#egg you have a pile of doctors please calm down

[wiypt-writes]

Sunny Side Up

Summary: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, right? And for Mike, there’s no better way to start it than by eating his favourite thing, ever.

Pairing: Mike Weiss x Reader

Warnings: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Brief mentions of drug addiction- nothing graphic. Language!

A/N: So this was what popped into my head after seeing @imanuglywombat​ post that damned latest Sex Position as part of her downright filthy and wonderful “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “The Special Breakfast”. See here for more information. And you can totally blame @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for this one. I wasn’t gonna write it but…yeah, I did. Sorry not sorry.  I’ve tried to make the reader as non-descript and as inclusive as I can but I don’t usually do reader x fics so I apologise if it hasn’t quite hit the mark.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader.  By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Tagged my permanent tag list.

Main Masterlist

********

“No, that’s not the same, at all.” Mike’s voice drifted up the hallway of you house as you closed the door behind you, shutting out the bitter January wind that has descended over Dover. “Yeah, well they signed up to the terms so....”

You glanced at your watch, it wasn’t even seven-AM yet and he was already on to someone about the current case he was working. But then, that was Mike all over. An addict, only now you were glad to say the only thing flooding his system was adrenaline and passion for his work.

You hung your jacket up on the pegs by the door, unwrapped your woollen scarf from round your neck and placed that over the hook above your jacket and then reached down to unzip you boots, before toeing them off. Your sock clad feet padded down the wooden floor of the hall towards the kitchen and you walked in to see Mike was bent over a file on the island in the middle, already dressed for the office.

“Clause ninety-one, paragraph twenty, sub-bullet two. Yup. We’ll present that to them today, give them chance to respond.” He paused for a moment, his head turning to you, a warm smile spreading across his face as you leaned over for a quick peck before you headed to the fridge for a soda. “Yeah. Okay, no problem, see you about half eight.”

With that he placed the cordless phone down and turned to face you.

“Morning, Baby.” He grinned, before he nodded to the Diet Coke in your hand. “Interesting choice of drink for breakfast.”

“Technically it’s not my breakfast time.” You shrugged back. “More like dinner, I suppose.”

Mike chuckled as he crossed to space towards you, his hands falling to your hips before he bent down and brushed his lips against yours in a hardly there kiss. “Good shift?”

“A heart attack, car accident, two broken legs, couple of flu cases and a shit tonne of idiotic drunks, the finest Delaware has to offer.” You shrugged. “Usual shit.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Dr Y/L/N”

“Lucky for you I do, or we’d have never met.”

“And I’d be dead.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, swallowing a little. The memory of that night almost eighteen months ago was still raw. If you hadn’t stopped by at Mike’s that evening following an argument the pair of you had earlier in the day, you’d never have found him almost dead from an overdose. It had been a long road to recovery, and whilst nothing was ever proven, Mike and Paul were convinced that it was something to do with the safety needle case they had been working. Despite the fact that there was enough heroin in his system to stop his heart, Mike swore blind to you he hadn’t taken anything but a few lines that night, and there was something about the way he said it that made you believe him. And so did Paul.

The authorities never managed to prove anything, but there was one good thing to come out of it. When you had broken down and told Mike how scared you’d been that he was going to die and that you couldn’t cope anymore with the constant fear that one day he would kill himself for real, it gave Mike the final kick he needed because he didn’t want to lose you.

So he got clean. And this time he did it for good.

It wasn’t easy, for either of you. Once he was medically fit enough, Mike had been placed on a programme at a Rehab Centre, whereby he saw no one bar trained medical specialists and councillors for six weeks. It felt like the longest six weeks of your life but he did it. And when you went to pick him up, you instantly burst into tears at how different he looked, how better he looked, how healthy he looked.

The road to recovery is a long one, paved with temptations, you knew that being a Doctor. And whilst Mike knew and understood his triggers thanks to his programme, those temptations met him everywhere, especially because he knew exactly where and how to get his fix. So the pair of you agreed to take a fresh start. You traded Texas for Delaware, the State you were originally from, and you were beyond proud to be able to honestly state that Mike Weiss had been clean now for eighteen months. Well, apart from alcohol that is. But even that was enjoyed in moderation, and to be honest, you’d rather him sit at home with a glass or two of bourbon each night that sticking fuck knows what into his veins.

You cocked your head to one side as his hands flexed on your hip and he gave you a little side smile. “Sorry. Oh, hey guess who I got a call from?”

“Who?” You asked as he stepped back, grinning.

“The Alligator Farm. Snappy’s got himself a lady friend. They’re gonna send me some photos and stuff.”

You smiled, giving up that beloved alligator had been a hard sell to Mike. “That’s great.”

“Yeah. Oh and Paul was thinking of coming over with the family in the spring. I said they could stay here, I know it’ll be a squeeze but is that okay?”

“Course it is.” You reached up to cup his cheek. “It’ll be lovely to see them again.”

Mike smiled and dropped another kiss to your lips, this one slightly stronger before you pat his chest as he rest his forehead against yours.

“I need to go shower.”

“Want me to come join you?” He asked, eyebrow raised and you smiled.

“As good as that sounds there’s something else I want more.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinned, his eyes flickering down to the buttons on your blouse and you laughed.

“Calm down, Stud. I want pancakes and bacon, I don’t give a shit what time it’s supposed to be for me.”

Mike groaned as you moved away from where you’d been stood with your back to the large, stainless steel fridge and headed out of the room. He watched you go, the gently sway of your hips in your well fitted black pants made his groin twitch. He was half tempted to fuck your demands and go and jump you in the shower whether you wanted him to or not, but he’d seen the flicker your face had given when you’d described how your twelve-hour shift had gone down. Despite your blasé tone, he knew you too well and understood exactly how tired and stressed you were feeling. So, instead, he turned his attention to making breakfast.

Something he prided himself on was his cooking ability. He’d picked it up pretty fast since you’d moved here, he found it was a welcome distraction, so much so you very rarely made meals now, bar when you insisted on doing a roast which he never argued against.  Within fifteen minutes he had a stack of pancakes, bacon, eggs- sunny side up, as you preferred- all laid out on the island and ready for you to help yourself to. He’d just poured you an orange juice when you walked back into the kitchen, hair piled on your head in a messy bun, wrapped in a dressing gown and he was pleased to see you looked relaxed.

“Oh, Mikey, this looks great!” You smiled as he wrapped an arm round you, kissing your head. He watched as you helped yourself to a huge plateful before making your way over to the table and sitting down with a sigh. Mike tucked his tie into his shirt to avoid it dropping into his food and plated himself a helping up before he sat down at the place next to you, cracking his neck slightly. The pair of you chatted about the day ahead, which for you consisted of sleeping until it was time to get up for your next shift, Mike’s contained a meeting with a company who he was currently in the process of negotiating a settlement with on behalf of a client. When you’d finished, Mike made to clear away the dishes but you gently placed your hand on his arm and stood up, insisting on doing it as he’d cooked.

When you returned to the table, Mike pushed his chair back slightly and patted his knee.

“Come ‘ere.” He smiled softly and you grinned, settling yourself on his lap sideways, your arm looping round his shoulder, fingers gently playing with his suspenders. He gave a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your head, happy to simply be close to you for a moment.

“You doing okay?” You asked and he smiled, your words carrying that hidden meaning- ‘Do you want a fix, today?’

“I’m good, Babes.” He pulled back to look at you. “I promise.”

Smiling you gently placed your lips on his in a soft kiss, which soon became heated as Mike’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. He was pleased when you reciprocated, opening your mouth slightly to allow him in. He could taste the sweetness of the syrup on you from your pancakes and, as your tongue gently swirled against his, he let out a little groan from the back of his throat and he felt you smile.

“How long till you have to be in the office?” Your voice was lower than you’d intended, betraying exactly what you had in mind and Mike grinned at you, pulling back a little, as he glanced up at the clock.

“Just over forty-five minutes, why?”

You bit your lip, fingers toying once more with his suspenders which were clipped to the waistband of his light, grey trousers and sat over a maroon shirt, set off with a black tie. “Do I gotta spell it out to you, Weiss?”

“No, I just like hearing you beg.” A cheeky glint flashed in his eyes and you gave a snort.

“I do not beg.”

“Really?” He arched an eyebrow and in a swift moment he stood up, causing you to give a shriek of a giggle as he sat you on the table in front of him. “I bet,” he pushed on your shoulders causing you to rest your weight on your elbows as he loomed over you, gently reaching for the tie on your robe, “that I can have you singing my name and begging for more,” his hands made quick work of the knot and pulled it open, before his fingers slid up the front, opening it to leave you bare in front of him, “in less than five minutes flat.”

“Less than five minutes?” You looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and you smirked. “You’re so full of shit.”

He wasn’t though, you knew full well that you were the one full of shit. Mike had on many an occasion had you crying his name in less time than it took you to sing a verse of the National Anthem, and he knew it as the cocky expression on his face showed.

“Oh, Baby Girl.” He chuckled, bending over, his mouth brushing against that spot on your neck, the bristles of his short beard scratching your skin. “Have you learnt nothing, yet?”

“Only that you’re a cocky little bastard.” You tried to keep your voice level but it didn’t work. Your words came out a shaky whisper as one of his hands gently splayed on your stomach and brushed up your body to your sternum as he peppered hot, opened mouthed kisses across your collar bone, before his lips ghosted up your neck, over your chin and his mouth claimed yours in a searing kiss as his hand palmed at your breast. As he rolled your nipple between his finger and thumb you gave a moan and he smirked against your mouth.

Suddenly, he was gone from over you and you frowned, missing his sudden presence and you propped yourself up on your elbows to see him settling back in the chair by the table.

“Mike, what the-“

You were cut off as he reached over, grabbing your ass and hoisting your pelvis up, pulling you towards him. Before you could register what was going on, your legs were over his shoulders and you just caught a glimpse of his face, as he quirked an eyebrow at you, lips curled upwards in that maddeningly smug bastard grin, before his mouth was trailing up the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, Jesus.” You let out a little groan as he neared the place you now desperately wanted him and he chuckled.

“No, just me.”

“Fuck off you-“ But whatever it was you were going to call him flew from your mind as his tongue licked up your sex, and grazed against your clit, teasing it with quick, hardly there flicks which, you were ashamed to say, had you riled up something feral. His hands palmed at your ass, his fingers curling round the outside of your thighs as he quickened his movements, his mouth expertly devouring you, tongue flicking into your entrance as his lips circled that sensitive nub, giving a suck that made you cry out, your back arching off the table, pushing yourself further onto his face.

Mike let out a chuckle which vibrated exquisitely against you and you gasped again, your hands slapping onto the cool surface of the table, fingernails feeling the grain of the wood as he upped his efforts dramatically, lips and tongue teasing you in a way that was so delectable it was teetering along that fine line between pain and pleasure. His mouth expertly devoured every inch of you, from your inner and outer pussy lips to the depths of your walls, tongue fucking you like you he was starving, despite the breakfast the pair of you had eaten moments ago.

“Fuck, Mike, I need…” Your voice was croaky, the words sounded far off as they bounced around your lust addled brain and once again he chuckled.

“I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah you arrogant sh-oooh fuck!” You cried as he gently nipped your clit. “Shit!”

You were willing yourself to remain grounded, wanting to prove him wrong but you couldn’t. You couldn’t fight the urge you felt to ride over the edge which was building like a fire inside you. When his mouth was over you completely once more, tongue deep, you felt him move one of his hands and his thumb pressed against your clit, before the pressure eased off and his tongue slipped away.

"Okay, okay you win, Mike, please for the love of God!” You groaned and with a final, maddeningly smug chuckle he dove back in, only this time when you felt your orgasm brewing he didn’t stop. One of your hands flew to his hair, pulling lightly on his soft, spiky strands and he gave a growl as you tugged, his efforts doubling once more as his beard scratched against your sensitive pussy and inner thighs. The coil in your belly was tightening, your entire body quivered and with a final flick of his tongue you gave a cry as your orgasm crashed over you. Your toes curled into his back just below his shoulders, your own back arched as your walls clamped down over nothing, the room fading out as everything went silent and the lights erupted in front of your eyes, your entire body feeling like you were floating.

Mike grinned, guiding you through your release before he stood up, pulling you further to the end of the table as he undid the flies on his trousers, freeing his painfully hard erection. The swollen head of his dick gently swirled around your folds before he buried himself inside you, groaning as he felt you fluttering around him in the after throes of your orgasm. You let out a low groan and finally opened your eyes, looking up at him as he pounded into you, fully clothed, those fucking suspenders that drove you wild still looped over his shoulders.  

He slid one, large hand under your back and pulled you up causing you to cry out as he drove deeper into you, his hand on the base of your back pulling you up and towards him as he dipped his head to give you a dirty, sloppy kiss whilst he rolled and thrust into you. Then His lips moved down, nipping at your neck, his breath hot on your ear as your head fell back, a low moan rumbling in his throat.

“God, I love seeing you like this, fucking wrecked all because of me.” His panted words made you groan even more as the heat in your groin was beginning to mount again. “Makes me higher than any fucking drug ever could.”

His thrusts continued, hard, deep, and you felt his dick throbbing inside you as he drove up against your spot, his lips back on yours as he kissed you hard, swallowing the pants and whimpers you were making as you began to teeter on that cliff edge again. With a deep roll of his hips you let out a low wail and came, once more, your core spasmed around him as your entire body tingled, and that was enough for him to follow you. With a powerful thrust he stiffened, a low grunt stuttering from his lips as he pulsed inside of you, his hips growing sloppy before they stopped completely. His chest heaving, he pressed his forehead to yours, the pair of you gasping for breath as you came down from your high.

“Shit, Mike.” You managed to stutter as he grinned, his lips meeting yours in a soft peck. “That was…”

“Yeah, I was pretty good.” He chuckled and you slapped his arm as he moved and pulled out of you. You straightened your robe and stood up, wincing as you felt his release trickled down your inner thigh.

“I need another shower.” You grumbled, before you glanced at his crotch, the damp patch where he’d pressed against you was clear as day. “And you should probably change your trousers.”

Mike glanced down before his eyes met you, and he shrugged. “Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll go into the office like this and then every time I see it I’ll be reminded exactly what a damned good breakfast I had this morning.”

You blinked before you shook your head, scoffing. “You’re gross.”

He laughed. “You love it, Sweetheart.”

“I love you.” You corrected, your hands sliding up over his shoulders and he smiled, a pure, innocent smile that made him look like a schoolboy before he took your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, pulling away, his nose bumping against yours.

“I love you too.” He whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “Now go, before I decide to play hooky for the day.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Weiss.” You smirked, before with one final quick peck you left the room.

Mike watched you go, before he ran his hands through his hair and turned to glance around the kitchen, his eyes falling to the table he’d just fucked you senseless on.

He should probably clean that before he went to work…

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

HOLY HELLO Sketchy friends, followers, and fans! It's that time again, time for...

SHIPPY SATURDAY!

The heck is happening here? Here's an FAQ~ Wanna support the event? Here's my Ko-fi!

That's right, it's FINALLY the last Saturday of the month... and I've decided it's high time our Quotable prompt evolved into a Dialog prompt! This is gonna work a lot like previous Quote prompts, but with an extra twist, so please make sure you read the guidelines for a valid request before sending in!

ONWARDS!

To make a VALID Shippy Saturday request, please send me the following in an ASK to my ASKBOX:

The COUPLE you'd like me to sketch up ---- OC? Heck yes! Canon? Hell yeah! All characters welcome, so long as they're from Fallout ---- OC x OC? Cool! Canon x Canon? SWEET! OC x Canon? DAMN RIGHT.

The NUMBER of the dialog snippet you'd like me to art them saying ---- Got more than one favorite? You may list up to THREE in your ask, in order of preference, to help the artist avoid repeats <3 ---- Still can't pick? Send in 'Dealer's Choice!' and the artist will pick one for you.... oooor possibly make up some fresh dialog on the spot ;3

What KIND OF RELATIONSHIP your couple has with each other ---- Romantic? Platonic? Professional? Familial? Rivals? Neighbors? Despite it's name, Shippy Saturday is about all kinds of human connections, not just the romantic ones! ---- Is your couple part of a larger OT3 or poly group? Tell me who else is part of the relationship; they probably won't get arted, but they might add their two cents to the scene from off-frame XD

IF YOU'RE SENDING IN AN OC!! ---- Send your request ask FIRST, without reference information ---- THEN send your OC's reference information to me via my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have any reference pictures, but you can type of a written description? Great! I love working from written descriptions! :D [ No, really, I do. Give them to me :D ]

After that, you can leave all the rest to me! :D [ I.e Please do not request poses or specific actions ]

Hokay? HOKAY! With all of that out of the way, let's get onto the dialog snippets! These are taken from various things I enjoy, as well as some of my own work. These quotes have been modified to gender neutral pronouns, to remove most proper nouns, and for brevity.

[ Some of these quotes have multiple speakers! That will be shown like this! "Speaker A" -- "Speaker B" ]

"Yeah, well, I'm a victim of circumstance" -- "... I thought you called it your pecker."

"Here, you look cold."

"You are so lucky I love you." -- "Damn right."

"You know the routine." -- "Yeah! WE do all the work, YOU get all the credit!"

"I want you with me, but... I'm scared." -- "Trust me. Trust me to take care of myself." -- "I trust you, it's the rest of the world I'm terrified of!"

"No breakfast?" -- "I did it yesterday-- bologna and beans, it's your turn." -- "No... It was eggs. I did eggs... over easy." -- "The hell you did! Bologna and beans, it's your turn!"

"I like the kind of person who can handle themselves... think on their feet."

"So you were ahead of me." -- "I don't know about ahead, but I've been behind you ever since you fried those mannequins."

"Don't make me say it out loud..." -- "... I can say it first, if that'll help."

"Nooooooope... five more minutes." -- "We were together all night." -- "Didn't count... I was sleepin'."

"Well, this is very serious" -- "IT IS!" -- "You, you destroyed a door." -- "Colonel, we're talking about a test on an armored vehicle, that will carry people into combat." -- "Right, but this door is property of--" -- "The shell barely penetrated the door." -- "okay, but now it's all bent out of shape. How are you gonna get it back on its hinges?" -- "I'LL BUY THE ARMY A NEW GODDAMN DOOR!"

"Sorry, I thought... I thought you were trying to buy something I'm not selling."

"I'm busy." -- "Too busy to look up?"

"You can't kill people just because you don't agree with them." -- "You see, that was the ONE point me and the doctors could never agree upon."

"Would you ever consider having a drink with an enlisted solider?" -- "Depends... does the enlisted soldier think I need one?" -- "What are they gonna do? Kick you out?"

"Thanks" -- "No problem, anytime."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up-- one day it's gonna happen to you. Someday someone is gonna ask you, who is it? And a face is gonna jump to the front of your mind, and it's gonna completely sandbag you... I can't wait to watch!"

[to a peacefully sleeping person ] -- "Good moring, Mx. ___, this is your wake-up call. Please move your ass."

"I say we run for it" -- "Running isn't a plan, runnin's what you do when a plan fails!"

"... Normal Illinois, is that on the map?" -- "Yes, Sergeant, it is." -- "... is it normal in Normal?" -- "... Uneventful, I think, is the word."

"Now-- how many brahmin does it take to make a stampede? Is it like... three or more? Is there a minimum speed?" -- "Wish a stampede up your ass."

"I don't mind being a secret of yours."

[Right after THE BIG FUCKING KISS] ".... let's not make it a year before the next one, okay?"

"If we were serious about money, we'd quit being hired hands--" -- "Handymen! We are han-dee-men." -- "Oh whatever! We'd quit this and go find some real money."

"Please... don't go where I can't follow."

"Alone is fine! I can do alone, it's worrying after them that's got me all wound up!" -- "Have you considered that's because alone is NOT FINE and you don't wanna do it anymore?" -- "---!!"

"This is not the first time you've been here." -- "We've been down this road before, that is correct." -- "Several times, in fact." -- "I hadn't been keeping count."

"And you must be ___, I've heard all about you." -- "I deny everything."

"First time I saw you? I thought to myself, that's the kind of person BRICK WALLS jump outta the way of." -- "Figured you'd be safer behind me rather than in front of me?" -- "Damn right."

"Just keep looking at that beautiful sky; that's the sky that'll be over our roof when we're done." -- "What if we don't finish the roof? Then we can look at the sky all the time."

"Yeah, well... maybe a friend is what I need right now."

"Next thing you know the Feds will be at our door; Sorry, time to move out, Eminent Domain." -- "Down honey, down."

"Even a heat-seeking missile can miss a target." -- "... you taped so many hot-plates to the test target you could fry an egg at 20 feet, and it STILL missed by a mile."

"My dear, my darling, love of my life...." -- "What do you want?"

"What I mean to say is... you make here a better place to be. For me. Easier. Does that make sense?"

"Calm down, you make it sound like a war." -- "What do you people have against being prepared?!"

"This is not just a report, it's a deadly weapon." -- "Sir, an M-16 is a deadly weapon. A report is just a pile of paper, unless you plan to inflict a lot of extremely vicious paper cuts."

"Stupid son of a bitch, knocked himself out cold..." -- "Cold my ass, he's dead."

"Y'know, in baseball, a guy who hits .400 is consider pretty damn great." -- "In baseball the losing team isn't killed by their opponents."

"Hey... I love you. Did I tell you that today?"

This post is going online at 8 PM, June 24th, 2021, US Pacific time. The askbox will open for requests until 6 PM, June 25th, 2021, US Pacific Time. Get yours in now!

Arting will begin at 9 AM tomorrow morning, see you then! :D

-Loor

[voltagesmutter]

We’re having a baby

(Damn baby fever getting to me 😭)

Warnings: SFW, talks of inability to conceive, adoption, IFV.

Victor:

“I’m sorry Mr.Li but you have a low sperm count,”. 

It had been three months since the words from the doctor made the strongest man you know breakdown, the words ‘The chance of conceiving naturally is extremely low’ being his breaking point. You sat there, hand intertwined in his taking in the information the doctor was re-laying whilst Victor tried to regain his posture. Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, a longing look which was met by sorrow in his eyes, never had you seen Victor look so broken.

“I can’t give you the thing you want most,”, “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore”, the heart wrenching words that broke your heart as all the insecurities Victor felt came flooding out the minute you got home.

“I’m never going to leave you, never Victor please don’t say that,” Tears streaming as you clung to him, eloped in his warmth and smell of pine wood and leather, “We’ll get through this together,”. 

It was only now three months on you both sat down and considered the options the doctor had given you, carefully going over each one.

“The doctor said we can keep trying, the chances are low but not impossible,” A hopeful smile as you rubbed your thumb over his, scattered documents laying upon the table.

“I feel so useless…” The man who had conquered the business world, left feeling so vulnerable at the situation.

“But you're not, Victor just because we might not be able to conceive doesn’t change anything, we just have to look at our other options that’s all,” Giving his hand a squeeze before pressing it to your lips, trying to wipe away the hurt and guilt he was feeling. 

You’d both agreed to keep trying, Victor would be turning 30 as the year finished and if by then nothing had happened you’d look into IVF. But unfortunately as his birthday drew closer, the negative pregnancy tests didn’t change.

A few months on and you both eagerly sat waiting in the reception of the IVF clinic, Victor bouncing his knee as he often did when nervous, the grip of his hand over yours as it lay in his lap. Three weeks ago the fertilized embryo had been successfully inserted back into you, a daunting wait to find out the result now falling upon you. It had been a tiring experience for you both, the medication you had to take at first to prevent your monthly cycles, the daily hormone boosters you needed for two weeks prior to having eggs collected. The guilt Victor bared as he injected the needle into you daily, apologising every time for him being the reason you had to endure this and every time you told him you loved and that there was nothing to apologise for. The call you both had on the thursday night to tell you that the fertilization had been successful, that you could be inseminated from the following day brought you both to tears. 

“Mr and Mrs.Li, if you’d like to come through,” A friendly smile of an assistant coming out of a consultant room. You both gripped each other's hands a little tighter, a shared exchange followed by no words as the excitement, fear and anxiety coursed through both of you.

Fast forward three months, a Victor re-filled with a new source of life smiled with content to watch you enter his office. The flow of your summer dress was enough to cover the small bump forming on your stomach, your skin radiating with a glow as you practically glided through his office to his desk. 

“Here,” You beamed, holding out an envelope, “I got a copy made for you,”. A tear forming in the swell of his eyes to see the growing bean in black and white, one of the two fertilized eggs having successfully latched into your womb. Placing the photo in pride of place on his desk, beside the shiba inu doll you’d won many years ago on your first date, his heart swelling with love and pride as he gazed upon his pregnant wife. 

Lucien:

He comforted you as you sobbed, your tears soaking through the grey of his shirt, the warmth of his hand stroking your lower back in a soothing manner as he whispered calming words. The harsh reality of the doctor's words, “inhospitable uterus” being the explanation as to why you’d been unable to conceive for the last two years. The heart-breaking pile of negative pregnancy tests lying in the bathroom floor, the endless months of trying becoming less and less hopeful each time. 

“A child isn’t defined by our flesh and genetics,” His words soft as he held you close, the documents to adopt from the orphanage held in his palm, “There are so many children brought into this world just waiting to be loved,”. He’d saw the longing way you looked as young couples pushed prams through the park, the heart-broken smile you’d give to see mothers cooing over small bundles, the way you longed and dreamed of being a mother. A child would have the most beloved home with you both because Lucien knew you was born to be a mother to his child regardless of it’s flesh and blood.

And just fate would have it, the day you both attended an opening at the orphanage, a tiny baby girl merely weeks old was presented to you both. A soft cooing followed by small gurgling of noises, a tiny fist wrapping around Lucien's slender finger as you held her, the exchange glance as you looked up to meet the admiration in his eyes with tears pooling in your eyes. 

With Luciens and your reputation at the orphanage, you both spent every minute of your free time at the orphanage, a mere month later you were bringing home the little girl. Your little girl. 

“Welcome home,” You sniffled, clutching her close to you as if she would disappear if you blinked, a strong arm around your waist as Lucien held both his girls close to him.

Bonus:

“Mommy!” A light brunette boy screamed, running through the emptying offices making a straight b-line towards you.

“Tommy!” You gasp with a little laugh, holding your arms out for the small boy as he dived head first into your arms. A sense of warmth surrounding you as you held him close to you, pressing kisses to his forehead causing a giggle from the child.

“Are you doing here?” Pulling back to cup his face and place feathering kisses over his face, he squealed slightly with laughter, pawing at your hands to stop.

“We went for lunch and wanted to come see you!”.

Just as you went to reply a shrieking cry of “Tommy” rang though the office, you dropped a stern look to Tommy as if scolding him without words for running off.

“He’s here,” You yelled, putting on hand on your desk and standing up, Tommy already grasping your free hand.

“Don’t ever do that again,” A worried sigh comes from in front of you, a smile forming on both of your faces to see each other.

“Hey you,” Anna taking a few step forward and pressing a gentle kiss to you lips, “Hows our mommy doing?”.

“We’re doing just fine,” You laugh, one hand circling the growing bump of your stomach as Anna presses a hand atop of it. A whine coming from Tommy, Anna scoops him up in her arms and leans forward, the three of you letting out a little gasp to feel the small prodding of feet press against your stomach. As Tommy leans down to babble against your stomach, you and Anna share a loving gaze, silence mouthed whispers of “I love you’.

[fortuitous-juxtapositions]

Art of Deception Part 6 (Orlo x Reader)

Summary: An Orlo x Reader slow burn. You and your uncle have    just arrived in Peter III’s court from the Colonies. You uncle has    warned you of the debauchery of the court and devises a plan to keep you     safe, but the Emperor has other ideas. You find yourself thrown to  the   wolves and you must keep your secret while while fighting the  growing   feelings you have for the one person in court you who you  would tell the  secrets of the universe to if he would only ask.

Note: Anything in Italics indicates the characters are speaking English as opposed to Russian

Also available to read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25566277/chapters/63156886

The first thing you became aware of was the debilitating pain in your head that worsened each time your heart beat. You groaned, trying to regulate you breathing in effort to slow your heart rate. You had nearly lowered the speed and intensity of your pulse when you felt a sharp sting at the crook of you left arm. You fought to crack your weary eyes open, blinking a few times against the light. When your eyes finally adjusted you were greeted with the face of a man you had never met before.

His wide, startled eyes met yours for a moment before you retched you arm out of his grasp and pushed yourself against the headboard. You reached under your pillow where you had hid a knife your uncle had gifted you. You raised it at the man, pushing yourself further into the headboard as a means to steady yourself.

“Who the fuck are you?” you growled and brandished the weapon at the strange man.

“Serf!” he cried out and raised his hands. “Serf!”

Vera came rushing into the room and stopped dead still as she took in the sight before her.

“I am not a serf.” Her hands came to her hips as she glared at the man.

“Right, apologies” his hands were still in the air “can you assist? She is in hysterics.”

“Oh, I wonder why,” Vera snarked. “Poor girl just woke up to a strange man hovering over like a right creep.”

“Can you just settle her down?” he glared at the woman of a small pair of spectacles that sat perched on his nose. “I was in the middle of a phlebotomy treatment”

You quickly glanced down, noticing the for the first time the pool of blood that had started to collect on your sheets. You looked to your arm, where you had felt the sharp sting earlier to see a slowly weeping wound.

“(Y/N), love” Vera stepped forward, pushing the man out of the way. “Please, do not stab the doctor, he is the only one we have.”

She held the front of her skirts up and stepped up into the bed. You lowered the knife and she grabbed it from your hand with a wide grin.

“Oh, Lord help the man who decides to share your bed,” she winked at you and slid the knife back to it’s hiding place “one wrong move and he’ll go from stallion to gelding with a flick of your wrist.”

She helped you to the edge of the bed, a dizzying wave overtook you and the pain in your head increased.

“We must finish the treatment, then make her a drink of cocaine and juniper berries.” The man began to take a step towards you and your hand shot back towards the hidden blade. He froze and held his hands up once again.

“I think that is her subtle way of telling you to ‘fuck off,’ Chekov” you could hear the laugh in Vera’s voice.

The man sniffed and strode quickly over to a case that sat on your vanity. He grumbled to himself as he packed up several glass vials and jars before shutting the case with a resounding snap.

“Well, if she gets worse and decides to take the advice of a well-respected physician” Vera rolled her eyes and mouthed the words as he spoke them. The man glared hard at her and stomped out of the room. Vera held a finger up as a sign for you to wait until a loud bang was heard, the man having exited the apartments with a slam of the doors.

You looked down at your arm and huffed, grabbing the skirt of the ruined white underclothes that you were wearing and pressing firmly to the still seeping wound on your arm.

“Archaic” you muttered as you tried to staunch the flow of blood.

Vera sat next to you and looked you over in concern.

“Are you alright, love?” she asked as she took over the task of applying pressure from you. Your free hand came up to your forehead and rubbed at the temples.

“I don’t know… what happened?”

“Do you remember anything of last night?” her brows were furrowed.

“I remember leaving here, arriving at the dining hall and being immediately scooped up by Elizabeth,” Vera groaned, “She fed me wines and spirits. She tried to force food onto me, but I don’t think I ate much of it. Then Peter” you blanched as the memory of the Emperor forcing you to speak and dance like some trained dog surfaced. You shivered “and that was all I remember.”

The cut on your arm had stopped bleeding and Vera dropped the skirt back to your lap before sighing and running her hands through your hair.

“From what I heard, he forced you to dance with him and then began to spin you around in circles until you nearly tripped over your own feet. That is when the Empress gained his and Elizabeth’s attention, believed to be a deliberate action on her part, and you very wisely made your escape,” she started to braid the hair out of your face. “You were found a short distance from the dining hall and brought back here.”

“Found?” your head jerked over to face her; your eyes wide. “What do you mean found? Who found me?”

Vera bit her lip, “General Velementov and Count Orlo,” you groaned and flung yourself back onto the bed, not caring that you were laying across blood stained sheets. Vera’s eyes followed your movement. “The wear practically carrying you when they arrived here. I had them take you directly to this room-”

“Please, no more,” you moaned in self-pity. “If I hear any more, I fear I may throw myself out the window and be reunited with the gown you tossed out yesterday.”

“You’re being dramatic” very tsked.

“I think I am allowed to be a little dramatic” argued back. “I have just gone and made a fool of myself in front of two of the more powerful people in Orlo’s court.”

“Peter’s” Vera corrected you with a smirk. “Peter’s court.”

“… that’s what I said,” you sat up and blinked owlishly at her.

“No, you said Or-”

“Never mind,” you waved away the conversation as her smirk grew. “I have made myself vulnerable in front of two very powerful people! Whose to say they will not use this against me in the future?” you rested your head on her shoulder.

“Well, then there is nothing else for it,” she rested her head on your own. “You will have to seduce them, invite them into your bed and stab them with that miniature sword you have hidden there.”

You snorted and felt Vera grin against your head.

“And then what? Become and enemy of the state? Disguise myself as a man and runaway from the palace? Catch a boat back to… actually, this might just work.” A loud bark of laughter burst from Vera’s lips and you couldn’t help but chuckle along.

“Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get you some food and then a nice warm bath.”

Vera helped you stand from the bed, steadying you as you stumbled slightly, and escorted you out of the room.

“For what it’s worth,” she led you to your seat at the table were a mass of different breakfast foods were set out. “I do not think Velementov or Orlo will use last night against you.” She piled a plate with eggs, fruit and a breakfast bread. “They both seemed rather distraught at your condition. I practically had to shove the Count out of the door.”

______

You sat in the window seat, having been fed, cleaned, and dressed, the memories of last night had started to fade. The book you had been reading sat on your lap, while your face was turned to the open window, the breeze ruffling your hair as you closed your eyes and soaked in the sun.

A throat cleared.

“Lady (Y/N),” your slowly opened your eyes as Vera spoke your name. Turning, your eyes fell upon the familiar dark-haired man that stood beside her. You felt your heart speed up “Count Orlo is here to see you.”

You nodded a greeting to the man, fighting to keep your face steady and not show the emotions that were toiling beneath the surface.

“I uh-” Orlo stuttered before taking a deep, calming breath. “I wanted to check and see how you are feeling today?”

He took a few uncertain steps towards you. You slid to the side and gestured to the spot beside you on in the window seat. He smiled nervously and took a seat. You smiled at him before dropping your head to your lap in embarrassment.

That’s when you noticed it.

The book you had been reading…

It was written in Russian.

Your hands shot to cover the title of the book, hiding it from Orlo’s sight. You glanced up and sighed in relief, his gaze was firmly on the floor and you were certain he had not seen the title of the book.

… Almost.

You shot a look over to Vera who stood to the side, near your bedroom door. She looked at you confused before you glanced down at the book before looking back to her. Her eyes widened and she realized the point you were trying to make.

“I’m sorry,” Orlo started and looked back up to you. You met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, hoping he would not take notice of the stupid little red book. “I-I should have h-helped you sooner.” He turned his back to you with a sigh of frustration.

You shot a look over to Vera who nodded to you. Making sure the Count was still turned away from you. You took the chance and threw the book to Vera, noticing too late that Vera was right within his line of sight now. You held your breath; certain you would be caught.

Orlo groaned and turned back towards you as the book flew over his head. Vera caught the book with wide eyes and quickly hid it behind her back.

“I’m such an idiot,” Orlo finally look back up to your face and you quickly molded your face into a mask of confusion. “I should have done something to help you, I’m such a dick.”

He placed his hand over his forehead, blocking your view of his eyes.

“I always balls these things up.” He brought his other hand to his head and held firm. Your mind drifted back to that first night he had escorted you back to your rooms, how he had held your small hands within his larger ones and attempted to warm them. A smile slowly started to creep its way across your face at the memory.

“I was just, so shook up after you-” he turned to you and your smile fell back to the quizzical expression before he could see it. “You hugged me.”

It was spoken in a near whisper. It was as if he were awed at the gesture, amazed that anyone would want to hug him.

“You hugged me,” he reached for your hand and you felt yourself drifting in the sea of deep, silky chocolate that matched the shades you saw in his eyes. “You hugged me.”

His eyes dropped to your hand that he held softly cradled in his own. He rubbed his thumb across the top of your fingers, and you felt what was almost an itch, a need for him to hold your hand tighter, to feel more of his skin against your own.

“You hugged me and I stood there like a fucking moron,” he dropped your hand and brought it to his head, smacking himself with the heel. “I’m such an idiot, I am not well versed with… this.”

He was again speaking his private thoughts aloud and your breathing sped up, knowing you should not be listing to what he was saying, that you should stop him from saying anything further.

You quickly grabbed the hand, stopping him from hitting himself in the head again. He remained deathly still as you pulled his hand down, brining it to his knee and holding it tight to keep him from his self-flagellation. You could hear his breathing as it started to speed up, but the rest of him remained staring at the floor. You patiently waited until you felt his hand tighten around your own as his eyes slowly met yours. The concern you had for him dropped and you felt a warm smile crossing you face. His face, screwed up in self-hatred, lightened and a smile slowly curved his cheeks upward, his eyes glistening with and unsaid emotion you couldn’t quite place. It gave you a glint of the man you had seen yesterday. The confident man that strode next to the Empress like he had always belonged there.

A lead weight dropped in your stomach as your remembered. He was the Empress’s lover.

You quickly pulled your hand from his and stood up, taking a quick step back from the man. How could you be so stupid? You could not afford to have such a powerful enemy as his lover was sure to be. You already had the Emperor and his aunt tearing at your heels, you didn’t want the whole match set!

“I’m-I’m so sorry!” Orlo quickly stood up at the same time you turned to face him. You nearly collided with him, but you both reached out to each other to steady yourselves. You gulped as you felt his warm breath blow across your face, a searing heat started where his hands had gripped your arms and spread up to your neck and cheeks. You were eye level with his chin and you couldn’t help yourself from tilting your head up. His already dark eyes seemed to darken further as they met yours. You could feel your breath start to speed up, a pressure in your chest formed and you knew, if you would just raise yourself slightly on your tip toes and press your lips to his that the pressure would explode into a glorious heat that would consume you both.

“Ahem,” Vera cleared her throat from her post by your door and you were immediately brought back to reality. You hastily stepped out of the Counts grasp, putting space between your bodies.

What were you thinking?

You weren’t thinking.

At least not with your head.

The precipice between you and the Count felt so much bigger than the two steps it would have taken him to meet you once more. You mentally begged for him to take those steps, willing him to show you that what you felt was felt by him as well.

“I… I should go,” the Count skidded around you like you diseased and dashed through the doors, not even bothering to close them completely in his rush to get away from you.

Vera quickly ran over and closed the doors firmly before turning towards you and leaning throwing her weight against the doors.

“Fuck!” You slapped your forehead and threw yourself into one of the highbacked chairs. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck!”

“Agreed.”

______

You and Vera sat drinking spirits and discussing what had transpired between you and the Count.

“Whew!” a fairly tipsy Vera exclaimed. “That was so… woah!” She took another shot. “I mean, I felt it. I really felt that, in here” she gestured sloppily to her abdomen. You groaned and raised you glass, frowning when you noticed it was empty.

“I mean… what the fuck?” You grabbed the bottle whiskey and poured another glass, nearly overfilling it in the process. “What the fuck was that?”

“Hot.” Vera refilled her vodka. “That was hot.”

“But,” you groaned and took a drink. “But, he is off limits.”

“Says who?” Vera nearly yelled. “A man who is off limits does not look at a woman the way the Count was looking at you!”

“He is!” You threw back the rest of your whiskey. “He’s fucking the Empress!” Vera gasped.

“He is?” she refilled your glass. “Well fuck.”

“Indeed!” You sighed and slunk down in your chair. “You are an idiot (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). You had to go and fall for the one person who you cannot have!”

“Love is a fucking cunt.” Vera growled as she leaned forward.

“I will simply have to keep a respectable distance from him and hope to whatever deity that is out there that the war ends soon so we can go home.” You felt tears welling up at the thought.

“Huzzah!” Vera tossed back her drink.

“Huzzah,” your voice did not match the intensity of the word, it was somber as you felt something within you crack.

You shook yourself from your misery and threw back the rest of your whiskey.

The sound of shattering glass faded into the night.

------

Taglist: @startrekkingaroundasgard​ @aryn-the-bearheart​

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicMas Day 8: Forgotten

Happy Day 8! I have been travelling all day, and plotting Forbidden Fics, so on with the show!

Today’s fic is an untitled riff on the concept of Alice being found in the woods of Forks not only having forgotten her entire life, but still human - her last solid memories are running from James. It was very much meant to be an exploration of Alice and Jasper relearning each other, and falling in love again - though it got quite dark and depressing at one point - and looking at how far Alice has come from her human years. She is absolutely unclear of the year she’s in, and whilst she has some memories of the asylum, she is also unaware of just how damaged she was before she was changed. I hope that all makes sense. 

Onwards!

--

What does she remember?

That is a loaded question. Matron asks her that every morning, as if she is a small child, whenever she can manage to talk. Her mind is gossamer thin, and tattered from shock therapy. She doesn’t remember much, but she does remember that her name is… her name is… Alice, yes.

The waking dreams she has are an illness, a terrible one, and she is mad.

Her dearest friend is Eli, the orderly. He was special, and a good man. He looks after her.

That’s what she remembers. The hunter. Eli taking her away from the asylum, wrapped in his itchy, old coat that smelt like smoke and grass. She was cold and tired and so frightened for Eli, because he is old and the hunt was strong… but he hid her away and went off to defeat the hunter.

//

This Alice is not their Alice, that is clear.

She is undeniably human, and so frail that Carlisle must resist the urge to check her immediately into the closest hospital. She speaks quietly, wringing her hands nervously. She doesn’t make eye-contact.

For Jasper, all he can think is that her eyes are blue. Blue-grey, really, a colour that nearly matches a scarf she bought back in the 50s. She has faint freckles over her nose.

//

The Cullens are very kind to me, whilst Eli has gone. Dr Cullen seems to think that Eli and I will be living with them for now on; that does make sense, I suppose, since Dr Cullen is a doctor, and I am still very ill. They had a very nice bedroom to give me, and clothing, so Eli must have written them. And Mrs Cullen was very nice when the dress she gave me was far too short and it upset me. The second one was much better, though it was black and I am sure made me look as pale as a ghost.

Mrs Cullen has cooked for me, as well – the smells are awful to a vampire, and the rest of them vanish whenever she disappears into the kitchen. She is always asking me what I like to eat, and she looked so sad when I told her I didn’t know, because the food at the asylum was so awful.

I keep away from the others, like Eli warned me. Though, Miss Rosalie was so lovely, I couldn’t believe she was real. I… I think I had a doll like her once. Her husband was a giant of a man who reminded me of the orderlies at the asylum, who seemed nice enough, but I wasn’t getting too close.

The redheaded boy seemed to like watching me a lot, but refrained from talking much. He seemed to have a lot of friends, though, as when he did speak, he was always talking about ‘Bella’ and ‘Jacob’ and ‘Seth’ and ‘Leah’.

The young blond man did not seem to be pleased I was in the house, leaving the room anytime I entered it, and when he was forced to be in my presence, he glowered at me, as if I were the most unwelcome creature in the universe.

Perhaps it should have upset me, but I am used to such glares.

Dr Cullen insisted that I spend a lot of time resting quietly in my room, though he allowed me to sit in the garden for a little while each day, and there was a never-ending supply of books, which was wonderful. I spend a lot of time attempting to pen letters to Eli, though my hands were still quite shaky, and my handwriting abysmal. My drawings moreso. I cried about it a little, when I was in my room, but I should be very grateful – my alternative to this lovely place was death.

//

My bedroom remained a mystery. Mrs Cullen assured me that it was mine, and I adored everything about it – the way the light filled the room every morning, to the dandelion lamp on the nightstand, to the bed with the silk headboard and piles of pillows. Mrs Cullen was always worried I was cold, bringing me as many pillows and blankets as I wished for.

But, I wondered if perhaps this room wasn’t intended for me. Mrs Cullen had filled the dresser with my clothing, and apologised, explaining the closet was used as storage, and I shouldn’t go through it until she had some time to clear it out. I had peeked, just once, and found it full of boxes and clothing. The clothing! I had never seen so many dresses! Most of them had been terribly short, but there had been every colour and fabric. I couldn’t imagine leaving behind so many beautiful things.

There were spaces in the bookcase as well, as if several editions had been pulled out in a hurry.

And I had found a necklace that had been left on the window sill, behind the curtain – a thin silver chain, with a glass teardrop on the end. It was lovely, and clearly beloved – the initials had been rubbed off the clasp, as had the engraving around the setting.

I had simply left it on the dresser and never asked, even when it vanished without mention.

It wasn’t the only mystery. I had noticed that I was kept out of many of the rooms of the house – my meals were served to me on trays or in the dining room. I was allowed in the garden or in my room.

But who am I to criticise their hospitality? Perhaps they keep things in this house that are not fit for human eyes.

//

Today, a man arrived. A policeman, though his uniform was quite odd. He looked quite stern, and when Mrs Cullen went to greet him, I disappeared back to the dining room to finish my breakfast.

Mrs Cullen is determined to discover my ‘favourite’ foods at every meal; I don’t have the heart to tell her after the ‘soups’ and ‘porridges’ of the hospital, every food is my favourite. Today, it is eggs that are like little yellow clouds.

“Alice!” the policeman sees me there and he smiles, but looks confused for a moment.

My glass of orange juice slips from my fingers and all I can think is that he is looking for me, the hospital has searched for me and they will drag me back to that dark, dim little cell, and I’ll be without Eli this time.

I know I am crying and screaming, though it sounds quite feeble to my own ears, and Mrs Cullen is trying to calm me, and the policeman looks bewildered, and the redheaded boy – Edward – is there and trying to fix everything.

“She thinks Charlie is going to take her back,” he keeps saying. “Get Jasper down here to calm her down.”

I must look a fright, my hair has fallen around my face, and there is orange juice spilt all over my dress and Mrs Cullen’s floor and there is glass everywhere.

“Carlisle left some sedatives,” Miss Rosalie says finally, looking rather stunned. Everyone looks rather pained but finally Edward nods.

And then I am calm.

I slump to the floor, my arms wrapped around myself. I am still frightened, my heart pounding, but I am calm.

“Charlie is a friend,” Mrs Cullen is telling me soothingly, smoothing my hair from my face. “No one is going to take you anywhere you don’t want to go, we promise.”

The calm fades into grief, and I fling my arms around her neck and sob like a child and beg for someone to fetch Eli for me.

//

They sit me down in the lounge room, all of them watching me. Esme has an album in her lap, and looks so kind and worried. I keep checking my hair, to make sure it hasn’t come loose. It’s not really long enough to pin up well, and Miss Rosalie never pins hers up, but it feels right.

And then Dr Cullen speaks. His voice is gentle and sad and it takes a while for me to understand the words he is saying.

Eli is, most certainly, dead.

But so is the hunter, and his vile companions.

I don’t make a sound, but suddenly my cheeks are wet, and I am crying. Esme pulls me into her arms and rocks me.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m sure he was a good man,” she murmurs against my head, and ice and fire rip through my veins and Edward hisses at Esme and I pull away, my heart pounding.

I’m sure he was a good man.

“What did he look like?” I demand from Dr Cullen, my voice hard but still shaking. “What did Eli look like?”

Dr Cullen looks startled and Esme is realising her mistake and I am realising that no one here has ever met Eli before. That I was never entrusted to these vampires by him.

Edward is just shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, Alice, but I never met Eli in person,” Dr Cullen says.

I let out a little moan, and wonder what comes next. A runaway girl in a borrowed dress.

Truly, how many times in my life shall I be left with nothing?

Perhaps I should have left the hunter to his meal and his pleasure. If I had known then what I do now, I would have.

My face is wet, and the collar of my sweater is sodden when I look up and spy a pair of shoes under the little console table in the entrance. They are small, small enough for me, and black, with a shiny gold toe. Worn, too, and I wonder whose they are. I wonder if that is why they took me in, to replace the ghost girl who left behind my bedroom and a closet full of clothing.

The family clearly doesn’t realise what I’m doing as I move towards the shoes. I am wearing good quality clothing – thick stockings and a grey dress with a black sweater – and now I have shoes. They cannot stop me leaving.

Well, they can. But I will fight until I am dead. I am tired of being a pawn.

Edward groans as I step into the shoes – a perfect fit, as if they were mine all along – and there is the fuzzy muttering I can never understand, and I wish they hung their coats by the door, but there is nothing for it.

Before I can open the front door, there is an iron-bar of an arm around my middle, and I look down and then up in shock, as Jasper bodily drags me away from my freedom.

“Let me go!” I squeal, trying to wriggle free. I am small enough that I could usually get out of Eli’s grasp; he would laugh and tell me I was like a cat, or a goldfish, too hard to catch. But this man, who has treated me with nothing but disdain, has compensated for my size, and I am trapped in his grasp.

“Stop it!” I shriek, and I try kicking and hitting, but it does nothing except bruise my poor limbs. Miss Rosalie’s husband is truly laughing at me, and I’m sure I look quite a sight, my eyes and face all red and wet, fighting against this ridiculous behemoth of a man. Eli was not so tall as the Cullen men, and it is most unhelpful.

“Please, let me go!” I beg, but my voice is cracking, slightly hysterical, as they discuss me. As if I am a naughty child instead of the girl they have lied to.

“You’re hurting me,” I finally offer, rather pitifully. That one always worked with Eli, and it works quite well now. The man nearly drops me, and stares at me in horror – a look that makes me feel terribly guilty, though my back does ache from being held in such a way.

“Jasper,” Edward is looking at him; he has the saddest, most heartbroken look on his face I have ever seen, and I feel awful. “It’s okay, she’s fine.”

Jasper shakes his head and turns; a second later, the door slams.

“He gets to leave,” I say grumpily, and Dr Cullen and Mrs Cullen just look stunned at what has transpired.

Within seconds, a plan is formed. Dr Cullen, Edward and Miss Rosalie’s husband go after Jasper, whom I have caused great distress to, apparently. Miss Rosalie and Mrs Cullen whisk me back upstairs, where I am brought a cup of tea, and ignore my questions about Eli, a sinking feeling in my stomach until my vision swims and I realise they have played the same terrible trick my mother used on me when the orderlies came to take me away. I tip sideways on the window seat and Mrs Cullen carries me easily to bed, and oh, I hate them all. I cannot cry or co-ordinate my arms to move or speak.

But I have learned a valuable lesson. They will be kind and take care of me, but I have no power nor choice. And if I strike out at them, I will be punished. A tiny, hysterical part of my brain is amused that their weapon of choice is pills crushed in tea when they could break me into tiny pieces, but I will be quite carefully about accepting food and drink now on.

The Cullens are not to be trusted.

//

The tea was brewed strong, because I sleep through the afternoon and night. When I wake, there is light slipping through the windows. Normally, I would attempt to wash and clothe myself before Mrs Cullen comes in, but today, I do not. I attend to my needs in the bathroom, and drink water in my cupped hands rather than risk whatever is mixed in with the glass on my nightstand.

And then I return to bed. It seems that is where they prefer me to be, so that is where I shall stay.

It is quite late, mid-morning, when Mrs Cullen ventures in with a tentative smile and a tray, and then a concerned look when I do no sit up nor greet her, still clad in yesterday’s dress. I do not respond to her greetings, and I feel like a dying animal when she finally leaves to fetch Dr Cullen.

Having the doctor in my bedroom makes me feel quite unclean, brings shadowy horrors from the asylum to the front of my mind that I try to push away as he checks my temperature and talks to me.

“Grief, especially for a beloved friend, can be overwhelming,” he says finally, smoothing my hair in a way that makes me shudder and pull away from him. “You should eat, to keep up your strength, Alice. But rest is a great healer.”

He and Mrs Cullen leave, though a plate of toast and a glass of juice is left on my nightstand, and I wonder how many pills they have crushed into the mix. I wait forty minutes before I deposit the toast and juice down the toilet – they shall never guess that I didn’t consume it myself.

I am right, of course. Mrs Cullen’s smile brightens when she sees the empty dishes. I have been good and obedient and all is well, in the Cullens’ eyes.

They might think that they can control me and win whatever terrible game this is, but I grew up in a hellish place, learnt cruelty and sneakiness from the very best at it. No matter what they think they can do to me, I’ve survived worse. And I will survive them, too.

//

It has been almost a week since the terrible altercation, and they all suspect me. I refuse to leave my room, content to take my meals up there and read. The food is discarded via the bathroom, and I drink only from the tap. My bones are returning to the surface. Hunger is an old bedmate, one I’ve known since I was a girl, and I barely notice it anymore.

//

The brunette girl looks quite rough, in her trousers and shapeless sweater. She looked quite sour, too, as we sat in the dining room.

There is little chatter as she presents the food she brought with her. Apparently, the popular opinion is that I am so grief-stricken that Mrs Cullen’s food no longer tempts me, and that this strange girl can provide something that I will eat.

The sandwich is wrapped up in paper, with stickers to keep it sealed – it gives me slightly more confidence that the food has not been tampered with, though my body is well trained in going without food, and I am full after only picking at it for a little while.

The girl – Isabella, daughter of the Policeman Charlie – doesn’t talk much, and when she does, every second word is Edward’s name. It’s strange; I’m faintly reminded of my cousins fretting over boys, a hazy memory of a conversation I had no interest in, and wondered if they ever read a book.

Since I ate, the meal is declared a success, and Isabella is encouraged to return any time - with more food, and I wonder how many conversations about Edward I shall have to sit through.

//

I rather shocked the family, today. Dr Cullen weighed me in my nightdress, and found out that I had lost another two pounds. All that good work, undone. Mrs Cullen had looked terribly sad, and Miss Rosalie had scowled.

“If you don’t start eating, we’ll take you to the hospital and they’ll force you to eat,” she practically growls at me, and I wish I could laugh in her face.

“They attach a feeding tube to your mouth, and they will tie you down,” Miss Rosalie keeps speaking. I tilt my head to the side and think of the asylum, of everything I have lived through in eight years. Nothing Miss Rosalie can tell me will scare me.

“Please, Alice, is there anything you would like to eat?” Mrs Cullen is nearly begging me. I shake my head.

“Perhaps it is time to involve professionals,” Dr Cullen says in a sad voice, and there is a loud bang from upstairs that makes me jump.

“That would be a no,” Miss Rosalie’s  husband says wryly.

//

I don’t know why, but I walk into the kitchen the next morning, and when Mrs Cullen offers to make me breakfast, I agree.

I agree to eat at least half and then sit in the garden with her.

I even agree to a cup of tea, though my hands shake something terribly when I drink it – why am I drinking it? – and I nearly drop the cup.

Mrs Cullen watches me with a tired look on her face, and smoothes my hair from my face as she takes the empty tea cup. I sit in the garden and wonder if I could vomit it all up - it sits uneasily in my stomach, as if it knew how unwilling I was to consume it. I wait for the effect, to feel sleepy or twitchy or dizzy or something.

Jasper is watching me from the doorway, with a flat look on his face. I haven’t seen him since the argument, and he doesn’t look particularly pleased to lay eyes on me, but when he sees me watching him, he moves towards Mrs Cullen’s empty seat and folds himself into it.

“I,” he begins, looking down, “I understand you’ve suffered a great loss and feel like we’ve betrayed you. And I never, ever would have allowed them to lace your tea with sedatives, had I been in the house. I’m sorry I left. But you are safe here. We want to protect you and help you. And I will explain more when you’re well again, I promise. But you must stop trying to harm yourself, Alice. You must eat. I can only stop them from sending you to hospital for so long, and I…”

I blinked at him curiously. He had stopped them? More than once? He had some sort of authority over them - over me?

“I don’t understand,” I manage.

“I know, and we’ll start explaining things soon, but for now, I need you to trust us. Eat, drink, speak with us. I will watch over all the food that is prepared, if that makes you feel better. But I cannot watch you hurt yourself like this, and I cannot leave you. I just…” He looked so sad as his gaze met mine. And something about that gaze, something about the softness of his words made me trust him. He wouldn’t have drugged the tea, wouldn’t have allowed Mrs Cullen or Miss Rosalie to do so either. He never would have hurt me or lied to me. Whomever Jasper was in this family, and to me, he was neither unkind nor cruel. 

“Okay, I’ll try,” I said in a soft voice. “As long as you tell me the truth.”

//

[imagineteller1]

Horror Night

Warnings: language, gore.

Pairings: Daryl x reader x Negan.

My heart felt heavy on my chest. I choked in every breath I took. I watched, what used to be Abraham, crushed in the floor. Everything was ringing. The tears blinding my vision.

Negan talked but I didn't pay attention, I couldn't. He was in front of Rosita, trying to get her to see the bloody bat of the man she loved. In a second, Daryl took a swing at Negan.

"Daryl! No!" I screamed and ran towards him, my hands extended in an attempt to grab him. Before I could reach him, some of Negan's men were already holding me down as well as Daryl.

"No!" Negan yelled pointing his bat at Daryl. "That- oh," he chuckled. "That is a no no. The whole thing, not one bit of that shit flies here." He now kneeled in front of me. His rough hand was pulling on my chin to look up at him. "Brave little thing here, eh?"

I pulled my face away from his grasp. He stood back up. A blonde man held Daryl's crossbow at his face.

"You want me to kill him? Right here?"

"No!" I screamed. Trashing my body in the men's grip, I kicked around.

"Hey! Hey, what part of staying quiet do you not get?" Negan turned to me with his bat.

"Please, please, don't kill him. I'm begging you." I sobbed and I felt like I couldn't breath. My breath was stuck in my throat. I felt like I was having a panic attack. When I started shaking more violently I knew I was. My limbs felt as if they weren't there. I felt heavy but at the same time lite.

I heard Negan say something and then Daryl was thrown back in line. He approached me and kneeled back down. I tried to push the men away but they just gripped tighter. "I c-an't brea-th." I stuttered.

"What did you say again, darlin'"

"I-I can't br-eath." He signalled his men and I was dropped. My palms were on the ground as I tried to calm down. My chest heaved violently as I gasped for air. I felt like I was drowning.

"Holy fucking shit, she is having an attack." He joked.

New tears reamed down my face and fell to the dirt. This could be it. I looked at Daryl. He was looking at me, I saw a tear flow down his cheek. He tried to walked towards me but he was pushed down.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Deep breaths. I could feel the oxygen make its way to my lungs. I heard Daryl's voice telling me to calm down like he had done countless of time, but in difference, he wasn't holding me this time.

After what felt like hours I opened my eyes and felt like I could breathe again.

"Still with us, doll?" Negan asked jokingly. "Both of you are so impulsive, not surprised you two are fucking." He took my face in his hand forcefully.

I glared up at him and he chuckled. "Get her back in line." Like that I was thrown in my back and dragged to where I had been kneeling before.

"Anyway... that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people, first one's free. Then what did I say, I said I would shut that shit down." He had a maniac smile on his face. "No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with, but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important." Short silence. "I need you to know me. So, back to it."

In a second Negan's bat connected with Glenn's head. I blinked a few times. Not being able to believe this was really happening. We had just lost two of the strongest men of our group in a couple of minutes. I looked at Maggie and saw her sobbing.

I looked back at Glenn. You could see his skull and one of his eyes was bulging out of its socket.

My heart was beating out of my chest and I could hear every beat thumping.

"Buddy, you still there?" Negan asked mockingly. He muttered something and then exclaimed. "You are trying to speak! But you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball just popped out. This is as gross as shit."

"Maggie I-I'll find yo-u." Glenn finally was able to mutter out.

"Oh, hell." Negan spoke. His voice was calm and serious. Like he actually felt sorry. "I can see this is hard, amiga. I am sorry. I truly am. But, I did say..." a smile now played in his lips. "No exceptions." He swinged at Glenn again. I jumped back in place.

No, no, no.

"You bunch of pussies... I'm just getting started. Lucille is thirsty." He kept hitting and hitting. There was nothing left to hit yet he kept swinging his bat. After he got tired he stepped away and joked. "She is a vampire bat."

The only sound was Negan's boot and our cries.

"What? Was the joke that bad?"

Rick looked up from his spot with a trembling yet determined look in his eyes. "I'm gonna kill you."

"What? I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up." Negan mocked.

"Not today... not tomorrow... but I'm gonna kill you."

"Jesus," Negan scoffed. "Simon, what did he have? Knife?"

"He had a hatchet."

"Hatchet?" He smiled.

"An axe."

Negan laughed. "Simon, is my right hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without 'em. A whole pile of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing. Oh, or did I-" he made a clock sound with his tongue.

Rick remained silent. Negan sighed. "Sure, yeah. Give me his axe."

Who I believed was Simon, stepped up with axe in hand and gave it to Negan. He stood up and grabbed Rick by the shoulder. "We'll be right back, maybe Rick will be with me. If not, well we can just turn these people's inside out. I mean, the ones that are left."

With that he shut the trailer's door closed and drove away.

I looked at Daryl. He was shaking. His gunshot wound could get infected with all the trauma his body was going through right now. I went to stand up but was held in place.

"I'm not gonna do anything. You have all of our weapons, what could I do?" I tried to reason with the men.

"You stay on your knees, bitch. Unless you want to end up like your friends over there." He signalled to the bodies that laid on the floor. With a thud I sat back in the ground, pulling my legs to my chest.

--

Hours had passed and the sun had come up when the trailer came back. No one came out for a couple of minutes. The air was full of tension as we hoped to see Rick still alive. When the door finally opened, Rick was pushed to the ground and Negan came out, he dragged Rick back to us.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. You even know what that little trip was about?"

Rick remained silence.

"Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay... okay."

"That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way... like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work." He paced around and then kneeled next to Rick. "So... do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah. Yes. Yes."

Patting Rick's shoulder he stood up. "Okay." He chuckled. "All right. And here it is- the grand prize game. What you do now will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads.”

Guns cocked from behind us.

"Good. Now... level with their noses, so if you have to fire..." he imitates an explosion. "It'll be a real mess."

Silence.

"Kid." He said looking at Carl. "Right here." He pointed to the ground beside Rick. Carl was frozen in place. "Kid... now." Carl took slow steps. Negan took of his belt. "You a southpaw?"

"Am I a what?"

"You a lefty?"

"No."

"Good." He smiled as he took Carl's arm and tied the belt around it, cutting the circulation. "That hurt?"

"No."

"Should. It's supposed to." He finished tying the belt. "All right. Get down on the ground, kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings." He took Carl's hat off.

Carl did as told. "Simon, you got a pen?"

"Yeah." He threw it at Negan. He took of the cap with his teeth and kneeled next to Carl.

"Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it across the forearm." We all watched in horror as Negan drew a line in Carl's arm. "There you go. Gives you a little leverage."

"Please. Please. Please don't. Please don't." Rick begged.

"Me?" Negan chuckled. "I ain't doing shit." He stood up. "Ah. Rick, I want you to take your axe... cut of your son's left arm off, right on that line. Now I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die... and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You- you don't have to do this. We understand. We understand." Michonne spoke.

"You understand. Yeah. I'm not sure Rick does." He advertido his attention back to Rick. "I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice- nothing messy, clean, forty five degrees- give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Rick this needs to happen now- chop, chop- or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."

"Please, we all understand. Rick understands. We all work for you, stop this. You don't need to prove a point because you already did." I tried. This was my family. I wasn't gonna stay quiet and not try anything. My arms pointed at the fallen bodies.

I felt a gun press against the back of my head.

"It can- it can- it can be me." Rick stuttered out. "It can be me. Y-you can do it to me. I c- I can go with- with you."

"No. This is the only way. Rick... pick up the axe." Rick didn't move. "Not making a decision is a big decision." Negan's voice raised. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing." He still didn't move. "Oh, my god." He groaned. "Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting."

"Three!"

"Please." Rick cried out. "Please. It can be me. Please!"

"Two!" He kneeled next to Rick.

"Please, don't do-" Rick sobbed and I looked away.

"This is it."

Rick screamed. I shut my eyes closed. Tears running down my cheeks.

"One!"

"Dad... just do it. Just do it." I heard Carl whisper.

I looked back at the scene.

Rick held the axe high, preparing to cut his son's arm.

"Rick." Negan stopped him. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick nodded hastily. "Speak when you're spoken to!" Negan's voice beamed making everyone jump. "You answer to me. You provide for me."

"Provide for you." Rick answered shakily.

"You belong to me, right?!"

"Right." Rick breathed heavy.

"Right. That... is the look I wanted to see." He stood up and took the axe. "We did it... all of us, together... even the dead ones on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure." He sighed. "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sake... that you get it now... that you understand how this work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you... that is over now." He chuckled.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Ah, Dwight... load him up." He signalled to Daryl who struggled in, who I suppose was Dwight's, arms.

"What are you gonna do to him?" I asked. Trying to sound as strong as I could. Negan turned to me.

"How could I forget about you?" He took long yet calming strides towards me. "You, darlin', are coming with me too."

"Why?" I sounded more panicked than I wanted to.

"Because..." he smiled. "You've got a mouth on you and I really, really like it. Keeps me on my feet. I have a proposal for you..." he waited for my name.

"Lucia."

He smiled and licked his lips. "You hear that, Lucille? They sound similar... okay, Lucia. I have this proposal for you. You come with me, be one of my wives, and I, won't kill another one of your group, for your blabbing mouth. How does that sound, hm?"

Shock was written all over my face. "It's your choice, Lucia. Either you come with me or... I kill another one of your friends. So, what will it be?" He passed his finger along my jawline. I looked at the truck where Daryl was in.

Maybe, if I went with him I could find a way to help Daryl escape. I looked around the group. I wasn't gonna let anyone else die, much less because of my fault.

"Okay." I said. Turning off all my emotions.

"Great." He smiled. "You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together." He licked his lips while scanning my body. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Simon, put her in my truck. I still have some words to say to our new pal Rick."

As Simon grabbed my arm and led me to a truck I looked back and saw Rick watching me. I gave him a slight nod with my head, telling him I had a plan.

I wrote this a some time ago but hadn’t posted it here. Requests are open ❤️

[lovetoreidd]

Baked With Love - Spencer Reid

Um, hello! This is my first fic ever. Not gonna lie, I’m a little nervous, but I already write normally and I’ve watched twelve seasons of Criminal Minds, so I’m hoping I can get Spencer Reid right. I hope you like it! I think it’s decent, very cute.

You want to make cookies with an old family recipe, but quickly learn you’re not cut out for the kitchen. Luckily, your boyfriend, Spencer Reid seems to be a natural.

Okay, so the team is mentioned in this, and it’s with Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Reid. They’re the characters that I know the best so...

Warnings: None, it’s pure fluff. Unless you should be warned for kissing?

Word Count: 1.7k

- - - - -

Growing up, your mom made the most delicious double chocolate chip cookies ever. Your whole family did. You loved the chocolate cookie, mixed with mint and chocolate chips.

When you went to college, you stayed close to home, so your mom continued to bake the cookies for you. You had always been too nervous about messing up the recipe to try making them yourself. Your mom didn’t mind. She liked baking them for you.

“(Y/N), I can’t mail you cookies. You’re going to have to bake them yourself.” lately, you’d been craving those double chocolate chip cookies. Your mom was nowhere near Virginia, where you lived after joining the BAU as the Communications Liason. JJ, a profiler on the team, was previously the Liason, and you had big shoes to fill. 

You seemed to have amazing luck, though, because you had a beautiful genius to help you get settled in. 

The two of you clicked immediately. Not to sound cliché, but it was honestly love at first sight. The minute you looked into those hazel eyes, you knew that you were going to be with him.

“Guys, this is Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N), our new Communications Liason,” your team leader, Aaron Hotchner announced. You stood in the briefing room nervously, already slightly uncomfortable being surrounded by people that were trained to pick up on every little move that you made.

Hotch went around introducing everybody. “This is our Technical Analyst, Penelope Garcia.” 

You looked at the colorful woman, who wore a kind smile and immediately found something about you to compliment. “I love your blouse! It’s a gorgeous shade of purple.”just from the two sentences and her bubbly persona, you knew that you would be friends with her.

The other introductions weren’t as memorable. There was Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, who insisted that you call her JJ, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, and then...”

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced himself to you, cutting off Hotchner. He held out his hand, which you quickly shook. The man named Derek seemed to find the action amusing.

“I thought you didn’t shake hands, Pretty Boy.”

Spencer cleared his throat, his cheeks turning pink. You had to fight off a smile while you looked up at him. He was tall, thin, his hair looked like it was the best texture to run your fingers through. “I- I uh...” he looked around, hoping someone would save him. “She carries hand sanitizer around, I’m not too worried about the germs.”

You were surprised that he noticed. The last time that you’d touched the bottle was after shaking Hotch’s hand for the first time. He must have been watching you for a while. The thought made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Yeah, I’m not really a germaphobe but I’m still not a fan.” just thinking about it made you pull the bottle out and squirt a bit of the liquid into your hands, enjoying the familiar smell. You offered the bottle to him, to which he stuck out his hand. 

The rest of the team found our entire encounter interesting. Derek stifled a laugh. “Is this how nerds flirt?” you didn’t need a mirror to know that your face was flaming. Spencer’s was too.

From that moment on, you were done for.

That was over a year ago. From then on, you felt a pull towards Spencer that you couldn’t explain. You started dating around two months after joining the team, and things were pure bliss. You’d even moved into his apartment just a few weeks ago.

“I don’t even have the recipe!” 

“No, but I know how texting works. I’ll send it to you.”

Before you could even protest, she’d hung up. You groaned, setting your phone on the arm of the couch and staring at the ceiling. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

You looked over at your boyfriend, smiling at the sight of him in sweatpants and a black t shirt instead of one of his suits, though you loved that look on him too. You were donned in old shorts and one of his old Caltech sweatshirts. “My mom is making me bake cookies because she won’t.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that make sense? She lives in a completely different state.” you shrugged, sulking. A smile tugged at his beautiful, pink lips as he sat next to you. “I can do it for you, you know.”

Immediately, you shook your head. “No! It’s my family recipe. I have to do it.”

“(Y/N), have you ever actually baked before?”

You paused. “...No. But it’s never too late to start!”

Spencer had opened his mouth to speak, but instead, your phone vibrated. You looked down at it and saw that your mother had texted you a picture of the recipe. You looked to Spencer, smiling. “You stay here, I’m gonna go make the best cookies that you’ve ever tasted!”

- - - - -

You weren’t going to be able to follow through with your promise.

The batter was lumpy, and that was a nice description of it, and it tasted incredibly bitter. Still, you shrugged it off and placed the batter onto a cookie sheet in uneven piles.

While they cooked, you snuggled up to Spencer on the couch and watched a Doctor Who rerun. It had been one of the many things that the two of you had in common.

An entire episode had finished when you both felt and heard Spencer chuckling. You wrinkled your nose, looking up at him curiously from your position on his chest. “What?”

“I think you forgot about the cookies.”

Your eyes widened and you shot off of the couch and ran to the kitchen, surprised that the smoke alarm hadn’t gone off. When you pulled the cookies out of the oven, they were almost completely black. You groaned.

“Are you sure that you don’t need some help, babe?” Spencer stood by the refrigerator, an infuriating smug look on his face. You glared at him but still pulled the recipe up on your phone for him to look over.

You sat on the edge of the counter and watched him separate the ingredients, putting certain ones together. Soon, he got to work, mixing the flour, baking soda, and salt together.

After just a few minutes of observing, you grew bored and slid off the counter to stand behind him. Your arms wrapped around from behind as you pressed your left cheek against his back. His movements stopped, and he turned around, engulfing you into his arms.

Just like always, you melted into him, a goofy smile crossing your face. “The cookies aren’t gonna make themselves.” you didn’t want to stop hugging him, but you really wanted those cookies. He rolled his eyes and released you to go back to the task at hand. You returned to your spot on the counter.

Things were going smoothly, and you couldn’t help but be jealous because of how much better his batter looked. “How do you do that?” you crossed your arms, glaring at him but not actually mad.

He shrugged, turning to you. “Baking is essentially chemistry. It’s all about mixing the right amount.” he returned to the batter, using a scoop to put almost perfectly even amounts of batter on the cookie sheet.

Afterwards, he put the sheet into the oven and brought both the whisk he had been mixing with and the scoop to the sink. “Spence, what do you think you’re doing?”

Spencer looked to you, brows furrowed. His tongue darted across his lips as his eyes traveled to the items in his hand. “Washing these?”

You placed a hand to your chest, gasping. “Baby, did you hit your head? You don’t rinse, you lick the batter off. Everyone knows that.”

He shook his head, watching as you took the scoop and licked a bit of batter off. “(Y/N), there’s raw eggs in the batter. You could get salmonella!” you swiped some batter with your finger and booped his nose. He almost immediately wiped his nose, glaring at you jokingly. You innocently went back to cleaning the scoop. 

“Just try it. Please?” you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes and a pout that he’d never been able to say no to. Reluctantly, Spencer did the same with his whisk. His eyes widened as he stared down at it. “Is it good?”

After a nod of his head, he continued licking the whisk, a small smile on his lips. “If we get salmonella, I might become an unsub looking for revenge because of the woman who wronged him.”

You rolled your eyes at his stupid joke, shrugging. “Worth it.” you dropped your scoop in the sink, he followed with the whisk, before placing his hands on your waist and pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

It was moments like that that were your favorite. Sweet, lingering kisses that somehow silently communicated the love the two of you shared. You didn’t need grand gestures or anything like that. Just each other.

A small amount of time passed before the both of you pulled away, still holding each other close. You stayed silent. The moment held an intimacy you couldn’t replicate. 

You didn’t know how long the two of you had been standing there for before Spencer let go of you. “It’s been ten minutes, babe. I need to check on the cookies.”

Without his arms around you, you felt cold, but the heat from the open oven quickly changed that. The smell of the cookies filled your nose and you grinned, even more excited. 

Spencer had to literally grab your hand to stop you from grabbing a cookie, laughter bubbling out of him. “They’re fresh out of the oven, calm down. I don’t want you to burn your hands.”

Not like you cared. In your opinion, it would have been worth it if it meant you got to try a cookie. They looked perfect. You pulled out your phone and took a picture, sending it to your mother and saying that Spencer was too good to you. She responded by telling you to marry him.

Looking over at him, you smiled. Oh, I will.

Finally, he let you pick up a cookie, admiring it. “I love you so much, Spencer.”

You took a bite from the cookie, memories from your childhood flowing through your mind. It really was perfect, baked with love and everything.

“But I might love this cookie just a little more.”

[imagine-loki]

Ragnarok

TITLE: Ragnarok CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2: The Good Doctor AUTHOR: traveling-classicist ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you take care Odin when he was homeless on Midgard (based on the deleted scene from Ragnarok). You take him in and listen his crazy stories about Asgard and Thor thinking he’s just some crazy hobo who needs help. Then one day, Thor and Loki break into your apartment looking for their father. Hela returns in your living room and insanity ensues. RATING: T

AO3 Link: Here NOTES/WARNINGS: Mentions of homelessness, drug abuse, alcoholism, and parental disownment.

————————————————————————————————–

The next morning, Theo was woken harshly by a pounding on her bedroom door.

“Theo! Theo! Get up! The frost giants are attacking Midgard again! I must call upon the armies of Asgard to help!”

Theo groaned as she sat up. She rubbed her face as Odin continued to pound on the door. “Theo, you must get up now!” At least he wasn’t violating rule number six.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming,” she said yawning. She opened the door and Odin grabbed her arms and whisked her down the hallway. “Odin, stop! You’re hurting me!”

He loosened his grip as they reached the kitchen. He pointed out the window to the snow that had piled up outside.

“Look, there, they must have attacked in the night. Thor must be in trouble if they were able to take back the Casket of Ancient Winters. I must return to Asgard to help. Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!” he shouted.

“No, no. It’s too early for shouting,” Theo said, sleepily, putting her hand on Odin’s shoulder. “Odin, there are no frost giants attacking. It’s just the snow from the storm last night, remember?”

“The storm?” he said. He looked down, trying to remember.

“Mmm-hmm. Looks like it was one hell of a storm too. There’s probably two feet of snow down there.”

“Hela?” he muttered. He put his hands on his head and rocked back and forth a moment.

“Are you alright, Odin?” Theo asked, seeing his distress.

“I need to remember but I can’t,” he said, pounding his head with his fists.

“Oh, don’t do that. It’s alright. Here, just sit down a moment. I’ll make you some breakfast. How do bagels sound?”

“Breakfast?” he asked.

“Yeah! I’m going to make a bagel. I’ve got plain, blueberry, sesame seed, marble. What would you like?”

He was breathing hard and seemed confused. “I don’t know,” he said.

“I know, I just gave you a lot of choices there. You can never go wrong with a plain bagel and some cream cheese, though,” she said as she popped two bagels into the toaster. She put on some coffee and walked over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him down.

“I’m sorry, Theo,” he said. “I am an old man and a fool.”

“Oh, no you’re not. Well, maybe you’re a little old, but you’re not a fool. Didn’t you tell me once you were fifty centuries old?”

“Yes, yes, I think I am,” he said, seeming to calm down.

“Well, sir, you’re older than dirt. Almost as old as the pyramids. I bet you’ve seen a lot in your time,” Theo joked with him.

He looked down, solemnly. “I have.”

The toaster popped. Theo made up his bagel, a banana, and a cup of coffee for him. “Here, have something to eat. It’ll cheer you up. You know I’m just joking with you, right? I don’t think you’re older than dirt,” she said, worried about his sudden solemnity. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Yes, I know,” he said. He seemed suddenly weak.

“If you’re still hungry later, I can make you up some eggs or maybe some bacon, if you’re up for it. Just let me know.”

“Alright,” he said and ate slowly.

Theo checked her emails again. She worked from home as a social media manager for several large tech businesses in New York, including Stark Industries. She enjoyed being able to work from the comfort of her apartment. She didn’t do well in office environments.

            “Odin, I need to get a bit of work done today, so I’ll be in my room for a few hours, but the door will be open if you need anything, okay? Just give a holler,” she said.

            “Work? What sort of work do you do, Theo?” he asked, seeming to come out of his funk.

            “Oh, well I work for a few big companies here in New York. I just manage their social media presence, keep an eye on their analytics, marketing, that sort of thing.”

            “Oh, is there any fighting involved?”

            “Fighting? Good Lord, no! Well, not the physical kind.”

            “What is your preferred weapon?”

            “Odin, I don’t have a preferred weapon!” Theo said, laughing, though a bit unnerved by his questions.

            “Oh, come now, sure you do! A strong lady such as yourself. My son loves the warhammer. Melee weapons are his specialty. Mine too, you know. I think he got that from me. My other son prefers magic and long-distance weapons but he’s still rather skilled, I suppose. He got that from his mother, of course.”

            “Ah,” Theo mused, trying to entertain his fantasies while she answered emails on her phone.

            “I apologize about all that business with the frost giants, earlier,” he said.

            “Oh, don’t worry about it, Odin. No harm done,” Theo said.

            “I am always concerned they will one day rise again. Especially, after what Loki did to them.”

            “Mmm-hmm,” Theo muttered, mouth full of bagel. She swallowed her last bite. “Odin, I’m going to go get some work done now. In my room. Why don’t you have a seat on the couch and read through a book? There are all kinds, like I said. Have your pick and if you need anything, I’ll be just down the hall, okay?”

            “Yes, alright,” he said, seeming rather agreeable, again.

            Theo sighed, feeling she could get some work done while he read. She went back to her room and opened her laptop. It was quiet and peaceful in the apartment for about ten minutes before Odin wandered into Theo’s room.

“Your chambers are very untidy,” he said, spooking Theo from her work.

“Odin!” she cried. “Rule number six, Odin! Please, at least knock first! Don’t sneak up on me, please!”

“Theo! I need to visit the Doctor, so I’ll be going now.”

“The doctor? What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“Sick? Oh no! I’m not a human, remember. I don’t get sick like you do. I’m going to visit the Doctor to see if he’s found out anything about Thor.”

“Is this that magician doctor you were telling me about?” Theo asked. She was not amused. Odin had told her about some crackpot ‘doctor’ he had found on Bleecker Street spouting all kinds of nonsense to him. She thought he was some nutjob crystal healer after Odin once told her he was talking about these infinity stones that could solve all the universes problems or destroy it.

Theo thought he was just another asshole looking to take advantage of an old man. What sort of medical doctor allowed an old man to go homeless after being turned out on the street by a defunct nursing home? Surely, there was something he could have done.

“Yes, Strange.”

“Yes, he is strange. Odin, it’s freezing outside, and I doubt the streets are even clear yet. Can we wait til after lunch at least?”

“Oh, alright. Can I have some whiskey?”

“I don’t have whiskey. You can have water, though.”

He grumbled and walked out of her room. She sighed and put her hands on her temples. She rolled her eyes and went back to work. She rushed through to get everything done in time to take Odin out. She did not want him going out alone. The last thing she needed was him getting lost or forgetting that he was living with her now or worse, being taken advantage of.

She hoped that by the time she finished and made him lunch, he would have forgotten about seeing his crazy doctor friend. She really did not want to go all the way downtown to see this bastard in the freezing cold.

When she had finished her work a few hours later, she emerged from room to see Odin sitting at the kitchen table with a book in his hands. His eye flitted across the pages as he read. She smiled at him.

“What are we reading?”

“Norse Mythology by this, this Neil Gaiman. Do you people really believe all this nonsense about us?”

“Ha! Well, I suppose there are still some people that believe in the Norse gods. And that is, of course, a work of fiction based on the old Norse myths. Why? Is some of that a little fantastical?”

“It’s rubbish! Is this actually popular?”

“I suppose, so. It must be, you’re nearly all the way through it!” Theo said, pointing at the book and laughing. Odin shook his head and continued reading. “What would you like to eat? I’ve got some cold cuts; we can make some sandwiches.”

“Yes, yes, that sounds fine. And maybe some beer?”

Theo rolled her eyes as she walked to the kitchen and pulled out some bread and meat and cheese for sandwiches. At least, he wasn’t asking to see that doctor anymore. She made him a sandwich and grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry.

“What if I made you some tea, instead of beer?”

“Meh, I don’t drink tea,” he grunted as she set the plate in front of him.

“Alright, well what about soda or juice or coffee or anything else?”

“What about mead? Do you have any mead?”

“Wha–? Mead? Are you some hipster brewer now?” Theo laughed. “No, I don’t have mead.”

“What sort of place are you running here? No mead?” he laughed.

“Not a hotel, you silly old fart.”

“I am not a fart, young lady,” he said.

“Sorry, my liege,” she mocked a curtsy.

“You should work on that, you know,” he retorted.

“Bite me.”

“You know, you remind me so much of my beautiful wife. She had such fire in her. I think,” he laughed to himself. “I think she passed a bit of it along to both our sons. Oh, I love her so much.”

“Aww,” Theo said. “She sounds lovely.”

            “Oh, she is,” Odin said. “I wish you could meet her. She likes you a lot.”

            “Does she?” Theo knew that his wife had passed away a long time ago. He had spoken a few times about her. “Is that Frigga?”

            “Yes, she thinks you’re very kind for taking care of an old fart like me… Agh, woman! I am not an old fart!”

            Theo could not help but sputter and laugh at Odin’s outburst. She wondered if she’d ever get tired of his weird fantasies. When she was young, she remembered her grandpa had had dementia when he was Odin’s age. He thought he was a fighter pilot in the Great War, dropping ‘bombs’ on his neighbors in the retirement home. The ‘bombs’ normally being unsolicited farts on little old ladies and grumpy old men.

During his time there, before he died, Theo had gotten used to her grandpa’s wacky stories, some of which she thought had some truth to them. He had been a fighter pilot in World War II, and he had dropped many actual bombs on people. Some of those stories he remembered rather vividly, like Odin remembered his sons and his wife.

“Well, you tell Frigga, you’re in good hands,” she replied.

She meant it. She had been preparing to take Odin in for months, even while she was helping Jacob and Emily before him. She was prepared to have Odin stay with her until… well, until the end. She wanted him to have a happy rest of his life. Not living out on the streets anymore.

“You’re a good lass, Theo,” Odin said. “Your parents are lucky.”

“Pfft, don’t tell them that,” Theo said, immediately wishing she hadn’t.

Odin looked at her questioningly. “Why not?”

“Oh, well, um, my parents and I don’t really talk anymore. They don’t want me in their life anymore. At all.”

Odin shook his head in disbelief. “Why not?”

“Um, that’s a good question,” Theo said, laughing to cover how uncomfortable she was by the topic. “We fell out a few years ago and haven’t spoken ever since. They sort of disowned me. They didn’t ‘agree’ with the choices I was making, as if they were really my choices. Anyways, we don’t talk anymore. They live upstate. Or at least, I think they still do. I send them birthday cards and Christmas cards and letters every now and then but I never get responses.”

“What sort of parents don’t want their children around?”

“Bad ones,” Theo muttered. She stood and took their plates to the kitchen, trying to end their uncomfortable conversation. She washed the dishes and put them on the rack. Odin sat in silence at the table. When she had finished with the dishes, she returned to the table and sat down.

“Theo?” Odin asked. “Do you think we could go visit the Doctor on Bleecker Street?”

Theo sighed. She looked out the window at the street below. The streets and sidewalks were rather clear now. “This man is a friend of yours?”

“Yes, he’s a good man. He’s very knowledgeable about the happenings of the universe.”

“Mmm-hmm, well, I wouldn’t want you to go by yourself, so let’s go.”

            “Are you sure this is the address?” Theo asked, teeth chattering in the cold. She looked up at the old, art deco apartment bloc with the ornate windowpane.

            “Yes, this is the one. 177A. He is the Sorcerer Supreme, so be nice,” Odin said, rather chipper even in the cold.

“What is that, like a sandwich?” Theo asked, sarcastically, laughing and rolling her eyes. Odin stepped up to the door and rang the bell.

“Hello, Doctor. It’s me, again. I’ve brought a guest. Please, don’t teleport her into space.”

            Theo turned her head slowly to face Odin, staring at him. She shook her head. Hopefully, this crackpot wasn’t home, and they could go home and get some hot chocolate. She wrapped herself up in her long scarf and coat.

            The door creaked open and a man appeared. He smiled at Odin.

            “Wong, hello, is the Doctor in?” Odin asked eagerly.

            “Hello, Odin. Yes, he is upstairs. Come in and I will go get him.”

            “Good. This is my friend, Theo. I am her roommate, now.”

            “Oh, very good. It is nice to meet you, Theo. My name is Wong,” he said, greeting Theo with a handshake.

            Theo shook his hand and smiled. “Hi,” she said.

            “Please, come in.”

            They both entered the large foyer. In front of them, a grand staircase led up to an upper floor. Wong ascended the stairs and disappeared. There were strange cases filled with artefacts, lining the walls. Theo walked up to one, examining the strange wooden item behind the glass.

            “Odin? Is this a museum?” Theo asked him.

            “Hmm, I suppose it is, of sorts. Of Midgardian magical artefacts.”

            “Magic?” Theo said, skeptically.

            “Odin!” A man’s voice rang out from the top of the stairs. He appeared in blue robes with a red cape. Theo raised a brow at him. “I have not heard from nor seen Thor. I’m sorry to disappoint you again. I will come straight to you as soon as I know anything, though. Oh—” the man broke off as he came down the stairs. Wong trailed behind him.

            “Ah, Doctor,” Odin began. “This is Theo, she is—”

            “Oh, Lord,” the doctor rolled his eyes. “Another drug addict.” He grabbed Theo’s arm.”

“Wha-? Excuse me?” Theo said, in disbelief, trying to pull away but his grip was strong.

“What is it? Heroin? Cocaine? Meth? Let me see,” he said, taking her sleeve.

            “Strange!” Wong shouted.

            He pulled up her sleeve to reveal the scars of old track marks. Silver dots and lines peppered her skins. Some still purple only just beginning to turn silver with their age. Theo gasped. The room fell eerily silent.

            “You know, they all start to look the same, these people—”

            The doctor broke off as Theo’s fist connected with his face.

“Get off me!” she shouted, putting as much force as she could into her swing.

He let go of her arm and collapsed onto the floor holding his bloodied nose. Theo was fuming. She ripped down her sleeve. Tears welled in her eyes. Her fists clenched. Her jaw tightened as she tried to find the words to rebuke this revolting piece of trash, excuse for a human at her feet. She wanted to kick him, but she knew she couldn’t.

            “You deserved that, Strange,” Wong said. “This young woman has been caring for Odin and you’ve insulted her.”

            “Indeed,” Odin butted in. “I’ve never seen such disgusting disregard for personal boundaries and I’m from another Realm. Come, Theo. We should not have come here.” Odin took her arm and started leading her towards the door.

            “Wait, Theo,” Wong said, running down the stairs and stepping over the doctor. She did not meet his eyes. “I am truly sorry for Steven’s actions. They were unwarranted. We are very grateful that someone is taking care of Odin.

“We’ve been very worried about him since we realized he was here. He is a very special case, as you surely know. We have tried to get in contact with the Avengers and SHIELD to notify them he is here, but no one is answering us. Steven has been trying to contact Thor, but he is too far for us to reach him.”

            “What are you talking about? This man is sick, and you knew and left him out on the streets? What are the Avengers or SHIELD gonna do? Blow him up? Spy on him? He needs care from a real doctor, not some moron with a mail order degree,” Theo spat and walked out the door with Odin. She raced down the sidewalk ahead of Odin until she reached the street. She felt so hot, she might melt the snow around her.

            “Theo?” Odin asked. She stopped and waited for him to catch up. She hugged herself, brushing away the tears with the back of her glove. Her breath was hot in the cold air. Her cheeks felt hot and red from the embarrassment and shame she felt. Odin walked up beside her and stood patiently.

            “I knew you had a preferred fighting style,” he said. “I just didn’t expect it to be your fists!” He laughed a little. She could tell he was trying to cheer her up. A little smile crept across her face. “Is your hand alright?” he asked.

            “Yes,” she replied, looking at her reddened knuckles. “It’s fine. I’m sure I’ve had worse. I’m sure I’ve punched worse. That guy’s a real ass, Odin. He wasn’t even nice to you. He was so dismissive. I don’t think he’s looking out for you, I really don’t.”

            “Mmm, perhaps you’re right. We won’t be returning here.”

            “I’d much rather take you to see a real doctor,” Theo began.

            “Oh no, I don’t need a human doctor. I’m not ill. I was just hoping Strange knew something of Thor.”

            Theo shook her head. She would work on convincing him to see a doctor some other time, right now she wanted hot chocolate and the biggest chocolate chip cookie New York had to offer.

            “Do you like hot chocolate?” she asked Odin.

            “What’s that?”

            “Oh my God, how can you even live in my house and not know what hot chocolate is? Come on, sir. We are going to get some hot chocolate and cookies.”

            They went to Theo’s favorite hot chocolate café. It was, of course, extremely full since the weather outside was frightful but she knew the owner well and the next available table was cleared for them. She ordered her favorite hot chocolate for both of them and a plate of their fresh hot chocolate cookies.

While they waited, she felt tense. She did not want Odin to ask about what had happened. She sighed and looked out the window at the people and cars passing by outside.

“You don’t believe in the gods, do you?” Odin said.

“Hmm? What you mean like the Greek gods or the Norse gods?”

He nodded.

“No. I don’t,” she said. “But to be fair, I don’t believe in any gods. Not the old ones or the ones that are popular now. I don’t believe that there are such things.”

“Well, good. You shouldn’t because there aren’t.”

“Odin. You tell me on an almost daily basis that you’re the king of the Norse pantheon.”

“And I am. But I’m not a god.”

“You don’t make any sense.”

“I am Odin, the King of Asgard. But I am not a god.”

“Okay,” Theo said, thinking it better to agree with him than argue with him.

“Do you not believe in Thor, the Avenger?”

“I know who you’re talking about, yeah.”

“He’s my son,” Odin said.

“I… I…”

“You don’t believe me,” Odin said.

“Odin, I… It’s not that… I just… I find it hard to believe that an Avenger like Thor would put his dad in a home and then forget about him. If all this is true, why aren’t you on Asgard with him?”

Odin looked away, suddenly distraught. “I… I don’t know. I can’t remember,” he said. He put his hands on his head and started to hit himself. Theo jumped up, seeing that she had upset him.

“No, no. It’s alright, Odin,” she said, pulling his hands away from his head. “Don’t do that. It’s alright that you don’t remember right now. It’ll come to you. I’m sorry. Look, here comes our hot chocolate.”

He looked up, seemingly excited about the arrival of this new drink and food. The waiter set it on the table and rushed off to serve the next customer.

“Here,” Theo said, handing Odin his hot chocolate and the biggest chocolate chip cookie on the plate. “Give this a try. I always come here when I’m upset about something or in a bad mood or whatever. Even when it’s sweltering outside. Hot chocolate and cookies always makes me feel better.”

“Does it have alcohol in it?”

“No,” Theo laughed. “It doesn’t need alcohol. It has the next best thing: sugar!”

He took a sip and his eyebrows raised with the taste.

“Uh huh. It’s good, isn’t it?” Theo said. “It’s even better when you dip your cookie in it.” She broke her cookie in half and dunked it into the hot chocolate.

“How old are you, young lady?” Odin asked.

“Does it matter? You’re never too old for hot chocolate and cookies. Doesn’t matter if you’re my age or fifty centuries old.”

“Hmph,” he huffed, looking at his cookie.

Theo smiled. “Well, if you don’t want it, then I’ll have it,” she said, reaching across the table for his cookie.

He pulled away and gave her a steely glare. “No, it’s my cookie,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

When they had finished their hot chocolate and cookies, they started back towards the subway station. They passed by several shops along the way. Theo was getting cold again and when she was cold, she tended to get tunnel vision. Odin, on the other hand, enjoyed looking into the shop windows. He stopped suddenly, staring in at one of the shops.

At first, Theo didn’t notice and continued walking. When she glanced beside her to see her companion missing, her heart skipped a few beats. She turned around, frantically looking for him over the crowd. She stood on her toes to see over everyone’s heads and found his white hair standing close to a shop window. She pushed back through the busy sidewalk and came to stand next to him.

“What are we looking at?” she asked.

There were several large, professional photographs, hanging in the small, independent gallery. Odin was taken by a beautiful landscape photo. Tall forested mountains with a large body of water beneath.

“Where is this?” Odin asked.

“Mmm,” Theo mused, looking at the photo. “I’m not sure. Looks Scandinavian to me. Like the fjords in Norway. Let’s see, what does this little card say,” she leaned closer to the window to read the display card. “Aw, yes. It was taken in Bergen, Norway.”

“It’s beautiful. I’d like to go there someday,” he said and then lowered his head. “I don’t think I ever will.”

“Oh, don’t say that. It is a beautiful place, though isn’t it. I’d love to go hiking in those mountains. I bet the view from the top is amazing.”

“Mmm,” he said. “It reminds me of home.”

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 14: It’s All Fun and Games

The Polar Tang’s library was easily Nami’s favorite place on the submarine. For one, it was the coolest room on the whole ship as Law had put a considerable amount of resources into developing state-of-the-art climate control equipment to keep the books in good condition. Secondly, the walls were lined with shelves practically bursting with tomes on navigation, oceanography, geography, zoology, weather, history, and, of course, every type of medicine imaginable. Thirdly, it was comfortable; there were plush chairs and couches, a peaceful atmosphere, perfect lighting for reading, and a large table where she and Bepo could work on maps and other projects.

In fact, that’s exactly where the pair of navigators had been holed up over the past few days. Stacks of books on horticulture and gardening surrounded them as they furiously scribbled on sheets of graph paper, meticulously planning out the new greenhouse. With the money they’d accrued from the gala heist, Clione had managed to purchase the equipment needed for solar lights and the sprinkler system. Now it was up to Nami and Bepo to decide which plants should go where so the engineers could start the installation process. It was trickier than it sounded; due to the combination of medicinal herbs and produce, many with different watering and sunlight requirements, the room needed to be carefully mapped out for peak efficiency.

“What do you think of this layout, Nami?” Bepo asked, handing her a rough sketch. “Rough” being the key word—though there was a marked improvement over the past few months, even under Nami’s careful tutelage, his drawing skills still left much to be desired.

Despite the giant sweatdrop falling down the back of her head, Nami forced a happy grin. “It’s a good start! What corner are we putting the aloe plants in?”

“Well, they need a lot of sunlight, so I thought the west corner?”

She studied her notes carefully, a deep wrinkle forming across her brow. “Hmm, but that’s the area that also gets watered the most. According to the books, aloe needs to be watered deeply, but infrequently; otherwise it’ll rot.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, round ears drooping as he hung his head, a gloomy cloud forming around him.

“It’s ok! We can make a dry corner—a section that has a lot of sunlight, but no sprinkler system. We’ll manually water those on a strict schedule.”

He perked up at the suggestion. “Maybe we can have a chart or something next to those with specific instructions to avoid confusion? And some plastic curtains to block out the spray from the sprinklers so it stays dry?”

“Great idea!” she replied, smile much more genuine this time. With how sensitive Bepo was, she’d forced herself to adopt a more calm, motherly demeanor when working with him. He was a lot like Chopper; sweet and a little naïve but extremely intelligent in his specialized field. She wondered if perhaps, like the blue-nosed reindeer, he’d been bullied when he was young. Had people thought he was a monster, too?

“Thanks, Nami,” Bepo said, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually, the island we’re heading to has the aloe variety that Law uses—I know we’re not ready for a full greenhouse, but maybe we could pick up some fresh plants and set up one of the sunlamps in here as a tester since it’s the driest room.”

At the mention of the captain, Nami had to bite back a frustrated sigh. Law had been pretty much intolerable for the past week. She’d thought she’d seen the worst of his insomniac tendencies when he’d been working on the fertilizer, but this was so much worse. He stayed in his room practically all day, and on the rare occasion he emerged he’d been broody and snappish. Most of the crew had chalked it up to stress and lack of sleep again, but Nami could tell they were trying to hide their concern. This wasn’t a hyper fixation like the fertilizer had been—this was an obsession over something personal.

However, she dared not press the matter—Law wasn’t like Luffy or Zoro, whom she could knock over the head and nag into submission. And if his mood did have anything to do with the Amber Lead vase, she was even warier. She still distinctly remembered his rage after the gala—he’d implied that the World Government had covered up the truth that the infamous disease wasn’t contagious. Maybe he wanted the vase to prove it? To spit in the eye of those who had callously doomed an entire city?

Seeing the frown on her face, Bepo sulked. “I’m worried about him too.”

“I’m not worried about him,” she huffed, crossing her arms stubbornly.

The Mink ignored her denial. “I wish he’d get more sleep. I know he’s working on a plan, but he still needs his rest.”

“Why don’t you just drug him or something?” she asked a bit petulantly. Really, she was mostly upset that Law was needlessly troubling his crew. Didn’t he realize how much they cared about him? “There’s plenty of sedatives aboard the ship.”

“Oh no!” Bepo cried, black eyes widening in horror. “Law’d be furious if we did that! There’s too much risk involved. What if we were attacked? He’d be too out of it to fight or take care of the wounded.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she acquiesced, slumping forward and resting her chin on her crossed forearms. Chopper would probably have the same objections. Except a sleep-deprived, angry doctor wasn’t much better than a doped-up one. “Still, he needs a nap or something. He’s been acting like a toddler.”

“Careful who you call a toddler, Nami-ya,” Law’s deep voice rasped in her ear, startling a shriek from her throat as she jerked upright, nearly smacking his chin with the back of her head. “And keep your voice down—you’re in a library.”

“Oh, go to hell, Law!” she snapped, twisting around in her chair to glare up at him. “What are you skulking around for, anyway?” Not that she should really complain—he was actually out of his room, after all.

Striding past her, he perused the history section before selecting a large, faded tome. “It’s my ship—I’ll go where I please.”

“Well, how about you please go to bed?” she argued. Screw not pressing the issue—maybe she couldn’t knock him over the head like her own crew, but she could sure as hell nag, and clearly someone had to. And he wouldn’t attack her with Bepo around, right? “You don’t want to screw up someone’s medication like you did last time you were overtired, right?”

The glare he threw over his shoulder was so full of malice Nami shrank down in her chair. Though a valid point, she knew her comment had hit below the belt.

“Watch your tongue, Nami-ya, or else I’ll remove it,” he sneered. Even with the shadow his hat cast over the top half of his face, Nami could clearly see his eyes were bloodshot and the bags underneath were even darker than usual. “Getting that vase is going to take even more planning than the gala, and I’ve got less information to go on and maybe a third of the time. Even if I could calm my mind enough to sleep, I simply don’t have the time to spare.”

“Look, I know you’re the devious schemer around here, but you’re also the doctor. You of all people should know the importance of getting proper rest. If you’re that worried about your plan, I can help you; burglary is literally the reason you brought me on,” she argued, arms spread wide.

A deep frown marred his face as he shook his head. “No. After what you went through on Grimm, I want you to take it easy until we get to Atifakuto—that’s when I’ll need your help. You’re lucky I’m even letting you work on the greenhouse plans.” He glanced down at the piles of papers strewn across the table. “By the way, I want to look those over later.”

She smacked her forehead in exasperation. “Seriously? Your own plans aren’t enough to keep you occupied? You have way too much on your plate as it is. For God’s sake, just take a break and get some fucking sleep!”

Long fingers gripped the book in his hands so tightly Nami could hear the leather binding groan. “Don’t you dare give me orders on my own fucking ship, Nami-ya.”

“Captain,” Bepo interrupted quietly, voice nearly a whimper, “do you promise to at least try to get some sleep when we get to the island tomorrow? Even just a short nap? It’ll be sunny and warm and safe—maybe your mind will settle down there.”

There was a moment of tense silence as a pair of round black eyes shimmered pleadingly, desperately hoping to put an end to the argument.

“Shit. Quit being so cute,” Law muttered under his breath. Narrow shoulders heaved in a sigh. Not even the Surgeon of Death could be mad at the sweet Mink when he sounded so genuinely concerned. “I promise to try. At the very least, I’ll spend some time outside; I’m sure all this time underwater hasn’t exactly helped my vitamin D deficiency. So long as no one gets any ideas about giving me another lovely sunburn,” he quipped, scowling at the mikan-hair woman meaningfully.

Nami held up her hands in surrender. Even though he totally deserved another prank due to his prickly behavior, it was way more important that he had enough peace of mind to get in even a small amount of sleep.

Damn, she thought to herself as Law stalked out of the library. Bepo’s right; I really am worried about that idiot.

XXX

Cousteau Island was small but beautiful. By Nami’s estimation, it had been an undersea volcano that had risen up less than a hundred years ago. Shaped like a fat crescent moon, the majority of the land was covered in lush jungle and lined with smooth, sandy beaches. The surrounding ocean was nearly teal, full of tropical fish and rainbow-colored coral. Fruits like bananas, coconuts, and pineapples grew in abundance, but there didn’t appear to be much wildlife—mostly birds and sea turtles who had decided the uninhabited island was the perfect spot to lay their eggs due to a lack of predators.

“How did you guys find this place?” Nami asked Bepo, not bothering to keep the awe from her voice as they surfaced in the cove. “I’ve never heard of Cousteau Island, and it wasn’t the atlas.”

More than happy to tell the tale of their lucky discovery, her fellow navigator explained, “It’s a summer island we found when a storm blew us off course. It’s so tiny its magnetic field is hidden by Grimm’s, so it doesn’t show up on a log pose—we had to make an eternal pose to get back. It’s also surrounded by a massive reef that’ll destroy most other ships if they get close, but we found the underwater tunnel to get through. It’s completely uninhabited, so we claimed it and use it as a hideout.”

Glancing around, Nami could see the skeletal remains of what looked like a pirate ship wedged onto the rocks, along with debris scattered along the beach. They appeared to be several months old, however, so she doubted they’d be running into any castaways. “How’d it get its name?”

“Cousteau found the safe path to the island, so we let him name it,” Law interjected bluntly, though not without a hint on begrudging affection for the diver/oceanographer. “Otherwise, it would have been ‘Trafalgar Cove’.”

Nami nodded in understanding, too pleased at the possibility of mapping out a brand-new island and taking a vacation to mock him for the blatant arrogance. It seemed Law hadn’t been making empty promises when he told her the island would be much more relaxing. Now all he had to do was keep his promise about getting some sleep.

Upon landing, the crew spent the better part of the morning setting up chairs, umbrellas, a volleyball net, blankets, tables, and everything else they could think of for a fantastic day on the beach. Surprisingly, getting the bonfire and grill started was the easiest part; debris from the shipwrecked pirate ship, which seemed to mostly consist of the shattered remains of wooden crates and barrels, littered the shore, so there was no need to cut down trees. By noon, the last of the preparations were finished, and after a quick lunch, the crew split off into their own groups.

Cousteau and Crozier led Clione, Darter, Sgt. Pepper, Ajisahi, Tsunomedori, and Shiroruka to explore the jungle, promising to be back by sunset with fresh fruit, water, and the aloe Law wanted. Skua and Malamute, two of Ikkaku’s fellow engineers, elected to stay on the ship to perform some maintenance. The rest, led by Penguin and Shachi, chose to change into bathing suits so they could all enjoy some much-needed relaxation on the beach.

“Incoming!” Nami shouted, spiking the blue and yellow beach ball hard over the net, scoring the winning point for her team.

“Nice shot!” Ikkaku cheered, high-fiving her partner.

“And that’s the match!” Ermine sniggered from their spot by the grill as they cleaned the assortment fish Jude, Uni, and Seiuchi had caught for dinner, careful to keep their long brown braids free of fish guts. The cook had been thoroughly amused throughout the game—they’d never pass up the chance to watch the first and second mate get trounced by a pair of pretty ladies in swimwear. “Did you guys even score a single point?”

“Ah, shuddup,” Shachi groused as he fell back onto a nearby towel, though his displeasure at losing didn’t stop him from ogling Nami and Ikkaku’s sun-kissed bodies. Nami had elected to don a cherry red, lace-up one-piece that tantalizingly showed off her legs and cleavage. Ikkaku’s was comparatively more modest, being a sporty, black, high-neck two-piece, though the mesh across her breasts didn’t hide much.

The swimwear had been a tactical choice—the moment Penguin and Shachi had proposed a game of volleyball, the girls knew there was no better way to distract them. And with such a devious plan, they of course added on a friendly wager—losers do the winners’ cleaning duties for the next month.

“Man, they destroyed you,” Jude mocked from his chair, black bowl cut shining in the late afternoon sun.

“Like you would have done any better,” Penguin argued as he took a swig from his water bottle.

“Doesn’t matter—I’m not the one with double cleaning duty.”

“You’re all getting extra chores if you don’t quit your damn whining and let me work in peace,” a dark, irritable voice called.

Law was seated a dozen feet away from the makeshift volleyball court on a wide beach blanket, Bepo snoozing softly behind him. As promised, he’d managed to doze for a short while in the sun, but it hadn’t done much for his mood. In fact, it seemed that with that small bit of rest, he’d become even more determined to work on his plan instead of relax like his body clearly needed. So, despite the protests of his crew, he’d attempted to return to his work inside the ship.

However, the maintenance had proven noisy enough to force him back outside, stacks of books and papers in hand, and he’d sullenly plopped onto the blanket beside his navigator, resolute to get some work done despite the universe’s clear attempts to stop him.

In Nami’s opinion, he looked absurd in his black and yellow swim trunks surrounded by notebooks full of messy scribblings and huge history books. He was like a nerdy brat who’d been forced on a family vacation but opted to petulantly do homework on the beach instead of have fun.

Sure, he was a hot nerdy brat, but she could also see the signs that his obsessive planning was taking its toll on his body. The definition of his muscles was starting to fade, and he looked thinner. Tan skin appeared dull even in the bright sun, and there wasn’t enough concealer in the world to cover up his eyebags now.

“Ok, this is ridiculous,” Nami grumbled with a scowl. She squeezed the volleyball between her hands, briefly imagining it was Law’s thick skull. “Even post-catnap he’s being a grumpy bastard.”

Ducking beneath the net to stand beside her, Penguin nodded in agreement. “Normally I’d say leave him alone and let him deal with it at his own pace, but this is different.”

“He told you what we’re going after?” she asked lowly, keeping her voice down to avoid disturbing the man in question or risk him eavesdropping.

“Yeah. That’s why I’m worried.” Penguin gave her a sidelong glance. “Amber Lead’s a touchy subject with him. Think this is bad? It was way worse when we sailed the North Blue.”

“What’s his deal with it?”

“It’s not my place to say. What’s important is that we get his mind off of it. All this brooding’s just going to make his insomnia worse, and it’s completely killing the party mood.”

“Any suggestions?”

“You could give him a lap dance.”

Before anyone could blink, Penguin was on the ground, a grapefruit-sized lump throbbing on his head. “Ow! I was kidding,” he moaned.

Nami cracked her knuckles. “Got any legit suggestions?” she growled, a murderous look in her eyes.

“Leave it to me,” Shachi chimed in, getting up from his towel. His gait was determined as he marched over to his captain. Standing directly in the man’s sunlight, he waited until Law glared up at him in annoyance.

“Move.”

“Nope.”

“That’s an order.”

“Nothin’ doin’.”

“If you don’t move in the next five seconds, they’ll be using your head as the volleyball.”

“Go ahead—the rest of me will still be right here, blocking your light.”

Rubbing a hand over his frustrated face, Law half-growled, half-sighed, “What the fuck do you want?”

Shachi crossed his arms over his chest. “This is supposed to be a vacation, but you’re bringing down the whole mood. So, unless you want a mutiny on your hands, you’re gonna play the King Game with us.”

Gold eyes narrowed ominously. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Law, you’ve been a brooding pain in the ass for eight days. I get you’re dealing with a lot of shit, but if you expect us to just sit by and let you kill yourself with planning and sulking, well, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I refuse to leave things to chance,” Law snapped, gesturing towards the large pile of notes and books before him. “The plan hinges on me memorizing all of this. I don’t have time for stupid games.”

“Dude, too much stress from studying can cause brain inflammation and result in memory loss or depression. So unless you take a break, you’re more likely to forget this stuff and your plan will be ruined.”

“Please, Captain?” Bepo chimed in from behind him, black eyes once more shimmering with beseeching tears. He’d awoken at the mention of the King Game; it was one of his favorites, and there was no way he was going to let Law miss out.

Another sigh, this one more resigned as the stubborn captain massaged his temples. The combination of scientific facts and Bepo’s puppy-dog eyes was especially effective in his weakened state. “How long do I have to play?”

Shachi grinned triumphantly. “No less than thirty minutes. Come on; it’s a relaxing, easy game. Heck, you might not even end up having to do anything.”

“If that’s the case, it’ll be an even bigger waste of time.”

“Law, when have you ever considered watching us act like idiots a waste of time?”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Do you promise to leave me in peace afterward?”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” he said with a mock salute. “Now, is your grumpy ass going to join us, or are we coming to you?”

“Fine, fine,” he growled, carefully marking his place in his books and laying Kikoku across the papers so they wouldn’t blow away in the wind. Bepo hefted him to his feet despite his grumbled protests, ushering him towards the group that had formed. Jean Bart, Uni, Jude, Ermine, and Seiuchi had come to join them, plopping down onto the sandy beach in hopes of cheering up their moody captain.

“Ok,” Shachi began, clapping his hands together eagerly, “does everyone know how to play this?”

“We all draw popsicle sticks. Each stick has a number except for one that has a crown. Whoever draws the crown is the ‘King’ and can order one or two numbers to do anything they want,” Jean Bart answered bluntly.

“Within reason,” Ikkaku interjected, pointing her finger at Jude and Seiuchi. “Nothing R-rated.”

“Surprised you guys are so tame,” Nami giggled, glancing around the circle.

“Things got a little out of hand once,” Uni said vaguely while everyone else mumbled in uncomfortable agreement. “A lot of rum was involved.”

“Say no more.” Nami could easily imagine, with a crew of mostly men, just how insane the game could get under the influence of alcohol.

The warm dusting of pink that broke out across Penguin’s cheeks confirmed her suspicions. “Anything goes so long as it’s PG-13 and doesn’t cause grievous bodily harm.”

“Whatever,” Law grumbled from his spot beside Bepo, still determined to remain sour and unpleasant throughout his prescribed dose of forced fun.

Rolling his eyes at their captain’s less-than-enthused reaction, Shachi held out his fist clutching the popsicle sticks. “The sooner you start playing, the sooner we’ll let you get back to your brooding, Boss.”

The answering glare was ignored by the crew in favor of drawing a number, with Ikkaku cheering loudly, “Oh yeah! Guess who’s the King!”

“But girls can’t be kings!” Shachi teased, quickly ducking the fist he knew would be coming.

“Buddy, you’re lucky I’m not royalty—otherwise I’d have you drawn and quartered for that crap,” she snapped, but there was no real venom in her tone. If Nami had to guess, this was a joking argument they had every time. “But as your temporary ruler, I decree that numbers eight and five should do a handstand contest. First to fall loses.”

“I’m eight,” Uni stated, getting to his feet.

“And I’m five,” said Jean Bart.

“This’ll be over quick,” Ermine whispered to Nami. “If he hadn’t gone into piracy, Uni would have been a great circus acrobat. Or maybe a ninja.”

Nami stared at the mysterious Heart Pirate, impressed. Perhaps she could ask him for a few tips—balance was vital when you were a burglar.

To everyone’s surprise, though, despite Jean Bart’s massive size, he kept his balance remarkably well even on the soft sand, managing to stay up for nearly a full two minutes until finally yielding.

“Saint Charlos would regularly make me perform for him,” he explained, tone nonchalant but the tension in his shoulders betraying his discomfort. “I was basically his circus monkey.”

“Crap, I’m sorry, Jean,” Ikkaku replied, looking guilty. Even though it had been completely unintentional, bringing up the former slave’s past was generally regarded as an unspoken taboo.

He lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug, though he wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “It’s fine. At least this time I could stop when I wanted and didn’t get beaten after.”

Everyone in the circle winced. The Celestial Dragons really were a piece of work.

“Alright, next round,” Shachi changed the topic as he collected and shuffled the sticks, trying to keep the party mood from turning sour and to give Jean Bart the opportunity to step back out of the spotlight.

This time, Bepo had the luck of being King. “Uh, I order number three to scratch behind the King’s ears for a full minute,” he said shyly, tapping his claws together bashfully. “I mean, only if they want to.”

“Do I?” Nami called cheerfully, climbing to her feet and scurrying over to the cute bear. Immediately she buried her fingers in his thick fur, manicured nails scraping across Bepo’s sensitive skin in quick little flicks. The Mink immediately leaned into her touch, growling happily, and she swore she saw his foot twitch like a dog’s.

So cuuuute! Nami thought, working her hands even deeper into the white coat. And so soft! Almost as soft as Chopper! She allowed herself a brief daydream of cuddling up by a fire on a cold winter’s night, using Bepo as a pillow while Chopper lay against her legs in his reindeer form.

“That’s enough you two.” Law’s voice broke her out of her fantasy, and instinctively Nami glared at him. However, she didn’t miss the brief hint of a grin that tugged at his lips at the sight of his navigator so happy. “Bepo looks like he’s about to pass out.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Jealous?”

His face settled back in a scowl. “If I’m stuck playing this game, I’d rather not waste time watching my navigators fondle each other.”

Annoyed, Nami gave Bepo one more pointed scratch before returning to her spot. Darn. For a second, she’d thought Law might have started to relax a bit. Instead, he was stubbornly staying too grumpy to even flirt with her, and she’d lobbed him a softball!

The lots were pulled again, with Uni earning the King spot. “Number ten must sit in number one’s lap for the next three rounds.”

Ermine was the unlucky one, as Bepo gingerly lowered himself onto the cook’s lap.

“I’m putting you on a diet!” they groaned, voice muffled by the Mink’s thick fur as their legs sank deep into the sand under the added weight of a fully-grown polar bear.

“I’m sorry,” Bepo replied miserably, hanging his head.

“You’re not putting him on a diet,” Law snapped, glaring at his crushed subordinate. “Bepo’s a healthy weight for his size and species.”

Ermine didn’t dare argue. Not just because trying to do so with the ship’s doctor would be suicide, but because they didn’t have enough air in their lungs.

“Since Ermine’s a bit…indisposed at the moment, I think they should sit this one out,” Penguin stated as he collected the sticks.

“Agreed,” they wheezed.

Discarding one of the numbered sticks for later, the first mate held out his fist, prompting everyone to draw.

Nami was the lucky lady, and she gave a catlike grin as she considered her potential victims. Should she demand their wallets? No, they were wearing swimsuits, so they probably wouldn’t have them on them. Have someone kiss her feet? Whatever it was, it needed to be devious and hilarious if she wanted any chance at getting Law to enjoy himself. The man took sadistic pleasure in other peoples’ discomfort, after all.

The perfect idea came to her like a vision from God. No matter who her command was inflicted on, it would be funny, but if luck was on her side…

“Numbers two and three have to kiss each other on the lips for three seconds.”

Inwardly she cheered as, across from her, the first and second mate gaped down at their numbers in abject horror.

“You know, I used to like you,” Shachi groused while Penguin glared at her.

“Ha!” Ermine laughed weakly from under Bepo’s furry mass. “Looks like I got off easy.”

“Watch it, asshole, or I’ll take my sweet time and let you suffer!”

“Nami, please reconsider!” Penguin begged, shuddering at the mere thought of kissing his best friend. “We agreed to keep it PG-13, remember?”

The Straw Hat shrugged nonchalantly, which was heavily at odds with the evil grin etched on her face. “It’s just a peck—hardly anything scandalous.”

“A three-second peck is still three seconds too long!”

“Aww, don’t tell me you’re afraid of cooties!” Ikkaku jeered, which made Penguin blush in embarrassment.

“I’m not afraid of anything! I just have standards!” Shachi defended himself.

“Hey!” Penguin snapped, looking wholly offended. “Fucking excuse me, but standards? I’ve seen some of the women you’ve slept with, and I’m sure as hell prettier than your last one-night stand!”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, creampuff?”

“It means you can’t attract good-looking women to save your life, barnacle-face!”

Nami rolled her eyes at the childish fight and was about ready to knock them both over the heads to put an end to the argument when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

For a second, it looked like Law’s mouth had twitched upwards. It could have been a trick of the light, or he was actually amused by his friends’ obvious discomfort just as she’d planned. Not willing to let the chance to get Law back in good spirits slip away, Nami pointedly cleared her throat to catch the duo’s attention.

Clasping her hands together and batting her eyelashes, she gave her best pout. “Please, boys? For me?”

“And me?” Ikkaku joined in, mimicking Nami’s flirtatious pose.

Weak against the machinations of such beautiful women, their resolve wavered and Nami, locking eyes with Penguin, jerked her head towards his captain and gave a subtle thumbs up. Penguin seemed to catch on to her meaning, as he gave a small, resigned nod before sighing and grabbing Shachi’s head to slam their mouths together for a quick, awkward kiss.

The moment his grip loosened, Shachi jerked away, spitting and sputtering with disgust. “Oh gods! My mouth! You’ve poisoned me!”

“Believe me, I didn’t like it any more than you did, dickhead,” Penguin grumbled as he furiously wiped his lips. Taking pity on the poor man, Ikkaku passed him his water bottle, though she didn’t bother to repress her snigger when he swished a large gulp of water around his mouth before spitting it out.

Meanwhile, Nami peered at Law, hoping his sour shell had finally cracked. But while he wasn’t glaring at them all like he was plotting how to brutally murder them and hide the evidence, his expression was still far from his normal carefree smirk.

“Good to see you’re both so secure in your masculinity,” he sneered.

“Give me a break, Law,” Shachi coughed, though there was a slight hint of red in his cheeks at being called out. “She might as well have asked me to kiss my brother. My gross, ugly-ass brother.”

“Love you too, man,” Penguin replied sarcastically as he collected the lots, pointedly ignoring the rest of the crew’s sniggering.

The next two rounds, though amusing, were fairly uneventful; Jude got his feet kissed by Jean Bart, much to the larger man’s obvious disdain, and Nami, upon becoming King again, demanded a shoulder massage, which Ikkaku was all too happy to give. The rest of the men certainly had no complaints about getting to watch the two beautiful women in sexy bathing suits pamper each other, so the round lasted nearly a full five minutes without even Law interjecting to hurry them up.

In fact, Nami could feel Law’s hot gaze upon her as she arched into Ikkaku’s touch. The engineer was surprisingly good with her hands and her skilled fingers even managed to coax out a few pleased sighs from the thief’s lips as she worked at a knot of tension in her shoulders. Through hooded eyes, Nami noticed the tip of Law’s pink tongue peek out to moisten his lips as he leaned forward, resting his chin on steepled fingers as he observed the motions of Ikkaku’s fingers as they kneaded her skin.

Nami had the feeling that he was taking notes for his own fiendish use. Her suspicions were confirmed when Ikkaku managed to press down on the sensitive junction of her neck and shoulder; Law’s golden eyes practically lit up when she let out a faint, involuntary sound of delight.

The attention they were getting didn’t escape Ikkaku’s notice, either. “God, you’re all animals,” she groused, rolling her eyes as she pulled away from Nami. Patting her friend on the head, she said, “I’ll finish the job back our cabin, Nami. Away from prying eyes.”

“Sounds good to me,” she teased back despite her mild flush. She justified the sense of satisfaction she felt to the fact that, despite the show being over, some of the tension in Law’s shoulders has eased as if he’d been the one getting the massage. He hadn’t quite reached to point of relaxation, but it was clear the game was successfully beginning to distract him from his obsessive planning.

A few more rounds passed before Penguin had the good luck of becoming King. He rubbed his chin in thought as he considered his order. “Number eight has to do an impression of number one.”

“Ooo, I got eight!” Ikkaku shouted, grinning widely. A gleam of pure mischief twinkled in her brown eyes. Across from her, Law sighed, raising the stick to show he was number one.

“Remember who signs your paychecks,” he grumbled, scowl once more settling across his face.

“‘Remember who signs your paychecks’,” she repeated, voice dropping a few octaves as she smirked. Getting up, she struck a few poses, dramatically holding out her hands like Law did when he used his powers. “Room. Shambles.”

The group chuckled and sniggered around them while Law continued to glare up at the engineer as if he was trying to set her ablaze with his mind. None of them felt particularly bad about cheering Ikkaku on; considering what she’d gone through on Grimm, she was probably the only one besides Nami who could get away with a less-than-flattering impersonation of the captain. In fact, Jude and Seiuchi decided to aid her impression by getting up and switching places in the circle, gasping in mock surprise at their new positions.

Emboldened by her fellow Heart Pirates’ approval, Ikkaku melodramatically recoiled from some imaginary horror, face twisting in disgust. “Ugh, is that bread?! So help me, I’ll switch your brain and your bowels if I find so much as a crumb on my plate!”

Nami stifled a cackle behind her palm as she noticed Law’s cheeks heat up just the slightest bit. “I do not sound like that,” he scoffed, arms folded tightly across his tattooed chest.

Ikkaku donned a serious expression, mimicking his posture and frowning down at Law as if in the midst of a stern lecture. Their eyes locked, and an unspoken challenge was declared. “Ikkaku, you can’t install lasers onto the sides of the ship because they’re not yellow! I committed to this obnoxious color scheme, and damn it, you’re not going to ruin it with your cool ideas!”

“I never said that.”

“Ikkaku, you’re the most brilliant, valuable member of my crew and I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“I definitely never said that.”

“Ikkaku, you’re fired.”

“Now that I have said. Multiple times.”

Plopping down onto the sand and reclining against Bepo, she cheekily flipped her captain off. However, it seemed the ridiculousness of the situation finally broke Law, as his scowl dissolved as he chuckled and returned the gesture, admitting defeat.

Whether he was overtired or he legitimately found it funny, it didn’t matter; at last, the brooding captain was having a bit of fun.

Determined to keep his spirits up, the crew eagerly drew numbers again, each planning their own silly command. Seuichi had the honor of becoming King that round and rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Number nine has to wrestle number six.”

“In the name of every god ever dreamed up throughout history, I will make you fucking pay for this,” Jude snarled at him as Jean Bart proved that he’d drawn number nine.

“Hey, Jude, don’t be afraid,” the gunner countered with a smirk, twirling his thin mustache deviously. “I’m sure Jean Bart will go easy on you. I mean, it’s not like you had him kiss your feet recently, right?”

“Yeah,” the helmsman said menacingly, cracking his knuckles. “You’ve never done that.”

Jude stared at Law beseechingly, but the captain merely smirked and ordered, “You reap what you sow. Maybe this'll teach you to be a bit nicer to your shipmates.”

“This is gonna suck,” he muttered as he squared off against the much larger man.

It did. Jude didn’t even last ten seconds before he was put in a headlock and forced to tap out.

Next, Law drew the King stick, and that oh-so-familiar smirk finally adorned his face. “I order ten and five to worship me and declare how great I am.”

Nami gave a quiet sigh of relief that she hadn’t drawn either number. She wanted Law in a good mood, but a girl had her limits. Game or not, her literally worshiping him on her knees was the exact kind of thing he’d hold over her head for the rest of the year.

After Uni and Penguin finished extolling their captain’s virtues for a good three minutes, it was time for the next round.

“Woo, I’m the King!” Shachi cheered as he held up the stick adorned with the little crown drawing. Behind his sunglasses, he peered at the circle mischievously. Reaching into a nearby beach bag, he pulled out a small box. “Your illustrious ruler demands that number seven and number four play three rounds of the Pocky Game.”

Glancing down at her popsicle stick, Nami silently cursed her luck; the number seven was written at the top in bold, black marker. Brown eyes darted about the group, wondering who she’d have to play with until they landed on Law’s wide smirk. Silently, he turned his stick for all to see, showcasing the number four neatly printed at the top.

“Holy crap,” Shachi sniggered. He didn’t even need to see Nami’s number—her mortified expression said it all. “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

Gleeful at the unexpected vengeance, Penguin eagerly leaned forward to hand her the box. “No need to be shy, number seven. It’s just the Pocky Game—hardly anything scandalous, right?”

The navigator glared at him before heaving out a sigh. “Right,” she grumbled, grabbing the strawberry pocky and shuffling over to sit across from Law. It was for the greater good, right? They were trying to keep the grumpy captain out of his sour bubble. It was no big deal; she could always break away before their mouths got anywhere near each other.

Smug grin widening, the captain leaned in as Nami slipped the creme-covered biscuit stick between her lips. “It’s ok if you chicken out after the first bite, Nami-ya,” he teased as he gently bit down on the other end, gold eyes bright with amusement.

Fire flashed in Nami’s eyes. She might not mind being a coward in most situations, but this time, her pride was on the line.

Her righteous courage abandoned her quickly, though. The moment she felt his hot breath tickle her nose she jerked away, blushing in embarrassment as she realized there was still a good two inches of pocky dangling from Law’s mouth.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he chewed on the crunchy treat.

“Only if you’re ready to eat what’s basically a breadstick,” she countered, hoping to gross him out so he’d back down.

Law didn’t fall for her ploy. “It’s closer to a cookie, really, and those I can stomach. Especially if the prize at the end is worth it,” he replied with a leer, deliberately running his tongue along his upper lip.

Why am I even freaking out about this? Nami wondered as she pulled out another stick of pocky. If we do end up kissing, who cares? It’s just a brush of lips. Completely innocent. No worse than Shachi and Penguin’s peck. More importantly, I can’t let him psyche me out—he wants that way more than a tiny, indirect kiss.

Determination returned, she carefully balanced the thin treat between her teeth, steeling herself as Law slowly leaned in to take the other end. This time, they managed to nearly bite their way to the middle. Unfortunately, a gentle breeze blew in, causing a loose strand of Nami’s sweetly scented hair to flutter against Law’s nose. His nostrils twitched at the delicate tickling, and this time he pulled away, turning his head in anticipation of a sneeze that never came.

“Shit,” he growled, annoyed at his ill luck.

A smug smirk curled Nami’s lips. “Now who’s the one chickening out?” she teased.

“I didn’t chicken out. Or would you rather I sneeze all over your pretty face?”

“Yeah, that was one hell of a sneeze,” she replied sarcastically. She didn’t know why she was provoking him—the man was far from shy about looking for an excuse to kiss her, and her cheek basically guaranteed that he wouldn’t let her off easy in the last round.

She refused to acknowledge the tiny voice in her ear whispering that she knew damn well why she was egging him on. That she got a primal thrill sassing such a dangerous man and coming out alive when so many others couldn’t. Taunting Law was like playing with a tiger; he could rip her to shreds if she grew too careless, but he’d wouldn’t sink his claws in so long as he enjoyed the chase.

Law stuck the final stick of pocky between his teeth, beckoning her forward with a “come hither” curl of his finger. In response, Nami rested her hands on his bare knees as she leaned in, bracing herself as she wrapped her lips around the other end. Their gazes locked, and in sync, they slowly started nibbling along the sweet, crunchy stick.

The seconds dragged by as, inch by inch, their faces drew closer. Nami tensed as she felt his exhalation warm her skin, while Law’s eyes suspiciously flicked towards her hair as if daring it to interfere again. However, neither pulled away, and he pounced on the opportunity presented to him; angling his head and closing the last centimeter between them to brush his lips across hers in a chaste but teasing fashion. When Nami didn’t immediately pull away, Law tested his luck further by lightly catching her plump bottom lip between his teeth before flicking the tip of his tongue to soothe it.

The action sent tingles down Nami’s spine and she finally broke away, cheeks red and breath quickening minutely. It had been barely more than a few seconds—the kiss she’d given him at the gala had been longer—but the tension between them had made it a tempting, sizzling experience.

“So,” Law drawled, watching the Cat Thief as she shuffled back to her spot like the hungry tiger he was, “who’s up for another round?”

The pair was so focused on each other they didn’t notice Shachi and Penguin subtly low-five while Bepo and Ikkaku shared a thumbs-up.

XXX

“Seriously? We leave you alone for a few minutes and you’re back at your plans?” Nami sighed as she plopped onto the towel next to Law, eyeing the messy papers in his hands disdainfully. The King Game had ended not long ago with everyone in good spirits. Even Nami, despite her lingering embarrassment from the kiss, had managed to enjoy the final round where Jude had to serenade the crew by singing “Dr. Heart Stealer.”

“The deal was that I would play for thirty minutes and then you all would leave me in peace,” he replied, not even looking up from his notes. He’d escaped back to his makeshift workstation the moment Bepo had inadvertently caused a commotion when, tempted by the smell of fresh fish, he’d absconded with the large sea bass Ermine was preparing to grill. The rest of the crew had chased after him; some in hopes of saving their dinner, others treating it as a new game.

That left no one but Nami to confront the workaholic captain, even though she would have been happier to keep her distance for a while longer. “That deal was solely between you and Shachi as you were non-specific regarding the plurality of ‘you’. You really must be tired if you missed an important detail like that.”

He scowled, realizing that she was right but refusing to admit it. Changing tactics, Law tilted his head slightly, smirking down at her with hooded eyes. “If you’re so concerned, I’ll take another break later if you make it worth my while. Perhaps with another round of the Pocky Game?” he purred.

She flushed slightly at his suggestion but refused to let him distract her, instead turning her attention to the books before them. “You have five seconds to finish whatever you’re doing before I toss those into the ocean.”

Annoyed, he glared at her defiance before reluctantly activating his Room, teleporting the books, papers, and Kikoku safely inside the submarine. There was too much of a risk that she’d make good on her threat and destroy his work, and he also wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from cutting her to bits if she did. “That’s the last order you get to give me tonight, Nami-ya,” he grumbled. “I don’t take kindly to being bossed around.”

Rolling her eyes at his stubbornness, she leaned back on her hands, enjoying the sensation of the warm sun on her face. Honestly, he should be thanking her. Days like these were too perfect to waste studying, and the tide was coming in—his work would be ruined anyway if he didn’t get those books off the beach. “You really are such a control freak. Would it kill you to listen to the wisdom of those around you for once?”

“Are you saying you don’t get caught up in your cartography?” he challenged.

“Look, as someone who used to be forced to work nonstop without food or sleep for days on end, I fucking appreciate it when my nakama makes me take a break.”

Law grunted in reluctant acceptance, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stared out at the vibrant waves that slowly threatened to encroach his spot. “I do appreciate their concern, but they should also respect my authority as captain.”

“They do, Law,” Nami sighed, rubbing her temples, “but respect and blind obedience aren’t the same thing. You’re practically killing yourself working on those plans; are the guys supposed to just sit by and watch? And considering how…personal this all seems to be, they have even more right to be worried and tell you to take a step back.”

“Yes, it is personal—that’s why I can’t leave anything to chance. Atifakuto is known for its museums and art auctions. If I’m to blend in well enough to get my hands on that vase, I need to be well-versed on history and art throughout the four Blues.”

Ah. No wonder he’d been so intent on studying. “I get it; this is important to you, tons of preparation is needed, and a lot relies on you. But planning to the point of sleep deprivation is only going to increase your chances of messing up. You need to sleep, Law.”

“Contrary to what you might think, it’s not my work that’s been keeping me awake. I can’t sleep—insomnia’s a bitch like that. The body may crave it, but the mind has other ideas.”

“You managed to catch a nap earlier,” she argued weakly.

“Oh yes, because a brief doze in the sun makes up for nearly a week of nightmares.”

Brown eyes widened in surprise. Nightmares? Nami wondered. What kind of nightmares could the Surgeon of Death get?

Realizing he’d given her a nugget of personal information he hadn’t intended, Law’s entire expression closed off as he got to his feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Law—”

He turned towards the eastern side of the beach, the bold face of his back tattoo smiling mockingly at her as he activated his Room. “I’ll be back by sunset,” were the last words he said before he vanished, replaced by a broken, rusted metal bar.

XXX

Law wasn’t back by sunset, though the crew assured Nami that there was no reason to worry.

“Law loves to go on long, aimless walks,” Bepo said as he handed her some pineapple slices. He’d managed to eat the giant sea bass before the crew caught him, but they’d stumbled upon some ripe fruit in the process, along with a bed of oysters, so Ermine had reluctantly forgiven him. “They help clear his head when he’s got a lot on his mind or his insomnia gets bad. If we can’t get him to sleep, this is the next best thing. At least he’s not working.”

She hummed in reply, still mulling over what kind of nightmares a man like Law could be having. Were they related to Amber Lead, or was it something else? The man was a renowned sadist and didn’t seem to blink when it came to murder or torture, though admittedly the only people she’d seen him actually harm were utter scumbags.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Skua and Malamute, the engineers having at last come out of the ship. Their brows furrowed as they looked around at the small gathering, confused.

“Where is everyone?” Skua asked, taking a plate of steamed oysters.

“Probably still exploring the island,” Ermine said with a shrug.

“It’s not a big island; shouldn’t they be back by now?”

“You know Cousteau; maybe he found some pond full of weird fish or something and is making everyone document their behavior throughout the day.”

Malamute’s brow furrowed. “I’d believe that if it were just him in charge, but you’re forgetting Crozier’s with him. You know, the man who survived a forced march across an island literally made of ice and rocks? That guy doesn’t fuck around; if he says the crew will be back by sunset, they’ll be back by sunset.”

Penguin considered his words, rubbing his chin. “You’ve got a point. They might be in trouble.”

“Or they’re on their way back now,” Shachi said with a shrug, chowing down on some grilled fish Bepo hadn’t gotten to. “There aren’t even any predators on the island, and if anyone got injured, they would have called on Crozier’s mini Den Den Mushi.”

The bushes behind them rustled loudly, and Shachi jerked his head in their direction. “See? That’s probably them now. Or maybe it’s Law, and you can ask him to Scan the island for them.”

Before anyone could reply, a massive boar burst out of the jungle, squealing in fury as it barreled into the camp, knocking over tables, chairs, and umbrellas. Instinctively, Penguin grabbed a burning stick from the fire and waved the hot flame at the beast in hopes of scaring it away. However, its green eyes flashed in clear anger at the threat, and, sharp tusks gleaming in the red glow, it let out another loud squeal before charging at the first mate, showing none of the instinctive fear one would expect for the man’s primitive weapon.

Acting fast, Ikkaku tackled Penguin so the boar just missed them, the soft beach sand cushioning their impact. However, the beast didn’t stop, using its momentum to make a U-turn for another attempt on the group.

It didn’t get far, though, as Jean Bart managed to grab it mid-charge and pick it up as if it were no bigger than a corgi. As the boar squealed angrily, he chucked it up into the air, watching as it flew in a wide arch high above them before landing somewhere in the middle of the jungle.

“Where the fuck did that thing come from?” Ikkaku panted.

“The jungle, obviously,” Jude groused, helping her and Penguin to their feet.

“But boars aren’t native to the island,” Uni pointed out. “Last time we were here, only birds and turtles had managed to make this place their home. So either it washed up on shore in that shipwreck, or someone brought it here.”

Skua knelt down and studied one of the debris in the woodpile. “This looks like it could have been part of a crate. Or a cage.”

Nami remembered the metal bar Law had switched himself with. “My money’s on cages. Maybe that pirate ship was transporting animals.”

“Do you think there are more of them?” Shachi asked as he pulled a pistol out of his beach bag.

Uni peered into the shadowy trees. “Who knows? Maybe something even worse is lurking in the jungle, waiting to pick us off.”

“The last thing we need is you freaking everyone out with your ghost stories!” Ermine snapped, even as he grabbed a large carving knife to use as a machete.

Penguin frowned as the crew armed themselves with the knives and pistols they’d habitually brought along. “Ok, given the fact that we were literally just attacked by a wild animal, I say we should start looking for the others. If nothing else, if a boar was able to survive the shipwreck, then it’s possible something more dangerous did, too. There may even be human survivors.”

“Do we split up or stay together?” Jean Bart asked.

“Hmm, split up into smaller groups, but no one’s to wander the island alone. That way we all have someone watching our backs while still covering the optimal amount of ground. That work for everyone?”

“Aye-aye!” they shouted, pairing up as they headed into the dense foliage, lanterns and weapons in hand.

“I’ll catch up!” Nami called out to them, sprinting towards the small motorboats. There was no way she was going to go wandering around a jungle with so much skin exposed again; she learned her lesson after Little Garden. She also wanted to grab her Clima-Tact; Ikkaku had been modifying it that morning, so it was likely still in their quarters.

To her surprise, instead of following the others, Bepo stayed with her. “None of us should go wandering off alone, right?” he explained nervously. “And somebody should head back to the ship to call Crozier; at the very least, they need to know there’s potentially dangerous wildlife around.”

“Good thinking,” she said, climbing onto the boat and revving the engine. It only took them a few minutes to get to the submarine, but she could tell Bepo was fretting from the way he clicked his claws together. “They’ll be fine,” she assured as she scaled the side ladder onto the bottom deck.

“I hope so. Maybe they ran into Law?”

“If they did, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Bepo sighed as they stepped into the comparatively cooler interior of the submarine. “I’ll go make the call; meet me on deck in a few minutes?”

“Sure; I shouldn’t take long.” True to her word, Nami dashed to her quarters and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved top. The fabric was stifling against her skin, but it was better than risking another Keschia bite. Her hand hesitated over her Clima-Tact and holster; Ikkaku had told her she’d managed to increase the power of a few things, but they hadn’t been properly tested yet. Should she risk it? Ikkaku was good with machines and gadgets, but she wasn’t Usopp.

Couldn’t turn out any worse than the first time, she decided, recalling her battle with Ms. Doublefinger. If she could secure a dark horse victory with a weapon she’d never even used before, she could certainly manage with a modified one.

Weapon securely strapped to her leg and delicate skin protected from any prehistoric bug bites, Nami determined she was ready. However, as she trotted down the hall, she hesitated in front of Law’s quarters.

Though her trust in Law had grown to the point where she didn’t think he’d be selling Vegapunk’s weapons research, she still wanted to take a look at Harpin’s ledgers. Wanted to finally unravel the mystery as to why Jinbei had set Arlong loose in the East Blue. She’d noticed some of the research had centered around cyborgs; Franky could use that. Then there was the stuff on Kuma and the Pacifistas—if they needed to fight him again, she’d much rather know what they were up against. There was intel on Blackbeard, too; considering how he was the reason Luffy’s brother was dead, she had no doubt her captain would end up fighting him. Any information she could give him could save his life!

She’d considered just asking Law if she could look at them. Surely he’d understand her reasons; be able to appreciate her desire to plan and be prepared. But the time was never right—he was either obsessively planning and thus rather ornery and volatile, or they were in the midst of some crisis and it would slip her mind. Besides that, she still wasn’t sure why he wanted them.

The information in those books is more valuable to me than everything in that mansion combined, he’d sneered during their fight. But what information was that? He’d burned the blackmail and Marine profiles. As far as she knew, he’d kept his word and not sold any of Vegapunk’s weapons research. Hell, he’d been more interested in his fertilizer formula, and that was as a favor to Nami.

If the research and blackmail weren’t what he wanted, why did he got to so much trouble to get those ledgers? What other information could possibly have been worth nearly getting himself and his crew killed?

By process of elimination, that left the book on the shichibukai, and with his control-freak tendencies and his violent reaction the last time they’d discussed it, she wasn’t sure he’d be willing to part with it.

She could borrow it, though. Grab it, hide it, make a copy, then find a way to return it without him noticing.

Unconsciously, her hand slowly raised to the cold steel door handle. This was the first time the ship had been completely empty. Everyone was preoccupied on the island. Surely she could take a few minutes to grab the ledger from Law’s room, right? Just a quick in-and-out. He didn’t need it at the moment—it had nothing to do with his plans. He wouldn’t even miss it.

Cautiously, she tried to open the door. Locked. She could easily pick it with her tools, though. She could pop back into her room, grab them, jimmy the lock, grab the ledger, pop back out…

She was wasting time. Bepo was waiting for her. What would she tell him if he saw her breaking into his captain’s room? Or worse, what if Law suddenly returned? He could teleport back to the ship without her even realizing, and she doubted he’d be happy to see her there, especially when his crew was in potential danger.

If Nami wanted to get that ledger, she’d need a much better plan than some spur-of-the-moment burglary attempt.

Making a mental note to start working on that once the current crisis was over, she sprinted back to the main deck to find a worried and dejected Bepo.

“They didn’t pick up.”

A thousand outlandish scenarios about what could have happened to them popped into Nami’s head, from cannibals to the island actually being a sentient being that had been slowly devouring the crew for sustenance.

God, she missed Usopp. At least when he was around, she had someone to blame when she got worked up like this.

“M-maybe we should stay on the ship. You know, in case they try to call us?” she said nervously, her old scaredy-cat tendencies bubbling to the surface.

“But what if no one finds Law? Even if the others return, we’ll all just have to head back out into the jungle to find him. It’s better to find him first, and you saw him last, right? You have the best idea where he might have gone.”

Slumping, she sighed. He was right, and unfortunately, Crozier and Cousteau’s team had gone West, so it was unlikely the search party had thought to go in Law’s direction. “I guess you’re right.”

By the time they arrived on the shore the rest of the crew was long gone, so Nami and Bepo headed East towards where she’d seen Law wander off.

“Even if there are wild beasts, they wouldn’t stand a chance against Law,” Bepo assured her confidently as they searched, keeping to the outskirts of the jungle. The tide had washed away Law’s footprints, but they were hoping to find some sort of clue or disturbance along to foliage to see if he’d ventured into the jungle. “I’m sure he’s already on his way back; we’ll find him in no time, and then he can use his powers to Scan the island and make sure there’s nothing else dangerous!”

Nami’s mouth twisted in disdain. She was beginning to understand why Law put so much pressure on himself; his powers, plans, and medical abilities were everyone’s go-to solution for any given problem. She wondered if Law’s control-freak tendencies were because of this, or if he’d always been that way and the Hearts had just learned to pick their battles.

Regardless, Bepo had a point this time—if Law used his powers, they’d know the situation with the island and where the crew was in one fell swoop.

Life was never that easy, though. Icy dread crawled down Nami’s back as she caught a flash of yellow near the edge of the jungle. Heart in her throat, she darted towards it, barely restraining a strangled sob when she realized it was the shredded remains of Law’s swim trunks.

Oh my God! Nami could feel sharp tears sting her eyes as she collapsed to her knees, cradling the tattered mesh in her hands. Up close, she could clearly see it had been torn apart by a razor-sharp blade or, more likely, claws and teeth. What could have done this? There’s no way it was a boar! Please don’t tell me he’s—

She jumped as a set of long, sharp claws filled her vision, only to realize it was Bepo reaching for the piece of cloth.

“There’s no blood,” he mumbled, studying it closely.

Hope filled her chest at those simple words. If there was no blood, there was a chance Law was perfectly fine! Probably buck-naked, but that was way better than dead!

Her happy bubble burst when a strange, husky sound reached her ears. Goosebumps rose up along her arms as she realized it was a growl of some kind.

She lifted her head slowly, only to find a pair of wild gold eyes peeking out from the darkness of the jungle. The beast moved closer, and Nami found herself mere feet away from a snarling snow leopard, its white fangs bared menacingly.

[dsmroleplay]

#BeautyAndTheBeast Part 6 #DSM #RP #SPN #BtVS

Writers: @HuntersGirlBaby @DeadlyJager @DeanWinchester_

Graham: -At 7am Graham took back over his post and asked how his colleague how it had went. Nothing much had happened, the doctor had came and went. He'd allowed Alyson to get water and take a walk. She was secure in her room and he was happy to go rest. Graham took up his spot at the door and listening to Rosa sing down in the kitchen. The whole house smelt like eggs and bacon. Meanwhile Julian had gotten up too and made the call to @DeanWinchester_ his secretary put him straight through to Colt's phone after giving Colt a head's up of who the guy was.- :::::::::::::::::: Colt: -Colt was out in the barn working on the wood he was prepping for some projects when the call came in. "This is Colt Winchester." He wondered what the werewolf was calling for, it was brazen and highly unorthodox. The only time he'd seen Julian was from briefing reports and surveillance pictures.- ::::::::::::::::::: Graham: (Ghosting for Julian Duval) "Let's cut to the chase. I have your daughter Alyson. She's well and hasn't been harmed. I don't want a full out war Winchester so I asking for way to keep my people safe and your daughter as well." :::::::::::::::::: Colt: -Colt's face lost all color, Alyson had wanted to go for a trip with her friends and he'd let her go unescorted like an idiot. Normally he'd have told the guy to go fuck himself but no way he'd do anything to get Alyson hurt. Worry in his voice as he replied.- "What do you want want Duval?" :::::::::::::::: Graham: "I want a truce to start with, a negotiations of the werewolf houses and I want Alyson to be my bride. That way dear old daddy doesn't go back on his word. You're wiping out an entire species and left uncheck, it's time to answer for that." ::::::::::::::: Colt: -Colt was livid, "His bride" no fucking way. Covering how truly upset he was, his calm voice answering back.- "You've either got a set up balls that rival King Kong or you're looking to die young. I want to talk to my daughter, /now/." :::::::::::::::: Graham: (Ghosting for Julian Duval) "That can be arranged but first I want to see you're taking this serious. If you think you can storm me and rescue your daughter think again. I'll kill her Winchester and not in a quick way either. I want all the werewolf houses set up for a meeting you yourself will come alone and you'll tell them that our marriage will stop the killing. You're going to put your company and men behind me and I will oversee all the werewolf houses. Once Alyson has my offspring the houses will see just how serious we are about this." :::::::::::::::::::: Colt: -No way on earth he was going to go along with this shit but until he got Alyson home safe he might just have to do what the asshole was suggesting. He didn't want to see his guys die anymore than psycho wanted his "species" to be wiped out but werewolves weren't docile, they were violent and had a natural instinct to kill and humans didn't deserve to be their dog chow.- "I have to know she's still alive, otherwise I'd be walking into a trap." ::::::::::::::: Graham: (Ghosting for Julian Duval) "I'll have her call you. I don't want to have to hurt her Winchester but I /will/ if you step out of line she'll pay the price. And besides, you have the opportunity to stop the bloodshed on both sides all you have to do is cooperate. She'll be in touch with instructions soon." -With that Julian hung up on him and sat back in his leather chair. That had felt amazing, it was far from over but if this guy loved his daughter he'd get in line.- ::::::::::::::::: Alyson: Ali had sat on the window, looking outside. As she watches the sun rise. She couldn’t get back to sleep. Her head rested on the window frame. After walking around for awhile it helped to calm her a bit. She didn’t want to go back into the nightmare.

She loved the smell after a storm. It smelled fresh and clean. But something else tickled her nose, eggs and bacon. It made her stomach growl and rumble. She was hungry. Only have eaten the hamburger and fries before she got here.

Slipping off the windowsill she made her way to the shower. washing up as quick as she could. The hot water felt so good against her skin. Once done, she dried herself and dressed in blue jeans, white tank top and her white and blue shirt over it. Pushing her feet into a little brown boots.

With the promise of food, she made her way  to the door. Opening it she stepped out. Seeing Graham, a sweet smile spread across her lips.* Graham. *Seeing him made her feel so much better.* Good morning. *even with the hint of dark circles under her eyes.* It’s so good to see you this morning. *her voice soft, as the  gentle rumble of her stomach made her blush. She cleared her throat, laughing a little to herself.* I blame the smell of food on that noise. *she rubbed the back of her neck. He might just laugh at the noise of her stomach.* How are you this morning? *maybe to draw his attention away from her stomach.* ::::::::::::::::: Graham: Graham: -He'd overheard every word of Julian's phone call with Colt Winchester and it left him feeling a like a dark cloud was hanging over them. He understood Julian and his frustration and what he felt as an obligation to clans but Graham knew Julian had fallen in love with the power as well. He'd be unstoppable if the humans backed him and Graham wasn't too sure he'd like to see Julian have that kind of power. Good intentions don't always work out the way one would hope. He smiled kindly down at Alyson as she emerged from her room and he listened to her but more importantly observed. She looked like she hadn't slept and he could understand why. She seemed to sweet and innocent to be tied up in all of this and his mind began to work out a possible way to get her free of Julian and get her home where she belonged. He couldn't voice it though, if anyone suspected his loyalty it would be the end of him. And even if he wasn't killed he still had the U.S. Government looking for him and the others like him they'd experimented on and he'd rather die to become their lab rat again.- I'm alright, let's take you down to the kitchen and solve at least one problem today. :::::::::::::::::: Alyson: *His smile set her at ease. Giving a gentle nod to her head. Her mind wondered what other problems. On one hand she wanted to know what they were, but on the other she didn’t. It would only cause her to worry. Was it something to do with her? Graham? Her family? To many things  it could be.

Making their way down to the kitchen. The smell only got stronger. Her mouth started to water. Before they got to the kitchen, she peeked up to Graham.* Is there anything I can do to help? *she spoke softly as she asked. She wondered if he was going to ask about what happened last night. She didn’t even know what to tell him. Stopping she turned to face him. Working on her words and how to tell him.* Graham..about last night.. *she looked and made sure they were alone. She didn’t want others to know.* Remember I said I was..different? *she rubbed the back of her neck.* That..was an effect of how I’m different. I..I..didn’t want you to worry. *She wouldn’t tell what she saw. Not right now at least. No one should have to carry that burden, no one. Smiling softly, she turned and walked the rest of  the way into the kitchen.

Rosa was platting up breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast and fruit. Ali smiled at the woman.* Good morning Rosa! *the woman looked up and smiled. Coming around to greet Ali. She looked her over as she held Ali’s face in her hands. Ali placed her hand on Rosa’s letting her know she was ok.* Come eat. *She herded Ali to the island of the kitchen. Slipping into the stool, Rosa set out the food. With Rosa busy Ali looked up and smiled at Graham.* Would you like to join me Graham? I can’t eat all this myself. *And she didn’t want to eat alone.* :::::::::::::::: Graham: -He didn't see the harm in it and Rosa was already piling up a plate for him so he took a seat beside her. Looking over at her.- I'm sorry, it's my job to look after you. You looked like you were ill. :::::::::::::::::: Alyson: *Lifting her head up, she smiled softly at him. She felt at ease, having him close. The darkness that was Julian was easier to bare. She spoke softly, as she reached out and touched his arm.* Graham, please don’t be sorry. I know it was shocking. And might have come out as  something very wrong with me. *Ali being Ali. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.* You took very good care of me. They..they hit me out of no where. I just.. *with her free hand she rubbed the back of her neck.* ....didn’t want you to worry. It’s a cross I have to bare. And it’s scary, I have to admit. *as she spoke a smile still on her lips. To put him at ease. She sat back down and started to eat. It was so good. Sipping her tea, then sitting it down. After Rosa went about her work. The problems he mentioned came to the forefront of her mind. Turning in her seat to face him better.* Graham..is there anything I can do to help? You have helped me. And I..I want to help if I can. :::::::::::::::: Graham: -He wasn't used to people being so friendly or open, Alyson's kiss softened his features as he studied her. She was trying to make him feel better. She couldn't be more than twenty if that, much older spirit though. He smiled at her.- Best thing you could do Alyson is eat, keep your strength up. -Graham couldn't and wouldn't say anymore outloud because he knew the house was covered with cameras and Julian kept tabs on /everyone/. Graham went back to eating but his mind was on Julian, wondering just what he had planned. Some of the guys had been talking already and were grumbling about wanting no part of a the hunters. From what he could gather Julian wanted to join forces with them and thus be able to overtake the werewolves system of government within the various families. With the might of the hunters behind him no one would stand a chance against him.- :::::::::::::::: Alyson: *His smile, sent butterflies off in her stomach. How could a smile do that? His face soft..dare she think of awe of it. A gentle blush creeped across her cheek. Smiling she nodded, she didn’t trust her voice at the moment. She would just stutter and make it awkward for them both. Even with the butterflies, her stomach dropped a little bit. Worry coursed through her tiny frame as she ate. Was something bad coming? What was talking about. She was already there. Right in the mist of it. Right now was the eye of the storm. The wild winds were  coming. She just hoped that her and Graham made it out of this.  

She cleaned her plate, as Rosa seen she asked if Ali wanted more. Sweet as Ali was, she thanked her. But she couldn’t eat more. She moved to help but Rosa wasn’t having it. Ali laughed softly. She wouldn’t step on her toes.

Sipping her tea, her leg bounced slowly. Digging her pockets, grabbing her bottle of anxiety pills. She didn’t even know if this would help. Hating the idea that she had to even take these. Closing her eyes she breathed out slowly. Putting them back. No.   she wasn’t going to take them. Not knowing how they would effect her. Wanting a clear head while here.

She didn’t want a run in with Julian. Whispering to Graham.* Graham. Can we go outside? I..just want to be out in the fresh air. And..I feel he is going to pop up at any moment. When your done..eating. I don’t want you rushing eating. Just..soon. *every voice in the house could be him.* ::::::::::::::::: Graham: Sure. -About that time Julian walked in and eyed her.- You look well, time to make a phone call Alyson. I promised your father. ::::::::::::::: Alyson: *Her whole body tensed, as the man she feared walked in. Gripping the edge of the counter that they sat at. She whispered.* Daddy... *he could come and get her. She could go home..and take. Her mind was swirling with every emotion one could feel. Eyes wide, as she looked at up  to Julian. Taking deep breaths. She would not show fear. Don’t show to..him. She had the blood of her daddy racing through her veins. Not knowing what was to come. She would face it.

Pushing up and off the stool she sat on. Giving herself a moment to steady herself. Walking  to the other side of Graham. But kept close.* Lead the way. *She spoke as strong as could in that moment. Looking to Graham, her eyes pleading with him not to leave her.* ::::::::::::::::: Graham: -Graham could sense the change in emotions but anyone would. Tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Julian lead them to the study and handing her his cell phone.- ::::::::::::::::: Alyson: *She followed, staying close to Graham. She didn’t like this. What was Julian expecting of her? Would this make matters worse? Stepping inside his study. Ali’s landed on the cell phone. With a little shake to her hands, she took the phone.

Awaking up the phone. Pushing the  little phone and opening up the numbers. She stopped, looking up from the phone. He was up to something he had to be. This wasn’t out of kindness or the goodness of his heart. But she wasn’t about to let this chance pass her up. Dialing her daddy’s cell phone. Putting it to her ear. Keeping Graham in her eye sight. She listened to it ring. She whispered.* Please daddy..pick up. *he wouldn’t know this number. At least she didn’t think so.* ::::::::::::::: Colt: -Colt had been waiting for the call from Julian, he hadn't told anyone what was going on yet because he wasn't entirely sure what was going on himself. When his cell lit up he picked it up immediately.- This is Colt. :::::::::::::::: Alyson: *Daddy’s voice. It washed over her, slowly she closed her eyes. Tears filled her eyes. Ali missed him, her family and her home. Slowly tears slipped from between her lashes and down her cheeks. Gently she sniffled, rubbing her nose. Trying to compose herself as best she could. Taking a few deep breath breaths. But it was no use. Her voice was shaky, filled with so much emotion. Stuttering she spoke.* Dadddy, it’s...me.. *slowly her eyes opened. Looking to the ground.* I..want..to come home. I miss you. *She whispered.* I’m scared, daddy. :::::::::::::::::::: Graham: -Graham stood there and it was damn hard to listen to this and he wished he wasn't involved. Eyes settle on Julian, face stoic he studied the younger mans demeanor. Julian didn't look thrilled, but he didn't look ashamed either. Graham knew how he thought this was a means to an end and whether he was after power or not he'd see this through because he truly believed it was the only way to get the hunters off their backs for good.- ::::::::::::::::: Colt: -Standing there Colt's face went white, he was holding the cell so tight his knuckles had went white as well. He sank into the chair, forearm braced on his thigh. Head bowed his heart was breaking, his shit had gotten Alyson grabbed and she was scared. A million things ran through his head.- "You're going to come home safe baby girl, I promise. Are you hurt?" :::::::::::::::: Alyson: *Her shoulders sagged. Ali knew that her daddy would keep his promise. Wiping the tears from her cheeks. As he asked if she was hurt. Eyes slowly rose to look at Graham. He had been keeping her safe. She believed that Graham would hold to his word. To get her out. Though she didn’t know the plans that Julian had for. And she hates that unknown. She spoke after a few moments.* I’m not hurt daddy, I promise. *She didn’t want her daddy to worry. But she knew he was. She held tighter to the phone.* I’ve had to be seen by a doctor. But it was just from stress. *she took a breath once more.* Daddy...do..do..you know what’s going on? :::::::::::::::: Colt: -Eyes shut tight he was pissed and scared for her all at the same time.- I got the jest of it baby. I promise you I’m going to bring you home and I’m going to kill that son of bitch. Stay calm, don’t take any chances. I love you Alyson, you’re going to be okay. :::::::::::::::: Alyson: *She gripped onto her daddy’s words like a lifeline. Ali could be strong. She would stick to Graham like glue. She wanted to ask what he knew. But it wasn’t the time. And she knew that daddy wouldn’t want to scare her more. Her heart squeezed in her chest. Almost to the point that she couldn’t breath.* I promise daddy. *She would do as he asked. She whispered to him.* I will be safe. I love to daddy, so very much. *She just wanted to crawl through the phone. Be free of this place. She knew deep down, Julian had signed his death warrant, the moment  he took her. She would make it to her daddy. And take the Graham with her. She looked to him once more. He maybe part of them. But he wasn’t like them. They would both come out of this.* I’m..I’m hugging you so tight right now daddy. ::::::::::::::::::: Graham: -Julian took the phone from her and got on the line.- I’ll let you know when the wedding is, she’ll be left unscathed long as you keep your word. Once it’s over we will set down and develop a plan for taking over the council. You try anything and I will send her home piece by piece. :::::::::::::::::::::::: Alyson: *Just like that her daddy was ripped from her. She wanted to snatch the phone back. Daddy said no taking chances. What stilled her hand from raising. Wedding? She looked up to Julian. What wedding? She was so confused and scared. Did daddy agree? No she wouldn’t believe that.  Daddy would never do that to her. He loved her to much. Fear gripped her heart, ‘piece by piece.’ He would kill her. But she wouldn’t marry that man. She didn’t him and she wasn’t going to used as a pawn or someone that would bow to him. Her little hands fisted at her sides. Nails pressing into the palms of her hands, they shook at her sides. Meeting his eyes, she was her daddy’s daughter, his baby girl.* I’m /not/ marrying you! You are not using me for some gain! *She promised her daddy. But she just couldn’t marry him. It made her sick to her  stomach, at the very thought.* You are not going to use me to hurt others! I will /never/ be your wife! *her voice rose, and a bit stronger then she felt at the moment.* ::::::::::::::::: Graham: -Julian hung the phone up then backhanded her.- Get this /human/ out of my site before I forget she's useful. ::::::::::::::::: Colt: -Colt's heart sank once the call was terminated. He was going to kill that son of bitch and he was going to do it slowly. Heading into the office so he could pull up anything they had on Julian Duval.- :::::::::::::::::: Alyson: *A loud crack echoed around the room. Pain bloomed along her cheek. She cried out as her ass fell to the floor. Pain spreading, cupping her hand against the bruise that already started to form.

Her mind screaming to get to Graham. It wasn’t safe and she knew that. Scrambling,  her feet pushed her back along the floor, as fast as she could.

The toe of his boot hits her hand. With a hand shaking hard, she reached up and grabbed his pant leg. Pulling herself up along his side. Gripping as tight as could, hands fisting in his clothes.

Never again would a man /ever/ hit her again. Inching slowly back to the door they had entered. Keeping Graham close to her. She wouldn’t leave him with Julian. Even if he was his boss.* ::::::::::::::::::: Graham: What’s this shit? -Julian snarls at Graham as Alyson holds onto him. His eyes changing color. Graham put Alyson behind him and let out a growl, claws emerging as his wolf genes kicked in. Several of Julian’s men showed up but they didn’t come closer. There was a reason Graham was his number two, he was absolutely lethal and was much stronger than a regular wolf. Voice deeper and his stance ready to pounce.- She’s just a girl! Whatever evils her father has done are not hers. :::::::::::::: Alyson: *Oh no! Eyes going wide, seeing Julian’s eyes change color. It was brief before she placed behind Graham. She had no fear of Graham. No. It was Julian, she shouldn’t have done what she did. But, it was done now.

Flickering her eyes when the other men came in. They were out  numbered. Worry for Graham bubbled up inside of her. She didn’t want him hurt because of her. What could she do? She had trust in faith in Graham. It’s the others she didn’t trust. Pressing closer to Graham. Shocking she wasn’t shocking, something clicked in her mind and soul. She would do anything to help out. No matter what it would be. Hidden behind Graham, she steeled herself. He wouldn’t alone in this. With a strong small hand, she placed it on the small of his back. Letting him know she was with him through all this. She hopes that he would feel that from her. Keeping her eyes trained on the other men. She wouldn’t them pounce on Graham. Even little things will help.* :::::::::::::::::: Graham: You're an idiot Graham, the little whore has you in her claws. It's always the innocent ones that are the worst. I suggest you back down unless you want to die for the human. -Julian signals his guys to come towards Graham.- Let her go Julian, I'll help you go after her father myself. -Very aware of the other wolves, if he changed him then it would be to the death and Graham neither wanted to kill or be leader.- :::::::::::::::::::: Alyson: *Ali’s hand fists at her side. Anger boils the blood in her veins. She wasn’t a damn whore! Not one to be upset easy. Now, Graham and her in danger, calling her a whore. It was to much and it pissed her off.

She glared as the men moved closer. What the hell could she do? She peeked around Graham a little. See needed to see. She hoped to god this would work. Sure she had done things in the past, but this was different. Eyes falling to their feet. Maybe she could buy him some time. Using her anger, taking a breath. Focusing on their feet.  In her mind she grips them, as tight as she could. Forcing all of her power that she could into it. They come to halt, trying to move. They looked shocked. She had to ignore what was going on. Because for now, she had a hold on them. And they had no clue it was her.* :::::::::::::::::: Graham: -Graham growled low this was going to turn ugly really fast. Lunging at Julian they hit the ground biting and clawing at each other both set on killing eachother now. Blood filled the air as they both took on damage.- ::::::::::::::::::::::: Alyson: *She held as long as she could. Blood tickled her nose. With wide eyes she looked to fast to Graham and Julian. Oh god no!* Graham!! *she screamed, as the hold on the men snapped. Watching them go at one another. It was a horror to see. Oh god please let Graham be ok.

The men noticed that they could move. Ali shook, she wanted to kill Julian herself. She was exposed with three to deal with.

Something in her mind snapped. The thought of Graham being hurt or killed. She couldn’t live with that. No! He had done so much to protect her. And she  wouldn’t let /anyone/ hurt him. With a anger and power she didn’t know she had. She slammed the men up against the door. Holding them up off the ground. Her fists at her sides.* You will not touch him!! *they wouldn’t leave this office if need be. They fought against the hold  they could not see. Hell they didn’t even know what was going on. She just looked like a losses off woman, nothing more. Gripping tighter on the men, she could feel how hard they fought to get lose. Nothing and no one  would harm those she cared about.* :::::::::::::::: Graham: -About that time Rosa came in and hit Alyson across the back of the head with a book end off the bookcase behind her. Rosa had heard the commotion and came to see. The scent was strong of anger and fear. Julian’s men quickly subdued Graham by knocking him out as well. Julian ordered them to be taken to the basement and locked in steel cages. He would make sure Grahams death would be displayed for all to see.-

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Ovoviviparous!

So this is the thing about driving long-haul deliveries in this backwater corner of the galaxy: you need to open up your dating pool, so to speak, because the planets out here aren’t too well settled by humans and sometimes weeks go by without seeing anyone whose ancestors came from the same water-logged rock as yours. 

And this is the thing about hooking up with aliens: you need to be careful about it, because some things are not compatible whatsoever and some things are a little too compatible, if you catch my drift. You’ve got to get yourself checked out on the regular if you want to keep things tidy.

And this is the thing about getting your check ups: sometimes the thing you’d thought was just a weird jiggly blue mole turns out to be what laymen refer to as an egg sac.

My doctor (who looked a little like an owl and a little like an iridescent pile of discarded syringes, and who had a very calming voice) told me it would be a simple enough thing to scrape off at such an early stage - no harm, no foul. I couldn’t tell you for the life of me why I turned him down, except that I guess I was a little curious to see where it would go.

The mole’s gotten bigger now, something like the size of a softball grafted to my bicep, which isn’t as annoying as you’d think. Makes it hard to wear anything with sleeves, I’ll give you that, but seems worth it for such a great conversation starter.

“Whatcha got there?” well-meaning waitresses ask at the asteroid diners, and then I tell ‘em it’s my egg sac and I’m expecting and they stumble all over themselves for being insensitive and come coo at the babies.

They are babies now, by the way. There was a whole wad of pearly eggs for a bit, round as marbles, but they’ve given way to a little school of babies that look for all the world like black sharks all of a milimeter long. 

They don’t do much but circle around and around all day, bumping into each other every once in awhile. They shouldn’t need to eat, since apparently nutrients get pulled from me into the egg sac and soaked right into their skin, but I swear one or two of them have been cannibalized by the others. That’s upsetting, sort of, but I try not to judge them too harsh for it. That’s their culture, maybe.

Hard to say for sure on that front. Their other parent didn’t look anything like this. She was definitely on the sharky side, to be sure - gray skin and big flopping gills and pointy teeth that I will admit were a bit of a turn on. If you’d asked me to guess I would have assumed she came from a mostly liquid planet. But she was bipedal, and taller than me, and I can’t figure out for the life of me how these little guppies are supposed to end up looking like her.

Maybe they won’t, I guess. Maybe we accidentally made something unique between the two of us. They’re growing up a storm now, so I gave up my delivery route and started hauling ass towards home. My dear pointy bird of a doctor is speculating that the mole will burst when the babies get big enough, and no one’s quite sure what we’ll be expecting after that. Maybe they’ll need a tropical saltwater tank, maybe they’ll start growing into upright landsharks like their other mama. Anybody’s guess.

My folks have been good about it, though. They’re looking forward to having me and the aquarium of kiddos around the house, and pleased as punch to be grandparents. They’ve gotten the entire neighborhood knitting circle involved, trying to figure out how to make onesies for the babies that can handle getting soaked with water and won’t get in the way of their gills. 

[an-angels-diary]

Mystic Code: Choose Your Path Walkthrough “Happy Ending: Case Closed”

So this is actually the second ending that I got, and although it said “Happy Ending”, I don’t think this is the true end, since it still have an unsolved mystery after the ending.

Note: You can skip Prologue, Episode 1 & 2 

Choices that I have made are in bold.

Will keep updating as I play~ So check out this Ending Guide

Recommended to be played along with this Bad Ending Guide, so you can get the bad endings without repeating the game, although hearts will be needed.

Click here to keep reading

Episode 3

Anything to ask?

Ask about the other wounds

Ask if she knows anyone else

The whiteboard in covered in notes from this case.

Examine the whiteboard (Image)

Ignore the whiteboard

Read the pile of documents (Image)

Is lieutenant [your name] there?

Answer 

Don’t answer

Episode 4

Did you…

The victim was a Mystic

The victim is our killer

The victim is the attacker

What should I do?

Listen to Captain Wilson

Insist on going together (+Theodore’s Intimacy)

What do you think, Lieutenant [your name]?

Agree with Eliot

Agree with William (+William’s Intimacy)

Give another option

Text from Justin.

Ignore the text

Go meet Justin (+Justin’s intimacy)

What would you like to drink?

Don’t Drink

Drink

Episode 5

It was…

A man drying up

Pearls piled up

Why don’t you go question some people then?

Go (+Theodore’s Intimacy)

Don’t go

Who are you going to take?

Theodore Wilson

William Harris (+William’s Intimacy)

Leona Carlson

How have you been?

Not bad

Good

Bad

We have juice and coffee.

Juice 

Coffee

Episode 6

Haaa… so strict as always.

Take Eliot’s side (+Eliot’s Intimacy)

Don’t take Eliot’s side (+William’s Intimacy)

What should I do?

Ask Eliot

Don’t bother asking

How to do it?

Easy way. Check the files in KICS

Stay up and go through paperwork

Episode 7

Where should we begin?

Top

<Assault in Mullae District>

Can’t we open this by force?

How can we open this cabinet?

Leona

Date of incident: August 29th

What should I have?

What should I have?

Maybe this could be our lead (+Leona’s Intimacy)

…Ah

Episode 8

How can I help?

About <Solitary Death Case in Gumcheon District>

About <Murder Case in Fabric Factory> - Bad Ending No. 10 <Can’t Think Straight (1)>

About <Police Murder in Sillim District> - Bad Ending No. 11 <Can’t Think Straight (2)>

He handed me a can of coffee.

Take it (+William’s Intimacy)

Don’t take it

…Who is it?

Boyfriend

Little brother (+William’s Intimacy)

Someone I know

You should get some rest.

Ask if I can go out (+Theodore’s Intimacy)

Just rest

Episode 9

But that’s expensive...?

It’s pretty pricey (+Justin’s Intimacy) (Image)

Something simple

Something cheap

Do you have to go?

Stay a little longer (+Justin’s Intimacy)

Return to the station

Episode 10

I saw the date circled in red.

Oh yes! Kendo Tournament (+Justin’s Intimacy)

Oh yes! Judo Tournament

Oh yes! Wrestling Tournament

So you need to take care of your health

Okay (+Theodore’s Intimacy)

I’m fine - Bad Ending No. 15 <Overworked (1)>

What should I do...?

Eat (+Justin’s Intimacy)

Don’t eat

Episode 11

The egg roll tastes...

Amazing (+Justin’s Intimacy)

So-so

Ugh, not good - Bad Ending No. 18 <Your Taste in Food>

Let’s see, what should we talk about?

Pop-up Bars

Kendo Tournament (+Justin’s Intimacy)

I was looking around for someplace quieter...

and moved over to the library

and moved inside the gymnasium

and moved back to my car

Episode 12

What should I get for Justin...?

A sports drink

Cream Bun

Banana Milk (+Justin’s Intimacy) (Image)

I decided to question them.

Man with vacant expression

Man with shaking hands

I must have missed something

Another witness at the scene

Relationship between Justin and the victim

Justin’s Alibi

Episode 13

His anger towards the Mystics finally blew up...

Stop him from talking

Keep quiet

Put your personal feelings aside and follow procedure

Answer

Don’t say anything

I will...

I’ll get my thoughts in order

Leave the room

Episode 14

What to do about Justin?

Leave Justin in Criminal Division - Leads to Normal Ending No. 7

Bring Justin to MIU (+Justin’s Intimacy)

Ask anything, and I will tell you everything.

Don’t ask anything

Ask what he ate (+Justin’s Intimacy)

Ask about the Kendo Tournament

Episode 15

There’s a closed sign hung up by the cafe.

Ignore the sign and enter

Wait a moment

Then it immediately came to me.

Gumwa (Golden Frog)

Baeksa (White Snake)

Ancient Hwali (Golden Carp) (+William’s Intimacy)

I’ve got a lot on my mind now.

Ask if he’s doing okay

Ask if anything else is going on

Episode 16

What did you find out?

Missing teenagers (+Theodore’s Intimacy)

Dead cop

Doctor’s surgery

Ah...!

Greet him with a smile (+Justin’s Intimacy)

Greet him with concern

Episode 17

Hm...? Why are you so surprised?

Tell the truth

Change the topic

Don’t say anything

Chris began leading the conversation...

...You’re right (+Christopher’s Intimacy)

We’re always appropriate

Must be hard to work with someone so stiff.

Disagree (+William’s Intimacy)

Try provoking him

Episode 18

Are you okay?

I’m fine (+Leona’s Intimacy)

Not fine

I think so

Why are you coming out from there?

Let Eliot answer

Answer for him

He brightened a lot, but Justin still seemed down.

Talk with Justin

Take a look at Justin

Hug Justin (+Justin’s Intimacy) (Image)

Episode 19

Use the media?

Block out the media  - Can lead to Bad Ending

Hold a press conference (+Theodore’s Intimacy)

Who should guard the door? - If you chose Block out the media

Leona Carlson

William Harris (+William’s Intimacy) - Bad Ending No. 25 <Failed Door Guardian>

Should I open the door?

Don’t open it - Bad Ending No. 27 <No Time for That>

It was obvious who they were so I quickly opened the door (+Eliot’s Intimacy)

How can I help you?

I’m from the police department

We need to talk to Doctor Jihyung Nam

Episode 20

Then what brings you here?

Tell the truth

Tell a lie

Mix truth with a lie (+Ansel’s Intimacy)

Ansel seemed shocked.

Calm him down (+Ansel’s Intimacy)

Try to ask what happened

Episode 21

Do you want to go question Christopher Spencer?

Go meet Christopher (+Christopher’s Intimacy)

Don’t meet with Christopher

Drink?

I’ll have tea please (+Christopher’s Intimacy) (Image)

I’ll have coffee

Just water is fine

Episode 22

What should I do?

Stay and talk to him - Bad Ending No. 30 <Your Cue to Leave>

Finish the interview and leave (+Christopher’s Intimacy)

I’ll call him now.

Call Eliot (+Eliot’s Intimacy)

Don’t call Eliot - Bad Ending No. 31 <The Shutdown. It’s just not Working!>

Episode 23

Do you want to talk to him?

Talk to Ansel

Don’t meet Ansel

Sure, go ahead.

Why were you at the hospital earlier?

Then, you only knew Dr. Nam as a patient?

Were there any problems between you two?

Then the first thing I did was…

Document the interview - Bad Ending No. 33 <The Lost Chance>

Take the coffee cup (+Eliot’s Intimacy)

Episode 24

I might be able to get a lead with this…!

Search for the cat

Send Eliot (+Eliot’s Intimacy) (Image)

Check the Box

I took a deep breath and recited a spell.

Use the spell carefully

Use the spell as quickly as possible - Bad Ending No. 35 <Relax, Relax>

Should I open the box?

Open the box

Don’t open the box - Bad Ending No. 35 <Lost Faith>

Then the letter…?

The suspect wrote it

Suspect didn’t write it

Episode 25

Something unusual....

Yes (Image)

No

Which one should I go for?

Red Invitation

Black Invitation

Have you closed the case?

Yes

No

I quickly pulled out my gun, pointed at both men…

And shouted out

I fired off a warning shot (Image) - Happy Ending: Case Closed

[thecleverdame]

Sleepy Hollow - Eleven

Series Master List

Pairings: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean x Jo

Summary: In 1799, specialized police constables Sam and Dean Winchester are sent from New York City to a small town called Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders. Approached by the town’s council, the Winchesters discover the local residents believe that the murders are the work of a deadly Hessian horseman whose head has been mysteriously chopped off. With help from the beautiful Y/N Van Tassel, Sam Winchester’s investigation takes him further through the dark wood where more murders have been occurring. What Sam does not realize is that the mysterious Horseman is being controlled by someone in a sinister plot to kill the most suitable men in the village.

Warnings: Canon-level violence, murder, smut, horror, gore and a little fluff for good measure.

Words: 40k

Beta:  ilikaicalie

This series is completed. You can read it on my Patreon for a monthly pledge of 2.50. This pledge includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

Van Tassel House - Sam’s Room Sam awakes, rolling over to find Lady Van Tassel at his bedside with food and drink. He shifts, pulling the covers up over his waist, still naked from the night before.

“You slept like the dead,” she affirms mouth pinched in a tight expression. “You are too kind to me.” Sam clears his throat, sitting up. “I do not look to be served by the lady of the house.” She smiles and shrugs. “Nor would you be but that the servant girl has vanished.” “Sarah?” Sam confirms, thinking about how pleased she was to have him here, to solve this dark mystery. “Run away, like many more people are leaving, in fear, without ceremony.” Lady Van Tassel waves her hand as if swatting at wafting annoyance. “Where is Y/N?” Sam asks, immediately regretting the question. He can still smell you on the bedclothes. “She watched over you till dawn, I dare say.” Her eyes narrow, something playful sparkling. “Now it is her turn to sleep and I am here. I doubt, however, that I will provide the same level of care my stepdaughter has.”

“I am grateful.” Sam ignores her implication.

“I’ll leave you to dress, constable.” She leaves the room as Young Masbath enters. “I am fit for another day.” Sam’s careful to keep the sheets around his waist as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “Get my brother.” “I’m already here.” Dean saunters through the door, tugging his sleeves into place.

“You’re awake early,” Sam comments, pulling on his trousers.

“There wasn’t much sleep to be had while Y/N was providing you such vigorous care.” Dean grimaces and Sam nearly chokes on his own spit.

“The walls are thin?” Sam grins despite the blush rising in his cheeks.

“Thin enough to know she took great care of you...twice.” Dean remains unamused.

“Miss Van Tassell tended to me when I had the flu.” Young Masbath adds, looking from Sam to Dean. “She is a gifted caregiver.”

Dean chuckles, placing a hand on Young Masbath’s shoulder. “I have no doubt she is.”

“Where are we going?” “To the Notary's office,” Sam offers and Dean nods in agreement. “Why?” Young Masbath asks. “Because that is where I expect to find deposited...the last will and testament of the elder Van Garrett,” Sam explains, looking at his brother. Dean nods at him. “You’ve thought of something.”

“Of something Young Masbath said.” Sam gestures to the boy. “The Widow Winship came many a day with a basket of eggs to Van Garrett, who I understand had hens to spare. I begin to see. It was Van Garrett's child that the widow was carrying.” “I heard someone leaving last night,” Young Masbath interjects. “Looked like they were headed into town, but I lost them in the woods.” “You didn't see who?” Dean cocked an eyebrow. “All I saw was their lantern.” The brothers ponder this new information, troubled, as Young Masbath brings Sam a shirt. “The Horseman does the killing but, I believe, at the bidding of a mortal, someone of flesh and blood.” Sam pulls the shirt over his head. “What makes you say that?” Masbath looks at Sam like he’s insane. “The witch,” Dean confirms.

“Indeed, the crone, when I happened upon her corpse, she lay in a pool of blood. Blood poured hard from her neck. The wound was not cauterized.” “Then, she was not killed by the Hessian. Someone tried to make it seem so.” The boy is getting it now. “Perhaps it was the settling of a private score,” Dean offers.

“That would make more sense,” Sam agrees, gathering his things. “The Horseman cuts heads to a different drum. The crone pointed us to what drives the Hessian - his skull has been stolen from his grave. The person who stole it has power over the Hessian. Here is why the Headless One has returned through the gate of the Tree of the Dead. He chops heads until his own is restored to him.”

“But what person?” Young Masbath looks from Sam to Dean. Dean is silent for a moment then chuckles, watching the knowing grin on his brother's face. “What person has something to gain from all three murders?”

Town Square - Church

Wagons, horses and townspeople swarm. A crowd empties the town's general store. Provisions are passed along, man to man, and loaded onto wheelbarrows. Sam, Dean and Young Masbath ride, passing by many angry faces who leer up at them. All up and down the long straight road, homeowners board up windows with lumber. The three stop, tying their horses in front of the "NOTARY." Sam looks down the road, people are headed to the church.

“Sanctuary.” Sam looks to Dean. “Or, so they hope.”

“The hysteria will only build from here.” Dean claps a hand on Young Masbath’s shoulder. People carry supplies into the church, within the bordering wrought iron fence. Others work to build and erect massive wooden crosses. In the crowd here, Reverend Steenwyck spots the constables and Young Masbath, pushes past people, shouting... “There they are! There!” The reverend hollers. People begin to pay attention to Steenwyck as he climbs atop a crate, pointing toward the Winchesters. “The desecrators of Christian burial! Twice they met the Horseman, and kept their heads! How is it so?” Turning toward the notary Sam tries to ignore the scene before him and heads inside, as a clod of earth hits him on the shoulder. In the churchyard, Steenwyck continues his rant. “The Devil protects his own!” Inside they find themselves in a small, untidy room with piles of dusty documents in great disorder. The Notary Hardenbrook looks at Sam with his one good eye. Young Masbath stands nearer to Dean. “I take it, Mr. Hardenbrook, that wills and testaments are held here on public record?” Sam inquires, pulling off his riding gloves one at a time. Hardenbrook is in a funk, trying to act calm. He knows what they’ve come for and passes a document across the desk. “I believe this is what you wish to see. Take it and go!” Sam and Dean lean in,  scanning the will of Peter Van Garrett. “Van Garrett Senior left his estate to his next of kin, that is to say, to his only son. However, the son was also murdered.” Hardenbrook explains. “The next of kin after the son would be the eldest of the line from Van Garrett's father's sister...none other than the Baltus Van Tassel: something else no one thought to mention?” Sam’s eyes flick up to the man, ignoring Dean shifting beside him. “Well, you have found your way to it, and I hope you will leave now before my windows are broken.”

The crowd murmurs outside like angry bees. Sam flourishes the will in his hand. “My brother is not ready to leave,” Dean smirks widening his stance. Hardenbrook starts moaning and wringing his hands. “A brick through your window is not what puts you in terror, Hardenbrook - there is something else. I saw your fear, and Steenwyck's, and the doctor's when you met at Philipse's house... Philipse paid with his head, and you fear for your own,” Sam surmises much to the notary’s horror. “Yes, it's true!” Hardenbrook shouts. “But we did not know it was a murdering plot when we were drawn in!” Dean steps forward. “Drawn in by whom?!” “Mercy upon me!” Hardenbrook exclaims, clasping his hands. “We meant no harm to come to her!” “No harm to come to whom?” Sam leans in.

“But the marriage made her next of kin…” Hardenbrook babbles on as Sam is losing his patience. “Made who next of kin to whom?!” Sam shouts. “You’ve yet to offer any real answer.” “He means old Van Garrett secretly married the Widow Winship.” Young Masbath is the one to clarify. “Of course!” Sam is starting to catch on. “And Van Garrett made a new will, leaving everything to her and his unborn child... So she stood between Baltus and the legacy! Where is the will?” Hardenbrook is beginning to panic, looking around the room, eyes wild. “I cannot be seen to help you! The Horseman will come for me!” “We will not leave without the very last will and testament in question.” The younger Winchester stands his ground as Dean crosses his arms over his chest. Hardenbrook digs into a mountain of documents, hurling handfuls into the air and flings the second will at Sam. Young Masbath nervously checks the door. “Go, then! I am a dead man!” The old man cries, he starts to sob. “Sir-” Young Masbath starts. “Young Masbath...I know why your father died. That night when Van Garrett quarreled with his son, Jonathan Masbath was summoned upstairs to witness the new Will. Here is your father's signature. It was his death warrant.” Young Masbath takes the document and looks at it tearfully. “But the secret was not safe. Mrs. Killian the midwife was forewarned the baby was coming -- and so she, too, had to die.” One of the other hurled documents fluttered down fortuitously in front of Sam. Dean picks it up. “The marriage certificate,” Dean confirms. “Parson Steenwyck married them. Doctor Lancaster confirmed the widow was pregnant. She told the secret to Magistrate Philipse. Notary Hardenbrook concealed the documents.” Hardenbrook snivels and moans and wrings his hands. “And you all kept silence!” Sam turns to the notary. “Why? For some nameless dread of the man who stood to gain by it - Baltus Van Tassel!”

VAN TASSEL HOUSE

Sam, Dean and Young Masbath start up the stairs, noticing Baltus, alone, with a glass of liquor, is brooding over an oak coffer of silver, running coins through his fingers. The constables continue with Young Masbath, speaking quietly. “I think there is some error in your reasoning,” Young Masbath interjects.

“Really?” Sam looks to his brother. “Do give us the benefit of your insight.” “All these murders, just so that Baltus Van Tassel should inherit yet more land and property?” Masbath shakes his head. “Precisely,” Dean confirms. “Men murder for profit. Possibly you don't know New York?”

“If you had seen the things we have young man you would not hesitate to believe-” Sam stops short seeing his bedroom door ajar. He carefully pushes the door open, surprised to find you at his desk, reading his ledger.

“Y/N, why are you in my room?” “Because it is yours.” You smile softly, eyes darting to your handsome constable. “Is it wicked of me?” “No,” Sam can’t help the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth at the sight of you. “Of course not.” “I missed you. Where did you go?” “To the Notary.” Sam forces an even expression, dreading the idea of telling you that he suspects your father. “I had questions to ask Hardenbrook.” “And did you learn anything of interest?” You crane your neck to look at him like the prettiest flower trying to arch closer to the warm sun and Sam feels ill. Sam and Dean exchange a glance. “Well...perhaps.” Sam falters, heat rising in his cheeks. “My father-” you start and Sam nearly jumps out of his boots. “Your father...?”

“Yes,” you nod, eyes narrowing at his strange disposition. Perhaps a night with you has set him on edge. “My father thinks you should return to New York.” “Really?” Sam balks, as Dean sucks in a breath. “Why is that?” “I don't know,” you smirk, looking at Sam’s handsome face. “Perhaps he looked in your ledger and did not like what he saw.” You leave the ledger open on the desk. Sam steps over to look. Dean follows in tandem. It is a page of doodles with the name "Y/N" written several times, and a sketch of you, beautifully intricate.

Embarrassed, Sam slams the ledger closed. “He believes townsfolk and country do not mix,” you offer. Sam opens the drawer in the desk and puts away the document he took from the Notary. He is nervous because he knows they point to complicity by Y/N's father. Young Masbath, watching, understands this, Sam locks the drawer and pockets the key. “What have you there?” you inquire. “Evidence,” Sam explains. “I'm sorry, I must ask for a few moments of privacy.” “Then I will leave you to your thoughts. Sleep well, Constable.” You brush past him, letting your hand brush over his, a subtle invitation. You leave and Sam looks to Dean, saving his commentary for when they’re truly alone.

“Look at that.” Sam points to a huge spider scuttling under his bed. Dean takes a step back, wincing at the sight of it. He’s never liked them. “It's only a spider.” Young Masbath smiles at the older constable. “Why don’t you keep an eye on it. Make sure it doesn’t crawl its way into my room.”

“I saw where it went.” Young Masbath kneels down, looking under Sam’s bed. He turns back to the constables. “There’s something under here.” “Kill it!” Dean offers.

“Why don’t we simply put it outside.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Let me help you move the bed.” Young Masbath and Sam move the bed only to reveal a strange pentagram drawn in chalk on the floorboards. “The Evil Eye!” The boy backs away. “What is it?” Dean inquires, leaning down to inspect the sigil.

“It is someone casting spells against you.” The boy confirms, looking away as if the mark might take hold of him if he inspects it too closely. “An evil eye,” Sam repeats, staring at the spider sitting in the middle of the Pentagram.

Van Tassel House - Y/N’s Room

“Shhh,” Sam hisses, his nose pressed into your cheek. “Someone will hear us if you keep on like this.”

While he’s right, there’s also a hint of pride in his voice as he takes you from behind, half bent over the heavy wooden vanity. You’re standing on shaky legs with your nightgown around your waist, unable to stifle the desperate pants flowing from between your lips.

“I’ll try to control myself,” you gasp, reaching up and behind to fist a hand in his hair. Twisting to the side you catch his mouth is a sweet, lingering kiss. He’s feeling better, he must be, because he’s fucking you so hard it’s taking the breath right out of your lungs. There’s nothing but lust and unbridled pleasure as his cock moves inside you, again and again, slick running down your thighs. Curling forward he deepens a second kiss as a hand snakes between your legs, finding your bud with sinful precision. He swallows your gasp, nearly growling in response.

Your breath hastens as he strums your body like a well-trained musician. It’s his expert touch combined with the deep stretch of his hard prick that sends you over the edge into ecstasy. You cum with a muffled shout, his hand clapping over your mouth as you arch backward, cunt clutching and squeezing him inside you.

“Perfect,” he mutters, jaw tightening. Grabbing your hips he moves faster and faster, his strokes unrelenting as you shake and shutter. He chases his own release, hips smacking into your backside until he lets out a long, low moan and pulls out. He cums over your buttocks, shooting warm and thick, stroking himself until he’s fully satisfied.

“I’ve made a mess of you,” he chuckles breathlessly, placing a kiss just behind your ear.

“I don’t mind one bit,” you laugh, blissfully exhausted. Using a handkerchief he wipes you clean, before tucking himself back into his pants. The moment you turn around his arms engulf your waist, twisting together at the small of your back. There’s such a familiar feeling when he holds you close. Being with Sam feels like a safe, happy place that you find yourself longing for when he’s not near.

“I can’t stay,” he explains softly. He’s beautiful in the candlelight, the small lines around his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.

“But you must!” you whine, sliding both hands over his chest.

“I wish I could.” One hand abandons your hips in favor of your cheek, thumb stroking back and forth. “But while the Horseman is at large I don’t have the luxury of spending my nights in your bed.”  

“Please be careful,” you insist, searching his eyes. “I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. I know you’re healing but-”

“I’ll be fine,” he counters, dipping down for a soft kiss. He presses his nose into your cheek, squeezes you as close as he can, nearly taking your feet off the floor. “I have Dean to look after me. There’s no one better suited for the job.”

“I have to admit I’m interested to know what you find out.” You grin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitch. You’re curious by nature and truly eager to find out more about this mystery that’s consumed your life.

“All will be revealed.”

Sam leaves you with one last kiss. And then another. By the time he finally leaves, your lips are swollen and heart bursting with the promise of what’s to come.

Later That Night... Sam and Dean are sitting awake in Dean’s room, silently waiting as the hands of the clock tick past midnight.

“Are you sure you want the answer you may find, brother?” Dean asks, rubbing his finger over the amulet in his hand, a token from their uncle.

“What does that mean?” Sam’s eyes shoot up, back straightening.

“You know full well what I mean. There are layers of secrets here, secrets that may put a stop to your romance.” Dean grins slyly at his brother. “We could leave, go back to New York. You could take the girl with you.”

“If she and I are meant to be she will come with us when the time comes regardless of what puzzles we may solve.” Sam nods firmly, trying to convince himself as much as Dean.

The truth is you are all he thinks about. And he is afraid that their investigation may drive a wedge between you but he can’t stop now. His scrupulous morals won’t let him.

They hear a door creak open and then the creak of the stairs. Sam motions to Dean as he lights a candle. They wait for a few moments and then carefully open the door and sneak out of the room.

They remove their shoes when they come to the stairs, wary of alerting anyone to their presence. A floorboard creaks in a room at the end of the hallway and they freeze as Sam blows out the candle in his lantern. There’s a light coming from under the door as they inch closer. Footsteps are heard, then a door opening and closing. “Outside,” Dean whispers as he and Sam creep outside in the pitch black of night in their stocking feet. They follow a faint lantern light moving in the distance. “What do you think we’re about to come upon?” Sam questions, stopping on the hillside as his eyes adjust to the dark. “I have no idea.” Dean shakes his head and they advance, both men peering forward to look through the thicket of trees. There’s a lantern sitting on a rock and on the ground, on a blanket are a man and woman in the midst of rather rough sex.

Sam’s eyes widen and Dean cocks his head as they move closer. The couple continues to fuck, oblivious to their audience. The man is on top of the woman, grunting desperately.  He’s giving it to the woman as hard he can. The woman lies back and her face is revealed as Lady Van Tassel. Dean reaches over and slaps Sam who shoos his hand away. Lady Van Tassel pulls down the man's shirt, exposing his flesh. She raises a small, sharp knife behind his back. Sam is about to shout a warning but Dean stops him.

They watch as Lady Van Tassel brings the blade down to her own hand, slicing deep into her palm. Blood flows and she rubs the cut over her partners back, smearing red blood. She then caresses the man’s chest, neck, and face, trailing blood until he’s covered. The man lifts his head, in apparent ecstasy as he sucks on the woman’s fingers revealing he’s none other than the Reverend Steenwyck.

The constables back away, having seen more than enough. When they return to the house Young Masbath is waiting for them. “What was there?” the boy asks Dean.

“Something I wish I had not seen. A beast with two backs.” “A beast with two backs?” Young Masbath mumbles in amazement. “What is next in these bewitched woods?!”

“Dean,” Sam shoots a warning shot. “Don’t tease the boy.” The three of them make their way back to Sam’s room. His desk drawer is visibly open, and he inspects it already knowing the worst. The documents have been taken. Young Masbath suddenly sniffs the air. He signals to Dean. He sniffs again, pointing to the grate in the fireplace as the source of the smell: the documents burned to ashes. “Someone is working against us.” Sam ticks his jaw, anger bubbling to the surface.

[artificialqueens]

Mateo's Eight, chapter three (Branjie)--athena2

Summary: Previously: Brooke agreed to work with Vanessa Now: Vanessa goes through the plan of the heist as her team meets for the first time

A/N: Thank you so much for your feedback on this so far! I would really appreciate it if you could comment on this chapter. Your support means so much to me and helps encourage me. A thousand thank you’s to Writ for being the best beta!

Vanessa is up at the crack of dawn her first full day as a free woman, hoping she’ll return to her old ways of sleeping until 10 soon, especially now that she no longer has her job at the makeup store. Going to prison doesn’t help in the job department, and it makes her feel even worse that her mom is working a double shift today. Sometimes she would be so exhausted she’d fall asleep still in her nursing scrubs, and Vanessa wants more than ever to make things easier for her.

Her bed is too soft to leave, like a giant marshmallow beneath her. She’s buried under so many blankets it makes her sweat, but she’s too cozy under their fluffy softness to kick them off.

She eats her cereal with an eye on the clock as her mom rushes to get ready, each minute dragging like time itself is stuck in quicksand.

The second her mom leaves for work, with more kisses heaped on Vanessa’s cheek, she shoots up from the table and gets the place ready. It’s like how she used to wait for her parents to go out for the night so she could have friends over, right down to the soda and chips and pretzels she sets out for Yvie, only this time they’re discussing a million-dollar heist instead of post-prom plans. Hopefully the apartment won’t be trashed after, but you never know with Silky.

A’keria and Silky arrive first, lugging boxes and bags of Vanessa’s stuff that they had taken from her and Brooke’s apartment. Vanessa tears through them, grabbing her fuzzy slippers and running her hands over the smooth jewelry box, like she’s regaining part of herself in the clothes and jewelry and dog mug.

She digs up a gray sweatshirt much too big for her, because of course one of Brooke’s things got mixed in. Vanessa used to steal the sweatshirt from Brooke’s dresser and wear it to bed in the winter, the thing so warm and oversized it was like being wrapped in a giant blanket. She’d tuck her arms inside the sleeves and bury her nose in the soft fabric, breathing in the smell of Brooke’s lavender body wash and another calming, cozy scent that was just Brooke, no way to describe it or how safe it made her feel. Vanessa wonders what it smells like now–

A knock on the door tears her away. Yvie and Scarlet try to hide grins as they stand together, mumbling that getting here at the same time is a coincidence, but Scarlet has purple lipstick in the corner of her lip when no one wears purple lipstick but Yvie.

Nina teeters in with a box of donuts that she passes out to everyone like a white, suburban Oprah, refusing to sit until she makes sure everyone has been fed.

“Is anyone else coming?” Yvie asks. “These are good chips, by the way,” she mumbles, pulling the bowl from Silky’s lap into her own.

Vanessa meets A’keria’s eyes. “Just one more,” Vanessa says, pacing around the living room. Brooke said she was coming. Vanessa’s careful combination of money and threats had gotten her, like she knew they would. If not for the money so Brooke could take care of those bills just as big as Vanessa’s, then to cover her own ass.

“Hi.” Brooke appears out of nowhere, still graceful as ever, her steps silent on the creaky apartment floor.

Vanessa digs her nails into her palms to stamp out the rage. Brooke is here. She’s in Vanessa’s apartment, standing there, and it’s all she can do not to punch her in the face.

“What the hell?” Silky asks.

“Sorry I’m late.” Brooke squeaks.

Vanessa scoffs. It was impossible for Brooke Lynn Hytes to be late. She had probably been born on her exact due date clutching a watch in her little fist, motioning for the doctors to hurry up. It was why, as much as a pain in the ass she was about it, their cons always worked, Brooke timing everything with perfection.

“You weren’t late,” Vanessa shoots back. “You were the first one here, but you went around the block a million times ‘cause you’re a coward and didn’t want to show up first.”

A’keria chokes on her soda and Scarlet whacks her on the back.

“Donut?” Nina offers Brooke.

“I’ll take another,” Yvie says.

Out of the corner of Vanessa’s eye, Silky tries to casually sweep up the chocolate donut crumbs she got all over the couch.

Vanessa just sighs, because this is her team, for better or worse.

“I’m here now,” Brooke says cautiously, cheeks tinged pink.

“Yeah, you are.” Vanessa allows herself one look at the person who betrayed her.

She looks good, as much as Vanessa doesn’t want to admit it. Brooke still manages to make skinny jeans and a black sweater look like they came straight off the runway, making Vanessa’s heart lift as she forces it down. Brooke’s tired, though. Vanessa can see it, knows to look in her eyes, where she couldn’t hide the exhaustion that makeup and her perfect posture concealed. Her long fingers play with her sweater cuff and her lip is chewed-up, both signs of nerves. Good. If Vanessa’s caused Brooke sleepless nights and fidgety fingers and burning lips, it’s only what she deserves.

Brooke sits on the couch and pulls out her notebook. That damn notebook. It’s covered in little cartoon cats, because Brooke loves cats, had wanted to adopt one eventually. Who cares what she loves, Vanessa reminds herself. She certainly didn’t love you. But that doesn’t matter. Brooke is in her debt now, and Vanessa is in control.

“So,” Vanessa begins, feeling like a teacher in front of the class, especially as she turns on the TV connected to her laptop, “I have a plan.

“In three weeks, the Met is hosting a ball for their new historical costume and jewelry exhibit. Place is gonna be crawling with money. And I want to steal. Not the Met, but one necklace.”

“A necklace?” Yvie asks in confusion. “What are we, ten-year-old’s in Claire’s?”

“Hold all questions for the end, please,” Vanessa snaps.

She brandishes her arm for dramatic effect and clicks the next slide on her laptop. “The actress Plastique Tiara will be at the event, in a dress designed by Scarlet–” Scarlet waves to the room like a Disney princess on parade, “–who will convince Plastique to wear this 112 million dollar diamond necklace.”

Everyone blinks in confusion as Vanessa brings up a slide featuring the necklace, but she plows on. “Using our combined skills, we will get in the ball, take the necklace, replace it with a worthless copy, and leave with 16 million dollars each.”

Vanessa grins smugly in the chorus of gasps that ring out and fade into awestruck silence. She can see everyone’s heads spinning, comprehending a number they–and most people–have never seen, taking in the freedom that number will give them, freedom they’ve never had. The freedom to live where they want and do what they want, to never have to worry about medical bills or loans or home repairs or emergencies.

The only sound is the scratching of Brooke’s pen. The glide of her pen used to be like music to Vanessa’s ears, and she could trace the gentle curves of Brooke’s neat handwriting for hours. Now, it just sets her teeth on edge, makes her burn with aggravation.

Nina is the first to speak. “Pardon my French, everyone,” she says, “but holy fuck.”

—

It only takes Vanessa about ten minutes into her date with Brooke to see that beneath her cool, calm exterior, she’s really just an adorable dork.

That easy grace Brooke had moved with in the department store flies out the window as she nearly trips over her own giraffe legs to open the door for Vanessa, and she gasps in excitement when she finds out the diner serves breakfast all day.

“You a breakfast for dinner person?” Vanessa asks.

Brooke nods eagerly. “Why, are you a dinner-foods-for-dinner person?”

“Nah. I’m all for eating whatever I want at any time of day.”

“Exactly!” Brooke’s eyes sparkle and it makes Vanessa’s heart soar. “Like, what makes bacon and eggs only breakfast food?”

“Yeah! If I want pancakes for dinner and pizza for breakfast, who’s gonna stop me?” Vanessa claps eagerly as their plates arrive, French toast and bacon for Brooke and grilled cheese with fries for Vanessa.

Vanessa grabs the ketchup and drenches her fries.

“You put ketchup over the fries?” Brooke asks in horror.

“Yeah, why?”

“You have to dip them! There’s no control over how much ketchup you get per fry when you put it on top!”

“I just want to put it all on at once, Mary!”

Brooke shakes her head. “Unbelievable. Next you’ll be telling me you put the milk in before the cereal.” But she grins around her mouthful of bacon.

“Of course I don’t put the milk first. I’m not an animal.” Vanessa laughs and holds a ketchup-soaked fry out to Brooke, which she pulls from Vanessa’s fingers with her teeth. Vanessa can’t even breathe at having Brooke this close to her, close enough to see tiny flecks of gray in her green eyes, which only popped out in certain lighting.

“So, um, where do you work?” Brooke asks.

“I do makeup at one of the beauty stores,” Vanessa answers. “Most people tip pretty good, but it ain’t enough to pay the bills we got, y’know?”

“Is that why you started conning? If it’s okay for me to ask that?” Brooke says.

“It’s okay. And yeah. My dad, he was…he was sick. Insurance barely covered anything, and the medical bills just kept piling up. He died a few months ago, and we still got the medical bills, and the funeral bills, and…it’s a lot.” Vanessa just shakes her head. She and her mother both work full-time and hardly make a dent in the bills after rent and utilities. She doesn’t understand how her father getting sick, through no fault of his own, could result in almost $100,000 worth of debt. It’s like trying to bring down a mountain one pebble at a time, with the mountain growing each day, too big to see the top.

“I’m really sorry,” Brooke says. Her hand hesitantly slides across the table, and Vanessa doesn’t even think of whether she should, whether they’re at that point yet, before she grabs it. It’s cool and solid and soft, helping her focus on something besides bills and dead fathers.

“It’s okay,” Vanessa says. She and her mother have helped each get through his illness and his passing, and she feels awful for thinking it, but it’s made them closer, united in the memories of the man they both lost.

“It makes me mad, you know?” Brooke’s eyes flicker with intensity. “That we still work and have to do this just to get by. I have medical bills too, and the heat broke in my apartment last week and I had to do a scam just to pay for the repair, even though I teach full-time at a dance studio. Some people don’t have to worry about that. Some people–”

“Some people buy freaking yachts ‘cause they’re outta shit to buy,” Vanessa says.

“Yes!” Brooke exclaims. “You really get it. Get me.” Her eyes shine in surprise, like she can’t believe what she just said, but Vanessa has already thought it.

“Yeah,” Vanessa agrees, reaching over to snatch a piece of Brooke’s bacon. “And if you ever have heating problems again, my place is really warm. Maybe you could even show me some dance moves.” She bats her eyelashes.

It’s a risk to throw something like out there, especially on a first date, but Brooke’s smile is all the reward Vanessa needs.

—

Vanessa stands tall in her living room, everyone on the couches still recovering from her announcement, hisses of 16 million slipping into Vanessa’s ears.

“Can I talk to you?”

Vanessa sighs. Leave it to Brooke to interrupt her moment of blissful triumph for questions. Vanessa leads her down the hall, grumbling about buzzkills under her breath.

She crosses her arms and stands expectantly in front of Brooke, raising an eyebrow to show that she’s not giving an inch in this, that Brooke better stop raking a hand through her hair and speak.

“So, do they know?” Brooke begins.

“Know what?”

“What the real mark is,” Brooke says. “I know you. I can see the bigger target here.”

I know you.

Vanessa can’t help but feel that rush of warmth at Brooke knowing her so well, remembering that connection she and Brooke once had, when they could look at each other and have entire conversations with eyebrow-raises and smirks. Brooke always knew her plans, always got what she was trying to do like no one else. It had been a relief back then, to have someone she could trust, who just knew her, knew her coffee order and favorite movies and how to cheer her up when she was upset. A comfort to know she wasn’t alone, that she had someone.

But now, it’s infuriating. That she had given all those parts of her to Brooke, and now Brooke would always have them even when Vanessa wants to take them back. Like no matter how clever she thinks she is, Brooke can see right through her. Vanessa can never free herself from that connection they had, a connection Brooke severed clean in a police station six months ago.

“They don’t,” Vanessa admits, “And I’m not gonna tell them. It’s safer that way. Less chance of someone giving me up.” She spits the last three words at Brooke with the strongest death glare she’s ever managed. If looks could kill, the whole street would be dead. Brooke at least has the decency to look embarrassed, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.

“Vanessa, I never meant–”

Vanessa raises her hand to shush Brooke. “Don’t. Just don’t. Go over your notes, tell me if it’ll work. You do your job, I pay you, and I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“Okay.”

Now it’s Brooke’s turn to stand, still as a statue, notebook outstretched in a gloat. Her face is impassive even though Vanessa knows how much she needs this money, and steam nearly comes out of her ears. Brooke can stand here all day, with those stupid dancer legs of hers, and Vanessa needs to move this along and get back to her group before Silky and A’keria have a repeat of last year’s pillow fight.

“So, tell me. Is this gonna work?” Vanessa finally cracks, ignoring how Brooke’s smile makes her own lips twitch up, a muscle memory.

“It can work, yes. But…”

“But what?”

“This is risky. It’s risky, and intricate, and if I’m sticking my neck out like this, I want to be involved, so I can make sure this is done properly.”

The words slam into Vanessa, filling her with rage. Brooke didn’t trust her to do this, when Vanessa had planned the entire thing herself, foresaw every possible conclusion and solved every possible problem while behind the bars Brooke put her in. Brooke didn’t trust her, when they had once trusted each other with everything.

“Pretty rich of you to not trust me when you’re the one who ratted me out,” Vanessa says.

Brooke sighs. “Vanessa–”

“Whatever. You want to be involved how? You’re gonna be there the night of the ball, what else do you want?” Vanessa demands, certain she doesn’t like where this is going.

“I want to be there when you make most of the moves,” Brooke says.

“Hell no! I’m not lettin’ you breathe down my neck the whole time!”

“You have a lot to do,” Brooke argues. “You need to schedule a meeting with Scarlet and Plastique to make sure Plastique wears the necklace. Vogue has already starting hiring ball assistants and I’m assuming you’re gonna send Nina inside, so you need to get her an interview–”

“I know what I have to do!” Vanessa snaps, reluctantly impressed at how fast Brooke’s mind works, how quickly she put the pieces together. Brooke saw cons as puzzles, each step an interlocking piece to build the picture Vanessa dreamed, her focus more on the goal and how her charm could get them there.

“Then you also know you need me,” Brooke states. No emotion, no hint of desire, just pure, hard fact. “The organization this is gonna take, the scheduling…you need me.”

Vanessa clenches her fists. She had tried to downplay her desperation on the phone, but obviously Brooke picked up on it. Vanessa might be able to do this without Brooke, but can she take that chance on something this big, this important, this life-changing?

“Fine.” Vanessa sighs. “Meet me at the Met Friday at 10. Yvie’s working on a blindspot in their security cameras and I’m gonna test it. Can you get Nina that interview?”

Brooke nods. She looks at her shoes before pulling a piece of paper from her pocket, the familiar motion making Vanessa dizzy. “This is my new number. Just thought you might need it.”

Vanessa shoves the paper in her pocket and heads back into the living room without waiting to see if Brooke is behind her. She used to walk without checking because she knew Brooke would always be there, would always have her back. Now she does it because she just doesn’t care.

Vanessa stands in front of them, forgetting her annoyance of having to work with Brooke in favor of the pride and riches she would earn after this.

“Okay, everyone,” Vanessa says, “welcome to Mateo’s Eight.”

“There’s only seven of us.”

Vanessa huffs in exasperation. “Damn it, Yvie, c’mon, this was my big moment!”

“Well, there is.”

Vanessa bites her lip and makes a quick head count. Math never was her strong suit. But Mateo’s Seven just doesn’t have the same ring, so she scoops up Riley from where he’s latched on to Brooke’s ankle–the traitor; he always jumped on Brooke when she walked in the apartment, even if she had only been gone an hour–and hoists him into the air.

“Riley’s number eight. I don’t want to hear arguing.” She straightens her posture, trying to get back her earlier confidence, wishing there was some heroic music in the background.

“Welcome to Mateo’s Eight.”

[asrasotherbottom]

First, I hope you get all the support and love you deserve dear. ^^ You are FANTASTIC! Second, I am clinically depressed with high anxiety. How would the six handle someone with those qualities? The fretting and low, days where you want to disappear, worrying that no one really cares it just an act?

Thank you!

I’m writing this based on my experiences and the experiences of those close to me, and i 100% understand those aren’t universal. and my interpretations of the characters are not Law or universal. I just wanna say blanketly, that I hope youre doing alright and that you also get the support and love you deserve and that you are safe. Content warning for suicidal ideation (that feeling where youd rather just not exist without like A Desire to act), anxiety, depression. Under a readmore so please take care of yourself and don’t click if you might be negatively effected by reading about this also its long as hell.  

Suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386.

Asra:

- His heart literally aches with you

-Brings you tea in bed for days that you cant leave bed either because depression or because anxiety

-Will sit with you for hours just so you’re not alone, even if youre feeling awful. 

-Cares 50000% less about the shop than he does about you, and if youre having a bad brain day he will just lock up and sit with you and hold your hand. 

-Will encourage you to get out a little if you can, maybe for a nice walk in the woods to collect mushrooms with him because sometimes getting out and doing something helps. 

-Is good at finding secluded secret ways to get around bc fuck people. 

-He’s bffs with Muriel so hes pretty good with dealing with self loathing and anxiety already. 

-Asra i think has a really good response to the “nobody cares and its just an act” because his magic mark will just glow when he puts his hand over your heart and its really hard to argue with “made a deal with the devil to resurrect you” if the argument is “nobody actually cares” and that was 100% his choice and hes not afraid to tell you that. 

-Can, will, wants to, just ramble at you at length about how much he loves you and exactly why and will spend hours refuting your arguments which is tiring but maybe helps you feel a little better by the end. 

-If things are just So Bad? If you want to disappear? he’ll nap with you just to be close to you and keep you safe.

-Will bring you to his oasis to walk around and help keep you safe if you really just want to disappear and he’ll try to cheer you up there which is admittedly mostly just pointing at tiny weird magic bugs and stars (but at least your body is safe). 

-Deep deep down he’s still the person who brought his mom a button when she was sick so he’ll try anything to cheer you up. Faust too. 

-He’ll even talk to Julian to see if he knows anything or anything to ease your pain a little. 

-Will sit and just Listen to all your pain and be just Present for you. 

-He loves you more than life itself and will definitely be receptive to anything you say about things that might help.

Julian-

-Extremely similar hat. 

-But goddamnit if you made HIM feel better about being alive and worthy and deserving of love, he is absolutely going to return the favor. 

-Anxiety? he knows all the back alleys to avoid people

-Doesn’t mind staying home from the rowdy raven to sit with you if youre too anxious to go. 

-If you need a small dark quiet place to be alone and calm down? Hes got just the place (the hole at maz’s and he’ll even come in with you if you want because it makes you smile to see you both try to cram in there)

-Depression or anxiety making food hard? Some of maz’s soup will fix you right up.

-You find him in the middle of the night pouring over medical texts about depression and anxiety, looking for anything to help you at all. 

-He’ll sit up with you on nights that you cant sleep because of anxiety or because youre just too sad. 

-He’ll definitely lay in bed with you while you cry. 

-He found someone who truly and entirely loves him and he will cling to you for dear life, and tell you all the things he loves about you whenever you need or want to hear them. 

-He probably is gonna try a leech at least once. 

-Brings you to the docks at night because its calm and peaceful and away from everything. 

-After his upright end he definitely learned the importance of a support system and isnt afraid to enlist it to help keep you happy and safe. 

Nadia-

- Shes extremely concerned that someone who lights up her entire life can be so sad. 

-But shes not about to sit back and do Nothing. 

-She can and will cancel any event or meeting if it means she can sit in bed with you and hold you while you cry or if her presence with you soothes some of your anxiety. 

-She’ll bring you to her contemplation tower if you need a place to just get away from everything thats making you anxious. 

-Will also bring you to the magical realms to help keep you safe and help cheer you up. 

-Enlists the finest doctors that she can find if you’d like. 

-She’ll take long baths with you where you two can just sit in the hot water and you can cry while she strokes your hair. 

-If you feel like shes just faking her affections towards you then expect a bit of a surprised scoff followed by a 4 hour powerpoint presentation about every single thing she loves about you and how you make her feel 

-You feel like youre not good enough? “I’m the fucking countess and i could have had literally anyone in vesuvia or beyond but i want you” 

-Will pick you up and spin you if she sees you smile because shes just so happy to see you happy. 

-Horseback riding as a way to help clear your head and escape anxiety is a given. 

-Shes really attentive to making sure you stay fed, in fresh clothes, and bathed, even during bad depressive times so that it doesnt pile on to your bad feelings.

Muriel-

-If not same hat then EXTREMELY similar hat

-Lives in the forest so hes all about that avoiding social anxiety life. 

-If you ever feel unsafe Inanna can and will lay entirely on top of you. 

-Feeding chickens and petting inanna as anxiety relief for both of you. 

-He’ll definitely hold you against his chest or with your head in his lap while you cry if you need it. 

-Muriel hates seeing you sad, and doesnt always know exactly what to do or say but he’ll make you eggs all the time to make sure youre still eating when youre sad. 

-Will remind you that youre like the only person hes ever truly let in to his heart and he doesnt want to lose you.

-Will also remind you that he gave you the myrrh voluntarily because he….wants you to remember him. hes never wanted to be remembered before. he never asked for it back. 

- He really empathizes with wanting to disappear but he doesnt want that when hes with you and he wants to work hard to help you feel the same way with him. 

-Long quiet walks in the forest together. 

-He’ll take you stargazing and tell you all the things he loves about the beauty of the forest and the stars…and you. 

-Big Hugs for Big Sads

-Enlists asra and nadia’s help if he feels he needs it, but he cares about you enough that he’d willingly seek out help for you. 

Portia-

-Yeets pepi at you Like A Football. 

-”Peep?? Peep Peep”

-Youre gonna feel better if it kills her. 

-Gardening to help with sadness, touching dirt always helps. She’ll spend hours with you in the garden, helping you create like beauty with your hands. 

-Chase the goddamn cockatoo with a broom to make you smile. 

-Enlist’s Maz and Maz’s soup as well. 

-Helps you find secret passageways to hide in when your anxiety is too much. 

-Too sad to leave bed? Portia will carry you and your blanket. 

-Is having none of that “oh what if you dont actually love me” business. She’s super used to Julian’s self loathing and depression that shes moved on to slightly tougher love. 

-She loves you and shes going to keep telling you that and shes not going anywhere. 

-She gets soft when you cry though and will cling to you for dear life and not move for hours. 

-”How dare you talk about the person i love like that” - Portia, to you, when you talk about reasons you hate yourself. 

-Cries with you though. 

-Doesn’t like when she has to go to work when you’re in a bad mental space so shes asks nadia for you to have just a nice room in the palace reserved for you that you can lay in so she can come check on you during the day. 

-Shes great for bad anxiety days because she has no problem doing social interactions for you. The thought of going to buy some herbs brings you to tears? No problem, she has no idea what herbs shes buying but shes Gonna Do It. 

-The strength of Portias hugs is liable to just squeeze the depression right out of you along with also your internal organs probably. 

Lucio-

-”How can you be depressed?? You’re dating ME, the COUNT! ……….Can I help?”

-He definitely tries to use his sex appeal to lighten your mood, it probably works sometimes (or at least gets a laugh out). 

-Gets extremely startled when you cry but holds you tight against him. 

-Cancels meetings, cancels plants, cancels the entirety of the Vesuvia if he has to in order to stay in bed with you when youre having a bad depression day. 

-You can cry into M&M’s fur as long as you’re not wearing any makeup :P

-Gets worried and hides the pointy tips for his gauntlet. 

-Absolutely having none of the “nobody really cares and its just an act” hes the COUNT! He could have anyone anytime he wanted! You were the first warmth and compassion he felt in years! The first person to really actually love him for /him/! he gets way more emotional than he plans to but he feels very strongly about this

- 4 hour powerpoint presentation on all the reasons hes into you

-Tries really hard to find material things that will help your mood. Gold? Silk? Furs? Sweets? Watching fistfights? Anything?

- He knows what its like to really disappear and hes not about to let that happen to you. 

-He’ll never admit it to anyone but you but hes clinging to you with everything he has and he will work tirelessly to help support you. 

-”Will petting my hair help you relax”

-Ropes Julian, Nadia,and Asra into things to help you, but they dont mind because its You theyre helping really. 

-Anxiety? “Oh don’t worry, I’ll make /sure/ all eyes are on me” it maybe doesnt help exactly as intended but watching him be ridiculous eases the tension a little. 

-Deep deep down he knows in his soul Deep Sadness and it makes him surprisingly good at supporting you. 

i hope this was what you wanted!!!! 

[painandpleasure86]

Sequel of Lazing of a Sunday Afternoon: News of our World

Hiii people!! Sorry if where u live its 20 already. I have a problems to publish before. But, i hope that you enjoy my story anyways!Prequel it's here:

https://painandpleasure86.tumblr.com/post/185954894848/im-continuing-the-story-that-kate-aka

Words: +2.1K

Warning: My inexperience and my broken English lol. Oh and its fluff af.

Pairing: John x Fem!Reader

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

Part 1

It's been a few weeks since you told him. It's still too early to tell about this to the rest, even if it's your parents.

In order not to get excited, they have agreed that the best thing to do is to have a blood test, in case there is really a pregnancy.

Your gynecologist must give you the order for this. So, you have an appointment on August 15.

It’s a beautiful morning, the sun shines. Spring feels closer and closer. This morning you have your children at home, Miguel is recovering from a flu-like illness and Rodrigo simply didn't want to go to the school. They don't usually let him decide that kind of thing, but that day they let him. He's six years old now. When you go to the kitchen, already dressed, you can't help but think "how big Rodri is. It seems like yesterday when he came in my arms and it was a little bean, hehe".

You arrive at the kitchen, your children having their chocolate with oatmeal cookies, your husband with his scrambled eggs, toast and a tea with milk. You go to the fridge and take out the jug of water. You serve yourself a glass full of water. Your babies see you and say "why don't you have breakfast with us mommy?" "Mommy has to have some medical check-ups and can't eat anything." He looks at you with a smile. You answer his smile with a bigger one. You go to him and hold him tight. "I love you, huh?", "Me too" he answers in your ear. They give each other a little kiss. Your older baby says "what's going on? Is there going to be a little sibling?"

You look at him surprised, because you don't know why Rodrigo says that... but your husband, seeing your puzzled face, says "I told him yesterday a little about you know what. And I think that whenever he sees us kissing, he's going to say that. Get ready," he says with smiles. That smile...

"Well, I gotta go. They will stay with Daddy. I promise I'll be back soon," you tell them. You get your handbag and your keys. You go to the door. The three of them go to you and hug you. He gives you many little kisses on the cheek. Your little ones hold your legs tightly. "Well guys, I'm not leaving forever," you say with a smile. "Well..." and they let you go unwillingly. Of course it hurts to leave Rodrigo and Miguel, but they're not alone. You close the door and behind you you hear. He says “Well... Men’s time.  How about... a lot of music to dance to?" "YAAAAAAAAAAY" your kiddos say. Then you hear him play his favorite song, but you can't hear his words anymore, because you're in your car...

Before you start the car, you check the time.  You're on time. Turn on the car, also the bluetooth of your car to go listening to music.  You select the entire library of your cell phone and press shuffle.  Dancing Queen sounds.  Your smile is immense.  With that joy, and the memory lived of your husband dancing on stage, backtrack and start your journey.

There is normal traffic, no traffic jams.  It's 9 o'clock in the morning, so everything is quieter.

Fifteen minutes of driving, you arrive at the office.  You park the car, you take the cell phone that was playing a song, you get off.  You go to the corresponding waiting room, waiting to be called by your doctor...

Almost ten minutes after the agreed time on the shift, he calls you.  You walk into the office.

After filling out the paperwork, he says, "Madam, the results of your annual check-up gave normal values, what happened?"  You say "I think that i’m pregnant".  He looks at you and says "I always told you to use the condom from the beginning" in a tone that simulates anger.  He writes your order.  You laugh at the discomfort and says "the thing is that I forgot... one thing led to another". He, extending the order to you, continues simulating his anger and says "later please, don't say the baby came by accident, eh!" and smiles. When you have the results, mark an appointment with me; if it's positive I'll refer you to the obstetrician".  You nod and say, "Thank you doctor, see you later.”

You're very anxious to know that you're ready for testing.

As soon as you leave the office, you go to the laboratory, which is half a block from there  You go into the center, withdraw a shift number.  You wait a few minutes.  They call you.

"Good morning", says her. You respond "Good morning" and you give her the order.

It's 10:15 in the morning. The laboratory is open until and 30. "Well, ma'am, it's still lab hours. If you have the 8-hour fast, you can wait and do it right now." Nod. After the paperwork of the health insurance, the receptionist gives you your turn and you wait for a call. Not even five minutes after you've sat down that the receptionist calls you. You enter the cubicle, you sit down. The professional would be on the side of your right arm. He asks you routine questions before a pregnancy sample (last intercourse, if you take pills, last menstrual period). Then he asks you to put your arm in the right place so he can do the extraction. Tie a rubber band over your elbow cavity. He asks you to clench your fist and squeeze hard. You do it. You look away, you're impressed to see a needle. You feel it inside you, annoying but tolerable. Moments later he says "Ready, you can open your hand..." and you turn your head in his direction again. He says "the results will be available from this afternoon, come with this order". Assentis, greet him and return home, having that cotton of your arm very strong.

You starve. So, it’s time to go home. You send a message to your husband "I'm going home! I love to everyone.😘❤️". You go to your car, get in, and put the music back in random. Don't let me down sounds, a song you once dedicated to your husband (but it's another story). You smile because of the nostalgia it gives you. And with that vibe, you start driving home.

You arrive. Your men hold you tight. "We miss you sweetie," he said, kissing you. Miguel looked with a disgusted face. And Rodrigo began to ask, "Is Mommy okay? You smile and say "yeah my love, I'm fine..."

It's nap time and you make your kids sleep, though reluctantly. It's a chance to talk to him about what happened without being suspected.

They are both sitting on one side of the bed. He looks at you, hugs you with his right arm and says "how are you?" You say to him, with his head a little low and without looking at him "I've already done the tests, I sincerely can't wait to go and get them... this is consuming me, hehehe", you say with a certain amount of anxiety. He lifts your face with the other hand so that you can see your eyes. He tells you, even having his hand on your chin, "don't get nervous. You're going to hurt the baby”. He laughs a little and continues "that home analysis for me didn't fail in this case... so, just pretend that there's a little living being among us".

You smile, with tears in your eyes "well, all right, I'll calm down... it's just that this has happened so many times, but I still can't help but get nervous. He caresses your cheek, smiling in the sweetest way. "That's my girl," he says and kisses you on the forehead. Then he hugs you, while you lay your head on his shoulder. You hug him too, very tight. “I love you, huh? You know that my feelings are truth...". He kisses your head, saying "I know it honey, I know it..." without enduring tears falling down his cheeks. Tears of happiness, not pain. Tears of feeling at home with you another day.

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

Part 2

The fate wanted that until the next day you couldn’t go to withdraw the result before. You went last minute on Friday.

You arrive hurriedly to the laboratory to remove it, the receptionist sees you with a strange face. "I've come to pick up some results. She still looks at you in surprise and says "in the name of...". You tell her your name and she looks for you in a pile of results. He finds it. She puts it in an envelope and extends it to you. "Thank you" you say a little nervous and smiling. "You're welcome, have a good night. You almost ran to the door.

When you leave the lab, you’re so eager; so you take out the paper with the result. Positive. And you have a two months pregnancy. Your husband was right.

You get home. All three receive you. "Mommy's okay?" asks Rodrigo. "Yes, my love... very well," you say, looking at your husband and smiling. Then he hugs you much harder than usual. He says in your ear "I told you so, baby...". They both endure the crying. Miguel then says "they seem very happy. I like see a happy mommy and daddy" and he hugs you even stronger. But Rodrigo suspects that there is something strange...

August 19th. The big day.

He's still sleeping in bed, very deeply. You and your children approached him very slowly. You sat on the edge of the bed, trying to be stealthy. But your children jumped energetically towards him, shouting "Happy birthday daddyyyyyyy!" You can't help but smile. He wakes up surprised, he doesn't understand the situation for a few moments. Then, hug your babies "thank you little children", as he smiles and a few tears slip out of his eyes. He looks at you and you say "Happy birthday my love" with a big smile.

After a warm family time, he says "well, I have to get up". Your babies get a little sad out of bed.

It was time to make preparations. Many of your husband's friends will come to celebrate his birthday, so you ask the three of them for help to speed up the work.

After two hours leaving everything in order, they were ready to receive the guests. Catering came on time, you didn't want your husband to cooking on his birthday. There were options for all tastes, including vegetarian snacks for that friend of your husband's with whom he always discuss.

The music began to play from that very loud moment.  Both your husband and your kids started to dance with Super Freak.

The guests start to came. Your house its full of joy, music and the smell of food.

Rodrigo and his little friends were playing hide-and-seek. He can't think of a better place to hide in your study, where your analysis results were over the desk. See that strange paper for him and he runs towards you.  He forgets the game. This was more important.

"Mommy! Mommy!  Mommy! What does it say on this paper? Come on, tell me!

After five minutes of insisting, you take him aside with your husband and say "you're going to have a little brother or sister soon." You didn't finish telling him, that Rodrigo begins to shout very loudly "my mommy is going to have a baby!"

Silence. Your guests saying "is it true?"

"Mommy, Daddy. Tell them," insists the boy.

You didn't want to tell them before because you've already lost a pregnancy, before Rodrigo. And that made you very bad. They preferred to wait until the fourth month was up.

But apparently things happened in a way that had to cut the tradition.

Your husbands look at you with an immense smile, hug you with one arm and with the other he goes to your belly. With that hand he touches the belly and says to everyone "Rodri is right. We didn't want to tell you yet... but good. This is the best birthday present I can have." Look at the guests. "As much the presence of all of you as that of my children, my wife and this little one who comes to change our routine," he says, looking towards your belly and caressing it gently.

After the hubbub and everyone's congratulations, the birthday then passes with great normality, with lots of loud music, screams of children playing and adults smiling. Obviously, it was not perfect... James, Rodrigo's little friend, threw soda on the floor. And Felix stained the carpet with cake. Things happen.

It gets dark and the guests start to leave.

After making your children bathe and sleep with your husband, you take showers. The shower has relaxed you a lot. Honestly you just want to sleep.

But when you get to the room, there is the light on the bedside table. He was sitting with a soft pillow on his back, against which he was leaning. He was reading a book. When he hears the door, he looks up and puts a bookmark in the book.

"Oh I was waiting for you... my beautiful girl", as I closed the book and left it on the bedside table. All without stopping looking at you.

"Yes, of course, you say that because I don't have a belly yet," you say smiling.

"You're always going to be for me," he says, with a warm smile.

You lie down. He then turns off the light and accommodates your side. "Come" he says to you softly. You lie your head on his chest, while he hugs you. He looks up at the ceiling and says "the best birthday I've ever had, thank you for taking care of everything... although Rodrigo ruined our surprise about the pregnancy," he smiles. "You close your eyes and say "maybe that's how my love had to pass. And of nothing, you know that I do it for you", you say hugging him strongly. He kisses you on the head and caresses your hair. You fall asleep. And he, too, after a few minutes.That night would be one of the last to sleep well in a long time. And internally both knew it. But, it doesn't matter... Christine is worth it.

Tags: @warriorteam1924 (bc you asked for this) @theworksgaga (bc you read the prequel recently and u loved it) @sweetgcreature (with this one I'm being risky lol)

PLEASE reblog if you like it!