#and that's why he gets some of the strongest clock memories and is possibly the first to pick up on how italy is acting off...

[italyveneziano]

OH NO

[katszumi]

part one but can be read as a standalone!

today’s the day— the six year reunion for all the graduated u.a students. the day bakugou was internally dreading.

he didn’t want to attend, but because of shitty hair, he basically had no other choice. he thought it was stupid, annoying even considering the fact he still works with some of his old classmates.

plus, bakugou was never the type to attend gatherings. he hated the loud noise, busy moving bodies, and the useless small talk people had just to be respectful. none of it was apart of bakugou’s persona, not even his pr managers could change that.

but, he also knows the slight possibility of you being there. he knows someone extended the invite to you, back then every single classmate loved you.

since the night he rudely brushed you off, you haven’t been in contact with him once. his messages still delivered green, and you unable to show on any of his social media. for him, you only existed as a fragment of his memory other than the times you appear on television or the news.

you seemed to be thriving in america. the first year you went, he remembers seeing an article online on how you quickly climbed the ranks in america, the americans instantly adoring everything about you. despite your hero name and quirk, fans began to relate you to a siren, claiming how you were too captivating and powerful to be true. soon, citizens also began to recognize you as the star-spangled siren.

no doubt, bakugou thought it was hilarious. it was something so incredibly stupid. but it was also a reminder that you accomplished your dream. you were a great hero. all of your fears from six years ago were disregarded, and you proved to yourself that you built yourself up by yourself with no support system.

he always knew you were the strongest within the class. maybe that’s why he always felt so weak in front of you. he didn’t stand a chance against you, especially when he finds your figure standing by the bar.

you were messing with your drink, engaging in conversation with mina and ochako. those were the girls always attached at your hip back then.

at first he questions himself whether to squeeze himself in the conversation, or to leave you be. he figured that if you wanted to talk to him then you would’ve reached out years ago.

but before he could act on anything, your gaze meets his. it feels like time on every clock comes to a halt.

he takes in your new differences from the last time he saw you. you grew an inch or two taller, which he found hilarious since you used to pray to be taller. you’re a little more tan; bakugou remembering somewhere in a textbook that the states received more hours of sunlight than japan. you’ve matured more in your face; you were always the girl he found cute. but now, your gazing eyes were more fierce, your pouting lips that he often found himself sneaking glances at were parted, and your newly developed body; your arms were more toned, your body a tad more curvaceous.

enamored wasn’t even the right word to describe bakugou. an understatement even.

it’s all too strange how he felt a pulsation in his chest, his heart hammering from the small moment of eye-contact. he believed that he got over you, coming to terms that there’d never be a chance that you’d talk to him with dancing eyes and a grin on your face like before. but, oh boy, was he wrong.

guilt immersed him. he was angry with himself for treating you like you didn’t matter. everything you said that day, you were right. he didn’t tell you anything related to his emotions, he was avoiding you for weeks, and he was a dick for simply letting you go. he knew all of this, even years ago he realized. bakugou wasn’t the type to go back on his word nor apologize.

but in order for you to talk to him with even a fake smile on your face, he would have to do just that. though, it was you— he wouldn’t mind getting down on both knees, begging for you to forgive him if he had to.

pathetic, bakugou would say, who in their right mind would do something like that? but he would. because six years later, bakugou was still pathetically in love with you.

mina noticed your shift in eye, so she peered over her shoulder, searching the area for what grabbed your attention. it was quick the way she noticed it was him that snatched your breath. her eyes widened for a small moment before turning her head once again.

mina was probably talking shit about him, that was no surprise. even though he and mina got together well, you and mina were attached at the hip; she valued you more than him. he easily read mina’s body language, you must’ve told mina the situation long ago from the way she placed her palm on your arm and rubbed it gently.

unfortunately, he didn’t care if you or mina would be frustrated with his audacity. if anything, everything he was going to do from this point on was because he cared so much about you. so fuckin’ much he’d drain the ocean dry to prove his love to you.

bakugou had only fallen in love twice. once with you and once with a mirror. one, a destructive on-going path without a clear result. one, someone so far-fetched yet still warm and beautiful. someone that eventually in time becomes part of the oxygen he needs to breathe.

the mirror was the first-choice. becoming the number one hero was his only objective, no matter the opportunity cost, he was going to do anything to reach his goal. halfway through, he realized he chose wrong.

there was no point in reaching the goal without you. you were his hands and feet, so why did he expect himself to be okay with the situation he caused?

bakugou hated defeat, he already knows that. but he’d be damned if he allowed you to slip through his fingers once more.

and just like that, his legs are moving towards you and mina. his mind consisted of nothing; he had no words ready for you, no apology prepared. he just sees you and, like always, he needs to be in your vicinity.

as he marches towards you, he realizes that it’s always been like this, him chasing you to his hearts desire. at the beginning, it was a light jog nothing that would cause him to break a sweat. soon it turned into a full-blown sprint, the gap between you and him seeming to increase every day.

before he could muster anything to say, he makes it to you. he keeps his distance from you so you don’t run away, but enough that he can see the pores on your face.

you ogle at him, your face twisted a bit. mostly likely from the surprise of him trudging towards you as if nothing happened. mina rolled her eyes at him as she folded her arms.

“bakugou, don’t be one of those.” mina started.

“one of what?!”

she scoffed. “one of those obsessive guys when they realized they’ve lost a gem because they were stupid as fuck.” mina him a ‘that’s you’ look. “don’t come crawling back now.”

bakugou opened his mouth to object mina, prepared to go off on her. just a week ago, she was chatting it up with him, kirishima, and denki, no animosity found in any of her statements. but since you were here, she supposed she had to play the part as the protective best-friend.

but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

“it’s fine, mina.”

your voice was still the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. so gentle and euphonious. he wanted to thank the heavens on the earth for allowing him this opportunity again even when he’s a shitty guy. he didn’t deserve you, he knew that, but he couldn’t bypass the overwhelming feeling of yearning you.

he shifted in his position, clearly shocked that you didn’t seem to hate the fact he was standing within your vicinity.

mina also shocked, raised a brow at her best-friend. “you sure babes?” you nodded in response. the pink colored woman leaned into her ear, whispering god-knows what, before walking away with ochako to leave you and him alone.

you faced bakugou fully now, your eyes taking in the subtle distinctions he’s made over the years. bakugou always was one of the strongest in the class, but even now, he developed into a rigorous man. you can tell he’s shaved recently, the small hairs on his chin slowly starting to form. his eyes are more relaxed, seeming more generous.

alike him, you too kept post on bakugou in japan. you’d frequently find yourself searching him on the internet to wonder how he’s doing. just like he told you and everyone else at u.a, he was now the number one hero of japan. he proved to all his doubters that he could do it.

you were proud of him, internally rooting him on from 6,303 miles away. however, externally, you masked a look of resentment for him.

he broke your heart when he pushed you away. you didn’t understand why it was so difficult for him to come clean about things, especially when it came to you.

you had enough of it.

or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, hoping for your heart to believe it as your mind did.

“hi,” you said. he could tell you were nervous from the way your hand slightly trembled. “long time no see.”

bakugou anxiously chuckled, “yeah.” he instinctively ran his fingers through his hair as he swallowed nothing. “look, i’m not even going to waste any time with this. y/n, i am so fuckin’ sorry.” his tone softened, coming from the deepest part of him. you can’t recall a time where his voice ever sounded so tender like this.

“kat—” you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“no, i mean it. i am sorry for being a coward. i was a fool for treating you like you didn’t matter to me when that wasn’t the case, it was never the case. you were too good for me and that scared me. i’m rough on the outside, i couldn’t imagine savoring someone so mellow. i’m a pathetic asshole, a bitch, a cunt.”

you reached forward to place your hand on his wrist. “don’t say such things about yourself, katsuki. you are not any of those things.”

“don’t be good with me. i don’t deserve to be treated this way. give me the punishment i deserve for causing you anguish.” he begged. unknowingly, his hands slipped into yours. you could feel his sweat accumulate, his shaky hands.

all of this just for you to forgive him. how could you ever despise him when he’s an emotional wreck in the palm of your hands?

“it’s okay, katsuki. i’ve come to forget about it years ago. you’re one of the best things to happen to me during my adolescence. we were young and we both said things we didn’t mean back then.” bakugou looks at you with a pout. “i forgive you.”

you pull bakugou into a hug, wrapping your arms around him. you almost had forgotten how much bigger his figure was compared to yours until he bear-hugs you.

“how long are you staying until you leave for america?” he asks.

“i was going to wait till the end of the night to share this, but i was never one to hold secrets from you.” you released bakugou from the hug, a smile tugging your lips. “i’m coming back to japan.”

“what? but america… why?” he scrambled for words.

you lightly shrugged, “not my kind of place. i also really missed my home.”

“fuckin’ hell,” his words trailed off. bakugou couldn’t imagine the happiness that was coming from him right now. in his mind, he thanked kirishima for dragging him here. “i’m so relieved.”

you laughed, one that bakugou could tell wasn’t fake. he couldn’t help but to smile. he was finally talking to you, the woman he loved, after six long years. he was unsure if he could survive another minute of you ignoring him.

“so, back then, did you?”

“did i what?”

“back then, did you like me? did i really mean something to you?”

bakugou tried to remember if you were ever this dense? what a stupid fuckin’ question, bakugou thinks.

“you were the first person ever to tell me to have desires and to not hold back.” he explains. “did i like you? y/n, i loved you. every part of you, i loved. hell, i still do.” it seemed easier for him to confess, maybe it was from the adrenaline he was feeling in this moment.

but he didn’t care, if anything he was glad. you needed to hear it just as much he needed to admit it to himself.

“then, let’s start over, katsuki. let’s ditch this place, i know you’re not a big fan of parties anyway.”

bakugou knows all too well, he loves it how you remember the smallest parts of him. he loves your consideration and emotional warmth that you’re always quick to offer. even though, the gates were open for you to leave, you stayed.

he knew that his love for you would last a lifetime and would always welcome you with sweet grace and a humble gratitude.

all he can do is nod in response, hoping to suppress his racing heartbeat.

bakugou takes your hand to lead you to the exit of the party. “my job here is done anyway.”

@b134ch-m4h-ey3z @bsallergy

[wishuhadstayed]

It Takes a Village

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: about 3000

Summary: when the Hotchner fam is in need, it’s a good thing to have many helping hands. Part 9 to Begin Again.

Warnings: mentions of blood and pregnancy complications

Author’s Note: I really am sorry for that cliffhanger y’all. 😬 I’m just glad you still love me after being gone for like, a literal year. Shoutout to @agent-laufeyson you’re the best 💜 (PS, please ignore Haley in the below gif, also please picture Hotch in the hospital in casual clothes.) 😌

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

For a moment, Aaron’s whole world stopped turning. A cold, familiar sense of dread settled into his chest at the words, “You all may want to sit down for this.”

“Not again,” he thought. “I can’t do this again, we can’t do this again.”

“God please,” he begged internally, slumping into a chair, “if you’re listening, please don’t take her. We need her.”

Suddenly, the voice of a surgeon cut through the silent room like a knife.

“Sir, your wife lost a significant amount of blood. We had no choice but to perform an emergency c-section. Although your daughter is slightly pre-term, she seems to be in good health. However, we would like to keep her a while for monitoring.”

“And my wife?” He inquires, voice trembling with fear.

“It was touch and go there for a while, but we were able to locate the source of bleeding and get it under control. Your wife is out of surgery. She’s stable, but she is very weak and currently asleep. She will also be hospitalized for recovery. At least a week most likely, maybe longer.”

“Mama’s gonna be okay?” Jack pipes up.

“Yes, she is buddy,” Aaron replies, ruffling his hair. “Thanks to that doctor.”

“Thanks for making my mama feel better.”

“You’re most welcome,” the surgeon replied. “You and your dad can go visit her now. The rest of you will have to wait. She needs her rest. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you doctor,” Aaron says, shaking his hand with a sigh of relief.

“You go Aaron,” Rossi encourages, clapping him on the shoulders before he even had a chance to turn around. “Go see your wife and baby. We’ll wait.”

——————————————————————————

Entering your hospital room, Aaron thought your sleeping face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Sitting on the side of your hospital bed, he grabbed hand as you stirred awake.

“Hello Angel,” he murmurs as you take everything in. “You gave us quite a scare,” he mentions, softly caressing your face.

“The baby,” you whisper, touching his hand.

“Ssssshhhh,” he soothes. “The baby is fine. She’s in the nursery. You just rest okay?”

Instant relief washes over your face. “Jack?”

“I’m right here mama!” he exclaims, scrambling into Aaron’s lap.

“I want to see the baby,” you tell Aaron.

“I know darling, but you really need your rest.”

“I NEED to see her, Aaron.” You plead.

Taking the hint, he begins to rise. “Jack why don’t you stay with mama, while I go talk to the nurse, okay?”

“Okay Daddy,” he agrees, climbing in the bed next to you.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better mama,” Jack says, looking up at you with the sweetest face.

“Me too, baby,” you reply. “Are you ready to meet your sister?”

“Yeah!” he exclaims with a look of excitement. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course you can buddy, as long as you’re careful,” Aaron replies as he re-enters the room. “The nurses are bringing her down.”

A few minutes later a nurse arrives holding a tiny pink blanket. “Who wants to hold her first?” She inquires.

“You should hold her first, Aaron,” you suggest.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he insists. “You’ve been the strongest, bravest mom I know already. You should hold her first.”

As the nurse places the tiny, squirming bundle with her father’s dark hair in your arms, all the stress and chaos of the day seems to just melt away.

As you free a tiny hand from the swaddle so she can grasp your finger, her eyes flutter open.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” you wonder aloud.

“Absolutely lovely,” Aaron muses, draping his arm around your shoulders. “Just like her mother.”

——————————————————————————

Meanwhile, cooped up in the waiting area, the BAU team began to grow restless.

“Maybe we should get out of the hospital and go shopping while we wait,” Garcia suggests. “I think Y/N deserves all the gifts and pretty things today.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” JJ questions.

“TARGET RUN!” all three women exclaim in unison.

They all wandered the aisles like kids in a candy store.

“I’m getting her balloons,” Penelope says. “Like so many pink balloons. Nobody can feel bad with that many balloons.”

“Flowers,” Rossi chimes in. “We should get her plenty of flowers to make the room cheerful.”

“We’ll have to get those from hospital gift shop,” JJ comments.

“I’d want chocolate,” Emily suggests. “Chocolate helps everything.”

“Look,” Morgan says, showing a pink stuffed bunny to Garcia. “It’s cute right? For the baby?”

“It’s perfect, Derek,” she assures, grabbing his hand. “Very cute.”

“Oh, a memory book,” Reid mentions. “So they can write down details every day.”

“Leave it to the genius to pick out a book,” Morgan jokes with a playful shove.

“Settle down, boys.” JJ cuts in. “As much as I’m sure she’ll appreciate the pretty gifts, she did just have a baby,” she reminds the group. “She needs some practical things too, trust me.” As she picks out a blanket and a pacifier, Henry begins to grow restless. As she picked up a snack for him, another idea crossed her mind.

“We should get something for Jack, too,” she thought aloud. “LEGOs. He loves LEGOs. And some gummy bears.”

A sudden ringing startles everyone.

“Ssssshhhhhhh,” Garcia commands as she puts the phone on speaker. “It’s Y/N! Quiet!”

“Hello my angel dear,” she lilts, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m very tired, but otherwise happy and healthy,” you report. “Is everyone with you?”

“We’re all here,” JJ chimes in.

“Hi everyone!” You reply. “In that case, I have news. The nurses have said that we’re allowed to have visitors first thing in the morning, if you’d like to see our newest addition.”

“Oh, wild horses could not keep us away, ma’am.” Penelope assures. “We’ll see you all bright and early.”

“Not too early, Penny,” you remind her. “You gotta give me a chance to wake up first.”

“Right, sooooo 10am then?”

“It’s a date.”

——————————————————————————

That evening, you soaked up as much family time as possible before the wave of visitors began. Aaron was a natural, as you’d known he would be from seeing him with Jack.

Watching him with the baby was quickly becoming your favorite pastime. The look of sheer enchantment on his face as he held her close and rocked her made you fall a little more in love with him every moment.

“Daddy loves you so much,” he coos to the tiny bundle in his arms.

“What?” he questions as he catches you watching.

“Oh nothing,” you reply, ruffling Jack’s hair as he slept by your side. “Just wondering how I got so lucky.”

“I think it’s me who got lucky. I thought I’d never love again. I was so closed off. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life as a single dad, doing everything on my own. Now,” he chokes out, “now I’d fall apart without you.”

“Good thing you’ve got two of us now to keep you boys in line then,” you return with a wicked grin. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already.”

——————————————————————————

When you awoke the next morning, you were greeted by the most beautiful sight. Aaron still asleep in the recliner next your bed, his arm cradling the sleeping baby on his chest. While you hated to disturb the peaceful scene, you knew the team would be arriving as soon as the clock struck 10.

“Aaron,” you whisper. “Aaron, wake up,” slightly louder this time. He stirs awake, moving slowly so as not to wake the sleeping child.

“What is it babe?”

“The team will be here soon,” you inform him.

“Ah. I should go get ready,” he replies.

“Mama, can I hold her while dad gets ready?” Jack asks, startling the both of you.

“Oh buddy, I didn’t realize you were awake,” you say to him. “Of course you can hold her if you want.”

Jack scrambled into your lap as Aaron rounded the bed.

“Just be really careful with her bud,” Aaron reminds him as he settles the baby on his lap.

“I will dad,” he replies.

As Aaron walked away, the baby’s eyes fluttered open and she let out a small cry.

“Here, why don’t you give her a pacifier?” you suggest.

“Sssshhhh, don’t cry,” he says, giving her the pacifier, and then softly stroking her head.

“What do you think about your baby sister, Jack?”

“She’s pretty, Mama, just like you.”

“Thank you baby,” you reply. “That’s very sweet. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.”

“And I love you all,” Aaron adds.

——————————————————————————

A short while later, a knock at the door alerts you that your visitors have arrived.

“You ready for this?” Aaron asks as he walks to the door.

“I’ve never been more ready. I just know they’re gonna be so in love with her.”

Aaron opens the door and the team flows in with their myriad of gifts.

Penelope hands off her bouquet of balloons to Derek and rushes over to hug you.

“Oh Y/N,” she gushes, cupping your face. “You look beautiful. It’s so good to see you, we were all worried sick.”

“Thank you Penny,” you reply, eyeing the room. “I’m assuming the shopping spree was your idea.”

“Oh shush woman,” she scolds. “You deserve it. We wanted your room to cozy and pretty because we heard you’re going to be here for a while. Sue us.”

“Thank you all for the gifts, you really didn’t have to do any of that,” you reply, tearing up as you address the whole room. “Just being there for us when we needed you the most was all we could ask for and you’ve gone above and beyond.”

“This is the least we could do, really,” JJ assures, softly rubbing your hand.

“Oh fine, be modest if you insist,” you reply with an eye roll. “I’d open all the gifts now, but I imagine you’re all much more interested in our slightly earlier than anticipated arrival.”

Seemingly for the first time since they came in, everyone notices Aaron’s presence and the little pink bundle in his arms.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you continue, “the announcement you’ve all been waiting for. Introducing Miss Savannah Rose.”

“What a lovely name,” Emily chimes in.

“Thank you,” Aaron cuts in. “We would have told you all sooner but we actually just decided on it while we were here,” he says beaming down at his perfectly content infant daughter. “You can all hold her if you like.”

“I’m sure we’d all love to,” JJ replies, “but i think we should leave that you for now. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to spoil her rotten just as soon as she gets home.”

“Right! We just wanted to check on everyone and make sure you have everything you need,” Garcia adds.

“Well thanks to you guys, I think our hospital room is pretty well stocked. I just wish I could say the same for the nursery,” you say with a shrug.

“What’s wrong with the nursery?” Rossi inquires.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Aaron admits. “Between me traveling so much for work and Y/N being pregnant and taking care of Jack, it got pushed to the wayside. I thought we had a bit more time.”

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you it’s not your fault?” you soothe, reaching for his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“I know, I just wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

“It already is dear,” you assure him with a smile. “Why don’t you go get some coffee, you look exhausted.”

“Good idea babe,” he says, settling the baby into your arms.

“I could use a cup myself,” Morgan adds.

——————————————————————————

“Derek, I need your help,” Aaron pleads, once out of earshot of the room.

“Of course man, anything you need.”

“We’re going to be in the hospital for about a week while Y/N recovers and I’m desperate to have a nice nursery for her when we get home, but I obviously can’t leave her alone. I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there anything you could do to help?”

“Sure thing man, don’t worry about it. That’s the best gift I could hope to give you.”

“You’re the best,” Aaron replies, slapping him on the shoulder. “Just don’t let Y/N find out, okay? I want it to be a surprise.”

“My lips are sealed,” Derek promises.

——————————————————————————

That afternoon Derek had the whole team assembled in the nursery to get started.

“Alright everyone,” he begins, “We’ve got one week to make this the best surprise gift possible. Let’s make it happen.”

“What color should we paint it?” Penelope inquires.

“Got that covered already,” Derek replies while opening a paint can. “Purple. Hotch said it’s Y/N’s favorite color.”

“Oh Derek, it’s perfect!” she squealed, squeezing him tight. “She’s gonna adore it.”

“While the two of us are painting,” Penny addresses the group, “why don’t the rest of you do some some shopping?”

“Great idea, baby girl.” Morgan chimes in. “I think they’ve got the basics from the baby shower and I saw a crib and changing table in the garage, but I’m sure you guys can find things they’re missing.”

“Oh I think we’ve got this,” JJ states confidently. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she commands, herding Emily, Rossi, and Reid out the door.

When the group arrived back at the Hotchner house several hours later, the nursery walls were covered in a soft shade of lavender; as were Morgan and Garcia.

“I don’t know how you two managed to get any paint on the walls,” JJ said with a grin.

“Smile for the camera, you two,” Emily cuts in, snapping a picture on her phone as the couple hug and smile in their paint splattered clothes.

——————————————————————————

The next day conversation flowed as team was busily assembling furniture. Rossi, Reid, and Morgan worked on the crib while Penny, Emily, and JJ tackled the changing table.

“Let me know if you ladies need any help,” Morgan mentions casually.

“Oh right,” Emily grumbles, “because OBVIOUSLY the women need a big, strong man’s help, right?”

“I didn’t say that,” Derek counters. “I was just offering.”

“Oh not only will we get ours done without your help, we’ll get it done faster,” Emily challenges.

“Oh yeah?”

“YEAH!” all three women reply in unison.

“You’re on,” Morgan accepts.

“Oh you’re so going down,” Penny taunts, throwing pieces of plastic wrapping at Derek.

“Losers buy sushi for lunch?” Rossi suggests.

“Oh that could be pretty expensive for you Dave,” JJ comments. “You sure you’re up for that?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Rossi says, rolling his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Two hours later, as JJ and Emily were finishing up the crib, the men came dragging in, arms full of takeout bags.

“Say cheese!” Penelope squeals as she takes their picture. “For the bragging rights.”

——————————————————————————

The next days were spent putting the finishing touches on the room.

A purple gradient butterfly mobile above the crib from JJ.

A bookshelf with a fully stocked library, specially selected by Reid. Emily places her floral covered photo album on top.

Lavender curtains with a shimmery overlay, Penelope’s contribution.

Derek’s stuffed bunny, carefully laid in a white gliding chair with purple cushions, which was generously paid for by Dave.

Derek lays a soft shag rug over the hardwood floor and drapes a plush floral blanket over the edge of the crib.

“I think that about does it, guys,” he says with a look of pride.

“You know, I bought them that photo album,” Emily comments, “it would be a shame if we didn’t put a few in there as a gift.”

“Yeah, but how do we get a picture of the whole group?” JJ wonders out loud.

“We could set a timer,” Penelope suggests.

“Yeah, but who sets the timer?” Reid asks, as he turns to see the whole group looking at him.

“Seriously guys?”

Between the camera falling over, closed eyes, and Spence not making it back before the timer, it took a few tries before there was a good group shot.

“And now a funny one,” Penny insists.

Once the photos, including the bloopers, have been printed and arranged in the album, JJ makes sure to write descriptions for each in the margins before setting it back on the shelf.

“Good job team,” Derek announces. “Our work here is done.”

——————————————————————————

After all the chaos surrounding the birth and a full week in the hospital, nothing felt better than standing at the door of your house with the love of your life and your two beautiful children.

“You ready to finally get some rest, baby?” Aaron asks as he ushers you inside the house, one solid arm arm around the small of your back and Savannah in her carrier on the other.

“Yeah,” you sigh, dropping your purse on the coffee table and slipping off your shoes. “I just wish we didn’t still have to worry about the nursery,” you groan, plopping down onto the sofa.

“About that,” Aaron says with a mischievous grin, offering you his free hand.

“What are you up to, Aaron Hotchner?” You muse as he leads you down the hallway.

“Just trust me,” he assures, coming to a halt in front of the nursery door. “Close your eyes,” he requests.

“What is going on here?” you inquire again.

“Just close your eyes please, darling,” he asks. “For me.”

“Alright, alright,” you comply, “this better be good.”

“Don’t open them until I say so, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

With eyes closed and Jack close by your side, you hear the door open and the rustling of paper inside the room.

“Alright,” he whispers, sliding his arm around your shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

—————————————————————————

Taglist: @ange-must-die @agent-laufeyson @poetsacademia @hotchners-slut @arganfics @ladyreapermc @rousethemouse @less-intelligent-spencerreid @tgibstan @themanip @word-scribbless @quillvine @glizzieborden @miss-united-ace @samayoshito @hotchnerundercover @pedropascalian @thenewnormalforensicator @crowdedimagines @sagittarianwolf @kleff03

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Coffee | Colson Baker

Warnings? None? I wrote this like ten minutes ago? 

Requested? Nope lmao 

Summary: Colson has been visiting the same coffee shop for years now but suddenly there’s a girl in the corner of the shop that when he sees her sticky noting her book, he’s infatuated from the start. 

Word Count: 1,694

Again idk what this is and I wrote it in like an hour but I wanted to post something so enjoy 

Colson steps into the familiar coffee shop not far from his house in the hills. He was used to this routine, a late night out, too much to drink or too much weed he smoked or whatever vice he chose the night previously and he woke up late the next day. He’d head to his favorite small business coffee shop down the street and order the exact same thing every time. The routine was comfortable. 

However, today as he stood in line waiting to order his black coffee, his eyes spot you sitting in the corner of the cozy shop. You were snuggled into a booth, legs criss-cross underneath you, and a book in your hand. His eyes survey your table to find a large coffee of some sort, your phone, AirPods, a laptop, and small sticky notes. 

He watches as you carefully balance the book on your knee before plucking a bright pink sticky note from the package and sealing it in place of the book before continuing to read. He watched for a bit as you did this ever so often, picking up different colored sticky notes for different things that Colson would never know what they meant. 

“Next!” The barista calls out making Colson break from his concentration on you and move forward. 

The thought was lost on Colson for the rest of the day as he moved onto studio sessions and interviews that had to be covered. That’s until he sees you again. He’s accompanied by Rook, the two craving a bit of coffee and heading out to the local shop for the second time that day. 

As they enter, Colson looks to see if you’re there like you were the previous day. When he spots you, a small smile crawls on his lips. Rook talks next to him, something about the album but Colson is still transfixed on you. 

This time you have your laptop open on the table and your book still propped in your lap. You flip through the pages, fingering the brightly colored tabs until you find the right one and prop the book next to your laptop. As you begin to type, Colson notices the hundreds of little sticky notes popping out of the side of the book. What could you possibly be marking? He wonders to himself. 

He watches as you type, your eyes flicking back and forth from the book to your screen from time to time before you eventually go back to trying to find another page needed for whatever you were typing.

He couldn’t help but notice that you were stunning. Your hair sat in a half-up, half-down style with the front pieces pulled out of your face so you could no doubt read better. Your glasses were perched on your nose, sliding down ever so slightly to expose the most beautiful (e/c) eyes he had ever seen in his entire life. He thought you were gorgeous from head to toe, he just wished he had enough guts to go up and talk to you.

“Are you listening?” Rook asks looking up at his taller friend. 

“Yeah sorry man,” kells responds before turning away from your figure to focus back on his friend. 

The next day, Colson takes his chances again and heads to the coffee shop. He wants to see you again, wants to actually get the courage to go up and talk to you and ask about your book. However, when he gets there, he surveys the tables to see you’re nowhere to be found. 

Sadness fills his chest like a balloon as he orders his coffee and heads back home for the day. He knew he should have manned up and talked to you yesterday or the days before but he didn’t and he didn’t know when he would see you again. 

You burst into your favorite small coffee shop late today. You had slept through your alarm clock and ended up in traffic on the way to your happy place. As you stepped in, you headed straight for the counter, greeting the staff that had started to become like friends to you and they started working on your usual as you paid and left a tip. 

When you get your coffee you head back to your usual booth and set up to work on some school stuff. You had been taking a young adult literature class and the newest novel you were reading was long but super interesting. You had spent hours tabbing the symbolism, the things your professor asked you to look out for as you read the novel, and took notes in the margins. 

It was your favorite thing to do, and one of your favorite hobbies as an English major. Finding the perfect symbolism and picking out the pretty sticky notes to mark the places. You loved looking at the aftermath when you closed your book and saw the tiny papers sticking out of your book. 

However, this morning as you worked through the assigned reading, you became distracted. 

For the past couple of days, you noticed a boy come in, and as you worked, he watched you as you did so. You realized quickly it wasn’t in a creepy way, he was curious by his gaze flickering over your book and the way you typed furiously on your computer. 

You had started to notice him too. He was tall, a fake blonde from the roots that stick out at the top of his shaggy blonde locks. Most would probably be intimidated by him considering he was covered head to toe in tattoos but you were intrigued. You wanted to get closer to him, run your fingers over the ink and ask what they were, what they meant to him. 

He had a frown placed on his lips most of the time, and a nose ring decorates his face reassuring your previous thought that most would be afraid of him. He looked somewhat familiar but you couldn’t place it. 

When he turned towards you though, he had the most stunning blue eyes you had ever seen in your life. Even from across the shop, you could see the ocean eyes shining in the light. You were entranced the minute you saw them and you couldn’t help but want to search them deeper. 

Today, you waited and waited for the tall blonde to enter the coffee place but with no such luck. You assumed he was here earlier and resigned back to your schoolwork. Beyond disappointed you missed him coming into the shop. 

Two days pass before Colson returns to the coffee shop. 

He fought with himself the entire time, thinking it was dumb for liking this girl so much already and having no earthly idea of what her name was. But he was drawn to her in the weirdest way, and just wanted to know what the fuck was up with her book. 

So, he heads out in the morning and as he steps into the nearly empty coffee shop, he sees her. This time, when he walks in they make direct eye contact and she smiles shyly before adverting her gaze back to the book. 

It takes him a second to remember what he’s doing before heading to the counter and ordering his usual. When the familiar drink is slid into his hands, he takes a deep breath before walking towards the girl. He couldn’t go another day without talking to her. 

As he approaches her, he recognizes the same position she always sits in and he bites back a smile. She looks up at him as he stands next to the booth and offers him a wide smile. He’s immediately taken aback at how much prettier she is up close. 

“Uh hi,” he says stumbling on his words and mentally cursing himself for it. 

“Hi,” she says looking at him curiously and it occurs to him he hasn’t had a plan the entire time. 

“Do you mind if I?” Colson gestures to the empty side of the booth and she nods eagerly. 

He takes a seat, pushing his back into the corner of the booth and staring across at the young girl. She smiles again before focusing back on her book and Colson wishes he knew what to say. He’s never been this tongue-tied around someone. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he starts and she looks up. “But why do you do that?” 

“Do what?” She asks tilting her head to the side. 

“Put sticky notes in your book.”

Her face reddens at the accusation and she smiles sheepishly before shrugging. She sets the book on top of the table and he sees there are even little notes in the margin with her perfect handwriting attached. 

“The different color sticky notes represent different topics or symbols I keep track of throughout the book for class.”

She nods towards the little notes covering the pages and Colson’s eyes flicker over them. Even though he doesn’t understand most of what it means he can’t help but think it’s adorable. 

“What does it mean?” 

“Well,” she starts leaning towards him and pointing to a bright pink sticky note on the book. “The pink represents systems of power because it’s the brightest and the strongest. I usually write about in the margins how it relates to the characters and so on.” 

As she talks and explains, flipping through different pages of the book, Colson’s eyes flip between the book and her. Over anything, he had always been attracted to passion the most and that’s what this girl had. He finds himself smiling along with her explanations and nodding. The sticky notes finally make sense. 

“It’s kind of dorky,” she admits pulling the book back but Colson quickly puts a hand over hers. 

“No I think it’s dope,” he says smiling and she practically beams back at him. 

“I’m sorry I’m being rude I never asked your name.”

“Colson,” he states and she nods like she’s committing the name to memory in front of him. 

“(y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet you (y/n),” he says beaming back at her before sipping his black coffee.

[violet-knox]

Snape x professor reader where mc never talks and is shy but it is because she hates the sound of her voice but severus loves it.

Lost Voice

Word Count: 5633

Warnings: Mention of child neglect, invasion of privacy

A/N: This was too cute, I had to make it a one shot. 

For obvious reasons, this has minimal dialogue and is sooooo description heavy but it was a challenge I rather enjoyed and boy was it a real challenge lol in a good way though. So thank you so much for the request anon and I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long, oops.

On and on he went. Black’s ability to drag out a conversation always astounded him every time he was forced to report to the Order at Grimmauld Place, though he supposed if he was an arrogant attention seeking git who was locked up like an animal, forced to play maid with no company, he’d also be desperate to keep his guest as long as possible. But that certainly didn’t give Black the right to waste his time, time he could be spending alone with you rather than listening to a house dog’s whimpering failure to prove himself as the strongest hound in the pack. 

The home of Sirius Black; a shelter for a long line of Slytherins… and one idiotic Gryffindor. The only thing worse than picking this house as headquarters would have been using his own home on Spinner’s End. Thank Merlin it didn’t come to that, otherwise, he’d never get a moment of peace alone with you, especially with that filthy mutt trouncing around, more than likely judging every inch of every wall, sneering about how unfit his home would be for his own delicate taste.  

Resting his chin atop his knuckles, he leaned further into his chair, completely disenchanted by Black’s opinions, beginning to wonder how everyone around the table would respond if he’d pulled out his wand right now and forcefully silenced Black for the good of their eardrums. Most people seemed to actually entertain some of these ridiculous suggestions but as he looked over towards you, he noticed you seemed to share the same disinterest he did and wondered if you’d jump in if he spoke up right now. 

“As delightfully optimistic these opinions of yours are, perhaps the planning of our next steps should be left to those of us who risk their lives out in the real world.” He couldn't help his cocky tone, the smirk that crept through the corners of his mouth, but it was just too rich to see Black get exactly what he deserved, to see all his childhood tormentors get exactly what they deserved. None of them had risen to the top of the Wizarding World as they’d so bluntly proclaimed during their Hogwarts days and all of them had managed, of their own doing, to strip away the one thing every human craved; freedom. 

He looked over to you as soon as he’d made his statement, but as always, rather than speaking your mind, you had your head hung low, your eyes staring down into your lap as your fingers chipped away at the wooden edge of the table. You’d very rarely voice your opinion during these meetings and if you ever did, it was only because the situation endangered him in some way. He’d been asked multiple times to speak to the Dark Lord about what he had planned for the Potter boy and it was only then you’d speak up to mention the dangers of his position. It was only when the other members of the Order so carelessly began speaking of Severus as some disposable pawn that you’d speak, and it was the most he’d ever hear your voice. 

Even within the walls of the home he shared with you, he’d rarely get to hear that soft voice of yours. It was perhaps this very reason he’d grown to cherish every word leaving your lips, committing your tone to memory, unsure of when he’d get the pleasure of hearing it next. You were a good listener and he loved telling you about his day, his love for you blossoming when he’d realized you were the only one he’d grown to trust, the only one he’d confide in. But you’d never returned the favour. You kept your thoughts to yourself, never being on the other end of a rant. It took him an entire year and a half to finally ask about your day. It wasn’t until he'd completely fallen head over heels for you that he’d paid attention and done what he could to provide you with what you’d given him. But you’d shut him down every time he tried, replying with such simple conversation killing words; ‘fine’, ‘good’, ‘nothing interesting’. 

More often than not, you’d both spend the night in silence if he didn’t speak, though he’d never minded it, especially after a long day dealing with Potter and his insufferable friends. You’d show your comfort by cuddling up to him and with an arm around you, you’d both sit in bed reading a book. He found it endearing that you felt cozy enough to drift off to sleep in his arms before he’d even finish the next chapter and he adored it each and every time. 

Though perhaps it was his own fault for the lack of words you spoke when it was often he how’d use up the hours you had at night, venting to you about how intolerable Black was, how tired he was of following orders given by a man he wasn’t sure he trusted anymore, how rough his own life had become after making one stupid mistake fifteen years ago. He’d always be the one bursting into the same outraged rhythm every night after an Order’s meeting and he’d never even stopped to consider how you felt. 

That would change tonight, and he’d be damned if he took another selfish moment of your time whining about the same things over and over again. His eyes ventured to peer at the clock ticking away in the corner of the room, silently begging that small hand to move a little faster and end this misery Dumbledore called a ‘valuable exchange in information’. Fat lot of good these meetings ever did for Severus and clearly the old Wizard didn’t believe his own words, otherwise he’d make more of an effort to actually show up every once in a while. 

Finally, the last of the Order who actually had something meaningful to report had finished speaking. Finally, he could remove himself from this seat. He’d been sitting there, stiff as a rock for so long, he’d begun to think Black had perhaps bewitch the chair to keep him stuck there for the rest of his life, forcing him to live in eternal torture. 

“Will you be staying for dinner, dear?” Molly had approached you immediately after the meeting had come to an end, asking the same question she asked each and every time you came to Grimmauld Place. “I’ve made some of my famous mince pie,” she said proudly. 

You shock your head no as you smiled at her in gratitude. It was kind of her to request your presence, ask you, practically begging you to consider staying for dinner, claiming it be the perfect opportunity to get to know the other members of the Order. But it wasn’t so much befriending the others you’d had a problem with but rather what such a sit down would entail. A social gathering like this one would adequately prompt for questions to be asked and you had no interest in answering any of them no matter what they may be. 

“(Y/N).” You heard the familiar sound of your partner’s voice as he so protectively placed himself directly beside you, a hand going to grab your own. “We should get going.”

You smiled up at him and nodded your head in agreement, melting into the comforting touch of his fingers interlocked with yours. Severus’ existence in your life had been such a blessing, you thanked Merlin every day for him. He was your world and he was the only reason you’d even agreed to come to these order meetings in the first place. Without him, you had no reason to put yourself in such a socially demanding situation which is why you’d never even considered staying for dinner. Sure it may have been a cheap excuse, using Severus’ disinterest in mingling to keep away from joining the others, but if it saved you the embarrassment of having to speak amongst a crowd, everyone in the room hearing more of your voice then absolutely necessary, you’d gladly take it. 

“Sorry Molly,” you said, quickly turning your attention to her. Your voice was so low. It was always so low, but it was especially quiet whenever you were out in public, keeping Severus deprived of the pleasure of listening to that soft tone of yours.

As soon as you turned back around to him, he gripped your hand tighter as he swiftly made his way to the door without the slightest acknowledgement of the others around him. He was eager to leave, to finally have some alone time with you and give you the chance to speak. The second you were out that door, you felt him grab hold of your waist, just as he always did whenever preparing to apparate and within mere moments, you found yourself standing in the dark in your shared home at Spinner’s End. 

“Shall we make dinner?” He asked you, feeling his stomach continuing to growl after he’d gotten a whiff of whatever gourmet meal Molly had prepared. He wondered sometimes if you held it against him for running out of an Order’s meeting as soon as it was adjourned, wanting nothing more than to set the place on fire as he left. You’d never asked to stay for dinner though a little voice in the back of his mind always told him it was simply because you bit your tongue to keep him happy. 

“I want to shower first,” you whispered, leaning up on your toes and giving him a quick peck on the check before taking a small step back, hands running down his shoulders to his chest.  

“Care for some company?” He pulled you in tighter, offering that mischievous smirk of his he knew you loved.  

You smiled back and gently cupped his jaw, loving how forward he was in the privacy of your home knowing he wouldn’t be caught dead even holding your hand out in public. Your thumbs grazed over his cheeks, your touch always instantly soothing him. He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm, pleasantly surprised when he felt your lips pressed against his for a proper kiss this time. He felt his heart flutter as his lips fit so perfectly between yours, slowly following the rhythm you set. The taste of your mouth like Amortentia, your touch was an enchantment to his soul. You were his addiction and he could never get enough. 

You let out the smallest of sighs as you parted, your smile wider than ever as you made your way across the sitting room and through the door that led to the stairs. Severus followed you and watched you head upstairs, knowing you were heading straight for your shared room to strip completely naked and let the water from the showerhead graze your perfect skin. He couldn’t help himself from imagining such a sight when he’d only be one floor below you. 

He heard you open the door to the master bedroom and forcefully detached himself from his thoughts to make his way to the kitchen. He had a lot to do if he was going to prepare a meal fit for the Queen herself, wanting nothing more than the perfect night with you. He wanted to make skipping dinner at Grimmauld Place worthwhile and more than that, he wanted to give you the chance to speak your mind rather than burden you with the task of listening to him ramble the night away again. 

Immediately rummaging through his cabinet's, he gathered the last of the parmesan cheese, just enough for two servings of the souffle he knew you loved. He’d never enjoyed cooking in his youth, finding it a mundane and tedious task, but he’d learned it rather quickly as a boy. At the time, he’d resented the choices his parents had forced on him; scavenge for your own dinner or starve, find your own way back home or freeze through the night, but he couldn’t deny the skills he’d developed from his childhood. The same one’s he used now as a Potion’s Master also gave him the ability to spoil the one person in his life that meant more to him than petty childhood grudges. 

He loved working with you. Starting his morning with you by his side, eating every meal together, ending the day curled up in your lap with a book in hand. He’d loved it since the say you started working at Hogwarts. But the one downfall of living within the great castle was his inability to spoil you. Everything you needed was within your grasp and there was nothing he could offer you a house elf couldn’t fetch. They were amazing at their job and he appreciated the fact he no longer had to cook his own meals but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the pride that came with watching you take a bite into his food and savoring the taste. He wanted that look you gave when you bit into your favorite dish to be for him. He wanted to be the reason for your joy and cooking was always something he knew he excelled at. It was the one thing he felt he could offer to contribute to your happiness. 

He poured the remaining batter into the second dish he’d prepared and suddenly realized the shower hadn’t been running. He’d been so lost in his thoughts, imagining the look on your face when you walked into the kitchen, hair soaking wet, your eyes feasting on the meal he’d prepare that the rest of the world around him had completely faded away, the silence running through the rest of the house passing him without question. Even now as he stood there looking up at the ceiling, just waiting for the familiar sound of steaming water hitting the ceramic of the tub, he felt as though your presence in the house had completely vanished. The panicked feeling of loneliness kicked in and he found himself swiftly walking up those stairs, pausing at the sight of the cracked open door to the master bedroom fearing that if he pushed it open, he’d find you vanished. 

Would you leave a note if you’d finally decided to leave him? Or would you simply disappear without a trace? No evidence left behind, not a single piece of your clothing or your books, your favorite quill to be found. Would today be the day he’d always dreaded? Could you finally have come to your senses and figured out the pain he brought home after a Death Eaters meeting or the morally grey position he’d put himself in unworthy of your company?

He did what he could to push aside the toxic feeling that lay in his chest and slowly peered inside the room with the hope of at least spotting the comb you always left on your nightstand, the one you used to run through his hair when you knew he’d neglected to do so himself. It wasn’t the comb, nor was it the open closet displaying your clothing that caught his eye but the dark figure sitting at the edge of the bed, huddled over a notebook and scribbling away. 

He’d never seen you so concentrated, so eager to write whatever it was running through your mind and he couldn’t help but let his curiosity peek as he watched you from the shadows, careful not to disturb you. He felt at peace watching you write, though the fact you’d never mentioned this hobby of yours to him unhinged him a bit. He’d shared everything with you, from his own scribbles and works to his dark past, why hadn’t you put the same faith in him?

A few moments passed when he saw your shoulders finally relax as you straightened your back, letting out a breath that sounded as though it had been held for hours. You closed your book and put away your quill before reaching for your wand, flicking it to open the trunk hidden in the depths of the closet. You put away the book and Severus heard the faint click of the locks closing shut before the creak of the bathroom door filled the room. He waited for the sound of the shower turning on before quietly sneaking into the room and pulling out his own wand. It took three tries to click open the right lock before he found a stack of notebooks placed neatly in order with their spines facing up. Picking up the rightmost book of the last row, he quickly flipped it open to find you’d almost filled it up with a few pages left blank at the end. 

Diary entries? Had you really spent your time writing out your thoughts when you could have been, should have been, sharing them with him. His curiosity simmered as his disappointment boiled. Did you think he was untrustworthy to hear what you had to say? Is this why you’d always been so quiet around him, taking it out on these diaries instead? He flipped a few pages back and began reading the entry you’d just completed:

Sirius suggested we ambush the Death Eaters at their next raid today and I’m starting to understand why Severus dislikes him so much. He won’t take Severus’ position seriously and refuses to listen to reason. I’m glad Severus spoke up as usual, though I wish his tone was a little more friendly, perhaps then Sirius would take his words to heart...

Everything he’d expected you to have voiced during the meeting you’d written here. Instead of sharing your opinion, you’d kept it to yourself and it saddened him. He knew what it was like to have your voice ripped away, to have others shun your opinion and that was the last thing he wanted for you. But he couldn’t even begin to fathom why you kept such things to yourself. Most of the Order members were welcoming, he knew they'd at least listen and consider your words. He of all people would support you even if no one else did. 

Looking up from your journal, he focussed his senses back to the bathroom door where he heard the shower continue to roar with steam beginning to slip through the crack between the door and the floor. He still had time and many questions that remained unanswered. Hoping for a bit more insight, he closed the book in his hand and swapped it for the top left most journal in the trunk, opening it as soon as he flipped it over. 

He smiled the minute his eyes lay upon the unkempt writing with your familiar curves and flicks hidden within each letter. You must have been quite young when you’d written this, first year at Hogwarts perhaps? Had you really been writing for so long without sharing a mention of it with him?

Mum told me if there’s something I want to share but can’t, I should write it down in this notebook, but sometimes I don’t know what I should write…

You’d scribbled over most of the entries in this journal, hindering them unreadable. It wasn’t until about two thirds of the way into the book he’d found a proper entry with handwriting much more resembling your own. 

I think I’ve finally begun to understand why Mum gave me this journal in my first year. She’s always known me so well, better than myself and I think she knew I couldn’t share any of my thoughts with anyone at school. She was right as always, I just didn’t understand how right she was until today. I’ll be writing in this journal a lot more. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before Mum. You always know what’s best for me…

Severus found himself enticed by your mysterious discovery and began to wonder what it was that had you hoarding dozens of these diaries over all these years. He slowly stepped backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed. He let himself tumble backwards, sitting on the mattress as he flipped to the next page, continuing to read your journal.  

You’d truly stuck to your words, each entry longer than the last, filled with details he’d never heard you speak aloud and before he knew it, he’d reached the end of the journal, summing up the beginning of your fourth year at Hogwarts. He couldn’t stop now, he’d already invested in finding out everything he could about you so his feet lead him back to your trunk and his hands allowed him to pick up as many diaries as he could. Was it his fault a mountain of your own personal thoughts had scattered around him on your shared mattress? Of course not. Who would blame him for wanting to know more about the one person in this world that meant more to him than life itself? Surely not you. 

Professor McGonagall pulled me aside after class today and asked if I’d be interested in mentoring a few of her younger students struggling in Transfigurations. I know I have the skill for it, but I don’t understand why she approached me with how little I speak in class. What would make her think I’d be able to teach another student as she does? I can’t even imagine how much talking that would require. I’d probably irritate her students after hearing my voice and she’d regret ever asking me to tutor them. Then where would that leave me? 

You’d written quite a bit more in your fourth year, filling a journal in its entirety with thoughts of your studies, your peers, your Professors. His favorite thing to read about though was Christmas break. It was the one time in the year you felt safe and it showed. You’d gone home that year, spending your time with the people you felt most comfortable with. You baked cookies with your Mum, bought presents for your parents and sister and spent a lovely evening watching your favorite Christmas movies, one after the other. It had felt so cozy, so happy, Severus only wished he’d experienced it with you. He’d wished he’d noticed you during his years at Hogwarts but most of all, he wished he’d heard of this story from your own lips, listening to that silky voice of yours as those joyful emotions mirrored themselves through your tone. 

I was forced to speak of my future after Hogwarts today and I could not have wished more for absolute isolation than in that moment. I don’t know what I want to do when I graduate, and I feel overwhelmed as if I have to make this completely life changing decision by the end of the day or my world will collapse in on itself. It’s not fair. I want more time to decide. I don’t know what N.E.W.T classes I want to take next year and I sure as hell don’t know what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.  

The more he read, the more he found himself diving further and further into your life, completely and utterly breaking through the walls that used to contain your privacy, now carrying nothing but broken trust and torn up secrets. He’d sped through so many journals, his mind lost to the world outside your life story, he’d completely neglected to realize the shower had stopped running just moments ago.  

He’d only just finished reading about the end of your fifth year when the bathroom door creaked open and his eyes shot up to find you frozen in place with a towel wrapped around yourself and eyes filled with horror. His heart stopped when he saw the terrified look on your face, only now realizing what he’d done by literally spilling your private thoughts all over the floor of the room he’d grown to love because of you. He’d betrayed you and had been caught red handed nonetheless. So much for possessing the stealth of a spy. 

Your chest rose with grief you could only feel from the loss of disloyalty and fell as your trust crumbled to the floor. How could he do such a thing? How could he snoop around your belongings when you’d made it clear your trunk was off limits, that you’d never look through his own things? 

You stared at him with eyes beginning to water, tears filled with every year you’d spent trusting him, threatening to fall and break apart the stable life you’d built together despite the difficulties it brought. You wanted to cry, to storm out the door, to burn all your journals. You wanted him to hurt as you were in this moment watching him look so dumbfounded surrounded by your private thoughts and feelings, some of which you’d never in a million years wish to share with him. Some of which were about him. Had he read the journal filled with nothing but admiration for him when you first met? Had he seen the embarrassing thoughts running through your head when you’d written about the first words he spoke to you? Your first kiss? Your first time?

“But.” His voice had your tears leaking from your eyes, letting out every fear you’d ever accumulated throughout the years spill out onto the floor in front of him. Your lips trembled, waiting for those dreadful words you’d been expecting to hear for a while now slip off his tongue. You waited for him to tell you how happy he was to see you were writing in those books rather than burdening the world with the horrid sound of your voice. But they never came. He simply stood from his place, setting aside the journal he had in his hand and made his way over to you, holding you by your shoulders. 

“I love your voice,” he said softly. The world stopped around you as you peered into his eyes, his thumb swiping across your cheeks, wiping away the tears that tainted the beauty radiating from your soul.

Severus had deceived so many people throughout his lifetime. He’d managed to slip into the ranks of the most dangerous Wizard the world had come to know, but you could always pick his moments of sincerity from his moments of deception. He’d reserved that twinkle in his eyes for you, the way his brows furrowed, begging for his truth to be heard. His lips ever so slightly twitching downwards as if preparing for the disappointment of rejection, all signs you saw as he held you in his arms, looking into your eyes and his honesty had your mind blanking entirely.  

“I-I didn’t mean to look through your things,” he said, knowing he’d not only crossed a line, but had drenched it in gasoline and set it on fire as he continued to walk over it. He’d completely invaded your privacy and was desperate to mend the trust he’d broken, but he more importantly wished you’d never written yourself in such a toxic light. He wanted you to see yourself as the majestic woman you were in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to read your private thoughts, but (Y/N), how can you say these things about yourself? They aren’t true. You have the most entrancing, precious voice I’ve ever heard.”

Nothing would have made you happier than believing the words coming out of his mouth and though you’d never doubt his honesty, you still found yourself holding back. You couldn’t come to terms with the reality he presented; one where that insecurity that held you back all these years was nothing more than an illusion your mind had created. He loved you. He’d spoken those three words more times than you could count, and you’d believed him as his confidence grew with your relationship which was the exact reason why you were hesitant to take his words as the truth. Of course he’d say such lovely things about your voice. He loved you but the rest of the world, they did not. It was the same reason you’d never taken your mother's words seriously when she’d repeated the same thing Severus had just spoken to you. Love was blinding, hiding the truth from those who cared for you most. 

Your eyes dropped down to the ground, feeling a weight of disappointment and disbelief fall on your shoulders. Was it over? Was he stringing you along or was there truth in his words? Would he leave you if you rejected his claim?

Severus felt as though he was losing a battle he didn’t even know he was fighting. He could see your doubt. He could tell you didn’t believe him and he didn’t blame you. There was nothing in this world he understood more than insecurities and he could see that your lack of confidence in your voice had been holding you back for as long as you lived and he wanted nothing more than to break you out of the chains you’d bound yourself in. 

“(Y/N), please believe me when I say this. All these horrible, negative thoughts you're having about yourself, it’s all in your head. No one believes these awful things about you. When I met you, I never once thought your voice to be a burden to my ears. On the contrary, I enjoyed listening to your lectures. I looked forward to finding you in the staff room alone after your morning class. Why do you think I began inviting you to my office when Lockhart showed up?”

He was desperate to gain your belief, to break this wall you’d been building behind his back all these years. He had to keep trying.

“You’d barely say two words in front of anyone else and I felt deprived of the privilege you’d allowed me when you’d began conversing with me. (Y/N), I wanted to hear your voice, I wanted to listen to your thoughts, to know you and to understand you. Even now, I still seek that pleasure… Please. (Y/N).” He whispered the last two words, his worry of losing you hidden behind his tone. His grip on you tightened, wanting to hold you until you’d forgiven him for his invasion, until you agreed to speak to him and let your voice resonate within the comfort of the home you shared. 

You hesitated, wanting to melt into the ground after hearing his plea. He was desperate for your love, he always was. But in this moment, you could see the agony seeping from his soul, screaming for your compassion and devotion. All you’d ever craved was to feel yourself easing off your insecurities, to find someone that loved you for everything you were and know for certain that your voice, that shriveled voice of yours didn’t bother them as it did you. And here he was, by some miracle, in the flesh, offering you exactly what you’d wished for and you wanted to take it, to hold on to him as he was you and never let go. 

This was it, this was what your heart had been waiting for, what your ears had been desperate to hear, what your mind had been craving to confirm; he was your other half and loved you with everything he had (even if his boundary issues were clearly getting a little out of hand). A smile made its way to your lips as your shoulders let go of the weight you’d been carrying all those years. You were free and he was to thank. 

You lunged yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body against his, thankful for everything he’d give you over the years. The support, the comfort he provided, was priceless; something you knew no one else could ever give you. You tightened your grip, one hand losing itself in his hair as your eyes landed on the sight of the scattered bits of your life all over the bed you shared together. You’d really have to work on setting boundaries with him.

“Promise me you’ll try to talk to me more?” He whispered as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist in return. “Just me?” He’d always reveled in your embrace, but this embrace, the grip he had on you, felt different. You trusted him and wanted him in your life despite the mess he’d made with your private thoughts. You’d believed him and Merlin only knew how he’d managed to find the right words to say. 

You broke your embrace and rested your hands on his chest, nodding in agreement only to have Severus shoot you that smirk of his as his brows rose. You chuckled, realizing, you’d already failed at keeping the promise he’d asked of you.

“I promise,” you whispered. 

“I love you so much.” He closed his eyes and met your forehead with his. 

“I love you too.”

You gently pressed your lips against his, instantly warranting you a reaction as he pushed you further into his chest and his lips moved eagerly against yours. You’d never felt as whole as you did now in his arms and finally, finally you’d found your voice again, all thanks to him. 

Parting, you hummed in delight, filling his heart with warmth at the sound of your voice. You’d only spoken six words to him thus far and already he could feel your happiness, your confidence resonating within your tone and he could only dream of the conversations you’d have once the realization of how lovely your voice truly was finally sank in. You were his light, his world, his everything and nothing, not even your insecurities could take that away from him. 

[bonesofapoet]

Blood of the Holy

[matt murdock x you]

author’s note: hey hi hello, if some of you recognize this format + writing style but not the blog, i used to share my work on my main @ladyofstardvst​ and caved on making a writing blog. yall dont need to sift through my non-writing shit just to find my work. i’ve never written for this nerd before but here we are with a study of a sort! be kind! i take requests now! tw for blood, implied violence, swearing

word count: 1894

ao3: here

Most people couldn’t stand the neon in the dark.

It was garishly bright, it was harsh, it was annoying at best. The sign would blink and linger behind your eyelids, stain the shadows in the dark like sunspots, make an impression that washed out the relaxing calm, the blanket of the night.

It keeps most people awake, Matt Murdock explained on that very first night. It doesn’t bother me, obviously. Take the bed. It’s not as noticeable in the bedroom.

But it didn’t bother you either. The contrast caught your eye on the second night; the colors would paint the monochromatic neutral tones of the apartment, how they would mix and melt into the chipped brick walls, the trim, the beams of the ceiling. How if you were in the right place – the right cushion on the couch, far enough back into the kitchen – it looked like a painting come alive right before your eyes. Something that would go on to live in a local indie gallery, something inspired by vaporwave, or whatever they were calling neon nostalgia these days.

Still. Silent. Chiaroscuro. Art in the wild.

It was like clockwork, the blinking. The colors coming and going at the first peek of evening shadow, only to blink right off at the first knock of the sun’s rays on the horizon.

After the third, fourth, tenth, twentieth nights it had become a comfort of sorts, namely for the days Matt Murdock wasn’t there to press you into the wall and kiss you senseless, or weave each other stories under the moonlight with a nest of blankets and concrete beneath you. When he wasn’t there to ghost his fingertips over your skin as you drifted off to sleep, so painfully content that you always wondered if this beautiful man with a devastating secret would be the end of you.

You never knew, but he often asked himself the same thing.

Then there were days that damned neon was the only constant about Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil.

Moments of lovesick peace would only last so long.

Your skin would crawl on the nights sleep wouldn’t come. Mug of tea, coffee, something stronger cradled in your hands while your mind wandered, your feet wandered, your eyes drifted around this space of his, this little hideaway of yours. You would always hear him before you saw him, adrenaline spiked and oh so weary. Some nights he was covered in so much blood you didn’t know where it ended and his own crimson suit began.

“You’re still awake,” he would say, scowl tugging his mouth down, always sounding surprised. As if it was unusual, for you to be restless on the nights he donned devil horns to go hunting.

And you’re still alive, would be your reply.

He would stay close until dawn. You would gravitate toward him just the same, moths to flame, flowers to the sun. Conversations were hazy and hushed in the early morning-late night blur. They walked that fine fragile line between this is not okay, Matt, and you know you can’t shove me away as easily as everyone else, you stubborn ass.

Unspoken vs spoken. Horror vs love.

Clockwork, nonetheless.

Until one day, the clock shattered.

Matt Murdock doesn’t come home.

Then it’s days. Weeks slipped into months. Months slipped into a blend of minutes, moments, denial casually catching hold within as you found yourself still in his apartment – your little hideaway - watching the steady blink blink blink of the neon sign through the dirty, frosted window panes of the kitchen. Then the living room, then the kitchen counter. Cold tea, day old bitter coffee, something stronger untouched and unloved in the mug that hung loosely in your hands.

Those feelings of heartache and unease and an angry I fucking told you so lingered at the back of your mind, the tip of your tongue. The last time you saw him had been reenacted so many times, it began to feel like a dream. A nightmare. The flesh made into ghosts. Phantom lips brushed yours in such a gentle, such an urgent way that your pulse began to spike at the memory. The loss. The longing.

You thought about how you had gotten here, of all places, here – this apartment, this man’s life, both of you entwined with secrets and lies that could end both of you forever-

Everything was safer in the dark. What Matt Murdock hadn’t known – well. That wasn’t how he had met his end, after all.

It was almost too much to think about, on some occasions.

Until one day, when the clock began to tick once more.

You heard him before you saw him, the familiar cadence of his footsteps descended from above. The quiet slide of the roof access door snicked open and closed in the unholy hours of the night, the unholy hours of the morning.

The silence was new, however, and your eyes drifted up to see a shadow at the top of the staircase, frozen and tense and so very familiar.

“You’re still awake,” he said, and the tears were suddenly there; the ones that could never come, the ones that never seemed to leave. They were present, and the noise that left your throat wasn’t coherent, wasn’t normal, but a strangled laugh escaped your lips anyway.

“You’re still alive,” you replied. If not for the routine, your answer wouldn’t have been so intelligible. “You’re alive.” came the raspy whisper.

His silhouette nodded, began to limp down the stairs into the apartment proper. Began to finish his long journey back to you, back to everything, really. The mug in your hands was no more – placed safely, if not hastily – on the table, and you met him halfway.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quiet and so very hesitant as he clawed off the scarf covering his eyes. “I’m alive.”

There’s the hint of a smile that catches in the neon blink, one that you dreamt of sometimes, on the long nights. Shared breaths, lovesick grins, stray tears being gently brushed away followed in a fog, in a rush, in slow motion that threatened to dismantle so many things about his time away.

And then -

“Where the fuck have you been?”

He’s holding your waist, fingertips splayed, grip firm if only to convince himself that finally – finally, he’s here, you’re here, you're together. Your own hands slid to his shoulders, but you stepped back to keep him a few inches away.

Your gaze was hot and strong and analytical – Matt could feel your eyes as they saw bruised skin, torn clothes, battered, bloody knuckles. He’s been in worse shape, both you and he knew that, but he also knew he was no drawing, no painting, nothing close to a work of art worthy of a museum either. There were bloody, violent masterpieces under guard at the Louvre more worthy than he.

Had he asked you, you would have disagreed.

He can’t see the sorrow drowning the color of your eyes or the way softness carved a home on your expression, carefully melting away the tension, the anger, the fear. He can’t see you, but he does and even after all this time he still knew how to read the air around your mood shifts and the lilt of your voice. Still knew that after all he’s put you through – he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, Atlas freed at last.

He may have lost touch with many things, many people, but not once had he ever lost you.

“I’m sorry,” he began, emotion becoming thicker in his voice with every breath, every word that tumbled past his lips. It had always unsettled him, how you could unearth what he tried to hide, tried to bury.

Moths to flame, flowers to the sun.

He condensed the happenings since the building collapse after his stint with the Defenders, his words spilling out quick and quiet, rushed and worried.

But if he hadn’t finished what he started, what was he doing here? What was he doing with you? Why now?

“Let me – let me get this straight. Were you going to let us think you died, until – when? You got your shit together? Killed Fisk?” his fingers tightened where they held you, unseeing eyes wandered anywhere and everywhere except right in front of him, right on you. You knew that look. Your voice softened. “Or were you just going to disappear? Like this meant nothing – like this means nothing? And as grateful as I am that you are – why are you here, Matt?”

He shook his head, ignored the cracks that broke open his heart like dropped glass. Your name spilled from his lips like a holy hymn that golden haloed angels could never hope to sing. No one could recreate the most divine sound in all of creation. Matt Murdock would always swear you were a goddess incarnate, no matter how sinfully blasphemous it was. “You mean everything.” he pulled you into him, moved so his face was close to yours.

“It’s not that simple,” he said after, and you deflated in an instant. The amount of times a variation of this conversation had been voiced between you – you would never know. It was like a renegade wildfire: possible to lessen, impossible to tame.

It was as quick as the changing of the seasons, how he took on the urgency you’ve only witnessed a handful of times - when he allowed you in the presence of Daredevil himself. You remembered what he asked of you lifetimes ago, between hushed words and bloody gauze, hands slick with red and a needle poised between your fingertips. How if danger ever came to your door, you would listen and you would trust, and you would let him do whatever it took to keep you safe.

To keep you both safe, you tried to correct. He would nod, and you would ignore that he never agreed to such a thing.

“We need to go,” was all he said, but you knew. You remembered.

The strongest jolt of fear slammed into you, bleeding a black and white, us and them mentality. It threatened to smother the blinking neon, the bright washes of blue and white felt muted, felt so very distant when you realized that someone was coming here, someone figured it out, figured it all out.

Oh.

That wasn’t the answer you hoped for.

Us vs them.

“So it’s finally happening.”

Matt’s hands fell away from you, one slid to twine your hands together and squeezed. He was solid, he was grounding. You looked into his eyes. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” he took his free hand, lifted it to brush your cheek with tattered knuckles, bruises blossomed like night blooming flowers. He left a trail of soft burning flames when he traced a path down to your jaw where he stopped and cupped your face ever so gently. “That’s the one promise I knew I’d never break.”

Fear melted away when you closed the distance to kiss him, felt that heavy soul twine with yours; all was suddenly right with the world for the first time in a long time, even if the anguish of this city was about to come crashing down on your shoulders all over again. It tore at your heart, this kiss, because it was so very reminiscent of the first time he ever kissed you. Bright eyes, flushed faces, the thrill of something new ignited all around you. The future painted with vivid neon instead of muted pastels. It felt bittersweet, and you knew down in the marrow of your bones that this could very well be the last thing you would ever share with Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips. “I trust you.”

Once those words were in the open, there was no going back.

Your secret could wait.

[rebel-without-cause-x]

She tried to kill me last week!

Prompt: " What do you mean she's my new partner? She tried to kill me last week!" "Sounds like a you problem."

Adam Ruzek x reader

RUZEK MASTERLIST

“What do you mean she's my new partner?" Adam moaned "Come on boss you have got to be kidding me"

"Nope final decision, you and (Y/L/N) are partners" Hank said sternly "you got a problem?"

"Yes I do" he huffed "She tried to kill me last week!"

"Sounds like a you problem Ruzek" Hank smirked before walking off.

Adam turned to me with a face of thunder "this is your fault (Y/L/N)"

"My fault" you scoffed.

"You tried to kill me, with a carving knife" he spat.

"Because you randomly walked into MY apartment with no warning at all whilst I was in my pissing underwear" you snapped "so yes I did try and kill you"

"Whoa girl what set was it" Erin smirked winking at me.

"Does it matter" you laughed.

"Yes it does" she laughed.

"Red and black lace"

"Damn girl, you look good in that set" she winked walking off.

"Now enough talk of me in my underwear" you laughed shaking my head. "Come on partner we have work to do"

———

Flopping on the sofa with a beer in hand.

“So why do you wind him up so much?” Erin laughed as she brought the pizza in.

“It’s fun” You shrugged “and he is easy to wind up”

“So when he saw you in your underwear what was his reaction?” She asked sitting down.

“Urm he tripped over his own feet and face planted the floor” I laughed “it was priceless it was like he never saw a woman in underwear before”

“So how do you feel about going undercover tomorrow?”

“Meh I know it’s not real but it just hits home you know” you sighed.

“You are the best person for the job” she whispered “we will be there with you every step”

———

Standing in the locker room looking in the mirror. You knew this was just to get the bad guy but right now it was like the clock had turned back and you hated it.

“(Y/L/N) you ready” Adam’s voice bellowed through the locker room.

“Yes, no, I don’t know” you sighed

“It’s gonna be ok, if things get too much you know your safe word” he whispered

“Yeah so let’s get this show on the road” you mumbled walking passed him. “Adam just cover my ass”

“Covered” he whispered.

———

“She was so worked up in the locker room” Adam sighed.

“I’m not surprised, she hasn’t been back in this work for a number of years” Erin sighed.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“She hasn’t had the best run in life, that’s all I’m going to say but she is the best person for this job” Erin half smiled turning back to the screen.

As Adam watched the screen he saw how you took control of the room, it was like looking at a completely different person.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, he wanted nothing more than to get to know you better, all he knew you as was an officer.

“She is going to need someone after tonight so just be there for her Ruzek” Erin said placing a hand on his shoulder. “She’s going to safeword soon”

“How can you tell?” He asked.

“Because she keeps playing with the hem of her skirt and her eyes keep glazing over” she sighed “she’s having flash backs”

“Why don’t we head somewhere private and I can give you a private photoshoot” (Y/N) said seductively.

“Roll out guys” hanks voice came through the radio.

———

“Hey come here” Adam whispered as he draped his jacket over your shoulders.

Slipping your arms into the sleeves and pulling the jacket around your body, hiding the outfit that made me feel ashamed.

“(Y/L/N) great work out there” Hank nodded.

You really didn’t want to speak so you just nodded.

“I’ve got some spare clothes in my trunk if you want to get changed” Adam whispered

“Thank you” You mumbled as he led you to his truck.

Once you got changed you had to laugh at your reflection, Adam’s clothes buried you but it was better than your first outfit.

———

“You’ve been pretty quite since we got back” Adam said pulling you into his arms.

“Yeah” you mumbled “just memories I tried to forget, but I guess you can’t run from your past”

“Is this why you push people away?” He asked.

“Yeah I just find it hard to trust people you sighed “but with you I dunno it’s easy and I think that’s why I try to get on your nerves because it’s easier to try and make you hate me”

“(Y/N) I could never hate you” he whispered.

“What was all that stuff about me being your partner?” You huffed.

“Two can play the teasing game you know” he chuckled.

“Adam ruzek you dick” you laughed swatting his chest.

“So shall we stop trying to make us hate each other and” you whispered you hadn’t been this vulnerable in a while.

“And what?” He asked raising his eyebrow.

“And I think you are hot”

“Oh really” he smirked. “Well I think you are the strongest most beautiful women I have ever met”

“What you saying ruzek?” You asked lifting you head off his shoulder.

“I’m saying I want to give us a shot, since the day you walked into the district you captured me in ways I never knew possible”

[dear-wormwoods]

may I ask for a style fanfic rec list? 🥺🥺🥺

I have a couple of requests for this and I’ve been thinking about how to respond, because to be honest, I very rarely read fic these days. And by ‘these days’ I mean like, since 2014. I always have things I intend to read, but then time goes by and I don’t get around to it. So nothing I’m going to rec is new and you’ve probably already read them fkjds.

Anyway, sorry to be predictable by just being like “read Hollycomb’s fics” but...

The Scenic Route - 116k words, should be rated E for the final two chapters (I literally have no idea why it’s rated T on AO3, it was definitely M when I first read it on ff.net years ago)

Summary: The boys embark on a six day road trip to California before separating for college. Cartman is a pain in the ass, Kenny has no future, Butters is in crisis, and Kyle doesn't know how he'll say goodbye to Stan.

Why you should read it: The yearning. This fic is written entirely in Kyle’s POV, and Holly does such a brilliant job of getting into his head and really capturing that feeling of already mourning a friendship/relationship before it’s even over and kind of intentionally setting the bridge on fire to make what is (seemingly) inevitable hurry along, as if that will make it hurt less (it doesn’t). The first six chapters, the actual road trip portion of the fic (where the T rating actually does apply), are where it is at its strongest, and Kyle’s gradual descent into panicky, angry desperation is painfully real. I can’t stress enough how in character everyone is, each retaining recognizable mannerisms and dynamics from canon while still clearly being grown people entering adulthood. There’s a reason this fic is THE Style fic. 

Leave the Pieces - 251k words, rated E (though that rating only represents a small portion of such a long fic)

Summary: Stan and Kyle meet as strangers in their mid-twenties, shocked to encounter someone else who can't remember the first ten years of his life. They form an instant connection, but only one person in South Park remembers them, and Kenny can't explain why they disappeared or why the rest of the town forgot them.

Why you should read it: It’s a lengthy epic with supernatural elements, a complicated plot that fits right into the show’s universe, and the kind of love that quite literally transcends time, space, and memory. I can’t explain it much further without giving away the plot, but this behemoth is gut wrenching and powerful. It is equal parts a story about Stan and Kyle finding each other as adults and falling in love despite not remembering who they are, or each other, and a deep exploration into Kenny’s character and his curse. Kenny is really the MVP of the story, despite it initially seeming like “just” a Style fic, and his relationship with Wendy is written beautifully and convincingly. One caveat, though: some parts of this fic... I’m not a fan of. I greatly dislike Cartman/Butters just as a concept, and there were times, particularly in the first half of the fic, where I almost quit reading because of their scenes. I also feel like this fic fell victim to fandom’s earlier tendency to mischaracterize Craig as borderline sociopathic (but in contrast, he’s absolutely perfect in Holly’s oneshot Other People’s Tupperware). However, I’m such a sucker for supernatural memory loss not being able to sever soul connections, and Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Wendy’s respective journeys more than make up for my reluctance to stomach Cartman/Butters or other comparatively minor issues. And honestly, everything does fall into place as the plot unfolds, so all I can say is... if you hit certain scenes and think ‘wtf IS this??’, just stick it out, the payoff is worth it, especially if you’re looking for high quality Kenny content.

Amalgamation - 78k words, rated T (but should be rated M imo, because there are sex scenes, though they aren’t very explicit, just intimate)

Summary: In 1862, Kyle's family is forced to move from New York to a tiny mining settlement at the foot of Pike's Peak in Colorado. Kyle is sixteen years old and miserable until he meets Stan, a fellow transplant who has been in town for three years. Their feelings for each other are shadowed by the town's haunted history, and for Kyle the local legends begin to feel more like real nightmares.

Why you should read it: I know ‘1860′s gold mining settlement AU’ doesn’t sound very fascinating, but it is. This is another one that’s written in Kyle’s POV and again Holly does a wonderful job of expressing his emotional turmoil, the guilt and shame he feels, his self-righteousness, and the depth of his love for Stan. Everyone is as they would be if the clock was turned back 150 years, made different by the time period and the demands of their circumstances but still obviously recognizable. The old-timey atmosphere and world-building are so seamless and never feels unrelatable. There are also supernatural/ghost/mystery themes in this one and the fear is palpable.

From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell - 170k words, rated E, includes major character death (aside from Kenny)

Summary: Ten years after the execution of Terrance and Phillip, the war with Canada has not ended. Stan and most of Kyle's friends are planning to join the army after high school graduation, bound to be drafted anyway. Kyle doesn't believe in the war, but he's not willing to let Stan go without him.

Why you should read it: This is.... a perfect fic, and I don’t say that lightly. It is quite possibly the ONLY perfect fic I have ever read, in any fandom. I can’t actually describe all the ways in which it’s perfect without giving the plot details away, but, God, if you commit to reading just one of the long-ass fics I’m reccing on this list, make it this one. Please. It honestly makes me mad that this one never got the same attention as like, The Scenic Route, or ‘Night School’ did, because it so deserves to be up there. Only Holly could take the concept of the fucking movie and turn it into a completely devastating, bittersweet, epic romance. There is no caveat here, no ‘I loved it except for this and this’, just thorough, soul-crushing perfection. Just... Kyle. God, Kyle. I can’t elaborate, my heart isn’t up to the task. This fic will haunt me for the rest of my life.

The Ascent of Stan - 32k words, rated E, though it is like 95% domestic fluff

Summary: Stan sells his small pest control company and Kyle thinks they should use some of the money to go to Hawaii, where he proceeds to grill Stan about the mid-life crisis that Stan claims he's not having while their kids frolic nearby.

Why you should read it: This one is everything a domestic fic should be. It basically just chronicles the events of a week-long vacation to Hawaii that nearly-40 Stan and Kyle take with their two kids. This one is written fully in Stan’s POV and it works so well... he’s exactly the kind of dad that I imagine he would be, doing his best to provide for and protect his family’s little bubble and resolving to be better than his father while quietly fighting the lingering shadow of his alcoholism and cynicism. There’s no real conflict in this one, just 30,000 words of a very typical family vacation: not exactly blissful, irritating at times, but ultimately the foundation for perfect memories. 

Never Change - 115k words, rated E

Summary: Thirteen years after his high school girlfriend's pregnancy upended his life, Stan is still in South Park, working with his partner Bebe as a local cop. They're in the process of investigating a series of possibly connected murders when FBI agent Kyle Broflovski returns to town and informs his old friend Stan that this is his investigation now.

Why you should read it: This is equal parts a murder mystery and a romance. It features exactly the kind of Stan/Kyle situation I hate to think about - a decade-long estrangement of their own making that comes to an abrupt end due to extenuating circumstances. It hurts because of how likely it is to happen that way, and it works especially well in this fic because of Stan’s reluctance to embrace his own bisexuality until he’s nearly 30 and Kyle’s tendency to put up walls to protect himself. Also, Bebe features prominently in this fic, which is always a huge bonus.  

Bonus Oneshot Rec:

The Reformation of Fart Boy - 7k words, unrated but probably T, just barely

Summary: Five times South Park has brought Kyle to the brink of sanity and Stan has brought him back.

Why you should read it: I love thinking about the ways in which canon-typical nonsense continues to impact the characters in the long term on a serious psychological level. Kyle has suffered a lot in canon and it’s obvious even in the show that it is gradually changing him and wearing him down, so I really love this fic for focusing on his responses to some of the more traumatic moments, as seen through Stan’s eyes. 

I feel sort of guilty only reccing one author for right now, because there are other fics out there that I liked and am planning on revisiting, but this post is long enough as it is. Chances are you’ve already read some or all of these, but they’re my favorites. I reread all of them while making this list, and they still hit me hard after all these years. 

[aj-writes-here]

Remember I posted a tease about a series I wanted to work in? Well, being here 01:19am, Ifinished the first chapter! Hope you find in interesting :)

Predestination [Chapter 1]

Today was a year since the day you had arrived at that weird place. And in one year, you were able to become a fully functional soldier, being one of the strongest in the group, and certainly no one could believe how you managed to become Squad Leader in such a little amount of time. Well, you should blame your previous training. Or the pieces of knowledge that it left you, even the muscular memory. 

But wait a second.

How did all of this happen? A short flashback should help set things clearer. 

Working as a teacher, training every day next to your boyfriend and best friend, and hanging out with your brainy friends seemed to be the perfect match, as if things were predestinated to occur the way they did. That day things were weird, to start with, the window was blowing cold in the hottest day of the year, there were no birds on the sky, and not a single mail notification on your phone.

Things then started as they should, you kiss your boyfriend goodbye and left, heading straight to your job. The day was quiet, the students of your last class had an exam to do, but in the middle of the time given, a bunch of birds crashed on the big windows, catching everyone's attention. As if things couldn't go weird enough. The classroom was evacuated to a safer one, and the examed was postponed to the next week. Things felt weird, as an incomplete puzzle, that hint in your heart was screaming something at you but you couldn't tell what it was. Were you going to be robbed? Crashed by a car? It was hard to tell, but thanks to those feelings you decided it was better to keep an eye open to everything, be more cautious than the usual was not a bad thing.

After leaving college, Matt texted you he had a free hour to have lunch, and as a police Sergeant, those free hours were once in a blue moon. 

The lunch went as usual, with the small difference that a waitress spilled a glass of water over your clothes, are weird things going to keep happening? You asked to yourself.

Oh, believe. The worst was yet to come. 

''So, are we going to Kara's house tonight?'' Matt asked walking by your side.

''Sure! We haven't seen her in a while, besides, I feel bad'' You gave him a look with pouted eyes.

''May I ask why, love?''

''I tumbled her down with just a kick while we were sparring! She said her butt hurt for like a week'' You couldn't help but laugh at the memory, Matt imitating your actions.

''God yes! I remember that!'' he cleaned a happy tear ''But that only proves that you're good at it, babe'' He pressed a kiss on the top of your head easily.

''I think I will buy her some chocolates for tonight'' You said in between laughs again, stopping at the street where your paths separate. But that day? Those paths were going to be separated for more than they should. Or shouldn't they?

''That's a good idea,'' he smiled ''We can go to the market before her house tonight'' Matt looked at his clock and then at you ''Shit, I'm almost late. Gotta go, see you tonight babe,'' He laid a hand on your shoulder and left a soft kiss on your lips ''Love you.''

''Love you too'' You answered, the smile never leaving your face. ''You handsome!'' Matt looked back over his shoulder just to send you a flying kiss, waving his hand, loosing among the people.

So, you had left your job earlier, had lunch with your boyfriend, at it was barely two pm. You didn't go to your apartment, avoiding that tiny voice in your head that told you you should. Instead, that day you decided to pay a visit to the lab your other friends worked at. 

The lab was big, outside big letters were eye-catching. Just as a tech and bio company should be, always looking for different ways of improving mankind. You were known almost by the entire building, so the secretary just let you in. 

There they were, looking tired but excited as usual. 

''We're so close'' Lauren pointed out giving you a tight hug before asking how things were going.

''Yes! We haven't run any test yet, but if this thing works... We will change history.'' Paul looked almost scared, looking at the device on the white table.

''I would ask you how you did it, but I'm pretty sure the only word I'd understand is 'proton', and that's it'' You laughed.

''It is complicated, yes. But as we have tested with small objects, those complex terms had seemed to work.'' He scratched his head.

''That's true. The other day we were able to move a grape. Now we just add some other things to increase the power, we need to try with something bigger.'' 

They were working on how to transport atoms, concrete things. The grape experiment had worked, they were able to make it crossed the room when they activated the small machine. As you spoke, the rest of the team kept on running tests on other things, creating, innovating.

And then what was not supposed to happen, happened.

The building was shaking, was it an earthquake? You could look outside the window, people walking normally, so it wasn't an earthquake. A red light indicated the state of emergency, and the security team was running as fast as possible to get to the floor you and your friends were at. The birds crashed on the windows again, and thanks to the shock you fell to the floor, the tiny little machine your friends were working on started vibrating, and they recognized the blue light it emitted, the same light that appeared when the grape was moved. 

Fear was on everyone's faces, a loud metallic noise was filling the room, and you tried to cover your head from the pieces of the roof that were falling, but then, the box fell from the table and it hit your shoulder.

And then everything was silent.

When you opened your eyes, you were in some sort of cage, a tall blond man looking at you seriously, next to him a four eyed woman who looked more excited. 

Erwin and Hanji. Those were their names.

''Oi, you idiot'' His voice took you out of those memories, so you looked at him instead of you tea cup.

''Don't you have someone else to bother, Levi?'' You raised an eyebrow. It is true, your personality had changed after living in that new but old world.

''Tch, I've been talking to you for about a minute'' His voice was rough as usual. ''Then all of you ask me why I don't speak. It looks that everyone has water instead of fucking brains.

''Then tell me what do you want before I leave'' You stood up, ignoring the rest of his words, in the end, the tea was already cold.

''I was telling you that you should go to bed. Your face looks shittier than the normal.''

''Yeah, I'm aware of it. Thanks for the reminder.''

Your relationship with Levi was... Stressful. You couldn't stand each other, yet you always ended up talking. And throwing shit at each other. Still, you always found yourself near him, because of training, missions, paperwork, or more. The first time you met him he had been rough, not even caring about why were you dressing so differently or where you were from. You didn't join the army, the Survey Corps noticed your abilities in fighting, and surprisingly you were almost natural with the ODM. And besides, how were they going to explain that you were from another era? Another world? You were good in what they needed, so in a little amount of time you got your uniform. Almost against your will, but if that meant that you had food and a roof to sleep under, you were good. With time, Levi asked subtle questions, it was hard to believe everything that you had told him. How the hell was even possible? You couldn't even answer. And the truth was, that you didn't care about giving him explanations, he was an idiot. 

After a year of living inside the walls, being part of the SC thanks your skills, you were still trying to find ways to go back home. How could you pass from being a History and Literature teacher, from being a soldier that was fighting to protect humanity? 

But destiny worked in complex ways, and you could have never imagined that the last thing you were going to want, was going back home. 

[paradamaxima]

3, 9, 11, 12, 15, 16, 26, 39, 40 & 46 for Keegan! 💕

Thank you!! ❤️

3. How tall is your OC?

5 foot 5! They’re in a good middle ground

9. What does your OC’s bedroom look like?  His/her living area?

Keegan’s rooms, regardless of where they are, are always really neat, cleaned, and organized with nothing out of their places They only have the essentials; a bed, a place to store clothes (dresser/closet/both), an alarm clock, etc. Keegan’s not exactly a neat freak or anything, they just know what is and isn’t necessary

11. What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother?

Zhanat was really close with their mother, Aliya Erzhanova, for their entire childhood and adulthood up until she was KIA. During the first few years of their childhood, her mother was an industrial/factory worker and she was at work quite a bit, but she always made time for Zhanat After Aliya enlisted in the Armed Forces in 1942 as a result of the impending fear of the war, 4 year old Zhanat was left in the care of their aunt and uncle, but Aliya had regularly scheduled leaves so she could see her child When the aftermath of the war came in 1945, Aliya had become, in a sense, paranoid and attached to the possibility of the Soviet Union weakening. She’d met another officer during her time in service who relayed his concerns onto her and he successfully became acquainted with her, as well as other officers, and they all agreed with his beliefs. Zhanat grew up learning this information as well, when they were old enough to understand such things and the collective fear only brought them and their mother closer

12. What is your OC’s relationship with his/her father?

Zhanat’s father wasn’t in the picture; all they knew was that he walked out on the two of them before their birth and he wasn’t worth talking about (no conspiracy theories tho lmao)

15. What was your OC’s childhood like?

Zhanat was born in Alma-Ata (now Almaty), Kazakhstan, where her mother Aliya was also born and lived her whole life, in 1938. Soon after, Aliya moved up to Leningrad to find better work and to live close to Aliya’s brother and sister-in-law. As mentioned, Aliya always made any time for Zhanat and it was enough for them to have a great relationship and Zhanat had a fairly normal childhood thanks to this As also mentioned, Zhanat was left in the care of their aunt and uncle when Aliya enlisted in the Armed Forces, but their aunt and uncle raised them well and they loved them as if they were their own child. When Zhanat started school, they were usually the ones to make sure they got to school on time, they did their homework, etc. After Aliya returned for longer, their life was no different, but now Aliya had a new mindset and her paranoia scared Zhanat into believing everything as well. At this point, Zhanat was still young but it continued on until they were a teen and Zhanat became just as paranoid as their mother and this inspired them to enlist in the Soviet Armed Forces in 1956 after they turned 18

16. What is your OC’s strongest childhood memory? Why and how as that impacted him/her?

The strongest memory would be the day that their mother Aliya sat them down and explained what she’d heard from that officer during her time in service. They were in their early pre-teens at the time and they were told war stories, but not much else. Seeing their mother crumble at the thought of the country falling apart tore into them and they complied with their mother’s wish for them to join the Armed Forces when they were old enough and then to join the Perseus network with her someday

26. Why does your OC and his/her soulmate work so well together?

Keegan’s soulmate was Perseus himself; as Zhanat, they were almost inseparable and that was because they both shared the same extremist beliefs about the Soviet Union being overtaken by the West, to the same level as well

39. How does your OC handle anger?

Keegan doesn’t get angry very often and when they do (especially when everything was revealed), they’re still fairly calm and collected and don’t let their emotions get the better of them

Zhanat was essentially the opposite, but not quite; they had a little bit more of a temper and would be very defensive and salty

40. How does your OC handle grief?

It kinda ties into anger; Keegan still remained quite calm at the loss of their previous life and memories, despite the sadness eating them up inside Zhanat was also the opposite: after their mother was KIA and they received the news, they were inconsolable and convinced nothing was worth doing, at least until they were offered by Perseus himself to join their collective

46. If your OC has them, what are some regrets s/he has?

Keegan regrets being so close to Adler during their time with the crew because they caught a lot of feelings and it strained everything, as it does After everything was revealed, they had a lot to say about him but they didn’t tell him if they still loved him or not

[the-gedonelune-times]

Chapter Nine: Betrayal.

Summary: Gedonelune, the prestigious royal magic academy is waiting just for you! The door has opened a whole new world of possibilities for your future. For the next thirteen days you’ll be undergoing the provisional trial to see if you have what it takes to become an official student. Along the way you’ll be meeting new faces and going on exciting new adventures. But be warned, shadows are being cast on the land, if you dive to deep, you may find yourself being swallowed up by the chaos. Your journey begins now, will you be able to banish the darkness?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

“No.” I firmly shook my head as I took a step forward, only backing away when I saw her take a step back. “I’m not afraid of you, Lily, nor would I ever hurt you.”

“The humans were not scared of me either, but they must have been. Why did they take my life? Why am I even alive here right now? Do...I deserve to live?”

“I don’t know, Lily and I’m afraid I don’t have the answers. But there’s one thing I do know: You deserve a second chance.”

“W-What?”

“You deserve to live the life that was taken from you, are you really going to just toss that away now?!”

“I…” Lily bit down on her lip as she shook her head. “N-No, I-I want to live, I want to experience everything life has to offer! I want to be with the humans I care so deeply about.” 

As Lily broke down, I moved closer to hold her, gently ruffling her hair as I tried to calm her down. As time passed, Lily began to regain her composure and the two of us took a much-needed rest. I had discovered that my peram had managed to survive the fall into the water, so we each were able to snack on our food before setting up camp in the room we were locked in at the moment. 

“Do you think there’s a way out of this room?”

“There is. I managed to regain some of my memories which included the layout of the Ark. We fell in near the very end of one section, ironically near where the Crystal itself was stored.”

“Wait, so there’s multiple sections to the Ark?”

Lily nodded. “Yeah, the whole thing practically covers the entirety of this land.”

“S-Seriously?!”

“We saw the same visions, right? This land used to belong to my clan.”

“All of it?”

“Yes, back before it was named, the Land of Solomon was nothing more than a vast land inhabited by the Zirnitra.”

Zirnitra...where have I heard that...wait..!

“You mean the extinct species?!” I practically jumped to my feet in surprise.

“That’s the one.”

“That’s..incredible! This means that the Zirnitra tribe isn’t truly extinct and now with your memories back we can-”

“I’m afraid we need to slow down for a second.” Lily spoke calmly before taking a sip of her water. “I’m not sure about being a dragon anymore. My power has been sealed and I still don’t have all my memories. There are still many pieces that have not been restored. We can’t start getting ahead of ourselves just yet. The first thing we need to do is get out of this section, which I admit, I’ve been holding off on doing because of something I remembered.”

“Just hearing you say that means that something bad is waiting for us, isn’t there?”

“W-Well...m-maybe? You see, to make sure we weren’t attacked by any of the other dragon clans, we developed a very special beast. A living….golem, if you will. Of course, I’m not sure if they’ll even be up and running about considering the magic used by my species is gone. However, if they *are* still up and running, we’ll be in some serious trouble…”

“Right….” I sighed. “You don’t have your magic and my wand is nothing more than wood chippings.”

“Can you still walk alright?” Lily asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“That leaves us with running as our only option then.” Lily smiled as she got up and helped me to my own feet. “But you know, there’s always a chance it might turn out to be one of the homing areas.”

“Homing areas?”

“Mhm. We had a lot of rooms built here for not only our species but for others, including humans as well. There’s a chance one might still be around here. Hopefully, the amenities here still work.” Lily said while putting a hand to her chin. “This place was definitely meant to last, but…”

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out. Let’s count our lucky stars and hope that we end up hitting a homing area instead of a golem party.”

Lily giggled softly before leading the way over to the crystal. The minute she held out her hand, the crystal reacted, opening up like a blooming flower before releasing a bright light that unlocked a secret door disguised as the wall itself. Dust began to surround the area as it opened revealing a completely dark room when it had settled down. I held my breath as we walked into the room together. As we did we heard a loud noise as the door behind us shut, somehow how giving way to the once dark room to light up with floating orbs of flames. I could practically feel the relief wash over my body like a cool breeze when I saw a bed in front of me.

“This is a homing unit right?”

“Yep!” Lily spun around as she looked over the room. “Ah, it feels so nostalgic being in here.” 

“You slept here? Didn’t you have a castle or something that you lived in?”

“I did, but I preferred to be closer to my people so I could watch over and protect them. They were almost like...my children. I wanted to make sure they were safe, so when I was able to, I would stay down here in the Ark with them. I remember long sleepless nights when I would be on guard or when I would try to help get the children to fall asleep. The lost children from the Kamuy clan were always the worst when it came to them falling asleep.” Lilly laughed as she recalled memories from her past.

“You know, there’s something I recall seeing when I was taken to the past. About another clan of dragon and about the children having to get used to their new surroundings. Were they not allowed back home?”

Lily sighed as she took a seat on one of the beds. “Many of the children that got lost while travelling with their other clan, were returned safely back to their families. Except for the Illuyankas clan. They were the most ruthless and hostile out of the four of us. We knew that any child that was returned back to them would be mistreated and more than likely removed from the family altogether. When he heard about this, we decided to give the children a new loving place to call home here, even if it meant going to war with the other clan.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It was. Luckily for us though the other clans were just as welcoming as we were. The Kamuy, Vouivre, and Amphisbaena clans would also help house lost children and anyone in general just as we did. They all came off as intimidating and more often than not would end up scaring the humans of that age away, though it was unintentional.”

“You...didn’t have a war though with the other clan, right?”

“No, and even if we had, we would have won. Though our species was known to be the most gentle out of the rest, we were also the strongest. Our magical power was seen as something divine, but that’s exactly what aided in our downfall. You could be the nicest person in the world, but the minute it’s known you have a great deal of power, someone out there will want to cause you harm. I think maybe that’s why the humans did what they did to us. It wasn’t because they hated us, but rather...they feared us. Maybe they thought we would one day turn on them. Fear sometimes takes over rationality...that’s why I...I have no ill feelings towards the humans for what they did. They were merely human, that’s why I still continue to love them and have a need to protect them.”

“Lily…”

“Anyways, I think it’s time we rested up a little bit, don’t you? It’s been hours since we arrived here in the Ark and you must be exhausted.”

“That might be true but what about-”

“If you’re worried about making it back in time, then don’t worry.” Lily smiled. “I promised you I’d get you back to the academy before your judgment and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“What about your friends?” I asked.

Lily flinched a little, her expression changing to a sad one. “That’s another thing I remembered…”

“What is it?”

“I don’t...I don’t know how to break it.”

“Wait, what do you mean you don’t know how? What about the flowers?”

“Those are a common flower that only blooms here in the Land of Solomon, there’s nothing special about their healing effects.”

“....and the crystal?”

“That crystal was used for nothing more than to harbor one of the three ancient types of magic. It was the only one that was able to control the magic without shattering it. It can’t grant wishes or even heal anyone for that matter.”

“So then this trip…”

“Yeah, what you said to me back in the flower field...I’ve been thinking about it a lot and you might be right. This might have been a set up all along but..”

“You don’t want to believe that Beckford might be behind it, do you.”

Lily nodded sadly. “I need to talk to him about it, I mean, maybe this was all coincidental. But even so...I can’t deny that something isn’t up. Plus, Beckford might be my only chance in helping me wake them up, it’s why I’m so desperate to keep moving forward until we can escape, but at the same time I know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I keep doing that then the one I lo-...I mean….you might push yourself past your breaking point and I can’t watch you do that to yourself.”

“What about you? Surely you must be a little bit tired from all of this.”

“Maybe a little. Most of the tiredness I’m feeling might not be coming from physical exertion though.” Lily sighed before giving me a sweet smile. “But that’s enough about this.”

With a small yawn, Lily got herself comfortable in the bed next to mine; falling asleep within mere minutes. My mind had kept me up for a while before I could even fall into my own slumber. 

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

I wasn’t sure how long it was that I had been asleep for, there were no clocks for me to look at, nor was there any way of seeing what time of day it was since we were underground. I was beginning to feel a little panicked until I noticed that Lily was still fast asleep. In one of our conversations about sleep schedules, Lily had mentioned she only needs a couple of hours of sleep. So perhaps I had only been sleeping for a short while, it sure felt like it since my body felt heavy and my mind was sluggish. 

I was about to turn onto my other side when I noticed something was holding my hand in place, preventing me from moving. As I looked down, I noticed that Lily’s hand was holding my own. My cheeks began to burn as I gave her hand a small squeeze. My loving gaze on her sleeping face turned to surprise when I saw her eyes slowly flutter open. A sleepy smile graced her face as she looked at me and then at our hands….

She immediately apologized before pulling her hand away from mine before getting up. She offered to check the bathroom and see if there was some clean water that we could use to clean ourselves with. Funnily enough, Lily remembered that there was an underwater spring right under the Ark and managed to find an old pump that was used to draw clean water from it. We each took one of the bathrooms got cleaned, changed, and even had a snack before leaving the area. 

We embarked on the next part of our journey and had managed to cross multiple more areas until we were standing in front of a large stone archway. Inside was a dimly lit area where multiple large stone statues surrounded each side, each one bearing a weapon of some sort. 

“Lily, what is this place?”

“Hm, this must be one of the last rooms here in the Ark. You can tell by all the golem guards surrounding the area. Normally they would be on patrol, but as I mentioned before, there’s no magic keeping them alive. This room must have been their resting area that they were sent to during the day. If we keep going a little farther we should reach an exit leading to the ground above.”

“I’m afraid this is as far as you two will be going though.”

That voice…

“Beckford!” 

Walking into the middle of the room was none other than Beckford. Unlike before, there was no hint of kindness whatsoever. As he stepped closer to us, Lily moved over to shield me.

“You’re pretty stupid, you know that? You have no magic but you’re acting like you can protect this person.”

“Why are you here?”

“To finish the job that was given to me. Things could have been wrapped up a lot sooner you know.” Beckford scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” I sent a glare in his direction as I spoke.

“Tsk. Let me shed a little light on your situation, after all, consider this a gift to me before you take your last breath.” Beckford had a malicious smile on his face as he walked around us. “You see, a while back there was news, a rumor that a stranger had appeared in the town. This person was completely shrouded in mystery, no one had seen them with their own eyes. One thing they knew was that great magical energy had appeared right when the stranger did. You can imagine the desperation in people who sought out just a single glimpse of this stranger. Can you take a wild guess on who that stranger was?”

Beckford asked before standing right in front of Lily, sending a bone-chilling glare her way.

Lily said nothing, going completely silent while looking at the ground.

“That’s right, it was you, Lily. You were the one who woke up in the forest. I couldn’t believe the magical energy that I felt the day you first stepped foot in my store. I knew right away that you weren’t human.” Beckford laughed. “The best part was that you had no memory, no recollection of the things that took place before you had even arrived here. This played out rather in our favor. This meant you also had no control over your magic, no knowledge of all the things you were capable of doing. However...this didn’t mean you weren’t labeled as a threat. Because of this, I had planned to eliminate you much, much earlier than this. Sadly the first attempt didn’t work, though I will say that was a bold move going and throwing yourself in front of my Chimera like that.”

“Chimera…? You mean...the thing that attacked Felix and I that day was sent out by you?”

“Correct. That my dear was the first attempt, the second attempt didn’t go as planned, but it did lead to a chance to have you right where we want you.”

“Second...attempt..?” Lily’s hands were shaking now and I wasn’t sure if it was out of sadness or anger.

“I knew it!” I stepped out from behind Lily and shouted. “I knew you had something to do with the incident in the village. The fact that you had all those unopened letters from Lily meant that you were already at or near the scene. “

“What?! Beckford, how could you do this! I thought we were friends, I thought I could trust you!”

“You and I, friends? Don’t make me laugh. You were merely a pawn in our little game. You’ve evaded us for so long, but now the end has come for you.”

“Well done, Fenrir.” A new voice had entered the conversation as they strode into the room; it belonged to a man with midnight-blue hair.

“Adonis..”

“Who’s this?” 

“I’m the one who’s here to oversee that you meet your end here in this Ark. Now, your highness, prove that you’re strong enough to die by my hands and join your people once more.”

The man gave a sinister smirk before snapping his fingers, disappearing in a smoke of dark miasma. Fenrir stood before us, in his hand he brought out a small object and smashed it the ground, causing a summoning circle to appear on the ground in front of them. With a mighty roar, a chimera was summoned, tendrils of darkness danced at their feet; this chimera was clearly one subjected to the darkness.

The final battle….was about to begin….

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

Nadia: This is it...the final battle is about to commence. Truths will be revealed and questions that have been left unanswered will finally be answered.

Persephone: The darkness is spreading...ready to swallow up everything in its path.

Nadia: Can they beat it?

Persephone: Or will they fall prey to it?

Both: Be ready for the final chapter: ‘The Queen Awakens!’

[vincent-frankenstein]

17 - 'This is going to hurt.' with logicality,,,,, please,,,,,

Title: Safe

Summary: The subconscious is a dangerous place — and Logan has been in there for a week.

Pairing: logicality

Warnings: near-”death”, angst with a happy ending

Almost a week had passed since Logan had ventured into the subconscious.

Patton believed in him, of course he did! Logan was more than capable of getting in and out of the subconscious. But... the subconscious could be a weird place. A dangerous place. It could take even the strongest side and twist him, change him, reduce him back to his base functions without any personality left over. He shouldn't be worried; Logan would be fine. Besides, Logan wouldn't want him to destroy himself over it, right?

... but he was worried, darn it! He couldn't help it! One of the most important people in the world had just disappeared into the most dangerous place in the mindscape and he hadn't been seen in almost a week. Patton thought he was at least allowed to worry a bit by this point. At least he wasn't destroying himself over it. It wasn't like he was staying up every night outside the door to the subconscious, praying for Logan's safe return!

Distantly, the clock chimed three A.M., and Patton shifted on his spot on the floor, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders. Okay, so maybe he was, but did it matter? He was way too worried to sleep anyway! When Logan came back, he'd get plenty of rest to make up for it.

If Logan comes back, said a terrible voice in his head, and he shook his head, his hair flopping down into his face. No, nope, he was not going to start thinking like that! Logan was coming back. He had to —

"Pat?"

The sudden voice made him jump. Roman stood at the end of the hallway, eyes bleary with sleep and eyebrows furrowed with worry. "Why're you still up?" he asked, yawning.

"I —" Patton bit his lip. "I'm waiting for Logan."

"Oh, Patton," Roman sighed, face flooded with sympathy. He strode over and slid down the wall beside him, wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders. "You need to sleep, Padre. Logan wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."

"But what if he needs help when he comes back?" Patton asked, leaning into Roman's touch tiredly.

"If he needs help, we shall provide it. But I doubt you'll be much help if you don't get some rest," Roman said pointedly. "Logan's always going on about 'sleep schedules' and 'circadian rhythm' and all that nerdy junk, you —"

"Roman?" Patton said quietly, his voice more exhausted than he could ever cover up. "What if... he doesn't come back?"

"He will," Roman said, so fierce, so sure. "He will. And if he doesn't, I shall march into the subconscious myself to slay whatever is keeping him! And then I shall kick his ass for making you worry!"

Patton giggled. "Language, Roman," he said, hiding his tired laughter behind his hand.

"Come on, Padre," Roman said, standing and offering Patton his hand. "Let's get you to bed."

He slept, at least, which was better than nothing — but it was a fitful sleep, broken by nightmares. By six he gave up and, wrapped in a blanket still, headed downstairs to start breakfast.

He turned down the hallway and froze. There was a body lying on the carpet just outside the door to the subconscious — a familiar body, drained of color —

A cry tore from his lips and he fell to his knees at Logan's side, shaking him. "Logan!" he cried, tears springing to his eyes. Logan didn't move, barely even breathed, his face black-and-white and completely blank. Patton's worst fears had come true: the subconscious had drained him. If he woke up like this — if, if, the worst word in the world — he'd be back to his base traits, back to Logic.

And the love they'd built? It would vanish.

A heartbroken sob tore from Patton's throat as he held Logan close. There had to be a way to fix this, to bring back Logan. He just had to think —

His eyes widened as an idea struck, and he gathered Logan into his arms, swaying under his weight. He hefted him back into his room and set him gently on the floor, leaned up against his bedframe. He'd never done this before — but it had to be possible, right? His room held domain over all of Thomas' memories — all of their memories. If he could just transfer them...

He took a deep, shaking breath, and focused. Memories jumped to attention in his mind immediately and instead of letting them slip past, he grabbed them, held onto them, harnessed their power. Their first kiss, up on the roof beneath billions of stars; their first date, curled up in Logan's bed, reading together; dancing in the kitchen in the early morning in socks and pajamas. He gathered every hint of love he could find, every moment of happiness, and shoved their power into his hands.

Blinding blue light began to crackle in his palms. He closed his hands into fists and the light spread all across his hands, lightning-bolts of blue dancing along his skin. He could do this. He had to do this.

"This is going to hurt," he said, his voice trembling and broken. He leaned forward and held his hands to the sides of Logan's head, closed his eyes — and pushed.

The light flared, so brightly and so powerfully that Patton couldn't even see Logan anymore. Shadows danced across his wall and blue sparks flew through the air. He pushed every memory he could think of through his hands: the day they learned Virgil's name, the day they all cooked Crofter's cookies together, accomplishments and arguments and everything in between. Pain wracked up his arms in agonizing bolts but he stayed strong, and though his hands shook they never fell.

And then the light faded. Patton collapsed backward, panting heavily as he shook the energy from his hands. Logan slumped forward and he caught him just in time.

"Lo?" he asked, his voice breaking. Logan didn't respond. His color had returned. Why wasn't he waking up? "Logan, please, please," Patton pleaded, a sob breaking in his chest.

He held Logan to his chest as tears began to run down his cheeks. "Wake up," he whispered. "P-Please wake up, I — I can't do this without you."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to Logan's, clutching him tightly. Unnoticed, a tiny blue spark passed between their foreheads as they touched. He pulled away from Logan's unmoving form and pulled him into a hug, knotting his fingers in the fabric of Logan's shirt. "Please," he breathed.

And Logan groaned.

"...why does it feel as though Roman ran me through the head with his sword?" he asked slowly, his voice halting and unsure. Patton dropped him in shock, a gasp flying from his lips, and Logan's eyes widened. "Patton? Why are you crying? What happened?"

Patton cried out in joy and tackled him, hugging him tighter than he ever had before. "You're okay!" he screamed. "You're okay! You're okay!"

"Ah —!" Logan wheezed. "Yes! I'm okay! I also cannot breathe!"

"Oh! Sorry." Patton released his grip, but only a little. Logan would be lucky if he stopped hugging him within the next week. "I thought you were — you were all black and white and — but you're here! You're okay!"

"I..." Logan trailed off. Realization dawned on his face. "I was in the subconscious. Patton, you... you saved my life?"

His arms tightened around Patton. He was trembling. "I thought I'd never see you again," he said, his voice rawer than Patton had ever heard before.

"Me too," Patton breathed, happy tears flooding down his face. They pulled apart and Patton reached up to cradle the sides of Logan's face. Logan ran his thumb across Patton's cheek, wiping away the tears. "I love you," Patton whispered, relief crashing down on him in an overwhelming wave. It was over. They were okay.

"I love you too."

[bellamioneandotherscribbles]

Bellamione; Corpse Bride AU 

We are weaned from our timidity In the flush of love’s light We dare be brave And suddenly we see That love costs all we are And will ever be Yet it is only love Which sets us free.

~Maya Angelou

Once upon a time,

There was a young girl, so bright both in intelligence and kindness, that she illuminated every room that she entered. Casting it in shining beams of golden light. But underneath the surface of charm and delight was someone who had suffered through loss and grief their entire life. Every day, the enchanting witch struggled to grapple with why she was even bothering to get out of bed that morning. When she had so few left whom she could trust. Confide in. Those left, who she feigned the best of interest were only her friends when she was useful, helpful, kind. But outside of their adventures, they were embarrassed to be seen with her. Sitting at the end of the breakfast table. When she did try to speak, she was often talked over by someone more outspoken. She knew that if she were to disappear that nobody would notice.

Nobody except maybe her professors. Who constantly would shower her with praise and approval at her unbelievable gifts. Her insights and incredible work-ethic. The way that she applied herself to her studies, and took to each subject with the goal of having total mastery. She was a prodigy. And it was what she lived for every day, to learn and to use what she studied to benefit her fellow witches and wizards. To hopefully someday, save their lives.

But again, that little voice in the back of her mind would snide. What was the point? It wasn’t like it really mattered in the end. She did not matter.

Summer vacations were the most difficult time of year, as the busy shuffle, non-stop animation of school life was brought to a stagnating halt. Silence. The lively sounds to nothing but her distant relatives stepping on the creaky hardwood floor below her.  

She indulged in her studies as much as possible but there was only so much she could fill her mind with before her concentration would waver. And she was left to be maddened by the slow tick tock of the clock. Minutes felt like hours. And days felt like years. There was no escape.

One afternoon, she relinquished herself from the home that had become her prison. Going by train to a cemetery that was overcast with dark skies. But she found the shadows that loomed over her to be actually good company. As opposed to a threatening presence in the back of her aching heart.

After spending a good hour, crying albeit softly in front of her parent’s memorial. She began to walk the grounds. A humid summer. Dark clouds created a most pleasant mist all around. A fog almost. Across a clearing, away from the cemetery there was a rotting chain link fence where from behind wild, feral dogs barked madly. Their growls, barks carried through the field of dead. Sounding like a melody to Hermione’s ears.

Walking upward to a tall hill that overlooked the entire cemetery. There at the center was a large black olive that had arms which outstretched into the clouds. Weary from her hour long commute there and then hours of walking, she sat and resting at the foot of the tree. Breathing in the air of death and nature with a sigh of relief. The grass heavy with the smell of cold rain. 

When she saw out of the corner of her eye, an outline of a figure. Causing her to jump back. Before standing on shaking legs again to investigate. Circling the tree until the skinny shadow of a person came into full view. They weren’t dead, for the gentle rise and fall of their chest. But their blue skin and their ribcage protruding through their chest showed that they weren’t alive either.

Her petal pink lips parted at the sight of them. Despite having no life, no pull to this earth, she felt the strongest gravitation toward this woman. With their long tresses of ebony curls, eyelashes that fluttered against her sharp cheekbones. She wore a white satin gown that had long since gone tattered and gray. The once voluminous skirts beginning to tear from it’s seams. A veil worn in her hair that had grown cobwebs pinned by wilted, black roses.

As if sensing her presence, the woman lifted her head and opened her eyes that were opaque. Her endless black orbs staring into their golden-speckled brown ones for a small eternity.

“Who are you?” The goddess of the non-living finally asked. The bride to Hades. Persephone.

“My name is Hermione, and you?”

“Bellatrix, Bellatrix Black.” They said with an aristocratic tilt of their head, before extending their skeletal hand out to shake their warm one.

“A pleasure” Hermione said with a genuine smile. “Mind if I sit beside you?” She asked.

Bellatrix shrugged. “I don’t see why not. But surely you don’t want to spend all day in a creepy place like this?”

“You would be surprised.”

They fell into a companionable silence until Hermione finally asked. “So… why are you here? Instead of you know…”

“In Hell?”

“Yeah…”

“I’m waiting for my groom to show up.”

“I’m sorry?” Hermione asked, taken aback. For some reason feeling a pang of disappointment.

“I’ve been waiting for my beloved, to-be husband for over seventy years. I stayed waiting at the church hill over there. Rain, snow. He told me to wait. Promised me that he would show up. Not to stray elsewhere, that he would be there.”

If Hermione didn’t know better, she’d think those were tears accenting her voice. Maybe she was crying. Maybe she couldn’t because she was dead. Hermione didn’t know. But she still reached to affectionately hold their hand, although she didn’t reject the touch, Bellatrix scoffed.

“I’m not looking for pity. He’ll show up, he said that he would.”

Hermione didn’t say anything to that, just continued to hold their hand until the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. As the young witch got up to leave, she saw the woman’s lifeless eyes take an even more haunted look. Accentuated by the darkening surroundings.

“I’ll come back.”

“Okay.”

Hermione could have sworn she saw them smile. But it might have just been a trick of the moonlight.

--------

The young witch continued to visit the forgotten bride nearly every day of Summer. Forgoing eating, studying, every aspect of living apart from sleep and continuing to love this woman. They talked about anything and everything, they read books together. And shared dark secrets that would never leave from under the black olive tree where they were shared.

Still Hermione longed for the day that Bellatrix would finally recognize her undying love for them. How she’d been completely enamored with her, body and soul since the day she laid eyes on them. That she would follow her into hell if she asked. She would burn a thousand times, just to have this ethereal goddess by her side.

Of course, she knew full and well that this day may never arrive.

The bride had devoted herself to the heartless fiancé, who stole her heart and never returned it. He took advantage of her, took her soul and laid her body bare to a starving death. Hermione would never understand it, ever. How you could knowingly hurt someone, intentionally. Watch as you break them apart and tear at the very seams that are holding their fragile body together. How you can watch them sob and beg for relief that only you can provide. Only to laugh and snide at their pathetic cries.

But oh, what Hermione would give to have her accept her love. They would embrace, touch hands in the most magical and electrifying of way. They would kiss each other, the taste of their cold lips against her own. She would kiss them as if their mouths were of tea and wine and she was a woman of unquenchable thirst drinking from them with unheeded affections. They would make love, passionate and all-consuming as the fires of hell themselves. And then lay intertwined under the cool of night.

As days went on however, as she laid beside the ebony-haired woman, so close yet so far. She became too weak to even imagine such things. How could she for as long as she had denied herself food. Her pale flesh was as ghostly as the whites of her eyes. The shadowed divots of her ribs and collarbones. Soon made her look not much more alive than the woman beside her. She felt like fine china, a simple rattle away from shattering beneath Bellatrix’s uncertain touch.

Soon the fallen angels laid dead, side by side. Each dying only to be with the love of their life. A burning, all-consuming desire that fueled the bride but now a corpse. Still ethereal and divine. Who lost their fight and will to survive.   A desperate longing that would never be satisfied. Choosing to love is a most certain death, but without it, you will never even survive the night.  

“Because more than God himself; I love his fair angels” ~Marina Tsevetaeva 

[mz-hide]

Trick of Might - Chapter 11

Aka: a Dragon Ball Z slash fic.

Chapter 11

A little breather from the smutfest with some plot in which Piccolo may or may not be onto something and Bulma is a barely-managing adult.

(Warning: contains a lil spicy VegeBul moment)

Summary: An ancient enemy makes a sudden comeback into Goku’s life. Long-suppressed memories surface again and it’s no longer possible for the young saiyan to ignore them. Warnings: Dubious Consent, (because of drug use) Ships & Pairings: Bulma/Vegeta, Goku/Vegeta, Goku/Turles, Goku/Turles/Vegeta, Turles/Vegeta, Raditz/Turles, Nappa/Turles, Nappa/Raditz/Turles Contains: Threesome - M/M/M, Group Sex, Polyamory, Aphrodisiacs, Secret Crush, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Love Triangles, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Gay Sex, Biting, Scratching, Boners All Around, Feral Behavior, (just a tiny bit), Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content

You can find the rest on my AO3 page (username: originalmonkeyhydes)

It wasn’t as if Piccolo was truly intimidated by his former enemy’s wife. Chi Chi was strong for sure, but not in comparison to a Namekian warrior. He had no real reason to fear her. Even so, he found himself flying off in the direction opposite to the Son family’s house. Bulma had made a lot of sense when she’d suggested that bringing back the news of her husband’s disappearance and her precious child’s unconscious body in the dead of the night was something she might not have taken easily. And a Namekian’s hearing was very sharp, their ears very sensitive. Piccolo didn’t need to risk making an attempt to know it wouldn’t have been a good idea. Instead, he flew to a place of peace and quite, where he could watch over Gohan while waiting for him to regain consciousness. The air was still quite warm in the wastelands. A spot on the soft, tender summer grass would have made a fine enough place for his pupil to sleep for the night. He’d been used to it during the year Piccolo had spent training him, after all. Sure, in the morning the woman would have been furious, waking up to find both her kid and her husband gone without a word or warning. But if he’d waited for the sunrise, Gohan would have been conscious again and Piccolo would not have been there to hear it when he made it back home to explain the situation. The green-skinned warrior flew at a leisure pace, constantly, mildly aware of the monstrous energy radiating from afar. Cell’s energy was still obnoxiously foreboding even at such a great distance. The bug-like android made no effort to conceal his outstanding aura. So far he’d kept his word and let time fly by without causing any more panic. The world was already shaking with the danger of the upcoming tournament that would have decided its fate. Cell would be the type for self-complacency. Piccolo could believe he would truly just sit the entire month out without even making a move to re-assert his undisputed superiority or train. He seemed to believe he didn’t need to. And, of course, he was right. Even so, the constant presence of his aura at the corners of his conscience was making Piccolo beyond uneasy. What if that monster gets bored and decides to make a move while Goku is gone? Who’s going to face him then? As much as irks me to admit it, even having Vegeta around would come in handy right now. With those two idiots gone, there’s only so much the rest of us can do. We can still count on Trunks, but… He looked at the boy in his arms and felt a familiar uneasiness take hold of him. Gohan had grown strong. He had to remind himself the boy was now stronger than him. If he was stronger than Cell, that he didn’t know. Goku was keeping the details of their father-son training to himself, leaving Piccolo and all the others in the dark. If he were a betting man, he would wager the saiyan had done that not to give his friends too high hopes. Part of him wanted to trust the man’s secrecy, part of him couldn’t help but doubt him. Goku was a capable fighter, maybe the only hope they had to save the planet from the new menace. Piccolo had grown to know and respect him over the years, he’d grown to care for his son too, so much that their unlikely new-found friendship had eclipsed his ancient unconditional hatred. But how was he supposed to trust Goku now? The saiyan had just disapeared on them without saying a word. But even that would have been fine, if the distraction hadn’t kept him off planet for so long. This is the kind of reckless behavior that almost got him killed on Namek. He can’t afford to keep behaving like this when he has the fate of the world on his shoulders, he moped, gently landing on a plateau of his liking, laying Gohan down on the soft, fragrant grass. The rock still retained a faint trace of the scorching direct sunlight it had absorbed during the day and let out a pleasant glowing warmth. Even at that height, the temperature was still pleasant and the rock formation shielded them from the strongest gusts of the desert winds. Nevertheless, the Namekian took off his heavy clock and set it over the sleeping boy’s body to shield him from the chill of the night breeze. He sat down next to his pupil and let his eyes roam the landscape, absorbed in meditation. A slight frown creased his forehead upon noticing a familiar disruption of the otherwise harmonious skyline. There was an unnatural void where once had been plateaus and mountains, as if the land had been swept clean. A lot had happened since then and he hadn’t ventured to that place, but Piccolo still remembered where he’d died. He hand’t been alive to see the mountains crumble and rock turn to dust to know that was the destruction brought about by Goku and Vegeta’s first fight. Another wave of fretting irritation washed over him. Goku’s night escapade had been just the cherry on top of a cake of foreboding signs he’d elected to overlook. Lately, the man’s behavior had been debatable, to say the least. Since Trunks had showed up to warn them about the androids, something had changed. Initially he’d seemed to take the threat seriously. He’d trained diligently, pushing Gohan as hard as he would push himself. Piccolo had found his intensity fitting for the occasion. He could have almost sworn Goku had started being considerate, possibly for the first time in his life. He had suggested not to use the dragon balls to resolve the problem, so that Vegeta would have a reason not to antagonize them anymore. That had felt like a smart idea. Piccolo saw it as the next best option to fix the mistake of leaving the other saiyan alive. He hadn’t noticed that Goku was actually just being reckless. He had forgotten to take his medicine. He had forgotten his own life was at risk. And then, even after Vegeta had proven himself unworthy of trust, he’d kept spurring him on, going to the length of telling him about the hyperbolic time chamber. All the conniving, the teasing, the flaunting and the unexplained secrecy… Piccolo was starting to think it had all been a just a game between the two saiyans. And he sure as hell did not like that thought one bit. He lifted his eyes to the sky, brooding. Now that those two had gone and took to space together, he didn’t know what to think. Especially since the faint, ominous energy orbiting about the solar system hadn’t waned nor spiked since. Knowing Vegeta, there was a good chance he was going to take the occasion to test his power and stroke his ego. Knowing Goku, there was no way he would have turned down a challenge if the Prince had presented him with one. That was the whole reason he’d spared him, even after he’d threatened to destroy his planet and kill his son. Piccolo retroactively cringed in indignation at the thought. Saying he disliked Vegeta was saying very little. Though he’d grown to understand and respect Goku, first as a worthy opponent and then as something akin to a friend, when it came to his decision to spare Vegeta, he had very little trust in his judgment. And he was starting to have little trust in his own. He’d just let the saiyan go. He’d just knowingly let the proud, overconfident, delusional Prince of saiyans get to something that could potentially make him a serious threat again. If Goku had been wrong and the tree had produced fruits, Piccolo wasn’t sure Vegeta wouldn’t have consumed one and took the chance to take his nemesis out once and for all. He would have done it, even if it had meant he would be dooming Earth to certain destruction. He had a spaceship, after all, he could decided to leave everything behind him, if he wished to. Why wouldn’t he, after all? The Prince had put the whole planet in danger before. He was the one responsible for Cell’s final form. He was the one who’d allowed him to transform. His arrogance was what had doomed them all. But, more than that, it had been Goku’s fault. He was the one who’d pushed them all down that dangerous slope the moment he’d decided not to use the dragon balls. He’d wanted it all. And he’d wanted all that, he’d put himself and all his friends though it all just to keep Vegeta on the planet. But does Vegeta even care for that? No. All he cares about is to become stronger than Goku so that he can have his rematch and beat him. And he doesn’t plan to show the same mercy Goku has showed him. If he wins, it’s the end. All he wants is to beat Goku. So, why waste the chance, when he has a way to become stronger than him right in front of him, ripe for the plucking? He gritted his teeth. One would think that, after all the training they’ve been through and ascending beyond the level of a super saiyan, it would be impossible not to feel it if those two were to fight. I can’t sense anything like that. If they’re not fighting, then… what are they both doing up there? Gohan mumbled slightly in his sleep, turning to the side. His serene sleeping face was a nice distraction from his disturbing trail of thoughts. The Namekian put his worries aside, focusing instead on keeping watch over his pupil.

Her entire body was flaring with anger. Her stupid experiment wasn’t going well, sitting in the lab had been infuriating. Once frustration had gotten to her, her hands had started shaking, her mind had stopped reasoning but she’d refused to stop. And then the damn thing had decided to explode right in her face. She was lucky she had been wearing a mask of she would have lost an eye. Or set fire to her hair. Not that it would have been exceedingly regrettable, considering it probably look awful anyway. Bulma had been feeling uncharacteristically ugly for a while. She felt swollen and possibly constipated. Her clothes seemed to fit too tight and her skin and hair seemed to be more greasy than usual, no matter what she did. When she wasn’t chewing a gum, she gnawed at her nails. And to top it all off, there was a warm, tight, stirring coil in the pit of her stomach that just wouldn’t leave her alone. After handling the rest of her day so poorly, deciding to resolve that particular issue was probably a bad idea. But she felt too pent up to care. “My room. 10 minutes”, she demanded through the intercom. The holographic screens were probably showing a face as inviting as her tone. It was a good thing Vegeta was facing in the other direction, one hand behind his back and one on the floor, pushing his weight up with seeming difficulty. Droplets of sweat ran down his sides and fell to the floor as if they’re been made of led. Gravity in the chamber must have been impossibly intense. “Not now, woman, I’m training.” Not a tone she was willing to listen to right now. “I was working the other day but I had to drop everything and indulge you when you came looking for me, didn’t I?”, she insisted, defiantly. “You liked it.” Arrogant asshole. “You’ll like it too. Now get over here.” “I told you, I’m training. I don’t have time for your stupid whims.” “If you don’t come now, I’ll turn the gravity chamber off. You know I can do it.” “You wouldn’t dare-“ Bulma shut the communication off, abruptly. She wasn’t having any of Vegeta’s attitude that day. She accessed her remote control panel and shut the power down. It wasn’t long before she heard the Prince’s heavy steps as he stormed to her room. When he got in, he was fuming as she was. He hadn’t bothered washing sweat off his face and chest, nor putting clothes on. He was still wearing a pair of training shorts and the scent of exertion. To Bulma’s satisfaction, he also wore a look of astounded surprise the moment he saw her, already naked and confrontational, arms on her hips and head held high in a defiant pose. He staggered. A hint of color showed on his cheeks, and not from anger, this time. Good. “I warned you.” The saiyan glared at her, nostrils twitching. She could read tension everywhere in the stiffness of his body and a conflicting glimmer of interest in his dark, flashing eyes. By that time she’d had plenty of fights with Vegeta to know what kind of emotions confrontation stirred up within him. She could tell when she had already won. “Dammit, woman! Do you need it that badly?!”, he growled. “You’re lucky I didn’t increase gravity enough to crush you instead of turning it off”, she uttered, drily, pursing her lips. “If you play nice you might be able to convince me to turn it back on.” But of course, Vegeta wasn’t going to play nice. He picked her up -not as girls dream to be picked up by their knights, but like a potato sack, flung over his shoulder- and threw her onto bed. Her head spun, but she didn’t complain. The rough treatment was just what she needed right in that moment. Her legs were spread open before she knew it and her breath grew hoarse when the saiyan’s hand started touching in between them. “You really needed this, didn’t you?”, the Prince asked, cruelly, as she bucked against his palm. “That’s what I call you up here for, isn’t it?” The scientist whined when warm, calloused digits flicked along her lips, finding the abundant wetness that had bloomed within. She didn’t need much more touching and teasing before she was ready to accept them inside. Her hips tilted and her thighs twitched, feeling them curl against her walls, making her gasp. Vegeta compensated for the compliance of one of his hands with the other, pinching one of her nipples, hard enough to sting. She squealed and slapped him. Her palm throbbed from the hash blow, he’d barely budged. There was a smirk on his face when he pinned both her hands over her head. She didn’t fight against his hold. But she did press a knee against his crotch and cherished the spangled grunt that earned her when she increased the pressure. “You are being bitchier than usual today. And not in an attractive way”, the saiyan hissed, his voice deep and raucous. “But it’s working, isn’t it?” She could feel him swelling against the rubbing of her thigh. “It won’t work forever.” “I beg to differ. You love being kicked around.” “Not as much as you love playing with fire. What exactly do you think will happen if you keep riling me up like this?” “How else can I get your attention, when you keep avoiding me?” “I avoid you because I can tell you’re hormonal. You’re insufferable!” “Then maybe I will stop taking the pill, you asshole! How does that sound?”, she said, surprising herself. The Prince understood well what protections were for but he hadn’t been too enthusiastic about using them. He’d agreed to get tested for any possible alien disease he might have had. After the results had been happily inconclusive, their last bag of condoms had been left to expire on the nightstand. She couldn’t deny it, as much as she enjoyed letting him finish inside her, she had grown tired of the pill. Even with the superior custom Capsule Corp version, side effects weren’t worth it. “If it’ll tone the crazy down, then fine!”, Vegeta rebuked. He sounded as exasperated as she felt.   “Alright, maybe I will!”, she threatened and bluntly yanked the saiyan’s shorts down his thighs, freeing his erection. “Fine, then!” “Fine!” She was so aroused she didn’t stop to think about what they’d just said. By the time Vegeta had slipped inside of her and made her whole bed rock under his forceful thrusts, her mind had been tacitly made up. Later, with her arms and legs wrapped around the saiyan’s sturdy built, cradling his head against her shoulder and feeling his heat spilling inside of her, her eyes had drifted to the box of pills on her nightstand and found resolve in her decision. A sort of primal, whimsical urge had found its way into her brain…

When her hand found nothing but cold sheets, Bulma’s head shot up, almost instinctively. She blinked in confusion, the heaviness of sleep still resting on her head, looking at the empty space beside her in the bed. For a moment, she’d forgotten. Vegeta never stayed afterward. He didn’t sleep in her bed anymore. Or was it she who didn’t let him? She couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. She rubbed her eyes, trying to chase some of the tiredness away. Outside, stars had started to fade. Sunrise had just started to brighten the night sky. The day was on its way, but not quite there yet. She forced herself to slip out of her bed and look outside. From her room she could see most part of the yard. The landing strip where her spaceship had been anchored was still empty. Vegeta hadn’t come back. Or not to her back yard, at least. Judging from the time, it couldn’t have been more than four of five hours since he’d left. Still not a worrying amount of time. She diligently checked the security cameras around the house and then into Trunk’s room. No sings of the saiyan and her precious baby boy was still fast asleep. It wouldn’t have been too long before he’d woken up, demanding her milk.  Nevertheless, the late-night snack from the night before might have bought her some time. And she knew just how to use it. With a relieved sigh, she let herself fall down on her bed once more, crawling under the sheets, baby monitor in hand. She figured she could slip in a couple more hours of sleep, if luck assisted her. She would have surely heard the spaceship engine when Vegeta deigned to come back.

[nyeusigrube-haven]

All Just Glass: Background clips 1 and 2

ALL JUST GLASS

Background Clips

Prologue

1981

That idiot. If he appeared and disappeared one more time, she was going to strangle him.

As nonsensical as that idea seemed, since he didn’t need to breathe. But she was annoyed.

11:48. She should have been out of here by now, but this vampire was playing havoc with her self-control. Or the faint apparition of willpower she mistakenly liked to call "self-control."

Abruptly, a hand was resting on her right forearm, not tight enough to restrain yet, though the potential was there. The other half of the pair snaked around her to proffer a calla lily.

"A gift, for the most beautiful woman here," he offered.

She shook his grip off, turning, and finally the admirer who had been stalking her to- who had invited her to this bash, actually- stood before her.

"You’re late," she said. "You were supposed to-"

He hushed her, a finger over her lips, and she was shocked enough that she actually stopped talking. When he had invited her, he had promised to show up by ten; here it was almost the Devil’s Hour.

"I was here," he teased. "I never said I would introduce myself."

She glared. 11:50, the clock read. She really needed to get out of here; midnight was not a fond time for her at these parties.

"Would you care to dance?" the vampire offered.

"First I would like to know your name." He had been following her around, playing merry hell with her hunting trips, and flirting for months now. From small gifts left in absurd places, to poetry called down from darkened rooftops as she stalked her prey, to odd moments where chocolate cake would appear beside her bed while she slept, he had attempted to court her.

Her! He was a vampire, infatuated with a hunter.

And finally he had invited her here.

And she had come. And she had been here for hours, mingling and playing nice, and hadn’t killed anything yet.

"Jerome," he answered. "Now would you like to dance?"

The music had surged into a slow song, ethereal and falsely peaceful.

They danced. Jerome was a fine dancer. More than fine.

11:57. His gaze followed hers to the clock. "How about a walk outside?" he suggested. A walk outside, while Devil’s Hour fell inside.

"Outside" included an Oriental garden, lush and beautiful. Jerome kept an arm around her shoulders as they walked, and she couldn’t tell if he was being friendly or trying to keep her from reaching the knife on the back of her neck.

"You know I have a fiancée," she said, wondering about this handsome vampire and how mad he truly was.

"The honorable Fredrick," he answered lightly. "He’s human, you know. No good for you at all."

She shook her head.

"You know what I am." She knew he did. But she needed to hear him say it.

"Of course." He sighed. Inside, a clock struck midnight.

"This is traditionally when you try to drink my blood, and I kill you," she said, wondering whether Jerome had plans to that effect. That was certainly what was going on inside- save for the second part. Most of the guests had no idea what their hosts were until the moment when the fangs were shown.

Yet there was no screaming. There never was. She had seen enough vampires with their prey to know that the prey rarely fought. More often, it swooned.

"I don’t like tradition," Jerome answered. He stopped, facing her in the darkness. "How about we say this is the moment when I kiss you." He tilted her face up as he spoke. "And you kiss me back?"

They did. The clock had stopped striking when his lips met hers; she wrapped arms around his neck.

Jerome’s skin was warm as any human’s. She had never understood that.

His kiss trailed from her lips to her throat. She wrapped fingers around the handle of the knife on her left wrist, waiting for the bite.

He lifted his head, and she leaned against him, relaxing. "You are too tempting," he said, his voice shaky.

She could see through the window another couple, like Jerome and herself, the man’s lips at the woman’s throat. Only he had bitten. The woman’s fingers were twined in his hair, her body slack, supported by his embrace.

"What does it feel like?" She had never been in a position to know.

Jerome knew what she was asking. "If you don’t fight..." He shook his head. "It’s not something that can be described. It feels good. Really good." He took a breath, something that was completely unnecessary; it was one of those odd traits some vampires had, a habit left over from human time when emotions were expressed through breathing. "That’s why so many people are willing," he added. "And if the vamp can roll your mind, even better. You’re a thousand miles away, floating in paradise in an instant."

She knew about those people, humans who willingly attended these bashes with the hope that some vampire would take their blood.

"Could you?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically tentative.

Jerome looked surprised. "Only if you let me."

She had known that. He wasn’t the strongest of his kind, and the defenses in her mind were powerful.

It was tempting. When would she possibly get this opportunity again?

She tilted her head back, brushing silky blonde hair from her throat. Jerome met the invitation instantly, his lips hovering over the pulse for a moment. He whispered, "Sweetheart," an endearment that seemed out of place, breath cool on her skin, and then she felt the press of fangs. She consciously lowered the walls in her mind, and then...

As he had said, there were no words. A million caresses. A flow of warm water. A sweet lethargy like the warm fuzzy stage just before sleep.

However it was described, when he lifted his head again, she wanted more. She tried to pull him back down and he laughed.

"I think you would be very cross with me if I took too much," Jerome said.

She settled for the next best thing, rising on her toes to try to meet his lips, but again he pushed her back.

"Not unless you want to taste your own blood," he warned her.

Not like she had never tasted it before.

Clip

1981/Modern Day

She had come in late, limping on an ankle that had been broken earlier in the evening. Monica had tried to heal it for her so neither of their mothers would know, and had managed to fix the fracture so she wouldn't damage anything by walking on it until it finished healing, but it still hurt.

She forced herself to stop limping.

Caroline Vida greeted her youngest daughter at the doorway with a demand of, "Where have you been?"

"I had some trouble."

"You seem to have had a lot of trouble lately."

The cool words bit into her, and she closed a fist to try to keep her control. Yes, she hadn't finished the last couple fights as smoothly as she should have, but she had finished them. She had won. Wasn't that what mattered?

She was so tired. School, training, hunting, endless studies; she didn't have a life, just a duty.

"I'm transferring you out of that school," Caroline said. "It's doing you no good. You'll be back at Dixiko Thryth starting next week."

Oh... no. "But I-"

"Studying with humans has pulled you behind in the rest of your training. Your extracurricular activities have gotten in the way of your duty. I gave you a chance to prove to me you could do both; evidentially you can't. Return your books tomorrow."

"Mother-"

"No argument."

There was never any argument. Head bowed, she said, "Yes, Mother."

Dismissed, she climbed the stairs to her room, only to go out the window once she had locked the door. Outside, she finally opened her fist, to find four blood-filled crescents inside her palm.

Was it so much to ask for, what humans took for granted? She needed to stop thinking for a while, needed to relax. With that decision in mind, she crossed the lawn and jogged to the nearest payphone. The number she dialed was now very familiar to her fingers.

"Jerome? Can you pick me up?"

"Sure, babe."

After the call, it took him only moments to arrive. "Hey there, sweetheart," he greeted her, as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Here, finally, she wasn't Caroline Vida's daughter. Funny, that it was a vampire who was able to ignore that bit.

"I don't want to think for a while," she whispered, snuggling against him and then lifting onto her toes to kiss him.

"You don't have to," he promised her. "I'll find us a party."

He was as good as his word, and before long they were at another bash, much like the one where they had first met.

When the Devil's Hour fell, he pulled her close and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back as his lips fell to her throat. She let down her walls and he took her mind as he took her blood, making all the fear and frustration and fatigue and anxiety and hopelessness and resentment disappear.

She was dizzy when he pulled away. He had taken exactly as much as she could stand to lose without getting sick. It was never enough, never enough to quite make it all go away.

But enough to make tonight tolerable.

She woke gasping, covered in cold sweat, her whole body trembling. It had been a long time since she had had one of those dreams, but never long enough.

The sun hadn't even risen outside, but she knew she would not sleep again this night. Instead she rose and showered, trying to wash away both sweat and shame. The first rinsed off easily; the second, no amount of hot water could ever seem to touch.

She dried off and dressed, schooling her face to a controlled expression. She checked her appearance in the mirror, and decided that no one could see the memories that danced behind her eyes.

She frowned as she realized her arms were crossed across her chest, hugging herself as if it could make anything better.

No one would ever know.

She ran a hand across the unmarked skin of her throat. How many nights had she gone to him? How many times had he taken the pain away?

How many nights since had she woken craving that, as she had tonight?

No one would ever know.

She began a series of stretches, and then worked through her fighting forms. She had etched each of these so deeply in muscle memory that they would never fade, but still she did them.

Four hours later, after running through every exercise she usually did in a week, she once again had herself under control. She showered again, this time quickly, just to cool down after the series of workouts, and dressed in her street clothes.

She strapped her Vida blade in place, followed by her two favorite backup blades. She had work to do tonight.

Maybe she would even find the one she really wanted to kill.

[huntertales]

Part Three: The Things We Do For Our Kids. (Freaks and Geeks S08E18)

Episode Summary: The reader and the Winchester brothers investigate a recent set of murders that appear to be caused by a vampire, and are surprised to learn that teenage hunter Krissy Chambers is involved. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,150.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

A little after the kids headed off to school and Victor headed off to do some errands around town from what you heard him say before leaving, you decided to explore around the place to waste some time. There wasn't much to see, the place looked like any other house you been in. You made your way over to the mantle to see the family was already making memories for years to come, however many they had left from the way they were living their life. You felt a smile tug at the end of your lips seeing the three teens looking happy together. 

You had to at least admit they worked well together as a team. If they really wanted to become hunters and devote their lives to making the world a better place, you and the boys couldn't stop them. But that was after they were legal adults and finished high school. Right now they were impressionable teenagers trying to work through the grief they were feeling. And their guardian was giving you all sorts of strange vibes that wasn't settling well in your stomach. You didn’t care what Victor said, there was no such thing as the perfect hunter. 

All of you were the same way; individuals either dragged or brainwashed into this lifestyle with your set of skills that kept you alive and killed all sorts of monsters. Didn't matter how smart and fast you were, it all depended on how a person handled danger when it came running in your direction. And not even the strongest of hunters was immune to the darker side of this lifestyle. From lost lives to the horrible things you had to do in order to survive. You grabbed a photograph from the mantle of the teenagers looking happy on a sunny afternoon. They seemed happy, like a group of friends just hanging out. You didn't want these kids to experience the things you did just yet. You didn't want these kids to experience all of this just yet. 

You looked over your shoulder when you heard the front door open to see who it was, expecting it to be Victor. But you were surprised to see it was the three teens, who should have been in their first period from the time on the clock. "Hey. What happened to school?"

“Victor pulled us out.” Aiden told you.

“Why?” You asked, wondering why the sudden change in plans. 

"'Cause we've found another target." Victor came out from the kitchen with a folder in his hand, the mention of a new addition to the case summoned Sam from another part of the house. The both of you exchanged a slightly concerned look and gathered around, Sam asked who the man found. "The vamp that killed Krissy's dad. You ready?" 

You glanced over to see Krissy’s first reaction of finally tracking down the monster responsible for the death of her father. This was something every hunter dreamed about. Revenge was ripe for the taking. Something was starting to smell rotten. “Okay.” Victor opened up the file and pulled out a black and white screen shot of what appeared to be a young woman walking across the way. “Pulled this from a security camera at a nearby gas station.” 

“Wait,” Sam seemed to having the same amount of skepticism about the information Victor was giving all of you. “how do we know this is definitely her?”

“Police sketch, victim’s accounts,” Victor pulled out a sketch of the female that vaguely matched the one in the photograph along with an official report of the events in black and white. But what sold Krissy on this girl being her father’s killer was another closer shot he pulled out. “And this.”

Victor pointed at something the girl was wearing, which turned out to be necklace from the looks of it. Kirssy reached out and grabbed the photograph from the table to get a better look. She felt a sense of familiarity come over her at the sight of the piece of jewelry. “My dad’s necklace. My mom gave it to him on their anniversary.” 

Sam found himself unable to be convinced these photographs or the evidence Victor provided was the real deal. He grabbed another picture to get himself a better look. You leaned over slightly to examine it yourself, which you noticed a tiny detail that didn't match over pictures you seen of this kind. Sam mentioned his concerns. "Are you sure this is a video surveillance pic?"

“It’s her!” Krissy suddenly snapped at the man. 

You knew she was fueled by the idea that this person she was staring at—wearing her father's necklace--was the person responsible. It was all there in black and white. You didn't have time to change her mind about investigating further into this when you heard your phone ring. Excusing yourself when you saw that it was Dean checking up, you answered and wandered off to another part of the house for a private conversation. 

"How'd it go with the girl?" You asked him wandering through the kitchen and to another place to distance yourself from the group.

“Strange. Might be that the vampire wasn’t lying. He was fresh made within the month,” Dean said, giving you details that didn’t add up to the things you already knew. “but Josephine’s family was murdered three months ago.” 

“So, who killed them?” You wondered.

“I don’t know. I’d like to talk to whoever’s driving that blue van. Other than that,” Dean said, he didn’t have much of anything else to tell you that helped figure out who was responsible. “What about you and Sam?”

“Something’s up. Victor says he has a surveillance photo of the vampire that killed Krissy’s father. But, Dean…” You glanced over your shoulder as you dropped your voice to a whisper so no one heard what you were about to say. “I’m not so sure.” 

“Why’s that?” Dean asked you.

“There’s no time stamp on it.” You said, the little detail was making you feel like there was ever so slightly off about the evidence where Victor got it from. 

“Okay.” Dean said, listening to your suspicions. “So you think he’s lying?” 

“Well, that,” You admitted it was the first guess that crossed your mind. “Or he’s just wrong. It’s hard to say.” 

“Yeah, I never trust a guy who wears a sweater.” Dean’s humor made a chuckle escape your mouth as you glanced over at Victor to see he was talking, probably making some plan to get this hunt started. "You want me to head back there?"

“No, no. I’m good. Sammy and I can take care of this.” You reassured the older man. “We’re gonna do some more digging.”

"All right." Dean said. "I'm gonna talk to the hotel clerk, see what he knows." 

You ended the call shortly after that, deciding to take a better look at those security photos to see if they were in fact the real deal. You glanced out the window you had been standing next to during the rest of the duration of the call. It all seemed like another peaceful and quiet morning, until you spotted a van parked across the street—in a shade of blue. You pushed back the curtain to take a better look for yourself. While the car seemed to be empty, you had a feeling the driver was around somewhere close by. 

You didn't waste a second heading back to the dining room where you remembered everybody else was. The only people left were Sam and Victor, the three teens were nowhere to be found. You let out a faint sigh from the possible trouble they were getting themselves into. "Where did everybody go?"

“Tracking that vamp.” Victor told you, making you feel unsure if that was a blessing or a curse for the predicament you were in. 

“Well, I think we’ve got a problem a lot closer to home. Look at this.” You said. The three of you headed back to the window where you had been just standing to show the men what you had discovered. “See that blue van? Dean saw it outside the hotel yesterday. We think he’s working with the vampire we killed.”

“Looks like we’re going hunting.” Victor said. 

You didn’t waste a second in finding where you placed your machete, Sam doing the same. Victor armed himself with a gun for any precaution if something went wrong before all of you headed towards the van. Groups were stronger in numbers. Sam lead while you followed behind, Victor trailed in the back. You and the younger Winchester approached the van to see the drivers side windows were rolled down, Sam inspected the inside to see if he could find anyone hiding in the back. But there was no one in sight. Which meant the vampire was on foot. Where to? That’s what you needed to find out before it was too late. 

The three of you decided to check the neighborhood and through the quiet park just a few minutes walk from the house. Luckily for you there was nobody in sight, everyone was either at work or school. Sam decided to split up with you and Victor, taking one area of the woodsy park while you took the other. It seemed like a decent idea at the time. The other hunter hadn't given you much of a reason to distrust him. Other than providing some faulty information that didn’t seem like it made sense of why he would have pulled such an ammature move. You tried to tell yourself you were being too harsh on the man. But your gut told you otherwise. It told you to keep him at a distance and never take your eyes off of him. 

You had been doing just that, following behind the hunter you had only met just the other day. Who had given you almost no indication that he meant any harm. He just wanted to do what was best for his kids that he was looking over. Make sure that they had a better life and hunting experience than he had. And he’d do anything to make sure nothing got in his way. It was the sound of a twig snapping in the distance behind you that caught you off guard and took your eyes off of Victor for one second. And it was the one second that all he needed to get his way of sealing the teenager’s path in hunting for good. 

You needed to crack a few eggs to make an omelet, in Victor’s case it was a rough whack to the back of the head that sent you dropping to the grass, knocked out cold for the next part of the plan. Sam would be facing the same fate as well. Victor didn’t feel the least bit bad at what he was doing. Parents do drastic things all the time to give their children a better and brighter future. And who better to send the message he was trying to get across than with a couple of hunters who made life harder for others. Victor was doing the world a favor. 

+ + +

You had to admit you were starting to get nervous about the idea of parenthood and raising a child. If you took away the hunting and supernatural, there was so much that you were left to think about. You weren't dreading the sleepless nights of feeding and a fussy baby. Endless diapers and laundry that needed to be done. You were nervous about the fact that you were going to be bringing a brand new life into this world. You were going to be responsible for raising another person to make sure they grew up to have the right morals. Make sure they were kind and understanding. Most important of all is that they were loved. 

If there was anything you knew about the parents who raised you...it was about choice. Letting your child decide their own future was what scared most parents. You wanted your child to be successful and happy. But you also wanted them safe, pick something you knew they were good at. Your mother wanted you to be sheltered as possible and live a normal life, she never had. John wanted his boys to always be ready for danger. In Victor's case, he wanted to raise the best generation of hunters by molding them from the ground up. He gave the teeangers a sad backstory and everything to give them motive along with a strong bond. 

You slowly felt yourself coming back to consciousness after being taken off guard by Victor. The prick was sitting on the couch to greet the both of you when you awoke. You were immediately overtaken with anger at the mere sight of his face. Much as you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, you couldn't do much more than sit back in the dining room chair with your wrists tied to the arm rests. You moved your glare away from Victor and towards his friend standing on the other side of the room. 

“Good. You’re both awake. We don’t have much time.” Victor said, pushing himself up to his feet. Sam didn't seem to like the sound of what the man was saying, leading him to ask what else was part of his big plan. You had a feeling it didn't involve letting you and Sam go when he flipped over an end table, sending the contents on it to go crashing to the ground. "Picture this. The kids arrive home victorious, only to find Sam dead in their living room. Y/N clinging to life. It seems that the nest of vampires they were hunting were seeking revenge..." Victor told you and Sam about his brilliant idea, all while turning over the coffee table to add more to the story to make it believable. You felt your fingers slowly curl into a fist. "And killed you both. Thus, inspiring them to hunt even more. Not letting any sort of distraction stop them. I’m sorry, guys. I can’t have anyone poisoning my kids’ minds.”

“Other than yourself, that is.” You called him out on his own behavior, not falling for the little act he was putting on to fool himself at what he was doing. You slowly shook your head at what you were learning about him, what things he would do in order to make a couple of better hunters. “I knew there was something off about you the moment I met you.” 

“I don’t need to justify my actions to you two or his self-righteous ass of a brother!” Victor defended himself against your judgement of what he thought was the right thing to do. 

“You mean like why you’re working with a vampire?” Sam asked the man. “So what’s he get out of this? Free roaming rights?” 

“We are at war—a war that we are losing. That leviathan fiasco was a wake-up call. We have to do what we can to survive. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Sam. You’re not a father. And Y/N, well...I’m doing the world a favor. Don't think we all know about what you are. Something like you should never bring a child into this world. It'd only bring more destruction. Neither one of you know what it's like to hear the cries of your children dying. But now I have a second chance to make it alright," Victor was telling himself anything he needed to make the excuse of being apart of at least a half dozen murders for the better good. The seething glare coming from you and Sam's lack of sympathy told Victor he wasn't moving the crowd. It took all of your willpower not to spit in his face when he came forward to the both of you. "to create the next generation of hunters—stronger, faster, smarter." 

Victor's brillant plan of staging a home invasion was quickly foiled by the sound of the front door opening followed by Dean's voice announcing him and the kids were home. Dean only made it to the living room before he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a gun being pointed in his direction, Victor at the other end of it. The three teenagers were welcome to the sight of a few tables flipped over and a stranger in their house, all while you and Sam were tied up. You shrug your shoulders when Dean looked in your direction as to figuring out what the hell was going on here. You had a feeling it wasn't going to take very long for the truth to come out. 

“What is going on here?” Josephine cautiously asked. 

“These three are not to be trusted.” Victor warned the teenagers he'd been looking after for the past few months, presuming they would trust him more than a couple of people they just met the other night. "They're trying to destroy us." 

“Do you know this vamp, Victor?” Aiden asked. 

“Of course he does. Tell me, Vic.” You spoke up without a moment’s heistance to rat out the old man. “Tell them all about how you’re working together.” 

"Is that true?" The kid asked him, growing nervous as to who to believe. 

Victor was silent for a long moment before admitting defeat, "It's complicated." 

"No, actually, it's not." Dean said. "See, blue van here's been turning fresh vamps and setting them up for you kids as easy kills."

"But why?" Josephine asked.

“Because they didn’t kill our families, did they?” Krissy was starting to put the pieces together for herself, quickly figuring out who was the real enemy here as she started to approach Victor. 

"Then who did?" Josephine questioned the older man, demanding to know the truth. 

“I did. And they all screamed...and begged for mercy, especially the little ones.” The vampire couldn't help himself at admitting all the gory details about his feasts, the ends of his lips stretching into a pleasured smirk at the sight of the teeanger's horrifed faces.

“Enough, Seth!” Victor shouted at the vampire. He focused his attention back on the teeangers to explain himself better on his drasti actions. “You have to understand. I saw a way to make the future better. But to get there, I had to do something hard.”

“He killed them off your orders?” Krissy asked, hoping what she was saying was just a wild guess she was taking in the dark. Only it was the bitter truth. Victor ruined their lives, broke all of their hopes and dreams into tiny pieces. But he built them back up, made them stronger. 

“You needed motivation. I scouted each and every one of you. And knew it was the only way to get you to hunt.” Victor went into more detail about his brilliant plan that sounded more cynical when he said it out loud. Aiden’s voice broke when he realized the price for all of it to happen was the slaughtering of their families. “I know their deaths are tragic. But think of all the future lives that will now be saved because you are now together.”

“So, these fake vampires were just a way for you to train us and fill our heads with lies?!”

“Don’t you see? This is bigger than all of us. We have to learn to put things in perspective.” Victor showed the kids that he didn't want to hurt them anymore when he gently tossed his gun down to the couch, making him defenseless. "Come with me. We can get past this.”

Krissy pretended to think about it for a moment as she took a few steps forward to the man. She turned her head to look at her family, wondering what all of them wanted to do. It was clear Aiden and Josephine were happy with the idea of putting a bullet in between Victor’s eyes than trust another word that came out of his mouth. She slowly shook her head, as if silently giving Victor his answer. He let out a sigh, having a feeling it might come to this. If they weren’t going to behave like good kids, then Victor decided a punishment was needed. 

Without warning, the vampire grabbed Aiden who was closest, making Dean quickly draw out his gun and pointed it directly at the monster. Victor announced the three of them were leaving, Krissy wasn’t afraid of the man. She told him that wasn’t happening. 

“I taught you everything you know.” Victor told the young woman. “Don’t make me hurt you.” 

Victor forgot that Krissy was born into this lifestyle, her real father was a hunter who taught her a few tricks to keep herself safe. And work together with others as a team. Josephine pulled out a knife from her side and attacked Victor, pushing him out of the way while Krissy grabbed her dart gun filled with dead man's blood and straight in the vampire’s eye. She lodged another one that was the lethal one that sent his body dropping to the ground. When the creature was out of the way, it was time to take care of the real monster. Krissy grabbed a real gun and pointed it straight at Victor. 

“Krissy, don’t.” Dean warned the girl.  

She didn’t listen to him. You watched as she began walking forward to him with her weapon pointed at him, with a look in her eye you were all too familiar with. “If we want revenge for our families’ deaths, he gives it to us!”

“We don’t kill people.” Dean told her. Krissy wasn’t listening. “You don’t kill people.”

“He’s not a person.” Krissy corrected him. “He’s a monster.”

“Krissy, this ends badly, no matter what we do. Killing him isn’t going to bring back your family. It isn’t going to make you feel any better.” You told her the truth, no matter how much of a bitter pill it was going to be. “You’re only going to be bad as him.” 

She listened to what you had to say, thinking they over for a moment before she put her finger on the trigger, making it seem like she was about to put a bullet in the man’s head. The man she called a father figure, who was nothing more than a coward down on his knees in front of her. “This is for my dad.” She pulled the trigger, making everyone flinch for the expected bang that was to follow. But all you heard was the click of the revolver. The gun was empty, but Victor felt as if he was shot. “For Josephine’s family,” Another shot. “For Aiden.” She pulled the trigger, one last time. “For me.”

Death was an easy punishment anyone to hand out when they deserved it. And much as you wanted to see Victor suffer the way he forced these innocent kids, it wasn't the proper treatment he deserved. And Krissy realized that. She shoved a hand inside her pocket and took out a handful of bullets, dropping them over Victor, who was now curled up on the floor in distraught. Maybe at the reality of what he had done. Or his entire plan had backfired in his face. All of his hard work had dwindled down to nothing. 

“So,” Aiden spoke up, not sure how he felt himself about this plan. He thought Victor was getting off too easy from what the horrible things he’d done to them. “We’re just gonna let him live?”

“Yeah. All alone, with himself. No family. No friends. Ask me, that’s not much of anything.” Krissy said. She had to admit she was more pleased with the punishment Victor was given. 

People make their own hell. You are your own worst enemy. Anything you did to Victor was nothing what he was capable of. You were happy with the idea of locking him up somewhere in solitude and forcing him to spend the rest of his life torturing himself. And at the end of his pathetic life you knew what was waiting for him, an eternity of more misery. He’d never children and wife he loved so much ever again. 

Krissy didn’t want to waste anymore of her energy on Victor after all that he did, she wanted to save the vampire she had nearly killed. All of you turned your back on Victor to more important matters. But just mere moments is what the man needed to escape the punishment of facing the rest of his life facing his guilt and grief. Instead, he grabbed a gun from the holster he had around his ankle, putting a bullet in his brain and splattering his blood all over the wall. You let out a frustrated sigh when you saw his limp body hit the ground.

[Next Part]

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