but you've seen the memes. Absolutely will hold them upside down like their the catch of the day at the docks and throw them up in the air. He catches them every single time.

If there are any injuries, even little scraps or weird things like baby hiccups he's screaming and pounding on Julian's door NOW. Luckily the little one doesn't seem to be nearly as needy as Lucio even with tears. It's funny because normally he'd find scars to be cool and a sign of a good fight but.. "They're too young for battle! They're too cute for scars!"

He loves playing especially pretend and dress up with the little bean. He'll commission a set of play wood swords sanded perfectly so there will be no splinters and teach them how to sword fight. Even fencing later on. Sometimes he'll insist everyone come over because the kiddo wants to play pirates or adventures. Of course the bean will be too cute and charming for anyone to resist.

He gets jealous when the kiddo becomes obsessed with anyone else. "Aunt Nadi is sooo pretty!" "Muri is so TALL!!" He will pout about it for a while. He's pretty and.. shut up.

Eventually he'll let them run around and play on their own, even if it makes him sad. He'll honestly cry a bit because he loves being their best friend and it's hard to watch them grow up.

This one was a bit thicker and I might've just repeated myself a bunch, I'm sorry.

[juletheghoul]

Dulcis (Part I)

This is my formal submission to The Pit™️ (so much filth)

This is going to be a two part series! It doesn't end here

(I know this might not be everyone's cup of tea since it is about infidelity. Reader is engaged and David is married. Please feel free to skip this if that doesn't interest you!)

Dave (Murder Daddy) York x F!Reader

Pairing: David York x F!Reader

Word Count: 12K (are we even surprised at this point)

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** NSFW 18+ INFIDELITY! (reader is engaged, David is married) language, Smut, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, **daddy kink** oral (m receiving / mentions of female receiving) vaginal fingering (in a public space), praise & aftercare, guilt?- let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist Part 2

---

“Alright who’s up first?” They all looked away from you, they always do this when they have to present their projects. It’s understandable, you could remember doing it when you were in school.

“If no one volunteers I’ll have to pick someone.” You smiled sympathetically. You saw a couple of your braver students raise their hands. Once the first student went the others saw that like always- it wasn’t so bad.

You managed to get through all of them before lunch which, as a second grade teacher, was a miracle.

They were a little rowdy during the lunch hour but that was to be expected. You used the much needed break to gather your things for the math work that had to be done after recess.

You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket and you checked your messages- there were two from your fiancé Charlie.

Can’t we just elope?

Hi by the way

You could have killed him, you sighed, smiling as you quickly responded to him.

No, hi! Don’t make me say I told you so while I’m at work, I take it your hunt for the tux isn’t going so well?

You had suggested eloping right when he’d proposed, a big wedding wasn’t something you needed. A trip to the courthouse and a nice dinner after would have been just fine with you.

It’s bullshit, lol I fucking hate shopping - I’ll figure it out, have a great day at work, love you xo

You quickly put your phone away at the commotion in class.

Two of the kids were arguing, it was getting intense and you had no idea what caused it.

“Okay you two settle down, finish your lunch - recess-“

One of the students suddenly punched the other square in the face. It was a practised, precise thing and it shocked you.

“Alice! We do not hit.” You didn’t yell it but you used a tone that silenced all the children. You quickly made your way over to them, Jacob was bleeding from the nose and you called the school nurse to come get him. Calling the principal after to let her know what happened.

“Alice, you’re staying inside during recess with me, that was unacceptable. I’m going to have to call your parents. You know we don’t fix things by fighting.” You spoke to her in a neutral tone, trying to keep the anger out.

“But he-“ you cut her off.

“No, none of that. We’ll discuss this with your parents.” You didn’t want to hear it, you looked through your desk for the contact sheet to call while the kids played outside. She sat at her desk quietly, watching you through sad eyes.

“Hi, I’m looking for David York? I’m Alice York’s teacher and I need to speak to him please.” The receptionist sounded wary, she asked for your name and the name of the school and you provided the information. You waited for him to pick up but the receptionist came back and informed you that Mr. York was currently away from his desk but that she would leave a message. Hopefully Mrs York would pick him.

“Hi is this Carol York? Hello Mrs York, yes I’m calling about Alice? Yes that’s right, no she’s fine there’s no emergency but I do have to ask you and your husband to come in for a meeting with me tonight. Well there’s been an incident…” You explained what happened and she was very apologetic, agreeing to come to see you right after work.

You quickly texted Charlie to let him know you’d be late.

******

Alice didn’t give you any more trouble for the rest of the day, Jacob had a bit of a bloody nose but overall he was okay.

The day went smoothly and as all of the children went home you had Alice sit and colour while you both waited for her parents. You didn’t have to wait long.

Your head lifted at the soft knock at your door, you saw an apologetic looking woman and her very bored looking husband.

“Hello, we’re so sorry! I’m Carol and this is my husband David, Alice come here and explain yourself.” She walked over to your desk to shake your hand. David followed reluctantly.

“What happened kiddo?” He asked her as she approached.

“Jacob took my notebook and wouldn’t give it back.” She looked at her mother ashamed.

“We don’t hit you know that! I’m so sorry about this - we’ll have a talk with her when we get home.” She sat at the chairs you gestured to - you noticed David’s face as Alice spoke. A sly smile, quickly wiped away to look stern. Was he proud of her?

You agreed with the need to stick up for yourself but taking a notebook was hardly a reason for two second graders to resort to a brawl. He saw you looking at him and he nodded sagely.

“We’re very sorry about this.” He wasn’t sorry.

You took him in as Carol spoke to Alice in hushed tones on her lap, he was an imposing man, tall and broad. He wore a suit and for all the world looked like a professional but there was something about him that made you blush. You had the vague sense that he was undressing you with his eyes and it made your heart race. He was very handsome, but in a sinister way.

“Never again right Alice?” You spoke to her before turning your attention to her parents. “She’ll have detention for the next two days, no recess, but I won’t keep her after school.” You spoke as neutrally as you could with Mr York's eyes boring into you. You could almost feel them burning you.

“Yes of course, that’s not a problem. We will talk about this when we get home, young lady.” Carol spoke half to you and half to her daughter. David continued to stare.

You were thankful this would be it and were just getting ready to guide them to the door when he spoke.

“How are her grades otherwise? Is she doing well?” He said it in a low tone.

You could learn to crave that voice.

Get a fucking grip

“They’re good, she’s a great student otherwise, got an A on her book report today. Just have to remember to keep our hands to ourselves right?” You smiled warmly at her, doing your best to not look him in the eye.

“That’s great to hear, thank you so much for reaching out - please feel free to contact me for anything.” Carol started gathering Alice’s things.

David continued to stare at you, you saw him boldly look you up and down as you walked around your desk to see them out. Carol was too busy getting Alice into her jacket to see him.

He looked at you like she wasn’t even there.

He smirked as he swiped his thumb across his bottom lip, his gaze focused on the length of your dress. Your eyes widened at the nerve of him, absolutely no regard for his wife or his daughter.

He was devouring you with his eyes and you did absolutely nothing to stop him. You flushed - whether from disgust or excitement you’d never know but it did not deter him. He clapped his hands together and thanked you for your time.

Your heart hammering even after they’d left.

**********

The music was blaring when you walked through the door to your little apartment. You could hear Charlie singing along as he pulled something that smelled absolutely divine out of the oven.

“Hey babe! I made dinner, I got home a bit early.” He kissed you hello as he put the lasagne on the table.

“Oh god that smells good.” You smiled as you all but dropped everything to sit and eat with him.

You both discussed how your respective days had gone, about what you both had to do and like almost every conversation you’d had during the past seven months- it ended up on the wedding. If you were honest the whole thing was starting to grate on your nerves.

You’d always known the two of you were going to get married. From the first time you saw him, he was so handsome and sweet and he seemed to live his life in order to make you happy. The wedding however, it seemed all wrong. The both of you were simple, you were the kind of people who didn’t make a big fuss.

This wedding was a big fuss.

“My mom says she’s paying for the flowers, I insisted that it wasn’t necessary, that it didn’t matter but she pushed- and you know my sister wants to help with something.” Charlie was notoriously easy going so you took his ‘insisting’ with a grain of salt.

“Your family would pay for the whole wedding if we let them.” You prodded gently, his family seemed to want this wedding more than you did. It was overwhelming.

“They just want grandchildren, they think the faster we get married the faster I’ll get you pregnant.” He laughed, you’d talked about children before and you both wanted them but you’d decided to wait a little bit. You both wanted to enjoy married life.

-

While showering after having cleaned up, your mind curiously wanders to a place you didn’t expect.

You were thinking about Mr York. You didn’t even really know why - yes he was handsome but it was more than that. He was intriguing, he seemed dangerous somehow.

That was surprising, why should he be dangerous? Charlie pulled back the curtain pulling you sharply out of your reverie, and scaring you half to death.

“Sorry!” He laughed as he got in with you. You felt guilty, like you’d been caught but he mistook your guilty look for fear.

“You scared the fuck out of me!” You tried to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest as you stepped into the water, rinsing the shampoo out of your hair.

You felt Charlie’s hands circle your waist as he laughed.

“Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to.” He kissed your shoulder as he joined you under the hot spray, his hands roaming over the soft skin of your belly. They slipped over your soapy skin, up towards your breasts. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his fingers as they pinched and plucked at your nipples the way he knew you liked.

He continued with his exploration, running one hand down under it, spreading your folds and honing in on your clit. Gliding over it over and over until you were panting, the other hand still on your breast. You closed your eyes as you leaned your head back onto his shoulder - your hands finding themselves in his hair.

“Faster- please” You were almost there, it was so good and the thought came to you out of nowhere. You imagine for a split second that it was Mr York in the shower with you instead of your fiancé. His fingers between your legs, his cock rubbing up against your ass and you came harder than you had any right to. Your fingers clutching at Charlie’s hair almost painfully tight.

He kissed your shoulder and turned you around to kiss you on the mouth to take it further but the guilt wouldn’t let you. You needed a few minutes to get your shit together.

“Babe, let’s wait until we’re in bed- I’m not really feeling shower sex right now.” You kissed him softly and pulled away.

“Okay honey.” He smiled at you, complacent even though his dick was hard and leaking precum, weirdly this annoyed you.

Charlie was a sexual guy, he enjoyed it. That you knew, and you couldn’t exactly complain about your sex life. He was attentive and he did his best to make you cum, he took direction well and you had no complaints about his size.

The problem was, Charlie was vanilla.

Sex was three positions if that and he barely talked at all. You had tried to get him to be a little more open and adventurous but he always reverted to his regular routine. Most of the time it was fine, you both got off and you loved him.

Sometimes however, you wanted more. You wanted excitement, you wanted passion. You wanted filth.

Charlie was sweet. You could live with sweet.

He was snoring beside you peacefully, he’d coaxed another orgasm out of you once you both got into bed. The guilt kept you awake though, because you’d imagined Mr York the whole time.

————————-

“I need all of the information you can find on this woman.” David gave your name to his contact, he had to know.

He asked Alice a few probing questions but didn’t want to push it. He didn’t need her telling her mother offhandedly that he’d been curious about you.

He had your name and place of employment, for his line of work - that was more than enough. You were a pretty thing and he was intrigued. He knew you’d seen him, he’d made sure of it. He’d also noticed you looking at him, as much as you tried not to. Saw the gorgeous flush creep it’s way up your neck when he stared at your legs.

He had to get close to you, see if his instincts were right.

He had a full report on you within the hour, he saw that you’d been teaching for about five years. That you were a few years younger than him, engaged, parents on the other side of the country, decent credit score.

All he had to figure out now was how to make his move.

————————

“Remember to show your parents your agendas! We have a trip coming up and I need everyone’s parents or guardians to sign the forms I put in them. Please do not forget. Have a great day and I’ll see you tomorrow.” The kids were frantically packing away their things as the bell wrung, you still watched them as you packed up your things. You had to remember to ask for volunteers in their agendas tomorrow- maybe you could call a few of the more friendlier parents.

A knock at the door made you jump what felt like a foot off the ground. Turning around and seeing who was there did absolutely nothing to calm you down.

“Mr York, what can I do for you?” You tried to speak as calmly as possible. Willing yourself to sound natural and nonchalant.

He walked over to you and it vaguely felt like you were being hunted. His quiet made you uneasy and your anxiety pushed you to fill the empty air with conversation.

“Everything okay with Mrs York? I hope Alice isn’t still in trouble?” He was in your personal space and it was difficult to breathe. He was so big, so tall, his eyes impossibly bright with what looked like mischief.

Never in all your time together has Charlie ever looked at you with this kind of intensity.

Annoyingly, it made you wet.

“They’re fine.” He licked his lips as he stared down at you, the bottom one was full and you had the wild urge to bite it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

You kept backing away from him slowly and he kept pressing forward, you didn’t know what to do or what he wanted but he was overwhelming you.

“I know you saw me looking at you.” He watched your mouth as he spoke and you felt like you couldn’t get your thoughts in order.

“I - I’m engaged…” You blurted it out but either he didn’t register or he didn’t care.

“And I’m married.” He got a little closer, there was a crackling of electricity between the two of you and the tingle of it seemed to be focused on your nipples and your clit. He brought his hand up and traced his thumb over your bottom lip boldly and the act shocked you into complacency, it grounded you on the spot. He saw the shock and excitement in your eyes and he probed a bit to see how far you would go.

“I thought about you. When I fucked her.”

You short circuited, your brain was a puddle and your cunt clenched. You involuntarily let out a gasp at his confession and it brought to mind the thoughts you’d had while with Charlie. You were dripping into your panties.

He pushed his thumb into your mouth a fraction and it was like a damn broke, without even knowing why or stopping to consider the consequences you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked. Hollowing out your cheeks prettily.

He groaned, bringing his thumb back out and spreading your saliva onto your lips.

He came close and you prepared yourself for a kiss but he licked your top lip, so fast you would have missed it. You gasped and he let go. Walking out the door as you caught your breath.

—————

The shame followed you like a shadow, it surrounded you as you drove home in silence.

Charlie’s face haunting you as you felt your arousal soaking your panties. You tried to justify the unjustifiable as you pulled into the parking garage of your building, telling yourself that it was a weird hallucination. You hadn’t actually sucked this man's thumb at the school like a whore. No.

Charlie was sitting on the couch going over the seating arrangement when you walked in. You dropped all of your things and walked over to him, you needed to rewrite your excitement somehow. Transfer it onto Charlie.

“Hey babe-“ you cut him off by plopping down onto his lap, and kissing him silent. He was momentarily stunned but he dropped everything and held onto you.

“You okay?” He asked smiling as he pulled away, you didn’t answer, you hastily pulled up his shirt - trying to get him to join you in your urgency.

“I want you, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me and I want to ride your cock, right here on the couch.” You lied into his ear, poisoned honey dripping from your mouth. You heard him gasp and felt him hardening beneath you.

“Jesus Christ…” Charlie wasn’t much of a dirty talk kind of guy, you wanted him to be but he always said it felt awkward. You usually didn’t push it but today Mr York’s words were branded into your brain.

“My pussy is so wet for you baby.” Another lie, but never mind that.

He groaned but didn’t say anything and it was frustrating, you needed the release however and you let it pass. You imagined Mr York saying some truly filthy things in your ear and it made you feel guilty but you couldn’t help yourself.

He let you work out your excitement and after you both hit your peak you got up and headed for the bedroom. You saw him sitting on the couch, half naked and blissed out as you walked away.

You prodded him gently when you were curled up in bed.

“Charlie, did you like what we did today? On the couch?” You wanted to ease into it.

“Yes, we’ve had sex on the couch before, I always enjoy it with you.” He kissed your forehead.

“Did you like the things I said?” You drew little patterns on his chest as you laid in the dark.

“They were pretty intense, I didn’t not like them?” You could almost feel him blushing, you tried hard not to sigh. You were going to spend the rest of your lives together there was no need to be shy.

“Why don’t you ever talk to me like that when we fuck?” You could feel him trying to retreat but you didn’t want to let him. “There’s no need to be shy around me, we’re going to get married, we should be open.” He wasn’t having any of it.

“I don’t know honey you know I get awkward, just not something I’m comfortable with I guess.”

“Maybe we could get some books or take a class or something? So many different things we could try and I want to try them with you.” You were trying to open him up, you didn’t want to imagine a life of predictable repetitive sex - no matter how much you loved him.

“Maybe, let’s revisit it again at some point. Goodnight honey.” He kissed your forehead again and turned so you were spooning him. You tried to be understanding, you tried to think about respecting his boundaries but all you came up with was Mr York’s thumb in your mouth.

———————————-

“David- David!” His head snapped back to the sound. Carol was standing in front of him with an exasperated look on her face.

“David what is going on? I’ve been calling you for the last ten minutes.” He was thinking of you.

“Sorry honey, my head is still at work. What's going on?” He gave her his most convincing smile and she shook her head, amused.

“Dinners ready, the girls want to tell you about their day. Come on, I made your favourite.” She smiled sweetly as she left his home office. The smile disappeared as fast as it’d been conjured.

---

“How was school today girls?” He couldn’t ask about you outright, had to dance around it.

“It was good, learning about the solar system.” His eldest, Molly. He smiled and asked her how she liked it, she talked about it excitedly and he enjoyed her enthusiasm.

“What about you Alice, how was school today?” His youngest was shy, but he could see his personality in her. A little more intense, a little more reserved.

“Good, we have a field trip next week.” There it is.

“That sounds nice, where are you going?” A field trip - this could do nicely.

“Museum, I have the form in my bag. I need you to sign it.” So many shadowy corners in a museum.

“Go get the form sweetheart, I don’t want to forget.” Carol prompted her.

She came back with it a few minutes later and David held it in his hands. He saw a little note on the form that made him smile despite himself.

Chaperones are always needed - please call to volunteer.

“What do you think about me volunteering for this? I could take a day and it would be nice to take some interest.” He took her hand in his and smiled warmly, looking for all the world to be a devoted father.

“Honey, that's a great idea. I’ll call tomorrow and let them know.” She was happy, and David was happy.

----

The night before a school trip always made you nervous. So many variables - it was hard enough to control a class full of seven and eight year olds in a classroom let alone in a museum. At least a couple of parents had volunteered, you saw Mrs York on the form and it made your heart skip. You imagined she’d be able to see every thought you’d had about her husband on your face.

You fell asleep thinking about him.

---

“Okay kids, let’s settle down. The bus will be here soon and I need to make sure everyone has their buddies. What’s the rule?” You asked over the excited din.

“Stay with your buddy!” They all said it in unison.

“Exactly! Now we will be there all day, we have a lot to see, you can leave your backpacks here. We’re going to have lunch there and we’ll be back in time for those of you who take the bus home. You can have a little free time while we wait for the buses.” They instantly grouped together to chat excitedly while you made sure you had everything in order. There were a couple of parents and you gave them wristbands to put on the children.

“Sorry I’m a few minutes late.” Mr York was walking into your classroom in casual clothes. What the hell was he doing here?

“Hello Mr York, you’re right on time. Where’s Mrs York? I thought she had volunteered?” You tried to ask the question neutrally but he could see the panic in your eyes.

“It was always me, whoever took her phone call must have made a mistake.” He spoke gently but it did something to you. You felt his eyes roaming your body and you flushed.

Great, this is going to be just great.

You did your best to centre your breathing while you led the children down the hall and to the buses. You could feel his eyes on you as you made your way down the hall. You did your best to ignore it.

The students lined up in front of the bus in pairs and you quickly went over the rules again - making sure to look at the three parents who were going with you. You noticed David talking to Alice, telling her to behave today and that he’d be helping you take care of the class.

Two of the parents got in first to sit at the back, Mr York waited until you got on, you were trying to focus but you couldn’t. You could feel him standing close to you and you were beginning to sweat.

You meant to sit alone but he followed closely behind you and pushed his way to the same seat as you. He took up so much space and you didn’t want to make a big fuss in front of the kids.

The bus driver closed the door and you were on your way. It would be about forty-five minutes to an hour until you got there and it hit you then how absolutely fucked you were.

The kids were excited and chatty and the din of them talking and laughing drowned out everything. You decided to focus your attention on the window and the scenery. You did not want to focus on Mr York. He was having none of it though.

“I like your dress.” He spoke into your ear and you shivered.

“Look Mr York-“

“Call me David.” He looked down at your slight cleavage and you sighed angrily.

“Look David, I don’t know what it is you think is going on but I am engaged. I am engaged to be married and you are the married father of one of my students. I would appreciate it if you could keep your interactions with me strictly professional.” You whispered angrily, trying to sound serious. He smiled pleasantly at you as if you were old friends catching up.

“Is that what you would call sucking my thumb? Professional? It seemed like you wished it was something else you’d been sucking.” His words went directly to your cunt. You saw it then, him sitting with that amused look on his face as you kneeled in front of him, with his cock in your mouth like a good girl.

Charlie.

You were in love with and about to marry Charlie.

He saw the look on your face and he smiled-

“What’s your fiancé’s name?” How dare he?

“His name is Charlie and I love him.” Why did you feel the need to explain this to him?

“That may be true, but I get the feeling that Charlie doesn’t quite know how to fuck you. Or you wouldn’t be licking your lips at the thought of my cock in your mouth. Is that it baby? You haven’t been fucked properly? I can fix that.” His words had you dripping. Charlie had never spoken to you like this and it made you so angry to compare them right now.

You closed your eyes and let the words pass over you, you had to focus. You couldn’t let this admittedly handsome, intimidating man come into your life and lay waste. He took your silence as a sign that he was right.

You felt his fingers ghost over your thigh and you felt like you’d been struck by lightning. Your eyes shot to his hand and to your shame, you hoped for something forbidden. He watched you closely.

“I think about you all the time and something tells me that you think about me too. Think about what I could do or say to get you wet enough for me to glide right in. Have you ride my cock, have your tits bouncing in my face.” His hand gripped your thigh and you whimpered slightly, involuntarily angling your body towards him.

“He doesn’t know what you need.” He hand travelled up up up ghosting along your seam, just enough to drive you insane through your panties and you put your head onto his shoulder. He stopped then and took his hand away and you came back to reality.

The guilt hit you like a tsunami and you squeezed yourself closer to the window, trying for all the world to make yourself smaller, and in turn the distance between you bigger.

He smiled and sat quietly for the rest of the ride to the museum.

——————-

The relief you felt when the bus pulled in was astonishing and you had to hold yourself back from barreling over David to get away. You felt him chuckling as you struggled to get away and you held back the urge to slap him across the face by the grace of god.

“Okay class, let’s get together with our buddies and head over to our first exhibit. If you have any questions please feel free to ask our helpers or myself. What’s the rule?”

“Stick with your buddy!” They yelled it out again.

“Exactly, that means even if you have to use the restroom you go with your buddies. Please ask one of the parents or me before you go.” You were back in your element now and it felt better. You were back in teacher mode and you told yourself that you could do this.

The morning went by relatively smoothly, you had all of the children wrangled and you made your way through the exhibits without issue. You were thankful that David kept his distance from you, he helped the children and you saw him doting on his daughter.

You had decided to block out what happened on the bus. It never happened.

By noon the kids were getting feral, you guided everyone up to the cafeteria and had them sit so the adults could grab everyone their food in shifts. All in all it went pretty smoothly and you had managed to put the whole incident out of your mind.

You let one of the parents know that you were going to sneak away to use the bathroom while the kids were all in one place and she told you to take your time.

You can do this, you told yourself as you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

You were blindsided when you came out of the bathroom, a hand covering your mouth and pulling you away into a closed off exhibit. The panic shot through you like lightning and you tried to fight your attacker off - visions of Charlie flashed through your mind, of the wedding, of your family; your students. His voice didn’t calm you.

“Stop fighting, it’s just me.” His tone suggested that this should have calmed you. It did not.

It pissed you off and once you regained your composure and stopped squirming, he loosened his grip. It gave you the opening you needed and you slapped him across the face - or you would have, but his hand shot up cat-quick and grabbed your wrist before your hand could meet its target.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You were seething, the audacity of this man to put his hands on you. You were trying to hold the anger close- bringing it to the forefront of your mind so as to eclipse the excitement. That had no place here... right?

Why are you so fucking excited?

Why does it feel like you’ve never known this kind of excitement until now?

Get it the fuck together, think of Charlie.

“I am going to make you cum.” Those words were thrown out into the air like they meant nothing. Like it was simply a chore to be completed off a list.

He was getting closer. His movements brought to mind the wildlife documentaries that Charlie liked to watch, you could see the big jungle cat slowly stalking towards the gazelle. If you were home and watching this scene unfold on the screen, you would be yelling at yourself to run.

You couldn’t make your legs move, worse still - you didn’t really want to.

Instead you stood there, silent and unmoving. Waiting for the jungle cat to pounce on you, waiting for him to crush your neck with strong jaws and long claws.

Why were you so wet?

“I’m going to pull that short little dress up, and I’m going to make you cum with my fingers. Would you like that baby? You want me to make that little pussy cum?” He was in your space now, towering over you and you couldn’t look away. Your breath was coming hard at the filth pouring out of his mouth.

Charlie never spoke to you this way.

You felt the wall and you realised he’d been herding you, exactly where he wanted you. You looked up at him through your lashes- god he’s so tall, so broad - and his arms came up to rest on either side of your head, essentially caging you in. The heat was rolling off him, was it heat? Or was it your own excitement? You’d never be able to tell, all you knew for certain is that you were dripping. You were feral and you couldn’t stop looking at his mouth. He smiled as he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your neck as he spoke right into your ear.

“Do you want me to? Do you want me to make you cum baby?” the low tone, the proximity, the wrongness of it. You would never admit it after but you nodded, almost imperceptibly. His smile for you then was genuine.

It felt like his hands were charged with electricity, those wands that they had at science centers that made your skin tingle. You felt it, as his fingers softly skimmed your thigh as they travelled up to your soaked center. He touched the damp spot on your panties and chuckled, then moved them aside swiftly to part your folds. You gasped when he glided his finger over your clit, over and over and over, the pressure far too light.

Your own hands found their way up to clutch at his shirt, you didn’t want to admit that you were holding him close to you. That you didn’t want him to pull away.

“Open up for me baby.” he bit at your ear as he lifted your leg to wrap around his hip, you were spread open for him while he wrapped his arm around your waist to grab at your ass. He was doing this to you during a school trip. This was a low you never thought you’d sink to.

“Just as I thought, look how wet you are - and how tight-” He slid two fingers into you and you moaned, they were thick and you were so turned on it hurt. “Don’t worry baby I’m going to take care of you, make you cum, fuck this tight pussy with my fingers - have to cum fast for me okay? We have to get back. Can you do that? Can you cum for me?” He was kissing your neck and licking your pulse point.

“Answer me, or I'll stop, be a good girl for me.” His fingers pulled out and you whimpered - grabbing at his forearm to pull it back because you needed to cum. He brought his fingers up to your mouth and you looked into his eyes as he rubbed your arousal onto your lips. Your knees almost gave out at the depravity of it, in public. While your students and the other parents waited for you. He was expecting an answer.

“Yes.” Your face was beet red and flushed and the word sealed your fate. He kissed you, rough and fast and it took your breath right out of your lungs. His tongue licked your slick off your lips and plundered your mouth while he fulfilled his promise. His fingers diving back into you, this time with the addition of his thumb on your clit.

You could vaguely hear the wet squelch of your cunt as he sped up. It was so good, it was everything and all you needed was a little push to finally leap into the abyss.

“Come on baby, you’re so fucking wet for me. I think you can take another finger.” The noises were obscene and the stretch was so good - he curled his fingers and touched something white hot and it made you cry out a little louder than you should have. His hand came up and clamped over your mouth and the filth came again. “There it is- that’s what you like right baby? Come on, cum for daddy.” You fell apart then. It was disgusting and you’d never cum this hard in your life.

You were vaguely aware of him fixing your clothes, of him licking every drop of your slick from his fingers.

You were blissed out as you walked back to the table on shaky legs, the guilt creeped in though as you slowly drifted back down to reality, you’d been gone for longer than you thought.

“Sorry about that - we got completely turned around, this place is a maze huh?” Dave spoke, quelling the annoyed looks from the other parents and smoothing it out with practised charm.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look anyone in the eye.

-----

It was hard to focus for the remainder of the trip. You could feel his eyes on you as you wound your way around the different exhibits.

The turmoil between your brain and your body threatened to drive you into madness - you could still feel him inside you and it caused your heart to race, to excite you. Your brain was scolding you. How could you let him do that to you?

Oh Charlie

——

The bus ride back to the school was a bit better, one of the other parents sat beside you and it was as if you could almost pretend that everything was normal. Or you would have been able to - had you not been able to feel David's eyes boring into the back of your head. It was a long ride home.

The school busses were waiting when you pulled into the school and you had to hurry to get your kids to your classroom to get their things. After you made sure they were okay and on the bus you went about getting ready to go home. There was a text from an unknown number in your phone - you didn’t have to guess who it was from.

Be a good girl, and free up a couple of hours for me this Sunday. I will come and get you.

You answered before you could even contemplate what it meant.

Okay.

You didn’t even bother wondering how he would know where to go.

--

You sat in your car, in one of the parking spaces you and Charlie had. You could see his car next to yours and you had no idea how the hell you were going to walk in there and pretend nothing had happened. How could you have done this, moreover how could you have agreed to see David again?

I’ll tell him it has to stop. Whatever it was that we did it was a horrible mistake.

Your heart was racing as you got off the elevator, every step down the hallway was another lump of stone settling in the pit of your stomach. Charlie was in the shower when you got home - you could hear the water running and all you could think of was how you were sure he’d be able to see what you did written on your face. Another stone.

“Hey babe, how was the trip?” he was all smiles and the accusatory pointed finger in your face never came. Instead he walked over to you and hugged you tightly, little beads of water dripping from his hair onto your shoulder.

“It was good, how was your day?” His voice lulled you, made you want to forget everything you’d done and it was easier trying to put the whole thing out of your mind than think about it in front of Charlie. It was a stupid mistake and it wasn’t even worth remembering. On Sunday it would be fixed. You were going to tell David to fuck off and then everything would go back to normal.

“It was good - I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight. What do you think?” He was all smiles, all sweetness.

“Sure babe.” You tried to be happy. You tried to focus, but you could still feel the stretch of David’s fingers when you moved.

----

I’ll be there in an hour, wear something pretty for me.

The text came in and your heart started racing. You had told Charlie that you were going to the school to prepare some work for tomorrow and he had just smiled and nodded. Told you to take your time - that he loved you.

You were determined to tell David that this was not going to become a thing. It was not going to escalate. You conveniently ignored the fact that you wore your cutest sundress, your sheer panties, the matching bra. It was a confidence thing. Nothing to do with David.

I’m here.

You practically ran out the door. It was to end things, you were in a hurry to end things. There was a big SUV waiting in the visitors parking lot and you saw him sitting, looking at his phone. He smiled when he saw you and you felt the butterflies in your stomach as you got into the front seat. He gave you a once over, the shortness of your dress, the fact that your hair was done - and smiled as he drove away from your building; from your life.

Tell him, tell him to turn around and to take you back home. To leave you alone forever.

“Where are we going?” Was what came out when you opened your mouth.

“Somewhere we can be alone.” Was all he said, his hand moved and rested on your thigh as he drove. You stared at it and to your shame and excitement, you didn’t move it away. He gripped your thigh possessively, stroking the inside of it and it made you ache.

Do it - move his hand away, tell him - go on.

You put your hand on his, but you couldn’t move it away. The heat from his big palm was seeping into your skin and instead you just pressed his hand with yours.

Pathetic.

You were in an abandoned parking garage a little while later and he parked in a far corner. Your blood was pumping and you were nervous. He unbuckled his seatbelt and moved his seat all the way back, so he was far away from the steering wheel.

“David, I don’t think-” You started speaking but he cut you off.

“Come over here.” He tapped his lap and your stomach dropped, you wanted to crawl over there so bad. You stared at him and he raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to be a brat? Come over here, if I have to ask again you’re going to be punished.” You felt the wave of arousal wash over you. What could he possibly mean? You didn’t want to find out - not yet anyway.

You crawled over the console awkwardly and sat in his lap, straddling him. He smiled at you and settled his hands on your thighs.

“Such a good girl for me, did you think about me?” He lifted your dress slightly and grabbed handfuls of your ass. You couldn’t help but groan, you could feel him hardening underneath you and you didn’t even register your hands coming up to wrap around his neck. They seemed to play with the hair at the nape of his neck on their own. How could he excite you so much? “Answer me baby, when I ask you a question you need to answer me.” He was kissing your neck, and slowly undoing the buttons of your sundress.

“Yes.” You breathed as he exposed your bra, the lace so fine it was completely transparent. He smiled as he studied you. Face flushed, dress bunched up around your thighs, lips parted.

“What did you think about?” He runs the pads of his fingers across the tops of your breasts as he speaks and you can’t even begin to rationalise why you’re doing this.

“I thought about you…” you tried to be coy but you knew he wouldn’t leave it there.

“What about me, did you think about me touching you? Tell me.” He separates his body from yours, you can see that he wants you to answer before he continues. You can feel your face getting flushed.

“I thought about what we did at the museum, your hands…” you unconsciously tried to get closer to him and he smiled. He smelled so good, you could feel his cock and it made you ache.

“You thought about my hands? Be specific, baby. Tell me what you thought about.” He started kissing the tops of your breasts, slowly making his way down, kissing every inch he could reach through the fabric. You could feel the slick pooling at your entrance, you knew what he wanted. Your mind briefly went back to Charlie, to how he was intimidated by dirty talk.

“I thought about how I could still feel your fingers in my pussy when I got home. They stretched me so good.” Your face was beet red and your skin was on fire. This was what he wanted. He rewarded you by pulling your bra down, exposing your breasts. Your nipples were hard and begging for his mouth and he obliged; pulling you close so he could wrap his lips around one. His mouth was hot and you could feel his teeth just a little. Just enough to make you moan.

“Such a good girl for me, now you get a reward for being so good for daddy.” He bit your nipple a little harder than you thought and there was a bit of pain but it felt so good you let out a breathy moan. You felt him sucking and in the back of your mind, you knew this would leave a mark. Warning bells were going off, he couldn’t leave a mark. Charlie couldn’t see this.

He let go of one nipple to give the same attention to the other - it was so good you had to clutch at the back of his head, you wanted him closer. All thoughts of the marks forgotten when his tongue felt so good.

“Does it feel good? How wet are you right now baby?” He honed in on your nipple again, holding your breasts in his big hands and alternating between the two.

“Yes, god yes - it feels so good. I’m so wet for you…” All you could do was watch, watch as he licked and licked and licked until you were dizzy from the pleasure. Until you thought you might faint, until your nipples were overly sensitive and you could see the hickeys and the little bite marks.

“Show me how wet you are.” He pulled off and let you scoot back a little, you pulled your dress up and he saw the wet patch on your underwear. It was so bad it had soaked through onto his lap. The bulge in his jeans- a little darker. He groaned and skimmed his knuckle against the damp spot at your core and you shuddered. You were so keyed up from the attention he’d given your breasts that it wouldn’t take much at this point.

He undid his jeans and pulled himself out - his cock was so thick, your eyes widened - momentarily nervous. This whole thing just became real. Touching and words could be justified as a temporary madness, you didn’t know what you were doing. Sex, letting him fuck you - that would be the final line to cross. He saw the hesitation in your eyes.

You watched his hand grasp his cock and slowly start to stroke it between your legs, a pearly bead of precum on the head before his thumb swiped through it. Using it to make the strokes more fluid. He let you watch - saw your tongue lick your lips and he let you make the choice.

He waited for you to make the choice, but he didn’t make it easy.

“You see baby? You see how hard you make daddy's cock? I think about you, about how pretty you would look with it in your mouth, in your throat. About you bouncing on it - fucking you deep. Fucking my cum into you until you’re full of me.” He was working himself up, you could hear the slick strokes and you clenched, you needed him inside you.

Wordlessly, you pulled your panties to the side and scooted closer.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.” He didn’t stop stroking and you felt yourself getting desperate. You were about to let this married man fuck you in his car, in the middle of a parking garage in broad daylight. You couldn’t remember ever being this excited in your life.

“I want your cock, I want you to fuck me - please.” You were not above begging right now.

He was merciful - he pulled you closer and rubbed his cock through your folds once - then he slid inside. The stretch made you gasp. It hurt a little bit, even with how wet you were.

“Look how well you’re taking me baby, I know it’s a lot - so tight, god you feel so good.” He rested his head on your chest while he let you get accustomed. “Need to get you a little wetter, wet enough to take my big cock.” He focused on your nipples again, making you cry out. You were so full and your nipples were so sensitive you didn’t think you could take any more.

“Please - please move, please make me cum.” You were so overwhelmed you were on the verge of tears. He bucked up once and you gasped - he was pressed up against the spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars and you were moaning, you rolled your hips and as he bucked up into you and you knew the coil was about to snap. He snaked his hand down - pressing his thumb to your clit. Your slick was drenching his lap and you told him i’m gonna cum and he gripped your ass to really buck up and when you came he bit at your breast again.

“God you’re pussy gets so fucking wet when you cum, fuck - squeezing me so fucking tight, I’m going to think about this cunt later.” He came with a groan - open mouthed kisses on your breasts. You could feel his cum dripping out of you and you gave a silent prayer that you were on birth control.

You were not a virgin. You’d had sex before - you’d had good sex before. This wasn’t good sex. This was great sex -this was otherworldly and it scared you with how good you felt. Even with the bites and hickeys on your tits. How were you supposed to hide this? It was hard to feel the guilt when he was rubbing your back like this, when he was kissing your neck and loving you like this.

“You did so good baby - such a good girl for me.” He pulled you down to him by the back of your neck and he kissed you - his tongue running along the seam of your mouth. You granted him entrance and it was consuming, your hands gripped his hair and you clenched around him. He rewarded you with a groan into your mouth. Even with the guilt you couldn’t get close enough. His praise was like a tonic - you needed it and his kisses. You whimpered into his mouth and he knew. He knew what you needed. “My best girl, my beautiful girl. Took me so well, made me cum with that pretty pussy.” He kissed your neck and rubbed your back lovingly and you felt like a cat in a bright patch of sun under his praise. Cuddly and satiated as you burrowed into the crook of his neck.

“A few more minutes and then we have to go home.” He spoke into your hair as he let you take your comfort.

----

“You okay babe?” Charlie's voice startled you when you walked into the apartment, your tote bag full of school things, untouched on your shoulder.

“Yes - why?” You answered too quickly - you expected him to see everything written on your face. You could still feel David's cock inside you, his cum currently pooled in your panties. Could feel your breasts were a little sore from his attention and that excited you more than it had any right to.

“Nothing just looks like you’ve seen a ghost - did you get a lot done? I made dinner by the way - your favourite.” He smiled from the couch, he was playing video games which was good. Would mean he wouldn’t intrude on you in the bathroom. The guilt was hot and heavy in your gut but you plastered a smile on your face.

“Yeah, lots of activities planned for the kids tomorrow. Thanks babe- i’m going to shower quickly.” You smiled and came over to kiss him on the forehead quickly. Making sure not to linger too quickly. You had no idea if you smelled like David. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Okay honey, I’ll wait for you to eat.” He went back to his game.

----

This was not good.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror naked, your breasts were full of hickeys, little bruises. Your nipples were puffy from David’s mouth and the soreness between your legs was insistent. The tell tale heart only it was under your clothes instead of your floorboards.

How the fuck am I going to hide this?

The lips of your sex were sensitive when you washed, you kept replaying the whole thing over in your mind and you still couldn’t believe you’d done this. Not only had you done it, you’d enjoyed it immensely. His words, god his words.

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but compare them, Charlie and David. Polar opposites, especially in how they made you feel.

Charlie was dependable, he was home - pure comfort and love.

David was excitement, sex and filth and he made you so wet you couldn’t stand it. When he called you his good girl something inside you luxuriated, something was fulfilled that you didn't even realize needed fulfilling. You knew though, you knew this had to be a one time thing.

It couldn’t continue - you ignored that thing inside you that slithered, whispered that you couldn’t stop now - it was too good. You were really good at ignoring things it seemed.

It could have been considered cruel that Charlie’s blind acceptance of your excuse as to why you didn’t want to have sex annoyed you. You ignored that too.

---

David smiled at the wet spot on his jeans when pulled into his driveway.

You had been so responsive, so open to his touch. So receptive of his words and his actions.

The look on your face when he had your tits in his mouth had made him so painfully hard, he was rougher than he meant to be. His original plan had been to ease you into it - soft touches and soft words until he knew you were ready but that little dress, the sheer bra. You were going to be trouble and he couldn’t wait.

It was clear that whoever the jackass was you were engaged to - he wasn’t doing you justice. He wasn’t wringing pleasure out of you like he should be. He could see how much you had enjoyed his attention - even the roughness, the bites and the marking. Thinking about those marks and hickeys on your nipples excited him even now.

He was glad he was home alone - he could put his clothes to wash.

He had so many plans.

---

You managed to put David out of your mind when you went back to work. Your kids took up so much of your energy and it was nice to feel normal, you went so far as to delete his messages on your phone. Not before you saved his name as D, but nevermind that.

After a few days with no contact, you could almost pretend that you had hallucinated the whole thing. Until you saw the -thankfully- fading hickeys on your chest. You had told Charlie that you weren't feeling your best, that you wanted to keep your shirt on during your coupling and as always he agreed happily.

Seemed he could sense your inner peace, a message had come through late in the week while you were on your lunch break.

Free up Saturday night, be ready by 8

Your heart was racing, you could feel it in your clit. You didn’t answer, you wanted to make sure you could actually get away before responding but he didn’t like that. Another text came through.

I expect an answer.

Okay.

You texted back quickly.

Okay what…?

Oh god - you knew what he wanted you to write and it felt so wrong, so dirty but it excited you so much.

Okay daddy.

You blushed and covered your face, almost embarrassed, needing to see his reply but not wanting to face it at the same time.

That’s my good girl. Saturday at 8.

His praise was everything, it made your heart sing, made you feel light and giddy. You like being his good girl don’t you? That slithering thing again - you ignored it. It shamed you that the only thing you could do for the rest of the day, was try to think of a way to get rid of Charlie for the weekend.

—-

Charlie seemed pleasantly surprised, you had -very sneakily- messaged his best friend Jack that he should plan a boys weekend. That you thought he needed to have some fun. To stop thinking about the wedding. Oh god the wedding.

Jack had told you that Charlie was lucky you were so cool and that he’d plan something.

“Are you sure babe? I don’t have to go- it’s just a weekend at Jack’s cottage but I’m sure it’ll be fine if you came or if I stayed here.” You could see he wanted you to be happy, you stomped away the guilt.

“No you go ahead, Jack will be happy to have the boys there without the girlfriends or fiancé’s.” You gave him your most convincing smile. He smiled, promising that if you needed anything he would come back at the drop of a hat.

Not likely. You stomped the slithering thing down too.

----

Charlie left on Thursday night, Jack insisted they stay there until Monday morning and you talked Charlie into going. You relished the idea of being alone, pretending at least in some fucked up part of your brain that you were single. That David was single - just two single adults without families, without any responsibilities or commitments.

When Saturday finally came you were on edge, you had started getting ready a couple of hours before in your excitement. You didn’t want to delve too deep into what that meant but nevertheless.

You focused your energy on making sure your hair looked good, moisturizing your skin - meaningless things that took up your time and helped you conveniently ignore that you were prepping for sex with a married man while your fiance was with his friends.

I’m here.

Your heart leapt, you spritzed your best perfume and made your way out. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your way down.

He was serious when you got into the car and for a moment you were afraid you’d displeased him somehow, it should have worried you how much you craved his approval - his praise.

“Hi.” You said shyly - hoping he’d notice your dress but he didn’t. He drove without a word. What had happened? You thought back to how he had comforted you - held you close and rubbed your back. You wanted that, you wanted a little tenderness before the filth came. It seemed as though he sensed your panic and he placed his hand on your thigh- it calmed you more than it should have.

“Hi baby.” he gave you a little smile and the slithering thing stretched and luxuriated. Everything was okay.

“Where are we going?” You asked him - even though you knew he probably wouldn’t tell you but he surprised you.

“To my house - I’m going to fuck you in my bed.” He spoke casually, completely unphased. His eyes focused on the road, on the streetlights and signs. He couldn’t see how your heart leapt, how the heat spread from your face to your ears, leaving splotches of pink on your chest.

“But - what about?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, your wife.

“She took the girls to their grandparents - I have the house to myself for the weekend. So i’m going to take advantage. Going to take you home - spread you out on my bed and I’m going to do all of the things I’ve been thinking about this whole week.” He spoke as he turned onto a neat little street, full of spaced out homes. Houses that screamed soccer moms and wall-street dads. White picket fences and minivans.

The house both matched him and it didn’t. It made sense that he’d be able to afford this - your thoughts went back to the designer bag Mrs. York brought to your meeting. The SUV you were sitting in had leather seats, it was probably brand new, Carol probably drove a Mercedes. They obviously had money.

You noticed that the lights outside the house were off - didn’t want his neighbours to see him bringing a woman who was definitely not his wife home on a Saturday night. He guided you to the house wordlessly and the guilt reared its ugly head at the sight of two bikes, casually tossed onto the porch. This man was married; had a family and here you were - wet and itching to get underneath him.

It was worse when you got in the house, his wife very much present in all things. Her shoes at the door, her sweater draped over a tasteful sectional. Little avatars of his children were scattered here too - dolls clothes, the evidence of a school project you had assigned. Graded work and colourful pictures drawn by little hands held up by souvenir magnets on the fridge. Visible even from outside the kitchen. Evidence of his life which shouldn’t have had any space for you.

Tell him to take you home right this minute your brain berated you. Your conscience was begging you to take back your life- this could only end badly. You thought of your upcoming wedding, of your sweet fiance who doted on you. On the boring unfulfilling sex the slithering thing added.

You thought all these things and more, but your legs carried you wherever he led. Your pussy dripped for him, your mouth stayed shut. Instead you followed him dutifully up the stairs - passed rooms with colourful block letters, rooms his daughters slept in. The cream coloured carpet under your feet was plush and it cushioned the sound of your steps - steps that took you passed a home office. You could see him there, sitting and working while his daughters played. While his wife cooked dinner.

You had no business here and yet, you kept walking.

The bedroom was tasteful, it was decorated with soft colours, taupes and beiges. The bed was neatly made - piled high with pillows and cushions. You could see them on this bed, David and Carol here, fucking in this bed. It was a curious feeling, you weren’t jealous; you had no reason to be. You had Charlie and he had Carol, was he looking for the same thing in you that you had found in him? He didn’t seem like the kind of man to settle.

You were looking around; so lost in your thoughts you barely heard him approach you and before you knew it he was wrapped around you and the thoughts melted away. His hands burned a path across your skin wherever they touched you.

“I fuck my wife in this bed. I fuck her and think of you. I think about how wet you got when I got your tits out. How wet you get when you cum.” he spoke into your ear and you had to take a deep breath, the ease with which he spoke to you like this was astounding. He walked you toward the bed until you had no choice but to sit.

“You look so pretty when you blush baby.” he ran his hand through your hair, gripping it a little tight, pulling it back so your neck was craned up to him - it pulled a gasp out of your mouth.

“I keep thinking about you like this - looking up at me.” He was taking in everything about you - his gaze travelling the length of your body. “I don’t want to have to ask you things twice tonight. I know you’re going to be a good girl. Are you excited?”

“Yes, very excited.” You answered quickly and he smiled.

“Open your mouth for me baby, show daddy how excited you are.” He started undoing his pants and you unconsciously scooted closer to him. Everything about him lit a fire within you and the thought of his cock in your mouth was making you drool.

He was already hard, you looked up at him through your lashes; tongue out and ready.

“My pretty girl - look at you, so gorgeous like this. Mouth open ready for my cock.” He held himself in one hand while the other held your chin. You licked the bead of precum from the tip and almost moaned. “Tongue out.” He thrust into your mouth slowly- letting you get accustomed to his size, pushing a little deeper each time. You made to raise your hands but he pulled away.

“No baby, not yet, let me fuck your mouth, be good for me - get your tits out for me.” You moaned as you pulled your shirt and bra down. He groaned at the faint marks on your nipples from the last time you were together and continued.

You were so wet, you could feel your panties sticking to you. You sat there as still as you could while he repeatedly slid his cock into your mouth. He would push until he hit your throat and wait until you gagged and then pull out, until you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks. You felt depraved with his precum and your spit dripping onto your chest but the sounds he was making were worth it.

“Look at you, so fucking pretty like this baby, you’re being so good, such a good girl for me. I could cum just like this.” You moaned at his words, at his praise, at the taste of him. He switched your positions so you were standing between his spread legs on the bed. He slowly took your clothes off, kissing your stomach as he went.

“Look at that- look how wet this pretty pussy is. Is all this from having my cock in your mouth baby?” He ran his fingers along your lower lips, all pretty and glossy for him. He kept his touch feather light while he waited for a response.

“Yes, yes you make me this wet, your hands, your mouth, your cock - you.” You brought your hands up to touch his hair and he let you, his hand keeping that slow rhythm - driving you mad with want. He licked at your nipples again while you stood there, steadily gripping his hair tighter and tighter. He pulled away momentarily to take the rest of his clothes off, and when he was done you walked over to him again but before you could mount him he got up and walked around to the side of the bed facing a full length mirror.

You made to straddle him but he stopped you, turning you so you faced away from him; he wanted you to see yourself.

“Look at you, look at how pretty you look. You’re going to watch as Daddy fucks you. We’re both going to watch you bounce on my cock.” He kissed your hip, and bit at your asscheek playfully. You swallowed hard, thinking back to Charlie and knew he never would have thought of this.

He pulled you down and guided himself into your soaked center- the stretch of him making you groan and flutter around him. He spread your legs with his knees, you could see where you were joined in the mirror and the vision of you like that was dizzying. You could hardly recognize yourself like this, your skin was flushed, lips parted, hair dishevelled. You could still see your spit on your chest - you gasped when he bucked up.

“Look how well you take me? Look how well you're taking my cock, does it feel good? Do you like watching?” He moved his hands from their steady grip at your hips, up to grab your tits.

“Yes - god yes Daddy, it feels so good.” You were unhinged. Feeling his cock splitting you open was one thing, seeing it disappear into your body brought the whole thing to another level.

“My best girl, this is my pussy. Mine.” His movements were getting frantic and you couldn’t help but moan, your slick soaking his lap at his words. “Say it, tell me it’s mine.” He brought one hand down to rub perfect little circles at your clit and your climax raced up to hit you. You came with a god yes and he stilled his movements. Your cunt squeezing him so tightly he could barely move. He stood up quickly and put your hands up against the mirror without pulling out.

“Hold still for me, I want you to watch yourself get fucked.” You moaned, you were so wet the sounds were obscene, a wet slap against your ass. It was so dirty, the way he grabbed at you. The way he held your shoulder so he could fuck you harder than you’d ever been fucked and it was too much. You felt on the verge of tears at the intensity but he kept going, until you felt him cum inside you. Felt him dripping out of you and onto that lush carpet.

You couldn’t remember how many times he’d made you cum. All you knew was you were tired, your body spent, your cunt was sore, your tits were sore - your muscles. Everything - but still he wanted more.

He pulled you into the shower to wash your combined pleasure off, but he coaxed more pleasure out of you with his fingers as the water soothed you slightly.

You laid in his bed, maybe even in Carol’s spot with his head between your thighs. He told you how good your pussy tasted, how he owned it; and he did.

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

*let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things Pedro*

As always - thanks to you my angels for letting me send random passages and long pieces of writing for your opinions lol - I literally wouldn't post without you. @foli-vora 💖@frannyzooey 💖 @mouthymandalorian💖

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[absolutepokemontrash]

ayo!! congrats on 666 <33 I'm not sure if its much of a request but I love how you wrote the demon kids personalities! I was wondering what kids of personalities you would see the other brothers kids having? Hypothetically of course (unless 👀)

BRO- I’ve actually been thinking about this for a while! Fan kids are fun to think about, what can I say? Now, these kids aren’t canon to the Awfully Familiar series, the HOL is crowded enough as is… but I hope you enjoy anyways!

(I’m giving all the kids names just so no one gets confused with which kid is whose)

Levi’s Kid

Uh let’s use probability to figure out how rare children of our snek boy are. The Otaku left the house (unlikely), spoke to a human being (very unlikely), did the devil’s tango with them (impossible)

I’m kidding, but seriously what the fuck why did this human exchange student look so much like Levi? Was that a tail? Hehehe… what a weird practical joke…

(I’m calling this MC Percy. Three guesses as to why)

Okay, onto the kiddo’s personality. I’m picturing them being REALLY hyped and REALLY enthusiastic about their hobbies and isn’t afraid to yammer about them. They’re good at what they do and they’re damn proud of it! They turn their envy into *~inspiration~* and get better at the things they enjoy doing!

In all fairness to Levi, it’s a bit easier for his kid because Percy isn’t literally being eaten alive and consumed by this sin every waking moment of his life… perks of being half human! :D

Percy loves swimming, and the ocean, and fish, and they brought a shark back from the beach- wait hang on a second-

It’s not uncommon for Levi to be hardcore gaming while Percy swims around in the fish tank.

The pair of them have a very good relationship, Percy is kind of Levi’s hero with how eager they are to get better at the things they love doing and how they almost never self pity spiral. The one issue is… ugh… Percy is a 🤢…. Sorry. Percy’s a 🤢 🤢-

They’re A FUCKING NORMIE. THEY DON’T LIKE ANIME!

Other than that, the two get along swimmingly. (Ba dum tisssss)

Percy’s reaction to Levi’s cool military titles is basically “WOAH! YOU HAVE BOATS?! CAN I GO ON ONE?!” And Levi would be a monster to decline.

Percy wore a pirate hat despite Levi telling them numerous times that they were a part of the navy, they CATCH pirates. Which are apparently still a big problem in the Devildom…

Also, Percy and Lotan absolutely adore each other. It makes Levi very happy

Satan’s Kid

Satan’s a pretty charming guy, and it’s canon that he’s amazing at seductive speech craft so it’s no surprise that he was able to seduce a human.

You know what is a surprise? The fact that Satan, the smart one, didn’t think to use protection! Like- DUDE I EXPECTED BETTER FROM YOU.

Whatever, anyway, when this kid slammed onto the floor of the assembly hall no one had time to react when the kid suddenly grew horns… and fangs… and a tail… OH FUCK THE KID WAS GOING THROUGH THEIR FIRST TRANSFORMATION WHAT THE FUCK-

(For simplicity’s sake, I’m going to call this kid Lyssa, mainly because of the meaning of the name)

The first thing Lyssa did was launch themselves straight at the first person they saw, and I ask you to guess exactly who sits in the middle seat of the assembly hall. That’s right… Satan… yay…

This kid nearly clawed his face off in the span of two seconds and it took Lucifer and Beel working together to drag them off of him and then Asmo had to step in to use his powers to calm them down. Well. That was eventful.

So Lyssa has a volcanic temper and they’re honestly really bitter and upset at everything, which is something that’s supposed to come in adult life, not so early. So what’s up with this kid? Well, when you’re born with a burning rage deep inside you that can be set off at even the slightest inconvenience and because of that everyone around you immediately assumes you’re dangerous or crazy can really do some damage to a kid.

So who oh who is Lyssa going to blame for this…? Hmmm… who is responsible for the anger? *Side eyes Satan*

“Wow, this kid is blaming me for passing down my wrath even though I couldn’t control giving it to them and if I had the choice I would have made sure they wouldn’t have to live with it and they’re mad at me for subjecting them to existence itself… wow this feels so bad :( who would treat someone like this..?” “*Dad sigh*”

The two of them do eventually get along. It’s actually Satan who extends the olive branch and offers to help them control their anger. As the two spend time together, Lyssa’s intense hatred slowly subsides.

So… what’s Lyssa going to do now? They’ve spent so much of their life being defined by their anger… who the fuck are they????? U-uh… cats! Cats! Lyssa likes cats! Is liking cats a personality? No? Okay… um… Music! Music is relaxing! Lyssa likes music! Um… um… ooo- look at that! They like space! And stars!

You knew what they don’t like? School. Lyssa doesn’t like learning in a controlled environment where they’re being told what to learn. Leave them alone so they can go read about space.

Beelzebub’s kid(s)

*munch* *munch* *chew* *chomp* huh, *chomp* why does the takeout- I mean the human look so much like him…? They’re his kid..? *choke* *cough* *cough* …Huh. Want some chips?

Surprisingly chill first meeting. Well, Beel and the kid were chill, everyone else was freaking the fuck out.

I’m calling this kid Pepper. Why? Fucking guess.

Pepper themselves is just… chill. They’re sort of like a capybara, their vibes are just so immaculate that everyone wants to hang out around them.

Unlike Beel, Pepper’s penchant for food mainly comes from “food is good.” instead of “my body is literally eating itself alive every second of the day and I need to be eating something at almost all times in order to stave off a rampage.” Beel is very happy that his kid doesn’t have to live with food constantly on the brain.

All was well until three days into the exchange program when Pepper asked at the dinner table “so when are we bringing my twin down here?”

…twin genes man… twin genes…

Second kid, I’m calling them Cane. (CANE PEPPER, GET IT?! GET IT?!) this kid is less like a capybara and more like a honey badger. They don’t give a shit.

Here’s the thing though… they’re identical twins.

Cane is basically Beel but smaller. They follow Beel to the gym and usually get stopped at the door. “Kids aren’t allowed in the gym.” Ha, the rules don’t apply to Cane, they just cross their arms and raise their eyebrows and whoever is stopping them just steps aside. Don’t fuck with the honey badger kid.

Pepper and Cane are super close though, but don’t ask if they have a telepathic link or something, Cane will fuck you up and Pepper won’t be able to stop them. (I know a pair of identical twins, and the amount of times they’ve been asked if they can read each other’s minds is enough to make anyone homicidal)

Belphegor’s kid

*squints* how’d this happen..?

Whatever. When Belphie’s kid woke up on the floor of the assembly hall everyone took one look at this kid and collectively went “shitballs”

Belphie was in the attic and his kid was wandering around the house like they ran the place! What the fuuuuuuuuck was Lucifer supposed to do with this????

Anyway, meet Arien.

Arien, how does one describe this little hellspawn? Well, one would call them the brood of Lucifer or the spawn of Satan but that would be false because this manipulative evil devil-child that crawled straight out of a teacher’s nightmares is BELPHIE’S kid. And it fucking SHOWS.

This kid won the demon/human genetic lottery and they’re going to make it everyone’s problem. Basically, they’re sin is sloth, but unlike Belphie, Arien’s is more voluntary, if that makes sense. They sleep and slack off because they like not doing work, not because they’re always tired. They have this sort of lazy relaxed facade that vanishes the second it’s not needed, it’s honestly kind of terrifying.

They quickly learn that if they just pretend to be having troubles with being constantly tired, the rest of the house will go easy on them if they miss their chores and schoolwork.

Jeez Louise when this kid met Belphie…

They both just stared at each other for a solid five minutes before anyone said anything. Belphie somewhat nervously started up his “oh woe is me get me out of here :(“ charade, and the kid played along for a few weeks, until of course, they got suspicious.

You remember how Belphie guilt spiralled with L!MC? Yeah imagine that but 40 times worse, and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

But yeah, blah blah blah Arien breaks Belphie out, they don’t die, family’s back together, happily ever after. But not quite. Arien’s “oh no I’m sorry I’m sleepy…” charade was found out and boy howdy was everyone pissed.

Surprisingly, it was Belphie who gave Arien the wake up thwack, but Arien called Belphie out on his laziness so Belphie was forced to become a better example.

The way they fixed Ari’s behaviour? Extra chores, extra schoolwork, extra everything, and the boys did nothing to help. Basically, “this is how we felt! Deal with it!”

It worked… thankfully.

[ninzied]

a kiss to wake up.

for @myletternevercame. and for @superrpowerlesshuman because reasons.

They’re working late again.

Their caseload has grown since their practice expanded to three, and with it, the longer hours that occasionally bleed into weekends. Not that he minds it. It does mean that Foggy gets to spend less time with Marci than he likes, but at least they live together. She makes him grateful, every day, that he has someone to come home to, to love.

Matt, for his part, puts in his nine-to-five and then takes to the rooftops at night. Sometimes, Foggy can’t even be sure his friend manages to make it home at all, but he’s learning that they all have their own needs. Their own ways to process, live, and grieve.

Karen is strong. Foggy thinks she might one of the strongest people he’s known, for what she has gone through, what she has survived. But more than that, though, she seems happy – in a way that he’s never seen her before, and maybe that’s not entirely to do with finally putting Fisk away for good.

Sometimes, Foggy will catch her smiling down at her phone in the middle of the workday, and he’ll wonder what, or who, that smile is for.

After Fisk, they relocated to a nicer building. They’ve also taken the time – well, Karen has taken the time – to redecorate. Their office has a homey vibe to it now, so at least when they are here, it’s comfortable. Cozy. They even have a mini-bar, and their own bathroom and shower – which Foggy suspects Karen insisted upon for Matt’s benefit, on those nights that never quite end for him.

They’d splurged on a common area, too. It has a TV that they don’t really use, and a couch that Karen is currently half-passed out on, reading through dozens of applications for their new office manager position. They’ve been trying to split up the duties, and they’re starting to feel the strain.

“That bad, huh?” Foggy asks sympathetically. “Hey, it’s not their fault you set the bar so high.”

“I have a friend from Florida who’s been looking for a fall internship in the city,” she muses. “Maybe we can work something out.”

“I defer to your good judgment,” says Foggy.

“Mmm.” Karen’s eyes drift closed for a moment. “I’ll ask Matt about it tomorrow, make sure he’s okay with it too.”

Foggy finishes his prep for court tomorrow and checks his watch. It’s just past late enough that the thought of Karen taking the train home makes him a little uneasy.

“Can I give you a ride?”

“Already got one on the way,” she says, lifting her phone.

“Okay,” says Foggy. “I’ll wait and walk out with you.”

She gives him an amused kind of look, which she doesn’t bother explaining before leaning all the back into the armrest. Her computer is still propped open on her lap, and she shifts a little to keep it from sliding off of her. “Can you let him in when he gets here?”

“Sure,” says Foggy, then blinks. Let…who? He’d assumed she’d called an Uber or something. Maybe it’s the friend from Florida? He starts to ask, but she’s nestled even deeper into the couch, if that’s possible, eyelids growing heavier.

Foggy waits until her breathing has evened out, then carefully extracts her laptop and stows it into her workbag for her.

Ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the door.

Foggy’s dimmed the lights in the office, so when he goes to answer the door it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light spilling in from the hallway. And for him to realize Frank Castle is standing in front of him.

Frank reads the shock on his face and says, in that gruffly direct manner of his, “Karen not tell you I was coming?”

“Um,” says Foggy. “Yeah. I mean – sort of.” He steps back. “Come in. She fell asleep on the couch.”

Frank strides into their office, and though he’s not an absurdly large specimen of a man, his presence immediately takes up the entire room.

He pauses when he sees Karen, curled up on the couch.

“Hate to wake her,” he murmurs. “She hasn’t been sleeping well.”

Foggy lets his jaw drop, just a little. Frank’s back is turned to him, so he wouldn’t have seen it anyway.

He watches Frank approach Karen, bending over the armrest.

“Hey,” he says gently. And then he leans down, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

Foggy is – definitely not seeing things. Right?

Karen stirs, and stretches. Blinks up at Frank with a soft, sleepy smile. “Hi,” she says. She lifts a hand to cup the side of his jaw for a moment.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He kisses the inside of her hand this time. “Ready to go home?”

“I am now.” She retrieves her workbag, slinging it over her shoulder. Frank’s arm goes around her waist as she comes up to his side. She kisses his cheek, and he leans into it, the smallest, infinitesimal amount, but it’s enough to make Foggy wish he’d thought to look away.

He takes a step back, and wonders how feasible it would be to just disappear into the shadows. Matt and Frank always make it look easy. Foggy still needs to get his bag, though, which would require walking right past Frank and Karen and making his presence very obvious to them again.

But then Karen, still looking at Frank, gestures over at him and says, “I was telling Foggy – that position we’re looking to fill, maybe we could make an internship out of it instead.”

Frank seems to consider this.

“What do you think?” asks Karen.

“Wait,” Foggy blurts out. “Not – for you, right? You’re not—”

Frank gives him a look that says he’d rather eat glass than work at Nelson, Murdock & Page. Nothing malicious about it, only matter-of-fact. Then he turns back to Karen and says, “It’s not a bad idea. Kid thinks the world of you, so.”

Was Foggy the one who’d fallen asleep, only to wake up in some alternate universe just now? One where Frank and Karen went and had a whole kid together without him even knowing?

“Mm. Wonder where she gets that from,” says Karen, lightly teasing.

Foggy’s not sure if he’s imagined it, but Frank looks almost bashful as he ducks his head for a moment.

“Can neither confirm nor deny,” he says, taking Karen’s hand in his.

And the way he’s looking at her, Foggy realizes, is the same way Frank has always looked at her – unblinkingly intense as ever, but also like he’s just a little in awe.

Foggy knows he’s not imagining that.

“Hey, that gets the kiddo a gold star in my book,” he says. “Can’t wait to meet her.” He holds Frank’s gaze, to make sure he knows that he’s being sincere.

Frank gives him a nod.

Karen turns to Foggy too. “Walk you out?” she offers, not without a twinkle in her eye.

Foggy can’t help it. He laughs. “Walking with you two, I will either be in more danger than I’ve ever been in my life”—he pauses as he gathers his things—“or I’ll never be safer.” He tilts his chin. “It’s really a toss-up, which is more likely.”

Frank holds open the door for him. “Guess we’re about to find out,” he says, utterly deadpan.

Foggy squares his shoulders. “Guess we are,” he says, meeting Frank’s eye with mock solemnity, and if Frank cracks a brief smile at that, well – Foggy could pretend he saw otherwise.

Instead, he grins back, and offers to lock the door on their way out.

[morelike-bi-light]

unplanned unexpected unwarranted vampire charlie au

au where bella decides she cant leave her dad behind like her mom did and convinces edward and carlisle to protect him too. carlisle ushers him out of the house and explains things to him, providing proof as needed - as much as he can. they go to arizona to hide out, charlie stumbling over his words to convince renee that he and bella were threatened and are in enough danger to need to hide out in a different state.

bella still gets the phone call, and renee doesn't answer when either of them call. when the others are distracted, she still gets away to meet james, but when the cullens go to save her, charlie's waiting outside with esme and rosalie (who are guarding him on the road instead). victoria is there too - and she gives them more trouble than they anticipated. emmett and jasper are distracted by the redhead and the noises from inside the studio getting louder and more concerning by the second.

when a scream rings out — he's never heard bella sound like this, not even when she was a mousy little girl buried under his seahawks baseball cap far too big for her head — charlie can't help but wrench open the door and run inside. his baby is cowering away from a bloodthirsty monster and there's not even a pause in his step as he sprints over to shield her form with his own, squeezing her against his chest and praying for the first time since he heard she wanted to come up to forks for the rest of school

his prayer's interrupted by a loud shattering sound and a malicious laugh. "aw, look at that! daddy's trying to save you. what a noble, pointless sacrifice!" a smack like stone hitting stone. "well far be it from me to deny a man his dying wish."

he doesn't hear what he says next - he doesn't hear anything, or see anything, because everything is white and sharp and pain, burning like a star, blooming in the crevice where his shoulder meets his collarbone. nothing exists right then but the cold fire in his skin, burrowing in his bone. it feels like hours before anything changes. the first thing to slip through is wet on his cheek and cool hands scrabbling to clutch at his.

"dad! dad!" bella? "edward! carlisle! anybody, any of you, please, I need help! my dad — needs help!" a hand on his cheek, trembling and frantic. "dad just hang in there! somebody help us!"

his fingers twitch, stretching towards her. "bella —you okay — bells — "

"im okay! im okay, im so sorry, dad, im so sorry! im sorry, it shouldnt have been you — this is all my fault — edward! edward please, you have to help him!"

hers is still the only voice he can discern but there are more emerging, blending together but getting closer. he catches snatches of words like 'bit', and 'spread', and 'minutes', and 'sorry', and 'safety'. a pale shape stands at the edge of his vision, and at once he's lifted from the floor. he convulses, eliciting another audible choke from his sweet daughter, and he recognizes a familiar, soothing voice from above.

"we can't stay here..."

"what? what do you mean?"

"we'll bring him back with us..."

"what are you going to do?"

"let him take him, bella, please"

"we'll watch over him, i promise."

"Im not leaving him, i can't just let him go!"

"i promise," softer. "jasper — will he sleep?"

the world softens and fully crumbles away. there's nothing left. nothing but fire.

time doesn't exist here, but then the fire, it doesn't go out. yet it stops hurting. it stops eating. it starts feeding. a single thought pops into his head that will make no sense to him when he recalls it later — a weary 'oh. i see.'

three days after the ballet studio, he wakes up to a brown popcorn ceiling. he blinks. he can see every crack and cranny in the plaster.

"mr. swan?" a tinkling voice says, and he sits up. "good, I thought you'd be up." the little black haired cullen girl beams up at him, chipper but sorry. her hand is curled around his wrist. "bella will be back any moment, and carlisle soon after. they're just across the hall, actually. he says we'll need to look after you for a while, just in case, —"

she pauses, just soon enough to avoid being interrupted by the sound of beeping and pressing keys and the door swinging open. bella is whole and wonderful — he can see every inch of her and she's really actually fine, not even a scratch — and she freezes seeing him but then she's flinging herself forward, pale face contorting

"dad—!"

"b-bells," he stands up, quickly, too quickly, to meet her, tugging alice along with him, but edward catches his girlfriend's hand and holds her back as he voices her objections to her entering at all. charlie scowls at first, when a scent reaches his nose — a smell that might've made his stomach growl if it could. his eyes cast up in open question.

edward is stiff, eyes looking conflicted but legs poised to pounce. "it's her."

"oh." charlie shifts uncomfortably on his feet, properly spooked, willing the despairing thirst away. as moments pass since making the connection, the scent of blood — of food — fades, to the point he can hardly detect it at all. it's a sharp relief.

"you — how do you feel," bella forces out, eyes locked with his with an uncomfortable intensity that makes him squirm and anxiously rake a hand through his hair. carlisle and the others filter in behind her and he's grateful for something else to look at, now he knows she's safe.

"better," he settles on. "than before, I mean. was that — did —" he waits for someone to interrupt him and fill him in, but it's quiet. "are you okay?"

a bark of laughter bursts from her chest and she assures him she's fine, eyes wide and brows furrowed like she can't believe he's a real person, the way she gets sometimes when he says something so awkward and sincere it makes her want to groan. but she doesn't want to groan anymore. instead she's torn between crying and singing.

"what do you remember?" carlisle asks, gently stepping forward, his gaze a mix of clinical fascination, wary confusion, and personal concern. charlie would flush beneath it... but the heat never comes to his cheeks.

"exactly how much are you looking for," he grumbles. "last thing i recall..." no need to go into the pain. "finding bella with that... guy at the studio."

"just finding her?"

"trying to protect her," he amends, focused on avoiding everyone's gaze. "and... it was..." then he notices how much there is to see, even when hes trying not to look at anything. he frowns. absorbing this much — it feels like a headache, minus the pain itself. overload. "it was him wasnt it. he bit me"

esme and jasper nod, but carlisle and bella just look away, the brunette visibly cringing. edward's jaw tightens, and for some inexplicable reason, the sight of that is what makes it all click for him.

"so," he fumbles for a second, but the word comes out so clean and sure when he says it, not at all like he feels. his mouth is physically incapable of tripping over itself like hes used to, no stammer, no stumbling. he grimaces and all the muscles pull exactly like he intends them too. he shakes his head. "he bit me. and? can i assume that's what's got me feeling so weird? the... some sort of effect of the bite?"

bella doesnt answer. neither does carlisle. surprisingly, it's that blonde girl that replies, though not to him.

"show him," she says, and after a moment, esme creeps forward, gesturing for his hand. he hesitates, but takes it. edward shifts to place bella behind him, as if she needs to be protected from him the way charlie protected her from james, a move that breaks his heart. gently, esme maneuvers him over to the bathroom. she turns on the lights, though she didn't really need to. he blinks. red. in the middle of a face with skin more suited to a shelf at a morgue than the tasteful backsplash of the bathroom, framed with dark, curling, concerningly long lashes, his irises were red. that wasn't it, either.

"am i..." he huffed. "am i seeing things, or am i way better looking than usual?"

a ripple of good humor disturbs the room, from esme's warm giggle, to a watery chuckle from bella, to a great, booming crow from emmett.

"way to focus on what's important, chief," alice nods, at the man's back in an instant. she doesn't sound nearly as sarcastic as those words should warrant. "finally, a man after my own heart."

"wait till you try running for the first time," emmett interjects, joining her behind him. "mind, blown."

some of the other family members sigh and shake their heads. charlie runs his eyes along his sharper jaw, still sprinkled with the stubble he'd acquired in the preceding chaos, now even and almost roguish where before hes pretty sure it made him look old and unkempt. he looks younger, he thinks, not young exactly, but good. better than his age.

he pulls away from his reflection, eyes flickering from face to face around him. he might even have said that he fit in with the mythically beautiful family. hes struck by how silly he was to dismiss the strangeness of the gorgeous, antisocial group out of hand, now that he sees how strange he's become himself, before his eyes fall to his daughter.

"im sorry dad" she mumbles, humor evaporating, and a pain resounds like a crack in his chest.

slowly, carefully, he moves forward, and the rest of the vampires stand on high alert as they realize what he's about to do. bella's eyes are bloodshot and he presses his lips together in a bittersweet line as he wraps her in his arms and tucks her close, just under his chin. a shudder runs down his spine as a phantom pain ghosts over his shoulder, but he brushes it aside and it evaporates like water. when he breathes in, she smells the way she always has, and he is not hungry.

"it's okay, kiddo. we'll get through this. im just glad you're okay."

and they do. charlie's vampiric powers are related to shielding, like his daughter, but his are more like putting things on mute, if that makes sense. small things, obviously, and usually physical. he's got a great deal more resistance to thirst than most newborns, for example, because it's muted by his powers, particularly for those he cares about. unfortunately this makes it likelier for him to, uh, die of thirst, as it's possible for him to forget to feed. and he can't block edward from hearing his thoughts completely, but they're muffled naturally by his powers (and always will be. hes not helping anyone into his head any time soon, especially not his daughter's boyfriend). he can also mute his own scent to the shapeshifters — which means he and billy, after things are all sorted, will still be able to hang out and be best friends!! he can also mute his own footsteps,

anyways this started as a meme post intending to go into how comedic it would be if charlie got changed and bella spent the rest of the series complaining that edward wanted to spend the rest of eternity with her father but not with her but then i got struck with some mad charlie feels and this happened so anyways vampire!charlie everyone @charlieswanismyrealdad @effervescent-emmett @cullen-trash @emmettmccartycullen @jaspell @leahclearwaterdefensesquad is this anything