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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

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"...So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 2*

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Man we just skipped the happy fun times here and went straight into the fire, didn't we? Zero to hundred REAL quick.

What can I say guys, writing is therapy. And I have a lot of demons.

Eventually we'll get some fluff....eventually. Maybe.

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@storiesofsvu

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Rafael went to his car and began to think. He had to trust you would listen to what you said, if you loved him like he loved you, you would. But the thought that terrified him more than losing you right now was that William Lewis was back, and on the loose. He dialed Liv’s number as he sped back towards New York City.

“Liv,” He said very seriously as soon as she answered. “He’s back. Lewis is back,”

Meanwhile

You started to pull yourself together when you heard a small noise from the corner of the room. You saw Maggie standing there with her mouth open.

“Oh baby--” You stood up and walked over to her.

“Why was he saying that, mom?” She had lost her sassy demeanor, and was now just a scared little girl.

“I…” You put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know, baby girl,”

“I bet it’s because he’s jealous,” She scoffed, now resuming her angry flippant self. “He’s jealous dad is a better dude than him. I don’t know why--”

“We are not getting into this again, Margaret,” You used her full name, letting her know you meant business.

“You don’t…” Maggie paused. “You don’t believe him, do you mom?”

“What?” You blinked, trying to decide whether or not to answer honestly. Her big doe eyes looked at you, begging you to confirm that her dad was the man she thought he was.

“...No, of course not sweetie,” You shook your head and pulled her into a huge hug.

But you weren’t entirely sure at all.

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

The Next Day In The SVU Office

Rafael and the squad had been working all night since he had made the call to Olivia. The squad room was now full of a corkboard full of all of William’s aliases, past transgressions, etc. Except now your name along with Maggie and Kylie’s names were added on a side stem, with “Billy Loomis?” written above it.

“So, you’re sure this chick hasn’t been helping William this whole time? Helping him hideout?” Fin asked Barba.

“What?” Rafael gasped. “No, not at all. No way,” He shook his head violently. “She didn’t even know who he was,”

“....Mmmhmm,” Fin gave the others a look.

“Look Fin I didn’t come here to here you insult my girlfriend--”

“Your girlfriend?” Nick asked. “Didn’t you say she kicked you out?”

“I don’t care, when she realizes--”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Olivia chimed in. “What if she does try to help him now?”

“Olivia!” He looked at her in betrayal. “Come on, you don’t think--”

“You said that he already convinced her to kick you out by just a few words on the phone,” Olivia pointed out. “Now that he knows you two are involved he is gonna try like hell to drive that wedge further and further,”

“But he won’t be able to if she finds out who he is,” Rafael rebutted.

“But if she won’t look, she won’t know,” Olivia stood her ground.

“She’ll look,” Rafael reiterated. “I know she will,”

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

Back at your house

It was late at night, the girls were asleep and you were on your phone in your bed with a bottle of wine. You had brought a glass to bed with you, but you were drinking straight out of the bottle.

What Rafael said yesterday was eating at you. But what was eating at you more was the fact that you were starting to believe him over the man you had shared your life with for almost a decade, a man who you had two children with.

You looked at your phone which had your text thread with Rafael pulled up on it. You went through all the texts you had ever sent. The late night conversations, the little texts in the middle of the day just to say he missed you. He was so good to you, he always had been. He would never lie to you...would he?

You closed the text thread and opened up GOOGLE. You looked to the sky and asked God to forgive you for betraying the father of your children like this; but it had to be done. You typed in the name “WILLIAM LEWIS” and hit “SEARCH”.

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

At Rafael’s Home

Rafael was staring at the text thread between you from his own phone, rubbing the screen with his thumb. He wanted so badly to call you, but he knew he needed to trust you to do this on your own. Plus, he was sure you wouldn’t answer if he called anyway. While he was staring longingly at his phone, it lit up:

UNKNOWN NUMBER CALLING

He had a pit of dread forming in his stomach, but he answered the phone anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello there, counselor,”

“How did you get this number?”

“My lovely wife gave it to me, obviously,”

“You’re lying,”

“Am I?”

“Yes, she wouldn’t do that,”

“Oh really?” He chuckled darkly. “You really think she cares about you that much?”

“I know she does,”

“Well, you know that’s really unfortunate for you, because you won’t see her or my kids again,”

“Why are you doing this?” Rafael asked. “Why do you even have a family? What are you going to do with them?!”

“What?” He laughed. “Nothing, counselor. I assure you,”

“Bullshit,”

“No actually, it’s not,” William explained. “Y’know after I had my little...adventure, in New York. I went off the grid. Wanted to live a normal life for a little while. And then I met Y/N,”

“Uh huh..” Rafael listened impatiently.

“And then I fell in love with her, and we had two beautiful girls. And I love those girls more than anything in this world, Barba,” He explained.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Rafael spit. “You don’t know how to love,”

“Believe it or not I do,” William smirked. “I just...don’t show it in a normal way,”

“Right,” Rafael rolled his eyes.

“Hey, look,” William defended. “I was in love with Y/N for a while, I really was. And then--”

“Then what?”

“Then, she got a little naggy,” William shrugged. “She got on my nerves, and I got that itch again,”

“That itch?”

“Y’know, that...itch,”

“You wanted to kill her,”

“I did,” William admitted. “But I figured killing mommy wouldn’t be something I could get past the kiddos, so I scratched that itch in other places,”

“She did say you travelled a lot…’for work’,” Rafael recalled a conversation he had about him before with you one time, in passing. If only he knew what he knew now.

“Yeah,” William chuckled to himself.

His ‘work’ was quite extensive. And it was exhausting trying to lead a double life, but he was being honest when he said he loved his girls. He really did. He loved them more than anything or anyone he had before, maybe ever. He’d never let anyone hurt them...or turn them against him.

“Anyhow,” He continued. “Y’know I may not be in love with Y/N anymore, but you know what I hate?”

“What?”

“People touching my things,” Lewis growled.

“She is not a THING, Lewis. She’s not even yours anymore,” Rafael yelled.

“See I know you’ve never been married Barba, so maybe you don’t understand this,” Lewis lowered his voice to an eerily calm manner. “But when you marry someone, in front of God and everyone you love, it creates a bond. An everlasting bond,”

“Oh give me a break--”

“And that bond, cannot be broken. ‘Till death do us part,”

“...Are you threatening her?” Rafael was vibrating with rage.

“No, of course not counselor,” William replied innocently. “However, if you were to help her break those vows….I might be forced to,”

“Excuse me?”

“Until death do us part, Barba,” William repeated. “That means either she stays faithful to me, or I’ll have to kill her,”

“Don’t you DARE touch her Lewis, do you hear me?!” Rafael’s blood was boiling.

“Well I won’t have to, as long as you leave her be,” William replied calmly.

“....You won’t get away with this,” Rafael growled.

“Oh I think I will,” William smirked. “Because if you send anyone after me, she will die,”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Rafael growled. “You just said your kids would--”

“So maybe mommy gets in a car wreck on the way home, or God forbid robbed in a parking lot!” Lewis taunted Rafael with an evil laugh.

“You’re the fucking devil, you know that?”

“Maybe, but I know I’m a man who gets what he wants,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ll let you go Barba, I know you’re a busy man. And remember, I’ll be watching!”

And with that he hung up on Rafael.

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

Almost immediately after hanging up with Lewis, Rafael’s phone lit up again.

Y/N CALLING

“Holy shit…” He blinked in disbelief at the phone. How did you know?

“...Y/N?”

“Rafa,” You tried to keep yourself from crying, you couldn’t wake up the girls. “Rafa I...I saw William Lewis,”

“Oh god,” Rafael put a hand over his head. “Baby, I am so, so--”

“No, I’m sorry,” You cut him off. “I should have listened to you, I should have googled him, not kicked you out,”

“You didn’t know…”

“No but you did, and I should have trusted you. That’s what you do when you--” You paused, never having had said it out loud before.

“....When you what?” He waited with bated breath.

“When you love someone,” You bit your lip, hoping it wasn’t too late to say.

“I knew it,” He smiled to himself. “I knew you loved me. I knew he was full of shit,”

“What do you mean he?” Your eyes quirked.

“Shit,” Rafael realized he misspoke. “Um, well--”

“He called you, didn’t he?” You asked.

“...He said you gave him my number,” Rafael confessed.

“I didn’t, I swear to God Rafa I didn’t,” Tears stung your eyes. “I-I don’t know how he--”

“It’s fine, carino,” He assured you. “He has his ways, I know that,”

“Okay…” You said softly, not really sure he believed you. Damn Billy. Damn him to hell.

“Speaking of ‘his ways’--,” Rafael added with an uncomfortable clearing of his throat.

Oh God. What was he going to say?

“He...we…” Rafael tried to get the words out, he really didn’t want to say them out loud.

“He what, Rafael?” You pressed him.

“He said that I can’t see you again,” He closed his eyes as the words fell out of his mouth.

“What?” You nearly dropped the wine bottle all over your sheets.

“I can’t--” He started to repeat himself.

“No,” You cut him off. “No that is not--” There was no way in hell Billy was going to keep you from Rafael, not now.

“He said he would kill you, Y/N,” Rafael said very pensively.

“Well why hasn’t he done it already?!” You raised your voice, quickly looking to the door to make sure the girls hadn’t heard you. They hadn’t.

“He said your kids wouldn’t forgive him, and he really does love them,” He relayed what Lewis had told him.

“Ugh,” You gagged. “I can’t believe that son of a--”

“Y/N I believe him,” Rafael interjected.

“About what?”

“All of it,” He sighed. “I...I think he really does love your daughters,”

“...Really?”

“Yeah, he said that’s why he left. He wanted to scratch his...itch, somewhere else,”

“Oh my god…” You wanted to vomit thinking about all the “business trips” Billy used to take. If you only knew what kind of “business” he was in.

“...And I also think he’ll be good on his word of having you killed,”

“Having me killed?” You snorted. “By who?”

“Guys like him, they know plenty of...dark people,” He rubbed his eyes, he was getting a headache from all of this worrying. “He probably has people watching your house right now,”

“No, there’s no--” You looked out your window and down the street. Nothing looked out of place, but now you were paranoid. “...There’s no way, I would notice. I’m pretty sure,”

“Look we may be worried about nothing,” The idea just occurred to Rafael’s mind.

“Nothing? Really?” You laughed sarcastically.

“Well look, if Lewis thinks that you believed him over me, just...just keep him thinking that,” He hated the idea of you pretending to still...like, Lewis but he needed you safe.

“You want me to just go about my life like I don’t know my ex-husband is a psychopath?!” You hissed, really attempting to keep your voice down. The girls definitely could not hear any of this. Ever.

“Just for now,” Rafael assured you.

“Do you really think he’ll think I chose to believe him over you?” You twirled your hair nervously.

“Well, I mean you didn’t--” He paused. “You’ve never mentioned me before, maybe he’ll just think we were a...a fling or something,”

“I was introducing you to my kids!” You cried. “I think that’s a little more than a fling,”

“Okay fair point,” Rafael shook his head. “But, it would make perfect sense that you would just believe him at his word that I was the bad guy, right? He’s the father of your children, I’m just some guy you were having sex with for a few months,”

“No you aren’t,” You bit back tears hearing him drag your relationship like that. “You know you’re more than that,”

“I mean for the sake of the lie, amor,” He said with a somewhat endearing tone. He liked the fact that you made sure he knew that was a bunch of shit.

“I guess,” You shrugged, still not liking the idea of having to shit on what you and Rafael had. Even if it was just acting. But you had to, for your life. And for your children’s lives.

“Rafael, what if he suspects something? What if he kidnaps the girls?” Your mind was racing with worst case scenarios.

“Y/N I’m telling you, if you just play it cool, he’ll never think anything else about this,” Rafael tried to comfort you through the phone, but he knew it was somewhat fruitless without him being able to touch and hold you.

“....And I’m just supposed to live like this?” You felt tears in your voice. “Just...just never see you again? After I just told you I--”

“Just for now, mi vida,” He tried not to to start crying himself. He had to be the strong one here. “Just until I can-- figure something else out,”

“...I just want you here,” You whimpered.

Your whimpers pierced his heart like a million knives. All he wanted in that moment was to be next to you, holding you while you cried. Protecting you with his life. But he knew in reality, this was how he had to protect you. And your girls.

“I know…” He nodded his head, a few tears dropping down his face. “I just want to be there,”

“...I-I need to go, it’s late. The girls will be getting up for school soon,” You wiped tears from your own face, putting the wine bottle back in your side table.

“Alright, mi amor,” He said softly, not really wanting to hang up. He didn’t know when the next time he’d be able to hear your voice was going to be, and he wanted every second he had left with you.

“Don’t…” He bit back the sobs in his tone. “Don’t call me, or text me. Wait for me to contact you, okay?”

“What?” Your voice went up a register higher. Now you didn’t want to hang up with him, if he was going to ghost you like this. “No, Raf please, we haven’t--”

“I know,” He rubbed his eyes. “I know we’ve never not talked for even a day, I know. And it’s going to kill me, just know that. You’re my best friend, Y/N,”

“Really?” You blinked in surprise. “Even over Olivia?”

“...Don’t tell her,” He cry-laughed. He knew that would be the last time he laughed for a while.

“You’re my best friend too, Rafael,” You were really crying now. “Ever since I met you, you’ve made my life better. And now I’ve gone and fucked it--"

“Hey,” He stopped you with a stern tone. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong here, you understand me? That’s-- that’s not why I’m cutting you off, okay? I’m not punishing you, please know that,”

“...I know,” You replied in a soft voice, almost like a little girl scared of the dark.

“Okay, good,” He breathed in relief. He couldn’t live with himself if you blamed yourself for this mess.

“I promise-- I swear to you, as soon as I think it’s safe I will come straight to you,” He promised. “The very second,”

“Okay,” You nodded in a more controlled, mature tone. You had to be strong now, you didn’t want him to think you were a blubbering idiot without him. You had survived three long years on your own, you could do it again. You hoped.

“I love you, Y/N,” Rafael repeated it for the third time that day. You wished you could record it and play it over and over again, falling asleep to it.

“I love you too Rafael,” You sniffled.

“...Talk soon,” He said softly, then hung up before he could change his mind about the whole thing.

You both cried yourself to sleep that night.

#rafael barba #rafael barba angst #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #law and order svu #william lewis #william lewis imagine #william lewis x you #william lewis x reader #william lewis fanfiction #angst

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daydream-believin · 3 years

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What About the Smaller Picture (3)

Summary: Merlin knows best. And what he feels is best for you and Douxie right now is to sit around and wait for him to come back from New Jersey, Merlin-knows-when. (3) You’ve adjusted to Arcadian life pretty well. (1) or (4)

Warnings: Swearing, sleep problems?

Word count: 2474

A/n: sorry this wasnt out sooner I’ve had a week

The curtains were blue. They had a little pattern of navy and white flowers and curvy lines like pottery painted with indigo. You had moved one of Doux’s bookshelves to be the second wall to allow the curtain rod to even be in place. This layout effectively created a nook of sorts around your little bed. To be frank the curtains weren’t absolutely necessary. The space kinda gave you university dorm vibes with the two twin beds across from each other. But there was no way you were letting this guy you barely knew watch you sleep. Even if you were good friends, you wouldn’t let him watch you sleep. That kind of vulnerability was special, reserved for only those closest to you.

Speaking of closeness, Douxie had been very adamant about you not calling him by his full name anymore. Made him feel like you were reprimanding him, he said. You could relate to the feeling, and so you were now being careful to replace all ‘Hisirdoux’s with ‘Douxie’s in your head. Or at least a ‘Doux’. Not ‘Babe’. Who told you that. You definitely never referred to him as Babe in your mind. Nope. That Is Not Something Friends Do.

“And,” Douxie rubbed the back of his neck, “Normally when people call me Hisirdoux nowadays it’s because they want to kill me. Only strangers and enemies call me that. Or Zoe when she’s pissed. So yeah, just Douxie is fine.”

“Just Douxie?”

He chuckled, “Yeah.” You looked up at him with a smile.

“Douxie.” He flushed, nodding. “Well, Douxie, what do you want for dinner tonight.”

That little nook you’d built hadn’t stopped Douxie from trying to talk to you all night, however. You’d think the curtains would be a clear message of don’t talk to me I want to be left alone but Doux hadn’t really taken that hint. You tried your best to brush him off the first few nights, even pretending to fall asleep. It didn’t stop him. By the fourth night you spent in Arcadia, you gave in. You had trouble sleeping anyways, as it was apparent so did your roommate, so might as well indulge him. It’s not like ignoring him did any good. Instead of staring at a blue-light screen that messed with your circadian rhythm, you talked about nonsense with Doux. And it was good nonsense. He was way too funny. Or maybe it’s that thing where if you’re into someone then everything they say is hilarious. You’ll never know. But it was nice, either way.

The funny thing was that not only did you actually start to like this, but now it was becoming hard to sleep without it. He helped. Your whole life you stayed up late, and then tossed and turned all night anyways. Now your bedtime routine was talk to Douxie for a few hours, slowly falling asleep, and then you’d sleep the whole night through like a baby. No more restlessness. No more waking up over and over again. Even if you did, you could just listen to him snore for a bit and fall right back to sleep. You guessed it was the feeling of safety he provided. Like someone was watching over you, even when you were at your most vulnerable. You’d never really had that luxury before.

You had started noticing the trouble coming back when he would stay out late sometimes. And Douxie was gone one night and you suddenly couldn’t sleep at all. This was bad. A problem, if you will. But no matter. There were more pressing things to worry about.

Like the fact that all week, Douxie had been hinting that he had something you two were going to do soon. He would not tell you what it was. In fact he was taking quite a bit of joy in dangling this “surprise” in front of your face but not telling you anything about it. It was driving you a little crazy. You hoped what he had planned was nothing too wild, though. It’s not that you weren’t down, you were just tired. But you could use a little shaking up. This bookshop existence was boring. You weren’t boring. You had enough crazy stories to last an immortal lifetime from growing up in New Jersey. Not just modern-day Urban New Jersey. Early colonial Quaker-dominated New Jersey was wild too. Especially as one of those infamous New England witches. Maybe Douxie was taking you on some magic errand. That would be great, you were dying to do something actually in your job description ever since you got here. Not that working in the bookshop wasn’t nice, it just wasn’t magic. You were craving magic.

But alas, as the sun was setting and the last patrons left the store, life moved on as mundanely usual. You flipped over the sign, scratched a sunbeam bathing Archie behind the ears, and started the process of re-shelving all the damn books that customers left strown about. The sunset turned the bookshop pink. There were fewer cars rushing by. Now that there were no customers, it was very peaceful. Just you, Archie’s snoring, and the soft lute music playing. The music was lute covers of popular songs, and at this point you were pretty sure it was Douxie himself who recorded this shit.

Speaking of Douxie, you hadn’t seen him all day. It had made working the bookshop extra extra boring. Like if he wanted you to be free labor, he could at least give you the decency of his lovely presence. But no, it was just you, all day long. All by your lonesome, with nary a cute theater-kid adjacent wizard to keep you entertained with his company. It was a travesty really. But anyways, where was he. Better not be having fun without you.

You like to think your thoughts summoned him. He came in through the back door, panting, disheveled. Singed? He frantically looked out the door’s window into the alleyway from which he had just came from, looking for something. Whatever it was, he must have seen it, since he looked panic-stricken. In a painfully obvious attempt to swallow the fear, he turned to you, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“SO. You know that thing? The surprise? Well. It is here a little sooner than I expected it to bE—” A loud crashing noise came from the alleyway. “Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

You dropped the book in your hand. “WHAT DID YOU DO.”

There was another very loud crash, this time closer. Douxie glanced back for less than a moment before rushing over to you, taking you hand.

“I’ll just have to tell you on the way love, come on!”

You two fled out the front door of the shop like your tails were on fire. Speaking of tails on fire, once you rounded the shop to the alleyway, you found out just what Douxie had been running from that was making such loud noises. Hellheetis. Five large hellheetis. Blazing bright in the Arcadian dusk. How the neighbors haven’t already called the cops or the fire department was a mystery. The large lion-like creatures growled, stalking down the alley. It was only a matter of seconds before they smelled and or spotted you and went back into the chase. You had to make a plan and fast. Distracting you from your thoughts, Douxie nervously laughed beside you.

“hehe, uh, could you believe there was only one of these at the start?”

You slowly turned to the wizard, “Did you,, hit them, Hisirdoux?” You could call him that now because you were in fact pissed off at the moment.

“Only twice.”

“Only twice… Okay”

“I may not be the best at monster identification. Or remembering which tactic to use for which.”

“I can see that.” You tried to keep your voice as calm as you could, which got a little easier to do as the hellheetis turned down a different alleyway, putting some more distance between them and you. They were still searching though, that was apparent. Thankfully the stench of the alley trash was keeping you covered.

“Believe me, Archie gets onto me about this all the time.”

“It’s okay… just. I think I have a plan. But one of us has to be bait. And it’s going to be you.”

“That’s fair.”

You sprinted up the stairs of the bookstore and up through the ceiling hatch onto the rooftop. You first instinct was to get them to the center of the square, where you could use the fountain as a water source. The alley they had started going down opened up to the square anyhow. It would have been a straight shot. But dear Mr. Casperan made a fuss about that being too out in the open or whatever.

Next solution. The bookstore’s rooftop had a facet, Douxie told you. You’d like to imagine it was put there so some nice old lady could have had a sweet rooftop garden without too much hassle. Maybe you should start a sweet rooftop garden. You and Douxie could have a little oasis in the city up here. You could grow veggies and flowers for your table. Maybe make a cute little picnic area. Stargaze at night. The facet. You quickly found it and made work of turning it on. Or at least you tried your best. You could hear roaring, getting louder, getting closer. The scary growls and roars were punctuated by Douxie’s frantic footsteps, grunts, and gasps. Please don’t get eaten, Douxie.

The facet was so rusty, it took all of your strength to get it to budge. And then nothing came out really, the hose attached to it lifeless without so much as a trickle. You tried to unscrew it from the facet to see if there was a problem and the metal part of the hose disintegrated in your hand. Okay. No water was in fact coming out of that facet.

Imaginary sirens rang in your ears. You had to get water, fast, or your partner was gonna be kit & kadouxle. Hellheeti chow. Growl mix. Douxies. Fiery feast. The big cats were gonna eat him okay. After managing to get the facet turned as fast as you could, fueled on pure adrenaline, and still getting little to no water, you made a judgement call of fuck that. Magic time. To be completely frank here that should have been what you had done in the fucking first place, but hey, fear dulls the mind.

Gathering up as much water as you could, like, metaphorically feel in the pipe, you pulled that shit out with all your might. Aaaannddd because of this you may have not actually remembered that you would need to catch said water in order to, you know, use it. Instead of a nice bubble to be used at your discretion, a magic roof-water tidal wave washed over you and over the side of the building into the alley below. Thank your lucky fucking stars that Douxie just so happened to have gotten the fire felines to the right spot in time. The uncontrollable rain rushed down, dissipating the hellheetis, soaking Douxie darling, and flooding not only your alley but all the alleys connected to it. Holy shit, stop it! STOP IT! It took a second, but you did finally get the river to stop pouring out of your rooftop. Fingers crossed there were no basement windows open and all your neighbors had flood insurance. And that no one saw. Can’t be connected to you if no one saw right. Shhhhhh.

You peered over the ledge to see if Douxie was alright down below. He looked like a cat caught in the rain himself. You probably did too. Douxie’s soaked bangs covered his eyes. Nevertheless, he was able to see you up on the ledge and gave you a thumbs up. You awkwardly returned it.

Toweling off your hair, and now in nice dry pajamas, you walked out of the bathroom to join Douxie on the couch. His own hair towel hung around his shoulders. You took a moment to enjoy how cute he looked all ready for bed, cozy in the blankets on the couch. And that semi-wet hair was looking pretty nice too. You only allowed yourself to linger on this for that moment however, as you remembered you were supposed to be mad at him right now. You crossed your arms as you approached the wizard.

“SO, dearest Hisirdoux, may I have the decency of getting to ask the question, WHY.”

“Funny story really.”

“Really?” You raised a brow

“Really.”

Douxie fidgeted with his hands. You watched this little nervous gesture intently as you sat down next to him. He took a deep breath before beginning,

“First thing. You’ve been here for some time now, and I thought it was enough time for me to start sharing my little, er, excursions with you,” Douxie’s face flushed a little, “I like monster hunting, and now that I know that I like you, I thought I’d like it more if I brought you along with me?”

Your face was flushed a little too now. “Hey, stop it, I need to be mad at you.” Yeah well the smile you wore gave up any pretense of that. Sorry.

“I didn’t know how familiar you were with monsters or how skilled at fighting you were, so I decided to go get some test monsters from Mervin the Monster Dealer, just to make sure our first time would be safe. FIRST TIME MONSTER HUNTING TOGETHER.”

You stifled a chuckle. “And you didn’t just ask me?”

“It was supposed to be a cool surprise okay.” He buried his face in his hands.

“… Hellheetis?” Safe monster your ass.

“Yes, I mean no, I- Mervin sold me the wrong thing alright. I thought I was buying those cute little fire sprite things you can easily just put out with your boot.”

This time you did not hold back that laughter. And you laughed, and Douxie laughed, and soon both of you were uncontrollably cackling until you were out of breath. Archie came in to see what the commotion was about and then promptly turned back around to go back to his spot in the window. You clutched your chest, still cracking up despite the lack of oxygen. Douxie wiped some tears from his eyes you were sure hoping were just from laughing too hard. You rubbed a hand on his back.

“So, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. How bout movie night?”

Douxie’s tired eyes smiled at you, “Yeah, I think that would be lovely.”

“Hey, I had a good first monster hunt, Douxie. Thank you,” You pulled your cold feet up under your legs, “But could you stop hogging the blankets!”

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x y/n #tales of arcadia x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #Douxie Casperan x reader #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie #my writing #watsp

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oddaodd · 4 years

Text

Concern in Painting

· Tommy Shelby snaps at his wife´s concern ·

Warnings: A bit of angst.

The sound of the car pulling up the driveway and the lights that shone through the window at such an unholy hour at night indicated his arrival. She hadn’t meant to stay awake so late, but her concern for him had been on the rise and it chased her sleep away. A few moments later she heard the sound of his footsteps making their way his study shortly after the sound of the main door closing shut. Y/n sighed deeply. Business was booming and it took a toll on him. Y/n painfully watched as he deteriorated without daring to interfere, knowing that Tommy needed to keep his mind busy as much as he needed to breathe. Nevertheless, she thought enough was enough, she couldn’t just stand by leaving him to deal with everything on his own. She put away her paint and brushes and gave one last look (for the night) at the painting she had started at the dawn that night´s insomnia. She then went downstairs to the kitchen to get some biscuits, knowing that it was more than likely that he hadn’t eaten all day. She silently walked to his study and allowed herself in without pausing to knock.

“Hi” she softly said, not wanting to commit sacrilege by disrupting the peaceful silence that filled the room.

He looked up to see her for just a second and then resumed writing what y/n assumed were letters, merely muttering a “hello” of his own.

Y/n made her way to the side of his desk and placed the plate of biscuits next to the glass of whiskey that was always a staple wherever he was, before perching herself on the desk.

“You need to eat something, love. The maids baked these earlier today”

“Thanks” he said, eyes still glued to his writings, not really paying attention to anything she had said.

She quickly eyed what he was writing, not because she was nosy, but because it had been so long since Tommy had last shared any details about what he did for most of the day. Her eyes widened a bit to see that he was indeed writing letters and that the one he was writing at that very moment was addressed to Winston Churchill.

“Whatever are you writing a letter to Churchill for?” She couldn’t help but to ask.

“Business” was his short answer.

“What kind of business?” She pressed.

“Just business” he replied in a somehow annoyed tone that he had never used before on her.

She tried not to let his tone sting, to no avail. Silence filled the room for a few moments as thoughts about what to say next filled Y/n´s head. Years of knowing the man had taught her that it was best to leave him be when he wanted to be alone, but her concern for his well being prevented her from doing just that.

“Tommy” she warned in a rare softness laced with worry and the tiniest amount of hurt.

He didn’t acknowledge it though, he just kept writing. Y/n sighed and put her hand on top of his, the one that was resting atop of the letter to Churchill, not the one writing it.

“Thomas” she tried again, rubbing her thumb on the back of his hand

The use of his name made him look up at her. She wished he hadn’t, for the look on his face was that of annoyance.

“What?”

She didn’t want to be annoying, but his state worried her more than the worry of being annoying did. “Why don’t you come to bed? Its late.”

He sighed and turned his attention back to the letter. “Im busy.”

“I´m sure you can write that tomorrow.” she hesitantly reassured him.

He didn’t reply, so she went on. “I´m worried about you Tom. You barely sleep, you barely eat, you don’t even talk to me anymore, not really anyhow and…”

“Look Y/n” he interrupted, turning his full attention to her, in a less than caring tone “I have a business to run, if you don’t like it then leave.”

She could have never anticipated his answer and it hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes watered and her lips parted a bit in unpleasant surprise at both his tone and harsh words. Tommy saw it, but still he did nothing and went back to writing. She then decided not to push him any further and left the room. She walked upstairs and into one of the many spare rooms, being too distraught to sleep in the bed Tommy and she shared despite knowing very well the prospect of him visiting the room was more than unlikely.

She knew how important his business was and understood the priority, but for a while ( ever since marrying Tommy to be precise) she had allowed herself to believe she mattered as much to him as business. Tommy’s small acts of love backing up her beliefs in days that seemed long gone; all replaced now with indifference towards her that left her with a profound uncertainty about everything and anything. For the past few months he had started pushing her away, allowing her less and less to be involved in anything related to business, making her feel like a total stranger. Still, the deep concern she felt for the man she loved overpowered the betrayal she felt at his words and she couldn’t help it but to mentally forgive him before falling asleep.

She woke up the next morning feeling alienated of the events from the previous night. Had it all really happened, Or had it been it just a dream? Her mental questions were instantly answered when she realized she awoke in one of the spare rooms. Still not fully awake, She started thinking about the day ahead of her, how very dull it seemed. She avoided Tommy (who oddly enough was still at home ) all morning, not knowing for sure how she should act around him anymore.

After breakfast, she found safe haven in the library where her unfinished painting from the previous night awaited her with open arms. With each stroke of the brush against the canvas she felt herself floating away and, entering in some sort of peaceful trance which was only broken with the sound of the library door opening a few moments later.

Y/n knew it was him, but she didn’t dare to look at him. She heard his footsteps coming closer till he was standing behind her and her stool.

“Looks beautiful” came his voice.

“Thanks”

She then stood up and decided to turn around to look at him, knowing the only reason he was home during the day was that he wanted to talk. When her eyes met his tired ones, he felt a pang of guilt. He could see concern and sadness painted on her face and he knew he had to make it right.

“I didn’t mean to snap last night” he confessed.

“I know” she said, barely a whisper.

“I¨m sorry” he sighed, holding her hands in his.

“You don’t have to take care of everything on your own, you know?” She stated before wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. She sighed happily as she felt his arms wrapping around her, making her feel at home for the fist time in wha thad seemed for ever. “I hate what you’re doing to yourself, it’s killing me to see you fade away.”

“I´ll take care” he promised.

“Let me help” she pleaded.

He pulled away to look at her eyes before kissing her softly, hoping with all his might that he never would regret letting her back in by endangering her “Alright Mrs. Shelby”

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby one shot #thomas shelby angst #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders one shot

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crowtrinkets · 3 years

Text

There are No Ghosts at Fathom Castle

The barista cannot sleep because something or someone is making noises late at night. Felix tries to convince them there are no ghosts. But is it true?

Gender Neutral Reader as always

I hope people laugh at the BuzzFeed unsolved quotes as I did lol. I don't have a set time that this takes place, just sometime after the MC yknow *dead sounds*The trash house story is actually based on a house my friends and I found one, we all dicked around in it like a bunch of idiots and I'm p sure something followed me home :)

Tags: @sadnhvibes @uselessbeanies

Words: 3,514

*THUMP*

I am roused from my sleep, sitting up quickly, frantically looking for the source of the sound. Nothing. What was I doing? I glance down and notice the book in front of me. Right, I was reading and I guess I must have fallen asleep.

"Stella? Did you break into my room again? You better not be knocking Felix's books over again you know how he hates that," I call out. I don't hear the telltale sign of Stella's meows so she must not be in here. I sit up properly, stretching my sore muscles, groaning with my aching bones. I stand and stumble over to my bed, if I'm going to be asleep it should at least be somewhere comfortable. Curling up in my blankets, I let my eyes flutter shut and slowly drift off.

*THUMP*

I snap my eyes open when I hear the sound a second time, this time it's followed by footsteps. That definitely was not Stella. I grab my blanket and wrap it around myself, grabbing a nearby lit candle. I hastily put on my shoes and cautiously approach the door. I slowly push it open, enough that the hinges don't creek.

Stepping out of my room, trying desperately to remain quiet and unseen, I cup my hand around the flame to protect it and shield the light from whoever is lurking in the halls. The steps are getting louder, approaching me ever so slowly. Like its taunting me. I back up against the wall, just before the corner turns, and take in a deep breath. I should have brought a weapon but maybe I can scare the intruder, I grab the corner of my blanket so I can throw it if need be. The steps are louder now, just before they reach the corner I swing around to catch them by surprise.

"AAAAH-AAUGHHHH!" I drop the candle before I can get a good look at the intruder's to face. In an instant, green flames are thrown at me, along with the intruder's screams, I fall backward and toss my blanket at the flames, scooting backward, frantically trying to get away. My blanket catches alight and falls to the ground, a flurry of green flames and feathers. I look up and meet the intruder's eyes, my breath labored and heavy.

"Felix!?" I say. Felix has his hand supporting him against the wall, trying to catch his own breath. He meets my eyes and speaks my name.

"What are you doing attacking me with your bedding in the dead of night?" Felix tries to remain whispering, but his voice is high-pitched with fear.

"What are you doing stalking around at night? And what's with the thumping?" I point at him accusatorially from the ground. Felix eyes me up and down, his gaze dropping to my blanket, which is still very much on fire. The flames illuminate his expression. Casting green light and shadows on his tired yet confused expression. I finally get to my feet dusting myself off.

"I could not sleep… Anyhow, are you alright? Not singed or injured in any way?" Felix's concern seems serious but I can't help but still feel shaken.

"No, but I feel like I lost 5 years off my lifespan," I run a hand through my hair trying to calm my violently beating heart.

"Well, yes, dying and coming back will do that to you,"

"Huh?"

"What?" Felix's eyes snap to mine, the hallway filling with an awkward silence.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," I say with a sigh. Just then the fire from the blanket goes out. "Oh great now its pitch black, and I dropped my candle too," I grumble. I hear metal clinking and then suddenly my candle is alight in Felix's hand, who hands it to me.

"Oh um, thank you," I say, reaching to take it from his hand. Our fingers graze and I suddenly feel more awake and aware, or maybe it was because I had the bejeezus scared out of me a second ago. Taking the candle holder from Felix I clear my throat.

"So um, couldn't sleep? Does thumping around relax you or something?" I try to joke.

"Thumping? I'm afraid I don’t know what you're talking about?" Felix states, crossing his arms.

"Well, it sure as hell wasn't Stella,"

"You'd be surprised what she can do," his tone turning serious.

"Well if you weren't making those thumping sounds then who was?" Felix gives me a shrug. I chuckle slightly. "Maybe it was a ghost,"

"Oh please, if there were ghosts here I would know, and besides they wouldn't just make things go bump in the night,"

"Says the man that turned into a ghost and followed me from Porrima back to Fathom,"

"I was not-!" Felix cuts himself off with a sigh. "Trust me when I tell you this dear barista, there are no ghosts in Fathom castle,"

THUMP

We both jump, inching closer together, frantically looking around in the darkness, I hold the candle up to see if I can illuminate the hallway a bit, but it remains dark and shadowy, much to our dismay.

"That definitely didn’t come from Stella," my voice barely above a whisper.

"Please, if anything it's probably Sage trying to mess with us," Felix takes a step forward, trying to appear brave, but I can hear the shake of his voice. "Hilarious Sage, you can stop your charade now though, no need to frighten out friend, the hour is late,"

No response.

"Felix I don't think it's Sage,"

"Isn't there a particular bar calling your name about now?" Felix shouts down the dark hall. Still no response. His shoulders drop as he takes a step back, his eyes still scanning the darkened hallway.

"Maybe it was a ghooost" I mimic my best haunting voice and wave my free hand ominously at Felix who only scoffs.

"If there were ghosts here they would not be able to move objects on their own, and they do not sound like that!" Felix states, but I can sense a hint of a smile in the candlelight.

“Well, I won't be able to go back to bed now, fancy some ghost hunting Felix?” I nudge his side. Felix lets out a sigh as he glances at me, eyeing me up and down.

“Well alright, but don’t get your hopes up, I doubt we’ll see anything,” I can feel the excitement, or maybe fear, well in me, we begin to walk down the hallway together, looking for the source of the sound.

“So Felix, tell me about Fathom's ghostly history?”

“What other than the thousands of Starsworn who died?

“Right… Well, every haunted place has a story of some sort, it explains why it’s haunted,”

“Oh really? Such as?” Felix’s tone is almost teasing, as a smirk form upon his lips.

“Well, hmm… Oh, one time when I was a teenager my friends and I went walking in the dark. We found an abandoned house that was absolutely filled with trash and other items,”

“What does this have to do with hauntings?”

“Well, someone wrote 'it's under the house' on one of the walls,”

“And what was under the house?”

“I’m not actually sure, none of us wanted to go digging in trash, but I'm sure something followed me home, I would always hear weird sounds at night after that day,” I hear Felix scoff once again.

“Even if there were ghosts in that place I doubt they would follow you home, you were probably paranoid,” I shrug off his comment and we continue to walk down the corridor in silence.

Our shoes echo off the walks, the only sound other than the wick of the candle, popping occasionally. We continue to walk in silence, almost like we have run out of things to say. And neither one of us dare to break it. But the thump comes once again, stopping us in our tracks, wind flows through the corridor putting out my light. Without thinking I reach for Felix’s hand in the darkness as I let out a startled gasp. I can hear Felix’s breath hitch as he grips my hand as well.

"Felix, you're not doing that right?"

"No of course not!" the thumping becomes more frantic and louder. It's getting closer.

"Well, I'm not staying to find out!" I grip Felix's hand and book it back towards my room. Dragging Felix back with me, throwing the candle holder in the direction of the sound. He yelps in response but follows me through the dark halls. We finally make it to my room and I close the door behind us.

"Why did you run? I thought you wanted to find the ghost?" Felix says between gasps.

"I'm not fond of being attacked in the dark" I say.

"Well, now you've tossed away our light source,"

"Oh, Ummm," I think for a moment and walk to the table in my room, I rummage through my backpack which is placed on top. I pull out my house keys and remove the miniature flashlight from the key ring. I flick it on and shine it on Felix, avoiding his face, he squints at the sudden light facing him.

"Gods, what is that?"

"It's a flashlight, just a handy dandy Earth invention,"

"Your Earth 'slang' as you call it, never ceases to baffle me,"

"You wouldn't happen to have holy water? Or even a crucifix?"

"A what?"

"Ok, maybe we can just will the ghost away?"

"What? What are you talking about,"

“So we can banish the ghost!” I say almost a little too enthusiastically.

“There is no ghost!” Felix sounds exasperated at this point.

“You’re right, it can’t be a ghost…. More than anything it’s a poltergeist or a demon,” a smile creeps across my lips. Felix lets out a long sigh, he stares at the ceiling almost like he’s asking the heavens ‘why’.

“C’mon Felix it’s just for fun, and besides something is making that sound so we have to find it,” I approach Felix, hoping he’s not too annoyed and will go with me. His eyes meet mine and he stares just for a second.

“Fine, yes, we really should find the source of the noise,” I return Felix's grimace with a smile as we exit my room.

The hallway is just as dark and ominous as before. I scan my flashlight as far as it will reach. It’s a cheap dollar store flashlight I got for emergencies, so it doesn’t reach that far, but it's better than nothing.

“Hey there demons, it's me, ya Earthling,” I call out into the hallway.

“What? What does that even mean?” Felix sounds utterly dumbfounded. I’m now reminding myself to brush him up on the great Earth classics.

“Its nothing, just a little friendly greeting for the ghosts,”

THUMP

The sound again. It comes from one end of the hallway. Felix and I glance at each other and with a nod, we head towards its direction. I light up what little I can of the hallway as we make our way to the source of the sound. Our breath shallow so as to not allow whoever's there to hear us approaching. We make our way around a corner, peaking just before we move forward.

“Do you hear that?” Felix puts a hand out in front of me.

“What I don’t hear-“ I stop when the sound of a wailing echoes silently through the hall. “I-is that a woman crying?”

“It must be the wind, there’s a terrible draft in this castle,” Felix’s voice wavers slightly, but he clears his throat as though to mask it.

“No… that sounds like a woman crying,” I feel my nerves bubble in my stomach, telling me to go back to the safety of my room. But I have to know what this sound is, and even then I don’t think I'd be able to fall asleep. I suddenly feel warmth on my hand, even in the dark I can tell it's Felix. I squeeze his fingers in mine.

“Let's keep moving,” he whispers to me, we then continue down the path, towards the crying voice.

“Yknow back on Earth there's a famous ghost called La Llorona, she wanders the streets at night wailing for her dead children,”

“I guess grief can transcend the grave as well,”

“Well, some people say she killed them,”

“...Maybe we should talk about something else,”

“Right,”

As we continue down the halls, the wailing seems to travel, never in one spot or room, it’s almost as though it wants us to follow. Eventually, we end up outside of the castle, where we approach a rather rickety-looking bridge connecting two sections of the castle together. We walk into the moonlight, the chill air nipping at our skin. I am suddenly mourning my blanket.

Felix pulls his hand away from mine and walks over to the ledge of a wall near the bridge, looking up at the sky. Turning off and pocketing my flashlight I stand by his side.

“Are you usually up this late?” I break the silence.

“Usually yes, my sleeping habits are temperamental so I tend to take walks, hence why I was out and about when you frightened me,” Felix says, eyes never leaving the stars.

“Right, sorry about that, you do owe me a new blanket though,”

“Yes, I suppose,” Felix chuckles. I lean forward on the wall and look at the surroundings of the castle, lots of water, I can also see the forest I occasionally take walks in. Taking a deep breath I start again.

“If you ever can't sleep you can always see if I'm up, and if I am we can take a walk together,” I glance over at Felix who stiffens slightly, but then a small smile forms on his lips,”

“I would very much enjoy that,” he states. The moonlight shining brightly on him, casting his frame in cool blue light, fitting to the cold air surrounding us.

Suddenly a rattling sound startles us. Both straightening from our spots Felix and I look at the bridge, which shakes slightly. Felix and I approach it, gawking at the bridge which starts to shake more and more violently, almost like someone is jumping on it. I look across the other side and see a door in the castle wall, slightly ajar, something white flowing in the corner.

“What is that!” I point across the bridge. Felix squints.

“I’m not sure, but there must be some explanation,” at this point the bridge is rattling loud enough that Felix and I have to yell.

“Is there an explanation for a bridge moving violently like this?!” I wildly gesture at the bridge. Felix winces at my comment.

“No I don’t think so,”

"Screw this," I take a deep breath and grip Felix’s sleeve.

“FUCK YOU, GOATMAN!” I shout at the top of my lungs, running as fast as possible across the bridge, dragging Felix in tow. The bridge continues to shake but I keep my balance and speed. As I run towards the door frame the white object disappears behind the door, I kick in the door, and once Felix and I make it inside I slam it shut. I scan for whatever disappeared behind the door but I don't see it.

“Goatman?” Is all Felix can blurt out.

“Oh yknow, another famous Earth ghost. He attacks people who play on his bridge, thought I would cover my bases and scream at him,”

“Earth is quite obsessed with death and the afterlife, and you call me morbid,” Felix retorts. I look around the room for any doors or hallways, but there are only stairs that lead back to the inside of the castle.

“I guess all we can do is head down,” Felix nods and once I bring out my flashlight, we descend the stairs. Once we reach the bottom I notice a white blur disappear behind a door. I grab onto Felix’s sleeve and pull him close so I can whisper into his ear.

“I saw something go into that door Felix, I think it’s the ghost we saw earlier,”

“I didn’t see anything,”

“Well, I did! And at this point, I'm tired of chasing it!" I storm towards the door, Felix whispering protests behind me. I kick open the door and scan my flashlight around the room. It seems we're in a small mess hall of sorts. There are tables and benches everywhere, but I don't see anyone else in the room.

"I don't see the point of chasing something that potentially isn't even there!" Felix comes up behind me, sounding very done with our hunt. Just as Felix makes his way in, the door slams shut behind us. I shine my light at the door and see no one behind us. I approach the door and pull on the knob, trying to get it open, but it won't budge. I shoot Felix a worried glance, his lips forming into a grimace.

"Open the door!" Felix's voice wavers between scared and annoyed.

"I'm trying it won't budge!" I continue to pull on the door. Felix approaches and pulls on the door as well. But it remains closed. I suddenly feel the hairs on my neck stand, almost like someone is watching me, I tense my shoulders daring not to turn around. Put a hand on Felix's shoulders, I lean in to whisper in his ear.

"Felix I think someone is behind me," without waiting for a beat Felix turns around, his eyes going wide, he backs against the door and grabs my arm pulling me close. I turn around to see what he's looking at. There stands, the shape of a woman, standing a few feet away. White cloths drape her figure shielding her face. She reaches a hand out to us and the wailing we heard earlier in the castle starts to emit from her. At this point, my whole body is shaking.

"Felix I think that's the ghost,"

"N-no! It cant be, it must be Sage," Felix continues to grip my arm, holding me close to him or maybe he's shielding himself but at this point, I'm too scared to question it. "Ok Sage you can let up now, we're trapped in this room so there's no reason to keep going with your little prank," But the figure continues to advance on us. I reach behind me and continue to pull on the doorknob, hoping it finally opens. However, my prayers are answered too soon and the door does open. Felix and I falling backward, our backs hitting something behind us.

"Boo," a deep voice growls into our ears.

"AAAUGH!" Felix and I both jump and swing around to see…

"Sage!!" I shout, my thoughts catch up to me and I turn back around only to see.

"Annie!?" Felix retorts. Anisa pulls the cloth from her face and bursts out laughing, Sage, following suit. In between shaky breathes Felix and I look at the two of them and back at each other, confusion and fear plastered on our faces.

"I think I need to sit down," I stumble over to the wall and lean against it, sliding down until I'm sitting on the floor.

"I knew it was just Sage messing with us, but Anisa! How could you,"

"I'm so sorry! It's just Sage had the idea and I couldn't resist having a little fun," Anisa says as she wipes tears from her eyes. Her fangs poking through her smile. Sage is now on the floor, having difficulty containing his laughter.

"Oh, the look on your faces! And Felix trying so hard to open the door!" Sage grips his stomach until his laughing subsides to which he lets out a sigh and sits up, using his left arm to support himself.

"So the wailing in the castle? That was you?" He gestures to Anisa who nods in response, trying to stifle her laugh.

"What about the bridge that couldn't have possibly been you?" he turns to Sage.

"Tied a rope to the bridge and pulled on it from the moat! I got a little wet in the process but I feel it was worth it," Sage sends a wink in my direction. To which I roll my eyes, still trying to calm my nerves.

"I do hope you'll forgive us," Anisa walks over to me and crouches by my side. I let out a sigh and look between Sage and Anisa.

"I guess it was kind of funny," I say.

"Nothing funny about scaring the lights out of someone," Felix mumbles under his breath.

"I think I can recall a certain someone setting many things on fire as a "prank", Felix?" Anisa shoots him a smug smile. Felix flushes slightly and shrugs. Anisa calls my name to get my attention. "How are you feeling?" I finally sit up from the wall and look at the three of them processing the night I just had with Felix.

"Like, you all owe me a new blanket,"

#fictif #fictif last legacy #last legacy fictif #fictif felix #fictif anisa #fictif sage #fictif stella #felix iskandar escellun #anisa anka #sage lesath #fictif fanfic #fictif fic #last legacy fanfic #crow writes

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sapphirelass · 3 years

Text

What family is all about - Weasley FamilyxWeasley!Sister

Hiiiiiii!!! It’s... been a while. Again. Let’s face it, I’ll never be able to post as often as I’d like. I just don’t like rushing stuff, or posting anything I’m not happy with, so...

Anyhow, I LOVED writing for the Weasley family, and I’ll most likely do it again soon. Bill and Charlie are both underrated characters in my opinion and I had a ton of fun letting them ‘shine’ (despite this being a sort of sad story, but that always seems to be where I end up... XD)

Also, I might have to edit this once more, but it’s late, I have not posted in about two weeks and I just want to go to sleep XD That being said, take it for what it is, and I’ll try to correct any grammatical errors later. Good night! <3

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

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

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

Word count: ≈ 2800 (they just keep getting longer, don’t they? XD)

Warnings: Light swearing, blood, angst

Enjoy! :)

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

That’s what family is all about

“How big did his tongue get?”

“It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!”

The sound of laughter was heard from the kitchen as Elwira Weasley entered her childhood home. She worked as an arithmancer, and had been stationed at a research-facility in the northern parts of Sweden for the past few years. Her work took up most of her time, but she had just travelled home to go see the quidditch final with her dad, older brother Bill, twin brother Charlie and all their younger siblings.

“It isn’t funny”, her dad shouted. “That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of muggles, and my own sons-”

“Are just a wee bit too daft to understand that!”

She walked through the door and found her entire family, plus two other people she didn’t know, all sitting or standing around the kitchen table.

“Ellie?!”

Her older brother and twin, with whom she had always been extremely close, both made their way across the room and pulled her into a hug so tight she could barely breathe.

“Blimey! ‘ello Bill, hey Charlie! Long time no see, huh?”

“Certainly!”, their mother exclaimed while pushing the two oldest sons to the side as she tried to get a good look at her grown-up daughter. “Not a single visit since Christmas, Elwira Weasley, we’ve had to do with owls for six months?!”

“Sorry, mum, there’s been a lot of work to do… I thought I’d stay for the rest of the summer though, if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course, dear! Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I’m famished!”

Mrs Weasley went off to get another plate, and Ellie, after greeting everyone and being introduced to Harry and Hermione, took a seat between her dad and youngest brother.

“So Ronald? Had a good term?”

“Err.. Sure? Nothing interesting except for the stuff I wrote to you about, though.”

“Well you’re going into your fourth year now - almost halfway through!” She paused for a moment and turned to her father. “You good dad? You seem a bit… tense?”

Arthur looked up from his plate and sent his daughter a kind smile.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. Hosting the world cup comes with a great deal of problems all with the need to be solved. Admittedly, it’s not really part of my job, but the entire ministry becomes quite chaotic when something like that is days away. I’m a bit stressed, that’s all. How are things up in Scandinavia?”

“They’re… somewhat slow to be honest. There’s so much work to do between like October and February, but in the summer it’s mostly filing and other boring bits of paperwork.”

“Elwira?”, Hermione asked. “Sorry, I’m just curious, what is it that you do? Ron’s never told us…”

“That’s probably cause Ron doesn’t understand what I’m doing”, she smirked, “but of course, I work with, and study, arithmancy which, as you might know, is part of what’s called ‘natural magic’.”

“Great!”, mumbled Ron quietly, making sure only his friends and older sister heard. “Hermione, there are four rules in this house, okay? One: Don’t ask Charlie about dragons, Two: Don’t ask Percy about anything, Three: Don’t ask dad about muggles, and Four: Don’t ask Ellie about her job. Break either and you’ll be stuck listening to a five hour lecture.”

Hermione didn’t seem to be bored though, so Ellie ignored her brother’s comment and continued.

“It’s the type of magic that has been studied and worshiped since ancient times and has a very strong connection with nature. The natural phenomena with the strongest affiliation with magic is, while they in themselves have what the muggles would call a ‘scientific explanation’, the northern lights. Meaning it’s only when they’re visible that we can make any significant progress.”

Ellie paused and glanced at the younger girl, trying to see whether she had caught on or not, and was happy when realizing that she had.

“And... “, questioned Hermione, “the northern lights are only visible north of the polar circle and b-”

“Between September and March, exactly… Meaning there’s sadly not that much advanced research that can be done during the rest of the year…”

“It’s still a fascinating subject though. I only started last year, but I love it.”

“I’m glad! At least some people appreciate the wonderful art that is arithmancy, Ronald!”

Ron looked up at the mention of his name and met his sister’s gaze.

“I just don’t find it interesting”, he said.

“Right, because you ha-”

Ellie didn’t get to finish her sentence before being interrupted by her twin brother.

“Hey, Ellie? Must have been fun watching the Nordic versus Germany, huh?”

“Oh shut up, Charlie!”, she groaned while putting her head in her hands. “Holy Merlin…” The Nordic National Quidditch team, of which she had become a huge supporter in the last few years, had suffered a HORRENDOUS loss against Germany, and it had certainly not been a fun night.

Her brother, however, did not shut up, but instead burst out laughing.

“Charlie, it’s not funny!! You should have been there though… You’d have done a much better job than the stand-in seeker we had.”

“What were the results again? 700-20?”

“... 520 actually”

“520 to??”, Bill said mockingly

“You’re idiots both of you… 520-0, happy now?”

Ellie hadn’t realized that everyone else around the table had been listening in on their conversation, but was made aware when Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Arthur began laughing loudly.

“Why is this so funny to everyone? England lost badly too, and neither Romania nor Egypt even qualified to compete?!”

“Yeah...”, began Fred.

“But none of them lost with 520 points.”, finished George, earning himself a furious look from his older sister who stood up and shook her head.

“I’ll go see if mum needs any help…”

~~~~~~

Ellie loved her family, and therefore all her slightly annoying brothers, beyond everything, but being away from them for months and then meeting them all at the same time was TIRING! Having no desire to sleep through the world cup, she decided to go to bed early the night before, and she had barely closed her eyes before she fell asleep...

~~~~~~

“3, 2 ‘shhhh, quiet!”

Ellie took notice of the obnoxiously loud whispers, but it wasn’t enough to fully wake her up.

“We’ve got one more chance, 3, 2, 1, ELLIE!!!!”

She woke up instantly and sent a blast of blue sparks towards her older brother, barely missing him by an inch.

“What ‘ru doing, El? You can’t just go attacking people?!”

He tried to sound angry, but failed miserably, a heartwarming laugh escaping his mouth.

“You bloody idiots?! Why’d you scare me like that? You’re 21 and 23, not five?”

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it? Do you remember-”

“Yes, I do!”. She rubbed her eyes slowly, “‘85, look can you two please let me sleep?”

“Sorry, sis”, said Bill. “We’re leaving in half an hour. The kids and dad left ages ago.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to be late do you? Not when you can cheer for a team that might not loo-”

“Charlie, I swear!”

~~~~~~

The match was fantastic! Ellie would never admit it to her brothers, but it was nice to watch an even one for once. Watching and cheering with her family brought back fond memories of childhood games at the Burrow or Hogwarts, and she realized just how much she had missed actually playing. They stayed up late discussing players and tactics, but eventually their father ushered them all off to bed.

~~~~~~

“Ellie?”

“Ellie??”

She stirred slightly and pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her.

“Ellie! Damn it, wake up!”

She opened her eyes slowly and saw her twin brother bent above her. The sight made her sigh.

“Charlie”, she mumbled. “We see each other once- or twice a year nowadays, do you really feel obligated to wake me up every time you get the chance?”

“Elwira, I’m serious! Get up!”

This caught her attention. Sure, the twins often used their full names when messing with each other, but it didn’t sound like Charlie was joking at all. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned loudly.

“What’s going on? Wha- Charlie? It’s still dark out? Why’d yo-”

“Ellie, c’mon. We have to help dad. Someone’s attacking the muggles.”

He threw his sister a jacket and pulled her out of the tent. Arthur, Bill and Percy were all waiting outside.

“Dad?”, she asked. “What’s happening? Charlie sai-”

“We’ve got to help the ministry!”, he said while frantically trying to count everyone and make sure they were there. “Fred, George, you make sure the others are safe. Go wait in the woods and I’ll come for you when the situation’s under control. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ellie, let’s see if there’s something we can do.”

Nobody questioned Mr Weasley’s instructions, and immediately left in different directions. There were people everywhere though, and the two directions quickly became three, four, six. Spells and curses were fired left, right and centre and Ellie found herself disarming and stunning at least a few death eaters. There weren’t that many of them, roughly thirty or so, but the insane amount of witches and wizards fleeing the campsite made it difficult to fight back. She couldn’t risk hitting any random bloke.

While duelling a tall man in a black mask, Ellie suddenly stumbled forward, a particularly nasty curse having hit her straight in the back. Falling to the ground felt way more painful than it should have, and her wand landed well beyond her reach. She groaned as a burning pain spread through her lower back, but made an effort to get back up anyways. She did, however, not make it very far before the sharp end of a wand dug into her throat.

The death eater behind her sniggered and pulled her up by the collar of her shirt.

“Well, well, well… Why’re you trying to ruin our fun?”

He stood way too close for comfort and Ellie felt his breath on her neck. She tried to answer, but the curse that was shot at her must have hit its intended target, as all that came out when she opened her mouth was a strained cough and warm blood.

The bloke holding her let out a dark chuckle and threw her to the ground. She could barely keep her eyes open, and a thick, red liquid oozed from the wound in her back.

“Not so high-and-mighty now, are we?”

Ellie lacked the strength to fight back, and to the death eaters that seemed to take all the fun out of the situation. They set off back towards the campsite, leaving Ellie on the ground next to a few pines. She tried her very best to sit up, but ended up passing out…

~~~~~~

“Charlie?!”

Bill ran up to his younger brother and pulled him in for a quick, one-armed hug.

“Charlie, you okay? We’ve got to get back to the tent. Where’s El?”

“Wha-, I-I thought she was with you?!?”

“What? Last I saw her you were together?”

The brothers shared a lock of utter terror.

“Bill, we have to find her!”

“I know… Dad went to get the kids and Percy’s back in the tent waiting.”

“There’s no time to waste then. Let’s go”

~~~~~~

They had been running around the camping grounds for half an hour, and there was still not a trace of a living soul - let alone the special one they were searching for. At first, they had been shouting her name at the top of their lungs, but were now walking silently. That was, at least, until a shout made both of them turn around.

“Bill! Charlie! What are you doing? I told you to stay in the tent?”

Arthur Weasley came running towards them, with Harry, Ron and Hermione following close behind.

“Dad!”, Charlie shouted. “Have you seen El? We can’t find her?”

“What?”, asked Arthur. “But she was with you, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, at first, but we must have gotten separated… Dad, is that? You know?”

He threw a dark glance at the skull and snake decorating the night sky and said, “Yes. Yes it is. Look, I’ll take Ron, Hermione and Harry back to the tent, and I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes, okay? Don’t go too far. Come on kids!”

~~~~~~

Just as the brothers were about to give up, go back to the clearing, wait for their dad and hopefully find both their sisters safe and sound, Bill noticed something. A glimpse of red in the moonlight…

“Charlie? Get over here fast!”

The younger brother followed Bill’s gaze and immediately set off through the forest when his eyes found a mess of ginger hair sticking out from behind a rather large pine. Bill followed closely behind.

“ELLIE!!!?!!”

Charlie stumbled to his knees and turned his sister around, trying to get a better look at her. He pressed his hand to her wrist and breathed a sigh of relief when he found a pulse.

“She’s alive”, he mumbled. “Bill, she’s alive!”

“Good. I- Good.” Bill was lost for words too and mumbled a quick “Let me see”.

He pushed some hair out of her eyes and searched for any clues to what had hit her. He was a curse-breaker after all, but that usually meant working with curses placed on things or places, not people.

“Charlie, I-I don’t know what that is… it’s not a curse I’m familiar with and I’m no healer… You want to carry her?”

“Of course”

Charlie brought his twin into his arms and picked her up, her bruised, limp body threatening to fall unless he held on tight enough. The brothers walked back to the clearing where they’d promised to meet their dad, but kept a close watch on their sister. They would apparate, though at the moment none of them felt like they had much time for ‘Deliberation’. It wasn’t very far anyways.

~~~~~~

“DAD!”, Bill shouted as soon as they noticed Arthur in the clearing where they were supposed to wait.

“Boys! Didn’t I tell you t-”

“We’ll take that later, Dad, you’ve got to help her!?”

Arthur Weasley was speechless, which had most likely never happened before, and Charlie felt so helpless. This was worse than his worst nightmares, and there was nothing he could do. Had it been a wounded dragon, sure, he knew loads about them, but this?

“Dad?”, asked Bill. “What can we do?”

“Right. Er… I suppose there’s no use trying to get you to wait here?”, he said while looking at Charlie who frantically shook his head. “Right, Bill could you go back to Percy and the kids? Fill them in on what happened? Then Charlie and I’ll take Ellie to St Mungos, okay?”

Bill didn’t look too happy with the idea, but nodded nonetheless.

---

“Charlie sit down!”

“Fred, he can’t”, said George. “Hey, I think you missed a spot over there, Charles”

“Shut it both of you! Honestly, why am I the only one that’s worried?”

Arthur stood up and put an arm around his son.

“Listen, we’re all worried, but walking back and forth isn’t helping anyone. Just sit for a moment, huh?”

“No, dad, you don’t understand! It’s my fault. We were supposed to stick together! I let her out of my sight...I-”

“Charlie, we all-”

“No, Bill, you don’t get it either, I should-”

“-let your sister sleep for once? That’d be greatly appreciated, thank you.”

The entire family turned at once, and found the oldest daughter struggling to sit up.

“EL!!”

Charlie stumbled over and put a hand on his sister’s back, trying to help her up, but unfortunately placing it right where the curse had hit her.

“Auch!”

She moved away from his touch and he pulled his hand back immediately.

“Blimey, Ellie I’m so s-”

“Charlie, it’s good. Don’t worry about it.”

Ellie pulled her brother into a hug, though he was now extremely careful, and she looked over his shoulder at the rest of her family. Her eyes met Bill’s and he sent her a kind smile. She gestured for him to come join them, and eventually the whole family found themselves in a loving group hug. Molly did her very best to wrap her arms around all her children, desperately trying to convince herself that they were all there - safe and sound and loved.

Because if there was one thing the Weasleys had a lot of, it was love and that is, after all, precisely what family is all about.

~ L

Masterlist

#weasley family imagine #bill weasley x sister #charlie weasley x sister #harry potter imagine #weasleys x sister #HP #hp one shot #Goblet of Fire #quidditch #arthur weasley x daughter #creative writing #writing #hp fan fic #harry potter fan fiction #weasley siblings #weasleys x daughter

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imagineaworlds · 4 years

Text

I Love You (Part Thirteen) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: The lightest bit of smut. Dom/sub relationship. Name calling. Teasing. Cursing. Talk about murder. Talk about kidnapping.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 9765

Timeline: Season 2 Episode 22. Two months after part twelve.

It was a relief whenever Hotch and I were scheduled to see Jack, and JJ would tell us on that morning at 10AM that we had no cases. Knowing that we had the whole day to just get through work together, then we could go pick up Jack from school and spend some time with him… That was everything. Getting to see his face light up when he’d see us waiting outside of his school, getting to sit down with him to help him with his homework, and then getting to read him a bedtime story to help him fall asleep were all small things that made only seeing him every few days or so worth it. Since I started dating Hotch and met Jack, I felt like I had a new reason to rush home from work, or to be more careful during cases.

After the case the team had just gotten back from, JJ was trying her best to push off some cases because there was still so much to be done around the office. Hotch had paperwork piling on his desk from at least the past ten cases, and Strauss was beginning to ask questions. He was supposed to write up a report about the last case we worked on in Washington, but that was all because of me and Morgan, and both of us felt bad that he practically had to do our work because ended up shooting one of the Unsubs— and Hotch wasn’t even there…

Paul Mulford and his brother, Johnny Mulford, had been kidnapping people from their incapacitated cars on the side of the highway, then taking them out into the mountains in order to hunt them like animals. Before we managed to catch up to the Mulford brothers, they had killed at least twenty-five victims of either gender, any race, any age, etc. There had been no clear victimology, but the M.O. was clear enough to show that the brothers had been raised to hunt humans, not animals; and that this was a sport for them. When we caught them, Johnny had already been stabbed multiple times and eventually bled out before he could tell us where his brother went. Morgan and I went running through the woods together to see if we could follow Paul’s trail, and sure enough, we found him standing on a hill with his bow aimed at another victim he had been chasing for a few days. When Morgan told Paul to put his weapon down, Paul refused and aimed his weapon again, this time at us. Morgan and I had no other choice but to shoot him before he could shoot us.

Hotch wasn’t there, and he hadn’t even made the call; yet, Strauss was still making him write up the report. Hotch had been stuck at work for hours at night, hardly ever coming home because he just decided to sleep at the office due to how much work he needed to do. After Washington, though, when Morgan and I found out that Hotch was taking on that load of paperwork, too, we decided that we had to step in. I stayed late one night with Hotch since we weren’t supposed to have Jack for another day, and when he accidentally fell asleep on the couch in his office, I snuck in and stole the Mulford case file from the bottom of the pile. I ran out before he could wake up or notice, and I held the file up in victory as I ran over to Morgan in the bullpen. And Hotch never realized once he woke up that I had taken it— that was how much work he had. Besides, I was willing to take the heat from Strauss if it would become a problem, and I was more than fine with Hotch giving me… trouble… for it, if it came down to it.

Morgan and I managed to sneak out of the office and head home for the night before Hotch would notice that we had stuck around to do some work. In the morning, I packed some fresh clothes for Hotch and picked up some breakfast for him. At Quantico, his office blinds were shut and his door was locked. I groaned as I balanced everything in one hand and grabbed my ring of keys where I had a spare to Hotch’s office for… safe keeping… Alright, technically, I wasn’t supposed to have it, but he wasn’t going to tell and neither was I.

Hotch sat up suddenly from the couch and immediately reached out for the papers in front of him to make it look like he had been working this entire time and hadn’t fallen asleep at all. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was just me, and he put the papers back down. I giggled and kissed his cheek as I sat down next to him. As I handed him his coffee and breakfast, he thanked me. He set the coffee down on the table before reaching back to hold my chin between his fingers and pull me in for a kiss. I smiled against his lips, then put the bag of clothes down at our feet before leaning back against the cushions.

“How did you sleep?” I asked.

He leaned back with me, “Okay, I think. I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep. What time did you get home?”

“About ten,” I lied.

It was more like midnight when Morgan and I called it quits. We were slowly starting to realize how much work Hotch actually had to do compared to the rest of us. It was easy for us to just come into work, get the cases, find the Unsubs, come back to Quantico, do some paperwork, then head back home. But Hotch spent a lot of his time doing the paperwork that the rest of the team technically should have already been doing. Just this one case file alone was going to take the entire day for Morgan and I to complete— together. I couldn’t imagine how long it would take Hotch with how much of a neat freak and perfectionist he was. Everything had to be done the right way when it came to Aaron Hotchner— which was probably why he didn’t like it whenever I got bratty with him. Our home life, our relationship, our sex life, and our jobs had to be absolutely perfect for him or it would offset his entire mood, and then everything else would come crashing down like a domino effect. And I hated that he was always under that pressure, and he never shared it with me. Perhaps Hotch and I were all too alike in the way that neither of us liked to be a burden to others, and sometimes the pain we were dealing with was something that just had to be dealt with privately. He probably didn’t tell me about all of the work he had because he didn’t want me to end up taking on some of the load to help him out— which was exactly what happened, anyhow.

“I brought you a change of clothes,” I told him, kicking the bag at our feet. “Fingers crossed that JJ doesn’t pull us into a case today.”

Hotch nodded agreeingly, putting his hand on my knee to help him lean forward again. “One can only hope,” he chuckled while picking up his coffee again to take a sip. His hand stayed on my knee as he got comfortable again. “Thank you for doing this. You didn’t have to.”

I put my hand over his for a moment before he flipped his palm over and intertwined his fingers with mine. “You’re just lucky that I remembered to grab you another tie,” I smirked.

He raised a brow in confusion, so I decided to enlighten him. With my free hand, I dug into the bag of clothes and pulled out the tie I brought for him. The red one he nearly wore to the Super Bowl party. The very same one he used to tie me up. He liked to wear it whenever he was in a mood because he liked to watch me squirm every time he would put it on. It was certainly the last thing he expected of me to bring it for him. But I liked catching him off guard with it when he had always managed to do it to me.

Hotch grabbed the end of the tie after I had wrapped it around my palm to show him what I meant, and he tugged lightly. His lips pressed against mine, but he didn’t pull away immediately like I had anticipated, so I did. He groaned quietly.

“You taste like coffee,” I whispered.

“I could taste like you,” he whispered back.

I bit my bottom lip. “Maybe after work, boss,” I patted his chest and unwrapped the tie from my hand. He was really regretting all of the rules he made for us, I could see it. I turned away like I was going to get up and walk out the door, but Hotch caught the back of my neck before I could get far and made me look at him. I gulped when I recognized the look in his eyes that told me I was on thin ice. “Sir…”

“Don’t ‘Sir’ me.”

“We’re at work…”

His hand slowly made its way from cradling the back of my neck to holding the front. “Oh, I won’t do anything now.” Shit. “Maybe after work,” he leaned in close, “brat.” His lips barely touched mine this time for another light kiss before he let go of my throat and turned back to his work and breakfast. “You have some work to do, don’t you?” he asked me after I hadn't left his office yet.

I cleared my throat and found the courage to stand on my weak legs. I shouldn’t have played with fire, I knew that… but… Wow… And now I was supposed to go work and not think about that? He knew what he was doing, and I figured that I should have seen it all ending up like that— or maybe I did, and that was why I had done it? That was more likely, to be perfectly honest. He knew what he was doing, and I knew what I was doing; but I thought that I’d have the upper hand since the rules were his own. Then again, there was the incident on the jet that one time… Maybe the rules weren’t necessarily “rules” but more of “guidelines” that Hotch liked to bend when it suited him.

The office door opened just before I could put my hand on the doorknob. JJ pushed into the room with a welcoming morning smile, not a “I’m sorry to do this, but we have a case” frown. Our good luck for the week was still going strong. She noticed the coffee, breakfast, and change of clothes for Hotch and realized that I had gone to all that trouble for him. She complimented me for doing it since “Hotch didn’t deserve it”, according to her. I laughed politely despite the fact that I could feel Hotch’s eyes staring at me and my knees were still wobbly. Once she told us that there were no cases yet, so there was no reason to gather in the boardroom, we both thanked her, and then I quickly pushed past to get to my desk.

Morgan was already at his desk, working on some other paperwork he had to do that wasn’t necessarily too important. When I sat down at my desk, he wheeled over while still in his chair with the Mulford files for us to start going through again. I picked up a pen and grabbed half of the stack, but while my eyes were glued to the pages, my mind was wandering. Hotch was sitting up in his office, likely also distracted, and that just made the need worse. No wonder Hotch never got any work done.

“Did you already write the account of finding Johnny Mulford?” Morgan asked, looking up from his work.

I batted my eyes as I shook away my trance. I looked at him in confusion, not having processed what he asked me yet. “Sorry,” I apologized for not paying attention.

“Did you write the report about how we found Johnny Mulford yet?” he asked again.

I shook my head, “No, sorry.”

We had agreed that I would take on the job of writing about how we found the Mulford’s family tow business— which was how they were able to trick their victims into trusting them— and I’d also talk about how we found Johnny Mulford already bleeding out, which was his cause of death. Morgan was going to write about how we found the victims in the woods and how we had no choice but to shoot Paul Mulford. It was us or him, and we didn’t hesitate to protect ourselves and each other. That was part of the job, but Morgan was better at explaining those kinds of things, so he took on the task of writing up that part of the report. It looked like he was already down recounting how we found the victims, and he was moving onto the hard part, which was Paul; and I still hadn’t finished documenting the information about the family business and how they hid the victims’ cars in shipping containers on the property before they could send them to the junkyard.

“Sorry, I’ll get right on that.”

Morgan shook his head and snorted, “Sure you will.” I glared at him and he jabbed my arm with the back of his pen. “I’m only messing around, Greenaway. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

My face fell flat. I picked up a sticky note, wadded it up, and chucked it at his bald head. “Don’t ever talk about my panties again.”

Morgan cringed away from my attack, “Aye, aye, Captain.” He rubbed his head where I hit him, “Did you have to throw it that hard?”

“You literally did it to yourself.”

“It’s been two hours of us just sitting here, writing this entire report out silently, and you have hardly done anything. Should I be worried?” He gasped, “Do I need to give Hotch the ‘don’t hurt my child’ talk? Because I will.”

I chuckled, “Right. Let me know when you’re going to do that so I can remember to hide all of the guns first.”

“So he didn’t upset you?”

“No. Hotch didn’t upset me. Why are you grilling me? What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m hungry and I’m bored. There’s a lot wrong with me.”

“You could say that again,” I laughed.

He grabbed his chest like his heart was aching. “Why do you have to hurt me so?”

“Because you deserve it when you’re being an epic tool.”

“Fair enough.”

“Don’t give him too much of a hard time,” Hotch commented as he walked up to us through the bullpen. Morgan and I both rushed to cover up our work before he could get too close and see that we were working on the Mulford case. When I looked back up, I noticed that Hotch was wearing the new clothes I had brought for him— including the red tie. I shifted in my seat, my thighs rubbing together ever so slightly. Hotch silently noticed, then proceeded to look suspiciously down at the files we used to cover what we were really working on. “Morgan, do you mind if I steal them away for an early lunch?”

Morgan glanced at his watch, “It’s only noon.”

“Like I said, early lunch.”

Honestly, with the work we had, I wasn’t sure how either of us could afford to go to an early lunch. He had all of those cases to review up in his office, and Morgan was right about me not making any headway with my half of the work. I looked around my desk to silently show him just how much work I had sitting around.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do here,” I told him.

“You can spare an hour, right?”

He looked to Morgan for back up, and I looked to Morgan for help getting out of it. I wanted to get this full report done sooner than later because I was supposed to be picking up Jack from school around 3:30. I just didn’t understand why Hotch was being so insistent on this. We hardly ever went out for lunch unless it was something special, and there wasn’t much that was particularly special about that day, besides maybe the tie, of course.

“Go for it,” Morgan gave in. I looked at him with wide eyes that said: “What the fuck?” and he grinned. “They get grumpy when they’re hungry,” he explained.

Hotch thanked Morgan before grabbing my things for me in order to coax me towards the door. I tried to protest, but Hotch was still walking and Morgan was still grinning. I glared at Morgan before throwing my arms up in defeat then chasing after Hotch. He held the door open for me and I walked straight past him and for the elevator. He handed me my purse after somehow beating me to pressing the “down” button.

Hotch picked a nearby restaurant that was considerably nicer than anything I had expected. I figured we would grab sandwiches or maybe even go to a diner like usual, but he picked a place where people normally had important business meetings where they wanted to look sophisticated and rich. It wasn’t the type of place one would go to for just an hour, which was the timeline Hotch gave Morgan before managing to take me away.

We got a table next to the window, the afternoon sun peaking through the trees that were planted on the sidewalk just outside. Hotch pulled out my chair for me before sliding it in under me then taking his seat across from me. I watched him as he silently picked up his menu to start looking for what sounded good to him. I squinted shortly at him, still trying to figure him out before cautiously picking up my own menu to look.

When the waiter came over to take our order, Hotch went first then nodded to me to go. After I gave my order, the waiter left and Hotch turned his phone over on the table to stop thinking about all of the different notifications he was getting from the office still. I put my elbows on the table and propped my chin up on my hand as I continued to stare at him. He was sitting up straight, staring back at me, thinking about something. We challenged each other in silence to see who would break first, but I knew that it wouldn’t be me. He would eventually want to know what I was thinking about, while I had a strong guess as to what it was he was imagining. Even if he had an idea of what I was thinking about, he certainly didn’t know the extent of it. There were so many unspeakable things of what I wanted him to do that had been racing through my mind all morning, and him sitting there with a stern silence wasn’t helping anything.

He reclined to the side, resting his left elbow on the arm of the chair, his thumb gently tracing his bottom lip back and forth. He was purposefully drawing attention to his mouth and fingers. I didn’t move, though. I still wasn’t going to give in.

The waiter returned with our food after a few minutes. He put Hotch’s food down first, and Hotch nodded a “thank you” before I got my food, too. He asked if we needed anything else, but Hotch and I both shook our heads. When Hotch and I were alone again, he picked up his fork and a steak knife before cutting into the filet he ordered. Yeah, it was that kind of a restaurant.

“Well, this is fun,” he said. He finally gave up.

“You’re the one who wanted to come here and haven’t said anything.”

“That’s because I was busy admiring.”

“Is that why you wanted to come here? Privacy?”

He nodded and took a bite. “Also, have you seen the Mulford case sitting around anywhere?” he asked, cutting into his steak again. I raised a faux brow of curiosity in response to his question. I was trying to keep my cool so that he couldn’t profile the truth out of me. “I was just curious because I went to start it today and noticed that it was gone.”

Well, shit. How did he already get through all of those other cases so quickly? What happened after I left his office that suddenly he was caught up enough to notice that the file was gone?

“You’re already starting the Mulford report? What about all those other cases you had sitting on your desk?”

“I pulled them as reference for the Mulford case. I just had to finish up the serial arsonist case file and then I was supposed to start the Mulford one today. The odd thing, though,” he mumbled before taking a bite. He waited to speak as he chewed, his eyes coming back up from his plate to look at me. He continued once his words had spun around in my head for a minute, “The odd thing is that I had it last night before I fell asleep. Now, I asked you what time you left the office, and you lied when you said ten o’clock. How do I know this? Well, I asked Anderson to check in with security, and they said that you and Morgan didn’t leave until about fifteen minutes passed midnight.” He took another bite. “So I had my suspicions, obviously, but it wasn’t until I decided to test you that I realized you and Morgan had taken it.”

“Test me?” I asked carefully, grabbing a french fry from my plate to make it look like I was entirely unfazed.

He nodded and sipped his water. “You never pass up the opportunity to go to lunch with me, but you were adamant about staying to work on whatever it was the two of you covered up on your desk before I could see.” He put his knife and fork down on the edge of his plate. “So, tell me, how’s your progress coming along?”

“Progress?”

I figured that playing dumb was better than flat out admitting anything. If the blame was put on Morgan, Hotch would just tell him to not do it again, but if the blame were put on me, there was a lot more that could happen to me behind closed doors. And while the thought itself was certainly appealing— especially after what Hotch said to me in his office that morning— I wasn’t actively looking to punish myself by continuing to dig myself into the hole I had created.

“You looked a little distracted after leaving my office,” he continued, “so I just want to make sure that you’re getting your work done and aren’t thinking about anything too hard.”

I choked on my food as he said it. “Stop it,” I whispered.

He knew he got me, and so he made the next move. “How much did you two do?”

“We thought you had more work than just those two cases. We were just trying to help out since we didn’t have much else to do.”

Hotch smirked.

“What?” I asked him.

“I wasn’t about to start the Mulford case,” he admitted. “I do have a bunch of other cases to work on, but I just happened to notice that it was gone.” I kicked his shin under the table. “How much did you do?” He just wanted to know now; he didn’t want to prove a point or find a reason to use his tie later— he had already done that.

Lying wasn’t going to get me anywhere now. I had practically admitted that we took the Mulford case and were working on it for him. “Almost half,” I gave in. “Someone’s been a little distracting all morning,” my ankle passed over his timidly.

“I told you after work, didn’t I?”

“But we have Jack,” I whined, knowing that our entire focus would be on spending time with him. I wanted Hotch… I wanted him so badly…

“He has to go to bed eventually.”

“You’re the worst.”

“No. I just enjoy watching you flounder. Besides, it sounds like you have a lot of work to do now.” He reached over the table and took my hand in his, “Seriously, though, thank you. You didn’t have to start that report, and you didn’t have to bring me breakfast and clothes this morning.”

“Of course I did… I love you. I’m here to help you whenever you need it— even if you refuse to ask for it.”

His eyes softened, “I’ll worry about picking up Jack at 3:30 so that you and Morgan can finish the report.”

“No, Hotch,” I shook my head vigorously, “you have so much going—”

“Let me do this since you’ve been doing so much. Please.”

I stared at him and felt his hand squeeze mine in a pleading way. How was I supposed to argue that? I didn’t do nearly as much as Hotch, we both knew it. Bringing him breakfast and clothes and taking on one case report was nowhere near close to what Hotch did for work and for me. Yet, he was insisting on doing more. I knew that even if I tried to argue it, he’d insist that I didn’t have to do what I did and so he wanted to step out of his way to do more. As a profiler, it was easy to look at our relationship and determine that we were a classic dominant and submissive couple, obviously. In our line of work, we would always discuss how the dominants would control their submissives, but they would also do anything to protect their submissives. Hotch and I weren’t any different in that respect. He’d be very commanding with me, which I loved, but he always had to go the extra mile for me because that was his role as the dominant. As the submissive, I was supposed to listen, obey, and just… feel loved. That was all he wanted for me. By going out of my way to help him out over the past couple of days, he felt the urge to return the favors ten fold to “prove” his love in some way. So even if I tried to argue against him going to pick up Jack, he’d ultimately slide back into his dominant personality, forcing me into my submissive state, and I’d have no choice but to let him. Either way, he was going to end up picking up Jack from school, and I was going to finish my work at the office with Morgan. And if I listened and obeyed like I was supposed to, our night would be fairly long, just as he promised.

“Fine,” I nodded. He stretched my hand across the table and kissed my knuckles. “But I’m going to bring him some ice cream home to make up for not picking him up since he was looking forward to it.”

Hotch gently released my hand and allowed me to retreat it back onto my lap. “Please don’t spoil him,” he smiled.

“Listen, I already spoil you enough, but he’s my favorite, so you can imagine the kind of pressure I’m under to spoil him even more,” I chuckled.

“He’s going to think that you’re cooler than me.” He picked up his knife and fork again.

“I’ve always been cooler than you.”

He chortled and nodded before taking another bite. I smiled back before grabbing another fry.

Back at the office, I followed Hotch up to his office, passing by Morgan, who was still working on his half of the report. Hotch closed and locked his office door behind me, the blinds were still still closed, and he turned off the lights. I grabbed his tie and pulled him close and he grabbed my waist to show me the same courtesy. He pushed me up against the wall, trapping me in his arms and against his whole body. I moaned into his mouth and grabbed at his hair. He groaned and slid his knee between my thighs.

“I still have work to do,” he whispered breathlessly, trying to find a reason to not keep going. The rules… We had to remember the rules… But it was so hard. “You’re going to have to wait.”

I moaned into his mouth again, “Please. I need you.”

“We can’t.”

“Sir…”

An animalistic groan left his throat as he forcefully parted himself from me. His chest was rising and falling dramatically as he tried to catch his breath and keep himself away from me. He wanted me, I could see it in his eyes, but he was trying so hard not to fuck me against that wall. I wanted him so bad— no, I needed him. It all started that morning and I couldn’t stop thinking about it since. He had so much more self control than I did, though, and he was going to do anything in his power to not break the one rule he held sacred. While I didn’t want to actively push that boundary with him, he had been practically encouraging my need for him.

“Please,” I whined, pulling at his tie again. I wanted him to pull it off his neck again and wrap it around my wrists before fucking me until I couldn’t stand. “Please, Sir.”

“Just a few more hours,” he pleaded with me. I leaned forward and kissed him again, but he put his hand on my chest and pushed me back against the wall. “I have to go talk to Gideon.” He took steps away from me as quickly as possible, knowing that he would pound me against the wall if he waited even one more second.

I took in a deep breath and collected myself as I stood up right against the wall. “I hate you so much,” I said quietly, fixing my hair.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

I looked between him and his tie for a moment, and he caught me staring. He smirked and I bit my lip. “Promise?”

He nodded eagerly, “I promise.”

I released my lip from between my teeth and pushed myself off the wall. “Okay.”

I tried my best to walk towards the door without falling over or just jumping right into his arms. I unlocked the door, opened it, and we both walked out. No one in the bullpen looked up at us, which was a sign that we hadn’t been too obvious, at least. We headed for the ramp in front of Gideon’s office so that he could divert into there and I could continue on towards the bullpen, but something caught our attention in Gideon’s office.

Hotch stuck his head in to see what Gideon was doing in a dark room, “You don’t have class today?”

Gideon shook his head, “Only around four this evening.” That was about two hours away.

Hotch stepped into the room, and I looked in to see what was so interesting. “You have Chaplin on film?” Hotch chuckled, impressed.

“Take a seat,” Gideon invited Hotch. “You, too, Y/N,” he smiled at me, catching me before I could run past to let them talk.

“Oh, no,” I insisted, throwing my hands up. “I don’t want to impose, and I should be getting back to work.”

“You can spare a few minutes. Come on.”

Yeah, I could spare a few minutes over an hour and a half ago when Hotch took me out to lunch. Now, Morgan was waiting for me to come back and finish the report with him. While Hotch knew the truth about the report, Gideon didn’t, and he couldn’t know. As far as he was aware, everyone was just sticking around until it was time to go home or they had finished their busy-work. Since neither time had approached for me, Gideon figured I had nothing better to do but to sit down and watch some movies.

I figured that I’d be able to sit down for a few minutes before being able to excuse myself to go work again, so I accepted Gideon’s offer. I walked in and stepped across the view of the projector. Hotch and I grabbed two of the chairs in the room and turned them to face the wall where Gideon was projecting some of Charlie Chaplin’s old movies. He had an old-timey, vintage projector that needed to be watched carefully to make sure that the film wouldn’t burn up or fall apart.

“My great-grandfather worked for one of the first big film companies in Chicago— since they made movies in Illinois at the time, not California. When they closed down, they let me grandpa take a few films home with him.”

Hotch chuckled again, “They let him take them home?”

Gideon laughed, too, “That's the story that’s been passed down, so I think we’ll stick with it.”

“I can’t believe you’ve had these hiding all this time,” I said, gazing in awe upon Charlie Chaplin’s brilliance. “It’s amazing.”

“Have you ever seen Chaplin?” Hotch asked me.

I shook my head. I knew who Chaplin was, but I had never seen anything of his creation. He was a pure genius. Movies like this were never made anymore, and it was such a shame. The creativity that was once so vibrant in these silent films had been slowly erased over time in the industry.

Our attention was pulled away from the screen when Morgan peeked his head into the room to see what we were doing. We looked at each other and he gave a slight nod back towards the bullpen, a silent signal that he was calling me back to work since I had been away for so long. Fair enough, I figured. Morgan probably didn’t expect that Hotch and I would be away for so long, and now I was hiding with him in Gideon’s office just watching old Chaplin movies.

I sighed, throwing my palms onto my knees, “Duty calls, boys.” I pushed myself to my feet.

Hotch and Gideon both gave short waves of goodbye as I walked past the projector and met up with Morgan in the doorway. I led the way down the ramp and into the bullpen. Morgan caught up with me just as I was sitting down at my desk. All of his work seemed to be done and neatly filed away in the case folder. He sat down with me and started talking me through everything he discussed in his half of the report. He described each of the crime scenes and how the victims were found, and how those clues led us to the Mulford family’s tow truck business. Once he wrote all of that out, he moved onto how we chased after Paul Mulford through the woods, found him aiming his weapon at their next target, and when we tried to stop him peacefully, he turned his bow on me, and Morgan and I had no choice to shoot him. The report itself was much more detailed than that, but that was the basic gist of it.

Morgan rolled his chair back over to his desk after showing me everything, “And with that, I am done for the day. It’s been lovely, but I’m ready to go home, put my feet up, crack open a beer, and watch TV for the next five hours.” He grabbed his shoulder bag from under his desk, “I will see you all tomorrow.” Everyone in the bullpen nodded and wished him a great rest of his afternoon and evening since he was so lucky to be going home early.

I hung my head over the work I had to do and tried to focus on just getting it done. Hotch was offering to pick up Jack for me, but Jack had been so excited to have me pick him up and work on his homework with him. He liked the way I taught him math because it didn’t come easily to him, but I somehow made it easy for him. I took the wins where I could get them, and if taking time out of my work to help Jack with his meant that I got a little more time with him and a few new memories to hold onto during cases, I wasn’t going to pass up on those opportunities. I just wanted to get home as soon as possible.

“We’ve got a case!” JJ told us while running into the office. Everyone spun around in their chairs to watch as she walked right by the break room and towards the ramp.

Morgan sighed, having just left Garcia’s office to say goodbye to her, and threw his head back in disappointment. “Come on, J! Let me live a little here!”

“Sorry, bud,” she smiled lightly as she kept storming up the ramp and into Gideon’s office.

Everyone moved onto their feet and slowly started making their way to the boardroom. The Mulford case was still open on my desk like I had hope that I would be able to get back to it in a few minutes, and then I would just go home to be with Hotch and Jack. We all knew that wasn’t going to be the case, though. Whatever case JJ had for us, wherever we were going, whatever we were going to do, we weren’t going to be home in time for dinner; which meant that neither Hotch nor I could pick Jack up now… He was going to be devastated— more so than Hotch and I were. We absolutely hated getting this close to seeing him, only to have the opportunity ripped away from us because of a new case.

“Everyone, this is Detective Cal McGee from the Kansas City Police Department,” JJ introduced us to the man standing in the room with her as we took our seats. I sat between Emily and Morgan, Spencer on Morgan’s other side, Hotch across from me, and Gideon on the couch. “We have sixty-three potential victims missing from his district.”

“Sixty-three?” Hotch inquired. JJ nodded and started handing out the case files. “How have they not been reported missing yet? How did it get this far?”

“Because they’re all homeless,” Detective McGee said, taking a step closer to the table. He set down a stack of mini notebooks and arranged them into neatly placed nine piles of seven.

“So, then, you aren’t actually sure if they are missing,” Hotch corrected. “Homeless people disappear all the time, simply because they don’t have anywhere to go and they don’t know anyone. It’s entirely possible they just moved on from your district.”

McGee shook his head adamantly, “No. I’m sure that they’re all missing. I just can’t seem to convince anyone else of it.”

“What proof do you have?”

McGee started passing out the mini notebooks in front of him to everyone around the table. Gideon was still reclining on the couch with his glasses on and the daily newspaper in his hands. I picked up one of the notebooks and flipped through it. The front page had a nickname for someone, and past that was a journal of who this person was as the detective had seen them and gotten to know them. Their age, their height, their build, the hair color, eye color, weight, posture, any noticeable handicaps, etc. There were pages upon pages about their personality and their history, but then it came to an abrupt end on the seventeenth of this month.

“I’ve tried to talk to people about this, but no one seems to believe me, so they won’t launch an official investigation. I was hoping that you guys could, though.”

“I don’t understand, what are these?” I asked, holding up the notebook in my hand before trading it for another on the table.

“Records,” the detective answered, taking the notebooks that had already been skimmed through and stacking them back in neat piles. “Since most of these people have been neglected by society and the government, there’s no one out there who wants to keep an eye on them, except for me. By keeping records of everyone I see, I can try to hopefully reunite them with someone they know— or, in this case, track that they’ve suddenly gone missing without a trace. I’ve already run all of the different names they have all given me through our computers and everything came up blank. If there happened to be any official records, they had been forgotten and there was nothing about them dying or going missing. For the most part, however, it came up blank. There’s nothing about where these people went.”

“Simply being gone isn’t a federal issue, I’m afraid,” Gideon broke the bad news from the couch. “We need an official invitation into your district by the Chief of Police or Chief of Detectives. Someone higher up has to tell us that they need our help.”

“Um… I— I don’t know… I don’t know if I can do that,” he stuttered nervously, rearranging all of the notebooks in front of him again.

“Unless we’re officially asked, we can’t help you,” Hotch said.

“Hotch,” JJ whispered, “there could be sixty-three victims here…”

She had a point. Sixty-three people just don’t go missing like this. If they weren’t homeless, more people would have been paying attention, too. We were these people’s only hope. There had to be something that he could do, right? He could talk to the district for McGee since he clearly hadn’t made any headway with them. Hotch knew as well as the rest of us what this meant and just how bad this could be. He wasn’t an asshole, he wasn’t just going to let these people continue to stay or go missing. If could help in some way, he was going to try.

“Well, I suppose that you and I could go with the detective and talk to his superiors,” Hotch offered to JJ. “If we get an invitation, we could send for the rest of you,” he addressed the team. We all nodded. It was a good plan. “JJ, be ready in thirty,” he stood up. “Y/N,” he gestured to the door, referencing that he wanted to speak to me privately outside. I pushed myself out of my seat and followed him out of the board room. He kept walking away from me as I tried to stay at his side. “Leave the Mulford report alone for now, I need you to take Jack over to Haley’s house for me.”

I stopped in my tracks for a moment as I processed what he had told me, but he didn’t stop. He wanted me to go to Haley’s house? He wanted me to meet Haley? And under these circumstances? He didn’t want to wait until he could officially introduce us and be the mediator in case claws were to come out? From what I knew, Haley was a wonderful person who loved Hotch very much, but she just couldn’t take him being away for so long anymore, and that was understandable. But she still loved Hotch, as I understood it, and she was still Jack’s mother. It would make sense if she were to feel protective and territorial over her ex-husband and son when it came to me. I was Hotch’s new partner, and things were going really well for us. Like, really well. If she had any hope that they were going to get back together someday, that was squashed when things between her ex and I got serious.

I skipped up a few steps to catch up to Hotch, “You’re not serious—”

“Just pick him up from school and drop him off at her house.”

“Hotch, no— Why can’t Jessica pick him up?”

“She took on another shift at work, apparently. What’s wrong with you?” he raised a brow as he turned into his office.

I stopped in the doorway and watched as Hotch grabbed his go bag. “I just don’t understand why you want me to visit your ex-wife so bad.”

He set his go bag on his desk and stared at me. “This isn’t about Haley,” he shook his head, disappointed that I would think anything otherwise. “If we end up taking this case, you need to be here and ready to get on the jet. You can’t be at home with Jack.” He threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder and walked over to me. “You don’t have to do anything but take him up to the door, explain to Haley that we have a new case out of state, and we’ll call her when we’re done to give her a heads up that we’re going to pick him up. That’s all.” He put a hand on my cheek and caressed it with his thumb.

“Doesn’t that break, like, a thousand custody rules?” I asked.

Hotch never talked to me about what happened with his divorce to Haley. It was a painful time for him, and the memories stung even worse. All I knew was that he had made it as painless as possible for everyone in order to protect both Haley and Jack. He didn’t want to hurt his relationship with either of them, so he signed whatever she wanted. But I didn’t know what the custody rules surrounding their divorce entailed except for the fact that Hotch would tell me when it was our turn to see Jack, and we would drop him off at Jessica’s house if we ever needed to go into work suddenly. I didn’t know if Haley wanted me to even be around her son. I didn’t know if Haley was alright with me just leaving him at her door and then coming back to collect him whenever we felt like.

“When Haley and I got divorced, we knew that this would happen, and so we took into account that there could be times when my custody days would be impeded. We decided that if need be, she could just take him during cases and I would pick him up afterwards and he’d spend the amount of time he was supposed to stay with me afterwards.” He kissed my forehead before shrugging playfully to ease my nerves. “She’ll understand.”

I looked at him and made sure that his touch wouldn’t leave my cheek yet. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Does it matter?”

Of course it fucking mattered. I loved Hotch and Jack with every fiber of my being. I wanted to spend every second of my future with them, but living that life included having to know and get along with Haley for the sake of both Jack and Hotch. If she didn’t like me, she could end up making my life hell, and she could possibly take it out on Hotch by not letting us see Jack as often or with such a flexible schedule as he insisted they had. I also didn’t want to hate her because she was Jack’s mother, and he, naturally, loved her. I didn’t want to have to put him in an awkward position growing up where he would be put between this feud Haley and I could potentially have. There was so much at stake with this first meeting, and Hotch was acting like it was just another random day.

“You’re going to be fine,” he reassured me. “Just get back here as soon as you can.” He lifted my chin and pulled me in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“Call me when you land.”

“I’ll try. I’ll call the school and let them know that you’re picking him up.”

“I love you.”

He pulled his hand away from my face and grabbed my hand before we started walking towards the door together. The team was still sitting in the boardroom with Detective McGee, covering all of the different missing persons cases as fast as they could. When we reached the bullpen, Hotch released his grip on my hand before anyone could notice, and we parted ways. He went to go talk with JJ over in the break room and I went to my desk to grab my purse. I caught a quick glance of the back of Hotch’s head before I pushed through the glass doors of the BAU and hurried for the elevator before it could close on me.

Jack’s school was already letting kids out when I pulled up to the building behind the line of other cars against the curb. After I parked the car, I hurried into the school and shyly asked someone where Jack’s grade’s classroom would be. They kindly directed me and I thanked them before heading off. I navigated all of the different hallways until I found the doorway that I had been sent to. There was a teacher standing just outside with a clipboard and a pen. I walked over and she asked me who I was picking up.

“Jack Hotchner,” I answered.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N Greenaway.”

“Greenaway? Where’s Haley or Jessica?” she asked me. Oh, so she knew them by name… Well…

I dodged her question to get to the point. “My boyfriend called to tell the school that I would be picking him up.”

“Y/N!” Jack exclaimed from the back of the classroom. He came running over to me with his backpack in his hand rather than on his back.

I leaned down and caught him in my arms before resting him on my hip. “What’s up, little man?” I asked rhetorically. I turned back to the teacher. “Are we good to go?”

She nodded warily and crossed mine and Jack’s name off the list of pick ups. “See you tomorrow, Jack,” she smiled. He waved goodbye to her as I took his backpack in my other hand and started carrying him out of the school.

“How was school?” I brushed some dirt off of his forehead that had likely collected during recess.

“Good. Are we going to get ice cream?”

He knew that I always liked to spoil him with ice cream whenever he was at our house, and he must have figured that since I promised to pick him up from school, we were going to head straight to Dairy Queen or Cold Stone. I felt bad for having to burst his bubble because he was so excited to hang out with me and see his dad, but it was better to just rip the bandaid off rather than wait until we got to his mother’s house.

“I’m sorry, little man, your dad and I have to go on another case this afternoon. I have to take you to your mom’s house.”

Jack frowned, “But you promised that we were going to get ice cream.”

“I know, but your dad and I have to go save the world again, so we don’t have time for ice cream.” I set him down in front of the car door and opened it up for him. He climbed inside and I set his backpack on the floor in front of him before reaching in to help him with his buckle. “We’ll get ice cream when we come back and pick you up from your mom’s house, though. How does that sound?”

Jack was still pouting, his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. He looked exactly like Hotch when he was mad, too. I wanted to chuckle, but I knew that it would only make Jack more upset. I crossed my arms and frowned, too, and leaned against the back of the passenger’s side car seat.

“Why the long face, little man?” I asked. He knew that it was always possible that Hotch and I would need to leave randomly and in a hurry. He was used to it. Usually, he didn’t even mind because he knew that we were off saving the world, which ultimately protected him and his mom, too.

“I wanted to stay at your house tonight,” he whined quietly. “You promised.”

My eyes softened as I gave up the joke of mimicking him in order to wipe off some more dirt I found on his chin. He was such a messy kid… “I know, buddy. And I’m so sorry. But you know that when the police need our help, we have to go. If I could, I’d stay at home with you all the time. That’s how much I love you, you know that?” Jack nodded, still forcing a frown on his face. “Come on, Jack,” I begged quietly.

It was already hard enough having to leave him again when we got so close to having more time with him. His puppy dog pouting wasn’t helping anything. I wanted to stay with him, I wanted to take him for ice cream, and I wanted to read him bedtime stories that night, but I had no choice. When duty called, duty called. And, honestly, the best case scenario was that when Hotch and JJ would land in Kansas City, they’d tell us that we can’t get the case, and we’d all be sent home. Maybe this was all for naught and Jack would be staying at our house tonight, anyways. Until then, though, I just needed him to work with me and not make this any harder.

I reached out and “stole his nose” with my fingers. “I love you,” I told him.

He instinctively wiped his nose and smiled behind his hand. “I love you, too.”

I “put his nose back” before pushing myself up from reclining on the seat. He was smiling, he was trying not to giggle, and we were going to be fine. I closed his door and went around the back of the car to get to the driver’s side car door.

When we pulled up to Haley’s house, Jack unbuckled himself, grabbed his bag, and let himself out of the car. I threw my keys in my palm after closing my car door behind me. Jack waited for me on the sidewalk. I held out my hand as I got closer and he took it. We walked together up the sidewalk and to Haley’s front door. I reached over and rang the doorbell. We waited a moment before the lock clicked and Haley opened the door.

“Mommy!” Jack cheered as he let go of my hand and ran to hug her.

Haley smiled and picked him up, “Hey, kiddo.” She looked up at me, “You must be Y/N. Aaron called to tell me you were dropping him off. Thank you for picking him up and bringing him here.”

“It was no really no problem,” I smiled back, fidgeting with the keys in my hands. Jack wriggled out of Haley’s arms and ran into the house to go play or start doing homework— whatever he fancied before his mother would inevitably force him to start his homework, irregardless. “I’m sorry for springing him on you like this.”

“It’s really no problem,” she shook her head, still smiling. “I get it.” She glanced over her shoulder quickly to make sure that Jack was gone. “He was really excited about seeing you guys. It’s been a few weeks.”

“I know…” I whispered, looking at my hands. “There’s not much I can do about it.”

Haley chuckled shortly, “That sounds familiar.”

I brought my eyes back up to meet hers. She was sizing me up, that much was obvious. She wanted to know if I was good for Hotch and their son. She wanted to know the kind of person I was and if she could trust me around Jack. I didn’t blame her. I was a stranger that was now sleeping in her old bed beside her ex-husband and I was now a large part of her son’s life. She wanted to know if I was responsible, if I showed in any way just how much I loved Hotch and Jack. She wanted to know that I would keep them safe.

My phone started ringing as the awkward silence hung in the air. I answered, “Aaron?”

“We got the case,” he told me.

I sighed quietly so that he couldn’t hear it. We weren’t going to get to see Jack for at least another few days. “Okay. I’ll head back to the office. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He hung up the call.

I stuffed my phone back in my pocket. “I have to go,” I told her. She nodded understandingly. I bowed my head and turned to start walking back to the car, but I stopped myself in my tracks. I spun on my heels to face Haley before she could close the front door, “Will you tell him that I’m sorry for me again? I don’t think he quite believes me.”

She paused, her hand still on the inside doorknob, and then she nodded. “He loves you a lot, you know. He tells me all the time.”

I smiled to myself as I continued on my way towards the car after silently acknowledging her statement.

What she said lifted my spirits more than realized, I think. I didn’t like having to leave Jack at all, but to think that he was mad at me, that made it only more painful. For Haley, his mother, to have the bravery to look me in the eye and admit that her son loved me, that was a relief. She didn’t have to be kind to me like that. Hell, I was scared shitless just before meeting her because there were so many reasons for her to hate me and make my life a living hell. But something about how she sized me up— or profiled me, if you will— made her mind up about me. She was okay with me being in Hotch and Jack’s life, and she was okay with Jack loving me as a parent figure. That meant everything to me.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner imagines

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itsyourchoice-hp · 3 years

Text

Year 2: Intruder in the Castle

The sound of a door being closed very suddenly caused Cath to wake up with a start. For a moment she was very confused as she realized she was wearing her school robes.

“Cath!” Ginny said urgently stood over her bed, panting.

As she rolled over, she saw a textbook lying open beside her and the crumpling of parchment under her. Cath sat up, remembering that she had stayed up until around 2:30 trying to finish a Charms essay that was due the next morning. Then panic hit her like a jolt of electricity.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse from lack of sleep.

“You’re late!” Ginny replied.

“Bollocks!” Cath cursed, leaping out of bed. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Well, I thought you were just going to sleep past breakfast! When you didn’t come to class, I realized you probably hadn’t set an alarm or heard the bell… I told Professor Flitwick that I left my wand in the dorm so I could come to wake you up,” she explained as Cath threw on a spare school blouse and her shoes.

“I can’t believe I slept in!” Cath moaned, gathering her bag and collecting the crumpled papers on her bed. “Ugh, my essay is probably ruined.”

“As long as you’ve got all the papers, let’s go! You can sort it out once we’re in the classroom,” Ginny said.

Cath tried to comb through her hair as they hurried down the staircase. She groaned in misery, and her stomach groaned right back. All the work she had put into her essay last night was certainly not paying off.

Luckily, the Charms class was the closest to the Gryffindor Common Room, and just before they arrived at the closed door of the classroom Ginny stopped her.

“Go in a minute after me, or else we’ll look suspicious,” Ginny instructed in a whisper. Cath nodded, and watched from around the corner as Ginny opened the door and entered the classroom.

“Welcome back Ms. Granger,” Professor Flitwick said in his squeaky voice. “Did you manage to find your wand?”

“Ah — well, I think it actually might be in my bag after all,” Ginny replied. A few classmates snickered. “Silly me.”

“Well, anyhow, please take your seat so that I may continue the lesson,” he told her.

Cath heard the scraping of a chair on the ground and then Professor Flitwick continued the lecture. She waited for a few beats, dreading walking into the classroom and interrupting him. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to look in the mirror before she left, or even brush her teeth.

Drawing in a deep breath and trying to muster as much confidence as she could, Cath opened the door. All heads turned to her. She quickly took the nearest empty seat, beside a Hufflepuff boy named Winston McCarthy.

“Ms. Malfoy,” Professor Flitwick addressed her from atop his stack of books, looking slightly put off that he had to pause his lesson once again. “I see you’ve decided to join us this morning.”

“I’m so sorry, Professor,” Cath began. “I was up so late finishing my essay, and I—”

“I don’t need an excuse, Ms. Malfoy, but I do need your essay,” he interrupted, gesturing to the stack of completed essays on his desk.

Cath, feeling quite embarrassed, opened her school bag and pulled out her wrinkled essay, trying to quickly put them in order. Her face went very red as she felt the student’s eyes on her.

“We’ll sort this out after class,” Professor Flitwick said. “Now, where were we?”

Cath sighed, pulling her textbook and wand out of her bag as he resumed the lecture. She made eyes with Ginny, who gave her a sympathetic smile.

“At least it’s not Potions class,” Winston whispered to her with a wry smile.

She nodded in reply. Winston had a point; if she had shown up late to Professor Snape’s class with a crumpled-up essay she would have been embarrassed in front of the class and most likely given detention.

After the class was over, Cath stayed behind, smoothing out her essay and putting it in order. There were a few splats of smudged ink on the last page and an unfinished concluding paragraph, presumably where she had fallen asleep.

“Here’s my essay,” she said to Professor Flitwick, handing him the parchment. She could see him flip through it and pause at the last page where the ink smudges were. “Again, I’m… really sorry.”

“Did you complete it?” he asked her.

“No, Professor,” she replied, picking nervously at a loose thread on the sleeve of her white blouse. She noticed as she looked down that she had a run in her stockings. Could this day get any worse? she thought, groaning inwardly.

“Well, if you spent so much time on it, I’m sure it will be an excellent essay,” he said, placing it on the stack on his desk. “Now I suggest you don’t be late for your next class.”

“Thank you, Professor,” she said gratefully before collecting her things and leaving the classroom. Ginny was waiting for her outside.

“Cheer up,” she said to Cath. “At least we’ve got Defence next. And you won’t believe what happened at breakfast.”

“What?” Cath asked, perking up as she remembered that they were about to see Professor Lupin.

“Harry got a Firebolt in the mail!” she replied.

Cath’s eyes widened. The Firebolt was the newest and fastest racing broom in the world. Draco had been begging their father all summer for one who had in return told him that his only chance of getting one was if Draco could get top marks in their year.

“Who sent it to him?” she asked Ginny eagerly. “Has he tried it yet?”

“That’s the thing — there was no letter, or tag, or anything! We’ve got no idea who could have sent it to him,” Ginny said.

“That’s odd,” Cath frowned.

“Hermione insisted he turn it in to get it tested for curses or hexes,” Ginny continued. “But he obviously wasn’t too keen on that.”

“But who would want to curse Harry?” Cath asked.

“Besides You-Know-Who?” Ginny pointed out in a low voice.

“You don’t think he’s back, do you? I mean I thought after what happened last year…” Cath trailed off, noticing that Ginny was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable.

Both entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, expecting to see Professor Lupin smiling at them. Instead, they were faced with the sour glare of Professor Snape who loomed over them as they took the remaining seats, conveniently at the very front of the classroom.

“What are you doing here?” Ginny blurted out.

Cath elbowed her in the side.

“Take your seat, Weasley,” Snape replied sharply.

Ginny obliged, not bothering to hide her unhappy expression. Cath sat down beside her, feeling thoroughly disappointed that their lesson wouldn’t be taught by Professor Lupin.

“Where’s Professor Lupin?” asked Colin Creevey from the back of the classroom.

“Professor Lupin is… ill for the time being,” Professor Snape replied. Cath thought she saw his lips curl in what looked like a sneer. “Take out your textbooks.”

The sound of students shuffling around in their schoolbags filled the classroom, which was thick with disappointment and dismay.

“Wonder what’s wrong with him,” Cath heard Penelope Dawson whisper to Dan Hadfield from behind her.

“I sure hope he gets better soon,” Dan muttered in reply.

The whack of Snape’s measuring stick against the blackboard caused everyone to jump. “Silence,” he snapped. “I don’t know what kind of a classroom Professor Lupin keeps, but I do not tolerate students talking out of turn when I’m about to begin a lesson.”

Nobody made a sound.

“I see that your content for the year is very… simple,” he continued. “The curses you are to learn about this year are ones that I would teach first year students. Were it up to me, you would be studying more advanced things, such as dark creatures. Vampires, werewolves… the like. But since Professor Lupin seems to have such low expectations of you, we will pick up today on chapter 4.”

As the words Chapter 4: Basic Curses and Countercurses appeared on the blackboard, Cath and Ginny exchanged grim looks.

For the remainder of the class, Cath was distracted both by the thought that the lesson would be far more interesting if Professor Lupin were teaching it, and by Ginny drawing rather rude doodles of Professor Snape on the corners of her parchment paper when he had his back turned to them and then quickly scribbling over them before he noticed.

***

Cath and Ginny were studying in the Great Hall, trying to get a head start on the essay that Professor Snape had assigned to them. Ginny, who had become bored quite quickly, had made a paper airplane out of a spare piece of parchment and had levitated it into the air, making it fly in circles around Cath’s head.

Cath heard the sound of running coming towards them and saw Hermione approaching them, her wild hair bouncing at her shoulders.

“Cath,” she said, looking concerned. “Draco is in the hospital wing.”

Cath frowned. “Is he alright? What happened?”

“He’s fine… he was injured in Care of Magical Creatures. Class was dismissed early. I just thought you’d want to know,” she explained.

“Thanks,” Cath replied. “I suppose I’ll go check on him. We weren’t getting that much done anyway.”

“It’s just so boring,” Ginny complained. “I know Snape’s been after the Defence position for years, but he’d be horrible at it.”

“Our lesson was strange too,” Hermione replied. “He skipped past what Professor Lupin was teaching us and went way ahead to our second term curriculum. He taught us about werewolves today…”

“He must have an obsession with them,” Ginny snickered. “because he mentioned them in our class, too.”

“I hope Professor Lupin gets well soon,” Cath said, standing up from the table.

“So do I,” Hermione replied, though she was frowning slightly as if in thought. “Anyways, I’ve got to get started on my essay. See you both later.”

Cath saw her pull an astronomy textbook out of her bag and flip to a diagram of the moon cycle as she walked away. “Well,” she said to Ginny. “I suppose I should visit my brother and see what happened to him. I’m sure he’s making quite a fuss about whatever it is.”

“I’ll be here,” Ginny sighed, sending the paper airplane zooming around the Great Hall.

Cath walked over to the Hospital Wing. It was empty, save for the bed where Draco lay. His arm was bandaged up and in a sling. “Draco,” she called, hurrying over.

He looked over and gave a wave with his other hand. “I guess you heard then news,” he said weakly, as though he were quite sick.

Cath raised an eyebrow. “They’re amputating your arm?” she asked sarcastically. Draco was known to be overdramatic about nearly everything, especially injuries. Cath suspected it was how he got attention from their parents.

“Hope not,” Draco replied, looking mournfully out the window.

“Well? What happened, then?” she prompted.

“That stupid oaf Hagrid,” Draco said. “He thought it would be a good idea to bring Hippogriffs to our first class.”

“Hippogriffs?” Cath said in surprise.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Harry made a big show of how easy it was for him to gain its respect. I thought I could do it too. But when I approached it, it just attacked me!”

Cath suspected that Draco wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that it would be extremely painful to be attacked by the razor-sharp claws of a Hippogriff. “Well, it could have been a lot worse.”

“It nearly killed me!” Draco snapped.

“I’m glad your alive,” Cath said, feeling frustration and annoyance toward her brother. She didn’t understand how they could be so different.

“I’ve already written a letter to Father and Mother,” he said. “He’ll be furious when he finds out that Dumbledore let that giant teach at Hogwarts.”

Cath felt slightly defensive. Although she didn’t know Hagrid very well, she could tell from their one visit that he had a heart of gold and extensive knowledge about magical creatures.

“I’m sure it wasn’t Hagrid’s fault that the Hippogriff scratched you,” she said reasonably. “It’s not like he set it on you or anything.”

“Who’s side are you on?” he snapped.

“Well, if you weren’t constantly trying to one-up Harry maybe you wouldn’t have been scratched at all. You know it could have been a lot worse,” she replied angrily.

“I see,” he said coldly. “You’re taking his side. You just want the Chosen One to notice you, don’t you?”

“Draco,” she said. Part of her felt embarrassed, but most of all she was angry at Draco for being so selfish. It seemed that every year he found some reason to let his jealousy of Harry get in the way.

“Pathetic,” he shook his head.

“Why are you so jealous of him?” Cath asked. “You’re his friend.”

“Did you come here to visit me or to rub it in your face that you like Harry more than me?” he asked.

“For Merlin’s sake, Draco! That’s not what any of this is about,” Cath was almost at a loss for words.

“Get out,” he said.

“Come on—”

“Leave!” Draco nearly yelled.

Cath sighed in frustration. Draco turned his head away and refused to look at him. She knew he’d come around, as always, but she wished that he didn’t have to be so jealous all the time. Knowing that there was no chance of Draco speaking to her, she turned around to leave without a single feeling of sympathy towards him.

Merlin’s beard, he can be stubborn, Cath thought angrily. Draco could sulk all he wanted, but Cath knew that if she didn’t give him the reaction he wanted, he would come around and act as if nothing had happened. Draco loved being the center of attention, and he loved to be able to influence people who listened to him. If he wasn’t, he acted out like he’d just done to Cath.

As she walked through the doors of the Great Hall, she scanned the table for where she’d left Ginny. She had moved a little further down the table and seemed to be talking to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Ginny saw Cath approaching them and waved.

“Well?” she asked as Cath sat down next to her. “How is he?”

Seamus and Dean, sitting on the other side of the table, exchanged looks as Cath heaved a frustrated sigh. “He’s fine,” she replied. “It’s not as bad as he made it look.”

“Gave everyone a right scare, that’s for sure,” Seamus commented. “Hagrid tried to warn everyone to be careful around Hippogriffs.”

“He just went right for it,” Dean said.

“I guess he underestimated how dangerous they are,” Cath said, firmer than she intended. As soon as she said it, she wondered why she was defending her brother when she was so upset with him.

Seamus and Dean became very quiet, and Ginny awkwardly cleared her throat. “Well… at least he’ll be okay, I suppose,” she said, clearly trying to help diffuse the tension.

“Yeah,” Cath replied. “I think I’m going to go back to the dorm. I need my Transfiguration textbook.” Before anyone could reply, she stood up and collected the homework that she had left a few seats down.

Cath had always assumed from what Draco had said in his first year that he was well-liked and popular. She’d never considered the fact that some people might think poorly of him, or dislike him. She’d certainly never had to come to his defence, or feel that she needed to prove him to other people. For what felt like the hundredth time, Cath wondered why her and Draco were so different, and why she was the only Gryffindor in her family when the rest were Slytherins in every sense of the word.

***

The Great Hall was lined with thick, plush sleeping bags, and without the long tables and chairs, it suddenly looked so cavernous and empty. Cath and Ginny huddled close together, as the murmuring students made their way to where their House usually sat at meals. There seemed to be a collective sense of fear and worry, for what had happened earlier that day had nearly sent the school into a panic.

From what Cath had pieced together from different students, the portrait of the Fat Lady had been slashed to bits earlier that evening. When she was found, she had claimed that Sirius Black had attacked her when she had refused him entry into the Gryffindor Common Room.

“You don’t think he’s really here, do you?” Ginny whispered uncomfortably.

“I don’t know… but I think we have a good reason to think so, if we’re all sleeping in here,” Cath replied. She felt nervous, despite the fact that teachers were keeping watch over them. “What I want to know is why he tried to get into our Common Room.”

“It’s strange, you know,” Ginny said slowly as if putting pieces together. “Dumbledore ordered Dementors, of all creatures, to protect Hogwarts. The same creatures that guard Azkaban. And then Sirius Black breaks into the castle… How did Dumbledore know that he would come here?”

“Maybe there’s something inside the castle that he wants,” Cath suggested.

Both fell silent. Thinking about it would only frighten Cath more, so she turned her focus to the ceiling of the Great Hall, reflecting the dark, swirling skies outside. Now that it was mid-October, the sun set much earlier and although it was only eight o’clock, it was pitch dark out. Cath stared up at the stars, and the nearly-full moon as she drifted off to sleep.

She slept rather restlessly, partly because she wasn’t used to sleeping on the hard ground of the Great Hall with the entire student body around her, and partly because she didn’t want to be caught unaware by a mass murderer.

Cath felt as though she had only just closed her eyes when she awoke to the chatter of students and the rustling of sleeping bags. She had to blink for a moment as she looked up at the sunlight streaming through the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Students were beginning to wake up and gather with their houses.

“Gryffindor students, please gather around me!” Percy Weasley called loud and clear, waving his hand in the air.

“Shut up Perce,” Ginny muttered from beside Cath, sitting up and yawning widely. She looked at Cath. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not great,” Cath replied. “I feel like I hardly got a wink.”

“Me too,” Ginny said.

They both got out of their sleeping bags and made their way over to the group of Gryffindor students. Chelsea Bingsley, the Gryffindor Prefect, waved them over.

“Morning girls,” she said with a bright smile. The blue smudges under her eyes betrayed her bright attitude; it looked as though she had hardly slept either. “Breakfast is in the Common Room today. Classes have been canceled.”

“Brilliant!” Ginny said.

Cath heard Ron a little ways off. “I’m starving.”

“How is it that you’re always hungry?” Hermione rolled her eyes.

Cath and Ginny both made their way over to the three of them as the Gryffindor students began to exit the Great Hall.

“Have you heard anything?” Cath asked them.

Harry shook his head no. “Nothing.”

“I suspect the teachers are trying to keep things under wraps,” Hermione said in a low voice. “Just imagine how poorly it would affect their image if the whole school was in chaos. I don’t think we’ll be hearing any details.”

“I imagine Dumbledore’s under a lot of pressure to keep everything under control,” Ron speculated. “I don’t envy him, that’s for sure.”

“Do you think he was actually in the castle?” Ginny asked. “How could he have gotten past all the security measures and the Dementors?"

Cath realized the gravity of what Ginny had just said. If it was true that Sirius Black had entered the castle, gotten through the enchantments on the perimeter of the castle, and survived the Dementors, he had to be one of the most powerful wizards alive.

“You should have seen the Fat Lady,” Ron said. “We were there right after it happened. She was hysterical. I’ve never seen anyone so frightened.”

“That’s enough,” Percy interjected, appearing beside them. “I won’t have you spreading fear among the students.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Lay off, Percy. I’m only telling them what happened yesterday.”

“What happened is none of your concern,” said Percy sternly.

Ron muttered something very rude under his breath as Percy pushed past them to get to the front of the group. They had arrived at the entrance to the Common Room. Cath and the others were too far back to see the portrait, but they could hear what was going on.

“Greetings, brave comrades!” came a voice from the portrait.

“Good morning, Sir Cadogan,” Percy said. “Everyone, we have decided to appoint Sir Cadogan to… guard the Fat Lady’s post while she is taking a much-needed rest.”

“It is my duty to serve and protect Gryffindor House until death,” the voice said again.

Cath craned her neck to see what was going on. She caught a glimpse of the new portrait and saw a knight in full armor, brandishing a sword and sitting on a very fat and tired-looking pony.

“If you wish entrance, you must present the password,” he said as though it were some sort of dangerous quest.

“Yes, we know,” Percy said shortly. “Oddsbodkins.”

“Bless you!” Fred said, handing Percy a handkerchief.

“The password is oddsbodkins,” Percy repeated.

“I grant you entrance, brave soldiers,” Sir Cadogan said, bowing and swinging open.

“They must have gotten him from the loony bin,” Ron muttered.

One by one, the students crawled through the portrait hole and into the warm Common Room. It was nice to be back in such a familiar place. The fire was roaring, and against one wall was a table full of food.

“Please form an orderly queue!” Percy instructed. He was unsuccessful in his attempts to form a line, as hungry students nearly knocked him over trying to get to the table.

Hermione shook her head in disappointment, giving disapproving looks to students who were trying to budge past each other.

“Cath, would you do me a favour?” Ginny asked. “I’m so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open. Do you think you could save me some food while I go take a nap?”

Cath nodded and Ginny thanked her before heading up the staircase towards the girl's dormitory.

Ron pushed through the crowd, holding his plate piled with food above his head so it didn’t get knocked over. When he saw Cath he walked over to her.

“I’m so glad classes are canceled,” he remarked. “I’ve got this stupid Divination assignment due today that I haven’t started on yet.”

“I was really dreading Potions today,” Cath agreed.

��Gryffindor is having a practice for the match tomorrow. Fancy coming to watch with Hermione and I?” he asked before taking a huge bite of toast and marmalade.

Cath nodded. “I’d love to.”

Despite last night’s events, the students seemed to be in good spirits. Having the day off of classes put nearly everyone in a pleasant mood, and much of the day was spent in the Common Room playing games, studying, and talking excitedly about the Quidditch match a few days away.

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youllallriseintheink · 4 years

Text

Shining Light, chapter 2: A New Feeling

Hey, I figured out an actual name for the Norman x Sammy fic a whole week late. Well, better late than never. I hope this is enjoyable for everyone. This is probably going to be the last chapter of this. After this, I’ll get the last chapter of Early Ink Hell out, and then I have some one-offs planned.

---

The next three days passed fairly uneventfully. Norman didn’t have to do much- in fact he actually did follow Wally around a bit while Sammy was busy with something else. He also enjoyed watching Sammy squirm while trying to keep his cool. Thankfully it wasn’t deadline season or he probably wouldn’t have made it.

Finally, the Friday night arrived. Right before closing, Sammy asked Norman, “So? Was I well-behaved enough for you?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll pick you up at 6:30. I know just the place.”

Norman was determined to make this work. A part of him was anxious, but that was good- he hadn’t been anxious up until now because he’d assumed there was no chance of moving forwards. Now there was something to lose. Still, looking in the mirror to see how the tie he'd chosen went with his outfit, he was excited and grateful for the chance.

The doorbell rang. It was Sammy, here to begin their date. They made idle chat about the weather on the way to the restaurant that Sammy had chosen- nothing groundbreaking, but nothing disastrous, either. After they were seated, Norman said what he'd planned to say once conversation had died down- which it had.

“So, Sammy, how did you end up working at Joey Drew Studios?”

Sammy laughed bitterly. “Oh, that? When I was twenty, my good friend Henry convinced me to drop out of my music honours degree while the studio was barely off the ground. Not sure how he did that.”

Norman could work with this. He knew some interesting things about Henry. “You knew Henry? Interesting. You know, I found out a while ago that he’s actually the studio’s co-founder.”

“And the fact you had to dig for it is probably the reason he left,” Sammy said, still bitter and a little disinterested.

“Oh,” Norman said, unsure of what else to say. Sammy’s eyes seemed to dig into him. “Uh, want to hear all the things that Wally says behind your back?”

Sammy's eyes sparkled. "Yes!"

"And after that, maybe I could tell you all the things Susie says behind your back. And Joey says behind everyone's backs." Sammy's eyes just kept getting wider and wider. "And uh, after that, are you into birds?"

"Well, it's worth all the other stuff at least! So, what [i]does[/i] Wally really think of me, hmm?"

"Well, you know. Him and Susie, two biggest gossips in the studio, don't think they've ever stopped arguing about whether you're the most charming, adorable, handsome, passionate creature that ever lived, or just an angry, temperamental bully. Don't think either of em' will ever convince the other, but it is fun to..." Norman was going to say "to watch," but decided against it. "Y'know. Overhear."

Sammy smiled. "Are you cheering for either one of them?"

Norman blushed. Sammy wanted to hear him side with Susie, obviously, but he was nowhere near naive enough. "I, uh, I think they're both pretty biased, honestly. I mean, they're both seeing completely different sides of you. I mean, I watch you guys work from an eagle-eye view, and half the time it just gives me an idea of what I don't know. I guess you should just take it as a compliment that I've seen so much of you, while you certainly weren't presenting for me, and what I saw had me buying gifts for you."

Sammy honestly didn't know what to say. "Wow, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

The two talked for a long time, everything going smoothly. After they paid up, Sammy debated on whether to pop the question. He had been planning to, but that was back when there was nothing to lose. Now, he had started to think that maybe, just maybe, this could work out as more than a one-night stand. But, he posed the question anyhow. "Norman, want to see my room tonight?"

Norman looked blankly into Sammy's lustful eyes and got the message. "Yeah, let's do it."

"My place or yours?"

Norman thought to his place, with all the pictures on the walls (a few of them of Sammy himself), and decided, "Yours. Mine's kind of a mess."

Even Sammy's apartment looked perfect- everything clean and white. Sammy pulled Norman by the hand to his room and said, "Alright. Now insult me creatively and tell me exactly what you want to do to me."

"What?"

"I'll start. Throw me against the bed and fuck my brains out, you filthy stallion!"

Norman blinked. Then, he picked Sammy up by the shoulders and tossed him onto the bed before jumping onto him and pinning him down. "I'm going to make you scream, you pompous show pony!"

After a night of rather strenuous activity, Sammy fell asleep in Norman's arms. [i]That went well,[/i] Norman thought.

When Norman woke up in the morning, Sammy was in the kitchen, wearing the same clothes from last night and cooking up some bacon and eggs. Two plates had been laid out on his table.

"Wow, thank you," Norman said, before realizing that he probably shouldn't assume that the second plate was for him. "I can do the dishes afterwards."

"Oh, don't bother," Sammy said. "You can thank me by planning our next date," There was a short pause, and Sammy turned around, looking almost afraid that Norman would say no. "You know, if you're up for that."

---

after three more dates, Norman and Sammy decided to make it official. "So, are we going to go public to the music room?" Norman asked. Somehow, they'd managed to keep anyone from finding out about their relationship.

"Sure. Maybe you can intimidate Wally into staying the hell away from me."

"How do you think Susie will react?"

"Oh, you know. Go cry in the lady's room, then come out and call us her new favourite couple and gush like we're a pair of celebrities. Actually, that was something that I wanted to ask you, Norman. I was going to ask Susie out before all this happened, and I was wondering if... you know, you liked her."

Norman thought on that. "Well, she sure is cute, I'll give her that. And cheerful and chirpy, when she's not crying over something. Kind of dramatic, though. Why'd you ask?"

"Well... I'm very grateful you aren't the jealous type. I'm sure that you've noticed that she's still courting with me, and I haven't been courting back, but I haven't been beating he away with a stick, either. Anyhow, I was wondering if we could ask her to join us when we go public."

Norman's face went blank, as it often did when he was nervous. "Why...?"

"Because she's nice, and cute, and we like each other, and I think you two might like each other? Isn't that enough reason? Anyhow," Sammy put a hand over Norman's, "if it doesn't work out, I promise that you're the one I'll stay with, alright? I know Susie can be dramatic, but I really think this'll work. And trust me, there's enough love in her to drown both of us."

Norman thought about it. He'd watched those bouncy blonde locks from his projector booth- much like Sammy, she'd been an object of mockery and physical admiration for him. And hey- this had always been a long shot. Sure, until they split off (and they would, Norman reminded himself), he'd have two beautiful little blonde dates. Crazy. "Sure. Sounds like quite the time."

The look on Susie's face when they asked her to join had been absolutely priceless-like a little fangirl getting to go out with her band of choice. The first week or two that they were dating, Norman did feel like the third wheel, as Susie and Sammy talked each others' ears off about parties and concerts and music and fashion and all the things that he couldn't relate to. They tried to include him, but he was like a mis-fit puzzle piece- a feeling didn't hurt Norman much because he was used to it. But, as Susie got to know him better, he started feeling more like an actual part of the relationship. Susie was just unbelievably loving, and Norman wasn’t used to that, but he really liked it. And the two of them didn’t look down on him, either- they showed him off in public as quickly as they would show off each other. Norman had no idea how he’d gotten lucky enough to have them, and he decided that so long as they were with him, he’d never let them come to harm.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #sammy x norman #sammy lawrence #norman polk #sammy x norman x susie

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quintalon · 5 years

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In Vino Veritas

Hermione stepped into the smoky pub, the wind from the open door swirling her robes around her legs. A few heads turned her way but most remained bent over their tumblers and tankards.

She spotted the reason she was called here, swaying as he made his way from the bar to a table along the back wall. He sat heavily in his chair, the legs squeaking across the stone floor. His normally perfectly coiffed hair was falling into his face and his robes were disheveled, one side having slid halfway down his arm. She nodded at Harry, who was seated beside him, and headed to the bar.

“A large glass of water, please.” She gestured over her shoulder towards her drunken friend. “For that one.”

The bartender nodded and smiled. “Ah, yes. That one. You’re the wife, eh?”

“Oh, no I’m—” Her denial fell on deaf ears as the man turned to help another customer further down the bar. Hermione shook her head and grabbed the glass of water, winding her way through the tables and crowd to her best friend and his Auror partner.

“Granger!” came the enthusiastic greeting when she reached them. A chair was shoved loudly from the table. “Sit here, Granger. Next to me.”

She chuckled. “Hello, Malfoy.”

The blond wizard shook his head emphatically. “No, it’s Draco. Say it with me. Draaaacooooo.”

With her eyebrows raised high and lips pressed firmly together, Hermione made eye contact with Harry, both of them trying to contain their laughter. “Sorry, my mistake. Draco.”

Malfoy—Draco—grinned happily and nodded. “Very good! I’m Draco and you’re Granger—” he pointed to Harry, “and he’s Pottah.”

Hermione giggled and Draco’s grin grew even wider. She heard him sigh and mumble, “You have the most adorable laugh.”

“Thank you,” she managed between chuckles. She slid the water over to him. “Here, this is for you.”

“You brought me a drink? You’re so kind. Isn’t she kind, Potter?”

Harry stood with a laugh. “Yes, very kind. Just one of the things I love about her.”

Draco hummed in agreement. “Me too, mate.”

“Thanks for coming, Hermione. Ginny’ll have my hide if I’m home late again this week. But Sir Drinksalot over here said he wouldn’t go home and I didn’t want to just leave him. Besides, he keeps asking if you’re coming tonight.”

“No problem, Harry.” Hermione leaned up as Harry bent to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey!” Draco leaned over and tried to push Harry away, but only managed to brush his sleeve. “No kissing Granger! Go home and kiss whats-her-face.”

Harry’s mouth stretched into a mischievous grin. “Oh, I am most definitely telling Ginny you called her that.”

Draco waved his hand dismissively. “Little Red doesn’t scare me. She’s no match for Granger, anyhow. And Granger would defend me, wouldn’t you?” She looked between the two men and shrugged. “I know you would because I’m your favorite. And you’re my favorite. My absolute favorite.”

“Malfoy, mate, you are going to regret some of the things you’re saying.” Harry teased. “And I’m going to remind you of every single one. Many, many times.”

With a snort, Draco shook his head. “No, I won’t.” He scooted his chair closer to Hermione. “Now go away, I want to talk to Granger.” When Harry didn’t immediately leave, he made shooing motions with both hands. “Go, go, go!”

“I’ll be alright with him, Harry. Give Ginny and James my love.” Hermione patted Draco’s shoulder to placate him and smiled reassuringly at Harry.

“Right. See you two on Monday. Have fun and be good!” Harry turned and waved jauntily over his shoulder as he made his way out the door. Hermione watched him leave with a smile until she felt her hair being gently tugged. She turned to see Draco winding some of her hair around his finger and watching it bounce back, over and over.

“I love your hair. It’s so… springy.”

“Um, thank you?” She reached over and picked up the water again, putting it into his hand. “I think you should drink more of this.”

He smiled at her and without letting go of her hair, took a long sip. “Anything for you, Granger.”

“Why do you want me to call you Draco, but I’m still Granger?”

Draco set the glass down and leaned on the table, resting his head in one hand, the other still playing with her hair. “Because your name is special and beautiful. I haven’t earned the right to say it yet.”

Hermione tilted her head. “Why not? We’re friends now, aren’t we? I’d like you to call me Hermione.”

The hand in her hair stilled and he looked at her with wide eyes. “Really? Y-you want me to?”

She chuckled. “Of course. I think it’s time we took that next step, yeah?”

His grey eyes held hers, a sudden intensity to them that she had only noticed a few times before. Always when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“Hermione…” He said her name on a sigh, like it was something precious, something to savor. Like the taste of it on his tongue was pure bliss. He leaned closer. “Hermione. So beautiful.”

With the way he was looking at her, Hermione had the stray thought that he was not just talking about her name. But he couldn’t… She had never allowed herself to hope that he might harbor similar feelings, resigned in the knowledge that her affections were one-sided. No, he was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying.

His hand left her hair and ran down her cheek to trace her jawline. She decided she would allow herself this moment and leaned into his hand, eyes closed.

Loud, raucous laughter and shouting from a group of wizards barging in through the door caused both of them to startle, breaking the moment. Hermione swallowed and pushed her chair back. “Come on, Draco. I think it’s time to head home.”

She stood and helped him to his feet, keeping her arm around him as he wobbled. They made slow progress across the room, Draco leaning into her the whole way. She grabbed some Floo powder, calling out his address as she tossed it in. “Hold tight, Draco.”

He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her hair, pulling her flush against him. She heard him sigh in contentment just as they were whisked away. They tumbled out of the fireplace into the sitting room of Draco’s flat, nearly falling onto the sofa nearby.

Despite their stumbling, Draco kept a tight hold on Hermione. She reached around her back and tried to gently pull his arms away, but he shook his head and hummed something she took as a no.

“Draco, you need to let go so I can help you to your room,” she said soothingly. “Come on, now.”

He held on tighter and burrowed further into her curls. “Don’t want to let you go, Hermione. Never want to let you go.” His words muffled against her hair. “Mmm, you’re warm and comfy.”

She huffed a laugh. “You can keep one arm around me while we walk, okay?” She gingerly took a step, then another and breathed a sigh of relief when he followed suit, loosening his hold on her.

They made their way to his bedroom, where she pulled his robes the rest of the way off and managed to get him on the bed. He still refused to let go of her fully, keeping one arm looped around her waist as she bent to help him take off his shoes and socks. When she stood, he was looking at her with half closed eyes, a dreamy smile on his face. She suspected he was close to falling asleep.

Placing both hands on his shoulders, she gently pushed him back onto the bed, his arm sliding from her waist to his side, and pulled the blankets up over him, tucking him in. She had debated helping him undress fully but pushed that thought out of her mind quickly before it wandered into other, more pleasurable reasons to help him disrobe. She was glad he was drunk enough to not notice her sudden and fierce blush.

Opening her bag, she pulled out a hangover potion and placed it on his nightstand, then summoned a glass and filled it with water. “You’re definitely going to need these in the morning.” She teased as he snuggled down into his pillows, blinking blurrily at her.

“Hi, Hermione.”

She bit her lip and grinned. “Hi, Draco.”

He looked around with a slight frown and furrowed brow. “We’re in my bedroom.” He turned his glassy eyes to her. “Are you really here, Hermione?” She nodded. “You are so beautiful, did you know? And kind, and sweet, and bloody brilliant. I love everything about you. Your hair and your eyes and your little nose—it crinkles when you laugh and it’s so cute. You’re cute. Cute Hermione with her cute nose that I wanna—” He reached up and bopped her on her nose.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione laughed out. “You’re going to be mortified if you remember any of this tomorrow. You’re a terrible flirt when you’re drunk.”

“I like flirting with you.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed as she caught his hand to keep him from poking her nose again. “You need to get some sleep now.” She squeezed his hand and laid it back against his chest. “Goodnight Draco.”

He yawned and closed his eyes, sleep quickly overtaking him. “G’night Hermione.”

Unable to help herself, Hermione brushed the hair off his face and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. She froze as she straightened when she heard him murmur, “Love you.”

She held her breath, waiting to see if he said more, but his breathing deepened and she knew he had fallen into a deep sleep. She crept quietly from the room with one last lingering look.

The next morning a letter arrived by owl, along with a beautiful red tulip. Hermione read the letter, her eyes growing wider with each word. She read it again, a shaky hand covering her mouth. Her eyes drifted to the tulip then back to the letter.

She let out an uncharacteristic yet delighted squeal and clutched the letter to her chest, falling back onto the sofa cushions and disrupting Crookshanks from his nap, his displeasure clear in his aggravated meow. She grinned at him and jumped up, sprinting to her room yelling that she had to get ready. The letter drifted to the floor in her excited departure.

My dearest Hermione,

First, I want to thank you for helping my sorry arse home last night and for leaving me that potion. It was definitely appreciated by my pounding head this morning. I apologize for my behavior last night. I don’t normally allow myself to get that sloshed and am slightly mortified by my actions.

But it is important you know this. I meant everything I said last night. Every word. Especially what I managed to mumble out when you kissed my forehead.

This was not how I planned to tell you my feelings. I had hoped it to be much more romantic than drunken ramblings. You deserve better. But, now that you are aware, I’d like to make my intentions clear. I care about you, deeply. My life is better and brighter with you in it.

I plan to woo you, Hermione. I plan to make you mine, as I am yours.

If you are amenable, I would like to take you to brunch today. I’ll be by at 11 o’clock to pick you up. I look forward to seeing you, my sweet witch.

Hopefully and Lovingly Yours,

Draco

Part of my drabble collection, Green Apples and Red Sugar Quills - AO3 l FFN

#In Vino Veritas #Green Apples and Red Sugar Quills #drabble turned ficlet #Dramione #AO3 #FFN #I wrote this months ago and forgot to post it

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

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A Stake of Holly in Her Heart Pt. 6

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

Back inside the house for the night, Max avoids her nightly routine, going straight to her room to hopefully avoid any punishment until the morning comes.

There’s something she really needs to do, so she waits and waits, watching the minutes tick by on her digital clock until the house quiets down and she can be sure Susan and Neil are asleep.

She perches on the end of her bed and just listens for the TV to shut off in the living room, for her mother to pad up the steps toward her room in her fuzzy slippers, and for every light switch in the house to click off. Once she’s sat in complete silence, she presses her ear to the door so she can decide if she’s in the clear.

There’s a writing desk in Billy’s room, along with the last of his furniture they haven’t put out to the curb yet, put there because, well, he wouldn’t be using the room anymore, and Susan thought the space should be utilized instead of just being a memoir to a dead boy, so it became an office of sorts. And that was where Max needed to be right now.

Making as little noise as possible, she tiptoes from room to room, gently shutting each door behind herself, her heart stopping when the lock clicks into place.

Before she takes another step into the room, she listens for a floorboard to creak, or a voice to shout at her to go back to sleep, but there’s nothing but the sound of thick snow gently hitting against the window pane.

The lamp clicks on on the desk so she can see what she’s doing as she carefully fishes through the drawers of the bureau until she’s found a sheet of paper, the only one she could reach without making too much noise is printed with a border of holly branches, a red ballpoint pen, an envelope, and a stamp.

Max sets it all out in front of herself and thinks long and hard. What she’s about to do leaves no room for making mistakes, because she’s going to write a response to Maria.

It takes a lot of workshopping, cutting out bits of information she would rather share in person and trying to make it as blunt as possible, but eventually she decides on this,

“Dear Ms. Hargrove,

I’m not sure if Billy ever told you about me, but I’m his stepsister, Max.

I got your card in the mail Christmas morning, and I’m sorry to tell you, but he didn’t get to read it.

Your son Billy died on the 4th of July.

Please, if you get this letter, come and see him. He’s in the cemetery on 101 Cedar Street, Hawkins, IN, plot 206 B under the ginkgo tree.

I’m sorry, Maxine Mayfield”

Max folds the paper as neatly as she can manage and seals it into the envelope, copying Maria’s address from the first letter onto the outside, and sticking the little stamp, a picture of a Christmas tree, to the corner.

Putting everything back and pulling the chain on the lamp, it’s like she was never even there.

But she must’ve gotten careless, must’ve been too caught up in the moment to remember to listen for footfalls because, when she opens the door again, she’s face to face with a disgruntled Susan.

Arms behind her back, Max slowly slides the envelope into her pocket before her mother can see it. “What are you doing in here?”

“I-I was just, uh, thinking about Billy again.” She lies through her teeth, bringing her arms up to hold the door frame so Susan wouldn’t notice she had something hidden behind her back. “Wanted to be in here for a while, I guess.”

Susan frowns and rubs her eyes. “You know you’re not supposed to be up this late.”

“Yeah, I know, I just, couldn’t sleep.” She shrugs and offers a tired smile, hoping that’ll help her case.

“Well next time, just try to stay in bed.” Susan’s tired, a little tipsy, and generally unhappy with Max, and it shows in her tone, but she’s too tired for reprimanding, so she makes an attempt at advice, saying, “It doesn’t do you any good to dwell on it.”

“Won’t happen again.” The answer must be acceptable because, shaking her head at her daughter, Susan finally retreats. For extra points, Max calls after her, “Goodnight, mom.”

Max stands in the doorway waiting for Susan to start climbing the steps again, then, once she’s absolutely positive her mother’s no longer paying her any mind, she returns to her own bedroom.

The envelope finds itself in a hiding place under her mattress until she can mail it in the morning, just in case of snooping parents, and for the first time in a long while, Max gets a good night's sleep, the events of that day easing her off to dream.

It’s the feeling of hope, of having found a friend and having done the right thing that sends her off into a restful sleep like she hasn’t had in forever, her guilt no longer plaguing her in reality or in dreamland, and her grief soothed.

By sunrise the next day, she’s already up on her feet, dressed and ready to go before her parents are even awake.

She leaves a note taped to the refrigerator door explaining her absence, lying about going to help Mrs. Byers with something she had mentioned at last night’s party, and hurries out the door, letter in her pocket, before anyone can stop her.

But, as the hinges on the front door squeak, she steps out onto the front porch, hearing Neil’s gruff voice behind her before she can close it. “Where’re you going?”

“Mrs Byers. She, um, w-wanted me to come over and help El with uh, packing.” It sounded great on paper, but out loud it sounds exactly like a lie if she’s ever heard one. Neil doesn’t look upset though, so she decides to keep going. “They leave for Chicago soon.”

Neil nods, a look of complete disinterest on his face, and says “Tell her she can keep you if she wants to keep having you over there all the damn time.”

Then he turns away grumbling, and slams and locks the door in his step-daughters face.

Her first winter around snow and ice, something that never lasted long enough back in Cali to be a problem, she’d learned the hard way that her board didn’t work so well on the salt covered sidewalks, so she has to get to the post office without wheels.

She realizes though, that the walking route, unless she wanted to add an extra half hour or so to the trip, meant going right past the Sinclair’s house. Halfway down the sidewalk, when she sees Lucas' little sister outside, she knows that, after the luck she’s been having, she’s not getting off easy.

Erica is all bundled up in layers of coats and sweatpants, sitting in a pile of snow in the front yard, and rolling out a collection of very tightly packed snowballs when she looks up and meets Max’s eyes. Turning her head back towards the window, Erica shouts to her brother, “Hey nerd, your girlfriend is here!”

Before Max can even correct her or try to explain to her that she was just passing through the neighborhood and it was no big deal, the front door is being yanked open, and Lucas comes skidding down the sidewalk towards her.

He’s out of breath when he gets to her on the sidewalk, having run from somewhere in his house, and his voice is laden with concern. “Max! Where were you?”

“I was just busy. My parents said I couldn’t come.” She explains.

“We assumed the worst when you and Steve didn’t show.” He's bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “Why weren’t you on the line all night?”

Max shrugs, “Like I said, busy.”

He eyes her suspiciously, obviously trying to find some secret meaning to her words. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, they just took me out for Christmas dinner.” She appreciates the concern, she really does, but she gives him a look anyhow. “You know not everything has to be the end of the world, right?”

“Yeah, right, ‘course.” He agrees, still sounding unsure, then doubles back on it. “You’re positive you’re alright?”

Giggling at how excessive he is, Max rolls her eyes, though not really out of annoyance, and affirms, “Yes, Lucas.”

“Okay.” There’s still more he wants to ask about yesterday, she can tell, but he gives it up, choosing instead to ask, “Where are you headed, then?”

“The post office. I have a thank you card for my grandma I'm supposed to send.” She lies again, but it doesn’t feel the same as when she lied to Neil and Susan or Aunt Nicole, where she was trying to hide how she felt, trying to be someone she wasn’t. This is more like she’s just trying to protect her personal life, and she thinks that’s fair enough.

Lucas flashes her his most charming smile. “Mind if I join you?”

There’s no way she’s going to actually turn down the offer, but she pretends, turning her nose up and saying, “I don’t know. Don’t think I really want you slowing me down.”

“You just don’t want all of this,” Lucas motions to himself with a goofy grin, “to make you look bad.”

She puts a mock sympathetic hand on his shoulder, and says, “Keep telling yourself that, dweeb.” but there’s a wide smile on her face as she says it, even after Erica tells them to get a room and throws a handful of her snowballs at them.

The rest of the walk into town is only a few minutes from that point if they take the shortcut behind the neighborhood, so Max isn’t all that worried about Lucas tagging along.

Mostly though, it’s because, unless he miraculously overcame his hangover and decided to search the treeline with a pair of binoculars, there was pretty much no way Neil was going to see them together, and they were out early enough that any of the nib-nose neighbors who might’ve snitched on them weren’t even awake yet.

Besides, even if Neil was one hundred percent guaranteed to catch her, she feels in a good enough mood that she doesn’t know that she’d care.

Outside of the post office, as she opens the mail slot and lets the letter fall into the collection box, she can tell Lucas catches a glimpse of the name on the envelope just by the sudden frown on his face, the worry in his eyes as he looks over to again her.

But Max, she isn’t bothered by it. She’ll tell him later what’s going on with her and Maria, once the whole thing is over. She thinks she owes it to herself to be a little more abrasive, to not just let everyone in on every last detail of her life so they can make her decisions for her.

So she doesn’t bring it up, just smiles at him and takes his hand, and lets him walk her back home.

After that morning she checks the mailbox constantly to make sure nobody else would find any letters from Maria before she did. Lord only knows what Neil would do if he found out she’d been in contact with his ex-wife.

Day one, all she finds is an issue of the beauty magazine Susan has a subscribed to, a notice for a late water bill, and a day old Christmas card from Uncle Don down in Texas.

The next day is more disappointing, nothing inside the mailbox but spam and a grocery store catalog.

There’s no mail service on Sundays, so she spends the whole of the third day fretting, wondering if her letter her made it, and if she should try to send another.

On the fourth day, there’s finally a letter in the mailbox addressed to Maxine Mayfield. Her heart stutters as she slides the stark white envelope out and gently tears it open.

It simply reads,

“To Billy’s sister, I’m on my way.”

Read also on ao3!

#max mayfield #billy hargrove #lucas sinclair #ej writer #story by EJ!#update it’s definitely not getting done today!#but I think that’s alright for the grand finale #it’s a longer one anyways

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your-worst-knightmare · 4 years

Text

Red: Pt. 10

Masterlist here

Jason’s whole morning was a mess of bleary-eyed madness. Louis had left the safehouse with Bizarro long before Alfred had arrived in a limo to pick Artemis and Jason up. Both of them didn’t have many belongings save for weapons, which Alfred insisted that they let him take care of.

“Master Jason, it’s wonderful you and Miss Artemis are able to visit this time of year. Your stay will be busy, I must warn you, but everyone will be there.”

“Wait, what’s happening?” Jason asked, trying to shake the weariness from his brain.

“Have you really forgotten, Master Jason? The annual Wayne charity gala is tomorrow.”

“Well it seems that you won’t have to call the rest of your family now,” Artemis remarked.

Jason could only slap his forehead. “Alf, i came for business, not to party. We’re all in danger. I mean, we don’t know for sure, but–”

“Then it seems suitable that you wait until at least the gala is over. Most of the family hasn’t arrived yet anyhow. Oh, and Miss Stephanie has arranged a shopping trip for the two of you. She assumes you both hadn’t brought adequate clothing in advance.”

“Aw, Alfred–” he was swiftly cut off by a jab to the side.

“Thank you Alfred. I’m sure Jason can enjoy some time with his family without any talk of business.” Artemis gave Jason a look, and he knew better than to oppose both her and Alfred.

The old man chuckled to himself as he pulled up to Wayne Manor. A full house was always nice, if not a bit of a handful. “I’m sure he can, Miss Artemis, I’m sure he can. Try to enjoy yourselves for a while. In the meantime, let me show you to your rooms.”

In short, Jason was not enjoying himself in the least. He was hungry and tired, and of course stupid Stephanie Brown made him go shopping. And Replacement would never let Damian hear the end of it if Jason dared complain. He would get his revenge. Somehow.

The one person Jason wouldn’t mind seeing wasn’t even in the city. Yeah, because Damian’s got friends now. Like Jason wasn’t the first friend Damian ever had. The little brat left him a note apologizing for his absence, but its formality only made Jason laugh. The kid should be with his friends, maybe learning how to talk like a normal ten-year-old.

Naturally, Steph wouldn’t make Damian go shopping. It was dreadful, with Steph practically hijacking Artemis and leaving Jason and Replacement (Tim) stranded in high end stores suspended in utter confusion. It wasn’t that Jason didn’t know how to shop, it was that stupid Brown wouldn’t let him touch anything without her approval of the item first. That left very few items in the store left for Jason to choose from.

It was simply maddening. Steph finally brought him a green suit and insisted that it was the one. “It’s viridian. It’s so in Jason,” he mocked when she asked to see it on him. He didn’t even get to see what she had gotten Artemis.

He didn’t have to try it on. And hallelujah, he got to go home. Much to nobody’s surprise, he didn’t get much rest when he got back to Wayne Manor either. Jason had scarcely returned to his room when he was tacked by a ten-year old whirlwind. Damian. The boy greeted him in the formal dialect of the League, a habit not yet broken. “Akhi! You came back!”

“Well that’s obvious, isn’t it? Woah, okay, let me breathe here Damian.” The boy obeyed and sat on the bed. He clearly wasn’t ready to leave anytime soon.

“Where have you been?” he asked, crossing his arms.” You haven't visited most– if any of your safehouses lately. I… I’ve been worried.”

Well the kid had changed then. Jason had to give the little prince some credit. The kid would never have said that in his right mind had he still been with the League.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to not even go on patrol? To not answer any messages? You practically disappeared, Todd.” Damian wasn’t buying it. One thing hadn’t changed, that was for sure. The prince would get the truth out of him one way or another. Honestly, Jason was a little (okay, maybe a lot) embarrassed to tell Damian that he’d been caught and in custody for two months. He hadn’t even tried, really tried to get out.

But, Jason figured it was better to be up front. Especially with a family of detectives with a notorious history of using secrets as blackmail.

Damian only scoffed in response.” Tt’. Really, akhi? You’re getting soft.”

“Speak for yourself, brat. Now let me sleep. I’m tired.” He flopped onto the bed, with no regard for the assassin prince still sitting there.

Instead of leaving, Damian snuggled up into the crook of Jason’s arm and soon fell asleep listening to the rhythmic beating of his brother’s heart.

Jason’s next interruption (named Artemis) came too early into the next morning. Damian was still where he had fallen asleep, dozing softly. At the sound of a knock, Jason regrettably blinked himself awake. “Come in,” he yawned.

“I see you’ve been able to rest. I was going to ask if you wanted to come train with me.” Artemis raised an eyebrow at the scene. “ It seems that you can tolerate at least one of your brothers' presence.”

“It’s a love-hate relationship.”

The Amazon snorted. “So are you going to take me up on my offer or not?”

“Yeah, I’m coming Red.” He carefully shifted Damian off of himself. Thankfully, the kid’s eyes remained closed. “Wait, before you go can you help me with my shoulder?”

“Are you not capable?” she asked, nevertheless sitting down beside him. Jason pulled off his shirt to let her inspect the wound. Most of his torso was covered in bandages as well as his shoulder. Peeling them back to see how the wound healed was a tedious task. Enhanced healing made it even more annoying on account of never knowing what to expect.

“Ow. Easy, Arty.”

“ Oh, be quiet. You should be fine by tomorrow. Just keep the gauze on for compression,” Artemis said, starting to re-wrap the bandages.

Jason closed his eyes with a small sigh, glad to sit there and do nothing. Relaxing was a weird way to put it, but he couldn’t find any other way to describe it. The tips of her hair brushed his face, surrounding him the scent of her shampoo. For the first time in months, he felt… calm.

“I assume you’ll be able to take care of yourself from here. Meet me downstairs in five.”

“Thanks Princess!” he called after her.

As soon as Artemis left, Damian’s eyes flew open. Jason groaned.”You’ve been awake this whole time?”

Damian nodded, grinning devilishly. “You’re getting soft akhi,” he piped, poking his brother in the ribs.

“And I’m going to kill you if another word comes out of your mouth.” Jason pulled on some suitable clothes for training and shooed Damian out before going to join Artemis.

Surprisingly, the training room was empty. That was especially unusual for this time in the morning with the Bats. Then Jason realized that everyone was probably helping out Alfred downstairs for that night. Not that training was easy work either. But he’d go help after.

“Took you long enough.” Artemis said, smirking. “Warm up and then we spar.”

She was going to kick his butt. He knew it. But he wasn’t going to argue. “Yes ma'am.”

Jason had half a mind to say that being an Amazon was plain cheating. Yeah, he held his own, but barely. The strength of the Lazarus wasn’t always on his side. Then again, Jason didn’t always have the privilege of fighting people his own size.

“Another round?”” Artemis asked, helping him up from the floor.

“Yeah, give me a sec,” he huffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirt. “Next round, I pick the weapon though.”

By the time Artemis was satisfied with the amount of training done, Jason felt like he was going to drop dead on the spot. Which–in a weird way– reminded him of how much he’d missed training with her. She didn’t let anyone get away with slacking off. Neither did Alfred, for that matter, which was why Jason needed to hurry up in the showers or else face the wrath of an all-powerful butler. A butler much too tired to deal with any kind of nonsense.

The evening came faster than Jason had anticipated. He examined his appearance in the mirror, doing his best at looking presentable. At first, he hadn’t been sure of Steph’s choice of colour, but he was surprised to say that he actually looked… good? Fingering the cuffs of his jacket, he eyed the ‘finishing touch’ that Bruce insisted he wear. A Rolex– one that Bruce had originally got Jason for his sixteenth birthday. He’d never gotten to wear it. Death tended to preoccupy a person.

After staring at the timepiece for at least five minutes, he finally made the decision to put it on. He headed downstairs, where a few of Bruce’s close friends as well as the boys were already present. The girls were soon to arrive, fashionably late, as Alfred had put it.

As if on cue, the doors to the hall were thrown open (a bit dramatically if Jason had anything to say about it). And Jason stopped. Wow. The girls all looked supermodel gorgeous. And Artemis– Just woah.

Her dress was clearly made to match his own outfit. Steph had clearly outdone herself there. It was green, high-necked and sleeveless, which flowed elegantly to her shins. Her red hair was pulled back, keeping the delicate curls out of her face and making the designs etched into her side-shave all the more striking. A gold armband circled her bicep, emphasizing her muscular physique.

“Good evening, Jason,” she said coolly, practically gliding across the floor.”Tell me, when did you decide to fulfill your dreams of being a statue?”

“This? Oh, this is a technique used to evade the reporters. You should try it sometime. Works wonders.”

The Amazon’s lips curled upward in amusement. “I see.” She reached across the table to steal an untouched patry from Jason’s plate.

“Hey! I was going to eat that.”

“It can’t possibly be that hard to get another,” she said, taking a bite. “Besides, you weren’t eating it.”

He gave her a look. Artemis shrugged, mouth full. “Ah, it’s fine. I’ll steal another one from the kitchen. Bruce wants us there for a briefing anyway.”

“Briefing?”

“Yeah, so the press doesn’t find anything fishy with us.” It sounded like a weird thing to do, but even when he was a kid, Jason had pre-gala briefings. What to say to the reporters, how to act (well mostly) what impression to give off. There was a whole science to it. Alfred didn’t teach the Bats drama in vain.

The kitchen, which seemed colossal while empty, slowly shrank as more and more people shuffled inside. Bruce quizzed each of them of their roles, and things they were not to do. Jason, for example, was not to get drunk and cuss out the press. Much to his own chagrin, Jason was expected to actually talk to some of the guests, and give off a good impression.

“Remember, you are all representing the Wayne name, even if you don’t bear it. Please act accordingly.”

On the bright side, Jason was able to sneak another pastry out. Man, he’d missed Alfred’s cooking. For all of his redeemable traits, Louis hadn’t been the best chef. It was a step up from the cooking at the correctional facility, but Alfred’s skillset was simply legendary.

The flash of cameras and clamouring reporters soon arrived to the manor. Limos that looked long enough to fit thirty people pulled up one after the other. He remembered watching them as a kid, in awe of the lavish use of their money. He remembered smiling so much at the cameras that his cheeks hurt. He remembered eating so much food that he felt sick afterwards- thereafter getting to wait the rest of the party out in his room. There was something satisfying about knowing there was a party downstairs and choosing not to be a part of it.

Jason was relieved once the guests settled into the hall and calmed down. Because he spent so little time with his own family, he felt like more of a guest himself. His brothers were busy talking to the elite, making small talk about whatever rich people were interested in. Artemis didn’t have much care to mingle, which was a small comfort to Jason. At least he could talk to her and not seem like a total loner.

“Bruce said I have to talk to some people this time.”

“Do you really plan to?”

“Well I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Oh quit your blather Jason. What’s on your mind?”

He leaned an arm on the table, sighing. There were so many things. Coming back to Wayne Manor made him enough of a trainwreck as it was. Add onto that the threat of lurking Owls and the thought of Biz and Louis by themselves didn’t help. And the gala? All of that was the perfect recipe for something to go wrong. Artemis was the one thing that kept him from losing his mind. Well, partially.

“So many things Arty. Everything just piles up, you know?” She nodded solemnly, silently telling him to continue. “And I just…” he stopped, shaking his head, his entire vocabulary ceasing to exist.

She took his hand and looked him in the eye. “I know. It really does happen at the worst times. Family is a difficult thing, Jason, but it’s better to keep them in your life, despite how much you may want to drop-kick some of them off a roof.”

He laughed dryly. “How are you so perfect with everything Princess?”

“Perfect? I’m far from it. But you may keep believing that if you like,” she smiled.

Oh, he was so glad she was back. Her presence alone was strangely soothing. She could say nothing and deliver a whole conversation. He hoped she understood his mess of a mind. Words alone couldn’t convey his thoughts. Life was hard, feelings more so. He’d have to unwind all of that later. Public settings weren’t the place to get emotional.

“How do you think Biz and Louis are doing?” Jason asked, taking a sip of whatever carbonated drink the waiter had given him.

“I’m sure they’re getting along. Louis seems likable enough.”

“I thought you two didn’t get along?”

“Yes, we may not see eye to eye, but I know a sincere man when I see one. He’s dedicated to doing right, and I respect that.”

Jason gave her a small round of applause, making the Amazon roll her eyes. “So glad to see my favorite people getting along.” He raised his glass. “To the reunion of the Outlaws, and you being friendly,”Jason toasted and drained the rest of his drink without another word. Artemis gave him an exasperated look before following suit.

Tipping his glass to the light, he could’ve sworn he saw something. Was that… an owl? There was too much evidence of the Court following them for it not to be. What did they put in his drink? Upon placing the glass down, he nudged Artemis, motioning to his drink. Thankfully, she got his message.

She swirled her own glass around in her hand, watching the last sips slosh around. Finally, she set it on the table. “We really must ask the waiter what mystery drink he is giving out. I simply must have some more,” Artemis said, throwing a little too much enthusiasm into her last sentence.

The guests started to file to the middle of the hall. What the elite of Gotham had with waltzes, Jason would never know. But it seemed like a good way to pass information around the room discreetly. Jason got up, offering a hand to Artemis. “A dance, m’lady?”

“Sounds wonderful.” The pair glided across the floor, Jason grateful for Alfred’s training in this type of thing. He leaned close to Artemis’ ear, scarcely daring to whisper. “We need to tell someone they’re here.”

“We’ll split up,” she breathed. “Find Barbara. I’ll find Dick.”

“‘Kay.”

Jason was just about to hand her off to another partner when Artemis winced. “You okay?”

“Yes, it’s just… my head.” She brought a hand to her temple, grimacing. “I’ve got to go.”

Jason nodded. He could tell Dick himself. “Go on, I’ll meet you later.” He saw her off, and sat down in the corner, trying to locate Dick. He managed to catch his attention, only– his head started to pound too.

“You okay, Jay? You look terrible.”

Jason sucked in a breath. “Some’n messed with–” his tongue felt like lead. Nope nope nope. He needed to leave. “–drink.” he managed, dashing out the door and to the nearest washroom.

#rhato #red hood #jason todd #artemis grace #batfam #rhato 2016 #fanfic #Red:pt10

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ft-dads-au · 4 years

Text

Attitude Adjustment

Femslash Fairies 2020 Prompt: Accidental Meeting Pairing: Sorano x Minerva A Collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

AO3 | FF.Net

June 4, 2022

Sorano glanced at her watch impatiently, her perfectly manicured fingernails tapping on the counter as she waited. After another ten minutes of barely contained complaints, it was finally her turn.

“Can I help you, Miss?” the young man behind the counter asked cheerfully. “What would you like today?”

Sorano bit back a sarcastic retort before it could escape, reasoning that the delay wasn’t this person’s fault.

“I’d like to pick up my order from City Eats, it should be under Agria,” she even gave the perfectly mousy employee one of her winning smiles.

“City what?” He gaped at her, obviously confused, and that was not endearing him to her in the slightest.

“You do know what an order is, correct?” Sorano raised an eyebrow in mock inquiry.

“Yeah.”

“Excellent, then go get mine,” Sorano gave the employee a deadpan look and waved him off.

“But you haven’t ordered anything,” the employee insisted, getting flustered.

There was growing unrest as the people in line behind her began to voice their disapproval at how long she was taking. She noticed an attractive woman with black hair that was neatly secured with a hair clip watching the exchange with interest.

“Yes, I did, on the app doohickey. It’s the only reason I came to this dump, I have an afternoon’s worth of clients and no time to waste in here. So get me my order, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Listen, lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about, there is no order under that name anywhere on here.”

“Allow me, Dobengal,” the black-haired woman approached them, signaling the employee to continue serving the next customer, “Why don’t you come over here with me, Miss?”

Sorano was fuming by now. She had taken a chance on this little restaurant in a spirit of solidarity. And yes, the proximity to her salon, but that was beside the point. If she didn’t hurry up and get her food, she was either going to have to skip lunch altogether or run late, which would inconvenience her clients. It could also put her business, which she was only starting to get off the ground, in danger of getting a bad reputation.

“I don’t have time for this!” Sorano snapped, “I want to speak to your manager.”

“You’re looking at her. Owner, manager, cook, you name it, I’m it. Now, what seems to be the trouble?”

“The trouble is your service is terrible. I ordered my meal over an hour ago from the City Eats app, is it too much to ask to expect it to be ready when I arrive for pickup?!”

“I highly doubt that, are you sure you read the message properly?”

“Of course I read it properly, what do you take me for?!”

The woman smirked but gave no other answer.

“Look, I’ll show you!” Sorano searched through her bag, looking for her phone so she could show the horrid, yet attractive woman the email she had received confirming her order. Except now that she looked at it, that’s not what it said at all.

We regret to inform you that this restaurant has not yet been configured in our system. Keep an eye out for an announcement coming soon!

Well, shit! Now she looked like a total moron. The woman looked at her expectantly, arms crossed in front of her chest, her smirk only increasing by the second.

“That’s not what it said earlier!” Sorano argued, not willing to admit that she was at fault.

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you tell me what you wanted, and I’ll go make it for you quickly, but don’t get used to it,” the woman warned.

Sorano recited her order and fumed the whole time the woman was gone. She quickly returned, handing her a bag.

“I added a treat, maybe it will help with your attitude. On the house.”

The woman gave her a small mocking wave before returning to the kitchen, and Sorano had half a mind to throw the bag on the floor and stomp on it with her heels. Still, the one thing she could say about this restaurant was that the food smelled heavenly, and her curiosity got the best of her. So instead, she stormed off to her salon to wolf down her lunch before her next client arrived, getting only more worked up when the food ended up being delicious.

0-0

Minerva finally locked the doors of the restaurant behind her, signaling the end of another busy day. Her business had grown quickly, even though she’d only had it for a few months now. With the soon to be added online service, she was probably going to need extra employees. Maybe if things continued to go well, she could switch to the more lucrative dinner crowd and drop breakfast. It would be nice to not have to get up so early every day. But that was a worry for another day.

Right now, she had something else on her mind. In just a few hours, she would be attending a very special event. Sting Eucliffe and Rogue’s family had planned a surprise second wedding ceremony for him. For the last few months, she, along with several other of their friends, had been meeting in secret at her restaurant, creating menus, designing cakes, picking flowers, and doing everything they could to make this an occasion to remember for their friend. She couldn’t wait to see Rogue’s reaction to their efforts, knowing that his family’s absence had been the only thing to put a damper on his wedding day years ago, which had been an otherwise perfect day.

She still had a lot of things to do in preparation and not that much time left, so she sped up her pace, making a to-do list in her head while still keeping an eye out for the sign of the beauty salon she was heading to. Although it was reasonably new, it had come highly recommended.

She’d booked an appointment especially for the occasion. To get her eyebrows done and her hair pinned up in a more elegant way than the messy buns she was used to wearing. And all that cooking and cleaning and wearing latex gloves had taken its toll on her hands, so they could definitely use some special care as well. Unfortunately, she couldn’t have long nails anymore, but a manicure and a layer of cute nail polish would make a world of difference.

It didn’t take long before she found the salon, only a couple of blocks away from her restaurant. She entered and was greeted by a somewhat jaded looking employee with black and white hair, and admittedly flawless looking makeup.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you?”

“Good afternoon. I have an appointment at three, under the name Orland.” Minerva waited for the employee to check their planner, wondering if she could pull off that dark shade of purple lipgloss they were wearing. It matched the color of the dress she had bought for tonight perfectly.

“Please take a seat, Sorano will be with you shortly.”

She sat down in the elegantly designed waiting area, taking a quick look at the clock. She’d gotten there a little early, so she went through the stack of beauty and health magazines, looking for something to keep her busy while she waited. Eventually, she found a women’s hairstyles catalog and began flipping through its pages. Perhaps she could find an example of what she wanted to show the hairdresser.

A yawn escaped her, unsurprisingly, since she had gotten up earlier than usual. On top of all the prep she usually did at her restaurant, Minerva had been responsible for the catering for tonight’s reception. It had been a busy morning, but thank God she didn’t have to worry about serving tonight. The venue had staff for that, so she could relax and enjoy the party, and take off those ridiculous heels whenever she wanted.

Her eyelids were getting heavy, so she put away the book. Leaning her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes, just for a minute. Couldn’t hurt, right?

0-0

Sorano walked out of the waxing room with her client and hurried to the planner. She was running late, and this was her last appointment for the day as she had Sting’s wedding to attend that evening. She traveled the page with her index finger until she arrived at the name. Orland. It didn’t sound familiar.

“Hey Midnight,” she called out, “Did my last appointment get here yet?”

“She was in the waiting room last time I checked, “ Midnight responded without lifting their head from the magazine they were reading.

“Do you think you could check Gladys out for me? I’m running late,” she gave him her best puppy eyes, but they only snorted as they got up, earning a smile from her. “You’re an angel, thanks!”

She walked into the waiting room, her heels clicking on the floor when to her astonishment, she found the woman from the restaurant fast asleep in one of her chairs. She looked so peaceful that Sorano spent a whole minute admiring her with a smile.

She really was a breathtaking woman. Sorano tried shaking her gently, “Hey, wake up.”

When that didn’t work, she shook a bit harder, although she felt a little guilty. If the poor woman was sleeping that deeply she must be exhausted. Sorano could commiserate, running your own business could be draining. Any other day she might have let her sleep a bit longer, but she didn’t have any time to waste.

The woman blinked her eyes slowly looking slightly disoriented as she woke. Sorano couldn’t help but tease, “You really have no regard for my time, do you?”

“You?!”

“Me,” Sorano agreed, smirking at her reaction. We didn’t get off to a good start this morning, and that was entirely my fault, I get hangry if I don’t eat by a certain time.”

“It’s true, she does,” Midnight was kind enough to back her up, although they really didn’t need to look so amused.

“Anyhow, my name is Sorano, it’s nice to meet you.” She extended her hand in greeting. “Welcome to my salon, Nirvana.”

“Minerva,” the woman answered politely as she shook her hand.

“What can I do for you today, Minerva?”

“I’d like an updo, and my eyebrows probably need to get done, and my nails too,” Minerva requested, “Truth be told, I haven’t really gone out in ages, been too busy working on the restaurant, I probably need the works.”

Sorano laughed, “Hardly, about the only thing I would say is you look a little tired. Tell you what, why don’t you pick a nail color from the wall while I get my stuff ready, then Midnight can do your nails while I work on your hair. Did you know what you wanted?”

Minerva described the dress she would be wearing and showed her a few pictures from one of the magazines. Once they agreed on a style, she left to look at the nail polish while Sorano went around looking for hairpins.

On a whim, she went into the breakroom and got a couple of tea bags out, wanting to make up for her bitchiness earlier in the day. She poured some warm water from the sink into a cup and dropped the teabags in. A few minutes later, she put the teabags in the fridge. By the time she was done with her preparations, Midnight had already begun working on Minerva’s nails.

“Alright, close your eyes,” Sorano chirped, placing the teabags over Minerva’s eyes.

“Is that — tea?” Minerva frowned.

“Yep, the caffeine will help with those puffy eyes, I do it all the time,” Sorano removed Minerva’s hair clip and placed it on the nail table next to her. She began to brush out the long hair removing any tangles and getting ready to start putting it up.

All in all, it took about an hour of twisting, pinning, teasing, and curling, but it was well worth it. Minerva looked gorgeous, and Sorano debated asking her if she could take a picture of her hair for the salon. She had removed the tea bags earlier, and it had definitely helped with the puffiness.

They had chatted while she worked, and she had really enjoyed talking with her. Minerva was witty and smart, a combination Sorano had always enjoyed. Now with only the eyebrows left, she found herself trying to find excuses to keep her longer, although a peek at her watch told her it was wishful thinking. She needed to hurry home and get ready.

Oh well, she could always go be a pain at the restaurant again. She handed Minerva one of the oversized mirrors so she could scrutinize her hairdo and eyebrows. Sorano remembered she’d noticed Minerva looking at Midnight’s lips various times, so she grabbed one of the lip glosses from her makeup area and put it in a small bag with a grin.

She couldn’t afford to give her the full service on the house, but she could gift her a small token.

“You’re a genius, everything looks amazing, thank you!” Minerva gushed.

Sorano preened at the compliment, although in truth, it had more to do with Minerva’s beauty than anything else. She checked her out, handing her change along with the bag with the lip gloss. “Here you go, I added a treat on the house. Perhaps it will help with your attitude”, she teased with a wink and a friendly grin.

“Oh, God, I said that didn’t I?” Minerva’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “I’m so sorry.”

Sorano laughed heartily, “I totally deserved it! Have fun at your event and come back sometime!”

“I just might have to.”

0-0

As soon as the ceremony was over, Minerva went straight to the nearest Ladies room. She knew beforehand that the event was likely to get emotional, but she hadn’t expected to be moved to tears. Looking in the mirror, her suspicions that the eye-makeup she had applied earlier had suffered were confirmed, and although it wasn’t running down her cheeks, there were definitely blotches under her eyes. But that lip gloss was still looking as good as it did when she’d just applied it.

She took a napkin from her purse and leaned over the counter to move closer to the mirror. With light pats, she tried to fix her makeup, getting frustrated when all she did was create a mess of smudges.

The door opened, and more women came in, chattering happily. Some of them disappeared into one of the stalls, while others stood next to her, examining their features in the mirror. Among them, there was a familiar face. The gorgeous looking girl she had seen twice today already.

“You again?” she smirked at Sorano, shaking her head in mock disapproval, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” She almost confessed that she didn’t mind in the slightest, but stopped herself at the last moment. “So are you one of Sting’s friends then?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Sorano answered while she fixed the dark blue ribbon decorating her hair, “he’s been my sister’s best friend since kindergarten, so I’ve known him since forever. He’s like the little brother I never asked for,” she joked.

“Yeah, he’s like that,” Minerva laughed along, “I’m thrilled Rogue met him, he’s exactly what was needed to bring him out of his shell.”

She thought about the role she had played in their family and couldn’t help but smile a little. Her sons, their sons, couldn’t have asked for a better set of parents, and she was glad that she had been able to do that for them. She could feel tears filling her eyes once again as she remembered the expressions on Sting and Rogue’s faces at the birth of their sons.

Minerva sighed and gave up on trying to fix her makeup. It looked slightly better than before, but not nearly as good as it did when she went out the door.

“Hold on,” Sorano called out. She plopped her purse on the counter and started searching through it, “Allow me.”

She took a variety of makeup products out of the purse and laid them out on the marble surface. They were from the same brand as the lipgloss she had gifted Minerva at the salon, looking professional and a lot more expensive than the drugstore makeup Minerva had lying around at home.

“Okay, hold still.”

Sorano started to wipe away the remaining smudges and carefully applied new makeup, where the previous layer had been removed. She was squinting in her focus, the tip of her tongue peeping out between her lips, and Minerva couldn’t help but think she looked adorable like that.

“There, all done!” Sorano declared with a beaming smile, “Let’s get back to the party, shall we?”

They walked out of the bathroom, following the sounds of music and applause to the reception hall. Right as they entered, the first dance began, so they joined the rest of the guests and watched.

Sting led Rogue to the center of the dance floor, smiling at him the way he always did. Like the sun shines out his ass. Rogue, still overwhelmed by the surprise ceremony that his family and Sting had sprung on him, hid his face on Sting’s shoulder. Minerva snorted, thinking it was everything she’d expected.

“Ugh, these two are so mushy, it’s disgusting,” she said to Sorano, who spoke at the same time, rolling her eyes.

“Gross. Get a room or something.”

They looked at each other and burst into laughter, and despite their crass comments, they continued to watch the dance with fond smiles. There were cheers and clapping as the song ended. Sting took that moment to bow gracefully at the assembled guests earning a round of laughter. He whispered something in Rogue’s ear, and then both men walked off towards their parents’ table, returning to the dance floor with their mothers.

The DJ opened up the dance floor, and it soon began to fill up with all sorts of couples. Both women continued to watch, and although dancing was not something she often did, Minerva decided to take a chance.

She turned towards Sorano, “I don’t suppose you’d like to dance?”

Sorano raised a perfectly styled eyebrow at the request, but her lips soon curled into a smirk, “In these heels? Hell, no.” Minerva tried to hide her disappointment when to her surprise Sorano removed her shoes and put them underneath one of the tables. “Now I do.”

Minerva followed her example, leaving her shoes next to Sorano’s before grabbing her hand and guiding her to the dance floor.

She thought back to that morning, when they’d first met, and how they’d immediately butted heads. It seemed so long ago, especially after they had gotten to know each other a little better at the salon. And now, here they were, dancing with their arms around each other as they swayed to the music.

Sorano gave her a provocative smile and Minerva couldn’t help the way her heart skipped a beat in response. She twirled Sorano, in time to the music, already thinking of ways to make sure there were plenty more evenings like this in their future.

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #femslashfairies2020 #ftlgbtales #sorano x minerva #fics #prompt: x to lovers #stingue

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oh-theatre · 5 years

Text

Objection!: Chapter 3

Chapter title: New Light

A/n: Yay new chapter! I hope people are liking the story so far, I love writing it so I hope yall enjoy. Make sure to leave some comments, I really appreciate them.

First | Previous | Next

words: 3244

summary: As the two lawyers work on building their case, Virgil has his own problems to deal with

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, platonic demus

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, crying

Ao3 Link

“Mr.Tolentino?” A voice calls from the other side of the door. Logan closes his laptop annoyed with his work anyhow and stands to open the door. He opens it to face a young man, he wears glasses and a very tight suit. He's holding a notepad shakily in his hand as his shoulders hunch.

“Can I help you?” Logan asks still thinking about his opening statements. The boy almost winces as he speaks, having trouble meeting his eyes.

“I-I...I've been assigned to your c-c-case Mr.Tolentino” He stutters still shuddering. Logan rubs the bridge of his nose. “I'm f-from the interning p-program sir” At least he has manners, Logan thinks before ushering him inside. He sighs gesturing for the boy to sit down, closing the door behind him.

“I did not sign up for that program, in fact, I specifically said no” Logan explains, the boy nods slowly before handing him a note. Logan hesitates before he snatches it and begins reading through it.

I, Judge Roman Reial, hereby volunteer the following lawyers from my court to participate in the internship program from the Rollins College institute of law. Including my reasoning for why they should be considered. The list is as follows:

Logan skims the list finally landing on the name at the bottom

Logan Tolentino: A brilliant lawyer, however, it would do him some good to have help getting more than just a logical perspective.

Logans lets out an exasperated breath before turning back to the boy who is now examining his surroundings. I'm going to kill Roman, He thinks. The boy scribbles down a few notes, intently focused, Logan admires that. He sits on his side of the desk and opens his laptop. He goes to resume his writing until hearing a squeak come from the opposing side.

“Yes?”

“Um… I-i was wondering… is there-” The boy pauses meeting Logans unfortunate glare “Is there anything you want me to do?” He rushes taking a deep breath. Logan tilts his head at the proposition. He thinks for a moment.

“Yes, in fact, I would like you to go and retrieve something for me” Logan says returning his focus to his laptop. He speaks without looking up “It seems I am missing one of the interrogations from case file two-zero-three A. I need you to go to the evidence locker at the precinct and ask them for a copy. Then return here, so I may continue my research” He finishes typing something into his many notes.

“O-oh ok!” The boy chirps already sounding happier to leave Logan's presence. “Will do Mr.Tolentino!” He starts to make his way out of the room but is stopped by Logan who clears his throat.

“May I ask what your name is?” He inquires dutifully. The boy bounces and goes over to Logan extending his arm. Logan shakes it impressed by the firm return.

“Reeve Miller, at your service” He says proudly before waltzing out of the room. Logan nods, maybe it won't be so bad.

~~~

“Thanks” Virgil's mumbles quickly before stepping out of Romans car. He notices the man put the car into park and sit idly. “Wh..what are you doing?”

“I'm waiting” Roman says pulling out his phone “I'm your ride home, plus I don't have to be at the court until after lunch so...” He shrugs already scrolling through Instagram “I got time” Virgil doesn't bother arguing with Roman. He rushes inside to be met with a very frantic Cindy carrying a very sick looking Damian. Virgil's defenses fall at the sight of his son wrapped up in a blanket shivering. He extends his arms allowing Cindy to place Damian into Virgil's hold who secures it by pulling the blanket up a little more. He thanks Cindy before taking his son outside and back towards Romans car. Roman gets out and helps him secure a sleeping Damian into the backseat, Virgil eyes the two baby seats already placed in the back. Roman notices and smiles smugly

“I help Patton out a lot” Roman insisted “So instead of constantly switching car seats, I just bought two extra for my car” He shrugs watching as Virgil buckles Damian into his seat. They settle back into the front seats.

“That's nice of you…” Virgil remarks turning around to watch Damian. Too scared to take his eyes off the little one, afraid he might just disappear.

“Why thank you!” The fanciful man declares already back on the road. Virgil rolls his eyes and inputs his address into the GPS. “Thank you!” Roman chirps. Virgil shakes his head turning back to his son. They ride along in a seeping silence with occasional GPS directions spouting out. They arrive and Virgil wastes no time getting his son into the house, followed by a very eager to help Roman.

“Since you insist on being a bother” Virgil whispers as they enter his house “Could you make some soup? Ingredients in the fridge and pots are over there” He feels weird asking Roman to do stuff but needs an extra pair of arms anyway. Roman nods excitedly.

“Of course!” He whispers back. He makes his way to the kitchen humming gently. Virgil watches for a moment before taking Damian to his room. He carefully places the child into his bed tucking him tightly. The boy remains asleep tossing over to clutch onto his snake plushie. Virgil smiles endearingly at his son before turning on the nightlight and making his way back to the kitchen. Roman is still humming around, cooking up a storm. The kitchen is filled with an aroma that Virgil has not sensed in awhile. Roman spins around almost spilling the soup seeing Virgil standing there. Virgil stifles a laugh at his clumsiness.

“Nice one Roman” He takes some of the soup, pouring it into a bowl and allows it to cool, he looks through the medicine cabinet and pulls out some things. Roman watches cleaning the pot. “Ok, that should-”

“Papi!” A voice shrieks through the house, the two men stop what they are doing and race into Damian's room. He's sitting up on his bed hunching over, clutching his stomach. He whines pained and Virgil rushes to his side rubbing his back soothingly. “It hurts” Damian cries.

“I know Dee” Virgil soothes. Roman comes over sitting on the child's other side. Damian cries out more.

“You are doing so good niño” Roman encourages “What a brave little guy!” Virgil shoots him a grateful glance and they continue reassuring the sick boy.

~~~

“No Remus! No help Papa! Heeeelp!!” Valerie cries gleefully playing with her brother. Patton sighs resigned, he decides to oblige to the children's wishes having trouble with his opening statement. He scoops up Valerie who pretends to faint in his arms

“Oh dear!” Patton exclaims “The princess has fallen!” Valerie pauses, giggling before resuming her position. “Who is to blame for this horrendous crime?” Valerie peeks her eye open and points to Remus.

“It was the duke, good sir!” Valerie cries, Patton lets out a small gasp turning to his son who stands idly in the room a delighted grin plastered on his face. Patton scoops up the boy and holds the twins in his arms.

“No! You got me...oh no!” Remus cries, struggling in his father's tight hold. He tickles them both resulting in shrieks of laughter “No! My secret weakness!” Patton swings them around in a fit of giggles finally placing the pair on the ground winded. They giggle and prance around their father hyperactively. Patton watches with absolute love.

“Patton?” Patton turns swiftly still reeling, he faces the door. Logan stands in the now open doorway examining the situation. Patton’s face immediately falls. He straightens his posture and turns fully towards the be-speckled man. “I apologize for interrupting…” He takes a look at the kids “Your work, however, I wanted to ask if you were available to go over the case files” Logan raises an eyebrow waiting for an answer.

“Hmph” Valerie turns away from Logan followed by Remus and they begin playing once more. Patton shakes his head and sighs.

“Actually I'm not” Patton declares, Remus snickers behind him “I would prefer to keep my case files, notes, and more to myself. If you want a case, build it yourself” He says cross. Logan is stunned into silence at the sudden angry demeanor of the usually bright fatherly man. He adjusts his tie and swallows.

“I understand” He furrows his brows “I suppose I will see you… in court” He feels himself begin to sweat before quickly leaving the room. Patton huffs, he feels a twinge of guilt seeing the appalling mans face rush away. His mood drains quickly and he returns to his work silently, watching the kids and struggling with his statement. Logan's face keeps flashing in his mind, he feels his stomach drop below his toes with overwhelming amounts of guilt. I just hate how this is a game to him, Patton thinks furiously scribbling new notes down. It isn't, this is somebody's life. Patton leans back in his chair listening to the soft chatter of the twins playing on their mat. Suddenly flooded with images.

~~~

“Oh, good Patton you're here!” A man calls as Patton slugs into the courthouse. He immediately feels his mood drop walking into the musty setting. The windows are all covered except a sliver of sun exposing the dust floating around the room. He tries his hardest to keep up a smile by thinking of his kids, and his friends back home and… Logan. Patton feels himself giggle at the thought of his rival, the man's brow scrunched anytime he thinks. His eyes lighting up when the puzzle pieces fit, the way he speaks to the twins softly. Patton sighs, ready to continue venturing further into the courthouse greeted by another man.

“Good Morning Leo!” Patton greets his old friend. He recalls when the boys were both students struggling through Harvard Law school, late nights in the dorms, laughing about ridiculous cases they come across. “So, I’ve been kept in the dark for this long! What's my case?” Patton inquires following Leo towards his office.

“Well have you heard of the ‘Cruiser Murder Case’?” Leo asks closing the door behind them. Patton feels himself falter but keeps up his posterior. He shakes his head admittedly. Leo swallows, he opens up a file on his desk handing a copy to Patton. “Jerry Cruiser is on trial for a string of murders” Leo reads, he pauses nervously examining Patton's face whos already reading ahead. “He is under suspicion for 23 murders across the country, the victims ranging-”

“Infant to toddler?!” Patton shrieks horrified staring at the evidence photos. He slams the file onto the desk and clasps his hand over his mouth. He feels hot tears begin to run down his eyes and his breathing hitches. Images of Remus and Valerie flood his mind, he shuts his eyes tight trying to shove them out. It fails, resulting in the images growing more gruesome and distorted. He shakes his head violently, barely able to hear Leos voice growing in concern.

“Patton?” Leo rushes over “Patton are you alright? Breathe P!” Leo leads him back to the chair trying to calm him down. Patton listens trying to follow Leos example. Slowly they fall into a rhythm and Patton can feel himself steady. “Good...good. P, what just happened?” Patton nods.

“I just- I-i... “ Patton thinks of his twins “How can someone do that? How can you take away life from an innocent child-” He chokes back a sob, Leo continues rubbing his back.

“Patton you do not have to take this case” Leo says firmly

“No, no. I'm going to take this case, because that… that man” He seethes at the word “Cannot get away with this, I am not going to let him.” He rubs his eyes “Where do we start?” He asks determined, Leo nods unsure but they begin.

~~~

“Dada?” Remus tugs on his father's shirt pulling him back into the present. “Dada, is it lunchtime?” Remus asks softly pointing at his stomach. Patton pushes his glasses up and adjusts. He sits up plastering on the best smile he can muster and nods. He cleans up his desk quickly and organizes the kid's toys. He takes their hands and leads them out of the room and towards the cafeteria. He scans the bustling lunch area quickly spotting a free table for them and sits them down. He goes to ask them what they want but is quickly distracted by boisterous laughter that erupts. He turns his head towards the source and smiles brightly at the sight of a certain judge laughing along with some other peers. Roman spots the family and finishes up his conversation making his way over to the table. He sits down ruffling Remus hair making the pair giggle.

“Good afternoon Ro!” Patton greets smiling “I didn't see you around this morning, what were you up to?” He asks innocently unpacking the children's lunch. Remus immediately goes for the pickles Patton packed along with the sandwiches. Valerie scrunches her face in disgust grabbing her strawberries. Remus stares at her in confusion, then turns his attention to Roman. He holds out his pickles offering the regal judge some.

“RoRo would like some of my juicy pickles?” He asks slurping up another one. Roman tries his best not to gag at the boy's antics and politely smiles.

“Remus please don't say ‘juicy’ in that context” Patton says stifling a laugh. Remus ponders this before perking up.

“Juicy butthole?” He asks quickly putting another one in his mouth. Valerie groans annoyed joined by a flustered Patton. Roman shakes his head smiling at the young twins.

“LESS okay Dukey” Roman says, Remus gleams at his nickname “And I’m alright thank you.” Roman declines the offer, Remus shrugs and continues eating his treat. Roman turns to Patton “I was out getting the final evidence for the case this evening, and was temporarily called away to… other duties” He finishes, Patton eyes him doubtful.

“Other duties?” Patton inquires raising an eyebrow. Valerie bounces up.

“Papa! He was out saving the world! Like the brave Prince, he is!” She claims striking a royal pose. Roman nods in agreement scooping her up and spinning her around.

“You are absolutely right Princesa!” He plops her back into her seat “I was off in the brave world doing princely duties” Valerie and Remus bounce with excitement urging Roman to continue. He obliges and the twins listen intently to his stories throughout lunch. Patton watches ecstatically, feeling incredibly happy to be back.

~~~

“Feeling any better bud?” Virgil asks playing carefully with Damian's hair. The pair sit on the couch relaxed watching TV. Damian is curled into his father occasionally sitting up to try some ice chips. The TV plays quietly running through different cartoons that they both enjoy happily. Damian nods sleepily pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He tries his best to focus on the reruns of the original ‘Teen Titans’ now playing on the screen but feels his eyes get heavy, ultimately he fails and falls into a light sleep. Virgil mutes the TV and carefully removes himself from under Damian. He goes about cleaning the ‘Upchuck bucket’, so graciously named by his son and Roman, he grabs more ice chips and stores away the leftover soup. He makes his way into Damian's room organizing it and preparing it for the little one. He looks around the dimly lit room, examining the yellow walls. He makes up the boys animal themed bed and places his plushies neatly on it. He cleans up the books around the boys reading corner and fluffs up the smushed beanbag. He can't help but laugh if it was anyone else Virgil would never bother with these tedious tasks. In fact a mere five years ago Virgil didn't think he would be doing this. But for Damian, sweet, smart and curious Damian he would do anything. He finishes tidying the room before making his way back to the living room. Damian snores faintly as the bright pictures from the TV flash. He cradles the sleeping child delicately and brings him to his room, tucking him in once more. Damian barely stirs before adjusting to his surroundings, Virgils inhales sharply but the boy is asleep. He makes his way into his own room sitting at the edge of his bed. He practices his breathing, trying to gain a steady control over his feelings. He feels a light buzz in his pocket and thanks the heavens for the distraction.

“Detective Virgil Tormine, what can I do for ya?” He responds, reciting a phrase so ingrained in his mind. He listens intently slowly becoming more determined and switching into gear. “Understood, I will be right there.” He goes to hang up but quickly adds “Remy, do not do anything until I get there, ok?” He begs waiting for his partner's answer. Once Remy's actions are confirmed he shuts his phone running a hand through his already messy hair.

“Fuck” Is the only thing he utters before grabbing his badge.

~~~

Once lunch has finished Patton and Roman take the kids to the daycare room reluctantly handing off the twins to Lia, the caretaker. He kisses them both smothering them for almost ten minutes before Roman finally drags the saddened lawyer away. The kids adjust happily playing with the other children present. Patton walks away hesitantly, feeling an awful knot form in his stomach, his heart pulsating inside his nervous chest.

“Padre? Are you alright?” Roman queries stopping them both in their tracks. Patton kicks the ground beneath him, summoning a childlike manner. He takes a quick breath.

“I hate leaving them…” He admits, Roman nods encouraging him “After Canada...I just get nervous whenever I’m not with them. It's stupid I know let's just go” He wipes his eyes and continues walking. Roman follows doubtful, they make their way into Patton's office. Patton gathers his things and makes sure he has everything for the afternoon.

“It's not stupid, Patton” Roman comforts, Patton continues silently “Look the ‘Cruiser Murd-” Patton suddenly drops his laptop and scurries to pick it up. “Sorry...sorry”

“Can we please move on? Just forget I said anything, I don't need to be thinking about this…” He latches his briefcase closed “Especially not right now, not when I'm about to go be a shark in the water” Roman furrows his brows confused “It's a Harvard thing… sorry.” Roman nods holding the door open for the small lawyer. They walk silently to the court freezing at the sight of an unbearable crowd surrounding the doors. “What...what in the world?” Patton tilts his head. Suddenly a man rushes towards Patton followed by a camera.

“Mr.Hart! Mr.Hart sir!” The man rushes holding a microphone in between the two men “How do you feel about the new allegations being made against your client?” He asks

“New allegations?” Patton manages overwhelmed by the sudden crowd forming around him.

“Your client is now being accused of two extra murders. Two children were found dead in the same manner that the previous murders were committed” The man says buzzing. Everything Patton had built up shatters, he feels himself shake violently. He can't hear any more of what the reporter is saying as his world collapses.

#objection au #can you see all my musical references oops #logicality #prinxiety #demus #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ao3 #archive of our own #thomas sanders #sanders sides #youtube

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survivingthejungle · 5 years

Text

never fade away viii

FINALLY, GOD

You tried your hardest to control the sinking feeling in your stomach, but no matter what, you couldn’t stop it. The large cup of iced coffee you were sucking down certainly wasn’t helping, but it did give you the energy you knew you were desperately lacking. Your phone was in your other hand, held in a death grip, while you were sending a text to a small group of close friends inquiring after you.

e: you got this baby

l: i love you and i know you can handle anything. you are a badass and so incredibly strong and i admire your courage and selflessness.

c: Call us as soon as you can and we will have a movie night tonight to forget all about it

You sent a quick message back to them once the guard at the front office motioned for you to follow after.

y/n: wish me luck i hate this so much and i love you all

“We can’t permit outside belongings in this visiting room,” the guard informed you. There was a small metal table outside of the room you were soon to be entering, and you put all of your belongings down on it, suddenly feeling very empty and anxious and restless and fidgety. “Ms. (Y/L/N),” he addressed you again, “I can tell that you’re nervous and that is completely understandable and expected. I just wanna let you know that we aren’t going to let anything happen to you in there. The minute you want to go, you let us know and we’ll get you out in the blink of an eye. He’s got armed guards watching him, he’s restrained, and there’s bulletproof glass in between. I promise you you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you, it means a lot. I guess I better get this over with.” With that, he opened the heavy metal door for you and you entered into a plain, dark, windowless room with cinderblock walls and a concrete floor. At the wall adjacent to you was a thick glass window with chicken wire in between two panes, and on the other side of that window sat the boy who had been tormenting you for the past year and a half. Kidnapping, assaulting, overall traumatizing… and yet you had still agreed to visit him per his request. He was wearing the characteristic striped jumpsuit adorned by all inmates, and the sides of his head were shaved. The face that had once been stapled on was now held in place by stitches and surgical glue, and somehow made him look even more menacing. Even through all your layers—a t-shirt, overalls, and a cozy windbreaker—his stare alone managed to send shivers down your spine and spread goosebumps across your skin.

He was the first to break the silence. “Fancy seeing you here!” he cackled, grinning madly. “D’you come just to visit little old me?”

“I came because I don’t want any more people dying.”

“Always the savior,” he commented, on the verge of an eye-roll. “C’mon, sit down closer. Not like I can come near ya, anyhow.” He gestured to the window. You followed suit and shrunk back into yourself, arms locked tightly to your sides and legs locked together, feet curling up beneath the chair. “Ya look nervous. Is it the scars?” he asked you, pointing to his face.

You scoffed. “I’m not scared of you,” you told him, not the jumpy little girl you had been for so long anymore. A new wave of courage pulsed through you. “I’m sick of you.” His eyebrows raised, goading you on. “I’m sick of you trying to get in my head, and freak me out, and take me away from everyone I love. You should have stayed dead.”

“Not exactly the reunion I was hoping for, babe,” he chuckled, clearly trying to mask the hurt he felt at your words (however slight it was).

“Don’t call me that.”

“Jeez, so hostile! What’s got you acting like this, (Y/N)? What happened to that sweet girl I used to know, huh?” You stared him down for a moment, formulating a response.

“You stole me away from my family and my friends because you thought I was sweet? Is that it? Because you think I’m pretty or something, you decided you should just go ahead and ruin my life? And then you have the nerve,” you let out a breathy laugh, beginning to tear up but not wanting to let them spill, “To expect me to—what, to just run back to your arms at your beck and call? I’m not some object you can just keep around for entertainment, okay, I’m not a pet for you to play around with. Keep fucking threatening guards, inmates, I don’t care. I never want to see your ugly face again.” He remained silent, face stoic.

“Sunshine, listen—”

“NO!” you roared, standing up from your seat. “That is not my name! Okay? Don’t use fucking pet names on me and act like we’re some functioning couple, we aren’t. You keep coming back to find a new way to ruin my life and I have had enough…” A few tears that you had tried your hardest to hold back spilled down your cheeks. “You’re locked up in a fucking prison and yet somehow still managed to find a way to make me miserable. It’s amazing, really. Super impressive how dedicated you are to making me wish I were dead! Look me in the face,” you snapped, leaning down to the glass to stare at him. “We are not a ‘thing’, I am not your little girlfriend, I am not your pet, and you do not get to tell me how things work anymore. I’m done. It’s over. You lost this game, Jerome, and you can try all you want to get me to come back but I will never see you ever again. I hope you are miserable and rotting away in here for the rest of your life.” You backed away from the window, not ever bothering to listen to his protests of your storming out. You pried open the heavy door and stepped out of the room and grabbed your stuff, thanking the officer and showing yourself the way out. Emotions still on high and adrenaline still pumping, you four-way called your friends. “Do you guys wanna meet at my house? I need to see you all.”

—

You awoke among a pile of pillows and people in your basement on the couch facing the T.V. Elle was at the opposite end of you, halfway draped over Cara and bundled in a thick duvet from one of the closets. Your right leg was lodged beneath the both of them, and Laura was leaning up against you from the other side, using your left shoulder as a pillow. Your own pillow was still underneath your head and a blanket was being shared between you and Cara while Laura had managed to find one for herself. The sun was shining in through the windows and you could hear music coming from upstairs, as well as all the noises accompanied with cooking breakfast. Elle was the first to wake up soon after you. “Is your dad making breakfast?” She asked you, still groggy from her rest and struggling to keep her eyes open.

“I think so, do you wanna go up?”

“No,” she groaned, “I wanna go back to sleep!”

“Too late, we’re already awake,” you argued, “Let’s go!” She and you both untangled yourself from the pile and headed upstairs, catching whiffs of freshly brewed coffee, waffles, and eggs. “Mornin’, dad,” you greeted your father, who was standing at the stove and scrambling the eggs.

“Mornin’, kids. What happened to the rest of your friends? Did they disappear?”

“They’re still asleep because they’re lazy,” Elle joked, and you all three laughed.

“Well, that’s alright, because you guys will just get the better waffles.” There was a large plate of them on the counter next to the stove, covered by tin foil and waiting to be devoured. You and Elle both grabbed plates off of the table behind him and piled your plates with all the food you could manage. You sat yourselves in the living room, some old movie playing on TCM while you ate in relative silence.

Your mother entered the kitchen, still in her pajamas and just barely awake enough to function. “Hun, will you go get the mail real quick?” she asked you.

“Sure,” you assured her, and dashed outside once you slipped on a pair of old sandals. You reached the mailbox and removed all the contents, flipping through it on the off chance that anything had arrived for you. Toward the bottom pile was a letter addressed to you, and on the envelope there was an official seal from—of course. Arkham Asylum. And so you could only guess who had sent the letter to you. Absentmindedly making your way back inside, you were solely focused on the letter as you made a beeline for your room and shut the door behind you. You took a deep breath, leaning against the door, and broke the seal. Did you even want to open it? Did you want to run the risk of seeing the contents? Was it worth it at all?

The letter was sharp, scribbly handwriting with a mix between cursive and print.

Hey, Sunshine.

I couldn’t help but think a lot about what you said after you left today.

He wrote this yesterday?

You shouldn’t have said all that stuff. I know you didn’t mean it and you were just upset. And I’m sorry I made you cry, even though you’re so pretty when you cry. You aren’t a pet to me, you’re my girl, and you should realize that by now. I know you are going to need some time to process and I will be waiting here for you when you come back.

Until I see you again I am going to write to you every day. I miss you. I look forward to seeing you soon, sweet girl.

Jerome

After you had read through it twice, you crumbled it up and threw it away. You weren’t going to let him get to your head and upset you anymore. You even told yourself you wouldn’t open his letters once you got them.

But that was a lie, you knew it. You couldn’t help but open them, and read them; as much as you hated what he did to you, you would always be curious to see what he had to say. You kept your resolve of ignoring him, however.

Each day he found a new way to almost make you feel guilty for not responding or visiting.

I’m still waiting for you. I’ll always wait for you.

Wasn’t I good to you? I never hurt you.

Darling

Sweetheart

Pretty girl

Honey bee

Don’t forget about me. I never forget about you.

And sometimes there would be threats, too. Those were the days you didn’t feel guilty, more like anxious.

I’ll find you again one day. I always do.

People are getting hurt because of you. You don’t want them to keep getting hurt. You’re too kind for that. Be a good girl and come back.

I’m not happy with you today. You keep disobeying me.

And, true to his word, the letters continued to come in every day. You kept them all in a shoebox in the bottom of your closet; hidden away out of sight but still there. You weren’t really sure why you hadn’t just thrown them all away, or burnt them. Surely it wasn’t for sentimental reasons, but you really just didn’t want to let them go. Sometimes they made you feel good about yourself, like when he told you how much he missed you and thought of you all day and reminded you of how beautiful he thought you were. But even the ones that weren’t as sweet, that left threats dangling above your head like the Sword of Damocles, you couldn’t throw away.

And one day, the letters stopped coming. You kept rereading his most recent letter over and over, trying to understand what had happened. You’d almost become dependent on receiving them every day; they were the one constant that you’d had recently. I know I’ll see you soon. I can’t wait. Can you?

Can you?

enjoy another silly little moodboard that i was using for inspo when i wrote this

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #gotham imagine #gotham #jerome valeska x reader #cameron monaghan #cameron monaghan imagine #jerome #jerome valeska one shot #gotham on fox #never fade away #part EIGHT!!!!#did yall catch the tdk reference #also #jeremiah velaska #might as well add his tag #enjoy

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