#when my partner went down the wrong trail I had to actually track sign

[mossysatyr]

Everybody's always mad when I can track them across the woods by scent alone

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Fist Fights and Hickeys

Prompt: Enemies to lovers smut with the teeniest bit of plot. Literally this is just pure filth. Please don’t read if you’re a minor, seriously this is not for you.

Warnings: SMUT! Swearing, Female reader, oral (female receiving),unprotected sex (I don’t have a fun rhyme explaining why that's a bad idea, just use fucking protection! dear lord, this is wizard shit im sure they have magic birth control but we aren't getting into that rn) also reader punches someone early on so violence, fluff and funny stuff at the end.

You walked down the hall as quickly as you could, just wanting the day to be over. It seems like no matter what you did today, everything went wrong. In herbology you dropped and broke a potted plant. In potions, your mixture exploded, coating you and your partner in blue sludge, which was still in your hair, and in divination, your tea leaves literally showed you an omen of death. At this point, you didn’t know how else this day could get worse.

“Hello Y/N” Fred Weasley said, sauntering up to your side. Welp, it just had to go and get worse.

“Leave me alone Fred” You said, irritation clearly present in your voice. You and Fred had a bit of a rivalry, whether it was at quidditch, or in your classes, or with pranks, the two of you were always trying to one up each other, which through the years, has created a bit of a love hate friendship.

“Somebody’s cranky” Fred joked, continuing to walk beside you.

“Somebody needs to shut the fuck up” You responded. Fred was about to reply, but before he could, someone interrupted him.

“Well well well, look what we have here! What happened Y/N, trying to go for a new look” Ethan Hawthorn said, pointing out your hair, which was still blue.

You didn’t answer, you just kept walking, Fred giving you a confused look. Ethan hawthorn was a Slytherin who you had a class with last year. The professor had asked a question, which he answered incorrectly, and when you corrected him in front of everyone, he deemed it appropriate to treat you like you had personally humiliated him in front of the whole school. He basically made it his life purpose to make your life difficult.

“Aw come on Y/N, don’t be like that, it’s nice! It distracts from your face!” He continued, him and a few of his friends now following you and laughing. Upon hearing what he said, Fred went to turn and confront him but you grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Oh is your boyfriend trying to save you? You probably hired him to be around you, god knows he needs the money” Ethan said.

Next thing you knew, you had whipped around and punched Ethan in the face. It was a bit of a surprise to everyone, including yourself seeing you wouldn’t really consider yourself a violent person. Before you could think about anything else though, you and Fred were sprinting down the hallway towards the Gryffindor common room, Ethan screaming profanities from behind you.

You sprinted to the entrance of the common room, quickly saying the password and running inside, relieved to find it empty. After running for your lives, you and Fred were pretty tired out, both of you walking over to one of the couches and falling onto it, trying to catch your breath.

“You know he’s going to try and kill you right?” Fred asked, turning his head to look at you.

“Worth it” You said, causing the both of you to laugh a bit, before you noticed the pain radiating from your hand. You sat up a bit and examined your knuckles, which were now bleeding a bit. Fred noticed and sat up as well, before gently taking your hand in both of his, looking at the irritated skin.

“You ok?” He asked, skill looking at your hands, which you were thankful for since it made it so he couldn’t see the blush forming on your face.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine” You replied. Trying not to focus on his long fingers gently brushing over the bones in your hand.

“You’re hands are so small” Fred laughed, breaking you out of your slightly flustered trance.

“These small hands can still slap the shit out of you” You replied, taking your hand back and laughing. 

“Here I think I have something upstairs that can help with the pain” Fred said standing, you following his actions and making your way up the stairs to the boys dormitory, walking inside to once again find it was empty.

You walked over and took a seat on his bed, Fred quickly fumbling through a drawer before coming to sit next to you, a roll of gauze in his hand. He sat across from you and gently took your hand again, carefully wrapping the cloth around your knuckles a few times before tearing  off the excess and securing it in place.

“Thank you” You said holding up your hand and examining his work, only to look over and see Fred staring at you, a bit of a frown on his face. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that guy” Fred said, the atmosphere in the room changing a bit.

“Fred its fine” You said, trying to change the subject.

“No its not Y/N! That dickhead is insulting you constantly, and for what? You don’t deserve to be treated like that” Fred said, standing and starting to pace around the room.

“You’re taking this way to seriously” You said, starting to get annoyed with his attitude. It wasn’t like you and Fred were super close. Hell most of the time you were at each others throat about whos better at what, and when you weren't doing that you were either annoying each other, or on a rare occasion, actually having a civil conversation.

 “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough!” Fred continued, still pacing back and forward.

“Why do you care so much!?” you shouted.

“Because I fucking love you!” Fred shouted back, stopping in his tracks to face you.

“What?” You asked, not quite believing what you just heard.

“I love you ok? I love the way you make everyone around you smile, and that you’re absolutely hilarious, and that you’re competitive. I love the sound of your laugh, and the way your eyes light up when you smile, and even when you’re being a complete pain in the ass you still-” Fred rambled on, only stopping when you cut interrupted him.

“Fred!” you said sternly, grabbing his attention.

“What?” He asked loudly, breathing heavily from his rant.

“Would you just shut the fuck up and kiss me already?” You asked. That was all Fred needed to hear, crossing the room in one swift motion and closing the space between you, leaning down to roughly push his lips against yours.

Your hands instantly went to his hair pulling him even closer, while his went to the back of your thighs, picking you up and walking you over to the bed, letting you fall back onto the mattress before quickly re connecting his mouth to your neck, biting the flesh there before soothing over it with his tongue.

You moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding them down his chest before landing at the hem of his shirt, pushing it upwards. Fred got the message and pulled away, making quick work of removing his shirt, before his mouth was back on yours, sucking on your bottom lip before his tongue met yours, swirling around in a fight for dominance.

His hands moved upwards, slipping under your shirt to roughly grab your breast, causing you to moan into his mouth. Your hands found their way to his waist, quickly working on undoing his belt. You had almost gotten it unfastened when Fred suddenly pulled away, looking down at you.

“Are you sure?” Fred asked, searching your face for any sign of rejection.

“I have literally never wanted to fuck someone more in my whole life, yes I’m one hundred percent sure” You replied

Fred didn’t waste any more time, quickly working on removing his shoes and pants, while you worked on removing your shirt and leggings, your skirt following soon after leaving you in only your bra and panties, while Fred stood in front of you, his eyes raking up and down your body, you started to feel a bit self conscious with his eyes on you, but before you could move to cover up a bit, his lips were back on yours, pushing you back onto the bed.

His lips started to move downwards, moving from your neck, to your collarbone, trailing wet in between your breasts and down your stomach before finally settling between your legs, looking up ay you before kissing down your inner thigh, deliberately not going near where you needed him most.

“Fred, please” You whined, trying to find some relief.

“Please what?” Fred asked, playing with the waistband of your panties.

“Please do anything just stop teasing- Oh fuck!” You cried, Fred moving your panties to the side and slipping two of his long fingers into you, making your back arch.

“Already so wet for me” He chuckled, pumping his fingers faster. “If you don’t like me teasing then why are you moaning”

You didn’t get the change to reply before Fred's mouth was suddenly on your core, licking a long stripe between your fold before swirling his tongue around your clit, making your head fly back and your hands grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, threatening to push you over the edge, but just as you were about to come undone, Fred pulled away, removing his fingers and making you groan at the loss of contact.

“What the fuck Fred?!” You cried, frustrated for being denied your release. Meanwhile Fred was crawling his way back up your body, letting out a low chuckle.

“Don’t worry babe, I’m going to take care of you. But when you cum I want it to be around my cock” Fred almost growled, causing a chill to run up your spine before he reached behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room, your panties and his boxers following soon after.

Fred propped on of his arms next to his head, helping to keep his weight off you while his other hand moved to his cock, slipping it between your fold a few times, looking at you for permission, which you gave with a nod, before finally pushing his length into you.

“Please move” You practically begged, Fred waiting to make sure you had adjusted before doing anything.

“As you wish” He teased, a smirk on his face, before he slowly started moving, pulling out half way before thrusting back into you.

You were just about to ask him to go faster, when he was suddenly ramming into you, his head moving to the crook of your neck, sucking on the flesh there, while your hands moved to his back, pulling him closer and creating long red trails as your fingernails desperately tried to find something to hold onto.

You bit your lip, trying to contain your moans, knowing anyone could walk in at any moment.

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” Fred said, sucking behind your ear, making your head spin.

“Someone could walk in” You said back, trying to come up with an excuse. In reality, you knew most of the other students were in class so you didn’t have much to worry about.

 “I really don’t care. You look so fucking hot writhing under me and I’m going fuck you senseless right now.” He rasped out, moving his free arm under your knee to hike your leg up higher, the new angle making you gasp, allowing him hit your G-spot perfectly each time. 

“Oh fuck, Fred- I’m gonna-!” You cried out, no longer in control of the pornographic sounds leaving your mouth.

“Cum for me, beautiful” Fred murmured into your ear, bringing his hand down to rub circles around your clit, finally pushing you over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping and flooding your body with pleasure.

Fred continued to thrust into you, helping you ride out your high before coming undone himself, resting his head on your shoulder as he came down from his high, slowing his movements before stopping completely, gently pulling out of you and flopping onto his back beside you, both of you staring at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath.

“That was...wow” You started, still to blissed out to think of the right words.

“Yeah... why didn’t we do this earlier?” Fred asked, causing the both of you to laugh, finally catching your breath and sitting in a comfortable silence.

“I love you too” You said, breaking the silence and making Fred look over at you.

“Really?” He asked teasingly, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Yeah, ever since you hugged me when we won that quidditch tournament last year, I knew I had feeling for you.”

“I knew when you made frogs come out of Snape's pockets for a week” Fred replied, causing you both to fall into another fit of laughter.

“Wow, so romantic” You teased, Fred moving to wrap his arm around you as you scooched closer into his chest, both of you moving under the covers.

“I know, its a gift” Fred replied, making you giggle. 

“Well, I should maybe get going” You said, moving to get up, knowing classes would be ending soon.

“You thought we were done?” Fred asked, stopping you in your tracks.

“We’re not?” You asked, a confused look on your face.

“Not even close” Fred replied, leaning in and connecting your lips again, to which you enthusiastically responded, before quickly pulling away, grabbing your wand and casting a locking and silencing spell on the door.

Needless to say, while you may have had a bad streak during your classes, you most definitely got lucky that night.

The next day you had to get up early for quidditch practice. You had suck out of Fred's room a few hours later without too much suspicion, but needless to say, you were sore. You walked to practice with your roommate Angelina, who was currently talking about something to do with McGonigal's hat, but you honestly weren’t paying much attention, too distracted by last night events playing over in your head.

“But I think she might be hiding something in it you know? Like... hold up. Is that a fucking hickey?” Angelina asked once you finally got to the bleachers, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What?! No!” You quickly defended, trying to move the collar of your shirt up, only for Angelina to slap your hand away, pulling your collar further down, exposing the dozens of marks that littered your neck and chest, which you didn’t realize you had this morning.

“Oh my GOD! Did you get beat up? Who’s the guy?” Angelina asked with a teasing tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” You replied, trying to keep your cool, digging through your bag to find your water bottle.

You stood back up, looking over to see Fred and George walking your direction. You gave them both a wave, your eyes lingering on Fred for a few seconds longer than usual. They dropped their stuff off a bit always from you, and started getting changed, both of them coming in sweaters.

“Besides” You continued, turning away from the twins, trying to keep your cool. “You have no right to talk, I know you and George are getting pretty comfortable in the room of requirement” You said, taking a sip of your water.

“That’s totally different and- Oh my god?!” Angelina said, looking past you, causing you to turn and spit out your water, the sight before you making you choke on the liquid.

Fred had taken off his shirt to change into his Jersey, and his back was covered in bright pink scratch marks. He heard the commotion, turning to see you covering your mouth trying to stop choking, not sure whether to be horrified or laugh.

“Jesus Fred, did you piss off a hippogriff and not tell me about it?” George asked, Fred suddenly realizing that of course, you would have most definitely left marks. Not that he was completely innocent either.

“Oh that, yeah I fell out of a..... tree” Fred said, making you smack your palm to your face. Sure, he may have been the best prankster in the school, but damn was Fred a bad liar.

Angelina took in your reaction, adding it to Fred's back and your hickeys, finally putting the pieces together.

“You two!?” Angelina said, pointing at the two of you. “Last night when you got back to the dorm late! You were fucking fucking!” 

“Shhhh!” I shushed loudly, making Angelina and George laugh.

“Fred and Y/N, sitting in a tree” George started

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G” Angelina finished, the two laughing and heading off to start practice, leaving you and Fred slightly embarrassed at the blatant teasing.

“Well, we’re never going to hear the end of this” You said, admitting defeat.

“Yeah, but at least now they know. But speaking of  K-I-S-S-I-N-G, you wanna...” Fred asked, moving his head towards the back of the bleachers.

“As fun as that sounds, It’ll have to wait. First I need to beat your ass at quidditch” You said, collecting your gear, looking up to see a gobsmacked Fred looking back at you.

“You are literally my dream girl, how did I get so lucky?” Fred asked, grabbing his things and walking with you to the center of the field.

“I know, I’m pretty much the best thing that's ever happened to you” You said in a serious tone.

“This dicks the best thing that's ever happened to you” 

“FRED!”

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed!!!! I didn’t read through this before posting so if theres any grammar mistakes I’m sorry, I literally wrote this at 3 in the morning because who needs sleep when you have Fred Weasley porn. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it, feel free to leave any feedback/recs!

[artyblogs]

Mean It When You Swing It

Read on AO3

Summary: For @caruliaweek. Prompt: Confession. After two years, Carmen arrives at Julia’s doorstep with a bouquet of red roses. She finds a nightmare instead. Tensions ensue.

---

The first bouquet was a prank on Carmen. Carmen wanted to do something nice for Julia, to thank her for her infinite patience, for blindly doing what Carmen asked without protest, and for doing so without prying. Carmen wanted to do something nice for Julia, and people give flowers to each other, right? They are given to performers after their shows, and to graduates after their ceremonies, and to the sick so that they might feel better. They are given to parents and children and friends and partners. They are given in grief, and they are given in thanks, and they are given in affection.

There was a florist down the street from Julia’s flat, so there Carmen went.

“Whatever they are, they have to be red,” Carmen murmured as she regarded the dizzying collection. There were so many different shapes and sizes, in so many hues, and it was making for a more complicated task than she first thought. In her ear, the sounds of Player’s constant keystrokes blend into the background when he speaks (he once explained something about microphone settings and sound engineering, but most of it went over Carmen’s head).

“How about red roses? Nine of them?” And even through the mic, she could tell that he was smiling.

“Only nine? Okay,” Carmen said and she asked the florist for a bundle.

“Wait, really?” Player almost shrieked, but his sound settings came through yet again to normalize the volume.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh, nothing.”

And that was that. It was only after the artifacts were set in front of Julia’s door, and after the doorbell was rung, and while they were on the plane out of Poitiers, that Ivy gently took Carmen’s elbow, steered her out of Zack’s earshot, and asked if Carmen meant to leave red roses for Julia.

“Flowers are flowers are flowers, right? Should I have left different ones?” Carmen asked.

Ivy’s mouth formed and ‘o’ and her green eyes grew wide with dismay. “Oh my god, you really don’t know.”

“Know what?”

Ivy clenched her jaw and scowled. She reached into her pocket, took out a small padded case, and unzipped it to reveal her Team Red earpiece. She plugged this into her ear, stood hands akimbo, and glared at Carmen’s left earring.

“Player,” she growled out. Carmen had never seen her so mad before; not even at Zack. And Player made a high-pitched squealing sound that she’d never heard him make before either.

“I didn’t think she’d actually do it!”

“God-fucking-dammit, Player! You know that Carmen doesn’t know about this kind of shit.”

“I’m sorry. But can you honestly tell me that red roses were the wrong move to make?”

“Do not try to worm out of this.”

“What do they mean?” Carmen asked. Ivy froze. Player too, fell silent. There was nothing but the drone of the plane engines around them.

“What do red roses mean?” Carmen asked again.

Ivy told her. And then she returned to Zack to give Carmen some time, and Player went radio silent for the same reason, and Carmen remained in the back of the plane, thinking.

Did she mean to give red roses to Julia?

---

Today, Carmen picks up a similar bouquet and signs the card with her name—her real name—and her hands take on an unnatural tremor. She flattens them against the counter, slapping the pen down in the process, and tries to distract herself by watching the florist tie a ribbon around the bouquet. They pull the free ends of the ribbon against the back of the shears to make them curl, then present the flowers to Carmen with a wink.

“Thanks,” Carmen says, weighing the flowers in her arms. Is this only nine roses? It seems heavier than she remembers.

“Good luck.” The florist takes the card and carefully tucks it into the tiny plastic trident bundled with the roses, then waves Carmen away with a smile. Carmen turns and continues down the street.

Carmen used to think she knew what love was. That at least Coach Brunt loved her the way a mother would love a daughter. She knows now that she didn’t. It was the kind of love that one has for a stuffed toy, or a limb, or a tool. She was beloved only because she belonged to VILE and did as she was told.

While she suspected that it wasn’t really love, she didn’t have confirmation of it until she met Carlotta Valdez. She believed that the woman who had captured her father’s heart had to be remarkable and she was right.

Her father gave her mother red roses. Usually a single rose, and sometimes a dozen of them at a time, but Carlotta preferred the single roses. She would tell Carmen how Dexter would break into some poor neighbors’ garden with a pair of shears in his back pocket, and how he would methodically choose the right one.

The neighbors entered their roses into competitions, so they soon learned to get dogs and guns. But Dexter never failed to get a rose. Not only because he was that good, but because he liked to see the look on Carlotta’s face when he presented them to her, and because he knew that no matter how beautiful the rose was, that Carlotta would always be lovelier.

Could Carmen love someone like that? The idea is…well. To be honest, she’s still not sure what love is and what love looks like, but she feels signs of it when she thinks of Player, and Ivy and Zack, and Shadowsan. She feels signs of it when she thinks of Carlotta. She likes to think she could. That she’s capable of it.

Could Carmen love Julia like that?

She would like to try.

Carmen carefully shifts the bouquet in her arms and crosses the street. Julia moved back to Oxford about six months after the raid on VILE headquarters. According to Player, most of VILE were round up by then, and the remaining work that ACME could scrounge up didn’t have anything to do with historical artifacts, so Julia had run out of reasons to stay.

Does Julia still drink tea? Does she still wax poetic about Older Futhark and Coptic?

Is she happy?

The apartment complex is really a collection of handsome brownstones that surround a small courtyard. There’s a barbecue pit set in concrete, and a swingset almost hidden amongst some trees. Two children make a circuit on their bikes, and a woman watches them while she idly pushes a toddler on a swing. Carmen avoids them as best she can and reaches Julia’s door. Music comes from inside; the radio, judging from the overlay of a DJ’s commentary. Carmen reaches up to press the doorbell and hesitates.

Two years and no word. No call, no text. Not even a letter. Two years.

Carmen takes a deep, steadying breath. It is unfortunate, but she had always intended to talk to Julia. Sooner than now, yes, but she did want to talk. She just…lost track of time getting to know her mother. To tell the truth, two years is not enough, but they have the rest of their lives. If Carmen didn’t come to see Julia now, then when would she stop by? In three years? Five?

Yes, it’s been two years, but Carmen is here now. She reaches up and presses the doorbell. There’s a muted chime from within, and a vague shout and footsteps, before the door is pulled open to reveal Julia.

“Hello?” Julia says, her eyes and face bright as if recovering from a bit of laughter, but her smile fades when she sees who it is. Her other hand comes up to cover her mouth.

“Carmen?”

“Hey, Jules,” Carmen says. The both of them stay like that for a moment, letting the music wash around them. The smell of roasted meat wafts around them too, as if Julia were interrupted in the middle of cooking dinner.

Julia’s dark hair is shaggy and ruffled. Carmen doesn’t remember if it’s always been that length, and she just carefully brushed it down for work, or if she’s growing it out. It looks good on her regardless, but then again, Julia could make anything look good.

“Who is it? Is it a package?” An alto voice sounds from within the flat. From the kitchen, wiping their hands on a rag, comes someone wearing an apron over their lean frame. Their dark, medium-length hair is tied back to keep it out of the way. At the sight of Carmen, they go very still, their brown hands still tangled in the kitchen rag.

It’s as if an ice cube has been dropped into Carmen’s stomach.

Julia looks nervously between the two of them. “Mars, this is Carmen, an old friend of mine. Carmen, this is my significant other, Mars Dakila.”

“I know,” Carmen says.

The first time Carmen saw Mars, she was sixteen on VILE Island. Back then, Mars Dakila was Cricket Bat. They arrived at the island and were shut away with the faculty for about an hour before they left with the Cleaners. The students of that year said that Cricket Bat wasn’t a thief at all, and Carmen had wondered why they were affiliated with VILE in the first place if they weren’t a thief.

She got her answer later, after Ivy and Zack had joined her crew. Sharkhead Eddie’s gang had taken over Darryl’s Donut Hole after all, and Carmen meant to break into the vault housed within and burn all of the counterfeit money. When she broke in, however, she found bodies instead. About five men were slaughtered, the dark blood pooling on the white vinyl, and she followed that trail of death to the vault, where Sharkhead Eddie gurgled wetly as he bled out on the floor. Cricket Bat stood over him in their spattered suit, with stained bolo knives in their hands, and dispassionately watched him die.

There was a newspaper article afterwards. The cops said that it was a mob battle, and Carmen supposed that in a way, it was, because the conflicts between VILE and the rest of the East Coast criminal gangs stopped after that.

Now, Cricket Bat, sorry, Mars is a scant seven feet away from Carmen—from Julia—and wiping their hands as if they’ll ever be clean. Julia steps between them, and Carmen blinks. She looks up at Carmen with a half-hard, half-pleading expression and the cold in Carmen’s stomach spreads through the rest of her body.

“We’ve met before,” Carmen says.

“In a different life. Do you want to stay for dinner?” Mars asks. Julia’s eyes widen as she tries to stammer something out.

“I’ll set another plate,” Mars says, and they disappear into the kitchen. Carmen watches them go, and when she’s certain that they’re out of earshot, she leans in towards Julia.

“Jules,” she whispers.

“Yes, I know. But they’ve changed,” Julia whispers back.

Carmen doubts that very much, but Julia continues.

“I swear they’ve changed. If you stay for dinner, you’ll see. Carmen, please.”

“Fine.” Not to see proof of this miraculous turnaround, but to get to the bottom of whatever the hell this is. Something is going on, and Carmen is going to save Julia from it if it’s the last thing she does. She straightens up and takes another deep breath. Julia slumps with relief.

“These are for you.” Carmen holds out the bouquet, and Julia’s eyes flicker with…sadness? Pain? She takes the flowers and cradles them against her chest, then gives Carmen a soft smile.

“Thank you. Would you like to come in?”

Julia moves to let Carmen inside, and goes into the kitchen. Carmen slips her converses off and sets them next to a shoe rack just inside the door. Julia’s heels and flats are there, neatly lined up, but there are also sneakers and brogues that do not belong to Julia. The hooks on the wall above carry two coats and two sets of keys. Carmen ventures in further, her horror growing by the second. Between the front door and the kitchen is enough room for a small dining table, and opposite the table is the living room. In the living room, on the wall above the sofa, is a collection of framed photographs. Carmen recognizes a couple pictures from Julia’s office in Oxford. There are also other people that have Julia’s eyes, or her nose. There is also a picture of Julia and Mars.

It’s a candid shot, judging from the blurriness and the tilt of the camera. Julia’s glasses are askew and she’s laughing. Mars, their face mostly hidden behind Julia’s, presses a kiss to her cheek. Carmen’s stomach lurches dangerously.

CLICK. The music stops as the radio is turned off.

“I’ll just get another bottle from the corner store, Babe,” Mars says as they head towards the door. They pull off the apron and toss it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Julia follows them, carrying a vase with the roses.

“I’m not sure that wine will ease this situation at all,” Julia says.

“We won’t know unless we try.” Mars slips on a pair of trainers, takes one of the sets of keys and turns to give Julia a quick kiss. “Be back soon.”

And with that, Mars leaves, shutting the door behind them. There’s an awful silence. Julia nods her head, like she’s psyching herself up, and turns to face Carmen. Her cheeks are pink.

This cannot be real. This…no. This is a sick joke. A prank. Ha ha. Carmen numbly watches as Julia sets the vase on a deep windowsill next to an old Skyflakes tin with a bunch of succulents planted in it. She beckons to Carmen, then returns to the kitchen. Somehow, Carmen finds the strength to follow her.

The kitchen is an organized mess, as most kitchens are while they’re being used. There is a bowl of mashed potatoes, a tray of roasted broccoli, and rack with two steaks. The sink is piled high with utensils. Julia takes a covered baking pan from the fridge. She uses a pair of tongs to take a steak from it and the places it in a skillet on the stove, where it starts sizzling. Julia puts the pan back in the fridge, sets the tongs off to the side, and looks at Carmen expectantly.

“Is ‘Mars Dakila’ even their real name?” Carmen asks.

“It’s their real name now,” Julia says. She turns the overhead fan on and returns to the skillet. There’s sauce in it too, and she tilts the skillet a little so that it all gathers to one side. Julia takes a spoon and begins scooping the sauce over the steak bit by bit, making sure to baste the entire thing.

“Does Player know?” Carmen asks.

“No,” Julia says.

“Do Ivy and Zack know?”

“No. And they don’t need to know.”

“Listen, Jules. I don’t know what they told you, but I know for a fact that they’re VILE. Faculty sent the Cleaners to clean, but they sent Cricket Bat to make messes. I….” Carmen pulls her hands down her face. “They’re dangerous, Jules!”

“Perhaps that was true two years ago, but they teach escrima at a local gym now. They’re reformed.” Julia picks the tongs back up and flips the steak, then continues scooping sauce. Carmen cannot believe what she is hearing.

“How long have they been conning you?” Carmen asks. Julia gives her a sidelong glance.

“They’re not conning me.”

“How long, Jules?”

Julia sighs through her nose. “We celebrated our one year about two months ago. Does that sound like a con to you?”

“Some cons go on for like seven years.” Carmen fights through a rising tide of guilt and desperation. Oh she is a fool. How could she possibly think she could go to Argentina for two whole years and expect everything to be fine? What an idiot she is! What a moron! And now Julia is completely blind to the danger she is mired in.

“It isn’t a con, Carmen,” Julia insists. She picks the tongs up one last time and uses it to prop the steak up on its side against the pan. She holds it upright and moves it a little every now and then to finish the sear.

Carmen could just…leave with Julia. She could just throw her over her shoulder and take her somewhere safe.

Julia sets the steak on the rack along with the others, then turns off the stove and the fan. She leans against the counter, her head hanging in defeat. “Carmen, why did you come back?” She asks in a hushed voice.

“What?”

“I mean, why now? Just as I was starting to…. I was finally….” Julia raises her head and Carmen doesn’t think she’s ever been the target of such longing. Unbidden, Carmen steps closer, and Julia’s eyebrows scrunch together as she continues to gaze up at her. Julia’s hand comes up as if to touch her arm, but she falters and it drops away.

“Jules,” Carmen breathes.

“You disappeared. I wasn’t surprised because that’s what you do, but then you stayed disappeared and I….” Julia drops her gaze. “You deserved to rest. You deserved to meet your mother in peace.”

She says the last part in near monotone, as if by rote.

“And I wouldn’t have been able to do that if it weren’t for you. I should’ve thanked you when I got that file. I should’ve thanked you sooner,” Carmen says. Julia’s cheeks turn pink.

“That wasn’t me.”

“I know it was you, Jules. Thank you for finding her.”

Julia waves it away, her blush spreading to her ears, but she asks, “is she nice, at least?”

“She’s wonderful.”

A bittersweet smile spreads over Julia’s face. “Good.”

Come with me, Carmen wants to ask. Julia could meet her mother and see for herself. But the front door opens, and Mars returns with a paper bag in hand. They slip their shoes off and put the keys back on the hook. Julia steps away so fast, it’s as if she’s scalded herself. She skirts around Carmen and goes to Mars. Carmen resists the urge to take her arm.

“I know you don’t like super dry wines, so I got a merlot,” Mars says. Their brown eyes light up when Julia comes near, and they hold the paper bag out to her.

Julia takes the bag and rucks it down to read the label on the bottle. “Not bad.”

“See? I know what I’m doing.” Mars kisses her cheek and—to Carmen’s dismay—Julia returns it. She does it absently, out of habit, before she catches herself and freezes. But Mars is already stepping around her and towards the kitchen.

“Was there enough sauce left for a third steak?” They ask.

“I managed it all right,” Julia says.

“Cool.” Mars comes to a stop just out of arm’s reach and tilt their head as they regard Carmen. “Sandiego.”

Carmen’s last name hasn’t been Sandiego in a long time, but she’s not telling them that. “Dakila.”

Behind Mars, Julia shies away as if witnessing an impending car crash.

“Would it be better if I ate with a butter knife instead of a regular steak knife?” Mars asks.

“You could make a plastic knife dangerous, Dakila.”

Julia gasps. “Carmen!”

Mars grins at Julia over their shoulder. “It’s okay, Julia. I’ll eat kamayan style if I have to.”

The name rolls so easily through Mars’ mouth with such familiarity and with such affection that Carmen must resist the urge to tackle them to the floor. Somehow, she unsticks her feet and moves out of the way.

---

The dining table is a small, rustic thing covered in scuffs and dents. To save on space, one end of the rectangle has been pushed against the wall. Julia sits at the remaining short side, and Carmen and Mars sit opposite each other.

While Carmen has never eaten dinner while within three feet of a serial killer, she has had worse evenings before. At least the food is good.

“But because I’m taking more classes than usual, my advisor expects me to graduate in three years, not four,” Julia is in the middle of saying. “I honestly didn’t think that I was taking that heavy a course load.”

“‘Doctor Argent,’” Carmen says, testing out the title. Julia ducks, her face going pink again. “It sounds nice.”

“My students already call me that, even though I tell them not to.”

“You still teach?”

“All phd candidates do. Just the introduction courses though, so it’s just the basics.”

“But you still love it.”

“I do.” Julia beams. “You know, I wouldn’t be able to do all of this in the first place if Mars wasn’t around. They take care of everything.”

“Do they?”

Mars has been mostly quiet all through dinner. They have a knife and fork after all, but they take care to keep their hands above the table, and to move deliberately and slowly. Once in a while, they’ll smile at something Julia says, as if sharing a private joke, or they’ll answer in short sentences, but that’s about it.

“Well, they do most of the cooking and the cleaning because they happen to like cooking and they happen to be rather fastidious,” Julia says.

“It’s the strangest sugaring arrangement I’ve ever been in. I’ve never paid anyone with chores before,” Mars says. Julia gasps and swats their arm, making them squawk.

“You absolute scoundrel! Don’t say that when we both know how whipped you are.”

Mars laughs. They laugh and their eyes light up again. “True! You’re probably the only person on the surface of this planet who could make me do anything.”

Carmen’s insides twist horribly.

After dinner, Carmen helps Julia clear the table and put the leftovers away. Julia ties the garbage bag shut with a double knot and tugs it free of the bin. Mars steps up to the sink and Julia tsks.

“Oh Mars, I’ll take care of those; you did most of the cooking.”

But Mars lathers the sponge and starts washing the dishes anyway. “It’s okay, Babe, I’ve got it.”

“I’ll help them,” Carmen says. Mars glances at her from the corner of their eyes.

“Really? Okay.”

Carmen takes a kitchen towel and stands at the dish rack next to Mars. Julia stares at them.

“You can’t be serious,” Julia half-whispers to herself, then louder, “Behave! Both of you.”

“Of course, Babe,” Mars says.

“I mean it,” Julia says, glaring at them both. “I will not come back to a dead body, understand?”

Mars smiles at her. “Yes, Julia.”

“Sure thing, Jules,” Carmen says.

This seems to mollify her, and she leaves to toss the garbage in the complex dumpster. Mars and Carmen wash and dry the dishes in silence. They pass the pans and the dishes first, and also the cutting board.

“You’re using Jules to escape ACME,” Carmen says. Mars’ eyes flicker, but they continue to wash.

“It certainly started that way, but then they stopped being a threat and I kinda…stuck around. Julia’s a remarkable woman.”

“Does she know how many people you’ve killed?”

“I don’t do that anymore; I promised her I wouldn’t,” Mars says as they place the trays and glasses into the rack.

“Oh, like that’s enough to stop you from killing again.”

“Be as skeptical as you want; I don’t care what you think. What matters is that Julia believes me.”

“What kind of sob story did you tell her to get her to trust you?” Carmen asks.

Mars shakes their head and starts cleaning the utensils. “I can’t believe this,” they mutter under their breath.

“Jules deserves better than to be swindled….”

“No, you know what, Sandiego? You just left her. You left. You wanted a fresh start and you got a fresh start and when you got it, you decided that there was no room in it for Julia. You decided that.”

By miracle, Carmen manages to not drop anything despite the shaking of her hands. Who the hell does Cricket Bat think they are to talk to her like this? As if she doesn’t care about Julia. Like she isn’t terrified that one day, she’s going to find out that Julia’s dead because Mars got tired of her, or didn’t need her anymore.

Because no matter what Mars says, they must be pulling a con. They have to be. They would never admit it, and if they passionately exclaim how much they ‘love’ Julia and it happens to sound genuine, then either they’re a very good actor, or they’re starting to buy their own con.

“How long did you expect Julia to wait around for you? Five years? Ten? Assuming you came back at all,” Mars continues.

“If Jules wants to be with someone else, fine. She deserves to be happy. But not with you. You’re a murderer,” Carmen says.

Mars glances at the vase of roses in the windowsill. “Maybe Julia shouldn’t take advice on her love life from you. Gotta say, green is an awful color on you, Sandiego.”

Carmen’s hands freeze above the utensils drawer. Everything else has been put away except one final steak knife. She holds the handle loosely between three fingers, and with one movement, she could just let go. She could drop the knife into the drawer.

Drop the knife, Carmen. Julia has been gone for several minutes now, so she’ll be back at any moment.

Drop the knife.

Beside her, Mars stands before a bare sink, hands empty except for a dishrag that they wind around their forearm in preparation.

“Mean it when you swing it, Sandiego.”

[spookyhalloweennights]

Wrong Numbers (Arlenix:SFW)

You stared at the number your friends had texted you, claiming that it was the number for a dating hotline. The idea of calling a hotline for a date seemed almost absurd to you, but it kept resurfacing at the most inopportune times. Like now as you were waiting in line at the grocery store, your cart was just full enough to keep you held over till next payday, but the couple in front of you were practically oozing romance. A sigh escaped you as your brain had finalized your decision. After you got home, you’d give the number a call. 

You had unpacked the groceries, and were now sitting on your couch. The number was dialed into the keypad, now all you had to do was actually hit the dial button. You had to psych yourself up for it, taking a few extra moments before hitting the green call button. Pressing the phone to your ear, you held your breath as the line began to ring. It took three rings before someone had finally picked up the phone, a deep voice came through, though it was pleasant like a customer service representative should be and you couldn’t help the quiet giggle that escaped you as they began their usual routine it seemed. 

“Hell’s dating hotline, how can I help you?” They asked you, you could practically picture them sitting at a desk tapping their pencil against it. 

“Y-yeah, I’d like to request a date? Or a matchup…” You further explained, the person on the other line giving a long sigh as they shuffled around. 

“Of course, please explain yourself, looks, what you’re looking for, and most importantly what your species is.” They responded in a monotone voice. 

You froze for a moment before hesitantly beginning to describe what you were like, your hobbies, and what you looked like. You could hear the person chuckle quietly on the other end every time you paused and seemed to think a little more than what someone would. After you finished, you waited for a moment before quickly interjecting one last thing about yourself that you felt was really important. 

“I’m also asexual, I hope that it won’t be too hard to find a matchup because of that, I’m really looking forward to whoever you think would be a good fit.” You rambled while the other listened intently. The fear of not finding someone because of who you are made a sense of dread build up that wasn’t relieved until the person on the other line had spoke again.

“That changes things up, alright sweetcheeks let’s see who we got in store for you.” They hummed, time seemed to stand still as you waited for the response. 

“I see you’d be a perfect fit for our Arlenix, he’s a sweetheart. I’ll share your contact details with him, and will send you his information as well. You will receive a text holding all of the information, please let me know if you receive it.” They explained to you, waiting for your confirmation on whether or not you got the text. 

You pulled the phone away from your ear as a text message from an unknown sender popped up, you clicked it open which revealed all of the necessary contact information for your match. You put the phone back up and confirmed you had indeed received the text. They then had wished you a good day and good luck with your match. 

Arlenix was the one to initiate the conversation with enthusiasm that you were quick to match. The conversation with Arlenix seemed to never falter or get awkward, they were right, he was an absolute sweetheart. The match was almost too good to be true, they couldn’t have paired you with a better person. 

You had suggested meeting up, but there had always seemed to be some kind of excuse that came from him. You figured perhaps he wasn’t confident enough in himself, or he really was just that busy. Either way, it was starting to eat at you not knowing what he looked like. There was only so far your imagination could take you, and you desperately wanted to know who exactly you were talking to. 

“Hey, Arlenix?” You tried catching his attention the one night you were on a call with him. He hummed in response, letting you know that he was paying attention. “Can we meet up? Please? I really like you and…” A sigh from the other end had you pausing in your words. 

“I really don’t think you’d like me but… Since you’ve asked, I don’t see why not… I’ll text you the address to meet me at later, okay? I gotta run.” Arlenix mumbled as the line went dead. You sighed before tucking your phone away into your pocket. 

You had checked, double checked and even triple checked your text messages, the address for the music store glowed brightly on the screen. It was almost fifteen minutes after Arlenix was supposed to meet you and you had yet to catch sight of him. You were just beginning to lose hope when the bell above the door had rung. Glancing up, you noticed a lanky figure glancing around, he was hunched over so he wasn’t as tall as what he should be. Spikes that looked to be made of bones rose up along his back right along the center while bat-like wings were tucked close to his body so they wouldn’t snag on anything. 

His eyes were pupil-less and black, his hands were more claw-like you noticed as he gave you a slight wave. Ah. That must be Arlenix. You glanced down at your phone, pulling up the messages from your friend who had sent you the message in the first place discreetly as you offered him a wave back with a smile. Noting the difference in the two numbers, that's where it had gone wrong. You had called the wrong hotline, and somehow managed to call a demon dating hotline. Not that you minded, if anything you enjoyed Arlenix’s conversation more. 

Arlenix moved towards you, shuffling about carefully as to not destroy anything in the shop until he had reached you. He held out a small bouquet of flowers and you took them gratefully. 

After the first date came the second, then the third and so on until you couldn’t keep track of them. You had yet to figure out what Arlenix actually was, as he wasn’t an ordinary demon, those you had seen and they didn’t look like him. He wouldn’t reveal it to you, not even after he had moved in with you after a few months of dating. The thought was always tucked away in the back of your mind, and it was during one of the routine cuddling sessions you two had when you had brought up the topic again.

“Arlenix, what are you? I know you’re not a regular demon, those I’ve seen and none of them look like you.” You mumbled, feeling his gaze shift down towards you. 

“It’s not important, besides… What if I scare you away when I tell you what I am?” He asked, genuine fear in his voice as his grip on you tightened just a little more. You turned in his lap to face him, huffing quietly. 

“I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you say or do, we can work things out. I’ve been with you long enough, if I didn’t like you I would’ve left after realizing I had dialed the wrong number for a dating hotline.” You responded, gently brushing your fingers across his cheek and he leaned into the touch with a pleased sigh. 

Silence fell between the pair of you until he shifted slightly, running his fingers through your hair before he began to speak. “I’m an incubus.” The words fell from his lips like a ton of bricks, his shoulders tensing as he awaited your reaction. 

“But not a normal one since we’ve never…” You trailed off, not completing the sentence as Arlenix nodded in response. 

“I had tried, repeatedly, I mean that’s what an incubus is supposed to do right? But… I felt gross afterwards, and I had never initiated it. It was always the opposite party starting things. I didn’t know that you could not want sex, for my kind its practically unheard of. I had asked to be taken off the list for incubi when it came to summoning and tried other jobs. When I heard about the hotline, I thought that perhaps it could give me the chance at something I really wanted to, so I had signed up.” He explained, rubbing at his eyes in a way that would make you think he was trying to keep from crying. 

“But then… How do you feed?” You asked, giving him a reassuring squeeze as he seemed to relax just a bit, you hadn’t yelled or left him yet so it must be okay. 

“Like this? I uhm, figured out how to feed off of emotional intimacy and well… Cuddling like this without hurting my partner or making them feel drained. That’s how I knew they had matched me with the right person. You weren’t afraid when you first saw me, you were intrigued.” He mumbled quietly, resting his chin on top of your head. 

“Arlenix?” He glanced down at you when you tried to get his attention. “Thank you for answering that question, I love you for who you are, not what you are. The cuteness I get is just bonus points.” You teased lightly, watching as his face flushed with color. 

“I’m really glad you misdialed that number.” He muttered with a huff, which only made you laugh in response.

[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 3: Rookie Hazing?

(Lyn)

My breathing fell into my familiar breathing pattern as I jogged through the town. The early morning sun was peeking through the clouds, trying to be seen. My music was blasting through my earbuds as I turned to go through the walking trail this morning.

Today was the first day of actual classes and practices. Me and a few of the others already have been to the pool a bunch this week, but this is when shit got real. After the disappointing loss to Turner University at last year’s AUS, Coach Jacob and team really wanted to get the title this year. It was one thing to lose, it was another thing all together to lose by 1 fucking point. Ugh, even just thinking about it pissed me off. Turner is a good school, don’t get me wrong. But man, we worked our assess off last year.

I passed by an older couple going out for their usual morning walk. I waved to them as I always do, earning a smile in return. I liked the coziness of this small town. Being able to see the same people every morning doing their routine as I did was relaxing and brought a sense of calm to my otherwise chaotic life.

I sprinted the final couple of kilometers home, slowing down as I approached the track around the football field. Loryn, Maddie, and Andrew where already there, chatting as they stretched for their early morning workout.

Loryn smiled when she saw me coming and tossed me my water bottle. I pulled out my music and took a huge swig from it. “Thanks, I really needed that,” I said. I lifted the end of my shirt and wiped the sweat and water off my face.

“No problem-o,” she responded. “How was your run?”

“Same as usual,” I said as I take another drink.

Andrew walked over and gave me a huge hug. “Ready for the season, Lyn?”

I nodded into his shoulder, holding onto his shirt. Andrew was the captain of the Men’s team, and he was like an older brother to me. This was his last year on the team, and I really wanted to win the championship for him and the other 4th years. They put so much into this program, and just one win would be an awesome reward for them.

“Please don’t cry, or I might start too,” he mumbled.

“Not crying,” I pulled away, grinning at him. “I’m just thinking of how lame the team’s gonna be once you finally retire from it. Are they gonna make Will the captain next year, because like, yeesh.”

This earned a laugh from Andrew. “Well, I frigging hope not. Y’all better vote for Oliver, or Thom. If Will gets the captain position next year, you’re all doomed.”

“Fuck me with a rusty screw if Will gets it,” said Maddie bitterly. “The only thing bigger than his ego is his Hummer. I swear, I will never get over his parents airlifting that thing across the fucking country.”

It’s not like we hated Will or anything, he just was a huge pain in the ass. Both his parents are doctors, and he makes a point of letting you know how much money he has. During his first year here, apparently, his parents had his Hummer helicoptered across the country so he could have it here. Not sure why he didn’t drive the damned thing instead, but the rich do very extreme and extravagant things to prove their wealth. Maddie is a 3rd year like Will, so she’s been putting up with his Will-ness longer than Loryn or I.

We did our usual morning workout routine, just to get used to the rhythm again. Medicine ball tosses to each other with an added squat. After that, 2 sets of 20 jackknifes, 2 sets of 25 crunches, and 2 sets of 1 minute plank. We did our wheelbarrow run across the football field, giggling like fools as we did. Andrew and Maddie beat me and Loryn by a fingertip. Loryn jokingly apologized for being too short, a running joke on the team.

After that, we headed to food hall. Loryn liked to make fun of me for calling it that, since it was technically called meal hall, but that’s where I get all my food, not just meals. Hence, food hall. Still, she immediately started teasing me as we got near it.

The hall was abuzz with all the new frosh and returning students talking about their classes. It was nice to see this place so lively after being essentially dead for the week. I could already hear people talking about going to First Class Bash, the big first party of the year. I never really went to those often, parties that is, since the team had a drinking ban in place as soon as the season started. Maybe if some of the guys on the team wanted to go I would, but I was just as happy to stay in with the goofballs and have our own get together.

Oh shit, speaking of. The rookie party was this weekend, actually. It almost slipped my mind. Today was their official first day. It may sound weird, but Coach Jacob liked having them come for their own practice to get used to each other and the facilities first. That way, if they don’t feel like sticking around, there’s none of that awkward shame of seeing your ex-teammates on campus. Not that anyone actually gave a shit.

I sat down next to Matt and Kerry, two members of the team. They were nearly identical twins, but with different body builds since they swam different strokes. Matt was bulkier in his shoulders and trunk cuz he swam butterfly like I did, while Kerry was leaner but a bit bowlegged from swimming breaststroke for so many years. Kerry was letting her hair grow out after shaving it last year, and it was tied up in this stupidly adorable tiny ponytail, while Matt had shaved his hair into practical buzzcut. Kerry leaned over once I was settled and pointed.

“Did you see?”

“Did I see what?” I asked as I shoved the whole fried egg into my mouth.

“Derek is sitting with Poppy.”

I rolled my eyes. Derek Freeman was one of my exes from last year. Lyn from first year got a little crazy when it came to dating, and I ended up going through 6 different people before finally calling it quits. Derek was one of them, but he was by far the worse. He got super possessive and couldn’t understand why I dumped his creepy ass. He always knew my schedule and followed me everywhere. He would wait for me outside the pool and walk back to my res with me, which would have been super sweet if he didn’t ask to come inside every single time. Even after we broke up, he still followed me places. Eventually he got the message once I started dating Willa Hoffman, but man was he annoying.

Then there was Poppy. There was nothing wrong with her, per se. We just were partners on a project last year and she nearly cost me getting an A+ in Intro to Sociology, much to my annoyance. I cared a lot, maybe a little bit too much, about my grades. So, yeah, there’s nothing that really pisses me off more when you get stuck with a shit partner for a project.

“Honestly, Ker, I don’t care,” I said. “Hell, they deserve each other IMO.”

Kerry shrugged as she got back into her seat properly, finally letting Matt get back to eating. We ate in comfortable silence before Matt spoke up.

“Gunner is on probation.”

I dropped my fork in confusion. Even Kerry looked confused. “What do you mean, Matt?” I asked, leaning against the table as I did, locking eyes with him.

He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “Okay, don’t tell anyone because I’m not supposed to know, but Gunner was caught doing drugs this summer. Like, coke. Anyway, Jacob heard about it and helped him through rehab and stuff, but the dean put him on probation until his grades and attitude prove that he actually got clean.”

“Shiiiiiiit,” I pushed my tray away. Leo Gunner was the best sprinter on the team, leading the Men’s team to having great scores in the relay last year. If he wasn’t allowed to swim this season, we might be in serious trouble. There was no one as fast as him. The next best would be Parker, and even then, he wasn’t near Gunner’s level.

“Oh, that’s awful,” said Kerry, putting her hand over her mouth.

Matt nodded. “Yeah, it’s shit for sure. I talked to him this morning and apparently, he’s allowed to practice, but he might not be allowed to sign up for the meets. I think Jacob might bring it up to Andrew and Emma today, but he might not let the rest of the team know just yet.”

The information sat heavy in my stomach. I walked all the way to my class with my mind racing, wondering if there was any way we could fight this decision. All conclusions came to a resounding no. The university was pretty strict about athletes using illegal substances. They only thing that probably saved his ass was that it happened this summer.

I took my usual spot near the front, waiting for the rest of the students to fill in. This was a second-year history course, and I really wanted to be psyched for it, considering history was my favourite subject, but it was hard when I was worrying about things out of my control.

“Mind if I sit?”

I looked over and nearly groaned when I saw it was Will. I nodded, but he was already taking the seat anyway. I hated sitting next to Will, he just sat on Instagram the whole time, or TikTok. Fuck my life right now.

He reached over and tugged on my ear. “Why the long face, Lyn?”

I batted his hand away. He knew I was self-conscious of how big my ears were, and he liked to pick at that at any opportunity. “No long face here, Will.” I forced a grin onto my face before turning my attention back to my desk.

“Whatever you say.”

Ugh, def getting a new seat on Thursday. I can’t deal sitting next to him and dealing with his antics at practice too. There was only so much abuse one gal could take for the day.

XXX

Thank God it was Friday!

I managed my schedule perfectly, so I had no classes on Friday. It made the other days more miserable for sure, but having a three-day weekend every week? Exactly what I needed to stay on top of things this year. Just practice in the afternoon, and I was free to enjoy myself. The rookie party was tomorrow, and they were a good batch. Loryn’s younger sister Robin joined the team this year, which was super exciting for her.

I got to enjoy breakfast without having to rush it, plus no homework was assigned this week. Today was a nice one, and I was looking forward to just being able to chill and enjoy it. As I left, I happened to notice that Ally was leaving the food hall. Grinning, I raced over to where she was.

“Hey, Ally!” I fell into step beside her.

“Lyn!” Ally looked up at me, a smile breaking out. She had her hair in this half up pinned style, it looked really good on her. Also, she was wearing different glasses today. She usually wore some rectangle ones, but these ones were like a half moon shape.

“How’s your first week, frosh?” I asked.

“Well, after the disaster that was the bookstore incident…” she looked down, thinking about something before shaking her head. “It’s been lovely. I think once I get into a nice routine, I won’t feel as anxious.”

I was curious about the whole bookstore thing, but I respected that she clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it openly with me. Fair enough, we only just met last week, and I barely have seen her since.

“Hey, well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself so far! Is it cool if I walk with you until your next class? I’m free.”

“Oh,” she smiled shyly at me, “that would be really nice, actually.”

I smiled back. We chatted about her classes all the way to Bennet, where her class was. I leaned against the wall as she finished explaining something about her drama class. That was a class I took in first year, but it sounds like she has Professor Kinkly, whereas I had Professor Statton. Kinkly was more by the book, Statton was know as the campus kook. I had a feeling Ally was gonna like Kinkly more.

“I guess I should head in, huh?”

“I guess you should. But hey,” I said, “we should totally hang this weekend, you know? Whatcha doing tomorrow?”

Ally looked contemplative before shaking her head. “Nothing, I think.”

“Perfect! Let’s grab a bite to eat, and you can finish telling me all about your week.”

“O-okay, sounds great!”

Ally wished me a goodbye and dashed inside, as to not be late for class. I watched her go before snorting under my breath. I liked her, she was smart and funny. It would be nice to have someone as a friend outside the team. Guess it was just my lucky day when she approached that table I forced Loryn to help me set up.  

Feeling great, I practically skipped all the way back to my res.

XXX

The smell of chlorine was something that was never going to get old. It calmed me when nothing else could. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but the pool is my second home. Didn’t matter how I felt at home or school or whatever, I could come to a pool and swim those thoughts and troubles away.

We finished with our pre-practice routines, and I jumped into the pool, shivering a little as the cold water enveloped my body. Right away everything felt amazing. Reach, pull, reach, pull. The easy lazy rhythm of the warmup let my thoughts drift away. It was nearing the end of the warmup when I caught Andrew’s eye underwater during my turn, and we ended up racing our last 25 meters. He beat me and we high fived as I hung onto the lane rope.

Coach Jacob laughed as the others finished their warmups. He was a retired swimmer himself and did things to keep himself in shape. He had one of those kind faces that really made you feel welcomed. Sure, he could be a hard ass, but he just really wanted win, like we all did.

He read practice off the board for us, and we did as was instructed. In in a blink of an eye, practice was over, and we were all hauling our asses out of the pool. Practice wasn’t too hard today, but since it’s been a while since any of us had structure like that, we all felt the ache of the week catching up with us finally.

“Okay, gather ‘round!” Coach Jacob called out. We all headed towards the bench and took seats. Loryn sat next to me and we cuddled, trying to not freeze as we listened to what he had to say.

“So, this is the last year for some of us,” he indicated the 4th years with a nod, “and a new beginning for others,” a nod to the 1st years. “However, the goal is the same. We wanna be number one at AUS’s this year. We wanna send people to CIS’s this year. We wanna kick Turner’s stupid butt all over the pool deck. We start morning practice next week, 5:30 sharp, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Gym time is 6:00 on Tuesday and Thursday. We have our usual afternoon practice at 4:30 every day. If you can’t make practice, the reason better be fucking good. Rookies, never be afraid to ask questions. These guys are your family while you’re here, and like family, sometimes we don’t always get along. But try your best to stay pleasant with the others. Lastly, welcome to the Mount Seamus Wolves!” he finished with a huge grin. We clapped and headed into the locker rooms, where a hot shower was calling my name.

“Man, I am looking forward to the weekend!” Loryn said with a huge stretch as we grabbed our shampoo and conditioner.

“Me too,” I said with a grin. “I already made plans.”

“Oh my God, shut up! Who with?”

“That cute frosh from last week.”

Loryn scrunched up her face in thought. “Gabriel or the brunette you showed around?”

I laughed, hitting her playfully with my towel. “Dude, you’re the only one who thinks Gabe is cute, you know?”

“Not true! I know Jackie does too!”

“Damn right I do!” Jackie said, walking by us with a laugh.

We all laughed as we turned the water on. It felt great to take a hot shower after practice. We were gossiping about people on campus when I noticed something strange.

“Emma, are you okay?”

Emma, the captain for the Women’s team, looked over. “Huh, why you ask?”

I blinked. “Because you’re covered in…blood?”

She looked up and shrieked. Sure enough, something red and gooey was coming from the shower head. Actually, it was coming from all the showers! We all screamed and ran out, not even bothering to turn them off.

“What the actual fuck?” Emma was shaking with either anger or fear, wasn’t sure which it was. “Did someone think it would be funny to prank the rookies or something?” She whipped around to glare at all of us.

When no one fessed up, she growled in annoyance. “Okay, maybe one of the guys thought it would funny? Whoever did this, it’s seriously fucked up. Getting sprayed with fake blood is not how I wanted to end my Friday night!”

“Uh, not to be that person, Emma,” I said hesitantly, “but if it was fake blood…wouldn’t it have stopped by now?” I pointed over to the running showers, where a steady stream of red was still coming out.

Emma’s face paled. She looked at her hands, where the blood was and sniffed it. “Oh my God…it smells like copper.”

That’s when Jackie threw up all over the floor and Kerry burst into tears.

XXX

I was in my room, curled up under all the blankets I could possibly be curled under. We texted the boys after, to see if something similar happened to them. When Andrew and Matt both responded no, we got even more freaked out. We ended up calling campus security for them to see if there was something they could do about it. They said they would look into and escorted us back to our residences. I took such a scalding hot shower that I was still pink from it, but I still didn’t feel clean.

The group chat was blowing up with questions. The poor rookies were understandably upset. They thought someone was trying to haze them, but that wasn’t the case at all. Hazing wasn’t something we did anymore. They didn’t do it in my first year, and Emma said that her class was the last one that got hazed.

I didn’t have the energy to be dealing with this, so I muted the chat for the time being. Nura was sitting on her bed, her eyes on her computer screen but I could see her looking at me from time to time. I mean, I would be too. If Nura came back and told me that she just ended up taking a blood shower, I would be fucking concerned too.

I rolled over and tugged at my ear. It was habit of mine when I was anxious about something, and I was definitely anxious about this. If it turned out to be a stupid prank from one of the other teams, that would be one thing. But if it wasn’t…then what did it mean?

I had this crazy thought, pulling my phone up to my face. I wanted to see if it happened any time else. I did a quick Google search, and found out that this wasn’t the first time that something like this happened at this school. It was in 1968, and in 1995, and again in 2007. Okay, that was interesting.

Okay, so unless someone was dumping bodies into a water reservoir that only affected the women’s locker room, something freaky was going on. I’m not that big into that spiritual mumbo jumbo, but I’m not going to deny that this was more than a coincidence. However, it was history, something I specialized in. If I could trace back and see if there were any more connections, maybe I can establish a pattern.

That was a problem for Lyn of tomorrow, however. I was thoroughly exhausted after tonight’s events. I bookmarked the page on my phone, just so I wouldn’t forget. I was going to need my laptop for this.

I just hoped I could find something that can explain what the hell happened.

[haberdashing]

I Am Destruction, Decay, And Desire (4/?)

Martin finds out that Jon’s going to meet with Jude Perry and acts to intervene. It goes… poorly.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

on AO3

Martin had never been a fan of the old idiom that time heals all wounds. In his experience, if time made you forget about certain wounds, it was only because newer ones took precedence. That being said, however, by the time Martin returned to the cafe where the life he’d known had ended just twenty-four hours ago, his mood was as least somewhat better than it had been the previous night. He still was all too aware of what had happened, but it didn’t sting quite as badly as it had when it was fresh.

He still had a purple smudge on his finger that had not in fact washed out during his bath, or rather his mostly-unsuccessful attempt at the same, but that was... fine. It would be fine.

Martin had made a point of being on time to the meeting he had arranged, but even so, he saw as he had arrived that both Jon and Jude had beaten him to the punch, having taken a seat at opposing sides of an outside table.

Jon was wearing the same ridiculous fluffy pink coat as he’d worn the day before, though if it was especially chilly out Martin couldn’t feel it, and Martin felt a pang as he got closer and saw that it was still visibly stained where his waxen hand had brushed against it.

As Martin approached the table where Jon and Jude sat, he found that that same coat he had fixated upon was apparently the current topic of discussion.

“Look, I lost my normal coat, and i-it’s cold. Some of us actually feel it, you know?”

Martin’s stomach sank a little further at that confirmation that it was indeed cold out, that he simply couldn’t feel the cold anymore, that that was yet another sign that he was no longer human. (Even if it was kind of amusing to watch Jon get so indignant about that coat, of all things...)

“You wouldn’t shake my hand.” There was a strange grin on Jude’s face as she spoke, a grin matched in intensity by Martin’s growing certainty that this conversation was going to be... well, simply “uncomfortable” was probably a best-case scenario, now, wasn’t it?

Martin pulled up a chair and sat down between Jon and Jude; Jon glancing his way for a moment before returning to staring at Jude, and Jude nodded vaguely in his direction but didn’t otherwise acknowledge him. That was fine, though. There were worse things to be than overlooked.

“Well, no, I’m not stupid! I saw what happened-”

Jude’s grin only got even wider as Jon spoke, and evidently he noticed, as he switched conversational tracks quickly enough.

“L-look, will you stop that?”

The wild grin turned to biting laughter, though only for a brief moment. “Oh, alright. Ah… I hate explaining jokes, but, um… Imagine you’re, um… a butcher, and one day an injured little lamb walks into your workshop, and strides right into one of the mincing machines, but when you go up to it, knife in hand, it shakes its head and tells you ‘I’m not stupid’. Do you get why that’s funny?”

“Right.” Jon didn’t sound the least bit amused even after the explanation, but honestly, Martin didn’t exactly blame him. “But no more abattoir metaphors, please.”

“Suppose it’s not really me, is it? Would you rather be a really stupid piece of firewood?” Jude’s grin and the playful tone in her voice suggested that she was amused enough by her own jokes for the three of them.

And then Jon just... plunged ahead, asking questions about names and dates and places that Martin by and large didn’t recognize; perhaps it had been foolish of him to assume that Jon’s research, Jon’s search for answers, would have stopped just because of a little thing like, oh, being on the run for murder. In hindsight, Martin knew Jon well enough that he really shouldn’t have been surprised that the man kept searching for information come hell or high water, kept seeking out danger even when he was already knee-deep in it.

Really, the surprising part was that Jude actually cooperated, more or less. Sure, she protested, she threatened, but she also answered Jon’s questions in the end.

(Some might have found it even more surprising that Martin managed to remain little more than an onlooker in the conversation, but not Martin himself; he was too used to it, too used to being overlooked and underestimated, and honestly, given the circumstances, he didn’t much mind not being the center of attention at the moment.)

“Yes, yes, I understand, you could easily kill me, I’m at your mercy...” Jon barely blinked an eye at Jude’s latest not-so-veiled threat, a reference to a statement Martin actually did remember and a man who ended up horrifically burned because of the events within it. Martin doubted anyone else could sound quite so bored when being threatened with agonizing pain and disfigurement by a woman who had already proven that she could easily make good on such threats if the mood struck her. “So... why haven’t you done it?”

“We’re in public.” Jude, for her part, seemed more amused with the situation than anything else, the grin on her face sneaking its way into her voice once again.

“Well-” Jon started to say, but Martin interrupted before Jon could finish the thought.

“That didn’t seem to stop you before, now, did it?” Martin didn’t bother hiding the aggravation in his voice--it was one thing to discuss weird happenings Martin wasn’t privy to without including him in the conversation, but ignoring the events of yesterday, ignoring the very relevant fact that Jude had burned him in a setting every bit as public as the current one, went a bit too far for his taste.

Jude tilted her head to one side, and both she and Jon looked Martin’s way for a long, silent moment; Martin couldn’t read the look in Jude’s eyes, but Jon’s contained something like guilt, or perhaps pity.

“I was a bit careless there, wasn’t I?” The upbeat tone of Jude’s voice was only slightly dampened, far from the apologetic tone her words might otherwise have signified. “I shouldn’t have given you time to scream. If I moved fast enough, I could-” Jude turned her gaze back at Jon as she continued to speak. “-reach through your chest like runny wax, and hold your heart while it cooked, and no one would even notice.”

“Right. R-right.” Jon finally sounded at least slightly affected by Jude’s threats rather than just bored of them; perhaps it was the graphic nature of this one that did the trick, or perhaps being reminded that Martin was now living proof that Jude’s threats weren’t empty ones was enough to make the seriousness of the situation start to sink in. “So why don’t you? Does your ‘god’ not want you to?”

“...mmm, hard to say. When I look at you, I feel that burning liquid pain, eager to flow out and purify your rotten carcass...” Jude glanced over at Martin, and her gaze looked almost conspiratorial, like she was expecting him to be in agreement, but all Martin felt upon hearing that was a bit sick. “But I feel that a lot.”

“Oh.” Jon looked a bit peaky, and if Martin had to guess, he felt at least as ill as Martin himself did upon hearing the graphic details of Jude’s desire to burn and destroy. “M-more or less than normal?”

“Hard to say when every nerve ending’s on fire. Hard to tell degrees.” Another glance Martin’s way, looking for something in him that wasn’t there. (Or wasn’t there yet, at least--Martin thought back to Prentiss’ statement, how she could recognize that something was wrong before becoming little more than a worm-filled husk. Maybe that’s where he was now, in the in-between period, no longer human but not yet monster.)

“Third degree, maybe?” Jon muttered, the words probably meant mostly for himself rather than for the benefit of his conversational partners, but Martin still snorted with amusement, though Jude looked more annoyed than amused (apparently in her mind, she was the only one allowed to make jokes in this conversation).

“Sorry, sorry, it was a...” Jon trailed off before finishing his sentence, and when he started speaking again it was to start on another train of thought. “I have a god too... right?”

“Is that another joke?” Jude’s wry grin was back, despite the fact that what Jon had said didn’t strike Martin as a joke, despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that any laughter in response to it would have to be at his expense.

“N-no, I... I’m new to this. Everyone keeps calling me ‘Archivist’, like I’m special, and that... that I serve the Eye. Trying to kill me for it.”

“Yes.” Jude leaned back a little in her chair.

“S-so... i-it’s like your ‘god’, right?”

“Oh please, your god is nothing!” Jude wrinkled her nose, apparently disgusted by the mere thought of comparing the two “gods” on equal terms. “The Eye, Beholding, Ceaseless Watcher...  whatever you call it, that’s all it does. It watches and knows, sitting bulbous and comfortable in the ignorance of infinite knowledge. I serve a reckoning, a surging tide of destruction and pain.”

Martin could feel his pulse racing as Jon breathed, “The Lightless Flame.”

“The Desolation. Blackened Earth. The destructive, agonizing heat of burning flesh and land scoured of life. The light, the comfort of fire stripped from it, leaving nothing but the terror of its approach. When it triumphs, it will leave The Eye a burned and shriveled husk that sees nothing but its own agony.”

Jon spoke up again, starting to get into yet another tiff with Jude by the sound of it, but Martin wasn’t really listening as the two went at it, too preoccupied by dissecting the information Jude had just given him about the “god” she worshipped, the power she had pulled him into serving by force.

Martin rather preferred the term Jon had offered up for it to those Jude had given; lightless flames could still provide warmth if one didn’t get too close, after all, while desolation, blackened earth... those phrases spoke only to landscapes with all the life in them stripped away, spaces emptied by force of any comfort that might once have been found there.

The mere thought of it made Martin’s stomach turn a little... and yet, part of him wanted to agree that their “god” was the better one, the stronger one, destined to reign superior, even if all it could cause was destruction and pain.

Martin hoped, distantly, that he hadn’t reached the point where all he could cause now was destruction and pain.

[welcometoclass1ahell]

Return The Favor: arachne!Sero x Female Reader

Welp this is my first try at writing something in forever. Last time I wrote I was like 16, so let’s see how this goes.. Good luck first post. Float around! Self note: Starts off too slow maybe and its a little jumbled? Might edit.

Prompt : Write about a character who finds an odd-looking egg in the forest. When they take it home, they never could have predicted what was inside it

Fantasy!Au

arachne!Sero (Jumping Spider) x Female Reader

Wandering into the deeper ends of the forest wasn’t exactly the plan, but when you saw a small dirt trail leading off the path curiosity stole all reasoning. It was just a simple walk you had planned afterall, what would a little detour hurt? 

It was peaceful for a while, the forest light and cheerful. Signs of life were everywhere and you could feel the breeze coming through the branches freely. You hadn't noticed there was anything wrong until the birds had stopped singing and the breeze was getting colder, harsher, louder. Looking to the sky, the cheery light had started to dim through the thicker branches. It wasn’t until you heard branches snapping behind you that you felt instinct and fear ripple through your body that had you feeling like coming here was a mistake. Taking off in a sprint, you hurried deeper down the dark and unused path in hope that a clearer path would show.

Inhaling sharp breathes, you had pushed yourself to run faster as you heard paws behind you stomping into the ground. You pleaded in your mind for whatever there was out there to give you mercy and to spare you from whoever or whatever was chasing you. Lucky you, someone had heard your pitiful prayers. The path was nearing an end as you saw a dark cave surrounded by toadstools and marshy looking grass. Hopping into the entrance of the cave, you felt as if you were going to collapse from the lack of air. You were afraid to wander into a cave but also from whatever was chasing you.

Which reminded you, why weren’t you being pounced on yet? Turning slowly, you eyed what had been chasing you with fear. A dark haired wolf was growling and snapping at you but it was odd for it to not come closer. It was then you noticed it wouldn’t dare enter the half circle of toadstools around the cave. Rather it sat, looking curiously onwards towards the entrance.

Looking back forward with dread, you had realized you were stuck between this cave and wolf and quite frankly you weren’t going to pick the large wolf who was ready to gobble you up as soon as you walked out the circle.

“No turning back now,” You whispered to no one but yourself to try and give yourself the courage to take a step. Moving forward hesitantly towards the entrance you peeked your head in and gave a small laugh of relief. It was just a small cave with nothing inside but for an odd looking stone in the middle of...webs? Walking over to center of the cave, you crouched down and took a strand of the webs between your fingers, rubbing the silky threads between your fingers before looking at the oval in front of you.

Biting your lip, you reached for the smooth object, pulling at the webs that seemed to be covering it to discover with a light gasp that it was not a stone! It was an egg! “Odd looking egg though,” you mumbled as you ran your hand over it. It was smooth, sure, but it had a spongy feeling to it as well. Curiosity had taken over again as you rolled the egg towards the light and took a closer inspection to it. It was white for the most part if it wasn’t for the black swirls all around it. The patterns were pretty, hypnotizing almost. Taking a look around you also noticed the wolf had finally gone and there wasn’t a sign of it coming back. Or anything really.

“Will anyone come back for you?” You asked to the egg before laughing lightly as no response was given. “What an odd predicament, what to do with you?” You mumbled as your hands rubbed over the egg once more, giving small warmth to whatever creature was inside. You wanted to take this egg with you but with the sheer size you wouldn’t know how to get it out of this forest. It was also getting dark real fast.

“Surely staying here in this cave wouldn’t be too dangerous. Once it’s morning I could go fetch some sort of wheelbarrow,” You mused not wanting to leave the egg out here alone. Deciding it would be safer to make way to home in the morning, you started to collect dry leaves and sticks, setting up a small campfire at the mouth of the cave, trusting that whatever had scared the wolf off would also intimidate other creatures from wandering too close. Sparking up a fire, you huddled close to the egg, trusting the environment around you once again too much as you drifted off to sleep.

______________

Waking up to something nudging you wasn’t the first thing you expected. The second thing you weren’t expecting was for coal like eyes staring back into your own gentle eyes. “W-What?” You gasped scrambling to sit up but as your hand reached back, it had squished into something gooey. A cold shiver went down your spine at the feeling and brought your hand to see a white substance coating your fingers. Scrunching up your nose in disgust you looked down to notice the egg cracked open.

Quickly realizing that whatever was in the egg was now out, you turned to look back at the creature in front of you. There was a boy, rather part of a boy blinking curiously yet caringly at you. Where his torso would have met a pair of legs, a black spider like body replaced that. White patterns swirled around his back and down to the tips of the spider legs which started to move, or jump towards you.

“H-Hey,” You breathed out as one of his hands had poked at your cheeks causing a nervous yet kind smile to form on your lips. “You remind me of a jumping spider,” You joked to him which only caused him to blink again before smiling back. Assuming he couldn’t understand you considering he just hatched, you let out a small sigh before standing up. This was a rather difficult problem you had on your hands. You sort of recognized what he was after a moment of thought and knew if you brought him to your village, the people wouldn’t be happy at this monster living among them. You had different views, nothing was truly a monster at first, at least that’s what you thought.

Deciding to give it a try, you could try and sneak your new little friend into your home which was thankfully not too far into the village. “Come on then,” You smiled down at the boy and patted your leg as a show to follow before walking out, the smell of ash hitting your nose as you walked past the now put out fire.

Walking through the forest felt different now with the spider boy at your heels, following you intently. Maybe, you thought, just maybe this little creature thought you were its mother which you felt endeered. You never managed to find yourself a nice partner to settle down with kids, not that you were seeking anyway. Here you were walking out the forest with a spiderling boy following you now and you didn't seem to mind that this is where fate had led you. Getting closer to the path of your village, you glanced down at the boy who smiled up at you whenever you looked at him,”You know, I should probably think of a name,” You mumbled at him as you lead him towards the back of the village, keeping an eye out for anyone who might accidentally see. At this moment you were happy for the silence the boy brought with him.

After a few minutes of pausing and going between buildings, you had managed to hide the small boy behind you and led him into your small house tucked away at the back, surrounded by a high wall of bushes to keep your privacy. Locking the door behind you, you smiled at the boy once more before going to your room to find a blanket of some sort. Maybe he would appreciate that for now considering you didn’t know what he liked. “Man, what am I doing,” You giggled looking at the spiderling who was now looking through your possessions in a curious manner. “I just...didn’t wanna leave an egg, all by itself. Especially not now that he is hatched…,” You reasoned with yourself. The more you thought into this the more questions came to mind of how you would even care for him. Feed him even!

“Meat, clearly, that's what you need huh?” You questioned as you grabbed a light fur blanket from your bed and draped it over his shoulders before making your way to your kitchen, looking through your supplies. Thankfully you had preserved some meat with salt from yesterday. Picking up your leftovers, you eyed the boy who had now followed you to the kitchen and eyed the meat you were holding, his lips coming open to reveal his top fangs in hunger, “Here you go,” You hummed placing it down onto the table in front of him curious as to what he would do.

Almost savagely, the boy had ripped at the raw meat, gnawing through the flesh as if it were nothing, sucking on the bones after. You had watched in silence, knowing fear is what you should have felt rather than content as if you had watched your own son eat a meal. “How about….Sero...would you like to be called Sero?” You questioned to which the newly named Sero looked up, holding still for a moment before repeating the new name.

“S...Sero,” He hissed out before squinting up to you, a huge smile etched across your face in proudness. Oh if only you knew how fast this boy learned and grew.

_______________

You had fed and taught Sero but hadn't been prepared to watch how fast he actually grew. Within two weeks of having him stay in your home, he had already become the size of a teenager, yet slightly bigger. His speech matched up to one as well. “You’re back late,” He greeted you one night which had halted you in your tracks after swinging your door shut. “Sero! I thought you’d be asleep by now! I had to make a run to the market, didn’t think it would take so long,” You said as you hauled the meat you were carrying to the counter. “The butcher was getting curious, he wanted to know why I was buying so much meat now, especially in two weeks,” You rambled on which had the spider-man grinning lazily at you.

“Then you should just let me hunt, Mom,” He teased, knowing being called a parental figure still put a halt to your steps. You weren’t used to it, but at the same time you weren’t used to having a small boy growing into almost adulthood within two weeks. “S’ not like I don’t anyway,” He added, which had you turning on your heels with worry real fast.

“Sero! I thought I told you to at least tell me if you were leaving! I don’t like keeping you here all the time, but if….if my people find out,” You began which had you biting your lip. You didn’t like worrying him, nor did you want to seem like you were threatening him, “What I mean is...humans...aren;t nice,” You rambled and hadn't noticed the shadow which had jumped behind you into the kitchen.

“Hey, relax!,” Sero smirked as he looked at the meat on the counter, startling you to turn around and watch him examine the meals you had brought. Taking his pick at the chicken to munch on first, he took a bite before looking back at you, ”I wouldn’t let anyone see me. I go while you’re sleeping. Nights are easy to navigate,” He reminded you as his coal colored eyes stared into your worried ones wanting to reassure you. You always worried for him, it was cute. Watching you tend to his needs, run around for errands, taking care of the house as well. It made his animalistic instincts want to take you as a mate, but he didn’t want to make a move. Not so soon.

Puffing your cheeks out into a huff, you rolled your eyes but relaxed anyway, taking some of the meat yourself as you started to cut it up wanting to cook a meal for yourself as well, “I’d just appreciate it if you would let me know, I’d feel better that way,” You advised as Sero had now taken on a book and settled on the floor by you as he ate his chicken,” Yeah, Yeah, I know,” He brushed off. 

Looking down at him, you started to feel a little bad. He sure did grow a lot. He barely fit in the house which you had planned to keep him safe. You couldn’t help but feel as if maybe him sneaking out was his release of feeling free, and spacious. “Hey, Sero,” You began and smiled as he hummed back acknowledging that he was listening. Staring back at the bits of meat you were cutting up you bit your lip to find the right words to say,” You know, maybe...maybe being outside is what you need anyway. This house sure is getting small for you, I wouldn’t want you feeling trapped,” You mumbled to which Sero looked up from his book quickly. 

There was a glint of slight anger in his eyes but as he gazed upon your expression, he saw that you were really worried, not trying to be rid of him. “Ah, well it is getting cramped,” He agreed and stood up, disposing of the chicken bones into the basket you had to collect them. You liked using them to make bone meal for your plants outside. “I could set back up in the cave you found me in, but you’d have to visit me,” Sero offered up a deal to which you sweetly smiled back at him, “And why wouldn't I not visit you?” You questioned back which was all you needed to say to have him grinning back.

It had only been a few more days before Sero had bid his goodbyes for now to go make himself at home in the cave you had found him in. Sadly for you, your house never seemed more emptier. It only had been two weeks with the fast growing spiderling, but it was enjoyable to watch the creature grow into such a handsome one. You had kept with your agreement and visited him whenever you could and as the days went flying by, you both were as inseparable as the day you had met. Before you knew it, it had been months since you had seen him as hatchling. Now? You saw a huge man with a strong body and eight swift jumping legs to go with them. He towered over you as he greeted you at the front of the cave with a cheeky grin as always,” You're late,” He would say staring down at you to which you would only smile in return,”Nosy neighbors,” you bantered back.

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t attractive to you. You had to keep reminding yourself that though he towered over you, he was still younger. Sero could tell that's what you thought too. He may have been almost a year old, but his anatomy and mental anatomy was so much different to humans. He was a grown man now! Matured way older than his little companion. It annoyed him to think that you would still think of him of anything but a man. A mate even.  “(Y/N)” He drawled out as he watched you make himself comfortable in his webs, “I’ve been thinking,” He started approaching you, almost trapping you with his legs on his web,” I’ve met with my own kind here and there now, I’ve learned a lot. You know i'm fully grown now, yeah?” He hummed watching as you looked up with those kind eyes,”Of course, and I’m happy you are Sero! You grew up really fast!” You replied light heartedly which kept Sero in a good mood.

“Yeah, but you know we also would have chosen a mate by now,'' He added, which had you stiffen up right, looking worriedly at him,”Really?! Have I been in the way? I’m sorry Sero!” You immediately apologized causing the black haired male to laugh, a few of his eight limbs coming up to hug his own spider like body as well,

“No! No! You could never be in the way (Y/N), actually quite the opposite,” He said in a chilled manner and jumped up onto the cave ceiling to hang down at you as he started to web up the place more, hanging down right in front of you till he was mere inches from your face causing a light pink dust to settle across your cheeks to which he enjoyed.

“What do you mean?” You asked in a hushed tone as he grinned wider, a hand coming down to cup your right cheek, rubbing a thumb across the soft flesh,” I was hoping you’d be my mate! You’d be perfect for me,” He cooed out, a dark look making its way to his eyes but never his smile. He was hoping you wouldn’t reject him as he read your face. It was flushing all sorts of red for him which made him smile even wider.

“I-....Sero,” You started and bit your lip as you thought hard, your nose scrunching up in thought, a feature he loved. “I’m older than you,” You protested, “And a human!” You reasoned. You would love to be his mate deep down, but you had morals and questions and so much thinking to do.

“(Y/N)...I’m older than you at this point, my species do happen to grow up a lot faster,” Sero chuckled and watched you squirm in his web as you tried to find the right words to say,” Just stay here with me, let me take care of you like you took care of me,” He whispered and leaned in closer to leave a small kiss on your nose,” I’ll take good care of you, you have nothing else to look forward to anyway,” He pointed out and as you took a deep breathe you didn’t see a lie in his words.

Once again curiosity took hold as you looked at the new path before you. Reaching up you took a hold of his cheeks and smiled back, hypnotized again by the same swirls his eyes held compared to the egg you found in the very same cave, “Okay...I’ll be your mate,” you answered back which had Sero’s heart soaring high. He’d now get a chance to repay you for all of your hard work.

[mldrgrl]

The First New Year

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: @kateyes224 wanted an early season New Year’s Eve fic.  And you can’t get earlier than post-The Pilot.

If she hadn’t promised she would show up, she would have just stayed home.  Parties in general were never her thing and New Year’s Eve was the worst of them.  Inevitably, revelry would be taken too far and she wasn’t looking forward to a house full of inebriated strangers.  She had promised though, and so she would have to endure or break her word.

Knocking was useless and even the doorbell couldn’t be heard over the music and laughter from inside the house.  Cautiously, Scully opened the unlocked door to Ellen’s foyer and squeezed past a cluster of men sipping alcohol from plastic cups and arguing about upcoming Superbowl playoffs.  She snaked her way down the hall, past flanks of people; men in sweater vests and party hats, women in tight dresses and tiaras announcing HAPPY NEW YEAR and 1993 in glitter and gold.  She adjusted the folds of her trench coat a little tighter, feeling more out of place in her black turtleneck and wool trousers than when she first walked in.

Hoping to find Ellen, the kitchen was the first place she checked.  All she found there was more people, cases of wine and beer, and trays of assorted hors d'oeuvres that could feed an army.  Apparently all of Cathedral Heights was invited to tonight’s party.

Scully located Gene, Ellen’s husband, before she found Ellen.  He was holding court by the fireplace and lifted a glass in her direction when he saw her and waved her over.  Even though Gene was her best friend’s husband, she wasn’t exactly well-acquainted with him.  He was a corporate attorney, dedicated to his career and had little free time.  He made Ellen happy though, and that was all that mattered.

“Dana,” he said, drawing her in and kissing her lightly on the cheek.  “Good to see you.  This is Steve Wentworth and Tripp Lightfoot.  Steve just made partner this year.”

“Congratulations,” she said, forcing a smile.

“But, you haven’t even taken your coat off yet.”

“I just got here.”

“Dana and Ellen go back to Annapolis,” he explained.  “Isn’t that right?  You grew up on the same base?  Their father’s were Navy.”

“That’s right.”  She nodded in agreement and searched the room.  

“My Grandad went to West Point,” Tripp or Steve said.  She wasn’t sure which was which.

“Sorry, I just need to use the ladies room and then...”

“Past the kitchen.”

“Yes.”  She forced another smile and drifted away.  

Finally, she located Ellen at the back of the house in the enclosed porch at the back of the house.  Her friend and another woman were chatting and hanging coats on portable racks that were set up for the occasion.

“Dana!” Ellen cried, rushing over to hug her friend.  “Oh, I’m so glad you came.  I know you hate these things.  Linda, come and meet my oldest friend.”

“Good to meet you,” Linda said.  “El, I’m just going to use the phone in the den and check in with the babysitter.”

“Oh of course, of course.  Go in through the side, we locked the French doors to keep people from wandering in.”  Ellen took both of Dana’s hands and squeezed them.  “It is so good to see you.  It’s been too long.”

“I know.”

“Oh, but let me take your coat.  So how are you?  How’s the teaching going?”

Scully reluctantly shed her trench coat into Ellen’s waiting hands.  “Teaching is good,” she said.  “I’ve had a new assignment though.  Sort of.  On an as needed basis.  Field work.”

“Field work, that’s exciting.”

“It is, actually.”

Ellen hung Scully’s coat up on the rack with the others.  “Where’s Ethan?”

“Oh.”  Scully took a breath and then shook her head.  “Ethan isn’t...we broke up.”

“Oh, Dana.”  Ellen made a noise of dismay and her mouth drooped into a frown.  “What happened?”

“Nothing really happened, we just...didn’t really have time for each other anymore.”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of eligible bachelors here tonight, though I don’t even know half of them.  Mostly colleagues of Gene.”

“How’s Trent?” Scully was eager to change the subject from eligible bachelors.

“At Gene’s parents tonight, thankfully.  They got him one of those Gameboy things for Christmas and I honestly don’t know if it’s a godsend or an instrument of evil. It’s kept him out of my hair at times, but just try to take it out of his hands!”

“Mm.”  Scully nodded, but the struggles of parenting were foreign to her.  

“He loved those cars you got him though!  Your mom brought them to midnight mass, I hope she told you.”

“I know, I was sorry I couldn’t get them to you myself, it’s been a little hectic, but I’m glad he liked them.  My...partner suggested them.”

“Partner?  Part of the new assignment?”

“In a way.  I mean, I guess I don’t really know what to call him yet.”

“Him!  Is he attractive?”

Scully opened her mouth slightly and then paused.  Mulder was attractive, but she’d tried not to dwell on it or think too much about it.  But, he dressed well, he was always clean cut and shaven, and he smelled incredible.  He was also roguishly charming, which was a bad sign.  And given her track record with Daniel and Jack, she had made a vow never to find anyone she worked with attractive ever again.

“Yeah,” she finally said.  “I guess he’s...cute.”

“Cute is good.  Tell me more ab-“

“Ellen!” Gene called out to his wife and then he appeared around the door, leaning into the frame from the other side of the wall.  “Honey, sorry to interrupt.  Where’s the case of Coke?  I thought we left it in the fridge in the garage and I can’t find it.”

“Let me check.”  Ellen widened her eyes in feigned panic at Scully and smiled.  “Hostess duties call.  I want to know more about this cute partner of yours though.”

“I mean, there’s nothing really…”  Scully trailed off.  Ellen was distracted and already out the door.

With a sigh, Scully looked around the empty room.  It was just her and a hundred coats.  She opened up the small purse that was strapped across her chest and rested at her hip.  She’d only brought the essentials with her; her ID, her phone, her debit card, and a tube of lipstick in a small case.  She took the lipstick out and checked her face in the small mirror inside the case.  There was a smudge of mascara at the corner of her eye which she fixed with a fingertip and then she closed the case and put it back in her purse.

Steeling herself, Scully headed back to the kitchen and found herself a glass of wine to sip.  She wandered the first floor looking for someone, anyone she might know, but didn’t recognize anybody.  She didn’t know how to insert herself into conversations without being awkward and so she remained a wallflower, quietly observing from a corner.

“It’s Dana, right?”  Tripp or Steve from earlier sauntered up to her.

“Yes.”

“Tripp.  We met earlier.”

“Right.  You work with Gene.”

“I do.  Gene said you were in the FBI.  That’s got to be pretty exciting, even for a secretary.”

“I’m not a secretary.”

“Oh, I don’t mean you are.  I just mean, it’s the FBI.  Covert ops and all that.  Secret intel.  Everyone from the janitor to the head honcho probably has things they have to keep hush hush.”

“I see.”  Scully took a sip of her wine and tried not to look disengaged.

“So what do you do there?”

“I’m a Special Agent.”

Tripp whistled low.  “What does that mean exactly?  You’re a spy?”

“It means I’m licensed to carry a weapon and I’m trained to use it.”  She couldn’t help herself at being a little sarcastic, but it came out a little more flirtatious than she would’ve liked.

“I guess I should be on my best behavior, then.”

“Luckily, I’m off duty tonight.”

“That is lucky.”

Her phone rang in her purse just then and she took it out and looked at the screen.  She didn’t recognize the number, but she answered anyway.  Even if it was a wrong number, it was an opportunity to extricate herself from her current conversation and she wanted to snatch it up.  She raised an apologetic finger at Tripp and then turned away, covering her ear with the side of her wine glass to block out the noise of the room.

“Scully,” she said.

“Oh hey, Scully, I didn’t actually think you’d answer.”

“Mulder?”

“Guilty.”

“Is something wrong?  Is it a case?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at...a friend’s party.”

“I hate parties.”

She took a glance at Tripp and saw him sipping his beer and pondering the windows like he was pretending not to be interested in her conversation.  “Yes,” she answered.  “You and me both.”

“But, you’re at one?”

“Well…”

“Let me guess, you promised that friend you’d come and you’d rather be miserable than break a promise.”

She closed her eyes and her cheeks burned a little in embarrassment.  “Something like that, yes.”

“Well, I don’t want to bug you, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“I got your Christmas card.”

“My...Mulder, I sent that weeks ago.”

“Sometimes I get a little distracted and forget to open my mail.”

She laughed.  “And you chose 11 o’clock on New Year’s Eve to catch up?”

“I wasn’t doing anything else, so…”

“Well, you’re welcome.”

“Have a happy New Year, Scully.  I’ll let you get back to your party.  It sounds like...a party.”

“You have a happy New Year too, Mulder.”  She hung up the call and then stared at the phone in her hand for a few moments.

“Nothing urgent, I hope,” Tripp said, mildly.  “Our national security isn’t at risk, is it?”

“It could be.  I don’t work in that department.”

“So what department do you work in?”

“Pathology, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“I’m sorry, could you excuse me?  I just realized I need to make another call.”

“Sure.”

Before she could talk herself out of what she was about to do, Scully hurried back to the sun porch to retrieve her coat.  Along the way, she dropped her half-empty wine glass off on a tray of other used glasses.  She found her trench coat fairly easily and swiped one of the many bottles of champagne off the counter in the kitchen, tucking it under her arm as she tied her jacket closed and slipped unnoticed out the door.

Traffic was light, but it still took almost forty minutes to get to Mulder’s apartment.  She had to stop a few times to consult her map and make sure she was making the right turns.  His block was tree-lined and quiet.  The apartment building was brick and stately.  A couple that were making their way out the front door let her in before she needed to buzz and she took the elevator to the fourth floor to search for number 42.  When she found it, she knocked lightly and then stepped back to wait.

“You’re not the pizza guy,” Mulder said when he opened his door.  He was barefoot, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.  It was the most casual she’d seen him aside from his running clothes.

“Afraid not.”  She held up the bottle of champagne though and he took it from her by the neck.

“Won’t this be missed at the party?  Won’t you be missed as well?”

“Me and the champagne will go unnoticed.  And I figured, I kept my promise by showing up.  I never agreed to stay until midnight.”

“I like your logic.  Come in?”

For the first time, Scully stepped into Mulder’s apartment and took it all in.  It was dark and mismatched, but it still felt cozy.  It wasn’t quite the bachelor pad she was expecting, but she’d yet to see the kitchen or bathroom so she should probably reserve judgment.

“I was just watching Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve,” he said.

“Anything good?”

“Not really.  Should I pour this champagne now, or should we wait?”

Scully looked at her watch.  It was ten minutes to midnight.  “Pour it now,” she said.

“Sit down.  Make yourself at home.”

She took her coat off and hung it on the rack by the door.  Despite Mulder’s casual attire, she didn’t feel out of place here like she did at the party.  She unzipped her boots and took those off too.  Her socked feet slid precariously across his wood floor.  His couch was made of soft leather and she sank down into it.  A fish tank bubbled quietly next to her and she gazed at the tiny fish darting back and forth inside.

“Sorry I don’t have anything more formal,” Mulder said, coming into the room with two coffee mugs balanced in one hand and the champagne bottle in the other.  “I don’t entertain all that often.”

Scully chuckled as he handed her the mug with Marvin the Martian on the side and sat beside her.  The one he kept in his hand had the New York Knick’s logo on it.  He poured the champagne into her cup first and then his and she waited until he’d put the bottle down to clink their mugs together.

“Cheers,” he said.

“Cheers.”

They both took a sip.  Mulder licked his lips and then nodded.  “It’s good,” he said.

“I should tell you my godson loved the Hot Wheels you told me about.”

“I did?”  Mulder looked at her blankly and tilted his head in question.

“It’s okay, it was an offhand remark.  About hot toys of the season. I remembered it when I was shopping for him and...well, you should get the credit for it.”

“Oh.  How old is your godson?”

“Seven.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the prime target for the Hot Wheels market.”

Scully turned her attention to the TV and The Village People singing YMCA in low volume, interspersed with people screaming and dancing, waving noisemakers and blowing horns.  

“I hope you didn’t leave your party because of me,” Mulder said, suddenly.

“No, I left the party because of me,” she answered, after thinking it over for a few moments.

“Why’d you show up here?”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t really want to be at that party, but I also didn’t really want to be at home either.  And then you called and…”

“I’m a step above being alone.”  His chuckle echoed into his mug before he took another sip of champagne.

“It wasn’t that.  I don’t know what it was, actually, but it wasn’t that.”

They were both quiet again and Dick Clark announced a commercial break before the final countdown.  Scully looked at her watch again.  Four minutes to go.  Time seemed to fly by so quickly.

“Do you ever make resolutions?” she asked.

“Not really.  Do you?”

“Sometimes.  I can’t really think of anything this year, though.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.  Maybe it means you’re living the life you want to live.”

“Hm.”  She thought about that all through the commercial break.  She barely had enough time for friends or family this year, let alone a relationship.  Her work was both exhilarating and fulfilling, but was that enough?  She considered herself to be content and happy, but would she always feel that way?  Should she be making time for other people now before it was too late?

“Hey,” Mulder said, bumping her shoulder with his.  “Eight, seven, you’re missing it, four, three, two, one.  Happy new year!”

Scully snapped out of her reverie and joined him at number three.  They tapped their mugs together again and took longer sips of champagne as Auld Lang Syne began to play on TV.  The screen was filled with confetti and celebration.

“Scully?” Mulder said.

“Yeah?”

He leaned closer to her, hesitated for a second, and then placed a quick kiss on her cheek.  “Happy new year,” he said.

She stared down at his knees for a few moments and then reached up to touch the spot on her cheek where his lips had been.  “We can never be together,” she said.

“What?”

“I just...I should tell you that I can never date a coworker again, so…”

“Again?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, but…”

“I didn’t mean to give you a false impression, or...or…”

“I didn’t get any impression.”

“So that we’re clear.”

“Maybe it was me that-”

There was a knock on Mulder’s door that startled them both.  He cringed and then set his mug on the coffee table and pushed himself up from the couch.  She downed the rest of her champagne and pressed the back of her hand to her flaming cheeks, one at a time.

“You like sausage and pepperoni?” he asked, returning to the room with a pizza box in hand.

“I should probably…”

“I like working with you, Scully.  I just want to throw that out there because I think we both misread something tonight and...you’re right.  We can never be together because I like working with you too much.”

“Oh.”

“It was just a friendly kiss on the cheek is all.”

“You just want to be friends?”

“I kind of thought we already were.  Sort of.”

“We can be friends.”

“Okay.”  Mulder sat down again and made room on his coffee table for the pizza box.  “Well, would you like to share this pizza with me, as a friend?”

“I think I will take you up on that offer, yes.”

“In that case, I should get some plates.”

“Mulder.”  She touched his arm, keeping him in place next to her.  After a brief pause, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, trying not to think about how warm his skin felt or let her eyes droop as she breathed him in.  She could not be attracted to her partner, not now, not ever.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Happy new year?”

He smiled, but she noticed that his eyes shifted down to her mouth and then back up again.  “So, friends?” he said.

“And partners.”

“That depends on how good of a spy you are.”

“Mulder, I’m not…”

He raised his brows at her and she lowered her eyes.

“I like working with you too,” she said.  “With you.  Not against you.  Not for any other reason than...the cases are interesting.  The work is interesting.  You’re…”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…”  Mulder picked up his mug, but noticed she was empty and poured more champagne into hers.  “To 1993,” he said, raising his cup.

“To 1993.”

They tapped their mismatched mugs together and then Mulder got up to get the plates.

The End

[jemelle]

these are ties that bind (1/8)

you can also find this story on ao3!

fandom: criminal minds

rating: g

(chapter) word count: 1,976

summary: emily and hotch must pretend to be in a long-term relationship in order to foster carrie. shenanigans and serious conversations alike ensue.

masterlist

one.

Emily Prentiss stood in front of the hotel door, hand raised, wondering if she was making the biggest mistake of her life. All her self-preservation instincts, built up from a lifetime of looking over her shoulder, told her it would be better for all parties if she just walked away. But a small voice in the back of her head disagreed. There is someone who needs you, it said. Someone who you are not too late to save. That voice had gotten her into this situation, and it was determined to see it through.

She knocked once, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent hallway. When Hotch opened the door, he looked as if he rather expected to see someone else. It was late, but Reid and Morgan were still off flirting with women at a club somewhere. Or, probably more likely, Morgan was flirting while Reid sat alone at the bar. Emily found she could never begrudge either of them the comfort of a post-case routine, no matter how strange.

Hotch was wearing his pajamas, which consisted of plain grey sweatpants and a well-worn GW Law shirt. His outfit had the unsettling effect of reminding Emily that she and him were, in fact, almost the same age. He often seemed much more world-weary than his thirty-some years suggested, although she supposed it was her who had actually seen more of the world. He was holding a book in one hand and seemed poised to lecture Reid for forgetting his keycard again. Upon seeing Emily, the expression on his face slid from irritation into confusion.

“Prentiss?” he asked. The “what do you want?” went unsaid.

“Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about something.” Hotch opened the door wider and motioned her inside. He sat down on one of the beds while Emily leaned uncomfortably on the desk and surveyed the room. What she assumed was Hotch’s side of the room was nothing short of meticulous, although Spencer, to his credit, had managed to keep his chaos contained to a two by four area at the foot of his bed.

Acutely aware of the importance of her next few sentences, she began. “Carrie Ortiz, the girl from the case, has an aunt and uncle in Phoenix, but they’re not able to care for her. She doesn’t have anyone else and especially after seeing what the foster system can do to kids, I don’t know if…” No, this wasn’t the way to do it. She was dancing around her point and both she and Hotch knew it. Time to regroup. 

“Carrie came to me and asked if I would be willing to take her in for the time being.” Emily’s knee-jerk reaction had been no, but remembering what JJ told her earlier had given her pause. She had never been one of those children who dream of becoming a parent, not until it was no longer a dream. In the ensuing fallout, she became even more convinced that parenting was not for her. But Carrie wasn’t a helpless child. She was a young woman who had experienced a traumatic event and was voluntarily asking Emily to become her guardian. And so Emily found herself unable to say no.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I would have to think about it but that I didn’t have the power to make that decision myself.” It was the truth. Emily knew that Hotch didn’t tolerate lying, especially not to victims. To give false hope to someone whose family had just been ripped away would be unspeakably cruel.

“Prentiss, with all due respect, I’m not sure why we’re having this conversation. I know you don’t need to be reminded of the dangers of our job, but I firmly believe that you will make the right decision.” Truthfully, it had taken Emily several hours to fully process Carrie’s request and several more before she could think rationally enough to decide. But she had made up her mind. If only that made it a reality.

Emily took a deep breath. For all the courage it had taken to get this far, the hardest part had yet to come. “I talked to Carrie’s social worker and she said that in the absence of family, they usually try to place in-area, but that given Carrie’s explicit request, she might be able to make an exception. However…” She trailed off. Maybe this was a mistake. It wasn’t too late to back out.

“However?” Hotch prompted. His tone was steady, and Emily forced herself to make eye contact. His face had smoothed itself into a neutral expression, which Emily took as a positive sign as she gathered her resolve.

“They don’t place children with single parents. No exceptions.” And definitely not gay couples, she mentally amended.

“I see,” he said. His face wrinkled in a way that told Emily he hadn’t quite figured out where she was going. “That’s a pity. Although, that still doesn’t solve the mystery of why you’re in my hotel room. I may be your boss, but even I don’t have sway over the foster care system of Denver.”

“Well… I sort of told Carrie’s caseworker that I would have to consult my husband.” She had run out of the room immediately after, wondering what on earth had just possessed her. She was a lesbian, for God's sake! There was no husband in her future. What scared her even more was realizing that she didn’t regret it. She wanted this for Carrie (and for herself, if she was being honest) and she was willing to do whatever it took, even if it meant hatching a hare-brained scheme like the one she currently found herself ensnared in.

Hotch raised his eyebrows at her. She suspected the pieces were starting to come together for him. “And you’re here to ask me to marry you?” 

He was chuckling now, almost in disbelief. Although she half-expected to become defensive, Emily instead found herself wanting to crack a grin at the pure absurdity of the situation.

“Well, given my lack of a personal life, it was one of our coworkers or a random man on the street.” The last time she had been on a date was months ago. Liv had been nice, but Emily could tell she wanted more than a casual relationship. So that particular alley was a bust, notwithstanding the fact that her gender preference would disqualify any actual partner.

“Why me?” Hotch asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. His tone turned serious again. “I don’t exactly have the best track record with parenthood.” 

His gaze was fixed at a blank spot on the wall above her head, and Emily imagined he was mentally scrolling through his worst hits as a constantly-working husband and father.

“Hotch, you’re the only man on this team with any parenting expertise.” Upon giving the decision some thought, Emily had realized that not only was Hotch the best choice, he was the only choice. She voiced her thought process to reassure him. “Morgan is the perpetual bachelor, Reid would eat cereal for every meal if we let him, and Rossi is old enough to be my father.”

“While I’m certainly flattered to have been picked by process of elimination, that doesn’t make this a good idea.” He was right. In fact, it was a bad idea for more reasons than Emily could count, chiefly that she and Hotch had only recently reached any sort of lasting truce; any person who wasn’t convinced of the validity of their relationship could turn them in and ruin the whole scheme.

“Sir, I recognize the ridiculousness of the situation, and if you say no I will never mention this conversation again, but I really believe that we have the chance to make someone’s life better. Our job is about always making wrong things right, giving people peace, but never more than that. Never making a good thing on its own.” Hotch looked as surprised as Emily felt at her impassioned speech. At some point, she had begun gesticulating, movements becoming more frantic as the volume of her voice rose. 

“We’ve seen how the foster system changes kids,” she continued, suddenly feeling bold. “I don’t need Reid to quote statistics to know it’s usually not for the better. Carrie has so much potential and I don’t want to think her hopes were dashed because of a choice I made.” I see myself in her, Emily didn’t say. Young and hopeful and ready to take on the world.

They sat in silence as Hotch mulled her words over. Emily felt confident that no matter his decision, she had given it her all. It felt unnerving to have to place a decision this important in the hands of a man she had betrayed, but Emily knew he would put aside any feelings, positive or negative, that he might have for her. It was one of the things she admired most about Hotch; if he respected you, he valued your contributions, whether you were certified genius Spencer Reid or a local law enforcement officer assisting the team. With that conviction in mind, Emily did her best to steel herself for his decision as Hotch began to speak. 

“Let’s pretend I said yes. What are we going to tell the team, not to mention Jack and my… Haley?” Emily pretended to ignore the way he choked on Haley’s name. It was the least she owed him. Still, she felt hope bubbling in her chest at the realization that he was actually considering it.

“I think we should tell the team as little as possible. I don’t doubt that they’ll figure out something is different, but we both know Reid and Garcia can’t lie to save their lives. It’ll be better to keep them in the dark for as long as possible.” Hotch nodded and Emily felt some of the tension leave her body. “As for Jack and Haley, you know them best, so I’ll defer to you.”

“We’ll have to convince them we’re really in a relationship,” he responded without pause. “Haley and I currently have equal custody, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

“Deal.” She briefly fought the ridiculous urge to offer him a handshake. “Although I am warning you that I’m not sure how long this arrangement will have to last.”

“Well, as you pointed out, I’m not exactly a youthful bachelor.” True to his words, Emily’s brain faltered when asked to conjure up an image of Hotch as a twenty-something playboy. He was, she thought, possibly the most monogamous man she had ever met. If he was as serious in his acquiescence to her plan as he was in every other endeavor, they would be an excellent team.

“You’re really sure?” She had hoped for this, of course, but now it hardly seemed real. 

Hotch’s voice was warm. “Emily, speaking as a parent, every child deserves someone who is as passionate about them as you clearly are about Carrie. If I have the chance to make someone's life better and it doesn’t harm me or my family or the team in any way, then I don’t see how I could say no.”

“Thank you, sir. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Emily rarely cried, preferring to keep her rare bouts of melancholia and euphoria within the confines of her apartment, but she could feel herself tearing up, though she tried her best to conceal it. “We should be able to sign the necessary paperwork in the morning.”

“Of course,” he said. Emily stood and turned to leave the room, pausing in the door frame as she heard his voice again, colored by the return of his smile. “And Prentiss, if we’re going to pull this off, you probably shouldn’t call me sir.

[galaxy-parchment]

Help! My daughter’s a Werewolf!

1 : 2 (you are here) : 3 (coming soon)

I’m back with another chapter! Thank you to everyone that liked this AU. I promise I’ve made progress on the Vampire AU but my output is going to be a little slower from now on since I’ve started Uni.

“Wait here while I go speak with my business partner,” Jekyll told Nora, sitting her down on a bench.

“Was that man Robert? Mum says you two were a fond look away from having a stitch,” Nora said all-too-casually. Jekyll couldn’t stop the deep red blossoming on his face.

“I’m sure your mother says a lot of things she shouldn’t,” he said as he turned and walked away.

Nora looked around at the room, allowing her thoughts to fully swirl at her situation. Not only had she actually met her father, but he was apparently some rich Londoner that was going to take her in for a whole week! He had some conditions, sure, but this was so much more than she could have ever hoped for. Was she dreaming? Was this going to blow up in her face? This felt far too easy, surely something would go wrong.

As she spotted a few heads peek out from the upper level and some curious grins visible on most of them, Nora’s breath hitched in fear that this may be one of the things to go wrong. She intently stared at her own lap, hoping to avoid having to spare them any attention. Her efforts proved fruitless as a steady stream of strange, observant men and women made their way down to the ground level, some of them trying to be casual and others not bothering to do so.

Before Nora knew it, she was surrounded by a swarm of people dressed strangely. Big dresses like some of the ones she’d seen outside on her way here and clothes that looked like some of the ones that her mother had kept for he from her past visitors, but they had other things too. Big goggles that were pushed up onto their forehead, glasses obscuring some people’s eyes, masks and accessories covering their faces, some carrying various odd objects made of metal and glass and most of them had strange and awful smells to them.

She was so overwhelmed by how many people were suddenly around her, some less shy than others, she almost didn’t catch the question thrown at her by a woman in a greek dress with a pair of goggles nestled into her short black hair.

“Are you actually Jekyll’s kid?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes? That’s what I’ve been told anyway…”

A man with obnoxiously large sideburns barked out a laugh, “I didn’t think he could be that adventurous!”

A younger man with red hair poked his head out from over the sideburn man’s shoulder, “Well they said she’s fourteen right? He had to have been a teenager right?”

“Mum says he was 19 at the time.”

“Jekyll’s 35? I thought he was older!” Nora was starting to lose track of how many people had joined not the conversation.

“No, he’s just a prude”

“You sure? He does spend a lot of time with Hyde”

“As if Jekyll would be sleeping with Hyde, he looks twice his age!”

“Do you know how many rich blokes have guys even younger than him to entertain them? Wouldn't surprise me.”

Before she knew it, Nora had been surrounded by people discussing the sex life of her father who she had just met and they didn’t seem to care about the fact that she was there. For every face she took note of, two more joined in the chatter as well. It was so overwhelming, she had to get out of here. She stood up and shuffled around the outside of the crowd, having a great deal of trouble doing so.

A hand suddenly gripped her arm. It was a woman with brown hair and a mole on her cheek, the one that was with her father before he took her to his office. She was about to yank her arm away before the woman spoke.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere quiet, poor thing,” she didn’t see a reason to resist. She allowed her new friend to take her to a small room on the other end of the room, her escape going unnoticed by the crowd which was now bustling with excited gossip about her father.

-

Lanyon was furious to say the least.

Jekyll had left Nora to wait outside to spare her the full force of what he expected to be a daunting encounter, but he wasn’t so lucky.

“Good lord, Henry! I suspected that maybe you had gone back to see her, but you fathered her child? You complained to Morcant about keeping that girl from you but-“

“Her name is Nora-”

“i don’t give a rat’s ass if her name is Queen Victoria! You kept the fact that you’d gone back to sleep with that woman and you didn’t bother to mention it to me all of this time and I had to sit back and let you keep it from me. For the record I suspected that you went back but I just figured that maybe my best friend would tell me something like that!” Lanyon was yelling at the top of his lungs at this stage and had no qualms about announcing his grievances to however much of the world could hear him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t say anything at first because you didn’t like her. It started out as a few months, then a year and suddenly it was an entire decade of keeping it from you and I thought you’d react, well… like this,” he sat down in his chair and slumped into himself, “I suppose I was right about that,” he mumbled, avoiding Lanyon’s eyes. He didn’t deserve the pity he could feel radiating off of the other man at that last comment.

“Henry, I’ll help you in whatever way I can but promise me that this is the last big secret you’ve been keeping from me. Please.”

Jekyll stared into the floor with an intense conviction as he lied, “It is.”

Jekyll met his eyes and was relieved if ashamed to find that Lanyon’s face had a warm smile on it that he didn’t at all deserve.

“Ooooh, more blatant lying to Dear Doctor Lanyon! How fun!” Hyde’s voice cackled as his image floated behind Lanyon, leaving a wispy trail of green smoke in his wake, “I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he eventually finds out about me!”

“Are you okay, Henry? You look fit to fall right off that chair.”

“Just fine, just… need to process everything…”

“I’ll say. I can’t imagine finding out about a bastard chid from a 15 year old fling, so I would be far more concerned if you were taking this extremely well,” he half-sat on the desk, eyes idly wandering about the room, “have you dealt with the situation?”

“Dealt with it?”

“Are they gone now?” Lanyon asked, trying not to let Jekyll dance around the details.

“Morcant is gone but Nora is staying for what I’m hoping won’t be more than a week.”

“Why on earth would you-,” he stopped and recomposed himself, “It’s alright, we’ll work around it. I can handle a little bit of extra paperwork if that works.”

“No, Robert, you don’t need to do that.”

“I insist, which I rarely do when it comes to doing extra work so be grateful,” he said with a sly grin, “Now go organise where she’ll be staying, as if we needed the extra expenses,” he muttered at the end, “and I’ll sign off all of these documents,” he offered, gesturing to the piles of paper sitting in front of Jekyll.

Jekyll looked up at him, swept with gratitude and relief, “Thank you, Robert, I really appreciate how kind and understanding you’ve always been, I-“

Lanyon got up and dragged Jekyll out of his chair and towards the door abruptly, “Enough, Henry, just go already,” he huffed, slamming the door shut behind a very flustered Jekyll. He ought to go get Nora about now anyway.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

ASoUE REWRITE - Season 1; The Miserable Mill - Part i.i

⇢ Klaus x Reader⇠

*not my gif*

    "Get a job, hitchhikers!" The man called, pulling his truck away.

    The Baudelaire children had managed to escape the clutches of Count Olaf once again. While Mr. Poe, the man responsible for putting them in dangerous situations on multiple occasions was distracted with Count Olaf, the children noticed a pickup truck that bore the name LUCKY SMELLS LUMBERMILL. The three Baudelaires were able to slip away and climb into the truck bed unnoticed and were carried off into the woods as stowaways. But of course, eventually, the driver had spotted Violet and proceeded to kick the children out, leaving them to wander the woods.   

After what felt like hours, the children found themselves at the edge of a familiar-looking scene. It was the grey and ashy remains of what was once a thriving town.

    "It looks like there was a fire. Everything's gone." Klaus said somberly as him and his sisters trudged through the ashy remains of the town.

    Ahead of them, a long stretching fence with the words LUCKY SMELLS was printed in large letters across. Behind it stood the towering structure of an old factory building.

    "Not everything." Violet countered, looking at the approaching lumber mill

    "Lucky Smells Lumbermill," Klaus said.

    "Maybe this is where all the clues lead us. The secret safe and the strange photographs at Aunt Josephine's." Suggested Violet.

    "The secret message and the statue lady at Uncle Monty's" Said Klaus, referring to the mysterious woman who was disguised in the middle of Montgomery Montgomery's maze who had helped them in their desperate time of need.

    "Eebee," Sunny said, which meant something like "Count Olaf. He's just strange."

    Violet looked at her sister and gave a look saying she agreed. Her lips pressed into a firm line.

    "The only thing standing between us and all our parents' secrets..." Violet trailed off, as the three came to a stop in front of the enormous wooden wall.

    "is an enormous wooden wall." Klaus finished. "What if we don't like what we find? Knowing can be a terrible thing."

    "But not knowing, isn't that worse?" His older sister countered.

    Klaus sighed, looking back at the enormous wall, knowing his sister was right. Meanwhile, Violet, who had been carrying the youngest Baudelaire sibling, turned to rest her baby sister on a nearby wheelbarrow where she could rest comfortably as she tied her hair up in a ribbon.

    Anyone who truly knew Violet Baudelaire knew that whenever she tied her hair back in her ribbon, it meant her brain was hard at work thinking of an invention. Violet was one of the greatest inventors of her time and she is well known for her ability to create a high functioning device out of nothing but the scraps around her. A skill that has proved more than helpful when it came to escaping Count Olaf and has gotten her and her siblings out of his clutches on more than one occasion. The ribbon was to keep the hair out of her eyes, and it never failed to help her think.

    She tied back her hair as she stared at the wall before her, all ready planning her next possible invention.

    "I bet I could invent a catapult to get us over."

    Meanwhile, Klaus was recalling all his acquired knowledge on walls and their infrastructure from his love of reading and his years of research. Another skill that has proved helpful to the children when surviving in a life on the run from Count Olaf.

    "I read about walls. The Wall of Jericho, the Great Wall of China." Klaus recalled.

    "All I need is a lever, a counterweight, and a very large spoon." Violet finished, as she tied the knot on her ribbon.

    "Pink Floyd's The Wall. Although mother wouldn't let me watch that one," Klaus chuckled weakly at the memory of his dearly departed mother.

    The siblings were taken aback to hear the creaking of the doors to the wooden wall and turned to find their clever baby sister at the gate.

    "Sunny," Violet said in surprise.

    The babbling toddler had managed to push open the gate with no trouble and sat on the ground gazing up at her older siblings.

    Violet gave a half-smirk and walked forward, picking her baby sister up from the dirty ground and piles of wood chips and wood dust. She walked back to stand next to her brother once more.

    Klaus frowned, and gestured to a sign in big red letters that read,

    "WARNING: Trespassers Will Be Put To Work"

    "Does this make us trespassers?" Klaus wondered.

    "We're children," Violet said.

    "Those aren't mutually exclusive." Klaus frowned.

    "If we get caught, we'll just say we were on a school trip. Come on." Violet eased, walking forward, although she wasn't feeling as confident as she appeared.

    Klaus followed in his sister's footsteps reluctantly, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

    They walked forward towards the front doors of the lumbermill and Klaus asked the obvious question that was on all of their minds.

    "What exactly are we looking for?"

     "It's like father said about fine art. We'll know it when we see it." She suggested. "I think we're in the right place."

    However, the three siblings stopped dead in their tracks, fear creeping in fast as they all saw the same terrifying building that stood tall in the lumber yard.

    You see, ever since the Baudelaire's were sent to live with the wretched villain Count Olaf, there was a symbol that haunted the children almost as much as the man himself. A symbol that followed Count Olaf and the children everywhere they went. This symbol was of an eye.

    A symbol that took form in a building.

    There before them stood a menacing building shaped like a giant eye. And not just any eye, but the exact same eye that was tattooed on a very villainous man.

    "I think we're in the right place," Violet said, stopping at the sight of the odd building.

    "Or the very, very wrong place," Klaus said in despair.

    "It could just be a coincidence," Violet offered, trying to ease her siblings' mind as well as her own.

    The woman in white who was pacing in front of the window in the eye-shaped building did not go unnoticed by the Baudelaires.

    "Maybe we should leave," Klaus said.

    Klaus had not realized how on edge he had been until he yelped in fright when he felt a hand tap on his shoulder, startling his sisters in the process.

    The three children whipped around to face an equally startled man who was not expecting the whole ordeal.

    The man sighed. "Forgive me. I thought you might be trespassers. But now I see you're just children."

    Klaus frowned once more. "They're not mutually-"

    Violet jumped in before her brother could accidentally give them away. "We're on a school trip."

    Klaus nodded. "Right, because we're schoolchildren." Klaus agreed less than convincingly.

    "Well, this lumbermill is hardly a safe place for children, yet I suppose that hasn't proved a problem yet. Nevertheless, I should know, I run it."

    The two oldest Baudelaire's shared an equally confused look before looking back at the man.

    "Pardon?" Violet asked.

    The man seemed to distract to noticed because he continued. "I'm Charles."

    The two Baudelaire's seemed to remember the photograph at the same time and they both eagerly scrambled to pull it out, and Violet handed it to Charles.

    "Do you recognize any of these people?"

    Charles took the photograph and gave it a look. The children noticed his eyes widened in shock but he quickly tried to cover it up. All he did was force a smile, and handed the children the photograph.

    "I think you better come see my partner," Charles said and began leading the children across the lumber yard, hiding his uneasy frown.

    Violet did not skip the opportunity to ask questions. "Do you know what happened to the town over there?"

    "Well, it's a sad story. Paltryville used to be booming," Charles explained as he led the three children to the office building. "We had a world food market, two hot yoga studios, and there was even talk of a water park. The name Paltryville was a misnomer. And then one day, the whole town burned down in a terrible fire."

    The three children shared uneasy looks at the mention of yet another devastating fire, like the symbol of the eye, fire was another thing that seemed to haunt to the children and was a key factor in their seemingly endless misfortune.

    "Luckily," Charles continued. "the lumbermill survived... and the eye-shaped building, which actually belongs to... oh, look, here we are."

    The children were disappointed to be cut short of answers yet again and sighed.

    Charles stepped forward and opened the door for the three children and the Baudelaire's stepped inside, hearts racing.

    Charles led them down the long hallway and when he reached two double doors.

    "Uh, children, I'd like you to meet..." he pulled back the sliding doors revealing a man surrounded in a cloud of cigar smoke.

    The man turned around, exhaling a large amount of smoke. "Call me Sir, everybody does 'cause I tell 'em to. I'm the boss. They have to do what I say, even my partner here."

    Charles coughed at the overwhelming amount of smoke.

    "Doesn't 'partner' mean 'equal'?" Klaus asked, confused by the situation.

    The two men shared a look and finally, Sir spoke for the two of them. "I do all the work. He irons my clothes." He said gruffly, taking another puff of the cigar.

    Charles lightly scoffed. "I also cook your omelets." He then gestured to the children. "I found them wandering unsupervised, poor dears."

    "Well, you know what we do with trespassers, don't you, Charles?" Said Sir.

    "But they're only children." Charles plead. "I thought we could take them in. Give them a loving, normative home."

    "Nonsense. I believe you treat children like grown-ups. Put 'em to work in the mill. It'll teach them responsibility. It'll teach them the value of hard work. And it'll teach 'em how to make flat wooden boards out of trees."

    "But, Sir-" Argued Charles, not before he was soon cut short by his partner once more.

     "Don't argue with me. We're partners. We've done it already, and there hasn't been a problem."

    Once again, Klaus seemed taken aback by the indication that another child was working here was continuing to be slipped into the conversation without any explanation. He was a bit upset that his sisters hadn't seemed to have noticed.

    "If we work in the mill, do we get to stay here?"

    "'Get to?'" Klaus didn't know what was more upsetting about this whole ordeal; the obvious breach of child labor laws or his sister's eagerness to stay and participate.

    "Bleyb" Sunny cooed, which meant "Stay here?"

    Sir smirked and gestured to Violet. "This one gets it. In this economy, children are lucky to have a job at all. What's your name, young lady?"

    "Violet... Baudelaire."

    Sir seemed shocked at the news.

    "A Baudelaire." He murmured in disbelief.

    "Wait, do you... do you know that name?" Klaus asked eagerly.

    Sir's voice lowered and his tone grew grim and serious.

    "Of course I do. Every man, woman, and child in Paltryville knows the name Baudelaire."

    "Why? Did you know our parents?" Violet asked.

    Klaus immediately stepped forward and showed the man the photograph. "Who are the other people in this photograph?"

    "Ack" Sunny said, which roughly translated to "What's with the eye-shaped building?"

    "I don't understand what 'ack' means, but if you want to know about your parents, they-" before he could finish, Sir erupted into a coughing fit caused him to gag.

    Charles started to pat his back. "Sir."

    "Every time we are about to get some answers. Seriously?" He turned to his sisters and quickly vented.

    Sir cleared his throat. "It's these cigars. I hate the things, but I can't quit smoking 'em. I'm the boss. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. There's a reason this town will never forget your parents. They're the ones that burned it down."

    The three children gasped in disbelief.

    "Our parents did what?" Klaus asked, not wanting to believe what he just heard.

    "I'm an important man. Don't make me repeat myself. They burned down the town! They're, um... not anywhere nearby, are they?"

    And just like that, it felt like another punch to the gut for the children.

    "They died... in a fire," Violet answered, in a monotone voiced, knowing if she showed any sliver of emotion she would collapse into tears.

    "Good." Sir said, nodding. "What goes around comes around. It's a terrible thing, startin' a fire."

    Sir had walked over to his fireplace and threw another log onto the dwindling flames as he spoke, the Baudelaire children were listening, unable to believe such harsh and vile words spoken about their late parents.

    "Why are you still standing there? You got work to do in the morning." Sir barked.

    The children felt as if their feet were glued to the floor, their limbs were frozen. They felt numb and were still processing the terrible information they had just received. How could they possibly find the courage to get to work now?

•••

    That night in the lumbermill workers' dorm, the Baudelaires pondered what they'd heard, and the weight of it felt like it had aged them a hundred years. Though, of course, it hadn't.

    "Did you hear about the new recruits?" The woman at the nearby table asked as she tinkered with a small device.

     If you are gossiping about someone and you don't have anything nice to say that that can be considered a very rude thing to do, but to do so when the person in question is well within earshot makes it a truly awful thing to do. Much like Norma Rae, Ceasar and Jimmy were doing, as they spoke illy of the Baudelaire's when they were only a few feet away.

    "They're Baudelaires." Sneered Norma Rae.

    "I hear their folks were arsonists." Mumbled Jimmy, his eyes never leaving his book.

    "I hear they checked out library books and never returned them." Grumbled Ceasar, in between bites of food.

    "I hear they drank blood from the skulls of chupacabras." Said Norma Rae.

    "You mean they drank from baby's skulls like chupacabras."

    "I know what I heard."

    "Now, that's enough you three! You're just making stuff up at this point." Came a young voice, much to the Baudelaire's surprise.

     The three children looked up in shock to see a young girl, who looked to be about a year or two younger than Violet, come walking up to the table, a small dinner tray in hand. She was dressed in a uniform identical to other lumber workers and was sprinkled with sawdust.

     The three were at a loss for words as the stern look directed at the other three lumber workers softened when she turned to look at the Baudelaires. She smiled warmly.

    "I apologize for the unwelcoming environment. I know how hard it is to lose your family in such a terrible manner. Is this seat taken?" She asked hopefully.

    The three Baudelaires looked at one another and then back to the friendly stranger and the eldest sibling smiled politely, gesturing to the open seat across the table. "Not at all."

    "Thank you," the girl smiled and took a seat.

    "Thank you. For saying those things, I mean." Klaus stuttered.

    The girl smiled at him and he smiled back. She sat up straight and looked at the three.

    "Where are my manners? I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N." Y/N held out her hand and shook each hand. First Klaus, then Violet then little baby Sunny.

    "It's nice to meet you. I'm Violet Baudelaire, this is my sister Sunny and my brother Klaus."

    "It's nice to meet you three, as well. I'm just sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances. Tell me, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you three to Lucky Smells?" She asked, taking a bite of her food.

    "Yebo," Sunny said.

    Y/N tilted her head to politely show her confusion.

    "What my sister means is, it's kind of a long story." Klaus smiled weakly.

    Y/N straighten up and looked at sunny and smiled, "Well, if you're willing, I'm all ears, Sunny."

    Sunny smiled at the girl, much like her siblings, she was already beginning to feel at home from the girl's welcoming presence.

    So the three siblings shared their terrible tale. Everything from the gloomy day at Briny Beach, to the current day and how Charles put them to work after telling them their parents had caused the fire. Once they had finished, the Baudelaires grew worried that their new companion grew quiet.

    "I'm- I'm so sorry Baudelaires, that sounds... unspeakably terrible."

    The Baudelaires sighed.

    "It was. It... is." Violet said glumly.

    "Wait, so, you don't believe our parents started the Paltryville fire?" Klaus asked hopefully.

    Y/N smiled sadly. "No, Baudelaires, I don't. I never have. This probably doesn't help, but I'm afraid I'm the only one who thinks so."

    "It does help," Violet said, much to Y/N's confusion. "At least someone believes us, I mean. It's better than no one."

    Y/N smiled sadly at the kind nature of three children. Despite all their hardships, they were still truly good and kind people.

    "Now, if you don't mind us asking, you know why we're here but, we don't know why you're here. You're so young, how did you find yourself working at a dangerous place like this?"

    Y/N grew somber and folded her hands in her lap and looked at the Baudelaires. "My parents and I lived in Paltryville all my life. But when the town burnt down, my family perished as well. I had nowhere to go, and no one came to get me like this Mr. Poe you told me about. So I had to fend for myself."

    The Baudelaires nodded in understanding as their new friend told her story.

    "I knew that Lucky Smells provided housing for their workers so I applied and I was rather shocked at how little they needed convincing. Quite concerning actually," The Baudelaires all nodded their head eagerly in agreement. "Anyways, I've worked here ever since."

    It was quiet for a moment and then Y/N continued. "My parents spoke of yours often Baudelaires. It seems they were friends. Colleagues even. I would always ask in what but they'd refuse to tell me. Anyways, they always spoke highly of your parents. My mom even said that your parents saved their lives once. That's why I refuse to believe your parents ever could have done something so wicked. I trust my parents and they say yours were good people and I stick by that."

    "Thank you, Y/N," Klaus said, smiling at the girl who smiled back.

    "Geebo" Sunny said, which meant "Get a room!" It caused Violet to fight a smirk and Klaus shook his head to clear his thoughts and partly to hide the creeping blush.

    Suddenly, the high pitched ring of the speakers pierced the silence and a booming static muffled voice rang out. "Lights out. Two seconds."

    Then, all the lights in the cabin, save for the lit candles, shut off simultaneously.

    "But it's only six 'o clock," Klaus said.

    Suddenly, a large, happy man walked by towards his bunk bed. "Oh, boy, more time for dreaming." He said cheerily.

    "That's Phil. As you can see he's a bit of an optimist."

    "Did someone say my name?"

    "Hi, Phil! I was just helping the Baudelaire's get acquainted. They're the new recruits everyone has been talking about."

    "Oh boy! New friends!" He wheezed in delight. "I'm Phil, and I'm excited to work with you kids."

    Violet smiled weakly and gestured to her siblings.

    "Thank you. I'm Violet. These are my siblings, Klaus and Sunny."

    "Listen, I... I know things seem dark. But you have to look on the bright side. So your parents burned down towns. You don't have to be like your parents. My parents were Olympic athletes and look at me." He smiled a toothy grin. "I work in a lumbermill."

    Y/N sighed at Phil's comment and about the Baudelaire parents, feeling bad for the poor orphans and embarrassed knowing her friend didn't realize what he had done. She quickly tried to change the subject.

    "Phil, did you have you have something there?" She asked, gesturing to his bag in the table.

    The optimist's smile grew and he reached for the bag pulling out some pamphlets and a set of uniforms for the children.

    "Who wants a welcome packet?"

    The Baudelaires felt unsettling feeling growing in the pit of their stomachs as they thought of what might lay ahead of them in the morning. But nevertheless, it seemed a bit of the man's optimism had rubbed off on the children, especially a certain speckled Baudelaire, in particular, knowing they had made a new friend their age.

    For the first time in what felt like months, the children felt as if they weren't so alone. Having someone who understands exactly what you are going through during a particularly traumatic time can be a very fortunate, very rare thing. Someone to share you're experiences and hardships with, someone to complain to who'll say "My entire family perished in a terrible fire and an evil and treacherous man is following me and conspiring to get my family fortune as well!", rather than the less than comforting "Look on the bright side, at least you survived. And there is no way that man could ever find you in disguise a fourth time!" can sometimes be the most therapeutic experience. And that is exactly what the Baudelaires and Y/N L/N found when they found each other.

•••

    "I do hope I'm not intruding," Y/N said as she returned to the table, having washed her dishes.

    The three smiled at Y/N. "Not at all," Klaus said.

    "I would be more than happy to offer my services to you three. I like you Baudelaires, and I'll help in any way I can to help clear your parents' names and I'll keep an eye out for this vile man Count Olaf, you've told me so much about."

    The three shared a look. Violet looked to the girl and leaned in concerned.

    "That is a very kind offer Y/N, but I'd hate to put you in danger. I dread to think what would happen if he ever caught up to us and knew you were helping us. He isn't afraid of hurting innocent people, and certainly not children,"

    "And I appreciate the concern, Violet. But I want to help." Y/N looked around before leaning in and whispering. "I don't know much, but my parents were apart of something big and I think we are after the same answers. If we work together, I think we can find out what's really been going on. I hadn't mentioned this before, I hardly speak of them, but I too have siblings as well"

    The faces of the Baudelaires fell, even baby sunny let out a sympathetic coo, and Y/N leaned back.

    "It's true. They died in the fire. B/n and S/n. They were twins." She trailed off at the mention of her siblings. "I loved them and I miss them every day. Maybe, just maybe I can find some answers and find out why all these fires are being started."

    It was quiet for a moment. Then Klaus spoke up.

    "I'm, so sorry for your loss."

    She smiled sadly. "Thank you, Klaus. And I'm sorry for yours. But, you must know, I can hold my own. And I am not afraid of facing Count Olaf if it means looking out for you three. And I'd be more than willing to help in any way I can if you'll let me."

    "Thank you, Y/N. We really appreciate it!"

    "So, what can I do to help."

    "Unfortunately, we're not even sure what we're going to do yet. We were going to come up with a plan tonight."

    "Okay! Well, here's a map of the mill. Maybe this will help." Y/N said, unfolding the large map that had been on the table, while Klaus began reading through the welcome manual.

    "Oh, look Klaus. The mill has a library. Maybe you can research what happened here and clear our parents' names."

    "Oh, yeah. I've never actually been there before. I forgot it was there. Break times are so short but I bet you could go during lunchtime," Y/N offered.

    Klaus chuckled and gestured to the Manual. "Look. The mill has machines. Maybe you could invent a way of making planks out trees faster."

    "Yeeb" cooed sunny, as she pointed to a coupon. "Look. It's that eye building."

    "Y/N, what can you tell us about this building?" Violet asked as she leaned forward, examining the picture.

    "Oh, you mean Dr. Orwell's office? She's an optometrist who works just across the mill. I hardly ever see her. She's a bit of a recluse."

    "Hmm," recalled Klaus. "Father always said he didn't trust them. Or optimists now that I recall."

    "But what does an optometrist's office have to do with Count Olaf?" Violet wondered. "Maybe Phil was right. We should look on the bright side. This mill may be miserable, but since we got here, we haven't seen Count Olaf. And we met you, Y/N." The new set of friends smiled at each other. "What if that eye really was a coincidence? What I'd we finally found a place where Count Olaf won't find us?"

    "Hopefully, you're right Violet. Here, let's see what we can do," she reached for the manual and map and the four children began planning for tomorrow.

•••

    Later that night, the children lay in bed. Y/N was already fast asleep in her usual spot on the bottom bunk. Klaus was next to her in the adjacent bunk. Violet and Sunny shared the top bunk above Klaus.

    "Is Sunny asleep?" Whispered Klaus in the dead of night.

    Violet turned over to get a peek at her sister, who was sleeping soundly and smiling, as she occasionally nipped at the air. Violet smiled fondly.

    "She's dreaming about biting something. Why?" Replied Violet.

    "What Sir said about our parents. You don't think it could be true." Klaus asked.

    Violet frowned. "Of course not."

    "Then you agree what we have to do."

    "Of course," Violet said. The two siblings then spoke at the same time. "Clear their names."

    "Get out of here. Wait, what?" Klaus asked bewildered.

    "If we clear their names, maybe we can finally get some answers. Besides, what about Y/N?" Violet asked.

    At the mention of their new friend, Klaus turned his head and looked over at the sleeping girl. Unlike Sunny, she looked troubled as she slept. She hugged her pillow tightly and a frown was etched onto her face.

    Klaus bit his lip and turned, focusing his gaze on the top bunk above him, not wanting to think about leaving the girl he just met.

    "She's wonderful, and it's very gracious of her to offer to help, which is all the more reason to get out of here while we can. If Count Olaf catches up to us, we'd be putting her in danger. And I'm sorry, but I can't help but think, maybe our parents wouldn't want us here anyway."

    "Then they shouldn't have left us alone." Violet snapped.

    Klaus was shocked at his sister.

    "You know that's not what they did."

    Violet took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I know it's not their fault. And I know you're just trying to be cautious."

    Klaus sighed. "I guess we're not seeing eye to eye."

    It was quiet for a moment, and then Klaus spoke once more. "I wish they were here. Our parents."

    "I know." Replied Violet, in a sad tone. "I don't like this place either. But staying is the best way to find out what our parents were hiding."

    "The best way to find out would be to ask them. But we never can."

[ray-the-fanatic]

Fluffevmber prompt: Hurt/comfort 1/2 

(I’m doing another one for this prompt)

Am I allowed to want more?

Characters: Mark beaks and Falcon Graves (ship but more platonic and hints at romantic feelings) 

Warning: Alcohol mentioned, Sex mentioned and some mild cursing.

Ao3 link ________________________________________________________________

Mark was being especially Mark like today Flacon noted as he watched the young parrot move around his office building. He waited for him by the elevator watching him zip around on his hoverboard board as he took time to great his employees and start making his demands for coffee and food orders. 

Falcon had still been kind of new to the job but at this point, he was used to his boss's antics. It was interesting to get to observe him like this over the past few months. Mark was well many things. Falcon could admit a few good things about him he got people pretty well. Despite his image and mistakes, his employees seemed content working here. Mark seemed to know how to run the business as well. Offering many benefits no other workplace was likely to have but seemed to be benefits to those working here. Made work less like a trap and more inviting. Mark was actually smart when he wanted to be. 

Since he’d been around him for a while Falcon and gotten observant on his boss, of course for professional reasons he always assured. Best to learn one's habits and quirks so you can notice any changes. Like if Mark was secretly being held hostage he could do something that would be a sign to Falcon to know something was wrong. Not that Falcon would allow any harm to come. Professionally speaking of course. Mark, however, seemed off this morning normally he just told everyone when he wanted his 7:15 coffee instead the women asking about it more confirmed if he wanted one at that time. Mark was just staring down at his phone when nodded and gave his usual cool, cool line. Clearly not listening. 

He finally got to the elevator and got in along with Falcon. Falcon glanced over to Mark as he was scrolling away on his phone. He hadn't heard the usual tapping sound he associated with Mark. When he looked down a bit more to see the screen, he could tell Mark was looking at someone else's profile. Mark was in some pictures with them and those were the ones he seemed to click on. It seemed like he was removing the highlighted text for his username. 

Mark was quick to scroll back up to the profile and Falcon watched him hit the unfollow button. Quickly Mark moved off the profile happening to catch Falcon starting. 

“What’s up Gravesy?” He asked “getting caught in my good looks again?” Mark teased

Falcon looked away and gave a slightly annoyed growl maybe he was overthinking it. Falcon wasn't too sure why it was weighing on his mind. He was reluctant to be Mark's bodyguard in the first place. The pay was convincing though. It came with some odd requirements like living with his boss but because of that, he was exposed to Mark's habits more than anyone. So he knew when Mark went into his office while turning his phone off. That something was going on.  

Mark stayed quite the way back home Falcon on a normal day would have liked the peace. Mark seemed like he could talk for days and at best Falcon only understood a fraction of what he said. But it kind of bothered him now not to hear the usual parrots flare. Having to question if he cared about Mark for that to be a reason why. He pulled the car into the driveway and Mark pulled out his phone glancing at the screen.

"Mr. Beaks?" Falcon asked slightly gripping on to the steering wheel. 

"Mark" he was corrected flatly. 

"Right Mark." Falcon was still getting used to the casual way of addressing him as he cleared his throat "are you alright?" 

Mark looked over to Falcon "uh?" 

"You just seem well not your normal self," Falcon added on 

Mark seemed stunned for a moment as he looked back at Falcon. He sat in silence for a bit searching for the words then quickly plastered on his insufferable grin to cover up the last expression as if it never showed.  

"Aw what's this? does big tough Gravesy care about me?" Mark said teasing the older bird now. 

Falcon rolled his eyes and fixed the parrot with an annoyed glare. But, part of him kind of felt relief with how his mood turned around. Seeming more like his usual self now. The mocking was still irritating though so he got out.

"Nevermind my mistake your still a thorn in my side." 

Mark opened his door slightly so he could poke his head out  "wait Gravesy we were having a moment." He said smiling as he clearly heard Falcon make an obscene threat under his breath while walking away from the car. Mark was smiling still watching him grumble. Then faded a moment as he thought to himself. He was about to speak up but his phone started to ring. Mark looked at it and groaned as he went to answer it stepping out of the car now.

"What now?" He said as he slammed the door shut and leaned back against it well listening to the voice on the other end.

Falcon watched him from the door as his mood again changed. Then headed inside decided to stay out of it when Mark's voice started to get louder. Something about unfollowing because they have no right to be connected to his name. He paid no mind feeling it wasn’t worth any concerns.

Something he regretted later when he heard a loud crash that interrupted his sleep. Falcon shot up quickly, it was a shattering sound meaning glass. Was someone trying to break in? He tossed his covers up and got out of his bed. His first thought was to check on Mark. But, a quick peek told him he wasn't in his room. So he decided to go for the sound instead chances were Mark caused it. 

Falcon sighed a bit he was pleased to be correct but at the same time annoyed. As he was watching Mark wobbling on a chair he stacked up on different piles of books in front of the cabinets of his wet bark. Seeming to try and get a bottle on the self that he couldn’t reach on his own. Falcon calmly walked over mentally timing his approach as he held out his arms in time for Mark to fall into as he fall back. Just as the chair wobbled and swayed back. Falcon as well lifted up his foot to the chair to stop it from tipping over, getting it to straighten back up on the books. 

"Oh hey buddy!" Mark yelled out like he almost didn't crack his head open on the tile floor. A strong hint of alcohol hitting Falcon's eyes when he spoke. 

Falcon set him back to his feet and took the chair off the stacks of books. Looking around to get an idea of what happened as he found a broken bottle on the ground. Falcon could pick up the scent of alcohol from it too. As he could hear Mark struggling with bottle of whiskey he managed to get before nearly falling over. Guessing Mark bumped it out of the way when trying for the one he had now. 

"Are you drunk?" Falcon asked as he stood back up finding a dish rag nearby and simply dropped it on the floor to soak up the mess for now. 

"No, I'm in the middle of getting drunk. Big difference." Mark corrected as he got the bottle opened up smiling as he went down its contents.

Falcon took it from his hand before he could. 

"Should you really be drinking when you have work tomorrow?" Falcon asked or more advised. 

"Wouldn't be the first time" Mark confessed as he took the bottle back "just turn up my beaks charm. No one notices anything about me, like always. Full proof." 

Falcon raised an eyebrow with the tone Mark used despite how cheerful his face looked. Then grabbed the bottle again setting it up on top of the cabinet. Getting a slight boo from Mark. 

"Why do you need to be drunk?" Falcon asked piecing things together. 

“You wouldn’t get it.” Mark stated as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter with a huff.

“Let me guess for the awful mood you’ve been all day?” Falcon said as he started picking up the books. “You act like a goddamn kid sometimes instead of “

"Because drunk means no feelings to think about." Mark answered interrupting Falcon.  

"Feelings?" Falcon managed to ask a bit shocked at the reaction starting to set the books up on the counter. 

"Yeah stupid things that make you act weird and tell your causal partner you might want to be more and then they just leave in the middle of" mark trailed off a moment "a certain um ya known thing people do at night sometimes in a bed sometimes in a car.” “Sex?” Falcon said asked then felt a bit of something, maybe empathy when he saw Mark just nod. Ouch making a bit of a narrative for himself to understand what happened, he wasn’t going to make Mark confirm it. He wouldn’t even want to admit that if it happened to him. 

“Because I ruined things by being weird and I want to forget it for just a bit.” Mark continued on still answering Falcon’s question. Mark sighed as he was digging his fingers into his jacket sleeves gripping the fabric tightly. Seeming like he had a million thoughts processing at once as he found a random tile to focus his gaze on. 

Falcon reached back into the cabinet and retrieved the bottle he took away. Then snagged two cups as well. He poured a bit of whiskey into each one then offered one to Mark. 

“A little is fine I think.” he said to him when Mark looked at him in question.

Mark took the cup and just stared at it a moment before he raised it to his beak and slung it back quickly. As if it was going to solve something only to give a disappointed stare back at the empty glass. Hearing what he was sure was a slight chuckle from Falcon next to him. The larger bird joined Mark and leaned back against the counter slightly brushing against Mark's arm. Falcon’s presence was something he was used to now but this was a bit different. It was warm. Mark liked noise from the sound of his own voice to the most recent dubstep track. Yet, this moment of silence wasn’t tense or heavy. He found a bit of clarity in it even.

“Why would that be weird?” Falcon asked as he gently swirled his drink in the glass breaking the silence between them.

“Uh?”

“You wanted things to be more with your partner?” He asked giving more clarity this time. 

“People don’t date seriously anymore it’s old fashioned not trendy, it's trendy to date around ya know.”

Falcon looked lost. Mark didn’t really blame him maybe his age. Though Mark wasn’t one to talk suddenly remembering that night when trying his best to sound loving when he whispered into Zeke’s ear. Met with a sharp push to the chest landing him on the floor. Then watching Zeke leave the room laughing almost. 

“You seem to want that though.” Falcon pointed out pulling mark back from his thoughts again. 

Mark paused a moment “I guess?” he was fine before but somehow that changed, when did he start wanting more? The casual thing was easy to deal with freedom to do what he wanted and if he felt the need he would just call someone up for a date or otherwise. Now he wanted more than that? It just kind of hit him that night suddenly.

“That’s what you said happened isn’t it” Falcon pushed a bit, Mark didn’t have to answer really he just thought some train of thought would help Mark focus instead. Having seen how his eyes kept darting around between gaps in conversation. Sometimes reaching up to pet at his break deep in thought. 

“Yeah, I mean I guess. I don’t know.” Mark ran his hand through his hair messing it when his fingers combed through it. “I don’t know what happened, I thought I was fine like this, a few people in my contacts I could dial-up at any time.” 

“So, is or was I suppose, this person special?”

Mark laughed “No, honestly nothing but a dick. As in personality.” Mark cleared up “we had just been hanging out a lot lately used to just be for casual meetups but we starting talking more...I kind of liked that. Talking to someone who listened.” kind of like now actually. The Parrot thought a moment. “It wasn’t about much really I got drunk and we were venting and he had my back on things..” Mark trailed off for a moment. “It was mainly superficial about my posts and image and his. I guess...I started to wonder if it could become?” he rubbed at the back of his head slowly processing.

“Personal?” Falcon cut in with as he set his now empty glass down on the counter 

Mark just nodded. "It’s lame. I know just, I guess the idea of-"

"I don’t think that is lame.”

“You’ve dated?” Mark asked with a slight smile his mind already going wild with that information alone. Wondering how Falcon Graves acted with his significant other. Trying no to laugh as he imagined him cuddling someone tenderly or preening their feathers. His thoughts more going to all those softer expressions now. Feeling an ache in his chest. 

Falcon rolled his eyes in response “not much but yes and nothing like you seem to partake in. I have had many good past relationships with my ex boyfriends.” 

Falcon half expects Mark to make another joke or tease about how Falcon had feelings instead he had to make sure he heard what he did.

“Am I allowed to want more?” Mark was staring back at the ground holding a hand to his chest. Almost like he could feel the emptiness that was there. Slowly looked up at Falcon his eyes wide and shimmering slightly while trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall at any second “You know someone to look forward to seeing every day. Someone easy to talk to, someone you always want to talk to and can’t wait to see. Who notices small things about you. It’s corny but I like that idea.” he said slightly forcing out a laugh to keep his tears back.

Falcon took a moment to think, Mark could be very annoying but he was vulnerable now so he wanted to tread carefully. He gently placed a hand on the parrot's shoulder hoping that counted for something. “Of course you can want more. Maybe just be more careful who you try pursuing it with? Maybe I don’t know, try someone who actually cares about.” “Yeah I don’t see those happening people care about the image of Mark Beaks, not the person. Not that you can really blame anyone. Mark Beaks isn’t really the greatest person just between us” Mark sighed “maybe I am a bit drunk.” trying to cover up for what he said. 

“He’s not so bad”  

Mark’s eyes widen hearing that

Falcon took his hand away after a moment. Feeling awkward now but cleared his throat before speaking again. “Even if it can be insufferable at times ... I much more prefer the usual Mark Beak’s trade make attitude?” He added trying to phase it how he thought Mark might. 

Mark couldn’t seem to keep staring at Falcon anymore having to drop his gaze away. He could feel something else in his empty chest now but couldn’t place an emotion to it. 

“And you know..I did notice something was off about you.” Falcon added not fully sure why as he also looked away picking his own tile to stare at.

Mark smiled a bit remembering earlier in the car “Aw Gravesy cares about me.” less obnoxious about it this time.

“Maybe a little.” Falcon said smiling.

__________________________________________

Been wanting to write these  two for awhile and decided this would be the time to try. Any feedback is welcomed.  

[honestgrins]

kc + cia caroline fake dating for a mission international criminal spy klaus who doesn't know the dating is fake OR DOES HE

Covert || Klaroline

“Have you slept with him?”

Hot coffee sloshed in her cup as Caroline jolted. “God, Enzo,” she hissed. “A little louder, why don’t you?”

With an annoying smirk, her borrowed handler slid onto the park bench next to her. “Gorgeous, the only ones listening are your boyfriend’s spies. If they don’t already know you’re shagging, then he must not be very good.”

She could only stare at him blankly. “You have a death wish. An actual wish to die, because he-”

“Is too smitten with you to risk targeting your only friend in the city.” Enzo knocked his shoulder with hers, tossing his arm around her back like he wasn’t trying to antagonize one of the world’s most reclusive players in the criminal underworld. “How is this vacation going?”

Sighing, Caroline leaned into the contact. As irritating as the MI6 agent had been throughout her brief stint in London, he wasn’t wrong that he was the closest thing she had to a friend. And the mission had become…complicated. “He asked me to stay. Well, technically, he wants to take me to Paris, but,” she waved her free hand, “stay with him.”

His brow furrowed, apparently concerned. “It’s been two weeks.”

She winced over a shrug. “He likes me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

It wasn’t a knock against her charms, she knew, but a genuine question all spies had to ask themselves when deep undercover. Intelligence was only as good as its accuracy, and well-placed confidence was everything. Caroline was good at her job; she was also in over her head with Klaus Mikaelson. “I’m not sure about anything.”

“Your friend Lorenzo is a suspicious one.”

Rolling her eyes, Caroline tilted her head up from where it laid in his lap to glare at him. They’d been having such a nice afternoon together, him reading a book and her checking socials on her tablet. He just had to go and ruin it with the whole supervillain schtick. “You don’t get to call him paranoid for assuming you were having us watched when you were actually having us watched.”

Klaus grinned down at her, brushing idle fingers through her hair. “I like taking care of you, sweetheart, which can mean the occasional guard or two. They were there for your safety, the eavesdropping was a mostly pleasant surprise.”

“Only mostly?” she said quietly, looking away.

His voice sounded sad, though he never paused the gentle strokes along her scalp. “You have doubts. About me.”

Caroline set aside the tablet and sat up. She watched as his hand fell down to his side, forlorn. Her gaze trailed up his shirt, the threadbare Henley completely at odds with the rap sheet she knew accompanied the man underneath it. Still, she found herself toying with the hem, her lips curled up at how soft it was. “We met less than a month ago, where you introduced yourself as a dangerous criminal with my date’s blood all over your nice suit.” It had seemed prudent to prod the edge of his organization early by flirting with a lower level thug destined to screw up. The plan worked so beautifully that she was already in the web without needing to justify her presence, only to bait his interest and let his ego do the rest. “Forgive me for questioning the wisdom of this relationship.”

Something hardened in Klaus’s expression, only to smooth over almost instantly. Frowning, she lifted a finger to where his dimple would be if he smiled at her again. “What is it?”

He gently took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. His sudden pensiveness left her tense, while the slight flutter of his lashes made her melt. “You’ve never called it a relationship,” he murmured, pulling her hand between both of his. “A rebound, a fling… Never a relationship.”

“I-” She paused, realizing he was right. “Wow. Yeah.”

His fingers laced through hers, not quite meeting her eyes. “One might think you’ve made a decision after all.”

“Maybe I have,” she admitted with a disbelieving laugh. “Oh, god. My mother is going to kill me.”

With a wry smile, Klaus pulled her toward him until she rested against him. She went happily, leaning her head in the crook of his neck. “Perhaps. The good sheriff you describe does seem to treasure that small town life.” Caroline smacked his chest, smiling fondly. “Your father, though. He could be a problem.”

All of her training took over to prevent her muscles from locking up in fear. Her cover had been deceptively thin, the personal nature of the mission requiring a more intimate mingling of true and false details than the norm. The small town had changed, but the sheriff mother finally healed from a bitter divorce had not. Bill Forbes, however, was supposed to be dead and gone and estranged even before that. After all, Caroline hadn’t gotten to Langley without the right connections, her dad’s partner being one of them. If Klaus knew he was alive, then he also knew he was married to a spook - hardly a coincidence easily explained. She could play dumb, too confused to understand. But he’d never buy it; he liked that she was more clever than people assumed, had said so whenever one of his goons underestimated her willingness to escape surveillance. Coming clean as a CIA operative would just get her killed. That left only one productive avenue for their dynamic - to start a fight.

Offended pride puffed out her chest as a flush heated her whole face. Klaus watched her push back from him, his stare cool and assessing. “Excuse me? My father? What the hell are you talking about?”

His head canted to the side, almost amused. “Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart. MI6 has always been a bit sloppy with agents from across the pond. You were good, took me a whole two days to notice the gaps in your story, another week to track down the particulars of your actual career.”

“You’ve been playing me.” Her throat felt raw as the horror clutched at her chest. Whether it was at being made or that he’d been pretending, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to know if it helped her get out alive.

Klaus shrugged, any semblance of relaxation betrayed by the taut clench of his jaw, even as he gently rubbed his hand along the knee she’d left in his reach. “No more than you have been. Caroline Forbes, just two years into active status with Central Intelligence, more than capable of picking off my less than legal enterprises, one by one. Yet they threw you to the wolves by reducing you to the honeypot.” His palm was warm, even through the leggings she wore. “You are worth so much more than that, my love.”

He said it like he was still reading his book, some Napoleon biography, a matter of facts presented with only the slightest bias. And her whole being lurched with awe and confusion and want that she couldn’t compartmentalize, not with all the training in the world. “What?”

“I’d hand you the world if you’d let me,” he answered, voice soft. “But I’d rather watch you take it by storm, questioning every authority with the tenacity those agencies of yours have likely tried to grind from your bones.”

Struck speechless, Caroline could only blink at him. Within all of ten minutes, he’d turned her entire world upside down like it was nothing. “I don’t understand,” she finally said, more confused when he moved her into his lap. “Are you going to kill me?”

His nose brushed against her cheek, not quite close enough to kiss. Just tempt. “Now, why would I do a thing like that?”

She didn’t have to say it aloud. Klaus was a king of the underworld, and she was supposed to expose him to the light and make him face the consequences he’d earned. Patiently, he waited for her to acknowledge the truth of him. He did bad things, and in many ways he was a bad man. Leaning in, her lips just barely touched his, and their breath slowed together. “This is a terrible, terrible idea.”

“Everything to lose,” Klaus agreed. A dimple peeked out from around his smirk, a sure sign of victory. For whom, she had no idea, but they were going to celebrate all the same. “What do you say, Caroline?”

Her mind whirred with various plans and outcomes, only to fall blissfully silent when she fell into him. Everything else could wait.

[melyaliz]

Feeling Good

Fandom: DC

Pairing: Jason x OC 

Notes: crack ships continue....

You all can blame @speedypan

Ok but can I first say these two took like FOUR PAGES to get going? And it wasn’t even like cute sexual drama? It was Faith NOT SHUTTING UP.

Also I feel like I’m cheating on Tim. Like a lot. Because now I have a pre-fic and maybe a post-fic idea too.

I don’t know why but this one was hard to post. Let’s all just pretend When you see Faith you are really seeing Y/N.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

——————————————-

"Does it always hurt the first time?”

Jason choked on the flask of water Faith had given him. Water filling his lungs from the short breaths he was now gasping. Of all the crazy and weird things, Faith had ever told him this wasn’t something he had expected.

They were just relaxing after a rather crazy gang takedown. Sitting on the roof of his small safe house. Just enjoying the comfort silence until the younger hero had broken it.

“Ok wow, you don’t have to act so shocked.” Faith said rolling her eyes. “It was a simple question.”

“Not if they are doing it right.” Jason coughed again letting his lungs settle after almost being downed.

They lapsed into silence again. Jason had known Faith as a kid running the streets of Gotham. Back then A two-year gap was felt much bigger when you’re 13 and she’s 11.

But when coming back as an 18-year-old with a 16-year-old women.

Well… things had changed.

Not that Jason had noticed.

It wasn’t like Jason had caught himself admiring how Faith had filled out. Sure she was still -and probably always would be- a petite girl, but her once gangly body had filled out and toned from her years of dancing.

It wasn’t like Jason felt his pulse quicken just a bit when she would touch him. A simple hug or a sparring match didn’t sometimes leave him a little more flustered then it should.

Or it wasn’t like he would EVER admire her beating down a bad guy thinking about how rough she could get in bed.

Nope, not at all.

“So why do you ask,” Jason asked glancing over at Faith who was now swinging her legs back and forth over the side of the safehouse roof. “Planning on popping the cherry of a certain boy in red.”

It was no secret that Faith and Tim had SOMETHING going on. Or had long before Jason had come back. He was stepping into some tangled mess he knew he didn’t belong in. While Faith had never been once for fluffy romance her frequent missions with Tim and the way she would light up when he spoke wasn’t hard to miss.

Although, as time had passed she had started to go on more missions with him. Opting for more local heroism.

And sometimes when she flashed him that mischievous smile and asked him to help her take down a gang of shit bags Jason couldn’t help but picture him celebrating with Faith just a little harder than normal.

“No,” was her simple response, “He’s dating Stephanie and… I don’t know.” she turned to him, her hazel eyes soft, “I think it was like this thing we had before was then. But now we are different, older? I don’t know I’m not a words person.”

Jason laughed, “so if it’s not Tim catching the interest of the Guardian Angel of Gotham who has her thinking about first times?”

“I don’t think it’s any one person…” Faith’s voice trailed off, “I think it’s more something one of my classmates said. About first times never being as good as it’s built up to be and that it actually kind of hurt. I had never had an idea of what a first time should be so I never thought about it as good or bad but if it’s going to hurt maybe… I don’t know it’s not like I need to have sex.”

“Woah now! Don’t just swear off sex!” This earned him a light laugh and something in his stomach made Jason feel like he was a kid again crushing on Dona or Barbara.

“Didn’t realize you were so invested in my sex life Jason.”

“Well, you came to me with this problem so now I am invested. Faith, your first time doesn’t have to be bad, in fact, it shouldn’t be. It's about talking to your partner, going slow, building up the sexual tension. It’s about going with what feels good, listening to how your partner is reacting to what you are doing… it’s about…” he paused realizing how close Faith was. As he had spoken it was as if his words had drawn her closer to him. He could smell her as a breeze gently blew around them. That sweet musky vanilla jasmine scent that always seemed to linger around her.

Shit.

“You can’t just pound one out.” Jason wrapped up quickly.

Faith burst out laughing sending shivers down Jason’s spine once again, “Pound one out? Ok but we just did that.”

“ Wrong kind of pounding, trust me.”

“Yeah well, the way you pounded those bad guys I would never want you pounding me.”

“Oh trust me, if I pounded you, you would be begging for more.”

The words had just slipped out. He hadn’t meant… fuck.

“Do they all beg for more while your on top of them like that guy with the weird beard today. Oh Jason, just smash my face in Jason.”

“If you're so curious let me show you.”

Another laugh, “Are we getting one of those busty chicks you go home with to come over? Do I watch and take notes? Sounds kind of kinky.”

Oh my god, she was SUCH a clueless virgin. This is why Faith, this is why you don’t get laid. Trust me, he had seen the men lining up for her while she blissfully just walked by. “No,” Jason said leaning forward, closing the gap between them, his face now only a breath away from hers.

“Let me show you.”

He was gentle, soft, asking permission with his actions as his lips touched hers. Ready to pull away at the moments of hesitation. Any sign she really wasn’t ok with this.

But to his pure delight (maybe a little too delighted) she leaned forward. This obviously wasn’t her first kiss because FUCK she was good. Her lips meeting his soft touch with a light tongue dancing across his lips. Teasing and gitty giving him slight butterflies in his stomach. Giving him feels he hadn’t felt in years. Stealing a kiss behind the school with some cute classmate or in an alleyway from a grateful citizen.

But he was here to teach her not reminisce about childhood days long gone.

Although that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself.

He always forgot how much bigger he was than her, maybe it was her “large” personality, but as he gently moved over her, her petite body seemed to get swallowed by his. Curling up under him as her arms wrapped around his neck playing with his hair.

She let out a soft giggle as she moved sharply for a moment under him causing him to pull away.

“Sorry” she muttered pulling the flask he had gifted her from behind her back. “Was kind of poking my ribs”

“Well now that we have gotten the kissing part out of the way, come on.” he took her hand and she raised an eyebrow, confused. “I’m not letting you have your first time on the roof, we are at least doing it in a bed.”

“Ok” was her simple response.

He lead her down off the roof never letting his hand leave hers. Unsure if that was for her comfort or his own. As if he let go he would wake up and realize she had skipped away off into the darkness of the night to find someone who wasn’t as… broken, as he was.

Now, Jason, we aren’t marrying the woman, we are just showing her the meaning of the term “making love.” he reminded himself as he closed the bedroom door behind him turning to Faith who was looking up at him expectantly. Those large eyes blinking up through thick lashes.

Holy shit.

His heart was suddenly racing, those giddy feelings washing over him. That smile, it always did weird things to his head.

“So…” she started to say but he kissed her again, this time with more force.

“Shhhh, these are the rules. You let me know if I do anything that hurts you or makes you feel uncomfortable. If you like something go with it, you can say it or just moan, I’ll know. Let me do the work ok but if you want to try something say. And PLEASE,” he paused studying her, searching for that hesitation, “If you want to slow down or stop say it or just pull away. I won’t think any less of you if you. I want you…” he was rambling now. Running off the tracks… he couldn’t stop.

“Ok so now your just killing the mood.”

Her words cut him off with a jolt, bit of thrill went through him as he caught that spark in her eye, it was the same one she would get when they were about to do something stupid. Something crazy.

Something fun,

He kissed her again, this time deeper. His teeth slowly dragging across her lower lip. His rough hands slowly going under her shirt brushing against the bottom of her sports bra. Faith pulled away raising her hands so he could pull off her shirt. He did so before pulling off his own as well. Faith let her fingers run over his chest gently brushing over his scars. No hint of judgment in her eyes, use to these scars, may of her own littered her body.

Gently he scooped her up kissing her again. She was so light and small, her legs barely making it around his large torso. Her airy giggles sending shivers down his spine. Excitement. Those hidden feelings. The ones that he had tried to bury deep away, telling himself she was just his friend, just a partner burying away to pure excitement that this little (for lack of a better word) Angel was in his bed.

Pulling out a condom he places it next to him on the bed. Better not forget that. Then he turned his attention back to her.

She looked up at him from his sheets, eyes bright and excited. That beautiful smile. That mouth. Oh he was going to make her scream his name from that mouth. He was going to make her cum a million times laughing with pure pleasure.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered before his lips met hers.

“I’m going to kiss you” his lips met her jaw.

“I’m going to kiss you” her collarbone.

“I’m going to kiss you.” her bra

“I’m going to kiss you.” that little pink scar that ran across her rib cage.

“I’m going to kiss you” Her pants line.

His fingers gently undid the buttons of her pants. She had propped herself up on her elbows watching him.

“I’m going to kiss you here” his eyes never left hers as he kissed her pelvis. To his delight, her eyes fluttered and she took a sharp intake of air. Thrills, running down his spine at the sound. Now, what would she do if he went just a little lower…

“Oh…” pleasure, it was beautiful, just a soft sound escaping her lips. The power he had over her in the moment spent his mind into a spin. Oh, he was going to make this girl sing tonight.

“So you like that?”

She nodded mouth slightly open, “Again?” she muttered. His fingers danced over her core playing with the fabric of her panties causing her to grunt biting her lip. Unsure how to act to these new feelings he was giving her.

“Hummm I don’t know,” Jason hummed, “do you like how this feels better?”

“Yes? I… uh huh…” she was gasping now pupils blown wide as blood rushed to her core. She tried to thrust toward him but he stopped her with the flat of his palm pushing her into the bed. Digging into her getting another “ohhh” out of her before pulling fully away.

This earned him a soft disappointed whine.

And that whine, that was what did it for Jason. The power he had over this girl. What had happened to that confident Faith. The one who had headbutted him when she had thought he was the villain Red Hood. The little whirlwind who he had watched in awe charge into danger 5 times her size and take it down.

That Faith was a mumbling mess with a few touches.

He kissed her then, she kissed him back. Heated and ready. Pleading for him to continue and confused why he wasn’t.

Better not keep the lady waiting.

His fingers dove into her panties, gently sporking her entrance.

She choked in surprise “Wow Jason” his name, so soon and he had gotten his name in a broken moan. Honestly, her shock at his skills was such a beautiful stroke to his ego.

Much like the stroking, he was doing how.

“Yeah… hummmm” she was holding back slightly. Was his little chatterbox was trying to play it cool?

“Oh just let it out.” Jason said bringing a second finger to her core, “I want you to yell, moan, cry,”

“Ahhhh” she let out a cry of pure delight as he moved back and forth, “It… it feels so good…. Oh...ohhh.”

She was so wet. Oh so wonderfully wet.

He needed to get out of his pants. They were getting too tight. Those noises she was making. That squirming. The way her breasts were rising and falling. Oh god, Jason was HARD. His thick cock was throbbing against his leather pants begging to be set free.

Not yet friend. We are just getting started.

But that didn’t mean Jason’s bestie couldn't at least get a bit more… room.

Bending down Jason replaced his fingers with his mouth. His tongue delving into her folds.

And she let out the most beautiful moan, thrusting into him.

He could barely concentrate enough to unzip himself. The taste, so wonderful. He had always wondered while lying in bed alone playing with himself. Wondered if that pussy was as sweet as that laugh.

But it was better.

Once his cock was free he was able to concentrate on his little angel. Hands traveling up to her hips he pulled her forward forcing himself deeper inside her letting out a long moan as she got wetter in his mouth. Tongue stroking just the right places.

And then she laughed. Soft and breathy, pure delight. Hands going to his hair pulling on it slightly. Jason let out a moan of enjoyment letting her know he liked that. The sound vibrating through her.

“Ohh!” she squealed more giggles and she squirmed with pleasure. “That’s right little one,” Jason through as his hands moved up her sides, “Dance for me”

Hands reaching her bra as he continued on her pussy. Playing over the fabric for a moment he tried to think of a way to get inside that damn…

Faith’s hand moved from his head to her bra pulling it up over her boobs giving him full access.

Good girl.

Callous hands brushing over her nipples, getting more sounds, mixes of pleasure, giggles, and something else… confusion.

Interesting.

He pulled on her nipple and got the sound again.

Had this girl never had her tits played with before?

One more time.

“Yo… yeah.”

Ahhh there it was, she likes that.

Jason couldn’t help himself as he pulled away from her pussy giving her tits special attention with his fingers, “Do you like that too?” she nodded a slightly blissfully look on her face.

“Yeah, Jason… it’s really nice.”

“Hummm what about this?” he lazily licked her other nipple.

“Ohhh OH” his teeth grazed her and she let out a gasp. Pulling away he was about to ask...

“Again… please… can you do that? Harder?”

FUCK.

She was going to be the death of him.

He played with her as he moaned, “Yes, yes…. Yeahhh” He could have paid those beautiful breasts attention all night he didn’t get a soft hand on his shoulder.

“Can… Can I…” she was so out of breath. A giggling silly mess. He had done that to her. He had made her that way.

“Yeah Angel?”

“Can I maybe try sucking you?”

At the mention of maybe getting some special attention, his cock throbbed.

“Have you ever?”

She shook her head pulling away enough to look at it. He pulled himself up so he was kneeling, cock presented before her. Showing her what she had to deal with.

“You’ll tell me what to do?” she asked looking up at him large eye blinking up at him. She was doing it on purpose, he knew it. Those large eyes, that voice. Fuck him he wanted that mouth on his cock so bad while he bossed her around.

“Yeah, why not start by… oh FUCK.”

She giggled as her hands brushed up the length of it. He was more ready for her than he had thought. “Oh you got to warn a…. Hummmm” she ran her thumb over his tip causing him to moan and lick his lips.

“Yeah honey… that… now stroke down…. Oh yeah girl… like that… hummmmmm” He sighed eyes rolling back in his head as she pumped him. Back and forth.

“What if I…”

Jason’s breath hitched in his throat as she licked his lip. “Oh Fuck Faith! Yeah do that again…. More more more more.” shit it was like some horny teenager. What happened to him being the….

Oh

My

God

She had just taken him.

Sucking back and forth.

His head was spinning.

“Oh Faith, dear god.”

She giggled, adding to the pleasure. He was having a hard time focusing. No Jason not now. You can’t cum now. Oh her tongue was covering the rest…. Oh god…

His hips where trusting slightly, he knew she couldn’t take him yet but… he needed to get some control back before… before.

Oh those lips pulling out and back on. You beautiful little thing you, how did you get so dirty?

She was enjoying this.

He looked down at her and her eyes met his and he really did almost cum come. That glimmer in her eyes. Excitement.

His hand went to her pussy two fingers pushing into her pumping in and out.

She gasped in surprise pulling away for a moment “What…”

Using his free hand he pushed her down onto the bed. “J…. Jason?”

“I’m going to take you now,” he said pulling the condom he had grabbed earlier and slid it onto his dick. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yeah… please…. Ohhhhhhhhh”

His dick slid into her and his own moans matched hers. “Oh you feel amazing” he moaned.

“Yeah? Yeah….” she sighed as he slowly moved back and forth. In and out.

“Feel good?”

“Don’t stop… please” she begged moving with him “Hummm Jason….”

“Oh Yeah Faith….” he groaned “I want you to move at your pace. I want you to cum.”

“How…. oh that…”

“Yeah just follow the feelings. Feels good go with it. Ohhh you like that?”

“Yeah move like tha… oh Jason Oh oh oh.”

“Yeah take it, take my cock angel. Ride it.”

“Jayyyy” her voice dragged out eyes fluttering and rolling back. Her whole body lighting up with excitement “Oh that… yeah yeah yeah” breath getting lighting shallow. Hips moving deep. So deep.

Jason thrust hard and she let go “OH JASON” Crashing around him.

But he was already coming, so hard. “Yeah baby yeah. Oh man I’m cuming girl… Oh yeah Faith FAITH….” he fell onto of her gasping for breath as his cock throbbed happily inside her slowly coming down from the high.

Slowly he pulled out taking the condom off before throwing it away. Faith looking up at him. She was beautiful, hair mussed, eyes bright, lips swollen.

“That didn’t hurt at all.” She said, her huge mischievous smile spreading across her face.

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

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[topimagines]

Inferno

Violence

Summary:  Where do people go when they die? Well, for the least lucky people in the world, hell is waiting. But what happens when these people do go to hell? And how did you end up there?    

Warning: death, hell, mentions of religion, language, smut ish, its fucking long lol, i love brendon urie

A/N: do not repost any work on this blog without explicit permission from me or Alissa. also, in case anyone is curious, I’m an atheist. I also gave a birthday for y/n because it already had a lot of insert shit. and note my not so subtle allusion to tom holland and harrison osterfield.

Part 1// Part 2//Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6// Part 7// Part 8// Part 9// Part 10

You and Tyler finally reached the floor you were staying on, the penthouse of the apartment building. The living room was very large and open, the carpet almost too white to be possible. All of the furniture was golden yellow, including the appliances in the open plan kitchen. There were two giant doors on either side of the living room, and on the farthest side from the door, there was an entire wall of glass. There was an extravagant chandelier hanging overhead, casting a yellow light on the room.  

"Wow," you muttered, looking around the apartment.  

"Pete definitely helped fix up the place," Tyler said in awe, he had never seen such a beautiful room in Hell. You walked further into the room before taking a seat on the lavish gold couch. “He always was good at interior design.”

"I guess we should get comfortable, we could stay for a while," you said, "and you can fill me in on some of that 'need to know' crap."

"What do you mean?" Tyler asked, taking a spot on the couch across from where you sat. He obviously knew what you were talking about, he wasn't stupid. He knew you wanted history, and possibly an explanation of everything that had happened in the last three days.  

"Where is Josh, and what was he?" You asked, after a beat of silence.  

Tyler's eyes widened and he looked at you in disbelief. How the fuck does she know that? He thought to himself. He took a small breath before formulating a response, "I’m not answering that.”

“So you’re back to keeping secrets?” you asked, “bullshit, Tyler! You know so much about me, tell me what the fuck happened!”

Tyler took a deep breath before sighing, “okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. It started after that car accident I told you about, and after I made it through every circle.”

-

Tyler walked back into the club, the music only adding to his head ache. He had to cut through the dance floor to reach Brendon, the man sitting alone at the far end of the room. His white shoes and coat were covered in blood, but somehow that wasn’t the worst thing in the dance floor of the club.

“Ah! Tyler, my boy, it’s so nice to see you! Did you do as I asked?” Brendon greeted when he reached the table.  

“And then some,” Tyler answered, taking a seat across from the man in a plush, red booth.  

“I knew you could do it, I fucking hate politicians,” he said, sly smirk on his face, “now, I have one more job for you, then you’re home free for a few weeks.”  

“Yeah?”

“Your partner already knows all the details, he should be getting here about now,” Brendon said, “oh, look! There he is! Over here!” Brendon waved a man with yellow hair poking out from a hoodie walked over, the hood covering most of his face, but it was obvious he had a sly smile on his face, and a blade sticking out from under the waistband of the hoodie. He sat down next to Tyler and he took his hood off of the top of his head and showed his face.

“Josh?”

“Hi, Tyler,” Josh greeted. His smile wasn't the same as it used to be. Brendon seemed to be doting on Josh, bragging about his reinstatement and his natural skill that Tyler could tell was definitely not as natural as they were making it seem.  

A woman walked up to Brendon, a smile on her face, “Hey, baby. Is this them?”  

Brendon nodded, holding his arm out to lead the woman into his lap, “Gentlemen, this is my wife, Azrael.” Josh nodded in her direction and didn’t look her in the eyes, and Tyler said a small hi. “Azrael, this is Josh and Tyler.”  

“Ah, we’ve been waiting for you both.”

-

“Can I finish tomorrow, I’m tired,” Tyler interrupted his own story and scratched his head, not bothering to hide his yawn, “I promise, I’ll finish it in the morning.”

“It’s only seven o’clock, Tyler,” you complained, “at least tell me what the job was.”

“Then I can go to sleep?”

“yes,” you whine.  

“To take care of the overcrowding in Libitina.” You looked at him expectedly, waiting for him to further explain. But he was already laying back on the couch and pulling his hood over his head.  

Cool, leave me hanging... again.  

So you left the room, and went to bed.

-

You knew you were asleep, but you weren’t in the same spot Brendon first visited you at. You were at the entrance of a cemetery that you recognized as a very famous one in LA. You had visited it once or twice to see some famous graves.

“This is where I was buried,” a voice said. You turned and saw Brendon standing next to you with a blunt in his mouth and a black suit, as opposed to the red one you saw last time.  

“Really?”

“No, I was actually buried in Las Vegas,” he stated with a chuckle. Suddenly the scene in front of you was blurry and you were in front of another cemetery, not recognizing the entrance. “oh, I’m right over here.”

“So you’re basically the ghost of Christmas past?  

He chuckled, but didn’t say anything, only led you down a small trail and in front of a shiny, granite headstone. He took a long drag from his blunt and blew it toward the grave, somehow it felt like a sign of respect.

Brendon Boyd Urie

April 12, 1973- October 28, 1994

Loving Husband, Son, and Singer  

“My wife, well his wife, changes my headstone if it ever erodes too much,” he stated, “she is on the fast track to heaven, so I won’t get to see her. She’s the one that found me, after I dropped like a fly.”  

“Are all couples like that?” you asked, “one gets sent to hell and the other somehow never goes?”

“No, only the people you’ve met so far, sometimes both get sent to hell and they live out torture together, or they go to heaven,” Brendon explained, “And then there are the people who both go to purgatory and have a blast trying to get to heaven together. It’s like the ultimate team building exercise.” Brendon sat down at the feet of his grave, knowing that his body was decayed right under him.  

“How did you die?”

“Rock star lifestyle,” he sighed, “I was a bit of a partier, and one day I got involved in the wrong shit and my body couldn’t take it.” He turned to a random stone and put out the blunt, leaving it still sort of smoldering as he backed away.

The scenery changed once again, Brendon sat in front of you this time on a headstone, “You probably don’t recognize this place, but we’re in Ohio.” Brendon moved from the headstone and showed you the name on it.

Tyler Robert Joseph

December 1, 1987- June 5, 2007

Gone too soon. God bless his soul.

“He was never blessed,” Brendon laughed, “it’s a sick irony of dying, these people don’t know we’re down there, don’t know that most of the people don’t stand a chance.”

You looked at Brendon, his eyes clouded in something you hadn’t thought would be there, ever.  

Regret.  

“Brendon,” you started, “what happens when hell gets too crowded?” He whipped his head to look at you, surprised by the question. “And please be honest, I’m tired of people fucking lying to me down here.”

“If they have improved over time, they have a shot to get into purgatory,” he stated, “and if they do something horrible, even for Hell, the get sent to a place called Libitina. It’s like a prison for the damned to stay and rot.”

“What qualifies as that bad?”  

“Not a lot, sweetheart,” he said shortly, “we have one more stop, then you can ask all the questions you want.”

The scenery changed for a final time and you recognized immediately where you were. You wrote in your will that you wanted to be buried in a cemetery in London next to Tom. Brendon led you to the two fresh grave, grass not even grown on the patch of dirt the headstones were on.  

(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)

October 5, 1997- January 22, 2023

Forever resting with the love of her life

Thomas James Hosterfeld

June 1, 1996- January 22, 2023

Forever resting with the love of his life

“You got your wishes,” Brendon said, “you didn’t end up with him as your families had hoped, but I’ll tell you that he is on the third tier of Purgatory.”

“I’m glad, if anything, he deserves it,” you sighed. There was a silence between you and Brendon, and you took the moment to sit sown in the grass of the cemetery. Brendon let out a quiet chuckle and sat next to you, playing with the grass below his fingers. He took out another blunt and lit it up before inhaling the smoke.  

“Want a hit?” he asked. You shook your head, waving it away.

“Is this all? You’re gonna leave me to talk to Tyler?” you asked, lowly, “all he ever does is lie to me. He never tells me anything.”  

“Well, Tyler lies about a lot of things,” Brendon sighed, “he doesn’t like letting people in. But that’s his story to tell. It hasn’t always been in his favour.”

“Do you let people in?”

“If they let me in,” he answered. You looked over at him and saw him looking back at you. He leans forward and catches your lips in his, giving you a sweet yet hungry kiss. He was more tender than Tyler, taking his time to savour everything about your lips.  

He trailed his kisses down your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot on your neck. You let out a moan as he nibbled on your neck, rolling your head to the side to give him more access.  

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he said in your ear before biting lightly on your ear lobe.  

“How so?” you asked, cutting it off slightly with a moan as he attacked the collar bone peaking out from under your shirt.  

“I see everything, you and Tyler, the kissing, cuddling, and I hate seeing him touch you,” he said, moving his head to look you in the eye, “not when we keep having these times together at night, and he’s got you all to himself every day.”

“Then I’ll stop,” you said, “now touch me before I have to wake up and look him in the eye.” He laughed lowly, a cocky smirk appearing on his face.

“Sweetheart, you know I control these dreams. I can make them as long as I need,” he said. He reached for your hips and guided you to sit in his lap, his bulge evident as you ground down on him, “I can feel you soaking through those jeans, darling.”

“Then do something about it,” you groaned. You leaned in and nibbled just under his jawline, “do hickeys show when we wake up?”

“If you want them to, kitten,” he answered, rolling his head to the side to show more real estate as you sucked a hickey into his neck.  

“Good, wanna show everyone what I did,” you moan, grinding down harder on his dress pant clad cock. Brendon’s hand wandered down into your pants, and moved your underwear out of the way to feel your wetness. You moaned when his fingers brushed over your clit.

“So wet, from just kissing your pretty neck,” he said cockily, sliding his fingers into you and pumping slowly, watching you writhe on top of him. You groaned, and reached down to unbutton your pants and pushed them down as far as you could. Brendon noticed your struggle and pushed you down so you were laying on the ground under him.  

“be patient, my sweet girl, we have all the time in the world.”  

-

You laid with Brendon in the grass, your head laying in his chest. He put back on his pants and boxers, but let you have his shirt and jacket to cover yourself after he ripped your shirt.  

“Now I have to wake up without you there,” you said, tracing circles on his chest lightly, “what am I gonna say to Tyler?”

“You don’t have to say shit to him, sweetheart,” his chest rumbled as he spoke, “sure, you’ll wake up with my suit jacket and shirt on, but I set up that penthouse just for you. Say you found it in one of the drawers.”

“I’m covered in hickeys, Brendon,” you giggled.  

“you fell off the bed, you’re clumsy,” he laughed. You giggled and poked his chest with your nail.  

“Is it always gonna be like this when we reach you? Is that why you want me?” you asked.  

“It can be whatever you want and more, baby,” he said. He started sit up, holding you so you didn’t get hurt somehow. “It’s time to wake up now, babe.”

“But I want to stay here, with you,” you whined.  

“I know, but the sooner you wake up, the sooner you head out and you can see me at my club,” he said. He leaned down to kiss you before he stood up. Everything around you dissipated as he stretched his limbs.

“Will I see you again, next time?” you ask him as the wind picks up.  

“Of course, baby,” he said, turning around and kneeling to meet your eyes, “and remember, Tyler doesn’t touch you anymore, my lips are the only ones that can be on you.”  

“Bye, Brendon.”

-

You woke up in the big soft bed of the penthouse apartment, having a new appreciation for the soft sheets under your body and bunched in your hands.  

You swung your feet over the edge of the bed and stood to look at yourself in the mirror that was on the closet of the room. You were, indeed, in Brendon’s suit jacket and red button up, but it didn’t look too bad on you.  

In fact, you thought it was kind of cute.  

You made your way out of the room and saw Tyler sprawled out on the couch, snoring lightly. You walked over and poked him in the face, “Tyler, wake up.” You attempted one more time before turning on your heel and taking the first big thing near you, a metal abstract sculpture of a human, and dropping it on the floor. Tyler jumped awake and you looked at him innocently.  

“What the fuck?”

“Finish the story, no breakfast until then,” you stated. You sat on one of the couches and looked at him expectantly.  

“Alright, well, Azrael told us they were expecting us.”

-

“You two are going to Libitina to eradicate these people,” Brendon stopped paying attention to Azrael long enough to slide a manila folder over to the boys across from him, “then do what you want. But I want my blades back when you’re done.” Brendon went back to brushing his fingers through her hair lovingly, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, and kissing her neck.

“Obviously,” Tyler said, but Josh had a look on his face that made him uncomfortable. Something told him that he would be getting into trouble like he used to when they were alive and Josh wanted to go do something crazy.

-

“Then one thing led to another, and Josh started a rebellion that lasted half of a decade,” Tyler explained, “he was a hell hound in a humans body. The pure personification of evil, worse than that of the devil. He wanted to overthrow Satan and free all of the Damned into earth, heaven, and purgatory.”

“Is that all?” you asked, “Where is he now?”

“Libitina.”

“The place all the bad, bad people go?” Tyler never answered. He got up and went to take a shower, not before turning to you.  

“Want to come with me?” He held a hand out for you to take.

You thought for a second, knowing you promised Brendon that you would not start anything with Tyler. But it was Tyler, the man who was leading you through hell for nothing but pride, and had suffered so much. He opened up to you, even if it was poco a poco. So, you nodded with a broad smile and took his hand, letting him lead you to the big shower.  

-

You hardly expected to be reaching the most beautiful circle of hell. You didn’t know that there was such a thing. But, you and Tyler walked down a long gravel path with green grass on either side, a large creek came into view with a man leaning against the post of a magnificent bridge of dark wood and golden railings on either side. The man was shorter than the bridge and had a black hoodie that you swore was Thrasher brand.  

Hm, didn’t know they had brands in hell.

When you approached the man, you noticed that his body was covered from head to toe, including his hands, which were tucked comfortably into his pockets, and he had two feathered wings on his back, tucked so close together and compact, it was almost like he was hiding them from you.  

"That's Pete, he's a harpy," Tyler explained, looking toward the man expectantly, "He's probably here to help us through the rings of Violence."

He didn’t seem to be paying attention to you as you and Tyler walked up, his head parallel with the ground, not letting you see his face. When he finally heard your footsteps, he looked up, sending shivers down your spine with his yellow eyes. When he saw you, he stood up taller and rolled his shoulders out before putting his hands together and dropping them in front of him. A stark contrast from the red-scale eyes you had seen so far. When you took a closer look, you saw small tufts of feathers poking out of the bottom of the hood.  

"Hey," he greeted, looking between you and Tyler, and after a beat of silence, stuck his hand out to introduce himself, "I'm Pete, guardian of Violence. It's nice to finally meet you, my lady."

Tyler's eyes widened and he cleared his throat, hoping you wouldn’t notice his formality, "This is (Y/N), Pete. She's the girl Brendon wants."

Pete's expression matched Tyler's as he realized his mistake, "Oh, my bad. Thought you were someone else." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and waited for Tyler to reprimand him like he used to, but nothing ever came.  

"We should get walking now, we have three rings to get through at one time," Tyler said. Pete nodded and turned on his heel, leading you across the bridge. The bridge was way longer than you expected, but it the shortest ring of Violence, so you couldn’t complain about the creaking below your feet as you walked. One you had looked down, you saw creatures swimming up and down, and a large one that looked very scary. "That's Leviathan, he doesn’t like Acheron, so he stays here," Tyler explained.

"Oh cool, another hell creature I have to know about," you said, sarcastically, "what next, are there hellhounds?"

"Oh, they're in the circle Brendon occupies," Pete answered from ahead of you two, "He made them cuter."

-

You all walked in silence for what seemed like ages, walking across this bridge seemed easier than going through the other rings, but you knew it was too good to last. It was hell, after all. Tyler seemed to be walking on eggshells, any splashing spooked him, he refused to look up at Pete or at you and walked so cautiously that it seemed like he wasn’t even on the bridge with you. He seemed to be off in his own world.

Your mind, however, had started to wander. You thought about your life, trying to figure out what you did that sent you down here on this... adventure?

-

"You really shouldn’t do this, (Y/N)," Harrison said, "You love Tom, how do you think he'll react when he finds out?"

"It's just a girl, he won't care," you reasoned, looking up at Harrison with glassy eyes, your speech slightly slurred, "He has a girlfriend, if anything he should be thrilled! I'm finally getting some and forgetting about him!"

"There's a difference between forgetting about him and moving on,” Harrison muttered, “come on, (Y/N), let’s just go home and watch x-files.” He reached for your hand, but you pulled it away from him quickly and blew him off, claiming you were a big girl and you could take care of yourself.  

“I’ll be fine, Harrison,” you slurred, giggling at something in your head as a girl reached for you, equally as drunk, and started to drag you away, “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby! Don’t wait up! Get some while you’re here.”  

-

“(y/n), stop daydreaming,” Tyler said, breaking you out of your trance like state. You didn’t realize you were at the end of the bridge, and, in addition, the end of the first ring in violence. You looked ahead and saw, finally, the true reason the ring was called violence. There were people, the damned, running around picking raspberries as harpies flew over their heads, talons out, picking people up, clawing at their faces and hands.  

Pete didn’t stop, he continued to lead you toward a ginormous building, completely ignoring the pleads of mercy all around you. You kept your eyes down, looking at the path under your feet.  

When you looked up, finally, you saw the entrance to the building.  

“Libitina, in all her glory,” Pete said, his voice bored. The doors were already open, and it looked like someone forced it open.  

“Is it… supposed to look like that?” you asked. Tyler nodded, looking reminiscent.  

“A long time ago, someone broke out through the doors and Brendon never bothered to fix them,” he said. Suddenly, sirens rang through the air and both Pete and Tyler stood up straight, “now, that isn’t supposed to happen.”  

The boys charged in, leaving you at the door with a shocked expression. You had a feeling that you’d need to use Eveningstar. You ran in after them, but the place was far too big and you found yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time. You got lost in the winding halls, listening out for voices, but they were all drowned out by the piercing siren.

You were pulled into someone’s chest and a knife was held to your throat. A silver handle was held by a tan hand and you knew. Morningstar.  

“I suggest you keep that pretty little mouth shut, unless you want to disappear,” a gravelly voice said in your ear. He turned you toward two forms, Pete and Tyler. They writhed in their spots, trying to move but they couldn’t.

“How did this happen so fast?” Pete groaned.  

“revenge makes the damned powerful, Peter,” the man behind you laughed, “especially when the bitch that put me here is near.”

“What?” you asked.  

“Shut up, Muriel!” the man spoke.  

“That’s not Muriel, Joshua!” Tyler yelled, “Muriel would know better than to come back.”  

“Then why are you guarding her, who is she?” Josh said, ending with a laugh. He truly thought you were this Muriel person.

Angel. Demon. Whatever.  

Your mind reeled. Why would he thing you’re Muriel? Joshua held the blade harder against your throat, leaving you to gasp for breath without letting it cut into the skin. Joshua looked down at you, his gaze clouded with pain and loss, and when you locked eyes, he seemed thrown off. The sharpness of the blade eased up as he was sent into a whirlwind of old emotions.  

"(y/n)! Do you remember the view? Remember what you said when we looked out of Joe's window together?" Tyler said from his spot, locked in place. He couldn’t move his legs to reach you. Josh must have been practicing his biokinesis after all these years. You knew exactly what he was talking about. Azrael's blade was digging into your side in this compromising position.

"I said that you almost forget we're in hell for all eternity," you answered in a weak voice. You slid one of your hands away from the hand holding a knife to your throat and down your side to the shadow-casted blade. You unsheathed it and moved it from your side to slightly poke Josh's, "We were so enthralled, we didn’t hear Joe enter the room."

How did you know how to stab Josh with this blade without killing him?

You stabbed the knife into his side and felt the blade on your neck ease up. But, you moved too quickly and the blade dug into your neck and cut you. You fell on your side, landing next to Josh, facing him.  

Both you and Josh passed out. Tyler finally broke free and ran to you, pulling your body into his lap.

“No!”

-

“Hello, Gabriel,” you greeted the angel, smiling gently at him as he brought you in for a hug, “I missed you.” Brendon had crossed arms, watching you and his brother interact with each other. He never knew he could be the jealous type.

“I missed you too, Azrael,” Gabriel squeezed you tight before the hug ended and pulled away.  

“What’s this about you not taking the mistakes from limbo to purgatory?”  

“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Dad is being a pain lately, and forcing us to kill off forgotten souls.” Brendon rolled his eyes, of course his father would do that, he was never the most considerate ruler.  

You shook your head. Of course, he was trying to do that. Hell was starting to get crowded, you could only imagine what it looked like in purgatory and heaven.  

“More people are going to hell than ever, heaven isn’t even that full,” Gabriel explained, “We’re filtering all the people we can into heaven from purgatory but they’re moving slower than ever.”  

“I suppose this is means for revolution again?” you sighed. The last time there was a revolution in hell and purgatory, your son had died in the hands of your brother, Muriel. You could never be really mad at Muriel, he was doing what he thought was right, but now more than ever, you missed your dear Josh.  

“How? Last time I took care of all the revolutionists last time,” Brendon spoke up, taking your hand after he saw your face fall. Gabriel shrugged.

“There are two new souls coming, and one of them is going to start a revolution,” Gabriel looked you in the eyes, his golden orbs reassuring. However, it wasn’t reassuring enough, “One of them is Joshua.”

-

You groaned at the red light shining above your head.  

“What the fuck happened?” you asked. Tyler and Pete were sitting, having just seen exactly what happened. You looked down at your body, you were wearing the same red dress you saw in your dream.  

Nightmare? No, definitely not a nightmare.  

Memory.  

Josh came too soon after, looking at you with a hopeful sparkle in his eyes. It was quickly gone, however, when he realized it was no longer a dream.  

“Lady Azrael,” Pete said, moving to kneel.  

“I didn’t believe Brendon when he said it was you,” Tyler muttered.  

You stood up, a little unsteady on your bare feet, as opposed to shoes you were wearing, on the rough concrete. You stepped toward Josh, who was holding his side with on hand, and holding Morningstar in the other. You reached down and took your blade.  

Huh, maybe it did belong to you.

“You never know who you’re threatening,” you said. This act was coming so natural.  

“Go ahead. Finish me off, wipe me from existence,” Josh said, barely able to speak now, “you have to know that these wounds don’t heal.”  

You did know. Somehow. Maybe Azrael was telling you, deep down. But she was also begging you to not take her son, your son, away again. The pain was too much.

“I’m not going to finish you off, Joshua,” you said, squatting down to take both blades, the one in his hand and the one in his side, away from him, “I’m going to take this blade out of your side, and I'll heal you.”

“Why?”  

“What kind of mother would I be to leave my son lying, in pain.”

[ts-virgil-angst]

Story prompt of an old woman, and war and a fireplace

TW: none that i can think of just message me 

Word Count: 1591

Prompt: Alcohol changes everything. Even love.

Note: this takes place in a fantasy like world and if you need an explanations hmu

Logan and his sibling had been travelling for longer than he could remember.They had been running for so long, too long. As the winter had set in, thewar had followed. Logan remembered the slow way the soldiers came vividly. Theway the stores got shut down one by one. How the streets slowly becamedeserted. When the mornings became something to dread instead of something tolook forward to.

He remembered the day their parents were killed infront of him, how Patton had cried silently as Logan kept his hand clapped overtheir mouth to keep the sound.

Now, the two of them were walking east. He had heardof a haven for people like them. For kids without parents. And for magic usersthem.

“Logan?” Patton tightened their hold on Logan’sshoulders, as Logan readjusted them on his back. “Are we almost there?”

“We’re close, Patton.” Logan huffed, his breathcoming out in a puff of smoke. He wasn’t actually sure how close they were. He was going on a hunch after all. He couldn’tbe sure that there even was a haven after all, but that hope was the only thingkeeping him going.

There had to be something, though. There had to be. Magic users weren’t weak andfor the most part they were smart. Before the war, they had been ordinary citizens,most of which used their magic to help others. Like Kanikós, normal humans, there were goodand bad Gifted—it truly just depended on the person. But now…

A rustle to his right cut his train of thoughtshort. His heartbeat shot out of his chest as he slowed moving the side of the path,setting down Patton. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good news in the forest thislate at night.

Two men on horses slowed down next to them, gunsdrawn.

“The hell are you two doing out here?”

“Our home was burned down in a raid a few nights ago.We’re on our way to our cousins house.” Logan kept his eyes to the ground,careful not to look him in the eyes. Lawmen saw that as disrespectful and hecouldn’t risk them accidently glowing. His story wasn’t a total lie. Their housedid get burned down, but only after Lawmen killed their parents.

“I’m sure.” The one on the bigger horse dismounted, bootskicking up dust as he landed. “Eyes up boy.” Logan’s gaze flickered up for amoment, taking in the man’s face, clothes, his partner, the trees around them. Ithad taken time to be able to do this, but with the practice of being on therun, taking in his surroundings was nothing he wasn’t used to now.

The man shuffled his feet, taking a stronger stance.“I said: eyes up boy.”

Patton tightened their grip on Logan’s legs, shufflingtheir feet before looking up.

Two things happened as Patton looked up: the secondman dropped from his horse and Logan dropped, placing his hands flat on theground. His eyes glowed green as the earth opened up, dropping the two men intoa new hole in the ground. As an Earthen, he had a certain sway over the earth. Shewas happy to help any of her children and right now, Logan needed all the helphe could get.

As they fell, the Lawmen’s guns went off, clipping Patton’sshoulder. Patton’s eyes welled up with tears as they bit their lip to keep in theirscream. Their eyes were glowing yellow as they pressed their hand against thewound.

“You Goddamn, Heathens!” The men were jumping up,trying to get a grip on the side, but they were too sheer to grasp. Theyspouted curses, but Logan ignored them, carefully approaching the horse. If hewas lucky, then maybe they’d have to health supplies. Either way, maybe hecould win over the horse to make it easier for them to travel.

Logan held his hands up in a placating manner. He wentto the bigger horse first, watching for signs of distrust. After the gunshotwent off, both were skittish. One misstep and it took off, kicking up dust inits trail. He glanced at Patton, making sure their wound was covered. Pattonhad torn part of their coat and with a gust of wind, cleaned off the dust andwas tying it around their arm. It broke Logan’s heart to see this. Not that hewasn’t glad they couldn’t take care of it, but because they had to take care of it. They were tenyears old—too young to know how to take care of a bullet wound.

He turned back to the remaining horse, going slowerthis time. He didn’t have time to lament his sibling’s loss of innocence. The temperaturewas dropping, and they needed to put distance between them and the Lawmen.

This horse was thankfully less skittish. Horses,like most animals, understood that Gifted were different, but no inherently anymoredangerous than anyone else. Logan pressed his hand against its side, trailingalong until he reached the bag.

Logan sighed, almost ready to close up the hole he’ddropped the Lawmen in for their bags being so useless. There was only anothergun, some bullets, and a few Wanted flyers.

He managed to mount of horse with little fight fromthe steed. A few calming words and he was able to lead her toward Patton. With oneheft, he pulled Patton up on the horse with him. Patton leaned back against Logan’schest, still pressing against the wound.

“You’ll pay for this, Heathen!” The men cried. “We’llget out of here and then we’ll kill you. Both of you!”

Patton lifted one hand slightly, blowing some snow ontop of the men. They very rarely used their powers as an Ether, but now they weremore inclined to use them.

“That will fix itself in an hour.”

“You bastard! We’ll freeze out here.”

Logan whipped the reins. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

- - -

“Logan, are we there yet?”

“There’s a house up there. We can ask if we can staythe night.” It had been a month since they’d run into those Lawmen and sincethen they’d almost managed to hide again. Almost.

In the woods once again, they were off the trail inthe hopes of avoiding attracting attention. There was nothing they wanted morethan to just stop. Stop moving, stop hiding, stop being scared to turn acorner.

The only good thing was that he had grown betterinto his powers, using the earth to track safe places to stay—even they onlylast a short while.

As they trotted up to the small cottage, Loganchecked around the place again. The earth had never steered them wrong, but hecould never be too careful.

Patton slid off, patting the horse they’d affectionatelynamed Remy, while Logan dismounted and brushed off his clothes and hair. Beforehe could even approach the door, it opened viciously, an old womanframed by the light of the room.

“Who the hell are you two?”

Patton tensed, standing closer horse, but notbacking down. Logan stepped forward. “We have nowhere to go. I was hoping that perhapsyou could help us. Shelter us for the night.”

It was hard to make out her features from her shadowysilhouette. “And why the hell would I do that? How do I know you’re not Heathens?”

Logan gritted his teeth as he always did but managedto keep his civil tone. “Our house was burned down by them. If you won’t takeus both, at least take my brother.”

“But Lo—”

“It’s fine, Pat. I’m fine.” It wouldn’t have beenthe first time the two of them were split for the night.

The woman stared at them, eyeing both cautiouslybefore stepping aside. “Get in here both of you. Can’t have the heat escaping.”Patton led the horse to the side of the cottage, tying him before grabbingtheir things.

“Thank you for keeping us, ma’am.”

“Not a ma’am, kid.” She shut the door behind them. “Justcall me Joana.”

“Thank you, Joana.” Patton set down their things bythe door as Logan surveyed the place. It was one large room with a kitchen/dinningroom on the left and a bedroom/living room to the right. Two couches wereacross from the bed and a hearth sat between them. “I could start the fire, ifyou’d like.”

“No, no. I can take care of it.” Joana winked, eyes flashingred lighting the fireplace. He and Patton froze for a moment as shesaid, “Like recognizes like.”

“But how did— We were—” Logan was at a loss for words.There were so many emotions going through him, but the only thing coming forwas anger. How did she figure them out when he had been so careful as to not doanything that would make them seem different?

“Don’t worry, hun.” Joana moved to the kitchen,opening up a cupboard and taking out three teacups, grinning. “When you’re oldlike me, you get great at recognizing someone on the run. Can I know your names,dears?”

Patton looked at Logan, and though he knew they weretrying not to, hope was working its way into their features. Perhaps they weren’twrong to have some kind of…positive thoughts about her.

“Logan Sanders and my sibling, Patton.”

Joana held out her hand. It was pleasantly warm. “Niceto meet you, dear.”

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