#any liquid not just clear so that was cool until i threw it up hours later

[moeblob]

Surgery is at 9:45 (finally, thank the heavens cause I'm going insane here at how bad hospital communication is) so! Pen doodles before I'm drugged up on anesthesia.

OCs of mine as a comfort in my suffering (and it's easier in pen bc they're boring designs unlike fanart I'd want to draw).

[wlw-stanbot]

Yelena drank. She drank and threw knives. One. Two. Three. All in the red circle. 10 paces to pull them out again. 10 paces back to her throwing spot. One long drink of clear liquid from a clear glass bottle. Three more throws. The pattern repeated, until the black backing behind the red dot was the only thing she was striking. 

Half a bottle of liquid later, her aim was still true, but her body was failing. The rolling chair was closest. She sat in it, remembering how Kate looked when she was sitting here earlier. Perturbed with Valentina, but hiding it well, keeping her emotions and expressions under control. Kate had learned so much, changed immeasurably since they first met. She wasn’t a child, or a brat, or any of the terrible things she had said. Three more knives flew through the air but the assassin’s legs were too tired to get up and retrieve them. 

Yelena’s hazy eyes wandered to the monitors above her. The house was quiet but she was only watching one screen, the one showing a hallway with a door that had remained open almost every minute for the last few days. The door was closed. She didn’t know if she wanted it to open, and for a moment she imagined driving nails into the frame so it couldn’t. It wouldn’t work though, Kate would just break a window if she wanted to leave. Kate does whatever she wants. Kate wants…wanted her - there’s no way it’s still present tense. 

Lacking a current view on Kate, the alcohol flooding her decision making drew her attention to a small box at the back of the desk, hidden behind the one dark monitor there. She took another swig before reaching for it. Her shaky fingers pawed at the combination, taking an infinite amount of time to enter it. One two one…more vodka…one…god, why are there so many one’s in her birthday? This is not a very secure code… zero two. She kept glancing up at the hallway screen between each number entry. Still no movement. 

The lock clicked and Yelena took a deep breath before opening the small metal box. Inside was the smallest thing. It wasn't a trinket exactly, though someone might mistake it for one. It was a simple silver colored flash drive with a key ring at one end that was attached to a cork sparrow. 

Yelena had put it in there just a few hours ago, and she felt pathetic reaching for it so quickly. But, her need was greater than her embarrassment. She pulled it out and gripped it gently. The softness of the cork contrasted the cool hard metal casing of the flash drive and there was a metaphor here but the assassin was too drunk to see it. 

Up to chapter 13 on this boy...not sure I posted the last one so make sure you read that one first.

<3 You guys (and these guys)

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Word Prompt

Word: Induce WIP: Darkspace Portent Timeline: sometime in M31 CW: Some gross throwing up and medical stuff. Word Count: 627 Additional Notes: this was also inspired by a line from a prompt list I'd made for my 2nd writeblr anniversary that everyone ignored lol

***

"From the beginning, please."

Warren managed to catch a breath around bursts of stinging pain below his sternum in order to push out the next words. "I, uh…I ordered the fish—"

Thrive, pulling a pair of gloves tight over his hands and stepping out of the way of Gouna bustling around the med fac, made a chastising noise. "You were given an unknown alien meat and you failed to use your critical thinking skills before eating it without asking about its origins or chemical makeup."

"Come the fuck on—oh, god, oh god, get this shit outta me—"

Gouna poured a thin tan fluid from a large container into a small cup half full of clear liquid while Thrive calmly yanked the bed to a flat position and shoved Warren onto his back.

"I—" Warren threw Thrive an indignant frown at his aggression, breaking into a cold sweat from the pain. "I thought it would be a good idea."

Thrive carefully pried Warren's jaw open using a finger and peered down the back of his throat with a pencil-thin flashlight. "And how did that work out for you?" he asked. "Soft palate's white and there's inflammation in the esophagus, Gouna."

"Bubbles rising from the trachea?"

"Negative." Thrive lifted the hem of Warren's shirt to his collarbone and palpated his abdomen. "Petechiae on the ribs."

"I've seen this before. It's from a crustacean toxin normally harmless to the lenaya but obviously problematic for humans." Gouna nodded and continued to stir the contents of the cup. "Drink this, Warren. It will induce vomiting; the rest of the meat is still in your stomach and will only make the symptoms worse." He glanced at Thrive. "Please prepare the syringe for the antidote."

Warren squeezed his eyes shut against another wave of hot pain under his ribs. "Could I die from this?"

"Not today, no. You're here with plenty of time to rectify the situation. The toxin takes about fifteen hours to become fatal." Gouna handed Warren the cup.

Thrive filled a small syringe with another clear liquid in the corner of the room. "You will be fine."

Warren raised himself up just enough to gulp the contents of the cup without smelling or thinking about it. It went down surprisingly smooth even if it did have a taste similar to burnt rubber. He coughed and gagged once, but suffered no aftereffects. "Yeah…okay." He winced and clutched his chest. "I trust you guys."

Brandishing the syringe, Thrive moved to Warren's side and nudged the sleeve of his shirt out of the way. "I should hope so." He smirked as he passed a sterilizing gel over his flesh. "I'd be mildly embarrassed if you didn't."

Warren's brows shot up. "Oh? Is this an admission of guilt about not trusting me all that time ago?"

Thrive inserted the needle into Warren's arm with all the patience and serenity of a seasoned practitioner. "I am never wrong. Even when I'm incorrect."

Dregs of nausea began to crop up and Warren tried not to stifle it. "Babe, that doesn't make any fucking sense."

Gouna appeared with a bucket just in time for Thrive to move out of the way and Warren to evacuate his stomach of the poison meat. The room fell silent other than the pitiful sounds of Warren's misery until he had nothing else to expel.

"Fuck," Warren coughed. "Think that's it."

Thrive placed a cool compress against Warren's temple and combed his now-gloveless fingers through his hair. "Rest. I'll be back to check on you in an hour."

"'Kay." Warren stretched out again, thanking Gouna for the blanket he draped over him. "No arguments from me."

Thrive firmly kissed his head and made his exit, and Warren fell into a long, deep sleep.

[hispipsqueak]

Hunger

Beel x F!Reader NSFW

Synopsis: After a chaotic week at the House of Lamentation, you need a night out and your favorite demon is there to accompany you in more ways than one.

A/N: Hello! Here’s another smut of my favorite demon brother. I just really like Beel and so this is some v self-indulgent content. As always, likes and shares are mighty appreciated <3 Also there is a mention of Beel lifting the reader up during this. I HC all the brothers as extremely inhumanly strong and big so they could EASILY lift anyone up regardless of size. I know some people may get uncomfortable with that, but we are inclusive in these parts.

Tags/TW: unprotected sex, drunk/tipsy sex, distracted driving, rough sex, demon sex, drinking, creampie, slight cumflation?

You woke up to the sound of fighting outside your door. 

  “Mammon, I know you took it. That’s LIMITED EDITION Ruri-chan merch, you scum!”

“I didn’t take ANYTHING! Why ya’ always accusin’ me?”

“Are you two going to keep fighting? I’m trying to get beauty sleep! I require at least 9 hours for my youthful complexion!”

“Ridiculous.”

“HEY! Don’t do that!”

“Tell him to give it back!”

“Or what?”

You grabbed your pillow and pressed it against your face. Living with the demons was an...experience, to say the least. You could still make out the muffled voices even through the soft fabric and let out a low groan. You threw open the door.

“Mammon, stop being an ass and give the figure back. Levi, keep your door locked. Asmo, your complexion is fine. SHUT UP.”

The boys stopped yelling and looked at you. It was rare for you to yell at them, but you were TIRED. They had kept you up half the night with pointless arguments and texts asking you to be on their side and you were exhausted from it.

Mammon was the first to speak.

“Yeah, you heard her. You guys keep trying to start fights and it’s exhausting the poor human.” He threw his arm around you, and you groaned. 

“You know what? You clearly don’t listen to me. It’s fine. But you’re gonna regret it. I can’t be so stressed all the time with this. I’m going out tonight. AND I DON’T WANT ANY OF YOU TO JOIN ME!”

Lucifer appeared out of nowhere and glared at you.

“That’s impossible. You know it’s too dangerous for a human to go out by themselves here. I’ll go with you.”

His stare was piercing into your soul, but you stood your ground. You fought the shakiness in your voice.

“No. I made it very clear. I do not want any of you to join me. Respect my decision.”

An audible gasp came from one of the boys. No one stood up to Lucifer. Sure Satan and Belphie argued with him, but coming from you? This was going to be interesting.

“You are not leaving this house without a chaperone. Now you can either stay in, or I will accompany you.”

You narrowed your eyes. And then an idea in the shape of an orange haired demon boy came walking down the hall.

“Fine. I’ll take Beel.”

The rest of the brothers began to protest.

“I’ll go!”

“No, me. She’s my human!”

“Seriously?? Beel?”

“ENOUGH.” Lucifer bellowed, silencing everyone. Before he could continue, you interjected.

“Beel will you go with me to The Fall tonight?”

Beel looked up from his bag of chips. His lack of situational awareness when he was focused on food was astonishing really.

“Of course MC, and we can grab dinner after too.”

You cocked your head at Lucifer.

“Then it’s settled.”

And with that, you turned back into your room and slammed the door.

-----

The night couldn’t come fast enough. You had been ignoring texts and knocks on your door all day from the rest of the brothers and you were ready to go drink, dance, and flirt the night away.

You didn’t expect Beel to do much of either but he was good company and you know he would get the best food in town. As you finished applying your makeup, you heard a knock at the door. Beel’s deep voice rang out.

“You ready, MC?”

You took another look in the mirror. Your black dress accented every curve of your body. The halter top showed off your shoulders and the keyhole cut showed off your cleavage. Your hair was loosely tousled and you spritzed a bit of perfume over yourself before heading to the door. 

“Yeah I’m—” Your voice caught in your throat.

Beel, the goofy, relaxed guy cleaned up WELL. He had a dark leather jacket over a white v-neck that accentuated his muscular figure. He had a few silver chains layered around his neck and a couple silver rings on his hands. He was wearing dark jeans and black boots and...fuck...he looked HOT.

You always knew Beel was attractive, but this...this was new. You had half a mind to cancel the night and drag him into your bed.

You turned away, to grab your handbag and hide your heated face and Beel took the opportunity to stare at you. He had always found you gorgeous, but knowing he was the lucky guy accompanying you to the club had him feeling some type of way. HIs eyes roamed your body and locked on every inch of skin exposed. He could feel his body heat up and when you finally had grabbed your stuff, he prayed you wouldn’t notice his apparent blush.

The two of you headed to his car, a shiny black Ferrari, and he opened the door to let you in the passenger seat. You could tell he had cleaned it, since the usual bed of snack wrappers that adorned the interior were gone. You smiled at the gesture and he waited until you were situated before closing the door and getting in on his side. 

As he drove to the Fall, you admired him. His body was massive and built and his hands, god his hands, looked so good gripping the wheel. You imagined what they would feel like wrapped around your neck or clutching the sheets —

“...I really think it would be cool!”

You blinked. 

“Sorry, I completely spaced out. What?”

He glanced at you and chuckled.

“You look like you’re thinking a lot about something. What’s up?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m just happy I get to have fun tonight.” You shot him a smile.

Beel blushed. “I’m happy I get to hang out with you.”

He pulled into the parking space and opened your door for you. As the two of you walked towards the entrance of the club, he could see a few demons checking you out. He pulled you close to him and wrapped his hand around your waist, before throwing them a dark look.

Your mind reeled. You pressed into him and could smell the spicy scent of his cologne. You hoped the dimness of the club and the thumping music hid how much your heart was beating. You flagged down a waitress for a shot of something and handed one to Beel. The two of you toasted before downing the glasses.

The sweet liquid electrified you and you could feel your body loosen. You looked at Beel to see him licking his lips. He grabbed two more glasses from a passing waiter and passed one to you. Another clink of the shot glasses and this time the drink was rich and fiery as it slid down your throat. As the two of you polished off more drinks, you began to feel restless.

You tugged on his hand, emboldened by the alcohol.

“Dance with me.”

He nodded and let you pull him into the sea of moving bodies.

You pressed yourself against him with your back to his chest. His hands were wrapped around you, gently but firmly pulling you into him. The bass drummed in your body and you threw your head back into him. The combination of alcohol and the crowd, not to mention his fingers sliding down your thighs made your body heat up and you felt so good. 

Beel leaned into you, tilting his head down. His breath tickled your ear, as his low voice whispered. 

“How do you feel, cupcake?”

“Good, so good.” you breathed out, not even sure if he heard you. He must have though, because he twirled you so you were facing him. You looked up at him through your eyelashes. His skin was flushed and he had a cute smirk on his lips. The flashing club lights cast a hazy neon glow behind him. Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips against his.

His mouth tasted sweet and warm. He deepened the kiss as his hands ran down your back, gripping at your ass. Your tongues danced in each other’s mouths and you dug your nails into his shirt, feeling the hard muscles underneath. You could feel his excitement press against your thigh through his jeans and you let out a soft moan into his mouth. 

Beel let out a pained groan. 

“I need you, right now.” he whispered into your neck, pressing hungry kisses down.

“Not here. Home.” you gasped out. While you weren’t against fucking in the club bathroom, Beel was the largest demon there and it would be plainly obvious if you tried to sneak in with each other.

He nodded and pulled your hand as you headed out of the building. You made your way to his car while he continued to kiss and suck on every bit of exposed skin. He pushed you up against the door of the black car and kissed you eagerly.

“Fuck...cupcake, you’re so delicious. Need more of you.”

You moaned. It was taking all of your willpower to not let him bend you over the hood of his car, but you resisted. 

“Take us home and then show me how much you need me.” You whispered into his neck, before leaving a soft kiss. 

As Beel drove, his other hand was gripping your thigh, dangerously close to your heat. You leaned over and kissed down his neck, leaving soft bites on the sensitive skin. He let out a low grunt, and slid his hand up your dress, running a thick finger across your clothed pussy. You were soaked and he could feel your arousal through the thin fabric.

You grinded against his hand, craving any bit of stimulation from him. He pressed his fingers against you, teasing your slit through your clothes. 

The car slowed in front of the House of Lamentation and he pulled his hand away. He turned to you and whispered.

“We have to be quiet.”

The two of you stumbled into the house, looking around for any of the other occupants. It was dark and silent. Beel pushed you against the heavy front door and kissed you deeply. You wrapped your hands around his shoulders as he lifted you up with your back against the door. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he continued kissing your lips, trailing down your neck and shoulders.

“Beel we should go. Someone might see us!” You breathed out, half delirious from how good his mouth felt on you.

“Good. I want them to know you’re mine.” he growled into your skin, leaving what was sure to be dark marks to explain away later.

“Lucifer will kill us.” You giggled, though your resolve was crumbling away with every kiss. Beel grunted, and then pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. His amethyst eyes sparkled from the moonlight.

“Yeah, actually that is a pretty scary thought. Let’s go to your room.”

The two of you crept to your door, being extra cautious when you passed each brother’s room. As soon as you clicked the lock, Beel picked you up and easily tossed you onto the plush bedsheets. 

“Finally.” He growled, before pushing up your dress and pressing hot kisses against your thighs. You let out a soft whimper. He tugged at the thin lacy material covering you and you felt him smirk against you.

“So pretty.”

He slowly dragged them down and pressed his mouth against your folds. His tongue flattened and lapped at your cunt, eliciting a loud moan from you. He circled your clit with his tongue, before sucking it into his mouth. You clawed at the sheets. 

“Fuck...Beel please! Need you.”

He continued his delicious assault on your body, pressing his tongue inside you.

“You taste so good. Please cum in my mouth. Wan’ taste you” He mumbled into your pussy. You writhed against his mouth and you could feel your thighs tense up and attempt to close on him. He gripped into the soft flesh of them and forced your legs apart while he continued, pushing you closer to your release.

“Fuck...Beel! I’m gonna–”, was all you could muster before you felt the rush of your orgasm hit you. He groaned into your cunt as he guzzled you down.  Your eyes fluttered and you tried to push his head away.

“No...mine...so good.” He moaned hungrily. Your body shook against him.

“S’ sensitive, please…” you begged. Beel was the avatar of gluttony and you knew he could spend days between your thighs but you wanted him, all of him.

He pulled away, his face wet with your juices. His eyes were hazy and unfocused and he looked drunk on you. He pulled off his shirt and jeans before pushing you back into the soft bed. You took this moment to take a look at his cock and your eyes widened. Before you could panic, he was on top of you. His silver chains dangled off his neck as he towered over you and his hands held your wrists above your head. You gazed up at him and your breath hitched as he lined his cock up with your entrance. Beel was BIG and you knew it was going to be a tight squeeze. Sensing your hesitation, he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I’ll go slow and tell me if you need me to stop.” He looked at you waiting for confirmation. You nodded and bit your lip.

“Please…” you whispered and he pushed into you.

The stretch was intense and your eyes watered as he eased himself into you. But quickly the pain morphed into an intense pleasure. You felt every vein of his cock press against your walls and he stilled. 

“You okay, cupcake?” 

You nodded, and he pulled slightly out before slowly rocking back into you. You felt so full and started to buck your hips against him. He started fucking into you faster and you cried out as his cock hit the most pleasurable spots inside you.

“Fuck...fuck...fuck. So good! Feel’s so fucking good.” you moaned out as Beel slammed into you. You opened your eyes and noticed Beel had transformed into his demon form. His horns glinted in the light that streamed in from your window and your eyes rolled back. 

“So good. Squeezing me so tight...I wanted this so long. Let me claim you, MC. Make you mine.” Beel grunted as he fucked you into the mattress. You could feel his claws dig into the skin around your wrist and you squeezed your legs around him, pressing him closer into you.

“Yes...I’m yours! Please...fuck me, use me. I need you so goddamn bad!” you wailed, feeling your second orgasm of the night rapidly approach you. He kissed you hard and you tasted the desire on his tongue as you thrashed under him. You could feel the soft walls of your cunt clenching tighter against his cock and every cell in your body was on the edge of explosion. You felt stars dance behind your eyes and you gripped at his biceps, dragging your nails down across the lightly tanned skin.

“I’m gonna–gonna…” Beel grunted, his thrusts getting sloppier and faster. His breath was ragged and he pushed his cock as deep as he could. 

Your pussy clamped down around his cock and you arched your back from the sheets as you gushed around him. Beel’s eyes rolled back and he groaned as he shot his cum deep inside you. You could feel his hot cum spurt into your cunt and he gripped your shoulders tightly as he rode out his release. He slowly pulled out of you, before using two fingers to scoop the dripping cum back into your hole.

“So good. So full.” He mumbled. You looked down and could see the slight bulge from the amount of cum he had filled you with. You laid back down and sighed in satisfaction.

“Fuck that was amazing.” you whispered, suddenly aware of how loud the two of you had been.

He got up and pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

“It really was. I wanna do that again.” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your head. You giggled and buried deeper in his chest.

“Maybe not tonight, but yes we will definitely do that again.” you mumbled into him, smiling as your eyes started to close. Before the both of you drifted off to sleep, your eyes widened.

“Beel!” you whispered, startling him awake, “We never got dinner!”

It was silent for a moment before the two of you burst into laughter. Beel grinned before softly speaking.

“It’s strange MC. When I’m with you, I don’t feel as hungry. It’s like another part of me is full.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. A soft smile danced on your lips and you kissed him, pouring as much love into the kiss as possible. You pulled away and buried yourself into the crook of his neck, and as your breath slowed and you fell deeper into sleep, Beel wrapped himself around you and let himself rest.

[americxn]

Welcome to the Cortez

James Patrick March x GN!Reader

《 as a detective, the reader attempts to infiltrate James’ life at the hotel for information regarding several disappearances centred around the Cortez 》

requested by @just-some-lesbian - the original request asked for smut, it is likely that I will write a part two and incorporate smut into that but this scenario seemed too heavy and inappropriate for smut. (I’ll write out the headcanons you requested too, I just really liked this idea and wanted to turn it into a full fic!)

wordcount: 3.8k warnings: swearing, blood, violence, gore, death

Your stomach leaped as James opened the door, a mere second following the last rap of your knuckles against the hard wood. Dressed in his usual finery, his appearance sucked all moisture from your throat, your fingers betrayingly stiff as you expected the hand he held out to you. You had been meeting twice weekly with the man, your nervousness in his presence seeming to only grow with each dinner you were subjected to; this evening, your nerves were at an all time high. This wasn’t a scheduled meeting. Several hours ago, Mr. March had instructed Miss Evers to invite you for an impromptu meeting that evening, which could only mean bad news for you, an undercover detective that had been secretly prying into the several recent disappearances at the Cortez, Mr. March being your prime suspect.

“Come in, dearest. You look wonderful.” He drawled, leading you into the all too familiar room, full plates of food and tall glasses of wine already ornamenting the long dining table. You thanked him, allowing him to lead you through the twice weekly routine: pulling out your chair, pressing a swift kiss to your temple and offering you a cigarette before skirting around the table to his own chair, the brush of his fingertips on your shoulder a cold, lingering touch as he moved away from you. “So, why did you call me here?” You enquired, taking a deep drink of your wine in the hopes that it would quell your nerves, your words presenting a feigned confidence. “Not that I mind, of course.” You adding quickly, causing James to smile softly as he glanced down at his food. Your own stomach growled quietly, the fragrance of the food beckoning; James never ate in your presence and out of caution, you didn’t dare touch the food either. “I just wanted to see you again, my apologies for any convenience.” He’s lying. You smiled pleasantly, looking down at your plate in faux flattery. “No convenience at all, James. You know I always look forward to our dinners.” Now who’s lying? You silenced your inner voice, taking another sip of your drink, utilising the opportunity to scan the room over the rim of your glass, looking for anything out of place that could potentially raise alarm. James never did anything without ulterior motives. That was something you had learned very quickly; he always had a reason for everything. James matched your easy smile, taking a swig of his own drink, some sort of liqueur. Strong liqueur, if the smell of it was any indication; he was always drinking but you had never seen the alcohol hold any effect over the man. You had always just written it off as high tolerance, but watching him now as he drained the remaining liquid from the glass before immediately filling it back to the brim, the ice softly clinking from within, it tugged at some part of you, willing you to question why. The room fell into awkward silence, your eyes flicking back to James as you lowered your glass, setting it gently back onto the table. He was already staring right at you, his eyes dark and gleaming with something you couldn’t place as they searched your face. You blinked at him, shifting slightly on your seat, his intense gaze unsettling. The corners of his mouth rose, almost as if he knew he was making you uncomfortable and took pleasure in it. “So, uh, you were telling the me other night about those hotel renovations. How are they going?” You took absolutely no interest in whether or not James recent renovations to the Cortez were going successfully or not, but asked anyway, if other to clear the awkward tenor of the room. “Progression is slow, but I suppose that perfection can’t be rushed.” He responded mildly, his eyes still trained on you. Clearing your throat, you nodded, your spine prickling in warning. Leave. There was no ignoring the voice whispering from the darkest pocket of your mind, not as James cocked his head, predatory intent settling over his pale features. Your stomach tightened to the point of pain, your eyes dropping in a vain attempt to avoid his vindictive scrutiny. “Well James, I appreciate you having wanting to see me this evening but I’m feeling kinda tired. Do you mind if I go back to my room? Sorry, I know I haven’t been here for long.” James’ mouth quirked upwards at your timid explanation, taking another long sip of his drink before leaning forwards, his eyes flicking down to the fist you had laid on the table before you, your fingers tight with stress. “Yes, I do mind.” Your mouth went thoroughly dry, your mouth parting in surprise. “I dismiss you. And I’ll be damned if I let you leave so soon.” All coherent thought cleared from your mind at his statement, his dark eyes filling with utter amusement at the mask of alarmed surprised that slipped over your features. “What do you mean?” You ventured, your feet shifting beneath the table, soles pressing firmly into the floor, readying to flee from the man if this interaction grew any more worrying. He seemed to blindly track the moment, his self-satisfied smirk only growing. “I mean, I’m not permitting you to leave yet.” He spelled the words out for you, taking pleasure in employing a condensing tone into his voice. Your spine straightened, your eyes flicking around the room to ensure that there was no one hidden within the dark corners of the space; James was an odd, eccentric man, his energy charged with a strange humour. But even for him, this situation was uncomfortably disarming. “You don’t get to ‘permit’ me to do anything.” You breathed, pushing back your chair slightly as you readied to stand, wanting nothing more than to be out of this room and away from the man before you. James sat back, his eyes twinkling in the light of the candles scattered across the surface of the table between you. Pulling the small silver case from his breast pocket, he flicked it open with a thumb, surveying you darkly as he took a cigarette and tapped it on the lid. A lighter appeared in his other hand, a spark flashing before a small flame sprung up; James lifted the cigarette to his lips, storing it between his teeth as he brought the flame up, a swift inhale lighting the cigarette. “You’re prying around my hotel. I would be inclined to argue that I can permit you to do as I please.” His words clanged through you. Prying.| Taking a glance to the side of the table, your eyes landed on the smaller wooden table beside the one you dined on; several platters, their contents spilled on the plates before you and James, resided on a silver tray atop it, but you didn’t miss the gleaming slice of the edge of a knife, almost completely hidden from your view behind a large bowl full of untouched buttered vegetables. Flicking your eyes away from the knife, careful to keep your possible intentions hidden from the sly man before you, you focused all of your attention on his predatory scrutiny, not daring to so much as shift under his stare. “I want to leave.” You stated firmly, growing increasingly anxious as to the real reason he called you here, and having absolutely no intention of staying in his presence long enough to find out. “You don’t get to leave until I dismiss you.” “Then tell me why you actually called me here.” You threw your words across the table at him without hesitation, every nerve in your body attempting to recoil from his dark gaze as his eyes widened with glee. “I have a sneaking suspicion that you already know full well why I called you here... detective.” You were on your feet the moment he uttered the first syllable of that condemning title, your chair falling onto the floor as you reached over the dining table, your fingers straining to reach the knife winking at you from the silver tray. The carving knife was as long and cruel looking as you had hoped it would be, a cool weight in your palm as you pushed away from the table, twisting towards the exit and preparing to step over your fallen chair. You squealed in surprise when, instead of meeting open air, you slammed into a hard, suit covered body, the knife in your hand tilting and driving up into his stomach; it was a reflex, a terrible, terrible reflex and your mind emptied as you stared at the hilt in your hand, already slick with hot blood, the blade fully submerged is his gut. Your eyes were wide as your gaze travelled up his body, his own already trained on your face, his head tilted to the side with what you could only describe as curiosity. You recoiled in horror, the edge of the table hitting the backs of your thighs as you released your hold on the knife, his blood running in hot rivers down your hand and wrist, dripping onto the tips of your shoes as James’ mouth curled upwards in a slow, predatory smile. “That was one of my favourite shirts.” He mused, gripping onto the simple handle of the carving knife and drawing it from his abdomen with a flourish. You gaped at him, rooted to the spot as the sharp intruder was removed from its burrow, expecting him to collapse to the floor as a torrent of blood spurted in wake of the knife. A multitude of questions formed on your lips as you watched him take a step towards you, frozen as he chucked the knife onto the table behind where you stood motionless with a loud clatter, his hand bloody. All words dissipated into the cold air as James reached up, looking right at you as he pulled his signature neck tie away from his throat, the fabric immediately drinking in the thick coating of blood on his pale fingertips. Ripping open the top button on his neatly laundered shirt with one hand, his smirk turned positively feral as your eyes widened, your jaw falling slack as you beheld the fleshy chasm marring the base of his pale throat, sinew and torn tissue exposed in a deep slice. “An admiral effort, darling. But you can’t kill the dead.” You lurched to the side, stumbling over the long legs of the capsized chair as every nerve in your body bleated in terror, urging you to put as much distance between you and the ghost leering before you as possible. The floor swooped towards you as you lost your footing, only just managing to recover before your body slammed into the soft carpeted ground. It took a matter of seconds for you to cross the room, your palms slamming into the surface of the door as you ran at it, unable to slow your momentum as you reached for the handle, wrists creaking at the impact. Pulling the door open, you threw a sparing glance over your shoulder, your racing mind slowing as you beheld James standing motionless where you left him, his bloodied neck tie discarded on the table as he placed another cigarette between his lips, watching you with an amusement disposition as he coaxed a flame from the lighter. Time seemed to slow as you turned back around, Sally appearing before you on the threshold of the room, her lipstick-smeared smile teary as she reached forwards, taking ahold of the side of your head and slamming it into the wall to your left with a savage force, hard enough to cause the world to slip away into blackness. 

Reality presented itself to you in throbbing waves, light infiltrating your lightly shut eyelids, coaxing you to stir with a small groan. Your allowed your eyes to open, trying to pull a hand to your throbbing temple; in your dazed exhaustion, your inability to move your hand failed to register as you forced your eyes open wider, the dim light of the room aiding in the slow process of pulling your mind back to full consciousness. James surveyed you from across the room as you stirred, the artful pleasure he took in having you at his disposal evident in the neatly tied ropes that secured your wrists to the centre of the dining table you had sat at hours earlier, your torso stretched to the edge of the table, your legs dangling freely off the side. He walked slowly to you as you turned your head, your eyes alight with terror as the brutal seriousness of your situation settled over you. James smiled warmly as you beheld him, hot, unrestrained tears already sputtering from the corners of your eyes as you watched him near, dressed in a fresh shirt, another necktie neatly secured around the base of his throat. You moaned in defeat as he paused by your head, taking a long pull on the old fashioned pipe clutched in his pale, slender fingers. You jerked away from him as he dropped his cold gaze to your face, physically recoiling from his stare and shifting on the surface of the table as far as the ropes would allow. “I’ve spent a long while thinking of what, exactly, I wanted to do to you.” You felt physically ill at his words, the pounding headache racking your temples doing nothing to soothe the sudden roils of nausea.  “But then I realised,” he began, his mouth quirking to the side as he leant down, running the tip of his finger down the side of your wet face from your ear to the sharp angle of your jaw, “why should I have to choose just one scenario?”  You willed your mind to fade back into unconsciousness, your mouth turning utterly dry as his finger completed its journey down the side of your face.  “You knew.” You groaned quietly, James’ eyes flicking from the exposed length of your throat to your lidded eyes.  James didn’t need an elaboration to know what you were talking about. “Of course I knew. I was made aware of your prying intentions from the moment that you stepped foot into my hotel.” His face blurred through your gathering tears, pouring down the sides of your face and disappearing into the wisps hair just above your ears. At your silence, he sighed, withdrawing his finger from where it rested on the line of your jaw, ensuring that his nail scraped against your soft skin as he did so. You flinched, looking up at his harsh face. “Aren’t you curious to know what I’m planning to do with you?” Your chin wobbled at his question, the hesitant shaking of your head in response worsening the pain radiating through your skull; your very scalp felt tight, with pain or fear, you could’t tell. Perhaps both. James tutted in disappointment, moving to sit on the table just above your head, your eyes straining to follow him as your chin lifted slightly, terrified to take your eyes off him for so much as a second. “Well, I suppose I can let you in on my plans. It’s not as if you have anywhere else to be.” He winked down at you, malicious cruelty twinkling in his eyes. He was toying with you, taking twisted delight in watching your eyes shutter with terror. “Cruel bastard.” You hissed quietly, shrinking away from him once more in regretful fear as soon as the words were spoken. “Yes.” James mused simply, taking another puff on his pipe, directing the exhaled smoke down at your face. “Yes, I suppose I am.”  He closely tracked the movement in the column of your neck as you swallowed thickly, a dim ache glowing in the back of your throat as you fought to keep your cries contained, a wave of sobs trying to claw their way out of you, threatening to spill over. “As I was saying.” He continued, his eyes locking with yours as he explained with brutal simplicity: “I intend in killing you first.” The air caught in your throat, your worst suspicions confirmed with condemning simplicity. But James continued, elaborating further: “As I’m sure you have come to realise, no one really dies in this hotel. Therefore, once I’ve taken your life, you will be unable to leave these grounds and your eternal punishment will begin.” The fruitful information that he had just provided you regarding the supernatural nature of the hotel fell deaf on your ears as his final statement settled over you. “No, James! Please. Please, I’ll leave. I’ll leave this hotel and not say a word, I swear.” He smirked in response to your frantic words, pulling a short, slender blade from his breast pocket. You shrieked, bringing your legs up onto the table and twisting your torso away from him, your eyes squeezing shut as his cold grasp settled on your wrist, holding your trembling arm still as he cut the rope securing you to the table in one smooth motion. One of your eyes cracked open hesitantly as he did the same with the second coil of rope, the two of you moving in synchronisation, anticipating one another’s next move as you pushed yourself upright, lurching forwards; James’ arms wrapped tightly around your torso, pulling you back to him before your toes could so much as skim the deep red carpet. A sob bubbled up from your chest as your body collapsed into his, your arms clawing at the hands he had secured around your waist in savage desperation, his lips moving to your ear. You stilled as his warm breath settled over the side of your face. “Plead all you want.” He sneered, his voice a low growl in your ear. “In fact, I prefer it.” You clenched your teeth, lunging forwards in his hold with a cry of indignation; it was an attempt made in vain, his hold was too strong. “Are you familiar with my black closet?” He crooned, taking immense pleasure in your futile struggling. Groaning despairingly, your head fell forwards as more tears built and spilled, staining your hot cheeks with salty streaks. “Let me show you. And then you get to make a choice.” James slid off the table, taking you with him, forcing you to stand and heaving your body across the room, through a small archway set into the wall and depositing you in the large room that served as James’ personal bedroom and living space. With a harsh kick to the back of your calf, he forced you deeper into the room, spinning you around to face him and gripping onto your jaw, forcing your head up and exposing the flesh of your throat to him. You reached up, hitting at his chest and clawing at his face. In his other hand, a cruel, curved blade was summoned into his grip, the metal cold as he pressed it to your throat. You froze, your breath catching as your eyes searched his, pleading silently with him. “It’s your choice.” He grunted, eyes bright with perverted excitement. “Choice?” You repeated on a stammering breath as he pressed the wickedly sharp blade further into he soft flesh of your neck, itching to rip into skin, to spill blood. James’ eyes flicked over your shoulder, an exalted smile curving his lips upwards as he applied even more pressure to the knife at your skin, his other hand coming to grip the back of your neck, pulling it towards the instrument at your throat. Small scarlet beads of blood appeared around the sharp edge, igniting a pyre of utter dread within you. You took a step back, James closely mirroring your actions, closing in on you. Heart hammering at his close proximity, you stepped back, again and again, your eyes frantically searching his, his own glowing in building excitement as he backed you to the wall. Your back bumped against the edge of the room, cruel amusement slipping onto James’ face. The wall behind you gave way slightly as he pressed you even further into it. “Excellent choice.” He uttered darkly, eyes flashing before he allowed the knife at your throat to fall to the floor, his hand coming to rest on your chest. Your brows furrowed, your relief at the removal of the blade at your throat short lived when he gave your chest a sharp shove.  The wall behind you parted entirely, James quickly driving you into very small, dark room, the air suffocatingly stale, his force on your chest causing you to stumble back. A blinding pain ignited in your lower back and you cried out, straining to push away from whatever was causing the pain. But James’ body proved an impenetrable barrier and he gripped onto your throat with both hands, driving you even further into the room. An ungodly scream ripped from your throat as the pain worsened, your insides bleating as they were unforgivingly torn through, bone splintering, skin ripping and stretching. James’ face was alight with perverted satisfaction, your shoulder blades hitting the wall behind you. Pain like you had never know radiated outwards from your centre, your hands falling to your stomach as more burning pain grew from the front of your abdomen, akin to the one at your back. James landed a harsh kick to the front of your thighs and with a sickening crunch, your full back collided with the wall, your mouth parted in a silent scream as the world spun, dangerously close to pulling you under.  You prayed that it would, begging the darkness to quell the unbearable pain radiating through every nerve of your body. Your hands fell onto something hard and slick with warmth. In the dark, it was almost impossible to make out what it was and the sickening spinning of your pain fogged mind only made it more difficult to decipher what you were touching. James watched on in eager delight, releasing his constricting hold on your throat, allowing your head to fall forwards. The world tilted on its axis as you beheld the impossibly thick wooden stake running straight through your stomach, your blood running off the dull end, it’s surface marred with deep gashes and bumps; it pried your flesh apart, your hands completely covered in the blood that ran in torrents down its length, dripping from the blunt tip and pooling around James’ feet. James leaned in as the corners of your vision began to fade, your body beginning to slump around the stake that held your upright.  You felt utterly numb, the pain dimming as the world was swept away. “Welcome to the Cortez.” He whispered, pressing a sickeningly sweet kiss to your temple before every sense of life slipped from your limp grasp, consciousness and feeling fading into blissful nothingness.

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins

[thatfragilecapricorn30]

Prompt: Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.

thank you anon! i hope you like this. i'm still accepting prompts based on this list if anyone wants to send one!!

msr | ftf missing scene | 1k | tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder startled awake with a gasp. His head was pounding and his vision blurred, but those symptoms were nothing compared to the painful tingling of his extremities. Mulder was lying on a metallic floor with just an emergency blanket pillowed under his head. A figure - a woman - moved closer and held out a cup.

“Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”

The woman gripped the back of his neck and helped him sit up enough so he could swallow the cool liquid without choking. It would have been nice if the drink was warmer, but it soothed his dry throat nonetheless.

When his blurred vision finally cleared, Mulder could see that it wasn’t just any woman, it was his partner. The memories of the past 36 hours began rushing back: Scully’s anaphylactic shock, the gunshot wound to his head, and a race across the world to save her.

“Scully,” he croaked, his voice still weak along with the rest of his body.

“Mulder,” she stated simply and smiled tentatively at him. Her face was pale under the bright red frostbite on her cheeks. Combined with her wet titan hair clinging to her skin, she could have been a siren, if the water of Antarctica was liquid instead of frozen.

Mulder sat up quickly, filled with relief that they were both alive and apparently safe. They were in the sno-cat he “borrowed” from the scientific research facility, which was his first stop on arrival to the continent. The only light inside came from a portable lantern, but the heater was pumping out hot air, which brought the indoor temperature to a more habitable degree than outside. Though the heater had its work cut out for it, as high winds whipped across the metal frame, sending bursts of cold air through the parts of the sno-cat that had poor seal. The storm must have started after they made it to the vehicle.

“How did we get here? How long have I been out?” Mulder asked. The last thing he actually remembered was the alien spaceship, the one that Scully somehow missed.

“I’m not sure exactly,” she whispered, her eyes wide and incredulous. “I think we helped each other get here, because I only remember parts of the journey. But you were unconscious only about twenty minutes. You passed out as soon as we climbed inside.”

Mulder marveled at whatever forces allowed two very sick and injured people to miraculously survive such harsh conditions and very low odds. Even though they weren’t out of the woods (or ice) yet, the fact that they made it this far made Mulder extraordinarily more optimistic than any person in their situation should be.

Scully was still thinking practically though. “Mulder, were you shot?” she asked, pointing to his forehead.

“Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing his temples. “Right after you passed out in my hallway. I’m okay, though,” he added after seeing her shocked expression. Luckily the bullet had only grazed him, but it did leave him with a nasty headache that was returning in full force.

“How are you doing?” he squinted at her. It was hard to do any type of assessment in the low light of the lantern.

“I’m fine,” she responded. “Just weak.”

“Here, you should drink some of this too,” Mulder said, holding out the cup.

She shook her head and turned away. “I already tried, but I threw it up. I don’t have the energy for more vomiting.”

Some of Mulder’s optimism began to slip away. He gave her the vaccine but who knew what kind of side effects it had? Who knew that it even worked in the first place?

To make matters worse, Scully began coughing, large gasps that wracked her whole frame.

When she finished, she was out of breath. Okay, time to get out of here, he thought, moving to the driver’s seat of the sno-cat.

“Mulder, we can’t go anywhere until the storm lets up. There is basically no visibility right now.”

“Scully, I don’t know if there is time to wait,” he responded, concerned about both the gas and Scully’s declining state.

She crawled over to the seat and grasped his arm. “Please, Mulder. If we get lost and run out of gas, then we’re really screwed. We have enough gas to keep the heater going for a few more hours before we have to make our way to the research facility.”

He looked at her and raised his eyebrows, surprised that she was so knowledgeable about the sno-cat's limitations. It was a wonder she was even alive, let alone thinking clearly.

“While you were asleep, I looked at the maps and did some fuel calculations,” Scully said in between coughs.

Mulder stared at her, a big grin on his face. She really was incredible. They were both definitely suffering from hypothermia, not to mention Mulder’s gunshot wound and Scully’s exposure to an unknown alien virus, but somehow they were going to make it out alive. He had a good feeling about it.

“How many more hours exactly?” he questioned.

Scully checked the clock on the dashboard. “Two hours and forty-six minutes.”

Mulder smiled again. “Why don’t you try to sleep and I’ll watch to see if the storm lets up?” He also wanted to monitor her condition without her realizing it.

Scully disagreed. “Unfortunately, I think we need to stay awake. You most certainly have a concussion and we’re both experiencing hypothermia. The last thing you want to do is fall asleep.”

Mulder conceded, “Okay, well then you need to at least keep warm. You should sit in front of the heater so that your hair will dry.”

“Mulder, I don’t want to take up all the heat,” she argued back, still concerned more for his well-being than her own.

He gently guided her so that she was seated on the floor, her head level with the air vent from the dashboard. “I insist. I’m going to need you to navigate later, so I can’t have you turning into a popsicle.”

Surprisingly Scully didn’t argue any further. She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the hot air envelop her. Mulder pulled the zipper of her oversized jacket all the way to the collar, moving the hood so that her hair could dry. He grasped her hands and brought them to his mouth to blow warm air onto them, trying to speed up the process.

“Mulder?” she asked, eyes still closed.

“Yes, Scully?”

“Can you sing so I don’t fall asleep?”

“Ouch, my singing can’t be that bad!” he joked.

“No, you have a nice voice. I just need something to concentrate on to stay awake,” she explained.

Mulder thought back to another cold night spent out in the wilderness, cuddled with Scully to keep warm. He watched the icy storm rage outside but felt hopeful anyway. They were together - and alive. That’s all Mulder could ask for.

He began to sing.

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Crowley x Reader • You look like you've gone through hell•

Trigger Warning: mentions abuse and violence

This is an older fanfic I wrote some years ago but I still like the plot, please forgive me my shitty writing from back than 😂

A door slammed loudly and woke you up, angry footsteps followed and something was thrown to the ground, shattering on the wooden floor.

You flinched and looked at your alarm clock on your nightstand with sleepy eyes: 2 o'clock in the morning...

The door to the bedroom was slammed open and you already knew what was going to happen.

Scared you hid under your blanket, acting as if you would sleep.

But your boyfriend didn't care about it. He grabbed you by your shoulder and pushed you out of the bed: "Make me something to eat!", he ordered as you whined because you had hit the nightstand with your shoulder.

Without a word you stood up and went downstairs in the kitchen, making a Peanut-butter-jelly sandwich and placing it on the table.

You heard your boyfriend stomping down the stairs and mentally prepared for whatever he might get angry with you again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!", he yelled, pointing at the sandwich and threw the plate to the ground. "A sandwich?! I'm hungry and you dare to make me a sandwich?!"

With every word he walked nearer to you and was now standing right before you. You could smell the alcohol he had been drinking like every night and didn't dare to look him in the eyes. Angry he pushed you and you fell backward, hitting the oven behind you once again.

"Go and get me a pizza."

With tears in your eyes, you rushed into the bathroom. Your reflection in the mirror showed a pale girl with deep eye rings, bruises all over your body and a skeleton like build.

Tears swell up again as you saw yourself in such a bad state.

As tears rolled down your cheeks you asked yourself how it had come to this. When it had started that he hit you. When the good times had stopped. You sobbed and buried your face in your hands.

"(Y/N)!", you could hear him yelling out of the living room. "Go, now!"

Sniffing you pulled yourself together, wiping the tears away, put some makeup on and tied your hair into a messy bun before you walked out of the bathroom again.

Your boyfriend was sitting on the couch, watching some sort of porn and had another bottle of beer in his hand.

You opened the front door and the cool air hit you, immediately crawling under your t-shirt and sweatpants.

Shivering you walked through the empty streets, passing closed stores and full bars.

In front of one bar, you suddenly felt the urge to stop. You knew it wasn't a good idea to go drinking now since your boyfriend would beat the crap out of you when you come back in the morning but you didn't care right now. Determined you opened the door and walked straight to the counter, you sat down on one of the stools and studied the small menu, not sure what you wanted to order to drink yourself away.

"Two Whiskeys, please.", a deep voice next to you ordered and the next second you had one in front of you. Wondering you turned around to get a look at the man next to you.

He looked handsome with his black suit and his bristly beard, on his lips played a charming smile and he looked at you with mysterious eyes.

"Hello, darling", he greeted you and sipped at his Whiskey.

Suddenly you recognized the man. It had been years since you met him and you had nearly forgotten him but now he was sitting in front of you: Crowley, the King of the Crossroads.

"May I ask your name?", he asked politely, it seemed like he didn't recognize you yet, no wonder because of the way you looked now.

" It's (Y/N).", you smiled weakly.

This name rang a bell in his head, he narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a second before he finally recognized you: "(Y/N)?? My god, what happened to you?"

"Ironically for the king of the crossroad to talk about god", you chuckled, trying to change the subject.

" It's King of hell now.", he corrected you with a haughty look and crooked smile.

"Oh,", you answered in surprise. "So you moved up the ladder, huh?", you swayed the Whiskey in your glass, watching the liquid swirl.

"Now tell me what had happened to you. You look like you've gone through hell, and I must know it."

Sighting you took a long drink from your Whiskey before you cleared your throat: "My boyfriend became a pisshead and found fun in beating me up."

That was all you had to say about it, it explained everything and you rather stayed short about your problems since you didn't want any pity.

You gulped the rest of the whiskey down and felt the familiar burning in your throat. Crowley passed you his glass and you took it thankfully.

His face got serious: "Why haven't you left him?"

"I couldn't.", you replied between sips. " He is the only one left in my life. I would have nowhere to go and if I go who knows what he might do to me."

He looked at you as if someone had hurt his puppy: "Do you still love him?"

You needed to think for a moment, it wasn't easy to answer this question. You still loved the man he had been, when you looked at old pictures you felt butterflies in your stomach but then you looked at him now and it felt like somebody was stabbing those butterflies, leaving nothing but an empty feeling and sadness.

"No..", you answered Crowley's question with a shaking voice and attempted to gulp the rest of the Whiskey down again but Crowley stopped you, taking the glass out of your hand and putting it back on the counter: " Don't waste the good stuff, darling."

You sighed again, running your fingers over your face and through your hair.

"You know, I could help you.", he stated and you huffed amused: " I'm still not gonna make a deal, Crowley."

"How sad...But I already doubt it.", he said and stood up.

A feeling of disappointment grew inside you as you heard him walk away.

Maybe you should have made a deal. Crowley's hell couldn't be worse than your hell on earth.

You flinched as suddenly someone placed his hand on your hip and a hot breath brushed your right ear: " I'm still going to help you, love.", Crowley behind you whispered.

Your body tingled at his touch and his low voice like it hasn't done in years.

It felt so much better than the burning of whiskey in your throat.

"And how do you wanna do that?", you finally asked as the wave of desire had finally stopped rushing over you.

"Let's say...", he lightly kissed your neck. "He fell down the stairs and broke his spine..."

Crowley knew exactly damn well which buttons he needed to push to get the reaction out of you he wanted.

You bit your lip and inhaled sharply.

"Why would you do that for me? What are you hoping to get in return?"

He chuckled: "Oh, I already did it."

And with that, his hand left your hip and he was gone, leaving you uncertain about if he had said the truth.

Back at home, you found your boyfriend lying on the floor, unconscious but still breathing.

You called an ambulance and they first wanted to take you with them to take a look at your bruises and wounds but you were able to shrug them off.

Now you were sitting on the couch, staring into the black tv screen and didn't know what to do.

Meanwhile, Crowley visited your boyfriend in the hospital, he appeared in his room with a cocky grin on the face and his hands in the pockets of his black suit.

"Hello, Zac." [Let's just call him Zac], Crowley greeted and Zac jumped in surprise, letting out a quiet scream.

"What the hell?!", he yelled and threw a glass after Crowley, but he easily eschewed it.

" That's where I come from, I'm impressed you noticed it so fast.", Crowley chuckled and Zac looked at him with terror as Crowley's eyes switched to red and back.

"I heard you will never be able to walk again. Must be worse for a football player."

Zac stared at him with furious eyes, not really getting where this was going.

Crowley calmly walked towards the bed, Zac was sitting on.

"I could give you your legs back. You would be able to walk again and play football", Crowley's smirk grew as he saw how Zac was thinking about it. "What do you think?"

"What do you want in return?"

"Your soul."

Zac eyes narrowed in disbelief: "H-how?"

"Oh, you don't have to do anything for it. I'm just gonna claim it someday.", Crowley licked his lips, already knowing that Zac was about to say yes.

"Okay, deal.", he finally said and Crowley grinned once again. "I still can't feel my legs. Isn't the deal sealed yet?"

"It's sealed with a kiss."

"No way!", Zac shouted and Crowley sighted: "Normally our girl demons do the boys but there was no one available today, sorry."

With a disgusted expression, Zac pressed his lips onto Crowley's and pulled away fast.

"It was a pleasure to make a deal with you.", Crowley said and disappeared again.

At home you still sat on the couch, staring blankly at the tv screen.

Suddenly you heard a rustle behind you and turned around, only to see Crowly standing in the kitchen.

He had lifted his right foot and looked at it grossed out: " I knew it wouldn't be neat and tidy here because I haven't announced that I would come over but I wouldn't have expected that.", he said and pointed at the pb&j sandwich which was now sticking under his shoe.

A giggle escaped your mouth and he smiled softly at you before he whipped the sandwich away.

"We don't have much time, darling. Zac will be here in at least one hour so we need to hurry.", he said and grabbed your coat from the closet next to the door.

" What, how? The doctors told me that he wouldn't be able to walk again.", you asked puzzled and stood up.

"I made a deal with him, he can walk again. Now get your favorite belongings so that we can go.", he explained to you and you looked at him in disbelief. " So you only 'helped' me to make a deal with him?", you asked angrily.

Crowley walked over to you and looked you deep in the eyes as he spoke: "No, the other way around, love. I made a deal with him to help you. He only got three days until I'll claim what is mine."

You bit your lip and quickly turned away, walking upstairs to pack a bag with your clothes.

'(Y/N), don't even think about it!', you thought to yourself. 'He's the King of Hell and only playing with you!'

A bit grumpy about yourself you threw your clothes in your bag, hurried in the bathroom to get all your stuff and then rushed down the stairs.

Crowley noticed the grumpy look on your face: "Everything okay, darling?"

"S-sure,", you stuttered. " We can go."

He narrowed his brows, questioning himself what might be up with you, then he showed you a piece of paper: "I wrote him a goodbye letter from you. Maybe this will stop him from searching for you."

Surprised you took and read it: "Dear Zac, I'm sorry but I can't live like this anymore. I wish you the best. Love, (Y/N)."

"Did I hit your tone?", he asked and you just nodded, placing the paper on the kitchen table.

Your eyes rested on an old picture from you and Zac. He had an arm around your shoulders and kissed you on the cheek.

It felt wrong for you to go now, to just leave him since you always hoped he would get better again. But deep inside you knew that you had lost him.

Crowley laid his hands on your shoulder and turned you around: "We need to go now. He doesn't deserve this look on your face.", he said caring and before you knew it he had teleported you with him.

A bit dizzy you looked around in the new room.

It smelled and looked like a hotel room, there was one small bed beside a window, a little nightstand next to it and another door on the opposite, you guessed that there would be a bathroom behind.

"This was the best I could get in this short time, I hope it's okay, my queen.", Crowley said as he scratched his head.

You walked over to the bed, acting like you overheard his nickname for you and placed your bag on it.

"It's fine, don't worry.", you answered and failed to hide a smile.

The way he cared for you was so sweet and made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Are you going to stay with me the next days?", you asked with a bit of hope in your voice.

" No, I have some business to do. I'm sorry, darling", he answered and you sighted in disappointment.

"But I'm going to leave two of my men here. They will watch after you and protect you from Zac."

He snapped his fingers and two men appeared in the room, next to the door.

Crowley walked over to you, bend forward and whispered in your ear: "Don't go outside alone and don't do something stupid. I know you. Be a good girl, for me, okay?"

Shivers ran down your body at his words and the way his breath hit your ear: "Okay..."

Your gaze rested on his lips as he returned to his upright position, suddenly feeling the burning desire to kiss him.

Little did you know that he felt the same way, but he turned around and grinned to himself.

"Watch after her and don't leave her alone.", he ordered his minions and they nodded.

Then he turned back to you: " I have to go now. Goodbye, darling.", he bowed slightly and disappeared.

Sighting you threw yourself on to the bed, exhausted and looked at the clock: 6 o'clock in the morning, no wonder that you were tired. As you tried to recall everything that had happened in the last hours, your eyes closed and you drifted off into a restless sleep.

A loud crash woke you up, someone groaned in pain and something fell to the ground.

It took you some seconds to realize that you weren't at home anymore and that this probably wasn't just a drunk Zac, but also a really angry one.

You jumped out of the bed, ready to defend yourself, sick of always letting him beat you up.

In the light of the lantern which shined through the window, you could see two bodies lying on the floor, they didn't move or made any sounds. Fear crawled under your skin as you realized that your bodyguards were dead.

You didn't know if Zac actually killed the demons or if they just left in fear.

"Hello, (Y/N).", he said and your muscles tensioned by his cold voice. "Why have you left me? Don't you love me anymore?"

With every step he made towards you, you took one back until you hit the wall behind you: "Leave... Leave me alone!", you stuttered, feeling your pulse rising as he stood so near to you. His hand grabbed you by your throat and pushed you against the wall, making it difficult for you to breath.

" You think you can just walk away from me? Just write a goodbye letter and be gone?", the pressure on your throat increased. "Oh, how wrong you were. I'm not gonna let you go, my princess."

Tears swell up in your eyes, hearing him using your old nickname.

Formerly, when he called you this you could hear his love for you in his voice, but now you could only here obsession.

"Please don't hurt me...", you whispered between short breaths and sobbing.

"I'm sorry, but you're the one who made this ugly.", he answered and the next second his first hit your stomach, knocking all the air out of your lungs before he pushed you to the ground.

Coughing you tried to get your breath back, the room around you was blurry and you couldn't straighten your upper body since your stomach hurt so much.

You heard him unbuckle his belt and flinched as he snapped the leather against each other.

He kneeled down in front of you and grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks: "Are you going to come back with me now?"

You thought about every option, but everyone was even worse than the one before.

'Crowley!', you screamed his name in your head, hoping that he would somehow hear you.

Zac shouted something but you didn't hear it, you tried to shut everything out, cried Crowley's name over and over again in your head and became numb of the pain as Zac hit you with his belt.

Suddenly the hitting stopped and everything was silent, scared you dared to look up.

Zac stood there with his arm raised, the belt in his hand.

Crowley stood behind him, holding his arm in place.

It was like the time had frozen at this moment.

You didn't dare to speak.

Zac, who had turned his head towards Crowley didn't dare to speak.

And Crowley, whose eyes were red, didn't need to speak.

"I could kill you.", he broke the silence. "I just need to snap my fingers and you would be dead."

Scared and angry Zac freed himself from Crowley's grip, letting the belt fall to the ground.

"Please don't, Crowley...", you begged with a shaky voice and stood up.

Both of you looked at each other, he felt your pain and it took him all he had to hold himself back.

"You know him?!", Zac suddenly yelled and you flinched. " Did I fell down the stairs because of you?! You made a deal with him, didn't you?"

Crowley answered for you before you even knew what to say: "No, she didn't. She wasn't as bloody stupid as you to make a deal with me. But you are right in one point, I'm responsible for your fall. And I hope it had hurt."

All the anger and hatred Crowley had for Zac swang in his voice as he spoke the last sentence.

"By the way, I just decided to claim your soul today.", Crowley started in an ice-cold voice and smiled evilly after he saw the fear crawling into Zac as he heard a loud growl from behind him.

"I would recommend you to run. My little hellhound is fast."

Juliet growled again, dangerously and Zac ran off, as fast as he could, slamming the door after him which Juliet tore down seconds after as she jumped through it.

It was silent again. You stared at the door in shock. Not sure if you were happy or sad about what just happened. Suddenly all the pain rushed over you, mentally and physically and the tears, which you were holding back for so long streamed down your cheeks. Loud sobbing you collapsed to the ground.

Crowley caught you, embracing you as you both sat on the ground now.

"It's okay, I'm here, no one can hurt you now.", he whispered calming as he held you in his arms.

Crying you pressed yourself against his chest, sobbing and sniffing and realizing that it wasn't just because of the pain, but also because of relief.

It was over.

You wouldn't come home to an angry boyfriend anymore who yelled at you every day and hit you.

You wouldn't come home in fear anymore.

You could finally live again.

......................................................................

"Thank you...", you mumbled into his shirt as the tears stopped rolling down your face.

Crowley cupped your face between his hands as he lifted your chin to make you look at him.

Your cheeks were red and your eyes puffy, probably making you look like a fish but his eyes got softer and a small smile appeared on his lips.

Gently he placed a warm kiss on your forehead and then pulled you back into a tight embrace.

This time it was you who smiled. Sometimes actions do say more than words...❤

......................................................................

Sooo, this was it!

I hope you enjoyed this one-shot, and yes I know, it's pretty long🙈 (I really didn't mean to write so much!)

The ending is separated by the way because I first wanted to finish it with the sentence "You could finally live again", but I thought some fluff at the end wouldn't be bad ;)

It would mean much to me if you leave a vote and comment🙇

Sending you all my love, thank you for reading! ❤❤❤

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

[justanotherteentitansblog]

Bbrae Week 21 Day 6 Fantasy

The sky had turned twilight orange and blue and the air was cool and crisp. The brave knight known only as Mavis the Formidable had just taken off her armor after a long battle with the dreaded 3 headed tiger, Cereberus. The knight needed rest for tomorrow was another day of full of many battles to be fought and only she was strong enough to keep her kingdom safe- 

“Mavis!” the girl’s emerald-skinned older sister had popped her head into her room, “Mom says she wants you to…. What are you doing?” 

The purple-haired 4 year old was balanced precariously on the top of her headboard facing the window. A blue towel was tied around her shoulders and her fists were confidently placed at her hips. 

Mavis narrowed her eyes at her older sister, “I’m playing knights,Phoenix. Duh!” she said, sticking her tongue out at her. 

The 10 year old nodded her head at her sister’s antics “Right...anyway mom wanted me to come get you to see--” 

Mavis jumped off the bed and ran towards her sister, arms waving in excitement as she interrupted her, “Wait, wait, you can be the wizard who helps me fight Cereberus the 3 headed Tiger! Come on, put this on,'' She shouted running to grab one of her mother’s old cloaks she let her use to play pretend. 

“OK, A, I’m telling mom you’re fighting the cat again.” 

“NNNOOOo!” Mavis whined. 

“And B, why would I be the wizard when you’re the one with psychic powers?” 

“BeCAUSE, Phoenix! I have the magical sword!” Mavis spit, pulling a stick she found from the backyard behind her back. In a flash, Phoenix’s hand whipped out towards the stick and snatched it from her younger sister. “Now ya don’t,”  she teased, morphing into a puppy and running down the stairs with the stick in her mouth. 

Mavis screeched and launched herself down the stairs after her sister. “Giveitbackgiveitbackgiveitback!” 

When Phoenix reached the bottom of the stairs, a tall green man snatched up the green puppy from the ground mid-run and ripped the stick from her mouth. The guilty changeling morphed back into a 10 year old in her father's arms and gave him a look that would melt anyone else’s heart on contact. Garfield rolled his eyes at his daughter. 

“You can’t get me with the puppy dog eyes, Phoenix. I invented them.” 

At that moment, Mavis had arrived at the bottom of the stairs where her father stood holding her older sister by the waist in one arm and the stick in his left hand. The impatient girl started jumping up and down at the stick just slightly out of her reach. 

“Dad! Dad! My Sword!” 

Gar looked at this hand and then at his child and a slow smile crept over his face. 

“Ah Mavis the Formidable, I believe this belongs to you,” he said, handing her the stick. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” turning to stick her tongue out at Phoenix. 

Just then, the girls’ mother came up from the stairs to the basement with a sour look on her face as she approached her children. 

“Mavis, would you like to explain why I just had to untie the cat from the radiator in the basement?” 

She turned to Phoenix, “Or would you like to explain why I asked you to see if your sister wanted to go to the tower with you and Dad, and I instead hear her screaming at the top of her lungs? Should I even mention the fact that I specifically told you no morphing in the house, and you, no sticks longer than your arm in the house.” She scolded both of her children with equal intensity. 

Gar looked at his wife, “You told her no sticks?” 

“Only her arm’s length-long, after what happened this morning.” Raven said, pulling her hair up to show her husband the welt on the back of her neck. Mavis had been practicing wielding her “Sword” while Raven was trying to fold laundry that morning. 

“Well that’s an easy fix” he said, pulling the stick back out of Mavis’s hand and snapping it in half, making it an arms length. 

“MY SWORD!” the girl wailed. 

Gar stared at Mavis in the eyes and warned, “You could have no sword at all. Now the both of you need to apologize to your mother!” 

Both girls sighed, and rolled their eyes, “Sorry Mom,” they said in unison. 

Raven sighed and recollected herself. Other than poor Cerberus getting tortured, most of what they were doing was not a big deal, but Raven would have to have ANOTHER talk with Mavis about including live animals into her pretend games. 

Raven looked at her girls. Phoenix who was green and lanky like her father but otherwise had her mother’s face. She had thick green hair that was always pulled into a ponytail with a heavy bang that covered the matching chakra she shared with her mother. While Mavis had her pale skin and wild purple hair that stuck out all over the place complete with her father’s smile and ears. They were going to be the absolute death of her. 

Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at her younger daughter. “Phoenix is going to the tower to train with Dad. Do you want to come with them or stay at home?”  

Mavis wrinkled her nose in thought, “Will Mar’i be at the tower?” 

“ I don’t know, I can find out and if not we can see about going to Aunt Kori’s if you don’t want to go to the tower.”

“OK! I just want to play with Mar’i” 

Raven went to make the phone call, while Gar rushed Phoenix upstairs to get dressed for training exercises. Mavis the Formidable, however, had decided it was time to visit the Witches' Den. It was time to make potions. 

Mavis the Formidable had visited the Witches’ Den many a time to create potions to take on her amazing quests, but everytime she had gotten found herself caught and placed onto the chair of eternity. The witch in charge of the den had warned Mavis that the items in this room were not to be trifled with, but Mavis knew she was a strong warrior and wise enough to correctly use any potion within these ancient walls all on her own. Mavis reached up to grab a glass bottle with pink sand and--

“If you touch that, you can forget about going to see Aunt Kori and Mar’i.” 

Mavis wilted as her mother approached her. She never let her play in the meditation room and everything in there looked so cool! 

“But MOM, I need to make potions or I can’t fight the dragons!” 

Raven sighed but then smirked at her daughter's active imagination. 

“Oh well why didn’t you just say so, Mavis the Formidable.” 

Raven grabbed an empty orb shaped bottle and poured a clear liquid from another bottle inside, the pink sand Mavis had originally reached for, three small black stones and a powder that made it shimmer when it was shaken.

“There, one dragon slaying potion. Don’t drop it”  she said with a wink. 

“Thank you, kind witch” she said, giving her mom a hug. 

Raven narrowed her eyes at her daughter, “You’re pushing it.” 

Mavis quickly corrected herself, “Thank you, Mommy.” 

“Mmhhmm, you wanna go to Aunt Kori’s then?” 

“Can we teleport there?” Mavis begged. 

“Mavis, the last time we teleported anywhere you wouldn’t stop crying for half an hour and wouldn’t sleep in your own bed for a week.” 

Mavis crossed her arms and began pouting “Well you wouldn’t turn on the light inside the portal” 

“Mavis, for the last time, there is no light inside mommy’s magic, it’s all--I’m not having this argument again. If you want to go, get your shoes on, we’re driving there.” 

Mavis pouted for a moment and then looked up at her mother through her eyelashes. 

“Can I wear my rain boots?” 

“If you dress yourself, you are welcome to wear whatever you want.” 

“OK!” Mavis shouted, bolting up the stairs, dragon potion in hand. 

Upon arriving at Kori’s, Mavis impatiently unbuckled herself from the carseat and began whining as her mother was taking too long to help her out of the seat. 

“Hold on, Mavis, let me get my bearings,” she said as she helped the girl out of the car. 

Kori was standing by the front door waving them in when Mavis went racing past her into the house, “HiAuntKoribyeAuntKori!” she shouted behind her. 

Kori chuckled at the sight while Raven rolled her eyes in exasperation. 

“Awesome manners, kid. You’d think nobody taught you them.” She deadpanned in the direction her child ran. 

Kori shook her head in bemusement, “How do you keep up with that one?” 

Raven scoffed, “You think I keep up with her?” 

Mavis tore through the house looking for her friend, finally she spotted Mar’i through the sliding glass door to the backyard, swinging on a rope swing. Mavis attempted to move the door but it was locked. She pushed and pulled and scrambled up hanging on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Slowly, Raven came walking behind her child and quietly unlocked the door while Mavis was still hanging onto the handle. At the first sign of her new found freedom, Mavis threw open the glass door and raced across the patio to her friend. 

Upon seeing Mavis, Mar’i jumped off the swing and ran to meet her. They two girls embraced each other tightly until Mar’i tackled them both to the ground, causing both girls to start giggling. 

Raven and Kori walked out to the patio to halfway supervise the girls but mostly to catch up and chat. 

Before the girls could get up and start playing, Raven called out a warning, “If you get hurt doing something stupid or something you’re not supposed to do, I’m not using any healing powers on either of you.” 

Mavis rolled her eyes at her mother while Mar’i simply nodded in agreement. “OK!” 

Mavis turned to Mar’i excitement coloring her face, “Mar’i guess what I have?” she asked, holding the bottle her mother gave her behind her back. 

“What? What is it?” 

Mavis proudly showed off the potion her mother made, “It’s dragon slaying poison, do you wanna fight the dragon with me?” 

Mar’i looked into the bottle's contents and swirled it around. “Are you sure, this is dragon poison? It looks like water and pink sand.” 

“Of course it’s dragon poison! My mom made it and my mom makes all kinds of stuff like this!” 

Mar’i shrugged her shoulders, “OK, can I be the princess this time?” 

“Sure!” Mavis shrugged back and went to find a new sword stick. 

After finding a stick much longer than her arm, getting scolded by her mother, and then finding a much smaller stick, the heroes set off on their adventure. 

The two adventurers had set off on a most gruesome task. A great dragon had taken over the nearby village and stolen all their resources. The village's only hope was now Mavis the Formidable and Princess Mar’i. Mavis only armed with her sword and her dragon slaying potion, and Mar’i with her flight and starbo--

“Hey wait a minute, why do you get to use your powers?! Mom, why does Mar’i get to use her powers?” She shouted running towards her mother. 

“Mar’i’s powers work differently than yours do, she can use hers without hurting anyone, which is something you can’t quite do yet.” 

Mavis stomped her foot and tears formed in her eyes,”That’s not fair, I want these off.” She shoved the silver cuffs that contained her power in Raven’s face.

Raven put a calm hand to her daughter’s hands and lowered them away from her face, “Your sister had to wear them until she was 6, and even then she only had them off for a few hours at a time. I’m sorry Mavis, but they’re there to keep you and everyone else safe.” This was a very rehearsed and familiar conversation Raven had practiced from years of dealing with the subject with Phoenix, who beforehand would turn into any animal she thought of with no control over it at all. 

It was very clear to everyone that Mavis was about to have a meltdown before Mar’i interrupted, “That’s ok! I just won’t use my powers!” 

Mavis sniffed, “Really?” 

“Yeah of course! I might fly on accident though, cause when I’m really happy, I fly.” 

Mavis rubbed her eyes, “That’s OK, you can fly us to the dragon!” Mavis was already picking the game back up where they had left off. 

“Oooh Yeah!” Mar’i agreed, floating a few feet in the air and reaching for Mavis’s hands. 

Raven stiffened, and Kori gave a warning, “No higher than the bottom of the tree branches, Mar’i and don’t drop her.” Mar’i nodded in agreement and Raven relaxed a little, since Mavis could definitely survive that fall if Mar’i did drop her. 

As the two young warriors flew off on their great quest, they came to a great mountain, complete with a rickety bridge that led to a separate deeply sloping mountain. Mavis the Formidable, was first to climb the great mountain with ease as she held within her tiny body the strength of a thousand suns, but as Mar’i attempted to climb the mountain she had lost her footing and the warrior princess began to slip. “Mavis!” She yelled to the knight in front of her. Mavis had reached the top of the mountain and turned to her companion. “Mar’i!” the brave warrior shouted from several miles above her. 

“I’m slipping, I can’t hold on!” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” Mavis yelled from the top of the mountain throwing the princess a long rope to help her climb to the top. 

Mavis’s blue towel that was previously wrapped around her shoulders smacked Mar’i in the face and she fell backwards off the playset. Mar’i lay flat on the ground looking up at Mavis with rage in her eyes, “Ow! Mavis!” 

Mavis started waving her arms around excitedly, “I'm so sorry, are you ok?” 

Just then Kori and Raven ran over to see if Mar’i was ok. After a quick but thorough inspection, it was deemed that Mar’i was ok, just irritated. Raven shot Mavis an irritated look, “Mavis what possessed you throw the towel on Mar’i’s face?” 

“No, mom, listen, I didn’t throw it at her, she was slipping off the mountain and I was trying to save her!” 

Raven smacked a hand to her face, she was getting really sick of the knights game. “Ok new rule, you’re not climbing anything together!” 

Mavis and Mar’i sighed knowing this part of their game was now over. The two mothers walked away leaving the girls to play together once again. 

Mavis approached Mar’i but the other girl pouted and crossed her arms at her friend. 

Mavis pleaded at her raven haired friend, “I really didn’t mean to, I promise!” 

“Hmpf!” Mar’i huffed and turned away from the mini empath, “I don’t want to play with you anymore!” 

Mavis’s eyes started to well up with tears at the rejection of her best friend until suddenly inspiration struck her.

“WAIT!” she shouted, taking the towel off her shoulders, “You can have my cape if you’ll be my best friend again.” 

Mar’i straightened up in shock, “Really?” 

“Uh-huh! Will you still be my friend?” Mavis implored her friend. 

“Of course!” Mar’i said, standing up and putting the towel over her own shoulders. 

Mavis breathed a sigh of relief as she stood with her friend and continued their game. 

Beneath the mountain where the heroes had fallen they discovered a vast cave ripe for exploring. The cave was cold and dark, they had made an attempt at a fire to warm themselves up, but the cold winds within the cave kept blowing it out like a birthday candle. Mavis could make out ancient runes inscribed in the cave’s walls that quickly lead the two to the innermost part of the cave. 

It wasn’t too long until the adventurers heard heavy breathing in the darkness that didn’t belong to either of the pair. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, the girls screeched in terror. 

Looking at them were several jackalopes, with their teeth bared and ready to attack the young girls. Mar’i attempted to run to the safety of the queen but Mavis the Formidable, knew exactly what to… 

Kori looked up from the conversation she was having with Raven when she heard Mavis scream what could only be described as a warrior cry. “Raven...I don’t mean to alarm you but, your daughter is running and screaming manically with 3 baby bunnies in her arms.” 

Raven took a deep shaky breath and closed her eyes, trying to find a state of calm. After several attempts to find a meditative state, a nearby bird's nest exploded as Raven finally lost her patience, “MAVIS ANGELA LOGAN! DROP THE BUNNIES!” 

Mavis, the formidable once again found herself caught within the grasp of the evil witch and her chair of eternity. Days stretched into years and years stretched into decades as the adventurer found herself bound to the evil throne. 

No amount of pleading and bargaining with the cruel witch would change her mind as the warrior was only met with hushes and dark glares that she learned in witch language meant “shut up”. Just when Mavis thought she would be left to perish cold and alone in the chair of eternity a glorious sound parted the clouds and rang through the heavens. 

Beep, Beep, Beep. The timer on Raven’s phone went off signaling to Mavis that her timeout was over. Mavis eagerly lept from the chair but Raven stopped her before she could run back into the backyard. “Uh-uh, you’re not getting away that easily!” 

Mavis wilted and shuffled back over to her mother to get a talking to. Just as Raven was about to start scolding Mavis, the sliding glass door opened and out stepped Phoenix, Garfield and Dick. 

Garfield knew his youngest daughter like the back of his hand and knew what the look on her face meant. “Oh no, what did you do this time?” he asked Mavis casually. 

Raven narrowed her eyes at Mavis while speaking to her husband, “Your daughter is trying to catch wild animals to play with them again.” 

“How come she’s always my daughter when she’s in trouble?” The changeling asked. 

“Because Phoenix is my daughter when she’s in trouble, this was our agreement, I get the mean one and you get the feral one.” 

“Right, I forgot about that. You want me to handle this one?” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

With that, Raven turned to her older daughter to get the details of how her training went, while Garfield crouched down to his youngest daughter. 

“Are you out here driving your mother crazy?” 

Mavis cracked a small smile. 

“It’s not funny, Mavis,” he warned. 

“Well I was just trying to play with Mari and we were playing knights and we wanted to go on a quest to find the dragon but mom won’t let me use my powers or a sword or chase jackalopes and then I accidently hurt Mar’i with a towel but I was just trying to save her from falling off a mountain and-” 

Gar threw up his hand to silence his child’s rambling. “What’s this about a dragon?” 

Raven side eyed her husband and smirked knowing where he was going with this by the tone of his voice. 

Mavis continued on, “There’s a dragon, and it’s attacking the whole village and-” 

Gar cut her off again and began inching towards Raven. “I see, Mavis, does the dragon look anything like this?” he questioned as he threw his wife over his shoulder, morphed into a pterodactyl and flew several feet in the air with Raven on his back. 

Raven no longer found her husband's antics amusing as she desperately clung to his neck to avoid a sudden drop. “GARFIELD MARK LOGAN YOU BETTER NOT DROP ME I SWEAR TO GOD!” 

Mavis the Formidable was finally face to face with her enemy the dragon and he had captured the witch. Normally this would’ve been something to celebrate, but the witch was sometimes nice. She was the best at reading bedtime stories and always had really good snacks, so Mavis couldn’t let her get eaten by the dragon yet. 

Mavis wielded her arm-sized sword and began to swing at the dreaded dragon. The dragon flew close to the ground but continued to dodge Mavis’s attacks with ease. All seemed hopeless until Mavis remembered the dragon slaying potion the witch had made for her. Mavis pulled the bottle out of her back pocket, popped the cork, tilted her head back and chugged the potion. 

Raven’s eyes went wide as she watched her child attempt to chug what was essentially salt water and fall to her hands and knees, gagging. Raven stifled a chuckle until she burst out into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re not supposed to drink it you dork, you’re supposed to throw it at the dragon!” she said through fits of laughter. 

Gar quickly morphed back into his human form also laughing and let Raven get down off of his back. 

“Are you going to be ok?” he asked, trying to stifle his own laughter. 

“That was so yucky” she managed to cough out and dramatically pretended to die. 

By this point, she had everyone in the backyard laughing including herself. Gar went over to pick the child up, when suddenly her eyes shot open and she shoved the stick between his arm and chest. Gar immediately went along with the game. “AAHHHHH YOU KILLED ME” He screamed, falling to the ground next to Mavis. 

Raven walked over to the two impressed, “That was pretty clever Mavis the Formidable. You wanna go get some water to wash out that potion taste?” 

“And a snack?” 

“Sure Mavis, and a snack” 

THE END. 

[amintyworld]

Mentors - Dream SMP Hunger Games AU

A/N: So this started as a one page drabble, then it turned into a six page fic. Oopsies! Anyway this is meant to be a sort of prequel to ‘The Victor’ drabble I submitted over at @dreamsmp-au-ideas, but can be read as stand-alone. Anyway, I wrote this in the span of an entire DAY because I have no self-control when it comes to writing and this AU has sparked some Middle School nostalgia in me. Anyway, hope you enjoy and please check out the blog where the AU idea came from, they’ve given me a LOT of inspiration for fics to write. -Minty

TW: Talk/mention of death, fighting, depression/loss, threats of death, slight insanity. (Tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

Summary: Tommy’s an angry orphan, Wilbur grows a soft spot for Tommy, Sam is the only braincell left in District 7, Tubbo has Dadschlatt and needs a lot of hugs, Phil earned the achievement ‘Oh no Feelings’. 

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

Tubbo intertwined his fingers as he walked with the guards toward the white porcelain-like door. The shock of his name getting pulled hadn’t exactly faded yet, and the dread of the logical conclusion he’d drawn up in his head did not exactly help matters. He knew he was dead - he’d never trained for combat, he wasn’t agile or fast, he knew next to nothing about surviving in the wilderness, or even whatever the Gamemaker threw at him for that matter. His fate was completely sealed the moment that boy with devil horns picked his name out of the bowl. 

He took a breath, his hand on the door handle. Time to say goodbye.

As soon as he shut the door, he could feel his father’s comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo.” His voice was gentle, warm, and kind. Tubbo’s emotions couldn’t help but become unplugged at the voice as tears ran down his cheeks and he clung to his father tightly, afraid to let go. Schlatt wrapped his arms around Tubbo gently, rubbing his back to give him some comfort. “Oh Tubbo, I know kiddo, shhh...”

“I’m so scared, Dad.” Tubbo’s voice wavered as his body shook with sobs, and Schlatt’s heart broke at his son’s voice. 

“I know buddy, I know.” Schatt moved so he could brush his hands through his son’s hair. “But… but you don’t have to be. I know you can do it, I know you can win.” A few tears slipped down Schlatt’s cheek. “You’re so much smarter than any of those meatheads in the Capitol, probably in any other District in Panem. You’re so much stronger than you know, kiddo. I know you can do it. Just survive, I know you can outthink any of them, I know you can win. Just survive, win, and I’ll be waiting right here when you come back, okay?”

“And… and we can finally make s’mores?”

Schlatt’s face broke out into a smile through tears. “Yes, yes we can make as many s’mores as you want! We… we’ll… I’ll show you the bee farms, and I promise I’ll be there every single night for dinner, no more late hours at the office. I swear.” Schlatt’s hands squeezed Tubbo’s shoulders. “But you gotta win and come home, okay?”

Tubbo’s eyes blurred with tears as he scanned his father’s face, words dying in his throat, not knowing what to say. “Dad, I-”

Schlatt pulled him down into another hug as the two wept, holding onto each other for dear life, not daring to let go. Then, a soldier appeared in the doorway. “He’s got a train to catch, Mr. Ram.”

Schlatt breathed deeply, pulling away from the hug to run his hand through his son’s hair one last time, taking in his face as he brushed a bit of hair out of his face. “I…” He bit his lip. “I love you, Tubbo. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“I love you too, Dad.” Tubbo gave a quick hug to his father, wrapping his arms around his neck.

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

When Wilbur was assigned as a mentor for District 7, he was more than a little nervous. The other Victors from Victor’s Row assured him he’d do just fine, but still, he was not exactly looking forward to it. He’d met the escort and advisor a few days ago, someone from the Capitol named Sam. For someone from one of the richest districts in Panem, Sam didn’t exactly dress in high fashion - no bright colors or extravagant hairstyles. Instead, he simply wore a clean formal vest and slacks. He gave Wilbur the firmest handshake he’d ever been given in his entire life, and despite the situation seemed almost cheerful. 

If he remembered correctly, he was supposed to settle in his personal car on the train and meet Sam in the dining car. Sam seemed to have every detail of their trip planned out perfectly, which Wilbur more than appreciated. He was already dealing with enough as it was having to mentor two kids and try to get them sponsors while basically reliving the worst time in his entire life. Ths screams, the blood… the memories were… they were not good.

They called him insane, unstable. The One Who Went Mad. When he used to panic and whimper and mutter to himself, they used to laugh at him. They thought what he’d been through, the things that he’s seen, and the nightmares that plagued him were nothing more than a funny joke. They loved his pain and suffering. Wilbur didn’t like when they laughed at him like some stupid monkey in a cage. That’s why he preferred to just stay home most of the time. But at this point mentorship was unavoidable, it was under Capitol orders.

It was a bit early before he was due to meet up with Sam in the dining car, and he craved a cup of black coffee. His mind whirred a bit from the familiar fancy train cars, and he needed something to clear his mind from remembering. When he opened the door, however, he didn’t expect to see one of the tributes already here this early. From his blond messy hair and his bright blue eyes, he assumed this was Tommy, the boy. Wilbur held up his hand to show he meant to harm before he moved past the teen sat near the window towards the tea cart, fiddling with the french press. Successfully pouring the pitch-black liquid in a very expensive looking teacup, he cradled it in his hands as he moved to sit across from the teenage boy, still focused on the train station outside the window. “Uh, interesting view?”

Tommy looked over at him for a moment, eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Something like that.”

Wilbur sipped the bitter coffee thoughtfully. He took a breath before speaking. “You know, you’re allowed to say goodbye to your friends and family in the Governor’s office, if one of the Peacekeepers made a mistake I’m sure there’s still time for you to…”

“No.” The teenager’s voice seemed firm, staring out of the window. “They didn’t make a mistake.” 

“Uh, well…” Wilbur felt the awkward tension in the room rise. “You are a… bit early, we don’t leave for another half-hour…”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. No one to say goodbye to, so I guess they just skipped that part for convenience.” He looked almost angry as he turned back to Wilbur. “Do you mind maybe not staring at me?”

“I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” Tommy snapped. “You shouldn’t just start up a conversation just because you feel bored. I’m not paid to be your fucking entertainment.”

Add this to the number of reasons Wilbur didn’t want to be a mentor - teenagers. This kid certainly had a mouth on him. 

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed in anger as he gripped his teacup, trying his best to stay calm. “Well, whether you like it or not, you’re all of Panem’s entertainment now.” Wilbur quipped as he moved to walk away. “So maybe you should learn to be a bit more likable.”

As he began to walk across the car to move toward a table in the corner of the room, he felt a heavy weight on his back as he lost his grip on his cup as it landed on the metal ground of the car with a loud crash, the coffee staining the expensive carpets. He felt punches on his back and head as someone tried to pin him down. Wilbur sighed in frustration. With ease, he jabbed Tommy’s side, putting him off balance, and flipped the kid over, grabbing his arm and pulling it behind his back. Tommy struggled against Wilbur’s grip, angry. He could see tears in the teenager’s eyes as he practically growled at Wilbur. “Take it back you bitch! Get off of me and fight! Take it back or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Tommy’s anger slowly disappeared as he began to cry, his body shaking as he sucked in breaths, slowly realizing what exactly he said. “I’ll… I’ll…” Wilbur’s heart couldn’t help but ache at the sight of the poor kid, bringing back memories of that time, that feeling of being trapped.

The door at the other end of the train car flew open, to reveal Sam and the girl tribute from the Reaping, Sarah. “Wilbur, what are you doing?” Sam questioned as Wilbur quickly got off of Tommy, holding out his hand for the teenager to take. 

“Uh, right.” As Tommy’s eyes met Wilbur’s the mentor noticed how they scanned across his face, confused at Wilbur’s sudden change from annoyance to kindness. Wilbur smiled slightly. “Let’s save the real fighting for the arena, yeah?” Tommy hesitated before taking Wilbur’s hand as he helped him up, getting even more confused as he quickly wiped off his tear-stained cheeks.

“Sarah Teller and Tommy Innit, meet your Mentor, Wilbur Soot.”

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

Tubbo formally met his other tribute mate, a girl he knew from those fancy business dinners Schlatt would host - he never really talked with her much then, but it was nice to see a familiar face, that was for sure. Her name was Crystal.

They arrived and settled in without much really going on. Their advisor, the one with the devil horns a few hours earlier was their advisor, Bad. They were very confused at first why anyone would name their child that, until Bad insisted it was a nickname for ‘Badboy’… Tubbo couldn’t say he didn’t believe the advisor with some of the fancy and absurd names that seemed so popular in the richer districts. “Now, the best part is that even though you are both chosen as tributes, you’ll be able to see all the Capitol can offer before you’re in the arena. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

“I guess it’ll be kind of cool to see the Capitol.” Crystal agreed as she took a sip of a fruitful smelling juice of some kind. Her eyes furrowed as if she was focusing intently on the next words out of her mouth. “I mean, this year economy-wise wasn’t particularly the best for them, seeing as their main exports have been plagued with attacks. It’ll be interesting to see how they fair under unseemly conditions.”

“E...Economy?” Tubbo asked in a silent question to his fellow tribute, whose face flushed in embarrassment. 

“My father is the head of exports for District 3. Knowing about stocks and stuff is kind of his thing… then, I guess, it became my thing.” Crystal shrugged, and Tubbo thoughtfully bit into a buttered crust of bread. “I don’t really think that’ll be too helpful in the Games, though.”

“Speaking of the Games, where’s that old man… I told him to meet us here almost an hour ago.” Bad thoughtfully added with a sigh. “He’s going to miss dinner completely if he doesn’t hurry up.”

Almost as if on cue, the car door slid open, and in walked a tall broad blonde-haired man who looked completely mentally checked out. He yawned as he reached over the table to grab an apple and one of Bad’s homemade muffins from the basket. He looked over to the two kids and gave them a slight smile and a two-fingered salute as if to say ‘hi’. “Crystal, Tubbo, this is Phil Craft, your Mentor,” Bad said, quickly gesturing to the man, anger bubbling to the surface. “Phil, where have you been?” Bad demanded, leaning over to snatch the muffin out of Phil’s hand. “No muffins until you eat actual food! We’re in District Two tomorrow and they expect us up and ready by 9 am sharp-!”

“Alright, alright! Stop freaking out, okay?” Phil pinched his nose in annoyance, turning his gaze to look over at the two teenagers again. Phil met Tubbo’s eyes and smirked. “Also, you said I needed real food?” Phil threw the apple up into the air as it caught wind on his arm, traveling over his shoulder blades and taking off of his opposite hand, landing in his mouth as he sunk his teeth into the apple flesh. “That count?” He asked between chewing as Tubbo and Crystal couldn’t help but smile and laugh, clapping to applaud Phil’s trick.

“You bail on us for a whole hour, show up to eat a single apple, and then got back to your little hermit hut?!” Bad’s voice raised slightly. “What do you even do in there that’s more important than this, huh??”

Phil’s playful smile dropped for a moment, replaced with something more melancholy as Bad clearly struck a nerve. There was a tense moment of silence before Phil resumed his happy persona. “Well, I didn’t mean to be a bother and disrupt your dinner. Now that I have my apple and my muffin, I’ll take my leave.” He looked over to the two tributes. “I’ll see both of you in the morning.” Phil smiled before quickly exiting the room once more, leaving a slightly irritated Bad, and two very off-put tributes.

Tubbo couldn’t sleep. The day’s events weighed too heavy on his mind - the Reaping, saying goodbye to his father, dealing with the thoughts of his own inevitable fate. He missed Schlatt’s warm embrace, he missed how his father ruffled up his hair just in the right way to say ‘I’m proud of you, kid.’ He missed home and its faint smell of motor oil and coal from the factories that always seemed to seep in through the windows and cracks in the walls just right. He didn’t feel safe here, he was in one of the fanciest bedrooms on a train that he knew he’d never be able to get a ticket for years, and yet nothing about this place felt safe.

He was being chased by something, something with claws and teeth that whispered nothing but death. But Tubbo didn’t want to die. Even if he knew it was his fate, Tubbo did not want to die. So he ran, his legs quickly getting sore and tired from overuse, yet he pushed on. He heard whispers in his ears, taunting him, laughing at his pathetic escape. Tears ran down Tubbo’s eyes as he pressed his hands over his ears and continued to run, something pinned him to the ground, claws sinking into his back as he whimpered in pain. A chill ran down his spine as the monster growled close to Tubbo’s ear. His heartbeat quicker as he begged, no pleaded to whatever was out there, please please I just want to live-!

He awoke with a start, looking around, tears streaming down his face as his body shook with an adrenaline rush. His hands found their way over his heart, making sure he was still alive as arms wrapped around him, shushing him and holding him close. “Woah there, Woah there… it’s okay, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real, shhh…” The panic in Tubbo’s chest slowly quieted as he wrapped his arms around the person, needing comfort desperately. The figure seemed startled for a moment before brushing back some of Tubbo’s hair out of his eyes. Tubbo looked at the figure for a moment, confused.

“Phil?”

“Hey mate.” Phil smiled warmly. “That was quite the nightmare, yeah? You were flopping around like a fish out of water.”

“But…” Tubbo sniffed, pulling away to wipe away his tears. “But why? How?”

“You sounded like you were in physical pain, I was worried. Can’t have a tribute dead before they even get to the arena, you know. Would really throw off the whole schedule.” Phil half-joked as he looked down at the mattress, not being able to meet Tubbo’s eyes at that moment. Tubbo’s gaze was focused on his mentor.

“Why’d you help me, we just met today for like two seconds at most-”

“It doesn’t really matter that much, I was just passing by-!” Phil dismissed quickly before Tubbo’s tone got more serious.

“Phil, if you’re going to be my Mentor you’ve gotta at least tell me the truth. I need you to tell me the absolute truth when it comes to this because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, what I’m up against, how I’m even supposed to survive, but you do. I need you if I ever stand even a chance of getting home. Please.” Phil let out a frustrated sigh.

“You reminded me of my son, that’s all. When he used to be a tribute.” Phil said, looking toward the ground. “He’d have nightmares, he was so scared but I told him I’d never leave his side, so when he got picked I went with him as his Mentor.” Phil sucked on his cheek. “I thought that if I went with him, talked him through it, got every single sponsor I could, he’d…” Phil sighed. “I just didn’t want for you to have to deal with the nightmare alone, no one should have to handle everything alone.” Moving off his bed, he looked over. “I’ll be across the hall, okay?”

“Oh...Okay.” Tubbo said, nodding. “Thanks.”

Phil nodded back as he turned and Tubbo saw Phil’s hand move toward his chest quickly, was he putting his hand over his heart or something…? As Phil moved toward the door, one question stood on Tubbo’s mind, he bit his lip for a moment, considering. 

“Phil, wait-!” Phil turned around, and Tubbo saw Phil’s hand wrap around a necklace of some kind he didn’t notice before, in the shape of a heart. “Did… did he survive? Your son?”

A tense silence followed.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Phil said. “No more questions, you need to get some sleep.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Emp-ire “Vacation.”

Ok everyone, so Just a bit of an announcement before we get to this story. As you know I have been writing this series for over a year now, which includes the book. That means I haven’t worked on anything else in years. I love these stories, and the characters, so I want to keep writing, But, to avoid burnout, I am going to need to take a detour from the the regular themes and write something new. I won’t title them HASO because that is the theme I am stepping away from for a bit. But its all the same characters and what not, just something new so I don’t end up with the desire to quit.

The book’s name is Empyrean Iris so, the nickname I am giving the universe is Emp-ire because it is shorter. If you can think up a better name, I am cool to hear it out, but this is how you will know the difference :).

I hope you will accept the new shenanigans and be willing to ride out this little detour with me. Its for the health of my writing, but I still wanted to give you guys something, while allowing myself to relax and write something else for a little.

Sharp light filtered in through tinted glass. Despite the brightness and pureness of the light, somehow the room still seemed dark. Perhaps it was the sharpness of the light and the blackness of the shadows left in its wake. The room itself seemed cold and barren. The floors were grey, the walls were grey, and the furniture was mostly stainless steel.

There was a chair toppled over on the floor in the center, surrounded by shards of shattered glass which caught the sharp light from outside and warped it to reflect across the room in crystalline patterns.

The walls of the room were barren, mostly devoid of pictures, except for one hanging crooked over the couch- a frozen image of a happy family smiling down from the wall. Somehow, in a room like this their smiles seemed rather hollow. Just across from that a TV was playing static and a defused bluish light filtered onto the floor where it mixed with the white light filtering in from the tinted window, and the bright lunar landscape outside.

The place was silent, mostly silent except for the occasional sloshing of liquid.

He lay on the dull grey floor next to the overturned coffee table. He was a wreck, wearing a stained white T-shirt and boxer shorts. His face was covered in a weak layer of scruff and in one hand he held a bottle. He lay there for another long moment staring with a dead expression up at the ceiling before slowly raising the bottle to his lips and taking another swig. He grimaced, and much of the alcohol spilled out onto his chin and neck, but he didn’t seem to care, and rested his head back against the floor with a dull thud.

He contemplated getting up.

Cleaning himself up maybe.

But that would clearly be too much work with his prosthetic stowed under the bed in the bedroom.

He was a cripple.

He couldn’t get up.

He took another sip from the bottle, hating the taste as much as the fuzziness that clouded his head.

A soft whimper from the other side of the coffee table, and looking up he saw a snout and a pair of ears poke out from behind it.

“Lay down.” He ordered drunkenly

And the nose and snout disappeared again to go along with a dull thud.

He didn’t have the energy to deal with her today, but she was always so insistent. He just wanted to be left along more than anything in the world.  

Adam stared at the ceiling closing his eyes as another wave of incomprehensible self loathing washed over him, he was an idiot, he was pathetic, he was stupid, and he was barely even human. He had no life, no personality, and the one thing that made him interesting was the one thing he couldn’t do at the moment.

He hadn’t told the UNSC of course, he didn’t want to lose his job.

So he had disguised his visit to the moon as extended leave, leave that was VERY extended considering all his unused vacation hours stacked up. If he wanted, he could take the next year off.

The thought scared, him and his fear scared him even more. Why was he so afraid of spending time by himself.

It’s because you don’t have a personality.

Or the fact that you are super boring and you know you would be bored the entire time.

Because you are worried about what you are going to learn about yourself.

Because…. Because you don’t get to see her.

He squeezed his eyes tight shut and groaned.

Stop thinking! Don’t think about that!

And then he heard the sound of keys rattling in the lock. He sat up very quickly suddenly aware that he was legless and unarmed. But who the hell had a key! Only his mother, but she was back on earth, its not like he could think of anyone else to give it to. The key rattled in the lock for a few more seconds.

Adam turned looking around for any sort of weapon and found only the mostly empty bottle at his side.

He looked at it, shrugged, and then downed the last of its content before grabbing it by the neck and brandishing it like a weapon.

The lock clicked and the door was pushed inward. Boots thudded over the grey laminate floor, and a shape came around the corner duffle bag in one hand, a set of keys swinging in the other.

He raised the bottle, ready to throw it at the intruder and then paused.

“Ramirez!”

Ramirez stopped to look at him a dark eyebrow raising over an amber eye. He looked Adam up and down very slowly before, “You look like shit.”

Self consciously Adam managed to lever himself up onto the couch, so he could be a little more dignified, but as he was right now, there wasn’t much hope of that.

Ramirez lifted his nose to the room and sniffed grimacing.

“Dude, its smells like a bar in here, and not the reputable kind. It smells like the kind of bar where the blond chick just threw up in the corner, and drunk uncle dan pissed himself because he passed out.”

“Ok, Ok I get it.”

Ramirez turned to look at him, “No I don’t think you do, bro what the hell.” he bent over and picked up one of the bottles, “Since when did you drink?” He flipped the bottle over, “Since when did you drink this shit. If you are going to get drunk at least make it something good.”

Adam looked away, “Highest alcohol content I could find.”

“Yeah…. That stops now.”

He set down his duffle and crossed his arms over his chest, “Go get yourself cleaned up.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest.

Ramirez held up a hand, “No, no your mother said she would only give me the keys if I got your ass out of the house, and that is what i intend to do.”

“You met my mother!”

“Yes, lovely lady, though the next time she sees you shes gonna beat your ass. Now get up and go wash the stench off, I can smell you from here. Also,...” He looked down, reaching into his bag and tossing a small white bottle over to Adam, who, somehow, managed to catch it.

The two of them stared in surprise for a second before Adam flipped the bottle over to read the label.

“Ethen-null?” He read aloud, “What is this.”

“Take two, they should neutralize the ethanol in your bloodstream. I used to carry a bottle around in my wilder days. ITs great when you want to get super drunk late at night, but you don’t want to be a shitty human being while driving home drunk.”

“I don't w-”

“Option one is you take them voluntarily, option two is that I make you take them, and I guarantee that you aren’t going to like option two.”

“I can’t walk.”

“Boo hoo, get up and hop your crippled ass to the shower, I know you can.”

HE blinked a bit surprised at the venom in Ramirez’s tone. No one had spoken to him like that in a while. The ones who did speak to him kept tip toeing around him as if they knew there was some problem, but not wanting to address it.

“NOW!”

“Ok, Ok, jeeze.” 

He uncapped the bottle first, tipping two of the little white pills into his hand before swallowing them dry and then getting unsteadily to his remaining foot. Ramirez didn’t make one single  move to help him as he hopped, or crawled his way across the room and towards the hallway where his room was.

Opening the door, it was clear the place hadn’t been touched since he moved in.

He didn’t really know why.

There was something about sleeping in a bed somewhere that made that place permanent.

He wobbled through the door into the bathroom, which, luckily for him had a walk in shower and a bench.

Despite his original dislike for the idea of getting up, the water felt good on his aching soul, and he spent some minutes trying to scrub the alcohol and grease from his body. A thick coat of steam rose up around him as the warm water evaporated, rolling down the glass in rivulets.

He admitted to feeling a little better as he hoped out of the shower and onto the heated tiles, gripping the railing on the wall for support as he moved over to the mirror.

His mouth tasted pretty foul, but at least his head was clear, and he took at least five minutes of brushing his teeth and two cup fulls of mouthwash to satisfy him.

He contemplated not shaving, but decided he might as well since he was here.

His leg was already beginning to ache with trying to hold himself up, and he took the indignity of crawling on his hands and knee into the bedroom, in only a towel, rooting under the bed until his hand fell on the cold outside of the prosthetic.

He closed his eyes unable to look as he pulled it out from under the bed and strapped it on feeling the motors whirr to life as he finally picked himself up off the floor.

He refused to look down as he walked over to the drawers and pulled out a fresh set of clothes, tossing his nasty ones into a bin in the closet.

Over the sound of the fan in the bathroom, he thought he could hear the sound of a vacuum and then pots and pans clanging in the kitchen.

Curious, he stepped out into the hallway only to find that the front room had been tidied. The chairs and overturned tables had been picked up, the glass had been vacuumed, and waffles was greedily staring at Ramirez as he popped a piece of toast from the toaster,  buttering it lightly before handing ti down to the dog, who took it gently and walked over to her bowl.

Ramirez looked over his shoulder, “She deserves it after having to deal with your dumbass for the past few weeks.”

He took a seat at the dining room table.

“Feeling any better?”

“Feeling human at least…. I guess.”

“Good,also you better be hungry because I am making breakfast.”

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

Ramirez raised an eyebrow at him, “Really, I  come from a long and illustrious line of people who enjoy fiestas and siestas, so of course I know how to cook. My abuela would be horrified you even suggested such a thing. Just because YOU can’t cook.” he turned to the kitchen, “All this food in here, and the only thing I find open is a box of cereal, which is weird because no milk was open, which makes me think you have just been shoveling it into your face dry like dog food. Speaking of dog food, you HAVE been feeding waffles, right?”

Adam frowned a little affronted, “Of course I have!”

“Good, because I was about to slap your bitch as if you weren't.” Across the room waffles licked her chops rather loudly.

Adam paused and looked down at the table as Ramirez walked over setting a plate in front of him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Taking care of you, what does it look like. My matronly side really comes out when I think my friends are being stupid. Now eat your breakfast, or the shoe comes off.”

“The shoe?’

“Another long and glorious tradition passed down through the centuries that involves throwing your shoe and disobedient children.”

Adam raised his hands, “Ok, ok, I’m eating.”

He picked up the fork as ramirez turned to sit down next to him.

As soon as he took a bite, his mouth exploded with flavor, it was so good it was almost as if he could experience it through all five senses, and even a few more. His mouth began to immediately water. He hadn’t eaten like this in months, and found that he was surprisingly ravenous.”

Ramirez looked on smugly as he polished off the plate and then saat back in his seat,.

“More?”

Adam nodded.

Ramirez took the plate and returned with a second helping, which Adam managed much more slowly this time.

“So….”

“So?”

“How is the crew.”

The  atmosphere seemed to sour just a little. Ramirez shrugged, “Since you left, its been ok I guess. Simon is doing alright but she kind of a stickler for rules, and becomes even more so when she is stressed, which kind of puts a damper on things….. She not as good as you are truth be told.”

There was a silence in the room.

“And…. Kanan?”

“Oh he’s still pissed. I am pretty sure when you get back you might have to duel him, or at least take a punch, but he’s sort of stepped up to take care of the clan and….. The weapons system since….”

“So she’s still gone is she/’

Ramirez sighed, “yeah, she's still gone, but she left a bunch of her stuff on the ship, and apparently she told kanan she was only going to be out for a couple of months, so here is to hoping she returns.” Ramirez paused turning to look at Adam with a frown.

Adam shrugged, “What.”

“You’re a real dumbass, you know that.” Adam sighed, “Soyou have said.”

“No no, you are going to hear me out for a second because I have a few things to say to you. I have been thinking bout it on my trip to find you, and I think its about time someone said them.”

Adam waited.

“You are the smartest dumb person I have ever met.” Adam blinked, “Here is a man who doesn’t need to do orbital calculations to fly a jet into orbit. He is a man who knows exactly what to do and what to say to new alien species. Here is a man who practically defined a generation, and yet here is that same dumbass abandoning his support system when he needs it the most. You have that habit, you know that. The habit of telling the Rest of us to F-off when you really need us. Its like you think that somehow we can’t handle your problems, when bitch, we have problems of our own, and if we can’t handle your we wouldn’t be offering to help. He leaned forward across the table, “You need to step up and do better because this is getting tiring.”

Adam remained in his seat staring at Ramirez and he sat back.

“Are you done?”

“No.” He slumped a bit, “But that will have to do for now.”

Adam sighed,, stared out the window at the Lunar landscape for a long moment before, “You know after years and years, after therapy and after psychologist after psychologist….. Not one has anyone ever said that.”

Ramirez watched him shiftily, not sure where this was going.

“Ive been waiting years for someone to tell me that?”

Ramirez blinked, “ok…. Ok well… shit I didn’t really expect that to work. I was just pissed to be honest.”

Adam shrugged.

“I get tired of people being so understanding all the time. It doesn’t help…. At least not me anyway.”

“Well in that case.”

Ramirez stood and walked over to his duffel bag, “You and I are going to go on a little vacation. Get out and experience the universe while we are still young. Find ourselves, and hopefully get into a shit ton of trouble.”

Adam frowned, “Are you sure about this.”

He grinned, “yes, and I know the perfect palace to start.”

He grabbed the duffle bag, and then flipped it’s contents onto the floor, “Your mom gave me these.”

Andam stood and walked over, turning to look down at the pile of clothes before snorting a laugh, “You can’t be serious.”

Ramirez grinned, “Nothing more wild that the final frontier.”

Adam reached down, and picked up two sets of wide brimmed cowboy hats from the floor pulling them apart. One was black and the other was a light tan, “You aren’t serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking.”

With a snort he reached over and crammed the hat on to Ramirez’s head before pulling the black hat onto his own.

Ramirex struck a pose, ‘What do you think, make a pretty good cowboy, wont I.”

“You look like as much of a dumbass as I am.”

“Ouch, that really hurts me on the inside you know.”

Adam turned to look at his reflection in the window, “So this is how you are going to fix me huh, playing dress up?”

“Ok, number one I am hoping to help you fix yourself, number two your mother says you love playing dress up, and number three, I want to go on a cool vacation, but no one else will go with me.”

Adam sighed, and rolled his eyes, “Ok, ok we will go on a vacation.”

Ramirez rubbed his hands together evilly, “Excellent.”

[wouldpollyapprove]

Used

Requested:  Can you please do “I swear, if you say another word, I’ll leave.” and "Don't do this here" with Tommy??

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 928

A/N: It’s short I know, but it’s better than nothing.

The music was at it’s height, allowing couples to come and go from the dance floor. Y/n couldn’t help but smile as she watched her mother drag her father onto the floor. Her father was by no means a dancer. There wasn’t a rhythmic bone in his body, but no matter how hard he resisted, her mother always was able to get him on the dance floor. They were so happy, swaying in time with the music as much as her father would allow. 

That’s what she wanted. That was the love that Y/n wanted to have.

She turned from her parents to see that her boyfriend had disappeared. It wasn’t unusual for him to slip away for one reason or another, but this was her brother’s wedding, and she had hoped he would stay by her side. Y/n sighed and stood from her chair to go find herself a drink. 

She slipped between drunk aunt and rowdy children until she reached the bar her brothers had set up. Her father owned a pub so it wasn’t hard for them to stock up the makeshift bar. Y/n leaned against the bar, waiting for her brother to notice her presence.

“Y/n, what can I get ya?” Danny asked as he filled a mug full of beer. 

She shrugged, “Whatever’s good,”

He nodded and turned his back to her while he poured a few different liquids into a glass. A few minutes later, he set it in front of her with a thud.

“Have you seen Tommy?” she asked, sipping from her drink. It was strong, that was for sure. 

Her brother nodded, “Yeah, he was here just a minute ago. Why? Is he trying to avoid mom again?”

Y/n laughed, that was likely the case. Ever since y/n had introduced Tommy to her parents, her mother had never stopped bothering him about when the two were to be married. As much as Y/n tried to assure her mother it would happen one day, her mother never left the man alone about it. 

But it became clear that wasn’t why he’d vanished when Y/n and Danny both turned at the sound of their uncle’s distinct laugh. Right beside him stood none other than Mr. Thomas Shelby. Something in the air had changed once her eyes landed on the men and in an instant, she knew that Tommy had only come to the wedding with her to do business. 

She should have known. 

With a curt smile, Y/n grabbed her drink and head off to the man she loved. To the man she was going to kill if he was doing what she believed he was doing. 

“I didn’t know you knew so much about cars, but the world is a surprising place,” Y/n’s uncle Kurt said to Tommy, a small laugh escaping at the end. 

Tommy nodded and took a sip of his drink. 

Y/n stopped in front of the two men and shook her head at Tommy. “How da-” she started before Tommy grabbed her by the elbow and drug her away from her uncle. 

He didn’t stop until they were outside and out of earshot. 

“How dare you do something like this, Thomas!” she yelled, finally free of his hold. “How dare you!”

Tommy didn’t say anything for a minute, just waited for her to cool down a bit. But there was no cooling Y/n down. When he saw that there was no reason to wait any longer he let out a sigh. “Y/n, we were just talking.”

She scoffed, bullshit. “No, you weren’t. Thomas Shelby doesn’t ‘just talk’ to anyone. I know you were doing business.”

“Is it really that bad if I was?”

“Yes, yes it is that bad. This is my family and I don’t want them to be involved with the Peaky Blinders,” she tried to tell him. 

But he was a stubborn man and she knew he wouldn’t listen. He never listened, not even to himself sometimes. That would change though, she would make it change. 

Tommy rolled his eyes, “It would be legitimate business, Y/n. There’s no need to worry.”

“You say that every time! But you know, there is always need to worry when you are involved.”

Tommy shook his head, no believing what he was hearing. “What are you saying?”

“I am saying that you always find a way to hurt people whether you intend to or not! Everyone gets hurt around you and I don’t want you to hurt my family!” Tears stung her eyes as she let the words fall out. She’d never meant to say such harsh things to the man, but he never seemed to grasp the consequences his actions caused. 

“Don’t do this here,” he urged her. “Let’s not argue, not now. This is your brother’s wedding, we should be celebrating.”

Y/n threw her arms up. God, he was impossible. “Really!?! Now you care that this is my brother’s wedding. Now you care!”

He opened his mouth only for Y/n to shake her head. “I swear, if you say another word, I’ll leave.”

He quickly shut his mouth as she brushed past him. Y/n wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night in the company of Danny at the bar. She felt like a fool, thinking that she could get away from the Peaky Blinders for a few hours. There was no way to get away from it, not when she was with Tommy.

[daisybeewrites]

The Best Medecine

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluffflufffluff

requested? no i just needed to see daisy take care of daniel

ship: dousy/daniel sousa x daisy johnson

PART 2!! idr have an authors note today, just enjoy :)

(gif not mine)

Daniel felt like crap. 

He had caught Daisy’s cold, and the effects were hitting him harder than a ton of bricks. 

Daisy had recovered fairly quickly after he smoothly convinced her to take the proper medicine and rest. They had a great few days where both of them felt alive and normal, not like zombie versions of themselves. Going grocery shopping (avoiding the soup aisle, they already had a freezer full), taking a day trip to hike the Eaton Canyon trail and picnic, testing out a new prosthetic Fitz designed, and pulling an all-nighter to binge-watch Grey’s Anatomy completed the week wonderfully.

Things were going great! Almost too great. Things never go this great in their universe. Which is why neither of them were surprised when Daniel shot up in bed at 4am sneezing, waking Daisy and, she joked, the rest of the street. He tried to go back to sleep, only to wake up with a loud achoo! ten minutes later. Daniel rubbed his forehead, the pressure centered between his eyebrows insisting that he was not going to get any sort of true rest that day. 

He told a sleepy Daisy that he felt fine, that he just needed a hot bath. It was probably just the spring allergies, right? Nothing to worry about, Daniel told himself as he swung his leg over the side of the bed, grabbing his crutches and lumbering to the bathroom. He splashed his face with warm then cold water before quickly checking that Daisy was asleep again, her silhouette rising with deep breaths, outlined in diffused blue light from the stars on the ceiling. Maybe he could shake this before it got too bad? Surely, it wouldn’t disrupt his routine too much?

Daniel quietly crutched to the soft couch, grabbing a blanket from the pile on the armchair. The flannel of the blankets and the comfortable give of the couch lulled Daniel into a restless sleep. 

Early morning turned to late morning turned to afternoon, Daniel only waking up from tossing and turning when Daisy shook him and offered a sinus pill, which he gulped down with an entire cup of cool water. Three ice cubes shaped like half moons knocked into each other as he tipped the cup back, letting the smooth liquid drown out the scratchiness in his throat.

A glance at the clock alarmed him, mentally calculating how long he slept. He noticed the second quilt that had been laid on top of him, the fleecy textile one Daisy frequently curled up with when she had a bad day. He could faintly smell her coconut and lavender conditioner. It tickled his nose.

“Sweetheart?” Daniel called weakly.

“Mmm?” Daisy hummed.

“I slept for fourteen hours?” Though he asked a question, his tone was almost a statement.

Daisy nodded, slightly smiling. “I think you caught my cold. Maybe cuddling so much wasn’t a good idea.”

Daniel chuckled a little, but stopped when he saw the flicker of worry in her eyes. He reached over to her and grabbed her hand. “I don’t regret any time spent helping you feel better, Daisy.”

She smiled, mirroring his expression. Their eyes both crinkled at the sides, happy gazes taking in the other. Daisy’s eyes still furrowed though, and Daniel cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the frog there before speaking. The action only scratched his throat, a string of coughs interrupting the couple’s staring contest. 

“Hey, could you bring me som—” Daniel was cut off by more crackling coughs. Daisy threw him a concerned glance. He could hardly keep his eyes open, hands clammy and forehead burning, body shaking with hacks. He could feel the dip in the cushion as Daisy moved to sit down beside him, resting her hand on his forehead. Her cool skin felt incredible on his. He understood why she liked it so much when he had done the same. 

He slowly opened his eyes, ignoring the dry, itchy feeling and opting to focus on Daisy above him. She looked beautiful, like an angel, with airy morning light surrounding her and two messy braids running down her back. She was his angel. His angel was smirking at the way he leaned into her touch. 

“These?” she asked, as she held up a small, blue box of tissues. He nodded, swallowing thickly before sitting up and scooting back to lean against the rounded arm of the tan couch. Daisy laughed quietly. 

“What?”

She continued giggling, her small laugh growing a little.

“What’s funny?”

Daisy leaned forward and rested a hand on his thigh for balance. 

“You’re wearing those pajama pants I got you for Christmas,” she explained. He glanced down, recognizing the tiny planets of their solar system dyed into the plush fabric. “They’re cute on you.”

He smiled, gazing at Daisy. Then he sneezed. Luckily, he picked up a tissue and covered his face in time to not sneeze in Daisy’s face. Daisy leaned back, laughing. Daniel started to, too, a low rumble in his chest diffusing the nerves he had felt. This was the first time Daisy had ever seen him sick. There was that one time in space when he had almost gotten (unintentionally) poisoned by alien coffee, but that was an unpleasant memory he didn’t want to dwell on. Other than that, not a single sniffle had popped up. 

Daisy suddenly stood up and slid to the kitchen in sock feet, a large grin on her face.

“Dais, where’re you going?” he wondered out loud. 

“The kitchen, duh,” she replied as she slid to the soapstone countertops, grabbing a red and white box out of the counter. 

Daniel recognized it as Daisy’s favourite tea, she had bought it on a mission in South Africa and became enamoured with it. Sometimes Daniel would catch her up at odd hours of the night, when she couldn’t sleep, out on the back patio drinking a steaming mug of Rooibos. He knew it was her favourite, and it had slowly become his, too. Lately, they have made a habit out of winding down from long days at work with mugs in their hands, on the couch or in the backyard, red-amber liquid relaxing their minds and limbs. Those were some of his favourite times with Daisy, spent talking and drinking their tea and laughing at reruns of sitcoms.

The sound of hot water trickling into a mug pulled him out of his thoughts. The mug in question was one he had made for Daisy—large and hand painted, artsy flicks of white and yellow and blue serving as reminders of their time in space. That was a modern invention he was particularly fond of (paint your own pottery, not space). It was mesmerizing to watch the colored, chalky paint glide onto the ceramic surface. He often went to this local hole-in-the-wall café that let you paint one of their mugs and bring it home, for an extra charge. Their coffee and ‘old-fashioned southern’ biscuits were delicious.

Daniel stared as Daisy danced around the kitchen, her fishtails swishing and hips swaying. There was no music, just her. She dunked the tea bag in a couple times and let it steep. When the tea was ready, she poured in a squeeze of honey and grabbed a shiny green bottle of cough syrup, carefully walking over to the couch. Daniel gently took the mug from her, using the corner of the blanket as a barrier so as not to burn his hands. Daisy sat on the coffee table across from him, smiling as Daniel took a sip. 

“Hot!” he exclaimed.

“I know I am, you don’t have to tell me,” Daisy teased. “Do you want some ice cubes?”

“Jemma would disapprove,” Daniel shot back.

Daisy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Jemma has put up with my odd tea-drinking since 2013. I already made the tea wrong, might as well make it so that you won’t burn yourself trying to drink it.” 

Daniel watched Daisy laugh. As ill as he felt, Daisy just being there helped tremendously. The tea soothed his scratchy throat and her laugh sped up his heart. He knew the pink dust on his cheeks couldn’t be attributed to fever alone. 

The pair sat in silence for a while as Daniel finished the tea, thankful for the warm beverage. His headache was slightly dissipating, due to the tea or Daisy’s light aura he wasn’t sure. He sat the mug down on the table and leaned up to peck Daisy’s lips. She leaned in a bit putting her hand on his chest to pull away.

“How about that bath?”

“Only if you come, too,” Daniel whispered.

Daisy chuckled. “You, lover boy, are sick. If we keep this up, one of us is always going to be sick. And plus, I need you distracted while I make a surprise!”

Daniel perked up, his slight pout disappearing. “A surprise…?”

“Yes, Danny-boy, a surprise. Which means I can’t tell you, so sit here and I’ll go fill the tub and then you can feel the full effects of that chill pill.”

Daniel leaned towards Daisy, confused. “What chill pill?”

“This chill pill,” Daisy said, leaning forward until her nose almost touched his. Daniel’s head swam with the scent of her silky blonde hair and vanilla lotion. She gently rubbed her hands up and down his arms and over his shoulders. He took a moment to watch the twinkle in her eye, the warmth resonating through him. He felt the tension from staying on the couch all day slowly release, his arms coming to wrap loosely around Daisy’s back in an attempt to keep her there. She shook her head with a grin and sat up, easing off the couch.

Daisy kissed Daniel’s forehead before walking down the hall to the bathroom. Daniel watched her leave, conflicted. Shouldn’t he be able to take care of himself? He had for years, why stop now? It isn’t like he couldn’t fill up the tub, or cook or grab tissues, no matter how light headed he got. Why did she want to help him? ‘Because I love you, you stubborn square!’ Daisy would say. He could practically hear her protest, ‘Just let me take care of you! It won’t hurt!’

 If he was honest with himself, that’s all he wanted. 

So, he did.

Daisy came back into the living room, the faint sound of water rushing creating a comforting ambience. He didn’t have his leg on, as laying around all day didn’t require it and he was more comfortable without the prosthetic cramming against the back of the couch. He reached back and grabbed the pair of crutches that were leaned against the arm of the sofa. Daisy walked with him back to the bathroom, making sure he didn’t lose his balance due to dizziness from dehydration. Apparently, that was one reason Daisy had felt so horrible after her mission, she had been so busy taking down bad guys that she almost took herself down, too. Even knowing that dehydration isn’t contagious, neither of them wanted him falling into décor à la Daisy. 

They reached the bathroom, Daisy running to their room to grab an extra set of sweats for Daniel to put on once he was done. 

While she was rummaging through drawers, Daniel carefully undressed and got into the deep tub.

The bath felt incredible. He could smell the lavender from the fancy epsom salt that Daisy had gotten him wafting up from small waves he created. The water was warm, but not so hot that it burned and not so lukewarm that it would go cold in a few minutes. 

“Dais, this is first-class,” Daniel called. 

Daisy giggled a bit before responding. “First-class?”

“I know you’re poking fun, but thank you. It feels amazing.”

Daisy peeked her head around the corner, nodding. 

“I'm glad you like it. Now I'm gonna go fix that surprise. Yell if you need anything, k?”

Daniel nodded and relaxed his head back, muscles slowly easing their tension and his eyes softly closing. 

“Oh, shit!!”

Daniel startled, bath water dripping over onto the towels lining the tub. Daisy’s exclamation didn’t seem pained, but he couldn’t help his brow from creasing. He felt fairly rested, he wasn’t sure how long he had been napping in the water. It had gone from pleasantly warm to tepid, he guessed around thirty minutes at the most. 

“Dais, everything alright?”

Daisy paused before responding, “Yep! Got it all under control!”

Daniel smiled and shook his head, figuring it was probably time to get out and troop back to the living room, anyway.

He grabbed the grip-bar beside the tub and eased up, sitting on the edge before swinging his good leg around and stepping onto the floor. He grabbed a towel off his hook on the wall and started to dry off. Daisy had set a pair of comfy pants and a shirt on the counter, which he pulled on before grabbing his crutches and making his way to the kitchen. Something smelled… burnt. 

He rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks. 

“Uh, Dais?”

“It’s burned, I know,” Daisy said, disconcertedly.

“Are you okay?”

Daisy was staring disappointedly at two bowls of seemingly okay soup. She gestured loosely to the sink, Daniel’s eye following. 

“Oh, okay, yeah, I see.”

There was a large pot sitting in the sink, filled with greyish water, black bits glued to the bottom. 

“I’m sorry. I know cooking isn’t exactly my thing.”

Sousa smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. Daisy’s hands fidgeted, rubbing at her neck.

“Is the soup in the bowls good?”

Daisy looked him up and down, a twinkle of mirth in her eye, like she knew something he didn’t. She shrugged, “The char adds flavour.”

At that, Daniel grinned and stepped forward a little, leaning against the counter next to her. “I’m up for some extra flavour.”

Daisy looked over at him with an odd expression. “Even sick, never fails.”

Daniel responded immediately, “Through sickness and health.”

Daisy’s eyes went wide. 

“Relax, I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Daisy’s posture slumped a little as she hit his bicep. “Funny. You’re a funny, funny man.”

He nodded and felt a deep laugh in his chest. “I am very funny, yes.”

Daisy squinted her eyes at him, turning and picking up their bowls of soup to set on the kitchen island. She slid onto one of the backless bar stools that served as seats for when she didn’t feel like being fancy and eating at a table. Sousa took a moment before following, leaning his crutches against the cabinet after sliding onto the stool across from Daisy. He picked up a spoon and tasted the soup, swallowing down a grimace and giving her a thumbs up. 

“It's great!” Daniel exclaimed.

Daisy pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at him, tasting a spoonful. She was not as great at acting as Daniel was, and could barely keep herself from spitting it out.

“Oh, god, that’s awful!” Despite her wry expression, she was giggling as she picked her cell out of her pajama short’s pocket. Daniel eyed her, perplexed as Daisy hit a button in her .

“Yes, hi... Thank you. Can we get six egg rolls, a small veggie fried rice, a plate of crab wontons, and a small shrimp lo-mein?... Yes! Thank you!... Alright, we’ll be there in ten. Have a good evening!” Daniel watched as Daisy hung up, a bright grin slowly spreading across her face.

Daniel mirrored her, smiling wide. “Chinese food?”

“Yep,” Daisy nodded, popping the 'p'. 

Daisy slid lithely off the seat, grabbing the bowls of blackened soup and trashing them. She felt bad, throwing away food. She never got rid of food unless she absolutely had to. Old habits die hard. 

She turned around and gave Daniel a smile. She noticed that he wasn’t as pale, his face wasn’t as flushed and he wasn’t swaying like his head was full of air. Maybe she had helped more than she thought. They walked out to Daisy’s car, a metallic dark grey crossover with slightly tinted windows. Daisy got in on the drivers side, Daniel climbing into the passenger. She cranked the car and turned up the radio, checking that Daniel was okay. It was a slightly chilly evening, and the windows were rolled down just enough to let the air in. 

The evening felt great, the cool air and orange-pink sky refreshing their senses. Daniel’s eyes were soft as he gazed at Daisy. Even though he caught her cold, he had the feeling that Daisy was the best medicine. Lucky him.

Maybe things do go this great in our universe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

awwwwwww, cuuuuuuute! as always, feel free to drop a request in my ask box (linked in the bio) or comment any thoughts!! thanks for reading!!

[perseusannabeth]

Bottled Up Storms - Chapter 1

So this is something I started writing thanks to a prompt I received (shout out to the anon who sent me that). I’m sorry that this has taken me so long to write, but my job has been kicking my arse so I haven’t had much time to write. I originally was going to write this as a one shot but lmao oops it turned out a little too long and I have too many ideas so now it’ll be a multi-chapter fic. 

This is a pregnancy fic for Nessian. I don’t really know much about being pregnant so everything is from google so I’m sorry if I get stuff wrong. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you want to be added to my tags list!

Description: Nesta and Cassian have been living in the Illyrian mountains for some months now, and they had it all figured out. They mostly ignored each other, and seemed to be getting by. However, after one drunken night together, they must deal with the consequences of what they have created together, both the new life they created, and the lives they have created for themselves.

This is also posted on AO3

Word count: 4511

They didn’t talk about the fact that they’d had sex. It was a one-time thing, and something not to be repeated as far as they were both concerned. They had both been drunk and they needed to feel something. There had been tension lingering around them ever since Nesta had been ordered to go with Cassian to Illyria. The tension was normal around the two of them, it had been there ever since they had first met, which felt like a lifetime ago. The tension had built until it was going to burst. That’s what had happened that drunken night.  

Nesta found she was fine not talking about what had happened between them. She didn’t want to talk about the mind-blowing sex, the way Cassian had looked at her like she was his world, the way he had held her after, how it had made her feel calm and safe, the way she’d had the best nights sleep since Gods know when, the way she had woken up to him staring at her with such love and wonder that she couldn’t breathe. Cassian hadn’t spoken about it either. He had just watched her as she left his room. The weight of his gaze nowadays was suffocating but different reasons. Now it was heavy with the memories of that night, of what they could be if she wasn’t so broken, and if she hadn’t been such a coward and left. 

Nesta was content to go about her life at the blasted camp her sister had dumped her at, barely seeing Cassian. She carried on with her routine of going to see Emerie in the shop. She would help if she needed it, but Emerie so rarely had customers that she did things herself just so she could keep busy. After spending a few hours with Emerie, sometimes talking and sometimes sitting in comfortable silence, she would wander around the camp, sometimes watching the training of the women, sometimes tiring and going to the cabin she shared with Cassian and reading one of her books. 

Very occasionally, Nesta would wander down to the healer’s tent and help them. She worked in silence, just doing as she was told, but the work was good for tiring her out and keeping her hands and mind busy. It made her feel useful, something she had not felt in a long time, maybe not ever. 

She hadn’t felt the need to drink herself into oblivion like she had done most nights in Velaris. Maybe the distance had helped, but Nesta still couldn’t bring herself to thank her sister for sending her away. Even when she and Cassian had… made their mistake that night, she wasn’t anywhere near as drunk as she could’ve been. She just pretended she was after it had happened so that Cassian wouldn’t talk to her about it. She was eating too, although that was a bit more hit and miss. She was shocked to find that the alcohol she could easily leave, but the punishing her body, the not eating, that was harder to do. Still, she was making progress and eating something is better than nothing. Her lack of drinking meant she was throwing up less, meaning she was slowly starting to look healthier. Her nightmares did cause her to throw up though, so the food didn’t always stay down. She still couldn’t make much of a dent in the food that Cassian plated up for her, but she still felt a small amount of pride for eating what she did. 

Which is why she was confused. She was being sick in the morning, despite the fact she hadn’t drank any alcohol since that night with Cassian. She wouldn’t even have it with her meal, just in case her control slipped. The alcohol made her too free, which was dangerous around Cassian.

This was the third morning in a row now, where Nesta had been sick. At first, she had thought it was food poisoning, but Cassian was fine and he always cooked for both of them. Plus, she had felt better later on in the day. She had gone to the healers who told her she wasn’t ill. They had offered to check her over more extensively, but Nesta refused, hoping whatever it was would go away. 

It hadn’t. Because of course, of course, things could never be that easy for Nesta. This morning was particularly bad. She was sat on the floor in the bathroom and had been for the past half an hour. She didn’t want to risk getting up because every time she did, she felt sick again. Cassian was (thank the cauldron) at his morning training session, and wouldn’t be back until dinner. She had the cabin to herself for the day to deal with whatever this was. 

She decided to move to the sink to rinse her mouth out with water. She didn’t want to risk going into the kitchen to get a glass, just in case she was sick again. As she stood up, her body protested, and her stomach churned. Nesta took a deep breath in the hopes it would calm her stomach, but she had no such luck as she once again leaned over the toilet bowl, slowly sinking to her knees again as she retched again. 

Nesta always prided herself on being well aware of her surroundings. However, while she was being sick, she didn’t notice Cassian coming back into the cabin. Nor did she hear his footsteps getting closer and closer as he followed the noises she was making. 

Cassian stood in the doorway of the bathroom and stared at Nesta who had now stopped being sick and was leaning against the bathtub, panting. Nesta glared at him, but without as much heat as she would’ve liked, exhausted from throwing up for half an hour. 

“Are you alright?” Cassian asked, seeming to break himself out of whatever was going on in his head. 

“Do I look alright to you?” Nesta bit back, taking deep breaths as her stomach churned again. She closed her eyes, willing her stomach to settle, hoping that the cool feeling of the bathtub against her would help. 

“A little too much fun last night?”

“Yes, it was a joy, sitting in my room all night, reading my book until I fall asleep, not having to be around you,” Nesta replied, angry that he would imply she had been drinking. 

He seemed thrown by that. They both knew that she wouldn’t lie about the drinking, she had never felt the need to before. She wasn’t ashamed of her chosen coping habit, it wasn’t hurting anyone else, just herself. It shouldn’t bother everyone as much as it does, but if they choose to worry about her drinking habit then that’s on them, she didn’t care. Or so she would keep telling herself.  

“I… are you saying you haven’t been drinking?” Cassian asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

“I haven’t drank any alcohol since-” she cut herself off, unable to say that she hadn’t touched alcohol since that night they had shared. 

Thankfully, Cassian seemed to realise what she was about to say and just cleared his throat awkwardly and gave her a small nod. “Okay then, shall I get a healer?” 

“No, I’ll go down myself, I’m fine now anyway.” Nesta tried to slowly move, but it was no use. Her stomach churned again as she turned quickly to the toilet before being sick again. 

Nesta’s whole body shook as she was sick, she could feel her energy draining with each time she heaved, her nose and mouth, filling with the acidic smell and taste of her vomit. She couldn’t believe she was vomiting this much, not when she didn’t think she had this much lining her stomach to even get rid of in the first place. She felt a warm hand slowly rub her back as she threw up, so softly it hurt her heart. 

Eventually, her body stopped, perhaps running out of things to force out of her, although Nesta was not very hopeful. Her body was clearly punishing her for all the havoc she had caused when she was drinking her meals. She leaned back against the bathtub once again, Cassian’s hand still so soft and warm on her back. She could feel the liquid around her nose, mouth and the tears that had escaped as she had been sick leaving marks down her cheeks. She closed her eyes, wishing Cassian was anywhere but here, wishing he wasn’t seeing her like this. 

Perhaps Nesta’s wishes come true quickly, but perhaps that’s only true when her wish is something that will hurt her. Cassian slowly stood up and left her in the bathroom. He returned briefly with a glass of water and some tissues to try and clean her face up as best he could. She would have stopped him, and his soft movements as he wiped her face, but she didn’t have the energy to stop him, to yell, to be a bitch and push him away. Not right now. But maybe she could do it without even trying because she closed her eyes and felt him leave, and heard the front door open and shut, and the cabin was once again was empty. 

Nesta sat on the floor for what felt like an age. Time seemed to pass differently when you’ve been sick all morning. She waited until she started feeling a bit better, her legs not feeling as weak or shaky, her stomach settling down slightly, her nose stopped stinging, her eyes stopped watering. She slowly moved herself to stand up, trying to keep her movements as smooth and slow as possible, in the hopes it wouldn’t make her sick again. 

Her limbs felt too heavy for her, her body exhausted from being sick. She didn’t have the energy to deal with people, she didn’t want to speak to anyone or see anyone. She wanted to sleep. Even though she was sleeping better than she had been, her sleep was interrupted, bitty, and more like she was taking several naps at night rather than getting proper rest. She didn’t bother undressing or undoing her braided hair. She simply walked over to her bed and collapsed, feeling grateful that her room wasn’t far from the bathroom.  

She closed her eyes but knew that despite the exhaustion her body was feeling, her mind would not let her sleep. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about Cassian’s hand on her back. It was the first time he had touched her since that night. It hurt, that he didn’t want to touch her again unless he had to, but she understood. Things were so messy between the two of them, they needed space between them. Nesta couldn’t think when she was near Cassian, and when he touched her it felt like he had lit a fuse. She was sure that if she hadn’t been otherwise occupied when he had touched her, she would’ve reacted differently. She was glad that she hadn’t since she had been embarrassed enough for one day. 

Cassian clearly felt she hadn’t been embarrassed enough, however, because he returned, and she could clearly hear the voice of another person with him. She recognised the voice of the healers from the tent that she helped out in. Their footsteps grew closer, and Nesta, in her panic, decided that she would pretend to be asleep. 

“Oh,” was all that Cassian said as he opened the door and saw her fully dressed and asleep on top of her covers. She had been so exhausted that she couldn’t even muster the energy to get under them before they had arrived. “Shall I wake her?”

“It’s okay general, you can go and wait elsewhere. I will wake her up and speak to her,” there was silence, Cassian not moving away like he had been told to. Eventually, he let out a small sigh and walked away into their shared living space as the healer shut the door behind him. 

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now. You may have fooled the general but that won’t work on me.”

Nesta slowly opened her eyes and looked at the healer. She was short, with dark brown hair, tied in a neat bun. Her wings were clipped, but she seemed to carry herself in a way that suggested she was fairly old even for fae standards, and she wore the typical healers uniform, which was immaculate. In fact, everything about this woman was immaculate, which put Nesta on edge even on a normal day. After three days of being sick every morning, Nesta wanted nothing more to hide under her blanket. She did not give in to her urge to hide, however, and slowly sat up on her bed, hoping not to make the queasy feeling turn into something more again.   

“I know we’ve seen each other around the tent, but I’ve never had a chance to speak to you before. I’m Theodora. I heard you were throwing up this morning? Is this the first time you’ve done that?” As she asked the questions, Theodora set her bag down on the foot of the bed and started rifling through it and putting things onto the bed. 

“I’m Nesta. And no, this is now the third day this has been happening. It seemed to calm down yesterday afternoon so I hoped that it was just a stomach bug that had passed.” 

Theodora looked up at her in surprise. “Three days?”

“Yes although I have been feeling a bit queasy for much longer than that, I just learnt to ignore it.”

“Hmm okay, and how long have you been noticing my queasiness?” Nesta paused, unsure if she should divulge all her secrets with the healer, in case she told Cassian or anyone what she had been suffering recently. As if able to sense her worries, Theodora added, “Nothing you say will be shared with anyone else without your permission.”

Slightly comforted that if someone was to find out at least she would have warning, Nesta decided to share her troubles. “I’ve been feeling sick ever since my last period.” 

“How long ago was that?”

“It was supposed to be 2 weeks ago, but it never came. That isn’t unusual though. I’ve put my body through a lot, my periods are never predictable.”

Theodora pursed her lips and nodded to indicate she was listening as she looked through her healer’s bag once more, a small frown on her face. When she found what she was looking for, she inspected it, before looking up at Nesta. 

“This is a routine question I ask every female, so please don’t get offended, but is there any chance you could be pregnant? Just so I can choose my treatment method correctly.”

Nesta froze. Pregnant? Surely not. Fae pregnancies were difficult and rare, she knew that. With what Nesta had been putting her body through before coming to Illyria, she wasn’t even sure she could do that right now. There was no way she could be pregnant, could she? But then a flash of blurry memory hit her, stumbling into Cassian’s room, the desperation, ripping each other’s clothes off and “oh fuck could I be pregnant?”

“I, erm, I don’t know,” was all she could stutter in a small voice, her throat constricting, making it difficult for her not to cry. She didn’t know for sure, but she suddenly had a very bad feeling about all of this. 

“Right then, we will do a pregnancy test first in that case. I’ll just go get you some water because I’ll need a urine sample to find out for sure,” Theodora smiled at her before walking off towards the kitchen. 

Nesta remained frozen on the bed, staring at the open door. She could hear Cassian speaking to the healer, but she couldn’t focus on what was being said, she couldn’t focus on anything. She was pregnant, she knew it as soon as Theodora has asked. This was just another way to punish her. It was probably that damned cauldron’s idea of a joke. Of course, she would get pregnant after the one time she slept with her ma- with Cassian. It was like the cauldron could tell that she would run, avoid him, push him away. But if she was pregnant with his child, then she couldn’t do that. Nesta would need him, would want him to be involved if she had his child.

Before she could go even further into her thought spiral, Theodora came back with a large glass of water, which she handed to Nesta as she shut the door again. 

“The general tried to ask me questions, but don’t worry, I put him in his place and told him it was up to you to share any details with him,” Theodora said in a matter of fact tone. 

Nesta couldn’t reply, so she simply gave a small nod of acknowledgement and started drinking her water. Once she had finished the entire glass, she put it on her bedside table and finally drew the courage to look at the healer who was now seated on the other end of her bed. 

“What happens if I am?” Nesta couldn’t bring herself to say that word out loud yet. 

“Then you have options. You don’t have to keep it. But if you decide you do then we can help you learn more.” There was no judgement in Theodora’s voice. Just soft, kind words, letting Nesta take control of a situation which already felt too out of control. 

“What happens if I don’t want it.” Nesta could only whisper the question, looking down at her hands to avoid looking at the kind woman sat in front of her. She didn’t feel like she deserved the kindness, but right now she didn’t have the energy to stop her from being so kind. 

“Then that is your decision. We would tell you about the process, what we do, how it works. In the end, it would just be like heavy bleeding, nothing more.”

“I thought that fae pregnancies were…” Nesta trailed off, not knowing what she was going to say. Her mind was spinning with so many thoughts, she could barely think straight. 

“They are very rare, and when people want to be pregnant, then it is considered very blessed. But not everyone wants to keep that child. Not everyone’s circumstances are happy or healthy. Not everyone can afford to have that child. There are so many factors in pregnancies, not just someone putting their penis in a vagina.”

At the impassioned speech from Theodora, Nesta looked up to see something she couldn’t quite name painted across the healer’s face. All Nesta knew was that she felt understood. She felt unjudged and knew Theodora was not pitying her or the situation she was in. That helped calm the thoughts spinning around in her head. 

"I don't know what I want." Nesta looked down at her hands which were folded in her lap as she finally admit out loud what she had felt since she had emerged from that cursed cauldron. Before that, when she was human, things were simple enough. Her ambitions were simply to marry someone so she could live comfortably. As a woman, Nesta was well aware that she needed someone to look after her and provide her. That was not the case for her in this new Fae world, the possibilities seemed endless for Nesta. However, Nesta felt overwhelmed with the amount of freedom she had suddenly gained in this new world, she had no idea what to do with it.  

"You have some time. Think about it. It's early days yet. Finding out you're pregnant is always a shock, it can take some time to come to terms with that. There are other options too. Many Fae can't have children, so there's always the idea of adoption. Many loving parents would happily raise your child if you are not able to. You can choose to be involved if you want to, or not at all. The possibilities are endless." Theodora started packing her things away, not looking at Nesta as she spoke, which Nesta was grateful for.  

"I... thank you." 

"You're welcome. If you need someone to talk to, just know that I will all always be kept confidential. Even the high lord and lady could not make me break my oath to the people I serve. You know where to find me if you need me Nesta." Nesta gave a small nod, still not able to look up at the healer.  

“Do you need the bathroom yet?” Nesta thought for a second and then nodded. Theodora handed her a vial and instructed her to try and gather as much urine into the vial as possible, which seemed disgusting but Nesta went to the bathroom to do as she had been told. 

She came back and handed the vial to Theodora, cringing as she did. Nesta sat back down on the bed as she watched Theodora put a leaf, which she had kept out of her bags into her urine sample. The leaf floated and started to shrivel up as soon as it was emerged in the urine, turning a funny orange colour with little brown splotches on it. 

“What does that mean?” Nesta whispered, not being able to look away from the leaf. 

“It means that you’re pregnant my dear.” There was a short silence, as though Theodora was waiting for Nesta to say something, but when she didn't Theodora spoke again, breaking the awkward silence. "I will prepare the herbs you will need to drink in your morning tea and send them along to you. If you drink the tea from the herbs every morning, it should help with your morning sickness. If it persists despite the tea then let me know." 

"Thank you," Nesta murmured again, as though unable to think of what else to say in the face of such kindness from a virtual stranger, still trying to process what she had just been told, that her suspicions were correct. Theodora simply nodded and left the cottage, not even glancing at Cassian as she left.  

Cassian walked up to Nesta's room after Theodora left, leaning on the door frame and looked at Nesta's pale face as she stared at her hands, but not really seeing anything. It seemed Nesta was miles away, so he cleared his throat in order to get her attention. 

"Is everything alright?" His eyes looking over her body for signs of an injury, as though there would be something he could see on her body causing her to be unwell. 

"I'm fine," Nesta said, looking up at Cassian finally. He was trying to look casual, as though there was nothing going on, but Nesta could see the tension he was holding in his shoulders. He was worried about her. The realisation came with a large amount of shock. She couldn't quite believe that he was worried about her. Perhaps her shock got the better of her because before she could stop herself, she blurted out "I'm pregnant." 

Nesta's eyes widened as she cursed herself internally for not being able to keep her mouth shut. She looked up to see Cassian, to see he had frozen in shock, his eyes wide, staring at Nesta. Nesta could feel her heart beating in her chest, the tears starting to fill her eyes as Cassian said nothing, and just stared at her with different emotions flitting across his face, too quickly for her to guess what they might mean.  

"I... who? Is it... am I?" Cassian eventually managed to choke out, his eyes drifting to her stomach almost unconsciously.  

"It," Nesta paused, wondering if she should lie, not tell Cassian he was the father, wondering if she could somehow take all of it back. But she knew she couldn't when she saw Cassian looking at her flat stomach. His expression had finally settled on something, and that was hope. Nesta knew after spending time in the Illyrian camps, that Cassian's childhood had been terrible. She knew that Cassian would never, not in a million lifetimes, abandon this baby. "It's yours." She whispered, a tear managing to escape her eye. She quickly wiped it, but knew that it hadn't gone unnoticed. Nothing Nesta did ever went unnoticed where Cassian was concerned. 

"Do you want it?" Cassian asked softly. She knew that he would never begrudge her if she wanted to get rid of the baby. She could see, and she knew, that Cassian would love this baby with everything he had, but if Nesta decided she didn't want this baby, he would never hold it against her, and never stop her from getting rid of it. If she allowed him to, she knew he would be with her every step of the way for that too, even if it broke his heart.  

"I don't know." She closed her eyes, hoping that it would stop any more tears from escaping. 

"I'll stand by you, whatever you choose. You know that, right?" Cassian asked, almost desperately, like he needed to know that she knew this was her choice, and he would never leave her. The desperation in his voice reminded her of the metallic smell of the blood that the ground soaked up, his warm body beneath hers as he gasped for air and told her to leave him to die alone. 

Nesta couldn't get the words out, they got stuck in her throat. She choked out a small sob, unable to stop herself, and gave him a small nod, overcome with emotions. Before she could try to compose herself, to put up the icy exterior she relied on so much, she felt something warm and solid wrap around her. Cassian was silent as he held Nesta in his arms, something he hadn't done since the night they had spent together. Nesta finally let herself cry, unable to keep her emotions at bay any longer.  

 When she felt like she couldn't cry anymore, like she had run out of tears to cry, she slowly pulled away from Cassian's chest, where he had been holding her and stroking her back, telling her everything would be alright. She looked up at the male who had been by her side every step of the way, whether she wanted him there or not.  

She could feel her exhaustion taking over her, hitting her like a hammer. She tried to search for something to say, but didn't know how to put into words what she was feeling, not when she didn't even understand her emotions herself.  

"You should rest," Cassian said softly, as he moved her so she was lying down on her pillow. He pulled her blankets over her, smoothed her hair down and kissed her forehead. Nesta was asleep before he had even left the room, feeling calmer than she had any right to be.

Tags list: @hizqueen4life @kelly-fasel @sannelovesreading @acourtofmarauders @maastrash

[rainy-day-gracie]

Old Friends 8

So I’ve decided to make the last two chapters of this series like a two part finale almost. 9 and 10 will be the last chapters of Old Friends :(

But I do have more in the works, so don’t cry! Just enjoy this fluffy chapter with Spencer and the team. :))

Spencer Reid x Reader

Chapter 8:

JJ grabbed me by the arm as soon as I walked into the bullpen. 

“Explain to me why Henry is telling me that, I quote, ‘Uncle Spencer is in love with the smart lady.’?”

I just stared at her with wide eyes. “Um, I don’t know, maybe you should ask Spencer.” I tried to get away without grinning, but she kept her grip on my arm, a sly smirk on her face. 

“When you guys babysat Henry he definitely picked up on your flirty little banter, and now he’s constantly talking about how Spencer is so in love with you.” JJ let go of my arm and gave me a knowing glance. 

I was trying to keep from laughing hysterically. “How old is Henry?”

“He’s three.” 

Calming myself down, I walked past her to my desk. “JJ, I’m just going to be honest…” I looked her in the eye, faking seriousness. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

She gave a groan of frustration as Prentiss and Garcia walked past. “What are we talking about?” Prentiss saddled up next to me. “Are we talking about how you and Reid are totally hooking up?”

Garcia gasped. “Yesterday I heard them talking about their favorite French movies… the language of love!”

I raised my hands in the air in mock surrender. “Oh, you caught me! We were talking to each other, whoa!”

All three of the women rolled their eyes, and I could tell they weren’t leaving until they actually got something juicy. 

I sighed. “Okay, I’ve spent the night at his place a few times. Nothing happened,” I added quickly after seeing their scandalized faces. “We just eat ice cream and I crash on his couch. After what happened a few months ago, sometimes it’s hard to be alone.”

They all looked suspicious, but eventually they dropped it. 

I didn’t tell them the total truth, but they didn’t need to know details. 

Yes, we’ve kissed a few times, so what?

After a few minutes of working at my desk, a fresh coffee appeared next to me, and Spencer quickly was walking away. I giggled softly, watching him wink at me from across the bullpen. 

I heard Morgan snort as he was walking up behind my desk. “What, Morgan?” 

“Something fishy is going on with you and pretty boy over there,” Morgan pointed over to where Spencer was sorting through different files. 

“Something fishy? We’re old friends, you know that.” 

Morgan smirked, clearly unconvinced. “Old friends, my ass.”

We all came to attention when we saw Garcia power walking across the catwalk in her heels. “Minions of the BAU, you have a case!”

__

The stunt that I pulled, ignoring Hotch, happened almost a month ago and he was still pissed. I could read it on his face, and it was almost comical to see this normally stone cold leader so heated. 

“I think Dad is still mad at me,” I whispered to Prentiss, and she laughed out loud, drawing the attention of everyone in the briefing room. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Spencer with his little sweet puppy smile, the smile he wore when he was happy. 

“Ladies and gents, you are going to San Francisco where there have been three very strange murders, I direct your attention to the photos,” Garcia pointed to the screen. 

She wasn’t lying, the murders were extremely strange. One crime scene appeared to be in a tunnel with a male and female victim. The other crime scene was a medieval execution, a woman hanged using a classic noose. Suicide was ruled out given that her hands and feet were bound and her apartment showed signs of a struggle. All of the victims were in fancy medieval clothing, corsets and all.  

“The only thing connecting all of these kills is the elaborate costumes. Clearly our unsub has a flair for the dramatic. He wants these bodies to be found.” Spencer looked over at me as I cleared my throat. 

“There’s something familiar about these murders, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Looking at the photos, something was ringing in my head but I couldn’t figure out what it was. “Probably the work of a single unsub, the medieval wardrobes practically screams individuality.”

“What I’m worried about is the rate of kills. Two victims in three days is almost a nonexistent cooling off period.” Hotch stood up and scanned the room. “Wheels up in 20. Reid, come see me for a moment.”

Spencer shot me a glance and followed Hotch into his office. 

“That can’t be good.” I muttered to JJ, and she nodded inn agreement.  

__

“So he stabbed the female victim at the first crime scene, and poisoned the male. Those are two completely different MOs.” Everyone was still puzzled at the crime scenes on the plane. Morgan had almost an angry look on his face. “And he hangs the single female? It doesn’t make sense.”

I shook my head. “I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen this before.’

Prentiss raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think any of us have seen anything like this before.”

Spencer was sitting in the window seat next to me, surprisingly not saying anything. At the back of my mind I wanted to ask him about what Hotch called him in for. 

“I never thought I would get to kiss you again,” Spencer whispered gently. His arm around my shoulders on his couch felt so much like home I forgot that we were also coworkers. 

“Well, you did, so it’s okay,” I smiled up at him and turned back to the TV. In these few short weeks of being a couple again of sorts, my mental health has improved more than in the last six months. Someone would touch me and I wouldn’t flinch anymore, and the nightmares of that damn basement lessened. 

Everything was so easy with Spencer. There was still the same connection of kindred spirits we’ve had since college, and we would talk about the most random, nerdy subjects.

Damn, he made me happy. So, so happy. 

“Everything good?” I murmured to Spencer on the plane. 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Spencer gave me a reassuring side smile as Hotch began giving assignments. 

“Prentiss, Morgan go to the latest dump site. Look through it in the killer’s eyes. YLN, Reid, go to the station and interview families. Rossi and I will go to the ME. JJ, take care of the press.”

I suddenly got it. Hotch was putting Spencer in to babysit me. That’s what they were talking about. I gave Spencer a look, and he glanced away awkwardly. 

__

“So the first two victims were Rosie Greenlin and Tom Janney, they were both in their early twenties, dating, college students.” I shook my head as I walked up to Spencer. “Parents don’t know anything except that Rosie and Tom were in love, clear as day.”

Spencer sighed as he scanned the crime scene photos. “Betty Wright came from a wealthy family, and her parents say she’s always been very outspoken but kind.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Rosie and Tom both came from wealthy families as well. Could he be targeting the rich?” 

Spencer shrugged, out of ideas for now.

“Hey, did Hotch pull you aside so he could tell you to babysit me?” One look on Spencer’s face told me yes. “He’s afraid I’ll go rogue again.”

Spencer looked guilty and spoke slowly. “He’s just making sure that you don’t…”

I raised my eyebrows when Spencer trailed off. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’m not mad, I just wanted to know, that’s all.”

A police officer came into the room as I finished speaking. “There’s another one. Dylan Walker, stabbed then submerged in liquid. But here’s the weird part, he was submerged in a barrel of wine.”

Spencer pulled out his phone. “We need to get everyone here. We’re not going to catch this guy by splitting up.”

__

After everyone got back to the station, we ordered food and threw out ideas. 

“It’s probably this guy’s first time killing, could the varied MO just mean he’s seeing what he likes?” Morgan had the same puzzled expression from earlier, as did most of the team. “Betty Wright was found hanging from a tree on an isolated hill and the coroner said she’d only been there about an hour.”

Spencer shifted in his seat and moved his hands. “The dump sites seem to be crucial to his fantasy, but we just don’t know why.”

I hadn’t said anything since the team got back. “Oh my god,” I whispered, looking at the crime scene photos. “A malmsey butt… a public execution… two deaths in a tunnel…”

The team just stared at me. “What is it, YFN?” Spencer asked. 

I tapped him on the arm, completely astounded that I figured it out. “Remember when we went to see King Lear in college?”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Cordelia was executed by hanging.”

I nodded at him, standing up and looking at the team. “She was executed because she valued love over property, so her father killed her. Betty Wright was known to be very outspoken. Clarence in Richard III was stabbed then submerged in a malmsey butt, or a barrel of wine. Romeo and Juliet both died in an underground tomb, Romeo poisoned himself and Juliet stabbed herself. Rosie and Tom died in a sewage drain underground in the exact same ways.”

“He’s recreating the written deaths of Shakespeare,” JJ concluded. 

“The medieval clothing ties all of it together, the costumes he puts his victims in were common among royalty in Shakespeare’s time.” I looked to Hotch, who wore a microscopic smile on his face. Good job, he seemed to say. 

__

The unsub was Devin McCoy, a former Shakespeare director who lost his job two weeks ago for assaulting one of his actors. Hotch insisted that I stay at the station while they made the arrest, and I grudgingly obliged. Devin came with little resistance, saying that he was creating the art that his actors couldn’t. The whole thing looked like a bad movie when they dragged him into the station. 

Hotch pulled me aside as we were packing up. 

“YLN, I have to say that you did a fantastic job in this case. You saw something in the murders that no one else did, and we would’ve been here a lot longer without you.” I fought the urge to happy cry. Hotch has never complimented me like that. 

“Thank you Hotch. Does that mean Spencer doesn’t have to babysit me anymore?” I asked hopefully. “I have the green light again?”

Hotch gave me a rare smile. “Yes, you have the green light again.”

__

The plane ride was quiet. We took off at midnight, and with the five hour flight, we were all dreading the next day at work. 

I was sitting next to Spencer, who was reading Romeo and Juliet. “How can you read that after the case we just had?”

He looked up and shrugged. “Last time I read this play was in Spanish, so I figured I would read the original English instead.”

I gave him big doe eyes and made a pitched tone. “Oh, Spencer! Spencer! Wherefore art thou Spencer?”

He chuckled and turned away from me. Across the plane, I saw JJ and Prentiss laughing to themselves, most likely at our dorkiness. I smiled and winked at them. 

“I know JJ and Prentiss are watching, otherwise I would kiss you.” Spencer whispered to me, still looking down at his book. 

“Who cares about JJ and Prentiss?” 

His eyes shot up to mine, trying to see if I was joking or not. I gave a devilish smirk, and he laced his hand in my hair. 

Spencer kissed me sweetly, and we pulled away when we heard the applause of everyone on the plane.

“Finally!” Rossi exclaimed. “I’ve been pretending to sleep for 45 minutes!”

@itsarayofsunshine @thesailbells  @squirrellover1967  @softpeteparker @parkeroffline

[lilith-of-rivia]

My Queen

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt X Reader

Word Count: 3,727

Warnings: Angst, death, swearing

Summary: After Y/N’s paarents are killed unexpectedly, she is forced to become the Queen of her country. During her sorrow an old friend come to her cornitation, Geralt of Riva. She hires him to avenge her parents.

[This one is honestly a bit sad, because the reader goes threw so much in such a short amount of time. I really hope you enjoy this. And thank you to everyone who has liked/reblogged my last story. It truly means the world to me.]

Luthia Empire

~ 2 months ago~

“Y/N! I know today is going to be one of the hardest days, but you must do this. If not for people. Do it for your parents. Luthia needs you princess Y/N.” It was Persilla, the princess’s best friend.

“My parents haven’t even been in the ground for 48 hours and everyone not only wants me to become the queen but also start searching for a king. I am barely 20 years old.” Y/N’s voice was harsh and ragged her throat hoarse from crying for 2days straight. Her eyes were red and puffy.

Her mother would kiss her nose while wrapping her hair up into its protective bonnet to hold her curls into place while she dressed. Her mother would put a cooling blue oil that she never shared the recipe for, and rub it on her daughter’s under eyes, the cold allowing her swelling to go down….but not this time. Queen and King Rudhal had died but three days prior. They were in a caravan on their way to a far-out town in their empire. Two Alghouls; mates, ambushed the caravan. No one was found alive. After three days of hearing nothing on either side of the kingdom, the palace sent out scouts, who returned and delivered the heart-wrenching news to Princess y/n. Now not even two days later she was being prepared for her coronation.

The door to the princess’s room opened slowly, Persilla walking to her friend, her hands going to y/n’s shoulders. She squeezed them reassuringly, kissing her friend's [hair color] hair.

“I’m so sorry y/n...this isn't fair I know that but the royal court needs a Queen. You won't be doing this alone. One of Aretuza’s finest will be at your aid.” She whispered as her friend stared at the wall across from her bed.

“I’m already here.” Y/N knew the voice. It belonged to Tissaia de Vries. The woman who also advised her parents for many years, when she was a babe.

Y/N sat up in her bed wiping her eyes looking at the woman she saw as another mother. Tissaia’s eyes were red from crying as she took in the news of the loss of the king and queen. Tissaia sat down on the other side of y/n and helped wipe her eyes.

“We are going to turn you into the queen that you are. And tonight at the coronation feast, if you wish you may drown your sorrows in ale. As for your duties, do not begin until tomorrow.” As Tissaia spoke she led the Princess to her vanity, looking at her in the mirror.

While Persilla went to get her gown, the new one her mother was giving her for her betrothal. The gown was a lovely blue and plum. It had hand-stitched and beaded flowers all over it. And long sleeves made out of a light vale like material. Y/N couldn't help but cry as she saw the gown, the one her mother knew she’d love. Tissaia quickly wiped her tears before handing her a cup full of a blue liquid.

“Drink, it’ll calm your nerves and help you feel better. You won't have to worry about crying for the rest of the night.” Y/N looked at the liquid and quickly drank it. Tissaia was right, she no longer felt sad, but she didn't feel happy. She just felt content with not being okay.

After about two hours, the princess was dressed in her makeup and hair done. Tissaia took her tiara and placed it on her softly curled hair that rested gracefully on her shoulders. Her eyes; the same color as her father’s, bright blue, nearly gray if the time of day was right, no longer red.

Tissaia and Y/N sat at the top of the long stairwell. Y/N could hear the bustling grand hall, full of her people. And some lords and their suitors to witness the coronation. Tissaia’s hand was holding the princess’s. The princess had a small fake smile on her face but no one would ever know it was fake.

“Are you ready my dear?” Tissaia asked. Y/N squeezed her hand softly and nodded.

“No, but let's do it.” Tissaia nodded to the announcer and the curtains opened.

“Now introducing Princess Y/N!!!” The crowd erupted in applause, everyone on their feet as Tissaia walked the princess to her place next to a minister.

“Y/N Rudhal, do you promise to do everything for our people and only for the people. So help you, god? Do you promise to always be there for the sick, injured, or people in need? Just as the king and queen did before you?” Y/N was now turned to face the subjects before her, her eyes roamed the room seeing many familiar faces, people she had known her entire life.

Her eyes landed on a tall man standing near the back of the room, in a dark blue and green suit. His hair was a striking silver and white. It was tied back, half up. His eyes met with the princess. Her blue eyes staring into his golden ones as she cleared her throat.

“AS your queen I assure you that I will do everything in my power to protect my people. To make it known that we are none to be taken advantage of. As your queen, I will do everything in my power to be just as loving and caring for my people like my mother and father. I will make the tough decisions for you and only you. I will serve you, my people.” Her voice was steady, assertive. Her mother would have been proud of her. Her posture is perfect, her voice trained and warming like a Queen should have. The crowd erupted in cheers and claps. Some people cried as they watched the little princess become a woman.

Y/N turned to the minister as he spoke a prayer in their native tongue and then her mother's diamond crown was placed on her head. The announcer took place at the base of the steps again.

“Now presenting Your Royal Highness Y/N Rudhal!!” Once again the crowd erupted in cheers. But Y/N was not as happy as she thought she'd be on this day.

The party had now been going on for nearly 3 hours and had no intention of stopping anytime soon. The Queen had downed a tanker of sweet apple ale every hour, Tissaia was sat by her side, her hand in the Queen’s. Many lords and knights had come to pass their condolences onto the Queen, in hopes for a dance. But the Queen hadn’t left her perch.

Y/N’s eyes were fixated on her now empty tanker when the man she had locked eyes with approached the royal table. The men around her became stiff and tense. Their hands were closer to their sheathed swords. Y/N looked up and met those golden orbs again. The man bowed his head gracefully, the Bard next to him doing the same. This man was no stranger to the Queen, in fact, her father always spoke of the mighty wither. And how sometimes he wished out kind one had more monsters because “I’d love to hire out the best. Help support the hunter in his endeavors.” He had passed through her kingdom many times, sometimes coming to the royal dinners with his bard when her mother hired the man to sing.

“My condolences, your Highness.” His voice was tough, stoic. But Y/N could feel the sorrow for her in his voice.

Taking a long drink from her now refilled tanker the queen dabbed her lips with her napkin, before standing, for the first time that night. She bowed her head to them both, walking (stumbling every now and again) around the table and in front of the two men who again, bowed their heads. The Witcher reached for her hand and gracefully brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of her palm. Her face went red but she tried her best to ignore it. The men who protected her now moved closer to her. She placed her hand up to the guards and looked at them, annoyance clearly ached on her face.

“My nights, please, for the love of God let me be. You have done none of this to any of the other men who have approached me tonight. When in fact many other men have been known to be more violence against women.” The guards looked down and stepped back again knowing she was right. Her eyes went back to the Witcher, who was smirking softly. A small thin smile crept its way to her lips. The first real smile she had shared that night. Her eyes went to the bard and she smiled at him.

“Would you mind playing some of your music for this grand party? The bards that are here are quite boring. I wouldn’t mind hearing the songs of your endeavors with the white wolf.” The bard smiled brightly at her, bowing his head.

“It would be my honor, your Highness.” He took off towards the men who had instruments and started playing.

“Walk with me.” The queen began walking away from the witcher, not being far behind her. She walked through the crowd of smiling drunk people till she got to the balcony entry. The guards pulled the doors open and the two went through them.

The deep sigh that left the queen's lip was that of pure sorrow. Her walls are now coming down, being away from her people. The cool night's air crisp on her cheeks. The tonic Tissaia gave her had worn off many hours ago. The tears began to stream down her silky soft skin. Her hands were on the cool railing as she looked over her kingdom. Lit up and parties all over in honor of her coronation.

“My parents have been dead less than a week, barely in the ground for 48 hours, yet here everyone is. Partying, getting drunk.” Her voice was shaking and cracking as she spoke. The witcher was now by her side, his hands behind his back as he looked over the kingdom with her.

This wasn’t the first time they had met. The man had been her escape from the royal household for many years. Training her in sword fighting, hand to hand combat and healing. Her mother was never fond of the idea but she never said anything. Letting her daughter release steam a few times a year with The Witcher. The young queen would be lying if she said she didn't feel something for the man. But she was one of hundreds.

“I’m sorry, your Highness.” He barely spoke, she knew that. Unless it was to educate the girl on how her feet were not properly placed, or how she needed to tuck her elbow more.

She turned to him, her face wet with tears and eyes red again.

“You have to kill them, Geralt.” She went to wipe her nose with the back of her sleeve when he caught her hand, placing a white handkerchief in her hand. She laughed softly, knowing how her mother always trained her to never wipe her face on her sleeve. She always trained her to not cry when in the presence of others. She had failed already.

“Kill what your-“

“Y/N. You know my name. You’ve used it. Or even that stupid nickname you always had.” Geralt chuckled softly leaning on the railing as he watched the crying queen.

“Spoiled little princess.” They both said the nickname at the same time. Causing that small smile to spread on the queen's lips again.

“I don't think that nickname is fitting anymore, my queen.” His voice was smooth. She was happy being with him. There was no pity in his face, he didn’t look at her like some broken toy like everyone else had been. He looked at her the same he always had.

“You have to find those blasted Alghouls and bring me their heads. I will pay whatever it is you desire. However much. If you fancy a new house, a new sword, a horse, all of the above. Whatever your price. I will pay.” She brought the handkerchief up to her eyes dabbing the tears away again as she spoke. Her eyes on the witcher. He stood tall again, placing his hand on her arm.

“Coin is fine, my queen. I will find them. But It May take a while. They are the hardest to hunt, especially at this time of year. Winter is approaching.” His thumb rubbed soothing circles on her arm as she closed her eyes. Wanting nothing more than to cuddle into his strong chest.

“Do you remember when my father would tell you he wished we had more monsters because he wanted to support the mighty hunter?” Y/N asked laughing softly.

“How ironic. Now the only time my blood has hired a witcher is to find the monster who killed more than half of my family.” Her voice broke again. This time the witcher didn't watch as she cried. He placed his hand on her lower back and pulled her into his broad chest. Holding her close. His other hand stroking her hair softly. Her sobs were muffled into his chest. Her body shaking.

“What am I going to do?” He didn't respond. He just let her cry. He held her. The only person who didn't try to wash away her pain or make her pretend to be okay. He just held her while she cried.

After a while the queen pulled back and wiped her face again, laughing softly. Her fingers softly touched the soft fabric on top of the Witcher’s chest. The blue shirt was covered in dark tear spots.

“Sorry about that.” He laughed softly. Looking down at the shirt. His hands now came up as he coupled her face in his hands. His golden eyes looked deep into hers.

“I will find them. And I will bring their heads on posts to you. I will avenge your family.” His thumbs stroked her cheeks as she sighed leaning into his hands. A weight was lifted from her shoulder. For the first time since her parents died, she had finally been able to cry until she couldn't. And wasn't shushed or told to hide it.

There was a soft knock on the door, Y/N’s head turned as she looked to her door to the grand hall. Tissaia was standing at the door.

“The coronation dance of Luthia is about to begin. Your people cannot start dancing until their queen does.” She spoke softly. Looking at the queen who was in the arms of a Witcher. Y/N looked at the witcher.

“Care to dance, White wolf?” Geralt nodded, and they turned.

She hooked her arm in his as he led her inside the grand hall, into the crowd of men and women as the song started to play. They bowed to one another. His hand went to her hip, while the other took her hand. They stared at each other, eye to eye as their feet worked in rhythm to the song, the movements flowing for both of them. Geralt led the queen along the dance floor, her dress flowing gracefully. Her crown catching the light of the moon, sending sparkles all over the hall. Soon her subjects followed everyone dancing in rhythm.

The night had come to an end. The Queen bid farewell to her people and thanked them for their condolences and prayers before she turned to head to her room. The witcher leading her. He hadn’t left her side all night. She needed someone who wasn't going to pretend she was okay. He knew she wasn't. He cut her off when she hit her 5th tanker of ale. And was there to wipe her single tear many times.

They rounded into her wing of the castle and stood outside her chamber doors. Y/N was a bit drunk, leaning onto the man for support. His hand wrapped tightly around her waist keeping her upright.

“Come love lets get you in bed.” It was Persilla. She was next to Y/N. She smiled softly at Geralt as thanks for being there. Y/N turned and looked at Geralt.

“Will I see you soon?” She asked, threw hiccups. Geralt chuckled, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. His lips pressed to her forehead softly.

“You will see me soon, My Queen. Send for me if you need me before I return. I will be as fast as possible.” With the soft gesture of love (even if Geralt wouldn't admit that’s what it was) he left the Queen. Her face burning red.

~Present~

“Please my queen, we have no crops. The Griffin has prohibited the ability to get water to our crops. We need it gone. Many of us haven't eaten in days.” The man from one of the lower eastern cities had come to beg for Queen Y/N’s help. A Griffin had been causing terror to the people of the small town and caused them to halt production on crops.

“The White Wolf should return soon, when he does. I will pay him to take care of the Griffin. Until then,” The Queen motioned for one of the members of the royal court to come over.

“Send a group of soldiers with this man back to his town, help move his people out and into the royal gates till they can go back to living without fear. Give them food and water and shelter.” The man's face beamed at the Queen's words. He dropped to his knee in front of her, his hands together.

“Oh thank you, my Queen, thank you.” She smiled and helped the man stand as he walked out with the member of the court. Tissaia was watching from the side, a proud smile on her face.

It had only been two months since her coronation, but the young queen was doing better than anyone had ever expected. She grieved her parents that night but then put her people first. She had done exceptionally well. Even so much so, finding her a king was no longer a top priority.

“My Queen!” One of her guards ran into the throne room slightly out of breath as he pointed to where he came from.

“The Wolf, he's back.”

The queen wasted no time in running out of her throne room, her guards on her heels. She burst through the door to the courtyard. There in front of her was, in fact, the White Wolf, and Jaskier his Bard. In his hand were the heads of the two Alghouls she had hired to kill. Her hands clasped over her mouth. The witcher placed the heads by her feet and bowed to her as did Jaskier.

“Your parents have been avenged, my Queen.” The queen lost all her training at that moment. She leaped into the man's arms. Her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she hugged him as tight as she could. Her eyes burned with tears. Geralt’s hands wrapped tightly around her waist as he held her to him. Embracing her in every way he could.

She pulled away from him only enough to look at him. She whipped her eyes before turning Tissaia who handed her a sack of coins.

“There are three thousand orins in here” She plopped the bag of coins into Geralt's free hand, his other hand on her waist. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as Jaskier choked on his spit.

“My Queen I cannot take that much for the job.” Y/N placed her finger on his lips silencing him.

“You avenged my parents for me. Take the coin.” She was beaming at him. He placed the sack of money onto his belt and hugged her again.

“That smile suites you, my Queen.” He whispered into her ear as they embraced.

“I have another job for you, Geralt if you'll take it.” She said as she pulled away, and they began walking into her caste. Her hand on his arm as they walked.

“Hmmm. Already?” He chuckled softly.

“Yes, a Griffin. Terrorizing some of my people in the lower eastern corner of my kingdom. They will be moved here, for the time being, so they are safe. No rush. Take your time from the long hunt. But if you choose to stay here, you will always be paid well.” She was looking at him as they walked to the same balcony they had been on not two months before. His hand now rested on the small of her back.

“I don't mean to be crude, your highness, but the monsters are not why I will be staying.” His words made her blush as they looked over the frost-covered Kingdom.

“You are a very forward individual Geralt of Rivia.” Y/N said with a small laugh as she turned to face him. His hand came up to cup her face.

“I came back to not collect the coin you promised, but to make sure you were okay.” She leaned into his warm hand.

“I’m doing better than I thought I would. Every Queen needs a hunter, a smith, and the protector of her people. I am choosing you Geralt. If you take my offer you have a place to sleep here. You will always be fed, have the best weap-“ Before she could finish her thought, his soft warm lips had been placed on hers, silencing her rambling. Her hands went to his neck as she kissed the man back. They stayed there, engulfed in each other’s kiss for a while before Geralt pulled away. Stroking her lips with his thumb.

“You are the reason I am here my Queen, as long as you are here I do not need another reason.” She beamed at him, kissing him again.

“Then so be it, you are now the Witcher of the Luthia Kingdom.” He pressed his lips back to hers again, her hands now deep in his white hair.

“As you wish, my Queen.”

[thecassadilla]

Fix You Up

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 3,375/AO3

Summary: Winding up in the emergency room isn't fun, but it's certainly a bit easier to endure when there's a beautiful doctor taking care of you.

Author’s Note: This is called “I’ve been re-watching way too much Grey’s Anatomy and I decided to write a completely self-indulgent/kind of ethically wrong but it doesn’t really matter because it’s fiction” fic based off of it. I’m not a doctor/nurse/medical professional of any type so I apologize if I got something wrong. Enjoy!!!

The last thing that Kristoff Bjorgman needed was to wind up in the emergency room. He hadn’t intended for the knife to slip and slice his finger open. But going to the hospital, getting through triage, and waiting in a white, sterile room to see a doctor made him re-evaluate his initial thoughts.

The last thing he actually needed was a pretty, perky, red-headed doctor taking care of him. And yet, it was happening whether he liked it or not.

“Hi, Mr. B - ooh,” she laughed as she walked into his room, attempting to read his last name off of his chart. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just that they teach you how to pronounce words like ‘choledocholithiasis’ in medical school but they don’t teach us how to pronounce our patients’ last names.”

“Oh, it’s -”

“No, I think I got it. Bjorgman?” she raised an eyebrow. 

“Yup, that’s it,” he nodded, pursing his lips. She seemed way too young to be a doctor; her hair was tied up in a high ponytail that bounced when she moved, and combined with the scrubs and white coat she was wearing, she looked like she was supposed to be trick-or-treating instead of practicing medicine. 

“Alright, Mr. Bjorgman, I’m Dr. Anna Andersen. What brings you in today?” She walked over to the sink and began to vigorously wash her hands.

“Apparently, I need stitches.”

She turned off the water and dried her hands with a paper towel before walking over to his side. She glanced down at his outstretched hand, inspecting the laceration for a few seconds. “I would say that I agree with your diagnosis. You definitely need a few stitches.”

“Fantastic,” he groaned.

“I’m sorry, I know this probably isn’t fun,” she frowned, grabbing a pair of gloves from the dispenser and snapping them on. “But we’ll try to get you out of here as quickly as possible.”

“I appreciate that.”

She sat down on the chair and rolled over to the side of his bed, inspecting his wound more closely. “How did this happen?”

He hesitated, and contemplated lying to her; maybe because he was certain that she’d laugh at him or think he was stupid for cutting himself open while chopping vegetables. He decided to tell the truth anyway. “I was cooking and the knife slipped.”

“Okay, do you mind if I -?” She motioned to his finger, a sense of relief washing over him; there was not a laugh or even a lip twitch in sight. 

“Go ahead.”

She gently placed her fingers on the area surrounding the cut. “Does this hurt at all?”

“Just a little,” he grimaced.

“I’m sorry,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “But you can feel my fingers, yes?”

“I can.”

“Good.” She rotated his hand, surveying the damage from all angles. “Are you able to bend your finger?”

He demonstrated for her, despite the fact that it hurt every time he moved it.

“And how long ago did this happen?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think how long it had taken him to stop the bleeding and get in the car and fill out all the paperwork. “Like, two hours ago.”

“Okay, and are you allergic to any medications or anesthetics?”

“No,” he sighed.

“Sorry for all the questions, it’s procedure. Are you currently taking any medications?”

He shook his head.

“Alright, last one. Do you remember how long ago you had your last tetanus shot?”

“I don’t.”

She gently placed his hand back on the tray, then stood up, pulled the gloves off, and threw them in the trash. “Well, the good news is that the edges aren’t jagged and this should heal very nicely with a few stitches. The bad news is that you won’t be able to bend your finger for a few days.”

“Great.”

“Now, I’ll be right back, I’m just going to get the stuff I need to fix your finger and a tetanus booster and then we’ll get you out of here.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” he said in a low voice.

She smiled before ducking out of the room. Though he had yet to see her put her actual skills to the test, he was impressed by her bedside manner; she was actually quite adorable. Perhaps he had judged her too quickly. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said when she returned a few minutes later, setting down the materials she’d need on the tray next to his hand. “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She walked over to the sink and washed her hands again before putting on another pair of clean gloves. She sat back down in the chair next to his bed and scooted in as close as she could.

“Now, before I start stitching you up, I’m going to give you a local anesthetic so you won’t feel any pain,” she explained, as she pulled a syringe from a plastic package. “Speaking from experience, this will sting a bit.”

“Experience?” he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows together. “Like from your personal experience or what other people have told you?”

She filled it up with liquid from a tiny clear vial. “Both.”

“Do you warn all of your patients that it will hurt?”

“Only the ones I like,” she winked. “I’ll have to poke you a few times, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, and she began to anesthetize the area. She poked him once, and then again, and again. He gritted his teeth.

“Almost done, you’re doing great,” she said, noticing his discomfort. She poked him one last time. “Okay, the worst is over.”

She stood up and deposited the needle in the sharp materials box next to the bed before taking her seat once again. “In just a few minutes, you’ll be numb and I can start.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said that would sting,” he remarked.

“I also wasn’t kidding when I said I only warn the patients that I like,” she grinned. She had such a beautiful smile. “A lot of people come in here and try to undermine my medical experience. I don’t warn people who think they know it all.”

He immediately felt guilty for thinking she looked more prepared for Halloween than for being a doctor. “No offense, but you do look very young.”

“Because I am young. I’m twenty-six,” she confessed with a shrug.

“They let you be a doctor that young? Not just you, but people in general.”

“Oh, yeah,” she laughed. “Medical school is only four years, and you’re officially a doctor when you graduate. Then you do a residency, which is what I’m doing right now, and that can be up to seven years. I’m still in my first year.”

“I didn’t know that,” he said. “That’s a lot of learning.”

“They don’t really advertise how many years of training you have to go through,” she said, tapping on his finger. “Can you feel that?”

“No.”

“Wonderful, now it’s time to party,” she announced. “First, I’m going to clean your wound with some saline solution.”

Though his finger was numbed, he could feel the sensation of the liquid trickling down his palm. 

“And now, I’m going to put some antibacterial liquid on your skin,” she explained, doing so as she spoke. “And I have to drape it with a sheet before I suture it…”

She unpacked the blue paper from it’s plastic package, and unfolded it. Conveniently, there was a hole right in the center. 

“Here,��� she said, holding it up. “Slip your finger right through here, and...perfect!!”

“Do you always narrate what you’re doing for your patients?” he asked in a sincere tone. It was a genuine question.

“Yeah, it usually makes them feel better, but we can talk about something else if you want. Or, if you’d prefer me to be quiet, I can do that, too.”

In any other situation, he would have preferred the quiet, but she had a very appealing voice. “No, you can keep talking.”

“Good, I like talking,” she remarked with a smirk. She was now holding what looked like a pair of scissors in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other. “You ready?”

“Yup.”

She leaned over his hand, which obstructed his view. “So you may feel the needle going in and out, but it shouldn’t hurt. There, did you feel that?”

“No, not at all.”

“Good,” she said. “So, what do you do for work?”

“I’m an engineer,” he answered, shortly. He didn’t want to bore her with the details. 

“Is that a job where you use your hands a lot?”

“Yeah, it is.”

She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him, her bright, blue eyes nearly boring a hole into his own. “You’re either going to have to take a few days off from work or do something that doesn’t involve your hands, okay? Doctors’ orders. You shouldn’t bend your finger or do any heavy lifting until the stitches come out because you don’t want to accidentally rip it open.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “Fine.”

She turned away again and resumed what she was doing. “Did you drive yourself here or did someone give you a ride?”

“I drove myself.”

“Now, I don’t advocate for reckless driving and I would strongly recommend that you call someone to pick you up. You won’t be able to bend your finger around the wheel.”

“I don’t really have anyone that I can call, but I’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that.”

Though he couldn’t see what she was doing, he could see the concentration on her face. She was so close that he could practically count the freckles that were scattered across her nose and cheeks. “So, uh, why did you become a doctor?”

She chuckled. “That’s a bit of a loaded question, but it’s practically a family business. My parents were doctors, my sister’s a doctor. I’m just following in their footsteps.”

“That’s cool that you can say that you all have the same career.”

“I suppose,” she said, her voice twinged with uncertainty. He wasn’t sure how to interpret her tone, but before he could even think about asking what she meant, she placed her tools down on the tray. “And just like that, you’re all stitched up.”

“That was fast,” he remarked as she removed the drape from around his finger. He was able to see it for the first time and counted six tiny knots.

“It isn’t really a time-consuming process,” she shrugged. 

“Well, you did a really good job.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “Now, I’m going to put some antibiotic ointment on it and then wrap it in gauze. You’ll have to keep it clean and dry for the first twenty-four hours. I’ll print you out some more detailed care instructions, but I’m going to recommend that you come back here in ten days to have them removed.”

“Gotcha.”

“Also, don’t rub any alcohol or hydrogen peroxide on it. And if you see any signs of infection - swelling, pus, increase in pain - you can come back or you can make an appointment with your primary care physician.”

“Understood.”

“I just have to give you the tetanus booster and then I’ll get your discharge papers. Sound good?”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

She prepared the vaccine, then stood up and ripped open an alcohol pad. She lifted up the sleeve of his shirt and cleaned off a small area. “This shouldn’t hurt at all,” she said, before injecting the liquid into his body. Seconds later, she was pulling it out, covering the tiny wound with a bandage, and dropping the needle into the sharps container.

“That was a walk in the park compared to the other one,” he chuckled.

“Easy peasy,” she smiled, gathering up all of the items that needed to be discarded. She walked over the garbage, and tossed it away before removing her gloves. “You stay put, okay?”

“Okay,” he answered, inspecting his finger as soon as she left the room. There wasn’t much to see, since the wound was covered by gauze.

“Alright, so this is a bag of stuff to take care of your finger - a few single-use packets of ointment, some gauze, and some tape. You’ll have to stop by a drug store to get enough ointment to last you for the entire ten days, though.” She handed him the small plastic bag.

He nodded. “Alright.”

She shuffled through the papers before handing him on. “Those are the wound care instructions. Please try to follow them as best as you can. When it’s time for the stitches to come out, you can come back here or go to your regular healthcare provider, it’s up to you. And last but not least, these are your discharge papers. We just need you to sign this page and then you’re a free man.”

She placed the papers and a pen on the tray and pushed it closer to him. He signed them without hesitating and she took them back once he was finished.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, I think you covered everything.”

She smiled. “Alright, then you’re free to go. Take care of yourself, Mr. Bjorgman.”

“Kristoff,” he corrected, holding out his hand for her.

She accepted, and shook it, keeping her eyes locked on his and allowing her fingers to linger for just a second when she pulled her hand back. “Be well, okay?”

Though he was free from the confines of the hospital, he felt almost as if he’d left a piece of himself there. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, for some reason. Not on the drive home, not when he was cleaning up the massacre in his kitchen, and not when he finally crawled into his bed that night but found himself unable to sleep. She was a beautiful, compassionate doctor and he was the idiot who showed up in her emergency room with a gaping hole in his finger. Remnants of their conversation played over and over again in his head, and though he didn’t know her at all, he found himself creating scenarios in his head where they would have the opportunity to meet again. He kept having to remind himself that she was only being so nice because she was a doctor.

As luck would have it, he would find himself back in the emergency room just two days later, for a rather unfortunate reason. Doubled over in pain, he spotted her in the hallway talking to a colleague as he was wheeled toward his room by an orderly. He couldn’t help but notice her eyes following where he was going until he couldn’t see her anymore, and he fervently hoped that she’d be the one to treat him, again.

She walked into his room shortly after, looking quite concerned. “Hey, what are you doing back here? Infection?”

“No,” he breathed. “I’m having really bad abdominal pains.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve been nauseous and I haven’t been able to keep anything down, and I have a fever. And the pain is really bad. Do you think it could be appendicitis?”

“It could be, but they’ll have to run some tests on you to confirm,” she said, shoving her hands into the pocket of her coat.

“Are you the only doctor that works here?”

“It feels like that sometimes,” she remarked. “But I’m not your doctor today.”

His face fell. “You’re not?”

She shook her head. “I just saw you from the hallway and I wanted to see what was going on, make sure that you were okay.”

“I wish I could say that I was making this up just so I could see you again.”

“You know, you’re really handsome and I like looking at you, but I’d prefer if we didn’t keep meeting like this.”

Feeling bold, he decided to press on. “What if we met somewhere else? Like a grocery store or a bar?”

She cocked her head, a smirk plastered across her face. “It would be a miracle because I don’t have a social life and I survive on takeout. I can't say I wouldn't like that, though.”

He laughed, but it only caused his pain to intensify and thus, remind him of the seriousness of the situation. He exhaled a few times through his mouth before speaking again. “What will happen if it is appendicitis?”

She sighed. “You’ll have to have surgery.”

“Oh,” he frowned. “When it rains, it pours, huh?”

She gently squeezed his arm. “We’ll take really good care of you.”

His memory got a little foggy after that; he remembered his actual doctor coming in, the nurse putting in an I.V., someone coming in and drawing his blood, and an ultrasound machine being wheeled into his room. He concluded that they must’ve given him some painkillers after that, because the next thing he remembered was waking up after surgery, the doctor telling him that it went well, and then promptly falling back to sleep. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he finally woke up.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” a soft voice asked. Suddenly, Dr. Andersen was by his side; she looked quite concerned and she was wearing normal clothes, not her scrubs or white coat.

He cleared his throat. “I’m okay.”

“Your surgery went really well,” she assured him. “You came in at just the perfect time.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay before I left for the night,” she explained, gently resting her hand on his arm. “Is there anything that I could get for you? Anyone I can call?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a small smile. “Get some rest, alright?”

“Wait,” he called, just as she was about to walk through the door. She obliged, and turned around. “They say lightning never strikes the same place twice. I’ve never been to the emergency room in my entire life, and now I’ve been here twice in three days. That has to be some kind of coincidence, right?”

“Today was my last day on rotation for emergency medicine. I’m moving on to pediatrics.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Because of me?”

“No, not at all,” she assured him. “That’s just how being a first year resident works.”

“I don’t...” he trailed off.

“The reason I brought it up is because you were talking about coincidences,” she said, in a low voice.

Suddenly, it clicked. “That’s a pretty big one, huh?”

She nodded slowly. “I would say so.”

“So what does this mean?”

She walked back over to his bed, sat down on the edge of it, and dropped her bag on the floor. “I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t worried about you all day.”

No use in being anything but honest now. “I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been thinking about you since the other day.”

“I may have been thinking about you, too,” she smirked. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean I can ask you on a date?”

“You may,” she blushed. “But only after you recover from your surgery. Don’t forget that you’re supposed to spend the next couple of weeks recovering.”

“So I won’t be able to take you out for, like, three weeks?”

“Don’t forget that I work eighty hours a week, too,” she laughed. “But I’ll give you my phone number and you can text me as much as you want. I may not be able to answer right away, but I enjoy reading my messages on my breaks.”

“Deal,” he agreed and he recited his number to her, so she could text him and he could save it.

“You really should get some rest now, though,” she insisted, standing up and straightening his blankets. 

“You should really take your own advice.”

“I know, I know,” she rolled her eyes. She picked up her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. “Have a good night, Kristoff.”

“You too...Anna,” he called. She beamed at him and as soon as she was out of sight, he found himself unable to control his own smile.