#capri is kind of hard to draw. man

[bluebeerg]

Putting the capri- in Capri Flexor with Capri as a goat!

...and putting the Capri in Capricorn with. um.. with, well..

me and my three weight-lifting chipmunks + makeup explanation under the cut.

my three weight-lighting chipmunks:

and now to Capri's makeup... I know it's not really clown-ish, which is Gamzee's whole schtick, but hey .. i love the meaning just that much more

First off, with "Double Jump", "Roll", and "Airdash". All that came from their respective signs, with the only things on them that isn't the character and the movement lines, which is where "Movement" comes from.

The “Tech Roll/Long Jump” sparkle comes from the sparkle that emits from the player when Tech Rolling (that is, a special fast move performed by Airdashing close to the ground then Rolling) or just Long Jumping in midair fhdsjk

"Jumping, I guess" comes from the yellow circle that appears below the player to help them see where they're landing. It's not really anything, if anything, it's nothing. I just wanted something there because Gamzee has something there. It used to be a sort of wedge-shape as a nod to that Damned Wedge, but nah. Capri has nothing to do with that thing .. kind of the opposite, really fhdskj

[natriae]

cw// gojo x reader, traditional-ish feminine views, fem! reader, angst, extremely self indulgent

"wow, y/n you're so much taller then Nobara!" Yuji excitedly states after meeting you. You can't help but compare him to young child not a teenager, especially not a teenager with a literal demon in him. You smile at his statement knowing he meant it to be nice. "you're taller then me!" He gleefully continues after standing next to you.

Your boyfriend, Gojo, moves to rest his elbow on the teen's shoulder. "Yeah, she's handsome right ." Gojo says smirking. You'd think with all his mighty power he'd realize how much that statement bothers you. Stinging more when Yuji giggles and agrees.

Later that day the two of you head out to dinner with Megumi. The three of you move to sit at a small bench while waiting for your table. In your peripherals you can see Gojo whispering to Megumi and giggling, however, Megumi is not at all delighted at his comment. Looking up you notice a few people's eyes drawing down to your legs. Your pants have ridden up to the point they obviously aren't supposed to be capris. You take a deep breath and attempt to pull the pant legs down as much as you can while attempting to hide the uncomfortable amount of your shin showing. While Gojo sinkers at your awkwardness Megumi hands you his jacket to cover your legs with. Looking around the city you see plently of women who actually look like women. At least to society's standards. They're short and cute. Everyone loves them. Your sure Satoru does too.

Opening the door to the bathroom you notice a average height, beautiful girl reapplying her lipstick. Everything you've ever wanted to be. The kind of girl a boy likes. Looking into the mirror you feel to masculine to be a girl. You don't have those soft feminine features no matter how hard you try. No matter how much makeup you apply it's all just lipstick on a pig. Taking a deep breath and fixing your hair you rejoin Satoru and Megumi outside.

One the walk home your attention gets drawn to couple across the street. The man holding his girlfriend bridal style while she snuggles into his chest. Turning your attention back to your boyfriend you ask, "why don't you ever carry me like that?" immediately regretting it after.

"come on you don't want that~" He responds drawing out the end of his sentence. " it would look weird. Your body is so long." He smiles, turning back to look in front of him. You gaze falls to your feet as your hand loosens from his hold.

"yeah you're right" you respond quietly. Another hand grasps yours and holds on tight. You don't need to look up to know it's Megumi. Reminding you he's there to protect you.

nari note: this is just something I've been dealing with recently especially with the amount of short reader fics that have appeared on my timeline.

[deripmaver]

Griffith, Sex, and Power

Feat. a brief special guest: Laurent of Vere from Captive Prince (spoilers, and of course canon typical content warnings for both Berserk and Capri)!

Ok time for a complete 180 from all my Berserk meta posts so far hahahah. Probably this is one that’s been made before, but I wanted to take a crack at it possibly from a different angle than before. This’ll be just sort of a ramble, no panels ‘cause those panels make me sad and I don’t want to go looking for them.

In CS Pacat’s Captive Prince, Laurent of Vere was directly inspired by Griffith from Berserk. Part of what allows the audience to forgive him for the sexual violence he causes Damen is when we learn that said abuse is just being replicated from his own experiences. Laurent has learned by being abused as a teenager that sex and power are intrinsically linked (as he says to Damen, his perception of sex is that it occurs “as a man takes a boy”), and so when the man who killed his brother (and lead to his abuse in the first place by leaving him with his uncle) is put in front of him, the ways he dominates and reasserts power over him come from his own sexual trauma.

It’s not hard to see how this characterization draws from Griffith. As a young teenager, he is given the “choice” (which isn’t really a choice at all) to make money to sustain his dream by winning battles, and thereby sending his followers to their deaths, or by prostituting himself to Gennon. As far as we know with what’s given to us in canon, up until he sleeps with Princess Charlotte this is his only sexual experience - purely transactional, a show of power from those who have it forced upon those who do not have it. 

When Griffith has sex, in Princess Charlotte’s case, or... commits sexual assault, in Casca’s case (twice), it’s not a coincidence it happens at moments where he feels at his lowest and most powerless. It’s ALSO not a surprise that he replicates the dynamics he’s familiar with during these sexual encounters. With Charlotte, he goes to see her to regain a sense of control and authority after Guts leaves, and during that encounter she expresses uncertainty at the beginning, outright saying no before eventually just kind of submitting to it. This encounter I think falls into somewhat of a gray area of fictional consent, because we see ultimately Charlotte happy with it, and thinking only fondly of it in later chapters, but it’s undeniable it’s coercive and considering how the whole thing is framed vs the sex between Guts and Casca is framed, I think the discomfort is intentional. 

Then, of course, with Casca, these encounters are outright sexual assault and rape. Again, it’s not a coincidence that these happen when Griffith is feeling completely shattered, completely without power, at rock fucking bottom. It’s heavily implied that some of Griffith’s torture was sexual in nature, if not outright rape though considering how much rape of women there is in Berserk I’ll forever be pissed as hell that Miura didn’t bother to show any of that happening to an (adult) male character if that is what he intended. 

So now, as far as what’s been shown in canon, Griffith’s sexual experience is underage prostitution, coercive sex with Charlotte, and now possibly rape combined with torture. After this, he assaults Casca in the wagon (only stopping because he physically can’t go through with it due to his injuries) and when he’s able to move again as Femto, rapes her. Rape is fully about power, and to Griffith sex is about power in general, and the eclipse to me is a very clear show from Griffith that he’s the one with power, he’s the one whose will the world bends to, and he needs to reassert that power over everyone. 

As an aside, it’s very interesting to me that in those moments of powerlessness, the people he uses to reassert his own power aren’t the men who have taken from him, but women. I mean, during the eclipse he’s hurting Casca to get at Guts, but like... He doesn’t rape Guts LOL when he easily could. I’m sure most of that is just Miura not wanting to draw sex (even if it’s rape) between adult men, but taking a more meta view, it replicates power dynamics and hierarchies of misogyny and oppression in the real world in an interesting way.

Griffith, as a character, knows what it is to be powerless, and is desperately climbing for more and more power throughout the story of Berserk to never experience that again. However, in doing so, he becomes the same as the oppressive nobles who hurt him, and once you accept that hierarchy it chips away at any intrinsic sense of justice you may have. This hasn’t come up again since his rebirth, but it will be interesting to see what his reaction will be if something happens that does shake his absolute authority over humanity, and what he’ll do about it. I think that moment might be coming up sooner than we expect.

[airadam]

Episode 177 : Like Clockwork.

"Rockin' and rollin' like the myth of Sisyphus..."

- Anthony Cruz

More than any other month in the year, February is the one where we remember some of the greats that have passed on; as such, this mix includes tracks from J Dilla, De La Soul (RIP Dave), Big L, and Big Pun. The average ruggedness level is high, and we start off with a classic sample being used on a remix you might not know...volume up!

Mastodon : @airadam@mastodon.me.uk

Twitch : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Slum Village : We Be Dem (Atomic Dog Mix)

"Atomic Dog" is one of the most heavily-used samples in Hip-Hop, and with good reason - even in novice hands it sounds good, and with someone like J Dilla in charge, it sounds amazing! He has it twitching on the three on a beat it's impossible not to move to, and on the mics, the crew don't get too complex. It's only a short one, which I got on a white label of unreleased Slum Village cuts, but I think you can find it these days on some of the digital platforms. In my opinion, this mix wins over the original version!

The ARE : OH

You can hear the sound of a well-known Michael Jackson cut being atomised and reconfigured on this killer from the "Dem Damb Jacksons" instrumentals, which punches so hard that you realise why the track title is in upper case! The whole project, as you might guess from the name, is all MJ and Jackson 5 samples, worked to perfection by the man from Houston who you may also know as a member of K-Otix. 

De La Soul ft. Yummy Bingham : Much More

A single that deserved to be so as a standout from "The Grind Date", this starts off with an uncredited guest appearance by the DJ Premier questioning the commitment of some to the the Hip-Hop culture, before passing to the late great Dave (aka Trugoy) to handle the opening verse. "Using these minutes like I value the call" is a great analogy for an MC who understood more than many how important it is to say something when you have the platform to do so. J Dilla's beat is grand and imposing, and his re-pitching of the main sample as used in the hook wrong-foots you - it was originally sung by a man, but sounds like a woman by the time he's finished with it!

Sol Uprising ft. Emanon : Feel The Sound

Somehow I'd "played past" this one over and over again, due to it sharing a slab of vinyl with the incredible "Raach Ya Sol" on the 2004 "They Don't Know" 12", but having stumbled on it while shortlisting for this month, I think I need to find more places to play it! Sol Uprising is the union of Sci the MC and the awesome Stacy Epps, who is towards the top of my list of "Musicians I Wish Had Released More Material". Alongside them here are Emanon, with Exile (who you might know better for his work with Blu) on production, and Aloe Blacc on the mic. It's the records like this, the ones that slip under the radar, the ones that you sometimes take a chance on, that really make a DJ's record collection.

L.E.G.A.C.Y : More

Legacy strides over this cut from the "Legsclusives" album with so much confidence that you can't help but love it! 9th Wonder's beat from the heyday of the Justus League initially draws you in with the short sample that repeats throughout and his swinging drum track (with a different snare/clap than you might have expected), but that sneaky low bass really anchors it.

Kid Capri ft. Big Pun and NORE : Block Party

Big Pun is regarded as one of the greats in spite of him unfortunately passing away without a huge amount of recordings - his impact was that powerful. It's always a joy to realise you have a feature by him that might not be known to many, and so we land on this collab alongside fellow Latino New Yorker Noreaga, with the legendary Kid Capri on production. "Soundtrack To The Streets", on which this appears, was Kid Capri's 1998 album where he handled things behind the boards and brought in an all-star cast on the mics - being a DJ with his kind of pedigree, there were a lot of people he could call! 

Otis McDonald : One For Dilla

This could happily be played anytime, but as we're paying tribute to J Dilla this month then it's a perfect inclusion for the current episode. You can definitely hear the influence throughout, even as it builds from an initial relatively chilled loop to a more energetic second section before settling down again. This is great work from the "Summer" album.

NEMS, Uncle Murda, Dave East, Scram Jones : NY Is Killing Me

"City workers give up twenty years of they life and still can't afford to pay a mortgage in the Five Boroughs..." It's raw, it's abrasive, and it has a point! You might have missed this one from last year, but this Scram Jones-produced single has Coney Islands' NEMS and guests expressing their frustrations with life in modern day New York City. It's like a rawer, more serious version of J-Zone's "Bullshit City", which the longtime listeners will have heard back on episode 11!

DJ Muggs & Meyhem Lauren : Ready For War

There are many things I love about this track, one of the more specific being the sampled vehement assertions regarding the cost of the sound system :) Of course, the production from Muggs is dark and heavy as per usual and the man on the mic is one of my favourite MCs, Meyhem Lauren! The third in the series of Soul Assassins LPs was another star-studded affair that spawned a companion short film shot in the actual Death Valley - and that in turn spawned an original score from which this track is drawn.

Buccaneer : Bad Man Story

A dancehall classic that's been getting a lot of play from me recently, a gunman anthem on the Baddis riddim that can move any dance! This 1998 release is on "Da Opera" LP, which is well worth a listen, as well as being a big single and also popping up in the Jamaican crime film "Third World Cop".

Blak Twang : Online

Bringing it to the UK for the last tune in the segment, and one I hadn't played at all for a long time - long enough that only after recording did I catch a line that I felt more comfortable censoring. From the third Blak Twang LP "Kik Off" (following the originally-unreleased "Dettwork South East" and "19 Long Time", Tony Rotton gets busy on a Preemo-influenced Harry Love track.

Nicolay : The Specialist (Instrumental)

The Dutch master himself has blessed us via the medium of modern digital distribution with a collection of his old unreleased instrumentals, "Nice Chops - The Dutch Schultz Tapes 2004-2008", which absolutely still stand up today. You can hear his more contemporary material as a soloist and as part of The Foreign Exchange, but this is a great bit of nostalgia and part of a wider set of releases celebrating twenty years of Nicolay's music.

Method Man ft. Raekwon : Meth vs. Chef

Easily one of my favourite cuts from "Tical", Meth's debut and the first of the Wu solo albums, which somehow turns thirty this year... All the elements are here - raw beat, the infamous kung-fu samples (this time from "Ten Tigers of Kwangtung" and "Shaolin Master Killer"), and bars upon bars. Meth opens up before the bell rings to end his verse/round, and then Raekwon brings it home rough like Timberland wear, as he would himself say!

Semi Six : Silver Moon

No singing hook, no hook at all in fact on this single - just a constant lyrical onslaught by one of the finest MCs in the D. The intro is eerie, off-balance, and makes it sound off when you mix it, but as soon as it's over, the dark beat thunders in and doesn't let up until the death - props to the producer, fellow Detroit native AntBell!, for providing a suitable soundtrack for this one.

Mixmaster Mike : Bermuda Tri-Axl

The 2000 "Eye Of The Cyklops" release is so simultaneously chaotic and seamless that when I came to digitise it, the only way I could work out where each track began and ended was to look it up on Discogs and read from the track timings! The legend from Rocksteady DJs/Invisibl Skratch Piklz and also the Beastie Boys, whether on production or on the wheels, always walks that line between virtuosity and total anarchy in a way few can pull off. 

O.C. ft. Big L and The Lost Boyz : Dangerous The Sequel

I cut this one a little short as O.C's next verse isn't so much to my taste! I thought sharing this slightly different version of the Big L-featured cut from the classic "Jewelz" LP would be a good way to play a track you may not know while also including some Big L - like Big Pun, he sadly didn't have a long enough time with us to build a deep catalogue. Production is done by Da Beatminerz, who take one of the all-time classic samples and put some deep bump underneath it. This on the B-side of the excellent "Can't Go Wrong" 12".

[DJ Spinna] Jigmastas : Magnetize (Instrumental)

The drums are smacking, the bass is rumbling, and the overall vibe is hectic on this instrumental from the 2016 "Resurgence" album from this much-respected Brooklyn crew. I played the vocal version of this back on episode 91, which is definitely worth a listen!

Natural Elements : This Is Not A Drill

High-wire apocalyptic Hip-Hop, courtesy of one of the finest groups of MCs you can even think about finding anywhere. Over Charlemagne's dramatic beat, A-Butta, Mr. Voodoo and Swigga all tear it down on a single that suits the extremely serious times we find ourselves in. The original plan was to start the episode with this track...but how do you follow up after this kind of demolition?

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

[hotchnerxo]

What am I thinking? Chapter 3. Things Fall Apart

Summary: The restaurant you're in is beautiful, but you try to remain fully professional. Until the other agent has to do something to make sure you don't get caught. And it gets kind of fluffy.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Words: 2.6k

Warning: mentions of human trafficking, some angst, prejudice.

A/N: Please take a moment to give me feedback or a like, to let me know what you think. Also, let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist. English is not my first language, let me know if there’s an error somewhere I haven’t noticed.

Chapter 3. Things fall apart

The evening is cooling down. It isn’t yet cold, but you’re cursing in your head that you didn’t bring a jacket with you. You’re in a taxi with Hotchner sitting on the other side. Neither of you say much, and you prefer it that way.

It was finally hitting you. If everything goes to plan tonight, you’re finally getting the case of your life closed. The case that has caused you numerous sleepless nights, thousands of hours of work. And it all hopefully comes to an end tonight. You’ve studied the front man’s face for so long you could draw it perfectly out of memory at this point. You know his story and some of his ‘buddies’. Now, all you need is to get them in action and get as many participants in handcuffs. At the moment you also appreciate Hotchner tagging along, as he was able to get proper gear and tactical team on stand by way quicker than you were.

“Are you ready?” you jump out of your head as the man next to you speaks. His face is blank, and that frustrates you. Why is this man such a mystery? Would it kill him to smile here and there? Like, properly smile? Maybe he’s just focused.

“I’m so ready” you state, filled with confidence. You are more than ready to get this case out of your hands. “Can’t wait to get my nights back”. You admit, and flash a small smile to him. Something seemingly softens in his expression as he sees you smile.

As the taxi arrived at the restaurant, everything seemed perfectly fine in front. It’s hard to believe that a restaurant this level would be a part of something so horrible. The front is dark but lit with fairy lights, falling down from the ceiling. It was romantic.

“Benjamin and Anya are in position” Camilla Moreno speaks softly in your ear. “We got our eyes on the whole floor. There’s three tables of people, one of them being our suspect. Your table should be close to them”.

The door closest to you opens and you see Hotchner reaching his hand out to you, to help you out. You take his hand and accept his help. You hadn’t even noticed the man had gotten out of the car. You love how he acts as a gentleman for you, probably just settling for his character. As you stand up, you smooth down the hem of your dress.

You feel the man’s eyes on you “You look beautiful” he smiles. You’re not sure which surprises you more, his hearty smile or the compliment. But those things combined got your heart rate up.

“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself” you smirk. You can’t help it, but use your sass as a coping mechanism. You’re not used to compliments. He stands next to you and you grab him by his arm. Like a gentleman he acts, he opens the door for you and lets you enter first. “On our left” you whisper to agent Hotchner, as the suspect you’ve studied for a long time catches your eye the moment you walk in.

The suspect seems to be in the middle of a conversation with a dark haired woman, sitting at the back of the restaurant. It’s a good place to be, if you don’t want to be noticed by many.

Hotchner nods and leads you to the waiter booth. “Hey. We had a reservation for two” his tone is softer than what you have gotten used to while working with him the past few hours. Your waitress was petit and had short, fiery red hair. They have simple makeup and a white button down shirt with black capri pants and an apron. “Aaron Hotchner” he answers as the waitress asks for the name. Aaron. You like the name, you think it suits him. As you are waiting, you take a subtle look around the restaurant, meeting eyes with Anya on the other end of the restaurant, sipping a drink at the bar.

Your waitress takes the two of you to your table. Aaron pulls a chair for you and whispers in your ear “we can hear them. That means, they can also hear us”. That is true. Your suspect is sitting just two tables over and you can hear a silent conversation they’re having. It seems innocent at the moment, as if a couple was on a date together.

40 minutes go by fast and everything is going smoothly. Garcia keeps updating both agents about what’s happening over inside the kitchen and bar areas, at the moment nothing alarming. There’s something at the back of the kitchen where one waitress seems to disappear, for many minutes at a time. Looks a lot like a regular pantry, but there’s a full one closer to the cooks. The bar is quiet. The two agents are having casual conversations, just two coworkers having a drink after work. Behind them are two men, who are on their phones a big part of the time, changing a few words here and there.

You’ve relaxed a lot, it’s comfortable working with agent Hotchner. Aaron. You’ve found out that he has a son but hasn’t been dating in years. He is very athletic and triathlonist and a little geeky. You also open up a little about your personal life and hobbies. But you do admit that work has taken a big part of your free time, but you’d like to change that once you’re able to. You notice how good of a listener Hotchner is, and you wish that dates would normally be this casual yet beautiful. You keep reminding yourself that this is all for work purposes only.

Even if you’re both focused on just keeping a facade, you’re paying close attention to the table close to you. The man is doing a lot of the talking, and telling her about a job he’s offering her. The brunette is clearly interested and listens carefully. “I will go give my thanks to the chef, and then I’ll show you to the place. Alright, honey?” The man’s voice is squeaky, higher than you’d imagine his voice sounding. He’s thin and average sized. Dirty blond hair and a small scar on his forehead. You know, that the scar is from an old fight he got into in an old gang, years ago. The man gets up and quickly disappears into the kitchen.

“We lost visual in the kitchen” Camilla alarms. “Camera went dark”.

You try to think of your next move. You need to see what’s happening. You need to be sure, before sending the technical unit in. If it doesn’t work, the ring shatters and there’s no way your suspect will rat on his mates. “If you’ll excuse me, I will go try to find the ladies room” you excuse yourself and share a look with Hotchner. You nod to him, barely noticeably.

The restroom is close to the kitchen, on the left. There’s a small window to the kitchen, and a counter where the waitresses get prepared dishes from the kitchen to the dining room. You take a look inside as you walk past it, smiling at the chef that notices you. As you have passed the window, you wait next to it and try to hear what’s happening inside.

“Hotch. There’s a big truck behind the restaurant. Just arrived. It’s not to deliver produce, three men went straight to the kitchen” Garcia informs her boss, who is sitting at the table alone, studying the woman waiting for her ‘future boss’ back from the kitchen. “Three men. We have no audio”.

“She’s perfect. I’ll bring her in shortly. You got the others?” You hear a familiar squeaky voice speaking inside the kitchen and it kills you because you can’t see who he is talking to. You never hear an answer to his question, but determined footsteps across the kitchen, coming towards you.

You turn towards the restroom door, and to your horror see that you’ve mistaken it for such, and in reality, it’s a staffroom. You curse in your head, trying to think of a game plan. If you’re seen here, he will know you were following him and making you a threat. You had to think of something in the next few seconds, before the man would come out of the kitchen.

Your mind hits blank, but almost as quickly, you get your back pushed to the wall. Before you even realize what’s happening, you feel Hotchner’s lips on you. Fucking hell, you think and give into the kiss. His hands are firmly on your hips, holding you tightly against the wall. His lips are soft and his breath is hot. You feel dizzy, but you’re unsure if it’s because of the nerves of almost getting caught or how good the kiss feels and how amazing it feels to have him against you.

You hear the kitchen door opening and the footsteps stopping. You turn to look towards him and make eye contact and you feel yourself blushing. You feel like a teenager getting caught making out with your crush at the end of the high school hallway. The man rolls his eyes, but moves on, making his way to the table he left from earlier.

“I just remembered seeing the restrooms by the entrance, I had a bad feeling” he whispers, breathlessly. He takes a step back quickly, as if he’s just realized how close to you he actually was. “I’m sorry” he looks down.

“Good call” you manage to say “I think that just saved my ass”. You dig your pocket mirror and check your lipstick quickly. It still looks good. Thank the lord you chose matte lipstick. You find yourself wanting him to do that again, yet the circumstances aren’t the best for that. You try your best to calm your nerves, and follow him back to your table.

Neither of you say a word, just look at each other, studying each other. Aaron had a soft smile on his face, but kept looking down to the plate in front of him. You took a sip of wine that Aaron had ordered earlier, to calm your racing heart. In the corner of your eye, you see the man and woman getting up and instead of going to the front door, he grabs her hand and directs to the kitchen.

Both agents share a look, knowing it’s time to go “Garcia, backdoor. We got the kitchen” his volume low, but Garcia confirms receiving the agent’s order and you both get up. You dive in through the kitchen doors, Hotchner quickly behind you. You order everyone down, and for your luck, most of them obey. One of the chefs tries to run for it, but he is surprised how fast you get up on him, even on heels. As you see him opening the back door, familiar red and blue lights are flashing in the background. The SWAT team has already gotten their hands on the three men from the truck and will more than happily take down the chef that’s now made it outside. You nod the team thank you and turn around.

You go find the mysterious pantry room. It’s close by. The door is heavy and reminds you a lot of a normal cooler. Lots of different kinds of produce are stacked on the shelfs, but at the back of it, you hear silent sniffing. You rush towards the sound and find a woman sitting at the back of it. You recognize it to be the same woman your suspect was at dinner with, now the difference was that she had duct tape covering her mouth and tears running down her cheeks.

As she spots you, she vigorously shakes her head, trying to gesture something. You fail to understand what, and go to help her take the duct tape off. “Look out!” she shouts, but at the same time you feel something hitting you at the back of your knees, making you fall to the ground. As you turn to look behind you, you see the man holding a bat in his hands, holding it up in the air. You prepare yourself for another swing.

The swing doesn’t come, but you hear the familiar, stern voice “If I were you, I’d think of your next move very carefully”. You’ve never been so happy to Hotchner before. He orders the man to drop the bat, which he does. You can focus back to helping the crying woman at your feet and let Hotch handcuff your suspect and get them out.

-- -- --

The whole situation feels overwhelming. You’re standing behind the restaurant, watching the SWAT team unloading a truck that had 6 young women and men loaded inside of it. All of them look frightened, but well. They’re all headed to the hospital to get checked out and things are going to get sorted out. 7 different men are caught after Anya and Benjamin brought in the two men from the bar after they’d tried to escape from the front. Couple of them are staff members, including the chef you chased after just moments ago.

It’s over. It’s finally over. You did it. You led your team in the right direction and made good choices.

You’re too busy in your thoughts to realize how cold it was outside. You realize it the moment an odd warmth takes over. Hotchner had put his suit jacket on your shoulders and you’re thankful. “Good job” he praises you and stands next to you in his long sleeve shirt and tie. He has his hands in his pockets, the same way you first time saw him standing at his office. “You caught them”.

You nod a few times, still trying to wrap your head around the idea. The warmth of his jacket helps you clear your head a little, but it gets quickly clouded by the scent of his cologne that was stuck on his jacket. You feel tears burning in your eyes, but you’re not sure why. It embarrasses you, and you don’t want the agent next to you seeing this side of you. You didn’t want him to think down on you. But as a tear falls down on your cheek, you don’t feel able to stop it any more. “I’m sorry. This is so unprofessional. I’ve just been so invested in this for so long and I’m overwhelmed that it’s now over” you try to explain.

His hand lands on your side and pulls you closer for a partial hug. “It’s not unprofessional. it shows that you’re a human. You’ve been on this for 6 months. There’s no wonder you feel invested in these people’s lives. You did so good” he reassures, while offering you his handkerchief to wipe your tears. You gratefully take it in your hands and tap your skin to dry it.

You appreciate his words. They were not the words you had expected out of him, but it now makes sense why he is such a respected leader of his team. “Also, thank you for, you know” the heat rises back to your cheeks “everything you did back there”.

“Like I said before, I got your back (Y/N). Are you alright? Do you need to see a doctor?” He's concerned and it’s clear he doesn’t even try to hide his worry. You try to joke about just getting a bruise on your ego. You laugh, tears still in your eyes.

“Agent (Y/L/N)” one of the SWAT agents calls for you. You clear your throat and move forward to the agent calling you. As you’re talking with the tactical team, you find yourself looking back at Agent Hotchner, who has remained in the same spot you left him in. And you find him looking back at you, with encouragement and pride shining on his eyes. You nod at him, trying to say thank you. He responds the same way, seconds later his phone rings and he turns back to his stern self.

~~

Taglist: @ssahotchsbitch @mayasreadingnook @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @ssamorganhotchner @kajjaka ( mention or message me if you want to be added)

[tiefworks]

#OCtober 2021 - Week 3: The Misfits

↳ Day 3: Blue and James

Today we have Blue (left) and James (right!)

Beatrice 'Blue' Blanchet is a 23 year old hairdresser and one of the few girls in the Misfit household.

James Regis, also known as Jamie, is a 24 year old punk who works as a tattooist and freelance artist.

LOTS more goodies under the cut!

Blue is tall for a girl, standing 5'10", and has a curvy figure. Her hair, formerly platinum blond, is dyed to be a pleasant blue that matches her eyes, and is her favorite color (hence her nickname). She has peachy skin and very long legs, which comes in handy for reaching tall shelves. She usually forgoes makeup aside from some light lip gloss, and keeps her hair in a ponytail at most times. She usually wears a gray 3/4-sleeve shirt with a blue tanktop underneath that peaks out, as well as dark blue-gray capris and sneakers. She has French and French-Canadian heritage.

James is a very tall man, towering at 6'8" in height not including his red mohawk. He has peachy skin and freckles, and gray eyes. His hair naturally a dirty blondish-brown as evidenced by his eyebrows and beard. He has a number of piercings on his face, with three on his left ear, two on his right, two on his right eyebrow, one on his nose, and one on his tongue. He typically wears heavy eyeliner as well. In physique James is considered one of the most impressive as his height is equally matched by his musculature, with a wide torso and rectangular bodyshape. He has tattoos on his arms and chest as well, with a sleeve of roses, clocks, and parchment paper on his right arm, a wrist tattoo of a rose on his left arm, a compass on his left shoulder, a minimalist band tattoo on his right mid-back, and a small wolf on his left pectoral, all of which he designed himself. He also often paints his nails black. He is most often seen with boots, jeans, a t-shirt, and a big jacket with studs and patches.

Blue is a snarky but kind girl who prioritizes hard work and cooperation above all, though this can sometimes means she takes criticism very hard and feels bad about it after. She also enjoys having fun, particularly dancing. She has no interest in a relationship right now and is prioritizing her career, much to the chagrin of her mom who wants to have some grandkids soon. That being said, Blue loves children and is a very motherly person. She despises 'edgy' humor and meanspirited behavior.

Despite his sometimes frightful appearance, James is a gentle giant with a love for kids, animals, and music. He is artistic and creative, seeing things from different perspectives when possible. He can play the drums and paint/draw, which lends itself to his job as a tattoo artist. He tries his best to be patient with people, and give them the benefit of the doubt. However, he can be short-tempered for topics that are dear to him, and can become overly passionate or competitive. He hates people who purposefully self-sabotage or who are given opportunities to improve themselves but choose not to, and particularly loathes when people restrict others' development in the process. He also just hates assholes.

Trivia:

Blue's real name is Beatrice Blanchet - she takes the nickname Blue from her favorite color and her dyed hair, which has been blue since she was 13.

Blue is dyslexic.

Blue loves her mother dearly, especially considering she gave up much of her dreams to raise Blue alone after her father walked out on them. She is deeply feminist as well.

Her favorite food is fettucine alfredo, and her favorite music is pop. However, she is tone deaf and despite thinking she sounds great, her friends are always ready to tell her she sounds horrible.

She was born the same year as Terry and Iggy, but she was born in January. She hates it though, since it always way too cold to do anything fun. Her dream birthday is to go to Hawaii.

She works as a hairdresser, and is a crowd favorite who is always booked solid. She also cuts and dyes the hair of the Misfits at home, and they always pay her despite her protests.

James' last name, Regis, happens to also be the name of an art school, which works out for James' artistic nature.

James is Tief's favorite name for a boy.

He is a Gemini.

James weighs 245lb of which most is muscle. He is capable of lifting up a car a few inches off the ground.

James is one of the tallest regular human OCs, but is notably not one of the heaviest.

James' favorite food is burgers and his favorite band is SOAD.

James has mostly recovered from his nervous tic but will continue to stutter if made anxious.

James uses Prozac (whereas Z uses Zoloft).

[the-finch-address]

Tag: Word Find

Tagged by @sharraus! Thank you!!

tHO isn’t at the stage where I can find half of these words in a comprehensible state since most of it is Draft 1 gibberish. So instead I’m using the opportunity to write something new for each prompt; some being canon from the book and others just standing as an excuse to write the characters interacting. Bc of this the length got a bit......Out Of Hand. Sorry about that. Putting it all under the read more so I don’t bombard anyone’s dashboard

> Prompt: Work [Note; This occurs years before the plot begins]

Vestiel ran his fingers through the grass and picked at early yellow blooms. The harsh clang of metal against wood echoed around him, the sounds of the forest easily lost behind it.

“Can we go home soon?” he whined, “I’m so hungry I could eat a bear.” His bottom lip is brought between his teeth, and he waits. Clang. Clang. Clang. “Please?”

The axe stills. Andi turns, wiping the sweat from his brow while fitting Vestiel with a look. Magpies trill in the wake of his silence, the flutter of fallen leaves following the breeze. Andi straightens his back. “Silas won’t have finished dinner yet, lad, the sun’s still well up the sky.” He answers, looking annoyed, “We’ve plenty of light to finish this up first. Fill the baskets if you’re so restless.”

He reaches for the axe again. The disappointment must have shown on Vestiel’s face, though, since the tool remains lodged, and Andi continues to look distracted. He knew the boy was too young to understand how important this work was, how it kept them warm and fed. He couldn’t blame a child for prioritizing an empty stomach over harsh and thankless labor. Still, that morning’s storm had downed too many trees to not take advantage of. It had to be done.

“Tell you what,” Andi resigns himself, a weary smile lifting his eyes, “I’ll let you do a few strokes, but Vestiel-”

The boy is already up and on his feet, dandelions forgotten in the sunken spots of grass where his legs had crossed, “You mean it?” He brightens, “I can do it all by myself?”

“Listen to me,” Andi lifts a hand, demanding attention, while the other remains on the hilt, “you’ll start with the axe wedged in and bring them down together-” he offers a stern look, “--and I don’t want to hear any complaints. This is your first time, I don’t want you lopping off a toe or, North forbid, a whole foot. You need a feel for the tool before you do anything else.”

Vestiel acknowledges this with a hasty nod, the muttered agreement of “Yeah, yeah, sure” crossing his lips, hand already reaching for the axe.

Andi comes between him with a harsher expression than before, eyebrows raised expectantly. Vestiel lets out a sigh.

“The axe will start in the wood. Got it.” The impatience hasn’t fully left his tone, but it’s an improvement, and Andi appears content by it.

The wood is already a narrowed size when the axe is driven through its flesh. The blade settles halfway down the block and wedges itself firmly along the grain with little resistance, just on the edge of splitting. He brings it to Vestiel, who takes the closer end of the block with his left hand and the hilt with his right.

“Now, you’ll want to bring it down towards the back of the splitting block,” Andi starts, “Make sure you do so with both hands together, or you’ll only-”

Clang. Vestiel opens his eyes, already knowing that Andi is going to ring his neck for having closed them in the first place. All is forgotten at the sight of the severed wood, though, and he can’t help but be excited with the results. It isn’t perfect by any means, but it’s his, and he’s no less proud of it despite his brother's hand-holding. He looks to Andi in hopes of praise.

“Mother’s grief, Vestiel, have some patience!” Is the chastised response he receives instead. “You couldn’t have at least waited for me to finish?”

Vestiel makes a sour face. “I did it fine, didn’t I?” He retorts, “Isn’t that good enough?”

Andi raises a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose, a long and tired breath escaping him. After a minute of patience himself he’s able to give Vestiel the reaction he was looking for. A smile, small but proud. “It’s not bad for your first time,” he says, “but you’re going to need more practice, and patience, than that if you want to hack apart whole trees in a few years.”

He extends a hand to bring Vestiel near, pulling him snug against his side. “You did well.” Andi continues, “but, lad,” his voice lowers to a stern whisper, and

Vestiel pales, “If I ever see your eyes closed with an axe in hand again, you’ll sweep the whole corridor. Twice.”

He swallows harshly and answers only with a nod. The pride blooming in his chest doesn't falter.

> Prompt: Weather

The evening sky flashes white, casting shadows across paintings framed in gold and goblets of silver. Across the room, Caprice of the North hunches over a desk painted in candlelight. He draws a finger across the map in study of its various routes and borders, frowning. Behind him, thunder crashes down. He flinches. Pitiful.

Shaking away the thought, the young deliverer refocuses. His back arches further towards the desk until braided locks of gold spill over onto the wood. Especially now, as he squints in the darkness of his shadow, does he wish this dreaded storm had chosen another night. It brought a miserable chill to his bones despite the grizzly pelt draping heavily over his shoulders and brought an ache to his bones.

Lightning comes again, its brilliant light cutting into the room with the swiftness of a sword’s blow. Capri anticipates it this time. When thunder claps against his window he’s decisively ready for it, his knuckles gone white against clenching fists. He can’t stop their trembling no matter how tightly he’s squeezing.

A knock at the door sends him out of his skin.

Like a sharp wound, the anticipation drives him into a panic. Young flesh grasps aimlessly for a new frame to stretch into, finding nothing but mortal bones. By the time the door swings open he is straightened, remembering a human form, begging the drum within his heart to settle.

Silence greets him. A form approaches from the doorway and draws towards the light, illuminating their features quick enough that Caprice’s hand stills where it rested on the hilt of his sword.

“Dove?” He relaxes and lets himself breathe, forcing air into his lungs with more effort than is needed. “I thought you were with Eivind."

“He was needed elsewhere,” Dove signs. His hands portrayed a sense of disappointment where one couldn’t be seen in his expression, brown eyes seeming indifferent.

Caprice looks away shamefully, “You didn’t have to come,” he says.

“I wanted to.”

His gaze again lifts to meet the other with only a grunt, reluctant to answer in words for fear that his voice might betray him.

Light consumes the room with blinding force and concurrently Caprice’s hand reaches blindly for the edge of the desk to ground himself. It’s silly, he thinks, ruined pride staining his cheeks red. Internally he’s counting the seconds as they go by, steeling himself.

Dove reaches for him--

Capri recoils just as thunder cracks and booms overhead. The approach was too quick, well-meaning as it may have been. Dove understands the reaction. He reads Caprice as well as the noble reads his sign.

The thrashing of rain fills the aching silence and neither of them dares interrupt it. Seconds pass by without distraction until Dove again extends his hand forward. He moves slower than he has to under the young emperor’s weary gaze as though addressing a wounded animal.

When Caprice notices it’s not without backlash. His eyes turn hard, looking fussed. His nails dig into the wood beneath them until angry lines form on the underside of the desk and pain shoots up his fingers.

Dove’s palm settles over his hand, squeezing.

He flinches but can’t bring himself to shake the man away. The silence between them stretches on unbearably after, broken only by the rain. He releases the desk and turns his palm face up, intertwining their fingers wearily. “Thank you.” He whispers.

When the thunder comes this time, he doesn’t flinch.

Prompt: Help

Vestiel’s heartbeat thuds like thunder roaring inside his ears. He stares with too much intent at the earth beneath his worn shoes, doing his best to concentrate on the hole boring over the space near his toes.

Much to his dismay, Fannar-Haise appears to notice.

She carries herself past the snow huts and politely cuts through the crowd, stepping lightly around the fire and between celebrants, their songs alight with a different kind of flame.

Vestiel can’t hear them past his own thoughts. Get out, get out, get out. He forces some semblance of greeting out as she approaches but can’t manage to look her in the eyes. It’s hard most days, but especially now.

“Enjoying the party?” She asks, making no mention of the answer being pretty obvious. The smile on her lips is pitying, judgemental at worst, he just knows it. He can’t bear to lift his chin and see. If Andi were here he could explain himself easily but, as it was, he was going into this situation alone. Completely, utterly alone.

“Yeah,” he lies, “just tired from all the traveling.”

It’s a witless excuse and she knows it. Instead of pointing it out, though, she only offers a shake of her head. There’s a lot to say about communication and Fannar-Haise considers herself an expert on the subject. She watches him fumble about; the trouble in getting his tongue to do its job sticking out to her as sorely as the restless, rhythmic tap of his hand against his hip and the blatant avoidance of eye contact. It answered her question more than his words could, and that was okay.

“You’re overwhelmed,” she nods to herself this time, having seemingly come to a conclusion all on her own, “Let me help. You don’t have to answer with words, a nod will do just fine. Can you walk?”

Vestiel squints at the sole of his shoes, looking confused, then apprehensive, “I’m-”

Silence. No matter how hard he pries, not a single word comes loose from his tongue. The thoughts are there and plentiful, excuses and apologies, maybe something more, fastened tightly like honey coating his throat and hidden away between his ribcage, leaving him breathless and useless.

His chin tilts upward, lips parting, but he can’t manage it. Instead, he allows himself the nod she had been looking for.

“Good. That’s good. We’re going to go somewhere quiet and after that you can tell me what you want to do. Can I touch your hand?”

She patiently waits for the resulting, albeit cautious nod, and takes his hand within her own.

She guides him past the bustling scene like this. As they reach a distance where the noise has muffled he finds it in himself to speak again. It’s slow, at first, allowing his mind time to find the right words. “How did you know?”

Calmly she turns her gaze from the sky, not looking directly at him but rather just past where he stands. There isn’t a soul there when Vestiel follows her gaze over his shoulder, but he’d only half expected one. Andi had learned with time not to stare too long; something told him Haise was just as quick of a learner.

“Call it a hunch,” she hums, “I’ve experienced my fair share of things, Vestiel. This isn’t new or strange, it’s just you.” She pauses to face him, eyes still averted. He returns the favor and looks at her nose like it’s his only salvation, seconded only by the sight of his snow hut in the distance and the soft murmur becoming of the crowd ever fading behind them.

“Besides,” she continues, “these celebrations aren’t a requirement by any standard. They’re here to bring happiness. If something causes you to be unhappy you have no obligation to stay. If you need to step away, I will understand. We will always understand.”

Vestiel doesn’t know what to say when they reach the entrance. Despite her words, he can’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him for having both left the celebration early-- a celebration of his arrival, no less--and now, leaving their leader at the door.

She picks up on this, too.

“I’m going to head back to the others for a while longer. You can join us if you’re feeling up to it, or you can stay here and get some rest. Don’t overthink it, okay?”

Her warmth is everything to him, more grounding than a hole in his shoe could ever be. He wants her to know, wants to find the right words to explain how much her actions mean to him, but there isn’t an easy way to go about it without making a greater fool of himself. He answers with a weak smile and a simple, “Okay”, the best he can offer in way of thanks.

She matches his smile and bids him goodnight.

Prompt: Hope

The scent of leather tanning above flame clings to his nostrils. It fills him with a sense of despair unlike any other, weighing different from the miserable few weeks he’d spent mourning Andi, even. Putrid, a nauseating sort of agony like snakes writhing and tearing at his stomach. Burning. Burning. Burning.

The forest was ablaze. That was all he could possibly know, here in the dark. Shadows drove past him in a stampede of bodies carving through the night, survived only by a name and footprints worn into the poaching grounds.

He scares awake. Stars wink faintly above him, hidden behind the morning sun.

“Bad dream?”

Tupelo’s voice startles him a second time from where he lay, their trek up the hill all but forgotten until that point.

Vestiel slowly drags himself into a sitting position with a grunt of effort. Sweat collects at his jaw, cold against his cheeks. He licks his lips and tastes salt.

“A fire, just to the north of here-- tonight maybe--the forest, the people-”

Tupelo tends to the campfire, looking drained. It was suddenly apparent neither of them had slept well. “The forest?” they ask with a shake of their head, “Not to the north, yet.”

“Yet?”

Vestiel draws his shirt away and uses the

bottom corner to dry his face. Goosebumps still clinging to his arms, the memory remaining like a fresh wound.

“You don’t have to believe me,” he says, “I can’t explain it to you and if I do, you’ll just think I’ve gone strange. I’m only asking that you take me north of here.”

He reaches for the map tucked inside his rucksack, spilling a few more items in the process, “It shouldn’t be too far off from where we’re going already. I’ll show you.”

Tupelo is quick to rest their hand against his wrist with a sympathetic, albeit calm look on their face. “We’ll go.” They assure him, pointing to the north. “If it’s important.”

_________________________________

It quickly becomes evident that Tupelo is just as ill-equipped for this kind of travel as Vestiel. For as nimble as they are the hill obviously called for a different kind of strength. The original path would have taken them up and around, but this new direction was a straight shot to the north, uphill for the better half of it.

Tupelo watches Vestiel out of the corner of their eye, checking up on him every now and then as though waiting for Vestiel to change his mind, or hoping he’ll get around to it if they climb for long enough.

However, Vestiel remains steadfast in the endeavor, eyes locked on the horizon. He’s certain of what he saw, having learned to trust the dreams long ago, and he had no plans to stop now. The smell of burning flesh still lingered undeniably.

“We’re almost there.” Tupelo breaks the silence.

“Finally,” he gasps, “I don’t think my legs can go on for much longer.”

He can feel it already. The weight of the earth shifting beneath his feet, a familiar pressure that seeps into his bones, pungent smoldering inside his nostrils once more. “It’s right over here,” he drags himself the last few feet to the summit, “It’s-”

Dead. Every tree, every blade of grass, the entire opposite face of the hill lie dusty and black, an empty expanse of burnt trunks where the forest should have been.

Tupelo comes up beside him.

“What happened here?” Vestiel gasps in disbelief, “I was sure-- my dreams have never lied, not once before. Were we too late?”

“Your soul tells stories, not prophecies.” Tupelo answers, “Father told me you can hear them.”

“Them?”

“The spirits,” they gesture to the barren woods, “they speak because they know you will listen. Come.”

Vestiel follows their lead. Dry grass crunches underfoot as they descend the hill. Patches of green pop up here and there, but aren't constant and don’t compare to the full weight of the forest that should have been in its stead. It’s a sight he feels the need to grieve over as though his own soul were tied to the scorched land. The thought scares him.

Tupelo steps ahead and crouches to their knees, hands smoothing over a ring of stones that would have gone unseen had they not brought attention to it. Wordlessly, they pull the canteen from its strap and let the remainder of its water drip out.

Vestiel inches closer now. He kneels beside the other, “What is it?”

Tupelo sits back on their heels, palms opening to show a young sapling, green and healthy, standing tall, small as it may be. It rests in a forgotten graveyard.

“A tree?” Vestiel reaches for it and thumbs carefully along the juvenile bark. “What is one tree to an empty field?”

Tupelo cradles the sapling fondly. “Hope.”

_________________________________

I'm tagging @faenova @squid-scribe @zmlorenz @ashen-crest @henrike-does-writing-sometimes and @sharraus (can I tag the tagger? I'm doing it anyway)

Your words are Drenched, Gather, Cradle, and Howl

[flyinglotus777]

Fleeting Lotus

An usually sunny day on September 22nd. Reminiscing on the great remembrance of the 21st night of September. Although the sky was clear, my thoughts were cloudy. 3 years had passed since the death of my mother and I celebrated how I celebrated any other anniversary in my life, with a pack of menthol cigarettes and a book to get lost in. The pick for the day was Harry Potter: Order of the Phoenix. My mother and I shared a love for Harry Potter, she introduced me to the series. I had a strange feeling that judgement was coming to me swiftly much as it met our three estranged heroes.

A knock at the door.

“Los Angeles police, open up.” an assertive, but comforting voice commanded.

I open the door to be greeted by a beautiful detective James. First name unknown. She had a slicked back, long curly ponytail and eyes of warm chocolate. Her skin was sun kissed and I found her presence to be encapturing. I wonder what she wants with me.

“Good morning sir. I am detective James. I am aware that your girlfriend, Lauren, has been missing for a couple of days and I would like to ask you some questions.” Her eyes pierced at me with persistence. Her tone sounded as if she was asking a question, but I knew she would come again if I denied. Maybe with more reinforcement.

“Uh, sure. Come on in.” I shut the green door behind her and light a cigarette. If I am to be interrogated, I shall answer in smoke.

“Sir, can you put that out?” 

“No, but I’ll open a window for you. You can sit by it.” I turn on a fan and open a window. I open the blinds slightly to see the families laugh and play in the shallow, motel infested pool. What a bunch of turds, I laugh to myself. 

I grab a seat for the lady and one for myself next to the ashtray. I see her eyes wander in silent judgement and amazement of the room. 

“There you go, Ms. James. Now what can I help you with?”

“Your girlfriend, Lauren Alexander-”

“Ex. I don’t make love to the dead,” I chuckle.

“She has been missing for over five days. We are doing an investigation and asking all close friends and family members about her whereabouts and when they saw her last. Why do you say she is dead?” she asks unsteadily, gripping the upholstered arm chair.

“Well, five days missing in this city means you’ve been kidnapped or killed. Especially for women, I’m sure you know that all too well yourself ma’am. Besides, I am the one who called to inform the police of her absence.” I take a drag and relinquish the air and stress I had built up inside of me for the past few days. She eyed me up and down as I spoke, taking notice of my fully unbuttoned beige, roaring tiger print shirt to reveal my white Hanes undershirt matched with my khaki capris. I placed my leg over my ankle so maybe she would catch a glance of my Nike socks and birkenstock combination. I did dress myself today after all. Her eyes read suspicion, but somehow I could tell she was doubtful of me. 

“Well, I would just like to ask some questions and I will be on my way.”

“Ask away. How rude of me. I forgot to mention, my name is Jacob Whitmore. My friends call me Jakey, but they haven’t been calling me as much lately.” I took another drag. Nothing screams rise and shine like a nicotine coated menthol and sitting across from an upgraded police officer.

She shakes her head in disgust and despair. “Mr. Whitmore-”

‘Please, call me Jacob.”

A heavy breath followed by a restrained urge to eye roll left the detective. 

“No more interruptions please. Where were you on Thursday, September 18th?”

“Well let’s see.” I begin to close my eyes and play in my hair in an attempt to rush my memory to the present. I need more nicotine for this. “I remember waking up that morning in my downtown Los Angeles apartment, noisier than ever that morning. Lauren had made me her classic breakfast special: bland eggs with turkey bacon and 3 chocolate chip Eggos before rushing off to work. She worked multiple jobs. She walked dogs in the morning before heading off to her fabulous mansion tour of house cleaning. Demeaning, but rewarding as me and the bills always thanked her.  I had suspicions that she had been cheating on me. I found love letters in her pockets while doing the laundry. I was a stay at home while she took care of me in between jobs. I know, you don’t find too many of us house husbands,” I said, smirking at the unimpressed detective. 

“Anyways, I decided that day I was going to follow her. Do some investigating of my own. I could’ve asked her, but I wanted to see for my own eyes the poor bastard that she was playing. You see, she loved me. We were in love and inseparable. She would be playing this rascal, but still wishing the man sweetening her gears was me.” I lit another cigarette, thankful for the lotus shaped ashtray that contained a mountain of my remnants over these past few days.

“Self absorbed, maybe but that was the kind of love her and I shared.” A smile shot across my face uncontrollably. “To my great fortune, she was loyal. I watched her rip the gardening boy a new one as she proclaimed her love for me. Lauren had the mouth of a New Yorker with the face of an angel.” A chuckle escaped through my lips along with the smoke. “I was so happy I bought her roses, her favorites. Yellow bodies with pinked tipped petals. I bought her three bouquets and decided I was going to make her favorite, fettuccine alfredo. Then I was going to lay her down like I was a handyman and the Lord hand delivered me a golden pipe to fix all broken faucets in the city.” I ashed my cigarette and began to spiral as the next menthol met my lips. I could see the concern on the detective’s face as my demeanor began to colden. 

“I made her dinner. I cleaned the apartment. I lit candles on the table and on the counter. I wasn’t too big of a romantic, but I knew how to set the mood.” I chuckled as I hunched over in my chair, staring at the ground. My hands began to tremble. I abandoned my dear ashtray for the floor. “I called her five times in the first round, no response. The clock struck 5:30, and I knew that was the time she was usually getting onto the bus. Sometimes she had went to the gay bar on Melrose, the one with the illuminated turtle splashing into an ale of beer. That quacky place,” I begin to rub my head in distress. “But she texted me that she had a long day and would be coming home as soon as possible to run a bubble bath. I was going to fuck her in the tub too.” I place my hands in my head as I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes, sucking them back into their place. The detective has been silent, but watching me in suspense like an audience member of a Shakespearan tragedy. 

“By 8 o’clock, I still had no response or sight of her. The candles were melting down to the stem and the alfredo might as well have been frozen. That’s when I made a call to the station.” I stepped on the menthol delight to extinguish it before lighting another. Only four left in the pack. Fuck. I hope this wasn’t going to take much longer.

The detective nodded and I noticed she was taking notes. She seemed very good at her job. “I have some more questions for you...Jacob” she ended her sentence hesitantly, but her soft tone comforted my damaged soul. She shifted in her seat to her legs being crossed as if she was finally finding comfort in her 1940s styled chair. “Now we visited some of her colleagues and friends who reported a similar story to you, minus some details. We have no leads, as we have already contacted the gardener who had matching alibis. The bar said she had not come in that day. We’re still recovering city footage of her traveling throughout the county.” I picked my head up to meet her eyes. My emerald eyes glisten as she asks, “why did you decide to rent out this motel room the night of September 18th?”

“Well, I couldn’t stay in the apartment knowing that something had happened. You see, today marks the anniversary of my mother’s death. She would come here often.” Detective James nodded as if she understood. 

“I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. Would you all come to vacation here?”

“My mother was a hooker. She would bring male and occasionally female clients to this location.” I said nonchalantly as if I were telling a relic of an old friend. “My father abandoned us when I was freshly born and she needed some way to support me and my brother. When she couldn’t find someone to watch us she would have us sit in the parking lot. In the parked car of course. One night I came stumbling in to beg my mother  to take us home as the clock was striking midnight and the car felt like an overworked camel hump to sleep on. I didn’t know what she was doing at first, she would always say business. I thought she was like a wall street business shark working men for their hard earned cash. I was partially right. I remember hearing these weird, promiscuous noises screaming through the lotus flower tapered walls. That’s my favorite part about this place.” I said drawing our attention to the decorum. “The pink flowers draped on the walls. Lotus flowers are supposed to be a symbol of purity. My innocence was extracted from me that night.” I take a hard drag on my cigarette in pain of irony. The detective stared at me in awe and pity. Before she could speak, I continued on with my story.

“Something inside of me told me to stay out, but my 7 year old brain was too curious not to open the door to see my mother getting pounded like the whore she was. The man just smiled at me and asked if I wanted a turn. I turned around and ran away. I vowed to never bring it up or let my brother know.” I shake my head reliving the trauma and seeing my last cigarette. “She was a good woman. She took care of me and my brother and made sure we had more than what we needed. Lauren kinda reminded me of her. Now they’re both angels watching over me.”

Detective James watched the flame from the lighter and then proceeded to scribble down an additional note. She had a confusing look on her face as if she was missing a piece of the puzzle.

“You know,” she says softly. “It hasn’t been confirmed that Lauren is dead. She may still be alive.” 

I shrug, “I abandoned false hope long ago. Is there anything else I can help you with, Ms. James?”

She starts to gather her belongings, but pauses for a second as she spots my unzipped suitcase. I could tell the puzzle pieces in her brain were looking for the missing link. Before she can answer, I say “I’ll walk you out,” managing to produce a smile. I’m just happy to reup on Ms. Mary Menthol.

She nods with a smile to mirror mine. “That is all for today. Thank you for your time and I am sorry life has been unkind to you.” Her tone rang defeated. I’m unsure if she was more saddened by my life or the unsolved case. We shake hands and I turn to reach for the door. As my back is turned, the sly bitch kicks open my suitcase to reveal a half kilo of my delicious cocaine, a machete with dried blood painted on it, and hand written notes I had written for my sweet Lauren. The next thing I know, I turn around to a gun pointed in my direction and me being handcuffed. Just as I thought I was in the clear. The scene played like a slow motion, silent film.

You see the cops had been trailing my alias for years as I had developed an itch that only holding a dead female corpse could scratch. Fell for my act didn’t you? I was sure hoping detective James would. I played the role so well I deserve to host the next fucking emmys. You see I’m not a bad guy, just a tortured soul. I was going to marry Lauren, I really was. She discovered I had killed my mother and was horrified by my actions. She was never supposed to find out. That sweet little Sherlock went rummaging through my stuff one day innocently only to be greeted with the same murder weapon that matched the description of my mother’s murder weapon and soon to be hers. I was tormented by my own thoughts and other kids for my mother’s actions. Although her intentions were in good faith, they created a world wind of hell for me. I plotted the move since I was 16. I figured sure people could clown me for having a whore as a mother, but would they say the same if she was dead. Then that makes you a shitty person. Call my mental twisted, but you try walking in my shoes and telling me how the fuck you like those roses. I’m ritualistic in my attacks as to why I was planning on burning the evidence that night on the day of my mother’s death. I figured her soul would take care of it, but it seems as if it had a vendetta to avenge me. As for the cocaine, my only mistake was not head diving straight into the baby powder while sweet cheeks handcuffed me. I hope they sell menthols in prison... 

[forevercaroline]

The nine lives of Caroline Forbes chapter 1

For @austennerdita2533, @caritobear, @misssophiachase, @babeyouareenough, @joceysstuff

Xxx

“Come on Rebekah hurry up.”

“You try running in heels.”

Klaus and his younger sister Rebekah and younger brother Kol are running into the tall and open coit tower but these three are not here to see the panoramic views of the city and bay. They followed the man dressed in black and has scars on his face who is sent to kill their kind but at the moment he is after Caroline Forbes who doesn’t know who she is or how to protect herself.

“No please.” The man with scars has cornered Caroline to the edge of the tower she looks down at the ground the people look like ants they are so high up.

The trio hear her cries and Rebekah reaches down and takes her heels off and catches up to her brothers. They are to late they get to the top of the tower as Caroline is pushed off. The man with the scars watches as Caroline’s body hits the pavement.

Klaus reaches out and takes his siblings hands and they turn around quickly and quietly.

The bald guy with scars turns around and watches as the two blondes and brunette siblings are running down the stairs he gets an evil grin on his lips and he chases them down the stairs.

As they get down to the ground. Klaus being older pulls his siblings behind him Rebekah is putting her heels back on behind him and Kol is in front of his sister. Klaus address the man that just killed Caroline. “You would really kill us here out in the open. Knowing who and what we are?”

As the older man with scars saunters towards them drawing a knife pointing it at them. “One way or another you will die if not from my hands it will be from someone’s. The order has declared it.”

Xxx

That morning:

Blonde perky Caroline Forbes wakes up excited for the day to begin today is her sixteenth birthday. All she wants is a convertible bug doesn’t matter what color anything except green or orange.

Her bedroom is as bright and perky as she is and everyone has a dark side too all of that is reflected in her room. With tea dye walls the back wall behind her bed is a black piece of wood with white mandalas over it. As she is getting out of bed with a baby blue padded headboard with her pink striped comfortable and pink and black pillows. She puts on some music and dances as she picks out of her clothes for the day. The sun is shining through the windows of her little nook she has a window seat of red cushions, she has a chair, a footstool and a beanbag in the nook seating area. With her desk one one side and her mirror on the other.

While in her en-suite bathroom taking a shower her mind wonders to the color of car she wants a convertible bug maybe red, or pink, yellow could be cool but maybe blinding they do live in San Francisco, baby blue or regular blue could be pretty.

When she finishes her shower she puts on a pair of denim capris, pink spaghetti strapped tiered cami and a navy textured jacket if she gets cold she also has on black wedges and a silver heart necklace.

She goes down to the kitchen which her mom gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning sweetie.” She hands her a bag which when she unwraps it, its a bag of Reese’s, a new black sweater and two new necklaces one is a gold tear drop with gold balls along the inside surrounding a crescent moon and the other is a tube necklace with three lines hanging down but connected to the other side of the necklace.

Caroline hugs her mom. “Thank you I love them.”

“Your welcome there is one more gift but you can’t see it until tonight.”

She nods and as she is picking up a banana. “Did dad send anything?”

“I’m sorry honey he didn’t we don’t even know where he is its likely he forgot.”

After swallowing some of the banana she looks up at her mom and puts on a fake smile. “It’s ok, I know that he left years ago but I just thought that he would send me at least a card on my birthday its not everyday your adoptive daughter turns sixteen.”

Liz pulls her daughter into another hug, even though she is not the biological parent of Caroline she loves Caroline no different.

Xxx

Before school starts Caroline and her two best friends brunettes Davina Claire and her cousin Enzo Claire are talking by one of the stairwells. “I keep having this strange feeling to visit coit tower I don’t know why. I’m going to try to ignore it.” Caroline rubs the side of her temple ever since, Davina and Enzo picked her up in Enzo’ black Jeep everything has been incredible loud every little noise is amplified she swears she could hear he inner workings of the Jeep it’s giving her a headache.

Enzo’s parents died when he was five and a half, and he was sent from Southampton England to San Francisco to live with his cousin so he has a British accent. “Don’t look now cuz London is coming.”

Davina peaks over her shoulder and bites her lip and just like that Kol and Klaus Mikaelson a devilish duo on a good day are coming down the hallway. Kol has a basketball he is bouncing off the walls and catching it. Klaus and Kol stop in front of the staircase and Kol hands his ball to Klaus so he can flirt with Davina, while Klaus is waiting for them to finish he throws the ball above Caroline’s head and catches it so he throws it again above Caroline’s head who is not thrilled and just waiting for the ball to hit her in the head she reaches up and grabs the ball.

Both Caroline and Klaus walk towards each other with different ideas in mind, Klaus wants the ball back and Caroline wants to give him a piece of her mind. “Listen just because your attractive and British and have dimples and look really good in a Henley.”

Enzo pinches her to stay on topic. “Right doesn’t mean you can throw a ball above my head and I’ll be totally fine with it.”

With one hand Caroline throws the basketball down the crowded hallway and it swooshes into a garbage can near the exit of the school. Students in the hallway are amazed and mummer did you see that, Klaus is speechless and looking down at Caroline but Klaus is not the only one speechless so is Caroline and that whole group.

It’s Enzo’s voice that breaks the silence. “How did you do that?”

Caroline swallows and still shocked. “I don’t know lets go.”

Her and Enzo grab Davina’s wrist and drag her off she yells back to Kol “Talk to you later.”

As Caroline is rushing down the opposite hallway she threw the ball in with Enzo and Davina right behind her Klaus and Kol share a look and watch them flee with amazement.

Xxx

Caroline comes out of science and has to go down the stairs to history when Klaus who is coming up the stairs stops her by putting his arm on the wall and backs her up until her back is against the wall. “ That was impressive earlier. You’ll have to show me your moves.”

Caroline nervous she knows his sister Rebekah better they are friends since the Mikaelsons moved here three years ago she can count on one hand the number of conversations she and Klaus have had one when Rebekah introduced Caroline to her brothers Kol and Klaus she said hi he said hello that was it. “ Moves I dont have any moves. That earlier was a freak of nature.”

“I wasn’t talking about basketball.”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. “Subtle.”

Klaus puts a hand on her waist. “Oh I’m not trying to be.”

Caroline has never been this close to Klaus it’s like she can hear his heart beating. She always thought he was Rebekah’s jerky older brother. “ Why are you talking me?”

He leans in and smells her neck. “You smell nice.”

Caroline now a little uncomfortable but when he smelt her his heartbeat jumped. “ Ok its called taking a shower and perfume.”

If it was even possible Klaus gets even closer to her. “Why are you giving me such a hard time Caroline Forbes.”

“We’ve never had a conversation.”

“Looks like we’ll have to change that. I feel like we are going to be great friends.”

Klaus leans down to give Caroline a kiss as his lips hover over hers they both hear. “Klaus!”

They both look at the stairs going upstairs and Rebekah is coming down. With Klaus distracted Caroline makes her escape as she is going around Klaus she smiles at Rebekah. “Hey beks.”

Rebekah smiles at her.

Xxx

Klaus, Rebekah and Kol are sitting in the library and Rebekah hits Klaus in the arm. “Really klaus.”

“We need to know there is only one explanation for the basketball trick this morning.”

“And if she wasn’t she would be dead. And you would be prime suspect number one.”

Kol chimes in with “The basketball stunt is all over school everyone is talking about it.”

“If Rebekah would of not interrupted my test we would know.”

“She’s my friend plus Nik you were coming off creepy. Seriously smelling her neck we don’t have a specific smell making us different then everyone else.”

Klaus rolls his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas.”

Kol asks. “You’ve been friends with her for three years and you’ve never noticed anything.”

Rebekah side eyes her older brothers. “Its not like we are doing ritual sacrifices and I can see if she heals quickly or lazer tag to see if she has night vision, we’re not doing cheerleading or gymnastics to see if she can jump high. Am I supposed to pretend to want to paint her nails and see if claws extend.”

“We need to find out before they find her that is if she is one of us.”

Xxx

Caroline works at a clothing store/bookstore with a cafe. She doesn’t understand the merge of the two but the clothing store goes into the little cafe off the bookstore. There’s no middle wall between the two. While at the counter of the clothing store a brunette teenager comes to her. “ I’m new to this town, do you know cool spots to check out?”

Caroline turns around and comes face to face with the new student at her school Stefan salvatore she had heard there was a new student. “There is a nice cafe over there. It’s California so people like to hang outside.”

Since it’s a slow day at the shop Caroline and Stefan sit in cafe and talk. “How do you like San Francisco so far?”

“Its nice my dad moves us around a lot. Its just the three of us my dad my older brother and me my mom died years ago.”

“I’m sorry, my dad left years ago its like he’s dead we never hear from him.”

As Stefan is leaving Caroline watches him leave he’s cute.

Xxx

All day Caroline has had this lingering feeling to visit coil tower, she doesn’t know why she visited this place when she was younger before her dad left. As she is walking up the stairs to the building she notices a man in all black and has scars on his face. Three claw marks down the right side of his cheek and neck. The man is watching her go into the tower. As she is looking around at the base of the tower she notices the guy is following her. She figures she’ll lose him going up to the tower since there are thirteen levels of stairs.

Xxx

Present:

Rebekah and Kol had snuck away to find Caroline’s body which people have started to surround around. As Kol and Rebekah are trying to get through Kol announces. “Nothing to see here folks just a prank.”

They hear a women say. “A prank I saw her fall from the tower.”

As Kol is lifting Caroline up Rebekah goes over to the women. “Are you sure your feeling ok your saying a lot of crazy stuff.”

Xxx

Klaus opens the door to the penthouse as Kol brings Caroline in, Rebekah rushes over to the couch to make room for Caroline’s body. Their older brother Finn who is on the phone with his wife Sage while looking out the window sees their reflections in the window and pulls the phone away from his ear. “Did you get to her before they did?”

“No but we did bring her here. When she wakes we will explain everything.”

Finn turns around to see Caroline’s lifeless body laying on the couch. “And how do you know this girl is one of us?”

Kol looks up at him. “She one handed tossed my basketball down a crowded hallway and made a perfect basket in a garage can.”

Finn puts the phone back to his ear to tell Sage he loves her and he’ll call her back. “How long has she been like this?”

All three of his younger siblings look at each other. “An hour.”

“The first death and the loss of innocence is always the longest to come back from.”

Xxx

As Kol’s popcorn is finishing in the microwave Caroline’s eyes open and she looks around at the dark penthouse she is in. Moonlight shining in from a wall of windows, she’s laying on a black couch and there two black chairs on each side of the couch. The last thing she remembers is being at coil tower and that creepy guy following her.

Rebekah is in her bedroom and Klaus is in his studio, Kol went to go make popcorn and Finn was in charge of watching Caroline’s body to see if it did something. While waiting Finn called Sage back he wasn’t paying attention to the couch and the now awake blonde.

Caroline looks around and sees Kol in the kitchen pouring popcorn into a bowl and a man she does not know talking on the phone she gets up and is a little lightheaded really confused on how she got here and her headache is still hurting. As she is going towards the elevator Kol comes out of the kitchen and puts an arm around her waist and picks her up.

“You can’t leave yet.”

She kicks him but it does nothing, she never know Kol was this strong. “What is happening and why are you holding me hostage?”

Kol carries her back over to the couch. “I know it looks like that but this is for you own good. Finn you had one job watch her. Can you get Klaus and Rebekah.”

Finn puts his phone back in his pocket. “I’m in charge here you go get Klaus and Rebekah I’ll watch her.”

“No offense Finn but you didn’t do a good job the last time and I think she could take you.”

Finn flicks his hand and claws comes out of his nails. “I think I can handle one teenage girl.”

Kol rolls his eyes and leaves the living room to get his brother and sister. Caroline looks at the elevator and Finn who is looking at his claws. “ I wouldn’t if I were you. Like my brother said I know this looks bad but we are trying to help you.”

“Help me by keeping me in this dark fortress.”

Finn looks over at her and raises an eyebrow. “Fortress, please this a penthouse.”

Kol re enters with Klaus and Rebekah and Caroline rushes for Rebekah and hugs her finally a friendly familiar face.

Rebekah gets her back on the couch and Klaus sits on the arm of the couch next to Caroline his feet on the couch and arms resting on his knees while Kol sits in a chair off to the side and Finn leans up against the window. Caroline looks at them and they are all looking at her. “Will someone tell me what is going on and how I got here?”

All the siblings look at each other none of them want to explain this it’s hard to explain. Klaus begins. “Kol picked you up after you fell and brought you here.”

Kol adds. “To your death you fell and died.”

Caroline shoots up and exclaims. “What I died. I’m dead, the afterlife is full of Mikaelsons. I can’t die it’s my sixteenth birthday I still have not got a car yet.”

Kol looks over at his siblings. “I don’t know whether to be insulted by that.”

Finn sighs. “How did I end up with this?”

“Freya is busy, Elijah is on a date and Sage is out of town on business.” Finn glares at his sister.

Klaus looks up at Kol while Rebekah tries to get Caroline to sit back down. “I was going to ease her into that tidbit.”

Rebekah gets Caroline to sit back down and is rubbing her arm up and down. “Your not dead... anymore. Look you are like us your Mai.”

Caroline looks over at Klaus and raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me I’m not yours.”

Rebekah tries this time. “No Mai are a group of people who have amazing abilities were not all human but not all god we are descendants of a powerful goddess Bestet we were once protectors of humans and used to help Pharaohs but we got sick of taking orders and the mai and humans had a falling out, for centuries now we’ve been hunted. That man earlier with the scars he was sent to kill you and if we didn’t intervene he would of kept killing you.”

“Kept killing me how many lives do I have?”

Finn from the windows tells her. “Nine we all have nine some refer to us as Demigods, our abilities manifest when we are teenagers.”

Caroline looks at Rebekah. “Is this a joke?”

Rebekah shakes her head no.

“I have claws like him.” She points at Finn.

Rebekah lifts Caroline’s hands up and her finger nails are longer and look like claws. Caroline’s eyes widen. “How do they go away?”

“Relax.”

“That’s easy for you to say you didn’t just learn you died and came back with claws and have had a headache all day.” She glares at Kol for telling her to relax.

Finn leans off the window taking charge. “I know you’ve just been told a lot of things and processing but maybe you would like to go home, you said it was your birthday why don’t you go home and celebrate.”

His three siblings look up at him Finn sometimes can be so insensitive. Caroline nods and Finn flicks a finger to Klaus to take her home.

In the elevator down to the lobby Caroline is pacing and Klaus stops her and puts both hands on her shoulders. “You need to relax did you forget that part where we are being hunted if someone sees claws they will try to kill us.”

Caroline nods and tries to make them go away by closing her eyes tightly but nothing. “Breath with me.”

As the elevator doors open the claws disappear.

Xxx

Klaus drives them to her house, as he drives he asks her, “You were born in the Ukraine right?”

Caroline nods. “How did you know?”

“Mai are not born in America, we come from Europe, Ukraine, Russia that’s where my family was born we moved to London later. Since Mai and humans have had a falling out we can never have a intimate relationship with them. You can not date a human I saw you earlier at that clothing store flirting with that new guy at school that’s all it can be Caroline if you kiss him something bad will happen.”

“Bad how bad?”

“If a Mai kisses a human the human dies best case scenario paralyze before death.”

Caroline turns towards him as he pulls up to her house. “Mai can only kiss mai.”

Klaus nods. “Want to practice.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Any more changes?”

“Claws, enhanced hearing, faster reflexes, hyper awareness, accelerated healing, night vision, your stronger now and what am I forgetting oh yeah a tail.��

“What?”

Klaus laughs “Just kidding. About the tail everything else you do get.”

As she is opening the car door. She tells him. “Not funny.”

“Don’t worry one of us will always be there for you, watching out for you.”

Xxx

As Caroline is coming up the front stairs of the two story home she shares with her mom. When she opens the door Davina and Enzo jump out and yell “Surprise!”

Caroline screams and in seconds Klaus is right behind her he places a hand on her shoulder and she jumps they both can hear how fast Caroline’s heart is beating. Klaus leans down and whispers in her ear. His breath tickling as she hears. “Breath.”

She looks up at him surprised he’s here, she thought he left how did he get there so fast. “You forgot this in the car.” He hands her a long black velvet jewelry box. “Happy birthday.”

Xxx

After he leaves Davina and Enzo surround her. “What was Klaus Mikaelson doing here? And what did he give you.”

“You two have had quite the journey today from where you two were this morning.”

Caroline rubs her temple she can hears heartbeats, car’s driving past, clocks ticking, conversations in other homes their TVs. People going for nightly jogs she can hear their music. “Its been an interesting day.” She opens the jewelry box and her eyes widen at the beautiful diamond infinity bracelet.

Liz comes home and sees her daughter and two best friends on the couch. “Your present is here.”

Caroline’s eyes widen and Liz puts her hands over her daughters and guides her outside and there in front of the house on the street is a powder baby blue convertible bug. “Ahhh thank you so much mom.” Caroline flings her arms around her mom’s neck.

Xxx

Later that night after Davina and Enzo went home Liz pulls out a small cinnamon crumb cake for two she gives Caroline and fork and they sit at the island and eat it. After they finish Liz tucks a piece of hair behind Caroline’s ear. “Did you have a good birthday sweetie.”

“It’s definitely one for the books.”

Liz pulls out a card and hands it to her daughter. “This was in the mailbox.”

The envelope does not have a return address it’s addressed to her. She opens the card and all it says is Happy Birthday H.R.

Every year she gets a card from H.R. she doesn’t know who they are and there is never a return address. She has all of them in a shoebox under her bed. One day she hopes to find out who H.R. is.

Xxx

As Caroline is drifting off to sleep Klaus is sitting on her roof watching to see if any harm will come to her. Also her email dings and it’s a email from her father that says happy birthday.

[susiequaz12]

Carrot Top- 13: Punished

I guess these chapters are getting progressively longer and longer. I think I’m okay with that. As always, my inbox is always open with any questions about the story/characters/world/tag list/etc, or if you just want to talk! So anyways, here’s part 13! (Side note: I didn’t expect to actually continue so far with this and have it have so many parts, but I’ve already got 18 chapters written and a whole storyline, so I guess there’s no turning back now.)

CW: (Finally a bit of fluff/comfort) not for long though, restraints, muzzled, dehumanization, captivity, non con touching (nonsexual), possessive whumper, blood.

Tag list: @imagination1reality0, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @thehopelessopus 

The next 24 hours while Andrew continued to rest from Howe’s procedure were arguably worse than some of the previous times he’d been alone with Splice.

He was constantly bothered. 

After Splice had placed the muzzle on and left, Howe came in looking exasperated. He cut open the leg of his pants, and stitched up Andrew’s leg as best as he could before putting the boy back to sleep. When he finally woke up a while later, Splice came in just to torment him. He gave him another grammar lesson- removing the muzzle for a few minutes just to hear Andrew plead and beg out of fear. He would wait for the boy to give him the answers that he wanted before placing it back on his face again.

That happened several times. And by the third or fourth lesson, Andrew began to believe it. The words that he was forced to repeat echoed over and over in his mind.

He belonged to Splice.

He was an object to be used whenever, and wherever that he saw fit.

Because he deserved it.

- - -

When his chest had healed enough for Howe to remove the bands holding him down, the boy found that he still couldn’t move. 

It was as if his limbs didn’t work. They were stiff and achy from being stuck in the same position for so long, his body weakened and deprived. He let out a weak cry as he attempted to bring a hand up to his face. He barely got his wrist off of the table before the muscles in his arm gave out, crashing back down. 

The doctor placed a gentle hand on his back and lifted him up to sitting. Andrew whined through the muzzle as his muscles flared up, and his head lolled to his chest. Howe began to rub the feeling back into the boy’s arms, stimulating his muscles, making sure they still worked.

With the Doctor’s help, he guided the boy to the other side of the room. No doubt he would have carried him if he could, but the boy was at least a head taller than Howe. As Andrew’s toes met the floor, his legs immediately buckled under his weight. If it were not for the Doctor’s steady arm around his back, Andrew would have crashed to the floor. 

It took a few moments for the boy to regain some balance before they were able to move away from the table. Andrew limped drastically, putting most of his weight on one leg, and the doctor, as he shuffled and dragged his feet trying to keep himself upright. 

Howe helped him change into some cleaner cotton pants- the same grey capris from earlier- and pulled a thin, white t-shirt over his head. He sat the boy down on the edge of the soft bed he had initially been placed in when he first met Howe. 

Andrew immediately sank into the softer material. It was much nicer than the examination table- far more comfortable. It had soft sheets, and a thin blanket with an old pillow, but it was comfortable. 

To Andrew it felt like a cloud. Like he was floating. 

He let his body fall into the soft bed as his muscles collapsed underneath him, letting the material of the mattress contour to his aching body- cradling him in the comfort. He didn’t put up a fight or a struggle when Howe restrained his ankles to the bottom of the bed. 

The boy curled over on his side, tucking his hands to his chest as the blanket was pulled over top of him. 

He huffed a small sigh of relief and comfort as he nuzzled his head up against the pillow.

He’d cherish this while he had it, because he knew it wouldn’t last long.

- - -

When Andrew was healed enough to no longer need the constant watchful eye of Howe, he was moved to a cell. 

Well, they called it his room, but it was essentially a cell. 

It was kept inside of the nicer part of the building, the part that connected to the lavish mansion that Splice lived in. Andrew could tell that it was originally meant to be an office, a storage room or something. But all the walls were bare- there were no windows, no outlets, or a lightswitch or anything. The only thing inside the room was a small closet in the corner furnished with a toilet, a cot with a single blanket, and a bench on the opposite side of the room. 

Everything was bolted into the tiled floor.

The door was always heavily bolted from the outside, and guarded with at least two people. Andrew was monitored whenever he left the room, and whenever he came back. It wouldn’t surprise him if there were cameras hidden in the small room as well. 

It had been three days since he’d been moved from that medical room. 

And once he’d realized he’d been here over a week, he knew no one was coming anytime soon. 

His friends were mad at him, surely. 

He’d gotten into a fight with Justin before he left, and it was all his fault. Ali would surely take his side.

All he could think was that if he hadn’t gotten mad at them, hadn’t wandered off on his own, he wouldn’t be here now. 

So Splice was right. 

He deserved it.

Andrew laid on his back on the cot. He had his feet wrapped up in the blanket, the rest of him exposed. His feet were always cold. He wouldn’t dare to ask for something as small as a pair of socks. 

Maybe he could ask for a book or something. Or even a pad of paper- he’d been thinking of taking up drawing again. It was something he was really into during high school, but he’d lost it over the years. 

He just wanted something simple to fight the boredom. 

Something to fight against the monotony. 

Wake up, eat, endure through whatever the heck Splice felt like doing that day, eat again, sleep. And repeat. 

Most days were filled with examinations. He sat in a room filled with “doctors” (the fake ones that Howe had talked about), and was poked and prodded and violated and examined and tested on. 

After all, that’s what Splice did here. He captured their kind, people with their abilities, to examine and experiment on them and see how they worked. 

And then he used those experiments to genetically modify their abilities. 

Some days when Splice got upset, he would take it out on Andrew. There was never a moment the boy went without pain, or discomfort. Constant fear, anxiety, and trauma, invaded his new day-to-day.  

A knock sounded on the door.

Here we go again.

Splice sauntered into the room, carrying a small plate and a glass of water. 

“Good morning carrot top!”

The boy immediately scrambled back into the corner of the wall upon seeing the man but quickly stopped himself.

Splice chuckled. “One of these days you’ll stop acting so scared when you see me. Do I really frighten you that much?”

Andrew paused. Should he answer? The man had taught him many things while he had been there. The consequences that came from talking out of turn had been one of them.

“N- no sir. Sorry sir.” He lowered his head towards the bed and tried to steady the shaking in his limbs as the man stepped closer. He sat on the edge of the bed and held out the plate.

“Eat up. Come on now.” 

Andrew tentatively took the plate. A single piece of toast with a protein spread on it. He gingerly took a bite and kept his eyes down as he chewed.

When he finally managed to choke down his breakfast, the man handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank.

Splice removed the blanket from his feet and unattached the chains that kept him tied down to the cot. On shaky legs he managed to rise and move to the closet in the corner to use the bathroom. When he was done, he limped back to the bed and sat down on the cot.

Splice reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled out Andrew’s least favorite part of the day. 

The muzzle.

The foul thing was taken off while he slept and while he ate. Other than for those few times, he was constantly forced to wear it.

He saw the thick leather coming towards his face and imagined the bit in his mouth. All he could feel was it suffocating him, trapping in his breath and his words. Making it hard to swallow, forcing him to choke on his own blood, and vomit. He was sick of wearing it constantly. He wanted to be able to speak he wanted to breathe freely, he wanted to-

“--no.”

The word came out before he realized what he had said. He clamped his hands over his mouth and shook his head. The tears already poured down his face as Splice recoiled in shock.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?” 

The boy kept his hands over his mouth as he mumbled. “I- I’m sorry, msorry- I shouldn’t hve, I- I didn’t please- please, sir, I-”

Splice threw the plate and cup down to the floor where it clattered. The boy flinched. 

“Did you tell me no?”

“I’m - I’msorry I’m sorry, please don’t- I- I”

Splice grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand and pulled him off of the bed to his feet. He stood on shaky legs, most of his weight leaning to one side.

“Kneel.” 

The boy surprised himself with how quickly his knees hit the ground. He winced as pain flared up his leg- the one that had been stabbed through a few days ago.

“Who do you belong to?” 

Andrew sobbed. Wrists shaking as they were held up in front of him like a forced plea. He leaned forward and put his head in his own hands. 

“You- I- I belong to you.”

“Good.” Splice stated. His other hand went to the back of Andrew’s hair. He pushed the boy’s head into his own chest as he knelt on the floor in front of him. He kept a grip firmly on the boy’s wrists as he stroked the pale hair. The hair that had once been colored with fire, just like the boy’s attitude only a few days ago.

“Now, what did you do wrong?”

Andrew’s chest shook with a sob. 

“I- I said no.”

“Good, and?” Splice prompted.

“And I- I spoke out of turn. I didn- didn’t do what I- what I was s’posed to.”

“Good.” Splice shuffled forward on his knees. The boy leaned backwards to accommodate and Spliced inched further as he did so. 

“You didn’t do what you’re supposed to, exactly.”

He kept a grip on the boy’s wrists and on the back of his hair as he moved forward, pushing the boy down until his back was forced to the ground. 

Andrew’s eyes got wide out of confusion and he let out a small whimper as he untangled his legs out from underneath him to lie flat on his back.

“Can you tell me what happens when you don’t do what you’re supposed to?” Splice moved his hand from the back of Andrew’s hair to the collar around his neck. Once again marking his ownership with a simple piece of fabric.

Andrew choked on his words. Knowing the answer but not wanting to say it. “I- I get- I get punished.”

“Very good.” 

Andrew barely noticed as Splice pulled the small knife out of his suit coat. 

He only noticed when it began to dig into his arm.

He flinched out of instinct to try and move away and Splice tsked under his breath,

“Oh no, hold still now. You can be good, right?”

Splice let go of the boy’s hands and rearranged himself so he was no longer kneeling besides Andrew, but on top of him. One knee pinned his left shoulder down, while the other straddled his opposite side, forcing his arm to the ground.

“You can be good- right?”

Oh no- Splice had to repeat himself, the boy thought. That was bad, he was going to get angry, and when he got angry he would be punished again, and being punished hurt- and he couldn’t, he didn’t want-

The boy nodded, shaking his head eagerly, tears filling his eyes. He wanted to be good. He needed to be good because if he wasn’t- then-

Andrew winced and clenched his eyes shut as he felt the same cold hands on him.

Splice used one hand to push up the sleeve of his thin t-shirt, and pressed the boy’s shoulder into the floor. The other gripped the knife, and began to start where he had left off.

The knife dug into the top of his arm, near his shoulder. 

Andrew whimpered through his teeth. He kept his eyes tight and his breaths shallow, but he did not scream. 

The blade traveled down, down through his bicep, stopping halfway between his shoulder and his elbow. The blood seeped out, warm and sticky as it dripped onto the floor around him. 

The knife left the cut and Andrew breathed out a sigh of relief. His neck arched back, chest rising in pain as it entered his skin again, only an inch away from the first cut. He clenched his teeth and tried to breathe, but with the weight on top of him, and the pain rushing through him, it seemed nearly impossible. 

Finally the knife left and he opened his eyes to see the knife in front of his face.

“Think of these as tally marks.” Splice stated. Andrew’s eyes remained deadly focused on the knife in front of his eyes. “One, for saying no. And another one, as a reminder.” 

The flat side of the blade pressed into Andrew’s cheek and wiped across his face. Andrew closed his eyes, heart pounding at the anticipation of pain when he felt the cold metal across his other cheek. The rest of his own blood from the knife was wiped off onto his face. 

He winced and his eyes shot open as a hand wrapped around the top of his arm. He struggled to stay quiet, struggled to breathe as the pain shot through his arm. But as Splice squeezed the muscles in his arm, he couldn’t help it.

A strangled cry erupted from his mouth followed by a bottled up scream. 

“A reminder to do as you are told. A reminder that you no longer make your own choices. Understand?” 

Andrew nodded through his scream. 

“Do you understand?” 

A nod wasn’t good enough.

Andrew breathed through the pain. Hissing in air through his teeth. Splice gripped his arm tighter.

“I- I arrgh! I- ah- I uh-understand.”

“Good.” 

Splice released his grip and patted the side of the boy’s face, leaving a bloody handprint on his cheek. He reached and ruffled through his hair, leaving it sticky and matted with his own blood.

The knife wavered tauntingly in front of Andrew’s eyes. “You know, I quite like the look of blood on your face. It suits you.”

Andrew shut his eyes as the tip of the knife poked into his forehead, and then trailed around his temple, down to his jawline. It left a faint trail of blood through the skin that mingled with the rest that had been smeared on his face.

 Splice stood up, leaving the boy lying on the floor. He picked up the plate and cup that he had thrown earlier and put the bloody knife back in his pocket.

Placing a hand in the middle of Andrew’s back, he helped him sit up and put the muzzle on his face. Andrew sobbed through pain and embarrassment, but he did not struggle or fight back. He allowed the man to buckle the leather behind his head, a little tighter than usual, and his sobs and cries were cut off as the bit sat tightly in his mouth once more. 

“Come on now, don’t cry. You want to be good for later tonight. The doctors have a new drug they want to try, and you better be the perfect patient.”

[hookedonapirate]

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cabin on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.  

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

A/N: Many thanks go to @ultraluckycatnd for her wonderful beta-ing skills and @onceuponaprincessworld as always for her encouragement and letting me bounce ideas off of her.

So a few things before we get started with this chapter.

You've probably noticed, I made Emma older than she is usually portrayed in fanfics since being chief of surgery requires an extensive medical background, education, training, experience, etc. Basically this is how old she would be ten years later from the OUAT pilot. With that said, I've made the other main and supporting characters older as well. Emma and David are 38-39, and Killian, Elsa, Anna and MM are 32-35. Just wanted to clarify that to avoid confusion, though I do mention some of their ages in the story. I'm doing my best to keep the timeline consistent but if anything doesn't make sense with the timeline, or in general, please don't hesitate to ask me about it either on here or Tumblr.

Secondly, I know some of you, or maybe all of you are hoping Emma will contact the police about Neal, but keep in mind, Emma's a suspect and yes, contacting the police would be in her best interest, but Emma's going to be paranoid about every move she makes because she overanalyzes and thinks everything through. And any move that could potentially bring more attention to herself regarding graham's murder could effect her career she has worked so hard to obtain. So please keep these things in mind before you get too upset with her.

Also, this chapter is in Killian's pov, so we will see the video footage of Emma's interview. To avoid a bunch of repetition this chapter shows different points of the interview so that's why different questions are shown in this one, except for a few that I included in both chapters..

You will find that Killian has to iron out some wrinkles in his relationships with David and Elsa, so this chapter and the next will include some angst, but I think all of you lovelies are going to like what I have planned for chapter 5, so please bear with me until then :)

Okay enough of my rambling and on with the story. Thanks for reading!

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Catch up: Pro I Ch 1 I Ch 2

Chapter 3

“Uncle Killian!”

  With a big smile on his face, Killian watches his nephews charging toward him. He sets down his tackle box and fishing pole and wipes the sweat off his brow as he steps off the dock. “Oof,” he feigns a pained noise with a chuckle as Leo tackles him. Killian picks him up, drawing him into an enormous bear hug, noticing his nephew is heavier than the last time Killian picked him up. “You’re growing too fast. Soon you'll be taller than me.”

  “Nah-ah,” Leo laughs, shaking his head. 

  “Uncle Ki-wi!” Liam wobbles toward him and wraps his arms around Killian’s legs. 

  “Can you tell they missed you?” Mary Margaret asks as she catches up with her children, David hot on her heels, their hair rustled by the wind.

  “No, not at all,” Killian chuckles, setting Leo down to pick up Liam. “It’s been too long. Far too long.” The two brothers are four years apart, and though Killian is not related to them by blood, he’s like a brother to David, thus Uncle Killian to David’s sons. “I missed you too,” Killian says, dropping a kiss to the crown of Liam’s head. 

  The little lad will be three years old soon, but it feels like only yesterday when Killian cradled the newborn in his arms as the parents announced they were naming him after a man who died a hero—David’s best friend and partner, and Killian’s brother. 

  He sets little Liam on his feet and looks up at David, noting the laptop satchel strapped around his shoulder. He fooled Killian into thinking this was only a social visit by wearing his casual clothes—khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. And Mary Margaret is carrying a tote bag of beach supplies, ready to lounge on the beach.

  “Did you catch anything?” David asks. 

  “Fishing is not about the catch, mate.”

  David grins. “I know. It’s an excuse to drink during the day, right?” 

  Killian scoffs playfully and waves his words. “Like I need an excuse.”

  They share a laugh as they draw each other into a hug and pat one another on the back. They’ve been friends long before Killian joined the Storybrooke Police Department. David’s four years older than him and the same age as Liam would've been—thirty-nine—but the three of them were pretty much inseparable. And after Liam passed, Killian and David shared a heartache neither would ever fully recover from. “I’ve missed you, Jones.”

  “Missed you too.” After they break the hug, Killian turns to Mary Margaret, smiling warmly at her. “Thanks for bringing the boys.” 

  “Of course,” she says, throwing her arms around him. She’s six years younger than David and has been married to him for ten years. They met right after she graduated from college and moved to Storybrooke to take a teaching job. She is now the vice principal at Forest Grove Elementary. 

  “Sorry if I smell like fish and sweat,” Killian apologizes as he wraps his arms around her.

  “Oh wow, you do,” she laughs, pinching her nose but doesn’t pull away. “That’s okay. Wouldn’t expect anything less since you live in this fishing town.” 

  He chuckles. “You know, I could’ve just visited you all in Storybrooke if I had been given more notice. I could’ve saved you a trip.” He didn’t even know they were coming over until last night when David had called him out of the blue.

  Mary Margaret waves off his words as they break the hug. “Nonsense. The boys were dying to see their Uncle Killian, and they've been begging us to take them to the beach, so we thought we'd kill two birds with one stone.”

  “It’s nice to see all of you again.” He looks at David, narrowing his eyes. “Though I have a feeling this isn't just a pleasure trip for you, is it?”

  David gives into a grin and pats Killian on the shoulder. “Is it ever just pleasure with me?”

  Killian chuckles and shakes his head. “Never.” Outwardly he’s relaxed and cheerful, but inwardly, he has a bad feeling about whatever David wishes to discuss with him.

  “Uncle Killian, will you make sandcastles with us?!” Leo asks as his mother hands him and Liam a big sand bucket packed with sandcastle molds and a shovel.

  Killian opens his mouth to answer but David beats him to the punch. “Actually, we have some important things to discuss first. Then Killian can make sandcastles with you.”

  The boys groan their disapproval, Leo gets over it quickly and wastes no time racing off toward the shoreline, Liam wobbling after him.

  “Not so fast, you two! Sunblock, first, then floaties!” Mary Margaret calls out, following their trail of messy footprints in the sand.

  When Leo halts in his tracks and turns around, going to his mother as she spreads out a blanket on the sand and retrieves a bottle of sunblock from her tote, Liam trails behind his brother.

  “Anyone want something to drink?” Killian asks them.

  “Sure, I’ll take some iced tea,” Mary Margaret replies.

  “Do you have Capri Suns?” Leo asks.

  “Of course I do. What kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t stock up on Capri Suns for when my nephews come to visit?”

  “Yes!” Leo exclaims, fisting the air.

  Mary Margaret pulls off Liam’s shirt and rubs lotion over his back and arms. “Thank you, Killian. And you don’t have to worry about Liam, he has his sippy cup with juice in it.”

  “Okay.” Killian turns his head to look at David. “Want a beer?”

  “Sure, you got Lone Star?”

  Killian’s lips stretch into a wide grin. “Any other beer would be treason.” After he grabs his fishing gear and stores it in the garage, he and David head inside the house. 

  Killian goes to the refrigerator and pulls out a pitcher of sweet tea, a fruit punch Capri Sun and two bottles of beer, setting them on the island counter. He pops off the caps of the beers before handing a bottle to David. “What important things did you have in mind to discuss?”

  David holds up his bag. “Take a wild guess.”

  Killian sighs as he pours Mary Margaret a tall glass of tea. “And here I thought you just wanted to catch up on old times.”

  “I do, but I also want to discuss a case with you,” David admits softly before taking a swig of his beer.

  Killian’s jaw twitches as he glares at his old friend. “Then you’re wasting your time. I came here to Port Lavaca to get away from that stuff.”

  “Which is exactly why I brought it to you.” David sets down his beer and places his laptop bag on the counter, unzipping it. “Just give me five minutes, okay?”

  “And why should I?”

  “Because you’ll want your hands on this case, trust me.” David pulls out his computer and sets it up on the counter.

  “How are Elsa and Camila doing?” Killian asks, deliberately changing the subject. He’s not interested in whatever case David is about to present to him, nor is he pretending to be. 

  “Why don't you ask them yourself?”

  “Because you see them and talk to them more often than I do. I didn’t even get invited to Anna’s wedding, which I’m positive the Maid of Honor had something to with.”

  David looks up from his open laptop, furrowing his brows. “Doesn't the bride and groom normally choose the people on the guest list? Mary Margaret and I chose our own guests for our wedding.”

  “True, but even if Anna and Kristoff wanted to invite me, you don’t think Elsa talked them out of it?”

  David shrugs. “Maybe, but if she did, who’s fault is that?”

  “David…” Killian mutters with a pained expression, his heart constricting. “You know my relationship with Elsa hasn’t been the best since Liam passed.” 

  David turns around and plants his hands on his hips, gaping at Killian. “Hasn’t been the best? It’s almost nonexistent.”

  “Aye, because of what happened,” Killian states bitterly. “Since then, she’s only ever let me stop by so I can pick up my niece and spend time with her.” He desperately wants to change that though. He wants his sister-in-law back, he wants the friendship they once had, and he wants to spend time with both her and Camila again. He’s tired of missing out on important milestones in Camila's life all because her mother and uncle prefer not to be in the same room together. He’s just been too much of a coward to tell Elsa that. To apologize for letting his temper get the best of him.

  “Do you blame her? You let her husband’s killer get away with murder,” David scolds.

  Killian slams his beer on the counter, anger surging through him. “I loved him too, okay?! I was only trying to prove—no, you know what?” He raises his open palms in protest. “I’m not doing this with you. Not today, not ever.” He gathers the beverages and storms out, the backdoor squeaking on its corroded hinges as he strides onto the deck and rushes down the steps. He doesn’t need this shite. His nephews are here to visit with him and he’s not about to waste the opportunity.

  “Killian, wait!” David calls out from the deck as Killian trudges through the sand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that! I know you loved him! We all did!”

  Killian turns around, pinning him with a glare as David makes his way down the steps. “He was my brother. I’m the last person in the world who wanted that piece of scum to get away with ending his life.”

  “I know.” David sighs as he inches closer. “Which is why I’m here.”

  Killian narrows his eyes, his brows knitted in confusion. “I thought you were here to discuss a case?” 

  A pained expression etches David’s features. “I am. A case involving your brother’s killer.”

  Killian’s fists clench around the drinks, his jaw tightening at the thought of another innocent victim falling at the hands of—

  No, he can't do this. He’s not going down that path again; it only leads to anger, bitterness and vengeance. He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m done with detective work. I’m not interested.” He walks away again, heading toward Mary Margaret and his nephews.

  “What if I said there's a good possibility you could catch him this time? Then would you be interested?”

  Killian stops in his tracks, gazing out at the sea as David’s words slice through him. No, he shouldn’t care about catching Liam’s killer anymore. He gave up a long time ago. But somehow he finds himself turning around to face David again, curiosity clawing at his gut. “How?”

  A triumphant grin crawls across David’s lips. “I knew that would gain your attention.”

  “Just tell me,” Killian demands ardently.

  David steps toward him. “I'll tell you when you agree to hear me out.” He holds up the five fingers of his right hand. “Five minutes.” 

  “I’m sorry, I can’t,” Killian mumbles and turns around, walking away. This time, David doesn’t holler after him or follow him.

  When Killian brings the drinks to Mary Margaret and Leo, she thanks him and lifts her sunglasses, perching them atop her head and squinting up at Killian. “What were you and David shouting about?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing important.”

  Mary Margaret frowns, not believing him. “You should hear him out, Killian. He really misses working with you.”

  Killian sighs and sips his beer as he watches Liam filling his bucket with sand and Leo walking along the shore, collecting seashells. “Will I really want my hands on the case?”

  A solemn expression creases Mary Margaret’s features. “Would David drive three hours to ask you if he thought otherwise?”

  “He would if it meant spending time with an old friend… or at least I would hope,” Killian grumbles.

  “Of course he would, but if he didn’t think you’d be interested, he wouldn’t have brought it up.” 

  Killian takes another swig of his beer, pondering David’s offer.

  Mary Margaret puts her tea in the beach cup holder she’d brought with her and gets up to walk toward her sons, giving Leo his drink and sitting across from Liam to help him make a sandcastle. 

  Killian misses spending time with them, but he doesn’t know if he’s ready to head back to Storybrooke. He’d moved here to this fishing town, Port Lavaca, almost two years ago and bought this cabin on Lighthouse Beach. After Cassidy got away with murdering Liam, Killian blamed himself—everyone blamed him—and he couldn’t stand to be in Storybrooke any longer. He couldn’t live in a town that reminded him of his brother, a town that couldn’t bring his brother’s murderer to justice and pointed their fingers at Killian for the reason Cassidy got away with his crime. David knows he has no interest in going back. Not to Storybrooke, not to the SBPD, and yet he made the trip with his family three hours away from home. Nolan wouldn’t have bothered bringing the case with him if he knew Killian wouldn’t take the bait.

  When Killian heads inside and steps through the backdoor, David’s back is leaning against the counter, his arms crossed as he waits for a different answer. Or rather the answer he wants to hear.

  Killian knows he’ll regret this, but he can’t deny his curiosity is piqued. The detective in him is itching to know more about the case, or so he tells himself. He assents with an exasperated sigh. “Five minutes. That’s all you get.”

  David grins. “That’s all I need.” He brings his laptop to the table, and once Killian takes a seat next to him, David plays a video that’s ready to go on his laptop. “This was recorded yesterday.”

  The video feed takes place in the interrogation room. David and Detective Jefferson are sitting at one side of the table and there’s a man in a suit sitting on the other side who David says is an attorney. But what really piques his interest—or rather who—is the blonde woman sitting next to the attorney. She’s beautiful, with long blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail and striking green eyes. She’s wearing a black blouse under a fire engine red, two-piece suit and red pumps on her feet. Bold color choice. She’s definitely not a woman who lacks confidence. 

  “Who is she?”

  “This is Dr. Emma Swan. She’s a surgeon at Storybrooke General.”

  “That name sounds familiar,” Killian comments, more to himself than to David.

  “She’s Anna and Elsa’s cousin. But this conversation and what I’m showing you has to stay between us. I’m only here to visit with an old friend, got it? I haven’t even told Mary Margaret that Anna and Elsa’s cousin is involved in the case.”

  Killian nods. “I understand, but what’s her crime? Dressing too nicely. Being too pretty?” he quips with a smirk.

  David rolls his eyes. “This is serious, Jones.” He reverts his gaze to the computer screen. “Her colleague, Dr. Graham Humbert, was murdered seven days ago in the Storybrooke General parking lot. They were rival surgeons who bickered and teased each other all the time. Both were vying for the Chief of Surgery position he was appointed to just a week before he was murdered.”

  “And you think she offed him for his job title?” Killian asks, unable to take his eyes off her. She doesn’t look like your typical suspect by any means. She’s calm and still, her arms and legs crossed casually, her face expressionless. Typically, people who were being questioned for a felony offense trembled, couldn’t sit still and would sweat profusely. But not this woman. He can't detect any sign of fear or worry in her eyes, her posture or her behavior. 

  “I think there’s more to it than that, but yes, I think she had something to do with his death. The night he was murdered, Dr. Swan was with Graham at the Rabbit Hole. According to other colleagues who were also there celebrating Graham’s promotion, the two surgeons were having an intimate discussion.”

  Killian lifts a brow. “You think they were lovers?”

  “According to Emma and everyone else, they weren’t. They often squabbled, but it was mostly friendly. They respected each other.” 

  “Ah, I see.”

  “Dr. Swan said he walked her to her car that night, and before she left, she saw him head back inside. According to the bar owner and his employees who were on duty that night, Dr. Humbert left the bar an hour later, around eleven o’clock and went home. His phone records show he received a call at 2:20 in the morning, but it was from a restricted number.”

  “And let me guess, the number was untraceable?”

  “Yep. But whoever called him knew the safety code.”

  “Safety code?”

  “Anyone who calls in hospital staff is required to supply the safety code. You know, like when parents give their kids a safety word for emergencies so they don’t get abducted by strangers.”

  “So, whoever called Humbert was someone who works at the hospital?”

  “Possibly, and either that person had something to do with his murder or it’s a sheer coincidence the phone call preceded his death by only twenty minutes. But no one I spoke with at the hospital knew about the phone call or why he would've been called in. He wasn't on call that night.”

  “Was Dr. Humbert married?”

  “Nope, never was. A few people I interviewed mentioned he once had a fling with Dr. Regina Mills, head of Cardiology, but it ended four years ago. She’s now happily married.”

  “Maybe they still had something together, but kept it secret so her husband didn’t find out? And if so, maybe her husband found out and is the one who murdered him?”

  “The husband, Mr. Locksley owns the Rabbit Hole, and he was closing the bar at the time Dr. Humbert was murdered. One of his employees was there to corroborate that.” 

  “Dr. Mills didn’t take his last name when they got married?”

  “No, I asked her about it during the interview, and she said she wanted to keep her maiden name to avoid confusing her regular patients.”

  “And where was she that night?”

  “She was tending to a patient with cardiac arrest.” 

  “What was the cause of Dr. Humbert's death?”

  David clears his throat and retrieves a folder from his bag, pulls out some photos and spreads them over the table. 

  Killian swallows the sizable lump in his throat. The photos are of the murder victim with a knife lodged in beneath his left arm. 

  “Massive hemorrhaging from the stab wound.”

  Killian picks up one of the photos, studying it. “And the knife’s untraceable as well?” he asks bitterly, though he doesn’t need to. He already knows the answer.

  “Of course. The knife is an average filleting knife that could’ve come from any kitchen. The blade went through clean as a whistle and popped Dr. Humbert's heart like a balloon. And no fingerprints. Whoever did this knew what he was doing. Or she.”

  “Like another doctor?”

  David shrugs. “Possibly.”

  “And you’re certain the cardiologist was with a patient? She would know exactly where to stab a person to make it fatal.”

  “I checked the hospital security footage for verification. She went into her patient’s room at the time of the murder. Her alibi checks out.”

  “Were there any witnesses?”

  “A security guard saw Humbert pull into the parking lot but never saw him go inside. When he left his post to check on Dr. Humbert, he found Graham’s body near his car. The murderer was like a ghost. Never seen, never heard. He left without a fucking trace.”

  The hairs on the back of Killian’s neck stand on end. “Cassidy...” He cringes from merely speaking his name.

  David nods. “Question is, who hired him?”

  “This Dr. Swan… is she married?” Killian doesn’t think Emma had anything to do with the murder, but perhaps a jealous lover who saw her with Graham that night hired Cassidy. He’s drawing straws though.

  “No husband or boyfriend to speak of. She lives alone. No kids, not even birth parents. She was shuffled around from one foster home to another until she was adopted at the age of ten—by Anna and Elsa’s aunt. I’m sure you've heard the story?”

  “Aye, after their parents died in a car accident, Anna and Elsa went to stay with their Aunt Ingrid and her adopted daughter.” Killian points at the computer screen. “That’s her?”

  David nods. “Yep. The aloof cousin.” 

  “Huh.” Why has he never met this aloof cousin? Of course, if he’d known she was so gorgeous, he’d have made that happen a long time ago, but he'd never seen a picture of her, at least not one of her as an adult. If he had, he would have recognized her on the video. Killian shakes off the thoughts and studies the photos again. “I don’t get how a good-looking, successful doctor like this man stayed single?” Or a beautiful, successful doctor like Emma for that matter.

  David shrugs. “He probably was by choice. Maybe he was too focused on his career and thought a romantic relationship would only distract him. Or maybe he was in love with Regina and knew he couldn’t have her, so he didn’t want anyone else.”

  “Or maybe he was in love with someone else?” Killian poses. If he were Graham and had a female friend like Emma, he doubts he’d have only platonic feelings for her. “You said he walked Emma to her car that night?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Was there a kiss goodnight?”

  “When I questioned Dr. Swan, she said they hugged, and he kissed her on the cheek. I asked her if that was normal and she said no. It surprised her. But I checked the video footage in front of the bar. Mr. Locksley set up a camera there after someone tried to throw a rock through the door window a couple of years ago.”

  “To steal alcohol?”

  “Or cash from the till,” David shrugs. “Whatever their reason was, they weren’t successful. Probably got spooked by someone who saw them. Anyway, the hug between the two surgeons lasted too long to be friendly.”

  “How long?”

  “Ten seconds.”

  “How long is a normal hug?”

  “A few seconds, maybe more, depending on the relationship of the person you’re hugging. But ten seconds is too long if you’re only friends. Or frenemies in this case. So maybe, Graham had feelings for her but she didn’t return them? Maybe Graham made her feel uncomfortable or said something to her when he hugged her, and that, topped with him getting the promotion she desired was enough to want him dead.”

  Killian mulls it over for a moment, then shakes his head. “No, it’s too obvious. She’s smarter than that. She’s a doctor and has way more education than both of us combined. If she really wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have hired someone to murder him a week after his promotion. I don’t think she hired Cassidy.”

  David cocks a brow, a sly smirk curving his lips. “So does that mean you’re in?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Killian grumbles.

  “But it’s been over five minutes. Which means I’ve intrigued you. Otherwise, we’d be outside with my wife and kids right now.”

  Bloody hell. 

  David’s right. Killian is intrigued, and not solely by the case, but by the blonde woman on David’s computer screen. He wants to know more about her; he wants to find out more information. He has a gut feeling about her; he knows she didn’t murder Dr. Humbert. He doesn’t believe the whole rival surgeons scenario is a motive for murder. He and David also bicker and tease each other, but he would never murder David over a job promotion. “Okay, fine. I’m intrigued. But as I said, I don’t think she had anything to do with Dr. Humbert’s murder.” 

  David makes a noise of hesitance and appears to be unsure about Killian’s assessment. “There’s something else you should know that might change your mind.”

  Killian cocks a brow. “What’s that?”

  “Did you hear about Cassidy’s most recent trial?”

  Killian shakes his head. “I stopped watching the news or following any media regarding that arsehole,” Killian mutters. “Not knowing there’s yet another victim left in his path of destruction is the only way I can sleep at night.”

  “He was acquitted from another capital punishment.” 

  Killian scoffs. “So he got away with another murder? What else is new?”

  David sighs and fast-forwards through the video. “Just listen.” He hits play.

  “Dr. Swan, did you recently serve on a jury that recently acquitted an accused contract killer, Neal Gold?”

  Killian’s eyebrow jumps, and he reclines in his chair, crossing his arms.

  “What’s the relevance of the question, Detective?” Mr. Hopper asks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

  David raises his hand in defense. “I’ll get to that, I promise.”

  “Please do very quickly,” Emma says curtly. “Some of us don’t have time for unnecessary interviews. I have patients waiting for me.”

  David sighs. “The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner you can leave.”

  She expels a tentative breath. “Yes, I served on the jury that acquitted Mr. Gold.”

  “And were you or were you not the forewoman?”

  Killian swallows the lump in his throat. 

  “I was. But you already knew that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have asked.”

  “Feisty lass,” Killian remarks with a subtle smirk.

  David nods. “That’s for sure. Feisty but polite.” 

  They revert their attention to the video.

  “That’s correct. I’ve already interviewed the other eleven jurors.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I believe Dr. Humbert’s killer was hired. He wasn’t robbed, and he has no known adversaries… other than you, Dr. Swan.”

  Emma narrows her eyes at the insinuation. “Dr. Humbert and I were not adversaries. We were friendly colleagues.”

  “Yes, you were a colleague of his who wanted the promotion he got, and recently let a contract killer back on the streets.”

  Her eyes widen as she lunges forward in her seat. “I didn’t free him. The judge made the final decision. My job was to determine the facts and reach a verdict based on all the facts and evidence. In that case, the evidence was lacking.” 

  Her attorney puts out his hand to stop her from continuing to speak any further. “Detective, Mr. Gold’s crime was alleged and has no relevance to this case.”

  David pauses the video. “Some of the jurors said Cassidy and the doctor kept making eyes at each other.

  Killian quirks a brow. He doesn't doubt any straight, red-blooded male would be attracted to Emma, but he highly doubts a woman of her class, beauty and intelligence would be interested in a scumbag like Cassidy. “Did you question her about it?”

  “Yes, she claimed he kept staring at her, but that his attentions were very much unwanted. That’s as far as I got before Mr. Hopper stood and asked if there were any more unnecessary questions I wanted to ask her.”

  “So, you think the doctor hired Cassidy to eliminate her competition?”

  “The crime scene had his name written all over it.”

  “I’m not arguing that. But I don’t think someone like her,” Killian says, pointing at the paused screen, “would get involved with someone like that piece of scum.” The thought makes him utterly sick to his stomach.

  “He may be scum, but he’s clever scum. That’s why your brother coined his moniker, remember?”

  “Aye.” He remembers very well when Liam began calling him Cassidy. 

  One time Killian asked his brother why he called him that, and he said Neal’s father, a convicted felon Liam successfully put behind bars, was referred to only as his surname, Gold. To avoid any confusion, he didn’t call Neal by his surname too, nor did he wish to call Neal by his first name—Liam never called perps by their first name—so initially, Neal was the clever killer because he seemed to be an exception to Locard's Exchange Principle, which asserts, “the perpetrator of a crime will bring something to the crime scene and leave with something from it,” and that “both can be used as forensic evidence.” Dr. Edmond Locard was the Sherlock Holmes of France who came up with the basic principle of forensic science, “every contact leaves a trace.”  

  While Cassidy always leaves a weapon at the scene, he never purchases the weapons, or at least there is never a trace of the purchase. He also never leaves fingerprints. There was only one single time when Cassidy was sloppy and accidentally left something of his behind and that was when he murdered Liam. But he never took anything from his victims.  

  The name Cassidy was brought up when Elsa became pregnant with Camila and they were deciding on names. Elsa had mentioned Cassidy as a possible name for their daughter, and when Liam looked up the name to see what it meant, he discovered the origins of the name and that it meant clever. So it became Neal’s nickname.

  When Liam’s daughter was born, he suggested they call her Camila, which means perfect , and Elsa was immediately on board with it. Killian’s glad Liam and Elsa didn’t end up naming their child Cassidy. How ironic would it have been if Liam gave his daughter the same name he gave the man who eventually killed him? 

  Liam never mentioned Neal Gold to Elsa, he didn’t like bringing work home with him and he especially didn’t like to cause his wife any distress by talking about a notorious serial killer on the loose. He didn’t want Elsa to worry about her husband, and while she knew the risks that came with Liam’s job as a homicide detective, he made her believe he mostly reviewed old, unsolved cases. 

  After Liam died, Killian promised Elsa he’d find her husband’s killer. While no one was certain of who murdered Liam because there was no evidence, except for a single thread of fabric left behind at the crime scene, Killian and David knew. But Killian botched any chance they had of convicting Cassidy and failed Elsa and Camila in the process. Not only did he fail, but he’s the reason why Cassidy couldn’t be convicted. He acted on high emotions after Liam’s death. He was so angry and vengeful, he was willing to do whatever it took to put Cassidy behind bars. And that’s exactly why he failed. He didn’t think. He made a split decision, and several people have subsequently paid the price for that decision. Now a highly respected surgeon has been added to that list, along with who knows how many others.

  “So, how will you proceed?” Killian asks skittishly, afraid of what David’s answer might be.

  “Not me. Us,” David says. “I need your help.”

  “Why me? Why not Scarlet or Jefferson?”

  “Because I need someone with your instincts, someone good, and you're better than them or anyone else in our department. Besides, no one knows Cassidy like you do.”

  Killian shakes his head. “I can’t. Any case involving Cassidy is personal for me. After he killed—” His voice cracks. He can’t even force the rest of the words out. “I can't.”

  “Come on, Killian. I’m not asking you to come back permanently; just this one case, that's it,” David pleads. “If you won’t do this for me, do it for your brother.”

  Damn it, Nolan. Why did he have to go and use that card? 

  Killian sighs and stands up, pacing the kitchen. When he reaches David again, he stops and places his hands on his hips. “Let’s say I said yes, what would you want me to do?”

  “Search for any clues that will tell us if Emma and Cassidy are in alliance.”

  Killian furrows his brows. “Since you need probable cause, I'm guessing you don't have a warrant for Dr. Swan, so how do you suppose I do that?”

  David shakes his head. “Ah-ah, I’m not telling you until you say you’re in.”

  Killian sighs dramatically as he drags his hand over his face. He has a feeling he’s not going to like whatever plan David has up his sleeve. But he misses working with him again, and he has to admit, he still doesn’t believe Emma had anything to do with her colleague’s murder. So perhaps he can go along with David’s plan to prove that. He looks at David again and with a curt nod, he makes it official. “I’m in.”

  To that, David says nothing, just grins complacently.

  Killian gulps. What the bloody hell did he just sign up for?

Tagging some people who have shown interest so far. If you would like to be tagged or untagged, please let me know.

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[jackuswritus]

Hidden Places

Everybody had a hidden place when they were younger, right?

Those overgrown clearings that laid off the beaten path of other parks, past all those manmade mulch pits and nauseatingly bright plastic playgrounds that always overheated in the summer sun. They were hard to find, and always required a bit of finesse to travel through, but the sense of ownership and independence that they came with was always worth it. It was like unearthing something sacred, something that nobody had ever laid witness to.

Ours was a little less picturesque, of course. The various blunt wrappers and capri sun pouches that were strewn about quickly dashed our fantasies of being grand explorers mapping out uncharted territory. On top of that, the actual scenery wasn’t particularly beautiful on its own. The only thing resembling a source of life was the thin trickle of brown, diseased-looking water that cut through one of the ditches we jumped across. You got the sense that it was an area left unexplored for good reason. None of us were particularly picky about that, though. As teenagers, we were just glad to have some semblance of independence.

As well as a discreet place to get high.

Looking back now, the fact that we managed to keep it so well-hidden was pretty impressive, especially considering that our activities down there were anything but. We mostly just sat around, picking at various bits of dead and decaying nature, laughing at whatever dumb shit had happened earlier that day. It was typical teenage boy behavior, just moved to a more rural location. The only thing that really changed was that we didn’t have to worry about keeping our voices down quite as much. After all, we all felt pretty secure in assuming that we were the only ones out there. Still, there was one reoccurring trend that I couldn’t help but notice:

No matter what, everyone always seemed to leave before the sun went down.

It wasn’t one of those cliché unspoken rules, mind you. Most of the kids that frequented the spot usually just had other stuff to do, whether it was studying for a test the next day, worrying about upsetting their parents, or just plain wanting to go home. Everyone always seemed to find a reason to leave before the golden hour was up. I’m sure that a handful of us were genuinely afraid of staying there after nightfall, but nobody would ever admit to something as shameful as that. Not to a group of vicious adolescents, anyway.

There was only one kid who pointed it out. That was Mark.

He was a weird one. The sort of guy that exists on the fringes of your friend group, not really tethered to any particular person, coming and going as he pleases. The only other place we saw him outside of the meeting place was school, and that was it. He definitely made his presence known, though. His fixation on the dark and morbid gave him something of a reputation with his classmates, teachers, and (especially) guidance counsellors. He would always draw a crowd in the school computer lab, playing videos with titles like “REAL GHOST FOOTAGE CAUGHT ON TAPE” and “CRYPTID SIGHTING NEVER BEFORE SEEN” with a barely restrained sense of glee. He seemed to revel in the discomfort of others, the same way that teenagers often enjoy getting an immature rise out of people. It followed, then, that he would be the first to suggest exploring the meeting place at night.  

Everyone he tried to rope into his expedition responded with either indifference or outright disapproval. It seemed that everyone had some kind of excuse to avoid going back after night had fallen. Some were able to mask their fear with a façade of aloofness and casually dismiss the whole thing as a waste of time, while others couldn’t help but let it slip. He didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he felt a sense of distinction, a sense of pride, at being the only one brave enough to do what the others couldn’t. It was all he could talk about, spouting off disjointed conspiracies to anyone that would listen, or anyone unfortunate enough to walk too close. I still remember him pulling me aside the day before he was supposed to venture out. By that time, the whole school was aware of the reputation that he had. It followed him around, dispersing whole crowds of people and reducing boisterous conversations to barely audible whispers. His eyes were sunken and hollow, but you could still see something behind them. It was like he was being possessed, compelled by something greater and more awful than even he could comprehend.

“Somethings out there, man.” He whispered, as if guarding a terrible secret, “And I think I’m supposed to find it.”

That was the last thing he ever said to me.

I think that, deep down, everyone knew what had happened when he didn’t show up to school the next day. It was just a matter of who wanted to believe it. Some struggled to keep up a sort of misplaced optimism, while others simply refused to accept that something terrible had actually happened. Nobody wanted to shoulder the burden of witnessing a tragedy unfold, knowing that they might have been able to do something to stop it. A quiet sort of tension gripped everyone, and the pressure only mounted with every passing day. Rumors were spread, fights broke out, kids had to be dragged, weeping and hysterical, out of class.

It wasn’t until the last search party was called off that things started to die down.

The police chalked it up to an avoidable tragedy, using it as leverage to keep impressionable teens from causing trouble at night (as well as impose a strict curfew). Nobody wanted to argue, regardless of whether they agreed with the decision. Of course, it wasn’t like there was an eager queue of explorers ready to follow in Mark’s footsteps. For most people, the collective trauma surrounding his disappearance was enough of a reason to never look back, to move quickly and stay under the shelter of the sun when traveling. I wish I could say the same. I wish I could say that everything that happened was enough for me, that I could put Mark’s memory to rest and come to terms with the fact that he was gone. But I had my own separate burden to carry, my own terrible, secret reason that I could never hope to forget.

It was that he was right. There was something in those woods.

A week after Mark went missing, I found myself back at the meeting place. Even with the vice grip of fear beginning to tighten around the town, I still couldn’t pry myself away from the memories that resonated there. Even back then, I knew that nothing would be the same, that the sense of community that this place once provided was about to be torn away. In a way, I guess I was there to say my last goodbyes to all those memories; To lay them to rest before they became too painful to hold on to. The tears flowed freely. Loudly.

The sunset seemed to sneak up on me, despite being so gradual. As those rusty colors began to drench the world around me, I was confronted with the bittersweet reality that they had lost their meaning. What once struck fear into our hearts and left us scrambling for the safety of home had only a sliver of its former power. As depressing as it was, it was a fitting close to that chapter of my youth. I was almost ready to leave those ghosts behind, to dump them with the rest of the waste and refuse that had been scattered through our makeshift meeting place.

It only took several minutes for night to fall. While I had the advantage of being familiar with the various ins and outs of the clearing, that thick, murky blackness was all it took to leave me fumbling my way through. I could still make things out, vaguely, but the unfamiliar shroud of the night rendered them completely alien to me. The first pangs of anxiety were beginning to set in, as well as a distinct sense of annoyance. All these years of coming back here, and they still somehow weren’t useful here? Against my better judgement, I found myself nervously laughing at the idea that the real reason why nobody stayed out past dark was because of how damn hard it was to navigate. I stayed there for a while, chuckling as I tried to quiet my nerves.

Something shifted in the bushes beside me.

I wish I could say that I hadn’t seen it, that it had been a product of my own cowardice and paranoia. After all, in the unfamiliar murkiness of the night, anything could have been out there. It could have just as well been a stray animal or broken branch that sent me running. Still, no matter how much I wish that were the case, I wasn’t afforded the luxury of unknowing, of blaming my imagination for what had happened.

I don’t think my mind was capable of imagining what I saw.

It walked like an animal, made to stand on its hind legs for someone else’s cruel amusement. Every step seemed to cause it pain, forcing its body to contort and twist in different directions, directions that living things weren’t supposed to bend. It was emaciated, gaunt, pale, as if there was just enough life in its body to keep it staggering forward. Bones jutted out, barely covered by its own horrible, pale skin. I didn’t dare look at its face, but the faintest trace of a gaping jaw could be seen dangling and flapping with every movement. I was paralyzed, every part of me freezing up in anticipation of the fate that awaited me.

It wasn’t until a noise escaped its mouth that I started to run. It was a wail of agony, a cry brought on by the inherent pain of its own existence. No matter how far I ran, it still seemed to echo through the trees. Every muscle in my body burned as I flailed my way through dead foliage. I didn’t dare to look behind me, both for the fear of being slowed down and for the fear of seeing it again.

Thankfully, I didn’t see it again. Not when I stumbled through a clearing and found myself back on the trail, or when I was questioned by the police for being out so late, or when I finally got back home and collapsed into my own bed. No matter how certain I was that it would come back, it never did. Some days, I think that the dread and paranoia that it left me with are worse than anything it could have actually done to me.

Enough time has passed now for me to know that those memories will never truly leave. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve heard, they’ll be with me until the end. There’s a sort of peace to that, I suppose. A kind of quiet acceptance in familiarizing yourself with the burdens that you have to carry. Things don’t get easier, but they certainly don’t get any more difficult. Maybe me writing all of this down is part of that acceptance, that familiarity. For all intents and purposes, it seems to be working.

I can almost get to sleep at night now.

Still, there will always be times where the dam breaks. The memories, fear, and trauma surge back in full force, uncontrollable in their potency. Some nights I wake up as terrified and drenched in sweat as I was back then. Some nights I find myself feverishly checking outside, certain that it will lurch back into view at any moment. Some nights that awful sound rings in my ears, drowning out any futile attempt to ignore its presence.

Some nights I swear it sounds just like Mark.

But I know that can’t be.

-end.

[an-unknown-writers-world]

First Pitch

Summary: Bucky’s been keeping the reader at a distance, but he needs an escort to the Yankees game which leads to some unexpected confessions. 

A/N: First attempt back at writing; this is absolute trash. Sorry, not sorry. 

Word Count: 3,335

You sat at the kitchen island reading a book while you at your breakfast. It had been a peaceful morning, by the grace of god Sam and Bucky both slept in leaving you to enjoy the peace. You’d think after living together for over a year they would get along better, but the jabs never seem to end; although it is getting hard to tell if they’re because they actually care for each other and don’t want to admit it or if they truly do still hate each other. You had just taken your last bite when Bucky emerged into the kitchen. 

“Morning,” He said in a still sleepy rough voice.

“Morning, Buck.” 

You went back to your book thinking that was the end of the conversation. It’d been a year since Pepper moved you into the compound. You were a Red Room survivor and long-time friend of Natasha, so when you showed up at the remnants of the compound looking for her Pepper offered her place in what remained of the Avengers Initiative to you. It was no secret that you’d never be able to fill those shoes, they were impossible to fill, but you looked forward to being a part of something bigger. Sam had welcomed you with open arms, Bucky, on the other hand, kept you at arm’s length. 

“Any plans for the day?” Bucky asked coming to stand across the counter from you. 

His coffee cup steamed on the counter in front of him, you looked it at rather than him, confused by his sudden concern in your plans. If there was no mission in the works or casual polite conversation involved, Bucky rarely spoke to you. He was never rude, but he certainly didn’t extend an olive branch or show any interest in being friends of any kind. In fact, every time you would take a step towards friendship, he would push you away. 

“Nothing really. I might go for a run later, but I haven’t decided.” You paused for a moment. “Why, did something happen? Fury calling us in?”

He shook his head, “No,” He hesitated, “just curious.”

You stood from the stool to clear your dishes confused by the exchange. Tension between the two of you wasn’t uncommon, but this felt far different. 

“(Y/N), have you ever been to a baseball game?”

Well, this just got weirder. You thought to yourself.

You closed the dishwasher door, “No, Buck. I’ve never really cared for any sport but football.”

He nodded smiling to himself, “I remember Nat talking about going to a game with you. She had a lot of fun that day. She did warn that anyone who goes to something like that would you should be prepared for the drunk you.” He chuckled softly, “She said it’s pretty entertaining.”

Your heart warmed at the topic of your old friend. “I miss her.” You confessed. 

He placed his flesh hand on your shoulder softly, “Me too.” 

Internally your mind was throwing all kinds of flags – red danger, orange caution signs. But you smiled at the gesture.

He turned his attention back to his coffee cup; you took the opportunity to put some distance between you; taking your own cup to the coffee maker to get a fresh cup. 

“Steve and I used to go to baseball games when we were kids.” He reminisced. “The Dodgers were in Brooklyn back then.” 

You laughed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I just don’t remember a time that they weren’t in Los Angeles.” 

He smiled. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.” 

“Age isn’t relative.” You replied automatically. 

“This is harder than it was back in the day.” He mumbled so low you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear. 

You came to stand across from him, coffee cups and island in between. “Bucky?” You said trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, you could see the torture in his eyes. 

“Hey, whatever it is. Just spit it out.” 

Bucky took a deep breath, “Would you be willing to come to the Yankees game with me this afternoon? I have to throw out the first pitch for Stark Industries.”

“Oh,” You were shocked at the question.

You searched his expression, he seemed sincere in his request and you could see the anxiety eating away at him as you contemplated his request. Part of you wanted to decline the request because it seemed so far out of the left-field, but the bigger part of you wanted to say yes. You wanted to be friends with your housemates, and this was a good first step.  Besides you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t admit there was a part of you that had wanted more with Bucky.

“It’s okay if you can’t or don’t want to.”

“No, no.” You suddenly felt bad it took so long for you to answer. “I’d be happy to go with you. Two conditions, though.” You smiled.

“Name ‘em.” He replied with a confused smile.

“You have to answer all my ridiculous questions and beer is a requirement.”

He laughed; it was a musical sound that you didn’t often hear. “I think I can handle both.”

“When is the game?” You asked. 

“We need to leave in two hours.” He replied.

You scrunched your face in frustration as you rounded the counter to put your cup in the dishwasher. “You’re giving me a two-hour notice to figure out the game of baseball and figure out appropriate attire for a game.” 

Bucky smiled, “You don’t have to learn anything about the game, I’ll teach you.” He drank from his coffee cup, “And its September in New York, whatever you might wear to a picnic or to the park or something, that would be fine for a baseball game.”

You nodded, “I guess I’m going to go get dressed.”

As you turned to walk away Bucky’s hand casually caught your own, you turned back to look at him.

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You squeezed his hand lightly. “You certainly don’t have to thank me.” You smiled back, “I should be the one thanking you for taking me to someplace new.” 

** Two Hours Later **

 The clock read 1:56 PM and you were startled by a soft knock on your bedroom door.

“(Y/N), the cars here,” Bucky said from the opposite side of the door. 

“Coming.” You said getting up from your vanity.

You heard the footsteps down the hall signaling that Bucky wasn’t waiting outside your door any longer.  Taking a deep breath, you tried to remind yourself this was just another day. You looked in the mirror one last time – sporting a red tank top, denim capris and black Nike’s; it didn’t feel right, but it would have to do. Opening the door, you made your way down the hall and the flight of stairs leading to the big open foyer. Bucky stood with his back to the stairs looking at his phone, the sound of your footsteps drawing his attention to turn around. 

“Wow,” He said smiling. “You look amazing.” 

A blush crept up your cheeks, “Thanks, Buck.”

He held out his arm, “We should go, Pepper sent over a car. Apparently, she doesn’t trust me to get to the game myself.”

You laughed grabbing a hold of his arm. “I probably wouldn’t trust you either.” 

“I should probably be offended by that statement,” Bucky said as he led you out of the door.

“You probably would be, if you didn’t know there was some truth to it.”

He laughed as the driver opened the backdoor.

“Thank you,” You said as he waited for you to get in before closing it himself. 

The drive went by quickly despite being through heavy traffic, electricity seemed to fill the silent car as you both looked out your separate windows as the car. When you arrived at the stadium you were taken by a security team to a private box that overlooked the stadium while Bucky was led to the locker room where he would meet the team and prepare for the first pitch.

“Sergeant Barnes will be up after the ceremonial pitch, through those doors,” the man pointed, “is a full bar and eatery. If you need anything, Mrs. Barnes security will be right outside the door. Enjoy the game.”

The man didn’t wait for any response, he just left the box. You were shocked by the man’s assumption that you were married. You wondered if Pepper knew you would be in attendance, or was Bucky planning to bring someone else? Before you let your mind wander any further you walked through the door the attendant had pointed out and got two beers – one for you and one for Bucky.

You sat in the middle seat of the row and watched as the players of each team warmed up and Bucky appeared to chat up some executive looking people. You were impressed at how casual he made everything look, you knew the anxiety he was feeling about the situation only because you had known him so long. You imagined if Steve and Natasha were still here how different this situation would be, you may not even be here; but if you were you could imagine Steve cheering him on and Natasha telling him not to cheat with his metal arm. Cheers broke your thoughtful trance as the announcer introduced the ‘Avenger Sgt Bucky Barnes on behalf of Stark Industries’. You smiled and cheer from your seat as he threw out the first pitch. 

It was only a matter of minutes before the box door opened and Bucky appeared. 

“Looked good out there Barnes.” You said turning to look at him.

“Thanks, it’s been a long time since I’ve thrown a baseball.” He said coming to sit next to you.

“What a hundred years or so?” You smirked.

“Oh, you’ve got jokes now do you?” He laughed.

“I don’t know if they actually have any effect on you, but I got you a beer.” You gestured to the cup holder in front of him.

“Thank you,” He said reaching for the bottle.

You watched rotations of batters come up slowly piecing together the bits of the game, you’d probably be more focused on the game if Bucky’s arm wasn’t slung across the back of your seat. It was a simple gesture that shouldn’t be so distracting, but this was the closest proximity you’d ever been with each other.  Emptying your own beer bottle, you slipped it back in the cupholder.

“Would you like another?” Bucky asked as he emptied his own. “I believe that was part of the agreement.”

You smiled at him, “Yes please.”

He stood to grab both bottles, “I’ll be right back.”

The short time he was gone you found yourself paying closer attention to the game, it was seemingly straight forward – ball hit, run to base and try not to get out. It was clearly more complicated, but that was definitely the basic understanding. 

Bucky came to sit next to you again, holding out the beer to you with a smile grinning from ear to ear. 

“Thank you” You took it, “what’s got you so smiley?” You asked.

“Did you know they think we’re married?” He laughed.

“I assumed they probably did. The man who brought me up here referred to me as Mrs. Barnes.” 

“It does have a nice ring to it,” Bucky mumbled,

He had a good habit of mumbling; you often chose not to respond because you rarely thought you were actually supposed to hear them. A blush crept up your cheeks at his statement, nonetheless. A few more silent moments passed between you.

“I feel like I’m not keeping up my end of the bargain.” He said breaking the silence. 

“What do you mean?”

“I was under the impression that I would be answering ridiculous questions.” 

You laughed, “It seems straight forward enough, I haven’t thought of any.” 

“They don’t have to be just about the game.” He replied.

The answer surprised you. Bucky had never been very open with you and this seemed like an open invitation to be just that.

“Well, this could get interesting.” You smiled before taking a sip of your beer.

He flashed you a sincere Bucky smile, the kind that could melt even the thickest ice blocks.

“You never did answer the question about this?” You gestured towards the beer in his hand.

“It does affect me; it takes a lot more than the average person.”

You nodded, “Do you really hate Sam?”

He laughed, “I can’t answer that, you’ll tell him.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I would never.” 

He stuck out his flesh pinky towards you, “promise?”

You pink promised him.

“No I don’t; not since after the blip.”

“But you’re still mean to him?”

“That term is a little harsh.”

You laughed, “You moved all of his bedroom furniture out to the courtyard knowing he’d come home in the middle of the night from a mission.”

Bucky laughed. “Point taken.”

You paused thinking for a moment, “What is your favorite color?” 

He looked at you puzzled by the simple question, “Red.” He replied.

“Favorite musician from your era?”

“It would depend on what the occasion was; probably Louis Armstrong or Bing Crosby.”

“Two names I can actually recognize.” You laughed.

“I’ve seen the stacks of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald vinyl albums in your room.”

“You’ve been in there?” You questioned. 

“A few times.” He hesitated as he watched your expression, “Sometimes if you’re on a long mission or missed a check-in I will sit in there while I wait to hear.” He looked away and picked at the label on the bottle. “It makes me feel a little closer to you, the room smells like you too.”

You smiled at the sentiment of his statement. 

The two of you bantered back and forth, him answering any question you could think of; you attempted to keep them as lighthearted as possible. The game seemed to pass by quickly, the crowd being your indicator if something was good or bad. None of it seemed to matter much to the two of you. Bucky got up to get you both another round of drinks and came back with a pair of filled shot glasses. 

“To better friendships.” He said handing you one of the glasses. 

You smiled at him, “So you thought we were friends before this?” 

He looked at you confused, 

“I’m kidding Bucky.” You said setting your hand on his thigh. “Spre prietenie.”

Both of you downed your shots.

“I didn’t know you could speak Romanian.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 

A light breeze kicked in causing you to shiver. You didn’t feel cold, but you were sure the alcohol had lowered your blood pressure causing your body temperature to decrease as well. 

“It’s cold, you should take my jacket,” Bucky said shimming out of the long sleeve black flannel he had on.

It left him in a short sleeve white t-shirt that sculpted to his body perfectly. He pulled the flannel over your shoulders wrapping you in the warmth and the sweet smell of him. 

“Thanks, Buck, guess I hadn’t realized it would get so chilly.”

He smiled back at you. 

“Alright folks, it’s time for the 7th inning stretch! Everybody on your feet!” The announcer called out. 

“Wait, it’s a real thing?” You asked with a laugh. 

“Come on doll,” Bucky said standing up. 

You had never seen him like this- childlike, innocent happiness. 

“Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd;” He sung out, swaying with the crowd. “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don't care if I never get back.” He smiled at you as you watched in awe, “ Let me root, root, root for the home team, If they don't win, it's a shame. For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out, At the old ball game” Bucky counted three strikeouts on his fingers in your direction. 

The crowd cheered as the song ended with everyone taking their seats. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much at this new version of Bucky you witnessed. 

“What?” He said sitting down, his arm stretching behind your seat again. 

“Nothing,” 

“(Y/N), spit it out.” 

"This is a good look for you, Buck."

He looked at you confused.

"Happy." You stated, "I'm not even joking when I say that your smile could melt the polar ice caps."

The sun cast a shadow across his face, but you were pretty sure that you were witnessing him blush for the first time. You were beginning to think the alcohol was a bad idea, the line between the Bucky you knew, and the alcohol influenced Bucky was blurry and only got worse with each passing second. Picking up the bottle from the cup holder you finished what was left of it.

“I’m going to run to the little girl’s room.” You said standing up.

Bucky smiled up at you, “Do you want me to grab you another drink while you’re gone”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you though.”

You took the space as an opportunity to breathe and try and get your head back on straight. Something changed, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was no way that Bucky had ingested enough alcohol to make this kind of change. 

Smiling at him you sat back down. His arm quickly found its way around the back of your seat and you took it as an opportunity to make a move of your own, settling into your seat you rested your head on his shoulder. It was a simple gesture and he didn’t seem to pull away from it. Instead, his arm came to rest on your own pulling you closer to his side. Between the alcohol, the fall heat and the glorious smell that could only be described as Bucky you found yourself in a trance-like state.

The crowd cheered in the background as a fan caught a fly ball. 

“Hey, Buck,”

“Yeah doll?” 

“Thank you for today.” 

He squeezed you a little tighter, “I should be the one thanking you for coming with me.” You could feel the sigh he let out. “I also owe you an apology.”

With that, you pulled your head back to look at him.

“Please hear me out.”

“Okay.” 

“Ever since the day you moved in, I’ve kept you at a distance and I haven’t been fair to you. You can relate to so many things from my past and that terrified me; I would see you do amazing things and care so much about others around you. Every day I seem to fall more in love with you and I’m tired of fighting it.”

You smiled at his confession, pressure building in your chest. 

“I know that I haven’t given you any reason to feel the same, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to change that.”

Before he could say anymore you leaned forward to kiss him, your fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. When you broke the kiss, you leaned your forehead against his neck trying to catch your breath, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m guessing that means you’ll let me try to make it up to you.”

You both laughed softly.

Looking up at him you smiled, “You don’t have anything to make up.”

You laid your head on his shoulder again. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” You said softly.  “I don’t want to deal with Sam yet.”

Bucky laughed at your truthful statement. “I know a few ways to shut him up.”

It was your turn to laugh at him. 

He leaned in kissing you again, the game in front of you completely forgotten. You weren’t sure what any of this meant, but you were more than willing to find out.

**********

Thanks for reading!! If like what you read, you can find more here.

Tag List:  if you’d like to be added. Shoot me an ask. Also if you want to be removed (no hard feelings if that’s the case, I know my topic of people has changed): @starrynite7114 @genius2050 @badasseddy @knowles-morgan @itsnethbellins

[daisy--sorbet]

heyyy, hope you’re having a good night!! if you have the energy and feel okay answering, what’s up w taz graduation? i haven’t checked it out yet but i was thinking ab it. just asking bc you’re the first person i saw talk ab the show having serious issues, but also feel free to not answer this!! hope you have a good week!

i took a nice hot bath, had a strawberry kiwi capri-sun, and did a nice face mask and i’m feeling pretty good - so, y’know what anon? let’s talk about it. 

for anyone who likes taz grad who sees this post: it’ll be tagged with “taz grad hate” (although i feel hate is definitely a very strong word - it’s for the simplicity of tagging it) - so please block the tag if you don’t want to see this post (especially because i put a readmore on a post before and it didn’t show up on mobile and instead gave the full post). mobile tumblr has a tag blocking system, so please feel free to use it! i don’t mind haha

anyway, so this is... probably going to be a lost post, and i wanna go ahead and preface it: this absolutely isn’t any hate on the mcelroys themselves. i love the brothers and their dad a lot, and while i doubt any of them would ever see this (or have it sent to them, or shown to them, because im pretty sure they try to distance themselves from this sort of thing), i just want to make it clear that criticizing a product is different than bashing a person. which brings me to the point of if i do end up sounding as if im bashing someone - please call me out on it! it’s not my intention to target anyone.

with that said, let’s talk about this campaign.

so my problems are as thus: the railroading, the shipping (a fandom problem, but it’s present in the podcast), the NPCs, and some misc problems others have addressed better than i have.

which. i know. that’s basically the entire podcast. (i promise i’ll bring up some positive points to balance it all out). keep in mind i’ve only personally listened to... what, six episodes? and it was enough for me to drop it. some people dropped it first ep, some dropped it ep four, and others are still forcing themselves to listen.

the railroading

there was a time i could handle travis and his railroading [making sure the story goes exactly the way he has planned], because it was the very beginning of the podcast and that’s what you can kind of expect from a plot-heavy podcast. hell, i wouldn’t mind it if the interactions and goofs weren’t a huge part of why i listen to TAZ in particular (which, by the way, is why amnesty still stuck out to me - even if there was a direction griffin wanted to push them towards, the interactions between the players (or players and npcs) made up for any railroading). it’s kind of hard to not railroad a little when it’s story-heavy and you’re trying to built up a world that you’ve put a lot of thought into. however, a huge part of d&d is the spontaneity. 

it’s kind of why i think balance was so popular. while there was railroading towards the end, there was the presence of improv that made it all good. most mcelroy content is enjoyed because of the goofs. the magic brian moment is memorable. the jenkin’s fight still stands out because it was funny (albeit a result of some bad rolls). the boys teasing angus sticks out because the four would play well off of each other. even without that - griffin had talked about how he had to roll with things (the fact he had planned for a fight atop the train, but ditched the idea for what his family members came up with instead). even in amnesty, a couple moments that stick out to me still are ned with the jetpack taking out a pizza hut sign, and the scene with the water where jake was trapped inside. they aren’t as fun, but they still stand out as “things i didnt expect to really end the way they did.”

with grad, it’s just. one after another. the thundermen want to subpoena a xorn? cool, let’s run with that until actually the xorn gets fed rocks and goes home and who cares about the subpoena now. fitzroy wants to keep his cloak? lets talk about it for a while and you also get no rolls to even try to keep it. fitzroy goes to meet higglemas in his office? oh, why are you here fitzroy? im going to keep asking you until you answer fitzroy? you arent getting out of this scene until you answer me, fitzroy, so just tell me why you’re here already, alright, fitzroy? 

and even later in a episode i read a transcript of: hey argo, remember how you have this whole secret motivation? fuck you, im gonna talk about it here in your dream and reveal it to listeners and remove any tension you had building up, and you dont get a choice to talk about it because this all-knowing villain knows all about it :)

and even NOW in the latest episode, there’s a comment that “we should cap argo’s skills here” instead of just... making the checks higher. rogues are good at certain things and usually arent the best in battles. better hope argo never makes it to level 11, because who knows how people are gonna handle the fact that he gets a skill that’ll make it so certain skills can’t have a roll below 10 (reliable talent). 

(griffin, thankfully, calls travis out for that, but still - travis, why would you even imply that, considering you should be aware of how rogues work considering magnus multiclassed into rogue and you played one on tiny heist?)

and in the newest episode, their Big Bad chaos (which, god, i personally hate that name) straight-out says “dont do this” to the thundermen. travis tries to say, on twitter, “a character saying “dont do this” is different than me saying it” but i need to point out that it’s one thing if you’ve said “no” in character but worked with the PCs doing otherwise, but the railroading says differently.

the shipping

ill try to make this quick, because it’s nothing to do with the fandom (ship however you want, man) - but i really feel the need to draw attention to this.

fitzroy, as confirmed by griffin in a ttazz episode, is asexual. not aroace, but ace nonetheless. and i find it... troublesome that the idea of rainer and fitzroy having a relationship is still pushed nonetheless, despite the fact that fitzroy (to my knowledge) was never once shown to reciprocate any feelings. not to be that person, but i really hope that grad doesnt have any sort of romantic relationships in it (at least - not between NPCs and PCs unless they’re actually like... warranted?). 

i dont know, man. one of my closest friends is ace, and i know she wants a relationship, but i think it would reassure her a lot to see an ace character who isn’t pushed into one in case she ever changes her mind. someone once mentioned that they hope fi/tz/ra/in doesnt happen because theres relationships that have that “oh, you can just date” and it goes upwards there to “oh, you can have sex just to please them <3″  (which, to be honest, is kind of a gross mindset - if someone isnt interested, they arent interested).

also, uh, the TTAZZ where griffin states this, there’s kind of the mention tht the whole sexuality question was posed in relation to the episode “creative thinking” (the dream one i mentioned earlier) - which. uh. i don’t know if anyone caught this, but... rainer straight-up wrote fitzroy a letter in the dream like “are you going to accept my proposal? a girl doesn’t like to be left waiting” which. leaves me with some gross feelings because uh.

if... if the whole thing about fitzroys sexual orientation was addressed here, then why would you push your ship anyway? feels kinda iffy, man.

to which i want to say: fitzroy can date. he’s allowed to date. griffins allowed to do whatever he wants with his character. but when a lot of the flirting is met with nothing, i’m not gonna see the chemistry there. just because travis ships it doesn’t mean it’s canon.

the npcs

ah yes. lets talk about the npcs.

there’s... a lot. a lot a lot. i think travis trimmed down how many were present in a scene, but uh. there’s still a lot. and... uh... i kinda wish there wasn’t?

look, i know im going back to balance/amnesty, but just. hang in there for a moment. chill with me. vibe. 

balance didnt have too many NPCs present at all times in each mini-arc. gerblins had some big names like barry, klarg, gundren, killian, yeemick, and magic brian. rockport limited had angus, jess, graham the juicy wizard jenkins, and all of the tom bodetts mentioned. 

amnestys first arc had mama, barclay, jake, dani, pigeon, kirby, minerva, and that was about it for like. big names? and not all of them were present in each scene. 

in the first episode of grad alone: gary, hernandez, jimson, rolandus, zana, rhodes, buckminster eden, rainer, leon, tomas, hieronymous, higglemas, stuart, jackle, bartholomeus, mulligan, groundsy, germaine/victoria/rattles (the skeleton crew). and those are the ones i wrote down (minus groundsy, who i just. ignores. idk him).

like holy shit, my english prof got onto me for having too many characters in my first chapter and i didnt even have half the amount listed there! 

it’s just a huge cast. does this take place in a school? yes! theres bound to be a lot of students present - but you don’t have to name every single one of them, at least not in the first episode!

the miscellaneous

i don’t know if travis ever actually addressed it, but wheelchair users have actually like... said that rainer’s introduction bothered them, because she was like “please ask me abt my wheelchair :)” when travis saying she was in an ornate chair would have sufficed. 

uh. the colonization vibes people have discussed within the centaur arc. mentioned here, the replies here, and this post (and its replies) here as well.

the overall lack of d&d when the campaign was kind of advertised as a return to d&d if i remember correctly

also no one seems to be taking literally any criticism at all which like. ignoring the petty shit, sure, but people have stopped donating to taz and their listener-ship must have dropped some during this entire time - you’d think that maybe someone could say “we need to find out why people dont like the thing and fix the thing” consider this is. yknow. their livelihood.

anyway uhhh 

tl;dr: travis railroads way too much (even now), the shipping in-game has become pushy and gross (especially bc its shoving a relationship onto an asexual character), theres too many npcs that dont stand out well enough, and no ones taking any criticism about the major issues with grad. 

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 here!

A/N: I already know some of y’all are going to be mad, it’s 2020 and twilight needs some diversity, don’t @ me.

* You’re not really sure how you got here

* “This ones done”

* Edward holds out the blood bag to you, carefully pulling out the needles from you beloved Deer, Hayden.

* “Ah, thank you.” You place it carefully along with the others, before lavishing Hayden with affection

* “You were so good today! You’re going to get extra carrots, yes you are!”

* You’re aware of Edwards gaze on you as he disinfects the injection point.

* “You know it’s illegal to have Deer as pets in Alaska don’t you?” The corner of his mouth is quirked in the smallest smirk you have ever seen, and you roll your eyes

* “Tanya got a permit, the official stance is they’re her deer, I just take care of them for some extra pocket money”

* Not that anyone would venture into the “siren house” to ask questions

* You knew people were probably wary of coming up to the estate, even the mail man looked dead scared when he left Irina’s Lululemon packages in the mailbox

* But you didn’t think the locals legit called the manse “The Siren House”

* Edward told you they used to call it “The Witch House” but then, upon seeing the Denali sisters, changed it to Siren

* Edward doesn’t say anything, just moves to take the filled blood bags up to the house

* Ever the gentleman

* You really thought Edward would show up once, figure out he couldn’t read your mind, and retreat into his own moody silence.

* You figured you would mostly be dealing with Carlisle, who would teach you how to draw blood from your heard of deers, and then you would be on your own.

* But instead it was Edward who volunteered to do it for you, Carlisle was busy with his day job after all.

* He shows up once a week, usually after school, and carefully extracts the blood

* Then he puts them inside the fridge and leaves

* You really don’t get what’s going on, if he hates you so much why even bother coming over in the first place

* You’re about to fall into your usual rhythm of handing him the blood bags, which he then puts in the fridge when he breaks your routine

* “Why-“ your head pops up from the small pile of blood bags and to him. He’s looking away, but then his gaze meets yours. “Why go through all this trouble for a few deer.”

* You grin and hand him a blood bag

* “Another vampire might say the same thing to you, why go through all the trouble for a few humans?”

* He flinches, and you laugh. He’s so unaware of himself it’s actually funny

* “For the record, I do it because they remind me of my (Dog/Cat/Pet).” He quirks an eyebrow at that.

* “Your pet?”

* You nod. You’re number one concern on arrival here had been whether your dog was okay, but sifting through your memories of this life, you realized your dog had passed away in the middle of high school.

* “When I look into their face, all I can think about is my dog” you shrug, it’s the same with bears and other animals too.

* “Also, it’s kinda disgusting to drink that blood straight out of the animal.”

* Draining the blood must have deducted something from the taste, you can’t imagine what that skunky revolting flavor would have been like if you were drinking straight from the animal.

* Edward laughs. It’s the first time he’s laughed around you, pearly white canines in full view, the skin at the corner of his eyes folds

* It’s cute, very boyish. You get what Bella was talking about now

* “You get used to it after a while” he shrugs

* You shake your head, no one should ever have to drink that crap

* “Here, try some of my blood” you say it like you’re offering him some cookies you made. You pick up one of the bags, still warm, and he quirks an eyebrow

* This isn’t the first time you’ve offered, usually he declines and rushes to leave

* One time it looked like he might say yes, but then he noticed Tanya and excused himself.

* He accepts the bag, holding it up with one hand

* “Do you pour it in a mug?”

* And so you and Edward sip your blood-Capri-suns in the kitchen that’s only now started to be used

* You sit in the counter cross legged, while he leans against the adjacent counter. Both of you silently sipping your meals.

* “This is really good” he finally says, his blood bag almost empty.

* “Who’d you have? I’ve been trying to add different veggies to their meal to see if it brings out a different flavour profile.”

* He had Henrietta, who you had been giving more citrus too. Partially for flavour, and partially because she’s your favourite

* “It kind of tastes like...fruit punch” Edward recalls after a prolonged minute.

* He seems so nostalgic, you wonder how long it’s been since he’s had human food

* “I think genetics have something to do with the flavour too, the breed from this region all seem to have a fruity aftertaste”

* “I’m partial to deer since they don’t have a strong game taste aftertaste.”

* “Yes! That part is the worst, it’s like eating a skunk” You scowl and he laughs again.

* You know he doesn’t belong to you, he’s Bella’s, in a few years she’ll be all he thinks or cares about.

* But maybe the two of you can be friends until then.

* All at once the moments broken, Edward stands a bit straighter, the smile on his face gone.

* You turn to look behind you to see Carmen.

* Her head is tilted to the side, a smile tugging on her lips

* “You both look like you’re having fun.”

* After that the conversation is pleasant, but it definitely stutters until Edward eventually leaves.

* “I think he likes you” You’re reading a book by the fire, the gentle heat is nice and it sets the mood.

* “What?”

* Carmen’s grinning

* “The Cullen boy is interested in you.”

* You just shake your head. You doubt it, Edwards only got a one track mind for one person. And it’s not you

* “It would be nice if we could be friends though, I don’t really know many other people my physical age.”

* Carmen stops mid-stitch on her embroidery hoop

* “Is that something you want? Because the Cullen’s have other’s your a-“

* “I don’t need you to set up play dates for me Carmen”

* “Understood”

* Edward comes by regularly, to help you with your animals. You’re both always under the (discrete) supervision of one of your guardians (excluding Tanya of course.)

* And with each visit you learn a little more about him

* You find out that right now he’s masquerading as a senior in high school, he’s considering going to college for veterinary sciences

* “Why veterinary sciences?” You wonder if he’s about to poach your best deer and start his own blood business when he shrugs

* “It’s one of the few degrees I don’t have”

* You’re drinking blood-Capri-suns out on the porch, he’s still in his school clothes, including a very puffy jacket

* “What were you going to do?” Your raise an eyebrow and he elaborates “before you turned, what were you plans for the future.”

* “I was on my graduation trip, I was going to college in the fall”

* You got accepted into your safety school with a generous scholarship.

* Edward doesn’t press any further. But you can tell that he wants too.

* Many nights go by, you experiment with you animals diets, have supervised hang-outs with Edward, you meet Carlisle every so often who basically gives you therapy and helps you control your emotions

* Life is good

* But your growing complacency with the situation is starting to bother you

* You haven’t forgotten about Alec and Jane who are still fighting so hard to survive, or the countless others who would prefer this way of life if they only knew

* You know the minute you start being content is the minute the world wins

* So every night -or really every so often, you’ve lost all perception of time, the nights in Alaska are totally fucked and these heathens don’t even have a damn clock. Your only really sign of time is the mail man dropping off amazon packages- you sit and dream

* You think about giving back to the community, about saving your friends, and about dethroning fucking Aro

* You’re only at the beginning now, there’s still so much work to do, but it’s a start

* You hear a noise and your eyes open

* If you had a beating heart it would stutter when it saw Edward standing beside your bed, your hand moves on it’s own through reflex, clutching your heart

* Under the circumstances you would expect someone else to laugh, but Edward just looks confused

* “Are you...sleeping?”

* “I like to pretend, it’s a nice way to end the day” he raises an eyebrow at that

* “It’s 4 in the afternoon”

* “Well damn Edward, we don’t have any clocks in this house, how am I supposed to know what time it is.”

* He does laugh at that

* “Is it...nice?”

* “Yeah, it’s pretty relaxing, kills some time too.” Noticing the curious look on his face, you ask:

* “Do you want to try?” You pat the space on the bed beside you.

* You’re fully expecting for Edward with his old fashioned virtues to deny your suggestion. So you’re surprised that after several long seconds of silence, and a rather pained look, he adheres to your request and lies next to you on your bed.

* It’s a king size bed, so he’s at least three Great Danes away from you, but the closeness still surprises you.

* “What do I do now?” He says, eyes closed.

* “Daydream, or fantasise I guess, about things that happened in your day, or things you wish happened, places you want to go and memories you wish you could relive”

* “What do you usually dream about?” He asks, eyes open now

* “I think about Jane,” the answer is automatic, and you regret it as soon as the words come out. But Edward’s expression doesn’t change so you continue. “I think about my deers and my family too.” Most of the time you’re just thinking about what animal you want to excitement with next tbh

* “And sometimes I think about you.”

* And how glad you are to have a friend

* Edward doesn’t say anything for a long time, and for a second you hope he hasn’t misunderstood your words, you know he’ll never feel that way about you. All of those romantic feelings are saved for Bella

* “Would you like to come to my house sometime?” The questions throws you off, and your expression illicit’s a laugh from him. “Emmett and Esme are dying to meet the newborn from the Denali coven”

* That’s probably true for Esme, you’re pretty sure Emmett just wants to have some physical match with the “Volturi-reject”

* “That sounds fun, sure.”

* Maybe they have a clock in their house you can steal

* Edward shows up the next day in his shiny white Volvo to pick you up.

* On either side of you on the front porch are Carmen and Kate with their most fierce expressions (and behind them is Eleazer who just looks like he’s along for the ride)

* “Where are you going?” Kate asks

* “Our home on the other side of the mountain, you’ve been there before” Edwards got a small smile curling in his lips, and an eyebrow raised.

* “What will you do?” Carmen asks

* “My family’s having a board game night, I think we’re playing monopoly”

* “What time will you bring them home?” Kate intervenes, man they’re not even pretending to be polite

* “Well it’s not a school night-“ Seeing his joke isn’t going to land, he rethinks his words midway

* “Whenever they tell me to.”

* You’re half expecting to get a curfew, even though this household seems to operate without the concept of time, when Eleazer interjects

* “Well be safe, and have a good time.” He slides a backpack up your shoulders. “I packed you some blood bags in case you get hungry, Henrietta’s since I know that’s your favourite.”

* He’s the only one waving as you get into Edward’s car

* The view as you drive is breath taking, the snow covered mountains, abs crisp green trees

* Edward laughs beside you, at your awestruck expression no doubt

* “You don’t get out much do you?”

* You have your nose practically pressed to the glass

* “Not at all.”

* The Cullen’s home is reminiscent of the one from the movies. All light, with glass everywhere. It’s like a aurora, all wavy with no true shape

* “Welcome to our home (Y/N)” Carlisle greats you first, and behind him is... Esme

* She’s not at all like the books or the movie

* She’s definitely not white, you can’t tell exactly what race, but she’s definitely a POC.

* Her caramel cheekbones seem even more prominent when she offers you a smile.

* “It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’m Esme.”

* For some reason her being a POC, makes you feel more comfortable around her.

* Maybe you will ask her to draw up those plans for a proper barn.

* Edward stifles a laugh behind you, and you raise an eyebrow.

* “Emmett is dying to meet you upstairs.”

* You follow Edward up the stairs, finally meeting the family that spawned four books and a movie franchise.

* None of them look like they’re actor counterparts

* For one Emmett is black. And also really handsome, he’s got this Chadwick Boseman look alike thing going on and you’re down for it (RIP)

* Rosalie looks basically the way she was described in the books, all blonde hair and angel faced, but she’s the only one

* Alice is definitely Asian, she kinda looks like Lana Condor

* Jasper.... is ambiguously brown, but it still makes you let out a sigh of relief when you remember he was a Major in the CONFEDERATE army.

* More to the story than someone who was blatantly racist and supported slavery.

* They’re all beautiful, and they terrify you. You’re not exactly sure why, but something primal in you tells you to run away as fast as you can.

* But Edward lightly brushed the small of your back, pushing you forward. Right into the lions den.

* “Hello, I’m Rosalie”

* Looks like they picked her to be their spokesperson, all glittering smiles and flawless cheekbones. She extends her hand, and you lightly grasp it.

* “It’s nice to meet you.”

* It’s surreal to think how you know almost everything about this girl, while you two are virtually strangers

* Jasper introduces himself next, all smiles and quiet gentlemanly behavior.

* You’re not really sure what to expect with Alice, from what you know this girl has seen every future you could possibly have.

* Who knows what she saw

* But when she stands she hugs you

* “It’s good to see you!”

* “Alice, you haven’t introduced yourself”

* “Oh, right. I’m Alice”

* Emmett claps you on the back like you’re an old friend.

* “So, I heard you used to hang out with the sadist twins in the Volturi”

* You can practically feel the tension in the air, even Edward winces

* “They’re not so bad” really, what did anyone expect when they were in that environment

* Emmett grins

* “That’s bad ass”

* The rest of the night passes in a blur. The cullen’s game of monopoly includes some monstrous version where they put 8 different themed boards together and play in teams (You’re obviously on Edward and Alice’s team)

* They also have some sort of structure where they put four hotels together and called it a mega-hotel

* The whole thing blows up when Emmett accused Alice and Edward of using their powers to cheat

* “What do you want me to do, I can’t turn it off when I want Emmett, trust me I would especially when you and-“

* “Oh shut up Emmett, like we haven’t noticed Rosalie has an awful lot of $500 bills” Jasper interjects

* “It’s because you always pay me rent in small change!” She screams

* “Now-“ Carlisle tried to interject but Alice stands up

* “That’s a lie! I saw you steal from the bank several times when Esme wasn’t looking” Alice screams

* It goes on like this until Carlisle Declares the game over, and shoos everyone away.

* “Sorry, I would say it’s usually not like this, but I would be lying” Edward grins and you shrug

* “It was pretty fun and... entertaining in its own way” Edward beams at you, and once again, you definitely feel the dazzling effect Bella described in the movies

* “Should I... take you home now?” You can tell he doesn’t want to take you back yet, and if you’re being honest you don’t want to go back either

* The Cullen’s house has so much light, and you can see the stars so clearly here

* And if you’re being honest things seem to be way more entertaining here

* Edward takes you to a nook which houses a grand piano

* You’re fingers instinctively roam over the keys.

* “Do you play?”

* “Just a bit”

* You’re not the one who knew how to play, not really. But now this body is yours. You’ve thought about asking Carmen for a Piano, you’re sure they would love something that adds to the gothic feel of the mansion, but always cast it aside.

* You’re busy enough with your research.

* “Play me something” Edward grins.

* Alec had said the same thing to you when you were first taken by the Volturi, at the time your mind had raced wondering which piece would impress him the most. Which would aide in your survival.

* But looking at Edward now, you know that it’s not the same situation.

* He really does want you to play whatever your heart desires

* So you play “Love like you”, accompanied by your quiet voice reciting the lyrics

* At some point Edward sits beside you, playing in a deeper key, adding another layer of depth to your performance

* Wordlessly, afterwards he plays a piece of his own, Claire de Lune. Which you know is a remarkably hard piece.

* Still halfway you chime in, your super human fingers keeping up with him with ease

* And so it goes on like this, you play a modern song, waiting for him to catch up and he does the same with a classic

* Like a never ending game of cat and mouse

* It stops abruptly when Edward is in the middle of “moonlight sonata” when Alice clears her throat from behind you.

* “I hate to disturb,” there’s a teasing grin arched on her face. “But if you don’t drop them off, Carmen and Tanya are going to come over personally to retrieve them-“

* You see Edward wince, no doubt reviving Alice’s vision through his ability

* “And I don’t think anyone wants that.”

* You nod, moving to grab your backpack when you overhear Alice say-

* “You never let me play like that with you”

* Edward let’s out some sort of noise akin to a scoff

* “Where did you learn those songs?” He asks when you’re on the road

* Well you can’t tell him they’re from artists who aren’t known yet

* “Personal compositions” you murmur, and Edward grins his dazzling grin

* You talk about nothing but music until you pull into the familiar circle driveway of the manse

* Right when you’re about to thank him for a fun time, he gently stops you with a fleeting touch to your shoulder.

* “I’m graduating next month,” he hands you an envelope which you assume has his graduation card. “I was wondering if you would like to come to the ceremony.”

* You hold the card with both hands stunned, he’s already graduating high school?

* That means only 4 more years until he moves to Forks, and another two until he meets Bella

* And you realize that while time is frozen for both of you until the end of the universe, you’re the only one who isn’t moving forward

* “Yeah, I’d love that!”

* You try your best to smile, but your sure it comes off looking strange

* You don’t talk to anyone, heading straight for your bedroom

* What’s next for you?

[post-itpenny]

The Cathedral

Continuing with the story. Tagging @grotesquegabby be a Alex is here.

Magpie was sitting outside in the stone structure she had created. Adeline said she had liked it and allowed it to stay.

“It’s like a tiny cathedral,” the elder had chuckled. Indeed with its high arches and stony pillars the structure did seem reminiscent of its larger counterparts….. but so familiar, where had Magpie seen this before? Why did it make her feel so sad?

Magpie placed this feeling of sadness and confusion aside. She had something else to worry over.

She had woken up this morning to Adeline coming into her room and freezing in alarm before a deep growl came from the older woman’s throat.

It was jarring to hear such a feral and dangerous sound coming from the Elder of Healing. But Adeline had become a different person, searching the room as she followed a scent right up to Magpie’s bed. Adeline placed a hand over her forehead, at once Magpie was aware of a faint tingling sensation in her brain. Adeline cursed and rushed to search the rest of her home.

They were now outside together, Magpie making small butterflies appear in the palm of her hand as Adeline scanned the area like a hawk.

“I know she’s still here, the filthy sneak.” Adeline hissed. “Not even having the nerve to properly announce she’s here just waltzing into a patient’s room and tampering with their memories! You already have amnesia for goodness sake!”

Magpie listened with her head tilted in confusion. Had she not recovered her memories well enough? Sure there were a few blank pockets but surely it wasn’t the worst thing. To her understanding something bad had happened. Perhaps she had an accident of some sort? Did it matter since she was healing?

In her mind Magpie reasoned her situation really wasn’t that bad. She was gaining more and more control over her body everyday, she was under the care of a kind healer, she was visited almost everyday by friends and family. In these things she was happy. Yes recovery was hard and frustrating but it was still recovery, she was happy.

Except…

Magpie flinched at the ache in her chest. At once Adeline was at her side checking for injury. Finding something else instead.

“Do you recall if your lights used to move around before?”

Magpie thought for a moment before shaking her head no. Adeline frowned as she placed three fingers on Magpie’s chest. A glow appeared under Magpie’s skin, right over her heart.

“I will be honest I’ve never seen this before.” Adeline whispered. “But-“

There was a sound, a loud “snap!” as they both looked up. Another Elder had arrived.

—————————————————

It was early morning and the club had not yet opened. Alex awoke with the realization he was half hanging off a couch, upside down.

He frowned at being awake so early but awake he was nonetheless. Alex rolled onto the floor with a groan before climbing onto his feet and stumbling across the club, stepping over the occasional body. He was fairly certain most of them had just passed out drunk or from exhaustion. He didn’t feel like checking for a pulse right yet, but man was that an awesome night.

Alex chuckled at the sight of his DJ curled up asleep next to his equipment. Alex hopped over the bar and reached inside a mini fridge to pull out a Capri Sun and a Hot Pocket. Now where was the microwave again?

The door to the club burst open, Juno storming in with her brother following.

“Rise and shine!” She shouted. “We need your help.”

Alex hopped up onto the bar and stuck a drawing into his juice pouch. “Hmm...That doesn’t sound like the magic word to me.”

“Our aunt is missing.”

Alex blinked, then gave them a peace sign before beginning to fade out of the room.

“Hang on don’t just go off without hearing everything!” Vespers shouted, “you don’t even know what happened!”

Alex snapped back into existence, “then lay it on me Mothman. Pie can’t even walk so she didn’t just run away.”

—————————————————

Magpie was aware at once of the otherworldly snarls and growls around her as several things happened at once. Adeline had stepped up the the elder that had appeared and soon they were arguing. This new one wanted to take Magpie with them, something about their smile, the way they watched her. Magpie felt the burning sensation again within her. Something was wrong.

The next thing she knew the ground bucked and ripped, the cathedral she had built crumbled. There were shrieks and growls as the two fought. Something massive was standing over Magpie, it’s claws protectively curled around her and somehow Magpie knew it was Adeline

“I’m sending for help,” Adeline snarled. “I need you to leave. Go somewhere you feel safe.”

Magpie nodded, in a loud “snap!” She was gone.

————————————————

Maggie was frustrated. She had been walking backwards for what felt like hours, checking time strings as she went and still no answer. She was aware of someone shaking her shoulder, Billy no doubt had found her.

“He’s going to freak out if I don’t wake up soon.” Maggie groaned. “Please can we streamline this! I need an answer for what’s happening to Magpie.”

Maggie took another step back and now only three threads remained. All crossing at the same point, all of them belonging to elders.

Maggie identified one immediately as being Bridgette’s old thread.

Maggie took a deep breath to steady herself, and grabbed hold of the strings.

She was in Bridgette’s old home, it was oddly comforting to be surrounded by the familiar pillars again. But seeing the former Elder of Sight but a slight ache of sadness in her. To Maggie’s surprise however the elder was not alone.

The Jackal paced about in a frustrated manner, “late, late, late. Always late, why am I here again? I have things to do!”

Bridgette sighed, “all you would be doing today is rearranging your button collection Tom. Enough with your dramatics besides. I think you will be rather delighted with what I have planned for with your particular skill set.”

“His skill set is being an annoyance,” hissed a new voice. “Bridgette I asked to speak with you alone, why is he here?”

Maggie turned around, a shadowy figure had arrived. It had a hood up with an unseeable face with long auburn hair that spilled out of her hood and down to the floor. Gold eyes glowing but no other identifiable features. She was short but had a presence that seemed to fill the room.

Maggie looked back to find Bridgette looking directly at her, but the moment passed and Bridgette turned to the newcomer. “Welcome Lethe.”

———————————————————-

Magpie woke up on cold stone, she had teleported but was clearly out of practice. She struggled to sit up and was forced to stay on the floor, doing her best to turn herself over so as to survey her surroundings.

Magpie was in a cathedral.

The ruins of one to be exact. The high stone arches and pillars remained, but some walls had crumbled and moss had grown across the floor. She could see fields and trees outside.

At once a flood of memories hit her. She had built the smaller counterpart at Adeline’s home to model this one. This was her cathedral, where she used to play as a child. Magpie remembered spending some much time here, the church had been built and abandoned before her birth. She and her brother played here. Then just her because playing pretend was for children. But Magpie made this her castle and she was queen, she spent hours here overseeing an imaginary kingdom.

Magpie was crying, other memories filtered in. Her time locked away, her home, her friends, her dog, Jack, her death.

Magpie froze, she died. That’s what had happened, that was why people were so worried about her. She had died, but she was alive now, how? Why?

“I see it’s all coming back,” hissed a voice. “perfect.”

Magpie looked up into the eyes of the elder Lethe.