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novashelby · 3 months ago

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I'm Not Your Wife, I'm Your Daughter Part II-A Tommy Shelby x daughter!OC Angst FT. Jack Nelson

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Daughter!OC Feat. Jack Nelson

Warning: MDNI. 18+. Mention of murder, death, mention of child abuse, sex abuse, prostitution, emotional abuse, mental abuse.

Word Count: 3,518

Summary: After Evelyn attempts to leave the hospital to go home, one of her father's enemies decides to have a little chat with her. He proposes quite an awful deal in order to build his assets.

Please, if you read it and enjoy it, leave a comment and reblog. It would be so kind of you. I also respond to all comments. It is the best way to build community.

*I am sorry if I got Jack's character wrong. It is my first time writing him.

To her dismay, he was amused, taking slow steps back to her. Tilting his head in morbid curiosity, “and how would you do that? Chop her head off, I mean.” Evie coward in his presence. A short man, but he knew how to make an appearance. He loomed over her, hand resuming his position on her flushed, hot cheek. “Hm? There’s many methods of decapitating heads, but I don’t think my good girl is familiar with many of them-”

“You’re be fucking cynical-”

“Language,” he scolded, but tone even. Low and calm. He was the worst when calm. Though never striking her with his hand, he often had a way of punishing her with his words. The twenty-four year old woman felt small. Once again, pressed against the wooden door frame. The smell of death from the corridor seeping up her nose. His hand cupped her cheek, massaging it. “I’ve taught you better than that, love.”

Despite it all, she leaned into his affection, sighing at how easy it was for her to give into him. “I’m tired. I’m tired of it all, Daddy, and I don’t know how much longer I can be strong for everyone.”

He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. “I know…I know. I know you’re angry. And though I am defensive to all, I understand why you’re angry, but conventional life isn’t suited for an unconventional family, Evelyn. You need to understand that.” He paused, opening his eyes on an exhale. His hand moved gently from her cheek to under her chin, making her look at him. “I did my best with what I had. All I ever wanted was for us to be happy, and perhaps, in some ways I’ve failed you in that regard. But in the great big picture, look at what we have. Everyone wanted for everything, and I got it.”

“I didn’t want everything,” she said, fluttering her eyes open. It was all too much. Being there with Ruby’s dead body just down the corridor. He should have found Lizzie by that moment. Hold her, comfort her, wipe her tears. But there he stood, more upset and scared about losing Evelyn. It made her sick, a bit. That pressure and emotional burden of being her father’s favorite everything. “You should go find her…she needs you, daddy.”

His response was merely a hum. “Hm.” Evelyn couldn’t make it out. Was it an agreement? Or dismissal?

She pressed further. “I’ll miss her-”

“Yeah,” he said, offhandedly, still soaking up his daughter’s presence. “Yeah, me too.” Tommy wrapped his arms around her, feeling a bit of him fall apart when she hesitated. Flashbacks of her running in his arms warmed his heart. The only nostalgia he could hold onto. After a moment, he whispered in thought, “after it’s all done, we’ll leave.”

Evelyn nodded, pulling away, rubbing her eyes in sleep. It was nearly three in the morning at that point. Her father and her shared a very distorted idea of what healthy sleep was, among other things. “Well, you need to find Lizzie first and-”

“No,” he said, stopping her. “When we bury….” Tommy had to stop himself and think about what he was about to say, not truly believing his words. He’d hope that no one mistook his actions because he loved his youngest as he did his second. Just not nowhere near his first. He looked over at Evelyn. It was the only right thing to do. Leave. “When we bury Ruby, you and I will leave-”

“Daddy,” she groaned, closing her eyes in frustration. Had he not listened to anything she said? I’m not your fucking wife! She took a belly deep sigh, holding it as she rubbed her temples. On the exhale, she looked at him. “And leave where? You still have a wife…a son-”

“The ties are broken,” he said. “After this, there’s nothing left holding any of us together, but you and I…we can still be held together.” He reached for her delicate hand, studying the chipped manicure. “We’ll go on the caravan-”

She pulled her hand away, scoffing. “Daddy, I don’t want to go on the caravan! Don’t you understand? Any of it? I’m twenty-four years old-”

“But you love the caravan,” he argued, still seeing the little girl under it all.

“When I was eight, daddy, and everything was new,” she explained. “And when Finn was there and John and Aunty. When we’d play in the fields and looked at the stars, that’s when I liked the caravan.” Evelyn shook her head. “Daddy, what are you and I going to do in the caravan, huh? I’m twenty-four years old. I can’t possibly live with my father in a caravan!”

“But it’d be good-”

“For you?” she asked, knitting her brows. “For me? Where will I sleep? For you? I can’t give you everything you need. It isn’t normal.” Part of him knew she was right, but the other half argued. She could give him everything he needed emotionally. They already were so close all the time, that he hadn’t thought anything wrong with sleeping on the wooden floor next to the one hay filled bed. Partially because he wanted to convince himself it was alright.

He gave a nod of understanding. “Right, well,” he sighed, massaging his forehead. “Why don’t you go home and when it’s all done, we’ll talk everything over.” She nodded and he opened his arms. “C’mere, love.” Evelyn looked at his widened arms and offered a small smile before walking over, sinking into his body. Tommy held her so tight, hands rubbing her back affectionately. “I don’t believe in God, really, but if I did….” He pulled away, cupping her face with both hands, smiling softly. “I would ask him what I ever did to deserve such a wonderful little girl.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the nose. “Out of everything in my life, you were the only good decision.”

She smiled and nodded, pulling away as she straightened her bag. “I’ll meet Isaiah out front. “ When she turned, Lizzie was standing there. Her whole being was pale as a ghost. It seemed as though she cried a lifetime and couldn’t spare another second to it. Evelyn was better at words than most Shelbys. “I’m going home, I’ll prepare home for the wake.” For you don’t have to, was her reasoning, but really, she couldn’t stand still. She walked towards the door, pausing under the threshold, placing her arm on Lizzie’s shoulder. “It’s awful. It’s really awful.” The older woman couldn’t say anything. When Evelyn left, Lizzie looked at Tommy with a hollow expression. Many thoughts came rushing in. Everyone said it. Tommy Shelby would never be able to love you as long as she was there. Perhaps Grace was better at setting boundaries than she.

Lizzie walked in and took a seat, cigarette between her fingers. “Where were you?”

Tommy joined her side, taking the cigarette from her and puffing it himself. He looked over at her. “I don’t have an excuse-”

“I had to give her your kiss goodbye,” she said, drained, no emotion left. “Telling her that her father loves her just before I walk in here and I-”

“Let’s bring this home, eh?” he asked, pulling her in for his once a year affection. “Let’s grieve.”

Evie went for the main entrance where she could see the black car. Isaiah had been waiting. She didn’t know for how long, but it was definitely long enough he turned the car off. She smiled, reaching for the handle when an arm slipped between her and the door. Before she looked at the man, she studied his pressed blue suit, decorated with gold cufflinks. Her eyes traveled up his arm to his face, swallowing. She wasn’t one to involve herself with her father’s business, preferring to be distant enough, clueless enough, and safe enough. A handsome gentleman looked down at her, slight grin. She was familiar with his face, but hardly cared enough to learn a name. Probably ignorant of her seeing as though it was Gina’s uncle, famous Irish-American gangster Jack Nelson. Like Tommy Shelby, people knew him.

“Your father doesn’t give many opportunities for one to seek you alone, Miss. Shelby.” Evelyn flinched away, eying her one escape route. A lone stairwell that led back up to the main hospital area. Where her father was, probably with a gun by his side. She could also scream in hopes Isaiah would hear her. But he was a step ahead, cupping her chin and making her look at him. That smile was like a personal signature to him. “There’s no need. I thought perhaps we could take a ride, you and I-”

“Who are you?” she asked, connecting eyes, and he was nothing short of amused, introducing himself like a gentleman, hiding any evil motive. “Well, Mr. Nelson, I’m simply my father’s daughter and quite frankly, want no business with his friends. Now, if you may excuse me, I’d like to go home. It’s been an awful-”

“I’ve heard,” he interrupted, slipping his hand down to her arm. There was something sickly sweet about the way he was empathetically massaging her arm. “It’s so awful, isn’t it? Young and all.” Evelyn couldn’t remember the last time a man other than her father touched her. Though an unassuming gesture, she felt flushed by the touch. Almost like a little school girl. Jack could read her bashful expression; how her cheeks turned some shade of pink, how she averted her attention, how she acted like a small girl. He thought for a Shelby, she’d have a bit more edge. But over the years, her edge smoothened.

“Thank you, Mr. Nelson-”

“You’re very polite,” he complimented. “If you don’t mind, Miss. Shelby, can we go to my car? I’d like to have a chat with little risk of interruption-ah,” he hummed, noticing the fear in her eyes. “There is a side exit just under the stairwell…and there is no need to fear, if I wanted to kidnap you or kill you, it would have been done. Now, let’s not be silly.” She couldn’t tell you what possessed her. Was it his cool exterior? His calm voice? The gentle manner in which he touched her? But she gave one last look to the car waiting out front before following Jack Nelson to the side exit.

He wasn’t driving his car. It was an older gentleman who only said a few words when opening the door for them. As the gentleman he was, he motioned for Evelyn to go in first. Hesitantly, she looked at him before sliding across the leather seats. He joined her side. He allowed the driver to start the car and go on their way. “Just towards my home. Is that alright?” He turned to Evelyn. “It’s a little bit of a ride, but perhaps you and I will get to know each other quite well during this time. Bond a bit seeing as though we both wear Boston routes.”

“Do you live here?” she asked, trying to feel out the situation. Her hand kept a steady grip on the door handle.

“Not usually,” he said, eying her hand before reaching over her and prying it off. “No need for that. I’d hate for you to jump out of a moving car and hurt yourself. What if you get a scratch on that pretty face, hm?” He chuckled, pulling her in towards the middle. “In fact, let’s sit closer-”

“Mr. Nelson-”

“Shhh,” he hushed her.

She sighed, uncomfortably close to him. He propped one of her legs over his while one of his arms was snaked along her waist. His other hand rested on his knee. He sat relaxed, legs spread. He got so comfortable, he loosened his collar on his shirt. She swallowed the lump down and stiffly asked, “what is it exactly you want? My sister just died and I really just want to go home-”

“Mourning is an awful process, isn’t it, Miss. Shelby?” he asked, looking at her. “But it’s a process that will take a lifetime. While this chat will only take a sliver of your time.”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of annoyance. “If there is something you want, Mr. Nelson, I can’t give it to you. My father has kept me sheltered from his business. I have no access to money. I have no access to assets. I have no access to people. I’m as useless as-”

“Your grandfather was an anthropologist-archeologist,” he commented. Evelyn stiffened, looking at him with a look of worry. Evelyn was so disattached to her biological family that she couldn’t remember some of their faces. She met her grandparents only a short few times when she was five and her mother was acting normal. “Quite famous, actually. Did you know he found some rather important artifacts in what was once known as Mesopotamia? Now Iraq…it’s a bit far from here-”

“I know my geography,” she said, jaw a bit tight.

He nodded. “Well, I regret to inform you, but your grandfather has passed on and well, for a very good price, your mother has so kindly sold me some interesting pieces-ah, ah, ah…you don’t like that. Me calling her your mother?” He noticed how Evelyn went pale and her breath hitched. “It’s alright,” he whispered, rubbing her arm. “Anyway, I have to say, those pieces look rather nice in my parlor. I’ve been complimented on them.”

“What…do…you…want, Mr. Nelson?”

He chuckled, “well, you think a woman whose whored herself for nearly thirty fucking years would have learnt to be a better business woman.” It was like a switch in Evelyn’s brain. She quickly pushed at him and lunged for the door, kicking her feet as his body. But her small, weak frame was pathetic. Jack was quick to grab her. His kindness shedded slightly as he pushed her back against the seat, holding her there with a hand around her neck. “Now, now, how impolite? To think we were getting along so fucking well!” She didn’t dare protest, his hand pressed against her life. “Now, she sold those very nice furnishings under the condition that she can see you just one last time.” Evelyn’s heart sunk to her stomach, and just as she was a child, she felt her body betray her. She got sweaty, her heart pounded. She was going to lose herself and her daddy wasn’t there to save her.

“I didn’t think you were an artifact dealer, Mr. Nelson,” she said, shaking. She wiggled under him, looking at him with pleading eyes.

He eased his grip. “Me either, but the money is attractive. There are plenty of people willing to pay me quite a nice price for them. Now, she’s at home-ah, ah, ah. No need to panic. Shhhhhh.” He moved his hand from her throat, rubbing her cheek. “You don’t like mommy, do you, Evie?” She broke loose on the inside, and spilled on the outside as she choked on her tears. She shook as all the childhood trauma she thought she solved slowly seeped back up. “Hmmm, it’s so sad-”

“Mr. Nelson, please,” she begged, closing her eyes. Her chin twitched like a child’s. “Don’t make me-”

Jack pulled out a wrinkled black and white, yellow tinted photo. There were so very few pictures of Evelyn as a child. Tommy had a single photo. There, in Jack’s hands, was her mother’s photo of her that she kept in her handbag. “It’s so sad how someone could be so evil to a little child…Look how fucking cute you were? Wonder why you’re so adored…favorited.” She stared at the photo, observing how little Evie was smiling. Her curls were so thick then. “How she treated you-”

“I don’t think about it-”

“The abuse,” he continued. “I’d hate her, too, if I was you-”

“I feel nothing,” she said, trying to convince more than just him.

“How she’d work as you slept in the same bed.” How did he know all of this? She closed her eyes, trying to block him out, but he wouldn’t stop. “Left you with whores, for days unfed and uncleaned. Hair littered with lice…I couldn’t imagine the pain you felt, crying for a mother who never showed you an ounce of love.”

She took a deep breath, her chest tightening, wheezing. “Just stop…just please stop-”

“And that one time when you thought she bought a pretty dress for a party, but really, it wasn’t for you, was it? That pretty dress. It was green with white lace trimming.” He continued to retell her story, but Evelyn slowly started to sink into a hole of darkness, her mind swirling with memories of her childhood. Her mother was to make nice money that night. It was chicken money. Enough food for a few days. Evelyn remembered walking into a room, her mother’s hands on her back and an unfamiliar man sitting on her bed. Distinctively, she remembered the look on the man’s face…it morphed into something so evil, Evelyn swore she saw the Devil. Her mother left her alone in that room, locking the door from the outside.

“I never worn a green dress since,” she whispered, lip trembling.

“But he saved you,” he said. “There was knock-”

“On the door, but he didn’t wait for her to answer. He walked in,” she said, continuing the story of how Tommy Shelby saved her from the Devil. Her nails dug into her skin, trying to keep herself calm. “He heard me and the man talking…I was so innocent. And he, he…he pushed my mother-”

“Into the stove,” Jack interrupted. “Your mother still has that scar on her forearm where the hot kettle burnt her-”

“He rushed into the room…my dress was slipping from my shoulders. But the world stopped when he came in. He studied the man for so long before grabbing me and covering me with his wool coat. We went home and he told Aunty Polly to watch me…that he had business to do. I remember hearing the first click of a gun…I remember seeing a gun for the first time-”

“Do you know what he did to that man?” he asked.

“What do you want with me, Mr. Nelson. I’ve asked you and you’ve only caused me to-”

“I told you,” he corrected her. “I said, that she wants to see you-”

“And I don’t want to.”

“Right,” he nodded, handing her his red handkerchief. “Or, if you’d like, I can end her, but debts don’t pay themselves, Miss. Shelby.” Evelyn shot him a look of confusion. “Oh, like you haven’t thought about her end-”

“I’m not like that-”

“Well, then a family reunion would be very nice, wouldn’t it?” When she questioned what use he’d have of them meeting, he said, “none at all, but I do have good use of putting you in my debt. If I end her, whether or not you agree to it, I’ll put you on my books. And there is only one way to remove yourself.” He positioned her once again half on his lap, helping her clean her face, mumbling how she was a pretty girl. “Just a shame your father has such an unhealthy way of parenting. Poor girl, you probably hardly ever had a night out to yourself in the last few years.” When he was done, he put the handkerchief in his pocket. “I have a nephew…Irish blooded like yourself.” Evie slowly widened her eyes. “Before you object, I’ll have you know, he’s handsome and,” he paused, grinning. “Large cocks run in the family-”

Evie stopped him right there. “So, you are going to kill her then hold me to a debt I never asked to be a part of? And that debt is to…what? Fuck your nephew? Mr. Nelson, I’m not going-”

“Come on, Evelyn,” he whined mockingly. “You’re beautiful. You’re unmarried, no kids….Who will you have to share your father’s assets with when the brain tumor takes over, huh? When he’s gone-”

“B-brain t-tumor,” Evelyn stuttered, a thump in her chest. What tumor?

“You know you’re your father’s favorite,” he continued, ignoring her disheveled, frazzled state. She clung to him, nails digging into his blue suit sleeve. “Your sister is dead…Miss. Stark has filed for a divorce. What do you think you inherited compared to, what’s his name? Charlie? You know that you got that house, that land, those five cars…all that money. Never mind the business and the horses. Wouldn’t it be nice to share it with someone? C’mon, sweetheart, a Boston-Irish girl like you deserves to reconnect with her roots-”

“Take me the fuck home!” She snapped.

“Then make a deal-”

“I’ll see her then take me home.”

That’s when he grinned. “How do you know that she isn’t already dead and the deal hasn’t already been made? Hm?” Evelyn narrowed her eyes and raised her hand to slap him, when he caught it. Looking at his driver, he said, “take her home.”

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pedropascallme · 1 year ago

Note

u said u are always looking for a reason to write jim smut so let me deliver bc i’m actually so fixated on this movie it’s CRAZYYY!!!!! anyways i would like like a build up to a confession kind of? like there’s so so much romantic and sexual tension and it just like breaks and yeah😭😭 idk if that makes any sense but yk!! ok thank u so much!!! you are amazing dude

In Our Perfect Present Tense

Pairing: Jim x f!Reader

Summary: "And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?"

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v, fingering, praise kink, Jim can be soft!dom if I say so!! Allusions to canon typical violence, I know Cillian Murphy is 5'8 but Jim is 6'2 in my mind, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: Max you make my heart go badumbadumbadumbadum (good) I hope this is to your liking <3 Also continuing to cross tag my Cillian fics because my Jim fics rarely gain traction so we are trying some METHODS.

The cottage was so quiet.

You could hear Hannah shift under the blanket and sigh in her sleep, and though seeing her so peaceful made you feel a pang of protectiveness, watching her chest rise and fall, your mind was elsewhere. Maybe you were still in London, or Manchester, or anywhere else; maybe this was all fake and you had died somewhere along the way. Was this Heaven? Or maybe Purgatory, given that nothing seemed to have changed much.

And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?

No. You closed your eyes and his face flashed across your mind; eyes you wanted to drown in and cheekbones sharp enough to make you bleed. Maybe that’s why you kept him around in the first place. You’d never had to help him, save him from the congregation that chased him down the road; never had to take him to your hideout in the underground. At first, (and you knew this for a fact, at least) it was simply because Mark…bored you. He was cheesy and had a chip on his shoulder, and you didn’t like how he looked at you—didn’t like that he seemed to expect you to fall in love with him. Jim made a good buffer. And it helped that he had such kind eyes that seemed to be full of fear and morbid curiosity, and that he was, in every sense of the word, pretty.

You hadn’t been sad when you’d had to kill Mark.

But once you had made it clear to Jim that you didn’t want to fall in love with him, either, your snap judgement fogging your mind, you thought that was the end of it. Thought maybe he would go out like Mark did. And was it really your fault that Jim assumed you didn’t care about him? You didn’t. You wanted him to think you didn’t. Wanted him to think that he was essentially on his own when you ran up the stairs to the top floor, with his head splitting in pain and your legs going as fast as they could carry you. But when he came up to you that night to apologize to you, thank you, hold out an olive branch, it was then you realized that you felt isolated. And, yes, doomsday will do that to you, but it wasn’t just that. It was that even when humanity was rearing its ugly head, Jim still had the time to recognize and respect you; he was willing to put you first in a way nobody would’ve done even if their life didn’t depend on it.

You felt so guilty that night, touching yourself under the covers with everybody else just a few rooms over.

It was one thing to be wandering around the desolate city with him as your only company, but once you had Frank and Hannah (and a car) you felt like maybe, just maybe, there was hope. There was a glimmer of something behind Jim’s eye when you were eating out on the countryside after ransacking the supermarket—and it could’ve been the way the light was hitting him, or the way he laughed with Hannah, or the fact that he was eating fruit for the first time in weeks, but you thought maybe it had something to do with you. Maybe he had figured out that you did care. About him and about the state of things and about what the hell you would do if there was any sort of relief from running away. You thought about kissing him then, and he might’ve, too. There was a certain tenderness in the way he curled up next to you that night, under the stars.

In another life, he might’ve done it for reasons other than keeping warm.

And then, of course, that all came crashing down. It had been too good to be true, and in retrospect you hated yourself for allowing any harm to come to your small posse. You got out alive, but the hope you had was minimal, at best. Was alive good enough anymore? Was alive good enough when you’d fought off every evil you could think of in the span of 12 hours?

No. It wasn’t until Jim turned around, soaking wet and bleeding, that you realized that being alive was no good if he wasn’t there with you to enjoy it. You’d wanted to wrap yourself in him, to feel the sweat and blood caked on his chest and kiss him until you lost consciousness. Instead, you crumpled to the floor in the red dress that had been forced upon you, hugging yourself to his shins and begging him to tell you he was ok. It was mortifying, only made slightly more bearable when Hannah lobbed a bottle over his head. At least you knew there was still humor to be found in the worst of situations.

Shortly thereafter, when Jim got shot, you were certain that it was all over; you might as well follow him out. Maybe you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Hannah crying silently next to you as she floored the gas and begged you to stay. To do something. For once you felt like you had people worth fighting for other than yourself. It made you dizzy.

Which brought you back to the present.

There were two rooms in the cottage; both were damp and smelled like the lint from a dryer, but having a bed was enough. You had discussed the sleeping situation the night of your arrival, and there had only been some mild bickering.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. S’ok.” Jim remained gentlemanly throughout, but it was apparent, to you, at least, that the person with the bullet hole through their stomach should be able to sleep comfortably.

“Hannah and I will take one, you’ll take the other.” You were blunt, dancing around the subject of who would end up sharing by deciding then and there to divide it based on sex.

“Wha—” Hannah began to protest before deciding to shut her mouth.

“It’s really not that big a deal,” Jim stood his ground, “I’ll find something to rest on.”

“Absolutely not.” And that’s where you ended it. Saving face, dismissing any deeper urges, leaving no time for Hannah or Jim to propose a different arrangement.

But now that you were somewhat settled, it felt wrong to be in this room. The wallpaper was a reflective pink, and it felt too bright even in the pitch-black night. You couldn’t get comfortable, and all you could do was mull over every past interaction you’d had with Jim. Every interaction, and the way his mouth moved when he spoke, and the way he smiled at you, and the way he had quite literally killed for you—nearly been killed for you.

You felt hot. Nauseous, even, to the point where you felt that you had to move around or take a walk or do anything to feel more at ease. But it just so happened that you felt the most at ease around Jim.

You tiptoed across the floor and into the hallway. You almost didn’t bother knocking on the door, but felt that you at least owed him that decency.

“C’m’in.”

You peered into the room, allowing yourself a small view of Jim’s shirtless figure splayed out on the bed. You smiled, feeling shy out of nowhere.

“Just wanted to check on you.” You excused yourself, not wanting him to think it any more odd than it already was for you to be in his doorway at midnight. “You feeling ok?”

“Better than ever.” Jim crossed his arms behind his head, sitting up against the pillows. You could see the bandage on his abdomen, and his skin covered in a ray of moonlight.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, patting the mattress to encourage you to sit with him. You closed the door behind you. “Why’re you really up?”

“Honestly?” You paused to build tension, leaning in slightly, “Hannah snores.” Jim chuckled under his breath. “And…and I don’t really feel at home in that room.”

“Would you feel more at home in this one?”

“Maybe…”

“’Cause if you’d like it, you and Hannah could have it. ‘V’always wanted pink wallpaper, anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, “No, that’s—it’s not that.”

“Then…?” Jim tilted his head slightly, and you looked down and away from him, inhaling deeply.

“Can I stay in here tonight? With—with you?” You could feel your pulse in your throat and though he responded almost immediately, you felt as though hours were passing.

“Sure, f’course.” Jim nodded; eyes wide with eager bewilderment. You swing your legs over the mattress, straightening yourself out beside him. You looked up at the ceiling, lying on your back and waiting to fall asleep.

“Closer.” Jim whispered.

“Hm?”

“Y’can come closer. If you want, I mean.”

“Oh…yeah.” You shuffled closer to him. Somehow you ended up spooning, his hand draped hesitantly over your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and his breath blowing against the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Comfortable?” He was still whispering, as if he would wake the crickets if he spoke any louder.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah…” You both fell silent again, and you wondered if he could feel the tension, too, or if it was something you had just made up. You turned over to face him.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, though his eyes were closed, and you thought maybe he had already fallen asleep.

“For what?” His eyes were still closed when he responded.

“For—you know…” You reached out to graze your fingertips over his bandages, withdrawing it just as quickly when you realized that what you were doing was so forward.

“You didn’t shoot me.”

“I didn’t stop you from getting shot.”

“Not much you could’ve done. Three of us and more of them.” He opened his eyes, “Plus, you drugged Hannah, so just the two of us, really.”

You buried your face into the pillow, “Was trying to help.”

“You did.” Jim reached out to goad you from your hiding spot. “Been nothing but helpful since I met you. Consider this me returning the favor.” You managed to peek an eye out from the pillow to look at him smiling at you. He was so gentle. How could a man who had been comatose while the world was thrown into shambles remain so empathetic?

“Didn’t want you to get hurt.” You mumbled, barely audible when the words came out through the pillow.

“Didn’t want you to get hurt, either. Think I went to all that trouble for myself?”

“No.” You brought your head up to fully look at him.

“Exactly. You would’ve done the same for me.”

“You say that with so much confidence.”

“Cause it’s true. Cocky, but it’s true.”

“It is.”

“True?”

“Cocky,” you smiled when he feigned defeat, “but also true.” You quieted again, keeping eye contact with one another. Jim’s smile faded slightly.

“Why did you help me?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In the first place, by the gas station—why did you help me?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “I needed the company.”

“You had company.”

“I needed company I would enjoy.”

“What if I wasn’t enjoyable?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I was willing to take that risk.” You raised an eyebrow back at him, mocking his curiosity and his pushback. “And…I mean, plus, you were…I d’know. Tragic. And pretty.”

“Pretty?” His other eyebrow shot up.

“And tragic.” You giggled. “It’s not like I saw you tearing down the street screaming and thought that you only deserved help ‘cause you were good looking, it was just—it’s why I kept you around.” You rolled your eyes, trying to stop yourself from sounding too sincere, unsure if Jim was willing to recognize the attraction you had toward him. Unsure of whether or not you were willing to admit it right here, right now.

“You liked me.” Jim teased.

“I like you,” you clarified, “Present tense.” You averted your eyes from his gaze, opting instead to look down at his wound once more. He gawked at you, grinning. Placing a hand on your chin, he redirected your gaze to his face.

“How long have you been holding out on me?”

“What?”

“How long’ve you been wanting to say that? Not since day one, hm? Since we went to my parents’ house?”

“Didn’t want to say it,” you huffed, “wanted to help you stay alive.”

“C’mon, all that talk about how you didn’t care if I fell in love with you? Cared more than you let on, I knew it. Could’ve saved us so much time if you just came out with it.”

“Shush.” You tried not to dwell on his words, the realization that, this whole time, he was waiting for you.

“Say it again.” He gleamed, “say it again.”

You took his hand from your face, holding it in your own. “Jim,” you brought his hand to your chest, “I like you.”

You couldn’t take a breath before he was on you. You felt his lips first, plush against your own, and then his hands over your waist and his legs tangling with yours. For someone who had almost bled out less than a week ago, he was shockingly quick on his feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the release of weeks’ worth of tension that had been festering inside of you when his tongue slipped between your lips. You moaned, hands grabbing at any part of him you could reach: You felt his chest against your own and ran a trail down his spine with a finger, feeling him shiver at your touch. He ground his hips into you slightly and you reached for his arms, pulling him in as close as you possibly could.

“Knew it.” He whispered when you pulled away for air. “Knew it.” He began sucking on your neck, running his tongue over your pulse point and licking stripes down your throat. You gasped at the feeling, still trying to touch him wherever you could. You found yourself stroking his jawline while he sucked bruises onto your chest, feeling the way his cheeks hollowed when he made an especially strong mark.

“Jim—” You pleaded, trying to touch him, feel him, all around needing him. It was almost all too much.

He returned to eye level. “Mm?” He kissed your neck again, soothing over the fresh hickeys. “Tell me what you need.”

“You—need you.”

“C’mon,” his grin returned, “specifics.”

“Please,” you needed to feel everything, everywhere, “fuck me.”

“God, sounds so pretty coming out of that mouth.” He stood up from the mattress, pulling you up slightly to allow him to disrobe you. It didn’t take much effort; the threadbare clothes you were trying to pass off as pajamas had already practically disintegrated the moment you had put them on. He shucked his bottoms off before retaking his place on top of you in bed.

“So fucking beautiful,” he kissed you again, “so, so pretty. Wanted to make you feel so good f’so long.”

Feeling confident, you cupped his cheek in your palm, “touched myself thinking about this.”

“F—when? Thought about me while you touched yourself? Tell me.” It was a breathless demand, and you could feel his erection throbbing above you.

“The night in the apartment. Came on my fingers, came so hard while I thought of how good you’d fuck me—oh!” Your sexy display was cut short when you felt his fingers brush your clit.

“Yeah? Touched right here and thought of how nice I’d fuck this pussy?” You whimpered at the way he massaged you just right, and his words only added fuel to the fire. “Should’ve just asked me to take care of you, baby, would’ve helped.” God, he was wicked. Such a good man, and so, so wicked for speaking to you like this. You arched your back, and he took the opportunity to slide two fingers into your cunt. “Fuck,” he huffed, delighted by how wet you were for him, and your eyes rolled back, “get yourself this wet? Or is it just me?”

“You, fuck, Jim—it’s you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Cocky bastard.” You managed between whines and gasps.

“You love it.” He continued to push his fingers in and out of you, and a delightful squelching noise filled the bedroom. “Fucking beautiful.” He kept at it for a while longer, enjoying the noises you made for him and the way your face contorted when he hit an especially sensitive spot. When he pulled his fingers from you, you sighed, feeling the low of being empty, until he brought the wet digits to your mouth and encouraged you to clean them off for him. He let out a low groan when you began sucking, using your tongue to gather your slick off from in between them. “Yeah, good girl.”

He slotted himself between your thighs, and you could feel the drag of his cock over your stomach. You looked down, wrapping a hand around him and ogling him; so long, so beautifully outlined by thick veins. He gently grasped your wrist, pushing your hand back onto the mattress.

“Wanna make this last.” He half-joked. He kept your arm pinned under him, and you could feel his tip exploring your folds, until finally he pushed himself into you. You let out a shaky, breathless moan as he shallowly thrusted into you, working you open to take him as deep as you could. When he bottomed out, he leaned his forehead against yours, and you could feel the stickiness of sex and sweat on your skin.

“Good, yeah?” He was still being smug, though ensuring you were comfortable. You felt devious, rolling your hips against him and grinning in response, earning a choked “fuck” from him. “Dirty fucking girl.” He pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back into you, forcefully enough that you felt your back drag against the bed. Your tits bounced as he rocked his hips into you, and he took the opportunity to grab one in his hand, taking the other in his mouth.

“Jim!” You couldn’t remember your own name, could barely remember who you were or how you got here; all you could think was Jim, Jim, Jim. “Fu—uck, oh my god, Jim!”

“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood?” He was incapable of being serious even in the most intimate of moments, knowing full well that the people in this house were the only living souls for miles. “Gonna make sure everybody knows who’s fucking you?” Your lips parted, letting out small moans and whimpers of his name with every thrust.

You could feel his fingers on your clit again, and the feeling was electric; maybe it was because you had wanted him for so long, and tried to deny it for almost as long, but you’d never felt this good—never felt this perfectly sated. The way he kneaded your swollen bud while pounding into you hard enough to make the bedframe shake, the way he whispered such filthy things into the skin of your breasts, the way he wanted you too.

“Gonna—Jim, I’m gonna cum!” You tried to move in sync with him, but it was all too much; he was everywhere, and it was going to be your undoing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to fuck you deeper. He leaned over you, tracing his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your face in one hand.

“Cum for me, baby. So good, my perfect girl, cum on my cock like this.” You were as good as gone. You felt your legs tighten around his body at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. You dug your nails into the skin of his arm, and he growled at the way your body responded to him. “Yeah, like that—just like that, sweetheart.”

You were trembling, dripping down his cock and unsure of how to rationalize this amount of pleasure in the midst of end times. Who cared, anyway? You felt fuzzy, barely registering Jim’s words as his strokes became messier and rushed, catching up to you with his own high.

“Want it inside,” you mumbled through your haze, “please, inside.”

“Can’t fucki—can’t say that baby, can’t risk it.”

“Please…” You knew how stupid it was, knew that he would have to say no, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“When we get out of England—when we get out of England, I’ll fill you up as much as you want. Yeah?” He slammed himself into you, and his words bounced around inside of your head: “When we get out,” “as much as you want.” If you weren’t so spent, you’d cum for him again from that statement alone. “Promise I will, whenever you want it, baby.”

“Mm.” You sighed contentedly at his assurance. “Tummy.”

“Yeah, good girl, gonna paint you with my cum.” He groaned when you reached up to brush your fingers down his happy trail.

“Give it to me. Please, Jim. Needed it f’so long.” Your mouth hung open, sensitive and sore from his cock and his hands, and somehow still so needy for him, desperate to see him to completion. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and letting your moans fill his ears as his hips stuttered and he pulled out. You felt his knuckles against your stomach as he stroked himself, finally feeling the warmth of his spend land and spread across your abdomen with a long moan of your name. You stayed like that, both of you breathing heavily, Jim lying on top of you. The gluey feeling of his cum on your stomach and your own between your thighs only heightened when he sat up on his elbow, looking down at you to appreciate how pretty you looked after being fucked out, and you could see the strands of cum dripping between your bodies.

“So beautiful.” He kissed you again, and despite the passion from the last kisses still being present, he was significantly gentler with you in your bleary state.

You blinked up at him, smiling through the fog in your brain, and hugging him close to you. “Gonna have to change your bandages. Covered in your own cum.”

“But what a way to go, right?” He laughed, and you buried your face into him further. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “Need a towel?”

“Would it be gross to sleep like this?”

“Gross? No. Uncomfortable? Maybe.”

“I’ll take my chances. Too tired to wash off.”

“As long as you’re alright.” He brushed your hair away from your eyes, maneuvering himself to look down at you while you were pressed to his chest.

“Feel amazing.” You reassured him. “Should’ve said something earlier.”

“No,” Jim pet your hair, smoothing it down over the back of your head, “this was perfect timing.”

“Perfect timing.” You murmured his words back to him in agreement.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #28 days later fanfiction #jim 28 days later #28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #28 days later jim x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut

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imaginefan · 8 months ago

Text

Buried In Work

Jeremy Gilbert X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 953

Requested: Anon

Request: Can you write something about reader she looses herself and drowns herself in things she knows she shouldn't be cause she loses her family and Jeremy tries to save her from ruining her life cause he's in love with her ? One shot story. Thank you in advance.

You and Jeremy had been friends since you had met in school, you helped him through everything with his parents and you never questioned him for his methods of coping only made sure that he was safe, when he decided to give it up you helped him with that as well, provided him with ways to distract himself and get through the withdrawal period. Through that time Jeremy started to notice something about you, you threw yourself head first into everything without a thought for what you were already doing or how this was going to affect you.

Jeremy hated it, over the years he had fallen for you, with everything that you had done to help him he had started to rely on you in a way that he hadn’t managed with very many other people. Now it was his turn to help you with the little problem that you had. You were in your last year of school the same as Jeremy and while you were trying to study the supernatural world would not wait.

Jeremy was laying on your bed holding a book over his head, not that he was actually reading anything, it was only a few moments later that your phone started ringing, you picked it up within seconds and he waited watching as you greeted the person on the other end of the phone “Hey Bonnie, what’s up?” You asked, you were silent for a second. “When?” You nodded to whatever you were hearing and then scribbled something down on your already filled diary. “Yeah, that’s fine, I’ll let you know if anything changes.” “What was that?” Jeremy asked. “Bonnie was just asking if I could help her with the prep for Elena’s birthday.” You answered as you crossed out something and rewrote it somewhere else with a question mark next to it. “When?” He asked. “Tomorrow.” You answered. “Don’t you have an appointment tomorrow?” Jeremy asked. “Yeah I think I can move it though.” You answered and that explained what you had crossed out and moved around in your diary. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” He said as you looked at him and waved him off. “It’s fine I promise this is the last time that I’ll move it.” You said and he sighed.

The next day, Jeremy had a few things that he needed to do that day to prepare for Elena’s party but as the day pulled to an end he decided to drop by your place and make sure that you were okay. When he got to your place he realised that you weren’t there, easily figuring out where you still were. Jeremy made his way to Bonnie’s house to find you still here helping her with a few things, Jeremy knocked on the door, Bonnie opening it she smiled when she saw him “Is (Y/N) still here?” He asked. “Yeah she’s here.” Bonnie answered “you come to take her home?” “Mmm.” Jeremy hummed. “Is that Elena’s gift? Do you want to leave it here, the party will be happening here anyway.” Bonnie explained, Jeremy nodded, handing her the gift before following her in, you were sitting on the sofa, handwriting the invites for the party. You had decided that the best way to make sure that the party goes off without a hitch was to have a spell on the house meaning that the only way that someone could actually get in would be to have the invitations that you were writing, you had hoped to have them done earlier but it was taking far longer than you had expected. “It’s late, you know.” Jeremy said softly as he stood in front of you. “I know but I still have a few more to write.” You answered. “You can finish them some other time or Bonnie can finish them, you know the party isn’t until the end of the week.” Jeremy explained “I’m sure that you have a lot to do tomorrow.” “Yeah I guess.” You answered. “I can write the rest of them (Y/N) don’t worry.” Bonnie spoke up from behind him, Jeremy turned silently, thanking her and crouching in front of you. “Let’s go.” He said softly.

The walk back to your place was quiet, you didn’t seem to want to talk, Jeremy assumed that you were tired but when you got home he noticed that there was something wrong “what’s wrong?” He asked. “I should have finished everything.” You answered. “I woke up late and then didn’t get there on time, it would have been finished if I had got there on time.” “You woke up late because you're trying to do too much, it’s not your fault that you're tired and honestly Bonnie didn’t need you to write those invites.” Jeremy said as you looked at him, he gently took your hands and smiled “you did a lot today, despite everything, you keep pushing yourself through and burying yourself in work, you’ve done it since we were kids, I think you're in need of some time for yourself.” “Don’t have time.” You answered childishly. “We can make time, the rest of the week we’ll get everything done, we’ll go to Elena’s party and then I’ll make sure that you are unbothered while you take some time for yourself.” He explained “they can get on without you for a couple of days.” “Us… Without us.” You corrected it. “Alright, us. They can get on without us.” He promised. While Jeremy hadn’t actually told you how he felt about you, he hoped that he could help you feel a little better, maybe a confession can come later, when you were both ready for a relationship.

Requests and general question!

#the vampire diaries one shot #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagines #jeremy gilbert imagine #jeremy gilbert one shot #jeremy gilbert #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #female reader

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goodnightmemes · 2 years ago

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KNIVES OUT (2019) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Anything you need. You’re part of this family. ❜

❛ Kids today, with the internet. It’s amazing. ❜

❛ I read a tweet about a New Yorker article about you. ❜

❛ I’m here at the behest of a client. ❜

❛ You will find me a respectful, quiet, passive observer of the truth. ❜

❛ Are you baiting me? ❜

❛ You think I am dumb enough to be baited into talking family business. ❜

❛ This is not how I wanted to have this conversation. ❜

❛ He’s always been the black sheep of the family. ❜

❛ Are you, goddamn, insane? ❜

❛ You tell her or I will! ❜

❛ I know it’ll hurt, but it’s all for the best. ❜

❛ I expect it’s going to be about something, if not extraordinary, then at least interesting. ❜

❛ Does having a kind heart make you a good nurse? ❜

❛ Just the thought of lying, yeah, it makes me puke. ❜

❛ Have you seen her insta? She’s an influencer. ❜

❛ Can I wait inside? I feel like I shouldn’t be here. ❜

❛ So, somebody suspects foul play. ❜

❛ It makes no damn sense. Compels me though. ❜

❛ I don’t know why we keep going over this. ❜

❛ Physical evidence can tell a clear story with a forked tongue. ❜

❛ Can you just take your goddamn medicine and go to bed? ❜

❛ You really love drama, huh? ❜

❛ Why can’t I beat you at this game? ❜

❛ Such a bad loser you are. ❜

❛ There’s so much of me in that kid. ❜

❛ Playing life like a game without consequence, until you can’t tell the difference between a stage prop and a real knife. ❜

❛ I don’t fear death. ❜

❛ I don’t fear death. But, oh God, I’d like to fix some of this before I go. ❜

❛ Hey. You had a long day. You wanna do drugs? ❜

❛ I messed up. ❜

❛ You know, this is an interesting and efficient method of murder. I need to write this down. ❜

❛ There is no time, you have to listen! ❜

❛ If what you said is true, I’m gone, there’s no saving me. ❜

❛ But you have to do exactly what I tell you. ❜

❛ Will you do this? This last thing. For me. ❜

❛ What do you want me to do? ❜

❛ It sounds crazy, but it will work. ❜

❛ Don’t lie. Tell fragments of the truth. ❜

❛ I keep waiting for the big reveal, where it all makes sense. Wouldn’t that be nice? ❜

❛ Jesus, I’m gonna disappear until the politics talk is done. ❜

❛ Something is afoot with this whole affair. I know it, and I believe you know it too. ❜

❛ I trust your kind heart. ❜

❛ Be it cruel or comforting, this machine unerringly arrives at the truth. ❜

❛ You do as I say and everything will be just fine. ❜

❛ Best judge of character is a dog. ❜

❛ I don’t feel like talking. I’m distraught. ❜

❛ People grieve in different ways. ❜

❛ I don’t know what any of that means. ❜

❛ Now, you heard something. Spill it. ❜

❛ Maybe this might finally make you grow up. ❜

❛ This might be the best thing that could ever happen to you. ❜

❛ Nothing good is ever easy. ❜

❛ Up your ass. ❜

❛ Matter of fact - eat shit, how’s that? ❜

❛ The game is afoot, eh Watson? ❜

❛ Please accept it with grace and without bitterness. But do accept it. ❜

❛ You little bitch! ❜

❛ Did you know about this? Were you in this from the beginning? ❜

❛ Were you boinking my father? ❜

❛ In the meantime I’d maybe run. ❜

❛ I’m not on Twitter anymore. ❜

❛ You look like you’re gonna pass out. Have you eaten anything today? ❜

❛ I know I shouldn’t say this out loud, but when he told me, I… Jesus, I coulda killed him. ❜

❛ You asshole. ❜

❛ Tell me everything. ❜

❛ There is much that remains unclear. ❜

❛ I suspect foul play. ❜

❛ I have eliminated no suspects. ❜

❛ You’ve come this far. Let me help you go all the way. ❜

❛ What’s going on? This isn’t you. ❜

❛ You should do whatever you think is right. ❜

❛ You have to make things right. ❜

❛ I want you to know I’m gonna take care of you. ❜

❛ You lay low for a couple of days. Wait for this investigation to blow over, and it will. ❜

❛ Are we rich? ❜

❛ Why is grief the providence of youth? ❜

❛ I’d imagine that age deepens all feelings. Including grief. ❜

❛ One thing I assume of age is weariness. Damned if I don’t get more tired every day. ❜

❛ I think you have something you wanna tell me. ❜

❛ I don’t like any of this. ❜

❛ What kind of blackmail scheme is this? ❜

❛ You regret helping me yet? ❜

❛ Oh my God. I’m just pure adrenaline right now, I feel like I swallowed bees. ❜

❛ That was the dumbest car chase of all time. ❜

❛ Strange case from the start. ❜

❛ Listen, I don’t know what you want. Whatever it is, we can work it out. ❜

❛ I don’t want any more surprises. ❜

❛ God, you’re not much of a detective, are you? ❜

❛ You make a pretty lousy murderer. ❜

❛ You’re a pack of vultures at the feast. ❜

❛ Is anybody else confused? ❜

❛ I’m so sorry. I told them everything, I figured it was up. I’m sorry. ❜

❛ You shared a love of twisting the knife into one another. ❜

❛ I’m warning you! ❜

❛ You won’t get away with this. ❜

❛ A twisted web. And we are not finished untangling it. Not yet. ❜

❛ This is stoopid with two o’s. ❜

❛ You don’t have a shred of evidence. You’re just spinning a fairy tale. ❜

❛ In for a penny, in for a pound. ❜

❛ I knew you were a no good son of a bitch! ❜

❛ And then you’ll see just how much hell I can wreak on your life. ❜

❛ You vicious little bitch! ❜

❛ What the shit!? ❜

❛ I want you to remember something that’s very important: you won not by playing the game his way, but yours. ❜

❛ You’re a good person. ❜

❛ I have my own opinion. But I have a feeling you’ll follow your heart. ❜

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #rp prompt #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #sentence starter meme #rp memes #rp prompts #*movie

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avatarmerida · 10 months ago

Text

Truth & Love

I had this idea awhile ago and I’ve been working on it in the background and I’ve been stuck on it writing so I tried. I had trouble ending it so don’t come for me I wanted fluff k bye 💚💛

———

Before, Willow absolutely dreaded potions class.

Her magic thrived when it could tap into her emotions but potions required a precision and exact measurements that Willow found tiresome. Eda had tried to help her improve, but Eda’s ‘measure with your heart’ method was best done by someone who had mastered and then evolved the subject, not by someone who had a hard enough time focusing without Boscha dropping things into her vial when she wasn’t looking. She always second guessed herself and potions were often time sensitive, which didn’t help improve her confidence.

But then when they were finally able to return to Hexisde she was much better at believing in herself. Not to mention Hunter was in her potions class and Hunter had never had trouble believing in Willow.

Of course they were partners, there was no question about it. The moment the teacher had uttered the words “pair up” he had teleported beside her without even thinking about it. How odd that just last year she was everyone’s last pick and now well truthfully she didn’t care about where she was on anyone else’s list because she’d choose Hunter’s everytime.

Hunter had a decent knowledge of potions, but Willow would pick him even if he had never touched a potion in his life.They worked well together; Hunter loved to sort the different ingredients and he allowed Willow the honor of mixing them. They were a great team, although honestly Willow cared less about her improved grade and just wanted an excuse to spend more time with him. Her studies revolved around getting to sit close to him and watch the cute way Hunter furrowed his eyebrows when he reviewed measurements.

“Okay, wait,” said Hunter as he counted the vials in front of him. “I usually sort them by colors but I might’ve mixed up the milled orc wing and obsidian dust because when they’re liquidized they have a very similar color.”

“Oh, which one smells more sour? That should be the orc wing,” said Willow. She watched as Hunter cautiously sniffed the first one and his face instantly contorted in disgust. She giggled as she took the ingredient from him and added it to their assignment.

“I hope the soaked rosemary can dilute that because otherwise I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep that down,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Hey, I had to do the hair growth potion,” Willow reminded him. “And that one was spicy, and not in a good way.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said with a smile. Hunter had offered to cut her hair back to its original length after and had unintentionally gotten distracted and had ended up cutting it much shorter. He had felt terribly guilty but Willow ended up loving it and decided to keep it. The cut was still fairly fresh and Willow loved flipping it and feeling how light it and easier it curled at the ends. The distraction was fairly familiar, as watching her joyfully exist was part of what caused him to cut her hair so short in the first place.

“Okay, which do I add first?” Willow asked as Hunter went back to the book.

“Ummm, hold on the pages are stuck together,” said Hunter as he attempted to delicately separate them. “I don’t think it matters as long as it’s still boiling.”

“Okie doke,” said Willow, sticking out her tongue as she focused on not spilling a drop. “Oh thorns, I think I added too much.”

They were supposed to be making a potion to change the drinker's hair color and according to the book it was supposed to be a dark turquoise but Willow simply could not manage to balance the color to match the picture.

“Hmmm,” observed Hunter. “It looks close. Add the orc wing and see if that’s the missing part.”

Willow obliged and the potion color changed slightly, but Willow still couldn’t tell if it was getting closer to the photo.

“Hmmm, whaddya think?” Willow asked her partner. “You ready for a taste test?”

“Okay, but if I don’t look good with red hair, you’ll tell me right?” Hunter joked as he went to take the glass container from her, swirling it like it was a fine wine.

“Absolutely not,” she smiled back, secretly expecting him to look handsome as ever.

“Fine,” said Hunter, having grown more comfortable with this type of joking. “Then just promise me you won’t find a new potions partner if I decide to keep it red?”

“That I can promise,” she said, scrunching her nose as Hunter brought the concoction to his lips. He took a gentle sip and didn’t look immediately repulsed, but Willow could tell the taste was not what he knew it was supposed to be.

“Is it minty?” she asked.

“Not really?”

“Darn it, it’s supposed to be minty,” said Willow. “Is it almost minty?”

“I’m not sure?” he chuckled. “What does ‘almost minty’ taste like?”

“Hmm, I think if you have to ask then the answer is ‘no,’” Willow sighed. “I think the issue is the potion is supposed to be blue-green and this is more green-blue. And your hair is still the same, so we didn’t get it yet. But wait, then what did we make?”

She flipped the pages, looking for something similar or a cheat but saw that the pages were still sticking together which could be the reason the potion did not line up. None of the ingredients were toxic, so Willow knew she didn’t poison him. But it was rare for a mixture with this many components to have no side effects.

“Hmmm, what other potions do you know are this shade of green?” Willow asked as she tapped her pen on the table. Before, she’d chalk this mistake up to an F, but now she had someone to work through it with her.

“None come to mind immediately,” said Hunter as he pulled out another book. “But I think the prettiest shade of green is the one of your eyes.”

Willow froze, certain she had misheard him. “Huh?”

“Your eyes,” repeated Hunter. “They’re a beautiful shade of green, like gemstones or new leaves. They sparkle when you’re happy, and your glasses make them seem even brighter.”

“Oh,” said Willow, somewhat taken back. “Well, uh thank you.” Come on girl focus, she thought to herself. “Um…okay, so you can’t place the taste, what would you say the potion smells like?”

“I’m not sure, but did you know you smell amazing?”

“What?”

“You always smell like a greenhouse,” said Hunter casually as he skimmed his textbook. “Which makes sense since you’re there so often. Or maybe a meadow? It’s like a bunch of different flowers and fresh grass and dirt all mixed together. It’s really lovely. Like I can’t help but think of you whenever I go outside.”

“Oh, wow,” she said with a small smile. “That’s… so sweet Hunter, thank you.”

She was so taken back by Hunter’s effortlessly sweet words that she nearly forgot the task at hand until the professor started making her rounds to check everyone’s progress.

“Miss Park, the assignment was to create a follicle altering potion, this coloring is completely wrong,” said the professor. “I don’t know what you were trying to make, but if you don’t correct it posthaste it could settle into a more complex potion. Act fast now, I don’t want to have to dock you and Mr. Noceda’s final grade.”

“Oh yes ma’am, of course,” said Willow, redirecting her attention.

“No worries, professor; Willow is the most determined person I know,” assured Hunter. “I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“See to it that you do,” she said before walking away, unaware Hunter had already sampled the mixture. Willow hoped she would at least give them a hint as to what they had made instead, but the bell screamed to signal the end of the period.

“Alright everyone, that’s lunch,” said the professor. “This will give your potions time to settle and we’ll work on perfecting them in class tomorrow.”

———-

“Let’s see,” said Willow, zooming in on the photo she had taken of the potion on her scroll, every book she and Hunter had between them regarding potions took over the lunch table. “We had to have made something, right?”

“Yeah I probably should’ve waited to taste it until we knew for sure,” said Hunter, bringing over their trays. He didn’t have to ask Willow what she wanted; he always knew. “I guess I was just trying to impress you.”

Willow didn’t say anything about this time, she just tried to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks as Hunter continued.

“So it didn’t really have a taste, it was more of an aftertaste I guess? So maybe it has a delayed effect.”

“Well I wanna figure it out before you start shrinking or something,” said Willow, only half joking. Hunter had a high tolerance for most potions, which is why he only let Willow be the tester if they were 110% sure they had nailed it. But that didn’t mean Willow still didn’t worry. “So it’s the wrong shade and consistency to be a mind reading or mind swapping potion, and you’re awake so it’s not a sleeping potion. Maybe it’s the lighting in the classroom but it actually kind of looks like this love potion? But that can’t be it, because you’re not in love with me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely in love with you,” said Hunter casually as he reached over to take one of her fries.

“What?” Said Willow, looking up from the book so fast her glasses nearly fell off. She was certain she had misheard him.

“Oh, could you not hear me?” Hunter asked. “I said I’m in love with you.

A vibrant golden sunflower appeared on the side of her head. She didn’t know how else to process Hunter casually saying the most accidentally romantic thing she had ever heard. He was so direct and so certain and it was so out of nowhere that she couldn’t think of the right thing to say. Willow was sure they were having two different conversations or that she was dreaming. The way he didn’t even hesitate, surely her mind was playing tricks on her! How was this real?

“Hunter, are you… um… are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I always feel great when I’m with you,” he said as casually as he would say “fine.” He spoke as though praising her was as natural as breathing. “Why?”

“I just uh…” Willow wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t mind what he was saying, not one bit, but she didn’t know how to express that while still making it clear that she felt guilty for how it came to be. “Just wanted to be sure.”

“Hmm, ya know I think that’s one of the first things I loved about you,” said Hunter. “I mean, right away I knew you were beautiful but I’ve never met someone so kind. Sometimes I can’t believe you’re even real.”

“Oh, uh well… I am, heh. R-real that is.” Willow knew it was the potion talking but she couldn’t help but blush. She knew she shouldn’t encourage it, that allowing him to continue might make the potion more potent and harder to subdue. She knew it wasn’t real, and yet it flustered her just the same.

“Well uh, anyway we should get back to the potions classroom,” decided Willow quickly, clearing her throat. She didn’t want to act like something was off, lest she worry him and agitate the potion somehow. “I think I figured it out so we can go make up the counter potion, all the ingredients should be in the classroom.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hunter agreed, quickly darting away for a moment to put back both their trays. He darted back to help her collect the books. “Can we hold hands on the way there?”

“Um… sure,” she decided as she extended her hand to him. It wasn’t totally unusual for them to hold hands as they walked. Hunter was still getting used to the layout of the school and Willow certainly didn’t want him getting lost.

“I lied about that, by the way,” he said as though he was responding to her thoughts as he took her hand delicately in his.

“Huh? About what?”

“Not knowing my way around the school,” he clarified as they began walking. “I studied the blueprints for weeks before I started. I wanted to impress you with how much I already knew on my first day but when you offered to take my hand and walk me to my classes until I got the hang of things well I liked that option even better.”

Willow wasn’t the best at potions to begin with so it was possible she had messed up her mess up, but she couldn’t help but wonder why it had affected Hunter the way it did. He was so… casual about it, like it was a natural occurrence that didn’t alter the set up of his mind.

They had only covered these types of potions briefly as they were only intended for the advanced class as the ethics of them were highly debated but it was well known that love potions were meant to border on obsession. Hunter should be overwhelmed sitting near her, like a lovesick puppy. But despite the things he was saying, it was like nothing had changed. He was able to function just fine. Willow wondered if the effects got more severe with time, or if bringing attention to the early signs could cause him to spiral. Was it like waking a sleepwalker? Would it be dangerous not to indulge him?

“Your hands are always so soft,” Hunter continued, looking down to admire them in his own. “And I know you always get in trouble for always having dirt under your fingernails but I love that too.”

She smiled, in spite of herself. “Really? You don’t think it’s kind of gross?”

“No,” he said easily. “I think it shows how hard you work and how much you care about what you do.”

“Well, thank you Hunter,” she chuckled. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

“Well, I should tell you more often,” said Hunter, giving her hand a small squeeze. “You deserve to know how amazing you are.”

Willow felt like her heart was spinning around in her chest. Hunter wasn’t showing any physical signs of the potion’s effects, but the blush on Willow’s face was proof that she was. She suddenly remembered the time she had offered to paint Hunter’s nails when the Entrails had a team building night. How she took his hand and asked what design he wanted and suddenly he couldn’t decide. The longer he took to think, the longer she held his hand. She wondered now if it had been intentional.

“Oh shoot,” Willow groaned as they re-approached the classroom. “The door is locked, I forgot the professor always locks it when we have projects brewing so no one can mess with them.”

“Well, I feel fine,” said Hunter. “I think I can wait until after school for her office hours.”

“Hunter, are you sure?”

“Yeah, we can always go to the nurse if I start not feeling fine,” he said. “But I’ll take any excuse to spend more time with you though.”

“Okay then,” she squeaked, overly aware that he did not let go of her hand. “Why don’t we uh, go find the others for the rest of lunch?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed. “As long as I can sit near you.”

———-

“Oh, Willow! Hunter! Over here!” Amity called from across the cafeteria. “Hey! What are you guys doing here? Willow messaged me that you guys were working through lunch.”

“Well, that was the plan,” said Willow. “But the classroom is locked up right now, so we have to wait until after lunch.”

“Too bad, but pull up a chair!” Gus said, sipping his juice. “So what’s up?”

Hunter pulled out Willow’s chair for her, which was not new but given the current circumstances it made her feel guilty. “Uh, well…”

“Nothing much,” said Hunter as he took his seat beside her. “I’m just thinking about how pretty Willow is, what about you?”

Gus nearly spit out his juice. This was not a totally unique answer from Hunter, but usually Willow was out of earshot when this was the case. He didn’t sputter to correct himself and Willow didn’t react, which suggested this was not the first occurrence.

Amity and Gus exchanged a look and adopted matching grins.

“Whaaaat’s going on?” Gus asked mischievously.

“Yeah, is there something you two wanna share with us?” Added Amity.

“Willow is beautiful every day, why do you two seem so surprised?” Hunter asked.

Willow’s face flushed and she gave a tiny giggle which quickly turned into a nervous laugh. She looked down and suddenly a vine crept onto the table and knocked over Amity’s drink. “Oh darn ! Oh wow, uh… Hunter! Could you go grab a napkin, please? And uh maybe another drink?” She added, attempting to prolong his return beyond a mere golden dash.

“Of course,” he said, getting up. “I’ll grab you something too, I think they have the little cakes you like. They’re small and sweet, just like you. It’s like most things remind me of you, isn’t that funny?”

“Haha yeah sooo funny,” Willow smiled nervously as she moved her hand to the side of her head trying to hide the blooming flower he inspired this time. “That’s so… yeah. Um, take your time! Thanks!”

“So…” began Gus. “Did something finally happen…?”

Willow made sure Hunter was out of earshot before dropping her false smile, stuffing the flower in her pocket and turning to her friends to explain in a panicked whisper.

“I messed up our assignment and long story short I gave Hunter a love potion,” Willow confessed quickly. “I don’t want to worry him so he doesn’t know because I don’t want to make things worse or make him feel awkward because it’s not his fault.”

“Well how do you know it was a love potion?” Amity asked.

“Well for one he told me that he’s in love with me,” said Willow, pulling out her scroll to show them the photo of what they made. “I added something wrong or out of order and this is what we made instead of a hair changing potion.”

“Did you taste it?” Amity asked.

“No, we always take turns being the tester,” said Willow.

“Willow, I don’t think it’s a love potion.” Amity said delicately.

“What do you mean?”

Amity didn’t know the proper way to say the effects would be moot as the potion creates attraction but if attraction was preexisting it would cancel out. But she knew Willow had definitely made something and didn’t want to add something else to her friend’s plate before solving the problem at hand so instead she said:

“I mean, it’s the right color but don’t you need intention when making a love potion?” Amity asked. “I mean, isn’t it supposed to have like your hair or something in it?”

“I dunno, my hair could have fallen in it or something,” said Willow. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t want Hunter in love with me?”

“Oh, don’t you?” Gus questioned smugly.

A mini field of yellow flowers sprouted in her hair. She quickly dusted them off and tried to whisper but her voice still managed to squeak. “Well okay maybe but not like this,” she said. “Like it’s so wrong for me to be enjoying all the nice things he’s saying about me when it’s not real.”

Amity and Gus exchanged a look, both knowing that wasn’t totally true.

“Oh shh! He’s coming back!” Willow pleaded, brushing the latest garden from her head.

“We didn’t say anything,” Amity murmured.

Hunter offered Willow a wide smile as he slid in back beside her. “They had cake cups and I wanted to get you one but I didn’t know if I should get one with a heart or a flower because they both remind me of you so I got them both and you can choose your favorite and Gus can have the other one,” said Hunter as he distributed the sweets and goods from his tray.

“Thank you, Hunter,” said Willow faintly, as she allowed Gus to take his pick because she truly could not choose.

“Um, why didn’t you get me a cupcake?” Amity teased as she took her new drink.

“Because I’m still mad at you for telling Darius that my O’Bailey cosplay wasn’t modern human realm fashion so he wouldn’t let me wear it in our holiday card,” said Hunter nonchalantly.

“What?” Amity said. “But you still got to wear it in the one with the Nocedas!”

“Yes but if you didn’t say anything Camila was gonna find him a general Midas outfit to wear when we took the photo all together next year but now he knows it’s not ‘in fashion.’” Said Hunter. “Which is also why I set all your clocks back a minute and a half when we came over for dinner last week.”

Gus sighed. “Hunter, we need to work on your pranks because that’s not-.”

Amity gasped in shock as she pointed a finger at him. “I knew it was you!”

“I also moved everything on your desk one inch to the left,” said Hunter. “That was Willow’s idea. She has a wonderful mind for mischief, it makes me feel like a puddle.”

“Hmmm,” said Gus as Amity continued to express her woe. He couldn’t help but be suspicious of the way Hunter admitted this with such a straight face. It wasn’t snarky or defensive; it was just factual. It was way too casual. It was unusual. Gus had a theory.

“Hey Hunter, what did you really think about the way I wrote O’Bailey in my Cosmic Frontier fanfiction?”

“You had him monologuing a bit too much and I’m not sure you captured his humor as well as you could have,” Hunter said as he took a sip of his own juice.

“Okay, okay,” said Gus, knowing this response was very different from what he had initially said. “What happens in the story you wrote that you won’t let me read?”

“Uh, nothing major,” said Hunter thoughtfully. “I just wrote about what I think happened with O’Bailey and Ivy when they got stranded on that moon. It had a lot of kissing but I don’t really know how to describe kissing and I didn’t want to risk Willow finding it and realize that because I want her to think that I-.”

“Okay!” Gus cut him off, his theory confirmed. He cleared his throat as he prepared to share. “Willow, you didn’t give him a love potion, you gave him a truth potion.”

“What, wait?” Willow said.

“How do you know?” Amity asked.

“Gave who a what now?” asked Hunter as he used his fork to take a bite of Gus’ dessert.

“I had a feeling there was a reason Hunter was avoiding giving me feedback,” Gus explained. “And I know he would never tell me outright that he didn’t like my story, and if he did he wouldn’t do it without me having to force it out of him.”

“No, no I’m pretty sure it was a love potion,” said Willow. “I mean, why else would he be talking about my eyes and my smile?”

“Because it erases his filter,” said Gus. “So he’s basically just saying everything he’s thinking.”

“So he… thinks about my eyes a lot?”

“Yeah,” said Hunter, unaware it wasn't a question he needed to answer. “But I mostly think about your face in general, it makes me feel dizzy and warm and safe.”

“Awh,” Willow couldn’t help but openly blush as Hunter went back to sampling Gus’ treat as though he had Neely given her the time. His words seemed to hit her twice as it spun her back to everything he had said to her since class, and they echoed with a new air.

“So when he said he was… that means he really is…”

Gus watched as the truth washed over Willow, her emotions leaping in and out of focus as they tried to decide what to display on her face. Gus wasn’t sure if Hunter would remember saying the things he was saying now, considering they had not intended to make a truth potion initially and he had no reason to be suspicious. Very often when a consumer had not been told they had been given a truth potion (as they were often used in court or interrogations) their mind automatically went to the things they wanted to keep secret and blurted them out against their conscious will. But when a person was slipped a potion, they acted like they would act in a dream; unsuspecting of the unusual.

But Gus wasn’t certain if this was a dream Hunter would remember fondly or instantly regret.

“Hey, if you guys wanna head to the Owl House and have Eda help you make the counter potion, I can whip up some illusions to cover for you guys for the rest of the day,” offered Gus.

“Sounds good,” said Hunter. “That way I can still qualify for the perfect attendance award which for some reason the thought of not having makes me anxious and can spend time with Willow, which both excites and terrifies me sometimes.”

“Worried about losing the award to me huh?” Amity teased, hoping to defuse the tension before remembering it was technically impossible for Hunter to save face right now.

“Well I think I’m afraid of missing a core memory that makes us all closer friends like in all the stories Luz told me when I was preparing to enroll,” said Hunter thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m also still wary of breaking rules but Willow seems to enjoy it and I enjoy seeing her enjoy things,” he chuckled before he turned to speak to Willow directly. “Mischievousness was not something I thought attractive until I met you, but I think it’s the gentle way you laugh when you talk about that makes me feel like my chest is going to explode.”

“Uh we should probably get going,” said Willow, swiftly getting up to try and hide the newest blooms sprouting in her hair.

“I would go anywhere she asked me to go,”said Hunter, sharing his thoughts as casually as he might say goodbye as he went to follow Willow outside. “Oh and Amity, Luz got you Azura earrings for your birthday.”

—-

The Owl Lady left them alone, not wanting to hear Hunter’s true thoughts about her, and also knowing this was teenage drama best left to be solved by teenagers. She had everything they needed and promised to check the final concoction to avoid any accidental poisoning.

“You look worried,” Hunter observed in the middle of silence which was unusual for this setting between the two recently.

“I’m not,” she said, as she added some crushed juniper to the mix.

“I can tell you’re lying,” he said. “I can tell by the way you move your hands. I know you’re not sad but you do the same thing when the weather is bad and you’re thinking about your plants. I don’t like when you lie to me about how you’re feeling. I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

She glanced up at him and knew he’d say this even without the potion prompting him. The potion typically didn’t allow his emotions about what he was confessing to be expressed, but his concern for her was just that heavy.

“I know,” she sighed. “I do know that. I’m just… worried that I didn’t respond the right way when I found out all your secrets.”

“Well you didn’t find out all my secrets,” Hunter said as he spun in his chair. “I didn’t tell you about the-.”

“Mhmm! Hey!” She exclaimed, cutting him off. “Careful! I’ll wear ear plugs; I mean it!”

“Fine, fine, but I do wanna tell you things,” he said. “Which you know is true, because of the potion.” She lovingly rolled her eyes and he smiled. “I’m really okay with you asking me things. I like when I can help you and I can tell there’s something bothering you.”

“Heh, of course you can,” she chuckled lightly. “It’s just… not something I was expecting to hear today, I guess? And I know it’s true but I’m still in disbelief, kind of. It’s just been… a lot? Ya, know not in a bad way I just mean like I know you weren’t planning-.”

“Is this about me being in love with you?”

The flowers sprouted back in her hair. She had given up trying to hide it at this point. “I mean, it’s not something you expect to hear at the lunch table I guess.”

It wasn’t the fact that he said it really it was the way that he said it. He didn’t say he had a crush on her or that he liked her, he kind of skipped a few steps. And Willow didn’t know if that was just how he happened to phrase it or if that was truly how deep he felt about her. She knew how serious Hunter took the things that were important to him, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was even aware of these feelings. It took her weeks before she accepted she liked him more than a friend, but her acceptance didn’t stop the feelings from growing. She had tried to convince herself that it was nothing, that it would pass but one day her feelings just burst forth like water from a damn demanding to be felt.

Willow wondered if a Hunter in full control had already come to terms with these feelings or if this confession was news to him as well.

“Oh no, did it make you uncomfortable? Willow, I promise I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

“I know that, of course I know that, and I promise you that you didn’t.”

“Good.”

“It’s just that, you’re really in love with me,” Willow crafted her question carefully as she began to mix. “Then why haven’t you ever told me?”

“I don’t know how,” he said in the simple way the potion effects allowed him. “I’ve never really felt this way before, at least not toward someone I actually knew and knew for so long. I didn’t want to do it wrong and make things weird between us or offend you. I just kind of hoped I would wake up one day and just know how to do it.”

“Okay.” She didn’t want to pry further. Well no, she definitely did but she knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. She shouldn’t trick Hunter to find out his feelings about her despite desperately wanting to. She could at least be more open with her feelings with full confidence when this was all over but it still felt unfair that he didn’t have control over how she found out. But she couldn’t help being secretly happy about it anyway.

“Do you think you could ever fall in love with someone like me?” He asked calmly as though asking about the weather.

She wanted to say, no to scream: Not someone like you, you!

Instead she sputtered:

“Um, w-why do you ask?” She wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to know right now or just something he was thinking about at the moment that slipped out against his will.

“That’s the main reason I never said anything,” he explained. “I didn’t think you’d like me back. And if I knew for sure that you didn’t then I’d have to stop feeling that way about you and things would be weird but I like feeling that way about you. It’s confusing, but nice?”

“Hmm you’re confusing but nice,” she giggled, feeling silly and bubbly for some reason.

He smiled. “Are you? Okay with it, I mean?”

Her smile grew. “I really like the way you get excited about things,” she said, looking down to trace some carvings on the table with her finger. “You take care of the things you care about and the way you care about things is really sweet. Being someone you care about is really special. And being someone you really like… well… I don’t see why anyone would mind that. In fact…”

She wondered if she should just say it. It wasn’t like she wasn’t sure her feelings were returned, but she didn’t want Hunter to think she was only saying it to make him feel better if his memory didn’t erase the moment. But she wanted Hunter to know that it was all equal; his hesitation, his confusion and his feelings.

But that would have to wait until it was his choice to tell her.

“… I’ll tell you after we have the counter potion ready.”

“You’re so wonderful,” he sighed, tracing the letters of her name on the front of her notebook. “You make my hands feel sweaty.”

Willow tried not to drop the spoon she was stirring with as she fought the urge to craft a flirty response. She wanted him to know she felt the same way but she knew it was wrong to dive too deeply into his trove of secrets. So instead, she giggled and bit her lip as she playfully responded. “Stooooop.”

“Do you want me to stop talking?” He asked, resting his chin on the back of the chair as he watched her work.

“Of course not, why would I want that?” She asked with a smile.

“Because what if I say something you don’t want to know?” He said. Willow marveled at a moment that even with his filter removed he still managed to be concerned about what she thought.

“I mean, I’m more worried about you saying something you don’t want me to know,” said Willow. “Maybe there’s a way we can erase the memories from today, about those parts at least. I know Eda could probably-.”

“I do want you to know,” he said.

“Huh?”

“I do want you to know,” he repeated. “I do want, well did want to tell you. I thought about it all the time. Sometimes it was hard not to say something. But there was always so much going on, I mean we’ve got playoffs and finals and then there was never a time with all the portal attempts in the human realm-.”

“Human realm? Wait,” Willow set down her supplies as she dreamily processed his latest confession. “Do you… you’ve liked me since we were trapped in the human realm?” Realizing what she had done, before he could reply she quickly leapt forward and her hand sprang to cover his mouth. “Don’t answer that! I’m sorry! I don’t want to trick you into telling me any more secrets!”

His response still came, muffled by her palm and safe from her ears. She felt him smile and his eyes softened as he went to remove her hand and held it to his cheek.

“Well,” he sighed. “Can I at least tell you again how soft your hands are?”

She giggled, unable to help how giddy and dizzy his unfiltered praise made her. “Well okay, I guess.”

——-

The counter potion was much simpler to make, and thankfully much better tasting too.

Willow watched Hunter’s face as he drank for signs of whether or not he remembered the details of the day’s events.

She could instantly tell by the way his eyes widened that he did.

And the way his face flushed told her his calm demeanor about it all was no more.

“How are you feeling?” She asked anyway.

“Uh… a lot?” He said, his voice cracking. “I mean, I feel fine but I uh…” he now found he couldn’t look at her without all the things he had said today overlapping in his mind. They were nothing he didn’t truly believe, nothing he was ashamed of, but he was mostly embarrassed that she knew he couldn’t easily say them to her now despite how truly he felt them. “Soooo uh can we maybe pretend today never happened?”

“I mean, we can if you want,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I mean, it’s my fault that you drank the wrong potion anyway, and I really am sorry that you had to-.”

“Oh, no!” He jumped in to say. “I-I don’t mean because of what you did I mean because of what I did.”

“Yeah because of what I did!”

“No! No, I… I don’t want you to feel bad,” he tried again. “But I don’t want things to be weird between us because of what I said. I mean, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me now that you know … ya know…”

“I know,” she said, reading between the lines. “And since we’re being honest… I was able to recreate the truth potion while the counter potion was settling and I took a sip of it and I can feel it starting to work.”

“What? Why?”

“Well I wanted to see what the after taste tasted like,” said Willow. “But also because I thought this would be a way to make things fair between us.”

“Willow, I don’t want you to admit all your secrets just to make me feel better,” said Hunter.

“I’m not gonna say all of them,” she said, mimicking his tone from before. “I’ll just answer any questions you wanna ask me.”

“But I don’t know what to say, I mean I don’t want to ask the wrong thing if it’s something you don’t want to tell me…”

“I figured you’d say that,” she said with a smirk. “So I wrote some questions down for you. That way you know what I want you to know and you can decide if you wanna know too.”

She slid a carefully folded piece of paper over to him, his name written in bold cursive with a tiny heart beside it.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I’m fine with waiting for the potion to wear off, really. We still have some of the counter potion left and we don’t have to talk about… the other stuff.”

“I’m very sure,” she said. “I want to tell you these things.”

“Okay then,” he chuckled as he brought the paper closer to read. His eyes found the first sentence and he immediately slammed the paper down, his face beet red at the thought of saying it aloud. “Ok, uh..”

“Heh, you always look so cute when you do that,” she giggled, resting her chin in her hand.

“When I do w-what?”

“When you blush,” she clarified. “I love how the red reaches the tips of your ears and your mouth gets all squiggly; it’s very cute.”

“You… think I’m cute,” Hunter said, saying it more as an observed realization and purposely not as a question to answer. He cleared his throat as he tried to move on with grace. “Okay, cool. Cooooool. Cool cool cool.”

“I also think you’re cool,” she said, and the red on his face intensified and his smile grew. “I also love the gap between your teeth, especially when you smile.”

“Willow,” he said shyly, unable to suppress his smile now. “I thought you wanted me to ask you things.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “But I can’t help it; no filter, remember? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no I just uh wanted to stick to your plan. So uh okay uh Willow,” he began, clearing his throat as he brought the list back up to his eyesight. “Uh ‘do you think I’m’ - oh wait, w-we just said that one heh.”

Willow bit her lip in anticipation as she watched him scan the rest of the list.

“Do you- hehehe,” he couldn’t help but laugh nervously at the sentence written plain as day in her bubbly green pen. He knew it was her own choice, that she wanted him to know, but it was a question he would never ask (at least not the way she had decided to word it).

“Go ahead,” she prompted.

“Do you think my hair looks… attractive pushed back?” He paraphrased from her list.

“Yes,” she said. “I like getting to see your face better, I don’t feel guilty about that.”

“Were you the one who let Hooty eat my history of magic notebook?”

“Yes, because you were stressing yourself out about the test even though you had everything memorized and it was the only way to stop you,” said Willow. “But I put a protection spell on it so it’s still usable, that I do feel a little guilty about.”

Hunter smiled, it had been his first official test at Hexside and he was determined to do well. Willow knew he knew the material and when his notebook ‘mysteriously’ went missing, the two of them went on a picnic. He had passed the test easily, and he knew without intervention he would’ve been up all night studying instead of getting a proper night’s sleep.

“Can I… actually ask you something that’s not on the list?”

“Of course,” she assured him. “I trust you.”

“I… uh,” he hesitated, if only to try and find the best way to ask her this. It weighed so heavily on the back of his mind and he knew what she’d say if he asked her any other time. But a sort of him would never believe her. He didn’t know if it would be better to really know but at least he wouldn’t wonder.

“Does it… bother you that I’m a grimwalker?”

“No.” She said without hesitation.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Like, not even a little?”

“I mean, it bothers me that it bothers you,” she said. “Because it’s not something you can change and I know sometimes you think it means you’re not deserving of things or that you have something to make up for. But I’m really glad you exist, and I don’t really care how it happened.”

“Okay,” he said with a sniffle, trying to not cry. “Cool. That’s… good to know I guess, heh.”

He was feeling better, but he couldn’t help but feel a small weight still tugging at him, he both did and didn’t want to keep going. It was scary, as Willow often was to him in a unique and safe way (yet another contradiction she summoned) but if he didn’t keep going it might haunt him forever. He knew deep down that no matter what she would not leave or belittle him, but this was still uncharted territory.

“Does it… bother you that I like you more than you like me?”

“No it doesn’t bother me,” she said. “Mostly because it’s not true.”

“What?” Hunter said, certain he had misheard her. “Do you not… Willow, I promise you it is true.”

“Mhmmm no it’s not.”

“Willow, I can assure you it is.”

“I can assure you it’s not.”

“Willow, I mean I know the potion was preeetty strong,” Hunter chuckled. “But I still remember everything I said. I know that I told you I’m in love with you which I know seems like a strong wording but it’s how I feel. I like you a lot, like… a lot.”

“Exactly,” she said with a smug smile. “You don’t like me more than I like you.”

As her mischievous grin grew, her words suddenly became understood and caused his ears to flutter. He felt like steam was escaping them, like he had finally landed after falling for so long. Her eyes sparkled the way they always did when she teased him like this and Hunter couldn’t help but feel like they were on the edge of something.

“Oh, then how does it make you feel? I-it’s okay then?”

“Do you wanna ask me the last question?”

“I mean, I don’t really know if I- wait, did you just ask me a question?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s just that you asked me a question instead of truthfully answering the question I asked which means… Willow, you didn’t really take another truth potion, did you?”

She knew the jig was up so she simply shrugged playfully and twirled a loose curl on her finger. “Okay, so maaaaaybe I lied about that,” she admitted.

“Willow!” He tried to say sternly but couldn’t help but laugh. He knew she meant no harm, that her silliness was not at his expense.

“I’m sorry!” She laughed in response. “But I didn’t remember exactly how I messed up the first time and I wanted to tell you I liked you too but I didn’t wanna wait until we got back to school because I’m pretty sure we’ll have to dump the potion and start over anyway so I-.”

“Wait,”said Hunter softly. “So… you do? Like me? Like… I like you?”

“Well, if you had read me the last question,” said Willow, reaching over to both point to the bottom of the page and to be closer to him. “You wouldn’t seem so surprised.”

#huntlow #huntlow fanfiction #winter toh #toh #willow park #Hunter toh #the owl house

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whimsicalcotton · 2 months ago

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I'm gonna be honest I just love the way you write amberpricefield so much. I've never even played the game. I love them so much. If you're still taking requests please pick your favorite.

skdfjsdhk thank you anon 🥺🥺🥺

thank u also for the free reign! here is some incredibly stupid Everybody's (Actually) Fine AU nonsense for u <3

--- --- ---

50: Nicknames/Pet Names

There’s a list of things other than “Max,” that Rachel and Chloe call her that probably runs a mile long.

Chloe likes to stretch her name into a wide variety of different shapes — some more ridiculous than others — and though there apparently exists some method to her madness no one else seems to know quite what it is. Mad Max, Maximilian, Maximum Turbo-Force Dork. Max could fill up a whole notebook with just those, let alone the pet-names. Chloe was once solely an ironic user of the word babe, so Max has been told, but she’s long since fallen into the trap of habit and now throws it around far more casually than Max can handle.

Rachel has also grown fond of playing around with Max’s name, but she leans more towards the terms of endearment. Max has lost count of the amount of times she’s gone all red in the face after being called honey or love or darling. There was even that one time Rachel had the audacity to call her babygirl in the middle of the dorm hallways, which made her fluster so hard she’d immediately started babbling some lame excuse about the time before literally running all the way back to her room.

All this is to say: Max has been thinking it’s time for some payback.

So with devious plots in mind from the moment she gets up — perhaps Rachel is starting to rub off on her a bit — Max makes it her day's mission to give the two of them a taste of their own medicine.

She catches Rachel first. Lingering in the dorm halls, fittingly enough, knee deep in yet another unnecessarily tense looking party planning conversation with Victoria. Of course, Victoria is often the only one who suffers in a conversation with Rachel, so when she turns to see Max approaching her expression shifts easily into one of earnest excitement.

“Morning, Max,” she greets, apparently feeling generous in her sparing Max from having to get flustered in front of Victoria. Her mistake.

Max takes a final little breath for courage, and goes for the metaphorical kill. “Good morning, sweetheart. Am I seeing you for lunch today?”

She tries not to smile so hard watching Rachel’s cheeks turn red.

“Y-Yeah,” Rachel answers, looking momentarily horrified by her stammering before straightening up. “Yeah, sure, lunch. I’m there. See you then.”

As Max is taking her leave, hardly capable of stopping herself from skipping the whole way, she overhears their chatter resume.

“Bitch, didn’t you literally just tell me we were gonna go over this shit again at lunch?” Victoria snaps, incredulous. “Oh my god, you’re down bad. That was pathetic. Well played, Amber, truly.”

“Shut the hell up, Chase,” Rachel hisses back. “Tell anyone what just happened and you’ll be on your own supplying party booze for the rest of the year.”

Max gets Chloe later on, during the aforementioned lunch hangout that Rachel is apparently snubbing Victoria to be present for.

She’s in the midst of chowing down on some of the sweets Max brought along, getting bread crumbs and icing sugar all over herself in the process. By the time she’s done, there are patches of powdery white and a hint of jelly still adorning her face. Rachel tries to hide a bout of snorting giggles upon looking at her.

“Jesus, you’d think we never feed you,” she says, still covering her mouth with one hand and handing Chloe a napkin with the other.

“Yeah,” Max agrees, taking the napkin in Chloe’s stead and reaching up to wipe off her face. “You’re making such a mess of yourself, baby.”

Chloe’s eyes go wide as saucers as she squeaks out an astoundingly unsure, “I sure am.” She lets Max finish cleaning her off before seemingly coming to her senses and going even redder than Rachel had earlier.

Speaking of, Rachel’s gone a little pink again herself. She looks over at Max with a gaze as hungry as it is curious. “Man, you’re out for blood today, aren’t you?”

“Just having a bit of fun,” Max assures with a smile, watching on in unabashed satisfaction as Chloe devolves into a grumbling, mumbling mess hiding her face in her hands.

#behold. my silly nickname headcanons sjfksjhfksj #thank u again i had a lot of fun w this. i'm also love them really much your honor #nova answers #nova writes

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auncyen · 9 months ago

Text

act 5 au

today's writing progress which. may very well require changes lol

"I still have some questions," Odile says, and you bite back a sigh because of course she does. "You've been looping in time. What was this afternoon about? Why not just tell us then? What was the point of showing me the familytale today? You could have shown me when the loop was over."

"Because it makes you happy, and then you learn a useful skill." You hate the answer as soon as it leaves your mouth. You don't want to lie, but maybe that's too honest. Just tell them you're manipulative, why don't you?

Well, you are. That's why you showed her the familytale.

"Oh, huh." Isabeau sounds pensive. "Yeah, I've heard emotional clarity is good for figuring out new techniques. …You were trying to teach Bonnie something, too, weren't you? Though, putting yourself in danger really isn't a good way to do it, Sif. That was, uh, about the worst thing you could have done with them."

You roll your eye. "It always worked before. I wasn't in any real danger." The worst case scenario was that you'd need to loop, and it'd be really pathetic if such a weak Sadness caused that.

"Thaaaat's not how it sounded." Isabeau leans against the sink, folding his arms. "…You were trying to do that with all of us, weren't you? We were supposed to go stargazing? And, uh…" He looks over at Mirabelle, who huffs, seeming to have calmed down from her tears enough to manage indignation.

"I don't know how I would get any kind of 'emotional clarity' from that--"

"I said it wrong! I meant--"

"No, no! I want to figure it out myself," Mirabelle insists, puffing her cheeks out at you, so--fine. She doesn't need to know that skill anyway, her regular shield will do just fine--

You still haven't reminded her about the CARROT method. Stars. "Okay, but you do need to learn how to make a shield. So, remember the CARROT method, and figure it out."

Everyone looks baffled by various degrees, but that's fine. Mirabelle always looks confused when you hint it to her at the start of a loop anyway. "You know about the CARROT method?" Isabeau asks.

"No, I just know that she knows the CARROT method, and it helps her figure out how to make shields."

"What happens if I don't figure it out?" Mirabelle asks.

"King kills us."

…Oh, that was definitely a too-honest answer. Mirabelle's eyes go round as saucers as one hand flies to her mouth, and even Odile looks alarmed next to her. "…Sif," Isabeau says slowly. "The way you said that…have we actually died?"

You look aside. "He finishes me off first and then I loop back, so, I don't think so?" Not as long as there's only one timeline getting reset, which you have to believe. You can't stomach the situations you've left the others in if they stayed after you were gone. "But it doesn't look good."

"You've died." Isabeau doesn't seem to take any relief from the clarification.

"And then I loop back, and I'm fine!" You sweep your hand in front of yourself, from the brim of your hat to just below your hips, and smile at him. "See?"

His eyebrows stay hovering far above where they normally would rest. You keep smiling at him, fighting not to bare your teeth.

"Sif--"

"Stars, Isa, am I bleeding?" you snap. Why can't he just believe you? "Do you see some gaping wound I've missed? Looping resets everything! I'm not hurt! I'm fine!" You turn to Odile. "Why would I tell everyone I'm looping through time when people are going to get hung up on stupid things like this?"

Odile looks so disappointed with you. "Do you really think you're fine, Siffrin?"

#in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #act 5 au #idk if I actually want some of this coming out this early in the fic #(especially that last part)#so it might change #BUT ALSO I'M JUST REALLY GLAD I MADE SOME PROGRESS TONIGHT #SO I'M SHARING PART OF IT

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iguana-eyanna · 1 year ago

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Hey I was wondering if you do requests? If you do could you do a Gil x reader where she’s Betty’s tutor in science and he swears he’s never seen her (but they go to the same school) and he is so smitten. Also some sibling antics between the Rizzo siblings like in the show haha! I also LOVE your writing!

Omg yes!!! Love this concept. Here’s a little one shot I thought of.

T🪽Birds request: Meeting… Again (Gil)

"Ma! I got the groceries!" Gil said out loud as he kicked his boots off at the doorway.

Gil's mom comes at the door, smiling at her eldest as he came to pick up groceries for their family.

"Gil, I told you i'd get them after Betty's tutor session is done." she lightly scolded him as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Nah, it's not a problem. I dropped the guys off and had some time on my plate. Where is dear sister of mine?"

He asks, wanting to make fun of Betty as she failed her last science quiz at school.

"She's in the kitchen with her tutor. Don't interrupt, please." She said before making her way in their house. Once gone, Gil runs for the kitchen and starts his antics.

He was about to announce his presence till he saw you and Betty sitting at the table while you were pointing at the book.

"-and that's how you use the scientific method." You said, dropping your pencil as you pointed out the page with it.

Betty brightened up as she looks back at you.

"It's so easy to understand now! When Mr. Winslow explains it, my brain turns to mush."

"Yeah, I had Mr. Winslow when I was your grade. I thought he was from the planet Mars." You joke as both of you laugh.

"You had him too?" Gil asked out loud.

You and Betty look at him as you didn't realize he was in the room.

"Get away, Gil. I'm trying to study." Betty said sharply.

"Hey, I'm not the one failing science right now. I'm just trying to get to know this beautiful and smart lady in front of me who unfortunately had to take that old man's class." Gil said, offering his hand towards you.

You lightly scoff as you look at Gil.

"Well, we both took his class together at Betty's grade. Or have you forgotten that we've been going to the same schools since junior high?" You ask, slightly teasing him.

Gil's face falls and his sister tries to silence her giggles. One thing about you is that you're not afraid to say what's on your mind.

He thought that was so cool.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend." He said, trying to chuckle it off as he straightened up.

Your features become softer as you give him a sympathetic look.

"It's alright. We're not really in the same classes now. I don't usually stand out for fun people like you, Gil." You said, making him feel more at ease.

Gil pretended to ponder, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Hmm, maybe I just have a selective memory. But I'm definitely not forgetting you anytime soon."

You two silently stare at each other, smiling until Betty interrupted, waving her arm to grab your attention.

"Hello? I didn't realize this tutor session turned into a date." She slightly yells out loud.

You and Gil break out of your trance as you cough in embarrassment.

"Sorry. Let's focus on chapter 5." You said, staring down at the book. Gil waves a small goodbye as he leaves you both alone and heads to his room, not knowing you were looking at him leave.

He slumps on his bed and looks up at the ceiling, sighing contently as all he could do was think of your smile.

That’s when he realized you got him twirled around his finger.

And he’s more than okay with that.

#gil rizzo #gil rizzo x reader #gil x reader #rise of the pink ladies #grease #grease rise of the pink ladies

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 months ago

Text

Public Enemy: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Summary: Someone is terrorizing the public by taking their comfort away from them. You're trying to heal from being in prison, and Spencer helps as much as he can.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

"Show me a hero, and I will write you a tragedy." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Tick, tick, tick goes the clock again. All you want to do is throw something at the damn thing.

"I tried. I tried so hard to think about the dream I rewrote. I tried to keep it in my head but it didn't work," you sigh sadly.

"Which dream did you rewrite?" Melissa asks and crosses her legs.

"My boyfriend was kidnapped a few years ago. I was with him and we went to talk to a witness who turned out to be the killer. We split up and he got kidnapped. He was tortured and got addicted to Dilaudid because of it. I rewrote it to make it so we never split up."

"Why did you choose that nightmare to rewrite?"

"It was the less traumatic of them all, I guess."

"Keep it up. I think you're doing a great job. It might not seem like it but you are."

"Thanks," you whisper.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" You open your mouth but nothing comes out. "It's okay, Y/N. This is a safe space. You can talk about anything you want."

"I just..." You look down and pick the lint off your clothes. "I fear I'll never be a good FBI agent again. I fear I'll never be as I was before." You lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees with your head in your hands. "God, I wish I could just go back to before I went to prison."

"What happened last time to make you realize you're much more than this gift of yours?"

You sit up and go back to picking at the lint on your clothes.

"I see death every single day. Yesterday, I went grocery shopping and I saw a dead woman in the cereal aisle. They never leave me alone," you whisper painfully. "One day, I saw a woman get mugged by a man a lot bigger than her. He knifed her, took her purse, and ran away, leaving her to bleed out. It had already happened so I couldn't do anything about it. I saw their energies to help paint a picture of the event. All I could do was stand there and watch it happen. I decided at that moment I wanted to stick up for people who couldn't do it for themselves. I needed to stop letting others' fear control me. I told myself enough is enough. I applied for the police academy that afternoon."

"What makes this different than that?" You look at Melissa with tears in your eyes. "Why do you think you can't tell yourself enough is enough?"

You take five minutes to think of an answer.

"Maybe I've been around death for too long. It knows what to expect from me," you sigh.

"If I had to guess, I think it's because you're afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Making mistakes. Of letting your friends and family down." You look away from her and let two tears fall down your cheeks. "Of you."

"Yeah, maybe," you shrug.

"Looks like we'll have to pick this up next time. Are you going to be okay?"

"I don't know. Thanks for listening to me."

"Thanks for letting me."

You leave therapy and stand outside the office building for a moment. You let the sun wash over your skin, warming it. Every time you leave therapy, you don't know if you're going to be better. It does help to talk to someone about this but you're not sure if you'll ever be the same as you once were. Your phone rings and you answer it when you see your boyfriend's name.

"Hey, Spence."

"Hey, are you done?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way."

"I love you."

It doesn't matter how much he says it to you, your heart will always flutter.

"I love you. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

You decide to walk to work since it's not far from your therapist's office. The local park isn't crowded with kids yet since it's still early so you enjoy the solitude for as long as you have it. You cut through the park instead of going around it, and you come across a thick blanket of trees in one section of the park. Two people are inside the cluster of trees, struggling. You walk closer and see a man robbing a younger and smaller woman. She has her mouth wide open and screams for help but no noise comes out of her mouth.

This isn't real. This isn't happening in real-time. The man yanks the purse from the woman and ends up stabbing her. She falls to the ground and he runs further into the treeline until he disappears.

Enough is... oh, forget it.

You turn and walk to the BAU with your head down the entire way. Everyone is in the briefing room and you quickly take your seat so JJ can begin.

"This is Captain Paul Collins." She puts his picture on the screen. "He's the third victim in two weeks in Providence, Rhode Island. He just returned home two weeks ago from his fourth tour in Iraq. He's a decorated war hero."

"Was he targeted because he's in the military?" Derek asks.

"No. Just like the first two victims, he was targeted because he was convenient. He was killed at a church during an early service. His neck was cut open and severed at the carotid artery. He bled out in a matter of moments. It happened right in front of his daughter and wife."

"Murder in a church is highly symbolic. Is there a religious agenda involved?" Emily asks.

"The detective on the case, Jake Moreland, ruled that out because of the first two victims. The first victim, Mike O'Donnell, was found under a sink in the men's room at a restaurant."

"What kind of restaurant?"

"It's a local place with white tablecloths and jug wine. The second victim, Karen Lagrassa, was killed at the laundromat. All three had their throats slashed."

"Aside from the MO, the victimology's all over the place. It's like this guy doesn't care who he's kidding, just how. He's doing it in public without compunction for who sees him."

"Do we have a sketch?" Hotch asks.

"All anyone can agree on is that it's a white male between twenty-five and forty."

"Well, that narrows it down to all of Providence," Emily scoffs.

"It's hard to fault the witnesses given how bloody these murders were."

"What bothers me is the cooling off period is getting shorter and shorter, but there are no attempts to hide who he is or what he's doing. I mean, an unsub this bold could be suffering from a major psychotic break."

"I already asked Detective Moreland to pull recent releases on prisons and mental hospitals," JJ says.

"We need to get to Providence ASAP. Whether he's suffering a psychotic break or not, this could be the start of a spree, and anyone is a potential target."

After thirty minutes of gathering what you need, you meet the team at the jet. As soon as the last person is on, the jet takes off toward Rhode Island. You're seated next to Spencer at the table, and he has his left hand resting on your thigh. It doesn't matter how he touches you, his touch makes you feel safe and grounded. It's the only thing keeping you from melting in a puddle of your own tears.

"Why is he using a knife? A gun assures the highest number of fatalities. If all he's interested in is quantity, he could be doing this more efficiently," Emily says.

"He could be training. Spree killers often do dry runs before they start their rampage."

"Most spree killers have lost control by the time they begin. They're always male. If they don't fall into the school shooter category, they're older like forties and fifties, and socially isolated. The stressor is usually the dissolution of their last social outlet."

"George Hennard was inspired by James Huberty. Between the two of them, they shot forty-three people at fast food restaurants," Spencer explains.

"Well, if he's practicing for his mass murder, he's definitely getting bolder and bloodier about it. Right now, the shock and awe of the bloodletting seems to be what he's going for. Soon, that won't be enough."

"Without a specific target victim, we need to concentrate on the crime scenes and see what they tell us. Prentiss, you take the laundromat. I'll have Detective Moreland meet you there."

"I'd like to take a look at the church If you don't mind," Rossi says. "I'd like to take Y/N with me."

"Good. JJ, you and Morgan interview Captain Collins' wife. She got the best look at the unsub. See what she remembers. Reid and I will run point from the police station."

When the plane lands, you and Rossi head to the church where the unsub striked for the third time. Father Kendellen is waiting for you two on the steps outside the church.

"Agent Rossi? Agent Y/N?"

"Yes. You must be Father Kendellen."

"Thank you for coming so quickly."

"It's the least we can do, Father."

"To be honest, I've been struggling to understand all this. It's been trying," Father Kendellen sighs.

"I don't like to see crime tape In front of church doors. I can't imagine how you feel."

"Ash Wednesday is next week. These doors should never be closed to the community."

You look around the area and think where the unsub might strike next. He's already hit a restaurant bathroom, a laundromat, and a church. He's chosen his victims not out of preference but out of favorable circumstances. With each kill, he's growing bolder. He doesn't care who sees him. Next time he strikes, it'll be more public than a church. Hotch no doubt has Penelope working on finding public places that might be his next target.

You and Rossi follow Father Kendellen inside the church and your eyes immediately go to the pew that the unsub killed the military captain in. The wave of energy washes over you, bringing you back to last night. The entire church is filled with people attending the service. Paul and his family are sitting in the way back from having been late to the service. The double doors open behind them and the unsub walks in. He gets a few stares from curious onlookers but they turn back around and continue with the service. The unsub sits down behind Paul and his family, and you pause the scene to approach the unsub.

He's just a black shadow that you hope will show distinctive features you can use to catch him. However, even when you're sitting next to him, he continues to be a black shape. You focus as hard as you can to see something more but you lose confidence in yourself easily. You rest your elbows on your knees and put your head in both hands. This is too difficult. I can't do it. Someone puts a hand on your shoulder and you snap your head up to see you're back in the present with Rossi sitting next to you.

"Don't stress yourself too much."

"Rossi, this used to come so naturally to me. It was easy before. Now it's..."

"When something traumatic happens to someone, the mind is the last thing to heal. Your physical wounds are gone but you need to give your mind some time to heal the emotional ones. You're a good FBI agent even without your abilities. Don't let it get you down. Be patient."

"You're right," you sigh.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid foic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

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calissarowan · 2 months ago

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Thoughts on Fairy Ogron?

Ooh…now, and feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m going to go ahead and guess that this question was brought on by @1v31182m5’s incredible art and au, right? I keep meaning to reblog that; it’s just the coolest thing ever! In fact, I did while writing this.

So…if we’re talking about that au? I love it. Especially her art to demonstrate it. I saw it in the Discord server, asked, ‘Is there context?’ and almost shrieked with joy when she said yes, it’s an au. I love a good au. The idea of Ogron being made into a fairy is amazing, and I gotta say, slightly disturbing in a way, because I suppose it would be changing his very magical essence without his choice, which just makes it hit all the harder! I love angst, don’t judge me. If he’s a fairy, then I suppose he’d in all likelihood have to start using light magic, as dark magic is seldom compatible with fairies, at least according to the show, but this is an au, so I’m happy to be corrected! I’m quite sure he’d struggle with that, plus, he’d be in serious distress, and so positive emotions might not even be attainable. Which would basically render him powerless, other than his wings, which, having been talking in the Discord server, he would apparently not want to use, at least to start with, which I’m totally on board with. A guy that devoted his life to taking out every Earth fairy, suddenly using their method of transportation? Yeah, no, least of all with a guy as stubborn as Ogron. I love him, but we all know he’d sooner walk across the Sun than be wrong or do something he didn’t want to. But I adore this au, am actively praying that Mary posts more about it because I need this in my life. (Seriously praying.)

Moving on, because you got me going and I will ramble until the cows have come home so many times that now it’s their kids coming and going, if we’re just talking about Ogron just…being born a fairy, I guess? That would be crazy complicated, because then he’d be hunting his own people. I’ve seen a fair few fics where that’s more or less the case, at least two where he’s actually Morgana’s son, which I liked, but it felt complex. But Morgana’s kids never make sense. But I can see him being born a fairy, and I think Ogron’s emotional state has perhaps always lent itself more towards dark magic, which a fairy would never perform, so maybe he would have wanted to become a wizard, which nobody was okay with, so he had to stay a fairy, with magic that he knew didn’t suit him, and, getting into it now and just rambling like it’s a backstory, he grew to hate his wings, because they were keeping him tethered to the light magic he struggled so hard to wield, and as he felt more and more alienated, the more negative his emotions became, so his choice was either to use dark magic and use his emotions, or to watch his magic dry to a trickle and die out. So, since nobody would let him change, he figured out a way to remove his wings himself, and became a wizard the hard way. The White Circles channelled fairy powers, so it’d make sense they could take someone’s wings and let them change their magic, so he asked Morgana to do it, but when she refused, feeling trapped, he took a White Circle and did it himself. His dark magic was so wild and untrained that the spell twisted the Circle, corrupting it, but it worked, and he managed to strip himself of his wings. Of course, Tir Na N’og would have been very, very angry about what he’d done, so he probably had to go into hiding, but with years of repressed negative emotions finally able to surge to the surface, he was damn hard to stop. Eventually, he started being able to steal the wings of others, seeing it as just after they decided what magic he could or couldn’t use. He was sick of living his life in fear of them, of making choices based on what they told him, so the fairy hunt came about. Also, in this idea, I think he’d have two long scars down his back, because he really did just tear his wings out with that spell, it wasn’t perfected, and he always keeps them covered up, because he hates being reminded of what he was. Please note that this is not my new backstory for Ogron, but I do like it, a lot, and I might use it in a fic where Yllidith really doesn’t fit in.

And finally, getting a mention is if Ogron became a fairy by his own free will. Not a lot in my head here, but I’m covering all the bases. Au, angsty past, and this. Ogron might at some point reform, and as his emotions became more and more positive, dark magic might become harder, or perhaps even feel like a trigger for past trauma, so he’d choose to avoid it, and maybe at some point, it just feels hard using his wizard magic, so he decides to become a fairy. I think people would think it was strange, and the Earth fairies would have mixed feelings, because why should he be allowed to bear wings, after what he did to them, but also, if he’s got wings, he’s not coming after theirs, right, so it’s probably fine… I think he’d be pretty nervous about having wings, since he knows how vulnerable they are, and at some point, for karmic reasons, I’m pretty sure he gets a broken wing, just so he knows how it feels. I’m sorry, I’m being mean, but the angst is just too good to pass up. He’ll be fine, don’t worry!

Thank you for the awesome ask! I honestly got a bit nervous about coming up with stuff to say, but rambling saved me again! I’m actually so in love with the fairy Ogron backstory I just made up…I may have to use that somewhere. As always, feel free to send in asks; I love them! And, since my little backstory spoke to me so much…here!

Have a picture of fairy Ogron! I love his wings so much…I originally thought purple and grey, but something about the sort of sunrise colours actually works so well. Not that he wouldn’t change their colour if he got the chance. He would. He tried. The best he can do is dress as goth as possible. I figure his fairy powers would be much the same as his wizard abilities, i.e. absorbing magic, but he can’t easily summon his powers using light magic, so it’s weak.

#winx club #wizards of the black circle #winx ogron #winx headcanons #wizards of the black circle headcanons #Whoo!#I got an ask again!

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bronx-bomber87 · 2 years ago

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Had some free time this Saturday thought get another review in. <3

We Move onto Episode 6 of S1 in this series re-watch.

1x06 'The Hawke'

Ep begins the ep with a Tim Test for Lucy. (It really started with a Cold open of her flipping their car with them both in it LOL) But I digress haha She’s passing his questions with flying colors. That is until he asks 'What is the most important part of this guys file?' She gets it wrong and he of course corrects her with the start of his lesson.

Tim is questioning her skills to out think a crook. Not only that but to think like one does. The goal is to see if they can’t find out where he hides his contraband. Lucy naturally is ready to prove him wrong. To get in there and find what they need. To win this current lesson of his. Tim always with the hard ass reply to her. Telling her she’s not used to being in such a mindset. That if she wants to be a good cop she’s gonna have to think like a crook a little. Or as he put it 'Outlaw'

Ahh Protective Tim. My fav. Smacking this perv in the back of the head for making lewd comments toward Lucy. Telling him to learn some respect. Doesn't even let him look at her after that. He's trying to teach her a lesson not have this guy ogle Lucy in the process. I do enjoy Tim teaching her the D.E.A.R search method. A tactic used to help find where repeat offenders hide things. Fun to watch how he uncovers everything with each letter. She’s dutifully writing it all down. She’s eager to soak it all up until they get to ‘R’ LOL

Poor Lucy at the mercy of being a rookie. Also at the mercy of this current lesson of his. She’s so repulsed at the idea of having to do the ’R’ of this method. Did her best to try and get out of it. Tim just gives her his patented hard ass look and she knows she is defeated on this one. Walks away resigned with her gloves.

Her face when she walks back out after doing ‘Repulsive’ if looks could kill....She’s so damn mad at him for making her do that. Not only making her do that but he found the stash while she did. Tells him like it is per usual, but he’s too damn giddy to let it get to him. Acting like he's done nothing wrong to her with his 'What?'

He proceeds to soak up this moment some more. That smile on his face. God he genuinely loves getting under her skin so much. Teaching her a lesson while enjoying himself on the side. Look at that man’s face LOL he is legit so happy she’s disgruntled about this. This is so much fun for him. You are enjoying yourself way too much Timothy haha

No gif for the scene with them chasing Hawke in their shop sadly, its too bad it's a good one. It sets up their final scene of the ep. Tim/Lucy are chasing Hawke with the others. Talking about how they’re gonna find him and take him down without his son being harmed. Tim mentions how they’ve turned all the lights green. Which means they’re funneling him toward them and he won't realize it till its too late. She calls him the D.E.A.R method incarnate. Which I’m sure Tim is taking as a compliment.

Lucy tells him he must have a tactic for everything. He replies to her "Yeah probably' She then grills him on how he would handled being robbed at gunpoint. He tells her he has a fake empty wallet. He would drop that first before pulling his piece. She’s intrigued and asks where he keeps his actual money and cards. Tells her in a money clip behind his belt. Lucy is bemused and calls him weird haha They’re so cute.

Mini moment here. Lucy trying to help Tim’s wounded pride (or so he thinks) with a sweet touch and a look. He’s clearly embarrassed Hawke took him and John down so quickly. We find out later why she really did this. To gain access to his money clip. But I shall take the touch/look none the less. haha

Best part of the episode right here. Once again Lucy returning fire on Tim in the best way possible. By taking what Tim taught her and frankly tortured her with earlier to prank him back. Now it’s her turn to be enjoying herself too much. The amount of enjoyment she's getting out of teasing him is glorious.

He's genuinely so confused at her response. Wondering why she is telling him about him cleaning the dishes. It cracks me up so hard. He's not sure where she is going with his and he's annoyed she's one taken his clip and two is taunting him. Then she delivers the one two sucker punch of a line to him, and it all becomes clear.

Throwing back his words at him once again. She is so damn proud of herself when she tells him might want to ‘glove up.’ The sass and fire she throws his way is unreal. Regardless of where Tim is emotionally still with Isabel. This is a work flirt on top of getting him back that just happened right here. Eric/Melissa's chemistry on full display.

Tim can’t decide if he’s angry or just really damn impressed with her. I’m leaning more towards impressed. She took what he taught her and got back at him for having her ‘glove up.’ This is brilliant and it’s written all over his face. He’s more impressed she pulled this off than anything else. She’s the clear winner of the day and all he can do is smile and concede that she got she got him real good. Adorable. I love them so much.

~~~~

Side notes I do love Tim questioning when Nolan does anything remotely cool like hang out with Hawke LOL Tim seems slightly underwhelmed with him at all times haha makes me laugh. Sorry John hahaha

I love any and all Capt. Zoe scenes. I forget how much I love her every time I watch her scenes. They gave her a rich background and solid important scenes whenever she graced our scenes.

Cracked me up Talia just walking in and pepper spraying Hawke while he tries to school Tim and Nolan. Lucy backing her up with her taser after Hawke took both down LOL Got too cocky and the girls made him pay ha

Thank you to these incredible blogs for the beautiful gifs to help me relay my thoughts and insights.

chenfordsource

Thesweetnessandthesarcasm

chenfordgifs

Feel free to as always like/comment/reblog as you'd like. Truly enjoy sharing my thoughts with you all. Making this hiatus more bearable and you all doing those things make my heart happy hehe See you all in 1x07 when I post it.

#Caitlin rewatches The Rookie #chenford #tim x lucy #chenford hiatus #summer rewatch #the rookie #tim bradford #lucy chen #lucy x tim #eric winter #melissa o'neil #otp: doing my job #s1 #1x06 The Hawke

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waywardstation · 1 year ago

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Bad Habits

[SEQUEL TO LEARNED BEHAVIOR] Akari thinks it’s funny that she’s essentially trained Lady Sneasler’s kits to tickle Ingo for food. It starts to lose its humor when it progresses to less playful methods, though.

It's been a while since I got a fic out, hasn't it? Long Covid's taken it's toll on my ability to focus and organize, and sadly write, but I still enjoy doing it just as much as before!! It just takes a little longer to pull things together for now ^^; I wrote this after my friends speculated on a possible sequel to the previous minutes fic I wrote.

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

“Ah-hAh! Powder!”

Ingo jumped up from the dojo’s bench with an uncharacteristically-high shout, jerking as if he had been tasered in the back; Powder inadvertently came tumbling out of his coat with the movement, and sprawled onto the ground. The runt seemed unbothered by the jostling; she leapt up and scrambled under her favorite hiding place, the battlefield’s wooden platform, with a plump bean pod between her teeth.

“Good job, Powder!” A fit of giggling from the bench behind him gave away who had orchestrated this, having once again slipped a bean pod into his coat. But this incident had repeated itself enough times by now that Ingo didn’t even need the hint anymore - how did she keep managing to sneak them in?

“I am… aware you find these situations humorous, Miss Akari,” Ingo fixed his crooked cap and smoothed his coat back down, his face flushing somewhat - he was not fond of such an embarrassing weakness of his constantly being exploited. And Akari’s constant incitement encouraged them to start tickling with intent now, rather than doing so incidentally while searching for food. “But I am afraid I must repeat myself; I really must implore you to stop going down these tracks. Do not positively reinforce this, please.”

“Oh come on Ingo, it’s funny!” Akari popped open a pod and munched on one of the beans, brushing it off. His tone sounded a little annoyed or exasperated if she was being honest, but he always got a little defensive after a surprise tickle attack. “They’re just playing with you a little! I mean, it’s not like they’re hurting you or anything, right?”

Ingo remained stern, his expression not one of amusement; it appeared as if he viewed tickling to be just as unpleasant as getting hurt.

“While that is technically true at the moment, I must remind you that they are steadily growing bigger.” He glanced over at Powder momentarily. “This continued behavior is unacceptable, not only because it is inapplicable for wilderness foraging and survival, but because it can also become dangerous for myself, and possibly even other people, as their venomous claws develop.”

The last point especially seemed to put a stop to Akari’s antics; with a look of contemplation, she seemed to consider his words. She was well aware the kits were growing - she got to witness the process almost every day - but she simply had not considered the long-term consequences.

The teen glanced over at Powder beneath the platform, still tearing at her prize with her claws. She knew it would eventually happen, but it was still hard to imagine they wouldn’t always be that size, and of their more subdued temperament.

Ingo’s stern reaction made more sense now.

“I didn’t really think about that.” Akari turned the empty pod around in her fingers. “Yeah, I guess I should stop then. Sorry.”

But by then the damage had already been done, even if Akari herself did stop slipping beans and berries into his coat; the next time Ingo found himself under attack by the kits about a week later, it was entirely unprompted by the teen.

“We’re back!” Akari announced as she entered the training grounds, a basket held securely in her grip, and Zisu and Rei following behind her. Ingo looked over, away from all the sneasel kits he had been entertaining for most of the afternoon - the group had asked him to bring all the sneaslets to work today, so they could see how much they’d grown. The answer was… noticeably.

At the trio’s arrival, all nine kits scrambled towards them in a hurry to greet them, yowling as if they had been separated for thirty years, not thirty minutes. Rei and Zisu happily knelt down to pet them all, but Akari stepped around the tiny sneasels to approach Ingo.

“I take it you all had a pleasant lunch?” The warden questioned, seeming relieved to get a short break from the kits as he watched them swarm his companions. Though, Akari caught the quick glance he threw at the basket in her hands.

“Yeah, it would have been nicer if you had joined us though.”

“I would have if I could.” Ingo’s frown pulled at the mere thought of attempting to bring nine sneasels along, or leaving them unattended at the training grounds to join her, Zisu, and Rei at The Wallflower.

Another glance at the basket. Akari mistook his trepidation for interest.

“I know, I know,” she brushed it off, before holding up the basket. “That’s why we brought you something back!”

Ingo’s expression immediately gave way to worry; it was exactly what he dreaded. “Miss Akari, you really didn’t need to-”

“-No, Zisu insisted!” The teen had expected him to resist. “We know you said you’d be fine, but you’ve been here all day. So we went to Floaro’s, which is why it took so long-”

Akari opened the basket and rooted around inside. She pulled out a Jubilife Muffin, and held it out to him. “-But we got one of these for you!”

Akari made the mistake of presenting it for all of the sneasel kits to see as well. Behind her, Ingo could see a few kits turn their heads towards her, forgetting all about Rei and Zisu in a second. His gratitude was pushed down deeper under another layer of alarm.

“Miss Akari, I appreciate the gesture, but I really couldn’t,” An attempt to prevent the inevitable.

“Really? He added oran berries to these ones, and it’s really good!” She tried to hold the muffin out, in hopes he’d take it.

Ingo barely processed her sentence. His gaze was locked past Akari’s shoulder. Four kits’ eyes were now focused intently on her back, along with Rei and Zisu’s own curious looks going between her and said kits.

“Perhaps later, I will try it,” The warden held his hands up, clearly not accepting the muffin. He wanted her to just put it back in the basket.

Another glance over her shoulder. Akari now had the attention of all nine sneasles. They stalked, approaching her carefully with a few more calculated steps.

“Fine, but it’s not as good when it’s cold,” Akari shrugged, seeming to finally accept his rejection. But by then, it was too late - all nine kits finally took off, racing towards her.

They were actually going to attack Akari.

Her hand still holding the muffin out, Ingo grabbed it and held it for the sneasels to see their original target no longer had what they desired. The horde immediately diverted from their route. They rushed around a surprised Akari, pouncing to instead latch onto Ingo’s pantlegs.

“Mochi, Duchess! Nettle! No-!” Ingo attempted to correct all the eager kits before they could climb any further up his legs. But his stern voice did nothing to stop the sneasels as they continued to knock into him and pile up.

Together, the tiny sneaslets felled their caretaker. With combined tugging on the pant legs and the collective weight of nine sneasels putting him off balance, Ingo was pulled backwards onto the ground. The moment of vulnerability cost him; the sneasel pile swarmed on top of him in seconds, like a flock of hungry staraptor on a single unfortunate cherubi.

The kits got to work immediately; it only took seconds for Ingo’s demands to crumble into hysterics.

“Hey, hEy-! Gh- nOho!” Ingo’s awkwardly-stifled bouts of laughter overtook any attempt to put authority in his voice as the group of sneaslets ganged up on him, pestering his most ticklish spots in hopes that he’d let go of his food. Nudging muzzles, nibbling teeth, and scritching claws - by this point, the kits had learned quite well how to quickly wear Ingo down. It took considerable effort for him not to roll over defensively, his fear of crushing them barely overpowering his desperate reflexes to protect himself. “Please! C-ceASe-! Before one of you- gaH!”

Before anyone could even move to help him, Ingo cut himself off with a sudden exclamation that sounded genuinely surprised, and not in a good way. The horde of sneasels abandoned him as quickly as they had pounced on him, leaving him behind to lie on the ground in front of a stunned Akari.

It only took a moment to become apparent why; their efforts had quickly been rewarded. Balm had managed to pry the muffin from Ingo’s weakened grip and had whipped around to bolt off with his prize as fast as he could, greedy as ever. The siblings’ cooperation instantly dissolved, and the rest of them raced after him in an attempt to steal the prize away, yowling excitedly.

Ingo quickly sat up to defend himself in case another attack would be imminent. But when it was clear the sneasels were too focused on chasing each other, he let out a sigh of relief and reached over to situate his hat back on his head; it had been knocked off in the squabble.

Akari stood there, trying to process what had just happened. Any amusement she normally would have felt gave way to confusion from being caught off guard, then slight concern as she realized Ingo was focused on his hand that previously held the muffin. “…Are you ok?”

“I am alright, but Balm appears to have bitten me… quite hard.” Genuine surprise in his voice overtaking any irritation Akari was expecting, Ingo inspected the soft part of his palm, now peppered with tiny red tooth marks. A few clearly had broken the skin, where new droplets of red began to spring up across his red-smeared palm.

“Here, here,” Akari hastily reached into her satchel for a few scraps of bandaging, handing it to him. The sight of Ingo’s blood dripping down his hand sent a sudden pang of guilt through her. And then that sent another pang when she realized it took Ingo getting hurt to feel this bad about it. “They’ve bitten you before?”

“Yes. However, they have never drawn blood like this.” Ingo wrapped his hand securely, making sure the bandages covered every puncture.

Akari didn't know what to say to that. She glanced back over at the sneasel kits, now roughhousing over mere crumbs by the training ground’s fence, as Zisu helped Ingo back to his feet.

If the kits had ever used their teeth, they always nibbled on him gently enough to just tickle him. They never bit him hard enough to draw blood. And if any kit was going to bite that hard, Akari had expected it to be excitable Chomp, not mild-mannered Balm.

This wasn’t as playful as it used to be.

Ingo’s warning of the kits’ development and all the problems that would come with it popped up into her mind again. Was this happening every time he had any kind of food out around them anymore? Ingo hadn’t wanted to accept the muffin from her at first; was it because he knew this would happen? She had stopped slipping food into Ingo’s coat to encourage them, but had she done it to the point of teaching them to do it independently?

…Perhaps, Akari realized, Ingo’s reason for skipping lunch today had extended further than simply wanting to babysit the kits attentively.

————

Ingo was not at the training grounds. He had been expected there early that morning, but he never showed up.

Akari only waited a total of fifteen minutes before telling Zisu she’d make sure he was ok, and had set out to go look for him. He had promised her an early-morning battle the day before, and he always made a point to follow through with his promises. If he didn’t show up, that meant he either came down with a debilitating illness overnight, he had gotten seriously injured on the way to Jubilife, or the Miss Fortune Sisters had decided to try and roadside rob him… again.

All three were situations he’d need help with though if he still was yet to show up, so Akari had set out immediately, backtracking on his usual route to Jubilife from the highlands.

It had both relieved and worried her that she had made it all the way to the base of Mount Coronet without finding a trace of him. Where was he?

Surely he wasn’t still in Lady Sneasler’s den; it was almost noon by now. But, she had to be thorough. So Akari trekked up the mountainside, taking care to make sure no predatory pokemon were watching her as she deviated from the worn trails, and climbed up the cliffside to the entrance of Lady Sneasler’s den.

“Ingo?” She called out tentatively into the cavern. “Are you in here?”

There was no response.

But… she heard something quiet inside.

Were those the kits she heard? Akari shuffled a bit further in.

Squinting hard as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, Akari bore witness to a massacre.

Nesting material was sifted about in uneven heaps, as if there had been a struggle. A multitude of shining eyes stared wide in the darkness, catching the dull light from outside as several faces kept focus on her. A motionless foot could barely be made out in the dimness underneath them, sticking out of a mass of indistinguishable, furry forms. The familiar black shoe that was expected to cover it was nowhere to be found amongst the site, most likely lost in the nesting layers.

Something had certainly happened here.

“Ingo?” Akari repeated with both a bit more alarm and certainty this time. The small forms with bright eyes collectively went stiff in the darkness, and a muffled groan sluggishly responded. The form beneath the kits moved ever so slightly.

“…Mmmiss Akari..?” The familiar voice slurred, as if half awake from a fever-induced sleep.

A short yet incredibly heavy stretch of silence, as Akari’s mind stalled on what to do.

Was he hurt? How bad was it? Why wasn’t Lady Sneasler here? Did a wild Pokémon try to get into the den, and did it maul Ingo in his efforts to protect the kits? She still couldn’t see all that well, what if he was bleeding out, or-?

One of the many pairs of bright eyes flickered out of view as one of the indiscernible kits lost interest in Akari and lowered their head, presumably back towards Ingo. A second later, a subdued jolt of almost-laughter was heard, and the foot sticking out of the sneasel pile jerked suddenly.

“Taro, no-”

…Oh.

Akari knew what had happened now. She let out a sigh of relief as Ingo continued to chuckle listlessly into the nesting material.

“…S-some assistance, please-“

————

Ingo bit into the pecha berry, wiping away the juice with the back of his hand (which still felt quite sluggish and heavy) as he chewed thoroughly.

At least he could somewhat feel it on his tongue now, and his fingers were beginning to tingle. That was a good thing; it meant the berry was finally starting to lessen the venom’s numbing effects.

Ingo sighed through his nose as he chewed, and rested his head back against the cavern wall; with stiff nerves and muscles, it still took a lot of effort to hold his head up at this point.

He remained there like that for a few moments, until he became aware something had entered the den. A lethargic glance over, and he met eyes with Akari as she approached to sit down next to him.

She had returned from taking all of the kits outside the den, both to wait with them for their mother to return and hear what had happened, and to give Ingo some time to eat his pecha berries in peace, without fear of them attacking him for it.

“Um, Lady Sneasler just got back.” She reported after a moment of silence. “I told her what happened. She’s scolding all the kits right now.”

Ingo could hear her yowling from outside, muffled by the cavern walls. The tone was very upset, even more so than he had expected, if he was honest.

“So they just… attacked you while she was out hunting?” The teen’s eyes flitted away from the cavern entrance back to Ingo, who’s own eyes were still closed. With his gaze off of her, she freely observed the tiny scratches peppered around his skin. They were tinged purple around the edges, faded compared to earlier but still noticeable.

“You’re on the right track.” Ingo paused eating to respond. “I believe they had simply become impatient for Lady Sneasler to return with breakfast, and thought they could instead awaken and pester food out of me as they always do, despite carrying none myself. Yet when I unsurprisingly relented nothing, they grew more aggressive with their efforts, until, well…”

Ingo trailed off. He didn’t have to say anything else, Akari knew the rest of it. He bit back into his berry, static still on his tongue.

“Ugh,” the teen leaned forward, hugging her knees. “Look Ingo, I feel really bad about all this. Like, really, really bad. I’m sorry, they wouldn’t be doing this to you if I hadn’t kept encouraging it.”

Ingo didn’t exactly jump at the chance to defend her as he chewed on his pecha; while he usually took care not to speak with his mouth full, she had a feeling he was more so agreeing with her, but saving face by not voicing it.

And she couldn’t blame him, he had told her to stop more than once.

“…I believe things simply derailed slightly more than you intended.” He summed up instead.

She would accept that. “Yeah, they did.”

Ingo swallowed down the last of his pecha berry and relaxed into the nesting materials, now just waiting for the pecha to continue doing its job. “But, this cannot continue; I must set them back on the right track. As Lady Sneasler’s caretaker, I am also responsible for the development of her young, and their success will reflect my abilities as a warden. They cannot sustain themselves on this method in the wilderness. And if anyone is harmed by this behavior, I will be at fault.”

Akari did not really know what to say to that. “So, um, do you know how to get them to stop doing this?”

It felt incredibly awkward - if not humbling - asking if he knew how to essentially clean up her mess.

Ingo simply shook his head. “I will be honest; a problem has developed that I am unsure how to surpass. This is Lady Sneasler’s first litter that she’s had under my care, and I admit that raising Pokémon entirely from adolescence is a different track from battling alongside them, the latter of which I can only faintly recall explicit experiences with. And they ignore any of my attempts to dissuade them. I am… not entirely sure how to conduct corrections to this specific behavior.”

Akari didn’t quite know either. It had progressed past the point of controlled incidents where it would only happen when she initiated it with a well-placed berry or bean pod, and developed into relentless attacks when food wasn’t even present, but simply desired.

She had no idea how to properly correct something as specific as this. But she felt obligated to at least try and figure it out. She put Ingo in this position, and felt he was being incredibly forgiving by not berating her for doing such a thing in the first place.

Though maybe, he suspected she was already doing that to herself enough.

“Well, look. I kind of did this to you. I’m the one that taught them it was ok to attack people for food.” Akari fiddled with the end of her scarf. “So it’d only be right for me to help, uh, un-teach them. I know Irida’s coming next week to check on them all, and I don’t want to hear you got in trouble because they all attacked her or something.”

The mental image of that disaster seemed to make Ingo chuckle a little bit. She knew he was still under the effects of the poison then, because normally he wouldn’t have considered something like that humorous enough to laugh at.

“The tracks to their desired destination may be long, but help may shorten it. Your assistance in their correctional training would be greatly appreciated,” He finally responded to her offer. His general acceptance eased her guilt somewhat.

“Great. Tomorrow then, we start?” Today would be better, but she didn’t think Ingo would be in any state to start that today.

“Tomorrow fits my schedule just fine.”

#submas #ingo #warden ingo #akari #sneasel #hisuian sneasel #pokemon akari #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends #pokemon #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic #sneasel enrichment gone wrong

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