#but I can’t tell her that either. she knows though

[beloveds-embrace]

Part two of the Lavender Marriage au! Considered adding smut to this but I chickened out lmao if the ending is abrupt it’s because of that 🙂‍↕️

The four men are fuming.

Since witnessing the lip-lock battle, they’ve been stewing in barely-contained anger. Every time they see you- on your porch in one of those sweet sundresses, humming to yourself as you water the flower boxes or hand them freshly-baked cookies- they’re consumed by a burning desire to tell you the “truth” about your cheating husband. But the ring on your finger, and your seemingly cheerful demeanor, stop them every time.

Still, they’re restless. It’s wrong to let you live in ignorance like this. But also, it’s not their business even if they want it- even if they want you. The thought of ruining your cozy life, despite your husband’s unfaithfulness, isn’t an easy one to swallow.

It becomes easier to think of admitting it all to you with each passing day, though.

“He’s walking around like he’s done nothing wrong! The bastard. How does she not see it?” Kyle grumbles, gesturing wildly with his tea mug. He grits his teeth, watching your husband saunter inside the house without offering to help you. He just puts down a plate of steak Kyle knows is too fucking cooked. Heathen. Bastard. Ughhh.

“She’s either blind or loyal to a fault,” Johnny agrees, sprawled out on the couch, looking far more despondent than usual. “Breaks ma bloody heart, lads. She’s makin’ us lemonade an’ cookies, an’ he’s aff canoodlin’ wiith some bloke under her roof.”

Simon grunts, his eyes narrowing as he joins Kyle’s side. “What kind of man cheats on her? She’s…” He trails off, unwilling to finish the sentence, but everyone knows what he means: She’s perfect.

Meanwhile, John leans back in his chair, puffing thoughtfully on a cigar. He’s been unusually quiet, though it’s clear he’s just as agitated, fist clenching on his lap. Finally, he speaks, his tone commanding.

“We wait until he leaves,” he says, much to the others’ dismay. “We don’t meddle now. If she finds out on her own, we’ll be there for her. Until then, we keep our mouths shut.”

The others grumble, but they nod in agreement. For now.

You, meanwhile, are oblivious to the internal warfare raging next door. Your days are filled with your usual routine of pretending to be the dutiful wife, gossiping with the neighborhood ladies, sweetly cooing about your hardworking husband, and pretending you don’t know they will gosspi about you after you leave. On the way, you also deliver a basket of homemade muffins to your handsome neighbors.

Such good men; they didn’t even yet know they were your little kitchen rats to taste-test everything you make for the annual baking contest. This year, that bitch Beatrice will not win and you swore it.

“Oh, these look incredible,” Johnny says when you hand over the basket. He flashes you a cheeky grin, and you can’t help but smile back, cheeks warm. “Y’know, if yer husband does not appreciate all this, I might just have ta steal ye away, lass.”

You laugh, waving off the comment as a joke, but the other three men go rigid. “Not the time, mate.” Kyle mutters, elbowing Johnny, though you really don’t notice. Their house is coming along so nicely and so fast; the perks of having handy men as its owners, you suppose.

Later that day, while you’re trimming the hedges of your precious little garden , you spot Simon working on their roof. You catch him staring at you- not that you blame him, you are wearing your one of cutest skirt and top- and you give him a small wave. He almost falls off the roof even if he does wave back, so you decide to just focus on the damned hedges and hopefully avoid any more incidents.

They’re so distracted by your lovely self that they almost forget their rage toward your husband. Almost. Because just as Price and Johnny are helping you carry bags of groceries back to your house, your husband- traitorous bastard- walks out of the house all patient and whistling.

“Be back soon, honey! You know how long my business trips take.” your husband calls over his shoulder, giving you a quick wink before he hops into a car and drives off.

Unbelievable.

The tension is palpable. John glares. Johnny looks like he’s seconds from sprinting after the car. Simon mutters, “Unbelievable,” under his breath from where he and Kyle are watching from the window.

“Oh dear,” you sigh, though on the inside you are very happy. You know your husband’s boyfriend has a nice surprise picked for him- you helped get it, after all- and now you have the house all to yourself again. Perfect.

You turn to John, batting your lashes up at him and it is as if all his anger melts away. “Be my guests this evening, John? I’d be terribly lonely, all by myself in this big house.”

John really, truly, fucking hates your husband for doing this to a precious, lovely thing like you. But at least it means they’ll be the ones in your company.

“Alright, doll,” he nods, fond as he watches the grin stretch across your face. “Let me just go tell the muppets, then we’ll come by and help.”

“There’s no need-“

“I insist, sweetheart.”

That evening, as promised, the four of them come by to “keep you company” and help. You’re in your element, flitting around the kitchen in an apron as you serve drinks and chatter away, oblivious to the tension radiating from the group. You are practically glowing; your pretty flowers were complimented and the food looks so good you can’t wait to post it on your instagram.

Simon leans against the counter, arms crossed, staring daggers into the walls- into the portraits of you and your husband. Kyle is poking at one of the cookies you made like it’s done something to offend him, his mind adrift. Johnny’s chopping away at vegetables, muttering under his breath and wishing it was something else under his knife. And John? He’s nursing his whiskey like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. It might as well be. You talk so nicely about your husband and what he’s customized for you in the kitchen, still so unaware of the truth.

John contemplates just telling you right then and there, but then it happens.

The front door swings open, and in strolls your husband, laughing loudly with none other than his boyfriend- the one the group saw kissing. They’re holding hands, both grinning like idiots.

“Sorry we’re back so soon!” your husband calls out, completely unbothered by the fact that your house is now hosting four very large, very angry military men. “I forgot my wallet-”

The rest of his sentence dies in his throat when he notices the four men staring at him, expressions ranging from pure disbelief to murderous rage. His boyfriend freezes too, glancing nervously between you and the men like he’s walked into a firing squad.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Johnny practically shouts, pointing between the two men with the knife. “You’ve got the audacity to bring him here? Here?”

Kyle crushes the cookie when he slams his fist on the table, standing abruptly. “Under her roof? After all she’s done for you? Again?”

Simon doesn’t say a word because he truly doesn’t need to- he’s just staring, fists clenched, practically vibrating with barely-contained fury.

John finally speaks, his voice low and dangerous, pulling your surprised self against his side protectively. “You’ve got some confessing to do.”

Your husband just… blinks, then glances at you. “Wait, you didn’t tell them?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I didn’t think it would come up like this.”

“Tell us what?” John demands, his tone sharp. He is still glaring at your husband and the boyfriend

You wave your hand dismissively, like this is the most normal thing in the world with a soft sigh. “Oh, we’re not really married for love, John. It’s just for the benefits- y’know, keeping his parents off his back and mine off mine.”

The room falls silent. Dead silent.

“What?” Simon finally growls, his voice low and dangerous. All this time…

Your husband grins sheepishly, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Yeah, I’m gay. This is my boyfriend. He’s great, isn’t he?” He says, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek.

Johnny looks like he’s just been hit with the frying pan the vegetables he’d been chopping was meant to go in. “Yer what?”

Kyle stares at you, wide-eyed. “You knew? This whole time?”

You shrug, popping a cookie into your mouth. Ohh, Beatrice should count her fucking days. “Of course I knew. We planned the whole thing together. It’s not that complicated, really.”

Simon mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse.

“Anyways, we do have places to be,” your husband sighs. “I’ll just get my wallet and leave you all be to your date.” When he returns with his wallet a few minutes later, he kisses your forehead. “Bye, love. I snuck some of the cookies too- Beatrice is absolutely not winning this year, trust me.” And then he leaves at last.

John exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You’re married but it’s just… out of necessity, and you’ve just been… pretending to love him?”

“Exactly!” you say brightly, clapping your hands together. “See? Not so hard to understand.”

The four men just stand there, utterly gobsmacked.

“You mean to tell me,” Johnny starts, pointing an accusatory finger at you after placing the knife down. “that we’ve been stewin’ for weeks over a cheatin’ husband that doesn’t even exist?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you reply with a giggle, pouring a drink. Your eyes widen then. “But you cannot tell anyone here, in this shitty town, about this!”

“We won’t, love, promise.” Kyle groans, slumping back into his chair. “I need a bloody drink.” And then he perks up when you slide him the drink you just made. “…fucking lifesaver you are, love. Thank you.”

Simon just shakes his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.” under his breath.

John sighs, downing the rest of his whiskey in one go. “You’re going to be the death of us, doll.”

You grin, completely unfazed. “Oh, come on, boys. It’s not that bad.”

The four of them exchange a look- one of disbelief, exasperation, and maybe just a hint of relief. Because as much as they’re reeling from the truth, one thing’s clear: you’re technically single. And that, at least, is something they can work with.

[hemipenal-system]

Human adventurer that has an enchantment that allows them to take cocks that are ten times longer than they are tall, like a sort of pocket dimension, and they frequently invite monsters of all kinds to use their slutty holes.

ooh yeah i really like this one

human adventurer who shows up to a bar with his enchanted wristband, ordering a pint of mead and pouring it back before climbing up onto the bar and announcing that if anyone has a cock he can't take he’ll buy everyone's drinks for the rest of the night

who wouldn’t take that shot? you either get free drinks or a really good fuck. so there’s a pretty significant line

the first contender is a burly minotaur who figured she could break tonight’s bar slut early, everyone can get their drinks nice and quick. she gets herself hard and slaps it on his belly, and it’s thicker than a beer bottle and should be in his lungs if he gets it hilted, but once it gets into him it sinks in basically all the way with ease, and then people really start paying attention because they know the minotaur well and by all rights anyone that size who she’s fucking that hard should be dead from severe internal trauma, but whoever this guy is he’s clearly unaffected

the next challenger to step up, a lizardfolk mercenary, pins him to the bar and pushes basically her entire 9 foot tail into him while riding him like he’s an exercise ball, and he takes the big squirming muscle like a champ. after that, it just becomes a competition to see who can shove the biggest thing into him, and he gets fucked so senselessly on so many cocks and tongues and entire arms that he’s eventually too weak to move, and they just start passing him around

they never do get their drinks. even when he’s half awake, various flavors of cum painting his face and running down his thighs, they never do find anything they can’t work inside him. they aren’t even mad though, since nearly every interested patron in the bar has dumped multiple loads into him at this point. in fact, they tell him to come back whenever he wants

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

I feel like something that should have been explored more in Arcane is that despite the dangers and pretty much horrific conditions, Zaun children seemingly grow up a lot more caring and have a larger understanding of family in comparison to Piltover children. And if such a reflection of the real world in a sense.

The kids of Zaun seemingly grow up with a lot more adult support. Ekko is easily welcomed under Benzo’s wings. Vander adopts 4 kids (two of which we learn he knew of before their parents death, two of which we can’t be sure of). Silco, despite all what happened, and his ulterior motives, shows no problem adopting Powder/Jinx. In the alternate universe it seems as though he’s still played a part in the kids lives. Jinx adopts Isha easily and Sevika cares for her as well. Hell, even Mr. War Crimes Against Humanity does well with little Viktor (until ya know, the animal abuse).

Hell, up until Vander dies (the first time) there seems to be a large understanding of if there’s an orphan or a kid in need of guidance, take them in! (And certainly don’t inform them of your plans to turn a giant pink salamander into drugs and be confused when a nine year old doesn’t understand). If a kid wants to be your apprentice, let them! For the most part, until things all went wrong in the end of act 1 of season 1, the worst parts of Zaun seem pretty typical for any city in poverty.

Match that with what we see with how Caitlyn and Jayce grow up. Caitlyn is given adult support, yes, and it’s clearly a good adult mentor, but it’s not entirely by her choice. It’s been chosen for her. She’s safe, but there’s a lack of freedom of choice. Meanwhile, when Jayce gets older, and that same accident in Act 1 happens, the family that supported him and his mom turns their backs. His own mom doesn’t support him either, because she’s afraid of what he’s talking about, but also because he’s damming them to being outcasts.

Conversely, Vander is more than willing to take the fall for what Claggor, Milo, Vi and Powder did. He’s willing to go to prison for a long time, in order for them to have a better future. Despite Vi’s best efforts, he’s not going to listen to her (she is just a kid) and he’s not letting his family go down and get hurt.

Meanwhile, a man who grew up in this mentality, where there’s a wide sense of family support from people who aren’t your biological family, is the one to go to Jayce, a stranger, and tells him he believes in him. It’s why it’s such a shock to Jayce; his own family and family friends denied him. They didn’t support him.

I think that’s what makes all the difference. Piltover and Zaun have wildly different understandings of family and forgiveness. For Piltover, it shuns and damns the lives of those who upset the balance. For Zaun, it provides safety and never ending understanding.

Just. I’m thinking.

[meelusinee]

A WHIMSICAL DEAL ✩ T.N NOTT X READER

in which theodore meets you at a Slytherin party and can’t get you out of his head

pairing: theodore nott x whimsical!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none!

author’s note: double post day today!!! major note here is that the formatting is just a wee bit different because i will be publishing this from my phone rather than my laptop like i usually do. it died and i left the charger at a friend’s house, but i shall be back up and running to my full aesthetics and work by tomorrow morning! other than that, enjoy!

A WHIMSICAL DEAL | THEODORE NOTT X READER

Theodore hasn’t set up a Slytherin party in almost a month because of exams.

That was something that had to change.

He and Mattheo had snuck into Honeydukes through the Hidden Eye passage, The barrel was hard to lift, but easy to sneak into the dorms under a simple Illusion Charm.

The tables were hidden in a small hole in the wall Lorenzo made, his expertise in bartending coming in handy as he set up a minibar for the party. No free drinks would ever pass under his eye, not unless either him or his friends wanted a good lay-in for the night.

For the most part, it was Slytherins at this party. Either that, or houses that were in the know.

Luna Lovegood was the most recent addition to the Slytherin’s main party squad. Ever since her and Blaise began dating, she started to visit the parties more and more to help set up and clean. While Mattheo and Theo weren’t so sure about it at first, the drink combinations she ended up making had gotten at least 20 more party-goers.

One of them being you.

Theodore had noticed you almost as soon as you entered the Common Room. You had a certain aura about you that he just couldn’t not notice, elegance he had never seen in anyone else he ever met in his life.

He had almost dropped his drink right then and there, quickly regaining his composure as he approached you. Enzo was going to have a field day with him. “Can I get you a drink, lovely?”

“A drink?” you giggled softly, hand resting on your hip. You looked so magical within the Slytherin lighting, something almost ethereal or radiant shining off of you. “I believe that you have Whorpflasters whispering in your ears.”

“Whorpflasters?” Theo asked incredulously, voice coming out more nervous than he intended.

“Yes, Whorpflasters!” you repeated, nodding slowly. “They’re very rude. Usually they whisper insecurities in your mind, especially around settings you’re not particularly comfortable with. Are you okay with being at this part?”

“Uh,” he whispered, a small blush creeping on his face. “Yeah, I’m good here.”

“Perhaps it’s exams.” you nodded, patting his head. “I think that you passed them with flying colors, if the Querbs following you are any tell.”

Theo nodded incredulously at that, watching you smile that whimsical smile before you walked off to get a drink. Enzo had winked at him when he saw you walking over, pointing his head to Blaise and Luna standing over his shoulder.

“Theodore, hello!” Luna said to him. She had whimsy about her too, though it just wasn’t the same as yours. Nothing he could think of seemed to compare to you.

“Hey there Luna.” he nodded, swallowing a bit of his drink before looking back at you.

“Have you met Y/N?” Luna asked, waving to Blaise as he walked off to talk to Mattheo and Draco.

“Uh,” he whispered, staring at you before looking back. “Yeah, yeah I met her. She said that I have Whorpflasters in my ear from exams, and Querbs following me around.”

“Well, do you?” Luna asked, her head leaning back and forth as she seemingly examined him.

“I have no idea what Querbs even are.” Theo whispered, hopelessly looking back at you again. You were standing at the end of the bar waiting for your drink, completely out of place yet fitting in all at the same time.

“They’re spirits attracted to intelligence.” Luna said to him simply, taking a small sip of her drink. “Though it seems that you’re also being visited by their cousins, Uerbs. Rather recently too.”

“The difference being?” Theo asked, looking at Luna incredulously.

“They follow people who have fallen in love.” Luna smiled, raising her glass slightly before walking over to where you were standing at the bar.

Theo was screwed.

“Luna said that you wanted to talk to me.”

Theo turned around as soon as he heard your voice, blinking in confusion when he saw you.

The both of you were currently in the library, Theo standing by one of the windows while he waited for Blaise. Blaise, who was supposedly meant to be meeting him for a small party reconstruction.

He quickly realized that this meeting was not about party reconstruction. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t take advantage of it though.

“Oh,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I wanted to ask you about Querbs.”

“Oh, Querbs!” you said, clasping your hands together. “Yes, they’re creatures from intelligence. They’re said to come from Phoenixes, their ashes are full of life and often produce a spark of it. It’s very miniscule and hard to detect, especially with the increasing levels of Phoenix endangerment.”

“That sounds very dangerous.” Theo agreed, subconsciously pulling a chair out for you before sitting down himself. “Why is that?”

“Well, that’s because of their feathers.” you explained to him. “Poachers love the fire they create, oftentimes a small lint from the feather can be used in extremely dangerous bombs. Two single feathers could blow up half of Hogwarts if the bomb is made correctly.”

“That’s,” he paused. “Really powerful.”

“Very much so.” you nodded. “Querbs come from those small sparks that feather lints leave. Of course, there’s also Uerbs. And then there are Xuerbs, but those are rare.”

He had heard about Uerbs, and quite frankly did not want to approach that topic. “What are Xuerbs?”

“They’re like baby Dementors in a sende.” you hummed. “Like Whorpflasters, but worse.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant,” he said. “Is it?”

“No.” you shook your head. “But, there are much more pleasant creatures out there. Liborati are rather unique, they feel off of herbal plants in a way that is often rather good for them.”

Theo smiled softly as you explained how Liborati helped plants develop magical energy, and eventually went into more details about Querbs. He watched as you pulled out small books and read him passages, clearly very enthusiastic to explain this all to someone.

Theo questioned whether anyone else had ever bothered to listen, though he felt his brain short-circuit the moment your hand met his.

Maybe Uerbs weren’t so bad after all.

Theo and Luna currently were at the linrary together, both of them having been sent on a mission to get snacks for a sick Blaise. Why Theo was invited, he wasn’t sure.

“How are you and Y/N coming along?”

Now he was sure.

“What exactly is meant to be coming along between us?” Theo asked curiously, his hands in his pockets as he walked.

It had only been a week since he met you at the party, but he had already fallen head over heels. It was absolutely impossible to hide from anyone who truly knew him, especially since he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

No matter where he went, he couldn’t not think of you. Drinking, partying, sleeping, or doing schoolwork, you were always there on his mind. Sometimes he’d pretend that he was talking to you in order to keep himself sane, repeating your ramble on Uerbs and Querbs and Whorpflasters in his mind for hours at a time.

Even still, he hadn’t particularly asked you anything. Just about things you liked.

“You have more Uerbs developing by the second whenever you hang out with her, I found an infestation of them near your pillow.” Luna said. “Do you dream of her that often?”

“What is it with you two and being able to read people through creatures?” Theo groaned, looking down at the floor as he spoke. “Me and her are, well, I’m working on it. I can’t see things like you do, so you’re going to have to give me a moment.”

“You are quite lost.” Luna said calmly, her hands moving to open the door to Honeydukes. “I felt you’d want to know she has Uerbs following her around too. They’ve grown quite fond of you.”

Theo sighed softly as he stomped his foot a bit impatiently, hoping that nobody else would walk out of the tower but you.

He was currently standing in front of the doors of the Ravenclaw Tower. Or at least, what would be a door. It was a statue of a bird which obnoxiously asked riddles he didn’t have any time for, so he offered to stand and wait for you.

Though that idea seemed to be wearing off completely. That was until you walked out

“Theo?” you asked, your eyes darting up and down him. He had done his hair just a bit nicer than usual. He was wearing a suit, albeit rather tame, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Along with all of that, he somehow seemed to find a limited edition of the book you had been wanting to read for ages, a signature from the author directly on the cover.

“I want to take you out on a date.” he whispered, holding the objects out to you. There was a large blush covering his face, eyes darting to the floor. “Will you, maybe, go on a date with me?”’

“Theo, I,” you whispered, looking at him incredulously before giggling softly. “Have you noticed my Uerbs too then?”

“I,” he whispered before nodding as he remembered what Luna said. “Yeah, I did.”

“I would love to go out with you.” you smiled, that whimsical smile that he couldn’t seem to get enough of. “Where did you want to go?”

“I made a dinner reservation, about two hours from now.” he whispered, smiling genuinely once you said yes. You had said yes. You had said yes.”

“Let me get ready then. Give me just twenty minutes or so.” you smiled, before turning back around to get ready. Theo chuckled at the sounds of your small yet excited squeals.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

guys. i don’t have. my fancy smancy dividers.

for some reason my phone hates downloading transparent pngs from tumblr and aleays adds a white background, which is absolutely not tolerable at ALL, and managing these lines were also really hard as well for some reason? the images always summon at the bottom so you have to drag them, which wasn’t easy with the size.

but we pulled through guys. GUYS WE DID IT YAYAYAYAYYYY

AS ALWAYS, please like, comment, and reblog! i hope you lovelies had a fantastic day, and i shall write to you some other time. bye guys!

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

NOTE: here we areeee, I was very excited to do this chapter since we can get into what kinda powers (name) has ^^ omg first kisses?!?!? I hope y’all don’t mind the change.

⟣・S2・FINALLY GOT THE NAME RIGHT︰

THE MAN IN FRONT of you sneezes, you handed him one of your extra masks and looked around with curiosity— you knew not to wander off far since caitlyn was focused on finding jinx. Though you knew exactly why she wanted to find her, she was starting to act a little different towards both you and vi— which was…understandable of her since her mother had died but it wasn’t a good change, though.

“Thanks.” The man tells you thankfully. “I thought I was a goner.”

“You’re smeech’s man.” Vi spoke.

“Was.” The man corrects. “I--“ he sneezes again, covering his mouth. “Oh. I decided it was time for me to retire.”

“Looks more like someone decided to retire you.” Caitlyn retorts.

The man chuckles. “Yeah, well, timing was never my strong--“ he sneezes again. “Sorry. Sorry, it’s…it’s the grey. It gives me the--“ he sneezes again.

Caitlyn stepped forward threateningly. “Tell us how you wound up here.” she demanded, aiming her gun at him.

“Hey, wait, wait.” Heenot pleads. “Jinx is off the rails, even for her. She’s got a real fire lit up under her ass. she’s planning something big, right here in the pipe works.”

You moved the gun away from the man carefully, eyeing caitlyn with slight surprise.

“It is a pretty big place down here to do that.” You added.

Heenot grunts. “She was headed towards the old tunnels. Something about rerouting the vents.”

Caitlyn moved her finger away from the trigger, her face upturned into a scowl. “this is it, then. Cuff him.”

“Hey! I told you everything I know.” Heenot protests.

“You’re a confessed criminal. You’ll spend your retirement in a cell.” Caitlyn tells him, cocking her gun and tilting her head. “Check your gear. This is what we’ve trained for.”

Vi sighs, slowly walking near caitlyn, “can I get a minute? with you?” she asks you.

Caitlyn slowly turns around, seeing you and vi standing there with unsure looks. Avoiding caitlyn’s gaze you nodded and followed vi.

YOU SET YOUR WEAPON aside as you leaned against the railing inside the tunnel, tucking some of your (h/c) hair behind your ear as you gazed at a saddened but determined vi, her head lowered as she shifted her feet.

“We should cut the others loose.” Vi tells you, her eyes landing on yours as she sees you gasp quietly before speaking.

“Listen..if that heenot man is telling the truth, we may need all the help we can get, vi.” You whisper to her softly, only loud enough for her to hear.

Vi shakes her head. “She’ll smell their nerves a mile away and find a way to use them against us.” she informs you, “tell me I’m wrong.”

You were think about it, blinking a few times. maybe she was right— and she was. jinx probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill you, and as many times as vi told you to stay away from the blue haired girl it was like you would get caught in the crossfire every time.

“You know cait,” You spoke. “She won’t let jinx get away again without a doubt. she’s dead set on getting her. are you sure you’re even ready to--?”

Vi interrupts you. “(Name) she almost killed you. and it’s like everyone I care about either ends up dying or changing-- I can’t let that happen. my sister is gone. there’s only jinx now. It has to end.”

You knew this was hurting her, having to do this. but it was only now or later— because ending it all later would be too late.

Vi looks at your bandaged arm, “I am so sorry about your arm. I’m sorry I can’t fix it-- but please just…everyone in my life has changed. promise me you won’t change, you or caitlyn.”

Tears escape and cascade down her eyes as a gentle sob racked her throat.

Walking towards her you reached out your hand and cupped her cheek, going onto your tippy toes to kiss the tear away. Vi took a glance down at your lips before she began to lean in, you doing the same.

Vi fully leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, your lips molding against hers in a perfect melody. Vi then feels you pull away, your (e/c) eyes looking into hers again.

“I promise.” You whisper softly, nuzzling your nose against hers. “I won’t.”

Vi drops her gauntlets and suddenly her hands are wrapping around the small of your waist as she lifts you up into her arms with ease, her hands finding their way to your ass as she gives it a gentle squeeze, the kiss deepening from there as the two of you continued kissing.

This felt nice.

When vi pulls away, she sets you down. “Not bad for your first kiss, huh?”

“Hey! you did it first! I just finished it.” You winked before your watch started beeping, “huh…Jayce wants me to meet up with him. can you and cait do this alone?” you ask.

Vi nods in reply. “Yeah, yeah. I’d rather you be somewhere safe other than here.”

HEADING INSIDE JAYCE’S office, you see a younger male sitting with him, making you tilt your head in curiosity, “this is ekko?” You asked with a warm smile. Ekko seemed unsure whether to trust you but the smile made him ease a bit.

“What’s the topic?” You asked while sitting down, crossing your leg over the other as you leaned your cheek against your palm.

“Hextech.” Jayce replies. “Viktor hypothesized that there may be something he called ‘wild runes’. patterns that occur naturally where the border between our world and the arcane is thin.”

“Runes like the ones you use in hextech.” Ekko replies, leaning his head against his hand. “What’s the difference between those and wild runes?”

“Pass me a tome.” Jayce tells him.

Ekko slides the book over to him.

“So I used words you understood in order to elicit your action.” Jayce explains. “This is what hextech runs are.”

“Pass me a tome.” Jayce tells you this time.

You grabbed the book and handed it to him.

“Pass me a tome.” He says once more.

You let out a frustrated sigh, throwing the book his way.

“There! you sighed. still a kind of language.” Jayce says. “A sound, but not words. something raw. natural. that’s wild runes. most places, the arcane is dormant, but here and there, it’s more active. and wild runes are--“

“Sort of like its fingerprints.” Ekko finishes.

“Exactly.” Jayce nods in agreement.

Your brows furrowed. “Wait wait-- you mean to tell me you-- by using so much of the hextech you’re basically pissing off the arcane?”

“That’s-- that’s not what I--“ Jayce stammered as he avoided your gaze.

“Ooh, she may be onto something. every action sparks a reaction.” Heimerdinger says, accidentally dropping something on the ground. “Oh, ball sockets.”

Ekko chuckles when he sees this.

“Do you think this could actually be a result of overuse of hextech?” Jayce asks you, maybe it was true…using way too much hextech always made you wonder what would happen.

“That’s the only reason.” You answer, leaning back in your seat as you pondered the idea of what could happen. “I mean..I don’t use it, but if I did I probably would overuse it and not even know. everything has its limits.”

“We tested our hextech under every conceivable condition for years.” Jayce says. “If there’s some reaction taking place, how come we’ve never seen any sign of it until now? and why would it appear on a tree, deep underground?”

You and Jayce share a look.

“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” YOU ASKED with curiosity as you sat down your bag, walking next to heimerdinger who looked around.

“I thought the gemstone mesh was installed above ground.” Ekko says.

“Me too..” you added with narrowed eyes.

“The mesh is above ground, but we weren’t sure what would happen if the gate overloaded, so we installed a failsafe at the base.” Jayce explains, you crossed your arms over your chest, still unsure about the whole thing.

“So instead of it exploding in your neighborhood, it would blow up in ours.” Ekko retorts.

Jayce turns to him. “We’re miles from the main fissures.”

“These are the same utility ducts that carry our water,” Ekko tells him. “And facilitate our ventilation. and that would explain it affecting the tree.”

“Inconceivable.” You hear heimerdinger say.

“That..that doesn’t explain--“ You paused, wondering if becoming an enforcer was really what you wanted in the first place.

“You know, you say we should feel like we’re all one people.” Ekko continues. “But whenever it rains, we’re the ones that get wet--“

His voice echoed as the scenery in the room changed to something completely different, you blinked a few times, eyes landing on what was in front of you.

“What the…” Jayce trails off confusedly, looking around himself.

The entire room was white, dull, like it was full of nothing.

“Is that..a wild rune?” Ekko questioned, your gazed landed on the wild rune in front of you.

“I have no idea what that is.” Jayce added.

All four of you stood in front of whatever the glowing ball was in front of you, you stepped back, eyes widening a bit. “No way.”

Weirdly enough the rune starts affecting your hair, the edge of the strands beginning to change colors. Jayce reaches forward begins to touch it.

“Ow!” You flinched away from the rune, whatever you just felt rush into your skin made it hurt a thousand times worse than your hair.

“Jayce, stop touching it!” You shouted at him.

But Jayce doesn’t hear you.

The world felt like it was spinning before you turned towards him, a chill runs down your spine as your bottom lip trembled. “Hello..?”

You felt yourself collapse, the air in your lungs beginning to fade. Jayce touches the rune, you clutched your head, starting to hear whispers from every side of you. “Stop, stop, stop!”

Whatever you were hearing didn’t want to stop, it’s like they enjoyed antagonizing you.

The world around you was starting to look different.

“Ekko! Jayce!” You shout again. “Anyone?!”

Silence.

Something blasts you in your chest, knocking you back as blood falls down your nose.

Then it fades to black.

END OF CHAPTER THREE

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |12|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Killing, Talks of Murder

Word Count: 2.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Tara ran off almost instantly after Mindy said the shrine would be the killers lair, then pointed out this wasn’t a normal Stab movie. Sam moved to go after her sister, despite trying to play everything as normal and as if the attack last year changed nothing, she knew Tara was struggling. Kirby waved her off though and said she’d check on Tara herself. Sam frowned but she knew it was probably better if Kirby went, she had been through this before and every time Sam tried to talk to Tara it almost always ended in an argument.

Sam turned back to the display case that contained the cloak of Billy Loomis. Her eyes trailed from the white mask down to the blood knife at the bottom. So, many lives were ruined just by Billy putting on a stupid costume. She wasn’t sure who could possibly be after them this time, though she didn’t expect her boyfriend to be the bad guy last time either. Whoever was coming after them did their research though, they had everything from each of the Ghostface attacks, going back all the way to the very beginning. She noticed there was even a small display about Sidney’s mom, the murder that started it all.

Sam didn’t know how to protect everyone. Two random kids were killed, which Sam couldn’t care too much about because they were apparently planning to kill her and her sister, but then she was attacked at the gym, she only survived because of you. Since then, the attack at the bodega and then the attack at the apartment, everyone had only survived because of you. She didn’t know where they’d be without you, who else would be dead. She knew she still had to be cautious around you, but you were proving more and more that you were trustworthy and nothing like Richie.

The floor creaked behind her, and she froze. She slowly lifted her head to see you through the glass, standing behind her. You hadn’t said a word, you hadn’t pressed her for answers too hard, answers you rightly deserved. She owed you an explanation about everything, who she was and why this was all happening. You knew who she was, but Sam owed it to you to tell you everything from her own mouth.

“Are you okay?” You asked, finally breaking the silence.

Sam turned around and saw you looking at her with nothing but concern. She wasn’t sure how you could see all of this, see this mess that went all the way back to her birth father and not flinch. There was still no judgement in your eyes, you were looking at Sam with the same kindness you always had. Your first question since seeing all this wasn’t to demand an explanation or ask who any of these people were, you just asked if she was okay, you truly were too good for her.

“Why are you still here?” Sam asked as she spun around. “You’ve been cut and stabbed,” she gestured at you. “Shot at, almost died three times all for some stranger who goes to your gym.” She shrugged, you might have been too good for her, but you also seemed to be crazy.

You only smiled at her words, making her furrow her brow. Maybe you really were her type, you were definitely crazy. “I assure you; this is nothing compared to what I’ve been through,” you said. “And you’re not just some girl from my gym anymore, I think I know you well enough to not want you to get murdered.”

Sam shook her head. You were military, special forces at that, you had definitely seen some things. With the way you handled yourself, first with the knife, then the gun, and then even in the apartment you used your surroundings to your advantage, nearly choking Ghostface out with a curtain. You could more than handle yourself, Sam could only imagine what you would do with the right equipment and an actual plan instead of getting caught off guard. But this wasn’t some war zone, you were at home, you shouldn’t be fighting for your life like this.

“You don’t know me,” Sam mumbled. “Not really, but if you insist on sticking around you should probably know what you’re getting into.” Sam walked across the stage and took a seat, letting her legs hang off the edge. You slightly followed after her, taking a seat right next to her but leaving enough space so the two of you weren’t touching.

Sam stared across the theater, Ethan was walking around, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked around, Bailey stared at a few of the displays, furrowing his brow at the sight of some things. She looked to the side to see Gale staring longingly at one of the displays, Sam could only assume it had something to do with Dewey. Then there was Mindy, crouched down as she tried to comfort Anika off to the far end, with Chad standing a couple feet away, his arms crossed as his own eyes scanned over the group.

Sam clenched her hands into fists. She had heard a bunch of crap about her life and her family ever since that world learned the truth. She had known the truth since she was a teenager, she had spoken the words more than once. For some reason just opening her mouth to tell you seemed impossible. You could go online right now and find several articles talking about what she was about to tell you, saying the words out loud shouldn’t be a big deal.

“Whatever you say,” you said, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. “I promise you; it won’t change anything.”

Sam glanced at you and saw nothing but patience and understanding in your eyes. No one could really say nothing would change until they knew whatever it was, but you truly believed what you were saying. Sam knew she shouldn’t doubt you, you knew the rumors, you knew the basics, and you still stuck around. Everyone who learned the truth though ran and when they didn’t run it was usually because they had an ulterior motive, or they betrayed her.

“When I was younger, I learned my father wasn’t who I thought he was,” Sam let out a shaky breath as she got started. “My real father is Billy Loomis.” She could hear you suck in a breath at the name. “He’s the one who inspired all this,” she gestured around the room. “A year ago, my sister was attacked, by her best friend.” Sam shook her head, there were times she still couldn’t believe last year happened. Amber had never liked her growing up, but she always just figured Amber was an angry kid, she never imagined the girl would be a serial killer.

“Turns out it was all a ploy to lure me back home,” Sam let out humorless chuckle. “My now ex,” she wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t believe she had fallen for Richie, he had been so sweet and charming, that should have been the first indicator that something was wrong with him. “Set it up. He manipulated me, pretended to love me, then he tried to kill me,” she shook her head. “Oh, and he was apparently cheating on me the whole time with Amber.”

“Your ex, that was-”

“Richie,” Sam cut you off. “He tracked me down, became my co-worker, then friend, and then…”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“And it was all to make a stupid movie,” she scoffed. “He’s dead. I made sure of that. So, is Amber.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam looked at you with a furrowed brow, after everything she just said she wasn’t expecting another, I’m sorry’. “He might have been an asshole and a psychopath.” Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at your bluntness. “But whatever you felt for him was real, that doesn’t just automatically end because of what he did. It’s okay to be hurt or even feel bad about it.”

Sam nodded, no one had ever told her that before, well her therapist did but she dismissed it at the time. “But I don’t feel bad,” Sam whispered. “I don’t feel bad one bit,” Sam let out a humorless chuckle. “It felt good to kill him after what he did to me.”

Sam rested her head in her hand as she looked at you. You were looking down at the ground with your eyebrow scrunched up in concentration. “Someone started rumors about me online,” Sam said, making you look up, your brow still scrunched together. “Saying I set the whole thing up last year, that I killed my boyfriend, and he was actually the hero.” Sam shook her head, despite Sidney being there, despite all the police statements, the world seemed to believe some random reddit user over the facts.

“The world sees me as just another killer,” Sam shrugged. “Just like my father.” Sam ran a hand through her hair. “Now you know what a mess my life is,” she scoffed. “Why it would be a terrible idea to get involved with me.”

She thought back to the kiss the two of you shared just the other day. She had stopped it; she said she couldn’t. She told herself it was because she couldn’t fully trust you, she didn’t want to risk getting involved with someone else. The truth was she didn’t want to bring someone into her life, it was such a mess, she didn’t want someone else having to deal with the looks and the comments. You certainly didn’t deserve to be with someone like that, you were too good for all that, you deserved to have someone normal, someone who wouldn’t potentially get you stabbed every other day.

You had been silent most of the time and when Sam looked at you, she saw you nodding along. “Your life is a mess,” you finally said. Sam couldn’t help but smile, you were still as blunt as ever, she found she kind of liked that about you.

“About a year ago I was shot,” you said, your voice becoming distant as if you were going back to the memory. Sam furrowed her brow, she had seen the scars all over your body, she knew you had been shot before, she never imagined one of those injuries was so recent though. “Centimeters from my heart.” You kept touching a spot over your heart, Sam could only assume it was where you were shot. “It’s why I’m in town.”

“But you seem fine,” Sam said. Kirby said it was odd you were in town for longer than usual, that you were stationed in North Carolina. Kirby also said you were still active duty, if you had been injured enough to be discharged then that would be one thing but if you were healed and still active duty it didn’t make sense for you to be home for so long.

“Physically I am,” you rasped out. You were looking across the theater, but it was clear your mind was somewhere else. “But up here,” you tapped your head. “Haven’t been cleared,” you clenched your jaw.

“You seem pretty sane to me,” Sam offered. You were the most stable person she had met, which maybe she wasn’t the best judge in that department knowing her track record.

You huffed out a laugh at that. “Well, not according to my therapist. She won’t clear me until I talk about what happened.” Sam thought back to when you had told her you had a therapy appointment, you had said it was mandatory, that meant you were ordered to see your therapist, it wasn’t something you willingly went to like she did.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” If you had been seeing your therapist this long and it still didn’t seem like you were any closer to getting clear that meant you probably hadn’t talked about whatever it was yet. Sam might have been comfortable seeing a therapist and wanted to talk about her issues, but she knew that wasn’t the case for everyone, her sister in particular refused to see a therapist or talk about what happened in any meaningful way.

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s been long enough.” Sam remained silent as she nodded, she would give you as much time as you needed. “We had been deployed for a few months, it was supposed to just be a peacekeeping mission,” you shook your head. “Had done plenty of them before, meant to help build relations, and make connections. But then…”

You blinked away tears that had begun to fill your eyes, but you never let them fall. “A local militia attacked, we were caught off guard, we’re meant to always be prepared but it had been months without incident,” you continued. You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice as unwavering as possible. “My whole team was killed, my brothers,” you buried your head in your hands.

Sam sucked in a breath; out of everything she was expecting you to say it certainly wasn’t that. She couldn’t imagine the guilt you must be living with being the only survivor of something like that. The only reason she was as okay as she was was because of her sister and Chad and Mindy, without them she couldn’t imagine what she’d be like. They might not have liked to talk about what happened, but they relied on each other, they leaned on each other when one was struggling, and they celebrated together when something good happened.

“I was meant to die that day,” you whispered. “I should have,” you shook your head. You pressed your palm against your eyes before finally lifting your head again. “Somehow the bullet missed my heart, and the rescue team got to me just before I bled out.”

Sam opened and closed her mouth a few times. She wasn’t even sure where to begin with something like this, she was pretty sure there was nothing she could say to comfort you.

“See?” you said, giving her a tired smile. “I got just as much baggage as you.” Sam gave you a sad smile. “But I promise you, I’m much more screwed up, you don’t want any of this,” you gestured at yourself. “Coming into your life. Trust me,” you whispered. “It’s you who’s better off not getting involved with me.”

Sam opened and closed her hand. She wanted nothing more than to reach for you, to try and comfort you. She didn’t believe you; she was definitely not better off without you. You didn’t deserve anything that had happened to you, you weren’t to blame for your team dying. Ever since Sam had met you, all you had done was prove how good you were, you protected her, you joined the group to help protect everyone when you didn’t even know them. You told her your story as if you were warning her to stay away but it only proved to her that you truly were one of the good ones.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler @marsyay78

[houserautha]

More Than Enough

Prequel to That’s Enough

Summary: An ambassador visiting your court tries to assert himself over Feyd, who can’t quite help himself.

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x f!Reader

Word Count: 869

Warnings: MDNI, graphic mention of sex, public humiliation??

A/N: I wrote That’s Enough first, but hopefully this coincides with it😂 My (Thanksgiving) gift to you

While there are plenty of benefits to being the na-Baroness, not excluding the na-Baron himself, you despise certain aspects of it. Especially when power hungry, selfish men and women from the other Noble houses take residence in your court. You can’t even decline them without fear of inciting some argument, so they tell you that they’re going to visit and you have to accept them with open arms.

You’re especially irritated tonight. An ambassador from a far away planet is your current, unwanted guest and Feyd insists on a feast to welcome him.

It was all just a dance, a show, put on to demonstrate your wealth and power.

“It’s important that he’s impressed,” Feyd had said earlier as he zipped up the back of your dress. “A majority of our weapon exports goes to him.”

It made sense, too. The ambassador, Talmage, was a large, robust man, reminiscence of the Baron. He spoke loudly like he thought everything he said was of utmost importance, though every word that he shouted made you grind your teeth. Too grandiose, too proud, too infuriating.

“Can’t we just kill him?” You whisper to Feyd, leaning to whisper in his ear.

His gaze never strays from Talmage, who’s rambling incessantly, but you see a flicker of amusement on his face. Feyd taps his fingers on your thigh. “Not now.”

“Later?”

He glances at you. “No.”

“I hate him,” you whisper furiously, “how long did you say he was staying here?”

“Till the end of the week.”

In reply, you groan and snatch up your wine glass. His soft, stifled chuckles dance up your spine as you gulp down the rest of your drink.

Feyd’s fingers make circles on your thighs now. “Just think,” he says, mouth on the shell of your ear, “I’ll spoil you with all of the profits we make.”

“You know material things mean little to me.”

“But you look so pretty in them. And without.”

You give his shoulder a playful shove. Talmage must catch this interaction because he laughs boisterously, face flushed with drink and glee. “Ah, young love.”

“Isn’t she devastating?” Feyd asks.

“Certainly. How you let her out of your sight, or your bedroom, I don’t know,” Talmage says, giggling like he’s made a particularly funny joke.

Feyd lowers his chin slightly. You recognize this as a warning but Talmage, either too drunk or too stupid, carries on anyway. “You must not get very much done around here, na-Baron.”

“I’m quite…dexterous,” Feyd replies.

Talmage grins. “Are you generous, as well?”

You stiffen. It’s one thing to play the part as the quiet, dutiful wife — you couldn’t care less how this ambassador perceives you — but you don’t tolerate the notion of being passed around.

“She’s treated quite well, I assure you,” Feyd says.

“You are young, and handsome,” Talmage says, “but I have remarkable more experience.” He looks pointedly at you then.

You open your mouth to reply, but Feyd beats you to it. His smile is lazy, arm falling behind your chair in a move that’s both casual and possessive. “I admire your boldness, Ambassador.“

“Ah, you deny your guest some amusement?”

“Feyd,” you breathe.

Arm still draped over your chair, he squeezes your shoulder, a silent acknowledgement. “My wife’s amusement is my only concern.”

“Then indulge her,” Talmage says.

“Indulge her.” Feyd smiles, a predator baring his teeth. “Let me tell you something, ambassador. I’ve amassed more wealth for the Harkonnen name than any of my predecessors. I’ve garnered respect from all of my soldiers. I’ve bested every man that’s challenged me in a duel, and,” his eyes flash dangerously, “I know how to fuck my wife.”

You nearly drop the glass of wine you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“I meant no offense, na-Baron,” the ambassador stammers out, suddenly aware of exactly who he was toying with.

You swiftly kick Feyd’s calf with the toe of your shoe. He doesn’t even flinch, though you exerted quite a bit of force behind the endeavor. Your husband leans forward.

“I fuck her until she doesn’t know anyone’s name but mine, until she’s weeping with my cum. I bend her over our bed and fuck into that sweet, tight cunt. Ambassador, you could only dream of a woman so wet for you, keening and begging for your cock. No amount of experience,” he spits this word out bitterly, “compares to how I fuck my wife until she’s spent and satisfied. You can trust that it’s more than enough.”

You squeeze your thighs together, torn between anger and desire. While you usually love it when Feyd gets this way — impassioned, unhinged — you don’t appreciate him describing your fucking to the ambassador and to all of the members of the court at the dinner table. You clear your throat, cheeks warm.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, taking the napkin from your lap and dropping it on the table.

Feyd is still too enraged to convince you to stay, trembling with restraint. You slip out of his grip and, avoiding the wide eyes of the courtiers, stride with as much dignity as you can manage out of the feast hall.

He would pay for this.

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 9

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: FLUF

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter is so full of fluff. It’s a roller coaster, but a good one. Some big things happen in this chapter. 🥰 A few time jumps.

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

Jensen left a few weeks later to go back to work. The kids and I were excited to follow him as soon as school got out for the summer. When Jensen arrived in Canada he signed the paperwork for the house and he had been living there, waiting for us. 

I was packing the kids and I up for our trip. Jensen suggested I pack enough clothes for a week, and we would get some more clothes when we got there just to keep and use while we were there. 

As we boarded the plane, the kids and I were so excited. In a few short hours we would be back with Jensen. Halfway through the flight the kids fell asleep. A middle aged woman sitting near us smiled softly, “Your children are so beautiful, and so well behaved.” I smiled at her, “Thank you. Their dad and I are incredibly lucky to have all of them.” 

She nodded and smiled. I sent Jensen a text.

Me: Hey baby, we have a few hours left, the kids are fast asleep.

Jensen: I can’t wait. Clif and I are going to meet you guys at the airport. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms. 

Me: Me either. I can’t wait to see the house either. Maybe break in that new bed. 😘

Jensen: You better believe it, all night long baby. 😀

Me: I’ll hold you to it. I love you, see you soon.

Jensen: I love you too, and I can’t wait. 

I set my phone back down and looked over at our babies. They were all sleeping peacefully and my heart warmed at the sight. These four beautiful, sleeping children were now a huge part of my life, and I couldn’t see a future without them in it. 

When we finally landed and were headed towards the gate my anxiety started to creep up. I was anxious about getting the kids off the plane and to the baggage claim where Jensen was supposed to meet us. I knew this airport was large, and I didn’t want to lose them.

“Okay guys, when we get off this plane you four hold hands and JJ, you hold on to me, okay?” They all nodded. Before we could get off the plane a stewardess approached me. “Ma’am, are you Y/N Y/L/N?” “Yes, I am. Is there a problem?” “Oh no, we’ve been asked to escort you and your children off the plane to prevent any issues with fans. Mr. Ackles called the airline and told them there were pictures of you and the children on social media with your travel information. We just want to make sure you are all safe.” “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” 

“Okay, please follow us and we will get you guys out and through the airport and to Mr. Ackles.” We followed them and hopped on a transportation cart that zipped through the airport. I’d noticed a few people had their phones out, so I told the kids to keep their heads down. I didn’t want their pictures taken unless Jensen was okay with it. 

We pulled up to a private room and we were ushered in. Inside I saw Jensen and Clif standing there. I leaped into Jensen’s arms. “Jensen! I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t know anyone was taking pictures of the kids.” He held me tight, “Hey, it’s okay baby. It happens, you are all safe and here where you belong.” 

The kids ran to Jensen when I let him go, each one hugged him tightly telling him all about the last few weeks. “Hey guys, let’s get our stuff and go home.” I smiled at Jensen when he said that. “Yes, home.” I said.

We grabbed our bags and Clif drove us to the new house. It was even more beautiful in person. The kids had their own rooms, even though Jazzy and Arrow decided to share a room, and of course Jensen and I had a beautiful suite for our room. The bathroom was just as big as the bedroom. It had a double shower, and a huge double soaker tub. “Lots of room for both of us in that shower and tub, darlin’.” Jensen said with a smirk on his face. “We might have to test them out soon, baby.” 

We got the kids in bed, and Jensen and I sat in front of the fireplace, he had a glass of whiskey and I had a glass of wine. Everything was perfect. “Jensen, the house really is beautiful. Thank you.” “Oh baby, you’re welcome. This is our home. I want you to make any changes you want to make it feel more like ours. I nodded. 

As we sat sipping our drinks my mind kept wandering back to our conversation about marriage. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” “Honestly?” Jensen nodded, yes. “Us, our future, getting married.” 

Jensen sat his drink down, “What about it? Are you having second thoughts?” “Oh absolutely not. I want that more than anything. I was just thinking about what life would be like being Mrs. Jensen Ackles.” I blushed a little. 

“Well sweetheart, I can tell you it would look pretty much like this, the only difference is you’d be recognized more in public.” “Yeah, I just want to make sure the kids are safe when we go out.” “They will be, you will be, I promise.” 

Jensen stood, pulled me up and into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re here baby. I’ve missed you, your lips, your body.” He started kissing down my body, “Jensen, let’s take this upstairs.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the stairs, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” I giggled as I ran with him. 

We made it to the bedroom, Jensen closed and locked the door, and we made up for lost time, and Jensen was true to his word. We broke in the bed, all night long. 

*Time Jump December*

Jensen had just gotten home from a convention. I was supposed to go with him, but I had gotten sick and couldn’t go. I was completely bummed. Jensen and I had been dating for almost a year and there were pictures of us online with speculation we were dating. Jensen and I hadn’t confirmed anything yet, but he was going to confirm it at this convention since it was the last one of the season. 

“Jens, I’m so sorry I got sick and couldn’t go with you. I know you were excited to share our relationship with your fans.” I sniffled and coughed. “Hey, it’s okay. You can’t help you’re sick. We can always make a post online if you want to.” “Once I’m better we can if you want to.” “I do, Y/N. I can’t wait to share you with everyone. I’m so proud you’re mine and Jazzy is mine.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, “Now you lay back down and get some rest. I’ve got the kiddos.” I nodded and snuggled back down in bed. 

A few days later I was feeling better. I was thankful Jensen was home and was able to take care of the kids while I recovered. I jumped in the shower and went downstairs to find four very excited children and an even more excited adult. 

“What are you guys so excited for?” “Mommy, Daddy Jensen is going to take us to the Austin Trail of Lights tonight.” “Oh that sounds like so much fun, do y’all have room for one more?” I chuckled. 

Jensen stepped forward and put his arms around me, turning to the kids and said, “I don’t know. What do you guys think? Do you think we should let Mom come along?” The kids looked at each other like they were considering the question. I feigned hurt and laughed. “Yes! We want mommy to go with us.” 

“Whew, I was a little worried.” I said. Jensen pulled me close, laughing as he kissed me. “Eww, stop it.” The kids said. Jensen and I laughed. 

As night started to settle over the Austin sky, Jensen, the kids and I got ready to head out to see the lights. I had never taken Jazzy, and I hadn’t been since before she was born. The hum of excitement filled the car as Jensen drove with his hand in mine. 

I glanced over my shoulder and looked at the kids’ faces as we got closer to the trail. I loved seeing Christmas through their eyes. It always reminded me of what the season was truly about, magic, love and service to others.

Jensen helped me get the kids out and we walked to the gate. We held the kids’ hands in between us. As we approached the gate, Jensen pulled out his phone and showed the lady at the front the tickets. She smiled, looked over at us and nodded. “Have a great time, Mr. Ackles. You and your family. Merry Christmas.” Jensen tipped his head at her, “Thank you, Merry Christmas to you too.” 

The six of us started to walk the trail. Jazzy was completely blown away. Her and the other three were holding hands, giggling and walking just in front of Jensen and I. I took out my phone and started taking pictures of the kids, and a few of Jensen and I. 

We were halfway through the trail when something caught the eye of the kids. It was a beautiful display of a gingerbread house with gingerbread men at the front “Mommy look!” The kids called as I turned towards them. 

“Can we take a picture, mommy? Please?” I nodded and walked up with them to the house. I was snapping pictures of them doing different poses. I was laughing at their antics and turned to get Jensen’s attention. 

When I turned I gasped. Jensen was behind me, down on one knee and a small velvet box in his hand. I turned and looked at the kids who were now holding signs that read, “Mommy, will you marry Daddy?” 

I turned back towards Jensen, completely speechless. I noticed people standing around taking videos and pictures. “Well, darlin’, what do you say? Will you marry me?” Tears fell fast from my eyes, “Yes! Yes, Jensen, I’ll marry you!” 

I leaped in his arms, kissing him and hugging him. He slid the ring on my finger, and when we looked at the kids, JJ had flipped her sign over and it read, “FINALLY!” Jensen and I laughed. 

The group of people who had gathered around us were clapping and offering congratulations. I finally took a moment to look at my ring and it was breathtaking. There was a large solitary stone in the middle, and the four colored stones around it. Each stone represented the kids’ birthstones. 

“Jensen, this is so beautiful.” “I’m glad you like it. I hope you don’t mind. I added the kids to it too.” “No Jensen, I don’t mind at all. It’s perfect.” 

When we finished the trail Jensen pulled out his phone to message Jared, Nichole and his family to let them know. He asked, finally. “So I had already told them I was going to ask you, I figured there would be people there and I didn’t want our families to find out through social media.” “That’s smart. I’m sure it’s all over social media now.” “Yeah it is.” He chuckled as he showed me his phone. 

After we got home the kids were so excited and talked non stop about Jensen and I getting married. I noticed Jazzy was a little quiet, so I pulled her to the side with Jensen to talk to her. 

“Hey Jazzy girl, are you okay? You seem sad.” “No, I’m just thinking. I can’t wait for you and daddy Jensen to get married. Are you going to be an Ackles, mommy?” “Yes baby, when I get married to Jensen my last name will change to Ackles.” “Oh, will mine?” I looked at Jensen and he looked at me, “No baby. Your last name will stay the same. Your name changes when you get married or if you get adopted.”

I saw the tears form in her eyes. “So I won’t be part of the family?” Her voice is soft and sad. Jensen pulled her into his lap, “Oh baby girl you are part of the family. Your last name doesn’t change that.” She nodded. “Daddy Jensen, what is adopted?” 

“Well, for some people it means they get a new mommy and daddy, but for you that means I would go to a judge and ask them if I can be your daddy for real. If they say yes, then you get to change your last name to Ackles.” “Daddy I want to be your baby girl for real.” 

Jensen pulled her into a tight hug and looked up at me. “Sweetie, you are my baby girl, for real and forever.” “But I’m not an Ackles.” Jensen’s heart broke a little, “Do you want to be?” He asked her. “Yes! Then I can be your real baby.” “Well if it’s something you really want, we can see about it.” 

“Yay! I get to be your baby for real.” She hugged Jensen’s neck tightly and jumped down. “Bye mommy, bye daddy.” She waved as she went out of the room.

Jensen let out a deep breath. I touched his arm, “Jens, are you okay?” “Yes, I just want her to know she’s loved and I adore her.” “She knows, Jensen. She really does.” “What do you think about me possibly adopting her?” “Honestly that would be amazing, but it’s up to you.” “Darlin’ I’d love to, but it’s not just my decision. Do you think you could arrange a meeting for me and Josh’s parents?” 

“Yes I can call them, but why do you want to speak to them?” “I think it’s only right to ask their permission for me to adopt their granddaughter, since Josh isn’t around for me to ask.” I hugged Jensen, “That sounds perfect.” I kissed him. 

The next morning I called Josh’s mom and asked if Jensen and I could come over. She was more than willing to have Jensen Ackles in her house, she was a fan. 

When we arrived, she giggled when she answered the door and I introduced them. “Jensen, these are Josh’s parents, Margaret and Bill Johnson.” They shook hands and we were invited in. 

“So, Jensen, Y/N told us you wanted to speak to us. Oh and congratulations on the engagement. We are so happy for you two.” Josh’s mom said.

“Yes ma’am, and thank you. I love her and Jazzy very much. So I wanted to speak to you two about Jazmyne. She’s an amazing little girl and I love her like she’s my own. She fits perfectly in our family. When I marry Y/N, she will officially/legally be an Ackles, Jazzy will not. So, I’ve come to you both today to ask your permission to officially adopt her. You have my word she will always be your granddaughter, you two are always welcome in our home, and she will know what an amazing father Josh was. She will just be an Ackles, legally.”

Margaret was wiping tears away, and Bill was hard to read. Then he spoke, “Son, she’s our only granddaughter. Our only connection on this Earth to Joshua. If we give you our blessing, I need your word that she will still be in our lives. We wouldn’t survive losing her too.” 

“Yes, sir. I understand completely. You have my word, I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from you two. She needs you two in her life. You two are her direct connection to Josh, and that is something that can’t ever be replaced. I assure you, I’m not trying to replace anyone in her life. I’m just trying to help her feel like she belongs with all of us too.” 

“Jensen, honey, do you mind giving myself and Bill a few days to think about it?” “Oh absolutely, please take all the time you need. Here’s my number if you two have any more questions or any concerns come up.” Margaret took Jensen’s number and nodded. “Thank you, Jensen. We really do appreciate you coming and asking us. That shows amazing character.” 

Jensen and I stood to leave, Bill pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear, “You make him take care of you and that little girl. I’m glad you found him. He seems like good people.” I smiled and nodded, “He is, and he loves Jazzy so much.” 

Margaret hugged me after she hugged Jensen. Bill extended his hand to Jensen and shook his hand, “Jensen, son, thank you again. We will be in touch soon.” Jensen nodded and the two of us walked out to the car hand in hand.

Climbing in the car, there was a silence that fell between us. “I think that went well, Jensen. I really do.” Jensen nodded, “Yeah. I just hope they say yes. I don’t want Jazzy to feel like we don’t want her to be part of the family.” “I think they will, they just need to talk about it. They just want to make sure you are true to your word. I know you are, but they are a little worried.” “I get it completely. I would be too. I just wish there was a way I could convince them.” 

I took his hand in mine, “I know baby, just be patient.” He nodded and we drove home. When we got home Jensen went ahead and contacted his attorney to find out what he’d need to adopt Jazzy. “No, I’m not ready to move forward yet. I just wanted to know what the process would be. Yeah, okay. Thanks buddy. Yeah, I’ll call you back when I’m ready.” 

“So it seems like it's a pretty easy process. Since Josh is gone I don’t have to wait the standard length of time when two parents are involved. I just need your permission as her surviving parent.” “Well you know you have it, Jensen.” “I know, baby. I know.” 

A few days later Jensen’s phone rang. He showed me the caller ID. It was Josh’s parents. We walked into our bedroom to take the phone call. “Hello?” Jensen answered. “Hello, Jensen, this is Bill and Margaret Johnson. How are you today?” “Oh hello, Mr and Mrs Johnson, I’m doing great, how are you two?” “Please call us Bill and Margaret, and we are great. So I’m gonna get right to it. We talked about what you asked. We definitely have some reservations about it.” 

Jensen’s face fell slightly. I touched his hand. “I understand, sir.” Jensen said softly.

“However, we talked and we know how much you love our girls. We’re going to trust your word, son. You keep us in her life and take care of her, and we are more than happy to give you our blessing.” 

Jensen sat stunned. I squeezed his hand. “Son, are you still there?” Bill asked into the phone. “Oh yes, sir. I’m sorry. Thank you both so much. You have no idea what this means to me, to Jazzy.” “I think we do, Jensen. You take care of our girls.” “I promise I will. Y/N and I would also like to invite you two to celebrate Christmas with us and the kids. You’re family now, and that means you come for holidays, birthdays and other important things. You’re also going to have three more grandchildren by proxy.” Jensen laughed. Bill and Margaret chuckled, “Well I think we can handle that, Jensen. Are you sure we won’t be intruding on Christmas?” “Absolutely not, please come.” “Sure, we will be there.”

“Great! I’ll send you all the details when we get them finalized, and Bill, Margaret, thank you both again.” “You’re welcome, Jensen.”

Jensen hung up and pulled me into his arms, spinning me around. “I need to call my lawyer. I want to get this done ASAP.” I smiled at him, he was so excited and he was making me fall more in love with him. 

He came back into the room with a smile on his face. “Our court date is next week.” “Wow! That was fast, Jensen. How did you pull that off?” “Well I went to high school with the clerk of court, she pushed us on to the calendar. We have to go by the lawyer’s office to fill out the paperwork so he can file it. We can stop by tomorrow.” 

I nodded, “That sounds amazing, now we have to tell Jazzy.” Jensen nodded and walked downstairs to where the kids were playing. 

“Jazzy, can you come here please?” Jensen asked as he walked into the room. Jazzy came over and sat down beside us. “So Jazzy, mommy and I went to talk to Grandma and Grandpa Johnson about me adopting you. I told them how much I loved you and mommy and I asked them if they would be okay with me adopting you so you can be an Ackles. They told me they were okay with it.” 

“So daddy is going to adopt me?” Jazzy asked with wide eyes. “Yes baby girl, if you want me to.” She leaped into his lap, “Yes! I get a daddy again, and a brother and sisters.” He kissed her head and she jumped down.

I chuckled, “Well, I guess that was a yes.” “Yeah I think so too.” Jensen smiled, leaned over and kissed me.

*Time Jump Day of Court*

The kids, Jensen and I walked hand in hand into the courtroom. Josh’s parents, Jared and Gen, Nichole, and Jensen’s parents were all there. I was shaking and I was so nervous. Jensen held my hand, kissing the back of it, trying to steady my nerves. 

When the judge called our case, Jensen’s attorney spoke first. Then the judge, “Is the child present in the courtroom today?” “Yes, sir, she is.” “Can she step forward?”

I took Jazzy’s hand and stood beside her in front of the judge. “Jazmyne, I’m Judge Matthews, do you understand why you’re here today? She looked at me and I encouraged her to speak.

“Yes sir. I want Daddy Jensen to be my daddy for real and you get to say if we can or not.” “That’s right. So I just have a few questions for you, if that’s okay?” Jazzy shook her head, “Yes, that’s okay.” 

The judge smiled at her, “Okay young lady. Why do you want Jensen to be your daddy?” Jazzy stood there for a minute thinking about what to say, then when she opened her mouth, the whole courtroom fell silent. “I want Jensen to be my daddy because he makes my booboos better. He gives the best, biggest hugs. When mommy got hurt he kept me safe and when I was sad he made me better. He loves me and mommy too. He’s my daddy, like my Daddy Josh.” 

The judge nodded at her and smiled. “So you want Jensen to adopt you and you become an Ackles?” “Yes!” She squealed in delight.

The judge talked to me and Jensen for a few minutes. He asked if there was anyone present who wanted to make a statement on the adoption and Bill raised his hand, my breath hitched and a lump formed in my throat.

“Your honor, my name is William Johnson. Jazmyne is my granddaughter. Her father was my son Joshua. I came here today in support of this adoption. It saddens me that my son was never able to be the father that Jazmyne deserves, but I know with all my heart he sent Jensen to her and Y/N. This man loves this child like she was his own, so this adoption is just a formality at this point. I implore you to allow Mr. Ackles to adopt our little Jazzy.” 

The judge nodded, thanked everyone and said there would be a brief recess so he could come to a decision. 

About 30 minutes later we were being called back into the courtroom. When the judge was seated he asked for Jazzy, myself, Jensen and the other kids to step forward. 

“So making a decision like this isn’t one I take lightly. I look at all the evidence, talk to everyone I need to and above all I take into consideration how the child feels about it. Jazmyne, you, your mom and Jensen step forward slightly, please.”

The three of us moved forward. 

“After carefully weighing all the evidence I’ve come to the decision that from this day forward, Jazmyne Marie Johnson, will now be legally known as Jazmyne Marie Ackles. This is my order, entered this 13th day of December. Congratulations, Jazmyne. You are now an Ackles. 

The courtroom erupted in applause and Jazzy leaped in Jesen’s arms. Her arms pulled tightly behind his neck, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek and said, “You’re my daddy now, please don’t leave me.” He kissed her softly on the head, “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart, and neither are you, Jazmyne Ackles.” 

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[carmenilla]

incoming anti-milkvan rant but pro-elmike rant (and some byler mixed in there because you know me)

my rants aren’t very organized so i apologize :,)

mike and el haven’t been together since like the first season, and their relationship has been descending since then.

the most they’ve spent by each other’s side was in season three, and even then they were in a group setting like the whole time and it wasn’t them, together. also we’ve all seen the season three blocking. they are almost never next to each other

with will it’s the opposite. mike and will spent no time together in season 1, but spent 90% of the time together in both season 2 and season 4 (el was barely with mike in either of these seasons) and while season three had them be less of a pair, once again, the season three blocking comes in clutch and makes sure to pair mike with will in every group setting

they even spent the end of season 4 together. even after mike confessed his “love” for el. el and mike aren’t talking, they aren’t with each other, they’re not even paired together in the blocking of the final shot. (we all know who is, though.

when are mike and el ever together since they’ve been dating, excluding scenes that further the deterioration of their relationship? they’re barely together at all.

el continuously has a plot/subplot of coming into her own. being independent. not being defined by papa, or her dad, or mike (as max says in season three). obviously she wants to have a family and loved ones. she deserves to have that. she does have that - but that’s not going to be taken away or lessened by her standing on her own two legs without anyone else telling her how they want her to do so

all of this has been leading to a milkvan breakup. it’s been built up for multiple seasons now. they’ve laid the ground work. mike and el were best together and understood each other the most when they were friends.

notice how i didn’t say “just friends” - romantic relationships are not actually any stronger than friendship. just different. in fact, friendship is stronger, and while romance can heighten that (like with other pairings in the show) sometimes it just doesn’t (like with mike and el).

mike and el haven’t been friends for a while. like how people say “just friends”, they’re just dating. they’ve been doing this since they were so young and they’re still so young and they don’t understand the importance of the friendship aspect of romantic relationships. they only understand what girlfriend and boyfriend are supposed to do, and they can’t even try to do that without it all falling apart.

they need to be friends again. their relationship would be so much stronger. i miss their friendship. they were so sweet and so understanding and so good together when they were actually friends. a lot of couples are both friends and dating, especially in stranger things - look at lumax, my favorite example of this and why i love them so much. but mike and el aren’t. and they should be. they were best when they were

i fucking love elmike and there’s no chance of me getting them back if they keep trying to date each other “correctly” instead of, i don’t know, trying to be friends again. making genuine connections with each other. being true to the nature of their relationship. they are such friends, and maybe if they were friends and dating it would work out, but they’re not and it’s clear they’re not going to be. so if it’s one or the other, they should pick friends. they are amazing together as friends. they were always best as friends.

and then when we flip over to the byler side of things. mike and will have had a long time being friends. they’ve been friends, best friends, since kindergarten. in season 5, they’ll be in junior year, and they will have been best friends for ten years. they’ve had time to have their relationship develop, unlike mike and eleven. they are so clearly very good to each other and with each other as friends - but there is something grating on their relationship and friendship recently. something bubbling beneath the surface, making smooth sailing not so smooth.

yes, this is a metaphor for homosexuality. homosexuality is banging on their door. these bitches GAY. and it’s straining their friendship. they’re still friends, obviously, and they still want to be, but by ignoring this whole other piece of their relationship, they start fighting and misunderstanding each other for the first time in the history of their friendship. something clearly needs to change here.

when byler does become canon, there is zero doubt in my mind that they will still also be friends. that is the backbone and most important part of their relationship, and that is why their relationship will work. and that’s also 80% of the reason why i ship them, especially over milkvan, who just aren’t friends anymore like they were in s1.

something needs to change here in both mike and el’s relationship and mike and will’s. something that will benefit all these characters individually and their relationships. something that the creators have been laying the groundwork for for multiple seasons now. and i cannot wait to watch it happen. i love all three of these characters so much and i need them to get their happy ending

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Gargoyle/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 6,091 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist Part 1 (here), Part 2 (coming soon!)

You're a new volunteer at the halfway house and a dear friend of Esmeralda; you expected working here to be tough, but you didn’t expect to fall in love with one of the monsters seeking shelter here.

The halfway house loomed in front of you like something out of a gothic novel, all sprawling stone and ivy creeping up the walls. The rain had turned to a light drizzle, just enough to make the night feel colder than it should.

Tugging your jacket tighter, you glanced up at the carved arches of the doorway, wondering—not for the first time—if you were out of your depth. Then the door swung open, and there she was.

“Finally!” Esmeralda’s voice carried like a warm embrace. Her smile flashed sharp and bright, and even though you knew what she was, it still startled you to see her teeth. “You’re late.”

You laughed, stepping into her embrace without hesitation. Her arms were cool against you, but that was Esmeralda—cool to the touch, always warm in her way. “Blame the weather,” you said. “The train was slow, and so am I when it comes to resisting bakery stops.”

She pulled back and gave you a knowing look. “I told you to bring something. If you didn’t, I’ll be forced to scold you.”

You reached into your bag and produced a paper-wrapped box. “Raspberry tarts,” you said smugly. “Because I know you too well.”

Esmeralda’s grin widened as she plucked the box from your hands. “You do, darling. This is why we’re friends.”

Friends was a soft word for what you were. Not many humans knew what Esmeralda was, and even fewer stuck around once they did. You’d never cared. She had saved your life once, and you owed her for that. Besides, the world was far more interesting with a vampire for a best friend.

She stepped back and gestured for you to come inside. The house was just as impressive on the inside as it was on the outside. High ceilings, dark wood, and the kind of place that felt like it should come with a ghost or two.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here,” she said, leading you down the wide hallway. Her dark hair bounced as she walked. “The timing is perfect.”

“It always is. Sometimes, I think fate brings us together at just the right time. Every time.”

The place buzzed with quiet energy. You caught movement from the corner of your eye—something tall and shadowed slipping into another room.

Esmeralda waved a hand dismissively, either at your comment or whatever you thought you’d seen. “This time, it really is. I have some associates who could help us secure long-term funding, but they’re going to need convincing.” Her heels clicked against the floor, echoing through the hall as she stopped by an arched doorway and turned to face you. “That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” You blinked. “You want me to dazzle some vampires into handing over cash?”

“Not quite.” She smirked. “You’re a journalist. I need you to help record the residents’ stories. Show the work we do here—how important it is. You’re good at that, and the residents need to socialise with someone they don’t see day in, day out.”

You hesitated, looking around again. The house had a strange, quiet pull to it. “You think they’ll open up?”

“They will.” Her smile softened, just enough to feel genuine. “They just need a reason to.”

Esmeralda gestured for you to follow her further into the house, her heels clicking rhythmically on the wooden floor. “I think you’ll find the residents are more varied than you might expect,” she said, her voice tinged with pride. “This place doesn’t just offer shelter—it’s a second chance for some, a lifeline for others. If we’re going to convince my associates to fund us, they need to see the real impact we’ve had.”

You nodded, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “You think their stories will do the trick?”

“They will,” she replied firmly. “Though it depends on how well you can connect with them. Some are easy to talk to. Others... less so.”

Before you could ask what that meant, a blur of movement caught your eye. A small figure came rushing down the hallway towards you, barefoot and clutching something to her chest.

The girl skidded to a stop just inches from colliding with you, her mossy green hair clinging damply to her face. Wide, watery grey eyes darted between you and Esmeralda, her pale cheeks flushing an earthy pink.

“Oh! I-I’m sorry!” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, clutching what looked like a shiny silver trinket against her chest. “I didn’t mean to... I wasn’t looking where I...”

“It’s alright,” you said, smiling to put her at ease. You crouched slightly, meeting her eye level. “No harm done. You all right?”

The girl nodded quickly but didn’t speak again. Esmeralda placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her tone soft. “Maisie, this is the friend I told you about. She’s here to help us tell our stories.” She turns to me. “I thought you might like to start with Maisie?”

Maisie’s mossy hair swayed as she shook her head rapidly, eyes wide with alarm. “Oh, no, no. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Maisie’s an open book,” Esmeralda said to you, ignoring the girl’s protest. “Shy, but sweet as they come. Or,” she added with a hum, “you could start with Laurent and Olivier. They’re the oldest residents, so they have the most history to record.”

“Oldest?” you asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

Esmeralda nodded. “And the most stubborn. Olivier can chat for hours, but good luck getting Laurent to open up.”

Before you could respond, heavy footsteps thudded from the opposite direction, drawing your attention. Two towering figures appeared at the end of the hallway, their presence as imposing as it was magnetic. One was slightly darker in tone, his grey-green skin like moss-covered stone, his massive frame a wall of muscle. The other was a shade lighter, with a more angular build and sharp amber eyes.

“Maisie,” the darker one rumbled, his voice low and steady. “Give it back.”

The lighter one sighed, crossing his arms. “You know stealing isn’t a game, right?”

Maisie squeaked, thrusting the trinket forward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it!”

Esmeralda leaned in. “Meet Olivier,” she said, nodding towards the lighter figure, “and his twin, Laurent.”

They strode closer, the hallway seeming to shrink under their sheer size. They were massive, nearly seven feet tall, with broad shoulders that seemed to stretch the very definition of imposing. Their skin, textured like weathered stone, shimmered faintly in the dim light.

Your gaze caught on Laurent first, the larger of the two. His face was broad, with a wide, squashed nose, sharp, heavy brows, and tusks that curved slightly from his lower jaw. The glow of his amber eyes cut through the shadows, steady and unreadable, but there was something about the way he carried himself—stiff, upright, every movement deliberate—that made your chest tighten.

He looked like he’d been carved from stone itself, all strength and immovable purpose, and yet the detail of him was captivating: the faint cracks across his forearms, the way his massive wings, folded tightly against his back, curved with a natural grace.

For a moment, you forgot to breathe. He was terrifying. He was magnificent.

He was staring right at you.

You forced yourself to focus on Olivier instead, who offered a crooked smile as he took the trinket from Maisie. His features were similar to Laurent’s—squashed and intimidating—but there was a softness to him, in the way his golden eyes glinted and the slight curve of his lips. “I hope we didn’t scare you too badly,” Olivier said, his tone teasing as he turned the trinket over in his claws.

You shook your head, managing a smile despite the fact that your pulse was still racing. “Not scared. Startled, maybe.”

Laurent’s low, rumbling voice cut in, deeper and rougher than Olivier’s. “You looked scared.”

The words hit like a challenge, his gaze boring into yours with a quiet intensity that made the air feel heavier. Your throat tightened as you tried to find your footing again. “First time meeting a gargoyle,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the unease creeping into your chest. “I wasn’t expecting statuesque giants in the hallway.”

Olivier’s laugh broke the tension, his grin widening. “Statuesque. We’ll take that as a compliment.”

Laurent’s expression didn’t shift, but something in the flicker of his eyes told you your attempt at humour had landed poorly. He glanced briefly at Esmeralda, then back at you. “We’re not statues, that’s a myth.”

It wasn’t quite defensive, but there was a weight to the statement, a quiet correction. Your cheeks warmed under his scrutiny, though you weren’t sure if it was embarrassment or something more disconcerting.

“Well,” Esmeralda interjected smoothly, her tone placating, “I think introductions are overdue. Laurent, Olivier, this is my friend. She’s here to help us with some important work.”

Laurent’s stare lingered for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to Maisie. “You need to stop taking our stuff.”

Maisie mumbled another apology, clutching her mossy hair nervously before darting down the hallway toward her room. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she vanished into the shadows. You watched her go, relieved that she seemed more embarrassed than upset.

Laurent and Olivier lingered for a moment longer. Olivier gave you a small, hesitant smile, the kind that seemed polite but guarded. “It was nice meeting you,” he said, his tone warm; but still laced with caution.

Laurent, on the other hand, didn’t bother with any pleasantries. His amber eyes flicked over you briefly, unreadable, before he turned and walked away. Olivier followed a moment later, the two of them moving in sync, their massive wings shifting slightly as they disappeared into the house.

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your chest easing now that they were gone.

“I’m sorry about Laurent,” Esmeralda said softly, drawing your attention back to her. Her dark eyes held a mix of amusement and sympathy. “He has... a way of putting people on edge.”

You crossed your arms, still feeling the weight of his gaze. “He’s intense - and intimidating. Is he always like that?”

Esmeralda tilted her head thoughtfully. “Most of the time, yes. Laurent is...” She paused, searching for the right words. “Complicated. Fiercely loyal, deeply protective, but also very guarded. He doesn’t trust easily, especially humans.” Her lips quirked into a small smile. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not you—it’s everyone.”

You raised an eyebrow, still curious. “Olivier? He seemed... nicer.”

“More approachable, certainly,” Esmeralda agreed. “Don’t let his smile fool you. Olivier is just as wary as his brother. The two of them are inseparable. They’ve been through too much together to let anyone else in easily.”

“Oh?”

Her tone shifted slightly, quieter, more serious. “I could tell you more, but it’s not my story to share. That’s for them to decide.” She gestured down the hallway, as if to indicate the direction the gargoyles had gone. “If you want to understand them, you’ll need to hear it from them. Separately.”

You frowned, puzzled. “Separately?”

Esmeralda nodded. “Laurent and Olivier rely on each other. That’s not a bad thing, but it’s... limiting. They rarely speak to anyone else, and I think it would do them good to branch out. Even if it’s just for this project, talking to you individually could be important for both of them.”

You hesitated, unsure if Laurent’s gruff demeanor was something you could break through. Still, there was something about him—and Olivier—that intrigued you. You wanted to understand why they were here, why they stayed when so many others seemed to move on.

Esmeralda smiled, her sharp features softening. “Take your time. They’ll open up eventually. Just be patient… and persistent.”

You nodded slowly, already thinking of how to approach them. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said warmly, motioning for you to follow her further down the hallway. “Now, let me show you where you’ll be staying.”

***

The room Esmeralda had set aside for you was beautiful, in a way that felt almost too much. The ceilings were impossibly high, the bed large enough to swallow you whole, its dark wooden frame heavy and ornate. A tall wardrobe sat in the corner, its doors slightly ajar, revealing neatly folded blankets that you didn’t need.

The entire space was cold; not freezing, but just enough to keep you shifting under the covers.

Then there was the snoring. It rumbled low and steady through the wall, like some great beast slumbering on the other side. You guessed it might be one of the residents—a werewolf, maybe? Whoever it was, they were sleeping far more soundly than you.

Frustrated, you kicked the blankets aside and padded over to the tall windows that opened onto the balcony. The latch creaked faintly as you slid it open, stepping out into the night. A chill breeze hit you immediately, raising goosebumps along your arms, but it was a relief after the oppressive stillness of the room.

The view was eerie. Beautiful. The sprawling grounds of the halfway house stretched out below, dark shapes of trees swaying in the faint wind. Above, the moon hung bright and full, casting everything in a silvery glow.

There, perched on the roof like a gargoyle carved into the building itself, was Laurent.

Your breath caught. He was perched on the very edge of the roofline, his wings partially unfurled, silhouetted against the moonlight. His massive frame was still, his head tilted slightly as though he were watching the horizon. He looked like part of the house, his dark skin blending into the stone.

You took a quick step back, hoping he hadn’t seen you. The last thing you wanted was to disturb him—or worse, have another uncomfortable interaction like earlier.

The faintest movement of his head confirmed he’d already noticed you. His glowing amber eyes locked onto yours, even from a distance. There was no going back now.

After a moment’s hesitation, you decided to take a leap of faith—literally. Climbing up onto the roof seemed like a terrible idea, but staying silent felt worse. You couldn’t explain it, but something about Laurent’s presence pulled at you. You grabbed the nearest part of the latticework and started to climb.

The wind picked up as you scrambled higher, the cold biting at your fingers. The angle was steeper than you’d thought, and halfway up, your foot slipped.

A startled gasp escaped you as you lost your balance. Before you could fall, a massive hand closed around your arm, pulling you up with startling strength. Laurent’s grip was solid and unyielding, his claws barely brushing your skin as he steadied you.

“Careful,” he rumbled, his voice low and rough. “You’ll get yourself killed.”

Your legs trembled as you clung to the edge of the roof, heart racing more from the near fall than anything else. “I-I wasn’t—”

“You’re scared,” he interrupted, his gaze sharp, almost accusing. “You shouldn’t have come up here if you’re afraid of me.”

“Afraid of falling,” you snapped, your voice steadier than you expected. “Not you.”

His expression flickered, surprise flashing across his heavy features before settling into something unreadable. Slowly, he pulled you fully onto the roof, setting you down with more care than you’d expected.

“Hmm,” he muttered, his deep voice more thoughtful now. “You’re braver than you look.”

You sat smiled and carefully, legs crossed, and your hands braced behind you for balance. The roof slanted enough to make your stomach churn if you looked down too long, so you fixed your gaze straight ahead instead. The cold stone beneath you seeped through your clothes, sharp and uncomfortable, but Laurent’s steady presence made the discomfort bearable.

He hadn’t moved far, crouched on the edge of the roof like he belonged there, his wings partially spread to balance himself. The moonlight outlined him in silver, catching on the rough texture of his mossy-green skin and the faint cracks that ran across his arms. His claws flexed once, idly, before going still again, his focus still somewhere in the distance.

The silence between you stretched, heavy and unfamiliar. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, watching the way his sharp, angled features caught the light. His face was undeniably strange—his nose wide and squashed, his jaw prominent and square. His glowing eyes were the most striking, unblinking as they reflected the faint light of the moon.

Odd, you thought. Odd, but not unattractive. Certainly unconventional, but there was something compelling about the strength in his features, the way his stillness made him seem carved from the roof itself.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, the weight of his gaze knocked the breath from your chest. He wasn’t just watching you—he was studying you, those amber eyes sharp and expectant.

You fumbled, sitting up straighter. “I—uh...” The words caught in your throat as his expression remained unreadable. “Esmeralda thought I should talk to you.”

His brow furrowed slightly, one of his wings shifting closer to his body. “Why?”

You rubbed at the back of your neck, feeling the cold bite of the wind there. “She’s... She’s hoping to get funding for the house. She thought that if I recorded the residents’ stories, it might help convince the people she’s reaching out to.”

For a moment, Laurent didn’t respond, his gaze sweeping back over the horizon. You wondered if he was ignoring you entirely when he finally said, “I know she’s been struggling.”

His voice was low, rough, but there was something softer beneath it. You tilted your head, surprised by his honesty. “You do?”

He nodded, still watching the trees sway in the distance. “She tries to keep it quiet, but it’s obvious if you pay attention. Fixes that don’t get finished. Rooms that stay empty longer than they used to.”

You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t wrong—Esmeralda’s determination to keep the house running sometimes masked just how precarious things had become.

“She thinks your story could help,” you said quietly.

Laurent’s jaw tightened at that, his claws flexing again. “I don’t tell my story.”

It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t exactly welcoming either. You braced yourself, determined not to retreat. “Maybe this time, you should.”

“No,” Laurent said flatly, his gaze cutting back to you.

The weight of the word hung in the air, as immovable as the gargoyle himself.

You hesitated, frustration bubbling under your skin. “I’m not asking you to bare your soul or anything,” you tried, keeping your tone even, calm. “It’s just—Esmeralda really believes this could help the house. You’re the oldest resident. Your story matters.”

“I said no.” His wings flared slightly, a restless motion that seemed involuntary, and his claws scraped faintly against the stone roof.

Your irritation flared, pushing past the unease in your chest. “Why; what are you so afraid of? Esmeralda has done so much for you, she deserves—”

“Enough!”

His voice cracked like thunder, louder than anything you’d heard from him before. It rolled over you, heavy and full of raw anger. Laurent turned toward you fully now, his massive frame towering in the moonlight.

“Do you ever shut up?” he growled, his tusks catching the faint light as his upper lip curled. “Take the hint and fuck off!”

The words hit like a slap, sharp and final. For the first time since arriving at the house, you felt real fear, a cold knot tightening in your stomach. The sheer size of him, his claws flexing at his sides, the tension radiating from every inch of him—it was overwhelming.

Your heart pounded as you scrambled to your feet, stepping back toward the edge of the roof. “I’m sorry,” you stammered, barely managing to get the words out. You turned, gripping the stone ledge as you clambered awkwardly down to the balcony.

When your feet finally hit solid ground, you turned back instinctively, catching sight of him still standing on the roof. The shadows draped over him like a second skin, his wings tucked tight against his back, but he didn’t look at you. He stared straight ahead, as if you’d already disappeared.

The knot in your stomach tightened further. You wanted to call up to him, to try again, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the one he tried to mask with cold indifference. Or maybe it was the sharp edge of your own fear.

You turned back to the hallway, your chest still tight as you opened the door quietly. You hadn’t made it far when a vaguely familiar voice stopped you.

“Are you alright?” Olivier stood just ahead, his expression a mix of concern and something softer. He glanced toward the balcony, his wings twitching faintly. “I was looking for Laurent. Did something happen?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “We talked. Or... tried to. He got angry. I pushed too hard, and he told me to leave.”

Olivier’s brows furrowed, and he stepped closer, his broad shoulders hunched slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “My brother... he has his reasons for being the way he is. That’s not an excuse, but I hope you understand.”

You nodded, still rattled. “I didn’t mean to upset him.”

Olivier gave you a faint, apologetic smile. “He knows. He just... needs time.”

You smile awkwardly, trying to stuff down the flicker of guilt growing in your stomach. “Yeah, I know.”

***

The next few days passed in a blur of activity. You kept yourself busy, determined to avoid crossing paths with Laurent. If he didn’t want to talk, fine. There were plenty of other residents willing to share their stories, and you threw yourself into listening to them.

Maisie was the first. The young kelpie was painfully shy, her mossy hair dripping faintly as she sat across from you in the sunlit sitting room, her knees drawn to her chest. She’d come from a small loch in the Scottish Highlands, the last of her kind in that area. Her voice wavered as she explained how the world had changed too much for her kind to survive, her watery grey eyes filled with a sadness that seemed far older than her youthful appearance.

“Humans don’t leave offerings anymore,” she murmured, twisting a strand of mossy hair between her fingers. “They drain the lochs... build over everything. There’s nowhere left for us.”

Her words stayed with you long after she returned to her room.

Lucas was a different story entirely. The boisterous werewolf cornered you in the kitchen as you were grabbing a drink, pulling you into a sprawling conversation over a shared pot of coffee. He was charming and open in a way that felt effortless, leaning against the counter as he recounted his life before the halfway house.

“I used to live in the city,” he said, stirring sugar into his cup. “Worked construction, went out on weekends, the usual. Then I met someone—human, obviously—and things got... complicated.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “Complicated how?”

Lucas’s grin faltered, his golden-brown eyes dimming slightly. “She found out. Couldn’t handle it. One night I shifted in front of her by accident, and that was that. She told people. I had to run.” He shrugged, a casual motion that didn’t quite mask the tension in his shoulders. “Esmeralda found me before things got worse.”

It struck you how casually he spoke about something that had likely upended his entire life. The ease in his tone felt practiced, a cover for something far deeper.

You wanted to press him further, to ask how he’d really felt when everything fell apart, but the slight twitch in his jaw warned you to tread lightly.

“Well,” you said instead, offering him a small smile. “It sounds like you’ve found a place here. Even if it’s... not what you planned.”

Lucas exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Yeah, it’s not bad. Esmeralda runs a tight ship, and the residents aren’t half as scary as they look.” His grin returned, broader this time. “Most of them, anyway.”

He didn’t say it outright, but you could hear the unspoken Laurent in his words. The conversation drifted to lighter topics after that, but even as Lucas returned to his usual charm, his story lingered with you.

Later that evening, as you wandered the hallways, you found yourself drawn to the little-used staircase that led to the third floor. You’d avoided it until now; Esmeralda had casually mentioned that only one resident stayed there, and even she hadn’t offered much detail.

The stairs creaked under your weight, the air growing cooler as you ascended. The third floor was darker, the faint scent of dust and something older curling in the still air. Shadows clung to the corners, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d imagined the faint movement flickering just out of sight.

Then a voice, low and whispery, broke the silence.

“You’re brave... or foolish.”

You froze, your breath catching. The shadows shifted ahead of you, curling and stretching until they coalesced into a shape—not quite solid, not quite human. A pair of faintly glowing eyes blinked into existence, and you realised you were face-to-face with something dark and shadowy.

“I heard you don’t like visitors,” you said carefully, your voice steady despite the prickling unease that crawled up your spine.

Rio’s shape rippled, his outline flickering like smoke caught in the wind. “Most of them don’t try to talk. They... avoid me.”

You took a tentative step closer, tilting your head. “Why’s that? You seem... well, intimidating, sure, but not terrible.”

A sound that might have been a chuckle escaped him, soft and dry like paper crumpling. “That’s... generous. What do you want?”

“I’m recording stories for Esmeralda,” you explained, watching the shadows shift around him. “About the residents, their lives. She said it might help the house.”

Rio was silent for a long moment, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. “A human,” he murmured, almost to himself. “She sent a human.”

Despite the odd flicker of fear still clinging to your thoughts, you crossed your arms. “Are you going to let that stop you?”

His form seemed to grow taller, darker, before shrinking back again. “No. Ask.”

The exchange was brief, fragmented, but he answered you, his words drifting like smoke in the quiet hallway. When you eventually thanked him and left, you couldn’t shake the sense that you’d just glimpsed something rare, something no one else had seen.

Esmeralda’s delight later was almost infectious, but even as she praised you for managing to talk to Rio, your thoughts wandered. No matter how many stories you gathered, one glaring absence loomed in your mind.

Laurent still hadn’t spoken to you, and you were starting to wonder if he ever would.

***

Maisie sat cross-legged on the couch, her mossy hair draped over one shoulder as she carefully plaited it into thin, uneven braids. You were perched on the other end, notebook in hand, jotting down details of her story between her shy pauses.

“I suppose,” Maisie murmured, her voice as soft as the brush of water against stone, “I was lucky Esmeralda found me when she did. I didn’t... I didn’t know where to go.”

You glanced up, offering an encouraging smile. “You’ve been here a while now, though. Do you feel safe?”

Maisie nodded, her fingers still working through her damp hair. “Safe, aye, but it’s... different. Always worrying someone will notice something.” Her gaze dropped to her lap, her voice quieter now. “People don’t like what they don’t understand.”

Her words sat heavily between you, both of you lost in thought until the murmur of voices from the next room pulled you back.

Esmeralda’s voice, low and sharp, carried through the doorway. “You don’t think they’ve figured it out, do you?”

Maisie froze mid-braid, her watery grey eyes snapping to yours. You shook your head slightly, motioning for her to stay quiet as Lucas’s reply drifted through the air.

“It’s just talk, Esme,” Lucas said, his tone calm but edged with unease. “People in small towns gossip. It doesn’t mean they know anything.”

“What if they do?” Esmeralda shot back, her usual poise slipping. “What if someone’s realised what we are? You’ve heard the rumours as much as I have. Strange sounds. Lights at night. The halfway house full of strangers. They’re putting things together.”

Maisie’s hands trembled, her braid forgotten as she leaned closer to you, her voice a whisper. “Are they talking about us?”

You pressed a finger to your lips, trying to focus on the conversation.

“They’re always going to talk,” Lucas replied, though his voice sounded strained now, the usual easy charm missing. “It doesn’t mean we’re in danger. We’ve dealt with this kind of thing before.”

“This is different,” Esmeralda insisted. “I know when someone’s watching. I know when someone’s looking too closely.”

There was a pause, the kind that felt heavy with things unsaid. Then Lucas spoke again, softer this time. “If someone’s onto us, we’ll deal with it. We always do. You’ve been keeping this place running too long to let a few nosy villagers bring it down.”

The tension in Esmeralda’s voice didn’t ease. “I won’t let them hurt anyone. Not again.”

Your stomach tightened at her words, and you could see Maisie clutching her knees, her knuckles pale against her mossy skin. You wanted to tell her everything was fine, that it was just paranoia, but the edge in Esmeralda’s tone made it hard to believe even yourself.

Maisie’s whisper barely broke the silence. “Do you think... they’ll come here?”

You didn’t have an answer. Instead, you closed your notebook and gave her a reassuring smile you didn’t quite feel. “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” you said softly, though the uneasy knot in your chest told you you’d both heard enough to worry.

Maisie’s fingers fidgeted with her braid, unravelling it as quickly as she’d plaited it. Her watery grey eyes darted toward the doorway where Esmeralda and Lucas’s voices had been, their absence now replaced by an uncomfortable stillness.

“Maisie,” you said gently, closing your notebook and setting it aside. “We can pick this up another time, yeah?”

She blinked, her mouth forming a small o of surprise before she nodded quickly, her mossy hair swaying. “Aye, I—thank you,” she mumbled, standing so quickly that the hem of her long skirt caught on the couch. She tugged it free and all but darted out of the room, her bare feet silent against the hardwood floors.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stood. You didn’t blame her. Whatever Esmeralda and Lucas had been talking about had set both your nerves and hers on edge. There was no use pushing her now.

Stepping into the hall, you nearly collided with someone solid—someone massive. Your heart skipped as you looked up to find both twins standing there, blocking most of the narrow hallway with their combined size.

Laurent, as always, looked like he’d been carved directly from the walls—stoic and unmoving—while Olivier’s brows rose slightly, his expression more open but just as unreadable.

“Sorry,” you said, stepping back and trying to gauge whether they’d heard the conversation too. From the way Olivier’s amber eyes flicked toward the sitting room door, it was clear they had. Neither of them said anything, and you felt the awkwardness thicken around you.

“So, uh,” you started, fumbling for something to say. “What brings you to this end of the house?”

Olivier gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just stretching our legs.”

Laurent, on the other hand, didn’t so much as blink. He stood there, his wings tucked close, a hulking silhouette against the dim light of the hallway.

You cleared your throat, glancing between them. “Well, nice to, um, bump into you. Again.”

Olivier’s smile widened just a fraction, but Laurent simply turned, his massive frame moving further down the hall. Olivier followed without another word.

Later, when sleep refused to come, you found yourself wandering into the kitchen. The faint hum of the refrigerator was the only sound at first, until a low, familiar voice startled you.

“You’re up late.”

Laurent was standing near the counter, his hulking frame somehow looking out of place amidst the cosy clutter of the kitchen. His wings shifted slightly as he turned, glancing at you with those glowing amber eyes.

“So are you,” you replied, leaning against the doorway.

For a moment, you thought that was the end of it. Then, awkwardly, he gestured toward the kettle. “Tea?”

The word was stilted, almost uncertain, and you blinked.

“Sure,” you said, your voice softer now.

Laurent reached for a small container, and your eyes widened as he set it on the counter. It had your name written neatly on the label.

“You knew where my tea was?”

He shrugged, the movement oddly stiff. “Esmeralda said it was yours. You leave it in the same spot.”

You stared, caught between surprise and something warmer. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

His claws brushed the edge of the container as he opened it. “I notice everything.”

You didn’t comment, instead watching as he ambled about the kitchen.

Laurent moved with a quiet efficiency that seemed incongruous with his size. The kettle hissed softly as he poured the steaming water into two mismatched mugs, his massive hands surprisingly deft as he worked. His shoulders hunched slightly to accommodate the low cabinets above him, and every shift of his wings made the kitchen feel even smaller.

You watched him from your spot near the table, caught between awkward silence and an inexplicable pull you didn’t entirely understand. He seemed too big for the space, too solid, like the room itself might give way before he did.

Yet, there was something mesmerising about the precision of his movements, the quiet strength in the way he handled something as simple as making tea.

The air between you was heavy, uncomfortable. You wanted to say something—anything—but the words refused to come. Laurent didn’t seem inclined to break the silence either, his amber eyes focused on the mugs as he let the tea steep.

Your fingers tapped absently against the edge of the table, the tension stretching taut. “I, uh... I didn’t mean to push you before.” The words slipped out before you had time to second guess them. “When I first got here. I just… I was trying to help, and I think I overstepped.”

Laurent didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached for the mugs, his claws brushing the handles as he turned to hand one to you. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, the glow in them unreadable.

“I don’t like being pushed,” he said finally, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the small kitchen.

The sound sent a shiver down your spine, something deep and instinctive that wasn’t entirely fear. You nodded, fingers wrapping around the warm mug. “I get that. I just... wanted you to know I’m sorry.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his tusks catching the faint light as his jaw shifted. “You meant well,” he said eventually, his tone gruff but not unkind. “It’s fine.”

The tension between you didn’t entirely dissipate, but something in the air felt different. You took a deep breath, lifting the mug to your lips—

A sudden crash from somewhere in the house shattered the quiet, the sound sharp and violent enough to make you jump. The mug slipped in your hands, hot tea splashing onto your fingers and sending a spark of pain through you.

Before you’d even registered it, Laurent was already moving. His wings flared slightly, casting shadows across the walls as he straightened to his full height.

“Stay here,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Another sound followed—a muffled shout, unfamiliar voices carrying through the hallway. Laurent’s head snapped toward the doorway, his body tensing like a spring ready to release.

“Who the hell is that?” you whispered, your heart pounding as the voices grew louder. Laurent didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped toward the door, his massive frame blocking your view as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed closer.

[utilitycaster]

A thought in my head I’d like your take on about Liliana (and the whole campaign). You’ve talked a lot about how this campaign is more streamlined/like a module, like Matt wanted to tell The Moon Story this campaign, and for many reasons the Hells seem to have less agency than previous parties. I’m curious if Imogen ever could’ve convinced Liliana to join them, like if Matt would’ve let it happen or he always wanted to let this moment happen. Like Imogen didn’t often get to roll persuasion? It was just a lot of trying and failing to convince her mom, whereas like in campaign 2 Essek, someone the characters didn’t even know was bad, they managed to convince him to “switch sides” without even trying. Idk just all the circular arguments with Liliana, like “I can fix him, I can steer him in a different direction, I can’t leave the children, I can’t help you” it just feels like Matt was never going to let them bring Liliana over to their side

So this is a wild personal hunch but I honestly do not know if Matt realized initially that Imogen would try to persuade her mother. Like, I will admit to having a lot of D&D instincts that are very different than Laura's because I would have absolutely have gone for the assassination and Liliana would have possibly been out of the picture long before now, presumably (and to be clear, that would have had its own consequences! Ludinus probably would have gotten someone else to broadcast the Downfall information). I wouldn't be surprised if Matt was surprised that Imogen cared this much about someone who was consistently unhelpful and had abandoned her.

But more generally I think that Essek and Liliana are just different people. Essek did not believe in a specific cause and generally thought Ludinus sucked, but would at least provide some answers. I think by the time the Mighty Nein rolled around he was already having some regrets, even if they were largely self-interested at the time, and so being treated as just a normal guy was enough to start the process of shaking him out of it. He also was intended as an interesting recurring NPC, and the party adopted him for a number of reasons.

Liliana was already fully on Ludinus's side when the story started (though, again, aware enough to know Imogen should probably stay away) and was intended as an antagonist. It makes sense the party would cross paths fewer times with her than the Mighty Nein with Essek. There was no opportunity to hang out with her socially without the fact that she was fully in this cult hanging over everyone's head; we knew she was part of the Vanguard before we met her in person. I think it's more that like, the DC to pull her away was very high! She is either indoctrinated or genuinely of her own accord believes in the cause of the Vanguard. I think if Imogen had done a better job during the initial ritual things might have been different, but once she locked into the path I think it is reasonable DM-ing not to have her so easily swayed.

[possessiveandobsessive]

The Spirit of Determination

Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.

Part 2: Guilt is a Painful Poison

Rook had just made it to the bottom of the first set of stairs into the library and was preparing to head down the second when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Where are you going, Rook? Are you going alone?”

That voice, that damn voice. Smooth as velvet, with a deep rumbling tone that she could feel down in her core.

She closed her eyes. Of course it’s him. It’s always him. Rook turned to face Lucanis, who stood by the round table in the center of the space. This table was the one the team gathered around to discuss their upcoming plans of action, and Lucanis was standing directly behind the chair Rook normally sat in. He had his hands placed lightly on the back of her chair, and she couldn’t help but picture him doing this while she sat in it. She yearned to have someone who would always stand protectively behind her when she let her guard down, so that she actually could let her guard down. Now was not the time for those types of girlish fantasies, however. Rook was a Grey Warden, a soldier who stood between darkness and the people of Thedas. She wasn’t some damsel that needed protection or saving, no matter how badly she sometimes wished she could be. With that thought in her mind, she answered Lucanis.

 “I’m headed to Dock Town. Morrigan wants to meet me to discuss some things before we face the gods. I’ll be fine going alone. It’ll be a quick jaunt to The Cobbled Swan, there shouldn’t be any huge dangers that I can’t handle on my own.” 

Rook put on her best “I’m tough, I don’t need anyone” face as she said this. If he insisted on accompanying her, she wouldn’t be able to say no to him. She should go into a meeting like this with Morrigan clear-headed and focused, and she had trouble being either of those things with the handsome Crow around. Of course, he couldn’t back off and make it easy for her.

“Danger finds you every time you leave this Lighthouse, Rook. You should have back-up. Give me a moment to grab my blades and I’ll come with you.”

She opened her mouth to turn him down and assure him that she would be just fine, when Lucanis cut her off.

“Don’t argue with me Rook, you know damn well that if anyone on this team heard you were planning to go alone, they’d insist at least one other person go with you. Harding and Neve would insist on two people accompanying you. I’m coming along, or I’m telling the others that you’re planning on going alone to Minrathous. Your choice.”

Rook’s green eyes narrowed at him for a moment before she sighed and threw herself down onto the small loveseat that Harding and Neve normally occupied for their meetings. This man is going to be the death of me, she thought to herself. She wasn’t nearly as upset about that as she wanted to be.

“Fine, you win. Hurry up though, Morrigan made it sound like it could be somewhat urgent. You know, world ending type stuff.” 

She said this last part lightly in an attempt to mask her growing anxiety about it. Rook was definitely concerned. Morrigan wasn’t one to exaggerate when it was important, and she had never requested Rook’s audience in such a pressing manner before. She knows something we don’t, and I don’t think I’m going to like it. A frown twisted her mouth again, and she was unable to school her expression back to a neutral one before Lucanis caught it. His brow furrowed as a twin frown appeared on his own face. He gave her that concerned look he got on his face when she seemed unhappy or worried. Instead of commenting further though, Lucanis simply gave her a nod in response and turned quickly on his heel to fetch his gear.

Rook watched his figure retreat and exit the main room before letting herself crumple a bit. Her shoulders sagged and she let out a frustrated sigh. She was too weak to refuse him anything, especially when she wanted him at her side pretty much constantly. Those warm brown eyes made her brain slow as all of her rational thoughts flew out the window. She wanted nothing more than for him to hold her to his chest so she could just sit and listen to the strong, steady beat of his heart. But she couldn’t allow herself those luxuries, nor could she afford to be distracted by her girlish affections for such a vital member of her team. Control Nyra. That’s always been your weak point. Control your emotions, don’t let them control you. Blindly following your heart is what has gotten you into your biggest messes. What happened at Weisshaupt can never be allowed to happen again. Your lack of focus and reactionary nature is what caused the Grey Wardens to go into battle without their First Warden at the helm.

Rook could still feel the phantom pain in her hand from the force that she had struck  First Warden Jowin down with that day. He had been a massive prick, but she had made a decision that had huge consequences for all of the Grey Wardens. And she had done so out of wild rage and frustration, not conscious thought. That wasn’t the kind of thing good leaders did. Varric never would have handled it that way. Her mentor would have talked the First Warden down and gotten him to cooperate willingly. He definitely wouldn’t have struck down his superior so hard his knuckles nearly broke.

“You chose wrong, Varric.” Rook whispered to herself quietly in the silence of the Lighthouse rotunda. “I’m not cut out to lead this team. I’m not fit to be the one holding the fate of Thedas.”

Rook heard someone clear their throat in front of her, and her eyes snapped up to meet Lucanis’s. Eyes wide, she opened and closed her mouth for a moment. How long has he been there?? The thought made her heart rate pick up. Had he heard her voice her doubts? That was not a good look for the supposed leader of the Veilguard. Luckily for her, Lucanis said nothing about her whispered comments to herself, and instead gestured towards the stairs behind her.

“Ready to go, Rook?” he asked, watching her closely but not with any hint of judgement. He was wearing his fighting leathers now, and had at least 4 blades strapped to his person. Rook knew that he absolutely had more hidden from view.

“Yeah, let’s get moving. If the world really is ending sooner than expected, we don’t have time to waste.”

With that, Rook got to her feet and held her chin up high as she purposefully strode down the stairs to the Eluvian room. Lucanis moved silently behind her, the only indication of his presence and proximity was the small hairs on the back of her neck prickling. Now focused and with the dutiful mind of a soldier once again, Rook led the way through the large mirror. Out of the frying pan, and into the fire, she and her silent companion ventured forth.

 *   *   *   *

The Crossroads were as calm and quiet as always, the only sound to be heard was a faint whisper on the wind coming from The Tree a few yards in front of them. Rook wasn’t actually sure what The Tree actually was or if it had a proper name. She had taken to calling it “The Tree” simply because it had one golden “trunk” that opened into golden branch looking pieces that formed a hollow sphere. Inside the branches was what appeared to be pure, swirling energy of The Fade. At the base, there stood three ancient, fossilized elvhen people with distressed expressions. Rook had never heard The Tree whispering before, that part was new to her. Cautiously, she took slow measured steps towards it until she could finally make out words. 

“You will have new subjects, in recompense. Whatever you wish.”

“Rook’s favorite Spite demon and its host. Wouldn’t it be so fitting if I gave him real wings to match his true demonic nature?He could be a masterpiece…”

“Inspired sister, consider it done.”

Rook ground her teeth so hard she thought they might shatter in her mouth. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, she thought, Those bastards. Rage coursed through her veins, hot as molten lava. They planned to hurt Lucanis, because of her. All because she had been far too obvious in her fondness for the man. Another person with a target because of her.

“I’d like to see her try.”

Rook heard his voice behind her, and then a more twisted, growling version spoke up.

“We will make her regret. She will die by Our hand. Soon”

The last word of Spite’s declaration was a violent hiss. When Rook turned to look at Lucanis behind her, his eyes had already returned to their warm, brown color. His expression however, was equally as murderous as she imagined it had been when Spite had spoken through him. 

“If she touches you, death will be the least of her concerns.” Rook spit the words from behind her still-gritted teeth. She wasn’t sure what her face looked like at that moment, but whatever emotion her expression held seemed to shock Lucanis a bit. Pink tinged the tops of his cheekbones and he cut his gaze to the side before chuckling lightly. 

“The gods are wrong to underestimate you Rook. With a fire like that in your eyes, you could bring dragons to heel.” Lucanis met her eyes again after these words, and now she was the one uncertain of what she saw in his piercing gaze.

She smiled ruefully in response. “I’m pretty sure Taash would disagree, but thank you Lucanis.”

The two of them then began the trip to the mirror that was connected to the one in the Shadow Dragon’s, now destroyed, base of operations. Neither of them spoke, but the silence was comfortable rather than awkward. Lucanis’s presence had a calming effect on her when she was out on missions, a fact she had momentarily forgotten in her lovesick panic earlier. It was good that he came with her, she felt more centered now than she had all day. The Caretaker’s boat finally pulled up to the dock they needed and Rook clambered out first with Lucanis close behind. They made their way across the small island to the Dock Town Eluvian. Stepping inside, Rook tried her best to prepare mentally for whatever Morrigan was going to tell her. Upon reaching the correct clearing, she and Lucanis stepped through the giant, rippling mirror. 

 One thing most people didn’t realize was that travelling via Eluvian took some serious getting used to. It still made Rook’s stomach flip every time she exited on the other side. Both sets of boots crunched as they came in contact with the rubble and debris covered floor on the other side of the portal. Lucanis seemed to read her mind, because before she could spiral into her pit of blame and self-hatred at the sight, he spoke firmly to her back.

“It isn’t your fault Rook. It was an impossible choice, and not many people have the nerve to even have made it at all. You aren’t to blame for every tragedy the gods have caused, and beating yourself up doesn’t bring the dead back to life.”

Curse him for being kind AND correct. Rook wanted to scowl at him, but she knew he was right. It didn’t help anyone to continue to blame herself every time something went wrong or someone got hurt. Knowing that he spoke the truth didn’t make it any easier to swallow though. She wasn’t sure the wounds those decisions left her with would ever completely fade. Scars were permanent reminders of the past. They were undeniable evidence of both victories, and losses. Instead of responding, Rook just nodded her head and continued forward into the ruined city. She had somewhere to be.

Rook made an effort to keep her eyes averted from the weeks-old bodies that had been left hanging on the Venatori’s makeshift execution stands. It wasn’t easy, they littered every street corner and filled the squares. Even if she could avoid seeing them, their presence was undeniable and unavoidable. The bodies of innocent citizens filled the air with the sickeningly sweet, rotting, scent of decomposition. Bile filled her mouth as Rook swatted flies from her face. The flies in Dock Town were another indicator of the atrocities the city had undergone. The insects swarmed the corpses, giving the impression of black clouds hanging low in the streets. Their irritating buzzing became a drone in the background of every thought and spoken word. Rook truly hated every second she spent on these ruined streets, and that made her feel even worse. She had the audacity to hate the aftermath of the devastation that had befallen Minrathous because she had defended Treviso instead. Grimacing from the sting of those thoughts paired with the foul sights and smells, Rook forced her legs to continue moving as she numbly made her way to The Cobbled Swan. 

Lucanis could clearly see that Rook was deeply upset and disturbed, and he hated that she had to be here. Though, the fact that she blamed herself was something he hated even more. She carries too much and relies on others too little. Then again, he thought darkly, I am guilty of the same things and I hate it when she points it out. With that thought in mind, he said nothing about her mood shift and simply followed her towards their destination. He knew the weight of guilt, and was familiar with the way it seemed to curl around one’s very soul. It wasn’t an easy thing to let go of. 

After about a 10 minute walk, Rook and Lucanis reached the tavern. Rook let out a sigh of relief at the excuse to get off the streets and hurried up the stairs to get inside. She could see Morrigan waiting for her at a table off to the side, and turned to Lucanis. 

“Could you wait here while I speak to her? She asked for me and I’m not sure what she wants to say is meant for an audience.” Rook felt bad for making him stand across the room while she met with Morrigan, but she had the feeling that this was going to be a conversation meant to be had with her alone.

Lucanis bobbed his head in the affirmative and said, “It’s not a problem Rook. I’ll wait near the door. Spite wants to people-watch anyway.” He rolled his eyes with the last part of his statement and Rook couldn’t help but laugh a little. Spite’s curiosity and non-understanding of human behavior was one of her favorite things to witness these days. Well, outside of Lucanis cooking with sleeves rolled up and a serene look on his face. That was her favorite thing.

“Thanks Lucanis.” Rook spoke in a relieved tone before turning and walking towards Morrigan’s still form at the last table. Just as she was coming up behind the witch, Morrigan began speaking.

“Thank you for coming quickly, Rook. It is best that the things I am about to say are spoken before the last part of your battle begins.”

Rook swallowed down her nerves and took the seat opposite of Morrigan. Rook’s vibrant eyes were suddenly alight with a fire she felt deep in her soul. Time to get serious. “Alright Morrigan, what do you know, and how much time do we actually have left?”

Part 3 Coming Soon!

(It may not be tomorrow, but soon!)

Part 1 here!

[moutainrusing]

clandestine

850 words, @pandalilymicrofics

They’d decorated the room – it was a ballroom – but Pandora didn’t like to call it that, so it was the room. The wide, high-vaulted room in the centre of her family’s house – the Rosier mansion – but Pandora didn’t like to call it that, either. She just wanted to call it a house. A home. That sounded sad. She wasn’t, though. She was just wanting.

Wanting more than mahogany walls of gilded gold, flames flickering in the candelabras that lined the edges, chains constructed with every colour of rose swirling around archways draped with gauzy satin curtains, gleaming hardwood which looked more like a lake than the floor. Pandora could see her reflection in it as she descended the spiral staircase, running her fingers over the fine figures etched into the rosewood handrail. Her dress was sweeping, gilded like the stupid walls, tiny spiderwebs threaded across ivory silk, except they weren’t spiderwebs, because that’d be eerie, not suitable for the ballroom. It was just a room. And Pandora’s dress was just a dress. Gilded with gold.

Flowers. The pattern was flowers.

Letting her fingers linger over smoothly carved loops in the stairway railing, Pandora trailed slowly into the room, brushing the tips of her nails against the rail one last time before finally letting go, even though the direction she wanted to go was right back up the stairs, turn a left, flop into bed.

Instead, she continued walking with her head high, over a sea of tiles before eventually reaching her brother, leaning against an arch in the corner, twirling a cigar between his fingers. Smoke spilled out of his mouth as he drawled, “Put your mask on, Dora.”

Pandora wrinkled her nose. “I hate masquerade balls. They’re time waste. I don’t want to dance with a man. I can’t even see his face, it’s a useless way of trying to find suitors.”

Evan side-eyed her, drawing another drag before exhaling, “If you can’t see his face, then how’d you know he’s a man?”

Rolling her eyes, Pandora gestured to herself, “Only men would dance with this girl in a dress.”

Evan shrugged, kicked off the arch and dropped his cigar into an ashtray, nodding his head toward the entrance, “Guests are coming. You should put the mask on.”

Sighing, Pandora pulled her mask out from the folds of her dress, pressing it over her face. It moulded to her features. A gold-white butterfly, hovering above the flowers.

- - -

The man that danced with Pandora didn’t look like a man. There was a curve to his hips beneath the suit, a rosy flush to his upturned lips, and this was the first suitor Pandora had ever wanted to kiss. He couldn’t be a man. (She didn’t want to kiss men.)

Gradually, she manoeuvred the dance towards the corner of the room, and was the man steering too? It seemed he was guiding them in the same direction that Pandora was, past the archways, down the corridor, into dimly lit rooms that became darker the more they traversed, until they were still, hidden within the towering maze of bookshelves in the library. For the first time in her life, Pandora’s gut wouldn’t tell her what to do. Whether to run or whether to crack the mask off the man’s face, open him as if he were a box, delve her hands into the contents within and find out why he made her feel, or should she run, because he made her feel, twisting her heartstrings, tying them into a noose, strangling her voice until her throat was dry. This could be manipulation. Alone with a man who could do anything to her…

A clandestine encounter shrouded within musty pages of literature.

She ripped the man’s— the woman’s mask off. A gasp caught in Pandora’s throat, stuttered past her lips, “Lily?”

She’d wanted to kiss Lily. Lily? She hadn’t known it was her village friend when she was eyeing the lips behind the mask, that was the only reason she’d even looked at the lips, because Pandora wasn’t meant to look at a woman’s lips. She wasn’t, in case she ever wanted… to stop herself wanting. She wasn’t allowed. But now she’d looked, and she couldn’t get them out of the forefront of her mind, and now Lily was smiling at her, shyly, sheepishly, “Hi, Pan.”

“How did you…?” Pandora weakly gestured to Lily’s suit, Lily’s presence, the entire inconceivable fact that Lily, poor, working-class, out-of-town Lily, was here.

Lily tentatively raised her fingers to thumb the edges of Pandora’s mask, gently removing it and flitting her gaze across Pandora’s face, “I wanted to see you.”

Pandora wanted to kiss her. She swallowed, the words bubbled back up. “You… courted me,” she muttered, staring at the floor, “The way a… suitor would.”

A hand beneath her chin, lifting it until she was greeted by the sight of Lily quirking an eyebrow. “And? What’s your answer?”

Pandora couldn’t contain it. She kissed her. It was so much more than how subconsciously, pushed to the back of her mind, Pandora had imagined it would be.

[orions-choker]

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Serial Killers, Murder, Obsessions, Yandere tendencies, more to be added.

Chapter Eight

“You really think right now is the most important time to be taking me on this date?” Y/N asked with a soft huff as Kirk’s hand rested in the crook of her elbow, guiding her down the cracked pavement. The streets were dead as usual lately. She missed back in high school when things were lively downtown, filled with raucous laughter from teenagers and the disgruntled mumblings of the annoyed elderly. She felt almost stupid being out here.

Kirk smiled down at her, her eyes catching on the small sharp crooked tooth that nestled between his canine and front teeth. A flush warmed her cheeks, he was impossibly cute. “Y/N you can’t completely shut down your life, who knows how long it's going to be until they catch this creep you can't hide forever.” He said in an attempt to be encouraging. But she could, she could hide forever if she tried hard enough probably. “And I promised you I was taking you on a date.”

She could crawl into her parents bed, nestled between them the way she used to when she was six with her dog in her arms, have them protect her from the cruel intentions of the world outside. Hell based on the way the streets looked right now that's what most people were doing. Kirk seemed ever fearless though, she couldn't tell if she was impressed or unsettled by the way he just…didn’t seem to care about all of this. “Yeah well, going to see a horror movie right now seems like a bit of a tone deaf date idea don’t you think?” She asked, her eyes wearily glazed over a missing person poster tacked to one of the telephone poles. It was one of many, this girl had been found…she supposed her parents didn’t have the strength to come take it down.

The grip Kirk had on her arm tightened slightly as they approached the movie theatre. “Well that’s why we're going in the middle of the day, won't be scary that way.” He said nonchalantly, frowning playfully at her. “It’s a creature feature anyways, not remotely the same.” He waved his hand dismissively as he approached the teller and began purchasing their tickets.

“That’s not what I meant.” Y/N mumbled wearily as Kirk shoved an oversized popcorn into her hands. She could appreciate his carefree attitude only in the sense that it distracted her. But she was getting uncomfortable with his increasing lack of care for the situation at hand. She remembered when she first approached him in his backyard just a few weeks ago, how mature he had seemed, the way he had expressed his condolences to the victims.

She was coming to realize he was a lot less mature than he acted, she found it hard to believe that he was older than her. It was something about the way he was always smiling at her, always laughing under his breath like there was an inside joke she wasn’t in on. To top it off, his insistence that they go on this date worried her. She liked Kirk, she liked him a lot actually but dating was the last thing on her mind.

He had simply ignored her protests as they shuffled into the dark theatre. It was empty and cold, that didn't surprise her. Who in their right mind went to see a horror movie in the middle of your neighbors being slaughtered like cattle. Her and Kirk she supposed, though she wasn’t quite sure either of them were in their right mind at this point. Kirk seemed to flip on the drop of a dime between overwhelmingly playful to almost scary. She hadn’t missed the possessive primal look in his eyes when he didn’t think she was looking.

Initially it had excited her, made her feel a bit warm and fuzzy to think he was that interested in her. “Relax baby, I got you, remember?” He leaned over to whisper in her ear, noticing the tension in her shoulders. He didn’t really need to whisper no one else was in here. Maybe she was a little messed up in the head in the fact that it seemed to comfort her. She leaned her head against his shoulder as the lights from the screen began to illuminate their faces.

Suddenly Kirk's hand was on her cheek, guiding her face up towards him as he pressed his lips to hers. Her whole body went limp as she kissed him back. She had quickly grown addicted to these metallic cigarette flavored kisses. She pushed up the arm rest in between their seats that had been separating them as she leaned further into him. Yeah she was messed up, making out with him in this empty theatre to the backdrop of blood curdling screams and monstrous growls. She pulled back with a soft gasp. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here, pretty sure they have cameras in here.” She whispered.

Kirk was looking at her with a flush to his cheeks, his eyes dark and lidded. There was an almost aggressive curl to his fingers against her hip. “What, it’s not like there's anything illegal about kissing.” He grunted softly as he tugged her closer. “That's all this is baby, it's okay c’mere.” His lips ghosted across hers once more. She couldn’t deny the thick sweet desperation lacing his voice. Y/N climbed into his lap a little awkwardly, restricted by the size of the theatre seats. Her hands cupped the back of his neck as she kissed him fervently.

His fingers dug almost painfully into her skin as he slid his hands up beneath her sweater, his blunt nails leaving indents in her flesh. She hissed softly against his lips but didn’t dare pull away. She almost choked as Kirk pushed his tongue into her mouth and down her throat. A soft needy whine coiled up from her throat, drowned between the soft smacking of their lips together. Her lips were swollen and bruised by the time the end credits to the movie rolled. The only thing interrupting the two of them was the brightening of the theatre lights.

Hesitantly Y/N crawled off him, leaning down to rub at her cramping calves. She watched as Kirk not so subtly adjusted himself in his jeans, his hand slipping beneath the waistband to tug his hardened length up flat against his stomach so it was less noticeable. It was lewd, the movements and her mouth went dry. “You should wash your hands after touching your dick.” She chastised him instead.

He blinked at her and laughed, a sweet airy sound. She was completely enamored with him in spite of his…concerning behavior. “You serious Y/N?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they left the empty theatre back out into the lobby. “Did you wash your mouth out after you sucked me off the other night?” He whispered teasingly to her.

“What!” She sputtered, looking up at him with wide eyes. An embarrassed flush rising to her cheeks. “I- Yes I did!” She protested softly as he continued to laugh at her. “Oh my god Kirk you can’t just say things like that.” She covered her face in embarrassment, as if the two pathetic workers in the building could possibly hear the conversation they were having right now.

There was a soft kiss planted on her temple as Kirk’s laughter died down. ”Jesus Y/N calm down you look you’re about to combust.” He shook his head, his wild dark curls bouncing softly. “You don’t have to be so shy around me, as cute as it is.” He pressed her closer against his side as they made their way back to his car. “How about we get takeout and head back to my place.”

As Y/N slid into his passenger seat she eyes his glove box wearily. She wondered if that knife was still in there. The silver gleam still fresh in her mind…why did he keep that in his car. Self defense seemed highly unlikely who keeps a butcher's knife for self defense. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I don’t know Kirk, I think my parents want me back home, I’ve been at yours all weekend.” She sighed. Since that phone call two nights ago she had been spending the night at Kirks. Her parents were less than pleased but were comforted by the fact at least she was right next door, they couldn't really do much to stop her anyways.

Kirk had a tight grip on her thigh as he started the car. “You don’t have to spend the night again, just…hang out with me a little longer. This is a date is it not?” He grunted, he was trying to keep it playful but she could hear the genuine aggravated tone in his voice. This was a date she supposed, a bit of a…odd one. She hadn’t even really agreed to it, kirk had sort of just woken her up and insisted she come with him.

“Yeah, okay.” Y/N relented with a soft sigh as she relaxed beneath his touch, his fingers grinding into the soft flesh of her thigh through her jeans. His touches were always so hard and aggressive, his kisses soft and fleeting. It was a balance she was struggling to figure out. “I think I just want a drink, I don’t have much of an appetite lately.” She rested her head back against the seat.

It was hard to miss the way Kirk's face lit up as she agreed to stick around him a bit longer. She didn’t really pay attention to where he had stopped to get food. Her eyes were trained on his figure as he disappeared into the shop. Quickly she leaned forward popping open the glove box. There it was tucked in the back beneath his insurance papers. Her hand gripped the handle gingerly as she tugged it forward to get a better look, It was discolored along the razor sharp edge, it almost looked rusty.

A sick feeling settled its way into the pit of her stomach. She flipped it over a couple of times in her hand. Why was…Her eyes caught sight of something else, an earring? She pushed the knife back beneath the papers, nestled into its poorly concealed hiding place. She pinched the silver hoop between her fingers and closed the glove box once more. Kirk has his ears pierced sure but this was unmistakably a woman's earring. A large glimmering silver hoop, she laid it flat in her palm as she stared down at it.

It wasn’t hers, she knew that much. Kirk’s moms maybe? She didn’t ever recall seeing the woman wear anything quite like this before though. An ex fling, a random hookup? For some reason that thought made her stomach twist even more uncomfortably. Why did Kirk have this, why did he have that knife. She jumped lightly as she heard the driver door open again, her hand quickly clasping around the earring as she looked up at Kirk with a surprised smile.

“Woah, jumpy much?” He teased her, placing the plastic takeout bags in her lap. Her heart was hammering wildly beneath her ribcage, she had almost been caught snooping again, she could remember the way he snapped at her when she opened his glovebox the last time. “You good?” he asked a little softer this time, noticing the distant look on her face.

Quickly Y/N shook her head, snapping herself out of the daze. “Oh yeah I’m fine, sorry just zoned out while you were gone.” She lied quickly as she smiled brightly at him. She could feel the silver hoop burning against her skin, reminding her of its presence in her fist. It felt heavy, like it carried the weight of hundreds of sins, she couldn’t let go of it. Discreetly she slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans. “Thanks for the milkshake.”

Kirk hummed and nodded. “Mhm, got you Oreo, your favorite.” He smiled, his hand returning to its rightful place on her thigh, like it belonged there, like he owned it. Oreo was her favorite, she didn’t know how he knew that though. She was almost positive it had never come up. It was almost an undetectable slip up, but she was hyper aware. Something was seriously wrong, with all of this, with Kirk. She should have been scared, should have pried a little further into him before she had gotten so comfortable with his presence. But instead she relaxed under his touch and looked up at him softly and she smiled.

“Yeah, it is my favorite.”

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 7.4 - You Can't Go Home

Mortals always ran.

Fear driving them forward.

Even as they forgot to look around.

Fuckin’ idiots.

“I-I can get the money. I just need more time!” the sim pleads once he’s cornered. “Tell Jacques I got a deal that can’t fail!”

It can fail. It probably already has. But Akira isn’t worried about the sim who was stupid enough to borrow from the Devil.

He's worried about the pack of goblins watching the whole exchange with hunger in their eyes. 

As they close in, he speeds over to cut them off. “This one ain’t for eating, in case you was getting ideas.”

“We could share, elf-friend,” one of them offers. “Broken bones and fresh meat, a delicacy.”

Hunger curls in his stomach. If sims knew even half the things the fae considered delicacies they would stop making TV shows depicting them as bloodless aristocrats. “Get your dinner somewhere else," he warns.

It’s not the answer the goblins want. They lunge, and he draws a sword from a liminal pocket he usually hides with his glamour. 

When he’s done slicing through them, he hefts it over his shoulder and calls out to JJ. “We done here?”

“Yeah,” the wolf holds up a stack of bloody simoleons, “Santiago’s coming to make sure he gets home. Can’t collect payments from a dead man. You wanna hit up Elixirs and Brews?”

Akira was in no mood for Glimmerbrook. With the Moon Revelry coming, Elves would be out in full force cavorting with witches and he really didn’t need the dirty looks or snide comments. 

Plus, he had other plans.

“I got something to do," he glances back at the goblins. A few slices of the sword wasn't enough to put them down. "Don’t let Santiago leave until those motherfuckers find their way out the park.” 

"Sure thing," JJ waggles his brows, “And I would pick Cora over drinks with me, too. Tell her I said hi."

Akira arrives at the Straud Family Compound in seconds. He’s in enemy territory, but if he doesn’t want to be seen, he won’t be. 

The Strauds were an anomaly in the world of organized crime. Julia didn’t move in territory beyond her own, and even though it’s clear her cannabis was the best in Sim Nation West, she doesn’t deal with anyone outside of local sims. Even Jacques has to get his supply from her secondhand. 

No, the Strauds weren't ambitious but they protected their home with viciousness of raptors, hence the stupidity of hiding out in it.

Not that the stupidity was stopping him. He didn't lie when he told Jacques he'd be crazy to get close to Vlad's family of maniacs. Akira felt crazy.

Earlier, he'd watched Vlad struggle to feed a batch of chickens and an enchanted rooster, though it was clear Vlad didn't know it was enchanted since he tried to take it on with a hatchet.

His whole family gathered to watch the fight; his grandmother even took bets.

Vladislaus got his ass kicked. Trained killer he may be, but no one could best an enchanted rooster, and certainly not one straight from the netherworld. 

Akira was still laughing and feeling a little wistful.

Changelings weren't rare. It's why fae were born with their glamour firmly in place. The hard part was figuring out how to drop the cover and reveal your true features.

And to be a changeling was to live by trial and error. He still remembered the first time he thanked a classmate and wound up bound to their will for half the school year. 

Since then, Akira had carefully ordered his life. Friendships never got too deep. Relationships didn't either.

But Alice and Vlad feel like home.

She’s all sunshine and fire with curls Akira wants to tug and lips he wants to bite. And Vlad is compelling but dangerous. Fae-like. Even bruised with a black eye he’s so unnaturally pretty that his features seem to be arranged wrong. The temptation is...visceral, almost binding.

Before he can give into it, Akira pulls his magic close and lets it vibrate near the center of his chest.

In an instant, he’s gone.

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(Part 4 of 4)

[estrellami-1]

Lavender Letters

Part 9

“Dingus!” Robin exclaims, bursting into the kitchen. “Thank God, you’re dressed, I need help.”

“Why’d you come in if you thought I wouldn’t be dressed?”

She waves him off. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you naked. Steve.” She grabs his shoulders, eyes wide. “I’m pretty sure both Vickie and Chrissy are flirting with me and I don’t know what to do.”

“Flirt back?” Steve suggests.

“But I’m terrible at flirting! You’ve seen me flirt! Save me!” She exclaims, shaking him.

“Vickie seems nice, but do you know her at all?” Eddie asks. “Why do you like her?”

Robin pauses to look at him. “That’s a good point. I don’t really know either of them, though. Do you?”

“I’ve met Vickie before. Sweet, but kind of… going through the motions, y’know? She doesn’t really seem to actually like much. Or have much of an opinion on anything.”

“And Chrissy?”

“I know her a bit better,” Eddie admits. “We met at the middle school talent show. I was with my band, and she was doing a cheer routine. She gave me a piece of gum and told me to picture everyone naked if I got nervous.” He grins at them. “We never really hung out, per se, but we got to know each other better. She’s really sweet, super passionate about cheer. From what I’ve heard she’s a decent singer, too.”

“Better than Tammy Thompson?”

“Tammy Thompson sounds like a muppet,” Eddie tells Steve, who bursts out laughing. Robin does too. “Actually, I’m pretty sure muppets are better singers than she is.” He shakes his head. “Yes, Chrissy is a better singer than Tammy Thompson.”

“And she likes singing?” Robin questions.

Eddie laughs. “Go ask her about it! I don’t really know her that well.” He picks up his and Steve’s waters and ushers them both out of the kitchen, dropping Steve’s water in his hand and pulling him by the hand the rest of the way to the living room.

He drops Steve’s hand and jumps onto the coffee table, winking at Steve as he does. “Attention, please!” He cries, grinning at everyone when they turn to look at him. “I’d like to give a very special thanks to the man who put this on for us.” He holds out a hand for Steve. “I’d also like to request we make this a tradition and keep it going. We’re not going anywhere, and we deserve the space to show it! So I propose we give it a name, and it’s only fitting the name comes from the one who began it.” He smiles at Steve. “The floor is yours.”

“Oh,” Steve says, blushing. “I- I don’t know, I’m not good at naming things.”

Eddie hums. “Maybe we’ll name it after you, then?” Steve shakes his head. “No, not your name, exactly. I’m thinking…” he cocks his head to the side. “What color is your suit?”

Steve looks down at himself. “Lavender?”

Eddie grins, throws his arms out wide. “Lavender prom! Where anyone can dance with anyone!”

“Lavender prom!” Nancy agrees, holding her drink up.

“Lavender prom!” Chrissy joins her.

“Lavender prom!” Robin parrots, blushing when Chrissy beams at her.

“Lavender prom!” Jonathan and Vickie chorus.

“Lavender prom,” Steve agrees with a smile, stepping up onto the table with Eddie. Everyone cheers, and Eddie points to Robin with a grin.

“Music!”

She turns it on, and Eddie twirls Steve out, laughing. “This is all thanks to you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs when he reels Steve back in.

Steve hums, anchors himself with a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Steve shrugs a shoulder. “For humoring my letters. For responding. For not caring who I am.”

“Back up,” Eddie says kindly. “I do care who you are. I don’t care who you pretended to be.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but smiles. “Okay, that, then.” He falls silent for a second, searching Eddie’s face. “And for keeping this going?” He waves the hand holding his bottle around, and Eddie grins.

“I did suggest this continue, didn’t I? And it makes sense. I talked with Principal Higgins a few weeks ago.” He works his lip. “I’m not graduating.”

“Next year,” Steve says. “And you’ve got us, now. If Nancy can’t get you out of there, no one can.”

Eddie snickers. “I’ll give her a run for her money, that’s for sure.”

“She’ll win,” Steve tells him. “And you’ll graduate. And… we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Hell yeah we will,” Eddie murmurs. “‘86, baby. It’s my year.”