#Hexes and Homicide

[dibator]

Welcome to magical mystery writer Lacey Flax!

Lacey Flax has been an avid reader since elementary school when she could often be found with a Goosebumps or Animorphs book in hand. Now, she mainly reads mysteries, historical fiction and fantasy books. Her debut series, Hexes and Homicide combines her love of mysteries, historical time periods and magic. Lacey lives in North Carolina and enjoys taking her dog to the beach. Links: Facebook…

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[nats-reads-reviews]

October 2024 Reads & Reviews 📚 🎃

Best Hex Ever by Nadia El-Fassi - 5/5⭐️ I absolutely loved this book! I'm a big fan of magical realism romances and this one hit the nail on the head for me. It was cozy, it had depth and great character development, and the spice was hella spicy! I'll definitely be reading the second book to this series when it comes out.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson - 2.5/5⭐️ This book was okay, and I was a little let down, since it's such a popular horror book. But, realistically, not all classics live up to modern day standards of story-telling. I found the dialogue between the characters having too much tongue in cheek humor for what was supposed to be a scary, eerie story. I'm glad I read it though because I can see how this story sets up the modern-day haunted house story and the way vulnerable characters are prone to be effected to hauntings more.

The Pumpkin Spice Cafe by Laurie Gilmore- 3/5⭐️ I didn't know what to expect with this one since it's been so viral and maybe I over-estimated the book because of that and should have known better lol. Even with that being said, it was still a super cute, cozy fall romance that has a good level of spice. If you want an easy, entertaining and no-frills seasonal romance, I'd recommend this one.

Man Made Monsters by Andrea L. Rogers - 3.5/5⭐️ This was a really neat book. If I had to summarize it, I would say it's, "Young Adult Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark with Native American Characters and Themes", which is pretty cool! There was a bunch of short stories and each one had some pretty cool illustrations. I loved that all the stories had characters that were related spanning from the late 1800's to modern times and onward. The inclusion of the family tree was pretty awesome, as well. Very neat and unique read!

The Boyfriend by Freida McFadden - 5/5⭐️ Damn! This was probably one of the my favorite McFadden books so far. I really didn't see the plot twist at the end of this book coming. This was a quick, easy and entertaining read that I'd recommend to any fan of psychological thrillers. I enjoyed the variety of crazy people in this book - they all had their own motives and intents behind their actions for doing wrong and it makes you think a bit about the reasons people turn to murder.

The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw - 2.5/5⭐️ This was such a strange book! I read it for a book club and I think a more realistic, horror style storytelling of The Little Mermaid is super cool. However, it seemed to me that the author used the most complex, and uncommon words to her writing that made it utterly pretentious and difficult to read. The ending was good but I felt the timeline of the story telling was very off and some of the story came after the acknowledgements page which was bizarre to me.

Murder Your Employer: McMaster’s Guide to Homicide - 3/5⭐️ I really didn't know what to expect of this book but it was very unique and highly detailed, as well as filled with dark humor. I enjoyed the story and the premise of a school to teach people how to "delete" people the world would be better off without. However, it just wasn't my cup of tea. It was very quirky which I loved but it just wasn't for me.

The Spellshop by Sarah Beth Durst - 3.5/5⭐️This book is the definition of "cottagecore". It was really cute and cozy, however, it was definitely slow for the first half of the book. The second half was a lot more fast-paced, and I loved the ending. I just wish the pace was more evenly spaced out. Still very much an enjoyable, feel-good book.

A Touch of Darkness by Scarlett St. Clair - 3/5⭐️ I loved a more magical realism take on Greek mythology and the gods being like celebrities within the world of mortals. This was a story about Persephone and Hades relationship. The spice was super good, like very good! The story wasn't anything groundbreaking good but I love an easier fantasy read without it coming with the need of as much lore to the world they live in.

[noisysanctuaryspy]

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[ghostzzy]

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Time Machine Offical Video

[lurker2773]

Characterization for the Hex if the Operator were sent back instead of the Drifter

I like to think about what 1999 could have been if the Lotus sent the Operator back to follow Entrati and not the Drifter. I know it makes the most sense from a character development standpoint to send Drifter, but the Operator is a much more experienced and capable (lorewise) warframe combatant with countless years of practice under their belt - it'd have been equally pragmatic to send the Starchild to 1999 to make sure whatever needs to get done in there happens and have the drifter get trained up and acclimated to the Origin system where there are other tenno to rely on to make up for inexperience and general rookie-ness.

So instead of the Hex getting a grown-ass person with magic void powers from the future, they'd get to have a war veteran trauma child - bonus points if that child is nonverbal or refuses to speak directly to them, and the Hex have to interact with them through the KIM.

And also, consider that most players from a gameplay standpoint habitually keep their Operators cloaked to prevent them from getting shot once they leave their 'frames to do whatever - canonically, the Operator and Drifter don't have a time limit on cloak, I don't think. The Hex are basically never even going to see the kid, and that could be more terrifying. Imagine seeing a puppet version of what you could be, dangling from the strings of some invisible, intangible thing with superpowers and magic lasers coming out of their hands.

Imagine mid mission Arthur turns to look at the weird and mysterious time-travelling entity and just sees a collapsed Baruuk on it's knees or frozen completely still in a weird position before it suddenly zooms about thirty meters away midair and starts straightening itself back out again in ways that joints shouldn't move in before slamming into the ground and rushing headlong into a crowd of Scaldra to 'build melee combo,' whatever the hell the demon child means by that.

Here's the meat of the post, though - the Hex (and newcomers like Flare and Kaya) can play the Context(TM) game like they do with Drifter through KIM and slowly piece together that this is a magical child soldier with a bodycount larger than all the people they've ever collectively laid eyes on, and then react in interesting ways that would lend interesting characterization.

Eleanor and Arthur would be horrified, probably, and Arthur might start talking down to the Operator because it's 'just some kid' who's clearly in over their head. Most of it's concern, but I think some small amount would be bruised pride - how could some kid be better at killing than a trained soldier?

Aoi would be heartbroken at the revelation that their new ally is a child soldier - how could anyone let that happen to them? How sick do you have to be to make children kill whoever the government pointed at with techno-organic corpses?

And Quincy would definitely be fucked up in the head for a few days after he figures it out - that could open up some opportunities for more characterization given his soft spot for kids. Would he try to keep up his aloof act, like he does with the Drifter, or immediately discard it to try and comfort a child that has already made peace with their ridiculous capacity for murder?

Amir might do something similar to Arthur, but more patronizing than hostile - he means well, but this is a kid. If Amir himself feels out of his depth in the current situation and he's an adult, then surely a child would feel even worse than he does about killing a person.

I think Lettie would be the most chill of the original Hex, though. She's jaded enough that she'd be concerned, but would probably decide that it's not really any of her business - especially considering just how talented the Operator is at mass homicide.

Velimir and Minerva could also be really interesting. On the one hand, they could see little bits of Rusalka in the Operator, but that could also lead to coddling or 'replacement goldfish'-like behavior not unlike how I imagine Amir's reaction would have been.

Flare would have been the first to know. One wayward comment from Lizzie calling the Operator demon-child or something of the like, and they'd have put it together pretty quickly after that.

Kaya would just be glad there's someone else who understands being underestimated by older people just because they're younger.

[bartonomy]

REGULUS BLACK AND THE ART OF LOVING A MADMAN ( WOMAN??)

PAIRING Regulus Black x Crouch!Fem! Reader

SYNOPSIS When you pick a fight with Mulciber (again), get hit with a particularly nasty hex (again), and land yourself in the hospital wing (again), Regulus has to work his usual charm on a professor to clean up your mess. Just another day in his fucking life.

CONTENT WARNING not proofread! ,crouch family slander, reader gets hurt, regulus getting pulled into things, fluff!!

WORD COUNT 1.8k

library.

Regulus Black regretted a lot of decisions in his life.

Most of them involved his family, some of them involved his choice of friends, and at least one of them involved that time Barty had convinced him to try a new spell that had made him vomit slugs for an hour. But on the top among his many regrets, the one that occupied his mind on a near-daily basis and might be the reason why his hair is greying at the ripe age of 16, was the fact that he had somehow, against all logic and reason, fallen in love with you out of all people.

And, unfortunately, the most insane person he had ever met.

“Stop them!” a first year yelled across the courtyard.

Regulus sighed deeply, already rubbing his temples. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake-”

He turned just in time to see you- his oh so lovely, brilliant and slightly deranged girlfriend- launching herself at Mulciber like a particularly homicidal pixie.

“Oh, brilliant,” Regulus muttered.

The duel had looked absolutely pathetic, if he was being honest. Spells were flying. Mulciber’s wand was raised, his face exasperated with anger and annoyance, while you looked totally unbothered, happy even, to be challenged. “You really want to do this, Crouch?”

“You looked at me funny,” you mused, as if that was a reasonable explanation. You showed no sign of actually doing any harm that day,he thinks, much to his surprise.

Merlin's buttocks, I'm getting too used to this mental buffoonery.

As if you could hear his thoughts (well, his steps weren't exactly quiet on the cobble stones), you added, "Care to repeat what you said about me and Barty as well, Mulci?"

Regulus let out a long-suffering sigh. Of course it about Barty. Barty Jr. could get away with murder in front of you, and you would still defend his honor as if he were some kind of noble martyr instead of an absolute menace.

For once, though, he wasn’t involved. He was sitting off to the side, watching the fight unfold with mild interest, completely unaware that his little sister was about to get herself hexed into oblivion on his behalf.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn't the truth, Black,” Mulciber was saying lazily to him. “And you know,” he drawled, twirling his wand between his fingers, “I always wondered how someone as uptight as Barty Sr. managed to spawn not one, but two utter disappointments.”

Regulus felt his girlfriend tense. Beside you, Barty went very still.

Mulciber smirked. “I mean, your brother’s already well on his way to becoming a Ministry disgrace. But you-” He let out a low whistle. “I don’t know if you’re worse because you’re reckless or because you don’t even realize it.”

Regulus sighed. Oh, for Merlin’s sake.

Barty scoffed, looking deeply unbothered. “Well, you would be an expert on family disappointments, Mulciber. How is your Squib cousin, by the way?”

Mulciber’s smirk faltered. His wand snapped up. That was it.

"Sectumsempra!"

You barely dodged it, eyes narrowing. “Alright, you little freak, where the hell did you learn-”

Regulus was already moving, pushing through the gathering crowd of Slytherins who had circled around, waiting for blood. “Protego!” Regulus flicked his wand just in time to deflect the bombarda that was just blasted- your spell, because of course you weren't backing down. No, you were going straight for the kill. “Reggie!” you whined. “I had him!”

“No, you didn’t,” Regulus said flatly.

“Mulciber, you have the nerve to continue this child's play,” Barty Jr. called from the sidelines. He didn’t sound particularly concerned. Mulciber smirked. “the little rat has nothing against me.”

He caught his girlfriend’s eye- “Don’t kill him." you just winked. And then, with a graceful, almost lazy movement, you flicked you wand. “Expelliarmus.”

Mulciber barely dodged. He fired back, sneering- “Stupefy!” You stepped casually aside, as if dodging wasn’t even an effort. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, love.”

Mulciber growled and raised his wand. “Depulso!” You twirled your wand midair defending yourself, as if the interaction was boring you immensely. The force of the impact barely even ruffled your hair.

Barty let out a mocking yawn. “Come on, Mulciber. You hex like a first year.” Mulciber’s face twisted with anger. “At least I have some dignity,” he spat. “Unlike your sister, who has none. It’s pathetic, really. A Crouch playing attack dog for a Black?”

Regulus’s jaw clenched. He looked at his girlfriend, and you were smiling, Not in a nice way. Oh, he was so done for.

You tilted your head, mockingly thoughtful. “You know what’s really pathetic, Mulciber?”Mulciber scowled. “What?”

You only flicked your wand. “Silencio.”

His mouth disappeared, where once his lips were, was now a blank canvas of skin. Mulciber’s eyes widened. He tried to speak- but only muffled words came out.

Barty burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s just cruel, tiger” Mulciber’s face twisted with rage. He furiously swiped his wand to counter the curse- but you didn’t let him. With one smooth, effortless motion, you fired another spell.

“Locomotor Mortis.”*

Mulciber stumbled. His legs went jelly-like, his knees buckling beneath him. Regulus exhaled. “Chéri, are you playing with your food?”

“Obviously.”

Mulciber seethed silently. He furiously gestured with his wand and you deflected the curse midair with zero effort. At this point, he was shaking with fury. His pride- his absolute refusal to lose to a damn Crouch-took over. His eyes flashed and he pointed his wand. A muffled “Confringo!” could be heard as red streaks came blasting towards you.

Regulus’s stomach dropped. The spell hit you square in the shoulder, sending you flying backwards with a sickening crack. “Bloody hell-” Regulus lunged forward, catching you just before you hit the ground.

Your robes were singed, your arm at an unnatural angle that would make a troll wince, and, of course, you were still trying to get back up. “ I swear to my ancestors souls, let me at him, Regulus, before-”

Regulus tightened his grip, pushing you down gently. “You are not dueling with a broken arm.”

You huffed. “I could still win.”

“You could also die,” Regulus snapped. He turned to Mulciber, eyes cold. “Are you quite finished?”

Mulciber raised his hands frantically, gesturing to you and back to barty as if to say 'Hey, she started it!'

Regulus didn’t argue. You had, in fact, started it. But that didn’t make this situation any less infuriating.

“Barty,” he called. “A little help?”

Said boy finally got up from his seat, leisurely strolling over like this wasn’t a life-or-death situation. He peered down at his sister with a critical eye, then shrugged. “You’ll live.”

You groaned. “That’s your concern?”

“You look fine to me,” he said cheerfully. “Besides, I think you got one good hit in." Regulus was going to lose his mind. “You are both insane,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” they said at the same time.

Regulus was already tired. He hadn’t even had breakfast yet. This was supposed to be a normal day. But no, his girlfriend had to pick a fight before 8 AM.

Merlin’s beard, this family was going to be the death of him.

Regulus was not built for this kind of stress. He ran a calloused hand through his pale face, cursing the gods for giving him a reckless bomb of a girlfriend when he once, pathetically, called upon them in his third year.

Meanwhile, Barty- who had been doubled over, laughing at Mulciber from the bed opposite the room, finally spoke, grinning.

“That was brilliant,” he told his sister. “Merlin, I love you. This is why you’re my favorite sibling.”

“You don’t have any other siblings,” Regulus pointed out dryly.

“Exactly!” Barty beamed.

On Godrick's balls, was he tired.

He sat next to your bed, watching as Madam Pomfrey fussed over your arm. The hex had done more than break the bone- it had burned through your sleeve (from your brand new robes, if you might add), leaving angry red scorch marks trailing down your shoulder.

You were delighted by this, and he was flabbergasted.

“I bet it’ll scar,” you said excitedly. “That’s wicked, am I right?”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. It’s not wicked. It’s downright idiotic.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, already immune to your nonsense. “You’ll be fine by morning, dear. But you’re staying here for now.”

That was fine. That was great, actually. What wasn’t great was the fact that Slughorn was already marching into the room, looking both concerned and exasperated.

Regulus immediately straightened, preparing himself for an hour (more like 10 minutes with the way that mustache of a man rambles) of scolding.

“Miss Crouch,” Slughorn sighed. “Another duel?”

“She started it,” Regulus said quickly, ever the dutiful boyfriend.

His girlfriend shot him a betrayed look. “Regulus!”

Slughorn shook his head. “Detention, I’m afraid.”

Regulus tilted his head, sliding into his usual charming demeanor. “Professor, surely you can’t punish someone who’s already suffered so much.”

Slughorn frowned. “She hexed Mulciber.”

Regulus offered a smile, smooth as silk, looking past the man to the occupied bed with said subject. “And he hexed her back. Quite viciously, I might add. The poor girl nearly lost consciousness in my arms. It was tragic, really.”

His girlfriend scoffed. “I was fine.”

Regulus nudged you sharply under the blanket. “You were barely breathing,” he said dramatically.

Slughorn looked hesitant. Regulus pushed harder.

“I carried her here myself,” he continued, voice just the right amount of pained. “Do you really think she deserves detention after such an ordeal?”

Slughorn sighed, rubbing his temples. “…Very well. But no more dueling.”

Regulus smiled, victorious. “Of course, Professor.” Slughorn gave them one last weary look before leaving.

The second he was gone, you gaped at him “You are actually insane,” you said scandalized and eyes wide.

Regulus smirked. “You’re welcome. Perhaps we can star our mornings not risking our lives and you know, go to the great hall like normal witches, hm?"

You only beamed up to him, leaning back against the pillows. “You love me.”

Regulus exhaled, already exhausted again.

“…Tragically, yes. I do”

[drarryspecificrecs]

2025.01 ~ Top 9 longest fics posted on AO3

1. First Watch of Night by @tackytigerfic [E, 273k]

Harry Potter defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts on May 2nd, 1998. But what if he didn't?

2. Quidditch Notes by @hajinjin13 [T, 227k]

Draco Malfoy never thought the Dark Lord might actually return someday and now that he has, there are only two choices. Instead of playing along like a good little boy, Draco turns spy on his father for Order protection and interrupts Harry's breakfast to tell him so.

3. Indigo by @setissma [E, 129k]

Draco had at least four folders open on his desk, at least one of which contained a number of graphic photographs of a homicide scene. He sighed. “I’m in the middle of this. And the fact that they’re willing to let me verify it is, in fact, an indication that they’re telling the truth.” [...]

4. Call Out My Name by paraphaxis [E, 71k]

Within a different magical community led by a tyrant called Tom Riddle, there were two families desperate to put an end to these dreadful times: the Potters and the Malfoys. The chance was small, but it existed. Their children were what they called "The Chosen Ones", endowed with impressive magic and a slightly questionable character, they were the only ones who could put an end to Tom Riddle, without them, the magical world would be overthrown. [...]

5. A Living Death by chrysaetius [T, 69k]

Returning to Hogwarts was supposed to be a fresh start, a step toward normalcy after the war. But for Draco Malfoy, normal is a distant memory. An inexplicable curse shields him—no spell, hex, or jinx can touch him. His peers murmur of dark deals and magic, branding him an outcast in a place meant to be a sanctuary. Only Harry Potter seems unmoved by the rumors, yet he alone holds the unsettling power to break through Draco’s immunity. And... some secrets are buried deeper than they ever imagined.

6. The Aftermath is Legendary by JoiBoy [M, 49k]

Draco does time in Azkaban. The aftermath is legendary.

7. Forever Mine by Toffeemond [E, 47k]

[...] « I'm pretty sure we decided to put a stop to… whatever this is, » Draco gestured between them. « No, you decided all on your own, » Harry slowly walked up to him, his smile intact but a dangerous glint shining in his bright green eyes. « I never agreed to anything. »

8. I Dreamt of King's Cross Station by SusanMort [T, 44k]

This is a story about healing.

9. i think that possibly, maybe i'm falling for you by @cr-amber [E, 42k]

Harry runs into Draco working at a coffee shop fifteen years after the war, and he’s nothing like Harry remembers.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 15k

※ Word count: 15k ~ 40k

Another Wandshop Story by LittleFear [E, 17k]

Aren't We in a Pickle? by @reloumi [E, 20k]

bright as the morning (soft as the rain) by indizzlerizzle [T, 18k]

Draco Malfoy is Not a Girl by @duchessdulce [T, 22k]

Hearts Like Ours by @upon-poppyhills [E, 21k]

Life Is The Messy Bits by slytherflower [T, 32k]

No Children by @fluxherbaria [E, 33k] *typo

One Good Thing by @leyliu [T, 15k]

We've Always Been Drowning by DracoAbraxas [T, 22k]

You're My Boyfriend Now by LaughterLoveAndLarry [E, 19k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

DCC Kinkuary 2025

Drarry Ass Fest (1)

Drarry Week 2025 | @drarry-week (1)

Tortured Poets’ Gift Exchange (New Year’s Version)

Wizarding Society's Fests Music Wrap-up 2024 | @wizardingsocietyfests (1)

[original-szajnie]

Klonnie Weekend Day 1: Forced Proximity

Bonnie Bennett knew this flight was going to be a mistake the moment her gate changed three times in under fifteen minutes.

Now, as she stood just inside the plane’s narrow entrance—shoulder bumped by a harried flight attendant, suitcase wheel dragging like a limp limb—she caught sight of 12B and froze.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

There he was. Reclined like the world owed him something. Which, knowing him, he probably believed it did.

Klaus Mikaelson.

Neat black button-up. Ridiculously tailored coat folded on his lap. Glass of sparkling water already in hand, as if this were his private cabin and not a commercial flight full of crying toddlers and stale air. He looked… amused.

“Witch.” His tone was pleasant in the way of someone who fully intended to enjoy watching you suffer. “What a surprise.”

Bonnie blinked. Looked at her boarding pass. Then at him. Then back at the pass.

No. No no no. The universe would not do this to her.

“Don’t you have a private jet or something?”

His expression remained unchanged, but an amused slant curved his mouth. He opened a book on his lap. “Or something,” he replied.

Bonnie turned. She wasn’t even subtle about it. She waved down the flight attendant. “Hi—yeah—there’s been a mistake. I can’t sit here. This seat’s taken by Satan.”

“I’m afraid this flight is full, ma’am,” the attendant said in that dead-eyed voice only retail and aviation could inspire. “If you could just take your seat so we can begin the safety demonstration—”

Bonnie was still standing. Still glaring. Still calculating how much magic it would take to teleport herself out of this hell-tube of recycled air and supernatural smugness.

Klaus didn’t even look up from whatever overpriced history book he was pretending to read. “There’s always your broom,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

Her jaw twitched.

Bonnie Bennett did not slap people on airplanes. It was probably a federal offense. Probably.

With a tight smile (that promised murder), she shoved her bag into the overhead bin—aggressively, on purpose—and dropped into the seat beside him with all the grace of a guillotine.

Not looking at him. Not talking to him. Just existing beside him like they hadn’t attempted to kill each other multiple times.

“This is fine,” she muttered to herself. “I’m fine.”

Bonnie buckled in with unnecessary force.

Click. Yank. Set.

Klaus didn’t say a word. Just continued flipping a page every thirty seconds, clearly for show. She could feel the amusement radiating off him like heat. Of course he found this funny. Of course the universe thought this was character development.

The flight attendant began the safety demonstration. Klaus didn’t look up.

Bonnie, on the other hand, was suddenly very invested in the proper operation of a seatbelt.

“…in the unlikely event of a water landing—”

She swallowed. Hard.

Ocean crossings were always the worst.

Her fingers drummed lightly against the armrest. Not panicked. Not yet. Just… present. Just trying not to imagine a freefall.

She popped in her earbuds. Music on, volume high. Not loud enough to block everything—nothing ever was—but it gave her something else to focus on.

She could feel him watching her. Briefly. A flicker in her peripheral vision.

But he didn’t say a word.

The engines whined, the cabin rattled. The nose tipped up, pressed her back against the seat. She closed her eyes. Focused on breathing.

Klaus shifted beside her. Not a fidget—he didn’t fidget—but a subtle shift, like he was cataloging everything. Or maybe bracing for her to hex the oxygen masks.

Then the plane leveled out.

The seatbelt sign chimed off. People began talking, moving, laughing again. She exhaled through her nose.

It was fine. She was fine.

“You’re tense.”

She opened her eyes, barely tilting her head toward him. “I’m sitting next to a homicidal psychopath.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. Just looked at her for a moment longer than necessary.

“Let me guess—big, bad Bonnie Bennett prefers portals?”

She narrowed her eyes. “At least portals don’t shake.”

He leaned back, ever so slightly. “Mm. Shame. I never figured turbulence might be more powerful than you.”

She stared.

He smiled.

She turned away, muttering under her breath, “If we hit a sudden drop, I hope your ego cushions the fall.”

Fifteen minutes later, the drink cart rattled down the aisle like salvation on wheels.

Bonnie sat up straighter the moment she heard the squeaky roll of those little plastic tires. She yanked her earbuds out—not gently—and threw a look at the approaching flight attendant like a woman parched in the desert.

Klaus raised a brow. “Thirsty, love?”

“I’m being proactive,” she muttered. Then before he could speak again, a warning: “Don’t start.”

The attendant stopped beside them. “What can I get you?”

“Vodka. Two, please.” Bonnie held up two fingers, just in case.

The woman blinked. “A double?”

Bonnie smiled sweetly. “No, two bottles.”

Beside her, Klaus huffed a laugh under his breath.

“And for you, sir?”

Klaus offered his best impression of a civilized man. “Nothing for me, love, thank you.”

“Of course you’re abstaining,” Bonnie muttered as she unwrapped the world’s tiniest bottle like it owed her something.

He angled his head. “Some of us manage our existential dread with grace.”

She downed the first vodka mini-bottle like it was NyQuil. No chaser. Just burned it down.

“Some of us don’t have a hybrid metabolism,” she countered, opening the second bottle immediately.

The attendant, wisely, moved on.

Klaus said nothing for a beat. Then, with an almost amused curiosity: “Are you actually afraid of flying?”

Bonnie didn’t answer right away. Just sipped. Stared out the window like the endless blue of the ocean might offer a better conversation partner.

“It’s not flying… it’s the part where we drop out of the sky,” she said finally, voice low and edged with that rare thing he almost never got: honesty.

He didn’t smile this time. “Point taken.”

They resumed their mutual silence.

The cabin settled into its mid-flight lull. Lights dimmed. Window shades half-lowered. The couple across the aisle was snoring in unison. Klaus thumbed his book—not that he’d read more than five pages—while Bonnie stared out the window, jaw clenched so tightly her molars ached.

She hadn’t spoken since drink service — just drank her vodka, crossed her arms, and tried to pretend the sky wasn’t breathing weird around them.

Then came the shift.

The plane rocked, not violently, but enough that her empty plastic cup slid an inch along the tray table. Her hand shot out instinctively to stop it.

“Relax, love,” Klaus murmured beside her. “It’s just a little turbulence.”

She didn’t respond. Just focused on keeping her shoulders from rising too high.

A second tremor passed through the plane, stronger than the last. The overhead bins creaked. Someone let out a nervous laugh three rows back.

Bonnie’s fingers curled into her armrest.

Klaus cast her a sidelong glance. He was smiling. Barely. But it was there.

“Surely you’ve faced down worse things than a bit of weather.” His tone was low. Amused. Dangerously close to smug.

She glared at him. “That was the woods. On the ground. Not in a metal tube over the ocean.”

He chuckled, quiet, indulgent, like he couldn’t decide what was more entertaining: the storm, or her.

Then the plane dropped.

It was sudden and sharp, like the floor vanished. A collective gasp rose through the cabin—someone shouted, another screamed, a baby cried—and Bonnie…Bonnie clutched his arm.

Not lightly. She grabbed him, fingers digging in deep enough to bruise. Her breathing turned fast, shallow. One heartbeat away from cracking.

Klaus stiffened.

The amusement drained from his face in a breath.

He turned toward her, fully now. No smirk. No arrogance.

Just immediate focus.

“Bonnie,” he said, quiet but firm. “Look at me.”

She didn’t. Her eyes were locked on the back of the seat in front of her like she could burn a hole through it.

Given who she was, she probably could.

Another lurch. She flinched again.

“Bonnie,” he repeated, his hand rising—slow, deliberate—to cover hers. His palm was steady, anchoring.

She finally looked up, eyes wide and wrong.

That was fear.

Real fear.

Not frustration, not anger. Not even her usual simmering disdain for him.

This was her body betraying her. This was survival panic.

And Klaus, well, Klaus knew that feeling too well.

“Breathe in,” he said softly. “Through your nose.”

She tried. Failed.

Tried again.

He nodded at her. “Good. In. Hold it. That’s it.”

The plane shuddered, but she didn’t flinch this time. His hand tightened slightly over hers—just enough to say ‘you’re not alone’.

He could feel her magic humming under her skin, wild and scattered. Like a hive of bees. Not dangerous, not yet. But if she lost control…

“You’re fine,” he said. Low. Reassuring. Real. “The plane’s not crashing.”

“How do you know?” she managed to whisper.

“Because I’m on it,” he replied, with absolute certainty.

That startled something close to a breathless laugh out of her. She let her head fall back against the seat.

The plane dipped and shuddered for another ten minutes.

Her grip didn’t ease.

And Klaus didn’t move once.

After what felt like forever to Bonnie, the turbulence passed.

The plane steadied.

The engines hummed their usual white noise, the overhead bins stayed shut, and the flight attendants resumed pretending they weren’t two seconds from pressing the panic button.

Bonnie exhaled—finally. Slow. Unsteady.

Her fingers were still curled around Klaus’s arm, knuckles pale against his coat. She blinked, realized it, and drew back like she’d touched fire.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t comment.

Didn’t smirk or raise a smug eyebrow or say something infuriating like ‘Was that so bad?’

He just sat there. Quiet. Steady.

Bonnie shifted in her seat, brushing her hands against her jeans like it might scrub the moment off her skin. She reached blindly for her water bottle, took a too-long sip, then stared ahead as if the seatback TV held the secrets of the universe.

“I’m fine,” she said eventually when she could still feel his eyes on her. Her voice was rough. A little hoarse.

Klaus finally looked away from her. “I know.”

That was it. No teasing. No pity.

Just fact.

And somehow, that comforted her more than anything else.

She let out a breath—this time less shaky—and sank lower into her seat.

Silence stretched between them again. But it was different now. Not cold. Not sharp. Something slower. Easier.

Bonnie folded her arms, pulled her hood up, and let her eyes drift shut.

She didn’t mean to fall asleep.

But she did.

Two bottles of vodka and an adrenaline rush would do that to you.

And Klaus? He didn’t move the entire time. Not even when she drifted sideways and her head found its way onto the curve of his shoulder.

Her breathing had evened out, arms tucked beneath her hoodie like she was hiding from the world.

Or maybe just from herself.

Klaus didn’t look directly at her, but he didn’t stop watching either.

Not in the obvious way. Not like she’d accuse him of. Just enough to note the faint twitch of her fingers as she slipped deeper into rest. The way her foot was still tapped faintly, like her body hadn’t quite gotten the message that the danger had passed.

She had been afraid. Genuinely.

And it shouldn’t have rattled him.

He knew that she could do impossible things. Snap necks with a thought. Tear open prison worlds. He’d watched her bleed and burn and rise again, over and over.

But this? A plane. A little turbulence. Something she couldn’t control?

That was the kind of fear that lived under the skin. Quiet. Deep-rooted. The kind that didn’t scream—it whispered.

The insidious kind of fear there was no defense against, and he found himself wanting to take it from her.

Even now, her head had drifted slightly to the side, resting on his shoulder. Close enough that if he breathed too deeply, her curls would stir against his sleeve.

He didn’t move.

Wouldn’t dare.

Because then she may wake and feel it again.

Instead, he returned to his book and stared at the same sentence for forty-five minutes.

Eventually, the captain’s voice crackled overhead, muffled by static and disinterest. Something about beginning their descent, local time, seatbacks upright.

Bonnie stirred.

Her brow twitched first, then her fingers, curling slightly as if remembering the shape of fear. Then her eyes opened, lashes fluttering before she blinked fully awake.

Still on the plane.

Still next to him.

Still alive.

For a second, she didn’t move. Just… assessed. The weight in her chest had dulled. The vodka was gone, the panic had passed, and her skin no longer felt two seconds from splitting open.

Then she caught the way her body had drifted—closer to his than she remembered.

Her spine straightened fast.

Klaus didn’t react.

Didn’t glance at her.

Didn’t so much as twitch.

Which, of course, made her feel even more watched.

She cleared her throat. Pushed a hand through her hair. “Did I drool?” she asked dryly, chin lifting just a little.

“Not even a snore,” he said, perfectly even.

She looked at him. He was staring out the window now, all serenity and civility like she hadn’t clutched his arm like a drowning woman a few hours ago.

It was… oddly generous.

A beat of silence passed. The kind that hummed with everything unsaid.

Then the plane gave a tiny lurch.

Not a drop. Not even a wobble. Just a mild nudge of turbulence as they descended through a bank of clouds.

Bonnie’s hand twitched, a reflex. Her fingers lifted slightly from her lap like they remembered the motion. Remembered reaching for him.

But she didn’t reach.

She breathed through it.

She kept her hands in her lap.

And Klaus? He saw it. She didn’t need to look to know.

He said nothing, but there was the faintest curve to his mouth now. Something… proud.

The plane dipped lower. The seatbelt light flared on.

She rolled her shoulders, re-snapping. “Tell me we’re almost there.”

“Landing gear’s down,” he told her, glancing toward the wing. “You’ll be kissing solid ground in under ten minutes.”

“Better than kissing some other things,” Bonnie muttered.

And Klaus—just barely—smiled.

The wheels hit tarmac with a dull thunk.

Bonnie let out the breath she’d been holding. Not a shaky one. Not this time. Just… measured. Intentional.

Klaus shifted in his seat, casual and composed as ever, coat folded neatly over one arm. If he was waiting for her to say something—acknowledge something—he didn’t show it.

Which was almost worse.

The seatbelt light blinked off. Everyone scrambled like the plane was sinking, but Bonnie took her time. She stood only when she was ready, tugging her carry-on from the overhead bin with a practiced yank.

Klaus stood behind her. Close, but not touching.

The jet bridge air was stale and humid. The terminal was louder than she would have liked. Too many voices, too many announcements. Too many fluorescent lights after the half-dark cocoon of the plane.

Still, she moved through it like nothing had happened.

Then—

“Bonnie.”

His voice stopped her just short of the exit.

She turned.

Klaus stood a few feet behind her, an expression on his face she didn’t quite recognize. Like he was weighing something in his head and had decided—just barely—to say it aloud.

“Have you ever seen the Belladonna Gallery? The one with the lost Rossetti?”

Her brow lifted. “That’s oddly specific.”

“Mm. It’s on loan to the museum here. Only for the next month.”

Bonnie crossed her arms, but felt her lips twitch. “That’s subtle,” she said. “Is this your idea of a post-panic pick-up line?”

His own mouth quirked. “Hardly. Consider it an educational opportunity. If you’re up for it.”

“You’re really gonna pretend this isn’t you asking me on a date?”

“I’m not pretending anything.” A pause.”You were brave up there.”

“I’m always brave,” she countered. Then, hardly believing the next words out of her own mouth, continued, “Which is why I’m accepting this not-date you’re pitching.” She turned, pulling her suitcase behind her, hair bouncing slightly across her shoulders as she moved, but she didn’t rush.

Klaus huffed, but fell into step beside her. “The Death of Breuze Sans Pitié has hardly ever been seen in public outside of the 1850’s…” he began.

Bonnie slanted him a look. “I’m going to at least need dinner and wine, too, if I have to actually listen to this.”

Klaus laughed.

And Bonnie, despite herself, decided she liked that sound.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in November 2024 🌈

🌈 Good morning, my bookish bats! Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Happy reading!

❓What was the last queer book you read?

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ I Am the Dark That Answers When You Call - Jamison Shea 🧡 Snowed in With You - Reba Bale 💛 Fire Spells Between Friends - Sarah Wallace & S.O. Callahan 💚 Ho Ho Homicidal Maniac - K.A. Merikan 💙 Escape to the Sea - Alex Callan & Angelica Babineaux 💜 She's Always Hungry - Eliza Clark 💛 Phoenix Rising - Emily Hayes 💙 A Flower's Fatal Thorn - Jordan Dugdale 💜 A Sharper, More Lasting Pain - Alex Harvey-Rivas

❤️ The Librarian's Gargoyle - Evelyn Shine 🧡 Dead Girls Don't Dream - Nino Cipri 💛 Of Hoarfrost and Blood - Scarlet Tempest 💚 Judgement - Lucas Delrose 💙 Deadline for Love - Candi Tab 💜 Wake Up, Nat & Darcy - Kate Cochrane ❤️ All the Truth I Can Stand - Mason Stokes 🧡 Celia - Addison James 💛 A Diamond Bright and Broken - Holly Davis 💙 Hexed - Emily McIntire 💜 Hometown Christmas - Laura Conway 🌈 This Christmas - Georgia Beers

❤️ Suite Heart - Jade Winters 🧡 We All Fall - Arden Coutts 💛 Taiwan Travelogue - Yáng Shuāng-zǐ 💚 Pit Stop - L.M. Bennett 💙 The Damaged Hearts Bargain - Sienna Waters 💜 War of Night - Greyson Black & E. Scott Clevenger 🧡 I'll be Boned for Christmas - Katherine McIntyre 💜 All You Want for the Holidays - Quinton Li 🌈 Queer as Folklore - Sacha Coward

❤️ Time and Tide - J.M. Frey 🧡 Ghost of the Heart - Catherine Friend 💛 Flopping in a Winter Wonderland - Jason June 💚 All the Painted Stars - Emma Denny 💙 Currency in Flesh - Heather Nix 💜 I Really Do - Emily K. Hardy ❤️ Something Close to God - Erika del Carmen Ruiz 🧡 The Crack at the Heart of Everything - Fiona Fenn 💛 Undeniable You - Chelsea M. Cameron 💙 The Twice-Sold Soul - Katie Hallahan 💜 Always on My Mind - Kelsey Painter 🌈 Interstellar MegaChef - Lavanya Lakshminarayan

❤️ Don't Break Character - Jules Landry 🧡 Rani Choudhury Must Die - Adiba Jaigirdar 💛 Remnants of Filth: Yuwu - Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou 💚 Sugar, Spice, and Christmas Nice - Anne Hagan 💙 The Wishing Tree - Barbara Winkes 💜 Love on Moonlight Lake - Adriana Sargent ❤️ Mistletoe Motel - Lise Gold 🧡 The Royal They - KJ Sinclair 💛 My So-Called Family - Gia Gordon 💙 Frosted by the Girl Next Door - Aurora Rey & Jaime Clevenger 💜 The Star-Crossed Empire - Maya Darjani 🌈 A Hard Fit - Jennifer Moffatt

❤️ The Sacred Heart Motel - Grace Kwan 🧡 Leap - Simina Popescu 💛 I Dare You - Regena Mercy 💚 Love Lessons - Mary Ellen Capek 💙 Afterglow - Emily Antoinette 💜 In the Back Row With You - Natasha West ❤️ Make Room for Love - Darcy Liao 🧡 Here Goes Nothing - Emma K. Ohland Just for the Holidays - Micah Carver

❤️ Cookies, Candles, and Cute Butts for Christmas - Cameron D. James & Cali Kitsu 🧡 Objects in Mirror - N.W. Downs 💛 Sleigh Bells Ring - Alyson Root 💚 Real Tree / Fake Boyfriend - Ree Thomas 💙 Out of the Storm - Logan Sage Adams 💜 Hungry Heart - Jem Milton ❤️ A Wild and Ruined Song - Ashley Shuttleworth 🧡 Beneath Her Power - Margaux Fox 💛 Thanks for Listening - Molly Horan 🌈 The Lotus Empire - Tasha Suri

❤️ Naughty November - Anthology 🧡 Hearts and Stars - Phoenix Kathryn 💛 Guarding Her Gangster Queen - Persephone Black 💚 The Shadow Spinner - Eric Kao 💙 Black, Queer, and Untold - Jon Key 💜 Hall of Shadows - Mariah Stillbrook ❤️ The Last Hour Between Worlds - Melissa Caruso 🧡 A Crimson Covenant - Aimee Donnellan 💛 Isaac - Curtis Garner 💙 Vineyard Dreams - Carol Wyatt 💜 Kiss of Death - Bryony Rosehurst 🌈 The Many Mistakes of Amy Love - RA Hunter

❤️ Accidentally in Love - Kimberly Cooper Griffin 🧡 Unwrapped - D. Jackson Leigh 💛 Hot Honey Love - Nan Campbell 💚 Havoc for the Holidays - Jay Leigh 💙 London - Patricia Evans 💜 Fatal Foul Play - David S. Pederson ❤️ The Gift of Us - Abigail Taylor 🧡 Upon the Midnight Queer - 'Nathan Burgoine 💛 The Christmas Pic - Rena Sapon-White & Ella Schaefer 💙 Seducing Scylla - Lex Logan 💜 Fated Winds and Promising Seas - Rose Black 🌈 A Surprise For The Holidays - Anna Sparrows

❤️ Immortal Hunger - KL Bone 🧡 Love and Loyalty - Emily Hayes 💛 A Kingdom of Lies - Ben Alderson 💚 Christmas Dreams - Carol Wyatt 💙 Wrecked for the Holidays - Kerry Kilpatrick ❤️ Not for the Faint of Heart - Lex Croucher 🧡 Phoenix Found - T.J. Nichols 💛 Room for Two - Rochelle Wolf 💙 The Long Winter of Miðgarðr - Edale Lan 💜 A Handyman for the Holidays - Valerie Gomez 🌈 Sundown in San Ojuela - M.M. Olivas

[fytrijh156jandarma]

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